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calciumdeficientt · 3 months ago

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I know I already asked you for headcanons, but could you do some headcanons with my OC Mary and Gord? 👉👈

This is so perfect!!! I was about to make a post of Mary hcs anyway so I’m going to kind of co-opt this ask to kind of do some solo Mary hcs but dw Gord will be here!

MARY BROWN HCS (FEAT. GORD)

SOLO MARY HCS

Shes the most kindhearted prep, it really shows. She does her best to act cruel and snobbish but she just doesn’t have the heart to do it, she’s so genuinely nice that it kind of rubs off on everyone around her. It’s pretty infectious, even though most of the preps don’t want to be infected. This endless kindness does get her in everyone’s good graces. It sort of acts for a force field, especially on bullies. There’s nothing that a small gift cannot solve, its not TECHNICALLY bribery if you don’t actually want the service the other party is providing, right?

Her interest in drama leads her to join the school’s drama club. She has every right to use her power and influence as a prep to buy her way into lead roles but she thinks its unfair, so she auditions the same way everyone else does. In the drame club, she got to know Trent a little better, he’s usually the leading man, and that energy follows him offstage too. He’s a pretty cool goy once you get past all the borderline torture he puts other students through and a good friend of Mary’s too

Comes from a good, loving family who despite admitting they’re not fully on board with her dreams of being an actress they’re more than willing to pay her way into it. They just want to see their daughter happy, and if she feels more comfortable in front of a camera than she does behind a jeweller’s desk than that’s the way it’s going to be. They moved from Cambridge to Bullworth when Mary was a baby, but she retained the accent because all their house staff moved to America with them. Nannies, maids, chefs. Everyone Mary interacted with in her formative years had a southern English accent.

Cares for Bif after tough fights. They have a good sibling relationship going, so if he’s particularly down or injured, she likes to take him out somewhere for coffee or yknow… to the emergency room. Mary comes to every fight, she makes time specifically to come and watch the fights, she’s not got a great stomach when it comes to violence, she likes to let Bif know he’s supported whenever he fights. Even if he’s just sparring. It’s a real testament to her incomparable niceness. She comes, despite her hatred for fighting, to support her friend.

Started and funded their first Bullworth festival with the help of Miss Phillips, every student can make any film they like (with a few restrictions, no snuff films, no nudity -tasteful or otherwise- and no profanity unless its absolutely VITAL to the plot) they have six weeks to write, film and produce their films and then at the end of that time the films are submitted, screened and a winner is voted for by the student body. The winner receives a shitty plastic Oscar dupe, 20 bucks each and an instant pass on all art and photography classes for the semester. It’s a good morale booster, and almost everyone gets involved. To avoid any clique wars, there is one final rule that Mary introduces… each film cast/crew must contain a member from at least one other clique or the film is disqualified. It makes a difference around the school for like a month before everyone forgets and starts fighting again.

GORD X MARY HCS

Gord and Mary are very much a picture book couple, they’re so happy together. There’s never been a moment that they’ve ever fought, or even frowned at each other. They’re very happy, very healthy and so in love. It’s almost poetic, its the kind of thing any kid dreams about. They assume that they’ll marry their childhood sweetheart and live a good life, usually in a castle. Well for Mary and gord who’ve been playing happy families since they were tots, its their reality. They took a small break through middle school and the start of high school but there’s a very good chance that even during those years, their minds were still on each other.

Shopping dates are an absolute must. Gord prides himself on his fashion taste, so one thing he really likes to do is style outfits for her. They go out and he gets busy creating outfits for her based on what’s seasonal and trendy. Gord really has his finger on the pulse of fashion, a fact he’s really not modest about, so Mary always looks stunning and chic. Not one to miss out on any fashion fun, Gord buys matching outfits when he can, and complimentary outfits when he can’t.

Gord is too sentimental for his own good. He remembers every single milestone possible, and he gets Mary gifts for every one. Wether it’s the day they held hands for the first time, the day they first kissed or the day they both said i love you, a slew of fancy gifts is crammed into her dorm. It’s a little much, but it really proves to her that he cares about her.

Both of them are allergic to flowers, so Gord has to get creative. Her uses anything from his limited crochet skills to dried flowers, if its an important event Gord will usually get some bespoke flowers made. For their 1 year anniversary he commissioned a French artist to make a bouquet of roses out of blown glass and solid gold. They’re absolutely beautiful and as a bonus, he even had a vase made or them.

They have tea dates in Harrington house, an event that requires the rest of the preps to clear off. It’s more intimate than a fancy dinner or a night being paraded around at a gala. They light candles and sit around Harrington house’s smallest dining table to drink real tea, and spill metaphorical tea. If the preps weren’t so worried about hearing something about themselves they’d rather have not known, they probably would linger dunring these dates.

#bully cce #bully #bully canis canem edit #bully rockstar #bully se #bully scholarship edition #bully oc #Mary brown #gord vendome

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vendettasfanfictioning · 1 year ago

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Since I can't, y'know, shut my mouth, I decided it's better to make a whole ass post about this so thank you @juniperjello for asking.

Here are my Top 13 Destiel Traxx AKA Fic Recs:

And This, Your Living Kiss (M) is a GODSEND I've read this more times than I can count, I even have NerdyNerdenstein's podfic of it saved on my phone, it is that good. It stars poet! Dean relearning his love for the arts and Literature professor! Castiel, whose favorite author just so happens to be Jack Allen (AKA Dean). I also love love loved the family dynamics here, it's all so homey and cozy. The poetry in this is stunning too. Highly recommend this one!

A Thousand Lies (E) follows con artist! Dean on his latest assignment of unraveling rich businessman! Crowley's secrets by playing as his secretary, all the while juggling dates with accountant! Castiel. Except there's more to them than meets the eye, and the plot gets thicker and thicker until you find yourself stuck to your phone for more than 4 hours, hopping from one chapter to the next. Yes that's exactly what happened to me lmao I was hooked, and stories like these where the angel fam are humans are always so fun. I love spotting the parallels and whatnot.

(goldenraeofsun, author of the previous fic, has a ton of fics I highly recommend so if you vibe with their style, go check out their account! I was torn about what to put here between "The Original Apple Pie Latte", "Not the Fire, but the Spark" and this—also I'm pretty sure I have half of their works bookmarked by now 😭)

Forget-Me-Not Blues (E) has all the correct vibes of a classic early 2000s romcom. It's set in Sam and Jessica's wedding, with Dean as the former's best man and Castiel as the latter's. Oh, and did I mention they have history? A particularly roughly-broken high school love story? That they absolutely refuse to acknowledge so now the wedding prep is so full of tension it's choking everybody? Yeah... This is a good one.

An Exercise In 'Worthless' (M) is one of the first destiel fics I've ever read. At that point, I was only on S2 or S3 and had no idea what was happening or who most of the other cast was, but the vibes were immaculate and reading it again as I progressed through the show, it just kept getting better. It's got tattoo artist! Dean whose shop is set up beside Gabriel's cafe (it's called the Physical Graffitea heh). It's got grad student! Castiel attending the same uni as Sam for a niche course in dialects. It's got Dean thinking Cas is more interested than Sam (missing the heart eyes Sam and Gabe are giving each other). It's got family feels!!!!!! as these four idiots live normal, non-supernatural lives!!!!!!!

Kissing Strangers (T/E) is a happy(!!!!!) queer awakening story, wherein Castiel realizes he's not as straight as he thought when he gets kissed by Dean for a social experiment. There's actually three fics in the series, the first one covers The Kiss while the next two are insights on the progress of destiel's relationship. It's really neat, and the author—sharkfish—has a lot of fics I've been reading this past week. (They have a lot of good ace! dean and/or ace! cas fics!!!!!!!!!!)

In Due Time (Dean Winchester is Saved) (T) is not only touching as hell but also mind-blowing. 26-year-old Dean is zapped to the future by an unknown power, and what does he see? Himself, happily settled; married to an angel of the frickin' lord with a son; and his brother, still hunting. THIS FIC IS AN ABSOLUTE GEM!!!! Baby Dean interacting with Cas means So Much to me.

Broadway Musical (T) is, in my humble opinion, an absolute banger and a classic. It's got the fun, lighthearted tone of a romcom and my favorite trope of "they may all be dicks but at least there's no murder" with the angel family. It's a reimagining of the first ever Armageddon: what if, instead of being the Righteous Man himself, Dean was chosen to father the two brothers of old with Jo Harvelle, with the entire Host of angels excitedly chattering about it in heaven. Except the cupid's arrow doesn't sink in, to either Dean or Jo, and they don't fall in love. So good ol' Cas comes down to take matters into his own (awkward) hands.

Sand and Salt (E) continues off of S9 fallen angel! Castiel. The timeline is important to me for two reasons, namely: Kevin and Charlie. Destiel are highlighted at the second half but the first is just Sam, Dean, Kevin, and Charlie helping Cas settle in as a human. They go to a mall to shop and eat and bond and they are so, so precious to me.

Carnival Oasis (E) is a series as well, but it's honestly SO worth it. We have creature! Castiel who eats sin and extremely guilty! Dean who first confessed his sins to Cas as a way to gauge what the fuck he is. But then he kept coming back. They get all gooey and shit here, as they should be. Plus the reveal on Cas' background??? It made me go insane I swear.

Convenient Husbands (E) is honestly just. So good. I've reread it multiple times over the past few weeks and it never gets tiring. This one's about hunter! Dean and Garuda! Castiel forming a marriage bond... Purely for convenience, of course. I'm also obsessed with the set-up of the hunting community in this AU, they got a whole network and base and it's awesome you should definitely read it. (Annie D also has a lot of fics on AO3 that you should check out—I'm very partial to "It's Always the End of the World Somewhere"!!)

This Witch!Cas AU series is based off of probably my most favorite story prompts to ever trend in Tumblr history: it's about witch! Cas who's moved to town after his grandmother's passing. Madame Novak's will is all that everyone's talking about, as it states that Castiel needs to marry to not only inherit the estate but also to keep his magick. Gardener and shopkeeper! Dean finds this tasteless, what with everyone treating Cas like he's just some prize and not, y'know, a person. Then, Castiel makes an announcement: he ties the key to the estate to his cat's collar, and whoever gets the key may take his hand as well. Everyone scrambles to chase after the surprisingly smart feline... except for Dean, who's slowly warming up to the little guy, and the cat to him in return.

it's brighter now (G/T) is actually a series but!!! It's a babyjackverse like come on, how can you resist that? This speaks for itself and it says all you will ever need in a fic, which is BABY JACK!!!!!!!!!!

conversations between brother & sister (T) is, simply put, criminally short but perfectly encapsulated my ideal ending for Supernatural. It's two fics; the first is about Jack and Emma, and the second is about Jack and Claire. The reason this is here is because I am a firm believer that this deserves more recognition and love and we need more AUs like this. Destiel are so, so tender and sweet but the main focus is, of course, Jack's conflicting feelings. I would leave a hundred thousand kudos on this if I could.

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manasseh · 1 year ago

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'23w46 weekly wrap-up

i missed doing these, i only did a couple earlier this year but looking back at them it's really nice. it also makes it obvious that when there is no time to reflect and plan, it's already fucked and i should take a step back - note to self or whatever.

since passed my first hebrew midterms rather easily, i'm excited to learn more in this next block! more people have signed up, but the professor's small office seems to fit all of us if we cram a little :) i love the fall weather, with the low sun or early evenings in the city ✨

i went to a concert with my sis in law and her weird ass sister! and got drunk for the first time in so long ~ i miss being out and about like that so much

🧑‍🎓 Next week the new block starts, but I will only be taking Character Design. I'll be doing the same for the rest of the year, only taking the 5EC courses and leaving the rest for next year.

🧑‍🎓 as for my PROJECT! it's going!! The head in neat layers (to the best of my abilities) imported into live2d, where I am ALMOST done prepping art meshes and warp deformers. I found a lot of good movement references for the features I want, and have a gameplan :) I started sketching the body out a bit better too, but that's not a priority at all.

My Sifu has been bombarding me with ideas for the model since I showed him my progress (unprovoked but certainly welcome), and he seems like a perfect client - regardless of him being broke. Alas, I'll need to rig it first, and only then dream on.

📹 I've been screen-recording the process, and I'm setting up a youtube channel and cleaning my dev-blog here. I've always wanted to make videos and share, but figured I'd never do so if I don't start now. Besides, people have been asking where they can follow my work so I need a link to send ^^'

🧑‍🎨 I'll also be sharing about my drawing goal there! The first month is almost over, and apart from the plan's figure drawing and perspective exercises, this week I did a few slightly longer drawings as well. For variety!

misc.: i practiced old TOPIK papers and made a banger tuna mayo rice bowl // finished watching bocchi the rock! with my serb // doing as much as possible on paper // there were other things too i guess.

#wrap-up #studyblr #drawing #nas is a tryhard #long post

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zenaidamacrouras1 · 2 years ago

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Backhoe Bonus Drabble

This is a random summer scene that doesn't fit into any of my Backhoe chapters. I'll have a series of these that I'll probably add on as a separate work in the Backhoe series after the whole fic is finished, but have a tumblr drabble for now. This takes place during the time jump between chapters 19 and 20. I don't think it's majorly spoilery, and I don't think you need to read the fic to get it. If you like to read a fic pure with no surprises whatsoever, maybe read the fic first.

Chapters 1-20 are here, chapters 21 and 22 are mostly ready and will post this week and next, probably going to be like 25 chapters total please stop laughing at me I'm trying to end this damn thing. (initial chapter count was like 5) (go ahead and laugh) (but also feel free to encourage me, I think I'm finally out of my writer's block, yay!)

Late July:

Ever since Bucky became manager for his crew, he’s tried to make sure they don’t have unexpected afternoons off. On the one hand, sure, there’s nothing better than finishing a job early and peacing the fuck off to head home. On the other, well, you don’t get paid for hours you don’t work. So, he tries to make it so everyone’s getting paid, is all.

But sometimes, the timing just doesn’t work out like that. Right now, it’s 1 pm on a Friday, and they’ve wrapped up this gig, and it don’t make sense to start on the next job till Monday morning, so everyone heads home. Bucky promises some long days next week to make up for it on that paycheck. So it’s backslaps and a few dirty jokes while they all pack up, and then Bucky’s in his truck driving the winding roads back home.

Steve’s gonna be there, he thinks, with a grin he’s glad no one can see. Steve’s just come back last night from helping out with some action out in San Francisco. Greenpeace paid him to fly out there and do trainings on art shit and paint some big-ass banners.

Bucky’d like to burst with pride when he saw those damn banners hanging from a god damn skyscraper, protesting globalization. Steve was on strict orders from Greenpeace and one J.B. Barnes not to get arrested himself; he just painted the banners. Bucky had shown the pictures to Peter, cause Peter was the only guy at work he’s out with on both the politics stuff and on the gay stuff. Peter’s genuine “Holy shit, man” was worth all the teasing that followed about how fucking lovesick Bucky is about his sexy little anarchist boyfriend.

But also, he had missed Steve, fuck it all but he did, and dammit the guy was only gone five days. It doesn’t bode well for when Steve goes back to college next month, but Bucky’s never been one to worry about a debt before it comes due. That just means suffering twice.

Bucky listens to the truck for any errant noises as he drives. He'd thought he heard a knock this morning, but apparently whatever it was has worked itself out for now. He switches on the stereo.

Bucky tries one of the playlists Steve loves listening to, featuring Against Me! and a bunch of other political punk bands. Bucky doesn’t hate it, he doesn’t, but fuck, it’s a pretty summer’s day and the sunlight’s filtering through the leaves and everything green is just so happy to be alive and growing in the mountains right now. That music is so damn strident, sometimes a man just wants to enjoy some peace in this world and forget about all the problems. After half a song, Bucky switches to some bluegrass. He and Steve don’t have to like the same music, he figures.

Becca Jane, never shy with her opinion, has declared that Steve’s music of choice sounded "like you stuck a bull in a barrel with an electric guitar and shoved it down a flight of stairs." About three days into listening to the punk music coming out of Steve’s studio in the laundry room, she’d come home from her MCAT prep course and handed Steve a pair of brand-new bluetooth headphones and an ultimatum.

So the Barnes kids like country music and their houseguest, who happens to be Bucky's boyfriend, likes punk. Steve switched to headphones and there really haven’t been any other major conflicts with him living there. It’s kind of a miracle, Bucky thinks, as he turns onto Brushy Fork Holler Road. Jean’s out in her front yard gardening, and he raises two fingers up off the wheel to say hi, slowing in case she’s got something to say, but she just waves and looks back down to her precious rose bushes. Sometimes Bucky thinks she spends more time fussing over her flowers than Bucky does raising five kids, but to each their own. Looks pretty, anyway.

Then it's just another minute until he hears the crunch of gravel under his truck tires and he's looking at the house he's lived in his whole life.

The house is quiet when he climbs out of the truck in the driveway. No one’s expecting him, so that ain’t a surprise. The girls are probably down at the swimming hole or playing video games at Maria and Monica’s. He kicks off his boots on the front porch and goes prowling through the house. He grins when he hears Steve singing from the laundry room.

Steve’s singing is—well, the thing is, if Steve was good at everything, that just wouldn’t be fair, now would it? Steve’s a great strategist on this pipeline shit; he’s been such a help to Bucky on his quest to stop the fucking thing. He has a great head for the lawyer stuff and the activist strategy side of it. He’s learning how to cook and getting real good at it. He’s obviously a gifted artist, as everyone knows, and he’s fucking nice as hell too. The girls love him, and they are a tough audience.

And, well, he has other skills Bucky ain’t shouting to the world about, that’s private, but Bucky sure ain’t got nothing to complain about. When it comes to the bedroom, Steve’s a god damn prodigy, Bucky thinks with a shiver of pleasure down his spine. Steven Brooklyn Grant God Damn Rogers.

So it just makes sense that Steve would have a few faults, and that's the most charitable thing Bucky can say about Steve’s singing. Steve couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket—hell, he couldn’t carry a tune in a semi-truck full of buckets. He’d flip that semi right over, highway’d be backed up and on fire from here to Timbuktu.

Which is why Bucky’s at the door of the laundry room before he can piece together what song Steve’s torturing to within an inch of its life. It’s the fucking Dixie Chicks. Or just the Chicks now, whatever. Steve is obediently wearing the headphones Becca told him to wear at the risk of death if she had to hear “that atonal screeching you call music one more fucking time" and so he has no idea how loud he’s “singing”—honestly, it ain’t anything Bucky’d categorize as singing, but there are words and they are carrying through the door.

I wanna walk and not runI wanna skip and not fallI wanna look at the horizon and not see a building standing tallI wanna be the only one for miles and milesExcept for maybe you and your simple smile

Bucky feels a slow sly smile stretch across his face and pulls the door open. Steve’s singing a country music love song. Steve's facing away from him, wearing just a pair of boxer briefs and a loose black t-shirt. Bucky sees Steve's pants are in the sink; he must have gotten paint on them and taken them off to soak.

Steve's got one hand wide to the side like he's balancing on a tightrope and the other is painting some kind of white accent on a flower. He makes it look so easy, light movements bringing life wherever Steve touches.

Cowboy taaaaake me awaaaaayyy

Steve caterwauls to his flowers, and Bucky can't take the suspense anymore. He waits until the paintbrush is a safe distance from the canvas, then slips his arms around Steve's slender waist and lowers his lips to Steve's neck. Steve jumps with a little shout and whirls around, dropping his paintbrush. He jerks his earbuds out.

"You're early!" Steve gasps. He's blushing something fierce.

"Who's this cowboy you're singing about running away with, and should I be jealous?" Bucky whispers into Steve's smooth, pretty neck. He gives a small kiss. "Don't tell me I gotta fight a cowboy for your honor. I ain't much with a six-shooter, and I am kindly scared of horses."

"You're scared of horses?" Steve asks incredulously, always looking for something to direct the conversation away from his own feelings.

"Maybe they're scared of me? Me and horses never had much opportunity to get to know each other, makes more sense to be scared of horses than chickens," Bucky says, and offers a few more kisses to Steve's neck.

"Horses are majestic and chickens are evil,” Steve says darkly, and sighs, leaning into Bucky’s lips on his neck. “Hmm. Well, my cowboy is very handsome, you should definitely be jealous."

"Maybe I'll steal him away. I got lots of beans. Cowboys cain't resist a good bean."

"Well, my cowboy is good-looking but a bit slim in the brains department, so he might like you, actually."

Bucky huffs a laugh into Steve's neck, and drops a few more kisses, running his mouth softly up and down Steve's neck. Steve suddenly busts out a loud laugh, which is not the reaction Bucky was going for. He'd been expecting more of Steve's little sighs.

"What?" Bucky says in frustration, when Steve's still laughing.

"Buh—" Steve can't hardly breathe for laughing.

"Spit out whatever fool insult you've done come up with, then," Bucky says, a smile quirking up despite himself. Steve looks so fucking pleased, the jerk.

"Buckaroo!" Steve manages to burst out with a wicked grin.

"Oh, hell no," Bucky says. "Nope. Absolutely not. I ain't a fucking cowboy." Steve's still laughing at him.

"That right, Buckarooooo?" he taunts.

"I'm a hillbilly. It's different," Bucky says with a mock threat in his voice.

"Okay, okay, so what do you have that my imaginary cowboy doesn't?" Steve smirks at him. Everything is a challenge with this guy.

"Hmm, it's more of a show-don't-tell kinda thing," Bucky murmurs, moving back into Steve's space. "See, cowboys are all talk."

"So what are hillbillies?" Steve says, suddenly breathy, Bucky notes with satisfaction.

"Action, Stevie, we're about action."

It ain't but a second till Bucky's pulled out that sweet little sigh he wanted from Steve, and a whole symphony of pretty sounds after that.

#stucky au #stucky fanfic #Appalachian Bucky Barnes #Artist Steve Rogers #Drabble #Idiots in Love #sweet sappy lusting

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hugmekenobi · 1 year ago

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Ch 9 Snippit

Hey guys! Had quite a hectic week and wasn't able to work on the next chapter for a while and fell behind a bit but it's sorted now! So, got a little preview for any interested parties and I'm happy to report that I'm back working on it :)

“You left pretty soon after Cid briefed us?” Hunter said as he came through the door of the ship to find you sitting in the cockpit.

“It’s getting harder to be in her company.” You provided as an explanation. Cid had been less than sympathetic when you all had told her about Echo and the more days that went by and the more stressed she got about time running out on her operation, the more unpleasant she became.

Hunter knew exactly what you meant. The necessary but minimal financial payoff of sticking around was slowly becoming not worth the shitty jobs or putting up with Cid’s general demeanour. Ideally, he’d have you all leave to do something else, but he kept coming up empty on the latter part of that plan.

“Where are the others?” You asked.

“I sent them to gather supplies before we leave.” Hunter explained. He came to kneel in front of you and traced his hands up and down your thighs, making his ulterior motive for sending the others on an errand run quite clear.

Oh, how you loved a man that planned ahead. It had been quite a long time since the two of you had had any alone time and the frustration had been building for a while now. Lingering looks and innocent touches that threatened to turn not so innocent the more you both did them and it was threatening to boil over so, with jobs from Cid still being scarce, you two had decided to take advantage of an empty Marauder. “So, we have about 30mins give or take.” You said with a suggestive grin.

“Uh huh but we can’t mess about. We’ll have to be quick.” Hunter replied regretfully but he figured a quick moment was better than no moment at all, especially given the recent dry spell.

“Hhmm you have the dirty talk down to an art form.” You breathed as you stood and grabbed his scarf and started leading him back to your bunk.

Hunter’s reply took the form of cupping your face and bringing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. He laid you down without parting his mouth from yours because it had been too fucking long since he’d been able to do this.

You moaned in relief at having him this way again. You tangled your fingers in his hair and kissed him back with fervour.

Hunter kissed his way down your chest, and he reached for the waistband of your leggings, but he paused and grumbled in annoyance.

You propped yourself on your elbows. “Why’d you-” It was then you heard why he’d stopped-Wrecker wasn’t exactly softspoken. “They really have impeccable timing.” You groaned. You pushed him off you with an aggravated huff and fished out both sets of armour so it would look like the two of you were getting prepped for the mission rather than looking like anything improper was about to happen.

“That was quick?” You said casually as Omega came through the door first, hoping any signs of being flustered or caught off guard had left your face.

Omega merely shrugged and set off to her room.

You followed the young girl’s back. You knew she was taking Echo leaving a bit harder than the rest of you and you hoped there’d be opportunity to talk to her about it properly soon.

“We got the supplies but gotta say Sarge, I don’t know where you got the rest of this stuff cause it doesn’t actually exist here.” Wrecker said as he came aboard.

“Not on this planet anyway.” Tech added as he stored some of the food away.

You made stuff up? You turned to Hunter with an affectionate smile.

“Thought it would buy more time. I forgot Tech would be aware that they weren’t available here.” Hunter mumbled as the ship took off.

You chuckled. “Guess your mind was elsewhere huh?”

“It definitely wasn’t on ipsium mining.” Hunter grunted.

You laughed in agreement. “Well, gotta focus up Sergeant, we have a mission to complete.” You said, patting his thigh.

You stood and walked along the hallway before you had to stop. Your lips and body still tingled with remnants of what nearly happened. Yeah, you were not a fan of this whole dry spell situation. You leaned your hand against the wall and released a long, deep breath in order to channel a sense of calm and to get yourself back in mission mode.

“Come on, sweetheart, we have a mission to complete. Can’t be getting distracted now, can we?” Hunter teased as he walked past you to join his two brothers in the cockpit.

You showed him your middle finger with a playful glare before you also went to the cockpit.

The location of the mines was utterly depressing. It was a barren wasteland. Nothing but desert as far as the eye could see. You sensed this mission would amount to very little and just be an unnecessary waste of time.

You found yourself having a rare moment of wishing you had a helmet like the other three. You and Omega both had to shield your eyes from the dust that the ship stirred up as it had landed.

You all made your way around the corner and found the entrance to the mine Cid had sent you to.

“According to Cid’s coordinates, this is the mine she purchased.” Tech confirmed as he studied his datapad and walked up to the controls.

“And we’re supposed to do what?” Omega asked monotonously. Cid hadn’t given clear direction in the briefing. She had seemed to think stating that she was sending you all to her ipsium mine was enough information.

“Excavate the site got ispium. It is tremendously valuable when refined.” Tech explained. “However, in its raw state, the mineral is highly combustible, like a primed thermal detonator.” He included in his answer before he wiped some of the grime away from the control panel and inserted the key to open the mine doors.

“Sounds dangerous. I like it.” Wrecker said with a laugh.

The door creaked open, and the entry platform was raised but before any of you made a move to enter, Hunter turned to the sound of thunder in the distance and looked at the clouds on the horizon. He knelt down and ran his hand through the red dust.

“Problem?” You asked him.

He thought for a moment. “The storm’s moving away from us. We should be fine.” Hunter replied as he stood. “Tech, (Y/N), and I will mine the ipsium. Wrecker, Omega, you’re on lookout.”

“Both of us?” Wrecker questioned.

“Without Echo, we are a man down. We need Wrecker to assist with operations in the mine.” Tech mentioned.

The mention of Echo had Omega letting out a sad sigh. “You four go. I’ll be the lookout.” She said flatly.

“I really don’t think we need four people for this. Three should be fine.” You said.

“(Y/N) is right. Two sets of eyes are better out here. Cid warned us about poachers in the area. Keep your eyes peeled and comm us if you see anyone.” Hunter ordered before he picked up the mining gear and the three of you headed inside the mine.

The three of you walked through the dark tunnel. The only sound was the rhythmic beeps of Tech’s scanner.

“My scans are not indicating a sizable presence of ipsium.” Tech stated as he stared at his datapad. “Looks like Cid was deceived into purchasing an already depleted mine.” Tech added.

“Gee, there’s a shock.” You muttered but you couldn’t help but feel a little bit smug at the idea of Cid being ripped off.

“Keep scanning. We’ll extract whatever we can.” Hunter said.

You continued to walk for a short while before Tech’s voice stopped you both.

“Wait. I am getting a faint reading.” He lowered his visor and looked up. “There.” He pointed to a high corner of the mine.

The three of you walked over to the section of wall it was located in.

Tech peered up. “The ipsium is going to be difficult to reach.”

“We’ll need to carve out a bigger opening in the rock to get it.” Hunter figured.

“The mineral is far too unstable.” Tech disputed.

“Or I can just…” You clicked your tongue and gave a small wave of your hands.

Tech shook his head. “Any carelessness or slightest friction around it can cause a destructive chain reaction.”

You bristled at the word carelessness. “I’d be careful.”

“You can’t predict-”

“I can predict my unique skillset better than you can.”

“I’m sure-”

Sensing rising tensions, Hunter interfered. “What do you suggest, Tech?”

You pulled back and reflected on what had just transpired. You couldn’t recall a time you had gotten actually irritated with Tech. And he was right, you could have the best intentions and apply the most care but dealing with a mineral this unpredictable needed something that was designed to get it properly. Evidently you were feeling more frustrated than you realised.

“Someone smaller climbs up.” Tech said simply.

“I’ll sub out.” You offered.

Omega moved the small pebbled across her hand before chucked it into the canyon.

Wrecker noticed the irritability in her throw. “Hey. What’s with you?”

“I was thinking about Echo. It’s weird without him around.”

Wrecker had to agree with her there, but it wasn’t really a new feeling for him. “Yeah. But you’ll get used to it.” He said to comfort her.

Omega’s comm beeped and Tech’s voice came through.

“Omega, we require your assistance.”

“On my way.” She replied and stood up with a tired sigh.

“How’s it going out here?” You asked as you came out the mine.

“Quiet.” Wrecker replied simply.

“Passed Omega on the way out. You notice anything off with her right now?”

Wrecker nodded. “I think she’s taking Echo leaving a bit harder than we are.”

“Yeah, I figured.” You agreed. “I almost snapped at Tech back there. She’s not the only one feeling the strain.” You said as you came to stand beside him. “How are you doing with it all?”

Wrecker breathed heavily and adjusted his blaster. “Alright, I guess. It definitely feels different but he’s doing what he needs to do.”

You sighed. “Yeah….” You trailed off for a moment before continuing, “Guess I’m just upset another person to provide impulse control has gone.” You added with a teasing nudge of your shoulder.

Wrecker chuckled and the two of you continued to keep watch in comfortable silence whilst you waited for the others.

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 2 #hunter x femalejedi!reader #hunter x reader #hunter x fem!reader #ch9 preview

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janeaudron · 2 years ago

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Hello everybody. I hope everyone is doing well and week has been swell. And if it hasn’t I hope and are praying things will get better for you.

Small little update.

I’m doing fine, just busy and getting my health better. A lot of things have been happening and adjusting has been fun! Some fun family things are happening, so prepping to be an aunt is interesting.

Art is super slow besides the usual nerve pain, but also because I injured my hand recently by cutting paper of all things and that is taking forever to feel better. Learning Affinity Designer and working out the wireframe bases in that before possibly transferring it over to Photoshop to do the rendering. The amount of art deco references I have saved it growing each day.

Sneak peak to the cards.

And I’ve got a mountain of logos for that board game I'm working on I’m dying to ink and need to put together a template of sorts to start the game dev log of sorts for said game. Majority of those posts will be semi-paywalled behind my ko-fi once it is started.

A sneak peak of some of the logos.

Another thing of note. Having some friends help me clear out drafts on my alt-accounts(and run one for the time being ugh) and catch bots and underaged followers, but Tumblr being Tumblr may have ended up blocking some legitimate followers in the mass banning. So double check if you’re if you’ve been blocked and shoot me a message so we can fix that.

My friends were able to remember a few people and sent them a message, but aren’t sure who all got caught up in the glitching. They apologize a lot.

#update #[trickster's chase]#really tattered my tots injuring my hand #and Otto has not let that down and the phrase I've been using #Jane Audron art #my+art #my art #art #artwork #janeaudronart #jaart

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nayarainchapters · 1 year ago

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SEPTEMBER RECAP

I am very very happy! Busy month, but overall September was nice to me. And the Gods know I needed it.

Of course I had a few problems, but nothing is ever perfect, right?

MAJOR GOALS

Wake and get up at 5 am ✅

No screen time right after waking up and before bed (1h)

Gym✅

Buy new glasses

Be seen

IELTS prep ✅

Create posts for my Art History page

Buy gym clothing ✅

The screen time is a problem for me; in the morning not so much, but before bed.... that's when I mess up.

I didn't buy my new glasses yet, but I will next month. Since April I know I need to see a doctor in October to check if everything is okay, so I am gonna make appointments to the same place and day, in order to save money.

Be seen was a major goal, but I didn't do anything to accomplish it. Very disappointed.

As for my Art History page, here it is: analisesculturais. No posts yet, but coming soon.

SECTIONS

I am happy with my healthy section, cause I finally started the gym. But you guys know how hard it is in the first week, so during the first days I decided to have more time to rest. In the last week of the month I was able to go there 3 times and workout at home once. I saw a dietitian and now I am eating better. I am very, very proud of myself.

As I said, I worked a bit on my instagram page, but I also took a bit of time to keep working on my project. I know I can't apply right now, but I won't give this up.

I didn't plan anything for my vacations. Sad.

I was way better this month than I was in August when it comes to my productivity section. I need to pay attention to my habit tracker and meal planner, though.

I need to work more on my glow up section. The self care activities were partially done, but I can do more, so that's what I am going to focus on.

The witch in me is happy, cause I was able to follow my devotional routine for most days. I also celebrated Mabon, in a very simple way, but I did it.

As I said before, be seen was a major goal and I didn't move a finger to accomplish it. Work to do.

I also didn't have much time for hobbies, which is very very sad. I mean I had time, but I decided to stay in bed and do nothing. More work to do.

I finished Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. Great book.

IELTS prep was done. I didn't want to, for most part, but I did it anyways.

#september 2023 #september recap #recap #september goals recap #september goals #september #glow up #witch devotional #productivity #productive life

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bookswgreen · 1 year ago

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Catch up with me!

My goodness, it's been a while. I had been meaning to make a post at the end of August and such but school prep hit me hard and lost my rhythm and schedule but I'm finally figuring it out.

Reading

If you follow me on Goodreads or Storygraph you might have noticed I have been sloooowly making my way through The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron. I restarted it about three times since I didn't have a consistent schedule to work on it. A lot of artist's I follow have been doing this and as an artist and writer who struggled to work I thought it would be a good idea and I do think it's helped so far!

I actually ended up taking a week off this past week because I'm reading it online and my copy was borrowed when I needed to read on Sunday last week and it wasn't until Wednesday I had time to really get it in. Hopefully this week I'll be better both reading wise and daily pages which is something I really hope to keep doing after I finish because they feel helpful (plus my journal is super cute).

It's an Exceed journal with a Sibylline Meynet sticker I put on. I absolutely adore her art and think the journal is the perfect size for me.

I also FINALLY finished in the event this doesn't fall apart by Shannon Lee Barry. It definitely could have been finished sooner if I had simply sat down to finish it. It wasn't my favorite but it certainly wasn't a bad read. The page length is deceptive because almost every single piece starts on the right meaning there are a log of blank pages. The writing is fairly simple yet endearing. If you want a quick, simple read, this is a good collection for that.

Everything Else

I started a crochet market bag earlier this month to use for grocery shopping which has taken much longer to finish than I've expected. Unfortunately, I don't have any good progress pictures of it but I want to have it done by mid-october at the latest so I can try and finish off a different yarn.

School has officially been in full swing for a while and we have had a lot of activities and I've recently taking up going out to a local bar for line/swing dancing which has been super fun. I'm not the best but I've been learning fairly well I like to think while enjoying my time with friends. It's also super helpful for getting my exercise in while getting out of my dorm in a way that is fun and motivating. I used to run a lot but that's not something I feel confident in keeping up anymore.

I may start a log of every couple weeks on my artist way's journey, we'll see, but I'm happy to have time again!

#journal #book review #the artist's way #booklr

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k1ll3r-k4rg0 · 1 year ago

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About (18+ Blog)

she/he / he/she | unnamed | aromantic bigender transexual | dni if you support communism (or do. i cant stop you.) | dni if minor or no age / mention of 18+ listed.

NO MINORS. ageless or unmarked as 18+ blogs blocked

blogged. this blog is for my character thoughts and my art and my writing. if you want character related reblogs, art reblogs, and complaints go to @k4rg0-f1l3z

i post sexual shit, gore, and other r rated heavy topics. my stories and ocs are r rated. if you don't like heavy topics, dead dove do not eat, whump, gore, violence, suicide, stuff that deals with mental illness problems, don't follow.

if you don't like it, don't follow! i post for myself and my friends! i post what i want! my writing is an escape and a way for me to process my own shit in the world i live in as well as a way to cope. if you don't like it LEAVE

i do a LOT of art and a LOT of writing. however. i forget to post it. so this blog's kinda dead!!! if you want to see more shit from me or of a specific character, don't be afraid to ask and i'll gladly share

ask box always open

about me? im 23, prepping to apply for a phd program in school psychology with a bachelor's in fine arts in screenwriting. i write prose and draw pictures of my ocs with backgrounds coz i love drawing backgrounds

check out my bestie's blogs @yeenteefies for main and @honsebeasts for his really cool awesome neat ocs who i have many stories / ships with

i also play dnd! every week!!! with my super cool awesome dnd friends from college. i play a conquest paladin aasimar (that's warren). he's too much. the tag for stuff related to the party is just #yeehoes

i have bpd, autism, & adhd. if you don't like that, don't follow. i'm unmedicated, but i'm more under control these days.

I do not tag others art or the fandoms the art's from. I only tag for gore (#gore, #blood), flashing (#flashing), spiders/insects (#spiders, #insects, #bugs), or unreality (#unreality). If there's any you want me to add, lemme' know and I'll consider it (I'll probably say yes unless its SUPER specific coz i might forget).

OCS + favorite books, music, movie, etc under the cut.

Trivia: —half Romanian, half Texmex (czech/german + mexican) —fave movie is Fargo —my space sci-fi shit is largely inspired by the tv show The Expanse.

Fave Bands: —Muse (favorite songs are In Your World and Dead Star) —Linkin Park —Amigo the Devil —Nine Inch Nails —Calexico —Brown Bird —Rammstein —MCR occasionally

Fave Books: —American Gods by Neil Gaiman —We Need to Talk about Kevin by Lionel Shriver —Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy —maybe Pet Sematary by Stephen King who is my favorite author

Main OCS:

Vini + Quinn (#vini.png, #quinn.net, #d3m0litionl0v3rs): besties who kill together. vini's quinn's guardian angel. quinn's vini's little death. they've died for each other countless times and their bond is unbreakable. not human anymore

Elliot (#elliot.png): shitfaced. hurt. fucked. broken. pissed off at the world for the shit it's put him through. wishing he could kill them all Derek (#derek.png): strange. alienated. scared. scared of everyone for treating him like another. wishing they'd see how above them he is. Elliot + Derek (#code voltage): besties. too much. freaks. human sometimes. there's an 80s au where they're monsters Derek + Jordan (#prince.png, @/honsebeast's) (#strange&unusual): what you get when a god finds another god when the first god thought he was the last of his kind. They click. They understand each other on a completely different level. Elliot + Kalani (#kalani.png, @/hurrl's) (#chocolatestrawberries): he'll die for her. she'll kill for him. she taught him a lesson and he learned better. now he's as obsessed with her as she is with him. She loves him so much, but it's okay because he needs her love to survive.

Mars (#mars.png): rocky younger years have lead to a chiller middle-aged life. trying to gather the pieces and learn to live again. how you kill the monster? love the monster. human Mars + Danny (@/honsebeast's) (#armada): i love you when no one else will. you love me despite all my flaws. you make me human again.

Warren + Jay (#warren.png, #jay.png, #4m3r1c4nm4n14cs): the fire the flame and the burning smoldering ember. a serial killer and his priest, a god and his follower. two of the same. die for each other to live again. human unless angel.

Cody (#cody.png): broken bruised forgotten sore, too fucked up to care anymore. that's what happens when you back a kid into a corner. he bites to kill.

Other OCs that aren't that important right now that you'll occasionally see tagged but that I won't link are as follows: Ryfraf (whore), Riymah (scary clown goth gf), Derwood (taxidermist), Blue (hacker), Pork/Porkrinds (the happiest merc you've ever seen, @/honsebeast's).

#promo post #pinned

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markmonlux · 1 year ago

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Weekly Dose of Mark

Sunday, May 28th 2023 • 05/28/23 – Memorial Day Weekend

I didn’t write a Weekly Dose last Friday because there was too much going on at the time. And, as often happens, so much kept happening that another week went by. I’m going to do my best to get you caught up.

The first change to my schedule occurred on Monday, May 15th. Normally I would host a freelancer gathering at the Red Elm Café. This small gathering is called Freelance Fandango, and it runs from 11am until 1pm. However, I had to miss it because the Tacoma Art Commission scheduled an online video conference for all selected artists to create artwork wraps for crosswalk utility boxes. We were going to be instructed on how to file contracts and the measurements of the artwork. Representatives from the print company and the city were both there. After their presentation, I had several questions. The questions I raised inspired the other artists to ask for clarification on small specifics. I’m very glad I took the time to attend and didn’t rely on the recording of the event. I went onto Freelance Fandango’s Facebook page and saw that there was a fun turnout of people without me. Everyone complained about the lack of Kit Kats.

Another change to the schedule was Krista having to go into her office in Olympia on Wednesday. She does much better working at home. But, this was a council meeting, and it needed someone on-site to run events.

Thursday, I was busy prepping my bins for Crypticon. Crypticon is the largest horror-themed convention in Washington State and is held at a hotel in SeaTac, very near Sea-Tac airport. It runs three days, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. John Draper helped me on Friday. I spent a little extra to be in the vendor hall rather than the artists’ alley. Not only did I have a backdrop, but the vendor to my right put up a plywood wall between us. With their permission took advantage and draped a spare red tablecloth over it and then hung my shirts on it rather than the poster backdrop. The folks on my other side were a tattooist. He had people booked on his table throughout the entire event. I was grateful for John being there. I would have taken him out to dinner as a thank you. But when I sent him out at lunchtime for some sandwiches, he bought himself a sandwich for dinner. That was a good idea as the Crypticon show starts late and ends late. The vendor’s hall didn’t close until 8 pm. I dropped John off at nine and ate a small dinner with Krista when we got home. I would have to ask John if he had a chance to talk with any of the writers who were selling books at the show.

Allen Gladfelter helped me on Saturday. Allen picked me up at eight, and we had breakfast at Little Jerry’s down the street. We didn’t have to rush and enjoyed a nicely paced breakfast. I’m not used to eating a big breakfast and was quite fortified. Allen was kind enough to use his car so that Krista could use our car to pick up plants and the like for her weekend activities. Allen has helped me at several conventions, and I can rely on him to pitch and sell items when I step away from the table. Allen is slowly getting items of his own to sell: books, prints, and stickers. So we added those to the display, and he made some sales.

I allow myself to get one autograph when I’m at Crypticon. There were a lot of celebrities to choose from. This year I chose Dee Wallace. Dee Wallace is an Actress I’ve been following since the ’80s. Most people will remember her as the mom in “E.T., the Extra-Terrestrial.” She was also the lead actress in “The Howling” and” Cujo.” She’s been active for decades in both film and television. Most of the films have been horror films, so it was very easy for me to keep track of her. I left Allen at the table to see if the line for her autographs was short enough for Allen to get a signature for me. But I got lucky, and she was finishing up with a fan as I went to the table and chose a headshot from “The Howling” for her to sign. As she signed it, she asked if I’d be willing to toss in another $20 for a selfie with her. I couldn’t refuse! I could not get over what a small petite woman she was. And as she signed the photo, I complemented how well her most recent headshot looked. She then said, “Oh, let me give that to you for free.” And she signed it as well. So I had to do something for her. I went back to my table and drew a picture of her in the movie “Cujo,” where she is trapped in the car with the dog on the hood, trying to get in. I then went back and gave it to her when her line had quieted down. She laughed when she saw it. She then flipped through the book to where I drew a review of “E.T.” I’d compared the movie to a boy and his dog film. She laughed again and gave me a motherly slap on the shoulder like I had just tried to pull a fast one. “My husband is going to love this.” She told me.

I have lots of friends who have tables at Crypticon. It’s hard for me to get time to visit them all. Elizabeth Guizzetti writes and illustrates books featuring vampires and aliens. Other artists I know who were in Artist Alley are Eli Wolff, Mark Brill, Chad Scheres, and Nick Gucker. I chose to be over in the vendor’s room this time and sat across from Jason Emmott and his wife at Evil Threads. I was worried that my friend Travis Bundy wasn’t going to be able to sit the entire convention because of back pain. But he has Kevin McCoy with him, and that lightened the load enough that he was able to manage all three days. I’d hoped to have my neighbor Pat Smith with me on Sunday, but he had other commitments. Thankfully I was able to manage by myself, and Crypticon is a very easy show to set and tear down as the car was parked very close by. The show was not as profitable as last year, but last year it was absolutely nuts! So, it’s tough to compare the two shows. I think I will still stay in the vendor’s hall because of the extra display options.

My Uncle Bill, an identical twin to my father, moved to Shoreline, WA, on May 25th. I’m going to give him a call in a few days. I think his daughters are moving him into his apartment right now. I know that they were invited to a wedding. I believe it’s Cody Wagner’s wedding, a relative on his late wife’s side of the family.

I was able to host Freelance Fandango this last Monday. There were seven of us in attendance: Britton Sukys, Corey Macourek, Stan Brown, Nori Kimura, Haley Waddington, Mark Brill and myself. Cory and Brill brought in movie poster art to show. Brittan brought comic and graphic novel art that he’s been working on. Brill brought in another art book. I asked everyone to submit suggestions for a new bingo game I’m creating. I made one for horror movie fans that is selling well, so I want to create one for Anime fans. By the end of the meeting, the whiteboard was filled with suggestions. These were erased, and then we all drew versions of the proposals. I brought a new KitKat flavor this week: Banana Caramel. It was voted one of the better flavors. I made sure to bring one home for Krista since she found the bag. I also have been giving a couple to the staff of the Red Elm Café as a thank you. They have been very generous in letting us use their meeting room for nothing more than the snacks and meals we buy.

Once a month, I host another event, a drawing session at the Grand Cinema. We call it The Grand Drawing Room. It runs for two hours from 6-8pm. Attendance for this event has been filling the room. This month we had a cosplayer named Miriam as our model. One of my tasks is to position the model into interesting poses for the artists. We also changed the room’s layout this time, with the tables close to the sofa on which the artist stood and sat. Before, we had things arranged with the tables in rows, and late arrivals were stuck in the back rows. This month many of the artists brought friends who were in the back reading books and watching the group quietly draw. One of the artists approached me after the show and asked if she could be the cosplay model for next month. I've already posted the event announcement with her photo. I set up a Facebook page so everyone had a location where they could show off their artwork. You can see photos and sketches of our sessions at: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1042279923844176

Speaking of the Grand Cinemas, both Mark Brill and James Stowe did movie posters this week. Brill did a poster for “The Seven Samurai,” and Stowe did a poster for “Perfect Blue.” I gave the binders holding past posters to Brill before his on Thursday. I then retrieved them and took them to Stowe for his turn in the lobby on Friday. I sat with him and helped to keep track of sales. He sold more posters on Saturday.

There were several shows happening this weekend. I didn’t make it into the Punk Rock Flea Market. I was accepted off the waiting list for Tacoma’s Night Market, but by then, I’d already committed to doing the Tabletop Expo. But this week was up in the air as Krista and I weren’t sure if we’d be traveling or not. In the end, I did not table at the Table Top Expo, but Allen Gladfelter and Mark Brill did. Instead, Stowe and I carpooled up to Renton to be part of a panel. Polo, the organizer, asked me if I could line up some artists. Stowe and I stopped at The Cedar River Smokehouse for a BBQ lunch before we went to the expo. He had a chopped porked sandwich. I ordered the brisket sandwich. The owner came out and told us about some new sandwiches he was offering. Instead of a long bun, these would be on a round potato or onion bun, with coleslaw and pickles as part of the sandwich. I changed my order to it and was glad I did so; it was delicious. Stowe’s side selection was coleslaw, so he didn’t change his order. My side was macaroni and cheese. The extra carbs were delicious. Our panel was not as well attended as I had hoped. It was Stowe, Allen, and myself at the table with nobody in the audience. The show was very small and thinly attended. However, we turned on the microphones and made them loud enough that they could be heard over some of the expo hall and got into a discussion with each other. The debate lured our lone audience member into the room. He was joined by the organizer, and we had fun. Both Stowe and Allen are teachers and are looking forward to summer break so that they can hang out with the rest of their artist buddies. Stowe made sure to give me the Grand Cinema poster binders for safekeeping.

Alley News

My neighbor Pat Smith and I have gone on walks nearly every day, even on days when I’ve already gone on a walk with Krista. Pat taught me a couple of Pokemon Go this week. He called me up yesterday to see if I wanted to go for a walk. I turned him down as I was busy out in the yard with the weed whacker. The replacement for the battery I ordered still is being processed. I wonder if they discovered that all of their stock is filled with faulty batteries. In the meantime, I’m stuck using the weedwhacker. I tried the push mover, but the grass was too long for it to function easily. It’s been sitting idle for several years, and I’m sure the blades need sharpening. Krista bought plants. She’s also been planting seeds and cuttings that she nurtured over the winter. We should be getting some vegetables soon. Judy Martin is sitting outside on her carport now that the weather is warmer. The Smiths are over at her house a couple of times each day. We were yelling at each other not to give away any spoilers, as today was the last day of the Sumo Tournament. Krista and I have gotten our neighbors addicted to watching sumo.

I had some dreams:

May 14

#IDreamt time-traveling teenagers from the future infiltrated high schools in the past. Rather than murder, they assassinated would-be politicians’ characters with rumor, innuendo, and such.

May 15

#IDreamt I was a runaway youth who was also a material witness. I was bad at faces but good at remembering badge numbers. I ran from the police assigned to my transportation because they had black tape over their badge numbers.

May 16

#IDreamt that I could tell when one dream stopped and another began. My brain then had the option of rewinding the dream for two minutes to change the ending.

May 17

#IDreamt While doing an old friend a favor, I walked into a plot to blow up a wealthy oil magnate while he was getting drunk at a club. I think I was the only sober one there, but high school chemistry was a long time ago.

May 18

#IDreamt Barack Obama wanted to hire me to do a graphic novel. He’d hired another artist who did it, but his advisors didn’t like it. I looked at it and saw it was superior to what I could do and told him so. He still wanted to do it.

May 19

#IDreamt creating a space station with a functioning pool was less of a challenge than you would think. The surprise was in water in the pool becoming sentient a few decades later.

May 22

#IDreamt I was meeting my sister at Steam Engine Station’s Cafe, where she went to get a Latte. I found her flirting with a young Marlon Brando. I wondered if we were in the afterlife, and I was just slow in figuring it out.

May 23

I dreamt I was at a client’s convention, searching through two flash drives for images to insert into a PowerPoint presentation mere minutes before their time slot was scheduled.

May 24

#IDreamt David Hasselhoff was celebrating his birthday by giving away fried chicken at a seaside bar. He was also signing his autograph. He was behaving just like he did in “Piranha 3DD”.

May 25

#IDreamt after its debut at a county fair, the Rat-Bait Guitar was remarked as a dog’s chew toy (minus the rat poison). Sales soared after a TikTok video showed a dog being a music critic.

May 26

I dreamt I took a large cedar tree pole to a lumberyard and haggled with them over its value.

May 28

#IDreamt I was mistaken for a spy and found myself wearing an exosuit that could mimic my physical appearance and completely protect me. The drawback was I couldn’t take it off. And it could mess with my mind by feeding me false info.

I read a couple of books:

“Paperback From Hell: The Twisted Story of ’70s and ’80s Twisted Horror Fiction” by Grady Hendrix, Rating: 10

I was a voracious reader from an early age. As a teenager and college student, I consumed 3-5 books a week, often re-reading my favorites. And I was a horror fan. It never occurred to me that these decades would be the heyday for such books. As I flipped through the pages, I was amazed. I pointed to the covers and said, “I read this one, and this one, and this one, and this one. Oh, and this one too.” I’ve been showing this book to my friends, and they asked if I’ve read any of the ones featured. They chortle when I confess I’ve read most of them. They become intrigued. I don’t know why. A lot of those books were completely trashy! Most of them were! But I couldn’t get enough of their gory, nightmare-fueling contents. Now I’m using it as a reference to hunt down books at the used bookstore. These aren’t titles you will find in the audiobook section of the library. My niece, who bought me this book as a gift, was intrigued and might get herself a copy.

“Sacrament” by Clive Barker, Rating:7

There was less goo and grisel than I was expecting. And since I kept expecting it, I was kept on edge. It wasn’t until I was halfway through the book that I settled on the rhythm the author established for the story. That was a bit of relief. I hadn’t read a horror novel in a while. I first started to read Barker in the ’80s when horror was a bit extreme in themes, description, and insane writing decisions. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to wade up to my hips in gore and goop. That’s not to say that there is a lack of some disturbing images. I enjoyed hearing Mr. Barker’s storytelling voice again.

I’ve watched some movies

53. May 16

No Man of Her Own (1932) Rating: 7

It’s quite possible I watched this film when I was a kid, that is, if they allowed pre-code movies on television. The romance angle must have left me flat if I had watched it before. I was probably more interested in the card shark aspects. As an adult, I enjoyed it for many reasons. I got to think about how much better movies were pre-code when the innuendo allowed for more salaciousness. I enjoyed it as it was the only time the two leads worked together, even though they would marry years later. And I enjoyed it because of the character actors and the wonderful sets. These early films kindle my nostalgia. I watched it on a Netflix DVD.

54. May 18

Ted (2012) Rating: 7

There comes a time when you realize you’ve watched the same clips from a movie so many times that had you spent that same amount of time just watching the film, you would have seen the whole thing by now. So, before I started to get my Ted clips confused with Ted 2 clips, and before the rumored Ted 3 came out, I thought I should see the film. Why haven’t I seen this film? Perhaps it’s because I don’t smoke pot, drink beer, or make jokes about hookers. And having met Sam J. Jones, I can tell you my reaction to the experience was very much like that in the movie - minus the cocaine. I watched it on Amazon Prime.

55. May 24

The Deadly Mantix (1956) Rating: 6

Do you want to see a giant mantis? This is the film for you. It also comes with lots of stock footage of air force planes. There’s also a lot of footage of civilian airforce spotters. Perhaps a thank you for all their hard work in looking for airplanes that never appeared during WWII. The danger of the cold war was made abundantly clear with multiple references to the various lines of defense against “the threat” against “us.” I watched it on a DVD from my personal collection.

Not a movie, but an Anime series on Netflix I finished watching:

Junji Ito Maniac: Japanese Tales of the Macabre (2023) Rating: 6

I lived in Japan for a year back in 1979 before Anime and Manga started to influence American culture. But I got hooked on it while I was there, and I was particularly fascinated by their spooky tales, which differed in their approach to horror. This collection captures the weirdness of their horror.

Songs I woke up with in my head:

“Honky Tong Women” by the Rolling Stones

“Royals” by Pentatonix

“Here Comes The Sun” by the Beatles

“The Distance” by Cake

“Tusk” by Fleetwood Mac

More next week,

Mark

#cosplay #journal

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eyeofneehdle-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Canvas as body landscape

13/10/22

Into the unknown, once again.

Not cleaning or prepping the canvas for a new ‘chapter’ but rather looking through a peep hole.

The trace, the mark they made. The dance, the movement as well. Children clients have a very able bodied. They run, the play, they move around the room.

20/10/22

Continuum, moving through.

‘the self is ultimately as process’ Create and recreate in contact with others.

Sophie gave me a clean space. Almost like a blank slate feeling. She lets me slow down, read, prepare, reflect. Ii could step back and look at the whole canvas. The canvas has been at home this whole time and it’s staring at me. I had enough it. It was judging me. I need to start anew while holding them. I only want to work with white for now. Only white would allow me to see.

3/11/22

Plaster of Paris

Natural tension. Wounded, healing, patching.

I needed mending. I felt shattered from lectures this week. Plaster of Paris POP Bandage is found in the new art cupboard. Google told me it’s used to make casts for immobilisation following fractures. They are also used following surgery and orthopaedic corrections treating joint and bone conditions, thus aiding the healing process. I put it across the canvas and was going to use wire the run through it to represent Sophie. I wanted to make a cord, an umbilical cord so some white play dough was involved. As i put it across and through the canvas something emerge. The colours still appeared through the white cover and it looks like a glimmering universe. The cord in the middle looks like a back bone. Which is hurting at the moment. I decide to run with it. Wire it through. I found some metal in the studio I wanted to include it to the part that make my head. I wanted a balance between something very soft, broken, hard, metal that i felt in my body at this present moment. The uncomfortable yet quite strangely gentle.

30/11/22

-symbiosis relationship

-Chromosomic

Spreading throughout the body

Yellow - liquid of the body

The client’s intertwined, connected relationship with the carer.

sense of protection, gentle exchange

Liquid erasing, spread, blurred. Texture mimicking the client’s 3D work. Metal and Iron wired giving structure and strength, silver hair, growth.

Pin stabbing back bone.

The canvas was frozen in this state for a while as nothing move in my thinking as a therapist. I was frozen. I process this on a different artwork separated from this canvas. I wanted to protect it? I didn’t want it to get completely ruined at the time.

3/3/23

What was once frozen had melted and dried. The open wound, dried blood, form a scab.

Some veins are visible to see. Especially in my eyes.

Bandages were ripped but a chain from the studio window were linked, adding weight, gravity, ground, support.

Flooding of energy

For a long time the canvas was covered with a sign ‘please do not touch, she’s held by a thread’

She’s no longer. She’s much stronger than I thought.

I view the canvas again today. In spring light. Im impressed by the texture. The dried scab.

I rubbed myself with blood. It gives me abundance of power. I was frighten, to be, to say, to feel. I am no longer.

23/4/23

Even the most horrid image looks better in spring light. The body completely exhausted. Only sustained with water, spring time air and tomatoes during the time of writing dissertation.

5/5/23

Body of water

I was asked, where are you in your journey to become an art therapist. I’m still finding my way, there’s probably a lot I’m yet to know. I’ve used my body to ‘feel’ and was able to ‘listen’

For the past 2 years I didn’t know I coated myself in silver, I transformed I grew another body on the canvas so I can examine it in detail. It was gruesome but I needed to see all my wounds. I needed to understand it. It’s never been so visible.

Although, it’s muddy, it’s coated in silver. There was a quote about minerals that glimmer, like silver, gold or diamonds. There’s something about them that makes people think of them as noble. Glitter, shimmer is sign of life, shining water means fresh, clean water. It’s transparent. Only water that is drinkable that gives life.

This is my body of water right now. This is who i am right now.

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alleiradayne · 2 years ago

Photo

In Baldur’s Gate, Dragons Dungeon You! | Art Master Post

An SPN/D&D mashup that can be read on its own or part of the greater series The Way Things Ought to Be.

On a quiet afternoon a week shy of Christmas, Dean is interrupted while poking through the news for a case. Someone is pounding on the Bunker door. After a brief huddle with Sam and Castiel, they investigate to find Charlie on the other side, a box of books at her feet. She needs to use their archive for research and a place to stay while she does it. Of course, she's always welcome at the Bunker. And when Dean discovers her trove of Dungeons & Dragons books, she offers to run a quick campaign.

But the mysteries aren’t just in Candleekeep. Charlie seems to have one of her own. Except no one can put their finger on it. The campaign unravels--along with Charlie’s secrets--as she tells the story of The Scrivener’s Tale.

Chapter 7 - Ramble On

Summary: To Delimbiyran! Jack attempts to get to know Charlie better in an effort to help solve her mystery. Warnings/Tags: D&D, intrigue, the usual, Charlie Is Weird Again Characters/Pairings: Castiel playing Castiel, Dean Winchester playing Rawridan, Sam Winchester playing Mephisto, Eileen Leahy playing Fechin, Jack Kline playing Comet Shadowpool, Charlie Bradbury Pop Culture Reference Count: 5 Word Count: 4123 Song: Ramble On - Led Zeppelin

Before becoming God, Jack had always venerated the ways in which humans interpreted reality. All the emotions and responses to stimuli. The varied vehemences. Fear intrigued him. As a nephilim, he had experienced it far too often. But since foisting the mantle of God, he no longer felt fear. Or much of anything for that matter.

Fucking omnipotence.

Sure, he’d saved the world. Saved his family. A part of him missed the thrill, though. Not the threat. But the raw fear itself. Of the deepest and darkest spaces, the creeping, crawling presence lurking unseen in the vast ocean. Unspeakable horrors of unfathomable, otherworldly power.

Fear. The oldest emotion. And greatest of them all: fear of the unknown.

The Bunker door creaked as it opened suddenly, swinging just enough to admit a small shadow through. A tiny light bobbed about haphazardly in the darkness. Jack closed the cover of his book—The Shadow over Innsmouth—but otherwise remained still, carefully watching as the light and the silhouette descended the stairs.

Jack had overheard Dean and Castiel discussing Charlie earlier that week. How her behavior, even for her, had worried them. And though he, too, had noticed some rather quirky things, Jack was not one to judge. Despite his godly status and, thus, nigh all-encompassing knowledge, he had reconstituted the veil between himself and whimsical human nature. Free will, wholly.

But he was a mere five years old. A precocious, curious, kindergartner.

The flashlight disappeared down the steps towards the kitchen, and Jack slipped from his seat. Quick and quiet, he darted from the library’s darkness and through the war room. Just as he descended the steps, he caught the bobbing light as it turned the far corner, and he followed. As he suspected, when he reached the furthest intersection, a door around the next corner clicked shut, a soft snict snapping it in place.

He wandered back to the kitchen, deciding against pushing his luck. He hardly knew Charlie—well, he knew her, but in that weird omnipotent God way. Unhelpful at best. What would actually mean something to him was why. Why the subterfuge? Why the sneaking?

Why?

No, the irony was not lost on him.

Breakfast might help break the ice. She liked french toast and eggs. At least he could put some of that all-seeing-eye to good use. By the time he had everything prepped, Sam rounded the corner from the dormitory hallway, suited up for a winter run.

“French toast?” Jack offered.

Sam considered the mixing bowl, then shook his head. “Save me a plate, though. I’ll eat when I get back. For now…” He trailed off as he grabbed a banana. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“Wait,” Jack started. “Before you go, I wanted to ask you something.”

Sam’s face turned white as a sheet. “You okay?”

“Yes, I’m well,” he said with a wave of his spatula. “It’s Charlie. I overheard Dean and Castiel discussing her the other day, and I… I thought I… I just saw her, but I can’t remember.”

Relieved, color returned to Sam’s cheeks as he sighed. “Can you… see where she is right now?”

“You know I will not, Sam,” Jack admonished.

He nodded with a grimace. “Sorry, I wasn’t implying you should spy on her. We’re all worried, though. Eileen noticed, too.” He fell silent a moment, and an inquisitive squint knotted his brow. “Have you noticed anything else? Any other weird behavior.”

Jack set his spatula down and wiped his hands on a towel. “I… do not truly know Charlie. I know her standard quirks and mannerisms. But the only odd thing I’ve observed is…”

Nothing. It was as if he was attempting to recall a millennia old memory. And no matter how hard he tried, no matter how far back he retraced his steps, from the kitchen to the war room, all the way back to the library, he found not even a hint of Charlie’s existence. It was as if he had wandered into the kitchen and began preparing breakfast for himself.

“You can’t remember again, can you?”

“No,” he replied. “And I assume you cannot either.”

Another grimace contorted Sam’s face. “That’s the thread, yeah. We’ve all seen her do something weird, but whenever we try to tell someone else or even attempt to think about it…” He paused as he snapped his fingers. “Gone. Like nothing ever happened.”

Jack scanned the counter as he searched his thoughts again, one last futile attempt to find something, anything. But nothing came to him. He considered the counter top, the eggs, the cinnamon, the vanilla and powdered sugar. The thick slices of challa. The syrup. Maybe Charlie would appreciate breakfast. French toast was her favorite after all.

“Let us know if you see anything,” Sam said, interrupting his thoughts. “Like, right away.”

Jack nodded, resigned, a little defeated. “I will.”

With that, Sam vaulted the stairs for the hallway, out of sight. Moments later, Dean and Castiel joined him—much earlier than expected but welcomed nonetheless—and Jack remained quiet, granting the space and time owed to them. They discussed cases, travel plans, food, and music. A great many topics came and went but Charlie was not among them. Even when Sam returned from his run, their concerns with her never came up. Jack let the matter rest. He would do as Sam had asked of him. If anything, he would make a proper effort to get to know Charlie.

By the time she awoke and shuffled into the kitchen, the others had gone, and Jack was ready. A steaming cup of coffee and a warm plate piled high with french toast, topped with syrup, powdered sugar, and whipped cream sat on the empty table, waiting.

When she spotted the food, her eyes widened, darted to Jack, then back to the plate. She pointed and said, “Is that…”

“For you, yes,” Jack finished. “Everyone else ate. You’re the last one up.”

She murmured her thanks and shuffled across the kitchen to slump onto the bench. And Jack scurried around the counter and sat opposite her, elbows propped up on the table and chin in his hands.

Charlie had already dug in, stuffing her face full of toast until she could hardly close her mouth. Then she spotted Jack and froze. “What?”

“Do you like it?”

She set her fork down and straightened as she chewed. A swig of coffee washed it all down, and her mug returned to the table with a heavy thunk. “What’s going on?” she demanded.

Of course she would see right through him. “I’m worried about you. Everyone is. I thought we could talk.”

Another one of her narrow, side-long stares bore into him for a second before returning to her plate. “I’m fine, Jack. I appreciate the concern, but I’m good. Great, even. Just getting used to sleeping at the Bunker again.”

“I could help with that,” he offered. “If you’d like.”

Charlie considered the thought a moment between bites, then shook her head. “I’ll manage.” She took another bite and a sip of coffee, then pushed the plate back to him. She had cleaned it alarmingly fast, and though odd, the new memory felt rock solid to Jack.

“We should get everyone together early again and knock out the rest of the campaign,” she continued. “I’m damn close to narrowing down this cure.” She stood then and headed towards the door. “Meet us in the library?”

He nodded, and she left, hopping up the kitchen stairs with a surprising spring in her step. So Jack took the opportunity to give the kitchen a once over, table and counter top cleared and wiped down, but he resolved to do the dishes later. By the time he finished and headed to the library, it was nearly ten o’clock and the others had gathered, primed for a full day of Dungeons & Dragons.

Jack took his usual seat across from Eileen, character sheet and dice set out in advance. He gave Charlie one furtive look and, when she caught him, smiled his sincerest smile.

“So we left off in Daggerford,” Charlie began, her steely stare slipping back to her book, “and you had just portaled into an alley. Let’s say you slept the night at an inn, reprovisioned, and traveled the next day to Delimbiyran. You’ve just arrived at the ruins…”

The sun’s amber rays angled between crumbling pillars of pale gray stone and the skeletal remains of collapsed walls lining the narrow streets of Delimbiyran. Fallen structures filled the city, street after street, like the killing fields of war. Comet drew it all in, consumed everything in his view and his jaw dropped. A forlorn sadness settled in his chest the longer he thought as they navigated the city’s decrepit warren-like avenues. Time’s relentless march had consumed all, even a most mighty kingdom like Phalorm. And though Delimbiyran had risen from the ashes, it had lasted but a century before falling to ruin much like its predecessor.

Downfall. History repeating itself. Time. Ouroboros. Serpents seeking serpents, seeking themselves. Comet scribbled the mental notes rapid-fire, quick as the images appeared in his mind’s eye. Lyre was the only suitable instrument for such a retelling. Lydian, romantics, dramatics, mournful sorrow turning the wheel of ages. Poetry would flow from his fingertips, his vocal chords, his entire being. And the world over would know Comet Shadowpool, The Bard, storyteller and songwriter, keeper of memory.

Memory. Memories can be distorted, he thought. They're just an interpretation, not a record. And they're irrelevant if you have the facts. Good thing for him he was living it. A ballad in the making.

A ballad for the ages.

If only he could concentrate.

The hushed whispers crossing between Mephisto and Ramilir three feet behind him invaded his visions, fanning them apart as though pesky smoke.

Comet rounded on them with a snort. “Do you two mind?”

Ramilir had the decency to at least appear chastised. Mephisto, however, scrunched his nose in offense. “Master Bard, are you not enthralled? We are walking through history’s graveyard. Hey… you could use that. ‘History’s graveyard’.”

Comet squinted at him, scrutinizing him out of the corner of his eye. Damned tieflings. “I could…”

Too proud of himself, Mephisto nodded with a crooked grin and walked on ahead. Ramilir clapped him on the shoulder as he, too, passed to join Mephisto. “Take a breath, Master Shadowpool. Live in the moment for once.”

“I am,” he said as he trotted along to catch up. “But I also need to eat, and to eat I need coin, and to earn coin, I have to tell stories, and to tell stories, I need to compose songs, and to compose songs, I need to—whoa!”

The world pitched violently, and Comet’s stomach plummeted as a great yawning void opened up at his feet. But Rawridan snatched him back from the edge of the chasm, loose rock crumbling down into the endless abyss beneath Comet’s boots.

“You need to pay attention to where you place your feet,” Rawridan said, setting him back down. He leaned over the edge with an arched brow and an impressed frown. “That’s quite a few stairs.”

The chasm spanned a quarter mile, the cylinder drilled straight down but for the spiraling stairs along its edge. The last rays of the day’s light angled across the entrance, swallowed by the darkness not fifty feet below the surface. Gaps dotted the staircase, time’s cruelty rearing its head once more, and Comet swallowed thickly. “Please tell me that’s not the Haven.”

Castiel pointed to the map. “The sigils match,” he said, then pointed to the same sigil on the far wall above the first arc of stairs. “I do believe this is the entrance.”

“The window,” Fechin declared. “The stained-glass window in Machil’s study. It was a spiral staircase.”

Ramilir pinched the bridge of his nose. “I must have recalled it from the Princess’s memory. But why? Why would she know this place?

Fechin shrugged as she started down. “I imagine we’ll find the answers inside.”

Rawridan followed her with Castiel in tow. When Comet regarded Ramilir and Mephisto, they gestured him ahead. So he descended the first steps, and his head spun, the world tilting sickeningly as the vault wall rose overhead. Within those first few steps, a weathered mosaic came into view depicting dwarves, elves, and humans working together to forge what he assumed to be the Realm of the Three Crowns. Images of the silver circlet, the adamantine crown, and the golden crown from Castiel’s dream repeated frequently in each scene.

A stone step crumbled beneath his feet and the world pitched once more. But Comet recovered as the rattling bones settled between his ears and he leaped ahead to the next step. Rawridan was right, though he would never admit it out loud. Concentrate. One step at a time.

He counted each once of them, only to lose track somewhere around six-hundred-fifty-three when the last of the sun’s light receded. Ahead, Rawridan drew Moonbeam and held it aloft, while Mephisto cast his warlock’s lantern at the rear, the purple flames adding an eerie glow to the milky white light of Rawridan’s sword. The stairs continued for what felt like hours, and by then, Comet had lost track of time as well. If it were possible, he would have walked and slept at the same time. For numerous reasons. The least of which was the dizzying void to his right.

But as that thought occurred to him, Moonbeam’s pale glow refracted, glinting off of a metal shaft and blinding Comet and the others. When he lowered his hand from eyes, thunder rolled in the distance, and he leaped into action. They had finally reached the bottom, and they were no longer alone. Four elves in lavishly layered robes flanked by four fomorians stood before the tall archway to the next room, impeding their passage.

Rapier drawn, Comet hopped to the ground and fanned out with Mephisto beside him. Fechin hugged the furthest shadows, and Castiel advanced with his pike and shield hefted. Rawridan shouted an instruction as he, too, shifted forward, but the tallest elf stepped forward and raised a hand. “The Queen of Air and Darkness wishes only to learn the status of your mission. We have no quarrel.”

Rawridan tightened his grip on Moonbeam and shook his head. “Shame.”

The regal elf lay down his staff. “You must destroy the book. Do you know how?”

It occurred to Comet then that he had not the faintest clue how they were to destroy the book. He turned back to the stairs where Ramilir had frozen ten steps from the bottom. All eyes locked on him, and Comet knew the second he opened his mouth, he lied.

“We… have an idea.”

The elf’s face flattened at that. “You must destroy it. If you do not by the morning, we will return and take care of it ourselves as we did with Master Ryllin.”

A distant rattle echoed in the back of his mind, like old bones clattering across the ground. “You killed Machil?!” Comet demanded.

The elf said no more and, instead, retrieved his staff. He motioned in a wide arc to his left where a portal formed, small but spiraling ever outward until the fomorians could stoop through.

“Dawn,” the master wizard repeated. “Do not doubt that we will find you again.”

And with that, he disappeared. The portal winked out in the next beat, and the entire group heaved a collective sigh. Ramilir joined them, crestfallen. “I am very sorry to have dragged you all into this.”

Rawridan snorted. “At this point in the adventure, my only objective is to end the curse. Just to prove those prissy elves wrong. Righteous ponces,” he growled as he stomped towards the door. “Dawn,” he continued, mocking the elf’s tone. “Take care of it ourselves—sure, and I could throw you further than you could ever hope to cast your stupid fireball. We’ll see who takes care of it.”

Comet snorted a laugh through his nose as he sheathed his rapier and followed. Castiel fell in step beside Rawridan, and together the group headed through the open archway on the opposite side of the room. Their moment’s respite lasted not another fifteen paces before blue flames ignited to either side of the arch, and Comet freed his sword in its scabbard. But Rawridan and Castiel had only just crossed the threshold, tripping some sort of spell. Ornate sconces flanking the archway bathed them all in an eerie blue glow and flickered silently.

Comet joined Castiel and Rawridan in the next room after a breath. Cracks laced the walls of the partially collapsed room, and rot covered the floor in a thick layer. Leather scraps, rusted metal, and insect husks mingled with stone debris. And their only way through, another large archway, was blocked by a massive pile of rubble.

“Intentional,” Rawridan said as he approached and kicked a stone over. Beneath it, he had unburied a thick wooden club, hefty, and the last two feet wrapped in metal links and spikes. He yanked it free of the rubble by the handle and examined it. “Ah, a Rat Stick. I used to have one when I was a child,” he mused. “You can take out quite a few rats in a single strike with one of these. More humane.” When he turned back to the others, he spotted their aghast faces, then pitched the weapon back into the heap. He cleared his throat, then asked, “I’m assuming this was Machil’s work?” as he pointed to the rubble.

Castiel shrugged. “Possibly. Not that it matters,” he said as he rolled up the map and tucked it in his belt. “We’ll have to clear it to get through.”

Comet sighed, making way for those better equipped to help. With his lute in his lap, he plucked quietly at the strings, composing his ballad while Rawridan, Castiel, Fechin, and Mephisto cleared the blockage. Between the four of them—brute strength, nimble fingers, and lofty brains combined—they had only come close to caving in the hallway once. Castiel had taken the brunt of the damage, but the worst of it had merely dented his breastplate. And his pride.

Within the hour, the way was clear enough for them to pass, and together they entered what Castiel deemed the dining hall. Blue flame ignited once more, illuminating the longer space with the same eerie blue glow. Though a layer of refuse and dead insects covered the floor, the furnishings remained intact. Four trestle tables, a side table set with what appeared to be cups, and two dozen chairs stood whole, covered in centuries of dust.

Comet wiped at the arm of a nearby chair with his sleeve revealing finely lacquered wood. But another inch revealed dry rot and he backed away, afraid the chair might crumble with any further disruption. He shuffled over to the side table and found two dozen tea cups encircling a tea urn, all coated in a vermilion glaze.

“Which way?”

He regarded Fechin then only to immediately find the source of her question. Three massive archways led out of the room. Over the archway to the west, the word CANDESCA had been carved into the stone.

“Hm,” Castiel mused as he produced the map once more. His hopeful frown faded. “It indicates nothing—”

“Watch it,” Rarwidan interjected as he darted past Castiel. “Bookworm fading fast.”

Indeed, Comet wheeled about just in time to watch Rawridan catch Ramilir as he fainted again. And just as he had back at the Ryllin estate, Ramilir’s eyes glazed over a ghastly white, and he spoke.

“Destroy him!” he gasped. “End the final visage of the quill-bearer, the queen’s evil pawn! He has cursed you and I alike. Put him down and I will be free to rid you of your curse!”

As quick as it had come, the moment passed and Ramilir’s color returned, cheeks flush and amber eyes blinking open. Rawridan put him back on his feet and dusted off his robes, not that he had even come close to touching the floor. Ramilir shook his head, fingertips rubbing his temples, then sighed but said nothing.

“Quill-bearer,” Comet mused. “Haven of the Red Quill.”

“Can’t be a coincidence,” Mephisto agreed, following his line of thought.

At first, the connection frayed, far too thin to weave a thread. But the longer he thought, the thicker the fiber spun. “Wait.” Comet pointed to Ramilir, gesturing to his robes. “Roll up your sleeves again.” Nonplussed, Ramilir did as directed, revealing the curse’s text. It had spread, much to Comet’s surprise, covering the backs of his hands. But something he and the others had all failed to notice earlier stood out so obviously then.

Red. The ink glowed a dark, ruby red.

“Humor me,” Comet began, but distant thunder from deep underground interrupted him. When the rumble faded to silence, he spoke. “What if Zyrian, the Scrivener, wrote the tale about the Princess, but then was forced to imprison her by the Queen?”

Ramilir’s eyes widened a fraction. “The book.” He withdrew it from his sling. “The Queen has been tracking us through the book.”

“To what end?” Castiel asked.

Rawridan gestured back toward the entrance. “We have encountered the Queen’s forces thrice. We have been threatened by them thrice. Methinks it is worth entertaining the Princess’s pleas for help.”

Fechin flicked her fingers once, then nodded. “Release her to rid Ramilir of his curse. Then she can deal with the Queen on her own. I have no interest in their quarrel.”

“Agreed,” Mephisto added. “If it frees Ramilir, then I am all for it.”

“But how?”

Comet turned back to Ramilir as did the others. The acolyte’s hopeful smile drooped. “How do we free her? She demanded we kill the quill-bearer. But we don’t even know how to destroy the book.”

The riddle plaguing them reared its ugly head once more, temporarily forgotten. Comet, too, had found himself growing too optimistic for his own good. A final piece of the puzzle hid just out of reach, out of sight, he knew. But where?

He scanned the dining room once more and stopped abruptly at the labeled archway.

CANDESCA.

“Candesca?”

Shadows shifted overhead and Comet arched his neck, hand ready at his pommel to draw his rapier. Each fiery blue orb stretched and separated from its sconce, gathering at the ceiling’s center in a large ball. It lumbered end over end, roiling and rolling towards the labeled archway, then descended to pass into the next room.

Plunged into darkness, Mephisto raised his hand full of his purple warlock’s light. “Candesca it is then,” he said as he strode through the group and into the archway.

Gurgling growls interrupted Sam’s action, and Jack laughed as he rubbed his stomach. “I think I forgot to eat again.”

“I’ve got an idea for lunch,” Dean said as he stood, immediately heading towards the war room. “C’mon, kid.”

Before he stood, Charlie begged off for her room, claiming to have forgotten something she required for the campaign. Sam and Eileen watched her go, half standing from their chairs. Jack suspected one of them to follow her, but when neither did, he leaned over to Castiel and asked, “What just happened?”

Castiel sighed as he stood. “I’ve already forgotten.”

“But you saw her—” And just like that, Jack, too, had forgotten. What could be powerful enough to cause God to forget? Then again, he had given up a part of his power. Maybe the other shoe was finally dropping.

He stood then and followed Castiel into the war room, Sam and Eileen right behind him. “I don’t like this. I might have sworn off interfering, but I did not intend to completely blind myself.”

“I doubt you did,” Castiel agreed. “Something is definitely wrong. Sam and Eileen have noticed. Dean, too. Charlie is acting strange but we’re all unable to explain how. I’m sure we’ll eventually get to the bottom of it. Maybe Charlie will on her own. With her research.”

They arrived at the kitchen as Dean set out a tray of multi-layered sandwiches on the island counter. Jack’s appetite churned once more in his stomach. No amount of omnipotence had staved off human hunger. But before he could take another step, Charlie entered from the opposite door.

“Oh great, sandwiches,” she quipped. “Let’s get back to the table and eat while we play.”

With that, she darted back through the door without giving anyone a chance to respond. Dean shrugged, nonplussed, and grabbed the platter with both hands.

“Grab the beers, Sam. I think we’re gonna need ‘em.”

This series is complete! Reblogs are loved and feedback is welcome!

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