#also i saw a REAL barn owl the other night fly in front of my car (it was fine it flew away) but i was like (points) JARETH

[ragingbullmode]

image of me, ass planted firmly on the couch, mountain dew code red in hand, dog sleeping & snoring next to me, watching labyrinth

[iellarenuodolorian]

Mandoctober Day 11

Sorgan

Words: 1.5k

Pairing: DinDjarinxFemaleMandalorianReader

Summary: Reader catches up with Din and learns about some new changes in his life.

Warnings: mentions of jealousy and fighting, there isn’t really a whole lot in this chapter its fairly tame *shrugs*

Sorry this is a day late, I’ve been feeling a little burnt out with working every day this last week, and the stress of flying for my sisters wedding this weekend isn’t helping my mentality either.

~9ABY

Another clan successfully resupplied and a crisis averted. You were exhausted, it was more work than you thought it would be to keep Mandalorians from breaking out into civil war in these new blended clans. Why couldn’t they put aside their personal differences and come together as Mandalorians so that the Tribe could rebuild and take back their rightful place in the Galaxy.

With the Darksaber having been lost years ago, and no plan to get it back any time soon, all of the clans were struggling to not start petty fights with each other. Making your job harder.

Bo-Katan had asked her Nite Owls to do their best in keeping the clans supplied, and to trust her. She said she was putting together a team and a plan but she couldn’t share the details. She needed everyone to trust her and that she would bring the Darksaber home, even if it was the death of her.

As you sat in your cockpit, ready to put in coordinates for home to resupply your own ship, your comm pinged with an incoming voice transmission.

“Cyar’ika, it’s me. If you get this, I’m sending you coordinates to a planet I’m currently holed up on. I have some… developments, I need to tell you about. We’ll be waiting.”

A coded text message followed at the end for you to decrypt. It took less than a minute to decrypt and send to the navicomputer, and when the computer told you the name of the planet, your mind blanked. You had never heard of it before. Which was no small feat, considering Mandalorians had established secret bases on an astounding number of planets in different systems.

Pulling up the file from the Holonet, you discovered Sorgan was on the list of “uncharted planets” in the Galaxy. There was nothing on this planet. There was no significant import or export trade, there was no certified port, there weren’t even any heavily populated cities. How did this planet slip through the cracks? It would be perfect for a clan in hiding.

Your mind flashed back to the last words Din had spoken, “We’ll be waiting.” WE?! Who is this “we” he is speaking of? Other than you, Din had never really been overly friendly or one to take on traveling companions just for fun. Just what you wanted to think about on the hyperspace journey to Sorgan…

Once you arrived in system, you pulled up the frequency to track the Crest, hoping he still hadn’t discovered the tracker. But you couldn’t get a return ping. That was odd. Just one more mystery to solve, because you loved mysteries.

You decided to start in the most heavily populated area you could find, which wasn’t saying much. All the buildings were primitive, made from mud and smaller tree limbs and the people inside the huts were just as primitively dressed. You felt sorry for planets like this that lived without even the most basic of technological advances to make life a little easier.

You had opted for a less conspicuous disguise, leaving your beskar’gam on your ship, wearing simple trousers with a standard issue blaster strapped to your thigh, standard boots with your vibroknife tucked into the side, an ordinary shirt and vest with pockets for all your hidden detonators and spare power packs, and a scarf to hide your face. You had also painted your face with strategic tattoos to help hide your real identity since you had taken your helmet off.

When you walked into the cantina, everyone stopped to stare at the new stranger for a while. Apparently they didn’t get many outsiders. Good thing I didn’t walk in here in full beskar’gam everyone would definitely remember that. And then I’d be in even more trouble. Picking a table in the corner where you could see the entrance, you sat down and prepared to wait and see if you could overhear any useful information. You ordered food and drink from a chatty waitress, and settled in to wait.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long. No sooner had you finished eating when this shiny silver, walking weapon walked through the door. He seemed familiar to you, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. He walked closer, and you saw that it was the same blaster Din preferred to carry, his weapons belt was set and stocked the way Din liked, even his bandolier was the same, complete with the small pouch for written sentimental messages above his left collarbone.

“Nice disguise.” Said a voice that sounded exactly like Din’s. He sat down in front of you, making himself comfy and acting like he owned the place.

Leaning forward to stare into the familiar helmet visor, you barely whispered, “Djarin?” The slight tilt of his helmet to the left told you that you had guessed right.

“Come on,” he stood up and offered you his hand. “I have some surprises for you.”

Once you walked out the door, you saw a repulsorsled waiting. It was loaded up with supplies, and this curious looking silver pod. Making yourself comfortable on a few crates next to Din, you settled in for the ride.

“So where did this shiney new set come from?” You asked Din.

“It’s a good thing we have a while before we get to the village…”

Din told you about how he had risen to be the top bounty hunter in his Guild. How he had been given a job directly from a Client, with a reward of beskar. After teaming up with a droid, “No way, you HATE droids!”, to take out the guards around the asset, Din discovered that the asset was in fact a child. He had to rebuild the Crest because Jawas had managed to break in and steal most of his parts, and when he turned the asset in to the Client, he had a change of heart. Children are to be protected at all cost in Mandalorian culture. Children are the future and without passing on traditions and armor the Mandalorians would cease to exist. He knew he wouldn’t be able to live with his decision of just turning over an innocent child for Maker knows what, so he went back and rescued the child from an Imperial safe house and was now on the run. He knew it would only be a matter of time before another hunter showed up to try and steal the Child from him.

Din entered a command on his vambrace, and the silver orb that had been floating next to you opened. And this small green thing stared into your soul with its dark brown eyes. “What is it?” You asked Din as you continued to stare at it.

“I don’t know. All I knew was that I couldn’t leave it to be a science experiment for the Empire.”

When you arrived at the village, you were surprised to see all the children come running out to greet you. It seemed like Din was a hero to the village, everyone just seemed to adore him and the green child.

After helping unload the supplies, Din showed you to where he and the child had been sleeping. “A week ago we helped run off a local band of raiders. Wasn’t anything too difficult, but you know how plans go. Sometimes they don’t always go exactly like you think.”

After dinner, you sat outside the hut with Din and watched all the children in the village playing together. Listening to their delighted laughs and cries of surprise and watching them chase each other around made you envious of their innocent little lives. And now you understood why Din had stepped up to help protect the village. Looking at the children, you knew you would have done the same thing.

“Have you thought about leaving the green one here?” You asked Din.

“If I knew he would be safe and well looked after, I could consider it. I know the life of a Mandalorian is one that I wouldn’t force upon anyone.”

A short while later, a beautiful woman with long dark hair and dark, expressive eyes came walking over with the child fast asleep in her arms. She passed him off to Din, who nodded his helmet at her in silent thanks. You could tell that there was some sort of connection between the two of them and you weren’t sure if you were feeling hurt, jealous, or proud. Hurt, because he had found someone else to keep his heart company in your absence, jealous because she was more beautiful than you, or proud because you realized she was a more than capable woman and could probably hold her own against you.

As Din turned to head into the barn, she gave a small smile and said, “Welcome to our village. I hope you enjoy your time here. We will be forever grateful to him for showing us how to defend our home. My name is Omera, by the way. I hope you have a pleasant evening. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. And thank you, Omera.”

You spent the night curled up next to Din, your heart full after so many months apart. You took in all of the textures, smells, sounds, and tastes that were just uniquely Din. You knew you couldn’t stay for more than a couple days, but everyone needed time off with loved ones, and you intended to make the most of a few days with Din.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

As always, thank you for taking the time to read my silly little story 💙💙

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[tenaciouscupcaketaco]

1989-2020 Poetic Work Of Mario William Vitale

1989-2020 Poetic Work Of Mario William Vitale (Manuscript of Poet Mario William Vitale) From 1993-1997 - Attended State University in Connecticut,Attempted plays : Tartuffe, Miracle Of St. Anthony and Balm in Gieade,( His poetic aspirations had in 1989 from submitting his first poem entitled, "Remembrance Of A Loved One"- (Sparrowgrass Poetry Forum)Next from 1989-1997 ( Wrote primarily for Poetry.com and The International Library Of Poetry),* Received editors choice award in 1997 for poem, " A Beacon Of Light ",(1998) Sent poetic manuscript to N.Y. Time Magazine and Chief Editor " John Hyland".Back with rave reviews !* ( From 1999-2008:Had adapted a real keen sense of style for writing poetry: ( 1999- Sent Editorial to:New Man Magazine for the Passion of Christ Movie;Sent followup letter to company with poetry platform information attached,* 2000-2007 : Magazine : ( Catholic) Maries Rose Ferron Magazine submitted poem" Beacon Of Light", which had excellent editorial reviews as the outset !2008- Wrote poem entitled: ( The Heavy Cross) to Poetry.com* Achieved Poetry status of work of Excellence in writing from the Academy Of American Poetry in which still having received rank and status as a member of Academy;* ( The Connecticut Poetry Society)* Short story submitted entitled, "China Dog Ray" submitted to Virginia WritersQuarterly, West Virginia, Also having member status on their board of Poetry.* ( Attribute Poetry to an ever increasing love of God and his unconditional love that he has for us in return,Thankfulness toward family and friends.( To our past ancestors who fought to uphold freedom that far too many of us take for granted ?One needs a pure heart that's fixed on truth,This is in order to withstand the true great test of time !Life is way too short,Press toward the goal or mark of our high calling that is in Christ Jesus The Lord !~My contempoarry artists include that of ellan Bryant Voight, Kay Ryan and carl Phillips.Which all three are Participants in the Academy Of American Poetry.* Having been a member since 2006,My work reflects the likes of past poets such as C.S.Lewis, Hawthorne and edgar Allen Poe.Most of my work reflects with the values of religious beliefs intact,( In my personal view it is essential in demonstrating a real heart of creativepassion !The reader I believe will benefit by my artistic style of development in a verypositive light.)To further the need for poetry to become more main stream, Mario Vitale was born in Bristol , Ct Has developed a skill for writing poetry in the free verse form. has been featured on Hubpages.com, Starlitecafe.com & Poetry soup. Vitale lives with his elderly mother Ann Soulier in Wolcott, Ct. Currently has written well over 1,000 poems & 2 short story's toward credit platform. Vitale has taken the poetic world by storm being featured on Google, Yahoo & MSN. Looks up to contemporaries in the poetry industry such as John Ashbery & Major Jackson. Has been a favorite featured poet reader at Barnes & Noble in Waterbury, Ct. Also featured on such sites as Poetry soup, Writer's café & Neo Poet. Mario William Vitale 1 Winfield Drive Wolcott, ct 06716 A Beacon Of Light Written by: Mario Vitale A beacon of light to a much hurting world in need ! Can't help but to claim.., Some sense of identity, Stregnth and encouragement only come from above ! Amidst in the distance, the trapped seagull.., Lieth frightened but still yet adrift ! In a most vengeful fashion striking the passing fish, A true source of hope, Yet a most triumphal beam ! This beacon of light shineth forth, Passerby's can err' escape the helping hand.., To the most sparkling of radiance ! (2)Thanksgiving Dinner by Mario Vitale Home for the holiday from New Orleans, with Mother and Father at the tiny drop leaf, brown rosewood, mahogany table with the gold, grinning claw feet; Father, choler- red-in the-face, short- sleeved white shirt and cane, says the blessing as Mother brings in the turkey and cranberry. Then Mother asks, “Won’t you have more?” and father : “Do you think Moll Flanders was a *****?” (I have suffered and bleached my hair blond.) I am silent before their replies. Mother sighs. “I can scarce speak to her.” And Father, too, quotes Shakespeare. (I am thin as paper and the rose- colored bowl of blown glass sitting on the silver stand, half- filled with water.) “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless daughter” (3) Song of Spring Today I heard a robin sing heralding the coming spring A song of exultation to the sky an ode to earth's awakening I saw a willow on the hill It's branches greening in the sun and all the earth seemed hushed & still sleeping streams began to run I heard a softly rising breeze whispering through the grass singing through the still bare trees waiting winter's chill to pass I saw the sun, so bright and warm warming the earth after the rain the buds and leaves, no frost to harm at least, at last, it's spring again. (4) The Ancients It's my last day with the old giants In mourning I hike the lost trails, sniffing the aroma of the bark, that cinnamon of the forest Under tepees of wood in a membrane of shadows, I stalk the earth, its mammal traces, its elusive tracks, to sit on a fallen log where spiders macramé, moss sloping to my knees unaware of invisibles within, grubbing in their tunnels A lizard taps my foot, responding, I muse to its touch, my thoughts like Indian visions, And when daylight mushrooms into night, and an owl hoots from cedar, I still sit with a lizard on my shoe Huddled with the ancients of the woods (5) Epiphany Written by: Mario Vitale It clings to the cliffed shore, to the wintered face of the thistle path, to the fingers of the old man's glove as he waves his memory homeward In that breath between come and go she moves up from the bay; gold turns her stride, the line of her dress, the soft sea pulling at her feet When he reaches out and the frail birds fly and the sun and the sky have married deep into the sea, it clings Even as his shadow threads retreat, it clings, even now as it dissolves to mist (6) A Return Home, Only Time Will Tell Written by: Mario Vitale Oh blessed hope ! Both hardly a believable dream, Sweltering heat with bloodshed in the street... Send the troops home ! There is no clear reason for them to roam.., These are desolate times ! For we have chosen ill faded rhymes.., The casualties are enormous ? For a stated cause that clearly atrocious.., A mother's cry as the door chime rings, A vanishing salute to freedom as the church choir sings ! Let us look above to all the heavenly love.., Merciful one, take this chip off my shoulder.., Stop the senseless fighting before our dear nation grows a bit colder, Suddenly, seeds were dropped out of a farmers bag, In time roots spring up fresh out of the fertile soil... As the sun heats up, Time will tell when this harvest will soon boil... In the vast game of life, One's time is so very brief ! The soul yearns for its' heavenly relief.., Share with others who may want to turn over a brand new leaf.., Time will tell of the true importance of helping one another, To never give into the finish line.., Nor harsh criticism that our society puts out ! Like a famous fighter in his final bout ! Time will tell of the return home, To the open arms of a loved one ! (7) A Valiant Knight Written by: Mario Vitale A Valiant Knight Death springs a new day basking in the breeze In solemn moments lets pause to think of a place A far off castle in the mountains away from it all A valiant knight lived in the structure of it's dwelling Those days of old where mere men had a noble demise A beautiful maiden was in waiting for her knight He would often fight for the cause of stregnth and dignity The draw bridge where the castle stood had a very unique aura A mystery of sort sought up in the vast array of crowned nobility For the king on his thrown was humble yet greedy Always would take care of himself caring nothing for the needy A valiant knight was concerned about the kings trust Often they would disagree on who it was to serve A joker came in front of the king one day with a magic wand Waving the wand in the air then there floated ivy everywhere For the court jester was a fool in the making of his legacy The maiden would often come forth and see For she treasured a red rose that was plucked sometime before Cherished the calling of her stature to the glory of the throne A valiant knight would often sing sweet songs in the night Had a following of village people that would sit before his feet Having a way of words that he would often share The castle was filled with dragons and warlocks searching for love A cause to be brave amidst uncertainty of the kingdom The legacy of golden capulets filled ardent vestibules Let us toast to the valiant knight who keeps a watch on all that is good (8) Hampton Beach The smell of fresh fry doe Time had elapsed playing at the casino Fresh lobster with a side order of fries Those spacious wonderful sky's Down at the shell the continental were playing A walk by the lady of a statue in waiting Flip flops and the sound of laughter A playground for kids in the middle The boardwalk with seagulls flocking over head Fire works in the midnight air with a cheer (9) God's World It is raining again. Summer will be over before it ever gets here Thunder rolls far away, drops hit the windshield, the sky turns gray The Sunflower, the blue Delpinium, the white Stinkwood drink the moisture greedily. The green and silver leaves of the Aspens sparkle as the rain hits them, and the wind turns them round and round The creek flows on, oblivious to the change in the weather. A break in the clouds allows a bit of sun to hit the side of a towering mountain Three cows slowly wend their way homeward. It is dusk. The gray clouds lift and the sun bursts through, before sliding behind the hills for the night It is God's World. He gives it to us to enjoy and to share with each other (10) Jake's House There was a man whose name was Jake Who had a house upon the lake Every morning he would wake And for breakfast have a piece of cake He had a private fishing hole; He always used a long cane pole He fried his fish on red hot coal And served it in a great big bowl For a pet, he had a cat (11) In The Zone Written by: Mario Vitale In The Zone whispers... through the dark deranged portals you evoke fear filled with angelic fervor on it's textual base yet we dig much deep then ever before cries in the dark will light the spark of what we need to know still we stand idle as the average novice introduces its spell along again then the sadness evokes a newer feeling dwindling through the vain extraction of the never world we visually see a flash then a new day approaches on the lawn two lovers having passionate *** the screams of vile extreme explodes throughout perhaps this is the place where Nero tread yet again I sit alone in my house now huddled in the corner the twilight sun has tainted my inner vision the howls of Satanic laughter gives a piercing shriek through a candle was lit by the edge of my bed One can remain lax in the quietness of the moment yet again the setting of the sun a new day has begun as we embark on the moment Does death hurt you the most or is it fear You can equate logic through a firm grasp of the hand whispers again... then a faint cry, we construct living pyramids to honor the dead A stroke of luck an the impulse ensues onto so much more but for what are we grasping for straws what are we searching for ? quietness again this time I'm in the zone as if zombie creatures with viscous long fangs that bite dripping blood off side we run away to hide no one questions anymore no one has a voice alone one last time yet feelings of grandeur awake to the message of hope that spills from the sky a challenge to be free is a question of time eyes with spots digging holes in a pool of blood Satan laughing again spreads his wings Suddenly I awake but to what ? (12) An End Of The Age Of Innocence Part III Written by: Mario Vitale In our fast paced twentieth century world.., We oft' have neglected to stop to smell the roses, Oft' we used to bow our heads silently to pray, As we reflect back to the sixties is had launched a pad to rebellion ! With a vast amount of liberal bias and thinking, No wonder why our nation is sinking.., Sinking amidst a cuss pool of mere morality.., For now it is a quite different time, A very unique but different type of day.., An end of the age of innocence, One hath been enlightened.., From seeking truth, Some fresh out of a garbage can.., Yet for Gods' sake, He hath such an amazing plan ! Hence, to shun the broad road, Yet to seek to venture in the narrow.., Such as a distant bird in flight ! You might see this creature venture out at night ? Of the Eagle nor the Sparrow.., It used to mean something to have a sense of common courteous.., To hold open the door for your neighbor ? Yet for the time being we relent and waiver.., Would you prefer another taste of a certain ice cream flavor ? To ponder we must be content with who we are in the inside.., Nor, a mere fancy suit or blazing sport's car, Life is a roller coaster.., In what you do while busy making other plans.., Finding solace among the height of nature., Such to think at what is quite simple, As a young child reflects on his or her poster board, Playing with their magic crayons.., For in eternity it is such a very long time ! Take heed in what you do, Now is the expectant hour ! What will one choose to do ? There can be no place nor need for any compromise, Within it's vast perpetual spectrum ! One just can't put a price tag on a genuine but unique heart ! Hence, with honest integrity.., The time for change is today ! (13) He Was There by Mario William Vitale From the inner silence of the lamb he was there In welcoming to the world to share Within the multiple of words the mouth speaks As a heart beats through the passage of time To every poem that was ever written To every burden ever lifted To rivers crossing where people living Sometimes loving other moments giving In storms that were outside brewing What is the significance of this love In painted pictures from above To every soldier in a battle To every cow amidst the cattle Not a second glance at any real romance A field of dreams throughout our head From both fire and ice will make you think twice Perhaps another chance at a roll of the dice When every kingdom comes thy will be done Shadows in the shining morn if there's a rose it bears a thorn, He was there in every circumstance When they tried to throw stones at her He was there drawing a line with his finger in the sand It is my hope that some day all will understand A glance at the past will tell us of our future Amidst the inner pain & uncertainty Through shadows in a field of dreams In moments of solace amidst the pain A light moved out upon the street outside A day that wasn't meant to be Thorn crown was pulled upon his head Those shouts of intense anger from the mob There was only one who would help him back on his feet, A light that brought only a few to greet Let us not run away & hide Each one of our sins was placed on that cross To lose the battle now would end in tragic loss Father please forgive them for they know not what they do He said the prayer now the rest is up to you That cross that broke a sinful world apart With his blood-soaked crown with spear in side To show the whole world he had nothing to hide The summoned cry brought about healing in the sky Watch the free angelic dove fly! (14) Momma Of Pearls by Mario William Vitale Since there's nothing I could find That was worth giving you, I sat down to think a while And write a line or two If I had a magic wand I'd wave it just for you, And give you anything you'd like No matter how many or few If I could give you back the years You so willingly gave to me I'm sure that you spend them over again The same as they used to be Remember when those days and nights Instead of going to the fair I'd always say tell me again The story of the three little bears I tried to get a strawberry pie But they were out of season Then I thought of gold Mario William Vitale Written by Mario William Vitale 48/M/Wolcott, Ct 310 Please log in to view and add comments on poems

[dansnaturepictures]

My 10 Wildlife/Photography 2019 highlight blogs: Opening blog about another brilliant year of birds for me

People who have known me for a while may recall that in 2016, 2017 and 2018 I had sensational birding years by my standards and with what I achieved with the bank of species seen, fast starts to year lists and year list totals with each of these years overtaking everything else and being my highest ever year list they got better and better and 2018 seemed an impossible act to follow. Here I examine how well I did follow it, and tomorrow the post at around the same time is solely about experiences with some of my 28 favourite birds that I saw this year.

My 2019 followed 2018 perfectly, I have seen 195 species currently making it my second highest year list ever. Many of the species I have seen have been phenomenal again. The start definitely was what I will call fast again in that I saw a lot of birds in January, it was my second highest amount seen on New Year’s Day after 2016 where two woodpeckers Great Spotted and Green, two thrushes Redwing and Fieldfare and Siskin starred across a few locations. In the early days it was behind where 2017 and 2016 had been on those dates with how many birds I had seen, then all of a sudden when I had a week off it was the highest a year list of mine had ever been on on given dates. In mid-January when a year before my Scotland trip had happened in 2018 and all those year ticks 2018 was the highest on the given dates, but 2019 stayed closely behind it as the second highest my year list had been on on these dates which I was thrilled with. This continued in February and in March it even overtook where 2018 had been on certain dates. The same happened in April as I reached the milestone 150 birds a day earlier than I had in 2018, and it was neck in neck between the two going into May. In June and into July it even overtook what I had seen on 2018 on the dates, it fell behind again over the summer but pulled back level and began to overtake what my 2018 had been on on certain dates again in September and these two year lists were way ahead of every other year for me on those dates going into October too. Of course last year in this post I remarked how I was on amounts of birds seen in 2018 that I only reached two months later in 2017 and other years. So I just thought it was going to be more normal this year and I would notice how far 2018 was ahead. I have appreciated my high numbers of birds seen last year but also been right there with it on the dates this year which I am thrilled with. In November and into December now it has stayed neck in neck again but actually for a good while now I have been in a position where I have seen seen more birds on these days than I had a year ago. No matter what, to even stay as close to the exceptional year that was 2018 for me as it did with more modest places visited really and species ranges available was something I was so proud of.

The week off in January I had from work spent birdwatching was crucial to my start and whole year. It took me on my first of four trips away of the year so I was lucky with that, two nights in Gloucestershire so I could visit WWT Slimbridge on my birthday. On that magical day reserve specialities Bewick’s Swan (shown there in the 1st picture in this photoset), Common Crane, White-fronted and Barnacle Geese were star birds seen, alongside Peregrine Falcon, Water Rail (shown in the 2nd picture in this photoset that I took that day), Golden Plover and Ruff. When back from that week off I remember saying one morning at work I could tell you the highlight birds from that week but I would be here until lunch time. But so many amazing birds seen in home areas and on the way to our trip away that week included; Waxwing (as shown that day in the 3rd picture in this photoset at Totton the first major quality bird I saw this year and one of the biggest highlights in 2019), Jack Snipe, Red Kite, Bearded Tit, Marsh Harrier, Ring-necked Duck, Cattle Egret, Purple Sandpiper, Greenshank, Common Gull, Shag, Black-necked Grebe, Gannet, Guillemot, Fulmar, Great White Egret, Yellow-browed Warbler, Yellow-legged Gull and Goldeneye.

The theme of seeing top birds continued throughout the year, some of my other greatest birds I saw in 2019 included; Spotted Redshank, Eider Duck, Goosander, Barn Owl, Sanderling, Crossbill, Hawfinch, Bar-tailed Godwit, Scaup, Mediterranean Gull, Corn Bunting (shown in the 4th picture in this photoset at Martin Down in May), Red-legged Partridge, Lesser Yellowlegs, Bittern (shown at Blashford Lakes in the 5th picture I took in this photoset), Lesser Redpoll, Brambling, Hooded Crow, Little Owl, Spoonbill, Little Ringed Plover, Redstart, Glossy Ibis, Razorbill, Yellowhammer, Little Tern (shown at Lymington in the 6th  picture I took in this photoset), Common Sandpiper, Sand Martin, Dartford Warbler, Cuckoo, Sandwich Tern, Hobby, Sedge Warbler, Red-necked Phalarope, Lesser Whitethroat, Woodlark, Kittiwake, Puffin, Roseate Tern, Dipper, Spotted Flycatcher, Wood Sandpiper, Osprey, Black Tern, Whimbrel, Whinchat, Chough, Manx Shearwater, Common Scoter, Yellow Wagtail, Long-billed Dowitcher, Ring-necked Parakeet , Ring Ouzel, Garganey, Black Redstart, Long-tailed Duck, Semipalmated Sandpiper, Snow Bunting and three Short-eared Owls flying gloriously around us one of my standout moments this year on one of my standout birding days of 2019 with so much else seen at Portland Bill and isle that day. Twelve of the birds I saw this year I saw for only the second time in my life or it was only the second individual I’d seen of the species which really stood out as a unique point in my birding this year.

A big bird at Blashford Lakes in late April was the Bonaparte’s Gull and I was lucky enough to get a very distant view of it but watch it for quite a while. This was a fantastic species to see and made me so happy. It ended a longer wait compared to recent years as it was my first new bird of 2019. This took my life list to a bit of a milestone as it was bird 260 in my life.

My next life tick came in Northumberland in June with the Arctic Terns I saw on Coquet and Farne Islands, which l talk about more in my sixth of these posts about that holiday. During this week away we also dropped in on Druridge Pools and saw the very rare duck the Baikal Teal that was there my first ever, another beauty.

In July I saw a bird I hadn’t seen flying about in the wild before when I saw one of the White Storks on a day at Knepp. I got a beautiful view of this species and saw where they had attempted to nest so it felt very rewarding to see at this rewilding project at exciting times for these birds going forward now. Our timing was perfect in September when we had our holiday to Cornwall the first week and two of the first few Brown Boobies in the UK ever seen had turned up! On the second day of the holiday we went to Kynance Cove where one had been reported and saw it sitting on a rock. An honour to see this it was a mega and a Champions League standard bird for sure I was over the moon to see it. I talk about this more in my penultimate post of this thread on Christmas Eve about the Cornwall holiday.

The only way to follow the Brown Booby would be with another mega and that we did later in the month by seeing the Eastern Olivaceous Warbler that dropped into Farlington Marshes. It was a really beautiful bird to see and one that was so distinctive. I was lucky to get some really good views of it that day as it flew in and out of thick vegetation. This top bird sighting came at such a good point in my year that weekend too with so much else happening to make it one of my most memorable two days.

My next new bird came on 21st October as we finally managed to catch up with a Wryneck after so many times trying to see one. This was at Hill Head where we had a really good search for apparently two that had showed up. We and some other birdwatchers got some joy when we looked around the chalet area and were thrilled to spot one in someone’s garden. We enjoyed a glorious good few minutes with this beautiful and sensational species watching it fly west, giving some fantastic views in trees and on the ground. I took the 7th picture in this photoset of it. It was such a feel good twitch and really one of my main standout moments in my 2019 birdwatching a year that has been amazing for me. This was the fourth woodpecker species I’ve ever seen, my 266th bird in my life and a very important milestone 190th bird of 2019 for me which took it level with my 2017 as my joint second highest ever year list that day. I did go onto see more than 190 bird species this year of course.

Other bird pictures I took in 2019 I have included in this photoset are; Moorhen and chick along the river Itchen in June one of my favourite spring pictures this year, Pied Wagtail during winter’s Big Garden Birdwatch for the RSPB a standout moment I had a really good year for seeing a variety of garden birds generally and other wildlife around the garden and house like a Hedgehog, butterflies and moths and Avocet at Brownsea Island, Dorset in October. Going back to the garden birdwatch and I very much enjoyed doing a similar event yesterday Birdaware Solent’s Great Solent Birdwatch doing it at Weston Shore as I said in my post last night. These were just two of a whole host of citizen science surveys for various organisations I was proud to take part in this year for all wildlife. On another avian photography note in November I found out some of my bird photos from this year (Lesser Redpoll at Blashford Lakes, another Waxwing, Totton one and Blackbird out the back) I’d entered into the Blissful Birder calendar competition earlier in the year had made their ‘Birds of England’ calendar 2020. I was very proud of this. It was a real honour to see some of my pictures alongside some superb work which displays how proud we should be of English birds. It was fitting this happening as one of my earliest birdwatching memories was buying an RSPB calendar which led me to join their Wildlife Explorers with a link to it on the back a big early staging post in my interest after I had got the famous (for me) sticker book of birds which started my interest. So 10 years into me being into photography started by birds to get my own pictures on a commercial calendar felt amazing.

[sleepykitykat]

Starting to share this story of our Exalted RPG Campaign

My name is Helena Pierce and all I ever wanted was to be free.  I never asked for responsibility. I never wanted any of this but I guess there isn’t anything I can do about it now…

    I was born to a wealthy family on the Upper East Side.   All of my life I knew privilege and luxury. As I grew my life became nothing but a reflection of my mother’s wishes, prestigious schools and debutante balls in conservative WASP society.  Ironically enough The Brearley School was everything a young closeted lesbian could hope for complete with the school girl uniforms. Unfortunately for me, none of the girls I dated there were interested in keeping up with it after the thrill of pissing off their rich daddies went away.  Despite those very many distractions I managed to graduate high in my class and convince my father that because of the many rumors of my sexuality that permeated our insular upper crust world that I should be allowed to go to a non-ivy league school and stay in a normal dorm, heaven forbid.  The day my acceptance letter to NYU arrived was the day I saw hope. For years I’d felt alone and lost but at least relatively out from my parent’s watchful eyes I might find some freedom, some release of myself. I write this now to indicate that that day was different from every other small ray of sunshine because it was at NYU that I found my first real friend.  You hear a lot about high society in movies or on TV being fickle and filled with false friendships but I lived that for years. One day you would have steadfast friends and the next they would be gone, booted by the very people who once loved them. I know this because I principally did the booting. I think it was my mechanism for defense, creating pariahs of others.  If people are talking about another scandal they cannot be bothered by something I did at a party or who I was seen with after cotillion. I digress, that letter from NYU was a gateway to my very first real friend.

    Cheryl Rose-Cross, born first daughter in a family of five was the first of her family to go to college.  Her father, Miguel Rose, was once part of a successful modern dance company that fell on hard times after a car wreck gutted the team.  Miguel, like the mythic phoenix sprang from the ashes and now runs a successful dance studio in Brooklyn. His wife, the incomparable Sylvia Cross, is a feisty woman who works all day and night sweating her ass off in a little corner bodega café which outputs a staggering amount of delicious tamales.  Working to afford an apartment in New York took all it could from their family time and as a result Cheryl raised her other sisters and little brother and held down a part time job all the way through high school to afford her art obsession. She is a saint. After graduating high school she applied to NYU partly to prove she could do it to doubters and partly in the hopes that she too could escape her role as den mother of her four younger siblings.  Her dreams were crushed, however, the moment she met me. In that moment, she tells me to this day, she knew I would need her mother hen treatment far more than any of her siblings.

    Truthfully it would have been better for Cheryl to never have met me but then I would have never been me and never been a danger to her so we shan’t know.  You read in places where people say that things and people changed them and up to that moment I never believed them but Cheryl changed me. For years I had fought my baser nature, fought my feelings for other women, and used my own doubts to crush my dreams but with Cher by my side I felt I could conquer the world, money or not and with her urging I came out to my parents.  It was a swift blow struck at them in anger across the Easter dinner table sophomore year in college. This is not to say that there hadn’t been rumors before hushed away for me or little glances and careful controlling of my associations up till then so they definitely should have known. This coming out was the ugly glaring truth staring them in the face across the table surrounded by aunts and uncles just as excited to see the ensuing drama as if it were the main event in a boxing arena.  Amid the fighting and witty banter my Grandmother, the family patron, stood up for me. It was one of those moments that you swear never happen except in the movies where someone says the exact right thing at the exact right time and it shuts down all other conversation in the room. Even now, some three years after my grandmother’s death, some of my aunts giggle at my mother behind their concerned expressions as they talk about me, or so I hear. As a result of the, now too obvious and public to hide, scandal my parents were booted by their wealthy friends like so many before them and moved to upstate New York to live among the normal classes.  I sometimes think of the life I could have had as an unhappily married WASP woman and laugh. There would be no room for rainbow hair and my retro punk studded leather slouch boots in that life and I would be miserable. Because of my Grandmother’s generosity I was able to stay on at NYU and pursue my dreams to become a researcher in medieval literature landing a job at the prestigious Cloisters and that’s where all the trouble begins.

    It was a normal shift.  I was piecing something in Latin together that was badly written in an illumination in the margin of some tome gifted to us from a museum in Italy.  It was really a hopeless attempt to find something important because I had been doing drudge work for weeks when all of a sudden I heard a loud clatter in the stacks.  It was never very dark there for security reasons but the shadows were foreboding enough for me to be cautious when I investigated. What I found was a giant beast hovering over the bodies of some security guards.  Don’t ask me to describe it because I couldn’t except it made me run. I ran and ran holding desperately on to the book I had but the beast caught me just as I entered a small reading room. It slung me to and fro finally letting me fly into a wall.  There crumpled on the floor I struggled to get up, dying, but I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live, survival was what I was good at mentally, physicality should not hinder that and that thing wasn't going to stop me from living my life. Then as I staggered to my feet dropping the book onto a table within reach a white light came upon me and something else.  It felt like purpose but suddenly I was knocked out and remember nothing else until the hospital.

    After that night I had changed again.  I was not mortal, that I knew. I had always known that I was a bit cooler than everyone else being damn mysterious and gifted with impeccable taste and style but now I really was singular.  I had been chosen for something amazing or horrible… or perhaps both. My powers were straightforward and almost intoxicating. I could transform into an owl or in turn a hybrid owl woman. The transformation was beautiful that first time though the novelty has somewhat lessened since.  It was all I could do those first few nights to not stay out all night flying across the city but I knew I needed rest. Flying was all I ever wanted it to be. Insulated by the walls of an airplane flying as a human is nothing like the same thing. Also, I was noticing things I never had before.  I felt the need to hunt and claim other forms. Rat was my first additional form and as an owl it was fairly easy to gain. About 4 nights after I first turned I became obsessed with watching this singular rat I saw scampering down an alley in Chinatown. It was as if my owl totem wished me to take another form so I followed it until I was able to swoop upon it and rip it apart.  Eating it was more than pleasure. It was like a prayer for the uninitiated and in that prayer I became the rat. In human form I also noticed that my eyes had mutated. They were no longer the brilliant blue of the standard WASP but instead were golden and giant as a Barn Owl. Though no one seemed to notice, during the day I began to wear round sunglasses just in case someone should freak out.  After the attack at the museum I had a hard time returning to my work. The authorities chalked it up to an escaped tiger or some shit thanks to my new friends. Oh, I didn’t mention those friends? Well that’s when things become a bit complicated. You see, I’m not the only one with powers…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Helena's eyes adjusted to the muted lighting in the large briefing room.  It had been a few months since her 'exaltation' had changed her life and she was still getting used to the idea that she was some sort of chosen of the gods but that's what this council organization was telling her.  She adjusted her shades up her nose and surveyed the group around her. There were a few scientists, several soldiers dressed in fatigues bearing markedly not US patches on their uniforms, a singular young asian man who seemed to have stepped right out from an old kung-fu movie full white robe and everything, and sitting up in the front row was a man that looked remarkably like the movie star Donovan Hawke.  Shaking her head at the idea that Donovan Hawk, star of films such as Knife Gentleman and other action films, might be here she checked her phone. Sighing in frustration there was no signal in the ominously secret underground base but the phone did seem to indicate that whoever had called this meeting was already seven minutes late and that would just not do. Clearing her throat she looked to the woman on her left who appeared to be a relatively attractive scientist pouring over her notes.

    "Hello, I’m Helena Pierce, you wouldn't happen to know when the briefing should start do you?”

    Looking up from her notes the woman seemed to jump a bit then, “Oh, um… It can’t be long now.”

    And right on cue a large muscular man in fatigues entered followed by another female scientist and several other soldiers filled in the room.  The briefing was just that, brief. It was simple, the team was to be deployed to a point several hundred miles south of Denver where a portion of the city had been displaced in order  to minimize civilian casualties from an apparent outbreak of ‘aberrations’. No, hold on. They moved the rest of the city. Apparently that was easier? There was a tower with some sort of device used to disrupt this sort of activity but it had been attacked.  Their mission was to capture the tower and put down any aberrations that appeared until the disrupter could be put back in place.  Just as the meeting wrapped everyone began going out the door to the right so Helena stood up to follow.

    “Hey, where are you going?” the woman at her elbow asked.

    “I was just going to follow.  I mean we’re supposed to right?”

    She laughed behind her hand, “I mean you could if you don’t want any armor or weapons.  Come on”. Gathering up her clipboard and several files she also looked over at the Donovan Hawke impersonator and the kung-fu extra.  “You two too, you’ve got to suit up.”

    True to her word the woman led them in the opposite direction of where the soldiers were going and into a small room filled with yet more scientists all carrying clipboards.  On the tables and racks around the room were various weapons both modern and ancient in design with different properties. Helena found herself drawn to the rack of spears. During her weeks of training before calling her into action she found that the exalted soul she now shared with generations of other chosen of Luna favored polearms, spears and javelins to be exact.  One particular moonsilver spear a head taller than her own six foot two frame caught her eye and she did a few small moves with it to adjust the balance to her liking. The moonsilver in her hands adjusted its heft to her will as she knew it would and she smiled to herself. Across the room she saw the muscular man put on a heavy golden metal breastplate. Looking at his face she was almost sure it must be Donovan Hawk but.. no it couldn’t be.  Her own breastplate was easily strapped onto her petite chest and because of the fluid nature of moonsilver it fit like a glove despite her willowy build. To her pleasure the metal even formed a decorative pattern of wings and filigree. She waved off the matching pauldrons when they were offered to her. She needed to be extremely fluid in her movements and though the moonsilver would give to her will she felt it would be too much. Now ready, she found that the others had started out and down the hall.  Jogging to catch up Helena found that the hallway opened up to a large airplane hanger. Catching up to the group Helena climbed into the vaguely stealth fighter shaped transport sure to duck her head and will her spear to be a little shorter in the small space. She took a seat across from the other two who seemed to be looking for a place to strap in.

    “Well, Hello there, I’m Donovan Hawke,” The larger man said extending his hand across the aircraft.  “You might have heard of me. I’m kind of a celebrity”. On his hands were heavy metal gauntlets that when paired with his freshly pressed khakis, dress shirt, and breast plate seemed a bit heavily armored and out of place.

    She took his hand “Well, that answers most of my questions.  I’m Helena Pierce.”

    “You must be a lunar.  I’ve heard a bit about you guys.”

    “Yeah, well I guess that makes you a solar then.”

    “Yep!” He proclaimed smiling ear to ear.

    Quietly the other man piped up, “I’m Mr. Agi, and I’m a little different from you.  It’s complicated. I’d tell you but you probably won’t remember anyway.”

    Both Helena and Donovan made puzzled looks at this comment but any questions they had were cut off when their pilot walked through them.

    “Hey, we’re getting on the road, people, look alive.  I’m your captain and I’m hoping to get us there in one piece.  Buckle up,” he said tucking a wash of blond hair into his helmet.  With that the back of the plane closed up and the engine roar was audibly in the way of any conversation.

    An hour later and much more bored than she should have been flying Helena got up to look out the window to see a storm front seemingly approaching their trajectory.

    “Uh.. Mr. Captain man, I... do you….?” She shouted above the now almost static engine sounds.

    “I see it.  That’s gotta be part of the aberration.”

    Behind her Donovan asked, “How many of us are there?  Do you know?”

    “Just a few of you glow sticks and some soldiers.  I don’t know much more.”

    “Glow sticks?” Helena asked almost knowing what his answer was.

    “Yeah, you guys.  You glow when you’re fighting.  That’s not for me though I just do the flying, speaking of which we’re getting close.  You might want to get ready. It looks like the action is starting away from the main site.”

    “Ah, well I’ve used one of these before,” Donovan said pulling off one of the parachutes from the wall.

    The back was opening and by now they were in the storm cloud.  It was dark but Helena knew how far up they were. She had plenty of flight clearance.  “Well, I don’t know how to use one of those but I think I’m good.” Her transformation was smooth as she blasted out the doors.  She didn’t wait to hear comments on her warform. She knew what they saw. Her body was covered in light brown feathers and large wings had sprouted from her back.  Her face had flattened somewhat and softer lighter colored feathers framed her gigantic golden eyes, plumage she imagined as her hair had flared out and was helping to insulate her hearing from the high wind at her altitude.  Her hands were somewhat clawed as were her feet and she seemed taller and more robust than before. She was a monster but combined with her armour and spear she was fearsome. Righting herself looking to the west, she caught the wind and made her way in the direction of the city.  Breaking through the clouds, static tickled her feathers and she looked up to see a gigantic dragon sheathed in lighting flanked by what appeared to be mythical thunderbirds.

    “Well, fuck.”

[sunsetcarnation264]

I Want You To Ruin My Life

Since I wrote about my OCs, I figured I’d put this one-shot here for everyone to read if they so wish to do so. The story will also be on my DeviantART if anybody wants to read it there.

Title: I Want You To Ruin My Life Summary: Different times and days of Liselotte Sauber-VanRompa and Maria Villa. (One-shot. Some parts are at different times of their lives. Lyric-fic.) Rating: T Genre: Romance

I miss you pushing me close to the edge, I miss you.

"Yo, Lotte, look at me!" Maria yelled out.

Liselotte looked up, seeing her up on top of some wires. They seemed to be ancient as they weren't used in awhile along with some parts looking like they were rusted. The persian-barn cowl groaned, having her paw up to her forehead.

"Maria, this is just both dangerous and childish."

Maria squatted down. "Come on, have some fun for once! You're way too stiff, especially for being that woman's grandchild! Hell, your sister is perkier and more fluid than you."

"And what are you tryna say about me?" Lotte put her hands on her hips. "I can have some fun, Maria, this just ain't it."

"Well, if you can have some fun, then get your ass up here!"

"No."

"Oh, so then I guess you're just a scaredy cat-owl lady, aren't you?"

Lotte harshly growled under her breath. She levitated up to the wires and walked on top of them with ease. Maria had a sly, mischievous smile on her gray beak. She stood up and started walking on the wires backwards, keeping her eyes on the green dressed cowl that was in front of her. The raven began to make the wires vibrate with the claws on her feet, going with her right foot first then her left. The process rinsed and repeated to make sure Liselotte had a bit of a challenge.

Liselotte furrowed her eyebrows and hung her head while moving her eyes up at the raven. She was beginning to lose her balance and as a result, she decided to alternate walking between the two wires that were side by side. Maria began to chuckle as she saw what Liselotte was doing. She held both wires up with her claws, standing on her heels, and brought them as high up as possible.

Once she let go, the wires started to vibrate much more than before. That wasn't just it, though, as they vibrated there was electricity visibly going through the wires heading towards Liselotte's way. Lotte jumped in the air as if she was an ice skater, landing onto the wires perfectly with only a few inches away from Maria.

"I wasn't aware you were trying to electrocute the person who saved you from going to jail."

Maria shrugged while having a smile that screamed she knew what she was doing. "I'm sorry, Miss Lawful, is it illegal to add a bit of the element of danger to something like this?"

Liselotte chuckled. "No, but it is illegal to purposely electrocute someone."

"Oh stop being Miss Lawful for a day and have some fun!" Maria spread her arms outward and stood on the wire on one foot. "It's not gonna kill ya to chillax some!"

As much as she hated some of the shit she did, Lotte couldn't help but smile as she walked away from her.

You set fire to my world, Couldn't handle the heat, Now I'm sleeping alone, And I'm starting to freeze.

Maria walked into the living room. She stretched and yawned while her feet went on and off the chocolate brown carpet. She looked up at the clock, seeing what the time was.

"Holy damn, it's real late. Speaking of, I wonder where Lotte is..."

Around one corner of the room, she saw Liselotte on the couch. Upon further inspection, Maria saw that she was asleep. Weird thing was that she seemed to be shivering despite the fact that the room wasn't that cold. It was rather pretty warm, maybe a bit hotter than warm at best. Maria silently chuckled, guessing that she despite the fact she's too much of a flame, Lotte needed her there so she wouldn't be an iceberg.

She went to grab a blanket, one of Liselotte's favorites to be more exact, and put the fern green blanket on top of her. Maria could see why it was her favorite, the color was somewhat like the color of one of her dad's eyes. It seemed like today was a very busy work day for her, as she wasn't even in her pajamas. She was still in that fancy French looking outfit, jabot and everything.

She would've been there to support her, but she had to be at home while her younger sister, Odalis, visited. For the Villa family, it was a holiday where the family had to be together and do some activities. It wasn't something Maria understood, but she participated anyways as she hadn't seen her sister in awhlie and she didn't want to bail out on her family. As rebellious-spirited as she was, it wasn't in her nature to ditch her family just to help a lawyer who was her friend and family friend's granddaughter. Lotte was fine with it and let her do what she needed to do.

Maria went into the kitchen, took the spaghetti out of the fridge and put it in the microwave. While it was heating up, she grabbed out the apple cider and put it in a tall, transparent orange cup. She put the cider away, stopped the microwave from going off so it didn't awaken Liselotte, and took the spaghetti, parmesan cheese, and her drink to the living room. Maria sat down next to Liselotte and started to eat her food.

Even though the sleeping cowl preferred it if she had newly cooked food to eat, Maria didn't want to leave her be for too long. Because of that, she only heated up the food that was from last night. Honestly though, the raven couldn't blame her for feeling so tired. It was a busy day for the both of them, with Maria having to run and fly a bit along with some other things. From that, she was tired as well and couldn't wait to fall asleep in their wooden bed that she made for them both.

She tried to eat up the spaghetti as fast as she could without choking herself. In between the mouthfuls of spaghetti that made her look like a chipmunk, Maria took some sips and swallows of apple cider that sat on the end table next to her while she ate. Liselotte's tail got on top of Maria's lap, causing the raven to move her food straight up without any of it falling over. She tried to move her big, fluffy tail aside but as soon as she went to put the plate on her lap, the tail moved onto there again. Maria only silently groaned.

Putting the plate onto the couch arm, Maria moved her body so it was facing towards the doorway to the kitchen. She finished up her food and drank up the rest of what was left in the cup. Maria turned her body around to get up, but as she did so Lotte's tail went straight upwards and hit her right in the face unintentionally. Maria's eyes were closed shut and her beak went into a sour frown. She put the plate on the end table and put her wings together with her pointer feathers up against one another.

"Woman I fucking love you to death but oh my fucking clouds I hate it when your tail hits my face like this and it makes me want to cut your tail to send it to hell and say 'goodbye you damn bitch' as it burns..." Maria whispered to herself.

She breathed in, and then she exhaled very slowly. Grabbing the plate, cheese, and cup, she headed into the kitchen. Maria put the plate and cup into the sink, rinsing them both before anything else. She put the cheese up onto one of the counters back where she got it from. Maria rubbed her eyes and walked back into the living room. Maria picked up Liselotte and put her over her shoulder, blanket still intact. It still surprised her that she was as light as a feather even though it shouldn't, as Lotte was a non-corporeal being so it would make sense for her to be as light as she was.

Maria opened the bedroom door and gently put Lotte down onto the bed. She changed into some shorts, not bothering to put a shirt on over her bra, and went into the same bed Lotte was on. She put her yellow varsity jacket on top of herself.

She gave Lotte a kiss on her marking. "G'night, Lotte."

Baby, come bring me help, Let it rain over me, Baby, come back to me.

Rain hit hard onto the pathway Lotte was running on. Nowhere had she seen Maria, not a single place could she find her. Liselotte looked every single place she could look and there was no sign nor trail of her anywhere. Running under a tree, she slammed her back against it and slid down to the bottom of it. Tears fell down the cowl lawyer's cheeks.

A little bit after her most recent case started, Maria had suddenly disappeared. Nobody saw where she went, no one heard her say anything about going anywhere, absolutely no word of her disappearance. Hearing about that after the second trial day terrified her deep inside. On the outside, she only replied to the news as calmly as she could since she had to be professional as possible.

Not only that, but considering it was the end of the trial for the day, she had to investigate and find more evidence to solve the case. So, due to that, she couldn't be a mess or take a single bit of time to cry. Now that it was after the whole trial, though, she had to find her no matter what.

Her paws went straight up to her face, concealing all but her forehead. It seemed like a nightmare that was never going to end. She only wanted it to stop and hoped that, if she was gone for good, it truly was a nightmare that she was suffering. She didn't know what she would do if Maria was missing forever. As Liselotte sobbed, the sound blended into the sound of the rain all around her.

"Lotte, what are you cryin' about? Don't ya know a knight should be keepin' their face all gorgeous and shit?" She had said.

Liselotte looked up and her eyes widened. Who was in front of her was Maria Amor Villa, the very person she was looking for. She was smiling as if she hadn't gone missing. Liselotte got up and stood right in front of her, looking up at the taller bird. After a few seconds went by, Liselotte punched her right in the wing.

"Whoa whoa calm down, Lotte! What was that for?"

"You fucking terrified the living hell out of me!" Liselotte gasped out.

Maria looked around Liselotte, seeing gold rose mist coming out of her. "Damn, you're pretty fucking pissed at me, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, you corporeal dumbass!" Lotte launched herself into Maria, hugging her tightly. "You've put me, your mothers, and Odalis into a damn panic! You made me think you could've been murdered, or- or even kidnapped you idiotic bitch!"

She gasped for air and sobbed onto her shoulder. Maria hugged back with her eyes widened.

"Damn, I..." That was all she could get out.

"...You- You made me think you could've been kidnapped and then murdered... Or- Or something...!" Lotte said. "All I had was your damn varsity jacket... How was I supposed to know you were okay, you son of a bitching jackass?"

"Sorry." Maria whispered, swallowing back the tears she had before she could give them the chance to fall. "I won't leave like that without letting you or at least your pops know again..."

Lotte pulled back, her face being all red and puffy. "Thank you." She sniffed. "I'm so glad you're alive. I didn't want to lose my partner after five cases. Or at all, actually."

Maria chuckled, sounding like she'd crack at any moment. "Well don't worry, you ain't losin' your first client, Lotte."

"Good." Liselotte took off the jacket she had on. "Oh, and you can have your varsity jacket back by the way."

"Well thank you! I was actually wondering where I left that." Maria put her jacket back on. "Say, do you wanna trash some public property?"

"...That's illegal, Maria."

Maria laughed. "I'm joking! I know you wouldn't be up for that!"

"You sound like you would be up for it."

"I definitely would be."

"If you dare do that type of shit, don't expect me to defend you in court for that. You'd be on your own there."

I want you to ruin my life, You to ruin my life, Yeah, to ruin my life, yeah, I want you to fuck up my nights, yeah, Fuck up my nights, yeah, All of my nights, yeah.

Every bit had to be perfect.

If even one thing was wrong, it'd fuck the whole thing up and she'd have to either fix it somehow or start from scratch. Maria didn't want to start from scratch, as it took her several hours working on it and she didn't want any of that to go to waste, especially not something like this. What she was working on was very important. Because of it she was hoping to get it finished before the next day.

She took a step back to look at the front of the sculpture. She scanned every part of the front to see if there was anything she needed to fix. Maria then turned the sculpture around to do the same to the other sides and so far, it didn't seem like there were any. The raven wiped the sweat off of her forehead with her arm. It was the biggest project she had ever worked on.

Maria rolled her jacket sleeves down and went to clean up the areas around the sculpture. Afterwards, she headed to her sister's room. She knocked on her door, awaiting a reply from her.

"Come in." Odalis replied.

Maria walked into the room. Her eyes were greeted with purpureus purple walls and victorian-like decor. Odalis's bed was in the upper right corner of the room with a coffee table at the end of it. When Maria looked to the left, she could see her sister there by the window. There was a little table next to her and it had tubes of paint on it, all seemingly pastel colors and not much dark colors besides black.

She walked next to the table that had the tubes of paint on it. She looked at what Odalis was painting onto the canvas. As expected, Maria saw a skeleton with flesh and fur melting off of them. The skeleton was smiling with tears going down their bare bones and they were surrounded by sedum flowers. The painting looked like it was nearly done, just color in the flowers and add some extra touches. Maria then looked at her sister, who had her hair in a big braid and had a painting apron on over her sky magenta dress.

After another stroke or two, Odalis laid down her paintbrush then looked at Maria.

"Mind if I borrowed some of your paints, sis?"

The hummingbird raised her eyebrow. "Who is the project you're working on for?" She crossed her arms.

"What? Can't I paint my stuff every once in a while, Ode?" Maria questioned. "Is it a crime all of a sudden?"

"You never, and I mean never, paint your stuff unless it's for someone or it's a special occasion, and I'm not aware of anything 'special' going on." Odalis stared at her blankly, making it appear she had soulless eyes. "So who is it for, Mimi? There's nothing to be ashamed of, so you can drop your 'jockish' act."

Maria breathed in to argue, but gave in and sighed. "Okay, follow me."

Both of them went to Maria's bedroom, or as she would like to call it her 'working place', and she showed Odalis the sculpture she made.

"This is what I've made and it's for Lotte."

"Lotte, as in Liselotte, the person who defended you so you wouldn't go to jail for a few years and be known as a murderer?"

"Yes her."

Odalis stared at the sculpture for a few seconds, letting out a 'hmm' looking at it. She then looked back at her sister.

"I'll let you borrow some of my best paints for this."

Maria's eyes widened. "Hold up, you're giving me your best paints?"

"Yep. Considering she's very important to you, I'll allow you to use my best paints this one time."

"Oh my clouds that's-" She cleared her throat. "I mean, thanks sis."

Odalis patted her shoulder. "No problem."

She left the room and got her paints for the sculpture. Maria grabbed a paintbrush, opened up one of Odalis's paint cans, and started painting the sculpture. Odalis left her be and went back to her room to finish up her painting. Maria took her time to paint it, get every little area and do every little detail as much as she could. As the sun went down, Maria turned on the light next to the crafting table she was painting on.

She washed the brush at the sink next to her work station and started painting with another color, a nice luscious shade of green that she needed to be exact. Maria started putting on an even coat of paint onto the clothing part of the sculpture. Her eyelids fell and her head started to fall down, but she smacked herself and kept on painting. She had to keep going even if she's dead tired. She laid down the paint brush and went into her mini fridge, grabbing a caffeinated drink to gulp down.

Maria wiped the drink off of her beak and kept working. She heard the door open but she didn't bother to look over there. All she did was turn the sculpture slightly and kept painting. The raven felt a wing go on her shoulder.

"You should sleep, Mimi. It's not good to stay up all night to work on something."

Maria yawned. "I'll be fine Ode, just need to finish up painting, let it dry, and I'll put a clear coat on it so moss won't grow on it."

"Alright," Odalis sighed through her nostrils, "but don't come crying your colors off if you drop dead from exhaustion while working on this. I know she fucks up your nights badly, but don't go make your exaggerations truth, Mimi."

She then walked away from Maria, closing the door behind her. Maria finished up the rest of the painting and yawned. She stretched and decided to go walking around the house so she didn't fall asleep while she waited for the paint to dry. After she walked around her house a couple of times she went back to her bedroom and checked to see if it was dry. It was good enough for her to put a clear coat on and so she did, putting on a good amount of it.

When she was done, she cleaned up her brush and put it away, put the paint cans back in Odalis's room, and went to her bed. As soon as she got onto her bed and closed her eyes Maria passed out.

Knocking on the door, Maria woke up and got off of her bed immediately. She went to the door and opened it slightly to see who it was. Apparently, it was Liselotte standing right there. Maria panicked, coming straight out of the room, closing her door right away, and leaned her back onto the door to make sure Liselotte couldn't get in or see what was in there.

"Hey Lotte, didn't expect to see you here!"

"Well, good afternoon to you too." Lotte replied. "Didn't know you sleep until noon."

"Oh that? Yeah I was working on something last night so I was up for quite a bit!" She leaned her shoulder onto the doorframe. "So what brings you here?"

"My grandmother wanted to meet with your mothers so she thought it'd be nice to bring me here as well."

"Ain't that great!" Maria exclaimed enthusiastically.

"So, mind if I see what you were working on?"

Maria gulped. "Oh uh, sure but I haveta make sure I- Hold on a second!"

Lotte opened the door and looked to the right. What she saw caused her to widen her eyes and have her right paw up to her mouth. If Maria didn't know any better, it seemed like she was ready to shed some tears, which caused her to worry. Lotte walked up to the sculpture taking a careful look at it. She didn't expect Maria to make a sculpture of her of all people. Afterwards she then looked at Maria, whom of which was sweating bullets.

"Is... Is this for me?"

"I, uh, yeah. It... Kinda is honestly." Maria scratched her neck.

Liselotte hugged her. "I'd like to give you my gratitude and my thanks. It's... Amazing! I- I didn't think anybody would make a sculpture of me, much less go as detailed as this."

"Ha well, I mean-"

"You even did the badge that I wear, I didn't even know you could see all of the details of it!"

"Well no problem, glad you like it! Uh... You gonna, stop hugging me now or?"

"In a bit."

I want you to bring it all on, If you make it all wrong, Then I'll make it all right, yeah.

Liselotte walked into the detention center room, sitting down right across from the suspect who was separated from her with glass on the table between the two. She saw how the raven hung her head, only looking at her legs. Lotte swiftly swung her right leg over her left.

"Greetings, madam Villa, I am Liselotte Sauber-VanRompa." She said introducing herself. "May you tell me what happened?"

She only moved her head up some, just enough to look at her. "Last night, during the evening, I was just walking home after getting a few of those palette holder things that artists have to hold their paints for my sister. She would've done it, but Mother and M'ma needed her home for something. I saw a person lying on the ground and I went to see if they were okay. When I got closer I saw there was blood on the ground and I didn't know what to do. Before I knew it, a dozen dog knights surrounded me before I could do anything and... Well, you know the rest."

Liselotte only stared at her, wondering if she was telling the truth or not. While it was the first case she was tackling, she couldn't be too sure if a possible client was lying or if she was being honest. The suspect slammed her arms onto the table, putting her head up against the glass. What she did frightened the cowl despite not showing so physically besides her eyes widening.

She began to sob. "Please... Please help me. I can't go to jail, I- I can't just... Just leave Odalis like this, not all because I'm wrongly accused of murdering someone!"

That did it for Liselotte, she was telling the truth. No real murderer would purposely kill someone and cry real tears when it came to thinking about someone they need to take care of. She put her paws up onto the glass, intentionally making sound so the other bird could see.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be proven not guilty. You got my word, Miss Villa."

The raven wiped the tears off of her face, sniffing in the process. "Thank you. And you can call me Maria, by the way, no need to be so formal."

"Okay, Miss... I mean, Maria. I'll find out who did it and prove your innocence."

[i-am-an-accidental-hipster]

this "Mataguy Madness" is interesting, sounds a bit r/nosleep-esque. Give us all the spooky stories! (If you wanna) :D

Heh, i don’t know if they’re spooky, but that may be because I’ve lived it.

Ok, so the camp that I work at is called “Mataguay”. It borders on the local kumeyaay reservation, as in if you wander too far up the slope of one of the hills they are legally allowed to shoot you. I’ve never tested it, and I don’t intend to.

We have ghost stories at the camp, but it is common knowledge among the staff that the stories are almost entirely made up. there is some true information to be found in it, though. the valley used to belong to the kumeyaay, and they had a conflict with the spaniards, a lot of them died and were supposedly buried in a mass grave on one side of the valley, and then english (or american? not sure) settlers moved in. most of the new guys were jerks, but this one guy (Trainer? Traynor?) was more nice to them, i guess. then he was crushed by a tree branch and died, and the kumeyaay created a memorial stone for him in his favorite part of camp, and his wife’s ashes were spread around it when she died. supposedly the stone is cursed, which of course means that people dare each-other to touch it. his barn is still standing, btw. then the portion of the land which trainer owned was donated by his daughter to the boy scouts. later, when the kumeyaay needed money they sold part of their land to the camp. and then some more later on.

also, the camp is infested with Datura Stramonium, a very potent and highly lethal psychoactive plant, so take everything i’m about to say with a grain of salt. but also, i’m not making any of this up. this is all stuff that happened as i remember it.

there were some red flags that the camp was a haunted madhouse right when I joined, because right off the bat one of the more experienced staff encountered a doppelganger. of me.

apparently she was walking over near the old observatory when she heard, very distinctly, my voice shouting a greeting to her “from the trees”. She ran up to me and literally asked me “were you in the trees? i heard your voice coming from the trees”. i had just come from the trading post, not the old observatory, so i said no, and she seemed very distressed by the revelation.

even back then, when the madness had not come over me, i could tell that there was something wrong about Mountain Man Meadow. Every other part of camp had a sort of natural white noise to it, with crickets, frogs, bats, and even just the wind making some kind of noise. But when we held an astronomy outing in the meadow that year, it was eerily, deafeningly silent. and there was a feeling of oppressive dread which seemed to emanate from the place, almost as if the shadows were moving of their own volition. it creeped me out enough to distract me from the astronomy, and I love astronomy.

mataguay madness always starts with one landmark event, which marks the point where you first start to crack. for most, it comes in the form of violantly intrusive thoughts, like “I wonder what my life would be like if I were a little french girl”, followed by an inability to process reality for a minute or two, and can strike even in the middle of a class in front of an audience (actual example, and no, the guy is not trans). It usually strikes at the end of the second year. mine was more... dramatic.

... i got high...

...on ice cubes.

i’m not kidding. I wasn’t even eating the ice, I was holding a large clump of ice cubes in my hands, watching them melt and feeling the cold run through my fingers. then, I started to snicker. the snicker developed into a chuckle, then into a loud, uncontrollable, almost painful cackle. one of the other staff came over to me to see if i was alright, but was rather taken aback by how utterly unhinged i looked, rocking back and forth and laughing like a stereotypical asylum patient. i calmed down after a few more seconds, but i was forever changed.

years later, a friend of mine who i would later date for a time suffered her bout of madness by tearing the bean-bag chairs apart, spreading around the little Styrofoam pellets, and giggling hysterically as she rubbed some of them into my hair. not as dramatic, but pretty similar. she had no idea why she did it.

anyways, the next year i officially joined staff, as the astronomy instructor. and for whatever reason i decided to take a plastic owl I had found in the upper room while I was sorting (one of the ones used to scare off rats and such) and carry it in my arms. for the entire summer. I named it Arcturus. Also, because I thought I was hilarious, I told everyone that I could use it to steal people’s souls if they displeased me. All the campers found it funny (for the most part), and so did the younger staff. The older staff, on the other hand, seemed to become afraid of the owl. They actually asked me to turn it away from them when I would set it on the table during meals. I thought that was hilarious too, until they kidnapped it and through it away during the last week of camp. I had grown rather attached to the thing over that summer, so i was notably distressed when I found out. One of the other staffers gave me a replacement owl, Spica, which I still have in my room.

the next year, i completely changed my look. I still wore my staff uniform, but over it I wore a lab-coat i had found in one of the drawers at my house, i changed my haircut, and i carried around a large “walking stick” i had found in the woods. this may seem irrelevant now, but it will become relevant later, as I basically kept this look for the next 4 years, and was instantly recognizable.

My eyes began developing a bit of a quirk. i could barely stand the daylight, but during the night i could see perfectly, as if it were day (I still have this). The constellations started to reveal themselves to me, but not as if I were learning their shapes but more like they were actual people, introducing themselves to me. sometimes, i could almost hear them speaking to me, and could certainly feel them. As soon as the stars came out, I would feel as if my body were humming with some kind of power. i can’t explain it. i began wandering around at night without a flashlight, sometimes crossing the entire valley just to play diablo 2. where i used to feel the shadows crowding around me, now I could kinda see them, but they always seemed to be fleeing from me. they looked like a shadowy haze in the vague form of man. occasionally, they would group up and try to bar my way, but i would just stare at them and start singing “Flying Fortress”, or reciting the Saint Michael prayer, and they would part around me. I was never quite sure if what I was seeing was real, or the result of an over-active imagination, though.

Back to mountain man meadow, my area was right next to it, and i began noticing some strange things about it, not the least of which was the blood-curdling scream which came from the forest just beyond it every once and awhile at sunset, a scream of a little girl. we actually sent in search parties to figure out who was screaming, but we never found anything. might have been a goat. but i also know that there were footprints that would appear in the meadow whenever one wasn’t looking. i checked.

apparently the meadow is right next to that kumeyaay mass grave I mentioned earlier. I could never get an exact answer on where said grave was relative to the meadow, though. other people have said that they saw actual apparitions there, a little girl in a white dress and a little boy in a small headress, both silent. One guy even claimed the first one followed him around, though he also he believes he saw the ghost from our false ghost story, so...

ok, so my madness was bad, but this one guy... i dunno. it was either madness or he was stupid as a brick. he ended up stabbing himself through his sleeping bag somehow, apparently while “trying to stab a rat that was on the wall next to him”. i don’t doubt the part about the rat, as i have had to bed a foot from a tarantula, but HOW DOES ONE MISS AT A 90 DEGREE ANGLE AND STAB ONE’S LEG IN A SLEEPING BAG WHILE TRYING TO STAB A RAT? anyways, he goes to the hospital to have it stitched up, and he comes back a week later with explicit instructions to stay out of the water or the cut will re-open

the first thing he does when he gets back is jump in the pool. he spends the rest of the week in the med lodge. he comes out the next week only to do the exact same thing, and repeat. administration began confiscating his knives, and he kept buying new ones and bringing them to camp, often playing with them dangerously in front of the scouts. he got fired.

now for mataguay magic. during that very same year, there was a revival of mataguay’s apparently very old practice of what is called “rain turtles”, though they are more properly called weather turtles. their purpose is to change the weather. it’s kinda like alchemy, ah-la FMA. first you draw a circle on the ground, and then draw four legs, a head, and a tail on it so it looks like a turtle as viewed from above. then you draw the kind of weather you want inside it, usually rain. you dig a shallow hole in the center, and then place something of the same “element” as what you want in the hole, usually spitting in it for rain. then you dance around it in a circle, counterclockwise while spinning around counterclockwise as well. The intended weather usually strikes within 48 hours. our “camp witchdoctor” earned his title when he had his class each make they’re own rain turtles in mountain man meadow every week, resulting in every weekend being covered in an absolute deluge. he actually got in trouble with administration, not for teaching his students magic but for doing the ritual the day before clean-up day every week, because even the administration believed the stuff actually works. as if to spite them, he then made a turtle with a picture of a fire in it and threw his lighter into it. low and behold, the next morning the other side of the hills from camp burst into flames. never reached us, but still. he was then banned from making weather turtles ever again.

now for mataguay religion. during that very same year, a cult began to form around the program director. largely because he was the first good program director we had in years. at first it was all in fun, with chants of “hail [redacted]” and much air-punching. then it got weird. some of the older staff began taking pictures of him while he was asleep (a rare occurrence, as he pulled way too many all-nighters to try to fix all the problems the previous directors had caused) and making said pictures the desktop background for every computer they could get their hands on. they changed the screen-savers to “hail [redacted]”, and taped that phrase on the wall of my area’s staircase in red tape, with the “hail” spelled the german way. because of course it was. I happened to share a name with said program director, so in order to keep people from thinking i was an egotistical nazi i would tear the message down, only to have it show up the next day. Then our camp witch-doctor took it too far, and signed it up with the state as a protestant sect and became a minister of it. since then, even though that program director left I haven’t been able to escape the cult, largely because we have the same name and everyone thinks that I’m the god of mataguay. I really don’t like it, and it may have contributed to the full emergence of my doppelganger last year.

the camp witch doctor mentions to me, almost off-handedly, that the spirits of the camp seem scared of me.

the next year was the first time camp begins to suspect there is something up. about ME. one of the administration comments he heard footsteps and the muffled sound of my voice emanating from my classroom in the middle of the night. he goes to check, but there is no-one there, but he feels a certain wrongness in the place. he goes back down stairs only to hear footsteps again, this time leaving the room, and then heading off in the direction of mountain man meadow. he asks me about it the next day, only for me to tell him that i had been on the other side of camp doing an astronomy outing. there is much perplextion on either side. it also comes to my attention that people have begun seeing what looks like the glow of electric lights in trainer’s house, even though no-one lives there and further there is no electric current running to the house, as no-one has ever bothered to run an electric cable out that far. i remembered a time when we were walking back from the camp ghost story as a tenderfoot and i saw a blue flickering light in that very same house which i had assumed was an old tv set.

by this point i have started to talk to the constellations and greet them when they appear, and also to yell at the sun to stop hogging the glory

the next year, near the end of the year, i come across a friend of mine who is trying to get out of working his area the next day. I catch him performing an extremely bastardized version of the rain turtle ritual and, even though i have avoided ever doing the ritual myself, i feel compelled to correct him. this turned out to be a mistake. upon completing the ritual, i feel a tugging sensation in my gut, and he and i and this one scout who was watching us nearby felt both the temperature and pressure drop in three waves over a course of 5 seconds, and clouds begin appearing on the horizon. the scout was awestruck and begins asking what i just did, my friend was elated, and i... i was highly disturbed.it rained from thursday to tuesday that week, and the forecast said it as supposed to be sunny with slight clouds. i have never performed that ritual ever again, because i felt like a bit of me seeped into the land when i did so.

this turned out to be a bit of a prophetic feeling, because at the beginning of the next year a series of disturbing events started to occur. the first evidence that something was seriously wrong was that, a week before we moved back into the cabins they already showed signs of being haunted for some unknown reason. only two people were on camp at the time: a new staffer and one who had worked there for nearly a decade and a half. the older one fell asleep in the cabins, with the lights off, while the new one went to the staff lounge to get a drink. he came back to find the lights on, and the older staff member still asleep. he woke u the older staffer to ask him who turned the lights on, only to have the older one look at him with confusion (the older one has very low-functioning autism, and has never been known to lie even in jest, so i doubt he was playing any kind of trick).

2 weeks later, I got annoyed when someone was vaping in the cabin and the fumes kept wafting over to my bunk and with the fact that they were going to press people into work parties as soon as we woke up, so I got up without telling anyone, left my sleeping bag on the bunk, and went to go sleep on one of the comfy couches in the staff lounge. keep in mind, i did this in the middle of the night. in the morning, the person next to my bed told me that he could have sworn that he heard me get up at 5am, say “they’ll never find me”, and walk out the door. he was adamant that he had heard me say it, and was baffled when i told him i was in the staff lounge the whole time. however, i also mentioned that i did wake up briefly at 5 am and think that exact thought.

soon thereafter, an even more anomalous thing occurred: the shadow people began to come back, and with such frequency and audacity that even the new staff began to see them clearly. many of them appeared at one of my old haunts, a concrete platform next to a broken shack known as the “old observatory”, though I never saw them there myself. one of them even walked towards a trio of new staff into the moonlight so that it was fully visible as a hazy, black mist in the shape of a man. that trio shortly fled the area.

even so, it seems the shadow people were still afraid of me. Once, when I was sitting up on the hill overlooking the dining hall at night, I saw a shadow flit past my shoulder, and it was running towards the staff cabins. I stood up and addressed it directly. I told it I would not harm it, and that I wanted to see what it looked like. It paused, turned towards me, and the shadow collapsed into a single point in mid-air, which shifted to become an orange-red light. It only stayed that way for a moment before changing back to it’s shadow form and speeding away from me as fast as it’s shadow legs could carry it.

but that was only the prelude of what was to come, because soon after that, IT started showing up, visibly. And by it, I mean me. Whatever had been copying my voice and footsteps before now was copying my appearance as well. staff became adamant that they saw me, walking silently between Mountain Man Meadow and the Fort, with my white lab-coat blowing in the breeze and my walking stick clacking on the asphalt in time with my steps. Two things were wrong with that: #1 I was on the other side of camp playing Warcraft 2 and #2 I never walk quietly. I always sing or chant or pray aloud when walking at night, as loud as I can, because I can. Me moving in silence at night is so out of character it was jarring to hear. In most cases when the staff member in question called to me in greeting, “I” did not speak up but instead glanced over in their direction without expression and waved mechanically back at them. we began calling this other me “[redacted]” which is my name backwards. when I later ask one of my friends who was into magic if i had indeed been it two places at once, she got back to me a day later and told me “that thing wasn’t you. don’t go back there.”

I think it was the first time in a long time I had actually been scared of something supernatural in nature. as silly as it might be, there is something dreadful about thinking that at any moment you might see your own face staring at you blankly through the window. even today, a year after having quit the job, I still have difficulty looking in mirrors, as it brings back foul memories of fearing the sight of my own face.

i had one regret upon finally leaving the camp, after so long, and that regret was leaving my friends, the constellations. sure, I had set up a promising successor to teach the badge (i never had anyone to teach me), but I knew that for a time the quality of instruction would take a serious nose-dive. And I also knew that I would miss seeing the constellations. i live in a place with a lot of light pollution, so it can be hard to find a place to see my old friends properly, whereas in mataguay they veritably blaze in the sky, cold and beautiful. and i knew, somehow, that the constellations would miss me too, miss me retelling their stories or explaining fun facts about the stars within them. Above all, I would miss Scorpio, the first constellation I would see each evening, the one I liked to talk to most. sure, i could see them occasionally on camp-outs and whatnot, but it wouldn’t be the same. call it madness if you will, but that day I feel like I lost some good friends.

[tenaciouscupcaketaco]

“

1989-2017 Poetic Work Of Mario William Vitale

(Manuscript of Poet Mario William Vitale) From 1993-1997 - Attended State University in Connecticut,Attempted plays : Tartuffe, Miracle Of St. Anthony and Balm in Gieade,( His poetic aspirations had in 1989 from submitting his first poem entitled, "Remembrance Of A Loved One"- (Sparrowgrass Poetry Forum)Next from 1989-1997 ( Wrote primarily for Poetry.com and The International Library Of Poetry),* Received editors choice award in 1997 for poem, " A Beacon Of Light ",(1998) Sent poetic manuscript to N.Y. Time Magazine and Chief Editor " John Hyland".Back with rave reviews !* ( From 1999-2008:Had adapted a real keen sense of style for writing poetry: ( 1999- Sent Editorial to:New Man Magazine for the Passion of Christ Movie;Sent followup letter to company with poetry platform information attached,* 2000-2007 : Magazine : ( Catholic) Maries Rose Ferron Magazine submitted poem" Beacon Of Light", which had excellent editorial reviews as the outset !2008- Wrote poem entitled: ( The Heavy Cross) to Poetry.com* Achieved Poetry status of work of Excellence in writing from the Academy Of American Poetry in which still having received rank and status as a member of Academy;* ( The Connecticut Poetry Society)* Short story submitted entitled, "China Dog Ray" submitted to Virginia WritersQuarterly, West Virginia, Also having member status on their board of Poetry.* ( Attribute Poetry to an ever increasing love of God and his unconditional love that he has for us in return,Thankfulness toward family and friends.( To our past ancestors who fought to uphold freedom that far too many of us take for granted ?One needs a pure heart that's fixed on truth,This is in order to withstand the true great test of time !Life is way too short,Press toward the goal or mark of our high calling that is in Christ Jesus The Lord !~My contempoarry artists include that of ellan Bryant Voight, Kay Ryan and carl Phillips.Which all three are Participants in the Academy Of American Poetry.* Having been a member since 2006,My work reflects the likes of past poets such as C.S.Lewis, Hawthorne and edgar Allen Poe.Most of my work reflects with the values of religious beliefs intact,( In my personal view it is essential in demonstrating a real heart of creativepassion !The reader I believe will benefit by my artistic style of development in a verypositive light.)To further the need for poetry to become more main stream, Mario Vitale was born in Bristol , Ct Has developed a skill for writing poetry in the free verse form. has been featured on Hubpages.com, Starlitecafe.com & Poetry soup. Vitale lives with his elderly mother Ann Soulier in Wolcott, Ct. Currently has written well over 1,000 poems & 2 short story's toward credit platform. Vitale has taken the poetic world by storm being featured on Google, Yahoo & MSN. Looks up to contemporaries in the poetry industry such as John Ashbery & Major Jackson. Has been a favorite featured poet reader at Barnes & Noble in Waterbury, Ct. Also featured on such sites as Poetry soup, Writer's café & Neo Poet. Mario William Vitale 1 Winfield Drive Wolcott, ct 06716 A Beacon Of Light Written by: Mario Vitale A beacon of light to a much hurting world in need ! Can't help but to claim.., Some sense of identity, Stregnth and encouragement only come from above ! Amidst in the distance, the trapped seagull.., Lieth frightened but still yet adrift ! In a most vengeful fashion striking the passing fish, A true source of hope, Yet a most triumphal beam ! This beacon of light shineth forth, Passerby's can err' escape the helping hand.., To the most sparkling of radiance ! (2)Thanksgiving Dinner by Mario Vitale Home for the holiday from New Orleans, with Mother and Father at the tiny drop leaf, brown rosewood, mahogany table with the gold, grinning claw feet; Father, choler- red-in the-face, short- sleeved white shirt and cane, says the blessing as Mother brings in the turkey and cranberry. Then Mother asks, “Won’t you have more?” and father : “Do you think Moll Flanders was a whore?” (I have suffered and bleached my hair blond.) I am silent before their replies. Mother sighs. “I can scarce speak to her.” And Father, too, quotes Shakespeare. (I am thin as paper and the rose- colored bowl of blown glass sitting on the silver stand, half- filled with water.) “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless daughter” (3) Song of Spring Today I heard a robin sing heralding the coming spring A song of exultation to the sky an ode to earth's awakening I saw a willow on the hill It's branches greening in the sun and all the earth seemed hushed & still sleeping streams began to run I heard a softly rising breeze whispering through the grass singing through the still bare trees waiting winter's chill to pass I saw the sun, so bright and warm warming the earth after the rain the buds and leaves, no frost to harm at least, at last, it's spring again. (4) The Ancients It's my last day with the old giants In mourning I hike the lost trails, sniffing the aroma of the bark, that cinnamon of the forest Under tepees of wood in a membrane of shadows, I stalk the earth, its mammal traces, its elusive tracks, to sit on a fallen log where spiders macramé, moss sloping to my knees unaware of invisibles within, grubbing in their tunnels A lizard taps my foot, responding, I muse to its touch, my thoughts like Indian visions, And when daylight mushrooms into night, and an owl hoots from cedar, I still sit with a lizard on my shoe Huddled with the ancients of the woods (5) Epiphany Written by: Mario Vitale It clings to the cliffed shore, to the wintered face of the thistle path, to the fingers of the old man's glove as he waves his memory homeward In that breath between come and go she moves up from the bay; gold turns her stride, the line of her dress, the soft sea pulling at her feet When he reaches out and the frail birds fly and the sun and the sky have married deep into the sea, it clings Even as his shadow threads retreat, it clings, even now as it dissolves to mist (6) A Return Home, Only Time Will Tell Written by: Mario Vitale Oh blessed hope ! Both hardly a believable dream, Sweltering heat with bloodshed in the street... Send the troops home ! There is no clear reason for them to roam.., These are desolate times ! For we have chosen ill faded rhymes.., The casualties are enormous ? For a stated cause that clearly atrocious.., A mother's cry as the door chime rings, A vanishing salute to freedom as the church choir sings ! Let us look above to all the heavenly love.., Merciful one, take this chip off my shoulder.., Stop the senseless fighting before our dear nation grows a bit colder, Suddenly, seeds were dropped out of a farmers bag, In time roots spring up fresh out of the fertile soil... As the sun heats up, Time will tell when this harvest will soon boil... In the vast game of life, One's time is so very brief ! The soul yearns for its' heavenly relief.., Share with others who may want to turn over a brand new leaf.., Time will tell of the true importance of helping one another, To never give into the finish line.., Nor harsh criticism that our society puts out ! Like a famous fighter in his final bout ! Time will tell of the return home, To the open arms of a loved one ! (7) A Valiant Knight Written by: Mario Vitale A Valiant Knight Death springs a new day basking in the breeze In solemn moments lets pause to think of a place A far off castle in the mountains away from it all A valiant knight lived in the structure of it's dwelling Those days of old where mere men had a noble demise A beautiful maiden was in waiting for her knight He would often fight for the cause of stregnth and dignity The draw bridge where the castle stood had a very unique aura A mystery of sort sought up in the vast array of crowned nobility For the king on his thrown was humble yet greedy Always would take care of himself caring nothing for the needy A valiant knight was concerned about the kings trust Often they would disagree on who it was to serve A joker came in front of the king one day with a magic wand Waving the wand in the air then there floated ivy everywhere For the court jester was a fool in the making of his legacy The maiden would often come forth and see For she treasured a red rose that was plucked sometime before Cherished the calling of her stature to the glory of the throne A valiant knight would often sing sweet songs in the night Had a following of village people that would sit before his feet Having a way of words that he would often share The castle was filled with dragons and warlocks searching for love A cause to be brave amidst uncertainty of the kingdom The legacy of golden capulets filled ardent vestibules Let us toast to the valiant knight who keeps a watch on all that is good (8) Hampton Beach The smell of fresh fry doe Time had elapsed playing at the casino Fresh lobster with a side order of fries Those spacious wonderful sky's Down at the shell the continental were playing A walk by the lady of a statue in waiting Flip flops and the sound of laughter A playground for kids in the middle The boardwalk with seagulls flocking over head Fire works in the midnight air with a cheer (9) God's World It is raining again. Summer will be over before it ever gets here Thunder rolls far away, drops hit the windshield, the sky turns gray The Sunflower, the blue Delpinium, the white Stinkwood drink the moisture greedily. The green and silver leaves of the Aspens sparkle as the rain hits them, and the wind turns them round and round The creek flows on, oblivious to the change in the weather. A break in the clouds allows a bit of sun to hit the side of a towering mountain TRate this poem:(0.00 / 0 votes)

Mario William Vitale