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Bridget, Bright Goddess of the Gael Talon Abraxas
Brigid was a goddess of the Tuatha Dé Danann. She was a daughter of the chief of the gods, The Dagda, and was known as a goddess of healers, poets, smiths, childbirth and inspiration. Her name means "exalted one". This article by Branfionn NicGrioghair explores the story of Brigid and the later Christian Saint, St. Brigid, who is still honoured to this day, especially in Faughart, her birthplace, and Kildare, where she founded a monastery.
Brigid is the Daughter of the Dagda, one of the more universal deities of the pagan Gaelic world. She is known as the Goddess of Healers, Poets, Smiths, Childbirth and Inspiration; Goddess of Fire and Hearth and a patron of warfare or Briga. Her soldiers were called Brigands. Her name means "Exalted One." She is also known as Brigantia, Brid, Bride, Briginda, Brigdu, and Brigit. She is said to lean over every cradle. The lore and customs have continued to this day regarding Brighid, more vividly than all the other Gaelic deities combined.
In the middle ages, Brigid is in many stories. In one she is the wife of Bres, the half-Fomorian ruler of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Their son, Ruadan, wounded the smith god Giobhniu at the second battle of Magh Tuireadh but he himself was slain in the combat. Brigid then went to the battlefield to mourn her son. This was said to be the first caoine (keening), or lament, heard in Ireland. Until recent time, it was a tradition to hire women to caoine at every graveside. In another story, Brighid was the wife of Tuireann and had three sons: Brian, Iuchar and Ircharba. In the tale, The Sons of Tuirean, these three killed the god Cian, father of Lugh Lámhfhada when he was in the form of a pig.
She was transformed by the Church of St. Brigid into St. Brigid about 453 C.E. Saint Brighid is known as the patroness of farm work and cattle, and protector of the household from fire and calamity. To this day, one of her most common names in Gaelic is Muime Chriosd, "Foster-Mother of Christ." St. Brigid was said to be the daughter of Dubthach, a Druid who brought her from Ireland to be raised on the Isle of Iona, sometimes called "The Druid's Isle." -By Branfionn NicGrioghair
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Hello, I'm developing an enrichment guide for small animals in my shelter and your blog was very helpful with grimace scales, I was wondering if you had found any more for animals like reptiles, birds, and hedgehogs?
I'm afraid not, but I can go through the rescue folder to show some expressions of discomfort and unwellness.
We'll use Ankhou (May he rest in peace) as our baseline for a comfortable, healthy pigeon.
Like most birds, pigeon eyes are nearly frozen in their sockets.
They have neither whiskers, lips, nor external ears to grimace with.
So their expressions are mostly in the position of their heads, necks, and tails, and which groupings of feathers are raised or flattened.
This is an expression of supreme comfort.
Just a little squinty. Forehead and neck feathers fluffed up.
Everything else smooth and relaxed.
This was Passenger's arrival photo. (Some of you may have remembered her having been in the news.)
Note the curve of her neck, the low dip of her tail, sunken eyes and thin, drawn beak.
The half lidded eyes are an extreme expression of pained exhaustion.
Pigeons, even when hurt, are hypervigilant, and will be wide eyed more often than not.
She is extremely dehydrated and malnourished in this photo, barely able to stand.
Look at the difference, post recovery.
Especially at her stance (keenly alert), eyes (bright and clear), and beak (much more fleshed out).
In her case, the sunken eyes and thin beak in particular warned that she was extremely dehydrated.
Archie, on arrival, is scared and in pain, having suffered a broken wing from a vehicle strike.
Note the ruffled throat and tightly tucked head.
Same young bird, having healed.
Bridget, on arrival, had a broken wing and leg on the same side. (Also a vehicle strike.)
A little older than Archie, keenly interested in the food in front of her, and absolutely ravenous, but you still see the neck folded and head tucked.
This was when she first started putting weight on her healing foot.
She's terrified of me: note the huge pupils and ruffling of her shield feathers.
She's threatening to box me with her broken wing.
Note the almost angular ruffling of her neck feathers and how far between her shoulders her little head is tucked.
That defensive posture hurts.
Here she is, still terrified of me, but now fully healed.
Look how her head is positioned.
Yes, this is still Bridget.
She does have a neck! XD
In the loft, she's curious. Still scared of me, but I am more familiar than the flock of strange pigeons.
She's trying to figure out what perch to aim for.
Pete suffered a cat bite to the wrist of the wing facing the camera and an injury to his eyelid.
It's in a bad spot, right between the joints, and the inflammation response is so intensely painful that she can't flex her little wing.
Notice the tightly tucked head, ruffled throat, and over all hunched appearance.
Here, she is no longer in any pain; just scared.
Being in the pigeon hospital is terrifying for ferals.
It's bad enough being confined to a tiny cage, but vaccines, worming, weekly louse dips, and in this case daily antibiotics are an absolute hell of an introduction to living in human care!
Pete just has a very long skinny neck and tiny head with a fine featured face.
But, fully healed, despite the god awful molt, you can see the difference in her posture and even the wideness of her eyes.
Pierce was an extremely lucky hawk strike survivor.
It's a minor miracle that no vital organs were damaged!
But there is the extreme pain hunch in a bird whose injuries are fresh.
Note the set of the head between the shoulders, forward lean, and ruffling at the throat with feathers flattened very tightly otherwise.
This is the same bird, after all three talon holes healed.
Licorice was an interesting case!
Tied by zip tie and string to a steak in the ground for dog bait and suffering a teratoma in her breast muscle.
This is defensive posture.
She is not injured or in any pain, but she is scared, and looking for an opportunity to escape the carrier.
The teratoma (A bizarre tumor made of, in her case, random feather material in a keratin capsule) has no nerves, and her skin formed a neat little pocket around it.
Here she is after the teratoma was removed.
Not by any stretch thrilled to have me so close for pictures, but bright eyes and alert, confident I am not going to attack her.
Orion was a sad malnourished mess.
Note the lack of tail feathers, the baldness of his face, skinny toes, and shrunken beak.
Once again, head sunk down between his hunched shoulders, neck folded under it in a tight S curve that pushes the throat feathers out.
Very slight squint to eyes that would be wide with alarm were he not just exhausted from his state of starvation.
Poor little vulture child!
He's very excited for food in this photo, but since you can see his skin so well, look how much less pinched it is around the base of his beak now that he is no longer suffering severe dehydration.
Coal had the very good fortune to come in healthy and old enough to self feed.
He was just separated from his flock weeks before he'd have been able to fly.
He isn't in pain or ill.
Being dipped and wormed sucked!
So coal is NOT happy to see me a week after that last photo!
But note that his shoulders are not hunched.
While his neck is folded and his head is low, it isn't sunk down in between his shoulders.
The nape of his neck is fluffed up.
This is defensive threat posture.
He's scared, but warning me that he'll box and bite me if I get any closer.
Coal has been here a few weeks at this point.
He's not happy to see me. Dips and meds still suck.
But they don't hurt, and I get them done with pretty quick.
So he's nervous on this photo.
He's not looking forward to what ever I am about to have to do, but it's sunk in that he's not going to die or be injured.
Bug free and ready for adoption, Coal was not happy about having his pigeon business interrupted for a photo, but he's only mildly annoyed, not nervous or overtly afraid.
Now, let's look at the second most commonly rescued breed: Racing homers.
This is Grayson: Who was found crashed out hungry in 2016.
This bird failed a race.
Because they were bred to be wartime messengers, and their messages were of absolutely vital importance, the impulse to stop mid return flight to forage has been bred out of Racing Homers.
When released away from their loft, they only stop when they get home, or if it's gotten too dark to fly.
Once the food in their crop runs out (usually something extremely fatty like peanuts, for the highest possible density of fuel), their body starts digesting their muscle.
The flight muscles of a pigeon are roughly 1/4 of their overall weight.
Once they lose enough of that, they can't get off the ground anymore.
It takes about three days of non stop flight for this to happen, and a good two to four solid weeks of rebuilding condition before they can physically fly again.
Note Greyson's hunch and drooping tail, but the keen alertness in his eyes compared to the ferals.
He is not injured or sick.
He is suffering exclusively from the rapid muscle atrophy unique to racing homers who have failed a race or training toss.
This is the same bird, post recovery.
Just doesn't like being asked to pose.
Meat much more evenly surrounds his keel, and his wings no longer look to be too big for him.
Look at the way his cere has filled out compared to the previous photo.
Mark most likely got lost on a training flight.
You can tell by his poorly developed cere that this is a very young bird; not quite sexually mature.
Note the weird, flat angle of the chest and downward tilt of the head.
He trapped into a chicken coop in desperation to escape a bad storm, and unfortunately picked up worms from the chickens, and giardia likely from dirty puddle water.
This photo was taken just a little before he became severely symptomatic, while he was still able to hide being sick.
He almost died from the giardia.
He was so exhausted and dehydrated from constant diarrhea by which his body tried to expel the protozoan parasite that he didn't have energy to eat and had to be force fed several small meals a day for a few weeks until he had the strength to feed himself.
Here he is the last week of quarantine, anxious about being handled for his update photo, but no longer sick.
And here he is fully recovered and showing off his very full crop, but having the worst molt!
I hope this meander through a small percentage of my rescue folder has been enough to help you see the pattern.
It's more in the overall posture than the facial expression, as pigeons largely lack the facial muscles and features that give mammals such expressive faces.
Look for a head sunken between hunched shoulders and a drooping tail.
The more hunchy the bird, the tighter tucked head, and the further the tail droops, the more severe the discomfort.
A dramatically bobbing tail signifies a struggle breathing, the causes of which can range from anxiety to pain to physical obstruction of the air ways.
Partly lidded, sunken eyes and a shrunken beak along with a slight wobble or tremor should signify an emergency; severe dehydration.
The extremely drab, brown tinged feathers that Orion displays are a symptom of nestling malnutrition.
Most likely, his mother was malnourished when she laid the egg, and his parents could not find enough food to support the rapid growth of a baby pigeon.
Ankhou came in years later from the same area; the parking lot of a strip mall where feral pigeons are trapped and eradicated.
He's four or five weeks old in this photo, by the length of his flights, which were the only feathers he had, because his body did not get enough to grow both bones and feathers.
It took him six months to feather out fully.
And almost a year to molt into his full adult plumage.
Well, that went a little off topic. >.<
But I hope it helped.
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Freeborn
March 20th, 3050 Anywhere Asteroid “Paydirt” in orbit around “The Big One” (Gas giant located in Anywhere System) Mulligan Mining Group Asteroid Colony
Star Commander Bridget Hazen guided her Summoner out of the drop ship along with the four other members of her Star. She smiled in the cockpit of her mech. Finally, she was given a target to capture.
Finally, she could prove herself worthy not only of command, but of her blood name.
Her smile became a frown. It had not be easy by any measure, getting to where she was now.
She was, after all, Freeborn, and as such, was seen as, lesser, within her Clan.
She would show them. She had fought every step of the way, pushing herself harder, farther, more effectively than the other members of her sibko. She clawed every scrap of honor and respect that she could from those around her, culminating not only in her rank of Star Commander, but in gaining her bloodname. And not just any blood name, but the bloodname in her mind.
Hazen.
Many had scoffed at her even attempting it. She was freeborn, after all.
But, were the founders not Freeborn? Was Elizabeth Hazen not born of a man and a woman and not an iron womb? Was The Great Kerensky himself not born as she herself was? She ignored the scoffers.
Still others had challenged her to prevent her from even trying. She had beaten them all. One after the other she had outfought, outthought and outlasted those who would prevent her from claiming it. She would do the same, to anyone that got in her way. That included any other Clan that challenged Jade Falcon to their rightful place as ilClan. Her frown deepened, as she remembered the narrow victory they had achieved over Clan Wolf in their Trial of Refusal over beginning Operation REVIVAL. Disgraceful.
Operation REVIVAL was her chance, finally, to show she was worth her blood name. To prove once and for all that she was worthy of standing side by side with her peers, those Trueborn warriors who have so far sneered and dismissed her as…
Freebirth.
She shook her head, short black hair tied back into a tight ponytail to keep it from her eyes the color of jade. No more distractions, it was time to claim her first victory. The mining asteroid would not have been her first choice of target, but she did as she was commanded. It would be the first step to ultimate victory.
Her sensors indicated that the opposing force, four battlemechs, mercenary scum no less, all this little rock could muster against them. They had, she had to admit, at least had the honor to accept their formal batchall.
Bridget thought back to the communication earlier.
She stood on the bridge. They had just arrived into orbit over the asteroid. Bridget waited as the comms officer opened a channel with the Spheroid colony. She cleared her throat, squared her chest, and spoke.
“I am Star Commander Bridget Hazen, commander of the Raptor Claws of Clan Jade Falcon. I bring with me one Star of Clan Jade Falcon’s finest warriors and a Broadsword dropship. I seek to claim this mining colony and all resources to be found upon this asteroid. What forces dare defend this world from the steel talons of the Jade Falcon?”
Her chest swelled with pride. She had spoken perfectly. Now she just had to-
“This is Commander Owen, Barghest Company. We will defend this colony with one full lance of battlemechs, and a Leopard dropship. We choose to meet you at the following coordinates, 48.73, 6.23. If victorious we will claim all Jade Falcon equipment, including personnel. Do you agree to these terms, Star Commander Hazen?”
She was momentarily wrong footed. Was this Spheroid actually following the proper protocol for a formal batchall? She weighed the options in her mind. The colony produced, according to her intel, materials essential to the production of fusion engines. An important resource for the production of more battle and omnimechs. One star and dropship against the resources gained by capturing the facility��
“Aff, Commander. Well bargained and done.” She replied.
“Well bargained and done. See you on the field, Star Commander.”
She had heard on the chatter web that there were Spheroids that only claimed to accept, before labeling themselves as dezgra by going back on their word. She wondered if this “Owen” would do likewise, or if he would be a man of his word. It mattered little. She would win. Perhaps, if he impressed her, she would claim her first bondsman.
She returned to the here and now. She had glory to take in battle. For her Clan, her Khan, her Galaxy, her Star Colonel.
For herself.
“All units, form up on me. Let us show these Spheroids the proper way to wage war.”
“Aff, Star Commander!” four voices called in unison.
—
Bridget triggered the LB 10-X Autocannon, sending another canister shot at the enemy Marauder. The pilot of the Marauder with the grinning shark mouth and eyes juked to the left, using its jump jets and the relatively low gravity to move like a mech half its weight, letting easily half of the shot miss, the other half ablating armor on the right arm and shoulder. The Marauder responded with a Gauss Rifle shot, which gouged a furrow in her left torso armor. This Owen was good. Very good. She hated to admit it, as she launched a volley of Clan LRMs at him, forcing him to duck around a large outcropping of asteroid to avoid the, but he was perhaps one of the best she had faced.
She glanced at her wireframe, fighting back the feeling of worry as she saw the amount of orange and red on her 'mech. She had not been pushed this hard since she had tested for her bloodname.
Triggering her own jets, she sought to gain the higher ground on the outcrop, and fire upon him from above. She had to finish this quickly, two of her star were already down, and one of the other two was heavily damaged, a Nova, engaging a Black Knight and Wolfhound amongst the craters and rocky crags. The other, another Summoner, was relatively undamaged, and had finished running down a Phoenix Hawk.
Bridget returned her attention to the battle at hand. Her warriors would have to fend for themselves until she was-
The twin ER PPC blasts hit her side torso, the one damaged by the Gauss round earlier, her wireframe flashing from red to nothing. Then the Gauss shot came, having been fired simultaneously to the PPC’s impacting. The slug punched through into the Summoner’s inner structure, piercing engine and gyro before lodging fast in the inside of the opposite side armor.
She fell.
Her last sight before she hit the surface and blacked out was the damaged Marauder watching her fall.
—
She awoke slowly. She was…in a medbay, it looked like. Her body ached like she had gotten into a fistfight with an Elemental.
“Morning. Or, afternoon, hard to tell on this rock.” came a voice across the room.
She groaned, and sat up, head swimming.
“Where…” she began to ask, then she saw it.
The cord around her wrist.
“Neg…this is…”
“That, is a bond cord. You, Star Commander Bridget Hazen. Are now, my bondsman.” The owner of the voice, a scruffy looking man in a long coat with a far too large pistol on his waist was sitting on a chair, causal as can be.
“Needless to say, you lost.”
Bridget sagged. She couldn’t help it. She had failed. Not only her Galaxy Commander but her Khan, and even her Clan. She couldn’t even commit bondsref without losing what little honor she had left at this point. A bondsman, to a Spheroid no less.
“…”
“The rest of your star, the ones that survived, have also been claimed as Bondsmen.”
“..why?”
“Hm?” the man asked, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.
“Why have you claimed me and mine as isorla? We failed.”
And I am but a freebirth…
“Ah…I see…” the man said, leaning back as if in deep thought.
The silence stretched for several seconds.
“…because,” Owen McEvedy said, “Because I need pilots like you. You’re good. Damn good. Better than a Star Commander of just a Star of battlemechs. And like I said, I need people like you, with your skills.”
She had to admit, it caught her off guard. She momentarily forget herself, and let slip another question.
“Why?”
Owen was quiet for another few seconds.
“Because I…” he said, “…am going to hunt some Wolves.”
Bridget Hazen let herself smile slightly.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all…
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Hello and Welcome to 'I share the silly entrance animations for my silly wrestler characters and encourage you to make assumptions about them as people based purely on these videos' where exactly that and @randomfrog2 encouraged me to so here you all go. Links will be filled over time, I couldn't record or upload them all in one go.
Under the cut because between 2k22 and 2k23 there Will eventually be 200 of them total
Abatai 'Abby' Xiao
Ace Dominguez
Adalia Mitchell/Adalia Undead
Adam Cooke/Adam Frankenstein
Adelaide Anderson
Adriel Duffy
Aidan Seeds
Aiko Yamamoto
Aisling Miller
Alan Burgess/The Necromancer
Alexis Thurston
Alfie Winchester
Alfonse 'Avalanche' Boucher
Alfonso Price/Alpha Ali
Alicia Tigner
Alyssa Evans
Amos Wellworth/The Purple Pig
Andy Poux/Andy Scathe
Angelina Manhardt
Archie Robinson/Archie Eagle
Ash Daugherty/The Rubber Chicken Man
Aster Chadha/The Spider
Audriana Parrakkal/The Phantom
Augustus de Blaauw
Aura Hilton
Austin Kirwan/Austin England
Ayanna Mariani
Bartholomew Reeves
Beatrice Lipe
Bertie Bronner
Betsy-Ann Sol
Blaire Wilcox
Brea Orko
Brook Edghort/Captain Brook Edghort
Bruno 'The Felon' Fraser
Bryant 'The Harpy' Tremblay
Caius Pabon
Carlene Skrzypczynski
Cheryl Vogel
Clemence Maurer
Clifford Gilbert
Colin Almarez/Mint Man Almarez
Colt Smiley
Constance Cole
Cooper Carnocan/The Janitor
Damien Kudlinski
Darin Ahmed
Davina Finister
Demetrius Kappotis
Dempsey Blair
Deodatus Bisnett
Dewey Roll/Cottonmouth
Dick Dexter/Dickhead Dexter
Dmitri Pavlov/Glowmaster
Donald Ripa/Queen Ripa
Dympna Lammchen
Edd Woods
Elina Baene/Swamp Witch Elina
Elton Maldonado
Elvira Leithead/Elvira Flash
Elwood McLaren
Elysia Brunner
Emerald Ashley
Erica Shooter/Naughty Nurse Shooter
Ernesto Curry
Evan Stewart/Evan Galaxium
Everly Leigh
Ezio Fahim
Fae Nicholas
Fia Matthews/The Jester
Floyd Gossard/Heartstopper Gossard
Ford Gossard/Showstopper Gossard
Gayle Mokriy
Genevieve Lee/Snake Princess
Gerard Apple
Ginnie Davey
Greg McCarthy/Superstar Greg McCarthy
Guadalupe Batchelor
Harith Rammurthy/Talon Rammurthy
Harry Moore/Machine Gun Harold
Hettie McCormack/Pookie Bunny
Ianthe Jennings/Ianthe Plague
Ilene Fanshaw
Indiana Stone
Indigo Wilson
Indira Doxtator
Isabel Abbeglen
Ishaan Prabhu
Ivo Carrico/Portuguese Man O' War
Jacques Smith
Jak McNicholas
Javon George/The Pimp Javon
Jeana Quinn
Jebediah Oprea
Jeremy Cruz
Jimmie Hutton
Jock Kelly
Joey Duvall/Joey D
Jonas Gabriel/Fox Gabriel
Jordan Barr
Kaden Dunlap
Kailey Samuels
Kanon Ozawa
Kaori Flores
Karter John
Kasumi Wellard
Katrina Giraud
Kehlani Who
Kelby Kadeer/King Kelby
Kenneth Christmas/Fly Boy Kenny
Kimberley Wainwright
Kiyomi Roman
Kori Hernandez
Kyra Padhi
Langdon Mass
Lenore Dillard
Liang Tao
Lillia Robertson
Lilly Ansa/Lilith Ansa
Lincoln Swinton
Lionel Connor
Lisa Belrose
Liz Schlachter
Louis Bridget/Big Baby
Lukas Craveiro/Senator Lukas Craveiro
Maddison Toxtle/Toxic Maddi
Maia Smith
Marci Britt
Marcus Gardiner
Margarita Harrison
Mariella Gillet/Iron Kitten
Marina Gonzo
Mavis Payton/The Blushing Bride
Meena Gacitua
Meghan Schreck
Mim McHoney
Mitsuki Ootani/Bon Bon Bunny
Myles Neil/Steamboat Willie
Nancy Sharp
Nelly James
Netty Richardson
Norma 'The Doll' Laskey
Nyx Vanderhoff
Ollie Logan/Witch Doctor Logan
Pancake Spryert
Pam Eisen
Perry 'The Worm' Ticehurst
Princess Warren
Quiana Billings
Quincey Crabb
Reabetswe Okonjo
Reilly Jeppe
Ruby Ankney
Rufus Robby
Rupert English/Rupert Beauty
Sable Bow
Samantha Trapp
Samuel Perryman
Sasha Fedosov/Adorable Aleksander
Shayne Zaveri
Sheridan Lowe/Rosebud Lowe
Sloane Koskic
Sofie Tanner
Sommer Chauhan
Sparrow Martin
Stacey Jacobs/The Metal Mouth Maniac
Stephen Shabnur/Kitty Stephen
Sunny Cockerill
Sven Miller Garrett
Tabitha Valot/T Valentine
Teri Cullen
Ursula Benjamin
Verity Ahmed/Gremlin Ahmed
Victoria Wangdi/Princess Victoria Wang
Vivi Masters
Walter Cauley
Willis 'Turbo Fox' Judd
Xandria Cruz
Yaoting Duan
#wwe 2k22#wwe 2k23#custom character#my ocs#Come make assumptions about my stupid creations here!#First 10 out now#Youtube says that's my daily upload limit#I know absolutely nothing about wrestling beyond these silly characters I made#I've wanted to do this ever since I made Alan's entrance#and thought 'damn this feels like he gets high on the reg'#And just got curious what sort of assumptions other people could pull from these#anyway Alan smoking weed is canon#I accept assumptions in any format
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Amor non quaerit verb
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/AfXJWZo by PaulinaFenko Dick took the relationship with Slade mediocre — it was cool with him, but no more. He knew perfectly well that they meant a lot more to Wilson, but I didn't share it — Grayson is a free bird. The Talon appeared in Bloodhaven unexpectedly. What changes could a chance meeting bring to Dick's so difficult fate? Words: 3479, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: DCU (Comics), DCU, Nightwing (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson, William Cobb (DCU), Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Bridget Clancy, Amy Rohrbach Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, William Cobb/Dick Grayson Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Rape/Non-con Elements, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, not by slade!, Protective Slade Wilson, William Cobb Being an Asshole, William Cobb is not related to Grayson, BvsR version!, What kind of nonsense am I writing, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson is confused about himself, Dick Grayson is Not Okay, Angst with a Happy Ending, English is not my native language, but i'm trying read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/AfXJWZo
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heavy necklace (after Bridget Talone)
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6x6 final issue (#36) release party
On September 8, UDP celebrated the final launch of our long-running poetry magazine, 6x6, at the Knockdown Center in Queens. Poetry was read, music was played, and 6x6 corner confetti was strewn...
Readers:
Anna Gurton-Wachter Anselm Berrigan Bridget Talone Chia-Lun Chang Katy Lederer Kristen Gallagher Sarah Wang Ted Dodson Thibault Raoult Tony Iantosca
Music:
Daniel Carter and Loren Connors Horse Lords Foamola I Feel Tractor Matt Mottel
6x6 #36 features poems by Anselm Berrigan, Chia-Lun Chang, Cheryl Clarke, Lisa Fishman, Vasilisk Gnedov (translated by Emilia Loseva & Danny Winkler), and Sarah Wang.
Our thanks to Kevin Remy for taking these photographs.
#udp#6x6magazine#6x6FinalLaunch#knockdown center#Poetry Reading#anna gurton-wachter#anselm berrigan#bridget talone#chia-lun chang#katy lederer#kristen gallagher#sarah wang#ted dodson#thibault raoult#tony lantosca#daniel carter#loren connors#horse lords#faomola#i feel tractor#matt mottel#cheryl clarke#lisa fishman#vasilisk gnedov#translation#ugly duckling presse#6x6 36#kevin remy
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If you don’t mind, could you tell us the color of everyone's dragon friend? I try to search on Tumblr, but couldn’t find anything. TwT
Ok so I'll answer appearance and overall personality/random facts, too!
Elewen - Arthur's partner. Purple scales, crimson red eyes. Four times Arthur's height (Arthur is average height). Sweet, coy, surprisingly fierce when it comes to protecting Arthur. Favorite season is spring. Loves long flights and being in nature.
Melker - Lancelot's partner. Black scales, dark green eyes, horns. Two times Lancelot's height. Seemingly aloof and imposing but polite once you get talking. A considerate friend. Measured and calculated. Fond of reading.
Bridget - Kay's partner. Bright red scales, brown eyes. Fun loving, a bit reckless. Loves swimming and summer. A bit bigger than a Shire horse.
Ariawen - Gawain's partner. Orange scales, brown eyes. Friendly, playful, enthusiastic, extroverted. Can be too headstrong. Loves painting her talons and dancing. Grown up about the size of a Shire horse.
Callum - Galahad's partner. White scales, blue eyes. Gentle, shy, quiet. Insecure. Fond of painting. Grown up twice Galahad's height.
Felix - Elaine's partner. Blue scales, amber eyes. Loyal. Decisive. Protective. Loves swimming. Loves snow. Just loves being outside. Fond of plays, theater, music. About the size of a Shire horse.
Owen - Isac's friend, his family has long been friends with Isac's family. Calm, composed, brave. Beautiful singing voice. Exasperated by Isac but still loves him. Very good at fire storytelling (part of dragon culture). About the size of a shire horse, a bit bigger.
[Name Undecided] - Agravain’s partner. Black scales, amber eyes. Shy, insecure, but puts up an intimidating front. Twice Agravain’s height.
Claire - Tristan’s partner. Yellow scales, blue eyes. Patient, calm. Loves reading, calm. Can get easily anxious, a bit shy. About the size of a Shire horse.
Otto - Percival’s partner. Appearance: undecided. Twice Percy’s height.
Keri - Bronwyn’s partner. Deep brown scales, purple eyes. Twice Bronwyn’s height.
Agata - Dinadan’s partner. Green scales, black eyes. Twice Dinadan’s height.
Sera - Accolon’s partner. Yellow scales, blue eyes. Optimistic, cheerful, patient, confident. About twice his height.
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Godzilla x reader Rodan x reader Ghidorah x reader Kong x reader
An impatient sigh spilled from your maw as you huddled in the grass; claws digging small ravines in the soil, leaving deep indents. Your tail swayed slowly carefully not to catch his attention; you'd spotted this Kaiju near skull island multiple times now.
It had been months since he first appeared and still he hadn't shown any signs of stopping, so you decided to add him to your diet but that proved to be tricker than expected.
He was a flying Kaiju who rarely came close to the ground, preferring to stay a float in the air, and you couldn't really blame him many Kaiju eat other kaiju and he wasn't exactly on the bigger side.
You would've alerted Kong but he had more important things to handle, besides this wasn't something you couldn't handle.
You'd been studying him; watching carefully and learning his patterns, and what you learned was he liked squid, every now and then he'd circle around dive into the water and pluck out a squid Kaiju.
Which is why you'd asked Bridget to swim closer to the surface, right on cue he began circling, and you prepared to pounce your muscles clenching in anticipation.
As soon as he closed his wings diving for the water you pounced, springing from your hiding spot amongst the foliage, catching his neck in your jaw and dragging him under the surface.
You could feel the panic in his body from your jaws snapping down; and his thrashing legs kicking against your stomach.
You wheezed a little letting go of his neck but sinking your claws into his wing,
pulling his flailing form towards you.
You felt his claws dig into your sides scratching at your scales, which you barely paid heed to as you kept him under the water.
You had a small set of gills imbedded in your neck that way; you could breathe on land or in the water, although you mostly resided on land, with a flap of his wings one of his claws managed to catch your eye and you hissed in pain.
Loosening your grip enough for him to fly out the water; but you quickly refocused sinking your teeth into his shoulder and throwing him on land.
He landed unceremoniously on his side as his wings flapped wildly trying to right himself, but you pounced on his chest using your weight to pin him down.
Although he'd almost thrown you off multiple times now, he was kinda strong for such a average Kaiju, deciding you'd had enough you allowed color to pool into your dorsal plates, and he immediately froze.
That's more like you thought with a snort and a nod of your head, "who are you" you hissed, but his eyes remained glued to your dorsal plates, rolling your eyes you raised a paw flexing your talons.
Getting the gist he swallowed loudly "uh i-im R-Rodan" he said, voice wavering slightly and shifting between his native language and common.
You rolled your tongue over your fangs in thought, how fitting, you think.
"What were you doing here" you asked, tilting your head curiously.
"I wuh uh," he stammered, until you set your claws on his chest, "I-I WAS UH...I was just making a report and getting some lunch".
"Funny you should say that" you hissed voice deepening into a growl, all color drained from his face, and he began thrashing around again desperately.
When your teeth sunk into his shoulder he screeched and stopped thrashing; "WAIT WAIT WAIT, YOUR HUNGRY I-I-I CAN BRING YOU FOOD.. SOMETHING BIGGER MEATIER THAN ME".
You sat back a bit allowing the blood to dribble down your maw; "I'm listening" you responded coldly, seeing you pause he sighed in relief.
"Uh there's.... there's plenty of Kaiju...spider Kaiju, horse Kaiju, crab Kaiju, all bigger and tastier than me, so if you let me go I'll bring one back for you".
You mulled it over for a second before turning to glare back down at him, "and how do I know once I let you up you won't just disappear".
"I am a man of my word and I swear I will bring back something twice my size"; he pleaded, "your not all that big ya know sure you back it up".
"Trust me you'll eat good" he said with a hint of pride, "alright" you hummed letting him slightly, a look of relief crossed his face as he sat up "but if you don't return just know I have your scent and I'll hunt you down and eat you alive".
And just like that fear settled right back into his eyes, he took off with a single beat of his wings and you watched, until he was nothing more than a tiny spec.
Satisfied you stood up walking back to your den laying down for a quick nap; ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gojira had been enjoying a long needed nap when he was suddenly woken; a low growl rumbled within his throat as he pried open an eye.
The sound of shuffling feet drew him into alertness and he let out a long sigh, slowly stretching out his limbs and shaking them out.
His tail lazily swished behind him as he stood up, padding over to where he knew he saw two familiar figures.
"Ah Gojira!" called out the crab Kaiju as Rodan pinned him down, his voice sounded panicked, but anyone would be panicked if they were being attacked.
"RODAN WHAY THE HELL I'M TRYING TO SLEEP", he hissed glaring at the pteranodon Kaiju who looked pretty battered.
Roderan backed away from Gojira looking sheepish "sorry Gojira, it's just I promised this sexy female well... whatever you are that I'd bring her back something else twice my size and tastier...and who doesn't love crab".
Gojira blinked rapidly as he tried to make sense of the words; "what" he finally managed,with an intentional glare Rodan chuckled awkwardly.
"Well; while I was doing the morning report for you today, I stopped to have some lunch when this beautiful female,...uh you stopped me, and she was like I'm going to eat you. And I was like but maybe don't though; so then she said ight but like I'm hungry, so I said".
Growing irritated Gojira grabbed him by the peak; "summarize immediately", Rodan nodded, and Gojira let go "of I don't bring back this crab Kaiju she's going to eat me".
Gojira closed his eyes; that was a lot of information in a short time, "where"
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Wow; color you impressed you thought as you circled the dead crab Kaiju, you hadn't expected him to be able to pull it off, "I guess you are capable Rodan".
His chest puffed out a bit at your praise "told you I'm a man of my word princess"; you gave him a curt smile, "alright your free to go now" you said with a wave of your claw.
He saluted you and flew off; and you began tearing into the crab, eating every last bit of meat, part of you wondered, if he knew crab was your favorite or if it was just dumb luck.
Either way he didn't really seem to pose a threat to Kong or the island dwellers; and you could probably let him off the hook, he may even turn out to be useful in the future. Halfway through you're meal you felt off; almost like you were being preyed upon, but who would be dumb enough to try and hunt you.
You'd quickly grown to be the biggest Kaiju on the island; replacing Kong a month after the whole Mina incident, he was still bulkier than you.
But whatever your species was didn't seem built to be bulky; rather slender and fast, Kong was still stronger than you, although, you probably could put maneuver him in fight.
Not that you would ever need to fight; a snap drew attention, your ears swiveled back and forth as you raised your head, tensing a little bit.
"Kong"; you called out uncertainty present in your voice, your senses telling you something wasn't right, "WRONG TRY AGAIN" came a booming voice.
But before you could even turn your head you were tackled off your feet; panic shot through you as you struggled against your attacker only for them to pin you.
You kicked and scratched but it was futile they held your face to the ground; "so I heard you tried to eat my messenger.. that's a first didn't think anyone was stupid enough to try that. But you know there's always one in the bunch", "I'm sorry I'm so sorry", you began mumbling toñhia distaste.
"Shut up"; he hissed but you were too panicked, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm-", "SHUT THE FUCK UP BITCH", your mouth immediately snapped shut.
He growled at you and you noticed how similar he looked to you; he was a bit bulkier than you and he didn't have any horns; but your dorsal plates, face and skin and were all very similar.
You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off; "no we are not the same species, I thought so too, but I'm bipedal your quadrupedal I'm bigger your a lot skinner you look like me but your not".
He said with a huff; "but you look similar enough that I think we'll get away with it"; "away with what" you asked timidly, "ever heard of sexual dimorphism?"
You shook your head no and he sighed rubbing his face, "it's when opposite sexes of the same species look different, from now on your a female Titanus Zilla capeche?"
You nodded "good" he continued, "you're going to help me with a few things now let's go", with that he got off you and began walking away but you paused.
Opening your mouth you were going to protest; until his dorsal plates lit up and he scowled over his shoulder, "I wasn't asking" he growled.
With a sigh you followed behind him.
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Birds Of A Feather - Prologue (Bird In A Cage)
Summary: It’s Birdie Allen's 21st birthday, and what is supposed to be a fun day out with her best friend quickly turns into something much darker and Birdie's world is turned upside down.
Word Count: 734
Warnings: Drugging, kidnapping, needle
Birdie twirled in front of the mirror in her new dress, the bright red fabric swirling around her, falling to its place at her knees when she stopped moving. After she pulled her hair pulled back into a ponytail, and pinned a cherry red clip on the right side, she made her way outside. She was meant to meet a friend a few doors down for her twenty first birthday. Smiling wide, Birdie nearly skipped her way down the sidewalk.
She’d only made it ten feet before she was grabbed, her mouth and nose covered with a rag to keep her from screaming. She fought against the arms that had wrapped themselves around her waist, but she wasn’t strong enough. She lashed out, kicking and struggling against her abductor, but she felt herself getting weaker. She started to feel lightheaded. Her movements slowed and her eyelids became heavy. She hadn’t lost her desire to fight, only her ability. She could feel the world going dark, her vision blurring until there was only black. All that was left to indicate she’d been there at all was a single, small, red feather.
When Birdie came to, her head was pounding, her body was sore and she had to blink hard against the florescent lights that filled the space she was in. As her vision adjusted, she saw that the room was mostly empty, save for her, the chair she was strapped to and a large machine in the shape of a giant birdcage a few feet away from her. And, if she squinted past the blinding lights, there was a smaller birdcage that hung above the machine.
"She’s awake," a gruff male voice said from behind her, hidden in the shadowed part of the room. Birdie jumped, and as her muscles jerked, she realized how tight the restraints were on her wrists and ankles. The sound of a door opening from directly behind her alerted her. She hadn’t been able to see it from her angle, as her range of motion was severely limited.
She’d known plenty of stories about girls being kidnapped, but this seemed like a place unlike anything she’d ever read or heard about. It was not a musty basement to keep her chained up in nor was it a ditch along the road where her kidnappers would eventually dump her body. The machinery in front of her seemed very advanced and complicated, not that she was an expert. She couldn’t imagine what this place might be. All she knew for sure was that someone must have made a mistake. She couldn’t be who they were looking for. Perhaps the real woman they were looking for was some kind of spy. That’s the only explanation that made any sort of sense to her.
"You have the wrong girl," Birdie shouted, now set in her conviction that this must be the case. It hurt her head to yell, but she needed them to hear, to have their attention.
"You are Bridget Allen, aren’t you," a different voice asked her, coming closer until they stood right behind her chair.
"Y-yes, that’s my name," Birdie replied shakily. She hadn’t planned on them knowing who she was. But they did know her, or at the very least they knew her name. Birdie shuddered inwardly as she tried to plan her next move. If they knew her, they must have selected her, but for what? She was nothing special. What could they possibly want from her?
"Do you really not know why you’ve been brought here? Surely you must know about your peculiarity by now," this man went on, circling the chair.
"My what," Birdie asked, genuinely not following what this man was trying to get at.
Before he had a chance to continue, the screech of a falcon pierced the room. The door behind her, foolishly left open, brought in a swarm of birds that circled overhead. Birdie watched on, fascinated at the odd spectacle. Many of the birds swooped down, using beaks and talons to attack her captors.
While Birdie remained distracted by the avian intrusion, the man who’d been speaking to her quickly shoved a needle in her neck. A quick, sharp pain flowed through her and only a few seconds later the room started to go black. Was this the end for her? To come this far and be left with only questions.
🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷
-> Chapter One
#alma peregrine#alma peregrine x oc#oc: birdie allen#fc: ariana grande#fd: miss peregrine’s home for peculiar children#birdie x alma
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Bridget, Bright Goddess of the Gael Talon Abraxas
Brigid was a goddess of the Tuatha Dé Danann. She was a daughter of the chief of the gods, The Dagda, and was known as a goddess of healers, poets, smiths, childbirth and inspiration. Her name means "exalted one". This article by Branfionn NicGrioghair explores the story of Brigid and the later Christian Saint, St. Brigid, who is still honoured to this day, especially in Faughart, her birthplace, and Kildare, where she founded a monastery.
Brigid is the Daughter of the Dagda, one of the more universal deities of the pagan Gaelic world. She is known as the Goddess of Healers, Poets, Smiths, Childbirth and Inspiration; Goddess of Fire and Hearth and a patron of warfare or Briga. Her soldiers were called Brigands. Her name means "Exalted One." She is also known as Brigantia, Brid, Bride, Briginda, Brigdu, and Brigit. She is said to lean over every cradle. The lore and customs have continued to this day regarding Brighid, more vividly than all the other Gaelic deities combined.
In the middle ages, Brigid is in many stories. In one she is the wife of Bres, the half-Fomorian ruler of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Their son, Ruadan, wounded the smith god Giobhniu at the second battle of Magh Tuireadh but he himself was slain in the combat. Brigid then went to the battlefield to mourn her son. This was said to be the first caoine (keening), or lament, heard in Ireland. Until recent time, it was a tradition to hire women to caoine at every graveside. In another story, Brighid was the wife of Tuireann and had three sons: Brian, Iuchar and Ircharba. In the tale, The Sons of Tuirean, these three killed the god Cian, father of Lugh Lámhfhada when he was in the form of a pig.
She was transformed by the Church of St. Brigid into St. Brigid about 453 C.E. Saint Brighid is known as the patroness of farm work and cattle, and protector of the household from fire and calamity. To this day, one of her most common names in Gaelic is Muime Chriosd, "Foster-Mother of Christ." St. Brigid was said to be the daughter of Dubthach, a Druid who brought her from Ireland to be raised on the Isle of Iona, sometimes called "The Druid's Isle."
By Branfionn NicGrioghair
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a list of names inspired by: birds
this list includes names of birds, birdlike names, and the meanings of each one.
Alouette: French for “lark”
Altair/Altaira: Arabic for ‘the flying eagle’
Ani: a species of tropical birds
Arini: the tribe of parrots that includes macaws and parakeets
Ava: from the Latin for “bird”
Birdie: cute vintage name, could be a nickname for Bridget or Elizabeth
Byrd: Old English, originally given as a nickname to one thought to bear a fancied resemblance to a bird
Cairina: a genus of ducks
Callum: Scottish, means “dove”
Chelidon: Greek name for a swallow
Claravis: a genus of neotropical doves
Corvus: means “crow”
Covey: a little group of birds, especially partridges
Crane: from the name of the long-legged bird
Cygnet: a baby swan
Dacelo: a kookaburra
Dove: lovely, simple bird name
Eagle: a strong name, this refers to the bird of prey
Efron: Hebrew, means “singing bird”
Evelyn: means “beautiful bird”
Falcon: another cool bird of prey name
Faulkner: means “falcon trainer”
Feather: if you want to go a bit literal
Finch: little birds found all over the world
Fowler: means “bird trapper”
Hawk: another cool bird of prey
Heron: long-legged freshwater and coastal birds
Jay: a nickname, but also a cute bird
Jena: Sanskrit/Arabic, means “little bird”
Kanara: Hebrew for “canary”
Kestrel: a type of falcon
Kirk: from the Greek for bird
Laraline: Latin, meaning “seagull”
Lark: a playful songbird
Linette: a ‘linnet’ is a tiny bird from the finch family
Loa: the name of a bird in the Icelandic language
Lonan: blackbird
Loriini: a tribe of Australasian parrots
Manu: Polynesian, “bird of the night”
Melidora: a hook-billed kingfisher
Merula: blackbird
Minerva: an extinct genus of owls
Nesta: a variation of Agnes
Nydia: Latin, means “nest”
Palila: Hawaiian singing forest bird
Paloma: Spanish, means “dove”
Peregrine: a type of falcon
Phoenix: from Greek myth, this bird dies and then rises from its own ashes
Raven: a large black bird, used as the gods’ messengers in mythology
Rhea: an ostrich-like bird
Robin: a pretty spring bird, also Batman’s bestie
Salvadorina: a type of duck from New Guinea
Sarika: a cuckoo bird, also means “princess”
Starling: a pretty bird with iridescent feathers
Talon: badass name referring to the claw of a bird of prey
Torio: Japanese, means “bird’s tail”
Trugon: a thick-billed ground pigeon
Vireo: a green-yellow bird, but also a medical marijuana company, so use with discretion
Weaver: a bird found in Asia and India
Whistler: an Australian songbird
Wren: the cutest little bird you ever saw, I promise
Zenaida: a species of American doves
Zipporah: Hebrew, means “bird”. Sephora is another version of this name
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What do you think the countries (Allied and Axis) would name their son(s)and/or daughter(s)?
💕Thank you for requesting 💕
America:
He would probably name his kids after cities/states in America
Boy: Austin, Dallas, Monty (after Montana), Nash (After Nashville), Phoenix, Memphis
Girl: Cali (after California), Ari (Arizona), Charlotte, Lulu (Honolulu), Madison
England:
Something very classic
Boy: Ben, Henry, Bennet, Harrison, Harry, Daniel, William, Philip
Girl: Mary, Alice, Elizabeth, Victoria, Samantha, Lucy
France:
Very classy and pretty names
Boy: Charles, Louis, Andre, Remy, Abbé, Alion, Bale, Brenton, David, Dion
Girl: Anais, Annabelle, Aria, Angelica, Diana, Daphne Gwyneth, Jolie, Liliana
Russia:
Harsh-ish/ powerful names
Boy: Jax, Ace, Joaquin, Demetri, Lars, Ernest, Malcom, Jagger, Hunter, Ransom
Girl: Aadya, Anastasia, Melisende, Millicent, Keren, Edrei, Jaiyana
China:
A mix of traditional and modern
Boy: Bai, Bo, Nahuel, Naoki, Pace, Cadman, Cade, Cadoc, Kaelan
Girl: Fei, Zhi, Ruo, Mai, Rainey, Olivia, Sienna, Bria, Maajida
Canada:
Modern and short
Boy: Javon, Kaso, Pierce, Kolton, River, Campbell, Damon, Kash
Girl: Billie, Jayden, Joy, Willow, Luna, Holly
Italy:
All over the place:
Boy: Alessandro, Aldo, Arrigo, Dario, Abele, Fiore
Girl: Vera, Emilia, Bella, Montay, Carina, Sistine, Bianca, Sonnet,
Romano:
Classic is boy /modern is girl
Boy: Lorenzo, Mattia, Leonardo, Leon, Guiseppe, Marco, Diego
Girl: Pia, Viviana, Esta, Largo, Jacee, Tacincala, Tahlia
Japan:
Cute and peaceful girl/ powerful for boy
Boy: Kawan, Etan, Andrew, Osiris, Kenzo, Kano
Girl: Emma, Sophia, Ava, Mei, Lyla, Penelope, Ellie, Elena
Germany:
Powerful
Boy: Diesel, Maddox, Maximilien, Sargent, Talon, Elias, Noah, Jörg, Sebastian, Otto, Dieter
Girl: Bridget, Philomena, Edrei, Lenna, Braelynn, Nakhti, Valda, Coretta, Zora
(I also feel if he had a boy he would make Gilbert his middle name and if it was a girl he would make it Gilberta)
Prussia:
Kinda wants to name the kid after himself but holds himself back
Boy: Friedrich, Karl, Walter, Wilhelm, Hans, Peter, Jürgen, Frank, Stefen
Girl: Sabine, Lea, Lena, Stefanie, Renate, Marie
#aphhetalia#aph#hetalia#names#imagines#aphgermany#aphprussia#aphromano#aphrussia#aphfrance#aphcanada#aphchina#aphitaly#aphimagines#aphjapan#aphamerica#aphengland#aphcomfort#aphcountries#aphheadcons#aphhetaliainagines#headcons and imagines#headcon#headcons
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Teach Us Something Please
I was deeply honored (and terribly excited) to get @thestraggletag for Secret Santa this year. I really wanted to write something worthy of my deep admiration for you and I hope it comes through in this little (okay not so little as usual I got carried away) Hogwarts Professor AU.
It has a lot of callouts to the books and I formatted it to fit the same story structure so I hope you enjoy it! Happy Rumbelle Christmas in July, straggle. Sincerely, one of your biggest fans.
(Note: I did not get to brit-pick this as well as I would have liked so if you see something, say something and I’ll update!)
Chapter One: Summer
June
There was a light deep in the heart of the Forbidden Forest.
In this forgotten place, there were trees older than most civilizations but it had been eons since anything unknown to them had strayed this far into their dominion. Around them, the night was ripe and ready, potent with promise. It was just minutes from midnight and magic hung in the air as tangible as a summer berry ready to be plucked.
A branch creaked as a tree leaned closer to get a better look. The light spun, illuminating the inquisitive tree, but also revealing a witch’s young, pale face.
Her eyes were as bright as the bluejay’s breast.
Her hair a rich brown, the same shade as the maple wand she held in her hand.
Satisfied the creak had not foretold danger, the witch turned to continue forward, following the protected path deeper and deeper into the woods. As she arrived at a grove of aspens, the witch faltered for a moment, pausing to dig out a small book from her robes. Though there was no breeze, their silver leaves shivered and shook as the trees chatted amongst themselves. Nearby, a river gurgled and bubbled in interest.
Her wand tip lowered to the pages, revealing a scrawled map. The map was still, save for one small dot that was moving rapidly across the page. Keeping the book in one hand, the witch threw a cautious look over her shoulder before she carefully placed her wand in the palm of her hand. “Point me,” she whispered.
The wand hurried to obey. It spun once, twice, three times before it jerked to a stop sixty degree to her right. Well off the path. With a weary sigh, the witch continued onward, casting occasional glances to her right but keeping the octavo open in her hand.
Bound in black leather and stitched with golden thread, at first glance, the book looked like any other Hufflepuff memoir. Perhaps why it had been left undisturbed for over a century, hidden in plain sight amongst the other books in the library.
As the Hogwart’s librarian, Belle French had numerous obligations to the school. First and foremost to make sure its students were safe. Books could be very dangerous things, and even the most unassuming book could cause lasting harm to the unwary. After all, knowledge was a dangerous thing.
The book in her hand was an excellent example. If Belle had not been searching for some light reading on Bridget Wenlock, she may not have ever noticed the small book. It had been nestled in amongst the countless Helga Hufflepuff biographies and Belle had assumed that was what it was as well. That was until she had lifted it to get a better view and felt the tingle of dark magic race down her spine.
Pushing cautiously through the overgrown branches barring the path, Belle was careful to keep on the trail. Robin had warned what might happen if she stepped so much of a toe out of the protective wards. He had wanted to go with her, but the book was clear: only a winged maiden of sound mind would be able to seek and find.
Seek and find were the words of the book. A winged maiden could have meant anything but Belle suspected it meant a daughter of Ravenclaw. She was not descended from the line but she had been sorted into the house. She hoped that would be enough. As of sound mind… she felt far from sane at the moment.
“Are you sure about this?” Professor Lucas had demanded when Belle had started asking questions about the forest. The Care of Magical Creatures Professor knew all too well what lurked in the forest during the full moon.
The attack had been two summers ago now. Ruby had been lucky to escape with her life. While parents had not been keen on a werewolf teaching their children, Headmistress Ghorm had pointed out there was hardly a better-suited teacher for the role. Thus, Professor Lucas had been allowed to stay, with some safety measures in place.
As if sensing her thoughts, there was a howl in the distance. In answer, a branch broke nearby as something hurtled through the underbrush. Belle froze, waiting until it had passed. After several long minutes, when nothing stirred, she began again, but her heart was thudding sickeningly in her chest.
She walked on for what felt like hours, occasionally stopping to check the map. The dot on the map had come to a stop up ahead but she was still a fair ways away and the path was overgrown and slick. Belle had cloaked her steps to make no noise but her feet were sore and her back grew tight. She was pressing on- when all at once, the path stopped.
A great tree had fallen across the path. The trunk was nearly seven feet high on its side. Belle considered it for a moment. She could easily levitate over it or remove it from the path entirety but she suspected that was exactly what something wanted her to do. Upon closer inspection, she saw the tree had been recently felled. She hoped and despaired all at once.
Steeling her spine, she spoke into the wind. “I seek the one who sees all,” she said to the gloom surrounding her. “Let the seer be seen.”
The wind rustled the branches, and for a moment, the only answer was the shivering of leaves. Belle bent her head back to the book, murmuring a sharp “Lumos.”
The tip of her wand flared brightly as a torch, illuminating not only the map but the face of something reptilian and cruel which sat crouched at her feet. Belle would have shot backward, and nearly did so, before she recalled nothing could hurt her on the path.
Still, she trembled when she lifted her wand out towards the creature to find it safely outside the path’s border. Belle released the breath she had been holding when it stood, revealing it to be more man than creature.
“You would look upon the seer,” it hissed. “Look your fill and then release me. I have my own business this eve that does not pertain to you, child.”
Belle’s fingers were thick and clumsy as she raised her free hand to the neckline of her robe. Slowly, she pulled at the chain at her neck until it fell free, revealing what appeared to be a small charm. It was shaped like a crooked lightning bolt but on closer inspection was a dagger. It was heavier than it should be and cold as ice against her skin despite the warm night air and her evening exertion.
An artifact of untold power with the only clue to its purpose the single word etched into its surface. Few wizards or witches would have recognized it for what it was, but Belle had delved deep into the tomes detailing the darkest of arts. When it had fallen out of the octavo’s pages, Belle had suspected it for what it was the darkest of dark magic.
“Rumpelstiltskin,” Belle said, faltering slightly as she recited the unfamiliar word writ upon the dagger. “I name you.”
A crooked smile revealed jagged, yellow teeth. “As did my mother.”
“Dark powers are gathering. War is coming.”
“It is already here,” the creature told her cheerfully. “And it will fall upon Hogwarts before the next summer solstice.”
It was as if he was stating a fact and not the end of the world as she knew it. Belle lifted her chin. “I have need of a seer. Need of you, the one connected to the Darkness but unbent to its will. I have sought you out to free you from your binds.”
“And how do you know I am what you say I am?”
Belle held up the book. It had been vague in details in some places, but rich in others. It had spoken of the seer, a creature tainted by the Darkness, bound to the Forbidden Forest.
Belle bit the inside of her cheek. “I am here to seek and find-”
“Seek and find?” he began to laugh. “All you have found is death. I see your end, child. Alone. Afraid. Surrounded by books. Blood seeping into their pages. You are still. You do not move.”
If he thought to scare her with foretellings of death, he misjudged her. “So, I will not die here tonight at your hands,” she said with a grave nod. “Good. Then, we can speak frankly.”
Belle transfigured a nearby branch into a chair. “Tell me how you came to be bound to the Darkness.”
He raised a clawed talon to his breast, raking the sharp claws down his scaled chest as he considered her. There were remnants of leather hide clinging to his arms and shoulders but they were in tatters, shredded. Belle wondered how long he had been out here.
“Four centuries,” he answered, golden eyes unblinking. “As for my origins, I sought protection from the Darkness by joining with it and found more than I had bargained. I found power beyond telling, a power that meant I would never be afraid again. The cost was madness.”
“You don’t seem insane to me.”
He cackled as he sank back down into a crouch. “Says the child who wandered into the woods alone. Haven’t you ever heard of what happens to maidens who enter the Forbidden Forest?”
“I am no maiden,” Belle said curtly. “Now, as I was saying-”
“Where did you find that?” He gestured to the book which was now open in her lap.
“That would be telling,” Belle responded just as blithely. “Why do you want to know?”
Without warning, his hand shot out as if to grab for her. Belle leaned backward, nearly toppling over in her transfigured chair. His talons stopped just shy of her.
He was grinning. “I am tied to that damnable piece of steel. I have searched every inch of this forest. I have dug through the dirt, broken stones, climbed to the top of trees. I have plundered the bottom of the Black Lake and for not. A spell has been placed upon it, binding me to this land. Even if I wished to join the gathering Darkness, I could not so long as that dagger remained out of my possession. So, I will ask you again, where did you find it, child?”
“I am not a child,” Belle snapped, losing her patience as usual. “I am the head librarian of Hogwarts-”
“The library!” Rumpelstiltskin hissed. “A dirty trick. He knew I could not cross the castle’s wards.”
“Who knew?” Belle was annoyed at herself for giving it away, even unintentionally. She would have to be more careful.
“My son,” he spat. “All I did, I did for him. But he could not see past what I had become. He bound me here, left me here to rot.”
Belle swallowed. “Then, attend me well. I have a deal for you.”
“Oh?” He sidled closer. “ I like deals. What shall it be? You wish for freedom. To see the world. You wish for knowledge. You thirst for adventure. You long for something more-”
“This is not about me,” she snapped, afraid of what he might reveal. “This is about the fate of the wizarding world.”
“Spare me,” he said with a shake of his head. “It is none to me what happens to it. I ceased caring long ago, child.” He gestured to his tattered clothing. “I have my problems.”
“Then, I have a beneficial solution for us both. Come teach at Hogwarts,” she proposed.
“Teach?” he hooted. “Teach what, child? The Dark Arts?”
“Divination,” Belle replied as the pieces fell into place. “Our divination professor foresaw her death and fled. The students leave for summer term shortly. Come on the first of July. If you swear no harm shall come to anyone who calls Hogwarts home, the wards will be open to you.”
“And why would I want to do that?” he snarled. Saliva dripped down from his curled lip. “You would have me swap one cage for another,” he murmured. “A nicer cage, true, but a cage nonetheless. Give me freedom.”
Freedom would allow the seer to return to the Darkness from which its power originated. And with a seer as powerful as the creature before her...whose very existence thrummed and hummed with secrets of the past, present and what would be...if Belle freed this being from its binds, she would condemn all of wizardkind.
Belle shook her head. “I cannot do that.”
“You could,” it sang, sliding back into the shadows.
Belle took a risk. “It very well might be swapping one cage for another, but this cage has running water.”
Rumpelstiltskin scoffed.
Belle pressed on. “If there is to be a battle, you may do as you like, fight or flee back to the forest. All I ask in return is that you give us counsel. Warn us of what you see.”
Warn you? Very well. I’ve seen you,” he said quietly. All traces of insanity and monstrosity vanished. “If you offer your hand to me, I will take it. But,” he held up a finger and wagged it at her. “Once I take it, you will never be free of me.”
Belle cocked her head to the side. It did not sound like a threat...more of a warning. “I’ve come all this way,” she told him. “If my freedom is the cost of knowledge, so be it.”
She reached her hand out across the path border.
When his scaled fingers curled over her’s, they were warm.
July
A cup of lukewarm tea was cradled in her hands. Belle had barely touched it, too caught up in searching the forest line, waiting with bated breath for Rumpelstiltskin to emerge. She had been waiting since morning. Hours had passed and now the light was fading as the sun started to sink in the western sky.
It had been a long two weeks. She had emerged from the Forbidden Forest the morning of the Summer Solstice and gone straight to the Headmistress. Reul Ghorm was one of the most powerful witches in the wizarding world as well as the wisest but it took all of Belle’s collective powers of persuasion, stubbornness and determination to get the Headmistress to agree to let the seer into the castle, much less award him a role on the teaching staff.
In the end, Belle had not been completely forthright. She had shared the book, told the story of her encounter with the Seer in the forest, and shared her plans to use his powers to continue to protect Hogwarts. But she had left out his true name and the matter of the dagger currently hanging around her neck.
Footsteps approached from around the back of the groundskeeper’s hut. She turned to find a wizard standing over her, but not the one she was expecting.
Robin hoisted his son, Roland, upon his hip and nodded toward the untouched cup in her hand. “My tea’s not that bad, is it?”
“Bad tea, Daddy,” the toddler insisted, struggling to get down.
Belle shook out of her reverie and stood. She murmured a wordless apology as she swapped the teacup for Roland, gathering the boy in her arms. His curls, so like his mother’s, tickled her nose. A rush of sorrow washed over her as she thought of Marian. She would have understood.
To hide the sadness in her eyes, Belle pressed a kiss to Roland’s forehead, and the boy giggled. “Down, Belle!” he begged but she didn’t dare let him down to run, no matter how much he wiggled and whined.
The sound of someone else approaching caused her heart to jump up into her throat. But the figure was coming from the castle, not the woods, draped in a familiar red cloak. “No sign?” Ruby called out as she neared the hut.
Belle shook her head. She should have known Rumpelstiltskin would keep her waiting. If he was even coming at all-
“Do you have such little faith in me?” came Rumpelstiltskin’s voice from behind her.
Roland took one look at the scaled creature and began to wail. Robin had his wand in his hand in an instant but Rumpelstiltskin waved a lazy hand and the wand skittered out of Robin’s grip and flew high and far out of range. For a horrible moment, it looked as if Robin meant to tackle Rumpelstiltskin, who was already grinning nastily.
“You will do no harm to those who call Hogwarts home!” Belle reminded him over Roland’s terrified cries.
Rumpelstiltskin bared his teeth at her just as Ruby’s spell hit him square in the chest. He froze before teetering backward to crash across the kitchen table at his back. Cookery went everywhere as the petrification totalus spell kept the Dark One from twitching so much as a muscle to stop his fall.
“Ruby!” Belle cried out as the Gryffindor came charging to the rescue. She accio-ed Robin’s wand as she charged past Belle into the hut. Belle couldn’t get to her wand to stop them, not with a screaming Roland nearly choking her in his terror. Small bursts of magic were emanating from the toddler, which could turn dangerous quickly. “Stop! He wouldn’t hurt anyone!”
At her exclamation, Robin and Ruby paused in the doorway, between her and Rumpelstiltskin. The two Gryffindors considered the creature bound on the floor but they did not sheath their wands.
Belle pushed past them, handing the sobbing Roland to his father. “Take him outside,” she murmured, patting the boy’s back as he clutched at Robin’s shoulders.
The groundskeeper looked as if he might argue but he only cast one last look at the creature on his hut’s floor, surrounded by shards of wood and pottery before he did as she suggested. Belle could hear him murmuring platitudes as he attempted to calm Roland down.
Belle knelt among the ruins of the table, careful to keep her face in clear view. The dagger free from her robe’s neckline “Rumpelstiltskin,” she greeted. “Took you long enough.”
“Belle,” Ruby wheedled, clearly frustrated. “This doesn’t feel right. We should get Mary Margaret. ”
Belle didn’t need a host of well-intentioned Gryffindors telling her what to do. “Give me a minute,” she said over her shoulder. When Ruby did not move from the doorway, she sighed and stood. “Ruby, please,” she said quietly, though she did not doubt Rumpelstiltskin could hear every word. “You said you’d trust me on this.”
“I trust you,” Ruby said, looking over her. “I don’t trust that thing.”
“Ruby,” Belle said softly, hearing the loathing in Ruby’s voice. “He’s not the creature that bit you.” Her hands were gentle as she laid them upon Ruby’s right forearm.
The witch wrenched her arm away, holding it protectively. “Could have been one of his pets,” she argued. “That’s just what I mean, Belle. It’s evil.”
Belle did not feel much like arguing. She had her doubts about all of this, but it did not change the facts. They had sent the students home across Great Britain and every day she woke wondering which ones may not come back.
“He can help,” was all she said.
“Yes, because he’s a great and powerful seer,’ Ruby mocked. “He doesn’t seem all that powerful if he didn’t even see a second-year level spell coming straight at him.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Belle whispered, all too aware he could hear every word. “Don’t you remember anything from Divination classes?”
Ruby bristled. “I’ve been more interested in astronomy these days, so forgive me if I don’t recall the intricacies of fortune-telling.” She brandished her hands out at Belle, palms facing upwards. “Remind me. Where’s the line that says I was going to turn into a bloodthirsty animal every month for the rest of my life?”
Belle’s temper flared. “You went out into the woods to find what was killing the unicorns. No one made you-”
“I went out there to stave off the Darkness from encroaching into Hogwarts-”
“And I did the same exact thing!” Belle finished breathlessly. “I went out in the woods, the same as you, for the same reason.”
There was no more time to cross one’s fingers and hope for the best. They had to defend themselves, defend Hogwarts. With knowledge. With foresight. With whatever they could.
“I had to at least try. We,” she added. “We have to at least try. I’m not saying you have to like this...but access to a true seer...one linked with the Darkness but not bent to it? It’s not much...but it’s more than we had before.”
Ruby stared at the creature on the floor for a long, long moment. Finally, she nodded but she wouldn’t meet Belle’s eyes. “I just hope you know what you’re doing, Belle.”
Me too, Belle thought miserably but she managed a smile. “Go help Robin?” she suggested gently. Outside, Roland’s crying was only growing louder and pops of what sounded like fireworks were starting to go off.
Ruby disappeared back out into the warmth of the early evening, leaving Belle alone with Rumpelstiltskin. Her hand went to the dagger around her neck, a constant chill against her skin.
Taking a deep breath, Belle turned to kneel back down beside the seer but she did not take off Ruby’s spell, not yet. His eyes were calculating, something hidden deep in their depths. “I hope you can help,” she said quietly. “Merlin’s beard, I hope you can help.”
She murmured “finite” and braced herself for an attack, physical or magical but none came.
Rumpelstiltskin merely raised himself to a sitting position and took a look around the hut. “What a sty,” he grumbled and with a casual wave of his left hand, everything straightened around them. The shattered table repaired itself, the crockery mending. The sink suddenly splashed to life, submerging the dirty dishes in soapy water as the soot started to scoot across the floor and out the door.
“His wife died last fall,” Belle said as she got to her feet. “She went to Diagon Alley for a pixie deterrent for the pumpkin patch. She didn’t come back.”
Belle offered a hand to help him up but the Seer did not take it. He rose to his own feet in a graceful motion, dusting off his leather breeches as if he had not been utterly at her mercy moments ago. “Explains his less than hospitable hosting skills.”
“He’s had a rough time of it.”
“And what’s the werewolf’s excuse?” he grumbled.
“She gets a bit...snappy around the full moon,” Belle said with a shrug. “We’ve gotten used to it.”
His strange golden eyes flickered to the sunlight where the two Gryffindors stood. They were both waving their wands so hundreds of colorful bubbles billowed out of the tips. Roland ran between them, his head thrown back in laughter as he rushed one way than the other.
“Everyone here has a story of being touched by the darkness,” Belle added quietly.
His eyes turned back to her. “And your story?”
Belle hesitated, just for a moment. “Ask me again at the end of this year,” she said quietly. “Come on, I’ll take you up to the castle. We set up rooms in the Divination Tower.”
August
The Charms professor was mad as a hatter.
That was the only reason Rumpelstiltskin could think of for why Jefferson had taken to coming to his office every day when most of the Hogwarts staff had decided to steer clear of him. All but the Charms Professor, the castle’s healer, and of course the librarian.
Rumpelstiltskin stood at the window, looking out across the Black Lake. The Giant Squid propelled along the surface, basking in the summer light as it had done for the past century. Behind him, Whale was reading the paper while Jefferson lounged on his back, spinning his hat idly round and round his finger.
“Someone spilled the beans,” Whale whistled as he folded the Daily Prophet and flung it over at Jefferson. The Slytherin caught it and flipped it open in one smooth motion without so much as missing a beat.
Rumpelstiltskin glanced over at the paper, and the photograph of a bombed-out building stared back at him. Flames flickered in black ink, the moment captured on magical film to be replayed over and over again for all of time. He turned away from it, back towards the sun, lifting his face to enjoy the Scottish summer breeze wash over him.
This he knew. This is he remembered. He had not forgotten the ways of wizardkind but a lot had changed since his Hogwarts days. He had spent the entirety of July ensconced in the tower reading whatever the Librarian had brought him and still wasn’t caught up.
Belle, a voice whispered in his head. Her name is Belle
She had not given him her name but he had heard it upon the lips of the others. Until she gave it to him herself, he would continue to call her the Librarian.
It had been what he had called her before he had known her.
He had known her the instant he had laid eyes upon her on the summer solstice. He had even warned her...and still, the foolish, brave girl had given him her hand. Sealing their fates.
How often had he seen her in his visions? The bright light at the end of the dark, long tunnel of his existence. He had seen their future, saw their lives entwined in ways he had not thought possible. His destiny stamped as clear as the printed word upon her fair face but he could not find the courage to give that truth voice. So, he told her of the other things he had seen: Her death. The fall of Hogwarts. Everything she was scared of.
But he left out the other parts. For those were the things that scared him.
Lost in his thoughts, he did not notice the first owl that flew by the window or the second. It may have been the fourth or even fifth owl he finally saw, but soon the entire sky was full of them. His brow furrowed at the flurry of wings. Jefferson joined him at the window, wordlessly handing him the paper.
The paper was opened to the headline “Newest Divination Teacher: Monstrous Minion of Darkness”. The article went on to explain in graphic detail how he had supposedly run off the old Divination Teacher (a young woman named Astrid Nova) and took her place, bewitching Headmistress Reul Ghorm and bending her to his will.
He tossed it aside. Ghorm had already been bent to the Darkness’s will. Even if she did not yet know it. He did not know how the Librarian had convinced that one to let him cross the castle boundary, but he suspected it was only a matter of time before the Darkness in the headmistress's heart overwhelmed her. He could see the shadows on her face whenever she gazed at him, considering, wondering. She would come to him by the end of the year with her questions.
There was a knock at the trap door. Ever polite, his Librarian. He waved a hand and the trap door flipped open for her to emerge with her daily peace offering, a tray of tea. “Master Whale,” she greeted as Victor took the tray from her. “Professor Jefferson.”
“The Dragon was just telling me my fortune,” Jefferson said with a sorrowful grin.
The Librarian knew all too well what his fortune entailed. Day after day, Jefferson only asked Rumpelstiltskin the same question. “And how does your Grace fair today?”
“Thriving,’ Jefferson answered proudly, though his sad smile did not brighten.
Jefferson and his family had encountered the Darkness early in its rise. After Jefferson had barely survived the attack that had claimed his wife, he had sent his only daughter to the continent to attend Beauxbatons, praying it would be far enough. She had not spoken to him since, nearly three years
“And you, Master Whale?” Belle asked, though not as warmly.
It was clear that the Librarian did not quite trust Whale’s interest in him. Rumpelstiltskin could have told her that Whale had lost a brother years ago and had kept his body in the hopes of finding some magic strong enough to reanimate him, to bring him back. But he doubted that would do much to alleviate her suspicions. The healer was harmless. For now.
“Happy to be here,” Victor responded flippantly. “But like all good things, my time with you all has come to an end. The Nolans are stopping by the infirmary for an informal check-up.”
The Defense against the Dark Arts professor and her husband were expecting their first. They had been going to St. Mungo’s but with the rise of violence in London, it did not surprise him that they had opted to stay closer to Hogwarts.
Rumpelstiltskin exposed his fangs in a grimacing smile. He did not care much for Mary Margret Nolan. She had been the most vocal against him taking residence in the castle and been a thorn in his side ever since. “Send along my congratulations,” he said as Victor started to descend the spiral staircase. “Emma is a lovely name.”
The Librarian sighed. “They were going to have it be a surprise,” she chastised him as Victor’s laughter floated back up to them.
“Oh?”
He wasn’t fooling her but he had come to enjoy teasing the smile out of her, it was happening more and more frequently these days, which should have worried him.
Jefferson cleared his throat. “I’ll go and give Leroy a hand with the owls,” he said with a tip of his hat. The trapdoor swung shut behind him, leaving the two of them alone.
“Owls?” she echoed in confusion. Rumpelstiltskin nodded towards the paper on the table. The Librarian picked it up, scanned the headline and groaned. “Curse her,” she muttered, tucking her hair behind her ear. He watched her from beneath his curtain of hair. The Librarian always wore her hair pulled back in a ponytail, using whatever scrap of ribbon was at hand, but tendrils always escaped to fall about her face. “I’m going to wring her neck for this. She knows how important you being here is-”
There was little love lost between the defense teacher and the librarian but he had not expected such violence on his behalf. “Pregnancy does strange things to the mind,” he said, remembering all too well his own wife’s pregnancy and the mood swings that had accompanied it back in the days before modern medicine’s miracles. “It matters not,” he said even as more owls flew by. “Hogwarts is still the safest place in England. Those who do not send their children put them at great peril.”
The Librarian poured a cup of tea, absently sending it floating over to him as she began to pour another. “I hope I was right about all this,” she said quietly, more to herself than to him.
He could have told her she was. That her destiny had been written long before she had been born, that she was following a path already laid out for her. But then she would ask him too many questions. He had did not always know when, just what would be.
So, he said nothing.
She let the paper drop to the table and sat in Jefferson’s vacated chair. Her fingers went to her throat, idly playing with the necklace hidden beneath her robes. “Why do you wear that?” he asked as he sat down across from her. “Inanimate magical objects can be dangerous things.”
“I’ve heard,” Belle said drily as her hand fell back to her lap. “I thought it better to keep it close than to risk it falling into the wrong hands.”
Rumpelstiltskin had thought the same thing. He could still remember the splitting pain...the emptiness that had never left him. To this day, he could feel the hole where his soul had been ripped away.
They didn’t say much after that. They took their tea in silence as owl after owl flew across the summer sky.
Read the rest on A03
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BOSS OF THE PRAIRIE
Snakewater hissed his self away and ever since, it got so lonely. A lonely raised up on its knees in me -- little thing in a tutu, stonefaced, new -- a rabbity rarity in the gold and green slabs (unpersoned weary), where gold is a lesson in patience and bearing incessant combs and the green slabs preach fiery green sermons on the flesh and how when we lie to each other we are the white stuffing inside things and it hurts to see us look so cheap. I draw my eyebrows on twice -- surprised, severe. Snakewater, I miss you so much I’m nowhere and still I’m flesh, defeatable. The clock hands whisker around and I keep finding these slices on me. Like to make me blades of grass. How not to lusteth after, after the past or future. After even the calm of grasses. And how to tell a truth to nothing. Like: maybe it’s gone -- the way I woke up trampled, chest wet, as if hot horses, as if something was coming or coming back.
- Bridget Talone (from “The Soft Life”)
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