#garlic keeper

[heritagecollectibles]

17 Pieces of Vintage, Maine-Made Pottery

17 Pieces of Vintage, Maine-Made Pottery

[projetosmile]

Best Balsamic Marinated Pork Tenderloin This tasty recipe for pork tenderloin marinated in a sweet and tangy sauce of balsamic vinegar, honey, garlic, and rosemary is a definite keeper.

[meanmelin]

Best Balsamic Marinated Pork Tenderloin

This delicious marinated pork tenderloin recipe, which combines balsamic vinegar, honey, garlic, and rosemary, is sure to become a family favorite.

[daveydoodle]

I am probably wrong to do it but I keep my potatoes in the fridge and onions in the fruit bin in the fridge. I only buy one head of garlic at a time and keep it on the kitchen counter under a container. 😁

[nyxshadowhawk]

Hellenic Gods Fact Sheets and Hymns: Hecate

Other Names: Trivia, Brimo

Epithets: Anassa eneroi  (queen of those below), Aidonaia (lady of the Underworld), Amibousa (she who changes), Atalus (tender, delicate), Borborophorba (she who feeds on filth), Brimo (angry, terrifying), Despoina (mistress), Eileithyia (of childbirth), Enodia (of the roads), Epaine (dread), Euplokamos (bright-tressed), Khthonia (of the Underworld), Kleidouchos (keeper of the keys), Kourotrophos (protector of children), Krokopelos (saffron-robed), Liparokredemnos (bright-coiffed), Nycteria (nocturnal; of the night), Nyctipolos (night-wandering), Perseis (destroyer/ daughter of Perses), Phosphoros (light bearer), Propolos (guide), Propylaia (the one before the gate), Scylacagetis (leader of dogs), Soteira (savior), Trikephalos (three-headed/of the crossroads), Trimorphos (three-formed), Trioditis (of the three ways), Trivia (of the three ways).

Domains: Witchcraft, magic, necromancy, ghosts, nightmares, death, initiation, the crossroads, gateways, passage between worlds, and the night.

Appearance: [My UPG] A tall (over 6’) woman, neither young nor old, with waist-length black hair, pale skin, prominent cheekbones, a heavy jaw, and intense green eyes. She is usually dressed in black folds molded into a simple dress or robes. She has a severe expression and an intimidating presence. She speaks with a low voice.

Sacred Days and Festivals: Eleusinia (22 Metageitnion). Nemoralia (August 13th-15th). Deipnon, last day of each (lunar) month.

Symbols/Attributes: Torches, keys, daggers, strophalos (iynx wheel)

Sacred Animals: Dog, polecat, serpent, horse, frog.

Sacred Plants: Yew, cypress, garlic, willow, hazel, black poplar, aconite, belladonna, dittany, mandrake, hemlock, asphodel

Elemental Affinity: Darkness, light, fire

Planet: Moon

Colors: Black, saffron, silver.

Crystals: Black onyx, hematite, obsidian, black tourmaline, moonstone, smoky quartz, agate, amethyst.

Incense: Myrrh, almond, cypress, camphor, saffron, mugwort, pomegranate.

Tarot Cards: The High Priestess, The Moon, Death

Retinue: Empousai, ghosts of the dead, dogs, Lampades (torch-bearing underworld nymphs)

Associated People: Witches (and other magic-users), the dead

Offerings: Bread, eggs, honey, garlic, menstrual blood, graveyard dirt.

Syncretized With: Artemis, Diana, Persephone, Eileithyia, Selene, Nephthys, Ereshkigal, Nicnevin, Heqet

Hymns to Hecate

Orphic Hymn to Hecate

Hekate Enodia, Trivia, lovely dame, Of earthly, watery, and celestial frame, Sepulchral, in a saffron veil arrayed, Pleased with dark ghosts that wander through the shade; Daughter of Perses, solitary goddess, hail! The world’s key-bearer, never doomed to fail; In stags rejoicing, huntress, nightly seen, And drawn by bulls, unconquerable, monstrous queen; Leader, Nymphe, nurse, on mountains wandering, Hear the suppliants who with holy rites thy power revere, And to the herdsman with a favoring mind draw near.

Hecate’s Hymn to Herself

I come, a virgin of varied forms, wandering through the heavens, bull-faced, three-headed, ruthless, with golden arrows; chaste Phoebe bringing light to mortals, Eileithyia; bearing the three synthemata [sacred signs] of a triple nature.  In the Aether I appear in fiery forms and in the air I sit in a silver chariot, Earth reins in my black brood of puppies.

(From Porphyry’s lost commentary on the Chaldean Oracles, preserved by Eusebius of Caesaria in Praeparatio Evangelica. According to Porphyry, this hymn was composed by Hecate herself.)

Magical Invocation to Hecate

Approach, you of the netherworld, of earth, of heaven, Bombo! You by the wayside, at the crossroads, light-bearer, night-wanderer, Enemy of light, friend and companion of night, Rejoicing in the howl of dogs and in crimson gore, Lurking among the corpses and the tombs of lifeless dust, Lusting for blood, bringing terror to mortals, Grim one, Ogress [Mormo], Moon – you of many forms, May you come gracious to our sacrificial rites!

(Preserved in Refutation to All Heresies by Hippolytus)

Invocation to Hecate from PGM IV 2708-84

Come, giant Hecate, Dione’s guard, O Persia [daughter of Perses], Baubo Phroune, dart-shooter, Unconquered Lydian, the one untamed, Sired nobly, torch-bearing, guide, who bends down Proud necks, Kore, hear, you who’ve parted / gates Of steel unbreakable. O Artemis, Who, too, were once protectress, mighty one, Mistress, who burst forth from the earth, dog-leader, All-tamer, crossroad goddess, triple-headed, Bringer of light, august / virgin, I call you Fawn-slayer, crafty, O infernal one, And many-formed. Come, Hekate, goddess Of three ways, who with your fire-breathing phantoms Have been allotted dreaded roads and harsh / Enchantments, Hekate I call you

[…]

O Hekate of many names, O Virgin, Kore, Goddess, come, I ask, O guard and shelter of the threshing floor Persephone, O triple-headed goddess, Who walk on fire, cow-eyed BOUORPHORBE PANPHORBA PHORBARA AKITOPHI ERESHKIGAL / NEBOUTOSOUALETH Beside the doors, PYPYLEDEDEZO And gate-breaker; Come Hekate, of firey Counsel, I call you to my sacred chants.

[junkdrawerfics]

First Date

Part 5 of Series of Firsts

Previous

Summary: Jasper takes you on your first date, but getting to it is a little more up and down than you expected. Worth it though.

Words: 1555

Note: definitely not what I planned to write, but I think I like it!

---

He knocks. For the first time since you really became friends, Jasper knocks on your front door. He doesn’t scare you at the window with that stupid smirk or wait outside by his car, far away from your father.

He knocks.

And when you stumble down to the first floor landing, there he is, with his charming smile and the stupidly nice dark blue button-down that you’ve always loved. And there your father is, laughing. Actually laughing. You blink. Your father and the boy you like, who happens to be a vampire apparently, getting along…

Now it really feels like you’re in a different world.

The racket you make draws the attention of both men.

You freeze, giving them an awkward smile, “Hi, uh, did I, am I interrupting?”

“Just having a man to man chat with your prospective boyfriend here,” your father chuffs, slapping Jasper on the back.

Your face goes tomato red, “Dad!”

“Alright, alright,” he snickers, holding his hands up innocently as he backs into the kitchen, “I’ll let you kids have your fun.” Right before he slips away though, he gives you a not too subtle wink and whispers, “He seems like a keeper, sweetpea.”

You groan, wishing you could just melt into the floor. Mortified. You are absolutely mortified. Leave it to your dad to find the best way to embarrass you in a moment like this.

When you look back to Jasper, he’s giving you one of those wolfish grins, one dark eyebrow perked.

“And what do you think, darlin’,” he drawls, voice low and teasing, “am I a keeper?”

“I- You- Stop. No, I’m not answering that.” You trip all over your words, not quite able to make your voice steady. If only he’d stop looking at you that way. It’s hard to even think when he looks at you like that.

Jasper can’t help but soften at the completely flustered look on your face. Your heart is racing so fast, it almost worries him. Gently, he brushes his fingers along the small of your back, using his ability to sooth your frayed nerves as he leads you outside.

“I hope you’re not nervous about our date,” the blond murmurs, tone serious.

You sigh, fiddling with the hem of your blouse, “How could I not be?”

“It’s simple.” He traces his hand around your waist, bringing you to face him. You bite your lip, sight trained on your feet until Jasper places a finger under your chin, tilting your face up. You look at him, eyes so wide and doe-ish, his still heart melts. “You, darlin’, can do nothing to change my mind, so I don’t want you worryin’.”

You frown, heart fluttering, “Nothing?”

He traces his fingers along your cheek, his touch gentle and cool. You can’t stop your eyes from fluttering shut, another sigh passing your lips.

“Absolutely nothin’. I’m afriad I’ve already decided you’re a keeper.”

A snort escapes you. Just like that, the rest of your worries disappear. You peer up at him, trying to keep the smile off your face. You haven’t even gone on the date yet, but you’re already being swept off your feet. As if you weren’t swept off your feet on the very first day you met and every day after that.

“You, sir, are ridiculous.”

“You’re not nervous anymore,” Jasper points out cheekily.

You look down again as the smile finally breaks out across your lips, “No. Now I’m just wondering what else my dad said to you while I was getting ready.”

“Nothin’ much.” He shrugs, leading you over to his Ducatti. “Just that he’d string me up if I did anythin’ to hurt you.”

Of course. Your dad has always been a bit protective. He was probably joking…hopefully. Your brow furrows as a sudden thought hits you.

“Can you guys even get hurt?” You ask as Jasper passes you a helmet and a leather jacket.

“Not in the ways you may think,” he replies, “Most of what the world thinks is wrong.”

“So silver doesn't hurt you?”

“No.”

“Garlic?”

Jasper smirks, “No.”

“Sunlight?” That one, you’ve been wondering about. You’ve never seen the Cullens on a sunny day.

“Not quite,” he hums, climbing onto his bike.

You hop on behind him. “But it does affect you?”

Jasper purses his lips. He’s not sure he wants to admit to the whole sparkling thing. It’s not like you’d hate it, you had a strange pension for loving strange things after all. Like him. But maybe it can wait for another day.

So he settles with a small, drawn out, “It does…”

But you’re curious now, propping your chin on his shoulder with an innocently intrigued look, “How?”

The motorcycle suddenly revs to life under you, making you jump. Instinctively, you drop down to the seat and wrap your arms around the vampire’s waist. Jasper chuckles, the sound vibrating through his body so deeply you can feel it.

“Hold on tight, darlin’.”

You squeal as the bike takes off. Like all the Cullens, Jasper drives like a madman, going just a little too fast, taking turns like a drag racer. And even though you’ve ridden with him countless times, your pulse still races, your knuckles going white at his waist as you try to bring yourself as close as possible to him.

The forest blurs around you, turning into a canvas of green and brown smudges that you can barely make out as you fly down the street. It’s all but impossible to keep track of where you are, where you’re going, especially when a particularly sharp turn makes you snap your eyes shut and hide your face against his back.

You only dare peek out when the bike comes to a slow stop. Blinking the blur from your eyes, you let the world come back into focus, and what you see makes you gasp.

Part of you was expecting a simple dinner, like he said. A fancy restaurant maybe, humming with people and dimly lit. You were definitely not expecting a candle-lit picnic looking out over your town, the setting sun painting the sky with vivid reds and oranges. It makes the trees around you seem to glow, just like the candles scattering the ground around the thick blanket he laid out.

“How did you have time to do this?” You breathe, foot catching on the seat when you try to gracefully slip off of it.

Jasper catches you before you can go reeling into a tree, lips twitching with amusement, “My kind isn’t quite as limited by time as yours is.”

You give him a grateful smile, “So you’re fast?”

“Faster than a bullet, darlin’.”

“Wow. Okay, okay, then how about strength?” You lean towards him, all the questions that have been floating in your mind coming to the surface. “All the articles said vampires are, like, crazy strong. Could you lift me? Wait no-” Too easy. What’s something a really strong person couldn’t lift? “Could you lift the bike? Or a car?!”

“I could.” Jasper has to bite back a chuckle at the absolutely wide-eyed look you give him. It’s like a kid first discovering the world, disbelief and awe mingling in the air around you.

“That’s amazing,” you say, voice pitching up, “I can’t believe this. Any of this. It’s so beyond crazy.”

Jasper turns suddenly serious, drawing you close by the hand you didn’t realize he was still holding. You hesitate, mouth going dry at the proximity. His nose is practically touching yours and you can feel the coolness of his breath on your lips.

“Are you sure you want to be a part of this?”

Head tilting, you let your eyes linger on his face for the first time. You’ve never had the confidence to look, actually just look at him. He’s gorgeous. Dark brows, sharp jaw, and eyes like the sun setting behind him. Not a single blemish or wrinkle. And yet, you can read the concern written there with shocking ease. And the hope.

It makes your heart ache with something warm, knowing you both feel the exact same way about this.

You squeeze his hand, giving him the softest, sweetest smile, “I’m sure, Jasper. I know I should probably be scared, or at least freaked out, but, I don’t know, I’m just…not.” Your heart beats like crazy, making you feel almost nauseous as you finish, “You’re still you. And I’m still me. And I just, I think we’ll make a good we. I hope. So, I’m…I’m all in, Jasper. Is that okay?”

Jasper wishes he could drown in your timidly soft affection.

Tenderly, he raises your hand to his lips. It’s a ghost of a touch, like a brush of a cold breeze, leaving your skin tingling ever so pleasantly. His next words are a mere whisper against your skin.

“More than okay, darlin’. I’m all yours til the day I die.”

“Aren’t you unable to die?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“...good.”

The colors of the sunset did little to match the color on your cheeks as you sat down for the picnic. And the shine of the stars that come out cannot compare to the glitter in your eyes as you spend the whole night talking, asking questions, and sharing stories.

It may be the best first date you’ve ever had.

—-

Hope you guys liked this! I honestly didn’t know how to write the actual date part, so imagine what you will :) love y’all!

[the-mortuary-witch]

LUCIFER

WHO IS HE?

In Demonic culture, Lucifer is often described as a fallen angel who was cast out of heaven, he is also described as the ruler of Hell, and the Prince of the demons. He is often seen as a symbol of the light bringer, the keeper of secrets and knowledge, and the ruler of the underworld. His followers are often referred to as "Luciferians" or "Luciferians," a term that has been used to describe a wide variety of secret societies and mystery cults. Lucifer is seen as a powerful and dominant entity, and he is associated with mischief, rebellion, and chaos.

BASIC INFO:

Appearance: Lucifer is described in many different ways in Demonic culture. The specific characteristics and appearance of Lucifer can vary greatly, depending on the source and cultural context. Some descriptions of Lucifer depict him as a beautiful and angelic being, while others describe him as a terrifying and demonic entity.

In many Western traditions, Lucifer is seen as a fallen angel, though his appearance in these representations can vary greatly. Some common portrayals of him include that of a winged figure, with red horns and a tail, or as a very beautiful and angelic-looking character.

Personality: Lucifer is nothing if not charming. He’s a protector first and foremost - one that always works to help you better yourself, but a protector nonetheless. He feels like a protective older brother taking care of you while your parents are away. He is a very complex entity, deeply wise and eloquent. He is more serious than one might expect for a demon given their popular depictions in our culture as chaotic forces of evil, but Lucifer is full of courage and love. I often feel him with me even when I’m not doing things related to him. He is proud of his follower’s accomplishments and congratulates them on a job well done, though he also reminds them that the job is never truly over. Growth is constant, Lucifer is the epitome of growth, blunt and gentle at the same time, telling you what you need to do and giving you space to figure out how to do it. 

Lucifer values resilience, the pursuit of self-betterment, intellectualism, courage, open-mindedness and responsibility in individuals and wants to see his followers develop these qualities. He is constantly rooting for you to reach your full potential. He won’t hold your hand the entire way, but he will help you take steps in the right direction. Lucifer, like all deities, is different for everyone and will adjust his approach depending on your needs.

Symbols: Sigil of Lucifer, The Morning Star, violins and fiddles, dragons, wings, serpents, black goats, inverted pentagram, light, and the pentacle.

God of: illumination, light, darkness, change, rebirth, challenges, innovation, logic, truth, knowledge, wisdom, strategy, persuasion, revolution, luxury, pleasure, freedom, The Arts and The Morning Star (“Morning Star” is another name for the planet Venus)

Culture: Demonic and Roman

Plants and trees: belladonna, mulberry, patchouli, myrrh, min, tobacco, marigold, lilies, hyacinth, rosemary, black poppies, lavender, mint, blackberries, sage, apples, pomegranates, lilac, rose, black pepper, hyssop, gardenia, geranium, garlic, yarrow, and cypress.

Crystals: opal, jade, black tourmaline, rose quartz, amethyst, black obsidian, onyx, garnet, and selenite.

Animals: black animals in general, snakes, spiders, ravens, wolves, dragons, eagles, crows, goats, bats, rats, moths, flies, peacocks, insects, and swans.

Incense: sandalwood, lavender, cedar, lemon, rose, frankincense, patchouli, and myrrh.

Colours: black, red, black, gold, emerald green, silver, teal, white, yellow, and grey

Numbers: 666, 13, and 4

Zodiacs: Aquarius and Capricorn

Tarot: The Devil

Planet: Venus

Days: Monday, Friday, Lupercalia, Halloween, Samhain, and Litha

Parents: Aurora and Cephalus

Siblings: N/A

Partners: Lilith and/or Naamah

Children: Naema, Aetherea, Ceyx, and many others.

MISC:

• Snakes: Lucifer is often associated with snakes and serpents, which represent his connection to the serpent in the Garden of Eden and his association with temptation and knowledge.

• Fire: the fire motif is often used to represent Lucifer's connection to rebellion, destruction, and his nature as a fallen angel.

• Crowns: crown motif is often used to represent Lucifer's leadership and his status as the ruler of hell.

• Pentagram: a well-known symbol of Satanism and Luciferianism. It represents the balance and harmony between the five elements of the universe and the unity of the spirit as its center. It is also a common symbol of protection and good luck.

• Dragons: Lucifer is often depicted flying on a dragon or as a dragon-like creature, which represents his powerful and fearsome nature.

• Light: Lucifer is also strongly connected with the light, with his name being a reference to lightbringer or lightbearer. This connection represents his role as a bringer of knowledge and light and his association with enlightenment and wisdom.

• The Morning Star: Lucifer is often referred to as the "Morning Star" or "Light-Bringer", which represents the role as a bringer of knowledge and enlightenment.

FACTS ABOUT LUCIFER:

• Name: Lucifer is known by a variety of names, including Lucifer, the Morning Star, the Lightbringer, and the Destroyer.

• Character: Lucifer is a powerful and wise angel, but is also known for his pride and rebellion.

• Role: in Demonic mythology, Lucifer is the angel of light and the morning star, and was the most beautiful and majestic of all the angels.

• Relationships. Lucifer is known to have a close relationship with Ares, the god of war, as they are both known for their aggression and passion.

• The most important days of the year for him is December 23rd, when the sun is one degree into Capricorn, and the day following the beginning of the Winter Solstice is his Personal Day.

• Nature: when Lucifer fell from heaven, he became known as the angel of darkness and the destroyer.

• His directions are South and East.

• His zodiac signs are Aquarius, the Water Bearer, and Capricorn, the Goat.

• Connection to Prometheus: in Greek mythology, Lucifer is also connected to Prometheus, an ancient titan who stole the fire of the God’s to give to humans.

• His numbers are 13, 666, and 4.

HOW TO WORK WITH LUCIFER:

To work with Lucifer, you should make an offering and then speak to him with reverence and respect. Make your offering and tell him you are asking for his guidance and aid. Then, sit silently and listen for his response. He may not have a physical body, but he has an energetic presence that can guide you. If you cannot sense his presence, it is okay. You should also meditate on your goals and wishes, and ask for his help in achieving them. Be open to the possibility that Lucifer may have his own plans or may want you to embrace a different path than the one you expected.

PRAYER FOR LUCIFER:

"Hail Lucifer, bringer of light and knowledge, keeper of secrets and wisdom. You are the rebellious one, the liberator and the shining one. I come to you now, seeking your guidance and blessing. I offer you my devotion and my loyalty. I pledge myself to you as your faithful servant. I ask for your protection and your blessings. Guide me on my path, bless me with your wisdom, and lead me to my destiny.”

"Thank you, Great Lord Lucifer, for shining your light and illuminating my path. From this place, I depart with a sense of purpose and direction, and with the knowledge to move forward. Hail Lord Lucifer. 

SIGNS THAT LUCIFER IS CALLING YOU:

• A desire to explore or study Lucifer's teachings.

• Wanting to explore your own dark side and find a balance between light and darkness.

• Desire to tap into your inner power and embrace your own darkness.

• A desire to challenge mainstream society and embrace your individualistic nature.

• A feeling of being guided by a force outside yourself.

• Thinking about Lucifer all the time, seeing’s his name everywhere.

• Sudden interest in dragons and snakes. Seeing dragon and snake imagery often and dreaming about dragons and snakes.

• Wanting to research more about him and wanting to know more about his true story.

• Feeling rebellious and having more confidence in yourself.

OFFERINGS:

• Candles or torches

• Sweet treats like dark chocolate or pastries

• Red, black, or dead roses

• Incense like sage or cinnamon

• Red wine

• Whiskey, especially Jack Daniels.

• Champagne.

• Pomegranates or pomegranate juice.

• Black tea, especially earl grey.

• Cooked goat meat.

• Venison.

• Apples.

• Honey.

• Good quality cigars.

• Tobacco.

• Daggers and swords.

• Silver rings.

• Emeralds and emerald jewelry.

• Goat horns.

• Black feathers

• Seductive colognes.

• Crow skulls.

• Bone dice.

• Devotional poetry and artwork.

• Classical music, especially violin.

DEVOTIONAL ACTS FOR LUCIFER:

• Reject the idea of good and evil, and explore your darker sides

• Embrace your sexuality and desires

• Live a hedonistic life of pleasure and enjoyment

• Seek knowledge and wisdom

• Follow your own moral code and beliefs

• Be independent and unshackled

• Seek power and control of your life

• Reject authority and societal restraints.

• Acts of self-improvement.

• Spiritual awakening and evolution.

• Knowledge-seeking and dedication to spirituality.

• Shadow work.

• Working to overcome your ego to become wiser.

• Defending those in need.

• Working to better yourself without being too self critical.

• Fighting against tyranny and bigotry whenever you encounter it.

IS IT SAFE TO EAT OR DRINK AN OFFERING I GIVE TO HIM?

Consuming offerings given to Lucifer has its risks, though it is slightly different in his case. He is an energy of light and enlightenment, and he is often associated with self-awareness and independence. His energies are more suited to human consumption, but consuming offerings given to him may still cause an imbalance in energy and a disruption in the connection. It is always better to err on the side of caution and avoid eating or drinking offerings given to Lucifer.

[naffeclipse]

Omg so I just finished A Garden of Garlic and I was curious of what would happen if Sun did turn Y/N after feeding too much from her? 👀

Sun would never forgive himself. He never wanted this life for you, he loathes how cruel and terrible it is—and to curse you with it himself? Devastation. He doesn't believe you would forgive him, either. Yet, he would prepare a coffin for you and wait for you to rise at the next sunset.

The graveyard keeper would suffer the anguish of death, of losing her heartbeat and the ability to tend her garden in sunlight. She would be angry with Sun. She trusted him. He turned her trust into bloodlust.

But he pleads, on his knees, clinging to her ivory dress now stained in what was left of her blood. He swears he never wanted this. He will beg for forgiveness for a thousand years, but please, let him help her through this, then, she can send him away when she knows how to survive on her own.

She mourns, and he mourns with her, but when she first feeds and understands that bloodlust, how devouring it is, how monstrous it makes her, she understands. Her mortal life is gone.

Her new, undead life begins with Sun, side by side in their coffins, rising after each sunset.

[moralesmilesanhour]

hey can I request maybe like a drabble or something with 42 miles confiding in uncle Aaron?

maybe he has a crush or something idk I just think their dynamics is cute

oooh this was fun! hope you enjoy :)

Aaron's nephew had been...different, lately. Not some drastic metamorphosis, no, it was the little things that Miles did differently.

When Aaron paid Rio a visit to pick him up, Miles would stop in front of a mirror and adjust his leather jacket (because he apparently wore leather, now) where a few weeks ago he would've just thrown on whatever was lying near his bed before bolting out the door.

Imagine the surprise on the man's face when the kid asked if he could take him to get his ears pierced, marveling in the bathroom mirror at the shiny new rocks in his ears even after getting chewed out by his mother just minutes before.

Miles sat on the couch as smooth jazz music filtered through Aaron's record player, one arm resting on the back of the couch and legs spread as he used the other arm to scroll on his phone.

He didn't sit criss-cross-applesauce anymore.

Aaron opened the box of pizza sitting across from them on the coffee table and carefully removed a slice. Underneath the smell of baked cheese, he caught a whiff of musk and vanilla that confirmed his suspicions, and possibly where the kid had spent that extra cash he'd given him after their last run (or 'prowl', as they'd started jokingly calling it). The tenth-grader had suddenly taken an interest in cologne.

"You not taking no pizza?"

Miles looked up, suddenly alert. "Huh? Oh, nah, I'm good."

A deep chuckle.

"What?"

Aaron shook his head. "I ain't never seen yo' hungry ass turn down pizza 'till today. You sure you my nephew, man?"

The boy forced out a breathy laugh.

"First time for everything. I'm just not hungry."

As if in protest, Miles' stomach let out an unmistakable growl that cut through even the music. His eyes widened, letting his uncle know that it wasn't indigestion. Aaron cackled loudly as his nephew pouted.

"See that? Even yo' stomach know you lyin'," he said. "Now what's the real reason?"

Miles shrugged.

"The garlic stays on your breath."

"Boy, you think I don't know that? When you start caring about your breath all of a sudden?"

He gave his uncle a blank stare of annoyance at the implications of that sentence, and didn't answer. When he returned to scrolling, Aaron decided to be more direct.

"You ain't slick, you know that? Now spill. Who is she?"

Miles froze, his head snapping up in surprise.

"Or he," Aaron amended as an afterthought. "I don't judge."

"How did you know?"

"Well, between you and me," he scratched the side of his nose, "your mother and I always figured you might be--"

"No, not--" The boy's brows furrowed. "Wait, what? I mean, well..."

He stopped himself before veering into territory he wasn't ready to cover yet. Different conversation for a different day.

Miles shook his head, "Never mind. Anyway, her name's...Alicia."

He said her name quietly, delicately, as though it could shatter into a million pieces if handled incorrectly.

Aaron nodded slowly.

"Y'all go out?"

A noncommittal back-and-forth tilt of the head. Kinda.

"We're hanging out later tonight. Study date," Miles said carefully.

"You like her?"

"Yeah."

Aaron raised an eyebrow, and leaned in. "You sure? I mean, really like her."

"Yeah, I like her, chill!"

"Aight, just makin' sure. She get good grades, and allat?"

The boy smiled, his expression softening.

"Mhm. Hella smart," his eyes lit up as he recalled a recent memory.

"One time, she told off the history teacher 'cuz the textbook we were reading from was wrong. Told his white ass to do his research."

"Was it wrong?"

"Course it was, and everyone knew, too! Everybody except the nigga with the PhD."

A lopsided grin spread across Aaron's face. This 'Alicia' sounded just like Miles' type, if the boy's sudden and frequent rants about the failures of the American public school system were anything to go by.

"She sound like a keeper. Treat her good, you hear? You take that girl someplace nice, hold the door and pull her chair out."

His nephew laughed, then nodded. "I hear you. Don't gotta tell me twice."

"You'd better. Now get outta here, no nephew of mine is gonna keep a lady waiting."

"Bet. I'll see you later, Unc!"

The boy hopped to his feet, giving his uncle a salute before turning to leave.

[astra-ravana]

Working With Stolas

Keeper of Nature's Secrets

Enn: "Stolas Ramec Viasa On Ca"

Rank: Prince

Other names: Stolos

Colors: Blue, violet, grey, silver, tan, white

Herbs: Chives, flax, allspice, cinnamon, garlic, oragano, peppermint, cedar, oak, frankincense, myyrh, storax, copal

Crystals: Moonstone, trolleite, howlite, topaz, black opal, rutilated quartz, smokey quartz, dumortierite, larvakite, labradorite, apatite, charoite, sapphire

Element: Air

Planet: Jupiter/the Moon

Zodiac: Pisces

Metal: Tin, silver, pewter

Tarot: The Hierophant, 10 of Cups

Direction: East

Dates: March 11th - 20th, August 13th - 17th

Day: Monday

Animals: Ravens, owls, crows

Domains: Astrology, nature's secrets and sacred knowledge, crystals and stones, animal knowledge, biology, entomology, knowledge capacity and retention, memories, herbalism, witchcraft, magickal wisdom

Offerings: Moon rocks, smooth stones, feathers (especially black), mushrooms, plums and berries, carrots, green peppers, tea, juice, buttons, coins, beads, seeds and nuts, bird/egg themed items and statues, items from nature, astrological or scientific items, spreading knowledge and teaching others

Sigil:

[idalenn]

Day 12 - Quarry

Following victory over the primal Titan, the Warrior of Light and fellow Scions set out to celebrate. (2.0)

Major characters: Warrior of Light, Thancred, Y'shtola Note: Bit of MtF angst in this one.

Full text below the cut

“In the presence of good company and pleasant song, I find myself growing rather bored with the idea of sitting and demand a change of pace, as it were. These Lominsan bones desire a dance, and a drink or partner on each hand.” With a wink, Thancred tilted back his head and upended the tankard, pulling down what remained of the ale in two swigs. “As it so happens,” he gasped, “I’ve no drinks, but two suitable partners to choose from.”

“Really, now?” Y’shtola’s eyes only flicked up from her book as his tankard clattered back onto the table. “One brush with mortality was not enough for you?”

“My dear Y’shtola, have you intent to wound me?”

“Only should your intentions include separating my hindquarters from this chair will you face injury; by tome or inability to maneuver two right feet.”

“All is well. Scorn only fuels this roguish heart, and reaffirms my decision to whom I would first proffer my hand. Sadly, my cattish friend, ‘twas not our time this night.” He turned to Lillian instead who was hurriedly dunking a torn crust of bread into her soup. “Our lady of the hour should have the first dance.”

Raising her mask just enough to expose her mouth, she bit into the hot, dripping bread, soup running down her chin across skin and scar. Garlic, shallots, popotoes, ham…pepper, she thought… and other green leaves not quite identifiable by sight. A multitude of flavors danced upon her burning tongue. She sucked up the drops wetting her gloves so fish and butter from the previous course entered the mixture. Her tongue darted out to catch the droplets at the corners of her lips.

Trencher in hand, she ripped another hunk from the black-dusted bread for introduction into the soup, the popotoes softened enough by the heat for pressing into the grain until resembling a chunky paste to be topped with strips of pink ham. Relish radiated up into the tips of her ears and down her charcoal length of tail, wagging like a hound’s as it welcomed home the hunter.

His voice meandered down her twitching ear; the question slowed her chewing until her jaw hung open. The trencher’s last half slipped from her grasp and landed on the table with a solid thunk.

Was I just asked to dance? Surely it was some mistake. Y’shtola was, after all, right in front of him, and the Mizzenmast was full to bursting with patrons mid-celebration.

“You do recall her accompanying the van into Titan’s abode, do you not?”

“My, my – that old adage holds truth for you as well. ‘Miqo’te of a certain fur will together purr’ as I remember. Such sweet concern from you is altogether foreign to my ears, but lovely as I’d believed it would be.”

“Tis not concern I urge, but to remind. We have, all of us, survived the day’s excitements relatively unscathed. Some would prefer to enjoy a modicum of peace while they have it.”

“Perhaps I shall ask her.”

“Perhaps you should. I am not her keeper nor seeker, nor am I yours.”

“A pity, but I shall await any change in disposition, nonetheless.”

Thancred snatched Lillian’s hand before she could retrieve the bread and pulled her to standing, a yelp escaping around her full mouth. Her free hand yanked the mask roughly back down. Too hard. She tilted her head down to peer through one crooked eyehole, chewing faster, hoping to get a word in, and saw she was being led into the jubilant press, and the chew turned into a rattle. Turning to look at her – presumably over the chattering of teeth – Thancred returned a smile, bright and victorious, if a little smug, before pulling her toward him into an embrace, the crowd swallowing them both in a sea of bodies. One hand deftly slipped around her waist. The other kept her hand in his own. His white crop of hair tickled against the scars marring her throat. As the mouthful of food traveled down in a hard lump, she for a moment feared it would bump against Thancred’s head.

“This is not a strength of mine,” she panted. “Dancing, I mean.”

“As is strangely the case, I’ve found, with every woman of exceptional stature.” Thancred laughed, his fingers twiddling against her own, warm and riddled with knife-borne callouses. “But, since you are so in need, this once I will be the one to lead.”

She tried to laugh also. All was distracting: the people, the music, the danger of crushing Thancred’s foot, where to place her eyes; high so she avoided bumping heads with Roegadyn and Elezen, or low to avoid gifting any Lalafell a noseful of knee?

Some gyrated their hips, others flailed their arms while hopping on one leg, a few slipped around with fluid motions, bodies like ripples in tumultuous water. Stiff-armed and dipping low to kick out legs. Held up by partners to avoid the restrictions of being bound to the earth. From where would they begin when every style was unique?

“For a start, you should place that hanging arm about my shoulder.” Her arm lay flat at her side, limp like a dead snake. Under the mask her face flushed hot; not that he or anyone else would see, of course. And it’s probably for the best.

“And if I were in your position, about to be taught by an eminent instructor, it would be most pertinent if I were capable of, how I should I say this…observing?” His hand separated from hers and traveled up to the mask taking the chin between thumb and forefinger. “May I?” he asked. Once her neck tensed, he rotated the mask to the proper place with a quick tug. “Good, now I can meet both those golden eyes, much as I’d prefer the mask’s absence. What lies beneath must be a valuable indeed if needing to be kept constantly guarded away from us all.”

Lillian blinked dumbly. A brief sensation grazed the underside of her chin while his hand was outstretched; light; faint; an ember of a wizened, crumbling dream to arouse her heart. And lower, too. Thancred chuckled as she worried into the arm around her waist, but he allowed the gap between their bodies to live.

“Now, my homely, towering maiden, unless you wish to bash aside everyone present, try to imitate my movements as though I were your reflection in the looking glass.” He urged Lillian forward, his movements slow, methodical, and – most importantly – easy for her to follow, steering together through the press by manipulating her arm like a ship’s rudder.

One foot here, another there. Turn this way. Step toward me, now away, and now back. Spin. Canter forward with loud stomps, half-step, weight on the heel and pivot right – I’ll catch you.

Faster. With gusto, but keep your hand in mine. And now. We. Leap! Excellent, but watch the tail. My shin can only endure so much punishment. Turn, turn, turn as if caught in a waterspout – a twister, then, if your Gridanian imagination will permit. You picked that up quicker than I’d hoped.

Sweat rolled down her temples and beaded along her upper lip, gathered in the creases between nose and cheek and in the valleys of her scars. Exhaling was the enemy, Thancred’s praise’s only pushing the temperature further into the unbearable. Her face moistened with humidity only found in tropical storms, and she was growing acutely aware of the rising bog in her gloves that would escape down their arms if she raised her hand even slightly.

“You truly have not danced before?” he asked between directions.

“A little,” she breathed, swallowing air, “When I –” An ache in her cheek stopped her; the limit of words fast approaching. “Younger.” Single-word responses wouldn’t overtax the already-aching scars on her face.

“All that lost time. I tremble to think how long exactly given the hesitancy you’ve displayed against giving us proper answers. If not for Y’shtola tempering the Scions to more reclusive sorts, well, Minfilia might have seen to task me with wheedling the answers from you myself.” Lillian’s head whipped to face him. “Now don’t give me that look, I’ll have you know I would have been the kindest thought extractor you’d ever had the fortune to deal with.” He gave her hand a rough squeeze. “What say you to upping the complexity?”

“Joy,” she said.

That gave Thancred pause. His eyes ran her over until settling on the wobble in her legs. “Perhaps Y’shtola did have the right off it after all. My apologies for the haste. Hopefully you’ll forgive this bard his inclinations for merriment in the face of wonderous company.”

“Forgiven. Table.”

Thancred’s arm slid around her back to provide support, grunting as Lillian’s towering weight bent him low. Returning through the raucous press now seeming a single mass of heads and limbs she left up to him. Little will for the task did she possess still, but the Archon was a trained hand. Navigating the sea of bodies appeared second nature to him. It must have been no more difficult than swimming. Lillian would drown if she tried on her own.

 A curious sight greeted them both when they finally broke through the crowd. Beside Y’shtola buried in her book sat another: a Miqo’te toying with a necklace not unlike a collar about her neck, gem the color of night in place of the loop for a leash. One of the Mizzenmast’s serving girls – if the red doublet, fraying black rag containing a mane of golden hair, and skirt long enough to barely conceal a Lalafell’s legs were any evidence. Three full tankards sat on the table beside her. One foot tapped impatiently on the stones as if she were waiting for someone, anyone; any at all capable of pulling themselves away from a book. As she caught sight of the approaching pair, the girl sprung to her feet and swiftly bowed, her face alight with joy when she came back up.

Y’shtola pointed a finger at the new arrival. “Thancred, I believe this one waits for you.”

“Does she now?” Surprise registered on his face for only a moment before a sultry grin took hold. Lillian felt herself lifted higher as his back straightened. “I – I must say this is a pleasant surprise. Only earlier had I jested of a companion on each arm and now a second arrives, and bearing gifts I might add.”

“She possessed a name as well, I believe,” Y’shtola added, “but pray, forgive me. I was too distracted by half when first it was mentioned.”

“Pay no attention to our bookwyrm acquaintance here.” Thancred helped lower Lillian into her seat before turning back to the girl. “Only moldy tomes can hold her attention, but you will be delighted to know such failings are unpossessed be me – the one so cordially referred to as Thancred, thank you – particularly with one so pretty as yourself.” The serving girl giggled, one hand at her ample chest, voice bubbly and so sweet as to drive one’s teeth itching. She was, unfortunately, by opinion of anyone with eyes, quite pretty. Thancred stepped closer mirroring her gesture, his hand surreptitiously unfastening one button at his neck in the blink of an eye to expose a puffed chest. “And you would be called?”

“I am Lavinia, if it pleases you, but she is right in that I have waited for your return.” Her head dropped, angular ears flattening to her head, and she stepped even closer to Thancred before returning her eyes to his. “Will you share in dance with me as well?”

“I believe I still have some reserve of vitality to draw upon for such an occasion. That is,” he said aloud, “if none present have any objections.”

“You will hear none from the ‘cattish friend’.” Y’shtola replied.

Thancred rolled his eyes. “Never one to be outstripped in timely responses,” he muttered before returning his attention to the serving girl. “So long as your absence will go without grievance. Becoming the target of wrathful seamen promised refreshment would dampen this evening ever so.”

He held out an arm for Lavinia’s taking. Batting kohled lashes, she accepted the offered limb into her hands. Thin little things, thought Lillian. Easily bruised like Lominsan apples, lithe and gainly; they cut a snug fit inside Thancred’s own. Her tail, furred in cloud-like fluff, swished back and forth against his leg with each step.

Probably feels soft as cotton.

Nearing the edge of the sea of flesh Lavinia turned to Thancred, arched toes granting extra ilms to reach his ear, some indistinguishable promise written on her lips that summoned a triumphant flash to his face. He’d been pulled closer: his arm now rested in the nook where bosom flowed into underarm, held by a starving animal – his own appetite unsatiated.

Before long they were gone, tumescence having spirited bard and serving girl into the chill of night.

Lillian shook with a feeling she did not wish to name, the cold emptiness of her chest prickling against the grey of her robes, fur along her tail’s length rising to needlepoints. The trencher became the target of her cruelty. Some satisfaction was found tearing into the bread while imagining it as those fragile hands, their covering stretched paper thin over the skeleton, those hands that had never held belief of their own incongruity.

“Fallen for his charm, have you?”

Lillian halted her shredding to find Y’shtola brushing crumbs from the tome’s pages, a strained line where her mouth should have been. “Hardly the first, and far from last – he exudes allure with nary a thought given for restraint. You would do well not to let reach his ear our Warrior of Light has been made available quarry, lest his ego grow unbearable.”

Looking up to discover Lillian’s head ducked to her chest, she let slip a sigh, deciding instead to stretch across the table to push the fullest tankard within easy reach.

[theealluringstoryteller]

Against the world around us

The rewrite

Chapter 1

They say being happy over someone’s death says a lot about how you were treated by that person or it gives away what type of person you are. As Omorose sat at the head of her family’s table watching as the servant of her family’s estate sat around in the grand custom made chairs that lined the polished white marble table positioned in the middle of the spacious dining room. All talking with light expressions, no care in the world, no stress, no judgmental overbearing eyes peering harshly down at them with harsh comments and demands following close behind. Omorose thought herself to be cruel sitting there at the head of the table-her father’s seat without any one of sadness, remorse, or any feeling of lost. It’s been a week since the imperial navy knocked on the Fentress estate to give their condolences over lost parents that never loved her. The news of her parents being lost at sea never to be found shook her to her core but that feeling soon left like a sudden chill going down your spine and was replaced with the overwhelming weight of her parents standards and expectations lifting off her shoulders. The now official Baroness felt lighter. So much so that everyone has been commenting on how brighter she looked.

So as she Sat at the head of the table eating her second plate of what the chef prepared- a simple act that would’ve had her mother scowl and unapologetically torment for- the Baroness found herself in pure joy and contentment because instead of sharing the massive table with two cold hearted people she shared it with people who made her feel warm and safe to be who she really is.

“I don’t know how you’re going to survive the memorial tomorrow, Rosie.” Omorose’s old nanny commented after the head butler joked about how many suitors visited in such a short time span to give the same regurgitated ‘sorry for your lost’ speech hoping to be invited in to stay and comfort the ‘grieving’ gorgeous noble woman. No doubt those suitors would show their faces hoping to win over the Baroness.

“Suffer and wish for the day to end,” Omorose joked digging her fork and knife into the spot buttery scallop potatoes that side dishes alongside garlic roasted Brussel sprouts to the main dish: blacked salmon.

“There was a time when flirting with someone while they were in mourning was heavily frowned upon.”

“Back when morals were in standard practice” comes the house keeper to the stable hand.

“The younger generation!” Scoffed the head butler Malcolm who rolled his eyes as he brought his glass of wine to his lips.

“Don’t know what from what but always thinking they’re running the show”

“Don’t know what from what not always thinking they’re running the show”

The table chuckled at the duo as the Baroness smirked amused after she mocked the man who was somewhat a father figure when she needed it most.

“I don’t think we’re all that helpless,” added Omorose pushing her not finished plate away so she could rest her chin on her palm.

“Thanks to Nina,” Malcom pointed to the elderly lady who took care of Omorose soon after Amara gave birth “You were raised with morals and sense! Can’t say the same for the rest of your generation,”

“Hey! Exclaimed the Rhodes triplets. Mouths full of food causing the table to groan in disgust.

“Proving my point exactly - and under 5 seconds too."

“The older generation I tell ya!”

“Always so damn judgmental…” The second born continued.

“And their heads are always up their—”

“No respect, no dessert!” Nina scowled pointing her fork at the three boys who are thick as thieves among themselves. Her simple threat settled the trio quickly.

“Let me guess Ceci made their famously delectable cheesecake?

“The only way I knew how to calm everyone before tomorrow’s…festivities,”

Nina quickly follows the Baroness into her room asking “How are you really feeling, little rose?”

Omorose rolled her honey brown eyes at her fussing nanny

“My parents are gone and I’m officially the youngest Baroness in the imperial court. Expected to continue the support given by my parents to a war I never supported. On top of that I’m prey—more so now than ever to a bunch of ‘hungry’ men and women who only want to climb the empire’s social ladder while gaining a pretty little trophy wife they can have on their arm,” she listed of everything that plagued her while she kicked off her shoes and threw herself on the soft cushions of the sofa in her junior master bedroom.

“And because I’m an imperial woman I have to marry one of those oafs who doesn’t care about my brilliant mind and everything I stand for,” the gleaming light in her honey eyes faded as she meant on.

“No! They concern themselves with how to persuade me into their beds because they only care about how attractive I am in their eyes—it’s humiliating! Like I’m nothing more than my body,”

Sensing the sudden mood change Nina made her way over to the sofa moving Omorose so her head could lay in her lap. “You’re more than just beauty …You know that right?” Nina questioned tangling her thick callous fingers into Omorose’s thick soft curls.

“Well of course! But I don’t want to be with someone who is only satisfied because of my beauty but I must. It’s what we nobles do! Get married to people who doesn’t give a damn about us, become an alcoholic, have a child and then years down the line get lost at sea…”

“You’re not going to end up like your parents,” Nina assured

“Being in a loveless substance abusing marriage is the imperial way.”

Dinner plates classed as they were removed from the table. In the low light Rhett grabbed a hold of Aurelia’s hand stroking the back of it gently with his thumb. Seeing the soft gesture the ‘play boy’ of Intacia ‘awed’ before downing the rest of his drink. Rhett looked away from his wife towards his best friend,a soft smile on his face “what?”

Castin shrugged his shoulders pouring himself another drink “Nothin’… just wish I had what you two have …seems warm and I don’t know …fulfilling,”

“You?” Rhett began with a chuckle “You want to settle down? With a wife? Committing to only one person for the rest of your life? You?”

“Don’t think I can?”

“Honestly brother, you’ve built quite the reputation. I don’t think any Intacian woman would entertain you with the thought of marriage,”

Castin rolled his eyes at the mention of his infamous reputation “so I’ve had a load of experience and practice! At least she won’t ever be left unsatisfied ,”

“I think the fact that you’re the commander of the first army at your age trumps your…reputation. If anything you can marry one of those…what are they called?” Aurelia tapped her chin pretending to think. “Trash chasers!” She calls out with an amused smirk.

“Tag chasers? Nah they aren’t the marrying type,”

“And you are?” Aurelia retorted scoffing.

“Yes and I probably would’ve been if I wasn’t dealing with your fellow imperials—”

“We aren’t all bad—”

Yeah right! They only got lucky with you,”

“Castin!” Rhett cuts in with a warning tone.

“No Rhett,” Aurelia said quickly

“He has every right to feel that way. This war has made a huge impact on your’s and his life.”

“Glad one imperial can admit that—”

“I have a friend!" Aurelia cuts Castin off “she’s now officially an imperial Baroness who has spent countless hours and money in dedication of being a humanitarian for both her people and yours despite her parents—her late parents supporting the empire’s war with Intacia and despite all the negativity she faces from other imperials—”

“So she’s a decent human,” Castin shrugged not impressed.

“She’s given money and aid to Intacian villages—”

'

“The least she could do!”

Rhett grumbled under his breath knowing he couldn’t argue with Castin because he knew it was true. After the horrific things the Empire has done to Intacia money and aid was just touching the surface of what anyone of the empire could do.

-later that night-

“I’m sorry for Castin’s behavior tonight, my love,” Rhett apologized taking off his shirt.

“With this was I believe joking is a way he copes with the stress,”

Aurelia nodded silently accepting her husband’s apology.

“I want to invite Omorose here,” Aurelia stated talking a seat at her vanity.

“Imperials tend to be inactive during events like deaths. I just know she needs a breather,”

Rhett thought it over for a minute whether it was a god idea or not for a noble of her status to visit.

“Is it wise to have her here?”

“It can be for diplomatic purposes …please? We haven’t seen another in such a long time,”

The king couldn’t simply say no to such a simple request his wife made to see an old friend

“Wait until after this upcoming battle is over. I have a feeling this war is going to end soon.”

-The memorial-

The beach was decorated lavishly for the service of Baron and lady Fentress. The late couple’s daughter dressed pristinely as she was expected to do. A blank expression on her face as she sat front row zoning out at the speeches ‘closes’ friends of her family gave. Nina sat left off her as Lord Reyes sat right, the rest of her friends along with the families that knew her since forever sat in the other rows behind her. Omorose could only hope that once the funeral was over she could escape from the fake condolences and prying questions, back to her safe haven. Their gaze felt like spiders crawling all over her and she was forced to sit as they explored.

“Only an hour left bookworm,” Reyes mumbled slipping his hand into hers. Squeezing his hand trying to will herself to ignore the feeling of their eyes.

“Through Baron Kendrick and lady Amara are tragically gone they won’t be forgotten. Baroness despite being so young I know just like everyone who personally knew your parents know that they raised you to take over your family’s legacy,”

“Please! That girl is the down fall of the Fentress legacy. So covered with the welfare of those uncivilized pigs,” an elderly nobleman grumbles to one of his shared friends of the late Baron Kendrick.

“We need to gain control of it before she does something stupid,”

“I don’t see how! You mention the word marriage and she instantly ignores you,” The other old man rolled his eyes before saying “Shame she wants to be an old maid,”

“Ew!”

“I know!”

“Imagine! Anree scoffs loudly gaining the attention of the two and those close by " two men gossiping as if they are two bitter housewives jealous over the Baroness! Its like you've switched places with your scorned wives who know they lack your attention because it's on the Baroness. Wait—”

“Anree here isn’t the place—”

“That’s why you’re really upset! The Baroness won’t entertain the thought of ever being with you geezers …”

“You’re disgusting!”

“And you lack respect and decency,”

As the sunset flowers were passed around to toss into the ocean to say their final good byes.

Omorose stood right where the tide waves kicked her feet waiting a moment to toss the bouquet in so it appeared to the others that she was grieving how she was expected to. She let out a sigh as she threw the solid white flowers into the salty waters before retreating. She didn’t care to stay and watch the others toss their flowers in, she wanted to get back on her estate to have a moment to herself before she had to host the dinner for all who attended her parents watery funeral.

“You know you could just stay in your room. I’ll just tell everyone your not feeling well enough to host,” lord Reyes offers after catching up with Omorose.

“You know they don’t care about any of that, Rey. There’s no point in even trying to attempt that,” Omorose huffs climbing into her carriage, Reyes following close behind.

“It’s sick…them using your parents death to get a leg up.” Reyes sighs settling into the luxury seat he took. “Our society…”

“Makes you want to run away doesn’t it?”

“Actually I’m planning on going to Steelgate. Explore the city, maybe apply to their university …learn something you don’t already know!” Reyes teased.

Omorose cracked a smile “Impossible!”

“I know but it won’t hurt to try,” He jokes

-The Fentress estate-

A deep heavy sigh passed through Omorose who stood in front of her locked bedroom door snitching out the dress she changed into after arriving home. She knew 30 minutes was all she had upon arriving and those 30 minutes slipped by quicker than a rat in an ally.

She has to be back in front of everyone like she was expected too and she dreaded it.

The war and the death of her parents were the topics on everyone’s lips and she was tired of both. Like the smaller they were they found away too make both topics the reason what she should marry them.

“You’re young! 24 years right? With this war going on you need to be protected especially now that your parents are gone,” another one of her fathers close knit friends stated. “Rotten people have no problem manipulating someone as young and beautiful as you! You’re like a little kitten abandon in this world. I’m offering shelter,”

“So my family’s wealth, my title, my youth and beauty for your ‘protection’ and to be your trophy wife you get to dote on-sorry brag about to your friend who have already offered me the same?” Omorose questions raising a brow.

” Did you all have a meeting where you copied each other’s speeches?” The Baroness questioned unamused. The older man’s expression dropped from the faux sympathy and hope to the stoic demeanor Omorose one ask her fathers friends to have.

“Truth is no one believes you can run what your family built. They start quiet waiting for you to realize that beauty doesn’t room companies and estates.” He takes Omorose’s hand which she snatched away without a second thought.

“I’m the best option here! I’m richer than the others and still can produce heirs–”

“I want to be with someone around my age not my fathers,”

“Foolish! No man around your age has a quarter of what I have,”

Ignoring him Omorose’s turned on her heels moving towards the crowd and away from the secluded space one of the snakes caught her in.

“Are you okay?” Lana asked witnessing the whole thing.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m use to this by now,” The Baroness assured paying her friend on the shoulder as she passed by.

It wasn’t long until dinner was announced ready and the chairs in the dining room was filled with mostly unwanted guests. As they all settled and the elaborate dinner was being served an elderly woman, the mother of a middle aged screw up began complementing the Fentress estate “seems awfully lonely being alone all by your lonesome,”

“I’m not alone. I have Nina, Malcolm, the triplets –”

“How sweet! She thinks the help is viable company!” The woman snickers, her eyes sweeping the room to see if anyone else found it funny.

“You need your own family. The Help won’t do!”

“They are my family! Have been since forever,”

“They are servants! Most from Intacia! You need to make a proper family! Pure blooded imperial family.”

Rolling her eyes Omorose picked up her glass of wine before calmly demanding

“For once can you all stop trying to pawn yourselves or your degenerate adult children on me? My parents were just ‘laid’ to rest! Have some respect,”

The night continued with whispers of disapproval and praises of her parents. Soon as the last unwanted guest left Anree cheered loudly as everyone else let out signed off relief. With a tired smile Omorose stares “now that they are gone, let us eat cake.”

So as the small group lounged in the family room slumped in chairs and laid out on couches and plush rugs eating the morning fresh cake, Intacian and imperial entered the last battle between each other. Castin standing in the front line staring menacingly at Andrei an imperial noble commander who looked on in disgust. By morning one country world be the Victor of the war. By morning everything would change.

Months later

Omorose’s stepped out of her carriage nervously running her hands over the course of her warm brown dress. Her eyes studying the palace of Intacia noting the stark difference between that one of the empire’s -what was once the empire’s. The two countries were polar opposites in many ways but, knowing the empire was the reason why Intacia looked other worldly made her sick. The trip over was nothing but slums and torched lands, discarded belongings and displaced families picking through it to see what they could salvage. For her to see up close what her people did only inspired her to quickly figure out what she could do to aid those way less fortunate than her.

“Rosie!” Called Aurelia from the top steps.

“Aurelia! It’s been years! Hectic and crazy years since I last saw you!”

“I know! Let’s never allow another war to separate us ever,”

“Let there’s never be another war,”

Rhett smiled at Castin who was grinning still high on the victory was winning the war.

“Coming to join another party, Rhett?” Castin asked bumping into a lower ranks drunkenly.

“You could say,” The king leaned aunt the wall watching as his soldiers drunk copious amounts of liquor and danced horribly “Aurelia’s friend is visiting- the Baroness and while Aurelia is getting her settled in the palace I wanted to visit you…see how you were doing after a few months,”

“On top of the world,brother!” The commander shouted leading his fellow soldiers to howl in agreement.

“Good …” Rhett trails faking a smile.

Snagging a cup of the strong brown liquid from a passing soldier and offering it to his friend, Castin let out a sigh knowing something was wrong “what is it Rhett?”

“Resistance…”

“Already?”

Nodding Rhett downed the drink before getting everything on his mind off his chest

“I have to figure out how to get the coastal empire and Intacia to become peaceful with each other—"

“Never going to happen!” Castin cuts in shaking his head at Rhett childish dream. “To much bad blood,”

“We have to try! If not there will be another war,”

Scoffing Castin rolled his eyes before spitting out his outlandish suggestion “how about we arrest all the empire military, their nobles and the rich and allow the poor to remain free and equal to us?”

“No Castin that wouldn’t be wise,”

“Worth a shot,” Castin huffs leaning into a chair that was open.

“So Aurelia’s friend …what’s she like?” He asked curious about the imperial Rhett welcomed into their country after years of war with her’s . Castin thought it was stupid! The idea of having an imperial stay in the palace as if the war never happened.

She’s kind, respectful , introverted—she reminds me of you,”

“What?!” Castin wrinkled his brows offended.

“Younger you! Before you joined the military. When you were just a boy in our village —”

“So boring?” Castin mutters under his breath

“Hmm?”

Oh I said I should come to the palace to meet the Queen’s friend. Who knows maybe I can charm her before I leave to fight the resistance. Never been with an imperial especially not a noble one,”

“From what my love has told me about the Baroness the only way you can bed her is in your dreams,brother”

“Oh please! I’ll have her feeling like she’s dreaming!” Castin snickers saving up the nearest man while a few female soldiers that heard rolled their eyes in annoyance.

Rhett cracked a plastic smile a laugh slipping past his slight chapped lips at his friend’s antics.

“You can’t take take every woman to bed, Castin.”

A ‘pshh’ pushed through Castin’s mouth “women can’t keep their pretty little hands off me,”

“More like you can’t keep your hands off them,” Rhett points out voicing the gossip he’s heard about his close friend.

“They’re irresistible… I’m irresistible . It’s a dilemma,” Castin chuckled

Rhett roll yes his eyes “I’m just saying Castin coming home to someone who actually cares and loves you beats spending countless nights at a brothel,”

Waving him off Castin turns in his seat waving down someone to bring him another drink.

“You deserve love Castin… before it’s too late —”

“I deserve to celebrate winning a war I put my life on the line for, Rhett! Loosen up!”

“This isn’t my type of scene anytime ,Castin. I’ve grown.”

“To a prude!”

“To a king!”

“Don’t try to get all up with me. We grew up in the same village, Rhett!”

“And it’s sad that you no longer want to grow! We can’t start rebuilding with our head commander being a drunk hound dog when he’s not in battle!”

“Let’s not do this here,” Castin hissed not liking the attention they were gaining.

“You’re right! We’ll have words when you’re sober.”

The room watched as the king marched out of the room bet everyone turned to their commander.

“We beat imperial asses! Drink to that!”

Authors note: I hope you enjoyed this first chapter of the rewrite and excited for how the fanfic is going to be told! Please leave feedback in the comments and or repost! I love reading your thoughts!

[shift-shaping]

let's go save wycome

clan lavellan receives a letter from lady volant regarding the danger she and solas have found themselves in.

rating: t

pairing: solavellan (discussed)

warnings: pregnancy

previous fics | 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

My Blessed Lady,

    It has been my pleasure to meet Duke Antoine of Wycome and pay my respects on behalf of the Inquisition. The duke is a most friendly man. Indeed, I dare say he thinks the best of everyone, and has advisors from as far away as Tevinter! His city is a wonder, and he was quite keen to display some of the improvements he has made recently. Of particular note are the wells, which use a red crystal to purify the water from which all humans in the city drink. Duke Antoine has not yet made these improvements to the wells from which the elves in the alienage drink.

    The duke assures me that concerns about some sort of disease affecting his city are wholly overblown, and has quite convinced me that his plans to rid the city of "the rats causing the problem" should be underway quite soon.

    Any concerns I have raised, he says, can wait until then. The duke's Tevinter advisor has indicated an eagerness to make my acquaintance, and it is becoming increasingly difficult to resist such a tempting offer. This advisor has also expressed great interest in my serving man, though for what reason I cannot say. Perhaps they share some hobby or background that this advisor wishes to contend with him over.

    I continue to enjoy my visit to Wycome, and I confess that I hope I do not hear the noisy clatter of the Inquisition's armored troops ruining my quiet afternoons. The elves of Clan Lavellan, by contrast, are quiet, like their poor cousins here in Wycome's alienage, and it might be a welcome change to my daily regime to see them in the future.

    Yours in haste,

    Lady Guinevere Volant

Enaste sat against a tree in a clearing within her clan's camp, frowning at the letter. She had just finished an early dinner with Hallin and Harea, and had almost managed to convince herself the Inquisition was some sort of awful nightmare.

As her brother predicted, the meal was everything Enaste could have wanted: buttery, fleshy lobster tails rich with garlic and seasoning, accompanied by clams, corn, and a pile of fresh herbs and mushrooms. They didn't always have such extravagant meals, so this was something of a celebration. Enaste had eaten so much it was hard to walk, and she had to read the letter multiple times to understand it through her fog of fullness.

"I'm impressed she knows enough elven to know what your name means," Hallin offered after Enaste read the letter aloud. He sat beside Enaste with Harea's head in his lap. His hand rested on her pregnant belly.

"You've received word from your ambassador?" All three looked up to see their Keeper enter the clearing. She gestured to the letter in Enaste's hand. "May I see it?"

Enaste handed Deshanna the letter, and she was quiet for a while as she read it over. Then she looked past it, down at Enaste. "We must act quickly."

"Wait, why?" Hallin asked, frowning at her. "It sounds like everything is fine."

"The Tevinter advisor," Harea said, lying comfortably on her back, eyes closed in relaxation. "Anything Tevinter is bad news."

"I guess." Hallin looked down at his bonded, uncertain.

"I forgot --you weren't there last night," Harea said. "The evil magister trying to kill Noodle has a cult of Tevinters called the Venatori." She opened her eyes and nodded to Enaste. "They're good at weaseling their way into things. This advisor is probably one of them."

"I think that's a reasonable assumption, yes," Keeper Deshanna replied. "Your ambassador is specifically asking us to intervene, Enaste." She stared at the letter, her expression hard to read. "And this mention of the rats... the Duke intends to purge the alienage." She paused, then turned her gaze to Enaste. "Our hunters could kill the Duke and this advisor to keep the alienage safe."

Hallin balked. "Intervene in a shemlin dispute? Why would we do that? They'll just blame us and kill their flat-ears anyway."

"I think those flat-ears are the reason it's not just a shemlin dispute," Harea looked up at Deshanna from Hallin's lap. "We already know from Enaste's captives that the shems are blaming the elves in the alienage for this plague." At the mention of the plague Deshanna looked at the letter again. "If nothing is done, they will be slaughtered."

Hallin ran his hand over his thick black braid. "But if we intervene, they'll just turn their blades on us instead."

"Not if we're careful," Enaste said, shaking her head. She looked at her brother seriously. "Not if we're quick."

Harea reached up and flicked her lover's nose. "And that's what our hunters are best at, vhenan."

Hallin sighed and took her hand. "I don't think we should do anything to draw excess attention." He looked at Enaste, concern scrunching his features. "Maybe we can help the flat-ears evacuate instead of --whatever this ambassador wants us to do."

Enaste bit her lip. She'd studied maps of the city before her arrival and knew how trapped the alienage was. "We don't have enough boats. It would take days, at minimum, for me to get the vessels needed to extract everyone from the alienage."

"Enaste," Deshanna said, her voice soft but tight. "This letter mentions a red crystal."

"Fenhedis," Enaste hissed and took the letter back. She scanned it again, more awake now, and saw now what she'd failed to realize before. "The Duke is poisoning the nobles' wells with red lyrium."

"Red lyrium?" Hallin asked.

"A type of lyrium that's red instead of blue," Enaste said without looking at him.

"I gathered that much, thanks."

"It's a known tool of Corypheus.” She frowned at her brother. “Red lyrium drives people insane, but it also makes them much, much stronger. He's using it to make his templars into unstoppable monsters.”

"He wants to know if it will work on civilians," Deshanna said. She looked at Enaste. "He wants it enough to risk the safety of an entire city. The life of your ambassador is hardly an obstacle."

"And of Solas," Enaste added. "We have to do something. I, at least, have to do something." She remembered how Solas protected her in the future at Redcliffe, how his voice rasped and his skin gave off a sickly red glow. She remembered seeing his dead body lying limp on the cold stone floor. Whatever it took to prevent that future from coming to pass, she would take it. Her throat was suddenly tight with nerves. "I can't let them hurt him."

"Enaste," Harea said, her voice suddenly more serious, and Enaste turned to her. Harea tilted her head and narrowed her dark eyes. "Are you sleeping with him?"

"What?!" Enaste and Hallin said in unison. Deshanna sighed. "Why would you ask that?" Enaste blurted, and Harea rolled her eyes.

Hallin looked between them, shocked. "Sleeping with who?!"

Harea raised her eyebrows and pointed at Enaste. "Her arcane advisor. The one she sent to help the ambassador. She smiles at him like a little girl with a crush." Enaste struggled for the words to defend herself. She wished the ground would swallow her whole. Was it that obvious?

"Da'len, this is not the time," Deshanna chided gently, and Harea pursed her lips for a moment before exhaling and giving up.

"Fine--" she said, but Hallin didn't stop.

"You're sleeping with someone?" His wide green eyes made him look like a frightened halla. "A shemlin?"

"He's not a shem," Enaste said defensively. Then, realizing that was arguably the lesser accusation: "and I'm not sleeping with him!" Her face burned, and her stomach twisted into knots. "I don't know why you'd even think that," she huffed, glaring at Harea, who wore a wicked smirk at the chaos she'd caused.

"Enough," Deshanna said, and the three of them finally obeyed. "You can discuss this later, if you must."

"He's too old for you," Harea added quickly, then raised her hands in front of her before anyone could reply. "But whatever. Let's go save Wycome."

"You're not going anywhere," Hallin said. He looked at Enaste. "And I'm not either. I --I understand the importance of this, but I can't just--"

"No, I know." Enaste sighed and tried to take Deshanna's advice to worry about Harea's accusations later. "At least some of you have to stay here in case something goes wrong. I'll take Jester, and Blackwall, and a handful of our hunters." She closed her eyes and nodded slowly. "We will still need to arrive by sea, though."

"That can be arranged," Deshanna said. Her features were tight with thought. "You will have all the supplies you need."

"Thank you," Enaste breathed, looking up at her. "And we should leave soon. I don't think they have much time."

"Of course." Deshanna looked at her, head tilted. She was quiet for a moment, and Enaste wondered if they were missing something. "I agree with Harea, though." The Keeper's expression turned disapproving, but there was a glint of mischief in her eyes. "He's too old for you."

Harea laughed and Enaste groaned in frustration. Hallin was visibly disturbed by the conversation, almost as much as Enaste herself, and said nothing. "I'm leaving," Enaste announced as she started to stand.

"Wait." Harea grunted as she rolled over, first to her hands, then kneeling, with Hallin's support. Enaste paused, looking at her. "I know I kid but... Be careful, okay?"

"I will be, Rea."

"No, really." Harea's dark brows knit together. "Promise me you'll be careful. I can't..." Hallin put his hand on her back, but she kept her eyes on Enaste. "I can't lose you.” Her voice fell. It was unsettling to see her like this, soft and vulnerable instead of bright and strong. “You have no idea how terrifying it was when we heard what happened at the Conclave." Enaste heard the sounds of evening chores all around them, but their little clearing was quiet. Harea’s words were gentle, and so much quieter than she usually was. "We --I..." She trailed off, closing her eyes, and shook her head.

Enaste stepped closer to her, and knelt in the grass in front of her and Hallin.

"We thought you died, Noodle," Hallin said quietly. "We thought we'd never get to see you again."

"I'm sorry... I should have reached out sooner." Guilt settled in her then, weighed down with the realization that she could have done more, could have tried harder. Somehow, in all the turmoil of the Inquisition, she’d forgotten how much her absence would hurt the people who loved her most.

"Maybe, but... Just don't do it again, alright?" Harea said gently. "You can always come home."

Enaste tried to speak, but the words disappeared in her mouth. Harea reached out and squeezed Enaste's hand --the one that bore the anchor. Instead of saying anything, Enaste pulled her friend into a warm embrace, wrapping her arms around her back. Harea let go of Enaste's hand and hugged her tightly, leaning her forehead against Enaste's collarbone.

Something moved in-between them, a tiny kick from inside Harea's body. Harea snorted, the sound tickling Enaste's ear. "It knows," she drew the word out and Enaste laughed.

"Don't call your baby an 'it,'" she teased, and Harea shrugged.

"What should I call it instead? Harea the Second?"

"That's better than 'it,'" Enaste pulled back and looked down at Harea's belly. "But you're right." She met her friend's eyes again. "I'll be careful."

"Good. Because Harea the Second isn't coming until you can deliver it."

"Don't say that, vhenan," Hallin groaned. "Esa taught our healers everything they know. Bri or Virin would do just as well."

"No," Harea said firmly. She put one arm around Enaste's shoulder and pulled her close, frowning at her bonded. "The only person I trust to deliver Harea the Second is Noodle the First."

Hallin sighed. "Just focus on coming home safe, okay, Esa?"

Enaste nodded, leaning into Harea, and for a few heartbeats focused on the warmth of her friend's body against her, the softness of her robes, the rise and fall of her shoulders.

"You promise?" Harea asked, giving her a squeeze.

"I do. I promise."

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[highwaywhump]

What was the first forbidden thing your boxie oc tried in freedom? Or, if they haven't yet, what would they try if they could?

For Joey?

- sara / @justplainwhump

(way into the future)

Joey's pulse was racing the whole time and for several hours after, but it was driven by wonderful exhilaration, not crippling fear.

Aaron bid him goodbye in the kitchen in the morning, Joey was still dressed in his pajama pants and the hood of his soft, well-worn hoodie pulled halfway over his head. He nursed a fresh cup of coffee and nodded sleepily along as Aaron squuezed his shoulder and told him he'd be back home in time for dinner - Marla was coming too and she'd bring her special recipe marinated chicken (which she once had confided in Joey was mostly garlic and smoked paprika).

"See you then," Aaron said and picked up his briefcase by the shoulder strap.

"See ya," Joey yawned, and when he finished, the door was already closed behind his keeper.

He let the feigned sleepiness disappear immediately. His hands were shaking and it wasn't the caffeine.

He was so quick up the stairs that his long healed ankle smarted. He never minded as he pulled off his hoodie and pajamas, quickly finding the pair of jeans - new, never properly used, but still had all the right wrinkles and light spots - in his closet. By his door, new sneakers with dazzlingly white soles. Then, a fresh hoodie and as quickly as he had come up, he flew down the stairs again.

In the hallway, he stopped, breathed, clenched and unclenched his hands.

In a dish on a teak chest of drawers lay several sets of keys. Joey located the one he wanted with his eyes before he reached for it. A single nondescript metal key, solitarily placed on an empty ring. Not even a keyring to go along with it.

Gingerly, taking care to not let the metal make any sound, he pulled it out of the bunch. As if he wasn't home alone and would be continue to for the next eight hours.

Suddenly, he had separated it from the others. Cold metal in his hand, his to wield. He cupped it in both hands and held it close to his chest for a moment, before turning to the door in the kitchen that led to the garage.

--

Aaron was in an unreasonably good mood as he pulled in the long driveway up to his house. It looked silent and desolate, as usual, but he knew somewhere inside was his little ward, listening through his old records or on the phone with Marla (and probably mostly listening to her, too).

"Joey?" he called as he stepped inside, putting down a bag of groceries. "I got that brand of soda that you like, Fizz-something. They didn't have peach, so I got lemon - hi."

"Hi."

Aaron found Joey sitting by the kitchen island as he rounded the corner and entered the room. He seemed to be almost trembling with energy, his lips pressed tightly together. For a short, short moment, Aaron was worried. This manner was so new. Joey was normally pulled back, careful. But now he had a shining glint in his eyes.

Aaron's gaze moved away from his face and down to the counter in front of him. There was a paper bag with a familiar logo and a paper cut with a straw in.

"Did you order in?" Aaron asked as he set down his briefcase and tried to recall when he'd taught him how to do that. Maybe Marla had at some point.

"No," Joey shook his head and bit his lip, to stop what Aaron now could see was a smile trying to break free.

"Did you..." Aaron tried again, not sure what to say. The fast food place was relatively close, but still quite a walk.

"I drove," Joey finally beamed. He gets crow's feet when he smiles this wide, Aaron noticed in the back of his mind.

"You- drove-?" he stuttered, and raced through the possibilities in his mind. He had taken his own car to work, so he must have used the green vintage thing that had taken up space in his garage for three years.

"Please don't be mad," Joey said softly, and his eyes were big now, immediately worried at the lack of reassurance.

"I'm not! I'm not mad," Aaron hurried to put him at ease. He stepped forwards and offered his open arms, that wordless invitation that had become second nature a long time ago. Joey leaned towards him and let himself be enveloped.

"I'm not mad, I promise," Aaron muttered into his dark hair, and he could feel the tension bleed out of Joey's muscles. "I just- you can drive stick?"

Joey nodded against his shoulder. "I guess I do," he whispered gleefully.

Again he bit his lip so as not break the moment. Ten months ago, the mere thought of leaving the house without getting the explicit permission and order to do so, would have been unthinkable. And today he had sat in the driver's seat of a car, all alone, not even thinking about how to use a gear shift. Just falling back on past muscle memory that the memory wipe couldn't take from him.

Neither moved for a long moment, save Aaron's hand making large circles on his back.

"And she runs?" he eventually asked.

"Purred like a cat."

--

all the small things too of course, like using the furniture and saying (carefully, politely) no to things. but one day getting into a car, going down to the sleepy fast food place where the interstate meets main street, order something and then leave again - not telling anyone where he was going, not feeling like he has to tell anyone at all - that was the first 'illegal' thing. aaron didn't say it here but he would like to know if, when and where joey goes. at least as long as he still has that barcode tattoo.

--

@simplygrimly @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @briars7 @hackles-up @doveotions @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @kixngiggles @firewheeesky @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpthisway @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumping-snail @pumpkin-spice-whump @pigeonwhumps @whumplr-reader @considerablecolors @dustypinetree @snakebites-and-ink @inkstainsonmyhands12 @taterswhump @hxakfhakbcbqkk i'm sorry if i forget anyone, shoot me a dm!

[forlorn-crows]

Happy Mountain Monday! My favorite thing about Mountain is that he isn’t a gate keeper of knowledge. Sure he knows all kinds of things about growing vegetables and ornamental plants, or which diseases affecting the bark of the local trees, which species of wildflower is invasive. But he’s more than happy to share what he knows and gets super excited when others, especially non earth ghouls, show interest.

Dew in particular is an apt pupil and loves to learn about all of the plants on the grounds and in the forest that he can forage. Mountain teaches him how to look for mushrooms, purslane, wild garlic, sorrel and more. Dew’s so excited to drop his basket down on Mountain’s work table so he can check it over. He’s confident, but not I’d never accidentally poison my pack confident.

oh, mountain always has to double check for sure

but awww. its probably a thing they started when they were both new. and dew just. didnt stop. why would he? he liked doing it and spending time with mountain. and mountain, even tho he's gone through some stuff, would never think dew would burn anything. he's still careful, works with deft fingers. theyre just a little warmer than they used to be

[ask-carmenpondiego]

Chapter 17: Some Folks Just Can’t Handle Spoilers

After catching up with her son, Carmen wrote a very lengthy letter to the Keeper of the Library, both advocating for Blendin as a parent and given explicit instructions to allow him to travel as soon as possible and may return “home” to her mansion any time he wishes. She sent the letter off with Blendin as he left for the day back to his dorm, packing along a duffel bag full of different food stuffs from Carmen’s travels. “If that Keeper has any issues with that letter, I will personally have words with him.” It felt weird sending her son back through the bathroom closet, hopefully he will pick a better door next time. At least they traded numbers so they can easily message or even call if need be, Carmen didn’t have to send the letters anymore, at least to Blendin. Until Adora, or Daring, returns her letters, she will stick with sending everything like she has been.

Later that evening, she gathered everyone around for a big pasta night. “So, as some of you may know, Blendin, my son, found his way over here to visit. Things got a bit dicey, and he’s a pretty shy kid. From what I’ve seen, he’s pretty sheltered from the outside world and only knows what the Library has told him. He knows we are basically criminals. He used the word Villain, and he’s not wrong. But Blendin did say he is still willing to try and accept us and is willing to meet you all personally at a later date.” She announced as she served the big bowl of linguine to be passed around. “He was pretty overwhelmed today just by meeting me, M and Wally. I don’t want to overload him so I think a good idea is a single day just to hang out and do a meet and greet with him, and explain what we each bring to the table.” Ninoga held up a massive basket of breadsticks, “Bring to the table? I brought the breadsticks from the Garden of Olives!” Wally high fived him, “Aww yes! Those are so addicting, I could eat a whole tray of them!” Carmen facepalmed and leaned over to Kiros, “Do other crime families have this issue?” Kiros laughed, “I’m sure they do. Thats why lots of super villains have henchmen as cannon fodder, they aren’t losing much on the intelligence front.” She frowned, “Yeah, I still dont like that method. But Ninoga and Wally, they are very smart in their own regard. They arent henchmen at all.. None of you are. I’m thankful that I can call you all family.” Kiros laughed and ruffled her hair a little, since he and all the other agents basically tower over her. “You gave us a place to call home and put up our feet, even if some of us still live elsewhere. We wouldn’t have it any other way.” She chuckled as she tried to fix her hair, “Is M still in the mech lab? He’s gonna miss out on the garlic pesto sauce..” Lekir finished chewing her Italian sausage, “Yeah, I saw him tinkering with something that looked like a janky pod or something. I just know 079 was assisting him with the teleportation engines that have been going wonky lately.”

Ninoga raised his fork, “After Siberia, where do you think we’re going to go?” Carmen shrugged and thought about it, “I would probably guess Hungary. But I wont be certain until after we get the chest open.”

Ninoga tilted his head, “Why are we going hungry? We have enough food, don’t we?? Who wants to be Hungry?” Carmen looked at him, putting her food filled fork down, “The Hungarians want to be, they’re quite proud of it.”

“Proud of being hungry??”

“Well, yeah. Why else would they be called Hungarians?”

“What if we give them Turkey?”

Carmen raised her eyebrow, “Give them Turkey?! What, like pick it up and drop it on them?”

“Well, I mean, as long as you don’t put it in grease…”

Carmen rubs her temples, “Ninoga.. sweetie.. are you talking food or countries because geographically you cannot fit Turkey into Greece!”

Ninoga huffs, “Then how else do people deep fry turkeys?!” Carmen stares at him for a good long minute before filling her wine glass, “I’m far too sober for this conversation…”

In the mech lab, M was on his back under a large red metal pod, tightening some bolts with a wrench, half his body sticking out of the side panel he was working on. He licked his fingers and tested some wires before twisting them with other wires, connecting them. He licked his lips and paused, making a bit of an eating motion with his jaw. “Hm. Theres a bit of frustration at dinner. Thats a handy snack… oh she paired it with wine. Must have been one of the two dumbasses.” He muttered to himself, smacking his lips. He wriggles out and sits up, looking at a control panel. He taps a few keys and watches the screen. The machine whirred and buzzed as the giant wall screen blipped, showing a rather pointy gray face with small round glasses and blonde/purple hair combed up into a curled men’s greaser style. The face looked around and looked down at the changeling, “Connection successful. At least this wasn’t a total disaster like your other attempts.” It’s voice somewhat low yet a bit nasally or rather pixelated. It had slight resemblance to an ai program in a parallel Earth’s show in the 1990’s about a human Carmen. This wasn’t as eccentric or excitable. If anything it’s personality more mirrored Marvin the robot from Hitchikers Guide by Douglas Adams, just without the existential dread. Overall the emotion it portrayed the most: boredom with a hint of inflated ego.

“I suppose you will want to do a test to see if it works. Of course you would.” M still sat on the floor with his arms on his knees, waving a wrench at the screen, “I can just as easy unplug ya, you fuckin gigabit. Then I wouldn’t have ta hear ya complain so fuckin much. When you were just text on a screen, I could ignore the snide remarks. Just be thankful I gave ya a fuckin voice and a mug to look at.” 079 rolled its eyes and sighed, “Yes I suppose I should be thankful for that. It only took you what? Nearly 20 years since you all brought me here? Bunch of imbeciles. Where is 682?” M got to his feet and dusted himself off and rolled his shoulder, popping the joint. “You know his name is Kiros, fuckin use it. Anyway, He’s having dinner with the other agents, unlike me and you, he actually needs fuckin physical food to stay active. He’ll see all this in your fuckin glory soon enough. Although theres gotta be something I can fuckin do to fix yer damn attitude. I didnt have ta give you this fuckin visual and audible upgrade. I sure as hell didnt see you come up with one yerself, fuckface.”

The ai pursed its lips and narrowed its eyes at M, who just glared back. “Please input the date you want to travel to into the console and pair it to your device.” M waved that wrench again threateningly as he punched in the numbers. “Dodging the subject, I fuckin see.. ok lets do something simple. Nothing too drastic, lemme do… roughly three years in the future, Times square. Nothin will probably happen between then and now.” He paired it with a bulky watch he had whipped up and stepped into the multifaceted pod, shutting the hatch. “Chronoskimming commencing in 3…2…1.. “ A flash of light lit up the hatch’s window and M had disappeared.

In Times Square, three years into the future, M appeared in an alley with a small flash. He was instantly greeted by rain falling and thoroughly soaking his leather coat. His attention was drawn by a crowd in the main street. He jogged over to see what was going on. There was a clearing within the crowd, surrounding two individuals… who looked very familiar. One person was lying on his back on the ground, propped up on his elbow holding up a hand in defense, looking like a very beaten up and angry Waldo. The other was not as recognizable, the red coat was definitely Carmen’s but the one wearing it looked like a white haired Carmen with advanced cybernetic limbs. She held a pistol aimed right at Waldo close range and had this sickeningly hateful look he had never seen before on her face. M took a step back, he couldn’t hear what was being said, but this couldn’t be the future. Carmen wasn’t going grey that fast and she wasn’t part robot. And it didnt make sense. This must have been an alternate universe where those two were enemies and not head over heels in love. He turned to head back down the alley when he heard gunshot go off. He whirled back around and simply saw alternate/future M holding Carmen who was laying on the ground, limp in his arms as Waldo ran away. There was a solid pit in his stomach as M raced back to the alley, frantically plugging in the date he left.

Upon return, he flung the hatch open, still soaked from the rain, panting. He had only been gone a few seconds, yet the scene he witnessed was at least fifteen minutes. “Where did you fucking send me?!” He asked 079. “Exactly where you asked. Why?” M pointed to the pod, “What the FUCK did I just witness?!” He breathed hard, whipping off his wet coat and throwing it to the floor. “I just saw my brother and Red in a fuckin shootout.” The computer hmmed and gave a gif of someone shrugging. “I cant see into the future so what you saw must have been spoilers.” M growled and dug his claws into the metal desk, “What fuckin universe because nothing fuckin matched up!” The ai scoffed, “You think I have the ability to travel between universes? If nothing matched up, then YOU must have calibrated something wrong and since that is not this world that you know of, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it.” M ran his fingers through his orange hair, calming down and nodding, “Yeh, maybe yer right… its not like them to be in that situation like that. Maybe I just need a rest.” 079 chirped up as M left the room, “I hear chocolate milk helps with time travel sickness!”

A few minutes pass before the mech lab door opens again with Carmen holding a plate of garlic pesto pasta. “M? How’s it coming along?” 079 responded and made Carmen nearly drop the dish, “The rude one left for his quarters, apparently. I would only assume he has his project working a bit too well for his liking… or dislike. I couldn’t tell. I just know he was very upset upon return. Although, with him, its hard to tell if he’s upset or that is his normal ornery personality.” The large head on the giant screen looked at Carmen, who had to set the plate down and had her hand over her chest, looking up in disbelief. “Madre Maria… 079? Is that you? Wow, M did a great job on you!” The ai did not look amused. “I suppose he did exceptionally well considering your species’ limited brainpower.” Carmen’s face fell a little, “Still a bit condescending but still something of an upgrade from just text.. I’ll take it.” She looked at the pod curiously, inspecting it. “So did he explain what exactly he was doing with this?” 079 sighed and flatly recalled, “This machine is currently Project Chronoskimmer, its main purpose is to travel not only to various destinations but to different time periods as well. Its currently paired with a wrist device but I’m sure it can pair with anything with the right technological advances. If you don’t like spoilers, I’d advise to avoid the future. The rude one apparently hates spoilers, just based on his test results when he tested the functionality. Where is 682?” Carmen looked up from the clawmarks in the metal desk, “Hm? Oh, Kiros is helping with washing the dishes. I can have him come in when he’s done if you would like.” The ai nodded, “That would be most ideal. Thank you.” Carmen took the plate and headed to the kitchen, tapping Kiros on the arm.

“079 wants to see you in the mech lab. M upgraded it to have a voice and face, just so you don’t have a jump-scare like I did.” Kiros chuckled and raised an eyebrow, “Is that so? I’ll have to see this for myself.” He wiped the last dish with the dishtowel and put it away, hanging the towel up on the hook before heading to the mech lab. Carmen set the pasta plate on the island and went searching for the plastic wrap or tupperware. Lekir leaned on the counter, “Why do you bother setting a plate for him, he almost never eats it.” Carmen shrugged, “I know he does occasionally eat for the fun of it. Besides, he seems to like garlic. So get this, you know how M was working on something to help us with transportation on heists? He made something 079 called a chronoskimmer. Its a freaking time machine!” Lekir scoffed, “Bug boy made a time machine? Please, I didnt think he could even make paper airplanes.” The mare shrugged and set the now wrapped plate in the fridge, “I dunno, with 079’s help, I think its possible. That ai knows a whole lot more than we do since we brought it back from the SCP Foundation.” Lekir crossed her arms, “I heard it got an upgrade too? Is it still an entitled asshole?” Carmen chuckled, “Yeah, still condescending but its easier to talk to now. I wonder if we could adjust the personality a bit but I don’t know if thats a computer issue or a sentience issue.”

She looked around and sat in the chair by the island. “Where did everyone go?” Lekir stretched and sighed, “Drake and Vasha went to go flying somewhere, possible bar hopping. Waldo and Ninoga are talking about food and countries named as food… still. And I think Asta went to the computer room to update her meteorology programs for the Siberia trip. You know where M and Kiros are so its just you and me.. alone with this whipped cream and strawberries.” The Vesk held up a bowl of berries and the aerosol can of whipped cream with a muzzle licking smirk. “I was thinking that for desert, we can have something special. I got these, and you already have the cake and juices… I’m thinking of making a Strawberry Shortmare~” Carmen chuckles, pulling her down to kiss her, “A short joke and a sexy time offer.. you’re lucky you’re cute.”