#chel's october

[glimmerofawesome]

[pernillecfcw]

Chilly in Oct🧡

[happyfoxx-art]

ITS THE SPOODVILLE UPDATE

TW: Spiders ahead (duh)

I've needed to do a little update on here for a minute! i can't remember the last i posted here so we'll just talk a lot about spiders for a sec.

Let's get the sad news out of the way first. My sweet first jumper, Mochi, passed on Tuesday. He had been acting quite sick for a few days so it wasn't a surprise to me. I'm gonna miss the little guy, and I have a memorial thing for him being made.

Rest in peace, Mochi. I love you <3

On to the good, more fun news ;u;

we have new residents!

First up is Poppy! She was my husbands gift to me for Mothers day. She's an i6 regal, so she's still pretty teeny and young but her personality is coming out more and more by the day! She's super cute and silly.

Next up, can't have Poppy without a Branch, right? This is Branch! He's got lovely green chels and he's regal i8, and he's living in my dinotown enclosure for now:

He's built himself a home in the leaf above the brachiosaur, and he seems quite comfy!

Next we got Indie! She's a gorgeous orange phase regal, i7. She's SO peppy! There's a ton of personality in this little lady, she's very active and curious. I absolutely love her, she's very fun to handle. She likes to jump a lot! She's living in my decora unicorn house:

Indie was supposed to be my last new spider till October, but the universe gave me an extra little surprise.

This is Joltik! I found them on the wall of my bedroom, and they're adjusting really well to pet life! They're in a temp home for now, but I got a cute permanent enclosure on the way :)

I love these little guys more than i thought I would. I hope you guys enjoy hearing about them, because I like talking about them xD

[bordysbae]

what if the reader likes to journal and shes been keeping a journal where she writes about her relationship with (guy of your choice) before they were like dating or something up until now and she gives it to them on their birthday and it’s all emotional and stuff.

“you kept those?!”

adam fantilli x reader

word count: 1k

sorry i couldn’t help myself but pick adam!! he’s too underrated ugh, but anyways this idea is so so so cute!

you and adam have been friends since before you can even remember. your moms were college roommates throughout all four years of university at michigan. so when they found out that you and your older brother drew, who’s the same age as luca, got into michigan, and that fantillis would be playing hockey there, everyone around you was ecstatic.

your feelings for adam began in the third grade, and you’re a freshman in college now. you guys began dating last year, and everyone was waiting for it to happen. you guys were clearly meant to be, according to both your families and friends, but nothing ever happened until now. of course you’ve had other boyfriends before and he’s had girlfriends, but deep down you always knew that he’ll forever be your first love.

when you starting having these ‘tingly feelings’ around him, as your 10 year old self described them, you decided to keep a diary. you would write in it every time you and adam had cute moments, and you still write in it sometimes. you’ve already filled up one whole diary, and you’re halfway done with another one, but being in college now, you don’t really have the time to write in it. so you thought, why not give the diaries to adam for his birthday?

written in the diaries are things like how once he cut you a slice of pie at the annual fantilli’s friends-giving, or even how you would get jealous that he was playing chel with your older brother instead of hanging with you. the first diary is from third grade to seventh grade, and the second one is eight grade till now.

—

you and adam drove about forty-five minutes to detroit, to eat at a fancy resturant everyone has been raving about. you’re sat at a candle lit table in a restaurant, with a view looking over the city, when the perfect moment comes up to give him the diaries.

“so as your birthday gift this year, i didn’t get you much, but i thought maybe you’d enjoy something a little more sentimental.” you say shyly, as you reach into your purse to grab the two old diaries.

adam let’s out a little chuckle, as he reaches across the table to grab them from you. “holy crap! you kept these?! i remember seeing these in your bedroom as a kid, you’d never let anyone touch them. i remember once me, luca, and drew tried to steal it from your room and you started screaming and hitting us” adam laughs, making you blush from embarrassment.

“yeah well you’ll see why when you open them.” you say, embarrassed that you’re letting him finally read all of the diary entries you’ve written about him over the years.

he cracks open the small book in his hands, and begins to attempt to understand your messy elementary school hand writing. he reads through a few pages and you both laugh about it, and he switched over to the other diary. he opens it to a random page, which happens to be from freshman year.

october 31st 2018

dear diary,

it’s halloween night, and this is the first year since fourth grade that we haven’t gone out together. me and adam swore to never stop trick or treating until we’re both old enough to drive, so that we can go to parties together, but looks like him and his new girlfriend have other plans. adam keeps sending me a bunch of snapchats of him at this stupid party with her head on his shoulder. it doesn’t help that luca and drew went out to a party too, so now i’m at home trying not to cry. i hate having a crush on adam, i never want to feel like this again.

adam looks up from the diary and gives you a small pitiful smile, making you hide your face in embarrassment, “i regret giving you these!” you groan and hide your face in your hands. he reaches across the table and takes your hand in his.

“don’t be embarrassed, i think these are super cute. they’re warming my heart. i can’t wait to read the rest of them, and if it makes you feel any better i had a crush on you during like half of these too. you think i really liked fiona that much? i remember i kept thinking how much i wanted to be trick or treating with you instead.” he blushes.

“you’re just saying that!” you laugh, unbelieving of what he’s saying.

“i’m dead serious! why else would i be sending you snaps you while i’m at a party. i really only dated her cause i was just tired of always getting chirped for not having a girlfriend, she she had a crush on me,” adam chuckles, making you giggle a little bit at the thought.

“i was always right there, y’know”

“i know that now, and boy do i wish i could go back in time and do it all differently. you don’t know how bad i wished i was the one who took you to homecoming freshman year. me and fiona weren’t even matching colors! oh and don’t even get me started on homecoming junior year. you went with one of my teammates, i was pissed!”

“well hey, you did take me to senior prom!” you chuckle a little, looking at your lockscreen photo of the two of you from last year.

“because we were dating then! that doesn’t count”

“yes it does adam! plus all of the stupid relationships we got into during high school just proves we were bound to be” you cheesily grin, making adam smile as well.

“yeah i guess so, but seriously if i could go back and change it all i would. i would’ve asked you out like, i dunno, five years ago!”

“oh sure, cause you definitely had the balls to do that. the real question is, wouldn’t our braces have gotten caught in each other?” you joke, remembering how ugly you both looked with braces five years ago. adam laughs, almost spitting out his water, making you and him both laugh even harder. you guys get a few stares from the older adults around you guys, but you both don’t care. you’re just enjoying the moments with the man you finally get to call yours.

[seasrose]

☆ –– ( natasha liu bordizzo, they/he, nonbinary ) who is CHELSEA ZHAO anyways? ew. you don’t know about THEM, we’ll bet you want to. they’re feeling THIRTY-THREE and KICKBOXING feels like a perfect night to them. rumor has it they’re SELF-DESTRUCTIVE and HOT-HEADED because they care, but they’re also SINCERE and QUICK-WITTED in the best way. THEY work to make a little money as an OWNER & TATTOO ARTIST @ TATTOO KISS. they’ve rented a place on cornelia street in the form of AN APARTMENT. CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT & YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN KID is the song they could dance to the beat of forevermore.

──── 𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑺 .

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄. xue chelsea alan zhao. 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒. chels ; al. 𝐀𝐆𝐄. thirty-three. 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘. october 26, 1990. 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄. scorpio sun, aquarius moon, sagitarrius rising. 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑. nonbinary. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒. they/them ; he/him. 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. queer ; grayromatic. 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏. ambiamorous.

──── 𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬 .

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌. natasha liu bordizzo. 𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑. brown. 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑. dark brown currently dyed purple. 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄. usually thrown up in a messy ponytail ; it's down only rarely. 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. 5'5. 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂(𝐒). a scar on their forearm from sparring. 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄. darker tones, with the occasional light blue. leans heavily on dressing for practicality. 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. two lobe piercings. 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒. a few birds & nature tattoos.

──── 𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷𝑺 .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. huang zhao & emilia zhao. 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. charley zhao. 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑(𝐒). sage warner. 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑(𝐒). tba. 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. tba.

──── 𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀 .

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆. jackboot jump by hozier. 𝐏𝐎𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒. hopeful, determined, sincere, quick-witted, && self-sufficient. 𝐍𝐄𝐆 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒. self-destructive, short-tempered, impulsive, vindictive, && rebellious. 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄. acts of service. 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. chaotic good.

──── 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺 .

tba !

[cheltranslations]

Halloween Party @Nonaka Miki (23.10.31)

Chel here 😈💜👾

Thank you very much

For coming to look at my blog！

Your likes and comments

Make me super happy！

☁️🎀Yesterday's 2 choices🎀☁️

How do you like your ice cream

In a cone？

In a cup？

It was about 50-50！

I'm a slow eater

So I prefer a cup

Because then it doesn't matter if the ice cream melts 🥺

If I didn't have to worry about it melting、

I'd prefer it in a cone！

☁️🎀❛ ･ ❛🎀☁️

Happy Halloween 🎃

The members、had a Halloween party

At Ishida-san's house ❤️

Ishida-san made us dinner

And us members brought lots of snacks

Which we are while playing Mario Party！

This is me (Last place)

Me and Riley were like ships in the night

Because she arrived after I left for work

So I'm sad I didn't get to see her

But I still had fun 🥺

(T/N News and information has not been translated)

☁️🎀Today's 2 choices🎀☁️

How are you when replying to emails or LINE messages

Fast？Slow？

For reading until the very end

Thank you very much ❤️

Please come by again tomorrow！

We've had a very exciting October 🎃

Really thank you very much！

See ya 🐾

[hotarutranslations]

I'm Home----!

Evening

The live in my hometown, Miyagi---💙

Thank you very much! It was super duper fun!

Everyone---!

I'm sure there are impressions other than, Shoulder blades (or rather the back)---!?

😂lolol

Today a bit in the flow of things, I showed off too much

Thank you very much for your time

I've never seen it on such a big screen so ←

I also laughed

Although I haven't trained at! all! My shoulder blade may have a large range of motion I reallyyyy moved them! Shoulder blades

When dancing, I dance while thanking my shoulder blades (that's a lie)

Don't draw attention to ittttt---🫣💥 lol

I was conscious of doing blue-ish make up but, I wonder if you can tell in the photo~~~

I also enjoyed today of course,

All of the fans, Surely stirred up the excitementtttt it was fun to raise the hurdle🤭 fufu

I was really looking forward, to being welcomed back after it had been a while,

Even though the hurdle was high lol

When it starts, that is before the start,

Comfortably!

I thought it was more heated and exciting than I thought❤️‍🔥

It was like, that's Miyagi~~ lol

Therefore, everyone was also amazing! You surpassed my fighting spirit! lol I also had to thank you for that! It would have been nice to talk about it as well in the last MC…😂 (I was having fun chattering)

It was really fun in the blink of an eye!

Getting to have a live in my hometown,

I say, I'm home-- to be welcomed back by so many people,

Its really a luxury

Therefore I'm soaking it in with all my power😌🍀

Everyone as well, did you enjoy it

I wrote about how the make up was but, I remember being completely sweaty by the 2nd song← It was hot---!

Miyagi was good~~~~~~~~❤️‍🔥

In fall,

We'll be in Miyagi on October 7th, Chel's birthday, Also we're also having a performance in Iwate the day after on the 8th!

By all means come, ok

Come and experience it, ok

Its a space I'm proud of!!

Everyone was happy with our gifts Taking pictures with everyone as well, They were cute, I'm thankful for today☺️❤️

Thank you very much for the lots of calls🥹❤️‍🔥

see you ayumin <3

[lovedmagic]

BIO.

BASICS.

Name. Chelia Acelin Blendy

Age. 19, verse dependent.

Birthday | Zodiac. 19th October X774 | Libra

Nicknames. Chel | Chelly | Sky Goddess | Sky Slayer 

Alias. Sherria

Ethinicity. ½ Bisconian, ½ Fiorean/Ishgarian

Languages Spoken. Bilingual - French and English (or canon equivalents)

Race. Human/wizard

Orientation. Pansexual (preference for femininity)

Occupation. Guild mage, Lamia Scale

Gender & Pronouns. Female | She/Her

PHYSICAL.

Height. 5'3"

Faceclaims. Chelia Blendy (main) / Ruby Kurosawa (child)

Hair. Bubblegum pink, usually worn in twin pigtails or buns. Always accessorised with ribbons. Heavy, messy bangs. Textured curls, 3B.

Eyes. Cornflower blue

Appearance. Tan skinned, and still holding onto the stubborn chubby cheeks of childhood. Very round: round eyes, round lips, round nose. Undeniably cute. A stark contrast to her abilities. 

Build. Broad shouldered and petite, a layer of softness over hard earned muscles. Deceptive, short in stature but has grown into her adult self. Wide hips, thick built thighs. Falling past simply ‘athletic’ or toned, Chelia is developing the build of an athlete - someone who dedicates their life to their work.

Attire. Enjoys cute aesthetics and flowing fabrics. Lots of ribbons and pleats, flouncy skirts and blouses. Key colours are pink, blue, white and orange; borderline pastels. Loves socks and knee-to-thigh highs. Hardy boots and shoes for practibility, and shorts always under skirts. Used to have an affinity for gloves, but has since traded them in after consistent damage in battle. Better to have her hands free. No jewellery - ever. Too much risk of harm. Her attire always leaves freedom of movement.

Voice. High and light, cheerful and optimistic. Prone to stuttering due to the speed of her speech, talking over herself and tripping over her words. Hollow in desperation, defeat. 

Tattoos. One, on the outside of her calf bearing a green Lamia Scale mark. 

Scars. None. Her healing magic leaves no trace, even to pre-existing scars and burns. 

Misc. Her body is a mess; her bones a mismatched assortment of hastily fixed fractures and breaks. Her magic is the thing holding her together: she’s too reckless for her own good, too reliant on her self healing ability. She’ll break herself just to fix herself in the same moment, if only to get the full strength behind a hit. She’s a fighter, yet outwardly her body bears no sign.

Dominant Hand. Right

PERSONAL.

Disorders & Diseases. Dispraxia, severe depression, anxiety

Phobias. Athagoraphobia (fear of abandonment)

Personality Type. ENFJ, the campaigner

Positive: Loyal, determined, brave, energetic, friendly, outgoing, trusting, caring, supportive, confident, selfless.

Negative: Loud, selfish, headstrong, stubborn, conceited, vain, two faced, dramatic, secretive, prideful, emotional.

Moral Alignment. Chaotic Good

Info. Chelia is an extremely proud character; her entire self worth being built up on and reliant on her magic prowess. She is proud and confident in her abilities, and knows what she’s capable of. She may be ditzy and clumsy, but she is by no means stupid: she’s a child prodigy through and through, and has grown well past every expection ever set of her. Even upon her first introduction in the Grand Magic Games, she was made out to be an extremely competant mage, having earned Lamia Scale’s trust. However, she is still a young adult; and an extremely flawed one at that. She is a mess of contradictions, and is working through the standards and expectations placed upon her at an extremely impressionable age.

Most importantly: she is a damn Blendy. While her relationship with Sherry isn’t what she imagined, that and her love for her parents have instilled a huge pride for her name. She will never be forgetable, and her time in Lamia Scale has only encouraged her ego. Lamia is a guild of incredible mages, and Chelia prides herself in being one of them. Her pride is her greatest asset, and her biggest downfall. She will volunteer for every job to prove a point, and will take on tasks that are believed to be beyond her skill level. She is forever growing and improving, and she makes a point to have this be known. She will never be a pushover: she’s incredibly gifted, with an abundance of magic within her - and is not to be underestimated. She’s cocky, arrogant and will laugh when she walks over an opponent. She’s made an act out of her outward appearance, and uses it to her advantage. She’s intelligent, and anyone who forgets this will learn what a danger she is.

She is a loving and respectful girl, but this is only reserved to those who have earned the right. The same way she earned Lamia’s respect, others have to earn hers. Only to those who she respects will she ever accept defeat; acknowledge as a force above her who she will step down for. She wont fight just to win: she’s no value in pointless battles, and finds the act in itself heartless. She’s no bully. She will stand for what she believes in, and will force herself to be the last one standing if that’s what’s needed.

Chelia is a true performer: she knows how to work a crowd and to play to her advantages. She shines in tournaments and the like, but she is not deluded. She devotes her time and energy into causes she sees as worth. She is a loving girl, her respect her highest praise, but she is still a god slayer. Her confidence is what carries her, and when she does fulfill her magic and defeats a living god; she does so because she knows she’s the ONLY one who can do it. She is Lamia’s secret, and possible Ace upon her introduction, and she remains a strong force in her existence.

Importantly, she is not perfect: more than anything she is Icarus. Her pride will be her killer, but she won’t stop until she reaches the sky.

FAMILY.

Mother. Ever Blendy, nee Arkos (deceased)

Father. Garth Blendy (alive, missing)

Siblings. N/A

Other Relatives. Sherry Blendy (alive)

Significant Other. N/A (verse dependant)

Info. Has never met any other Blendys, and only found out about Sherry’s existence after the Galuna Island incident. From here, she was determined to find her only remaining family.

SKILLS.

Magic: Sky God Slayer.

Sky God Slayer is an ancient, and incredibly rare form of elemental magic, created with the intent to slay gods. It is akin to the famous Dragon Slayer magic, though an advanced form, which when mastered has been proved to defeat gods by Chelia herself. She is able to manipulate and create air currents, black and feather-like in appearance once manifested. She is able to power great blunt force behind her attacks, and is able to speed herself up with the air currents. Like the dragon slayers, Chelia can ingest the air around her (read: eat, not breathe) to replenish her strength and magic reserves. 

While she is not able to magically buff herself like Wendy’s Sky Dragon Slayer magic, she is able to enhance her natural strength by manipulating the air around her to give herself extra momentum and force.

Being a Sky Elemental Slayer (God/Dragon/Demon[assumed]), Chelia can use healing magic. This can heal all physical wounds and injuries at an extremely accelerated pace, and can be used on herself as well as others. This magic can cure poisons and the like, but at a much slower rate. Her healing can be used in conjunction with her physical and magic attacks, meaning she can heal while taking damage and preparing spells of her own.

Enhanced Endurance.

Chelia posseses great physical stamina, and this is due both to her magic, as well as physical training. She can use numerous spells in succession without too much effort.

Hand-to-Hand Combat.

Due to her training, Chelia has learned various forms of unarmed hand-to-hand combat to enhance her magic. With her magic leaving her vulnerable, she decided to put time into learning how to fight with her body so that she can apply her magic in a wider variety of ways. She has found that she naturally leans to fighting with kicks/her legs, though isn’t averse to punches. With this, she can fight at both melee and range.

Enhanced Agility.

Chelia is a very agile mage, aided by her magic. She is able to duck and dodge attacks with relative ease, expending her own magic to do so, and can even jump to great heights by using the air around her.

Enhanced Durability.

With her magic being an elemental Slayer type, Chelia possesses enhanced durability and can takeheavy damage to her person as a result. However, this is made even more powerful but her hastened healing, and she can heal while taking damage; negating lesser damage.

Ballet.

In her time at boarding school, Chelia undertook dance classes and found herself excelling at ballet. Because of this dancing, she is extra agile, and often uses her flexbility and lyricalilty in battle.

TIMELINE/BIOGRAPHY.

Birthplace. Luna Village, Iceberg

Family Residence. Papillion Town, Bosco

Current Residence. Margaret Town, Fiore

History. TBA

TRIVIA.

Chelia joined Lamia Scale aged 11.

After her mother’s death, Chelia went to a boarding school where she studied water magic.

She is extremely intelligent, skipping a few grades in school and graduating early. Her magical prowess earned her a visit from the Magic Council’s Gran Doma who gifted her with a book about Sky God Slayer, not ever expecting her to be able to learn it.

Chelia taught herself singlehandedly how to master Sky God Slayer.

During the fight with Dimaria, and accessing her third origin; Chelia’s magic was lost permanently, and this changed her as a person. With her entire being shaped around her magic, she had to learn how to live without it and it changed her into someone new.

Also during this fight, she killed Dimaria and her god soul. It was somewhat involuntary: by nature, Chelia’s magic at its full potential was made to kill the likes of her. However, a smaller part of her wanted to kill her. She’d caused so much pain to the people of Fiore, that Chelia couldn’t let her go.

Chelia’s ‘love’ for Lyon is simply admiration, a feeling she confused for puppy love when she first came to Lamia. Lyon was the first person to see her potential, and as such she latched onto him in her young age. During the Grand Magic Games, she realises the fault in her emotions and corrects her view of him.

[alwayshifting]

☆ –– ( lizeth selene, they/he, nonbinary ) who is chelsea ruiz anyways? ew. you don’t know about them, we’ll bet you want to. they’re feeling 27 and designing tattoos feels like a perfect night to them. rumor has it they’re self-destructive and short-tempered because they care, but they’re also quick-witted and  self-sufficient in the best way. he works to make a little money as a tattoo artist. they’ve rented on a place on cornelia street in the form of an apartment. august is the song they could dance to the beat of forevermore. 

──── 𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑺 .

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄. chelsea leah ruiz. 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒. chels. 𝐀𝐆𝐄. twenty-seven. 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘. october 26, 1995. 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄. scorpio sun , sagittarius moon , virgo asc 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑. nonbinary. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒. they/them ; he/him. 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. bisexual, greyromantic. 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏. ambiamorous. 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒. august ( muse b ) .

──── 𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬 .

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌. lizeth selene. 𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑. brown. 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑. black, though they dye it often. 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄. generally down. 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. 5'3. 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂(𝐒). n/a. 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄. alternates between masculine styles ( crop tops , shorts , jeans , combat boots ) & feminine fashion ( short skirts , long socks , heels , turtlenecks , dresses ). 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. both ears, once ; septum & left nostril piercing. 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒. they are covered in tattoos, far more than they can keep up with.

──── 𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷𝑺 .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. sophia ruiz & ( tbd. ) 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. omar ruiz-osman. 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑(𝐒). tba. 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑(𝐒). james grey ( august muse a ). 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. tba.

──── 𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀 .

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆. tongues & teeth by the crane wives. 𝐏𝐎𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒. hopeful, determined, quick-witted, && self-sufficient. 𝐍𝐄𝐆 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒. self-destructive, short-tempered, addictive, && rebellious. 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄. acts of service. 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. chaotic good.

──── 𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑺 .

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓. here. 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. here.

──── 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺 .

- they have thrown around many names during their journey with their gender - they just keep going back to chels because it's easy & feels safe. they have seriously considered the name mateo though. - they are always willing to do things, regardless if it's a good idea or not. the number of stick 'n' poke tattoos they have given themself is proof of this. - they were diagnosed with adhd when they were about ten, spacing off in the middle of class rather than paying attention. as an adult, they're dragging their feet to address the elephant in the room - the sudden and abrupt unmasking that is making them realize that maybe things are a little more serious than some issues focusing. - they have a rescue dog named georgina ; they're pretty sure she's a german shepherd-chow mix, but they were also pretty sure she was a george when they first named her. either way, she's their emotional support, and a lot of their spare money gets funneled into her.

[missmeasured]

The Stars on The Staircase Chapter 34- Forever Alone With Our Secrets

At last I have a new chapter of The Stars on The Staircase for you all! Read it on Ao3 or on Wattpad.

As we turn down the path that leads to the ending we stop to look back on where it all began and that begs the question, what does it all mean? In this chapter we get a flashback from Severus which I originally intended as a bonus chapter but as I started thinking about where the story was going I felt like including it because it shows how from the beginning they were isolated in a way, just by the having the secret of their feelings for each other.

(I would be remiss not to thank Chel for everything from spell checking to being a snaddy confessional booth.)

For a preview I have chosen the beginning of Severus’s memory which is Halloween Night, the night before Chapter one aka the night before the bathtub.

The Memory of Severus Snape October 31st 1989

Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her. Was the repeated refrain in my mind during the annual Halloween dance. An interesting deviation from the usual ‘ this is insufferable’ that was my normal repetition . I acted as chaperone on the edge of the room of giddy students, trying to watch without looking at one specific student.

I didn't really need to look. She was thinking about dancing with me. I could see her in her own mind’s eye. There was no reason to get caught looking at her, when she supplied a version of herself straight to my mind. I would be caught if I looked, because she never stopped looking at me.

Suddenly her daydream of dancing with me is interrupted. A fast song, her friends have pulled her onto the dance floor. Now it’s probably safe to glance. Fuck. Even now, in the crush of the entire student body jumping and shimmying, our eyes lock into each other.

I break eye contact just in time to save the punch bowl from tampering. “Mister McPherson, surely you aren't about to add any unsanctioned liquids to that bowl. Given your history with potion making, I think we can both agree it would be unwise to attempt it.” I threaten and the boy scurries off.

I don’t turn back to the dance floor for fear of accidentally looking at her again. I keep my eyes on the punch. That’s my job. I sigh and stare into the depths of the bowl. Then my eyes catch on the dress of the person getting themselves a glass. Gold stars on navy blue fabric, the ultimate irony.

I look up at her. Standing either side of this aggressively decorated punch table I finally look directly at the source of my stress. My chest hurts, swallowing seems difficult. Why does she have to be so beautiful all of a sudden?

It had been almost a whole school week of suddenly admiring the way her nose looks from the side, the way her eyes change when she’s smiling or asserting herself. In fact, I’m quite sure I knew absolutely nothing about her personality before Monday, but now I was following conversations with her and being needlessly proud when she did not allow herself to be stepped on. I am extremely certain that before Monday I never found the colour of her hair to be worthy of notice, let alone the way it looked in different lights.

I wasn’t sure where to look at her, her expectant face, her lips scrunching up in preparation for expulsion of words, this was entirely too cute so I looked down. I forced my eyes not to linger on her breasts, her waist or her hips though my eyes did have such a tendency to want to cling there.

Her calves and ankles, beautiful too. So frequently I had forced my eyes down there, I was worried I had become obsessed with them. The way the swoop of her leg came in at the ankle bone had so often been studied by my eyes in an attempt not to look anywhere else that I positively salivated with the need to kiss those ankle bones.

“Happy Halloween, Professor.” Greets the girl I was absolutely not meant to think about the way I was constantly thinking about. I looked at her face and tried to respond. My mind was empty of the usual inane platitudes, I could only think to demand an array of photographs of her. I wanted to see twenty five of her from the week before this to compare to now. What had happened to her? Was this a problem in my own mind? Was this a beguiling kind of magic?

Surely she did not look like this before this week. Was she part Veela or something? I didn’t think their magic was so active as to produce stars, more a passive effect. Surely if she was part Veela we would have all been warned of this, to help prevent her from getting into trouble from the unwanted attention of others.

I become aware I am staring at her face, not answering her. What had she said? I can’t handle her eyes so I turn and leave without saying anything to her.

“He thinks you’re a big creep. Won't even speak to you for fear of encouraging you and your stupid unhinged affections.” She scolds herself in her head. I cringe at making her think she is the problem. I am most definitely the problem, as only one of us is strictly not supposed to be having these feelings.

I go find Charity and ask to trade places. I would rather supervise the haunted hallway and send nasty illusions through the floating black curtains to frighten students than watch them wrapping their arms around each other. The haunted corridor does not bring relief, other than not hearing her thoughts. I’m still churning with the picture of her in my mind. Why did there have to be a school dance this week, why did she have to be out of uniform? I’m going to be tortured with mental images of her all night. I just know it.

I take out my tension on several students who don't see me as I linger in the darkness, sending images of demons and monsters to chase them away from my spot in the middle of the corridor.

“Violet! Violet!? Don’t leave me alone in here.” Her voice is so recognizable to me now. I find my feet walking toward it.

“Violet I love you… but I cant fucking belive you ditched me in here to snog Daniel Smith. I dont mind your slutty behaviour except when I turn around in a creepy haunted house and you’re fucking gone!”

I walk past the place her friends are tangled up in an alcove. I should take points or separate them, but I’m too busy looking for her in the black swaths of fabric Flitwick and Charity have charmed to shift around this corridor like moving walls of darkness.

“Violet!” She whispers angrily. I find her, but keep away. I can see her through one of the fabric drapes. I can feel how scared she is through our new connection. At first it perplexes me but then I understand, she hates being startled. Her nerves about finding something in the maze that jumps out seemed to have her not really moving forward.

There’s a growl from the other side of her, just one of many illusions and charms set up in here. She turns to move away from it and I don’t have time to shift position before she comes crashing into me. She almost screams as she runs into me, but suddenly her head snaps up and we’re looking at each other again. This time in the dark, surrounded by gray floating cloth and silly cackling laughter noises, demons roaring and music designed to make your hair stand on end.

“It’s him…Why is he everywhere? This wouldn't be half as hard if he didn’t show up around every corner!” She thought. She had run into me with her hands outstretched and for just a couple of seconds her fingers tangle into the front of my outer robes, sink into the fullness that falls from my shoulders, and I can feel her taking in the texture before she snaps her hands back away from me in a moment of awareness.

[thedissociatives]

10 songs 10 people ! tagged by @whitenikes thnx :) hope i got this right (also i definitely do not have 10 ppl to tag lol but i'll try to get as close to that as i can)

without me by eminem - used to listen to this whole album in the car with my mum all the time when i was like 3 lol one of my fav songs that she showed me

stuck in the middle with you by stealers wheel - have had this stuck in my head for like a month it's so bad. do not even need to say where i first heard it we all know

love from the other side by fall out boy - was so hyped for this to come out cuz i knew it meant a new album and it did not disappoint ! fav fob song they've released since ab/ap cannot wait for the album

don't dream it's over by crowded house - yeah yeah yeah i get half my music taste from films and tv what about it. heard it on the americans in october when i watched like the whole show in a month and now it's on most of my playlists

break by fugazi - one of my fav songs when i was 14 that i rediscovered recently. don't have the best memories tied to it but now i can create new ones w it instead :) cuz i haven't rlly listened to much of em the past few years and i can't let a bad time stop me from enjoying music i like

i can tell there was an accident here earlier by saosin - my all time fav band and their fav song of mine ! remember having to go on youtube for ages to listen to it before they put it on spotify. ngl the demo sounds way better the vibes just aren't quite the same on the spotify version

bathroom light by mt joy - i guess i couldn't escape the nolan patrickification of hockeytwt haha i do rlly like them now tho (want to see them when they play london next summer but 1. it's the day after my exams finish and i'll be too tired and 2. i don't have anyone to go with)

one way or another by blondie - mean girls my beloved <3 sorry to literally everyone but that's where i first heard this song. the soundtrack of that film is so good tho i'm glad this is on it otherwise idk how i would've found it

я сошла с ума by tatu - poppy's cover of the english version of this song is one of the best covers out there imo but nothing beats the original. it hits so different in russian too even though i don't understand most of it (but the bits that i do ? omg)

i hear you calling by gob - think this song is on an old chel soundtrack which is cool. one of the many bands i got into through looking at old tour posters (eternally grateful i figured out i could do that when i was 12 i've found so many good bands this way). this whole album is fuckin amazing but the guitar riff in this song is soo nice. always gets stuck in my head

(@smolpieceoftoast @memphisbelle @fagdeniro @fiftysecondstreet @emuchipmunk @rocket-eighty-eight plus like. anyone else who wants to do this)

[glimmerofawesome]

Proper Chels.

[chelseaxlee]

name: chelsea lee age: 27 birthdate: october 24, 1995 faceclaim: adeline rudolph occupation: tattoo artist & owner of celestial ink neighborhood: westside gender & preferred pronouns: nonbinary ; they/them. sexuality: bisexual, demiromantic. positive: loyal, open-minded, sincere, hard-working. negative: disorganized, pessimistic, impulsive, stubborn. playlist | pinterest

There were seven years where their life seemed almost ideal. Both parents were regularly present, though their father worked nights at the pub and their mother spent her days off doing god knows what. Chelsea still isn’t sure what it was, but whatever it was turned into the reason why their parents divorced. Their mother left them with their father and bolted from half moon bay to the other side of the country. They’ve not heard from her since.

They were an artistic child, notes brimming with doodles more than actual notes. In a way, it’s a wonder they ever passed their classes with higher than a C. They know they’re lucky that they were able to turn it into a career, let alone one where people wind up wearing their art. It’s a point of pride.

Perhaps it’s no surprise, but in middle school, they were diagnosed with ADHD. Their father shrugged it off, and they learned how to self-medicate with too much caffeine and various copying of notes from their friends. As an adult, they’re trying to learn how to navigate it properly.  

Chelsea spent much of their teen years being self-sufficient, cooking every night and cleaning the house on the weekends while their father worked, doing their best so he could come home and rest. It was never asked of them, but it was something they did nevertheless. Leftovers would keep after all.

They worked all sorts of jobs in high school, from cashier to cook to waiter. Sometimes, Chels worked two or three jobs at once. They rarely slept as it was, so they figured they might as well make money from it.

Such decisions took a toll on their body. Their memory, while already poor, suffered, along with their ability to multitask. They started failing classes, forgetting about shifts. Their father intervened and sat them down, drawing lines in the sand. One job or none, that was the only choice. 

They listened, going down to just babysitting and working as a cashier at the grocery store. They saved every dime and nickel they could, money shoved in jars and drawers. Their father insisted they do, and he refused every offer to help make ends meet. The money was theirs, not his. 

 They moved out of their father's house at 20, using the money they saved. They still spend much of their days off over there, cleaning and cooking just as they once did. But this time, it's more meal prepping than anything. 

A night of drunken mistakes found them - of all things - pregnant. While they considered every option available, they decided to keep the pregnancy. It’s not a decision they regret, with their two-year-old daughter, Alex, being the absolute light of their life. 

Fairly recently, within the last few years, they opened Celestial Ink. They made it a priority to have it be well-lit with no loud music, and private rooms instead of a shared workspace. They are always working to create more of a safe space in their studio, using ideas from other parlors striving to do the same.

They never meant to stay where they grew up, as they always thought they’d be more likely to travel. But they don’t necessarily regret it. Celestial Ink feels more like home than anywhere they could have gone and for now? That’s enough.

[we-players]

We're debuting our hybrid installation performance art piece on the grounds of Cal Shakes this September!

Inspired by the Mayan Goddess Ix Chel, Our Lady of the Moon is a meditation on the natural cycles of the tides and lunar phases.

Purchase tickets to either Mother Lear or As You Like It to experience this dynamic installation on the Cal Shakes grounds between September 13 and October 2. Or plan to have an audience with the Goddess herself on these select occasions!

Friday, September 13, 6 - 7:15PM Friday, September 20, 6 - 7:15PM Sunday, September 22, 11:30AM-12:30PM Friday, September 27, 6 - 7:15PM Saturday, September 28, 6 - 7:15PM Sunday, September 29, 11:30AM-12:30PM

Learn more

[cleoenfaserum]

Sympathy for the Devil

Part One: The Golden Peacock

SCOTT RITTER (DEC 27. 2023) source

Lucifer cast down from Heaven

LISTEN Y / OR READ...

The air on top of the Sinjar mountains can get nippy in the month of October, especially late in the day, when the sun begins to sink on the horizon, allowing the temperature to drop below 60 degrees Fahrenheit. Rising to a height of 4,800 feet, the 62-mile-long mountain range looms over the desert of northwester Iraq like a massive monolith. The mountain range and its surrounding environs is home to the Yazidi, a Kurdish people who trace their origins back to Biblical times, claiming to be created directly from Adam, as opposed to the rest of humanity, who were born of Eve. The Yazidi also practice one of the most unique and complex religions in the world today, a monotheistic belief system which combines ancient Kurdish and Persian beliefs with the three Abrahamic faiths (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) that was founded in the 12th century by the Sufi Muslim Sheikh Adi.

885-5 https://youtu.be/RF7X_N_r1Fo

In late October 1993, I found myself on the top of Sinjar Mountain. I was leading a large team of United Nations weapons inspectors on a major inspection which had as its primary mission the discovery of locations in Iraq believed by the CIA to have been involved in the hiding of SCUD missiles the United Nations had been tasked with accounting for in their entirety, ensuring that they had all been either destroyed, dismantled, or rendered harmless in accordance with the provisions of relevant Security Council resolutions. The Iraqis had fired some 49 SCUD missiles at targets inside Israel during the 1991 Gulf War, perhaps better known as Operation Desert Storm. I had played a role in a failed effort to interdict the Iraqi SCUD missiles before they could be launched — the Iraqis were able to hit Israel up until the last days of the war without suffering a single loss.

Aerial photograph showing the UN airfield on top Sinjar Mountain in relation to the Chel Mera Temple

The team I assembled was the largest in the history of the United Nations disarmament effort in Iraq — more than 75 persons drawn from more than a dozen nations — including elite special forces from the United States, UK, and France. The team also included members of the CIA paramilitary team that had observed the suspicious truck convoys, and a helicopter detachment flown by aircrew from the US Army’s ultra-secret Flight Concepts Division, responsible for flying deniable covert missions around the world. Supporting a team of this size was a challenge, so I enlisted the help of the German Air Force detachment that flew in support of the UN weapons inspection effort. The operation around Sinjar was scheduled to take several days, so I set up a command-and-control center on top of Sinjar Mountain, which doubled as an expeditionary helicopter landing zone, accommodating the German CH-53 and American Bell-412 helicopters.

Midway through the Sinjar Mountain inspection, I found myself with time on my hands. The ground teams which had surrounded the mountain were putting in for the night, having established observations posts that would enable them to monitor any movement around the mountain using night vision optics. The Bell-412 helicopters flown by the pilots from Flight Concepts Division were being outfitted with forward-looking infra-red (FLIR) pods, which would enable them to flight night observation missions around the mountain and respond to any suspicious activity the ground teams might detect.

After making sure all teams had reported in, and the helicopter crews had finished their preparations, I decided to take a walk toward an abandoned Iraqi military communications facility situated to the east of the UN airstrip. Pre-inspection studies of aerial imagery had revealed the existence of a Yazidi temple which, upon further investigation, was found to be named Chel Mara, or “Forty Men,” in honor of the bodies of 40 Yazidi men said to be buried on the temple grounds.

885-4 https://www.youtube.com/shorts/DjNsflcGuCM?feature=share

Music has been an important part of my life’s journey, and looking back on six decades of experience, I often find myself linking specific events to a soundtrack that plays in my mind whenever the memories come flooding back. This linkage is not created post-facto, but rather from the moment of inception; that is, the song that was playing in my mind at the time of the event became the soundtrack.

As I approached the entrance to the Chel Mera Temple, the cool wind kicking up the dust from where my boots struck the ground, I was overtaken by the sound of drums beating ominously, followed by a cacophony of shouts, grunts, and other utterances, before Mick Jagger’s voice exploded in my head:

Please allow me to introduce myself

I’m a man of wealth and taste

I’ve been around for a long, long years

Stole many a man’s soul and faith

885-3 https://youtu.be/Jwtyn-L-2gQ

The linkage between the classic Rolling Stone’s song, Sympathy for the Devil, and my exploration of the Chel Mera Temple, was no accident or coincidence: I was approaching a place of worship, where the Yazidi people would come to pray to Tawûsî Melek, the “Peacock Angel,” whom the Yazidi believe to be the leader of the seven angels created by God who was cast down to earth in the form of a peacock to confront and vanquish the forces of evil.

According to the Yazidi, Tawûsî Melek was ordered by God to bow down and worship Adam, since Adam was God’s creation. Tawûsî Melek refused this order, stating that he, Tawûsî Melek, was God’s original creation, born of eternal light, unlike Adam, who could be reduced to dust. Because of his impudence, Tawûsî Melek was cast into Hell, where he resided for 40,000 years, until his tears extinguished the fires of his underworld prison, an act which reconciled him with God. From the perspective of the Yazidi faithful, Tawûsî Melek had passed God’s test, and in doing so, was revealed as an obedient and devoted follower of God, void of sin, and as such the perfect intermediary between mankind and the divine.

As I stepped over the threshold of the temple, entering the structure, I was struck by the presence of dozens of pieces of red, green, purple, and yellow silk cloth suspended from the ceiling. The Yazidi offer prayers to Tawûsî Melek so that he might convey their message to God. These prayers are made in private, inside the sanctuary of the temple, and manifest themselves in the form of a knot that is tied on pieces of silk which hang suspended from the roof of the temple. The Yazidi, when offering a prayer, would tie a knot in the silk, “capturing” their prayer, and then untie a knot left by another, thereby “releasing” it so that their prayer could be answered.

The Chel Mera Temple, on top of Mount Sinjar, Iraq

Inside, there was evidence of recent human activity, including the presence of offerings of food, water, and flowers laid throughout the room. The air smelled of incense, some of which was still smoldering in stone receptacles, and the light from oil lamps cast eerie, flickering shadows across the dome ceiling, darkened by years of accumulation of soot.

My head brushed into the silk hanging down from the ceiling, and I could feel the knotted cloth as it contacted my face. I touched the suspended material, feeling its texture in my hand, before my fingers closed in on one of the knots. For a moment, I toyed with the idea of making a wish myself and tying a knot. But as I reached up my other hand to carry out this task, Mick Jagger’s voice once again intruded into my mind:

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guess my name

885-2 https://youtu.be/GgnClrx8N2k

I released the silk, suddenly overcome by a dark panic. Backing away from the burning incense, lighted lamps, and the urns carrying the various offerings to Tawûsî Melek, I got to the entrance, where I pivoted, tripped on the raised sill located there, and stumbled out of the structure, the sweat on my face immediately chilled in the cool breeze that wafted across the mountain top. I looked down at my hand, and noticed it was trembling.

“You idiot,” I said to myself. “You almost offered a prayer to the Devil.”

Tawûsî Melek is no ordinary angel. And his story is not unique to the Yazidi. In the Bible, one can find reference to the angel “born of eternal light” in Isaiah 14:12: “How you are fallen from heaven, O shining one, son of the morning! How you are cut down to the ground, You who weakened the nations!”

Early Christians shared some of the foundational beliefs regarding Tawûsî Melek, believing he had fallen from the grace of God due to his association with humans. However, rather than seeing Tawûsî Melek as a defender of humankind, the early Christians believed the fallen angel envied humans, as evidenced by his refusal to prostrate himself before Adam, his pride in loving himself more than others manifesting itself in hatred for the happiness of others.

Saint Augustine by Philippe de Champaigne

Saint Augustine of Hippo, second only to Paul of Tarsus in terms of influencing the dogma and doctrine of the Catholic and Orthodox Christian Churches, rejected the notion that Tawûsî Melek’s envy of Adam was the original sin, instead pointing to the angel’s free will in seeking to seize God’s throne to become God-like in the world of man.

Rembrandt van Rijn (and Workshop?) (Dutch, 1606 - 1669 ), The Apostle Paul, c. 1657, oil on canvas

I turned and looked back at the Chel Mera Temple, its white conical minaret framed in the setting sun. I was a Marine, and unaccustomed to the fear that had overtaken me. If I walked away, I thought to myself, I was surrendering to fear.

I walked back to the temple entrance, steeled myself, and stepped back inside, taking in my surroundings.

I focused on the silk cloth, and the knots they contained, each representing a separate conversation with Tawûsî Melek. I examined each on in detail, reflecting on the nature of the wishes one might ask of the “Peacock Angel.” It struck me that the requests would be similar of prayers offered by man to any deity — for health, for wealth, for happiness, for success. In many ways, these prayers echoed the temptations of Jesus, as detailed in Matthew 4:1–11. But the entity that tempted Jesus wasn’t Tawûsî Melek — or at least that is not what the bible named him.

He was the Devil, Satan…Lucifer.

Just as every cop is a criminal

And all the sinner’s saints

As heads is tails

Just call me Lucifer

’Cause I’m in need of some restraint

The Golden Peacock on the wall of the Chel Mera Temple

Tawûsî Melek.

Lucifer.

“I see you,” I thought to myself. “I know who you are.”

UN Bell 412 helicopter flown by Flight Concepts Division pilots, with ground penetrating radar sets mounted

I responded by coming up with an inspection concept of operations which incorporated ground penetrating radars mounted on helicopters. The United Nations, I said, was prepared to investigate the US intelligence claims, but first the US had to provide the radars. Several million dollars later, we had assembled an inspection team which included the Bell 412 helicopters, with bulky ground penetrating radars attached, flown by the pilots from the Flight Concept Division.

The audacity of my plan caught the attention of the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC), home to both Delta Force and Flight Concepts Division, and the CIA’s Special Activities Staff, the paramilitary arm of the CIA’s covert operations division. JSOC was heavily involved in investigating the fate of Navy Lieutenant Commander Scott Speicher, who had been shot down over western Iraq on the first night of Operation Desert Storm. Initially believed to have been killed because of the shootdown, Speicher was later reclassified as missing in action. Some Qatari hunters claimed to have found wreckage of an aircraft that was in the vicinity where Speicher’s plane had gone down. Some of the suspected buried missile sites contained in the CIA intelligence were located near where the Qatari hunters spotted the wreckage, and JSOC debated briefing me on the intelligence and seeing it I would be willing to modify the inspection to permit Delta operatives embedded with the UN inspection to peel off and inspect the suspected wreckage site.

The CIA wanted to take advantage of the team I had built to investigate the Sinjar targets. This I readily agreed to. They also proposed that we use the unique capabilities contained in the team to conduct a surprise inspection of a facility in downtown Baghdad which, at the time of the proposed inspection, would have been hosting an emergency meeting of the Presidential committee assigned the task of hiding weapons of mass destruction from the UN inspectors. I had taken this proposal to the Executive Chairman of the Special Commission, a Swedish diplomat named Rolf Ekéus, who tentatively approved the plan pending more specific intelligence. In the end, the Secretary of State, Warren Christopher, balked at the plan, which he likened to an act of war.

Both JSOC and the CIA were very pleased with how the inspection was unfolding. We had not found any evidence of buried missiles, but it appeared as if the US had known that would be the outcome. Instead, we had inserted into Iraq the equivalent of a joint special operations task force which provided the US with a wide array of operational and intelligence-related options in dealing with a recalcitrant Iraq.

The JSOC/CIA plans did not mesh at all with the mandate of the United Nations inspection teams. But they could not bear fruit unless they were able to operate under the cover provided by the UN inspection teams. This is where I came in — I was being treated as their “inside guy,” the trusted associate who could “make things happen.”

It was an ego boost, to say the least. I was at the center of the universe when it came to resolving the most important US foreign and national security problem facing America at the time — Saddam Hussein’s Iraq. And I was being offered a seat at the table where I would play a critical role in planning and implementing the operations that would assist the US in solving this problem.

I was already being approached by the Flight Concepts Division pilots, who asked me to come up with inspection concepts where they could play a role. And a senior CIA Special Activities Staff operator was likewise grooming me for future inspection missions that made use of his personnel. The key to both opportunities was the need to sustain the notion of a non-compliant Iraq still believed to be armed with undeclared SCUD missiles.

All I had to do was file a report saying that the inspection mission was unable to adequately investigate the issue of hidden missiles, and that there was a need for more aggressive follow-on inspections. I had developed a good reputation within the United Nations as a capable inspector who remained loyal to the mission of the inspection teams and the Charter of the United Nations. This reputation, combined with the full support of the US government for whatever ideas I might come up with, would guarantee continued access to Iraq by JSOC commandos and CIA paramilitary operatives, who would be carrying out mission tasks totally unrelated to the mandate of the inspection teams.

Both JSOC and the CIA reminded me that I was an American first and foremost, and that there was no shame in violating a non-binding pledge to the United Nations to serve the national security interests of my country.

The “America first” argument was very persuasive — too persuasive, in fact. I was leaning toward going along with the JSOC/CIA plan. But there was one small fact that kept nagging at me — when I first joined the UN weapons inspection team, back in September 1991, I had traveled to Washington, DC, for a meeting with an interagency team comprising the State Department, the Department of Defense, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Defense Intelligence Agency, and the CIA. The purpose of the meeting was to set forth the “rules of the game,” so to speak, when it came to my work. I wanted the US government to commit to my mandate — did I work for the United Nations, or did I take orders from the US?

I was told in no uncertain terms that my job was to faithfully fulfill the mandate set forth under relevant Security Council resolutions.

And I had, up until the Sinjar inspection, assiduously remained true to that tasking.

But now I was being asked by my government to deviate from that undertaking.

To violate a pledge I had made to the UN and myself.

In the name of national security.

These thoughts were racing through my mind as I fixed my gaze on the golden Peacock.

You’re an American, a voice sounded in my head. Whether it was my own, or that of someone else — a CIA officer, JSOC operator…or Lucifer — I couldn’t say.

I gave my word, I countered in a voice that was less resolute.

You have no future at the United Nations, the voice announced, this time sounding like a senior UN administrator, who told me my aggressive style was incompatible with the staider culture of the international organization.

This is not a career, I responded. I have a job to do. Nothing more, nothing less.

You will be welcomed back with open arms, the voice cried out. There are great opportunities awaiting you.

I had no reply. I wanted so much to rejoin the community that had shaped my life in the decade leading up to my joining the United Nations. That experience defined me. I was an empty shell otherwise.

I am an American, I said to myself.

I am an American.

“Mr. Scott?”

My eyes broke contact with the golden Peacock, and I gathered my senses.

“Mr. Scott?” the voice repeated itself.

It was Karim, one of the Iraqi minders. He was outside the temple entrance, calling to me.

“I’m in here,” I replied.

“It is getting dark, Mr. Scott. It is not safe to be out here by yourself. We need to get back to the camp.”

The Sinjar Mountain region was home to Kurdish rebel groups opposed to the rule of Saddam Hussein. They had been fighting Iraqi authority for decades and had become emboldened following Iraq’s defeat in Operation Desert Storm. The inspection command post was collocated with an Iraqi Army camp whose soldiers were providing security for the inspection teams as they drove around the Sinjar massif.

I made my way to the exit, casting one last look at the golden Peacock.

Karim was an engineer who had spent many years working on the nascent Iraqi space program, building an indigenous satellite that Iraq had hoped to put into orbit using a space launch vehicle, the Al Abid, which used SCUD missile technology. The Al Abid exploded mid-air during its first and only test flight. Karim and the other engineers working on the project were transferred to Project 144, dedicated to modifying SCUD missiles for longer ranges. He worked there during Operation Desert Storm, supporting the Iraqi missile force as it squared off against a US-led coalition which had committed considerable resources to destroy Karim, the other Project 144 engineers, and the soldiers who operated the SCUD launchers.

I had been a part of that effort and had told Karim as much. He bore me no grudges and had emerged as one of the more forthright of the Iraqi escorts, trying hard to put the vast quantities of data the inspection team had collected into a proper perspective. In August 1992 I led an inspection of the Space Research Center, where Karim had worked. We uncovered a trove of documents that had been secreted away in the ceiling of one of the buildings. I treated the discovery as a “payday,” the hard-earned fruits of an intelligence-driven effort which had succeeded beyond our wildest expectations.

Karim laughed when he saw the documents. “These are not what you think they are,” he said. “These are my working papers. I don’t know why someone decided to hide them, but they contain nothing relevant to your work.”

Over the course of the next few days, Karim helped us make sense of our discovery, and by the end of the inspection I had come to accept his version of events. The US intelligence community had a different take, accusing me of accepting the Iraqi version without question. But they were not present during my conversations with Karim. There was nothing “soft” about my approach, and by the time we had finished, I had extracted more than enough fact-based information, linked to the very documents the CIA had tasked us with discovering.

Upon my return to the US, it became clear to me that what the US intelligence community resented the most was that I had exploited the documents outside of their span of control. They had plans for these documents, it seemed, which included breathing nefarious intent into their contents, and then leaking carefully picked information to the Security Council as a means of sustaining the American argument that Iraq was not complying with its obligation to disarm.

As it was, the US did use the documents to craft a narrative of Iraqi non-compliance which centered around intelligence reports about buried missiles. It was these reports which I sought to investigate with the ground-penetrating, radar-based inspections in the early fall of 1993, and which brought me to Sinjar Mountain and the Chel Mara Temple.

“You should not go in there, Mr. Scott,” Karim said as I exited the structure, looking at me disapprovingly.

“It is the place where Shaitan (Satan) resides. The Yazidi pray to him.”

We walked away from the temple. The sky had grown dark, and the stars were beginning to emerge in the evening sky.

“They are Devil worshippers.”

The wind had picked up, and I felt a shiver make its way down my spine. It could have been the chill of the night that produced this result.

Or it could have been the voice that continued to echo in my mind.

You are an American.

Do the right thing.

That night Karim and I rode on the FLIR-equipped Bell 412 helicopter, which had the task of flying security over the camps of the four inspection sub teams that had encircled Sinjar Mountain. I made radio contact with each sub team, making sure everything was in order. Afterwards, the Flight Concept Division pilots flew along the base of the massif, using the FLIR to investigate potential tunnel entrances carved into the mountain’s foundation.

We found none.

As we returned to the mountain air strip to put in for the night, the Bell 412 flew over the Chel Mara Temple site. The FLIR picked up the heat signature of Yazidi worshippers as they entered the temple to offer their prayers to the golden Peacock.

To Tawûsî Melek.

To Lucifer.

I see you, I said to myself, staring down at the temple.

I know who you are.

I know what you are trying to do.

I looked across to where Karim sat. He was staring at me. “Shaitan lives here, Mr. Scott,” he shouted over the sound of the helicopter rotors.

It was almost as if Karim knew about the voices in my head.

“Shaitan will offer you many temptations, Mr. Scott. But he is evil,” Karim shouted.

“He is evil.”

I returned to the UN Headquarters in New York, where I prepared my final report.

The Chief UN administrator tasked me with putting a budget together for the coming year. Weapons inspections were not cheap affairs, especially ones as large and complex as the missions I had been planning as of late.

This was my chance — I could lay the groundwork for a new round of confrontational inspections built around a core group of JSOC and CIA personnel simply by emphasizing that the results of the inspection were inconclusive, and that more intrusive inspections along the lines of the aborted raid on the Presidential committee responsible for hiding weapons of mass destruction.

You are an American.

Yes, I am, I replied. The US government instructed me to adhere to the mandate of the UN Security Council. That mandate was disarmament, not taking down the government of Saddam Hussein.

I am an American.

I am an American Marine.

And I will faithfully execute my orders to the best of my abilities.

“He is evil,” Karim had warned me.

But what’s puzzling you

Is the nature of my game

I know you, I said to the voice in my mind.

And I know your game.

The budget I submitted called for a transition away from confrontational inspections to missions linked to long-term monitoring of Iraqi industrial facilities.

The CIA and JSOC were not pleased.

Martin Indyk (left) and Bruce Reidel (right)

This was not the message James Woolsey wanted to hear. Both Indyk and Reidel thanked me for my briefing but told me that there would be no presentation for the Director. Charles Duelfer, the deputy executive chairman of the UN weapon inspection effort, accompanied Indyk and Reidel into the CIA Director’s office. Later, when Duelfer emerged, I was told that Woolsey dismissed my briefing and the underlying analysis behind its conclusion of Iraqi compliance.

“The official position of the CIA,” Woolsey told Duelfer, “is that Iraq retains an operational force of 12–20 SCUD missiles, and this number will never change, no matter what you do as inspectors.”

As Duelfer recounted his conversation with Woolsey to me later that day, I could hear Tawûsî Melek in my mind, mocking me.

You fool, he said, you could have had anything you desired. A door had been opened that led straight to the top of the national security apparatus of the United States. Woolsey had been waiting to anoint you as a key ally.

Now you are alone.

The golden Peacock was right — I was alone. The US government all but abandoned me, and the United Nations had likewise become nervous about the aggressive nature of my work. But I had remained true to myself and the principles and values that defined me as both an American and, more importantly, as a human.

And this was something that Tawûsî Melek, Lucifer, or Shaitan, could never take away from me.

[chelzone]

once A Life Thing happens later this year, ill try getting back into discord servers and other social things online a lot more. until then, i need to wait until The Next Chapter of me life before i can be in a good headspace for that stuff

ive got big big big things planned w/someone in terms of IRL stuff so once theyre in action AND done then ill be more at peace and ready to start a new stage of chel. a new stage of ME!!!

estimates are later this year, possibly around October but i cant say much yet! anxious and excited in regards to The Vague Thing and overall it'll be wonderful for me an such once its through