#cw terminal illness

[cowpokezuko]

Unlikely Lovers.

[alto-tenure]

has anyone thought about Iris's brain cancer as much as I have.

according to Ota, "Invincible Rainbow Arrow" was written by Iris after visiting a kid in the hospital that had cancer. I don't necessarily think that it's false, but that definitely isn't the whole truth, and learning about Iris's diagnosis really puts that song into perspective.

"revolt!/even with death impending" really feels like Iris trying to muster some resistance for herself. she's trying to live. she's trying to make her own world better. death is coming for her, but she won't make it easy.

and she doesn't tell anyone about it either. to our knowledge, the only person who knew about Iris's diagnosis before the events of the game was her mother and the doctors she saw for it. none of Iris's friends knew. Renju might have, but it's unconfirmed. Iris kept it to herself -- she didn't want to be the idol with brain cancer. she wanted to be A-set.

Iris's joy and optimism aren't false, either: they come from a very real desire to keep going, to live through every moment. if she gives up, then she's giving in to the fact that her cancer is likely going to kill her, and her mental state is half the battle.

she was told that she was probably going to die, and her response to that was to carry on. to keep going with her purpose. she started A-set by hoping against hope, and she keeps A-set going by continuing to hope against hope.

[cac-deadlyrang]

Bluey: Flash Forward (Future AU): Bluey Headcanons

Full name: Bluey Christine Pastore (née Heeler)

33 years old as of 2045

She/they

The only non-queer member (but still an ally) of her generation of the Heeler family

Married to neither Mackenzie nor Jean-Luc, but a Lessinia and Lagorai Shepherd (Pastore della Lessinia e del Lagorai) named Smudge

Mackenzie and Jean-Luc were best men at her wedding

Lives in an apartment on Warren Street in Fortitude Valley with an interior color of red.

Tradie (specifically Aircraft Maintenance Engineer)

Works at Brisbane Airport

Nearly died to canine distemper at age 10, Has minor neurological issues (particularly winking and chewing gum fit tics), PTSD, and chronic pain as a result of said distemper

Has implant dentures for some teeth due to having said post-distemper hypoplastic natural teeth removed

Epileptic

Type 1 diabetic

Is on a Mediterranean diet (since they were 10)

Has 2 children, an 8-year-old Pastoreeler named Basil (after the planned male name of the puppy Chilli miscarried) and a 6-year-old dingo named Ruby conceived through frozen embryo transfer.

Can speak French and Serbian fluently

Has a sense of humor similar to Vinesauce Joel

Takes CBD oil

Swears too much for her own good

Favorite animal is a raccoon

Likes bushwalking (hiking)

Owns a Soviet Panamka hat gotten from a thrift store, didn't really know the significance

Furry (which is kinda ironic, being that she’s an anthropomorphic dog)

Worst nightmares are dying to SUDEP and developing Alzheimer’s

Went to university to become a writer, but became dissatisfied with their work, constantly plagued with writer’s block and had an existential crisis, dropped out, and went to trade school instead

Forklift certified

Flying fox otherhearted

Favorite game series is Gran Turismo

[evolutionsbedingt]

Did somebody order pain on this lovely Friday?

Have some feelings about the end of Li Lianhua, inspired by a thought I had this morning. Meta-ish ramblings below the cut!

CW: terminal illness and resulting physical disabilities, suicidal ideation, open ending (equivalent with the special episode)

☆☆☆

You are called Li Xiangyi and everyone knows your hair is up in a jaunty ponytail. Simple guans hold it in place, not drawing any attention, not like the red ribbons trailing your every step like the love you inspire across the jianghu. 

You call yourself Li Lianhua and you buy the hairsticks and crowns and ribbons to match. They’re white now, for the grief that follows and forms your path, and hold a bun made of half of your hair. It’s so much easier to comb just half of it and in the weeks where your muscles and joints ache with the icy cold of the yin slowly poisoning your neili, you leave the bun for as long as you can stand it. 

You don’t call yourself by any name anymore, because you don’t remember which name was ever truly yours. You leave everything behind and hope that it too will do you the courtesy of letting you go. There are no more ribbons in your hair, only the bits of leather you use to tie it up. The hairstick you bought in return for all your other accessories is plain and the auntie who sold it to you said it’s as white as the morning sun. And your arms shake too much to keep them up for long, your shoulders protesting the twisting and pulling and holding. 

The first time you do your hair after not-dying again, the hairstick slips from your stiff fingers and your shoulders scream from staying up that long. 

The second time you have to lie down afterwards, short of breath and with the beginnings of a headache exacerbated by the hair dragging on your skull. 

The third time you abandon the bun. Twist the strands only far enough that they hold in something rounded and soft, accept the wisps of hair you can’t ever seem to catch and that tickle your face, and use the hairstick to pin the end of what once was a ponytail up.

You have no name, you have no ribbons, you have only a stolen fur coat and a single piece of white jade. Your bones ache like the waves forever rushing in your ears are dragging you under. And you want to give in to them. So you take paths half-remembered, rely on strangers, kind and unkind alike, to return once again to the eastern shores and, on the edge of one world, you turn your back on the other and sink into the rising sun.

★★★

So. I recently again came across a post pointing out LLH's significantly different styling in the special episode and this morning I realised that his hairstyle may well be a highly stylised version of what may have happened if the yin poison continued to ravage his body.

Apologies for the questionable phone screenshots, but I'm mostly interested in the hairstyle which is nice and visible here.

I used to have that length of hair and let me tell you any sort of complicated hairstyle was absolutely impossible after my shoulder injury and subsequent loss of muscle mass. So it's, to me, entirely plausible that this is a stylised or idealised (possibly because we see him through Fang Duobing’s eyes) version of what might happen if he lost the vision, motor skills and strength to put up his hair into a proper bun (especially without modern, elastic hair ties).

In the fic I wrote it as him only twisting the hair minimally and pinning it up like this on purpose, but I've also had this kind of look when a bun of mine came loose without me noticing (or caring). The wisps likely don't look half as intentional without the Fang Duobing filter and, looking at that hairstick in the first pic, it also looks like it was shoved in rather haphazardly.

In summary: this is Li Lianhua at his weakest (can't do his own hair anymore) and loneliest (doesn't have anybody else to do it for him) and his hairstyle reflects that.

[future-crab]

Given the shift from “all the good times, they give you cancer” to “all the good times gimme…” I’m surprised that I haven’t seen any interpretations of Party Poison as terminally ill.* I’m not saying I think this is what they’re going for with that lyric, but “character whose reckless bravery is secretly fueled by the knowledge that they’re dying” IS a well-worn character type, and as someone who loves nothing more than upbeat songs with angsty lyrics, the idea that the “gimme gimme” section represents Party Poison almost saying what’s weighing on their mind but then stopping themself is an interesting one.

*tbf i haven’t read either the comics or any danger days fanfic, it’s possible that this is either a popular hc or straight-up canon

[stickywhiteash]

Can of Worms || Kakashi x reader

Warnings: Terminal illness, Death, Angst Word Count: (1.3k)

Like sandpaper taken to a wooden block, you were worn down, reduced to sawdust. There was nothing that could be done to hold you together any longer. Wood glue could help, but it’ll only delay the inevitable.

In your home you sit in the dark, patiently waiting as the clock ticks by. Though exhausted, the rapid flow of thoughts prevented a peaceful sleep. It felt suffocating, threatening to drown you.

The front door opens followed by a hushed, “I’m home.” A dim light flickers on to reveal your still figure. After removing his shoes, he finds his way to the couch, sinking next to you. Kakashi’s arms wrap around you, pulling you into a tender hug.

“What’s the matter..?”

“We need to talk. It’s important.”

His chest tightens and he squeezes you more. Had he done something wrong or perhaps the opposite, a lack of action? Immediately he tries to think of things he missed. An anniversary, a chore forgotten, something anything.

He did notice that you were looking more and more ragged every week, every day. Could he have been the cause of it and hadn’t noticed?

It can’t be. Kakashi knows you. If something he did bothered you, you’d let him know immediately! Or at the very least, you’d stew in your annoyance for a few days then tell him. Most major arguments were discussed and settled in at the longest a week after the point has been brought up. Still, the possibility was there.

Noticing his heart rate spike and his breathing becoming more labored, you nuzzle into him and peck his cheek.

“Kakashi, would you love me if I was a worm?”

The dial-up noise rings through his skull. All of his thoughts come screeching to a halt.

“Ah—what?”

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Black bewildered eyes stare back into yours as he pulls away. "A worm?"

"Mhm."

Kakashi feigns being offended and states his next words matter-of-factly.

“I have loved you for 30 years now and will until the end of time. Whether you turn into a worm, a butterfly, or even a snake. I love you unconditionally. If we couldn’t find a way to transform you back.. Hmm.”

Kakashi crosses his arms and leans back, searching for an answer. His momentary silence worrying you. If you couldn't provide for him like a normal person, would he leave you? The next words that he speaks clears the anxiety fog.

“Well, I don’t know much about worm keeping, but it probably starts with a tank containing the proper dirt and nutrients for whatever species worm you turn into. I'd fill it with all of your favorite fruits so the dirt would taste like them when it decomposes. ”

A wry smile makes its way to your face, “Even if I could do nothing more for you? Even if I was useless?”

Cocking his head towards you he replies, “Naturally. That falls under unconditionally. It was never because of your talents or the things you have done for me that I fell for you. Your personality was what pulled me in. The way you interact with the world.. It’s you that I love. You can never be useless to me. Your existence is not valued by what you can contribute to me or the world, my love. Don't forget that. ”

The taste of iron on your tongue burns when you bite the inside of your cheek. Though you've asked him such a ridiculous question that could have been easily brushed off, this man decides to sing you praise and comfort. Lucky, blessed, to have him in your life.

Time is running out.

Taking in a sharp breath, you pressed on, “Would you let me die?”

“Never.”

“What if I asked you to?”

“I don’t think I can.”

Your voice cracks, “Could you love me enough to let me go?”

Kakashi sits up straight and takes your hand in his. Brows furrowing.

“. . . I’m sorry? What’s this about?”

“No, I’m sorry— That I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want you to worry and get in the way of your work.”

“Please. Explain.”

You do your best to not choke over your words. It was the moment of truth to come clean. They rush out like a river that had broken a dam.

“I- I’m sick and I’m not getting better. It’s never going to get better ‘Kashi,” you whisper, pressing the back of his hand to your wet cheek. “I don’t know how much time I have left. I also didn’t want you to leave once you found out.”

He searches for any hint of a lie, but there are none. It explained so much why you’ve been so lethargic and are less. Why especially in the past month you’ve been distant. You have been trying to figure out how to break the news to him.

His free hand balls into a tight fist and his eyes sstare down. You can tell by the way he’s hunched over a bit and turned to stone that a panic attack may be imminent. It was inevitable.

Of course this was how he would react to losing another loved one. Taken away too soon. At the very least, it wasn’t during battle, in the middle of war.

In a hushed tone, you attempt to grab his attention, “Hey, Kakashi. It’s okay. I’m still here. I’m still with you.” Both of your hands cover his and lay them in your lap. Gently you stroke their backs in circles with your thumbs. “Breathe, my dear.”

Minutes pass and you two sit, leaning against each other, in comfortable silence. Breathing patterns match after exchanging tears. Puffy eyes weighted with the burden of the unknown threaten to shut.

Hesitantly, you and Kakashi go to bed with heavy hearts. When sleep finally takes over, you’re trapped within his limbs, holding on to you for dear life. The scent of him fills your nose and you’re able to dream about him peacefully.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

A little over 2 years has passed. You were able to cling on to the thin thread of life for a good year or so, but the inevitable came and it came crashing down hard. All of your things still decorate the building. Some have moved different locations but not out of sight. A decent chunk of your collections and figurines now have a beautiful display case dab smack next to the entryway. Plushies that once only stayed in a hanger in the corner of the room or on the bed now scattered everywhere. The couch, some seats taken at the kitchen table, in the dog beds. Kakashi’s pack have been snuggling with them, none harmed on the little hair on their heads.

Grief has been hard on the man.

In the first month you’ve passed he’d taken on more duties to keep his mind off of you. When Kakashi isn’t working he’s off at the graveyard visiting Rin and Obito’s tombstones. To bring himself in front of yours would be too much to bear.

Next few months he cleans the home and constantly rearranges belongings. Only a few things stay exactly the way they were. He knows you’d hate it if he let himself rot with all the dust collecting on your belongings.

Eventually he’ll have to ‘move on.’ What a silly thing to say. Move on. As if the deaths of everyone he’s loved were an obstacle in his daily life. Leave them in the past.

Carry on. Now that sounds more suitable. Carry on their spirits in his heart until his own demise comes. Carry the memories long enough and eventually the weight of grief gets lighter. The beloved time spent together get brighter instead of being shrouded in shadows of regret. Regret not having enough time. Spending enough with you.

On your death anniversary he lays a picnic blanket down by your tombstone and brushes off any debris laying on the plaque. A full meal cooked for two.

“In a few years.. you’d probably have turned into a worm by now. Maybe even multiple. Funny how that works.”

“Today, I still love you. In a few years, even then. Even when you can’t talk back to me like we used to and even though you’re gone and passed on, I still love you. My love is unwavering and I miss you every day. I love you so much that I will continue living the best I can for you, my friends, everyone.”

“When I turn into a worm too, I hope to see you then.. and that you’d love me still”

[canttakelovedaway]

I'm interested in exploring the tragedy of Dulcinea dying and the effects on the houses.

[the-haunted-office]

It took a fair minute or two for Thursday to accept that there were infinite alternates of herself here in this same dimension with her, all walking an infinite amount of staircases going off in all sorts of wonky directions, all ascending as The Narrative had said.

It took a fair minute or two longer for her to accept that she was walking that same path along with them. Well, not the exact same path - she did have her own set of stairs, after all, leading up like an endless spire into the sky, which was a problem in and of itself, which she'll get to in a moment.

It took a fair minute or two even longer than that for her to accept that not only was she and all her alternates here to complete this business of ascending - whatever that was - but that they were all a part of this greater collective known as The Narrative.

(Cut here due to length!!)

The Narrative.

THE actual NARRATIVE.

The whole Narrative of... everything?

How could that be?

Her, Thursday, this simple, plain, ordinary office worker with literally nothing to her name but an employee number and maybe like, two or three pens... part of the whole, entire fabric of what creates and controls and moves the entirety of... everything?

How?

And what exactly does that mean?

Does that mean that she, somehow, has created... everything?

Or does that mean that The Narrative already existed and that it - They - created her in Their own image and... what? What's that mean?

It is not... that simple... Thursday...

Thursday pauses on the steps, for she had begun ascending again, simply for a lack of anything else to do but ascend, and think. "How do you mean? If you, The Narrative, created everything, and I'm a part of you..."

We are not... The Narrative... of everything... We are The Narrative... of you... There are many... Narratives... out there... within... the Greater... Narrative... To be... a part of... that Narrative... would be... tremendous... mind-boggling... Even We... cannot... comprehend...

"...You know, you're making me feel very small here, haha," Thursday laughs, a bit breathlessly with her wonder of it all. But truly, a part of her is relieved. She'd hate the idea of feeling like... she is a part of something so great, she can't even comprehend herself. Her head is already fucked up enough.

There is silence for a few moments. The stairs continue their ever-upward spiral, and Thursday continues her ever-upward march of them.

"Hey, are these stairs really endless? Like, how long do they go? How long does this whole, you know... ascending process take? And how will I know when I've reached the end?" she asks.

You are... already well... along your journey... Thursday... However the process... of ascension... takes time... and patience... and a lot... of reflection... You... and you alone... will know... when you are ready... I'm afraid...

Thursday sighs. "You really can't give me any hints or anything? Signs? Or like... a clue or puzzle to complete or anything? This is boring. It's not like I don't want to join you or anything. I really do! I promise. Not trying to trick you or anything."

We know... you do... but the process... is... the process... for... a reason... You... will know... when... you... are ready...

Thursday wishes she knew what The Narrative meant by all this. She'd feel a whole lot better knowing what she was looking for. It was part of why she never bought into the whole religion thing while she was alive. Faith. Faith was based on things she couldn't see, couldn't feel, couldn't prove with anything other than just... well, faith. The blind belief in something that couldn't be proven with facts. She had no proof of God. No feeling that he or she or whoever was ever there for her. Not even after her mother died. She'd tried. She'd really tried to pray. To go to church, even, at times, trying to reach someone, anyone. But there was nothing. No one. No answer. Just silence.

So she gave up seeking answers from that source. There was no source there, after all. To her, she may as well have been talking to a wall. A wall, at least, she could see and feel. And it at least provided some kind of protection against bullshit.

She does eventually find out, though, after many more hours of ascending this staircase, hours of thought, reminiscing about her life - she was actually thinking about her mother again, when it hit her, the pain, stabbing right through her with so much intensity she cried out and dropped to her hands and knees, right there on the staircase, tears instantly springing to her eyes, sobs wrenched from deep down in her lungs.

It hurt. It hurt so much, losing her mother. It was the most painful thing she'd ever experienced. She'd always heard that childbirth was the most painful thing a person could experience, but they were wrong. Physical pain wasn't the worst. It was always, always emotional pain. Mental pain. And the memory of the way she'd been sat down by her mother and step father, along with her brothers -

Stage IV. Spread to her lymph nodes, liver, spine in two places, incurable, six months-

-slamming into her like a tidal wave, followed by another-

-Charlie, I'm sorry I let you down so much, I always let you down/No, Mommy, you never let me down, you've never let me down-

-followed by another-

-didn't work, how could it have not worked? They said you had the best chance on this new medicine! They said it was a 100% match! I don't understand-

followed by another-

-No, I'm not leaving her, I want to stay with her-

On and on and on, like snapshots, wrenched from her mind and forced right there in front of her, as if she hadn't felt them enough throughout her life.

It's too much. It's too much. It's too much. Like drowning in fire. Like drowning in freezing water. She can't go on. She can't go on. She can't go on.

Rise... Thursday... Ascend...

"No... No... I-... I c-can't..." she croaks, curled up there on the stairs like a shivering, whimpering little shrimp.

Thursday... Rise... Ascend...

"Why... Wh-Why... Why are you... doing this?"

Thursday.............. Rise............. Ascend...........

"Nnnnnmmmmm....."

It takes an enormous amount of effort on her part, but she does, she does rise, and she does continue her ascent.

A few steps later, it happens again.

[remindingpersephone]

The Toll It Takes

Putting this under the cut, for those who would rather not read my rambling

I want to write, but I can’t hold onto the inspiration, or the drive.  I get an idea and it sounds good in theory, but I cannot hold onto it long enough to write it.  The discipline and energy to do the work, even though it’s a labor of love, is still labor. 

Writing has been getting harder and harder for me over the last 10 years or so.  It started as just jumping from story to story.  Then it became not writing for a few days or weeks.  Now it’s more like months and months without writing.

Obviously the upheaval in my life has an effect as well.  I cannot go through all of this – my mom’s need for constant care, the emotional impact of her medical condition and the demands on my time, the stress and anxiety that is a byproduct of all of it – and it not have a profound impact on my creative output.  Hell, it’s having a profound impact on damn near every aspect of my life.

Because this isn’t just my mom getting sick and dying.  This is my life being put on hold to care for her; to put her needs before mine.  And it’s not for just a few weeks or months like we thought at first.  She’s more than 7 months post diagnosis – when the doctor’s gave her less than 6 months to live.  This is a very good thing because it’s given all of us time to spend with her.  But if I am completely honest – and I can only be so here – I want this to be over.  Wanting that floods me with guilt because it’s not like this being “over” means she recovers and life will go back to the way it was.  This only ends with my mother’s death.  Please know that I am grateful that I had the time to care for her in a way that makes her comfortable; so that whatever time she has left she is not miserable, in a horrible place, surrounded by strangers.  I am blessed with support both financially and emotionally from the people in my life.  But there is no break.  I don’t get even one day off.  I haven’t had a day off from the physical and emotional burden of caring for my mother since her diagnosis.  So, I am making due with an hour here, an hour there, and I can only hope that is enough.  But I cannot pretend that this isn’t taking a toll. 

But life always takes a toll, doesn’t it?  Life is never all fun and sunshine and rainbows.  There are difficulties and tiny damages right alongside the parties and celebrations, no matter how successful and wonderful the stage of life.  I know there will come a day when she will be gone and I will have more time.  Will I utilize that time to do all the things I wish I could do right now?  Who knows?  I am a champion at wasting time on “research” or “preparation”.  I think there is a part of me that is mad at myself for not taking advantage of the time I had when I had it, before my mom needed so much more from me.  Is there a lesson to be learned here about not wasting time when we have it?  Probably.  But will I learn it?

I can only hope that once I have the thing I want now – time to myself – I won’t be overwhelmed by the grief and guilt of what it will cost to have it.

[shrikeseams]

friends, try not to die of cancer unless you are rich 'cause that shit's expensive.

[twisted-tales-told]

I think it’s actually starting to hit me that my moms health is going to get worse

Like this isn’t going to get better. I’m going to watch her be in pain until the day (hopefully many years from now) she dies because this is terminal. And it’s not normal and I’m going to lose her sooner than I should have to.

[galateaknife]

….just got news that a family member is going to seek medical assistance in dying. He’s barely forty. He has two children under ten.

He’s already lived several times longer than he was expected to when he received his diagnosis of Stage 4 pancreatic cancer.

He has tried every treatment route available, and some that were only available to him on a compassionate exception.

I know there is a lot going on in the world, but if anyone reading this is the praying type please spare a moment or light a candle for Connor, his wife Jen, and their two young sons.

NB: this is not the place for discussions of MAiD as a policy matter. This is a space for mourning.

[felinemotif]

yelling /

around this time last year i lost an uncle to terminal illness and now another relative is dying. in the middle of all of this my younger brother had a suicide scare. i honestly don't even know what to do or how to feel about any of this anymore. not numb, but it's just so much loss and fear and medical scares all at once. the timing would never be good but the fact that there's been no room to breathe or mourn or anything is weighing on me. i think i slept maybe five uninterrupted hours total this week and it's about to be friday. i was so fucking tired and stressed from everything today that when i went to vacuum i started to cry because i thought it was broke and i really can't afford a new vacuum but no, i just never even plugged it in. in no way am i trying to like. make my relatives health concerns abt me but also? watching your family slowly die to incurable disease is not easy. i am just. so fucking stressed.

[mythicalsanctuarysodor]

Happy late James day! Have a pic and a fic for my lateness-

(Warning! Under the cut is a fanfic that may contain topics sensitive to some readers, read tags for more info. Otherwise, you have been warned, read at your own choice.)

James smiled and waved as he saw Gordon, Duncan and Sir Bertrum board the train out to the mainland, Edward and Henry standing at his sides were doing the same as the old stallion and forest spirit wished them good luck. Once the train had left the other mythos were left with their own plans for the day, Edward was taking his wife into town so they could go furniture shopping for their new house, Henry was finally ready to go into the forest he once called his home, Thomas was going to do a bit of expansive exploring around the island, Percy was going to visit the Skarloey, and their jockeys were going to hang around the docks chatting with old friends.

James however had a train to catch as he was going to the mainland for a visit, when the others questioned him his answer was- “I always wanted to learn a little bit of alchemy, and now is the best time with all the classes popping up.” They bought it as it also was to explain why he would be gone for a few days. With suitcases in hand James’s own train to Manchester was coming in, the others wished him luck as the unicorn boarded the coach.

James made sure to get a coach that had compartments so he wouldn’t take up to much space, he had a long way from Sodor to Horwich after all. So he sat his luggage on the seat and laid down in the middle of the compartment. As the train carried on, after an hour someone knocked on the compartment door, James looked up from a book he was reading to see a human there, James was honestly expecting a mythic to join him before a human would.

“Hello, do you mind? Everyone else is full.” The man said. “Sure, though I apologise for the tight space.” James said as his body didn’t quite take up the whole small isle but there was enough space for two humans. The man smiled and sat down on the opposite seat to James’s luggage. James was about to go back to his book when the human decided to engage in small talk.

“So, where are you heading?” “I’m heading back home to Horwich, I’m hoping to still find some family there.” James said. “Ah,” the man smiled and nodded then got a notepad and pencil out and began writing down what James had told him. The crystal mythic found this strange and asked about it, “Do you record your conversations with people?” “Oh! Sorry, no-no I’m a mythology professor in Manchester, ever since the new law many of my colleagues have been jumping at the chance to talk to as many mythic as possible to record things while their still fresh.” “Ah! Well in that case I’m one to brag and boast, if you have questions I’d be happy to answer, professor…?” “McGlynn, Oswald McGlynn.” The man said extending his hand for a shake. “James, James Shire!” James smiled and gently shook his hand.

The first thing Oswald did was gasp when he got a good look as James’s hand and arm, as the unicorn was wearing a short sleeve dress shirt and vest today. “My goodness your arm, is this solid gemstone?” Oswald asked. “Yes it is, 100% ruby and my tail and frills are flecks of gold.” “Good gracious you’re a walking few million pounds! You must have done something extraordinary before boarding this train.” “Not really, I did mixed traffic work on a railway off of Barrow-in-Furness, granted I did pull the express there a few times but otherwise it was mainly goods work with some passenger trains mixed in.” “So you were an industry mythic?” “I guess I still am, because our owner offered us to still work there if we wanted, I said yes and he’s given me a few months to get my interests in order.”

This confused Oswald, he had gotten the impression that many industry mythic had been glad to leave their old jobs behind. “Why are you still working there? I’ve seen several reports of mythic loathing their old jobs they were forced into.” “My boss was actually rather fair compared to what I’ve heard about other railways, and he still is fair by giving us proper wages, heck, I did just say he’s giving me a few months to get my things together before going back to work.” “True, I guess there are a few good eggs out there. But moving on, since you’re an industry mythic, were you paired with a locomotive?” “I was, a Lancashire and Yorkshire class 28.” “So how did you get from that railway to the one you’re on now?” “That particular class of locomotive was riddled with problems, and mine was chosen to have some modifications done. They worked, but they didn’t have enough money to do it on the others. So I was eventually sold off to the railway I work on now when they needed a quick cash grab.” “Sounds like that was for the best in the end.” “Absolutely, my best years are with my current home.”

As Oswald scribbled down his notes he then moved onto a more personal topic. “If you don’t mind this next topic, I was wondering if you could tell me about you personally. Like… your middle name, last I knew working class mythic didn’t get family names and rarely got proper names at all.” “Ah! Well… I was wild caught truth be told, my herd had its own language and when my name was translated it meant supplanter, and the human name James means supplanter. As for my surname, I just needed something to write on my new birth certificate, so since Yorkshire and Lancashire both ended in ‘Shire’ I chose that. It also makes sense because I’m a horse.” James explained with a chuckle. “Alright, then what about your heritage? I’ve never seen a unicorn made out of minerals before, so are you from an area with caves?”

James seemed to pause at that question. Back when he first arrived at the NWR he got asked that frequently, eventually people just stopped asking but it was always still a mystery in the air of what James 100% was. “It’s… complicated. I’m sorry but this isn’t one I’d like to answer.” “No need to apologise, I understand that some things of the past should stay there. But if you can’t tell me that then I would like to ask how you maintain your body, do you need to eat rubies or gold? Or what is your diet in general? I couldn’t help but notice you also have wrather sharp teeth.” “Well to answer the whole thing about my food I’d have to say I’m an omnivore like you, I can eat my fruit and meats. Not rocks however, my body isn’t the you are what you eat factor.” “If you don’t mind me asking then, how do you bathe? Do you polish the rock or do you just run it under water?” “Run it all under water and then dry the gem part with a special towel.”

Oswald then got to the last few questions he had. “Okay, last few, and the most awkward of all. How do you court and mate?” “We’re still not barn animals so I wouldn’t say ‘mate’, but to answer that question my species specifically reproduces asexually, using a method akin to how most industry mythic were born except instead of using a female or female equivalent they put the beginning embryo into a large crystal, and it gestates from there. As for dating? My species are technically gender fluid or don’t identify with any gender so we don’t mind who we date as long as they’re the right person, but me personally I’m not looking for any love at the moment.” Oswald smiled as he put a firm dot at the end of his last note. “Thank you very, very much James, I’m hoping this will help my classes understand mythic better. Um, if I could interest you, would you like to come to the university I work at for a live demonstration? You’ll be paid and such.” Oswald handed James his card. “I’ll definitely consider it, it was fun getting to talk about myself for an hour or so.” James said as he checked his pocket watch. Oswald was surprised to, checking his own wrist watch. “Oh my the time flew by fast, my stop should be coming up soon.”

James did his best to stretch as his own stop would be coming soon as well. “Well if you get off before me I want you to take this.” James made a small square plate of ruby form in his hands that had some odd pictures but also some numbers on it. “This is so I can just teleport into your class room if you place it on the floor, it also has my crystal ball sigil and phone number on it, but I might not be me answering the phone, just ask for me if not.” Oswald was amazed! He just saw James do magic and he didn’t even think to ask about that! He took the ruby with glee and carefully wrapped it in cloth before packing it in his brief case. “Thank you very much James, and who knows, maybe now having a sigil will give me an excuse to use a crystal ball or magic mirror.” Oswald said as he got up and saw his stop approaching. “Well this is my stop, it was a pleasure talking with you James.” “Likewise! If only more humans were like you, we would be a lot further along than we are now.” Oswald chuckled as he smiled and left the coach, waving to James.

Once James was on his way again he began to dread reading the signs of the stations as they came up, but eventually he found the one he was looking for… Horwich. He began to collect his things and climbed out of the coach, to his surprise he saw a lot of mythic walking around on the platform, working as ticket sellers, maintenance, he even saw who looked like a tall faun hybrid as the station master. Regardless he trotted off and began to search around, he remembered some of the tracks but a lot of them had been paved over by roads, now the only ones really around were tramway tracks. But as he undoubtedly knew, all tracks lead to the place where engines run, so he followed them across roads and past other landmarks he used to know until he was standing in front of the brick building of Horwich works.

He trotted in to try and see if he knew anyone there, it was being cleared out as the working class mythic that would have previously lived there were moving out. And to his surprise he did see someone he recognised, a brother in steel as they were paired with the same engine type but weren’t biologically related. “12517?” James asked. The unicorn centaur turned around from the other mythos he was addressing and gasped when he saw James, “12520?! Holy cow! What?!” The centaur trotted up to James and pulled him into a tight hug. “Brother it has been decades! Where have you been? Is this a new gemstone? What’s with the solid red look? Why have you come back? Do you have a name now?” James laughed as he hugged back and even ruffled his brothers short hair. “Haha! It’s good to see you again to big brother! To answer your questions- A railway on an island from Borrow-in-Furness, yes it is new and the gem is ruby, I went for a solid red look since I asked for a new colour after I had a bad crash, I wanted to see my family in steel again, and yes! I was christened that nickname I insisted you all called me back in the day, my name is James!”

The class 28 unicorn chuckled and trotted around James in a playful manner. “Well James, it’s nice to finally say that’s your name, the old managers here will be furious! As for me, my name is Jacob! Just got it on paper a few days ago actually.” Jacob laughed. “Jacob? My name is a derive from that name, they both mean ‘supplanter’, did you struggle to come up with a name or something?” James asked actually feeling a little offended that his brother would just copy his name. “Actually… all of us choose a name beginning with ‘J’, it was so we could honour you. You were the most gutsy of us to insist you had a name and hardly responded to anything else.” Jacob winced as he remembered those punishments James would get if he didn’t listen to his industrial name.

James grimaced and squirmed under his clothes, remembering those days of his youth well. But he pushed it aside at the feeling of pride that his brothers and sisters would name themselves after a similar theme to his own name. But just then a shout came from an office door, “52530! Quit your gossiping and get back to work!” Jacob jumped as it seemed a manager was addressing him. “Yes sir! Right away sir!” Jacob was about to gallop off but James skipped in front of him and stopped him. “Woah, woah, woah! Hold your horse Jacob, what does he mean by work?” “I’ve been pulling wagons of living stuff for the other mythic that have been moving out, there’s a lot to get through, would you like to give me a hand?” Jacob asked. “Did you somehow manage to open a moving company in the span of a few days ago from getting your name on official paper?” “What? No.” “Then why are you moving other mythic’s crap and not just your own?” “Because I was told to?”

James facepalmed at his brother, the clink of ruby on ruby from his hand to his horn not being very subtle. “Jay… that kind of defeats the purpose of what this whole mythic rights thing has done for us, you don’t have to do anything that manager tells you to do! Did you ask the other mythic if they wanted help with moving out?” “No.” Jacob said. “Did they ask you and you agreed to help?” “No.” “Are you only doing it because that man told you to?” “Yes.” “Those mythic are grown adults they can sort their own moving situation out, now. Where is your crap? I’ll help you pack and we can get you started on getting out of here.”

Jacob looked to be thinking to himself as James could see the gears turning in his brothers head when they heard another shout from the manager. “52-!” “How about getting off your own fat ass and doing it yourself you lazy git! He doesn’t work for you anymore and his labour is not for free!” James shouted causing the whole works to go silent. The manager in question standing in the office door stood completely out and marched right up to James with a furious scowl. “Who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that centaur?” the man yelled. “I am this stallions brother in steel, that’s who the hell I know I am, and who do you think you are demanding things of him? He’s not your worker, his time is not a charity, if you want him to be a moving service you’d better start paying him.” “I’ve been his manager for the past five decades, so when I tell him to do something, he does it!” the man shouted. “In case your dead braincells in the back maybe didn’t hear, the only manager your of- is the bacteria in this tetanus hot spot! You have no power here! Come on Jay, show me your stuff and we can blow this joint.”

James grabbed Jacob’s arm and started walking further into the works for Jacob to show him where he was staying. “So, where’s your stuff?” James asked only to not hear a word from Jacob. When he looked back he saw his brother quietly crying to himself, tears dripping off his cheeks. James stopped and addressed his brother again, “Jay? Hey Jacob? Come on bro use your words.” To his surprise, Jacob shoved James away from him, huffing as his face became red from anger. “What good has words ever done? All the words I tried to say to you just always went right over your head! I was always getting in trouble for you James, and even after fifty years you still haven’t changed! I’m still going to be getting in trouble for you!” James looked hurt but also confused. “Jacob, you shouldn’t be getting in trouble because of me, not back then and sure as dam hell not now. If you think you have to cop that on the chin still your wrong, you can walk away no matter how much he yells at you because for once in your life he has no power over you. You just saw what I did, I don’t have to take anything from him, you’re in my shoes now, you don’t have to take it ether.”

Jacob still cried. “It’s not that easy James, fifty years doesn’t just disappear like that.” “I know! Thirteen sure as hell weren’t off my back the second I left here, and you coped a tongue lashing while I endured a literal lashing, I was broken and shattered so many times Jay, I was most of the time in too much pain to even move because they never allowed me a second to just let the part of me connected to the stone actually heal, you remember why I was so bad at magic back then? That was because the migraines made it physically impossible for me to even conjure the will with how many times they broke my horn. I was in a hell Jay… it took me more than thirty years, if I can get over it, I know you can to. Granted, it’s obviously not going to be the same journey as mine, far from it. Like you said, that’s fifty years that’s not going to go away overnight. But where do you think beginning to recover starts? You’ve already been given the push, you just need to take the first step.” James held onto his brothers shoulders as he spoke to Jacob, having the older stallions full attention.

Jacob looked to be in thought again and this time James covered his ears so no outside source could cut him from them. It took a minute or two but eventually Jacob whipped his tears, then guided James to the back of the works where his personal belongings were. They were in a large gym bag, packed and ready to go. “This all?” James asked. “Yeah… I didn’t bother much for personal possessions that I couldn’t carry on my person.” “Fair, you lived in a work shop after all.” James picked up Jacob’s luggage and they began to trot out. “Are any of our other siblings here?” James asked. “No, I was the only one who stayed here, everyone else were in sheds.” “You have a new living arrangement sorted out yet?” “There’s a local mythic shelter, I was going to crash there while I get my bank details in place for the money.” James gasped and instantly shook his head. “Oh hell no, no brother of mine is staying in a shelter until he gets his life together. You can crash at my place, I kind of went over board when making it and now it’s just that bit too big.” Jacob was surprised. “James seriously, you don’t have to take me in.” “Bull shit, I have an obligation out of love to. Plus, if your still looking for hauling work, the place I’m at is still looking for hires, we’re wrather short on unicorns.”

Jacob thought about is for a second before smiling and nodding. “Alright it couldn’t hurt to live with family. So, where is your new place?” “It’s on an island past Barrow-in-Furness, the island of Sodor.” “I’ve heard of Sodor, its alongside the isle of man isn’t it?” “It is!” “Huh… well it’s a little far but if your happy with it than it must be worth it.” “Great! I can teleport us there now.”

James erupted a 10ft stalagmite of ruby from the ground, it’s red glow being a sign of imbued magic. “Holy cow! You figured out how to teleport?” Jacob asked. “My own way of teleporting, yes. I still can’t do it the way you lot can though.” James said as he began to walk through the ruby with Jacob following him. When they got to the other side, they were in James’s front yard on a large property of land with farm land and horse paddocks in the surrounding area.

“Woah… I see what you mean when you say you’ve made it to big.” Jacob commented. “This isn’t what I meant. I knew I wanted a large bit of land because, well come on, we’re half horses. What I meant when I said I made it to big was my house.” James said as he began walking up the hill and gesturing for Jacob to follow. The unicorn stallion did and when he was over the hill he could now 100% see what James had meant, on the top of the property after a small hill was a giant mansion made with all variants of gemstone and other such materials, plants climbed up the walls and made archways, some bricks sporadically had a shine to them, the windows were all stained glass around the rims with wooden windows having carved details, there were towers around the roof reminiscent of old castles with many balconies, and the pathway lights were designed to ether be glowing plants or gems that would light up at night. Jacob was amazed at how much effort looked to have gone into this, like it was ripped right out of an old times fantasy novel that a matriarch would live in.

“Sweet Jesus fucking Christ…” Jacob whispered out loud. “Regret choosing to come with me yet?” James asked cockily as he began to walk up to the front door. “I’m beginning to trust your judgment more and more despite knowing I shouldn’t.” Jacob said quickly trotting to catch up with James. “Trust me dear brother when it comes to architecture, I am a king at it.” James said as he opened the door and let themselves in.

To Jacob the inside was no better than the outside, archways that connected the rooms were heavily detailed in different themes of pictures, large centaur sized leather sofas lined the living room walls with a giant magic mirror mounted on the wall, the stairs were all with decorated railing, marble floors with some carpets and rugs in the appropriate rooms, and again, everything looked like a palace!

“Upstairs are the bedrooms, study, library, studio, theatre, and entrance to the veranda out back, though there’s an entrance on this level to. Bathroom on this level is over on that side, and there are bathrooms with all the guest rooms. Master bedroom is on the third floor, if you need me during the night that’s where I’ll be. Kitchen and living room are to the right as you can see, I don’t have much food kept yet but there are a few quaint café’s down the road if you get hungry at the moment. Theres a pool and fountain at the back along with a garden, there’s also a river and pond, I don’t recommend swimming in there because there are a few fish. The only rules I have off the bat are don’t go down stairs, there’s a magic stone there that leads to my personal forge, and my bedroom is off limits unless you get my say so. Otherwise, that’s the whole place. If you want to explore the bedrooms and pick one go right ahead.” James said as he whipped his hooves on the carpet and left his luggage at the front door.

Jacob almost dropped his bag in surprise at how massive the place was, he swore he was walking through a modern palace with how everything looked. “Do you have anyone else living here?” Jacob asked. “No not yet, I haven’t shown any of my friends this place yet but I want to offer them it while their own homes are being built. The majority of them have been getting personal stuff out the way first like healthcare and marriages.” “Understandable. So, what do you want to do first?” Jacob asked. “I actually wanted to immediately head back out, back to Horwich.” “Why? We just came from there.” “I know. I wanted to visit the works first to see if any of you were there and needed help, but I wasn’t just there for the works.” “Really? What else then?”

James gave Jacob a saddened expression. “You remember I’m wild caught right?” “Yes, but what-” Jacob then had an idea of what James was getting at. “Oh! Are you going to try and find your birth family?” Jacob asked. “I know where they are, it’s just a journey I have to take alone. There are some sides of my past that I don’t want you or quite frankly anyone else seeing, and I especially want to have some time with my mother.” Jacob was surprised; even when they were kids James hardly ever talked about his life before he was captured and ran through the trade. Back then James wasn’t even any kind of gemstone, he was just ore rock with a few things from metal to precious stones sticking out of him and he didn’t speak English.

“Okay… I can hang around here for a bit while you’re out. How long do you think you might be gone?” Jacob asked. “I might be gone for a few days if I’m being completely fair… I’m hoping to broaden my knowledge on my unique magic and also catch up with many people.” James admitted. “Where will you be going?” Jacob asked causing James to slope his shoulders and look rather pensive. “Do you remember Aspull pumping pit?” James asked. Jacob gasped, “The pumping pit? What on earth could you want with down there?” “That’s where I was found and roped. And it’s not the pit itself I’m there for, it’s the local mines in the area that the pit drained. Down those mines are where my craft of magic comes from.” Jacob looked very concerned. “Just… please little brother, come back home, preferably in one solid piece.” James hugged Jacob before handing him a cut of the house keys. “I’ve got a wave point set in the back yard, I’ll come back through there when I arrive home, you’ll know it when you hear it. In the studio I’ve got multiple clothes I’ve made that you can try on and have, the completed ones are in a walk in closet, try those on. But I recommend having a shower first. Here’s 500, feel free to use that at the café’s I mentioned. If it’s an emergency here's my personal sigil, you have plenty crystal balls around here to use. And feel free to study up on some magic if you like.” James said handing over a paper and some bills. Jacob smiled and hugged James again before watching him leave back through the ruby he made, once he was gone, Jacob got to searching for a bedroom to pick.

With James he had teleported back to Horwich works, and when he came back through the crystal he immediately shattered it into a red sand that blew away in the wind. Now it was just the long walk to the old pumping pit.

This proved to take under an hour though, much to James’s surprise as he remembered it being a lot longer. Once he was out of Horwich and had run across the train tracks he was into more open farm land as he came closer to Aspull, he followed the farmlands boarders until he came across the forest where the pump now resided in the middle of. He was aware of it’s closing in the 30’s and it now being abandoned, that made it all the more easier to James though.

When he finally found the pit, he was surprised to see how different it looked. The quiet forest a complete contrast to the horrid loud growling the pumps had made back in the day. The tubes gone, and the boilers gone to that operated the pistons. James walked over to the maintenance cover that sat in the ground almost sacrilegiously with how the old moss covered stones looked, he removed it and couldn’t help but shiver as he thought over how he was really doing this, no turning back now.

James gently poked one of the stone pillars, what grew from the spot was a flat plate of ruby. James lifted his luggage up to the mounted ruby and when the gem lit up James’s belongings were teleported through it, acting like a storage pocket dimension. With James unburdened of his packaging his clothing was next, he stripped of all the cloth on his body, leaving his skin and stone left. What was next was something not even his siblings in steel have seen, not even anyone from Sodor. James’s lower body of crystal that resembled a horses began to change and shift, the breaking and grinding of stone took over the silent forest as James began to morph.

Gone became of James’s horn and hooves, his legs becoming two and turning much more human minus the feet. He began to hover off of the ground as the rest of him changed, the gold glitter flow of his tail and frills disappearing and being relocated to his hair, a long whisp of a golden trail started falling from his scalp and trailed far behind him to drag close to the ground. The crystal that attached to his skin began to grow and cover his body more, growing down from his ears to his neck and connecting at his shoulders to his spine then at his new legs. Spikes of ruby grew from James’s more exposed sides of his shoulders and top of his arms, across his hips and even around where his ankles would be. Eventually the only skin that was left was James’s face, front neck, and front chest and ribs. But that wasn’t to say his organic parts didn’t change ether, James’s usually sharp teeth were sharper, turning from canines to outright fangs, his red eyes turning a more fire orange with white pupils and black sclera.

James looked at his hands once he was done, his nails now claws and the world looked so much more different to him now. He was annoyed by the daylight and the lack of any immediate magic around him besides his own made him practically blind on the surface, but underground was a very different story.

He gently lowered down the maintenance hole, and then closed it up once he was under the earth. Instantly his vision was much better, his eyes allowing his sight back once he was in a complete abyss. He lowered down to the bottom of the pit and searched his memory for the old tell-tale signs of caves, once he found where an old pipe used to be James’s old childhood memories came back to him, the routes and the curiosity he used to be so naïve with.

James followed the old holes where the pipes used to be, and eventually he found the water source they used to drain so long ago. James didn’t have any issues about breathing, so he dived into the water and swam through the underground rivers to where they lead. It took a long time, swerving the tight corners and sometimes resurfacing and travelling down the old abandoned mines before needing to dive back into the water again. But eventually, he found what he was looking for.

After another dive into water from a mine, this time the water sucked downward like the plug from a bathtub. James was taken down with it before he was spat out on the other side down a waterfall into a more open natural cave. He fell onto the stone with a thud and clink with a few shards of ruby breaking off, James groaned and just decided to lay there for a second while the pain subsided. That was until he saw something familiar.

Lining the wall above him, was a vain of sapphire. And it wasn’t a normal natural ore, it was like when he made his rubies appear, they had a magic aura to them that James saw as glowing. He instantly shot up from the floor and began to follow the sapphire down the cave, the more he followed the vain the more carved out the cave got, like it was shaping out to be a walk way or tunnel. It ended up being a muralled tunnel as different gemstones suddenly started showing up and forming a picture the further in James followed them.

Eventually he came to the mouth of the tunnel and when he was out the other end what greeted him was a massive miles upon miles long underground ravine with raging waterfalls and a river flowing at the bottom. But what was most surprising was that this ravine was inhabited, along the faces of cliffs and inside some more open spaces of cave were carved out houses into the rock faces. A massive architect of a bridge stretched across the two sides and more bridges roped across on some lower levels, and even from here James could see some species of mythic milling about and going about their days, it was a whole city and society, and it was his old home.

James felt like he wanted to scream with joy as he almost instantly recognised the layout, he was about two-fifths into the ravine and currently in the more middle class suburban area than the city. James knew he needed into the actual city itself and the closer to the capital he got the closer to his old house he’d get, so without any more time wasted, James bolted off down the path he was on to get to the bridges and cross them.

James’s speed made him seem like a sparkler as he ran down paths and roads, he spooked many of the mythic but didn’t stick around long enough to hear them out, quickly crossing town after town before he was rapidly approaching the capital. Once James got close enough to it’s boarders he slowed down considerably to take it all in, these were his city streets, this was his true home he remembered from fifty plus years ago.

As he rounded a corner he finally saw the ravines crown jewel, at the very end on a straight rock face, was a castle mounted on the stone. It had multiple spires and towers, thousands of windows, millions upon millions of fancy decorations, and it was all for one thing. A vampire clan.

Back in the late 18th century a vampire family business discovered a source of gold and coal at the top, and throughout all the mining down, they eventually came across this society of cave golems and other various types of underground mythic. Once they did they began asserting themselves as the ravines monarchy, eventually it didn’t become too uncommon to see bats down here and vampires joining into this society.

James remembered staring at that palace long ago when he was much, much younger. Someday hoping that his father would magically decide one day to come see him from that castle, so he could know who his other half was. James didn’t realise how intensely staring at it he was until someone broke his focus. “Quite the detailed place isn’t it?” A voice next to James said speaking in the local tongue. James quickly had to recollect his old language to answer them. “I-I’ve seen bigger.” James stuttered out hoping he wasn’t forgetting anything. “Are you okay? That came out rather odd.” A cave golem looking similar to James said but without the human flesh part. “Sorry, I haven’t spoken this language in a very long time. I went to the top for a while you see,” James explained to the crystal golem.

“You’ve seen up top-?” the golem seemed to stop himself in his tracks once he got a better look at James, noticing that he wasn’t 100% crystal. And to James’s surprise, he said his old name. “Zirconiame?” “Um, yes actually. Sorry though, have we meet?” “Zircon! Oh my boy it has been a very long time indeed! Yes we have meet, I was the sorcerer that tutored you, don’t you remember that?” James gasped when he did recognise the golem in front of him. “Mr Ospal! Yes I do remember! Sorry for not recognising you sooner, you’ve changed a bit since the last time I saw you.” James gave his old teacher a hug as he was happy to finally see a familiar face. Mr Ospal laughed while gently petting James’s back and setting him down, “I could say the same myself dear boy, your adorning ruby now? And your locks, weren’t they admitting coal dust before? And my you look much older, a lot like those vampires. It seems your mother was right when she said your vampire heritage would show up the more you got older, there’s no mistaking those fangs.”

James almost instinctively hushed his old teacher and began to guide him away from the public spot they were in. “Maybe still keep that vampire knowledge on the low, I don’t know how much has changed but I don’t want to take any chances.” “As your mother always said little Zircon- in little ways where everything stays, I agree keeping your heritage hush might be a good idea for a little while longer. But enough about that, where have you been? You disappeared one day and never came back. You said you came to the top?” Mr Ospal asked.

“The surface, yes. I didn’t listen to my mother’s words and went exploring up the waterfalls, I travelled up and up for hours before I finally found the surface. I was amazed by what I saw, these creatures were of warmer flesh than vampires and only had flat stones for moving on, they motioned with four legs on a long body and a large sharp rock stuck out from their heads and that’s how they casted magic! I ever so wanted to do what they did, pulling items with no magic at all, a whole new language, a whole new set of rules, it was all so exciting that I did everything I could to try and act like them. It worked, but not in the way I thought it would…” James grew sad at the old memories.

“I was wrapped up to tight in thick fabric chains, I was hurting before I knew it and wanted them to stop but they didn’t. I eventually just started crying and pleading with them to let me go but they understood none of my words as I was taken away into an order that didn’t allow me to come back home. Compared to them, they made the vampires appear as the water harmonies. It wasn’t until a few cycles ago did I finally have my freedom back and decided to come see down here again.”

Mr Ospel was horrified by James’s words, they had been told by vampires that creatures up top were much more horrid than they, and judging from James’s experience he was inclined to believe it. But regardless, at least he was home now, that was the good thing. “Well Zircon, I imagen your mother would like to hear it. She had never been the same since you had gone.” James became worried when he heard that, he could imagen his mother not taking it well. “Is she still where her old home was? I was on my way to her when I caught sight of the palace.” “No, she moved after a few years of your disappearance. She now lives down the deep halls of the palace.” James knew what the actual deep halls were, to the cave golem they were less personalised homes, but James knew better when he heard their descriptions, they were cells. His creator being in the palace cells made his heart pound he could feel his teeth begin to poke him gums. The anger in his body must have reflected strongly to his old teacher as Mr Ospel grew concerned.

“Zircon? What is the matter?” “Those deep halls are not something to be called homes, the vampires view them at an entirely different view. Do they except visitors to the deep halls?” “Yes they do, I visit her often. I was actually just on my way.” “May I accompany you?” “I was hoping you would.” Mr Ospel smiled as he began to lead the way to the palace entrance. They travelled over a few bricked roads before coming up to the bridges that entered the castle, James was nervous as he had seen what vampires were capable of up top and didn’t want to be involved in a fight with one despite him being half vampire. James covered the rest of his body in ruby so they wouldn’t become suspicious, but he was still on guard as he saw the entrance guards.

Mr Ospel spoke to them mainly and they let them in without issue, but soon a lone guard escorted them to the dungeons. When they were finally down to the cells, to James’s great shock his mother had a rather swanky prison, it had some flower plants around the room with glowing sunstones above them, a king sized bed in the middle with canopy, and despite the bars being open she could lower a privacy curtain if she wanted. James smiled when he saw her sitting on the bed, but saw that someone was in there with her sitting on the bed, it appeared to be a male vampire.

“Gemini, please… won’t you have something today?” The male vampire said in a tinge of a Scottish accent, causing James to grow concerned. Gemini wasn’t his mother’s name, and what was this about having something today? But Mr Ospel spoke up when he saw the two together however. “Sir Nightingale, how is she today?” Mr Ospel asked as they were let into the cell. “Ah! Mr Ospel, please I am hoping you can convince her to consume today.” It was obvious to James that this Sir Nightingale wasn’t all that fluent in gem-glyph, making him think this man was a doctor. “I actually have hope that this young man may be able to do that better than I.” Mr Ospel said gesturing to James.

James was surprised, but was quickly on it when he realised that his mother hadn’t been eating with what they were implying. James dropped the ruby coving his remaining skin and floated up to his mother’s side, the vampire gasped but quickly floated out of the way. James got under his mother’s face to meet her gaze, she looked at him and instantly perked up with interest at the sight of him. “Mother? What is going on here? Are you alright?” Were the first words out of James’s mouth before he was tackle hugged tightly by his mother. “Zirconiame!” She shrieked as she pulled James into the air with a spin. “Mother! Mother! To tight! My neck!” James cried as his mother’s strong arms crushed his neck. “Ah! Oh my child, I’m so sorry, you are not to hurt are you?” “No, no, no! I am okay, just a little crushed. But mother, what on graces happened to you? Why are you in the palace? Why are you not eating? Who is this man and why do they call you Gemini?” James asked having many questions. “You ask me questions?! Zirconiame! Where have you been? Why have you been gone so long? What happened to you? Why are you in different minerals? What of your tone? You speak as if you have trouble with your voice.”

James gently sat his mother back down on the bed and had a proposal. “Okay, okay! How of this? I answer one question of yours, you answer one question of mine, deal?” “Yes, now- where have you been?” “Ah, that has to also answer my tone. I found my way up to the top.” Both his mother and the vampire next to James gasped. “You have been to the surface young man?!” The vampire shouted with his eyes glowing red. “Yes I did, and please do not authorities me sir, I do not know you. I would also not call being over fifty young.” “It is to over two-hundred.” The vampire said snootily. “Zirconiame, this is your other half, father.”

James’s jaw hit the floor when he heard his mother’s words… this vampire was his father? James looked to the man and could now see the resemblance between him and his more human appearance, but still… last he checked his father was a no show with nothing to do with him or his mother, why was he here now? James switched to English for this as he didn’t want Mr Ospel or his mother knowing what he was really saying. “You are my dad?” Sir Nightingale seemed surprised that James knew fluent English, but rolled with it anyway also in English. “Yes, I am. I can gather that you are upset with me Zirconiame.” “Call me James, it was a new name I insisted on when I was up top.” “Alright then. So, James, you are unhappy with me?”

James sighed. “I confess my anger is more of confusion. Why is my mother in a cell? Why are you suddenly here? Where were you when I was growing up?” “Well, to answer where I was when you were growing up, I was here, in the castle. …Have you been educated on the roles of a vampire clan?” “A vampire hierarchy, yes.” James nodded.

Sir Nightingale went on to explain, switching back to gem-glyph for the golems in the room. “Well, at the time my parents had just pasted, so I fled here to hide from the hunters that killed them, taking on the new title of king and ruling this ravine as its matriarch. While I was still coping from the loss of my parents and suddenly needing to take over a kingdom, I met your mother.” The king paused with a chuckle.

“It in all honestly played out like a romance novel. At the time I thought that we could have you, I thought everyone was moved on with the times and that I was allowed to officially marry your mother and have her be queen beside me with you as the prince, but apparently my vampire subjects still didn’t see it fit. So I was forced to marry a vampire and live my life as such of a typical king and queen, with the relationship I had with your mother and you a secret. But things came to a nasty end when your half-brother was born.”

“-He was born, found out he wasn’t an heir, vamp wifey put logic in her head and discovered about me.” James interrupted having actually heard this story from Harper. The king was surprised and shocked causing James to elaborate, “It’s not the first time I’ve heard that story, heck, I actually have a co-worker who is a hybrid and a vampire heir from America. Now he works on the same railway as me.” “R-Really?” James’s father asked shocked that he wasn’t the only one.

“Yeah, so what happened next? My co-worker said that his step-mum wanted him gone so that her child could be the true heir, did that happen with yours?” James asked. “Yes actually, once my wife found out she set up a warrant on your head. I came to warn your mother and you but when I saw her again she looked in a similar state to now, not eating and just had no life left in her. You were also nowhere to be found.” Nightingale said. “By then you had been missing for a year, I had searched the whole ravine for you and found no trace.” James’s mother said. “So we concluded that if you weren’t here, you had to be up there. I got to searching on the surface for you while also dealing with the many other things that happened, your mother I moved in here so she could be under constant surveillance and so that the other vampires wouldn’t grow iffy, I divorced my wife, I actually got custody of my son, and I still had all the mining business to deal with.” “While searching probably the whole country for me…” James hushed out and slumped down onto the mattress.

“Yes… but, please James, what happened to you?” “James?” the ruby mythic’s mother asked her love. “Ah, that was my new name I choose once I was on the surface. I told Mr Ospel this story already but I’ll give you the abridged version. I followed the waterfalls up from where they came and eventually found the surface, I saw unicorn centaurs working and wanted to be like them, so I shape shifted into looking like them and when I went out in the open I was captured and ran through the trade-” “WHAT?!” The king roared when he heard that, the whole stone around them shaking.

“You were ran through the mythos trade?! That’s why I couldn’t find you, I was looking for you assuming you were ether still looking like a golem or using your vampire side to live amongst them, I had no clue you were in the working class. Where did you end up? What did you do?” James’s father asked sounding really concerned. “What is this trade? Why does it worry you my love?” James’s mother asked sounding concerned as well. “I believe the rest of our sons story will reveal more my Gemini, lets listen.” With that James continued.

“Yes, like I was saying, I was ran through the mythos trade and ended up being put to work as a railway colt. I didn’t know how to speak English at the time, or cast the normal spells that the unicorns did, so it was a few months of trial and error before I got everything right. Afterwards I started to rebel a lot more, I insisted on them naming me instead of just calling me a set of numbers, that got me in a lot of trouble and caused a lot of pain. But at some point the locomotive I was paired with got an overhaul to fix its problems, it worked but they couldn’t do this to all the others and eventually I was sold to another railway where I still work today. I have a new home, I’ve got a big set of land with a nice house I made myself, I have a brother in steel with me at the moment and I have an amazing group of friends, all in all I guess I got what I wanted when I travelled up those waterfalls and saw those unicorns.” James chuckled.

“Where do you live now James?” His father asked. “On an island off of Barrow-in-Furness and in between the isle of man, the island of Sodor.” “Sodor? I’ve heard of that place, my distant cousins visit there for vacations every so often with the Hatt family there.” The king mentioned. “The Hatt’s are my bosses actually, and I think you’re referring to the Duke and Dutchess of Boxford aren’t you?” James asked. “Yes I am! Ohh… you were so close yet so far, I’m disappointed in myself for missing you.” “Well, to be fair, it wasn’t like I wanted to be found out by anybody up there. None of my steel siblings or close friends even know my true origins, the closest they know of it is that I was wild caught and spoke another language while being half made of stone.” James admitted. “Then what did you tell them when you went to come down here?” James’s father asked. “I said I was coming to Horwich to expand my magic knowledge, which wasn’t entirely wrong, I was kind of hoping mother would catch me up to speed.” James’s mother chuckled and slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry to say Zircon that I don’t have much magic left, I would not be able to teach you properly with how little I have.” “I’m in my older years as well Zircon, I would not be able to mentor you ether.” Mr Ospel said.

James thought for a bit before asking, “Do you still have those books on them?” “Yes I do, here, this is them.” James’s mother handed him a flat rock of lapis, it was another magic rock like what James used to teleport his belongings into a pocket dimension. “This is great! Is it all of them?” James asked. “Yes, down to the final addition and master class.” “I can imagen those would be really useful for the times up top.” James’s father commented when his love mentioned master class. “Really, really useful! These could actually help a friend of mine if I predict the craftsmanship of some prosthetics he’s going to get.” James said as he looked eager to bite into the knowledge of the rock. “I agree, if that’s the best those professional alchemists can do then their a flop just waiting to be found out.” James nodded with his father.

“Well then Zircon? What will you be doing going forward?” Mr Ospel asked. “I kind of want to stick around for a bit while I study these, catch up a little and get reacquainted.” James said. “If your looking for more magic knowledge on your plate I can show you these old vampire mage spell books, my other son didn’t take much of an interest in them but you seem to be quite the academic.” James’s mother and Mr Ospel chuckled a little at that since James wasn’t much for school in the past. “I didn’t know vampires had their own magic.” James commented but never the less intrigued. “We do, but its considered old magic, so nobody really bothers with it anymore. It’s on the lines of necromancy if that’s something you’d want to look into.” James nodded his head enthusiastically with a big smile on his face.

The king chuckled, and got up to show him where the books were, switching back to English. “There in the library, there’s also a study that you can use, but I’d recommend practicing your alchemy magic outside.” “I can work with that,” James smiled before giving his mother a hug and kiss on the cheek, “I’ll come and visit you every day, I love you so much mother.” James’s mum kissed his forehead before letting him go, watching as his father guided him out the cell and back up the stairs. She then proceeded to have a coughing fit, hacking up clouds of dust and gravel and grinded lapis. Mr Ospel caught her before she fell back on the bed and sat her up right so she wouldn’t choke. “Lazillie, do you really think you can afford to spend any more time spent lost with him? You don’t have much time, you should follow them up to the study.” Mr Ospel pleaded. “No…” Lazillie croaked out. “I’ve had my best memories with my child… Harlow deserves his best moments with his son just as much as I had. My boys deserve some time together.” Mr Ospel was very concerned and hoped she knew what she was doing, because he didn’t have the heart to tell her son that his mother that he just saw again after fifty years was dying.

For the rest of the month James had gotten into a new routine, he would see his mother at every mealtime and eat with her, while the other time was spent with his father in the study hall. Apparently his majesty had wanted to take up alchemy for the longest time but the methods that the golems used wasn’t translatable very well to written form, so James did his best in coaching him through the beginners steps. During this time James also took up a new form while in the castle of a far more human body, even wearing pants and shoes for the first time in his life, the ruby of his body pushed so far up his limbs that it looked like his nails were painted and he had red earrings in.

He also had the pleasure of meeting his half-brother Damon who was a pure blooded vampire prince, but since James was the heir that made this vampire a duke. Needless to say they didn’t get along all to swimmingly, Damon was three years younger than James but sometimes he made it sound like they were thirty years apart, he complained like a man child all the time and argued with James about every conversation even if James was in the right. It especially ticked James off when he insisted he was right about alchemy even if the guy had never bothered to read a word of gem-glyph in his life, so James often took a page out of Toby’s book and let the man child make a fool of himself to prove a point. It didn’t make their father any to pleased but it was plenty satisfying.

In the end James got a lot more skills than he initially thought he’d come back with, he graduated up to archivist in his alchemy studies that was essentially a master’s degree, he got to the level of bachelor in his vampire sorcery, he also walked away with a diploma in fashion as a tailor had offered to teach him in the middle of his other studies. All in all, James was pretty darn proud of himself for doing all that in the span of a month.

At the end he wished his family well and gave them his address so they could visit him, but under the guise of being old friends. So it was surprise that not even a week after James had come back home, Sir Bertrum announced that the vampire king of Aspull was coming to Sodor for a vacation along with the Duke and Dutchess of Boxford.

But that is a story for another day…

[bookwormonastring]

I don’t tend to post about this, because it’s not the kind of thing that just casually comes up in conversation, and it’s a bit of a depressing topic, but I can’t say nothing today. if you don’t want to read it all that’s okay, but please read the last paragraph.

today would have been the 21st birthday of one of my primary school friends. unfortunately, that friend only made it a few months past 17, when the mitochondrial disease she’d been diagnosed with when we were in year 5 finally won, so instead we’re celebrating her memory today.

I think about her a lot. every time I go on a walk and save a worm from being squished by picking it up and moving it from the middle of the pavement (she made me brave enough to do that for the first time when we were 6 or 7, when it had grossed me out too much before) and every time I come out of my Catalan class (the building is directly opposite the hospital she was in when she passed) and every time I notice my hair looking particularly red (I remember her saying we looked like sisters because of it when we were walking to school together one time, even though hers generally looked much redder than mine) and plenty of times in between. and if I’m being honest I’ve never quite got over the guilt stage of grieving her, but there is at least one way I can still feel like I’m making it up to her.

the lily foundation is a wonderful charity that did so much for my friend while she was still with us, and their research is so important to make other children’s and young adults’ lives better while they’re living with this disease - and perhaps even find a cure for it someday. I don’t think I would even know about mitochondrial disease if my friend hadn’t been diagnosed with it, so if you also don’t, please read the information about it (or, rather, them) on the lily foundation’s website. if you can donate, that’s fantastic and I would urge you to, but even raising awareness is good.

[agrumina]

[This is set before Admiring Actor became a spirit.

…I imagine they’re lacking of a face is really just a glitch and in-universe they’re alright, but I wanted to explore the concept “What if something really happened to their face and that’s how they died”.

It’s already in the tags but: warning for implied body horror and plant gore]

Where are they?

All they hear are moans of pain from others, probably reduced like them.

All they know is that they’re lying down somewhere. Wherever they are, it feels unfamiliar.

“They’ll they care of you here.”

They feel weak. Even standing up is hard.

Everything is dark. Where are their eyes?

It’s hard to breathe.

The smell of rot and blood and the dark plants overwhelms them.

Everytime they try to speak it feels like thorns are stuck in their throat.

They wish they could reach their face with their hands, but they can’t feel them anymore. Are their hands still there?

“You shouldn’t have touched the plants so much.”

“Did they really try to tear-?!”

Where are the others? Did they leave them behind?

“This is one of the worst cases I’ve ever seen.”

“How did they get in this state?”

Some say they can’t see their face anymore, the illness covering it completely.

They find it funny, in a twisted way. Once they cared about their appearance, some made fun of them for “caring too much”.

Once, they had many admirers. Many said they were the most beautiful person they had ever seen.

But now they don’t care as much of how they look like. Their thoughts are mostly of how they wish that, whatever is tearing their skin apart, could just disappear and let them breathe and see again. No matter what will happen to their body afterwards.

“I’m afraid it’s already too late for them.”

They just want to go back to the others. 

They want to travel again, to cheer others with spectacles, to dance, to give air kisses to the audience and chuckle when they see how some of them swoon as if a prince noticed them. 

They want to give those kisses to the other members of the troupe and see how some react with giggles and others roll their eyes and tried to stifle a laugh.

They want to touch someone again and without fear; to feel Rhythm’s hand on one of their shoulders and the arms of the others around their body.

Where are the others? They can hear others, but they’re not the ones of the people the Actor almost considered a family.

Despite being surrounded by voices, they feel as if they were a creature left behind to fend for themselves.

“Wait. I think they’re trying to say something."