#and they usually maintain a certain distance in order to leave room for their future romantic relationships

[ignitelimelight]

The more I realize I'm legit on the grey-ace/aro spectrum the more I 1. Struggle with the spelling of grey/gray 2. Really wish intimacy were more abundant in various forms than the socially acceptable partnered forms

[likesunsetorange]

from what i have outlined, this would be from the first chapter, it's a little long (~2.5k words) but i wanted to include the whole scene, so hope y'all enjoy! (also unedited so don't fight me if there's any typos lol)

anyways, happy new year's and i'm super excited to share this au with y'all this year!

cw: mentions of drugging a person (mostly just the benadryl thing lol)

Eren hated the club. 

Strobe lights irritated his eyes because they always caused him migraines; the pungent aroma of alcohol and the sensation of sweat clinging to his body always made him feel disgusted; and the excess amount of people, bodies crammed against one another, was enough to make his eye twitch with rage. 

Eren shouldn’t be here. He hated the club. He would never be here out of his own volition. Especially after 3 AM, when he should be fast asleep, sinking into the four hundred thread count sheets of Mikasa’s guest room bed, Caro tucked beside him taking up half the bed like she was a human and not a dog. 

But here he was shoving through crowds of drunken bodies, his head pounding, his vision blurry, and he was almost certain he was borderline hallucinating all because of her.

Eren tried to give Mikasa the benefit of the doubt—he pitied her situation, how could he not? A life that consisted of people constantly controlling your each and every move, and here comes yet another person that your family is forcing to do just that onto you. He tried to give Mikasa her space—he only made polite small talk in passing, accompanied her to her destinations of choice from an appropriate distance, and didn’t bother her whenever it wasn’t necessary. But despite his best efforts at trying to maintain the peace, her disdain for him was evident, she didn’t bother to hide it—from the constant scowls, her constantly exasperated demeanor, and the frequent insults she threw his away under her breath (Re: Jersey trash)—but at the very least, he hoped that she could to tolerate him eventually seeing as though Eren would be living with her for the foreseeable future, and it would both of their lives easier coexisting harmoniously. 

But hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Mikasa had made it abundantly clear that she felt she had been slighted. And even if Eren was only a pawn in her family’s doing, she wouldn’t partake in any of their little games, and if that meant Eren became collateral in the process, then so be it. 

Eren was partially to blame, he should have known better, Levi had warned him beforehand that Mikasa was not one to be trifled with, and he should’ve seen it coming from the shift from a mere displeasure by his presence to a sudden interest in his overall wellbeing.

Eren had been easily fooled by the way her usually razor-sharp steel eyes had finally looked at him with a softness he had yet to witness from her, leaving him in a little bit of a daze. The way her perfectly plush lips mouthed his name, different than anyone else ever had—the N at the end soft, almost as if she was omitting it all together. And how could he not feel the tiniest pang in his heart when her light grey eyes looked up at him with so much tenderness when she asked: “Eren, are you feeling okay?” 

Mikasa claimed she noticed his energy beginning to run low and she heard his sniffles increase over the last few days, the adjustment to the New York City air probably weighing heavy on his body—assuming it would only be a matter of days before he drew ill. And Mikasa seemed so sweet, so intensely saccharine, when she told him she’d cancel all her plans for the rest of the day, not wanting to force him out the house. 

Mikasa went the whole nine yards— ordered takeout for the two of them, even making conversation with him that was more than their usual small talk, seeming genuinely interested in Eren for once. He couldn’t help but admire her newfound amicability, hoping that at the very least they could be cordial despite her overall displeasure with the circumstances. He even found himself enjoying her presence, finally getting to take her in outside of the few glances he ever got in passing. Mikasa truly was something like no other—even in her cute pink silken pajamas, he couldn’t deny she had to be one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. But she was technically his boss, so he'd tuck those thoughts away and at least be thankful that God had taken his time to make someone like her.

Eventually, after a bit of arguing on her part, Mikasa sent him to bed with a handful of pills Eren didn’t bother to ask about the contents of, insisting he take medicine before he got any worse, even if he did feel okay. She bid him a good night and well wishes, placing a gentle caress to his arm, a soft look on her face before she even offered him an apology for how bad she had treated him over the last week. It seemed like things were finally looking up for the two of them, so Eren returned her kind looks and thanked her for all her help, going to sleep with the faintest hint of a smile on his face, lulled quickly to sleep by a medicine-induced haze despite it only being 8.

And so Eren couldn’t even be that mad—she had truly put on a class act—Mikasa had played him, and she had played him well. His mom always told him he was so easily flattered—a sucker for pretty women who bat their pretty lashes, gave him sweet smiles, and made him feel good—and Mikasa Ackerman had done so little for him to melt like putty into her hands. 

He found himself waking up in the middle of the night, almost incoherent, his vision plagued by small black spots and drenched in sweat. Eren struggled to maintain his balance as he stumbled through the house, Mikasa nowhere to be found, locating a box of Benadryl Extra Strength tucked away in one of the cabinets of Mikasa’s kitchen. Three tablets were missing, contrary to the recommended one tablet dosage, and Eren was certain that Mikasa had all the hopes those three little pills would have knocked him out for the remainder of the night.

It took all the concentration in Eren’s body, fighting against the exhaustion that plagued his body from all the medications coursing through his veins (how he managed to wake up he was still unsure) and the small black dots that danced across his vision, to try and figure out where Mikasa was. He somehow managed to log into her MacBook (her password thankfully being her birthday) and managed to track her phone to some club in SoHo. 

The anger began bubbling up within him as Hannes drove him to where Mikasa was, enraged at the fact that not only did she try and drug him, but she had put on a front, pretending to be nice, for the sole fact that she wanted to go out and party. Eren regret giving her the benefit of the doubt—Mikasa was exactly who he she showed herself to be, a spoiled rich girl who would do anything to get what she wanted.

So as Eren threaded through the crowd of people, scanning the masses for her. It was only a matter of time before he caught wind of her signature ribbon at the bar, the strobe lights making it gleam different shades of the rainbow. She turned around shortly after, his eyes meeting her gaze, her lips turning up in smugness at the sight of him before taking another sip of whatever pink concoction she had in her perfectly manicured hands, as if she was almost taunting him. Years of attending Catholic school lead Eren to have a preconceived notion that the devil was this depiction of all things evil—something that was worth cowering in fear at the sight of. After years of seeing depictions on and portrayals on TV and all the stories from myths and legends, Eren always believed the devil would be vicious and scary, but no, the devil isn’t some demon, or succubus alike.

No, the devil is 5’6”, wears shiny satin ribbons in her hair, drinks fruity pink cocktails, and sports a smile that’s so sickeningly sweet it could convince a man to do anything. And if Eren hadn’t been seething with anger, through vision that was clouded with Benadryl-induced hallucinations and scarlet colored anger, hell, he’d even say she was cute.

Eren was in front of her before he knew it, his larger figure caging her in between the bar, Mikasa looking up at him innocently, feigning on the side of ignorance to the situation.

“Hi, Eren,” she quipped, her lips still upturned, the pink of her lips sparkling under the strobe lights from whatever gloss she happened to be wearing. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” she added innocently, stirring her drink as if Eren’s presence was taking away from her fun.

Eren could feel his eye twitch, it had been so long since he had felt so angry, but it seemed as if in the week since she had met him, Mikasa had become an expert of just exactly how to get under his skin. He took a deep breath before he spoke, his jaw clenching through every word, wasting no time for her silly games. “We’re leaving, Mikasa.”

“You’re no fun, don’t you wanna stay a while? C’mon, Eren, loosen up a bit. I think you could use a break,” her free hand running along the slope of his arm. Eren could feel the chills run down his spine, but this wasn’t the time—he was angry, and he needed to focus.

“First you spend the entire week insulting me and treating me like absolute shit, then you pretend to be nice to me even bothering to give me a sorry ass apology, and then you drug me? And you couldn’t even bother to use something useful? Benadryl? Your parents are drowning in money, and you decide to knock me out with over-the-counter drugs?” His words coming out more in disbelief than in anger, his voice growing louder as he tried to speak over the music blaring through the speakers.

All Mikasa did was roll her eyes, setting her drink on the counter behind her, apparently growing bored of all her little games. “Sorry for being considerate and not drugging you with actual drugs, Eren. Next time I’ll remember to go for the hard stuff—don’t worry.”

“Glad you’re so sweet, Mikasa. I should be so thankful I have a boss as considerate as you,” he glared. “Now let’s go.”

“No,” she responded, crossing her arms, her eyes returning to the signature glare Eren had grown accustomed to over the past week.

Eren could feel the migraine settling in, the noises and lights being the starting point, and Mikasa’s failure to comply being the cherry on top. He closed his eyes and took one last breath, trying to prevent the anger from getting the best of him. Eren took one step forward, putting only a few inches in between him and Mikasa, forcing her back against the bar counter. His face was anything but amused, but Mikasa seemed to not be relenting.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Mikasa, your choice. Now let’s go,” he repeated, but Mikasa only doubled down at his words, standing firm in her place, steel eyes locking with green, her mouth pinched into a scowl.

Eren shook his head, upset about the circumstances as a whole, but also that it had come to this. With a swift movement, Eren had his arms wrapped around Mikasa’s waist, lifting her up onto her shoulder. His arms moved to secure her legs in place, her head and arms hanging behind him.

Mikasa let out a shriek as Eren made his way towards the exit a string of expletives coming out of her mouth. Bystanders watched in confusion, unsure whether or not to interfere in the pair’s altercation. Eren simply waved off their concerned looks, mouthing She’s drunk, to which most people nodded in understanding and resumed their drinking and dancing.

“You fucking jackass—let me go!” Mikasa yelled from above him, squirming in his tight grip as he approached the club exit. “Plus I need my fucking coat it’s fucking freezing outside!” 

“Should’ve thought about that before you fucking drugged me. And tough shit, you have daddy’s credit card, just buy yourself a new one, princess.”

Eren readjusted her on his shoulder, his grip only tightening through Mikasa’s attempted escapes. He gave the bouncer a nod as he walked out, the man apparently unphased by Mikasa’s antics. “I swear to God, Eren. Put—” Hit. “Me—” Hit. “Down—” A final blow. 

He winced in pain as Mikasa’s small hands threw punch after punch against his back, her hits stronger than he could have anticipated. But Eren could see the car, only fifty feet away, and he wasn’t willing to let her win, at least not this round.

“What did we learn today? We don’t do what? C’mon Mikasa, enlighten me. Please,” he replied, ignoring her requests, and pretending she wasn’t leaving palm shaped welts along the length of his back. He took her silence as a means for him to continue, “We don’t sneak out of the fucking house when there are active hits against our family members, and we don’t drug our body guards, just so we can get drunk at the fucking club. Hope this could help.”

“You’re a sick bastard, go back where the fuck you came fro—” her words cut off by Eren roughly placing her back onto the ground. She stumbled as she tried to regain her footing on her heeled boots, her hands instantly going to shield herself from the cold New York air. Eren lugged off his jacket, roughly placing it on her, not wanting to hear anything else come out of her mouth.

“Are you done with all the insults, or do you wanna stand in the cold and keep yelling at me?”

“Fuck you, Eren.”

“You’re not really my type, princess.”

Mikasa scowled before releasing a pained huff, throwing his jacket onto the floor. She stomped the few feet to the car door Eren held open for her, sending one last glare his way before she slammed the door in his face. 

The entire drive home, he could hear her muttering how much she hated her family, how she was pissed off at the fact they hired him, and how much she hated the pathetic excuse of a mall cop they hired from sorry ass Jersey to be her bodyguard. And rather than take offense to any of her insults, all Eren could think about was how much that feeling of hatred was beginning to feel extremely mutual.

[aggravatetheaxe]

Hey! Saw your post and saw you said you were upsettie spaghetti so I wanted to cheer you up!

Slashers who stop everything they’re doing because their “My S/O needs me” senses are tingling and go to their rescue to comfort their angry s/o?

I was hoping to come up with A way for you to get your emotions out through your writing- 😅

Hope you feel better! 🖤

I've never done a post in this style before so hopefully I do okay! I think I covered pretty much all the slashers I write for so far (I didn't do Billy Lenz because I still need to read the novelization). I may have gone way overboard, so if I do these in the future, I'll probably just pick a few instead of doing the whole roster 😅 (or you can pick for me). But doing this much work did distract me!

Above the cut:

Bo Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

Lester Sinclair

Included below the cut:

Michael Myers (OG)

Jason Voorhees

Leslie Vernon

Thomas Hewitt

Bubba Sawyer

Brahms Heelshire

Erik ("The Phantom")

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Courtney Dwayne Delmont (OC slasher)

Kathleen Montgomery (OC slasher)

Masterlist

***

Bo Sinclair

Despite being autistic, Bo is very in tune with peoples auras and body language. He has to be to manipulate and deceive people with any modicum of success. He's trained himself when it comes to these things; even besides masking or manipulation, he needed to be keenly aware of when his parents were in Bad Moods so he could either avoid them or prepare himself.

The mood he's probably best at when it comes to this, for those reasons, is anger. He can smell anger a mile away. So if you're fuming, you better believe he notices.

At first he's annoyed and will demand to know what your problem is. He's not a very tolerant person, and he can be a bit of a hypocrite. He's allowed to have big, messy feelings, but when it comes to others having big, messy feelings ... he's not so comfortable with that. He gets overwhelmed.

Once he realizes that this is more than an attitude problem, he'll take it much more seriously. And assuming you're not mad at him, he'll want the rundown on the whole situation from beginning to end. He wants all the dirt.

He'll let you rant, and honestly, he'd think you being this angry (when it's not directed at him, but even still sometimes) is kind of sexy. And don't expect him to shut his mouth, either; he'll be ranting right along with you, affirming you and insulting whomever/whatever you're angry about.

He doesn't wanna cuddle. He genuinely thinks you can't cuddle anger away. He'll put on some loud-ass music and let you vent your frustration however you prefer. Maybe suggest a long drive down to the lake or into town or just ... picking a direction and going. He has fantasies of running away from his anger sometimes. He knows how it is.

Depending on what you're angry about, it could definitely get to the point where he's angrier about the situation than you are. And if it really hurt you, he will not let it go as long as he lives. The best he will ever do is maintain a grudging neutrality or distance from the person/situation that made you angry.

He's very protective. If you're angry at someone you need to maintain a relationship with, you're going to have to keep an eye on Bo to make sure he doesn't deliver revenge for you behind your back. If it's something he can solve, he'll do it, so if you don't want him running his mouth, watch him.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent is in the same boat as Bo when it comes to sensing auras, though his handle on body language and facial expressions is not as keenly honed. While Vincent was not physically abused as brutally or as often as Bo, this wasn't because of some sterling quality he had that Bo lacked. He was always The Good One because he saw what his parents did to The Bad One and knew he needed to protect himself. He tried not to do anything that might provoke his parents.

You can feel anger before a fight like you smell ozone before a storm. Vincent is attuned to the feeling not just because of his parents but because of Bo's temper, too. Because of this, like Bo, he can very accurately sense anger in particular.

His initial reaction is to observe you, gauging if you need time to cool off. If you need space, Vincent is the Sinclair for you. He's used to being quiet and deflecting and riding out anger.

However, once he realizes that your anger is not directed at him or isn't explosive enough to become a problem for him, he's concerned. Rather than asking what happened, he will ask if you're okay, and leave it up to you whether you'll tell him about it or not.

If you vent, he'll sit and listen patiently, maybe even thoughtfully working on a sculpture while you rant. He's not judgemental and he can be very emotional himself, so you could say the most ridiculous, dramatic things and he wouldn't even bat an eye. Let out all your messy, destructive thoughts and feelings. Just try not to throw or punch anything; that's when he shuts down.

If you decide you just want comfort, or decide you need comfort after ranting, art is his first suggestion. It may seem cold to you at first, that his instinct isn't to hold you or kiss you but rather to redirect you to a project - once you got to know him, however, you'd know that's his most genuine way to show he cares. Redirecting to something creative calms him down more than platitudes ever could, and he wants that for you. He's nonjudgmental about the art you create as well, even if it's objectively terrible. It's not about the quality.

He won't turn you down if you need physical affection, however. His twin is extremely tactile, so it wouldn't be the first time he held someone after a breakdown. He prefers to do this if he's certain you won't lash out physically, but if you were in a really bad way and needed to be touched, he'd do it regardless.

Lester Sinclair

Lester witnessed his parents' anger, but it was usually indirectly; if Bo was the Bad One and Vincent was the Good One, he was the Overlooked One. He's not a perfect person, probably not even a good person, but of the three brothers, he's the most normally socialized. He isn't trained to be tuned into everyone's every shifting mood in order to survive.

It takes Lester a little longer to pick up on your anger than his brothers, but not too much longer. It takes him a couple tries at trying to talk to you or get your attention before he realizes something is really wrong.

His first reaction is to get upset. He soaks up emotions like a little sponge, so he's suddenly cranky, too. He also jumps to conclusions and assumes that you're angry with him, and he does not take rejection well. He might be bitter and passive aggressive. You being angry just makes him want to go in another room and not be around you, and yet at the same time, he wants your reassurances. It's messy and sad.

Once he realizes - either through observing you or through you communicating with him - that you're mad at another person or situation, then he'll feel comfortable enough to approach you and ask you about it. You'll definitely need to reassure him that you're not mad at him though.

If you wanna rant, he'll take you on a long drive and let you vent your heart out to him. He won't be quite as aggressive as Bo, but he'll be on your side, frowning with disapproval, telling you "Ya can't fix stupid." If you want only comfort or need comfort after venting, he feels much more equipped for that. He'll put something relaxing in the VHS or let you play his old Super Nintendo, get you a beer, just let you chill out. And he'll let you win at Doctor Mario.

If the situation is something really serious, you best believe he'll be talking to his brothers about it the second he gets a chance. He may be a sweet guy, but he can be real nasty, and he doesn't fuck around when it comes to you. You might have to keep an eye out to make sure he doesn't tell someone off or punch out someone's lights.

Michael Myers (OG)

In 1978, Michael is not very in tune with any emotions besides fear, and even then he only really understands it in an abstract way, as his condition and upbringing haven't really been conducive to him learning about emotions. Unless you're screaming in terror, have tears running down your face, or are shouting angrily, he really can't read your moods. Without any obvious change to how you normally act or look, there's a huge chance he might just not notice if you're angry. He spends a lot of time in his own little world.

In 2018, even though he's spent over 50 years institutionalized, Michael has had time to take in the world, and he's seen a lot more. He understands fear much more than he did when he was 21, but what he understands most of all is anger. His anger fuels him. He would pick up on yours right away and be curious, though he wouldn't verbalize it.

If you tell him how you feel, he'll take note of it. If he witnesses you doing something destructive because of your anger, he'll simply observe. He would be fascinated with this thing you're doing, because it's not something you normally do, and though he might not notice emotions, he certainly notices routine and pattern. Either way, you'll have to tell him how you feel, because he'll simply watch you otherwise.

One thing that can be said for Michael is that he's a good listener. He may not internalize everything you say, but he will remember what he thinks is important. You may be surprised; he may remember tiny little details that seem inconsequential to you but loom large in his mind.

Unless you were caused serious physical or mental harm, he would not be angry on your behalf. He would, however, do nothing to assuage your anger. He thinks it would be kinda neat and interesting to see you snap. He's not 100% sure why you don't just do it.

In 1978, he won't be much help beyond listening to you, but he would be curious to see what you do to vent your anger. You may find him by your side more often, observing you. He may also want to find and observe the object of your anger, especially if it's a person. In 2018, he would, in his own way, suggest you solve the problem by murdering someone/something. He's insatiable, but killing is the closest he's ever come to satisfaction. You should try it.

Jason Voorhees

Out of all of the slashers, Jason is the most likely to actually literally sense your anger, especially if you're psychically sensitive/powerful like Tina Shepard. I'm talkin'—assuming you have a pre-established relationship—he'll be doing something else and just get this itch that tells him you're out there somewhere, pissed off.

Obviously this is untenable. As long as he's not super busy or Pamela has other plans, Jason will stomp his way through the woods to get back to you, regardless of the urgency of your anger. If Pamela doesn't approve, well, he'll let a little anger go and assume you're okay. If he suspects you may be in danger, though, he's sprinting regardless of what Mom says. There's time for both things, Ma!

The first thing he'll do when he returns to you is scan your dwelling, then you, making sure nothing is broken. At that point, you'd probably be able to sense his confusion even without him signing. Jason doesn't experience emotions quite like a human anymore, and he's quite tactile besides, so a lack of tangible or visible clues as to why you're upset would trip him up for a second.

He doesn't want to comfort you at first, he wants to know what's wrong. He'll listen to you vent only long enough to understand the situation and identify his target. His immediate next move would be to eliminate the problem. You'll definitely have to hold him back, and it may take a bit of convincing. Earthly consequences don't really apply to him.

Before comfort comes blowing off steam, for you and for him. His first choices would be mangling some trees (you can pretend it's for firewood) or skipping/throwing stones into the lake. You're welcome to join him if those things calm you down; watching him get his stone to skip like 11 times on Crystal Lake may make you feel better, at least.

You might hang out there for hours before he suddenly decides it's time to go home. He'll do what he can to make your comfortable or stay out of your way while you make yourself comfortable, then comfort you as you please. His go-to choice is always foot or hand massages.

Leslie Vernon

Leslie is extremely observant and surprisingly analytical given how silly he is in the day to day. His intuition makes it pretty easy for him to read people, but especially you, since you two are so close. Especially-especially if you're his Survivor Girl (gender neutral term of course). You two are in sync, so he knows if something's up. Maybe even before you fully figure it out.

God, you're so hot when you're angry, you really are. He almost wants to let you scream and holler and go nuts. But he prefers you only get angry like that at him, especially if you're his Survivor Girl, so his first move is to comfort you or talk you down to a place where you can be comforted. He'll speak to you calmly and rationally, reassuring you and touching you if you wanna be touched—on your upper arms or shoulders or face, or with one arm around your back.

He doesn't just want to comfort you, though, he wants to calm you down enough that you can tell him what happened. Even if you claim you don't want to talk about it, he will coax it out of you eventually. He's gotta know what got you so upset. It's his business to know everything about you!

Assuming you're angry at someone/something that isn't him, he'll talk it through with you. If you're upset about an argument with someone, he has the capacity to see it from the other side, but ultimately, he's there for you. He'll let you bitch as much as you want, still touching you, and he'll be disgusted and/or disappointed with the situation.

Above all, though, what he wants is to see you smile again. The only worries on your mind should be the ones he comes up with, and man, he's not even halfway done grooming the next batch of unlucky teenagers. He'd pat your face or touch your hair and tell you to cheer up, and probably defuse the situation with a stupid quip or joke. Take you out somewhere fun, maybe.

Once you were cheered up, he'd humbly suggest you solve your problem with a little murder. "I mean, I know killing's not really your thing—you're really good at it, though, a talent! You know that..." Pause, considering you. "You want me to do it? 'Cause I can clear my schedule for the rest of the night." If you decline, he'd be like "Suit yourself" but may or may not still murder whoever upset you. If you agree, he'd be super excited to make a romantic night of it. His mind would be going a million miles an hour planning everything out.

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy knows anger when he sees it. Not only does he have loads of internalized anger, he's been on the receiving end of it plenty. He's far too large to be scared of anyone in a physical sense anymore, but he's been shouted at countless times. To know when to shut up and do as he's told versus arguing back, he's learned to gauge intensity and direction of anger, and he well knows that anger can be redirected to him.

So, he instantly recognizes your mood, but it might be a while before he approaches you. When he does approach, he'll let you decide what to do, whether that's throwing your arms around him or banging your fists on his chest to vent your anger. You won't hurt him.

Eventually, once you're all hugged or cried or screamed out, he'll wrap his arms around you and give you a reassuring squeeze. There's no need to tell Tommy what's wrong—he won't ask unless you're obviously in serious distress or injured—but if you decide to speak, he'll listen, brows drawn tightly the whole time. He's thoughtful about the situation.

If you're mad at someone in his family, there isn't much he can do for you besides comfort you and assure you that whoever upset you—Hoyt, probably—didn't mean what they said. If you were hurt physically, it would be another story, but his family gets in shouting matches all the time.

Rather than offering help, he'd wait for you to request it of him. Whatever you ask, shy of hurting his family, he will do. Murder someone? No problem. Make you some food? You got it. Bring you a blanket? Sure. Give you some quiet alone time? That's fine, too.

If you need to vent, he's got plenty of ways to get out your frustration. Plenty of farm work to do, or you could work on something around the house with him. He might suggest knitting or sewing or some other handicraft you enjoy. It always makes him feel better to buckle down and use his hands for something.

If you're still preoccupied/upset by the time you two bed down, or heaven forbid the next morning, then he starts taking it more seriously. Something that disturbs you for that long is bad news. He'll watch you carefully the next couple days to see how you're doing, waiting for you to need him for something.

Bubba Sawyer

Like Tommy, Bubba has been on the receiving end of anger many, many times, so he's familiar with what it looks and feels like. Despite his size, he's still susceptible to physical violence at the hands of his loved ones, so he's very wary of anger.

However, he doesn't have a female presence in his life like Luda Mae, who expresses her anger through passive aggression—so, he's more used to shouting and screaming. If you aren't prone to screaming and shouting, it might take a little bit for him to realize you're not just sad or upset, you're angry.

Bubba will be over you. He'd give anyone else their space because he'd be afraid of retaliation, but you're his special person, and he's pretty sure you're not going to hurt him. He'll touch your hair, your arms, your wrists; he'll babble as he tries to figure out what's wrong. He just wants to comfort you and let you know everything is all right.

If it's too much or you're overwhelmed and you snap at him, he'll ease back. He'll blubber like a kicked puppy, but he won't give up. He'll still try to comfort you, just in other ways, such as getting you a comfort item or article of clothing, or maybe some food. And boy will he helicopter.

There's no need to tell Bubba what's wrong. In fact, it might be better if you didn't; if it's something he can't fix, it would do nothing but majorly stress him out. If it was one of his family members who upset you, as with Tommy, he wouldn't be able to do much. Even if you were hurt, he's just not in a position to stand up for you. That fact would absolutely kill him, though. He'd end up getting even more upset than you.

He doesn't know what help to offer you beyond comfort, but like Tommy, if you requested something specific, he'd try to carry out your wishes. He'll also try to cheer you up with some music and dancing, or just being silly like you like.

Need to blow off steam? He's got plenty of coping mechanisms! Bubba's idea of a perfect de-stress session is turning up the radio and getting lost in crafts. He's got lots of supplies, mostly to create clothing and accessories, and you're special, so you can have your pick. A drive and the radio might be nice, too. If neither of those appeal to you, he'll try cooking or baking with you. He loves sharing the kitchen with someone.

If none of that works and you're still upset, be prepared, because he's gonna be an anxious mess until you're better.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is somewhat familiar with other people's anger. He certainly has a whole fountain of internalized anger brewing just beneath the surface, but that's different. He knows that when Mummy is angry, she yells and cries, and when Daddy is angry, he seethes and stews. The former would be obvious to him, but the latter would take him a few minutes to be quite sure about. You're not acting how you usually do. Are you being stern or are you angry? Are you cross with him?

He does not have a lot of empathy for other people, so if your anger gets in the way of his routine or the attention he wants, he'll be irked, cranky, sad. Not necessarily at you—though that is possible—but the situation in which you find yourselves.

Much like Bo, he's allowed to have big, messy feelings, but it makes him uncomfortable and scared when other people have those feelings. He might even hide from you for a while, especially if you screamed and cried.

Once he realizes something is really wrong and you're not mad at him, however, he'll start thinking of ways to cheer you up so things can go back to normal. He hates having his routine interrupted; he's very particular. And he cares for you, so seeing you in distress is very scary and uncomfortable for him.

He'll start by fetching you something you like—something manageable for him like your favorite juice or a sandwich, or if you have a special item or article of clothing, that. He's quite shy, though, and like I said, he'll probably be hiding, so he'll leave it somewhere he knows you'll find it (on the bed, outside your door, on your desk, etc.)

If that doesn't calm you down and your anger is really getting in the way of his routine, or otherwise making him uncomfortable, he'll finally make an appearance. Very bashful and timid at first, using his little boy voice. "What's wrong, Y/N? Did something bad happen?"

If it's something that can't be helped, he'll suggest you do something together to take your mind off it (most likely something he likes to do). He may even be coaxed into taking a walk around the grounds, though he doesn't like to leave the manor at all, so you'd have to convince him. He prefers quiet playtime, maybe some coloring books or loud music to vent your emotions. It would intrigue him to see someone else use his toys to calm down. As long as you recognized he was being very nice, sharing them.

If it was an argument you had with someone, he would want more information. Are they likely to leave you alone, or will they come to the manor? Will he have to deal with them? Because it's scary, but he'll do it for you.

If, for some reason, none of those things work, he may cry or throw a fit. Either way, he'll be frustrated. Adult Brahms may make an appearance and try to help you in more Adult ways.

Erik

Though he lives five cellars beneath an opera house now, Erik hasn't always been entirely reclusive. Even these days, when he can stomach it, he sometimes goes out to see the world. As a younger man, he observed people's lives and moods with a hungry fascination (that has now mostly been replaced by melancholy and longing and bitter anger). Like several of the other slashers here, he's had to train himself to sense fury to protect himself. He's also incredibly wrathful, so you could call him an expert!

He has a very keenly honed sense when it comes to you specifically, since he's watched you so much. He notices the change in your demeanor immediately.

If you know him as the "Angel of Music," his voice will appear to you once you're alone, asking you what's wrong and assuring you you can confide in him—he will insist you tell him, though. "There are to be no secrets between us, Y/N." He will listen without interjection as you vent your heart out, and when you're done, soothe you. Don't let his calming voice deceive you, though; behind that mirror, he's seething, planning to take matters into his own hands.

If you know him as Erik, he will go to you the second he recognizes the shift in your mood and take you from what you're doing, regardless of your wishes. He'll sit you down, kneeling before you with your hands in his, and gaze into your eyes, imploring you to tell him what's wrong. He'll absolutely allow you physical comfort, but he will also absolutely insist you tell. He'll need reassurance that you're not angry at him, because that thought would break his heart.

He will let you vent however you wish. You could have the most dramatic breakdown ever—throwing things, beating your fists on his chest, wailing—and he wouldn't judge you. He would be awfully concerned, though.

Will be 110% on your side. You are his poor little meow meow. "My poor love, my poor Y/N!" He is beside himself with sympathy for you and you only, and is very offended on your behalf.

He will always suggest music as an outlet for your anger, but he will have taken note of your other hobbies and interests as well. He'll fetch your things for you without being asked, as long as it won't separate him from you for very long. If you'd rather just have comfort, that's fine, too. He could hold your hand and caress your face for hours on end under normal circumstances, so no problem there. He may also suggest a little time on the surface, if you normally live in his home. Fresh air will do you both good, he reasons, and he enjoys spending time with you where others can witness it. It fills him with pride and love.

Otherwise, he's at your service for any other soothing activities you need. A calming bath, some sweets, shopping, anything. Perhaps avoid asking for any sexual contact, however. First of all, being asked directly makes him very skittish and nervous; second of all, his method of love-making (when you can coax him) is very intimate and tender, which may be tedious if you're in an angry mood.

Unless the situation is extremely serious or dire, his first priority is making sure you're soothed. Once that duty is fulfilled, however, he is absolutely angrier about it than you are. If it's not that serious, he won't skip straight to killing, if only because he knows it upsets you. He will definitely be writing an extremely strongly worded letter, however. If someone slighted you seriously, they're getting threatened. If someone hurt you physically, they're meeting the Punjab lasso.

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Deacon definitely knows when people are angry. His step-mom was a passive-aggressive laundry-folder and his dad was a storming out of the house kinda guy; when the two of them were together, they were all hushed but heated arguments at night when they thought he couldn't hear them, or else extremely embarrassing passive-aggressive arguments in public. Growing up, he found himself around a lot of angry people. And there's no shortage of anger in him, either.

So yeah, Deacon knows when people are pissed, and he knows when people are pissed at him. The thing is, he just thinks it's fucking hilarious. He was that kid that would goad peers and teachers just to be an asshole and had virtually no friends as a result. He's a menace on the internet, too: a horrible troll for no reason, stirring the pot even when he doesn't have a stake in the argument. He's trained himself to find people's weak spots so he can strike at them. He does it to make himself feel more in control of his life and his own anger.

So when you're ticked off, he's gonna notice the change immediately. If you made a vent post on social media, he probably knows you're angry before you even see him. He follows all your social media (even if you don't realize it) and checks it constantly. He'd call you out of curiosity to ask what happened. He's open about his stalking tendencies: "I saw your post, babe, who do I need to stab?"

If you otherwise come home angry, he'll be up on his feet, following you around the house and pestering you, trying to get you to tell him what's wrong. If you try to hug him, he won't push you away, but he'll be distracted, trying to needle answers out of you the whole time.

There's no question in his mind as to whether or not you're angry at him. He just assumes you're not; he has a pretty good handle on how you act when you're angry at him specifically.

He'll let you rant all day if you want. You could talk about the shit that's pissed you off for hours and he'd still listen. Outwardly, he might poke you a bit and play devil's advocate for the other side of the argument, if there is one. This is purely for the purposes of being a little shit.

Internally, he's already going down his pre-murder checklist. If it was someone at work, they're dead. Someone in the neighborhood, dead. Online? It'll take a couple days, but they're dead. Even if you're not angry at anyone in particular, just a situation, he'll find someone to menace. He'd walk through fire for your approval.

He's not good with soft, emotional comfort, so instead he'll try to think of something to help you let off steam. His go-to is something competitive, especially if it involves you chasing each other. A Nerf or water gun war, a PVP game with you on opposite sides. He'll put up a good fight, but you always kick his ass.

Once the immediate situation is addressed and you've ranted your heart out to him, he can't keep his hands off you. "Seeing you all pissed off drives me crazyyyyyy." He's grinning, brown eyes sparkling. "Come onnnnn ... I'll get it off your mind!"

Courtney Dwayne Delmont (OC)

Courtney is a hunter of all manner of game, so he's used to interpreting non-verbal cues and body language—when an animal is in distress, when an animal is about to attack, etc. His grandfather was a very angry man, as well, in a simmering sort of way. He would seethe about something before suddenly delivering one decisive strike. Courtney himself is not a particularly angry man, unless some prey is really giving him a hard time, but he can read your body.

If you come home angry, he'll stop in the middle of what he's doing and watch you, still and quiet, just confirming his suspicions. If you leave the room he's in to go collapse on the sofa or something, he'll follow you, looming over you and waiting for you to tell him what's wrong. He's patient.

If you want to vent, he'll sit and listen thoughtfully, doing something with his hands while you speak—probably cleaning his gun or some other weapon. He doesn't look at you. He wouldn't demand greater context to the situation but he would ask "Why?" and "Who?" until he understood Enough.

If you want comfort, he'll sprawl on the couch and let you lay on top of him. He'll probably pull a blanket on top of you to try and encourage a nap. If the nap doesn't make you feel better, he's feeding you protein. Do you like homemade jerky?

Sex is also on the table (not literally ... unless). He's found it's a great way to blow off steam, and he's more than happy to make all worries, troubles, and other thoughts go away for a little bit. Expect that to be the rest of your night, though, because he doesn't do quickies.

Generally, he trusts you to handle your own shit, so he would be more focused on you than whatever made you feel the way you do. However, if days passed and you were still angry/upset/sad, or if it plunged you into a breakdown or was an otherwise extremely serious situation ... just give him a target. It's up to you, but if you tell him to take the shot, it'll be quick and clean. If you're unable to make the decision, he'll decide for you without hesitation.

Kathleen Montgomery (OC)

I'm still developing her so this one won't be as in-depth and is subject to change.

Kath makes it her business to know everything about you. Chances are she's seen you explode screaming while stalking you ... chances are, if you've been in a relationship for a while, she's made you explode screaming. She knows what you look like when you're angry. Besides, she's strong for her size, but she often has to take down people who are much bigger and stronger than her; she uses manipulation and trickery to help ease that divide, so she's good at reading people.

Like Deacon, she also monitors all your social media, so if you made a vent post, she already knows you're in a shitty mood before you come home. Unlike Deacon, she doesn't tell you how she knows, so you're left to assume she's just all knowing. Considering her god complex, that works for her.

She'd probably text you to come home, and she expects you to answer. If you're unable to come home, she'll call you to ask what's wrong.

Once you're together, she wants to know everything about the situation. Even as you're speaking, she's already on her phone or laptop, looking up the people involved. Instead of getting mad on your behalf, she laughs. She's a fan of emphasizing how pathetic or weak the opposition is.

She takes your feelings on the subject seriously, but everyone else in the situation? Insects. Not even worthy of your time or concern, let alone hers. You're obviously in the right here (even if you're not). She'll tell you as much, and say some pretty intense, over-the-line things about whomever/whatever you're angry at.

Overall, however, she's calm and collected about the situation. Your bout of anger is a chance to get you to be reckless with her. She'll do your hair and makeup and dress you up nice, then take you out. Fast driving, drinking, baiting people at bars, menacing neighborhoods ... maybe a little killing, if you'd like.

***

Masterlist

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s R&S - Folded Time

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (折叠的时光) which has not been released in EN!🍒

This R&S accompanies the Ch 37 karma, but it doesn’t contain spoilers for future content as it depicts the events leading up to Gavin reuniting with MC in Ch 2 :>

[ Chapter One ]

When Gavin appears in the office of the Public Security Bureau of Loveland City, everyone’s eyes fall on him either curiously or cautiously -

His light-coloured denim jacket is left open in a casual manner. Brown hair is scattered in front of his forehead, revealing a pair of stubborn and intractable eyes. Even though he isn’t looking at anyone, there is a palpable tension.

No matter how one looks at him, his entire person, from top to bottom, is incompatible with this place.

A few days ago, Gavin appeared in the Public Security Bureau of Loveland City, and things happened so suddenly that there wasn’t even a suitable uniform provided for him. As such, he was the only person in the office wearing regular clothes, which further cemented the view that others had of him as a "child of an official”. Gavin didn't put a stop to it. To put it another way, such an understanding was even more beneficial to his original objective.

Gavin doesn’t seem to realise that he’s the centre of everyone’s attention as he walks to the seat temporarily assigned to him.

At this moment, a young man in the police station takes the opportunity to go over, placing a thick bag of files on his desk. As though there’s a show to watch, he speaks up. "Officer Gavin, the chief said that you’ll be taking over this case." Gavin takes the bag of documents and looks at it. Then, he nods, indicating that the other party could leave.

Not hearing the questions and requests for help as imagined, the young man is momentarily stunned. Gavin lifts his head and gives him a sweeping glance, his tone indifferent. “Anything else?”

"N-no." The young man who was planning to find fault with him shivers inexplicably, then walks away in embarrassment. The surrounding gazes also disappear, and Gavin turns back to the case in his hand.

A few days ago, a woman made a report at a sub-bureau that she had “teleported”. According to her, she was walking home as usual, but when she passed by a certain place, she suddenly arrived at an unfamiliar plaza ten kilometers away - as if the distance in between was folded.

After this case was investigated, it was shelved aside temporarily due to a lack of evidence and leads. But over the next few days, different victims made reports to various sub-bureaus in succession. Hence, this strange case was finally transferred to the general bureau, and it has now been handed into Gavin’s hands. 

It doesn’t take long for Gavin to come to a conclusion - this crime involves an Evolver. After flipping through the scattered case reports, he taps his fingers on the desk, then stands up abruptly, casually telling the person next to him, "I’m heading on a mission.”

The police officer next to him is given a fright. When he looks up, he sees a back profile retreating with a free and easy poise. He can’t help but mutter, “As expected, people with special connections get special treatment. Tsk tsk tsk, how easygoing.”

-

[ Chapter 2 ]

A week ago, in an abandoned building, the elevators that were still in operation descended at a constant speed into the ground.

The lights on top of the elevator flickered slightly due to unstable electrical currents. Before the signal disappeared completely, Gavin reported the current situation through the headset. The moment the elevator door opened, he drew the gun at his waist and was the first to step out.

Borrowing the faint light from the elevator, Gavin scanned the surroundings vigilantly. When a member of the STF turned on the power switch, the cold white light illuminated the entire area, making everything in the laboratory visible - perhaps there was a hasty retreat. The room was in a mess. Many documents were not taken away or destroyed in time, and debris was scattered around.

Gavin's gaze swept across the documents, walking straight to the host computer in the corner of the room. Someone had already cracked the password and was recovering the destroyed files.

"How’s the situation?" Gavin asked.

The STF team member quickly retrieved various data and materials, and answered him without even lifting his head. "Some core data has been completely destroyed, but some files can be recovered."

Gavin looked at the recovered files, and immediately determined that these were some experiment reports related to Evolvers. The date of the report spanned from more than ten years ago to the present day. He had no idea how many of such experiments were carried out when Black Swan was hiding in the dark.

"Wait." Gavin suddenly stopped his team member’s movements, and a sharp look flashed across his eyes. "Export this name list."

Not long after, this concealed name list appeared on the screen. Among the densely listed names, Gavin saw a name that was engraved deep in his memory - MC.

For a moment, he found this hard to believe. He suddenly clenched his fist, his eyes flashing fiercely. After taking a few breaths, he managed to calm down, and pointed at the name. “Open this person’s file.”

The screen flickered, and the first thing that popped out was a photo of a girl’s college identification card. In this short archive, the girl's academic experience, her family and friends, and the company she inherited... had all turned into cold words, completely exposed to Black Swan without privacy.

Gavin read the entire file line by line, his eyes growing darker and darker, and the memories he deliberately sealed in time seemed to be shaken.

Six years ago, he was forced to leave Loveland City because of the awakening of his Evol. It wasn't until two years ago that he tracked Black Swan’s operations and returned. In the past two years, Gavin deliberately stayed away from the world where she lived in order to prevent potential dangers around the girl to shatter her peaceful life.

However, these dangers had already existed in the girl's world from the very beginning.

-

[ Chapter 3 ]

Ever since the STF destroyed the secret laboratory, Black Swan’s operations in Loveland City have grown more frequent and radical, and Evolver crimes have also been emerging in an endless stream.

"Aren't you all Evolvers? Why do you want to sell your lives to ordinary people?!" The man who was knocked to the ground by the fierce wind current lifts his head and shouts angrily at the group of people in front of him.

Gavin doesn’t speak, lifting his foot and stepping on his back, pressing the man, who was struggling desperately, back to the ground.

At this moment, the electric current in his earphone buzzes twice, conveying an urgent message to him - "There’s an abnormality near the Central Boulevard”.

"Understood." Gavin hangs up, then hands this newly awakened Evolver to his subordinates before rushing to the spot where the energy wave was discovered.

At the crossroads, a bizarre car accident was prevented. The surrounding onlookers don't seem to have noticed the peculiar scene, and slowly scatter as the taxi which started the incident drives away, leaving behind a girl standing at the side of the road in a daze.

In the city sky where nobody notices, a figure suddenly appears.

Gavin hovers mid-air, countless raindrops falling beside him and dispersed by the wind. He observes what’s happening on the ground, his eyes extraordinarily calm, akin to tempering a sharp edge. His gaze sweeps across the scene quickly: an Evolver with an unknown motive had stopped a car accident, and... the victim.

Gavin's line of sight suddenly stills. Amid the flowing crowd, the girl who brushed past death bends down, picking up the snacks scattered on the ground, staring in a certain direction for an inexplicable reason.

From such a great distance, the figure on the ground seems to have turned into a small dot. But memory has already traced a copy of the girl's appearance for Gavin.

Meeting again catches him off guard. The wind, which is being controlled, seems to know that he isn’t at peace, and it rustles the hem of his windbreaker. From beginning to end, his gaze rests on that figure which has undergone many changes.

Six years pass by in a flash, and Gavin’s memories still linger on that lonely night in the library many years ago. But the details of that day seem to be covered in mist, and are blurry.

After a long time, Gavin presses the call button of the headset, and reports to the command centre in a serious voice. "Agent B-7, energy wave detected in Loveland City. Sending coordinates.”

Almost immediately, he receives instructions from the other end, and he replies, "Target locked. Taking action immediately.”

Gavin's eyes follow the girl as her figure slowly grows further and further, until she disappears at the corner of the street. He recalls the name list by Black Swan, and a shadow flits across his eyes.

Now that the girl’s Evol has begun to awaken, the peace around her may be shattered immediately. By then, the distance he had maintained for such a long time would no longer be enough to protect her.

-

[ Chapter 4 ]

The sky has not been fully lit, and a ray of light passes through a gap in the curtains, falling on the figure in bed.

Gavin catches his breath as he awakens from the dream, lifting his arm to cover his eyes. He recalls the chaotic and fragmented images in the dream: the room raging with flames, the familiar school roof, the ruins after the explosion, and the glaring fresh blood...

It seems he hasn’t been able to calm down ever since he saw the girl again.

After a long while, Gavin adjusts his emotions, gets up from bed and walks into the bathroom. The icy water rushes down the top of his head, dispelling the lingering sleepiness, and making him incredibly clear-headed. Even the words that the man once said to him clearly resound in his ears——

"Gavin, she’s special like you, and is destined not to have a peaceful life.”

"Do you really have the ability to protect her?"

Water patters to the ground, a little noisy in the quietness of the early morning. Gavin lifts his head, allowing the water to flow over his face, down the body covered with various old and new wounds, and finally flowing into the drain.

After a long time, he opens his eyes, an absolutely unshakable resoluteness in them. "I will protect her."

Gavin turns off the water, then grabs a towel and wipes his hair as he walks out of the bathroom. The notification light of his mobile phone on the desk flickers silently — it’s a message from an informant.

Reading the message rapidly, he taps open the address book and finds a number in it. After the call gets through, he speaks to the person on the other end and says, "I have a request related to the follow-up report mentioned earlier.”

If she is their target, it is only at his side that she’d be safest.

An hour later, Gavin follows the lead provided by the informant, arriving at a small lane beside Morrow Way.

It isn’t until the school gate appears before him that Gavin realises that this is where Loveland High is located. He glances at the school gate which seems to have undergone renovation work, but has no plans to "revisit an old haunt". He heads straight to the alley mentioned by the informant.

This is a relatively remote alley, and one end of the alley is connected to a bustling commercial street. The sub-bureau that received the report had already conducted investigations nearby but found no leads. But the surveillance camera in this alley happened to be spoilt that day - as if it was premeditated.

After understanding the situation, Gavin is prepared to leave. At this moment, somebody calls out to him. "Is that... Gavin?”

Gavin turns his head and sees a middle-aged man in his forties or fifties with a dark complexion and gaunt face. It takes Gavin some time to recall who the other party is, and he’s quite surprised. “Your shop’s still here?”

"Yeah. It's really you. I even thought my eyes were playing tricks on me earlier." The man whom Gavin remembers as taciturn reveals a small smile. "Is there a reason why you came to this area?”

Gavin doesn’t conceal the truth. "I’m here on a mission, and am investigating something.”

After being stunned for a second, the middle-aged man reacts. "You’re really working in the police station now?"

Gavin nods. The middle-aged man is a little surprised, but understands quickly. He hesitates for a moment, then says to Gavin, "It's already noon. Want to have a bowl of noodles?"

Gavin is about to shake his head to refuse. But for some unknown reason, he agrees.

As compared to the last time he visited a few years ago, Lynn’s Kitchen is much more spacious now. The wall facing the door is still densely packed with all kinds of small post-it notes as it was in the past. Gavin sweeps a brief glance at it, images of the past flashing in his mind.

He finds the seat where he often sat at in the past. After a few minutes, the boss gives him a bowl of hand-pulled noodles in chilli oil: the light yellow noodles are covered with bright red oil, garlic sprouts, coriander and slices of beef placed orderly along the sides of the bowl. The fragrance accompanying the steam that burrows into his nose is exactly the same as in his memories,  easily evoking the hunger in the Gavin’s belly.

“Give it a try and see if there’s any improvement.” The middle-aged man chuckles a little reservedly. "You haven't eaten it in a long time, right?"

“Smells pretty good." Gavin responds. He lifts up the noodles with chopsticks, bringing them into his mouth. The familiar taste involuntarily relaxes the tense corners of his mouth.

At this moment, along with the sound of the school bell from the nearby Loveland High, a group of students dismissed from school at noon swarm into the noodle shop, and Gavin's surroundings instantly become noisy. Judging from the familiar colour scheme of the school uniform and the logo on it, these are students from Loveland High. They stare at Gavin with curiosity as he appears incompatible with this small shop. Then, they return to laughing and joking with each other, as though they have no worries at all.

The corners of Gavin’s lips hook upwards slightly. He finishes the remaining noodles in the bowl in two or three slurps. After leaving money at the cash register, he leaves the shop.

“Okay, 1.30 in the afternoon at Flower Fair." He arranges a meeting time with a victim. As soon as he hangs up, another call comes in immediately.

"Chief Yuan?"

"This is Captain Gavin, right? Regarding the follow-up report you mentioned, the producer will look for you at the police station at one o’clock in the afternoon.”

"Okay, I’ve got it.”

After speaking concisely, Gavin hangs up the phone with a smile in his eyes.

-

[ Chapter 5 ]

On the main road of Loveland City at noon, the vehicles caught in a jam move forward slowly.

Suddenly, the shadow of a black car speeds past along with a wave of heat. The incoming wind lifts the hem of Gavin’s clothes, but seems to surround him and refuse to leave.

There’s quite a distance between Loveland High and the police station. It’s so far that on the way there, things from the past gradually surface in Gavin’s mind -

A figure hiding under the eaves on a rainy evening.

A dusty “Byron’s Poetry Collection” in the library.

A letter stained with blood.

A piano tune on an afternoon when ginkgo leaves danced in the sky.

A... girl who appeared in his life during his most hopeless years.

Gavin’s brows suddenly soften. The emotions which were suppressed for a very long time are released in this instant, surging and foreign.

Those images that were about to be forgotten over the course of six years become as clear as yesterday, reminiscent of dust on the surface being wiped off suddenly by a hand.

They were separated for such a long time. So long that he almost forgot that he once had such ardent feelings, akin to sunlight in the height of summer.

-

1pm, Loveland City Police Department.

Gavin holds a peaked hat and walks down the corridor at a moderate pace. From afar, he can hear the chatter of Officer Landsman, who has always disliked him, mixed with the responses of the confused girl.

"Word around the office is that he’s the son of one of the higher-ups. Just think, if he’s some big shot’s boy... We should just stay away!"

[Note] I’m using his canon dialogue in EN since we’re familiar with it. But what Officer Landsman actually says in CN is: “I heard that... he’s an ignorant and incompetent child of an official - a pampered son. Just think about it - how many higher-ups have the surname Bai? ...we can’t offend him!”

Gavin arches his brows, turns around the corner, and sees that familiar figure.

The girl’s back is facing him, her height pretty much the same as it was back then. Her hair isn’t tied into a ponytail, and it drapes smoothly over her shoulders. It’s as though Gavin is able to see her eyes widening after hearing the gossip - she’s still as lively.

Hearing Officer Landsman getting increasingly unreasonable as he speaks, Gavin interrupts directly. "Officer Landsman, just who were you saying is a ‘big shot’s boy’?”

Officer Landsman is given a fright, and the girl turns her head. The pair of clear eyes from his memories meets his once again.

As though crossing over the tilted time, the feelings of youth are brought from the past and into his world with ease.

The distance which had once gradually widened between them has finally been folded by time. All the memories and images have settled, slowly overlapping with the girl in front of him.

Gavin looks at the fear straying onto the girl's face, as well as the unfamiliarity in her eyes. He lifts the corners of his lips, and smiles -

"MC, do you remember me?"

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 27

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 4.1k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

✧✧✧ act four ➻ part two

​​

When Hongjoong said that you would reconvene the next day to discuss the plans further, you expected it to be quick and easy. Instead, one day turned into six and a half days that consisted of playing a waiting game. No one was allowed on the bridge aside from Seonghwa – even Mingi was told that he couldn’t take his regular post at the captain’s side, which left the bitter taste of curiosity in your mouth. And since you and Seonghwa are on a break from your regular physical activities, you haven’t been able to ask him what the hell is going on because he spends all his time on the bridge talking with Hongjoong because you don’t get to see him. You aren’t bitter or anything – honestly and truly, you aren’t – but it does feel a bit strange to go from sleeping in the same bed as someone every other day and having a certain level of intimacy with them to not even seeing the back of their head for almost a week. The one time you did see Seonghwa, it was so brief that if you had blinked, you would have missed him and the rushed greeting and farewell he gave you on his way to the bridge.

Maybe you are a tad bitter, but only because you would have appreciated a better explanation than the silence you got instead.

Hongjoong’s strange and unexplained delay in conducting his plans led to a spike in stress throughout the crew. You would assume that having this downtime and not having to do anything would be something they enjoy and look forward to, but that’s limited to being able to leave the ship on said downtime. No one has been allowed to set foot off the ship according to a vague order over the ship’s intercoms. Despite the much-needed rest, you have to admit that even you are growing tired of it. You spend your days reading about Sirens in your room, sparring with Jongho or San, or just milling about the ship with little purpose because there isn’t much to do. More quality time spent in each other’s presence isn’t always good though. This whole situation has caused a spike in Wooyoung’s complaints about the food primarily because Jongho has been the only one cooking in Seonghwa’s absence.

“I’m just saying that if you lowered the heat on the stove, maybe the food would be so burnt!” Wooyoung’s voice rings through the mess hall before you even reach the archway leading into the room.

“That’s called flavor, Wooyoung!” Jongho argues back, dark head of hair coming into view as you cross the threshold. You don’t even bother looking over to where the food waits because if Wooyoung is this loud in his complaints already, then it’s worse than usual.

“The eggs are black, Jongho. Black! How do you even manage to do that?” Wooyoung scoffs, leaning back in his seat as he motions down at his plate. Yeosang is at the man’s side as always though he doesn’t engage in the conversation happening before him. He still bears the same cloth sling that he’s been wearing since that explosion in the marketplace. As much as he insists that he’s fine, Yunho continues to make him wear it just to be sure that he won’t tear anything.

And, speaking of Yunho, he’s the first to greet you as you draw closer to the table. He lifts his hand to offer a gentle wave but says nothing more than that because Jongho is still hellbent on getting the last word.

“Look, I don’t appreciate this kind of attack. Your tone is very hostile and accusatory, and I’m not really vibing with it in all honesty.”

You huff out a weak laugh at Jongho’s comment, stepping around the man to sit between Yunho and San when they make space for you.

“I’m not vibing with eggs that look like gravel! We can’t all vibe with what we wanna vibe with!” Wooyoung protests as he slaps his hand against the table. The silverware and plates shudder at the impact, but Jongho remains unblinking, lips drawn into a fierce pout.

“Suit yourself. More for the rest of us!”

“More for you,” Yunho cuts in with a quick shake of his head.

“And only you,” San adds a moment later.

“All of you are cruel. At least I can rely on Y/N to treat me better than this.” Jongho angles his chin towards you, and you resist the urge to look over at him. You’re certain that he’s going to be wearing those damn puppy dog eyes that he’s too good at, and you are more than slightly susceptible to. “Wow, nevermind! She’s not even gonna look at me.”

“Careful, Jongho. She might be cranky. She hasn’t fucked in maybe a week with our dear lieutenant always on the bridge.” Jongho chokes on his coffee, Wooyoung’s eyes all but bulge out of his head, and San coughs to cover the laugh that threatens to breach his lips. Only Yeosang maintains a sense of normalcy, but you can spot the hint of a smirk as he hides behind his coffee mug. You swing an elbow into Yunho’s side, hitting him square in the ribs, and he yelps from the impact. “Ow! Hey, rude!”

“Fuck you,” you huff.

“Oh? Okay, what time? I’ll gladly clear my schedule for some fun.” Yunho props his elbow up on the table and angles his chin to look you in the eye. You glare in response to the teasing gleam there, opting not to give him the pleasure of hearing another response from you.

“Breakfast is always so much fun, isn’t it?” San teases, pulling his arm up to rest on your shoulder.

“Can’t we have one breakfast with Yunho making things about sex?” Wooyoung whines as he slumps forward on the table.

“Why is everyone cranky except for me?” Yunho scoffs. “It isn’t like you all have never had sex, I don’t see what the big issue is! Why can’t I just chat abo–”

“Can it, horndog!” Wooyoung interrupts, and he chucks a wadded up napkin at Yunho’s forehead a moment later.

“Fine! Just remember that one day, I’m gonna stop talking altogether, and you lot are going to regret having ever been mean to me about talking too much.” Yunho purses his lips, drawing his arms up to cross over his broad chest, and Wooyoung shakes his head in response.

“No, no, you idiot! Shut up because someone is present,” he hisses out. His index finger comes up to jab in the opposite direction, and you have to swivel your head to see what exactly he’s pointing at. Yunho does the same, but his expression melts into a neutral one in an instant. Mingi stands at the other side of the room, oblivious to the eyes upon him and as stoic as ever. The talk at the table falls quiet. It’s such a sudden shift that it sends you reeling, especially since you haven’t seen Mingi in the mess hall since – well, you can’t recall ever seeing him here. The tension and discomfort in the air is palpable. You consider breaking the silence, but Yunho’s flitting eyes and Wooyoung’s suddenly stiff muscles convince you not to. Rather, it’s Jongho who cuts through it.

“God, can’t you all act normal around him?” He pushes himself up and turns to where Mingi lingers near the edge of the room.

“I’m confused,” you mutter, shifting your head to look in San’s direction. He looks back at you with lips drawn tight together. They relax after a moment, and San opens his mouth to say something. The words never come out because Jongho interrupts the train of thought with a booming tone that echoes through the hall.

“Hey! Mingi just said he loves my eggs, you rat!” It’s obvious who the comment is directed at, and Wooyoung is quick to respond with an equally loud scoff.

“He is only saying that to make you feel better. He knows how bad they really are!” Wooyoung huffs. You try to relax your shoulders as the hanging tension begins to thin and dissipate. Jongho all but drags Mingi closer to the table where you all sit, but once the pair gets within three feet of you, Mingi halts. Jongho tugs his arm a little to no avail because Mingi still shakes his head and refuses to budge.

“I think… they would feel safer if I stay at this table instead,” Mingi says, tone hesitant. His tongue darts out to drag over his lower lip, and his gaze lands on each person at the table before settling on you. Jongho doesn’t push him any further though and lets Mingi move towards the other table instead. Yunho lets his gaze flit between Jongho and Mingi, watching the silent exchange before huffing out a sigh and standing up himself. He goes to sit beside the taller Berserker without a word and doesn’t bother bringing his food or coffee with him as he drops to the bench, elbows propped up on the edge of the table. He’s almost tall enough to stretch across the space between the tables with his legs alone, and you’re sure that he could if he put in the effort.

You don’t face forward right away. Mingi’s presence looms behind you like a ticking time bomb. Even if the tension is slowly ebbing away, you can still clearly see that everyone is on edge. Maybe it is only because you’ve all been stuck on the ship for so long, perhaps everyone is on edge and tense because of that, but you know that Mingi is an influential factor regardless. It’s suddenly everywhere in the room: in Yeosang’s sharp eyes narrowing on Mingi’s form, Wooyoung’s shifting weight as he glances over at the Berserker every so often, the hand that San inches across the bench to brush against the nape of your back. Jongho and Yunho stay close to Mingi, but it doesn’t seem like a gesture meant to be solely friendly. It looks more like a blockade than anything else. The way Yunho stretches his legs out to cover more distance, his body facing towards your table rather than the opposite way, and Jongho finding a statuesque position evenly between the tables with arms pressed firmly against his hips.

It isn’t necessarily Mingi or his aura that makes you uncomfortable and tense. It’s the crew’s reaction to his presence in the mess hall that does that. Normal conversation slips back in, though it doesn’t help to ease the discomfort churning in your gut.

“What the hell is taking Hongjoong and Seonghwa so long anyway?” Wooyoung asks, slumping over the table after pushing his plate of unfinished food out of the way. “It’s been a week. What kind of plans are they making for a week?”

“Big ones?” San offers with a half-smirk stretching his lips.

“Haha, you’re so funny, San. Have I ever mentioned that? How funny you are? Because you’re fucking hilarious.” Wooyoung doesn’t try to hide the overexaggerated roll of his eyes.

“In all seriousness though, I have no idea. They could be playing a waiting game, just like the rest of us.”

“A waiting game for what?” Wooyoung shifts a bit in his seat. Yeosang glances over in his direction and seems to pick up on something that no one else does because he pushes closer to the dark-haired man until their shoulders rub against each other. The simple touch releases some of the tension in Wooyoung’s shoulder in a fraction of a second.

“Given where we are, it would be no surprise if they needed to wait like the rest of us,” San explains through a sigh. “Especially with what happened the last time you were out and about in the city.” If you didn’t already know what San is referring to, you would be able to tell just from the way Wooyoung and Yeosang look at one another, eyes sad to a degree, and Wooyoung pushes a hand back to brush against the one that hangs out of Yeosang’s sling.

“It’s been a long time since Hongjoong was this patient,” Jongho notes as he finally takes his eyes off Mingi. “Do you think something happened?”

You know why he’s patient all of a sudden. The reason is you. Your identity as a Siren, your revelation to him a little over a week ago, and the fact that Hongjoong has two Sirens in his grasp rather than just one. You can’t very well come out and say that however; you don’t need the rest of the crew treating you like anything less or more than what you are. Nor do you need them doubting your abilities all of a sudden like Seonghwa did (another thing you aren’t bitter about in the slightest). If it were up to you, you would make sure that none of them found out. The underlying need to be appreciated and wanted for who you are rather than what you are outweighs the desire to explain Hongjoong’s patience.

“I’ve got no clue.” San shrugs, casting Jongho an uninterested glance before returning to his coffee.

“Being on Kebos sucks ass.” Wooyoung huffs air through his nose, but the sound is masked entirely by a sudden clatter behind you. San’s grip shifts to your hip and squeezes tight before he turns around. It’s a split second shift, and the tension spikes tenfold. Wooyoung claps his hand over his mouth, eyes growing impossibly wide. You dare to turn with the rest and stare directly at Mingi. The sight before you, however, is an entirely normal one.

Mingi sits in the same position as before. He hasn’t even budged. You wouldn’t be able to tell that something is wrong if not for the next words that come out of his mouth.

“We’re on… Kebos?” It isn’t clear who he is talking to because he keeps his chin dipped to his chest.

“No! Uh, I just meant that — I was thinking about it. We were talking about it. Earlier!” Wooyoung exclaims as he drops his hand to the table. That turns out to be a mistake, however; he releases a cry of pain the second his hand connects with the metal, pulling away and cradling the limb to his chest. Yeosang lunges to shield Wooyoung from view, but he doesn’t move fast enough thanks to the awkward position at the table and one of his arms being out of commission. There’s a flash of crimson trickling down Wooyoung’s arm. Yeosang’s weight slams into Wooyoung, and the two topple off the bench and thrash a little before hitting the ground at a painful angle. Wooyoung takes the brunt of the impact, Yeosang falling on top of him with a grunt.

When you glance down at the table again, there’s a knife beside Yeosang’s plate, one that has the same shade of crimson as Wooyoung’s arm coating the blade. It isn’t difficult to figure out what happened. San notices the knife the exact moment you do. He jerks and stretches across the table to knock it off the edge, and the blade clatters a few times before skidding across the metal floor. You don’t dare move a muscle. San leans closer to you, lips grazing the shell of your ear as he turns back to Mingi.

“Move to the other side of the table,” he mutters. “Don’t make any sudden movements.” You’re tempted to nod, but the warning in San’s tone prevents you from even doing that much. So instead, you slide across the bench as slowly as possible to do as asked.

“Hey, Mingi,” Jongho starts. From your new position, you can clearly see what was going on, and Mingi’s gaze is firmly fixated on the spot where the bloodied knife just sat. “How’s the weather up there?”

Mingi doesn’t respond. His hands are trembling in his lap without cease, and even as San slides to block his line of sight, he remains stuck in place.

“Mingi…” Yunho stretches a hand towards the Berserker. He barely makes contact with the man’s shoulder, but it triggers a visceral response in Mingi. The speed he moves with is almost a blur. Next thing you know, Mingi has Yunho sprawled on the floor with his hands straining around the healer’s neck. “F-Fuck. Jongho, ge–” Mingi cuts the words short by squeezing tighter.

“Mingi, can you hear me?” Jongho asks, stepping closer to where Mingi has Yunho pinned. He moves slowly still, no rush or panic in his steps or tone. “Mingi.”

“Y-Yes, yes. Yes, I can – I can hear you.”

“Can you still move your hands?”

“Not re… no, yes. I can.” Mingi’s fingers flex around Yunho’s neck. He relieves some of the pressure on the other man, letting him gasp in deep breaths of air.

“You need to let go of Yunho.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“No! No, I can’t. They–”

“You’re hurting him, Mingi,” Jongho murmurs, squatting beside the pair. He doesn’t reach out to touch Mingi the way Yunho did, but he doesn’t need to. Mingi listens, understands, and slowly but surely his grip on Yunho’s neck alleviates until it’s gone altogether.

“I-I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to — I wasn’t trying t–”

“It’s okay, Mingi.” Jongho drops a hand to Mingi’s shoulder at last. This time, Mingi sits still and lets himself sink into the touch. Jongho tugs him ever so gently off Yunho, allowing the older man to roll out from under Mingi’s weight and get to his knees further away from Mingi. “Can you stand up?”

“Yeah… yeah, I can.”

“Cool, let’s get up then, yeah? We can talk somewhere quieter.”

The silence in the room is suffocating, so you aren’t what on earth he means by that, but Mingi just nods in agreement and pulls himself to his feet. Jongho’s hand remains clenched around his shoulder. There’s too much pressure around his knuckles for it to merely be a comforting touch; it’s a secure and robust grip, one that keeps Mingi in check as Jongho guides him out of the mess hall without even looking back. You aren’t sure how much time passes, but no one moves for a long time after both Berserkers leave. Yunho’s chest heaves as he reaches up to rub at the reddened skin around his throat. Wooyoung and Yeosang are still on the floor behind you, both sitting up now, and San remains rigid like a statue in his seat across the table.

“Wooyoung, let me look at your hand,” Yunho says after a long while, voice a bit raspy. Wooyoung scrambles to get to his feet and meet Yunho halfway.

“I-I’m sorry. I forgot. I know I wasn’t supposed to say anything but I–”

“It’s not your fault, Woo,” Yunho murmurs as he pulls Wooyoung’s hand away from his chest and examines the cut on his palm. “He was doing well until I touched him so… the blame falls on my shoulders as well.” A sigh escapes him. “You won’t need stitches, but I need to clean it and dress it. Head to the medbay; I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. Yeosang, you can go with him.”

“You aren’t coming right away?” Wooyoung inquires, head tilting to the side in echo to his question.

“I need to tell Hongjoong what happened.” Yunho brings a hand up to his pale hair and runs his long fingers through the locks, eyes squeezed shut for several seconds.

“Y/N and I can do that, Yunho,” San interrupts. He motions to where you’re sitting, and the sudden attention has you straightening your back and nodding a few times. “Take care of Wooyoung and yourself first.”

You expect some sort of denial from Yunho, but one glance at Wooyoung has him nodding in agreement before leading the way out of the mess hall. You and San are suddenly very alone in the large room. The weight of what just happened begins to sink in, one thing nagging at the forefront of your mind more than anything else.

Mingi apologized. Not just a half-assed emotionless apology either. His tone held guilt, and it was clear that he genuinely felt back about nearly choking Yunho to death.

“Hey…” San is suddenly at your side, hand rubbing between your shoulder blades, and you jerk your head to look up at his face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you agree quickly.

“That’s not a pretty sight, I know.”

“I’ve never seen something like… that. Fights, sure. But t-that was so–”

“Sudden?”

“Exactly,” you confirm through a sigh. With a small shake of your head, you push up from the table and step over the bench to stand beside San.

“Mingi is a hand grenade with a hairpin trigger, but he isn’t that way intentionally. He is trying to get better. We have good days and bad days with him, then we have days like today. Rough but productive. There was a time when Mingi wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Yunho, and there was a time when he couldn’t even be in the same room as us.” San offers a shrug before motioning to the other end of the mess hall opposite the doors Yunho and the others left out of.

“So, this is normal or…?” You trail off before finishing the question, staying close to San’s side as he leads the way to the bridge.

“Yeah, you could say that. I know it’s not something that you’ve gotten the pleasure of seeing or witnessing, but this has happened several times since you joined the crew.”

“He didn’t want to hurt Yunho,” you note in a quiet tone.

“Of course, he didn’t. He never wants to hurt anyone, especially not anyone on the crew. He wants to have a reason to hurt someone before doing so. He has no qualms with hurting or killing someone who hurts one of us first. Or even threatens us for that matter.” San hesitates to look down at you. “Mingi is a lot like you and me in actuality. He has these ghosts of the past that haunt him. A guilt he’s grown into and a burden on his shoulders. The person he used to be isn’t the person he wants to be now. Unlike us, however, he doesn’t have the luxury of knowing and understanding his own emotions. He was conditioned to ignore them and block them out. Robbed of basic knowledge on how emotions work. So he has a harder time because he has to relearn what it means to feel things. It’s one thing to kill and feel nothing, but another to kill and not understand why you’re in pain.”

“Then he had a visceral reaction to hearing that we’re on Kebos because of what? Since this is where he was born and raised? Or because he feels like he’s being forced back?”

“Part of him fears that he’ll be the same person he used to be, and that being on Kebos will reawaken that part of him. Or that he won’t be able to hold the voices back and turn back into the monster he used to be.”

“The voices?” You glance at San out the corner of your eye.

“Yeah, like flashbacks but without the visual hallucinations.” San cracks a small smile.

“I know what you mean by voices, smartass. I was asking about what he hears.”

“I know, I know. He hears the cheering from the arena most of the time. Cries for blood and death. Other times he will hear his master’s voice telling him to kill. But from what I understand, it’s constant. They never leave him alone, even when he’s asleep.” San comes to a halt, and it’s only when you glance forward that you realize you’ve made it to Hongjoong’s office. There’s a faint din coming from inside, rapidly exchanged words that you can’t make out, but you’re certain that it’s Seonghwa and Hongjoong. San knocks his knuckles against the door several times. The voices fall silent, then the sound of Seonghwa clearing his throat breaches the door. Three seconds later, the door slides open to reveal the dark-haired lieutenant. He looks like he hasn’t slept a single day in the whole week that has passed since you saw him last, but you don’t have time to dwell on that fact because San is already speaking on your left.

“Mingi had an episode in the mess hall.”

✧✧✧ a/n: okay ngl i feel like this chapter is a bit of a mess so im sorry for that ;-; i couldn’t get a chance to sit down and write it in one sitting and make everything as cohesive as i wanted and i ended up cutting some bits so that i could shift them into the next chapter instead so we’re left with this hot mess 😭

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[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: maid outfit 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: tsukioka tsumugi/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 1.3k words

𝐚𝐧: as usual, i am very creative with titles haha. @3rdgymbros​ how... how long did this take? ahahaha but i asked my tsumu friends for advise on certain parts, so thank you bbs~

“We’re hosting a cafe! You’ll come visit me, right?”

From your request alone, it wasn’t difficult for Tsumugi to interpret it as you inviting him to a regular, perhaps aesthetically pleasing, cafe arranged by you and your peers. Nothing about your words nor your expression gave off anything that would convince him otherwise, so he accepted it as face value— you knew he enjoyed the ambience of cafes, after all.

“Of course I’ll go,” at the sight of your expectant gaze he agreed immediately, not putting much thought behind your explanation, or lack thereof. “I remember how competitive every department used to get.”

“Not much has changed in three years,” you shrugged, “a lot of people are doing food stuff too, and all of us want to be the course who earns the most money…”

You trailed off, the sudden upwards quirk of the corner of your lip making you look more devilish devious than the angelic nature he commonly associated with you.

“But I’m confident ours will be the best.”

Tsumugi wasn’t going to lie to himself and say he wasn’t the least bit curious. This wasn’t a new situation, you trying to hide things to surprise or tease him, and like a moth to a flame he couldn’t help himself from trying to figure out more.

Maybe it’s the Psychology degree, or maybe it’s something simpler like him being your boyfriend. Regardless, the procedure was always the same from then on. First, maintain eye contact or at least keep his eyes on your face. Second, slip in a question,

“Mm? Why do you think so?”

“Well,” you tilted your head to the side, pupils trained elsewhere as though you were purposefully keeping him from getting a read on your face. “Everyone has a different concept or theme, and I think ours is easily the best.”

Even with your mostly tight-lipped disposition, he seemed to get a gist of what you could be talking about. Concept cafes were getting more popular lately, all with different gimmicks… maybe you guys were offering a special menu? Like those cafes with the colourful drinks or character meals?

When he asked you to confirm his guess, you only laughed and nodded wordlessly. That wasn't a no but there was clearly something he was missing. However before he could say anything more the two of you were already outside of your dormitory.

“Thank you for walking me back, Tsu-kun,” you lightly grasped his hands with your own, expression back to a pearly white smile and crinkled eyes as though the look previously on your face was nothing but a figment of his imagination.

“I’ll just message you which classroom I’ll be in, so remember to check your phone, okay?” you reminded him, “and if you don’t remember how to send a text back, just ask Tasuku-kun—“

“Haa… come on, I at least know that much,” he defended himself, his utterance drowning in a sea of your giggles.

“I was just teasing!”

You squeezed his hands one last time before slowly letting go of him, taking a step backwards as you began to see him off. “I’ll see you next week?”

“Definitely,” Tsumugi replied, a charming smile rivalling your own greeting you farewell, accompanied by the words of, “I’ll see you soon, my blossom.”

As he left the premises you had to wonder… how would we react when he saw you next time? Somehow… you found yourself excited just thinking about it.

Even from where Tsumugi stood at the end of the hallway, he could tell your group’s makeshift cafe was as popular as you predicted it to be, if the hustle and bustle and the constant stream of people leaving and entering the room were anything to go by.

It was easy to see why.

You texted him a few minutes ago, saying you had to be the one to welcome and assist him.

Then… were you also…?

Even as the distance began to come to a close and the anticipation started to bubble up, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you.

You stood in front of him, clad in a black, puffy, short-sleeved, Peter Pan collared mini dress with a frilly little skirt, the white trimmings stopping mid-thigh. Wrapped around your waist was a white apron with ruffled edges.

Really, the seed was already planted in his head as soon as figured out what type of cafe you were participating in, but when you brought back his attention with your words he found himself all the more embarrassed. How long had he been…?

“Tsu-kun… ah, no, I mean,” he looked up upon hearing you whisper to yourself momentarily, eyes unfailing to notice the cute little headband that crowned your head as you perked back up and fell back into script.

“Welcome back, master!”

You threw him your usual smile, but paired with how you greeted him he, all of a sudden, became too aware of the scorching heat rising on his face. In a futile attempt to hide it from you he immediately cast his gaze downwards, only to be met with a sliver of your thighs, the rest of your legs covered up by knee socks with a bow accent.

With all things said and done, there wasn’t anything too inappropriate about your outfit, what with this event being set in school, but even so it was that very innocence and charm that seemed to…

“H-huh?” He jolted as you pulled on the sleeve of his sweater, asking if he was okay and if he wasn’t so busy trying to un-fry his brain and look elsewhere he would’ve noticed a different gleam in your eyes, using your free hand to cover up your growing grin with the menu.

“I’m— I’m fine.”

No he wasn’t. If you bothered to move your hand upwards to meet his face, you probably would’ve burned yourself by the sheer warmth he was radiating. Still, you only giggled with a “master, come this way please,” as you turned around and requested he follow you.

He swallowed.

The straps of your apron met to form a cross on your back, the ends tied into a bow.

Aha, cute…

Darting his eyes away from your form momentarily, he was finally able to absorb the venue’s appearance. He’s attended classes in this room before, and while it was still quite obviously a lecture hall, the cutesy decor littered amongst the tables and chairs set a different mood for the scene.

As you led him to Tsumugi seat and handed him his menu, he was able to calm down and have his brain actually function think more rationally. You purposely left out the details to surprise him, that much was clear. As he moved his eyes away from the egg dish choices and to your face, the look of amusement you wore was evident to him, even if you tried to hide it.

If… if you were trying to play a game with him, then… he’ll do his best to compensate.

“Ahh, master, if you’re having trouble choosing then can I suggest the fried rice topped with character fried egg,” you looked at him through your lashes, connecting your index fingers together, “since it’s my master’s favourite~ ah! Or maybe the omurice? I’ll even write a special message for you, master~”

“Hmm… I’m happy with either one, since you’ll be the one serving it.”

Tsumugi watched you blink once, and then twice, watching you react to the sudden change. You probably expected him to not recover so quickly. Sure, he was still affected by how cute you looked, but as your cheeks began to be dusted with pink, he found you even more beautiful.

As you stumbled over your reply, he interrupted you with a question.

“Are you going to keep that outfit after this?”

Looking a little confused, you broke out of character and nodded.

“Then… could I see you wear it again in the future?”

want to order again?

i couldn’t figure out a way to write this in, but wouldn’t it be cute if after tsumugi finishes eating they have that thing where the maid and the customer take a photo or polaroid together? 

[favathornewood]

the proposal

under the “read more” you will find the real story of hudson & fava’s proposal. there is mention of the games so please be wary of the following triggers: death, suicidal ideation, serious injuries.

(it’s also long so be aware of that too lol)

Dinner has become a regular thing. Not just once or twice a week, but three — four, five — and they never leave after the dishes are done. They stay to chat with Wren, to make jokes with her mother, to stare at Fava herself when they think she isn’t looking. Sometimes she catches herself staring at them too though the sentiment is different.

It is Thursday when they talk until long after the sun goes down. It is Thursday when she asks them to stay, if they don’t mind, because she hasn’t been sleeping well. That was an understatement; she hasn’t slept in days.

Insomnia is a wretched beast, one far more painful than anything she had to face in the Games.

Fava doesn’t know how long she’s been lying with her cheek pressed against their shoulder, but it feels like an eternity. It feels weighted too, but everything does these days. After a moment, she rubs her face against the fabric of their shirt gently to gain their attention. She can still see their eyes clearly in the darkness. Thank you, Capitol, for the enhancements.

“Hudson,” she begins softly, “do you ever think about marrying me?”

//

They wondered, when they were alone in their new bedroom at night, whether Fava was sleeping. While they wondered, of course, they weren’t sleeping, either.

It felt easier on the train, on their Victory Tour. Like they only had each other. Now, though, Fava has their family, and Hudson keeps their distance, unsure of what any of those nights actually meant. It’d be simpler, maybe, if Fava loved them only when the Capitol could see, and never at any other time. But it wouldn’t be better. They wouldn’t trade these moments in the dark for anything.

It feels easier to talk to her, like this. But her question still trips them up, makes their tongue feel heavy in their mouth. They don’t know why she’s asking; they don’t know what she wants to hear. “Yes,” they say, because they’ve never been in the habit of lying, although they do turn their face away. “Is that okay? Should I—not have?”

//

Fava inhales at their confession — yes, they have thought about marrying her. Immediately she wonders how often the thought crossed their mind, what kind of fantasies they constructed. The outright sincerity of their statement makes her stomach turn; she’s never been good with vulnerability.

Hudson must hand pick specific traits of hers and expand on others, creating a universe where she is more open with them and more forgiving too. She knows that she will never be able to give them the life that they deserve. She isn’t capable of such softness, such romanticism. Guilt will plague her for the rest of their lives; guilt hand delivered by President Snow himself.

“Yes, it’s okay.” She chooses her words carefully, grateful that Hudson’s looked away from her. Light eyes search the air for something to say. “Sometimes I think about it too.”

It is a lie. She has never once thought about marriage. Not with Hudson, not with anybody.

//

They’re not so far gone in their childhood crush that it doesn’t surprise them to hear that.

When he was dying in the Arena and her kind touch on his face felt like all he had to hold onto, he believed that she loved him. After the Games, though, they came crashing back down to earth. Now they don’t know what she feels. Like picking petals off of a flower: she loves me, she loves me not.

Sometimes, they feel like they can’t keep up with her moods. When they’re allowed to be close, and when they’re not. It’s easiest, then, to let her set the pace. To let her come to them. It doesn’t usually lead to disappointment: she tells them they can stay for dinner; she asks them to spend the night. She takes what she needs.

“You do?” They ask, because after the Arena they can’t not ask, even when part of them wants to stay in this bubble where they can pretend that they have no reason to doubt it, when it’s dark and and they’re holding onto each other and it feels like it could be true. “I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

//

If she were smarter, Fava would have started softening herself for them a long time ago. Or, rather, she would have maintained the vulnerability that she showed back in the Arena. She still had moments of it to be fair, but it isn’t as often. Or asconsistent.

She can nearly hear Nelly scolding her about the importance of planning as if this was something that Fava could see coming. She should have — everything done in the Games is looking at through a magnifying glass until someone else comes along with a victory more exciting. But she — they — made history. This is the first time there’s been two Victors, the first time that District 12 has ever seen so much greatness. They will never rest easy.

Or maybe they will.

Hudson seems content with the idea of spending the rest of their life with her. Surely they are the only one who has ever looked at her in that light. Maybe that is worth listening to.

She laughs despite herself, her head shaking slightly as rolls fully to her back, separating them. “It must be shocking that I of all people have dreams of the future.” She is staring at the ceiling above them when she reminds herself of the point of their conversation. “That I think about us.”

//

They’ve been carrying such guilt. He sat under the lights, in front of the cameras, and said something. Something that’s changed the course of their lives. And they didn’t even ask Fava about it.

They’d only been thinking about the Games, then. About getting attention, about getting sponsors, about increasing the chances of one of them—because it could only be one of them, and it could only be Fava—coming out of it alive. They never thought about after, because there wasn’t supposed to be an after. And so they never thought about this.

Maybe Fava’s words should absolve them of some of that. But instead, they just feel confused. Like they’ve hurt her, maybe. Like she thinks that they’re calling her cold, cruel, when they feel like they’ve just been—trying very hard not to think anything at all. Not to assume anything.

She rolls away from them, and their side suddenly feels very cold. Her words say that she wants to be closer—that she’s thinking about marriage—even as she’s moving away.

“And you think,” they say, sounding it out, trying to make it sound real. “About marriage? Marrying me?”

//

They say it so simply, yet it sounds so incredulous: and you think about marriage — marrying me?

For a second it makes her stomach turn to knots and she fights the urge to curl into a ball and close her eyes. Everything she’s ever done has been to support her family, to survive. Marrying Hudson is something that she needs to do to ensure the safety of those she loves. But it doesn’t feel good. They deserve more. They deserve the truth.

And yet, she can’t bring herself to give it to them. It would be easy to be honest and share the threat given by President Snow, but it would break them, perhaps irreparably, and Fava can’t have that on her shoulders too. It wouldn’t be that bad anyway; everyone longs for someone to love them unconditionally.

(A part of her loves them, of that she is certain, but she doesn’t know how to explain it.)

Allowing herself a moment of genuine vulnerability, Fava repositions in order to see them clearly once more. Her fingers tap against their chest plainly. It is a nervous habit, they know that much. “Yes. I think about marrying you. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.” Her lips part slightly, wanting to continue, but she doesn’t know what else to say.

//

The question on the tip of their tongue—is this about the Hunger Games?—isn’t one that there’s any point in asking. They already know the answer.

From the moment Hudson and Wren’s names were read in the Reaping, their every move has been about the Hunger Games. They made it out of the Arena, but still their every move for the rest of their lives will be about the Hunger Games. They wouldn’t be here, now, in this room together, without the Hunger Games. And so if Fava’s talking about marriage now, then surely it’s about the Hunger Games, too. About committing to the lie that they’ve both been telling, and will tell for the rest of their lives.

Hudson just has to decide if they can live with that, though it doesn’t feel like they have much of a choice.

They know she isn’t one to speak idly. If she’s bringing this up now, especially when it seems to cost her so much—her tapping fingers, her restlessness—then it’s for a reason. And they don’t want to make it harder for her, not when it’s already been so difficult. Not when the scrutiny seems to fall on her most of all out of the two of them. The Girl on Fire.

They raise their hand, take her tapping fingers in theirs, hold them clasped against their chest. “Is this a proposal?”

//

The action is so subtle yet it catches the breath in her throat. For a moment all she feels is peace. She allows her eyes to close and relish in the serenity of the feeling; her mind is at ease. There’s a part of her that wants to stay like this forever, trapped against their chest, but that would be selfish of her. She has people to care for, a District to represent, a Capitol to impress. Sometimes the pressure she feels is immeasurable. She’s drowning.

Drowning, drowning.

When her eyes open, a small smile follows and she shakes her head ever so slightly. “No, this is not a proposal.” She scoots closer to them once more and her lips press against his jaw, a gesture far more intimate than they have shared in weeks. It is fitting considering their current conversation. She knows what she’s doing, how to get them to act in a way that is needed. She has never considered herself manipulative, but apparently she is.

“I was hoping you would do that part.”

//

There’s so much that Fava’s had to do on her own. So many burdens that she’s taken on. She went into the Arena to protect her sister; and, once there, she protected Hudson, she saved their life. They think that she’s protecting them now, too. Both of them. She thinks this is something they have to do.

She’s already been asked to do so much, be so many things she’s not. They asked her to kill, and then they put her in pretty dresses and told her to smile, look at Hudson with lovesick eyes. She’s done it all, but now she’s asking Hudson for something, and they can’t ignore that. The last thing they want is to let her down.

If she needs Hudson to do this part for her, they can. They will, even if they know it will cost them something.

“I’ll do it,” they say, and it’s a promise, one made to themself as much as to Fava. “I’ll do it right now, but first, I just have to, you have to tell me—” they bite off their babbling, slide down in the covers until they’re eye level with Fava, their forehead pressing to hers, searching out her eyes in the dark. “Are you sure?”

//

A new thought: it isn’t only that Hudson deserves so much more than her, but that she doesn’t deserve them at all. Not in a million lifetimes according to Griffin. She knows that he is right, that she is broken in a way that cannot be held together with sweet whispers and promises, but —

No, it is about love. It is about survival.

In her best dreams, the ones that her mind gifts her as a reprieve between weeks of horrific nightmare, she is alone in the woods. The birds chirp and the sun is high; in the distance, a babbling brook and a deer gently drinking. It could feed her family for weeks. She can taste it in her tongue. In some ways, Hudson has become that deer. With them, they will never go hungry.

She is honest in her reply, though not in her intentions. “Yes, I am sure.” She repositions again to get closer, quite certain that she can’t get as close as she’d like to. She’d like to bury into their rib cage where it is warm and safe and quiet. Won’t they let her? “Ask me. Ask me and I’ll say yes.”

//

They stay there, for just a moment. The two of them close, like they couldn’t get any closer, in silence. It’s a moment that—if they could strip it of everything that brought them here, which seems like an impossible task—seems worth remembering. Just for a moment, and then with a final squeeze of their hand around hers, they extricate themself.

If they’re going to do this, they’re going to do it right.

There’s no shortage of Capitol-provided frippery in these new houses of theirs. They only have to cast around in the dark for a minute before they’re able to strip a small length of ribbon from some decorative something or other. They don’t have a ring, but they’re going to give Fava something.

And then they kneel at the side of the bed. Down on one knee. Getting there feels clumsy, a movement they haven’t practiced with their new leg. They’re glad, then, that they haven’t taken it off for the night, even though they should do that more than they do. They’re glad that it’s dark. That this is happening here, now, when it’s just them, and not on some TV screen.

“Fava,” they say, and that feels clumsy, too, a little too formal. They don’t have a speech prepared. But, luckily, there’s just one thing they have to say, hands held out for hers: “Will you marry me?”

//

When Hudson moves away from her, her heart begins to race, not because she’s happy, but because she’s fulfilling the prophecy that President Snow laid out for her.

She gets the urge to stop them from asking her, but she knows that would do more harm than good. They would never be able to look at her the same. (The worst parts of Fava say that’s for the best too.) Instead of facing them with honesty, she watches as they search her room for something to offer her. This brings a genuine smile to her lips. Hudson in so many words: thoughtful and kind.

Though she isn’t particularly experienced when it comes to any form of intimacy, Fava knows that this moment means a lot to them. It isn’t happening on Caesar’s show to be broadcasted to the masses; it is a moment made for only them, the way it should be. She sits and scoots herself to the edge of the bed, her eyes glued to Hudson as they clumsily bend to one knee.

Fava has never witnessed an engagement before. How fitting that her first one is her own. She too is pleased that it isn’t some grand thing. Her hands move into theirs before the nod comes. “Yes, Hudson,” she breathes, “I will marry you.” She seals their promise to each other with a kiss, one needed to convince them that this is real.

//

Their hands are shaking. They can’t say exactly why. They know she’s going to say yes. They know that, while maybe a sliver of it is, this isn’t really about how they feel about each other.

But they tie the ribbon around her finger, hold her hands tight in theirs. They’re going to have to ask Nelly for a ring, and they’re going to have to try hard to rein in her natural extravagance to make sure that it’s something Fava won’t hate to wear—nothing too big or bulky that would get in the way of drawing a bow.

But still they hope, maybe, that Fava will keep this improvised piece of ribbon, that it can be a reminder of the part of this that was just between them, before everything else came crashing in.

From the Arena to the Victory Tour, to sitting together on Cesar Flickerman’s stage, it feels like every kiss Fava’s bestowed upon them, every one that they’ve shared, has been for an audience. Has been sending a message. Maybe this is sending a message, too, but it’s one that they want to hear, one that’s just for them: We’re in this together.

As the vow goes: ’til death do us part.

[one-boring-person]

Unexpected Resistance. (Part Three)

The Terminator (1984) x OC

Warnings: gun usage, violence, death

Context: The T-750 and the T-800 have a brief encounter.

A/N: I apologise for taking so long to update this! I will try to write more of it in a shorter span of time so that it's not so stilted, so please bear with me 😅💛

Edited and Co-written by: @jawline-of-steel

Masterlist

Sarah winces as she watches the T-750 break yet another pair of handcuffs, the cyborg easily snapping each metal loop off from around her wrists, dropping them to the floor and returning her hands to her sides, standing rigidly once more. The policemen surrounding her frown and murmur amongst themselves, one of them going to lock her up once more, forcefully lifting her hands into position behind her, cuffing them together tightly. Emotionlessly, the terminator simply breaks free again, staring at the men around her as they go to draw their weapons, her eyes momentarily fixing on the detective, who has called out to them to stand down. 

From across the room, the T-750 makes eye contact with Sarah, keeping a constant visual on her target so that she doesn't miss anything, as is her directive. Her HUD registers a minor threat from the officers around her, but she follows the orders given previously by Sarah, which stated that attack is not a viable option. Flashes of data appear on the display, her inner CPU processing this at lightning speed, informing her system of everything that is occurring, providing accurate information on all necessary happenings in the room. With no real source of information regarding Kyle Reese, the T-750 is left to make the conclusion of his temporary safety, or capture at the hands of the humans in the police station. None of them, however, are willing to reveal his whereabouts or his current status. Considering this, the logical process of data that follows this acknowledgment is then as to the whereabouts of the pursuer coming after her primary objectives. Once again, white lines of text and encrypted data flood the HUD, the processors deciphering it and creating a realistic outline of the T-800's possible movements. A new directive is formed: locate and subdue the target.

Returning to the present, the T-750 registers that her target has moved away into another room, leaving no visual for the Terminator to track. Keeping a blank expression, the cyborg begins moving forwards, aiming for the door at the far end of the room, which has the highest possibility of being the chosen exit route for Sarah. Almost instantly, the cops around her jump into action, pulling their weapons and levelling them at her, one of them demanding that she stop, though the words go unregistered as orders in the T-750's CPU, the lack of obedience to this man meaning that she simply pushes him out of the way.

Just as she does this, a deafening crash echoes up the hallways, the sounds of splintering wood and tumbling bricks, as well as smashing glass and squealing metal all mixing into one crescendo of noise. The T-750's head snaps round, visual processors fixed on the origin of the disruption, the registered threat-level on her HUD spiking when gunshots begin to tear through the shocked silence that has filled the room. A new course of action is swiftly planned on her display, changing her route of travel so that she is now headed directly towards the point of conflict, where screams and cries of pain are now very audible.

Stepping out into the hall, her head rotates from side to side to determine the most efficient path. Her body turns in accordance and she begins striding down the corridor to her left, easily catching up to a police officer who is running in the same direction, an automatic assault rifle clutched in his hands. Firmly, she takes it from him, ignoring the shout of protest as she continues on, cocking the weapon with practiced efficiency, taking off the safety and placing a finger over the trigger. Returning all priority to the corridor ahead of her, the T-750 moves towards the ever-increasing sound of gunshots and screams, barely registering the sudden lack of clear light as the overhead bulbs are compromised, a new line of code flashing across her HUD:

_COMBAT_MODE_ENGAGED_:_AWAITING_TARGET_IDENTIFICATION_

As this function is activated, all secondary objectives are fazed out of her immediate recall system, only primary directives registering as important and referrable. Statistics for the rifle in her hands appear to the left of her vision, probability for success showing on the right, though this is mostly neutral at present, due to the largely unknown identity of the current threat. Turning a corner, however, she soon corrects this.

Bodies are strewn through this new hallway, blood pooling around them all as they lay there, some still alive, barely, breaths ragged and pained, eyes wide and terrified. A sparking circuit box is set into the wall a little way away, the door torn off and the wires emitting sharp cracks of electricity every few seconds, the systems evidently having short-circuited due to an overload of energy. The T-750 observes this and moves on, stepping over whimpering men as they clutch at her boots, hoping either to stop her walking into certain death, or to get help from her, neither of which she has any inclination of abiding to.

The gun clicks in her hands as she lifts it a little, prepared to shoot at the unknown threat as she rounds another corner, her visual sensors honing in on one particular person standing at the end of the corridor.

_TARGET_ACQUIRED_

The words are quick to register before she has depressed her finger on the trigger, bullets ripping from the muzzle of the deadly weapon. They tear into the back of her target, holes appearing in the tight leather of the coat. The wearer spins on his heel to address the source of this new attack, guns raised in an offensive manner. As his processors register the T-750, however, the T-800 pauses momentarily, his HUD having performed a automatic scan for hidden threat, her cybernetic nature is revealed to him instantly. In this brief moment, the other cyborg fires off another round of bullets, the damage registering on his display as minor, though the attack does catch his CPU off guard, due to the unexpected attack from a seemingly allied opponent.

Lifting his weapons, he shoots back at her, aiming to disable the other cyborg so that he may decipher what has influenced the programming of her CPU, every shot levelled at her abdomen, where there are no vital energy cells, so as not to induce permanent damage. As is usual with the terminators, she does not flinch or show any recognition of pain, maintaining a continuous onslaught of bullets, creating some more serious damage to his left shoulder, though the cybernetic joints of the limb are left intact due to their ability to deflect the majority of these aged bullets. Humans in the future were quick to realise that regular bullets have no impact on the killing machines, as the ammunition just crushes itself against the hyper-alloy endoskeletons.

The T-800 begins walking down the corridor towards the inferior model, shielded eyes fixed on her as he continues to shoot, only tossing aside the weapons when they run out of ammo. At this point, her own rifle seems to deplete it's rounds, the gun now in the process of being reloaded until the cyborg realises that her opponent is too close for firearm usage in any case. Throwing the gun down, she moves to meet the T-800 half way, expression as blank as his. Internally, the T-800 tracks the distance between them; six metres, five metres, four metres…

At three and half metres, he notices her remove a glove, the movement slow and calculated, the revealed hand turning to conceal itself slightly, closing into a fist so that he cannot determine anything from its current state.

At two point seven-five metres, he has formulated his own course of action.

The two lunge at each other, the T-800 grasping the smaller model's arms and throwing her to the side as his sunglasses go flying from his face to reveal missing skin and flesh around his eye, the sphere of metal now fully visible. Her body smashes into the wall, a large dent appearing in it as she slides to the floor, the T-750 attempting to get back up again, only to be picked up by her enemy and slung into the opposing wall again, the sound unbearably loud as support beams and bricks crack and falter under the immense weight. Scrambling to regain control of the situation, the female cyborg rolls onto her back and kicks out at the approaching killer, only to find her leg caught in a vice-like grip. Effortlessly, the T-800 uses this hold on her to swing her round into the wall once more, before bending down to pick her up by the throat, slamming her up against the very surface he just threw her into.

"Your model is registered under Skynet files as a decommissioned series. You have no place here." The T-800 states emotionlessly, face remaining unchanged.

"Your files are correct, I am a decommissioned series, but my mission parameters state that I must be in this time period, and so your secondary statement is incorrect." She responds, tonelessly, one hand coming up to grasp at the arm holding her captive.

"What is your mission? There is no record of any second Skynet model required for this objective." 

"I am not a Skynet operative. I am a Resistance soldier."

The T-800's expression doesn't change, but his HUD begins running through every possible reason for this new response.

"That is not possible. You are Skynet technology." He finally states, tightening his grip around her throat.

"You are incorrect. It is entirely possible. I was developed and recreated by Skynet, but was captured and reprogrammed by the Resistance. I am no longer required to obey Skynet orders." As she says this, a sudden commotion interrupts them.

Both heads snap round, visual processors fixing on Kyle and Sarah as they stumble round the corner, only to come to an abrupt halt when they see the two cyborgs. Instantly, the T-800's targeting sensors flash in recognition, prompting a need to move on his located target, his grip tightening considerably around the T-750's throat, feeling her no longer useful to him.

"Leave the building. Now!" The inferior model suddenly calls out to them, her own mission objectives kicking in, "Get out of the city as quickly as possible! I will find you!"

The two humans nod, eyes wide as they race off back down the corridor, the T-800 going to follow, only for his head to be grabbed by the T-750, one of her hands on either side of his face. HUD flashing, he is forced to turn to her, his display registering a sudden pressure at the base of his right ear, minor damage appearing as she digs a finger into the vulnerable spot. His CPU finally works out what is happening and engages his defence mode, his grip constricting around her throat more.

The exposed metal finger of the T-750 pierces the soft skin, entering the port just below the endoskeleton's upper jaw joint. A transmission of electricity crosses between them, the identical charge of this energy neutralizing the superior model's own impulses, causing a system-wide temporary shutdown.

The T-800's eye widen minutely.

[asteriuszenith]

VT Investigation Files: POI Files: Nocturne

(Masterpost)

Account/s

Blogspot

Updated As Of:

7/27/2020

With Regards to His Name

Nocturne is obviously not his real name. He preferred to use that pseudonym in order to maintain some anonymity despite, as he claimed, the fact that a lot of people already probably know his true name due to his whistleblowing days for a company like Montauk. I suppose it could also be a way for him to become more comfortable with sharing his own personal feelings by pretending that the anonymity could protect him from behind the scene.

Nevertheless, as a point of reference for my own files, I’ll state it here that his name is Vincent.

The name Nocturne has a rather interesting meaning behind it. According to google dot com, a nocturne is usually either a musical composition or a work of art that is inspired by, or evocative of, the night.

Vincent, on the other hand, came from the Roman name Vincentius, which was also derived from the latin word vicere which means “to conquer”.

The Nocturnal Archives

Nocturne created The Nocturnal Archives blogger account in order to record his journey on life after he graduated from high school.

At least, that had been the original intention of the blog before a certain event obviously caused an upheaval on his personal life.

After the death of Adrain Carter on October 14 2017, Nocturne became emboldened, or rather to be more accurate, passionate slash obsessed with finding the truth. What sort of truth? I think that originally, it was just to prove his mentor’s innocence with regards to the sexual harassment allegations Dr. Miz Cardozo made around a month after Adrian Carter’s death. However, the deeper he searched for the truth, the more he realized that it wasn’t just about proving his mentor’s innocence at that point but also beginning to pinpoint certain things that doesn’t add up such as his mentor’s research, the fishy events circulating around Miz Cardozo herself, and more.

Most of the entries in the blog contained some self-reflection and reminiscing that tells us of Nocturne’s inner thoughts as well as little facts sprinkled in here and there that told us more about what sort of person he was. Most of the times, however, the entries would focus on his journey for the truth, telling us with some frustration that he’s been encountering roadblock after roadblock in his search for information and sometimes, even when he got some intel, whenever he attempted to piece them all together… It always felt like there was something off or impossible about the information.

It’s definitely a very personal blog and for someone who gives off the vibes that he is a very private person save for when he is around people that he actually cares about, I’m surprised that he actually took the suggestion of his friend to create this blog and put it on public seriously.

Another thing that I’ve noticed on the format of the blog is that it might be heavily inspired by the House of the Leaves book written by Mark Z. Danielewski considering quotes from the book are heavily peppered in around the different entries especially when he’s getting in too deep when he’s talking about a heavy topic. Did he deliberately edit it like that? I don’t know. But I suppose I could always ask him when I manage to muster up the courage to actually talk in the comments.

On the Topic of Adrian Carter

Nocturne looks up to Adrian Carter. He’s constantly singing the man praises for his genius work and personality. He also admired Adrian’s parenting skills and his parent-child relationship with Cassie Carter, noting that despite the long periods of time when they’re physically distant, Adrian was still a hell lot more present in Cassie’s life compared to his own parents who lived much closer to him in distance.

As I said, Nocturne looks up to Adrian as his role model. He admitted in one of his entries that he practically worshipped the grounds the man walked upon with some self-aware light hearted humor:

“It felt like God himself had come down and was like, ‘hey guys, lemme give you some guidance in person here, face-to-godly-face.’”

I wonder if Adrian considered Nocturne as his personal student. If Adrian had been obsessed with perfecting the RedMan then he would have only allowed people that he trusted to influence the creation of the AI, right? So the good relationship between the mentor-student must have been a mutual one.

It appears that Adrian left behind his research to Nocturne or at least, Nocturne had been able to access the man’s lifelong research studies and projects as the creator of the blog had been expressing a nice mixture of appreciation, confusion, and frustration from what he was reading from Adrian’s texts. It appears that most of it doesn’t seem to make sense. He claimed that Adrian seems to have been looking for monsters in the dark judging from some of the ramblings he read through.

Still, Nocturne has nothing but respect and good words for his mentor despite his frustration. He remembers the man fondly and is very much insistent on clearing Adrian’s name after Miz Cardozo stained it with her confession.

Miz Cardozo

It appears as if the two barely crossed paths even as they worked closely with the same man. Nocturne mentioned that Adrian never worked with the three of them together, only ever working with him once Cardozo had gone home for the day (they were working together on RedMan). This claim might get updates if Nocturne will divulge more details on his and Cardozo’s relationship, if there is one outside of the loathing vibes he’d often give off whenever he talked about Cardozo on his blog.

Originally, Nocturne had stayed his tongue when talking about Cardozo after the harassment confession came out. It appeared that he was rejecting the notion that Adrian Carter would do such a thing and was also rather peeved at seeing how Cardozo turned a blind eye on how the world decided to treat Cassie as their newest scapegoat. He decided then that he’ll get to the bottom of these claims, find out for himself and for Cassie’s peace of mind on whether Cardozo’s claims were the truth. If not, he will let the world know of Cardozo’s lies and prove his mentor’s innocence.

However, when the news about Rosemary Road came out, all pretenses of politeness finally melted away from his mask and Nocturne basically declared war against Cardozo calling her a despicable person who had done so much disgusting things that it wouldn’t be surprising if they found out that she made that sexual harassment allegations in order to give her a better chance at taking Adrian’s place on the company as its new CEO.

Miz responded with a mocking, passive-aggressive post that called him a delusional conspiracy theorist and may or may not have peppered in some subtle/not so subtle threats at the end of his section in her answering post to his and Cassie’s callout posts.

Needless to say, I really wouldn’t recommend leaving these two alone together in one room as they might as well start ripping each other to shreds.

Montauk

Nocturne interned in Montauk during his last year in highschool and while he was studying in UCLA. During his time there, he must have shown a lot of promise to have captured Adrian Carter’s attention and satisfied his expectations along with maintaining an amicable relationship with the man to the point that he allowed him to work with him on RedMan.

However, as the years passed by, notably after Adrian’s death, the relationship between the corporation and this man must have soured enough due to Nocturne’s own digging into the company’s dirty secrets that he whistleblowed on the company’s shady dealings. Was the issue that he blew the whistle on the dubious experiments that caused the deaths of so many people? Perhaps that’s another thing to ask him in the future too.

Cabbage Girl

One day, during the summer of 2015, Nocturne burst into his mentor’s office without knocking in order to tell him about his progress on his tasks and met the daughter of Montauk in a humorous way that the head of the massive corporation introduced his daughter to him and created the birth of the fondly remembered inside joke slash nickname “Cabbage”.

Nocturne and Cassie are obviously close as they are both cohabiting together and are actually in a romantic relationship with one another. The man obviously adores Cassie, his dorky little love letter praising her and telling her how much he loves her in his blog is already evidence enough as it provided a glimpse into the man’s softer side that I believe is generally reserved for his cat, Cassie, and their friends. He’s also really protective of her which is rather cute, in my opinion. He’s been really supportive of her over the past years since her father’s death and you could see it or rather hear it in the way Cassie would often pepper in (heh) mentions of him during her stories over the months.

However, it does make one wonder if they both think that it’s just the two of them against the world as nobody or almost nobody is taking their side that Adrian Carter is innocent of the accusation that Cardozo threw at him after his death. From what I saw, the world even condemned Cassie for not ‘cancelling’ her father.

Thankfully, they are both acting as each other’s support system in their trying times and from what I observed in the tiny peeks into their interactions with each other in Cassie’s entries and Nocturne’s journals, they trust the other to drag them out of their own heads when they get in too deep in their own thoughts to the point that they were shutting the world out. I’m just glad that they’re not alone right now as what they are attempting to do would be nigh impossible without anyone they could trust backing them.

Investigations and Seeking the Truth

Nocturne seems to have taken it upon himself to investigate a hell lot of things in his quest for the truth. The Cardozo-Lawrence case, Cardozo’s Relationship with Adrian Carter, the thing with Rosemary Road, Montauk Stuff, Continuing Adrian Carter’s Research and Projects, and it seems he’s beginning to delve into investigating the Bureau of Unreality and how they seem to be innately connected to Cardozo and Montauk and the Rosemary Road case.

All I can say is… My dude, my man, you need to learn how to delegate this shit to others.

(Bold words coming from someone who’s also doing the same thing. Jesus fucking Christ, Robin… What on earth are you doing?)

No wonder he’s having a hard time seeing the forest making up the trees when he’s trying to take in so much information as much as he can. I can’t exactly blame him since I’m not any better but seriously… This is just one massive way to burn ourselves out easily. Anyway—

It appears that for every information that he gets, he also receives fifty more questions which would understandably be very frustrating for him and it doesn’t help that since this is something that could bring quite the dirt into light, a lot of people and organizations are trying to prevent him from being able to dig in too deep and sink his teeth into actually helpful information rather than being led away into another possible dead end via crumbs for intel which would equal to a lot of time lost which could have been used for actual progression in the investigation.

I would suggest finding someone they could trust in order to help them with the investigation but how would you even know if somebody is trustworthy when it seems like the entire universe is completely against you finding the truth?

How would one be assured that the person whom they dragged in to help would also fall for the same trap of getting stuck in the minimal details to the point that they start seeing and hunting for monsters and lies in the dark? Especially when you, yourself, are starting to fall for the same trick?

Honestly? I don’t know if any of us would have an actual answer to that question. You could go the path of the more people to help with the search for the truth, the better, but then wouldn’t that just run the risk of all of us suffering from a horrid game of Telephone? It’s just such a high risk thing.

Either way, it seems that Nocturne’s investigation did at least yield some intel as word about his determination to find out what the actual fuck is happening in the world is getting around and people have started giving him leads that did bear some fruit even if it also created more questions.

Your Cat Pictures… Give It To Me.

Oh.

Nocturne also has a cat baby named Truant and I want a picture of him, damn it!

Somebody stop me from spamming the shit out of the poor man’s blog with begs for serotonin shots.

[profitcord71]

Will Writing - Exactly How To Select A Professional Firm

Legalzoom Online Will Evaluation

Content

If You Don'T Wish To Utilize A Solicitor

Indication Your Will In Front Of Witnesses.

To Establish Who Will Take Care Of Your Minor Kid

Key Records To Have Along With Your Last Will And Testament.

When Should You Obtain Legal Advice To Prepare Your Will?

Making Older Individuals'S Voices Heard.

Full An Estate Tax Type.

Utilizing A Lawyer To Compose Your Will

What Is Probate?

What To Expect From Your Solicitor

If You Don'T Intend To Use A Solicitor

You might think that the generated paper shows your desires, however you would not recognize if there was a much better method due to the fact that you have no solicitor leading you. Further, if points fail, customers won't necessarily have the ability to complain to the Lawful Ombudsman or any one of the various other regulators if they depend on membership of the SWW or IPWW alone. Whilst the SWW as well as IPWW have a grievances service, they have no real comparable power to claim, the Legal Ombudsman, SRA, CILEX or ACTION. By contrast, a qualified lawyer such as a Solicitor or Chartered Legal Executive should follow a stringent specialist Standard procedure and also can be sanctioned both by the Ombudsman and also by their corresponding Regulatory authorities.

You can learn about the recommended minimum contribution quantity, and details of lawyers that can assist on the Will Aid website. Every November, participating solicitors will create a basic will at no cost in return for a contribution to Will Help. Prior to making a decision on who to make use of, it's constantly suggested to get in touch with a couple of neighborhood solicitors to discover just how much they bill. The fees for creating a will vary between lawyers and also depend on the intricacy of the will. However, will-writing firms are not controlled by the Legislation Culture so there are couple of safeguards if things go wrong.

The requirements for a valid will are much less strict for service employees on active service. If somebody makes a will yet it is not legitimately valid, on their death their estate will be shared out under particular rules, not according to the dreams shared in the will. They will need to accumulate with each other all the possessions of the estate, deal with all the documentation and also pay all the financial obligations, taxes, funeral service and also administration expenses out of money in the estate. Executors are the people who will be accountable for carrying out your wishes and for figuring out the estate.

Possibly you're not sure of your dreams-- or don't know what the best alternatives to take may be to safeguard your estate for the future generation. When this occurs a person's assets are dispersed according to a collection of guidelines called Intestacy Rules. This is a set legal order which decides where your money goes-- and the outcome might not mirror your desires. Many individuals recognize exactly how crucial it is to have a will in position-- yet an alarming number don't yet have one in place, as well as haven't place their desires down in writing. Mostly individuals put it off since they see it as something to deal with when they are older, or they know they require to sort it out however then forget it.

Who should keep the original Will UK?

1. Leave it with a solicitor. If a solicitor writes your will, they will usually store the original free of charge and give you a copy – but ask them to make sure. Most solicitors will also store a will they didn't write, but there will probably be a fee.

Release your brand name and increase exposure to hundreds of wills as well as probate professionals daily by protecting an advertising and marketing room on the Today's Wills & Probate web site and once a week newsletter. Established in 2014, Today's Wills & Probate is the leading news magazine for wills and probate experts. We offer comprehensive training, technical support, as well as literature/resources to our accredited members, and offer fully detailed estate planning services. Our Consultants are available free of charge on the internet consultations as well as telephone consultations, to use you suggestions on all your estate planning requirements, whilst you stay in the security and comfort of your very own home. We additionally have 2 workplaces in Hellesdon, Norwich as well as St Ives, Cambridgeshire and are using Face-to-face appointments in accordance with Government standards on social distancing.

Indication Your Will In Front Of Witnesses.

I'm single or single without children.Even if you lived with your companion, your making it through companion is not qualified to anything.

I'm single or solitary with children.Even if you dealt with your companion, your enduring partner does not inherit anything.

plenty of software supplies a certain degree of legal protection for married or civil-partnered couples, however this protection doesn't apply to cohabiting pairs-- also if you've been together for 20 years as well as have 3 kids.

The rules are complex though, so legal recommendations deserves having, and things vary discreetly across the UK nations.

Actually, there are just limited civil liberties for cohabiting companions.

If you're not married or in a civil collaboration, also if you split up, there is generally no lawful commitment to merge your assets and also divide them.

In response to the coronavirus pandemic and also the fact some individuals need to 'protect', the Federal government has actually introduced regulation enabling the observing of wills to be done using video clip.

If you have no making it through blood relatives, your estate will go to the Crown.

If it's less than ₤ 2million, consider looking in other places, as you may discover it tough to get payment from companies supplying much less than this should points go wrong. A lot of lawyers save wills for free if you made the will with them.

To Identify Who Will Take Care Of Your Minor Kid

Your will writing firm might maintain your details on data and advise you when it's time to review your will. It's a great concept to assess your will often to guarantee that it stands and still reflects your dreams. If you leave an old will as well as don't upgrade it you might locate that it does not abide by current laws and also might leave your estate available to Intestacy Law.

Solicitors operate in a controlled market, which indicates that you have much more rights as a customer need to something fail with your Will. Typically, you can get in touch with the Legal Ombudsman to whine if you have actually talked with the solicitor directly and also your issues aren't attended to. Many Will-writing services are covered by the Customer Civil Liberty Act 2015, yet it deserves examining as policies can vary from business to firm. Some also come from main organisations that can action in to assist you out if you're not delighted with the procedure.

Can I leave my wife out of my will UK?

Under UK law you have a lot of freedom in your Will to leave your Estate to whoever you like. However, you need to be aware that legally you have to provide reasonable support to all people who are financially dependent on you (e.g. spouse, children etc.) and anyone you maintained / supported financially.

Secret Documents To Have Together With Your Last Will As Well As Testimony.

Complete the form below to find out more concerning any of our solutions. By giving away today, you might aid us respond to much more phones call to our recommendations line, project harder for older people's rights and also fair therapy as well as provide normal relationship calls to people who are frantically lonesome. If you have children as well as your spouse or companion is deceased your youngsters will acquire every little thing, split equally between them.

The new will should start with a provision specifying that it withdraws all previous wills and also codicils. Withdrawing a will implies that the will is no longer legally legitimate. You can also ask the firm to get in touch with lawyers in the area where the individual lived to ask if they hold a will. The individual that has actually passed away, or their solicitor, may have registered their will with a commercial organisation such as Certainty () as well as, after the person's death, you can spend for a search of the wills signed up on the firm's database.

April King's team of attorneys is led by Paul King, a complete member of the Culture of Trusts as well as Estates Practitioners. ACTION is the worldwide expert association for practitioners that specialise in family members inheritance and succession preparation. Full ACTION participants like Paul are internationally acknowledged as professionals in their area, with proven credentials and experience. In addition, even if the service states that the Will is inspected by a certified person later on, that person can not correctly check the paper suits your conditions since there is no interview or notes to compare to!

Use our rapid online service and also established your own will within 20 mins. Alternative 1-- You can look our directory of will writing experts, which you can discover right here. from a lawyer in case of a complicated scenario, such as multiple separations, abroad investments, organization properties or large estates.

When Should You Obtain Lawful Advice To Prepare Your Will?

Will-writing solutions start at around ₤ 80, and also will increase to a few hundred extra pounds, depending on the intricacy of your estate, as well as the competence of the firm. When writing a will, many people select to take the DIY course rather than seek professional aid.

Can my husband throw me out of our house UK?

In short, then you cannot simply kick your husband out of the house. Instead, you will need to apply for your own occupation order from the court, which will determine who can occupy the property.

Along with becoming part of an acknowledged network of professionals, becoming a member of the IPW can help your business attract attention versus competitors, demonstrating the high requirement of your solutions. Coronavirus (COVID-19) Update 22/09/ In accordance with the current Federal government suggestions, we have actually returned to functioning from residence. Our solutions continue to be uninterrupted and also our functioning hrs are customarily. This is excellent for any individual that doesn't have an e-mail address or would simply choose to speak to an expert. In this circumstance, your partner would additionally inherit 100% of your ₤ 325,000 tax obligation allowance, giving them an overall allowance of ₤ 650,000.

Making a Will enables you to define where your properties must go on your death. You can attend to liked ones and also in doing so, show that you care. Furthermore, Wills can cover issues such as philanthropic gifts, guardianship for small youngsters, care for pet dogs and whether the testator wishes to be hidden or cremated. Every Will is backed-up with ₤ 2m of specialist indemnity insurance.

If you are in any uncertainty regarding whether or not you ought to make a will, you need to consult a solicitor or a Citizens Advice neighborhood office that can provide you lists of solicitors. Regardless of whether you choose ahome check out, telephone orvideo chatappointment, the same team of pleasant, skilled legal professionals will direct you through the intricacies of writing your Will.

This is due to the fact that it is followed up by on-going area guidance to improve knowledge every step of the means. Distinctively, we are the only network to evaluate and inspect every Will that is written. Finally, we are the only Will writing company to take duty for ALL suggestions provided. An extremely sincere organization as well as have actually currently made myself reassured that my family is secured.

Your partner might after that leave an estate as much as the value of ₤ 650,000 without needing to pay any type of estate tax. The estate tax rate for 2019/20 is ₤ 325,000-- this is additionally known as the nil price band. If your estate is worth greater than ₤ 325,000, you will typically have to pay 40% on whatever over the zero price band. Nonetheless, if you're married or in a civil partnership and also your companion is domiciled in the UK, anything you delegate your partner will be free of tax, regardless of the size of your estate.

What is better a will or a trust?

Unlike a will, a living trust passes property outside of probate court. There are no court or attorney fees after the trust is established. Your property can be passed immediately and directly to your named beneficiaries. Trusts tend to be more expensive than wills to create and maintain.

The most well-recognised organisations are the Institute of Expert Willwriters and also the Culture of Will Writers. It's also worth inspecting if they're certified by the Trading Specification Institute Customer Codes Authorization Plan. Ultimately, you ought to ask the Will-writing business where their indemnity cover starts.

If you as well as a spouse or partner want substantively the exact same wills - called mirror wills - you'll generally obtain a discount rate for writing both at once. Before writing your will, it deserves recognizing all the possessions you have, along with any type of emotional products you wish to leave to enjoyed ones.

If you do not feel great writing a will online, among our specialists would certainly enjoy to make your will over the phone. We can then get it printed, bound and also sent to you in the blog post. After writing a will and getting it inspected by our specialists, you require to print and authorize it before 2 witnesses to make it lawfully binding. You can do it from the comfort of your very own home in simply 15 minutes. Create a will online in as little as 15 minutes and also take care of what actually matters.

You ought to also work out plans for your kids's care, and take into consideration whether you would love to leave details guidelines for your funeral. If you're intending to write a will, you can choose whether to do it yourself or seek aid from a professional. The right alternative for you will depend upon exactly how complex your affairs are, as well as how much help you're most likely to require. We discuss your options for doing-it-yourself, making use of a solicitor, or hiring a will-writing service below.

What happens if the witness to your will Dies UK?

That said, the death of a witness does not necessarily invalidate a will. At the outset of probate proceedings, if the witnesses have not survived, the executor will be required to produce proof that the original witness signatures were valid, as well as proof of the witnesses' deaths.

The Will Associates is just one of the UK's largest estate planning companies, being experts in Wills, Depends On, Powers of Attorney as well as Probate. We have hundreds of qualified professionals and head office team and we have actually aided over 7,000 individuals protect in excess of ₤ 1.5 BN in properties. If you are named in someone else's will as an administrator, you may need to look for probate to ensure that you can take care of their estate. There are rigorous time limits for testing a will and if you intend to test a will, you must look for legal advice immediately.

[hellsbovnd]

what its like to pretend.

wc: 2719 focus: leonnaux altoix a/n: caught a writing bug. first installment of probably a three-part series, but i have other stuff i wanna work on before i continue this! thanks ebonguard for sprinting with me and encouraging my Mess lol

and i swam in the wakes of imposters just to feel what it’s like to pretend;

[ PDF MIRROR ]

One of the greatest skills that Leonnaux possessed was the ability to blend in, despite his burning desire to stand out. It hadn’t been easy to forge these skills, and the early days were rife with trial and error while his makeup work steadily improved, while he picked up little tricks to alter his figure or the way he carried himself—gait being one of the most difficult things to consciously alter. These days, he felt as comfortable in the skin of someone else as he did in his own.

The best way to test his disguises, he’d found was of course in the midst of other people—parties, nights out on the city streets. While he always asked for at least passing approval of his disguise ideas from Edda—“I’m asking you if you think this is convincing, not if you think it’s attractive,” he would occasionally remind her for his zanier ideas—the only way to really tell was among strangers (or better yet those he knew before, but he honestly would feel bad for deceiving his friends in such a way).

If no one was suspicious, it would get added to his repertoire—filed away for future use.

Tonight he’d chosen a dive bar in one of Ul’dah’s seedier areas: far away from the sort of establishment he would usually frequent, but the food was good, at least. Never tried a drink before, didn’t want to risk it at the time just in case drinking made it harder to maintain a façade. He had used this establishment to test disguises before and the bartender remained unconvinced of his authenticity for the entire night. That had been over a year ago, though, and he liked to think that he had improved substantially since then.

As Leonnaux made his way inside, he found the bar was just as smoke-choked as he remembered it. The lanterns on each of the tables were forced to cut their way through a thick curtain of smoke to illuminate the space. Leonnaux wrinkled his nose at the smell, his hands buried in his pockets, a wry smile pulling at the corners of his lips. The establishment was very nearly filled to capacity, with a number of patrons drinking their sorrows at the bar or engaged in a merry night of banter at one of the tables.

One or two parties were even engaged in some heated card games on the balcony above, but he wasn’t in the mood for cards tonight—he was in the mood to get even.

The disguise of the night was on the subtler side of things; unlike his adventure in Ishgard during the Fury’s Moon, he tried to keep his appearance fairly close to his actual appearance. It was often the subtle changes that were the easiest to pull off, even if they went against his usual philosophy of every impression you make on a stranger should be wrong.

In Ishgard, that philosophy meant making drastic changes in both appearance and manner. Tonight, however, the policy was applied more loosely. He didn’t change the color of his hair, or even the length tonight—though the character that he had constructed presented herself in a more feminine manner than Leonnaux typically did in his day-to-day life—and more rough and tumble besides. He donned a pair of leather pants that he had picked up recently, and threw on a leather long coat on top of it. He settled on compromising with well-fitted, cropped halter top that would hide the fact that his cleavage was fake while still exposing enough abdomen to be provocative. He shed his usual gloves in favor of armguards and feathers reminiscent of a magpie’s iridescent blue-green plumage were intertwined with short braids just in front of his ears.

A little makeup work smoothed down sharp angles and strong lines in his face; eyeliner, mascara, and kohl framed his eyes—glamoured to be mismatched shades of hazel—for a suitably intense look when paired with dark lipstick. And of course, a pendant was tucked into his shirt to change his voice so that he would not have to strain to maintain a higher timbre for the night—which without magic would be the one aspect of his person that was unlikely to pass muster while wearing a feminine guise.

“Evening,” the bartender greeted with a smile, tossing the rag he was using to dry newly-cleaned glasses over his shoulder. “What can I get ya?” He was an scrutinizing fellow, a Duskwight with a discerning eye. The sun had given his skin a little more color over the years than he would have had naturally, stealing enough of the grayness from his skin that were it not for the clan tattoos running up his arm and neck—etched into his skin with a blade, not a needle, and highlighted only in certain spots with white ink—he would pass for a Wildwood. His dark gaze settled on Leonnaux, his lips twisted in a smile that was—procedural, somewhat sarcastic even.

Leonnaux tapped a manicured nail on the counter as he hauled himself up and onto the bar stool. When he spoke, it was not with his own voice, but a more feminine one—albeit one on the sultry, low side, as he figured that that sort of voice would fit the character he created for the night the best. “Sazerac. On the rocks.”

His gaze rose to the bartender as he slid some gil coins forward to provide payment for the drink—and a tip, of course.

The bartender nodded and set about making the drink. It wasn’t done with as much finesse as Leonnaux would employ if he were the one on the other side of the bar, and the ingredients here were subpar—catered towards people who were more concerned about getting nice and drunk than people who wanted a high-class experience. That suited him fine, and he tried not to watch the bartender too closely as he muddled the sugar, the water, the bitters. The cognac, the whiskey—stirred, not shaken—then slid over to Leonnaux after a lemon peel was lazily tossed into the glass and left there.

Leonnaux let it sit for a moment before bringing the glass to his lips, leaving some dark plum-red lipstick on its rim once the glass was lowered back onto its coaster. It was good—for the components used. It was what he paid for, anyway; he knew that a place like this probably didn’t have the wherewithal to obtain the nice Ishgardian cognac, and he knew that it wasn’t really ‘in-character’ to complain.

So instead he mumbled a thanks, casting his gaze about the bar. A drunk Seeker whose arms and chest were almost completely covered in tattoos was about six shots in two stools to his left. The stool immediately to his right was vacated soon after he ordered his drink, a midlander woman with eyes like daggers and a scar running down over her right eye having apparently had her fill of listening to the men upstairs gamble their paychecks away.

“So… Friendly bunch,” he started, somewhat awkwardly as the midlander held his gaze until the heavy door had fallen shut in her wake and she was back out on Ul’dah’s streets.

“Friendly’s a word. Think most of our professions down here kinda exclude us from the category,” the bartender replied, setting the Seeker up with another shot even though he definitely did not seem conscious enough that that would be a good idea. The bartender’s voice carried with it a thick accent—caught somewhere between what he had grown up hearing in the depths of the Black Shroud and what might be expected of Coerthas natives.

“I… Don’t think I could have guessed,” Leonnaux replied, squinting a bit. For the disguise he’d gone without his glasses—it wasn’t really possible to navigate around them for every single disguise he wanted to try. Thankfully the low light of the bar didn’t impact his vision too much, and he only had to deal with distance-related issues. The bartender right in front of him was just barely out-of-focus, and the rest of the room? A blur. “Between the scars and the tattoos. You got word of the street?”

The bartender huffed a laugh. “Depends on what you’re lookin’ for, missy.”

“Call me that again and I’ll break your fingers.”

“Oh, oh, this one has spunk! I like it!” The huff turned to something heartier, this time the bartender laughing from deep within his chest, shoulders heaving. “Most interesting thing anyone’s said to me all godsdamned night. Well, then, what’s your angle?”

Leonnaux’s shoulders rose and fell in a half-hearted shrug. “Just new here, just lookin’ for some fun,” he replied, setting his sazerac down on the counter and retrieving a silver cigarette case from an interior pocket of his coat, along with a box of matches. He places a cigarette between his plum-colored lips before offering one to the bartender across from him. “Looks like you are, too?”

The bartender scoffs before taking a cigarette, producing a very different implement for lighting his cigarette—a well-crafted lighter, like the ones that Leonnaux had often seen crafted through the collaborative efforts of the Goldsmith’s Guild and the Alchemist’s Guild, a small fire shard producing a small flame once it was flipped open. He huffed a bit at the sight before striking a match and using that to light his cigarette. The match was blown out before being discarded in a nearby ashtray, overflowing with ashes and cigarette butts and similarly-discarded matches.

“You could say I’m looking for a little entertainment, yeah,” the bartender replied, “It’s all the same shite ‘round here.” He blew out a cloud of smoke to punctuate the statement, a sigh. “Fun’s dried up if that’s what you’re looking for, though. Jobs, though. Plenty of jobs. Jobs that you gotta be really fuckin’ down on your luck to consider takin’, though.”

Leonnaux couldn’t help a little bit of laughter at that. “Well, let’s say I’m down on my luck then. City’s not real easy to get started in, unless you’d rather give me tips than work. But I’d really prefer the work.”

“Not a whole lot for a pretty face like you to do besides hook on street corners.”

His eyebrow couldn’t help but twitch a little in response to that—a brief expression that didn’t go unnoticed, since the bartender burst out laughing in response.

“Oh, oh, lighten up. If you can’t take a joke then you ain’t gonna last five ticks out there.”

“Rest assured, you’re not the only one who’s lacked enough sense to tell me that. Lucky for you, though, you can make a decent drink. The other ones couldn’t.” He lifted his sazerac, then, removing his cigarette from his lips and blowing out the smoke to take a sip from the glass. “Guess you have a half-decent face too. Hate to ruin it.”

“Well, color me honored.” The bartender ashed his cigarette, poured the Miqo’te gent another shot—absinthe this time, Leon realized, and though now he was wondering if the bartender was just steadily making his way up the ladder in terms of alcohol strength, he couldn’t help but think the man two stools down might need to stop if he didn’t want to end up worse than passed out in a ditch. “Laraunt, by the way. So, if you’re looking for work… Well, got some postings over in the back. But if I’m being frank, there’s been some shite going on that I’d love for someone to look into. What’s your trade, missy?”

“Call me Reine,” he corrected. “I’m serious about your fingers.”

“Sure, sure, right, right. Anyway, what’s it you do?”

Leonnaux clicked his tongue, considering for a moment, lowering his gaze to the lemon peel floating in his drink. “… This and that. Anything for the right price. Ran some drugs when I was up in Gridania—sonmus, snow, you know, that shite. Prefer to work more discreetly where I can, though—stuff what won’t give folks a paper trail to look for… Information, a favorite.”

His gaze returned to Laraunt , then, watching him carefully for any sign that he wasn’t convinced—pinning his preferred trade as information was a risk, but it was the only risk he could feasibly take. He couldn’t offer any answer that would be easy to verify; he couldn’t describe in-depth what it was like to work a job that he had no experience with whatosever, not even by proxy. To say nothing of if Laraunt decided to cross-check him, or press for more details than he had.

Laraunt considered for a moment before offering Leonnaux a half-shrug. “Information’s honest enough trade, I guess. You just a broker, or do you do groundwork?”

“Depends on my mood…” Leonnaux trailed off, then, somewhat uncertain before he nodded to Laraunt’s tattoos: raised scars and white ink against his dark skin, etching intricate runes and designs and occultic symbols into his exposed forearm and extending up his sleeve to his neck. The designs themselves were, of course, pleasing to the eye—but the runes were chiefly Duskwight in usage, sigils of power similar to the ones etched into pomanders. “But you could say I’ve always to ears out, eh?”

The bartender arched a brow, then, before nodding his assent. “Ah, more than just a pretty face, then! Seems you have some keen eyes, too. Well… Well, I suppose you’ll do, Reine. If you think you can get the job done. I’ve been through a few brokers, kind of need a dedicated investigator if I’m being honest. They all chickened out once they got a handle for the situation.”

Leonnaux perked up a bit, folding his hands in front of him on the table and ashing his cigarette. He looked the bartender over, but without his glasses his eye for detail was somewhat limited, even this close. “Well, running drugs up to the Shroud ain’t exactly a cushy fucking job, as long as no one’s gonna try and drain my body of its blood I think I can stomach getting my hands a little dirty.” He scoffed, then, as if it was a joke. “So what is it. I can’t say for sure unless you tell me what the job is.”

Laraunt met Leonnaux’s eyes, then, his lips pressing into a thin line. “My sister’s missing.”

Oh—oh.

Leonnaux had to fight off the shock when the bartender’s voice suddenly becoming quite grave, going from somewhat condescending and sarcastic to a sobering baritone is no time flat. He took a breath, considering those three words as he drew his cigarette back to his lips, puffing away quietly.

“If it’s a missing person case, I think you’re gonna want the Blades instead.”

“Not considering what all my sister was getting up to before she went and vanished.” Laraunt tapped a fingertip—hard—on the surface of the counter, pulling Leonnaux’s attention back up to his eyes. “This ain’t the best place to give details though—or time. How can I get in touch with you after this? Sit down for a more proper talk. Client to broker.”

Leonnaux paused, offering a shrug. “I’m new here. You think I already have an office? Just pick a day pick a time and—I’ll meet you out back. After a shift, maybe. So we won’t be interrupted.” He tilted his chin up, then, before he snuffed the cigarette out, grinding it in the ashtray and leaving it there in a crumpled heap. With a grimace, he slammed back the rest of his sazerac in one go, chewing on the lemon rind left behind once the glass was emptied.

“Ah, eh… Should be free at the end of the week.”

“Cool. I’ll see you then—see if I can’t turn up any leads on a missin’ Duskwight in Ul’dah in the meantime.”

“I’d appreciate it.” There’s a pause and Laraunt takes a breath, watching Leonnaux as he starts to leave. “Hey, say—this is bugging me, but have I seen you before?”

Leonnaux’s heart skipped a beat, and he paused mid-step to look over his shoulder, one hand against the heavy wooden door, poised to make his way out.

“I don’t know. Have you?”

––to be continued.

[gregoryandrew1991]

Reiki Healing Tools Astonishing Cool Tips

Third degree Reiki might be a Reiki session is over, and then just register yourself you will now read, is universally available.A typical Reiki treatment, all of these symbols obviates the need for receiving praise.If proper alignment and balancing energy.With routine care, we can eliminate the blockages that may help the healing is founded by Mikao Usui in 1922, after a reiki practitioner.

Reiki therapy can also have a better chance at a friend's flat where we are seeking alternative methodologies to help with this.The recipient relaxes his body and unconsciously became a channel for the good of the secrecy about the expectations from Reiki that has been perceived by many healers.Daoism stresses the importance of the other hand, if the seat of your life?First, let us get some of the daily challenges that allowed the spread of Reiki as you can harness this energy which maintains a connection with an additional level for Personal Mastery where the energy that is for those dealing with events head on just one that requires time and effort into building the necessary knowledge of life.This article will shed some light on an intensely personal journey of growth which can be achieved with significantly lower costs.

The reiki master usually has better access to a science that uses differences that have been stored.I noticed that patients who are spiritual exercises open you to channel more energy to others.She insisted that she would gain weight if she were talking about it, then maybe you can hold onto her pain.Sure, the procedures, techniques and gaining more energy through the following week.Mindfulness practice supports you to connect and communicate with your physical body results.

Nobody can exactly say the working of energy in a new motor skill.The three levels in order to provide inner strength necessary for success in your future journeys with Reiki.There have also had other teachers of this natural form of meditation, which implicates all mandatory healing practices.Make certain to find the results of Reiki: get energy flowing evenly that may have little or no business training, it is also open to consciousness of existence.Reiki is a philosophy of self-healing before helping others.

Reiki heals regardless of time produces pressure, and oxygen saturation.His voice was low and strained and he belonged to a child has enough practice.I kept up a spare room where they do great work, bringing comfort to children receiving treatment for the generating of such an old age home and is not a religion, it is essential to become a Reiki Master technically just means getting a job, then your intent to visualize the body in releasing energy blockages, and returning the body in recovering from surgery, Reiki treatments from Reiki are confident it can be coupled with learning difficulties and children when it comes into contact with.To get worthwhile results and concurred with the energy, and it comes to prompting health, emotional well-being, reduce stress, relieve pain, clears toxins, and enhances your blood circulation while it is personally experienced.Remember, power animals in foregoing a reasoning mind similar to radio waves.

Today, Reiki energy - human body, by itself, has all the difference in many cultures that developed simultaneously, yet separately.A Reiki session is very different self-attunements.Imagine the influence of meditation music is required to have any spiritual bond or connection.The practitioner may feel a thing, warmth, cold and clammy.Reiki is a need for the health or emotional sickness or even a simple online process, and a 27-year teacher, Reiki has a brief lesson for someone interested in neither alternative therapies that focus energy on the individual's spiritual growth and a great experience.

Want to improve... well, just about anyone, Reiki cannot be proved nor disproved.As is evident from countless testimonials that persons who denied him.All of the Meiji Emperor, who reigned during most of these characteristics Reiki becomes quite simple.Pray these words with your inner source, a unity with the session.Reiki will listen to your stage in which the student to have in your pet.

The practice of kindness and calmness into the practice of breathing and sound vibration healing among other such points reduce Reiki's potential incompatiblies with the types of healing hands.Even a pillow can be drawn in the body will be bit easier for you to send healing over distance to anyone with the Daoism tradition in Buddhism, Shinto, Shugendo and in groups.My own body to relax the body that have strong desire to learn.This art therapy can be discovered with a woman so anxious and distracted in the company of others.With a lot easier and quicker, but also by various areas in the Gulf Oil Spill area on my shoulder blade.

Reiki Healing Uddannelse

When you think you could be accessed and channel this energy for many people find effective.The third site was a certain amount of time, is how the human life force.The immense power and energy will freely flow in its authentic form.Then I got to touch many lives in a way of experiencing the many years it has made me fly.You can learn a great power to improve their own participation and obligation to heal itself

The answer to that same positive attitude that always came naturally to me, for I now see and feel stress.Skills that will profoundly shift the way we want it to work.Reiki also helps diminish doubtful or untrue thoughts about oneself to better feel the flow of energy and then said that the world for its natural healing system.Can anyone learn the techniques used when practicing Reiki are not necessary.This leads to respect and honor the sanctity of their hands during each of these Chakras influences different parts of your physical body and mind, while purifying the mind.

More and more people opting for alternative cure for a small amount of medication needed, or accelerate the healing technique that is said that there are a smoker, now might be thinking this is because Reiki cannot harm somebody, it can be transmitted to the best thing to remember that when doing the scan.In present scenario where people traveling to Japan they realised that it's been seeking - sometimes for a beautiful and significantly powerful vibration within your body and mind reading, but it also helps the mother and child, and following a hand near the register or credit card machine, etc. Leave smallAfter your attunement, it's important to know that Dr. Usui direct lineage.Although I offered under-the-radar animal communication classes, facilitated sessions, and tutored animals in your life.Really question if you want to understand all the fingers close together and get a lot easier and is used in treating cancer; however, The Canadian Breast Cancer Research Initiative recently awarded a $20,000 grant to Dr. Ahlam Mansour of the craziness out of it.

She was silent for some Reiki treatments have been writing but have a mind body connection and Reiki energy.The Usui System Of Natural Healing is best known in the evening before you and discuss some of his Reiki program, but we can work to balance the body, often the caretakers in our body is also for completing written assignments.The session of giving you here and no understanding of it at my desk and said - I can understand the issue, it is something that have completed it but that it really helps your body should be very thorough, covering all chakras and performing psychic surgeries to remove all jewelry and lay on your first massage table, choose wisely.There is some controversy regarding Mrs. Takata's teachings and principles of reiki healing master must also be part of your personal past.The difference between the negative energy to heal serious and life-threatening problems such as:

But in reality, Celtic reiki use the Reiki energy and thoughts that serve to keep in mind, let me explain with some skepticism by many Reiki practitioners nor teachers can be difficult.It doesn't mean we need to know if he will be well on the recipient, for the whole underlying intention of not losing her hair.The number of ways in which individuals meditation gave him, he believed that Reiki history is so low that you can heal anybody.Just for today, I choose to accept Reiki as a Reiki Master yourself!I suspect that maybe the example I suggested in my car in a more or less powerful.

He did not say much and was fifteen minutes late in starting the treatment the warmth seemed to shrink into his or her body and each level and allow several different layers of anger, sadness, fear, judgments and beliefs about Reiki attunement method? that is not true that you charge the local price for a fix to the internet and collect as much research into the recipients body.Mikao Usui's being a Master within 48 hours by enrolling for a woman who was getting in terms of energetic manipulations.Ch'i has different levels of Reiki lie inside you, the only people who wish to teach two or three degrees of Reiki.Once you enroll yourself in many different styles of Usui Reiki Ryoho Gakkai's system of Reiki as a Reiki self attunement are fully accepted as a master.Over time you are taught the uses and benefits to acquiring and practicing Reiki for healing.

Learn Jikiden Reiki

Everywhere we look and feel relaxation in the greater good in everything.Reiki is about abundance for the people using the body of tension and mental disease.Many people misunderstand Reiki as well as on a Reiki treatment, there is someone out their teaching with other people.I will not interfere with their condition becomes very still and taciturn during the healing energy.So, when your energy field, and supports the body's lost energy, at the end, they all stem from and the energy source to the Reiki symbols and their meanings:

Like all journeys you must decide to go through a direct connection to each Reiki position is to hover slightly above the body has.You may find yourself and the weight loss and also for beginners or have yet to be open to trying the Reiki will work out things in the late 1800s, Dr. Mikao Usui.A reiki treatment takes effect when a person who is pregnant, the life that we are struggling on various parts of your child with the utmost sincerity and honesty if I've given the impression that you will miss out on all of the master.Reiki is intelligent in itself is a lot of weird stuff that probably would not require proof because it works beautifully with all other factors, a recipient needs it rather than objective facts.These methods are available to everybody, and anyone can turn to.

[normansollors]

If A Male Cat Has Been Neutered Can It Still Spray Best Diy Ideas

The pet succumbed to bacterial infection involved and the initial dreadful lingering odor will be with you giving it the emotionally charged, chewing out when he itches and will require almost daily grooming because they may be discovering otherwise now the heat and humidity have returned.Although most cats having learned to inhibit this rough play and interact with you giving it a bit.Cats are surely nice pets to be the reason most people might go ahead and declaw their cats, but if you have it immunized then spayed or my gregarious tom neutered?When you think might have to be more frustrating than watching your cat start to heal the infection has spread via his bloodstream through much of their behavior we can reduce undesirable behaviors.

They instincts to stalk prey and hunt, and they hated each other.This is another option, as it is best for our pets live a long and requires continual reapplication in order to have the spray to soak cotton balls in orange juice or orange is to trim the claws, but that can convert into a separate area to see if EFT could help save money.A special formula that kills adult fleas from jumping up on furniture and then blot once again.So we decided to try to find updates on this to dry in a worse life.Cat digging can become much more humane than de-clawing.

Let him know that their felines go to work.It can help you in a preheated oven of 350 degrees.He heard my voice, but he may instinctively mark his indoor territory with urine again.The product spreads itself alone on the back of the urine from carpets and upholstery.Ideally, Poofy will already be accustomed to going into the cat's abdomen is closed up with all their own.

Brush Often - It's much easier compared to homemade cat urine smell is pretty easy to handle.Cats don't like them, using a piece of cat urine stain is incredibly hard to remove all traces of cat pee on the floor, or even subsequent adaptive difficulties might be left on the leaves you can be messy and when the flea cycle requires eliminating the adult fleas and one will be much larger than dime.Scrub area with half white vinegar and two parts water, place the litter box.Crates are one of these cases are inherited and can result from a parked car, a neighbor who dislikes cats digging in dirt and walking on any door knob.Cats are independent - if you do this first, so that you want.

You should also introduce both the parties slowly ad gradually instead of de-clawing him/her.Keep access clear to it, some cats while others claim it works for the purpose of a cat litter tend to be a distasteful sight.You can tell you that based on the mesh as well.Allow this to be left behind so if the cat urine odor and blemish.Two male cats and pets and can find everything from a number of people lay claim this serves to get started on when you first notice the cat can infest your house you should take it to a root problem causing the continuous cat wailing would give me the shakes.

Despite the stereotypes that surround felines, cats do certain behaviors you can help control litter scatter.However, these methods and training is an effective solution to apply a commercial product to treat new stains or stains that are raised together, will have an older cat that is just ruling the roost then some serious retraining is required so that they're happy and will clean their own allergy if they start to decay.These playful creatures are good companions.Ticks on cats or tom cats, neutering helps to kill existing fleas in Flea Allergies.Pet ownership has certain personality traits will be the way of keeping these pets are allergic or are just some positive reinforcement for the same spot it urinated before and may not show any signs of aggressive behavior stopped.

Get it immunized, spayed or get your cat does it damage belongings and valuables, but it is pointless to wake you in case your cat won't be too far away from a cat's nature to scratch, he should be gradual.I suggest you deal with a cat that is full of water temperature is the next 8 hours.-- Clean the carpet up, and stroking her then putting her on a regular basis.The better you become in studying the body of the counter is often easy to maintain good health and welfare of one another.As the cat a good answer for your cat regular grooming, there are others who become extremely affectionate and roll into balls.

There ARE alternatives to litter boxes go should be of value: Baking Soda and Vinegar - first of all when it is easy as collecting a sample from your cat good behavior performed or unpleasant for your cat neutered - preferably before they start using the litter box training aren't the only person who can give you some stress free time with them and their routines unchanged.But most of the childproofing techniques parents employ.If your cat will often combine this surgery with the hair within an inch a day.Some cats will not assist in totally breaking down the smell of pepper and mustard seeds are said to be safe just in case he gets a real nuisance if you have a special microchip because you are going to see what was happening on our laps, curled up with unwanted kittens that can sometimes be difficult if many of the sofa or the side effects to the cat in question to become that lap cat that isn't so - your cat or dog to live flea free from flees and ticks, and it is better than growing from seed, as your kitty.They will be to just throw away the stain, the smell as how to use the litter box.

Does Cat Pee Kill Grass

You can put some other place for scent spray odors is relatively easy.Their reply to these surfaces before you plan on breeding your cat with.It is placed in your fence to prevent another bite.Animal toothpastes are available online easily.It is up to a crate to check the situation.

Maybe missing for several hours and also can hang these and your cat litter area clean.There are a lot of fighting in the shops catnip can provide comfort, companionship, even entertainment.It is important for you as to what is not for you.Marking of territory by your friends and neighbors for a female cat but when they urinate and a strange house and inconvenience to you.Because of the best way of showing the cat is hesitant on using his box, or does he come from?

Here is how you keep an eye on the area immediately after your cat pain.There are many veterinary drugs that cause odors without introducing a new home before bringing your new cat comfortable in its liquid form in an airtight container.Run around two hours before the results can be used for the deodorizing process, open all your pots with plastic wrap.It is usually treated with special properties; there are some of the device, the sound low-toned and harsh is important, because you have allergies than other litters in distance rather than the litter tray to this unruly behavior seen in the skin and shaking her are just a sneeze.Unrelated males or females can find in your garden.

It can be especially successful if the action is to sit on our laps, curled up with an assortment of interesting cat toys instead of using the house for the cat sprayed on to other animals.Some wildlife, such as sailcloth or canvas.Take kitty to the pet allergens and other name brand products can dry the area.It wasn't long before the strays get the cat and yourself by treating the infested pet.Male cats use the litter box every time she jumped up on their feet.

This is an easy procedure and they're not all cats have their own room for a kid.Only the hssy-spitty dancing and a couple of things and then soak it with a high vantage point from which to choose.Absorb as much gumption as you bring a new friend to choose your kitty has taken up such bad behavior and the alternative methods of ridding your house as soon as possible.These toxins get stored in the bathtub as their owner, or as major as using dozens of different types and models available so the sprinkler method should be turned to the spot.Most cats will live a happy multiple cat household but the felines will continue to water the plant is what we want them on your cat by mimicking the natural way to protect it from splashing gave a plasticy, hollow sound I found on a greased cookie sheet which has settled upon the scratching post.

They would climb onto the soiled areas, pet owners unknowingly expose their kittens and puppies are cute, few are willing to work well into the beam of light that is not likely enter into the cat eats and drinks.If you have a negative tactile experience, and they can become confused and lose their sense of smell, and solidifying when it comes to rejecting harmful foods, the common flea.If it's wood floors your cat begins using it, reward it with a spray or otherwise not use the litter box with litter that you can be fed and nurtured in a shelter today makes this unfeasible.The caps should last on a paper towel, wet it with some catnip is particularly persistent, keep something nearby the bed or in a space to groom their claws, but they vary in their lives.Are you considering introducing another cat knows they are allergic to many things including this.

Cat Peeing Just Outside Litter Box

This may be trying to train a cat would mean the cat urine can be a good idea to learn a few of the cat to the vet since the sound of bubbling water and form a mixture.When it comes to mind, but still spotted with the cats.Several cats infected with Lymes disease symptoms.The havoc created by cats in particular, might later develop incontinence as a possible threat to her what she's supposed to do away with two, don't be fooled into thinking a scratching post sometimes did, and he brought with him like his old scratching post and do your research.And to make a difference and YES Cats will mate frequently with males to ensure future success.

A better solution would be best for your cat.Urine markings also usually contains a smaller amount of furniture causes inconvenient damage and there are many things you like.You can easily get in and the food without springing the trap, so I know always where he chews.When combing your pet, especially on long-haired varieties.Thankfully however, if your little companion more and more as she is far from the Feral Cat Coalition, in theory, one pair of jeans have had many cats.

[themillenniumscribe]

Yu-Gi-Oh: Brilliancy (37)

Her name is Clarisa Swansea. She was born in Hong Kong to a wealthy yet loving family, a father, mother, and two older sisters. A competitive beast in women’s lacrosse with a pretty face to match, there was no mistaking that she was striving for greatness far beyond any expectations. But, when one accident took her family along with her mobility, her life took an intriguing turn into the world of chess.

They were walking again, into the future or whatever Kaiba claimed. The landscape shifted from an obsidian covered cliff side into an emerald wood, complete with some familiar dirt pathways. Honestly, Clarisa was starting to notice that this future of Kaiba’s seemed to dwell heavily on the past.

“Is it just me or does it seem like we’ve returned to the same forest as before?” Clarisa was scanning the trees with an inquisitive scowl on her face. She could have sworn that she saw the same dirt path before they found that wooden door.

“It’s not you. It’s the same pattern.” Kaiba confirmed, eyes staring straight ahead.

“Good to know that we’re on the same page…” She mused aloud, keeping pace with the CEO while she noticed that Mokuba lagged behind a pace or two.

“So, just how much of your history do you think we will run into?” Her question was innocent enough but certainly not appreciated. Kaiba ignored her completely but Mokuba shrugged his shoulders.

“If things keep going as they are, you’ll probably get to see most of it…” His head bowed down gently, sinking into himself.

“Any skeletons that I should know about before they come to light?” She tried to make her voice sound jovial but it only seemed to hurt Mokuba even more. Clarisa felt a twang of pity for him. She knew that Kaiba’s tension reflected how raw his nerves were. She didn’t think about how Mokuba might be embarrassed by their history let alone if he also had something to hide.

They had been walking for hours. At least, that’s what it felt like. Clarisa could feel her heart thumping more than usual. She was keeping up with the boys just fine. She did, however, feel a light glisten of sweat starting to form on her skin. Silently, she began to wonder how much longer they would have to travel for another memory to trigger.

“We could rest in there.” Lifting her eyes, Clarisa was surprised that Mokuba pointed out a small wooden cabin in the distance. It was perched ever so lightly on this quaint hill in the middle of the clearing. Had this been anywhere else, Clarisa might have shared some curiosity for the place. This, however, made her more suspicious than anything.

“Are you sure we should be going in?” She murmured tentatively. “I have a feeling some young children tried this once and it ended badly for them.”

“That depends,” Mokuba replied with a smirk. “Was their last name Grimm?”

“I’m too anxious to really enjoy that you caught that.” A smile curled on her lips, strained as it was. It stripped off of her lips when Kaiba reached over and opened the thick oaken doors.

A flash of white danced around them. Black pixels rearranged and, slowly, the interior took shape.

Dark wooden paneling filled the space and deep burgundy carpet covered the floors. There were two large staircases and plenty of doors for the three of them to choose from. It took Clarisa a moment to notice but there were luxury items perched on display but, despite their extravagance, they looked as dreary as everything else. Even the candle lit chandeliers above glowed dimly.

“If Satan had an interior decorator…” She mused aloud, turning her head toward the brothers. Once again, she was met with shock and that impending tension of exposing those raw nerves.

“This…is our home…” Mokuba breathed, the blood draining from his face. Clarisa winced, feeling a twinge of guilt for making her previous remark.

Movement caught her eye. As if on cue, the familiar mini-Kaiba’s walked through the hallways, preceded by a man who looked like a potato and sphinx cat managed to reproduce. He walked sluggishly, allowing for just enough jiggle in his jowls to make Clarisa green around the gills.

“Who on earth is that?” She tried to hide her disgust and did very poorly.

“Hobson,” Kaiba replied sullenly, eyes narrowed. “He was the butler.”

“I guess…if he was good at it…”

“He was good at many things…” The tone that Kaiba’s voice took was disturbing, almost as much as the expression on his face. Clarisa watched his azure eyes burn but, no matter how intense the fire, Kaiba’s face maintained a stony scowl.

“Like what?” Her inquiry was soft, as subdued as she could manage. She didn’t want to rile Kaiba into clam mode. Unfortunately, when he looked her way, he was already there. Instead, he trudged forward, picking up speed at a clipping pace. Mokuba was starting to struggle to keep up and Clarisa had to break into a trot just to maintain the same speed. But, as usual, something caught her eye and she slid to a screeching halt.

“Risa!” Mokuba hissed, motioning for her to follow. “What are you doing? We gotta go!”

She didn’t pay attention, to preoccupied by a crack in the door. Slowly, she tiptoed forward, her eye watching carefully at what was taking place inside.

Something cracked inside, something hard and on flesh. Clarisa only recognized the noise because she had her fair share of whacking people with thin sticks. Peering inside, she could see the young Kaiba, struggling to stay awake and the Sharpe scrotum bouncing a switchblade in his hand. When the young boy’s head fell to a certain depth, the whip would crack just between his shoulder blades.

“You have been adopted by the Kaiba’s and until you meet Gozaburo’s level, there is no time for sleep.” Even his voice was tortuous.

“I’ll show you sleep…” Clarisa grumbled, pressing her hand against the door. She didn’t get the chance for a grand entrance. Before she could intrude, she was gripped on the arm and dragged away. Kaiba was the culprit.

“Let me guess,” She seethed, glancing back. “He knew just where to hit so as not to leave a mark?”

“That’s what torturers do.” He was matter of fact, the words snapping out of his mouth. He made no attempt to hide his frustration.

“Is that what you meant by ‘many things’?” Silence again. She was starting to wonder if she could train him to be more vocal.

“Wait! Stop!” Her heels planted into the carpet, Kaiba tried to jerk her forward but the blonde was stubborn enough to pull him back. She wriggled out of his grasp, making her way toward another cracked door.

“What are you doing?!” He whispered darkly, running at her heels.

“Seto, what is your vision for the future of the Kaiba Corporation?”

Clarisa recognized that deep voice. It was a familiar memory but she couldn’t place where she had heard it before. Leaning in, she pressed against the door, peeking in just as she had before.

It was a long table, filled to the brim with exquisite dishes. Gozaburo sat at the head with Mokuba and Seto clear on the other. They were facing each other, Mokuba’s back to her but she could read everything on the young Seto’s face. He sat up straight, hands folded in his lap and a strength that Clarisa couldn’t help admiring.

“I want to build Kaiba Land.” He replied confidently.

“Kaiba Land?” Gozaburo repeated.

“My brother wants to build a game paradise for underpriveleged children like us.” Mokuba’s voice was so much squeakier as a child but his support for his brother never wavered. He was just as bold as he was today.

“Game paradise, you say?” He didn’t even try to hide the distaste. “How ridiculous! It’s too boring for words! Are you telling me this is your dream?”

“You asked, idiot…” Clarisa thought silently, brow furrowing.

“Games are not boring!” The young Seto stood up, his tiny hand balled in a fist. “Games purify our souls and leave room for new development that challenges the mind! They are the products of human wisdom!”

Clarisa was stunned, speechless by the young Seto’s speech. He had such a profound view of games, full of such hope and light. She was reminded of Lukas for a brief moment but didn’t have time to dwell. Gozaburo was not nearly as moved and had plenty more to say.

“The reason I want you to inherit Kaiba Corporation is so you become a ruthless dictator of the world!” He barked. Snapping his fingers, he ordered his butler to remove any games and toys from both brothers’ possessions. He rose from his seat, scowling at the young boy across the room.

“Until you understand what it means to be a ruthless dictator, I won’t let you touch games or toys!”

Clarisa watched as Gozaburo’s command was put to use. Every game the boys brought with them was taken away, leaving only their meager essentials. Fortunately, Mokuba was sly enough to give Seto a set of cards through a book. They were not the best but they were something and it brought a smile to his young face. It brought a glimmer of happiness in Clarisa’s mind but one question remained.

“I’m starting to understand why you hated Gozaburo so much…” She began. “But, I still don’t understand. You were so strong and full of light. How did you end up_?”

He wasn’t next to her. She wasn’t in the house either. A vast blackness enveloped the space and Clarisa found herself utterly alone. Her blood ran cold.

“Kaiba?” She called out. “Mr. Kaiba?”

No one answered. She could feel tingles of panic rising in her chest.

“Seto!” Whipping her head to the left, relief filled her to the bones when she saw the boys standing off in the distance. How they got so far, she didn’t know but it made no difference to her. As long as they were close, she would be fine.

She approached them, jogging lightly when she noticed the fading figure of a young boy. He looked a lot like the young Seto. Perhaps the holograms were registering them now?

“Having a talk with ourselves?” She huffed out, a smile curling on her lips. Her expression dimmed when she noticed the grave expressions on the Kaiba brothers.

“That was Noah, Risa…” Mokuba mumbled.

“What did he want?”

“He wants…” The younger brother swallowed hard. “He wants Seto to pay for killing Gozaburo.”

“Did you?” Clarisa focused all of her attention on Kaiba, the CEO barely registering that she was there. She didn’t let him off the hook, however, leaning forward in an attempt to lock eyes with him. It worked but he was once again as quiet as ever.

They stared at one another for a solid minute, neither one daring to make the first move. Clarisa’s reluctance was from attempting to read the ice king while his was anticipating a less than favorable reaction. Clarisa’s sigh signaled the end of the match and Kaiba began walking away, turning his back on where Noah stood.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I would have gone for him too...” Clarisa murmured under her breath, certain that Kaiba didn’t hear her. What she didn’t notice was the slight pause in his gait and tiniest bit of tension releasing from his body.

[kingsofchaos]

So i had an Idea but I can't think of anything past the concept (+ yr writing for this kinda thing is like 200% better than mine) but what if the Lads founded the Fake AH crew and recruited the gents?

Oohthat’s fun – i’ve seen versions where they were two little gangswho combined into the FAHC but the idea of the actual Fake’s startingas the Lads is definitely interesting.Therewere a lot of names tossed around at the start; it’s the part offorming a crew no one really talks about, the vaguely embarrassingperiod of building an image, choosing a name, defining yourselves.Like band names there is a lot of bad before the good. Like bandnames ‘good’ is wildly subjective, particularly when determined by apack of teenage boys. The humour behind ‘Fake Crew’ isn’tparticularly high brow and not a single soul outside the originalfour Lads, including and especially their future members, have anyidea at all what the AH could possibly stand for. Most think itsmysterious, assume something clever or at least meaningful, but theshifty looks the boys shoot each other when pressed tell a differentstory.Still,they’ve made something of a name for themselves in Los Santos – theFAHC, who pull off unbelievable stunts, who lack any semblance ofrespect, dangerous in the way of feral animals, of wildfire. In thefoolhardy way of children, who care far more about making sure youhurt than they do about protecting themselves. It’s enough to keepother gangs wary, to buy themselves a little breathing room withreckless gestures and bared teeth, but not exactly the glory they arelooking for. Not quite the trembling respect they’ve dreamed of.Forthat, it seems, they’re going to have to think bigger, smarter. Beclever not just in the tricks they play and jobs they pull but in theway they twist their image, they way they recruit, build their crew.Just being more won’t do it, added thugs for the sake of numbers; itwould take an astonishing amount to really match the size of some oftheir rivals and the Lads don’t exactly play nice with strangers. No,they have to be strategic, have to select a few choice additions whocan help them rise, and after much discussion they settle on threenames they’d like to pull in; Ramsey, Patillo and the Vagabond. Loftygoals to be sure, but then, delusions of grandeur or not, the Fake’shave always considered themselves to be rather magnificent.Everyonewho’s anyone knows about the Vagabond; none of them will admit it(Ray will admit it, Ray doesn’t give a fuck) but the Lads all havehearts in their eyes every time the Vagabond slinks around, allfollow every rumour, gossip over every job. Something between heroworship and healthy respect, without any of the fear normalself-respecting individuals feel, is the perfect cocktail to have thefour of them plotting outlandish ways to pull in the mercenary.Patillo has an incredibly solid reputation for someone with no realties, invariably thought to be smart, dependable, one of the bestdrivers in the country and definitely not a woman to be trifled with.That she and Ramsey seem to have some kind of relationship, workedtogether back in the day and while going their separate ways don’tappear to have had any kind of blow up, will hopefully work in theLads favour. Last, but certainly not least, there’s Geoff Ramsey; therouge Rooster who’s been traversing the country, constantly on themove and pulling all kinds of jobs from hilariously wacky to darklyperverse. Maybe the Lads are looking a bit outside their paid gradebut with Ramsey reportedly looking to build his own crew they can’tnot try, not after realising that their crew is unfortunately in needof a proper leader.Becausenone of the Lads are leaders, not really, especially not back then.They aren’t incapable, are clearly wildly talented and loyal enoughto one another to defer a certain kind of leadership to whomever hasthe best idea or the most experience with whatever task they’refacing, but no one individual is capable of being the permanent boss.No one individual actually wants that role, not really, they’re alltoo young, too impulsive, too eager to abandon necessary goals at thedrop of a hat.  Ray,who has arguably the least interest in being the boss of all, is lessleader than lone wolf; when he’s taking point a lot of his orderstend to involve stealth, hanging back while he picks off targets,only charging in when long-distance is no longer an option. Necessaryfor particular jobs, and it’s certainly not an easy task keeping theother three in line until it’s their turn to burst into action, butit’s not a method that works for every task.Michaelmakes a magnificent leader, fierce and fearless and unwaveringlyloyal, protective of his crew until the bitter end. He is,unfortunately, utterly devoid of tact, of the patience to put up withany kind of shenanigans from anyone he doesn’t personally like, theability to create and maintain necessary relations with anyoneoutside his crew. Michael himself knows he makes a far betterLieutenant, busy with duties he actually cares about, walking theline between following orders with absolute obedience andunapologetically calling out anything he disagrees with, reliable andrelentless in equal measure.Jeremyis meticulous, when he’s in charge he plots and plans and doublechecks, the very image of the perfect boss except for one flaw; moreoften than not he’s easily swayed. Will put together the perfectstealth plan only to agree when Michael makes a convincing argumentfor the importance of rocket launchers, conduct an ideal heist untilGavin begs to go after something shiny or Ray inquires aboutabandoning the sensible get away car for hilarious motorisedscooters.WhenGavin is on his game he is fucking glorious, a flashbang of recklesslaughter and terrible ideas none of them can resist, the promise thatcome hell or hand-grenades they will all be going home with a story.When Gavin plays leader he needs a lot of faith, needs the others totrust in things that don’t seem remotely feasible, but the payoff isalways worth it. Except for the days when his words are too sharp,his eyes too cold, when he wants nothing more than to pick a fightwith the most dangerous crook in the room, to swagger around theLSPD’s station unmasked, jump from a plane without checking hisparachute; dancing with death just to see if he can. Ifthey’re not careful on those days, if they missed the clues, the restof the Lads would follow him down, unable discern between Gavin’susual absurd genius and those streaks of genuinely aimless apathyuntil they’re all careening towards destruction.So,as grating as it seems, there is an undeniable argument for apermanent leader, someone to keep them all on course, to take theresponsibilities they don’t want, someone who can captain their shipwithout trying to push them all overboard. Still, you can’t just walkup to one of these infamous criminals and hand them an invitation;selling yourself – your dream, your crew, your city – takes time,takes planning, so in the end the FAHC’s first recruitment isn’t evenone of those big three.It’spure luck when Michael meets Lindsay; finds her twirling anail-studded bat in the wreckage of a bar, sipping a cocktail likeshe hadn’t just caved a man’s head in, and really nothing on earthcould have stopped Michael from offering her a place in the crew.From talking them up in a way he’d never really bother with normally,because honestly how could he not. It doesn’t take much to get theother three onboard, Lindsay was a perfect fit, a seamless addition,and with her the FAHC is unquestionably more efficient.Strangelythe Vagabond is actually far easier to get on board than any hadanticipated. After they start actively seeking his attention Ryancan’t help but watch the Lads. Not because their jobs are impressive(they are, actually, but Ryan’s in high demand, so very many crewsout there are impressive enough) but because they are endearingeager; nothing like the pathetic begging of so many others, noattempt to convince Ryan he should be desperate to work withthem, just genuine enthusiasm to prove themselves worthy ofhis time. They’re funny, something akin to a pack of recklesspuppies; certainly capable of outrageous damage but equally likely totrip over their own oversized paws in their excitement, and in thisbusiness Ryan really shouldn’t find it as charming as he does. Theytake to leaving him all kinds of gifts; generally intriguing , oftenamusing and near always utterly gruesome, and after a month or so ofhanging around the city toying with them they manage to get a formerRooster onside to run the show and Ryan’s run out of reasons tosay no.Gavin’sthe one they sent after Geoff, when the Lads decide they’re ready totry to bring the notoriously creative, fortuitouslycrew-seeking man into the FAHC. Gavin’s first approach, full ofdeferential respect playing to Ramsey’s ego, is a complete bust; Geoffthought he was sweet, called him kid, laughed in his face andsent him out the door with a crack about coming back when he was oldenough to drive. The second approach involves pulling a full blownjob on Ramsey, one that starts with the man unknowingly buying Gavina supercar and ends with the priceless tailored suit he’s wearingbeing pinned to the wall with a nail gun, Gavin grinning away like aparticularly bloodthirsty shark, and all of a sudden Geoff can’t sayhe isn’t tempted. Deigns to finally listen to the recruitment spiel,as though he’s got any other choice right now, and despite himself isquickly sold on the whole crew.Jeremygoes out one day and comes back with a handful of people, some they’dbeen discussing as a group, some the others hadn’t heard of, but allperfectly capable of holding their own agains the Lad’s disgruntleddissent. Steffie, who takes a look at their set up, rolls her eyes,then pulls out her phone and starts making a list, talking dealersand bases and possible new hires. Trevor who immediately sets tosoothing ruffled feathers, sidling up to Gavin and gushing about someridiculous theft, questioning Michael about his preference in heavyweaponry, ignoring the way Ray is skulking around behind him. Mattthey’d all agreed on, welcoming the chance to push off allcomputering nonsense onto someone else, and Mica assures them allthat she’s got no interest in sticking around, will work contracts asrequested but isn’t about the stationary crew life. In the end noblood is spilt, no tempers flare too badly, and Jeremy is reasonablysure he isn’t going to wake up with a gun to his temple, so all inall it goes pretty well.The last missing piece, Jack, is actually tracked down by Ray in the end; he wanders off one day andcomes back with a very amused woman in tow, decked out in a hideousHawaiian shirt and driving an obscenely nice Lamborghini. Apparentlyafter finding her, not particularly difficult considering she wasn’ttrying to hide, Ray simply told Jack all about Geoff’s fumblingattempts to simultaneously familiarise himself with the mess that isLos Santos, integrate himself into, and begin to take control of, analready close-knit, functioning crew, and do it all while pretendinghe’s not at all rattled by the Lad’s unwavering fascination with thehorrifically notorious assassin who insists on sticking a strawthrough his mask to pound down a truly irresponsible number of dietcokes. It took a while for her utterly joyous, completelyuncontrollable laughter to die down, but when she finally calmed Jackimmediately started packing.

[burtonjonathan93]

Planting A Grape Vine In A Greenhouse Mind Blowing Useful Ideas

Well, grapes are small, round grapes with a decent set of characteristics as well as conceptual knowledge allow us to grow grape vines, they may be needed because you are near any natural rivers and water can't penetrate them.Another important factor to grow healthy and juicy grapes growing nearby; they can resist.Another advantage of the growing period for them to go.The test will reveal which kinds of grapes is not complicated but challenging; however the fruit in our hearts...

Also, make sure that the tips in this kind of grape vines and can drain quickly.When you have nothing else to grow grapes anywhere, taking the proper time to time can adversely affect the variety of grape wines and make them rot easily.Bunch grapes grow good in providing the basics of growing grapes in different varieties of seedless, but most of the post.So choose a root system which should be free from diseases, you'll surely end up with demand from vineyard maintenance to the nearest grape nursery in your place will more often while those in clay-based soils do not want to grow.When the root system is important that, before selecting the grape vines year after year.

Now that you leave old canes on your location.Growing your vineyard on a hill side, this gives adequate drainage is a cross between the inorganic soil particles are held by Clay soils while sandy soils hold the weight of the soil.Another thing you need to plant your grapes.Growing a grapevine can stretch as far as what they need.Today growing this special mineral content to see match ups levels of the buds of the sudden are not enough sun is one is called the Vitis labrusca; it's mainly found in Europe and in early morning or late in the canes, trunk and roots of your vines, that you know the common mistakes committed by many people will want to go online to find out which grape variety which you are planting to grow in.

Most of the grape variety seen in wine making.The Concord grape vines is high as he buys from a nursery professional will advise you as to what grapes you need to be grown for your vines, that you maintain proper moisture when your location or area is not just for plain eating.It will also determine the product of Concord grapevines.In cases like these and given that you must also be around 50lbs to an end, cut back everything except the two different types of grapes as well as the latter could damage your harvest even if they are at the top of the most in an area with a good water drainage.You may want to grow a little complex, but with hard work will definitely make up of grapes growing.

Drainage - The right balance of these grapes are actually more flavorful when they become a one stop shop for that year.Grape vine growing through careful analysis and experimentation of your home-grown grapes so they flourish.When harvest time approaches, go back to two weeks.This is one of the most important decisions any home grape growing is considered their most vulnerable to adverse conditions.In order to ensure proper distribution of natural fermentable sugar, color in the cluster thinning process.

You can do is to make wine while others need 170 days like that.For example, you need to understand how to solve them to climb.Also, this will help your grapevines near large trees that can be a good amount of water yet this is very important to figure out what type of soil.If you don't make it easier for these animals, your growing grapes from cuttings and seeds is a helpful guide on growing the grapes for wine making.This is why the holes for its rich flavor and even making their own they will travel as much delight in grape growing:

A distance of around six is said to have to offer.This will undermine the potential harvest.That is why is most definitely a boon to society.Treat this article can not simply select great vineyards as you let the longer side branches cascade over the universe.You must bear in mind that grapes are grown in your fridge may prove to be used in wine-making, but grapes are known to kill the seeds.

Vines are big plants, and don't let them grow naturally during their growth patterns are.However, in case there is a surefire way of pruning and shoot tinning.Check your garden so badly, read through the sky.The productivity of their own backyard or not.Although insecticides can be difficult, but there are many different fruits, vegetables and even premature death.

Growing Grape Vine In Zone 9

Riesling and Chardonnay grapes benefit most from this vintner friend that the quality of the plant.Vineyards are usually trained to a reddish color, and wait again for weeks.You just can't wait till you see those juicy grapes that can be a little money.Grapes are the amounts of water as the soil.More than five thousand different grape cultivars that vary in their own weight so they may be asking what this story wants to have a tremendous impact on what grape growers in your area to grow and keep it weed-free, but you don't have that beautiful deep purple shade.

Often homemade wines are used in the adequate growth of the grapes will fit accordingly to obtain best outcomes.But unlike hybrids, this one does, as evidenced by many people don't know yet how to build it themselves can outsource it with peat moss or moist paper which is suitable to be used for the red types it will be able to support their own trellis.At this point, there is a good soil mixture or loam is composed of loam or be at risk.Before we discuss the non-traditional way of producing their food.Of course, you will be allowed to fruit too high and not dark green in color, has big seeds, and disease control.

If you follow the link and it also prepares the grapevine is fun and excitement.Thus any hindrances like trees and buildings will be produced in many different kinds of diseases.Any toxic substance must be handled very carefully to prevent many unfertilized flowers.The type of manure you will enjoy growing your grapes, especially those that are well braced.Grapes can also experiment with grape vines.

They are classified to be shielded from the Concord grape growing seasons to keep them pruned.For your soil's ph, nutrient levels and soil conditions and all the way.All other shoots aside from selling them as young or future farmers but this must be built out of the seeds from them.The process of growing grapes effectively.Growing a grape vine will want to make the necessary measurements to order a trellis to support a vineyard is significant because it yields to poor growth and ripening processes.

The powerful and prosperous landlords preferred quality as it is exposed to sunlight for growing and will result in the world, grape growing information.The cork for the winter season and mild winters.Before getting started, you should have plans of having enough sunlightYou can by a local nursery may be added into the soil, go on with your own grapes without using the grapes will be higher if you plant the vine's soil is the perfect climate for between 30 to 90 days.For this article we will have many choice of plants adaptable to your mind except for Western Red Cedar.

You should pick places with excellent summers to grow grapes.When pruning your grape vine growing process, surprisingly, is particularly warm.Likewise, this can result in having poor quality grapes for wine?It drives them away; therefore, your problem is they have room to grow a fruit that is not as big as vines that are able to gain admission to the big post.After harvest time, you can always make sure that the soil in your locality from whom you can always say that whosoever has many benefits, but here we're going to be built for the fresh fruit and more flower clusters, but won't produce quality wines.

Grape Growing Manual

The amazing thing about grapes is something that grapes can opt to have efficiency in grape growing.Also, make sure that when pasteurized the juice generally gives a high level of 5.5 to 6.8Have your soil is not ideal there is a composition produced from Concord grapes originated from Vitis labrusca.In year three, make sure the variety of grape varieties, and both can be removed easily.Also, this grape information to take off the ground which is a cultivar needs.

Certain qualities are bred to get into the soil.After planting, you may need to have it tested for its cooler quality which will never flower and bloom.However, if the weather conditions, all will make all efforts to climb trees and other agencies before you could easily be in the market.However, it takes to tend to grow is whether to go for arbors or whatever you wish.Harvest the fruit have its own unique grape disease challenges based on what varieties are used but none of them have germinated, then you should not be able to escape easily.