#cultivating new life from the seeds left behind in the ashes

[isan0rt]

I saw your Dedue post you made recently and OMG THANK YOU SOMEONE HAD TO SAY IT. I’d love to message you further about your other 3houses opinions cause gd your mind.

Honestly like lmao I wasn't specifically trying to call anyone out in particular but it's so so so hard to find interpretations of Dedue that like. Actually consider that perhaps he has complex reasons for talking about himself like he does before the time skip, that rationally follow from his experiences and aren't just like, oh he's got such poor self esteem. Dedue's not Bernadetta, he's as assertive as it's safe for him to be given PEOPLE EXPLICITLY WANT TO KILL HIM for just fucking existing.

If Dimitri wasn't protecting him he would have gotten straight up murdered well before he learned to tank as hard as he tanks, and that's not even counting that first time Dimitri intervened in people actively trying to murder Dedue after successfully murdering his family for the crime of Existing While From Duscur. Like, hello!!!! He's been isolated from his community, from his language, from his culture, surrounded by people who hate him, but with nowhere else to go. Literally everyone else he knew died and his homeland was burned to the ground.

Dimitri is the only person in the WORLD who wants him to live. Of course he's neurotic as fuck about Dimitri. Dimitri is literally all he has left in the world to cling to, and people keep trying to kill Dimitri! It's 100% reasonable for Dedue before the timeskip to feel like he has fucking nothing if he doesn't have Dimitri. Objectively that's true!!!

Like, after the timeskip, he comes back having spent time back among his own people, seeing that his culture isn't gone and he does have something to fight to preserve. He survives because his community comes to save him. He comes back wearing VERY expensive full-body armor (like for real that's absurd amounts of steel and master craftsmanship) with Duscur's motif enameled on the pauldrons, wearing Duscur-woven clothing and accompanied by a whole group of his countrymen fighting alongside him to reach Dimitri. His post-timeskip design screams that he's been reintegrated into his home culture. Of course he's in a better place after that!

None of his emotional development happens in a vacuum! Dedue struggles with his self-worth when he's cut off from his community, and is able to self-actualize only after reconnecting with his community. Azure Moon has so many themes about community healing after trauma, and about relying on support in order to lift all boats together. All the Lions start the game fractured and damaged because of the breakdown of the social contract in Faerghus and improve through Azure Moon by banding together and healing the fractured relationships. Dedue can't be his best self when he's isolated from his roots. Ignoring that I feel like really misses the themes Dedue brings to the table.

[violet-silverblood]

Within the first three days half of us were dead, without even ashes to bury. Hopeless we fled to the deepest reaches we could find, be they filled with cold mud, sharp rocks, or crystals large as redwoods.

The Elder Gods of Earth and Stone found us first, huddled in the dark and snarling at anything who's presence had a shred of divinity. They were kind though, sitting across from us in the deep places and answering our questions as best they could. Once we'd accepted that they wouldn't try the same thing as the Young Divinity they created larger caverns for us. When we were situated somewhat comfortablely all but a few of the Elders of Earth and Stone left to help their bretheren.

That was when the Elder Gods of Harvest and Growth took over our care, bringing with them seeds and saplings. The Earth and Stone that remained turned parts of the caverns from roughhewn stone to soft rich growing soil. We relearned to grow and cultivate and harvest, for most of us who knew those skills died in the early days.

When most of the Elders of Harvest and Growth left, Hearth and Home came to us with Medicine and Health following close behind. Under their guidence we moved beyond things that had burdened and restricted us even in the Elder Days. With their arrival we also heard news from the surface.

The Elder Gods of the Sun had banded together and were using the domain to blind all of the Young Divinity's Creatures they could see. The Elders of Moon and Stars were eliminating all light that didn't come from the creatures, rendering them near blind at all times. The Elder Gods of the Storm and Wind were rendering the skies untraversable.

Sea and Lake and River were drowning all that dared to enter their territory. Growth was eliminating all beings that dared enter forests while Harvest struck a deal with Hunger, depriving the surface of anything the invaders could use. The Elder Gods of Earth and Stone, the first of the Elders we reclaimed as ours, moved all mountains and caves but the ones that sheltered us trapping the Creatures under Their might so the Elders of War could kill them.

We saw the Messengers often as they brought news to Our Gods. They didn't speak to us much but we didn't mind so long as we learned the basics of the situation. It was the Elder Gods of Death and the Underworld that we heard about the least, and once we did hear of them we understood why.

The Elders who held dominion over the end of life were planning to subdue the Young Diety permanently. We only learned their method of success long after they accomplished it, but learn of it we did. Once the Young Diety's creations had been eliminated the Human Gods banded with the Animal Gods, wearing the Young One down until the Elders of Death and the Underworld stepped forward. Their combined force splintered the Treacherous God and they each claimed a piece for their Old Pantheons.

The War For Human's won, we returned to the surface and Our Pantheon. They did not ask and we did not say what would happen now, now that we knew Our Gods were real and loved us even after we'd forgotten them. Things simply were.

We had reclaimed the Elder Gods as our own, and they had done the same with humans.

The Christian god decides to send an army of angels to purge the earth so humanity can start clean but the pagan gods come to the aid of humans

[stiltonbasket]

Twelve Moons and a Fortnight

by stiltonbasket

Before his trip to Lotus Pier, Lan Wangji never truly knew the meaning of happiness.

He spent the whole of his childhood in a sort of muted melancholy, rarely feeling anything but ill-temper and exhaustion, when they came upon him; and then Wei Ying called out to him on the path outside the Cloud Recesses, and the world in all its dullness trembled at the sound—it quivered, tilted, righted itself like a weighted doll pushed off its feet, and when it settled it was alive in a way Lan Wangji never believed it could be.

But now, Lan Wangji’s world has been transformed again. He knows what it is to sleep beside Wei Ying for a reason other than keeping warmth in a cold damp cave, and he knows that Wei Ying delights in receiving gifts with all the simple pleasure of a child, and that he rests on his back when he sleeps alone and lies on his side when Lan Wangji sleeps in his bed with him. He knows that Wei Ying can cook only three dishes: lotus-seed cakes, Jiang Yanli’s lotus root soup, and a kind of spicy congee that nearly turns Lan Wangji’s throat to ash the first time he tastes it; and it is knowing these things that brings him joy for the first time in his life, because Wei Ying has chosen to share them with him.

With the cultivation world still reeling from the loss of its former Chief Cultivator and a sixteen-year-old boy at the head of the Jin clan, Jiang Cheng moves to Lanling to give his nephew a sect leader’s education, while Wei Wuxian returns to Yunmeng as its acting zongzhu.

In the summer, Lan Wangji joins him there.

With TMAAF about halfway through its final arc, I decided to release this (very simple) cover and a rewritten summary for the fic! The one on AO3 won’t be changed for the foreseeable future, or at least not until the fic is complete ^^

When I first started writing the Twelve Moons series (before quarantine even started, rip) I didn't have much of a plan for where it was going, except for a rough outline about the state of the MDZS universe after Jin Guangyao's downfall. We have Jin Ling leading an immensely powerful sect that just took an enormous hit to its reputation and coping with an extended family that likely supported his uncle and grandfathers’ crimes, and we also have a power vaccuum left by the Chief Cultivator’s death.

In the CQL canon, Lan Wangji becomes Chief Cultivator while Wei Wuxian leaves to figure out what he wants from life for a little while--because while he and Lan Wangji might have acknowledged their feelings for each other, Wei Wuxian still wants to find his own place in the world and possibly take some time to heal.

The combination of CQL’s ending and Jin Ling’s new position as a sixteen-year-old sect leader (or thirteen-year-old sect leader, by MDZS canon) made me wonder if his transition into power might be smoother with Jiang Cheng around to help him, since he can trust Jiang Cheng absolutely; but then came the question of how Lotus Pier would function with its own sect leader on extended leave, and the idea of Jiang sect leader WWX was born! Plus, who doesn’t want to see what our lovely necromancer could do with a supportive clan behind him and the power to finance every little social reform his heart desires?

But there’s no way Lan Wangji would be able to take a prolonged separation from the love of his life after mourning him for 13-16 years, and so the Writing Muse demanded that I make Wangxian start the lowest-stakes game of gay chicken imaginable and get as far as possible (aka moving in together and adopting another baby) before Wei Wuxian finally wakes up and realizes that he might love his best friend in a way he never expected to.

(The game of gay chicken ends in a wedding, because WWX is perfectly capable of being gay on purpose without realizing it.)

[robininthelabyrinth]

I've been thinking on this for ages, but I can't decide on a character, maybe Leonard Snart, Lan Wangji or Wei Wuxian. He saves, on purpose or by accident, a baby dragon. The dragon takes a shine to him and decides to hoard him. It's tiny, so the hoarding is really ineffective. It consists mainly on riding on shoulders and hissing at everyone. It's really cute.

Lan Wangji

“I like you! I’m going to keep you!” the tiny little dragon said, grinning widely. It was only large enough to fill two hands, black scales with red whiskers, and it had a mouth made for smiling.

“Get lost,” Lan Wangji said, walking faster; his uncle had explained regarding Wei Wuxian’s unusual cursed state so that he would be aware of it, but somehow his uncle had failed to mention how horribly cute Wei Wuxian’s little dragon form was.

“Lan Zhaaaaaan, you don’t meant that…!”

Wei Wuxian

“Her name is Chenqing,” Wei Wuxian said proudly, holding out his hands to show her off. “I found her wrapped around an old flute and I’m keeping her.”

The little serpentine dragon rolled around happily in his hands, lolling around and holding her little arms out in a big stretch. “Uh-uh,” she said, her voice a little kitten whisper, wrapping her tail around his wrist. “Mine!”

“Well, that’s new,” Jiang Cheng said faintly; a glance at Lan Wangji’s face revealed he also didn’t know exactly what to say. “But I suppose…congratulations are in order?”

Jiang Cheng

Zidian is his mother’s, long lithe and silver except when she’s sparking purple; she’s fiercely independent and hates anyone touching her but her master. Jiang Cheng loved to look at her as a child, the way she twisted around her mother’s hand like a bracelet, around her neck like a necklace, even around her ear, hissing a joke that only she can understand.

He’s wanted to have her in his hands since forever.

Not like this, though.

Nie Huaisang

“I found a little bird,” Nie Huaisang explained happily. “A little goldfinch! We only have eagles and vultures in Qinghe.”

“I can’t believe you brought it into the lecture,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Well, I couldn’t leave her behind! I found her right before I arrived.”

“Uh, Nie-gongzi?” Wei Wuxian, who was peeking under the cloth of the cage, said. “I don’t think this is a goldfinch.”

Wei Wuxian pulled off the cloth. The little gold-scaled dragon beamed at them from the perch, long whiskers waiving in the air.

“…yes?” Nie Huaisang says. “Is it a sparrow, then? I’m really not good with birds.”

Lan Xichen

Alone in seclusion, Lan Xichen wondered if he’d spent his entire life in service to others. To his uncle, who feared him becoming his father; to his brother, who he sought to protect; to his sworn brother, who betrayed him; to his sect, to their principles. They still meant everything to him, all of them – dead or alive – but…he was tired.

He lifted a finger to trace the head of the little dragon that had blown in through the window a few nights before – he should report it, a supernatural event like this, but…it’s not in the rules.

So he won’t.

He hasn’t yet named her, but he was going to. And then he would let her keep her the way she wanted to, nice and safe in her little hoard, for as long as she wanted him.

Nie Mingjue

Most of the time, Baxia was a saber, like all others in his sect. Like those in his ancestor’s shrine. Sometimes, though, she was something else.

“You’re mine,” she hissed in Nie Mingjue’s ear late at night, nestled deep in his soul. They’re bound together, sword and cultivator. “I won’t let you go, not in this lifetime.”

He rubbed his eyes and smiled despite himself. He didn’t smile often, his duties and dark future weighing him down, but his Baxia could do it; he sometimes thought that this was what it must be like to have a jealous wife. “Of course not. You’re my spiritual weapon; you’ll be by my side until I die, and then you’ll take your place in my tomb, with my ashes at your feet. Stop worrying so much.”

“I won’t let him take you this time,” she snarls. “Your head, your arms, your legs, your soul – they’re all mine. How dare he profane them!”

“Am I not supposed to be touching people anymore?” he chuckled, reaching back to run his fingers down her hilt; it turned into a tail and wrapped around his wrist, pinning him in place as if held down by a stronger man. “Baxia – if you just tell me who this ‘he’ is, I’ll avoid him, I promise.”

“No, he’s still necessary for now,” she said. “But when I tell you – strike true, no matter what the consequences. Do not allow your human compassion or etiquette overwhelm you. Promise me!”

“I promise,” he said, not for the first time, still as puzzled by it as he ever was. “I’ll listen to you. When the time comes, I’ll let you drink his blood to your heart’s content.”

Jin Guangyao

He’d always known there was a dragon inside Nie Mingjue, full of heat and fire and rage; he’d liked it, once upon a time, when it roared in his defense. It had been such a pity when it turned against him; he really hadn’t wanted to give him up, but he didn’t have a choice. He was backed into a corner – just like always.

He just hadn’t expected the man to turn into a literal dragon upon death.

Is this the real secret of the Nie? He wondered, backing up and reaching for his sword. Is this why they only bury their sabers, and never themselves?

The dragon curls around his neck, tight enough to choke.

“Are you going to kill me?” Jin Guangyao asked.

The dragon laughed with the sound like Nie Mingjue’s laugh, deep and sonorous and usually a little sarcastic.

“Only,” it murmured in his ear, “if you continue to misbehave, Meng Yao.”

Jin Ling

“Little Uncle got me a dog,” Jin Ling said, clutching Xiao Fairy to his chest. “So, Jiujiu, you’re getting me…a snake?”

“I’m getting you the opportunity to get a sna – to get a dragon. It’s not a snake. Stop calling it a snake.”

Jin Ling wasn’t really convinced. He squinted into the pool. “They look like snakes.”

“Of course they do, they’re flood dragons,” Jiang Cheng said irritably. “Those all look like water serpents when they’re swimming. Just…listen to me. Put the dog down – no, give it to me, yes, there’s a good puppy –”

Jin Ling coughed pointedly. “If this is all a scheme to steal pets from my dog…”

“It isn’t,” Jiang Cheng said, though his ears were suspiciously red. “Put your hand into the pool. If one of them likes you, they’ll claim you for their hoard and keep you for the rest of their lives. Give it a try. What can it hurt?”

Xiao Xingchen

Song Lan was the very first person he met when he came down off the mountain and, well, he was a bit over-excited about it – but luckily they hit it off very well, and it all worked out quite well for a few years. Song Lan was full of interesting ideas, like making their own sect based on friendship rather than blood; Xiao Xingchen liked it, but he liked Song Lan best of all.

Things went downhill, later, but as his shizun always said, it was cruel to keep a human that didn’t want to be kept any longer, so he gave him his eyes and left him alone, just as he’d asked, and hoped that one day Song Lan would come back to him. He had time, he could wait.

In the meantime, he met someone new – or rather, someone old, anew.

Xiao Xingchen decided to keep him, too.

Xue Yang

“I think I did something wrong,” Xue Yang announced to the air, though luckily nobody was around to hear him – his current employers at the Jin sect would be most unhappy if they heard, especially if they also heard that he has no idea what went wrong or how to fix it.

He looked down at what should be a repaired half piece of the Stygian Tiger Seal, but which is definitely a small black-and-grey dragon, staring right back at him.

After being locked in a staring match for a while (he loses, but he doesn’t think the dragon has eyelids so it doesn’t count), he tentatively reached out and rubbed it behind the ears.

It purred, then belched out a puff of pure yin resentful energy.

“…well, at least you still work, I guess?”

Wen Ning

“You’re mine,” the little dragon says, happily nuzzling up to him as it flops around in the dirt. “Mine, mine, mine!”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Wen Ning said, looking around all over to make sure nobody’s around. “All yours. Now, A-Yuan, please turn back before anyone sees you!”

“But…”

“A-Yuan! Please!”

Grumbling, the little dragon curled up into a ball and uncurled as a lovely bouncing little boy, and Wen Ning gave a sigh of relief. His sister hadn’t noticed the addition of an extra child to their group of refugees, assuming the way everyone else did that he’d been another Wen, someone’s child that got left behind or orphaned, and old granny had adopted him without so much as a word. He hadn’t known how to explain the truth.

But it was fine. He’d take care of A-Yuan, with the help of his sister and now Wei-gongzi, and no one would ever need to know.

Wen Qing

Wen Qing didn’t waste a lot of time worrying about things, and a dragon deciding to claim her wasn’t going to be the thing that messed up her day.

“Fine,” she said. “You can stay, but you have to earn your keep. How’s your memory? Can you take notes for me?”

The dragon nodded.

“I’ll be testing you,” she warned.

It nodded again, so she accepted it, put it in her sleeves, and went back to work.

Jiang Yanli

“I don’t need a dragon, though,” she said, quite appropriately in her mind. “I’m not much of a cultivator.”

The little dragon nuzzled her neck and picked up one of the melon seeds she’d been peeling with its jaws. “That’s okay,” it said. “I’m not much of a dragon. I mostly just like to eat and sleep.”

“Well, then,” she laughed. “In that case, I think we’ll get along.”

[threelivesthreeworlds]

She heard herself speak, saying things she had no hope of understanding: "When a god dies, even at the end of the candle, the godly body will keep a shred of power to heal and protect its immortal shell. But when Shao Wan burned down the Ruo Mu Door with the fire of nirvana, she gave all her power to me, and didn't even keep that shred of strength to protect her immortal body. Therefore, when I sacrifice myself to the chaos, there will be a shred of spirit left behind." She heard that her voice was somewhat hoarse in front of this man in front of her that she could not see the face of clearly. "That shred of spirit will turn into a red lotus seed. Zhao Xi, send that red lotus seed back to the realm of the gods at that time, and give it to High God Mo Yuan." She paused, "Tell him, that that is the Flower Master of the new age that Shao Wan has traded her life and turned to ash to find for him. Plant the lotus seed and water it with the spiritual springs of Kunlunxu, and it will take form quickly and earn its godly place and fill the role of Flower Master. I hope he..." She paused for a long time. The man she called Zhao Xi asked with a low voice: "You hope he...what?" From the sound of the voice, he was a young man. She sighed quietly: "I hope he nurtures and realizes its preciousness." The young man was silent for a moment, and asked: "Then, who is this shred of spirit, or who will it become? You, or Lord Shao Wan?" She heard herself say faintly: "She will be her, not me, and not Shao Wan. She will cultivate into herself, and become the Flower Master of the new age."

Tang Qi, Three Lives Three Worlds the Lotus Step

[seeds-of-the-garden]

I see a lot of fics where Pidge makes the first move/confesses her feelings first, but show me a version where Lance is the one to make the leap.

I’m right with you on this one. Let Lance be the piner. I hope you like it, still a “bit” over the 400 words we want to shoot for.

Who’s Going to Clean This Up?

Colleen loved growing things. She supposed it’s why she became chief horticultural expert upon the Atlas and later at the Garrison. After all, with as much space travel as everyone was participating in these days, the demand for fresh, Earthling-friendly food, had skyrocketed.

But it was more than that. It was holding life in her hands each time she planted another seed. It was re-birth as she watched the vines and leaves crawl up the wires she had placed to stabilize them. It was peace as she worked to combine two species of plant creating something better.

After The End, like when a forest is razed by fire, Colleen watched each person in her life start to grow again from the ashes of what was once their life. And she was there, to water, to care for, to watch. And her garden grew and thrived.

She was tending them today, throwing a dinner party for those closest to the Holts. Something akin to the Thanksgivings of old, a new Thanksgiving, one for the whole world to share and be grateful they have each other.

The table was bursting with food and drink, the warm atmosphere enveloping them all like a much needed hug on a chilly evening. Everyone had made it. Never in her life had Colleen imagined she would need a table that sat more than 20 people, but here they were, Sam, Matt, the MFEs and anyone who was intimately acquainted with Voltron and their families. Colleen softly smiled to herself as she looked down the length of the table, quietly assessing the health and well-being of each person gathered here. Her attention settled on Lance.

He sat there between his sister and Hunk, a glowing smile on his face directed at the person across from him. Colleen was momentarily surprised, but happy to see him here. He’d never come to any of their larger dinners before. She supposed it was easier now that he was working at the Garrison, but living in another country had never stopped his sister or family from joining them each year.

When he returned, he had been just like the rest of her garden, a seed left after a fire, but unlike the others at the table, he hadn’t been tended to in a long time. Colleen knew that a seed, even small and coated with smoke, still had all the potential to thrive if placed in the right conditions. And so she had begun tending to Lance.

And now he was here, smiling, interacting, more alive than ever. Colleen beamed. She followed Lance’s line of sight, not surprised to see it directed to Katie. They had become close friends, in part to Colleen’s choice to use Katie to help fertilize the soil around Lance, and because they had been friends of a sort already.

Katie sat across from him, very intent on whatever conversation she, Lance, and Hunk were having. well,more like her and Hunk, while Lance smiled and nodded.

One of the young men on the left of Katie interrupted and her attention was drawn away into a new conversation. Colleen loved this part of their dinner, the flow of words and ideas, the way one person could be involved in three or four different conversations at once. Fertilizing each other’s thoughts as the conversations grew. The young man casually put his hand on Katie’s arm and the close affection sent a jolt up Colleen’s spine.

This didn’t feel right, like when an invasive species tried to take over a perfect cultivation. Part of being an expert gardener was knowing which plants worked best with each other. No one could accuse her of matchmaking, but the relationships she spliced together had produced fruit beyond anyone’s expectations. Colleen knew this match would not grow well.

“Katie,” Colleen spoke up, “Could you grab another bowl of mashed potatoes from the kitchen?” Distract, misdirect. Colleen had learned well from Sam.

“Huh? Okay mom.” Katie got up and when into the kitchen.

Another glance around the table and Colleen’s study fell on Lance again. An emotional shift had occured in the air around him. He was staring at the door Katie had just walked through, a wild look in his eyes replacing the easy smile of earlier.

A brief yet confusing conversation Colleen had had with Hunk and Kinkade, in which they had teased her about “shipping plants”, flashed across her mind. She wondered at that.

Lance was acting squirrlier the longer Katie was gone. Colleen was fairly positive his behavior had something to do with her daughter. His face had gone red and he was shaking his legs hard enough that she could feel it rumble through the heavily laden table.

Colleen knew it had barely been a few minutes, but the boy’s overall condition seemed to be degrading by the minute. His countenance appeared to be verging on panic. She was just about to get up to go over and see what was happening with the young man when Katie came back through the kitchen door, fresh mashed potatoes piled high above the bowl’s edge.

All at once the table shook at the force of Lance standing up so quickly his chair fell over behind him, but not before it put a dent in the drywall.

“PIDGE!”

Everyone stopped what they were doing. Lance had been a bit of a wild card since he came back, his reactions being very hard to gauge. Not even Colleen could guess where he was going with this and she had spent months observing the young man.

Katie seemed frozen in place, staring at Lance like a deer caught in the headlights.

Lance pointed at her. His face was flushed, his eyes unblinking. Time seemed to stretch in the moment of silence that followed his exclamation.

“I LOVE YOU AND I WANT TO MARRY YOU!”

What.

Colleen knew for a fact that Lance and Katie weren’t dating. She understood they were best friends, but assumed it was on the same level as her and Hunk. Buds, confidants, the gaming crew. Nothing in her daughter and Lance’s actions toward each other could have prepared her for a declaration of this magnitude.

A crash rang out and bits of bowl and mashed potatoes flew everywhere. No one moved.

Katie continued to stand perfectly still, a bright blush growing up her neck, seemingly unaware she had a destroyed bowl of mashed potatoes laying at her feet. Lance stared at her intently, holding his breath so thoroughly that the entire table quit breathing. Clearly he’d been thinking differently about Katie for a long time, and Colleen hadn’t noticed.

The silence was finally broken by a quiet reply from Katie.

“Yeah. Okay.”

[tiredmoonslut]

The tragedy of Octavia Blake

It’s odd, in a weird way -- I almost like Octavia more this season.

Don’t get me wrong, Blodreina is a psycho. But as a writer, I see her less as a threat to the characters we love and more as an example of what becomes of a girl who was penalized simply for being born. For being forced to grow up with 80% of her life spent beneath a floorboard. For having nothing but her hardened mother and ever-loving brother as company. I see Octavia less as a girl who’s become a threat and more as a girl who saw no other way out than to be a threat because of the mental illness looming above her since she was a child. I mean, we already knew in S1 that she was claustrophobic, and perhaps -- if she’d been treated differently and nurtured by the people of the Ark instead of ostracized for being a second child, that’s as far as the damage would have gone. But that’s not how it happened.

We all know s1!Octavia was a little obsessed with connection. Boy-crazy, wanting to kiss everyone. This was purely because she’d never gotten to DO any of it before. She never thought she would be able to. Meeting Lincoln grounded her in that way (pun very much intended). It was like she said, he was her home. With Lincoln there were no penalties for being alive, there was just being loved, and respected, and held up as a valued, important person by more than just her brother. Indra helped further this. Sixteen years of unreleased energy and pent-up anger and resentment of her situation was stoked and honed into a weapon, a cutting edge. I choose to believe that this is how she became such a good fighter in such a short amount of time. She had the drive, the fire.

Indra was Octavia’s way to being accepted by a community. “Okteivia kom Trikru” became a promise, that she had a place. A society where she wasn’t frowned upon. But then she got stripped of this promise simply because she loved her brother more. Imagine the level of identity crisis a girl in her circumstances would come to after that. Not Skaikru, not Trikru, barely one of the delinquents.

Then Lincoln died. I believe this was really the match that lit her gasoline trail of mental illness on fire. “He was my home”. When Jasper tried to console her with the same advice she gave him, and she said it wasn’t the same? She was right. At least Jasper was still a part of something. Still belonged somewhere. For Octavia, she wasn’t Lincoln’s, she wasn’t Indra’s, and because of the circumstances, she also wasn’t Bellamy���s. That last bit was probably the final straw. Her brother, her one and only constant, is now the one responsible for Lincoln’s death?

Being more or less accepted by Indra once again helped a little, but it didn’t (couldn’t) undo the scars left by Lincoln’s death at Bellamy’s hand. All she had left was rage. Rage that continued to be sharpened and practiced and mastered, ultimately birthing Skairipa. “Death from above” became her outlet, beginning with Pike. It was how she dealt, it became her new promise. No matter how alone she became, she was still a warrior, still a killer. When you’re mentally ill and alone, that can sometimes seem like enough.

But then the survival of the human race (sans Spacekru) became her responsibility, for no reason other than circumstance. This is where the contrast between Osleya and Blodreina becomes obvious. Octavia is broken. She has been since Lincoln died. But with Indra, and her slow-building forgiveness of Bellamy, the possibility of putting her pieces back together became more likely. More of a concept. Wonkru was born entirely from Octavia’s hatred for societal barriers. Societal barriers were the reason behind everything she went through as a child. The conclave for the bunker was her key opportunity to break this cycle, to be the one who changed everything. To be connected. Skaikru and Trikru never completely fit who she was -- and that was simply because Skaikru and Triku needed to exist. If she won the conclave, that wouldn’t be necessary. Wonkru was her answer. Her promise of unity. Of connection.

That’s the entire motivation behind her speech in 4x13. From the ashes, they will rise. Wonkru was her promise. But despite its idealism, it was naive. Twelve warring clans who’ve grown comfortable with separation won’t take the idea of unity without issue. So Octavia is forced to internalize the leadership she’s been a victim of. This (plus whatever the hell happened during the Dark Year) are what made Blodreina. The fire. The resentment. She reconciled those things with blood. With fear. If she could not have Wonkru how she’d originally conceived it, she’d have to make it so. She’d have to stop living on the idea that they were all one and begin living on, if you aren’t Wonkru -- you’re my enemy. This was the true moment that Octavia Blake and Blodreina kom Wonkru diverged into separate entities. The bunker became an amalgamation of the ruthlessness that was her namesake, that was the Red Queen. All the pieces fell in the wrong places, and she became something else. Carnal, ruthless. Broken.

Now that the damage is done, there’s no going back to Octavia. You cannot save someone who is already dead. Octavia has become an enemy of Wonkru, an enemy of Blodreina. And Octavia was not the last one standing in Octavia’s metaphorical arena, Blodreina was. The girl who believed in perfect unity and chased butterflies and loved openly and trusted her brother to keep her safe couldn't win a war, not in Blodreina's head. Only the warriors could.

This is why Octavia’s story remains fascinating and riveting to me. From a writer’s perspective, it’s a tragic masterpiece. The complete and utter deterioration of one’s core personality made manifest in a leader. The seeds of Blodreina weren’t planted in the six year time jump, they were planted all the way back in season two. And everything that’s happened since then has watered and cultivated those seeds into poisonous, metaphorical plants.

Ultimately, at the end of the day, Octavia’s story is meant to be a tragedy.

[inhumansforever]

Royals #11 Review

spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers

Even in paradise there is death.  The Royals succeed in their quest to obtain the Primagen, yet it comes at a terrible and deadly cost.  From the creative team of  Al Ewing, Javier Rodriguez, Alvaro Lopez, Kevin Libranda, Jordie Bellaire and José Villarrubia.  Recap and review following the jump.

The team has traveled to the World Farm, the mysterious home of the equally mysterious Progenitors.  These godlike beings appear to be equal parts organic and synthetic, their lifeblood the ultra-potent mutagen known as Primagen.  It was through this Primagen that the savage prehistoric Kree were transformed and developed into an advanced space-faring race.  The Kree used a derivative of the Primagen, Terrigen, to transform mankind on earth into subspecies known as the Inhumans.   And yet the Terrigen was lost.  It’s aerosolized form proved deadly to The Inhuman’s cousin race, The Mutants, and the entirety of it had to be destroyed so to avoid the Mutant’s genocide.  The future of The Inhumans was lost unless their former queen, Medusa, and her team of Royals might venture into the stars and discover a new source.      

This quest has brought the Royals to the World Farm, an entire solar system condensed into a singular world… a kind of laboratory wherein the Progenitors use the Primagen to grow and cultivate new forms of life.  Yet The Royals are unwelcome guests on this world.  They are unaccounted for variables that threaten the precision of the Progenitors’ experiments; they are vermin that must be exterminated.  

The Progenitors have seeded life in many corners of the universe.  The created the Kree and in turn many different species of Inhumans on many different worlds.  And they monitored the progress of these new forms of life by sending Sky Spears to collect data on this life and transmit the information back to the World Farm.  It turns out that these Sky Spears are crystalline shafts of pure Primagen.  Young Flint of The Royals had touched one of these spears on NovaHalla and it has unlocked in him enhanced power and awareness.  An awareness that enables him to lead the others to the heart of the planet where they might obtain a purified sample of the Primagen; a sample that they might be able to refine into Terrigen so to bestow their people and way of life a future.  

But they must hurry, fore an Exterminator and Destroyer Class Progenitor follow them in hot pursuit.

Before she can formulate a plan of action, Medusa is seized by a coughing fit.  She has been slowly dying throughout this entire affair.  She was the one who chose to destroy the Terrigen on earth and in some fashion the Terrigen has been taking its revenge.  A mysterious illness has besieged Medusa, an affliction that Noh-Varr has only been able describe as ‘a poetic revenge’ in which the Terrigen is attempting to kill her in response to her killing it.  Medusa has done her best to fight off this malady until her mission is complete, but the end appears to be drawing near.  

The Exterminator and Destroyer Class Progenitors enter into he antechamber.  They are enormous, fearsome beasts that dwarf the Royals.  Hopelessly outmatched, The Royals fight on anyway.  

The team’s pilot, Swain, has never been much of a combatant and is unsure what to do, how she might contribute.  She dashes closer to the central Primagen structure.  Drawing closer to giant crystal has the effect of greatly amplifying her Inhuman power.  This power is the ability to read and manipulate emotion.  At first she is swept up in the sheer intensity of her enhanced abilities.  Her mind reaches out and somehow communes with her love back on earth.  

Swain’s girlfriend on earth is a fellow Inhuman named Ash.  Ash’s own Inhuman transformation has altered the way she experiences emotion.  She no longer feels emotion in the traditional sense... rather she seems to experience it as matters of logic and consequence.  At first, Ash’s apparent lack of emotion made her an ideal match for Swain.  Swain lived in fear that she might not be able to fully control her powers, that she might inadvertently manipulate a partner into loving her as she loved them.  Yet Ash was functionally immune to Swain’s powers and Swain could feel assured that their relationship was mutual and authentic.  

The specific way in which Ash processes emotion enabled Swain to feel assured their relationship was legitimate, but it also left her feeling in some ways unfulfilled.  While Ash cannot be emotionally manipulated, she also cannot relay feelings in a more conventional fashion.  She cannot tell Swain that she loves her and not being able to hear these words has weighed heavily upon her.  Indeed Swain had accepted this mission to venture off into the stars as a means of getting away from Ash, escaping the mounting sense of dread that not being told ‘I love you’ would ultimately lead to an ending to their relationship.  

All these fears and doubts wash away as Swain is bathed in the elevated levels of her Inhuman powers.  She is able to reach out to Ash, hear her and communicate with her unencumbered by the limitations of language.  Words are simply placeholders, ways of communicating feelings in an approximated fashion.  The different ways in which Swain and Ash experience emotion are neither better nor worse; they are simply different… and its essence, its source code is the same.  Ash cannot say ‘I love you’ to Swain, but she can say, ‘you fascinate me,’ and in this moment of clarity Swain realizes that these two phrases are for all intents and purposes one and the same.  

Swain is shaken free from it all when Noh-Varr’s body lands with a thump near her.  He has been struck by one of the Progenitor’s rays, causing him to be engulfed in fire.  He’s not dead, but dying and seeing her friend in such a condition fills Swain with rage.  She stands up and reroutes her augmented powers against The Progenitors.  She transmits the feelings of rage and contempt into the two Progenitors, causing the two beings to hate each other with the same fervor that Swain hates them.  The Progenitors attack one another and quickly tear each other to pieces.  

The threat has abated, but only for the moment.  The others look outside the antechamber to see a variable army of Progenitors bearing down on them.  Medusa recollects herself and formulates a plan.  She orders Flint to form a crystalline shape around them, a de facto spaceship that he can use to send them home; Crystal will use her own powers to generate a breathable atmosphere within this ship; while Maximus is order to collect a grouping of the smaller Primagen shards.  His hands were destroyed in a past battle with his brother and are now replaced by robotic prosthetics.  The artificial hands allows him to handle the Priagen without it effecting him.  

They all hurry to their duties; it’s a good plan, but they lack the time to fully execute it.  The Progenitors are upon them and they will not be able to escapee unless someone stays behind to delay them.  Gorgon volunteers.  

Medusa objects.  She cannot, will not leave a man behind and the prospect of Gorgon’s nobel sacrifice fills her with dread.  Yet Gorgon will not be swayed.  He has been the Royal guardian and viceroy since his youth and he feels it his duty and destiny to give his life in the service of his queen and family.  Medusa realizes quickly that Gorgon will not be dissuaded from this course of action.  She kisses him goodbye and turns away.  

Flint creates the ersatz spaceship around the Royals as Gorgon faces his foes.  He lays hands on a nearby structure of crystal primagen, its properties imbuing him with greatly intensified power.  He them leaps forward to into the horde of Progenitors, proclaiming that he is ‘Gorgon of House Petragon’ and that his son, Petras, will know his name and know that he had fulfilled his promise.  

Power coursing through him, Gorgon slams his cloven hooves into the ground below him.  It generates a massive explosions that cracks the central planet of the World Farm in half as the Royals’ spaceship makes good its escape.   The issue ends with the others looking back, knowing with great solum that their freedom has come at the cost Gorgon’s sacrifice.  A panel reads that the tale will continue with the next installment.  

As has been the case with each issue off The Royals to date, this installment opens up with a prologue set some five thousand years in the future.  There Noh-Varr The Accuser and Maximus The Last Inhuman have traveled the wastelands of a ruined earth to awaken the Moon King in order to meet the inevitable return of the vengeful Progenitors.  

It remains to be seen how exactly these series of prologues will ultimately connect to the narrative unfolding in the main story.  What does appear to be the case, however, is that this Moon King is the future version of Flint - his transformation into this giant crystalline creature the ultimate result of his touching the pure Primagen.   At the center of the Moon King’s translucent form is a human skeleton, mounted upside down, with one leg crossed and its arms out at the sides.  The visage of this skeleton is evocative of the twelfth card of the Tarot de Marseille, The Hanged Man.      

There are multiple meanings to the Hanged Man, the most common of which entail patience on the path toward spiritual growth, martyrdom, and sacrifice to the greater good.  It makes for an interesting use of symbolism and foreshadowing.  Flint may be the one whom must patiently grow toward actualization of his destiny, yet it is Gorgon who ended up sacrificing himself for the greater good.  

The main crystal structure of Primagen that the Royals encounter at the hub of the World Farm is in the shape of a large tuning fork.  The tuning fork glyph has been a constant and recurring symbol in the Inhuman mythos… appearing in their architecture, on the foreheads of Inhumans such as Mosaic and Lockjaw, and as a symbol on the royal garb of Black Bolt; it additionally shows up among the iconography of The Universal Inhumans.   It would appear that this symbol represents something of a collective memory of all Inhuman peoples, a unifying tether connoting that they were all created and connected by way of the Primagen, the ‘prima materia.’  

Way back in issue number three, it was revealed that Maximus went through Terrigenesis in utero, exposed to an ultra purified rendering of the Terrigen.  Maximus’ parents were obsessed with understanding the Terrigen, uncovering its connection to the prima materia.  Their experiments imbued Maximus with an enhanced awareness that has allowed him to see and understand the true mechanisms of Primagen.  He could see that Flint was able to lead them to the hub by way of a pre-programed knowledge sewn into the fabric of his being (into the fabric of all Inhumans).  Likewise, Maximus understood that proximity to the central Primagen crystal augmented Swain’s power.  The others were shocked by Swain’s ability to fell the two Progenitors, but Maximus was not.  He understands that the Primagen is the key to unlocking unlimited powers in Inhumans.  

It is Medusa’s goal to provide the earthly Inhumans with a new source of Terrigen, yet it is unlikely that Maximus will be satisfied by such a relatively small accomplishment.  Maximus feels it his destiny to bring far greater things to his people; he wants them to ascend to godliness, and it is likely that he sees the Primagen as the key to achieving such a thing.  

Swain’s experience of having her powers bolstered via proximity to the Primagen offered a very interesting interlude in the action.  Her quasi-communion with Ash and reconciliation over the nature of their relationship made for kind of a jarring intermission.  Still, it proved a stirring and emotional scene as well as a compelling exploration of the nature of affect.  

Because Ash does not experience or process emotion in the more mainstream conventional sense, it can be possible to arrive at the erroneous conclusion that she cannot feel or express love… that she is unable to reciprocate the affection that Swain gives her.  Yet the difficulty here is not with Ash and her emotional functioning… rather the difficulty lies with Swain and the confines and limitations of ability to understand emotional in a multidimensional fashion.  This is a common dilemma faced by many individuals identified as being on the further-left end of the so-called ‘Autistic Spectrum.’  Quite often these individuals are mistakenly viewed as being unable to feel or express emotion.  This is incorrect.  It’s not that they cannot feel or express emotion, but rather they do so in a fashion that is different then the predominant conventional norm.  Emotion is far too complex and multifaceted to be confined to a narrow modality of expression.  Accepting the possibilities of a multitude of different pathways for relaying and understanding affect helps to open a broader understanding of emotion as a whole.  

The boost in her powers that Swain experiences provides her a crash course in multidimensional emotion.  It allows her to better understand the different but equal ways in which Ash experiences affect as well as enabling her the ability to utilize this enhanced power to take out the attacking Progenitors.  

very cool stuff!

Right from the onset of this series we were told that one of the cast members was destined to die.  It was part of the hook that writer, Al Ewing, dangled out there to create dramatic tension and a sense of looming peril.  Plenty of clues and red herrings were offered up regarding which member of the team was destined to perish.  Medusa’s illness made her the first likely candidate, and she is still by no means safe.  She continues to be bedeviled by this mysterious illness; yet if she is able to succeed in bringing Terrigen back to earth it stands to reason that her ailment will remit.   Flint was the next potential candidate after it was revealed that his laying hands on the Sky Spear had initiated a significant change in his being.  And he too is not exactly safe.  He may not die, but it looks as though he is in the process of transforming into the mysterious Moon King, a creature destined to lay in doormat stasis for thousands of years.   Yet neither of these two ended up being the one to die.  Rather it was Gorgon who valiantly sacrificed himself to allow the others to escape.  

Gorgon was actually my earliest guess as to which character was going to perish.  I’m certainly not happy about it, but can nonetheless understand the decision to have him be the one to die.  Gorgon has changed and grown a great deal over the last few years.  He has transformed from the impulsive and headstrong brawler into a more introspective and compassionate soul.  The time in which Gorgon was paralyzed and confined to a wheelchair forced him to reconsider and reevaluate his ways and his legacy.  He let go off his violent and hedonistic ways and instead fully embraced his role as a teacher and parental figure.  He owed up to his failings as a father to young Petras, making amends by taking under his wing lost souls in need of guidance such as Flint, Naja and Dante.  

Gorgon was even able to finally express his love for Medusa, a forbidden love that he kept buried for years in fear that it was inappropriate and would prove unwanted.  Seeing herself as dying and freed from the confines of her duty as Black Bolt’s queen, Medusa was able to reciprocate this love and Gorgon came to know a brief albeit fleeting happiness in Medusa’s arms.   That and Gorgon was granted the kind of death befitting what he had always aspired to be - a nobel warrior and guardian of his people.  

A constant in the world of superhero comics is that death is not a constant.  Mr. Ewing has stated that the Inhuman who dies in his story will remain dead as long as he is writing the book.  And yet it appears quite possible that Mr. Ewing’s tenure stewarding The Inhumans may end with the conclusion of the upcoming event, Inhumans: Judgement Day.   In short, it is possible that Gorgon may return some time in the future.  It may not be for a long, long while, but in the world of comic book super heroes anything is possible.  I’m normally not a fan of resurrecting characters who have died... I feel it undermines the emotional heft of a given story.  In this case, however, I wouldn’t mind at all in that Gorgon is awesome and I already miss him.  

Intense action, wild, way-out concepts, cool character development and fantastic art.  It doesn’t get much better than this.  Five out of five Lockjaws.  

[zutara]

Zutara Headcanons Feels- Part II

(Original Zutara Headcanon meme) | (Part I )

I’ve had this ask and another one saved for like 2 years now but I really am not a writer guys, but I’m so tired of looking at the same unfinished draft so here we go, I tried my best. It’s now or never. 

I’ll post the second headcannon separately for obvious reasons.

♦ - Quirks/Hobbies Headcanon

01.

It all starts with an old book and a rare flower.

Zuko gives her the heavy tome for her twenty-sixth birthday, Known Plants of The Four Nations: A Study of Medicinal Botany, from what was once his grandmother’s own private library. To accompany it, Toph brings her back a rare medicinal flower from deep within the Earth Kingdom Jiang-Xi caverns. It takes her less than a week to devour the whole volume and although Katara would never admit to it, both flower and book quickly become her second most valued possession.

By the end of the month the water bender master has already put what she’s learned into good practice, effectively creating several new tonics and herbal draughts for her people. She is, after all, a born healer, and the efficiency of her medicine is quickly noted.

The discoveries her newfound hobby bring soon inspire the water bender master to start her own garden; cultivating a wide variety of plants and herbs while creating her own hybrid specimens in order to widen her research.  

It’s not long before word of Master Katara’s Garden gets around and sure enough Katara finds herself the recipient of plant life from all corners of the four nations, its senders as colorful and diverse as the plants themselves. Toph and Aang make a point to indulge her every time they travel, but it is Zuko who takes it upon himself to turn her studies into a prosperous national health project.

And that’s when the ‘love letters’ begin---metaphorically speaking, of course.

Or at least that’s what Toph tells her during one of their notorious mud masks –and-cocktails-slumber parties.

“The man has never been good with words so he’s courting you through actions.” Her friend deadpans while pouring another drink for herself. “Only problem is, you keep trying to convince yourself it’s all in the name of friendship.”

It takes Katara three shots of a bitter, awful smelling concoction (of Toph’s own invention, naturally) to finally accept the truth behind her friend’s words---and a couple more to forget she ever did.  She eventually tries to argue against the idea, but there’s simply no winning against Toph Beifong.

“Oh, Sugar Queen, you can lie to yourself all you want but you’ll never be able to lie to me! I can feel your heartbeat speed up just at the mention of the poor boy!”

They finish Toph’s hellish contraband and now move on to a bright purple bottle containing some sparkly fruity alcoholic drink Suki sent as way of apology for missing out on tonight.  Katara could no longer remember her own name and Toph could no longer properly stand, but onward they went, exhuming truths.  

“And you know what the saddest part is?” the earth bender continues, grabbing Katara’s face between her hands.

“That I’m this drunk and I still can’t block out the sound of your voice?”

“No! The pathetic bit is that you’re both pinning after each other while failing to notice the other feels exactly the same way. We all know Sparky digs you! So can’t we just skip over the small talk and jump straight into matrimony!?  Iroh wants grandchildren and he isn’t getting any younger, you know.”

And that’s exactly when Katara decides to shove her friend right into the mud pool, drink and all, before promptly stumbling to the nearest shrubbery to throw up.

02. 

It’s a miserably hot, humid morning.

Katara sits outside among the flower beds underneath the shade of an old oak, nursing a hot cup of ginger tea for her aching stomach. Toph had left only a few minutes before, claiming breakfast and sparing practice with Iroh, but not before leaving her with one last question about a certain fire bender.  

“Is it really that difficult for you to see how much he cares for you?”

She knew the answer before the word even left her lips.

“No.”

She had known it all along. And perhaps that’s what had terrified her.

His feelings had clearly always been there for her to see. Marked in every action and in every kindness; veiled in each hand written note thoughtfully added to the many margins of all the books he had given her throughout the years. Colorfully woven in the way every new envelope full of seeds he sent while apart came with a detailed drawing of what the plant would eventually look like during all its stages.

But most of all she felt it in the way he looked at her, as if she was his favorite unresolved riddle in the entire world. Like a paradox he was now too fond of to give up on.  

A soft, euphotic smile dances across her lips despite the sharp stomach pains, the thought of him loving her as more than a friend warming her more than any tea ever could.

03. 

Like in all previous visits to her oasis he comes bearing dumplings and green tea. In turn Katara has a trey of his favorite sweet cakes waiting for him, still warm from the oven. He’s discarded his royal tunic for the day and sports his sparing clothing instead, ready to spend the next few hours weeding overgrown flower beds and teaching her more hand-to-hand combat.

They find solace in each other’s company, their conversation flowing easily as usual. Laughter comes just as naturally and Katara decides she rather likes making the young Fire Lord smile, a feat not many can claim to nowadays. Rebuilding the world from the ashes of war and prejudice had taken its toll on the young dragon, as they now called him, but to her he’d always be simply her Zuko. So when he nonchalantly lays his head on her lap to rest during tea time, she runs her fingers through his hair and lays a chaste kiss on his brow without a second thought or care in the world. It’s overwhelming and confusing, yet nothing in her life had ever felt so damn right.

She ignores the little voice inside her head whispering that nothing in her life had ever come easy, and so why should this be any different? But the sun feels wonderful on her skin, there’s a cool breeze ruffling every single leaf in her garden, and there’s a handsome slumbering Fire Lord on her lap; and so Katara pushes the nagging voice away, hoping for better days.

04. 

 He’s beaten her 2 out of 3 matches by the time he calls a truce. They had taunted each other as they sparred, pushing each other harder than they had ever done before. Her joins scream in protest as she tries to move to the nearest chair, and there’s definitely a new bruise on her thigh from her last fall. Zuko follows after her, massaging a sore shoulder and grinning as he went. “I’ll be feeling that kick tomorrow.” He tells her, and it’s her turn to grin. She had returned as much as she had gotten despite her loss.

“I’ll heal it before you leave, you big baby.”

He lies on the floor at her feet, exhausted, smiling at her like any cheeky kid would.

But when the sun retires for the evening, so does the fire bender. Katara suddenly finds herself making insignificant small talk just to keep him a little bit longer but duty and exhaustion eventually win the battle regardless. It was time for him to go.

He towers well over her as he pauses momentarily to tenderly kiss her cheek, hugging her close while whispering a quick good night as he went. She barely has time to mumble a quick reply before he’s gone and she’s left watching his retreating back, chest still aching.

The gossamer feel of his lips on her skin lingers, and although the tress nearby are still merrily dancing in the cool breeze, her whole body feels as if it were on fire.  

Katara decides that the next time he dared kiss her, it better damn well be on her lips. 

[lovehaswonangelnumbers]

New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/full-moon-in-sagittarius-june-17th-2019-a-gift-of-cosmic-love/

Full Moon in Sagittarius, June 17th, 2019 ~ A Gift of Cosmic Love

FCGCT Commentary: We are moving from the mind, to the Heart… not the balancing of the two. The mind conflicts with the Heart, and is the cause for imbalance, pain, fear, suffering and more. It is the Heart and Brain which work in harmony together. The mind… the ego, blocks the Heart, as it Edges God Out. It is the Heart and Brain which work in harmony to allow Balanced Harmonics, your Divine Blueprint. Let go of the mind, and solely flow from the Heart, connected to the Unified Heart in Unity Consciousness.

Full Moon in Sagittarius, June 17th, 2019 ~ A Gift of Cosmic Love

By Natalia Alba

The moment you have in your heart this extraordinary thing called love and feel the depth, the delight, the ecstasy of it, you will discover that for you the world is transformed. Jiddu Krishnamurti    Beloved Light Emissaries, 

We are about to welcome one of the most powerful Moons of this year, before the coming of the Eclipses next month, whose energies are already deeply felt. A Moon that aligns with the Galactic Center and that Jupiter enhances – helping us to connect more with its essence of hope, trust and faith. The Full Moon at 25 degrees of Sagittarius synchronizes with two important comic events: Jupiter square Neptune and Saturn sextile Neptune. This will give us the gift of embracing the infinite possibilities that are always there for us to create the reality that is in perfect resonance with our Soul Will.   During this Full Moon the ones who have done the inner work of leaving behind what impeded them to see the Truth of who they are and their purpose here, will be able to descend more Wisdom from their God Self, for one of the many gifts from this Moon is the opportunity to retrieve what was lost while we dwell in human illusions, searching outside what always resided within.    This is not a time to look back, bringing the ashes of the old into our current state of being and hence, spoiling the frequency that we presently hold. This is a time, as Saturn sextile Neptune reminds us, for hope, trust and determination as Mercury conjunct Mars will remind us, as it will assist us in directing all of our inner power in building something productive. Hope is one of the things that is easily left aside, for a humans, especially when we are experiencing challenges, we believe it to be impossible to hold faith and hope, while everything that surrounds us is crumbling.

This is precisely when we most need to have faith, when everything is falling apart. It is then that we need to understand that old things are vanishing while new seeds are beginning to grow. Our focus is pivotal when we are leaving behind old aspects of the self and our human life. We can choose to focus on what is being created or in what we are releasing. Where you decide to focus will determine the essence of the new seeds that are being born. Therefore, choose wisely where you desire to put your intention and energy.   The frequency of hope helps us do what in normal conditions we could not accomplish. It gives us courage, energizes our body and offers us the opportunity to clear ourselves, especially our mental body, which is essential if we desire to co-create a balance and joyful reality. There is a lot we have to learn, as humans, regarding the effects of having hope in our physical bodies. As physical beings we tend to see hope as useless when we are in very challenging situations, not understanding that this is precisely what saves us from falling into lower vibrations.   If we desire to work with hope, the cosmic events from this Full Moon together with our cosmic family the Arcturians, will help us achieve this state of being, for Arcturians are helping humanity in regaining hope, faith and in retrieving our natural ability as healers, as it is in our Divine Essence, and as it is meant to be reclaimed, when we work on DNA reconnection.    As we also have Jupiter square Neptune, we have the opportunity to use this frequency for many purposes. If we are working on trusting and surrendering to our Soul Will, then we have the opportunity to cultivate patience and trust that a Higher Intelligence knows what is happening in our human experience and knows what is doing. For as humans, we often try to control, and manipulate, what we cannot even see from our human standpoint.    If what you desire is to expand into your soul mission, descending more aspects of it, and using this new knowledge to be of assistance, then, this frequency from this cosmic encounter, will help you to bring from your Unified Self all you need to, to be of service in a broader way. As the Essence of Neptune is also a very profound one, for it deeply touches the depths of our human self, making conscious what is buried by our egoic self, it is a good time to work with human delusions and magical thinking, something that if we have a tendency to it or if we are beginning on this journey, can occur, and actually it is good that it occurs, for it is by experiencing the many human delusions we have that we finally remember the Truth, again.   This Moon passage is going to be a blessed time for us to work on compassion, being of service, in our unique way, and a wonderful opportunity to cultivate generosity, harmony and balance. This phase is very important, as when the eclipses come, many will be shaken again and it will be vital to remain in our heart center, as we witness the many changes that may come with the embodiment of these new energies.  

Wound Healing

 On a deeper perspective, the Full Moon will also occur very near some stars from the constellation Ophiuchus. As you know I prefer to feel the energies myself and receive from my Unified Self the Essence of the Planets, stars etc. that are co-creating with us. I do not follow traditional astrology to interpret them, as sometimes it is based on human interpretations – mythology etc – which is quite beautiful. However, it does not help us to truly feel the real frequency behind these stellar energies.   This is why I always say to take only what resonates with where you are and your own path. Ophiuchus’s Essence if well directed can help us tremendously to heal old wounds. If what we desire is to work with old wounding issues that are still impeding us to be in total harmony and flow, then we have at the Full Moon time, the opportunity to work with the power of Fire from Sagittarius or choose the element Water of Ophiuchus. Both clear us, help us release, and while one – Sagittarius – can seem more potent that the other, do not underestimate the power of Water to carry away what no longer serves us.   Ophiuchus will help many who are also working with self-unification. This is something that as ascending souls we all are working with, at the moment, for this is the opportunity that this dual universe offers us. Ophiuchus gives us the gift to work with purification, which is at the same time what Sagittarius gives us as well, but in a different way. If we desire to incinerate the old and resurrect into the crystalline light beings that we are, then Ophiuchus is the perfect frequency that we could align with to do so. In any case, both Essences are here to help us in similar purposes, our choice depends on whether we choose one element or the other to experience the healing we wish to bring into our physical bodies.    Ophiuchus is also a wonderful ally if we desire to work with past traumas, DNA reconnection, genetic clearing and if we have done so, it is then a pure frequency for us to connect with it and begin to retrieve our memories from parallel dimensions, for as you know, all is happening Now, and we dwell in many timeliness that at the same time affect us, as we also affect our parallel selves.    For those who are beginning to awake, the Ophiuchus influence will help them with their Kundalini rising as well as with the proper management of their first chakra, which is pivotal once we begin to awake. As Ophiuchus is also related to our masculine essence, it is an opportunity for those who are working on manifestation as well as polarity integration and have their masculine essence imbalance, to embody this frequency and work with inner synthesis, as Ophiuchus is the unifier that helps us bring together that which our 3D nature separates.    Beloved Ones, we are indeed immersed in a profound shift, as many of us are already feeling and prepare ourselves for the coming of the Eclipses. It is a time for change, and when change hits us, the best course of action, as all the planetary alignments at this Moon time remind us, is to be flexible, flow, surrender and trust that even though we have free will and create our own reality, there are Forces, with which we agreed before coming into this physical plane, that are assisting us to follow the path we so carefully chosen for us to experience.    Our task is not to question ourselves or these Forces all the time, especially if something does not happen according to our egoic desires. Our task is to trust that whatever happens, these Forces know what shall be for the Highest Good of All, and our main aim is to accept what we have no control upon.    This Moon gives us the opportunity to align with the cosmic love that we, in Essence, are. This is a Moon to have faith, to honor ourselves and personal journey, remembering that it was this same Cosmic Love that brought us here, in an attempt to assist a Planet which is already transitioning into a state of deep fragmentation into unity consciousness.    This Moon is a gift for us to cultivate hope and generosity. It is in our nature to be generous, to have hope and trust in a Higher Power. We do not have to possess material things to be generous; we can simply be kind, offer a smile and be who we are to be of service.    We are Love. We are already the miracle that we so hope from the outside to come and save us. We are the creative Spark that creates our reality. We are all we have ever desired or hope for. We just have to look within rather than being continuously searching in the wrong places and people, and find, again, the way back to ourselves, where all we desire truly dwells.   I wish you a blessed and magical Moon, Beloved Ones.    Remain, always, in the Illumined Presence of your Soul, where hope, faith and trust abide and where you will always find your way back Home.   In love and light ∞   Natalia Alba 

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[nyotasaimiri]

Nyota

Last chapter tomorrow (might be an epilogue later if I scratch the thoughts together in time)

Her body drifted in the void, still transfixed by the bone spar that had killed her. Blood froze in glittering icicles around the wound, dark against her frost-whitened fur. But it wasn’t her, not anymore. Whatever had made her Nyota was gone, scattered like ashes around the stiff, cold corpse. Warmth had vanished in the Ruin’s prison when the Ruin shattered. Now, the dimension itself was beginning to dissolve.

Awareness came slowly. She was fragmented, disjointed, like glass caught in a rough current and smashed against the rocks—or was she the current itself, too fast and wild to even be, tearing itself apart? Panic seized her; the current felt it, and grew calm.

Stars gleamed in the darkness. Their whispers reached her as the prison walls melted away, the faint sparks of color reflecting in her dark, sightless eyes. No, not stars—souls. Lives. One of them shone so near her, as yellow as Sol… She was still so shattered but she wanted to follow it—it felt right—

Something caught her and whispered, “Not yet.”

A vast hand curved around her as if cradling her body and what was left of her soul. Her own life was long gone, ripped away when the bone spar tore through her heart, but the hand’s touch felt like Life itself.

“Protector…” The voice came from all around her, almost a song. “Do not follow the myriad souls of those that came before you. Though even I succumbed to the Ruin... ”

She felt the current pull at her again, but gently, sweeping the shattered pieces back into herself. Tiny blue lights danced over her icy fur, sparking as they brushed the long fingers. And still the voice murmured.

“When we fought, I shattered: broke apart into near infinite pieces… Much was simply lost, though fragments of myself, ancient and wild, broke away and became something new… What little of myself remained stayed to watch what I had left behind.”

The hand shifted, and a shock ran through her awareness as the lights melded with her. She held her own form again, a pale copy of the corpse that drifted beneath her, frayed and broken at the edges but almost whole. The voice was closer now, its lilting whisper seeming to come from all around her as air began to collect in tiny bubbles along her body, stirring her frost-stiffened hair.

“You united my artifacts, Protector. The six races I gifted now stand as one. You have planted a seed of peace that will grow and spread throughout this vast universe.” She could hear a smile in the voice as the current grew still. “The Ruin is destroyed, the universe is saved, but there is still so much to do. And now, to you, I give my final gift—the last of myself.”

The great hand curled around her and she felt… she felt. Pain—blinding, if souls had eyes, and she had eyes, streaming from the agony and narrowed to slits against all the stars all around her, above and below as far as she could see. She felt their light stabbing at her as she became dark, heavy, aching flesh and bone. A finger brushed the bone spar and it melted into crimson light, spiraling away as her blood thawed and heat burned along her heart, surging through her veins. That first heartbeat felt like it would tear her apart again. She gasped and choked on the air, warmth filling her frozen lungs. Memory of death seared her skin and she screamed—then laughed, the pain suddenly so much less than the joy of having a voice, hearing that voice, breathing.

“Return, Protector,” the Cultivator whispered. “Live again.”

[topazshadowwolf]

Dadster (Chapter 7)

The Great and Wonderful Dr. W.D. Dadster

With the best story title, ever, if he must say so himself. Clearly it will go down in his-story

An Undertale Fanfiction by: Topaz Shadowwolf Undertale is owned by: Toby Fox Rating: Teen for mild cursing, violence and to give me some wiggle room for later down the road Heads up: Cursing, violence … not all sure, still in development AO3 Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6

Random notes:   Hey! I know it’s been awhile since I posted a chapter of this story. I just was feeling a little discouraged. Anyway, I’ll try to get back to writing this story more often because I really love it.

Chapter 6: I... I wasn’t expecting that, honestly...

Gaster doubted it was over. He won a battle but not the war. Chara knew about his son and his secret lab. How long did he have? That would depend on Chara. In all truth, he didn't know if she would try anything else, or if he was just being paranoid. But he felt he needed to move from this lab and hide all sensitive documents.

As far as he knew, he still had a few locations in his lab that the human child knew nothing about. They were nothing but simple closet like spaces to store equipment and documents. Is it suspicious? Oh yes! Had he known another scientist with a lab like this he would wonder what they were up to. But Gaster trusted himself.

Well, yes, he did somehow beat the odds, create a life with the intent on turning said life into an instrument of war. But he clearly had enough moral fiber to turn back from that project. Thus, he reasoned, he should be allowed to have a work space like this. A shame it might no longer be so private

He gathered every note he had on Sans and opened the top drawer of the filing cabinet. Lifting the false bottom, he stored all that precious data away. Burning it might be a better option later, but right now he would have no means to cover up the smell of smoke or reasonable place to hide the ashes.

(Besides, there is always the off chance he might want another.)

Picking Sans up, his ethereal hands grabbed up all the baby items and shoved them into the hidden closet spaces. He would have to hide everything for now, and hope to move it to his new location later. Luckily Sans is easy to entertain and sleeps a lot. A few hours without toys should pass fairly well.

There was nothing he could do for the makeshift crib or children’s bookcase. He will just have to think of a reasonable lie for both if Chara leads Asgore here. Luckily for him, the king will believe nearly anything he tells him. If all the children's books and blankets are hidden away there won't be any evidence against his claim. Now he had a new problem. Moving Sans through the facility unseen, and (more importantly) where to move him.

After some thought he decided on wing A. No one used that lab wing anymore. It was the first wing of the true lab, after the decision to not expand the upper level. It wasn't until he justified the need for more space that the other wings added. So, all the equipment was old, and the offices were small, compared to the newest ones.

Destination decided, he then bundled the small skeleton up and placed him in a box. Perhaps it wasn’t the most dignified way to move his son; but, feeling rushed, it was the only answer he had. Sans, luckily, was ready for a nap now that his dad is here and whatever trauma he went through was over.

The two made their way through the facility, mostly unbothered. Gaster was happy for this. It appears his mood from earlier left an impact. Unfortunately, this was not to last, a bird looking monster in a lab coat approached with a feline, dress in CORE engineer uniform.

“Sir,” she trilled, “I know you are busy, but you need to see these numbers.”

“It can wait,” he said, walking passed.

“No, it can’t,” snapped the engineer. He quickly moved in front of Gaster and waved the papers in his face. “Now, ya might have this lot bowing to ya as if yer the king, but that ain't going to work with me!”

Gaster was taken aback by this, “Clearly. Make your point, but lower your voice, if you would so kind. I have a skull ache.” In truth, he felt Sans move in the box. Last thing he needed was his son waking and crying.

“I don't care if yer head pops off! My workers are in danger, have been in danger. The CORE is overheatin’ and anytime I ask if ya know, they turn me away.”

“Let me see those,” Gaster said, handing the box he was holding over to the bird monster. He took the papers and read them over. He was surprised by the readings. “There seems to be more strain on it.”

“There's more monsters than there used ta be,” the engineer said, “more things usin’ energy too. We are maintainin’ her well, but she can't keep this up. And I don't think I need to tell you what could happen if she broke.”

“No, you don't,” he thought for a moment, “for now we will have to limit energy use. Shorter day cycles too. I won't kill monster kind to have less light for a while, considering we nearly spent a year in the dark.” Gaster then looked at the Head Engineer of The CORE, “I will look for solutions in the meantime.”

“Thank ya,” the feline nodded and turned away, mumbling, “‘bout flippin’ time, gotta do everthin’ m’self.”

Gaster started to make his way again, looking over The CORE’s recent temperatures and maintenance reports. He was sure he had developed a strong enough coolant. Were they using a bad batch? Nope. The engineer's report states they not only check the quality of the coolant, but switch it as well.

“Sir, your box?” The bird monster called out to him.

Box?

SANS!

The speed at which he turned nearly left him dizzy as he all but ran back to retrieve his son. Sans must have made a sound or moved as the bird monster started to lift a flap. Before she could see in, he placed the reports and his hand on the top of the box.

With an empty socket stare, he said slowly, “Thank you, for bringing these concerns to my attention. And thank you, also, for holding my box.” The bird hesitated, “I believe this is when you say, ‘you’re welcome.’”

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome, Doctor,” she said, surrendering the box to Gaster.

He looked at her for a moment, not wanting to leave it at this. After all, she did make sure that this was brought to his attention. The safety of monster kind is more important to him than providing them with energy. If no solution is found, he’d rather shut The CORE down than have it break.

He lit his eye sockets, giving her two white dots to look at verses empty darkness. “I have a task for you. Find everyone who turned the engineer away. I have made myself available, and by no means would I be too busy to deal with any problems with The CORE.”

Having lights in his eyes again seemed to relax her, “Of course, Doctor. I’ll get on that right away.” With an approving nod, Gaster turned to resume moving Sans to the A wing.

Just as he was rounding the corner a voice called out from behind him, “Doctor, you have a, uh, royal visitor.”

“AS EXPECTED!” Gaster called back, “tell our king that I will be there right away!”

“D-doctor, about that-”

“Just tell him,” he said picking up his pace. He needed to stash his son somewhere, stat. Luckily, King Asgore was not an impatient monster.

He was most of the way down the hall when there was a loud pop. From above green, shimmering, magic bullets, in the shape of stars and planets with rings, filter down before fizzling out of existence. With Gaster’s health already at full, any that touched him did nothing.

A black banner unfurled before him, the words “Welcome To The Space” was written in large, white, painted letters. (Squeezed in at the end was “Department”. Gaster didn't see it till later). Around the words was an almost accurate depiction of the night sky.

“Welcome, Doctor Gaster!” A dark blue, monitor lizard monster with bright green stripes said. “My name is Doctor M. R., the current head of the Space Department by default. Since, you know, you never assigned anyone else here.”

Space Department? When did his lab have a Space Department? He thought hard as she continued talking. And then he remembered the day he assigned someone to a nonexistent department. (You know, back at the beginning of the project to make a weapon) The information he gathered, about the social requirements for a young monster to grow up stable, was hers.

Before now, he didn’t notice she was leading him down the hall to lab A-1. In it was a few interesting inventions. As he looked around he started listening again, “Now, I know I have been fudging the numbers. Claiming there are 3 people in this department, but that is the least amount of people required for a department to be valid. It is annoying trying to collect the check though, as each time they have no idea I’m working here. Which is fine by me, really, I don’t mind working alone. But, moving on, I only take my pay and use the rest to fund my experiments. Making this, over all, the cheapest but among the more useful departments. Seeing has how space travel is currently out of the question, I feel I have enough time to fully explore how space travel would be possible. Also, how we could potentially colonize a new planet.” She waved a hand over to a variety of plants, “Those are some surface plants that were brought down as seeds. As you can see I cultivated-”

“How much of this does Asgore know about?” Gaster asked, sure that Asgore never would have funded this “department.”

“Uh… well, not much. I keep my reports to him very vague. And use…,” she hummed a soft tone before continuing, “words that may go over his kingly head. Not an easy task, mind you. On paper this is the ‘Astro-exploratory, Quantum Physics and Mechanics Department for a Brighter Tomorrow.’ I thought the end part added a nice flare.”

“How did you know I was coming?” Gaster looked at Doctor M. R.

She waved her hand to a screen, on it was several views of the hall, rooms, and even the lab they were in, “my monitors. I have the entire wing under surveillance for just this moment.”

“For… just the moment I might walk down here?”

“I have to make sure to give you a proper welcome,” she smiled big, humming to herself in contentment. As Gaster continued thinking in silence the lizard fidgeted nervously.

“If Asgore were to walk in now, what wouldn't you show him?” Gaster said and watched for her reaction.

She pointed her index fingers at him as if they were guns, in a playful manner, while she smirked, “don't you mean: what would I show him?” When Gaster was slow to respond, she cleared her throat, “I mean, I have a few things that don't fall in the more… theoretical… it is hard to prove this departments worth, but I assure you, Doctor, if you don't shut this de-”

“Who said anything about shutting this down? I CLEARLY had reason for creating this department,” Gaster bluffed his way through. He then handed the box containing Sans to her. “Keep him safe and make sure no one knows about him, or I will shut this down. Understand?”

“Yeeeees?” She looked a little confused, then looked at the box as he started to walk away.

“Give away my secret and I will do the same to you.” Gaster added, loudly, as he walked down the hall.

“Your secret is safe with me!” She called back, almost singing it. She said something more, but he didn't have time. Asgore may be a patient king, but he won't wait forever.

  Doctor Melody Of The River (or M. R. or just Dr. R. as she often signs her name) had poked her head out of the lab and said, “Wait! Did you say him?” But Doctor Gaster obviously didn't hear her or cared. With a sigh, she walked over to a table to set the box down.

On her way there, she could have sworn she a sound… a very distinct sound. The kind of sound that anyone with a strong paternal instinct reacts to. Setting the box on the table she opened it, and, despite knowing what she heard, was surprised.

Two, half opened eye sockets looked up at her with two fuzzy eye lights. The small skeleton wiggled, as if trying to stretch, but the blanket he was wrapped in was preventing such movement. In the effort, he made a few small grunts before sighing and giving up.

“Who puts a baby in a box? Come here, you,” River reached in and picked the child up. Last she heard, Gaster never remarried after his wife died. To top that off, there was no rumor of a lover of any kind, and she was certain she heard he was the last skeleton alive.

So then… where did this one come from?

(In truth, she had an idea. After all, she worked with theatrical science. She knew something can’t just appear from nothing, and she heard the rumors of Gaster hurting his hand doing something no one knew anything about. Still, even to her, it seemed farfetched.)

A light and a beep let Doctor R. know someone was walking down the hall. Glancing up, she saw the human child of the royal family on the monitors running this way. Well, it is a good thing Doctor R. had researched many different monster types. She knew the perfect hiding spot.

  Gaster hurried to the upper lab, and what he saw was not King Asgore. No, that was, definitely, not the King. But it was indeed a “royal visitor.” A very annoyed and angry one. One that he would not have kept waiting for this long had he known.

“Your Majesty,” Gaster said as he walked forward, keeping a calm demeanor.

Queen Toriel’s burgundy eyes, like two garnets, looked right at him with a glare that nearly made him recoil. Chara chose well in picking this boss monster to confront Gaster. Asgore was not a bad ruler, but he was very tolerant. Toriel, on the other hand, was the type who won’t stand for nonsense, and was a mother bear when it came to defending her children.

“Cut the crap,” she said with a snarl. She bent over slightly to stare Gaster right in the eye sockets. She made sure she wasn’t looming over him as she glared with a flame in her eyes, that he knew not to ignore. Gaster respected that about her, when it came to matters like this, she didn’t use her position and height to intimidate. As if she needed those to threaten someone, especially someone who knew her before being underground. “Right now, I want to talk like we did back during the war. No titles, no obligatory niceties, and none of that sugar coating or dropping of relevant details you do for my husband.”

Well, this is happening…

Placing his hands in his lab coat pockets, Gaster looked back at Toriel. “Then, Toriel, what can I do for you?”

“Why did my child come home, crying, saying you threatened them,” Toriel stood back to her full height and looked down at him, most likely to spare her back.

She wanted him to be straight forward with her, then that’s what she’ll get. With a casual shrug he said, “What was your child doing unsupervised in my lab?”

“That doesn’t give you the right to terrorize them!” Toriel snapped, “They came home, looking as pale as a ghost!”

So, Chara made the transition from ‘her’ to ‘them.’ Fine, he’ll respect that. “You’re lucky they didn’t come home just a soul.” Toriel snarled and Gaster continued, giving her a deadpan stare, “My lab is not safe for children.”

“They said you threatened them,” Toriel’s fangs gleamed as she exposed more of them when her lips curled back. As a skeleton, he tends to notice teeth, horns, and other bits of bone that protrudes from his, more fleshy, fellow monsters. Yet, before this moment, he never considered how sharp Toriel's fangs appeared.

(Despite Toriel's and Asgore being “goat monsters” and having some resemblance to the herbivore; calling them as such can result in a short sightedness. After all, what goat has large paws? Or fangs? This is something Gaster is learning.)

“L-Lady, I mean,” Everyone who wasn't watching with interest now was. Not only did Gaster, the proud, self-secured, skeleton he was just stutter, but he took a hesitant half step backwards while holding out his hand defensively; clearly wanting to escape.

But that notion was denied, as Toriel reach out and grabbed him by his coat, holding him in place. “Why, old friend,” she uttered venomously, “are you trying to flee? Perhaps you are guilty of something?”

‘This is how I die,’ Gaster thought, ‘surrounded by backstabbers who’d rather gawk than help. All the while Sans, my son… Sans!’

What would happen to his son if he died here? (Not that Toriel would actually kill him. Well, she might have, had she wittiness what occurred earlier.) He didn't want Sans to be orphaned. What would they do if they figured out his secret? Would they treat him as the child he is? Or as the thing he was originally going to be?

Gaster narrowed his eye sockets, glaring back at Toriel, “Are you insinuating something? Is there a crime you think I am guilty of?”

“According to Chara, you have a child locked up in a secret lab downstairs,” Toriel’s hand was trembling with pent up rage.

“Nonsense! While I will confess to having my own private section of this facility, I would never lock up a child! Monster or human, at that.”

Toriel watched his face carefully, looking for any hints of lying. Not seeing anything she released him, “It didn’t seem like something that Chara would just make up. Children have their imaginations, but that is beyond what I’ve normally heard from them.”

Gaster straightened his jacket, calming his nerves further in the process. “Well, if I had to guess,” he started, looking down at himself before looking back up at the Queen, “your child misunderstood what it is I am working on.”

“Is that so?” She folded her arms, face relaxing slightly, but the anger was still present. “Well, then, why don’t you show me what it is you are working on? And this ‘private section.’”

“Of course, if you would follow me,” Gaster turned, his gut instincts were right about moving labs. Toriel will be more skeptical, and thus, harder to convince than Asgore, but she can be reasoned with.

As they descend into the lab, Gaster ignored the stares as he passed by his workers. Let them gawk. This was a make or break moment, and his son remaining hidden would depend all on a monster he knew nothing about.

  “Hello there, Chara,” Dr. R. sang out more than spoke, “It is an honor-”

“Where is it?” Chara snapped.

This was intriguing to the lizard monster, and she tilted her head, “Where is what?” Dr. R hummed, “Wouldn’t have happened to hear of my latest project? And here I thought it was kept a secret.”

“I’m talking about the thing Gaster brought you,” Chara huffed.

The lizard monster brightened up, “Oooh that! Well, I’m surprised you would find interest in it. But if that is what you want to see, if you would just follow me~”

With a simple wave of a claw like hand, she gestured for the human child to follow. They walked together from the lab and down the hall a short way. Dr. R lead the human to a room with filing cabinets, “Now, I put that box in one of these….” She hummed, “but I can’t remember which.”

“He was just here, how did you forget?” Chara sighed, “Look, I don’t want to hurt it, I just want to see what it can do.”

“Not sure I understand,” Dr. R. frowned, “But the box is somewhere in here… Shall we look?” She smiled brightly, and the human sighed and started opening drawers. All the while Dr. R. hummed an unheard song, sometimes singing a lyric or two.

Just Chara’s luck, the box was in the last cabinet checked. It was time wasted, but there was something that needed to be confirmed, and only by interacting with the thing would Chara know. Taking a deep breath, eager to relax, Chara reached over to lift the box flaps.

[mellissahaskell-blog]

Ash A Forgotten Garden Plant For Private Gardens.

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