#i got 15 years of religious trauma out of one afternoon

[maple-crusader]

This was both the best day of my life and also the worse (ish)

[batb1mb0]

Since I’m seeing a lot of people write about their religious upbringing and Ghost…I guess it’s finally my turn. I don’t know if I should but warnings but I’ll put them here anyway.

TW: talk of religion (obviously), family member death, minor talking about masturbation acts, religious trauma, gaslighting, toxic relationship with family

TL:DR: I loose my grandmother and start questioning my faith. Later on my friend shows me the band Ghost and I thought I could finally like something that I relate to.

This all started in 2014 when I was just a freshman in high school. I was 14 at the time about to turn 15, living the best of my life that I possibly could for a 14 year old. I was learning how social media worked, I was playing flash games, I had a great connection with my family. Life was great. The only down side was my grandmother, who I was very close to, was very very sick. She had been sick for three years before this whole moment in time. I got a text one day in December. I still remember the date and time of that message; December 17th, 2014 at 2:45 pm. I see that my mom had texted me and said that both her and dad are in the high school lobby waiting to pick me up. I found this weird since I didn’t need two family members to pick me up. So I thought nothing of it.

When I got downstairs, that was when I heard the news that made me loose my cool. My parents informed me that afternoon that my grandmother had just passed that afternoon and they were signing me out of school a week early due to funeral planning and other things like that. The moment I heard that news, I broke down in tears and fell to my knees. I loved my grandmother. She was like a second mother to me and now I had just heard the news that she was no longer with us. This was the start of my spiral into depression. And it didn’t help that I tried to live in denial for the most part of it.

So with this major death in the family, I was really starting to question my religion. I was brought up Catholic in a very religious family. We always went to church every Saturday evening, I was practically brain washed into thinking this is the only religion you can be. I understand that some other Catholic upbringing stories are not like this but the way mine is, it was more like a cult the more I think about it (I’ll make a separate post talking about that). I really was thinking if god was all good and loving, then why couldn’t he fix and heal my grandmother. I was told to always pray to god if I needed help but it was clear he wasn’t listening to me in those moments. So I decided to drop Catholicism as a whole. The only problem was, my high school was Catholic and I had to get through three years of pretending to be Catholic.

Jump to my senior year of high school. I was 17 at the time so I am still a minor. My high school was offering this religious retreat called kiros. Basically it was a religious retreat to grow your relationship with god or find him again. It was for four days and three nights and I look back to it…it sucked. If you didn’t think religion can be a cult, this was surely the nail in that coffin. We were given the same shirt and the same colored bandanna. The only way to tell us apart were the pants we wore. And we had to wear that shirt the whole time. But this is only scraping the surface of this whole retreat.

The one night I am haunted by is the night we had to do confessions. Now already I don’t like telling a stranger my imperfections, what made them think I would tell a holy man my imperfections. Well…I don’t know how but it worked. I was put into a small room with the priest, he got me to calm down and I still curse myself each day for remembering the interaction so well. The way I had admitted to self exploration in the bedroom, the way I was crying out of sheer EMBARRASSMENT! I wasn’t being healed. Though the priest thought I was being healed and finally accepting god into my heart and that’s why I was crying. No. I was bawling my eyes out due to the embarrassment I felt that I just told this man, who is a stranger and old enough to be my dad, what I had done to myself. It was that I finally was seeing how scary this religion truly is…how far gone you can easily be if you are not careful. I should say any religion is that way. But my experience was truly traumatic and I was given nothing in return. I gave until I could not give no more.

Jump to me in college, these next five years flew by quickly. I was finally with people I could call friends. A close friend of mine showed me their tarot cards, and I was fully clicking with it. Better than my TWELVE YEARS of Catholicism did for me. Of course when I was getting into tarot and the starts of paganism I hid it from my parents. Mainly my mother since I knew she would disapprove of it. And I was right. When I was 22 and I told her I am now pagan, she never gave me a second glance. Just an eye roll and thinking I’m trying to get out of going to church with her. No. This is something I made on my own. And this was around the time a friend I met at work was telling me about Ghost. I had Mary on a Cross playing since it was a song I was hearing all over Tiktok and I just liked the tune of it. So they told me a little about the band and showed me a few more of their songs that I was instantly clicking with. Year Zero and Cirice really got to hold onto me and given my past, it shows why Cirice really has a hold on me.

Even today, I am finding so many friends in this community who have some variety or religious trauma or just use the music to escape. I’ll say this, I’m glad I was introduced to it. It helps me when I am in my dark hours and when I feel like the world is crashing down on me. It is a temporary escape while I still live with my parents for the time being. However my happiness always has to come to an abrupt end. Present day me, did recently receive a letter that high school me did write. Everything was fine until I read one line of the letter…a line that nearly sent me over the edge when I read it…

“Hopefully you are still Catholic, if not pray to god and help yourself to get back into his love”

Even going to as far as to attached a picture of the letter to show I am not making any of this up…But yeah…thanks to the wonderful people who have been with me all through this little obsession, you guys mean the world to me…it’s true. If you do have ghost…you really do have everything

-Chloe

Below is the actual letter…

[honoviadakai]

Ivan Braginsky and Autism

From what I’ve seen, a lot of people in the Hetalia fandom view Russia as a character that is autistic coded.

I agree with this idea 100%

However I don’t think Ivan would really do anything about, make a big deal of it or even get a diagnosis.

First and foremost, this man is THE personification of the entire country of Russia, mental health is not a big priority in that country. A lot of the attitude towards mental illness and neurodivergent people is very “we don’t talk about Bruno”. Basically if you don’t bring it up, talk about it or seek help, it’s not an issue. Obviously that’s very difficult because some people will require medication or therapy to be able to have some semblance of normalcy, no such services exists in Russia without having to pay exorbitant amounts of money and basically condemning yourself to a life of solitude once you start seeing a specialist.

Ivan’s case is kinda weird though. This man is over 1,000 years old and very clearly has mental issues but both he and his family just kinda view it as “shell shock” from all the fighting he had to do in the past. He shrugs it off and just kinda goes about his days and just deals with things he thinks is symptomatic of PTSD. Ivan would absolutely have PTSD too, I think pretty much all the nations have that to some degree, Ivan just doesn’t realize that having a hard time expressing yourself, having difficulty understanding people’s feeling and the almost religious need to maintain his daily routine least he gets very upset has nothing to to with the traumas of war.

Honestly it would be Arthur, Alfred and Matthew who watch his behavior and realize…there’s more going on in the big guy’s head. The North American brothers would sit there, their mental gears turning as they try to figure out what they think it could be. It’s on the tip of their tongue…but what is it??? Arthur meanwhile is just casually drinking his tea, already knowing what’s up. Once he’s done having his afternoon tea, he sets his cup down and casually remarks

“You know he’s displaying almost all of the symptoms of autism in adults, right?”

The bespectacled brother’s eyes would light up. That was it! That’s what was going on!

Alfred would most likely be the one to bring it up to the Russian man and even offer to help him get a diagnosis and any other help he’d need.

This is where the issues would start…but not necessarily in a bad way…but not in a great way either…

First of all…what the hell is that? Ivan’s never heard of that word. Is it a disease? They’d have to explain it in great detail.

Second thing that would occur is that he’d be too prideful to go in. He’s healthy, why should he go see a doctor when he hasn’t even had allergies bothered him all that much since 1912. They’d have to fight this man to the death just to get him to MAYBE think about saying yes to a consultation.

Even if they SOMEHOW managed to get him to a specialist and get a diagnosis…honestly Ivan’s response would be to just…nod at the doctor, get up, go home and just go about his life the way he always has. Again, he’s over 1,000 years old now, if this hasn’t been an issue to him before then he sees no need to see a therapist or get medication.

Not all hope is lost though. If he does get a diagnosis or even just an explanation of what autism is, it’ll be in the back of his head. The topic might not come back up for weeks, months, years, even decades…but it will come up. One day he’ll be struggling to make eye contact while talking to the Italy brothers and getting more and more anxious because he thinks they might be judging him for it (they’re not btw). So he’ll excuse himself and whip out his phone to Google wether or not he’s sick only to remember…isn’t what he just went through a symptom of that thing he got diagnosed with a decade ago? He’ll Google it and sure enough, it is indeed a symptom.

Oh.

So how does he deal with everything now? He’s supposed to be make gnocchi with Feliciano and Lovino in 15 minutes. Again he’ll just Google how to calm his nerves, take a shot of vodka from his emergency flask, smack his face and walk back in like he’s not secretly screaming on the inside.

That’s just honestly how I think Ivan would deal with any mental health diagnosis. Just Google the symptoms, Google how to deal with it, take a shot of vodka and carry on as best he can.

Is this solution perfect? Hell fucking no. But it’s unfortunately what works for him and he’s a stubborn man that will continue on as he always has. Just dealing with the crippling anxiety and feeling of isolation with booze, and the stubborn mask of a man that isn’t too bothered by anything to hide that in reality, a lot makes him anxious but he’ll be damned if he’ll admit it to anyone.

[kinfriday]

Heathen Monasticism?

Twenty three years ago I journeyed to college with the intentions of becoming a Christian Minister. That time is very strange for me in my memories. Not only was I a radically different person, so much so that it feels like another lifetime in its entirety; I was also dealing with a lot of religious, and personal trauma. In the span of years on this and other blogs I've talked about that heavily. My journey of self discovery, how I came to know who I am through those trials, but there's something from that time that has never left me, and I've never been quite certain how to make it fit. I have felt a call to ministry since at least seven years old. The earliest manifestation of such was to help. This conviction, this burning well, call, within me led me to the principals office. After all she was in charge, so she would know how I could help. Turns out she was deeply confused. "Help how?"

"I dunno, I want to make the world better, I want to help people, do something." I replied.

She called my Father, and I got to go home early for the day. In my Father's truck, on a fine West Texas Spring afternoon, he pulled over by the Athletic field and he said something that has stuck with me my entire life. "There's something you need to learn, and it's going to be hard for you to accept. There's no changing the world, you just can't do it, and it's only going to get you hurt to try." The look on his face was deeply pained, and he regarded me with worry.

Inside, I felt that streak of defiance that I often did around my father at that age but instead of challenging what he said, the sincerity and the brutal honesty of his words I think granted me a rare moment of discretion. I held my tongue but resolved in that moment that I was going to prove him wrong. It existed as a vague idea, until I found myself trapped in the ideological amber that was fundamentalist Christianity. At that point I began to understand it as a call to ministry, all the while I began to find a particular joy in rhythms and routines. There was at that time in my life, an aspiration towards discipline if not the full realization of it. I began to study, sought out morning and evening prayer, and tried to be everything the culture I was raised in, and the people surrounding me told me I had to be.

If I wanted to help and make a difference in the world, on top of ensuring that I would check the right boxes to avoid the great shake and bake at the end of life, there was a oath to follow and things to be done...

Then it all fell apart, but not before I considered going catholic or orthodox at one point, if for no other reason than to join a monastery. There was something about that life that called to me. Some of the more ascetic orders certainly, but I also found a lot of meaning in those that focused on service, and while my christian faith died, that impulse towards service and rigorous devotion never faded. But what to do about it? It's easy to describe life as chapters. This happened, then this happened, but for the last twenty years it's been a gray. I've come to greater understanding, often while chasing down paths that led to dead ends for me.

It took me almost a decade after becoming a pagan before I was certain of the name of my Lady. It was almost 15 years after my awakening, where I became aware I was an otherkin lagomorph, that I finally understood without doubt that I was a Mountain Hare in particular. And my faith journey has been similar, from Pagan, to Druidic, to finally Anglo Saxon Heathenism. There is a feeling there that I have finally come home. I've established very meaningful connections with the Gods I serve, most especially my Lady Eostre. I know my faith path, I know my identity, and yet, there is still this call to service. Great, but what do I do about it? Ironically, what I've been doing, and a little bit more. For the last twenty years I have traveled to help others. From surgery recovery, to cross country moves, there is a strange tendency for me to end up where I'm needed, and I see this very much as the Gods and the Norns working with fate, Wyrd and Orlog, as they do. I don't want to boast much about my deeds, I don't do those things with the hope of recognition or praise, but suffice it to say I'm the kind of person that will drive cross country to help someone clean house. I could tell you stories... ^_^ Beyond that, I have become rigorous in pursuit of my discipline, and in the way that I live my life. After a lifetime of seeking to help, of feeling that call I've come to realize that in a few big ways and many small ways I've already been pursuing much of the path. Which leads me to now, seventeen years after graduation, I'm again answering the call. I don't know how it's going to shake, but I've begun home study with the ultimate goal of completing the introduction program with the Troth, and after that I'm going to officially pursue being ordained with them. While all of this is going on, I'm going to be working to try to hammer out a framework for an ascetic heathen/pagan path, that can work as a "Snap in" for those that wish to follow it.

I don't know how official any of this will ever be, but if someone feels called to a life of discipline and service, as I am, I'd like there to be at least a framework they could follow so that they could realize those goals easier within their own lives, and begin serving their Gods and those around them as they feel called to. In the meantime, I have my made my vows to my Lady Eostre, to whom I am sworn... "My Lady Eostre, I swear my life, my works, my thought, and my faith to you. I am your hare, your devoted servant, your monk in this life. I offer my service not only as a sacrifice, but in your honor. My life for hope and the service of the dawn." So here we are. I wanted to write this out somewhere, share my heart with the world. I don't know if I'll ever be successful with these goals as the world sees these things, but I know where I'm called, and I know She is with me. I'll let my life and my works attest to the truth of my heart.

After all, actions show what words claim. Going forward, in the future, I think I'll dust off this old space, and continue to post my journey here. Talk about what I'm learning, how I'm progressing on the path. Right now, it's a lot of reading, and reflection, which is about to kick off with earnest. Thanks for reading friends. -Rebecca Snow Hare Ya know, "Sister Snow Hare" has a ring to it... Is that to much?

[claryaastark]

Strings of Fate

05162020

She goes South, he went North. He walks downstairs, she rode the elevator upstairs. He rides the bus, she gets down because it’s the place of her destination.

I smiled as I saw the invisible strings that tangle around them. If they can feel or see it, I am certain that one of them will trip, or choke to it.

I put the golden bow and arrow that I was holding, and touch my chin. I looked at my reflection on the well ; the well of destiny. It was deep and crystal clear. And beyond, I can perfectly see that there are millions, millions of red strings that tangle around. If people can only look to planet earth through my perspective, they can see that this world was not blue nor green. It was red. Millions of faces, all trying to chase their fate. Some that are in wrong path, many are lost. And some were on their way to their true fate. And some are lucky, that they found where, who and what they are meant to be.

People’s fate in this world was sorted. There are complex tangle, those who are often lost, confused and indecisive with their fates. Some people who belong to the complex tangle, are those who die without having the chance to find their true fate. The other one, was the simple tangle or simply the lucky ones. They are the ones who find their true fate, and live their lives happily, with their loved ones, passion, success and profession. And last was the neutral tangle, those who find their fate but still feel lost, and empty. Like there is something that’s missing. For me, they are the most unfortunate ones. They get all the things that they want, the success that they aim, but still feel empty.

My brows furrowed as I looked at the pair of complex and neutral red strings that glimmer among the oceans of string. I heaved a sigh and massaged my forehead. This kind of fate was the most complicated ones, I am seriously having a hard time on making way for these kind of people. Forgive me but I was not a God. I was just a mediator between their true fate, and their way to it. I was just a traveler who tries to pull their strings together, but in the end it is still the will of God that will lead them to their true fate. Seriously, this job is way more complicated than those job that I entered when I was still a human. I sipped my coffee and stare at the pair of complex and neutral strings, I smiled bitterly as I saw myself to them. They are unlucky.

Let me tell you a story. But to spoil you a bit, this is not a love story nor a life story. But this is a story about love and life. Difference was big.

She is Yssa, a doctor, and she belongs to the complex fate. He is Sam, an engineer, and he belongs to the neutral fate. And this is what happens when a neutral and complex fate, tangle together. It is literally choking.

15 years ago, Yssa was a stubborn and a happy-go-lucky college student. During her freshman year, she just loves living her life to the fullest. She loves to party, drink, go out with her friends and her mantra was literally “You Only Live Once”

She also loves socializing with people. She has this lovely aura that can make people fall in love with her just by seeing her smile. She is light and soft, she loves helping those who are in need. She even became a part of their school’s student council department during her sophomore year. She has the talent in music, and became prominent when she joined their University’s band. Their life is simple, she has a happy family, a religious parents and very supportive siblings. Her life was perfect — almost perfect.

Until a tragedy came to her life.

It was 4th of August, year 2005. Yssa was on her way home after attending her friend’s party, it was almost midnight. She was walking along the Timog street, as five drunk men approached her. She tried pushing them away, but they forced themselves to her. She tried to scream, to call for help, but there is no one. The rest was history, she was raped and that’s when she started hating her life.

A lonely boy. That’s what they called him.

Sam is an introvert, and socially awkward. He never mingles with anyone, he always wear his headphones because the noisy world irritates him. He was bullied during his high school days because of isolating himself from people. He has the talent in art and it became his way of expressing himself. He was abused by his father when he was a child, his mother abandoned them. His family was messed-up, he doesn’t even had people whom he can consider as home. He was always alone, alone and sad. He was used to this life, to the feeling of emptiness and sadness.

Until she met someone that changed her life.

It was 4th of August, year 2005. Sam was sitting alone on one of the benches on his favorite park. The ambience is good and quiet. He loves sitting there to feel the deafening silence and let himself consume by loneliness. He was taken aback when a girl approached her.

“I’ve been seeing you often here, you know what? This is my favorite spot, but since I always saw you sitting here, I just moved to another spot... there”

The girl pointed the bench on the dark part of the park while pouting her lips. Sam just looked at her, and never said a word.

“What do you listen to? Can I?”

Still, Sam has no word. He just removed his left earphone and handed it to the girl.

“Oh my God, they are my favorite band as well! You must listen to No More Bad Days, I do not know you but take that as a song from a stranger”

The girl smiled, and for the first time, Sam smiled too. A genuine smile. And that’s where they started.

It was almost midnight when they decided to part ways. Sam was walking along, smiling, volume’s up while listening the song that the girl had recommended. He doesn’t care about the world around him.

And that is the first time that I pulled their strings together.

Yssa was on her way home, to south. And Sam was on his way home, to North. And they met in the middle. They crossed their way, only two of them on the street. But sadly, he never heard Yssa’s scream as those 5 men forced themselves to her because he was wearing his earphones.

They did cross ways, but never noticed each other.

Yssa started hating her life after that tragedy. She dropped all her subject, she just spent her life on home. Taking her medicines, monthly counseling and quarter therapy to recover from her trauma. After a year of being raped, she changed so much. The happy Yssa has turned into someone opposite. She enrolled for a new course and moved into another University, still continuously taking her medicine. Moving on is not easy for her, though they caught those people who molested her, and she got the justice, still, it was more than traumatic. But she decided to build a new life. She never made friends with anyone, she became always alone. She became socially anxious, she loves wearing jacket, to cover her body from anyone. She never reveal her skin, and that makes people think that she is a weirdo. Even to her own brother and father she became distant, afraid to trust any man —even her own family. During her sophomore years, she decided to dropped her course again, because of her anxiety of people and being abused again. And that’s where she decided to do arts. She took online classes, and it seems like in there, she found a little call of passion and happiness. And after almost 3 years, she can say that she is slowly recovering from trauma.

Wearing her jacket, beanie and pants, March 14, year 2008. 1:30 in the afternoon, she decided to go outside to buy materials for her new piece. She was still anxious but after dropping her second course, it was her first time to go outside. Her mother insisted to buy the stuff for her. But Yssa refused to, she said that she can go alone outside.

On the other hand, Sam’s life has totally changed. To sum it up, the girl that he met that night became his friend — and their relationship turned into something more. The girl has became Sam’s girlfriend. After living almost all of his life alone, sad and empty, Sam has finally found a reason to pursue, to dream, to live. He turned into a happy man. He still hates the noisy world, but he learns to socialize with people and smile often. And that is because of his girlfriend. The girl changed him. He treated the girl as his own family. He also learned to forgive his parents for bringing him such loneliness. He is now a graduating engineering student, and all his success was for her. He almost had everything now, the love that he is craving, the forgiveness to his family and to himself, the happiness, the success. And he doesn’t want more. He is contented.

14th of March, year 2008. It was a day before his graduation day. Sam and his girlfriend decided to go on an Art’s shop, to look for art materials because Sam will be joining an online art competition. They used the stairs instead of riding the elevator. Because Sam’s girlfriend loves to walk.

And that’s the second time that I pulled their strings together.

Yssa rode the elevator, and they met at the shop. Sam was on the right side, looking for an acrylic water color, and Yssa was on the left side, looking for a sketchpad. And in the middle was Sam’s girlfriend.

They met again, but they didn’t notice each other. Because Sam was looking to her girlfriend— to another girl...and behind her girlfriend was his true fate, — Yssa.

The strings glimmer as their eyes met and rapidly glance with each other.

A year after that encounter, Yssa had quit arts and decided to enter a new University again. Where she took BS Psychology. Upon doing arts, she realized that she can express herself and fully recover from her trauma by trying to study her mind, and understand herself. She decided to help others who are going through the same trauma, by being a Psychologist. Time passed by, until she finally finished her bachelor's degree. She entered med school to pursue her calling, which is to become a Psychiatrist. Her College life was never been easy. She still isolates herself from people and never made friends with anyone. But as time goes by, she finally learned to smile at people again. To open a conversation and to comfort someone. Opening up about her trauma was difficult, but being a psychologist, she learned to deal with it. There are still nightmares that haunt her every night, things that make her remember what she experienced. But little by little, she build herself again.

It was 16th of May year 2012. Yssa was exhausted, med school is stressing her out. But she was thankful because her mind was too occupied with academics. Not with other things. She wears her usual jacket and beanie outfit. Many years have passed, but she can't still have the confidence and braveness to show her skin to people. She rode the bus and is on her way for their blood letting acitivity. It was a project conducted by the college of medicine, and every student was required to donate blood. With too much exhaustion, she puts her earphones, and sleep.

He is back to his old self, more lonely, alone and sad. After 6 years of being together, Sam and her girlfriend broke-up.

He also thought, that the girl was the one for her. They imagined and dream their futures together, they did all the things together. Sam's girlfriend was a part of him, and when she left, Sam was never complete again. The girl left to chase her dream abroad, and after a year of leaving, she married another guy in there. The reason why she left Sam and exchange him from the guy that she just met there was simply, falling out of love. Sam loathed the world again. He became miserable, he did all the things just to forget and move on from the girl that he only loved all his life. Starting over again without the part that made him whole, was hard. He busied himself with work. He became a very successful engineer, he has all the skills that make him famous. He adored by a lot of people. He has the money, the fame, but still, a big part of his life was missing. And that gap will never be filled by anything.

It was 16th of May, year 2012. Sam was on his way home, it was a gloomy day and he doesn't have any umbrella to protect himself from the rain. It was also the day of his car’s coding, that's why he doesn't have any choice but to commute. He was waiting for the bus on the bustling street of Marcos Hiway, and behind him was tents, full of medical people, doing a blood letting activity. The bus has finally arrived.

And that is the third time that I pulled their strings together.

Yssa was getting down the bus and Sam was riding into it. They bumped their shoulders together. The strings glimmer as they looked into each other's eye and said sorry.

They talked. But they never noticed each other.

Aaaaaaaa, I stretched my arms and drink my coffee. I smiled as I saw their strings glimmer again this time. I'm wrong, they are lucky. The will of God had put them together.

For the first time, I saw a complex and neutral strings that successfully tangled with each other. They are lucky, because unlike me, I never tangle with a neutral string. When I was a human, I fell inlove with a girl that belongs to the neutral string, I thought we were the ones for each other. But even before confessing my love to her, she killed herself because of emptiness and feeling unloved. I blamed myself for not showing that I truly care for her, that there is someone who loves her so much.

And with that, I killed myself too.

And this is my consequence. I became a mediator of fate. The one who pulls the strings of people together. The one who make way for them to meet and have their own happy endings. Life is ironic, right? I am the one who make people meet their true fates, but I, myself was alone and unhappy.

Life is a cycle of emotions. All people were played by their own destiny. God knows His plans for us, but people are the ones which are responsible to find their ways to it. In life, we were tossed and twisted, and it hurts. To assume today that everything’s gonna be fine, but tomorrow you’re gonna wake-up with another uncertainty of life. People must learn how to deal with it.

I smiled bitterly and look at the golden bracelet that glimmers on my left wrist.

CUPID.

My name was beautifully engraved on it. The only memory that she left on me.

Anyway, I smiled as I saw Yssa and Sam's string glimmers together. It was beautiful. Being with your true fate is beautiful.

The bus engine started again. Sam was on his way home, and Yssa was pumping a rubber ball while donating her blood.

Unluckily, in just snap, the bus had an accident when it swerved lane because of the slippery road and bumped into a ten-wheeler truck. Half of the passenger had died.

But he survived.

Sam was moved into the hospital where Yssa is currently studying. A lot of blood has lost by Sam. And luckily, there are thousands of blood with the same type as him on the hospital. Their strings glimmer that it almost blinded me, out of thousand bag of bloods, the doctor gets the bag of Yssa's blood.

He survived. And Yssa's blood was running through his veins. And they will never know.

Their strings tangle together as Sam woke up with a face of a smiling girl beside her.

A very unexplainable emotion, his heart skipped a beat.

"Hi Sam, I'm Yssa, your volunteer doctor"

[todokiis]

50 Questions You’ve Never Been Asked

Tagged by @citrusveins ✨🌟:) thanks for the tag citrus!

1. What is the color of your hairbrush?:

It’s got that like duo chrome/oil slick paint on it. I don’t know how else to describe it?

2. Name a food you never eat?:

Hm, Steak. Honestly most meat I prefer to stay away from. I’m not like officially vegetarian but I’ve never really enjoyed meat that much.

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold?:

Too cold! I have a space heater in my room and I bring a jacket with me everywhere cause I’m always freezing.

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago?:

I was on a conference call with my boss discussing some t-shirt designs I’m working on.

5. What is your favorite candy bar?:

Hershey’s chocolate bar with almonds in it. <3 I slap that baby between two nature valley bars and BAM, you got yourself a vending machine smore.

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports event?:

No lmao. But I did enjoy going to all the football games in high school if that counts for anything.

7. What is the last thing you said out loud?:

“Okay, sure.” (Visiting my parents and my mother asked if I could check their mail)

8. What is your favorite ice cream?:

LEMON. And in a waffle cone to be precise. But if that isn’t an option I will take any kind of coffee flavor.

9. What was the last thing you had to drink?:

Coffee. Still working through the cup I poured this morning.

10. Do you like your wallet?:

Yes. It’s shaped like a rainbow and it’s pastel but kinda clear and v cute if I do say so myself. 🌈

11. What was the last thing you ate?:

Some of my leftover lemon birthday cake. I really like lemon if you haven’t picked up on that lmao.

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?:

Nah, but I did buy wall decor for my bedroom.

13. The last sporting event you watched?:

Probably... the Super Bowl like a year or two ago... maybe?

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?:

White cheddar but I usually don’t eat it just cause the texture kinda bothers me.

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to?:

My coworker. It was in response to a rupaul gif she sent to our work gc.

16. Ever go camping?:

Embarrassingly enough I think I have to admit that I’m a bit too high maintenance for camping. I love nature though! But if I can’t stay in like a cabin or RV then it’s not really for me. ☠️

17. Do you take vitamins?:

Yes. It takes forever to get through them all in the morning.

18. Do you go to church every Sunday?:

Nope. Had enough religious trauma the first 17 years of my life, don’t plan on revisiting that experience lmao.

19. Do you have a tan?:

NO BUT I USED TO DAMMIT. But, I chose the life of someone who works inside all day. 😪

20. Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?:

ChineseFoodChineseFoodChineseFoodChineseFoodChineseF- 🥡🥢

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw?:

I don’t really drink soda but every now and then I say fuck it and have a coke if I need to pull an all-nighter or something.

22. What color socks do you usually wear?:

Black.

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit?:

Only when I’m on the highways cause I travel back and forth between two cities a lot. That drive is so exhausting so sometime I push the limit when there aren’t a lot of cars around.

24. What terrifies you?:

Public speaking for like serious events. Straight up passed out a few times. But if it’s for fun stuff or casual presentations it’s not too bad.

25. Look to your left, what do you see?:

Pillows. I’m laying in bed while I answer these.

26. What chore do you hate?:

Laundry D; I don’t like how long it takes to fold everything and put it away!

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?:

Americans who love to do terrible Australian accents lmao.

28. What’s your favorite soda?:

Coke. Don’t drink it very often though.

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thrus?:

Drive thru only. I got things to do, hennie.

30. Who’s the last person you talked to?:

My dad.

31. Favorite cut of beef?:

None. I don’t like beef. 🤢

32. Last song you listened to?:

Beast by Mia Martina

33. Last book you read?:

Some book on ancient Andean art for the art history class I finished like a week ago.

34. Favorite day of the week?:

Friday! Friday afternoons when I’m free from work feel so so good :,)

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards?:

It would take me so unbearably long.

36. How do you like your coffee?:

Strong, and preferably iced. More on the bitter side than the sweet side.

37. Favorite pair of shoes?:

My white adidas 80s Continentals. I am a slut for adidas sneakers OTL.

38. The time you normally go to sleep?:

Usually 2 A.M. or somewhere around that.

39. The time you normally get up?:

I get up at about 8 or 9 AM but I don’t usually get out of bed until like 10:30 or 11. I am trash, I know.

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets?:

It’s hard to choose but probably sunsets. Watching the sun set over the water and the clouds get all pink and purple and the sand looking all glowy... ugh I love it.

41. How many blankets on your bed?:

Two ✌🏼.

42. Describe your kitchen plates:

All black. That’s it. Lmao

43. Do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage?:

I don’t really drink but lemon drops if I’m out at a bar. (piña-coladas on the beach fucking SLAP tho so maybe that.)

44. Do you play cards?:

I used to all the time but it’s been years.

45. What color is your car?:

Gold and I hate it. I refuse to acknowledge that thing as my car.

46. Can you change a tire?:

No... & I didn’t come here to get shamed ☠️

47. Your favorite province?:

I am from the U.S. so I’m just gonna... skip this one I guess lol

48. Favorite job you’ve ever had?:

My current job as a Graphic designer.

49. How did you get your biggest scar?:

Fell on concrete at recess as a kid and busted up most of my left knee pretty bad.

50. What did you do today that made someone else happy?:

Hm... made my bosses and my coworker laugh in our skype call with my general tom foolery I guess. But I’ll probably spam my best friend some dumb tiktoks later that I know will make her laugh.

Hm, I think I’ll tag the last few peeps from my notes ✨ feel free to do this if you’d like. No pressure though! 💛 @icychill @eloquentdreams @tobiodel-ay-ee-hoo and anyone else who sees this and wants to participate!!

[semi-imaginary-place]

fe3h blogging 3 because i have no self control

wah. I don’t want to start BL because that would mean leaving Edelgard and Claude. I don’t care about dimirti as much. part 1 dimitri is so earnest though

i think blue lions was written first. 1 the two monthly missions that have to do with students’ families are both in BL (Ashe and Sylvain). I didn’t notice this at first because for some reason I got it into my head that one of them was in the black eagles and so i thought every house would have a “welp and now we kill  your [insert family member]”. 2 two fairly important side characters at the monastery are related to BL students (Annette and Mercedes). Chapter 3 actually provides a intro for all the lords in their respective routes. Edelgard’s scene is serious but not especially sad, instead you can feel te fire burning within Edlegard and the scene shows how she’s willing to sacrifice the lives of those under her if she believes she is doing the right thing. Claude’s is actually quite light hearted in tone after the first few lines and it highlights the mystery surrounding him and makes him seem very sketchy. Chapter 3 in Blue Lions though is really sad. Ashe my baby boy. Here there is a sense of tragedy in the post battle scene.

My opinion of Gillbert slowly plummets as my opinion of Annette continues to rise. I mean absentee emotionally distant father? He doesn’t deserve Annette and her mom. Ok during Dimitri and Annettes C support about how being siblings would be nice, I’m like ummmmm you two are less than half a year apart. Annette is just small not young. its actually off putting to see Sylvain act like a decent person in Dedue’s supports. Underneath all that philandering and shitting on women, he’s actually a good dude and pretty smart, but wow I want to hit him sometimes. wow Felix is actually nice* to Annette. *well nicer anyways. He’s not mean to her. the “fight” Annette and Mercedes have in their B support is so stupid and now I need to get to the timeskip for it to resolve? wow.

I think Dedue like trauma latched (is that a thing???? I should go look up ptsd sometime) on to Dimitri. Like found the first person that showed a bit of kindness for him and clamped down. He sees himself as a tool of Dimitri, his entire existence is for the sake of another person. He hates Faergus for what it has done to Duscur but instead of helping to enact meaningful resistance against Faergus, he latched on to the first person that didn’t treat Duscur like scum. That’s not rational. Come to think of it everyone in blue lions need therapy like more so than the other houses (who could also use some)

And here I thought Sylvain was the one with self-worth problems, turns out Dimitri’s a part of the gang too. Its like he can’t see any good parts of himself. He is very earnest and straightforward. Also “you didn’t appear to be suppressing you emotions” huh really. not a topic you’re familiar with yourself Dimitri? Can’t remember if I’ve said this or not but why is Dimitri the only one to have a modified armored uniform.

Edelgard: tower, fortune, emperor. Linhardt: hermit. Mercedes: high priestess, strength. Ashe: star. Dimitri: moon, justice, devil?. Claude: sun, hermit?. Seteth: hierophant. Felix: chariot, emperor. Lysithea: magician. Flayn: lovers, priestess. Manuela: empress. Marianne: fortune, priestess, sun? death?. Ingrid: Emperor?. Bernadetta: hermit, moon. Dorothea: lovers, empress. Ignatz: hanged man. Caspar: justice, chariot

Ashe is such a good boy TT^TT

I always thought it hilarious that Lonato got Catherine’s name wrong, but no there was more to it than that.

Also I don’t get why Annette or her mom couldn’t just go to Garreg Mach. She didn’t need an excuse to visit a place, its not like you need a visa to enter. The school of sorcery and then officers academy sounds like such a roundabout way of doing things

I wonder what name Claude ascends the throne under. He likely only took up the name von Riegan upon entering Fodlan and probably used his father's family name before that. I wonder if Claude has an Almyran given name. If he tried to claim the throne under the name Claude von Riegan it’d kinda be an insult like spitting in the face of his people and that wouldn't gain him any favor in Almyra. But would he go under a fully Almyran name? He would be a more popular king showing himself as one of the people. However, I imagine that he'd keep the name Claude. Maybe he grew up with his parents calling him that maybe its important to him now that he's lived under it for ~7 formative years of his life. Coming to fodlan marked the beginning of claude carrying out his plan's to achieve his dream. Its also a period where he is devoid of his parent's guidance and presence. I'd also just say 16-23 is a pretty important period of identity building in a person's life. Its under the name claude that he finds people he wants to walk down this path with. Its an acknowledgement of both sides of his heritage. I wonder if his choice would be different in a non Verdant Wind route.

What if timelines get mixed up and 23 year old felix gets sent to right before glenn dies.  23 yo felix get teleported to an alternate universe or something and meets 13 yo felix. Felix angsts that glenn seems so young and how he's now older than him, maybe yells at his dad a bit and has a chat with 13yo felix.And then idk gets teleported back? Or worse gets trapped so now there 2 felixes running around and i dont know how thats going to affect the time line

Ashe would make the perfect court asassin. He has enough rank/political clout to get access to targets and its not suspicious if he is in proximity to them.But he's not important enough that anyone would pay attention to him. He's a knight and the lord of castle gaspard at most. He's like a minor lord not a duke or anything. Ashe has enough social and emotional intelligence to navigate social situations. He's easy to get along with and has that harmless sweet boy demeanor to him. He already is good at lock picking, sneaking around, and bows. All he need is some training from Shamir and Claude and Ashe would be unstoppable. The only thing stopping this is that Ashe is a genuine good sweet boy and hates deception. My boy is going to be a knight! 

You know what Dimitri needs? A Raphael. Put the one who cant deal with his own emotions next to the emotionally mature on and maybe Dimitri will finally get the help he needs. They can train together too

Dimitri: Kill them all. Don’t let a single one of them escape. Sever their limbs and crush their wicked skulls.

Me: how about no. Kids, don’t do that.

(later) Dimitri: I will search for survivors

Me: Yeah the ones you didn’t kill

The more I learn about Dimitri’s childhood the more I’m like what the hell is wrong with Faergus??? The lifting rocks makes sense because Dimitri is ridiculous strong, but having a kid run all night in heavy armor, or waking an 11 year old up in the middle of the night and having them catch deer. ????? Also Flayn’s cooking and Dimitri’s taste buds are a good match.  “Look at that young maiden wielding a giant lance. How adorable!” I mean that does sound pretty adorable actually.

Sometimes I think about how the officer’s academy is run as an institution and then I get a headache. The player character students we have number around 25 but you see npcs everywhere around garreg mach and there’s enough of them to fill a ball room. In talking to the students, a lot of them imply this is their first year at garreg mach which would imply that the officer’s academy’s course is 1 year long. This is also supported by the age range of the cast from 15 to 22 with most at 16-17 at the beginning of the year instead of having the younger and less experienced students at a different grade level. With a multigrade system unlikely though, how can we explain the number of students? There are 3 possibilities. First is that the class sizes are huge (conservative estimate is like 60/class, probably more based on cut scene estimates) with full day lecture classes. second is that there are only half day classes with half the students in morning class and the other half in afternoon class. Third is that there are actually more professors than shown.

The Central and Western Churches use the exact same rhetoric as shown in the Ashe-Catherine and Flayn-Seteth paralogues. We are divine and just and you are all heathens and sinners. Goddess this Goddess that. And both of them claim justifications for invasions under this rhetoric. Oh its not that you are politically inconvenient to me its that the Goddess says you are evil and I can’t argue with the Goddess so I have a moral obligation to strike you down. I wonder how many of them are actually delusional religious and how many are just using it as an excuse/cover.

I was thinking star or sun for claude because despite/because of everything he's an idealist. Like the sun guy in p3 akainori??? He take all that pain and tries to make the world a better placeInstead of a picture book though claude tries to revolutionize the worldAhhhhh I love this. theres so many narrative you can pull from these types of thingsDevil is like struggling with vice. Hubert's character arc deals withhis trouble connecting with people, his loyalty to edelgard, and what he has to do. Maybe justice? Rationality, jusgement, and themes of what is justice. Especially his convo with Hanneman that calls into question the execution of his fatherSeteth is probably hierophant as he's that one strict follow the rule book teacher we'vr all had. He also repeRepresents the chuch, authority, and the establishment (initially)Mercedes is a nurturing motherly type person with fits empress well. I take back the priestess statement from earlier. I think mercedes struggles are more external than internal (priestess is like more personal relationshio to spirituality and intuition). Wheel of fortune is an option? ?? Mercedes was born with a crest the her house fell and her step dad only wanted her mom for thr lamine crest. Then the church. then her adoptive dad wanting her for political gain theb the academy. A lot has been outside her control. Byleth is another good option for obvious reasons Edelgard is another good one given what happened in her childhood. If thing had been different she would be living a different life. Emperor could be another good one fore her since its about imposing your will on your surroundings

Dimitri’s stupid. I mean he’s using reasoning, but he’s jumping to conclusions when equally or more probable options are still there. I wouldn’t exactly believe Edelgard’s words either, but its clear Flame Emperor and TWSITD have their own separate agendas. Dimitrii’s  “edelgard is the root of all my sufferings” is like the same reasoning as edelgards “the church and its systems are the root of all suffering in Fodlan” but worse, at least Edelgard is half right.

Its honestly disturbing how willing Dedue is to erasing his autonomy and personhood.

timeskip time~ JP dimitri speech tone is much more calm it makes the dissonance with what he is saying all the weirder. He just making up excuses for his bloodlust now. “they” are “evil” so its ok to slaughter them. also yay monarchists, is gilbert actually relevant in this route???. Fleche and Randolf are actually relevant in this route???? I really hate Faergus. why are all of you following dimitri on his suicide run. why would you let the man clearly not in a good mental place decide the course of the army????

ch14: I mean getting ready to torture someone is one thing. but actually threatening me? You’re on my shitlist dimitri. Boy. You dare threaten me.

Woooowww its like watching a bunch of lemming run off a cliff

Rodrigue gets a bad rap in fandom because its true he’s not a great dad, but I don’t think he’s rock bottom either. He and Felix have different world views and he just has no idea how to deal with Felix. I’d be quite funny if it wasn’t so sad.

Dimitri doesn't have a rational bone in his body

In other news I'm getting kind of annoyed at everyone in azure moon.  Like heyyy maybe monarchy is a bad idea???

I read an interesting thought on why the prologue happened the way it did.  tldr: smear tactic against the church. It'd look bad if bandits even got close to the nation's heirs. And even worse if they got injured or killed. If one of them died, edelgard could get an advantage

hot take: Claude is naive in the same way Griffith is naive

another hot take: Claude is Buddha. or maybe Claude AS Buddha. Specifically the birth prophecy thing of kingdom vs all of time space

oh to clarify its about how Claude wants to change not only Fodlan and Almyra but the whole world. The Buddha thing is that there was a prophecy that he would either be an excellent king or like a spiritual leader whose teachings would echo through time around the world. so I want an AU

me finding out about dorothea's and mercedes backstories: who do I have to kill

Its implied in the hanneman supports that hubert’s dad might have been a part of the insurrection to protect hubert

I was imagining Ferdinand and Sylvain interacting and Sylvain probably hates Ferdie's guts and then in got dark first Ferdinand dislikes nobles that aren't noble so he'd probably disapprove. sylvain would see sheltered ferdinand and want to make him suffer as he has. not to mention Ferdinand ... always looks forward, he's always trying to improve himself and I can see sylvain resenting that and himself. on the flip side both hold the chavalier position in their house, and they both appreciate the fine arts. like ferdinand is out here being an obnoxious good boy championing everything sylvain hates

me looking at all the dudes Mercedes can A support: none of you deserve her. what are you bringing HER in this relationship

the only thing i likea about faerhgus is their flag. which is just so aesthetically pleasing

petra and edelgard are foils for each other.  they are princesses from opposite sides of a past war.  both are dedicated to their nations and seek to become the person their country deserves.  both are very driven.  each was for a period of their life removed from their home country.  but their positions are very different from one another.  edelgard and petra also have a low key friendly rivalry where they motivate each other to strive for more. they should have had an A support

I've been avoiding jeritza because his character concept seems like an edgier dimitri. So I'm just here to say i like his deaign. Partly covered face + long hair? Its like the devs are out for me by pairing that with a personality I don't get along with

Unpopular opinion but ignatz's part 2 haircut is super cute

i know someone here was plotting out a persona 5 cross over, but the more I think of it, dimitri belongs in persona 4.  that game's all about facing the parts of your personality that you don't want anyone else to see.  I mean feral dimitri is basically his shadow, that part of him that he rejects

A supports/total supports Claude: 10/13 Sylvain 4/16 So here's a comparison of how their trust issues affect their relationships. Claude might be incredible closed off and even in his A supports, still be with holding important information, but given enough time he can still potentially bond with a great number of people. While on the other hand Sylvain has destroyed his ability to form meaningful connections with people, so half of his A supports are people he already has a bond with. Sylvain is a bitter resentful boy and its getting in the way of his life. oh those supports are excluding byleths

Sylvain is deliberately stupid which makes him the true idiot here

i've been wondering, does dimitri's super strength randomly activate or is he like that all the time

Dimitri and sylvain. When 1+1=0

Chess club edelgard, hubert, sylvain, claude

Edelgard assumes there will be costs and doesn't try to find a way around it. That sort of glory in being killed is faerghus' thing

I really wish I could expierence the game in its full state. What we have in yhis reality is like a shadow of what it could have been.  I just want cf and vw to be their complete, best selves. Of all the routes, AM was written first and the only one that was completed and reached its full potential. VW and SS feel like half a route with of the other routes patched in to fill the gaps.  all of byleths lines in VW are suspiciously about rhea.  In some of the cutscenes theres graphical errors where the soldiers are wearing chuch colors instead of alliance.  Some parts of VW were clearing written fot SS and shoved in last minute.  Like the Edelgard scene. That scene makes mire sense in SS where byleth was her house leader, but not as much is VW where you barely talk to her. which is a shame because that’s one of my favorites.  Byleth's lines make sense in SS which is about rhea and saving the churcv but not in VW which is about whats really happening and Claude.  The same of course applies to SS, where seteth just says Claude's lines, and its so weird. And yet VW and CF are the strongest conceptually for me (or at least tickle my personal preferences). I also don't think any route should be seen in the absence of the others. Its is all 4 route together that show what the game is about. Focusing in on any one route is an incomplete picture.  Verdant Wind was so good and yet it could have been so much better.  That gap between the potential and the actual both angers and saddens me.  Also VW is the most big picture of all the routes. Instead of diving in, it takes a step back for perspective. You can see the war as a whole instead of just what's happenibg with faergus or adrestia. You see what's actually happening. That its not adrestria vs faregus but  the remnants of an ancient war still affecting modern politics from the dominance of the churcv to the agarthans who gave been stirring up shit for centuries.  Despite all its flaws Verdant Wind is also my favorite. Its not better than the other routes... but its spirit managed to reach my crusty old heart. Its like an ugly puppy. I just see all the places it could be better... (gronder field, and that ending??)

Hanneman legit reminds me of some of my professors. Well intentioned very nice people who are just incredible nerdy. A cute old man.

for all that many of Petra's ending end up in Nuvelle, its not actually all that close to Brigid. Seems like a mistake to me

claude badgering seteth to help him with his translations of old books

also its nice that 3h does not have the male as default thing and there are female background characters. Watching the starwars movies its weird that like every mook is male

dorothea and leonie co-chair the  let's-eat-the-nobles club.  claude and petra are both like fodlan nobles are weird and helpless with goofy dances

Ingrid and raphael competing at an eating competition.  Lysithea joins in because she wants cake

I have been overcome with the sudden urge to bully sylvain.  I want to see him make the sad pouty face

ferdinand is a good boy

I like to think that Agartha while progressing in some aspects, has also lost a lot of their technology in that they can still use it but no longer understand how it works

I want  more ignatz supports. I can see him bonding with ferdinand and dimitri strangely enough

Also claude and linhardt and claude competing for who can turn their room into a library first is so great

Again... still wondering what the climate and biogeography look like. Tall trees tend to be in wet temperate with good soil.  We knoe faerhgus is cold but not how cold.  All we know is that duscur ans sreng are cold and arid/semi arid.  We'd need some interesting wind patterns for fodlan to be temperate. If the northern coast is arid. The only way the interior is temperate is if wind is goinf north to south and gwtring trapped by tje central mountain range.  I dont think garreg mach is up in the himalayas

Sothis poorly grandmafriending byleth. Excellent

Playing AM and wow I forgot how much I want to punch dimitri I just want to off gilbert

I watched one of gilbert and annetes supports and wow I want to beat him into the ground all over again. Gilbert doesnt deserve a family

Ahhhh why did I play azure moon again. I'm stuck with gilbert the rest of the route!

i got a birthday letter from gilbert... i dun wan it

Linhardt really just does not care. Not about your "traditions"  or "laws". He only sort starts caring about "morals" after remire

Count Dominic: i have made the perfect crest bearing knight's daughter Me: you fucked up a perfectly good person is what you did. look at her. she's got anxiety. Me: prepare for pain.

Time to go beat up annettes uncle for giving her anxiety.  now I know where annettes fear of failure comes from... Annette deserves so much better

Sothis really is that gremlin living in the attic

I cant believe the reason dimitri made it past gronder was that his actions were so insane that so one could plan for them

I didn't expect ashe to be my mvp this time round... but he is.  Byleth and dimitri both have good strength but are squishy. Ashe's range is insane. He gets that skill that expands range + longbow + deadeye + horse + ring. And if thats not enough canto gets him back out of range. He crits on every other hit and has like a 60% crit rate with a killer bow. He kills everything in one turn. Armor units? Magic bow. Anything else he doubles and crits.

Alao update on the cornelia conspirqcy theory: busted

She just built firdiad a functioning sewer system

Back onto the debunking of the cornelia conspiracy theory  yeah she totally got replaced

Why am I playing azure moon.... I miss Claude

So the derdriu chapter in AM.... claude isnt as heartbroken aa in CF but he's not in a good place. I think he's mourning/coping with loss (the loss of possibilites, future, what could have been etc.) just like he was in CF. It also makea me think he's planning on invading fodlan in the future. I will need to think over this.

Gautier territory is a cold steppe and known for their horse breeding. Those hairy horses have to come from somewhere

Interestingly dimitri is 3/10 strongest in the army despite being a couple levels higher than everyone. So much for that Blaiddyd strength

Flayn is scared of being forgotten isn't she

Sylvain really takes care of dimitri huh

ahhh yeess claude in a poofy sleeved white shirt

Literally dimitri: no i dont "need rest". I have a headache but thats just from lack of sleep

Rodrigue and lambert ditching class getting high on the monastary roof

Faerhgus really is one giant death cult huh

Oh wow ingrid is like unhitable. High speed + evasion ring + avo+10 +alert stance+ + defiant avo

A-after many years I have finally finished azure moon... I think part of why I don't like azure moon is that it wasn't able to sell me on the rightful king narrative. And I CAN be sold on that as both Tolkien and Claude prove. That and the continued existence of gilbert. My loathing for that man is beyond expression

[arsxnalroyarchive-blog]

Roy Harper-Todd // Sunday Surprise

facts + info about the ONE, the ONLY roy harper-todd.

ORIGINS & FAMILY:

Name: Roy William Harper-Todd

Nickname: Roy Boy

Reason for name: It happened in high school and Roy refers to himself as it sometimes and it caught on w/ a few people

Birthday: November 1st

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Place of birth: Window Rock, AZ

Places lived since: Star City, CA

Parents’ names, backgrounds, occupations: Roy Harper Sr. ( Park Ranger, deceased ). Mary Harper Cordelia Warren ( Double Agent, deceased ). Brave Bow ( Navajo Chief, deceased ). Oliver Queen ( Businessman. Green Arrow. Alive ).

Number of siblings: 2 ( Mia Dearden & Connor Hawke )

Relationship with family (close? estranged?): He was very close to his birth father until he died when Roy was five. Roy never knew his mother until she appeared months ago only to shoot him. He was also extremely close to Brave Bow up until his death 3 years ago. His relationship with the ‘Arrow Fam’ is extremely estranged but they’re working on it.

Happiest memory: Roy’s dad letting him wear his park ranger hat on ‘bring your child to work day’

Childhood trauma: His father dying while saving the Navajo tribe from a fire

Children of his/her own?: Not yet.

If so, relationship with their mother/father?: 

Age he/she gave birth/became a father:

PHYSICAL

Height: 5′11

Weight: 195 lbs.

Build: Extremely muscular, mostly in his arms because of archery

Nationality: American

Disabilities (physical or mental, including mental illnesses): none

Complexion (freckles, acne, skin tone, birth marks): He’s got pretty light skin, though there are several tan lines all over his body. A few freckles splattered on his face

Face shape: Oval 

Distinguishing facial features: strong jawline

Hair color: RED

Usual hair style: IMAGE. He typically prefers to grow it out super long up until Jason makes him cut it.

Eye color: Green

Glasses? Contacts?: neither

Style of dress/typical outfit(s): Muscle tanks, jeans, & his blue hat for his casual wear. He’ll dress up for work at CBI and for formal events

Typical style of shoes: flip flops are always his go to

Health (is this person usually sick? or very resilient?): Now it’s getting better. He used to have a shitty immune system while hooked on drugs but it seemed to work back up over the months.

Grooming (does she/he wear makeup? shower daily? wear only clean clothes? pluck her eyebrows?): he doesn’t shower daily, but a couple times a week. doesn’t cut his hair until jason forces him. he does wear cologne. 

Jewelry? Tattoos? Piercings?: THESE are on both his arms. THIS is on his left rib with Jason’s initials signed under it. He also has JHT on his left wrist.

Accent?: American

Unique mannerisms/physical habits (bites nails, talks with hands, taps feet when restless): He is always running a hand through his hair, regardless of when it’s short or long. It’s a nervous habit but he also just does it sometimes.

Athletic?: Extremely so. He goes to the gym at least four times a week.

INTELLECT

Level of education (high school drop out, undergrad BA/BS, PhD, MD, etc.): Dropped out of high school during his senior year to become Speedy. Though he had great grades in all his classes.

Level of self esteem: Roy likes to think he’s confident, but he does get put into instances where he doesn’t feel like it. On average it’s about a 7/10.

Gifts/talents: AMAZING at archery-- like one of the best ok I can’t stress enough how good he is at what he does. Also A1 at cooking & fixing up houses. 

Shortcomings: the only movies he’s seen start to finish are the Indiana Jones movies & spin offs. Everything else he has fallen asleep during at some point.

Style of speech (loud, mumbler, articulate, etc.): He mumbles a lot and sometimes talks fast-- seems almost jittery. 

“Left brain” or “right brain” thinker?: right brain. he is definitely a visual person and uses non-verbal cues when figuring out how to comfort or approach someone. roy is all about body language.

Artistic?: he can barely draw a stick figure tbh

Mathematical?: sort of? he knows enough to make all his trick arrows and other inventions but he’s not going crazy.

Makes decisions based mostly on emotions, or on logic?: EMOTIONS. 

Neuroses: none

Life philosophy: “To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.” -- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Religious stance: nothing was ever really pressed upon him. Though he does have a lot of knowledge on the Navajo religion & how they express it due to his time when he lived on the reservation.  

Cautious or daring?: Daring to himself, cautious for those he loves.

Most sensitive about/vulnerable to: he’s really sensitive about Jason. like if anyone brings him up you can either make roy go so soft but if you threaten jason, you’ll see roy’s ugly side.

Optimist or pessimist?: Little bit of both. He can be either depending on the people he’s with. He can counter anyone’s pessimism with optimism and vice versa. 

Extrovert or introvert?: happily on the middle

Level of comfort with technology: i’m gonna say 9/10. considering if he can’t hack into a system he just hits it and somehow it works.

RELATIONSHIPS

Current marital/relationship status: MARRIED AF

Sexual orientation: bisexual

Past relationships: He’s had plenty flings in high school--- he dated a blonde detective for three years up until about 10 months ago.

Primary reason for being broken up with: He’s only had one serious relationship before Jason and he was the one to break that off.

Primary reasons for breaking up with people: Roy left for Bolivia for three months so he called things off with the girl.

Level of sexual experience: Uhm.... a lot. Every day. rip

Story of first kiss (if any—if not, how does he/she want it to happen?): He was probably 15 years old and took a girl to their sophomore homecoming dance and awe yeah cute nervous Roy.

Story of loss of virginity (if any—if not, how does he/she want it to happen, if at all?): Senior year. Back of the truck he STILL HAS TO THIS DAY.

A social person? (popular, loner, some close friends, makes friends and then quickly drops them): Roy used to have a wide circle of friends. He still does but he doesn’t hang out with them too often. But if anyone ever needs a favor, Roy is there ASAP

Most comfortable around (person): Jason Peter Harper-Todd

Oldest friend: Dick Grayson

How does he/she think others perceive him/her?: As some goofy, ex-junkie who doesn’t know shit about shit and that he’s only good at shooting arrows.

How do others actually perceive him/her?: That this babe is hot af & smart af. he’s so good w/ mechanics & most technology. expert marksman. NEVER MISSES. he’s so funny and loyal and a gr10 person to have on your side

VOCATION

Profession: Head of Youth Cases at CBI ( Central Bureau of Intelligence )

Past occupations: Oliver Queen’s side kick

Passions: Archery, fixing cars, singing, loving Jason

Attitude towards current job: it gets him money tbh that’s all he wants

Attitude towards current coworkers, bosses, employees: Vasquez is literally always pregnant. Smith never shows up. Carter sweats too much. Gomez is alright. and Quinzel is pretty nice. His boss, Sarge Steel, has been flirting with him since he took over and Roy’s awkward af

Salary: $ 125,345 a year

SECRETS

Phobias:  MONOPHOBIA-  an acute fear of being alone and having to cope without a specific person, or perhaps any person, in close proximity. This 'closeness' might mean in the same house or flat or even in the same room.

Life goals: To have a happy family in a big house with a huge yard for everyone to play in.

Dreams: That he can be half as good a man and father as his dad was.

Greatest fears: Falling back into a spiral and resorting to drugs

Most ashamed of: His history of drug usage

Most embarrassing thing ever to happen to him/her: He was testing a grapple hook arrow and fell flat on his face.

Obsessions: indiana jones & stir fry

Secret hobbies: he can sing karaoke real fckn good LOOK

Secret skills: singing tbh. also lowkey a tech nerd and can hack p well

Crimes committed (and was he/she caught? charged?): Dealing drugs, caught several times.. He’s gotten a lil too involved w/ foreign affairs but never caught.

What he/she most wants to change about his/her current life: He wants to not have his boring desk job and really wants to go out as Arsenal again.

What he/she most wants to change about his/her physical appearance: Roy’s highkey full of himself so nothing oop

DETAILS/QUIRKS

Daily routine: Get up, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, go to work, go to the gym?, come home, cuddle w/ jay, eat dinner, more cuddles, bed time.

Night owl or early bird?: neither. roy thrives in the afternoon. he sleeps late & goes to bed early

Light or heavy sleeper?: HEAVY. he sleeps through anything & everything

Favorite food: Anything w/ eggs in spite of Jason

Least favorite food: broccoli. especially uncooked.

Favorite book: The Scott Pilgrim series

Least favorite book: he hasn’t read anything besides Scott Pilgrim so idek

Favorite movie: Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

Least favorite movie: he doesn’t rlly have one

Favorite song: El Scorcho- Weezer

Least favorite song: Look What You Made Me Do- Taylor Swift

Coffee or tea?: ENERGY DRINKS

Crunchy or smooth peanut butter?: smooth

Type of car he/she drives (or wishes he/she drove): 1963 red Chevy Stepside

Lefty or righty?: righty

Favorite color: RED

Cusser?: oh yeah

Smoker? Drinker? Drug user?: ex-smoker/drug user

Biggest regret: Not admitting his feelings sooner

Pets?: two pups; Scooby & Atticus

[ryik-the-writer]

CHAPTER 11: The Girl With Blue Eyes pt. 1

Wendy stumbles into another case while trying to recover from the de Vil incident.

Thank you so much  to everyone for their support and reviews! I never would have thought my little fic so many people so happy! Kisses! Kisses everywhere!

(A03 link)

Previous Chapters:

·         Chapter 1: Pan meets a Wendy

·         Chapter 2: Scars (Felix’s Story)

·         Chapter 3: Day One

·         Chapter 4: Revenge and Fireflies

·         Chapter 5: Brighter than Stars

·         Chapter 6: filler: The Tigress

·         Chapter 7: Operation Spotless!

·         Chapter 8: Operation Spotless: Reporters Down

·         Chapter 9: A Dance with the Devil

·         Chapter 10: filler: Felix and the Pancake

·         Chapter 11: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 1

·         Chapter 12: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 2

·         Chapter 13: The Girl With Blue Eyes: Underground

·         Chapter 14. Recovery

·         Chapter 14.2 Recovery some more

·         Chapter 15: Trapped

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Tink stepped out of her little green bug late Monday afternoon, the fresh-from-the-fryer box of doughnuts she brought for Wendy keeping her ungloved hands warm as the Maine weather was already dropping into the sixties.

Felix jumped out of the other door. “I can carry those you know.”

“I’m a modern woman Felix.” Tink disclosed. “When I bring a box of doughnuts twice my size, I expect to carry it up three flights of stairs.”

Felix gave her a non-amused glare and took the box from her.

“Thank you boo.” Tink winked, walking a head of him.

“You think for a man who charges out the ass on rent, he’d put in an elevator.” Felix grumbled as they headed up the stairs.

“Hey, it’s nicer than mine and Pan’s. Besides, it’s good cardio.”

Felix panted and rested on a wall. “You think all the running around we do with Pan we’d be regular bodybuilders.”

Tink waited for him to catch his breath and made no further tease about his health. Felix always had to be careful about how he pushed himself physically. Too much strain on his body could lead to a seizure before they even knew what was happening. The lack of physical endearment left the photographer too lean and too undernourished in Tink’s mindset, and she often tried to bring him along on her brisk morning runs or to one of her yoga classes. However, his medications, doctor appointments, and interludes with Pan often left him too exhausted to make such attempts. He had energy today, however, and Tink counted that as a blessing.

Not that she was very religious.

They reached the third floor and paused when the door at the end of the hallway, Wendy’s door, opened.

They watched Wendy peak her head out, looking at one end of the hallway and then to the other until she finally noticed them. She paused, letting her mind assure her that they were real and not the phantom figure she had been seeing the last two days, and stepped out into the hall, bucket in hand.

“This doesn’t look good.” Felix insinuated, noticing Wendy’s rumpled clothing and greasy hair.

“Hi!” Tink chimed, trying to keep her eyes on Wendy’s face and not on the crutch lying next to the dried up something on the floor. Hadn’t Pan said he had lost his crutch?

“Hi.” Wendy responded tiredly.

“We tried to call but…”

“Yeah.” Wendy spoke hoarsely. “I forgot to charge my phone.”

“For two days?” Felix deadpanned, earning a swift kick to the ankle from Tink. She snatched the box of doughnuts from him. “

We brought you a snack!”

Wendy looked down at the fried, sprinkled cyclopes and made a face. “They look great, but I’ll pass.”

Tink frowned, concerned at Wendy’s lack of appetite and the fact that she now had a giant box of doughnuts to eat.

Wendy went back to her task, taking a soapy rag from the bucket and scrubbing harshly at the dried vomit on the ground.

Tink knelt down at her side and picked up the crutch, eyeing the bags under her eyes and sending a worried glance to Felix.

“Did your Dad get home okay?”

Wendy stopped, her expression darkening a bit. “Like I said, my phone isn’t charged.” She scrubbed harder. “I don’t want to talk to him anyway.”

Tink bristled. In the short time she had known Wendy, she’d seen her in an array of emotions, from sunshine smiles to seething irritation, courtesy of Pan. She had yet to see Wendy at her darkest, see her totally and utterly defeated. Just the other day she was convinced Wendy Darling didn’t even know what defeat was.

“How about we go back inside?” Tink suggested.

“I’ve got to clean this up.” Wendy mumbled.

Tink looked at the miraculously clean carpet surrounding the spot. “Mr. Gold has someone come to clean the carpets every couple of months.” she reassured. “He’ll handle it. Let’s just-”

“Will you just leave me alone!” Wendy shouted in her face.

“Okay,” Felix stepped in when Tink shrunk back. “Let’s calm down and regroup.”

“I am calm!” Wendy yelled at him. “I just want to be alone.

Felix knelt down to her level, scooping the brush out of her hand before he could use it as a possible weapon. He stared at her for a moment, eyes wandering over her face, seeing the restless nights and paranoia as he had seen it in so many others.

Including his own.

“What happened with de Vil was horrible.” Felix began, keeping calm when he saw Wendy’s form tightened, “It shouldn’t have happened, you shouldn’t have been in harm’s way and shouldn’t have become her target,” he watched her lip tremble and prepared for the backlash, “and I’m not going to sit here and tell you it’s over, because for all I know it will never be over for you…”

Wendy’s head fell and Felix turned to Tink for a tap-out.

Tink knelt beside them, tentatively taking Wendy’s hand. “Cruella de Vil gone, Wendy. Graham killed her and now her body’s chilling in a meat locker until the Boston authorities pick her up. She’s gone Wendy, and she can never hurt you or anyone again.”

Wendy shook her head. “I know that. I heard the bullet go into her.”

Tink shuddered and Felix glanced around to see someone down the hall peak from their door.

“Let’s move this inside, okay?”

Tink escorted her inside while Felix picked up the forlorn crutch, shaking his head. Tink sat her down and went about making tea, noticing the lack of dishes in the sink or dish drain and fearing Wendy hadn’t been eating properly.

Felix looked back and forth at his girlfriend and at Wendy who had decided to curl up in a tight ball on the couch. He turned to Tink and mouthed “help me”. Tink mouthed back, “I’m making tea, shut up!”

“After my dad left,” Wendy spoke up suddenly, “I saw that Pan had left his crutch. I wanted to throw it out the window since he ran out on me so suddenly, but I thought the walk would do me good so I decided to take it back to the paper.”

Felix glanced at Tink who had turned sour. Probably mentally cursing Pan.

“I stepped out of my apartment…” Wendy shook her head. “And I could hear her.”

“Hear who? Mrs. Asperdam from down the hall?” Felix inquired. “Look, the woman’s a little senile. Just turn the music up and-”

“Felix what the Hell are you talking about!” Tink yelled at him from the kitchen.

Felix looked back at Wendy. “You weren’t talking about the lady down the hall who talks to her dead husband’s ashes?”

“No.” Wendy affirmed tiredly. “I was talking about that blasted devil woman.”

Felix and Tink looked gravely at each other. “Wendy, Cruella de Vil is dead. You must have-”

“It was her damn red heels!” Wendy cried. “I thought she was coming down the hallway. I could hear the clicking and I could hear her voice.” She covered her face, shoulders shaking. “It felt so real.”

Tink sat the tea things on the coffee table and sat beside Wendy. “Wendy, it’s okay. I know how you must feel but-”

“How would you know!” Wendy shouted, jumping off the couch and pointing accusingly at her. “Did you have a gun pointed at your head? Did you watch a pregnant dog get mutilated? You don’t know, Tink! You weren’t there!”

Wendy felt the guilt before she felt the grief. Tink was the last person she wanted to take her anger out on (Pan being the first). She felt shamed and lost and all she wanted was to be left alone to drown in her outbursts.

“You’re right.” Felix perked up suddenly, earning a mixed look of shock from his girlfriend. “She doesn’t know what you’re going through, but I do.” He tapped on the scar running down his face.

“After my accident, I couldn’t get behind the wheel of a car for five years. I would freak out at every sound, every bump. There are times I still can’t…”

Tink reached for his hand when his voice started to break. Wendy watched as he patted it and felt humbled to witness such a loving bond.

“I still can’t drive. I tried once and went into a panic attack. I can’t drive, but that doesn’t stop me from getting in the car. I ride shot-gun or in the back.”

“And he screams at me if I go over 20 miles per hour.” Tink teased.

“I don’t scream, I…bellow.”

“I’ve heard opera singers with less tempo.”

“Anyway!” Felix piped, frowning good-naturedly at his giggling girlfriend. “My point is that despite the trauma, I still try to power through life. You went through Hell, Wendy. But you have to move forward or that devil woman lives forever.”

Wendy covered her face and willed de Vil’s snarl from her mind.

“How do I even start?”

Felix started shuffling through his pockets and pulled out a series of rumpled gum strips, receipts, and a wrinkled pink flier.

“There’s this thing every year at the hospital,” Felix explained as he smoothed out the flier, “A kids day. It’s short, sweet, and totally easy to write about.”

Wendy smirked as she took the flier. “You’re going to send me into a room of screaming kids?”

“I’m giving you a chance to get out of the house. Keep your mind occupied so that the nightmares won’t have room to take over.”

Wendy looked down at the flier. The pink hurt her eyes.

“I’ll only be for a few hours.” Tink chimed in. “And I’ll be at the refreshment stand the whole time.”

Wendy looked back and for the between the two. They were trying so hard to help her heal. As much as she wanted to curl up into a ball and die inside, that wasn’t who she was, and Felix and Tink seemed to understand that.

Taking a deep breath, Wendy nodded her consent. Really, how bad could it be?

-,-,-

Bad. Really, REALLY bad.

Between the overwhelming smell of disinfectant mixed with sugary sweets, the bright florescent lights, and the stampeding children who were well enough to get out of their beds, Wendy was amazed she had lasted the thirty minutes she had been there.

She managed to get a few words in with a parent and a nurse, but her pen would jump off her pad every time a child would brush against her or screamed at the top of their lungs. She partially blamed the cheap, rubbery pad Felix had lent her. She couldn’t wait until Graham returned her journal from the evidence.

She only prayed it wouldn’t have blood on it.

After fifteen more minutes, Wendy decided she reached her limits and went to find Tink at the refreshment stand.

“Hey,” she said, barely dodging a skipping boy. “I’m going to head back to the Mirror.”

Tink nodded and wiped the sweat from her brow. “Want some lemonade before you go?”

Wendy grimace at the yellow liquid. “No thanks.”

Leaving the children’s ward was like stepping into another world. The scent of disinfectant was more prompt, the lights more brighter now that there weren’t children running all over the squeaky-clean floors.

And it was blissfully quiet.

Wendy let out an anxious breath as she searched for a water fountain to quench the dryness in her mouth.

She’d only been out of her apartment for three hours and she was already exhausted. Worst of all, she knew the story she had just written was award-winning crap but she didn’t have the time nor the energy to rewrite it. She’d drop it off at the paper and let Pan or whoever deal with it.

Wendy’s sensible boots echoed in the hallway as she walked. The creepily empty hallway. Wendy glanced around and frowned. Where were the nurses? What part of the hospital was she in anyway? Had she made a wrong turn?

As she ventured further, more cautiously now that she was sure she was lost, the overall scenery seemed to change. The floor had transitioned from illuminate tile to rough concrete, the walls from their pale blue to unwashed white. Even the air smelled different, more denser and moldy. The natural lights from the windows was replaced by the barely-there illumination of a yellowing bulb.

“Oh no.” Wendy muttered. The last time she wondered off she ended up in a kennel. For all she knew she was walking right into the morgue.

She stopped when the light no longer reached down the hall. “Hello?” she called into the darkness. “Is anyone down there?”

The sound of rusty creaking responded, causing Wendy’s uneasiness to escalate to an alarming point. The creaking suddenly turned into unsteady footsteps that sounded like they were picking up speed.

And getting closer.

Wendy gathered just enough of her wits to begin stepping back, but her eyes wouldn’t leave the shadowy figure coming right at her.

Oh God not again.

Wendy felt frantically for the wall to prevent herself from falling back but instead tripped over her own feet as the figure ran straight into her. She screamed, as did the figure, and grabbed its shoulders to keep it at bay.

“No! I am not going through this again!” She flipped the person onto their back effortlessly and picked up her only accessible weapon: her floppy notebook. She raised it, ready to beat this thing if she had to render unconsciousness.

“Please…”

Wendy paused at the meek voice of her opponent. She slid back just enough for the weak lightbulb to display the person’s face.

Long, unkempt hair framed a sunken face, the eyes of the face were wide and woefully terrified. Wendy’s eyes crept down the person’s face to their thin neck to the collar of their torn, dirty gown.

“I…are you okay?” Wendy whispered.

The creaking from before resumed and before Wendy could blink, she was on her back, the person jumping up and moving around frantically.

“Please don’t…”

Wendy sat up, looking at the…woman? She couldn’t tell the poor thing was so malnourished.

“I wasn’t here…I…”

Footsteps echoed down the hall and the woman limped away as fast as she could.

Wendy stood, trying to gather what she had just come across.

“You!”

Wendy shot around, a light brighter than the dingy lightbulb overhead blinding her. An unforeseeable hand grabbed Wendy’s collar and pushed her into the wall.

Wendy’s mind seemed to freeze in a haze of white shock. She couldn’t cry out or lift her arms to fight the man holding her against the wall. Her whole body just seemed to shut down her defensive instincts.

Behind the white light she could just see movement, but couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing to her ears.  There was someone tall holding her to the wall by her throat an someone behind him reflecting two clashing lights in her eyes. Spectacles perhaps? She couldn’t tell from the blackness blinding her view.

She was choking to death for sure. She could feel the sweet burn of deprivation in her lungs and feel her head bloat with the need to breathe. No other thoughts came or went. It amazed her how just this morning she had been terrified of going out because death had been just in her reach.

Now, she couldn't find the strength to feel anything, just to give into the spacey darkness that was engulfing her vision.

And suddenly, like waking up from a deep sleep, it was over. Air filled Wendy’s lungs at a pace so rapid it made her nauseous. She coughed and gagged and looked around for the person who assaulted her, but the hallways were now empty. The only indication that another life had been with her was the swirl of dust from their retreat and burning on her throat.

She grasped at the wall, her head spinning with shock and relief as hot tears ran down her cheeks.

She felt her way along the walls, limping her way back the way she came until the lighting changed. Her mind was unable to comprehend what she had been through or who had attacked. She wasn’t even sure if she was attacked at all. It didn’t feel real, like she was attacked by a phantom rather than a person. The only thing she knew for certain was that someone had ran into her. She had looked into their eyes and touched their icy skin. Something was wrong here, something unnatural, or illegal at least.

She could finally smell the over-sanitized hallway instead of the moldy decay. She looked back down the hallway and noticed some torn security ribbons crumpled by the walls. It must have been a blocked off wing of the hospital, one that no one was meant to go down.

Her head finally cleared as she stumbled back into the children’s ward, face tear-stained and throat dry as sandpaper. Avoiding the strange look from the passerby’s, she located the blessed exit and reveled in the cold fall air, taking in gulps to cleanse her lungs of the mold and mildew. It was sunset now, an entirely different world than the one she had been in.

Wendy leaned on a tree, trying to decide what to do. Did she go to the police or hospital security? Did she go to the Mirror, tell Sydney or even Pan about what happened? She still wasn’t sure what had happened exactly, who she had fought and who had attacked her and why.

She sighed tiredly, her mind still buzzing from the lack of oxygen. Tomorrow she’d return to the hospital with Sydney or Felix and go to security, maybe uncover some video footage from the cameras. Right now, she needed sleep and to be as far away from people as possible.

She kept her eyes downcast as she strolled down Main street, and briefly considered ordering something quick from the diner but ultimately decided against it, not wanting to draw attention to herself while she had developing bruises on her throat.

Something shifted from the corner of her eye, and on skittish instinct, she shot around to see what it was. Something had just ducked into the alley of Granny’s diner. The same alley she had nearly been killed in last week.

Wendy forced herself to stay calm. She did not need to have another panic attack in her state. “It’s nothing for me to worry about. It’s just a stray cat.”

She began walking again but the sound of a weak cry from the alley halted her steps. Her skin began to crawl at the absurd idea that Cruella de Vil’s spirit was haunting the alley, and thus her.

“Don’t do it.” She told herself. “Keep walking. Go home…oh blast it all!”

She pulled out her cellphone and turned on the flashlight.

“Please be a cat! I’ll take it home if I have to just no more assaults today!” she prayed under her breath.

She shined the flashlight at the trash bins and jumped when a limb kicked one in its haste to hide.

“Not a cat.” Wendy squeaked. She cleared her throat and attempted to sound less terrified. “Who’s back there?”

The whimper repeated and Wendy worried that she was about to come across an injured child or a derange homeless. She gripped her phone, ready to use it as a defense against whoever was behind those cans.

She stayed as close to the wall as she could, legs itching to start running if something jumped.

She stopped when the thing behind the cans eased out and looked up at her.

Wendy nearly dropped her phone. “You…”

She stared down at the beaten, pale, and unmentionable thin woman at her feet, shaking and staring at her like she was Death itself. It was the very woman who she had wrestled to the ground of the abandoned hospital wing just an hour ago.

And she had the most intense blue eyes Wendy had ever seen.

--,-,-,-,-,-

So who's the mystery girl >->

Part 2 is underway! I swear on my stack of vintage Archie comics it will be out soon and not 6 months from now!!

[lindoig]

Days 16 and 17

Two days travelling from Katherine to Darwin.  I had been looking forward to seeing Darwin for years, but never quite believed it would happen – not sure why, but apart from a couple of very short business trips up here 15-20 years ago, it remained something of a sleeper on my bucket list – somewhere I always wanted to spend some time, but imagining the distance too much of an inhibition for some weird reason.

The trip up was quite interesting.  We did a bit of a detour on the way to Bachelor – about 70km on the scenic route and it really was quite a change from the main hghway!  A narrower road, but greener and definitely more interesting with numerous creeks, many with a trickle (or a trickle plus) of water in them and more interesting vegetation – more palms and quite a lot of cycads, most no more than about 2-3 metres high, with just an occasional giant towering at perhaps 5 metres.  Plenty of taller trees, but also quite a bit of grassland, areas of it submerged under a few inches of water, some sporting a range of water-lilies as well.  And there was a lot more brighter greens instead of just the muted green of the tree leaves.

We entered the Litchfield National Park via Bachelor and stayed at a Caravan Park just outside the Park border.  We set up the van and headed off to explore in the mid-afternoon.  We went to the farthest listed attraction and worked our way back.  Wangi Falls were impressive and while I was photographing the drongos (spangled that is), Heather saw a crocodile swimming across the football oval-sized pool under the falls.  There is a boardwalk allowing you to stand right over the edge of the pool – a great place to photograph the Falls, an opportunity we both took.

On to Tolmer Falls, not as well promoted and a bit harder to get to, but we both thought they were even more impressive than the Wangis.  Two really long drops at the end of a spectacular narrow gorge into the pool at the base of towering cliffs, lit and glowing brilliantly in the sunset.  Truly amazing colours.  Huge sheets of vertical rock, almost pulsating multicolour in the fire of the sinking sun.  The rock wall was so sheer, it was as if a giant hand had simply sliced the gorge out with a mammoth knife.  There was only one other person there – he just dashed down for a quick photo and back to his car – and that probably added to the moment for us.  Almost a religious experience.

We called in at a couple of other places on the way back to the caravan, but it was getting dark and we decided not to do any of the walks.  I poked around the edge of Tableland Swamp, but in the absence of any indication of crocodiles, I was a bit cautious.  Lots of birdsong, but it was almost dark and I saw nothing.  I went back on my own early next morning after being assured that there were no crocs there, but I saw very little – two Rainbow Lorikeets flew over and I saw a Forest Kingfisher and a White-throated Honeyeater as I drove away.  Closer back towards the caravan park, however, I saw a huge wild black boar – it just ran across the road in front of the car.

It was then just an easy drive up the Stuart into Darwin and we set up the van at the Lee Point Caravan Park in the early afternoon.  We did a bit of shopping and explored a bit around the city including calling in at the Visitors Information Centre for some brochures and started planning our next two weeks.  We explored a bit around the esplanade and port area (and got sent on our way when we inadvertently approached a restricted area) and ended up at the Charles Darwin National Park – a very small NP in Darwin.  It contains an underground Nissan Hut with a display commemorating some of the action from WWII and we went in and read quite a bit of the material there.

Coming from the south, and maybe the generation we are, the impact of the War on northern Australia has never seemed great, but it is obviously deeply embedded in the psyche of people up here.  As we drove norther from about Tennant Creek, there were numerous signs pointing to abandoned WWII airfields, depots other facilities, but the only one we went to was at Daly Waters.  It advertised an airfield and a display, but we never saw the display.  The airfield is obviously still used occasionally – there were signs discouraging cars driving on it because it is still operational – but the hangar where we assume the display should have been was locked up – and heavily vandalised.  Very sad.

But since arriving in Darwin, there are lots of indications of the trauma those years brought to the North.  There is a War Museum and numerous smaller memorials around the city and there are plenty of stories about incidents wherever you go around here.  On the tours and our own explorations, we have heard about the raids (342 people were killed in the very first morning’s bombing raid!), tragic shipwrecks, downed Japanese fighters and their capturers, heroic deeds and utter foolishness.  (The very first planned raid was aborted before the bombers reached Darwin because someone on Bathurst Island radioed Darwin to warn of the approach.  The Japanese heard the broadcast and aborted the raid – and a good job too, because the Aussies ignored the warning even though it was acknowledged in plenty of time!)  Cyclone Tracy seems to have been the only other big event in Darwin’s history, but for some reason, the impact of the Second World War seems much more significant to Darwin and perhaps the whole of northern Australia.  Despite my favourite uncle having been involved in the War up here, it is not something I have really thought a lot about, imagining it to be a bit of a minor skirmish rather than a full-scale invasion attempt.  But having seen just a small fraction of the historical material up here, it has caused me to reflect on what was a truly grave threat to our national security: indeed to our whole way of life in comfortable Oz.

Back at the van, we booked our Adelaide River Tour and our Cobourg Peninsula adventure – but more of that in my next post or three.