#cloud-hoper

[cloud-hoper]

(jour 1)

après la fin du monde avec un peu de chance il en existe un autre

pendant si longtemps j'ai profité de ce mois d'écriture pour tenter de mettre à plat, de raconter, de dire

tout ce qu'il s'était passé

je n'ai eu qu'un succès limité

car tout en disant il fallait continuer à ne pas dire

une ouverture morcelée, histoire socialement acceptable par abus admissible

l'écriture, ma thérapie personnelle

poésie, une fosse à purin pour faire des fleurs de mes peines

alors cette année le but est peut-être d'ouvrir un peu plus grand la porte

d'enfin oser mettre en mots les dernières années

la mauvaise sexualité, les abus, le silence, les agressions

d'arrêter de me cacher derrière mes poèmes

de creuser à pleine main la chair nue

d'y déraciner le silence qui m'a enserré le corps

de réaliser que je n'ai pas à vivre avec le poids de toutes ces années qui pressent sur ma gorge

que je ne mérite pas de mourir parce j'ai péché

que je n'ai pas à mentir pour me protéger

que cela n'efface pas ni mon histoire ni mon vécu

après la fin du monde avec un peu de chance il en existe un autre

un monde où je me tiens debout sur ma parole, debout de toute ma colonne

[azure-steel]

A Song of Lies and Blood

Closed starter for @ghostofnibelheim

He was born in the long summer, merely twenty one years young and already on his way to the darkness beyond. 

The Wall, they’d offered. Be it that or his head, they’d said. Of what other choices did he have?  Was this one better than death? He had to wonder.

He’d chosen to fight for the dragons… and was devoured by wolves.

Treasonous only for the fact that he had chosen wrongly. And only the wrong must spend the remainder of their days wasting away in the wilds of the uttermost north. Preferable in the moment than the alternative; his head looked far better on his shoulders than on display along the ramparts of the Red Keep.

Only the buck and sway of his horse kept Cloud Strife’s focus for now, the steady thump, thump, thump of hooves and footsteps as the caravan moved ever onwards to their miserable fate. A gaggle of no hopers; cut-throats and sexual deviants in their midst, to serve the realm as it were - out of sight, and out of mind. 

And the further north they reached, the colder the air became. Crisp on the tongue, heavy in the lungs. 

‘Be it the wall, boy. Or may the Gods have your head!’ 'The Dragon is dead, along with your honour!'

Surely it couldn’t be so bad… nothing so terrible as the monarchy crumbled, as the streets burned, hearing the people of King’s Landing screaming and dying, the smoke rising high to block out the sky. Never in the young soldier’s life had he imagined witnessing the fall of the Targaryen dynasty, forced to watch as the usurper's forces spilled through the gates and tore the city to shreds. 

An ever waking nightmare, a reality he would rather forget, a sin acquitted with this new found 'devotion' to serve as a brother of the Night’s Watch, to take the black and forge new alliances, serve the realm as the realm saw fit. 

To die amongst criminals sent to this lich yard of ice and abject misery. 

It had once been an honour to be a watcher on the Wall, how long had it been since the station itself had become a punishment? 

Cloud didn’t want to hazard a guess; a thought which drew his gaze along the gaggle of men bound for the northern tundra, to take in one last glimpse of the green and glitter of summer's growth as it would pass them by. 

At least until bright blue’s would settle once more along the glossy back of the man before him; long silver tresses shining in the sun like sheet metal, castle-forged steel, as light as a feather. The blade had caught his attention first - strangely shaped and foreign, not like any sword the blond had seen in his life. But the slip of cloth covering the man’s eyes had held his gaze for longer than he knew was good for him. 

What good was a blind man in the Night’s Watch? It hadn’t truly occurred to Cloud that the horse was possibly not steering itself. A well trained beast he thought, at least right then. But there was something strange about him, not for his lack of sight, not of the blade sheathed to his hip, nor the horse - so sturdy and as black as midnight. 

Curiosity caught Cloud queerly as he would dare to tap his feet into the sides of his mount to catch up to this perfect stranger, to brazenly stare into that dark cloth which would usually harbour a man’s gaze. 

“So what’s your deal then? Can't be much use to us if you can't bloody see.” Cloud asked, perhaps a little louder than he’d originally intended.

[lajeunefilleauxcheveuxblancs]

cloud-hoper a réagi à votre photo “Some paths take longer than others…” Après presque une année de...”

quel plaisir! heureuse de vous savoir de retour parmi nous :))

Merciiiii!!!!! :) <3

[crystaltale-official]

◈ Social Hierarchy ◈

⟡ ───────── ⟡

"Despicable isn't it? The leftover of the real world corrupted this world's purity. With it, the one high in the sky shone and clouded those who's below. Those serene rain are the tears of the voiceless. Drowned in the light by those who were chosen."

⟡ ───────── ⟡

ㅤ

For almost 2.000 years, both hoper and dreamer lived together but the question of violence and harmony came to the table. For a system needs to be called for maintaining order, keeping the flow of life turned around. Each era, each wheel, has its own unique design, complementing the needs of society. But is such a wheel is needed to make the world function or is it simply to make the light not reach the depth? The voiceless one amongst the cacophony light.

ㅤ

Throughout the history of the Crystal World, hierarchy is a part of the world's fundamental decided by the Crystar, Dragnar. Though it may not be perfect, the Crystar believed that every life has a role and that role must be fulfilled for the world to function.

For many eras, the system of the inhabitants changed as the great conflict amongst them forces the sudden change for their betterment of them.

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⬥ 𝕺𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖎𝖓

Origin era is where the first life of society was born. When the line between deity and mortal still runs through the inhabitants. In the origin era, the inhabitants were divided based on their divinity or the moment they were created and also colours.

In this era, both hopers and dreamers use titles to differentiate themselves from others. If someone uses their titles, it means that they requested the holder to act as their titles would be. It's also used when referring the title holder in a serious or respected matter.

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⬦ ℭ𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔩𝔰

Celestials are the guardian and God of the Crystal World. They're above the arches who maintain order in this world. The only known celestials inside the Crystal World is Dragnar, the Crystar and MoiRai, the Seraphim.

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⬦ 𝔄𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔰

Arches are the first eight hopers and dreamers created by Dragnar. They're the angel and the guardian of their respective soul traits and species. Each of them has their followers that follow their teaching in the early stage of the world. As time passes on, these followers passed down their knowledge onto their children and the arches' job shifted to being a watcher and guider.

Each species has its own arches that will be explained detailed in the 【 Arches of Dragnar 】 and 【 Arches Partners 】 chapter in the Pandora Book.

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⬦ 𝔉𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔰

Followers are divided into their respective traits and species and they follow their arches. Their roles are mainly to fill this world and served the celestials and arches. Usually, celestials and arches wear white and soft colours clothes to present themselves better.

For followers, the more you wear white, the higher you are than the ones that wear dark coloured clothes as it's deemed unattractive and not clean. It's more evident when the first 【 Monstre Lucifent 】 appeared. Each follower has their arches symbols and colours and is complemented by neutral colours and metals.

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⬥ 𝕸𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖊𝖛𝖆𝖑

With the First Great War ended, sealing the fate of the inhabitants to a new society. Though it's for the good of the world, many suffered and wants nothing to do with war. Ah, but the lords are the leader and their guide to the righteous path, no? With the new world, rejecting their God for abandoning them, they took their own step to make the world they desire.

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⬦ 𝔒𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔰

The overlords are the leaders and guardians of their own region. With each region allied with another to preserve their existence and beliefs. Overlords are the previous arches ruling over their region or followers. Unfortunately, not all arches survived and usually, their children would succeed.

Overlords are the general terms of these leaders. They could have a title anything they want and usually, they would have a second in command if they were busy or absent. A second in command could be their heir.

Each region has their set of rules related to how they dress. It would be explained in the 【 Medieval 】 chapter.

── ◇ ──

⤠ Example of Overlords titles:

⬦ Duke and Lord ⬦ High Priest and Priest ⬦ King and Prince

── ◇ ──

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⬦ 𝔅𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔰

The barons are the nobles under the direct rule of the overlords. They help the overlords rule their respective regions. They usually wear their respective region colour. Their style of clothing also depends on their region and their overlord's liking.

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⬦ 𝔊𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔫𝔰

Guardians are the protectors of the region. They serve under the overlords and barons and are considered almost the same as a baron. Guardians in each region are different and are an umbrella term for knights, mages, seers, etc.

They're usually sworn in and put a seal to prevent any betrayal of their oath so they would remain loyal to the overlords. Although, not all regions implement this method as they see it as a tyrant way.

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⬦ ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔰

Commoners could be divided into the middle class and the lower class. The middle class are the working people under the baron. They're usually get paid little or sometimes never. Some regions put a believe that what they did is a righteous act when they cannot serve as a guardian.

The lower class are often slaves to the middle class and the class above them. They're never paid and their family is bound to serve their master's family. It's very rare for someone to elevate them by "freeing" them.

The inhabitants would use titles as a means to address themselves as their job is or to differentiate from others.

── ◇ ──

⤠ Example usage of titles:

⬦ Harcourt The Dealer ⬦ Eve The Fortune Teller ⬦ Alder the Soulsmither

── ◇ ──

ㅤ

⬦ 𝔒𝔲𝔱𝔠𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔰

Outcasts are the forbidden class. They're the lowest of the lowest in the class system. Often, they're even excluded from the class system. They're considered one of the darkest pasts in medieval times as crimes, non-boundaries, and disease ravaged through. Many unknown souls have been called the victim of the cruel class system. They're often neglected by the upper class and was left to defend themselves. Some are even left nameless and rot to death as they lack basic needs.

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⬥ 𝕮𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑

The classical era takes place after the Second Great War. The segregation between humans and monsters is most prominent as tension rises and breaks apart the alliances. As both humans and monsters revolutionise, the use of titles is not prominent anymore except for formal usage. The class system is similar in Modern Era but with variations.

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⬥ 𝕸𝖔𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖓

As they approach the end of the 19th century, both humans and monsters start to modernize technology and are open to new ideas. However, the looming class system is still present to pertain order in this World of Crystal.

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⬦ ℜ𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔩𝔰

Royals are the leader of each nation, although each nation has its own term for it. Because of the previous war, the leader does not have to be a descendant of the arches. However, those descendants are statistically more powerful than regular inhabitants so it would be rare for one to not be a descendant from the arches.

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⬦ 𝔑𝔬𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰

Nobles are the one who helps the royals control their territory. Its job is very similar to a baron serving the overlords. They hold some authority depending on the peerage. However, the highest command in action would be the royals.

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⬦ ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔰

Commoners are divided into middle and low classes. Similar to how the Medieval Era classified these people. Although the condition of the commoners are better than the medieval times as they could open their own business and make an influence through the nations, rather than just between region alliances.

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⬦ 𝔒𝔲𝔱𝔠𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔰

Outcasts are the same as the Medieval Era one. Even though this class should be "abolished", the inhabitants still refer to them as the forbidden class and not low class. Outcasts usually are not mentioned in any textbooks but rather a socially accepted class.

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━━━━꧁◆꧂━━━━

◈ Animus Book

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[carapacesonnee]

jour 27

Dis-moi, racine, d'où tires-tu ma sève ?

T'es-tu enfouie sous le limon lourds des souvenirs suturés ?

ou cours-tu ; dans quel passé puises-tu ma source ?

colonne de mousse ou de mirage ?

d'un coup de sève tu nous agrandis,

à bouts de rêves , de souffle, d'espoir

c'est les mains pleines que je déborde,

goutte à goûtant la vie, que je t'arrose

de tout ce qui me fait homme,

ce sont tes bras dont je ne peux me passer

puisqu'enfin d'un bout à l'autre,

nous bourgeonnons en cœur.

écrit à quatre mains avec @cloud-hoper

[akhaziz]

**Do not reblog: reposting for anon only**

As-salāmu ʿalaykum anon. Thank you for your message. I’ll try to respond to each point ʾin shāʾallāh though you did have a lot to say:

I understand how frustrating it can be being home under the roof of your parents with semi-adult responsibilities at the same time trying to keep your mother and father happy while balancing familial harmony (siblings, extended family, etc.) alḥamdulillāh. I come from an ethnic European family with cultures and customs that don’t always align with Western norms. I also understand, personally, what it’s like to have people at home who don’t always wish what’s best for you alḥamdulillāh despite trying everything to improve the situation and gain their love, affection, trust and confidence. I know that it wears you down alḥamdulillāh and eventually makes you doubt yourself, lowers your confidence and sometimes can even cause bad thoughts or waswas.

May Allāh ﷻ increase you in goodness, ʾīmān and reward your sacrifice and make this easier to endure. Ameen.

Here are a few thoughts to consider ʾin shāʾallāh:

1.) You aren’t alone. Many young people feel this way alḥamdulillāh. This happens to more people then perhaps you realise and even if you dont have an outlet to express yourself and this person is very near, and the problem persists, know that you aren’t alone for even the blinking of an eye with Our Lord Most Merciful ﷻ as you said in your message.

Everyone in this world has problems and suffers; they feel the worries, anxiety and depression that come along with dunyā. Right now you are facing a test from Allāh ﷻ and what you wrote, though beautiful, doesn’t seem to establish the possibility that this is a massive test and this test requires you to do some things so that you may learn from it and emerge from this with benefits and blessings that inevitably come from strife and struggle.

By blessings and lessons I mean: 

1.) Think positively of Allah ﷻ, for He has only decreed this for you for a reason that is known only to Him. In time, the meaning may be revealed to you.

Ibn al-Qayyim Al-Jawziyyah said:

“Every time the slave has good thoughts about Allah, perfects his hope in him, and is truthful in his trust in Him, then indeed Allah will never ever disappoint him nor let him down, for He سبحانه does not break the hope of the hoper, nor will He waste the deeds of the doer.” [Al-Fawaaid]

Allāh ﷻ wants good for you so long as you adhere to His guidance and avoid transgressing His limits and falling into that which He has forbidden. Perhaps what has befallen you has happened so that Allah ﷻ might defend you from something worse alḥamdulillāh; or, perhaps, this is to expiate your sins or ward off tragedy. We simply do not know. However, when we think positively of Allāh ﷻ and live within His boundaries, there are blessings that come that we do not realise and cannot always comprehend. This may be the case with you and those blessings may manifest themselves tomorrow or in the future and so you must think positively of your Lord ﷻ and believe that He will bring you forth from this in a manner that elevates you.

2.) Trials require ṣabr and intentions to be rewarded. Allāh ﷻ has praised those who are patient in the Qur’ān and has prepared for them a great reward and He ﷻ says: 

Indeed, the patient will be given their reward without account (39:10). The Prophet ﷺ also praised patience and those who have ṣabr when He ﷺ said (narrated by Abu Sa’eed al-Khudri رضي الله عنه)‎‎: “whoever is patient Allāh ﷻ will bestow patience upon him, and no one is ever given anything better and more generous than patience.” (al-Bukhārī 548).

To make this easier to understand, being patient allows Allāh ﷻ to provide you with patience and it’s a circle; you are patient and remain patient and you are given patience and become more patient. A blessing from Allāh ﷻ.

3.) Despite the goings-on at home and with this particular person, this sounds a lot like persistent waswas that is affecting you in such a way that keeps you from sleeping properly, feeling loveable, desired, connected to those around you and more importantly from taking an important step in your dīn which is marriage; if you are a brother, your wife will be half of your dīn. If you are a sister, you will complete the second half of his dīn. This is enormous!

Waswas is serious and it’s why we say: Audhu billahi minash shaytanir rajim. Before you panic, remember that the waswas has nothing to do with matters of ʿaqīdah or ‘ibādah and the salah and ḏikr you perform, rather this has to do with your fear, hesitation and the bad thoughts o the situation/about the person involved in the situation. This is what makes the shayṭān all that much more effective. Also know that this is relatively small compared to what some Muslims experience (waswas affecting their salah, their wuḍūʾ, their ʿaqīdah, etc) and this in itself is a blessing from Allāh ﷻ as you’ve been spared.

Here is the Naṣīḥa you asked for:

—Allāh ﷻ calls the shayṭān the waswas in sūrah al-Nas. You must, at every opportunity, rise above his trickery. Continue the pleasing actions, the loving adoration, the service to and appreciation of this person. Continue to smile, be cheerful, rush to salah, work to perfect your ibādah, read the sunnah, Qur’ān and Tafsīr. Any missteps and you open yourself up to further injury. You can do this ʾin shāʾallāh.

Allāh ﷻ says: “..and hold fast to Allah. He is your protector; and excellent is the protector, and excellent is the helper (22:78).

— You should read Sūrah Baqarah and complete it every 3 nights (couple with Qiyam al-Layl for added benefits and blessings). Our Prophet ﷺ said: “Read the Qur’ān, for it will come on the Day of Resurrection interceding for its companions. Read the two bright ones, al-Baqarah and Al ‘Imran, for they will come on the Day of Resurrection like two clouds or shadows, or like two flocks of birds in ranks, pleading on behalf of their companions. Read sūrah al-Baqarah, for reciting it regularly is a blessing and forsaking it is a loss, and the magicians cannot withstand it.” (Narrated by Muslim Mishkat al-Masabih 2121) The devils cannot bear to hear sūrah al-Baqarah; they flee from it and weaken before the one who recites it, and they are afraid of it. Abu Hurayrah رضي الله عنه‎‎ narrates The Messenger of Allah ﷺ said: “Do not make your houses into graves, for the shayṭān flees from a house in which sūrah al-Baqarah is recited,’ (Muslim 780). 

—Continue to recite the various ḏikrs and don’t skip them (morning, evening, going to sleep, entering home/masjid/washroom as well as for drinking, eating, putting on clothes/hijab/thobe, etc.) as there is a great benefit for you and they will prevent the shayṭān from reaching and impacting you ʾin shāʾallāh.

 

—Make copious duʿāʾ. Supplicating To Allāh Subḥānahu wa ta’alā will bring you relief and deliver you from this test ʾin shāʾallāh. Know the specific times in your area where ʾadʿiyah are accepted and ensure you do not leave off duʿāʾ.

—Pray the supererogatory prayers in addition to the prescribed prayers. Pray for everyone who is afflicted with calamity, tragedy and mishap as the angels say ameen to your duʿāʾ and say “May you have likewise.” Make tawbah with reckless abandon: Allāh ﷻ says:  

“Ask forgiveness of your Lord. Indeed, He is ever a Perpetual Forgiver. He will send rain from the sky upon you in continuing showers and give you increase in wealth and children and provide for you gardens and provide for you rivers (71:10-12).”

That said, you must think highly of yourself and your situation and have Tawakkul that this will end and ease will come.

 —Finally; begin the search for a spouse when the time presents itself. There are many avenues for finding a spouse but consult those you trust and have your best interest at heart. Allāh ﷻ commands us to marry and though you may not yet be ready, the time will come ʾin shāʾallāh and you should pursue this as you pursue salah, the happiness of those nearest you (as you described) and know that this is temporary. If you feel your mental health has been impacted in such a way where you cannot perform basic self-care or the bad thoughts turn to self-harm, please seek help. If you are a brother, DM and I can assist you as best I’m able ʾin shāʾallāh and if you’re a sister, DM and I can find someone to assist you ʾin shāʾallāh.

I ask Allāh Subḥānahu wa ta’alā to heal you post haste and rectify your affairs while simultaneously bringing you happiness and your grief to an end. He is All-Hearing and Ever-Near and I entrust you to His care for nothing is lost in His Care. Ameen.

Yours faithfully,

Aziz

[ivyjadewriting]

Hoper's Nightmare

The hopeful heart

It beats the same

To fill the hole

I go on campaign

Teach the masses

Make them see

All the sadness

We have come to be

An element

Of Hope's desire

Lusts for a you

Stokes the fire

If only I could

Evacuate

All of it, not

Accentuate

But I have a

Stubborn streak

My chest orb hopes

No matter how bleak

Some see it as

A power, a strength

But it's misery

Due to its length

Hope - that burden

Trails behind me

Watching dust clouds

Wishing for glee

This whole planet

The entire world

All the people

Should be concerned

Optimism

Those who care

Feed the hope -

That nightmare!

If only I could

Stop caring

About all

How they're faring

[astriiformes]

You mentioned hoarding platonic music, would you mind sharing a list of them?

I don’t know that this is like, a comprehensive list of anything I listen to, but I can definitely give some recommendations, if that’s what you’re looking for. 

(I also tried to go with pretty explicitly platonic ones, or at least that don’t have anything specifically making them romantic)

(Basically…… I use these songs for found family fanmixes.)

Second Family - Patent Pending

We Don’t Know - The Strumbellas

You’re Not Alone - the Mowgli’s

Kick out the Windows - Parsonsfield

Lullaby for a Stormy Night - Vienna Teng

Embers - Owl City

Home - Phillip Phillips

Through the Ages - Cloud Cult

Brother - NEEDTOBREATHE

We’ll Be Together Again - Dougie MacLean

Bumpy Ride - The Hoosiers

Sax Rohmer #1 - The Mountain Goats

Sun is Shining - Axwell / \ Ingrosso

Don’t Carry It All - The Decemberists

No Hopers, Jokers, and Rogues - Port Isaac Fisherman’s Friends

Good Friend - Cloud Cult

Here’s to Us - Halestorm

Fighting On - I Fight Dragons

Also, like, if plugging my own music isn’t too weird, two of the songs on my and Scribe’s filk EP are explicitly about platonic relationships – Like a Song, which is about missing long-distance friends and Chances & Choices & Fortunes & Fates which was written about our D&D party and also found family as a general concept

[summerswap]

Hello les filles, je suis en train de faire le point sur le swap. 9 colis sur 15 ont été reçus et je voulais savoir où en étaient les swappeuses. J'ai été prévenue par @mamzel-lou qu'elle aurait un peu de retard dans son envoi mais que la préparation du colis était en cours. @jefaiscequejepeux m'a contacté pour un problème d'adresse, donc je suppose que son colis ne va pas tarder à arriver 🙂

@insolentettriomphante @cloud-hoper @nessajana @mieuxvautrirequepleurer , vous en êtes où de vos swaps ? À moins que j'aie laissé passer des posts sans faire attention 😉

[cloud-hoper]

(jour 4)

[...]

le plus dur est de remettre chaque action à sa place

laquelle était malveillante, ignorante, stupide, intentionnée ?

quelles actions sont excusées parce qu'on était trop jeunes, lesquelles aggravées par la différence d'âge et de maturité ?

quelles ont été mes actions ?

quel rôle ai-je joué, petite poupée indocile qui se faufilait entre les silences ?

être a la fois ma propre alliée et ma propre traître

pourquoi ai-je parlé de cette manière

agi de cette manière

séduit de cette manière

quelle peur, quelle envie me poussaient ?

aujourd'hui je tutoie le seuil de mes réponses

demain, je toucherai peut-être du bout des doigts la fin du puzzle

[davidmann95]

Recently I was invited on Twitter to put together a Superman villain tier list from the tiermaker site; I did it while noting some options I was surprised weren’t there or simply wished for, and the original poster actually went ahead and added them, so I did it again. Figured it’d be fun to post it here along with my reasonings.

S-tier: Lex and Superdoomsday are obvious. Darkseid arguably shouldn’t be here because ‘Superman villain’ is at most a tertiary role for him, but if we’re going with it he’s of course tops. Subjekt-17 is everything most of the D-tier villains aren’t as a living, breathing challenge to Superman’s ideals and priorities as a hero.

A-tier: Mxyzptlk, Bizarro, Terra-Man, Titano, Solaris, and Xa-Du the Phantom King are all I trust reasonably self-explanatory. Ghost Soldier as the by-the-book boy willing to fight Superman in the name of making Hard Calls is worth having around but didn't seem to make much impression, and Prankster was always fun even before his all-timer reinvention under Busiek as a distraction-for-hire.

B-tier: Brainiac, Metallo, and Parasite are all major names who never live up to the ideas that are either there from jump or have been bolted on over the years, but they’re still by no means bad. Livewire’s fun, and Nimrod has only been there the once but has nothing but potential. Vandal Savage I guess has starred as a Superman villain a few times,  while he's often bad it's never in a way that makes me think of him as anything less than a delightful character at his core when expressed by the likes of Morrison and Waid in other stories. Mr. Oz is terrible, but Jor-El himself as a not villainous but certainly antagonistic force in Bendis’s run as Superman's disapproving old-world dad whose place in the family is up in the air is fantastic.

C-tier: Leviathan, Atomic Skull, Red Cloud, and the Kryptonite Men are all...there. Ultraman, Mongul, and Zod all would have been D or F tier for their prominence relative to their lack of interesting ideas (or in Zod’s case the failure on the part of creators regarding his interesting ideas), but Bendis has managed to do a bit of work with each of them suggesting viable paths forward. Toyman SHOULD be one of the greats, but when he’s been portrayed as a fun character it feels like he’s never had his ‘distraction-for-hire’ scale breakthrough, and when he’s NOT a fun character he’s a pedophilic serial killer; his highs aren’t as high as you want them to be, and his lows are cavernous. And Puzzler I’ve only seen in Up, Up, and Away!, but she was fun there.

D-tier: Ulysses, Rogol Zaar, Manchester Black, Wraith, and Gog each have at least one truly great idea in play apiece, but have been so poorly executed that to salvage them at this point would take a comprehensive top-to-bottom revamp if not in fact a reboot.

F-tier: Eradicator, Cyborg Superman, and Doomsday are the unholy trinity of overblown no-hopers springing out of the 90s placed in positions of prominence by their roles in that time who enduringly make stories worse by their presence. Doomsday in particular, while not the worst of the lot, has the unique distinction of having a raft of riffs on him - Superdoomsday, Jimmy as Doomsday in All-Star, Davis Bloome, Devastator - every single one of whom are better. To fix them would mean making them those characters in name only. Those next two dudes from Jurgens and Johns’ runs whose names I don’t even remember are nothing, as is Equus. And while I haven’t read the Sand Superman Saga, my impression is that not only is he nothing too, but that story was the prototype of the modern “Superman is broken and we need to fix him” epic.

Don’t know: Never read anything with Master Jailer, Silver Banshee, Bloodsport, Rampage, Chemo, Conduit, Bruno Mannheim, Hellgrammite, or Riot in roles of note, and Maxima started out as a charitably dicey character but has been overhauled into a much more palatable one who now has basically nothing to do with Superman and I don’t know how to rank that.

Here’s the tiermaker in question if anyone wants to take their own crack at it.

[lajeunefilleauxcheveuxblancs]

cloud-hoper a réagi à votre billet “Le temps de l’attente...”

courage pour toutes ces questions qui ne sont pas les plus faciles à résoudre. en tant que spectatrice totalement extérieure je me réjouis beaucoup de tes dessins, mais je comprends tout à fait si tu comptes réduire la cadence de publication!

Merci pour la bienveillance de tes paroles @cloud-hoper! :)  Et oui, je n’ai pas toujours été la plus régulière dans mes publications mais ce genre de petits mots d’encouragement me donne du baume au coeur et envie de continuer à partager mes petits gribouillages...

[crystaltale-official]

◈ Lucidial ◈

"God formed a believe to create a strong conviction."

──💎──

Lucidial in its prime was once considered a heaven through all of its people. Only the arches and their partners are allowed there as it’s considered sacred. Dragnar cannot be present all the time so he entrusted MoiRai as his right hand man. This place is home to the arches and some of their servants if they wish. Each part of the Lucidial represents the arches that resides there with their own aesthetic of choice. As time passed, the restrictions became a bit more leisure and only appointed hopers could enter besides the arches’ partners. They’re there to learn of the arches’ knowledge and spread it throughout the world, both hoper and dreamer.

After the first Great War, the hoper won and changed the old ways entirely. This group of people despises the arch and follower system and wishes to be more modernized in their own eyes. After some tension of discussion, they allow the dreamers to live within them in their own rules and separated throughout the world to not easily gather a force to rebel. Some of the people in the group were extremists that wished that dreamers would be locked away in the Lucidial, away from them. However, the knowledge of magic is held by Victor Oswen, a dreamer. He made the table turn at the dealings since he has what they want, the secret of magic. The extremists lay down until they could get rid of dreamers completely.

The Lucidial remained untouched after several hundred years and was in MoiRai’s care. The second Great War came and the monster lost once again. This time the group took action and succeeded in persuading the other leader to banish the monster into the Lucidial.

Lucidial is now shut off from Dragtal, the physical world. Without it, it cannot sustain itself because of the lack of the flow of physical magic from Dragtal. The Lucidial that was once a heaven turned into a ticking time for the inhabitants unless it sacrificed a human or living beings that originated from Dragtal. Without it, Lucidial will slowly crumble and fade away into non-existence. Perhaps into the Depths. An irreversible process.

There’s a time where many of the inhabitants turn into Monstre Lucifent, making them a shaman. The most forbidden in both societies. Monstre Lucifent was a major problem back in the Medieval Era so perhaps some of them followed monsters and used them to gain life force. This era is called the Lucifent Era.

──💎──

≿━━━━༺◈༻━━━━≾

💎───────── 💎

Justine Dreemurr, the unusual king.

༻ Leader ༺

Lucidial was once ruled by Dragnar and MoiRai until He decided to create the arches to help Him manage the world. At some point in time, Dragnar left Lucidial for unknown reasons. Until then it was taken care of by MoiRai.

After the Second Great War, the Lucidial was taken in charge by the Dreemurr family since they’re the leader of monsters. The family took care of its people but unfortunately did not realize the effect of the class system where the social gap is wide.

Known leaders:

◈ Dream Wishmurr ◈ Asgore (Justine) Dreemurr ◈ Kit Dreemurr

💎───────── 💎

Renonculemus, the symbol of ancient heaven.

༻ Symbol ༺

Lucidial’s symbol is the modification of the Animus symbol which later on became the Renonculemus. This symbol is a combination of the Animus and Dreemurr’s family symbols. The Animus symbol is always related to Dragnar’s iconic symbol. The crystal being the essence of this world while the wings represent his wings, spreading his blessings. The centre of the symbol is the Golden Flower symbol representing the royal family. The crystal frame represents that they’re made, depend, and use crystals. Out of it, there are 4 parts representing the clouds of Lucidial, symbolizing the divinity and the fact that the place is a floating realm.

💎───────── 💎

༻ Politics and Society ༺

Throughout its history, it changes alongside human’s history as they watch them from the water in Lake Bliss. It’s like a watching mirror to Dragtal as it’s used by the arches to watch over it in the past. Changing from the Medieval era, Enlightenment Era, to the Modern Era. They still speak some of the old Medieval languages and older people still speak the first language! Their clothes still follow the human trend by seeing them through Bliss Lake although, they do add their own culture. They will always have a crystal or brooch and most colors are white, blue, and green. Monsters cannot have a soul representation except if they’re the arches' family or trains for years or a gift. Thus, there’s no specific trait for them.

💎───────── 💎

༻ Politics༺

The Lucidial do not hold any relationship with the nations until the portal to Dragtal is open once again. They made a relationship with Goldenflow’s leader so their kind could live there until all of the nations approve their return to the world. Boreal and Nightral welcome them with open arms. Although, Nightral limits its access as they have a tie with Geronto which do not agree with the monster's sudden return. Occirly only allows some officials and nobles to enter as their place is already “overpopulated” and their arrival would distract the workers.

💎───────── 💎

༻ Class System ༺

There are 3 main class systems in Lucidial. That is Royals, Metics, and Ghetto. This classification is based on old ways as Lucidarians are still in some ways connected to the past. They’re based on family’s lineage, magic, and wealth.

◈ Royals

Royals are the descendants of the 8 arches before them. They’re the one that has the MTP constellations. Before being sent to the Lucidial, they’re once a ruler to their own land. They usually wear clothes that represent their trait colour as colours are seen as important symbols throughout the history of both humans and monsters. Symbolism is very important. They will usually have a crystal in any form to represent them as well.

◈ Metics

Metics are the ones that could sustain themselves and have normal magic. Unlike Geronto, you could be an inert but still classified as metics as long as you’re wealthy enough or have a strong connection to the royals. They usually wear yellow to blue hue colour as that’s believed to be the colour for divinity and heaven. Similar to the royals, they use crystals to represent them, often the same as their trait.

◈ Ghetto

Ghetto are the minority and almost forgotten. Even after the war, they’re still the same as before. Struggle to get food on the table. However, unlike the other nations, the Ghetto lives are getting better as time passes. Their number decreased as the royals tried to reform the system. They become displeased when the Lucidial portal opens to Dragtal. With the royals focusing on diplomatic relationships with the humans and racism from them, it’s even harder to survive. Although, they’re relieved that they did not die as a result of Lucidial falling.

Rumours surfaced that the reason the number decreases is because they’re used as a sacrifice for the Lucidial, even though it will only give little effect. They’re the most vulnerable to the Monstre Lucifent’s whisper as they have so many weaknesses to exploit regarding their lives back when they just established themselves here.

💎───────── 💎

>>Environment of Lucidial seems to be sealed at the moment<<

༻ Environment ༺

This place it’s known as a heaven in the past thus there are many magical and unknown things to outsiders. Lucidial is a floating island on what looks like a white place with clouds surrounding it. Like in many depictions of the heavens, the place mostly consists of white, blue, and green colours. The colour of peace and calmness. In the past, Dragtal used to be like this but as time passed, it’s almost completely gone. Only in Lucidial where the past lives on.

There are many crystal plants and animals that are called Krisant and Krisani. Animus crystals also thrive here as they exist because of the high magic essence present. There are not many buildings here as converting crystals into materials are difficult and they do not want to change this place entirely. Remnants of the previous arches’ place are still there and soon filled in by the inhabitants.

💎───────── 💎

༻ Technology ༺

Surprisingly, despite being held back in Lucidial and not following the human’s development of technology, they made very good progress in it. With the help of magic crystals, Victor’s notes and the Eidya’s help, they’re able to make a scientific breakthrough. Some of their inventions even surpass humans. Such as magic sharing where users could share their magic trait for a period of time or perhaps the classification of magic and blood type. There are some other inventions that could’ve been made if not because of the resource limitations.

💎───────── 💎

>>Lucidial’s Portal seems to be sealed at the moment<<

༻ Lucidial’s Portal ༺

Lucidial’s portal is a portal that connects Lucidial and Dragtal. With this portal, the flow of magic flows through between them, that means both magic and physical essence. After the second Great War, the main portal was closed off by the wizards and thus the flow of magic was disrupted and cutted. However, because of the nature of magic like water, looking for a way to flow, some small occurrences of Lucidial’s portal around Dragtal exist. Around these portals, magic’s flow usually is odd and someone with a high magic aptitude will feel the flow disturbance. Despite being able to let some of the magic flow, it’s only a little and sometimes none. It does not solve Lucidial's crisis of needing physical magic from Dragtal.

Only some people and things could enter. For people, only the one with MTP constellations or very high magic aptitude could enter it and end up in Bliss Lake or any natural water in Lucidial. However, it would be hard to go back to Dragtal as there is no currently known way to return and monsters are desperate to get a hold of humans so they would not die.

💎───────── 💎

≿━━━━༺◈༻━━━━≾

Related information: Dragtal [Modern] | Dragtal Map

Creator's Footnote:

"Lucidial's hues are my favourite because yellow, green, and blue and the colour palette I often used. This nation is inspired by the Greek Gods story. I also wonder what if a place like heaven become something the opposite of it? Well, if we look from the neutral side, heaven exists because some people believe it aka it needs a foundation to exist. Now, what if heaven doesn't have that? Will it hold itself together?"

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Rock You Like a Hurricane (The Eighties Blasts Collection, Part 12.)

Description: Jim Hopper died as a hero. But with that, one certain problem rises up - who will now lead the cops of Hawkins? Hopper thought of that - he decided to write a letter, naming his niece, nineteen-year-old student of Indianapolis police academy, Y/N Hopper as a sheriff deputy in a letter. But anybody in the town doesn’t have a clue that being a cop in Hawkins is way more dangerous than it might seem.

Part Summary: The whole party has finally assembled and there's only one more thing that needs to be done - Hopper needs to test if the monster is really connected to her like the first Demogorgon was to Eleven.

A/N: Song is a shoutout to Billy Hargrove - he might be not the best guy, but he did some pretty nice things in the end.

Word Count: 3 K

Tagging: @charmed-asylum​ @nemodoren​

Master list: The Eighties Blast Collection

It took two other days until everyone was able to meet up - it was a pretty Saturday night and everyone decided to meet up at the old car graveyard. Kids were calling it Junkyard, but the old car graveyard was a better name in your opinion. 

You and Steve were there two hours before the sunset, waiting on everybody else to show up. You sat on the top of an old school bus and watched the sun slowly disappearing behind the trees. It was truly beautiful, but it still was a bit cold. It was almost December after all - you just hugged yourself tighter and pushed the big, winter, lumberjack coat which you found in Hoppers cabin tighter on your body.

“How are you feeling?” - Steve asked suddenly. There were many things you could talk about and yet, you decided to keep your mouth shut. For example, you could ask him about him and Nance. You could talk about the last years you haven't seen each other. You could start asking questions, and a lot of them, but you were mostly just joking around.

Mostly, you were thinking about the vision the Shapeshifter showed you. If you had to be honest, you were everything but brave even if you tried to act like a tough cookie. Seriously, you were terrified out of your mind. What if the visions showed to be false? What if the Shapeshifter tried to play mind games with you? But what if they were real? There were at least dozen of Demogorgons somewhere in the world, kept at one place and there were probably even more which you couldn't see with your own eyes, and that was... Surreal. You have seen and heard what one Demogorgon can do. What could dozens of them do?

And there, of course, there was Jim. Was he alive or dead? Was he somewhere out there and was he waiting for your help? Or was he a lie as well? You needed to speak to somebody so bad, but the only person you would tell all of this was dead, currently MIA.

“Yeah, thanks for asking. Do I look bad or something?” - You joked, not sure if you're funny. Steve had an answer on his tongue, but he just swallowed it down. You thought that he doesn't see how many times you wake up in the night, panting and mumbling something, being completely disoriented for a few seconds until you realized where you were. You were quiet enough not to wake anyone, but Steve wasn't able to fall asleep most of both nights - you were in his room and there was a Shapeshifter roaming around in the woods.

“I just think it can be all a bit too much to handle singlehandedly, that's all.” - Steve mumbled to you before turning back to the sunset. 

“But I'm not alone in this one, Steve. There's five kids, two childhood friends, and Robin who are helping me handle this. Otherwise, I would simply go insane.” - You answered honestly, thinking that your whole talk is over. It wasn't.

“I don't have this situation on my mind. I mean the situation in your head.” - Steve slowly dropped the knees down from the top to swing them around as a small boy. - “Listen, Hoper, I know how does it feel like to be alone. For a time, I had no-one. My girlfriend left me, I realized that my best friends are just jerks and the only person I relied on, my dad, told me that I am his biggest disappointment since I didn't make it to college. If you need to talk to someone, a heart to heart talk, just remember that I'm here.” - Steve gave you a small smile, and you just looked at him without having anything to say. - “I just don't think it's fair that you were left alone, without Hopper. And I don't think it's fair that the Shapeshifter gave as much hope as it did.”

Alone. To feel alone. Such a strange feeling. To feel like no-one understands you, that you don't belong anywhere and to anyone. When you felt alone, it felt like you were floating, like an airship without an anchor. 

“I really hope that he's somewhere out there.” - You told Steve quietly, playing with the hem of the lumberjack coat with your thumb. - “I just really miss him. He really was like a dad to me, you know?” 

“I know, Hopper, I know. I remember the time you were living at his place in New York and came back for the holidays. We were together most of the time and we always went for a swim to Nancy's. We were six or something.” - Steve said with a smile, watching his old Converse shoes swinging in the air. 

That was a dark time in your life - or so you were told. Hopper made it the best year and a half of your life. You hadn't got a single bad memory on the time you've been living at his house in New York while he took you back here to have holidays in Hawkins. Sara took you as a sister, Hopper definitely took you as his little present, as he always called you. After that, it all crumbled down - your life, Hopper's life, Sara's life. But you didn't want to focus on that story. - “You never looked happier than here, when Hopper was taking care of you. We will do our best to find him, for you and Eleven. It's the least he deserves from us as payback for everything he's done to keep our asses safe.” - Steve promised and rose his pinkie for you to hold it. He could see the tears in your eyes and even though, you still rose yours to hug his. You tried to act so toughly, but Steve knew that it's just a mask you're wearing.

There was a whole story to be told, yours and Hopper's, but at the time, you didn't want to focus on any of it. Also, you heard the first bikes arriving at the old car graveyard, so it was finally the time to stop being so serious. It was Dustin with Lucas and Max, each of them holding a bucket of leftovers from the butcher's. Sometime after that, Mike with Nancy and Robin came out of the woods - Robin surely took them in her car. 

You started to prepare the playground - you made sure that the bus will be a totally safe space for the kids, you also made sure that the flashlights are lighting every small corner of the old car graveyard. Steve with Dustin prepared way made out of meat from the butcher's, telling everyone that they've done it already. The rest was securing the small meadow inside the junkyard - Max made herself one watchtower away from everyone where she was sitting with radio and with a sling by her side. 

Lucas made himself a bird's nest on the of the old school bust you and Steve were sitting at previously. Nancy had a revolver by her side just as you did, Steve came back with a baseball bat that had nails hammered in. Max and Lucas had slingshots and Robin found herself an old, rusty pipe. Dustin and Mike were the second radio tower on the bus, sitting alongside Lucas. Nancy was supposed to have a watch on the stairs of the bus meanwhile Robin and Steve were with you outside, protecting your right side and your back.

“Whatever happens, we're in this together.” - Mike told everyone just a quarter to ten o'clock remaining. You were standing next to a huge pile of meat that was supposed to be the main catch for the Shapeshifter. - “We won't leave anyone behind. If anyone dies, we're dying with them.” - Wheeler said as if that was for sure, which, of course, terrified you. 

“Nobodys going to die, dingus. We secured the junkyard, we are equipped, Lucas and Max have the best firecrackers around.” - Steve chuckled and each one of you put your palm into the middle of a circle, you bent forwards and yelled Hey ho, let's go! just like in The Ramones song.

You trusted each one of them and took a knife out of your pocket, opening it up. Your hands were trembling as you tried to catch your breath. Everyone was getting on their positions and those who already got there, watched your silhouette standing in all the lights coming from the flashlights. Nancy could exactly name the feeling you had - an endless fear from whatever was about to happen. You lingered the tip over your hand and when you wanted to cut the skin, you couldn't bring yourself to. That was when Steve appeared next to you.

"Need a little help with this?" - He asked, visibly as nervous as you were. You looked him in the eyes and handed him the knife. Steve exhaled, a cloud of mist coming out of his mouth. What if you were wrong? What if the Shapeshifter isn't connected to you in any way? What if it doesn't come and you just cut your palm for nothing?

Before you could tell any of your thoughts to Steve, you felt the knife opening up the skin on your palm as Steve gently pushed it in. His palm was supporting yours so it didn't move a bit even if it was visibly trembling. You looked at the blood rushing out of your body, instantly making your whole forearm and palm sticky, red and weirdly hot and cold at the same time.

"Thanks." - You mumbled and positioned the palm so the blood was dripping down on the meat beside you. Now, you only needed to wait and test out the theory. If it comes, it can sense you by the smell of your blood. You were pretty afraid of that. Steve just nodded and went back to position himself to protect your back.

You stood there until the blood stopped dripping, which took at least fifteen minutes. Steve was really precise with the cut, to say the least. It almost looked like that even the Shapeshifter will let you all alone with a cut on your hand, but then the lights started flickering. Mist covered the most of the small meadow you created and everyone was set in action - you saw Nancy stand up and Mike with Dustin were calling Max like crazy just to get some information. Robin and Steve got nervous and you looked around, searching for it.

You didn't know what form will it have or if more will come to get you - that was maybe why it's appearance shocked you so much. You were looking at Barb Holland coming directly from the place where Max was sitting. She had her ginger hair perfectly fixed, her glasses were neatly clean; Nancy could even say she had the exact same outfit she had the day she had disappeared. Anyone could tell a single word. You weren't able to. She was smiling and walking to you, her honest eyes were aimed at you. She looked just like you remembered her, not a single hair on her hair changed.

"Shoot it! Come on! I don't know who it is, but the monster is just fucking with you!" - Max yelled at you, ruining the moment completely. Until that second it looked like Barb, Shapeshifter of whatever the fuck it was, was coming in peace.

That was the moment when Shapeshifter came out of Barb, becoming a weird mix of her facial features and the Shapeshifter's body, now crawling on all-four, jumping directly at you as it mouths opened up. Not a second after that, Steve swung his bat to hit the target precisely, but even the small contact of you and the Shapeshifter was enough for you to roll your eyes backward. It was happening again - the time was slowed down and you were looking at Steve, who was yelling something at someone while you were falling on your hip. Whatever it was showing you previously, it had more story to tell.

The Mind Flayer has taken control over you once again and this time, you could actually see how it dragged you all over the planet since you didn't keep your eyes closed. You weren't even joking, you were just traveling through various places - you've seen the Eiffel tower in Paris, the Colosseum in Rome, the Prague castle in Czechoslovakia. And it dragged you further and further away from there - to a land covered in snow, where you were freezing to death. You stood knee-deep in the snow again, looking into woods. There were high trees around you and completely white snow.

“Can you hear me?” - You asked the misty ball, this time its tentacle was hugging your shoulders - it didn't respond back. Not a move, not a sound, not a signal. Your voice sounded somehow muted down as if you were trying to speak underwater. What were supposed to see? It was just a random forest. Until you were turned around harshly to face a huge rail track leading as far as you could see. A rail track? For what? 

You bit your lip, coming closer to the track, the ball on your shoulders still remaining on your shoulders. This couldn't be a normal rail track - it seemed to be new, barely used. It was placed in the heart of the wilderness, so the ones building it were trying to keep it away from people. Could it have something in common with the Demogorgons? 

“What on earth are you trying to show me?” - You asked before the misty ball dragged you off to somewhere again. It didn't step away from the snowy rail track, dragging along the construction. The length of it was... Insane. It was hundreds and hundreds of miles long. You stopped nearby a group of workers. There were men in long, warm coats, but it still seemed that they are not working on the rail track because they would love it so much. When you counted it down, you counted two guards looking after one person - ones were standing in watchtowers, presumably snipers, guards with dogs and ones holding AK-47.

Wait a minute. AK-47? Of course, you knew the machine guns, they told you about this type of machine guns at school. You wouldn't find a soldier with this gun in America - because this family of guns started and was distributed by soviets in...

Russia. You were in Russia. These people were Russians. You still couldn't understand a shit they said, but you noticed the small red stars on their apparel, the furry coats, atypical types of work equipment. If these were Russians and the Mind Flayer took you there, that meant that the pack of Demogorgons was in Russia.

You got even close since you were sure that these jackasses can't see you and looked at the men building the rail track. They were dirty, surely freezing. Each one of them looked almost extremely underweighted and tired - these men weren't workers, no. These ones were imprisoned, slaves to say the least.

“What is all of this?” - You asked the ball and suddenly, one of the men turned at you with disbelief in their face. This time, you got enough time to look at him - but you had trouble with saying that's Hopper for sure. These blue eyes were the only thing that made you sure - his skin was basically transparent, he was dirty with huge bags under his eyes, he didn't have any hair or beard. But in the short second you watched each other, the Mind Flayer showed you that it is truly Hopper. 

You suddenly had way more questions than answers - why was Hopper in Russia and how did he survive the explosion? What were the Russians doing with Demogorgons? What was the rail track for? And on whose side Shapeshifter was? You took a breath to say something to Hopper, at least a word, but you suddenly fell onto the ground, seeing and hearing Harrington yell something. 

Blood was dripping from your nose again, but this time, you knew you won't pass out. You heard shrieking, growling and shouting, some gunshots, yelling and hits with the baseball bat and rusty pipe, but you just watched the Shapeshifter running off. 

“Hopper, Jesus Christ!” - Dustin's face appeared just inches from yours, so you naturally jumped a bit. That boy was destined to be your death one day. - “What did you see? The end of the world? Explosions? People yelling?” 

“Dude, calm down.” - Steve dragged him away and you felt Nancy and Robin helping you with standing up. They held you on your feet until your head stopped spinning and the blood stopped dripping. - “You okay? You seem to be... I don't know, confused?” - Which was weird since the Demogorgon almost bit your whole head off.

“It isn't trying to kill me.” - You whispered quietly and looked at Mike. You didn't know why or how, but your gaze just gravitated towards him - so you just stared him down while you were lost in your own thoughts. 

“As far as I am concerned, this looked like attempted murder, Hopper.” - Lucas spoke from somewhere behind your back, but your head just shook on its own. 

“Why would it show me that the Demogorgons are in Russia, then? And that hopper is there too?” - You asked back and everyone suddenly shut up. 

[jtownraindancer]

Lucifer x Reader: Water

*

It was unseasonably warm, and the lake was more crowded than normal.

The sky was the perfect shade of blue, passing clouds big and slow, reflecting off near crystalline waters.

There were dozens of kayaks and sailboats carving their way across the waves, and nearly every available patch of grass was occupied by more folks trying to enjoy the last bit of warmth before the first whispers of winter.

You adjusted your weight on the bench, trying and failing to find a more comfortable position before feigning an interest in the sketchbook on your lap.

The sun was hot; you were regretting wearing a jacket today.

A few stray wasps hummed nearby, interested in the recycling bins, but still far enough not to bother you.

All-in-all, the atmosphere belied calm, shrouding an uneasiness that had been brewing over the past few months, and did nothing to calm your nerves.

When a small ruffle shifted the air beside you, you did feel some of your stress abate. A subtle chill tinged the air around you as he settled, and the knowledge that he had decided to accept your invitation was more reassuring than any other attempt made in the past fortnight.

Still, you were having a hard time reigning in your surprise.

"I honestly was beginning to doubt you'd show up."

"Oh, ye of little faith."

His playful tone was enough to bring a proper smile to your face, and you turned to face him, barely containing your relief.

Abashed, he ducked his head for a moment, clearly unused to such joy at his mere presence. You turned to face the water once more, allowing him the momentary vulnerability; it was always heartwarming to know he was comfortable enough with you to show it.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke, simply content to be in each other's company again.

It had been difficult recently, your life too hectic lately to take a day to yourself, his time divided between reforging his place in the Host, teaching his son, trying to restore order in Hell. In a way, you missed the days when he was still fully Fallen, missed the simplicity of his former role.

But that was selfish, and he deserved far better.

"If it's any consolation- I've missed you, too."

This brought your attention back to the First Rebel, critically tracing his expression.

He radiated contentment, arms casually extended on the backrest. There was a carefree attitude all about his frame, and yet his eyes-

You had forgotten.

The Devil never lies.

You fought off your own embarrassment, sudden shyness forcing your attention away yet again.

It had been months since you had last spoken, such a short time, yet it felt like a lifetime ago.

You had all the signs that he still cared, that he still worried.

Black eyes would follow you on your walks, the crisp scent of snowfall teasing your nose every morning upon your awakening, and sometimes you would find slightly burnt feathers refracting the sunrise from the top of your nightstand, each now carefully strung above your kitchen window, celestial sun-catchers gracefully twirling in the light.

Every evening, you would stare at them, still shining in the soft hues of the sunrise, graceful pinks and flickering oranges.

Every evening, you deliberated on the offer he had made to you.

Many times, you had been so sure you had made your decision, so certain that you were ready to choose your path. But then something always came up that made you change your mind again, once more putting off your response.

Pros and cons lists had failed you, and a simple coin toss would never be sufficient.

It shouldn't be such a hard decision: see the universe, or remain stagnant.

An obvious answer, one you had been ready to give months ago. But then your family needed you, then your car broke down, you gained a promotion, your student loan payments increased-

Everything added together in a months-long battle that you had only scarcely pulled through.

And now, knowing Chaos was breaching the edges of the Cosmos, Rumour and Panic already sinking their teeth into the general populace-

You knew, realistically, your dreams of seeing the distant stars could be nothing beyond that.

Lucifer's family needed his knowledge for the coming war.

Your family needed you for your strength and support.

"Lucifer-"

You turned to face him once more, startled by how intently he was studying you, how near he had drawn. There was a wariness to his expression, eyes darting between your own as he tried to make sense of your thoughts.

Some part of you, so, so long ago, had been scandalized by how he constantly, unintentionally, kept reading your mind. But now you found yourself grateful for his ability to do so, because Lord knew there was no way you could verbalize your arguments.

Lucifer frowned, turning away from you.

"You're not the only one who's selfish."

The heartbroken admission tugged at your empathetic nature, your hand lifting slightly in an abandoned gesture of comfort.

It had been months, centuries, perhaps even ages for him. Each plain moved at a different pace, everything in its own convoluted timeline.

Maybe, maybe there could be a middle ground?

"If there was some way we could do this, some way we could escape without missing a minute of our lives, or somehow go back if we make the wrong decision-"

There was a derivative snort, his arms folded across his chest as he took in your proposal. "Time travel. Seriously?"

You shrugged, already dismissing it as the silly proposal that it was. "What can I say; I'm a hoper of far-flung hopes and a dreamer of improbable dreams."

He rolled his eyes in passing bemusement, the playful grin crossing his lips sending a jolt through your veins.

Damn, you had missed him.

You watched as two pigeons fought over a forgotten potato chip, overwhelmed once more by your indecisiveness. In his presence, the desire to abandon all duty and responsibility had increased tenfold, everything within you practically begging for you to give in.

And for the first time, the temptation was just too strong for you to resist.

"If I agree-"

He perked up, every emotion cast away in favour of his curiosity, of his hope.

It positively shattered you.

"-Where would we go?"

"Anywhere." It was scarcely a breath, full of longing and desperation. "Everywhere. Nowhere." He took a breath, words suddenly tremulous and unsure. "Wherever you want."

He had already proven how much he valued you, how deeply he cherished your friendship. He had confided in you, trusted you.

Knowing that, it suddenly became the easiest decision in the world.

"Yes."

*

[isfjmel-phleg]

Bus Stop

Another weird short story.

The bus comes to Girard and Dayton at 6:25 PM. It’s not a long walk to the stop from where I work, just across the street. 

I wish it were much longer. I wish I had to walk half a mile uphill before reaching my stop. At least it would keep me occupied. Twenty-five minutes is a long time to wait for a bus. Alone. In the evening. The last evening of October, a night when people throw off their masks of sanity and the unspeakable could lurk behind any tree.

But I have no choice. My usual arrangements fell through. None of my co-workers offered me a ride. They didn’t notice me walking away by myself instead of escaping into the parking lot with them at closing time. Even if I had told them, would it have made a difference?

With purpose I shoulder my bag and stride to the end of the street to cross. I force myself to find reasons that the wait isn’t so bad. It’s still daylight, the last faded efforts of a gray day, but bright enough not to cloak the unknown. The clouds, noting my prudent umbrella, have restrained their rain. The street isn’t busy, so I cross unhindered and reach the stop under a canopy of tangled skeleton trees vainly surveying their flayed leaves on the sidewalk below. My watch declares that it’s 6:03.

I plant myself beneath the bus stop sign and watch the wind skitter the leaves in a swirling exodus back and forth through the gutter. They seem about to spell out a message that the wind won’t let them show me. They can’t escape this street, though they look as if they want to. I can’t blame them.

But they’re only leaves. They’re not alive, even if they twitch and dart as if they were. I’ve been staring at them too long. I avert my eyes behind me. The bushes shielding bus-hopers from whatever building lies on the other side wear their berries for the autumn—marble beads, pitch-black. A cobwebby coating frosts their leaves, not a one missing, the perfect place to hide for—

No, I will not think of that. I will not think of my co-workers’ whispers about another one found crumpled on a pile of leaves just a few blocks away…

I have plenty of time. I should walk over to the next stop. It’ll give me something to do, and there’s a low wall where I can sit for the next twenty long minutes. I clutch my umbrella handle tighter and proceed. 

The loose bricks of the wall shudder a little when I sit, but the bulk beneath me is reassuring. Kitchen smells drift from the Yak and Yeti facing the parallel street. If only I had time to stop for dinner—but I’ll eat when I get home. If this bus ever comes along. It’s only 6:11.

I steel myself at the sight of a crowd swarming down the sidewalk across the street. But it’s only a family, with children in makeshift costumes, venturing out from the apartments, talking, laughing, swinging empty plastic pails. More and more knots of such people trip past. Harmless. At this time of night they’re the only ones liable to be out. I have no reason to be afraid, I severely remind myself. It’s just a night like any other.

When I was quite little on this very same night, I spied through a window a man on our doorstep, illuminated by our porchlight, with such a face… Whether mask, makeup, or monster loosed from the pit, I never knew; perhaps I only imagined it.

If worst came to worst, I could make a bolt for the convenience store within sight.

A truck stops in front of me. A man peers out. Do I need a ride, he asks. Oh, no thank you, I say hurriedly, trying not to make eye contact. He nods and drives slowly away, turning left at the corner.

The sky is a tinge darker. A parade of children have skipped past and vanished amid the apartments. Not even the rush of cars answers the wind’s breath. A rustle behind me makes me jump. But it is only a plastic bag, rolling along like the last tumbleweed of a ghost town.

It is now 6:19.

* * *

At 6:22, I begin to strain my eyes down the road for those lifesaving headlights. At 6:24, I stand up and clench the bus fare in my fist. By 6:37 there have been three and a half false alarms, and by 6:41, I succumb to despair. My bus is either dreadfully late or will never arrive.

So you can hardly blame me for being so overcome with relief when a real, live bus with glaring lights beneath a frosty-eyed windshield stops before me that I don’t even read the neon letters declaring the route and destination. I don’t need to. Only one route services this road.

“Transfer please,” I gasp as I smooth the bills to feed to the fare box.

“I’m out of transfers,” the driver replies. “You can pay on the next bus.”

Nodding my thanks, I go on back as the bus rattles to life. Night buses evidently use a different layout. There are fewer rows and an unusually elevated long seat along the side in front, facing gray wall, its back to the windows. I hoist myself up, between a messy-haired elderly lady chatting with the driver and a sullen young woman in headphones. Besides a few silent men with caps pulled over their eyes, sitting toward the back, we are the only riders.

I sit back in relief and set down my heavy bag. It’s a nine-minute ride to Nine Mile Station, and from there, one more bus takes me home—if I haven’t already missed it.

It’s getting darker as we drive past the apartments and out of the neighborhood—dark enough for lights inside the bus to cast their cadaverous glow and transform the ever-blackening windows into mirrors. My face isn’t worth staring at for nine minutes, so I root around in my bag for a book. Nine minutes for one chapter. Nine minutes to relax and shut out public transportation. The station is the last stop, so I don’t need to stay vigilant for the currently blank screen announcing stops to cue me to yank the bell cord. 

So I tune out the creaks and the traffic noises and the lady’s endless monologue and wallpaper my world anew in the shadowy rows of words that ferry me to a place where buses no longer matter. I feel my conveyance twist and turn beneath me along with the plot, but this seems of no more consequence than the rise and fall of my breath.

One chapter glides by, and I tell myself I can manage another. Just a few more pages, and we haven’t stopped at all…

I force myself to shut the book. Surely we are nearly at Nine Mile. I frantically look around me, but I can make out only the faintest outlines of buildings. The garish florescence of the bustling bus station intersection is nowhere in sight. My watch claims twenty-three minutes have passed.

Did I miss the Nine Mile stop somehow? Even the screen can’t help. It’s gone from blank black to flashing a garbled snarl of chopped-off letters and symbols. If I stare at it long enough, I can almost make out “Nine Mile Stn,” but I could just as easily see “Girard & Dayton.”

Every inch this bus moves is taking me farther and farther from where I need to be. If I get off at the next stop, I could at least figure out my next step in a stationary location. I reach for the bell cord.

And can’t find it. 

Not beside the window, not hanging across the pane. The sign instructing riders how to call for stops remains, but there is no cord.

“Excuse me? Driver?” I croak. 

The lady is still talking, and he doesn’t seem to hear.

“Driver?” I try again, a little louder. “I need to get off! I need to get to Nine Mile!”

His head doesn’t even turn. He nods at something the lady says.

I slither off my perch and stumble forward. “Sir? I need to get off! Let me off!”

“I’m going to have to ask you to get behind the white line until we come to a complete stop,” he says mechanically.

“When’s the next stop? I need to get off now!”

“Pull the cord when you’re ready to get off. Now get back to your seat.”

“But—”

He clears his throat and jerks his head toward a nearby sign. The one announcing that failure to comply with drivers is a crime. Punishable by…

“Fine,” I say and slink back to my seat. My face stares back at me from the now lightless window—dark-rimmed eyes and crumpled forehead. I shudder and turn away. I should have known better than to look out windows tonight.

The men in the back have fallen asleep. The young woman tosses a tuft of hair away from her face and mouths some unheard lyric. The lady chatters on to the unyielding driver.

Above us all, the stop screen flashes its scrambled message of whatever godforsaken stop we’re bound for.

If you see my boss tomorrow morning, tell him I’m sorry.

If you see my family, watching for me at the stop near our house, tell them I loved them.

Or I could tell them myself. Whenever we do reach Nine Mile Station. It’s bound to turn up eventually.

Any minute now.