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silverfootstepswrites · 4 years ago

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Eden: BLEACH [2]

ZERO / BLEACH (here) / TWIST / REVERSE / DYE / RED

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One lives in the hope of becoming a memory. - Antonio Porchia

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There was a knock on the open door. Sakura scowled before she even looked up.

“Go away.”

“You sound more and more like him with every day.”

Sakura finally lifted her head from the ancient manuscript. She lowered her magnifying glass.

“Headmaster,” she greeted Hashirama. The older man, who hadn’t aged a single day since she had first met him, smiled in return. He lingered in the doorway, well aware of the fact that she hadn’t actually invited him inside. She just blinked at him.

Hashirama sighed.

“You’re really just like him. I wanted to let you know that those spell books you requested last month are finally here,” he informed her. And then his eyes drifting to the pile sitting on her desk. “Oh… you already got them?”

Sakura paused. The truth was that she recalled in her long nightmare several days ago that these books would arrive. Just to be sure, she had popped into the library to check. And there they were. Labelled with her name and her department.

It was unsettling- if that was the right word for a situation like this.

Coincidences happened all the time. But was it a coincidence if so many of them piled up at once like this?

“How goes the research?” Hashirama then asked.

In response, Sakura extended her hand. She imagined the molecules in the air gathering into a solid surface. The shield expanded, shoving Hashirama all the way out the door. Hashirama examined the shimmering surface of the shield. When he poked it, static electricity crackled off the outside. He jerked his hand back.

“That’s a nice touch,” he commended. And then he waved his hand. “Alright. I get the hint. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Thank you,” Sakura replied, already turning back to her reading.

Madara cackled when Sakura recounted the encounter to him that night.

“Good. Keep that geezer far away from you,” Madara agreed, crunching a pistachio between his back molars.

Sakura thought for a moment. She turned away from the stove for a moment. It was her turn to cook dinner. “You’re no spring chicken yourself, Papa,” she reminded him. Madara frowned at her.

Sakura paused. She lowered her spatula.

“Sorry, was that too much?” she asked.

But Madara only smirked, leaning against the counter. He ruffled her hair.

“Don’t worry about that kind of crap, kid. We’re always fine,” he assured her. And then he pointed at the pan. Sakura went back to stirring the garlic before it could burn.

“Quit snacking on those. You’ll ruin your appetite,” Sakura told him. She heard him chuckle.

“Are you my grandmother? Quit nagging.” And then he crunched through another pistachio, grinding it to pieces between his teeth.

Later that night, Sakura laid on her bed, phone pressed to her ear.

“Are you sure you won’t come? The guys are cute. I promise,” Ino pleaded one last time. And then she added: “Sorry. It’s just… I haven’t seen you in forever. I miss you.”

And Sakura smiled at the ceiling.

“Yeah. I’ll sit this one out, Ino. I’m not feeling it,” Sakura answered. She heard Ino sigh.

Before Ino could worry too much, Sakura then said: “I do appreciate the invites, Ino. I know you’re just thinking about me. I’ll be at the next one.”

Ino’s tone brightened. “Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”

“Take pictures so I can see them later.”

“Yeah yeah. I’ll drop by the shop?”

“Yeah.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Letting out a sigh, Sakura dropped the phone and rolled onto her side. She stretched her arms over her head. As she lay there, she could hear footsteps downstairs. She thought for a moment. And then her mouth opened.

“Papa,” she called.

No response.

She considered getting up, and then she extended her left arm. Pointing, she flicked her wrist as she called him again.

This time, the “Papa” traveled down the stairs, spreading through the third floor like mist. She could feel the way the word surged ahead, knocking walls and doors, spreading until she was sure that it could be heard everywhere.

There was a pause. And then she felt Madara’s magic wash over her in a wave. Soft. Just a little warm- as were the spells of most fire affinity casters.

What.

I’m bored.

There was a drawn-out exhale. Madara trudged up the stairs, his glasses dangling from the chain around his neck. He stood in the doorway, hand on his hip.

“What do you want me to do about that?” he demanded.

Sakura tilted her head to look at him.

“Dunno. I wanna eat something.”

Madara squinted at her. “We had dinner.”

Sakura stared right back at him.

He pushed off the doorway, already walking out of the room.

“You want toast?”

“With butter and jam,” she called after him. Hugging a pillow to her chest, she fell back on the bed again.

“Brat,” he grumbled, stomping down the stairs.

Sakura laughed.

They stood at the counter eating together, barefoot, scolding each other for getting crumbs everywhere.

Sakura loved the way the butter melted in her mouth, mixing with the sweet taste of strawberries. Madara even cut the toast into triangles, just the way she liked, even though she had never once asked him to.

It struck her, staring out the kitchen window, how fortunate she was. The people who had abandoned her had never written or called. She was sure that the Senju Institute and Madara knew of some way to get in touch with them. But she didn’t want to know.

Madara had taught her when everyone else said there was something defective about her. He had given her a place to belong. And as all these thoughts swam around in her head, Sakura let her head fall against Madara’s arm.

“You know…”

Madara looked at her as he took a bite of his toast.

“I really like being here with you, Papa. I feel happy here,” she told him.

Madara stopped chewing. He looked away.

“Then stick around, kid. It’s not bad having you around too,” Madara replied, not meeting her eyes.

Sakura beamed. She didn’t have to say anything else. They finished eating their late-night snack together. Brushing crumbs off their face and licking jam from their fingers once they were done.

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On the days that she wasn’t working at the dream shop, Sakura was working on her own research. Her thesis was exploring how magical barriers and fields interact with dreams. If shields and charms were cast in the real world, would those protections extend to dreams? (No.) Could they be manipulated to work in dreams? (Maybe- she wasn’t sure yet.)

Her undergraduate studies in abjuration focused mostly on shields and banishment. Shisui had laughed when she announced her major to them one morning at the shop. As Itachi and Sasuke both punched his arms, he tried to explain that it was a good thing.

Of course you would want to protect people. That’s just like you.

Everyone in the Uchiha family agreed that Sakura’s shields had a kick to them. They didn’t just block. They fought back when attacked. One of her favorite shields was one that she liked to call The Urchin. It looked like any other shield- clear but shimmering faintly under the right light. If touched gently, it had no reaction. But if struck with force, thousands of spikes rose out of the surface to stab the threat.

For Sasuke, who favored evocation magic, Sakura’s shields were a great source of amusement as he tried to find ways to break them down with fireballs and bolts of lightning. And Sakura in turn would then work to fix those weaknesses to render his attacks harmless. Neither of them ever admitted it out loud, but their playful competition was what had probably driven both of them to excel in their studies during their undergrad years.

Itachi worked almost exclusively with illusions. His ability to blur illusions with reality made him a fearsome sparring partner. It was no surprise that he had graduated at the top of his class in record time. Even now, his old professors joked that Itachi had walked into the school and then walked out with his diplomas.

Shisui was the only one among them that hadn’t gone on to college. But that didn’t seem to bother anyone- especially not his parents. Because as soon as it was legal, Shisui was scouted to work with the city’s observatory to test how celestial bodies and their positions influenced casting. It was a new field that not many people were familiar with. Shisui had a tendency to pack his car with his telescope and spectrometer and drive off into the mountains whenever the skies were clear. If his frequent absences irritated Madara, he didn’t say anything.

With so many people around her who excelled at magic, it wasn’t hard to find someone to assist her with research on most days. Even her friends from school, Ino and Naruto, were usually around to lend a helping hand.

But Sakura liked it best when Madara was the one to help her with her experiments.

“Because I ask the least amount of stupid questions,” he guessed when she told him so.

They sat cross-legged in Sakura’s room in the dream world. Madara looked around at all the crystals that filled the tall shelves. She had recently extended the height of her room just to accommodate them all.

“No. You just… you’re good at knowing how to help. You’re kind of a natural, Papa,” Sakura replied.

Before Madara could touch any of the dreams, Sakura made a sweeping gesture with both her hands. The room around them dissolved into a gentle blue mist. And when it reformed, they were standing in what looked like the city park. There was even a swing creaking gently in the breeze nearby.

Madara was sitting on a boulder now. He patted the surface a few times, nodding approvingly.

“The texture’s pretty realistic. You’ve got a good eye for detail,” he commented.

Sakura took a moment to smile before she closed her eyes and gathered energy into her palms again. This time, when she swept her arms, the particles in the air began to vibrate, knitting together. Closer and closer, closing the gaps until they formed a standard shield.

Madara picked up a small stone and tossed it at the shield. It bounced off.

“Well. Looks like it’s holding this time around.”

As he spoke, the smooth surface of the shield began to ripple. Like a soap bubble, it popped. Sakura’s arms fell to her sides. Her lips jutted out.

“Oh man, I thought I really had it this time,” she lamented.

But Madara just patted the empty spot beside him. Sakura made her way over. She climbed up on the boulder and plopped down beside him.

“I wonder why shields don’t work in dreams. It would be helpful for lots of people,” she grumbled. She pulled her knees up to her chest.

“Why’d you choose something so hard? No one’s ever managed to make abjuration magic last here. The dream world doesn’t follow the regular laws of nature,” Madara pointed out. And as if to drive the point home, he held up his pointer finger. A flame appeared at the tip. Only it was burning upside down.

Sakura copied him. She lowered the temperature of the magic until it turned a dull, almost brownish color. When she lowered her hand, the flame dissipated completely.

“There’s lots of people. Kids especially. Who feel scared. And maybe they didn’t have some weird artificer popping into their heads every night to make the nightmares go away,” she explained. When she met Madara’s eyes, he was smiling again. Sighing, he patted her head a couple times.

“You got a real heart of gold. You know that, right?” he commended. But the praise almost sounded a little sad.

Madara’s hand fell away.

“By the way, I wanted to ask.”

“Yeah, Papa?”

“You’ve been at home a lot lately. Something happen with your friends?”

It wasn’t like Madara to pry into her private matters. He hadn’t asked why she had started casting a barrier over their home every night before they went to bed. And he didn’t ask why she had suddenly started texting him every day while she was at work.

It was just a nightmare. One of countless ones she had dreamt over all these years. It still made her feel sick to remember the scene. So much blood.

She did feel guilty for not speaking to Gaara again. He hadn’t done anything wrong. But the image of him laying dead there next to Madara had felt too strange. Part of the reason she had chosen to minor in divination was because dreams and divination were often linked together. Dreams could be a warning of some events to come. And if Gaara was part of that ominous message, she didn’t want to involve herself with him in any way.

“Just been busy. Too tired to go out, mostly. Everything’s fine with my friends. Ino’s gonna drop by the shop tomorrow. I might get lunch with her,” Sakura replied, looking down at her hands.

They both looked up as they heard distant beeping.

“That’s your alarm,” Sakura told him, turning to Madara again.

He hadn’t aged a day since he had picked her up from the Senju Academy all those years ago. She knew that really talented casters who were constantly working with magic often lived much longer. Bathing in all that energy had a rejuvenating effect. She suspected that her aging would begin to slow soon too. It was rumored that Professor Tobirama and Professor Hashirama were centuries old- although no one would know from looking at their faces.

Madara nodded.

“See you soon, kid.”

He tapped her shoulder once before he dissolved into black mist.

When Sakura opened her eyes, she could hear the faucet running in the bathroom. Her phone was buzzing on her nightstand. She reached over to hit the snooze button. The faucet shut off.

“Papa,” she croaked half into her pillow.

There was a pause. When she pried one eye open, Madara was opening her bedroom door. There was a towel around his neck.

“Pancakes,” was all she mumbled.

Madara rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, Your Highness,” he complained, closing the door again.

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The peaceful days continued even as the weather grew cold. Snow fell on the city, but the inside of the dream shop stayed cozy thanks to an enchantment cast by Madara at the beginning of every winter.

Sakura didn’t really have to duck her head when she entered the store. But her cousins did. It was one of the few times when she was glad to be so much shorter.

She unwrapped her scarf and tossed it into the air. It hovered there. Waiting until she unzipped her coat and threw it too. Only then did the magic whisk them both away to hang on the coat rack.

“Morning,” Sasuke said from behind the counter.

“Hi. I’m freezing,” she replied. Nose red from the cold, Sakura rubbed her hands together.

“There’s still some coffee in the break room. Help yourself,” Sasuke told her. And when he began taking off his hoodie for her, Sakura waved his offer away.

When she approached, Sasuke turned the appointment book around so she could see the day’s schedule. Itachi was upstairs dealing with a client already. She didn’t have anything booked until after lunch today.

“Shisui?” she called.

“In storage,” came a muffled reply.

She found him digging through one of the shelves. To the side were rolled pieces of paper. She picked one up and opened it to find a star map.

“What’s this?”

Shisui’s head popped up.

“Ah. Weather looks real clear tomorrow. I’m gonna head out and get some readings.”

Sakura felt her knees buckle. She gripped the edge of the shelf as she remembered something else from that nightmare that had never faded from her mind.

“Shi.”

“Yeah?”

When she didn’t speak, Shisui straightened. Dusting off his shirt, he stepped toward her. When he saw the look on her face, he rushed the last few steps. He grasped her shoulders.

“Hey hey hey. What’s wrong?”

Sakura grabbed his forearms.

“Do you have to go?”

“What?”

“On your trip. Do you have to go?”

“Yeah, kid. Been planning this for a while. What’s wrong?” he said, slowly. He searched her face as he spoke. She hated the way his forehead wrinkled with concern. Hated even more the way Sasuke opened the door. Standing there with his fists held in front of him, as if getting ready to punch whatever had upset her.

“What’d you say, you turd?” Sasuke snapped. He shoved Shisui aside. He ducked to get a better look at Sakura’s expression.

“You don’t look so good. Let’s go sit down,” Sasuke suggested. He took her hand. Waited for her to slowly curl her fingers around his. As he guided her to the door, Itachi appeared. His face brightened as he spotted her.

“Hey. When’d you get here?” he greeted her.

The warmth in his voice made her burst into tears.

“What’d you two say to her?” Itachi immediately accused. He crossed the threshold to wrap his arms around her, holding her close to his chest. He patted her back as he went on with his scolding the others. “She’s tired enough as is without you two saying something stupid to her.”

“I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

“I just said I was going on a trip.”

Sakura bawled into Itachi’s shirt. She didn’t have the energy to care how stupid she must look. She needed to tell Shisui not to go. Not go away. Because what if that awful dream came true and he disappeared forever again? And then Itachi would go too. And to imagine the sorrow in Sasuke’s face hurt more than all those other things put together.

“Sasuke, go get her something to drink. Shisui, go get a blanket out of the back,” Itachi was ordering now. And then he lowered his voice.

“There there. Cry it out. You’ll feel better once you do,” Itachi murmured, patting her back again.

#eden #fanfiction #writing #uchisaku #haruno sakura

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bluepenguinstories · 3 years ago

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Remoras Full Chapter XLIV: Sting Ray

Exhaustion set in as soon as the form before us faded. Vague shapes of the people around me blurred further until they were just airbrushed silhouettes who swayed from side to side. They were both close to me while also being further away. Miles away, even as they stood in place, next to Sunny and I. Even without exhaustion, I would have felt the same, thanks to the high setting in.

“I can’t believe it’s over...”Sunny muttered as she puffed the last of her joint. I think we were all shaken by the experience, even if none of us were naive enough to believe we were rid of such a monster.

Before we were ready to move on, Remora stepped out in front of us and lowered herself down to one knee.

“Aw, are you about to propose to someone?” Sunny leaned in and teased. Remora looked up and tilted her head.

“...What?” She asked, perpetual confusion. “No. I just...well, I do have a proposition.”

“Well, out with it!” Sunny urged.

Remora lowered her head, then continued:

“I left you all at a time when I suspected we weren’t rid of the one who sought to harm us. Thus, I put you all in danger. For that, I am sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I tried to reassure her, “I don’t think any of us knew Cronus could conjure up a fog like that.”

“Even still...I left and I shouldn’t have. For so long, I wanted a home, some place I felt right in. Maybe this place wasn’t what I would have considered ‘home’ at first, but over time I found you guys to be important to me. Yet I left you all behind, because I was scared. Because I didn’t understand what you all meant to me. So, even though I know I have no right to ask this of you, I will do so anyway: may I be a part of your lives once more? If you refuse, we’ll part ways once we reach the surface and you’ll never have to see me again.”

We all stood in silence. Despite the haze which was taking over, I took the initiative and cleared my throat.

“Oh my. I wasn’t expecting this,” I remarked.

“I’m serious,” Remora replied.

I can’t do serious. Not when I’m starting to feel the buzz kick in.

“I know. It’s just that you should know by now that at least in my eyes, you’ve always got a home here.”

“Yeah, I don’t see why you’d need to worry about something like that,” Sunny added.

“Still,” Remora turned her head away from Sunny and I, “I want to make sure it’s okay with everyone.”

Tigershark stamped her feet as she marched up to Remora, then tapped her on the shoulder.

“I still don’t like that you used to kill people. That’s not a very nice thing to do. But the you that I know is a good person now, so that��s what matters to me. Besides, you’re still one of my precious older sisters!”

“I…” Remora sounded ready to object.

“If you don’t stay, I’m going to be mad, so you have that to think about!” Tigershark roared, hands on her hips.

“I guess I do, huh?” Remora chuckled a humorless chuckle, awkward smile to boot. Afterward, she turned her attention toward Demetria, to which, the rest of us did as well.

“What? Why’s everyone looking at me for?” Demetria stammered, then on the defensive, took a step back and crossed her arms, “what do you need my opinion for? It’s not my decision to make.”

“Everyone means everyone,” Remora told her, insisting on an answer.

“Sure...Yeah. Whatever.”

“Is no one gonna ask me how I feel?” Tigershark jumped up as she asked.

“How do you feel?” Sunny looked down to humor the child, still with enough energy to jump in place.

“Terrible! Thanks! This whole thing has been a nightmare! First, there was that other you,” Tigershark looked over at Remora, “who turned out to be a monster. Then we fight rock monsters. We’re all bleeding and getting hurt. Then we fight another guy who’s a monster and apparently he’s the one who killed my parents? It wasn’t a blizzard, but a scary guy? And now...I’m ready to wake up.”

“Aw, we’re sorry, dear,” Sunny pursed her lip.

“No, I agree, though,” rasped Demetria’s rough voice. Odd, ‘rough’ when I had known her to have more of a mouse-like voice. “What else could it be called other than a nightmare?”

She didn’t speak another word after that, opting instead to hobble her way closer to me, and further from Remora. It was remarkable, that even in my high state, I could notice such subtleties. As we made our worn-out strides out from the room of Cronus’ design, I noticed little pebbles fall into my messy black hair. I ruffled through my hair, trying to shake the flakes out, all while more fell onto my head.

Of course. This part of the tunnel is one of his own design. Once he’s faded away, so too do his illusions.

“Don’t mean to rush any of you all, but I think this place is about to collapse,” I dropped the hint, and being the smartypants that they were, they looked at each other, eyes bulging, then in a panic, began to pick up their pace.

“Demetria, if you find it hard to walk, you can hold onto the side of my suit,” I offered to her. She scowled, though the scowl dropped to a more relaxed frown. As if to say, “fine. If it comes to that, I’ll allow it.”

“Good, and Sunny,” I added, then turned to my wife, my life, “you can do the same with Remora. If either of you need to lean on each other, that’s totally fine,” I gave the thumbs up. Sunny winked.

It was more like a game of hopscotch than a race of peril. Really embarrassing, if I were to be honest. If I had thought to bring a video camera, or even just record them on my phone, I’d look at the footage of us running for our lives and I would laugh. As it stood, I didn’t have that luxury. Any reason to laugh had to be put on hold as my breaths grew short and shallow and the collapsing rocky ground continued to close in behind us. Its pace picking up alongside our own increasing pace.

Other short breaths followed my own as if the other four were a barbershop quartet with stage fright. Hell, with me alongside them, it may as well be a quintet.

Remora and Sunny were both tall ladies. Tigershark was somewhere. Demetria was not a tall lady and I was a Short King (OK. So actually, I am Average Man height. Like 5’7”-(on my good days) 5’9”. Probably). Together we made up a group of people trying to get by with our lives.

I felt a little pull against my arm sleeve. I looked down and saw the orange jelly bean, Tigershark herself, held on tight to my sleeve.

“Hey! Look at you! Good job!” I congratulated her as I tried to work up a smile. If not for myself, then for the kid. She still looked ready to cry. Maybe when we got back to the diner, I could make a cake. If we even still have enough ingredients. Dammit Cronus (because the fog, not because he stole our food, which in an indirect way, he may as well have).

“Fancy weather, innit?” Sunny tried up a Parisian accent.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re underground,” Remora replied in a non-emotive shout, partially muffled by the rumblings around us.

Out the false tunnel and into the original tunnel as we slid our way through as the collapsing illusion. As it shut behind us and became a wall once more, it caused a miniature quake and had us all jump into place before we fell into the ground.

“Worst trampoline I’ve been on in a while,” I remarked as I rubbed my sore bum.

Tigershark was the first to stand back up and made cymbal crashing motions as she danced around with an angry chicken look on her face.

“When I get back, I’m going to bang pots and pans, because I deserve to!” She roared.

“Yeah, can’t argue there,” Sunny murmured. Then her and I laughed.

When we struggled back up and continued walking, I decided to break the ice:

“So, anything you wanna talk about?” I peered at the Demetria beside me. She didn’t say a word.

“Ah, the quiet game. I see,” then I turned to Remora who had a confused look on her face, but also said nothing. “You’re playing too, I see.”

“You’ll have to excuse my Ray of Sunshine, he’s a little high right now,” Sunny waved her hand around in a fanning motion.

“High?” Tigershark looked up. “What’s that mean?”

“He’s ascended,” Sunny then fluttered her hands to the side, like she was breaking out of her cocoon and becoming a beautiful moth fairy.

I tried to keep quiet. I knew I should. There were rules, and if all the world was a stage, then I was a character just as much as anyone else around me. Which meant, there were rules. One of those rules was that I was to stick to the established personality traits of my character. Any deviation was forbidden.

Oh, but much like someone who drank a gallon of tea needed to pee, if we walked through this long tunnel with neither Sunny nor I saying a word, I think I’d be in throbbing pain.

“A word,” Sunny took one for the team. “That’s all I’m going to say, though.”

Wow. Do we share the same mind?

“Thank you, dear,” I told her.

“Any time. Just remember: you’re my wife.”

I chuckled in response.

“I’m your wife, just as you are mine.”

“Wife and Malewife. We’re a gay male and female couple,” Sunny snapped her fingers and remarked.

“That’s what I’m saying!” I exclaimed in agreement.

Collective groans were made from the other three ladies.

Much of our trip back from then on was a blur, other than the fact that at one point, Demetria remarked, “gee, I bet everyone else back at the diner’s wondering what’s taking us so long.”

Although I was still a little outside of my mind, I let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, they’re probably thinking, ‘it can’t possibly take this long just to turn the lights back on’.”

Speaking of lights, as weary as we were, the sight of the bright, yellow glow flooded into view the closer we reached the entrance back into the basement. I looked beside me and saw Tigershark blink several times and rubbing her eyes. The others might have been just as astonished to see light again.

For my part, I was just hoping I had a spare pair of glasses somewhere once we got back up to the surface.

We walked through and everyone’s astonishment was voiced through low “ooh”, “aah,” and “wow.” While they all looked around, I couldn’t help but notice little red streaks on the otherwise clean floor.

No doubt from the fight that went on.

Everyone else made it up to the ladder before me. When it was my turn, I noticed some red marks upon the bars of the ladder. Whether blood or rust, I couldn’t tell. I just hoped they were dry enough that none of the others had gotten it on them. Even without getting it on them, one thing was certain: all five of us were due for a bath (but not at the same time).

Once I made my way up into the kitchen, I closed the hatch behind me. Sunny dropped to the floor, a wide grin on her face, then shot her arms up.

“Whee! Let’s do that again!” She cheered.

“NO!” The rest of us shouted in unison. It couldn’t be helped, of course. She was still riding that high, even if I was starting to come down.

I half-expected for someone, or a few someones, to bolt through the kitchen door and check in on us. When that didn’t come, I expected to hear commotion from the dining hall. Then, when that didn’t come, I just had to investigate. My heart beat like a dog would wag their tail at the prospect of a treat. Though replace ‘treat’ with ‘mystery’.

So I strolled, or strode, whichever suited my fancy, out into the dining hall where I saw the crowd...that wasn’t there. Yes, despite my poor vision, I still couldn’t believe my eyes at the emptiness of it all. There were still plates and messes on each table, signs that life had been there. But where they had gone, that was still a mystery.

Everyone else came out from the kitchen soon after me. Behind me, I heard Tigershark ask, “where did everybody go?”

Yes. Good question. Just how long were we gone? What could have happened in the meantime? Were they all hurt?

“That’s a good question, pipsqueak,” Demetria replied.

“Hey! Who you callin’ pipsqueak? In a few years, I’ll be taller than you!” Tigershark shouted back with ferocious fury.

“Man, I love you all,” Sunny drawled out, an adorable smile spread across her face.

“Uh. OK? Thanks?” Remora didn’t know how to respond.

Two things caught my attention: one, though outside looked fuzzy and dark, it did not look foggy. Which could only mean that the fog was lifted. The other thing I noticed were a few sheets of paper spread out on a nearby table. Ignoring their banter, I wandered over to the table. Each sheet had our names written on one side, with a series of text on the back. Although I couldn’t make out the individual words of our names, I could tell who was who by the individual letters shown and the vague shapes that made them up.

I chuckled at the absurdity of not even being able to read a simple letter.

I hope I have a spare pair of glasses somewhere.

“Hey guys,” I motioned for the others. It was my own little way of obfuscating from the fact that I couldn’t see what was written, “come check this out.”

The others scrambled on over and noticed the sheets of paper on the table, just as I had.

“They’re...letters?” Demetria blinked, astonished, and just a slight tinge of confusion.

“Man, oh man! This is too much!” Sunny held one hand over her face while the other held the sheet of paper, “she spelled it ‘hoomin’! Like Moomin, but with an ‘H’!”

“It’s Astraea!” Tigershark gasped as she read her letter, “she said that everyone else went to the hospital and she followed them there! Apparently there’s someone in particular she wants to see.”

“What does yours say, Demetria?” I turned to her as she parsed through the page. Before she answered, she folded up the paper and put it in her pocket.

“Nothing important,” she answered in a dry manner.

“Same here,” Remora added with a shiver and a shifty look.

Nervous, much?

“In that case,” I smiled, still trying to save face, “I’ll keep my letter private as well. They are meant for the individual, after all.”

“Aw, I wanted to know what yours said,” Tigershark whined. I pat her head and chuckled.

“Maybe I’ll tell you about it later,” I suggested as a means to reassure her.

“...Heh...Hoomin,” Sunny mumured to herself and laughed a howling laughter.

Now that I think about it, she probably has less of a tolerance to that kind of stuff than I do.

I strolled over to each table and picked up each plate, ready to take it to the kitchen. As I held a stack in hand, I turned to the other four.

“Now, we’ve all had a long day, so how about we all relax? Go ahead, sit down, I’ll get you guys something to drink.

“I’ll take vodka,” Remora requested whilst lowering herself down to the booth next to her.

“What’s vodka?” Tigershark asked.

“Shitty alcohol,” Sunny answered, not seeming to care about the swear, “I’ll have whiskey, take it or leave it.”

“Both of those sound gross!” Tigershark stuck her tongue out. “I’ll just have some hot cocoa.”

“Whip or no whip?” I asked.

“Lots and lots of whip cream!” She roared and cheered, fist pumping into the air.

“How about you, Demetria?” I turned my attention to her and watched as she slumped over in her seat, next to Sunny, and sulked at the table.

“Coffee,” she stated, which I found interesting, as I never pictured her to be a coffee drinker. Then again, I didn’t know what kind of drinks she tended to like.

“And how do you take your coffee?”

“Orally.”

Her response left me no choice but to make my expression as dull as hers as I teased, “oh, really? And here I thought you took yours rectally.”

“Wha...no. I mean, black, I guess.”

Sunny cackled into a thunderous laughter and slammed her fist on the table, which shook the poor thing every which way.

Sheesh. It’s like I’ve got my own laugh track. Thanks hun.

As I worked my magic in the kitchen, washing dishes and preparing drinks, I thought it over and decided that what Sunny really needed was water. As for everyone else, it went over just fine: I didn’t have to venture back down into the basement to get some vodka (thank goodness) as there was a bottle in the fridge. After I poured a shot, I filled another shot glass with water from the tap. Next, I brewed a pot of coffee, boiled a kettle of water on the stove, and as I waited for each one to heat up and fill up, I took off to the back of the diner to search for a pair of glasses.

There were none in my desk drawer. Next, I ascended to the upstairs bedroom. Sure enough, on the night stand, there was a box for glasses. I opened it up, half-fearing that it would be empty, but my heart fluttered upon seeing that there was indeed a pair for me.

Thank my lucky stars. Feels like things are finally starting to turn around.

As soon as I put them on, the world opened up to me.

“I can see clearly now the rain is gone,” I hummed and made my way back down.

Before I went back into the kitchen to prepare the final three drinks, I unfolded the paper and read its contents. For the sake of posterity, I will transcribe it without so many spelling errors (trust me, just about every word was misspelled):

Dear Ray,

Thank you a lot for letting me be a waitress. I appreciate what you taught me about humanity, just as much as I do with the things Sunny and Tigershark have taught me. Tigershark is my friend, you know. Also, I liked asking people what food they wanted to eat. I learned so many names of foods.

I think we’re a lot alike, because we’re both curious about things. It’s good, I think, because there’s always more to learn. While I didn’t understand what was going on at the time, I know a lot of people weren’t doing too good and you looked a bit sad. But I think even if bad things happen, you’re still very nice. I also want to be very nice! But I think I like tricking people too. That’s fun (Tigershark taught me about tricking).

As for how I managed to write all this after everyone went to the hospital it’s because I can write fast (Tigershark taught me to read and write). I’m very fast! Maybe not running but I can do things fast!

Also everyone left because someone called the doctor and the doctor mobile picked them up. I was in my room but I heard that someone fell over. It sounded interesting, so I’m going to walk to the hospital now. I might come back, but it also might take me a lot of days. I can’t always tell where I’m going.

P.S. I think you would like Animal Crossing. Tom Nook is kind of like you. He’s a nice man and maybe human.

I smiled and folded the paper back up, placed it into my desk, and strolled back into the kitchen. There were still some missing pieces, some gaps that needed to be filled in, but I’m sure they would be explained in time.

Actually, I’m growing a little impatient on that front.

After pouring in the hot cocoa mix into the boiling water, I stirred it. Then I filled it sky high with whipped cream. The coffee was easy, since it was all automatic. Really, needed no explanation. As for my tea, I chose a nice cup of ceylon and jasmine tea, and let it steep. While it sat, I decided to call up Dr. Cole-Slaw. To my surprise, she answered right away.

“Ray! You better have a good explanation for all this!” She huffed into the phone, clear annoyance rang through her voice.

“I’m sorry, Shir – Doctor, but I was hoping you could give me one. I was away while everything went down. One moment, I was attending to business in the basement, the next, all my patrons are gone.”

“Are you aware what ‘DOA’ means?” She asked, a little ‘tsk tsk’ in her tone.

“Yeah. Of course. I’ve been a wanted man in a few cities.” That was a joke. I wasn’t as popular as some might have believed me to be.

“Dead on arrival, smartass. One of your friends, Xena Warrior Princess over here, called me to go retrieve a dead body. Is this some kind of practical joke?”

Dead body? What?

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. I don’t know anything about that. Also, Xena Warrior Princess?”

“I dunno, purple sword lady.”

“Wendy. I don’t think she’d appreciate being called that.”

“Oh, no, she does. I ran it by her first. She said it’s quite amusing. Anyway, care to explain?”

Still the same Shirley, I see. Still...this is concerning.

“Trust me, I’d love to. I’ve buried a couple of people outside of the diner, but there shouldn’t be any corpses inside.”

“Excuse me? There’s more? Have you gone off the deep end, Ray? I know you’ve done some questionable stuff, but I didn’t know you had it in you to be an ax murderer.”

“It’s nothing like that. Look,” I slid back from the counter, “I’ll tell you what I’ve been dealing with for the past year: there’s been a terrible fog, maybe you’ve seen it? Maybe not. But there’s been monsters in the fog attacking people and I’ve been sheltering as many people as I could, trying to keep everyone alive on what limited supplies we had.”

“No offense, but I’ve got a hard time believing that.”

“Maybe it’s better that you don’t. I’d rather it wasn’t real, myself. But as you could see, it’s been lifted. For equally supernatural reasons, I presume.”

I got to thinking about all that I’ve endured the past year. All that we’ve endured. How all that time, I never bothered to learn the names of the people I sheltered. It was just as Aurora said. Perhaps if I had gotten to know everyone, I would have figured out Sister Cecilia’s identity sooner. I would have figured out Captain Aca...okay, that one was obvious. But still, I wished that I had a stronger bond with the others. Maybe then I might have had higher spirits.

“Say, do you know who it was you picked up?”

“No, sorry. But your cohort seems to have an idea. I’ll put her on the line. She’s agreed to mop the hospital floors while she’s here. I figure it’s a fair enough deal since I ended up hauling off a whole crowd of people.”

“Great. Do it.”

“Oh, and by the way, our little Jane Doe’s still breathing. For now, anyway. She’s in, uh, not good condition, but it’s something.”

“What a relief. Wait, I thought you said dead on arrival?”

“Yeah. But I didn’t say arrival to the hospital. I’m a genius, I know,” she gloated.

“OK, let me hear from Wendy.”

She passed the phone on over, then I heard Wendy’s raspy yet sly voice.

“Hey, Ray, guess who I’m with at the hospital right now?” She posed the question.

“Are you going to tell me?” I wasn’t really in the mood for guessing, nor did I have enough information on hand to do so. “I know they’re a woman, that’s about it.”

“Hmm…” she lingered on that last ‘m’, “have you taken a look in the mirror since you got back? I do take it you’re back, and not just calling me from underground.”

“No, I haven’t. I should get on that, but I’m busy preparing drinks for the other four.”

“You sure sound exhausted, that’s for sure. I bet you look just as bad as you sound right now,” she suggested.

“Probably. I just sound this way because I’m coming down from a high, but we all need our rest. Now, since you’re not going to tell me about this mystery patient, will you at least tell me what went on while I was away?”

“Aw, you’re no fun. But sure. Basically about a minute or two after you went down, the lights flickered back on and we were all excited. I told everyone to temper their excitement, as we still don’t know what to expect. What a statement that turned out to be, as maybe a little more than an hour later, we hear someone coming back up. Some of us got all giddy, thinking it was you guys, but instead walks out this woman none of us recognized. Well, some of us thought we did, but I’m not gonna name names. She fell down once she saw us, but not before saying something, I think it was, ‘that’s all, folks’ in a weak voice.”

“Someone besides us was down in the basement?” My heart skipped a beat. I knew there was that impostor, and later on Cronus, but I didn’t think there would be anyone else. “Did she sneak down there and hide or something?”

“Couldn’t tell ya. I’m as lost as you are on that front. But I’ll say this: upon seeing her face, I flew into a panic. I shouted for someone to call a doctor. Others thought it was ridiculous, but then we saw that the fog was gone and that was when we all wanted a doctor. Someone had the number to your good friend, Cole-Slaw, and she was happy to come out and get us all.”

Something tells me she wasn’t very happy at all, but let’s put that aside.

“Speaking of coleslaw, what’s the deal with it? You put mayonnaise on radishes and lettuce or something and for some reason that’s supposed to taste good?”

“Any other time, I’d love to talk about what constitutes as food, but I’m just a little beat.”

“I get you. I think even I would be, given what you all must have gone through. But hey, now we’ve got clear skies. That’s something to celebrate, no?”

“Yeah. Maybe in the morning I can get a good view outside. As it is, it’s just a little too dark for my liking. But anyway, I should go,” but before I did, I got to thinking, “oh, and hey: if this mystery patient manages to make it, I’d like to meet her in person. Maybe you can invite her back to the diner and Tigershark and I will treat her to a nice meal. How’s that sound?”

“Sure thing, Ray. We’ll see.”

There was a great list of things to look forward to, and that just became one of them. But anyway, I needed to deliver everyone their drinks before the hot drinks turn cold and the cold drinks turn warm. So once I ended the call, I brought out each of the drinks on a platter and strode out into the dining hall.

“Here you go, ladies,” I set down each drink onto the table. Sunny, without hesitation, downed her shot.

“Damn,” she wiped her mouth, “that’s the best whiskey I’ve ever had.”

I suppose the irony may have been that it would have been easier to mistake water for vodka than it would be whiskey, but since she was still riding a high, perhaps it was just a little hard to tell.

Tigershark sipped on her hot cocoa, a little whipped cream mustache forming above her lips.

I, meanwhile, too my seat at the booth just behind them. It wasn’t a matter of isolating myself from the others. No, I just liked to listen in as an outsider while I took comfort in the solitude.

“It really has been over a year. How old are you now, Demetria?” Remora asked, working up her best kind voice.

“Twenty-four,” Demetria replied and shrugged whilst sipping her coffee.

“Aw, man! That means I missed your birthday!” Remora then complained.

“Uh, yeah? That’s what being away for over a year means.”

“Still, it’s good to see you,” Remora smiled and continued to try to lighten the mood.

“It is? Why?”

“Because I’ve missed you.”

“No you didn’t. You just missed the attention.”

“That’s not true…” Her voice turned desperate, before lowering it.

“Sorry. That was maybe too harsh of me,” Demetria looked away as she mentioned.

“No, you’re right.”

Demetria got up from her seat, took the coffee cup, chugged it down, then announced, “I’m going to my room.”

She walked off a couple of paces, then turned back.

“Don’t worry, Ray. I’ll wash out my mug before I go.”

She walked a couple of paces once again, almost to the kitchen, then turned back once more.

“Actually, I’m going to take a shower, then I’ll go to my room.”

I couldn’t help myself, perhaps a tad insensitive of me, but I cupped one hand over my mouth and called out to her.

“Actually, you’ll go through the hallway, then take a shower, then go to your room!”

She twitched, it seeming to strike a nerve, but then just said, “yeah…”

I then saw Tigershark, still with her whipped cream mustache, look over with an incredulous face, then turn back to Remora.

“What was that for?! We just got back and she’s already got an attitude?” Tigershark thew her hands up.

“It’s because of me,” Remora turned somber and stared down as she explained, “the whole reason why she left last time, and why I left.”

“Why?”

“Because I told her that I didn’t, and couldn’t care about her. Or anyone. I really thought that at the time, too. She didn’t take it well, which...understandably so. So I tried to bargain with her, and...that made it worse, because I panicked and I wasn’t feeling well, just recovering from being sick, which probably contributed to the whole thing. So...I can’t blame her for being wary around me.”

“Well, that’s stupid! You care about us, right?” Tigershark was incensed and poised for a rant.

“Yeah, but it took a long time to figure that out.”

Interesting. I never thought I’d hear her say that. Perhaps in her absence she went through a long journey of self-discovery and probably has many stories to tell of her adventures.

“So? Just tell her that.”

“It’s not that simple…”

“Yeah it is. You just told me.”

“I’m sure she’d want me to prove it, and I don’t know how to.”

“That’s dumb too! And I’m sure you missed us, too! Also, what’s wrong with wanting attention? Who says you can’t miss people and want attention at the same time? Attention is good.”

“You don’t get it. You’re just a kid.”

“So what? What’s that got to do with anything? I’ll have you know, I’m eleven now!”

“Wow. I’m gone for over a year and all of a sudden everyone’s a year older,” Remora muttered. It was almost like she was making an observation, but to anyone else, it may have come off as sarcasm.

She looked out the window, listless, then peered her head over to where I was; to be honest, I was a little caught off guard that she would notice me, given that I was just there sipping my tea and listening in to everyone else.

“I’m going to my room, too, and, uh, Ray?” Remora announced.

“Yes?” I addressed her.

“Your wife’s asleep at the table.”

“Ah. Thank you. I suppose it’s time we get some rest. In the morning I’ll make us all a large meal, how does that sound?” I offered.

“I can do it! You’re still hurt pretty bad!” Tigershark shot her hand up.

“Very well. I’ll leave it to you, then,” I gave a light chuckle as I got up from my seat, took one last sip of my tea, and led Sunny up, first by tapping on her back.

“Come on, hun. It’s time we got ourselves to bed,” I coaxed as I helped lift her up.

“Boobas…” She murmured in a half-asleep daze. She must have been dreaming about bubble tea or something.

“Yes, dear. I understand quite well.”

We stumbled our way to the back, then up the stairs to our room. She rubbed her eyes a bit, but rather than start to wake up, as soon as we were next to our bed, she collapsed right into it. I followed suit.

The following morning, I fumbled getting my glasses back on, surprised that I had slept without taking them off, and my head almost crushing them while asleep. Once I had conquered that battle, it was time to...well, check the time. My phone read 5:31 AM, and as early as it was, I accepted it and forced myself out of bed.

As I got up, I felt the intense soreness of yesterday’s struggle. What a terrible and aching physical reminder it was. It got worse when I went down and took a shower; the hot water stung against the wounds on my sides and on my face. After getting myself dressed, I headed to my desk in the middle of the hallway and sat down. Yes, it may have been wiser to have brewed another cup of tea, or perhaps, dare I say, coffee, but I just wanted to sit and think for a little while.

What a day yesterday. For better or worse, we all made it back, and the diner is once again empty save for the five of us. While I do hope to get some customers sooner or later, I must say that I enjoy the quiet. We’ve all earned it. Now, even if some things may be different in terms of everyone’s personalities, if we are getting back to business as usual, then I ought to make a phone call.

The downside is that based on our timezones, Cybele would probably still be asleep.

I know. I’ll just send a text.

Me: It’s safe now. You can return if you’d like.

I set my phone down on the table, then almost jumped out of my seat upon seeing Remora seated across from me. Her serious expression made whatever she was there to say seem urgent.

“So, I just had a dream that we were all on a battlefield and then Demetria died and I got sad, so there’s no denying it now: I’ve got a crush on her.”

I matched her dull expression with my own.

“Remora, it’s like 6 AM,” I informed her.

“Is it? I don’t have my phone with me, so I can’t really tell the time. Anyway, I don’t see what that has to do with the dream I had, so quit beating around the bush and tell me what you think.”

Is this really all I’m good for?

“It doesn’t really sound like a crush,” I shrugged, figuring she wouldn’t give up staring until I gave her an answer, “it just sounds normal. You’d be sad if I died, wouldn’t you?”

She paused. Didn’t say a word. I let it linger for a few seconds longer, then I couldn’t help myself.

“What?! No answer?!” I spat out.

“I’m still tired,” she replied, “I have to think about this.”

I was still just a little baffled, but I let it go.

“Even if it turns out you haven’t developed a crush, like you theorize, I can still tell you’ve discovered some things about yourself, so I commend you for that. Maybe later we can discuss some of the things you’ve learned.”

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure it’s a crush,” Remora dismissed, as if she didn’t even listen to what I had to say, “but I’m going to deny it, because I already know a relationship wouldn’t work out.”

“I agree. As it stands, I don’t think either of you are ready for such things. Besides, I know how she used to be, but do you think that’s something she wants now?”

“What? That’s not what you’re supposed to say. You’re supposed to say, ‘go for it, what do you have to lose? You only live once, et cetera’.”

“I’m agreeing with something you said. Isn’t that good enough?”

“We’re friends, right, Ray?”

I put my palm over my head.

“Yes, Remora. We’re friends.”

“So you’ll tell me anything I wanna hear, right?” She closed her eyes, crossed her arms, and smiled.

“That’s not how that works.”

“I know, but can’t you just pretend?” Her smile lowered and she pleaded.

“OK. What do you want to hear?” I humored her.

She just slammed her head against the desk and groaned.

“Ugh...I don’t know. What should I do?”

“First you should get your head off my desk,” I instructed. She didn’t, at least not at first.

“Ugh...you’re so mean, Ray,” she whined before lifting her head.

“Now, you should go back to bed. You clearly need some rest.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” she blinked, her face back to the blank expression I was used to seeing on her. “What are you doing up so early, anyway?”

“I’m just sitting and thinking. I like to do it sometimes.”

“Wow. That’s such an old man thing to do. You’re not that old yet, you know,” she pointed out.

“Don’t you ever do that?”

“Only when I need to.”

“Well, then, I think you need to do some of that after you’ve gotten a little more rest. You said yourself after we got back last night that the reason she’s acting the way she is around you is because of what happened before you left over a year ago. So don’t you think that should be addressed first before any prospect of a relationship?”

“Hm. Yeah. OK. Back to bed I go.”

A few hours later, Tigershark had made pancakes with strawberry syrup for everyone. She, Sunny, and I sat together while Remora and Demetria sat alone in booths at opposite ends of the diner silence.

“So, I was thinking, hun, how we don’t really charge people for meals most of the time,” Sunny brought up in between bites of the fluffy pancakes.

“Yeah. We used to a few years ago, but there’s been many changes since then,” I replied.

“Right. But you don’t mind that we don’t charge, do you?” She pondered.

“I suppose not.”

“So I’ve got a couple of ideas: we could turn this place into a hotel and start charging. If we hire more staff, then it shouldn’t be all that stressful managing all those people. Yeah, we had to house many people already and it was awful because of the circumstances, but if people can go in and out, then it should be fine.”

“It would cost a lot of money to expand this space in order to accommodate,” I pointed out.

“Right. My other idea is: why do we need to be a business at all? Like, sure, the front half is pretty much designed like a business, but there’s nothing saying we have to. We get by just fine on our own as it is. So maybe we could provide free meals to anyone who comes in and advertise that.”

“So basically what we’ve already been doing, but announce it?”

“Yeah!”

“I won’t rule it out. Not sure if I really want the attention, but it’s an option.”

“What do you think, Tigershark?” Sunny turned to the kid.

“Hmm...oh! You could do both! Make it like a free hotel!”

I put my palm over my mouth and chuckled.

“So like a homeless shelter, but fancy...not bad, not bad. Still would be expensive to see it through, but it seems like the kind of thing Wendy would approve of. Not to mention, just like with the previous hotel idea, we’d have to hire more staff, and even if they’d live here with us, they’ll probably want to get paid for their labor.”

“Oh! Have you heard from Wendy?” Tigershark asked.

“Yeah, I talked to her last night. She’s doing fine. Just hanging out at the hospital.”

“That idea…” Sunny scratched her chin. “Tigershark, you’re a genius! It’s easy! We make lots of money by taking on requests again!”

“That’s one way...but then there’s the chance of Cronus striking at any moment. Sheesh, everything’s become so complicated.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure out something, hun,” Sunny reached across the table and gave me a pat on the shoulder. When she sat back down, I felt my phone begin to ring. I picked it up and saw that it was Cybele.

“Oh my Goddess! This is the best day ever!” Cybele gushed over the phone, her excitement at maximum capacity.

“Is it really?” I chuckled.

“Yes! I can’t wait! I’m going to head back on over right away! Oh, but what should I do about the big house? Should I sell it? Should I give it to a homeless person? Oh, but if I do that, then they wouldn’t be able to afford to pay utilities, so that wouldn’t be very fair.”

“You can sell the house, then give the money to a homeless person,” I suggested.

“Yes! Brilliant! Thank you so much, Ray!” She hung up right after, without so much as a goodbye.

“Who was that?” Sunny asked.

“Cybele. She’ll be coming back soon,” I informed her.

“Awesome! We’re getting the band back together!”

“Band? What band?” Tigershark looked at the both of us, turning her head back and forth.

“It’s a figure of speech,” I explained.

After breakfast, Tigershark and I tended to the dishes. Once we had finished, I headed back to Sunny and I’s bedroom so I could fetch myself a book to read. We had an extensive collection along multiple bookshelves, enough that if we expanded the space just a bit more, we could have ourselves our own little library.

After much deliberation, I decided to settle on a collection of Akutagawa’s short stories. His tales were amusing, if nothing else, so it should at least pass some time away.

As I made my way back downstairs, I heard some commotion between Remora and Demetria.

“We need to set boundaries! So you stay at your end of the hallway, and I’ll stay at mine!” Demetria shouted whilst holding a stick of chalk.

“But the bathroom is on your end of the hallway and sometimes I have to pee. Also, what about showering?” Remora stated her case.

“You’ll have to get creative! We’re not good around each other, and this is a good solution!”

I made my way to the bottom of the stairs, then turned to the two.

“Hey Demetria, I need to cut something, so can I borrow one of your knives?” I asked.

She looked up at me, blinked, then dug into her pocket.

“Uh, sure, here.”

I took her knife and held it up, making a slashing motion into the air.

“Yep. It’s just as I thought. The tension in the air’s so thick that you have to cut through it with a knife.”

“What?!” Demetria stomped her foot at my little theatrics. I handed her knife back to her, then smudged out the chalk line on the floor with my foot. She, of course, took issue with that. “Hey! What are you doing? I’m setting boundaries, here!”

“You’re acting like a child, is what you’re doing.”

“Am not! She started it!” Demetria pointed at Remora. I faced Remora, who then backed away a step.

“I was just trying to talk things out with her, but I understand wanting space and I’m willing to compromise, but please let me take a shower sometimes,” Remora pleaded.

“There’s the bathroom in the dining hall,” I explained, “but yes, there’s no reason to restrict what bathroom you use. That’s just ridiculous.”

“First off, when she tried to talk things out, she just made things worse,” Demetria was still going at it.

“Look, I’m fine if you guys fight with each other, but can you two not take up so much space? Sit down at a table, or go to a room and go at it there,” I told them.

“I don’t want to go at it with her, I just want us to coexist,” Remora explained.

“We can’t coexist! We’re not good around each other!” Demetria shot back.

I shook my head. This was really trying my patience.

“Maybe you’re right,” I relented.

“Ha!” Demetria gloated.

“What I mean is, if you two can’t get along, you both can leave. We don’t need any of this bickering.”

“What?! You can’t do that! I was here first!” Demetria protested.

“Technically speaking, Remora was here first,” I pointed out.

“Well I came back first!”

“Well, I’m...uh...taller?” Remora interjected in an absentminded fashion.

You do realize this isn’t a competition, right?

“I’m serious. Get along or else,” I reiterated.

“But we can’t get along!” Demetria whined.

“...You won’t have to. I’ll be in my room, so, there should be no issues,” Remora stated, then walked away back to her end of the hallway. Even if she didn’t look like one, the image of a sad little puppy conjured up.

Once she entered into her room and closed the door behind her, I turned to Demetria.

“Anything you would like to drink? Tea? Coffee?” I offered. She looked up, confused, but answered.

“Espresso?”

“Very well. Go ahead and sit down, I’ll make you some.”

I brewed a cup of espresso, then set it down for her and sat across from her at the booth.

“What gives? First you say I’m acting like a kid, and now you’re rewarding me?” She asked after taking a sip.

I smiled before I spoke.

“I figured ‘let’s have a drink’ would sound less like you were in trouble than ‘let’s have a talk’.”

“I see. It was a clever ruse.”

“Not really. So, care to tell me what I missed?”

“Nothing much,” she scoffed, “she just came up to me and said she was sorry and that she’s started to feel things. I didn’t get it and I still don’t. She asked me if we could be friends, at least until she figured things out.”

“What did you say to that?”

“I asked if it was even possible for her to be friends with someone.”

“Don’t you think that was a bit harsh? It may have hurt her feelings.”

“Does she even have feelings?”

Can you not tell?

“Sure she does,” I answered, “maybe she doesn’t express them in the same way that you do, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t. I don’t know, but I’m thinking she’s started to figure that out as well.”

“I’m sorry, then,” she muttered, then slumped her head down onto the table. I wanted to get her head off the table, but...I let it slide.

“I don’t need any apologies.”

“Well, she said in response to that, ‘I don’t know, but I’d like to try’ and so I gave in and said that I guess I could do that much. It’s just, what does she mean?”

“I think she means that she’d like to be friends?”

“But what does that mean to her? Can I really do that? It’s not like I really know what to do with friends either. I’ve never been good at that kind of stuff.”

“In that case, maybe it will be a good learning experience for both of you.”

“Why...why does anything have to be a learning experience?” She grunted, “I don’t want any more learning experiences. That’s not what I came here for. I don’t even want to like her anymore.”

“Don’t want to?” I questioned.

“That’s...you get what I mean.”

I do. It’s just that you’re trying to convince me that you didn’t say what you meant.

“Demetria,” I commanded, “what is it that you want?”

She looked up, leaned back toward the window, and looked out.

“I don’t know,” she replied.

“Because you don’t have to be her friend if you don’t want to. It wouldn’t be right if you forced yourself to, would it?”

“Look: I came back to protect you guys. She wasn’t on my mind at all. I did everything I could to get her off my mind and just move on with my life, but I couldn’t bear the thought of the rest of you in a dangerous situation beyond your control. So if for nothing else, I wanted to return for that.”

“And I thank you for that. Seeing as the cat’s out of the bag, I think it’s fair to say you know what I think of you.”

“But I wish I didn’t have to be in disguise to hear it.”

“Yes, but I’m telling you now: we all like you. Tigershark likes you, even if she might like to pick on you sometimes. Sunny took a liking to you right away.”

“I’m not interested in stealing your wife from you,” she replied and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Not what I meant, but I’m amused that you took it that way.”

She puffed her cheeks and scowled. I felt like getting a needle and popping one of her cheeks, though I doubted it would pop like a balloon.

“We’re all happy to see you back, don’t get me wrong. But you should have known that there was a chance of her coming back as well.”

“Really? I thought she didn’t care about anyone.”

“Oh, come now,” I flashed a toothy smile, “and I thought you knew better than to take people’s words at face value.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She turned to face me.

“Figure it out yourself.”

Again, she puffed her cheeks. I wasn’t going to spell it out for her, but I figured an elaboration was in order.

“Don’t get me wrong, even if she was how she was just a couple of years ago, she’d have justified it by saying ‘I’m only doing this because it’s my mess and I need to clean it up’ or something to that effect. But how is that any different than ‘I only came back to protect you guys?’”

“It’s plenty different! What? You saying I’m a liar? It was a big motivating factor! If I never heard that you guys were in trouble, I probably would have never returned. That would have been that. Like I said, I wanted to move on with my life.”

“I don’t want to put words in your mouth. You say you came back to bail us out, I believe you. And so you did and we are thankful, so now there’s nothing stopping you from moving on with your life.”

“Uh, yeah there is. Cronus is still out there and he could come back any time. What then?”

For a moment, I had forgotten that whole matter. Oh, such sweet ignorant bliss.

“It’s true he really had us on the ropes. Drove me to the point of despair, took lives right in front of me, all for the sole purpose of wearing me down. But if the same incident were to happen again, even more hopeless this time, I want to maintain compassion just to spite him. I want to learn everyone’s names, that way even if their lives end up lost to his petty game, at least they would be remembered. However, now that we have more knowledge at hand, going forward it will be that much easier to prepare. What I’m saying is that while there’s no guarantee, you shouldn’t have to hinder your future for our sake.”

“You wouldn’t be hindering my future,” she muttered.

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because if it’s something that I chose to do, then it’s on me.”

“I see. I’m just saying, you can choose to do other things. It’s true that there are times situations are out of one’s control, but you’re crafty in ways that even surprise me sometimes. If you need support, I could try and assist you in any way. Even if there’s something you want to do and you can’t achieve it, I’m just saying that I want you to have the option of trying.”

“Thanks,” she replied, then let out a dejected sigh, “she’s going to be disappointed. I’m not the same person she remembers.”

“So what? Why worry about disappointing her?”

“I’m not. I’m just saying, if she’s expecting things to go back to how they were before, she’s setting herself up for disappointment.”

“I think it goes without saying that we’ve all changed since we’ve last seen each other, but now I’m curious: how exactly have you changed?”

“First of all, I finished school. I can be a marine biologist if I want to now.”

“Good job. I’m proud of you,” I gave a little clap, “if you want to be a marine biologist, you should. There are many benefits to being a marine biologist. If you want to stay in the area, you can find an aquarium to work at and visit here from time to time. We could talk about how your job’s treating you, and how life’s been, and we can both share a good laugh.”

“I just don’t know. I didn’t get it because I want to be a marine biologist. I wanted to, once, but I don’t know. I didn’t finish school because I wanted to finish school, either, but because I didn’t want it to go unfinished.”

“So perhaps it was a pride thing less than interest?”

She either laughed or scoffed. It was hard to tell.

“Yeah. Might have been something like that. I...also killed a few people.”

That took me aback. Though not appalled, just surprised. But given where we were at, who she was talking to, she should have known that there wouldn’t be any moral condemnation.

“You and Remora have something in common, then.”

“Is this a joke to you?” She rasped.

I smiled and shook my head.

“No. At least not one I benefit from laughing at.”

“I didn’t enjoy it.”

“I doubt she enjoyed killing, either. She was just conditioned to treat it as a chore or routine. Just another assignment.” However…

“That said,” I continued, deciding not to keep my thought to myself, “there is a certain thrill she gets from intense fights, hunts, perilous situations. It may not be that she enjoys pain. Whether it be inflicting or receiving. But...it’s a rush that’s hard to satiate.”

Demetria gulped, as if she knew what I meant. Sensing that she was afraid to speak, I continued once more:

“There are things that she was conditioned to believe about herself, things that she’s told herself, that she’s had to unlearn. Then after that, there’s learning new beliefs in its place. I can’t imagine it’s easy. I’d say it’s probably been scary for her, as well, and in that process of challenging such old mindsets, she’d resist them. Maybe she’s changed since then, and she’s not the person you first had a crush on and maybe you’ve changed and you’re no longer the person she was hoping to see again, but even if that’s the case and things can’t work out between you two, I think you should still have a talk with her.”

“About what?”

I snorted, then coughed up a laughter. It wasn’t like she said anything funny, nor did it warrant a laugh, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Anything. Just say anything to clear the air. Even if nothing’s resolved after, at least it would be better than avoiding each other. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you have to, nor do you need to do it right away. If you need time, if you don’t feel ready, that’s fine. But I do think it should happen sometime.”

“It’s going to be hard to face her,” she replied, and some of the edge in her voice had diminished, in its place an aching timbre.

“I can imagine.”

“What if we try to talk, but then I snap or lash out and that just makes things worse between us?”

I shrugged.

“I’d rather than not be the case, but at least then you’d have made an effort. Forty percent is better than zero, y’know?”

“Sounds like a wasted effort if it still ends in failure.”

“No effort is wasted, dear.”

She got up from her seat without another word. Her face looked a little more relaxed, though I wondered how much that had to do with the talk and how much it had to do with the caffeine. Then again, there’s the possibility that giving her so much caffeine would have done the opposite of relaxed her and make her unable to sleep, so...my god, why did she want that? Why not some relaxing herbal tea?

After dusk, Tigershark made tartiflettes for everyone with buttered sweet rolls on the side. Again, Sunny, Tigershark, and I sat together, while the other two (no need to name names) sat far away from each other at opposite ends of the diner. Both were thankful for their meals, but they remained fixated on the food in front of them, not on anyone else, let alone each other.

Once that was said and done, I walked back to my desk, gathered up papers, and examined any possible requests or avenues in which to make money through unethical means. Just me, a middle aged man, sorting through papers. As if that was what my life had been reduced to. Even with my glasses on, the words all seemed to just bleed into each other after a while. Every little option or scheme carried with it some kind of risk, and balancing risk and reward...man, it was a stress and a half.

I reached into my drawer, hoping for a joint, but none were to be found.

Sunny must have taken them. She might even be getting higher than a hot air balloon in outer space right now. Lucky her. Can’t really blame her, either. To quote a certain little nun, we all ‘went through hell.’

Going back over to the stack of papers, I looked up and saw Demetria emerge from her room and saunter (maybe ‘saunter’ wasn’t the right word choice, but she couldn’t stop me from describing her movements that way) through the hallway. She caught my gaze and turned her head.

“You said it didn’t have to be right away, but better now than never,” she told me, before crossing the threshold into the other end of the hall.

I expected that she would have knocked on Remora and Tigershark’s door (I didn’t know where the kid was, at the moment. My suspicion was in the kitchen, either cleaning up, or baking treats for herself). Instead, I watched as before she could get to the door, she bumped her head on an invisible wall. I heard her hiss, “ow,” then slide her back down against the wall until she sat, legs folded up, and her head down.

“Figures you would put up a literal wall. You’re not really one for metaphors,” she muttered, “then again, at least you’re direct. Here I’ve been trying to keep you out of my mind and avoid you to little success.”

I figured after saying that, she’d get up and go back to her room, given that it didn’t seem to be the right time. Props to her, though. She was a persistent one.

“Funny how that works, huh? I started out all obsessed with you. I wanted you, or at least I thought I did. Well, I’m pretty sure I did. I had all sorts of fantasies you probably wouldn’t want to hear about. Somewhere around the line those fantasies faded and in their place, I just wanted to know you better. Even then, though, I was still pretty attached, and I still think I wanted you to notice me, more than anything else. Now…” She shook her head, “Ha. You don’t need the whole recap.”

She folded her arms over her legs. It was like she was trying to cradle herself, but she remained still and just held on tight.

“You probably can’t hear any of this. That’s fine, too. Maybe it’s better sometimes to talk to myself and pretend there’s someone else listening. I’d do it more often, but I don’t like the sound of my own voice.”

I watched as the illusion shattered, the wall must have come down, and in its place, Remora sat at the opposite end of Demetria, in the same position. To boot, her back was against Demetria’s.

“I only caught the last bit,” Remora spoke up, “what was the rest of it?”

Demetria, startled, but regained composure within the same sentence, replied, “I’m not going to repeat myself.”

“That’s fine. But what are you doing on the floor?”

“I came to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. I guess just to try to work something out. Figure out where to go from here.”

“Well, you don’t have to believe me, but I’m glad.”

“I’ll choose to believe you – but only because if you aren’t, it doesn’t really affect much, but if you are, then it makes things a little better.”

“But what if you believe me, but then it turns out not to be true?”

“Dammit. Why do you have to ruin this?”

“I just want to cover all the bases.”

Demetria huffed, then answered, “I think I’ll choose to believe you anyway. I know how I’ve been since we got back, but I really would like us to be on good terms as well.”

“Do you mean that?”

“What? Now you’re doubting me?”

“No. It’s just that if you didn’t want to, I’d have understood.”

“Well...when you asked about being friends, it really caught me off guard. For one, the last time the subject came up, it was how you said you could pretend if I wanted, but it wouldn’t be real. When you brought it up this time, it was ‘at least until I figure myself out’. Which means that maybe after a while, you’ll come to the conclusion that you don’t want to be.”

“I know. It’s a risk. One that you might not want to take. I can’t really say what conclusions I’ll come to or how things will turn out. But I prefer to be upfront about what’s on my mind and how I feel, and at the moment, how I feel is that I would like to try being friends with you. I think I’ve reached the point where I can say that whether it’s pretend or not is a moot point, because if I think of us as friends, then I’m going to treat it as real.”

“B-but...what does being friends even mean to you?”

There was a pause and Remora lifted her head up.

“I’m not sure. Friends are...friendly to each other? Well, that might go without saying. I know friends are people who like each other. Get along. But then there are friends who don’t get along. So I’m not sure. I feel like I should know, it just seems more vague when I try to put it into words.”

“Well,” Demetria replied, “that makes two of us. I’ve never been good at that sort of thing, myself.”

“Then...we can not be good at it together,” Remora suggested. “Maybe we can both learn.”

“But how would we do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know, either.”

“See? We can not know together.”

“But how would we both be friends if we don’t know how to be friends? That just makes no sense.”

“I know. But I think if we were both in elementary school, we wouldn’t think so much about that sort of thing. One of us would just go up to the other and be like, ‘let’s be friends!’ And either the other would say, ‘yeah!’ Or say something like, ‘ew! Go away!’”

“That’s kind of a cute idea,” Demetria remarked, “if only we had met that way.”

“Hm. I don’t know. Even as a kid, I preferred to be left alone.”

“Oh. Yeah. Me too.”

“But now we’re adults and we’ve spent so much time wanting to be left alone that –”

“– you no longer want to be left alone?” Demetria suggested as she tried finishing that statement.

“Hm. No. I was going to say, ‘even if we have some friends, we don’t really know what it means.”

“Oh. I guess that’s true, too.”

“Yeah. But I like your answer better.”

“Yeah. But your answer applies to you and mine applies to me.”

“It’s kind of nice that way, though. Each different perspectives.”

“You know, when we talked earlier, and you asked me to hug you, it felt weird, but I said sure. So I held out my arms and walked up, but then you backed away and said you didn’t think you were ready after all and I didn’t take it well.”

“It wasn’t your fault. I wanted to, too. I’ve just never been comfortable with others touching me, and even if it would have been okay, I was still a little hesitant and nervous.”

“It’s okay not to be ready. I should know better. I was just hoping that things would be different.”

“They might be, in time.”

“You know, it’s still hard. Because I want to be friends with you, I do, and I feel like I should be happy about that, but then I just think about when we talked right before we both left and it hurts. Like, I was so convinced that we had gotten closer and that you cared, and hearing you say that you didn’t, I wanted it not to be true. But you pushed harder, and I just thought ‘maybe you’re right.’ Now you’re saying ‘I don’t know’ and it’s like, nothing’s really changed, has it?”

“You’re wrong there. I’m sorry about what I said and how it affected you and it makes sense that it would hurt, but you’re wrong in that nothing has changed. Before, I was so sure it was a ‘no’ and now I’m not so sure, but I’m more optimistic, and even leaning toward the possibility that it’s a ‘yes’. It just feels messy and gray.”

“I think I can understand that. To be honest, it’s going to be awkward. Us, as friends.”

“We’re awkward people, so it’s to be expected.”

“But at the same time, you might not like who I am now.”

“Maybe. But I’d rather find that out for myself. It’s only been a couple of days.”

“You’re taking this rather well,” Demetria remarked.

“Not really. I’m just taking it.”

“Well, I’m just saying, I’m different than how I used to be.”

“I’ve changed as well, you know.”

“How?”

There are many obvious things you could say, so what is it you’ll say? I wondered. Remora lowered her head, and when she answered, it wasn’t an answer I would have expected. But then again, it wouldn’t have been her if she didn’t throw a few curveballs in between her signature style.

“If I was the old me, and I still had that job, and you were the target, then I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Demetria spoke in what was like a half mix between a growl and a tease.

“You wouldn’t even see me coming.”

“I’d like to see you coming.”

...What?

“Well, maybe with how you are now, you would. But then, maybe with how I am now, I wouldn’t mind you seeing me coming.”

This is still about a hypothetical assassination, right?

“I suppose that’s how we’ve both changed, huh?”

“It’s not much, but it’s honest work.”

“So what are you thinking about now?” Demetria asked.

“How much I have to pee,” Remora answered. “That’s why I undid the barrier, so I could go to the bathroom, but then I saw you sitting there talking so I figured I’d hold it and sit too.”

“Oh my fuck. Just go to the bathroom.”

“But we’re in the middle of a conversation. It would be rude.”

“That doesn’t matter! We can continue when you get back!”

“But then you might lose your train of thought or I might not feel like talking anymore and just head to bed –”

This is ridiculous. I’m done eavesdropping. I should’ve just left my desk the moment they started talking. Why did they have to talk in the middle of the hallway, anyway?

I got up and headed out into the front of the diner. If those two had anything more to say, they could have at it. As for me, I went into the kitchen to check in on Tigershark.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I greeted after a knock with the back of my hand.

“I made cookie brownies!” She cheered, and I saw a large casserole dish filled with brownies.

“Oh, good. May I have one?” I asked.

“You may have two!”

She put two pieces on a saucer for me and had two on her saucer as well and she jumped down from the stool she stood on and we both walked out into the dining hall and sat at a booth together.

“Mm. Good job,” I complimented.

“Thanks. I was still hungry and sweets are sweet.”

“That they are. Just don’t have too many.”

“I won’t!” She scowled. “Maybe three. Or four. But that’s it.”

We both laughed together as we ate our brownies. Just a few minutes later, Sunny walked up. She looked (not) high, and her eyes were (not) bloodshot red. I suppose she might have moved the stash elsewhere and planned to smoke them some other time.

“Hey hun, you gotta come check this out!”

“What? I’m busy spending quality time with Tigershark,” I replied. And it’s quality time because I’m not hearing about bodily functions.

“I see that, but this is important!” She urged, and motioned us to come to the back with her. Tigershark and I hopped out from our seats and followed. When we reached the hallway, Sunny pointed and went, “aww” and Tigershark and I saw what the fuss was about: Remora and Demetria were asleep, leaned against the wall, and backs against each other.

“I guess that’s what happens when you hold it in for so long,” I remarked, then, realizing I had said that out loud, added, “emotionally, I mean.”

“Aww, so adorable,” Sunny continued fawning over the scene.

“How am I supposed to get to bed tonight? They’re blocking the way!” Tigershark complained.

“It’s okay, you can sleep with us tonight,” Sunny replied.

“Tigershark,” I turned to the child next to Sunny and I, “get the broom and dustpan. There’s something on the floor.”

“Don’t!” Sunny nudged me, “leave them be.”

“Tigershark,” I continued, “I give you full permission to draw on their faces with a sharpie.’

in response, Tigershark grinned and ran off to go find one. While she was gone, I turned to Sunny.

“So, shall we head off to dreamland as well?” I offered.

“Oh yes. Two tickets, please,” she replied and yawned for added measure. We locked arms with each other and strolled up the stairs. I’d like to say that in the coming days, the dynamic between everyone improved greatly, but the truth is, it was more like slow and drunken baby steps.

#writing #stories #remoras full #settling down after a long battle #drama #comedy #slice of life #this took so long #high

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lynsunrise · 5 years ago

Text

After episode 8. Feelings...

Again thinking aloud. Expressing what I am feeling at the moment. Forgive me for causing pain. For many spoilers (I must warn you) that will be in my flow of thoughts. I have never found it so unbelievably hard to start writing what I feel. At first on Monday I thought I should type every word of pain and anguish squeezing my heart, I should have typed 100 pages of my most fierce ache, I should have done it, but the pain was so mortifying that I could not sit down for a long period of time to write just because I was absolutely restless and I still am. I never found it so hard to raise my hand above a keyboard to press those letters. Just because inside of my heart the weight of feelings was crushing me. I don’t remember if I ever was so deeply wounded and moved by a cinema creation. I have given it such a power over me, I put myself in its power. And must suffer the consequences.

I feel bitter that I could not write earlier but maybe as they say time is the best judge. And days pass, a million sensations of different caliber are flashing through my mind and heart but what is adamant in its absolutely unchangeable persistence is the deep dull pain that speaks incessantly even when the sharp one subsides a bit. This dull pain inside, it is like in the core of my heart, it reminds me of what I didn’t say, of what I should say. I am balancing among three things: anger, sadness and denial not knowing which of them really dominates. Maybe all three are there together, equally wild and implacable, and that is why it is so hard to pull myself together. This week passes as in delirium, I can hardly recognize myself. But what I have been listening to all the time inside of me, what I have heard very distinctly and clearly was the cry of my heart begging the reason to start saying something, otherwise it would simply wither because of everything it is keeping inside of it. This was like a soft painful whisper haunting me. My thoughts at first were shouting in my head, my soul was covered with heavy clouds, it was such a rainy day in it, not a glimpse of light, and now I feel like even my thoughts discourse in whisper not to disturb my perturbed spirit.

But this happens when I am at some denial stage, and it is enough for me to remember the scene of Charlotte and Sidney before he left for London to start realizing that I still am in the most prominent anguish phase of feeling.

I see so clearly, I see that scene before my eyes no matter what I do, no matter where I go. I see that it contains the message of centuries' experience of being in love of millions of people. I see in it everything... The legacy of the most beautiful books and films about true love. The visual side. Contrasts own my heart. Black and white, strength and tenderness, wistfulness and trust, agony and hope, the captivating height difference, powerful statuesque tall figure of the man and beauteous charming fragile figure of a woman, broad shoulders and narrow shoulders, hot strong hands and tender small ones… And the way they close their eyes. The longing to kiss, to embrace. To remain like this forever. To stay close like this forever. Forever. Forever. This is echoing in my mind. Always when I watch them being together I have one thought “To remain like this forever”. There is such a powerful essential deep-rooted trueness of Feeling and beauty in them, they are the quintessence of how I always imagined a true romance that I do not question myself why I have given them my heart and a weapon to destroy it or redeem it. I am a hopeless romantic. And I sense in them the true essence of Love that “moves the stars”. Man and Woman, eternal force of life and beauty. The energy of romance, of never ending infatuation, of feelings that will never feel worn out, the picture in my mind when I am completely sure that they will be as passionate and in love every day of their life as at this moment. I am looking at them and I see this image so clearly, I see them always enchanted, always feeling the incandescence of affection, every day of their life ahead, I see: they wake up every morning, they smile at each other and there is never triviality, there is never just habit, there is never dullness. There is always intensity, hot intensity of feelings. It is like the sensation of putting freezing cold and the wave of heat together, this electricity of touch, this feeling when warm skin touches cold marble and even marble becomes calescent. Eyes look in eyes, hands in hands, the perfection of face falling in love with the perfection of another face. Faces like Narcissus fall in love with themselves reflected in each other’s eyes but aren’t punished for that. Firmness soft inside and softness strong inside. A fuse of the most alluring sensations. And so much more… This is only a small extract from an endless range of most fiery thoughts running through my mind and heart. It is like trying to capture the lightning in the middle of its path. In its motion.

The most prominent evidence of my being totally under their spell is that no matter what I do I never stop feeling that dull pain in my heart talking to me all the time, pleading to be expressed at least somehow. Time passes but the pain is not moving anywhere. It is as if it has always been there, with me. Maybe it is there partly because of ever existing fear to encounter the possibility to see with my own eyes the harsh reality trying to make us more severe by “teaching us a lesson”. But if they chose Sidney and Charlotte to teach us the harsh lesson of the “reality” that often is different from what the heart wants they could not make a worse choice. Sidney and Charlotte are not the ones who should teach us that. NOT THESE TWO PEOPLE should pay the price of “portraying the cruel reality”. Not after what we sensed in them, not after what we saw, not after we saw them even for the first time. And I cannot believe they are not together. They are created for each other. In my head and in my heart they are already searching for a way to be together again. And all the Universe must help. They cannot be let down by it again.

First of all Sidney, because to not be saved this second time would be so cruel that I can hardly express it through words. What the creators were trying to tell us when posting the clip of his conversation with Tom in London and saying that Charlotte has healed him and this new man could not but save his brother? What are they trying to say to us through it now? Charlotte healed Sidney and now Sidney sacrificing himself will still be healed??! Or the thought of sacrificing himself must make Sidney content with this illusion of life? I consider that Sidney is a victim here. He saves Tom but does Tom know at what cost?.. Even if he does not, Sidney deserves happiness. Sidney sacrificed his Love for them. But why not give Sidney one more chance? Why to give these second chances to everyone besides the one who truly deserves it? They can say what they want but to leave Sidney like that just DOES NOT FEEL RIGHT. “Reality or not reality”, it does not even matter. Who cares for “reality” when such a man must be trapped? He had his portion of sadness, punishment and anguish of love in his life. Give him time to breathe. Give him happiness. He had already gone through hell, he cannot just go through it endlessly, all his life! This is what bothers me very much, very.

And I agree with what I read on Tumblr that Eliza just does not care about him, his opinion. Nothing. She only wants to win. It is an enigma for me. Cannot she see that the man is in agony near her? How cruel or absurdly indifferent in a way she is! We did not see it (scenes in London in search for money) but as it was brilliantly written on Tumblr, and I agree with it, it was like a deadlock for Sidney, he used every opportunity to avoid such a disaster I am adamant sure. Now imagine his despair… I imagine and cry. He loved E. long ago, she passed him over, he suffered ten years, he let her go. He let all the illusions of the past go. He found his true love. Love that he was waiting for all his life. And he realizes that in order to save his family he “voluntarily” must return to the hell on earth. He has an excellent heart. “The same man but much improved”. The same: willing to save, kind-hearted, honest, brave, witty. Heart able to love as few can love. Sensitive and vulnerable. Surrounded by walls to save itself from devastation. And now what? To throw this very heart in fire. For all his life. Charlotte I believe was too wounded by the fiercest pain imaginable to see that Mrs C. does not love Sidney. Now what is torturing me very elaborately is a devilish thought that if Charlotte had seen how little Mrs C. loves Sidney she could have told him not “You must not speak like that. She loves you…”. This is a hellish torment. What if…What if! But we understand it is impossible and that she was in so much pain. Poor girl!!!! Our sweetest Charlotte. Charlotte will never marry anyone else. It is either Sidney or nobody. So, with such a “realistic” end nobody gets happiness. I want to curl up in a ball and hide somewhere, when I imagine her pain after returning home and clarifying her thoughts a little more. She made him to be not a better man, she made him be himself, kind and soft. I am sure she forgave him, she is wise and she knows he had no other choices at that moment. He did not choose money. He chose the welfare of the beloved ones of the family and Charlotte understands everything. But to understand is one thing. When she will realize that Mrs C. cannot love him, does not love him, this will be agony indeed. Because his heart is in the prison of a woman that does not love him and will torment him. So there is no such illusion of consolation that Eliza loves Sidney. And I am sure Sidney feels how much Charlotte loves him. She loves him so much that she wishes to believe Eliza loves him. To know that you leave the love of your life in the prison of sadness is unbearable. He may try to lull the pain by making himself to believe that Charlotte will move on without him. She did not stop him then… But it is because she understood his situation too well. She loves him for who he is and this is torture again. Who he is, is the man who sacrifices his life basically for his close people. She knows, she sees. She loves him for all he is. And to love him so much but being forced by understanding to let go…it is like to cut the heart in two. Sidney was ready to abandon everything if she had only said but I guess we can understand why she did not. As was said by an amazing person, she is absolutely selfless. They both are selfless. Pure souls. They both are people who cannot love by halves. It means that no matter how well they understand each other, they will suffer all their lives if being apart. And this I cannot forgive. At least in my imagination I have portrayed episodes 9 and 10 and s2 when facing all deadlocks they find a way to be together.

The thought that he saved Tom and the family won't be able to “support” him all his life! Am I not right? The same situation is with Charlotte. The thought that she did not let him not to save his family…It is all sensibility, but what about the heart? The soul slowly dying inside. Shattered totally to pieces. No, it should not be like that. The creators must see this.

Also about Tom. I also understand clearly now that Sidney could not ask anybody for that money. Neither lord Babington because even he is not so rich and I cannot imagine Sidney at all asking his friend to do that, nor Georgiana because they did not reach that stage of their relationship when it can happen at all, because she does not trust him and I sometimes even think that even for Charlotte she could not do it because we simply did not have the time to pass through different stages of solving the conflict between her and the society around her, nor Esther yet because money belongs to Lady D. He must have gone through hell during that week in London. I remember Sidney's tense features of the face and intense gaze in the carriage when heading to London, he had a gut feeling but in his worst nightmares could not he imagine what will happen. As a fan was writing on Twitter “£80k would be £4.5 million”…now this sum is like a sword of Damocles over my soul. Poor Sidney! Poor Charlotte! The bright side indeed is that we have Lady Susan that I believe haven’t played her major part yet. And Georgiana who still has a lot to say. There are so many loose ends, so many stories to tell!

I am as all admirers so crushed by the end and I am also sad that Sanditon might suffer because of the low ratings of its last 20 minutes. Otherwise, the ratings are good. The acting there is outstanding as in every second of the show. It must not suffer because of its plot in the end. But I hope all this activity will help to make the creators know HOW much we love it.

Acting is superb. The quality, the power of it. It is more than one can ever dream about. Each feeling and each emotion is multilayered. So complex. There is not a single empty glance or phrase or movement. Every look, sigh, flutter of eyelashes, movement of body is charged with a lot of meaning and spiritual fire and energy of emotion. You do not feel betrayed or deceived when you stop at every step just to savour the beauty, complexity and genuiness of every emotion, every feeling. You know you can discover layer after layer, you know that each emotion has such a powerful inner background and of course it has such power because of the aesthetical perfection of the main characters.

Theo James is like a Jewel. He is Sidney, Sidney is he. He is simply created to portray him. The most mysterious, sensitive and long-suffering Austen male hero, the last Austen male hero…He is so brilliant that I lack words. His eloquent eyes, his voice, his figure…Regency era gentleman indeed. I was walking along the passages of history and came across a perfect man and never returned to the 21st century. His presence is what made Sanditon such a hit. As well as Rose's. She is so brilliant that I always lack words!! The way her voice broke in the last scene…It felt like earthquake for me. Also the way he was looking at the carriage being forced to stay behind… 💔

Whoever chose them for the role is Genius. I hope that when reading all heartbreaking comments they see how much we LOVE them and this is only the not happy ending that we are angry with. Not the show itself of course. 🙏🏻I am praying for season 2, because Charlotte and Sidney deserve to be happy, and this feels like the rightest thing on earth.✨🔥

Also I find it absolutely amazing how our thoughts complement one another, as if we fill in the possible gaps when searching for answers. Reading many outstanding analyses of my friends here, summing up thoughts, weighing opinions, reaching some unexpected depths of conclusions due to comparing my own thoughts and the wisdom of other amazing people. I am grateful for that. The Sanditon fandom is a place where my heart is at ease, all lovely beautiful supporting people, my friends are here, always ready to help. Thank you, Sanditon fandom. I learn so much from you. I love you.

Also they wrote that Sidney and Charlotte are divided for now, this FOR NOW gives me so much hope. I will cling to it with all my heart. Still cannot watch the last episode from the beginning to the end. The kiss scene is my salvation. And what a scene!.. God... 😩🔥I wish we had more!!💔😩✨

Those two most heartrending scenes deserve all possible acting awards too because they just fracture one's heart: when Sidney tells Charlotte they cannot be happy and the last scene. Their eyes say it all. The tears, broken voice, heavy sighs, crushed chests. I hope that both Theo and Rose will be nominated many times and for many awards for their outstanding performance.

😩💔

It is hard not to think about Charlotte and Sidney every time time because there is this feeling that they are ALONE in their grief and there is nobody close to know about it and who can really ease that pain and comfort them. They need each other. And we need them. 😭

Can never forget their scenes. And that last scene.

“But after all the days of despair

I will meet you up there

Between the sky and heaven”

There on that clifftop where we first kissed

That was like a miracle, a heavenly bliss

Promise me you will never forget

The day when we first met

We are divided…for now

But I believe, I am sure

We'll endure every hardship

The cruel fate has in store…

“I will be right here waiting for you” season 2!!! Come quicker!!! We need happy Charlotte and Sidney in our lives.💔💔💔 We need that. To make the world a better place. Thank you.

#sanditon #sanditon 2019 #sanditon itv #sanditon finale #sandition spoilers #sidlotte #sidney x charlotte #charlotte x sidney #sidney parker #charlotte heywood #theo james and rose williams #theo james #rose williams

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plague-of-insomnia · 5 years ago

Text

So Andre suggested I post my serial original fiction, In/Exhale, on AO3.

The thing is, I wrote season 1 in like 2012, and it was the first time I had tried to write the story for a public audience... so I would have a huge urge to re-write/Re-edit it (again)... but I honestly don’t really have the time/energy for that.

Would anyone be interested in reading it via AO3?

(In its current state. You can read it via free downloadable ebook on my site right now.)

It’s on on-going series, with three complete seasons so far, probably like 300-500K words.

I know several of you expressed interest in reading some of my original work. When I asked that question I wasn’t thinking of I/E, but it is a story very close to my heart.

Here is some info about the story from my website:

Here’s a tiny excerpt from the first episode (abridged):

Kai tried to bite back the wave of regret that swept over him. Sure, he’d lost a few years, but that was behind him. He had a future now, one he hadn’t thought would be possible, and he needed to focus on that. He’d put the past firmly behind him, and focus on the now, on the possibilities ahead of him instead. And none of these people had to know any of it, if he could help it.

It only took a few minutes to reach the third floor, and Kai shuffled out behind a couple of cute girls. He wondered if he could ever bring himself to get close to someone again. Not just in bed--he had Nikki for that, and what they had was incredible--in fact, he planned on seeing her tonight after his classes. But growing up as an orphan in a home, he'd always dreamed of having a family someday. A wife whom he loved, and who loved him, some kids. Most of his life that had been as big a fantasy as flying, but then he'd met Becca. Becca, who he'd thought could maybe be the one, who would stick with him despite everything.

Kai felt his hands balling into fists as he wandered down the hall for his first class. New start, new start, he thought, fighting his fingers' instinct to sign the words as he finally found room 312, shuffling in behind a few other students.

Room 312 was one of the large auditorium-style lecture halls on campus, with stadium seating leading up in tiered rows, divided into three sections by stairs. It was still early; class didn't start for at least another twenty minutes, so plenty of seats lay empty. Kai glanced at the front row, where there were gaps obviously intended for wheelchairs and sighed despite himself before turning his attention to the stairs and the far top back of the room. Troy had told him to push himself as far as he reasonably could, and although he had avoided stairs as a general rule for most of his life, he decided to give them a try.

Without his crutches or a handrail it was harder than it could have been, and halfway up Kai debated stopping. But he'd been trapped at the bottom of rooms like this so often in his life, and the thrill of his breath coming so easily even as his exhalations and inhalations grew quicker and shallower, encouraged him to keep going.

When he finally reached the top, he collapsed in the first available seat, staring down and reveling in his achievement. He knew it was silly, and it wasn't like he'd ever seen a mountain, but he realized this must be what it felt like to climb one and look down, admiring the view, knowing what you did to earn it. It wasn't the most practical seat for various reasons.

Kai was so lost in his own thoughts he hadn't realized a girl had sat down beside him. It was her aroma that got him first; one of the things Kai had enjoyed most since he'd been extubated post-transplant was getting his sense of smell back. She smelled delicate and floral; he couldn't quite place the exact scent, but it was subtle and lovely. A body spray, perhaps, instead of a perfume. Certainly not pungent enough to provoke an attack if this had been before.

When he turned his head, he realized she'd been staring at him, and for a moment, he grew nervous. Had his collar dipped or come undone and she could see his trache scar? He knew it was creepy looking, especially if you'd never seen anything like it before. Reflexively, he brought his fingers to his neck, and maybe she sensed she'd been staring, because she blinked, shook her head, and smiled.

"Sorry." She cleared her throat. "I'm Renee Poche," she said. Her voice was soft and sweet like her scent; clearly, she wasn't from the Midwest.

"Kai Fox," he replied, offering his hand, reluctantly dropping it from his throat.

She smiled. God, she had a beautiful smile. She was petite; it was hard to tell how tall now that they were sitting, but it was yet another indication that she wasn't from around here. Her hair was dark--almost black--and curly. Kai didn't know much about women, but it looked natural, her thick tendrils perfectly framing her face in a managed chaos he found entrancing despite the fact that Becca also had curly hair.

"That's an unusual name. You a freshman?" She asked as she pulled a notebook and pen out of her bag.

Kai flushed slightly, realizing how silly it was for his body to react this way. "Yeah." He couldn't manage to say more than that.

She flipped her desk out and laid her supplies on it, smiling the whole time. "I'm an architecture student, so my program's five years. I'm a second-year right now. But I put off most of my core classes last year, so here I am."

Kai grinned despite himself. He wanted to touch her curls, feel their softness on his skin, never stop smelling her unique floral scent. His stomach churned and he knew immediately he wanted to know more about her--everything. Suddenly, his chest grew tight, and his face paled. No. This hadn't happened since. . . . Reflexively, he dropped his hand to his right pocket, feeling the inhaler beneath his palm.

"You OK?" Her face was so concerned and sincere, and she'd reached for him, placing a warm, tiny hand on his arm.

He stared at it, forced himself to take a few slow breaths, realizing he was OK. They'd experimentally grafted the most important nerves, so he had more sensation than most transplant patients, but it was different than before, something he was still getting used to. The tightness could have been his imagination. How was it that this girl he hardly knew, whom he'd just met, could make him feel so off kilter? He eased his lips into a smile to reassure her and give backing to his words.

"Yeah. Sorry." He swallowed. "First day jitters, I guess," he added with a bit of a blush.

She laughed, a musical, lilting sound that made him grateful for his hearing. "So what classes are you taking this semester?"

Kai thought a moment. "World History I, English Comp, Intro to Philosophy, Intro to Psych."

The professor had arrived and was setting up for the lecture, writing "World History I, H101, MILLER" on the white board.

"Me too," she said. "I mean, I have those same classes. We should sit together in them, too."

Kai felt a warm flutter in his stomach. "I'd like that."

Renee looked as if she were about to say something else when the professor cleared his throat and began to speak. He was a short, chubby, bearded man, or perhaps his height was an illusion created by the distance, dressed almost stereotypically in khakis, simple button-up, and tartan sportscoat with brown patches on the elbows.

"Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to World History I. This course will fulfill your common curriculum requirement, but only if you study hard and pass my exams."

Kai knew he should be taking notes, but he'd nearly forgotten himself, so entranced by Renee, so he fumbled for his bag to grab a notebook and his own pen. It could have been his imagination, but she seemed to be casting glances at him every few minutes, smiling the entire time.

"Many people ask, 'why study history?'" Professor Miller leaned on his podium as if he were studying the class, taking everyone in one by one. With nearly three-hundred students in this section, there was no way he could know them all, and Kai knew he and Renee were just two in a sea of faces. "Of course, the easy answer is 'because then we're doomed to repeat it.' However, I think life is far more complicated than that."Professor Miller abandoned his podium and crossed so he was nearer to the first row of students, laying one arm across his stomach and balancing his opposite elbow in the palm of his hand, supporting his chin on his fist. "I believe that the past, however behind us it may seem, is never truly gone." Miller again searched the faces in the crowd, and for a split moment, despite being dozens of feet away, Kai felt as if their eyes met, and his pulse quickened, nervous, but not sure exactly why. He glanced over at Renee, partially so he didn’t have to look at the professor, and partially to simply steal a peek at her. She had her head bent over her paper, as if she were taking notes, but he could see from here her page was blank.

"The past is always a part of us, and as much as we may like to forget that, not only can't we, we mustn't." Professor Miller nodded his head, then turned his back on the audience.

Kai knew Miller wasn’t speaking to him, couldn’t be speaking to him, but why did his words feel so personal? And why couldn’t one forget the past? Kai had done it before, shifting dark memories into the deep recesses of his brain, never talked about, never thought about. Why should now be any different?

#in/exhale #query #original fiction #writeblr

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pumahat · 5 years ago

Text

The End of Eternity.

The first chapter to a story I am writing. Please Enjoy.

I hate executions. Simple as that.

Walking down The Grand Basilica’s Western Hallway, Doffer Mao pondered, By the all the gods out there, why does this hallway have to be so long? Maybe there was a point in it, the agonizingly long walk did seem to give prisoners enough time to reflect on their ‘sins’ as they were led past dozens of paintings and statues depicting the ‘glory’ of the Mages. It very well could be the case, but as the Grand Mage of fifteen years, it’s unlikely Mao would ever know what went through the minds of those soon to be purified. Then again, Mao realized, this was a hallway exclusive to master mages.

After some time admiring the ancient masterpieces of the western hallway, Mao finally approached the large ebony doors at the end of the road. He smirked. And I shall look upon them and dub ‘The Black Gates of Death’. Knocking four times, Mao patiently waited for the doormen to let him into the chamber. Four minutes of dull silence was broken by the soft groaning of the ancient doors. The doors; ancient and still strong, fifteen feet tall, each five feet in width, and five inches of solid ebony wood; masterpieces in their own respect. Although not ornately designed like the rest of the Basilica, the doors held an ominous, almost demonic aura to them. Pitch black doors leading to hell.

Mao remembering his history lessons from decades ago, knew that the wood for the doors were taken from the oldest and largest of the ebony trees of Gods Grave to the east. The cutting of these trees was blasphemy at the highest level to the ‘pagans’ who worshipped the old gods of nature, but a fitting symbol of domination from the heavily Heratik[1] Mages Guild. Even after witnessing these doors open more times than he can count, it was always astonishing to watch the three men it took to open each door, and even then, the process was slow.

“My dearest apologies for the wait, Grand Mage.” huffed the shortest of the young apprentices in charge of manning the doors. From the nervousness of the apprentices’ face, Mao assumed that he was new, not used to approaching the grand mage.

“Nonsense child. You’ve done your job as was instructed,” He paused before adding: “Next time you’ll be a bit faster, yes?” as he passed the apprentice, Mao placed a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder and strutted past, glancing at the expectedly stunned face nodding back at him. In the thirty years as a member of the Mages Guild, Mao has never met another ranked Mage who really respected the apprentices. Most mages who get ranked past adept more often than not acquire a distasteful superiority complex, a curse that makes many see themselves as ‘above’ simply because they held the title “Mage,” they let power get to their head. He knew that this pride is what prevented many from rising higher in the Guild, pride is the pillar and the ceiling. Laughing to himself at the thought of the apprentice that manned the door taking Mao as a role model, he entered the waiting chamber.

Striding through the great ebony doors into the waiting room, towering over everyone else with long graceful strides and gaunt stature, the Grand Mag Doffer Mao stood out like a redwood in a forest of beech, a giant amongst men as the saying goes. Without stopping, Mao promptly approached the small dull door at the end of the waiting room. Placing his hands on the magical seals locking the door, he focused energy from deep within his core out towards his fingertips. Pouring raw power into the ethereal manometer[2], Mao spun and twisted the magic circles of the manometer into varying positions and altering their sizes to create an intricate design, the deep scent of lilies filled the immediate vicinity as the room hummed with gentle green light. After several minutes, he stopped pouring magic into the manometer and pushed gently on the symbol of a gyrfalcon engraved in the center of the door. The symbol twisted and melted into the door, granting him access as the magic circles dissipated into the void. The magic seals were designed to give access only to those who could accurately release the proper amount of magical pressure while completing a complex series of magical puzzles, a feat only those with skills above that of a Grand Master could accomplish.

Once unlocked, the dull doors shimmered and melted away revealing themselves to be made of pure white mithril. The doors glowed like the full moon in the dark waiting room, with the floating everspark sconces as dim stars in the night sky. The radiant doors stood just as beautiful as the day Mao first set his eyes on them. These doors depicted various Guild stories; from men discovering the arcane arts, to the conquering of the Corellan continent, to the building and completion of the Grand Basilica as it is today some five hundred years ago. Yet for all their beauty, they could not hide was ugliness beyond.

Entering his private viewing area, situated several feet over the rest of the arena, Mao scanned the chamber with his mismatched eyes; one a pale sapphire, another a brown so dark it was almost black. Although called the Chamber of Purity, there is nothing pure about it. The entire arena was suffocated by the stench of charred flesh and dried blood that seeped out of every crack.

Sitting down on a monstrosity of a red velvet Mao couldn’t help but hold back his urge to vomit. The rotten stench of death. According to the Mages Manifesto, the Chamber of Purity can only be cleaned during the equinoxes and solstices, when (according to scripture) ‘the One True Goddess was close enough to see the blood of her enemies washed away along with their sins.’ An old barbaric concept that Mao has petitioned to remove from legislation time and time again but has always faced resistance from the Grand Jury; the Judicial and Legislative body of the Guild. At the very least, the logic behind this is more colloquially known that the cleaning calendar is based around natural energy levels and the aligning of celestial bodies, like how legally the world is flat, but every educated human knows it is a sphere.

Taking up the entirety of the Grand Basilica’s Western Wing, the chamber itself could easily fit close to a hundred comfortably throughout its colosseum-like seating arena. The large domed ceiling was roughly a hundred feet high. Ancient spells etched into the stonework caused the ceiling to seemingly to vanish, summoning various types of clouds and weather phenomena that could be altered through spells and magical auras. The only thing that broke this illusion of a roofless chamber was the ‘Eye of Judgment’, a wretched mechanical monstrosity of magnifying glasses and rune-etched metal, a reversed telescope of sorts, that was situated slightly off of the center of the dome. As Mao looked up at the Eye, he felt as if it was the eye of the heavens, with whatever gods up there looking down upon the world heavy with divine judgement.

Normally only the Jury, Mao, and twenty or so Master candidates were granted access to the chamber, except, this time, in addition to the usual suspects, some nearly fifty expert and adept level mages as well as a handful of the absurdly ornate True Goddess Clergymen occupyed the rest of the normally sparse seating arena. Someone wants to make a show of this, He thought, analyzing the situation. Based off of the current political climate, it was most likely a statement against the Cast Movement. Mao resisted the urge to bite his fingernails. I can think of no one else who would waste this much time and resources for such a trivial thing other than our Supreme Judge. Ah! And there he is, waltzing in.

Slamming through the air like thunder breaking the silence, Supreme Judge Clivus Corduroy roared in his deep booming voice calling the attention of all in attendance.

“Today! My fellow mages, we once again are blessed to witness the purification of another disgusting Eternal. Today on the seventh day of First Harvest, in the year twenty-nine eighty-seven after the Last Storm, we are joined by not just our brothers, but by several esteemed members of the True Clergy. With their presence let it be known that our journey to cleanse the world is truly just and filled with divine purpose. Now as the sun approaches her peak, let us bring forth the wretched Creature.”

‘Wretched’ doesn’t even start to describe what was once a man, Mao said to himself.

Dragged out by chained limbs, stripped of the decency of both hair and clothing, the prisoner was less of a man and more of a pile of bones held together in a thin bag of worn, lifeless skin. Mao couldn’t see much of the prisoner from this distance and requested a zoom scope from a nearby servant. When it arrived, he found the Creature to be more disturbing than he had thought.

The Creature hunched over, stood no taller than the two guards dragging him in, each of which were of average height and build. Although if he had been standing straight, Mao guessed that he would’ve easily towered over everyone in the room by a full head, most likely the same height as himself.

Gaunt, atrophied limbs hung down from his empty torso like ropes, no strength left in his body to even move them. Mao shuddered to himself at the level of abuse the Creature was clearly subjected to. His fingers and toenails ripped off; bulbous and red lash marks throbbed with little time to. Tattooed across his body were ornate pagan symbols of fire, one side of his body representing life, the other representing death, elegantly faded from age and damaged with torture scars of blades and lashes. It was castrated, burned, clearly strangled, stabbed, and beaten. It has died several times already. But what truly revolted Mao was the discovery that the Creature was covered in an unusual amount of spider veins. At first, Mao guessed that it was somewhere around the mid-thirties to early forties but looking closer he realized that they weren’t ordinary spider veins; unlike the normal blue that came with age, they were a bright unnatural green: the telltale sign of magical torture.

This form of torture was banned by the Guild twenty-five years ago, it was deemed unethical due to the extreme process of forcibly shooting waves of raw magic into the victim’s blood stream. Once forced in, the victim was subject to the full manipulation of the owner of said magic becoming puppets on strings. You could break bones and force them back together you could tear muscles and force them to keep moving, anything you wanted to do to the victim was in the realm of possibility. Once injected with the magic the victim became yours to control.

“You sick bastard, Clivus,” Mao cursed under his breath.

Focusing back on the scene unfolding before him, Mao looked into the Creature’s empty defeated eye. They didn’t seem to notice anything in the room around him. Yet something strange happened as the Creature was moved to the center of the arena. His empty eyes suddenly filled with flames of purpose as they looked directly at Mao- no, not at Mao, rather they looked into Mao, into his very being and soul. His heart caught in his throat; his eyes locked in an embrace with the Creature’s now beautiful deep amber eyes. He felt the urge to speak, to answer the voice that called to him in his mind. It tried to show him something, a name, a face, something was there. He could feel it was on the verge of existence in his mind, like the first rays of light of the rising sun. “Serve me” it spoke, and what could Mao do but accept?

In that exact moment within moments, the sun’s beams flooded into the arena through the focusing lenses of the Eye of Judgement. It was a dazzling spectacle, beams of refracted lights moved throughout the arena. With each passing beam, warmth flooded into the arena. The crowd was entranced, they gasped in wonder and joy, murmurs could be heard throughout the crowd. As everyone stared in wonder at the beams of light, Mao couldn’t help but stare at the poor Creature. That’s when he felt it.

“By the gods…” Mao whispered as his attention drew from the Creature’s amber gaze to Mao’s own hand. Slowly branding him was the symbol of the Fire Djinn Agni, the two faces of fire. Life and Death. Creation and Destruction. Light and Shadow. A balance. As he was about to lift his hand to the sun to look at the newest addition to his tattooed body, he found he didn’t need to shine a light upon it, as the brand itself glowed like dying embers. Forcing his eyes off of the wonder appearing on his hand, he looked back at the Creature. But no more did those intense amber eyes look at Doffer Mao. Now they gently closed in peaceful acceptance of his fate. Though this creature was barely human, he still retained his dignity.

Slowly the Creature was shackled to the X-cross in the center of the arena by his hands and feet. Then doing the honors himself, Supreme Judge Clivus Corduroy marked on the Creature three points with ink. A dot on the forehead, a dot on the heart, and a dot below the sternum. Representing Mind, Soul, and Body, respectively; the three aspects of existence. Once Corduroy retreated back to the control panel situated close to the Eye, the purification began.

Using the magic of the twenty master candidates, the Eye of Judgment was adjusted, aimed, and focused. The light of the sun splitting into three concentrated beams of light each precisely aimed over the three corresponding ink dots on the Creature’s body. Slowly the candidates began chanting and drawing magic circles in the air, pouring their magical energy into the 3 beams of light. As the energy flowed through the beams the Creatures skin began to blacken into charred flesh.

“More power! Make him scream!” barked Corduroy, his eyes a firestorm of rage. Following the Supreme Judge’s order, the candidate’s skin began to glow with their focused power, the air filled with magical pressure, and the dust off the ground began to stir into wild tornadoes dancing across the floor. The scents of charring flesh, rotted corpses, and magical essence was a medley of aromas unlike anything else in the known world. Soon enough the charred skin flaked away revealing a bubbling broth of melted muscle and boiling blood. Yet the Creature did not scream.

As frustration and anger filled the Supreme Judge and the candidates, the room of onlookers began to join in. The mob’s fury was a raging inferno, while the Creature, in stark contrast was at peace. Unable to believe his own eyes, Mao drew and casted a magnification spell onto the zoom scope to get an even better look at this Creature. Quite audibly, he gasped to himself in disbelief. Looking at the rage and frustration in Corduroy’s face Mao chuckled to himself. The bastard is truly crazy, He thought. Gripping the arms of his chair, Mao was at the edge of his seat. It was a rare event to see something defy the Supreme Judge Corduroy for this long and watching the anger and frustration flow from his colleague’s face brought a sick pleasure from Mao, he was almost rooting for the prisoner to retain his strength. His face grinned a grin he hasn’t felt in decades, not since he was back in his adventuring days has Mao felt this much excitement.

As much as he hated it, he wanted it to last an eternity. The screams of Corduroy bellowed like the sweet sound of the pipe organ Mao played in his youth. Mao was lost in this sick pleasure. Then came blood curdling scream that disrupted both Mao’s pleasure and the roaring of the crowd.

The Creature writhed in pain. His tensing muscles straining against the leather restraints, fingers moving in a sporadic repetition between a death grip and being sprawled out in all directions. Its torso flailing left and right shaking with so much force that the cross struggled to hold the pained Creature. The Creature struggled more and more to move with the dance of death, his convulsing head slamming against the headboard with so much force that boiling blood seeped from the head wound. Mao could imagine it now, seeing with his mind’s eye as Judgment’s Eye cooked the Creature’s skull like a boiled egg.

Wondering why the Creature is reacting only now, Mao scanned the arena. He noticed that some of the candidates began chanting hyper-sense tomes, designed to increase one’s overall awareness, but in this case altered so that the chant focused one’s pain receptors. The Creature had been resisting death with its fire magic, only now, that protection slowed the inevitable.

This scene of terror went on for almost half an hour before it lost both its strength and its will to live. Slowly but surely the beams of light empowered by the magic of twenty master candidates bored three precise holes through the Creature. It’s lifeless corpse still suspended to the cross by its arms and legs. As the beams of light faded away, judgment has been cast and the room of rage because a chamber of holy silence. Melted meat dropped from the corpse, muscle beneath the skin was noticeably torn and ripped, leaving strange indents and gorges in its charred flesh. The Creature’s amber eyes had long since bubbled and melted away, leaving empty sockets infinitely deeper in strangeness. Smoke radiated from flesh that had turned to smoldering piles of ash. The Creature’s final death was marked by countless others.

After several long minutes, it was the deep brooding voice of Supreme Judge Corduroy that broke the silence.

“Brothers, clergymen. The deed,” he paused. “…Has been done. Another blasphemous Creature purified from this world. We Mages have done our part in this holy cleansing. Now let us leave the final prayers to the clergymen who have joined us today on this momentous occasion.” Pausing and scanning the room, letting the clergymen speak their holy prayers in ancient Mottenese, Corduroy noticed the disappointment on Mao’s face and held his head high.

After the prayers finished, his voice boomed once more. “Today was more than just the purification of another pagan beast, today is the day we show our strength to the world. Today we show that these ‘Eternal Hosts’ are not people like some would claim. Neither are they the weapons of world domination that the Tyrant to the east want us to think. And they are not eternal. No, these Creatures are no more than rabid beasts, beasts that defy the laws of nature and the laws of Holy Truth. And what do men of logic, men of holiness, men of power do to rabid beasts?”

“We put them down! We punish their sins! We purify their souls!” the mob roared in delightful unison.

“Yes! My brothers and clergymen, today we denounce Lord Cast’s ideas that the Eternal Host’s should be weapons of war. Today we denounce Jordane’s belief that they deserve the same rights as us, the pure. Today we denounce the Eternal Host’s and all those who support them!” Corduroy boomed.

Oh great, he’s talking about me.

“Today my friends, we shall unite our forces with the One True Church and purify this land. Today is when we ask of the Empire to join us and help us purify all of the known world in the name of the One True Goddess! The Goddess of Truth!” The Supreme Judge concluded with deep finality.

Roars of excitement and blind allegiance moved through the crowd like the waves of the sea. The tide of their energy pushed and pulled with the movements of Corduroy’s body. Soon enough the crowd was a mind of its own, Corduroy’s seeds of destruction had taken root. A coy smile flashed on Corduroy’s face. Mao could do little to reverse what he had started; Mao was but one man with little to no allies that could help. Not even all the power and influence he had would be of help now, this was not a matter of magic or politics; this was people falling into the age long plague of rage and hatred. Simple, pure, and near impossible to break let alone bend.

Time was of the essence, and to Mao there was not enough time to get everything done. He needed to act fast before Corduroy could have time to strike. This was a different type of battle. Corduroy had taken the first step, now everything depended on how Mao responded. He could cower in the corner and let Corduroy take the lead, or he could strike back. He moved before he had the chance to even contemplate the possible risks and rewards for either choice. Thinking won’t be enough for this task. It was time to step out of the spotlight and into the shadows.

Being the Grand Mage for decades, Mao has gained too much notoriety within the capital. His face was already known as well as his disposition against the unification of the church and guild. Precautions would already be in place in order to either coerce Mao into submission or to eliminate him as a threat. That final speech was simple, it labeled Mao as an enemy of the new world. He had felt this time was coming, but he did not expect it to be so soon.

He needed to leave the city and go underground. From there, his action could go more unnoticed. A big fish in a small pond made too many disturbances, but out by the sea they would be little more than ripples amongst the crashing waves. Quickly moving out of the arena before the crowd dispersed, Mao moved through the Grand Basilicas halls and stairways. Although the path was roundabout and at many points he moved in circles, he needed to cover his path. Confuse the Jury and their pawns before they could be moved into positions likely to end in checkmate. After some time, he began smudging his trail. Within the palace walls it was impossible to completely hide his trail, powerful spells ingrained in the walls, ceilings, floors, and foundations of the Basilica tracked movement of everyone within. Mao knew this as well as some counter measures. It’d buy him some time, and that was all he needed.

Like time mended a wound into a subtle scar, Mao did the same to his trail, dulling it and confiding it to only the immediate vicinity. Although not completely gone, at a glance one would look right over it. He hoped. It’s never a sure thing, some people like trained mages may be looking for tricks like this; others, usually palace guards untrained in the magical arts, would look for the blatantly obvious. He hoped the latter would be sent after him.

In the center of one of the hallways in the eastern wing, somewhere around three quarter’s down the hall’s length Mao placed his hand on the wall by the tips of his fingers palm up and rotated his hand counterclockwise. Just as the seal unlocked, Mao could hear the movement of people down the hall. Quickly Mao walked through the seal as if he walked through the wall itself. Once through, he spun around and quickly placed his hand back in the place he left it off on the other side, palm down, and turned it back clockwise, resealing the door.

With a sigh of relief, the aging Grand Mage pressed his back against the now solidified wall. He could hear the soldiers moving on the other side of the wall as if it were paper thin, but they would never be able to hear him from his side. Although simple in theory, he had used a very powerful and complex spell in order to guarantee that he remained hidden from the palace’s watchful eyes. The spell itself simply locks whatever the caster wants and can only be opened by the caster or whoever knows the exact steps to open or manipulate the seals. Simple yet effective. After enough time went by, Mao had decided that he had regained some energy and began the long descent down the stairway in front of him.

Suddenly thoughts of fire began blasted into his mind as his branded hand began to glow and sizzle with heat. He knew what was happening. He needed time to research, before it gets out of hand. I must keep moving.

Down and down he went for what seemed to drag on without end. An ancient spiraling staircase built into the earth marked the secret entrance into Yggdrasil, an underground labyrinth of tunnels and passageways that spread out across the continent. Through here Mao knew he could escape without being followed. The vast tunnels were essentially invisible to magic. According to rumor, when the Guild and other groups decided to map the vast tunnel system during the war against the Native Corellans some three centuries ago, they discovered that the tunnels themselves were naturally absorbent of magical energies. This meant that any magic used from within the tunnels would die out extremely quickly. He hoped these were more than just rumor, he needed to hide from arguably the most powerful source of magic on the continent.

The wheels of change slowly began to turn, no matter what Mao could do, he was only one man. He needed to act, he needed to succeed. Unfortunately, the people of the Empire had to wait for his help, for now what needed to be done could not wait. Staring down at the mark on his hand, he felt an urge, a tugging as if someone were pulling him gently by a string. The job of guardian and guide, and slave, has been pushed into Mao’s arms, he recognized the signs.

Shit.

It was called the Calling, something he’s only read of down in the archives of the Basilica, but without a doubt this was it. From what he could remember the Calling is a form of magical bonding created between an Eternal Host and their target, it was a string of fate- no matter how far the two that are bonded go from each other they are connected. Now the descriptions written down were vague and honestly sounded like a bunch of ramblings of a madman, it went something like …Once the host and target are bonded through time and space, the minds are melted. Not through thought but through feeling, through urges and power. Magic. Strength. Emotions will guide your way, and where your emotions falter so will the body… The general gist Mao was sure he would further understand with time. For now, the issue with the Empire, Church, and Guild had to wait. As a matter of fact, Mao realized that if he let the three fight amongst themselves, he may be able to have more time to find the new Eternal Host and… and what? Keep them safe? Mao wasn’t sure what would happen, maybe in time if he cannot find the new Host, the pain of being apart would turn Mao crazy, maybe it would kill him, maybe it would drive him to kill the new Host. Maybe it would do nothing at all, if the Host never truly awakens, Mao guessed he could live with the subtle burning in his hand.

Unlike most people in the Empire, Mao never found any reason for the hatred and prejudice towards Eternal Hosts, it wasn’t their choice to be given the powers that they have and as a result they were to be systematically executed. It was punishing before there was a crime. It was fear. Eternal Hosts are beings between existences, Humans are beings of the mind, Animals of the body, and Eternals of energy and the spirit. A Host was the combination of them all.

Reaching the bottom of the stone stair, he sat and caught his breath. I’m forty for the fuck’s sake, I’m not built for exercise. He groaned at the strain of getting back on his feet, stretching his legs, and cracking his spine brought some relief to him. Sighing, Mao moved toward the entrance of the tunnel, and picked up one of the old torches from off the wall.

At first, he tried to ignite the torch on his own but remembered that the tunnels would suck up any magic in them. It wasn’t pitch black down there, there were luminescent fungi and glowing veins of earth magic throughout the tunnel and small cavern that made up the room he stood in. He suspected that the source of the magical absorption may be from these glowing veins, but he couldn’t be sure as the Guild ceased research on the tunnels two centuries ago when faced with conflict from the arriving Akarrans lead by Lord Akira. Yet the prospect of a torch’s warmth brought a smile to his face, Mao unfortunately left his favourite winter robes back in the High Keep of the Basilica, the thought never occurred to him that the tunnels would chill to the bone, it seemed age had taken his wits from him as well as his strength.

After some time, Mao’s search for something to help ignite his torch came up fruitless. Resolved, Mao quickly ignited a flame hovering over the palm of his hand and in a swift stroke ignited the torch. It took to the flames quickly and soon it was healthily ablaze. Before he could let anymore magic become drained from himself, he quickly cut off the flow of energy into the flame and, like a Gaslamp, the flame winked out of existence leaving Mao alone in the cave with only the light of the torch and the glowing mushrooms to keep him company. The feeling of the magic being sucked out of him was astonishing, he could only describe it as if the air he breathed slowly became… less. It was a feeling he didn’t want to keep on experiencing, but it became evident that he would have to repeat this process of quickly igniting torch for warmth several times before he would find a looters city or an exit out into the wild.

As a First Rate pyromancer, he knew he could last quite a while repeating this process. Granted he didn’t like the feeling of his magic sucked out of him like drinking out of a straw, but it was necessary.

Hours went by down in the tunnel and there was no end in sight, forks in the road occurred every now and then but generally they were marked up in the old tongue which Mao could read. He relished the idea of not seeing any signs of civilization for a while, it left him alone with his thought, time to think without really thinking.

For the thousands of years that the Guild has stood, it was the center of learning. It was where knowledge was unrestricted, as long as you had the skill to understand it. It was where magic flourished, and where logic was the most important trait a mage must have. But ever since Corduroys’ ascension to Supreme Judge ten years ago, the Guild has become more and more religious. More and more irrational zealots fill the halls that once nourished logic and thought. The fate of the Guild was all but certain as of today. No more would the Mages Guild be the center of the learned, now it will be the training ground for Battle-Priests and holy warriors built to cleanse the world of arbitrary threats like the Eternals, who are simply people born with immense magical capabilities. Thinking this much was more too much work for Mao to do right now, his day has seemingly never ended and continuing this walk now would do him little.

After finding a small cave hidden by an old mine cart, Mao decided this would be his place of rest for a while. The cave was little more than a hole in the wall barely big enough for him to lay down but offered much needed privacy in the unlikely event some vagrant or traveler walked by, so it sufficed. As he lay there, resting on a pile of smooth stones with only the light of the glowing mushrooms keeping him safe from the darkness of the cave, he found that instead of worrying about the impending war, or pondering about what uncertain future lay ahead of him, or planning his next move in the great game, he dreamed of fire.

End of Prologue.

[1] (her-Ah-tick) The major religion of the Mott empire. The belief in the “One True Goddess, Hera, otherwise known as The Mother.”

[2] Device that measures pressure levels

#fantasy #OC #story #writing project #game of thrones #wip #scifi #lord of the rings #creative writing #young writer #new writers on tumblr #series #amwriting #editing #creative #indie authors #originalwriting #My writing

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thephoenixmagician · 5 years ago

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Rhea Orasa || Character Survey

@cela-astral-projection - who presented a really awesome survey I couldn’t help but steal.

This is going to be long, so it’ll all be under the cut!

Basic Questions

First name?: Rheanna

Surname?: Orasa

Middle Names?: Elizeàn

Nicknames?: Rhea (her preferred name), Elize (by Mazelinka only)

Date of Birth?: March 28th

Age?: During the time of the Game, about 24.

Physical Appearance

Height?: 5’ 9”

Weight?: In the 160s

Build?: Hourglass.

Hair Color?: Vivid pink.

Hairstyle?: Usually leaves it down and curly, but might put in the effort to style it with braids or clips on occasion. Only straightens it on the rarest of occasions.

Eye Color?: Left eye is royal sapphire blue, the other is emerald green.

Glasses or contact lenses?: She doesn’t need them, or so she’ll insist. She might squint if something is just a little too far. She should wear them to read books or whatnot, but won’t.

Distinguishing facial features?: Her eyes, obviously. They just aren’t common, even where she’s from.

Which facial feature is most prominent?: Plump-ish lips, they’re a… favorite among the people she’s been with.

Which bodily feature is most prominent?: Her posture. She can’t quite get rid of the habitual sitting up straight and walking with her shoulders squared.

Other distinguishing features?: Stretchmarks on her hips, shoulders, thighs -she loves them.

Skin?: On the pale side. Has freckles, but more so on her cheeks and shoulders.

Hands?: Slender, with soft callouses from the years of grinding herbs and stripping bark. Always keeps her nails relatively short and neat.

Makeup?: She doesn’t mind on occasion. Eyeliner especially really makes her eyes pop. Won’t say no to eye shadow every now and then either.

Scars?: Plenty all over. The most notable of them are the long, thin ones zigzagging across her back from lashings and a branded sigil on her left hip.

Birthmarks?: Has one near her navel, very faint and looks like a heart to her.

Tattoos?: She’s got a few. One is a simple amaryllis flower that she’d gotten to honor her mother. And another in the center of her back is a replica of a magic circle used in rather powerful spells.

Physical Handicaps?: Occasionally has issues with her shoulder, a result from taking an arrow.

Type of clothes?: She’ll wear whatever, honestly, regardless of who it’s meant for. She’d rather be comfortable over everything though.

What are their feet like?: Kinda small, but soft. She’s got a scar on the bottom of one from stepping on glass once.

Race / Ethnicity?: They’re based of Danish or Norwegian for the most part. I haven’t put too much thought into it, really.

Are they in good health?: For the most part. Her mental health isn’t always in the best shape, but otherwise she’s alright.

Do they have any disabilities?: No.

Personality

What words or phrases do they overuse?: She uses the word “fuck” a lot. The girl can make even Julian blush with her swearing, but she keeps it in check for the most part. Otherwise, she’ll overuse

Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?: She’s learned to be more optimistic.

Are they introverted or extroverted?: Introverted, but she’ll whip out an extroverted persona when needed.

Do they ever put on airs?: No. She’s too blunt. You get exactly as expected with her.

What bad habits do they have?: Sitting very ‘chaotically’ everywhere, no matter if its in a chair, on the table, atop a fence, or wherever she happens to find herself.

What makes them laugh out loud?: She’ll burst into laughter if Faust whispers a suggestion for crime to her. They’re truly partners in crime.

How do they display affection?: She loves to be affectionate physically. Will trail her fingers up your arms and through your hair if you let her. Uses a lot of Latin pet names and presses her forehead to yours, a sign of love and deep vulnerability. Or, she’ll get gifts. Honestly, she’s fluent in whatever ‘love’ language you speak.

How do they want to be seen by others?: Normal.

Strongest character trait?: Loyal as hell.

Weakest character trait?: No self preservation at all. She’s very reckless.

How competitive are they?: She’s very competitive, but she’ll deny it.

How do they react to praise?: If it’s genuine, she’ll melt. On a rare occasion, she might even blush. But she’ll quickly recover and whip out that top energy to give her own in return.

How do they react to criticism?: She’s indifferent, really. She’ll listen to them, say thank you, and move on with how she sees fit. She might heed to it if it’s constructive to her.

What is their greatest fear?: Losing her memories again ties with being buried alive.

What are their biggest secrets?: Her heritage and status as next in line for a throne. Nadia had always known. Lucio figured it out later, but never spoke about it (surprisingly). But for everyone else Rhea left that part out every time when she talked about her past.

What is their philosophy of life?: “Commitment, resilience and perseverance will take you far.”

What haunts them?: The fact she blinded her sister. She’ll never get over that. And her mother’s execution.

What will they stand up for?: Whoever needs it. And she’ll always fight for the people.

Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy?: Outdoors.

What is their sinful little habit?: Will indulge in certain herbs... It helps her relax.

What sense do they most rely on?: Sight

How do they treat people better than them?: Equals.

How do they treat people worse than them?: Equals.

What do they consider an overrated virtue?: Obedience.

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?: Her heritage and the fact she’s supposed to lead an entire country.

What is their obsession?: Books and pretty things.

What are their pet peeves?: Arrogance. Loud chewing. Leaving shoes out in the middle of the walkway.

Friends and Family

Is their family big or small?: Relatively small. It was just her mother, father, little sister, and herself. She had never met or heard of any other blood family members from either side.

What is their perception of a family?: It doesn’t have to be blood. She considers her friends family. She considers Salasi the Baker her family. It’s whoever she cares about and would do anything for.

Do they have siblings? Older or younger?: Just Adara, who is 2 years younger.

Describe their best friend.: Which one?

Ideal best friend?: Someone she can be wholly comfortable with.

Do they have any pets?: Do the neighborhood strays she feeds count?

Past and Future

What was your character like as a baby? As a child?: As a baby, she was super clingy to her mom. She did not like being held by anyone else, not even her dad until she was almost a toddler. As a child, she was very wild. She was a rowdy little thing that some people would call a ‘tom boy.’ Her parents would call it ‘free spirited.’

Did they grow up rich or poor?: Rich until she moved to Vesuvia.

Did they grow up nurtured or neglected?: Nurtured.

What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved?: When Asra asked her to go away with him during the plague, she had to break his heart to get him to leave without her. She’d already known she was sick and wouldn’t let him see her wither. She also told him she didn’t love him when he’d confessed, which was a lie.

What are their ambitions?: Be happy and live a full life.

What smells remind them of their childhood?: Lilacs, teak wood, burning sage, pine.

What was their childhood ambition?: Become a battle magician -like her dad was. Or travel the world like Auntie Zira.

What is their best childhood memory?: Before she lost control of her magic the first time, she’d shown her sister an illusion of the constellations in their bedroom. She made them dance and told stories. It’s a bit melancholic for her though…

Did they have an imaginary childhood friend?: No need.

Love

Do they believe in love at first sight?: No.

How do they behave in a relationship?: Respectfully. She’s always aware of boundaries and never pushes them. She’s wholly committed and they receive every piece of her love.

What sort of sex do they have?: She’s down for anything. And will try almost anything at least twice. She’s a perfect switch and versatile, too.

Has your character ever been in love?: A few times.

Have they ever had their heart broken?: Maybe a few.

Conflict

How do they respond to a threat?: She’s very quick to act. She’ll try to subdue first, but if that’s off the table… she’ll do as required.

Are they most likely to fight with their fists or tongue?: Both, at the same time.

What is your character’s kryptonite?: The people she loves.

If your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be?: Assuming no soul is left inside, she’ll save a grimoire of her mom’s.

How do they perceive strangers?: As people, with their own lives.

What are their phobias?: Taphophobia, being buried alive. Claustrophobia, fear of confined spaces.

What is their choice of weapon?: Magic or a blade. Has no issue using fists though.

What living person do they most despise?: Despise is a strong word, but it’d probably be Valerius. She can’t tolerate him for long.

Have they ever been bullied or teased?: Plenty of times as a kid, but had no qualms about knocking someone in the teeth.

Where do they go when they’re angry?: A walk or run. Or, she’ll climb something, preferably a very tall cliff or palace wall. Any physical activity really.

Work, Education, and Hobbies

What is their current job?: Court Magician of Vesuvia, shop keeper, and [redacted cause spoilers]

What do they think about their current job?: It’s necessary.

What are some of their past jobs?: Court Magician, combat medic, shopkeeper, and personal guard to the Count

What are their hobbies?: She collects rocks, pressed flowers, odd trinkets, shiny shiny stuff.

Educational background?: Was trained in various forms of magic by her parents as soon as she could walk, as well as other combat styles with traditional weapons. She was taught other lessons in history, politics, and more to train her to become Queen, too. She learned most of her medical knowledge from Nazali and Julian.

Intelligence level?: She’s wicked sharp.

Do they have any specialist training?: Magic is her main focus.

Do they play a sport? Are they any good?: She’ll try any sport for fun; but, again, she’s competitive so don’t be surprised if she tries to kick your ass at it.

What is their socioeconomic status?: Upper-middle, maybe?

Favorites

What is their favorite animal?: All, especially if she can pet it.

Which animal do they dislike the most?: Birds kinda freak her out, just a little.

What place would they most like to visit?: Zadith or Nevivon. But she’s down to go anywhere at any time.

What is the most beautiful thing they’ve seen?: The sunrise from the highest cliff in Moonsea. She could see everything painted in orange, reds, and violets.

What is their favorite song?: Song of the Sea - Ashley Serena

Music, art, reading preferred?: Don’t make her pick. Please, don’t make her pick. Her head might explode.

What is their favorite color?: Black and purple.

Favorite food?: Seared scallops.

Possessions

What is in their fridge?: Fruit, certain herbs, beer, and more fruit.

What is on their bedside table?: A book (that’s cycled out after she’s finished obviously), sleeping draught, and the emerald necklace.

What is in their pockets?: Herb pouch, warding charms, stones, small pocket knife, that kind of stuff.

What is their most treasured possession?: A broken necklace. She can’t remember why it’s so important, but she never leaves without it tucked safely somewhere on her person.

Spirituality

Do they believe in the afterlife?: She believes there has to be something after all this.

What are their religious views?: Spiritual.

Are they superstitious?: Not in the “black cats are bad luck” way.

What would they like to be reincarnated as?: A bear!

How would they like to die?: Doesn’t care. It won’t matter afterwards.

What is your character’s spirit guide?: A bear.

What is their zodiac sign?: Aries

Daily Life

What are their eating habits?: She either eats non-stop, or goes without because she forgets. She’ll make sure it’s at least a balanced meal, for the most part.

Do they have any allergies?: She’s allergic to hazelnuts and bananas. Will still eat them and get calmly lectured for it by Asra or Julian, too.

Describe their home.: Organized, mostly. Everything is in a specific place. She cleans regularly, especially since ‘someone’ doesn’t remember to.

Are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder?: Organized clutter.

What do they do first thing on a weekday morning?: Morning tea to wake her up and make her less grumpy. Then maybe breakfast of apple and rice pudding.

What do they do on a Sunday afternoon?: Nap, read, nap again, sex, nap, snack…

What do they do on a Friday night?: Either go out with Julian, pull an ‘all nighter’ with Asra, or whatever. She’s done to go out or stay in.

What is the soft drink of choice?: She wouldn’t drink soda often, actually. So she’d have no preference.

What is their alcoholic drink of choice?: Anything but tequila.

Miscellaneous

What is their character archetype?: From this list: The Creator seems the most fitting. Let me know if you think I’m wrong.

Who is their hero?: Her mother.

What or who would your character dress up as for Halloween?: She’d have a different costume every year. So a witch, a mermaid, an android (in Modern AU)… She’d never do the same one twice.

Are they comfortable with technology?: In a Modern AU, she’d like to use it quite a lot. It’d be useful to her.

If they could save one person who would it be?: That’s… a hard question.

If they could call one person for help, who would it be?: Asra, for sure.

What is their greatest extravagance?: Herbs, books, and stones.

Do they believe in happy endings?: She’d like to.

What would they ask a fortune-teller?: About what deck they use.

#Rhea the Phoenix #arcana mc #arcana oc #oopsies it's a long post!#I wanted to add photos but it wasn't cooperating #character survey

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muggle-writes · 6 years ago

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Stretch Thursday

Prompt: "In front of the protagonist, the grocery store clerk just packed several large glass bottles on top of the eggs. The protagonist hears them crack."

Constraint: write in first person

(I vaguely knew how this was going to end, but everything between the first paragraph and the actual prompted moment, and then most of what came after, surprised me on its way out of my fingers.)

Gods above, could this checkout line move any slower, I wondered. Sure, there were only two people in front of me, but the haughty swaggering lump of a human being in front was questioning everything, in search of a nonexistent bargain:

(readmore should be right here but it's not hey tumblr please build a functional app ever maybe?)

Why didn't you accept this week-out-of-date coupon? Why did that coupon only apply to one package of frog eyes, not four. Are you sure this naga skin rucksack isn't on sale? I'm pretty sure the sign said it was on sale. (the leather shoulder bag in a similar size was on sale.)

The poor clerk - Ashley, their nametag said, a pin on the lanyard instructing people to use She or They pronouns - was the only person on checkout duty in the early afternoon. She seemed flustered, but answered every single question in the same patient, even tone of voice.

I wouldn't be able to do that. Actually, when I worked in retail, I got fired from three different jobs for intimidating customers when they started acting like that. Like just because they cleared out a nest of giant rats on the outskirts of town or prevented a band of goblins from establishing a camp in the caves just across the river, that they're entitled to luxury and hero worship, or at least special privileges, from the rest of us. Thank goodness I finally got a job with the local theater, my talents in projecting illusions finally celebrated for dressing the actors up with "no effort" (on the part of the makeup team, not that I don't stretch my magic as far as it can go and then some every night at rehearsal and for hours at a time eight days straight when our shows are open to the public, to turn the bright-but-plain frocks into resplendent ball gowns and every other bit of nonsense that was asked of me). And that's so much better than when I was viewed with suspicion by peers and teachers alike because apparently creating tiny intangible dragons or silent fireworks and lying about my character are the exact same thing, who knew?

I reeled that train of thought back in. There was no need to be bitter about high school bullies considering I'm now living the (pre)Broadstreet dream, and most of them... Well, even the "successful" ones still work ten hour days at tedious office jobs to keep the heat on and the wards up.

The one thing that bitter spiral was good for was that by the time I forced it out of my head, Ashley was calling "have a nice day, Sir" in the same perfectly-bland tone at Mr Cheapskate as he stalked off, carrying three bags on each arm and leaving his cart half-blocking the checkout lane.

He nearly got blown off his feet as he stepped from the store's heat and calm across the ward line, a generous two feet outside the door, into the frigid wind the meteorologists were calling a sneak peek into the blizzard that should hit this weekend. Good riddance.

I met Ashley's eyes as they tapped the rune to pull the items on the conveyor belt forward. I rolled my eyes sympathetically at her forced smile and dead-exhausted eyes. (Not literally dead! Apparently my brain was stuck in high school again because I could almost hear Mrs Primfoot growling about teens and their inability to describe things accurately. Come on. The zombie revolts in Rhodesia were fifteen years ago, and hyperbole is hilarious. Do people just lose all sense of humor when they turn 30?)

Ashley didn't roll their eyes back, she probably worried about losing her job over disrespecting customers in front of other customers, but their lips twitched and their smile seemed a little less stiff.

"Just these two things?" Ashley asked, with professionally-faked curiosity, picking up a large carton of eggs to scan them. "Eggs and milk to wait out the blizzard?" Eighteen goose eggs was a bit much for waiting out a two day storm, even for a bigger family, but some people liked to overprepare. Gods knew I'd seen weirder purchases when I had to check people out. I'd seen weirder people too. This woman, with her sapphire blue, floor-length dress and gray roots belying her dark brown hair, appeared absolutely normal, even with her curls adding at least two inches in height, making her appear barely shorter than me.

"Those are golden goose eggs," the woman corrected her in a syrupy sweet tone that sent a shiver down my spine. Ashley's eyes widened - probably in recognition because they'd been too professional for anything else, but I wouldn't have blamed her for expressing horror. The only customers worse than the adventurers who thought they were better than everyone else, were the governor's many cousins, who were obscenely rich through none of their own effort and not only thought they were better than everyone else but that we were all too naive to understand that.

"For my sweet niece's fourth birthday," the woman continued as though it were obvious.

I couldn't hold back a snort and immediately faked a coughing fit so she wouldn't turn and lecture me in that same patronizing tone.

Even if a dozen golden eggs wouldn't cost me over a month's wages, the yolks, with the flakes of gold leaf suspended throughout, gave them an awful texture no matter how you prepared the eggs, and they inevitably tasted metallic. No toddler would appreciate that, not even if she was already spoiled so rotten as to only accept the priciest of gifts. Well, if the kid was allowed to smash the eggs raw and then go "panning for gold" she would probably have a blast, but something about this woman's perfectly symmetric makeup, smooth, manicured nails, and shockingly hairless arms told me that she would accept nothing less than the most picture perfect cuisine, which meant she was likely to boil the golden eggs so she could present them, polished to the classic shine.

Regular egg yolks turn chalky and disgusting when you boil them, boiled golden eggs are infinitely worse.

Ashley didn't respond beyond a mild "ah, of course" as they efficiently double-bagged the eggs and set them aside.

The woman made a vague disgruntled noise in the back of her throat, but didn't say anything.

Ashley reached for the next item, the package of six tall carafes that I was now sure were something other than plain milk. Sure enough, when Ashley picked up the package, their hand moved in an arc, as though the carafes weighed less than they expected. The additional height caused the yellow light from the enchanted ceiling to dance across the bottles, drawing my eyes to the anti-theft runes stamped on each one.

Suddenly I recognized them. If I were going to blow an entire paycheck on luxuries, I certainly wouldn't buy the two or three golden eggs I could afford with that amount, but I might splurge on a set of these corruption-identifying bottles. They were supposed to be equally good for home canning, for jams and pickles and the like, and for potions. the not-quite-clear, milky white glass promised to turn sickly green if the contents of each bottle went bad, or if poison was added, intentionally or otherwise, or if the properties of the potion inside changed even if it was still safe to drink.

As Ashley was starting to tuck the bottles into a new bag, the woman cleared her throat. "Dearie, I'm sure those will fit in with the eggs. No need to waste another bag."

Ashley hesitated. "Ma'am, it's Magemart policy to bag fragile items separately and"

"It's fine, it's fine," the woman interrupted. "There's only two items, and I don't need all this extra plastic.

"Of course, Ma'am," Ashley agreed, monotone. They opened the top of the bag of eggs, which had folded itself shut.

As Ashley tucked the bottles into the bag with the eggs, I thought I heard a sharp clink, like glass on glass. Odd, but whatever. maybe one of the bottles is loose in the package. and ran into another.

"This is your total," Ashley said, straightening up and indicating the display. Either the lack of reading the final price was another breach of policy or there was a clause in the policy about not reading numbers with more than four digits aloud. I don't remember exactly, my own job at the Magemart closest to my apartment lasted barely three days, the shortest of any of my retail jobs.

The woman swiped her credit card, and was just tucking it back away into her wallet when one of the carafes exploded with a tinkling crash that seemed to echo for ages. I flinched at the sudden noise, and Ashley jumped back with a yelp, unflappable facade forgotten.

We all looked at the fluorescent green shards for a moment. I couldn't quite believe my eyes - either I'd badly misunderstood how CI bottles were supposed to work or there was something really horrendously wrong with those eggs. Besides just being golden goose eggs I mean. All of the other bottles had dangerous green cracks spreading throughout, and another looked like it might fall apart into thousands of shards like its fellow at the slightest provocation.

Almost before I had processed what I was seeing, the woman had rallied enough to shout in Ashley's face, leaning over the counter. "What the devil did you do?"

Ashley cowered, silent tears building at the corners of her eyes. They still looked stunned, frozen in place.

"Hey!" I shouted, feigning confidence and trying to get in this woman's face to protect a fellow cashier. She ignored me. "You were the one who told them to put everything in one bag!"

That got her attention. It wasn't quite what I meant to say, but I was having trouble figuring out what I meant to say, and that slipped out in the meantime.

"And you want to defend her for what? Selling me defective goods?" the woman demanded, equally happy to yell in my face. At least I'd kind of gotten into this knowingly. "CI bottles don't work like that! Or if this is some new function, then that means these golden goose eggs are poisoned or spoilt and they shouldn't be selling them to me!" she insisted.

"What do you expect her to do?" I asked, meeting her continued shouting with a tone that I would call 'panicked' but that Sierra once called 'dangerously quiet'. "How should she have known? Is she supposed to spend her shift finding any magical item that might interact with other things, and taking it around to set it on every other item it might possibly be bagged with, to make sure there's no unexpected interaction? Should they be doing that instead of checking people out, while they're on the clock?" I tried to make the scenario obviously illogical but I think I rambled too much to get the point across.

The woman only squinted at me for a long moment before putting her nose half an inch from mine and shouting even louder than before, "I! Want! A! Manager!"

I wiped spittle off my face, and she stamped her foot, which seemed to be the impulse needed for the second and third bottles to shatter, with another echoing crash.

Someone in line behind me muttered about a manager, before rushing off. ...Probably. I didn't exactly turn to look, with the woman still glowering in my face. Hopefully they ran off to get a manager who would take this belligerent lady out of my and Ashley's faces.

Fortunately, that's exactly what happened. A manager showed up to talk to the woman right around the time she started making threats, and Ashley and the line of people waiting to check out shuffled over to a new register without glass shards everywhere.

We all kept our positions in line, so it was finally my turn to check out. My heart was still pounding from the confrontation as I handed Ashley the bag of moonstone chips to scan.

They offered me a weak smile. "Illusion magic? Isn't that really hard to learn?" Ashley asked, with a tiny but genuine spark of interest in her eyes.

I nodded before I fully processed the second question, already fumbling for my company credit card. "I work hard at it," I said, stretching the truth a little. I certainly didn't have the usual trouble developing the basics, but I push my limits near-daily at the theater and stumbling out of my comfort zone proves to me that I can do more.

"Will that be all," Ashley asked, but tapped the appropriate button on the register before I could reply, my card already poised over the place to swipe it being answer enough. "Your total is 10.53," she said, the next line in the cashiers' script that I still unfortunately have memorized.

They skipped the part of the script asking me if I wanted a receipt, just grabbed it when it printed and scribbled a quick message on the back of it, before finally presenting it to me, holding it out with the handle of the plastic bag with my moonstone inside. "Here is your receipt Ma'am."

I grabbed both, gently, and before I could pull my hand back to look at the message, she flipped her hand over to grab mine.

"Hey.... Thanks," they murmured, then let go.

I flashed her what was either a reassuring to smile or a pained grimace. Hard to tell from inside my own face. "Cashiers ought to be allowed to yell back at people like that," I said. "I'm glad I could get her attention off you."

Ashley opened their mouth to respond but the person behind me in line cleared his throat, and she turned to him, professionally flat expression back in place.

I flipped the receipt over to read what Ashley had written. It was her phone number and the message

I get off at 5. May I treat you to coffee?

I pulled out my phone to text her a yes, and fumbled putting the basket back into the stack for future customers twice before I paused typing long enough to focus on putting the basket away.

I wasn't really bothered by my klutziness. For once my hot head earned me a hot date instead of a hot mess.

#stretch thursday #well i started this on thursday after work #feedback tentatively accepted #muggle writes #muggle originals #writing from prompts #long post #i've tried to add a readmore but they don't seem to work on mobile #i'm not so certain about the ending but i needed to be done #listen it's 3am and I need to be done proofreading and I'm 95% certain there were more things I wanted to fix and I can't find them #if you think I didn't fullfil the prompt please read the prompt again i made sure to quote it directly #hmm what's the tumblr magic key to skip a post?#press j to skip #?#k and j are up and down in vi but there's no guarantee it's the same here #also that still only helps for people on desktop who presumably have xkit anyway

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noradarhkpalmer · 6 years ago

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Making Christmas Real Again

Title: Making Christmas Real Again

Rating: G

Pairing: Nora Darhk/Ray Palmer aka Darhkatom

Warnings: None unless you count too much fluff.

Summary/Notes: Ray and Nora are all cuddled up for their romantic Christmas-y evening until Ray hits a nerve that has Nora cutting it short. That leaves Ray with only one option: Show Nora Darhk that Christmas can be the most wonderful time of year.

Ps. I’m sorry this is so long and if I kill anyone because of Darhkatom feels.

They like to sit here when no one else is awake. The stairs between Sara’s office and the com center are cold but they usually warm up once they sit there for a few minutes. It’s funny to see the 19th century looking library juxtaposed with the 23rd century time ship command center. She saw a festive mug appear in front of her face and she took it. The mug was of Santa’s head and his smile was about as goofy as her boyfriend’s. She felt him sit down next to her and pull her closer to his side. His body warmth was usually what lulled her to sleep, if he wasn’t careful, he’d have to carry her back to his room. Their room.

She took a sip of the hot chocolate, prepared exactly how she liked it. She grinned uncontrollably at the thought that he never forgot how she liked her hot cocoa. She leaned her head on his shoulder and stared at the green ripples out the window. “You know, this view would be a bit more picturesque if there was snow rather than green ripples.”

Ray smirked. “Well, Miss Darhk, I thought you would never ask. Gideon, project program Darhk-Palmer Christmas.”

“Right away, Dr. Palmer.” The lights dimmed around them slightly and the windows began to project what instead looked like houses light up in extravagant Christmas lights and decor with the ground littered with snow.

Nora gasped in awe at the winter wonderland appearing before her. Their perspective made it seem like they were sitting in a living room admiring the Christmas lights on other houses in their neighborhood. The thought continued to grow until it gave Nora a shiver down her spine. A pleasant feeling bloomed in the pit of her stomach. She closed her eyes, imagining they were in a house of their own, not on the Waverider, staying up to spend quiet moments with one another on Christmas Eve.

“Nora? Earth to Nora?” Ray waved a hand in front of her face and she snapped out of her rabbit hole.

“Sorry... I was just...”

“Thinking about this as if it were real?”

“Was it really that obvious?” She blushed and looked away.

Ray smiled. “No... but I was doing the same thing. This is actually the view from my childhood home. This was what our neighborhood looked like when I was growing up. I always thought the sight was spectacular. And I wanted to share it with you.” He kissed the top of her head.

Nora smiled into her mug. “I’m trying to think of the last Christmas my family spent together. I think it was right after we moved to Star City. I guess for you it wasn’t that long ago, but to me that was another lifetime. My mother decorated the tree in the most beautiful lights and ornaments... the tree topper was my favorite. It was one of the most beautiful stars I’d ever seen. We were happy. Just a regular happy family having a normal Christmas. But then it all changed within months. I don’t usually like to think about those times, because of how good they were. They were pre-Mallus, pre-knowing every atrocity my parents were connected to, pre-every atrocity I was connected to.”

Ray reached for her hand. “Was is the right word. You’re different now and you should look back on that memory with warmth and fondness, Nora. I think it will help you look forward.”

“Forward to what? Living under house arrest on a time ship where the only time we see snow Christmas is if we jump to a part and place in time where it’s there? I love that you wanted to try and bring a little bit of Christmas here by showing me what you used to see when you were my age: when I had that last, good Christmas with my parents but, this is just an illusion. Gideon, end program.” Gideon raised the lights and cut the projection from the windows. Nora stood up and Ray immediately got to his feet.

“Nora...” Ray tried but she held her hand up.

She shook her head. “Ray, I’m not really in the mood for a hope speech. Let’s just go to bed, okay?” She gave him a sad smile and lowered her defensive hand to offer it to him.

He took her hand and followed her to their room, knowing he had to fix this. But not tonight.

xxxx

Ray Palmer had one thing on his mind. Well two. But they both related to Nora Darhk, the wonderful, beautiful, kind, but sometimes sad woman that laid next to him in bed. The first of the two things being the ring that now burned a hole in his bedside table that he had to sneak back into the drawer when they returned to the room. His grand plan had been to show her the view from his childhood home, ask her how she liked it, if she would like to see every Christmas from that view, tell her he bought his childhood home, for them to live in, eventually, and then ask her to marry him. None of that happened.

He knew she liked to shut down, retreat inward, for the sake of not opening up wounds that she didn’t cause. She didn’t seem to have as much of a problem with processing through things that she had done as Mallus’s vessel because she was remorseful of those and ready to repent from any responsibility she had in those actions. But bringing up the pain that came before. The pain that was caused by others seeking to hurt her because it would hurt their target. That was what made her shut down. She rarely wanted to talk about those times with him.

Which brought him to his next item on his list of ways Nora Darhk was always on his mind. He wanted to make Christmas real to her again. Give her an amazing Christmas memory regardless if that included asking her to become his wife. If he was going to do that, he was actually going to have to get started. Tonight.

xxxx

Nora woke the next morning, trying so hard to shake the nightmare she had. It was the last Christmas with her parents. But then her father turned into Mallus and destroyed everyone and everything around her, then asked her to be his vessel and engulfed her. It was a terrible nightmare and she couldn’t think of anything more comforting than Ray’s arms. She reached out for him only to find cold sheets. Was he upset with her because of what she said last night? Maybe he was talking with the other Legends about her attitude and that she needed to leave, to go back to the Time Bureau and live out her remaining sentence there.

She needed to run if that was the case.

Nora shoved essential bits of clothing into a duffle bag, not even bothering to change out of her pajamas and walked out of their room. Ray’s room.

She was hit was a strong smell, probably coming from the galley. It was cinnamon and sugar and she couldn’t quite place it honestly. And then she saw the hallways. Tinsel EVERYWHERE. She continued down the hallway until she reached the command center and covered her mouth in awe. Every inch was covered in some kind of Christmas decor. Lights. Tinsel. Wreaths. Figurines. A tree was in Sara’s office and behind the tree was her Ray. With a stupid Santa hat on. He came around the tree and over to her.

“Good morning, sorry I wasn’t in the bed. I was doing all of this last night. I saved the tree for last. I was hoping we could decorate it together and maybe you could put this on top of the tree.” He pulled a large star tree topper from behind his back and Nora dropped her duffle bag. It looked exactly like the one that was on her childhood tree, from that last good Christmas. She started crying, tears of joy, and threw herself into Ray’s arms.

“You.” Kiss. “Are.” Kiss. “The most.” Kiss. “Wonderful.” Kiss. “Man!” She pulled away and took the tree topper in her hands. She ran her fingers over it, front and back. She couldn’t believe it. He had brought Christmas to her.

“I just wanted you to have a good Christmas. The first of many good Christmases from here on out. I don’t plan on you spending miserable days here, on house arrest. I want you to live life fully on here, while we’re both here on the ship. This has become home for me, physically, and you’ve become home for me, in here.” Ray took one of her hands and placed it over his heart. “I’m home, Nora Darhk, and I hope that you can one day feel that way about this place, too.”

“Ray... I really don’t know what to say. When I woke up this morning without you I just had assumed you finally got tired of me and were talking to the Legends about taking me back to the Time Bureau. Now that I can see that none of that is true... I think that I can at least agree with you in part of how you conceptualize home. Home is wherever you are.”

Ray grinned like an absolutely in love idiot and took off his Santa hat and placed it on her head. “The tree is a little tall, do you want a boost?”

Nora nodded and suddenly she was not just lifted up by her waist but instead perched on one of Ray’s shoulders to be able to reach the top of the tree. A feeling rushed through Nora about how sexy it was that Ray was strong enough to lift her to this height and bear her weight on his one shoulder. She placed the tree topper on top of the tree and plugged it in to the rest of the lights and watched it come to life.

Ray sat her down and Nora wrapped her arms around his waist, wanting to stay there for a minute, just basking in their moment. Ray rubbed her back soothingly and Nora listened to his heartbeat.

“So... you know how I had said I had made the Waverider my home, physically?” Ray asked.

“Yes...”

“I have and it’s been good to me and it honestly brought us together, let’s be real. But I have been thinking so much, now that we are together and this is our first Christmas together, but how would you feel if this was our first and last Christmas on the Waverider?”

Nora lifted her head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Ray chuckled. “Well... I showed you that projection of my house last night because I bought it. I bought my childhood in the hopes of sharing it with you.”

Nora could’ve sworn she stopped breathing. “Ray... but my probation and the Legends. They need you. I don’t want you to take away the best parts of your life because of me.”

“You’re the best part of my life, Nora Darhk. So much so that I want...”

“What? What do you want.”

“Hold on... two seconds... don’t let the moment leave but I will be right back.” Ray jogged down their quarters and tore through his side table to find the ring box. He shoved it in his sweatpants pocket and ran back to the com center. Nora was still standing there, arms wrapped around herself by the Christmas tree, looking like an actual Christmas angel. His Christmas angel.

“Where did you go?” She shook her head and laughed at this ridiculous man that she was so definitely in love with.

Ray walked up to her but then immediately dropped to one knee. Nora took a step back but Ray caught her hand, her left hand.

“Nora Eleanor Darhk, I have literally no idea how we work sometimes but we do. I knew from the minute I met you, this you, after meeting the young you and seeing this you and time is confusing so I’m going to move on... I knew that we had a connection that if anything, I wanted to use it to help you become the amazing person I knew you were inside. The fact that you fell as in love with me as I am with you is the best bonus of anything. I have never been this happy before so, Nora, will you marry me?”

“Yes, Ray, yes I will absolutely marry you!” She jumped up and down so hard her Santa hat fell off. Ray picked it up as he stood and slid the ring on her finger. He placed the hat back on his head and Nora kissed him, hard. “I love you, Ray Palmer, and I can’t wait to be your wife!”

“Uh-oh, I see mommy kissing Santa Claus.” A voice broke their little reality and they both turned to see the rest of the Legends standing in the com center watching them. Nora realized it had been Sara to make the comment.

Nora buried her face in Ray’s chest out of embarrassment until Ray broke free and held Nora’s hand up proudly. “NORA AGREED TO MARRY ME!”

“I hoped she would, haircut, cause I don’t think anyone else could put up with your sunny disposition.” Mick grunted and started unraveling the tinsel from the railing on the command center.

“Mick! No, please come on I tried so hard to make the spirals evenly spaced!” Ray ran off to stop Mick from destroying the decorations and Nora observed her fiance being with his family, who she guessed was her family now too.

#darhkatom #nora darhk #ray palmer #legends of tomorrow #fluff #fanfic #25 days of darhkatom

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royal-writer · 7 years ago

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Do we need more futurevision, hopes and dreams stories? Probs not but I’m gonna make em anyway hurrhurr

Gotta get my FIX somehow

Gowns sucked. Why did aristocrats insist on these damn things? They were so ineffective and stiff. Chest aching with a tightly strung corset, feet sore in narrow dainty little shoes. You could hardly dare to move your legs more than a shuffle or fear falling from the weight or heavens, show a slip of ankle.

Instead of feeling like a person, you felt like a display doll. Pretty and perfect.

Resisting the urge to breath their her mouth, Essätha nodded simply and politely to the chatty maiden and her escort speaking. Gods she wanted to nibble on the thick stain of lipstick on her mouth, or brush off the damn powder everywhere that made her want to sniffle.

The only satisfaction she got was knowing she wasn’t the only one uncomfortable. Rava seemed to be the only one truly enjoying the sport of showing off in fancy attire. Abernathy pulled off the look with sophistication, but was weary of his movements not to rip the suit dawning him; and Penimra was more arrogant than ever to show off his mannerisms and high-class status.

That left her, Adela, Cackle, and Sul in varying degrees of the most miserable guests at this high-court meeting.

Of course, she would insist upon being the most uncomfortable. At least the other’s weren’t hopping from foot to foot trying not to dance in place to relieve the pressure from aching lack of arch support.

Thank goodness everyone else was there to pay attention as the man gestured, waving them to follow to- somewhere- because she couldn’t pay him a lick of attention in this state. Hopefully taking them somewhere she could sit down. Or- well, maybe not. What if this stiff piece of shit ripped? Wasn’t she supposed to push it down in the back when she sat or something so the flowing bottom didn’t hike up? Christ, this was the worst-

A hand lightly pressed against her lower back. Essätha gave a sideways glance up to the dark eyes peering down at her.

Amon smirked. Briefly.

Ohhh dear. She swallowed, marching forward a few paces to where they had been ushered. The warmth of the guiding hand against her back driving her crazy.

She fell short from the rest; standing back and mostly out of sight as the clip of Amon’s heels came to an abrupt stop. Fingers massaged in to the fabric in slow circles.

Gods, she couldn’t even feel those rough fingers. Who decided having clothes like this was worth it when you couldn’t even appreciate a man’s touch, honestly. Such poor design. Terrible taste.

Clearing his throat, Amon leaned down close to her. The heat of his breath washed over her neck, sending goosebumps down her arms as she shivered.

“I’m going to tear that damn unflattering dress off you as soon as we’re out of here.”

Oh, gods. Her knees were shaking.

Teeth scraped her ear and she choked back a moan, swallowing as he whispered, “I bet I can make you beg just riding my knee. Pelor you smell so good-”

The hand against her lower back slipped down, cupping her ass. Essätha jumped suddenly, letting out a startled cry of alarm that had heads turning back towards them.

Her face was searing red. Brighter than Sul’s scales as her legs wobbled, an ache between her legs and humiliating dampness between.

She dared a glance at Amon. Standing poised, completely stoic in complexion with arms behind his back.

That piece of shit.

“Everything alright, miss?” the gentleman escort inquired, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes- yes fine I uh- I’m sorry to interrupt I just need to use the restroom-”

“Ooh, by all means. Down the west wing, three doors down on the right side.”

“Right. Thank you-”

Stiffly, she pivoted to hurry as fast as the painfully pinching shoes would allow. A glance back as she made her way to the corner, and most everyone had put their attention back on the chatty couple.

Amon’s were on her, however. Smug and satisfied, before turning his eyes back on the two speakers.

“Filthy fuck,” she hissed to herself as she stomped down the corridor. Enjoying the rise out of getting her aroused and leaving her wanting. At an event she could do nothing about, of course! She couldn’t relieve herself here in this fancy shitdick estate.

Oooh but the very idea was there now. On the fancy beds of silk, on the table, leaning on the expensive sculptures, against the doors and in the bigass tub this place probably had and all over this expensive, luxurious house. Dirty, graphic, lewd images danced in her thoughts in a conga line. One after another, flashing before her mind’s eyes. All the position, all the moaning and groaning, Amon’s fingers digging into her hips and oh gods-

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” she whispered hoarsely, placing a palm to her forehead and smearing some of the powdery makeup.

Ah hell, how much longer did they have to put up with this shit before she could pin that snarky rich man into a bed and have her with him?

LATER…

“Hey, Essätha, where’s the bathroom here again?”

Blankly, the yuan-ti stared over at the elven child.

“How should I know?” she asked. “I don’t live here.”

“But you… had to use the restroom earlier…” Rava trailed, frowning with confusion.

Whoops. She’d forgotten about her little fib to escape Amon. Coughing into the back of her hand softly, Essie shuffled quickly past Ravamora’s skeptical glance to catch up with the other’s.

Gods, maybe she should have tried swiping something when she’d taken off. At least that would have been a good, believable cover. Now she just looked like an idiot avoiding a question.

Stepping past Amon, she caught a quick flash of a grin come and go on his face as she passed.

Smug fuck. He was going to see just where that cockiness lead him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

No way. There was no way.

“Essätha?”

That voice. She knew that voice. It fit the illusion before her perfectly. The manifestation of her imagination; eerie black eyes on a red face with bright blue hair spiked in tall tufts.

When she ran forward, it only took a second after for the tiefling to move too. They collided painfully; forehead smacking together and arms awkwardly clutching clothes.

“Sol!”

“Oh by Shar’s love, Ess’, you’re okay!” Solace sobbed, clinging to her so tightly that her fingers hurt.

“Come here come here, let me look at you! Look at how tall you’ve gotten- look at you oh Shar, oh gosh, you made it you’re okay, you’re okay just look at you!”

Startled laughter bubbled up from Essie’s chest. She reached up, wiping at her tearful eyes as Solace held her away at arms length to inspect her.

“I didn’t know- I had no idea where you’d gone and what happened to you, I only hoped-”

The tiefling’s voice cracked. Her teeth snagged her lower lip as she blinked swiftly, tears collecting in her eyes.

“You look healthy,” she choked. “You look… you look wonderful.”

“And look at you!” Essie announced in heaving, sobbing gasps. “You’re fucking glowing!”

“I know! I got new clothes!”

“You always have new clothes,” Essätha laughed between ugly, chest-heaving sobs.

Hands came up, gently cupping Essie’s face. She blinked past her tears of relief, grinning as Solace pressed her forehead against her own.

“I’m so happy to see you, Ess’. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” Essätha countered, holding her friend tightly.

They stood there, embracing each other tightly for a moment. So different but so much the same.

Essätha realized she was taller than Sol now. But where she had grown in height, Sol had grown where it counted, of course. A narrow waist, wide feminine curving hips, and much more bust. The lucky bitch.

She tugged herself back a bit, smiling eagerly down at her friend.

“Come here, I have some people to introduce you to,” she eagerly stated, looking behind her at the baffled faces staring her way.

Solace appeared briefly confused. She looked behind Essätha, her eyes suddenly lighting up.

“Oh… please!” she gasped. “Yes- please do!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Ooohhh Green Bean is just the most darling little baby in the whole wide world!” Solace cooed. “You adopted a kid Ess’, congratulations! I can’t believe you raised a child without having them meet their aunt. I’m crushed, really.”

“Oh shut up,” she snorted, rolling her eyes.

“At least she has better looks than her mom.”

Essie jabbed an elbow into the tiefling’s side, narrowing her eyes.

“You know I’m kidding, reptile.”

A drawn out ‘hmm’ escaped Essätha, unable to wipe the smile from her face as she watched Sol stroke the green serpent. Bobbing her head up and down, Green Bean followed the motion of Solace’s free hand as she wiggled in front of the serpent’s face.

Solace leaned back slowly then, cracking her back as she looked around the campsite. She pointed to each individual in turn, speaking softly to Essie as she did so:

“Abernathy, Ravamora, Penimra, Sulhad… Sulha… Sull? Whatever- Adela, Cackle, Ilamin, and Amon?”

“Right.”

“They seem like a lovely bunch,” she observed, watching the large group wander the camp in quiet discussion.

A soft smile formed on Essie’s mouth. She felt a squeeze in her heart as she nodded.

“They are.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could make out Solace watching her. There was a critical stare upon her; hyper observant.

“What?”

“Look at you,” Sol chuckled softly. “You’re so… happy. You’re glowing!”

A dark hue of red entered Essie’s cheeks.

“Well- I mean- I’ve been traveling with them for a long time- you get used to them-”

“Mmmmhm,” Sol drawled, waving her hand. “So- tell me, what are they like?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get to know them with time,” Essie laughed breezily. “Sir Abernathy’s very kind and very nurturing. He’s pretty much tied with Sul over there in protecting the lot of us. Rava’s a brat I’ll be honest, but maybe I say that because in a few ways, she reminds me of me. Penimra is trash but he’s our trash- and he’s getting a lot better at not being such a judgmental cock.”

“Promising,” Solace observed, laughing softly.

“Heh- yeah. Ilamin’s a young sweetheart; you wouldn’t meet a more caring boy. Adela’s cool; she can swap between being a stick-in-the-mud like Abernathy to the most boisterous, adventurous person. She’s taken by the way- I see that look. So is Abernathy.”

“Cackle over there is loud,” she pointed out, wincing. “Very loud, at times. But she’s a trip. A lot of character. If you want a hug though, there’s no better with all that fluffy down feather.”

A deep sigh escaped her. Watching the bunch as they gave her some space for now with her friend, gathering firewood and preparing what they had on hand for dinner that evening.

Jerking her head, Solace indicated to the last, unmentioned individual of the group.

“What about moneybags over there?” she slyly stated. “Steal anything good off of him? Does he owe you guys a debt?”

Essätha cleared her throat roughly.

“No, I haven’t stolen anything off of Amon… Correction: anything I didn’t give back, anyway.”

“Whoa. You gave something back?”

She shrugged, trying to play it off. “He’s… had a lot of things to work through. I felt bad.”

Essie didn’t like the look Sol was giving her. Not one bit. But, gratefully, she turned her gaze back on to Amon with a smile.

“What- what is it?”

“Is he single?” she sang, eyeing the Briarton lord hungrily.

An ugly, foreign feeling fluttered in her stomach.

“No,” she said flatly.

“Oooooh I see how it is,” Solace purred. “Shakking up with moneybags over there, hmm? That’s why he’s here, ey? Can’t get enough of that tail~”

She rubbed her elbow against Essätha’s side teasingly.

Offering a strained, false laugh, she responded faintly, “His name’s Amon, Sol.”

That same, curious look appeared on the tiefling’s face.

“Right,” Sol cued softly. “Amon.”

“Arf!”

“ACK!”

Wheezing, Essätha tried to declaw Solace talon-like grip from her shoulder and side.

“It’s okay, Sol, that’s just Caesar.”

“That dog is huge!” she whined. “Does he bite?”

“I mean, obviously?” Essie laughed. “But you’re good, as long as you don’t force Amon to send him after you. Here, you can touch him. He’s friendly.”

Nervously, Solace reached out to boop the mastiff on the nose. He sniffed curiously, licked her finger, and proceeded to sneeze.

“Oh gross!”

A sharp, wheezing laughter escaped Essätha, gripping her sides as Solace hugged to her side with a pouty face. Tears streaming down her face as Caesar wagged his tail, head tilted with confusion as to what was going on.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She caught Solace staring a lot after that.

That night, while everyone ate, she commented and laughed and told stories with the rest of them. Getting to know Essätha’s party of friends as they got to know a bit more about her.

But the later the hours got, she became quiet. Essie could almost see the clockwork moving in her head. It was the same way the next day, and the day after that. Still polite; answering questions, offering a helpful hand where she could or was asked. Asking her own questions, smiling.

But she seemed worryingly gone from her.

It left Essie feeling confused, and dreadfully sad.

Solace watched without comment or question, most of the time. She seemed most keen to watch when Essie’s orbit moved around Amon’s and his hers; following each other in circled paths unseen that always made their way back towards each other. Eyes leaving longing gazes against each other like the imprints of hands.

The staring made her nervous. However anxious she was though, she refused to bring it up.

Whatever was on Sol’s mind, it would come out with time.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“You’re leaving?”

The pain of the words struck a cord in her soul. All Essätha could do was stare, helpless, her heart aching.

“Don’t take it the wrong way, Essie,” she soothed, reaching out for her hands. “I love you plenty, kid. But you don’t need me, you know? I know you’re okay now. I know you’re still out there. I know I can find you again; all I have to do is search for the big superstar and her group of explorers out there, protecting the world.”

“But… why?” Essie asked hoarsely. “You can stay…”

The tiefling gave a shake of her head. “No, I can’t. We’re family, but they’re your family too.”

“Besides,” she went on, giving a bit of a sad smile. “I’m… no good for you like they are. You live a different life with them. They make you better. Having me around would complicate things in the end. It’s better if I’m just a visitor to the photos, not part of the album. You have your own life now; so different from the one we had when we were children. I can’t impeach on all of this. You’ve changed but maybe I… maybe I haven’t changed enough.”

“Sol, there’s no reason to go. They like you; you don’t have to-”

A finger touched her mouth gently, silencing her.

“It’s my choice,” she stated, firmer this time. “And I’m sticking with it.”

The hand dropped from her mouth as Sol sighed, smiling. “It’s not ‘goodbye’, Ess’. It’s ‘see you later’.”

“Feels like a goodbye,” she muttered.

“I know, reptile. I’m sorry.”

They stood there, awkward in the prolonged silence. The sound of crickets chirping and early morning dew on leaves, dropping to the ground, a louder echo in the silence than their breathing.

“What are you going to do, about that Amon fellow?”

“E… Excuse me?”

Solace looked up at her, a serious complexion now.

“Ess’, when have you ever bothered learning a lover’s name before?”

“That’s not-”

“How long has moneybags been traveling with all of you?”

“Well, since we started-”

“How long is this going to last?”

“Gods, Sssol, I don’t know!” Essie hissed, her face red. “It’s just good sex, okay!”

She regretted the words instantly. They burned in her throat; made her heart instantly throb with pain. It was an ugly, hurtful lie and even if he wasn’t around to hear it, the fact she’d even voiced it was damaging to her soul.

But that’s all it was. That’s all it was ever going to be.

There was a shape of pity in Solace’s face. She spoke softly then: “I’m sorry.”

Essätha stared at her silently. She didn’t have anything to respond with. Even if she did, she wasn’t sure she could voice it without her voice cracking.

“I better be on my way,” Sol cut in, glancing off to the side. “Wouldn’t want your family to think I’m kidnapping you.”

“You’re family too, Sol. You said so yourself.”

“I’ll find you again, don’t worry.”

The tiefling leaned in, giving her a peck on the cheek.

“Stay safe.”

“R-… Right,” Essie muttered. “You too, demon spawn”

Shouldering her bag, Solace gave a wink. She turned to take a few steps, sighing. Her eyes glanced over her shoulder.

“I’d watch out for that lord, Essie,” she said gently, a small smile. “I think he might be a criminal.”

“W-What?” Essätha babbled, confused.

Solace turned away, walking down the trail. Her voice carried as she sang out the next phrase:

“I think he might have stolen something very precious from you, dear.”

The next words were muffled, and Essie couldn’t make them out as Sol stated to herself while moving away, “I just hope he decides to offer a replacement just as grand for what he’s taken.” (If he didn’t, Sol mused venomously to herself, she could always find him and gut him for hurting Essie’s soft pure heart.)

The words rang in Essie’s skull, but even as she watched Sol’s figure grow smaller and smaller as she headed over the dips of the road, she couldn’t make any sense of them.

Tiefling bullshit riddles. What the fuck did that even mean?

#eci artz #Essie rw #amon illiad #essamon ship #my dnd campaign #solace dnd

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papillonrecordhouse · 7 years ago

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Mariposa x Haku: S-Support + Event 3

In collaboration with: @xianha

@fe-exire

[Event: Annus Novus]

Haku: *walks into Mariposa's office* Hey you busy today?

Mariposa: *leaning back in her chair, looks tired* No, it’s a festival day. *yawns* I need to get you a calendar I swear. Why? *turns to him*

Haku: Wait, it’s a festival again??? Which is it this time?

Mariposa: *looks at him dumbfounded then chuckles* Annus Novus Haku~ *stands up and walks over to him* You know, when people get to punish their masters and act a little more risque~ Kinda why there's a party downstairs at the HQ lobby. Or did you just think that was a HUGE birthday party?

Haku: Probably...wait WHAT?

Mariposa: *laughs at his reaction* Honestly Haku! How can you be so oblivious sometimes? *leans on her side* So what did you come in for? Since it's obvious not to give me holiday wishes~

Haku: I don’t think a holiday like that existed.... Well I thought about what you said.

Mariposa: Oh! *stands up straight and smiles* So what's your answer?

Haku: I’ve decided to stay. For a while.

Mariposa: Oh?... *looks a little disappointed but accepts the answer* Well alright, but know that option is always open to you. *goes to her desk* What made you decide that though? *looks at him, expecting a good answer as she packs*

Haku: Because... I don’t think I’m done here. With you...or everyone else. There's a lot more I can learn here on the field than in any type of school can teach me. Plus, I don't want to be away from the people I care for.... and if I'm going to school, I rather earn my place there as I did here.

Mariposa: *dumbfounded* Haku... *can’t believe her ears, but chuckles* I swear, the things that come out of your mouth can amaze me sometimes. *covers her eyes, with a hand to her hip* I mean, most would jump at this chance and yet...- *uncovers her eyes* Is it weird to say that makes me happy?

Haku: Who knows? I just know, I don't really like to feel indebted to people. I want to earn my place here, even if it does mean scrapping by and getting my hands dirty.

Mariposa: Well I assure you- *walks up close to him* if you are getting anywhere in this network, it's because you earned it. *elbows him a little* You know Haku, for all I tease you for being soft, I actually really appreciate it. I know sometimes I can be... *teeters her hand* rough with targets that may not deserve it, so you being there makes for a good counter-balance. *blushes*

Mariposa: *scratching her cheek, embarrassed* And I just get happy seeing you every day. I mean... *looking up at him, as if judging whether or not to say something important*

Haku: Do you?... huh.... Never heard that one before. Although...most things people think about me, I try to ignore... or it goes over my head.

Mariposa: Well ignore what they say! *obviously getting mad again* And don't question what I say! Haku, if I say you make me happy it's because you do! And if I say you're amazing, it’s because you are! And damn it, even though you can be so thick-headed. I love you, and 50% of the time I’m not sure why! But I’m pretty sure part of it is just the fact your eyes are so pretty! And damnit, it’s not fair! *huffing from shouting so much, hasn't realized what she said*

Haku: Uhhhhhhhhhhhh............

Mariposa: What? You will get a fly in your mou- *realizes* .... *calculating the height of her window to the floor* ...

Haku: Are you gonna jump out that window?

Mariposa: ... I'm thinking about it. It's too tall. *dashes to her door but the lock is jammed* OF ALL THE DAYS!!!

Haku: If I were in your shoes I would do it... but don’t do it.

Mariposa: *frowns, too upset to think, and can't look at him* Is that... Is that all you're going to say? *covers her face* Look, can we just forget about this?... Please? *still fiddling with the door knob to unjam it*

Haku: Sure- *smiles* if that's what you want, I'll forget about it. Just for you. But it’s not something you should be ashamed of though.

Mariposa: *unjams the knob, then looks at him* I'm not ashamed. I just don't like rejection. *leaves*

Haku: .....rejection? ....HUH? DID I REJECT YOU? WHEN????!!!

[End of Event 3]

Mariposa: *in a park, has been in a bad mood* Ugh.... Why can't I just forget about it? *munching on some cookies with coffee*

Haku: *calling over*- Heeeey!!! Mari!!!!! There you are!!!!

Mariposa: *nearly chokes on a cookie* !!! *patting her chest to help it pass* GAH! *looks at Haku* DONT SCARE ME LIKE THAT!

Haku: Oh!!! Sorry sorry!!! *bows* I was just running by and I saw you so I wanted to swing by here. Literally!

Mariposa: *sighs and looks at him, trying to look professional* You don’t need to bow, it's weird in this context.... or any really. *puts her meal down* So is this just greetings? *not looking him in the eye*

Haku: Yeah, I wanted to talk to you.

Mariposa: *thinking: Please don't be about the festival* ....Okay.

Haku: You’ve been awfully distant with me lately. ...Is something wrong?

Mariposa: No. *rubbing her ear, looking down* Just a product of business.

Haku: What do you mean? You weren’t always like this, heck you used to tease me to no end.

Mariposa: You didn't like being teased. *looks at his cape* And acting unprofessionally leads to issues... Besides, I thought I gave you a mission with Brandon? Did you finish? You should file your report then. *gets up*

Haku: Yeah I did, but now I wanted to talk to you. Come on, tell me what's wrong?? Did I do something wrong?

Mariposa: There's no- *sees his eyes and guilt rises* ... *bites her lip* Fine, but not here... Let's go somewhere... emptier.

Haku: ....Are you going to kill me when no one's watching?

Mariposa: *frowns and pulls his ear* I SWEAR YOU DON'T HAVE A CLUE! *drags him to a quiet area in the park, letting go of his ear* How should I... *sighs* How do I even start?...

Haku: Ow Ow Ow!!!! ...... well.... how about what’s on your mind?

Mariposa: *looks at him and smiles* Well first off, this would have all been a lot simpler if you had agreed to the schooling. Then I could have confessed properly. Made it more final and clean cut. *sighs* After all, then you wouldn't have been my employee.

Haku: Wait? What do you mean? I don't want to go to school cause I want to stay here. Heck, maybe I'll work towards a higher position!!! Wouldn't that be sweet?

Mariposa: Haku, that wasn't the point of your schooling. At least not fully. Look, I wanted you to go to school, because after you got in I planned to confess to you, properly. Because like this, it's dangerous and awkward. I'm selfish Haku, and if you had rejected me. To my face... I wouldn't have taken it well.

Mariposa: *bites her lips* And I wouldn’t have been sure that if you did accept my confession, that you meant it. Because I'm your boss, and hold too much power over you. Not to mention, with me you'd always be in danger! And I wouldn't be able to handle knowing that I had assigned you to your death. *covers her face*

Haku: Oh... wow.... that's a lot. Hm, alright give me a minute to process things. You.... like me?... .as in... like like.... but you... don’t want me to work for you anymore.... because... you.... like like ...... me?...

Mariposa: Yes. Also say love, we aren't children. *feels like he isn't taking it seriously*

Haku: There’s a reason I’m saying like like you know...

Mariposa: *looks to the side* Well whatever... *arms crossed, feels uncomfortable* I don't get why you care anyways. I mean, does any of this really matter to you anymore? I figured, after assigning you to... *eyes getting watery* Brandon, you'd just forget any of this happened. And I could move on. After all, he's the one you want, so what does it matter what happens between us?

Haku: Well because I care about you too remember?

Mariposa: ... *blushes* Cause we're friends? *biting back the bitterness* Fine then, but I still need time away from you. To heal...

Mariposa: So don't worry about it. *wants to smile to reassure him but can't*

Haku: What's there to heal though... You didn't get rejected.

Mariposa: What? *looks hurt* Did you come here to make it official or something?!

Haku: No, of course not. I'm not rejecting you... I accept your feelings wholeheartedly!

Mariposa: ... *silent, processing* Wait what?! But! huuuhhh???? *bright red, eyes tearing up* IF THIS IS ANOTHER TEASE-!

Haku: WHY WOULD I JOKE ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THIS?

Mariposa: I DON'T KNOW? THEN I MUST BE DEAD! Beause this makes no sense! *confused, checking her pulse*

Haku: ....Am I really that bad?.....

Mariposa: !!! *suddenly feels guilty* Well... I just... I just never thought you'd look at me that way. I mean you said it before. You love Brandon... And you were pretty persistent on keeping it that way.

Haku: I... I know. Still maybe lately... my feelings and admiration towards him. Are...probably an illusion... I mean. I know in the end, he probably won’t care about me as much as I would for him... and maybe... I was just...deluding myself from the truth. So I wouldn’t be disappointed in the end. But with you it’s... different..

Mariposa: *suspicious* Different? Different how? *frowning*

Haku: I mean... You don’t treat me as less as a human being now than before. I remember when I first joined, I was like a lapdog to you too.

Mariposa: *shrugs* Well, that's cause I didn't know you. Back then, you were just Ivan's "replacement". You weren't part of the network... the family. Sorry about that.

Haku: From what I've heard Ivan wasn't that close to you guys either when he was working there... Most of the agents feared him and I've heard some questionable rumors about him... so I just assumed that me replacing him would make them cautious.

Mariposa: Well yeah... The guy was just so twisted... But that's beside the point! What does that have to do with me being different? If anything, I'm surprised you don’t resent me for how I treated you back then.

Haku: Better than most people really and you changed.

Mariposa: ... *looking away* So is that what it is?... I'm just the better "option"? *sighs* ...That's not love Haku...

Haku: Better? You're the best one!! ...Jeez, now you’re the one who's being thick-headed. I like you too, I think you're amazing and I'm glad that you treat me like a human being!! There's a reason why I'm only saying “like like” now... It’s cause I want to genuinely tell you that I "love" you for the first time.

Mariposa: *immediately turns bright red, turning back to him in shock* !!!* speechless, with a face that looks both unsure, but happy* ... *bites her lip before speaking* Prove it. *staring at his eyes longingly then at his lips*

Haku: .....Prove it? ........ oh! Ohhhhhh ....oh okay... *coughs* Ahh, all this is new to me so ....I probably don't know what I'm doing for my first time so ... bear with me okay?.. *softly gives her a small kiss*.... like that?

Mariposa: *feeling her lips gently, looks super happy* ... *looks up at him then pulls him into a hug* That's fine... For now. *chuckles as she buries her head into his chest*

Haku: Ahaha, alright alright. You can teach me along the way... *pats*

Mariposa: *looks up at him with a smirk, her confidence back* If you like I can teach you right now~ *uses his shoulders to push herself up, and grips her thighs to his waist so they are closer to eye level* And a lot more when we get back home~ If that's alright with you. *winks*

Haku: *very confused* Are you going to break me with your legs?

Mariposa: *chuckles* Noo~ But soon enough you might be breaking mine though~ *kisses him again*

Haku: Ahh? Wait WHAT????

[End of Support S]

#mariposa #haku #support #exsona #haku x mariposa

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all-about-buckyandsupernatu-blog · 8 years ago

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Thank You

Writer: Figgy For: @myfandomimaginesworld A/n: I don’t know if this is the kind of protective you wanted, but once I started writing, this is what came out. So I hope you enjoy it! Warnings: idk poorly written fight scene?

“Heeeey Y/n,” smiled Stiles as he shimmied beside you onto the seat at the lunch table.

“Hi Stiles,” you smiled, vaguely uncomfortable. You didn’t know him very well, but you certainly knew of him. Finstock was never one to keep quiet, despite telling everyone else to “shut it”. Anyone who has had a class with Finstock has heard the story of the “kid who wrote an essay on the history of male circumcision” instead of the actual economics exam.

“So what are you?” Blatancy. Charming. Also, what?

“Stiles, you can’t just ask people what they are,” his partner-in-crime murmured, aghast. “I’m Scott.” Hand extended, you stared it, only because you didn’t know what else to do with his hand extended towards you. You weren’t big on physical contact with strangers.

“Scott says you smell different,” Stiles continues, seemingly unaware of his words.

“I… smell?” You ask, pulling at a strand of hair and pulling it to your face to inhale. Smells normal. This couldn’t be about… could it?

“Excuse him,” says the popular girl with the complicated reputation. You know she throws great parties, but she also apparently runs through the forest naked, and has spent some time in the local “mental health centre”. You couldn’t help but wonder what these people were doing sitting with you? But you were beginning to get an idea. Best to play it cool. No need to out yourself as supernatural if that’s not what they’re here for.

“You’re new here, we get it,” smiles Danny the friend you made in computer science earlier. “But this is Beacon Hills.”

A large crowd of people end up surrounding you at your lunch table. The blonde that was sick and now kicks ass, the strong silent guy that goes everywhere with her, a guy with a flashy smile and scarf, a few kids in the grade below you, your history teacher’s daughter, the girl you heard growling in math class, the other lacrosse team co-captain, and the girl in your English class who leant you a pencil earlier and said “I’m just paying it forward,” when you thanked her. They all seemed friendly enough, but this… this was weird, right? Making friends at a new school is never this easy, right?

Something was definitely off.

Wandering through the preserve was proving to be less productive than you originally thought it would. It had to be here somewhere, the Nemeton. Your faerie ring had sent you out on this mission to earn your wings, and you were definitely going to get them. But first you had to find the Nemeton and-

“I told you she was up to something,” you heard Stiles say, “no one wanders through the preserve like this for fun.”

“I do,” responded a deeper, unfamiliar voice.

“Can you just for once not ruin things, Derek?” he whined back. “I know it’s your thing, I do. But she’s up to something.”

“She can hear you,” responded Derek gruffly.

“Shit,” he said, as you walked onto their path.

~~~~

“She’s here to drain the Nemeton of it’s charge,” announces Stiles tot he group. “No more supernatural junk being drawn to Beacon Hills. No more having to study for exams after a night of fighting off whatever supernatural being is drawn to it. I say we help her.”

“Shouldn’t we check with Deaton? Y’know, make sure there won’t be any supernatural consequences?”

“For once, can’t we just do something without consequences?”

“What even happens when she drains the Nemeton? Where does the power go?” asks Malia, who had spent a solid minute smelling you when you entered Scott’s house for the “pack meeting”. She didn’t look put off, just curious.

“I gain the power,” you said, excitedly, and when everyone turned to look at you skeptically, like they were about to stop helping you, you added, ”and it becomes my wings.”

“I really don’t think we should be helping a stranger get more power,” Derek grumbled, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, staring at you suspiciously.

“I’m harmless, I promise!” you declare. “Check out the kind of magic I do.” You outstretched your hands, wiggling your fingertips for show, and sparkles appeared in the air, the sparkles bursting into rainbows and more sparkles. The illusion lasted maybe ten seconds. It wasn’t the biggest trick you could do, but it was your favourite. “I’m from a peaceful faerie ring not to far from here, and I can assure you that if I don’t drain the Nemeton, someone else will.”

“Can you give us a better reason to help you?” Scott asks.

“Well… maybe I can help you, too. I can make a charm for anyone that wants one. Luck, love, a charm for shifting, glamour charms, the list goes on, really.”

The room is silent for a moment, before Malia asks “A charm for shifting? I could be a coyote again?”

You smiled softly at her. “I can make a charm for that, yes.” She started to look hopeful for a moment, so you added “I don’t make crutches. It’ll only work a few times, and it’s designed to help you learn how to do it on your own.”

“I’m in.” Malia looks visibly relaxed, like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

Slowly, a few others make charm requests.

~~~~

“Scott, it worked,” Malia tells him. “I ran around all night as a coyote, and shifting wasn’t a problem at all. It felt natural, and I think I’ll be able to get the hang of it.”

“For real? That’s awesome!” His smile soft. “Looks like we have a Nemeton to drain.”

~~~

When the group brought you to the Nemeton, you were all surprised to find a few strangers there. A tall, creepy woman with long, lanky fingers, thin hair hanging to her visible ribs, blue, slimy looking skin and glowing yellow eyes. Beside her was a man, shorter, head resting seemingly permanently on his left shoulder, a blank expression in his dark eyes.

Everyone was silent when your eyes met hers. Everything was silent. The forest around smelled like the musk of wet, fallen leaves.

When the woman spoke, her voice echoed throughout the woods like screaming fox, though she was speaking silently. “Hello faerie,” her eyes bored into you, and it you could have sworn it was the ground shaking below you, if it weren’t for your buckling knees. “I see you brought friends. Friends, hand faerie over.”

“What is she?” Erica asked you, holding one of your elbows.

“A predator,” you say, it barely coming out of your mouth. Derek and Scott moved in front of you immediately, Isaac and Erica on either side, Stiles not far away with his baseball bat.

~~~

The weres fought valiantly against the woman with the glowing yellow eyes and her puppet man while you climbed onto the Nemeton and began a power draining ritual.

You could hear everything going on - it was actually hard to tune out her creepy voice. It sounded like it was everywhere. With your nails grown into the Nemeton, the power slowly coming into you like air you hadn’t noticed you’d been missing, you were prone.

Scott was behind you, watching your back, while Malia fought against the long lady directly. The height difference was staggering, leaving Malia at a minor disadvantage. What she hadn’t accounted for, however, was the team work between Kira and Malia. You smiled seeing them working so well together.

A darkness to your left, you turned your head quickly to see the puppet man practically flying at you. You stopped breathing. Instinct said to block him, but with your hands still ingrained into the Nemeton, you’d have to break the ritual first. The Nemeton wouldn’t respond to another ritual after this one broke, and you would lose all chances of getting your wings. You held your breath as you tried to decide what to do.

You were just about to break the bond when Stiles appeared and struck the guy with his bat.

You could tell that he had just proclaimed some one liner, and he looked proud of it based on how he was smiling, but you honestly couldn’t hear him over the sound of your blood pumping in your ears. You had been so scared, and had almost given up your only chance at getting your wings.

It wouldn’t take much longer. And with Derek now on the puppet man, he couldn’t come after you now. The woman was still distracted by Kira and Malia, and quickly failing. It looked like she would give up soon. And when Malia slit her throat, and the fell to the ground, you figured she did.

~~~

“Do we get to see them?” Asked Kira

“It’ll take a few days for the magic to sink in and for them to grow,” you said, “but when they do, yeah, I’ll be sure to show you.”

A few of them smiled around their takeout as we all ate together for a celebration meal. You smiled, too.

“Thank you for helping me, everyone.” They all nodded, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I mean it,” you say. “If I had found the Nemeton on my own and encountered that lady, alone, she would have eaten me. You literally saved my life just by being there.”

Stiles wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “We’re kind of heroes around here. It’s what we do.” He shoved some food in his mouth as light danced off his eyes. “And just think: it’s going to be a lot calmer around here from now on!”

Everyone here seemed so happy, and if they let you, you might just stay.

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #derek hale #stiles stilinski #Scott McCall #tw imagine #malia tate #kira yukimura #nemeton #pack imagine #erica reyes #fae

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campbellhugh · 4 years ago

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Get Taller Breakfast Surprising Tricks

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How To Grow 2 Inches Taller In A Day

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#Get Taller Breakfast Surprising Tricks #How Can We Grow Taller

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laurakaye · 7 years ago

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This. Is. 60.

November 13, 2017

[Originally posted in segments on Facebook and Instagram.]

Yep, the secret is out. I turn 60 years old today. As I got closer to this day, I debated with myself as to whether or not I should reveal my actual age. I mean, I’m a very definite product of the music industry’s disdain for aging females. I’m happy to report that my original vision and goal won out.

Since my last birthday, I made a conscious decision to take my workouts to the next level, cultivating focus and determination to achieve the goals I’ve set for myself. This is a symbolic act as much as it is a physical one. My vision has been to hit 60 with a BANG, and use this to set the tone for this next decade of my life.

As I approached this scary number, I figured I had two choices. I could either cower from it, rail at it, get depressed by it, generally freak out about it; OR I could embrace it with immense gratitude that I’m ALIVE and turn it into a celebration.

It’s not easy – and I’ve gone through many existential crises these past few years as I age in an industry that views female aging as a bad thing - but I’m choosing the latter. Truth be told, I’m turning 60 no matter what so I might as well do my best to face it with a joyous stance.

I never thought I’d make it to 60, actually. The majority of my family either died young or has battled various cancers, so my entire life has been informed by the expectation that I’d never get here. But here I am, and I’m in good health, and I’m working my tail off to stay that way… because the alternative does not appeal to me. Am I creaky in the morning? Yes! Does it take a little extra work to stretch it out and move so I can stand tall and face each day? Yes! But I LIKE feeling strong, I LIKE standing straight, I LIKE seeing muscles when I look in the mirror; and being lean and fit is a major contributor to my happiness. For ME, this is powerful motivation.

Every day is a blessing. Even the challenges and heartaches and pain are blessings because they make you GROW; they build your foundation, they fortify you, they make you who you are.

The best piece of advice I ever received was, “You are not a victim. You are a survivor.” YES I AM.

Oh, and I’m 60.

And 60 ROCKS!!!!

My larger goal is to shatter the paradigm of what it means to be a biologically older woman in our society (because really mentally I’m just a total Peter Pan).

I don’t talk about my age much when I’m in professional situations, mainly because our culture is very quick to comment on and judge women’s appearances as we get older, like it’s a bad thing we need to fix. Very different story for men, but THAT is another topic entirely. ;)

We’re constantly bombarded with magazine articles that scream at us for daring to flaunt our personal style past a certain age. If you’re over 40, you can’t do this. If you’re over 50, you can’t do that. If you’re over 60? 70? 80? Well, if you’re a female in the MUSIC industry, you should just go off into the wilderness and disappear. And if you’re an older female in general, you gradually become more and more invisible.

 Well, that mindset is just not in my emotional makeup. Maybe it’s because I’m a creative person and creative people follow their own rules. Whatever it is, I’m Peter Pan. I may be getting older but I won’t grow up. I hope I never lose that feeling of joyous childlike wonder, or the feeling of reveling in the great highs I experience when I jump around the stage like a lunatic. On top of that, the louder I sing – aka the stronger I inhabit and project my power - the better I feel. And I never want to give that up. Why should I?

The more of us older women who continue to do our thing, continue to be vital and open and creative and STRONG, the better. Who’s with me? ;)

YOURS IS THE ONLY DEFINITION THAT TRULY MATTERS. Don’t ever let anyone else’s expectations define who you are or what you’re capable of. Boundaries are an illusion.

I’m the type of person who, when I find something that inspires and challenges me, I throw myself wholeheartedly into the task of mastering it. Total commitment. Go big or go home. I don’t like to do anything half-assed. I don’t like to settle and I don’t like to give up. I expand when challenged, I rise up to my fullest height, I work harder, I get more intense.

Earlier this year, I set a goal for myself to do a fitness photo shoot for my birthday and prepare for it like it was a competition. In a way, I suppose it was; since I was competing with my own personal best to see if I could take it to another level. I’ve been weight training and body sculpting and treating gyms as playgrounds on and off since I was 28 years old but, for the past 10 months or so, I’ve been rededicating myself and working harder than ever.

When I’m not on the road, I take cardio dance classes every single day (twice/day if my schedule permits), I incorporate multiple sets of core exercises every other day, and I have a set schedule of workouts that typically looks like this: - Saturday: back/biceps - Sunday: lower body, part 1 - Monday: chest/triceps - Tuesday: off, with the exception of a barre class - Wednesday: shoulders - Thursday: lower body, part 2 - Friday: off

My workouts were all going well but my brain started getting meddlesome as I got closer to the photo shoot. I’d look in the mirror and be consumed with self-doubt (“what am I thinking!”) and it was a daily struggle to get that voice of self-sabatoge to quiet down. At one point, it got so bad that I came very close to cancelling the entire thing but what kept me going was the overriding thought that I’d be filled with regret if I came this far and then backed down.

There is nothing like the sense of accomplishment when you set a challenge for yourself and you rise above every obstacle – both physical and psychological - to achieve it.

Self doubt. Aka self-administered toxic poison. It takes effect quickly and it stops us in our tracks. As a creative person, the sludge of “I’m not good enough” and “Why bother” and “I can’t do it” can sometimes be tough to push through.

So I let those voices have their say, I acknowledge them, and then I climb up and over and through them… because it’s all about keeping that creative valve open in everything you do. Dig deep to find the discipline and focus to make things happen in your life, and take charge despite the inevitable setbacks. I’ve gotten caught in the trap of doubting my progress and my abilities, and this is precisely when I need to remind myself of THIS:

“When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt.” ~Honore de Balzac

I have my cheerleaders and I have my antagonists. Both have great value. Cheerleaders keep me going, antagonists test my resolve.

My greatest cheerleader on this journey – and in my life - is my beautiful husband Mark. He’s quick to compliment me when he catches me flexing in the mirror, he continuously supports me every step of the way, and has been and continues to be a true voice of encouragement. Of course, part of this is a natural outgrowth of the love he feels for me - and oh how lucky I am to be the recipient of that love - but he, too, is an extremely disciplined fitness enthusiast who keeps himself in excellent shape, so he understands. While our methods may be different, our goals are the same. We want to live healthy lives and continue doing the things we love for as long as we are capable of doing so. My second greatest cheerleader is my child, Elijah, who seems genuinely proud of what I’ve been accomplishing and helps to push me in a forward moving direction whenever witnessing my bouts of self-doubt. In a very real way, I’m doing this for Elijah. It’s a legacy thing, it’s a motivational thing, it’s a demonstration of what can be accomplished with hard work and discipline. As parents, I believe we must do everything in our power to be the ultimate role models for our children. And, considering the state of the world today, I believe that in a larger sense we should try our best to be role models for everyone...

Conversely, there are people who say, “But you already look great, why are you doing this?” or “You’re going to overtrain and injure yourself!” When I shared the news with a couple of friends that I was changing up my diet in the weeks before my photo shoot so I could lean out even more, I got a verbal onslaught that literally made me take a step backwards. They said things like “When you’re older and you lose too much weight, your face will look haggard!” and “You’ll make yourself sick!” and “You’re getting too skinny!” After thinking about this for a bit, I came to understand that their comments came from a place of caring and concern. I took a defensive stance until I realized I could use this moment to supply even more fuel for my fire.

A few weeks ago, I was doing cable crossovers at the gym and there was a woman using a machine near me, who happily commented about my form while doing the exercise. She looked pretty badass herself and was also demonstrating excellent form. We starting chatting and I shared with her how old I am and a few details about my ongoing fitness mission and she astonished me by saying she was 85 years old, has been a runner all her life, and has done multiple triathlons with her now 92 year old sister (who is also still going strong). Her comment and her story made me feel so happy because, looking at her, I know that what I’m striving for is possible. Oh, and her name is FAITH. How awesome is THAT?

(Note above the above picture: Those of you who know me know that I generally HATE wearing high heels, especially onstage. I have enough trouble keeping my balance WITHOUT heels, let alone with them... but wearing them for this particular photo helped me to get my leg muscles to do what I needed them to do. They didn't last long - maybe just this picture - but they did the trick. lol 😂)

I’ve worked with several trainers on and off over the years and have accumulated enough knowledge to craft my own workouts and do my own thing but, since my goal here was to take this to another level, several weeks before the shoot, I supplemented my workouts by training with Nathan Blake (who, in addition to being my cardio dance instructor, is also an excellent personal trainer) and started working with a true fitness inspiration, Lori Glatt, to help me target my troublesome shoulder area. No matter how much I lift, it’s been hard to get that nice rounded shoulder cap that I’m after. Lori gave me some excellent tips on how to isolate this area, all without using super heavy weights, and all very mindful of a pesky recurring neck injury (from a long career of head banging - lol).

Acting on suggestions and recommendations from Nathan and Lori, I intensified my workouts, and adjusted my diet to “lean out” and lower my body fat level in an effort to get my muscles to pop more. Lori told me about a company called Nutropia, who customized meal plans for me based on my needs. They prepared and delivered 3 meals a day plus 2 snacks; consisting of between 1,200–1,400 calories and containing close to 100 grams of protein. In addition to protein, there were lots of greens, zero fruits, zero sugar, and only 2 servings of complex carbs per day. I’ve been able to maintain my “happy weight” (give or take) for years but, with Nutropia’s help, I dropped 6 pounds in 2 weeks.

Fitness photos generally require a tanned and oiled body so, the day before the shoot, I got the first spray tan of my life (Lori recommended Courtney Dorrien) so I wouldn’t look like a ghost. Now THAT was a trip. After getting sprayed, I couldn’t shower until the following morning, and then only just a rinse for the residue. With my just-refreshed platinum hair and newly super-dark skin, I looked exactly like Magda the tan lady from “There’s Something About Mary.” Kind of unnerving, I have to admit. Luckily, much of it rinsed out the following morning, leaving me with a more natural, healthy looking glow.

I was advised to stop drinking water 24 hours before the shoot so my body would dehydrate and my muscles would hopefully become more visible. Believe it or not, that was WAY harder than adjusting my diet. I normally drink a minimum of 64 ounces of water every day. I was allowed to have small sips but no more than 4 ounces worth, so I resorted to sucking on ice cubes. No lie, this was rough.

By the morning of my shoot, I weighed 109 pounds (at 5’3”, I’m usually around 115-117), my skin was glowing, and I was ready. I was also a starving, thirsty, headachy mess but I wasn’t going to let THAT stop me!

The shoot was scheduled for 2:00pm on Saturday, October 28 at Dany Holdstein’s Two Worlds, with photographer Luis Lozano, another Lori recommendation. I spent the morning puttering around my house in a haze, making sure I had all my clothes, makeup, shoes, etc. packed and ready to go. Now that the day was actually here, I couldn’t wait to get started. I arrived about an hour before to get ready. The gym area is empty there on Saturdays so we had the place to ourselves. I did my own hair and Lori did a stellar job with my makeup. I prepared 3 outfits and had a rough idea of the poses I wanted to do. Nathan showed up just as we were getting started and stayed for the first hour or so, giving me direction for the first part of the shoot, which was focused on poses that highlighted my legs. Lori was there for most of the afternoon, cheering me on. I could not be more grateful for the great suggestions and guidance I received from both of these incredible people.

For close to 5 hours, I had to contract my muscles for each shot, only able to breathe when Luis was adjusting the lighting and the scenes. I’ve done zillions of photo shoots but this was an entirely different experience. How to pose so each muscle group is highlighted? What should I do with my FACE? Smile? Serious? The Laura Kaye howl? (Yeah, that won out for the most part…)

I know there are things I could have done better, poses I had wanted to do but forgot about in the whirlwind of the day, but this will only serve to push me harder as I strive for my next goal… whatever THAT may be… ;)

Always be on the lookout for game changers in your life. Seek out mentors, people who inspire you to cross the threshold of your comfort zone into a place of expansion and growth.

The people who appear on your path and change you so drastically are few and far between. They are treasures and the kind of value they hold in your life cannot be measured.

Once upon a time, a chain of gyms opened just for women and I joined a place called Living Well Lady, and I took an aerobic class with a guy named Rafael Robles, a bodybuilder/dancer who introduced me to weight/strength training, the art of body sculpting, and more. Rafael became my first trainer, motivator, and cheerleader as I started achieving results. I met Mark the following year and was in the best shape of my life, which I’m POSITIVE contributed to us getting together, and ultimately led us to the life we now have with our beautiful Elijah...

It’s amazing how some things in your life can become obvious axis points, catalysts for growth and change. If I had never joined that gym, if I had never met Rafael, if he had not been that catalyst for change, who knows?

I’m grateful for everything that sparks my passions and fuels my pursuit of them.

When it comes to my pursuit of fitness, I have to include Nathan Blake in that select group of game changers.

I discovered Nathan’s cardio dance classes about 6 years ago, after I was complaining to a trainer at my local gym about how I needed to do more cardio but hated treadmills and he suggested I take a class. I went through a few instructors until the day Nate did a master class at my gym and every nerve ending in my body and brain was magnetized and mesmerized.

I started out as a “back of the room” person and, as someone with balance issues, I never considered myself to be that coordinated. I spent what seemed like an eternity tripping over my feet in massive frustration as I tried desperately to get it right. Nathan took note of my efforts and always pushed me even harder, sometimes staying long after class was over to hammer some of the steps into my head (and feet). As I gradually started getting better and gaining more confidence, I inched my way up front. I took a Zumba certification course so I could learn even more, and I even sub-taught a class (using Nathan’s routines) at a gym in L.A. during one of my visits to Elijah.

I’m captivated by the beauty and grace inherent in all forms of dance, and I’ve always been fascinated by and jealous of dancers. Even though I’ve always been a good “mover” onstage and I’ve developed my own style over the years, I never thought of what I did as dancing.

Participating in these classes awoke that secret craving to be a dancer and I’ve become very passionate in my pursuit of this goal. As I slowly started getting better at not only following Nathan’s choreography but actually anticipating some of it to the point where I could relax into the moves with more ease, I discovered that dancing feeds my spirit almost as much as singing does, and to say I’m hooked is an understatement. I’ve dedicated a lot of effort towards doing my utmost best to master this particular art form and it brings me indescribable joy.

When I’m dancing and I’m in the zone, I feel like I’m weightless. I’m 100% present in the moment and there is no stress, no worry, no obstacle I can’t overcome.

I’m also lucky enough to train with Nathan when time permits. His workouts are consistently creative and challenging and always get me the results I’m after.

Thank you to all the game changers in every aspect of my life... the good AND the bad... because you are the bricks and mortar of my foundation...

 I will never stop testing my limits or setting challenges for myself. I will never close myself off to new learning opportunities, or to things that make me grow.

People have been asking me why I did this. It’s simple really. I did it for ME. I did it so I could feel strong and healthy and powerful. I did it because there’s so little in life that we can actually control and I set a challenge for myself to see if I possessed the discipline to control THIS. Turns out that I do. I worked hard and I put in the extra effort. In fact, pushing myself past what I thought I was capable of has been an incredible feeling. At the risk of sounding narcissistic, I’m damn proud of myself.

I also did it because I CAN. I mean, who knows what the coming days, months, years will bring? I’m all too aware that I have lived more life than I have left, so I need to inhale the specialness of every new day.

People have also been asking what my secret was. Guess what? NO SECRET! I was relentless in my pursuit of elevating my fitness regimen to see what I could achieve.

I truly believe we have a responsibility to do the best we can with what we have at our disposal. Perception and attitude is key. We were all created uniquely and nobody is perfect. In fact, it’s not about achieving perfection because you simply cannot. However, you can embrace and be empowered by your IMperfections. We are perfectly imperfect. So own the spotlight, own your beautiful flaws, and try to understand that THERE IS NO WRONG WAY TO BE YOU. I tell this to the choirs I work with all the time…

You are a constant work in progress and you are the sculptor, crafting the most beautiful self you possibly can, with the tools you pick up along the way.

Thank you for reading my ramblings and reflections on entering this next decade! As I pore through all the great comments and PM’s and tagged posts I’ve been getting since I initially shared this on Facebook and Instagram, I realize that my larger vision of motivating and inspiring (in whatever way has meaning for YOU) has taken root… I can’t BEGIN to tell you how amazing that feels. As they say, it ain’t over ‘til it’s over. While we’re here and breathing, we must LIVE…

(Photos by Luis Lozano; makeup by Lori Glatt; clothes by Body Engineers Celestial Bodiez, Jed North, Champion; shoes by Heyday Footwear; spray tan by Courtney Dorrien; training/coaching by Nathan Blake, cheerleading by Mark Wood, Elijah Wood, and many others..)

#fitness #motivate #inspire #bodybuilding #strong #health #thenewsixty #fitnessmodel #strongwomenunite #exercise #fitover60

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