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paracosmic-gt · 5 years ago

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Prompt 39 - Solution

"I'll do it. It's the only way."

The effect on Jewel was immediate, the Anhemite straightening up as she moved to grab Seto by the shoulders and shake her head at the Japanese man. He wouldn't be the one to hurt himself, not in that way, not forever.

"No. I can't let you."

"But Jewel, I should be the one sacrificing something." He retorted, gently pushing her hands away to hold between his own, feeling cold scales warm beneath the heat of his palms. "After all I've done to you, I can't ask for something so permanent."

Permanent.

It would be permanent, sometimes Jewel forgot that fact, the one that made her heart ache. To obey the Rican district law and legally care for a wanted human as their son, one of them would need to give up their whole life. Their job, their perspective, and, to be frank, their privilege.

They’d need to become human.

They'd both frozen when they heard it at the interview, that to legally adopt a human, one of them would have to be under 6 foot 6 inches in height and able to interact with the human only districts in the town. There were quite a few, in fact, bordering the mixed areas while there were none close to the places with amenities for only giants, but being giants, neither Seto nor Jewel could get into them. Which meant Gabriel couldn't legally be theirs.

They'd walked out with grim expressions, looking to each other and wondering if the little boy from Terra was destined for a proper family. But now, the real argument was brought up. Because they both wanted a child they couldn't have together, but being a sorcerer meant there were loopholes Seto was willing to utilise.

"I-I can't. It's a trigger, this isn't good for your health."

"I know you won't." The younger man said, turning away from her and letting his hands drop. Jewel had been adamant that maybe this wasn't the best idea, maybe a giant child would be better for them to raise in a giant's household, but Seto refused. And the Anhemite could understand why; she'd seen the emotional connection he'd made with the little boy that clutched onto his fingertip like it was his mother's arm. The forbidden desire to care for him, raise him safely and like Teresa Knight would have wanted.

"Seto, I- you can't say that. You don't know, people can change..." The alien whispered, sighing as she hugged the man standing rigid against the bench and kissed him goodnight, feeling his arms soften at the action so alien coming from her. Seto whispered a goodnight into her ear and released her from his embrace, watching the only other giant in the small apartment move into the very next room to sleep.

'People can change, doesn't mean they will.' Seto found himself thinking, as he stepped into the bathroom to brush up for sleep.

That night, the evening of the interview, was two weeks ago. A week of discussion, tension, and snapped comments yet to be apologised for, then a week of 'taking their minds off it', had steered Jewel in the right direction, and that was to the door of a certain Fawn. The first visit conceded an agreement, that the Anhemite would take a potion to assist in the preparation for shrinking to the desired size, one that enhanced her strength so a jump in size wouldn't damage her in any way.

Eridan wasn't surprised to see his brother's wife, his sister-in-law, turn up at the small home that he had made his own ever since Terra had become much too terrifying to live in. She always visited with the brown-haired sorcerer he'd known from a child, but he knew why she'd trekked here in the rain a second time. And it wasn't just for a friendly chat, the second visit was going to be the last time she'd speak to Eridan as a giant.

Jewel was shrinking.

"You must be frozen, come in, come in."

Inviting her inside, he offered a drink, politely refused as the Anhemite sat down in one of the chairs he'd modified to suit his lower half. Her psyche roiled with anxiety, fear, and the slightest sprinkle of determination, and it wasn't long until those flattened pupils fixated on the darkened room behind him.

"I'm ready, Eridan. I'll have as much as I need until the end of this year." Jewel followed Eridan's instructions, entering the room to sit within a circle engraved on stone and chewing on a strip of willow bark to reduce anxiety and stress, all with an ever-steady trust in his craft. This wasn't her first time in a sorcerer's den.

"Human children need their mothers for many years, are you sure about this?"

"I'll rear the child until he can survive without me guiding him, then I'll return and switch if need be."

The Fawn acknowledged her firm nod and continued with his preparations, ears held still against his head as he collected the potion, unclipping it from its clawed base and flipping the top to take a sniff. The needed ingredients were diced and added, and with another sniff, Jewel was allowed to take the intricate vial between her thumb and forefinger.

"Sizeshifting can be dangerous for your health. Don't undertake two doses in one day or something might go wrong with the elderthrit, that's one of the active ingredients."

Eridan said, speaking clearly as he perched on his hooves before her, gesturing to the second bottle.

"For those times when you need to be small, give a day to cool off before administering growth."

"I will."

"Now, here we go. No turning back, take it at once, please."

"Of course. For our family."

...

...ewel?

...re you...kay?

Eridan brushed his thumb over the Anhemite's forehead, watching her slowly regain consciousness before those eyes opened, her whole body stiffening to the point where the muscles in her arms cramped. She wasn't one to visibly panic when the time came to, so for now, she just stared up and tried to comprehend Eridan's mass, glancing to the finger resting dangerously close to her neck. Seeing the visible fingerprint in the skin as small grooves that removed any sense of his hand being soft again. Feeling its heat, radiating off every part of him, blowing out of his nose as he exhaled like a steam-breathing monster, making her scales feel absolutely /freezing/ in comparison.

Comparison. Like she could ever be compared to him again...or Seto for that matter.

The Fawn loomed overhead, wide eyes Jewel could see every detail of seeming only centimetres away due to the fact they filled her entire plain of vision, short lashes she'd never noticed before, the kindly face put under a magnifying glass to expose little details that could no longer be called little. Strands of his blonde hair thick enough to grab, the texture of Eridan's skin, the hidden flickers of gold tucked into the grey eyes that now had /visible layers of muscle./

It was too much; too much of /him/, too little of /her/, and not enough space between their vastly different bodies to let her process what she'd just done to herself.

"Uh...Eri...dan?" Jewel croaked from a throat burning with the leftovers of his potion.

"Yes, Jewel?"

She couldn't help glancing down to watch his mouth

"Can you...move...move back? You're..."

"Too /close/."

The fawn completed her sentence, except with his words sounding otherworldly due to the fact they resounded without trying to.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure Seto will be better with you in this fragile time."

The Anhemite couldn't help her heart jumping to her throat thinking of Seto, words sticking as she mentally replaced the form, still looming over her despite backing away, with her husband. She began to hum in panic as she regained control of slow limbs and tried to physically push herself away from the thought; Seto wasn't going to be that big, wasn't going to be the only one who'd be able to wear her wedding band, wasn't going to be giant.

"Jewel,"

"Th-This was a bad idea, Eridan." Jewel pleaded, hoping to find solace only to feel another wave of insignificance as he hadn't realised she was speaking to him, her voice too quiet and his easily overpowering it.

"I can't...I-I...I can't do this!"

The Fawn fell quiet, calculating eyes falling over her as the minute features of his concentrated expression shift and loosen to form one of concern. A hand reaches to comfort, perhaps to hold her own or even to make contact with the shivering woman, but it's dismissed with a scared glare.

Oh no...

What could he say? How could he calm her down enough to not act like this before his brother, the person who'll want to hold her close and help her only to be completely unable to. Eridan wasn't letting that happen.

As hard as it was, he got down on his hands and knees, hooves still touching the ground before he lowered completely onto his stomach and tucked his hands respectfully beneath his chin.

"I know you're scared. But none of us want to hurt you."

"I know that." Jewel softly hiccupped, trying to tone her voice up but only succeeding in her sounding like a scared child. "I know you'd never do anything to me."

Eridan waited until she was finished this time before he began to speak, head bobbing as he kept his chin firmly pressed into his hands.

"Sparrow will understand, he'll respect your need to have space until you adjust.

"You did this for him after all."

Jewel blinked at the statement, remembering Teresa, the son cupped in Seto's hands, their small fights about the matter. His determination to be the one to shrink.

Her acceptance and willingness to give this up for them; Gabriel and Seto.

"I did this...for our family, Eridan." She corrected, finding the ability to curl up slightly and look up to her brother-in-law's looming grey eyes. Only a few feet above her head yet she had to crane her neck.

"Noted. /I/ just need to make sure you can do everything you're supposed to before we go see Sparrow."

The Anhemite couldn't help searching for a sinister meaning behind the cryptic sounding words that warped the very air around her. "What do you... mean?"

"Stand up for me, please.

The momentary hesitation on Jewel's part from a small movement of Eridan's hand had the Fawn nervous, but he pulled a kind expression quite easily as he shifts the limb backwards and closer to the other.

Slow motions. Focus on her.

"I just want to make it easier, should I need to catch you."

---

Sparrow = Seto

[This is a canon story]

I may or may not have a follow-up story depending on if I write it or not (duh) as a further prompt since this is part of my 100 G/T Prompt Challenge which I’m doing in order over on my Wattpad.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/99053641-varying-perspectives-g-t-oneshots

It /would/ be very adorable, since Seto seeing Jewel at that size would be a total surprise as well as a sacrifice he /must honour/ with hugs and presents.

Both pieces of art are mine, sketched on my phone. They came out surprisingly well for something meant to be transferred to my iPad, and I think they’re better like this.

Bye for now!

#story #mywriting #male giant #female tiny #myart #100 gt prompts #canon

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whynotcallitvanda · 6 years ago

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Rings, Roads and Reunions

Read on AO3 here

Wanda sat at the small, round table in the darkened corner of the brasserie, fingers wrapped around a mug of steaming tea. She enjoyed the steady clink of her rings against the ceramic. It's funny how she never tired of that noise, how even through everything, something so insignificant could make just a little bit happier. No one had ever asked her what sound best described her, the essence of Wanda, but if anyone had, she’d have said the continual tinkle of her hands around a mug of tea.

Why did no one ask that question? It was a good one. Made you think.

Wanda stretched out her fingers, examining the rings on her left hand. It was really a miracle that she'd managed to hang onto them. Lucky they'd found where their personal effects were stored on the Raft—

Lucky.

Wanda blew out a breath and curled her hand up again, shifting on the unsteady wicker chair. She'd lingered here too long. She shouldn't even be in this city. It was far too crowded, too well patrolled, despite the tourists, and of course she knew zero French beyond the few phrases Vision had taught her late one night, before—

Before.

Wanda was on her feet before the thought fully crystallized, dropping a few euros on the table and weaving her way back to the street, ducking her head and shoving her hands in the pockets of her long sweater.

Paris had been fun, but it was time to go. . . after just one more stop.

~o0o~

Paris. City of lights. City of love. The last place Vision wanted to be.

Or the exact place he did.

It was complicated.

Everything was complicated.

Vision sighed, wandering through the cobblestone streets, looking over his shoulder despite his mostly-perfected human disguise. Since the split of the team, since Vision's world had fallen apart, he'd practically begged Mr. Stark to keep him busy, anything to stay out of the shell of the compound.

Since then, he'd been travelling the world, doing whatever Mr. Stark required. Running errands, basically, and—

And keeping an eye out, hoping against hope that he'd catch a glimpse of scarlet, feel the brush of a familiar mind against his.

But Paris was too much.

~o0o~

“Also in that exhibition was Monet’s Boulevard des Capucines, which he painted in 1873,” Vision continued his mini-lecture, templing his fingers together, unable to stop himself from leaning forward towards her.

Wanda was sprawled on the couch across the coffee table from him, lying on her back, hair spilling over the cushions and down off the side. She stared up at the ceiling, but Vision didn't need to see her face to visualize that little quirk of her lips that meant she was both amused and confused by him. “Remind me how we got on the topic of the Impressionists?”

Vision considered. He knew the answer of course, that a conversation about a movie devolved into one about mental illness, and then about tortured artists, and then about art in general. But he'd learned that sometimes Wanda didn't want an actual answer to these kinds of inquiries, especially when they were accompanied by that smirk.

He must have taken too long to formulate a response, however, because Wanda chuckled and pulled herself upright, swinging her legs onto the floor and leaning forward to mimic his own position.

She yawned and endeavored to continue the conversation even though it was clear she was sleepy. “So, where is Cappuccino Boulevard?”

“Le Boulevard des Capucines," Vision corrected gently, “is in Paris, France.”

Wanda brightened immediately, perking up enough for Vision to infer that she had good memories of the city.

“Have you been to Paris, Wanda?”

She deflated, the sparkle that had briefly shone in her eyes dimming. “No,” she admitted lowly, studying her fingers.

Vision's breath hitched. There was an odd pressure in his chest, and it had something to do with the sorrow on Wanda's beautiful face. She was always beautiful, even now, but Vision rarely allowed himself to dwell on it.

As he processed his own strange emotional response—one that under any other circumstances he might have gotten Wanda to interpret for him—the room had fallen silent. He knew he should say something, distract her or ask if she wanted to talk about what was bothering her, but she saved him, again, from having to decide by offering up the information herself.

“It's a cliché, you know. For a little girl to love Paris.” She still wasn't looking at him, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle the weight of her gaze in his current emotionally-jumbled state. “At some point nearly every girl wants to go, be swept off her feet, something romantic.” Wanda shrugged off her words like they didn't matter, but the shake in her breath would have betrayed the truth even if Vision hadn't known her better than anyone. Anyone living, at least.

“I always wanted to go,” she continued. “Read all about it. I was a bit of a hopeless romantic, I guess.” She finally met his eyes. “But we didn't have the money before—and then after my parents—Well, there was no way it would have happened. It was the first thing Pietro and I were going to do after we got revenge on Stark.” Her lips twitched again, this time into a wry smirk. “Pietro always thought the romance was silly—it’s just a city, after all—but it represented something more, you know? Finally getting to have dreams again.”

She shook her head, taking a breath and blinking rapidly. “Sorry, Vizh. Didn't mean to—”

“No need to apologize,” Vision interrupted, wincing internally at his rudeness, but Wanda just smiled. “Perhaps—” Vision started, but broke off, suddenly unsure.

“Yes?” Wanda prompted, reaching across the coffee table to brush his hand with her fingertips.

“Perhaps we could visit together someday?” Vision offered, meeting her eyes. “If you want. Of course, I understand if that would be too painful or—”

“I'd like that, Vizh.” Wanda nodded, smiling encouragingly. “Really, I would.”

They shared a grateful silence, taking a moment to simply be, a small part of each of them wishing that nothing would ever change.

~o0o~

Vision forced himself from the memory, glancing up at the blue street sign on the building above his head. Boulevard des Capucines. That night he’d taught her some simple French phrases, but the subject of a trip to Paris never came up again. In all likelihood, she never expected to accompany him here, and was only being polite, considering his feelings even after such a painful admission on her part.

But Paris was irrevocably linked to Wanda in his mind, and being here irritated the edges of that hole he’d felt growing in his chest since she’d forced him through the floor of the compound. It was like he could feel her here on the streets, which was of course ridiculous, but he couldn’t seem to stop the nagging presence.

He shook himself, probably harder than necessary, and continued walking. He needed to finish his errand and get out of the city.

Vision barely made it a block before his sense of Wanda was so strong that he couldn’t continue. He spun wildly, no longer in control of his actions. The Mindstone was burning. Something was happening. He knew she couldn’t be here, knew better than to hope, and yet the pain burning behind his eyes made it too hard to reason. He reached for her blindly. His vision was blurring and ears were ringing. He was tricking himself, he knew it, and yet—

Vision?

Vision stumbled against a small tree, succumbing to the urge to close his eyes and clutch his forehead. It took everything in his power to maintain his disguise, took everything in him to keep from dropping all pretenses and rushing mindlessly towards wherever she was.

“Wanda?” he breathed her name, forcing his eyes open once more.

~o0o~

Wanda knew she should leave. Knew that just because she’d taken a train through Paris on her way to Scotland didn’t mean she had to stop and visit—but, of course, it did.

Natasha would be furious.

Wanda didn’t care. Like her rings, this wasn’t something she’d give up. You could take her name, her hair color, the ability to ever completely relax, but you couldn’t take her. She wouldn’t let it happen.

She needed to see it, to see Paris after all these years, and she needed to see that road, too, the one from Vision’s painting. Even if she still wasn’t sure how to pronounce it and had no earthly clue what the painting looked like. Even if she thought she’d be going with her best friend, instead of completely and utterly alone.

It didn’t matter.

She had to see it.

At first glance, it was just a big street. A pretty, big street. Well shaded. Very Paris looking. Wanda would’ve been underwhelmed, if she’d let herself. But this was Paris, and she was actually here where she’d dreamed about for so long, and nothing was going to keep her from enjoying the moment. A smile came to her lips, the first in a while. People moved around her, but Wanda didn’t care, standing still even if it made her more conspicuous, drinking it in.

Paris.

If only—

Pietro.

Vision.

The names came to her mind one right after the other, surprising her with their intensity. The ache for each was vastly different, but equally strong.

She hadn’t thought that she could ever get as close to anyone as she’d been to Pietro—and she hadn’t, not yet—but she could see herself that close to Vision, in time, if only—

Wanda usually never let herself think of Vision, but she did now, because why the hell not? She was in Paris without him, and she missed him, and it was silly not to let herself feel, just this once.

Her mind cast out for him, an automatic reflex that came from the image of his face, the sound of his voice, of the surprised laughs that only she was able to conjure form his beautiful vermillion lips.

Wanda sighed, about to turn away, when her powers caught on something, snagged on a mind and grabbed hold. She turned, powers pulling her eyes to a tall blond man a ways up the street.

It couldn’t be, and yet—

Vision?

The man—Vision, it had to be, her powers had never been this wrong—stumbled, supporting himself on a tree.

Wanda was moving on reflex again, not considering anything, not the cars barreling down the road she had to cross to get to him, not her fugitive status, or the fact that the man looked decidedly unlike Vision. It didn’t matter.

Until it did.

She stopped a foot from him, the nagging voice in the back of her head, the one that sounded a lot like Natasha, reminding her of all the reasons this was a bad idea. She rocked back on her heels, breathing heavy. He was close enough to touch, but still hadn’t noticed her. She could—

No. She wouldn’t run. That had been pain she’d felt from his mind, and she wouldn’t leave him.

He opened his eyes.

“Vizh,” Wanda whispered. His eyes—so blue, unlike anything she’d ever seen. Her Vision.

His irises whirled for a second, that part of his appearance apparently unchanged, and then he cleared his throat. “Uh. Well. I guess we made it to Paris after all.”

Wanda laughed, and fell forward to wrap her arms around his neck.

~o0o~

#Scarlet Vision #my writing #fanfiction #Wanda Maximoff #Vision #Also posted on AO3 #Will be adding more chapters/parts #hope you like it!

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parkersenses · 7 years ago

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Come Back to Me (Part Ten)

Fandom: Marvel Ship: Peter Parker x Reader Requested: Yes Genre: Angst/Fluff Warnings: Kissing (but who is kissing who 👀👀👀) A/N: We’ve made it my dudes (also ignore the fact that i had to make the gif myself bc it’s so bad) Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine

*Five Months Later*

“Where are you?” You asked through the phone, slightly worried but immensely irritated. “It’s our first homecoming, together. You were supposed to be here already!”

“I know, I know,” you heard him sigh through the phone, and you thought you could hear some kind of noise in the background. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I promise.”

You sighed now, louder than he did, and you were sure the displeasure on your face was obvious to the classmates around you. “Okay,” you said before hanging up the phone and shoving it in your coat.

You made your way to your locker to put your coat away, and you walked slowly to waste time before he got here. You knew what he had to do was crucial, but it was his homecoming too. And, even though it was insignificant in terms of what he was doing, it was your first homecoming as a couple.

You wanted it to be special. But he was late, so late.

When you arrived back to the gym, you smiled when you saw Michelle standing by herself in a corner, looking around the room in mild disgust. “MJ!” You yelled, walking up to her and throwing your arms out for a hug.

“Hi,” she said, wrapping her arms around you. She pulled away quickly, looking at your outfit. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” you said, still smiling. You looked down at your own outfit before looking at hers. “So do you.”

She nodded in recognition, looking away from you and around the gym. “Where is everyone?”

You sighed, beginning to frown. “I have no idea.” You looked at the school doors, waiting for him to walk through and give you a large smile. But he didn’t, so you looked back at Michelle. The two of you chatted, and at some point, made your way over to the punch table.

“So the author said-”

“I’m here, I’m here!” A panicked voice interrupted Michelle and the two of you turned around.

You smiled brightly, reaching in to hug him immediately. “Hey, Ned!” You exclaimed as he put his arms around you as well. When you pulled back, you adjusted the crooked hat on his head. “I like your hat.”

“Thanks,” he smiled in response, and then looked over at Michelle. He smiled shyly then, more subdued than when he looked at you, and you saw her give him the same look. You smiled slyly as you watched them hug, and when you gave Michelle a wink, she glared at you.

You excused yourself quickly when they parted, and the alarmed look on both of their faces made you laugh as you walked away. You hoped the privacy you gave them would finally lead to something more.

You roamed around the gym, not quite knowing what to do with yourself. You made your way through the gym doors to make your way to your locker, and you felt a strange feeling come over you when you remembered you doing the same thing exactly a year ago.

You smiled, nostalgic, as you thought of the night Peter had told you he was Spiderman. It felt like centuries ago, not just a year. So much had happened since then. It was like nothing in your life was the same.

You arrived at your locker, and you quickly unlocked it and pulled your phone out of your jacket pocket. You sighed when you opened it to see no messages or calls. You shoved it back in and slammed your locker shut in irritation, the sound echoing through the empty hallways of the school.

You leaned your head against it afterwards, the cold, hard texture feeling so vastly different compared to when you had leant your head against Peter’s, so many months ago.

You didn’t know why you were feeling so disappointed. It was just homecoming. It was just a school dance. It didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter.

But he promised, he promised, he said he would be there. He had kept his promise when it was most important; he could keep it again now. He had to.

It was your night to make good memories, good memories with him. And maybe it wasn’t prom, but it was still an important night. You still wanted it to be a night to remember. But maybe it wasn’t meant to be, and maybe—

“(Y/N),” you heard from behind you. It was a soft, breathy noise, and you recognized it immediately. You whipped around, nearly falling over in the process. The smile that graced your face when you saw him was the largest it had ever been, and the smile he gave you in return was just as blinding.

“Peter,” you said in return, just as soft. He was only a few feet away from you, but it felt like too much of a distance, so you rushed forward and wrapped your arms around his neck. His arms closed around your waist, and he held you close to him, with your face nestled in his neck and his head resting against yours. “You’re here,” you whispered into his neck.

“I promised,” he said in return, his arms tightening around you. “I always keep my promises.”

“You do,” you said, smiling, and you pulled back slightly to look at him.

He was clearly out of breath. He was trying to hold his panting back from being obvious, but you knew him better than anyone else. You laughed when you saw that he realized you could notice, and he laughed lightly, too. You let go of him to fix his tie, retying it for him when you noticed it was loosely put together.

“You’re a mess,” you chuckled, patting his chest after you adjusted his tie. He caught your hand with his, interlocking his fingers with yours. You looked up into his eyes to see him staring at you intently. “What?” You asked, confused.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said quietly, and lifted your connected hands to press a small kiss to yours. You felt your face grow warm as he did so. He had done it so many times before, and you should’ve been used to it already, but every time he left a lingering kiss on your hand, like something a prince would do to his betrothed, you couldn’t help but feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

It made you feel special, and it made you love him even more.

“Of course,” you said, a smile on your face and a blush on your cheeks. “I may have been a bit impatient, but-”

“No,” Peter cut you off, shaking his head, and you looked at him with a confused expression. “Not just tonight,” he said. “It’s all the time. I always keep you waiting for me, and I never show up when I say I will, but you wait for me anyways. You’re always there for me, and you say you don’t mind but I know you do,” he gave you a pointed look when you opened your mouth to object.

“Anyone would mind,” he continued, reaching his other hand up to hold your cheek. “I understand that. But you never leave,” he looked at you so intently, his gaze burning into you so deeply that you couldn’t help but lean closer to him as his thumb stroked your cheek. “And just- thank you. Thank you for always staying with me,” he was whispering now, and he started leaning closer to you too.

When you were sure he was done speaking, you only whispered a soft “I love you” before reaching up and kissing him. You felt him sigh against your lips, a happy, content sigh, and you began to smile into the kiss. He began to smile as well, but that didn’t stop the two of you. So you stood there, in the empty school hallway, embracing the love of your life.

You were happy, and you knew Peter was, too.

********************************* So I guess that’s it?? It’s been a wild ride, my dudes, and thank you for all the support I have received because of this story. I hope everyone liked this final part. Peace out, and I’ll be back with more writing for you guys.

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ruffsficstuffplace · 8 years ago

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The Keeper of the Grove (Part 5)

Morning brought with it a blisteringly hot and unbearably bright wave of sunlight all over Candela and the still unnamed expanse of mountains and bedrock it stood on, made tolerable and more importantly, nonlethal to pretty much any biological creature by the magical barrier now covering the city.

Vehicles outside of the borders rushed to the loading bays or the few outposts and smaller settlements scattered in the wasteland, trying to outrun the sunlight, keep themselves from being stranded till nightfall, where they’d have to pray they wouldn’t die from a failure in their heat shielding, boredom, or their fellow passengers.

Machines within the city started powering on and rolling out: construction bots ready to work at incredible speed and efficiency so long as the sun was up, dirigibles that sprayed condensation and precipitation to mimic clouds and water the city’s greenery, the many forms of public transportation to deliver the vast majority of daytime-preferring citizens to wherever they needed to go.

Drones, appliances, and human workers began to brew gallons upon gallons of coffee, tea, hot chocolate and other breakfast beverages of choice. Young children were being rushed along by their parents and guardians to make it to their classes on time, and their own jobs and obligations afterward. People enjoying leisurely breakfasts, exercising in the plazas and the gardens, or standing in jam-packed trams or sitting in (supposedly) ergonomically designed seats mostly listened to the tunes of “Good Morning Avalon,” or the daytime segments of their news station of choice.

The artificial lights of the city turned off and the flashier video ads turned to much less complex versions, their power being redirected to more important systems, the ones that kept its constantly growing population from dying of solar radiation, overheating, and in a handful of locations, being instantaneously vaporized by a slowly traveling beam of concentrated sunlight.

The view from Manor Schnee turned from a grossly incandescent beacon in pitch-black darkness, to a radiant monument of life, culture, and technology amid a barren wasteland, broken only by the tops of the tallest trees in the Viridian Valley.

It would have been a comforting sight, if both Weiss and Winter didn’t know that the Keeper was perfectly capable of terrorizing and slaying her victims in broad daylight, she just preferred to do it in the cover of night.

There was a knocking on Winter’s bedroom door.

The both of them flinched and screamed, jittery, nervous, and all too aware of every last bump, creak, thump, and other suspicious noise in the vicinity. Weiss whimpered, and buried her face back in her sister’s chest; Winter picked up one of the empty wine bottles beside her, ready to smash it into the wall and use it as a weapon.

The intercom crackled to life.

“Mses. Schnee,” a butler said, “your father wishes to see you both at the dining hall for breakfast in an hour. He understands that recent events have… err… weighed heavily on the both of you and caused a not insignificant amount of distress, and he consequently he wishes to discuss them with you.

“He has also asked me to emphasize that this is not a request.”

“Should the both of you require any assistance, we, your servants, are standing by, ready to help with anything you should want or need!”

“On a related note: Ms. Weiss, Chief Tov wishes to see you in their office as soon as possible. They wish to speak with you about a… unexpected visitor they detected in your bedroom as of a few hours ago. They have asked me to tell you that they’ve ‘Not a bleedin’ clue whatever THAT was, but I’m pretty bloody sure it’s VERY bad.’”

The intercom shut off. Winter slowly put down the bottle, ignored it when it tipped over and rolled off somewhere.

Weiss pulled her head out of her chest and looked up at her, eyes puffy and red from crying, dark circles underneath. “What do we do, sis?” she whimpered.

Winter sighed. “What else?: We get ready for breakfast with Father.”

Weiss balked. “You can’t be serious!”

Winter sighed. “I really wish I wasn’t, sis.”

“Can’t we find some way to get out of this?” Weiss asked.

“Not without making things worse. The way I see it, we’ve got two choices:

“One, we can go to breakfast like he asked, and hope that we can convince him to abandon any plans of revenge and/or trying to be the first human to settle the Valley, and more so, that the Keeper will keep her word.

“Or Two, we can stay here, wait to pass out from exhaustion, have Father become incredibly angry at being stood up, be forced to show up to lunch or dinner instead, then try to convince him not to anger the Keeper more than he already has while he will most definitely feel MUCH less inclined to agree with us.”

Weiss sighed. “So either way, we lose.”

Winter patted her on the shoulder. “If there’s anything the Queensguard have taught me, it’s that more often than not your only choices are ‘Bad’ and ‘Worse,’ and you better get used to choosing Bad,” she said as she started to get up. “Come on, sis, let’s go get ready for breakfast...”

Weiss sighed and reluctantly obeyed, pulling her head out of Winter’s lap.

“Is Jordan still on staff?” Winter said as she braced herself against the wall.

“Father won’t let anyone else do his make-up,” Weiss replied as she stretched out her legs, winced at the sensation pins and needles.

“Good,” Winter mumbled, “because she’s going to be integral to what I’ve got planned...”

In her letters and their rare live video chats with one another, Winter had always talked about how many tactics and shortcuts the Queensguard had for looking presentable and agreeable even if you had just come back from a sleepless, 72-hour-straight mission in the most dangerous and unstable regions of Avalon.

Make-up tricks to hide even the worst signs of fatigue and distress, and even make you look like you weren’t long past the end of your rope, if not exactly fully-charged and ready for anything. Recipes for concoctions meant to temporarily cure hangovers or dull the worst of its effects, make you completely awake and your thoughts coherent enough until you could crash for a good long time, or even improvised perfumes to hide the fact that you hadn’t spent nearly enough time in the shower. Quick and dirty meditation, psychological tricks, and specific tactics and guidelines for how to do the least amount of social interaction, with the least amount of effort or willpower, while looking the least rude and cranky possible.

They were so incredibly effective that the servants that hadn’t them earlier didn’t even seem to notice that anything was wrong with either of them, much more that their whole worlds were rapidly falling apart before their very eyes, and their lives ending much sooner, more suddenly, and more violently than either of them had ever imagined.

Even their Father seemed clueless or didn’t see anything too bad to merit specific notice, and Jacques Schnee prided himself on his ability to read people, deftly pushing all the right buttons, bringing out the strengths of his allies and employees, and mercilessly attacking the weaknesses of his enemies and competitors.

(To be fair, though, he never did devote as much time nor energy to his daughters as he did them.)

“Weiss, Winter,” he said, looking up from his tablet long enough to nod at them before he returned to it and whatever was on the surface.

In spite of the luxurious, tempting spread of oven-fresh breads, perfectly smoked and fried meats, and freshly picked and perfectly sliced fruits and vegetables before him and arranged specifically for his view at the head of the table, his plate was empty, and his customary mug of coffee untouched and still in its protective bubble.

“Father,” Winter said as she took her old seat, the one just to the left of him.

Weiss said nothing as she sat in the one next to her, a distance of at least one chair between her and her father as always.

Servants came to offer them refreshment and recommendations about which particular offerings they would do well to start their breakfast with, but they both refused and waved them off—they weren’t feeling very hungry, either. Both human and robotic staff lingered for a while longer, until they decided their presence was unneeded, or they automatically returned to their docks from lack of input.

Silence lingered for a few moments more, until Jacques finally put his tablet down. “I’m going to be sending another prospecting team in three days time,” he said. “Weiss, you are no longer allowed to join it or any other expedition outside of this city—not until you are 18, and without a serious discussion between you and I once more.”

No courtesies, such as asking they partake of some food first.

No inquiries about how they were feeling.

No polite conversation about the weather, a topic to lead-in the heart of the matter, or a vague hook to test the waters.

Just a firm, clear declaration of what he was going to do, without hesitation nor doubt, the trait experts said his investors found most appealing about him.

“You can’t be serious,” Weiss said flatly.

“It’s for your own safety, Weiss,” her Father replied. “I was vastly mistaken in how effective your guards would be, and I’d rather not risk your life again; you may entertain this newfound adventuring spirit of yours when you are of legal age.”

“This isn’t about me, this is about the Keeper!” Weiss screamed.

Jacques looked at her in a mixture of annoyance and contempt. “Not you too...” he muttered, his gaze wandering over to Winter.

“Father, you need to stay out of the Viridian Valley, as with everyone else in Avalon! Haven’t you lost enough money on this venture? Weren’t you there to see the injuries those mercenaries sustained? Doesn’t the fact that Weiss almost got killed there bother you in the slightest?!”

Slam!

“ENOUGH OF THIS!” Jacques roared, his closed fist shaking on the table. “Winter, I had thought these delusions of of a mythological creature--”

“She’s NOT a myth!” Weiss screeched. “I’ve SEEN her! I’ve TALKED to her! And she’s going to KILL US ALL if your ego is more precious than you and your family’s lives!”

“Father, PLEASE!” Winter cried, absolute terror in her eyes. “Just this once, just this once, can’t you please just find it in your heart to just believe us?!”

Jacques Schnee gritted his teeth, his whole body shaking, his eyes glaring icy cold daggers at his daughters. He slammed his palms on the table and rocketed off his seat, sending his sturdy, wooden chair crashing to the floor.

All the human servants winced as the sound echoed throughout the dining hall. Then, all was deathly silent, the tension in the air so thick the weaker-willed among them suddenly found it hard to breath.

“Whatever is lurking in that valley, I will annihilate them, and show the survivors why you do not antagonize the Schnee Power Company,” Jacques growled, before he turned around, and left.

Ruin was coming, alright—just not for the Valley.

#white rose #rwby #the keeper of the grove #fanfic

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bnrobertson1 · 5 years ago

Text

No Hooch, Year Two: On Moby Dick and Meditation

To mark a second year of not drinking, I wanted to do something more substantial than last year’s Se7en-style “celebration” of engorging half a cake, so I decided to read Moby Dick. I’d never read Melville’s meditation on, well, everything*, but a confluence of Wiki-wormholes, a pandemic-limited social calendar, and a lifelong promise to myself to actually, you know, read it (as opposed to referencing it as though I had whilst defogging my monocle) merged at just the right time to propel me through the tome’s intimidating heft.

*It’d be pedantic horseshit to call it my new favorite book, but it’s The Greatest Novel I’ve Ever Read. I recommend it for its existence-sized ambition alone, although if you write things you will feel a little insignificant afterwards.

You know the story: fish eats man’s leg. Man, upset about the whole leg thing, pursues revenge at all costs. Between pages of the most Metal shit* ever put to page (articulated with Shakespearean grandeur, no less) a story of obsession is painted that is as powerful now as it was 170 years ago.

*Metal Gods Mastodon’s album Leviathan is an ode to the book, and does not exaggerate the intensity whatsoever

I’ll can it about Moby Dick- but for the purposes of this, one of the novel’s main themes is a suitable launch pad. Specifically, that of the seductive, destructive power of self-delusion. Drinking, for some- for me- fueled self-delusion like no other. Sure, the self-delusions at first were usually of the more harmless, if not exactly positive, variety- feelings that I was stronger/ more handsome/ more charming/ smarter/ funnier than I might actually be- in other words a confidence boost of debatable need. Alas, as has happened to far better than me, the self-delusions eventually began to take on a more negative tone, and that- eventually- is why I decided to take a break.

But self-delusions don’t just stop when the drinking does. Oh, they fester, alright, and morph into toxic self-trickeries. Delusions that relationships won’t significantly change*. Delusions that the fact you don’t constantly talk won’t come across to some as a sort of new holier-than-thou attitude. Delusions that others care about your own well-being as much as you should. Delusions that warp themselves into useless mental narratives that in retrospect feel more at home in a bad sitcom than real life. They eat at your mind like termites, chewing through ladders of progress like driftwood.

*As someone who responded to others abstaining from alcohol with cynical, if sarcastic, grumblings along the lines of “I don’t trust people who don’t drink,” I really understand both sides. The funny (and perhaps hypocritical) thing is I still kind of don’t.

I decided to place the blame for all my woes at booze’s tasty, awesome feet, thinking like (sorry, one more MD ref) Ahab that if I slayed my White Whale, all would be solved. I’d convinced myself that the only thing keeping me from bliss was just that one hurdle- perma-happiness merely required snatching the fermented fly from my ointment. I had convinced myself that my many, many flaws would evaporate like the corn squeezins from my skin and other organs and that the world would regain some lost, heavenly harmony once I put the bottle down.

Of course, this turned out to be utterly false. My the relief of my newfound quasi-clarity proved to be almost narcotic in its power, constructing a pride that blinded me to my own complexities. In fact, alcohol had helped me a lot more in life than I wanted to give it credit for- it made my quirks less rigid and my tolerance for pretty much everything far, far higher. To call it a mere “social lubricant” seems to minimize its profound (albeit ranging) effect on my personality.

Alcohol filled a void in my life that I just assumed would be replaced with light and good tidings once I stopped. And while other substances, concerts, Stereolab vinyl, the first three books of Knausgaard’s My Struggle, and sunrise exercise did do a bang-em-up job filling that emptiness at a slightly-higher-minded level, in truth a lot of the hurt I was trying to avoid by not drinking was more than happy to wait and sharpen its knives while I fooled myself into thinking I’d figured it all out. Anxiety- while not nearly as bad as it was in my hungover/drinking days- would still spread and pop in my veins at the mere scent of confrontation or reckoning, like an oil site aching for a cracked pipe. Even though I was doing good things for my physical and mental health, I wasn’t really grappling with some of the things that drove me to alcohol in the first place. But that’s a topic more appropriately discussed with a certain person I pay a (non-prostitute) hourly rate every other week.

Hungry for a reprieve from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, I found myself doing deep dives into literature and music that would heighten some of my experiences with some of the aforementioned substances. Another self-deception? Sure, but in concert with a slightly clearer head, this one actually produced something positive when it led me to stumble upon Jamie Wheal and Steven Kotler’s life-altering Stealing Fire. A book about elevated planes of consciousness, “flow” states, and how they can vastly improve lives, the book- as well as David Lynch’s Catching the Big Fish- coincided with an intellectual superior’s suggestion to get me to try- of all things- meditation.

I freely admit this was not easy for me to do, as I have found “earthy” folk to be some of the most obnoxious on the planet for most of my life. But my desperation for some sort of lasting change led me to get over my stereotypical assumptions about the cliche meditator (and the fear of being associated with their soft-spoken, vowel-loving kind) and give the meditation app Calm a go. I felt results immediately, even in a period where outside forces seemed to be conspiring to obliterate my ego. Long story short*, taking time for mindfulness provided refuge in a real motherfucker of a year, and would eventually lead to a daily Transcendental Meditation practice and a peace of mind I hadn’t ever encountered and for which I will be eternally grateful.

*Yes, this is the abridged version.

Meditation taught me humility, appreciation, and clarity by slowing down my relentless thoughts- something I once thought an asset- and gave me the new lens of equanimity through which to see the world. The humility* to realize I wasn’t the “most” or ‘best” anything in the world, nor would I ever be, but I wasn’t the “least” or “worst”* either**. I began to appreciate kindness as a form of a most pure, dynamic courage, not the bi-product of some bland weakness. Finally, a heightened concentration gave me the clarity to see a lot of those self-delusions for what they were, well-intentioned self-defense mechanisms that’d gotten warped and lost their way. Being exposed for what they were, they just kind of went away. The culmination of these teachings gave me the foreign feeling that while I still have a lot- like a stupid amount- of work to do, I actually kind of like myself.

*Another excellent teacher of humility has been picking up my mom’s dog’s shit every morning for the last few months. Few things will make you reflect like a dog making direct eye contact with you as she, as my mom puts it, “does her business.”

**Sure, I knew these things at a lip service level but to actually realize them was due to meditation.

But it’s not all good. Some relationships got stronger- others rusted- others crumbled. Some of my flaws that had been dulled by alcohol or good ol’ fashioned neurosis grew pointy again. All of this probably would have happened had I been drinking, albeit in more dramatic fashions. Life- at times- seemed insistent that I pick up the bottle to smooth some rough patches both personal and universal.

I didn’t not drink because I was strong, or disciplined. But- for the first time in a long time- the sheer terror of total relapse wasn’t the cause for my not drinking either. I abstain because I’ve got enough shit to sift through and frankly I’ve come to kind of like my edges, plus I find just thinking about being hungover to be exhausting.

(That said, I promise if I pick up the bottle between now and the next of these over-shares, I will exhaustively report back, much like I think people who post outrageous amounts of wedding photos on social media should be legally obligated to also post subsequent divorce papers.)

I’ve started to see my faults as something to be worked on, not a damnation- or something to be blindly defended, for that matter. Meditation has taught me that change isn’t just possible- it’s constant whether you want it to be or not. I miss a lot of who I was, but I certainly don’t miss the way I felt, and embracing the now only sharpens that appreciation. There has been pain and will be bad days, but the alternative simply doesn’t appeal to me anymore. I don’t laugh as much but I smile a lot more.

I’ll close with what you may have been thinking- why write this? The first reason should be self-evident: to get some hot, hot ass.* But for realsies, I share this because writing helps me give what I referred to last year as “the abyss” some semblance of shape. What was once the void is just now a really big, fucking mountain of labyrinthine design. And while not feeling understood has always been an issue of mine, so I genuinely appreciate it if you made it this far, its really the posting itself that’s the point. Secondly, I find the stigmatization of those with mental health issues, while much improved in recent years, to be one of the biggest plagues on modern society. Although I don’t live anything resembling a sweet life, I feel being brutally honest is at least my way of trying to combat that. Thirdly, I wanted to impress you with the fact I read Herman Melville’s 1851 classic Moby Dick**. Now, if you’ll excuse me the 2/5 of cake I’m staring at isn’t going to eat itself...

*Every blog’s raison d’etre

** Great book!

0 notes

devilsadvocate007 · 5 years ago

Text

Facebook Posts July 2010 - December 2010

4th July 2010

The illusion that everybody's opinion matters has created a society in which stupidity must be considered just as seriously as brilliance. Gone are the days where stupid people weren't allowed to talk while big people were talking. Now they have their own facebook pages.... On the bright side, we no longer have to rely on television for entertainment

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10th July 2010

♫ Just gonna stand there and watch me burn....well that's alright because I like the way it hurts......Just gonna stand there and hear me cry....well that's alright because I love the way you lie...♫ - ‘Love the way you lie’, Rihanna ft. Eminem

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14th July 2010

If there's no such thing as no such thing, then there is such a thing as no such thing, which means that there really is no such thing as no such thing.

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15th July 2010

Bad?: So I was standing next to a fat girl and I turned to her and said "moo". At first she started to cuss and call me names and tell me about my mother. I quietly said "moo" again without lifting my gaze. This time she started screaming and clawing at me. For the last time...I said "moo". She stopped and looked at me, then after a minute of silence she said "father?"

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25th July 2010

You know you're doing something wrong when your fiancée tells you "I'd rather be his whore than your wife"... ♥ Titanic

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30th July 2010

You ever meet someone so dumb that you think they're up to something? "What?....no....what you playing at?....wait.....you're serious?"

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5th August 2010

The 1st tao of Jarid: {For all those in a relationship...the sentence "It doesn't matter anymore, I have a man, I'm gonna let loose" is not acceptable unless you're talking about a party or sex.}

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6th August 2010

I know I'm not the only person that finds irony in the fact that the guy that recently beat the JAMAICAN Bolt, is called Mr. Gay. lol "Gay shocks Bolt in Stockholm" is the Headline....So what did we learn? U can run from gays all u want my Jamaican brethren, but it'll catch up with you eventually...

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15th August 2010

Life is too short to waste on people who don't realize how awesome you are. I knew an awesome person who never followed the crowd or did what was 'expected'. She's gone now, but I can say she lived her life the way she wanted to, surrounded by people she liked who definitely liked her. When my time comes, I want someone to say the same about me. So fuck off and thank you.

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17th August 2010

Can someone explain to me how purposely doing something that makes your guy friends happy and like u, but at the same time leaves ur woman unhappy and unsatisfied, isn't gay? "Bow cat" it would seem is the opposite of "battyman"....not synonymous.

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20th August 2010

"Ur like a giant fucking cock blocking robot developed in a secret government lab or something" - Zombieland (lmao)

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21st August 2010

♫ That's alright, thats ok....g'on head believe what ur home girls say...a nigga like me drink alotta liquor, meet alotta bitches, take alotta pictures....I might break bread with 1 or 2 strippers, but that don't mean u gotta pull my zipper...thinkin that I dicked down the whole town, even tho I got dick to go round ♫ - ‘Smell yo dick’, Kay Luv

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22nd August 2010

♫ You say its my fault, ok then I'll go...its better to know...how theres nobody to argue with...cuz im not home...dont care who ur with....dont call my phone...or did u forget...u know you're wrong...I'm gone....and you're all alone....hearing your own damn...eh echo eh echo ♫ - ‘Echo’, Gorilla Zoe

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8th September 2010

♫ A penny for my thoughts, oh no I'll sell them for a dollar, They're worth so much more after I'm a goner, And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin', Funny when your dead how people start listenin'...If I die young ♫ - ‘If I die young’, The Band Perry

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10th September 2010

The tao of Jarid: "Facebook is not a place to publish things you wish to remain private. By its very nature, anything put on here voluntarily is for people to notice, see, and by extension comment or ask about. Getting defensive when asked about something YOU put up in the public domain makes no sense."

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11th September 2010

The tao of Jarid: "Women treat the male gene pool like a real pool. They all jump in and splash around the shallow end in their youth...then wade out to the deeper end as they get older."

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15th September 2010

“Watching your daughter being collected by her date feels like handing over a million dollar [violin] to a gorilla.” - Jim Bishop

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17th September 2010

Taxi driver on the way home today: "You see men? Especially young men like you? You need to eat raw foods. Lemme tell u the other night I was with my gf and no matter WHAT position I put her in...me deya fight fi cum! FIRST time me haffu TRY cum. All when me done, cocky stiff stiff"

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22nd September 2010

Birthdays on facebook are really opportunities for people that never speak to you to subtly say "I care! Don't delete me! Look how I wrote on ur wall!" lol

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23rd September 2010

The tao of Jarid: The lawyer most people know is the American lawyer. That's why lawyers have a bad name. Caribbean lawyers are nothing like their American counterparts (the laws and practices here are vastly different). People should remember that before they band all "lawyers" together.

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23rd September 2010

Listen, I understand that having a BB means that u can talk to anyone at anytime for free, but seriously...10 grown ppl sitting in a room engrossed in their phones not speaking to each other, is ridiculous. What happend to common courtesy, what happened to meeting new people and saying hi to a stranger? Sheesh. U remind me of little kids in church playing their gameboys.

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26th September 2010

U know what I hate? The fact that hypocrisy is so prevalent. Any time you see someone stand up and strongly take a stand against something...9/10 times they do it. If they vehemently denounce homosexuals, 9/10 times, they're sleeping with little boys. Its SO common now, that I never want to take a strong stand against anything, lest ppl think I secretly do it. Chupz.

The tao of Jarid: For those of you who believe that "no means no, but unconscious means yes".....a prison cell awaits.

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28th September 2010

The legal way of saying “nigga stole my bike”: “ A human being of the male gender wth black pigmentation on his skin appears 2 have acquired without my consent my 2-wheeled, non-motorized private and/or recreational transportation, also known as "bike", and appears 2 have driven away with said 2-wheeled, non-motorized private and/or recreational transportation,�� despite my attempt of chasing the said human being, completely ignoring my request 2 give sed item bk” - username iani103. Man, I love my profession.

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1st October 2010

I think women should develop the same "fuck it" mechanism guys have. If there's a baby in the house crying for hours on end...what you will not find is a man around. Y? Cuz we can't fix it and its driving us crazy, so we roll out and go by Tony's house to watch football, i.e. fuk it. More women should do that instead of staying in the stress and snapping and shaking their babies to death or driving them into a river.

The tao of Jarid: Facebook should have a 'WHO CARES?!?' button....and make my page immune to it.

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2nd October 2010

The tao of Jarid: The more "LMAO"s and "LOLOLOL"s your status contains, the less funny the actual subject matter is. Contrary to popular belief, nothing gets funnier the more you laugh at it by yourself.

Grown men's fascination with penitentiary pussy confuses me... Sex with it = go to prison. What's the problem? Where's the option? All I see is "Sex with prison". No thanks. That's like the "option" 'get in this dark van so I can drive u to my abandoned cabin in the woods or I shoot you'. All I should be hearing is *gunshot*.

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4th October 2010

The tao of Jarid: Drama vampires are not cool. While the rest of us need food and water to live, these creatures survive solely off drama and other people viewing it. The only effective way to deal with them is to block and delete them from everything. If you can't see their drama, they weaken and die. True story.

“I think when you put sex and spirituality in the same bottle and shake it up, bad things happen. Yes, I said I kissed a girl. But I didn’t say I kissed a girl while f-ing a crucifix.” - Katy Perry (on why she dislikes Lady Gaga’s music video for ‘Alejandro’)

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5th October 2010

"This is my facade of civility; do not mistake for complacency, for once this veil is taken down, you'll see a vicious turn around...of all you grew to know and love...the hand lying beneath the glove.... An animal living in a shell. A beast who's come to raise all hell."

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6th October 2010

The tao of Jarid: Forget CNN, BBC or any other news organisation....nowhere else are world issues more discussed than on YouTube's comments section

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8th October 2010

You are one person, out of 7 billion people, on one planet, out of 8 planets, in one solar system out of a hundred billion solar systems, in one galaxy out of a hundred billion galaxies.......you are ENORMOUSLY insignificant, and don't let facebook ever make you forget that. [De-motivational Speech for the day]

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11th October 2010

Anybody remember when they FIRST came on fb YEARS ago? How it used to be? How Fb made hi5 look like the social networking ghetto? It was so clean and neat and classy. "Jarid Hewlett", likes, interests, lil about myself. Send ur friends who u havent seen since primary school messages. It was a magical innocent time. Why did you people have to rape facebook? Why?

Now? as NC17 says, no more "Jarid Hewlett", we have "Jarid fuckspussyallday Hewlett", we have "What kind of telly tubby would u have sex with?" quizzes, we have people fighting over who their baby's daddy is for the world to see. (Btw when did this shit become acceptable? Not knowing which guy ejaculated inside and impregnated you is something people used to be ashamed of and settle in private...why is it cool to broadcast this now?), we have break ups where guys blatantly put their numbers under "X is no longer in a relationship"..... What happened to CLASS??? I understand they don't teach that in school, but they bloody well should. No one comes on fb to keep in touch with people anymore. And the ones that do, spend 20% of their total fb time doing that. The rest of us laugh or bow our heads in sadness at the ridiculous shit people post. I'm black and I hate racists and racism, but goddamn it....sometimes, as much as I hate to admit it.....I see where they're coming from. <sigh>

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15th October 2010

♫ We're going out tonight...to kick out every light, take anything we want, drink everything in sight, we're going till the world stops turning while we burn it to the ground tonight! ♫ - ‘Burn it to the ground’, Nickelback

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21st October 2010

The tao: Men get bitter, just as women do. The difference is, a bitter woman will say "fuck men" and never have sex again. A bitter man will say "fuck women" and do just that.

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26th October 2010

The tao: "All inclusive" does not mean "free cheap rum and vodka with juice". Stop the false advertising.

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27th October 2010

The tao: Having high standards doesn't necessarily exempt you from whoredom. While we all agree that having low to no standards makes one a ho, having high, meaningless standards makes one a ho too. "I only sleep with guys that drive BMWs" is a high standard. It is not a substantive standard.

♫ And who do you think you are? Running round leaving scars....Collecting your jar of hearts, tearing love apart........You’re gonna catch a cold, from the ice inside your soul.........So don’t come back for me, who do you think you are? ♫ - ‘Jar of Hearts’, Christina Perri

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28th October 2010

"Labour all de way"? "UPP all de way?".....come on, man. I'm "all the way" with whoever makes Antigua a better country. Politics has come to mean arbitrary following of a party that makes your immediate life better regardless of the long term. Don't even get me started on 'patriotism'.

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31st October 2010

The tao: He who is slow to anger gets annoyed the longest.

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1st November 2010

♫....you just hurt my goddamn feelings, and that was the last one I had ♫ - ‘Here we go’, Eminem

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2nd November 2010

Lawyer talk: My Lord, my client was not anywhere near the building when the window was broken, and if he was, he did not break the window, and if he did break the window, he did so by accident, and if he didn't break it by accident, it wasn't the complainant's window, and if it was their window, it was their fault for putting it where my client throws stones.

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8th November 2010

Mr. Kartel, you sir, have lied to me.....apparently women do not want a man whose "buddy long like a thousand match stick line up"....apparently that hurts and more than 90% of it will be outside anyway. You have misled me sir, and I demand an apology.

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10th November 2010

On a serious note.....which do you think is more "loving" and less "heartless"? (Option A) Being in a relationship and cheating gratuitously on your significant other? Or (Option B) breaking up with your significant other who probably didn't see it coming, because you want to sleep with someone else?

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11th November 2010

The tao: No one really sees anything. Everyone thinks they see something. I might think I see a pudgy, ugly woman, you might think you see a curvy goddess. Who knows whats actually there...The difference between sane and insane people is that insane people are just a little more creative with what they think they see....and nothing can change their mind.

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14th November 2010

The tao: If someone tells you something you don't understand, don't repeat it. It might have been wisdom when they told you...but after your brain is done with it, there's a high chance it comes back out as crap.

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15th November 2010

"You're Cuban AND Jamaican?? That's a really.....illegal mix, lol. So you speak Spanish and bloodclaat?" - Mike Yard (*dead*)

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17th November 2010

The tao: One should never let emotions get in the way of reality. Sometimes people just don't appreciate you no matter how you feel about them. That's ok. Someone does.

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19th November 2010

♫ Well I'm a poet to some, a regular modern day Shakespeare.....Jesus Christ, the King of these latter day saints here ♫ - ‘Renegade’, Jay-Z & Eminem

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25th November 2010

The tao: Whenever you think "don't let a good thing pass you by"....remember that many things are only good now BECAUSE you let them pass you by at first. Don't be afraid to let go.

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26th November 2010

"If my wanting to see you was on a scale of 1-10.....I'd still say no". It takes a while to fully appreciate just how horrible this statement is.

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27th November 2010

U know what I just realized..?..The first time I listened to the Marshall Mathers LP was on *cassette*...in my * Walkman*....that Michael Henry had copied for me.....I'm gonna reserve my rocking chair in the old folks home from now, see...

The tao: Stop saying "I'm just me". Everyone is just them. If you choose to be someone who tries to be like other people, that's still who you are. You are just a personalityless ninny, but it's still who YOU are. You can't ever be anything else but you. "I'm just me" is like saying "I breathe oxygen". No shit.

♫ Me start da day wit a flask, cranberry an ice inna glass....satellite can't find me me lost....buy me own liquor cuz me a me own boss....drink fi drunk dat me endorse....OH ♫ - ‘Rum & Red Bull’, Beenie Man &Future Fambo

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30th November 2010

Seriously....if I read one more comment under a political story with someone urging people to "wake up", I'm going to slap somebody. I always find it fascinating that politics turns otherwise sensible people into jackasses. "Belief is the enemy of reality".

Lesbians have life so easy.....girls are very gay normally, lol. Dressing in front of each other, dancing up with one another, feeling up one another etc.....you could pretty much spend ur whole life being a lesbian and no one would ever know once u lie every now and again about some boy u find hot.

"The fact is governments deal with the United States because it's in their interest, not because they like us, not because they trust us and not because they think we can keep secrets," - US Secretary of Defense Robert Gates. If that's not gangsta, I dunno what is...

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2nd December 2010

♫ I love my life....none a we don't know wey tomorrow might bring cuz the future deh hours away...so me go live my life today...me ah live my life today...so lowe me mek me talk what me want fi talk, me have nuff fi say...so me go live my life today...me ah go live my life today ♫ - ‘I love my life’, Demarco

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7th December 2010

The tao: Never overestimate the power of friendship.

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9th December 2010

♫ De boy ketch me a stamp up him gyal postcard....want arrest me but....him anna sarge....he nah stop tell me how him a camouflage....never voice ya hear from him vocal cord because.....a we mek nuff man start drink Guinness ♫ - ‘A we’, Hawkeye

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11th December 2010

The tao: The next time someone you thought you mattered to lets you down, always remember that its not their fault you don't have better friends.

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17th December 2010

Men beware: "Your mouth says no, but your eyes say yes" will never ever stand up in court.

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19th December 2010

The tao: Stop bitching about the 'true meaning' of Christmas. People like presents. Deal with it.

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21st December 2010

The tao: Put on a jamaican accent and include "bloodclaat" or "bumboclaat" and any sentence becomes five times funnier. E.g. "Where are u going, u unhygienic homosexual?" "Yow, a where dis dutty skin, yellow teet, shitty draws BUMBOCLAAT battybwoy a go?" Same message. Five times funnier.

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25th December 2010

The tao: "I have a boyfriend".........."Babes....you can have ALL the boyfriends you want...not "a", not "some".....ALL.....me still want u". - This conversation will always go like this. Saying you have a boyfriend is not a substitute for saying no.

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30th December 2010

New year new me! "Are u getting a sex change?" What? no..... "Are you changing careers?" Um..no.. "Are you radically overhauling your entire personality?" Not really... "Shut up and sit down"

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