#everything is really aggressive and people in gold expect to have healing dumped on them from the skies when they overextend

[gazpacho-deluxe]

i love playing zen sm. like i literally can just orchestrate 1v1s to win fights by orbing whoever’s doing shit and discording their opponent and it’s sick and awesome it feels so fun to play

[raevenlywrites]

The Ties That Bind 7 of ???

Two chapters? TWO CHAPTERS??? *nods* Two chapters

Kneeling before Zane and promising to find a way was one thing. Getting back up off the floor and actually doing it was quite another.

So we compromised, staying on the floor but moving the lean up against the bed. It was surprisingly easier to talk to him this way; yes, we were touching, a bit of leg here, shoulder there, but I didn’t have to look at him, and that made all the difference. I suddenly realized that part of what made talking to Andreios in those late nights was that I put my back to him. Leaning into the solid warmth of his chest and talking into the dark made confessing my heart so much easier.

I don’t think it was my heart I was confessing to Zane, but it was still made easier by facing a neutral tapestry covered wall instead of my would-be king.

Shouldn’t that be a sign that this was a bad idea? That I could only talk to him if I didn’t look at him.

But then, he hadn’t tried to meet my eyes either. Maybe we just weren’t that sort of couple.

Couple. The thought took my breath away, and I struggled to release it, to keep from that trembling tension that I knew Zane would misconstrue.

“I’m alright,” I breathed before he could ask. “Just... adjusting. Overthinking.”

“Your thoughts might do us more good out here in the open.”

A surprised hiccup of laughter escaped me. “I don’t think telling you that the thought of us being a couple makes my limbs seize up with fear is helpful.”

“On the contrary.” Zane’s voice was soft enough it made me want to look at him, to see the kind of expression that went with that face. But I kept my eyes on the tapestry, wandering its warp and weft without seeing more than the colors.

“I think it’s extremely productive to talk about exactly how we feel with one another. My people will have a hard enough time embracing an avian queen. One that hides behind her haughty mask of reserve will never be tolerated.”

“And mine won’t like you no matter what face you show them.”

“Do you dance, Danica?”

The question caught me so off guard that I did turn to look at him then, staring in incredulity.

He gestured to the tapestry I’d been staring at without seeing.

It’s threads wove the tale of the first hawk, the golden queen Alasdair. The center was a radiant riot of gold, the hawk queen framed in triumphant flight against the sun. But the borders showed more subdued scenes, of brown and dying earth, of an infant in a feathered nest, of a young woman dancing among the clouds and then the fields, grown green at her feet’s touch.

“It’s just a metaphor,” I murmured. “Avian magic comes through song, not dance. But how do you weave a song?”

My gaze lingered on a corner piece, the queen Alasdair raised in supplication, stretched out long from the tips of her toes to her delicatedly embroidered fingers, raised high overhead with her wrists crossed. The details doublestitched over the base weaving made her pop, standing out in radiant golden threads on the more humbly woven green.

I was focusing on nonsense details again, remembering the technical skills that went into this piece rather than thinking about its deeper meaning.

“I just wondered,” Zane said casually, though this moment was anything but. “She’s woven against a backdrop of the Ahnleh, which is the sign of the dancers’ nests among my people.”

I tried to pick out the sign he’d indicated, but all I saw was the seal of Alasdair, a glyph as common to my eye as any. All coins, contracts, and sigils of protection bore some incarnation of that mark, a single line stretched from heaven to earth, with delicate branching wings meeting in the middle. It was mostly obscured by Alasdair herself on this work, but I knew it well.

 “I’m sure there are differences we just can’t see because she’s in the way,” I said, not really knowing what else to say. Was he just trying to distract me, til I calmed down and could speak more rationally?

 “I’m sure there are similarities, too.” His voice had gone all tender and soft again, and I couldn’t resist turning to look at him. “Enough so that I recognized it.”

 Our faces were unspeakably close, a breath way from touching. I knew that wasn’t objectively true, but... I’d never let my face linger so close to a man’s before. The thought of that beautifully cruel mouth so close to mine...

 “I never kissed anyone before.”

 The words came out on a breath unbidden, my mind tumbling from lips too preoccupied to hold anything back. They wanted nothing more than to press themselves against the hard softness of Zane’s, to see if those lips so clever and cruel could also be gentle and tender.

 But Zane had jerked back at my soft declaration, utterly shocked.

 “You’re joking.”

 The heat of desire flared into outrage. I felt my eyes harden and my lips thin out in a narrow, tightly pressed line.

 “Why would I joke about something like that?” My words were cold, measured, precise. “Why would I admit to such a weakeness in a moment of vulnerability where we are trying to be truthful with one another? You said anything to make this work, yet you’re mocking me for keeping chaste? It’s the way of my people, Zane. We don’t sneak into each other’s bedrooms in the middle of the night--“

 My words caught on the jumble of anger, and the memory of Elanor sneaking him into my room so he could propse to me while I was not even awake to recieve it.

 ”--and propose mad fancies as if that will solve anything! There is no easy way out of this, Zane Cobriana. We either have to work together, or make enmity anew with this pointless conversation!”

 I’d crossed my arms over my middle, holding my own ribs in that way of my most intimate of comforts. It was what I did when Rei was not there to hold so. I did it now to keep from flailing about, letting my hands speak the aggression my tone would not. I would not scream at him. I would not escalate.

 I would not be the reason the guards poured into the room and broke us apart.

 But I would also not sit here and be insulted.

 He was quiet for far too long, face turned away, hiding from me as surely as he accused me of doing with my ‘haughty avian reserve’. How dare he? How dare he! He was such a hypocrite, coming to me with this mad scheme, making grand gestures and pretty speeches and never once suggesting how this mad thing migth be done.

 I was so caught up stewing in my own fury that I almost missed his softly spoken answer.

 “I never said proposing marriage would be easy.”

 “But you never said anything more about how such a thing would be done, either, did you Zane?”

 It was all I could do to keep my voice quiet, to contain my outrage in harhly whispered tones.

 “You just dumped this problem in my lap as if I’d have any more luck solving it than you did. What am I supposed to do with this, Zane? If I say no, your feelings are hurt and we’re still without a solution. But if I say yes, we still haven’t really solved anything, have we? We’ve just made a complicated scenario more messy and entangled and vulnerable--“

 The rest of my words were cut off by his face suddenly in mine. I jerked back so quickly, I didn’t immediately process that he’d been attempting to kiss me.

 Fury burned, hot on my cheeks and in my eyes, and in my fiercely whispered words.

 “How dare you. How dare you! You think this can all be solved with an uninvited kiss?”

 “I thought that’s what you wanted!”

 He cut off my tirade with an equall fierce whisper, eyes dark with hurt and frustration. “Why else would you have brought it up, if not in invitation? I don’t know how you do things in the Keep, Danica, but I am trying my best. I know you expect me to persue you, to be the active party, so that your avian virtue remains intact, but what am I supposed to do when that isn’t the right answer either?”

 I just stared. He’d caught me so completely off guard, I had no idea what to do with him. My shock kept me from monitoring my words, kept me from doing anything but pour out the honest truth of my whirling thoughts.

 “You know--you know, do you? Well tell me, Zane, how am I supposed to act according to your serpiente morals? Because while you think you know everything there is to know about avian pairbonds, I don’t know a thing about serpiente--” I paused, groping for a word I didn’t have. “Skies above, Zane, I don’t even know what your people call it! You don’t have pairbonds, do you even marry?”

 “Would I have asked you to marry me if we didn’t have such traditions?”

 “I dont’ know!” I hated the emotion that crept into my voice. “I don’t know anything about what I’m getting myself into. I dont’ know the first thing about your people or your expectation and you’re asking me to marry you. Don’t you understand how absurd it is?”

 “Yes!” He met my fire with his own, both of us growing ever louder. “Gods, yes, I do, but I’m really out of ideas. I thought spending time with your people would help me understand them better, but I really have no idea--“

 “What do you mean, spending time with my people?”

 Zane looked away, eyes fixed on the floor. He was quiet long enough I almost thought I’d have to ask again, but he finally admited, “This isn’t my first time visiting Elanor’s aunts.”

 Again, I just stared at him. What on earth could I possibly say to that revelation?

 But he carried on, eyes drifting up to the tapestry, as if searching it for inspiration. Or apparently, memory.

 “I knew this tapestry becasue I spent a full night and a day staring at it, as I fought to work through a delirious fever brought on by that damnable falcon poison. Adelina brought me here, to the first shelter she’d found, and demanded a place to keep me safe while I healed. All I can say was that it must have been the will of Fate to bring me here, to a house sympathetic to true peace, with a wound minor enough that the am’haj didn’t just kill me outright.”

 I thought of Elanor’s retelling of his dramatic ride, of declaring it the will of Fate that he find her--and had to wonder if my dearest friend had lied to me. But Zane continued, sweeping me away with his dramatic story.

 “I stared at this tapestry and tried to keep my grip on reality as she sang to me of peace, a halluciantion to be sure. But when I heard of what you did for Gregory, I couldn’t help but remember that fevered dream, and hope...”

 “Hope for what?”

 “Hope that maybe it was a sign. That maybe things really could get better. That maybe hawks could dance with cobras, and peace could rise from bloody fields.”

 “Alright,” I said again, with less conviction than before, but more of an idea of how to proceed.

 “Alright?” Zane echoed with a raised eyebrow. I nodded.

 “I’ll sing you back to health. We send messengers to both palaces that you were injured on your return journey from the Mistari lands, and I’m attending your bedside to give you what healing aide I have. It will give us time to brainstorm, and maybe come up with a less ludicrous idea than a marriage neither of us actually want.”

 Zane just stared. I shrugged.

 “It’s the best idea I have. It buys us time. I just... I just need some time. To do what, I don’t know yet. But I didn’t have this plan until just now, so maybe, with a few more days...”

 “And what’s to stop the Keep from scouring the fields to find me and finish me off?”

 “My word,” I said firmly. “I’ve commanded the generals twice to stand down, and if they cannot obey me in this I’ll... I’ll,” I shook my head, trying to shake off some of the fury that had been building over the past several days. “I’ll discharge each and every one of them. I’ll discharge the entire army if I have to. I am done fighting. This ends here.”

 “Or they overthrow you,” Zane said with a dry wryness that was anything but humorous.

 “They can try,” I said through gritted teeth. “Shardae magic holds the key to the hidden fields on the far side of the mountain. If they want a civil war, we’ll see how long it lasts when their soldiers are starving.”

 Zane gave me wide eyes, but they were marked with approval. “Wisely put, my most bloodthirsty queen.”

 “I’m not--” But I cut off as I realized he was teasing me. I wasn’t used to people laughing at me. I was going to have to learn how to turn it into Zane laughing with me, as it was clear that was how he intended it. I was too accustomed to taking myself seriously. Even if it seemed no one else did.

I realized with a bit of a start that I liked Zane laughing at me--with me. I liked that it felt like he was honestly trying to engage me, not just manage me. I liked the thought that he, of all people, might actually see me. The thought brought color to my cheeks, and again, I felt the urge to get up and move.

 Which was why I made myself stay put, and even found the courage to lean back against Zane, to close the distance our fight had put between us.

 “I need an ally in this,” I said madly, hopefully, absurdly. “I don’t think I need a husband, but...”

 I let myself lay my head over against his shoulder, to show my serpiente counterpart that I was willing to try. Maybe not something as absurd as becoming lover, but at least co-conspirators. Maybe friends.

 “I certainly need an ally.”

 The Ties That Bind Tag list: @thehellinsideyourhead @therecouldbecolorsandlove @adventuresofacreesty​

Raev’s Gen Tag List (should I tag you guys in this? It IS a thing I wrote. I’m gonna say yes unless you guys are like “no of course not we’re sick of hearing about your stupid fic for a twenty year old book XD)

List is currently: @lordkingsmith @writinglyra @drbibliophile @mperialscribe @adie-dee @adie-dee @lexiklecksi @writinginslowmotion @raenawrites @apollon-arium @anika-writes

[postcards-to-home]

The Moaning of Traveling & my Vietnamese  Experience

There isn’t much in this life that compares to the mysteries of the night sky as we fly through them into a darkness that amounts to such beauty at the rise and fall of each day. To hold such hope and wonder as we trapeze across oceans and continents our elementary school teachers could only glorify for us. That lust for the uknown is something we hold close to the essence of our youth. A feeling we capture only when we are so lucky to experience travel. The slight tingle of excitement that seems to drown out every inch of worry and lack of sleep that hangs from our cheek bones is the very feeling I myself had travelling those daunting ten thousand plus miles to a world our grandfathers swore was none of our concern.

Here we were, I and a group of strangers, I just entering my twenties, deciding to do what every twenty something feels they are entitled to- a mission of self-discovery. Who wouldn’t want to travel to South east Asia,the backpackers capital of the world where we hear stories of men who dress as women, disgustingly enticing street food and lots of cheap booze. Its like a weird mix of college and real life scenarios but abroad. I sure as hell didn’t think my stereotype could be any farther from the truth. With that being said it was almost as if fate had found its way to me and changed everything.

“What the f**k am I doing in Vietnam?” is quite possibly where this all started or spewed about. Some wild thought struck me in that garden of purple flowers. Clay chunks clung to my ankle like the mist of the morning to my hair. Is it so hard to feel grateful for this view of the water? It’s swirling, cascading haphazardly into some unnamed river here in the Sa Pa valley below next to those god forsaken rice paddies that blanket everything in greenness. Goddamn it I swear to god the thought of white rice pieces on the back of my tongue makes my insides quiver.

I never made it past Lao Cai, or maybe I did. I can’t quite remember much after dry heaving at the thought of the cheery eyed goose that waddled my way only to be later slaughtered out back for our chopsticks to poke at. I never really did quite get the whole one stick in the thumb, the other on the pointer finger-or something like that.

The sun was out for once in that god-forsaken valley and I had to flash a grin at that despite my situation. Oh don’t mind me,my guide just told me to get on the back of a motorbike with a 13-year-old villager who may or may not have spoken a lick of English. But hey if it wasn’t for my dry heaving episode I wouldn’t have had that fleeting feeling in my chest that tore my breath right from my lungs, right  at the sight of the concaves of Mother Nature. Straddling leather between my knees with a mouth agape at the raw greenness of mother nature- leaves only a vegan could dream up. Thick and hearty chloroplasts manifested the endless rice patties fields that kept these people breathing and mine to cease for a moment. Blonde haired, blue eyed with a wonder struck look slapped across my face, nearly dizzy with the wind and the male villagers who chose to chase instead of look. “ F**k those backpackers trying to  walk this shit.Here I am on a bike seeing all I need to see hands free and with out a drop of sweat on my neck. That was until the rain made its way and couldn’t bother to leave me high and dry-just high on life and straddling a cliffs edge.

Warm and fuzzy no more I was brought back to reality when I was dumped off in front of the sapa sisters doorstep. Sa pa was no Hanoi and there was no way around the divergence of  the peoples. The Mong in black and the Daog in green, fighting for every last Dong I had to offer. One bracelet, two bracelets a scarf and a handshake later I could see my patience dwindling, their gold fills glinting.

Few and far between were able pharmacies that spoke English . Pills with out directions led to my inevitable overdose on something similar to ibprophin and Advil. During the time I spent between whimpering in my vacant hotel room bed I dramatically pondered the thought of my passing. Would the hammer repetitively  smashing my skull ever give way? Or would the herbal healing properties of the home made ginger tea,(raw roots picked from a hillside and boiled to pulp), I was given magically cure me?

( I just wanted to add in that at this hotel in SaPa I had a horrific encounter with a very large cockroach that proceeded to crawl out of my backpack into my bed. I eventually destroyed the little sucker after an early FaceTime call to my mother to which I began panting and aggressively yelling while she calmed me down as she did countless other times through out the trip all of which I am very grateful for.)

God has a funny way of taking away our hope, giving us what we need and not necessarily what we would have chosen on the first pick. It wasn’t my first choice to decide to leave. But when I finally had to, the road was not paved-Literally and I knew it was going to be a bumpy ride. Ill spare you the details of that hour long perils van ride through the mountains. There was a lot of crying ,sniffling, and a whole lot of praying to someone I had little doubt had me in mind.  I had the false sense of security once I’d stepped out of that shanty sack of shit on wheels and finally touched solid ground. God must have been taunting my efforts at feeling well because I lasted on my feet for less than a minute before I’d passed out behind a parked care in my own throw up. “Only in Nam would I f***king be spitting gravel, having my face splashed by a near stranger.” Thank you Olivia for rescuing me, those cigarettes I smothered from Jason were well deserved.

Days passed by. We continued to travel across the country reaching Hanoi after a nine hour overnight train ride. Sleeping on bunk beds, my body continuously felt the stress of the movements weighing me down from every bump in the night to the wearing off of the  sleeping pills I’d downed.

The movement of our bodies ceased to stop as we trafficked from train, to bus and onward to which would be my final point of no return- Ha Long Bay.Ha long bay is and was one of my few favorable memories inside the country. Thousands of limestone’s islands riddle the bay creating a maze of expanse for our tiny cruise ship to meander though out. Nestled atop the isles are thousands of year old forests and shrubbery adding to the beauty of the expanse where the land meets the sea. This scatter plot of landmasses gave way to wave eroded and salt crusted grottos bountiful for exploring. Ill admit once you’ve seen one massive dripping stalactite they all look the same after that-reminiscent of piss and sulfer build up around a toilets edge. But the views from the heights of their openings are ones to adorn. Bless the French for their discoveries.The entirety of the overnight exploration on our small cruise ship had left each and every one of us mesmerized. Teetering on the cabin windowsills edge , feet dangling, it was as if time struck me silly. The whole wind in my hair, look how pretty I am could only last for so long before the moment had to end.

In the airport located outside Hanoi, I sat on the floor alone, making a small attempt to eat what looked like Chicken nuggets from Burger king but tasted like cardboard, my first solid food in almost three days. The mass of a jungle lay before me as did an empty runway and a lingering feeling that all seemed unsettled. There were parts of me slipping beneath the dark cover that always lingers two steps behind. There was also this inner light small but dim, waiting inside me, the part that had accepted defeat and would understand, not now, but maybe later what it all means.

36 hours of being alone. That’s 2,160 minutes of thinking. 129,600 seconds of waiting. Probably the only amount of math I am capable of doing. That time span was today what I think of as one of the most enduring things I’ve had to overcome. Sucking up my pride, buying a one way ticket home and pushing every limit I had to get the hell back to New York with out getting any sicker. You would think I fought In the war of 65’ the way I’ve accepted such demise. The ironic part too was at the moments I felt so fragile and needed someone most I was at the greatest loss once I realized my phone was broken with in the first hour of my departure. My last text laughably had said “ We may need an ambulance at the airport.”

Its been almost four months since I took on the endeavor and looking back I realized 2017 actually sucked. But if it hadn’t sucked  I wouldn’t have realized all the things I did. Life lesson #1- You can do anything you set your mind to is actually a thing. I accomplished virtually nothing in retrospect except how to understand myself better as a person under extreme stress and isolation and that in itself is a miracle. Perseverance  is a virtue. Live it, Breathe it and remember it. Life Lesson #2 -feelings are temporary. No matter what state you’re in it will progress either negatively or positively- that choice is up to you. With out confidence in your abilities and self worth your image of who you are will never live up to the expectations you give it. So in times of destress and hardship, take a step back and understand how this situation will make you grow as a person and find faith and peace from that. Lastly If situations in 2016 hadn’t left me feeling depressed I wouldn’t have found myself riding that damn motorbike through the valley in a storm or trying pho or even meeting someone who would teach me a lesson about life and becoming a life long friend. So have faith in the journey god maps for you, It will never cease to surprise you as long as you take the risk and hope for the best even while expecting the worst.

***All of these pictures were taken by me except for the last three :)***