#attila replies to things

[attilarrific]

boop :3

boop!!!

sorry for being completely not here during the boopening! I was out of town (in seattle, for an anime convention---if you were at sakuracon, anyone, hi!) and barely on tumblr until I got back home this past wednesday night.

a belated boop for all my followers!

[astronicht]

Hi I hope this isn't presumptuous, but so, that post you made about Tolkien making the lads leave their weapons outside the hall and CS Lewis thinking the hall was gonna get burned down by a lady who also wanted to kill herself... what's the historical precedent for that? Is there a trope in medieval lit where people like... do that? I ask because uh. I am obsessed with Children of Hurin and there's a scene where that like, happens. And I'm obsessed with that scene, and would love to know if there's like, cultural/mythic context that would enrich my knowledge!

OH BOY, sorry I'm getting to this late, it's been uhhh a summer, but one, this is a very good question!! And two, yes there is absolutely precedent, particularly in early medieval literature, and high medieval literature set in the early medieval (circa 500-1100 AD) past. I'll let someone else debate how often people actually historically locked their enemies into a hall and burned them, but especially in Old Norse literature (and if Fellowship felt like it leaned a little more on Old English literature, Two Towers, where Eowyn appears, felt a little more Old Norse) this is common. Off the top of my head, you've got many Icelandic family feuds ending in burning the whole family in their hall, like Njal's Saga (Old Norse), Attila the Hun dramas (yeah he's a big guy in the burning halls circuit, but actually not in the way you might expect) like his cameos in Volsung Saga (Old Norse) and Nibelungelied (Middle High German), and my vague recollection of a few Irish and Welsh versions that no search engine is giving up for me right now.

This, predictably, got long and slightly off topic.

Disclaimer: As usual, I should say I come from an Old English-centric background, and Old English literature is actually notable among all its neighbors for not burning down too many halls. Second disclaimer, all links are not proper citations, they just go to wiki.

Hall-burning in literature is, to my understanding, part of the concerns of a few early medieval cultures in which revenge is not only expected but in many cases legally reinforced and codified, and one in which conflicts could spiral to engulf -- figuratively, or literally and in flames -- entire families. Many medieval Icelandic sagas are focused on this exact type of destruction of whole families or friendship/community units. Most relevant of these to Eowyn, Two Towers, and the vibes of Edoras (since alas I am only partway into RotK and can't speak to Children of Hurin yet!) is Volsung Saga, which is set on the Continent, not Iceland, and actually has to do with Attila the Hun. As mentioned before, an incredible amount of stuff turns out to have to do with Attila. We will come back to him!

So, on the particular post you're talking about, a few people iirc have replied pointing out that the hall in TT is clearly supposed to be based on a hall from Old English literature, namely the hall in Beowulf, which famously did not actually get burnt down. And that's all true! I was not posting with much nuance; I was mostly having a joke at the expense of CS Lewis. However, I was also referencing a very very common trope in Old Norse/early medieval stories, and I personally think JRR was as well (AND I think Beowulf was also very consciously referencing the exact same motif anyway) (no one has to agree with me, a tumblr blog, on any of these points).

The thing about the hall when our heroes approach is that the scariest damn thing in that hall is Eowyn. Certainly not every hall-burning story requires a woman with no other recourse to set the fire (in fact, the "warrior band approaches unknown hall which might have a grudge against them" is a trope that can get you killed in a pretty homosocial environment, as I guess Aragorn at least was aware, being a big reader). Still, the presence of a woman who is swiftly running out of options does fit what I'd consider one of the or perhaps The best known version of the early medieval burning hall trope: Gudrun, who shows up in at least a dozen different texts in both the Scandinavian and the German language traditions, including Volsung Saga, a text which itself often gets paraded around as the basis of lotr (which I'm sure it is, in that JRR appears to have simply and very fairly based lotr on every piece of early medieval vernacular literature I can think of).

In a portion of Gudrun's story (which of course changes a bit in each retelling), after her first marriage she is unhappily married to Atli, who is none other than our main man Attila the Hun. After Attila kills her brothers for reasons (in one version, her father), seeing no other way to take the necessary revenge and no other way out, she kills the two sons she had by him, serves them to Attila for dinner, has Attila killed, and then sets fire to the hall with everyone in it. After this, she attempts to drown herself.

The self-destruction of this act is a really important beat, and has only gotten more-so as a comparison to Eowyn the further I've read into RotK (currently, I'm at the houses of healing after merry and eowyn take on the witch king). It's a lot clearer in the book than the films, for me, that Eowyn going off to battle was not so a straightforward empowering and/or freeing move, despite allowing her some agency, but more the one path she saw as available to her with which to die with honor (which was pretty much exactly what Gudrun was facing as well). Like Gudrun, whose first husband was a great hero but has died, Eowyn's romantic choice is a hero who is presumed dead (sorry Aragorn they did Not believe in your ghost skills). In fact, in some versions Gudrun does put on armor and fight with her brothers before they're killed. She kills Attila with her own hand, with the help of another man who needs to avenge a blood feud against Attila.

So while Eowyn didn't get forced into marriage to Attila Wormtongue (with apologies to both historical Attila and that one historical skald also called Wormtongue who was reportedly hot) and burn the whole place down, she's still trapped, and like Gudrun chooses destruction alongside her household.

Reading her arc feels so much like watching Tolkien write a fix-it for Gudrun. What if she got this one little chance, and this one other little chance, and this one more -- tiny little shifts in the narrative that allow her to get out, and not through fire, and not through death.

Anyway, this got away from me. I hope it added some context to the Children of Hurin arson case! Thanks for the ask

[infernal-general]

Little filler information/trivia post which didn't make it into the verse post because it was already long.

🇭🇺 Rozália is half Italian in this verse (instead of quarter like in the main one)

🩸 She is fluent in Italian, Turkish, Arabic (can read & write as well) and can understand, read in Latin. She secretly enjoys reading Arabic poetry.

🇭🇺 She is not religious and doesn't see this war, occupation as Christianity against Islam. Both her mother and father were Christians, look where their belief had gotten them. God won't do shit, she's wielding the blade, she's studying warfare to save people. She won't interfere with anyone's faith, not say anything unprompted, but if asked she will tell her opinion.

🩸 After acquiring language skills along with physical ones, she only saw Attila as hindrance. His decisions were either rash or too drawn out, he kept paying the lazy, unfaithful mercenaries, sat so high on his horse with nothing to show for such arrogance.

🇭🇺 Her father would've survived the infection as his fever was receding. Rozália was by his side, duty of the daughter masking her hope of finally being free from him. A small, quiet argument broke out after the mention of Lorella, how Attila should've died instead of her. He replied if God didn't want her to live, it wasn't his place to overrule. Rozália argued it would've been his duty to protect his wife and mother of his child. Attila said maybe she would be still alive if she had a son instead. Rozália snapped and choked her father to death in a silent, bottled up, bestial rage. No one questioned how the Count died, everyone assumed the infection had taken him. She never corrected them.

🩸 With her father out of the way, she easily could push through her reforms, her daring but well supported and rewarding tactics; earning both the soldiers' and the people's respect. After Főnixvár had been built, stronger than ever, she was presented with a pendant of iron: a sharp gothic cross with a dragon wrapped around it. Within the jewelry sat the last four rubies she paid lower ranked nobility for workers. Deeply touched by the gesture and the symbolism, it is a permanent addition of her everyday wardrobe.

🇭🇺 The Tisza river acts like a natural border, making the southern walls impossible to attack with artillery. The current is strong, prone to floods due to the curve, making across it even on foot is dangerous. It also means a permanent clean water supply, poison would be carried away by the current. The usually flooded areas create natural swampy ground, larger troop movements, machines are slow in the sticky mud and usually get stuck. Because of the closeness of the river, digging trenches under the reinforced stone base is fruitless, only getting a splash of muddy groundwater.

🩸 During the rebuilding stage was when Rozália found Vihar and bonded with the horse. The two are inseparable and she cannot imagine riding an another horse. She is a skilled esquetarian, able to ride without saddle, has a frighteningly accurate aim with a bow from horseback.

🇭🇺 Her and Selim Pasha sometimes run into each other during their own border patrol. The encounters are strangely civil, a brief stop in time itself. They had come to terms one of them won't make it alive and it was the Pasha who made it clear first, if she falls, she will be buried with utmost respect. Rozália swore the same to him. Their small talk sometimes in Turkish, sometimes in Hungarian, are about trivial, everyday things with an occasional compliment of the other's skill.

🩸 When she was a child, rebellious and a little hotheaded she sometimes snuck away into the forest. She often met a Turkish boy, Demir a few years older and she came home bloodied from the fights. None of them truly comprehended the reality of the situation. Despite now commander of a janissary unit, the tables have turned: the wild Hungarian child from the forest became a warlord.

🇭🇺 This woman has never worn skirts in her life. Sometimes her cape is draped around her shoulders, the outside bright crimson, but inside are the colors of the Hungarian flag itself. Rozália knows she will perish and makes most of her talents to become a legend, a hero to the point where her torture and execution wouldn't break the fighting spirit but strengthen it. She doesn't marry, she doesn't have time for that, all good men are either dead or already taken. She has no interest in a mewling coward of a noble. She is riddled with scars from victorious fights, always in the frontline of defense and offense.

🩸 Approximately there are 2500-3000 professional soldiers protecting the fortress and the area with an additional 4000 army of civilians. Many of them had gotten training, some even directly from her. Most women can swordfight better than cook. Despite being both Countess and Fort Captain, she spends lots of quality time with simple peasants others wouldn't bat an eye at. She accepts refugees, protecting, shielding everyone she's capable of.

🇭🇺 She's this 🤏 close to being charged with treason after a sending a...quite scandalous letter to King John Sigismund Zápolya who refused to send ammunition and resources to the forts as he gained the throne with Ottoman help. The lightest part of the letter is telling him how much shame he'd brought to the nation.

[liniestlink]

First Story

I posted this on my cohost first and will remain posting every writing I do there first and then sending it over to here at a later date.

A story I wrote in early high school fresh after reading A Clockwork Orange and you can tell, I went through, edited, and changed a few things but this is still the same story I wrote so many years ago. It is not good, you have been warned!

Date wrote: December 17, 2014

So… this is the story of a little incident that occurred about over two months ago, I wasn’t able to reflect on the incident until now due to personal connections so- please bear with me as I relive this event. It all started on January 4th, 1994, it was a rather chilly night as me and a friend were strolling down an alley as per-usual; we would stumble around and kick things just being carefree juveniles. Now none of this is to care for but I’m foretelling what has happened leading up to that day. I came over to my friend for no reason at all and struck him--- He looked at me dazed and confused and in a calm tone spoke to me in disfigured words. I wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying because to be truthful I didn’t give a damn. So, after he put himself together, he got up and left; I smirked at the sight of his back to me, this was a sign that I had taken down yet another coward.

I sat alone in the cold as I looked back at the events that had just occurred, I snickered and checked my watch it read “twelve twenty-five” I slowly got up and finally decided maybe I should be on my way. I arrived at the shack of a home that I partake of slumbering in around one in the morning of course no-one was home. I went to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of some mischievous liquids and went on my way to bed. I awoke late into the night to a loud thump; I spoke to myself “Blasted idiots can’t they be quite when they come home” I go downstairs and to my surprise it wasn’t my parents, It was the friend of mine who I had recently ruffed up, in his hands smashing my stuff was a bat and at that moment I knew it was going to be a long night. I slowly walked in front of him “what are you doing in my house you dirty skunk” he replied in such hatred “I’m going to teach you not to mess with the great Attila he then attempted to strike me down but to his sad effort I laughed and spit on it. “The great Attila, ha what a sad name but it fits a fool like yourself so come make a mockery of yourself, I’m begging you.” This enraged the young fool as he charged this time... But I was mistaken for where he was swinging and found the bat on my knee, the pain was tremendous, and I fell onto my other knee.

He was quick to strike again and hit me upon my head and I dropped like a bag of bricks as he continued to beat me with the bat to a bloody mess. This was my last moment as he turned around so I reacted I slowly rose up and grabbed him by the shirt… the air then filled with a mixture of red to be exact, it didn’t take long for the night to go by but when I awoke the kid was gone leaving his filthy blood on my stuff; I must of got him real good I smirked at the thought of the bleeding limping fool. I slowly pushed myself up and grabbed my side in pain, I removed my hand and noticed it was drenched in red I winced and then slowly walked towards the door and swung it open; I stumbled around outside for about ten minutes before I collapsed in some random yard as I turned the snow around me red… it wasn’t long before the day went dark. I awoke inside a house freshly bandaged confused, dazed and not wanting the cops to find me I get up and head out of the stranger's door back out into the day, I glance at my wound bandaged now and thought a grateful thought but brushed it off in a matter of seconds. I didn’t need the help if I would have died, I would have died it didn’t mean any difference to me I rather be dead then live in such a dreadful world as I live in now but if I were to die it would be by someone else’s hand as death by my own would be a cowardly move. Since I was slashed last, days have gone by, I’ve done nothing. Its January 9th here and the new year is fresh and already filled with misery, but I believe it’s going to get worse from here on out and boy was I right but at first it wasn’t. As usual I walked to the old gas stand to pick up some milk and a little pint of the ol’ mischievous liquid. Now this isn’t what was eye catching about today as it was usual for me but what did catch my eye was a rather familiar face at first, I didn’t recognize the young fool and I imagine he either didn’t see me or was scared but it was the boy who gave me this dreadful gash. I could have attacked him right in the store but I rather not have witnesses so I will wait to find him and then the snow will be lined in his filthy blood just like it was with mine only a few days ago. So, I’ve been thinking what I will do and use to carry out my lovely act… oh boy the thoughts and ideas fill me with joy and delight.

A couple of days have passed since the run-in but nonetheless here we are surprisingly not rotting in jail, yet. It was a rather cool day especially for it being January, the wind was light, and the snowflakes drifted ever so kindly. It seems like a perfect day, but I haven’t had my way with that fool. I walked over to where I wanted to go. It was at the gas pump store a few days ago, I went in and bought some potato crisps and another bottle of that fine mischievous liquids this one had a fantastic smell like grapes to be exact. I walked outside and, on my way home in the alley I noticed someone just sitting, I wore a devious smirk and walked into the alley; maybe this wasn’t who I was after but either way the fun was coming. So, I walked up to this fool and roughed him up a bit, stealing the little cash he had and this lovely watch he had, now the fun was cut short when he yelped loudly, so I took off not taking a chance of ending up in the local jail. I was very cheerful after that today was a very cheerful day, I danced and sang on my way home with dried red on my knuckles and the biggest smirk on my face oh boy oh boy was today turning out to be one swell of a day. I arrived home around five and settled in on the sofa looking up gazing at the ceiling, that was the last thing I saw before I dazed off into slumber for the next few hours.

So, I awoke after a long night on the eve of January 15th. It was a Sunday and the Friday before stirred up some fools speaking of bad mojo as if a silly thing like mojo even existed such naive fools. I ran into that agitating idiot Attila and oh boy was today a great day to stop his chest from flowing. As you might have guessed, yes, he’s gone, and I could be in a few days if the cops catch on, but they’re fools, we will see how this all pans out. It was a Sunday and I was by the stream, this is where it happen I ran up on the poor Attila while fishing he noticed me right away, He looked at me and smirked “come back for more eh’” I walked slowly to him “You won’t be walking nor breathing any longer” so he got up and pulled out a pocket knife, I knew that if I didn’t end him here I wasn’t going to come back from this one. We walked in a circle staring each other down, it didn’t take long for him to lunge and get me good, really good to be exact his blade was now completely red and I was in a painful situation but he must have thought he won which was a huge mistake as I lunged onto him grabbing his arm and pushing his head underwater. I then held it there for minutes after he stopped moving, after I pulled him out, I smirked and began kicking him, for the final touch, I took his knife and jammed it into his chest.

January 19th, it took them long enough, but they found the trash that I left behind and now it was all over the news, but being the great person I am, I seemed to have left no evidence this time, so I watch and laugh at their pitiful efforts. The coppers did come to talk today but oddly it wasn’t for questioning of the murder but oddly enough it was if I was doing fine, now this is rather odd seeing on how there was a murder recently that I was involved in, maybe they suspect me. My suspicions were greatened through the past few days as they continuously stopped by to check on me, I knew what I had to do; I had to leave or be sent to jail and have a rather miserable life from here on out. Today is January 20th. I’m going to go out and buy some supplies such as food before I go to Ukaly where a friend awaits me. He promises to help me out seeing as I’m in a bit of trouble. It could be a day or two before I report again if I ever do it again.

So… I believe it’s January 23rd and my suspicions were correct; I should have just gone to jail it would have been a lot better than what happened. So, let’s recount on the events that took place the last three days, well on January 21st I arrived in Ukaly and stayed at my friend’s house. Now when things turned sour, he was the least person I would suspect to push me to the ground but he did, maybe I deserve all that’s happened this month for the things I’ve done… too late to turn back now what happened, happened. I stayed at my friend’s house that night and that wasn’t it as on January 22nd I was forced out and beaten by him… I don’t know why this happened from what I remember I didn’t do him wrong… well not to him personally. I may have did something unspeakable to a family member of his, his sister to be exact, that’s it then the world is turning on me for the bad I have done maybe it’s trying to force me to change but that’s not how this works; try to change me it won’t work not even with karma I’ll just strike back harder.

It's January 24th. I left Ukaly after I paid my old pal a visit. You should have seen his face as I stood there beating it in with a pipe; his screams filled me with such delight. I left him lying there barely breathing. Now I’m not the bad guy here, he was most indefinitely asking for the beating, you never provoke your superior. Now that there was nowhere left to go, I decided to go back to where it all started, I was going back home where I should have stayed all this time. I took off from Ukaly the day I beat that fool to death and arrived home on January 25th back to the pitiful town of Besharan’ my hometown, I waited outside the city limits till night fell just in case the police were still after me (if they even were in the first place.)

The police were waiting for me in my house to apprehend me and take me off to the brig. Look at this, the month is nearly over, and I have to spend it in jail, there is no sign of life in this cell just cold and the void of darkness. I wonder how long I’ll be here; I can’t take it in this dreadful place. Jail isn’t the place for me to be, I can’t do what I wish to do anymore, hopefully I get off with a fine of some sort seeing as this all happened in self-defense technically.

Hello, my good people, sorry to bring you such fright, I know I was a little late. I had the most wonderful time and now five vessels lay ready to be shipped off. I won’t go into too great of detail seeing as I got a little carried away, the initial plan was for only one or maybe two and come describe them full on but seeing as there’s a few more I’ll just give a brief explanation of each. So first off let’s start with the young lass I got to know, I may have enjoyed her to much especially after the eyes rolled out; sadly, for her family they won’t recognize her anymore poor little girl you were fun while it lasted. Now for the next unlucky visitor his name was Ronald he actually was off work at the time I meet him, the poor miserable man, something rose in me after I got rid of him, a disgusting feeling in me, what’s wrong?

I’m sorry, it is now January 29th and after these few days of silence, I don’t feel the same anymore, I feel a sickness deep within myself and I don’t know what to do. Is this what guilt feels like? I don’t know how much longer I can allow this feeling to eat at me, maybe some hard medication can help ease this feeling and I can go back to how I used to be. It’s now one thirty in the morning and I’m shaking the images of people I have hurt keep flowing into my mind and my stomach continues to grow uneasily… this feeling is swallowing me alive and there seems to be no escape; even the countless pills don’t help me. How could I have these feelings? It’s not natural I shouldn’t have these regrets they deserved what happened to them! Maybe I just need sleep… maybe it will all go away in time… these images though are eating away at me.

It’s January 30th approximately nine twenty-five, I had a decent sleep, and the images only flooded my dreams once, it turns out that my sleep deprivation was causing these dreaded hallucinations; I am fine once more and due to by health I will have to go out and make these two days’ worth it. Those dammed images came back… I don’t know what’s happening my mind is racing and I’m struggling ever so greatly to cope with it… I don’t know how much longer I can hang on… my regrets and guilt are building up… I believe if I don’t get help that I’m going to fall and collapse… please my people I need the help… please… your superior is begging for your assistance.

January 31st…... January is ending, and I believe I have as well… I can’t hang on any longer. I finally have been consumed by regret… the horrible…dreadful things that I have done. I don’t deserve to belong to this world; ungrateful scum is what I am. Imagine this a person like me thought so high of himself now at his breaking point, this in the end tells you that even ruthless people such as myself have breaking points. Why did it have to come now…? I enjoyed myself the most at this time of the year… whatever be the case, I can’t take it anymore. I haven’t slept for hours upon hours and when I try, I see the horrid faces of victims of my acts. In the end I was right I am going to fall and collapse for people to watch… Goodbye my friends and now out the window I go into the soft ground cover in sheets of snow.

A Detective’s Afterthoughts

After about three to four days the cops found out who the man the leaped from the window was… it was a nineteen-year-old named Boyd Richards, he had a troublesome past and seemed to suffer from delusions. His parents have been dead since he was three, I believe this could have something to do with what he did but, in the end, he was just another killer. Goodbye now Detective Armistead takes his leave- stay safe out there, this case may be closed but I believe it’s far from being over even with Boyd dead.

[ya-so-im-here]

Deathday [Larry x Ahkmenrah]

Writer: Me, I have it published under my Wattpad account TheNinjaOfCake22

Fandom: Night at the Museum

Ship: Larry Daley x Ahkmenrah

Link: https://www.wattpad.com/1122938301-deathday-larry-x-ahkmenrah-one-shot-deathday/page/6

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The sun had set and on queue Larry Daley felt the life return to the exhibits around him, changing from still wax figures to living people he called family.

Jed and Octavius spent little to know time rushing down from their separate exhibits towards the main area along with more of their friends and used the computer, it was something they had loved since Larry showed them how it worked.

Teddy rode off as usual to pick up Sacajawea from her room with Louis and Clark who since the glass had broke had an open exhibit allowing Teddy and Sacajawea to spend every night together.

Attila was seen with Dexter the two were with the rest of the Huns by Rexie. All had seemed right and normal like every night till Larry realized the one person he was always excited to see was missing from the usual night commotion.

Ahkmenrah wasn't there.

As predictable as it may seem, everyone always gathered in the main area and would spread out throughout the night, everyone would get together. Especially Ahkmenrah he was never late.

Fear and a dreading feeling began to form in Larry's stomach as he doubled and tripled check for the pharaoh, but he wasn't there.

A nagging feeling whispered in his head saying something was wrong as he began to make his way up the stairs. 'He's probably talking to someone or taking his time. There is no need to worry' he told himself but he continued on his way to Ahkmenrah's sarcophagus.

"Ahkmenrah?!" Larry called out as he made his way down the hall and towards the doorway to the pharaoh's chamber.

But there was no reply, so he called out again... no reply. He told the panicking feeling to go away he had just seen him last night and all was alright. Perhaps he's somewhere in the museum talking with the others.

'There is no need to worry'

Nonetheless he called out once more as he turned the corner and entered the Egyptian's room. "Ahkmenrah?!"

Larry walked straight to the display where his sarcophagus lay in the center of the back of the room right before the Tablet of Ahkmenrah.

Upon approach Larry looked within and saw the still body of Ahkmenrah, and instantly his heart stopped out of fear.

He reached out his hand and placed it on the pharaoh's shoulder and instantly he opened his eyes meeting Larry's worried gaze.

Larry exhaled softly seeing his friend all right and smiled lightly, but as he examined him closer he realized how still he was. He wasn't moving, didn't even smile when Larry came up and Ahkmenrah always smiled when Larry approached.

     "Hey are you alright?" He asked nervously as he kept his hand on Ahk's shoulder.

Ahkmenrah's jaw clenched and squinted lightly before he attempted a smile that failed to form. Now he definitely had something to worry about, Ahk went to open his mouth ad gasped sharply for air. "Larry" he whispered softly but before he could finish his sentence Larry had padded his shoulder and stood up straight.

"I'll be right back, okay? One moment" and he started out of the room as he heard another attempted whisper "Larry" but he was already in search for Teddy, Teddy would have answers.

Larry went turning corners quickly but not trying to cause any worry, even though he never seemed so scared before. 'Was the tablet failing?' the thought made his stomach drop, how could he live without them? they're his family and to live without Ahk, it just wasn't possible.

Bounding around a corner he noticed the swish of Texas' tail as Teddy rounded another corner, Larry just barely missing him. With a quick sprint the nightguard turned the corner and there was Teddy and Sacajawea riding Texas as they tended to do each night.

"Teddy!" Larry shouted out catching the past president's attention as well as Sacajawea's. "Something's wrong with Ahkmenrah, he's not moving and won't say anything" granted he said his name, but nothing to explain the situation. Teddy's cheerful smile fell as Sacajawea looked down both of them full of knowing.

"It's June 21st" mumbled Teddy in sorrow Wea nodded confirming his statement.

"What does that have to do with anything? What does that mean?" Larry asked looking between the two for answers. Texas turned around so that Teddy and Wea faced the night guard as they explained.

"Well Laurence, while most people marked their calender's of the day of their birth, we here mark our calender's of the day of our death." He paused a moment allowing Larry to comprehend what was being said "Today my boy, is June 21st the day our dear pharaoh died all those years ago, by the hands of none other then his own brother Kahmunrah." Teddy exhaled softly before he continued "On each of our own Deathday's we experience our deaths all over again as though it's the first time. But unlike before when death swept us away from the pain, we experience it all night, until morning when we turn back." finished explaining Teddy, who's mind had traveled to the reminder of his own death day.

Larry stood there in silence comprehending all he had heard, how had he not known about Deathday's surely someone had to have had their deathday while he was there, was he just oblivious to it? "Is there anything that can be done to help?' he asked hoping the answer was yes.

"The pain of death lasts all night nothing can stop it till the day is done, what we usually do is keep each other company on those days, no matter how one died no one should go through it again alone." Sacajawea placed her hand into Teddy's clasping is gently remembering nights she helped him on his Deathday and how he was there for her on her deathday.

Larry nodded "Alright then I'll do that..." he began to walk off before he stopped and turned back to the couple on the horse. "Teddy can you..." but before he could finish the 26th president interrupted him

"Don't worry my boy, all will be taken care of. I'll be seeing you tomorrow night" Teddy tipped his hat as they departed on their way once more and Larry began back to Ahk already feeling awful for being gone this long.

Lying in his sarcophagus Ahkmenrah was going through the pain and experience of being slashed into pieces just as he had 4,000 years ago. It was the worst feeling he had ever felt in his live and death, for a fleeting moment he tried to ignore the pain when he saw Larry's concerned and worried face he attempted to smile but the pain was too much. Then he was gone leaving him alone, just as he had been for fifty-four years.

The memories haunted him every day, the fear that when night falls he would go to rise and leave his tomb but be locked in just like before and no one would let him out, that he would once again be forever trapped, and utterly alone.

He could hear them all, the old night guards talking as they passed the hall never daring to enter his room and free him no matter how hard and long he screamed. He would shake and scream hoping just hoping someone would let him out anyone at all.

Then there was something different the old voices of the night guards were replaced with one young voice, and soon the entire museum was truly alive. He could hear them walking around, doing their own thing, talking to one another.

He was angry with himself when he dared let his hopes rise that perhaps the new night guard would let him out. Nights past and nothing no one freed him, he even heard another say he would never get out.

Like before his hopes were crushed, but he screamed nonetheless he wouldn't give up. Just the slightest chance someone might take pity on him and let him go, was all he held onto.

Then it happened he heard the night guard and he was coming towards him, Ahkmenrah screamed. Screamed as loud as he could he wanted out, please he begged let this be the moment he'd be free.

When he heard the sound of the locks being removed he never felt so excited in all his life. As soon as the last lock was gone he pushed with all his strength forcing the lid of his sarcophagus to fly through the air and hit the wall.

He was free.

And there standing before him, the one who let him out of his afterlife... the new night guard, Larry Daley set him free.

He couldn't well aware explain it, but as soon as he looked upon Larry, something was different. The feeling only grew the longer they were together, on mini adventures or just hanging about in the museum.

Larry Daley was different and Ahkmenrah couldn't help but smile whenever he was near. Now he had wished more then ever he was with him now, just the split second he was and Ahkmenrah wanted to smile even though the pain hurt too much to do so.

His jaw clenched as he felt another sharp pain which over the years he distinguished as a stab wound.

Ahkmenrah closed his eyes out of pain, holding back a cry. As the night went went, it would feel worse it always did. It got to the point he would be choking on his own blood from all the wounds.

"Ahkmenrah?" The pharaoh opened his eyes once more and by his side once again was Larry. His face of concern was still there but so was a face of comfort. As though on queue upon seeing him Ahk had the instinct to smile at him like he always did, even if it hurt too much to actually do so.

Larry placed one had on Ahk's shoulder and the other on his hand, he could feel the cold sweats that covered the pharaoh's body. "It's okay, I'm here for you" the night guard stated.

Ahkmenrah attempted to open his mouth to protest, as night guard Larry had a job to do; but before he could get any words out he was interrupted.

"Don't worry, Teddy told me all about deathday just know that I'm here for you all night " whispered Larry affectionately. His eyes were gentle and while concern was still there, comfort and kindness was the expression he wore on his face so evidently. Ahk closed his eyes for a second gathering his strength before attempting to speak again.

"Larry..." he mumbled meekly "I'm fine. You have...a job..." he gasped sharply feeling the pain of another stab wound pierce through him. He still remembered the day his brother betrayed him, the pain of death seemed less then the pain of betrayal and heart break.

"Teddy has it all under control, tonight I'm here with you. You shouldn't have too experience this alone, I won't allow it" Ahkmenrah gently shook his head to the best of his ability.

"I've done this alone... for fifty-four years." he paused a moment exhaling "I'm used to it... at this point..." he finished gently. He didn't mean it as a martyr, but it was true he'd experienced his deathday alone in his sarcophagus for years.

Larry shook his shoulder gently catching the pharaoh's attention once more "Well, I'm here to end that streak" he responded kindly. Even though it hurt Ahkmenrah smiled, it was much weaker then his usually bright and vibrant smile that Larry loved so much, but he still smiled and Larry loved it nonetheless.

Ahk was at most times unable to speak other then a few words here and there, making conversation light with little responses from Ahkemenrah mostly leaving it up to Larry. The conversations were small topics, but it helped keep Ahk distracted...mostly. The feeling of being stabbed over and over again, the feeling gets worse with each stab, at this point he knew when and where each stab would appear; it was ingrained into his memory.

But this night was different and more special then Larry probably knew, Ahk would find himself forgetting the next wound which left him unexpected of the jolt of pain, but there's something worse and more painful when one is expecting the pain then when it's unexpected.

"I keep telling Erica that I have moved on and that I'm not still clinging to our marriage, but she doesn't believe me" said Larry mildly annoyed "Just this weekend when I went to pick up Nicky, she brought it up all over again, I honestly thought she was done." he shook his head.

Ahk eyed him closely before attempting a mumble "What was the...issue?" he breathed out lightly

"She said 'How do I know you moved on when you haven't dated anyone since the marriage' she just kept saying 'when was last you have an actual relationship with someone other then me' I... I don't know. I'm probably overreacting, so what if I haven't had a relationship since her. She was the once who decided to leave first no wonder she got remarried first." Larry exhaled sharply attempting to release all the negative energy. Then he turned down and looked at Ahkmenrah who was watching him intently and Larry couldn't help but notice his cheeks flush.

"I'm sorry..." he stumbled out "I'm rambling, you don't want to hear this" he went to stand up to calm his nerves, but his face seemed to be determined to remain flushed as the pharaoh made direct eye contact with the night guard, neither daring to break it.

Larry felt the heat from Ahk's hand grab his, it was comforting but it also felt different from the way Larry had been holding his. Though Larry was nervous to admit it, it felt the way that Erica would hold his hand back when they were in "love". But it also didn't feel the same, it felt more personal. Oh what was he doing, Ahkmenrah was a pharaoh, royalty he didn't feel the same way as Larry.

Hell. Larry wasn't sure what it was he was feeling, though he had to admit it would explain a lot about their relationship. Could he... could Larry Daley be in love with Ahkmenrah?

He looked at the pharaoh's gaze that held so tightly and Larry knew... He loved him.

Though weak Ahk held tight the best he could to Larry Daley's hand, listening to his conversation about Erica, well... it kept him attentive. Larry never did mention anyone romantically in all the time they knew each other and Ahkmenrah had to admit he always hoped he was the reason Larry never was with anyone else.

All the moments and time they spent together, hell back to when they first met. Larry was the first person to release him from his sarcophagus, he trusted him and they went on the journey to save his tablet. Maybe he was just overthinking everything, but Ahkmenrah knew he loved Larry Daley, he was worried that it wasn't both ways.

"Sometimes...love is hard to understand" rasped out Ahk still holding to Larry's gaze as well as his hand "Maybe, not all love..." he paused, maybe he shouldn't continue if he did the night guard was bound to understand his intentions. He could pretend to be in pain and escape the atmosphere he created, but as he looked at Larry he didn't think "Maybe, not all love...is conventional" he saw a flicker in Larry's eyes, he didn't know what it meant but it made Ahk's heart bound.

Larry was not sure what he was about to do, but he was going to do something. Not only did he fully realize he in fact did love Ahkmenrah, but that he felt the same about him! Larry's heart felt as though he was pounding out of his chest, he had to do something as a response, he was going to do something...

The pharaoh broke eye contact as he shut his eyes tight in pure pain, the night had been getting on and it was nearing it's end which meant the true, awful, agonizing pain was beginning. The final round of stab wounds impeded its way into his body "Slashed to pieces" just like on that night all those years ago. Ahkmenrah gasped out in pure agony breaking the ere about them, as the young Pharaoh coughed out and like every Deathday, he choked on his own blood.

It was the worse sound Larry had ever heard in his life, one second the two were exploring their hearts and the next the man he loved was gasping out and choking on his own blood. The sound of the blood stuck in his throat echoed throughout the chamber, both statues of Anubis looked over at their Pharaoh but they knew there was nothing to do but wait till morning.

Larry knelt down closer to Ahkmenrah and held his hand tightly "It's okay, we're almost to morning then this will all be over." comforted the night guard, he held tight to the pharaoh's hand holding it in both of his, he brought the hand to his face and kissed his knuckles gently "I'm here with you, okay? You're not in this alone, I'm right here" soothed Larry as he watched the scene before him.

Ahkmenrah was entirely loss to the pain, he heard Larry's words but there was no way he would respond, he couldn't smile back. His eyes would open and close with each other gasp for air as his lungs filled with blood. His hand squeezed tight to Larry's as it was the only thing he could do as memories of the night returned.

Kamunrah stood before him, knife in hand as he stabbed, slashed, and cut into his body. There was no mercy, no regret, nor sorrow as he stabbed him seventy-three times. Tears filled Ahkmenrah's eyes from the pain of death and from the pain of brotherly betrayal, his tears formed then now as Larry held his hand. He gasped out as tears fell down his cheeks. How desperately he tried to grasp air but every gasp and attempt he made lead only to the drowning in his lungs. The Anubis statues moved retaking their proper form as Ahk gasped out once more then all was still.

The sun had risen and all went back to sleep, Ahkmenrah's eyes had closed slowly as he turned back into a mummy right before Larry's own eyes just reminding him what happens every night as the sun rises. Larry closed up the sarcophagus, leaving the pharaoh to rest till night. The image of Ahkmenrah in such pain etched into his brain, the gasp for air lingered in his ears as he made his way towards the exit of the chamber. Larry looked back behind him at the now resting sarcophagus then left the chamber.

The museum was asleep as though the night before it wasn't full of vibrant and energetic life, soon people would be coming in starting their jobs and opening the museum to the public. The night guard walked throughout the museum making sure everything went well that night, that all were in place and ready in the morning.

Like Teddy said all was taken care of. Larry went to the locker and hung up his coat and flashlight he would be back again tonight, but he felt he couldn't wait. All he could think of was Ahkmenrah, the pharaoh had completely taken over his brain, but he needed to head home try to catch a couple of hours of sleep before his next shift.

The day went by what seemed much slower then the night did, even though he slept for several hours he still found himself waiting and it felt too long of a wait. He couldn't help himself Larry wanted to see Ahk, so he arrived a bit early for his shift.

Since there was still roughly an hour before he would come in Larry found himself wandering the halls and rooms of the museum, he knew them like the back of his hand at this point. He knew who was supposed to be where, just how many steps it took to get to the room over. These exhibits were his friends and seeing them in the morning hours when they were still and asleep he couldn't help but feel lonely.

Too anyone else they were just exhibits of the past, but to Larry they were his family and friends and how he wished he could see them not only at night, but that he could leave the museum and hang out with them, but he knew that wasn't possible.

"Aren't we early tonight" stated Dr. McPhee rolling on the balls of his feet, catching Larry's attention.

"Ya I bit, nothing else to do, thought I'd just look around" responded Larry gesturing towards Sacajawea's exhibit as she stood next to Louis and Clark.

"Don't you just 'look around' all night?" asked McPhee

"Yep" Larry nodded "Yes I do"

McPhee nodded slowly, looked about him at the exhibits then back to Larry. "Well, we're beginning to close up so feel free to get your shift started" he finished before leaving the room, as he himself was ready to go home for the night, the same way Larry felt he was going home for the night.

Larry went back to his locker grabbing his coat and flashlight, but instead of going to the front entrance of the museum he made his way straight to the tomb of Ahkmenrah, walked past the Anubis statues and stood near sarcophagus and there he waited.

It didn't feel like a particularly long wait, for it wasn't long before he heard creaking too his right. He turned his head to look at the owner of the noise and he watched as the Anubis statues woke from their sleep, one even yawning like that of a jackal before both turned their large heads and faced Larry; eyeing him closely. They knew he had been there even in sleep they guarding the pharaoh, they didn't attack the night guard anymore like how they used too, but they still kept an eye on him whenever he was near.

Larry had to admit he was glad that the Anubis were too large to leave the chamber otherwise he knew they would follow Ahk around the entire museum and Larry wouldn't dare getting as close as he tended to with the Pharaoh with the two watching him at all times.

His thoughts were soon interrupted as he heard another creak, one of gold sliding against gold. Larry quickly turned his attention away from the statues and towards the sarcophagus instead, he went to go and help open it up, but within seconds sitting straight up from the resting place was Ahkmenrah in all his glory and beauty. Larry had to admit, Ahkmenrah was possibly the most beautiful man in the world and the world didn't even know that.

Ahk looked over at Larry already knowing or expecting the night guard to be there, Larry didn't know which. Rising from his sarcophagus Ahkmenrah approached Larry just as he did every night not a sign showing what he had been through the previous night.

"If I hadn't seen it myself last night I wouldn't have known just what it was you had gone through" Larry laughed lightly as Ahk approached him with his signature smile Larry was so fond of.

"Thank you" stated Ahk locking eyes with Larry just as they had done last night "I've always had those nights alone, I'm very thankful that you were there. You have no idea what it meant to me" neither broke eye contact, both reading each other. They both shared the fear that perhaps all they imaged last night was false and they didn't truly see each other the way they hoped.

"You should have told me sooner, I would have been by your side in seconds" both hearts were pounding within their chests, hands clammed from nerves as they waited on who would be the first to make a move towards what they both wanted.

"I didn't know if you wanted to be by my side" confessed Ahk

Larry laughed lightly as a broad smile crossed his face "Your side is the only one I want to be by" he confessed.

Ahkmenrah stepped forward much closer now, closer then they had ever been before they were nearly touching. Touching chests, noses, lips...

"And I by yours" stated Ahk as the two gently crossed the distance and kissed lightly, it was sweet and mildly hesitant as both were nervous, but when they pulled back they were both smiling fools. "I've waited for this moment for quite awhile" chuckled Ahk as he cupped a hand on Larry's cheek.

Larry leaned into his hand as their foreheads touched and pressed together, both nearing to kiss once again.

"Gigantor!" Larry closed his eyes lightly then looked down at the origin of the voice, Jed was down below on the ground next to Octavius. "That was the most peck of a kiss I've ever seen!" Larry's cheeks grew flushed, as Ahkmenrah laughed lightly.

"You can do better Larry" encouraged Octavius

"Ya, you can! The Pharaoh deserves better!" shouted out Jed giving Ahk a thumbs up "Here Gigantor like this!" Jed grabbed hold of Octavius giving him a deep and passionate kiss before pulling away and looked back up at Larry "See!?" he shouted up.

"Yes Larry, like that" teased Ahkmenrah with a smile that spread across his whole face.

"Okay I think I get it, I'll do better." responded Larry sarcastically as Ahk grabbed his cheek once more and kissed him, deeper and more passionately then they did the first time and when they pulled apart both were grinning, mildly short of breath.

"Much better" breathed out Ahkmenrah smiling fondly at Larry still cupping his face in his hand.

As I’ve said recently I’ve found myself back into this ship and they will not leave my mind so I had to write this fic, especially after I found the headcanon about everyone reliving their deaths every year. it just came together so well.

[stars-trash-18]

Home 4

That was a long hiatus than I as expecting, but I’m finally settled into my new home and schedule so I found time to finish this chapter. You know the rules, message me with mistakes. Ps. First time making a post on a tablet so IDK if the format will be off. @imjustdanna @misguidedandbeguiled @cosmicbreathe @justnat15

Edit: Finally got my computer back so I edited this chapter and am working on another

It had been years since the war had ended and yet you still remembered every detail. From the flashes of blaster fire and the screams of soldiers just wanting to have freedom from the empire. You could still feel the burns from where the flames licked your leg after your transport had been shot down, and yet you still dragged the limb as you hobbled to the trenches. The mud enveloping your boots as you plopped down and began to quickly work your way across the injured, stuffing blaster holes with gauze to staunch the bleeding and slapping a bacta patch where you could spare. Lucky thing the stormtroopers had a lousy shot and most of the snipers had been moved to the other lines.

You could feel your breath coming out in warbled croaks from all the ash coating them and heard a child’s scream among the ashes. You swiveled around trying to find where the hell the sound was coming from only to have a massive weight drop onto your chest.

“Zaza wake up it’s market day!” Your son screeched, sitting his weight onto your chest and abruptly pulling you from your nightmare. You groaned but plastered on a smile looking at Attila’s sweet smiling face, you could never stay mad for long.

You rolled over and trapped Attila under your weight and attacked his sides with your tickling fingers making him squirm and shriek.

“What have I told you about waking me up like that kiddo,” you teased, pausing to allow him a chance to breathe and answer.

“Not to, unless in an emergency,'' he replied, wrapping his arms around his sides to try and protect them from another onslaught.

“It was an emergency, Paz is here and he wanted me to wake you up so we could get going,” Attila admonished, scrambling from the bed to stand in the doorway, “Now get up, I want to watch the parade come in,” he yelled again before racing through the house.

You gave a deep groan before finally rolling out of bed, grabbing the clothes you had set out the day beforehand. You had forgotten the favor the Armorer had asked of you a few days prior. You were surprised however to see that Paz had come earlier than you had thought, making you lace your boots up quickly to catch up and help him get everything loaded onto the wagon for transport.

You grabbed your thermos of coffee and the box of lunch you had packed the day before, skipping meals was not something you did or allowed in your home. Food was too good for that. Slapping your hand on the door frame on your way out, letting the symbol of your old squadron brush your fingertips before you followed the sounds of your son asking every question under the sun.

“Mr.Paz how is this made?” He inquired, holding up a brightly colored, well embroidered blanket. You moved to scold Attila for barraging your guest with questions but Paz spoke before you could. The man seemed to shrink under the gaze of your child as he took the blanket from Attila’s hands to gently fold.

“ This blanket tells a story, a mother typically stitches it for her young about the history of her family. These darker colors and embroidery tell of hardship, while these brighter colors and embroidery tell of peace or battles won,” he explained, trailing a hand over the different parts of the blanket. He had Attila wrapping up in his story, his eyes soaking up every movement and word Paz made.

“However this blanket tells the story of Mandalorians as a whole, our history and creed are embedded in this blanket in hopes that if a Mandalorian ever sees it they’ll know we’re out here and they’re not alone, this section speaks of The Way, or the oaths that we make to never let anyone but our family see our faces so that we can remain safe and honor the Manda,” Paz finished, tapping his helmet to show your son his own Oath.

“That’s so COOL, zaza wears a necklace and they tell me it’s because they took an oath, so I guess that’s their helmet,” he blurted, tracing one of the intricate patterns. At that you decide to step in, kids are the most honest beings in the galaxy and before you know it he'll give away your recipes.

“That’s enough Attila, go get the twins ready to hitch up while I finish here with mister Paz,” you chastised. Watching him run off towards the stalls with the Kybucks. They were two of the most expensive creatures you owned next to your varactyl but they were well worth the money.

“I’m sorry for getting here so early, you didn’t specify a time and I figured since the town is a good 2 hours from here you’d want to leave early,” he said, tying the beautiful blanket next to several others.

“It’s alright Paz, I’m sorry my son was bothering you with questions, his curiosity gets the best of him at times,” you sighed, setting your essentials down in the driver’s seat and begin loading some of your supplies in. Paz let out a genuine laugh, one that was deep and rumbled through the air, but it was a pleasant rumble.

“It’s perfectly fine, an Adi’kas curiosity is one of my favorite things about them, it shows that they have a hunger to learn and that you’re raising him to learn about others,” he quipped, helping you lift a heavy box filled with bottles of milk from your dairy cattle. You briefly rested your hand on his forearm looking him directly in his visor trying to find where his eyes might be.

“Thank you Paz, truly,” you said before moving to the harnesses to help Attila.

-time skip cause I’m lazy-

You’d been on the road for over an hour listening to Attila point out various places to Paz as you steered the cart towards town and took small sips of your coffee. But Attila soon fell asleep curled up on top of the blankets Paz brought and you sat in silence with the giant man next to you.

The silence didn’t last long before Paz leaned into you to catch your attention, jerking his head towards the Kybucks.

“I’ve never seen Kybucks used for pulling carts, only with single riders,” he said. Watching the two twin Kybucks as they knocked their heads together at the sound of someone paying them attention. You grinned before clicking your tongue to get them to pick up the pace slightly.

“Because no one thought they’d be good at it, but when you get two who work well together they can pull weight better than Dewbacks learned first hand in the war,” you said with a smile. Glancing back at Attila.

“Attila mentioned something about it before you walked out. I figured you had some training with how you stood up against me and my clansmen,” Paz leaned back in his seat, his words coming out like a sigh as he visibly relaxed.

“Yeah some training never leaves you, so you better remember what I’m about to say before we get to the market if you want your clansmen to make a decent profit,” you snapped, taking on the persona of your drill sergeant. Paz only tilted his helmet inquisitively at you, which only cooled your fake temper.

“Your clan leader probably already told you, but on this planet we work with some of the other craftsmen, it’s the reason I don’t refine much of my goods, because somebody buys the leather off me and they take it to some good friends of mine who in return give me a small percentage,” you explained, remembering the lecture from when you first started going to the markets.

“Your clan seems to be pretty good at textiles, so I’ll introduce you to the Grondomire’s they’ll be able to start sending you customers with their undyed linen, cotton, and wools and they’ll make the deal because A) Mandalorian dyes are some of the best and B) they hate dyeing it themselves because it takes too much time,” you listed, turning around to see what else the Mandalorians had brought, warily eyeing the small amount of weapons.

“People don’t really use weapons around here, only for shooting vermin, your clan could make a killing making good farm equipment so I’ll also introduce you to the Mortarsons they own a few of the mines and would be more than happy to supply you with ore so long as you supply them with finished mining equipment, again they’ll make the deal because of how good mandalorian smithing is and they can save money from importing off world,” you quipped, steering the Kybucks through the city’s main gate and past the residential district.

Paz seemed to perk up a bit, “you’re people don’t like talking with off worlders do they?” He queried. You only nodded your head to let him know he can continue.

“So how will they respond to my people, we’re more reclusive and mandalorians are more largely known for mercenary work,” he furthered, leaning one of his elbows on his knee, first staring at you before swiveling his head around the passing streets. He acted like most of the your fellow veterans, wary of the openness and looking for danger that isn’t there.

“It’ll take getting used to of course, but if you show them that you’re not here for mercenary work and that you truly only want to trade and settle here they’ll be more welcoming, that’s why I agreed to bring you here; because I can tell your clan wants some peace and the best way to do that is by making sure others don’t see you as a threat, My friend’s know wouldn’t charter my land to just anyone,” you replied, resting a hand on his open knee. He surprised you by gently resting his over yours, lightly squeezing it.

“Thank you, burc’ya our creed favors honor through battle yes, but it also tells us that we gain honor through the loyalty to our clan and surviving, it is something that not many Aruetii know of our people because we keep our creed sacred, but you’ve become a tomad, an ally,” he admitted. It cause your heart to stutter for a moment seeing how he showed that chink in his armor, a window that showed you that he may be a warrior but he cared so deeply for his clan that he’d allow you to see things not others would. All because you helped them and didn’t turn them away like many have done since the Great Purge.

But your tender moment came to an abrupt halt when Attila plopped himself in your lap squealing.

“Zaz we’re here! And Andronica is here too,” he yelled, pointing to his Twi’lek friend from school. Her mother setting up her stall next to your usual place, and when Roni set eyes on Attila she quickly made her way over to you. You pulled the Kybucks to a halt, handing the reins to Paz and hauled Attila over your lap and onto the ground, giving him a small bag of credits and his hat.

“Strange how you slept all the way here but the moment we walk through the gates you’re wide awake, you know the rules son stick to em’ and you can run off with Roni all you like,” you admonished. Ruffling his hair for a moment before he darted off into the market with Roni close to his heels. Their shrieks of delight floating into the still early air.

Paz seemed skeptical at first, his eyes seeming to trail the two kids far into the crowd before you gave him a nudge to relax. You both dismount the cart and start to assemble the stall, you directing Paz on where to set his wares on occasion. It was going to be a long day.

[theinevitablemrzodo]

The Adventures of Attila

A few years back, I played in a game of Albedo: Platinum Catalyst run by a friend of mine. Our group was solid, and we played nearly every week for about two years. The result was an epic campaign that was hella fun. Earlier today I recounted the story on one of my Discords, and decided I would share it here as well. Enjoy. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So we all made our characters. We had a pretty good spread, sniper, heavy weapons, infantry grunts. I decided to round it out by making my chacter a Driver. He was a raccoon named Attila.

My job was to drive the truck that got everyone to the fight. By no intention of my own, i ended up with the highest rank, so was appointed the company commander. We were assigned to an agrarian backwater world, where nothing exciting was happening.  The first general order i gave was to "Drink the local beer". In other words, make nice with the locals.

Of course before long, the planet was invaded by the ILR. They blitzed onto the world, destroyed the main headquarters, and cut us off from support. Turns out our group was one of the only ones to survive. The only orders we could get through spotty communications was to evade capture, and resist if possible.

Attila put a cigar in his mouth, and said, "alright, let's do this" and we went to ground. Turns out the locals weren't happy about the invasion, and remembered that we drank the local beer, so were able to help a bit with that.

Thus began an extended guerrilla campaign against the occupying forces. We would hit them in annoying and unexpected ways, and vanish into the night. Our guy with demolitions got lots os fun things to do. Early on, i took to tagging our strikes by spray painting "Love, Attila"

It didn't take long before we were getting put on wanted lists. Funny thing, though, the locals never seemed to see anything. We eventually had a bit of off planet support, and with it, were directed to take out specific strategic targets.

Attila put a cigar in his mouth and said, "Alright, let's do this." Our group had gotten good enough to take out some pretty hard targets. At one point, we managed to capture a helicopter pilot, and his helicopter.  We treated the prisoner well, and started working on turning him to our side. Not an easy task, considering he was a rabbit.

It was at this point i realized there's only one vehicles skill. I was a very good truck driver, and this meant i was a very good helicopter pilot.

Attila grinned.

We mostly used the helicopter for recon because it was light and unarmed. (Our gm wasn't letting us get a gunship. Yet.) Our successes continued,  and we were finally instructed to rendezvous with the main force establishing a beachhead at an airfield/spaceport.

We were successfully fighting our way to the rendezvous when the ILR dropped a relativistic rock on the airfield. Boom. We lost most of our equipment,  and barely survived. Once again we had to go to ground.

This show of desperation was a turning point, though. The population started actively resisting, and we gave them tactical support. We got a communication from off world that the big invasion was coming, and we should do what we could to support. No material supplies could be sent, though.

Attila put a cigar in his mouth and said, "Let's do this."

I decided we were going for the big enchilada. I put out rumors that Attila was planning to strike the main ILR air base. Meanwhile, our actual target was the main communication hub. This ended up being a big multi-session mission, and was completely successful. The hub was destroyed, and tagged with "Love, Attila"

This led to a successful invasion, and surrrender by the ILR. With one condition. The general would only surrender to Attila.

Attila put a cigar in his mouth and said,  "Let's do this."

The general had no ulterior motives. He just wanted to face the enemy that defeated him eye to eye for once, and handed over his sword.

I replied, "Thank ya. Love, Attila."

[attilarrific]

Booping you now since you missed boop day

boop!!!

super boop! evil boop!

I literally don't know what either of those are, but I'm doing them anyway!

[astronicht]

re: Mordor's location

I'm confused! I can understand being annoyed that Mordor is in the east (for me, it's because any new birth/new beginnings symbolism fails. BUT on the other hand, it works great with tolkien's biblical stuff - from study.com, "'East of Eden' is an allusion to the Biblical Book of Genesis. After Cain murders his brother Abel, he is exiled to the land of Nod, 'east of Eden' (Genesis 4:16)". I LOVE Tolkien's biblical symbolism, and smeagol murdering his brother is a direct cain/abel reference, so having the evil be to the east really works for me.

So I guess I'm just wondering if a) the symbolism thing is what irritates you about Mordor's location (or if there's something else I'm missing), and b) how does the evil being in the north resolve this?

Hey cool question!

Caveat that I’m literally just liveblogging my first ever read of LOTR, so while I read Hobbit as a kid and I know the movies and a good portion of the medieval prose and poetry Tolkien is drawing on very well, the only LOTR text I can reference is… from the Shire to Weathertop. Additionally, my perspective is as a medievalist, but I wasn't raised Christian and can’t speak to Tolkien’s personal faith, just to how he might use (and does use) historical Christianity (and a bunch of non-Christian narratives) in his work. At least like. Up to Weathertop.

Short answer a) not exactly! b) Because I expected evil to be in the north, and it checked that box. So-- your particular interest in Christian symbolism is immediately relevant here, because about 700 years before the King James Bible, in the medieval literature (and medieval Christianity) among which Tolkien has settled his own Middle-Earth, people had very very strong feelings about the cardinal directions, and North was heavily associated with Lucifer — this being stated explicitly in an Old English retelling of Genesis called The Old English Hexameron. Here, Lucifer's fall starts like this:

"with a presumptuous pride (moodiness) he said that he would make his throne above the stars of God, over the height of the clouds, in the north part, and be like unto God." (p. 17; not my translation but my guy Henry Wilkins Norman nailed it)

mid dyrstigre modignysse cwæð ðæt he wolde wyrcan his cynesetl bufan Godes tunglum ofer ðæra wolcna heannysse on ðam norð dæle and beon Gode gelic. (p. 16)

In non-Christian stories (though written down centuries later by Christians), the Gylfaginning in the Prose Edda describes Hel as “down and to the North” (sorry, just a link wiki here). So, same idea, and beyond these texts, North is generally associated with hell, death, or evil in early medieval literature, much more clearly than East usually is (even factoring in Old English and Old Norse stories about Cain, Attila the Hun, and the more exciting fauna of the Indian subcontinent, all of which formed the early medieval idea of East). Thus, finding out that an original Big Bad, of whom Sauron was “but a servant,” had once made his throne in the north made me go “OH! He didn’t forget after all!” in utter frustrated delight. My confusion wasn't exactly with evil in the east; it was the lack of evil in the north.

(this reply is really long, but my main point ends here, for anyone looking to bail out)

Actually, Genesis retellings in Old English are absolutely fascinating; I’m not wedded to Christian-only symbolism, but if it’s what you enjoy a lot, I very much suggest looking into the Hexameron and Genesis A, both great examples and very well known to Tolkien.

Personally I suspect I'll end up reading the symbolism of Mordor in the east as a more complex and varied thing than solely a reference to Cain's banishment. But to be really clear, in saying that I'm definitely not saying that Cain and Nod aren't valid interpretations (especially when they work for you so well!). Just my guess and my perspective. Old evil in the north and Mordor in the east is really interesting! So was the story of how Hobbits etc wandered out of the east to colonize the Shire, in another early medieval echo. And with Aragorn's throwaway "In those days the Great Enemy, of whom Sauron of Mordor was but a servant, dwelt in Angband in the North" I got an extra point on the map, from which the story immediately unspooled into an even wider and richer thing. Which is so neat, I love everyone in this bar, etc.

Just a quick further note on Smeagol, because I happen to have just gone past this bit and it's fresh! As far as I know at uhhh this very early point in LOTR (maybe it's changed later), Deagol was not his brother but simply his friend: “He had a friend called Deagol, of a similar sort, sharper-eyed but not so quick and strong” (though if you like the Cain and Abel imagery, this doesn't change that much tbh! I can see how it hits that note regardless). They are under the same matriarch (perhaps implying family ties) who eventually throws Smeagol out years after Deagol's murder; I liked that bit, bc I have no idea where Tolkien's pulling proto-hobbit matriarchs from yet, and Smeagol later lied and said the matriarch had given him the One Ring, implying that she was a ring-giver like an Old English/Norse thane or king. Smeagol and Deagol (and Frodo) are also wrapped up in lots of different tropes and symbols; Cain and Abel, yes, but also Beowulf and Grendel, and probably some other stuff I'll notice in like 10 years and yell at the ghost of Tolkien about. I think these stories work so well because they’re layers upon layers. It’s stories all the way down, you know!

Much like this reply, which is endless, so sorry about that.

[wolves-against-the-world]

Chapter 2

Summary: The wolves are out for the monthly hunt, but of course things don't go as planned. CN body horror (?) and gore obv

The moon stood high in the dark night sky, not tainted by the few clouds hovering in the glow like ghosts. Silvery light leaked through the bare branches, illuminating dark shapes moving silently through the trees. It was going to snow soon, they could smell it in the frigid air. The dry cold made every sound as sharp as breaking twigs.

They wore only light clothing that was easy to discard. They didn't need anything warmer. Most of them.

“Took you long enough,” Sasha growled when Eike and Milo emerged from the shadows.

“Sasha,” Attila reprimanded him mildly.

Sasha huffed, but didn’t comment further. The wolf was getting impatient. “Was your search successful?”, Attila asked.

“We have the map if you mean that,” Milo replied, waving said map for emphasis. “But I doubt there's a point in discussing it right now.” He nodded at Eike. Despite the cold, his short hair was plastered to his forehead.

“That's true.” Attila couldn’t help smiling. Only now he raised himself from the fallen tree he had been sitting on. He began to open his shirt.

“My friends, this is the night we hunt. And pray for the great wolf to give us something tasty.”

“Fucking finally.” Sasha threw off his clothes. He wasn’t young anymore, but he’d retained his lean, muscular shape long after he'd been relieved of the hard physical labour his life had been marked by. His brown skin shone silvery in the moonlight as he shifted. Bones cracked rapidly as the sections broke apart, reconnecting with a snap and healing in place. Hair broke through skin, covering pulsing muscle. The shells of his face unraveled to form a snout, teeth coming forth, tearing through flesh, and Sasha howled in pain and relief as his wolf was finally freed. The dry leaves crunched under his paws, easily big enough to crush a smaller mammal.

Sasha stretched with a hum of pleasure, every movement elegant and fluent despite his greyed fur.

He looked at Attila with glowing eyes and licked his scarred snout. This is gonna be fun.

Now that the permission had been issued, Eike couldn’t hold back any longer. He could barely throw off his jacket before the shift began. His transformation was slow and painful. Every single change was visible in his gaunt body. The claws came forth first, the fingers drawing in on themselves to form paws, covered by thick brown hair soon enough. His head snapped back when his spine began to lengthen, the vertebrae in his neck rearranging for a form on four feet. He finally collapsed when his legs snapped, the femur breaking to accommodate the change of ratio in his limbs. Eike didn’t have enough breath to scream. The process was disconcerting to watch, even after so many years. It took about two minutes until it was over.

Eike’s wolf was small, barely bigger than a medium-sized Saint-Bernard, but much sleeker, with long legs and slim shoulders. His light brown fur was only broken by a white spot right on the tip of his tail.

Eike was panting heavily, but he picked himself up without complaint. Sasha allowed him to lean against his flank until he stopped shaking.

Eike let out a whine when he saw his torn clothes on the ground. Attila had to suppress his laughter. That was the price he paid for bundling up so much before a shift. Now he'd have to go back naked when dawn came. Perhaps that way he would learn.

Milo helped Attila stash their clothes in a plastic bag under a fallen tree, before he stepped back and shifted. Milo knew exactly that he was sexy, and he moved like it. It was unfair, almost. Nobody should look this good during a shift. The noise was unpleasant, but he claimed it barely even hurt, and within seconds, he had taken his new form.

Milo shook himself, his thick copper fur shining in the moonlight. His teeth glinted in the moonlight when he yawned. One fang had broken off long ago, but it didn’t taint his grin. Even standing on all fours, his shoulders were on the same height as Attila’s head.

He stretched every paw individually, letting the claws come forth before retracting them again to soften his step. Eike pressed up to his flank in an affectionate gesture, but kept his head and tail lowered. Milo let out an amused snort and licked Eike's ear.

Attila suppressed a smile. The wolf made it easier to show affection that the human form didn’t permit. Milo’s fur was also very warm. Sasha brushed Milo’s flank as he stepped towards Attila. The three wolves watched him, ears raised in expectation. Their breaths formed white clouds in the cool air as they waited for their leader to speak.

“Blood and a blessing for us.”

The wolf inside him roared, and now Attila didn't suppress it anymore. The beast was thirsty for blood and he allowed it to run free. Finally.

He laid his head back and howled. It rang out between the trees like a battle cry.

His body burned with the shift. The shards of bone normally firmly connected broke, being pulled into their new shape and reconnected with the itch of healing wounds. Layers of bone that formed his face stretched outward, teeth and claws grew and ripped through formerly intact skin. The pain numbed his senses, but while the man died and the wolf came forth he felt more alive than ever.

Even before his paws touched the cold earth, he could smell the winter night, the smoke from far away houses, the trails of humans who now slept, safe and sound behind fragile defenses that they thought impenetrable. And most importantly, he smelled fear. The animals felt their presence and they were scared. He could hear them rustling through the underbrush, trying to hide from the threat that had encroached on their territory. Attila shook himself and stretched to get rid of the ghosts of pain in his joints. It was about time he could run with his pack again.

The wolves greeted him enthusiastically as Attila stepped forward to take his place at the front. He wasn't much bigger than Eike, yet the others respectfully lowered their heads as he passed by. His thick iron-gray fur nearly melted into the shadows, only contrasted by the white hairs around his nose, witness to the many years that had passed.

My brothers. It is time.

Milo and Sasha positioned themselves behind him on both sides, and Eike took his position behind them, forming a diamond shape. The moonlight turned them into shadows between the trees. Only their ears twitched in search of prey.

Attila howled and the others joined in.

The hunt had begun.

Their paws left deep gouges in the earth as the wolves leaped forward, their lust for blood finally unleashed. They had barely passed half a dozen trees before Eike howled in primal triumph and threw himself at an animal that had been too weak to flee. It was only a small deer, but Eike radiated glee as he dug into the hot meat until his fur was painted black.

At least it's not a rabbit again, Milo commented.

They laughed. Eike could catch up with them when he was back in control.

The forest was dark and silent except for the heavy drumming of their paws on the frozen ground. For a while they only ran and enjoyed the wind running through their fur. The scent of the night was amplified during the moon, intoxicating in its complexity. The ground under their paws was cool, every leaf a reminder they were where they were supposed to be.

They only stopped for a moment to take a few sips from the small stream, before the wolf once again demanded to run. Animals fled from their path, but it took a while until something suitable showed itself.

Milo and Sasha saw the stag at the same time and leaped at it side by side.

What could have been side by side.

They collided in the middle of flight and crashed into the leaves in a mess of fur and claws and limbs. The stag stood frozen for a second before it made the smart decision to run for its life.

That was my prey, you ass!

- Yours? I saw it first!

Milo pushed Sasha off of him. Sasha pushed back so hard Milo crashed against the next tree. Three seconds later they rolled over the earth in a snarling storm of claws and teeth.

How can a wolf of your age be this incompetent?

- I'M incompetent? Who almost jumped on my back there, huh?!

Take your ass out of my face?

- Take your face out of my ass, what's wrong with you?

I wouldn't do this voluntarily for a million kronor, you- Ow!

They dissolved into laughter as the offended tree bombarded them with leaves and smaller branches.

Attila shook his head and chuckled to himself. If there was a genuine fight going on, he would have intervened, but it was hardly the first scuffle between the brothers he’d witnessed. They knew how to use their claws without breaking skin.

They all needed to let off steam sometimes.

Attila sat down and laid his tail over his paws to watch his brothers play. He'd nearly given in to the desire to follow the stag, but decided against it. Hunger was only a faint pinch in his stomach right now. He had had a decent dinner only an hour before to prepare for the night.

The real pleasure was the hunt itself, the feeling of the night air in his fur, the community of the pack, the fear of the prey, and the taste of blood after the killing bite. That was something no human food could match (although he had had a damned good steak once.)

A little wistfully, Attila realized even the hunt had lost some of its pleasure for him. Maybe that was the privilege of a simple pack member: Never having to think further than the next kill. To just enjoy the night, without any worries beyond your assigned task.

Maybe they could find a bear tonight, or a moose. Enough for them all. Humans could fill a wolf more than any animal ever could, but they were frail and weak and small, it was never enough for everyone, even in a small pack like theirs. The new technology made it hard to hunt without arousing suspicion, not to speak of - he sighed at the thought - having his pack get attached to people.

Give up, it's over! Milo had taken the upper hand and pressed Sasha down with his weight, one paw on Sasha's throat in a fake threat. His tail waved a bit too much to be entirely convincing. Sasha roared in frustration, writhed, tried to bite him, but Milo was far too big and heavy to shake off.

Attila got up and shook leaves from his paws. His brothers didn't pay him any attention.

How unfortunate for them. Attila threw himself onto Milo's back. His claws dug deep into the thick fur, holding on easily without breaking skin. The sudden weight ripped Milo to the left and made him somersault into a tree, where he vanished in a shower of dry leaves that rustled disapprovingly.

Attila released his grip well before that. He rolled over the ground and landed on his paws again. His body was tingling from the excitement, and he kept his head low, the growl just at the back of his throat.

For a moment, nothing moved. Milo had stopped against the tree, all four feet in the air, covered in dead leaves. He blinked at Attila from his upside down position as the silence stretched, only broken by their heavy panting.

Attila cocked his head in challenge. He could hear Sasha get up somewhere behind him. Good. Two enemies were always much more fun to deal with. Well?

Milo staggered to his feet and dropped to a crouch, ears pressed to his head and tail low between his legs.

I’m sorry, he began. We didn't want to-

It's alright my friend, Attila interrupted. Who says I can't join in if you're having fun? He grinned. Unless you're too scared to challenge an old wolf.

Maybe it was a mistake to show himself susceptible to this kind of childish game. It wasn't exactly a sign of leadership to play around like a pup. But the devil take him if it didn't feel good. He missed a good fight.

Milo and Sasha looked at each other. Milo's ears twitched as they communicated on a level Attila couldn't access. They separated, Milo to the left and Sasha to the right. Attila waited. He stood calm, seemingly unmoved by their threat, his head held high to seem as tall as possible against his much bigger opponents. Milo and Sasha circled him. He couldn't possibly keep them both in check at the same time, even by listening to their steps. Milo lunged forward and slashed at him, forcing Attila into a defensive stance, as Sasha threw himself at him from behind. They almost got him.

Almost.

He heard Sasha's paws scrape the earth as he prepared the attack and it was just loud enough to calculate exactly what Sasha was aiming for. Attila avoided Milo's purposefully ill-aimed swipe, dropped to the ground and rolled on his back. Sasha sailed far over his intended target and Attila took the chance to kick Sasha's exposed belly as hard as he could. Sasha squeaked as his controlled flight turned into a wild somersault that ended with him crashing right into Milo – again. The two wolves tumbled into a stack of leaves that exploded in all directions, where they came to a rest.

What the fuck, Sash?

Do better then, Sasha snapped.

Before they had time to disentangle themselves, Attila was over them and set his front paws down on their necks. He could feel his claws dig deep into their pelts, so close to the vital arteries pumping hot blood. It seemed like a good plan, but you might want to work on the execution. He huffed. You know, there's plenty of time to cuddle later. You’re brothers, there’s no shame in it.

Fucking hell, Sasha said plainly.

Now it's obvious that I won, but we have to stick to the protocol, Attila explained. I ask you, do you give up and accept my-

Attila was slammed against the tree so hard his vision dissolved into static. Something heavy landed on him but rolled away, while Attila himself vanished in a sea of crunching leaves and mud. It took several seconds to bring his thoughts into some kind of order. What the...

There's a problem, Eike said.

No shit. Attila felt very tired all of a sudden. A problem. What a surprise.

Attila staggered to his feet and shook himself to get rid of the dizziness. All it accomplished was making him fall on his side again. He thought he heard Milo say something, but the ringing in his head drowned out almost everything else. He found stable ground under his numb feet. He stood.

Somewhere, Sasha and Milo got up, not without a salve of creative curses. Sasha audibly kicked at something, spraying leaves everywhere.

This is probably the worst night I've had in-

Shush, Milo hissed. Look. He flicked an ear at the shadows between the trees.

Eike had stopped his flight at the end of a long swath of destruction to the local flora and visibly strained to get up. Fresh blood had left a shimmering trail on the ground.

Sasha pricked up his ears and scanned the area. Nothing.

All he heard was Eike who limped over to them, cursing with every step. Blood dripped from his flank. Sasha felt his fur stand on end. If it took this long to heal, it must have been a deep injury.

Stay back, Sasha ordered. He stepped forward, staying inches behind their leader. Attila hadn't said anything in a long time.

What is it? No answer. Attila only stood there, eyes and ears fixed on the shadows.

Yes, Pawel, tell them. What is it?

What the fuck?! Milo nearly leapt into the next treetop. He looked around in barely concealed panic, neck hairs puffed up like a startled cat. There was nobody in sight.

I thought- I thought we can't talk to others without an agreement, Eike stammered.

We can't.

Attila's formerly firm stance dropped.

This is our territory. After the long silence, the statement was pathetic. What do you want?

The voice only laughed. Sasha growled and stepped forward until he stood right next to his pack leader, close enough for their shoulders to touch.

Attila was shaking.

What do I want? I think you know, dear friend. It's been too long.

Sasha couldn't help but flinch. The wolf stepped out of the shadows where a second ago Sasha would have sworn nobody had been.

Eike's description had been spot-on. The wolf was nearly Milo's size, which was ridiculously large even for a werewolf, and entirely jet black. Blood shimmered on his paws.

The moment the wolf revealed himself, Attila's expression changed. He squinted and let out a low growl.

Scram, before we tear you apart.

Again they heard the laughter that let Sasha's fur stand on end. For the first time in his life, it felt like there was an intruder in his thoughts. Even during his first full moon it hadn't felt so... wrong.

Attila roared and threw himself at the interloper. Sasha and Milo ran to help, but the duel had already dissolved into a storm of claws and teeth. Attila and the black wolf had become little more than a growling, spitting ball. To get between them now would have been suicide. Instead they circled the fight, waiting for a chance to strike without endangering their leader.

Blood splashed on the ground, hot and sweet in the cold air, and Attila cursed in a language none of them understood. In the moonlight, Sasha saw Attila's claws tear into the strange wolf's flank, but the following shriek wasn't the enemy's voice. The black wolf's claws ripped his skin open like a zipper, exposing a shimmer of white on his back.

Attila lost his grip. The black wolf dug his teeth into Attila's shoulder and threw him against a tree like a ragdoll. Milo managed to move in and land a hit, but even though he opened a long tear on the enemy's back, the black wolf shook him off and ran.

Sasha chased after him. The smell of blood led him where his eyes couldn't. The strange wolf was hurt and Sasha ran on rage and adrenaline. There were few things who made him furious, but one of them was sassy little intruders who-

Sasha, wait!

He ignored Attila's order. The black wolf had slowed down behind a swath of underbrush. He had to be tired out. Just a few more meters and Sasha could tear out that damned intruder's throat.

SASHA!

The clang of metal echoed in the forest like cannon fire. Sasha had just enough time to wonder what the hell had happened before the ground dropped out under his feet and the world vanished in a dark red wave of agony.

For God's sake, Sasha! Attila had to bring up all his self-control to not roar his frustration into the night sky. The world spun as he tried to stagger to his feet. Shadows danced around him, faint lights flowing into a nauseating prism. The pain in his shoulder nearly overwhelmed him. If Milo hadn’t come to his aid, he might not have made it at all. Eike just stared with eyes wide as teacups, little more than a beige ball of anxiety.

What just happened?

Come along, but watch out. Making his way along the trail Sasha had left took an eternity. Every step hammered a silver spike into his spine. If he walked any faster, he feared his leg would give out entirely. Milo and Eike flanked him, every sense sharpened to detect any and all movement. If they were ambushed now, with three of them already injured, it was over.

Sasha was lying on his side in the middle of a small path between the trees. Not even his ears twitched as they approached.

Stay back, Attila ordered. Milo's protest came as a wordless mixture of anger and fear, but he didn't dare to disobey. At least the demonstration this morning had done something.

Won't the other wolf come back?, Eike asked.

Attila didn't dare shake his head in response. He couldn't afford to pass out now.

Not tonight.

Attila stepped forth and shuddered at the sight. A massive bear trap had shut around Sasha's leg, driving its teeth deep into his shoulder and nipping away at his rib cage. They couldn't open that in their wolf form, that was for sure. Attila squinted and tried to see more in the darkness. There was blood dripping from the wound but... it was not enough for such a grave injury. Attila carefully inspected their motionless brother. Sasha was strong. He had already endured far more than this without fainting, so why now?

Great wolf, it can't be...

His senses already told him what he didn't want to believe. The smell of burning flesh was faint, but impossible to ignore. Attila lightly touched the trap with his paw, and immediately withdrew, cursing at the pain.

Milo, run back and get our clothes, quick.

He flinched when Eike suddenly appeared next to him. He pressed into Attila’s flank, looking for reassurance he wasn’t sure he could give. A werewolf that uses silver against his own kind? Is that even... He didn't finish the sentence. Maybe he didn't know how.

It's against everything we believe in.

Attila sat down heavily and rested his snout on Sasha’s flank. His fur was cool on the outside and speckled by frost, but the undercoat was warm, pulsing gently under his touch. His heart was still beating, but for how long?

Eike. Attila closed his eyes. About fifty yards over there, behind that oak tree is the Lindkvist boy. Bring him here. Alive. Can you control yourself?

Eike looked around as if he was searching for the spot Attila meant. He had hoped the boy would take his chance to flee while nobody was looking. Eike liked the Lindkvist family.

Uhm, can I ask why we-

Attila snapped at the air inches from Eike's leg. Stop asking so much.

Eike thought it better not to say anything else.

Crap.

Eike cursed himself. The black wolf had surprised him just as he was finishing his meal. As a pack, an enemy like that was no problem, but he had tricked them, taken them out one by one, and now Attila and Sasha were injured and-

The boy cowered in a small hollow at the base of the tree. Eike could smell him long before he reached the oak. Hell, the whole forest could smell him. He smelled of cigarette smoke, sweat, and fear. And sweet, fresh blood.

Eike stopped dead in his tracks. The thought hit him out of nowhere. Yes, the boy smelled of blood. He was hurt. Simple prey if there ever was one. He just had to sneak around the tree and-

Pull yourself together! Eike shook himself to focus on the present. He wasn't a youngster anymore. In human years he'd be dead or in a nursing home. Milo always said it only took time, that it had taken him over a hundred years to gain full control over his urges, but that knowledge wasn't very helpful when he’d fucked up again.

The boy had curled up against the tree, making himself as small as he could. He whimpered faintly when Eike's wolf came into sight. Eike wagged his tail in a ridiculous attempt to look a little less threatening. Konstantin's jacket was ripped at the shoulder and his blood had soaked the fabric. Eike abruptly stepped back when the wolf inside him shrieked in lust for blood. He wanted to rip the boy apart here and now, taste the blood and flesh-

Eike shook himself and scratched his ear. If he scratched enough, the burning pain brought him back to his senses. When he was reasonably sure he had himself under control, he gently nudged the boy with his nose. Konstantin stared at him with wide eyes and began to cry.

Fuck.

Eike grabbed the boy's jacket with his teeth

– the blood was so close he only had to bite down, it would be so easy –

and heaved Konstantin to his feet. He couldn't allow his own judgments right now. Attila knew what he was doing. For a moment it seemed like the boy would pass out. Eike nudged him gently until he started walking. If he could see anything through the mess of black hair in front of his eyes, he didn’t know, but he walked.

Attila turned his ears towards Eike when he approached, but didn’t look up. He had pressed up against Sasha's back to keep him warm, and gently licked his ears. He wasn't sure for whose comfort.

At the same time, Milo returned with their clothes. Attila heaved himself to his feet and searched through the bag. They needed something thick and sturdy that wouldn't tear easily. He chose a pair of pants that seemed durable. Sasha wouldn't need them right now.

Eike, watch out for the kid, I don't want him to run away. He shook himself. I hate this.

Shifting was always awful. When the moon stood high and clear and the blood called for them, it was easy to forget the pain in the ecstasy of embracing the night. Once a wolf had transformed, they would stay that way until the sun rose.

After all, what absolute madman would try to shift back when the moon was still up?

The process drew itself out much longer than the shift some hours ago, and Attila had to fight for every small step. The back had to shorten, claws and teeth draw back into flesh and bones align in a new pattern, making his body writhe and twist in and out of shape.

None of that was fun to begin with, especially when he was already wounded. Every cell seemed to get torn apart and reassembled, but in the end, he was back in a human body. A human body with some rather wonky proportions and a lot of hair, but they couldn't be picky now.

Attila fell to his knees and didn't try to get up. Blood poured over his back, searing hot. He didn't want to know how bad it was. To shift like this was a labor he hadn't attempted in many years, for good reason. Every heaving breath was too little to sustain him. He could barely lift his hands without trembling. I'm too old for this shit.

Absolutely. And if I might add, you're also completely nuts, old friend.

Welcome back. Even laughing hurt. His body lusted for blood and the feeling of the wind in his fur, to have claws and sharp teeth. This body was wrong and very vocal about the fact.

Sasha blinked slowly. Even in thoughts, his voice sounded tired. I deserved it, didn't I? Maybe it's not only you who's getting old.

Shut up. Attila forced himself to get up, holding on to Milo for balance. They didn't have much time.

He grabbed the pants, ripped them in half and wrapped the fabric around his hands. When he looked up he met Konstantin's blank stare. He hadn't tried to run. He just stood there, shaking, with Eike as a silent watchman behind him.

“Hello, son.” It was hard to speak in this form, the vocal cords not fully formed, but his voice was surprisingly calm. “As you might see, we have a problem here and I require your help with this.”

The boy didn't move. Of course not. It was a ridiculous request, cruel, even.

Eike, give him a little push, please. Eike obeyed and the boy stumbled forward. New tears ran over his cheeks.

“You're werewolves,” he whispered. “Father... and, and that- who is that?”

“I'll tell you everything later.”

I swear by all that is holy, if you die now, I will follow you into the deepest pits of hell just so I can kick your ass.

Sasha laughed. I wouldn’t want it any other way, old friend. His eyes were falling shut again.

Attila grabbed the trap. He could feel the silver even through the protective fabric, but there was no time to adjust his grip. Konstantin knelt down beside him and closed his hands around the metal. He hesitated when he saw the black blood dripping from the wound. Please hold on. Just a little longer. If there had been enough time, Attila would have prayed. A drop of pure silver could kill a healthy wolf given enough time. It had been a popular torture method back in the rare cases a wolf was caught alive. Silver sneaked into your body and poisoned you from within, burning its way through every cell. With a wound like this...

The fabric tore over the sharp edge. Smoke rose where his hands touched the metal. Attila didn't allow himself to let go. The trap squeaked pathetically, but with Konstantin's help, it finally opened. Milo grabbed Sasha by the neck and pulled him away. The trap shut with a bang that echoed between the naked trees. Attila let out his frustration and pain in a low growl and waved his hands to cool them a little. His fur was scorched and the skin painfully sensitive.

He had expected a scream, a growl, some sort of noise when Sasha came free, even if it was just a declaration of pain, but nothing came. Sasha was still.

Attila, little problem. Milo was a notorious optimist. Attila had seen him joke around after being subjected to harrowing torture.

Now he was outright panicking. Forget that, big problem, huge problem. I'm not sure if he's still breathing, or maybe he is, I don't know, can someone else check?

Panic wanted to rise up in his chest. The surge of raw emotion almost made him shift back into his wolf form. But not yet. There was more to do for him first.

Calling out to Sasha, physically and mentally, did nothing. Milo was too jumpy to even stand still, so Attila had to send him away to check on Sasha in peace. His mind blanked out when he didn't find a pulse. They couldn't lose anyone else. Not now. Not like this.

Not him. Please not him.

No, there was something! He did have a pulse, weak and irregular. Sasha was still alive.

Deep breaths. He needed to stay calm, or the others would break down. That was the very first duty of any pack leader: To stay in control, to radiate calm and steadfastness, so that his brothers could forget their own fear and act.

When this is over we need to hold a proper funeral. The last rites too. He deserves that.

Eike's ears and tail dropped. You don't mean-

Attila ignored him. “Konstantin, I need your help again.”

Two rapid, stumbling steps rustled through the leaves as the boy tried to flee. Eike reacted instinctively, grabbing his pants with his teeth. Konstantin fell on his back with a startled yelp. He curled up, shielding his throat, and began to cry.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry I was out here when I shouldn't, I'm sorry I was rude, it won't happen again, I promise! I'll forget about this, I won't tell a soul, I'm a good christian, I-”

Attila gently grabbed his arm and lifted him back onto his feet to lead him over to Sasha's motionless form. The moon called, and this time Attila allowed it to form his hands into claws again. He didn't let go. The boy tried to free himself, but his motions lacked urgency. His face had gone blank, too numb even for fear. "Please."

“I know that you're a good christian, son,” Attila said. He looked Konstantin in the eyes. He deserved that much. At least that. “And believe me when I say this isn't what I wanted to happen. But in these desperate times I don't have a choice. I'm sorry, son. God bless you.”

Attila didn't give himself time for doubt. He dug his claws into the boy's throat and let the sweet blood stream out.

He could only hope it wasn't too late.

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35879680/chapters/89922412

[ultraglittercat]

Drabble 98

Heatwave

On a hot summer day, the people of Corona were desperate to beat the heat. Varian was doing better than most, even with the broken leg he’d acquired earlier in the month. Varian had several methods for keeping cool, such as the miniature fan powered by Ruddiger, which worked until the raccoon got tired. After that, Varian had rewarded his pet with an apple and a promise that they would find a way to stay cool that wouldn’t tire the animal out. He did after all have his soda water, a refreshing carbonated drink he’d perfected over the years, creating different flavors. The cherry vanilla combination was a favorite of both Varian and Quirin.

But today, Varian had a new idea to cool off. He’d built smaller versions of his amber gun, only this time they were full of water. He just needed someone to try them out, he explained as his father wheeled him into town in the wheelchair Varian had designed.

“These water guns are going to work perfectly, Dad.” Varian told him.

“I hope so. You certainly put a lot of effort into them. I’ve got some errands to run in town. Will you be alright here by yourself?” Quirin asked.

Varian nodded. “I probably won’t be alone for long. I asked Lance and the girls to meet me outside Monty’s, and I bet they’ll be here soon.” Varian predicted.

“Have a good day with your friends, then.” Quirin said, heading into Feldspar’s to get some repairs done on his work boots.

Varian had only waited for a few minutes when his friends arrived.

“Varian! What did you want from us? Maybe treat us to some chocolate before it melts in the sun?” Lance greeted him.

“Yeah, chocolate!” the girls chimed in.

“Actually, I had a different idea. You see, I built these water guns but with my foot like this, I can’t really test them. I thought maybe the girls might--” but before Varian had finished his thought, the girls had grabbed the water gun. Kiera pulled the trigger first, squirting Lance in the face.

“No way! These are awesome, V.” she said, truly impressed.

Catalina fired hers next, hitting Ruddiger on Varian’s lap. The little raccoon huffed indignantly and Catalina laughed. “Wow. These things are gonna be so much fun! Can we fire them around town, Dad?” she asked Lance.

“Well, I don’t see the harm in using a little water gun. Just be careful to only squirt people who want to get wet.” Lance cautioned, but the girls didn’t heed the final part of his request. They ran down the busy streets, aiming their water guns at anyone who walked past: Xavier, Fernanda, Attila, anyone they saw basically. They didn’t really get in trouble until they took aim at the Royal Guards, soaking Stan and Pete.

“Kiera! Catalina! You are distracting the guards when they’re trying to work. Stop this right--” Eugene tried to say, and got a face full of water for his trouble. “Who gave you those things, anyway?” Eugene demanded.

“Varian.” replied the girls.

Eugene sighed. He should have known. He thought he’d make it clear to Varian that he shouldn’t invent things that caused a mess or disturbed people in any way after the glitter fiasco, but apparently the lesson hadn’t stuck.

So Eugene marched into town with the girls trailing behind him, still wearing his Captain’s uniform and trying to maintain some dignity, despite his wet hair. Hopefully his hair wouldn’t get too frizzy after it dried.

“Varian! What did I tell you about not making a mess with your inventions?” he shouted.

“Actually, you told me not to make a mess when inventing something for Rapunzel, and she hasn’t touched the water guns.” Varian hid behind a technicality. Lance smirked. He thought Eugene’s hair looked silly, but he knew his friend well enough to keep such comments to himself.

“Okay, fine. Now that rule extends to everyone. This is a hot day and people’s tempers are short. Get the girls to stop using those water guns immediately.” Eugene declared.

“Stop using them? I’ve never felt so refreshed!” Xavier said, walking over to the group. “I wouldn’t mind if they sprayed me again. It remembers of the legend of the Mermaid’s Tears.”

“I liked it too.” admitted Fernanda before walking into Monty’s store.

“I work in front of a hot stove all day. I certainly appreciated the cool down.” Attila called out.

“See? We were helping people. That was our plan all along.” Kiera lied.

“Hmm. I guess it worked out okay, but when the heatwave ends, I want you to put those things away. I still think they’re a nuisance.” Eugene huffed.

“Look at it this way. It could have been worse.” Varian suggested. “I could have given them guns that fired paint.”

The End

Would you trust the girls (or Varian for that matter) with a prototype paintball gun? Probably not the best idea. XD

[emptymasks]

well this is a stupid thing i made a few weeks ago and forgot about, my brother had been showing me too many tiermaker images and i never thought i’d do one but then realised there are many deaths and i have opinions so... 

i tried to include as many different deaths that i know about and could find images of (yes i included ivan ozhogin and kirill gordeev even though they were just concert performances but look i just really like them) 

if you want to do it yourself, the link is in the replies to this post (can’t put it here otherwise once again tumblr blocks the post from showing up in tags) and don’t think you have to use all of them, i just included them all more for the example than anything, but if you only know a few then don’t feel like you have to rank them all. 

obviously this is just my personal opinion, for sure i’m up for talking with people about their favourites, but not for arguing. everyone’s got different tastes, doesn’t make any of us wrong

i couldn’t find a way to show the names of the images so if want to know who everyone is then i’ll put it below here

S: Uwe Kröger (Vienna 1992-1994, Essen 2001-03, Berlin 2008), Kamarás Máté (Miskloc 1999-2001, Vienna 2003-2006, Budapest 2007-2010, Japan Toho 2016)

A: Stanley Burleson (Netherlands 1999 2017 2018),  Mester Tamás (Szeged 1996),  Szabó P. Szilveszter (Szeged 1996, Budapest 1996-2005, Budapest 2007-2010), Ichiro Maki (Japan Takarazuka 1996), Mizu Natsuki (Japan Takarazuka 2007), Leo/Jung Taek-woon (South Korea 2018-2019)

B: Oliver Arno (Berlin 2008, Antwerp 2009, Germany Tour 2010-2011, Vienna 2012-2014), Martin Markert (Germany Tour 2015), Jesper Tydén (Essen 2001-2003), Kirill Gordeev (Russia 2015 2017), Ivan Ozhogin (Russia 2014), Ayaki Nao (Japan Takarazuka 2005), Sena Jun (Japan Takarazuka 2009), Haruno Sumire (Japan Takarazuka 2002-2003), Shirota Yu (Japan Toho 2010 2015 2016) Xia/Kim Junsu (South Korea 2012-2013 2018-2019)

C: Felix Martin (Vienna 1994-1998, Berlin 2008), Thomas Borchert (Vienna 1993-1994, Addo Kruizinga (Vienna 1995, Netherlands 1999), Olegg Vynnyk (Stuttgart 2005-2006), Homonnay Zsolt (Budapest 2007-2010), Shizuki Asato (Japan Takarazuka 1998-1999), Asaji Saki (Japan Takarazuka 1996), Asumi Rio (Japan Takarazuka 2014), Yamaguchi Yuichiro (Japan Toho 2000-2001 2004 2010), Inoue Yoshio (Japan Takarazuka 2016-2019), Seven/Choi Dong Wook (South Korea 2015)

D: Johan Samuelsson (Essen 2001-2003), Steven Seale (Vienna 2004), Christoph Goetten (Thun 2006), Asaka Manato (Japan Takarazuka 2016), Tamaki Ryou (Japan Takarazuka 2018), Tomu Ranju (Japan Takarazuka 2002-2003), Uchino Masaaki (Japan Toho 2000-2001 2004), Furukawa Yuta (Japan Takarazuka 2018-2019), Park Hyo-Shin (South Korea, 2013)

E: Patrik Martinsson (Sweden 1999), Rob Fowler (Vienna, 2003), Martin Pasching (Essen 2002, Japan Toho 2007, Berlin 2008, Germany Tour 2011), Paul Kribbe (Vienna 1996), Dolhai Attila (Budapest 2009)

F: Mark Seibert (Germany Tour 2011-2012, Vienna 2012-2014, Germany Tour 2015, Vienna 2019 2021)

[miafic]

A p&p kid is having violent intrusive thoughts? He'd never ever act on them but they're scaring him and making him feel like he's a monster. Idk if that's too dark, you don't have to do it.

let’s meet the kid who’s obsessed with death. i finally named him just for you, anon, so thank you for that little indirect push haha 

Grab the knife and slit your throat. 

Knox blinked in surprise. He swallowed and then reached down to mess with one of the patches on his black jacket. THE ACACIA STRAIN, it read in bold letters, and the corner was coming off. He wouldn’t be allowed to sew it here because no one would give him a needle. He wondered what he’d do if he had a needle. 

Three more thoughts flickered through his mind, each more violent than the last. He kept rubbing his fingers over the lifted edge of the patch until his breathing calmed. 

He’d been doing this stupid thing for the last couple of days... This stupid thing where everything would be totally normal and then he’d think, I should grab that pot of boiling water off the stove and pour it all over Zakk’s legs. It was markedly different, at least in Knox’s eyes, than the way he’d calmly replied, “You’ll die alone someday,” to the guy at bible study who’d come up to him and excitedly asked if he liked a band called Attila. That was just to freak the kid out. This, on the other hand, was freaking Knox out. 

He actually liked the metal bands whose logos he wore on his clothes, and he knew he had some ideas about death and the afterlife that were pretty... unconventional, but he was never an aggressive person. 

Maybe the aggression had just been waiting until the right time to come out. 

“Hey, what does it sound like to hear voices in your head?” Knox blurted. 

The next twenty minutes were spent sighing dramatically as he spoke to Lucas in the office. When Lucas finally decided that he wasn’t exhibiting any signs of schizophrenia, Knox was set free, but inside, he felt more confused than he had been when he asked. If they weren’t voices, what were they? And why were they so strong? Just for a few seconds, but still. 

I could open the door while my roommate’s in the shower and strangle him, he’d whispered to himself last night. 

And then there was the one he’d had on Sunday: It would be easy to twist Jon’s neck and break it. I could go up behind him and do it, and no one would even know. Not even Jon. 

Right now, he’d just had the one about killing himself with the knife on the counter. What the fuck was going on? Was he... turning evil or something? 

“Hey, Knox, you okay, man?” Zakk asked, interrupting his thoughts.  

“Yeah, you look constipated,” his roommate chimed in.

Knox rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses and walked out of the room. 

[dreamimes]

Pass the happy! 💌 When you get, this reply with 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 more people! Get sending 🍃

THIS ASK WAS THE ONE THAT HAD ME BE ABLE TO SEE PREVIOUS ASKS AS WELL HOLY SHIT!!!! now lemme list

5.  Sleeping <3 This sounds too 2014 humor and I hate it but I reach my maximum level of happiness each time I get under the covers aaa

4. I was gifted signed poetry from Attila İlhan and holy fucking shit i’m so in love

3. I got myself sushi the other day which was pretty pog

2. The entire tunalı street and its adjacents in Ankara!! Especially the Şinasi stage and a second-hand bookstore I genuinely miss going to :(

1. @elirluna my beloved!! You always give me the positive brain chemical that makes me go <3333 :’) I love you sm and I’m so very glad I have you in my life 

[stars-trash-18]

Home lll

Ngl this was kind of a filler chapter. but it’s what I got, if anything this will give you more background on reader and the planet’s history.

Again please message me about corrections about anything, especially if I use anything gendered or with racial descriptions. 

You did as promised, you delivered some crops and spare farming supplies. After that you turned your focus back home. You went about as normal, getting Attila to school, smoking meats, tanning hides, and prepping everything else for the monthly market. The town several miles from your ranch had a weekly market for smaller sales, but once a month they had a large fair to sell bulk items for better prices. It helped keep some income during the weeks coming in and when the fair happened it brought in tourists or larger buyers to bring in the bulk income for many of the families, including yours.

 Over the years you had gained the reputation of being one of the better ranchers to buy livestock off of. You cared for them like they were your own children and made sure that everyone walked away with a decent price, whether or not you gained a profit or broke even. 

Because of this the fair became one of the only markets you showed up to, you'd bring your products and had the city wives falling over themselves for the leather and furs, the galactic ranchers trying to outbid each other for whatever prized bull you brought with you, and the smaller families happy when you turned the wealthier business to them. Because, although you had a wider range of product than most other farmers, you made sure to make a sly comment about others like, "The Ferdorick's leather products are some of the finest, if you decide to buy from me i'm sure they'd make this hide into a wonderful jacket,". 

Something you valued so much more than the core worlds was the community that surrounded the outer rim planet, in planets like Coruscant people walked by the needy everyday. But here if someone needed shelter or something to eat the locals would give it to them, whether they were one meal away from the same fate or not, they still extended a hand and gave what they could. They did it for you when you ran, when you first landed with Attila balanced on your shoulders wondering what to do it was the Ganoris' who set you up in their spare bedroom, the Ferdoricks who taught you how to tan hides and gave you your first 5 head of cattle, and the Actorias who gathered the materials and taught you how to build and thatch. You were a stranger who was more dangerous than they knew, but they extended their hands to you and you work so that you can prosper and help them too. So when the Armorer landed on your doorstep you wondered if it would be wrong to turn her away, because you were tired of seeing people.

You enjoyed chatting with those you knew, but seeing so many strangers more than once a month made your social batteries drain. But you reluctantly invited her in and sat across from her at your table as you went about preparing the morning coffee. Already preparing yourself for the long day ahead. She sat regaly for someone who was so weary weeks prior, she reminded you of the tall bamboo stalks from your ex’s estate with how she could go from being bent with stress to tall and strong. She only watched you carefully as you moved around your small kitchen and rested a hand onto the table, only moving it to say no when you offered her a mug. 

“How can I help you today, is everything alright?” you inquired carefully, blowing the steam away to cool the sweet nectar of the gods. 

“Everything is alright in our new home, it’s been a long time since we’ve been able to call anything that,” she receded, her voice filled with warmth at her family’s good fortune before she continued.

“I’m here to ask if you would be willing to help us again, we’d like to gain some income but don’t know how we’d be received by the community and we’d prefer to stay as hidden as possible,” she breathed a heavy sigh when she finished. You blinked at her owlishly for a moment before giving her a calming smile and leaned back in your chair.

“I’d be glad to help, from what little I know of Mandalorian culture your people are famous for their care of those they consider family and it’s the same here,” You paused to sip your coffee before further explaining, “ There’s a story that the natives tell, the natives that have been here long before space exploration, that this planet was steeped in war but over time as the war dragged on the blood spilled by the fallen started to poison it, causing more to die from starvation than battle itself,”

“They came to the agreement that to preserve themselves they had to merge, it took many years but finally there was peace and balance, they shared their knowledge with each other and valued cooperation and helping others and that has remained the same since, they are wary of outsiders but would still help them at any cost, because with all the bad in this galaxy they hope to heal it one person at a time,” you finished before pausing again in thought, “But don’t mistake the peace for weakness mandalorian, the people of this planet will still fight if it’s the last thing to do, because though they prefer peace if you threaten their homes and family they fight like you wouldn’t believe, now onto the business at hand,” you chimed as you pulled your datapad in front of you.

“That was insightful, all the same. We'd like it if one of our own accompanies you to the market so you can show them how this planet works,” She replied thoughtfully, tapping her fingertips onto the table briefly in thought. “We understand that there are a few threats to you at the monthly fair but Paz has volunteered to accompany you to help carry your goods and some of ours with the added benefit of protection, from what i’m told you’re more than capable but at this moment it is the only labor we can provide,” she clarified. “ We'll give you a percentage of our sales since by extension we’re using your reputation to do so and to compensate for you teaching Paz the ropes, because what he learns with you he’ll bring to us,” she further revealed.

You huffed a laugh before waving your hand at her, “nonsense, here knowledge is free and openly shared, I’ll send you the coordinates for the public libraries and can have Attila look out for your children if you ever decide to put them into the school, besides you have more mouths to feed than I do and I could frankly use an extra set of hands at the market so this will go towards you’re payment for the land,” you receded. The armorer jolted for a moment at your news, her breathing seeming to stutter for a moment before she straightened further.

“Very well I accept the terms, I must ask however why you show us such hospitality,” she prodded, you understood what she really meant. She was trying to find any ulterior motive, and you could see why with how the mandalorians have been treated throughout their history. So you only thought for a moment before answering her, setting your mug down and looking to the floor to try and keep the memories at bay.

“I was running from someone who wanted me dead and to take my son, I was an intelligence officer for the resistance during the war so I knew that this planet would be the safest and furthest away, when I got here all I had was a small bag with necessities and little Attila slung over my shoulders,” You breathed in heavily to try and build a wall around the memories that flashed into your mind, trying not to get thrown into an episode, “I had nothing, but the people here took care of us, they helped me and as the saying goes taught  me to fish,” you smiled softly at the memory of the elderly patriarch of the Actorias lecturing you.

“So to repay them for their kindness is to pass it forward and no one is more deserving than the Mandalorians, you guys were really screwed over by history,” you finished with a slight chuckle and turning back to the mandalorian matriarch, who sat rigidly. She rose from her seat at the table and placed her arm over her chest and bowed slightly.

“That was all I needed so I’ll take my leave, but know that you have a clan of mandalorians in your debt, those who threaten you threaten us,” she said like a vow before she swiftly turned and walked out of your home. Using the jetpack you didn’t even notice light up as she took off back towards the bunker. 

~~~~POV switch to earlier that week~~~~~~

“Paz you don’t have to be the one to accompany the rancher, we can send one of our more experienced merchants to better learn the trade,” The Armourer explained with a hand to the front of her helmet in exasperation.

“I know, but if you send me it’ll be better to gauge how the people would react to us, I can also provide security,” He stressed, adamant about being the one sent to learn.

“From what you told me they are their own security, you just find them attractive,” Din teased his brother playfully, earning an elbow to the side gap in his armor from Paz and a groan from the Armourer.

“Enough you two, Paz if you’re so enthralled with the rancher I’ll grant your request now both of you out,” she reprimanded before waving her tongs at them in dismissal so she wouldn’t have to deal with their childishness.

As they left Din passed his brother with one last jab, “try to learn a little Verde”.

[budapestbug]

Located on the steps of Hungarian Parliament House, sits (literally), a bronze statue,(larger than life), of the famous Hungarian poet, Attila Jozsef, (1905-1937), the sculptor has captured his emotions as looking the Danube river. ACtaully this poem is one of the most famous of the poet who met with a tragical end, and started to be celebrated only after his death. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attila_J%C3%B3zsef By the Danube 1 On the bottom step that from the wharf descends I sat, and watched a melon-rind float by. I hardly heard, wrapped in my destined ends, To surface chat the silent depth reply. As if it flowed from my own heart in spate, Wise was the Danube, turbulent and great. Like a man’s muscles bending at his toil, Hammering, pitching, leaning on the spade, So bulged and then contracted in recoil Each wave that rippling in the current played. It rocked me like my mother, told me a wealth Of tales, and washed out all the city’s filth. And drops of rain began to fall, but then, As though their fall had no effect, they stopped. Yet still, like one who stayed at the long rain Out of a cave, my gaze I never dropped Below the horizon. Endlessly to waste, Drably like rain fell all bright things, the past. The Danube just flowed on. And playfully The ripples laughed at me as I reclined, A child on his prolific mother’s knee Resting, while other thoughts engaged her mind. They trembled in time’s flow and in its wake As tottering tombstones in a graveyard shake. 2. I am he who has gazed a hundred thousand years On that which he now sees for the first time. One moment, and fulfilled all time appears In a hundred thousand forbears’ eyes and mine. I see what they could not because they must Drag hoes, kill and embrace, for this enrolled, And they, who have descended into dust See what I do not, if the truth be told. We know each other as sorrow and delight. I, in the past, they in the present live. They hold the pencil in the poem I write. I feel them and evoke what they now give. 3. My mother was Cumanian, and half Szekler My father half Rumanian or entire. The nurture from my mother’s mouth was nectar And from my father’s lips the truth was pure. When I stir, they embrace. Then, soon or late, This makes me sad. This is mortality. Of this I am made. Such words as these: Just wait Until we are no more - they speak to me. They speak to me, for not I am they, robust Despite whatever weakness made me frail, And I think back that I am more than most: Each ancestor am I, to the first cell. I am the Forbear split and multiplied To make my father and my mother whole; My father and mother then in turn divide, and so I am made one, a single soul. I am the world; all that is past exists; Where nations hurl themselves against each other, With me in death the conqueror’s victory lasts, In me the anguish gnaws of those they smother. Árpád, Zalán, Werbőczy, Dózsa, Turks, Tartars, Rumanians, Slovaks, storm this heart. If in great depths a quiet future lurks, It owes the past, to-day’s Hungarians, part. I want to work. Enough of conflict goes Into that need which must confess the past. The Danube’s tender ripples which compose Past, present, future, hold each other fast. The battle which our ancestors once fought Through recollection is resolved in peace, And settling at long last the price of thought, This is our task, and none too short its lease.