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id-rather-be-an-outsider · 3 years

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AOT Preference: Dogs

a/n: first time doing a preference in awhile, but I want to specifically say DO NOT EVER get an animal you are not completely prepared to care for. animals are animals and will act as animals do. if they act out that’s not on them, that’s on you. animals need to be in forever homes, and it’s your responsibility to create a suitable environment for them and to not put them in situations where they could potentially be harmed or harm others. know your animal, know their comfort zone, know their needs. don’t take an animal on unless you’re ready to parent a child that never grows up for 15+ years. be responsible pet parents!

edit: just realized I used she/her for Hange so I fixed it. apologies to all my nb folks!

masterlist

Annie Leonhart

Our girl Annie would have a Siberian Husky. Strong, agile, hyperactive and able to trek long distances, they’d be perfectly suited for one another. You would be invited to tag along, of course, but you would have to keep up, lest you fall victim to the whines of an overly dramatic husky who desperately wants you to get a move on.

Armin Arlert

English Springer Spaniel, for sure. He’d fall in love with their soft coat, and their size would make them the perfect lapdog for reading, and taking long walks outside... to do more reading. Definitely a bonus that they fit comfortably between you two in bed at night, and a bonus that their little tail looked oh so very precious when it wagged!

Bertholdt Hoover

A gentle giant himself, Bertie would end up getting a Great Dane. Unlike Reiner, he’s a lot better at managing his thoughts and feelings about their study abroad trip to Paradis gone wrong. All he needs is his gigantic lapdog and you, his adoring partner. Sometimes he’d pass out on the dog in the middle of a cuddle session, and the patient thing would stare at you with pleading eyes, waiting until Bertholdt finally woke up to escape from being stuck in his arms for another hour.

Colt Grice

Colt would get a pair of Dalmatians, one for each of you. He loves their spots, their sleek build, and their energetic, yet quiet temperaments. Picket fence and all, Colt would want the happy home life!

Connie Springer

Connie would insist on having two dogs, so they don’t get lonely when you’re away from the house. He would bring home a pair of puppies with floppy ears that were adorable - an American Foxhound and an American English Coonhound. To Connie, their howls at all hours of the day, only ceasing when he falls asleep, is absolutely glorious, but to his neighbors, it’s a sign they need to invest in earplugs. Sasha would regularly steal the pair away from you so she had a full squad to go hunting with, which you wouldn’t mind since they liked the trips and got their energy out that way.

Eren Yeager

Much like how Eren picks his friends, so too, would he pick his pets. Not caring much for pedigrees, nor where a dog came from, Eren would get a shelter mix pup, probably one that’s older and been sitting there for longer. He’d sense a kinship between them - two beings looking for peace, and they’d find it in one another. The dog being absolutely adorable in every way would only be a bonus.

Erwin Smith

Commander Erwin would have a wolf-dog hybrid. He’d find the creature out in the woods, abandoned by their mother, and see the strength in their limbs despite their fear, and their resolve to survive. He would take them on as his own and together, they’d be the perfect pair of leaders, alphas in their own rights. When you became the alpha female of the household, the little beastie took to you right away, hoping that maybe you would be the one to finally grant their wish of feeding them off your plate. Of course, you never did it, because that would be irresponsible! At least, you’d parrot what Erwin said until he was gone for the day. Then, if a few bites every week fell on the floor by some magic mistake, well, who else was gonna clean it up?

Hange Zoë

Hange would have a fox! They’d be so interested by their behavior, they’d end up testing them and doing fun (and very humane) experiments on them, like exposing them to different foods, toys and puzzles, to see how they’d react. Foxes aren’t a regular pet, and they’d be fully aware of that and even over prepared to care for them, doing research years ahead of time until they felt completely ready to take one on. Needless to say, you’d be fascinated by them, but would insist Hange keep a separate, pee-proof space for the little creature they rescued so long ago. As cute as they were, you preferred your house not be ruined by their inability to potty train.

Historia Reiss

Historia would intend to get a small dog. What she would end up with, however, would not be a small dog. She would fall in love with the warm, kindly brown eyes of a giant and adopt a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog right then and there, no hesitation. In the end, it would all work out. You couldn’t always be beside her in bed, but she was always guaranteed to have an enormous lapdog by her side at all times - her protector in the throne room, her helper on the farm, and her body pillow at night. Who needs a weighted blanket when you have a hundred-pound puppy sleeping on you?

Jean Kirstein

Jean would have a German Shepherd. He adopted them when he first wanted to join the Military Police, but after he changed his mind, he still cared enough to train his dog as militantly as he was trained. It actually helped him soften up a bit (which ended up catching your attention in the end), and who wouldn’t? With those big brown eyes and floppy ears, it’s hard to resist the urge to sweet talk... and maybe, just maybe slip one or two scraps of meat under the table. No one will notice, right? Other than you, of course, who notices everything, because Jean has never been good at hiding things from you.

Levi Ackerman

We all know Levi is a clean freak and would never want a small dog that does nothing other than bark. He’d have a Standard Poodle, probably an apricot color. They’re smart, good hunters, and most importantly, non-shedding! They also are very sweet, not unlike our Captain (even if he’s good at hiding it). The one thing he wouldn’t expect, however, would be to find a trouble maker in his home. Stolen shoes, stolen ties, stolen cravats, even - somehow they would all wind up somewhere his sweet dog seemed to frequent, but they were clever enough not to be caught, so what could he do?

Marcel Galliard

A chocolate lab! They’re sweet and adventurous, as well as protective, and are absolute cuties. Marcel would love having a fluffy companion, and would take his Labrador on long hikes every weekend.

Marco Bott

Marco loves to look forward to the future, and he’d love to experiment with a newer breed of dog. The Catahoula caught his eye with their well-muscled body, and your excitement over their coat pattern sealed the deal. When you both realized just how much energy they had, you ended up joining Annie and Marcel on their hikes and volunteering your pup for hunting trips with Sasha, so they weren’t up all night long playing.

Mikasa Ackerman

Mikasa is the only person out of this bunch that wouldn’t get a dog - she’d have two cats, at least one being a brown tabby. Mikasa’s so dedicated to her work that she wouldn’t see herself as a person with enough time for dogs, but she wouldn’t mind caring for two soft kitties who curled up on either side of you two every night, even if they somehow always managed to have their butts in your faces when you woke up. Cats have a way of doing that.

Pieck Finger

Pieck would own a Weimaraner. Curious, cute, and a standout, they both fit the mold of “dogs and owners who look alike” with their deep, inquisitive eyes and playful, loving natures.

Porco Galliard

Like Porco, Pitbulls can appear tough and menacing on the outside. Also like Porco, pitbulls are just big babies who want to be loved on. He’d likely already have one before you two fell for each other, and his pit would see the loving nature in you and start coming to you for snuggles - which might have made Porco feel left out, if he wasn’t always in the middle of it.

Reiner Braun

Pomeranian. This man has seen some shit, and what better form of comfort than you and a tiny puffball with googly eyes? Fortunately, his Pomeranian would be unusually mellow, understanding he relied on their calm to maintain his own headspace after everything that’s happened.

Sasha Braus

Sasha would get an Irish Setter and an English Setter. She would take her dogs on hunting trips to help her track down animals, and when they got home she’d sit up for a cuddle with her two favorite pups and her favorite partner, you. Cocoa after a long day of hard work is fantastic.

Ymir

Everybody knows that Ymir wouldn’t intend to have a dog. She wouldn’t want anything or anyone to depend on her, but one day, when a band of strays would come around her apartment and try to attack her, another random dog would come from out of nowhere, fight them, and chase the rest of the pack off. Upon seeing the heroic dog injured, Ymir would feel indebted and take them in. Just until they healed, of course - then, it would be off to the local shelter for them. But then, you would drop by for a visit and the dog would love all over you. And then, Ymir would keep waking up finding the dog had managed to crawl into her bed and sleep next to her every night. And then, one thing after another, Ymir’s heart would soften just enough to let the scroungy stray who saved her life have a spot, right next to the spot reserved for you, and your family of two would grow to be a family of three. And then, you would find a puppy on the side of the road and take them home to Ymir after you moved in with her, and your family of three would grow to be a family of four. And then, when the puppy grew up, Ymir would find her laying in a closet with a litter of semi-scroungy-looking pups, and your family of four would become a family of five, six, seven, eight... and so on.

Zeke Yeager

Zeke has wavy golden locks, and so do golden retrievers. They’re also both incredibly cute, sweet, and popular. Need I say more? Fine, if I have to convince you. They also both have very kissable, kind, and meddlesome faces. Don’t tell me you don’t see it there!

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2lim3rz · 4 years

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No warnings this time! Just pure little T’au and Kroot fluff uwu

Dachan’hult’s eyes were half closed as he basked in the sun. He was not on guard duty yet for his was in the evening when his eyes worked best. His Shaper had lead him and his small clan in many battles, and they had eaten many creatures that could see in the night as they could the day.

But some things were not easily removable, such as the glory of this planet’s sun, a wondrous gift from Vawk’s battle with Gmork. It was warm and comforting, as if he was swaddled in a blanket. On his head, his quills and vestigial fins were raised as if he was determined to take all of the sun’s early morning rays.

“What are you doing, mister?” the smallest voice he ever heard asked him, begrudgingly, he blinked open his eyes, white with just the slightest hint of orange, to look at the small little T’au that stood below in the shadow of the rock he lounged upon. He never kept proper track of which type was which as adults, but it was obvious which type the children were.. Sort of, at least the Air Caste was as clear as day.

And yet the small T’au youngling stood upon two stout little legs that were even stouter than the Fire Caste him and his brethren so often worked with. Legs that would one day grow to be strong with muscle and help the youngling further their Greater Good. It dawned upon him as he slowly tilted his head that the little one was one of the Earth ones. “Warming in the sun.” his voice was a depressed croak compared to the chirpy curiosity the youngling had.

“Warming in the sun?” deep, near black eyes looked at him in confusion “Mama says that laziness is bad.” And yet here you are, asking a Kroot questions while holding a toy. He didn’t say this to the little one as his quills and fins lowered slightly, his eyes crinkling in a smile as he opened his beak in a silent chuckle. “Your carer’s right. But you need the sun.” as if to emphasize, he closed his eyes and raised his head towards it, taking a deep breath “It gives you energy.” looking back down to the T’au youngling, he angled his head so that he would get less of a headache from facing the sun like he did.

“I thought food gives you energy?” to those confused words, Dachan’hult nodded imperiously “It does. But so does other things. You never feel tired playing, and yet you do when you stop. There is energy everywhere, and we just take it for a little bit.” Shuffling their hooves in the dirt, the T’au’s face scrunched up as she digested the words. Slowly, she nodded and looked up at him. “Does your beak feel like wood? It looks like tree bark. Can I touch it?”

Touch.. his beak? Dachan’hult gave a true, barking laugh. His quills raised to their fullest as he tossed back his head. Just as quickly as it came, it dwindled to a chortle as leaned down much closer to the little one’s height, crinkling his eyes again. He thought he would be fighting the massive predator beasts of this newly colonizing planet. Or doing anything else than talking to a youngling and indulging curiosity.

With wide eyes, she adjusted her hold on the small handmade toy of some sort of doll in coveralls as she patted his beak. “Whoa! It’s sharp!” she squeaked as she poked one of the little barbs that adorned it, a welcomed side effect from the nocturnal little beasties they had consumed long ago. Clacking his beak carefully, he sat back up. “So I can eat.” just as he said those words, another two younglings approached hesitantly. Upon that moment, he realized he may have put himself into a predicament in answering one’s question as one turned to three and three turned to six.

How were there already so many young about? Dachan’hult already knew the answer as it only made sense to bring families on a colonizing planet to make it more populated. In fact, he was regaling the children in a little adventure he had went upon when he was their age. An innocent little tale that, of course, was stretched a little extreme. For there was no vast river he had crossed, but a simple creek that he slipped and twisted his ankle on. Of course, that twisted ankle hurt quite a lot, there was no exaggerating it.

“Are you an auntie now, Dachan? Thought you were sleeping!” a light whistling voice spoke behind him. Turning his head a little, as he couldn’t quite move with two younglings perching on his lap, he have a hiccuping click. “I was sun dozing when this little dirt shaker woke me from my nap.” the said youngling that started the whole thing raised her voice in a squeaking protest before erupting into giggles as Dachan’hult ruffled her hair.

Snickering, Hauk-Mok started shooing the little T’au away and Dachan’hult begrudgingly helped. He laughed warmly as the two siblings that approached second waved brightly and scampered away in a giddy squeal. Distantly, he could hear a parent or two calling for their charges. His laughed dwindled, his smiling face turning more somber as he watched them. “It’s noon, you’ve missed half a day’s sleep.” and he shrugged only in return. “I think after this I will go home if Grrennik lets me, Hauk-Mok.”

The kroot that stood beside him gave a startled look, quills rising. “Home, what for?” and he had to laugh at the other’s tone. Hauk-Mok sounded so shocked at his claim. “I’ve been reminded why I love to fight. I fight for family. So that our future can live in more peace than they did before, perhaps.. it’s finally time I go home and have one of my own if I’m lucky, if not I’ll just be the clan uncle and tell you and Arkesh not to drink strange flowers even after Grrennik said not to.”

Hauk-Mok still appeared surprised. He suppose it was since he always threw himself headfirst into any job. Steadily, his brother Kroot rolled his head and flexed his quills, whistling and clicking as he did. “You’d be no uncle, you’d be a damn grandfather. And besides! That was one time!” Hauk-Mok joked, shoving Dachan’Hult’s shoulder.

“Now go! Go and get a proper rest before your shift.” he continued speaking after. Hissing playfully, Dachan’hult stood and stretched his limbs from sitting still for so long. “You just want to sunbathe, you thieving snatcher!” Dachan’hult barked as Hauk-Mok sat down, looking smug as if he owned the warm rock. “You sure bet I did!”

#Tau #kroot #warhammer 40k fanfic #fluff #2lim3rz writes

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serendipitys-lie · 5 years

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Harry Hook x Reader Imagine “Trust Me” Pt. 1

Harry hook imagine

Authors note: Again I take requests on any fandoms I’m always free just ask away! This wasn’t requested but I thought about it haha :)

Also the part where you start with “I’m the girl who loves my island” is basically a passage from the reprise song that Moana sings in the movie Moana and I thought it’d be nice to include lol

Also i split this into two parts (maybe even three) because tumblr says its too long ;-;

Summary: You are the daughter of Moana and after the events of its going down you are left behind on the isle to fend for yourself. You run into Harry Hook who will end up being your best chance on getting out and along the way you will learn more about each other and grow closer in relationship.

MAJOR WARNING: BIG MENTION OF RAPE, I DONT REALLY MENTION IT ITS MORE OF ME IMPLYING IT BUT ITS STILL THERE SO

~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up from your dream in a daze panting slightly. Taking in all your surroundings you realized, yes you were still in the same place and yes, that place was the isle of the lost.

Normally the isle of the lost was not a place where a princess should be, let alone the daughter of Moana herself yet you were here. You had begged the VKs to take you on their rescue trip to save your closet friend Ben who had been kidnapped on the isle. Sadly a mist the battle between pirates and royalty the group fled in a hurry and had forgotten that you were on the other side of the plank once Mal had kicked it off.

As soon as they realized their mistake they tried all they could to get you back, you assuring them you’d be fine and that they just needed to go. The last thing you saw Mal word to you was “we’ll come back for you” before they disappeared into the pipe and you fled from the pirate scene hoping to stay out of view from any villains.

That had been nearly three months ago when it occurred and they still hadn’t come… you still hadn’t left. Yet it all consisted of the same. Everyday you’d hide out in Mal’s old apartment and leave when you needed food and such making sure no villains or crew members of Uma found out there was a princess on the isle.

You had learned to steal, it wasn’t a favorite of yours but sadly you learned you’d need to do it if you were to survive anymore on this gosh forsaken dump of land. You hated it here, not for reasons many would think. You were homesick, tired, and alone. You’d give anything to be back in Auradon smiling with Ben and your friends yet, you were not.

You sighed preparing yourself to head out for the day. You put on your beige shorts, red top, white sneakers, and your signature Hawaiian flower (given to you by your mother) in your hair. Lastly you tied the look all off with a big, old, dirty cloak so no one would recognize you and you left.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been “shopping” around for what felt like hours before you began to grow tired. Your feet were starting to ache and you only wished to go home when something shiny had caught your attention from the corner of your eye. You quickly turned to see the object more clearly and couldn’t help but feel your curiosity grow. You definitely felt your mother’s childlike wonder grow in you more and more as you inched closer now in a more secluded area of the alleyways.

You had decided that you’d just take the item and be on your way. Yes stealing was wrong and always would be but you only ever stole food and you didn’t see why you couldn’t steal for your own pleasure for once. And so you did, you inched closer and closer till you finally grabbed the item, yanking it from its position, and running.

You ran as fast as you could feeling the wind in your hair and your cloak hood fall. You could hear footsteps approaching faster and louder and quickened your haste. When it suddenly seemed like you had won and the steps had died down you reached a dead end in a dark ally way and ran into the wall, falling to the ground with a thud and mentally cursing yourself for being so clumsy.

You were just about to get up and sprint when you suddenly felt a grip on your wrist and chills go down your spine. You were pulled to your feet and pushed in the hold of whoever had caught you. Your back was pressed against the strangers front, whoever it was clearly being taller than you and being able to keep a strong, tight grip.

You wriggled and squirmed but just could not break free of the hold they had you in. You suddenly felt a warm breath down your neck and the words, almost a haughty whisper by your ear,

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you that stealing from a pirate was a mistake?”

Your face flushed at the voice, feeling uncomfortable and hot at the same time. With one strong big push you were able to break free from your attacker, hitting the wall once more, dropping the stolen item, and falling on your butt. As you looked up, one hand shielding your eyes from the sun you saw it, those beautiful blue eyes, the shadow of the figure putting the shiny, stolen item onto his hand. you knew instantly who he was! You had recognized him from the battle to save your friend and what you had just happened to steel was his pirate hook… ouch.

“Harry Hook” you spat out.

“Well well well, you do know me. That’s a shame lass I don’t recall who you are?” He said holding one hand out to you to help you back up with a cheeky grin. As you stood up and were able to give the pirate a better look at your physique, many things seemed to finally come back to Harry.

“I know you doll, you were at the battle! To save king beastie! Oi you must be some kind of princess now aren’t ye? Let me guess lass, go on gimme a princess name” he said with a menacing grin.

You rolled your eyes at the pirate annoyed with his behavior and the fact that you had finally been caught.

“I’m not a princess, I’m the daughter of the village Chieftess. There’s a difference and frankly I’d rather if you didn’t know who I was thank you very much” you answered calmly seeing it as an opportunity to start walking away when he grabbed your arm once more and moved closer.

“Tsk tsk tsk” he began, “you’ve made two mistakes in one day lass. Never steal from a pirate and never walk away from Harry Hook. Now judging by your snarky attitude and rebellious behavior ima say your Y/N, the daughter of Moana ye?”

“H-how… how did you know that?”

“I know all royalty love, I’m a pirate, makes for good loot stealing plans.” You just simply nodded and gave him a straight face hoping he wouldnt ask why you were here.

“Now, what’s a good little lady like you doing all washed up on our shore hm? Are you lost? Stuck? Oh- oh ho ho!!!” He began chuckling and smiling all along. “Did the mean wittle villain kids leave their least favorite friend behind to rot on an island with no one but herse-“

“ENOUGH!” You yelled cutting him off by surprise but not long enough for him to smirk realizing he had gotten to you. “I chose to stay, no one left me, you can stop bothering me now.”

“Oh come on love, no one chooses to stay on this dreadful place, not even I wish to stay here, only madmen and witches. If you did so desperately wish to stay what was the reason? Did ya miss me?” He asked with a cheeky wink at the end.

You rolled your eyes and thought of a quick, untruthful, reply.

“I just wanted to know what it felt like… to fend for myself, to steal, to not be good for once. It’s not to much to ask for!” You began realizing your answer may not have been the best and quickly changing the topic. “Anyway what you did you say about even you wanting to leave?”

“Ah its true lassie, not even the most handsome devil on this island wishes to stay…” he took a seat on a barrel nearby, you taking up room next to him on some crates, listening to him begin to speak. “I wish to go to a place, I don’t expect you to know. Tis a place I come from. My sisters are there and my father, the one I am sure to make proud. I miss them… they were lucky to make it to the unreachable land were as me, I was too slow and got put here. I dream about the beautiful island everyday, a place I’d rather be with my mates and my family just chillin happily. Ah yes, what a glorious place it is… Neverland.”

You choked once hearing the last word… “Neverland”. No not Neverland. You wished to never think of that place again. You wished you’d never have to go back. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

“Only thing not too glorious about Neverland is Pan” he mumbled clearly annoyed with the thought.

“N-never. Never mention that name to me. I never want to hear of that man again, got it?” You snapped.

Hook smirked, “Finally someone who hates him as much as my family does! Welcome to the club lass! Whaddya hate em for?”

You didn’t respond. Rather than listen to Hook babble more about his “dream island” you began to think long and hard. You were tired of waiting for rescuers who were sure to never come. You needed off the island now, and you now had a better chance because you had something you didn’t have before. You had a useful persons motive.

Cutting the pirate of you stood up right in front of his sitting figure, gaining his attention and, looking dead into his serious eyes.

“Hook,” You began, “I have an idea and just hear me out. We both really want off this island for different motives but our goal is the same. To just get off the island. If you show me a way to get off the island I promise I’ll take you to Auradon and get you a way back to Neverland.” The last words leaving your mouth left a sour taste… you couldn’t go back to never land you couldn’t…

Hook was not the least to say intrigued at the idea you were proposing and didn’t know what to think. He really wanted out of this gosh darn smelly town but he didn’t know if he could trust you, yet something told him he could.

“How do I know I can trust ye?” He asked raising an eyebrow.

You paused for a second before responding with a smirk.

“You’ll just have to trust me and find out. Deal?” You said sticking your hand out towards him to shake.

He smiled for once, not a smirk but a genuine soft smile and took your hand sending tingles all over your body.

“Deal”

~~~~~~~~~~~

You arrived at what seemed to be like one of the far corners of the isle. A cliff that lead to a straight drop into the murky green water and the bright yellow barrier ahead. Straight across you could see a small rift in the barrier, a part that never seemed to have closed when they locked everyone up here. The hole was too small for even a human infant to fit through but barely big enough to fit a small rabbit.

“That’s our ticket,” Harry whispered behind you sending shivers down once again, man he really loved doing that.

“I’ve known about this hole for ages but never been able to get through it, no one has. It’s just there… taunting us and all we can do is stare at it.” He stated looking at the small tear coldly. You studied more of the surrounding and found out something amazing. The ocean water in the isle never listened to your call despite being friends with the ocean, it was like this water was hypnotized or poisoned. But the water just outside the hole was still blue and filled with life… what if…

“I can get us through,” you said to Harry. “Just umm…” you trailed off looking around. You grabbed him by the arm and sat him on a wooden fence not that far from the cliff. He seemed amused watching you walk back to the edge with excitement. As you reached the side you could feel his wandering eyes on you and just picture his evil smirk.

“YOU KNOW IT DOESNT HELP WHEN I CAN FEEL YOU STARING AT ME!!!” You yelled back at him not even turning around to know.

“Well excuuuuseee meee princess!” He said sarcastically with another huge smirk knowing he had gotten to you again and turning to face the other side of the fence.

You began to feel more calm and at peace. You took a deep breath and tried what had always worked before, you began to sing.

“I’m the girl who loves my island I’m the girl who loves the sea It calls me”

Harry rolled his eyes seeing as it was clearly no time for karaoke. He began to open his mouth to speak for you to knock off the foolishness but stopped as he felt the passion in your beautiful voice grow stronger.

“I am the grandaughter of the village chief We are descended from voyagers Who found their way across the world They call me”

You began to look out onto the horizon and sure enough the ocean seemed to be moving but as you had remembered! Your friend was listening to your pleas!

“I’ve delivered us to where we are I have journeyed farther I am everything I’ve learned and more Still it calls me”

You began to feel a smile creep on more and more on to your face as you watched the ocean rise higher and higher to greet you. Harry not being able to stand not knowing what was going on turned around to witness a giant mass of water squeezing through the rift in the barrier and reaching up to your forehead as if to give you a kiss. To say he was baffled was an understatement.

“And the call isn’t out there at all, it’s inside me It’s like the tide; always falling and rising”

You witnessed your great grandmother, a beautiful spirit Manta Ray leap into the air and splash into the water. You were filled with so much passion and determination tears began to brim your eyes.

“I will carry you here in my heart you’ll remind me That come what may I know the way I am Y/N!!!!”

With the last words you sang, you began to walk backwards a reasonable amount preparing to do the unthinkable. It took Harry less than a second to realize what you were about to do. Oh no, a fall from this height was certain death, there was no way.

Harry reached out to grab your arm but barely missed as you had already sprinted off the cliff and into the waters down below making a huge splash into the mass of crystal clear waves that were still floating.

You began to laugh happily, content to be with an old friend again. After what felt like ages to Harry and seconds to you the ocean hoisted you back up onto the cliff just enough for you to reach your hand out to Harry.

“Let’s go home.” You smiled at him extending your hand for him to grab. He reached out to grab your hand when a booming voice scared the three of you.

“HARRY!!!!” It screeched really loudly. You saw her surprised eyes and remembered instantly. How could you not… Uma.

The ocean immediately became frightened and set you down safely back onto the cliff with Harry, scattering it’s way back through the hole and far, far, away. However it wasn’t fast enough for Uma to notice you could have just found a way out for her.

“Well well well,” she began. “What do we have here? Little y/n! Daughter of the stupid ocean girl… blah blah blah. Grab her.” You suddenly were grabbed on both sides and couldn’t move. You tried struggling but nothing seemed to be able to break you free.

Uma began to circle you as she spoke. “Little poor y/n. Far away from her precious royal friends and even farther from her precious island! How cute! I’ve been rotting on this island for longer than you’ve been alive sweet pea and I was starting to lose all hope off getting off after that whole Mal and Ben fiasco. But now… now it seems fate has brought me something. You. And I’m not failing this time.”

Fear struck your heart listening to her speak “what are you going to do?” You asked. “Kill me?”

“Oh dear” she laughed maniacally. “Of course not… I wouldn’t dream of hurting you! Besides I still need you alive if I am to leave this wretched place, let’s just hope you’re really worth something.” She finished having gotten closer to your face and grabbing your mother’s flower from your hair.

No. You could feel the panic attack setting in. You needed the flower. It couldn’t leave you! It would protect you!

“UMA!” You begged and shouted. “PLEASE DONT TAKE IT FROM ME NO!!! PLEASE!!!! IT WAS MY MOTHERS YOU DONT KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO ME!! GIVE IT BACK PLEASE PLEASE!!!” You screeched, sounding like you were calling for bloody murder. The sobs became harder and the panic began to set in all the while pleas and begs leaving your mouth.

“You’re so cute when you beg!” She laughed evilly. “Harry, lock her up.”

You turned to look at Harry, your bloodshot eyes and sobs escaping your mouth directed right at him. Harry didn’t know why but he could feel his heart break and it broke even more when he heard the next words leave your mouth.

“t-traitor! TRAITOR!!!!!” You screamed. “I TRUSTED YOU! GIVE IT BACK PLEASE I CANT BE WITHOUT IT PLEASE!!! I HATE YOU TRAITOR!!!!” You cried all the way to your cell, Harry having to cover his ears with his hands and his heart with a mask.

#harry hook imagine #harry hook #captain hook #decendants 2 #disney decendants #decendants #moana #panic attack #help #what am i even doing

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me-mindfulexistence · 4 years

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100 Ridiculous “Get To Know Me Questions”....And What My Husband Guessed I Said.

Need something to do? Share some “get to know me questions” with your friends and family”.

I answered 100 “Get to know me questions” alone...and then later I asked my husband what he thought my answer would be. How many did we match?

1.Who is your hero? (me) No one in particular. Anyone who stands up for the underdog, (Fights for the weaker person, feels compassion and empathy for humans and animals....but actually does something about it besides running their mouth) Ron: No one CORRECT

2.If you could live anywhere, where would it be? Somewhere very very warm, with very few people and all of my children (Ron) Somewhere warm and sunny CORRECT

3.What is your biggest fear? Losing my husband or children. (Ron) something happening to my kids/family CORRECT

4.What was your favorite family vacation? N. Carolina, time on the beach with my family. (Ron) N. Carolina CORRECT

5.What would you change about yourself if you could? Rid myself of self-doubt and anxiety. I’d be unstoppable! (Ron) To be more extroverted and outgoing. CORRECT

6.What really makes you angry? Oodles of things. People acting like the boys we took into our family, aren’t “real” family, racial discrimination, animal abuse, bullying, gender stereotypes, and religion (Ron) “Oh jez! Incompetent people” WRONG

7.What motivates you to work hard? My family and their success. (Ron) To Help others WRONG.

8.What is your favorite thing about your career? Wanting my patients to feel better about themselves and giving them an improved quality of life. (Ron) Helping people CORRECT

9.Coke or Pepsi? Coke (Ron) coke CORRECT

10.What is your proudest accomplishment? Besides my having family, getting my BJJ black belt. (Ron) being a mother CORRECT

11.When did you meet for the first time? Was it a connection? Friends introduced us at his work, Moyer and Son. Nope, no connection!. (Ron) Moyer and son, I don’t think you spoke to me. no connection CORRECT

12.Favorite TV cartoon growing up as a kid? Scooby Doo. (Ron) I have no idea, I didn’t watch cartoons as a kid, Tom and Jerry? WRONG

13.Who makes you laugh the most? My husband. (Ron) me CORRECT

14.What would you be willing to do for a million dollars? Almost anything as long as my husband was okay with it and it didn’t hurt anything else. (Ron) eat red meat WRONG

15.What did you want to be when you were small? A teacher. (Ron) heavier WRONG

16.Do you want to be buried, Cremated, have your body donated to science or do some kind of eco-friendly burial when you die? The funeral market is a scam and it’s polluting the planet! Eco-friendly method on a green burial site. NO Coffin! (Ron) eco-friendly burial, or some shit like that. CORRECT

17.If you could choose to do anything for a day, what would it be? African Safari. (Ron) nothing WRONG

18.What is your favorite game or sport to watch and play? Brazilian Jiu-jitsu. (Ron) BJJ CORRECT

19.What household chore do you like the least? Cleaning the bathroom. (Ron) cleaning in general WRONG

20.What would you sing at Karaoke night? LOVE LOVE LOVE SINGING! Sinead O’Connor, Nothing Compares To You (and about 100 more songs). (Ron) Beastie Boys, fight for you right to party WRONG

21.What two radio stations do you listen to in the car the most? SiriusXM 100, 101. (Ron) The two Howard Stations CORRECT

22.Which would you rather do: wash dishes, mow the lawn, clean the bathroom, or vacuum the house? Mow the lawn (if it’s hot outside), otherwise vacuum. (Ron) mow CORRECT

23.Favorite color? Yellow. (Ron) black WRONG

24.If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be? salad with lots of stuff in it. (Ron) lobster WRONG

25.How do you feel about adoption? Bring em’ on. Babies of any age! The more the merrier. (Ron) strongly CORRECT

26. Have you ever had a nickname? What is it? Sher (pronounced “Share”). (Ron) Dukers WRONG

27. Do you like or dislike surprises? Why or why not? Hate surprises. I wanna know. (Ron) no, don’t like being center of attention CORRECT

28. In the evening, would you rather play a game, visit a relative, watch a movie, or read? Ummm. Do nothing, so watch a movie I guess. (Ron) movie CORRECT

29. Would you rather vacation in Hawaii or Alaska, and why? Hawaii b/c it’s hot. (Ron) Hawaii b/c it’s warm and has beaches CORRECT

30. Would you rather win the lottery or work at the perfect job? And why? Lottery b/c then I could still work at the “perfect job” as much or little as I wanted. (Ron) work at perfect job, b/c you’d be happy and help people WRONG

31. Who would you want to be stranded with on a deserted island? My husband. (Ron) me CORRECT

32. If money was no object, what would you do all day? Create my utopia, an animal rescue. (Ron) Some kind of crap with animals CORRECT

33. If you could go back in time, what year would you travel to? 1995 (after college). (Ron) 1978 WRONG

34. How would your friends describe you? I’m not sure. Stubborn, strong willed? Sensitive. (Ron) passionate WRONG

35. What are your hobbies? Momming. Jiu-jitsu. Animal stuff. (Ron) teaching bjj and pets CORRECT

36. What is the best gift you have been given? My family. (and my jukebox that breaks all the time). (Ron) children CORRECT

37. What is the worst gift you have received? Anything that has to do with cleaning. (Ron) dryer vent CORRECT

38. Aside from necessities, what one thing could you not go a day without? My animals….esp my dog Mable! (Ron) exercise WRONG

39. List two pet peeves: My husband yelling about my animals, my kids not doing their chores. (Ron) me groping you, bad drivers WRONG

40. Where do you see yourself in five years? Wanting more kids (Ron) here WRONG

41. How many pairs of shoes do you own? idk10?, the same shoes I had 5 years ago (although I’ll replace my sneakers once or twice a year). (Ron) 10 CORRECT

42. If you were a super-hero, what powers would you have? I could be invisible. (Ron) strength WRONG

43. What would you do if you won the lottery? Quit my job and Open an animal sanctuary. (Ron) pay off all debt WRONG

44. Finish things as soon as possible or wait until the last minute? Wait until the last minute. (Ron) wait until the last minute CORRECT

45. What unconscious mannerism do you display if you are upset or uncomfortable in a situation? I become very quiet... (Ron) chew face WRONG

46. If you could go back in time to change one thing, what would it be? How I acted as a teenager. I could be pretty rotten. (Ron) not throwing poop out a window WRONG

47. If you could share a meal with any 4 individuals, living or dead, who would they be? Jim Morrison, Jimmy Hendrix, mommom, and God. (Ron) all your grandparents but especially your mommom Knipe WRONG

48. How do you feel about group vacations with other couples? That sounds awful. (Ron) not happening CORRECT

49. What's the longest you've gone without sleep (and why)? An entire day when I was young, partying all night. (Ron) 24hrs partying CORRECT

50. How Do you handle anger? I bottle it up for a while and get quiet. (Ron) not well, you get quiet CORRECT

51. Would you rather trade intelligence for looks or looks for intelligence? Interesting question! I’m already getting close to hitting the wall with looks….but I also can’t afford to lose any intelligence either. I’d have to trade looks for more intelligence. (Ron) intelligence for looks WRONG

52. How often do you buy clothes? Almost never. (Ron) not often CORRECT

53. Have you ever had a secret admirer? Probably (who hasn’t). It would be secret. (Ron) probably CORRECT

54. What's your favorite holiday? CHRISTMAS! (Ron) Christmas CORRECT

55. What do you drink when you go out for social occasions? Coke (not diet either). (Ron) water or coke CORRECT

56. What was the last thing you recorded on TV? True blood. (Ron) SNL WRONG

57. Do you prefer the live version or studio version of an album? Studio. (Ron) Studio CORRECT

58. What's your favorite type of foreign food? Mexican. (Ron) mexican CORRECT

59. Are you a clean or messy person? Pretty Messy. (Ron) messy CORRECT

60. Who would you want to play you in a movie of your life? Uma Thurman. (Ron) Uma Thurman CORRECT

61. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? 30mins (Ron) 1hr WRONG

62. What kitchen appliance do you use every day? Dishwasher. (Ron) microwave WRONG

63. What's your favorite fast food chain? Taco Bell. (Ron) taco bell CORRECT

64. What's your favorite family recipe or dish? mommoms apple pie. (Ron) Mommoms apple pie CORRECT

65. Do you love or hate rollercoasters? Love. (Ron) Love CORRECT

66. What's your favorite family tradition? Christmas Morning Breakfast at my moms. (Ron) Christmas Eve CORRECT

67. What is your favorite childhood memory? Having baby bunnies with my dad. (Ron) I have no idea WRONG

68. What's your favorite movie? Natural Born Killers (Ron) Pulp fiction WRONG

69. How old were you when you learned Santa wasn't real? How did you find out? Devastating. I wanted to believe forever. I was forced to “not believe” at about 12. My aunt said on Christmas day “You know Santas not real, right?”. Ugh. (Ron) 8, I think your friend Dorene probably told you. WRONG

70. Is your glass half full or half empty? Half empty….just waiting for the other shoe to drop. (Ron) Half empty CORRECT

71. What's the craziest thing you’ve done in the name of love? Dating my husband was risky. (Ron) got married WRONG

72. What is your favorite chip flavor? Salt and vinegar. (Ron) salt and vinegar CORRECT

73. What was your favorite subject in school? Science. (Ron) none WRONG

74. What's the most unusual thing you've ever eaten? I’m not very daring. Seaweed. (Ron) I have no idea, you really don’t care for food WRONG

75. Do you collect anything? Unwanted animals. (Ron) records WRONG

76. Is there anything you wished would come back into fashion? Bell bottoms. (Ron) The 70s WRONG

77. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Introvert. (Ron) Introvert CORRECT

78. Which of the five senses would you say is your strongest? touch. (Ron) You have a nose like a dog WRONG

79. Have you ever had a surprise party? (that was an actual surprise) Nope…and I don’t want one. (Ron) No CORRECT

80. Best quality and worst quality? Best-compassionate/empathetic, Worst-Too compassionate/empathetic to a fault. (Ron) best-caring, worst-caring too much CORRECT

81. What do you do to keep fit? Brazilian Jiu-jitsu but I also just exercise to not be a big lump of (Ron) BJJ and exercise CORRECT

82. Does your family have a “motto” – spoken or unspoken? I say “wrong is wrong, damn it”. (Ron) Never a wrong time to do the right thing never a right time to do the wrong thing WRONG

83. If you were ruler of your own country what would be the first law you would introduce? ALL KINDS OF RULES about limiting the use of animals for consumption. NO FACTORY FARMS! (Ron) NO killing of animals CORRECT

84. Are you a leader or follower? Leader (Ron) leader CORRECT

85. What three things do you think of the most each day? Work, family, how tired I am. (Ron) something happening to my kids, something happening to ron, or me WRONG

86. If you had a warning label, what would yours say? Proceed with caution. (Ron) warning fragile WRONG

87. What song would you say best sums you up? Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd. (Ron) someone left the cake out in the rain, AKA MacArthur Park by Donna Summer WRONG

88. What is your favorite drink? Vanilla Chai Latte. (Ron) water WRONG 89. Who was your first crush? Bo Duke (on Dukes of Hazzard). (Ron) Shaun Cassidy WRONG

90. What's the most interesting thing you can see out of your kitchen window? My chickens. (Ron) chickens CORRECT

91. On a scale of 1-10 how funny would you say you are? 6. (Ron) 8 WRONG

92. Where do you see yourself in 10 years? Working like a dog and getting no where. (Ron) here WRONG

93. What was your first job? Working at an awful pizza shop. (Ron) pizza shop CORRECT

94. If you could join any past or current music group which would you want to join? The Doors. (Ron) The dead WRONG

95. Do you believe in an after life? Yes. (Ron) yes CORRECT

96. You’ll never understand people who do what.....? Fart in front of anyone intentionally. (Ron) hunt WRONG

97. Who would i hate to see naked? Any parental figures. (Ron) parents CORRECT

98. If you had to describe yourself as an animal, which one would it be? Probably a cat. I can be affectionate one minute but turn and walk away b/c you are boring me the next. I don’t like to be told what to do…and I’m not easy to control. “Obedient” isn’t my strong point. (Ron) cat, b/c you can be a loner and snobby (or some might perceive you to be that way). CORRECT

99. What is something that turns you off about another person? If they don’t like animals. (Ron) people who are loud WRONG

100. Who knows you the best? My husband. (Ron) Me CORRECT

The end

#bjj #graciepa #sherihockman #randompersonalfacts #femalebjj #rdbjjinstructor #BrazilianJiuJitsu #thirdgenerationbjj

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ephrampettaline · 5 years

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[ chatzy with @alessafalling, @ephrampettaline, @mayaparker, @rydenbolt, @scarlettxruby, and @thatwhichbindsus ]

A sunken grocery store. Somebody’s first time, another person’s trip back to the town. Six bloods spilled and six bloods combined.

The air had been strange lately, cool and damp like standing by the coal had been. The earth, unforgiving and unwelcoming. Roots weren’t growing, new leaves weren’t budding. There was a corruption slowly settling in like an oil slick over the lake, and Ciara had no idea whether it was that a ley nearby had been drained, or if something more deadly was setting in, or if someone had just cursed her with a sense of malaise. The two gitturns that she’d adopted were settled in the little pouch she’d bought them, so she could keep an eye on them and they could be exposed to the world a little. The vet had said to be careful with them, but that they could cope with this now. Their fur was thickening out and three days ago the white one had opened its eyes. So she took them to the grocery store with her, filled up her trolley with fresh meats for them and fresh veg for her.

Ciara had almost forgotten her ill ease as she idly pet the dark one, when the fluorescent lights of the store went out. Ciara looked up, and saw only dark blue, and looked around as the shelves dissipated into wrought iron stalls, and the bright plastic wrappers of foods vanished, leaving only old, emptied cans. The light was weak and flickering, and the floor creaked and swayed.

Swayed?

There was a layer of water on the floor, slimy and thick, and the floor wasn’t on the ground at all. In fact, there was no ground at all, none for miles. Ciara stepped out of the abandoned, torn up grocery store, and looked up. Up. Up. Glass for a ceiling, with cracks. Above it, at first she thought was the night sky, until a shadow passed overhead, large, long, with a strong tail. A whale. Ciara looked to the side and there were windows there too, and beyond them kelp growing in all directions, illuminated by the light of a dozen underwater skyscrapers. In the windows, she could see shadows moving.

Maya wasn't having a great time. Sleep had pretty well escaped her for the last few nights. Between the mysterious warning that she hadn't quite managed to scrub out of her skin and the couple of things she was already trying to stay on top of, she felt the stress weighting heavily on her shoulders. But she still had to go about her day. Today found her in the grocery store, buying her things for the week. A few more comfort foods than usual were in her cart. She stopped in the middle of the aisle as something strange started to happen. "What the fuck?" Maya asked herself as a layer of water soaked the floor and her shoes. She looked around to see that was not the only thing that had changed. "Is this what you meant by they're coming?" she shouted to no one in particular, "Because I think you could've been a bit more specific."

“Maya?” Ciara called as she spun, reaching into some new, empty ley she could just about feel. Just in case it wasn’t Maya. “Who’s coming?” The little gitturns tittered and trembled against her hand, and Ciara pulled their pouch closer, just in case. Just in case. She was already breathing a little faster, this canned air that didn’t move or didn’t cycle, just creaked. She spotted the other witch with some small relief. Someone to survive this new hell with. Which was good. Someone was coming from a distant tunnel, their feet splashing in water puddles, and their giggles echoing off iron walls. “Can you fight? If we have to?”

Maya turned as she heard someone call her name. "They," she called back, "Because apparently being fucking specific isn't cool anymore." She saw Ciara just after the other witch saw her. Despite not knowing Ciara well, Maya breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wasn't completely alone. She nodded, "Yeah, I can fight." After a pause she added, "Course I was sort of hoping I wouldn't have to on my trip to the grocery store."

Ephram had been ranging around the town nonstop since the rat king at the decrepit bakery, and then the octo-beast at the dilapidated bowling alley. He found that after having encountered Essie's dust and so much of the mold in the course of duty, and then those two ugly versions of Soapberry places, he could feel his magic itching through him to lead him towards new pocket-worlds that were opening. So the grocery had been his new destination -- but even expecting something bizarre to happen didn't prepare him for being suddenly in an underwater abanadoned supermarket. The familiar voices, at least, were something that held constant. "I'm here too," Ephram called, hefting the golf bag he'd replenished after the bowling alley incident. "Is it only you two so far?" he asked Ciara and Maya, trotting up to stop next to them.

“Did you get a message about th- oh, the mould?” Ciara guessed, although she truly had no idea. “Likewise, but I guess we can’t trust this town at all. Hopefully we just have to find a way out... of here.” It was creaking again. Had Ciara mentioned she hated the creaking? “Ephram? There’s a ley here, you should connect to it,” she said, slipping into a teacher role where she hadn’t for Maya. “Just us. But someone’s coming.”

Ruby had been at the other end of the shopping center - having just finished up taking the statements of a naga couple that had just come from some mad max death race pocket, but seemed to be mostly alright now - and was headed into the store to grab something for lunch when things started to change. At first she thought she was imagining it. The doors slid shut behind her with their usual hissing sound, and she moved to grab a small basket when it cracked beneath her grip, dryrotted. Which was unusual considering the layer of water beneath her boots. She huffed a sharp breath through her nose, spinning around to face the glass doors of the store as the air suddenly became... less. It was tighter, more metallic. And the saltwater ooze of everything else made her cover her nose. "What the fuck..."

The Splicer giggled. “I can heaaaar you. Little rats digging through scraps, but they’re all gone, all gone now!” His sing song voice echoed in the large chambers, although he hardly had enough sentience left to consider himself a he. “You’ll make a fine roast and I can smell the good stuff on you. It’s mine, you hear me? MINE! Ohohoh Im going to be sooo happy when I find you!”

Ephram shook his head when Ciara mentioned a ley line. "From what I seen of these black mold creepy places, I don't reckon I'd wanna try connecting to anythang here," he said, looking around and stepping a little closer to a shelf at the thought of all the water pressure outside of the market. "Do youn's have your magic? Mine works okay. Works fair good against them beasties that seem to be lurking--" He stopped talking when The Splicer's voice started up, echoing even more unsettlingly because of the water surrounding them, and set the golf bag down between them. "By the way? I got weapons."

Maya nodded, "Yeah, I did. Sorry, I got a bit...distracted by some other stuff." She turned again as someone else approached. Her shoulders tensed, ready for a fight if it came to that. She relaxed a little when she realized it was only Ephram. She nodded in agreement with Ciara. "Yeah, just the three of us..." she was about to add so far when two voices interrupted. The first was one she recognized. Ruby. she thought. The second was decidedly foreign. "Yeah, um my dude I am super not delicious. Meat's way too tough on this one," she shouted, fully knowing that it would help whoever that was find them.

What was it with these fucking underwater scenarios?? If Ruby was afraid of one real-world thing, it was being trapped underwater and drowning. The voice that came next raised the hair on the back of Ruby's neck. A low growl rolled in her chest. She didn't know the others were there yet, so she didn't know the message was meant for all of them. It temporarily pushed fear of the water from her head. "You might rethink that once you do." She said of being found.

Though the slight tremor in her voice said otherwise.

”Ooh, a player!” The splicer replied, spinning to the sound of Ruby’s voice, sprinting in her direction with a loose limbed ferocity. The hunt was on, and the splicer was so, so hungry. Everyone walking around here was an empty husk, but not her, not her! “Lay down your bets because you’re going to be mineeee!” He spotted her, pale and dark haired and pretty as a picture, and oh, he was going to fix that.

Essie knew the feeling as soon as she landed in one of these other pocket worlds. Her third one she hunkers down for a moment. Voices down a tunnel to her right, and one echoing over everything. Not wanting to be alone she hopes with all her might the people down to her right were people she knew, or at the very least friendly. She runs down the tunnel and finds a crowd of people, almost running right into the back of Maya. Her hands reaching out to steady herself. Eyes shifting over the crowd she spotted Ephram and his golf bag. What a life she lead that a golf bag was what comforted her the most.

Ephram spotted Essie and jerked his golf bag in her direction. "You still got your rifle?" he asked hopefully. "I mean I brought a couple this time but you should really start jes ... wearin' your rifle around town. God knows I'm strapped all the time now my own self." Hip holsters, shoulder holster, and the baseball bat he favoured.

"Wait," Maya said to Ephram, "You got another gun. I got my safety training when I was fifteen." She could hear the creature sprinting after someone else trapped in the grocery store. And she was pretty sure it was Ruby. Even now though she wasn't stupid enough to go after it emptyhanded.

The voice came again, and there was movement to accompany it. Ruby turned to see ... something... sprinting all long limbs and manic speed towards her. She knew better than to run. She /wouldn't/ run. Even if she had no idea what would happen if it caught her. But Ruby had her pistol, and the katana Dani had given her (that she'd also started carrying since all this shit started going down). There was no way she was risking a stray bullet with all this glass. Heart beating out of her chest, she pulled the sword from it's charmed sheath across her back - made to look smaller than it was - and when the creature was close enough, she let the blade arch towards it, spinning to the side as she aimed for something vital.

Ephram hauled one of the rifles out of his bag and handed it to Maya, passing her a fanny pack of ammo along with it. "Sorry bout the thing," he said, gesturing at the Glee fanny pack. "Was all I had handy when I was kitting out this here golf bag."

“Suit yourself,” Ciara replied to Ephram with a shrug, although in the back of her mind, she thought that she could have used a battery. “Why do you have weapons? Did you come to the grocery store for a fight?” The white gitturn then decided to jump out of its pouch, and scrabbled up Ciara’s sleeve to her neck with a strength she didn’t know these babies had, and snarled at the hall before burying itself in her hair. And then there were four of them. “Wait, no guns. Do you want to drown?”

Essie nodded digging in the pocket of the golf bag she remembered the ammunition being in. "Had to start carrying it after my second trip into these places." she admits. "Not that I had any ammo, just hoped the sight would distract something. Relying much more on dust." Her head bouncing up to look at the unfamiliar woman in the group then at Ephram, much more likely to listen to her boss than anyone else.

Maya took the gun from Ephram and the fanny pack too. It took her a second to even realize what he was even apologizing for. "Honestly, like, whatever. Ammo's ammo." With that, she ignored the subtle loyalty dynamics and headed towards the sound of the creature and possible a sword. She skidded to a halt at the end of the aisle and raised the weapon, ready to fire.

Ephram gave Ciara a considering look when she objected to the guns. "Reckon the survival situation at the moment calls for whatever weapons we got handy," he said coolly, all traces of his more obedient student persona gone. "Don't worry. I'm sure them other two are good shots." The implication, of course, being that there was no chance at /all/ that Ephram himself might cause a stray bullet to shatter the glass. He looked in the direction that Maya had headed off. "Was she tryin' to call that talkin' beast down on somebody just now?"

The Splicer: She wasn’t scared. How charming, it would leave her all tender inside nice and gooey and juices and precoated in salt and sass already. What a treat! The splicer charged without abandon, swing a wrench he had found in his best friend’s head (or maybe he had left it there, he was oh so forgetful, wasn’t it charming?). And then she sliced right through his arm, and it flopped on the floor for a second, up and down, like a fish gasping for air. “That wasn’t very nice, play fair and die already!” He sang, and leapt again.

As the creature popped back up, Maya fired. It was an easy shot, all things considered. Only after she fired though did Ciara's words fully sink in. /Did they want to drown?" They were underwater. She made a mental note of that so that she would be careful with any shots she made next.

Essie considers their surroundings and the fact she can't swim. She didn't trust her shot as much as the other two did, watching Maya charge recklessly away from the pack she reconsiders. She doesn't discard the rifle, simply swings it behind her onto her back. Dust had been here only hope the last time, so she figured why mess with it. She'd figured out exactly how useful her limited Glamour could be. The shot from down the tunnel had Essie turn and brace herself.

Oh, Ruby was scared all right. Terrified. But she wasn't about to get eaten by some fucking monster movie reject. So when the sword met heavy, wet flesh, followed by the spray of dark, thick blood and an equally wet, fleshy flopping sound, Ruby knew she'd made a hit. When the gunshot rang out as the creature righted itself, Ruby flinched, not expecting it. She spun, momentarily distracted, to see Maya standing there with a gun. "No fucking bullets!! We'll drown!" she yelled. But that was all she could say before the creature was screeching at her again and launching itself in the air. It was fast. And close. Ruby swung again, but she misjudged the distance and was sent sprawling through water, blood-soaked mess on the floor. She shoved a hand against the creatures' throat while the other scrabbled for the sword that had slid somewhere into the dark. "Fuck... off!" she grunted, giving up on the sword and swinging at the creature's jaw.

Ciara didn’t even raise an eyebrow as Maya and Essie deferred to Ephram, because he was he sherif and authority and all that and whatever, but she did at Ephram, sinking back into a cool, cruel persona that had served her all too well on a different battlefield. The gitturn by her ear tittered, staring at Ephram too. But then Maya was off, chasing a shadow, a half being at this point, barely a man at all. His skin was so pale it was nearly translucent, starved of sunlight here and ashy, so much his skin almost had a blue tinge to it. It bled, but it had no heartbeat, not one that one could survive on. Maybe she’d just leave it to the sherif, but a gun fired and Ciara didn’t doubt that Maya was a better shot than Ciara herself, except it echoed like a bullwhip, all the way up and down the tunnels and this hallowed hall. And when everything finished ringing, there were more voices. Giggles and yells and cries and screams. A figure appeared at the bottom of the hall. Ciara tore its throat out.

Magic, good or bad sort, worked within a certain spectrum of rules. Crazy, mostly unfair, seemingly unpredictable and somewhat bendable but still rules you could single out, analyze and utilize the way you see fit or the way whatever personal limits allow you to. There are very few exceptions to that. But once in a lifetime, there comes an agonizingly stubborn knucklehead whose persistence to butt into things he had no business, knowledge or brains enough to deal with that rules just take one good, scrutinizing glance at him and say fuck it, we give up. Give him a complimentary bag of peanuts and a one-way ticket to doomed as fuck then send him on his way, cause that's where he's headin' and there's no stopping him.

Ryden's one way ticket had been for a month-long surf-around through places a less magically equipped supernatural should not step into. Well, the time-space parallel dimensions spin-dry he's been through told him it's been a couple of hours, not a month. He'll figure it out by piles of dust piled on top of old piles of dust he never cleaned on his floor in Rein's house. Right now, it felt like a couple of hours of beating through a beehive of abominations too ugly to love even if you were their momma. He was dragging one behind him by one of it's seven legs, two of which he'd pulled out himself, when the terrifying, toasty hell-like mood of the pocket universe he last rolled through turned into something Aquaman might call his secret, creepy hideout where he sometimes jacks off. "Fuck me runnin'..." He muttered, letting go of the creature he'd savagely murdered for threatening to do even worse things to him, and rounder a corner, not even trying to get the gooey, slimy liquid those things had instead of blood off himself. He was already drenched with it beyond spitting on your thumb and rubbing it off. By the commotion he was hearing ahead, he was pretty sure more nasty things awaited him.

Not even registering what it was assaulting nor what it was exactly, Ryden approached the creature ahead of him, while it was unaware in its attempts to feed on very possibly someone who'd been thrust in here by chance just like he was. A large hand grabbed at its bald scull, digging into brittle bone and ash-grey skin. He picked it up easily and tossed it aside like a rag, off Ruby and a good few feet away from the group..

The Splicer laughed and laughed and laughed and he scrabbled for her, scratching her, gouging her, trying to bite her. He - It - writhed against her hand, struggling, squirming, too keen and too hungry to care as the life was squeezing out of him. But then something tore through him, hot and cold as liquid nitrogen. He fell, turned, faced the girl that had shot at him. “Ooooh eeh heee her. I likes you! You’re a cheater! Dirty filthy little cheater! You’re going to pay for it, that’s right, but-“ and then he died, because Maya was indeed a good shot.

Maya heard the giggling down the hallway. "Okay, no guns," she finally agreed. She picked up the nearest thing off the shelf, a can of beans and got ready to throw it. Luckily, it seemed to slump over less than a second before Ryden appeared and tossed it aside like a rag doll. She had to grin at him "Ryden," she said in little more than an exhale. She turned to the others, "I think we've got more company. Sorry about that."

Ephram returned Ciara's look for a moment, his own eyes narrowing slightly before he gave a terse nod and drew his revolvers. She pulled the throat out from one of the new throng of creatures between one breath and the other, and Ephram banged together the bases of his revolver grips, silver-green magic spiking through them into the barrels. He stayed with Ciara and her gitturn -- the little creature still watching him suspiciously from behind her hair -- and shot at the emerging creatures with their sick giggles, bullets of spinning green magic that unerringly found their targets. "You dropped into any of these weirdsmobile realities yet or is this your first?" he shouted to Ciara over the increasing din. "That's why I been carryin' round them weapons. They keep poppin' up all over town."

Ruby could feel the deep rends in her flesh where the creature gouged her open. Her blood mixed with the rest of the mess on the floor, steaming hot as it ran from her wounds. She dug her fingers into the soft flesh of the creatures neck, squeezing until she heard cartilage pop and break and grind, and then it just... stopped. It was gone, and Ruby could breath. She lay there for a brief second, grimacing at the deep rends in her shoulder and stomach, before seeing Ryden standing over her. "God save the fucking Queen am I glad to see you," she told him as she pushed to her feet.

"Maya? The fuck ya doin' 'ere?" She was someone he'd least expected here. Or anywhere. Looking beyond her, he saw more faces he could recognize. "What's going on?" Looking down, he saw that the person creature was trying to nibble on was actually Ruby. "Shit, you a'ight?" He reached down to pull her up, knowing that her werewolf healing would take care of the rest. Ahead, he glanced at the rush of staggering, giggling monstrosities advancing forth at them. "Can't it just, like, for once, be a land of sparkles, polite leprechauns and unicorns? Naw?"

Retrieving her sword and wiping the gore off on her jeans - not that it did much good - after Ryden helped her up, Ruby rolled her shoulder as it slowly started to heal. "Yeah. You know me. I can take a punch," she said to her friend. "You good?" She looked at Maya and asked the same thing. But then the sounds came, and Ruby's attention turned with the rest. "Always another fucking shit show..." Ruby moved with the others next to Ephram and Ciara, unsure if she should fire her gun or not. She was a good shot, but her bullets weren't spelled like Ephram's. She could miss and then... well, they'd drown.

"I needed groceries?," Maya replied. She looked back towards the others as far as an answer for what was going on. She had an ominous warning. One that was getting clearer by the minute, but didn't yet explain all this. She turned back when she heard Ryden asking Ruby if she was okay. It was a question she wanted to hear the answer to. "Not to be a complete asshole by the way," she added mostly to Ruby, "But I am like 85% sure I actually killed it, so that God save the Queen should be directed at me." She was about to answer Ruby's other question when the rest of their company's arrival drew her attention.

“Six of us, three entries. Let’s stay close.” Ciara ignored Maya’s apology, focused on nothing but the creaking floor and the creatures headed their way. “First,” was all she said to Ephram, as the gitturn chirped and drew her attention to her left, shattering a heart there. The nausea was coming back - Ephram was right about these Leys. The world was shrinking down to a fight, a need to win, and damn the consequences to her soul as she stained the water they were standing in red, dropping four bodies in quick concession. It didn’t matter. Again. There were dozens.

"Yeah but the point is to NOT let 'um punch ya. Yer just a bag for it then." Ryden snorted, stepping up with Ruby. "Where'd ya get the fuckin' kitchen knife ya got there? In an anime?" Raising an eyebrow at Maya, he couldn't skip on a challenge to be the better one even when it was pointless. "Ya squirted a metal ball at it. I bashed its brains in. Let's do the autopsy later. I'll give ya a cookie if it's your kill." Looking back at Ephram's gun out and aimed he cringed. "Should we have guns out here? Anyone smart enough to consider that's maybe a no, cause..." He waved his hand in a general direction of... everywhere.

Essie balled her fists from her spot beside Ephram. She wasn't as good a shot as the others but she could do her best to be useful. She threw a handful of dust towards an open tunnel entrance the dust caught fire at her glamour and she looks back at the others. "Can we maybe fight about kills LATER."

Ephram glanced down at the reddening pool at their feet, leaning hard into Ciara so he could mutter closely in her ear, "--I'm in good shape right now and me and Essie got healing abilities that work in these places. If you need blood that ain't fucked up like I'm guessin' is in these critters, you don't need to ask." But Ciara knew her own magic, so Ephram felt he only needed to make the offer once. He took note of Ruby and Ryden returning with Maya, not bothering to address the question of his guns and instead saying, "these fuckers seem a sight smarter'n the monsters Essie and me faced off in them other pocket worlds. Seems to me it might be best for us to split and stopper up wherever they might be streamin' in here from, unless we wanna end up as the cheese in the worst fuckin' game of Farmer in the Dell ever."

"True," Ruby said to Ryden. "And I'll tell ya later," she said of the sword. She managed a tiny smirk - which was more a grimace - towards Maya, but the crowd of creatures in the hallway was growing, and while Ephram and Ciara were making a dent, it was refilling over and over. One made it past, screeching and lurching towards them. Ruby took it's head off with her sword. Another broke through, fell in the water, and she crushed it's skull beneath her boot. "We're runnin' out of opttions," she said to everyone else. "Is there a way outta here?"

"How 'bout I stay back here and out of ya'lls way and fight o'er YER kills t'pass time cause it looks to me like yer all handlin' it well." Ryden said, as the advancing mob of zombies wobbled their way at them. He leaned against a glass wall, right over one of the cracks spreading like spiderweb over them. He was tired and he had somewhat figured out how this pocket world travel works here. Which means that they might get spit out somewhere else anytime now. If they didn't, he was ready, tired from his own previous quest as he was.

"I hope you mean the kind of cookie I think you mean," Maya shot back at Ryden with a shit eating grin. She turned though to look at all the new arrivals. There were too many. The water around their feet was already red with blood. She dropped the rifle in her hands. A second later, it landed with a dull splash. "Fuck," she muttered. She shook her head. "I'm out guys. I can make sure you all get out, but I'm fucking done," she confessed. It was like a switch turning off, something she couldn't explain.

Essie stared at them incredulously. "You're just done? Shit is trying to fucking eat us." she couldn't believe it. Throwing another handful of dust, this time onto an oncoming figure to then burst into flame.

Ruby glanced at Maya as she dropped the rifle. She didn't know if one could actually die in these places, but Ruby wasn't about to take that chance. "Get her," Ruby said to Ryden before turning back to the oncoming hoarde. "Split up where?" she asked Ephram. "If I shift, I might be able to lure most of them down another way...."

Ephram was embroiled in shooting at creatures who were crawling and scrabbling and leaping towards them, but Essie's comment made him guffaw out loud anyhow.

Ephram said to Ruby's idea, "Take Ryden with you. I dunno how much help Maya's gonna be, maybe leave her here for Essie to sort out." He wasn't sure what was up with Maya once she dropped the gun and started talking about making sure they'd all get out, but it didn't sound like she was coping well, whatever it was.

Not batting an eyelash when Ruby pointed out Maya's distress, he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back. "Stay behind me, cupcake, and hold that cookie I promised." There was no way Ryden would willingly move himself up front where he'd be most effective for anyone, because he'd easily be in line of Ephram and Ciara's fire and the wicked fairy dust fireballs Esse was throwing. But for Maya and her safety, he was willing to risk friendly fire. "Fuck that, we ain't splittin' up. You even watch horror?" With sickening crack of bones and muscle, Ryden was doing that neat little werewolf party trick unique to him - muscles in his arms bulged and sharp claws sprouted out of his fingertips. He now had a jaw full of too many teeth for a human. He stepped out of the front line of shooters with a leap, claws aiming and shredding at random but efficiently.

“If it comes down to it, I won’t ask,” Ciara replied quietly. If it came to it, it would just be like the first time they had met. She’d sacrifice him at her altar with only barely a second thought. “Stopper them, then drown them. Some of the doors hermetically seal. Like a sub.” Her gaze flicked to Maya, and saw the deadness Ciara felt already.

Ephram lifted his guns as Ryden leapt in front of them, growling in aggravation, "I'm watchin' a fuckin' horror right now! Get the fuck out my way, Bolt!" But it was pretty damn obvious that wasn't going to happen, so Ephram swore a blue streak and told Ciara, "Fine, but watch my back and make sure these un's don't git shredded." The way that Ryden was dealing with the creeping pale people ahead of them. So Ephram used it to his advantage: with Ryden flinging ribbons of meat and blood, Ephram dodged and darted behind him as if the wolf was an ambulance, the two of them steadily making their way to one of the door seams where -- hopefully -- there'd be some sort of mechanism to seal the place.

Maya stumbled as Ryden pulled her backwards. "No" she started to argue. It didn't matter. Didn't they all understand it didn't matter? She swallowed a shout as Ryden jumped in front of everyone. Her heart thudded in her chest. There was a moment as she looked around at everyone else where something like life flickered in her eyes. It was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. They were still fighting. They were going to get hurt and all for nothing. With dead eyes, Maya picked up the rifle again. It was almost robotic the way she fired. Each shot hit with almost perfect precision as Ryden and Ephram advanced. But it wasn't Maya anymore, not really. It was a version of her that knew only how to survive. The moment the threat was no longer imminent, it would crumble like dust.

Essie had stopper and drown repeating in her head. She could potentially blow a bigger hole than a bullet hole with her dust she'd just need to be at the front when they found doors that could close. Not that the idea enticed her any. But she voiced this to anyone who could hear her as she followed down the tube, walking backwards to keep an eye behind them. "I can firecracker my dust, blow a hole when you get the doors closing."

Ryden was practically tossing the creatures out of the way, his breaking through forceful, messy and stomach-churning, elbows-deep into dead bodies and their insides, ripping limbs, organs and skin with bare, clawed hands. What he missed, others would easily take down as they drew closer to what might be their salvation.

Ruby wasn't keen on leaving Maya behind for her to 'maybe' be sorted out. So when Ryden pulled their shell shocked friend behind him, Ruby let out a breath. She knew Ryden would keep Maya safe above everything else. But that meant she couldn't be a decoy. So as Ryden did his shifting trick, Ruby heard Ciara over the din. "How do we get the doors to work?" Ruby asked. "If we kill enough of them, they'll block themselves in. At least for a bit."

But then Ephram was already moving in behind Ryden, headed that way. That left Ruby and Ciara and Essie. Ruby's shoulder was starting to ache fiercely, her swings growing weaker. She needed to shift so she could heal, if nothing else. Or she was a liability. Trusting that she would retain enough of her human mind with a voluntary shift, Ruby shoved her sword into the duffel bag that lay nearby, striipping her boots and clothes in quick succession before she let the wolf have her. Bones cracked and limbs lengthened, dark hair turned white and blue eyes bled crimson until a huge white wolf had taken her place. It shook itself, still covered in the same blood as Ruby, and lifted it's nose into the air. She could smell The Other ahead of her, and more that were familiar. It didn't take long for her jaws to find flesh. One great shake and a spine snapped before being tossed aside.

Ephram heard the familiar flap of fairy wings behind him and Ryden, and when Essie voiced her plan he was intensely glad that she /had/ followed them. "Git ready, then," he barked back at her, to be heard through the schripping of Ryden's claws and the screams of the creatures. "Build up enough dust so's you can blow a hole big enough for a goddamn hearse to drive through, and I'll take care of findin' the sealing mechanism." Because she was right; his bullets were good against the creatures, but the kind of hole they'd need to blow required dust and plenty of it.

Maya twisted as something caught her shoulder. She didn't go down though. Instead, she used its own momentum against it. In complete survival mode, she found its head and yanked. A sickening snap echoed in her ears. She scrambled again to her feet, blood dripping from her shoulder. She glanced up at Essie and nodded. Whatever the fairy needed her to do to help, she was ready.

Essie spares a hand, reaching out and touching Mayas shoulder with just a hint of healing, she couldn't spare much but a little was worth something at least. But she lets her wings lift her up off the ground, concentrating on generating a mass of dust rather than focusing on not tripping over the carnage on the ground. She might not be taking anything dangerous out while they moved, but she was trying her best to provide as much use as she could.

They were reaching the door that was Ryden’s goal. Kind of like one of those round, hermetically sealed submarine passages. Ryden had tossed one of the zombified creatures right at it, where it was full-body slammed and had its spine broken. Ryden reached those doors right after it but there would be no good in breaking the hatch, which he could definitely do - they needed it closed after. "Little help 'ere??" He asked, speech impaired by the Cheshire grin of sharp teeth and protruding canines.

The wolf-Ruby pushed forwards when needed, pulling back when necessary only to surge towards the monsters again when there was an opening. The corridor was quicklly filling up, and anything not dead from Ryden's hands or otherwise, she crushed it's skull with her teeth, making sure it didnt' move again. Her muzzle and chest and legs were stained red with gore, but Ruby kept going with the others. Biting and crushing and smashing her way through.

A fighter, a healer, a maker, a leader, and... Wasn’t Ruby human?? Not anymore, it seemed, but it would still work, an idea in Ciara’s mind. They needed the door closed. They needed to reach the door. The floor was slick and slippy and covered in corpses - each time they killed they made their own progression harder. They were under the sea. Sea with currents and waves and movement, and blood had that all too. She had the consent of two. That would have to do.

In six people at once, the back of their wrists split open, spilling blood into midair that flowed into Ciara’s hands like a current, flowing and twisting and pumping, a six fold circulatory system. Magic like this had a cost, and they would just have to find out what that was. Once they’d survived. The blood curled into crystals And then into one. Ciara twisted the threads of ley magic into a whole new shape, instinct and confidence pouring into one, something new and something old, and something that would have to do. Ciara carved it and sculpted it like wood on her bench, like clay, like ice, and found a word that suited. She dropped the crystal to the ground, and spoke.

“Clot.”

All that bloody water surged around her, up, up, up, like a wave, and left those that she wanted untouched - the blood she had taken from them made each immune to her spell. The water pulsed and pumped, and picked up each body in turn, splicer and dead alike. Except it wasn’t picking them up - they were becoming part of the wave, like blood pouring out of a split artery and picking part of the pulsing, pumping mass. It was imperfect - all new spells were - too many had been left unscathed as well, confused if not for long. But others were gluing up behind the door, struggling. They were platelets to a wound, and now they were sealing, like a scab. The ley was quickly draining, and so was her connection to it. This would not last.

Maya stood for half a second in awe. The thought of pain in her wrist didn't occur to her. But she knew magic. It shook her out of awe quickly. "The door!" she shouted, "Someone hit the door." But she was holding a gun. Even as she said it, Maya raised the rifle and aimed. She fired into the door's control panel in a very Han Solo move. It crackled and fizzled before sliding closed. Maya dropped the rifle again, breathing heavily.

Ciara didn’t see the door close. One dozen, two dozen of them left, at least one was making its way over to her. Ciara raised a hand to do something, and instead... dropped to the floor, as two gitturns squeaked.

Ephram had been half-expecting Ciara to dip into her blood magic, but he hadn't for a moment thought it would look like this. Bodies and not-quite-corpses being picked up and dancing like puppets in a pusing wave to clot and seal up the entranceway that he, Ryden, and Essie had been making their ways towards, and Ruby too, from the sound of it. But before they could reach and put their plan into action, there was a rifle shot from behind them. The panel exploded and the door shut, and that was that. Problem solved.

Ciara, though, collapsed into the bleeding water below her feet, so Ephram turned his attention from where it was no longer required and ran back to the witch, dropping down to pull her from the filthy puddle. The gitterns chittered, angry or scared or both.

"C'mon, git the gross blood lady up and git in. Go go go GO!" Ryden hurried them along, having pulled the door open after Maya shot at the panel.

Essie yelped in pain at the cut on the back of her wrist forming, tears in her eyes involuntarily at the pain. Maya raised her gun to shoot and Essie -who'd almost dropped her growing ball of dust- lurched forward in a moment of panic but the door was closed too quickly. So much for drowning them. She turns her attention to something else she could potentially do with it. "A healing touch?" she offers unsure whether it would do any good running to the unknown womans side.

Maya nodded towards Ryden. They should get out of here while they still could. She half turned to Essie at her offer, "Ciara." She nodded towards Ciara for Essie's benefit before she looked for Ruby. She needed to make sure that the wolf got out with them safely. She wiped her face, finding it wet with saltwater.

Ruby barely felt the slice in her own leg/wrist as Ciara worked her spell. All she knew was that the air hummed with blood and magic and gore. The wolf knew what magic felt like, when it was dangerous and malintended, but other than that, she knew only that whatever the blood witch had done, it seemed to have worked. The other were further up the tunnel than her, so Ruby turned back when the door shut under the rifle blast. She saw the witch collapse, saw Ephram run over, and saw the lurch of another creature nearby by.

Growling and snapping, Ruby leapt at the creature, who screamed and railed at her, clawing and biting before Ruby could close her jaws around its slick flesh. There was a sickening crunch, and the creature went limp. Ruby shook her head, tearing thecreatures throat out for good measure. She turned to the others as Ryden called out, lingering in the back but following close as the others moved ahead. She didn't want to be left behind.

Ruby wuffled at the nearly unconscious witch as Ephram dragged her up, giving the chattering furries a passive glance but not caring enough about them to linger. ~GO.~ she thought to the others. ~GO NOW. They are coming.~

Ephram made sure to scoop the little gitturns up, not at the moment caring if they bit him or whatever; into his rescued golf bag they went, as he toted it and Ciara down the passageway. "If this is anythang like them other fucked-up mold places," he huffed as they hustled, "now that we squashed a bunch of them monsters it's like that we's gonna--" And that was as far as he got, this time. Suddenly, Ephram ran himself, Ciara, the gitturns, and his golf bag full of weapons into a stacked display of yum-yum pickles, knocking everything over in a resounding and vinegary crash over the floor of the regular world version of the supermarket.

Essie watched the sheriff vanish as he had done before and gave a firm nod. She'd seen this before. "Some of us are gonna vanish outta nowhe-" and there she went. That tugging in her gut and she overbalanced and landed on her ass in a pile of pickles. Blinking in the new electronic lighting of the market she looks shakes her head, getting up quick. She needed to get home ...covered head to tow in guts /again/.

#plot:the blight #violence cw #blood cw #alessafalling #mayaparker #rydenbolt #scarlettxruby #thatwhichbindsus

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monigheandonn1743 · 6 years

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The Diary

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Wednesday 4th January 1747

My enthralment with the snow has ended, and I now find myself in utter despair at the catastrophe it has wrought. How can something that is so beautiful, so peaceful, and joyous, in turn cause such heartache and devastation?

Has God not punished us enough?

Are those of us that were not slain in battle, or shot for treason, now destined to die of starvation?

In the blink of an eye our continued existence in the highlands has become all but impossible. There is no earthly way that we can survive here. William has suggested that we leave, and I’ll admit to considering that option myself, but where would we go?

I do not know what has become of him, and I am not ashamed to admit that I hope that he was lost at Culloden. But if he lives still, then leaving Lallybroch will only increase my risk of discovery.

Besides, what of my new family? No highlander would be welcomed in the lowlands or beyond, and there are no ships available to carry us across the ocean to safety.

There will be none until the spring, and I fear that then it will be too late.

The hidden provisions, the ones removed from the reach of the redcoats, the preserves we were so reliant on, have gone. They were destroyed in the blizzard, when the weight of the snow became too much for the hastily built shelter.

We are at a loss of what to do.

I am at a loss.

Thursday 12th January 1747

Janet and I have completed our store inventory and as a result, William has left to hunt. With so many mouths to feed, even on strict rations, we have only enough food to see us though to the middle of March.

Should the garrison call for further supplies, I fear we shall perish long before then. Unfortunately, with Lord Lovat still at large, it is highly likely that they will.

We have seen neither hide nor hair of the old fox, thank the Lord, but his actions have brought suspicion down on the whole clan; William in particular, and until he is captured I can see no end to their harassment.

Tuesday 17th January 1747

Venison and onion stew has never tasted so good.

I shall dream of it this night I am sure.

Saturday 21st January 1747

I am overjoyed!

In the early hours of this morning, we welcomed Margaret Ellen Claire Fraser Murray to the world. It is such a big name for such a tiny girl, but I have no doubt that she will grow into it.

She is the complete image of her beautiful mother. With jet black hair, a small nose, and delicately pursed lips. Yet she carries her fathers dark soulful eyes.

Janet is well and recovering quietly with both of her children by her side. As would be expected, her happiness is unparalleled, yet tinged with the sorrow that young Maggie will never know her wonderful father.

I know that Ian will be watching over them from heaven, and will be almost bursting with pride for his wife and new daughter. As well he should, for Janet has done him proud.

Thursday 9th February 1747

Mrs Crook has injured herself again. She neigh on sliced her finger off while attempting to skin a rabbit. I have stitched it as best I can, but…

…As I feared, the redcoats have once again come to Lallybroch and I am truly terrified at what I may find upon my return. We have next to nothing left, but I pray to God that William will hold his temper and allows them to take what they will. Unfortunately I know the man well, and I expect that he will not.

I can barely breathe with worry.

Oh, that I could be there to at least see what is happening, but with the provision hole exposed, there was nowhere for me to hide. So, I now write by dim candlelight, in the icy confines of the cave on the north side of the estate.

As young Rabbie MacNab ferreted me away though the shadows with naught but a candle, my shawl and diary, he assured me that he was not amongst them. But I am known to many, and I have been made aware that the reward for my recovery is still in place.

Does this mean that he lives? Or are his family still willing to pay for my capture?

I do not know, and I do not wish to find out.

William has written to his cousin in France, requesting passage on the next ship to sail from Inverness to the Colonies. I do not know if life in those far distant lands will be better then here, but one can hope and pray that it will be.

Saturday 11th February 1747

After spending the night in the cave, I returned yesterday to find that William had taken sick. Overnight he has gone from a strong, robust man, to one who seems alarming frail.

I am doing what I can to stem his fever, but he still burns hot, and has spent the past hours plagued by tremors and night-terrors.

Mary sits beside him now, tending to his care while I attempt rest and Janet tends to the children. But I have requested that she fetch me if he worsens, for I know I shall not sleep.

I truly fear for him, and I pray that his fever breaks soon.

Wednesday 22nd February 1747

Like dominos, one person after the next has been overcome by the sickness that had stricken William. First it was Mary, then Janet, Mrs Crook, wee Jamie and young Rabbie.

Save for the latter, thankfully within a day or so the crippling fever released each of its victims from it grasp. Although weakened by the illness, and coughing terribly, all are recovering, slowly but surely.

Young Rabbie has had it worse then anyone and it breaks my heart to say that he now fights for his life in the room next to mine. I have never felt so helpless before, I long to go to him, to do what I can and take some of the burden from his mother, but I cannot.

My head pounds, my throat scratches and I can barely stand with weakness. I know the fever is coming, for my skin burns, my mind feels foggy and my thoughts disjointed.

Pray God see me though this.

Wednesday 1st March 1747

We have lost young Rabbie.

Those words pain me so greatly that I can scarce breathe. The dear boy fought to the last, but with so little food he had no strength left to beat the illness. Mary’s grief is profound, and she has left Lallybroch and returned to the village to mourn within the bosom of her family.

The estate is silent.

It is as though young Rabbie has taken with him the last shred hope we had, and we have been left bleak and desolate.

We have nothing.

It is hopeless. It is all just so hopeless.

Tuesday 7th March 1747

William has gone raiding and I once again find myself sick with worry. It was a dangerous endeavour at the very best of times, but now with the clearance, and the constant redcoat presence, it is a death sentence.

Janet is as worried as I, though she does a fair job at hiding it, so she is keeping us busy.

Today we have been in the attic, and I find that I have never been so filthy in all my life. I have also developed a health fear of spiders.

I have never been bothered by the critters before, yet when one is besieged by an army of the wee beasties, that are the size of ones hand, I am sure the change of heart is forgivable.

Good lord, I itch still. It is as though they are still amongst my skirts.

No, I cannot, I must go and change.

Friday 10th March 1747

I caught and skinned my first rabbit today. It is a task that I never thought I would partake in, and yet here I am, home from the hunt, feeling proud to have provided for the family.

And nauseated at having taken a life.

I know, I know, it is but a rabbit and I have eaten plenty in my life. More now than ever before. Yet it was a living, breathing creature and, when I wounded it, I wanted nothing more than to heal it.

I feel barbaric.

I am sure, if he were here, William would have found vast amusement in my appearance, just as his sister has. For there I stood in the kitchen doorway, my hands bloodied, and my face streaked with tears, as I handed to poor soul to Mrs Crook.

I actually think that I can still hear Janet chortling away somewhere below stairs.

I was half starved, but the stew still sits heavily in my stomach, threatening to regurgitate.

Thankfully, Janet will go tomorrow, and I can spend the day completing womanly chores and minding the children.

A much more pleasant endeavour I hope.

Thursday 16th March 1747

I hardly know what to write. In fact I can hardly write at all, for my pen shakes in my hand, and I cannot see through my tears.

I have witnessed the impossible, lived through unimaginable horrors, and have suffered pain like no other. But never have I been more terrified.

Time and again he threatened to kill me. Yet while the pain was nigh on unbearable, I think I always knew that he would not. He enjoyed the game too much, he enjoyed my agony, and the fear he instilled in me.

But now, I have no such assurances.

I did not know what to do when Mary came up from the village with the news that he was back. I had hoped that he had been lost in battle or had given up his search. It has been almost a year since that faithful day, and we have heard not a word of his return. But I was stupid and foolish to hope, and I once again live in fear of discovery.

He knows I am close. I do not know how, but he always has. That’s why he comes back.

I cannot run for he has eyes everywhere, and without William here, I cannot venture to the cave. I would not survive out there alone. So I am trapped, hiding amongst the spiders in the attic.

Monday 10th April 1747

There has been

Sunday 4th June 1747

It has been so long since I have written and, while I had so much to say, there had been no order to my thoughts, and no passion for writing them out.

As of yet I am not discovered.

He has been back twice more, and has ventured to Lallybroch, but thankfully William was back and had time enough to shuffle me down into the new priest hole before he made the court yard.

I sleep now with my door bared, my widow bolted and a blade hidden beneath my pillow. Not that I actually get much in the way of sleep. My ears strain in the silence of the night, listening to every creak and groan the house makes as it settles and I can never force my eyes to close.

When I do eventually sleep from exhaustion I am plagued by night-terrors, with memories from my past, that have me screaming myself awake.

Mary and William sleep in the room beside me, and I know that I must disturb them, for they look as exhausted as I.

They married last week in a small church service.

It was a beautiful moment and I could not be happier for them. William is helping her to heal from her loss, and she has made him whole.

I feared that he would ask for my hand, and I saw his grief when word came of my husbands reemergence. But it is for the best that he did not ask. To refuse him would have pained me greatly, and am not a fit wife for any man.

Thursday 15th June 1747

Catherine McKimmie passed away last night having just given birth to a beautiful baby girl. I tried everything I could think of to do, but it was hopeless. The afterbirth tore away, and I could do naught to stem the bleeding…

The dawn light was just filtering into the room as Jamie came to the last passage. He already knew what it would say, he’d read it before. But he’d been so engrossed in her life that he read it again.

He wanted to know what had happened to her. Why did she stop writing? Did her husband find her? Did they emigrate to the colonies? Did they all die of starvation?

Stupidly praying for a continuation or conclusion, he flipped the page expecting to see nothing but the end of her final passage. But what he saw, what he read, froze his blood in his veins.

His heart thudded and his breathing stopped as he stared in horror down at the page.

It was impossible.

Friday 16th June 1747

Someone has been in my room. A man, one that I have never seen before. At first I was overcome with fear presuming that he has been sent by Jonathan.

But now I do not know what to think.

I was in my garden, pulling fresh vegetables for dinner when I heard someone knocking on the window. I looked up expecting to see Janet or wee Jamie, but instead I found a near naked stranger.

He was stood in my window looking down at me, and with my initial glance I presumed it was William, for his hair was the same astonishing red. But then I recalled that William was not home, he had left an hour before with Mary to visit Grannie MacNab.

The man was angry, that much I could see, and I thought for sure that he would come down and accost me. When he moved to open the window I was so scared I thought I might vomit. But as he flipped the latch he vanished.

Complete disappeared into thin air.

With the help of old Alec, Janet and I searched the whole house, but there was no sign of him anywhere, and no one else had seen him.

But I know he was here, I know he was real, I saw him.

And I think he may have read my diary.

As I do every morning, I remember vividly placing it beneath my mattress before I began my chores today, but upon entry to my room, I discovered it open on the floor at the foot of the bed. I know no-one else here would invade my privacy in such a way, so it must have been him.

Who is he?

Has he been sent by Jonathan? Have I been found? Or is there an entirely unexplainable explanation?

Chapter 5

#outlander #jamieandclaire #outlanderfanfiction #thediary

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semi-imaginary-place · 4 years

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Name: Nacre Hallis

Role: Perspective

They catch the updraft off the windward side of their Lighthouse, rising into the sky. A constant battle against gravity, an inevitable fall. They ride from wave crest to wave crest, just a little more.

Nacre is a Gull of Selkie’s Rock. Every day they leave the lighthouse either by glider or on their nimble one-person sailboat to watch for storms and incoming ships. Nacre spent their 20’s roving from lighthouse to lighthouse before returning to Selkie’s Rock and was both comforted and disappointed to find it much the same, the same families and the same problems but new coats of paint. They stirred the lighthouse up a bit when they first got back but nothing really came of it and they eventually settled into their job as a Gull. They’re a little bitter and a little tired.

Wish/Fear: "May winds stay fair”

Issue: Torn between their loyalty to Selkie’s Rock and their desire to chase the horizon and never look back

《Bond: Old Man Zim: Facinated by Zim’s monster stories, Nacre was inspired and encouraged to go beyond Selkie’s Rock. They often meet up for drinks. Nacre goes to him for seafaring advice.

》Bond: Maeve Conmara: Nacre sees Maeve as dangerous, that she’s always looking down instead of up, looking back instead of forward.

Locations: The Bluff, The Docks

Nacre is just finishing filling out their side of the papers for the incoming vessel when they hear Cormac approach. They raise a hand in greeting, snorting at his question.“Well it certainly could be better, you’re right about that. Fair weather the whole week but the number of ships are down.”

“That Slimer’s really gone and done it this time. Who gave that idiot control of a ship? Oh right. His dearest family.” Nacre sighs but then pauses looking thoughtful, “But it can’t just be that. News wouldn’t have reached the Dallion Alliance yet, or the lighthouses farther out. And I can’t see them opening their hearts and caring all of a sudden...It might be the sea beasties, been seeing more of them. Saw one of those greater spined morays just this morning, you know, the ones with the giant head spines. “

Yes:

Statement that no family rules selkies rock. Precedent

No:

People will go hungry this winter

Conmaras will try to get away with more in the future.

Nacre watches the *Azure Arrow* approach, her sails taunt from the wind, "Well, we’re going to be hurting for the loss of commerce. Then we’re going to hurt when all that oil affects the harvests. If the Conmaras don’t pay it’s the regular folk that will."

Their eyes turn up to the gathering clouds, “Making ol’ Slimer pay sets the precedent. No family rules Selkie’s Rock. Not the Conmaras, not the LirBorns, you mess up, you pay for it.”

Nacre looks back at Cormac, clasps him on the shoulder and walks over to greet Old Man Zim.

“Well the council didn’t seem pleased with the proposal, but when I delivered this letter, the man immediately ran off, didn’t even close him front door. Wonder what that was about.”

“How’s your morning been?”

Nacre turns the bit of cloth in their hands. Rionna? or was this more Scrap’s doing? Part of Nacre was glad to see the foundations of the lighthouse shifting. Just, anything. Rionna, Cormac, Slider, Scrap, Maeve... yes. But also the crew cleaning up the spill, this whole leaning tower built on the families. Letting Slider slip out meant the burden would fall on those already hard hit by the poor harvest. Someone would starve regardless of how Rionna planned to use it as kindling. Disciplining the Conmaras would keep the other families in line, set a standard…

Tear down the tower or brace it, either way a storm was brewing.

Zarc Talkeen’s been a seaman for a few years now, practically jumped at the opportunity to crew The Mother of Pearls and follow in his mother’s footsteps out to sea. But then the rope snaps and tangles his legs and he is dragged along with it. Under the water, dashed against something he doesn’t have time to process, and under again; the shouts of Maeve and the workers are distant and interrupted, Zarc’s thoughts only on freeing himself, it’s the only thought his brain can process in the chaos.

And then steel cable strikes steel and there’s a spark. Zarc’s last memory is of fire on the water.

The moon hangs low on the sky closer to sunrise than sunset, its light mingling with that of the lighthouse’s. Nacre stands on the edge of the Bluff, watching the sheen of residual oil on the waves. They are exhausted, drained and numb after the events of the day. From seeing their friend go down to a blow to the head, unmoving, to holding a cloth to his head to stop the bleeding, to stepping back so Old Zim could speak, so awkwardly hovering besides their friend all the way home, Nacre had not stopped moving. Now everything was still, everything except the endless churning on the waves.

All things pass, both foul and fair. The roar of the mob… they weren’t wrong, and with that a bitterness wells up to fill the emptiness. Always a step ahead or a step behind, never in the right place at the right time. Nacre had cried out of the Rock’s crumbling foundations, the corruption of nepotism and the turf wars between the families, but their voice hadn’t reached anyone. Like an invisible wall cutting them off from the rest of the Lighthouse, no matter how loud they had shouted, no one had turned their head. Would the council try to sweep this too under the rug?

Location: at sea

A Gull must be able to read the wind, it’s the wind after all the decides how long and how far you can go in a day, go too far or stay too late and you’ll be stuck in the middle of the sea. Nacre remembers watching the others take off from the Lighthouse, still stuck on the ground as the flight instructor explains they aren’t quite ready.

This day has been clear with the strong winds that come in Autumn. Ardan and Nacre have been out several hours to the far reaches of the Gull’s range, leaving the ship registration to others for the day. Soon they will enter the danger zone for returning. Nacre is about to give the signal for the two of them to use the next gust to pivot and start heading back to Selkie’s Rock when movement catches their eye. Looking attentively, they see its not the movement of waves but a large fin sinking back into the water. Nacre and Ardan circle watch as another fin breaches the surface. The King Fishers are finally here along their annual circumpolar migration, a little late but here. Ardan lets out a whoop as the two head back.

Nacre watches with amusement as Ardan bounces around. They then survey the rebuilding of the Docks, mycelium composite beams being hauled in to replace charred wood, “We need that oil”. The hand on their glider tightens.

They back to Ardan, “Don’t get too excited now, if you wanted action you should have become a monster hunter instead of a Gull, our job’s just about done. Just some more scouting and maybe running a distraction during the hunt, but that won’t be you or me, probably Andre or Crisol or Haley, they all have excellent control. Its dangerous work, you know how every year someone comes back injured, or worse”

Ardan deflates a little and seeing that Nacre exhales, takes a breath and says, “Look, just means you have room to grow. You do it, and you slowly get better at it. Look at us. A few years ago, neither of us could fly, and in a few more years who knows how far you’ll go.”

Nacre lightly slaps Ardan on the back and starts walking towards the Lighthouse. They smile as they walk, “You know, Old Man Zim used to tell me stories of the old King Fisher hunts, the water teeming with so many of the scaly beasts that you could walk a mile on top of their backs without ever getting your toes wet. Always thought he was exaggerating that bit, certainly never seen anywhere near that many in my years as a Gull. But my gran said the same thing, that our boats would come back sitting low and fat in the water and we’d have extra for the entire next year and to sell.”

All around them word of the arrival of the King Fishers is spreading, excitement grows as people look forward to a good harvest, a little more food on the table, the security that the light won’t go out.

“Makes me wonder, where did they all go?”.

As two pairs of feet make their way up the Lighthouse. Nacre turns over the question in their head some more and rubs the back of their neck, “I might just be rambling here—I mean who here really knows—all we’ve gots are the old tales of sailors to go off of and the recent unrest has thrown off my compass so to speak but I don’t know maybe they went somewhere else I mean they’re always going somewhere aren’t they just passing by or maybe there really aren’t many left things are always changing maybe it’s us I haven’t thought this one through—Actually you know who might have a clearer picture here. Ol’ Selsei . A right old seadog she is, been watching over the fisheries ever since she retired from monster hunting. Perhaps accessing the archives or asking Diana would be a good idea as well.”.

“Just in time for the afternoon meeting.” Nacre nods at Ardan, “Ardan, they don’t need two of us there. Go ahead and write the report and leave it on my desk, I’ll read over it and file it later. When I get back you can come with to go see Selsei is you are still curious”

As Nacre nears the meeting room, they hear the rumble of conversation through the door. They knock and open the door to Lyra Conmara glaring at the Council of Selkie’s Rock. Lyra looks glances at the door before standing, setting her jaw and fiercely articulating “I dearly hope the Council remembers who are truly the foundation on Selkie’s Rock”. Nacre watched Lyra leaves the room, her heavy footsteps retreating down the hallway.

“I am here to report on the patrol of today the 23 of the 10th month, a formal report will be available on file shortly. Today a group of approximately 16 King Fishers was spotted along the eastern boundary. The hunting companies have been notified. Taking into account yesterday’s finding, it is recommended that they embark soon,”

“Rionna Lirborn hmm?”, Nacre turns their head to Rionna, face neutral.

“We all have a place here at Selkie’s Rock, but as our Lighthouse crumbles, you will find those places easily shift and fall away.”

“The council would do well to make an informed decision.”

Diana was a bit past her flying years but no one had a sharper memory or knew the archives better than her. And every afternoon she took tea with her old friend and diametric opposite Selsei. Today, Selsei and Diana sat in an alcove lit by lanterns, heads bent together, makeshift table cluttered with papers and mugs of redfan tea. At the approach of Nacre with Ardan trailing behind, Diana lifts a hand to greet her coworkers while Selsei tilts her head and chuffs at the new arrivals before taking a deep draught from her mug.

“Excuse us”, Nacre nods to the two of them, “I’m sure the buzz of the King Fishers arriving has reached you two—Me and Ardan were out there this morning actually—and I had a thought. Wasn’t there more in the past? Diana you know the recorded sightings from past years, could I take a look? And Selsei you were out there on the water, Old Man Zim told me there used to be droves of them.”

Diana lowers her eyes and takes a sip from her mug before folding her hands in her lap, mind sorting though all the reports she’d read. Selsel though leans forward, elbow on the table and says, “Nacre eh, ohhh the one always hanging onto Zim’s sleeves. Yeah, crewed a few of those with Zim and just as many on a competitor, heh, taught him a good few tricks I did. And well you’re not the only ones who’ve noticed, I may be retired but I keep up with what happens out on the sea. Them hunter still bring back a fair amount, but each year the big ones are harder to find. It used to be about testing yourself, reaching the summit of what us humans can do, taking down a god. Now its just business, feed the light, profit off other lighthouses. And the King Fishers the bring in keep getting smaller, haven’t seen a real big one in years. Oh what’d I do to hunt one again.”

Diana speaks as Selsei falls quiet, eyes on her friend. “Yes, I do believe the reports match up. Well, the early records are all a mess, I never spent much time with those, full of strange words. But ever since we’ve been keeping track of the number of King Fisher sighted and caught, yes the trend has been downward. Let me write down the ones I remember.”

Nacre frowns, “I can look up the remaining years, but would either of you two have an idea of why? I hesitate to jump to conclusions and say its us, but has anything else changed? Maybe their food or the water itself?”

“Its those damn Lirborns muscling in and trying to squeeze us dry, all for what, a lil more cash”, Selsei scoffs, “They forget about the Hunt, and what it means to kill one who fishes for kings.”

Diana glances at Selsei but looks to Nacre and responds, “Its hard to say for certain, the sightings and catch are what we have most consistently recorded, but everything else either falls outside of our jurisdiction, or its at the whims of the council. What is determined to be important enough to record cycles with who sits in the Council.”

Diana sighs, “I tried appealing for a long term plan, but we need funding for that. Securing funding for the decades that have not come, it was difficult. But data like this is no use to anyone in fragments. I can’t track any pattern.”

Nacre nods, “I guess we’ll just have to work with incomplete data. Maybe it really is us. If we killed all the big ones that’d explain when we don’t see none anymore. And the steady catch would be because every year we try harder. If that’s true then one day soon there won’t be any more King Fishers.”

So there in the belly of the archive, four huddle over a small table as they try to piece together a puzzle missing half of its pieces, but elsewhere in the Lighthouse hunters prepare their harpoons while the council argues on. Along street and houses lanterns and paper fish are being hung up to welcome the arrival of the Kingfishers, children run along the street, King Fisher kites streaming behind them. The waters are calm, no back breaks the surface.

Y1: extinction of kingfishers (maybe not immediately but eventually)

N1: public moral plummets and discontent spreads

N2: resources shortages (food, oil), so winter rationing starts or something

N1: king fishers dont go extinct

Y1: public moral increases

Y2: we make it through the winter

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itsjawren · 7 years

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Chapter 14: Home for the Holidays

Talia lay in her bed and listened as the house woke up, it was a rarity that she got to do this, but as it was the holidays and even warring packs let bygones be bygones unless a very grievous offence was had. So yes Talia was able to lie in bed with her husband and listen to her pack hustle about to and fro, noting that Dean must have arrived sometime in the night, because only he would start preparing Breakfast for everyone, this also means he once again stole his father’s car as his own, Talia’s wolf really only could ignore the Impala, even as loud as it was. But alas, even having a bit of a lie in had to end, especially when Cora and Derek yelling yay pancakes would wake even the dead. It only got louder when they ran and tackled Dean asking him about his time away from the pack.

“I suppose we have to go save our human pack mate?” Talia turned to face Erik.

“Let Peter do it, Dean’s cooking breakfast for him Peter will kill you if it meant he will get to eat Deans cooking.” Erik kissed her as she laughed “we have the morning off.”

“We may not have to look after the pack, but we do have to go gift shopping”

“Still? I thought we got it all done.” Erik whined.

“That was before we got a call from Val saying she was coming home for the holidays with Nikodem, and I think we should get Dean something else. Something personal.”

“That will only make him feel awkward, and he will say we spoil him enough.” Erik sighed as he saw his wife’s eyes rim red “though I do agree we should get him something else. Hunter tools are fine but your right it’s not personal.”

“Okay it’s settled we let Dean Take care of our pups and we get him another present, and figure out what to get a couple who we haven’t seen in a few years.” Talia gives another kiss to Erik before getting dressed for the day. By the time Talia and Erik made it down the stairs breakfast has been served and the pack was happily eating except Dean who hopped up as soon as he heard them on the stairs to plate their breakfast so it’s hot. “Good morning Dean, when did you arrive?”

“Umm around 3:30” not technically a lie because he did arrive in California state around that time. Dean continued to cook the meal

“More like 5” Peter mumbled, and Dean almost burnt his hand on the frying pan when he tried to glare at Peter.

“And where did you come from?” Talia continued interrogating the hunter who has surprisingly learned a trick to lie to the werewolves over the years, though not very well thankfully for the pack.

“uhh. Utah?” he drove through Utah.

“I thought you were in Colorado?” Derek asks. Dean started to look a little shifty now and didn’t look up from his cooking.

“And have you slept at all or have you just driven 17 hours straight?”

“I caught a couple of hours, here and there during that drive.” Dean plated the eggs and pulled out the bacon and pancakes from the oven.

Talia had a feeling it was exactly a couple hours here and there but her human was ever so stubborn “Oh Dean you need to sleep hunny, it’s not healthy.” Talia accepted both plates from him and handed them to Erik.

“I will sort it out here, I always do and I am staying until after the New Year. So that’s like three weeks of me.” Dean grinned as Talia scented him and gave him a hug. “it’s just I feel like I am at war constantly and all the little beasties are making a huff right now and I don’t know why, I think it has something to do with yellow eyes.” Dean confessed, at the mention of Yellow eyes it all made sense, he was looking after his other brother, Talia tightened her hug just a bit. “But I turned off my hunting phone, and am here 100%” Dean thought for a second as he let go of Talia “well maybe 75% little star needs my attention too.”

The pack finished breakfast in an hour with Dean serving food periodically and regaling the pack with his hunting stories, Talia and Erik left with the order of “Peter’s in charge and Dean look after them for me will you” when she got nod’s from them she left towards town.

This close to Christmas it was surprisingly not bad, Talia even found a parking spot fairly quickly at the mall. Finding the right gift for Dean was tough, when she phoned Peter to ask what he thought, he listed off the gifts he and Derek already got him, which was a military jacket ordered online, and a bracelet that Derek found at an actual occult shop. Talia knew that the pack just attached their names to the gifts that she herself bought for the hunter so went in search of a more personal gift for Dean, while Erik poked around for his niece.

It took a few hours to find the gifts, for Dean, Talia went with a very simple Silver ring, with the inscription on the inside being a triskele with the hopes that is will become a betrothal ring sometime in the future. Erik settled on getting the couple books, on their interests with the decision to take them shopping in the new year before they left.

When they returned they sat in the warm car and listened to their house, it seemed Stiles had been kidnapped, as his and cora’s giggle sounded out. Laura seemed the victim of their prank, she probably tried to get Cora, “presentable” again. This was confirmed by Derek’s voice piping up to settle Laura’s rage, “Laura, you know Cor absolutely will not put that ruffley skirt on until actual official pictures are taken, and she doesn’t need to, she is going to be running around with Little Star anyhow.” “It’s Stiles, remember, Der” Stiles absently corrects “of course sorry Stiles, anyway leave them be…” the house seemed too quiet for an odd amount of time, probably a glaring match, before Derek spoke again “Dean said he was baking so you need to wash up Stiles, and Dean will braid your hair Cora so it’s out of the way, for when you help him.” The children’s hollers of excitement almost drown out Laura’s groan “I was going to fix her hair, why does she let Dean do it?” “Because Dean just braids her hair, and doesn’t add glitter or beads.”

“He will be a good Alpha one day,” Erik comments quietly as he listens to his children.

“Laura will be too, when she calms down, we will train both of them, I have a feeling all of them will need all the training a pack could give.” Talia says proudly. “But he is perfect as Peter’s second already, their manners even each other out.”

“Oh how our pack has grown and settled, enough that the next generation is already filling positions for when the time comes,” Erik says Grabbing Talia’s hand.

“That time won’t be here for a long time, my love.” Talia just breathes in the moment and Squeezes Erik’s hand. Talia enjoyed the peace that she and her once small pack of three fought and killed for. Her children will never know an abusive father, and a weak Alpha. They will grow up strong, and intelligent, as well as loved.

Part 1 / Previous Part / Next Part

#100 prompts #christmas #fanfiction #SPN #supernatural #Superwolf #teen wolf #part 7 #095.#chapter14 #talia hale #hale pack #laura hale #Peter Hale #cora hale #stiles stilinski #derek hale

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romancereadingdiva · 4 years

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A Vow of Hate Chapter Reveal!

A VOW OF HATE by Lylah James is coming January 5th, and today I have a chapter reveal for you!

Chapter Reveal:

Chapter One

Julianna

The ugliness of life is that sometimes we can’t undo what has been done. It doesn’t matter how devastating the outcome is; we can’t turn back time – can’t change the past – can’t fix the future.

“It is what it is,” my father had said that night.

The night I woke up from my coma, bedridden with two broken legs, three fractured ribs, a messed-up spine and a fractured skull… and more scars than I could bear.

One night, four months ago, I made a mistake that ruined more than one life.

Since then, I have learned that grief is just a stage of coming to terms with the situation.

Just like denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Except, I was still on the fourth stage. Depression, my therapist would say with a pitiful sigh.

Misery still choked me every morning as I swallowed down my breakfast and every minute of the day. While it wasn’t as heavy as guilt, the imbedded grief still festered pus like an untreated wound.

But it was the guilt…

Guilt was what killed me everyday.

Pain became my companion; grief was my nightmare and guilt turned out to be my soulmate.

“Julianna, you haven’t had your breakfast yet.”

I could feel her presence behind me but I didn’t turn away from the window. “I’m not hungry.”

Selene, our elderly maid and my only friend, made a sound in the back of her throat. “Your father–”

“He doesn’t need to know,” I said, my nails digging into my palms.

“Your sister–”

My lungs caved in, my body growing cold. “Stop. Don’t even finish that sentence.”

“Julianna.”

“Please, stop. Stop trying. Just take the food and leave.”

My shaky voice was followed by silence and then the door clicked close. Her presence disappeared and I was finally able to wallow in self-pity again.

My window overlooked the stables from behind our mansion. My father’s estate expanded many thousand acres, but this spot used to be my favorite view.

Except now, it was nothing but a bitter reminder.

How could our lives change so quickly in merely four months?

If only we hadn’t sneaked out…

If only I hadn’t been so stubborn…

If only I hadn’t been driving that night…

My hand came up, trembling as I touched the black veil. The thin fabric started from below my eyes and hid the rest of my face. I kept my black hair down, with bangs that I never had before, keeping my forehead covered. Only my eyes were visible.

I hear she’s ugly now, that’s why she hides behind the veil, the whispers would say.

It’s good she keeps it covered. I don’t want her to give me nightmares.

Beasty, some sneered.

The poor girl, others pitied.

The whispers didn’t hurt. In fact, they had little effect on me. I had learned to shut the world out while I surrounded myself with my own misery. Jolie, my therapist, said it wasn’t the right coping mechanism. She said I was making it harder on myself.

She said a lot of things, but none of them mattered.

My sister – Gracelynn – was still dead. Because of me.

And I was still here, alive and breathing when it should had been me in her place.

I still remembered her wide-open, dead eyes. I could still smell the unpleasant odor of metallic copper; our blood and sweat. I still saw her mangled face so vividly in my memories and every time I closed my eyes.

I was in that car with her dead body for three hours.

Three hours that felt like three extremely long days.

I passed out many times, regaining consciousness only to see her bloodied face again and again, while I screamed at her to breathe, to stay alive.

Gracelynn wasn’t wearing her seatbelt that night. The force of the impact, and when our car flipped, sent her flying through the windshield. Her screams still echoed in my ears. Her swollen, mangled face with glass shards lodged in her flesh was still seared in my brain.

Most days, I spent my time like this. Listlessly staring out the window, watching the sun rise and set, watching the day go by, turning into months.

It wasn’t like I could run away from my misery. No, I couldn’t even walk.

That accident took more from me than anyone would ever see.

***

Hours later, the door opened again, bringing me out of my thoughts. I was still rooted in the same spot as Selene left me this morning.

“I’m not hungry,” I said, already knowing who it was. Only two people were allowed in my room. Selene and my father.

My father rarely visited me.

And Selene was the only face I saw everyday. Her presence and the only human contact I had since I woke up from the coma and was brought back to my father’s estate, kept what was left of my sanity intact.

“The room smells like death and despair. Quite frankly, I approve.”

My eyes widened.

No.

My head swam and the collar of my sweater felt too tight.

What was he doing here?

Killian Spencer was the last person I expected to come into my room. The last time we saw each other…

Two months ago, when I visited my sister’s resting place, for the first time. He had been there before me and when I had turned to leave, he didn’t let me go without giving me a piece of his mind.

Cold voice.

Dark eyes.

Cruel words.

That was Killian Spencer. The new him.

“Julianna,” he sneered my name. I imagined him curling his lips in distaste.

“Before you say anything,” I started to warn him, but he spoke over me.

“Our fathers have arranged our marriage. It’s being finalized as we speak.”

I shut up and closed my eyes, holding back a desperate cry. He approached me from behind, his footsteps sounding closer. I could feel his body heat. I could smell his strong, spicy cologne. Unique and familiar.

My chest rattled when I exhaled a shaky breath. “You could have refused.”

From my peripheral vision, I saw his hands come up and he placed them over the handles of my wheelchair. For the first time, I realized how powerless I was against him. Weak and fragile.

He could easily hurt me.

And I would let him.

“You say this and yet you know how important this marriage is for both our families,” Killian mocked.

My fingers latched onto my silver, charm bracelet. With a frantic need, I used the sharp edge of the heart and dug it deep into my wrist. I winced and the pain made me think. Made me feel alive. “Is that the only reason why you agreed to this marriage?”

He bent forward, bringing his head closer to mine. I felt his breath against my ear. “You know very well what my reasons are.”

“You could just kill me,” I said. “Make it easy for both of us, don’t you think?”

“Why should you have an easy death?” The hatred in his voice was unmistakeable. “She died a cruel death, Julianna. And you will suffer a worse fate.”

There it was. This was the reason why we were poison together.

I killed his love and he wanted vengeance.

“Do you know what date today is?”

How could I forget?

Killian was still too close. His presence was suffocating. “She was supposed to walk down the aisle today,” he said, deadly and heartless. But I didn’t miss the pain and the longing in his voice.

Gracelynn would have been the prettiest bride ever. I closed my eyes and choked on the sob threatening to spill from my throat.

My sniffling filled the room and there was Killian’s dreadful silence. His silence was eerie and disturbing. Killian was deadlier than a viper, as he waited for the right moment to strike.

He moved around my wheelchair and stood in front of me. Dressed in all black, he was an imposing figure. I dragged my gaze up, from his polished leather shoes, up to his strong thighs, his wide chest and shoulders and then his face. Full lips, dark eyes and a glacial expression.

Our eyes met and he blinked, once, as if to shake the image of me from his brain. As if I was a ghost, haunting him.

Maybe I was.

Killian leaned against the window, his hands going to the sill as he crossed his ankles. He looked every bit the powerful and confident man he was. So devious, so in control, so cruel.

I fidgeted under his gaze, feeling so out of control while he was so contained.

“Two years.”

I blinked. “What?”

There was a tick in his left cheek, his muscles clenching, and his jaw hardened. Killian nodded at my legs – useless and frail. “Your father said it’ll take you a long time to walk again, if you ever will. With all the necessary therapy, he’s giving you two years.”

I swallowed. “Two years…?”

“Two years so you can walk down the aisle. Our wedding will be held on this day, two years from now.”

I knew this was coming. My father warned me beforehand – I’d have to take Gracelynn’s place at the altar – but I was still not prepared for this announcement.

“What if I can’t walk again?”

He grinned cruelly. “Then, I’ll drag you down the aisle, on your fucking knees, if I have to.”

I sucked in a shuddering breath. Killian stepped away from the window and bent forward, bringing his face closer to mine. I couldn’t even move. My wheelchair kept me in place. His breath feathered over my veil, right over my lips. “Listen to me very carefully. You will marry me; you will pay for your sins and you will die at my hands.”

He didn’t see that I was already paying for my mistakes.

Just like everyone else, Killian didn’t see me. They saw my veil. They saw my sin.

No one saw Julianna Romano anymore.

They didn’t see my remorse– or that my sister’s ghost haunted me.

My nails dug deeper into my palm, drawing blood. I lifted my chin up, matching his cold stare. “You’ve made yourself very clear, Killian Spencer.”

He chuckled at my show of I’m-not-scared-of-you-do-your-worst. It was a weak attempt at bravery, but I didn’t want him to think I was as powerless as he thought I was.

My life was already hell. But I still had some kind of control over what Killian could do to me, even though I deserved everything he said.

I should pay for my sin.

I should suffer.

I should die at his hands.

It was his right. After all, I killed his heart.

It would have been easy to say that Killian was the villain. But it was far from the truth. He was just another casualty of my mistakes and the end result of my sins.

I was the villain in this messy fairy tale.

His hand came up to my face and I flinched, expecting him to strike me, but he didn’t. Killian curled a finger around a strand of black hair and then pulled. Hard enough to burn my scalp. “I will break you, Julianna Romano.”

You can’t break what’s already broken.

I turned my face away, no longer able to look into his dark eyes. There was just something in them. Something that made me ache.

“You’ve said what you came here to say. You can leave now.”

Killian pulled back and strode away. I clutched my chest, bearing the pain that seemed to dig itself deeper under my flesh. It wasn’t just my heart that ached. It was my soul that was tormented.

“Oh right, I forgot to give you this.” He fished something out of his pocket and then carelessly threw it my way. It skidded on the shiny floor, a few feet away from my wheelchair.

“Your ring,” Killian said coldly, his voice dripping with venom. “Wear it. Happy engagement to us.”

After he was long gone, Selene came back. Without a word, she lifted the ring from the floor and handed it to me. I took it from her, staring at the extravagant diamond ring. The rock was huge and nothing like my personal taste. But then again, this wedding wasn’t about me and Killian could care less about my preferences.

It was heavy in my palm, but the weight was more than just the shiny diamond itself.

I loathed it.

And yet, I still wore it on my ring finger.

When my father came into my room much later, he smiled approvingly at the sight of my ring, patted me on the hand and then walked away without a word.

It was official.

Two years from now, I would be Killian’s wife.

This marriage was his vengeance – the vows would not be of love, but of hatred.

His retaliation. My atonement. One imperfect marriage.

Blurb:

An all-new standalone hate-to-love, arranged marriage romance with a TWIST from Lylah James.

“Once upon a time…”

Hate consumed him.

Love wrecked me.

That night changed both our lives, turning our beginning into something toxic. We were poison together and there was no antidote.

Our story began like any other fairy tale ended.

With a beautiful wedding.

One kiss.

Two rings.

Three vows.

Killian Spencer became my lawfully wedded husband and I, his dutiful wife.

But he was no Prince Charming. He didn’t come to save me… and he vowed there would be no happily ever after.

And me?

Just like the legends I'd read as a little girl, I always thought I’d be the princess in my fairy tale.

Well, I was the villain of our love story.

“Till death do us part…”

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eliashiebert · 6 years

Text

Instrumental Soul

Rolled by: Me For: A., J., D. and the rest Late Summer 2018 TRT: 1h19m21s

There are a few instrumentals I’ve been putting on evry tape for years…Bar-Kays’ “Knucklehead”, Kool & The Gang’s “Street Corner Symphony” and Ike Turner’s “Funky Mule”. For awhile I’ve been thinking about a mixtape of all instrumentals. Normally I like making tapes that go off in all directions. I don’t usually do themes, altho I think of a lot of them. I have almost never done a tape of tunes from mostly just one genre. I like this one a lot tho. Maybe I’ll do more. Settle down a bit, stop childishly trying to impress you with my hard lefts & flying leaps.

Once I finally started, this tape came together super-quick. It wasnt hard to find another hour of funky jazzy soul-ey instrumental toons. I assumed, as you might, confronted with a mix calld Instrumental Soul, I’d eventually get around to some Booker T. and the M.G.’s. Somehow, tho, they are not here…but their influence is defnilly present.

I usually try to make my mixes fit on an old-school 74-minute ceedee…you know, just like the 9th Symphony. I like to use the most restrictive definition, even tho I’ll ultimately be dumping it onto an 80-minute CDR. Or, these days I’d as soon keep it as file, but my friends they all still like getting the “physical” disk, don’t ask me why. Anyway, this is all to say I broke that rule this time around. I already weeded out a bunch of stuff I wanted to put in to get it under the 80 minute mark (yes I’m already planning a Part 2), and I didnt want to lose any more.

Another thing I did different with this one is give the songs some room to breathe with a couple seconds of silence between each one instead of running them all together like I usually do.

Here we go….

Roger & the Gypsies “Pass The Hatchet Pt. 1” Seven B 7001 (1966)

Happy hypnotic groover from New Orleans funkmaster Eddie Bo, a dude with really excellent hair. Like a lot of what’s on here, he came to my attention originally thru Funky16Corners. The original 45 costs mad cheddar but it’s on lotsa collections…various little indie N.O. funk comps and even the Desperado soundtrack. I took it from Mojo’s “Southern Soul” disc. I don’t think it’s on any of the main Eddie Bo collections, Funky Delicacies’ Funky Funky New Orleans or Vampisoul’s In The Pocket with Eddie Bo or etc. It’d be nice if there were something truly comprehensive out there, but ya know.

The J.B.’s “Pass The Peas” From Food For Thought (People 1972)

Maybe part of the reason the JB’s have been looped so often is that they sound like a loop to begin with. No one can lock like they could. Long solo from leader Fred Wesley…I love a good trombone solo, but the player has to have a fabulous tone and mad technique, both which of course the legendary Fred Wesley has by the bucketful. What he doesnt have is the vocabulary of a jazz player—it’s pure funksoul; it stays inside its box. You might find that a little repetitious after some 36 bars but I don’t care I don’t care. Some organ in the background from the Creator himself. I playfully referred to the instrument as the “pipes,” as in, “Is that James Brown on the pipes?” and Jen would not have it. “It’s a Hammond organ!” she yelled, “There’s no pipes!!”

Some of my sources for this tape are vintage elpees and some, like this one, are slightly suspect vinyl re-issues. They look good but questions like Are they properly licensed? and Were they mastered from the original tapes or some inferior copy? are anyone’s guess. I don’t know, it sounds good to me. That’s how a lot of this type of material is available these days. Many of these albums never got any official re-issues, digital or analog. You can’t be too picky unless you want to lay out for first pressings.

Dizzy Gillespie “Matrix” From The Real Thing (Perception 1970)

The jazz legend (is legend a strong enuf word?) ’s soul-flavord The Real Thing album gets my highest recommendation. A heat rock if ever there was one. You wanna hear Dizzy Gillespie and his fine collaborators blow over hard beats from a funky rhythm section? Yes you do.

Eddie Harris “Listen Here” From The Electrifying Eddie Harris (Atlantic 1968)

Some cool elevator jazz from the electric saxophonist once referenced in a Beastie Boys hit. Is it fair to call it elevator music? Does that term even mean anything other than an offhand dis? When I say it, I’m talking about something specific, at least in my own head. Elevator music, like disco, is something I wasnt supposed to like but which I now have a growing appreciation for. Maybe I shud make a tape of all elevator music, like the stuff I used to hear at Kohl’s when I was a kid. Maybe I’ll make it for my friend J. who likes to listen to the smooth jazz station when he’s hungover.

This tune evokes a train moving underground, and it might inject some joy in yer commute if you put it in your headphones.

J. C. Davis “A New Day (Is Here At Last)” New Day 1373 (1969), remixed and re-issued on A New Day! The Complete Mus-I-Col Recordings Of J. C. Davis (Cali-Tex 2005)

My brother A. put me on to this dude. The saxophonist and bandleader (not to be confused with the other J. C. Davis who played guitar with Hank Ballard and the Midnighters) backed James Brown in the early 60s and around ’69 released a few singles on his own label. Around ’05, Josh Davis AKA DJ Shadow went back to the studio in Columbus, Ohio, where those records were made and he remixed them “on the original mix board” because he’s the king of the nerds. That irresistible smooth, slightly edgy sax sound crooning over haaard mutherfuckin drums begging to be sampled—and they have been!—with that cool 60s chickenwing funk guitar & organ.

Tom Scott and the L.A. Express “Sneakin’ In The Back” Originally from their self-titled album (Ode/Epic 1974), later appearing on volume whatever of the Ultimate Breaks ’n’ beats (Street Beat 1990)

A little misterioso now. This smoothie I got from my bootleg version of Lenny Roberts & Lou Flores’ collection of evry essential breakbeat ever. No doubt Tom Scott & the L.A. Express would find their way to my elevator music tape too.

Willie Bobo and the Bo-Gents “Do What You Want to Do” From Do What You Want To Do… (Sussex 1971)

Of course it was Larry who first introduced me to this album. Try to be unhappy listnin to this sawng. Try. Classic example of that East Side salsa n soul I love.

Freddie Hubbard “Backlash” From Backlash (Atlantic 1967)

Again, a great jazz artist doin’ a record in a funksoul-influenced style. Freddie Hubbard is one of my favorite trumpet players, and this tune scorches.

Bar-Kays “Knucklehead” The flip side of “Soul Finger”, Volt 168 (1967)

I bought the Soul Finger album (yet another suspect re-issue) becuz the title track is essential, but this hard hitter is my faverit tune on it. The B side wins again!

Dizzy Gillespie “Soul Kiss” From The Real Thing (Perception 1970)

Another tune from The Real Thing, a more frantic one, with kissy noises from the trumpet. By the way, if you sound like this when you kiss, I’m pretty sure you arnt doing it right.

The Mohawks “The Champ” Pama PM 719 (1968)

It’s called “Champ” but it sounds more like “tramp” a la Carla Thomas. The band is doin’ the Booker T., and that screamin organ riff by Alan Hawkshaw (sampled many, many times of course) over top of it is un dee nigh uh bull.

Zap-Pow “Soul Revival” Jaywax 45 (1974?). Also on the album Revolutionary (Roosevelt 1976?), but most likely to be found on the compilation Funky Kingston: Reggae Dance Floor Grooves 1968–74 (Trojan 2002)

Another gem brought to my attn by Funky16Corners. Heard it on the blog and had to run out right away and buy the comp just for one song. Probably the tightest record on here next to the JB’s. Usually filed as reggae due to its place of origin, but this is str8 funksoul.

Kool & The Gang “Street Corner Symphony” From Light Of Worlds (De-Lite 1974)

I love it when Kool & The Gang does their fake jazz thing. Got soul-jazz from both sides of the fence on here. At the end the sax quotes “My Favorite Things” (a nod to Trane I assume) which always cracks me up.

Ike Turner & the Kings Of Rhythm “Funky Mule” From A Black Man’s Soul (Pompeii 1969)

Ike & Tina Turner made a lot of really cool records and a lot of mediocre ones (and I wish I knew which was which), and these days they are scattered across a hundred seedy bargain compilation ceedees. The act has never been anthologized properly, maybe due to Ike’s reputation (which I’m sure is well-deserved…recent attempts to rehabilitate him kind of piss me off…tho also irritating is the popular image of him as a cartoonish monster, mostly due to the movie, which even Tina said didnt happen like that. Evrybody does good and bad things in their life. The good things don’t take away the bad things and vice versa, and you can dig music with eyes open to the fact that some of the ones who made it were not cool people). I pickt up one such random comp choosing it mostly for the title: I Smell Trouble!!! (yes with three exclamation points !). It included this hard funk instrumental that cracked my head open wit a axe. It’s one of those songs where they just crammd in evry badass riff they could think of. Again, hard, hard muthafuckin drums, driving horns growling and belching smoke, funkee geetar, a busy bassline dancing underneath it all. Wish I knew who the players were but no credits given.

Dr. Octagon “Bear Witness” From Dr. Octagonecologyst (Bulk 1996)

Dr Octagonecologyst is a goofball boom-bap classic. I remember hearing Blue Flowers on AMP. For a while that was the best or one of the only good things on MTV, and it turnd me on to a lot of cool stuff. This instrumental showcases DJ Q-Bert’s scratching and a bevy of funky breaks. The sampled battlecry, “Creating rap music ’cause I never dug disco” sure sounds like Chuck D (thanks to some processing) but it’s actually an obsure MC from the 80s called 4-Ever Fresh. Automator and a supercrew of DJ/producers including Prince Paul & Shadow would revisit this track a few years later on Handsome Boy Modeling School’s equally classic first album.

James Brown “Spinning Wheel” From Sex Machine (King 1970)

James Brown’s mellow organ version of Blood, Sweat & Tears’ Spinnin Wheel is an unsung classic.

Bill Doggett “Honky Tonk Pt. 2” King 4950 (1956)

Long ago, my former coworker K. turnd me on to Bill Doggett and this much-coverd happy, handclapping, sax-driven early rocknroll hit. I took it from this comp.

Doc Bagby “Crazy Chemistry” Okeh 4-7098 (1958)

My good, good friend M. once gave me, for my birthday maybe, when I was like 20, a big stack of 45s from his own collection. I still prize them to this day. This was one. Demented carnival music with Wurlitzer organ and bouncy guitar.

The 45 King “Get Funky” On The Lost Breakbeats Volume 1 & 2 (The Yellow Album) (45 King Records 1983)

Super duper beat maker the 45 King. Lotsa gems on this collection, which I got on bootleg download.

Hugh Masekela “Grazing In The Grass” From The Promise of a Future (Universal City 1968)

It’s a gas. The original, instrumental version by South African trumpet player Hugh Masekela. Only 2 anna half minutes. Supposedly recorded just to fill time on the album. Huge hit. Gotta have more cowbell, more overdriven brass, more POP!

The Meters “Sophisticated Cissy” Josie 1001 (1968), the band’s first single I think. Also on The Meters

Aww, such a badass slow groove, makes you say “UH!” KRS-One and Scott LaRock sampled this on “Essays On BDP-ism”, a very cool record made just before Scott LaRock’s death in 1987 and unreleased until 2000. I’m surpised it hasnt been sampled more. Great way to come in for the close.

Ray Charles “Doodlin’” From The Great Ray Charles

Ray Charles and his associates do a sweet version of the Horace Silver tune, with a muted trumpet by John Hunt and tenor sax David Newman. I was first introduced to Ray Charles’s jazz material and this tune in particular via a tape in my brother’s car he was way into around, oh, twenty years ago. A tape he got from his friend G. probably. Ray Charles made a couplefew jazz albums. Highlights from them appear on this odd artifact, with its yellow cover and monochrome portrait that looks like a zeerox. With a title like The Best of Ray Charles, you might expect material like “What’d I Say” and “Georgia” rather than 6 instrumental jazz tunes. Nevertheless it is highly recommended.

Boom!

#music #mixtapes #mixlog

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