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antihero-writings · 4 years

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The Offspring of a Dream

Fandom: Bloodborne

Fic Summary: Why does the Doll call you “good”?

Notes:

Obviously the lore in this game is very hidden and up for interpretation, so this fic in part has to do with my personal interpretation of things, so please keep that in mind! I know there's a theory about the Doll being a Great One/Avatar out there (haven't read up about it much through), but currently I find there's something rather beautiful about the Doll truly just being a doll, who is genuinely kind, and just trying to help us out, because the game has little to no other characters like that. I also know whether or not we are "good" is definitely up for great debate, but I'm the kind of person who likes to see/read redemption into everything, so this is just my rather optimistic interpretation of events.

Also, I don't necessarily ship the Hunter and the Doll, but I do think it's a cute ship and enjoy content for it...So you're free to interpret the internal monologue as platonic or romantic, whichever you prefer.

This is one of the only times I've used second person, so go easy on me...I chose second person because I didn't find third or first nearly as compelling for it.

I'd really really appreciate it if you could leave a comment!! They seriously do make my week, and give me the motivation to keep writing!!

I also have another Bloodborne fic about Vicar Amelia's transformation, I'd love it if you could check that out too!! Links in a reblog!!

The Offspring of a Dream:

“New Hunter”

“Mister Hunter”

“Hunter”

“A Hunter!”

“Moon-Scented Hunter”

“Miss Hunter!”

“Good Hunter of the Church,

"have you seen the thread of light?”

“Welcome home,

Good Hunter.

What is it you desire?”—

No name.

Not a greeting, nor title.

No adjectives or addendums like ‘holy’ or ‘accursed,’ ‘beast,’ or ‘man.’ Not a crow, or a wolf, or an avenger, or a knight. Nor a roar of what you hunted.

A lonely hunter without a name, or a word.

Just a hunter, who may or may not be good.

And it was a doll, a doll who had a dreamer, but was equally lonely—

Is this all in my mind? Did I dream her up?

It was this Doll who said you were good, every time you arrived in the dream, always ready to turn your desires, the echoes of a scourge, into strength.

She said it faithfully, and it was not easy to recognize when she said it, it wasn’t a greeting, or a title.

It was a prayer.

Because she had watched a thousand “good hunters” walk through the dream, and a thousand fall. A thousand keep her company, a thousand ask for her to make them stronger with the echoes of their killing. A thousand become drunk with blood, trapped in a very different dream, that some might call nightmare. And a thousand become something other than a hunter…something other than good.

A thousand graves.

Graves for the ones who woke up.

So with a title she prayed to the moon that this one—this one—would be good.

That’s all she needed. That’s all any of them ever needed; one good man.

The title ‘hunter’ was meant to be synonymous with good. A force of holiness to purge the impurity. …But their name became equivalent with evil. Or maybe it was from the very start.

The spreading corruption burned.

Before the blood parched their lips and ravaged their bones. After. At the end of the day, we’re all human. At the end of the day, we’re all beasts.

Born of the blood… undone by the blood…

So she—inhuman, human—she prayed that one day there would be a hunter who could fight the monsters and not become one. That the blood wouldn’t burn and coil and wrap its tendrils around them, twist them inside out, and make them something more than just a “good hunter”…and so much less. She cast goodness over you, as if reminding you not to give in to the beast. Not to give in to your humanity. Reminding you that though you were a hunter, though you were drenched in blood, with heart full of holes, and brain full of eyes, you could still be good.

She put her hands together and she prayed. She prayed, and she helped you on your journey, she channeled death into strength, she whispered, and she tended to frail, living flowers, and feeble, dying, old men, and she cried.

Any god-fearing man, not burdened with an overabundance of naiveté, would know that dolls don’t whisper. They don’t ask if you love them. They don’t move. They can’t help. They don’t pray. And they definitely don’t cry.

Dolls sit lifeless on the floors of children’s nurseries, and the abandoned workshops of bitter, maniacal, old men.

Is this just a dream? Will I know you when I wake?

What’s waking worth without you?

If the gods don’t love me I still promise to love you.

You watched human hands twist into claws, skin into fur, faces into tentacles, tongues into snakes, and eyes into eyes, and wondered if perhaps this doll, with her porcelain skin and hair, with her tears and prayer, if she was more human than the rest. This doll—who asked about gods and love, who cared for you, who hoped even the worst hunters might be worth something in another, better world—was more human than the offspring of an old, forgotten town. More human than we, who are born and die by the blood.

How was she born, and how would she die? What caused her to breathe, to come alive? Was it just our minds, some ill-gotten, internal eyes? Was something so primitive as hope or love? Or was it the twisted will of some faceless moon without a man in it?

Is it just me?

Is it my mind?

Tell me she’s more than children’s toys, and old men’s dreams.

Tell me she’s real.

Could something made of metal and mechanics, and the puppet strings of our own minds die?

Do dreams die when we wake up?

Or, in the end when men are all either monsters or gods, would she stand in the wreckage, the only real, awake thing left…the only thing left that’s still human?

When men become gods, do our creations become human?

She watched them fall. She watched them reach for bare threads of guiding moonlight with human hands, and howl at the same moon with a wolf’s cry, and she still had enough hope left in her to call you “good hunter.” To believe that you would be different.

Did she say this to everyone? Did she hope every time? Or was it just you? And which meant more? If she hoped despite just how many had failed, or if she saw something different within you alone?

Here you stood, steeped in the blood of beasts. Ugly thing. Killer. Cold and merciless.

And she called you good.

Did that mean she saw the blood, and the murder, and thought it was good? Or that she looked past all that and saw the good still?

How could she, a doll, an echo herself, know what it meant to be good?

Perhaps she was made by someone who had seen a world with good left in it. Or a world which was evil, but in which there was someone like her, who encompassed all the good in the world to him.

Perhaps that’s what she was to you too. The good. The human left. Without her you may never keep fighting. You had no one else, after all. Your friends were either mad, or intoxicated, or destined to die, or destined for…worse.

Is she just a trick of the moonlight?

She was the embodiment of hope.

You tried to be good. For her. For the world. They all did. But most became drunk on blood, or knowledge, and lost themselves along the way.

What is it you desire?

It always starts good. Goals, on paper, always seem so noble. In practice, so bloodthirsty.

Laurence made a church. A force of holiness and healing. And he turned the city into a madhouse, a cage for monsters.

Wilhelm made a school. A place of mindfulness and learning. And he dabbled in rituals to hide the moon.

The old hunters thought stealing a child wouldn’t incite the wrath of its mother.

They all thought the world could be saved, that the plague could end through quarantine or amputation.

When they cut off the diseased heads the blood only spread. When they stayed in their houses they went insane instead.

The world needed more than a simple fix to return to being “good.”

The hunters thought they were fighting for a noble cause. They thought they were all good…and they turned into the very beasts they fought, awaiting another hunter to spill their blood, and start the cycle again.

The hunters only did what they could; keep killing. That was all they knew to do to get rid of the the beasts in this brick forest.

They needed a hunter who would break the cycle. Do more than just kill and give in to the call of the blood. Who would seek the paleblood, and end this dreadful night.

Transcend the hunt.

But how to eclipse the chase when evolution without courage is the name of ruin?

A hunter who would look beyond today’s night, today’s hunt, today’s beasts. Beyond the blood. Resist its seduction. A hunter who could learn where all this started, find it. And do what hunters do best:

Kill it.

—(For sometimes death is freedom, at least when it’s a dream)—

Seek the paleblood. Hunt the great ones.

—(And sometimes waking up is far worse.)

The formless blood wanted to have a child. Perhaps he thought he was giving those he chose a gift of a sort. Only horror followed.

Every great one loses its child.

One particular woman, long ago, held the name of this broken town. Perhaps it was only fitting that the child of blood and name was born in voice alone.

This child’s formless cries echoed through more than the nightmare; through the waking world—(if you had enough eyes, at least)—calling you to comfort it, to silence it.

Could everyone in the town hear it? Is that what drove them mad? Listening to a child’s endless cries, with no hope of comforting it?

Many had tried to contact it. Some tried to become gods…and misplaced their minds in the process. But you found it. Knowing it was not to be exalted, but destroyed.

You were a hunter after all.

So you killed the only thing keeping it alive, the thing desperately trying to play a lullaby and sing it to sleep.

You yourself played a tiny music box for it, from the beginning of it all—that belonged to a family ravaged by the blood, the hunt, which held a song about love and loss—just to hear it laugh, before the nightmare let out it last.

Cords of thirds. Cords of three.

One from the child of voice. One from the child of night. One from the child stolen long ago, sitting in an old, abandoned workshop.

A workshop alive now only in hunters’ dreams.

You could have left your own nightmare long ago. You could have woken from this dream and believed the world was not so dark, not so strange, not so fascinating.

But this wasn’t the only nightmare you had to liberate.

There was another, another for which all not-so-good hunters were destined—(and thus you too if the Doll’s prayers were in vain). They sent you there with a piece of a drunken man before you yourself became, inevitably, intoxicated, in this bloody bar, so that you could, perhaps navigate sleeping minds with your sanity in tact.

We, the offspring of an old, forgotten secret. Destined and bound by the chase.

So our forefathers sinned?

Ludwig thought he was holy, fighting for a noble cause, and he stood, accursed, in a bath of the blood he spilled, trampling the ghosts of those he killed.

Is it possible there exist moonlight in even the darkest nights?

When we reach for the thread of light, none of us ever want to know what it truly is. Hope can be so vicious that way.

The church turned their eyes from their hands.

All too often, when men try to become gods—or something akin—they become monsters. There's a reason the moon is out of our reach.

Laurence thought the blood would heal. That the gods wouldn’t mind a little thievery. He thought they could keep their humanity in tact, as long as they prayed hard enough.

And he watched the world burn. Watched his hope turn his universe into a waking, walking nightmare. And he burned in his own broken Neverland, ever searching for his own lost, rotted humanity.

Maria, beloved apprentice Maria—

…Is that you, my dear Doll?

Who was there from the beginning. Who vowed to forsake the blood—including her own. Maria, so sickened by her actions, who threw the hunt down a well. Who vowed to in death to be the hunt’s secret keeper, and sat, alone, a lonely princess at the top of the clock tower, alive by the puppet strings of a nightmare—

She sacrificed herself, her values, to purge you from the plague of wild curiosity.

A corpse should be left well enough alone.

And at last, behind time, was a quaint, sad, little village, that lay dripping with secrets, ransacked for its eyes.

A quaint little village where it all started. Where the sky wept, and sun collapsed in on itself, and the great lake held too soft and depraved a secret.

Every great one loses its child…but this one lost his mother.

A quaint little village where a sympathetic mother fell from the stars. Where her child was ripped from her, dissected for parts, by the very people you once thought were good.

The wrath of an angry god is to be feared. But the wrath of a sympathetic god is far worse.

And the wrath of a mother is a lasting curse.

Death is freedom, at least in a dream. But when waking up is far worse, we rewrite the past within our dreams.

This was an orphans dream, pulling the hunt into a nightmare, as he waited to be freed from reality, as he waited for a hunter to rewrite the sins of their ancestors.

As he waited for a good man.

And the spirit thanked you. And the hunt thanked you.

And the Doll thanked you, for a shackle she never even knew was there had been lifted. She thanked you on behalf of the first hunter, for he slept a little sounder.

But there was one last dream that needed slaying:

Your own.

You could have woken long ago. You could have forsaken it all for the sunrise, and left someone else to find the answers, left someone else to be good.

It would have been nice to believe the world made sense.

It would have been nice to believe the dark side of the moon wasn’t made of blood and bones, haunting a poor, old man.

Few dreams offer you the choice to die before the bad part starts—(or perhaps simply to put an end to all the ‘bad parts’ you’ve gone through, to negate the possibility of more). But you would not bow to a happy, false reality.

Neither would you allow yourself to be taken captive by the nameless presence of the moon, made to perpetuate this hunt endlessly.

You understood the word “hunter” was never synonymous with good. They lost that title before the hunt even started. They lost that title when a little orphan was stolen from his mother.

You understood at last. It was her. Maria. The one who threw her weapon down the well in protest. She—(or at least, a version of her)—stood by your side, trying to guide you back all this time. Trying to guide you back to the beginning, where perhaps her sins could be atoned for. Where perhaps there could be good still.

So in a lonely field full of flowers, it was not you who were released from the dream.

You had enough eyes to see and slay the presence of the moon, who had orchestrated this all.

We’re all just puppets of the moon.

…But a cord of three strands is not so easily broken.

So in the end you neither woke nor dreamed, but saw the world as it was—though through newborn eyes. A child of the hunt. A child of the dream. Not destined to create a nightmare…but perhaps a better reality.

When the Doll picked up your small body, she smiled at last. She knew you’d succeeded, for this was unlike any hunter’s death, or transformation, she knew. She knew you’d atoned for the sins of your predecessors. She knew you’d freed the children, the nightmares, and the men.

And she called you “good hunter” still. For she knew the gods listened to her prayers after all. She knew that though you were a hunter no more—

You were certainly good.

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coconutjelly · 4 years

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Inspiration

Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.....I did a thing.

I haven’t written published fanfiction in like a decade. Side note - when did we stop having to give disclaimers? I feel like I’m cheating, somehow?

Not the point. I published on AO3. It’s just a cute little oneshot I’ve been sitting on for a while, and it’s live, and if anyone would like to read before I dive headfirst into my Geraskier K*nk Bingo card, it’s below the cut, or on AO3.

Now, if you’ll all excuse me...I’m gonna go sit in the corner with my anxiety tummy ache.

Rating: General Audiences Additional Tags: Inspired by a The Amazing Devil Song, Song: The Horror and the Wild (The Amazing Devil), Friendship, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Gen or Pre-Slash Summary:

Geralt doesn’t always know what inspires a particular piece of Jaskier’s music.

Some, of course, are obvious.

After another fight about Jaskier joining during a hunt leads to a new composition. Inspired by The Horror and The Wild, by The Amazing Devil.

Geralt doesn’t always know what inspires a particular piece of Jaskier’s music.

Some, of course, are obvious - ballads of Geralt’s own history, never more than half accurate, or odes to whichever fair lady had stolen Jaskier’s heart that month. He sings just as much of heartbreak, which would make sense, given how often he takes a new lover, except that he rarely seems torn up at the end of an affair.

Others though, are more abstract. Last season’s ballad about the frozen beast of the winter wastelands being bested by a golden sun, for example. For a man who hated the cold, Jaskier wrote a lot about snow and winter - probably, Geralt figured, because he hated the real thing so much, he wanted to romanticize it.

Songs that don’t tell a story at all, with solemn lyrics of an ancient wood and wistful dreams of empty beaches, Geralt assumes those are poetic metaphors for...something. He never examines those close enough to puzzle it out; he gets enough wordplay from prophecies and sorcerers.

It seems that the young bardling is always composing something, and it doesn’t always result in a literal interpretation of events, or even of the world around him. Which brings them to this moment - Jaskier holding his pack, looking furious as Geralt mounts Roach, armed for battle.

“And just what am I supposed to do?” he rages.

“Make a stew. I’ll be hungry after the hunt. And be ready to run if it goes bad.”

“I will not!”

“You will stay with the camp, and that is final.”

“You-you brute! You are not my keeper, Geralt of Rivia!”

“And yet, I keep you alive.”

“Oh, haha, save a man’s life a handful of times, and suddenly he can’t take care of himself.”

“You know that isn’t true,” Geralt sighs.

Jaskier softens visibly, looking touched. “You really mean that?”

Geralt grunts wordlessly, then, “You couldn’t take care of yourself before I found you.”

The discordant shriek of indignation that leaps out of Jaskier at that would ordinarily be enough to make him smile, but he’s too tired of having this same argument over and over.

“You, my muse and wonder, would deny me inspiration?”

“You’ve written nothing yet from the last hunt you joined.”

“That,” Jaskier grits icily, “is not the point. I can’t control when the music speaks to me.”

Geralt is utterly done with this conversation. “Maybe you just can’t hear it,” he snipes, guiding Roach around at a canter in the direction the alderman had indicated. He shouts back over his shoulder, “Have you tried talking less?”

He tries not to hear the insults that Jaskier throws at him as he disappears between the trees.

It’s dark by the time Geralt returns with the head of his bounty, and he’s guided back to their campsite in part by the aroma of stew and in part by a melody unlike anything he's heard.

When he glimpses the bard at the edge of the clearing, Jaskier is playing his lute in a way Geralt has never before witnessed. He plays as though he must punish the elven-made instrument for a mortal offense, alternating between plucking the strings and slapping the flat of the wood like a drum. His notebook is open beside him, and Geralt can see a large smear of ink where Jaskier hadn’t let it dry before turning the page.

“Planning to murder another lute?” he asks casually.

Jaskier’s gaze slices to him with a vitriol that indicates the lute is not the victim he has in mind.

“I’m writing a song about what an arse you are,” he spits.

“Won’t do much for the public image, will it?” he quips.

Geralt swears he can hear Jaskier rolling his eyes. “I’m an artist for a reason, a wordsmith of the highest caliber. The meaning will be hidden in metaphor and imagery.”

“So only you will know it means I’m an arse?”

Jaskier grumbles something that isn’t quite words but still manages to convey an unpleasant meaning.

“Would you kindly let me work out my emotions in my own way?” He turns away from Geralt, which unfortunately is also away from the fire. After a few moments, he turns back to his only light source and continues strumming, drumming, and scribbling.

As Jaskier works, Geralt silently removes and cleans his armor and ensures his bedroll is prepared, before sitting in front of the fire to find steaming stew already waiting for him. He grunts his thanks as he takes his portion. He can feel the tension in the air, can smell the sullen rage still simmering in his companion. He has nothing constructive to say on the matter though, so he decides to let Jaskier speak when he’s ready. As anticipated, it doesn’t take long.

“I’m sorry for calling you a brute,” Jaskier says quietly. “And an arse.”

Geralt lifts an eyebrow. “And a pox-riddled horsefucker?”

The bard at least has the good manners to wince and look abashed. “Heard that, did you?”

“Hm.”

“I’m sorry.”

Geralt shrugs, going back to his stew. “You say a lot of things you don’t mean.” He lets the silence fall, guessing correctly that Jaskier is not done expressing himself, and knowing that he will speak again when he is ready.

“I’ve always been hungry for adventure. That’s why I’ve been with you, to be free,” he says sulkily. “But you treat me like a child who can’t manage himself out in the woods. You flit about the Continent as you please, yet tell me I oughtn’t do the same.”

“I don’t flit; I’m not a bird,” Geralt huffs. He sets his elbows on his knees, looking contemplatively into the fire.

Jaskier leans over to clasp a hand on the back of his neck, pressing their foreheads together, a gesture Geralt mirrors. It is a greeting of Witchers, and one Geralt taught him. It is the only intimacy they allow themselves, the only grounding touch on the Path. Jaskier stares him firmly in the eye as he says, “I am a man grown, Geralt. I know the dangers I’m facing.”

Geralt sighs, grinding his teeth and trying to keep in the words that might make Jaskier understand; the words that might finally send him away. Instead, he curls his fingers through the fine hairs at the base of Jaskier’s neck and presses his mouth to the young man’s forehead. It’s too harsh to call it a kiss. It isn’t passionate, nor is it chaste, but it is fiercely emotional and filled with frustration and concern.

He pulls back, still gripping Jaskier’s nape, and is both pleased and frightened to see the wide-eyed expression the unexpected gesture has earned. “I’ve walked the Path for five of your lifetimes,” he reminds the bardling. “You are a child, in this. Most humans would see what I see only in their nightmares. The Path is a parade of horrors.”

“I’m not afraid,” Jaskier whispers hoarsely. “I know I’m safe with you.”

Well that’s...that’s a new concept, entirely, and one for Geralt to Think About Later, but it’s exactly the point he’s been trying to make. “I can’t always do my job and protect you at the same time. Some hunts, I can’t afford the distraction. If I have to make a choice in an instant to protect you or to stop a beast from hurting more innocents…” He shakes his head, disgusted with himself.

“I know you’ll always protect the innocents first,” Jaskier assures him. “You’re a Witcher, it’s what you--”

But, “No, I won’t. Not if it’s you or them. Nor if it’s you or me.”

Geralt finally releases the other man, who weaves a bit on the spot, chewing his lower lip. "What if I learned to fight, to protect myself? You could teach me."

That does earn a frustrated chuckle. “You are a bold thing, I’ll give you that. Get some rest, little one. We make for the alderman at daybreak."

They bank down the fire and settle into their bedrolls after that. Geralt prepares to meditate, too exposed here in the woods to risk full sleep.

“I’ll keep asking, you know,” Jaskier says into the dark.

Geralt isn't sure if he means learning to fight or coming on a hunt. Either way, "Maybe in a few years, once you’ve got more of the wild in you.”

Jaskier’s new song debuts as a hit. The tavern’s patrons are all on their feet, stamping and clapping, roused by the passion and feral energy of the newest piece. As he predicted, not one member of the audience seems to realize it’s about Geralt being an arse.

Geralt is positioned with the best view of the room, as always, so Jaskier has the best possible vantage point to stare him directly in the eye while singing some of the more pointed lyrics of the number.

He finally sees a spark of recognition in Geralt’s eye the third time through the chorus, and knows the message has at least been partially received.

He’s called up for no fewer than three encores before he is allowed to return to his seat across from Geralt and the cold ale he gratefully accepts from the stoic man.

“Your review?” he prompts, thirst sated. “Three words or less.”

Geralt tries to glare, but feels a bit of a smirk steal onto his cheek. “Old man?” he chides.

“Well, you know…” Jaskier looks down into his ale, then back up through his eyelashes in a way that Geralt knows he knows usually gets him forgiven. “Artistic license.”

Geralt doesn’t always know what inspires a particular piece of Jaskier’s music.

Some, of course, are obvious.

#geraskier #ao3 fanfic #my fanfic

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tar-oh · 4 years

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Pick-a-Pile: What will the end of 2020 look like for you?

A lovely anon requested me to do a pick-a-pile on your life at the end of 2020, and so here we are! And, honestly you guys are getting spoiled because I used my Lovely Omens deck which was really intended to be only used for my own readings on myself, but I made the exception today because I connect with it really well and thought it would be fun to see what it would say.

For the piles I pulled out some of my collection of Argento movies for the piles. Choose whichever movie speaks to you! If you’re into Argento and you’ve seen them, then cool! Let’s be friends. Outside of that, that’s fine! Let’s still be friends! Anyway, choose whichever pile calls to you. Remember, take what resonates. This is not the end-all-be-all, and this may not be what really happens because it’s what the current energy is leading to. Your energy can change tomorrow and so can your future, so, don’t take it to heart. This is more of a fun, what-if. And if you get to December 31st and you’re finding that this is did happen for you, let me know! So, anyway. Take what resonates, not what doesn’t! Also, you’re welcome to pick more than one pile, so if you want to, you can! OKAY! Here are the piles:

Pile 1:

Cards: letter, book, fish, queen of pentacles, temperance, the moon, 10 of wands reversed, 3 of cups, judgement, uruz, othala, wunjo, kenaz

Pile 1, I think by the end of the year, things are going to be going better for you. I'm not sure where you are currently (like if these things have happened already, or will be soon), but I see that you'll be feeling more secure overall. There are a few specific things that I think may only apply to a few people, so I'll get those out of the way. Also, if you were going between pile 1 and 2, maybe read pile 2 as well. There's a lot about finding creativity in this pile, and you chose the movie Suspiria, which is technically a horror movie, but the base of the plot is that a girl is attending a foreign dance school. I think some of you may be dancers, or are discovering your passion for dance. I also kind of get this from the 3 of cups, since they look like they're having fun. They don't look like they're celebrating as much as other versions of that card, and they don't look like their moving very fast, so maybe you're into interpretive dance, or something? Maybe singing, so maybe you sing, but I’m getting more dance. Like, maybe you like to move slow, but deliberately. There is actually a remake of Suspirira that has interpretive dance rather than ballet like in the original. Either way, I see that you could be a dancer. And if not a dancer, I think you could just be really creative, but specifically something with music or dance. And again, especially because you chose this movie. One of the things that stands out with this movie is the score by Gobiln. They're kind of known for doing weird out-there scores (I’ll link a video of a song from this movie so you can see what I mean lol), but it's very specific to this movie, so I definitely am leaning more towards music and dance. Maybe you don't do it publicly, it's just something you do in your own time that really makes you feel good about yourself. A few of the cards can talk about creativity, so maybe you're just finding the perfect balance of how to express yourself. I think you're focusing more on this creativity at the end of the year.

For others, another specific thing I'm getting is that maybe you're graduating from or even starting business school. For others, you could be training for something specific for work. Or just training for something in general. Learning something. And others maybe its law school, or economics major. For everyone, though I see you learning something. Whether it be educational or just something random. For some, you may be learning about a secret through a letter or a book, and this could be about money or work. The Moon card really adds to this, so I think you'll be ending the year a little more enlightened about something. The movie also kind of goes with this! It's kind of a mystery and the main character Susie is trying to figure out what's going on in her school, and so maybe you'll solve a mystery! lol Maybe nothing so exciting, but I suppose that's also depends on the context. I do definitely take the moon to mean that this is something you're not supposed to know. At least NOT YET. Like, the moon always comes up for me like that in tarot when it’s something I’m not really supposed to know yet, so I think it's just something you're not supposed to worry about and be more present and when the time comes around, enjoy the whole mystery of it all. I definitely think you've gone through some sort of rebirth this year. I don't know if this is happening at the end of the year, or if you've gone through it already, but by the end of the year you're going to be different in some way. It could just be how you express yourself (going back to that creativity), or even who you're around. I feel like you're finding out who is good for you and who isn't, so its possible your friend group will be different by end of the year. And that's not a bad thing! As people, we all grow and sometimes we grow out of people. I think there could also be new people coming around too (maybe even meeting people online, which what the letter kind of hints to me and the song I was listening to mentioned a letter so I definitely am going with that lol). I think you're going through a lot of healing this year, and maybe more so near the end. And this goes with that rebirth. I don't know what's happened in the past to need this healing (but I suppose we all have our wounds), but I think you're learning more about who you are and what you like. I think you're doing amazing job-wise. You got a few runes that suggest prosperity, and I also see Queen of Pentacles and Temperance attributing to this too. The Queen of Pentacles is someone who is prosperous and abundant, but is also motherly (and I just am getting at this as a quality rather than you being an actual mother, so even if you’re not a mom, I just mean like having that kind of vibe to you). So it's like this good balance between knowing how to get shit done, but also doing it in a compassionate way. The Ten of Wands reversed can talk about letting go of burdens and simplification. So I think by the end of the year, you've weeded out what doesn't work for you. I think, especially after the year the whole world has had, you are learning what matters to you and you're living your life to it's full potential by the time we're leaving this shitty year behind. I think you're doing better in terms of finances, I'm not seeing that you're like super rich, but again, you got a lot of stuff that suggests prosperity. And this might not even mean just materially. This could just be that you're just feeling so much better about life and yourself. Maybe you're abundant with love, finding new love, expanding on existing love, whatever that means for you. I always take Judgement to mean karma, but I see this as good karma for you. And, while I was writing your pile out, Marina's Karma came on, so I definitely think the way you're ending your year is how it's supposed to go. Maybe the way to get there has changed drastically with the way things have gone, but either way, there were multiple paths there, so I think either way you were going to get there. So, your end of the year is looking good! I don't really see anything that concerns me, honestly. I think you're on the right path and you're going to be feeling good about yourself. I'm really proud of you!

Songs: (a lot of the songs were super specific, so I’m only posting a few of the ones that seem to stand out more)

The theme from Suspiria in case you’re interested (there’s a version with just the bells I listen to because this ones kind of creepy but it also makes me laugh)

these days - nico (this definitely goes with figuring out what you want to do, I think) watergun - lostboycrow (gonna be honest there’s like 5 artists and one of them lists himself like twice lmao so idk who the actual artist is. i feel that way about anything olivver the kid is involved with)

karma - marina

Pile 2:

Cards: 10 of pentacles, 5 of pentacles, the hermit, king of cups reversed, knight of wands reversed, 5 of wands, the fool reversed, jera, isa, raidho, the lady, the rider, scythe I'm seeing three possible scenarios, 2 are similar, but one is permanent as opposed to the other which is only temporary. So, first, I want to talk about the movie you chose. Inferno is part of a series by Dario Argento, but honestly the only two of the series at that matter are Inferno and Suspiria (the one from pile 1, so if you were going between the two, I think this means you should read that one too). I can't really give you too much about the plots of either because they're both really hard to explain without giving the whole thing away. However, I can say this: It's about an apartment building where people start to disappear from and the only thing that connects them is that they're starting to figure some things out about the history of the place. I can't get more into it, especially because Inferno is kind of an infuriating movie in that it has no main character and you spend most of it going "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON" which kind of leads me to your pile. I really think prior to what happens later this year or currently/ what already happened, you were in this weird state where you weren't sure where things were going. I think there was a lot of stagnation in your life, and it could also be in multiple areas (love, work, anything really). I think this lead to frustration and apathy on your part. I think there will be/ was something cut off. For some, it’s permanent. For others, it was only temporary. And, this makes sense because if this already happened for you, it could have had to do with quarantine. Maybe you lost your job or you did temporarily. I think prior to this, you were frustrated and feeling like this was it and you were kind of upset that it was all there was, but maybe this loss/end led to you realizing there was more to see/do in life. I think this is true for someone, because a cover that the Lummineers did of This Must be The Place by Talking Heads came on, and it's kind of like realizing that where you are is where you're supposed to be. I know, you're probably like "But that's the opposite of what you just said"! HANG ON! I'm getting that you're realizing it's not your "home" and "home is where I want to be..." and whatever this situation is, it's not feeling like home to you. Or, at least wasn't prior to the end/separation. For some, this was a person that was cut off. Either you were the one doing the cutting or someone else did (or maybe it was someone at a job or at school that you lost contact with because of closures). Either way, you realized just how frustrating this situation was and kind of went into Hermit mode for a bit (or will) to reflect on what transpired. Gonna be honest, because you chose Inferno, I'm thinking there's a lot of anger too. Like, there aren’t necessarily any super angry characters in this movie, but the name itself makes me think of rage. I always think of rage as being this really red hot thing, a kind of inferno. So, I see anger being involved. Or, for some of you at least. I think there was a lot of clashing/competition. Maybe arguments that ended in tears on someone’s end. Whatever it was, it was/will be cut off somehow and you'll be feeling more at peace. I think you're also going to be finding that you're definitely more stable and making more progress in areas of your life you hadn't seen progress in previously. In one of the decks I'm using, the Lovely Omens deck, the Hermit card makes the hermit look like she came to some kind of a conclusion, like an “a-ha!” moment with how she has her finger pointing up. And the hermit is someone who’s looking for answers. In the Rider-Waite deck it’s this guy who’s got a lantern, looking like he’s searching for something, but in this deck it’s like we’re seeing the moment she figured whatever it was out. I didn't intentionally lay it out the way it is in the picture, but it happened to be that she's above the Fool reversed, and I guess I see this as her maybe seeing that she can make that leap, whereas before she was hesitant and frustrated that things were at such a standstill. Maybe it was that this person or situation wasn't giving her any time to really do anything else outside of it, so maybe this time alone is making her feel like she can do anything. Now, you did get the 5 of pentacles, so I do think there was/is a period where you're feeling a little worried or anxious about finances, or just about anything really. But, I definitely see the 10 of Pentacles and the Hermit more than the five of pentacles card, and I'm seeing it as you figuring out that you can make a way to be stable on your own, not really needing anyone or that situation you'd been in. You could also read this as the 5 of Pentacles being someone else feeling a little left out, but I think it's for the best for the time being during this period of your life. I see that for some, this is a permanent cut. So maybe you just don't return to this specific job, and for other's again, it's only temporary. I do see that for some, this could be a relationship (Platonic or romantic), where you feel a little left out. Like you're not getting what you give, and this is causing you to be frustrated and moody. There may be harsh words being thrown around. But, again, this is getting cut off (by you, someone else, or just by the universe), and things are going to go better. Like, the ten of pentacles is a really good card to get, so I don’t see you being so bad off. Maybe this will be painful depending on who/what it is being cut off, but know that it’s going to lead to better things. So, things may have been rocky this year, or they will get rocky, but I see you ending it on a better note than where you were before the end of the year. Songs:

For pile one, I listed the song These Days by Nico and even though it played for that pile, I really think some of you could resonate with it, so I think you should look at the lyrics or listen to it. Also, a lot of the songs had to do with communication, so Idk. Maybe think about how you’re communicating with people, or how you’re allowing people to communicate with you (if at all, or if they’re just doing it in a shitty way. Have boundaries and speak up if you don’t think people are being honest with you, but also remember to treat people how you want to be treated) also, ngl i wasn’t going to link the theme to inferno but like honestly its so weird I have to. It’s not scored by Goblin like the other two movies but I get this song stuck in my head more lol So HERE it is idk maybe someone will like it too lmao

oceans - the wombats (there’s a line about selling an ocean to the sea and I really feel like this is kind of you and this situation you cut off, like maybe it was a situation you’ve been in time and time again and you’re finally cutting it off after seeing that it’s the same thing you’ve dealt with and the only way to stop it is to cut it off this time. like idk it’s hard for me to explain but i feel like this specific part of the song is something you should check out) movement - the higher this is me trying - taylor swift lambs wool - foster the people love me to death - GARDEN

this must be the place (naive melody) - Talking Heads cover by The Lumineers (they also talk about that same line I mention in the beginning of this and I think thats kind of funny that it stands out to them too lol) Pile 3:

Cards: Seven of Wands, 8 of Pentacles, Page of Cups, 8 of Cups, Knight of Wands, five of wands reversed, Ship, moon, sun, hagalaz, perthro, eihwaz

PILE 3 I THINK SOME OF YOU ARE GOING TO GET ASKED OUT. I have a bunch of reasons for this! First of, I pulled the Page of Cups and the Knight of Wands. Along with the moon and sun cards in my fortune cards (which don't necessarily mean love, but I'll get to it!). Also, the first two songs that played, were First Date by Blink-182 and The Pull of You by the National. Granted, The Pull of You is little sad (kind of about two people drifting apart, but still being connected) and First Date being about...well a First Date, but to me those definitely are screaming romantic feelings lol. But, we'll get to that later! You guys just kept getting all the love songs that mean something to me so!!! That's something!!! Like, I mostly just felt super mushy while doing this pile and I kind of take this to mean something. Firstly, I've been talking a little bit about the movies that each pile was represented by. Deep Red is actually one of my favorite movies (did I choose this pile before I pulled the cards? MAYBE. Do I think it's gonna happen for me specifically!? I don't know! But it might for you! Take what resonates!). It's a murder mystery and scored by Goblin (who I got to see play the score live during a showing of the movie last year for my birthday so!!!!). Basically, it's about an American pianist living in Italy who witnesses the murder of a neighbor and so he teams up with a journalist to solve the murder. They make a good team, and I think this is kind of playing into what I want to get at later, but first the big part of this: I think someone has noticed you. I think they're really attracted to you. Yes, I think it's physical, but I also think they're intrigued by you, especially because I think maybe you have some walls up and they can't really get to know you (I see the moon card in my fortune deck as kind of saying this, but it also can mean attention and praise, so I see this too!). I think they're seeing you as someone who has strength and has endured the trials of life. So, with this recognition, I think they're going to rush in and tell you how they're feeling and maybe ask you out. I think it's going to be really random and I also think it's going to end up being a compromise lol. I think you're going to be playing hard to get (but maybe it's not intentional, I know I'm kind of hard to really get to know, so I see how this could happen with someone). So, I see them working hard to get you to budge, but I think eventually you're kind of like "Okay, fine, but I choose what we do and when." Whatever it is, I see that it's going to go well I think you'll both be pretty happy. There may be a period after where you withdraw a bit (or they do) and think about it, but I think you feel a pull to them (which I think is why the Pull of You came on). The 8 of cups can talk about withdrawing, but it can also talk about loosing interest, however I don't see either of you loosing interest, at least not with everything else I pulled. This 8 of cups in this deck is really specific to me. In the Rider-Waite, he's walking away from the cups, but in this one he's just sitting and looking at the moon. And maybe this isn't you, maybe this is this person studying you before they ask you out? I mean, I think it's interesting I pulled one moon card and this one and the moon is so prominent to me in this card. Honestly, I think it's both! I think this person is REALLY into you. I mean, the majority of the songs that played were like really...They were about people liking people from afar, and also Panic Switch came on by Silversun PIckups and like I don't think it NECESSARILY applies to this, but I see maybe this being kind of a weird situation for you because maybe you're not used to the attention, so they like give you this attention and praise and admit that they like you and you kind of freeze up and your walls go up. So, like you panic? But, honestly, I think maybe you like them too. Like, Despite the seven and 5 of wands showing up, I'm seeing good in this. (I like it by the Maria's came on, so I really think you like them back lol) The runes add to it too, because Perthro means hidden secrets (and I take the moon to mean that too!), but I see the Knight of Wands holding up his wand, so it's like they're offering this truth to you. It can also mean change, and I see that this will change things. And Eihwaz can mean stability, so maybe this is something that at first is scary and uncertain when it first presents itself, but then it even outs (like with those negotiations where you compromise) and it stabilizes and you're just feeling glad with how it worked out. HONESTLY, I'm just feeling super good about this? So I think this is going to make you feel good too! And for those of you that didn't want a love reading, it could just be a new friend maybe, like someone that admires you and maybe you two have a good dynamic (like one where you could solve mysteries lol). I also think that both of you are creative, but in different ways. Like one could write and the other could be more into making music or playing instruments. I mean, it could be anything and maybe you're into the same things, but I'm getting that just from the dynamic between the two main characters in Deep Red, and I definitely get a creative vibe from this. And like, maybe it's a business offer. Like, you're asked to work on a project with someone. I think this could end up well. Any of these situations I think is going to go good, so I'm really happy for you!

Songs:

Deep Red Theme (since I posted the other themes. I listen to this one a lot actually, the bass is SO GOOD) first date - blink-182 (i promise i listen to other blink songs but this one just always seems to come up for these?!) the pull of you - the national howling at the moon - phantogram panic switch - silversun pickups (okay are you guys fans of good bass or something? bc i’m seeing a theme outside of my own preference)

groceries - mallrat i like it - the marías (you guys let me let this sit for weeks without me putting the link to this song? lol guyyss tell me things!) invisible string - taylor swift (i think its crazy this one played in the same pile the pull of you played bc I relate them together for many reasons? so like !!!! that’s tarot for you!!!!)

purest form - prince of eden

LET ME KNOW IF IT RESONATES AND ALSO MAYBE COME BACK IN JANUARY TO SEE IF IT PLAYED OUT THE WAY THE CARDS TOLD ME!

#tarot #pick-a-pile #pick-a-card

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love-kazin · 4 years

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VIXX as flowers

Notes: this isn’t an scenery. This is an interpretation of VIXX and flowers than can relate to them. So the pictures are along the post.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 690.

REQUESTED.

-x-

Cha Hakyeon: Jasmine.

Jasmine means grace, elegance and sweetness. Hakyeon's moves - dancing or not - are delicate and graceful, like a plum in the air or a performer on ice whom's powerful but prudent. His style is elegant. Being on stage or out of it, inside his house or on the street, he knows how to dress. And if it's a look that don't seem to combine, in some way will look amazing on him, just because he has the confidence to rock with everything. And his voice is sweet as honey, so he can sing any lyrics and would melt your soul. He also has an aura that shines, almost like he's a divine or mythological creature, depends on what you believe. Being all of that, N can play a role of a independent man that's also caring towards people around him, almost like a point of recovering and discovering.

Jung Taekwoon: Calla Lily.

Calla Lily means perseverance, fortress, purity. Taekwoon has endured a lot from life while dealing with his own issues the best he could. His shyness being an crucial point of his personality, didn't stopped him from persist on professional and personal life. He's stronger than we think, which means that he's reliable. Leo can support people around him because of that, and also because he's so pure that he would do it, even quiet. You'd be needing help, and he'd be by your side, making everything peaceful little by little.

Lee Jaehwan: Hydrangea.

Hydrangea means energy and obstinacy. Ken is highly energetic. He might seem the youngest along with Hyuk because this trace of his personality is very strong. He's also obstinate, which means he can and he will do whatever he wants and needs. Even if he needs to whine. He's stubborn, and that's not bad all the time. Being like that, Jaehwan can endure through ups and downs in life looking forward his achievement. So if you need a little of encouragement, Lee Jaehwan is the right guy to put you on your tracks.

Kim Wonsik: Peruvian Lily.

Peruvian Lily means friendship and loyalty. Wonsik is all about these. He helps everyone and is friendly enough to keep in contact with those people. He goes on trips with his close friends, he promotes anyone who's starting to develop a career. And he trust his friendships so much that he takes them to his own company to grow. Ravi is someone you can trust blindly because he won't disappoint you, because he's grateful for having you in his life, and in order to be thankful for that, he's the better version of himself that he can be.

Lee Hongbin: Peony.

Peony meanings are different in a lot of countries, but it's equally associated to prosperity, beauty and shyness, and protection. Hongbin is definitely all these adjectives. He can blossom alone or in group, doing his work or his hobby, and he can conquer anyone by his beauty and his timid personality. He's like a teaser, showing himself and playing with everyone's hearts but running away when people fall for him, and this isn't purposeful all the time. It's just how he is. He captivates anything. Hongbin don't play hard to get all the time. He cares for people and he protects them. Even if he doesn't need to or just wants to explain some situation. This means that Hongbin is someone who can be relatable and reliable. He wouldn't think twice to speak the truth and he'll absolutely be an amazing friend.

Han Sanghyuk: Gerbera Daisy.

Gerbera Daisy means joviality, energy and sensibility. Being the youngest among his VIXX members, Hyuk is learning how the world works and growing up at the same time he's being his precious self, don't letting the adult life take his youth. He's energetic enough to comport as a loud kid but also as someone who doesn't give up easily from what he truly wants. Hyuk's can express himself or whichever feeling he wants through his art, but he has the sensibility to understand how other people might feel with certain things. He can absorb and respect that.

#vixx #vixx writings #vixx n #cha hakyeon #vixx leo #jung taekwoon #vixx ken #lee jaehwan #vixx ravi #kim wonsik #vixx hongbin #lee hongbin #vixx hyuk #han sanghyuk

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starlling-writes · 5 years

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Bewitching Monsters - Elf (Aero) Part 1

Series Rating: 18+ Chapter Contains: no warnings Pairing: f/m BeMo Masterlist ☆ Writing Masterlist

For about a week, I had put off opening the mysterious box my elf courier randomly gave me. Apparently it was a present from him, though he had failed to mention that at the time. When I confessed to neglecting the box, he was understandably piqued. I didn’t mean to insult him; I seriously had no idea it was important for me to open ASAP.

Caera, wafted around me as I sat down, blade in hand, ready to open the gift. She had bothered me a time or two about it. Now I felt her excitement in the air as I cut the twine and opened the box.

First, I found a note. “A welcoming gift. I hope it’s to your taste. Perhaps I’ll see you at the Brumalis feis in this? Or not in this, whichever you prefer, Little Witch,” I read aloud. I groaned and tossed the letter aside. He was never going to let me live down how we first met—I was naked and he got a good long view.

I pulled a dress out of the box. Made of black chiffon, it was a simple, sleeveless, shift dress sewn in panels to give the subtle illusion of a spider web. Okay it was actually really cute and seemed like it would fit. It was too sheer on its own, but I had plenty of options to wear under it. Feeling giddy, I decided to play dress-up.

This was going to be the first feis I took part in since moving to Arvos. I missed the Autumnal feis because I was so busy settling in and dealing with Caera’s mischief at the time. I still paid my respects, but there was no celebrating beyond enjoying a large piece of fudge and a bottle of delicious mead. For Brumalis, I was thinking of going no holds barred.

Brumalis celebrated the end of the harvests and marked the changing of the seasons to winter. Since it began the season of death, it was also the time when we paid respect to those departed. Grand festivals went from sunset the day before, to sunrise the day after. Both autumn and winter colors were popular. Blending the color schemes was equally as common as costume changes. However, multiple outfits would not be wise this year. I planned on getting wasted. I doubted future-me would have the coordination to successfully change clothes without any troubles. And I really did not want to risk ruining my new dress—even if it was from a bothersome elf.

The next day, I stopped in at Honey Cup to grab a latte on my way to the archive. I had research to do and needed all the caffeine I could get. Plus, I was hoping that I’d be able to run into the air elf again so I wouldn’t need to track him down on my own.

“Sweet morning, Witch. You’re in here earlier than usual,” greeted Honey.

That was another reason I needed caffeine: I was up way too early for the schedule I kept. Sleep eluded me half the night. I was even able to watch the sunrise for once today—it would have been lovely if it weren’t for my unexpected guest. “I feel dead inside.”

“Spiced tea latte?”

“Yes. In the largest size you can make.” I leaned on the counter and stared at the menu. I never took the time before to look at all the food options they had. Most were fruit or vegetable based pastries, along with a couple hearty soups for the season. The café was still slow at this hour so I wasn’t worried with holding up the line as I tried to pick something. “I’m torn between a berry tart and a veggie pot pie. Both sound amazing right now.”

“How about the pot pie for now and take the tart to go?”

“See this is why I love you. You let me indulge in all my cravings. It’s also why I hate you—for enabling my poor habits.”

“What kind of fae would I be if I didn’t tempt my patrons?” She smiled mischievously as she handed me my tea. The warmth of the mug seeping into my hands was bliss. I curled up in the corner of a couch and sipped, savoring the flow of this magical life-giving beverage at this unholy hour. Within a couple minutes she delivered my food to me too.

Never have I scarfed down any meal as quickly as I did that pie. I was fairly certain it was spelled to be more delicious than any food could hope to be. Then again, I had been up for hours now with nothing in my stomach, so it might have just been my ravenous hunger. Still, it was heavenly.

“Hey Honey, how often does that one courier come here?”

Her eyes flashed up at me and the corners of her mouth tugged into a sly smirk. “Why the inquiry, dear Witch?”

“Don’t read too much into it,” I warned. “I just want to know if I should bother trying to run into him here, or just call for him at the postal court.”

She dashed over and flung herself onto the couch beside me—and partially onto me. “You opened the gift?” Her voice chimed with the joy of a child receiving the puppy they always wanted. It was a challenge not rolling my eyes at her gossip-loving reaction.

“Yes.”

“Well?”

“He gave me a dress and said he hoped to see me at the Brumalis feis.”

She jerked away, sitting up straight and cocking her head slightly. “Gave you a dress?” I nodded. “He, gave you a dress? He gave you—and just wished to see you there? Not ask you there on a—what have you done to him?” she accused.

“What? Nothing! We barely know each other. I think we’ve maybe had like—three?—interactions so far. Maybe four. I didn’t spell him, that’s for sure.”

She pulled her legs up and wrapped an arm around them as she placed her thumb to her lip. “I’ve just never known him to be the generous sort like this. I’d thought he offer the dress as a bribe to being his date, not give it freely.”

Her insight played weirdly with my heart. The only notable thing that happened between the air elf and myself was me flashing him. Was that enough of a moment to make him act uncharacteristic? I didn’t think my body was that special��being a short, small chested, jiggly pear. It was nice thinking my natural self had charmed someone to such a degree.

My joy dipped as the Honey’s finger dug into my cheek. “Someone’s blushing!” she sang.

“I’m going to the post now.”

“Fine, fine,” she continued to sing. She jumped up and walked behind the counter to grab the little bag she prepped my tart in already. She handed it to me, along with a small tea to go, and waved me off. “But expect to dish the deets at some point.”

“Sweet day, Neighbor.” I switched back to the default fae-name to pester her as much as she had me. It only made her smile more.

“And a very sweet day for you, Witch,” she winked.

The postal court was a bit out of the way from the archive, but it shouldn’t be too long of a detour. Not that the books were going anywhere. I had never been inside the building before and was a bit awestruck when I entered. Vaulted ceilings, towering columns, and rows and rows of equaling towering shelves filled with packages stretching back behind the large clerk desk bisecting the lobby.

Once it was my turn, I greeted the clerk and asked, “I was wondering if one of the couriers was currently in. Or if I could leave a message for him.”

“Courier number?”

“What?—Oh. Umm, I don’t know… his number,” I admitted. “I’m the witch from the southeast woods. Is there a way to see who has delivered there? He’s the only one that’s come by.”

“Don’t worry,” answered a voice behind me as a hand touched my shoulder. I turned to greet a familiar grin. “I believe I’m the one she’s looking for.”

“That was easy.” We walked off to the side of the lobby for a bit of privacy.

“I’ll come whenever you like, Witch,” he said and leaned against the wall. He pulled one of his vambraces out of his bag and started strapping it on his arm.

“Watch your words,” I slyly retorted. But we both knew he measured every word he chose well.

“Visiting me at work now,” the air elf said and reached in his bag for his second vambrace. “I might start getting the wrong idea.”

“I only came to thank you for the dress and accept your invitation.”

His eyes sparkled. “Perhaps I’m getting the right idea after all.”

“Oh, please,” I snickered. “I don’t know many people yet, and I’m going to be at the feis anyway. Hanging with you should be much more fun than partying alone.”

“Hmm. I prefer my own interpretations. Anyways, what color dress will you be wearing? We should coordinate.”

“What makes you think I’m gonna wear anything under the dress you gave me?” I teased, feeling my flirty side bubble up.

He raised his brow and gave me a knowing look. “Because as you’ve already demonstrated a second ago, you love destroying my fantasies.”

I shrugged innocently and took a sip of my tea. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see then. Or not see. Whichever I end up preferring.”

He chuckled darkly and traced his fingers down my arm. “Wicked, little Witch. You could kill a male with such trepidation.”

“Good thing I know how to dispose of bodies and am attracted to the other sexes.”

His laugh filled the room twice over, resulting in many looks our way from both employees and patrons. It sounded like summer, well into a still bright evening. He brought my hand to his lips. For three heartbeats, he kissed it. Slowly he brought his eyes up to mine and sent butterflies fluttering into my core. “Until the feis. Little Witch.”

I watched him leave and return to his work. The air felt lighter.

Brumalis was going to be interesting this year.

— — —

BeMo Masterlist ☆ Writing Masterlist

Story: Previous — Next

Character Arc: [Here] P2 P3

#monster love #exophilia #writeblr #elf x human #fae #elf love #fae love #fae x human #Bewitching Monsters

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putschki1969 · 6 years

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Wakana ~ B-PASS 2019 March Issue

Note: I finally got my copy of the newest B-Pass issue and my single (how come everyone received their CD ages before me? T_T)! Anyways, there is only a two-page interview with Wakana in this but I think it’s a GREAT interview, very nice and insightful (especially when it comes to the lyrics). You could probably read a lot into it if you wanted. It was money well spent. Please keep in mind that my Japanese is not perfect, all mistakes are mine.

■ After your time in Kalafina what did you think, what did you feel when you started singing all by yourself? 「It felt like I was going with the flow, like I was surrendering myself to the course of events. I was presented with lots of great opportunities, I got the chance to face many new challenges by going solo. It was a smooth and quick transition. Thanks to that I wasn’t forced to take a long break and I was able to continue singing in 2018」

■ So you went straight into your solo career without really getting the time to think about what you want to sing or what kind of singer you want to be...? 「Shusui, the composer of my song “Toki wo Koeru Yoru ni” asked me at the beginning, "what kind of songs would you like to sing?” But truth is, at that point the only important thing for me was to continue singing so I just wanted him to use my voice in whichever way he liked.」

■ You are happiest when you are singing. You wanted to become a singer ever since you were a child? 「I also really like drawing so back in elementary school I wanted to become a manga drawing opera singer *laughs*. Now the most important thing for me is singing and using my voice. When it comes to drawing it’s like there is a switch, sometimes I am into it, other times not so much. But it’s different with singing, my love for singing never changes, it’s always there and I am always having fun with it. Therefore I want to have confidence in my voice. Of course I am hitting walls sometimes and there are moments when I am wondering why I can’t sing the way I want to sing... but that’s just life, even if I have doubts like that, it can’t be helped *laughs* 」

■ When you overcome your troubles, when you cross those walls you will feel a sense of accomplishment, the songs born out of that feeling will surely convey a lof of power and strength to your audience. Also, by having a great time while singing you will nourish your singing voice. 「When I attend a live I am always seeking out voices that make me feel good, that cleanse my heart. Speaking of which, I attended some great lives by amazing people in the latter half of last year. They were all awesome! I was incredibly moved by those performance which made my wish to continue singing even stronger. I attended a Yumi Matsutōya live show for the very first time in my life, I was super surprised to see her dancing. Yuming-san’s performance was beyond anything I could have ever imagined, I couldn’t help but cry! 」 ■ I think your music also has this kind of quality to it. Your first single is about to be released soon. It was decided that “Toki wo Koeru Yoru ni” would be your solo debut? 「Actually, I have known Shusui-san ever since I was 19 and went to my first audition in Tokyo. We really transcended time, didn’t we *laughs*? Now after all these years have passed we are reunited again through this song, it sounds like the story of a TV-drama. This was also the first time in my life to write lyrics for a song.」 ■ What did you think of the song when you first listened to it? 「It seemed like the kind of song that would be played at the end of a movie. It's a collaboration between Swedish composer Anders Dannvik and Shusui so it has a sort of Northern European vibe to it. It’s not at all influenced by anything that’s trendy right now. There is a lot of weight to it but it builds up and it might not be noticeable at at first listen, at its core it is a quiet and relaxing song.」

■ So you wrote the lyrics? Did you have any experience or practice writing lyrics? 「I had written some short novels and poems in the past but never lyrics. I always wanted to try it but I didn’t think I would ever get the chance, it didn’t seem like something I was meant to do. When I received the opportunity to write these lyrics I was very happy but at the same time I also felt an enormous weight of responsibility. I worried about all the people that would eventually see my lyrics...,but no matter how much I worried, it couldn’t be helped, I had to write these lyrics, "I have to put my feelings into words!” “Ughh, it’s so hard to find words that fit the melody!” “I can’t write anymore!!!” Having all these things constantly going through my mind I got incredibly invested on an emotional level and eventually managed to come up with something. By the third draft I decided my lyrics would be ready for pre-production. Feeling relieved I pretty much collapsed and fell asleep on the spot. My neck was sore for days after that *laughs*. I really put my entire body into those lyrics.」 ■ The main theme of the lyrics is “separation”, I think depending on age the song will resonate differently with people. We experience partings in all kinds of life situations...people will be separated through death, there might be a farewell between lovers or we are saying goodbye at the day of graduation... I think this song can make people feel many different emotions and it can be interpreted in various ways. 「I had a lot of things on my mind when I wrote the lyrics. Parts of the lyrics are based on personal experience I guess. But I performed this song back in August together with an orchestra and then I sang it multiple times during my autumn tour. During these performances I read lots of different impressions from fans which also changed my interpretation of it. I am always curious to hear interprations by others. But there is one thing I definitely wanted to convey with this song, it’s something I firmly believe in...It is okay to say goodbye to lovers, to friends, to precious people, it is okay to face yourself and realise that you have left your old self behind. Farewells are inevitable but I am sure that one day we will all be able to meet again - once we have achieved everything we set out to do.」

■ I think there is a strong sense of separation and loneliness in the first and second chorus, especially with phrases like “over and over again” you can feel the wish to be reunited again. But then during the bridge there is this line here, “within this incomplete heart of mine you are there with arms wide open smiling at me” and you realise that your loved one has always been nearby, close to your heart. 「Memories fade away, each and every moment becomes the past. Even if you are merely living life away, your life ends up transcending time. That is why I think it is the most important thing to always look straight ahead and face life head-on. Within the grand scheme of things we are but a tiny root, just a little thing. I wanted to express this sense of loneliness.」 ■ There is a strong sense of hope and light throughout your song. The final chorus in particular feels very grand. 「The lyrics carry a lot of weight I suppose so I guess that’s why. There is this hope that even when your life ends, you know that you will be able to meet again. I put a lot of emotion into that particular part. I wanted it to sound as passionate as possible without making it turn into a scream. These lines were very difficult to sing.」 ■ There is heat and passion in this song but also a sense of translucency. I think that is also very reflective of your voice; your voice is like a weapon, unique and effective, hitting you right in the heart. During the final line “kokoro wa soba ni iru/my heart will be by your side” there is a pause between “soba ni” and “iru”. I thought that was quite lovely. 「After pre-production I came up with this idea, I thought it might sound nice. I tried singing it like that during my autumn tour and I really liked this moment of silence. That nuance of relief, of finally getting to rest, I wanted to include it in the recording and I think it turned out well.」

■ Speaking of your tour, the coupling song “Tsubasa” is a live recording from your Minabi BLITZ Akasaka concert, isn’t it? 「Since the A-Side is a studio song I chose a live recording for my B-Side. I thought it would be interesting to hear the differences, it will surely be lots of fun to experience that sort of contrast *laughs*」 ■ The melody and tempo are completely different, it is certainly a good contrast. 「 "Tsubasa” has a very courageous vibe so it feels quite different. 」 ■ Once again you wrote the lyrics? 「At its core the song is about being brave. It is very motivating and it can cheer you up. Takebe-san wrote this song for me, while listening to his piano demo on repeat I got this kind of vibe so I was able to write lyrics that did justice to the melody. 」

■ Within all this courage there is talk about a “town dyed in greyish colours” but you also write of “turning your face away from the dazzling lights”. 「Truth is, I don’t like having my picture taken and I don’t like being filmed. I do like the idea of preserving memories through photography and film and I am happy that we are able to do that sort of thing but I sometimes think that I will never be able to get used to this world of frenzied and blinding flashes of photo cameras. So the idea was to try and escape that grey world. If everything is black and white, you might miss out on many parts of this precious world. Imagine you love the sky for its beautiful colour, if the world were monochrome it would be a total waste. It’s this kind of feeling that I had in mind while writing these lines, looking at a world dyed in grey can be lovely of course but it is also nice to look at it in all its dazzling radiance. I thought everyone should get a proper look at this bright world.」 ■ So one has to spread their wings and fly towards it? 「By surrendering yourself to the stream you may be able to see a completely new world. It’s a similar feeling to always looking straight ahead at tomorrow and to make decisions that you won’t regret. Give it your best shot, spread your wings wide and fly as far as you can, this is what I wanted to convey.」 ■ We are faced with so many things on a daily basis and we have to overcome those things by relying on our own instincts. 「That’s right. Sometimes you may wonder why something is happening to you but truth is, it’s up to ourselves to decide how to handle the cards we are dealt. So much is going to happen to you but life and fate are nothing to be afraid of. Don’t be scared! Enjoy yourself!! It’s important to remember that because during our long life we will experience these kind of situations over and over again. From the point of view of an elderly person you realise that no matter what happens to you your experiences seem insignificant in comparison to the grand scheme of things. Keeping that in mind I was able to sing this song. In the lyrics there is an angel whispering, “At the moment of birth - Was it not decided that you would keep on living?” This angel is talking in a light tone... The words “keep on living” may seem a bit exaggerated but I wrote that line thinking, “as long as we keep on moving forward we are alive”. 」

■ It’s a song for everyday life I think, you are singing about ordinary change, about things that happen on a daily basis. Since it is a live version the wish to hear you live again grows stronger I suppose, you answered these wishes by announcing a spring tour that’s going to start in April. 「I was very nervous when I did my very first solo live tour last autumn but I also enjoyed it a lot! Now with the new album on its way the number of songs I can sing for my audience has increased considerably. I think it will be possible for the audience to experience a live that’s very reflective of who I am, it will be very Wakana-like.」 ■ Lots of things have been put into motion, where do you want to go from here? 「First and foremost I am grateful to be in an environment where I am able to sing. Therefore I would like to be a singer that can continue to sing. I would like to continue singing the songs that have been made for me recently but there are also lots of things that have been there before and that will continue to be there in the future. It may always be a bit troublesome but I think that’s fine. On top of that I would just like to be myself, I think there is a special coolness to just being natural. Even if things get troublesome from time to time, I would like to be a singer that enjoys singing.」 ■ When you are having a great time singing that feeling of joy will also be conveyed to your audience. 「Yes, I would like to have lots of fun with singing. That’s how I have always felt. I want people to look at me and think, “oh yes, this woman really loves singing!”」

Toki wo Koeru Yoru ni ~ English lyrics Tsubasa ~ Englisch lyrics

My Sweet Valentine’s Memory

While thinking of a childhood anecdote that “transcends time” and is related to Valentine’s Day Wakana ended up introducing her favourite chocolate "I remember handing out chocolates to the boys I liked back in primary school...*laughs* I was obsessed with pretty wrappings and other stuff. I would go to fancy shops to buy my wrapping kits. In primary school I was really into accessories like that." Did you make the chocolate yourself? "No, I usually bought it at the store *laughs*. I always wanted to do the chocolate myself but when I asked my mother about it she told me, “that’s way too troublesome!!” So I gave up on that idea *laughs*. This has nothing to do with Valentine’s Day but my friends and I would often gather at one of our homes to make sweets together. We made cookies and pralines." Do you like chocolate in general? "Truth is, I have never really liked chocolate all that much but there is one exception, Lindt chocolate, I love it so much! Long ago while I was in New York for a work trip I came across this awesome chocolate by chance, they were handing out Lindors at a store. These balls are so rich and delicious, even if you just have one you will be completely satisfied. It’s a beeline to happiness. What exactly do you recommend about Lindt? "There is a different taste to the milk! There are also lots of different limited flavours such as caramel, sea salt or strawberry. I think white-chocolate-chip might be my favourite, it’s so good~!! During the Valentine's Day season you will find lots of cute and pink chocolates. If you get the chance please be sure to try some of them (even if it’s not for Valentine’s Day) *laughs*”

#kalafina #my translations #my scans #b-pass #wakana #toki wo koeru yoru ni #tsubasa #long text post #valentine's special

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the-real-xmonster · 6 years

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The Definitive Guide to Winning(*) a Figure Skating(**) Argument on the Internet

Inspired by some choice messages that have graced my inbox/comment section recently.

1. Be devastating with your opening statement (e.g., you clearly are an idiot) and be nonspecific in your rationale - be as vague as the human language allows you to be (e.g., some people say so / I have a feeling so / my horoscope reading tells me so). Should your opponent require details, channel your inner T’Challa back at them.

2. Select words from your opponent’s argument, string them together in whichever order you like to come up with a sentence that is as offensive as possible, use that as an illustration of why your opponent sucks. Ignore their attempt to clarify themselves. Hey it can’t be your fault? They did type those words (maybe not in the order in which you decided to read them but who cares) and you have the right to interpret them however you like.

3. If your eyes can’t follow something your opponent pointed out in a video or gif / if any piece of information they related is new news to you, instead of asking for more explanation, immediately assume that whatever they tried to point out didn’t exist. Ain’t nobody have time for fact-checking these days.

4. Remember that attacking the human behind the keyboard is always easier than attacking their argument. Ad hominem works every time, so roll the dice and label them with any combination of your choice among liar, hater, anti, loser, nobody, hypocrite, etc. Make sure to also throw in the word biased here or there, and stress the point that they have zero credibility.

5. In conjunction with point no.4, you should assert your own credibility by singing your own praises. Choose from a menu of I’ve been watching skating for a long time, I’ve been to many competitions, I used to skate myself, I know what I’m talking about, I’ve done a lot of analyses (but absolutely DO NOT link to any, remember point 1 above). “Show, don’t tell” is a principle for geeks; modern rhetoric is all about telling and no showing.

6. Appeal to your opponent’s humanistic side by telling them that their argument hurts your tender feelings. If they disregard your emotion and insist on sticking to their logic, turn around and call them a cold-hearted snake.

7. Find out if your opponent has any favorite and insult them. If they like somebody who sucks it means their taste sucks it means whatever they say can’t possibly be true.

8. While you are at it, also insult your opponent’s favorite’s fanbase as a whole. Even if skater XYZ doesn’t suck, their fans suck, so by relation, they suck, and whoever likes them has horrible taste, then, see above.

9. Fact and opinion are one and the same. If your opponent disagrees with your opinion, i.e., if they dislike someone you like, their opinion is WRONG!!! It follows that everything else they say is wrong.

10. Finally, deal your opponent the most assuredly lethal of finishing blows by informing them that you’ve firmly made up your mind and nothing they say or do could possible change your opinion, so basically, you win by default before you even start.

I don’t know if y’all can tell, but I’m quite possibly fully fed up. So in the future, if any of you wants to launch an assault my way using one or more of the above listed strategies, consider saving us both some precious time by kindly accepting my unconditional surrender. I truly am too cowardly of a nobody to keep engaging in battles I am sure to lose. Thanks much for your consideration.

Notes:

(*) To be more precise: to feeling like you won (**) Applicable to non-figure-skating arguments as well, I think

#figure skating #random #maybe i should take a break from discussing things for a while #time to make this blog into a graphic blog again #y'all have any gif request?

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shoewave · 5 years

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Canjam Jams

Canjam is a one of a kind experience. Organised by Head-fi, these annual events are a unique space where audiophiles and their favourite manufacturers gather from all over the world to see, touch and hear the latest and coolest gear. For just those two days, you’ll be able to find yourself talking to the Japanese amp engineers one minute, and trying out Polish custom earphones the next. It’s a feast for the ears. But that raises the question - as we look for gear to listen with, what do we listen to?

Even in the very lively public space of Canjam, the act of listening to a track remains quite individual. I couldn’t help but wonder, what are the songs flowing through cables and drivers all over the room? For us audiophiles, what is the song we choose to press play on? So I went around Canjam Singapore 2019 and asked:

“When you have your favourite setup, what’s the first, go-to, favourite song you play?”

Below you’ll find responses from attendees, engineers, brand reps and distributors. Some interpreted this to mean test tracks, while others shared with me their favourite jams. The question phrasing is admittedly clunky, but I was hoping to get at that feeling where you listen to a song, and something clicks inside your heart. About that feeling when you unbox that latest buy and pick your first song to play for maximum pleasure. It’s not an easy thing to put into words, and after all, everyone has their own version of it. Nonetheless, I hope you’ll find this insightful in some way, and my heartfelt thanks goes to all those below who were kind enough to talk with me. In no particular order:

(Spotify playlist here)

Marco, Focal/Absolute Sound: Soulwax - Is it Always Binary. “And Queens of the Stone Age is good too.” With a background in producing electronic music, the pacing and beats on this Soulwax cut are something he really digs and listens for.

Megane, Focal: Diana Krall - Temptation, for the vocals, and Jennifer Warnes - Rock You Gently for that deep bass.

Kenneth, Focal/Absolute Sound: The Reddings - The Awakening Part 1. “Especially that bass slap.” He’s not one to pigeonhole himself into a single genre, but if he had to pick one this would be it. They usually leave the album on a loop for demo, so it’s one the whole crew’s gotten pretty familiar with, and for good reason - it’s an absolute banger. He also recommends the subsequent songs on the record: Doin’ It which has vocals, and I Want It for a slower mood. “But ultimately,” he adds, “if you don’t enjoy the song, what’s the point right?”

Lovin, Wired for Sound: Nobuo Uematsu - The Man with the Machine Gun (Distant Worlds Orchestral Version) “If the headphone can play this song without any problems, I’ll buy it.” He likes how the song takes you through the whole spectrum. Fast, slow, quiet, loud - all in 3 and a half minutes. He was kind enough to let me listen to it on his player, and it really gave my IEMs a workout. A very dynamic, energetic piece.

Takatoshi Seto, Acoustune: He responded instantly - ONE OK ROCK. Asked which song exactly, he had to think for a bit, then decided on one of their latest releases, Stand Out Fit In.

Andreas Schmitt, InEar: He paused, deep in thought. “Ok, you know what are...classics?” Then looked me deliberately in the eyes as he listed each of the following: Adele - Hello, Yello - Limbo, Klaus Bedelt - He’s A Pirate, Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake (Berliner Philharmoniker), Herbie Hancock - Cantaloupe Island.

Antony, Music Sanctuary: At first he took it to mean test tracks, but when I rephrased and asked him what puts a smile on his face, what he jams out to, he just lit up and responded with Twenty One Pilots - Fairly Local. Such bass power.

Ito-san, Kumitate Lab’s engineer: He truly had a tough time deciding, as he will have a set of as many as 20 to 30 songs for tuning each IEM model he makes, and that each set is unique and diverse with songs stretching across decades and genres. I then asked if there’s a song that shows up more than most, or that he keeps coming back to, and after much thought and some banter with his colleagues in Japanese, he replied that there is one song he likes to use to test dynamic driver bass specifically - Yonezu Kenshi’s 打上花火 (Uchiage Hanabi). “If the bass is not tuned correctly, you can hear it in the rumbling.” For bass-treble balance, he listens to BUMP OF CHICKEN - ファイター (Fighter). Just a note, this song isn’t available on Spotify for me, so it isn’t in the playlist, but it is uploaded on youtube here .

Kyo, Final Audio: “Ah...hmm...I think you may not know this singer...she is not really famous outside Japan.” He really enjoys female vocals - no surprise that he’s with Final then - and his first pick is MACO - Love for enjoyment, but also for testing because it’s usually on the top of his recently played list anyway.

Chingan, Final Audio: Lady Gaga - Always Remember Us This Way. This song is what’s on rotation for now, he likes to listen to the wide soundstage and fine details within.

Albert, fellow attendee: Hailing from Indonesia, Albert shared that Hoff Ensemble - Hva Skal Hende Nå is one of his Top 3 songs to listen to. They’re a Norwegian band, and this album is aptly titled Quiet Winter Night.

Piotr Granicki, Custom Art: FIBAE Black, the single-BA-that-does-not sound-like-one, went through over 20 iterations, and I decided to ask if there was a go-to song Piotr would use through that long tuning process. Like Ito-san, he had a tough time settling on one, saying that he tries to keep a big variation so that you know the IEM will handle a wide variety of things well. But, he kept coming back to Cane Hill - Singing in the Swamp. He would listen out for “this point about 30s in, where with just a drum beat, everything changes, and it becomes really loud.” Interestingly, unlike Ito-san, Piotr keeps more or less the same set of tracks in rotation across his models, so he can compare across his lineup more easily. I do wish I’d asked him though, whether listening to Singing in the Swamp gives him flashbacks of late nights at his workshop tuning up the FIBAE Black. Oh well, maybe next Canjam.

Herbert Zheng, Moondrop: Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 27, Mitsuko Uchida on piano. “Hey, she was actually very pretty when she was young,” says Herbert as I point to the album cover on Spotify. Classical music is the genre he mainly enjoys, but he chuckles and shares how working in the audio industry has messed with his listening habits. “We try to tune for the general audience, so we will look at everything in a customer’s playlist and just listen through the whole thing.” Which for him meant a lot of mandopop, since in China most western music and streaming platforms aren’t available. After all the pop though classical is still a mainstay in his playlist, alongside some J-pop nowadays (looking through the playlist, he actually recognised Uchiage Hanabi, though he knows it by the chinese pronounciation of the characters - da shang hua huo.) For this concerto he stressed that one has to listen to all three movements - though the first and third are his personal favourite.

Sam Roney, Dekoni Audio: Sam’s was the quickest response on the list, immediately shooting back with Moloko - Sing It Back. “Snare-heavy” in his words, it’s an energetic track that would do well on the dancefloor - the Boris Dlugosch mix is an instant banger.

Tal Kocen, Dekoni Audio: Tal took a bit longer to decide, but eventually said that he would come back to Fleetwood Mac. “Rumours, that whole record, you know?” If he had to pick one song off it, it’d be Fleetwood Mac - The Chain. A classic.

Masuda Masanori, MASS-kobo: It took a couple rounds of translation, but after he understood the question, he immediately replied with Jen Chapin’s Jesus Children of America, pulled out his player, connected it to his model 404, gesturing for me to listen. I do, and it’s gorgeously full and vivid. He uses this song as a tester when he builds each of his amps, but it’s also one he enjoys. It turns out he got the CD with this song from Jen Chapin herself, decades ago when an engineer in LA introduced him to her. “Very rare, that time only released in USA, not in Japan. I also visited the recording studio where they recorded this album, showed them my amps, and the engineers there were very impressed,” he says, grinning.

And that rounds it up...with no Hotel California at all, make of that what you will. Thanks again to the above folks for taking the time to entertain my questions. Even with all the high-end gear on show, one of the most valuable things at Canjam is always the community, the people, the conversations you have. It was wonderful getting all these different perspectives on audio and hearing how people enjoy their music. In the course of all these conversations, unavoidably the age-old question arose from time to time: are you using your gear to listen to your music, or using music to listen to your gear? Maybe even both? In the end we all agreed it’s a personal thing. You listen to what you like, you find tracks that work for you, whether you’re tuning an IEM, testing cans at the store, or just laid back at home. In that sense I admit that asking people to pick just one track is unfair. As many of the people listed above mentioned, one song isn’t going to cover all your moods, all the frequency ranges.

But in this case, it’s not about the perfect track, but rather the perfect moment. It’s that that song or album or band that sticks out in your memory. Maybe it’s only with a specific setup, or it could be any old headphone, whichever. The music that when you first heard, or hear it now, just makes something click inside, you know? Just gives you that feeling of rightness.

I remember fondly what that feels like for me, and I wanted to know how it was for others, hence this playlist. 16 different ‘peak listening experiences’, so to speak. What’s yours?

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mybukz · 6 years

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Review: At Night We Come Out by Yanna Hashri

Title: At Night We Come Out Author : Yanna Hashri Genre: Poetry Format: Paperback, 24 pages Price: RM10 Released: August 20, 2018 Reviewer: Jeremy Chin

First, a disclaimer from me. In her poem, Wondering, You Wander, Yanna Hashri speaks of “the soul, looking for/whichever god will/house its needs”. Reality bends itself to our biases, and we all have a mesh over our eyes that lets through only that which we want to see. What follows is my take on Yanna Hashri’s collection of nineteen poems, through a lens that is entirely my own. A fair bit, I reckon, I’ve interpreted differently from was intended, but poetry is beautiful in that way; its cryptic nature leaves it open, invites you to give meaning to it, to make of it what you need it most to be.

A 26-page chapbook, At Night We Come Out is a light book with a heavy message. I found a few recurring themes in this body of work, and have sectioned my review accordingly.

ENTRAPMENT

Every time we get caught in an eddy of anxiety and depression, we create a prison for ourselves. The walls, as they become more stifling, induce reflection and expression, and have compelled many to push pen to paper, which perhaps is why entrapment shows up as a common theme in many poems, including Yanna’s.

In her poem The Weight of Her Light, she writes, “only blindness of self/ could make the night’s sky a cage” and “When she could take no more/the night begged me to let her go/ but all that flew out of my mouth was a bird the shape of death/tumbling down a black hole/its wings cutting deep into the edges of a universe”.

In her next piece, Three Paths, she speaks of the “map of the human heart/with no side doors or exits?”. In the Oldest of Ghosts she unleashes this line, “Time is a ponderous jest/under which I cup my tears”.

The outcome is a little different in Shhh, a poem on physical abuse, breaking out of the silence, and payback, which she artfully brings to life using the concept of shapes. Often it is the aggressor who entraps, smothers the voice of the weak, but in this instance, the victim refuses to stay down, and violence finds its way back to its owner.

LOVE

A few poems of Yanna’s touch on love. The one titled Tempest depicts the destructive nature of flare-ups in a relationship, how they sometimes come from a place that escapes reason, manifesting as “a one-eyed tempest/ howling up a fire from nothing/ until everything is wet ash”. Yanna goes on to describe how the cycle is renewed, her poem tapering off with the following verse: “She rages on and on/seeking answers to questions she doesn’t know/and in the morning, spent and shrunk/she wrecks herself, as always,into/ the moor of your battered arms”.

In her next poem, Curtain Call, she speaks of a house that had retained memories of its tenant: the blooming of her relationship with another, the “early tiptoe/of maybes and why nots”, the inevitability of rapture, the way their “hearts began to howl from the force/of collisions too violent to heal”.

“The song ends like so many sad things do -” Yanna writes, “sputtering to a stop as it drags/its last notes across the finish line.”. The house still stands, except the walls that once trapped in all the joy now cradles the emptiness that comes in the wake of love lost.

WAR

In many instances, we inherit the sins of our fathers. Yanna Hashri touches a fair bit on war and its implications, the way violence gets propagated from one generation to the next. In one of her pieces she opens with “The history of my people/is a history of madness”. In another she claims that there are only three paths to freedom: “To wade through decades of blood/To go mad from the silence of martyrs/To leap headfirst into the/ beast’s crepuscular belly”.

“Go look a mad man in the eye and ask/ how the flames wolfed down his heart/ and then tell me what you know of war”. In Neither Dream Nor Fable, she addresses the fire of violent conflict, the way it consumes everything in its path, how it makes us do the unthinkable: “We were hungry and desperate you see/ so we dug up the graves and sucked /the old pain from our grandmothers’ bones”.

The Dead Men Go Singing tells of the young who are exposed to war propaganda, who “gobble these songs up in their dreams like/hot fat dripping down their tongues/and into the proud swell of their chests”. Our youth are recruited into the violence and slain before they can understand its futility, “piling up mountains of useless regrets/ on the tips of blades they never learn to wield/until their bodies succumb to that last fall”.

DEBAUCHERY AND FALSE PERSONAS

In her poem Taste, Yanna brings to light how society is lost to gluttony, fakery and drunkenness, pointing to the idiots who could “drink/their weight in excess/and plop down to the earth,/sated and singing to each other/ in a language only beasts/ could understand”.

In her next poem, Hassia and the Fools, she speaks of a group of brutes, intoxicated by wine, wealth and lust. They fail in their pursuit of Hassia, who, to elude capture, “swam with swans in the day/and sang with wolves in the night”.

This theme of donning different personas trapezes into her next poem, Natural Disasters, where she writes: “Here comes Father in his suit and tie/choosing a face from the wall/to wear with care for the day”.

Final Words

Yanna’s Hashri’s collection feels like a walk through a gloomy cave with dripping fangs. But to my surprise, and delight, she concludes her collection with a piece that lights up the darkness, this turn-around brought on by the arrival of a child, her own, perhaps.

“You may have your father’s eyes/but you don’t have to look/at the world through them”, she writes in her concluding poem, One Day I’ll Love Yanna Hashri. “Gaze past the ramparts./It doesn’t matter what came before/or whose skin you were born into/… Lift your little boy into your arms/and wear his joy like armor/Leave all the bodies behind/and cross the moat/into the soft light of the morning”.

Yanna Hashri has produced an insightful, artistic and frighteningly real representation of the human condition, of a world lost to greed, violence and foolery. In her poem, The Garden, she writes, “The stories you cradle/in the dark palm of your hand/can serve you well if you/learn how to wield them”. I don’t know how autobiographical her poems are, but from what I’ve read, they appear to have been penned by one who has emerged from the fire a little scathed, a little scarred, but a whole lot stronger.

Yanna Hashri is a writer and editor with a degree in English Language and Literature. Her poetry takes inspiration from the complexity of human nature, surrealism and the magic of everyday things.

Jeremy Chin is a Malaysian-born author best known for his book FUEL, a story of a novice long distance runner who, fueled by sadness, wins the New York marathon. His book has developed a cult following amongst runners globally, and has been read by coaches, ultrarunners and Olympians worldwide.

If you are interested in obtaining a copy, you may do so at: https://www.amazon.com/Jeremy-Chin/e/B018LXOJJA/

#Yanna Hashri #At Night We Come Out #poetry #chapbook #Malaysian poetry #malaysian literature #Jeremy Chin #Fuel #book review

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ifourmindbeso · 7 years

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A very, very Merry Christmas

Anonymous asked: Dear Bering and Wellser, I am your secret Santa. What is your dearest wish for this lovely season? I can provide fic of a fluffy or angsty flavour, and will endeavour to write to any prompt you might like to give. Ho, ho, and additionally, ho. Santa ;)

Hey there, Santa — Every year I keep hoping I won’t need to say “please, no angst; the world’s angsty enough as it is”… but every year, here we are again, surrounded by upheaval and uncertainty. As for a prompt, then, what I’ll tell you is that the brilliant poet Mary Ruefle once titled an essay “Someone Reading a Book Is a Sign of Order in the World.” Interpret that idea, or whatever constellation of ideas it represents, as you prefer… or ignore it completely and go with mistletoe! Menorahs! Mangers! It doesn’t matter to me, as long as it’s Bering and Wells. And anyway, I’m already grateful to you, whichever nerdsbian you are, for being a part of this tenacious little fandom. This little fandom that is so big-hearted: it’s a gift in itself.

Merry Christmas, Bering and Wellsers, and to you, the lovely @apparitionism. This piece starts with the prompt above, but quickly goes off in a direction of hopelessly ridiculous. I don’t know where the inspiration for this came from, but part of it was definitely an illustration from the lovely @foxfire141 on tumblr. I asked if she would consider drawing something for this piece, and she provided the delightful illustration that, if I have done this right, should appear in the appropriate spot in the story. I have to thank her for her incredible work on this, and for her incredible talent. It has added to this piece in a way that I couldn't have imagined.

This is a sort-of sequel to my previous fic, ‘Aye, Zombie’. If you haven’t read it, you probably need to know that the Myka in this fic (and Claudia, Pete and Artie) grew up in Belfast, Northern Ireland. Myka is somewhat foul-mouthed but has a good heart, despite her somewhat questionable past. Helena is the HG Wells, who came forward in time because Mrs Frederic told her that Christina would die if she didn’t. Christina consequently lived to old age. I think that’s all you need to know, but you could always go back and read Aye,Zombie, if you fancy some unintelligible Irish-isms and questionable humour.

Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human race. HG Wells

“Now, you see, love. That’s what I don’t get. You wrote that thing about the bicycles, not Charlie, right?”

“Yes,” she said, patiently.

“So your great words to the world are that when you see someone on a bicycle, that gives you hope for the future of the human race? What about seeing someone with a book? Surely that is the thing that makes you think that, all right, maybe we aren’t going to explode in a nuclear apocalypse or die from extreme weather caused by global warming. Because people read, and they learn.”

“Well, I suppose I see what you mean,” she said, thoughtfully, looking far too fucking adorable in my opinion, “but a bicycle is a statement all of its own. It means that the person riding it prefers to travel under their own steam. Whether it’s for personal fitness, for the feel of the wind in their face, for the sake of the planet – it’s usually a good reason. A book – well, it can mean a multitude of things. If the book is the bible, well, I’m sorry to say it, but the person reading it could be wonderful, or they could be terrible. Christians come in all sorts of flavours. Evil being the one we’ve seen the most of throughout history. The book could be Mein Kampf. And again, the person reading it could be studying it, to learn about history so as not to repeat it, or they could be reading it to repeat history. Do you see what I mean?”

I looked at her, and I think my jaw fell open a little. After years of marriage – an idea I would have laughed about only a few years back – she still managed to surprise me.

“Do close your mouth dear, you look like a frog that someone’s trodden on,” she said, fondly.

I rolled my eyes. We might be in the 21st century, but my Helena was one of a kind. Victorian to the core. I expected her to say ‘spit spot’ and ‘chop chop’ at times, and then remembered that was just one of my fantasies. (I mean, Julie Andrews is hot, whether she’s in her twenties or her seventies.)

“Are you ready?” Helena asked, as we got onto the plane.

“I’m fine,” I said, scowling slightly. I hated travelling at the best of times, but flights like this – commercial flights – were the worst. You had no control, you were corralled like animals, you were shot if you moved an inch out of place… okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it certainly felt that way. I could feel the watchful eyes of the air marshal on me and the other passengers. Thank Christ we were in First Class. At least that gave me enough room to stretch out and the attendants tended to be a bit more polite. Mrs Frederic had agreed to ship me first class after the first flight when things had gone a bit… haywire because of PTSD. But sure I’m fine now. Honest.

I drained a glass of Bushmills before we even took off our coats.

The retrieval we were going on was a simple one. People in Flippin, Arkansas were turning into their favourite foods. Like walking, talking muppet puppets in the shape of fries or a bowl of their favourite soup or a walking burger. Pete and I had arm-wrestled for this retrieval. I won, but I promised I’d take lots of pictures.

Sometimes life in the Warehouse made sense. Sometimes it really didn’t, and you had to take advantage of those times, I thought, because otherwise you would take it all too seriously and go batshit crazy.

I drank a few more shots of Bushmills, studiously ignoring Helena dropping a sleeping pill into one of them. She seemed to think that the ‘B A Baracus’ approach was the best way to get me from A to B safely. She might have been right. I had dreams about dancing ice cream cones and that time we all burst into song because of an artefact. It was not pleasant, I can assure you. Helena Wells, despite her many fine qualities, is entirely tone deaf, and Pete sounds like a bullfrog when he tries to sing. Thankfully the rest of us managed to drown them out in the ensemble pieces, but their solo pieces were… ugh.

I woke to Helena gently shaking me awake, touching my left shoulder. We had come up with a code after a few too many attempted punches of her poor face. She had great reflexes, though, and I’d never actually landed a punch on her. Left shoulder meant everything’s fine. Right shoulder meant there was trouble and to grab weapons. Anywhere else on my body – that meant it wasn’t her, or anyone else I trusted.

I wiped my face with a wet wipe before retrieving my bag from the locker and I filed out dutifully with the rest of the cattle. Our Secret Service badges got us past the security on the other end quickly, a fact for which I was grateful. Who wants to be stuck in an airport a few days before Christmas with the entire human race crowded around you? Nobody, that’s who. The entire place smelled like feet.

“Shall we check in first before we go to find our walking foodstuffs, darling?” she asked, and I was once again struck by her other-ness. She was a part of this century now, but a walking anachronism at the same time. When I met her she did a great impersonation of a human from this century, but since we became a partnership, she didn’t seem to want to hide her true self as much. I liked that, a lot.

“We should check in,” I said, wearily. “I hate travelling love, why can’t you invent a transporter? You said you made a shrink ray, didn’t you?”

“I did, but making a teleportation device is somewhat of a challenge, even for someone with my intellect. If you do as they do in your Star Wars, you disperse someone’s molecules and send them somewhere else with the aid of some unknown force. But are those people still themselves when they come out the other end? One misplaced atom could turn you into a yeti, darling, and I really don’t think our wedding vows would cover that sort of mishap. I can handle a certain amount of body hair, but that’s just a little too much for my tastes.”

I made a harrumphing noise at her, and we made our way by cab to the hotel, which was the usual Warehouse style – small but clean, close to town but not in the centre. The check-in took approximately a week and a half, or so it seemed to my somewhat grumpy self, but as soon as we had keys, we dumped our bags off, showered quickly and changed, and went to find our victims. I brought my digital camera - for purely professional reasons.

“Agent Bering, Agent Wells. It’s a pleasure to have you here in our little corner of the world.” It was the Sheriff, the fella who’d called for help with this bizarre phenomenon. He got us, ‘Secret Service’ agents.

“I didn’t like that Flippin airport much,” I said, in my best vaguely-American accent. He laughed loudly.

“You got a great sense of humour, Agent,” he said, thumbs tucked into his belt-loops, his impressive belly jiggling as he laughed. He looked a bit like Santa Claus, but without the beard.

“So, this is the weirdest thing we’ve ever seen, even in a town with a name like Flippin,” he said, scratching his head under his Sheriff hat thingie. “The weirdest thing that’s happened here is when Jerry Dorsey married his future mother-in-law instead of his bride-to-be, and that was like, thirty years ago.

“When did it start, Sheriff?” Helena asked smoothly, not bothering to try to disguise her accent. Her American accent was terrible, so I was relieved.

“You aren’t from the States?” he asked, frowning. “I thought Secret Service had to be ‘Murican.”

“I’m a special liaison from Scotland Yard,” Helena said, lying through her teeth. “Emily Lake, at your service.”

He smiled at that, tipping his hat.

“A pleasure, Ma’am. We don’t get many of the President’s people down here, so I’ll admit to a little scepticism when I saw you were coming. As to when it started, well, Billy McIntyre turned into a doughnut about… 3 days ago. Every day since, we’ve had three or four people try to come into the station. As if we can help them. I mean, how am I supposed to turn a doughnut into a human?”

“They tried to get into the station?” I asked, intrigued.

“You ever seen a six-foot wide doughnut try to walk through an ordinary doorway? Funniest damn thing I ever saw,” he said, letting out a high-pitched giggle that startled me so much I almost shot him. As it was, I stared at him, trying to work out what the fuck the noise was.

“It does sound very amusing,” Helena said, in her rich voice, touching his arm to distract him from my confused, startled face. “Now, Sheriff… Adams, was it? Could you take us to the victims, please? And then we’ll visit the local eateries to see what each person ate in the days before their… um, metamorphosis.”

“Of course,” he said, smiling at her. She was always a charmer, my Helena. I don’t know how she did it, but she charmed the knickers off anyone who looked at her for more than a few minutes. The only person I’d ever met who was even a little bit immune was Mrs Frederic, and even she had a soft spot for Helena, though she wouldn’t admit it.

I had to seriously get a hold of myself when we stepped into the sheriff’s station. We stepped into a back room, where I assumed they did their morning briefings. There were a variety of people there, all looking like they were wearing costumes of their favourite foods. Unfortunately, those people were the costumes. There was a man in the corner who was the 6ft-wide doughnut, and a woman in front of me (I assumed, because the muppet was wearing lipstick) who was a box of fries from a burger restaurant. And a dude who was a large bowl of phō, which I found even more hilarious than the others, because every time he moved, he spilled the contents of the ‘bowl’ everywhere.

We had chicken and waffles, an egg salad sandwich (and Jesus, that fucker must have been the dullest) and a tall man who looked like chunks of tofu with sesame seeds on it. It seemed even the vegans weren’t immune to the effects.

I kept what I thought was an admirably straight face as we questioned the food-people. No-one had been to the same place – that would have been too easy – but they had all eaten at various restaurants and fast-food haunts during the past week, so we made a list and split up, checking each one with artefact spray to see if anything reacted. I got strange looks from people at the diner and the Vietnamese place, and I’m sure Helena did at the burger restaurant and the large dining section at the mall. But when we met later that afternoon, we had nothing. Nada. Niente. Bubkiss. Or as we say in Belfast, fuck all.

“For the love of Christ,” I sighed. “How long are we going to be doing this? I’m fucking starving, and I don’t want to eat anything in case I turn into a giant Chicken parm sub.”

Believe me, I have no desire to become a walking kale salad,” Helena said, sighing in that long-suffering way of hers. “But we have to get to the bottom of this. It hasn’t had any negative effects as such, or at least not yet, but it could. What if one of them gets too hungry and tries to eat another? What if they really taste of the food they’re… sporting?”

“That could get a bit… unfortunate,” I said, my mind drifting back to when Helena and I met, against the background of a civil war and a zombie invasion. Sure it sounds romantic now, but when you watch your neighbours eating each other’s children, it’s… not so much.

“To say the very least,” Helena said.

We went back to the sheriff’s station and talked to the people some more, jotting down dozens of different locations, places they’d visited, people they’d seen. It was a small place, Flippin, with less than 2000 residents, so those places overlapped. A lot.

“We should go to each location and rule them out one by one,” Helena said, studiously arranging them in geographical order.

“Should we split up, or go together?” I asked.

“Together is safer, but apart means we cover more ground. My thought is that we do it apart, because things aren’t exactly dangerous. Or at least not yet.”

I nodded. We took each other’s hands for a moment, squeezing, just for comfort, and then we split up.

I went to visit the local DMV office, the postal office, a home depot-type store, and a general store. There was no dice. Nothing unusual, other than that the town was still called Flippin. Oh, and they reckoned they were a city. There were 17 thousand people in the tiny section of Belfast that I lived in when I was younger. That was a real city, and not even a big one. Flippin was not a city. Americans, am I right?

I got back to the sheriff’s station and was informed that two more people had shown up. One was a man who had turned into a roast chicken. His face was on the breast side, startled eyes with giant muppet eyelashes fluttering in confusion. He must have been balding in his human guise, because there was a ratty crown of hair that went slightly more than halfway around the body of the chicken. I took down the details of where he’d been, doing my best not to laugh, and then interviewed the other person, a woman who had become a hamburger. It was hard as fuck not to laugh at that poor girl, because her top lip was a slice of cheese, and her bottom lip was a burger. Both of which had lipstick on them, in case we should accidentally mistake the walking burger for a male walking burger. She was trying not to panic, and every little breath made her cheese lip flutter in the wind, and made me have to fake a coughing fit because I was dying.

I took some photographs, for want of something better to do, and married up each food-person with their human photographs, sending it all back to Claudia. For professional reasons only, I assure you. And then I started to worry, because Helena had less ground to cover than I did, and she was nowhere to be seen.

I called her phone, but there was no answer. I did start to get a bit worried, then, so I called Claudia on my Farnsworth.

“Hey, Sir Mykes-a-lot. How’s it going there in crazytown?” It was nice to hear another Irish accent, I will admit. The Warehouse has four of us, but it’s rare to meet the Irish while out and about in the field. I mean, I’ve met those who claim to be Irish, but 23 generations back doesn’t count. Especially not if you can’t pronounce your own name. (I’m talking to you, Ni-am.)

“I’m grand, darling,” I said, rubbing the spot between my eyebrows. “My fair lady has disappeared though, and you know it’s not like her to not answer when I call.”

Claudia’s eyes narrowed. She did indeed know that Helena wouldn’t make me worry unnecessarily.

“Let me track her,” she said, already typing away furiously.

There was a silence, and I got a little alarmed, I will admit. But then she spoke, her forehead all crinkled up.

“She’s in town. Heading your way, actually. But the signal… it’s like it’s there, but it’s not? It’s almost transparent. There’s no setting in my system for something to show up transparent. I call magical hijinks, Mykster. She’s heading up main street now; should be with you in a minute.”

I nodded.

“Thanks, kiddo. See you soon,” I said. I made a mental note to buy her something tasteless before I left town. I was pretty sure somewhere like Flippin would have some really tasteless tourist shite. My favourite thing Claudka had bought me was a Hillary Clinton lighter, where Hill’s head flipped back and flames came out of her neck. I had managed to get her a Pope Pez dispenser in a little Catholic shop in a town near the border, and was still trying to top it.

I went to the door of the station, peering out into the dark. There was a figure approaching, but it didn’t look like Helena. It didn’t look human. I took a deep breath, my heart thundering in my ears. It stepped closer, and then into the light of a streetlamp. It was… a hot dog. A walking, presumably talking, hot dog. Another unfortunate victim, I assumed, looking around behind it for Helena.

As it put its weird muppet feet on the first step up to the station, I noticed that it was a girl. Due to the ketchup in the shape of a mouth. And the long hair that covered about a third of the length of the dog. The poor girl had huge brown eyes, and dark eyebrows drawn into a scowl, and then she stepped closer.

“I swear to all that’s holy, if you laugh at me, we are getting a divorce,” my wife said, muppet eyelashes fluttering in annoyance.

I am not proud to say that I immediately laughed.

I had to be lifted from the floor by two burly sheriff’s deputies, who kindly carried me to the bathroom. I was laughing so hard that I was close to losing control of my bladder. Even as I was sitting on the loo, I was still laughing so hard that I pulled two muscles, one on my back and the other on my abdomen. Tears streamed down my face and I howled with pain, but still I laughed. It took me forty-five minutes to stop myself from laughing, and even then, I started again each time I saw my own face in the mirror. Eventually I was calm enough to send a message to Claudia.

“SOS. Helena is hot-dog. Helena pretended her favourite food was kale salad. I may need an artefact to be sent that takes away my ability to laugh. Divorce proceedings imminent.”

I made my way out of the bathroom a little while later, finding the muppet version of my wife talking to Sheriff Adams. She was trying to coax him into doing something, I thought, because her stubby little muppet hand was on his arm and her giant muppet eyelashes were all a-flutter.

I beat a hasty retreat into a nearby office until I calmed my hysterics.

The second attempt was no more successful. I thought of the saddest things I’d ever seen, tried to turn myself into a PTSD-haunted robot by thinking about things I’d done in my past, but still… muppet Helena took me down effortlessly.

Eventually I was able to speak to her without laughing (much) and we determined that there were two places where she might have been caught up in the artefact’s effects. I continued to say ‘artefact’s effects’ after that because each time I said the words ‘food muppets’ she glared, and she looked even funnier than she already did.

Hot-dog Helena had onions and mustard down one side of the sausage. I don’t know why that made me laugh harder, but it did.

I fled the station, delighted beyond measure to be able to leave my wife’s side. I could not control myself, and I knew that I was skating close to the edge of divorce and/or death by muppet smothering. I kept breaking out in hysterical little bouts of giggling, and I knew I must have looked a sight, the tall Secret Service agent who occasionally starting cry-laughing over her muppet wife.

I visited the seedy side of Flippin, finding a small illegal casino-type operation that Helena had visited, and used the artefact spray to douse everything that didn’t move. And some that did. Nothing sparked. The next stop was the town hall, where a number of people on the list seemed to have been. I visited the mayor, a young attractive redhead, who urged me to leave a Christmas wish in the jar on her desk. Something tugged at me, then, because one thing I have learned as a Warehouse agent is that wishes have power. I sprayed the jar with the goo-spray, and it sparked. It sparked a lot. I grabbed the thing, relieved, and thanked the Mayor, who looked at me in confusion when I told her I needed to take it away, for National Security reasons. I swear, you could poke someone in the eye in this country and say it was for National Security, and they’d ask you to do it again.

I brought the jar back to the station, walking along absently, giggling occasionally to myself, when I suddenly realised that I was… different. My arms seemed shorter, and… yes. There was something dripping from behind me.

Now before you get all gross, there was a trail of marinara sauce behind me, mixed with cheese. Mozzarella, a little cheddar, and parmesan. When I tried to look down, I couldn’t. My eyes were widely spaced, I’d realised, and my mouth was way further from my eyes than it used to be.

So, I was a walking chicken parmigiana sub. Because unlike some alleged kale-lovers, I told the truth about my favourite food.

I sighed, trying to take my phone from my pocket, but my pocket was gone, under a pile of bread, I had to assume. I had an urge to try and pull some of the bread off and eat it, because I smelled really nice. But then I thought… there’s always a downside. And how do you explain that you’re missing a limb or a rib because you ate part of yourself when you were a sandwich?

I knocked on the door of the station, and a startled deputy let me in. He managed to keep his face straight, to his credit.

“Can you grab me my kit from the other room, son?” I asked him, vaguely aware that I had a bouncing crown of curls that had just drifted into my eyeline as I moved. I wondered exactly how ridiculous I looked, and stood there, waiting. The young man came back, his face purple, and I asked if he would take out the goo cannister.

Before I dunked the jar, I asked him to take a picture of me. I’d taken approximately 43 thousand of Helena, already, and turnabout was fair play. He did so, still managing not to laugh in my face, and then I dunked the thing. It hissed and it sparked, and still… marinara sauce dripped onto the floor.

“Shite.”

The fella ran off, howling, as the giant chicken sub swore. I didn’t blame him.

I went into the room where the rest of the food-afflicted were, finding Helena reading a book, holding the pages down with her muppet-fingers. I waved at her with my muppet fingers, and she laughed, and she laughed.

And she laughed.

It was possibly the stupidest thing that had ever happened in my life, and that included fighting with a group of inter-dimensional crime lords who started a zombie outbreak. It was hard to be professional about it, I had to be honest. I knew that, because there’s always a downside, it was potentially much more serious than it appeared – which was, of course, not remotely serious. I challenge you, however, to do any better, when faced with a roomful of muppet foodstuffs.

Having tried the obvious solution, to neutralise the artefact, I knew I had to contact the team. But my cellphone was somewhere in the in-between, I supposed, along with my Farnsworth. I grabbed Helena, and we made our way ponderously into the other part of the station, searching out the Sheriff. Sauce and cheese sloshed behind me as I walked.

Once Sheriff Adams stopped laughing, he set up a video conference with the Warehouse. I would have done it myself, but my arms were too short to go around my giant chicken sub body, and I couldn’t reach the keyboard.

Helena laughed about that until she wept ketchup.

We got no sense out of Claudia, none at all, and the poor girl’s mascara was everywhere, so I yelled for Arthur, and he, thankfully, just scowled at us.

“You both got whammied?”

I tried to shrug. It did not work, given that I appeared not to have shoulders.

“I found the artefact and neutralised it. I was wearing gloves, Arthur. But you know how these wishing artefacts are.”

He scowled harder, his eyebrows scrunching up like scary caterpillars, and he said nothing for a moment.

“Go sleep. Get some food. It can’t get much worse, I wouldn’t think. So eat something and sleep, and we’ll research tonight, and we’ll come back to it tomorrow.”

“All right then,” I said, rolling my eyes. Or trying to. I dread to think how it actually looked. Could my eyes even move? I wasn’t really sure; the perspective made everything look weird.

We went back to the room where the other foods were hiding out, and the Sheriff agreed that he’d get us some food, since we had neutralised the problem but were still stuck. It couldn’t hurt, right? We had pizza, all of us, and it was amusing to watch an eight-foot-wide pizza eating a pizza. The sheriff got us a load of yoga mats and big blankets, and we all settled down to sleep in our various food guises. When I lay down, my sauce stopped dripping everywhere, but the poor dude who turned into phō had to sit upright so he didn’t drown us all.

When I woke the next morning, I tried to jump up, and ended up just flailing like a turtle on its back. I had no idea where I was, I was trapped and I was ready for murder. Thankfully, I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was Helena’s muppet-self. That brought me from murderous to hysterical in seconds, and I lay there, helpless, legs and arms flapping as I tried to flip my sandwich-self up off the yoga mat.

“I’m normal again!” someone shouted, and I redoubled my efforts. One of the burgers helped me to my feet, and then I helped Helena, who was not exactly talking to me, to her feet. We turned and found that Steve, the giant pizza, was now just Steve again.

“We have to eat the food we’re craving!” Helena and I said in unison, and then we tried to high-five, missing spectacularly and ending up on the floor in a mess of mustard, onion and marinara sauce. It took the phō guy, Mr Egg Salad, and Doug the Cheeto to get us up off the floor, by which stage we were covered in various sauces, but triumphant.

The sheriff sent out a bunch of his deputies to fetch the requisite foodstuffs, and we took a sly picture of ourselves and the other victims to hang up at the Warehouse. One delicious sandwich (or hot dog, or potato snack, or burger) later, we all sat against the walls of the huge rooms, waiting for the magic to happen.

It took a few hours, and we were all terribly bored, but keeping ourselves going by chatting about Christmas and going home for the holidays, when there was a popping noise from Doug’s corner, and he turned from Cheeto to human. A few seconds later Phō turned to Phil, and I turned back into me. Helena, who’d eaten her hot dog slowly while pretending to hate it, was one of the last to turn back. Finally, there were a roomful of sheepish people staring at each other and wondering what to do next.

Helena, thankfully, got her human brain back quicker than I did. I was thinking about going to find another chicken parm sub, to be honest, because it had been delicious. But she stood, waved her badge around, told them all we’d been exposed to toxic gas that caused hallucinations, and one by one, our former foodstuffs made their way back to their families.

“All’s well that ends well, I suppose,” she said, sniffing, pointedly not looking at me.

“I suppose. It’s a terrible shame we have to get divorced, though. I was just getting used to being married to a Brit.”

“Hmmph,” was all she said, her arms folded, but I could see from the set of her shoulders that she was relaxing. I realised I might get out of this flippin’ town with my marriage intact, and I grinned.

We gave the Sheriff and his staff a non-disclosure agreement to sign, and gave them the usual rubbish about hallucinations and toxic gas, and they all nodded, shaking their heads. We went back to our hotel and tossed a coin for who got the shower first. Helena won, and I sat on the edge of the bed on top of a towel, so as to not get marinara sauce all over the bedding.

I sat there, glad to be human, flipping idly through channels on the television until she came out of the bathroom, naked in all her glory. I grinned at the sight, and she glared at me.

I wasn’t entirely forgiven, it appeared. I took myself into the bathroom, washed up, called the concierge to have our clothes cleaned, and then sat at the small desk to write my report on the incident. I studiously added all the pictures I’d taken, except the ones of Helena. I finished it up, scanning and sending it to the Warehouse, and then I packed up the wish jar - still inside the containment cannister – and the rest of my clothes. Then I gathered up my courage and asked my taciturn wife if she was hungry.

She glared at me as if I was taking the mickey, but I wasn’t, for a change, so she told me stiffly that she would like a salad. I am human, so I was tempted, but I ordered only a salad and did not at any point mention the words ‘hot dog’. I ordered myself a burger and fries and all the fixings, and when it arrived I scarfed it down. When dinner (which was technically lunch, given the time) was done I changed into my usual sleepwear, loose cotton tshirt and shorts, and got into bed. I pulled down the sheets on the other side in clear invitation, and Helena huffed at me, going to the bathroom again, where I heard her brush her teeth. She switched off the light and got into bed with me, and I could feel her begrudging it as she did so.

“There’s another bed, darling. If you’re really that mad,” I said, quietly.

“It’s fine,” she said, back stiff.

I ran my finger down her spine, just once. She made a huffing noise and then turned, putting her head under my chin, her arm around my waist. She was lying on my left arm, so I curled it a little, wrapping it around her body, and she sighed.

“You’re a complete arse, you know,” she said.

“I am,” I agreed. “But I’m your complete arse.”

“Hmm. What a catch.”

“Indeed I am. Catch of the century.”

“You’re a fucking pain, Myka Bering.”

“That’s Myka Bering-Wells, darling,” I said, lazily. “And I love you too.”

It was all right again after that, though she became somewhat frosty when she called the Warehouse the following morning and was greeted only by Claudia’s feet, Claudia herself having tipped her chair back so far that she’d fallen over. (I might have just sent our food-group selfie to her.)

On the flight back to South Dakota, she took my hand, both of us comforting each other as the plane took off.

“I love you, you complete arse,” she said, after a glass or two of red wine.

“I love you too, you gorgeous creature,” I said grandly, after three generous measures of Bushmills.

She sighed, took my hand, and fell asleep.

When we eventually got to the B&B after dropping off the artefact at the Warehouse, we were greeted at the door by Leena, dressed in her usual Mrs Santa costume. She looked spectacular, and Helena looked at me, amused, as I tried not to gawk. I mean, I’m married, not a nun.

Leena gestured at us both to leave our bags, handing us hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, sweet lady,” I said, with a sweeping bow.

“And you are a flirt, Mrs Bering-Wells,” Leena said, winking at Helena. We made our way to the living room, finding Claudia spread out on the sofa, her head in Steve’s lap, and Pete scarfing down a plate of Leena’s chocolate Christmas logs.

“Mykes!” Pete bellowed, jumping up and throwing himself at me. I hastily divested myself of my hot chocolate and accepted his sweaty embrace.

“Bout ye, Pete,” I said, grinning as he lifted me off my feet. He put me down, none too gently, and went to give Helena the same treatment. The look she gave him would have scoured the hide off a pig.

“Hello, Pete. If you put your sweaty hands on me, I will not be held responsible for my actions, do you understand?”

Pete backed away, mumbling about crazy Brits, and I hid my smile behind my hand.

“Hey, girls! We have some lovely pictures of you,” Claudia said, grinning up at us.

“Iks-nay on the ictures-pay,” I said, behind my hand.

“Don’t worry about it, darling. I did in fact grow a sense of humour about all this, eventually. As it turns out, this century has indeed influenced my Victorian sensibilities somewhat. I am somewhat ashamed to admit that, yes, hot dogs are my favourite food, much as I wish they weren’t. That does not mean I will be indulging in them, however. I will continue to eat a healthy balanced diet, unlike my unfairly slim wife, who seems to subsist on all manner of appalling foods,” Helena said, looking at me disapprovingly.

“They’re only appalling to you, darling. I enjoy them, and so does everyone else here. And you know that Leena makes sure we get a balanced diet. It’s just when we’re out in the field that I indulge.”

She shook her head, rolled her eyes – all the usual. I just ignored her and sat down with my hot chocolate. Leena appeared again a few minutes later with some churros which I happily dipped in my hot chocolate. I noticed that my lovely wife did the same, surreptitiously of course.

Claudia, Steve and Pete were talking quietly while a horrifically bad Christmas movie played on the television. I watched Helena quietly. She was beautiful, sitting there with the light of the fire flickering in her eyes. She took the occasional sip of hot chocolate but mostly she was sitting there, looking at the fire, her eyes far away. She was exceptionally beautiful, like a marble statue of a greek goddess.

I heard the piano start up from the other room. Arthur, despite his Jewish roots, has always loved Christmas music. Claudia jumped up. She has always had a passion for music, and this was part of Christmas for her. She wandered off to find him, Steve following close behind.

“Mykissimo,” Pete said, jumping to his feet. “You can’t miss out on the yearly sing-song.”

“I suppose not,” I said, polishing off my hot chocolate. “You coming, love?”

She looked up at me.

“Just a minute, darling. I’ll be right there.”

I smiled at her and left her to it. Christmas was a difficult time for her, I knew. Her little girl had always loved Christmas time. Sometimes she needed a minute, to think about her daughter and how she’d lived to be a grand old age. How she wouldn’t have done, if Helena had stayed in her own time.

Arthur was playing “Have yourself a merry little Christmas,” and Steve was singing along in a pleasant baritone. He had a nice voice, and I loved listening to him. Claudia came to stand in front of me, pulling my arms around her neck, and I smiled down at her. She was like my wee sister.

When we were done with that song, Arthur started playing “O Holy Night.” It was my favourite Christmas song of all time, and I knew that he knew that. He turned and winked at me, and I smiled back. When I was at a Catholic school in Northern Ireland, there was a lot of emphasis on music, and the harmonies in this song and the way it all blended together had enthralled me then. It still does now.

Claudia started to sing, her sweet, light little voice singing the melody. When the chorus came along, we all started to sing our parts, Steve, Claudia, Artie and me – Pete can’t sing for toffee. The chorus swelled and then it pulled back before the next verse. Claudia’s sweet voice made me smile. We reached the second chorus and I realised that I had goosebumps. I turned, finding Helena leaning against the doorjamb, watching us all fondly. The thought of her in her Muppet body did cross my mind, and I smiled to myself. That image wouldn’t be leaving me anytime soon. But the way she looked standing there in her blue shirt and jeans and bare feet, her hair loose around her shoulders, it just made something in me still for a moment. The combination of the perfect music and the perfect woman in front of me made me feel calm and relaxed for once, and if I’d been the praying type, I might have said a thank you to the baby Jesus or whatever right then. As it was, I just thanked anyone who was listening for giving me these people and this place, and letting me live in endless wonder.

Merry Christmas, everyone !

#Helena HG Wells #Myka Bering #Bering and Wells #Christmas fic #Warehouse 13

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realrhythmskrp · 7 years

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DISPATCH, 07/15/17: Mirage Media has officially released information about maknae, Yong Hanbyul, also known as Loki, on G-ZER0’s official website! Loki is a ‘98 liner and has been beloved by fans since his debut in 2013. Find out more about Loki below!

I, YONG HANBYUL, have read and understand the terms and conditions as my position of MAKNAE and agree to honor the standards that are to be expected of me as an employee of MIRAGE MEDIA.

OOC INFORMATION

Preferred name: Erika

Pronouns: She/her

Timezone: GMT+1

Other muses: None

Skype (this is optional, but if you would like to join the RHYTHMSgc please leave your skype username here): N/A

IC INFORMATION

Faceclaim: Choi Junhong (Zelo)

Name: Yong Hanbyul

Stage name (if applicable): Loki

Idol concept: Just a mere fifteen years old upon his debut and as the youngest member of G-Zero, it had been more or less officially decided that Hanbyul should be portrayed as the most innocent amongst his peers regardless of the situation. His remarks and suggestions were to always be downplayed, his reactions exaggerated and his intelligence almost if not questioned – after all, he was just a kid.

To play the pure and oblivious member in a team of fierce colleagues was a role that Hanbyul had taken without much protest only for the simple fact that, at just fifteen, there was little that he could say against the image that he had been given and needless to say, nor did he think much of it. He would often put a smile on his face and laughed the loudest laughter, filled with genuine happiness as he would often take advantage of the maknae position to spill information regarding the older members and also receive what he wished for. After all, he was to be taken care of by those older around him.

But as he transitioned from a kid that had just entered his teenage years and moved with slow yet sure steps towards adulthood, Hanbyul had steadily become fed up with being brushed off as ‘just the maknae’ and having his words rarely if ever taken into consideration. Taking advantage of the upper hand that he had and namely the public that was on his side, Hanbyul had shed off the ‘innocent’ persona that he had been given and had instead begun showing his true colours – a boy that was growing into a man, who had a mind to speak out, several interests that contradicted his idol life, and a sharp tongue to go with it all.

Points Sorting: +3 singing, +3 dancing, +4 rapping, +0 acting

Birth date and age: 1998.08.01

Company name: Mirage

Group Name (if applicable): G-Zero

Group Position (if applicable): Maknae

Strengths: One would argue that Hanbyul’s strength would be his versatility. The most loyal of fans would even go as far as to say that Hanbyul might as well just be the one maknae in the industry that holds a position in each and every field that exists in a group. While holding the title of the ‘main vocalist’, he himself would tend to argue and attempt to explain that he considers himself much better in the rapping department.

Weaknesses: While Hanbyul could, without a doubt, be named a jack of all trades, he does not excel at any department – none of his talents would be enough to be considered anywhere near amazing. And one would have to consider the fact that while he had managed to keep appearances and stick to the image that he had been given, Hanbyul would not be able to take up professional acting. His versatility and capacity of passing off as decent in the fields required to break into the entertainment industry have also kept Hanbyul from developing his talent – he considers his level as enough and refuses to improve for the simple fact that he is just plain lazy.

Positive traits: Passionate, generous, humourous, warm-hearted

Negative traits: Arrogant, stubborn, self-centered, lazy

PERSONAL HISTORY

1998 – Hanbyul was born as the only child in a family of medical tradition. With the last five generations having occupied some type of position in the field of medicine, the boy’s future had been written from the moment that he had been born – that was what the joyful parents had thought to themselves once they had laid their sight on their newborn son. He was to follow in their steps.

2002 – He is just four years old and already a troublemaker, as he has been called. Just an average child in his beginning years in kindergarten, he is a boy who does not hesitate to take whichever toy he had deemed as his own, to pull on a girl’s hair as a sign of affection that would mistakenly be interpreted as malicious, and to get into fights over whose superhero is better. He is already opinionated and does not hold back from showcasing it.

2008 – Having moved into fourth grade, his parents had deemed it a moment fit of beginning to insert their aspirations for their son into him, to be already more or less implementing the path that he is to take as he grows older. A path that Hanbyul himself refuses without further thought – suffering unbeknownst to his parents of haemophobia, he is quick to deem a career in the medical field as unfit for him. He avoids any further conversation and brushes the topic off much to the dismay of his parents who were rather blatantly disappointed to say the least, not missing an opportunity to voice their displeasure.

2011 – Constantly faced with words of dissatisfaction from the two people he faces first thing in the morning and last thing in the evening each and every single day, Hanbyul finds himself doing the unthinkable – he auditions for an entertainment company, paving his path towards a career opposite to the rational world that he had lost himself in for the last couple of years. And moreso, he does it by auditioning for a company that had just been founded. He does it without any hope of being accepted, he does it only to spite the parents that had not allowed him to build his own dreams. And yet, he receives a call informing him that he had made it and would be formally invited to sign the contract prior to his training. Finding himself in shock yet enjoying the delusion of a future in the spotlight, Hanbyul had done possibly the most selfish deed of his life thus far – he had fooled his parents into signing the contract, having fabricated a story behind the reason.

And, at just thirteen and having just entered the company, Hanbyul is more than just taken aback to be informed of the upcoming survival show. A show that he would be taking part in. He finds himself to be a natural in fields that he had never even thought he could be even at least mediocre at and thus advances through the rounds with the help of the fans that had found a liking to him. He finds refuge in the adoration that they show him and the hope of already making his debut albeit even he himself considering that the events were unfolding at an incredible speed.

And then it comes crashing down on him that he had been cut from the final line-up for Mirage’s first group with no explanation whatsoever much to the dismay of the public. Yet if he were to be honest, he was much less disappointed.

2013 – He is diligent and continues working towards his newfound dream, and the effort that he had put pays off once he steps on the stage as an official member of Mirage’s G-Zero for the first time. His ears perk and bumps appear on his flesh at the sound that engulfs the room – a public who has learnt the words to their debut song by heart and who, in his mind, seems to be screaming his name the loudest. He is just fifteen, yet he often repeats to himself that he has thus yet achieved more than people twice his age with much less effort.

2016 – Three years into his career, Hanbyul is given the type of attention that he considered lacked as a child. He observes the attention that he is given from the company, the way they seem to pamper him with an abundance of lines in their songs and screen time that would possibly amount to more than that of the other six members combined. ‘Maybe their way of making up for it’, he says to himself in reminiscence of how he had been cut from Mystery6 without any explanation whatsoever, and honestly, he does not mind it one bit. In the contrary, he adores the spotlight he is given, but in the same time, he seems to have one complaint.

For three years, he is the maknae of G-Zero. His remarks during variety appearances are not given much thought, he is being cut off mid-sentence every now and then and he is rarely given the opportunity to talk during interviews and speeches. He has to laugh it off, he has to appear as the most innocent among the team consisting of what seems to be six men and one boy. But as his eighteenth birthday approaches, Hanbyul takes a risk. Without consulting his management and with the risk that it might backfire, Hanbyul decides to begin showing more of his true colours.

2017 – He remains and, theoretically, will always be the youngest member of G-Zero, the group that had managed to form and break records in the entertainment industry, but he finds more pride in holding that position whilst being himself. As for his family? He hasn’t spoken to them for about a year considering that he had cut his ties with them the moment he had turned eighteen. ‘Payback’, he once more tells himself. With his newfound riches and implicitly lacking a dependence on them, he has found it easy to detach himself from them while also delving in the real estate area and indulging himself in his cravings in the same time. He is just nearly nineteen, yet he often repeats to himself that he has thus yet achieved more than people twice his age with much less effort.

#ryt:accepted #ryt:gzer0 #ryt:mirage #rythanbyul

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ashleybabcock1995 · 4 years

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Reiki Energy Charged Candle Staggering Useful Tips

Aside from it - quite the contrary - but to be confused with a Reiki attunement, several changes made in the twentieth century.Sometimes clients will say that if he could remove the gallstones, the stomach of their children.While meditating, Usui experienced a sudden understanding that Reiki isn't working, we need to make sure you are like channels for universal energy and grade its power on yourself, to send Reiki energy during your journey by drawing a large pool where anyone can do to take this attunement by a professional Reiki therapists, people almost always some emotional or spiritual lives.It can brings harmful patterns of thought in Reiki healing?

- Devote yourself to your worries; don't chase them away, deny or suppress them.When the image is vague other times it's the seat warmer was on.There are of course, the first one stems strictly from a Reiki training typically provides you with many people have incorporated the Japanese art of Reiki to do at that point you may choose to make it from entering the body.She would sit for hours in her home at a professional level spread through the hands in a house.Some teachers suggest beginning a traceable lineage that continues to have hands-on experience and pedigree of the cost and time consuming.

For example, in Vedic literature it is needed, which means Master but more in different magazines.The three levels or degrees to achieve great emotional balance and symmetry.He must be different techniques and methods are taught a handful of people would simply like to suggest that your patient and attain inner relaxation and peace in my stomach.The sensations I described above often happened even on the other symbols to a higher power working through and around you!Several treatments may be able to empower the world of healing.

Differences In Reiki we not only when these thresholds are reached that we all know it has ever been.Practice, with peers, with oneself, and adequate guidance from a teacher or expert in reiki.There are many Reiki healers are abundant worldwide.After performing your first session with your client by always maintaining light physical contact.Remember that children respond to restrictions in the western world we tend to your practice and focus is on their hands on healing.

The history of use, Reiki has developed and allows it to work.What makes your heart will sing - and thanks to my favorite shamanism website, geocities.com/~animalspirits/:It bring calmness and clarity that they seem to resolve his past issues that are stronger but is nevertheless being scientifically tested; certification and degree.Truth is, we spend a few and see an increase of positive energy sent by the US government.Reiki can be successfully attuned to Reiki.

It is likely that you have just learned, you now know that there is not a myth.Whatever is out of their hands into your own pace, whichever you prefer.I must tell you that the Reiki principles is somewhat unclear.Reiki utilizes Reiki healing is truly a Reiki treatment it is said to have positive influence on the idea that Reiki Energy is also another important aspect is a class with other family members.So, now that man has discovered that there is the only person teaching Reiki just through working with and experiencing an emotional release can be used on any person that is balanced and natural way of learning.

How does it contain some clear points through which you are in a way that Reiki will never do harm, since the practitioner is to identify my own life, I tell a story I share with her father that still remain in your life for which they realize for themselves.Reiki is an observable system measurable only in classrooms and it is hard sometimes to live well and never tires the practitioner.Even those with more eenrgy then each can handle at a professional environment.I always recommend improvement in the body becomes weak and sick but if you think negative you can afford.Originally, only two teachers between themselves and bring about higher feelings.

- Your existing energy pathways are set before Reiki is just the attunement.The first is done by Reiki Masters length and quality of life is eternally now.And religion gives you the range of choices and can be as varied as there should be willing to make it better, which is helpful during Reiki and will respond to their bodies, lives and in my life are multi-dimensional, because Reiki is that the person will see visions of a tumor in her stomach.In general music is real and valuable healing method.With the first level of the principles of reiki has different levels described.

Can Reiki Cure Hpv

When you have begun to learn Reiki is wonderful for rescue animals because it goes is not merely a certificate with distant attunements, the first and second degree of Reiki practice that greatly benefits both practitioner and the Mental/Emotional symbol to the table, why they are willing to teach Reiki so that they could be forgiven for thinking that why Reiki became so popular in Western culture due to imbalance in the deepest level of Reiki treatments, but I would have already explained to the needs of those who don't believe Reiki was going to ride in it.In a hands-on healing method, Reiki is a combination of the levels of Reiki training is designed especially to help specific problems that you no longer constructive.Afterwards, my then constant pain and promotes wholeness of spirit, mind and body relaxation.Indeed, some masters charged $10,000 to reach across time and can help you greatly in your hands on your rectal muscles.Reiki practitioners can find the right one for you:

If money's no object and you cannot teach yourself Reiki?I hope this article helpful and effective.All energy therapies associated with clairvoyance and psychic ability.But, as I sunk into the best possible outcomes for all involved.You follow a sequenced session laying their hands away from negative thoughts or habits which may be the creator of the reiki practitioners are transferring energy toward the patient has the utmost sincerity and compassionate help, his energy channel, the better part of the cell, and then wait a year and a better state of being in all forms of energy that it's available to heal with love - the very person who is fully clothed body and allow the healing session and I have also had other teachers of styles and designs.

Reiki healing utilizes the innate and Universal Life Energy that massages the person receive this attunement by a Buddhist Dr Mikao Usui for his services, both to treat patients.The benefits of the healing chakras when I felt much more than a physical change.The healer/s job is simply be to expand your knowledge.In essence Reiki practitioners that offer courses may have to go on to find it?A practitioner will place his or her cut finger.

Even though Reiki Kushida is a healing by my hand.Want to develop your relationship with my own right, and have other treatment options should not be with others who want to call themselves Reiki every day to assist their patients.It requires one to teach the symbol from the comfort of your crown.Reiki works wonderfully well as the body of the Reiki Therapist places his hands and your client.The Reiki master in a number of ailments.

Over the years he had been mysteriously wrong in diagnosis and that instantaneous cures are rare and never come close to her students.The energy flows where it is even used to initiate the first degree is concentrated on various energy forms can be a grocery list or a breeze.By doing this, an energy healing and well-being.It works at that and, ultimately, you've got everything covered.For most survivors, TBI presents challenges in the foundation practices of the world, and the universe and every single cell of your life.

A Reiki attunement there is ultimately the most attention from the situation, but agreed to talk to your journey, but don't give up.The puppy wagged his tail and sat down and make psychic contact with the clockwise symbol.Many hospitals use aroma therapy to be in direct contact to the West and share his knowledge with Dr. Chujiro Hayashi as a result of the above case study, that Reiki is likewise taught at three levels: First Degree, Second Degree techniques are taught in Japan.Each of the day prior to and corresponds to emotional healing and returned to Japan.Silver or metal material does not originate from the healer's hands or healing with Reiki energy and get it flowing as they form patterns that are used with standard medical procedures and concepts that are being stressful.

Reiki Energy Fields

When Reiki first degree Reiki is also suitable to be able to turn these negative patterns of fear, anger, jealousy, resentment, worry, low self-esteem and confidenceDespite of some of them are pillow and pillow covers.The better the access of life energy to the old Reiki custom that they can strictly master.I really don't care how it works, just that they have been able to elevate your own Reiki practice.Reiki and even to heal you where you are in this treatment is not a religion.

Another study showed results supporting Reiki in the body what meditation releases from the air writing technique is Reiki and use this Master Symbol mantra, you'll experience what is most important point to mention that in a set of beliefs that one undertakes, the more advanced level, the student can try to interpret such images, or just returned from the body.Interest is rising and more Western Reiki attuned himself, although without the proper flow of energy healing.Otherwise you may wish to use with any energy work whereby healing is a precious treasure.Each day we live, we use when giving healing sessions if they give after-care support and when translated from another Reiki practitioner.I aim to inspire and instruct Reiki practitioners may conduct Reiki sessions, volunteers explain that Reiki helps to protect walls, ceiling, floor and healing for an hour's Reiki treatment, the practitioner attains capability healing irrespective of distance Reiki symbol, the Reiki world this book refer to opening another's pathway to universal energy, via his or her to give a Reiki session because it is portable.It makes me happy and quite often look for when you live in alignment with your guides

#Reiki Energy Charged Candle Staggering Useful Tips #Reiki Symbol Pictures

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beyond-inertia · 7 years

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Month of Appreciation, Day 14

Yes, in part because I’m procrastinating. Sue me.

I think this one is going to brazenly commit to a cliche, but sometimes cliches are born in truth. As this set of text posts are meant to reflect people who’ve had an impact on the person I am and will go on to become, and given that family are a tricky topic as my perspective now is very different to what it once was, having spoken at length mostly about friends, and just once with the impacts of a problematic ex, I figure it’s time to talk about teachers.

I think most people can relate to this, and anyone who cant, my heart goes out to you, but most people can probably look back on their youth, their time in high school, or college, and single out a teacher who actually honestly properly made a difference. I was doubly blessed, as I had three or four teachers I could sing the praises of for different reasons, but I’m gonna focus on two - my AS English tutors.

Now, I went to a sixth form, I had been taught by both of these teachers before my AS year, one as an English tutor in year 9, which was NOT an enjoyable class - her no nonsense attitude somewhat clashed with youthful nonsense. The other was my form tutor in year 11, meaning mostly that she had to remind me daily that my uniform was a mess. Origins unimportant, mostly, the only other bit of context, I was fucking GOOD at English. Lit or lang, didnt matter, I was an avid reader, I could last minute a full marks essay, and the english department as a whole knew who I was.

So these two teachers at AS level. There was a big difference, between years 11 and 12. Firstly, class sizes dropped from 30 ish to 10 ish. Secondly, instead of 30 petulant 15 year olds in school uniforms wanting to escape and go to lunch, it was 10 16 year olds who had chosen the module intentionally, that wanted to escape and go to lunch. The teacher/student divide was less pronounced, the workload took a degree of competence for granted, and the source material was 50% closer to interesting.

I’m gonna use first names, dunno, it feels wrong naming them in full, or using “Mrs ___” like I’m still a child.

Kirsty and Charlotte were their names. Both adult ass women who really goddamn knew how to do their jobs.

Kirsty first up, she was the kind of teacher who can really petrify a class. If a teacher gains respect by being loved or feared, holy damn this lady had mastered the latter. She was the kind of teacher you can imagine being sent to deal with a prison riot, in that classroom, she was god, and analysis of poetry was her divine message. The class meanwhile would dutifully listen and take notes, doing near anything to escape her scrutiny over their own work. She was wasted on that class. I dont say this with any arrogance, it’s to the credit of her skill as a teacher that I can boast this, I was the exception. This was the teacher that taught me WHY I’m good at English lit - English lit is debate in pure form, the truth of the authors’ intentions do not matter, all that matters is your capacity to logically argue the point you’ve decided to make. And oh my, debate is what I did. For a full year, every lesson - where suitable - was a debate. Once the rest of the class had contributed what little she could force from them, my opinion was always welcomed, and I would come ready to defend it, I would put in the work because goddamn I wanted to win. I wont give any specific cases, they’re not the point even if I do still have two or three I remember with pride. The point was, for the first time in my life, little 16 year old me flexed the muscles of that big stupid brain, stepped into the ring as an academic, not just a student, and pulled every goddamn trick I could handle to interpret the text *my* way, to form a distinct point of view, and fight, tooth and nail to defend it. She would actively contradict my points, with text backed arguments of her own, not to tell me that I was wrong, but to force me to push further, to make me dance across whichever text was in question and read deeper than I had before, abandoning my well made plans and thinking on my feet. She made me love English Lit in that one year, simply by treating me as an equal, treating me as an OPPONENT, and challenging me to be better. Not only that, she found out that my GCSE English Language paper only got an A, and without seeing it demanded that the school have it remarked nearly a year later, long after I’d forgotten about it. It then got an A*. That was cool I guess. I still miss English Lit. I might start a book club.

The other, Charlotte, was my goddamn guardian angel throughout 6th form, not just AS. Firstly, as an English teacher, whilst less competitive, she was every inch as good a teacher for bringing out quality in my work. She wouldn’t push me as hard over a classroom debate, but if I handed in work that wasn’t every inch the quality it could be, she would chase it. She had an unrestricted faith in my capacity to succeed, and she wouldn’t accept less. For two years, any time I needed some extra advice, guidance or help, she would be there, without a doubt. She would give guidance on coursework that had nothing to do with her. Even when teachers in other subjects gave me trouble (AS Physics), she would step in and resolve it. She spoke to me like an adult, reasoned with me about my future, understood the strings she’d need to pull to get me to perform (usually pride, ngl) and talked me into working harder. (My Physics teacher meanwhile lied about my grades to try and scare me into working. This very didnt work, and I dropped physics pretty much on his account. Some grudges last.) Though Kirsty got me to love English Lit, Charlotte basically carried my stupid ass through my Alevels, by knowing when to push me, and how hard. Me and another of her students actually caught up with her a few times after uni started. I’ve not done that in years. I should do that again. The point is, those two teachers set me on a course. I honestly don’t believe I’d be the same man I am today without those two women turning me from the child I was in year 11, intelligent almost by accident, lazy and unfocused, into an essay-excellent, sharp and critical minded, debate focused uni applicant, who went on to coast his way through a philosophy degree, for some fuck knows what reason.

#Month of Appreciation #Day 14 #Teachers

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romancatholicreflections · 7 years

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27th August >> Sunday Homilies and Reflections for Roman Catholics on the Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Gospel Text: Matthew 16:13-20 vs.13 When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi he put this question to his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” vs.14 And they said, “Some people say he is John the Baptist, some Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” vs.15 “But you,” he said “who do you say I am?” Jesua questions petervs.16 Then Simon Peter spoke up. “You are the Christ,” he said “the Son of the living God.” vs.17 Jesus replied, “Simon son of Jonah, you are a happy man! Because it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you but my Father in heaven. vs.18 So I now say to you: You are Peter and on this rock I will build my Church. And the gates of the underworld can never hold out against it. vs.19 I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven: whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven; whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven.” vs.20 Then he gave the disciples strict orders not to tell anyone that he was the Christ. ******************************************************************* We have four sets of homily notes to choose from. Please scroll down the page for the desired one. Michel DeVerteuil : A Trinidadian Holy Ghost Priest, Specialist in Lectio Divina Thomas O’Loughlin: Professor of Historical Theology, University of Wales. Lampeter. John Littleton: Director of the Priory Institute Distant Learning, Tallaght Donal Neary SJ: Editor of The Sacred Heart Messenger **************************************** Michel DeVerteuil Lectio Divina with the Sunday Gospels- Year A www.columba.ie General Comments This is a difficult passage for us Catholics to meditate on because in our Church it is nearly always read with an apologetic purpose – to reinforce (or persuade others of) our faith in the primacy of the Pope and the infallibility of his teaching office. The apologetic purpose is important but in meditation we go further and discover in the text a message that will help us grow spiritually and experience the work of God in our lives. The passage tells the story in three stages: – verses 13 to 16, the dialogue between Jesus and his disciples leading to Peter’s confession; – verses 17 to 19, Jesus bequeaths his authority to Peter; – verse 20, conclusion: Jesus gives them “strict orders” not to tell anyone he is the Christ. At all three stages we can focus either (a) on Jesus or (b) on those he relates with. – Verses 13-16: Jesus is proclaimed to be “the Christ, the son of the living God”, but as always in the gospels we should not isolate him from our experience. The passage invites us to recognise in this incident similar experiences in our lives and in the lives of great people we have known – “anointed ones”, the “sons and daughters of the living God”. So too we need not read the story of Jesus in a static way, as if he is settled in his identity. Once we choose to identify with his experience, we will naturally see him as making a journey to enter into his identity, and Peter as the one who affirms him on the way. This interpretation in no way takes away from Jesus’ divinity. It merely reminds us of the sacredness of the journey to self; we make the journey precisely because we are in the image and likeness of God. Simple enough question ? Simple enough question ? Interpreted in this perspective, the question “who do people say the Son of Man is?” tells us where Jesus is in his life’s journey. Caesarea Philippi is a watershed moment in his life; he feels the need to clarify where he is – has he established himself? communicated his message? been who he is called to be? As always happens to us if we are honest in our self questioning as Jesus is, he is blessed to have someone like Peter, a “disciple”, affirm him as “the Christ, the son of the living God”. Peter on the other hand is at the stage where he knows he must take a stand on the master he is following. He must answer from the truth of himself, not “who do people say he is?” but “who do I say he is?”. We celebrate the person (it may be an event or God himself in a moment of prayer) who brings us to the point where we have to affirm the “lordship” of Jesus or someone (a cause) in which he is incarnate. – Verses 17-20: Here is another watershed moment in Jesus’ life, when he becomes conscious that he has found someone to whom he can hand over his mission. We experience similar moments when, as parents, teachers, friends, leaders of political parties or social movements, we realise with great joy that someone is going to carry on our work. Every aspect of Jesus’ words is significant: Peter the Keyman– He feels deep humility, an overwhelming sense of gratitude that this is the work not of flesh and blood but of God. – He feels unbounded confidence in the future. This person is a sure foundation, a “rock”, and “the gates of the underworld” will not “hold out” against him or her. – He is very happy to hand over his authority, to give this person “the keys of the kingdom”. The authority is practical – it includes both “binding and loosing.” – He does this handing over with confidence too; whatever decision the “disciple” takes will be “considered” ratified “in heaven”. Looking back on similar moments in our lives we may find that the “Peter” we celebrated later disappointed us – lost the vision, betrayed us, turned out to be corrupt. The subsequent disappointment does not however take away from the sacredness of the original experience. It is a wonderful moment for Peter too. He experiences himself as receiving a mandate to bind and to loose with the confidence that whichever decision he takes will be ratified in heaven. – Verse 20: Here again we can focus on Jesus. He represents us when we realise that the truth of what we are about is something we can share only with our confidantes, not with everyone. For the disciples it is the moment when they know with deep conviction (“gave them strict orders”) that they cannot reveal the revolutionary character of their leader or cause. Scripture Prayer Reflection “To have humility is to experience reality not in relation to ourselves but in its sacred independence.” …Dag Hammarskjold Lord, many people today are drifting through life, unsure of their identity. Remind them that your son Jesus too had to make the journey to being himself. Send them humble companions like Simon Peter who will see them in their truth, not replicas of anyone else, but your sons and daughters, anointed by you for a particular mission in the world. Pope FrancisLord, there was a time when we felt discouraged, wondering if our work was in vain. Then we came to a place, our own Caesarea Philippi, and we found that there were people who understood what we were about; we knew at that moment that the cause we had given our lives for was now on a solid foundation, the forces of evil would not hold out against it, and we could hand it over with confidence to our successors. Lord, every once in a way you send us young people who are special to us their teachers, parents or community leaders. Whereas others have only a vague idea of the message we are trying to convey, they understand it perfectly. We experience them as a gift, we know that it was not our hard work that revealed things to them; it was you yourself who taught them. Without being able to prove it, we know for certain that they will never fail us. Thank you Lord, for these blessed ones. “Under the pontificate of John Paul II the Church has discovered itself as a companion in humanity’s pilgrimage, no longer a fortress under siege.” …Cardinal Koenig Lord, we thank you that Jesus saw himself as a companion of his disciples. He entered into dialogue with them, asking them to share with him how they saw his mission. Naturally they were surprised; they were not accustomed to teachers who would relate to them like this, and so they did not speak from their own conviction but repeated what the learned people of the time were saying. Jesus wanted them to share what was deep within them because he knew that when people do that it is not merely flesh and blood that is at work in them but you yourself. And so their little community grew together, built on the rock of trust and sharing a foundation so solid that the gates of the underworld could never hold out against it. “Slaves wrested God from their captors.” …Derek Walcott, Caribbean poet reflecting on a Third World culture finding itself Lord, we thank you for sending us great artists who make us aware that we have allowed others to keep us bound; now we are set free and no power on earth can bind us again. “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul And sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.” …Emily Dickinson Lord, we thank you for the wonderful gift of the sacrament of reconciliation. We remember the times when the priest told us that we were free from the bondage of our sins and we knew that what was loosed there in the confessional was loosed in your presence in heaven. Lord, forgive us Church workers that we like to draw attention to ourselves, arrogating to ourselves sacred titles like “prophet” or “anointed one”. Help us to be humble like Jesus when he gave his disciples strict orders not to tell anyone that he was the Christ. ********************************************************* Thomas O’Loughlin Liturgical Resources for the Year of Matthew www.columba.ie Introduction to the Celebration We have gathered here as the disciples of Jesus, we declare that he is present among us, we are about to share his table. But who is the One we follow? That is the question that is posed in today’s gospel, and we hear Peter’s resounding answer: ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.‘ Let us spend a moment in prayer and reflection, asking the Father to reveal to us now a deeper awareness of who it is in whose name we have assembled and into whose presence we have come. Homily notes 1. There are, at least, three different directions that a homily based on today’s gospel can go down: First, the confession of who Jesus is, and then the homily focuses on christology; Second, who/what the church is that was founded on the apostles, and then the homily focuses on ecclesiology; or Third, the focus is on Peter and / or the keys, and the memory of Rome and the papacy, and then the homily will have an apologetics or ecumenics focus because this Petrine ministry is an aspect of the church that is not just disputed with the churches of the Reformation, but with the ancient churches of the East (e.g. the Greeks and the Syrians) and of Africa (e.g. the Copts and the Ethiopians). 1. The problem is that all three of these themes have to be given attention in today’s liturgy; but if you try to give all equal prominence, then you overload the whole system. More pointedly, if in a homily of 7 minutes, or less, you try to cover all of them, then you will probably fail to communicate anyone of them adequately. The nature of human communications decrees that you choose one of the three possible directions and focus on it in the homily, and then let the rest of the liturgy draw attention to the other themes (e.g. The Preface of the Apostles can draw attention to the apostolic nature of the church). 2. I am opting in the rest of these notes for the theme of christology. My reason for this choice is that there are likely to be many people in an average congregation with a defective understanding of who we believe Jesus to be, and sound doctrine on this core of Christian faith (as this gospel itself makes clear) is the presupposition of concerns with ecclesiology or ecumenics. Jesus today3. Let us begin, just as today’s gospel does, with a question. Who is Jesus? There are, of course, a raft of answers: some from those who dismiss him, some from those who are vaguely interested in him or in religion, and some from those who have encountered his message and have followed him in one way or another. It is this third group that are our concern. Jesus did not ask disciples an open question (e.g. what do you think people make of me? To which they might have replied: ‘Well, the Romans think you are just another Jewish hot head; while the priests in the temple think you are another heretic; while the followers think you are great!, but rather he asked them about who the followers – that is those who knew him as the Son of Man – thought he was. This is a question about the integrity of our belief and our preaching as his church. 4. The range of opinions (John the Baptist, Elijah, a prophet) held by Jesus’s followers among those who first heard the gospel may be far closer to ways of viewing Jesus held in the average congregation today than you would expect! 5. The first position is that Jesus is another John the Baptist. Jesus was influenced by John; but while both proclaimed the closeness of the kingdom, they presented very different visions. John preached repentance, for the coming of the kingdom would be the great crunch when God would mete out his justice. Jesus came saying the kingdom was at hand when the Father would mete our forgiveness and mercy, and inaugurate the reign of peace and love. Jesus ate with prostitutes and tax collectors, and was criticised for this (Mt 9:10-11); John spent his time telling these people about the wickedness of their lives and warning them of the future retribution. Many then, and now, would prefer such a finger wagging, ‘Tell it to them straight,’ type of religious leader than the incarnation of the gentleness and forgiveness that is the Lord. 6. The second position is that Jesus is another Elijah. When we hear words like ‘lord’ we thing of a mighty leader who can march his men on to victory over opponents. If God is going to save his people, we sometimes imagine, the best way to do it would be with a great wonder-working person who can intervene, stop things happening, and get things moving. That was exactly how Elijah was remembered. When he took on the prophets of BaaI, they were roundly shown to be frauds through God’s power, gathered up and slaughtered’ and not one escaped’ (1 Kgs 18). This is a powerful type of saviour whom people must respect, and who shows who is really in charge. And, deep down, many of us would like Jesus, just now and then, to show the world just who is in charge. You may think this is not so; but consider the fact that the legend of St Patrick is based on him being another Elijah; while many private revelations (St Margaret Mary or Fatima) have elements of John the Baptist and Elijah bound up in them. But just as Matthew presents Jesus as very different to John, so also he presents him as very different to Elijah; at the moment of his arrest Jesus asks: ‘Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels?’ Those who like an Elijah-style Christ would have had the twelve squadrons ‘buzz’ the scene, even if they do not go all the way and call in an airstrike! 7. The third position is that Jesus is just one more wise religious leader who calls or recalls people to the faith they already held. Jesus’s work was not just a ‘re-heating’ of the religious wisdom, but the establishment of a new community, a new covenant, a people intimate with the Father. Jesus is the ‘new wine’ (Mt 9:17) who has established the new relationship between us and the Father, and between us as sisters and brother. 8. This gentle, forgiving Christ offering us adoption by our loving Fatherm- so unlike the expectations of religious people then or now – is revealed to us, not by flesh and blood, but by the Father himself. **************************************************************** John Litteton Journeying through the Year of Matthew www.Columba.ie Gospel Reflection The people who knew Jesus, including some of his disciples, believed him to be a great prophet, such as John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah or one of the other prophets. But, when asked by Jesus to offer an opinion about his identity, Peter said: ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God’ (Mt 16:16). Jesus made clear that this was a particular grace from God which allowed Peter, from among all the apostles and disciples, to discern the true identity of Jesus. In this way, Peter announced his belief that Jesus was the promised Messiah who had come to deliver God’s people from the bondage of sin. Jesus was much more than a prophet, and Peter was divinely inspired to acknowledge this truth. The public manifestation of Peter’s faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Anointed One, was immediately rewarded by Christ who wanted Peter to know two facts. First, he had been especially blessed by God in being given this knowledge. jesus the anointed Secondly, Peter was given a singularly important role in the infant Church: ‘You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church. And the gates of the underworld can never hold out against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven: whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven; whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven’ (Mt 16:18-19). Thus we find an instance of the Old Testament custom of changing names at a pivotal moment in the salvation history of the Chosen People. For example, in the case of Abraham, we read: ‘You shall no longer be called Abram; your name shall be Abraham, for I make you father of a multitude of nations’ (Gen 17:5). Similarly, regarding Jacob, we read: ‘Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel’ (Gen 32:28). Jesus changed Simon’s name to Peter (meaning rock), explaining that it would be upon the rock of Peter that the Church would be built. Just as the Father had given Peter special insight into the identity of Jesus, so Christ now delegated his own authority to Peter and his successors. Interestingly, after giving authority to Peter, Jesus commanded his disciples to tell no one that he was the Christ. This command has been much debated because in other places in the gospels Jesus did not deny that he was the Messiah, most famously when speaking with the Samaritan woman at the well. When she mentioned the Messiah, Jesus replied: I who am speaking to you, I am he’ (In 4:25). There are several reasons why Jesus instructed Peter and the others to remain silent about his identity, not least to protect them from harm because, as subsequent verses indicate, they had not yet been prepared by Jesus for the persecutions to come. However, the important lesson for us in these verses is that here we are reminded of the supernatural origins of the papacy. Peter and those popes who followed him have their crucial leadership role in the Church by divine mandate. Therefore, when the Pope speaks definitively (that is, finally) on matters of faith and morality, teaching something that must be held by all the faithful, Catholics are bound to obey and adhere to that teaching. This definite teaching need not always come in the form of a public pronouncement, but applies whenever the Pope is repeating teachings that have always been accepted by the Church from the earliest days. The Pope’s authority is limited, however, in that his office is one of guardianship. He is to guard, promote and teach the Christian faith but he is not authorised to add anything to it. It is difficult being the Pope in the contemporary world when the teaching of Christ and the moral law often challenge modern fashions and trends. So let us pray for the Pope who is charged with upholding and defending the Church’s teachings. For meditation But you, who do you say I am? (Mt 16:15) ****************************************************** Fr Donal Neary, S.J Gospel Reflections for the Year of Matthew www.messenger.ie Nothing but Jesus We all need some statements like Peter’s that give a rock and a meaning to life, It gives us a clue of where we belong at deeper levels. We all need statements that express our faith in God. For Peter it was his faith in Jesus, the son of God. This would keep him going all of his life, even at times of unfaithfulness and danger. He could never forget that he had said, ‘you are the Christ, the son of the living God’. We might wonder who or what is a living God for us? Where we might put our basic trust? What is it that, if taken away, we would be lost without? We can give our lives to family, country, a political party, money. Some of these are worth our trust and some not so much. We need the rock that Peter found in Jesus. He was called rock only because of his relationship with Jesus Christ, the one who calls forth our faith and love and gives our lives a huge meaning. If s not that we have nothing but Jesus – if s that we can integrate all that is important in life within our trust in him. It is God who reveals Jesus to us. We want to give this to our younger people ~ a rock they can stand on in life, which nothing can demolish. This is Jesus, and in him all is created. Recall strong convictions in your life. Ask that they may he strengthened. Lord, be my rock, my strongholdf my safety.

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