#gertie arcane
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Hindsight is 20/20, but I don't think you needed to be psychic to guess that destroying ALL the shimmer supply was a bad idea.
In Act Three it took three whole doctors to save Vi's life after she gets slashed by a Noxian blade across the chest. Yet in s1 it took a single drop of shimmer to save Vi from the deep stab in the gut Sevika gave her without any other form of medical intervention.
There's just a really gross sense of irony that Caitlyn and Piltover at large took away Zaun's main source of medical care (as controversial as it may be), and then put it's people through a meat grinder battle while withholding such care.
It doesn't help that the meat grinder battle was useless ploy for Jayce to get close to Viktor and so a lot of people, specifically Zaunites, died for nothing.
#arcane#caitlyn kiramman#vi arcane#gertie arcane#arcane meta#on one hand there's this completely unexplored aspect of arcane#where zaun is a place that actually has developed advance technology to deal with it's ailing population#while Piltover's side lagged behind bcuz they're culture has no real sense of urgency to care for the disabled and ill#Piltover's clean and healthy environment is already a large preventative measure for it's populace so they don't race to develop treatments#and cures#but just like the overall nature of the PnZ conflict in arcane it's inclusion in the show is outright shallow and ultimately dropped by s2#bcuz the writers aren't in fact interested in it#but oh well bcuz i am#that whole finale happened without any sense of shame remorse of self awareness from anyone on the piltovan side#and that wud be fine if ANYBODY else acknowledged including the writers#srsly the only zaunite necessary in that fight was ekko and that's it#everyone else was literally set dressing
475 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not some CaitVi stans playing victim on Twitter, wondering why no one vibes with them anymore, even though they went on a spree of harassing black Arcane fans, calling them, Ekko's VA, and black Arcane characters racial slurs while pretending they [Reed and black fans] were homophobic for not liking how Cait was a cop and gassed Zaun, even going as far as to dox some fans for even daring to ship Vi with someone else (who is black). But, suddenly they feel unsafe in the fandom? Sure, Jan.
#arcane#anti arcane#specifically the fandom bc since s2 it has even been more atrocious with the racism and anti blackness#especially from jayvik and caitvi stans but more so the latter#anti caitvi#anti caitvi stans#bc why are you calling reed a “m*nkey” for calling out cait's actions and how ekko (his character) wouldn't rock with her?#using misogynoir type rhetoric bc people ship vi with gerti bc we didn't like how cait treated her? gross#and to clarify while there are people who are homophobic regarding caitvi it's important to recognize when that's happening#vs when it's just people critical of your ship bc one character is a cop and was reeking havoc on her partner and others#you don't get to weaponize homophobia against others let alone other queer people just bc you can't handle someone criticizing your ship#and going as far as to dox people over it---like get help seriously#and this is coming from someone who shipped caitvi in s1 & now while not as much can find some aspects still cute#but not with the way some of yall are acting in this fandom#it was also weird how they were acting like this fandom was a safe place prior to s1 ignoring how many black fans were#dealing with racism like it wasn't that hard to see how toxic it was from the jump#but now bc someone is critical of your ship it's a problem all of the sudden?
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Summary: After our first meeting, I knew I had to make room in my tight schedule of laziness to invite Isolde somewhere nice, but the galaxy is always full of surprises
Genre: Action/fluff/wholesome/angst
Pairing: Crae Vullscat (Rogue Trader) x Isolde (Character belongs to @meervalv0 )
TW: Foul language, fluff, bit of smut (or smut implications), heavy subject implications, hints of mental and physical abuse, reader caution in some portions is advised, otherwise you can skip to another part of the one-shot or skip it entirely
SECTION WILL HAVE "******************************" AT THE START AND FINISH OF IT
Goblin tag squad: @finchly-tintinnabulation @meervalv0 @echo-of-damnation
@cardinalcanis @artemisareia @jaghatai-khock
@druidwolf21
I know is a gif from Arcane, shut up
I didn't saw my fair lady for a couple of standard Imperial years after our first encounter; partially because I needed to complete some contracts and deals with other Trader Houses and partially because I had, mostly, ran out of stories to tell her, which was what I thought at the time the only reason she had maintained contact with me at all. Once or twice the Tear's would get a message from her broadcast, asking how I was doing or what fun adventures my crew and I had taken part of; the usual reply was a short message to basically announce I was still alive and that life had gone it's natural course without many troubles or, well, "expected troubles" more than just being shot at by space pirates or your average local Xeno that thinks you are a threat for being part of one of the largest Imperiums in the galaxy that treats their kind not so nicely. Details, after all.
I had been practicing for weeks and months on end what I wanted to say, really, I did, I even had a spreadsheet with all of the possible starters and enders to a conversation I could think of. Knowing she was more of the strong silent murder hobo type of people I asked literally every strong silent murder hobo person I knew in my ship what they would think it was a good place to take a person out for a friendly conversation....nine out of ten told me to go into a giant arena and bash some skulls in; which I was not thrilled to suggest to Isolde taking into account she was so much bigger than me that in this case size mattered a hell of a lot. Nothing convinced me, nothing was good enough for her, for what she deserved to be called and engaged with; she was more than royalty for my father's beards, she was a damn Astartes at best, an higher ranking officer at worst! I was just a stupid, insignificant little Trader that had managed to entertain her long enough to captivate her attention.
Most of all, now that I have the power of looking back at it with other perspective, I was scared she was...real. I was afraid she truly felt something for me, even if it was as little as just friendship; those who knew me well were aware of this, Gertie many times tried to convince me of just dropping the subject, to realize it wasn't worth it to take risky missions and adventures into the unknown only to have a good story to tell and register on my diaries. He was right, he knew why this whole thing scared me more than the Xenos we fought and the heretics we sacked, she had lasted more than any other past fling I ever had or ever would have after her if that chance didn't work out. Gertie and my crew had rebuilt me once, they didn't want to see me torn into pieces again.
Finally one day my crew and I were unpacking some strange artifacts we had picked up in unregistered worlds I received the message I was longing for; she would had a chance at resting, the war campaign she and her legion had been fighting on was drawing to it's closure. She had time to see me. Words fail to express the joy that came over me; faster than a mutant running away from an Inquisitor I threw whatever I had on my hands onto the cargo hold, hurried up every crew member that was packing stuff to do it faster and I am pretty sure than in all the messy crowd of the space port one or two of my retinue was left behind because of how fast I wanted to get out into the Warp and subsequently on the same region in which Isolde was going to be on.
"Can you slow down, Lord Captain, and tell me why the hell are we in such a hurry? Are we being chased by one of your crazy crushes once again? Have heretics discovered you were scamming them? The Ecclesiarchy has finally tried to indoctrinate you into their Imperial Truth?" I heard Gertie heavy breath as I ran up and down my ship looking for my spreadsheets of flirting "No! Nonononono my dear Seneschal, something much better! Lady Isolde has finally some time for herself! Out there, in some fracking system, she is actually resting and off the battlefield! Do you know what this means!?!?!" I shook Gertie in excitement "You are gonna finally carry her to your bed chambers?!?!" "Yes!....I mean no, no I will be finally able to go on a romantic walk with her!" "Ah....wait a date!?!?!?! Sir-....Sir what do you mean a date!!?!?" Gertie stuttered
I could only laugh like a maniac up to this point; as far as I understood it, every second counted if I wanted to have an opportunity of meeting Isolde again in peaceful times. It was this set of thoughts what led me to boss the Navigator around to make the longest Warp jump they had ever done in the fastest route onto Isolde current system whereabouts. Looking back, I should had thought in the inevitable consequences of that irrational order, but not even the Emperor himself would had been able to convince me of not doing it at that moment, such was my rush to get there on time.
This next part is well known by many historians that have covered Vullscat House so I won't be adding too much into the events that transpired whenever the Navigator raised a prayer to the Emperor and took the Warp jump that blew their head off by how potent it had been and that told every Daemon in the Immaterium that there were some fresh meat trapped in a vessel coursing through their realm ready to be eaten by their demonic mouths and digested on their inhuman bellies. I never payed attention to the classes on the topic of Daemons and the manifestations of the Immaterium in my Schola Administratum days so I will spare the reader from my blunt and simple descriptions of those creatures, that would had inevitably boil down to "This one was uglier than my mother, that one had the face of my sister for a moment before I blew their heads off, the one I killed next was as red as my combipistol" etcetera and etcetera.
I won't do that and, frankly, I found that travel too uninteresting to even add it to my personal memoirs, I am sure all will know it by now if the reader has ever read something else about the Vullscat's or a Imperial book detailing the most recent and extraordinary events that have occurred in the Warp.
Editor's Note: What Crae is referring to here is the infamous "Battle at the future's hells", the Tear's made one of the boldest and largest Void jumps that has ever been registered on Imperial Records, approximately traveling 27 different systems and galaxy regions in the span of two Materium days, but that took years on the Warp for every traveler that had the misfortune of witnessing and living it. Product of the long perilous journey, Daemons and one Greater Daemon of rot manifested themselves onboard of the ship, initiating a battle with the human cohort of the Tears that saw the death of 3/4ths of the crew, only managing to survive a few deck officers, Crae, his Seneschal Gertie and a Ecclesiarchy priest that would later on abandon their religion and live a life of a farmer until their final days in an Agri-World never getting over the horrors that they experienced in the ship. In addendum to that already incredible story of survival, it is believed Crae and his crew saw one of the many possible futures of the Imperium of Mankind but the man has been too stupid, or stubborn, to recollect any of what he saw on the voyage and the event is never recalled again in his memoirs; in consequence, all of what is left of that bold journey through the Immaterium are the broken recollections of now atheist former member of the Imperial Truth and the half truths of the Vullscat Seneschal, that has vowed themselves to not reveal anything and carry the knowledge to their deaths.
Whenever me and the five...ten....twenty crew members that had survived the journey exited the grasps of the Warp the Emperor blessed me and my luck once again by finding Isolde ship just as they were making the preparations for a Void jump. I immediately broadcasted to them of my arrival and the most urgent of requests to have the opportunity of seeing Isolde once again. Also because we were so short on staff I requested (begged if I have to be honest) for some of their serfs and servitors to be borrowed by the Tears as we explored nearby planets to recruit some more that could fill the ranks that had been vacant since the flesh of my previous comrades was still fresh in the walls, ceilings and apparatus of the command ship. Luckily the Ship throne had been left intact, if one could see past the Chaos corruption that had impregnated the artifact and the never-ending whispers that would stain my personal command chair for years to come; my only consolation to that fact is that the voices have passed the point of convincing me to commit suicide or submit to dark powers to just feel pity for me and start complaining about all the noise my inner voice makes whenever I am using the throne.
The ships made contact again, the ports between the two spread out so the bridges collided and the Marines formed a line like they had done in the past, standard stuff that had honestly wore off it's might once I had realized it would be a custom that would repeat every single bloody time I made contact with an Adeptus Astartes ship....fun.
As I slipped pass the Marines of the area, giving them the big ol' "I know your boss, let me through" management speech, my feet carried me to the entrance of Isolde room, I just needed to knock and let my presence be known to her. Or, well, more like letting her know I was already there, she would've been kinda told about my general arrival there taking into account I was seemingly the only human being that willingly wanted to see her in the entire ship, red flags? Pfft nah, that was a gift. So there I was, knocking three times and taking a little step back as you do your first time asking someone out, like in college or your average Astra Progenium halls just to get rejected by Margarett you fucking imbecile that had the balls to dare not take my hand to the ball and instead take BLOODY JONATHAN AND HIS SHITTY STUPID WIG-.
Like I was writing before, I knocked three times and nervously awaited for her to arrive, with her loud footsteps getting closer and closer to the door, holding tightly the little piece of paper where I had written my notes to not just stare at her with big eyes and nothing else; the moment finally arrived when the metallic door slid open and her gorgeous visage appeared in front of me only dressed with a simple robe having hanged her armor on one of the far ends of her chambers. She raised one of her eyebrows, most likely expecting me to explain what I was doing there when this sudden and very rare shyness took over my entire body. One I had never felt before, not even the first time I held hands with Margarett and confessed my love only for her to just refuse it and talk about sweet precious Jonathan having conquered her heart and soul and the prospect of getting married to that asshole that most likely cheated on her ass as it was the obvious thing he was going to do it was so Emperor's damm obvious he was just a playboy out to get her SON OF A BITCH.
Editors note: We have purposely jumped to the end of the page and audio log to spare the dear readers and listeners from the ramblings of a man that hadn't gotten over a breakup that had occurred ten years ago.
Minutes passed as Isolde kept looking at the nervous fragile tiny little me stuttering to get a word in after constantly checking my notes over conversation starters until I blurted out just before her hand could reach the door switch
"My fair lady Isolde, I have humbly cum-come to your chambers to ask of you if your highness could...perhaps...maybe" I tried to articulate as best as I could fidgeting with my fingers "Go out with me" "What use would it be to visit the decks of the ship?" Isolde asked, always the pure innocent beautiful lady "No, I uh, no I wasn't referring to literally cu-cOME outside to the hallways, I meant leaving the ship to go out into the planet we have landed on...the two of us...alone....to distract ourselves from the voyage and whatever may be troubling our souls...and...minds..."
If I had to compare my starter to those I have done before and after that day had passed, or if I had to be brutally honest with myself a Rattling high on the most wildest and spicy combination of banned drugs across the Imperium could had gotten their point across faster and efficiently than whatever had just spill out of my mouth that moment. Luckily Isolde does not remember that, she has told me she just recalls how nervous I was and how "adorable" my mumbling sounded; which credit where credit is due, I prefer she reminisces about that moment qualifying me as cute rather than an idiot.
Isolde only laughed at my comment, genuinely having fun with my stupid stuttering and confusing words, I giggled awkwardly to not make the moment worse for my reputation and extended my hand out to her as too symbolize my intentions of walking out of there with her. It would had been a good gesture, really it would've, if not by the fact my hand barely reached hers and I had to walk on my tiptoes if I wished to maintain that gesture all the way to one of her ships shuttles. My physique didn't last that long holding on to her hand, I got tired and dislocated my arm after the third step as she waved me around making my tiny little bone have a panic attack inside of me and popped out of it's intended position; I pretended that nothing had happened and excused myself as I went to a corner and bashed my arm against the wall to forcefully pop the bone right into it's original place; I screamed out of pain whenever that idiotic plan to fix that situation worked, I never told it to anyone but my arm spent months healing itself afterwards and still today whenever I move my arm I can see the bone making contact with my skin...at least it's a funny thing to brag about in parties now whenever I am drunk.
Anyways with or without my arm hurting like the seven hells of the Warp (don't look at their eyes Crae...don't remember their eyes...) we made it to one of the bigger shuttles that actually fit her large frame while leaving me feeling small, my feet were left dangling from the seat whenever I took one of the chairs close to Isolde (for comfort, of course), the only thought that crossed my mind at that point is how the emergency straps would protect Isolde quite efficiently if anything happened but wouldn't even manage to keep me on the chair as my frame was so little I could literally pass my arms and entire body between the bars with no problem whatsoever. I shook that feeling out of my mind as Isolde sighed next to me and looked down at my frame with a gaze I couldn't guess what it could've meant, but looked like if a lion or some hunting animal had their sights on me, weirdly enough.
"So...where are we going?" She finally broke the silence "We arrrrre going toooooo land in..." I mumbled as my finger passed through different name locations on the screen "Domecracka....! It has good drinks, there's a review saying their dishes are not totally disgusting and a restaurant critic just gave it three stars by the ambience alone! Perfect place to spend a good time" "And what we will do there, Sir Crae?" Isolde spoke so gently I felt like I was in the clouds "Why, dance of course! And drink too, maybe sing a few songs if we are lucky and the booths are empty today" I pressed the destination and the shuttle departed from the ship towards the planet surface "What are these activities you speak of? Is there blood to be spilled?" The lady looked down at her sword "Not at all, there we will just be able to sit back and enjoy a cold one while listening to some tunes and talk about-" I looked down at my hand where I had scribbled some prompts "Life in general!" "Huh, it will be a calm battlefield then" She murmured "Uh I think if you take battle out of that word you would be right on the money" I chuckled "What money?" "Well this is gonna be a long date..." I whispered and leaned back on the chair, seeing through one of the shuttle windows how we were about to do planetfall
I will never forget the look of awe in the face of Isolde whenever we exited the shuttle and stood in front of the big pub before us. It is what I like to remember of that first time, not the weird looks the pedestrian around gave us when passing by our side. I waved my hand to invite her to go inside, rambling on about how she was going to enjoy this and how it was now some time strictly for us; it was my way to tell her I hoped nobody, not her "battle-brothers" or serfs, would disturb us by sending messages or Vox audios through her communication systems or anything of the sort, but Isolde took that rambling quite literally when she threw her helmet out to one of the servitors at the entrance of the inn and told them to keep it until she returned for it. I simply shrugged and smiled, she looked completely out of her field there, which was a good thing, it meant she was trying new stuff.
We searched for a seat in sight of the dance floor and where the roof wasn't too low so she could actually sit comfortably. Once again there were a couple of stares headed our way from other patrons, who had most likely never seen someone like Isolde anywhere near those places. She wasn't paying attention to them however, she was looking straight at me, to how I moved, when I ordered some light beverages to kickstart the whole conversation, when I made her look around to see our surroundings and define with sights what a "pub" was and what people usually did there; she was just soaking everything up, listening attentively to everything I was saying, her head was hung low on the table to look at me better. I...I felt seen, I felt someone was paying attention to my ramblings and my words for the first time in perhaps my entire life. Gertie and the crew had their own ways to block out my words and interpret what I wanted to say, but Isolde was listening to all of the words that were coming out of my mouth, no matter how much I jumped from topic to topic.
She didn't say much at first, taking a much more passive role only listening and doing some sounds for me to understand she was still paying attention to me. I rambled on and on about my adventures, then when that had dried up I said a couple of things about the stuff I was wearing or the cargo back in the ship, I even spoke about where I had gotten the Tears and why I had named it that way. Just blurting out anything I had in my mind, anything that could be counted as topics. Isolde was just present, listening, silent, hooked. When the first row of drinks arrived at our table I realized how much I had been talking, I hadn't even given her the chance of speaking up, of commenting something by herself; I cursed when the reality settled in, I had been dumber than an Ogryn and more rude than a commissar that whole time.
"I...uh....sorry for speaking too much I-I...was so excited to be here with you that...um..." I looked downwards, ashamed of my actions "I was listening" She bluntly spoke up, leaning her head against her arms "Yeah but I didn't let you have a go at speaking to me" I coughed to clear my throat "But...I don't have anything to say, your stories are interesting, captivating" She placed a finger on her cheek "Well...you can say stuff, like whatever you want! This doesn't have to be an interrogation or anything of the sort, you know? In here you can just...talk" "What do you mean just talk? Like I don't have to wait for my turn?" Her eyes lightened up "Yeah, you can just...go to town with it!" I smiled "But how can I-" "Like this" I interrupted abruptly, making her eyes open widely "You just-" She pointed at me "I did" "Stop...stop tha-" "Interrupt me" I teased, smirking" "I-I will-!" "Too slow" "Well you aren't talking mu-" "Did it again" I leaned back in my chair as sassy as I could "I'll punch y-" Her cheeks went red "Nah, you won't" "I wi-!" "You won't!" I pointed a finger at her "Yes I w-" "Nuh uh" "Yuh uh!" I almost fell off my chair at that tender moment "Nuh-" "I will!" Her smile widened as she interrupted me "Hah! I did it" "Pfft that? That was just lu-" I smiled when I saw her opening her mouth again "Nope!" Now it was Isolde turn to have a smug smile "It wasn't" "Alri-" "Nah!!" She giggled "Excuse m-?" I pretended to act all offended
We kept on going with the banter for a few minutes, that little game between us, some little space where I felt like a kid making friends again; like if for a while the space surrounding us had faded into the background, I could only hear her voice, she could only hear mine. We were two little stars on a void of endless war and suffering, two laughs between sobs and oaths of vengeance. It was what I wanted to make possible for once in my life, just once, I felt I had a normal life.
"Okay okay...tell me something about yourself now" I wiped a tear out of my face "What is there to say? I serve the Emperor and-" "Uuuuuuuuuuuuugh boooooring" I dragged out the words and rolled my eyes back "Well what am I supposed to say!?!?" She giggled, offended "I don't know your...your brothers! Or your dad, tell me something about them" I shrugged "Well...." Isolde thought for a moment "I used to watch the older Dark Angels train with their swords and plasma rifles...I held my first weapon at, Emperor when was it? I was five?" "Alright, alright we are making some advances, that's good" I took a swig out of my glass "Now tell me something that doesn't include training or killing" "Wha-you just banned half of my life there!" She pouted "Well then fucking tell me about the half I didn't ban!" "My dad used to take me and my brother out for a walk in every single forest we ran into when he was on war campaigns" Isolde drank from her own cup and with the tip of her fingers she made little circles on the edges of the cup "I always got impatient and ran off ahead of them so they could hurry up" "You weren't too much of a fan to look at the scenery?" "No, no I was; just that Leon and dad always walked slower and got on my nerves" Isolde chuckled "Damm, that's an interesting name for a child" Crae pointed out as he grabbed his glass and was about to drink from it "It sounds almost like the Primarch" "Of course it does, Lion named him and mom named m-"
Isolde didn't got to finish the phrase before I spat all of the drink I had in my mouth to the robes of Isolde. My face turned pale, holy fucking shitting Emperor's dick Isolde was the daughter of a fucking PRIMARCH and I was about to propose HAVING SEX with her after hanging out ON A DATE. I couldn't believe it, I couldn't begin to imagine how fucked I was at that moment if I didn't immediately stand up and get the fuck out of there before it was too late and I screwed it up even more than what I already was.
Meanwhile Isolde had opened her eyes widely and looked down at her, now slightly wet, robe. She probably didn't realize what had just happened, what hanging out with me at that moment really meant, hell I wasn't even sure she could understand what that whole date was trying to imply. She had just been spit on by the man that had just made her say a good fond memory. I had to fix that too before she ripped my head off from a single punch.
"Oh for the love of all the Saints I am so sorry Lady Isolde, Mistress Isolde, venerable daughter of all that is pure and holy-" My voice began to break as I grabbed a towel and tried to help her "It-it-it's okay Crae, don't-" Isolde blinked twice "Oh sweet lady of the Angels of the Emperor I ask for your forgiveness on my intrusion of your sacred body in this terrible hour, I plead for my life if it isn't too late already, I don't have kids or a wife at home to feed but I have a little bird named Pidgey that would get mad at me if I don't return to pet it-" I began to ramble out of sheer panic, it didn't help that some of the beer had fallen on her chest area...that I was now touching "What are you talking about!?!?! Why did you change your mannerisms all of the sudden?!?!?" I think she genuinely began to worry that my brain had just collapsed inside of my head, or that I had gone mad "I-I-I....you are the daughter of a Primarch and I just got you to a bar that isn't even the best one there is around here that has some scumbags and mercenaries around oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-" My head was spinning, heart was beating faster, I had what the kids call a nervous breakdown "Crae.....Crae......" Isolde looked directly at my eyes as I was still trying to make things right "I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked-" At this point of the story I don't have any words to add, just read how nervous I was for fuck sake "Crae...I am not my father and I know where I am" Isolde spoke calmly, lifting my chin to look at her directly "I don't wanna be judged by the High Lords of Terra for treason and wanting to sleep with a Primarch's daughter I swear I just thought you were a mutant of some sorts that was just big or that the abuse of drugs throughout my younger years started to affect my perception of reality-" I was shivering
Just like our last meeting, Isolde stood up and lifted me up by the arms to her eye level, my feet were dangling in the air flailing about, my arms went limp to the sides and my eyes stared right at Isolde's. The always confident and totally cool with the ladies Crae Vullscat had been reduced to a mumbling shivering scared nervous fucking mess, not even the most retarded of Orks or intelligent amongst the Ogryns could had ever done justice or come close to the amount of shame I was irradiating from my body movements right about then. Twenty year old me would've shot himself if he had seen me at that moment. Hell even fifty year old present me would had shot myself a couple of times at that moment.
The gesture got it's results though, as my heart rate slowly went down and I took quick and shaky deep breaths to calm myself, Isolde stared at me throughout the whole endeavor like a mother looks at it's problematic child whenever they throw a fit. If I didn't care that other's were watching now I may had been able to notice how everyone including the bartender and a guy that was being shank in the corner of the inn were with their jaws stuck to the floor. As my brain connected itself again to my body, the initial fear was slowly replaced by....pride; fuck yeah I had invited a daughter of a Primarch to go on a date! I had all the charisma on the world to do it! It was coming out great actually, so why didn't the whole universe just suck it up? I was going to do the unthinkable, the stuff legends were made out of! I was going to go absolutely into town with her, might as well just have the roughest, meanest, wildest sex no human had ever gotten with a Primarch descendant and record it firmly in my brain so every detail, thrust, bite, nimble, tit squeeze, suck of my cock, a little bit of biting or choking the hell out of me could be forever in my mind to retell with the outmost detail as possible! I wanted to shout now, to howl in victory, I didn't need to go on dates and fail at them miserably because everyone just considered me a sex toy to explore and sink their little cucks into so they could suck the life out of me and only please themselves while I was left to bear the scars alone of a full life without any kind of sexual gratification and only receiving the low ends of my entire existence just so years later I could reflect I had been used and discarded time and time again until my perception of love had been completely altered and shattered because of my heavy past experiences with manipulative fucks.
Editor's note: To preserve his memoirs as intact as possible, we as editors had to include this and not censor any of the raw thoughts that bubbled to the surface. Just to show the man beyond the smiles, as a team we are not ashamed to show his reality.
Where....where did I had left the story again? Oh...yeah the excitement.
"I...you can put me down now, I'm better" I stuttered ever so slightly "You sure there are no more panic attacks or weird spacing out?" Isolde asked sincerely "I'm...sure" I blinked as she delicately placed me again on the ground, coughing awkwardly
I returned to my own chair in silence, looking down at the beer and just chugging it all down before asking for another round, to hell with it, I was just going to let it all flow just like I was doing it before. With the dizziness of the drink still in effect, I told Isolde to continue with her stories and after a moment of hesitation she did just that, telling me about her youth with her dad, the Lion no less, and her brother, the places she had visited and how closely they all were. A big family, with a big heart as well, they all seemed to get along fine and dandy; which inadvertently lead down to the one topic I didn't want to be on the receiving end of.
***********************************************************************
"So...how was your childhood? What adventures did you have?" She leaned forward, ready to listen "Well...fine...normal like any other. I just stick to go into the Schola where I could learn a few things of the trade and then returned to command the ship that I have ow" I evaded details like the plague "Oh come on I know there must be something else! I just told you mine!" Isolde flustered her eyes, much to my dismay "My little sister always tried to kill me, I just remember us playing with knives as kids and her taking it so seriously" I shrugged "She did what?" Her face turned to a scowl "Yeah, I was the heir like all firstborn children are, so that was honestly almost expected of her" "And your father just rolled with that?" She raised an eyebrow "He couldn't, he was dead" I sighed and stared at my half empty glass "What...?" Her expression changed again "Yeah...the inquisition got him by the time I was ten...I never really had too much of a connection with him, but that's what got me to the Progenium so early in life...my mom didn't had the resources for her t manage the wealth of the Vullscat's because my dad obviously didn't left a will for those things, so I was the heir until I could claim that right" "How was the Schola?" That dreadful question finally came
I stood there in silence for a minute, pondering what to say. Nobody, not even me, wanted to hear how a kid was bullied by their entire class because of the suspicions that had killed his dad, neither nobody wanted to touch or kiss a "tainted" by the Chaos creature like me except for that...woman. For whom I own "growing up so fast" at my late childhood and early teen years. I knew that nobody would believe anyways that a Sister of Silence touched by Slaneesh would ever hide amongst the ranks of the officers of a institution so important like the Schola Progenium and "punish" that child for the sins of his father. Dooming his innocence by her touch forever...
"It was...what I needed to survive" I said in a whisper as to not break down into tears "You don't have to tell me" Isolde placed a hand on mine "Thank you" I looked up at her, my eyes were wet. That touch meant everything, she wouldn't realize it until years later
I wiped the tears off from my face with the sleeve of my uniform, pushing the memories to the back of my head sighing, she didn't need to know, I couldn't spoil something like that, tell her those things on the first serious date I had with her; who would ever get a second date after dropping a bomb on them like that? Nobody, that's who, nobody.
**********************************************************************
Some time passed, unknown to me, I couldn't calculate it then and I still have troubles to do it now, I just remember the music blaring behind us, inviting daring couples to join the dance floor. That was enough to snap out from the mind hellhole I had sank into; I looked up at Isolde, who was still quiet out of respect for the nerve she had inadvertently touched by her last question, and took one of her hands and squeezed it; the faint joys of being around her returning once more to my head.
"Have you ever danced before?" I asked shaking her hands "Yes, I have, sword fighting-" Isolde blinked "Not that....dancing! You know, moving your body to the beat of the music and just closing your eyes and letting the flow get to ya?" I nodded "Oh like chanting of the veterans when they pray to the Emperor?" "....You don't know how to dance...okay let's go" I stood up from the chair and walked over to her, offering a hand "Where?" She giggled "To teach you how to dance, just follow me"
Switching to the arm I hadn't broke yet because of her "handle" of my wobbly human body, I carried her to the center of the inn, everyone watched but I didn't care, Isolde did though when she nervously chuckled and looked around; that facade of formality was completely gone, we couldn't go back to it even if we tried, there was something so unique about it all, it was a change indescribable but real, I felt it, she did too, I like to believe. The trance of her form and eyes had distracted me from the obvious height difference that impede us from forming a true duet; that sucked. So close yet so far from teaching her how to enjoy one of the most beautiful things of being alive and to be human. I couldn't allow it from separating us.
"Now what...?" She noticed our problem too, kneeing to be at my level "No no, don't do that, you can't truly feel like dancing that way...uh...one second" I raised a finger and smirked
I had watched one of the big burly boys that the local planetary system had for their defenses the moment I entered the bar, at first thinking they'll be intimidating but now some other ideas were running through my mind. I ran towards them, all cocky and sure of myself, tapped their shoulder and began to use my charming personality and the privileges of having someone bigger than him behind me as a backup.
"Oi you" I raised both of my eyebrows "What ye want" He looked down on me "I need you for something, how much you charge for the hour" It wasn't a question, I was demanding "Heh heh heh, ye drunk lad, go bother someone else" The big chunky motherfucker thought that would be enough to sway me "Look that's alright, I'll go bother that tall lady...see her? She's bigger than you and right about now she's my friend. You want me to call her here so she can ask you the same question?" I pointed at Isolde, that froze in place at the sight of being pointed at "Twenty" The man spat on the ground "Well that's not so ba-" I shrugged "Thousand credits, or beer for a year here" The big boi laughed at me, actually thinking I hadn't heard that tactic before "How about two hundred thousand big guy" I smirked
The fool didn't even let me finish the thought, just grumbled and stood up. I smiled and we walked back to where Isolde as. She was completely stunned at the sight of someone joining us, like a dandry lizard on the headlights of a roadsounder. I waved my hand in front of her to signal everything was okay, then I shifted my attention to the big guy and pointed to the ground.
"Right, sit, I need to get in your shoulders" "Ye wha-?" He started to protest "Ah, ah, ah" I shook my finger "What about your money?" "Ugh...fimsddskfine" He mumbled and sat on the ground
With the skill honed by a thousand ship boardings I jumped elegantly onto the shoulders of the man and nodded, he lifted me up with all his strengths holding me tightly by the legs; then once I had my point of balance in order I moved my left leg slightly so the man repeated the motion and took a step forward, then I did the same with the right leg and once again the man copied my moves. That is where the fun truly began.
"Isolde...I need you to take my hands" I extended my limbs towards her, trying to keep balance "Crae this is-" Isolde hadn't stopped laughing since she guessed what I was about to do, holding her belly "Just do it!" I said chuckling
Once our fingers were intertwined the lesson truly began. I instructed her that at the sound of the beat she needed to move to one side, then the other, then to the first position once again, then do a spin and so on and so forth. She slowly caught up to my instructions, her body prepared for a thousand techniques and combat stances slowly shook those learnt steps off and started to just improvise, be free on the movements of her heart and soul, soon Isolde was just a blur of white and blue; dancing around me and the guy who could barely keep up with her much to my fucking dismay. Such a beautiful moment I was catching just glimpses of because the fucker with the big belly wasn't moving at her rhythm.
"Keep up with her come on!" I grunted in frustration "OI SHE MOVES TOO FA-" "I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT, YOU MOVE WITH HER, AT HER PACE OR I SWEAR TO THE EMPEROR AND MY ANCESTORS THAT I WILL BREAK YOUR LEGS AND THEN USE YOUR WOBBLY CHUBBY CORPSE TO FEED MY CREW FOR AN ENTIRE FUCKING YEAR SO THEN YOUR CARCASS CAN BE IMPALED ON THE TOP OF MY SHIP AND USED AS A FLAG FOR ALL THE WARP ENTITIES TO SEE YOUR MISERABLE PILE OF SHIT-!" I couldn't explain exactly if I said that out of frustration or I was already too enthusiastic with Isolda to say anything else
The man just stood there silently, seemingly taking the offense very close to his chest; he kept up with the best pace he could, but the lady being a holy beautiful blessed being as just she could be, Isolde was too fast even at his best efforts. I was losing time, tempo and the opportunity to be with her. I grunted and decided to go for one of the most craziest things I had ever done...
"Isolde....catch me!" "Wha-!?!?" She couldn't go further than that when I suddenly jumped out of the arms of the man to land into her chest "What are you doing!?!?" "Just imagine I can touch the ground....! Keep going!"
Isolde hesitated at first, but then kept going. I moved like a rag doll in her arms, holding tightly to not accidentally be launched straight into a wall and turn to "Shait'e Cremieré" on contact with it; but soon enough I managed to intertwine one hand with her and then the other, squeezing her. She understood the assignment and soon enough she was holding me by the waist with one hand and with the other we were holding each other. It was like a balls...if one partner was much larger than the other one that had their feet comically dangling. We locked eyes, we shared laughs and giggles over how silly this whole situation was; under that light, the disco ball reflecting colors unto the dance floor and her face, did I saw her for all of her beauty and heart.
Those once I believed white hair showed it's true colors, I saw it blonde, her beautiful silky smooth hair looked like the sun I always wanted to see whenever I woke up to in the mornings, those two pearls for eyes she had were all the treasures I wished to have and never let go of, that strong tight grip in her hands was what I wanted to pin me in bed whenever we would love each other. I died that day, I died in those warm, squishy, beautiful, comfortable arms of hers. I would go there, write about it, talk about it and return to that moment each and every second of the rest of my life. Those precious minutes I wanted to savor and save in a bottle to never lose them.
I never will, for as long as I live, forget my first dance with my wife.
The music faded, the laughter subsided and gave way for the realization, she stopped moving and I was left there, hanging from her arms, held dearly in them. I lifted my hand with care towards her cheek, caressing it. I coughed to clear my throat and then I delivered what I think were the words that finally showed I was at her mercy forever more.
"Will you lend me the honor and privilege...of kissing you, Isolde?" "You may, Sir Crae" She replied, sweetly.
Editor's note: For as lovely as Crae describes in the next sentences this kiss, footage of that night shows it was everything but ordered and tender. In the personal opinion of the editor, it was messy and sexily unhinged as all hell.
Our lips touched like two puzzle pieces meant to compliment each other, I felt my lips slowly depart as her tongue introduced itself on my mouth, to be fair and not romantic at all I almost choked on it, really, when someone is big in height everything else is big as well so her tongue was already having difficulties to go in my mouth, could you imagine, whoever the heck is reading this, her just pushing a little harder inside of my mouth? If it wasn't for the heat of the moment I would've been trying to stop her before she choked me to death with her tongue. But as a gentleman, I resisted the temptation to stop her, only lightly pushing her so Isolde could get the idea.
Editor's note: The kiss involved their tongues, a lot of saliva, Crae in fact CHOKING for a couple of seconds, inhaling deeply and going again repeating the motion in a morbid yet fascinating display of endurance.
From there I don't know how did we got a room for ourselves, hell I don't remember how we even fit the key in their respective hole when opening the door as we were focused on each other. For not kissing never before in her life and never having these kinds of human connections, I gotta admit Isolde really was a beast on the department of giving kisses even before we practiced how to do less than messy ones after the fact. However what we did not accounted for due to her inexperience was....the intimate moments of having sex.
"Take your robe off..." I panted as I took my shirt off in one single motion "What?" She caught her breath "Yeah your clothes, we-w-we...I mean I thought we were gonna-" I left the phrase hanging "Going to do what?" That....that was a genuine question of hers "Sex? Intercourse...some people call it the horny time or hanky panky-" "Don't ever say those words again" "....Yup that was weird" I scratched the back of my head, what an idiot "How do we manage to do...sex?" She said the word like if it was in another completely different language "With our clothes off" "Then how would we....defend ourselves?" "Pffft from what?!?!?" I was trying really hard to not laugh at her innocence "If an enemy attacks...?" She implied it was so obvious "Nobody is going to attack you here Isolde, trust me" "You would protect me?" She arched an eyebrow "Well I always come ready with one envelope just in case" "You put your sword in an envelope?" "Oh yeah...." "Wouldn't it be too big to fit in it?" "Somehow I make it work" "You gotta teach m-" "Oh my Emperor you were referring to a real sword..." The realization dawning on me made me giggle for a second before biting my lower lip
There was an awkward silence that followed me almost falling from the bed after she had ever so innocently not catch the double meaning of our conversation at all....it felt too cruel to spell it out for her at the moment, it would ruin both the fun and the otherwise pretty intimate moment we were having there. Beneath all of the smirks and jokes I was still a bit afraid that the worries of Gertie and the rest about...what could happen if I actually went through with it was not the most comforting thought ever but I got rid of those thoughts when I thought of Isolde; this was going to be her first time, I had to at least make it good.
It was weird, not starting or anything of the sorts, she herself was fine, very fine, perhaps too perfect under the robes that had held her visage hidden from me. It reminded me of those old Terran books in which Xenos beyond human comprehension told some very scared humans to "not be afraid" as if seeing a ball of eyes and wings descending on them wasn't excuse enough to be afraid and pull out a bolter to start blasting. That same feeling was what I felt at the moment of seeing her naked body and her boobs; I could've cried from the happiness of knowing I was the first man seeing them but I controlled myself just in time.
I am pretty sure her amusement and awe grew too when she saw my cock though; I don't mean to brag but there was a reason I had said before I was the victim of a lot of advantages and usage of my body for purely political and ethical reasons in the past. Oh yeah, a lotta people had used my private parts to get what they wanted out of me and then discard me....what a great fucking thing to brag about I'll stop now.
Editor's note: Not commenting on if the dick measurement was true or not, this editor sincerely adds that from now on those self degrading commentaries about himself will. be censored and not included, both for the readers immersion in Crae tales and to keep a bit of his honor and figure
First impressions aside, it took a while for us to exactly get how....the events were going to play out, due to a quick study of the situation of our differences in....height tolf us pretty quickly we were gonna have problems on that department. Sure nowadays we can do it no problem knowing the ways and limits of one another, but for our first time things weren't so...clear. To make our story short and spare the details of embarrassing attempts, I asked as gently as I could for Isolde to relax and lay in bed, slightly spreading her legs and stay in that position. I aimed, like that, to please her first and then see if I could had some too, rubbing circles with my fingers around her lips to make the flow more bearable and quickly set the mood for her.Isolde responded with some faint but pretty indicative moans, telling me I was headed the right way, even when it was hard for me to tell taking into account it was almost as big as my bloody mouth.
We went well for the first couple of minutes, carrying the process slowly but gently, once my fingers were wet enough I introduced two of them, gently once again, into her insides. Isolde moved around somewhat but still managed to enjoy more than think in what we were doing. Feeling bold I made the one mistake that would end this whole chapter of our relationship in a comical yet still fond way. You see I must have triggered some fight or flight response, particularly the first part of that response, when I placed my head and lips directly on Isolde pussy; to make it "special" I thought in not telling her about this, to make the sensations surprise her in the best of ways.
Little did I know that as soon as she felt my tongue inside of her, her left leg went up to the sky, shook for one second and then came down crashing against my head. The impact made my body bounce off from the bed and down I went to the floor, managing to hear in my last second of consciousness: "Crae....? Crae???? OH BY THE EMPEROR CRA-!"
#fanfiction#warhammer fanfic#warhammer 40000#warhammer 40k#fanfic writing#wh40k oc#warhammer rogue trader#rogue trader#my writing#tw child abuse
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Welcome to the Old Woman Tourney!
In this tourney, 62 old women will face off for the title of Ultimate Old Woman! Our competitors are...
Avagon (Pirates of Dark Water)
Irene (The Mist)
Mama Coco (Coco)
Arcee (IDW's Transformers)
Eileen the Crow (Bloodborne)
Opal (Pokemon)
General Leia Organa (Star Wars)
May Parker (Spider-Man)
Toph Beifong (Avatar: The Legend of Korra)
Blanche Devereaux (Golden Girls)
Irene Frederic (Warehouse 13)
Link's Grandma (The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker)
Fortuneteller Baba (Dragon Ball)
Lucrecia Mux (Psychonauts)
The Fates (Hercules)
Fairy Godmother (Cinderella)
Grumples (Yo-Kai Watch)
Lady Butterfly (Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice)
Granny Rags (Dishonored)
Gwendolyn Clawthorne (The Owl House)
Outcast (Arknights)
The Urn Witch (Death's Door)
Matoya (Final Fantasy XIV)
The Faceless Old Woman who Secretly Lives in your Home (Welcome to Night Vale)
Ambessa Medara (Arcane)
Sadie Croaker (Amphibia)
Maria Calavera (RWBY)
Tala (Moana)
Esme Weatherwax (Discworld)
Baba Yaga
Xate Yawa (Baru Cormorant)
Crooked Rook (Pale)
Erin O'Niell (Dungeons and Daddies)
Granny (Looney Tunes)
Mama Odie (Princess and the Frog)
Kammy (Paper Mario)
Wrinkly Kong (Donkey Kong Country)
Suga Mama (The Proud Family)
Yan Lin (W.I.T.C.H)
Grandma Flexington (Borderlands)
Karin Chakwas (Mass Effect)
Rita Repulsa (Power Rangers)
Ubaba (Spirited Away)
Alice Green (Big City Greens)
Lucretia (The Adventure Zone)
Ginger (OK KO: Let's Be Heroes!)
Granny Goodness (DC Comics)
Alma Madrigal (Encanto)
Gertie Shortman (Hey Arnold!)
Faragonda (Winx Club)
Grandmother Fa (Mulan)
Jasmine Lee (The Life and Times of Juniper Lee)
Madame Foster (Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends)
Nanefua Pizza (Steven Universe)
Nana (Nanalan)
Barbara Howard (Abbott Elementary)
Wendy Oldbag (Ace Attorney)
Thora Read (Arthur)
Grandma Spankenheimer (Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer)
Erina Pendleton (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure)
Helen/The Administrator (Team Fortress 2)
Mom (Futurama)
Next week, the battles begin! Each round will last only a day, and the 31 winners will move on. The losers will go to a redemption round where one of them will be able to return.
Thank you for your patience. It's been a wild couple of days, and things are only gonna get crazier. But regardless, I can't wait to...have you vote on the elderly...
...eh. It's not the weirdest poll on Tumblr probably.
(Masterpost will also be coming soon, to help keep track of certain rounds. You'll also be able to track them through tags)
#old woman tourney#round 1#character polls#oh boy there are a lot of them so strap in for the tags#avagon#pirates of dark water#irene reppler#the mist#mama coco#coco#arcee#idw transformers#transformers idw#eileen the crow#bloodborne#gym leader opal#pokemon#general leia#princess leia#star wars#aunt may#may parker#spider man#toph#toph beifong#the legend of korra#blanche devereaux#golden girls#irene fredric#warehouse 13
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Animated Biographies
Listing down the animators:
It's not easy to find animators. To find some, I tried remembering my favorite famous cartoons and shows. And with the help of the internet, I've listed these names below;
I. Pete Michels, an American Animator, is known for Family Guy and other famous cartoons.
II. Ash Brannon, I've found him through 'Arcane,' the crazy-looking animation inspired by League of Legends. He was also an animator in toy story 2
III. Matt Groening, I've never watched his cartoons, but he is well known for The Simpsons
IV. Joe and Rita aka Artspear Entertainment, Animators I've found on YouTube. They make funny contexts on films, tv shows, and many others
V. Winsor Mccay, An Animator from the past made the first animation about a Dinosaur named Gertie
0 notes
Text
Murphy Finding His Mojo pt2
There were not many days that he was thankful to be ass level with the world, but on days when Iris wore her high waisted denim, he counted himself lucky. Iris was curvy, and had athletic legs, which meant her hips and a larger then normal derriere. She also had this strut she did, he wasn't sure if it was something she did consciously or not, where her hips did this back and forth motion, drawing even more attention to her figure.
She opened the door to the library and allowed him to enter. He noticed the elephant in the room almost immediately.
“How am I supposed to improve my commentating with Rath looming in the shadows?” He asked, seeing the yellow blonde hiding over in one of the sections near where Iris had sat down.
“Forget about her, Murphy. We're here to remind you of the game you love. I'll have you back in the booth in no time and better then ever.”
“Brilliant, Coach Rosewood.”
“Shhhhhh!” Pince hissed.
“Careful, Murphy. Let's not get removed from the library before we can do what we need to do.” Iris warned as she found a unoccupied table to sit at.
“Well then Coach, what are we here to do. Will we be studying the young witches and wizards as they swiftly skim books... Acutely noting their every page turn and stroke of the quill?”
“No, Murphy. Believe it or not, we're in the library to do some reading. I want you to study up on Quidditch History. This will help reignite your Quidditch commentating skills.”
“You know who you're talking to, right? I'm an expert on Quidditch history.”
“I'm well aware, but you never know what details and interesting tidbits you might discover.” She urged him.
“You're right Iris. It never hurts to go over Quidditch Through the Ages another read, just in case I missed an arcane Quidditch move or two in my 78 reads.”
“All right then. Never stop being a student of the sport. You can never know what you'll discover.” She opened her own book and turned her head down.
“The story of Roderick Plumpton is one of my favorites, the Plumpton pass never ceases to amaze me.” He mentioned to her, going over that part of the book. She looked over the edge of her book and just gave him a smile. “Gertie Keddle has a diary of Quidditch commentary from the year 1050, perhaps we could check that one out?”
“I don't see why not, do you want me to look for it?” She whispered.
“Do you mind?” He asked.
“Not at all,” Iris closed her book and stood up, only to bend over and pick up a quill off the ground. Murphy's eyes looked over and watched her double over, then quickly looked back to his book before she noticed him oogling her.
A few minutes later she returned and placed the print of Gertie Keddle's diary down on the table, and sat down, two books in her hands for herself.
“Did you know players once caught boulders on their heads! Then the beater was born.”
“SHHHH!” Pince hissed once again.
“Maybe turn down the volume, Murphy.” Iris warned him. He let out a sigh and went back to reading his book. Occasionally he would hear Iris make little noises of excitement or coo's of interest, which always made him look over and across the table at her.
She had picked up a book about botany of some sort, and actually had found a piece of parchment and a quill, taking notes.
Before he knew it, he looked at the clock and a couple hours had passed. He looked across at Iris and noticed she had a different book in her hands.
“What do you think Murphy? Feeling refreshed and newly inspired on your Quidditch history?” She asked when he closed the book.
“I am indeed, Iris! The story of legendary seeker Roderick Plumpton is an especially inspiring one! He famously caught the Snitch after inly 3.5 seconds! Of course, many believe it to have been a fluke, with Plumperton's sleeve being the true hero. Oh, what I'd give to have been in that Commentary Box for that moment.” He excitedly told her.
“I love the passion, Murphy, but like Plumperton may or may not have done, lets not lose sight of the task at hand. This is only the first step in Murphy McNully's quest to be the best he can be!”
“What's next, Coach?”
“Next? Hm... right, next.” Iris tapped her fingers on her bottom lip, worriedly.
“Iris, are you making this up as you go?” He asked her, raising his eyebrow.
“Of course I'm not making it up as I go! But it's important both in coaching and commentating to not be overly rigid, so I left room for flexibility.” Iris covered her tracks brilliantly
“And flexibility allows us re-evaluate based on my progress, brilliant Iris!”
“Exactly! Brilliant observation, Murphy!” Oh yeah, this was flirting at it's finest and Murphy was lapping it up.
“It's like a chaser having to break formation to dodge a bludger! Or a seeker suddenly having to change course!”
“All right Murphy-”
“Or a beater having to-”
“Murphy McNully! How many times do I have to tell you to keep your voice down!” Pince hollered at him.
“Well, this was inevitable.”
“Sorry, Madam Pince. Keeping my voice down isn't exactly my strong suit... in fact I have trouble controlling it at all.”
“Then may I suggest you go somewhere and learn to do just that.”
“That's it Murphy! I know what we should do next! You need to learn voice control and especially how to project your voice even further while announcing Quidditch.” Iris told him happily, looking like she had struck gold in a mind.
“Blimey Iris, that sounds like a dream come true.”
“Then lets head to the Charms classroom where you can shout as much as you want. It's the next step of your training.”
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Quarantinacation Days 6-7 | Trask River State Campground | Tillamook OR
We broke down and paid to camp for our first time this year @ $71 for two nights without hookups or internet or cell service but near potable water, and we are out of water - as our dishes and pits will prove - so, Trask River it is.
The campground is operating at 25% capacity per Covid so as steep a price as it may be, the upside is we also get all the sites directly surrounding ours, which suits our quarantine purposes nicely.
It’s a Buy-One-Get-Five-Free Covid Camping Flash Sale.
Come on down and get one while you can!*
*Global Pandemic patrons need only to apply.
There’s a cute river running nearby, just a short walk down a trail or a shorter slide down a bankside. P-noch and the boys spent the afternoon down there swimming and skipping rocks and eating potato chips while I laid around here, dozing in and out of consciousness, nursing my concussion and a testy bout of whiplash.
P-noch is sitting by the campfire reading his latest issue of Tape Op magazine and getting to the part of an article where the interviewer is asking Julie McLarnon (The Sundays) about why she’d never got into drugs, and she explains that she watched her bandmates go so crazy on them that it was pretty easy for her to stay far away. He’s reading parts of the interview out loud to me and then turning the page and laughing a little bit because drug addled musicians are funny when your wife isn’t currently suffering a brain hemorrhage.
There are approximately two dozen boulders dotting the edge of our campsite that serve as a perimeter to designate one site from another. Last night after maybe one too many glasses of wine I made the fateful decision to join the boys in their innocent play of boulder hopping, but, due to a fiercely competitive nature and (debatably) a bit of liquid courage, I added a twist of having “The Ultimate Rock Warrior Battle” (Dun dun dunnn) wherein two people meet upon the same rock and then must battle to get their opponent to jump or fall off (super dumb, I know this now). Anyway, when Oscar and I met on this fateful rock he gave me a decent shove right out of the gate - just as I’d always shown him to do if he were ever in the position where he needed to give someone a good first shove - and I quickly lost my balance and fell backward, making him the Ultimate Rock Warrior.
Except it didn’t exactly end there.
As I came falling down off that rock - only the single image etched in my mind of Oscar's and my eyes locking in mutual terror as I began my backwards descent - there, then, suddenly out of nowhere appeared another smaller, but very mighty boulder. A boulder that seemed randomly positioned and out of line with all of the others, which we hadn’t noticed before it lined up just perfectly with my head at this exact moment in time.
I managed to catch the brunt of my fall with my right elbow before cracking my cerebellum right on the tip pointiest top of that big dumb rock, making a sound that I couldn’t hear in the context of my life flashing before my eyes, but that P-noch now demonstrates (probably more often than necessary) by walking around aimlessly bashing an empty propane canister on various hard surfaces in and around the motorhome to really drive home the ominous sound his wife’s head made as he watched it slam against a massive rock.
He’s been doing that a lot, ever since the incident. If I happen to cross his eye-line it’s as if it all comes swooshing back to him again. And at first it seems like he’s mostly talking to himself but then like some sort of war vet reliving his onset of PTSD he’ll suddenly jolt forward in his folding chair and frantically start searching for something hard within reach that he can bash into something else, forever searching for the best skull cracking sound effects.
Immediately following my big fall, I sort of rolled off the rock sideways and landed on my right side tucked into the fetal position with my faded red sundress splayed all around me. That probably makes it sound cuter than it was. I’m sure it looked more like a middle-aged, semi-conscious chud having a stroke.
I was somewhat lucid but didn’t yet know the extent of my injuries by the time my family gathered around getting their worried little hands all over me. I could hear P-noch charging orders at Oscar to run across the street to the day use booth and find someone with a landline to call 911. He sounded really cloudy and far off in the arcane distance, even though I could feel him standing right there above me. And then I could hear my own voice saying “I’m ok... I’m ok,” even though I didn’t know yet if that were true.
I knew, at least, that they shouldn’t try to move me before I could register some movement in my extremities, but the more I thought of it the less my body cooperated. Plus, poor Oscar. I knew his panic level was about to go through the friggin roof and he would blame himself for all of it and I desperately needed to give him a sign that I wasn’t going to die.
And then a finger twitched upward. I kept my eyes pressed closed because I was too scared to open them and see the fear in my family’s eyes. I could hear a voice that sounded like mine saying, “don’t touch me, I’m okay, please don’t touch me,” and the more I heard it the more I believed it. Then the voice started coming back into my own throat again and within just a few more minutes (though P-noch will argue it was closer to thirty more minutes) I was mildly mobile again, making my unsteady, zig-zaggy passage back to the RV. Just inside the door I collapsed on the floor and burst into tears and thanked God for my life, making a million promises to never drink again… In case that still held any leverage after my twenties.
I have a concussion and a wicked case of whiplash, but, most likely not a TBI. So, who’s the real winner, right Oscar? WHO’S THE ULTIMATE ROCK WARRIOR NOW?
8.15.2021
Gerty points at the rock. Thee... Rock...
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey so below the cut is the beginning of my Western/Fantasy/Mystery story Coyote Draw. It’s a very rough draft, I’m not really trying to edit as I go so it should be readable by grammar/spelling alone (readable content-wise now that’s dubious). Tell me what you think, or tell me that it’s trash. Well, I guess if it’s trash tell me something constructive with it like “Do this better.” That’d be cool. Anon message me if that’s easier.
Synopsis: In this section Gertrude Bell and Elizabeth Cagney are introduced as members of the Hesselius National Detective Agency, a semi-international private detective firm specializing in supernatural cases. Gertrude and Elizabeth have been sent out to Sun Springs, NM to prove a potentially wrongly convicted man innocent of the brutal murder of a surveyor.
Notes: It’s probably pretty bad. The style is very brief and to-the-point and I don’t know if I’m going to stick with that. I’m not sure if it’s to brief or too long for the content that it covers. I think I should describe characters more. It starts with an animal dying. If that bothers you skip to the third sentence.
Anyway, here it is:
A few hours outside of Santa Fe the 8:45 to Springer hit a bison. The impact shook Elizabeth Cagney awake. Her companion on the trip, as in all matters, was still awake. It was too loud to sleep. Gertrude Bell thought it was funny how quick her Elizabeth nodded off. City folk sleep through anything.
Elizabeth grimaced as she stirred. Bags under her eyes betrayed a late night wasted in Santa Fe. She wished she could say it was spent drinking and gambling. It was spent reading. Drinking was a strictly a secondary venture. That is not to say that she had not drink a great deal. Elizabeth scrambled for her coffee. She held the canteen of muddy coffee so tight her knuckles went white. She whispered a bit, her eyes closed tight. The canteen popped and fizzled as it got hot. She offered it to Gertrude first.
Gertrude almost smiled. “I’m fine, I ‘spect you need that more than I do.”
Gertrude was right. Elizabeth threw back the canteen. Her face was red with pain, but she brightened up instantly. Gertrude appreciated the routine. Elizabeth always offered, she always refused. Elizabeth was always flushed. Always smiled.
“So how far out are we?” Elizabeth asked. She shook the residual heat out of her hands.
“About 3 hours,” Gertrude guessed. Her watch stopped working after a sand storm in Barstow. “We get off in Springer, then we ride the rest of the way.”
The Hesselius National Detective Agency gave them an advance to pay the thirty-one dollar train fare. They did not offer to pay 25 for a pack horse. They didn’t offer a ticket to ship Gertrude’s horse either. Gertrude never thought to ask for it.
Out in the desert flowers were blooming. Word was there was a big storm a few months back flooded most of the southern Rockies. As the train shot by there were explosions and gold and pink cactus flowers. The effervescent yellow of agave and ragleaf. A spatter of lilac Elizabeth said could have been columbine. Without much prompting she could rattle off every possible name and use for every one of those flowers. Every spell they were good for. It came with the territory. Gertrude mostly knew which ones you could eat, which ones could make a person sick, and which ones could kill a horse.
On a rainy January morning Elizabeth and Gertrude got a letter from the Hesselius National Detective Agency. The two of them had been Hessians in variously official capacities since the war. Usually they would take jobs off the board in their home office. Gertrude didn’t want to hear the message. She took the paper and sent the messenger away. She held it tight in her hand, crushing the paper and cracking the small wax seal on the back. Elizabeth had to read the letter for her. They had been called in. The Director wanted to see them personally.
“Aw hell,” Gertrude spat, “We walked headlong into this one Lizzie.” Her lip trembled, but her hands were dead still.
Elizabeth rested a hand on Gertrude’s shoulder. She brushed a lock of hair from her brow. “We’re not on the outs Gert,” Elizabeth spoke to Gertrude like a child. “It might be a job. May be a promotion.” Gertrude threw herself into her old rocking chair. The floor creaked loud.
“Listen Gertie,” Gertrude looked away. Elizabeth stepped in front of her and forced her head up. “Listen, if we get fired, we can just banish him. That old boggle won’t know what hit him. Hell, we’ll be on the outs but we might get a medal for the trouble.”
Gertrude coughed up a dry laugh. “Okay, but it better be a big medal.”
“Of course.”
“Gold.”
“I should expect nothing less.”
Elizabeth helped Gertrude dawn a white bodice and her hound’s-tooth riding jacket. Gertrude tossed Elizabeth her waxed canvas cape from the coat rack. They set out into the rain.
Cole Boggs was a squat, broad man. As a boy some poor soul must have asked him to speak up. He chose to head that advice literally, and has not spoken in less than a bellow since. For 15 years he had been the director of the American branch of the Hesselius National Detective Agency. He despised those under his employ that called themselves “Hessians,” and so almost all did.
Boggs’ office was littered with what might charitably be called mementos. On the wall behind him, between two bay windows, was a rack containing four medieval swords. Every wall was lined with mismatched glass-doored curios. Each was full of old books, tarnished jewelry, carved cubes and spheres with various arcane writings. A suit of rusted Viennese armor stood sentry over two seven foot tall safes in the opposite corner of the room. Save for three chairs and a path from the door, every horizontal surface of the office was covered with superficially valuable trash.
“Ladies?” He roared over a newspaper written in indecipherable script, “Do come in, I need just a moment to finish up here.”
Elizabeth and Gertrude stepped inside, and sat down in adjacent leather chairs. Their arms were worn through by hundreds of elbows. The leather was dry and cracking. They may have been the second oldest thing in the room.
After a moment’s pause, and without looking up, Boggs began to speak; “I presume you know why I’ve asked you to come in here.”
Gertrude’s face flushed. Elizabeth reached over and grabbed her hand.
“Now, you’re aware that our last client was less than pleased with your performance—“
“Sir allow me t’explain I—“ Gertrude tried to interject.
“Ms. Bell, please allow me to finish as I think you will be pleased by what I have to say,” Boggs filled his mammoth lungs, “but you were right. Entirely correct. Mr. Lux was indeed stealing from the town’s till, and he was indeed conspiring to use that money for nefarious purposes, though the authorities are not yet sure what those were.”
Gertrude slouched as much a whalebone corset would allow. Boggs continued; “While we were certainly not hired to have our client imprisoned, you’ve brought a spattering of good press for the agency.”
Cole Boggs finally lowered his newspaper. “We have a client in New Mexico. He has asked for you two specifically. He believes a man was wrongly accused of murder in Sun Springs. Charming little town. He’d like you to go out and prove him right.”
“Who—“ before Elizabeth could inhale Boggs barked, “Who is none of your business.”
“—Is the suspect?” Elizabeth finished. Her crystal blue eyes found Boggs’. A ripple coursed down his body, and for a brief moment something closer to his true form was visible.
“Of course. Yes. The suspect. The accused is a Mr. Balthazar Farkas. A lycanthrope. The evidence is quite damning. A surveyor by the name of Oramel Hawkins was working near Farkas’ home. He was slaughtered and dismembered early in the morning. A local magician, Grant Heston, saw the dismemberment. A local deputy found blood-soaked rags in Mr. Farkas’ cabin. Farkas has been in trouble with the law before: in ’67 he killed a Shiner who had a bounty for his hide, in broad daylight. The folks in Sun Springs remember that well. It’s a quiet town.”
“So he did it?” Elizabeth asked, sensing that Boggs was done.
“It certainly seems that way, doesn’t it.”
Elizabeth winced. “So, are we to try and get a guilty man freed from facing justice then?”
Boggs hummed, “No, I wouldn’t say that. He may not be guilty. It may be a case of mistaken identity. The murder wasn’t observed, focus on that.”
Gertrude, taking care to avoid eye contact with anyone in the room, mused, “Out in the country like that you see what you expect to see. If you’re scared of the werewolf down the way, you’ll see him when you may’ve seen a coyote or a damned cactus,” She glanced at Elizabeth. “Plenty of ways you could choose to see something when you’re looking right at another.”
Elizabeth laughed. Boggs didn’t get it.
To call Springer a town would be an overstatement verging on an outright lie. Most of the 320 acres called Springer on a map were farms. Right around the banks of the Cimarron River were a few buildings. Most of them were liable to get washed away if the river got any nearer to its banks. There were two general stores, a livery, a spattering of houses, a warehouse, and a tavern. The tavern must have been built old because no one lived here 7 years ago. Every month the trail was passable a wagon train full of copper would come in from Sun Springs. All spring and summer folks would drive their cattle and sheep out of the hills for sale.
#coyote draw#wip#for real though#it's pretty bad#it needs a lot of work#also posting this makes me really nervous#even though I know no one will read it
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mourn — a drabble of Alaia mourning Christianno
Old and re-posting to escape the re-direct and fix the music (I put the links into the part of the story they belong with)!
Anathema - One Last Goodbye
This wasn’t supposed to be happening. They weren’t doing anything, not this time. Maybe they’d just done too much bad over the years for it to matter anymore. Maybe they had done too much to deserve any peace for themselves. Because this wasn’t suppose to be happening.
It was one of the toughest battles she’d ever seen. It was a miracle that any of them survived. The fight had started while the moon was still in the sky. Stars twinkled down on the deck as chaos erupted around them, slowly blinking out of sight as the battle ensued. It was so hard to keep track of what was going on.
People kept falling and she couldn’t tell who was who half the time. For a moment she found herself trapped but only for a moment and by the time she pulled herself up the battle was ending.
The sun was just cresting the horizon when she pushed through the circle the crew had made to see what was going on. She didn’t need to see more than the fiery hair spread across the deck to know.
“No. No … No, no, no, no, no,” she was sobbing before she reached him. She slipped on the deck and came crashing to her knees before she reached him but she just kept crawling as if she hadn’t even noticed. She did not yell for help; his eyes were open, their light gone and she knew death when she saw it.
That did not keep her silent when her fingers curled over his shoulders. “No, no, please don’t do this,” she cried. “You can’t leave me, not now. I can’t do this without you! Please don’t leave me, please, please.”
Choking on her sobs, her eyes blurring with tears she cupped his cheek in her hand and looked to the others with such pleading in her eyes as if somehow she thought one of them could make this all stop. Ziggly had to look away, they all looked away in the end as she slumped weeping over his body.
With a heavy, stuttered breath she stretched herself out on the deck alongside him, pressed her body into his as much as her swollen belly would allow. Her head settled on his shoulder, her face nearly pressed into his neck as the baby began to kick. And so she reached across his bloodied body and pulled his cold hand up to feel those insistent little movements. She kept his hand there and cried quietly into his shoulder until someone came to urge her up.
It felt like hours, it felt like forever but it hadn’t been long enough and when her hand thrust back a flash of the arcane kept anyone else from coming closer. And as she settled back down she pulled his arm around her and buried her face against his lifeless chest.
Mairynn, sobbing as if she’d just lost her own father (and truthfully Cris was the closest she had ever had to that), took Kyl with her to usher the three little ones away to the galley. This one time they knew Gerty wouldn’t care. And slowly after that the others began to filter away leaving Alaia there with her husband.
Only Zedain remained to watch over his little sister and hear her feeble, broken pleas of: “please come back to me, please don’t leave me alone, please.” Ismay remained for a time as well until it became too much for the dwarf to bear. Ziggly stopped once or twice but only Zedain remained unflinching, tears in his eyes that never fell for the man they’d lost and the broken woman lying beside him.
They buried him at sea and again they left Alaia alone; this time clinging to the ship’s railing and staring down at the water as if she could still see him there.
BRMC: Feel it Now
Much as she wanted to Alaia did not die that day, she simply stopped living. She remained for her children, for those sweet faces she was certain would have been better off being raised by their uncle.
She took them back to her cottage at the edge of Eversong; she could never bear all of the places she had been with Cris once he was gone. Their fourth child was born there beneath the safety of golden trees; a daughter whom she named Maerin in honor of Cristianno’s mother as they had so often discussed. And she was beautiful, they were all beautiful but they could never seem to draw Alaia back into the light.
She just seemed to stop when he died. Life became a series of necessary motions, hugs for her children and wiping away their tears. Her smiles were small and always filled with such sorrow and they never heard her laugh again. Once he was gone she seemed to get sick so easily and she looked so tired. There was hardly any Alaia left and it seemed with each passing year that she became a little less.
But on a certain day once a year when she would take herself to the ocean things were different. They would follow without her knowing and stay back, hidden within the trees. It was impossible to hear what she said but they knew she was talking and they knew by the way the water moved around her that it was talking back. And for a while when she came home that night she looked like the woman they used to know so long ago.
But it would fade as everything did and not long after she would be ill again. And then the day came when it was Zedain alone who followed her silently to the beach to watch her conversation with the water. The children were grown, finishing their studies or already out in the world. All but Maerin who was just preparing to leave home.
Emily Browning: Sing Me to Sleep
And it was Maerin who came to Alaia’s bedside a week later and took her mother’s cold hand in her own. She settled on the edge of the bed and gave Alaia the sweetest smile; a smile she had inherited from her mother. “It’s alright, Momma,” she said so softly. “You don’t have to stay here anymore.”
Her eyes were filled with tears but there was nothing but love in her expression. “I know you want to be with him and I know you’ll always be watching. You both will. We know that you love us, we’ve always known. And it’s ok now, we’ll be ok. I promise.” The tears were slipping down her cheeks and Alaia did her best to wipe them away before her gaze fell to the door, where Zedain stood.
He was crying as well but he had accepted this. He knew that he had lost his sister long ago and it was time for her mourning to find it’s end. He entered as Maerin moved aside and knelt down next to his sister.
She touched his greying hair gently. Her voice was so weak. “Will you take me to the water?”
He kissed her hand and he complied. She was so light from years of eating just enough to survive that he had no problem carrying her to the ocean. He put her down where the water lapped the shore and backed away to where his nieces and nephews stood because they had all come the moment Maerin called.
Alaia walked slowly into the water; it was so still until she waded into it. She brushed her fingertips through the surface, a ghost of a touch, as she had once brushed his cheek. “I’m here,” she said quietly as she walked.
The waves lapped more insistently the further she went until she brushed them again. “I’m here. I’m ready. Take me home,” she whispered. A single wave rose over her and when it rolled back out she was gone.
Maerin walked to the water’s edge with a tiny vial in her hand on a beautiful chain. She dipped it in the water, filled it up and sealed it and handed it to Lyra, watching as her older sister draped the chain around her neck. She repeated the process until her brothers each had one and then one for herself. As her mother had before she brushed her fingers through the water. “You’ll always be with us,” she said. “And we will always love you.”
Just as she backed out of the water a wave hit the shore and when it rolled out there was a wolf ring lying in the sand just like the ones her siblings and her uncles had, just like the one she would have had had her father lived long enough to see it made. She picked it up and put it on with a soft: “thank you.”
Her mother didn’t need it anymore.
@captainseawolf - since you were mentioned. :p
3 notes
·
View notes