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lightxshadow · 1 year ago

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it would seem zialla had gotten too close to the flames, and she did worry that it would be a costly mistake, but days of whispers, of judgement, of rumours had built up into anger. truthfully, it could have been anyone who'd say what lucrezia had and there was a good chance zia would have reacted in a similar way. although perhaps lady redwyne's words unconsciously affected her more as she knew how close the woman was to garland, how her opinion might actually matter compared to the other prejudiced people she had come across. it was easier to ignore the intolerance of some old lady from the corner of the kingdom who she was unlikely to come across many times in her life, it was a different thing entirely to have a hightower cousin sharing that view.

but regardless of lucrezia's reaction to her words, zialla would not stand down now. she did not agree to a lifetime of feeling inferior when she agreed to wed garland hightower. that was the very thing that she had wanted to escape from. the limbo of being a daughter of a third-born son who wished for power beyond his station. a religious leader, a rich keyholder to the iron bank, but also someone who had to bow to the whims of his older brother who ruled the city. "of course you have the right to be prejudiced. it is not a virtue i'd be proud of or a right i'd insist upon, but i guess we truly are very different."

when she spoke of the recent events in alayim, a conflict that broke out after the betrothal had already been agreed upon and zialla had boarded the ship to oldtown, she felt her anger boil to a new high. "my father has done more to fight against the fanatics among the followers of r'hllor, pentoshi or not, than you or anyone in westeros has ever done or ever will do. but i guess we heathens are one and the same to you." at least zialla had studied the scriptures that lucrezia did not want her to speak of, but she very much doubted that the other lady knew anything about the r'hllorists, of how they differed to each other, of how the fanatics were waiting for azor ahai while zialla knew he would never return. she wanted to argue that none of the followers of r'hllor in braavos were fanatics anymore, but she knew that recently more had begun listening to the preachings of asshai. she also knew her father was fighting against the extremism that seemed to have gripped many young followers. "perhaps you are right that is unbecoming to talk of what you don't truly understand, i would suggest you listen to your own words, lady redwyne. do not lecture me about my side of the world or the conflict that is currently tearing through it. you only care because the war is now on holy land, but for the braavosi, the conflict with pentos and the conflict with the fanatics are centuries old."

zialla knew it was dangerous to continue this conversation. she did not trust herself not to say something that would make this whole interaction even worse. "no, my lady, i do not think we have anything more to discuss. i shan't burden you to keep the company of a heathen." she dropped down into a small curtsy. "i hope you have a lovely evening." zia left in a hurry, putting as much distance between herself and lady redwyne as possible, before she eventually found herself back at the side of garland.

it would be wisest of zia to brush it off, apologise if she had given that impression and simply move on from this conversation without giving the lady of the arbor any weapon to potentially use against her in the future. the last thing she needed was to risk angering a hightower cousin. but she actually respected that lucrezia spoke outright. others had been perfectly kind to her face, but then she saw them whispering later, their judging eyes fixed upon her as they did. at least this woman had the nerve to speak plainly. whether on purpose or by coincidence, garland’s cousin had gifted her a chance to defend herself. perhaps lucrezia simply wished for a chance to list all the reasons why the reaction was perfectly understandable, but it was still an opportunity for zia to say what she wished to say. it was a sudden change in their dance of false kindness and stiff smiles, but she was nothing if not adaptable and she would follow suit. before zialla could stop herself, she replied just as truthfully while staring directly into a pair of hazel eyes. “i do feel somewhat slighted, yes.” and now that it had been said, she knew that she must continue. it could be a terrible idea to be so honest with lucrezia, but if she was ready to let the mask fall away, zia had no choice but to respect it and offer the same. sometimes the truth was more effective than comfortable lies.

while there was no denying that zialla did possess a temper and that lucrezia had caused it to flare slightly, it ironically simmered down as she started talking. “i am the daughter of an ambitious man who made a deal with another ambitious man for my hand in marriage. as most ladies i have had very little say in the matter of my betrothal.” in fact, she had once wished to wed another, but lord methyso had made it clear that she was meant for greater things. that she would be lady of a powerful house in westeros, have a keep of her own, and birth children that would one day rule their corner of the world. mero was a third son and could not provide that. she had accepted it and moved on. mero had thought she had let it go too easily, but the truth was that she did want the things her father wanted for her as well. a title and the power that came along with it. she wanted a secure and grand home meant for her children one day. she did not wish for them to grow up in the shadow of their family estate, knowing that it could never belong to them. “and while i am glad to marry ser garland as we are well suited for each other, i do find it hard to accept being judged for things i have never had any say in.” the problem the people of the reach had with her was that she was not born in their lands, that she did not practice their religion yet. she could have converted to the religion of the seven before leaving braavos, but she knew how that would have complicated matters for her father. it would have lost him support among the followers of r'hllor in braavos and they were the key to his power. “i have spent years with a tutor learning your language, reading your scriptures, understanding your customs, being taught about the kingdoms.” and it had taken a lot of time. it had not come naturally to her at first. it was time lost that she could have spent with family and friends that she knew she would be forced to leave behind when she left for her new life, but zia had made that sacrifice to give herself a better start in her new life. “i have not come here without making an effort.” she had come to master the common tongue through sheer will and stubbornness even if her braavosian accent was still very noticeable.

zialla spoke in a low but polite tone despite the words that seemed to roll off her tongue effortlessly. “it seems to me that some people are judging me for things outside my control, for things i can never change. i will convert and live by the guidance of the seven for the rest of my life, but i cannot change that i was born as a follower of r'hllor. i will spend the rest of my days in this kingdom, if the gods see it so, but i cannot change the fact that i am braavosian.” and she was proud of it despite leaving most of her old life behind when she stepped off the ship. zia could only imagine how people would have reacted if she had still dressed as a braavosian, if she had spoken the language of her home around them. she continued on, wanting to have said all she had to say, while also sending the ball back to lucrezia’s side of the court. “i am not surprised that men blame me for the decisions of other men, but i was expecting some understanding amongst the women here. perhaps that was foolish of me.” men were unaware of their privilege of having such a say over their own destinies. it was the same here as at home. but in braavos, she had always felt there was a hidden understanding among the ladies that they were all tied to the choices made for them, not by them. “i hope you do not misunderstand me, my lady. i am not asking to be free from judgement, but i am of the belief that civilised people would judge me based on who i am, not where i am from or the faith i was born into. everything else is quite narrow-minded and prejudiced, both traits of a more primitive mind. and traits your wise scriptures do not seem to deem good behaviour considering their view on the concepts of kindness and mercy.” she knew the lady of the arbor was a religious woman. zialla knew that this was truly akin to getting too close to the flames, hoping the fire would not suddenly roar up as it was fuelled by a log and burn you. she plastered on another fake smile in an effort to douse the fire. “and something i am sure you do not support, lady redwyne. perhaps i simply misunderstood you ― and if that’s the case then i pray for your forgiveness for my little rant.”

#( c: lucrezia redwyne 001. )#and that's a wrap for me!

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mindofasupernova · 4 years ago

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The Inventor Part 2

Kaz Brekker x reader

Description: A killer is on the loose, eliminating Kaz's informants. In a desperate attempt, Kaz meets a certain inventor that has his mind racing, trying to figure out the complex puzzle she is.

Hope you like it, let me know what you think.

Kaz

A corpse? That's what she wanted? Did she think that he just kept all the bodies of his deceased workers in his room? How the hell was he supposed to get his hands on the corpse of one of his poisoned informants?

One day after meeting the young inventor, Kaz had sent Inej to gather answers to the Y/LN Manor. And just as promised, the girl had already identified most of the compounds, but due to "careless and messy manipulation", clearly referring to Kaz's pouch, she had been unable to determine a specific substance that acted as a catalyst. Inej returned to the Slat with Y/N's message asking for a meeting and a request Kaz wasn't exactly expecting.

According to Y/N, it was of the utmost importance for her to examine the body if she hoped to pinpoint the missing compound not to mention it provided a perfect opportunity for Kaz to tell her about how the poison had captured his attention.

Inej had returned later than usual, smiling and carrying a small brown bag that wafted a sweet and delicious scent. When Kaz had raised his eyebrows in question, Inej had told him Y/N had given her some recently baked cookies. He grunted in response and kept working, but his mind kept drifting back to the cookie bag and what that small act meant.

Inej was cautious but he also knew that she always searched for kindness in people. That snack could have been simply just a gift but Kaz wouldn't have made it this far if he considered all people as kind-hearted. Y/N was a stranger, a rich stranger from the highest of ranks of society who probably didn't care if Barrel rats like him lived or not. Y/N hadn't asked for a favor nor did she need money, she just wanted to know, that unsettled Kaz more than he liked to admit.

He had spent the day gathering information about her, her personal life, hobbies, and all the rumors he could find. He had found absolutely nothing that could give him an insight into the girl's intentions, he had finished empty-handed with the information he already knew: she was the only daughter of one of the richest men in Ketterdam, the perfect personification of a wealthy royal daughter, an innocent and pious little thing that went to Church with her family. Kaz scoffed at that, the defying look she gave her at their secret rendezvous accompanied with her enthusiasm for carving a corpse open proved she was far from innocent.

No, until he had more facts he wouldn't let his guard down. And yet, a small part of him yearned for her actions to be good-intentioned. Stop, hope is a dangerous thing. He had already made the mistake of hoping when he was nine and look where it got him.

Kaz returned his gaze to the papers in front of him, huffing in annoyance, he started writing down orders to get a corpse for Y/N.

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Y/N : One day after the meeting

Y/N was quietly sitting at her vanity, a soft smile adorned her face, gaze completely lost on her new device when Inej, soundlessly crept inside her bedroom.

After Kaz Brekker had left the shop near the Church of Barter, she no longer felt the giddy spark she had when she left her manor. She couldn't blame Mr. Zhang for telling Mr. Brekker about their association, he was an old jumpy man who wished no trouble upon no one. She had left all the concoctions that Mr. Zhang had order, but she didn't show him her latest joy, she no longer felt as excited.

This new invention she had come up with consisted of a music box. But it was no ordinary music box, far from it. Y/N had noticed how most of the music boxes got damaged with time when the metal rusted and the music no longer sounded like a melody but more like a haunted house. So, instead of depending on metal to play music, why not use water vapor. Yes, she had spent four days perfecting the pressure at which each piston released the water so it was a perfect copy of one of the melodies in the Komedie Brute. Four days making sure that the amount of heat the flame distributed was enough to transform the water into vapor but not so fast it was gone before the song ended. And now, here it was, a vapor-based music box with a decorative firebird in the center that literally caught fire, warming the water below.

Mind too caught up on the mechanics of her own work, that, when the Wraith materialized from the shadows behind her, Y/N sent a rain of screws and nuts toppling down the floor when Inej's hand landed on her shoulder.

Wide-eyed, Y/N turned around to face the apparition in her room. The Suli girl raised her hands, to show she intended no harm and in a kind voice spoke:

"I'm not here to hurt you. Kaz Brekker sent me to check up on your progress."

With a sigh of relief, Y/N straightened relaxed her posture. "Why, of course, should have assumed Mr. Brekker would send someone. Please, take a seat. " with a small smile, she gestured to a plush burgundy armchair.

"As promised, I have successfully identified most of the compounds. However, I fear identifying the catalyst agent won't be possible unless I conduct a thorough autopsy on the unfortunate victim. The needle I was given was in an atrocious condition, too many foreign compounds had already interacted with it." Y/N answered, finishing with a hopeful tone.

Inej nodded her head and responded, "I'll let Kaz know, thank you Marchioness Y/LN." Inej turned around, making a bee-line for the window.

"You must not be thinking of going out in this beastly weather. Please, stay until this horrendous downpour ceases." Y/N quickly called back, wrapping her silk shawl around her petite frame, as if the thought of stepping outside was enough to send a chill running down her spine.

Inej hesitated, directing a fleeting glance at the crying sky outside, she resumed to her previous seat.

"Would you like a piece of Cinamon-coated Pavlova? I guarantee you won't regret it, the caramelized peaches are sinfully appetizing!" and before the Suli girl could respond, Y/N was rushing out of her room, the dainty patter of her heels clicking down the stairs.

Her room was exactly what Inej had expected: luxurious and overly grand. But there was something about it that Inej couldn't quite place, her room was tidy to the extreme, all the expensive perfume bottles lined up, gaps between that appeared as if they had been measured with a ruler. Nothing in her room showed a preference or indication of what she truly liked, at first sight, the room would have seemed like the perfect fairytale but now, upon close observation, the room looked generic, hollow, and cold. The spy wondered if all the riches were worth living into a life as impersonal as hers.

Y/N returned, carrying a tray full of fancy desserts Inej couldn't even pronounce.

"The baker proclaims himself a master of crème brûlées. I prefer his fruit-stuffed truffles, though. Mouthwatering" Y/N commented, gingerly placing the tray on her small mahogany table.

Y/N waited for Inej to take a bite out of the coffee tiramisu, after the Suli girl let a soft hum of appreciation, Y/N smiled and questioned: "I hope I'm not being too invasive, but how did you manage to climb all the way to my window? There are no nooks where you could have possibly held onto, you must have an incredible balance to perform such a feat."

And that's how Inej told her about her life as an acrobat, proudly sharing brief glimpses to her past, seeing no harm in the girl next to her. Y/N was more than happy when Inej started talking, she was glad the bronzed-skinned girl didn't treat her with timid whispers afraid of offending her royal title. It felt nice to have a normal conversation, being able to share honest opinions instead fake smiles and condescending words at galas, afraid that if the wrong statement slipped they'll become the next party gossip.

____________________

The morning after, Inej returned bearing Mr. Brekker's message agreeing to a nightly meeting where she'll be able to examine the corpse.

Saying that Y/N was thrilled, was an understatement, apart from a chance to put her brain to good use, it gave her the perfect opportunity to try a device she had specifically designed for creating an alibi while she was sneaking outside at unlikely hours.

Y/N hated piano. Don't get her wrong, it wasn't the instrument, it was the music, her music. Because for an unknown reason, her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own whenever she tried to. She admired the focus and dedication of musicians, she really did, but her mind easily got distracted thinking about her latest reading material instead of focusing on the notes. So, she had created a system capable of pushing the tiles as if her own fingers played the music. She knew it was wrong to fool her parents in such a way but it gave her a perfect cover to go in secret missions her parents would never approve of.

Proper ladies don't get excited over knowledge, much less probe in repulsive matters such as corpses. Look at you, Y/N, what would future suitors think if they discover you all cheerful over someone´s murder? The scandal! Zia Francesca's reprimanding voice resonated inside Y/N´s head. But she could care less about what the whole Ketterdam thought about her, science was her passion, and she would abandon it until the day she died.

Already outside, a navy blue scarf wrapped around her head to shield her delicate features against unwanted attention, Y/N waited for Inej at their chosen meeting point.

The sly girl slipped into view, with a grace greater than the one of a feline, leaving the shadows as if she and the night were one. With a brief nod, Y/N followed the girl into the awaiting hands of darkness. Leading her towards the Barrel, a place where monsters lurked behind every corner impatiently waiting to pounce any minute. Nonetheless, Y/N felt ecstatic, warm excitement pulsing through her veins, a river waiting in anticipation to break the thin modest facade she kept up to let her curiosity resurface in search of enigmas to solve.

When they arrived at a place named "The Crow Club", Inej went to get Kaz and some "others" and told her to wait. Y/N observed the lively atmosphere, seeing customers from different countries around the world when her eyes landed on a familiar head with wild red curls.

"Mr. Van Eck?" Y/N questioned in disbelief, the boy perked up at the sound of his last name, locking eyes with the hooded girl.

Never would she have imagined finding Wylan Van Eck down in the Barrel. She was shocked, Wylan supposedly should be in a music school outside of Ketterdam. Both belonging to affluent families, Y/N had met Wylan Van Eck at several parties. She hadn't gotten to know him very well, but she liked the quiet boy who shared the same look of misfortune Y/N had every time they were thrown into a classy social event. When his father had announced he was leaving to study abroad, Y/N was happy for him although she would miss being silently miserable together. But it appeared Wylan had been doing something far from studying, now sitting next to a tall Zemeni boy with his arm slung around his shoulder.

"Marchioness Y/N, I never imagined...W-What brings you here?" replied round-eyed Wylan, confusion, and astonishment written all over his features.

But before Y/N could respond, steps and the tapping of a cane interrupted their little meeting, Inej small silhouette trailing behind Mr. Brekker.

"So, you know Wylan?" he interrogated in that characteristic rasp, coffee eyes scrutinizing Y/N's form.

"Yes, Mr. Van Eck used to come to our social gatherings."

Wylan just nodded shyly while his long-limbed companion kept drowning shot like they were water.

Dirtyhands humphed in acknowledgment "Nice, know that we are all together let's go to...Jesper, I don't pay you to drink the bar dry. Get your ass down here and let's get moving so our dear inventor can examine the body, shall we?

"Wait, she is the contact you talked about?" the Zemeni, Jesper, questioned. Eyes going from Kaz Brekker to Y/N, as if this was some kind of joke.

"Wylan called her Marchioness? You asked for a royal's help?" Jesper asked, an incredulous mocking smile on his face. "Who are you and what have you done with Kaz?"

Mr. Brekker scowled at him and without another word turned around not even waiting for them to follow.

"Well, nice to meet you, my lady. The name's Jesper Fahey," he said, bowing down and kissing her hand, sending her a mischievous wink.

"Very nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Fahey. And please, there's no need for formalities, just call me Y/N." she comforted, as they finally reached the others. Glancing at the rest while finishing her last statement, prompting the rest to call her by her first name.

________

Kaz

Y/N radiated waves of elation, her whole face lighting up at the thought of an adventure, a star amid the tumultuous dark waters of Ketterdam helping him find his way to the shore.

Kaz wore an amused expression at Y/N's amused gaze roaming the dirty streets of the Barrel, a new unknown world full of carnage and sins. She isn't fit for the Barrel thought Kaz, her eyes dancing in amusement at every little detail that caught her interest despite her efforts to put on a serious face and regal posture. She probably saw wonderous adventures while Kaz saw the Barrel for what it really was: a ravenous, savage beast waiting to swallow the weakest whole and drain the lives of the ones who survived its ghastly bites. And somehow the concept that she didn't belong in this world, his world, made Kaz's heart wrenched a little.

During their walk, Kaz shared the details about the latest killer on the loose and his dead informants, all the while, Y/N remained quiet, evaluating every one of his words.

When they arrived at an abandoned building, a single man was stationed outside, leaning on the tainted wall with a tired look in his eyes. Kaz nodded at the guard who gave him a set of keys and trotted out of sight. Kaz guided them inside, careful no prying eyes had followed them. Kaz turned on the lights, briefly disconcerting his companions, and pointed to a table with a big bulk covered by a dirty cloth.

"As you requested, the unfortunate victim" announced Kaz as Y/N placed a small suitcase she'd brought with her forensic equipment and tenderly pried the cloth covering the thing that once had been alive.

Y/N didn't bat an eyelash when she saw the corpse's face, not even when Jesper started gagging or when Inej turned around and started quietly mumbling prayers to her saints. Kaz focused on her face, the calm inquisitive look of a scientist, he had expected a gasp at least. Kaz was impressed by her cool analytical demeanor when a simple glimpse of the man was enough to send Kaz back to the ocean, rotting flesh beneath his fingertips. Kaz shuddered at the thought, forcing down the vomit rising in his throat.

"If you need an assistant, Jesper is willing to help" Kaz stated, stabilizing his voice so it wouldn't show his true feelings.

"What?! Me? Umm..no...I...Helping isn't a Jesper talent." Mr. Fahey said, a fearful look in his eyes, face white as a sheet. Kaz hoped he didn't look as terrified as him.

Y/N stopped her scan, looked up at the two boys, and with a small smile spoke: "I appreciate it, but there's no need. I'm certain I can handle it on my own."

Quickly discarding her coat and scarf, pushing back the sleeves of her rouge-colored blouse, and pulling long laboratory gloves over her hands along with a white apron over her head, she set up to work.

Kaz stared at her features, as she transformed into an eager forensic, light illuminating her face, falling in the right places giving her an otherwordly glow. Rebellious strands of hair framing her forehead, a pink hue staining her cheeks indicating her joyous state. The sight before him would have put any masterpiece to shame, Kaz wondered how she could stare at a corpse and find glee in such a morbid image. But Kaz liked it, the brilliant gleam her eyes portrayed, her childish joy at the promise of adventure.

The spell was broken when she started pulling out scalpels, syringes, and other items Dirtyhands couldn't bother to learn the name of. Pulling the flesh taught beneath her fingers, Y/N made a Y incision, skin splaying open.

Cold lifeless hands gripped Kaz's throat. his brother's icy whispers brushing his skin. He turned his head away and as if perceiving his discomfort, Y/N's bewitching doe eyes stared back at him.

"You can wait outside if you prefer to, I'll notify you when I'm done." her gentle voice reached and Kaz couldn't have been more grateful.

With a sharp shake of his head, Kaz limped towards the exit, Jesper, and Inej quickly following his movements.

--------

After Y/N finished, she eagerly started explaining her findings, a prideful gleam emanating from her.

"Well, Mr. Brekker I must admit this case is a peculiar one. The simplest ones always prove to be the most challenging."

"Here I thought that after years of fancy tea reunions you'd know the meaning of a vast number of words. I'll be sure to buy you a thesaurus." mocked Kaz, a wolfish smirk creeping onto his face.

The inventor frowned at his comment, racing her chin higher, and started her rant, thoughts racing to prove her point.

"Oh no, Mr. Brekker do not confuse simple and easy. Simple is straightforward, plain facts to the observer. Ordinary details are hard to pinpoint, effortlessly found everywhere, which makes it harder to find unique characteristics that could serve as means of identification since their nature is so elementary." Y/N spoke swiftly, pacing around the room, eyes never faltering from Kaz's.

"And that's exactly what happened in this case. As I had mentioned, my extraction wasn't entirely successful, for an essential reactant was missing. However, it wasn't the only reason why I insisted on examining the body, no, a very simple and ordinary substance appeared when I separated the poison: Helianthus annuus or more commonly known as sunflowers." Y/N paused glancing at their surprised faces, clearly pleased with their reactions, she continued, the corners of her lips tugging upwards.

"You can imagine my surprise when I found sunflower pollen as the main component of the poisonous agent. I ran several more tests and the result remains the same, our killer is using these lovely flowers as a weapon. Now, back to the catalyst, the easy part of the equation. This component isn't as fastidious as the previous one, why, you may ask. Well, its vast majority consists of average materials but a small percentage of it contains alloys that are only produced in Ketterdam, that combined with the peculiar way they were fused, suggests a Grisha alkemi made this solution." Y/N concluded, grabbing a piece of paper and hastily writing before she handed it to Kaz.

"There are no signs of struggle, meaning either they knew the attacker or they were taken by surprise. A swift prick to the femoral artery, a clear pathway for the poison to reach the bloodstream, infecting the body within seconds."

"It shouldn't be very hard to find the alkemi. They aren't very popular and most of them are indentured. Here is the list of all the reactants, the specifics, and where I believe you might find them. " finished the girl, looking at the trio expectantly.

"If you don't mind, I have taken a sample to examine more carefully at my house. I'll try to find any details I might have overlooked."

Briskly reading the list, Kaz frowned and then pocketed the small scrap of paper. "First thing tomorrow morning, ask around for an alkemi who might have bought these materials. "

Kaz turned to look at his fellow crows, content with their nods of approval, grabbed his cane, and sauntered towards the door. Her chemistry knowledge was astounding, a marvelous domain of anatomy, and an even more gifted engineer from what he had heard. Hers was an indeed beautiful mind, not that he would ever tell her.

"Mr. Brekker?" her light voice shattered through the gloomy night. Kaz craned his neck, gaping back at her in question.

"Is there perhaps a place where I might be able to tidy myself up?" Y/N questioned, Kaz finally looking at her messy red-stained apron and her exposed arms displaying strokes of red all over them.

Kaz hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should bring the girl back to their home. "You can use the restroom back at the Slat." The girl had risked her reputation sneaking out on ill-advised affairs to help them, it was the least he could do.

"Thank you" Y/N replied as she carefully peeled her apron, attentive at not brushing her arms against her blouse.

___________

Once she had freshened up, Y/N stumbled upon the young Van Eck talking with a couple. The green-eyed girl was about Y/N's age, a generously carved complexion, holding the hand of a tall Fjerdan.

Y/N inclined her head as a form of salute, "I never pegged you for the rebellious type, Mr. Van Eck. I never thought you hated music lessons that much to run away." she told him in a joking tone.

"And I never thought you were the type to sneak out at ungodly hours just to play detective. " Wylan replied, a grin beginning to form on his face.

"Well, I suppose everyone has secrets."

"You must be Y/N, Inej told me you were the help Kaz so desperetly needed. I'm Nina, he's Matthias and well you already know Wylan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Inej had briefly mentioned them, she knew now that Nina loved food, maybe next time she'll bring those exquisite truffles she had so eagerly talked about. If there is a next time Y/N reminded herself, she desperately hoped so, but now that her work was done she wasn't so sure Kaz Brekker would ever seek her again.

"Well, you have saved me the introductions." Kaz sarcastically glowered at the green-eyed girl, Nina kept talking as if she hadn't heard him.

It was one thing for Kaz to admire her intelligence, it did not mean he trusted her, though. Pieces were still missing to the intricate puzzle she was and until that changed Kaz did not like the way she rapidly befriended his crows, her intentions were still blurry to Kaz, and even though he would never admit it he cared deeply about their well-being.

"You should stay a little longer, we could go for waffles as a way of thank you." prompted Nina.

"Your offer is very tempting, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass. I should be returning home." Y/N declined, grinning at Nina, blissful someone had invited her for waffles.

Kaz stared at her and wondered how many times someone had done something similar, not to thank her but rather to use her, so that such a simple gesture put her in a joyful state.

"Scared of what your parents may do if they found out the truth?" Kaz quipped once his crows had left the two of them alone. A teasing tone masking true concern.

"Terrified. Someone may notice I've been playing the same four songs for the last couple of hours, always missing the same notes every time and they might get ideas of checking up on me," she confessed, mischief coating her features.

"Good night, Mr. Brekker. I'm happy I could be of assistance. Please, let me know if you find your killer or if my experience is needed again."

Kaz just bowed, signaling for his Wraith to get Y/N back to her manor in one piece.

Both girls disappeared into the night, leaving Kaz pondering what the hell she had meant with playing the piano.

___________

Y/N

Almost two weeks had passed, no signs of Kaz and no visits from the Wraith, well not that she was aware of. Y/N caught herself glaring at no point in particular, she readjusted her expression and plastered a well-practiced look of keen interest, trying to focus on Lady Stathos' rant about the attractiveness of the Viscount of Chagny.

Y/N politely excused herself, with no intention of making a fool of herself if Lady Stathos posed a question related to her gossip.

Too busy drowning in her own sorrow, knowing that Kaz had probably captured the culprit and was happily celebrating his success and no longer needing Y/N's help, that she stumbled forward, barely catching herself when someone bumped her from behind.

When Y/N turned back around, searching for that someone, she was met with a sight she had only seen once in an abandoned warehouse late at night. One that made her mind scream: Helianthus annuus.

Mercher Dupont's eyes were deranged, veins gruesomely popping and blood spilling from his lips, before toppling in the middle of the dance floor, taking his final breath.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone #imagine #six of crows

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my-random-ocs · 3 years ago

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Rise Up Chapter 1: Percy Blows Up Another Building

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x OC (eventual)

Warnings: Mentions of Percy accidentally blowing up a school, betrayal, angst

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"You know this isn't as bad as you think," I told Annabeth, walking down the street.

"Of course it is!" Annabeth insisted. "It's awful!"

"You're being dramatic. Having feelings for Percy... it's great." Annabeth opened her mouth to protest, but I interrupted. "Look, he's a great guy. And it's obvious he's been in love with you since you nursed him back to health and announced he drooled in his sleep. What's so bad about having feelings for him?"

Annabeth looked down at the ground, kicking a pebble along with her feet. "I just- I feel vulnerable."

"Perfectly natural when you have a crush," I assured her.

She sent me a look. "Says the girl who's never had a crush."

"There was this one boy," I said, casting my eyes downward. I shake my head. "I was also ten and he was one of, like, two friends." The boy I was talking about was one I haven't talked about at camp often- even to Annabeth, though she was my best friend. Doing well in school was fairly uncommon when you're a demigod, what with a large percentage having learning disabilities, and skipping a grade was almost unheard of. I was an exception. I skipped the fourth grade, despite having ADHD and dyslexia. It also didn’t help that I’m on the autism spectrum, and that I had gotten kicked out of two elementary schools before Beacon Hills Elementary. I didn't have very many friends before I got to Camp Half-Blood, but there was this boy who was my best friend, and he always defended me.

“Zia!” Annabeth called, waving a hand in front of my face, breaking me from my thoughts. “Help, please!”

“What do you need help with?” I asked, smiling. “Gods, you’re dramatic! You’re not going to die for having feelings- what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is- I just- what if he doesn’t-” Annabeth stammered.

“The last words out of your mouth better not be ‘what if he doesn’t like me?’ because I will be forced to kick your butt,” I said. “Annabeth, the guy is crazy about you- or was last winter not enough proof of that?” Last winter, Annabeth had gotten kidnapped by a monster and taken to Mount Tamalpais. Percy had just about gone crazy with worry. Annabeth looked at her feet. I nudged her shoulder with mine. “Look, you guys are…” I wave my hand around, looking for the right words. “Meant to be.”

Annabeth snorted. “Oh, yeah, you’re definitely Aphrodite’s daughter.”

“Shut up,” I grinned.

More serious now, Annabeth said, “This is the first time I’ve told anyone. It just- it makes it real.”

I smile softly at her. “Look, whatever happens… you’re going to be okay. Just tell him how you feel. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Annabeth widened her eyes. “He could hear me?”

I laughed, linking my arm through hers and walking faster down the sidewalk toward Percy’s school.

My friend Percy Jackson was recently accepted into Goode High School, the school his mom’s boyfriend teaches English at. I attended Abigail Adams Academy, a K-12 private school near my apartment that I managed to get a scholarship to. I tried to talk him up to the principal there, but they heard Percy’s reputation of getting expelled, and didn’t want to deal with that. Right now, he is at orientation. Why a school held freshman orientation in June, who knows, but he was getting let out in a few minutes. After that, he and Annabeth were going to go to a movie, and that would be my cue to head to Percy’s apartment to visit his mom, Sally. I was meeting my sister and niece there.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed and I pulled it out of the back pocket of my jeans to see a text from my friend Kira. While I was still in the city, I had decided not to wear my camp gear, opting for plain jeans, a long-sleeve gray t-shirt, black converse high tops, and my favorite dark pink hijab. In early June, it was too warm for a jacket.

Hey the text read. Do you want to hang out tonight? Just rented Star Wars

I smiled. Love to. Text you later?

See you

I turn my phone off and put it back in my bag.

“Who was that?” Annabeth asked.

“My friend Kira,” I answered. “We go to school together.”

Just as Annabeth and I arrived at Goode High School, I spotted Percy sprinting down the hill. “Hey, you’re out early!” Annabeth said, clearly excited. She grabbed his shoulders, steadying him. “Watch where you’re going, Seaweed Brain.”

Percy’s appearance was my cue to leave and head to Sally’s apartment. I was about to say goodbye to both of them when a redheaded girl came out. “Percy! Wait up!” She called.

I glanced behind Percy and gasped at the sight of the smoking school in the distance, fire alarms ringing out. “What did you do?” I demanded, my eyes still on the scene.

“And who is this?” Annabeth frowned.

“Rachel Elizabeth Dare,” I realized, recognizing her from last winter.

“Yeah,” she said. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name last year.”

Percy was flustered. “Oh, Rachel- Annabeth and Zia. Guys- Rachel. Um, she’s a friend. I guess.”

“Hi,” Rachel greeted us quickly, then turned back to Percy. “You are in so much trouble. And you still owe me an explanation.

Sirens wailed, getting louder as they made their way up the street.

“Percy,” Annabeth said coldly. “We should go.”

“I want to know more about half-bloods,” Rachel said as if she didn’t hear. I looked at Percy in surprise. He told a mortal about demigods? “And monsters. And then stuff about the gods.” She suddenly grabbed Percy’s arm, took out a marker, and wrote a phone number on his hand. “You’re going to call me and explain, okay? You owe me that. Now get going.”

Percy shook his head. “But-”

“I’ll make up some story,” Rachel insisted. “I’ll tell them it wasn’t your fault. Just go!”

Before anyone could respond, she ran back toward the school, leaving Annabeth, Percy, and I standing on the street.

Annabeth stared at Percy for a moment, then turned and took off down the street without a word.

I offered Percy an encouraging smile, then followed Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy called, jogging after us. “There were these two empousai-”

My heart stopped. “Empousai?” I demanded. I immediately reached for my camp necklace, and to a locket charm that hung there. In the locket was a photo of me, Nisha, and our father before the attack.

Percy nodded reluctantly, knowing that my father was killed by an empousa. “They were cheerleaders, see, and they said camp was going to burn, and-”

“You told a mortal girl about half-bloods?” Annabeth demanded.

I flinched at her tone, suddenly wishing I was anywhere but here.

“She can see through the Mist,” Percy explained.

“She can?” I asked.

Percy nodded. “Yeah. She saw the monsters before I did.”

“So you told her the truth,” Annabeth said.

“She recognized me from Hoover Dam, so-”

“You’ve met her before?”

“We met last winter, when we were looking for you,” I explained. “Percy almost killed her, and she could see the monsters then, too.”

Annabeth’s expression softened only slightly at the mention of her kidnapping. “She’s kind of cute,” she observed.

I looked at Percy, who was slightly confused. Oh, gods, Percy answer faster, please.

“I never thought about it,” he said.

Answer better.

Annabeth just kept walking.

“I’ll deal with the school,” Percy promised. “Honest, it’ll be fine.”

Annabeth wouldn’t look at either of us. “I guess our afternoon is off. We should get you out of here, now that the police will be searching for you.”

I nodded in agreement, fingering my camp necklace nervously as I watched flames billow up from Goode High School. What had Percy said? Camp would burn.

“You’re right,” Percy said. “We have to get to Camp Half-Blood. Now.”

____________

Annabeth was angry the entire cab ride to Long Island.

All Percy managed to get out of her was that she had had a monster-infested spring in San Francisco, and had come back to camp twice. She wouldn’t tell Percy why, but I knew- I had gone to camp for the same reason. We told Percy that neither of us had heard anything about Nico di Angelo, this demigod son of Hades we found last winter. After his sister died, he ran away from Camp Half-Blood, and, despite our best efforts, we have no idea where he is.

“Any word on Luke?” Percy asked.

Annabeth shook her head. The subject of Luke was a pretty touchy topic for Annabeth. He had practically raised her since she was seven, and she always admired him. About two years ago, he had betrayed the camp and joined Kronos, the king of the titans. Last winter, we fought him on Mount Tamalpais, and he somehow survived a fifty-foot drop off a cliff. Annabeth refused to admit it, but I knew that she still believed in him, and wanted him to come home. Me? The jerk betrayed his girlfriend, two young girls he helped raise, and an infant daughter, though he hadn’t known he had a daughter then, not to mention an entire camp who loved and admired him. Annabeth might not have lost faith in him, but I certainly have.

“Mount Tam is still overrun with monsters,” Annabeth said. “I didn’t dare go close, but I don’t think Luke is up there. I think I would know if he was.”

“What about Grover?” I asked, because I hadn’t really heard from him either.

“He’s at camp. We’ll see him today.”

“Did he have any luck with the search for Pan?” Grover had been searching for Pan since he heard the god’s voice last winter, but hasn’t heard anything since.

Annabeth fingered her bead necklace nervously. “You’ll see,” she said vaguely. Percy and I exchanged worried glances.

As we headed through Brooklyn, Percy called his mom with Annabeth’s phone, and I used my own to call my sister to tell her what was happening. Demigods normally try not to use cell phones, since using one is like broadcasting a light up sign saying “EAT ME”, but I knew my sister would be concerned. As understanding as she is about how suddenly I need to go to camp sometimes, she has the tendency to worry.

After that, the rest of the ride was silent. I decided to text Kira quickly, and tell her I wouldn’t make our Star Wars marathon tonight. I turned my phone off without waiting for a reply. Sometimes I wished I was normal. I loved camp, and my friends, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but sometimes, like today, I just wanted to hang out and watch a movie without the fear of monsters attacking or having to ditch them to go to camp because another friend accidentally blew up their school.

Eventually, Annabeth had the cab driver pull over on Farm Road 3.141, the base of Half-Blood Hill.

“Ain’t nothing here, miss,” the driver frowned. “You sure you want out?”

“Yes, please,” Annabeth said, and handed him a wad of cash. The driver decided not to argue.

We hiked up the hill, where the young dragon Peleus was sleeping, coiled around the pine tree. He lifted his head as we approached, and allowed me to scratch under his chin.

“Hi, Peleus,” I said. “Keeping everything safe, baby?”

Last time I saw Peleus, he was about six feet long, and now he was at least twice that, and as thick as the tree. Hanging on a branch was the Golden Fleece, protecting the camp’s magic borders from unwanted visitors, like monsters. Peleus was relaxed, so I knew nothing was wrong.

Camp Half-Blood itself looked peaceful, normal even- as normal as you can get at a camp with monster-infested woods, a climbing wall oozing lava, and real swords.

Still, something felt off. You could feel the tension in the air, as if the whole place was holding its breath, waiting for something bad to happen.

“I need to talk to Clarisse,” Annabeth said as we walked through the valley.

“What for?” Percy asked in surprise. Normally, Annabeth and Clarisse never even got along, much less worked together. But this was important.

“We’ve been working on something. Zia, too,” she answered. “See you later.” She turned to me. “Z, stay with Percy.” I nodded.

“Workin on what?” Percy asked, looking between Annabeth and I.

“I’ll tell Chiron you guys are here,” Annabeth said instead of answering the question. “He’ll want to talk to you before the hearing.”

“What hearing?”

She didn’t answer, jogging toward the Big House without looking back. Percy looked at me.

“We’ll explain later,” I said vaguely.

“Does… does it have something to do with Luke?” He asked tentatively.

I nodded, fingering my camp necklace. “It has everything to do with Luke.”

____________

Eventually, we made our way to the sword arena to train. We walked into the amphitheater, and Percy threw an arm across my stomach, pushing me back. My eyes focused on what he spotted, and my heart stopped. Sitting in the middle of the room, chewing on a combat dummy, was a hellhound.

It hadn’t noticed Percy or I yet, but it would soon.

Percy took out his sword, and charged. “Yaaaaah!” He yelled, bringing the blade down toward the hellhound when someone came out of nowhere and blocked Percy’s strike with a clang.

The hellhound perked up. “WOOF!”

I drew my own sword, ready to jump in, but Percy seemed to be handling it fine.

“Whoa, there!” The man yelled. “Truce!”

“WOOF!” The hellhound barked again.

“That’s a hellhound!” Percy shouted.

“She’s harmless,” the man said. “That’s Mrs. O’Leary.”

“Mrs. O’Leary?” I asked.

At the sound of her name, Mrs. O’Leary barked again, and I realized she wasn’t angry, but excited. She nudged the soggy practice dummy toward the stranger, and he happily took it, saying, “Good girl.” He launched it across the room toward the bleachers. “Get the Greek! Get the Greek!”

Mrs. O’Leary bounded after the dummy and started chewing on its helmet.

The stranger smiled dryly. He looked to be in his fifties, with short gray hair and beard. He was in good shape for a man that age. He wore black pants and a bronze breastplate over a camp t-shirt. I noticed a weird-looking purple blotch on his neck, like a tattoo, but he covered it with his armor before I could ask what it was.

“Mrs. O’Leary is my pet,” he explained. “I couldn’t let you stick a sword in her rump, now, could I? That might have scared her.”

“Who are you, exactly?”

“Quintus,” he said, sticking out his hand. I didn’t shake it, and he pulled it back toward his side. I didn’t love physical contact with people that I am not comfortable around (for example, holding hands and hugging my friends is fine, but Quintus was a stranger). Plus, I was Muslim, and there were certain restrictions for physical contact between a man and a woman, though sometimes I ignored them when it came to my friends.

“Zia Banerjee,” I answered, giving a small wave.

“Percy Jackson,” Percy said, eyeing the hellhound. “Sorry about- How did you, um-”

“Get a hellhound for a pet?” Quintus asked. “Long story, involving many close calls with death and a few giant chew toys. I’m the new sword instructor, by the way. Helping out Chiron while Mr. D. is away.”

“Mr. D. is away?” I asked. Why would Mr. D. leave camp?

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Percy whispered, making me snort.

“Yes, well… busy times,” Quintus answered. “Even Dionysus must help out. He’s gone to visit some old friends. Make sure they’re on the right side. I probably shouldn’t say more than that.”

I slowly stepped toward Mrs. O’Leary while Quintus spoke. Despite the hellhounds I’ve encountered in my life, this one didn’t seem dangerous. Or, she was, but not to me, at least.

She stayed calm as I walked over, happily nudging my hand, clearly wanting pets. I giggled softly as I scratched the top of her head. She sighed. It almost looked like she was smiling.

“Good girl,” I smiled. “You’re such a good girl.”

“She’s very gentle,” Quintus said. “She won’t hurt you.”

“I can tell,” I laughed. “She’s so sweet.”

Suddenly, there was a loud thump. Six very large wooden crates were stacked off to the side, and something was rattling inside. Mrs. O’Leary heard and started toward them.

“Whoa, girl!” Quintus called quickly. “Those aren’t for you.” To distract her, he tossed a large bronze shield for the hellhound like it was a frisbee.

The crates shook. They said something, but I was having a hard time reading the words due to my dyslexia.

“What’s Triple G Ranch?” Percy asked.

“A little surprise,” Quintus said. “Training activity for tomorrow night. You’ll love it.”

Along the bottom, I managed to make out a few sentences- a warning label, in all caps: OPEN WITH CARE. TRIPLE G RANCH IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR PROPERTY DAMAGE, MAIMING, OR EXCRUCIATINGLY PAINFUL DEATHS.

“Sounds awesome,” I said.

Quintus threw the shield again, and Mrs. O’Leary bounded after it. “You young ones need more challenges. They didn’t have camps like this when I was a boy.”

“You- you’re a half-blood?” Percy asked in surprise. I was, too. I’ve never met an adult demigod before. I didn’t think my sister really counted.

Quintus just chuckled. “Some of us do survive into adulthood, you know. Not all of us are the subject of terrible prophecies.”

“You know about my prophecy?”

“I’ve heard a few things.”

I wanted to ask what few things, but then I heard a clip-clop, and I turned to see Chiron step into the arena. “Percy, Zia, there you are! I see you’ve met our new instructor.” Chiron sounded casual, but I could see the uneasiness in his eyes. “Quintus, do you mind if I borrow Zia and Percy?”

“Not at all, Master Chiron.”

“No need to call me ‘Master’,” Chiron said, though he sounded pleased. “Come, both of you. We have much to discuss.”

“Well, see you,” Percy said to Quintus.

“See you later,” I said. I turned to Mrs. O’Leary, smiling and using the same tone I used for my little niece. “And bye, baby girl.”

As we walked away, Percy said to me, “I love how you barely talked to the human at all, but talked to the hellhound like she was Amara.”

I shrugged. “She was adorable,” I countered simply.

He smiled, then turned to Chiron, his expression becoming more serious. “Quintus seems kind of-”

“Mysterious?” Chiron supplied. “Hard to read?”

Percy nodded. “Yeah.”

Chiron nodded. “A very qualified half-blood. Excellent swordsman. I just wish I understood…”

He trailed off, apparently thinking better of saying whatever he was about to say. “First things first, Percy. Annabeth told me you met some empousai.”

“Yeah,” Percy said. He told Chiron about the two empousai he fought at Goode, and how one of them, Kelli, had burst into flames.

“Mm,” Chiron said, considering everything Percy had told us. “The more powerful ones can do that. She did not die, Percy. She simply escaped. It is not good that the she-demons are stirring.”

“What were they doing there?” Percy asked. “Waiting for me?”

You know, High School Musical really gave you unrealistic expectations about high school. Troy and Gabriella weren’t exactly fighting monsters in between musical numbers.

“Possibly,” Chiron frowned.

“It’s amazing you survived,” I said, thinking again of my father. “They’re wonderful at deception. Any male hero would’ve been devoured.”

“I would’ve been,” Percy admitted. “Except for Rachel.”

Chiron nodded. “Ironic to be saved by a mortal, yet we owe her a debt. What the empousa said about an attack on camp- we must speak of this further. But for now, come, we should get to the woods. Grover will want you there.”

“Where?” I asked, gladly taking the change of subject.

“At his formal hearing,” Chiron said grimly. “The Council of Cloven Elders is meeting now to decide his fate.”

____________

Chiron said that we needed to hurry, so Percy and I rode on his back. I thought I knew the woods pretty well after living at camp for four years, but Chiron took us an unfamiliar way. We galloped through a tunnel of old willow trees, past a waterfall, and into a glade blanketed with wildflowers.

Three satyrs were seated on rose bush thrones in a circle, with Grover standing nervously in the middle, telling them a story. I figured that this must be the Council of Cloven Elders.

Standing off to the side was Clarisse and Annabeth, who had an arm around Juniper, a dryad, and Grover’s girlfriend. I had met her once when I came back to camp during the spring for the project me, Clarisse, and Annabeth were working on. I liked her a lot.

“It’s going terribly,” Juniper sniffled.

“No, no,” Annabeth reassured her. “He’ll be fine, Juniper.”

“Grover’s girlfriend,” I whispered in Percy’s ear, and he looked at me in surprise.

“Master Underwood!” One of the council members shouted, interrupting Grover. “Do you seriously expect us to believe this?”

“B-but Silenus,” Grover stammered. “It’s the truth!”

Silenus turned to his colleagues and muttered something. Chiron stepped up to them, and I remembered that he was an honorary member of the council.

“Master Underwood,” Silenus continued, “for six months- six months- we have been hearing these scandalous claims that you heard the wild god Pan speak.”

“But I did!” Grover insisted.

“Impudence!” Exclaimed another elder.

“Now, Maron,” Chiron said in an attempt to calm the group. “Patience.”

“Patience, indeed!” Maron said. “I’ve had it up to my horns with this nonsense. As if the wild god would speak to… to him.”

I raised my eyebrows, ready to go over there and knock the horns off their entitled heads, when Juniper bravely stepped forward, looking like she wanted to beat them up herself. Annabeth and Clarisse held her back.

“Wrong fight, girlie,” Clarisse muttered. “Wait.”

“For six months,” Silenus continued, “we have indulged you, Master Underwood. We let you travel. We allowed you to keep your searcher’s license. We waited for you to bring proof of your preposterous claim. And what have you found in six months of travel?”

“I just need more time,” Grover pleaded.

“Nothing!” The third elder chimed. “You have found nothing.”

“But, Leneus-”

Silenus raised his hand, silencing him. Chiron leaned in and muttered something to the group. The council didn’t look happy, and argued amongst themselves, but Chiron said something else, and Silenus sighed and nodded reluctantly.

“Master Underwood,” Silenus said, “we will give you one more chance.”

Grover brightened, and I smiled. “Thank you!” He said.

“One more week.”

The smile dropped off my face. “What?” Grover exclaimed. “But sir! That’s impossible!”

“One more week, Master Underwood. And then, if you cannot prove your claims, it will be time for you to pursue another career. Something suited to your dramatic talents. Puppet theater, perhaps. Or tap dancing.”

I narrowed my eyes in anger.

“But, sir, I- I can’t lose my searcher’s license,” Grover stammered. “My whole life-”

“This meeting of the council is adjourned,” Silenus interrupted, ignoring Grover. “And now let us enjoy our noonday meal!”

He clapped his hands, and a bunch of nymphs stepped out of the trees with platters of vegetables, fruits, tin cans, and other stuff satyrs liked. While the council ate, Grover walked toward us, dejected.

“Hey, guys,” he said sadly. “That went well, huh?”

“Want me to fight those guys for you?” I asked. “Because they seem to suck, and I will totally fight those guys for you.”

“Those old goats!” Juniper exclaimed. “Oh, Grover, they don’t know how hard you’ve tried!”

“There is another option,” Clarisse said darkly.

“No. No,” Juniper immediately protested, shaking her head. “Grover, I won’t let you.”

His face was ashen. “I- I’ll have to think about it. But we don’t even know where to look.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured him, knowing what Clarisse meant. “We’ll find something.”

“What are you talking about?” Percy asked, confused.

Before anyone could explain, the conch horn sounded.

“I’ll fill you in later, Percy,” Annabeth said. “We’d better get back to our cabins. Inspection is starting.”

____________

I walked quickly toward the Aphrodite cabin, where I was senior counselor- well, half the time, anyway. Since I had been at camp longer than anyone in cabin ten, I was the official head counselor after my sister left. But since I lived away from camp during the school year, my older sister Silena Beauregard took over.

“Hi!” I called, grinning as soon as I saw her. She was straightening her bunk, and overseeing the rest of the cabin cleanup in preparation for cabin inspection in a few minutes.

“Hey!” Silena greeted happily, placing her inspection scroll and pen to the side to hug me. “I thought you weren’t getting here until tomorrow.”

“Little thing with Percy,” I said, pulling away. “It’s fine- I’m happy to be here.” I looked around the cabin. “The place looks great.”

It was true. My siblings were normally neat-freaks, and honestly, so was I, so our cabin always looked nice. I turned back to Silena. “You’re doing a good job.”

For a split second, she looked pained. But when I blinked, she was smiling brightly, so I must have imagined it. “Thanks. Hey, how’s Nisha? And Amara?”

“They’re doing great,” I said. “Amara’s growing like a weed.”

“Hey, Silena?” A timid voice called. I turned to see a young girl with braces and pigtails step hesitantly up to us. “Where are the trash bags kept?”

Silena reached out, grabbing the girl’s hand and pulling her closer to us. “Oh, Lacy, I want you to meet Zia Banerjee, our sister, and senior counselor in the summers. Zia, this is Lacy. She got here a few weeks ago. Mitchell found her on his way to camp.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” I smiled, holding my hand out for Lacy to shake. She shook it, smiling shyly, then turned back to Silena.

“Trash bags are in the bathroom, under the sink,” Silena said. Lacy nodded and scampered off.

“Okay, she’s adorable,” I told my sister.

“I know, right?” She agreed. “Really shy, though. She’s practically imprinted on me, and Mitchell.” Mitchell was one of our half-brothers, and a year younger than me.

I laughed. “Well, we’ll get her out of her shell soon enough,” I said, and Silena laughed.

“I should go,” she said, picking up her scroll and pen. “Inspection is starting. I’ll see you in a little while, for dinner.”

I nodded, and Silena stepped toward the door. “Hey, Silena,” I called, turning to face her before she walked out.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“What do you know about Quintus?”

Her expression darkened. “I don’t know much,” she answered. “But I know his presence probably means something bad is going to happen.”

____________

After inspection was over- cabin ten did very well- I decided to head down to the strawberry fields with my guitar and song notebook. I was a few measures into the song I had been working on when a voice called out from behind me, “Writing a song about me?”

I jumped, stopping my music and turning to see Ethan Nakamura standing behind the bench. I grinned, leaping up and placing my guitar back in its case. “Hi!” I exclaimed happily.

Ethan was one of my best friends at camp besides Percy and Annabeth. He had gotten to camp a few weeks after I had, and I was tasked with showing him around. He was also from California, from San Francisco, and we hit it off immediately. He was a year older than me, and practically my big brother. He was claimed by Nemesis soon after getting to camp, but since Nemesis didn’t have a cabin, he stayed in the Hermes cabin.

We hugged quickly, then did a complicated handshake we came up with a few years ago. No one else knows it.

“How are you?” Ethan asked, both of us sitting down on the bench.

“I’m good, I just got here a few hours ago,” I answered. “I actually just went to Grover’s hearing.”

“How did it go?” At the look on my face, Ethan guessed, “Not good?”

“Not good,” I confirmed. “They gave him one more week before they take his searcher’s license away.”

“One more week?” Ethan asked. “To find a god that’s been missing for thousands of years?” I nodded, and Ethan whistled quietly. “Wow. What’s Grover going to do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Annabeth has been trying to convince him to try something we’ve been working on with Clarisse all spring, but no luck. But if he only has a week, then this might be his only option.”

“What is it?”

I sighed. “I can’t say just yet. Chiron knows, and he asked me, Annabeth, and Clarisse not to share it with anyone.”

“Not even your best friend?” Ethan asked. His offense was probably a joke, but I couldn’t tell.

“No,” I said, nervously fingering my locket charm. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no, I’m just joking,” Ethan assured me quickly. “You don’t have to tell me if you can’t.”

I relaxed, moving my hand back down to my lap.

“Hey, so how’s Nisha and Amara?” Ethan asked, changing the subject.

“They’re good,” I smiled. “You wouldn’t believe how big Amara’s gotten.”

He must have noticed something in my expression, because he asked, “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.” He gave me a look and I sighed. “I just- I’m worried about them. I mean, I know that Nisha is more than capable of protecting herself, and Amara, but- Luke is still out there. And he knows that Amara exists, and I’m just worried he’s going to use her to his advantage or something.”

Once, Luke had said he still had friends at camp, and I had realized he probably had spies here, people who had left camp to join his army. I didn’t think there were any spies at camp now. From them, he found out about Amara, his daughter with my sister. She hadn’t told him about her, worried he would try to use the toddler somehow in the war, but he found out anyway.

“They’ll be fine,” Ethan assured me. “Like you said, Nisha can protect herself, and her daughter. And if something does happen, they can come to camp, and we’ll protect them here. Luke is not going to hurt either of them.”

He shakes his head angrily.

“What?” I asked.

Ethan sighed. “It’s just- I hate that the gods won’t protect them. Amara’s a baby, and do you see Aphrodite or Hermes- her grandparents- coming to help? No. They’re gods; they should be doing something.”

“They can’t,” I said, confused at Ethan’s anger. I knew that sometimes he got annoyed with the gods, especially lately, with the war brewing, but I never knew him to be angry. “They can’t interfere. Besides, it’ll be fine. Like you said, Nisha can protect Amara just fine.”

“Yeah,” Ethan said. “Yeah, I know.” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Anyway, did you meet Quintus yet? What do you think is in those crates for tomorrow night?”

I let him change the subject to camp training sessions, happily talking about Mrs. O’Leary, and what would be served for dinner tonight, and anything else besides Luke and the gods and the war.

But, still, in the back of my mind, I wondered at his tone.

____________

That night, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean I slept well. I entered the dream world pretty quickly.

See, most demigod dreams weren’t like dreams mortals typically had. We could see events happening in the present, in a different place. We could see events that are about to happen.

Or, sometimes, we could travel back into the past.

I was wandering the woods, not wanting to run into any monsters, but just to look for a quiet place to play my music. I was working on a song that I didn’t want anyone to hear just yet. I walked over rocks as stepping stones, balanced on fallen trees, and splashed through ponds. I was lost in thought. I hadn’t realized how far into the woods I had gone until I heard voices.

“… The heck with laurel wreaths,” a voice was saying. It was rough, and familiar- Luke. I slowed down, something telling me to stay quiet and out of sight.

“I’m not going to end up like those dusty trophies in the Big House attic,” Luke continued.

“You make it sound like you’re leaving,” another voice said. Percy.

I quietly set down my guitar case, and peered around a tree to see Luke wearing a twisted smile. “Oh, I’m leaving all right, Percy. I brought you down here to say goodbye.”

He snapped his fingers. A small fire burned a hole in the ground at Percy’s feet, and out crawled a small creature. A scorpion. My eyes widened.

Percy immediately went for his pen, but Luke stopped him. “I wouldn’t,” he said. “Pit scorpions can jump up to fifteen feet. Its stinger can pierce right through your clothes. You’ll be dead in sixty seconds.”

Percy stared, incredulous. “Luke, what-” He paused. “You.”

What?

Luke stood calmly, brushing off his jeans. The scorpion ignored him. It kept its eyes on Percy as it crawled onto his shoe.

“I saw a lot out there in the world, Percy,” Luke said. “Didn’t you feel it- the darkness gathering, the monsters growing stronger? Didn’t you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics, being pawns of the gods. They should’ve been overthrown thousands of years ago, but they’ve hung on, thanks to us half-bloods.”

What was Luke doing?

“Luke…” Percy managed. “You’re talking about our parents.”

Luke laughed. “Is that supposed to make me love them?” He asked. “Their precious ‘Western Civilization’ is a disease, Percy. It’s killing the world. The only way to stop it is to burn it to the ground, start over with something more honest.”

“You’re as crazy as Ares.”

“Ares was a fool,” Luke spat. “He never realized the true master he was serving. If I had time, Percy, I could explain. But I’m afraid you won’t live that long.”

The scorpion crawled onto Percy’s leg.

“Kronos,” Percy said. “That’s who you serve.”

The air seemed to get colder when Percy said that name.

“You should be careful with names,” Luke said.

“Kronos got you to steal the master bolt and the helm,” Percy continued. “He spoke to you in your dreams.”

“He spoke to you, too, Percy. You should’ve listened.”

“He’s brainwashing you, Luke,” Percy insisted.

Luke shook his head. “You’re wrong. He showed me that my talents are being wasted. You know what my quest was two years ago, Percy? My father, Hermes, wanted me to steal a golden apple from the Garden of the Hesperides and return it to Olympus. After all the training I’d done, that was the best he could think up.”

“That’s not an easy quest. Hercules did it.”

“Exactly. What’s the glory in repeating what others have done? All the gods know how to do is replay their past. My heart wasn’t in it. The dragon in the garden gave me this-” he pointed angrily at his scar “-and when I came back, all I got was pity. Even from Nisha. I wanted to pull Olympus down stone by stone right then, but I bided my time. I began to dream of Kronos. He convinced me to steal something worthwhile, something no hero had ever had the courage to take. When we went on that winter-solstice field trip, while Nisha and the others were asleep, I snuck into the throne room and took Zeus’ master bolt right from his chair. Hades’ helm of darkness, too. You wouldn’t believe how easy it was. The Olympians are so arrogant; they never dreamed someone would dare steal from them. Their security is horrible. I was halfway across New Jersey before I heard the storms rumbling, and I knew they’d discovered my theft.”

The scorpion was sitting on Percy’s knee now. I could barely breathe. All of this- it was too much.

“So why didn’t you bring the items to Kronos?” Percy asked, bringing me back.

“I… I got overconfident,” Luke admitted. “Zeus sent out his sons and daughters to find the stolen bolt- Artemis, Apollo, my father, Hermes. But it was Ares who caught me. I could have beaten him, but I wasn’t careful enough. He disarmed me, took the items of power, threatened to return them to Olympus and burn me alive. Then Kronos’ voice came to me and told me what to say. I put the idea in Ares’ head about a great war between the gods. I said all he had to do was hide the items away for a while and watch the others fight. Ares got a wicked gleam in his eyes. I knew he was hooked. He let me go, and I returned to Olympus before anyone had noticed my absence.” He drew his sword- but it wasn’t his sword. This one was different, one side celestial bronze, the other steel. Why did he get a new sword? “Afterward, the Lord of the Titans… h-he punished me with nightmares. I swore not to fail again. Back at Camp Half-Blood, in my dreams, I was told that a second hero would arrive, one who could be tricked into taking the bolt and the helm the rest of the way- from Ares down to Tartarus.”

“You summoned the hellhound, that night in the forest,” Percy realized.

“We had to make Chiron think the camp wasn’t safe for you, so he would start you on your quest,” Luke confirmed. “We had to confirm his fears that Hades was after you. And it worked.”

“The flying shoes were cursed,” Percy said. “They were supposed to drag me and the backpack into Tartarus.”

“And they would have, if you’d been wearing them. But you gave them to the satyr, which wasn’t part of the plan. Grover messes up everything he touches. He even confused the curse.”

My mind was reeling, trying to process everything Luke was saying. What had happened to my big brother?

Luke looked down at the scorpion, which was now on Percy’s thigh. “You should have died in Tartarus, Percy. But don’t worry. I’ll leave you with my little friend to set things right.”

“Thalia gave her life to save you!” Percy said. “And this is how you repay her?”

“Don’t speak of Thalia!” Luke shouted. “The gods let her die! That’s one of the many things they will pay for. I remember seeing Nisha after that empousa killed her father. She was devastated, but she had to be strong. Zia… she was wrecked, and Nisha was forced to step up and raise her. The girls were destroyed, and Aphrodite, their mother, wasn't there for either one. She should have been.”

That was the breaking point. I drew my sword, stepping out from behind the trees. “What are you doing?” I demanded, drawing both Luke and Percy’s attention. My eyes were on Luke as I tried to keep my voice from shaking. “What- you made us go through- I- I trusted you!” I couldn’t stop stammering, my mind going a mile a minute. “I loved you- Nisha loved you. You were my hero!” I shook my head. “Why?”

“You wouldn’t understand, Zia,” Luke said. “You have enough trouble understanding the little details, let alone the big picture, of anything you encounter. I don’t expect you to understand my reasons.”

My eyes stung. Never- not once- has Luke ever spoken to me like that. He had been dating Nisha for two years before we met, and he immediately took me under his wing. With my autism, I always had to try hard to come across as socially competent. My jokes tended to land wrong, I had a difficult time registering social cues, and I info-dumped a lot. But Luke never cared about any of that. He helped Nisha raise me since the moment I got to camp. I couldn’t believe he would use that to insult me now.

“What has your mother ever done for you, Zia?” Luke continued. “Kronos will rise. You two have only delayed his plans. He will cast the Olympians into Tartarus and drive humanity back to their caves. All except the strongest- the ones who serve him.”

“You won’t get away with this,” I vowed, forcing my voice to be stronger.

Luke tilted his head, smirking. “Oh, Zia. I already have. Good-bye, both of you. There is a new Golden Age coming. You won’t be part of it. I would ask you to tell Nisha good-bye for me, but neither of you will be able to make it back to camp.”

He slashed his sword in an arc and disappeared in a ripple of darkness.

The scorpion lunged at Percy. I jerked forward instinctively, and swatted it away from him with my hand. Percy uncapped his sword and swung at the scorpion as it jumped at me, cutting it in half in midair.

I thought that everything was fine until I looked down at my hand. The back of it, where I had hit the scorpion, had a huge red welt, oozing and smoking yellow. The thing had gotten me.

My ears pounded. My vision went foggy. I stumbled, almost collapsed. I barely registered arms around me, holding me up, someone calling my name.

My vision was getting dark.

‘Sixty seconds’ Luke had said.

I had to get to camp. Percy was holding me, shouting for help, dragging me toward camp.

I felt something wrap their hands around my arms, removing me from Percy’s, tugging me toward camp.

I made it to the clearing, where I recognized my sister’s face, her screaming, a centaur blowing a conch horn.

Then everything went black.

____________

I bolted upright in bed, breathing hard. I was sweaty. I felt something wet on my face, and I reached up and realized I was crying. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Four in the morning.

Everyone in the Aphrodite cabin was sleeping. The girl on the top bunk above me, Emily, was snoring lightly. The new girl, Lacy, turned over in her sleep.

I looked down at my hand. I couldn’t see it in the dark, but there was a scar there, from that scorpion. Even the ambrosia and nectar the Apollo cabin gave me couldn’t heal the scar, a vivid reminder of that horrible day.

I remembered how much I missed Luke in the days after his betrayal. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but I did. Before that day, I had a big brother. I was sure of my place in the world, I was happy.

Now, everything was so uncertain, and I didn’t have a clue what to do about it.

#rise up #zia banerjee #teen wolf #teen wolf oc #pjo #pjo ocs

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thethreemages · 5 years ago

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Neeeew batch of boys coming in to join my Three Mages cast~! Took me a bit to finally get them all down but I’m glad I pushed myself to complete their looks and bios! :D Hope you all enjoy!

More info about their characters can be found below~

-Antoyn is Fevrier Ballastine's robotic butler companion, and joins his young master in acting as a protective bodyguard back in St. Ravilda's. Created and commissioned around the same time as Fevrier's accident by the boy's parents to give their son some better protection, Antoyn started off as just your average subservient android with a variety of talents to both entertain and nurture the then-younger Fevrier. But then... a few years down the line there was an incident where Fevrier's mother accidentally released a soul of a deceased Bard from one of her jarred collections (a common practice of hers as a Necromancy mage)... and the soul ended up embeding itself deep within Antoyn's body. While Fevrier's parents at first wanted to get rid of this soul from the robot... little Fevrier remained insistent on letting his best friend keep it since he saw how much it made Antoyn "happy" to get a moving, working body again. So, after some consideration they decided to respect their son's wish and modify Antoyn even moreso to let him feel at least somewhat more "human". And now, several upgrades later Antoyn is more than just a dedicated butler... but also a wise, collected, and pretty snarky mentor figure to the now brattier Fevrier. When he's not spending his days at his master's side trying to make sure he doesn't get into trouble... he also likes to practice a variety of other hobbies like fencing, puzzle-solving, sprucing up on his lute-playing again, studying up on all the recent historic events that he missed in his deceased years, and occasionally trying to smooth-talk some of the "charming" single-mothers he comes across here and there... to his master's embarrassment. -Zephyr Platyna is among one of the newer students of St. Ravilda's, joining in the same year as Zia, Noira, Frevier and Mila. Being a universe traveler, he often comes between both Clock Diamond; his actual home, and Graystone (the main setting of "Three Mages"). His gothic-like appearance may give him the impression like he's a villainous rebel type, but in actuality he wants to change that perspective for the better ("Heroes can be Goth too" being his main motto whenever the subject's brought up to him). He's one of the rare specialty mages to hone more than one element, being both metal and ice (creating some pretty "wicked" magic displays whenever he's asked to give demonstrations during class). Though some teachers wondered if this could be too much to handle since it's not very common for them to get dual-magical mages like that (let alone who dressed so "scarily", in Professor Barnaby's words)... Headmaster Auran (who was usually accepting of all students) and Professor Devonna (being a fellow goth mage herself) urged the others to give Zephyr a chance once they saw how much the boy wanted to use his powers for good. During school hours, Fevrier has formed a bit of a rivalry with Zephyr... both in the field of mastering metal magic (and Mila's eye of affection), which seems to be more to Zephyr's favor as the elven boy is not only more "courteous" of his magic, but also more genuinely considerate of Mila's timid tendencies since the two of them met on his first day at school. Sensing how lonely she was from most others, he offered to be her friend and steadily they've seem to lean more to "deeper" levels for how protective and caring he is towards her. Even Zia and Noira seem to want to nudge Mila into asking out the boy... but combined with Mila's shyness + the Zephyr & Fevrier rivalry, it's bound to not be an easy task as the school year goes on. -Kalybir Shelrovet (also known as "Kaz") is a former student of St. Ravilda's who was once the main leader of the "A-Lister" group there. The sole heir to a mana stone mining/jewelry-making company called "Shelrovet Dreams", Kaz grew up to carry a big ego and a haughty attitude towards most of his peers... even Prince Kain and Prince Elas weren't really safe from his showboating since every student at Ravilda's was treated equally regardless of their backgrounds. Things got especially tense with Kaz and Kain in particular since the latter was also pretty full of himself too... leading to them establishing themselves as "sworn enemies" for quite a few years (in one instance, a big magic fight between them lead to Kaz losing one of his teeth, now replaced as a shiny gold one). Towards other students, Kaz didn't change much of his attitude around them either... any number of "friends" that he did have seemed to most likely only hang out with him for his money. The only one that stood out from this was Ana White... an equally haughty popular girl who often had an off-again/on-again relationship with Kaz up until things went quiet between them post-graduation. There might still be some signs of some "lingering flames" between them though... given how Ana tends to get so blushy and surprisingly docile/flustered upon hearing his name. In terms of magic, Kaz controls the power of a "Poison Mage"... giving him abilities of producing acidic liquid blasts to melt through obstacles, stinging his foes back with illness/burns, and/or trapping them in place via-melting the ground to quick sand-like levels. -Hoagen Blanchard (likes to be called "Zeppelin" as a stage name) is the son of St. Ravilda's teacher Ms. Blanchard, younger brother of Beau (who's part of the King's Elite squadron) and a current member of Argent's underground metal band. Though for many years he was known for being a dorky, kinda clumsy nerd... following around the time of his father's passing, he felt more inclined towards the gothic subgenre (specifically for himself, as a "steampunk" goth) to start hanging out more with the likes of Argent. Granted, he's still generally pretty dorky but nowadays he likes to play himself more "confidently" when it comes to the stage... trying to nudge for Argent to be more sociable now and then (though it doesn't always work) as well as being pretty friendly and open to their current fan following. On his off-time, Hoagen likes to partake in hobbies such as comic collecting, sprucing up on some his favorite action movies, trying his best to hide his not-so-secret "crush" on a certain traveling singer while failing each time she gets brought up, and also just generally sprucing up more and more of his goth look to be "cooler". As he used to go to St. Ravilda's, Hoagen's main magical skill involves controlling the power of a "Storm Mage"... being able to create thunderous lightning clouds to engulf his foes as he wishes. Though for Hoagen, this type of magic is generally kind of dangerous to get a hold of... so he tends to just limit it to some cool "stormy" effects for the bands' stage performances.

#My OCs #My Art #the three mages

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bhadbun · 5 years ago

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EXPOSE posts are truly stupid but I guess at some point we become the things we swore to destroy. there's someone who has terrorized some of my closest friends, and at this point, I'm done and I'm over it. so here is the story of some 23-year-old scab named saige, from the CST timezone, who needs to grow up. i do however want to say that while this person is 1) in multiple active rps that will be tagged in this, that this is no way shape of form is an attack on those rps. we’ve all been victims of bad members joining groups and giving those groups a bad name. to those admins i say; take this in stride. do what you need to do respectively about saige and keep your heads high for your current members, and to members - do with that information as you wish and be careful. now under the cut you can find out all the stuff thats gone down (both the recent stuff and some of the stuff in the past.) Please feel free to message me or even Reblog this with your own interactions with Saige.

Saige at some point has referred to them-self as they/them so we will be doing the same. some screenshots included in this may refer to them as she/her though due to people being close with them at the time.

a list of muses that saige has played.

INDIE SMUT TWITTER RP - @BENJIZDUNN [NSFW]

INDIE TUMBLR ACCOUNT - @ofwriitings

machine gun kelly fc (key) in @saintshotelhqs

dua lipa fc (xena) in ardorhq

matt champion fc (marsden “mars”) in ardorhq

matt champion fc (marsden “mars”) in @laxhq

miley cyrus fc (bexley) in @laxhq

baldboyblues fc (blaise) in hqyale

amanda arcuri fc (zinny) in laxhq

kensnation (rhys) in laxhq

jade thirlwall fc (farai) in cyberhqs

dua lipa fc (zia) in cyberhqs

isabella peschardt fc (yakira) in cyberhqs

kurtis conner fc (zero) in cyberhqs

george shelly fc (echo) in cyberhqs

matty healy fc (cyrus) in cyberhqs

avan jogia fc (zion) in cyberhqs

big sean fc (deandre) in cyberhqs

nicholas kalashnikov fc (matias) in cyberhqs

UPDATE. there was a muse in lax, yale & now rushing who goes by rowan, previously had a matt champion fc and uses the role model tucker pillsbury. this IS NOT SAIGE. We would like to apologize to this person if they received any backlash.

For context, I was an admin in an RP called CyberHQ. There i played Cindy Kimberly, and I was friends with Saige during this time. The majority of screenshots take place between December 2018 and January 2019. CyberHQ had its faults, and I can acknowledge that. My best friend co-ran the rp with me, and I want to give her a quick little s/o for carrying Cyber when I dropped the ball. The biggest ball I dropped was allowing Saige to consistently harass and belittle my co-admin. There were multiple red flags that should have tipped me off about Saige. I dont have screenshots of ALL the times we called out their behavior but I do have this one;

After getting numerous complaints from other members about the consistent graphic NSFW images and videos that were popping up on the TL we finally decided to speak to them about it. Their response was rude, and clearly, they did not care about other members or the potential of minors seeing what they were bringing onto our TL.

fast forward to January 30th - Feb 5th the height of what can be considered as Cyber’s biggeest SCANDAL was going on. Our dear friend Saige was caught playing an estimate of TEN muses. the muse limit we had at the time THREE. and while on the surface that might seem harmless because yk these are just muses - the truth is that they did all of this by joining in under different aliases. they created different personas and spoke to other muns as other people. We have one verified testimony (that’ll you’ll be able to read later) who says that Saige and their multiple ‘friends’ were the ONLY people she rped with for a solid month. our members that were the closest with them all admitted to feeling manipulated and lied to - saying that their muses were read a certain direction so that saige could get the ships they wanted. their connections were so intricate and vast that when they were exposed and sub-sequentially kicked out, half of the rp didn’t have connections anymore, a system that designed to fail.

When they first caught wind about TWO of her secret characters we spoke to them in a imessage group chat;

* kae helped blur out certain images and names for this post, occasionally you’ll see texts within an imagine expressing her own feelings about the matter

wondering how we found out about their other characters? they sent a long message to two other members of CyberHQs confessing. Those two members sent us the screenshot and that lead to them getting kicked out.

now see that last name; matias, that a very important one we’re gonna touch on next. another one of our members (Gem) was lied to. even after saige was exposed for having all of those characters, they continuously lied to Gem and pretended they were someone else. while Gem no longer has access to the screenshots of saige pretending to be a whole other person - we were able to get our hands on saige apologizing for it.

here is another screenshot of saige lying to gem about playing Zero

here are screenshots of saige rping with themself to keep up the front:

here are dms saige sent them-self roleplaying with themselves:

i asked Gem to please write her own little testimony about what happened with saige and how it made her feel.

Gem is just one of the many people saige messed with. I have two more testimonies about saige. the next person up had what i consider to be the wildest ride with saige, and maybe the most affected during cyber. i bring you to: Kae.

The first group of screenshots is of saige manipulating kae because kae wanted to drop a character. this was in a group chat the three of us had. this conversation went down december 23rd, 2018.

this was tough and hard to sit in on, but kae did eventually end up dropping hendrix. though this wouldn’t be the last time saige tried to manipulate kae.

now between the last two tests above these dms happened:

“....ive been hardcore neglecting farai...”

“...i’ll stop messaging you places...”

we also have found out that saige has been using kae’s last name as a first name for one of their characters:

* kae helped blur out certain images and names for this post, occasionally you’ll see texts within an imagine expressing her own feelings about the matter.

now we’re gonna get into something a little more recent, saige and their character stalking @hiqey’s character in yale. first, we’re gonna explore saige’s perspective of the situation before going into hiqey’s thoughts on the matter.

upon making the decision to write this expose one of the first people i set out to speak to was hiqey, as she is one of the most recent people affected by saige. here is what she had to say:

here is the link to hiqey’s post on the subject: https://hiqey.tumblr.com/post/188666887727/so-from-your-pov-what-happened-cause-you-barely

here is saige acknowledging they were wrong for what happened in cyber and in yale but not thinking it was a big deal:

To kinda end this on a positive spin, I want to link you all to a letter Kae wrote to Saige. I really hope you all read and get a feel for the mental turmoil my friend went through because of this person, all that she suffered, and all she kept inside during all this time. kae didn’t deserve this, gem didnt deserve this. my co-admin during cyber didn’t deserve the treatment she got. HIQEY didnt deserve this. no one does. we’re hoping that with this expose post the cycle ends and saige can not continue to treat and manipulate people to this extreme. please i beg each and everyone of you - READ KAE’S LETTER.

READ KAE’S LETTER HERE: https://docs.google.com/document/d/17VS8KywZFYUM8GsYTPw9M_NtIy1FGUOTxc-c2LSDq4o/edit

GOOGLE DOC WITH ALL THE SCREENSHOTS: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1VKZlTGGkWJ-PA8sBJXDrwNGRT1_XPO7n?usp=sharing

Someone made a post discussing the similiarities between Saige and Nettie, read that here: https://hotjoong.tumblr.com/post/189074475629/hewwo-rpcon-the-drama-from-tonight-regarding

#RPC #RPH #TWITTER RP #OC RP #RPT

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ninaahelvar · 6 years ago

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Paw Prints

Summary: Owen owns the local animal shelter and trains service dogs. Claire volunteers there for a nice line on her resume. Everyone teases Owen about his obvious attraction towards her. The thing he doesn’t realise - the feelings aren’t one sided.

AO3

A/N: This was a prompt from an anon! I adored it so much! thank you to whoever sent it in! hope i did it justice! xx

“She’s hot, right?”

“What?” Owen said, realising he was staring. Claire sat at the front desk, her pen between two fingers as she balanced it back and forth, some lawyer talking to her with his fancy suit and perfect grin. Owen rolled his eyes when the guy laughed and Claire forced a smile. Lowery nudged Owen again.

“You know, the love of your life? Claire?”

“Shut up,” Owen shoved Lowery, who laughed and took Echo to the next room to go for outdoor training. She was a calm blue heeler who followed her commands, but liked to play a lot. Rex barked as she followed Lowery and Echo, her head held high as she walked briskly towards the sliding backdoor.

Claire worked the front desk occasionally, something about how she needed volunteer work on her resume. She was a young hotshot lawyer straight out of law school and said she liked what they were doing for veterans. Her father served once, and had required a service dog on his return. It seemed to be close to her heart, and Owen agreed to let her on - though he had tried to pay her for her work, she requested that it all be put on as volunteer stuff. He had a few paychecks to give her when she decided she no longer needed the position.

Without fail, however, every day lawyers from her classes or ones that she knew came by to give her coffee or talk to her for longer than Owen liked. They had one thing in common. God he hated pretty boys. He knew he was jealous - of their easy grins and floofy hair and the way they seemed to talk so effortlessly with her. But comparing himself was a new low. Maybe she liked pretty boys, like the ones that always came to visit. Instead, Owen was sitting there with his ex-marine status and ptsd to match the war wounds, and hairy as bigfoot.

He was training Charlie that day and, the beautiful black labrador came trotting up behind Owen as he guided her to her spot. As the other dogs got to relax and unwind outside, Owen had his own pup - Blue - sitting nearby as Lowery and Barry came to the training exercise. For some vets, crowded or tight spaces were triggers; and admittedly it was one of Owen’s, but it allowed them a unique opportunity to help the dogs understand a real event. As they walked the length of the animal shelter, Lowery and Barry came up beside Owen, their shoulders touching and pushing him into an uncomfortable position. Owen could feel his heart rate increasing, and as Charlie saw, she immediately got in between Owen and Lowery, and the same to Barry, giving Owen as much space as he needed.

The two other trainers looked cautiously at Owen before nodding and giving a treat to Charlie for her good behaviour. But Owen’s mind hadn’t kicked out of gear, reeling and charged with energy he wasn’t able to omit. And then, his head raced with flashes of memories, the realness of it all making his hands shake and he was having a full fledged attack that he couldn’t control.

Bomb. Drop.

Explosion.

Fire.

Flash.

Screaming.

Calls of his name.

Flash.

Crushing.

Legs feeling numb.

Flash.

Owen felt Blue jumping up at him and he collapsed down to his knees, the two dogs whimpering as he settled him against the wall, guiding him down and licking at his face. Charlie had already been trained in this exercise, but had never truly achieved what Blue had. Blue rested her head in Owen’s lap as he began breathing in long deep breaths. Charlie occasionally licked Owen’s hand, staying as close as she could on Owen’s other side.

It was calm, having Blue by his side. After his final deployment, he was exhausted and he knew the dreams he was having were signs of ptsd. The moment he could, he got therapy, he had his service dog - Blue - and he was having less attacks because of her around. The attacks less severe and less frequent, but he still had them bearing down on him. When he heard the owner of the local veteran animal shelter was selling, he knew he had to get in on it.

Although he knew very little of taking care of a business like this, he was good at training animals from his time abroad and when his friends all heard, they wanted to jump on board too. Zara and Zia were two vets who volunteered at the clinic for check ups on the service dogs, whilst Lowery trained animals for a living, Barry was just a lucky break when he had no job after serving and was great with training the dogs for stealth units. Franklin kept their business together - though he was terrible around the dogs, he managed to work with Claire on the books and keep away from the animals for most of the time. When they housed cats for a short time, Franklin would steal away to their section before leaving in sneezing fits.

Hated dogs, and was allergic to cats.

“Are you okay?” A voice asked and Owen looked up - his mind racing and in his own world.

“Huh?” He asked before realising Claire was bending down to his level, hand cautiously touching his knee.

“You’ve been in the corner for a little while with Blue and Charlie,” she said, and Owen felt his heart rate had definitely gone down and the dogs had calmed down along with him.

“Oh, uh…” Owen said, shifting to make the dogs get a little excited. Owen cleared his throat. “The exercise is a hard one for me. We usually do it to trigger for the dogs to see how they react. Blue is usually close by in case they can’t,” he explained, realising the mistakes of his exercise - and although it wasn’t always like this, it could be a possibility.

“You shouldn’t purposely trigger yourself,” Claire said, patting his knee gently.

“Yeah, we know, but it’s good that they experience what a real attack is like,” he said, feeling his heart rate go a little haywire. Charlie soon began licking his face, leaning her head on his thigh to indicate to him to calm down.

“Do you want me to bring you anything?” she asked.

“I think I’ll be fine,” he said, patting at the dogs’ heads. “Thanks anyway,” he smiled.

“Shout if you need me,” Claire said, rising from her crouching position to walk back to her desk, turning and smiling at him as he let his head rest against the wall. It was only a few minutes later when Owen stood and went back to work, maintaining a level head throughout the day.

It was a well known fact around the shelter that Owen was completely in love with Claire. He couldn’t help it - she was strong, smart, and never let anyone get to her. The minute she was hired, everyone made fun of Owen, how he listened to her and the way he watched her walk away all the time. He was a mess and the whole shelter had begged Owen to ask her out. Something that Owen was still struggling with…

It was hard; trying to get the courage to approach her. He’d tried - so many times he’d called her name, only to be dazed by her perfume. Or he’d walk up to her desk, plans for coffee already flying off his tongue, and she’d smile up at him and he’d choke on the sentence at the back of his throat. Finding the words was always difficult around her - in a way it had never been with anyone else. He could charm just about any woman to come home with him, take them to bed and show them a good time - and the one time he needed his charm to work, he became a bumbling mess of a man, unable to find his limbs and the giddiness erupting like a teenage boy.

Which was why, when he ran into her on a sunny Thursday, he found himself with a barking dog, a coffee stained dress shirt, and a vow to never even bother asking again. Claire had done a girlish laugh, patted his shoulder, and the courage that he could have had was now deeper than the dogshit he had to pick up later that same day.

From that day on, it became pining looks that were never inconspicuous, and daydreams that were lost to the mess of his ptsd mind.

*~*~*

Rex was a largest dog he’d ever trained, a giant caucasian ovcharka. When her owner had passed away, she had no real home to go to, so she acted as the shelters carer - but went home with Blue and Owen at the end of the day. Blue had recently had a bath, and was running around outside in the sun, as Rex relaxed inside with Owen underneath the air conditioning, following the airflow. Rex barked at Owen when he got in her way, but she wagged her tail anyway.

Claire walked in with one of the regular douchebag lawyers on her heels - Eli Mills. He wore his suits like he was the richest man in the world, but they were cheap and tacky - just like Eli, it seemed. Claire, on the other hand, wasn’t going into her firm just yet; she was only a researcher, so didn’t have cases to work. Graceful as ever, Claire wore the pastel blue summer dress, wrapped around her like she was a gift, and her hair pulled up off of her neck.

So yeah, Owen was staring.

Very obviously staring.

Rex barked, but Owen just patted her head, pretending to guide her in a circle as he still watched as Claire went over her notes and tried to hold a conversation with a wooden door.

“Yes, Owen, I do love you. None of the other men matter, only you,” Lowery whispered in Owen’s ear, and Owen shoved the shortstack aside, even though Lowery’s fits of laughter made Owen smile.

“Come here, asshat,” Owen cursed, chasing Lowery around, Rex racing after them and bellowing out howls, tailing going nuts as she jumped around. She was a dominant force, pushing them around and they both chuckled as it became a battle between the men and the beast.

“It’s a little unprofessional to just beat up an employee, don’t you think?” Eli called out and the pair looked at each and scoffed, Rex still jumping around.

“Rex, down,” Owen whistled sharply, and Rex stopped barking and stood her ground, staring at Owen as he made full eye contact with Eli, “heal,” he said, Rex meeting at Owen’s side. “Beg,” he ordered, “assert,” he said, Rex moving around Owen, barking before standing in front of him and giving three barks, equal distance apart as she sat in front of him. Owen smiled, kneeling down and patting Rex’s head, handing over a treat, which she gladly took. “Good girl,” he praised. “I’m a good trainer. If I’m good at my job, I get to fuck around,” Owen said,

“You should be concerned that veterans come here and get shitty dogs,” Eli commented, just as an old army buddy came through the front doors and Owen beamed, hollering to him.

“Sempa Fi!” Reaper called. Owen saluted the man.

“Hey Reaper! I have Charlie ready for some training,” Owen said, hugging Michael - nicknamed Reaper - arm over his shoulder as he took him to the back rooms with the other dogs.

“Owen is a veteran. I think respect should be shown to a guy that’s seen more shit than you have,” Claire replied, and Eli said something in a hushed voice to Claire. Owen smiled to Claire as he continued on.

“Rex,” Owen called, whistling again and the giant dog walked quickly behind Owen as he showed the fellow veteran Charlie and guided him through commands.

*~*~*

Owen was watching Barry as he guided Delta, an eager German Shepherd, through her basic runs as a seeing eye dog. She was very talented and could be very focused on her job. The two trainers made some remarks to one another, noting some small things she could improve on, getting her to go through the exercise a few more times with praise coming from every successful run. It wasn’t long before Owen became a little distracted by the redhead by the door.

It was the staring.

The staring always made him a little fumbly.

Because when Claire looked up at him, Owen’s attention went down to his shoes when he should have refocused on Barry and Delta.

Owen had no game whatsoever.

He crossed his arms, and felt his palms get sweaty as she walked over, the outfit of the day was a suit that made Owen’s mouth a little dry.

“I have to grab coffee today, I was wondering if you wanted to join me?” she explained, and all Owen’s mind did was focus on the word - I have to - because she was meeting Eli. She was meeting with Eli again and Owen would have to watch him try and flirt with her yet again, and his jealousy was a raging creature. He lost to it every time. Owen cleared his throat.

“Oh, I don’t want to get in the way, you go on,” he said, noticing the slight shock on her face - an unexpected response?

“Oh, okay, uh, see you later?” she asked and Owen nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling at her weakly before she moved towards the doors. Owen watched as she left, mentally beating the shit out of himself for being the absolute worst

“Owen,” Barry said, meeting Owen at his side.

“Yeah?”

“You’re a dumbass,” Barry said, and Owen looked over at his friend.

“Why?”

“She was asking you out, you complete idiot,” he said, smacking at Owen’s shoulder. Owen’s eyes narrowed - she wasn’t asking him out, that’d be stupid. She didn’t like guys like him; he wasn’t like the guys she was surrounded by. He was different and rough and serly compared to the lawyers that fawn at her feet.

“I can fire you, you know?” Owen snapped, and Barry clicked his tongue.

“Do it, I dare you,” he replied.

“Rex, chase,” Owen called, Rex bounding from her sitting position and springing up to Barry who tried to control Rex and Delta, as the two dogs set each other off - overstimulation was bad for service dogs.

“Hey!” Barry called out in a laugh and Owen whistled.

“Okay, Rex, heel,” he called, and Rex came back to him, waiting for her next task and he gave a small clicking sound before she circled to her spot and sat down.

*~*~*

Owen had Rex staying at the shelter as he did some errands with Blue. He had bangs hanging from his wrists, wandering around corners trying to find a cafe that may be service dog friendly when a voice called out in the crowd. “Hey you!” Owen looked forward, finding Claire waving at him delicately. Blue barked, wagging her tail and moving eagerly next to Owen.

“Oh, hi!” he replied, smiling to Claire. Though, his smile shifted when he saw Eli.

“Claire, we have to -” he tried to say before she waved him off.

“You go on ahead,” she said. Owen looked between the pair before trying to whisper to Claire.

“I don’t want to hold you up,” he said, but Claire ignored the question, bending down to Blue who sat patiently by Owen’s side. She didn’t interact with Blue, just waving and smiling.

“Are you going for a coffee?” she asked, and there was a small dart of her hand that was clear that she wanted to pat Blue more than she’d care to admit. Owen hid his smile.

“Ah, yeah, but -”

“Come on, I’ll buy,” she said, seemingly ignoring his efforts to stop interrupting her day. She willingly became a part of his day, it seemed.

“You don’t have to d-”

“Claire!” Eli called out, but Claire just waved over her shoulder.

“Go ahead, Eli! I’ll be right there!” she said, arm still hooked with Owen’s as she walked them to a cafe nearby.

Owen was always nervous about taking Blue to cafes or restaurants - many didn’t accommodate an animal inside, or they didn’t known if they had a certain policy against animals. Instead, it seemed, Owen was willing to follow Claire, trusting her instincts rather than his own. Walking inside, people eyed the dog with the vest on the minute they walked in. Blue stayed focused on Owen’s side as the pair walked up the counter.

The barista looked at Owen and Blue, their brow furrowing as they stammered for words. “We don’t -”

“Service dog,” Claire interrupted, “can I grab regular caramel latte,” she ordered quickly with no hesitation. Owen was still unsure but she soon looked at him with a curious tilt of her head, “you?”

“Large black coffee,” he said back, not wanting to take up anymore of her time for that day.

“And a large black coffee,” she repeated for the barista, “oh, and some whipped cream for the dog, please?” she said, handing her card over for payment.

“Sure,” The barista smiled at the request and it was all put through.

“You know you don’t -”

“No arguing,” Claire said, taking the card back and smiling at him. Owen gave over a defeated chuckle, giving her a weak salute.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied and Claire laughed.

They sat outside the cafe for a little while as Blue laid down on the ground, licking the small cup of whipped cream before the pair decided to set off. Blue was still concerned with licking the remnants of the cream from her nose when there was a soft and breathable moment that Owen took in droves. It was a courage he was lacking, but he wanted to make it last.

“You look nice today,” he said, and Claire smiled, looking down at her outfit. She wore a flowy white skirt that went just past her knees and matched with a long sleeve pastel blue blouse. It was slightly see through, a white tank top underneath, but she looked amazing.

“Thank you,” she replied, a giddiness in her reply. “I’m meeting with the partners of the firm today and get to talk about becoming an actual lawyer instead of a researcher,” she said, holding her coffee a little tighter.

“That’s amazing,” Owen nodded, trying to follow her words as much as he could - though he had very little knowledge on what it all meant.

“It’s a little nerve wracking if I have to be honest,” she laughed.

“Yeah, Blue can tell,” Owen chuckled and Claire turned to him.

“What?”

“She’s whining,” Owen said, and the pause between their words let the dogs soft whines be heard. “It’s not because of me,” he said and Claire huffed, crouching down to Blue’s level once more.

“Hey, girl,” she greeted, “I’ll be okay,” she winked before standing. Owen gave soft pats to the border collie’s head.

“You’re gonna be just amazing, Claire,” Owen said, and there was a sigh that left Claire - a breath of relief.

“Thank you,” she said, moving into his space and kissing his cheek. She pulled back as her phone started to ring and she cursed under her breath. “I’ve gotta run! I’ll see you later!” she said, hurrying off and Owen watched as she ran as fast as she could around a corner, heading towards whatever destination she needed to go. Regardless of how many times he had watched her leave - he could do it a thousand times over.

*~*~*

Blue was being calm that day - he felt the pressure from his shoulders lifting with her by his side, and even as he paced about some business with the shelter, she still kept him calm. The forms he was reading were simple and didn’t mean anything bad, but he needed to go over them as owner of the business - it just confused the shit out of him.

Taking another lap, Owen heard the doors of the shelter open and he rolled his eyes when he saw Eli walking into the room, cocky attitude following him like a bad stink. He leaned on the front desk as Claire’s attention was on her own that she was trying to get off her desk. “Claire, you know your starting at the firm soon,” Eli said and Owen’s pace slowed, listening into the conversation that he really didn’t want to pay attention to, but he wanted to make sure Claire was okay.

“I’m very much aware of that,” she replied, voice quick and uninterested.

“Before then, I want to take you on a nice date,” Eli said, his tone seductive yet condescending at the same time. Claire looked up at Eli. It made Owen feel sick and his heart felt like it was burning - racing to erupt into something that would finally -

“Blue, hey, stop it,” Owen said, feeling Blue push herself against Owen.

“You know, wear a dress that would put any other woman to shame, get the best bottle of wine,” Eli continued and Owen clenched his fist around the paper. Blue began jumping up and down, trying to gain his attention as she whined.

“I’m calm, stop jumping,” he replied, trying to get the dog to calm down.

“Dinner, movie, walk in the park, back to my plac-”

“Woah!” Owen said as Blue jumped up and basically tackled Owen to the ground. She laid straight down on top of him, wagging her tail and keeping him pinned. Owen resigned to this feeling. It helped. And he knew why.

“Owen, are you -” Claire tried before Eli’s laugh echoed in the shelter.

“That guy really is nuts,” he said. Owen covered his eyes, patting at Blue’s head as he regained a better breathing pattern.

“You can go, Eli,” Claire said to Owen’s surprise.

“What?” To Eli’s surprise too apparently.

“I know you don’t get this job, but I’ve liked it here,” she said, and he gave over a reluctant sigh.

“Just call me about the date okay? I’ll pick you up wherever you wanna go,” he said, just before the doors shut. Owen was watching the inside of his palm, trying to remember when his life wasn’t a mess. It was never clear. Maybe the womb was his only non-chaotic place.

“You okay?” Claire said and Owen turned to her.

“Fine, I think Blue misread a sign, and pounced,” he lied, and Claire laughed as she sat down next to them.

“She looks very comfy,” she said, nodding and hiding a smile.

“I’m her favourite bed,” he said, scratching behind the dog’s ear.

“Lucky her,” Claire said, teeth nipping at her bottom lip. Owen’s heart ached.

“You’ve only got a couple more weeks with us, huh?” he said, sitting up next to.

“Yeah, I guess so,” she said, tucking hair behind her ear. Owen became unexpectedly nervous, the obvious indication was the whine from Blue. “Did you want to -”

“I’ve got a few paychecks for you,” he interrupted. Claire’s brow furrowed.

“What?”

“I didn’t want you going unpaid for this, at least part of it wasn’t volunteer work, but you should be paid for the overtime you did,” he said, shifting his position underneath Blue and managing to stand.

Claire followed him up. “Owen, that isn’t wh-”

“I’ll get that for you before you leave,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Can we talk about this, please?” she asked, and Owen stepped back from her.

“I gotta go train some of the dogs,” he said, turning on his heels and feeling his hands shake. God he was bad at...he didn’t even know what this was - but he certainly fucking sucked at it.

*~*~*

It was quiet that night; a shaking breath of a coming night that made Owen nervous. He was closing up the shelter for the night, making sure everything was off - almost about to close up the veterinary rooms when he felt the lack of something by his side. “Blue?” he called, and when she didn’t come, he whistled. Owen switched on the lights, wandering the shelter as he became more panicked. Outside, he called her name. “Blue?!” he yelled, and the reply was silence. Until he heard laughed and thuds that sounded too familiar for Owen not to notice.

Racing over to the back gate, he looked at the lock on the wooden fence and saw the lock was snapped off. He opened the door to the back alley to see something that made his stomach sink. His little partner in crime - the thing that kept him sane was struggling to breath and the only sound she was making was a pathetic whimper. The two guys saw Owen and dashed. Owen picked up a nearby rock throwing it at one before dashing after the other. The rock landed and hit the guy square in the back. Owen caught up to the guy and snatched him up by the collar, pulling him back to his friend and before keeping the guy on the ground with his foot. Owen held the guy by his collar, fuming with a rage only Blue could control and shook the guy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asked, the two men struggled, one trying to move his foot as the other clawed at Owen’s defiant hands.

“Get your hands off of me!” the guys

“You just beat the shit out of my dog? For fun, right?” he said and the man laughed, “I’m an ex-marine, asshole,” Owen threatened and the guy stopped laughing. “Whatever you did to my dog, I’m going to you, ten times over,”

“Owen?” he heard the soft voice of Claire and he turned. She finally saw the scene and covered her mouth in shock.

“Call the police,” he yelled, pushing the guy to the fence, pinning the two guys in place, “if you know what’s good for you, you stay here,” he warned. And out of fear, neither of them moved until the police got there.

Owen’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking. He worried about his dog. He was having an anxiety attack. And he needed his dog. That was on the brink of death probably. He didn’t have time to talk about this shit. He wanted it all over.

“Yeah, thanks officer,” Owen nodded, turning to find Claire by the doors of the shelter, opening them up for him. “What’s goin-”

“I got Zara, she’s treating Blue now, but...she’s operating,” she explained, and Owen’s hand went to his forehead. He was barely registering anything, he felt everything and nothing all at once, but there was a definite tremor in his limbs.

“O-operating?” his voice shook.

“She thought you’d want to as soon as possible, we didn’t want to wait,” Claire said, holding onto his arm.

“Okay, okay,” he said, his breathing getting ragged as he stumbled forward on legs that could barely hold his weight.

“Rex!” Claire called and the giant dog came racing, guiding him to a safe spot and settling him down on the ground, head resting near him and licking at his skin whenever she could.

“Okay, I got to get in -” Owen said, almost standing, but Claire pulled him back down, keeping him in place. He looked at her with a shaking bottom lip and his hands bound so tight, his knuckles turned as white as the bones underneath.

“Slow down, big guy, sit down,” she said.

“Blue...is-” he choked.

“It’s going to be ok,” she said, her hand rubbing up and down on his shoulder. Owen’s hands went over his face, the shake in his limbs still present as he tried to keep himself together.

“I always tell people with service dogs that they do need to understand that their dogs aren’t forever. They’re a temporary part of your life,” he said, the tears slipping past his eyes and he sniffed. “I hate that I can’t follow my own advice,” he whimpered.

“I may not be able to lower your blood pressure, or slow down your heart rate,” Claire said softly, and her hand came to his, taking the tremor-filled fingers and wrapping her fingers around his, “but I can hold your hand until Zara is done,” she said and Owen looked at her with a heart that couldn’t calm down. He nodded to her, the tears still in his eyes, and Claire rested her head against his shoulder. He kept still with her there, Rex allowing him to breathe.

It felt like a lifetime before Zara came out, her forehead broken into a sweat and she looked exhausted. Owen sprung to life and Claire followed with Rex on her heels. They came to his side and Claire hooked her hand with his again. Zara sighed before smiling to the pair.

“She’s a little banged up right now, but she’s going to be fine, Owen,” she said, and Claire sighed in relief.

“Thanks for coming in, Zara,” she said.

“Anything for you guys,” she replied, “I’ve got an early shift at the -”

“Yeah, yeah, you can go,” Owen said, clearing his throat.

“She’s on a drip, but I’d still like to monitor her,” Zara said, and Owen shook his head.

“I can do it,” he replied and Zara nodded. She picked up her things and waved goodbye to them. Claire tugged on his hand briefly.

“I’ll get us something to eat,” she said.

“Claire, you don’t have to stay,” he said, but the scowl she had told him he should have swallowed his words.

“Don’t you dare argue with me right now,” she told him, “go see Blue, and I’ll bring us back something,” she nodded, her hand still gripping tightly to his. “Rex, you stay right there with him, okay?” she said to the dog, who was pinned to his side regardless. Owen laughed as her hand let go and went outside.

Owen went to sleeping area, Blue’s pen had the drip attached to it and the dog slept soundly. She looked so broken - bandaged covering her legs, stitches piecing together wounds and blood stains in her fur that was once a polished coat. He sat down next to it, pulling blankets next to him, and on top of him as Rex came and sat by his side.

Claire came back with a meal for the three of them - though she did prepare Rex’s when she came back with their take away. They managed to finish their dinner quickly and stayed up for most of the night to make sure Blue was doing alright. There seemed to be no problems, but Rex still occasionally whined when Owen became anxious.

Claire drifted in and out of sleep. It wasn’t until Owen’s attention came to her, did he realise that Claire was in sweatpants and a large t-shirt. She had been wearing it since he saw her - which meant she only caught them there when she was going out to the grocery story or something. They had completely interrupted her night, but she didn’t seem to mind. Owen tapped his foot to hers. Her eyes opened weakly.

“Thanks for staying here with me,” he whispered and she smiled.

“Anytime,” she murmured her reply before sleep finally took her. Owen managed little sleep, but when the next day came, the entire staff was there to take their place, allowing them both to go home and rest. Owen worried the whole time - but he was lucky that he had Rex by his side.

*~*~*

A week or so had passed, Owen’s anxiety was maintained by Rex. But Blue was healing well and he liked seeing her with her panting smiles. Owen sat down next to the two dogs, keeping them calm. Lowery was training Echo, the shelter was quiet save for the entire staff being in attendance. Owen asked them why they were all there, but they had things to do that day, with Zia having an early appointment with an old dog they had trained. Zara came for a check up on Blue. Franklin was there to see the books, as this was one of the last chances to see Claire before she left. And the other two were training their dogs that day.

The doors opened and Claire came through, a very casual look of jeans and a t-shirt with a faded print on it. Her hair was tied back and somehow she looked like a moviestar.

“Hey girl!” Claire called and went racing over to Blue. The dog wagged her tail quickly, and Claire scratched the dog behind the ear. “She looks great,” Claire said looking up at Owen. He tucked his hands into his pockets.

“Thanks for helping us,” he said.

“Always,” Claire shrugged, as though what she had done for him was nothing. He took a deep breath.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck briefly before tucking it away again.

“I did too,” Claire said, taking her own breath. He had no idea what she was going to say, but he breath made him curious.

“Do you want to go out with me?” The words that came out of both their mouths echoed, cheers and high fives exchanged between their staff behind them. They both laughed, Owen’s cheeks burning, and he saw the same redness emerging in Claire’s cheeks.

“What?” Claire muttered.

“Sorry?” Owen choked.

“No, you -” Claire cut herself short.

“You -” he tried.

Claire sighed, letting out a nervous chuckle before she straightened her shoulders and looked at him. “Owen, do you want to go out with me?” Claire said, a slow smile coming to her lips.

“Yes, a lot actually,” he nodded. Another cheer from the staff before they both looked at them and they shut their mouths but laughed amongst themselves. Looking back at each other, they both rolled their eyes, smiling anyway.

“Okay then,” Claire nodded, moving towards the back of the room where Franklin had been waiting and talked to him for a bit. Owen excused himself, going back to rooms for the dogs, and when he knew he was alone, he pumped his fists into the air.

“Yes!” Owen cheered silently to himself, Blue dancing around his feet and Rex jumping up and almost knocking him to the ground.

He couldn’t believe this life was falling into place.

#clawen #claire x owen #owen x claire #jurassic world #claire dearing #owen grady #my fics #winds of the lovestruck

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pokemon-channel · 6 years ago

Text

☆—Spread the Love! | Valentines Mix-up

DJ Ben stretches out in his chair, yawning silently to himself. The Delibirds flew out just a few hours prior, and he feels nothing but utmost confidence in them. He’d never bring it up to Mary, but he still can’t believe how the messages managed to get mixed up for three years running. He’s determined to make this Valentine’s Day go as smoothly as possible. Delibird are known for their innate delivery skills. How could anything go wrong?

Ben’s going to show Mary that letting him take the reigns of this event wasn’t a mistake. Everything was going to go right this year! He has a good feeling about these Delibird as they return, one-by-one, to the Radio Tower. Passing around nicely-decorated Pokepuffs to each obedient Delibird as reward, DJ Ben can’t help but feel all too pleased with himself about the event.

Such a shame he mixed the Delibirds up on their way out.

What DJ Ben brings to you, under the cut, is a tragic tale of woe. Each Valentine has been preserved in its original state. None of the people who actually received each Valentine were the intended recipients.

To further add to the confusion, each Valentine was randomized three separate times along with their sender counterparts. Thanks to the based RNG gods, some people received quite the coincidental string of Valentines…

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Green CONTENTS: A Love Ball with candy inside. “You like pink stuff right? Some guy I know from Johto gave it to me."

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Anzu CONTENTS: A fresh and new store bought cape for Silver. “I look forward to where you’re going in life.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Draze CONTENTS: A pastel pink card with “Happy Galentine’s Day” written on the front. The message inside reads “Thanks for being a good friend. If you ever need a favor or maybe just somebody to rough up a bunch of weirdos for you, you know who to call ;) -Anzu P.S. This is from my kid sister.” A colorful drawing of Alice wearing one of her iconic stage costumes is included on a separate sheet of paper, signed by Yuzu in the corner. There is also a small bag containing some homemade cookies from her.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Quentin WHO RECEIVED IT: Lance CONTENTS: Dear Q, Roses are red I don’t want to boast But you’re pretty cool And smarter than most! ~Q P.S. Self-love is important.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Ethan CONTENTS: A collection of old candies that Clair and Lance used to eat with a note that says “I remember you liking these old candies. Here’s hoping you still do."

VALENTINE SENT BY: Quentin WHO RECEIVED IT: Daigo CONTENTS: Dear Katlyn, Roses are red Your music is fine Your drumming Lucario Is cooler than mine. ~Q

VALENTINE SENT BY: Quentin WHO RECEIVED IT: Alice CONTENTS: Dear Claudia, Roses are red Fermata’s a jerk Your dancing is cool But will this rhyme work? ~Q

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Giovanni CONTENTS: A teddy bear for Kris. “I’ve heard of your success with the Gym Challenge! The Elite 4 welcome your challenge any time.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Katlyn CONTENTS: “Remember that old house in the forest? I found this up when we were there and I only came across it when I did some cleaning recently. -Morty”. Inside a gift box is a shining Dragon Fang, almost like it had been polished recently.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Moros WHO RECEIVED IT: Jac CONTENTS: A basket full of Valentine-related things in a very particular shade of bright pink. There are several roses, a few handfuls of foil-wrapped chocolate hearts, a big bag of heart-shaped gummies, and one large, very soft Luvdisc plush. There’s no card, just a tag that says, ‘TO: Lovrina FROM: M’

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Lovrina CONTENTS: With an image of a beautiful Alolan sunset on the horizon, the inside is a more explosive scene—of glitter! Enjoy that mess.

The loving message to go with it?

“Fuck you buddy.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Claudia CONTENTS: A piece of paper with the following written in pen: “I hate your stinking guts! You make me vomit. You’re scum between my toes. -Anzu”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Quentin WHO RECEIVED IT: Clair CONTENTS: Dear Daigo, Roses are red I wrote this with passion but what I can’t give you Is a new sense of fashion. ~Q

VALENTINE SENT BY: Dawn WHO RECEIVED IT: Anzu CONTENTS: 8 Pepper Chocolates for Brendan. “I hear eating something spicy can get someone pumped up and boosts competition. Here’s looking to our next Contest.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Zia CONTENTS: Motorcycle shaped Cookies for Anzu. “You ride a motorcycle correct?”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Silver CONTENTS: A homemade smudging kit with written instructions on how to cleanse your home (or gym) of negative energy. A note reads “Clair, I’m sorry this isn’t much of a valentines gift, but I thought you might get some use out of it anyway. Happy Valentines Day. -Morty”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Leaf CONTENTS: A sheet of paper with the word "Nerd” scrawled in pencil.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Ariana Natsumi CONTENTS: Mixed Chocolates and Candy for Green. “I do not remember what you enjoyed, but I hope you enjoy sweets.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Lillie CONTENTS: It’s a Pokemon Egg! What could be inside? The only thing that came with it is a note that says “This egg should hatch in a few days. Enjoy your new Pokemon! -Morty”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Daigo CONTENTS: The card has a pair of Pikachu rubbing cheeks with their tails entwined on the front. On the inside is—oh no, glitter bomb! Enjoy that mess.

Only one word is written inside.“Dork.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Red CONTENTS: Homemade vanilla cookies that are somewhat shaped like Togepi. A note reads “Happy Valentines Day. I hope you enjoy these. -Morty” He’s only a little nervous that a certain Pokemon of his might have messed with one of the batches he made. Hopefully they taste fine.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Brendan CONTENTS: A box of loose leaf tea stored in individual cloth pouches. Different blends include citrus, lavender, chamomile, mint, rose and matcha (because why not be obvious?) A note attached reads “Happy Valentines Day. I made most of these blends myself. I hope you like them. -Morty”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Whitney CONTENTS: A chocolate flower. “Hilarious right? Happy Valentines Day.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Jac CONTENTS: On the front of the card is a man and woman showing their tanned Alolan summer bodies. Inside, there’s a foil for… er, intimate bedroom activities. ‘No need to thank me.’

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Katlyn CONTENTS: A Red and Black Hat for Ethan.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Alice CONTENTS: A pink note that reads “Sorry that I lost my temper on you. I owe you one for helping me find that Clefairy Doll. P.S. If you find yourself in Olivine City anytime soon, here’s my phone number. I’ll treat you to a free meal for helping me out. -Anzu"

VALENTINE SENT BY: Quentin WHO RECEIVED IT: Morty CONTENTS: Dear Zia, Roses are red You’re fond of a ghost They give me the creeps But you’re still engrossed. ~Q

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Quentin CONTENTS: A shiny new Pokeball with a Gastly inside, adorning a light purple ribbon. “Happy Valentines Day! I wanted to give her to you sooner but she just hatched last week. Her name is Salvia. -Morty”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Barry CONTENTS: Goomy shaped Chocolates for Red. “Send me photos of your little partner!”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Kris CONTENTS: A note reads: “Sorry I haven’t kept in touch with you lately. Hope this helps make up for it.” Attached is a small bag with homemade cookies from Yuzu and several pieces of store bought chocolates.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Zia CONTENTS: Strawberries covered with Chocolates for Leaf. “I’ve heard of your recent successes! I’m very happy for you.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Red CONTENTS: A small bag of homemade cookies with a note attached reads “Yuzu made too many extra cookies for Valentines Day, so she asked me to help her get rid of some. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Whitney WHO RECEIVED IT: Daigo CONTENTS: Attached with a box of cookies with jam in the centre is a card with a !!very!! cute picture of snubbull cuddling. Inside reads: ❤ Happy Valentine’s Day!! ❤ For White Day, we should go somewhere fun! Or even before! What do you say? But don’t think you can forget about White Day just because you’re a shut-in! 😠 Okay? I’ll be expecting a gift in return! 💕 - Whitney ❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Quentin WHO RECEIVED IT: Morty CONTENTS: Dear Anzu, Roses are red You’re lacking a heart But the real problem is You’re not very smart. ~Q

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Sun CONTENTS: A pouch full of wild berries from the Ilex Forest. It seems that Morty had excellent luck when he went to gather them; there are a few Sitrus berries in the pile. “I wanted to share the wealth. Hope you’re doing well. -Morty”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Quentin CONTENTS: From the day I met you at the battle frontier, I knew something was aloaf. My head got all dizzy for the first time in years and I knew, it had to be you. Your just the person of my dreams, and I hope that someday we can be together, though we have things to discuss. Feel free to visit anytime, as I know your always going going. You know where to find me! :)

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Ethan CONTENTS: Some Strawberry Marshmallows “This is thanks for you sister keeping Mimi company, but you can keep some I guess.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Zia CONTENTS: Chocolates for Ariana Natsumi. “Happy Valentines.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Green CONTENTS: Some really messy and sloppily made chocolate. “Torra wanted to give this to you. Happy Valentines.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Anzu CONTENTS: Store Bought Chocolates “Happy Valentines.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Dawn WHO RECEIVED IT: Claudia CONTENTS: Homemade Chocolates for Barry with a note. “You probably don’t realize how much you’ve done for me. Here’s to another good year.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Morty CONTENTS: A chocolate sphere. A solid sphere of chocolate. "Isn’t this funny?”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Clair CONTENTS: Halloween Candy. “Boo. You like scary stuff right.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Whitney WHO RECEIVED IT: Lance CONTENTS: There’s a personal photo printed on the front of this card of Goldenrod City’s Gym Leader Whitney crowded by a group of pokémon: a smiling clefable, miltank, aipom, wigglytuff, and a bibarel whose flat eyes stare into your soul.

Inside are a bunch of stickers with this same exact picture, but smaller!

‘Sunny,Happy Valentine’s, Sunny! I’m thinking about you all the way here in Johto. 💕 Do they have a photo booth over there you can take sticker pictures with? You should find out, pronto!! Or send me some cute pictures of you and your pokémon!

Love you lots! 😘

❤️ Whitney ❤️ ’

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Red CONTENTS: A Black, Blue, and Red scarf made with Lance’s color scheme for Morty. "Stay warm.” is all the note says.

#valentine event

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readsfortunes · 6 years ago

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PERMANENT PLOTTING CALL, like this post if you’re interested in plotting with any of my muses and I’ll IM everyone <3 short descriptions with links are below the cut to help out as well, and the list will be updated if/as I make more muses. (mutuals only, and please specify which muse you’d like to plot with!!)

Sabine Beavoir aka Nightshade (fandomless cyberpunk oc)

Sabine is an assassin in a cyberpunk universe, which I am currently building. She was brought into this world by her mentor, who helped her years ago when she killed her father after he killed her mother and locked her and her sister in a room for three days. Sabine is very sadistic, she only does hired kills (lies, sometimes she strays from the path and does it purely for fun), but she really enjoys it. Verse-wise, I can work around to fit her into marvel or dc universes if needed, but anything that has a sci-fi atmosphere works.

Calliope Espinosa (fandomless vampire oc)

Callie’s a very powerful vampire. In the setting I created for her, she became the leader of an entire faction of vampires, and within that group she is called La Reina. She’s the owner of a vampire bar and cabaret, where all types of creatures are welcome as long as they respect her and her vamps. And the humans that come along are probably gonna turn into food. And yes, I will admit, she was heavily inspired by FDTD’s Kisa. She can fit in many different verses, anything works as long as she’s still a vampire.

Venus Von Spanx (fandomless drag queen oc)

Venus is a drag performer and dominatrix, owner and manager of a sex club called The Kink Machine (name probably to be changed). I still have a few details to work out about her, but it’s pretty simple, she’s a human oc that can fit many many verses.

Natalia Kaisekamp aka Personification of Lust (fandomless oc)

So Natalia has two verses that matter: one where she REALLY is the personification of sin, and one where experiments where done on her by what is called The Sin & Virtue project (also set in my cyberpunk universe). In this cyberpunk verse, she has no memory of her actual life, just memories that were implanted on her, they’ve made her believe she is the personification of Lust, just as they’ve done to the other people in this project, created for unknown purposes.

Václav Koller (Deus Ex franchise)

Václav is the owner of a bookstore called The Time Machine, which is actually a front for his real business: illegal underground augmentation clinic. He does neuroplastic surgery for people who still have augments (and the money to pay for this kind of stuff), but his clientele is mostly criminals.

Donovan (The Red Strings Club)

Donovan is a bartender and information broker, but for reasons yet unknown, he cannot leave his bar. His body also rejects modifications, and he’s one of the only humans who hasn’t had anything implanted or modified.

Nine Ball (Ocean’s 8)

Nine Ball is an amazing hacker, and currently owns her own bar, due to the money she gained from the heist. And……… I don’t know what else to say bc there’s not much about her in the movie and I’m a dumbass and don’t remember her real name. But I’ll work on this.

Lara Croft (Tomb Raider)

(I follow the Survivor Timeline) Daughter of a wealthy archeologist, Lara grew up in a big house with a fascination for all things ancient and historical, dreaming of being like her dad one day. However, his incessant research into eternal life (due to the death of Lara’s mother, Amelia), drew him further and further into reclusion, causing Lara to rebel against him for many years. After his death, and recently out of college, Lara decided to look into her father’s research, going into places he had been or spoken about, which garnered her a few interesting adventures.

Mollymauk Tealeaf (critical role)

(quick disclaimer: i still haven’t totally caught up with campaign 2 and i haven’t finished campaign 1, sorry). Molly’s a bloodhunter tiefling with purple skin and horns as ostentatious as his wardrobe. After being found repeating the word empty over and over, Molly was taken in to the Fletching and Moondrop Travelling Carnival of Curiosities, with which he travelled for 2 years alongside Yasha before the two of them joined forces with some more outcasts and formed the Mighty Nein. I am still undecided if there will be a non-fantasy verse for Molly, but.... probably not, for now, it’s all DnD centered. (But I would love having some stuff set before the campaign btw!!)

Zia Rodriguez (Jurassic World)

Zia is a paleo-veterinarian, having always dreamt of working on the island, however that never came to be because the incident happened soon after she accepted an internship at the park. Eventually, she joined the DPG to help with their efforts, hoping to study the dinosaurs once they were rescued, and to one day be able to tell the world more about these creatures.

The White Widow (Mission Impossible)

Alanna and her brother Zola are the children of Max Mitsopolis, a world-renowned arms dealer from whom they inherited the business. At some point, Max turned to using her illegally-obtained money for charitable purposes, something Alanna kept doing as well.

Bloody Mary (Fables / The Wolf Among Us)

A socipathic killer, Mary was the henchwoman for the Crooked Man before his death (verse based on choosing to kill the Crooked Man in TWAU). She left Fabletown for a while after getting severely injured by Bigby Wolf, hiding and plotting her next course of action. Mary’s back now, taking Crooked’s business for herself, intent on becoming a crime boss. Mundies call her Bloody Mary, an old legend that dares children to summon her in a bathroom mirror by repeating her name, and she visits all those who have the audacity of bothering her, teaching them a quite bloody lesson.

#hey there demons! it’s me ya local cryptid ♠ ooc.#plotting call

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willxcapulet · 6 years ago

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Job Application

Parties: Zia Romano & Will Capulet

Events: Zia applies to work at the tattoo parlour

Date: Last week sometime

@ziaxromano

Zia:

Bouncing on her toes, Zia had done her best to look decent and elegant. A soft pastel blue dress reaching her to her knees, a white coat over, and her face just lightly decorated with makeup, but nothing too extreme. Really, she had done her best to look like one of the porcelain dolls one could find in a doll store. Nervous she had her resume in hand, and knocked on the door to the tattoo studio, remembering how he had told her that it was technically closed, but he would be in to do some paperwork. Really, she hadn’t expected to be allowed to come in on such a short notice either, yet there she stood, nervous. What if she didn’t get the job, because she didn’t belong to the same family as him? Or because she had been someone who misbehaved when she was younger? He had said that it shouldn’t be what kept her from getting it, but really, you never knew. Yet, she could be in luck, and be allowed to at least start working there.

Will:

Frankly they were in desperate need of a new receptionist. It had been ages since they had anyone decent. So Will was hopeful when the girl messaged him. He had the invoices spread out on the break room table when he heard the tap at the door. He walked through and tugged it open. “Hi there. Come on in.” he greeted before closing the door behind her and throwing the lock behind her. “So I’m Will Capulet. I’ve recently taken over as manager here so I’m kinda drowning a bit in paperwork.”

Zia:

Oh thank God, he was actually there! Her heart could finally calm down as the redhead came out and allowed her to come into the studio, and she nodded her head. “Hello sir, thank you for inviting me.” She told him, her voice gentle as she spoke. She really, really needed to get this job. Somewhere to spend her time, which was not in Indros place, and, would get her a bonus point with Silvius. After all, he seemed to tolerate her more than Celeste did. “Oh that’s stressful. Hopefully I can help more with that, than cause more struggles with it, if you’d like me here at least. Anyways, I brought my resume, but if you have any questions, please do ask me anything about it Sir.”

Will:

Will gestured to the seating area just behind reception as he accepted her resume. “Thank you.Have a seat while I have a look.” he murmured as he read it over. “So why the gap? What was going on there? Travel or something?” he asked curiously as he picked up his pen and made a few notes in the margin.

Zia:

“Yes sir.” She nodded her head before making her way over to the seating area. Taking the coat off, she folded it together before laying it over her lap, her hands resting carefully on top of it. “Well, I am as said a Romano, and we have this…” How to explain it the best. “Institution of sorts, where we get sent if we are struggling a bit with behaviors. Sort of like a boarding school, for submissives, where we work and help out at a farm.” She explained, taking a deep breath. “I spent eight months there, due to some behavioral issues I used to have, with a bit too much extreme behaviors during parties, which made my family figure it was best to send me there to learn how to control myself better, and now I was allowed to come back out into the big world.” She hoped at least it wouldn’t ruin her chances to work there. She was being honest at least.

Will:

Will nodded as she started to speak, a few notes started and then stopped. “Seriously? You have like … behaviour rehab?” He was a little incredulously. He’d never heard of such a thing before. “Do you have … like issues of control? Like stealing or something?” That was a real concern for Will. If he couldn’t trust her, they couldn’t work here. Obviously.

Zia:

“Yeah, you can pretty much consider it that. But it is only for the submissives, it’s not for the dominants. Though sometimes you have submissives who are there, because it is the safest place for them.” She told him with a nod of her head. Though at his question she had to shake her head. “Oh absolutely nothing like stealing or anything. It was more, getting drunk during family gatherings, not really caring about whether or not people saw my underwear while I was dancing, and the final straw was me jumping off a roof, and into a pool. So no, it’s nothing criminal, it was purely just me having far too much energy with no shame in my body.”

Will:

“Huh? Wow. I’ve never heard of anything like that before. Sorry. I’m not trying to be judgy or anything.” Will replied with a shrug. “Okay … okay good. Well I have to admit that wouldn’t have gone over well at one of my family parties either. Sounds like you’d fit right in with the Montagues.” Then he laughed, “Okay so. How are you with computers?”

Zia:

“It’s perfectly fine, I judge that institution plenty myself, so it’s no worries.” The blonde told him with a small smile on her lips, honestly not having an issue with him minding the Aunties. “Well, I was young and quite… Well, you know how kittens are when they get those bursts of energies? That was me, but in well a human form.” She told him with a laugh in return, able to laugh at her own mess ups. “I am perfectly fine with those, sir. They’re not what I exist for, but I am perfectly comfortable with them.”

Wil:

Will burst into laughter at the description. He couldn’t help but think that his sister, Posey, would have been similar. Her shenanigans were legendary. But she was getting more together and responsible every day. He was super proud of how she had grown and he couldn’t help but think such a place would have squashed all the fun and interesting pieces of his sister. “Good good. So the position I am hiring for is reception. It does mean taking payment, handling clients, booking appointments and dealing with the rest of us. It isn’t glamorous but the pay is okay. So saying all that, what do you think would be your least favourite part of the job?”

Zia:

The fact that she made him start laughing, hoping that was at least a good sign. Though, how could it possibly be anything but a good sign? After all, it did mean that he found her fun at least. “I think I could handle dealing with the rest of you guys, after all I’m not an easily intimidated girl.” She told him with a bright grin. Though at his question, she tapped her chin, pretending to think for a moment. “To refrain from booking monthly appointments for new tattoos myself? I don’t think my brother would like it very much if I came home tattooed from head to toes suddenly.”

Will:

Will glanced down at his own well-covered arms, “I wouldn’t know.” he deadpanned in response. “You do get a discount by the way. What kinds of jobs have you had before? Or if not jobs, tell me about a time you were put to work and you accomplished something you were proud of?” he asked seriously.

Zia:

“Oh don’t mention the discount, I already have ideas for my other shoulder, sir. I have so many I want.” She said with a laugh, the blonde hair bobbing up and down around her face. “I used to help out at my elementary school with keeping the younger kids occupied during school breaks, and I also used to help out during sunday school in the church my family belonged to back in Ragusa. But at the farm I did mostly anything I got put to do. From cleaning up from the animals, to helping with painting walls, to helping with cooking meals to anything honestly. I like working and feeling useful, so honestly I am not too shy for any kind of task.”

Will:

Will just laughed, “This place is not a good influence when it comes to tattoos… you’ll want more and more. We also do piercings when needed.” He murmured in reply, “Okay … so busy is good. This place is busy. We are hiring for another artist as well. But our reception is becoming an issue. We have one person right now but she is getting claimed soon and wants more and more time off. I suspect after the ceremony, she is going to resign.” He shrugged lightly, “He’s quite traditional. Anyway, so I need, well we need, someone who can handle the desk so we can, you know, do our work.”

Zia:

“Oh don’t say that, you’re going to corrupt me into getting piercings too!” She giggled in response, unable to keep the smile from her face. “Busy is perfect, means there’s no time to get into trouble, and means I’ll actually use up all the energy I have. Though yeah… If she’s already asking for more and more time off, it would make sense if she would resign after the ceremony.” She agreed with a nod, feeling hopeful about this job. “I think I could handle it, and just also remind you all about drinking some water every now and then, as I know I at least often forget about that when I disappear deep into projects myself.”

Will:

“Sounds good. Listen we’re a bit desperate. “So I could continue. However, the fact is, we really need someone to start right away in January. Like January 2nd. So would you be willing to come in and do a few training days between now and then? Learn our booking system, how our till works and all that? See if you like it?”

Zia:

A brow raised as he offered her the job, and she nodded her head excited. “Yes, happily! Like… Yes? No doubt, at all. I am not going back to Ragusa for the holidays, so I am available more or less any day you want me to come in, sir. Oh god, thank you so much!”

Will:

“Okay then. Ummm…. Here are the forms to fill in. Identity number and tax forms for the family and all that.” he murmured as he passed over the forms. “Just bring them in … like next Thursday? You can come in for the day, see what it is like?” Will continued as he nodded. “Listen. If you end up not liking it… that’s cool. But I really hope you do. We could really use the help.”

Zia:

Zia could not help but be incredibly excited, both by how this had gone, but also by the fact that she could now say she actually managed it all on her own. No one in her family had fixed this for her, it wasn’t like anyone had made a call for her. It was all her own doing. “I will ask Lord Silvius to check over it so that you won’t have to worry about any numbers to be wrong.” She told him with another nod of her head. “I hope I’ll like it here too, it seems like a place I would like at least. So really, thank you for the chance, sir. I hope to impress and not disappoint.”

Will:

“Cool cool.” Will agreed with a nod. “Listen, everyone here is pretty chill and it may seem casual. This many tattoos and piercings and all that. However … this is our job and we love it. We work hard and treat our clients well. There is no dress code or anything. We want people to feel comfortable. Front desk is kind of … the face you know. So you just have to make sure people feel respected and welcome. No matter the designation or what they look like. Come with that in mind and you’ll be just fine.”

Zia:

She continued to nod her head, unable to keep from it. She was just so excited, so eager to finally get to show what she could do. To do something on her own. “Of course, I don’t really care what people look like. I know I look like a barbie doll almost at times, but trust me, that is nothing to do with what I think about how others dress, it’s just for my own sake.” Mostly so she remembered to not mouth off her own family. “I’m very firm in the belief that everyone deserves a chance, or ten. So don’t worry about that, I generally come with the mindset that anyone I meet could be a potential friend.”

Will:

“I like that attitude.” Will replied with a light shrug, “My claim is the same. Beautiful so people forget she’s also brilliant. It can be frustrating but we’ve given tattoos to everyone from punk kids to first designation to hollywood celebs. So this place is all about taking care of each other. The other artists are awesome. You’ll see my claim Ginny around. My cousin Daisy owns the florist shop not to far away. We’re all pretty cool around here. You know? I think you’ll like it.”

Zia:

“Yeah, people have a tendency to forget that beautiful people also have a brain, but it just makes it so much more fun when you can tell them something they did not already know.” She said, smiling to the man sitting ahead from her. “Yeah? I think that sounds pretty great. I still remember how it was to get the tattoo for my designation and how terrifying that was, so hopefully I can help bring peace to people who have nerves when they come here.”

#zia romano #google doc para

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secretradiobrooklyn · 4 years ago

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May Day Edition | 5.1.21

Secret Radio | 5.1.21 | Hear it here.

1. Zia - “Helel Yos”

This song has been in our heads in a big way the last few weeks. Zia was my first exposure to pre-revolutionary Iranian rock — sometimes called “psych rock,” though I can’t tell if that’s a designation he would make himself. But to be fair, I have no idea what he’s going for. Nonetheless, those little whistles he does get under my skin and into my brain. I wake up in the morning singing “helel yoza, hella hella helel yoza”… This is from the late ‘60s, I believe. The whole album (also called “Helel Yos”) is pretty excellent, and includes the song “Khofrium” from our last broadcast. A recent favorite and highly recommended.

2. Shin Joong Hyun - “Pushing through the Fog”

Somehow stumbled on this collection of South Korean music, and it has been mesmerizing. Shin Joong Hyun is a great example of something I love discovering over and over again: someone working within a language and a genre, but also expressing a completely unique personal style that extends beyond those general qualities and into startling specifics. This song is from “Beautiful Rivers and Mountains: The Psychedelic Rock Sound of South Korea’s Shin Joong Hyun 1958-74,” which blows my mind, because the tones, and especially the bass and drums, sound so completely of the moment. It’s sold out at Light In The Attic’s store, so we’ll be keeping our eyes out for it in the wild, because these are going to be some crucial liner notes. The brief version on their site describes him as a guitarist, songwriter, producer, arranger, and talent developer. He began by performing for US troops in Korea post active war time, became a bewitching guitarist and songwriter, then started producing other bands in the region, and a string of hits developed. It sounds like his story includes a really harsh period of intrusion and disruption by the government… but as far as I can tell he survived to the current day, and even helped oversee this collection.

3. The Traces - “Je t’aime moi non plus” - “Thai Beat A Go Go Vol 2”

Ummm… I would LOVE to know what words they’re singing. This chummy Thai version of Gainsbourg’s super sensual “Je t’aime, moi non plus” is such a weird listening experience. I think one of the singers is either drunk or hearing the song for a first or second pass. What are they saying?!

4. Annie Philippe - “On m’a toujours dit”

I really love the energy and style of this track and many of the Annie Philippe songs I’ve heard, which makes it aggravating that the first thing one finds online in English about Philippe is a condescending, limp writeup on her by Richie Unterberger that tries its best to ignore how delightful her voice is and how pleasurable the arrangements are — luckily the dude mentions that Paul Mariat worked on her albums, who also arranged Charles Aznavour. I love the florid colors of French pop from the ‘60s with hothouse arrangements and wide-flung voices. The ebullient drums and electric guitar, the confident harmonies and tucked in little organ and horn licks are all pure joy.

5. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou - “Houton Kan Do Go Me”

While we were in the Illinois woods we received some very welcome records from Germany’s Analog Africa label which included “The Skeletal Essences of Afro-Funk,” a collection of songs by pretty much our favorite band in the world, T.P. Orchestre. These songs that explore some of the facets of the band that “Echoes Hypnotique” and “The Vodoun Effect” — both gorgeous, keystone records — hadn’t gotten to yet. The language is Fon, the style is Jerk, and the composer (though not the singer, I think) is Bentho Gustave, T.P.’s bassist. pretty sure the singer is Lohento Eskill.

- Hailu Mergia & The Walias - “Musicawi Silt”

The Walias is the band that Hailu Mergia was in when he first came to America. I seem to remember a story that they were disappointed with the trip, went home to Ethiopia and broke up, but Mergia stayed and kept developing his keyboard style, which did a few decades later (!) actually win him wide recognition and acclaim. This is some of his earlier work, not in the director’s seat, and you can hear so much of Mergia’s style woven into the band’s arrangements. I love how it sounds like he’s just playing pure electric current — it barely sounds like an organ to me, more like uncut groove tone.

6. “Newsies” clip

In celebration of May Day, we present this inspiring tale of unions forming in the streets of New York.

7. Sexe a Pile - “Pas Méchant”

Another recent record score, this one from our other most favorite label, Born Bad Records in France: “Paink: French Punk Anthems 1977-1982.” One thing I love about this song is that the chorus always makes me think of “High Class” by the Buzzards, a song that never got nearly enough love as far as I’m concerned.

8. The Replacements - “Customer”

Dave got me thinking about the Replacements and before I knew it we were deep into “Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash.” So wild and loose and pissed off and sincere the whole time. You can really hear Westerberg yearn to be great but also sneer at himself for taking something seriously. It used to sound so unhinged to me but now it has become an album about being young and scared of yourself

9. Plearn Promdan - “Ruk Kum Samong”

Well, this was something we didn’t see coming — the Thai music we’ve heard up to now has been more ’50s influenced. It sounds like a four-piece rock band surrounded by a drum circle. This is part of what’s apparently known as Luk Thung underground. There’s been some very good stuff so far, I look forward to finding out more.

10. T.P. Orchestre - “Azanlokpe”

I got a little obsessed with T.P. Orchestre for a while there, and was trying to listen to every single recording that Discogs offered — which is a LOT, because they were super prolific. This is one of my favorite finds so far. I wish I could say which singer this is; it was noted as Melome Clément but I don’t think that’s him. So many talented people in this band!

11. Francis Bebey - “Super Jingle”

Francis Bebey contains multitudes. I’m pretty sure he records all of these parts himself. I think he’s just a master of rhythm — all of the instruments weave a tapestry that he can then cavort upon. The body of the song is so hypnotizing, the lead so akimbo.

12. Dalida - “J’ai revé”

One of the highlights of the 2017 St. Louis International Film Fest was the biopic of her life. This is early Dalida. As far as Paige understands, she’s the French Lady Gaga for people who were clubbing in the ’70s and ’80s. The story of her life has some really sad shit, but this take on Bobby Darin’s “Dream Lover” is full of life.

- “Newsies” reprise

Radical sincerity sometimes requires references to musicals.

- Petch Pintong - “Soul Lum Piern”

I love this track and know nothing about it except that it was collected on “Thai Beat A Go Go Vol 4.” Those collections have turned out to be full of riches!

13. Atomic Forest - “Obsession ’77 (Fast)”

OK, these guys seem really interesting. They’re an Indian psych-funk band, which was apparently totally unheard of there, and they only released a single album — and that one only after they broke up. Because that album is full of great stuff, most notably (at least to me) this track, their story is almost too perfectly suited to the obsessions of vinyl collectors worldwide. Now-Again Records re-released the album in 2011, and we ran across it just a couple months ago. I really enjoy the sense of narrative in the song — what’s happening in the foreground keeps evolving and remaining legitimately interesting.

14. Metak - “Da Mi Je Biti Morski Pas”

I’m proud to say that these dedicated rockers are Croatian, and this track from 1980 rocks like a seafoam T-top Stingray. This is from a 7” with “Rock’n’Roller” on the flip.

15. Mai Lan - “Les Huîtres”

Paige found this amazing playlist on Spotify years ago, and this is finally the way she started getting into more contemporary French music. It sounds like she’s from a musical and artistic French-Vietnamese family. “Les Huîtres” is from around 2008. Kind of feels like

16. VIS Idoli - “Maljciki”

We found a video of this Yugoslavian ska while looking for something else entirely. I did learn that this is political ska, and that they were frowned upon by the government. One account has them being indulged by the government; another has them under threat of punishment. I do love knowing that ska is a political form and not just a genre. I have no idea how they would feel about the Croatian rockers a few tracks back, and I hope none of them did any harm to one another other during the terrible ‘90s.

17. Para One, Arthur Simonini - “La Jeune Fille en Feu” - “Portrait of a Woman on Fire” score

Did you see “Portrait of a Woman on Fire”? We highly recommend it, for a lot of reasons but definitely for the passage of this song. It sounds great here, but at night, by firelight, with all the nuns and farmwomen on the island?

18. The Space Lady - “Ghost Riders in the Sky”

- Sleepy Kitty - “Western Antagonist Reflection”

19. Mikyas Chernet - “Ziyoze”

Marc, this is the song I was talking about stepping into the Teddy Afro position. It’s definitely not the same, but you can hear the modern Ethiopian pop feel running through it. It helps that I first heard it while picking up an order from our favorite Ethiopian in STL, which is also where we first heard Teddy Afro. The dancers are on POINT in the video, and they’re rockin a couple of new styles that I hadn’t seen yet.

20. Nazir Ali - “Lad Pyar Aur Beti”

Listen to the giant smiles in their voices! This is from a very recent compilation. That female voice has to be Nahid Aktar, or at least it sounds just like her; I think the protagonist-sounding male voice is Ali’s. There is a brief appearance from that Oscar the Grouch-sounding guy from last episode’s Aktar song. It’s so cool how the song shifts into new mode after new mode as it goes.

21. Nathalie - “L’Amour Nous Repond”

22. The Fall - “L.A.”

This period of The Fall is surely our favorite — wherever Brix E. went, the songs were great. And now, with vaccines coursing through our systems, we can feel our thoughts casting their way to LA and San Francisco…

23. Akaba Man & The Nigie Rokets - “Ta Gha Hunsimwen”

Analog Africa’s most recent release is “Edo Funk Explosion Vol. 1,” with tracks from the late ‘70s and ‘80s in Nigeria’s Benin City. Akaba Man is described as “the philosopher king of Edo funk.” The whole album is full of good tracks that only get better with repeated listens. This one has a bed of sounds that could happily go on for hours or days.

24. Gérard Manset - “Entrez dans le rêve”

Paige: “If you ever want to hear Lou Reed sing in French, this is the best we’re gonna get.”

- Johnny Guitar - “Bangkok by Night”

We heard the “Shadow Music of Thailand” album a while back but haven’t dipped into it for too long. This Santo & Johnny style reverbed-out dream of the ‘50s lives eternally in Thai psych guitar.

25. David Bowie - “When I Live My Dream”

We do not condone the killing of any species of dragon, and I can only trust that neither dragon nor giant was harmed in the making of this fantasy.

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expatimes · 4 years ago

Photo

Wadi-e-Hussain: A graveyard for Pakistan’s Shia victims | Civil Rights News

Karachi, Pakistan – Miles from the hustle and bustle of the metropolis of Pakistan’s largest city, Karachi, lies the Wadi-e-Hussain graveyard with its hundreds of graves. Each is a window into a life that ended all too abruptly.

Protected from the city by large iron gates and tall walls, there is an uneasy calm within its walls where many of the city’s Shia Muslims have been laid to rest.

Pakistan is home to 220 million people, almost all of whom are Muslim. It is also home to one of the largest Shia populations in the world, as an estimated 20 percent of Muslims there are Shia.

At Wadi-e-Hussain red flags are planted by the graves of observant Shia Muslims who have died in targeted killings, gun or bomb attacks.

Since 2001, more than 2,600 Shia Muslims have been killed in violent attacks in the South Asian country, according to the South Asia Terrorism Portal research organisation. This year has seen an uptick in targeted killings against Shia accused of blasphemy.

In September, tens of thousands attended a demonstration in Karachi organised by the Ahle Sunnat Wal Jamaat (ASWJ), a Sunni hardline group that is banned under Pakistani law for its ties to the armed Lashkar-e-Jhangvi (LeJ) group, which has carried out many of the largest bombings and attacks on the community since 1996.

At Wadi-e-Hussain, people paying their respects come and go, as the caretaker customarily sprinkles water on the graves.

“Some bring flowers, some light candles on every Thursday, sometimes a brother or a mother comes with the book of prayer, spends time on the grave,” says the caretaker Laal Mohammad.

As the scent of rose petals and incense wafts across the graves this history of violence is writ large across the tombstones. A group of five graves marks a family killed in the Abbas town blast of 2013. A mother’s grave sits by her four-year-old’s son’s, killed in the same blast; the inscription says the woman dropped dead when she saw her young child’s lifeless body.

There are more than 300 graves belonging to the those dubbed as “martyrs” in Wadi-e-Hussain. These are their stories.

‘My brother did not come back’

A woman sits near a grave, reading verses from a prayer book, crying as she does so.

Tehseen Abidi’s younger brother was also killed in the 2013 bombing in Abbas Town, a popular majority-Shia Muslim neighbourhood in Karachi. Kashif Abbas Abidi was at the site of the blast when it went off. Police never found his body.

For 40-year-old Tehseen, Kashif was her whole world. Sitting by his grave, she tells the story of the day she lost her brother in the attack, a sequence of bomb blasts which killed at least 45 people.

There are more than 300 graves belonging to the those dubbed as “martyrs” in Wadi-e-Hussain

“He died in the first blast, he was present at the site of the blast, he promised me that he would come to see me in the evening, my brother did not come back” she says.

Abidi owned a general store in the neighbourhood and was at work when the bombs went off.

“It was March 3 and a Sunday,” said Tehseen. She only got a few sentences in before she broke down in tears, remembering her “little one”.

The government offered financial compensation to the families whose relatives had died that day and in other attacks. But the relatives say the money is of little comfort.

“The government gave 1.5 million rupees to his wife, but our loss is so big that nothing can compensate for this loss,” said Tehseen.

“Even if our whole life we cry it’s not enough. Maybe if we all die crying in this anguish, maybe only then it will be compensated.”

‘Something died inside me that day’

On June 6, 1963 while preparing for a local ceremony, Ishtiaq Hussain and his fellow mourners heard the news of an attack on the procession in Thehri town, 14 kilometres (8.6 miles) out of Khairpur city in Sindh province. Hussain, now aged 80, is still haunted by his memories of that day.

It was a few days after Ashura, the 10th day of Muharram, the first month in the Islamic calendar. Ashura marks the anniversary of the Karbala mass killing and is commemorated by Shia Muslims in sombre rituals and processions.

“We were around 200 people who ran to save the congregation of Thehri that day,” he says. “We didn’t know that the news was a trap, and there were thousands of waiting for us with axes and swords in their hands, to chop us all into pieces.”

Hussain made it out alive but he has no idea how.

“I was among the survivors, but I can’t recall how I survived. There were around 10 people who attacked me with the axes, they injured me badly, my neck and shoulder were bleeding, they kicked me in my stomach to the point that I started spitting blood,” he says.

“I still survived, but something died inside me that day.”

The attack at Thehri was one of the first significant sectarian attacks since Pakistan gained independence from the British in 1947.

More than 118 people were killed on that day. They were to be the first of thousands killed for being Shia.

Silencing the outcry

In August 2020, in the month of Muharram, a fresh wave of sectarian tension rippled across Karachi and the rest of the country. Shia scholars were accused of blasphemy after they gave sermons critical of Islam’s early caliphs. Thousands rallied in Karachi under the banner of the ASWJ, calling Pakistan’s Shia leaders infidels.

After the protests ended, many Pakistanis denounced the ASWJ supporters’ hate speech and said the government had not taken the demonstrators to task.

Journalist Bilal Farooqi was one of the few who spoke out publicly.

A Sunni, Farooqi was arrested in October 2020 on charges of having spread “religious hatred” and “anti-state sentiment”. He had tweeted criticisms of the ASWJ march and questioned the authorities over their allowing an organisation that had been designated as “terrorist” to organise the march.

“Most of my posts, on the basis of which was filed against me, were about the ASWJ’s involvement in anti-Shia activities,” said Farooqi. Later released from police custody, he is still facing the same court charges.

He has called on Sunni Muslim activists to speak up against police inaction towards groups involved in Shia Muslim attacks.

Running parallel with the ASWJ’s continuing anti-Shia campaign has been the rise of a new far-right religious group in Pakistan, the Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP), which has made the so-called issue of blasphemy a rallying point.

Since 2017, the TLP and its leading scholars have seen a sharp rise in support for the issue and have pressured the government to penalise those accused of blasphemy.

The movement and its leader Khadim Hussain Rizvi were behind days of protests in 2018 over one of Pakistan’s most high-profile blasphemy cases. It involved the acquittal of a Christian woman, Asia Bibi on blasphemy charges. The TLP also blocked the main highway leading to the capital Islamabad for weeks in 2017 over a change in an electoral oath. It was deemed by them as blasphemous because it eased some restrictions on members of the Ahmadi sect, an offshoot of Sunni Islam that believes in a subordinate prophet and has been declared non-Muslim under Pakistani law.

Farooqi says the TLP has also recently hit out at Shia Muslims for what they say is blasphemy against some of Prophet Muhammad’s companions.

Regional politics, local violence

Following the Islamic revolution in 1979 in Shia-majority Iran, which shares a border with Pakistan, there was an influx of Iranian and Shia Muslim influence into Pakistan, says Hasan Zafar Naqvi, a popular Pakistani Shia leader.

The real problem, he argues, emerged after the United States and Saudi Arabia – which is Sunni-majority and has long viewed Iran as its regional rival – began to look at Iran’s perceived influence in Pakistan as a threat to the region.

Pakistan’s ruler at the time, General Zia ul-Haq, had seized power in a military coup in 1977 and was in the process of establishing a more theocratic state. During Haq’s time in power until 1988, the role of religion in government affairs grew. It also became the basis for US-backed armed action by the ‘mujahideen’ in neighbouring Afghanistan.

Backed by Saudi Arabia, Sunni hardline groups began to counter the perceived threat of Shia in the region. To that purpose, a group called Sipah-e-Sahaba Pakistan (SSP, later to become the ASWJ) was formed in 1985 in central Pakistan.

Founded by Haq Nawaz Jhangvi, the party was against the mainly Shia Muslim landlords of the area and sought to exploit sectarian differences. It called for Shia Muslims to be declared non-Muslim under Pakistani law and organised frequent protests to highlight the issue. The rise of the SSP, and its allied LeJ in the 1990s, saw a sharp rise in incidents of violence against Shia Muslims across the country in the decades to follow, says Naqvi, the scholar.

Repeated attacks

In 2009, Syed Liaquat Hussain Zaidi, an influential Shia activist and leader in Karachi was gunned down by LeJ.

Zaidi’s murderer was arrested two years later and confessed to police that he was working for the LeJ and had been given a hit-list of influential Shia Muslims in the city to kill, according to Zaidi’s family.

Zaidi was actively involved in charity and welfare work and was the president of Pasban-e-Aza, a Shia welfare organisation, said his sister Rehana Zaidi.

On a winter morning in November, Zaidi took his young son to school but never returned, says Rehana.

Two motorcyclists shot him three times in the head as he stopped at a traffic signal in the city. His niece first reached the scene and found her uncle in a pool of blood, the car surrounded by onlookers. No one attempted to help him, she says.

A year after the murder, Zaidi’s killers returned – this time shooting Zaidi’s nephew, Rameez Hussain, mere blocks away from the family home.

Miraculously, the nephew survived. The murderer, in his confession, told police he had fled the scene having assumed Hussain had been killed. “God saved him,” says Rehana.

#humanrights Read full article: https://expatimes.com/?p=16462&feed_id=27009 #asia #civilrights #conflict #features #humanrights #pakistan #religion

#Asia #CivilRights #Conflict #Features #HumanRights #Pakistan #Religion

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darth-salem-emperor-of-earth · 7 years ago

Note

and also “If you had asked me to stay, I would’ve.” for Zia and Goneril because I cannot be stopped XD

Of course you cannot be halted when it comes to our Zabrak girlfriends and I don’t blame you. I don’t want you to stop either. And thanks for the ask, @highjustices! :D

Being hunted and temporarily without a power base infuriated Goneril to no end and extremely increased her despisal for Darth Thanaton, who reduced her rise to power almost back to the starting line. Killing him would be too simple, too good for the likes of him. No, once she got her hands on that wrinkly, feeble excuse of a Sith Lord, she’d torture every single bit of him until he screamed for mercy and resembled nothing like his former self. Once he was dead, she could sleep properly for once.

“Goneril, you need some rest.” Only one person in her ship would dare to hover near her while she stewed away in one of her black, vengeful moods: Ziadra.

“How can I sleep when I can sense Thanaton trying to box me in from all sides?” grumbled the said scarlet skinned Zabrak, idly fiddling with the golden bib necklace her cult had gifted to her about a month ago. Hopefully, her followers hadn’t dissolved into chaos without her most recent guidance. “This would be all over if he faced me here and now so I can finally shred his ass to pieces.”

“That’s why he’s attacking you from a distance now while never personally engaging you. He’s afraid of what you can do now.” Zia remarked, placing one hand on her lover’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “But I feel the same way. For weeks I’ve been imagining what it will feel like to finally punch the bastard Baras right in that ugly mug of his or slice him two after I give my former Master the beating of the century.” The taller Zabrak sat down currently present. Unperturbed by the hushness, Goneril leaned back into Zia, the warmth and solid feel of her lover’s presence offering her solace during these troubled times. Their Force Bond, a sudden, unexpected surprise but a welcoming one, kept them attuned with each other and their emotions. Right now, she could sense conflict brewing inside the tall, orange Zabrak, as well as a lingering, strong dose of remorse. That second more prominent emotion puzzled Goneril. Why would Zia be regretting anything–unless it had something to do with Darth Baras’s betrayal?

“Is everything all right, Zia?” she asked quietly, slipping a hand into Zia’s open palmed one. “Something pressing has been plaguing your mind, I can sense it.” At first, Ziadra didn’t utter anything in return, but squeezed Goneril’s hand almost reassuringly as the silence between them grew. Then, after a few more minutes of allowing her query to hang in the air, the Sith warrior eventually founded the words she needed.

“I was thinking about the events that lead up to this…to our current struggles and newfound relationship. Just wondering if we…if I did anything differently in the pas, would our situations be any better?”

“Is that what you regret? Not noticing Baras’s treachery sooner?” Idly, Goneril stroked the back of her lover’s hand, enjoying the vivid contrast between deep crimson and a soft orange.

Zia nodded, resting her chin on Goneril’s head, brown hair tickling her skin. “That and not telling her earlier how I felt, Goneril. We both could have died during those surprise assaults you would have never known how much I wanted you. And in return, I wouldn’t have known that you reciprocated those feelings.”

Usually, Zia wasn’t the type to dwell so much on the past but recent events and their quiet alone time together must have made her pensive. To be frank, Goneril often had pondered the change in their fortune (or misfortune, right now) and what could have betided if they both had come clean earlier on how they truly felt about one another. Regardless, they were together and this time, they would battle their enemies and problems together.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been doing the same,” she admitted. “Especially the last time we hung out before all this mess transpired. I was remembering how fun it was, teasing you and trying to get you to relax after another day of slaughter.”

Zia smiled fondly at the recollection. “And you tried to get me drunk too.”

“What? You had Corellian wine begging to be popped open!”

As the two of them chuckled, the tall Zabrak warrior planted a chaste kiss on her girlfriend’s head. “Is that what you remember most about the moment–the wine?”

Still smirking, the scarlet toned Zabrak shook her head. “No, it wasn’t wine. Rather, it was the realization that on that night, if you had asked me to stay, I would’ve.” She then tilted her head up to face Zia. “Just thought you should know.”

There was a brief bout of silence before Zia leaned down to brush her lips on Goneril’s nose and then to her lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” And they spent the rest of the night relaxing in each other’s arms, lulled to sleep by the ship, hyperspace, and one another’s heartbeats.

#highjustices #Goneril x Zia #Ziadra Nalix #Goneril Sedae #Lord Goneril #SWTOR #Zabrak #OCs #Sith #sith warrior #sith inquisitor #Sorry for any errors it's late and I want to go to bed now

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xtruss · 4 years ago

Text

Soviet occupation of Afghanistan & the Kashmir Resurrection

Gen.Akhtar Abdur Rahman, who achieved what many, incld. Americans, thought was impossible. The man under whose leadership the Soviet superpower was beaten in the battlefield.

Discussion in 'Military History & Tactics' started by Foxtrot Alpha

— Pakistan Defence | August 18, 2020

Excerpts from the book "Avoiding Armageddon: America, India, and Pakistan to the Brink and Back "by Bruce Riedel.

TAMPA, FLORIDA, USA — is a long way from South Asia, but in mid-2011 I was there to attend a conference on Pakistan at the headquarters of the U.S. Central Command as a guest of General David Petraeus, the U.S. commander in Afghanistan. I was to review Pakistan's role in supporting the Taliban movement in Afghanistan. Only twenty-Five years ago the United States had fought a war against the Soviets in Afghanistan with Pakistan's help. President Ronald Reagan enjoyed Pakistan's support and won the war. Now, in the twenty-first century, America and Pakistan are on opposite sides in the Afghan civil war. It's a lot harder to envision success.

In December 1979 the Soviets invaded Afghanistan. Zia immediately turned to Saudi Arabia for help and assistance and dispatched General Akhtar, his ISI Chief, to Riyadh with an urgent message for the king: Zia wanted Saudi assistance to strengthen the mujahedin, the anti-communist rebels in Afghanistan. According to Prince Turki, King Fahd agreed immediately, and the ISI and Turki's General Intelligence Directorate (GID) began cooperating to aid the mujahedin. In addition, the Saudi-Pakistani partnership would soon acquire another partner, the CIA. Zia also turned to Pakistan's other longtime ally, China, and China responded with arms and advisers.

Bill Casey, President Reagan's CIA Chief, traveled repeatedly to Islamabad. On his first visit, he was shown a map of Afghanistan with a red triangle superimposed on it, pointing in the direction of the Indian Ocean, just three hundred miles from the Afghan-Pakistani border. This map was shown to many subsequent visitors. Pakistan was the real battlefield and Moscow’s real objective was access to the Indian Ocean and the Persian Gulf, the Pakistanis believed. Zia and Akhtar were determined to keep Moscow from getting a warm-water port on the Indian Ocean. As Casey’s deputy for operations in Afghanistan would later recount, Zia and Akhtar were believers. Without them, there would have been no Afghan war, and no Afghan victory.

The ISI set up training camps along the Durand Line, and Afghans began learning more sophisticated tactics and skills to help them wage jihad. The ISI included instructors from Pakistan's own special forces, the Special Services Group (SSG), an elite fighting force within the army. Overall, the ISI trained at least 80,000 to 90,000 Afghans in its camps.

The Directorate General Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) grew during Zia's years. His handpicked choice for Director General in 1979 was a Pashtun, Akhtar Abdur Rahman, better known simply as General Akhtar. Akhtar was a gifted intelligence officer and knew the Afghan world. He developed close working ties to many of the Afghan mujahedin leaders and organized them into political parties to give more legitimacy to their struggle. Akhtar also built strong ISI links to the CIA and the Saudis. He was the first Director General of the ISI that I met with. Akhtar vastly expanded the size and strength of the service. According to one estimate, the ISI went from a staff of 2,000 in 1978 to 40,000 employees and a billion-dollar budget by 1988. It came to be seen in Pakistan as omnipotent, listening in on every phone call, planting informants in every village, city block, and public space. Politicians were on its payroll. As one of Akhtar's deputies would later say, "The ISI was and still is probably the most powerful and influential organization in the country"; he also remarked that Akhtar was "regarded with envy or fear," even by his fellow officers.

The ISI took outside help, money, and arms for Afghanistan but was very careful to control how and when the various mujahedin factions received those assets. The man who ran the operation for General Akhtar for much of the 1980s was Mohammad Yousaf, the chief of the ISI's Afghan bureau. His two accounts of the war, Silent Soldier: The Man behind the Afghan Jehad and The Bear Trap: Afghanistan's Untold Story, are the single best pieces on the war from the Pakistani perspective. He describes the pipeline for aid as follows: As soon as the arms arrived in Pakistan, the CIA's responsibility ended. From then on it was our pipeline, our organization that moved, allocated, and distributed every bullet that the CIA procured.

From the earliest days of the Afghan war, Zia and Akhtar were planning for the next stage of the jihad, turning east toward India and Kashmir. The war against the Soviets was to be used as a means to help build the base for a Kashmiri insurgency. In other words, the Afghan war with the Soviets would also be a training ground to build the cadres for another jihad, against India in Kashmir. Some of the American assistance that was earmarked for the Afghan jihad would be diverted to the Kashmiri project. A series of clandestine meetings took place between the ISI and Kashmiri militants from Indian-controlled Kashmir. For security reasons, many of the meetings were held in Saudi Arabia. Zia and General Akhtar were involved directly in the effort. Finally, in 1983 some Kashmiris began to receive training in the ISI's Afghan camps. The ISI also reached out to other groups in Kashmir, including the Jammu Kashmir Liberation Front (JKLF), which had been founded in 1977 in Birmingham, England, by Kashmiris living in the United Kingdom. At first it was reluctant to take ISI help, but Akhtar opened talks with the group in 1984, and by 1987 JKLF militants were attending the ISI training camps.

Zia and Aktrar also avidly supported another front in India, the Sikh independence movement, which wanted to create a Sikh state called Khalistan. Sikh grievances dated back to partition, when some Sikhs argued for a third state in South Asia for themselves. When their unrest peaked in the 1980s, Pakistan unsurprisingly became a patron of the Sikh independence movement. The Sikh rebellion came to a disastrous climax in June 1984, when activists rook control of the Golden Temple in Amritsar. Indira Gandhi ordered the Indian army to regain control, but Operation Blue Star turned into a fiasco, in part because the army underestimated the firepower of the militants. After a twenty-four-hour firefight, at least 500 soldiers, militants, and innocent victims were dead; some believe that the casualties were much higher. A low-level insurgency in the Punjab would continue for another decade. It would also take Mrs. Gandhi's life.

The largest supply depot for the ISI's war in Afghanistan was located just outside Rawalpindi at the Ojhri ammunition storage facility. On April 10, 1988, it was racked by a ripping series of massive explosions as 10,000 tons of arms and ammunition went up in smoke. More than 100 people died in the disaster, including five ISI officers. In 2012 two former Indian intelligence service officers told me that it was their agency that had sabotaged the facility, to punish Pakistan for helping the rebels in the Kashmiri and Sikh revolts.

On August 17, I988, Zia and Akhtar, who had by then been promoted to Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and several other senior Pakistani generals as well as the U.S. ambassador to Pakistan, Arnold Raphel, were killed when their C-130 aircraft crashed shortly after takeoff. Immediately suspicions of foul play surfaced. No one ever claimed responsibility, but there are dozens of conspiracy theories about what happened and why. Akhtar’s ISI biographer, Yousaf, concluded that “the KGB or KHAD (its Afghan counterpart) had been involved but that the Americans were eager to see Zia and Akhtar killed now that the jihad was almost over." John Gunther Dean, then the U.S. ambassador to India, accused the Israeli secret service, Mossad, of killing Zia, possibly to stop the Pakistani bomb program. In the most recent study, based on interviews with many of the Pakistani air force officers who investigated the crash, Shuja Nawaz concludes that “many questions still remain” about why the plane crashed and why the investigation of the crash was so incomplete. Like much else in Pakistan’s history, this incident remains a mystery. One thing is certain: America does not kill its ambassadors or its allies’ leaders.

Bruce Riedel is senior fellow and director of the Brookings Institution. Riedel joined Brookings following a thirty-year career at the Central Intelligence Agency. He served as senior adviser to four U.S presidents on South Asia and Middle East, working as a senior member of the National Security Council. In 2009 President Obama made him chairman of a strategic review of American policy in Afghanistan and Pakistan.

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marylandprelawland · 5 years ago

Text

The Birth Of Asian Americans

By Charlotte Kim, Johns Hopkins University Class of 2021

June 24, 2020

With the celebration of Juneteenth just passed, I thought about another June 19thevent, one that occurred in 1982 and became the reason why I, and other Americans of Asian descent, call ourselves “Asian American.”That night, in Detroit, Michigan, a man was bludgeoned to death with a baseball bat. Why?His killers thought he was Japanese.

The victim was Vincent Chin, a 27-year-old man who would be considered Chinese American today but“Oriental” while he was alive.His killers were white autoworkers, Ronald Ebens and Michael Nitz. To create a clear picture of their motives, one must understand America in the 80s. Not only was Asian-based racism casual and rampant, there was a normalized disregard of Asian ethnic diversity and an accepted mindset of Asians as exotic, perpetual foreigners. On top of all that was Detroit’s economic climate.

In 1982, Detroit, which had housed the headquarters of the Big 3 auto makers (General Motors, Ford, and Chrysler) for decades, was at the height of a record-setting recession [1]. After the 1979 oil crisis caused gas prices to skyrocket, Americans, looking for smaller more efficient cars, turned to Japanese brands. One of every four cars sold in the U.S. was Japanese, causing anti-Japanese sentiment to grow, especially in Detroit where plants began to lay off tens of thousands of workers.Posters reading “Pearl Harbor II” depicted Japanese bombers dropping cars on North America [2]. Local unions sponsored events allowing workers to smash Japanese cars with sledgehammers at the cost of $1. Japanese cars were vandalized, their owners were shot at on the freeway, and casual anti-Japanese slurs abounded[3]. U.S. Representative John Dingell of Michigan claimed that the chief trouble hurting the auto industry was foreign competition, specifically “the little yellow people” [4].

Later that year, on June 19th, 1982, Ronald Ebens, a Chrysler foreman, took his stepson Michael Nitz, one of many assembly line workers recently laid off by Chrysler, to a strip club. They happened to sit in front of Vincent Chin and his friends, who were there to celebrate Chin’s bachelor party. Ebens was overheard saying racial slurs like “Chink” and Nip” and,eventually, “It’s because of motherfuckers like you that we’re out of work.” A fight broke out, and both parties were ejected from the bar. Ebens then grabbed a baseball bat from his car and started to chase Chin, who fled [5]. Ebens and Nitz drove around in pursuit of Chin for 30 minutes. When they finally found him in front of a McDonald’s, Nitz held down Chin while his stepfather hit Chin’s skull four times [3]. As his cerebral matter and blood pooled in front of him, Chin’s last words were, “It’s not fair.” He died in a hospital four days later, and instead of attending a wedding, his friends and family attended a funeral.

Ebens and Nitz didn’t deny that they had killed Chin, but their lawyers argued that what had happened was a bar brawl, not a hate crime [1]. On March 16, 1983, Wayne County Circuit Judge Charles Kaufman agreed with them; Ebens and Nitz were found guilty of manslaughter, a downgrade from their second-degree murder charge, and were each fined $3,000, $780 in court fines, and three years of probation. To this day neither man has spent a day in prison. Kaufman’s defense of his sentence was,

“These aren’t the kind of men you send to jail [5]. […] We’re talking here about a man who’s held down a job with the same company for 17 or 18 years, and his son who is employed and a part-time student. These men are not going to go out and harm somebody else. I just didn’t think that putting them in prison would do any good for them or for society. You don’t make the punishment fit the crime; you make the punishment fit the criminal” [6].

The outrage among the Asian American community was immediate, although people were unsure whom to turn to. Then, two weeks later,more than a hundred Asian Americans from towns surrounding Detroit met and formed American Citizens for Justice (ACJ)—the first explicitly Asian American grass-roots advocacy effort to extend nationally. Its top priority was to have Chin’s case become the first criminal civil rights case involving someone of Asian descent. [3]. Roland Hwang, co-founder of ACJ, explained that the Vincent Chin case was a wakeup call for anti-Asian racism. It “transformed a biracial discussion on race relations to be a multiracial one” [7].

Over the next few months, public outrage continued to grow. Protests led by ACJ and other groups spurred the U.S. Department of Justice to investigate and determine that Ebens and Nitz had violated Chin’s civil rights. Ebens was sentenced to 25 years in prison. According to Renee Tajima-Peña, a professor of Asian American studies at UCLA, “It was the first time Asian Americans were protected in a federal civil rights prosecution. […] Before that, Asian Americans were seen as not being a protected class” [5]. However, in September 1986, a federal appeals court overturned Ebens’ conviction and,in May 1987, he was cleared of all charges. Two months later, Ebens was ordered to pay $1.5 million to the estate of Vincent Chin [8], butas of 2015, Ebens hasn’t paid anything, and that amount has grown to more than $8 million [9].

Now, it may seem that the term “Asian American” originated from this turning point in history. However, it was created 14 years before Chin’s death in 1968 by two college students and even today is used secondarily to the more specific “Japanese,” “Thai,” etc., descriptive. Still, the term has power. Professor Daryl Maeda of the University of Colorado Boulder says that instead of describing family histories or personal identities, “Asian American” expresses the idea that “as Asian Americans, we have to work to fight for social justice and equality, not only for ourselves, but for all of the people around us.”

The cry for social justice and equality after Vincent Chin’s death forged a pan-Asian identity among once disparate groups.In the words of Helen Zia, co-founder of ACJ “…whether people wanted to feel like there was anything in common or not, they could not deny that if they looked that way, they could be killed, whether they were Japanese ethnically or not.” [9].

Before Chin’s death, this sense of pan-Asian identity even in cases of extreme racial injustice, was non-existent. In fact, to avoid being targeted by the same racism and exclusion facing other groups, different Asian communities stayed silent. When the Chinese Exclusion Act was set to be made permanent in 1902, Japanese immigrants didn’t protest. When people of Japanese descent were forced into internment camps during World War II, Chinese- and Korean-Americanswore buttons stating their ethnicity so as not be mistaken as Japanese (pictured below). The narrative is the same— the perceived injustice was being lumped together with another ethnic group rather than the injustice itself [9].

The term “Asian American” was created as a way to bring Asians into the American political conscience as a collective community (as well as a pushback against the derogatory blanket term, “Oriental”). According to Zia, “To the rest of America at the time, Asian people didn’t exist in the popular consciousness. […] They were like, ‘Oh, where did these people come from? What – they’re organizing, they have a voice, they’re talking about racism? What – they speak English?’ These were all the reactions we got…It was a teaching process” [9].

And it still is a teaching process.Although the diversity of Asian ethnicities in the United States needs to be respected and acknowledged, there is a common experience among all Americans of Asian ancestry of being lumped into one homogenous group facing prejudice and harassment. As a community, Asian Americans can come together to multiply their presence in the American conscience and thus shine light on the diversity of problems facing individual Asian ethnicities and strike down the idea of Asians as a homogenous, foreign, “model minority”.

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[1] Wu, Frank H. “How the racist killing of Vincent Chin sparked the Asian-American movement.” South China Morning Post, 20 June 2020, https://www.scmp.com/comment/opinion/article/3089541/how-racist-killing-vincent-chin-sparked-asian-american-movement.

[2] Counts, Glenn, et al. “Detroit: The New Motor City.” EDGE, Ethics of Development in a Global Environment, https://web.stanford.edu/class/e297c/poverty_prejudice/citypoverty/hdetroit.htm.

[3] Wu, Jean Yu-Wen Shen, and Chen, Thomas C. Asian American Studies Now: A Critical Reader. E-book, Rutgers University Press, 2010.

[4] Clines, Francis X., and Weaver Jr., Warren. “Briefing.” nytimes.com, New York Times, 16 Mar. 1982,https://www.nytimes.com/1982/03/16/us/briefing-253650.html.

[5] Little, Becky. “How the 1982 Murder of Vincent Chin Ignited a Push for Asian American Rights.” History.com, A&E Television Networks, 5 May 2020, https://www.history.com/news/vincent-chin-murder-asian-american-rights.

[6] Cummings, Judith. “Detroit Asian-Americans Protest Lenient Penalties for Murder.” nytimes.com, New York Times, 26 Apr. 1983,https://www.nytimes.com/1983/04/26/us/detroit-asian-americans-protest-lenient-penalties-for-murder.html.

[7] Wang, Frances Kai-Hwa. “Who is Vincent Chin? The History and Relevance of a 1982 Killing.” NBCNews.com, NBC Universal, 15 June 2017, https://www.nbcnews.com/news/asian-america/who-vincent-chin-history-relevance-1982-killing-n771291.

[8] “Vincent Chin Timeline.” Vincent Who?,Tony Lam Productions, https://www.vincentwhofilm.com/timeline/.

[9] Kandil, Caitlin Yoshiko. “After 50 years of ‘Asian American,’ advocates say the term is ‘more essential than ever’.” NBCNews.com, NBC Universal, 31 May 2018, https://www.nbcnews.com/news/asian-america/after-50-years-asian-american-advocates-say-term-more-essential-n875601.

[10] Wu, Frank H. “Why Vincent Chin Matters.” nytimes.com, New York Times, 22 June 2012, https://www.nytimes.com/2012/06/23/opinion/why-vincent-chin-matters.html.

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