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thelifestyleeditor · 5 years ago

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CREATIVE CONVERSATIONS

Who are you: Silvana de Soissons

What is your work: I am the founder and product maker at Farm Soap Co.

Where can we find you:

Website: www.farmsoapco.com

Twitter: @silvanades

Instagram: @farmsoapco

Facebook: Farm Soap Co.

Describe your work in 5 words: Handmade, small-batch, botanical skincare.

Can you tell us a little about what you do? I grow and produce botanical skincare products - I have just recently launched my business with eight different plant-based soaps, and will be launching bath salts, body oils, toners, mists and creams soon. I aim to grow the botanicals which are distilled and turned into the hydrosols, macerations and essential oils that go into the products. I am working on a section of the walled garden at Deans Court in Wimborne - hopefully we will be able to harvest the first plants in the autumn of this year.

Can you tell us about your career journey and how you got to where you are today? Well, I have certainly had a circuitous career, starting with a degree in Economics from the University of Bath and then moving to London. I have worked in finance, sales, marketing and retailing and have also owned my own food and lifestyle business in Bath. For a long time I have been a buyer of artisan toiletries and skincare products – both as a consumer and also as a retailer. I believe in the healing, nourishing and medicinal power of plants, and in putting the very best ingredients on my skin in the same way I would only put the best, seasonal, local ingredients on my plate. I wanted to create a skincare brand that was completely plant based, vegan, zero chemical and zero plastic, with trustworthy and transparent sourcing, and production with a sense of place. That’s how Farm Soap Co. was born.

Where is your office/studio, and what is the view out of your window? I am very fortunate, especially since the Coronavirus lock-down was announced, that my workshop is in the back of my home, so I have no commute. I live on a Dorset dairy farm and my workshop used to be a cheese room - the right temperature and size to create a soap making workshop. My view out of the window is the garden.

What is the first thing you do when you get to work? I come down to my kitchen at around 6.30am to let my Fox Terrier dog Gumdrop out. I then make coffee, listen to the news on BBC Radio 4, and then I make my ‘To Do’ list for the day - amount of soaps that need to be produced, check on the cured soaps, answer emails, send out samples to potential stockists, order new supplies etc.

What are the tools of your trade? There are so many! The soaps are made from olive oil, coconut oil, shea butter, almond oil, essential oils, lye and in some cases sea salt and seaweed from Dorset’s Jurassic coast. I use weighing scales, pouring jugs, bowls, spoons, knives, thermometers, pots, spatulas, moulds, trays, steel racks, the list goes on!

What can’t you work without? My Roberts radio – I have it on for most of the day, a bit of Radio 3, a bit of Radio 4. Always accompanied by Italian coffee or British tea, with a cheeky biscuit or two.

Why do you love what you do? I love working for myself; I love the artisan, handmade process; I love creating a product that is pure, natural and simple; I love growing and producing; I love not having to manage people (is it OK to say that?!).

Who or what inspires you? There are so many excellent independent, small-batch botanical skincare producers all over the world, and I am inspired and informed by them every day. It is fascinating to see how producers and formulators from many different countries use their culture, heritage, flora and customs to create skincare, toiletries and well-being products with a sense of place and pride. I love to follow the work of: Bamford, L.A Bruket, Sphaera Soap, Seed to Skin, Primally Pure, Rawbatch Soap, Pai Skincare, Votary, Vintner’s Daughter, Wild Sage, Wildsmith Skin, Wilder Botanics, A.S. Apothecary, Enchanted Plants, Yellow Gorse, Saint Iris Adriatica, Honest Skincare, Haeckels, so many!

What is the best advice you have received? This is a quote by Benjamin Franklin, so obviously it’s not advice received but it’s the advice I always give to those who want to be cheap, do sloppy work and cut corners: “The bitterness of poor quality remains long after the sweetness of low price is forgotten.” The best advice always comes from my husband John-Paul, and my 24 year old daughter Mariella. Whenever I have had problems dealing with certain people in my career, managing difficult members of staff, or handling a supplier who wasn’t behaving in a professional manner, I tell them the whole issue and they talk me through sensible solutions bit-by-bit. They really should set up an “Agony Aunt Advice” column, they’re so good at getting to the heart of the matter and nailing the solution on the head. Sometimes when the going gets tough in business (and when is the going not tough in business?!), you need to be strong and detach yourself from situations - you can’t see the solution clearly if you’re too close.

One moment in your career you will always remember? Err, launching Farm Soap Co. at the time of the Coronavirus epidemic has got to be right up there as memorable. I have never launched a lock-down business before – any helpful hints and tips?! Still, soap saves lives! We will always need soap, remember that.

What is the best part of your job? The best part of my job is working with fantastic botanical ingredients – coconut oil, shea butter, essential oils, herbs and flowers.

And the worst? The washing up! You would not believe the amount of washing up there is after you have made a batch of soap. Endless washing, drying, putting away and repeat!

What’s your proudest career achievement? Still being in the world of business and making and selling products thirty two years after graduating - I love making, creating, learning and developing and I think that it’s an achievement in life to never lose the gift of wonder, the thirst for knowledge and the drive to explore and invent. I am proud to be a dinosaur and still alive - that’s an achievement.

What are you working on at the moment? Formulations for botanical bath salts, body oils, toners, tonics and creams.

What single thing would improve the quality of your life? Please can someone find a vaccine for Coronavirus. Please could someone come and help me do the washing up. Also, please could someone come on a daily basis and tire Gumdrop out!

Can you share a favourite websites or Instagram feed? I love The Shopkeepers @the_shopkeepers https://www.theshopkeepers.com/ - they are such a wonderful resource for learning about and celebrating small, independent shops all over the world

I love The Botanical Candle Company in Shaftesbury - @thebotanicalcandleco https://www.thebotanicalcandleco.co.uk/ – such a beautiful shop selling wonderful homewares, lifestyle goods and the world’s best smelling scented candles made of soy wax. The owner Amalia Pothecary (what a wonderful name!) and her husband James, also have a lovely home and pets and her personal account @_apothecary_ is a hilarious peek at her life at home.

One of the most beautiful feeds on Instagram belongs to No 56 Penzance @no.56penzance and the artisan makers account @no.56makers https://no-56.com/ - I want to buy every single thing in that shop. The owner Carole has exquisite taste.

As does @thehambledon and @objectsofuse and @gonzalezygonzalezstore and @march.sf and @levestiairedejeanne and @rennes._ and @bontucson and @cinq.kyoko and @cloveandcreek and @avidaportuguesa and @veritecoeur_shop and @veritecoeur_atelier and @plaingoods and @tiinathestore...I could go on and on!

What have you learned the hard way? It takes a great deal of patience and commitment to formulate a good soap, or any skincare product. There are no shortcuts - you need to commit the time, resources, focus and energy. There are lots of failed attempts. You will end up using A LOT of soap yourself.

If you could do another job what would you like to do and why? I am a fair weather person - during the Summer I would like to work in a herb garden and look after plants all day long - being surrounded by nature, with a straw hat on my head, a Thermos flask of tea and a picnic lunch in my basket. Then in Winter you would find me in front of the fire - looking through all the seed catalogues and gardening books, planning the fair weather days.

What advice would you give to someone wanting to do what you are doing? You will need to learn a great deal, go on workshops and courses, follow all the professional makers, buy good books on the subject, practice, practice, practice, and develop your own distinctive products. The toiletries and skincare market is very crowded - you will need your own USP (unique selling proposition) and good branding and packaging too. I would say, go and work for others for a few years first and watch and learn all the sides of the business - from finance to sourcing, origination, production, sales, distribution etc. With every job comes an apprenticeship period that will stand you in good stead for the future.

If you could be someone for a day who would it be? I would like to be Jo Malone - she has such a wonderful sense of smell, ability to create new fragrances and market them in an extremely overcrowded market. She sold her eponymous business to Estée Lauder and then created Jo Loves. She has overcome huge personal adversity without losing her enthusiasm and smile - what a brilliant entrepreneur and positive, engaging role model to all who follow.

Do you have a secret ambition still to achieve? So many - I would love for Farm Soap Co. to grow as a business and be stocked in my favourite lifestyle stores and boutique hotels and B&Bs. My ambition is to keep learning and developing, producing really good botanical skincare products and toiletries for all my customers to enjoy.

What is your personal motto? Keep your head and hopes high.

If you had an extra hour each day what would you do with it? Enjoy a really long, hot bath with essential oils and bath salts, a glass of cold Prosecco in hand, woody, scented candles flickering, a warm, white fluffy towel on the radiator and clean flannel pyjamas. I am totally rock & roll!

How would you like to be remembered? She came. She saw. She made it happen. Then she had a bath.

Thank you Silvana for talking to The Lifestyle Editor.

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bounnostra · 5 years ago

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t4.8 ⟨ fellini’s graceful entrance, graceful existence, and graceful assault ⟩ 👽 { re: bams, moss

Orwell nods quietly along with the discussion regarding the culprit’s identity.

“About that... the way the pits were formed...”

His voice is low, like he doesn’t want Rookie to hear despite how close he is to the person he’s addressing.

“The cordyceps appeared unused to utilizing Mx. Rookie’s powers. It wouldn’t surprise me if the state of the pits was due to that. Also, it has been on my mind, but... mm... rather than scooping out the dirt as one would when shoveling... perhaps it was .. compressed? Like... mm... sort of in the way one might be able to press a spoon down into a bowl of rice and create something of an indent? I am not sure. It just seems odd to me that so much dirt would be cleared away to form the pit without a trace.”

A small sigh.

“But I will concede that the edges of the pit were as you described: not uniform at all, and entirely possible to have been dug by hand... however... mm. If someone like the individual next to me were to do it, would there not be more evidence of them leaving the pit? The walls of the pit... would surely indicate that it was climbed out of, as they were rather deep.”

And then, an address to his neighbor whose comments ... almost pull him straight back to anger.

“Miss Quinine does not own any such sword. I would be aware of it, and there are no injuries on Mx. Estrada’s person that indicate a sword was even used to harm him. Furthermore and far more important than your flimsy accusation--”

Inhale..

“Just because you are not hurting due to the passing of Mx. Estrada does not mean that others aren’t. The temerity in making such a callous remark -- were I a man of less self-restraint I am certain you would hear no end of my disdain for your recent actions. For the moment I will move on, but understand that I will not allow you to harm her even through your words. That is to say: kindly be quiet.”

Another breath to refocus. He really doesn’t want to say this next part because of whatever rebuttal it might prompt.

“I do not think that Mx. Rookie was the killer, merely that he was involved which... has not been entirely disproved. He said it himself -- that the cordyceps would not have needed a weapon in order to commit the deed. But someone else would. Someone who would have little problem persuading Mx. Rookie -- even in his previous state -- to help them out.

“The person beside me has demonstrated a lack of ability in holding off control of the parasites in addition to a shoddy defense. The person I am most suspicious of has demonstrated a relatively solid ability to withstand their control, even though they were in the heavy stages of infection at the start.

“... ...I suppose, despite my reservations, it is time for me to be transparent: Mister Pip fits the profile of our perpetrator the most based off of information that we currently know. Additionally, from what I experienced, the infection amplified his inclination towards violence.”

His brow is furrowed as the grip on his pen tightens.

“... The multitude of threats aside, Mister Pip pointed a gun at my head and pulled the trigger. Of course, it was the prop gun that I showcased earlier, but he had no idea at the time that it was not real, acting as if it were functional. I suppose ... that that should be sufficient enough of a picture regarding his mindset these past two weeks.”

#boun #ch4 #trial #orwell #submission

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goliath-de-senfina-sango · 5 years ago

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Ex Choir Kid Beats up Ex Chorus Kids, It Isn't the Swimsuit Edition, Teen Tries to Angst Rudely in front of Rude Friends, Worrying Changes Happening With Your Body and Mind are Completely (un)Natural, Robot Attacks Teens in Zoo

Danny didn’t have anything against chorus kids, heck he was one in middle school, but this was downright ridiculous. He and Tucker had been in the lab, working on actually building the hoverboard that they had planned on building before The Accident. Danny had the Gravity Inverter™ already built, and they had just decided on modelling it after surf boards instead of skateboards. “It offers more room to maneuver, and between Sam, Jazz, and Mom last summer, I’ve gotten pretty good at surfing.”

“I am a wonderful teacher, yes. And in return for those lessons, your parents agreed to help me with converting your lawn from grass to moss." Sam smirked from where she was doing… something on her laptop - the newest brandname laptop that made Tucker drool even though he could almost certainly build a better one.

"I know I'm going to regret asking this but: Why?" A glance up showed that Tucker had the soldering iron in the air just over the circuitry of the board and was staring at Sam. Danny contemplated telling Tucker to put on gloves or let him realize his mistake as the heat got to him.

"Because moss is a much better oxygenator, it doesn't grow tall enough that any mowing need be done, it can grow easily in the low nutrient soil most yards have, and it looks cool as hell." Sam paused in her typing and Danny and Tucker blinked slowly at her. “I helped with turning the grass in my lawn to moss.”

“So, like, are you gonna just do our lawn or are you gonna convince the school to do it or something? Maybe a botony club?”

“That sounds like a great idea, Danny! But I’ve got other ideas for now.” Sam grinned, looking at Tucker, who still hadn’t noticed his own lack of gloves. Danny was getting worried about nerve damage now. “How’s the car design going?”

“I’ve been working on it, and I was actually gonna have Danny take a look after we’re done with this. Still, I think it should be pretty easy to do with the right resources. Still, I think we need to develop better transparent solar panels for it to work.” Danny reached for another tool, opening his mouth to mention that his family already had those developed and capable of 50% efficiency, and instead groaned when his lungs went icy cold. Turning to the portal, Danny picked up a new Fenton Rifle™ and took aim. The air near the portal rippled and flashed with green sparks which tore the air asunder into a swirling pane of light. Twelve ghosts, all singing off key and out of harmony, flew from the portal, and it snapped closed as soon as the last pair were out. Quickly fed up with the noise they were making, Tucker took aim with his Wrist Ray ™ and demanded “QUIET!”

One of the ghosts took exception to that and talons dragged across Tucker’s back, flinging him onto the floor. Danny snarled and pulled the trigger on the rifle, striking one of the ghosts hard in the chest and burning a hole deep enough that Danny could see a pulsating ball of toxic green. The ghost stared at him, shocked, and melted into a puddle on the ground. Before Danny could swing the rifle around to take out the rest, a claw slammed into his arm and sent him tumbling into the table. The ghosts evacuated the lab, fleeing the angry teen and his gun while Tucker slowly stood up. Danny rushed over, hand hovering an inch from Tucker. “Are you ok? That looked like it hurt. It also looks like it’s bleeding.”

“Yeah, it hurt plenty. Is it deep?”

“No, I think the bleeding is just immediate bu-”

“Sam, can you get the first aid kit? We can bandage this right?” Tucker tugged on his sweater and Danny phased it off for him. “You go, we’ll catch up.”

Danny took a deep breath and concentrated, filled and surrounded by void faster than ever before and rising off the ground. “Call me, I’ll text you where I am when you can catch up.” And off he flew, immaterial and weightless, the world unfolding until all he could see was the brilliant viridian streaked void and those idiots who thought they could get away with hurting his best friend. The first one he caught up to dodged his rifle fire, another coming up and slamming a brick into his head. Danny whipped around with a growl and shot that one in the center, not watching as it crumbled into a pile of goo. “ You’re next!”

Tucker and Sam skateboarded their way to him around halfway through the ghosts, using the thermos to catch them instead of letting Danny tear them apart. Something he was surely going to appreciate when he wasn’t as furious as he was right now. Unfortunately, upon getting the last pair near a warehouse on the docks of the river, the Trio found yet another rip in the air, an odd shifting thing that refused to stay as one shape for Tucker and Sam to see. Helpfully, Danny supplied, “It’s a tesseract. That’s fucking amazing to see, it’s so cool.”

And because Danny had the sheer gall to be impressed by geometry the universe punished his nerdiness by shoving a ghost out of the portal, ethereal form twisting between sizes and shapes before cubic chunks of green settled as a blue skinned man in denim overalls. Bright red eyes blinked out at the teens and they sighed. Sam nearly had time to say hi when the ghost lifted his hands over his head, wiggling his fingers and shouted at them. “BEWARE!”

“Ok,” Tucker said as he fired his ectopistol at the ghost, blasting him back a bit. Tucker stumbled onto his face when a glowing box smacked him in the back of the head and groaned. “This is stupid.” Sam fired her own wrist ray and it knocked boxy right into Danny’s line of fire while another box hit her legs and tripped her up.

Danny pressed the barrel of his rifle against the Box ghost’s chest, focusing his anger into the gun and pulled the trigger. “ B E W A R E .” Hot ectoplasma tore through the Box Ghost’s chest and burned a hole on the wall behind him. Danny flew down to his friends to check on them, and sucked on his teeth when he saw the way they were looking at him. “What?”

“Danny, I dunno how you did that to your voice, but when Halloween comes around you need to be able to do it again.” Tucker let Sam help him up and pulled out the thermos, aiming it at the mess on the walls. “Seal for delivery.” The green goop flew toward the thermos and soon was gone. Danny dropped to the ground and flipped onto his back.

“Seal, aquatic mammal in the arctic. It uh, barks?” Danny looked hopeful. Sam looked less so.

“Sorry brain boy, that is yet another wrong answer.”

“Hey, I’m an Astrophysist, mechanical engineer and artist, not a biologist.” Danny grumbled. “Speaking of biology, how you doin Tuck?”

Tucker spun the Fenton Thermos ™ on his finger like a basketball. “I’m feelin a bit sore still but I’ll be way better once we all get home. There’s still an hour before curfew and that’s all we need to study, right?” Danny offered a thumbs up and Sam shrugged.

Then the thermos fell from Tucker’s finger right on the release button and all their hard work filled the warehouse before getting away again.

“Tucker.”

“Yes, Sam?”

“When you’re feeling better I’m going to hurt you.”

“Right.”

Considering it took them over two and a half hours to find and catch a third of the ghosts released by Tuck's blunder, everyone got home at around midnight, leaving no study time for Danny. The Box Ghost, apparently, was stronger than they expected, because he was fully formed as soon as the ectoplasm left the thermos. Running a highly demanding brain and body on only five hours of sleep was Not a fun endeavor. Danny inhaled his breakfast, and if an upward glance was anything to go by spiked the electric bill with his secondary eating.

Jazz decided to be gratingly cheery anyway, like she always was. “Mom! I just got the news from Genius magazine!” Jazz was holding up a cover of said magazine and Danny rolled his eyes. “You’re gonna be on the cover!”

“Genius Magazine?” Dad grabbed up the magazine and stared at it for a moment before a low and potentially upset tone carried out, “is it the swimsuit issue?”

“Dad, please ,” Jazz rolled her eyes and narrowed them. “this magazine is for, by and about women geniuses!”

“Firstly,” Danny said, holding up his spoon. “Is Dr. Saturday in it?”

“…No.”

“Then they missed a genius.” Danny felt his face twist up. “Secondly, I’m trying to eat and you bring up Mom being in the swimsuit issue of a falsely named magazine?”

Jazz ripped the magazine from Dad’s hand and groaned in frustration, her page flipping now the slamming of book covers. “I signed Mom up so that the world can see that she’s a genius and not a ghost hunting freak!” Danny winced, rubbing his neck. Sounded like Jazz heard as much of it as he did. Unsurprising, kids were assholes.

“They’re not ghost hunting freaks,” Danny said with only a touch of offense in his tone. “They’re Ectologists, contracted regularly by the government. They’re also right about ghosts being real.” Jazz opened her mouth to challenge that claim but even groggy and under fueled Danny’s brain was quick. “Just check the back of the school for proof.” Quick but filterless.

“Well sweetie,” Mom said before Jazz could counter that it was a gas explosion like Tucker had fed to the school, “if I’m going to be on a cover - which you should ask me for permission for before you go doing it - then I want Jack right there with me.” Mom pulled Dad’s bulk to her, impossibly, in a hug. “We’re a team after all!”

The man in question beamed and pulled out… something. Danny didn’t have the brain power to analyze tech at the moment. “That’s right! Together we built the Ghost Gabber™! It translates the odd noises that a ghost makes, dissonant whispering sounds and all, into language that you and I can understand!”

“In what language?” Danny frowned. “If you’re gonna sell this - which please don’t this is ridiculous - then it should be in like, all languages you’re gonna sell to right?”

“Mandarin, Spanish, English, Hindi and Arabic so far,” Mom supplied. Danny nodded and slurped down the last of the milk in his bowl. “It’ll work for any language when it’s done!”

Danny stared at the thing and narrowed his eyes. “Boo.”

“I am a ghost,” the thing rattled off back to him. Which, well, fuck. That’s what I was thinking at least.

“It’s busted, responded to human speech. Or you guys have the worst humor and that’s preprogrammed.” Danny grabbed his lunch and headed to the door. ��Love you byyye!”

School was as mind numbing as ever, the damage from the ‘gas explosion’ doing nothing to stop classes apparently. Which meant that Falluca's test on biology was still a go. Yay. Brain sluggish from last night's hunting and lacking on biology knowledge to begin with, Danny was unsurprised yet pissy when he was handed back a D.

Taking their lunches into the library, the Trio ate quickly, everyone still feeling yesterday's activities. Soon as he was out of food to shovel in his mouth Danny was glaring at his test again. "I can't have a D on a test! I’m a Fenton!”

“The American Public education system is a relic and fails to accurately quantify intelligence.” Danny stared blankly at Tucker, who shrugged. “Sam’s activism rubs off when she’s right.”

“If I come home with a D my mom’s gonna put me through martial arts training and have Dad give me lessons on whatever it is I failed on.” Danny waved his paper aggressively. “My Dad teaching me biology guys, it’s horrible!”

“Well since you need to boost that grade I have an extra credit idea for you,” Sam said at one of the computers. Danny turned to look at her screen and furrowed his brow.

“A purple backed gorilla? Why is it’s back purple? That’s not a naturally occurring pigment in mammals.” Danny turned to Tucker. “Right?”

“While I’m the last person you should defer to for knowledge on organic coding, you’re right. I can only think of birds and uh butterflies? Those can be purple. Rarely though.”

“Extremely rare, only two males left. Which is why you’re going to write a report studying it on why it deserves to be set free!” Sam beamed at him with that smile she used when she wanted something out of him. The air around her shimmered with impressions of green and purple, like a mist that clung just above her skin. It didn’t seem to be hurting her, so Danny didn’t bother mentioning it beyond pulling out his journal to take a note in.

“I don’t have time for extra credit, or your agendas, Sam.” Danny groaned. “Gotta find those extra ghosts before they manage to hurt someone.”

“Actually,” Tucker cut in, holding up his PDA. “You do have time. You just need to manage it better. Which is why I’ve elected myself to be your time manager. Least I can do after Sam let all those ghosts out.” Sam glared, that meowing turning to a low growl, and Danny tugged on his jacket.

“I dunno…” Could Tucker be trusted to manage even his own time, let alone Danny’s?

“It’ll be my job to manage your schedule so that you can do your schoolwork and catch that Box Ghost dumbass that Sam let out.”

“You do remember that I can turn outrun you right?” Sam’s glare intensified, and Tucker swallowed. “I can kick your ass faster than you can move it, Foley.”

“Remember what happened when I let you manage the thermos, Tucker?” Danny arched a brow, crossing his arms.

“I’ve already set a reminder,” the geek held up his PDA which flashed with bright green letters. “Don’t let Tucker handle the Thermos.”

“What the hell?” Danny sighed. “I guess we can do a trial run.”

“Sweet! I’ve also scheduled some time for us to go check out that gorilla once classes are over.”

“Before I even said yes to doing a report on it, yay. Aren’t you just the best?” Danny jabbed Tucker lightly in the arm and frowned when Tucker winced. “How’s the shoulder?”

Tucker shrugged. “It’s getting better. Told Mom I fell off my skateboard trying to do a trick and she helped me change my bandages. It should be fine in a couple days.”

Danny sighed, pulling his hood over his head. “I shouldn’t have opened that portal. Then you guys wouldn’t have gotten hurt like this.” Danny zipped up his hoodie, shivering. “Stars guys, I’m so sorry .”

“Said the guy who I pressured into the portal,” Sam countered.

“To the guy who coulda said enough is enough and stopped you,” Tucker added, ruining Danny’s angsty bad times. He had negativity to feel dangit!

“You guys are dumb.” Danny pulled the two into a tight hug. “Thanks. I dunno what I’d do without you.”

“Probably finish dying, let’s be real.” Tucker earned the punch he got from Sam, he really did.

The bell rang, and the Trio sighed. “Well shit. Time to go back and do all that school stuff.” Danny pulled away and grabbed up his bag. It was one of the few classes he had without Sam and Tuck next. “See you guys later.” A few goodbyes later and everyone left to zone out in class and contemplate what that day in the lab had really meant for them.

While Sam was taking in all the key points of the lesson, she was also noting that she knew this part of history like the back of her hand. The majority of Sam’s attention was on a comment the blond meathead had made. Just as they got to class, Dash had shoved Danny into some lockers, and when Sam told him off for it he called her a witch girl for hanging out with the ghost freak. As much it made Sam want to castrate the idiot with a heated rusty knife, it also made her think. If ghosts were real - something she tried not to think too hard about because the realization of how big that was felt like too much to even begin processing - then why not magick? Tucking away the mental note to do some research on magick later, Sam let her mind wander through all the different things she could probably do for the world with magick.

Once Sam found Tucker and Danny at the exit, she draped her arms over both boys’ shoulders and kept walking. They caught up to pace quickly enough. “So, the zoo first or looking for Ghostly Chorus first?”

“Ghosts first,” Danny said after a few minutes of contemplation. “If we catch em right away we can get to the zoo and spend more time fully focused on it.” It took them a trip home each to grab their scooters, then two hours of searching four different neighborhoods before the group actually found the four remaining Choir Ghosts. Danny felt a deep rage fill the core of his being when he saw them, the fools that dared to hurt his friends and took aim with his rifle to announce that he’d found them. A pulled trigger and there were only three ghosts left. One of the ghosts turned to fly at him, swiping a claw that grazed his cheek and knocked him back in the air. Tucker fired off a shot, missing both the chorus ghost and Danny by just an inch, and being knocked tumbling off his skateboard for his trouble. “ You’re going to regret that . ”

Sam landed a shot on the ghost that knocked Tucker off his board and did a kick flip to avoid one trying to get the drop on her. The ghosts prioritized Danny as the biggest threat, two of them swinging at him from either side. Danny raised his weapons on either side and was knocked down by the third one into Tucker. A growl built itself up from Danny’s chest and he turned both his rifle and wrist ray to the sky. One of the ghosts dodged the wrist ray, knocking the other into the path of the rifle shot. Sam took out the one that had dodged Danny just before the last one appeared in front of her. It dove under the ground and Sam saw green as Tucker’s wrist ray rammed into her shoulder. “SAM!”

Tucker rushed over to Sam and Danny zoomed through the air, driving his fist through the ghost’s chest and grabbing onto that ball of emerald light. He snarled in it’s face. “Should’ve let him take you out. It would’ve been less painful.” The ghost tried to get away, but Danny held firm and squeezed harder and harder until the ball of power, of connection of self of discordant songs and burning wood cracked in his hand and ectoplasm dissolved into a pile of goop on the asphalt.

Turning back to Sam and Tucker, Danny was greeted by horrified faces on his best friends in the world, and immediately lowered himself to the ground. The void left him, an empty space in his chest as Danny ran over to Sam and Tucker, kneeling to check Sam’s shoulder. “Are you ok?”

Sam took a long moment befor eshe seemed to even hear what he’d said. “I mean I uh I might need some burn cream and my shoulder isn’t exactly having the best night ever, but I’ll be fine. It doesn’t exactly hurt as much as it probably hurt the ghosts.”

“Y-yeah, that’s probably it.” Tucker helped her to her feet and dusted himself off. “Everybody still feeling up for the zoo? We gotta grab that extra credit.”

Danny stared down at his hand, flexing his fingers and shuddering at the icy chill around them. He’d taken out minor ghosts before, sure, but never as brutally as he did that one and the Box Ghost. What happened to me? “Alright. The zoo.” Danny slid back into the void, easier at night when he had the stars to look up to and reach for, and rose up off the ground while Tucker and Sam grabbed their boards. And as they headed to the Zoo, Danny couldn’t help but think to himself. I wouldn’t do that to a person, would I? All I had to do was catch it in the thermos and it’d have been dealt with. Stars. Danny shook his head, trying to force himself away from thoughts of what kind of horror he’d’ve seen on Tucker and Sam’s faces if that had been a human who’d taken a swing at them.

Sam looked out from the observation deck binoculars at Sampson, taking her turn on gorilla watch. “He’s so beautiful, so intelligent, so majestic!” Watching the gorilla pace in his cage Sam was sure he would be infinitely happier in the wild.

“What we’ve learned thus far, Sam is that gorillas like to scratch their butts.” Danny yawned, turning to Tucker. “How long have we taken to learn that?”

“Five hours.” Tucker yawned, sitting on the floor.

“Time flies when you’re majestically scratching your butt.”

“C’mon guys, we could learn something about Sampson no one else has!” A thought occurred and Sam turned to Danny. “You should try commun- oh. Wow.” The boys were on the floor, both clearly conked out from the lack of sleep last night. And Danny rolled over to cuddle Tucker in his sleep, which Sam felt was sickeningly cute. “Fine, I’ll do it myself… in the meantime…” Sam took a picture of the boys, chuckling. “To the scrapbook it goes for when these idiots finally get a clue.”

By the time she got to the gorilla enclosure, she heard a loud roar from elsewhere in the zoo. Presuming it was just a tiger or two waking up, Sam looked into the cage to see Sampson pulling on the bars of the door to his cage. “You poor creature, stuck in here when you should be in the jungle.” Sampson saw Sam standing there and pulled even harder on the door, howling at her and staring desperately. “…You want out?”

Sam decided to use her own Dumbass Teenager Action of the month and blame it on her own sleep deprivation. She also blamed it on the control panel having an easy to get to, easy to use Open Cage button. If she could get away with it, she was going to have a talk with whoever ran security.

Sampson practically flew out of his cage and Sam followed after him. She stopped, shock freezing her muscles up as Sampson tackled to the ground a… “Is that a fucking robot?”

The man made of steel and wearing black leather and a shoulder pad kicked Sampson off and Sam found herself caught between rolling her eyes at the Mohawk and goatee made of green fire and backing away from the glowing ghost robot.

Sampson charged again immediately after being thrown, knocking the robot to the ground and rolling onto his back. Sam felt herself laugh as the robot was tossed around by Sampson’s feet but it all felt so unreal. Is this what my life has come to?

Sampson was blinded by goo and Sam felt it time to act. She raised her Wrist Ray™ and fired, narrowly missing the ghost robot, who glared in her direction and fired off a shot of his own. It caught her in the gut, sending Sam backward and the ghost snorted. “Damn wench. You and this gorilla pest are in my way. Thought I’d gotten the last one with me.” Speaking of, Sampson got the gunk out of his eyes and charged the hunter again, though the ghost dodged out of the way, phasing through a backhanded swing.

“So you’re the one who went around poaching the furs of purple-backed gorillas? This is your fault? ” Sam felt her blood boil and fired off another shot with her wrist ray, cracking the shoulder pad of the armor. “They’re going to go extinct because of you!”

“All the more reason to get the last ones in my home. Unfortunately, you can put several bullets into something and it can still eat you before it realizes it’s supposed to be dead.” The robot looked down at his shoulder, which gave off little sparks, and he turned to Sam, raising his arm cannon. “Let’s see how well you can replicate that, shall we?”

Before the ghost could fire his cannon at Sam, Sampson grabbed him up from behind and tossed the ghost hard. Sam recognized that she wasn’t going to be able to handle this one on her own, and ran to the observation deck to get to Danny and Tucker. “GUYS, GUYS WAKE UP!” She grabbed onto the ladder and started climbing when an explosion rocked the tower and she nearly lost her grip. The town began to lean and Sam heard herself screaming before she even felt it. The tower began to tilt her way and Sam looked down to see a hole blown in the base of the tower.

Danny heard screaming, but it was far away and likely unimportant and he had dreams to have, stars to see and hear and cradle in his hands and wrap his entire self within and around. There was so much for them to show him, so much to give him and all he need do is reach out and - the ground shook, thunder booming in his sensitive ears and Danny clung tighter to Tucker for a moment, his eyes flying open. “TUCK Tucker wake up!” Danny shook his friend and reached for that silvery darkness that filled him and wove around him. “Fuck fuck fuck, ok, I have an idea, get up, be ready!”

Danny flew through the glass - either physically or intangibly he didn’t know right now - and turned to look at the tower. There was… a hole in it. And Sam was on the tower, screaming. And they needed him. “It worked for Agatha, it can work for me.” Danny held out his hands and closed his eyes. He searched within, reaching deeper and deeper for that light, the wispy shadows that surrounded the world and held it in place around her star and kept the universe from falling apart. He reached and reached and shadows, whips of darkness even he could not fully see were grasped and pulled out of him. His eyes opened, and Danny wrapped his very self around the tower, gravity’s hold snatched away but for the longest of seconds. The tower no longer fell for there was no down for it to fall into, merely the void for it to rest within. Nothing, less than nothing, empty space filled the spaces between everything and all was still.

And then he c r a c k e d .

Tucker caught Danny and Sam looked around the zoo in awe and horror. Sampson had been blasted back into his cage, the tower was on its side, and Danny looked like he was fading fast. “Tucker, the thermos!” He pulled it out of his backpack and handed it to Sam. She looked inside and saw the sloshing ectoplasm they’d cleaned off the streets when they tore up the ghosts earlier. She grabbed onto Danny and held his mouth open, pouring the ectoplasm even as his form flickered between ghost and human.

“Sam, what the hell?” Sam realized her hand was shaking when she saw the green fluid drip down the sides of Danny’s face and Tucker grabbed the thermos to steady it. Danny drank down the ectoplasm and his body stabilized in ghost form. Once the thermos was empty, Tucker set it down and they watched as Danny glitched between forms one last time before his back arched and those blindingly bright rings appeared, transforming him back into Danny Fenton. “What the fuck happened?”

“A ghost robot appeared and tried to kill us.” Sam stood up and grabbed her board. “Who’s carrying Danny?”

“My hands are steady so I think that’s gonna be me. Think you can carry my board? I don’t wanna try that while I’ve got him on my back.” Tucker maneuvered Danny onto his back with arms looped around his shoulders, and stood up slowly and carefully. Sam grabbed his board and they headed for the exit together and from there to Fenton Works.

#Danny Fenton #Tucker Foley #Sam Manson #Danny Phantom #Box Ghsot #Jazz Fenton #Maddie Fenton #Jack Fenton #Skulker #Fanfiction #Phanfiction #fanPhiction #Fanfic #FanPhic #Phanfic #PhanPhiction #PhanPhic #MCS #Rexy Writes

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the-house-of-the-nine · 6 years ago

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In Depths Below, Masquerade, Part 7

[Part 7, Just a warning that we’re getting to the violence, blood and reveals here. ]

If you’re enjoying this, please like and share to your friends! Help us to reach new faces,readers & writers!

[We’ve been so blessed to have help from this fantastic community here, every single one of you have helped us in so many ways! And feel free to send anonymous ASKS if you are curious about writing with us! We absolutely welcome new faces! Without further delay….]

The sound of a slap coming across her face broke the conversation wide open. It even caused Marseille to blow their cover. Low and behold the second her face was slapped he knew. He had heard that tone many times before working in the servants lifestyle. He almost burst through the paper cover but Verzatea grabbed him to hold him back.

Though it was too late. The slap had caused silence and in that veil; his little shift and noise was all the Magister group had to hear in order to learn there was someone else there.

“What----was---that...” his golden eyes suddenly faded from their brilliance and the fel green that dwell beneath peered toward the little stand where the delicious cakes still sat. “Brightsong. . .”

The magister called upon would suddenly cast a spell of revealing against the little stand. And there the transparency of the paper showed them hiding behind the counter in full detail. There was nothing more they could do.

“Get out from behind there. . .show yourselves this instant!” Honeywell demanded as he stormed forward toward the stand.

At this point there was nothing more the pair could do but to crawl out from behind the counter. With hands raised upward and their disguises all but ruined, Verzatea and Marseille stood before the group of magisters. Marseille had calmly slipped the spoon into the spot where his tomahawk usually sat, unfortunately because of his apron and disguise, the weapon was missing.

“What were you doing. . .” Dawnseeker asked curiously. His fel green eyes calmly narrowed as he searched through the facial expressions of these stowaways.

“Well m’lord. . .you see, we got stuck in here when the crowd started to shuffle out, and rather than be rude we just felt. . .hiding was the best option to not disturb your meeting.”

Verzatea played the part of the innocent victim all too well, and her tone and fearful voice would simply scream truth to the untrained ear.

Dawnseeker had yet to demonstrate why it was that these people all seemed to fall in line behind him, but it was soon made clear when he waved his hand in her direction and the coiling essence that warped around the two of them suddenly squeezed. A fel green wrapping synched tightly and he would pull them toward the group.

“You are the owner of this little confectionery stand. . .” he said in the same horrid tone as before. The noose around them tightening while he inspected them.

“I am sir. . .lord. . .M’lord.” Verzatea stammered out as she nervously peered back toward him.

“You have heard certain things that. . .you should not have been privy to.” the look between the two as he spoke was insisting her had something in mind as to how he would deal with this.

“Certainly not. We have no idea what is going on with any of this and we have no interest in repeating anything.” she quickly tried to turn the tables so he could see they were in agreement.

Dawnseeker began to shake his head as he calmly moved away from the pairing of elves. His coiled fel wrapping still kept them in place and he would simply meander about thinking out loud.

“Well, there in lies the problem. . . if I leave it alone, I'm going to have to worry about you saying something to someone. . .and we just can’t have that.” he said as his feet slowly danced along the ballroom floor. “Can we?”

The collective group of magisters and their spouses would shake their heads and agree. They could not have that.

“And then comes the whole having to pay you off to silence you. . .which frankly I just dont have the energy to do. So. . .”

Dawnseeker raised his hand toward the pair of them. His power was fel based, clearly. He was a master of chaotic magics. The man who so proudly pontificated his pride for Silvermoon City; surrendered to the dark magics entirely. A ball of green energy focused against his palm while a skull shape began to emerge from the center.

“I am truly sorry, if it was not for your blatant stupidity. . . and overall incompetence this would not be happening right now.”

The magister pointed his palm flat toward Verzatea and Marseille who were still trapped in place by the green sizzling band. He narrowed his eyes and just as he was about to release the glowing ball, something loud broke the tension.

“No don’t!” Siida shouted in a scream just as she witnessed Magister Dawnseeker turn and fire the bolt of chaotic energy into the chest of the unsuspecting Honeywell.

The magister fell backward onto his rear as the green fel magic began to burrow through his chest cavity like a flesh eating disease. It bore a hole straight through and began to burn through his spinal cord and muscles. He was dead within seconds.

The rest of his group gasped and covered their mouths. They were completely aghast at what had just happened. The man whose house they all stood in right now was dead on the floor, still boiling and popping from the burning magic. Sennaris dare not move as she would not wish to incur his wrath further.

“You were saying?” Dawnseeker sneered as his sizzling hand lowered behind his vision. His burning eyes locked on Siida while the other hand tightened the grip he had on Verzatea and Marseille. They both let out a scream this time as the tension increased.

“Speak!”

“Alright! Please! Just don’t. . . not anymore. . .” Siida had raised her hands up. Watching the struggling partners she cared so deeply for; caught in the grasp of the effervescent vapors of his dark magic, she pleaded with wet eyes.

“Who---are--they...?” his voice was still as cold and horrid as ever. The crackling energy that bled from his fingers would drip onto the floor in pools of light green. “And speak the truth. . . I will know if you are lying. . .”

His glowing eyes peered back toward Magister Brightsong. The man was similar to Sennaris; save for the fact he could not manipulate the mind. But, he could cast a wave of energy over the collective. His ability would inflict a mentality of pure transparency. Similar to how he was able to show what was behind a solid object; it was true all the same for his ability to cause your truths to come to the surface.

Dawnseeker gave the signal and the other magister would begin to work his woven net of magic across the room, enveloping them all.

She felt odd. Almost as if something had melded with her mind. She went to speak but there was nothing. Only her eyes wide; purely cognizant of what had happened when the other magister cast his spell. She would attempt it again, but alas no words. Her thoughts were meant to deceive but she was unable.

“They are my friends. . .my family. . .” she whispered softly, loud enough for the room to pause and consider. She was unable to speak any deception. “Verzatea Duskflame. . . keeper of our family records and my brothers trusted advisor...”

“Siida. .. .” Verza spoke softly listening, trying to plead with her to stop. Though her voice was barely at half the volume of who she addressed due to the squeeze.

“A mentor of mine. She has taught me a great deal. The other is my brothers personal spy, his name is Marseille. He is Shal’dorei, the mask he wears is. . . fake. he haunts my dreams. . .” Siida opened her eyes widely and clamped her hands across her mouth.

Oh the light bit of laughter that suddenly overtook the group of magisters while they watched on. Dawnseeker continued to suspend her friends where they were; those dark eyes were still burning.

“Somebody get Honeywell out of here. . .” he said in a snide tone. His eyes alone spoke much deeper than his voice ever could.

For at that second he peered at Sennaris; the wise woman rightfully raced toward the body and began to drag it best she could from the room; leaving a trail of burned insides and blood across his polished stone floor. She would eagerly attempt to flee before her own cover was blown.

Thankfully she and Siida had shared a light glance that nobody happened to see. It was one of remorse; Sennaris was not about to abandon them but if she could slip out to Vari, there was a chance this could end. It was after all one part of the fall back. She left the four of them behind, hoping that if she could only make it outside the portcullis, that she could alert the rest.

“And what happens if we are made?” Vari stated while she padded across the room in her bare feet. She often removed her armor when she was in the comforts of The Bastille, especially in the drafting room. Or in this case; The Compellors hideaway.

“We will not have our cover blown unless someone speaks. I know these dossiers inside and out; my Mast. . .Lazarius had been sure to test me on everything in them.” Marseille stated firmly while watching the frozen queen move across her path.

“And there was no chance. . .” She hissed, her lich fire eyes locked on the glowing soft pink of his own. “You’re telling me, absolutely none, zero percent.”

Verzatea and Sennaris sat beside on another; it was clear they were not going to throw their hats in the ring.

“Zero.” he responded firmly. “The only person who will be recognized is Siida.”

Marseille softened his gaze; it was no secret that he did not enjoy harboring the idea of offering one of the only real friends he had as bait, but the plan was already set.

“I still don’t like this. . .” said the older sister.

“What choice have we Vari?” came the younger. “Even if the only thing we take away from this is that Lazarius is. . .”

“Don’t. . .you.” Vari turned and narrowed her vision at her younger sister. Granted they were not nearly as close and Lazarius and she, there was still that love she shared for her sister present, but her twin was by far a link she shared with no other.

“Even if. . . we will learn what we learn and get this. . .Dawnseeker.” she continued while watching Vari seeth. “It will be enough.”

“It will never be enough!” the frozen lich howled a chilling voice that rattled books from the shelves and seemed to come at them from every direction.

“Pyravari. . . I know that you are angered by the loss of what transpired here; truly know that it is not my intention to rob you of that grief. But for this plan to work, we need everyone to cooperate. Arguing will not bring him back to us, this. . . might.” Marseille calmly stated after the silence of her howl waned.

There was silence for a moment. Yes there was conflict in the air; the entire group of them were on edge. They’d been at this plan for nearly a week straight to this point. And the time to debate and try and find alternative routes had passed. Sennaris had already met with Honeywell and the invitations sent. The entire structure of the plan was in motion; if they backed away or changed anything, it would collapse.

“R-right. . .yes.” the voice of The Harbinger said softly.

She had peered toward the pale old elf as he spoke; seeing there was nothing but determination on his face, and honest in his voice made her reason with her anger. She nodded, taking a seat beside her love; and Koltun placed a fiendish claw against her frozen hand. He also knew the pain that was manifesting here. Lazarius was like a brother to him as well.

“Please. . .continue.” she added after feeling the touch from the demon beside her.

Marseille nodded his head and motioned toward Sennaris and Zalra.

“There is always a chance that something could be turned upside down. We don’t know how the night is going to play out. The main goal should be that if something does end up turning in their favor; we regroup, and get word to everyone.”

He extended a withered gloved hand; its slender finger pointing toward the two women.

“Sennaris and Zalra have the best chance to relay information should we need to get word from inside. . .to out. Disguised as a Lady of the hosting house; you should be able to go where you please, Azurestar.”

Zalra would remain silent; She just nodded understanding fully what needed to be done.

“If something goes wrong outside, the house will go into lock down. We can adapt. The key at that point is to handle Dawnseeker at all cost. But it is imperative that anything that constitutes a breech in our safety inside, needs to be made known to those of us who are free to move on the grounds.”

Everyone seemed to be in agreement. Eyes would pass from one person to the next, looks of determination, confidence. It was a key to their survival if things did in fact go south.

“And that is-th why Operation: Mus-thic Box is-th our fall back plan!” squealed the little voice of the gnomish doctor sitting on the outside edge of the table.

Brox Sulfin sat beside him and groaned, the miserable Dark Iron dwarf puffing away on his pipe while billowing out clouds of smoke, he shook his head hearing the gnome speak. The pair had just recently returned from their long and painful trip to Searing Gorge, and were eager to aid however they could. Sadly though, Brox did have to return to Stormwind; lest the internal structure of their business there suffer further.

“Only if and when. . . if it should it be required, Operation. . “ Marseille said as he begrudgingly paused hearing the name inside his own head.

“Mus-thic Box!” the little gnome added so as to help complete the sentence.

Marseille sighed with an utterly large lump in his throat as the ridiculous name was heard.

“Yes. . .that.” he added shortly after. “Then we should all consider that as the point of no return. Should we require Doctor Whistletorque and his. . . marvelous contraptions. It will be from a position of desperation, and we will be unable to turn back.”

“The illustrious Lazarius Kash’ebahl and his little network of accomplices. How typical that I was the one that had to weed out this filthy garden simply because some incompetent fool was too lazy to realize that we had an infestation.” seethed the Magister.

To be continued... In Depths Below:Masquerade,Part 8

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not-a-statement · 6 years ago

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Chasing ghosts. Chapter 1

I’m finally posting the first chapter.

Forgive me for my grammar, like I said I'm not a native speaker, but I hope you'll find it at least readable.

As always big thanks to @edward-or-ford for all his help and guidance

I’ll soon figure out how to create a master post, but just for now I’ll leave a link to a prologue (if you haven’t read it) here

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter

New City, NY, August 31st 2024

Dipper set aside the empty glass and glanced around at the merry people gathered to celebrate the Pines twins’ birthday. There were friends, a couple of relatives, colleagues. Mostly the Zach Turner’s colleagues: Dipper himself did not have personal contact with many people every day. A freelance journalist is called freelance for a reason. But if you are a stockbroker, even a beginner, then you might be in this kind of crowd. All of them fit, most of them tanned (probably from a solarium), wearing fancy Trussardi polos, a full set in order to impress you. To make you believe that you are looking at a wealthy confident man who knows no worries and ready tackle any money issues.

No, It’s not that Dipper could blame them, it's just their job to look successful and reliable. But from all this dazzling crowd hanging out in the backyard of the house he began to feel a ruffling sensation in his eyes. As if somebody poured a bucket of transparent glue on each of them and after they were shot with a sequins canon or whatever. It’s just seemed that each movement of these people somehow refracted the rays of sunlight at such an angle to hit Dipper directly in the eyes with a piercing beam. But anyway, Mabel was probably over-delighted with this kind display. Somehow it became a sort of tradition for the past ten years: what was painful for Dipper was pretty joyfull for Mabel.

Pines mentally kicked himself for that last thought. It sounded terrible, even if he didn’t say it out loud. And it sounded even worse coming from the thoughts of a loving brother.

Hah, a loving ... brother. It's odd even to put these two words in one sentence…

Another mental kick. Don’t you even dare to think about your feelings for your own sister, not now. Better to not ever.

Disgusting thoughts.

Wrong feelings.

Bad brain. Very bad and being an ass right now. We need to focus on what is important: today's birthday. Stan could get to us from his backwoods. Dad and Mom are also going to visit in a couple of days, when they return from the next trip around the country. They are probably happy with their new life without the constant care of children, busy only with each other and with their dreams.

Everyone was happy. Why couldn’t Dipper at least relax a little and pretend that he enjoyed this noise, instead of constantly thinking about escape paths from this house filled with smiling mannequins and idle talk? From the house where every piece of furniture, every spoon from the gift set and every word uttered by its inhabitants would forever remind Dipper of what he lost, and more than that, what he could never get. It was taken away from him by this slender hard-built bastard with a radiant smile from ear to ear and the sweetest speeches that he poured in huge doses into the ears of everyone around him. All these manners, courtesy. Damn, was it really only Dipper that was sick of this man-made likeness? Did no one else see his essence? Why did no one else see him as the dirty bastard he was? And why was Mabel, sweet smart Mabel, so blinded by all his fake ... this fake ... facade?

Dipper let out a deep sigh and reached for the glass again.

You know what? Forget it. You once again begin to come up with wild ideas and seeing things. Not every man hovers around Mabel actually turns out to be a psychopath, a juvenile maniac or a bunch of wild Fae creatures.

Yes, but I was right then!

Because then you tried to protect your sister, not the girl you are in love with.

As if there is any difference.

Newsflash. Of course there is. Want an example? Okay second year at college, the black guy what’s-his-face? Always found an excuse to hang in your dorm room with Mabel. You do remember him, right? And how long did it take your eye to recover from swelling.

Hey, it's not my fault that he got into a fight.

It happens when you get a lot of suspicious glares.

There weren’t so many of them ...

Dude, he still probably thinks you are a racist or something.

The rumble of a bourbon being filled in a glass was almost a lullaby. Dipper did not even notice how he filled the vessel almost to the brim.

Well, that was great: he was talking to himself now! Not that it was the first time. He often arranged internal disputes on this or that topic, clashing his rational part with itself or with the sensual, but never before his emotional side sounded so offended and pitiful.

Dipper frowned, sipping an amber drink, which burned his tongue and throat, but at the same time it became a little easier to consider everything that was happening and himself in it. With this ease, eyelids grew heavy, thoughts became slower - only the footage of the last six months of his life began to flash before his eyes.

If it could be called that. A life ...

Life is something sensible, controlled in the most of things. With no comprehensible forecast, only with assumptions - and that's enough, believe me.

And this kind of floating in the time-space with rare interactions with random objects floating there as well could hardly be called a life. It's like flying on autopilot without a specific purpose. And even you can not enjoy a journey in spite of what they say. A kind of asteroid in the cold space.

Or more like....

Perhaps it's ... like a satellite? Yes, a satellite that spends its entire life quietly orbiting its planet - a circle after a circle, year after year. It's boring, but you can adapt, especially if you do not think about why you get in this orbit and what happened before. If you do not replay in your mind moments from the past when at the age of fifteen you started to notice things that should not have been noticed, when your sweating hands, weak legs and lack of words turned the simplest conversation into an attraction of strangeness and awkwardness. If you do not replay memories of prom night over and over again in your head, which you found an excuse not to go to having no date to bring along, and your sister spent the whole night accompanied by that tall blond guy from her Spanish class and returned only the morning after. Or how you secretly threw out letters from the MIT that was ready to tear you away from the opportunity to choose a college in the same city as Mabel did.

Collect all these pieces together, and here you are - Dipper Pines - a proud mayor of the city called "What am I doing with my life?". Population: one person.

No, not like that.

And you are ready to go out into the streets and tear leaflets to passers-by with an invitation to the seminar "Are you too happy with your life? I will tell you how to get rid of this feeling. Every Sunday at a local community center. BYOB"

Yes, that's better. I can at least raise a little money.

Wait, what am I talking about? I need to open my eyes ...

A little more ... a little more ...

Oh, No! Bad idea!

Too light! Too light and too many people!

Oh... damn it …

Hmm ... although what am I? This was like it before I fell into my thoughts.

And yes - I'm still here. In the backyard of this hellhole, where Turner dragged my May ... um ... my ... my sister in his clawed paws. And from this hell I will never get her out of.

Dipper opened his eyes a little wider and looked at Zach's two-story house with complete disdain. Painted in a sky blue color, with windows washed up to the illusion of their absence and a neat backyard with garden gnomes, miniature paths lined with wooden footbridges, solar-powered lanterns and a low fence separating this site from the neighboring ones, it fit perfectly into a quiet family scenery, which New City of himself represented. This house came in no comparison with a small apartment in Brooklyn, where the twins has lived for almost a year after moving to New York. The apartment, which was a witness of moments of happiness and sadness, where the TV sometimes wasn’t turn off til morning because of the another marathon of cheesy horror movies, which housed the whole world of two closest friends, who loved each other sincerely and unselfishly. And which kept the secrets of one of them about where in its sincerity and disinterestedness there were footnotes in small print.

At the age of sixteen, Dipper told himself that only time was needed and that everything would end, everything would pass.

Now that’s a funny statement. Like a film or a book with an open ending, it gives a choice. For example, how long will it take or what will end? How many more will a small gray spinning top spin before shaking and gradually slowing its course until it stops? And will it stop at all?

Well, anyway, Dipper learned one thing - nothing can depend only on his will and obey the dry logic and, therefore, control. At the age of eighteen, he began to feel how gradually the situation began to develop according to his own scenario, regardless of his efforts to manage it. At twenty-two he could hardly find an explanation for his actions and decisions, and six months ago …

Six months ago, the satellite nevertheless descended from orbit and began its journey through the cold dark and empty nothingness. Six months ago, time had finally passed and everything was over.

On that day he walked from the editorial office with a new assignment. It was Friday, there was nowhere to hurry, although on the streets of New York even if you do not want to you have to merge with the eternally rushing crowd. There was a smell of spring in the air, and no matter how cliched this phrase was, damn it, it was true. Even Dipper felt something like that. Light and warm whiff. For the short time that he walked from the editorial office, the world around acquired more color, more smells - not literally, New York, with its busy streets, always supplied smells even above normal. Everything around seemed to come to life, blossoming in all its glory.

Not surprisingly, Mabel was always so happy about the arrival of spring, wherever we were. Maybe I should learn from her? Observe her today while taking a walk in Central Park - why the guy can’t invite his sister to take a walk in Central Park? Also, it’s now so beautiful there - bare trees are just beginning to be covered with the first signs of foliage, old men and women and young lovers are walking slowly along the paths of the park, contemplating what’s happening around them ...

It is possible to pretend that there is no hidden sadness that there is no emptiness inside. You can just move your legs, do not think about anything and absorb the sensations. And all this next to the most beloved person in the whole world …

Immersed in these thoughts and not particularly paying attention to scurrying hurried to and fro people around him, Dipper did not notice how a lazy and pacified smile began to creep across his face.

At least today life is good!

Mabel was waiting for him in the Ferrara bakery on Grand Street, where she was heading after another interview. It turns out that it's not so easy to find a job in New York for a mobile designer, but Mabel was not one of those people who despairs even after four months of searching. Although it seemed to Dipper that her enthusiasm was already at an end, and only by some miracle she still finds the strength to get up in the morning. He wanted to cheer her up, somehow raise her spirits, even if she does not admit that she is sad. Show that he is near, that he was always and will be there.

He planned everything: meet Mabel after work, a walk in Central Park, pizza for dinner and several pre-prepared playlists to choose from - romantic comedies, musicals, horror films and detectives. When they were sixteen, they could spend the whole night before the TV screen watching this kind of marathon of films. It's clear, they are older now and they have work and responsibilities, but, hey - today is Friday.

Simple and sincere. Only two of them, together.

It sounds like a date. Something like that…

From Worcester Street, on which stood the editorial building, it was ten minutes to go to the venue. Turn to Grand Street and go east, bypassing Green, Mercer, Broadway, Crosby, Lafayette, Center, Baxter and Mulberry Street. Piece of cake.

Despite the fact that after the turn the only thing that he had to do was to be on the straight line all the time, Dipper repeatedly checked the route in Google maps to make sure that he does not get lost and will be in place on time. Yes, it sounds odd, but New York is a big city, and it needs to be able to navigate. He didn’t want to repeat the story when Mabel mistakenly left for Jersey City and Dipper had to explain to her how to send her geolocation message to find it and pick her up.

Although now, probably, Dipper with all the desire could not not find the place where his sister was waiting. Huge signboards to the owners of the establishment seemed to be not enough, so they hoisted a giant plastic cones with a multicolored ice cream on both sides of the entrance, put a showcase with sweets on the street, and on the visor above the entrance for some reason they’ve put an old red baker's truck or something like that. Only the red carpet leading inside was missing. Oh, no, here it is …

Mabel sat in the far corner at a table for two. Before her stood a half empty mug of latte (obviously with a syrup of bubble gum, how can one drink it at all?) And a barely touched strawberry cheesecake. A slight dreamy smile played on her lips, a look through half-open eyelids was directed against the wall opposite her, the cheek is propped up by the palm, and the head is slightly tilted. Oh, so might it be that today she was at luck?

And how did it always happen that in any situation, in any position and with any expression of her face, Mabel was more beautiful than all the girls, that he’s ever seen in his life?..

"Hi, sis," Dipper said with a smile. "How was today?"

Whatever Mabel dreamed of, she was deep in her thoughts, because only the creak of the chair being moved in front of her and the appearance of her brother in her field of vision could bring her back to reality.

"Oh, hello, Dip," she chirped smiling wider. "I didn’t expect you so early."

“What?” Dipper was slightly taken aback. “I thought that I was even five minutes late ... wait, is this sarcasm? ...”

"No, no," Mabel said, quickly removing her elbow from the table and tucking the hair into her ear. She scanned the bakery, as if not quite understanding where she was.

“What time is it now?”

"Um, seven o'clock, just the time we agreed to meet”

"Oh, already?" Mabel lowered her eyes slightly and began fiddling with the tips of her hair.

"The time flew by so quickly," she added in a half whisper. Her cheeks glowed softly.

“Yes, already” something suspicious was in the behavior of the sister. But put it off, Pines. You were going to offer something.

"Well, how did it go this time? Everything’s worked out? Looking forward to the call?”

"Or I can call first," Mabel playfully giggled.

“Mmm? Can you call them first for what?”

Mabel raised her eyes to her brother, in which a certain perplexity was read. For another couple of seconds, the sweet mist of dreams in her gaze dissipated until something clicked in her head, and she finally realized what Dipper was talking about.

"Ah, yes," she did her jazz hands "an interview. Well, it seems that next month you’ll still have to pay for the apartment. "She sighed and took a mug of coffee with both hands, lowering her head," again ... "

"Hey, hey," Dipper reached out and covered Mabel's arm, "it's all right. It's not important, the main thing is that you find a place where you’ll be appreciated and where it’ll be interesting for you to work and manifest yourself. You're the most creative person in this world. Heck, they're just idiots, if they didn’t take you right away!”

Mabel looked into Dipper's eyes and sadly, but sincerely smiled.

"I'll help you with what I can and will be around," Dipper smiled back.

God, how beautiful she is. There were so many guys in high school who liked her that the fingers of Ford's hands would not be enough to count them. True, none of those who had the luck to be with her, did not last more than two or three weeks, because none of them saw that behind the beauty of her there is also a very sharp mind. The whole universe with its rules and colors was stored in this charming fair-haired head. But none of them seemed to notice this.

Unlike Dipper.

Mabel embodied all the things that he lacked so much: freedom, creativity, infinite energy. Without it, he would not be a whole person. No one would have him learn to enjoy life and look at the world from a different angle, different from the position of dry logic.

"Thank you, bro bro," Mabel said quietly. "It means a lot to me, really”

"Any time, May," Dipper snapped his hand away and looked at his watch. "We still have plenty of time until the sun sets. It's about 20 minutes by metro to the Central Park, so I thought that we could wind up our heads a little. What do you say? You didn’t have any plans for tonight, did you?”

Mabel looked away and blushed profusely, covering her mouth with her palm and softly giggling.

Oh no. No no no! He screwed up, did he? He said it as if he was inviting her on a date. Oh, damn, oh, damn it! He rehearsed this phrase so much that it sounded like a simple friendly proposal in order to funk up anyway ?! She knows, she knows for sure, and now this situation will become even more awkward.

Set the panic aside! I need to figure out how to get out of this. Just laugh it off or try to explain what he meant.

Shit, why his palms are so sweaty? Is he in the eighth grade again?

“It sounds tempting, Dip. I’d really like to take a walk now …”

Oh, my God, phew. Everything is fine.

"... but, you see ..."

But? What’s for but? But what?

"... I really don’t know how it happened ... it seems that I have a date tonight!" Mabel finished her phrase. Her eyes were just glowing with happiness. The smile was broader and more dreamy than before, which made Dipper feel cold in the lower abdomen.

“I really didn’t know that this is the case in real life, but when I was walking from Five Points here ... i mean, our eyes just met, and I realized that he’d come up to me and ask me some question or say something... I just don’t understand how you constantly experience such stress every time you try to talk to a girl, this has never happened to me ...”

But Dipper wasn’t listening anymore. Only now he finally noticed all the details surrounding them. Strawberry cheesecake - when was the last time Mabel allowed herself something sweet in the city? Of course, they were not so poor, but given the fact that Mabel still did not have a permanent job, she tried to save money and not squander the money of her brother over trifles. So it was a treat. Then, how did Dipper not notice the empty espresso cup standing on his side of the table? He was too busy contemplating his sister to draw attention to this and to the fact that Mabel was constantly fiddling a napkin in her hand, on which was visible the pen-written sequence of numbers and one word.

Zach.

He left her his phone number. Who does this now? What kind of moron should one be to do this, instead of just dictating a number to be recorded in the phone?

That invisible, light breath that warmed Dipper so far from the moment he left the editorial office was instantly replaced by an importunate cold draft, from which all the muscles of his face grew cold and numb, turning nis face into a fixed mask that did not express any emotion. The bright March evening began to be replaced by a dark emptiness.

And Mabel kept talking and talking. She was extremely excited by what was happening: so many emotions, so many assumptions and hopes. As many as many times the only one phrase sounded in Dipper's head:

It happened again …

Sooner or later, it should have happened, but why today? On the day when he finally felt a barely perceptible wave of happiness?

Sometimes it seems that the universe itself is against you. Whether you achieve something desirable say some fun and joy come to life - bam! Sign here, please.

On the one hand, you can, of course, decide that this is "designed" so, that it’s fate and junk, that everything is natural and the time has come. The time for whatever - for example, the time to give up.

On the other hand, one can regard this same "bam" from the Universe as an appeal not to relax and to act further, to become better, to grow and all that.

You can, of course, just not react at all.

It depends.

A lot of dependencies happens to be all around us. Someone sits for hours with a guitar, learns to play the way his or hers favorite performers do, someone shoves career needle into his or hers veins, someone’s obsessed with science - yes, there are plenty of examples.

And love is something you can depend on too.

It’s even addictive.

And for someone who already has a strong addiction, something smoother will ... be like ...

Damn ... words ... how to make them into sentences? ..

So, enough for today's memories.

And speaking about strong and smooth ... I need another drink.

The glass stood on the table right here. Where is it ... hey?

Hey!

What the...?

"You tell me. That's enough for you, kid."

Kid? Oh he didn’t...

Dipper opened his eyes, trying to make out the speaker with him. It would have been better if it was anyone, but Zach.

"I think you might have the wrong glass, buddy," he croaked, trying to focus on the figure of the man next to him holding a vessel with amber corn liquid.

“Oh yeah? And didn’t you have the wrong party, knucklehead? The last thing I want to see right now is how my nephew gets drunk as hell at his birthday party”

Wait…

Stan? ..

“No, Pope John Paul II. Who do you think?”

In a second, Dipper's eyes flew open, and consciousness returned to online mode. Was he talking all this time out loud?

“I ... um” Dipper uncomfortably fidgeting on the chair, adjusting the edges of the shirt that was pulled up and briskly brushing his hair with fingers.

"Stan ... how long ... are you sitting here?"

"What? You wanna know how much of that nonsense that you muttered I heard? Don’t worry, your secrets will die with me.”

Oh no…

Dipper swallowed nervously and nodded uncertainly, looking before him. Stan responded with a laugh and added, changing his tone from more strict to good-natured:

"It's a joke, kid," he lifted his massive hand onto his nephew's shoulder, "there's nothing for me to blackmail you. This time.”

If they were in another place and under different circumstances, Dipper would have laughed along with his Gruncle. Now he did not even try, because together with laughter it would have turned out to be some silly awkward likeness.

"And yet, what made you to portray that guy ... Kain Rivers? Give you a piece of cake in the hand, and there’ll be complete similarity.”

"You mean Keanu Reeves?"

“Him, too.”

Dipper sighed and lowered his head, covered his face with his hands. Stan, having sipped a little bourbon from the glass, put his hand on his shoulder again.

“Seriously, Dip, what's wrong?” he added worried.

“Nothing, I'm fine” telling lies to a man who has proved over many years that he is the most understanding and caring member of the family left a disgusting taste on the tip of his tongue. If someone than it would be Stan to always be able to hear out and help. He would lay down his bones for the well-being of his family. Maybe he can at least somehow pour out his soul? ..

“What did you feel when Gruncle Ford disappeared in the portal? What’s it like to understand that your closest friend’s gone forever?”

Stan also sighed, setting aside his glass, and turned to face Dipper.

“Listen. You and Mabel, as long as I can remember, have always been together. You grew up, studied, moved to another cities. As I said, you rarely see such a relationship between a brother and a sister. But sooner or later, both of you should have had other companions of life. This is normal - it’s so arranged in the world. People get married, have families, children, invite each other to their dinners, go to work, dig in the garden in the backyard. It’s not the same as getting lost in another dimension for thirty years. Mabel just got married, she didn’t disappear from your life. Yes, now you’ll be separated not by the walls of the rooms, but by a good one and a half hour drive, but ... I’m not a good speaker... anyway,” - he drank some more whiskey.

"You two are better than we were with my brother. I'm telling you this, Ford claimed it until his last breath - believe me. Even if you were separated by space and time, you’d find a way to find yourselves... I mean to find each other. Do you understand what I mean?”

Dipper looked at the old man. In Stan's glance, God bless his heart, confidence and love were read. As always. And although he did not come even a bit close to understanding what was going on in Dipper's heart, his words still warmed.

"Yes, I do, Gruncle," Dipper smiled slightly. "Thank you."

"Well, it takes more than a simple thanks to be stuffed" Stan laughed and rose from his seat, leaning on the cane, "if you knew what they feed you on the plane, you’d understand what I mean. Next time I fly business class, and you pay. I spotted like a table with snacks inside, it's time to visit it.”

With these words he headed toward the house, stepping unsteadily and constantly leaning on his cane. Dipper saluted him in the style of Lando Calrissian and frowned. It was not fair to upset Stan today with talk like that. So much of a burden was falling on his shoulders lately, and then there's just a glimpse of joy. Still, not every day his grand-niece marries.

It's a pity that Ford did not live to see this day. I definitely need to take a couple of days off and go to Oregon. Stan becomes too weak to regularly care for the grave.

“Dipper! Bro-bro!”

Oh no.

Dipper pulled a smile on his face and turned to the source of the sound. There she was, flying to him in a light purple summer dress with a white collar.

"Silly drunken little brother. Where did you disappear?“ Mabel laughed, catching him with an empty glass and a half-empty bottle.

Dipper rolled his eyes and smiled wider.

"Mabel, we're the same age. Also I noticed that one bottle of champagne was open before the guests arrived”

He frowned in a mocking way and rubbed his chin,

“Hmm ... But who drank the champagne?..”

He pretended to be chewing a pen, thinking hard.

Mabel stuck out her tongue at her brother and laughed loudly.

"You’re such a nerd!"

She plopped down next to him and laid her head on his shoulder.

“Just think of it, we’re twenty-five now. Do people even have to live so long?”

"I'm still surprised that you even lived to be of age, considering the amount of sugar you absorb daily ... Ow!" light elbow pokes from her still caught him off guard.

“You deserved that. Be grateful that Mister Tickles didn’t show up for such conversations with your sister.”

“Okaaaay. Mabel, are you sure you’re twenty-five?” Dipper quickly moved away from Mabel, who was ready to attack on his brother's ribs with his fingers spread out, and raised both hands, "Okay, okay! No more of that!”

"Good brother." Mabel nodded with a satisfied look. "And now, if you'll allow me, jokes aside."

She took a small rectangular bundle from her handbag hanging from her shoulder on a thin chain and solemnly handed it to Dipper.

“Here!”

Dipper took the package from his sister's hands and for a few seconds admired this neatly wrapped in a nice-to-feel gift paper object. It was a pity to spoil such beauty.

“Come on, open it!”

In one motion Dipper opened the package, and in his hands was a large, thick notebook of dark blue. On his soft leather cover was woven golden threads of a small pine tree. Dipper carefully opened the title page, which was encoded with a neat letter. This time Dipper's face was lit up with a sincere smile - they invented the cipher together, many years ago, when in the classroom they passed notes to each other or left them in lockers.

"Wow ..." Dipper sighed. "I ... um ... thanks, Mabel."

"You're welcome, Dip," his sister shone, "I just wondered where it's seen that Dipper wouldn’t have a journal, would he?" she again laughed and wrapped her arms around him, pulling her brother in a bear hug.

“Happy birthday, Dipper.”

"Happy birthday, Mabel," he replied, breathing in the fragrance of her floral perfume. "I ... um-uh ..." he cleared his throat and pulled away. "My present ... it... I decided not to carry it with me, so it's in the house, but ... I'm sure you'll like it too.

“It would be better if it was so.” Mabel said haughtily. With these words she jumped up, grabbing Dipper by the sleeve of his shirt and dragging him toward the house.

"There's a whole bunch of them there! Gifts!” she skipped off to the house, taking her stumbling brother along with her. "Let's go! I can’t wait to open each one right now!”

* * *

“Son of a…” the lighter was still sent to the garbage because of malfunctioning, and now all the hope remained that the houses still had matches. Dipper had already rummaged through all the drawers in the kitchen, but not even one sucker was found in this abundance of kitchen utensils and cutlery, such an absurd abundance for the apartment, now serving as a lonely young man's refuge.

Dipper's gaze wandered around the kitchen, the space in his eyes doubled, quadrified - in general it was multiplying in every possible way, and it was extremely difficult to focus on something definite.

Was it really necessary to get so drunk? He did not have a car in New York for the time being, he used to travel by public transport and a taxi, but this is not an excuse for finding a pub on his way home to Brooklyn and staying there until midnight. The morning will be very bad. Very painful and bad.

But, it looks like this is the problem of tomorrow's Dipper, not today's, who has a real business to do now.

He held his hand to the countertop, and staggered to the gas stove, which looked like the last chance to light a damned cigarette, clamped in his teeth. Unsafe last chance. After meditating for couple of seconds, Dipper shook his head, muttering "No, sir," and went to investigate further. Still an eternity, according to the present chronology of Dipper, was wasted - there were no lighters or matches in the house, so that the stove was again in his field of vision.

Still adhering to the nearby interior for a safety net, Dipper drove to the suspicious fire-breathing inhabitant of his house. The fire was only lit from the fifth attempt, and, bending over to the hotplate itself and almost putting his shirt collar on fire, Dipper finally sucked in the pungent tobacco smoke.

And, it turned out that trying to smoke his first cigarette in life right now was a bad idea. Even disgusting. Not only that, he immediately became overwhelmed with a heavy cough and the shaking of his diaphragm awakened something dark in the stomach, consisting of half of bourbon, and half of the birthday cake.

Oh, shit, shit, SHIT!

To the left from the kitchen into the corridor, to the end ... lights on...

Where’s this switch ?!

Oh no! ..

FUCK!!!

At the last second Dipper managed to touch the toilet before he utterly unpleasantly vomited. All thoughts and emotions were compressed into a dot, leaving the consciousness with a devastatingly pure emptiness.

At some point, it might even have seemed that Dipper had blacked out, but as soon as the last urge receded, he straightened leaning with his hands on the rim of the toilet bowl and stood on his unsteady legs and went to the sink, much more tired and much less drunk.

At least giving the face a splash and rinsing the mouth with a freshener will not hurt.

And what do we have here? Oh, nothing, just your dirty still green face with a week stubble and some substance smeared around your mouth.

Oh, gross, ew!

He pulled off his shirt right over his head, doused his face with cold water, rinsed his mouth and staggered into his room.

Well, that's my life now. Drinking, no permanent job, a broken heart ... what could be better?

Dipper hobbled to the bed and plumped on it, without even bothering to remove the veil and pull off his trousers.

At least here I can quit pretending, he thought, as the tears came down bombarding his pillow.

#pinecest #fanfiction #chasing ghosts

21 notes · View notes

k-renne · 8 years ago

Text

King of Pain VII

A/N: I know it’s late but I’m going to post this now cause I’m impatient, final chapter, warning NSFW at the end. Let me know what you think 😊

Hux’s words echoed in your head, “You two deserve each other” and “You monster”. Though Hux had no credibility, you saw a point in his words, and you were beginning to doubt your authority. With everything that had happened in the last few weeks, from the lives lost to your relationship with Kylo, you felt overwhelmed.

You needed to get away from everyone; luckily you knew just the spot. Martha tried to follow you, to find out where you were going, but you had anticipated it and you threw her off your trail. You felt bad but you didn’t want to be found, not this time.

Before this you holed yourself away, refusing to speak to everyone except a few of your closest trustees. Kylo himself tried to visit you, coming with gifts and good will, you refused him as well. He was getting more persistent too, stubbornly waiting outside your door until security came and escorted him away. You decided to avoid his confrontation by sneaking away.

What you didn’t know was that Kylo was following you; he was a little behind because you had thrown him off, but he hadn’t lost you yet. Unfortunately it had started to rain, huge grey clouds blocking his vision. Even with it now down pouring, he was on a mission, he had given you your space and waited patiently. But he felt very deeply for you and he could only wait so long, he was worried after all. He wasn’t the type to avoid confrontation like this.

You started the fire in your small cabin, warming it up and bringing some light to the almost dark as night room. Storm clouds had stolen daylight away from you, so the glow of the flame would have to do for now. Your clothes are drenched so you change into your much more comfortable nightdress and robe, it’s not like you were going to see anyone anyways.

That was when you heard a knock on the door, startling you from your peace. There was only one person it could be; it had to be him, Kylo Ren.

You were proved correct when you opened the door, to see a black shadow at the door, lightning flashing to show you Kylo’s angry face. You’re about to close the door on him but he blocks you with his hand, forcing his way in.

“You would honestly let me suffer out in that weather, what has gotten in to you Princess,” He scowls, beginning to strip his wet robes.

“Perhaps,” You look away from him, crossing your arms in discontent. Kylo strides over to you angrily, forcing you to look at him by cupping your face.

“What, don’t tell me that lover boy’s words actually got to you,” He sneers, inches away from your face. You’re angry now too, and push him away with a hard shove. He barely budges, moving closer to trap your arms against his chest. You squirm and try and get away, but his hold is like a vice and it only gets tighter the more you move. The water from his clothes is quickly transferring to you, easily soaking your thin garments.

“Ah get off, you’re all wet,” You squeal, pushing him again. Kylo just laughs darkly at you, keeping his hold around you. He was very riled up to day, as a hunter always loved a good chase. He was caught off guard when he looked down, seeing the extent of damage on your now almost see through nightdress. He can’t help but stare at your breasts, trapped in their transparent confines. This time when you push him he lets go.

You stand back from him, crossing your arms again, which only makes them stand out more. What in the hell is he staring at? Then you look down, and realize the conundrum your in. Your hands scramble to cover yourself with your robe, but the effect has already taken place, and you can see it in Kylo’s eyes.

“Just… stay away from me!” You demand, moving to cover yourself more under the blankets of the bed. Kylo watches you, like a cat watching their prey, but decides to turn his attention back to the fire. That’s when he begins stripping off more of his clothes.

“What on earth are you doing? Stop that this instance,” You yell at him. He does, but only for a moment before stripping down to his underwear.

“Oh don’t you dare remove that,” You threaten.

“I won’t, I’m just drying my clothes off; they’re all wet. Maybe you should do the same,” He suggests.

“And whose fault is that?” You quip.

“Well I’d say it’s the one who decided to keep on avoiding me for no good reason, I know his words bothered you but they’re not true, you shouldn’t be giving him that much power Y/N,” He tells you. You’re a little distracted by the sight of his almost nude body, which looks impossibly bigger then it did before. Though his words resonate with you.

“I know, but it still hurts,” You admit.

“But he’s so wrong Y/N, I know I may not be the best authority on this, trust me when I say you’re angel compared to every Royal I’ve ever met and I’ve seen them all,” He admonishes you, kneeling down next to your bedside.

“And what happened, it wasn’t your fault,” He adds.

“No Kylo, I have to take responsibility, I was being selfish and it cost my people,” You retort.

“Selfish! You saved your people from a much worse fate. I know you know this, this isn’t you Y/N. Don’t let his words get to you like this,” He says, gently stroking the side of your face.

“It’s more like I just traded one monster for another,” You snarl, lashing out at Kylo.

“Oh that was low Y/N,” He frowns. He steps away from you, to hide how much your words just hurt him. Did you really see him as a monster, after everything, he had thought he had risen above that. How did he regress back to square one all over again, no it was even worse than that. Kylo balled his fist by his side, digging his nails into his palm. He just wanted to scream right now.

He turns back to you seeing you turned away and balled up in blankets, you were shaking. As hurt as he is this pangs his heart, he hates seeing you upset like this.

“Y/N,” He gently places a hand on your shoulder.

“Go away,” You grumble.

“Y/N,” He repeats, this time more form. He was determined to get past this childishness of yours.

“Go away, no monsters allowed,” You sneer at him. With a growl Kylo yanks the blankets off of you, making you curl into yourself and hid your face in your pillow. He takes that away too of course, so you just bury your face into the mattress. You’re still trembling as he turns you over, seeing your tear stricken face before you can cover it with your hands. You couldn’t let him see you cry.

“Y/N, princess, you’re crying,” His voice cracks, heart leaping to his throat when he sees the extent of your distress. If this were because of him, he’d never forgive himself. He lies down besides you, and a sob escapes your mouth, and then another. Soon you’re full out sobbing, almost struggling to breathe.

Kylo turns to comfort you, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head against your hair. You can’t see but he’s crying too now, feeling heartbroken at the sight of your anguish.

“Shh, it’s alright precious, it’s alright,” He coos, softly petting your hair.

“No it’s not!” You whimper, why else would you be crying, if everything were okay?

“Y/N, please,” He begs, this time you can hear the despair in his tone.

“If you’re a monster than what am I? What am I if I’ve fallen in love with a monster?” You ask, barely making out words in between cries.

“What?” This makes Kylo sit straight up. You loved him.

“You love me?” He asks, more to himself.

“No I hate you! Go away,” You cry.

“No you don’t Y/N,” Kylo counters.

“Yes, I do!” This time you turn to face him, to show him you mean you words (you don’t of course, you’re just afraid of the truth).

“No you don’t,” He repeats, softly this time. He places himself over you, beginning to cage you in with his body.

“I do,” You say again, with no malice behind it this time, you try but it comes across as loving instead. Your feelings were betraying you. Kylo is closing in on you and you can’t escape the warmth that his eyes hold.

“You do,” He agrees, you did love him, against all odds. He’s inches away and closes the gap, slanting his lips over yours in a very emotional kiss. He pulls away.

“I hate you too Y/N,” He chuckles, then going in to kiss you again. The kiss quickly grows more passionate and lustful as Kylo deepens it with his tongue. Before his hand on your hip gets the chance to wander, you gently push him. Kylo reluctantly breaks away from the kiss, eyes silently questioning you.

“Can we just lie here for a moment?” You ask.

“Sure,” He replies, shifting to spoon you.

“You know my bed would be a lot more comfortable,” He comments.

“Oh shut it,” You shush him. You can feel the vibrations of his laughter against your back, making you crack a small smile

“Hmm but I’d just love to see you in my sheets again Princess,” He flirts, trailing a hand along the side of your body.

“I’m going to slap you,” You warn, not intending to follow through.

“Do you really mean that? Hmm,” He teases, making you squeak when he gently squeezes your butt. It’s all a game of course, you don’t really mind, actually you kind of love it but just giving in was never any fun. You were much brattier then that and you were going to make him suffer that pressing erection for as long as possible.

“Kylo!” You shout at him.

“What are you going to do about it sweet cheeks?” He teases. His hands are getting more aggressive in their exploration, squeezing and running over as much as his meaty palms could hold. At the same time he sucks hard on your neck, which is sure to leave a mark but also makes you emit a sound foreign to your ears, a quiet moan.

“What was that Y/N? I think I need to hear you again, louder,” He demands, continuing to kiss that sweet spot. You do of course, which is music to his ears.

“Y/N, come on, face me. We can lie together for as long as you want afterwards,” He pleads.

“No, go away,” You say jokingly this time; you liked to mess with Kylo.

“Wrong answer,” He states, making you roll over on your back and capturing your arms above your head. He kisses you again, nipping and sucking your lips.

“Y/N, I know it doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but can I take this off?” He asks, referring to your nightgown.

“Yes, if you really want to,” You say.

“I do Y/N, I want to show you just how much I hate you,” He adds, slipping your clothes off and above your head. He removes your underwear and his own follow shortly afterwards. He takes a moment to appreciate the feel of your naked skin against his own, before sliding into you.

“Ahh Kylo,” You hiss. He’s pretty damn big, like the rest of him.

“You okay Princess? You’re really tight,” He probes. He doesn’t want to hurt you

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I just need a moment,” You answer.

“Just relax,” He purrs, kneading the tissue of your breast. He kisses you lovingly before he begins to move.

It’s intense, even if he isn’t moving very fast; it’s a level of intimacy that you’d never thought you’d reach with a man. With the way that he’s taking care of you, continuously checking in, lavishing your body with affection, it makes you feel loved and then some. Your hands scratch at his back as he picks up the pace, as a reaction to the pleasure that you’re feeling.

Kylo grunts, as he tries not to just collapse from everything that he’s feeling. Sweat trickles down his brow from his exertion; muscles tense as he holds his weight above you. He groans at the sensation of your nails raking down his back, god you drove him wild. He was elated that you said you loved him, because he felt as he had fallen a long time ago and it was getting increasingly more difficult to hold back such string feelings.

“You’re so beautiful Y/N, like a goddess,” He praises. This time you move to meet his hips.

“Oh god I love you Y/N, I love you so much,” He rushes out. Soon, you both reach your release, and he really does collapse. You don’t mind the weight; in fact you kind of like this level of closeness, being fully pressed against him while he’s still inside of you.

“Sorry,” He grunts an apology, moving away. You immediately turn to curl up into him, lying together like you wanted to before. He places his arm around you, stroking your back as you begin to fall asleep.

“I told you that you were wrong Y/N,” Kylo says after a long pause.

“What are you talking about?” You question.

“About me, you were wrong. When I said I wanted to marry you I really meant it, I’d told you I’d prove it to you. I don’t marry for political gain either Y/N,” He explains.

“Oh,” Is all you can say. That’s not at all what you were expecting to hear from him.

“Just oh?” He asks.

“Do you really still want to marry me?” You ask incredulously.

“Yes! Of course Y/N. Why wouldn’t I want to marry the love of my life?”

“How could I have known back then Kylo? You literally demanded that I be your wife!”

“I did not demand, well maybe…anyways I thought it was quite obvious!” He scoffs.

“It was not! I hardly knew you back then, and you didn’t know me either. How could you have even felt that way about me?” To love someone so quickly seemed to be impossible in your mind.

“I knew you. Besides, there was something about you, well actually many things. Even if I didn’t comprehend it my feelings for you have not changed, and I now know that they are love,” He justifies.

“Kylo why do you have to be this way,” You shake your head.

“Well will you?” He repeats.

“Will I what?” You mock.

“Ugh, will you just marry me woman?” He asks again, much more aggressively then intended this time. You were just so damn frustrating me.

“I don’t know that sounds pretty demanding to me,” You tease. Kylo in his annoyance gets up and walks away, making you laugh at his frustration. He quickly comes back, and you can hear him muttering curses under his breath. He holds something in his palm, a ring, before you can say anything he slides it on to your finger.

“There, happy?” He growls.

“You’re lucky I love you Kylo,” You chuckle, admiring the new ring on your hand. Even if he was a big oaf, he was sweet in his own way. Kylo tackled you in a hug, pinning you to the mattress and kissing all over your face.

“Whoa, whoa! I don’t think I can go another round just yet.” You tell him. Kylo calms down a bit, kissing you more slowly and holding you more gently.

“My wife, you’re going to be my wife!” Kylo cheers ecstatically.

“Hey, don’t let it get to your head,” You warn. Kylo smiles at you, and you can tell that it in fact has immediately all gone to his head. You laugh at the ridiculousness of it all and Kylo joins in, contagious laughter filling the room.

Now he was truly the man who had everything.

#kylo x reader #kop #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren #renne writes

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edelmansgirl11-blog · 7 years ago

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Alexandra Edelman‎ to Jaime Edelman “Cash me in the bed, how bow dah?” Might be slightly intoxicated.

Jaime Edelman "Your Ghetto English accent is a marvel to behold, baby."

Alexandra Edelman "Wait, wait. Wait, Jay. I've got something else for you. Here. C'mere and sit down on the edge of the bed." Smirks.

Jaime Edelman Eyes the woman and her state carefully as he'd approach. Stone cold sober as he sat gently to the edge of the bed.

Alexandra Edelman As he sat down to the edge of the bed, she made her way to her phone, fumbling through to find the song she wanted. Pressing play, Nelly's voice came through a moment later, declaring it was getting hot in there. Slowly approaching him, she stood there between his knees, her hands to the lower hem of her own shirt as she drew it up slowly, pulling it over her own head, lyrics rolling off her tongue with no shame.

Jaime Edelman "Oh my god..." dry syllables rolling off his lips as she started. Watching her pull off his shirt as it was so difficult to take her even moderately serious in these moments as his smile cracked into complete laughter. "Why do you know this entire song?"

Alexandra Edelman With one shirt removed, the other would follow as she continued on with the lyrics, not missing a single one. Once both of them had lost their shirts, she turned around in front of him, giving up the view of her ass as she leaned down dramatically, glancing back up over her shoulder towards him as she slipped off one shoe and then the other. Waiting until the chorus where she'd answer his question. "Because I'm well rounded," she confessed before jumping right back into the lyrics again.

Jaime Edelman Watching as she'd turn around and giving up a view that would have him leaning forward. Teeth landing to the side of her where her ass and her thigh would meet. A firm bite that she yanked free of as she turned around. A shake of his head as she went on.

Alexandra Edelman Feeling the bite through her dress pants, the effects were evident in the shift in the tone of her voice as she did her best rap for him, turning around a moment later where her hands were finding the back of his neck. Taking a break from the lyrics to press a firm and heated kiss to his lips as her hands trailed down his bared chest before she was drawing back for her favorite part. "I am getting so hot, I wanna take my clothes off..." she offered in the most seductive tone she could manage.

Jaime Edelman Feeling her firm kiss before he felt her to his chest and her follow up. "It's not hot in here at all, actually. It's quite chilly. I bet I can prove it..." he ventured, as high beams told no lies and he was looking right at her.

Alexandra Edelman "Okaaaay, then it's /about/ to be hot in here because... I'm gonna take your clothes off..." she offered, singing the last bit of her statement as her hands drifted down to find the button of his jeans, her own hips drawing side to side as she leaned in to find the side of his neck where he'd earn a bite of her own there against his flesh.

Jaime Edelman "Then it's going to be colder." He offered, feeling her at the button of his jeans as she found his neck. Arms wrapping around her but despite it all, something about it felt wrong. Even with the rock of her hips which felt physically right but being sober with her while she was drunk made him feel dirty for it all. Not knowing how to talk her off the ledge now though. "I got a headache, hun." He attempted, since if it worked for females it should work for males.

Alexandra Edelman Hearing him say it was going to be colder, she was accustomed to him deflecting when it came to just how attractive he was, therefore it wouldn't stop her in the least as she unfastened the button of his jeans before hearing him continue on. "Oh, Jay..." she offered, stopping immediately as even the most intoxicated version of herself still would always put him first. Her hands drew up, finding the sides of his face as she looked down to him before leaning in to press a gentle kiss there to his forehead.

Jaime Edelman Seeing what she'd do with that, he felt bad lying to the woman but he wouldn't risk pricking her insecurities either. Feeling her to the sides of his face as he'd smile. Her gentle nature always to be admired by him as his hands gently passed her sides.

Alexandra Edelman Feeling his hands there to her sides, she wouldn't be wise to what he was doing, as such dancing and antics being rejected would have surely sent her down a spiral that neither of them were prepared for. But this way, there was a delicacy to the situation that even she couldn't doubt, nor would she attempt to go any further with him, even if she did feel that desire already burning within her. "I'll find you some pills and water. Why don't you lay back?" she offered, resisting the urge to kiss him, knowing it would only serve to make her want him more than she already did in that moment as she attempted to come down.

Jaime Edelman "No. Just lay down with me." He requested, lips finding her cheek gently as his hands found her wrists as he'd lay back. Guiding her with him as his lips found her knuckles. Even drunk, he was still madly in love with this woman.

Alexandra Edelman Feeling him guide her back with him, even still in her dress pants and her bra as he wore his jeans from dinner that night, she'd go easily with him just the same. Drawing a deep breath as she found a place there next to him, her hand softly to the side of his face. "Here," she offered, drawing her arm up and behind his head, offering that it be her place to hold him that night instead, trading normal positions as she felt the sobering effects of knowing he was in pain. "Let me hold you," she whispered, her kiss finding the side of his head.

Jaime Edelman Feeling her find her place as big spoon for once, amazed she even knew how. Feeling her to his head as he reached back. Hand to the side of her leg where he felt the uncomfortable fabric of her dress pants. "You should get comfortable with me." He requested.

Alexandra Edelman Holding onto the man was not something she often did in this position, though she was constantly to him in one way or another at most times. Feeling his hand there to her leg, the effects of the alcohol somehow halted altogether as she had shifted from carefree to careful. "I'm alright," she promised, her hand finding the back of his neck as she stroked the baseline of his hair. "I just want you to feel better," she offered honestly, another kiss pressed to the top of his head.

Jaime Edelman Exhaling low as it was one of those things he didn't feel right about doing but it was the best option as he felt her to his head. His hand still to the outside of her thigh. "I love you..." the man would note as if to quell his own conscience on it. "And I think you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Alexandra Edelman Hearing him speak, she drew an easy breath as her lips remained pressed there to the top of his head. Her hand drew around to the side of his face, gently embracing the man even as she laid there holding him, none the wiser to that which he had done there. "I love you," she promised in return, not quite sure what she'd done to earn the man's love or adoration in that moment, yet she'd take it just the same as he truly made her feel beautiful at every turn. "Even when your head hurts, you're still complimenting your wife. How is it that I got so lucky?" she asked, far more sober by the moment as her words came forth clearly and the edge of drunkenness had left her voice entirely.

Jaime Edelman Hearing her tone return to near normalness, he'd settle his head into his pillow. "You're not." He promised assuredly as his hand loosened its grip at her thigh.

Alexandra Edelman "I am," she stated honestly, knowing just how lucky she was that they had found this once again, knowing in the depths of her soul that never again would either one of them have to face the world without the other by their side. Stroking her fingers softly through his hair, she drew a slow breath, her eyes closing as she wished away the pain in his head while counting her own blessings at the same time. "Are you sure you don't want me to get you something for your head though?" she asked, her concern transparent and evident in every move and every word since he'd confessed it to her.

Jaime Edelman "No, I'm alright." He'd add lowly, turning his head further into his pillow before his fingers would lift to drag one solitary strand of dark hair from the side of the pillow. Knowing somehow her hair was on everything. Even /his/ pillow.

Alexandra Edelman As he settled against his pillow, she was still there, trying to hold him, to do for him what he did for her on the daily. As he drew up a strand of her hair, she couldn't even apologize for it as the man wore her dna constantly in one way or another. A slow smile took her features, proving her guilt in the matter. "Your head isn't bothering you anymore?" she asked, her eyes drifting towards his. Always knowing there was power in their love, but never much thinking it could cure headaches.

Jaime Edelman "Your head should be the one hurting from all the hair you lose." He'd remind her, meeting her eyes as here was a lie he could not allow. A shake of his head.

Alexandra Edelman "You'd think over time it would all be gone, but I swear it's like I never lose any," she offered honestly as it never seemed to thin, and yet there was so much hair to be found throughout the hotel room in just a few days that she could only imagine how much she actually lost in a week's time if she paid attention to it. Finding confirmation that his head was no longer hurting, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, not sure how it wasn't still aching, but pleased just the same to know that he wasn't in pain any longer.

Jaime Edelman "It's only a matter of time until you're bald." He stated firmly, without an ounce of doubt. Feeling her to his forehead as he knew it would be time to pay the piper soon enough for this one.

Alexandra Edelman "Bald?" she asked, a bit of surprise there in her tone as she continued to hold to him as though he was still hurting, making no attempt to move from that space as it was a rare one at best. "And when I am bald, will you still lay in bed and tell me that you still think I'm the most beautiful woman you've ever seen?"

Jaime Edelman "I will because you'll still be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He confirmed, thinking it would take a whole lot worse than that to truly do her in.

Alexandra Edelman Humming softly at his confirmation, she turned into him, her kiss finding his lips as the sentiment was enough to prompt such a reaction from the woman. Her hand found the side of his face as the tender kiss met his lips, remaining there for a long moment before she was drawing back to meet his eyes. "Again, lucky," she whispered, returning to the thought that she was surely the luckiest woman alive to have this man for her own.

Jaime Edelman "You're not." He assured in the same time of a whisper she had offered him as his eyes met hers. Not daring to shake his head but the desire was there.

Alexandra Edelman “I am,” she assured in another whispered breath as she could hear no differently in the matter. She knew what she knew and there would be no convincing her otherwise. Pressing her lips softly to his once more, her hand drew down against his chest as she turned more fully there into him.

Jaime Edelman Feeling her lips to his, he'd turn back into her. Still able to taste the booze on her breath but that had been nothing odd as of late. Feeling her to his chest as his hand slid up her forearm.

Alexandra Edelman As his hand found her arm, her own hand found the side of his neck, feeling him adjust there to her, both drawing in closer to one another. Her kiss slowly drifted to the corner of his mouth, a hum there to her lips. “Sooo lucky,” she whispered, her kiss finding the side of his neck.

Jaime Edelman "So not lucky." He whispered back with a smirk before he felt her to his neck. Hand still sweeping up her forearm and around the bend of her elbow to pass his fingers gently up the back of her arm.

Alexandra Edelman Remembering he was fresh off a headache, she thought not to go any further than this, but the feeling of his hand against her arm would only make her want the full effects of his touch. Whining softly to the curve of his neck as though it was regarding his words, though she knew better, her forehead found his shoulder a moment later as her hand gripped his upper arm.

Jaime Edelman "What?"'he asked, usually prompting that whine for good reason and not like this, feeling her at his own arm as he pressed to hers as well and up to her shoulder.

Alexandra Edelman “I’m trying to be good, Jay,” she confessed, her consideration for the state of his head moments before weighing heavy on her mind. “But it’s so hard to do with you,” she confessed softly there against his shoulder. Craving his touch as it was, allowing herself to feel conflicted in the moment and let him know honestly as her endless desire for the man was one of those things she just never would hide from him.

Jaime Edelman "You're fine." He stated in return, as the woman seemed to have her wits about her as she found his shoulder and his lips found her temple in return.

Alexandra Edelman Feeling his kiss there to her temple, she pressed her lips to his shoulder, finding relief in his assurance and his touch. “Are you sure?” She asked softly, still controlling her desire for him as best as she could, needing to make sure either in his spoken word or his action, but needing it entirely in one way or another.

Jaime Edelman "I never had a headache..." the man confessed softly, ready for her to be mad at him and for it to all go to hell if need be as he told her the truth. Lips pressing gently to her temple once more.

Alexandra Edelman Feeling his kiss, she couldn’t help but smirk as she thought he was lying now to make her feel better about moving forward with him. Allowing her hand to fall against his chest, she hummed softly as she turned her head, capturing his lips within her kiss, taking his words as a go ahead.

Jaime Edelman Not sure whether she believed him or not, he felt her lips connect with his. Pressed back to her without any doubt or hesitation though their standing remained unclear at best.

Alexandra Edelman Pressing her lips more firmly to his, her hand drifted down between them to finish what she had previously begun by unzipping his jeans that were already unfastened.

Jaime Edelman Lifting his hips in prep work for her to help him out with such a task. The man's hand slipped up her arm to her shoulder.

Alexandra Edelman As his hand drew up to her shoulder, hers were finding the waist of his jeans, drawing them down as her lips found his chest, working the jeans down his legs without losing the contact of her lips to his flesh.

-October 6, 2017

#je11 #miami #edelmansgirl_11 #2017 #statplay

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