#i stopped for a while after i got burnt out on iron maiden

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

the way russ explains things, i swear

this is another way he reminds me so much of bruce dickinson sometimes, they both have that thing where they can explain things in a way that literally anybody could understand it

bruce with planes for example, when i hear him talk about them, he makes me feel like i've been a plane mechanic for 60 years despite knowing nothing about planes besides what he's saying(and i have not been alive for 60 years)

russ is the same, not about planes, but just the way he words things. things about life and his perspective on things. they're both so smart in similar ways and they both have that same drive in doing what they want to do. they both have an amazing outlook on life. the love for music. the love for the fans. just beautiful people all around.

[toomanythoughts2]

Here's some miscellaneous Metalocalypse headcanons. I'm gonna put them here just to get them down.

Skwisgaar has flat feet, which will result in leg problems later in his life.

Toki has nerve damage to his back and he can't feel it in places. He has to go to massage therapy for it every week so it doesn't get too bad.

Murderface has long hair, his fro is just so dense. It's as long as Skiwsgaar's hair.

Stella Murderface is William Murderface's paternal grandmother, so his mother is Stella's Daughter-In-Law and his father is their biological son. Murderface's looks skipped his father, so his father and his mother were average looking individuals. The idea that Murderface's looks were the catalysis for his father's mental break were probably intensified because of the paternal skip.

Murderface's mom was very excited for William's birth. She spent a long time getting ready for his arrival. William was a wanted, planned child, whose mother was fully encapsulated in being a good mom. She took so many photos of her pregnancy and had a baby book prepared. Mama Murderface was fully ready to be a mom. When William was born, she fell in love with him. William is probably less than a year when they died, but more than 4 months. Up until their death, his mom obsessed over him, loved him, cared for him. There are so many baby photos of him up until their death, and his baby book ends at the same age of when they died.

Murderface has multiple photos of his mother tucked safely in his room. He looks at them when he's feeling particularly sad and lost. He'll look back over the home movies she took, listen to her voice, listen to how much she loved him and how she was waiting for him. He blocks out his father in the video as much as he can. He hates him more than he hates himself.

Toki has a hobby grave yard. However, he is not afraid of any hobby and will at least become competent in them.

Pickles still doesn't really understand the internet. He's got the concept but it alludes him for the most part.

Toki's family is actually the black sheep of the majority of the family and Toki is the black sheep within the black sheep.

Toki was on his way to becoming the next Reverend after Aslaug, but the family at large was very wary of this possible development. They avoided Toki at all cost due to his presence with death and his possible future position in the family.

Everyone has neck pain from head banging and windmilling, so they have physical therapy on their necks to keep them strong and to stop any further deterioration.

Nathan has back pain. Like really bad back pain. Him and his father, since they are larger men, have consistent back issues that make it hard to stand for long hours.

Rose is Nathan's biggest supporter. She co-signed on the apartment, she helped get him his first van, she helped pick out stage clothes, she painted his nails. He would read his lyrics out to her (and his dad) at the dinner table and she would help him with lyrics and support his direction. Rose knew that Nathan's life was not leading him to college, but to something else, and she fully believed that he could do anything he set his mind to.

Skwisgaar is double jointed and can pop and crack his knuckles. Murderface and Pickles DESPISE it.

While there are many "Deaddy Bears", there is only one true, original Deaddy Bear. It's the one that got burnt up in "Dethkids" but it came back afterwards. Why? BECAUSE IT'S POSSESSED! ITS A POSSESSED DEADDY BEAR KINDA LIKE THE VELVETEEN RABBIT! TOKI MADE IT BE ALIVE WITH HIS LOVE AND THE TRUAMA! TOKI NEVER QUESTIONS IT AND THE BAND IS VERY WORRIED ABOUT IT!

Murderface has gotten himself stuck in the Iron Maiden before.

There's a lot more wholesome/domestic moments within the band dynamic than their fans or even the label knows about. It's regular shit, like a routine they have worked out with themselves about how to live with each other without going crazy.

They do the "Do you want my broccoli?" "I can take your rice." "Here, take the pepper, I dont want it." kind of switch with their food when they go out. It's just a choirs of plate scraps from one plate to another.

[penguinkinggames]

“Cerebos: The Crystal City” Actual Play Part I: Introductions

This is the first in a series of posts recounting a session of actual play from Cerebos: the Crystal City, currently crowdfunding on Kickstarter. If you’ve been wondering what on Earth players actually do in a game of Cerebos, read on!

This session was conducted on March 20th, 2021, with Matthew Dorbin as GM, and Amelia Gorman, Ashley Flanagan, Will Mendoza, and Kevin Snow playing. The events of play were recorded by Zach Welhouse.

Preamble

For this session of Cerebos, the GM volunteered to run a session with the Adventure! Conductor. The conductor’s Atlas Obscura power invites the players and GM to work collaboratively to create a Stops table unique to their journey. They exchanged a few ideas over e-mail, which the GM codified. He added this new Stops table, which was heavy on the hells, to five other Stop tables to create an Atlas. Then he selected six Event tables to create an Almanac.

Everybody met in Discord and talked about unrelated matters for a bit. Then it was time to introduce characters. Each character clings to three touchstones: objects that represented their past in the City by the Sea. Each touchstone has a single Trait.

Dramatis Personae

Tinderling. A woman who looks like a burnt match.

Iron rail spike (Odd Jobs)

A single match (Burns at Both Ends)

Bird bone sewing needle (Piercing Insight)

The Unqualified Robot. A mechanical figure with a light projection screen for a head. It indicates expression by placing a large slide with the image of an emotion on the screen.

Expression slides (Toxic Positivity)

Backpack of unsold gadgets (Abandoned Junk)

Flask of motor oil (Guzzlin’)

The Lady in Blue. A woman who is as regal as she is soot-stained: exceedingly.

Gun with a single bullet (Single-Minded)

Feathered hat (Life of Luxury)

Burned handbag (Lost Sister)

The Lonesome Seafarer. A sea captain far from shore.

Patchwork coat (Coat of Theseus) (“I like it because it’s vague and we’ll find out what it means during play.”) 

Blue tricorner hat (Air of Authority)

Spyglass with broken lens (Grizzled Survivor)

Some players came to the table with their whole starting concept, while others were less certain about their starting Traits. Everyone helped brainstorm starting Traits for the players who were less certain. This early riffing was the first sign of the collaboration to come. 

One player noticed they gravitated toward useless items or objects of purely sentimental value. The travelers themselves were quite worn, so we were already establishing a contemplative mood. These were travelers who had been beaten down by the world, but hadn’t given up yet. Their stories would be ones of struggle and inspirational determination or grim warnings about challenging forces larger than themselves.

Goals

Based on these introductions, each player determined why another traveler was headed to Cerebos. They shared the goals with the GM over DMs, so no one knew why their traveler was on the road. The truth revealed itself over time through flashbacks

Tinderling: Her newly unionized shop got shut down by union busters. She’s looking for a place with less draconian labor laws.  

The Unqualified Robot: Cerebos is home to a famous scientist who specializes in reprogramming obsolete robots for new jobs.  

The Lady in Blue: The Lady in Blue's sister, the Lady in Red is a criminal ringleader in Cerebos. The Lady in Blue aims to kill her and take over her crime empire.  

The Lonesome Seafarer: The Lonesome Seafarer is looking for someone lost at sea, and old rival/loved one who was believed to have perished but was seen alive in the City by someone the Seafarer trusts. They have something they want to ask them.

Based on their answers to the GM’s initial questions, the players were interested in telling a story about labor, power, and human connections.

For example, the GM asked the players if they intended to pay for passage on the train. One player suggested they might have company scrip from Tinderling's employers. The GM asked if the company had a name, at which point Inferno Heavy Industries was born. It had just opened its newest station for business, to (according to the fresh posters) was "bringing luxury to a land with so little of value".

The Journey Begins

When the travelers arrive, workmen are still unloading plants and doing their best to landscape the surrounding wasteland. The local ecosystem will probably recover. Tinderling notices a panhandler passing among the large crowds, who she recognizes as a scab from the City by the Sea.

The train still has that new train smell. It has fancy cushions and a conductor who’s knowledgeable and friendly, but not pushy. Only the best for the engine’s maiden voyage!

The Lonesome Seafarer follows the automated snack cart from car to car, loading up on the bounty of the rails. The Unqualified Robot, never having been on a train before (presumably), keeps getting in the way until Tinderling recognizes a proletariat in need and guides it to a seat. The Unqualified Robot slides a winking face into its project slot, gladdened by the kindness.

The train sets off and the GM rolls for an Event in the Almanac. The train plows through the desert, passing through a region of low hills and hexagonal pits that seep gas into the air. Plague doctors patrol the perimeter, keeping pit owls from approaching the train. 

This terrain is a Danger 3 Event. If the Danger level (that is, the total Danger of all active Events) is 4 or greater by the time the train reaches a Stop, the Stop will be especially dangerous. If the Event’s individual Danger is reduced to 0, one of the travelers will receive a keepsake of the encounter.

At this point, everybody takes an action with comments, suggestions, and general role-playing filling the space in between.

First Round of Train Actions

Tinderling is familiar with gas from mines and factories. It may be dangerous! She suggests people put on wet masks. She takes the Engage Event action and rolls a Success to lower the danger to 2. Several passengers see the wisdom of this advice and mask up.  

The Lady in Blue shares a story with whoever’s sitting next to her (it doesn’t matter, really) about the importance of staying calm and composed during times of danger. Take it easy, eat a little food. It will all work out. She uses the conductor’s Easy Confidence Train Action to understand Tinderling. Just a little. She gains a bonus to the next time they work together.  

The Lonesome Seafarer believes the unruly owls to be a problem. She shouts out the window and waves her hat at them: “Hey! Owls! Listen to those plague doctors! They have good medical advice!” Another Success. The Event’s danger lowers to 1.  

The Unqualified Robot, shocked by all the action, takes the Lady in Blue’s advice. It tries creating a meal from the snack cart, mashing snacks against its face until it’s a custardy mess. The Lady in Blue offers a napkin and they talk through the comedy of manners. Next, the Robot tries its flask. Empty. The Lady in Blue suggests whiskey for the both of them. They both Share a Meal and earn a keepsake: a tasty beverage that provides a one-time reroll of a 1 or 2.

The first round of Train Actions has ended. The train speeds on into the evening. A few owls follow, hovering just out of reach.

Second Round of Train Actions

Tinderling asks the Lonesome Seafarer about her spyglass. The Seafarer has a flashback to a terrible sea battle against a kraken. She orders her crew to battle stations!   Second mate Scurvy doubts her, shouting, “Are you mad, captain? We can’t fight this!” The captain disagrees, jumping into action and fighting back the kraken almost single-handedly, saving the topsman from a tentacle that may very well be an arm. After the battle, Scurvy is nowhere to be found.   During this flashback, Tinderling set up most of the action, while the Lonesome Seafarer filled in with her actions. Everyone else offered suggestions, commentary, jokes, and bit parts like sailors screaming in terror. Everybody spitballs ideas about what this scene reveals about the Lonesome Seafarer and agrees: the spyglass gains two ranks of the Tunnel Vision trait.  

The Unqualified Robot sees passengers all around it talking, and emulates them by asking the Lady in Blue a nice, innocent question about the gun she’s carrying. It seems like a safe conversation opener, but draws her into a flashback!   The Lady in Blue is playing cards in a seedy tavern. One hand is on her gun, which she’s holding under the table and pointing at her opponent. It’s a game of chance, but the Lady in Blue is exuberantly talking about her masterful strategy. Her opponent throws his hands in the air in disgust, knocking over several drinks. He goes to pick his mug off the ground, narrowly missing as the Lady in Blue passes her gun off to an accomplice who walks past. Her name isn’t Margaret and the Lady in Blue’s name isn’t Angela, but that’s how they refer to one another.   The Lady in Blue’s player had no idea how this game would turn out while it was happening. The accomplice was probably the lost sister alluded to in her Lost Sister trait, but only future flashbacks would tell. Everyone talks about what they learned about the Lady in Blue, and her gun gains two ranks of the Nick of Time trait.

At this point in the journey, two flashbacks have flashed back. The GM rolls on the Almanac for an Event, prompting an announcement from the conductor: “Hello passengers. It’s rare for a train to get lost, but we have.”

Inferno Heavy Industries hired several competing rail gangs for its line, leading to a labyrinthine snarl of tracks. Worse, the turbulence woke a swarm of chandler beetles that had been roosting in the overhead bins. Their waxy secretions have a way of ruining any train ride or picnic, most immediately threatening the Lady in Blue’s sippin’ whiskey. This is a Danger 3 event, which raises the Danger level on the train to 4.

The second round of train actions then continues:

The Lonesome Seafarer continues her conversation with Tinderling, ignoring the beetles for the time being, prompting a flashback. Encouraged by the Lonesome Seafarer’s tale of adversity, Tinderling recalls a time she had to stitch up a friend in the mines with her bird bone sewing needle. Inferno Heavy Industries at fault. That’s when she got the idea to blow up the mine and let those hateful ghouls know their workers had dignity.   Everyone decides the bird bone sewing needle gains two ranks of A Rough Patch.  

The Lady in Blue decides needs must. She sacrifices her hat to scoop up the chandler beetles that are threatening her drink. It’s a snap decision that she instantly regrets. That hat was a link to who she used to be, and possibly who she would like to continue being. It was an exclusive. A very nice hat.   The Lady in Blue rolls an 8 on her roll to release a touchstone. It’s an Ugly Break, so one of her other touchstones gains one Momentum. Even though her luxurious hat has been tainted by insects, she still has her fancy bag.   On the bright side, she gains one Contemplation for taking a step away from her all-controlling past. She doesn’t know much about who she is or who she wants to be, but her hat and the memories connected to it certainly aren’t going to hold her back.

The second round of train actions has now concluded! The Danger level is still 4.

Third Round of Train Actions

Tinderling finishes her conversation with the Lonesome Seafarer and looks across the car to the Unqualified Robot. It’s sipping whiskey from its refilled flask, watching the Lady in Blue go after the beetles with her hat.   Tinderling notices the flask looks like an oil can. The Unqualified Robot notices it’s being watched and becomes self-conscious.   It thinks back to when it liberated the oil can from an Inferno Heavy Industries factory. It was scrounging for oil, always finding just enough to keep it going. Even though the factory was out of commission, automated guards were still protecting its assets. The guards were large and dystopian, while the Unqualified Robot was small and scrappy. It scraped oil off the silent factory machinery with a tiny spoon. It listened to messages on the foreman’s answering machine. The electricity bill is due in three days. The Robot dutifully writes down the messages from the answering machine and takes a sip of oil.   Everyone agrees the Unqualified Robot’s story is going to go some dark places. The oil can flask gains two ranks of Drowning Sorrows.

Two more flashbacks have occurred, so the GM rolls for another Event. The players recognize the Danger is adding up, but are cavalier about it. “How bad can it be?” That’s how they get ants. Ants that are crossing the tracks in a line that stretches to the horizon. They’re carrying the components to build a death ray. Components that look suspiciously similar to the inner workings of a robot. The Event’s Danger is 1; the train’s overall Danger is 5.

The third round of train actions continues:

The Unqualified Robot Engages the Event. The ants know Morse code, as does the Robot so communication is not a problem. Understanding is more difficult. The Robot slides a diplomatic slide onto its projector screen and solemnly taps out, “Please don’t build a death ray with the components of robots. They are living creatures, demanding of dignity.” It rolls a 1 and a 2. A Setback.   The Robot takes a long pull from its whiskey, using the meal keepsake to reroll the 1. Its new results are a 2 and a 2, which is still a Setback. Worse, it’s rolled doubles. If the Robot chooses not to reroll at this point, it’ll gain a point of Momentum in addition to the penalty from the Setback. However, it still has several Traits it could use.   The Unqualified Robot decides a Setback makes more sense. It receives one Damage and gains a point of Momentum to its face plates. Everyone shares a good-natured laugh at how unlucky the robot is and how it will receive a Bad End at this rate.  

The Lady in Blue feels a looming sense of dread and takes a Stop the Train Action. The conductor cheerfully reminds everyone that due to paperwork they signed when purchasing their tickets, the train will be making a brief, unscheduled stop to investigate several findings of industrial importance. Naturally, the NDA also applies.  

Ordinarily, after calling for a Stop, any travelers who have yet to take their train action for the round would receive the opportunity to do so before the train pulls into the station; however, in the group’s eagerness to get away from the assorted owls and insects, the Lonesome Seafarer’s turn was accidentally skipped!

The First Stop

Inferno Heavy Industries scientists unload delicate instruments and set up camp. This is a burial ground, but the skeletons interred in the sands have beards and wigs made of precious metals. If they could determine how to extract metal from living bone, profits would be sure to follow.

In normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be an especially dangerous Stop. However, the travelers let the Event Danger pile up. The last remaining owls have lost interest and the conductor deals with the chandler beetles, but bad karma and the ants remain -- and they’ve decided to complement their death ray with silver and gold, both fine conductors..

In fact, the silver and gold threads are so conducive that several of the skeletons spring to unlife, animated by the scientist’s tools. They give of sparks and judder through the sands, inconveniencing scientists, passengers, and ants alike. Passengers watch the train in shifts, keeping the electric dead at bay with long poles.

The Stop has Danger 5. Since it’s so high, the travelers are unable to rest and take in the sights. Moreover, they’ll need to be very lucky if they want to leave with a fond keepsake or without suffering Damage. The train will remain for one round of Stop Actions. Tune in next time to find out how the travelers fare!

[crue-sixx]

Cleaning House

Title: Cleaning House

Author: tiddly-winx

Fandom: The Dirt

Summary:  After seeing the shit hole your friends live in, you take it upon yourself to make sure they clean up.

Warnings: Swearing and sexual references, the normal horrors that come with deep cleaning a house.

You needed help, and simply asking your friends to clean their apartment wasn't getting anywhere.  You had begged them to clean it, but when they DEMANDED you clean it because you were a female that was the final straw.  You didn't live there, and you wouldn't touch that mess with a ten foot pole.  So you took one of the things they couldn't live without-the ability to fuck.

You waited until the three were so hammered that when they finally passed out they wouldn't feel anything.  Mick helped you do it, because he thought it would be hilarious.  The male chastity belt is designed as such-it looks like armor for the penis, only having the ability to allow the wearer to take a leak since it was the only thing that penises needed to do to rid the body of urine.  It had a lock on it, needing a key to be opened and set free.  Standard ones could be broken off if one applied pressure, but the model you ordered in triplicate of was the Iron Maiden, where small spikes on the inside would scratch up the flesh if tampered with.

You didn't need one for Mick since he didn't regularly live there, but three grown men were more than capable of cleaning after themselves.  You prepared the cleaning supplies for them, that much you would do and you'd instruct them on how to clean if they didn't know how.

Tommy woke up first and walked into the living room asking "Why does my dick feel so heavy?"

You and Mick laughed, him begging you to let him watch the spectacle.  He'd promised you half of his cut of the record deal if they ever got one, and you accepted his offer.  "Take a look and see for yourself" you prompted.  He dropped his pants and stared at the penis armor around his member.  Then you heard a soft whine from Nikki's room-him having the big room to himself while Tommy and Vince shared the smaller room.

Just like every time he woke up, Nikki had his morning wood. This time it hurt like never before, and the feel of light metal in his hand where his skin should have been prompted him to throw back the sheets to discover his own dick shield.  "The fuck is this?!" he stomped out of his room, no pants on and butt cheeks flapping in the wind.

Vince was still too fucked up to notice when he got up to take his morning piss, but the lustrous shine from the metal caught his eye.  He thought he gotten so drunk last night that he got himself a dick piercing but on further inspection he noticed the metal shell with the tiny lock on the bottom.  He came storming out of the bathroom, was surprised to see his two roommates in the same predicament.  They all looked to you for an answer.

"Here's the deal boys" you crossed your legs "I have the keys right here" you dangled the tiny keys to the belts in front of them.  "Until this fucking apartment is spotless, you will not be able to screw or even get hard.  The only thing you will be able to do with your dicks is take a piss" Mick couldn't stop laughing the whole time.

"What the actual fuck Y/N?!" Nikki yelled, believing every word you said, because it was actually true.

"Why didn't Mick get one?!" Vince whined like a spoiled child.

"Because he doesn't live here, so it's not his job to clean up after you, nor is it mine" Tommy went to the phone but saw the chord was cut so he couldn't call anyone  "Don't even think about calling your mothers or sisters to come clean for you.  If you do, I will swallow these damn keys and you wont be able to fuck again!"

They all glared at you and reluctantly picked up the cleaning supplies and began to work.  Vince was in the bathroom cleaning the toilet and shower, soon hearing gagging sounds.  Tommy was cleaning out the oven, where a cornucopia of burnt corpses of cockroaches fell out.  He too started gagging, taking the broom and getting all the way in the back.  Nikki had elected himself to take out the trash, still naked from the waist down.  "Put your fuckin' pants on Sixx!  There's kids out there!"

He defiantly flipped the bird and said "NO!" dragging bag after bag to the dumpster.  Now instead of notices of health code violations for having numerous trash bags on the balcony, Nikki had a notice for pubic indecency on his record if the police were called on him.  You had the perfect punishment for him-the drain snake.  When he got back after his last bag, you put the snake in his hand and told him to fish the hair from the shower drain.  You made Tommy and Vince watch him do this, the slimy strands of black and blonde hair being slowly pulled out.  They all turned green at the sight and threw up a little.  You could have gotten Drain-O, but this was much more effective for your long term goal.

"Scrub those nasty dishes" you pointed to the sink full of crusty plates and silverware.  You didn't care who did it, but you wanted it done.  All three tackled them, figuring that if they all worked together they'd get done faster and they'd be able to have sex again. Nikki scrubbed, Tommy dried and Vince put them away.  Like an angry assembly line.  They were thinking of ways to get back at you in their heads.

"Good boys" you praised approvingly "Now all that's left to do is shampoo the carpet and couch, clean the walls and floors!"  There wasn't much they could do about the burns on the floor and walls from torching cockroaches, but you could at least get the smell of piss, booze and blood.  They all groaned and got the scrub brushes to clean the carpet and couch.  Nikki wiped down the dinner table and chairs, sweeping and hitting the linoleum part of the floor with bleach.

You opened all the windows and doors to let the place air out, not wanting the chemicals to cause damage to anyone.  With the apartment looking and smelling better than what they came into you were satisfied.  You motioned for them to come to you and took off their chastity belts.  This was much easier than expected, and just in time too.  The knock on the door was opened to Tommy and Vince's moms.

"What are you ladies doing here?" Tommy hugged them both, then Vince and Nikki.

"Don't you remember?" Mrs. Wharton asked "It's Mother's Day!  Y/N invited us to have a nice dinner over here!" she said cheerfully.

Both Tommy and Vince shot silent daggers at you, while Nikki looked relieved when he didn't see his own mother in the group.  Mick and your mother had long since died, you were siblings and every bit as spiteful as he was.  You never saw his band mates as anything more than friends, staving off their advances expertly.  You cared about them like little brothers, fussing about bumps and bruises all the way to scolding them in times they did stupid shit and consoling them them they didn't feel too hot.

You knew that they'd forget about Mother's Day and you needed to take drastic measures.  You did what you had to do, and during the dinner you had ordered from a nice restaurant, the moms complimented on the cleanliness and how surprised they were that their boys had cleaned their living area all by themselves.  "They're more responsible than you give them credit for" you suggested.

After the moms had left, they all turned to you and said "Thanks for that..."

"No problem" you answered "but you need to learn how to do this shit on your own.  It's not really about 'woman's work' but basic life skills" you looked at them expectantly.

"Will you teach us?" Nikki asked, seriously.

"Of course" you smiled, giving Mick a satisfied grin.

Later on in the little house you shared with Mick, he mused "Should we tell them those dick cages could just be snapped off without the keys?"

The chastity belts did have a feature that allowed easy removal in case of emergencies, but you left out that small detail.  "Yes, we should" you agreed.

"Are we?" he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Hell no" you laughed "those things strike fear in their eyes at the prospect of not being able to get it up are fuckin' gold mines!"

"You're such a devious villain" your brother complemented, giving you a fist bump.

"I grew up watching you and our other brothers" you laughed with him.

"You just wanted to see their dicks, didn't you?" he called you out on your behavior.

"That was just a fringe benefit" you agreed.

"Whore" he lovingly teased you, the both of you knowing full well he didn't mean it.

"Asshole" you retorted.  This was the way you and Mick always were as siblings and this is the way you always would be.

[razieltwelve]

Shrine Maiden (RWBY AU Snippet)

The Shrine of the Radiant Dragon was one of the oldest dragon shrines in the world, and the shrine maiden who presided over it was revered throughout the world for her connection to the legendary beast that dwelt in the towering mountains around the shrine. People would come from far and wide to seek her counsel or to beseech her aid in earning the dragon’s favour. Yet she only ever deigned to help a few of them. 

The dragon was not a weapon of war to be used in the petty squabbles of mortal kings, nor was the shrine maiden easily bribed with worldly treasures. Instead, the dragon and her maiden were there to watch over the world, intervening only when necessary.

X     X     X

“Get up you lazy, overgrown lizard! We’re supposed to save a kingdom today,” Blake growled, giving the massive golden dragon slouching on the mountainside a stout kick. All that accomplished was stubbing her toe, and she clutched at her foot in agony as the gigantic reptile laughed at her misfortune. “Stop laughing.”

The dragon stopped laughing and looked her right in the eye before laughing some more.

“I will hit you.” Blake raised the broom she used to sweep the shrine’s steps high above her head. “Don’t think I won’t.”

The dragon stared at her and then beckoned her forward as if ordering her to do her worst. Blake obliged the dragon and gave her a mighty whack over the head. She was lucky the broom didn’t break. The scowl that crossed her lips only added to the dragon’s mirth.

“You know, there’s a reason you’ve gone through so many shrine maidens before me. It’s not just because dragons live so long, it’s because you’re impossible to deal with.” Blake huffed. “And don’t even get me started on what you did to that poor princess from Atlas yesterday.”

The dragon chortled.

“You threatened to eat her, Yang!” Blake jabbed one finger into the dragon’s scales and winced. It was like poking a slab of iron. “She was convinced she was going to die.”

The dragon rose up onto her haunches. What can I say? She looked tasty. Besides, it’s not like I’d actually eat her. Ruby would be mad.

Blake threw her hands up in the air. “I still don’t understand why your sister is so obsessed with cookies. What kind of dragon even eats cookies? Where did she even get some?”

We weren’t always so big. Yang chuckled. The dragon’s golden scales shimmered in the morning sun. I remember when we were little hatchlings, only a few feet long. Ruby stole some from a bakery, and she liked them. It’s gotten a little harder for her to find cookies big enough over the years, but she makes do.

“She has basically enslaved an entire kingdom to ensure she has a steady supply of baked goods.”

It’s not all bad. She does smite their enemies and devour those who would threaten them, so it’s not like they’re getting nothing out of the deal. Yang flexed her wings, and the sudden gale would have blown Blake off the mountain if she hadn’t reached out to catch her in one claw. Besides, people always get suspicious if you offer to help them for free. They’re more likely to trust you if you ask for something in return.

“Is that why you asked for your own weight in gold when the ambassador from Mistral showed up last week? Do you have any idea how much you weigh, Yang?”

I’m a growing dragon. Yang snickered and bared her teeth. Relax. They’ve got at least another month before those drakes become a problem. I’ll go help them out, and I’ll only ask for the world’s cutest cat in exchange.

“What would you even do with a cat?” Blake asked.

It’ll be funny watching them freak out while they try to find it… which they won’t. Plus, I can then demand enough gold and silver to keep the shrine going for a dozen more of your lifetimes. I could even have a statue put in… maybe in platinum. I think I’d look good in platinum.

“Oh?”

Yang gave Blake what passed for a winning smile amongst dragons. Alas, it came off as fairly terrifying since it showed off her exceedingly large and exceedingly sharp teeth. After all, Yang was five hundred feet long. She could have swallowed a wagon whole without breaking a sweat.

“Yang, that smile is why people are terrified of you.” Blake sighed. “But enlighten me. Why won’t they find the world’s cutest cat?”

Because I’ve already got her. Yang waggled what passed for eyebrows amongst her kind. Get it?

Blake kicked Yang with her other foot and cursed. Now, she had stubbed toes on both feet!

Heh. Don’t worry. We can go fishing once we’re done saving the kingdom. I’m sure we can catch plenty of tuna.

X     X     X

Meanwhile…

“Oh, Great Crimson Terror of the Skies! We beseech you, strike down our foes and lay waste their cities!”

Ruby yawned and waved one enormous claw in the general direction of the petitioner. It’s the middle of the night. I’m trying to sleep. Come back in the morning.

The petitioner paused. “Great Crimson Terror of the Skies! Our enemies have raided our border territories and burnt a dozen bakeries! Some of our finest bakers have been captured, and others have been put to the sword!”

Ruby sat up. Her silver eyes blazed, and fire kindled in her jaws. What was that?

The petitioner flinched at being the sudden object of her attention. “Uh… they kidnapped some bakers and killed some others.”

Where? Ruby sat up. Her wings flared majestically, casting the land into shadow as they blotted out the moon. Who dares harm my bakers?

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Yang and Ruby have slightly different approaches to life as a dragon. Yang has set herself up as benevolent force for good… who demands treasure or else plays pranks, depending on what her mood is. She also has a shrine maiden, Blake, who is very busy.

Ruby, meanwhile, has appointed herself the protector of the kingdom with the best cookie-makers in the world. In exchange for huge quantities of baked goods, she will keep them safe and slaughter their enemies. It’s not a bad life for her, actually. And Weiss, who really doesn’t want to have to resort to throwing a cookie-addicted dragon at her problems, has decided to ask that dragon’s sister for help. Hmm… no wonder it didn’t work.

You can find me on fanfiction.net, AO3, and Amazon. You can also find my thoughts on writing, education, and other subjects at my blog.

[gwaciechang]

Stars, Hide Your Fires (1/5)

“Roll away your stone I will roll away mine Together we can see what we will find Don’t leave me alone at this time For I am afraid of what I will discover inside”

There’s dubcon kissing and touching in this because Dixie’s a prostitute and Laurie doesn’t actually want to sleep with him when they pay him. Specifically, when the elevator door closes, and after they’ve eaten pasta.

I’ve never hired a sex worker before, so I don’t know whether the prices here are correct or not. I’ve also never actually watched Murder on the Home Front, just gifs, nor do I actually want to, so if somebody could link me to a compilation of just Dixie’s scenes, that’d be great.

If you want to be tagged in future installments for this, please let me know by either commenting or replying to it. Thanks!

Somewhere, a person falls from an iron maiden into the arms of a scared stage manager. Elsewhere, a person is driving the man they don’t know they’ve married to a methadone clinic. And in a different place entirely, someone is playing guitar to their neighbor.

Meanwhile, you’re taking a garbage bag full of moldy cakes to the dumpster.

“You going to be okay?” Shelley asks.

“It’s five steps from the door, what's going to happen? The cakes become sentient and try to eat me back?” you offer him your most reassuring smile. “Go home, Shelley. Let me close up today.”

“Drive safe,” Shelley says as he walks to his car. You have no doubt that he’s actually going to sit in his car until he sees you leave. Well, this shouldn’t take you more than five minutes.

It does, because you almost step on a person about to go down on someone.

You let out a little shriek, which makes the man look up. You forgive him immediately, because he’s really, really attractive. He’s not really dressed for the night chill, and you can see suppressed shivers. The warmest thing on him is the old-fashioned cap you think you’ve seen in a museum somewhere, beneath which shone perceptive eyes in a sharp, elfin face.

“Hey!” you croak out. “Not here!”

“I paid good money for this,” the woman above him snarls

You hold your ground. “I don’t care, you still can’t fuck at the back of this restaurant. Just be glad my manager isn’t the one who caught you.”

The woman opens her mouth to yell at you, but the man in the old-timey hat gives you both a swollen-lipped, charming smile. “I won’t charge you while we find better accommodations,” he runs a finger down her cheek.

“Alright, dearest,” the woman smiles back cloyingly, and then they’re gone. You breathe a sigh of relief as you go inside and hang up your apron.

The day had been terrible. One of the cooks had burned a steak that Shelley had to remake while trying to keep them from crying. A waitress had spilled watermelon juice on a customer, so then Shelley had to sweet-talk them from yelling at her. And that brought you to now, hours and possibly days after someone had knocked the plug for the dessert freezer, turning all the cakes moldy. You end up having to take another fifteen minutes to drop all the cakes into the dumpster, mourning the time the newbie baker spent making them, and ignoring the grunts coming from far too closely.

By the time you finally get to your car, even Shelley has clearly decided to leave, but the man in the old-timey hat is still in the street corner, leaning against the wall of the building that always smells like burning chemicals of some sort. You walk up to him, intending to thank him for saving your ass earlier.

He looks you up and down before licking his lips lasciviously. “Looking for a good time?” he walks closer.

You're not stupid, you know prostitutes frequent this area, but it’s never been your business. Everybody has to make money, and as long as nobody gets hurt-

And now he’s close enough that you can see the swelling around his eye. You have to squint to see the bruise, meaning it’s been covered up by a practiced hand.

“Who hurt you?” you step closer to him.

“No one,” his smile doesn’t fade, but he visibly tenses.

“Then who punched you in the face?” god, you need to stop being as frank as your roommate. Blunt might serve Alex well, but you’re not a journalist, you’re waitstaff. “Never mind, what’s your name?”

“Matt,” he lies.

“Okay, ‘Matt,’ How much do you charge?”

Just like that, the Cheshire grin is back. “A hundred an hour, double if you want to do weird shit.” He looks you up and down again, slower this time, deliberate, like he’s undressing you. “But for you, I think we could negotiate.”

“How much for a whole night?”

“Matt” scoffs, “No offense, but I don’t think you can afford a whole night.”

You think about how much food you have left in your apartment, how long it’s been since Alex has had an article, how there’s the outline of another bruise below “Matt’s” collar, and your mind’s made up. “How much?”

“Matt” looks surprised, and it takes a while for the smile to return. “Five hundred,” he says finally, “half up front, half in the morning.”

“I’m guessing you need it in cash?” your last roommate was a meth addict, you learned how this works. “I have to hit the ATM. My car’s this way,” you wave him along.

“Wow, hot, rich, and smart,” he falls into step with you. “You’re going to be fun.”

You blush, even though you know it’s his job to pretend to be attracted to people. “Not rich, just financially savvy.”

“Except when you hire a prostitute for the whole night,” “Matt” points out.

“You’ve got a point,” you shake your head at yourself.

The moment the elevator doors close, “Matt” gets into your space, pushing you up against the wall and sliding a hand down to squeeze your ass.

You push him off you with a yelp. “What the hell?”

“It’s what you’re paying for, gorgeous,” his whisper is hot, but his lips and hands are cold. “Calm down, let me take care of you,” he keeps his grip on your ass when he presses his hips forward, and, okay, this has to stop before you lose your mind.

Thankfully, the elevator dings right then, and “Matt” straightens out, wiping his kiss-swollen lips and walking out like a normal person. He stays silent until you both enter your apartment, where Alex is sitting in front of their computer munching on a block of cheddar cheese like some sort of heathen. Their eyes narrow as they take in you, then “Matt.” Too late, you remember the “investigative” part of “investigative journalist.”

“A threesome is extra,” “Matt’s” eyes go wide as he looks between the two of you.

Alex’s jaw drops, as does the piece of cheddar in their mouth. “Laurie, what did you do?”

“Matt” covers his face with his hands and groans. “You’re not going to try to peddle the Bible to me, are you?”

Alex snorts. “As if either of us are in a position to preach.”

“Sinners, both of us,” you agree, grabbing your handtowel out of the bathroom and running warm water over it. “Come, sit on the toilet,” you motion.

“Matt’s” eyes squeeze shut as you wipe the makeup off his face, even though you’re going as gently as you can, to reveal the purple ring around his eye.

“Put some ice on that,” Alex says at the door, holding a bag of frozen peas out to you.

“Matt” says nothing, but judging from the unhappy tilt to his mouth, he’s probably only letting this happen because he’s getting paid.

“Thanks,” you take it from them gratefully and have “Matt” press it against his face. “So, you hungry?” you ask, walking out to the kitchen.

“What do you want?” “Matt” asks flatly, “I’m not complaining, but six hundred dollars is a bit much for a therapy session.”

“It’s cold out,” you say lightly. “Days like these, I know I want to eat something hot.”

“Matt” thrusts the bag of frozen peas back to you. “I don’t need saving.”

“I know,” you don’t tell him that you’re lonely. You also don’t tell him that the last three people you saw around the building he came out of were dead.

There must be something in your face that gets his approval, because “Matt” puts the bag of peas back on his face. “Macaroni and cheese,” he says, before sitting stiffly on the couch.

“The macaroni I can do,” you dig the box of pasta out of the cupboard. “Unfortunately, the cheese,” you nod to the cheddar in Alex’s hand.

They shove the rest of the cheese in their mouth, probably just out of spite. But then they wave you into their room, just after you put the pasta in the pot to boil. They lean down to the safe they have in the corner, next to the closet, and opens it to reveal more money than you’ve ever seen at once. “When you get the sort of assignments I do, you learn to keep a thousand dollars in cash ready to go,” they say ruefully. “How much do you need?”

“I can’t-”

“Can he?” Alex cants their head to the guest in the living room.

You take the money. For some reason, Alex takes their laptop and shuts their door after this. Music blares from their room, and then it’s just you and “Matt” in the living room.

You sit uncomfortably at the dining room table across from him, and you eat in silence. “Here,” you say finally, handing over the other half of the five hundred.

“Matt” doesn’t touch it, instead coming to stand in front of you. In between one blink and the next, he’s straddling you.

“Matt-”

“Let’s figure out how to make you feel good,” he murmurs against your jaw before swooping down to kiss you, hot, wet, and absolutely filthy. His lips curve against yours when you shiver from it, and only now do you realize you’ve been kissing back. He tastes like your boxed pasta, like mint, like that weird burnt chemical smell from the building he came out of.

You wrench away. “Jesus, stop, fuck!”

“Matt” frowns at you. “Why?”

“Fuck, I don’t need-” your voice cracks. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m sorry,” your legs are shaking too hard to stand up, but “Matt” gets off you regardless and sits on the couch.

“I’m clean,” “Matt” says quickly. “I go to the clinic every week. You need to see the test results?”

“No,” you manage to stand mostly without staggering. “I only have sex with people who want it.”

“Matt” scoffs. “Well I want what you paid me for,” he nods to the money that’s still on the kitchen table.

“Well, I paid you to sleep on this couch,” you nod to it. “Do you want a blanket?”

“You’re no fun,” “Matt” spends too long rolling his eyes for it to be sincere. “I’d like a pillow, too.”

You get them for him, and then you lock your bedroom door and spend less than a minute jacking off before orgasming as silently as you’re capable of.

[scarlettrhettelizabethrichard]

Chapter 3. Impression, Rising Sun, my GWTW fanfiction

Chapter 3 of The Robillard Boutique

Charleston, December 1873 Sitting back in a comfortable chair, Rhett nervously inhaled the smoke from his cigar, a sheaf of documents in one hand. The other was gripping the armrest firmly. Without taking any notice, his fingers were mechanically scratching the already worn leather of the good old Chesterfield.     He had waited so long for this divorce certificate. As soon as he returned from Atlanta and his altercation with Scarlett, he had gone straight to his notary's office after leaving the station to give him the form signed by Scarlett O'Hara. "Don't flinch! Break the bond now. » And then the wait for the official notification began. For the next three weeks, his nervousness put Eleonor and Rosemary to the test. They could not enter the library. The place reeked of alcohol and the ashes of burnt cigars. At the slightest signal from old butler Michael to open the front door, Rhett would appear, looking for a courier to deliver the envelope. He hoped for it, he dreaded it, he looked forward to it, he hoped it would never happen... How many times had he had to restrain himself from rushing to his solicitor's office and ordering him to cancel his divorce petition! His constant changes of mind had finally caused him stomach cramps. "Thank God I held out! Free at last! "Rhett Butler chuckled to himself. It's true, he had doubted. Scarlett had clouded his judgement with her incongruous declaration of love when Mrs Wilkes died. After twelve years of desperate waiting! But no, it was too late. The little pest had succeeded in drying up her capacity for emotion. In any case, Bonnie had taken all her love with her. "That Scarlett should cry in turn is only fair! » And besides, did she really love him? From the speed with which she had accepted the end of their marriage, he doubted it. When he arrived in Atlanta last November with the divorce form in his pocket, Rhett anticipated many months - even years - of struggle before Scarlett agreed to stop calling herself Mrs Butler. Dumbfounded, he had seen her stand up, take the pen with a determined air and sign "Scarlett O'Hara" at the bottom of the document. Without a fight. A twinge of guilt surprised him, but he quickly banished this emotional reflex. Ah, if it had been for Ashley... All those long years during which she had waited patiently for this vain puppet. But in the case of Rhett, her "great love" miraculously revealed according to her, two months had been enough for the distraught lover to annihilate her patience and to probably change her love target again. "Definitely, no, there is nothing to regret. No more Mrs Scarlett Butler. The rope with which you strangled me for twelve years is cut. It's over, Scarlett! A clean, sharp break. Brutality suits you so well! From now on, there will be no more ties between us. No more enduring your whims and cruelty, no more being in your presence, no more drowning in your emerald eyes, no more wrapping your long locks of hair around my neck, no more being able to touch you... Never again, Scarlett..." He celebrated his new status as a divorced man with his stash of whisky and shut himself up in his room for three days. A week later, judging it best to avoid the ire of a mother outraged by his "abandonment of wife and children", he had run away - "as usual", Scarlett could have said. "Of course not, it's not running away. I'm just going to enjoy my single life. » *************************

Paris, January 1874 He left for London where his English partner was waiting for him. It was while talking to industrialists that he got the idea of starting a new business. "We'll see when I get back to Charleston. I've got time to work on my project. » Then he crossed the Channel to spend a few weeks in Paris, his favourite European capital. There, too, the wealthy businessman planned to do some business and invest in successful ventures. As on his previous visits to the French capital, Rhett the art lover admired the architecture of the Eternal City and its museums. He made a few days' foray into the provinces to visit the châteaux of the Loire. Rhett the epicurean enjoyed the sophisticated gastronomy, the Parisian life and its nightly shows. Rhett the jouster found above all his refined places of priced pleasures. The seductive American with the enticing smile was welcomed with open arms, of course. Every evening he greedily chose his playmate for a few hours, never for the whole night. On Tuesday, this one was chosen because her blond hair contrasted with Scarlett's hair, which was as black as darkness; on Wednesday, this one accompanied him because her skin was the colour of gingerbread, contrasting with the pearly whiteness of Scarlett's body; on Thursday, he preferred the third one because her hips were wide, contrasting with Scarlett's slim waist. It was unconscious. He didn't even notice. At social functions with friends, he was often placed next to young girls to be married. In France, his situation as a divorced man did not seem to panic the families of good society. On the other hand, his bank account was certainly attractive. Jacqueline, a pretty young person with blonde curls, had been his date on trips to the theatre and the opera. She blushed. Rhett, who had been out of the habit of dating "maiden" since a certain barbecue, was flushed. Had the 16-year-old Scarlett blushed at Twelve Oaks in 1861? No, certainly not to him, but perhaps to Ashley... He admired the young Frenchwoman's literary and artistic knowledge. It was a change from his ex-wife, whom he had taken to slyly mocking because of her poor school education! After a few discreet caresses exchanged, kind words spoken, the prospect that the lady would probably become a perfect housewife, submissive to her husband, cultured, pleasant, loving and... so boring, he grew weary. "To my great regret," he confided to her apologetically, "my duties call me back to America. Rhett Butler, a great aesthete since his adolescence, took advantage of his stay in Paris to indulge in more cerebral pleasures. On 15 April 1874, following the advice of his friend Jean, he went to 35 Boulevard des Capucines in Paris, to the studios of the famous photographer Nadar. 30 artists had gathered for the first time to show their paintings, sculptures and engravings for a month. Most of the exhibitors were unknown to Rhett. Their common denominator was an innovative, provocative and revolutionary style, according to the art critics. One of the critics, in mockery, later called them "Impressionists". He did not linger long in front of Berthe Morisot's painting, "The Cradle": a young mother leaning tenderly over her sleeping baby. Scarlett had never taken the time to admire her precious Bonnie in her little bed. Rhett stood petrified before a painting entitled "Impression, Rising Sun". The author of the work, Claude Monet, observing this elegantly dressed American, took care to comment on his creation, the effect of the mist on the port of Le Havre. Rhett thanked him warmly. A disturbing emotion made his imagination wander. He was mysteriously caught up in the scene: an orange sky, symbol of fire, of burning passion; in the background, port buildings and boats reflected in the water, with blue pigments similar to the eyes of his dear little girl; finally the sea, a gradation of green hues: water green, like a tear-fogged eyelid; pale green surrounded by a thousand shining sequins, like eyes flooded with sweetness after love; emerald green, a hard, raging green, heralding flashes of anger, Scarlett's last look on that November day in 1873. He inquired about the price and immediately reserved the painting, making sure that it would be shipped to him in Charleston as soon as the exhibition was over. He cut his visit short. On the way back to the hotel, he stopped at his travel agent's and booked his place on the first boat to leave for America the next day. Rhett was looking forward to seeing "Impression, Rising Sun" in his armchair in Charleston. Perhaps he would install it in his room so that he could not take his eyes off it until he fell asleep. ********************** Charleston, May 1874 When she returned, Eleonor gave Rhett a big hug. As usual, her favourite son had spoiled her and Rosemary. Packages were piled up in the hallway, between Parisian-style trinkets and boxes of chocolate pralines. "I'm finally turning the page! "he thought with conviction. He immediately contacted his solicitor to check that he had not received any letters from Atlanta sent by Henry Hamilton, Scarlett's solicitor and uncle by marriage. "Not that I care in the least, by the way! "he convinced himself. It was high time to manage his business. These were difficult times and Rhett had to take a serious look at his investments. He couldn't help but chuckle as he recalled the ironic coincidence between the resounding financial crash on the New York Stock Exchange in September 1873, triggering a string of industrial bankruptcies, and the day Rhett left Scarlett and Atlanta. The Nothern Pacific Railway was ruined that day, followed by 89 other railways. Fortunately Rhett had divested himself of the company and sold all his shares earlier that year. One of his partners who had speculated on the rail frenzy had not had the same reflex. Overnight he was ruined. Yes, divorcing Scarlett seemed like an earthquake, even on the New York Stock Exchange, he quipped. "And I'm afraid I'll continue to feel the seismic tremors for some time to come," he said bitterly. The former war profiteer Rhett Butler had proved to be quite adept at managing the improperly earned Confederate money. Of course, large sums had been invested in hedge funds. So he too had suffered some losses. But nothing that would threaten his fortune. When Bonnie was born, in order to protect the future of his beloved daughter, he had embarked on a vast real estate project in New York, in Yankee country. In this bustling city, every piece of land was now prohibitively expensive. In 1869, Rhett had acquired a large area of wasteland in a fast-growing district. He had built buildings of about ten storeys. Rhett demanded that his high-end properties be equipped with all the comforts of new technology, lifts, good ventilation and sanitation. Central heating fed by a low pressure steam circuit ensured comfort for the lucky occupants. To make the most of every precious yard, the ground floors opened onto large glass galleries with shops. In short, Rhett Butler's property portfolio on that May day in 1874 was impressive. "Fortunately, I took the precaution a long time ago to convert my financial liquidity into gold bars! "The businessman congratulated himself once again. Unlike many of his acquaintances, who had to endure the catastrophe caused by the decision of the US Congress and its Coinage Act*. Overnight, their fortune in bundles of money was deflated. Thanks to his foresight, flair and experience, Charlestonian Rhett Butler had managed to weather the financial and economic crisis without much damage. Rhett was very rich. "Rich enough to continue paying Scarlett's expensive pension." Deep down he knew he would continue to protect her financially well beyond the five years agreed in the divorce. He laughed under his breath at his ex-wife's incomprehensible and in no way deserved show of generosity. Ex-wife... " It's been seven months, and I still can't get used to it..." Rhett shrugged. "Scarlett, you can continue to squander part of my fortune without fear of running out! "He hoped, with a childish reflex, that Clayton's former county belle would hear him in Atlanta.       ***************************** Endnotes to Chapter 5: *Coinage Act: On 12 February 1873, the US Congress voted to change the monetary standard from silver to gold.

Disclaimers : I do not own the history and the characters of the book and movie of Gone with the Wind, which beloong to Margaret Mitchell.

#novel, #writer, #fanfiction, #GWTW, #Gone with the Wind, #historic novel, #french painters, #Impressionnists, #1875's krak

[jackylc06]

When Equality Becomes Inequality: Read the Fine Print and Make Sure the Contract has an Exhaustion Clause

It has been a long time since my last post. But I want to get back in the game. It’s been some year, what with this crisis we are living in. And I am not here to tell you how to live, how scared to be, what is right, what is wrong, do this, don’t do that. ..I don’t think there are any concrete, one-size-fits-all answers in this situation. What I do think is that I have had a lot of time to ponder the secrets, discrepancies, and paradoxes of the world. And I have LOTS of questions, and lots of thoughts.  

The one I have been thinking about the most is women and our role today, in the 2020′s and during this crisis. For me, in my unique situation, my spouse is in the military. He has been tasked with Covid duty, meaning any time there is a new case, he has to do alllllll the paperwork. Not any case out in the US, but in his jurisdiction of bases... I believe there are three that fall under him... I don’t know, I check out after 10 minutes of listening to him talk about work. What does that mean for me? It means that momma has to pick up all the slack. If dad leaves at 6 am and gets home at 10 pm (poor dad, everyone gush over how hard a worker he is... and he is, there is no denying that), mom is left to her own defenses from the moment the kids get up to well after they finally pass out. Throw a full-time job in there and 3 different after-school activities, and a teenager getting her license and applying to college, and you have the perfect recipe for a disaster du jour, every freaking le jour.    

And here’s the thing... society expects us to be able to do it all. When dad is gone 17 hours a day, people are like, “wow, you are so lucky to have a reliable husband that works so hard.” And people expect that moms will do all the rest on their own... cook the meals, drive in one direction to the next town over to get your son to jiujitsu, then drive back through that town AND your town to the next town over in the opposite direction to get your other child to gymnastics, which takes an hour, but you only have 50 minutes to do it... then homework with the little ones, take care of the dog, laundry, dinner, and oh yeah, that full time job.  

Women are being burnt out. I am lucky to be able to work from home and work at my own pace, but there is a lot of pressure from my spouse to bring home the bacon. And society tells him it is normal to have all these expectations of me. And honestly, I wish I could do it all. I wish I never got tired, only needed 4 hours of sleep a night, and knew all the secrets of the world. I wish I could get my son to eat green veggies and make my daughter log in to every online class, and get the dog to stop eating every slipper in the house. But I can’t. I am sick. I am tired, and not just figuratively speaking. But that is a whole other post.  

My question is, when we as women asked for the right to work and be free from our husbands, be independent, did we ask to HAVE to? I’m gonna go out on a limb and say no. But I wasn’t really there... why are we expected to do all the household stuff, and the kid stuff, and the yard stuff, and the cooking, and be amazing in bed, look like these damn Instagram models, and squeeze in a career? PS. I KNOW this does not apply to everyone out there. And I know there are men who are expected to do it all by their partners as well. This is really for all of you. But honestly, it FEELS like society is more accepting of moms doing all the extra stuff that needs to get done, while working. I feel like if I stay home and don’t work a full time, or at least part time job, I will be viewed as a lazy mother who does not provide for her kids. On the other hand, if I do work too much, I am a mother who does not value her children enough. But if a dad cooks or does the dishes or plays with the kids, he is a HERO! This is the real inequality in today’s society.  

So, trying to find that balance, along with all the pressure for perfection from within the family unit and outside of it, and UGH! I am getting exhausted just writing this! How, how do you find that balance? If your partner is really forcing you to work by not giving you money or cutting you off from your joint resources, what do you do? What choice do you have? But then you still have to manage the kids and the house, etc.? Either deal with this as your fate, or leave? Well, that’s really just being shoved between a rock and an iron maiden. I mean, I feel like I am in the Maze Runner about to be flattened by two 40-foot stone walls, with no escape route in sight. And I know lots of other women or spouses going through the same thing... especially in the Navy, when we are separated by our families, states away from any support system, maybe even separated by oceans.  

I guess my point is, yes, I want the freedom to do what I want to do. But I don’t want to HAVE to do it all, just for that privilege. I earn my keep. I save us a lot of money, cooking, cleaning, mowing, trimming the trees, washing the cars, bathing the dog... as most stay-at-home-moms do, and a little recognition would be nice. No, I have not sold a house since Covid hit, but I am doing my damn best to be a good wife, a good mother, and a good person. Is that enough, or not?

Please let me know if there is something working for you. Or if you are going through something similar. I would love to hear all your stories and ideas! Stay safe! 

[spirify]

「Wilt Away」Chapter Four

Wilt Away

Elsword Fanfiction | Elsword x Aisha

Written by Spirify. 8. 27. 2017

“Hello dear elementalist,” A wretched voice slurred, the man squatting down in front of the fallen mage.

Aisha could only muster up a glare, her amethyst eyes gleaming with danger as her hands struggled to raise her body.

“Tsk tsk, I can’t have you getting up now,” And with a slight wave of his hand, the gravity below her strengthened, it’s grips snatching her back down to the ground.

With that a gasp escaped the female’s pale lips, the force leaving her unable to speak nonetheless move.  

“Just stay down like a good girl okay? And hey, at least you’re closer to your dead brethrens!” He laughed loudly, his hands slapping down wildly on his knees as he howled.

The others around him soon joined in to his hilarity, each letting out their own cackles. My dead brethrens…? You sick fuckers… Just wait… till I get my fucking hands on you...

“Ahh, I’m sorry, the sight of you is just so funny! I mean look at you- a person whose race reigns supreme within the magic world, a mage who holds vast amounts of mana and power- groveling at the ground from a tiny gravity skill! It’s so pathetic I could cry!” The male laughed again, his eyes flashing with amusement.

“Though I guess you can’t really help it, since power always comes at a price. And in your case- or should I say your race’s case- it’s your life force,”

Aisha’s body stiffened at those words, her eyes widening and trembling as her fingers curled into a fist, pulling specks of dirt and grass into her palms. Her body felt hot, shaking with such anger that her hands emitted flames, disintegrating the debri within her reach.

“Yo enough Randall, anymore and she might just bury herself into the ground from embarrassment!” Another man joined in, laughing as he walked forward.

“You’re right Miles, I should cut her some slack before she actually takes advantage of that gravity skill to bury herself, haha. Alright everyone, enough jokes, prepare to extract the mana reserve from her body. I don’t mind if she dies in the process,”Randall glanced down at the mage once more, “Why so quiet? Got nothing else to say now that you’re actually facing death?”

As if.

The elementalist snapped her head up, amethyst eyes flashing as she reversed the gravity skill onto Randall, the impact being much heavier and stronger as it slammed his body down, cracking the ground and crushing his bones with a sickly snap. Before the others could react, Aisha raised her hand, summoning a regal staff with white wings outstretching from it. A simple incantation was all it took for the air to turn cold and dry, frosty particles fluttering into the sky as a hail of ice came roaring down. The speed at which it came down was frightening, instantly piercing through several bodies with ice that climbed up from inside and out, putting them into an eternal frozen coma. However, with each skill, she felt her body become colder, weaker, hollower- yet her rage left her blind to the effects.

Screams of anguish filled the atmosphere as burning meteors came right after the blizzard, charring the frozen bodies into ashes. The followers of Randall teleported into order to dodge it, their weak mana shields barely withstanding the flames, slowly shattering with each contact.

“Restrain her!”

“Quickly, before she kills us all!”

Hah… Breathless and cold, the elementalist struggled to her knees, each breath coming out as a hoarse wheeze. She was shaking uncontrollably, her arms and feet barely keeping her body up due to the massive amount of magic power she had just released. And just like that, as quickly as the elemental storms had come, they had seized.  Suddenly, the flames were gone. Suddenly, the screams were quiet. Suddenly, the mage felt empty.

…

“...It’s gone…? She’s out of power…? Hahaha, HAHAHA! She’s out of power…!” A remaining follower snickered, her white eyes widening with fearful joy as she pulled her wand closer to her body, “What are you going to do now?! You have nothing left to protect you! Absolutely nothing!”

The question was met with silence. Aisha’s gaze remained lowered to the ground, her body having given up on standing. Her staff laid beside her, the wings which had outstretched itself so magnificently now laid dead and torn up on the dirt. Slowly, her gripped loosened around the rod.

I have nothing left…

Ah, the familiarity of despair. The deja vu that she had felt earlier didn’t remind her home. It reminded her of the death of her home. It was over. Her life of being the hunter had reversed. Now, she was the hunted. How ironic.

Drip… Drip…

Shakily, Aisha raised a hand to her eyes, gently swiping them. What gathered on her fingers, were tears.

“Why now…?” She scoffed sadly, smiling brokenly.

There was nothing left for her in this world. Perhaps there would be something else beyond it. Raising a tear-stained face to the sky, she took in a shaky breath, her eyes gazing at the dimming moonlight.

“Chain her down, now.” The follower snarled.

With that command, the female felt magical chains begin to wrap around her body, twisting around her arms and neck.

I guess it ends here...

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

… That voice…!

Immediately, a figure came crashing down, slamming two swords down onto the chain and shattering them into tiny pieces. Aisha eyes widen as she stared in disbelief at the sight before her, unable to move or react as a gust of wind came flying past from the shockwave of the attack. What laid before her was Elsword, his back arched in a predatory stance as his scarlet eyes flickered with rage. The male was emitting a dangerous bloodlust, his hands gripping the blades tightly as he stood up straight, slashing one sword to the side.

“Y-you…” Aisha stuttered, watching as he turned around to glance at her.

The swordsman's cold eyes only softened once they made contact with amethyst ones. He walked forward, ignoring the threatening people surrounding him as he knelt down infront of the mage. He took in her flushed face, her sparkling lavender eyes, and her sullied clothes. It only made him angrier.

“Why… why are you here…?” Aisha whispered, flinching as his hand came forward to gently to wipe her tears.

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” Elsword replied with a grin.

“... This doesn’t involve you, leave,”

“Still going to keep up your front around me?”

“You- Elsword- just leave. You’re don’t even know me,” She inched back, pushing him away weakly.

“Well, we’ve only known each other for two days,” He chuckled lightly, “Besides, you’re crying. I think that’s enough of a reason for me to be here,”

Aisha felt her chest tighten at his words, the pain becoming almost unbearable as suddenly more tears started to flow down her cheeks. She shoved him back, shaking her head vigorously.

“No! Leave! Get out of my sight! I told you already that this doesn’t involve you!”

Silence. She felt him press his forehead against her own.

“This does involve me. I’m the leader of Piecers, the notorious group known for meddling in things they’re not suppose too,”

“Stop flirting already! I’m being seri-!”

“I’m being serious too,” Elsword cut in, narrowing his eyes while engulfing himself and Aisha in a protective fire barrier as the enemies surrounding them started to close in, “Just say the word,”

The female bit her lips, pressing her palms against his chest in a useless attempt to push him away. She felt his hand wrap around her head, pulling her closer to him. Whatever she did, she couldn’t find it in herself to look away from his honest and entrancing eyes, the hue being so mesmerizingly gentle.

“Give me the word, Aisha,” The male murmured softly.

It was too much. He was too much. What else could she do? With a tiny sniffle, she dropped her hands from his chest.

“... Mm…”

That reply was all it took. Suddenly the swordsman leaned forward, capturing her lips with his in a tender kiss. Taken back, Aisha froze, her eyes widening. However, it didn’t take long until she closed her them. It was such a soft kiss, but at the same time, it was so powerful. It was warm and passionate, enough to drop the front that she had worked so hard to put up in order to protect herself. For the first time, in all the lonely years she had lived her life in, she felt the desire to live. With one final press, Elsword leaned back, his crimson eyes glittering as a smile worked it’s way up his lips.

“I’ll be right back,”

Aisha nodded quietly. It didn’t take too long till the surroundings turned into a fiery haze, the scarlet color filling her vision as screams resounded through the atmosphere. But she didn’t have the energy to look up, instead waiting till it was silent and cool once more. The crunching of burnt leaves alerted her attention, watching as Elsword sheathed his swords and reached forward to carefully lift her.

“I can walk…” The mage said softly.

“I’d rather you not,” He replied, beginning to walk past the ashen corpses that laid amongst them.

The male observed her complexion,  her lips pale and her eyes lidded as she let out slow and heavy breaths. He could tell she was beginning to lose consciousness, her body slackening into his arms. Despite having her so close to him, she felt so distant. Almost as if she was going to leave to a place he wouldn’t be able to follow her too.

“Elsword, there is something I wish to discuss with you about,”

“What now Eve? Gonna question why I’m so ‘smitten’ with Aisha again?” Elsword muttered lowly, shifting his glance away from the seraph.

“No. There are more prominent things to talk about than your ‘crush’. During that mage’s escape, I realized something quite troublesome, something that will affect you deeply if I assume correctly,”

“And? What would that be? That she’s amazingly swift and keen? That she was able to easily escape from you Eve?”

The maiden let out a tired sigh, reaching a slender hand to her face as she shook her head.

“That is not of the topic that I wish to discuss about. I will say that I am most impressed with her abilities but there are more important pending matters, Elsword,”

“Say it then,”

“Can you perhaps recollect the time when we stumbled upon a ruined village a few years ago? The village that most call as the Wilting Flowers?”

At the name of Wilting Flowers, the swordsman turned around to lock his attention fully on his comrade, the name being unsettlingly familiar.

“Though we only scavenged that village for jewels and money, I was quite curious about how it came to destruction so I researched it on my own. According to what I found, that village was home to the most powerful magicians on Elrios.”

“Most powerful magicians…?”

“Indeed. Their race being called Ewolm. From what I understand, they held the highest mana reserves and spells that could bring kingdoms to their knees if they so wished. Yet they didn’t, they remained hidden as a small village deep within the mountains- until those hungry for power came in search of their mana reserves.”

“So the destruction of Wilting Flowers, were actually remnants of a battle?” Chung questioned, seating himself down beside Elsword.

“I believe so. The Ewolm were the most powerful magicians on Elrios, surely an army of attackers shouldn’t have been a problem to them… But their village was destroyed and not a single corpse was found… Isn’t that quite odd?”

“Get to the point Eve,” Elsword said, an uneasiness growing inside him as he listened to the story.

“In differents views, I would say that power comes at a price. So what price did the Ewolm have to pay for their strength and virility? What consequence of their power led the strongest magicians on Elrios to become annihilated to an army of power seekers? The only conclusion that I am able to come up with is their life force,”

Dead silence. Eve continued.

“Perhaps the Ewolm were not defeated by power, but by numbers. Spells after spells to keep the attackers at bay, all while draining their life force to the point in which they defeated their own selves,”

The Piercers were struck with a sense of timeless horror, fully realizing the impact of the nasod’s words. The concept was so simple, yet so brutal. Great power at the expense of their life. The ability to kill all whilst killing one selves. A true irony.

“.... How does this relate to Aisha…?” Elsword already knew the answer.

“... The marking of Ewolm, the flag that we saw lying burnt in the center of Wilting Flowers. She has the same marking.”

[rwby-fan-theories]

jaune will kill cinder revised

cinder murdered pyrrha jaunes love interest and mentor and he probably blamed himself for her death  especially since he once said to pyrrha

“I’m tired of being the lovable idiot, stuck in the tree while his friends fight for their lives! Don’t you understand? If I can’t do this on my own… then what good am I?” jaune to pyrrha

and he was too busy being that guy to help pyrrha and she died so he probably has a desire to get stronger (which he will  possibly gaining some magic or power to use in the fight) and stop cinder. and cinders very name relates to fire Whenever she uses Dust, it’s always Fire Dust, and a cinder is the light among ashes that can be seen when a fire has died out, when ever she uses magic she mainly uses fire magic. so it would be fitting/ironic when jaune is the person who kills her since joan of arc died by fire after being condemned as a witch since it would be jaune overcoming/crushing the thing that killed his inspiration to represent him overcoming it. so while cinder killed pyrrha in a way that matched her inspiration by shooting her with a arrow first in the heel and then in the heart matching both variations of achilles death. she will not succeed in killing jaune  (In a way that would match his inspiration)  he will over come cinder (fire) where pyrrha couldnt overcome cinder(archer correlating with the way that achilles died) jaune whos inspiration is joan of arc who died via fire will defeat and kill cinder  overcoming the way that joan of arc died etc. (also european dragons are associated with fire and jaune has a knight motif and  jaune also fights in a knightly style with sword, shield and armor.  and falls under the trope http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/KnightInShiningArmor

(Forever Fall shows him saving the life of Cardin Winchester when an Ursa was about to kill him. Jaune pretty much showed everybody what it means to be a Huntsman: staying cool under fire, carefully positioning yourself to find the enemy’s weaknesses, and defending those who can’t defend themselves, even if they don’t necessarily deserve it. He also fights in a knightly style with sword, shield and armor. However, he subverts this trope in one respect: while he has the personality to back up the trope, he really doesn’t have the skills. )

 (p

 except while his personality matches it his skills do not yet) and knights slay fire fire breathing  dragons in various storys  joan of arc disguised herself as a man to be a knight and cinder could bee described as salems dragon ( the tv tropes term

it  would also be fitting since pyrrha was jaunes mentor(http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MentorOccupationalHazard ) and taught him how to fight so it will be fitting when jaune kills someone pyrrha was unable to defeat ( even after cinder fought ozpin got a some her aura taken out  )  representing jaune doing what pyrrha couldnt do) and jaune even uses the same basic gear as pyrrha (a shield and a sword) and when pyrrha fought cinder she ddnt use the spear or gun form of her weapon.  it was always in its sword form so she was using a  sword and shield through out her fight with cinder  its foreshadowing to jaune being the one to take down/kill cinder 

jaune would crush the person who represents fire the thing joan of arc was killed by 

I mean the irony of the person with a joan of arc theme killing the fire user

plus 

he would also also take the element that was used to kill her and use it for himself with him  fusing his body with  fire dust a reference to joan of arc being burnt at stake ( though he wont die)  (this might be a bit of stretch) crocea mors means yellow death. yellow is a color associated with fall  so it would be fitting if jaune kills the fall maiden with crocea mors ( which means yellow death)  edit : 

http://huggingmarshmallows.tumblr.com/post/139397365284/so-i-was-talking-to-a-friend-over-skype-and-i-was

https://rwby-fan-theories.tumblr.com/post/154942072470/jaune-was-partly-based-off-cloud-strife-from-final

if pyrrha is aerith jaune is cloud  because of the fact that they both crossdressed for the sake of someone they cared about and given that monty is a die hard fan of final fantasy he might have used jaune to reference that. plus both are swordsman, both had low self esteem, both are blondes  plus cloud suffers  from motion sickness just like jaune had been shown to suffer motion sickness( though clouds motion sickness improved overtime  and when he was in his fake soldier persona(which were created from certain cells mixing his memories of Zack’s personality with the cocky and selfish attitude he believes a SOLDIER 1st Class would have ) it disappeared returning  after his true persona was restored) both cloud and jaune had dreamed to be a hero with cloud wanting to be a hero like sephiroth with (this was when cloud was 10) and jaune wanted to be a hero like his  father and grandfather etc and cloud was tormented by guilt over what he perceives as his past failings to save those he cares about like when tifa got hurt( to the point where her life was in danger)  when they were younger  he blamed himself for not being able to save her. and you cant tell me that jaune wont be tormented about his inability to save pyrrha. heck he was shown to be tormented by his weakness of being  “I’m tired of being the lovable idiot, stuck in the tree while his friends fight for their lives!” and cloud himself had feelings of helplessness,  both of them are swordsman,  Jaune’s character theme (Joan of Arc)  had heard voices in her head and visions from god of   dead saints  speaking to her as a message and was telling her what to do first it was just live piously then it had been to lead the french against the english.and cloud got visions of aerith who communicated with him after death (so it would be fitting for jaune to get visions of pyrrha and it would add to the similarities between jaune and cloud)

( heck I have a theory that jaune is going to have dust (which I believe was made from the auras of the deceased) infused into him which would  correlate with how cloud had    been exposed to Mako  since dust (coming from the auras of the deceased( from dead people) would would be the equivalent to mako and jaunes  eyes will probably glow like how clouds eyes glowed blue due to  the mako in his body 

“adam taurus has dust infused to his body and

One of the very first things the narrator says in the first episode is “Man, born from Dust.” The name Adam from the Book of Genesis is derived from a Hebrew word for earth, or the ground. Or, in other words, dust. which is very good nod to the bible and another nod would be adam taurus having dust infused to his body I mean look at the black trailer and how his hair  and eyes glowed”

http://rwby-fan-theories.tumblr.com/post/133320516959/adam-taurus-has-dust-infused-to-his-body-and-one

https://rwby-fan-theories.tumblr.com/post/152030012845/jaunes-body-be-fused-with-fire-dust-that-came

aerith was killed by sephiroth and the one who killed sephiroth  was cloud.

and cinder(sephiroth) was the one who killed pyrrha(aerith) so she will die by jaune(cloud) hands 

plus jaune being helped to stop cinder by the fire dust that came from pyrrhas soul would be a bit of a parallel/reference to how aerith managed to stops sephiroths plans in the lifestream b plus if dust comes from dead humans and jaune fused with fire dust coming from pyrrha it might lead to him being able to break the rules and gain the powers of the fall maiden  maiden

for rwby I have said this before but I have to point out  that when joan of arc was alive she referred to herself as the maiden and when she was canonized she was dubbed the holy maiden and what she did was crossdress and take a traditionally male role she broke the rules and the role as a maiden in rwbyverse is a traditionally female role  (yellow is associated with fall and jaune) which makes me think about jaune getting the power  along with the fact that joan of arc was condemned as a witch  and witches use magic which maidens use  (though admittedly that might not happen) 

jaune s sword is crocea mors which is named yellow death and fall is associated with  color yellow 

edit: 

http://sailor-tailored.tumblr.com/post/139341354760/pyhrra-is-based-off-achilles-in-the-one-story-of

“ pyrrha is based off Achilles.

In the one story of Achilles, during the Trojan War, Achilles decides to go back into battle after his friend/lover Patroclus is killed (which is how Achilles’is killed btw).

In RWBY, Jaune acts as Pyhrra’s potential love interest. What’s interesting is that, instead of Jaune’s death motivating Pyhrra, as in the original Achilles story, it’s her death that motivates him. Which is a switch-around on Achilles’ story. So, instead of Achilles going into battle, it is now “Patroclus”–Jaune of Arc, the man based off the French-woman Joan of Arc.

RWBY is heavily based off myth, legend and fairytales, but with twists. I think that Pyhrra’s death and Jaune’s handling of it is likely (?) based off Achilles and Patroclus’ story.

the role of achilles and Patroclus ( who was achilles lover and was trained by achilles but was killed and this led to achilles going back to the fight and achilles killed the person who killed Patroclus so if the role of achilles and Patroclus is switched as they say then it would fitting for jaune to kill cinder

It makes a lot of sense for Jaune to be the one to kill Cinder, since Ruby’s Final Boss, so to speak, will probably be Salem, it’d make a lot of sense for Jaune, leader of the deuteragonist team, to kill Salem’s Dragon

http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheDragon

, to use a term from TvTropes: with Cinder being the cause of Pyrrha’s death, Jaune has a reason to fight her; finally, Jeanne D'Arc started out as a simple farmgirl and ended up leading the french armies, the woman who seemed the main villain for two Volumes being killed by the guy who started the series not even knowing the most basic things of being a Hunter would parallel that”

actually  it would be even more awesome if jaune beat her without relying on dust just relying on aura and semblance and his weapons. like how pyrrha did in the fight though jaune  unlike pyrrha would win or he would beat cinder with the help of ren and nora which would fit since cinder took down amber with the help of emerald and mercury so it would fit plus it would be a contrast to how pyrrha tried to take cinder on alone and failed while jaune would take on cinder as a team and win with him laying the finishing blows 

( something  Ihad puton rwby fan theories : https://rwby-fan-theories.tumblr.com/post/150316280717/jaune-will-gain-the-fall-maiden-powers-breaking

“  Also what sounds better as a writer when facing Cinder? Ruby: “You killed the woman who I’ve had like 3 conversations with!!!!” Or Jaune: “You killed the woman who made me who I am.” (another suggestion you killed the woman I loved ) 

jaunes inspiration is joan of arc a saint saints are  who is recognized as having an exceptional degree of holiness, or likeness to God.  and there is a precedent  with Saints killing dragons especially if you count St. George and jaunes inspiration/character theme is joan of arc a saint  

and jaune may be partly inspired off of saint george though his main character theme is joan of arc 

about saint george

according to legend, was a Roman soldier of Greek origin  and jaune was trained by pyrrha whose inspiration is a achilles a greek hero so I think jaune will be partly inspired by saint george

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_George

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_George_and_the_Dragon

(its possible that jaune will take out the dragon on beacon tower after it starts moving again alive again since it was spitting out all the grimm from its body which could represent the plague bearing dragon from saint george tale  and how it poisoned the countryside or it could be a different grimm dragon

plus   With Jaune and the dragon, and his name Arc,  you could also say he represents the archangel Michael since ARChangel Michael  is often portrayed as slaying a dragon.  there is standard  iconography of Archangel Michael as a warrior saint slaying a dragon.

Statue of Archangel Michael at the University of Bonn, slaying Satan as a dragon 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_(archangel) and

in the book of revelation  described as a dragon and satan is represents  the element of fire  and cinder mainly uses  the fire element alot

http://dahniwitchoflight.tumblr.com/post/139416232117

or jaune slaying cinder could be a reference to apollo slaying the dragon python and cinder is salems dragon in tv tropes terms http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheDragon

(as in she is the right 

[todieingrave]

Thursday, August 10th 2017

Hey it’s be awhile since the last time I made a blog on here. I’ve been super busy dealing with a lot of things, especially the moving part. I will be moving to southern California in about 3 days!! Woah that came up fast! 

I think the last time I made a blog was on June 1st, so I’ll try to catch some of you up on some things that have happened between that time until now. Well, I’ve gone on a few hikes and made some new friends between that timeline. I have been becoming more mentally healthy now that I’ve let go of a few toxic people in my life. It’s even starting to show in my dreams how much better I have become so far. I used to always have horrible nightmares, especially this past year while my mind was in a very negative place. But now this past 2 months I have been having good dreams. I ended up officially reactivating my main facebook account again and I had an overwhelming respond of support from my old friends welcoming me back that I am so thankful for. I updated that account a little bit with photos that I haven’t been able to share on there since I have been gone. Right when I reactivated that account a good friend of mine informed me that they found a fake account using my pictures. So I had to get rid of that and I deleted quite a few people who I no longer wanted them to experience my life with me anymore. Then the funny thing is that some people from my old high school were even trying to holla at me.. I find it funny how some of the people who used to judge and bully me in school are now up in my messages trying to flirt with me and try to creep on all my social media accounts. I see them but they aren’t eva gettin’ a chance. Drew and I have been doing really well actually. I think we’ve been falling back in love again. Everything just has been becoming so much nicer like it used to be before I fell into this deep depression. I have even been going out a lot more like I used to. I went out to multiple shows including, Hammerfall, Morbid Angel, Warped Tour, Iron Maiden in California, DragonForce and a few more back in Portland. The Iron Maiden trip was amazing!! Drew and I first drove to San Francisco and did a bunch of cool stuff there, like visit some spooky shops, museums, and gardens. We watched 4th of July fireworks on top of a high building looking over the city at night and flew some kites over the bay area. Our car did unfortunately get broken into on the first night there but thankfully we had good insurance on our rental and just got a new car right away. Then all the fun we had after that made up for it and we completely forget that even happened. Oh and I finally got to see Iron Maiden play live and I am beyond happy with the turn out! ��� Their stage performances were one of the best I've seen and they brought such an amazing energy to the whole stadium. I like how they genuinely look super happy up there and love what they are doing. The crowd was awesome as well! I got to get up reeaaalll close to the stage with no problem. That night turned out way better than what I expected. Then we drove down to San Diego to visit our friends Holly and Nick. We didn’t do too much down there but visit the beach, go to the exotic reptile animal expo and get SUPER sun burnt. Oh my goodness I don’t think I have ever been that burnt in my entire life. I was beat red! It was embarrassing xD Then we drove back up to L.A. for Drew’s birthday. We mostly used our time there to look for places to live and do a couple of home tours. We almost got this spooky house out in the desert but it looked like there needed to be a lot of work done on it, so we passed and settled for an apartment right next to these mountains in San Bernardino. After we found our place of stay we finally got to go out to the city and celebrate Drew’s birthday. We got to see DragonForce play on the first night we were there and oofta I got a lot of drinks bought for me. I guess I looked real purdy that night :P Then we walked on the stars and some dude forced me to hold his giant pet snake. I can’t lie, I was a little scared at first that it was going to bite me. We then visited the famous Museum of Death and stopped at a lot of random vintage shops around town. I may have spoiled the both of us a little too much. Oops! Whatever we were on vacation. Then once our trip was over we drove back to Oregon using the scenic routes and hiked around on the coast quite a bit, taking our sweet time exploring before we have to head back to that awful city I hate to call home at the moment. Once we got back home I got an email saying my chest tattoo proposal with an amazing artist I have been wanting to work with got accepted!! YAY! So I will be finishing my full chest piece for my birthday in late September. I am so beyond excited for this. Not only that but at the end of July I finally finished the complete outline on my left sleeve. Now I just need to finish the shading on it along with tattooing my armpit and hand, then it will be officially finished sleeve! Then I’ve been going to this big book store on Powell a lot with this pretty lady friend. I’ve been slowly becoming addicted to collecting books now. I just finished this thick book in a week! Yeah everything has been going well but knowing my life there will always be those downs. For instance I have been packing up a lot lately but it’s been so damn hot here in Portland these past 2 weeks while i’m doing that and we don’t have any AC here. So that sucks ass. Not only that but I am way beyond angry that one of my dumb ass roommates left our balcony door wide open a week ago, even after countless amount of times I have asked them not to do that because I'm worried about the cats getting out. Well guess what!? Those assholes left it open again and this time my kitten Artemis actually got out and jumped off our 2 possibly 3 story deck. I wasn't aware until one of our town home maintenance guys knocked on our door and said he found her hiding in a vacant lot covered in toilet water and blood on her paws. She was panting and whining whenever we touched her tummy, so now we had to rush her to the vet because she might have possibly broken either one of her paws or even a rib. Luckily everything wasn’t as bad as we expected, but she didn’t land on her feet from the fall so it was still a hard impact on her tummy that knocked the wind out of her and kinda left her breathing funny for a few days and it broke most of her claws off, along with a few teeth from her jaw hitting the ground. I was fucking furious at them because of what they have done to my sweet fur child. Mostly because the dumbass who was stupid enough to do it kept on trying to blame it on us like it was our fault when we NEVER open the deck door, let alone we have caught him leaving it wide open all the damn time. So we knew who it was right away. I of course start screaming at him when he gets home that if he doesn’t pay for her vet bills then we will be taking legal action and suing him. He then tries to pick up the broom next to him and hit me with it. I grab it and begin to kick and punch him because my immediate reaction is to defend myself if someone is going to try and hit me with an object and hurt my animals. My other roommate then decides to become violent as well and puts me in choke hold and slams me against the wall while Drew was trying to get him away from me. I was pissed and everyone who has personally has seen me with that much anger knows damn well it’s best to NEVER put me in any type of hold or try to hold onto me at all. It’s better to speak to me with words and look me straight in the face rather than trying to hold onto me, because if you hold onto me I WILL go fucking crazy and most of the time try to bite a chunck of flesh out. Since I know that has always been the most effective way to make someone let go of me when they won’t when I tell them to. So I bit his arm to release me and I punched him a few times in the face. I ended up giving him a pretty nasty black eye and fat lip but honestly... I’m not sorry at all because he shouldn’t have been as aggressive with me as he was. If he didn’t slam me into the wall then he wouldn’t have his ugly purple eye swollen shut. Stupid weak bitch. He then tells on me to his daddy and his daddy tried to play pretend detective on the phone and make it seem like I was in trouble with the police to scare me. I knew right off the bat that it wasn’t a real cop because i’m not stupid but I played along anyways because they said I apparently gave him stitches. I was very concerned at first about the stitches because he went to the hospital but then I found out he just had a little cut on his eyebrow with none. So I told them that if they ever call me again with threats I will be taking action against what has happened to my cat because of them and the fact that they assaulted me as well, leaving multiple huge bruises all over my body that are still here. He didn’t call back after that. Good! Because I am not one to mess with unless you want me to take some form of harsh revenge out on you. So I think I made my point very clear that I don’t ever let anyone harm my animals or loved ones and get away with it free. I will stick up for myself so that nobody will ever try to harm me or them ever again. Point made. Don’t fuck with me unless you want me to go crazy. I am very thankful for all the friends I have who were very supportive during this. It really helps during stressful times. I seriously can’t wait to be out of this house in a few days and start my life over on the positive path I have been aiming for. 

[blackwaldpartisan]

Seventh day after the arrival

This will be a long one. Oh so many things to put down. Foremost: Stormglen is lost.

First thing to put down is that another demon-eyed Elf appeared in our midst today under suspicious circumstances, so he was tied up (by me. Tied tightly) and then brought along with us after we fled Stormglen. He appears to have been freed by the Doctor Dead now, but kept under guard.

Secondly, we were rounded up by the leader of the Stormwind expedition (I have asked around and his name is Coragon havencrest. The Doctor Dead said I must learn the names, so I learn the names) and were told that the Reserve had broken through to the big tree in the Blackwald (something of great importance obviously happened there because every Gilnean seems to revere it. I should ask what sometime) and that they had taken the Partisans holding out there hostage. 

We surrounded the tree without trouble and the bald officer came out, the one who negotiated at the bridge as well. Or so I think. He shouted at us, the Doctor Dead shouted back. At one point he asked for me (it sent shivers down my spine. I am grateful the Doctor Dead did not sent me down there) and then for those of his men that we had apparently captured. Me and the Knight Dawnfeld were sent back to find out their names and we brought one of them back to the line with us (the Doctor Dead approved of this) and called out that his name was Oliver Mereen. We sent him forward and him and the bald officer talked. Then the bald officer shouted that he would not give in, Oliver and all his men should've died rather than getting captured, and they would kill all the Partisans inside.

Then there were gunshots inside the tree, confusion and chaos as Reservists fought against Reservists and Partisans inside. Then there was Plague. The Forsaken must have released it from the cliffs overlooking the Blackwald. Horrid green clouds rolling forward, melting people. There was shouting and screaming and panic and crying and some Partisan cried out that Stormglen was a safe haven for all. I backed myself well away. I'm not about to risk getting plagued for someone who couldn't run fast enough.

The trek back to Stormglen was rather chaotic but so very worth it when I found that one of the escaped Reservists to have made it there was Meirin! I was so very glad to see her, and she me. I hugged her and told her everything would be alright. She was trembling, but shed no tears. Frightened but not panicked. She looked just like I remembered her! Tall, slender... (though not as skinny as I've become) clad in those worn leathers, with her sword and that shoddy painted shield of hers… She said I looked harder somehow, like a whip of leather. I'm so glad she is here. Once she wakes up she will tell me of the others, she promised. I will tell her of all that has happened here, ask her advice. I have missed her.

Next, we were rounded up again and told that the village needed to be deserted (I was not surprised but many other Partisans looked a tad outraged. Does that even work? Tad outraged...) and we were divided into an attacking group and a group helping with carrying all the supplies. Both me and Meirin joined the fighters and were given a new rifle each (I remember her being quite good with one until the Forsaken broke her fingers for talking back. I hope she still is now that her fingers have healed) and we marched off as quietly as possible to storm the trenches (ironic how I was in those trenches just days ago, defending them) and mortars were called in as well as the demon-rockets (they actually did as they were supposed to. The Quartermistress gnome woman must be very skilled and powerful.) 

Note: don't get on her bad side.

It went surprisingly well. I didn't even get shot once! Meirin got stabbed in the thigh though (but it’s taken care of now) and it was good to see her enjoy killing the Forsaken after she overcame her initial hesitation. She looked almost glowing as she cut the head of her third one (I wonder if I have the same grin when I fight them?) then out of the mist ahead came Abominations. We hunkered down in the large crater and fired at it from cover. A few of my shots hit but they weren't doing well enough and I could feel my frustration building up, and I reached out for magic almost without thinking of it (it felt so easy. I wish it always felt so easy) and I summoned Felfire (to the Nether with any paladin who will complain about it) and I can proudly put down that I absolutely destroyed it. The result was gristly, but I felt very pleased about the whole business. A larger Abomination loomed in the distance though and we moved closer, taking cover behind a cliff.

It was monstrous! Covered in metal and firing grapeshots. Meirin got one to the shoulder and went down, I put her on the wagon carrying the cruel gun Victoria, and a number of the wounded. I believe a paladin and a deathknight (? what is a deathknight? I must ask someone. They said it was a deathknight though) were fighting it up close and after a long while it went down. Of course that wasn't the end of it. Further up the road a Forsaken battalion was marching towards us, dragging an iron maiden with them. One of the metal contraptions like a coffin, only with nails inside. I couldn’t understand why they would need one in combat but that much became evident later. When it started to.. sing.

I don’t know how else to describe it. Chanting, maybe. Like a whole choir of voices, quiet at first, but steadily rising.

Our officers shouted at everyone to get going up the hill, and so we did. Every shot fired at the Maiden did nothing to stop its singing (and there were many shots!) so I decided to try with magic from uphill. I summoned Felfire again and brought it down on the eerie thing with no effect. No effect but to catch its attention.

It was horrible. While its chanting is unnerving on its own, it’s nothing compared to what it does... After I attacked I felt this presence in my head, this pressure, this terrible terrible voice. Knowing. It spoke of my mistakes, of my... Of everything! It knew. It knew of every lie I ever spoke, every selfish act, every kill, every order carried out, every whisper, every single time I had tried to claw myself a little higher up the ladder... It said I wasn't welcome here. With the Partisans. It was so convincing. There and then, its words were simple truth, and they still haunt me, I can't help but remember all the things I have done...

It is a cruel joke the Light has played on me. I remember nothing of the person I was before I met the Forsaken. I know nothing of the potentially good person I was. All that remains is the mistakes, manipulation, coldness and cruelty. The bad parts. I will have to ask Meirin to remind me of good moments. She will do that for me, I don't even care if she invents them so long as I can imagine them.

A new arrival helped me snap out of the Maiden's touch and I went up the hill with the others, into the ogre mound. The Doctor Dead ordered me more or less immediately to take care of the wounded, so I did. The caster woman from Stormwind had been wounded (her sister had as well but the Doctor Dead was already treating her) and I cleaned out her wounds and closed them. No broken veins (a relief) and by the time I was done I saw that most of the other wounded had or were being dealt with. Even Meirin was wrapped up and sleeping.

I settled by a fire where I saw familiar faces. I remember the gray burnt-faced paladin arguing about the Doctor Dead being a coward, and the female mage from Stormwind (the one I stitched up) arguing back at him. They spoke of the fall of Gilneas, of the Doctor Dead apparently leaving the paladin behind in the plague (I would have too) and many other things. It all sort of slipped my mind when the Knight Dawnfeld took my hand (will he always keep surprising me like this?) and once again I found myself baffled. I let him take it though, but asked him why. He mentioned relief about being alive after all this (that I can understand) and that we could all be dead by the next day. Taking chances was important. I agree, but I still find myself doubting slightly. He also said he had grown to like me. From the way he said it (whispering and nearly blushing) I figured he didn't just mean friendly like.

I don't know what to do or feel about this.

I wrapped my fingers around his though, it tingled slightly. He seemed pleased by this. I must give this thought. Much thought. He is a fine man, rather handsome, decent, polite and he is the friendliest one I have encountered among the Partisans so far (though Odán was rather friendly today as well, I apologized to him and he accepted it with a smile) and he is a Knight. Is that not what girls dream of? Being wooed by knights. He can also handle himself in battle, and cares for me. I am flattered. Confused too. I cannot see what he would find to like in me, not in that way? I must ward my reflection so I can watch my face tomorrow, perhaps I have grown pretty overnight? Perhaps curves have bloomed in places previously barren? No. They have not.

I wonder if he seeks to bed me. What would I do then?

I need to ask Meirin about this. I need somebody else's opinion. Company and warmth is nice, but is it worth getting close to someone for? I... fell for Tem, see where that got me. I have no idea where the man is and he is probably dead. Could I love him? I don't know if I can love. This is too complex.

I'll bet the old Ailiam Beech would have fallen into his arms with a dreamy little sigh. I bet she was like that, a dreamy little fragile thing. I would have known what to do if I remembered?

Writing doesn't help. Moving on. The newcomer who saved me has red eyes. Like a demon. And fangs. It is... I don't like 'him'. Not at all. When I stated that it had evil eyes (foolish. I must learn to keep my mouth shut. I did so well with the Forsaken) it merely smirked and then asked me aside for a chat. Against my common sense I followed and was very tempted to shove it off the ledge it led us to. It then claimed to have seen me cast Felfire, and taunted me some. “You should know what a demon is like, shouldn't you?” and such things. The arrogance! I will not listen to it if it speaks to me again. I'm certain there is a demon or some other wicked thing inside, whispering.

I moved back to the fire but felt restless. The red-eyed demon-man followed, and the Knight Dawnfeld was still there and I didn't know what to do. So I said I would talk to the Reservists who had joined us, and walked away. 

The Doctor Dead halted me after a few steps and asked me a few questions, including “How are you?”. It feels so odd when it acts human and considerate. It clashes with the rest of it. I said there was some good, and some bad, then asked the same question back. It glanced down at its hands then. Its trembling hands, (I cannot believe they work so beautifully when it heals people. That must be the demonic pact it mentioned. That makes perfect sense.) and said “alive”. I almost felt sympathetic towards it then. I know the feeling. I gave it my sympathies and congratulations.

Is there no one among these people that I will be able to form a single opinion of? I feel so undecided and conflicted about more or less everyone! Though I must remember that what fuels this 'elf' is evil.

I have spoken with the Reserve, or some of them. They are so broken, I pity them, and so I tried to comfort them. I don't know how well it worked. Will try again tomorrow, spend more time with them, and Meirin.

Must sleep now. Too many thoughts. Should stop thinking, just do, as with the Forsaken. It was so very much easier.