#karissa speaks

[mixing-bowl-of-stories]

Selcouthian World Building: Accents

Accents, similarly to our own, vary from place to place.

While Montezian (English) is the most common language, due to colonization and genocide, it’s not the only language to exist.

Morganian (Latin/Latin Based languages such as Spanish, Italian, Romanian, French, etc.) is another, more uncommon language.

Here are the general accents of The Crux:

Pandora: Hiraethian (Queen’s English)

Noah & Owen: Colonized Montezian (Unspecified American)

Constance & Ambrose: Colonized Montezian (Northern American)

Karissa, Lilith, & Josiah: Colonized Montezian (Midwest American)

Amy, Chance & Barbara: Borderlands Accent (Southern American)

Now what exactly is “Hiraethian”?

It’s the rarest accent in all of Selcouth.

It really only originates in some of the oldest families left from a long since destroyed and abandoned kingdom

It’s considered an accent of Maveth only, since he still speaks with his accent

Which of course makes ppl suspicious when mediums say that Maveth has the same accent as the De La Dáinn family

But there’s no actual proof of that and the family has done plenty to cover their ties to Maveth outside of being his most active and loyal worshippers

But overall, the De La Dáinn and two other families are the only three who have the accent

Mainly it’s known by the Hiraethian Accent because nobody actually knows the name of the kingdom the accent originated from, as there’s very few records from that time.

So Hiraeth is a fill in until they can find the name of the kingdom.

Hiraeth being the word for: a homesickness for a home that never was or that you can’t return to

[dandylion240]

A woman smirked as she laid aside the magazine she’d been perusing as three frantic men rushed past her towards the nurse’s station. It gave her a delicious thrill to watch the situation she instigated unfold before her. She felt eyes watching her, which only served to boost her pleasure. It was the young blond with the pouty lips whose eyes were pouring into her as if trying to remember where he’d seen her before. She got up and slowly approached the nurse, the heels of her shoes clicking loudly on the hard tile floors of the waiting room.

She asked for information on the condition of her nonexistent husband, letting her voice carry over to the trio. She wasn’t Miss Fish nor was she Karissa Drake, banished merprincess. She was plain old Myrtle Pie, fine red hair in a long braid behind her back. Frumpy too large overalls and baggy sweater. Unrecognizable.

She walked past the distraught parents as a couple of plains clothed officers approached them. Pain stabbed her temples from the pressure required to clench her jaw shut to keep from laughing out loud as she heard one of the officer’s begin to speak.

[spurgie-cousin]

I take your Rod/Collins cross over and raise the Satu Gonzalez/Karissa Collins cross over.

Satu Gonzalez is a Swedish/Finish family blogger who never really speaks about religion, just that she believes in something.

She is a mother of 11 children, which is the only thing she seems to have in common with Karissa.

I was shocked

I've never seen that one, but if she's a professional influencer I have to believe she knows better than to collab with other influencers without researching them. So to me what that says is, she endorses Karissa and her homophobic/sexist bs, and I'd be wary of her even if she isn't openly like that also.

[pionoplayer]

There was a knock on the door. Stephen looked up at me from across the table, tapping the cards in his hand. I looked up at him, then back down at the cards in my hand.

The knocking on the door continued, a little bit harder this time. Stephen coughed, then spoke up, "Are you going to answer it?"

Alanie glanced over at Stephen. "Ah, Karissa's waiting for-" The third round of knocking shook the apartment slightly and I sighed, placing my cards face-down on the coffee table and stood up.

"Coming!" I yelled, walking over towards the door, muttering under my breath. In the background I could hear the other game night members bringing Stephen up to speed.

"Alright, so, Stephen, this is your first night with us, right?" I walked into a side room, and fiddled with the camera system. It was supposed to be on for all apartments at all times but, well... there were reasons to keep mine off.

"Erm, yeah, I was invited by-" the others at the table shushed him. I could hear the hissing whisper from Alanie. I finished getting the cameras on, then stepped back out into the hall.

"Don't say it until they're gone." Right up to the door.

"Until who's gone?" I opened the door of the apartment, to reveal the hulking metal suit of Ironbreak standing outside in the hallway. All up and down the complex's hall the other tenants were trying (and mostly failing) to discretely peek out of their abodes at the now almost scheduled weekly arrival of one of the most notorious supervillains in the city.

"You don't need to bring the whole building down Iron." I huffed at him. I knew he wasn't going to actually bring the building down, there was a Code for any villains who didn't want to become 'forcibly retired' in town. But the way he announced his arrival was... thoroughly obnoxious to say the least.

"What is HE doing here!? Why! Why is there a supervillain standing outside Kary's front door!?"

Slug sighed and patted Stephen's shoulder. "He's convinced that Karissa's a superhero."

Ironbreak leaned down and peered in through the hall. His raspy machine-augmented voice echoed through the room, rattling the glass. "I KNOW th-." The red light at the top of his visor flickered, a fascimile of a blink. His fist hit his chest with a soft clunk, and he started speaking again, at much more polite volumes. "Sorry, was working in the foundry today. Slug, you come here every night and you can't tell me that-"

Slug, also known variously as "sluegotrolat" in hir subterranean non-euclidean home-city, and "Sluggoth" to the inhabitants of Houston who knew hi as a fairly well regarding-if extremely weird looking-regional hero, squelch-huffed and crossed their pseudopods. "Fine, since you're so insistent on getting into my personal business that you bring this up every week, I met her at a wetlands conservation project."

Jeremy whispered something under his breath to a chorus of giggles from most of the others. Given that Slug reached all the way across the table to slap him it was probably a joke about Slug's... biology- and me.

Slug turned back to me and Ironbreak. "The point is, just because I look different enough to not have a 'secret identity' does not mean I don't have my own civilian life outside hero work!"

Ironbreak stared at Slug, and 'blinked' again. "I am a paraplegic wired into a nine foot tall life support system, Slug. I am in fact aware that 'looking weird' does not fully preclude having other interests." An awkward silence descended onto the room again. Broken by me fake coughing this time.

"So. What's your tirade for the night? Let's get this over with so I can go back to playing cards with my friends". Ironbreak shifted uncomfortably in the hallway outside. The first of these visits had been... very alarming actually, having him just about jump me while I was jogging in the park to sling the accusation that I was the secret identity of Firespitter. Since then things had gotten... 'awkward'? It kind of felt like the whole hero identity accusations thing was kind of an excuse for something else he never got around to.

And so he sat in the hallway staring at me. He glanced up and down the apartment's hall, then let out a wheezing pneumatic hiss like a sigh. "Forget it. Even when I know you're going to treat me like I'm crazy still anyways." He turned around, and a piece of paper dropped to the floor, which I picked up as he turned to walk off back down the hall-to the stairwell, not the elevator.

Finally. It was funny when he'd gotten the elevator stuck in the shaft the first few times because he was right on the machinery's weight limit but after that it... well, the landlord getting upset at me until I'd gotten it through Ironbreak's head to just use the stairs instead had made it less funny.

The paper read 'check the window'. So of course I walked over past the others and closed the blinds. Every single other super and the one non-super in the room heaved a sigh of relief.

Stephen was the first to speak up. "So... he knows?" I sighed.

Jeremy cackled, "No that's the best part about it! He's been guessing every week for like a year and he STILL hasn't guessed which cape she is successfully!"

Alania snickered and flicked their wrist to magic a soda into their hands, "He spent an entire month convinced that Kary was actually Wintersmith."

Stephen just about howled with laughter, "Oh I'll bet your husband thought that was hilarious."

Alania grinned. "Once they remembered the whole 'gender difference' thing they added curves to their armor just to screw with him more. That was a fun week."

I sat down and picked up my own cards again. "The worst part about this whole thing is that it's mostly my own fault?"

Stephen raised an eyebrow from across the table, then placed their card on the pile at the center. "Oh? I feel like I gotta hear this story."

I sighed, finally picked out the card I thought was funniest, and slid it into the judging pile. "So, I'm doing delivery work, right? I didn't pick up with the registry so they refuse to pay me and I have to do my own work. Well, um. One times somebody prank called a pizza to Ironbreak's base."

Stephen's jaw dropped, "And you delivered it!?"

"He's a big softie! He's not one of mine! You know he refuses to hurt civilians! And also the only thought going through my mind at the time was that it would be really, really funny."

The room was quiet for a bit, then Stephen nodded. "Yeah, okay, fair on all four counts. Was it funny?"

I grinned and nodded, "Extremely. The entire secret base went into lockdown and didn't come out for days."

Jeremy chuckled. "You know it's probably for the best that the 'professional' hero community hasn't picked up the fully story on this. Can you imagine if they learned that Oracle of all people nearly outed her secret identity for a pr-" There was a gasp outside the window and then a thud down below.

"Oh god."

"That was Shadowleaper wasn't it."

"Fuck. I should've checked the window."

-

We were all down by the green in less than a minute. It should've been too late by then but... Instead, we found someone waiting for us. Several someone's waiting for us. Shadowleaper, grabbed by the collar by Ironbreak. Mirage, and Leapfrog.

Jeremy already had his emergency thunderblade ready, the rest of us didn't strictly need weapons but the villains technically had the advantage anyways. Any fighting would either be in front of civilians with most of us unable to suit up quick enough, and with Mirage's light powers there was no way we wouldn't be noticed.

Ironbreak spoke first, "I warned you to check the window."

Shadowleaper squeaked, "You ratted me out?! Not cool man!"

Ironbreak turned, creaking, towards the small-time villain in his hand. "You came within inches of breaking The Code. If word of this were to get out no one would ever work with you again. You should be glad I'm restraining myself to manhandling you."

I sagged. "So you know then."

Ironbreak wheezed, and shook his 'head'. "I've known for a month and a half. About you, at least. Most of the others are new to me. You may perhaps remember the 'surveillance state' incident in May?"

Everyone turned and looked at Monroe, the single non-super of our group. An ex-military security agent who'd hooked up with our group as part of a sort of unofficial witness protection program for spies who had to hide from their own governments after going clean. "Don't look at me! I wasn't part of that operation I have no idea how or even if disposal happened!"

Stephen muttered under his breath. "So... That confirms several different unpleasant hypotheticals in one go."

I looked Ironbreak up and down for a few seconds. I could see every electrical pulse in the frame, every action was in my head before his motors even started whirring. But he was also one of the only villains whose thoughts I couldn't see, and the other three here... Didn't actually know what he was going to ask. They'd just come here because they were doing a teamup and Ironbreak had asked for their company.

"What do you want from us Ironbreak?"

He wheezed, looked around at the group, and sunk downwards, taking a knee to lower himself to eye level with me. "If I reciprocate my identity... Would there perhaps be a few extra spaces at 'gamenight' for tonight?"

I blinked. The other three villains seemed to be as surprised as us, but also seemed to be in agreement on that idea. That was. Not what I was expecting the outcome to be. "I haven't got space for you in my apartment. And we can't use the others' places for. Various reasons."

Mirage raised her hand tentatively, "I could, perhaps be of assistance there? I mean. If you're all okay with it?"

Jeremy groaned and let out a silent scream at the sky. "Could you idiots not have just asked that this afternoon?! You know, when we did the whole thing downtown!?"

Iron huffed out a response, "I have about as much social skill as my casket does and these three are barely better at it than I am. I am honestly surprised I managed it under tonight's circumstances. May we relocate to a less civilian dense area before further complaints are given?"

There were mutters of agreement, mostly resentful, from the other heroes. I simply nodded my head, and winced at the thoughts of how this all was going to shake out.

---

Bonus bit because my brain constructed a plothook for a story that I really probably should not write out right now:

Something was bothering me though, as everyone else moved ahead I lightly brushed Ironbreak, signaling him to hang a little bit back from the rest of the group. We followed behind the others, gradually separating from them to just enough distance to communicate through our extrasensory capacities without being noticed.

I flashed a flicker of glowing molecules in the air for his side cameras, "You didn't come to join gamenight, did you?"

He responded with a flicker of electricity through his wires to spell out his reply over a brief moment, "...Not tonight specifically, no."

"...Do you actually want to be part of our gamenight, Iron?"

"Call me Luke, Karissa. And yes, I think that would be pleasant. It is much harder to find social groups on the other side of the line. For what I presume are obvious reasons."

"And tonight's reason?"

"I think we've brushed on it briefly. June's been rather quiet, hasn't it?"

"...we'll talk more there."

Years ago your work place accepted a prank delivery to an evil villains lair, ever since that day the villian hasn’t left you alone, convinced you were secretly a hero, no matter how many times you explain you were just a pizza delivery driver and it was a prank call.

[mcvoices]

Episode 1: Here I go, CVAP!

Hey, it's MC....Voices!

Uhmmm... this is new to me. I've written a lot of essays, poems, stories, even songs, a lot of narratives that I could think of. But this, this is the first time that I would actually write a blog. So yeah, hoping whoever reads this will stick up with me until the every end.

Great day! This is how I would start my day or like a week now, including what I would say in this blog. I'm MCVoices, you could call me by that name or could be MC. I'm an aspiring voice artist, currently exploring more of my interests here and there. This blog, would absolutely talk about those interests while I joined the Certified Voice Artist Program here in the Philippines - currently in Batch 26 this 2024.

Joining CVAP is a really great opportunity for me. I really think that this program is the best place to hone my skills and turn my passion into profession and to think that it could be really one of my hobbies as well because I am really into using my voice. I really wanted to know, to learn how to use my voice well. Whether it's for voicing characters, doing voice overs, dubbing, and a whole lot more. So, here's a look into my journey throughout the program and the incredible experiences, my thoughts, reactions on what we did during the sessions that came with it.

As I dive into Week 1 of the Certified Voice Artist Program, I find myself intrigued and full of excitement with how I gained knowledge, practical exercises, and invaluable insights from industry experts.

Understanding the Role of a Voice Artist

The first step was all about understanding the basics. We were introduced about what it means to be a voice artist. Sir Navi Garcia, provided us with his inspiring story on how he became a voice artist, how he started from scratch up until being a trainer as he is now. He shared his personal experiences and strategies for staying on his ground, improving skills, and maintaining a good mindset. One of the most inspiring message that I got throughout the session was with the Pochology "Someone out there need to here your voice."

Every voice has the potential to reach someone, could be to touch a hearts, to provide comfort, to inspire change. It's kind of heart warming and this phrase resonates deeply with me, especially as I embark my journey to become a voice artist. And in order to be successful in doing this, I need the confidence. The confidence to step up, to speak up, to voice it out. Confidence is built through practice, perseverance, and embracing feedback. I really think that the field of voice acting is ever-evolving, and continuous learning is essential.

After the morning session, I realized that I am always inspired by people, but then, I really should be inspired by myself the most. I should be. Since that session, I realized that my voice is not just a tool for personal expression but it has means to reach, connect, and impact others.

During the afternoon session, we did a practical activity wherein we have to introduce ourselves within my BR group. My group that includes - Ton, Gracy, Cath, Marco, Keysie, Seb, Karissa, and Flamm alongside with our Guardian Mentor Mr. A, Mentor Jon, Mentor Mark, and Sir Ron as our Watcher. We introduced one by one during the breakout session, and then we decided to create like a party list introduction during an election. I really enjoyed doing it, it was really fun to actually be with them and create memories with the rest of the group. We presented it first and ended up laughing with our jokes and how we perform, we actually did a great job. I was having fun, really.

In conclusion, Week 1 really left a big impression to me. I've gained a lot, learned lot, had fun with the rest of the group, voicemates, with the hosts and people in charge during the session. As I continue this journey, I am really excited to apply these lessons, grow my skills in this dynamic and creative field, take this opportunity to lead me for greater purposes. We all have something with us, a reason, a purpose, and a voice and that there is always someone out there who needs to hear it. So, I will embrace it and share them with the world- because you never know who might need it and how much they might need to see and hear exactly what I do.

For now, stay tuned for more blogs about my CVAP journey! More updates as I progress through the program and share more insights and experiences from my journey to becoming a Certified Voice Artist!

from me to you,

MC

[bowl-of-shortness]

Barbara and Pandora chilling together. Pandora mentions how she used to date this one guy who was a real asshole and Barbara goes:

“If you meet him again you wanna know what you should do?”

“What?”

“Shoot his ass with your damn rifle.”

“!!! I can’t!”

“Why not?!”

“Because I’m a noble, if I do that to another noble I’d get in a world of trouble…”

“Oh shit. Well, alright.”

“…I mean you can do it if you want so long as you don’t get caught…”

“You’d let me?”

“…yes. I would.”

“Consider it done then.”

Also for the record, I should probably mention accents for these two lol

Everyone in the De La Dáinn family including Pandora and Maveth have British accents.

While Chance and Barbara have southern U.S. accents.

Amelia speaks in a Transatlantic accent (half British half American sounding)

Nathaniel, Nico, Natasha, Josiah, and Lilith, Noah, Ambrose, and Constance all have your typical nondescript American accents, altho each one varies, for instance Noah sounds like he’s from the north.

Karissa has a British accent as well, although hers sounds more from Lancashire than Pandora’s (which sounds more like what you’d expect when you hear “British accent” aka received pronunciation as I think it’s called.)

[lakecountylibrary]

Book Rec: All the Dangerous Things by Stacy Willingham

Audiobook (10 hrs) narrated by Karissa Vacker

Isabelle Drake hasn't slept in 365 days. That's how long it's been since her son Mason vanished from his bed.

Isabelle is a realistic character who is conflicted about her past and the present, and her anguish really comes through in this novel. She is a desperate mother, willing to do just about anything to find out what happened to her child.

The novel does flash back to Isabelle's childhood, but the passages are not confusing. It's always very obvious if the character is remembering or in the present.

I was a little surprised at the ending. It challenges the reader to explore one's own morals. What would you do if your child went missing?

I liked this book. The writing is solid, and it the pace is just right. It's not high literature, but if you are a fan of domestic mystery/suspense then you may enjoy this novel, too!

The narrator is able to pull off a convincing male voice, but all the male characters sound the same to me. This did not take away from the story, because there are few instances of more than one male character speaking at the same time.

See more of Brenna's recs

Check out All the Dangerous Things

[atlanticcanada]

N.S. woman who murdered daughter granted more temporary passes from prison

A Nova Scotia woman who murdered her daughter in 2008 will be getting more temporary passes to leave prison.

The Parole Board of Canada has approved additional escorted temporary absences from prison for Penny Boudreau.

Boudreau is serving a life sentence with no parole eligibility for 20 years for killing her daughter Karissa Boudreau.

According to the decision, dated Jan. 18 2023, Boudreau has been granted four escorted visits to a close personal contact for a total of seven hours each, including travel time.

The parole board has also approved 12 escorted personal development contacts to attend church or related activities, for four hours’ duration, including travel time.

In making its decision, the board says it reviewed numerous victim impact statements and letters opposing any additional freedoms. When referring to the feedback the board received, the decision states, in part:

“Collectively, they speak to a deep sense of loss and grief, be it family members, friends and/or the community at large. That grief and opposition to your release continues to this day.”

The decision states that RCMP in the area where the family contact will take place has voiced opposition due in part to public reaction.

Karissa Boudreau’s body was found in February 2008 on the banks of the LaHave River in Bridgewater, N.S. The 12-year-old was reported missing about two weeks before her remains were discovered. Her mother held an emotional press conference with police while her daughter was still considered a missing person. Boudreau later admitted to strangling her daughter with a piece of twine and leaving her body by the river.

The decision states Boudreau will be closely supervised on the visits by a non-security Correctional Service of Canada staff member, contractor, or volunteer.

It further adds: “You are not considered an escape risk. To reoffend would likely take a number of highly unlikely variable to be in play, namely access to a child when in an unhealthy state of mind and relationship. None of that is currently happening and your institutional behaviours do not preclude your release. “

The board previously approved several escorted temporary absences in 2018, 2019 and 2021.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/o3CUzAl

[shdocws]

i just remembered, 7 fucking days till i see stray kids.

[tvnacity]

and I’m feeling extra valid abt being ace in this chili’s tonight

[mixing-bowl-of-stories]

What are the relationships like with between the Crux? What about the Crux with their families?

Alrighty, this’ll be long so bear with me, this took me a while because I had to write sm

Anyways these are from the perspective of everyone a few months after the group is established.

Pandora:

-> Noah, “I don’t mind the murder but I do mind your declining mental stability. I worry about you, a lot, I want you to be okay.”

-> Ambrose, “Big brother :)”

-> Constance, “Big sister :) (despite us being the same age)”

-> Nico, “I’m always here if you wanna learn the basics of necromancy, you are my buddy :)”

-> Nathaniel, “why are you so mean to me? :(“

-> Natasha, “Very overprotective, feels like home in a way…”

-> Lilith, “How do you have any sexual attraction to anyone and everyone like how does that work?”

-> Karissa, “I like your singing voice!”

-> Josiah, “you are in a similar situation that I am and I appreciate you not hating me bc of the misconceptions surrounding Maveth.”

-> Barbara, “Crux mum”

-> Owen, “Crux dad”

-> Chance, “I like your accent funny man >:)”

-> Amelia, “Fellow noble *nods in understanding*”

Noah:

-> Pandora, “Why do you care so much about me…? Worry about yourself some more will ya…?”

-> Ambrose, “Quiet, but I speak enough for the both of us. You’re a good listener”

-> Constance, “Stop nagging me.”

-> Nico, “Coward… but maybe that’s okay sometimes.”

-> Nathaniel, “*glares in mutual “I’m a huge dick to everyone but don’t want to admit it” energy*”

-> Natasha, “I don’t really know you.”

-> Lilith, “I see, so you’re trying to seduce everyone because you have issues. Understandable, I’ll leave you to it”

-> Josiah, “ugh, holy people…”

-> Karissa, “Banger tunes my fella”

-> Owen, “Idfc if he’s not my real dad he’s still my dad in my eyes.”

-> Barbara, “The cooler mom”

-> Chance, “I like your gun >:)”

-> Amelia, “…thanks for giving me the sleeping tonic”

Ambrose:

-> Pandora, “You need help. And badly.”

-> Noah, “I like our conversations, but there’s still a lot you won’t tell me.”

-> Constance, “Please be careful…”

-> Nico, “Don’t be afraid to yell at someone, sometimes that’s the only way you can defend yourself.”

-> Nathaniel, “Address your daddy issues, thanks”

-> Natasha, “You seem to be in the shadow of a role you never wanted to be in to begin with. I… I get that.”

-> Lilith, “Are you good? Like emotionally?”

-> Josiah, “I hope you don’t view me as something horrible because of my connections to Avantee”

-> Karissa, “You tell some pretty awesome stories, I hope you find your parents. Mine? Yeah no I don’t care about my parents.”

-> Owen, “I’m so sorry for all you have to deal with in this group.”

-> Barbara, “I respect someone who is willing to murder people who hurt them while still maintaining their confidence and dignity”

-> Chance, “I don’t know how to feel”

-> Amelia, “thanks for the medicine.”

Constance:

-> Pandora, “You’re not okay, even if you like to act and think that you are.”

-> Noah, “You aren’t okay either, address your shit please.”

-> Ambrose, “I am being careful! Stop hovering! >:T”

-> Nico, “I like your staff. Looks cool.”

-> Nathaniel, “you may be a dick to everyone but I think I know why, I’m always here if you wanna chat.”

-> Natasha, “I want to shake your hand in mutual understanding about being forced into the role of our parents.”

-> Lilith, “hm. That’s someone who is using their good looks and charm to cover up the fact that they’re lonely”

-> Josiah, “Don’t even think about mentioning Avantee or Vin’nyla.”

-> Karissa, “Adopted little sister.”

-> Owen, “I’ll help to make things less painful as much as I can.”

-> Barbara, “why couldn’t you have been my mom damn it?”

-> Chance, “idk how to feel.”

-> Amelia, “ohhh, can you teach me some alchemy?”

Nico:

-> Pandora, “Hey you’re like me, maybe we can like, help each other out?”

-> Noah, “why are you so obsessed with electricity and fire…? Also please stay away from me, you scare me.”

-> Ambrose, “scary…”

-> Constance, “Very protective but still kinda scary”

-> Nathaniel, “You don’t have to be like mom…”

-> Natasha, “You don’t have to be like dad…”

-> Lilith, “please stop flirting with everyone. Even if it does sometimes get us out of bad situations”

-> Josiah, “You’re pretty cool, you know a lot about the gods.”

-> Karissa, “I like your stories, reminds me of mom to be honest.”

-> Owen, “ah… why are so many of you scary?”

-> Barbara, “not a huge fan of your gun… or Pandora, Noah’s, or Chance’s guns for that matter.”

-> Chance, “You feel safe to be around, which is weird because you’re kinda loud”.

-> Amelia, “you’re like, the only person who actually gets me besides Karissa and Pandora”

Nathaniel

-> Pandora, “Great. Another person willing to do the gods’ bidding. For both your and my sake, I hope the god of death changes his mind.”

-> Noah, “*glares in mutual “I’m a huge dick to everyone but don’t want to admit it” energy*”

-> Ambrose, “Get off my ass will you?! Demonic ass…”

-> Constance, “What is it with the demons in this group and wanting to boss me around?”

-> Nico, “Make up your mind.”

-> Natasha, “Stop sucking up to dad.”

-> Lilith, “Gross.”

-> Karissa, “Another demon, great.”

-> Owen, “Finally, someone who actually listens”

-> Barbara, “You listen but I’m not sure I like you.”

-> Chance, “Get away from me cyborg.”

-> Amelia, “Thanks for patching me up I guess.”

Natasha:

-> Pandora, “The next champion of death? Maybe you could help me?”

-> Noah, “Reckless fool.”

-> Ambrose, “A friend and ally”

-> Constance, “Also a friend and ally”

-> Nico, “Pick a side, please.”

-> Nathaniel, “Stop trying to force me to be like mom when you already so badly want to be like her.”

-> Lilith, “Could you teach me how to flirt/get into a relationship. I have someone I might like…”

-> Josiah, “You know a lot about the gods, maybe you could help me too?”

-> Karissa, “Your music sounds great, have you heard of soul singing?”

-> Owen, “That’s one hell of a hammer. Keep it away from me please.”

-> Barbara, “You’re pretty cool, still kinda scary though.”

-> Chance, “how are you not dead.”

-> Amelia, “Oh I guess that’s how he’s not dead”

Lilith

-> Pandora, “You feel… no sexual attraction??? How is that possible??”

-> Noah, “You’re murdering your abusers. Okay, I’ll leave you to it my dude.”

-> Ambrose, “Shit he knows doesn’t he?”

-> Constance, “Shit she knows doesn’t she?”

-> Nathaniel, “dude literally stop being an ass to everyone.”

-> Nico, “I could help you with your confidence if you’d like!”

-> Natasha, “oh I could totally teach you how to pick up a partner uwu”

-> Josiah, “Hey dude, you alright? You haven’t been right since Asterope reached out…”

-> Karissa, “You hide behind your bubbly persona when you’re really hurting…”

-> Owen, “Pour me another shot old man! >:D”

-> Barbara, “Badass woman, love it.”

-> Chance, “ayyy! Fellow alcoholic!”

-> Amelia, “Doctor lady. You’ve seen shit haven’t you?”

Josiah

-> Pandora, “You’re in a similar situation that I’m in, but you seem to be less equipped than I am. Maybe I could help?”

-> Noah, “You are a very scary man. I don’t take kindly to how much you engage in murder, but your reason is honorable at least.”

-> Ambrose, “Maybe tieflings aren’t as bad as I thought…”

-> Constance, “You fight for what’s right, I was wrong about you.”

-> Nathaniel, “You need to look in yourself and address why you feel so angry.”

-> Natasha, “I know what it’s like to be in someone else’s shadow…”

-> Nico, “You’re conflicted, but that’s alright. You’re not supposed to have everything figured out.”

-> Lilith, “I’m fine…”

-> Karissa, “You’re getting better at using fire in combative ways!”

-> Owen, “You are a criminal…”

-> Barbara, “You are also a criminal…”

-> Chance, “I think you’ve had divine intervention. No normal person would’ve survived your injuries”

-> Amelia, “I’m sorry that people of my beliefs have tried to kill you, your distrust of me is founded and I respect it.”

Karissa:

-> Pandora, “You’re super cute! Love your hair :)”

-> Noah, “I’m glad you like my music!”

-> Ambrose, “big brother”

-> Constance, “big sister”

-> Nico, “I could play you a song if you’d like, just to ease the nerves”

-> Nathaniel, “Wow, rude.”

-> Natasha, “Maybe I could take your mind off of the situation for a little bit?”

-> Lilith, “Got any new songs? I was thinking we could sing about each of the members of The Crux once we know them better!”

-> Josiah, “thanks for keeping Lilith and I grounded Josie”

-> Owen, “yikes, scary…”

-> Barbara, “scary but in like, a mom way.”

-> Chance, “You seem like you have plenty of stories to tell, tell me them all! I want to sing about them!”

-> Amelia, “Thanks for the fire resistance but I’m a tiefling lol.”

Chance:

-> Pandora, “Champion huh? Ain’t you a special snowflake.”

-> Noah, “I respect what you’re doin’ kid, I’m all for it.”

-> Ambrose, “It’s the quiet ones that getcha”

-> Constance, “Yeah yeah stop badgering me…”

-> Nico, “My guy, you need to toughen up a little bit like your brother”

-> Nathaniel, “Okay maybe not that tough”

-> Natasha, “Go your own way kid, don’t stick in the shadow of your daddy”

-> Lilith, “Now that’s a way of life I can get behind”

-> Josiah, “A religious man, I respect that.”

-> Karissa, “You mind tellin’ me what your life used to be like, sounds interestin’ :)”

-> Owen, “That’s a whole ass criminal right there”

-> Barbara, “Glad to see you’ve improved Barb.”

-> Amelia, “For a “witch” you’re a pretty nice person”

Barbara:

-> Pandora, “Another rich kid… at least you don’t seem to be as bad as the others.”

-> Noah, “Hon I appreciate what you’re doing but uh, ya all right?”

-> Ambrose, “You and your sister are alright.”

-> Constance, “callin’ me out for bein’ an ass. I respect that.”

-> Nico, “hon you need to grow a thicker skin, I’m not expecting you to be perfect at first though.”

-> Nathaniel, “Well aren’t you a bundle of issues? I’m here when you wanna talk little boy.”

-> Natasha, “Another follower of the god of death? Seems we might get along.”

-> Lilith, “Be careful who you trust sugar.”

-> Josiah, “I hope the paladin thing works out for you.”

-> Karissa, “Running away and joining a group you never intended to be a part of… sounds familiar.”

-> Owen, “Lord, please take care of yourself. I’ll uh… I’ll kick your ass if you leave me with all these kids by myself.”

-> Chance, “Good to see you, Sheriff”

-> Amelia, “Glad we got to you before those townsfolk did.”

Owen:

-> Pandora, “You’re one of Diana and Alexander’s kids, aren’t you?”

-> Noah, “Sorry about your mom, kid.”

-> Ambrose, “I hope your brother sees the wrong in what he’s doing…”

-> Constance, “I hope you learn to detach yourself from your parents”

-> Nico, “Try not to be scared of everything kid, there’s too much good in the world to be scared of everything.”

-> Nathaniel, “…”

-> Natasha, “See yourself for who you are and not what you think you should be.”

-> Lilith, “You can have alcohol so long as you clean up after yourself.”

-> Josiah, “You and your sis are polar opposites”

-> Karissa, “Try to be a little more cautious, there’s still some shitty people out there.”

-> Barbara, “Yeah yeah, I’m trying…”

-> Chance, “Good on you for surviving, I can help you with your prosthetics if you’d like, got a few of my own actually…”

-> Amelia, “Thanks for helping with the pain, I appreciate it more than you know.”

Amelia:

-> Pandora, “I wish I could fix your situation… I wish I had something to fix your undead-ness”

-> Noah, “You aren’t human, are you?”

-> Ambrose, “I have just the thing to help you with your muscle pains!”

-> Constance, “I have something to help you in you and your brother’s fight against your literal demons”

-> Nico, “Ohhh! That’s a creative way to build a prosthetic :0”

-> Nathaniel, “You’re so reckless and yet so careful”

-> Natasha, “I have a mana potion if you need it for practice”

-> Lilith, “You’re not getting a health tonic after this, you get drunk too much, and I need those tonics for something else.”

-> Josiah, “I may have something that could help with the visions if you’d like…?”

-> Karissa, “A fire protectant potion just for you!”

-> Owen, “I wonder if the health and regeneration tonics are helping him…”

-> Barbara, “You’re pretty healthy! Good job!”

-> Chance, “stop being so careless you jerk >:T”

[summersblood]

i usually don’t care if people have different opinions than me, but i will freak out irrationally if you say scream 3 sucks. you have to understand that scream 3 is the pinnacle of cinema, and it’s personally my best friend! if you speak out against it, i will come into your home and sit on your chest until you stop breathing.

[spurgie-cousin]

Can u imagine how terrified those kids were screaming to God? Mandrae must just go along with her

This isn't a new thing with them, they're probably used to it tbh. For Christians who put a big emphasis on the holy spirit, charismatic works (yelling, dancing, collapsing, speaking in tongues, etc all while praying) are done in exchange for gifts from the holy spirit (in this case, a healing) and I'm pretty sure Karissa and Mandrae were that flavor of Christian when she took them to actual churches, but I could be wrong. So they've probably been doing it their whole life.

But I'm sure it is scary to have seen so many things happen to your brothers or sisters and done this to help them, only for something else to go wrong or for the situation not to be resolved even though your mom keeps insisting that it is. And how confusing.

[crystal-grace]

Warm up doodle of Karissa.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Queen of Underland: Izzy

CW: Panic attack, child of recovering adult whumpee, anger as trauma response, referenced noncon kissing and touching (nonsexual), childhood bullying, referenced past domestic and child abuse, some gendered and ableist insults (kid to kid and nothing too intense - just fair warning)

Izzy, at nine years old, has been free with her family for almost five years now, and her mother has been in prison on a life sentence for two. With attention, affection, and therapy, she has blossomed into a quiet kid who nearly always has her nose in a book.

When two classmates try to put her in the center of a storm, Izzy finds something inside herself that she has pushed down for so long she had nearly forgotten she ever had it.

Izzy finds her father’s anger.

Jax Gallagher belongs to @comfy-whumpee and is used with permission.

---

Izzy sits at her desk, perfectly still, reading a book while the teacher’s out of the room speaking with another teacher in low voices, just in the hallway. The sun shines in the windows that line the wall, lighting the pages of her book, and one of Izzy’s hands rubs repeatedly over the seam down the side of her uniform skirt, the only movement she makes beyond her eyes.

Around her, the others are whispering, passing notes and giggling (except for Noah, who has his own book open, and Jack, who is drawing his story about giant killer robots in a notebook, and Sarah, Jack’s twin sister who is trying to build a tower of pencils and paper), but Izzy barely notices them.

When the teacher comes back in, Izzy will not be whispering, or giggling, or doing anything that might bother her. When the teacher comes back, Izzy will be quiet, and good, and put her book back into her desk and look up with her hands in her lap. She’s the quietest kid in class, she heard the teacher say so.

At home, she’s not always quiet anymore, but at school she still holds a balance, protecting herself and keeping herself safe in the best and truest way she knows - by simply being exactly what the adults need her to be, and keeping all her real feelings and thoughts inside her head.

Still, while the teacher’s out of the room, she takes a few minutes to read while she has the chance. Her heart beats cold and heavy in her chest as she scans over the words on the page, biting down on her lower lip, worrying at a bit of chapped skin. Her left hand settles over the soft texture of pages nearly yellowed with time spent in the school library being held by hundreds of small hands. The fingers on her right hand feel over the seam of her skirt, right along the outside of her leg, again and again.

Fierce anxiety, and a little fear, swirl inside her for the characters that exist only in ink and her imagination.

Two Earthmen entered, but instead of advancing into the room, they placed themselves one on each side of the door, and bowed deeply. They were followed immediately by the last person whom anyone had expected or wished to see: the Lady of the Green Kirtle, the Queen of Underland. She stood dead still in the doorway, and they could see her eyes moving as she took in the whole situation—the three strangers, the silver chair destroyed, and the Prince free, with his sword in his hand.

“I think I like Karissa,” Henry Fitzgerald, who sits at her left, says to his best friend Kevin Magden - not to be confused with Kevin Michaelson, and didn’t the teacher sigh over that sometimes. He has to speak over and around Izzy’s head. 

“Like, like like her?” Kevin Magden asks, sounding half-horrified, half-fascinated. Izzy fights not to roll her eyes, and tries to focus back on her book, on the entrance of the Queen, on the Prince freed but faced with great danger.

The Queen of the Underland, the lady who held the Prince in the dark for ten whole years, that’s older than Izzy even is. Coming into the room to find the children and the Prince, and her having no control any longer. 

She turned very white; but Jill thought it was the sort of whiteness that comes over some people's faces not when they are frightened but when they are angry. For a moment the Witch fixed her eyes on the Prince, and there was murder in them. Then she seemed to change her mind.

“Run,” Izzy whispers, to the children, to Puddleglum the strange marsh creature, to the freed Prince. “Don’t talk to her, just run. Don’t listen to whatever she says, don’t.”

“What are you even saying, Izzy?” Kevin Magden says.

“She’s all in her book like always,” Henry Fitzgerald says, shrugging. He makes some sort of gesture - Izzy doesn’t look up to see it - and the two of them laugh. She doesn’t care about that. The story is far, far more important than they are anyway. “Anyway, Kev, I like-... yeah, I think I like like her. I’m gonna tell her at break.”

“Gross,” Kevin says, but he sounds fascinated. “What if she says she doesn’t like-like you back?”

Henry shrugs again - Izzy can see the movement from the corner of her eye. “Dunno. Maybe kiss her.”

“Gross,” Kevin repeats, much more emphatically. 

Izzy tries to keep her mind on the page, but shifts uncomfortably in her chair. She closes her eyes briefly, thinking of the Queen of the Underland, standing in the doorway. She imagines her with very white skin and dark, long fingernails, wearing a long dress that brushes the earthen floor, making a soft swish-swish sound as she walks. In her mind, the Queen of the Underland has very bright blue eyes and lots of curly, dark brown hair that is threaded with silver down her back, wild and uncontrolled, like it can reach out and grab you and drag you into the dark with her.

She feels like the Queen is not a stranger to her, and not hard to picture at all. Try as she might, she can’t make the Queen in her imagination look like the description of the Queen in the book. She only ever looks one way - beautiful and wicked, deceptively soft, eyes brilliant and shining too bright when the Prince is in pain.

Will she hurt him, while the children have to stand and watch and can’t save him at all?

"Leave us," she said to the two Earthmen. "And let none disturb us till I call, on pain of death." The gnomes padded away obediently, and the Witch-queen shut and locked the door.

"How now, my lord Prince," she said. "Has your nightly fit not yet come upon you, or is it over so soon? Why stand you here unbound? Who are these aliens? And is it they who have destroyed the chair which was your only safety?"

Izzy can hear the Queen’s voice, musical lilt, simpering sweet and dangerous. Why are you leaving me? How dare you. Come back here, Jax, you can’t leave, you’re mine. 

Kevin and Henry are still talking, but Izzy doesn’t hear them any longer. She’s lost in the panic rising inside of her. Run, she thinks, in a scream, a shout in her mind. It isn’t that she doesn’t understand it’s just a book, but that she is still scared, frightened for the prince whose father had grown older while he was gone, whose family must have missed him so much. She is frightened for the children who do not understand the witch or how to fight her. She’s frightened even for Puddleglum, who only wants to help, to do the right thing. Don’t talk to her, don’t give her the chance, just run. She’ll make you hers again. She swallows - it feels like her heart beats itself right up into her throat, like she is swallowing around it - and keeps reading.

Prince Rilian shivered as she spoke to him. And no wonder: it is not easy to throw off in half an hour an enchantment which has made one a slave for ten years. Then, speaking with a great effort, he said:

“I’ll kiss her even if she doesn’t like me back, anyway.”

Izzy’s breath catches, and she blinks, feeling like she has been pulled out of a spell herself. She looks up, glancing sidelong at Henry, who isn’t looking at her at all, just talking to Kevin. “Hen-... Henry-... what did you say?”

“None of your business,” Henry replies, voice harsh and loud enough to get some of the others to look over at them, and Izzy’s shoulders creep up towards her chin, face burning red. She hates when everyone looks at her, hates it more than anything. Henry looks back at Kevin. “At break, I will. I’ll tell her, and I’ll kiss her, whether she wants to or not.”

Izzy looks back down, but the words on the page run together, she can’t see them any longer, they’re just squiggles, meaningless little lines. What I want just matters more, whispers a nightmare she can never quite feel woken up from. She tries, she really does, to focus again on the book but she sees secondly, she took out a musical instrument- 

Izzy slams the little paperback shut, sticks it back in her desk, and says in a thin voice, “You can’t do that if someone doesn’t want you to, it’s wrong.”

“It’s not a big deal, Izzy, geez.” Kevin on her other side speaks up now, and between them she feels like she’s being battered, tossed on a sea, shoved down, locked in the dark. Izzy stares down at her desk, then, letting her eyes lose focus on the wavy colors in the polished wood. Light brown, almost auburn, and darker brown, almost a chocolate color, very like the hair on Izzy’s own head, clipped short and spiky.

Very very like the wavy, thick curls that ran down her mother’s back, that smothered Izzy in the smell of her shampoo and perfume. 

“It is a big deal,” Izzy whispers. “It’s wrong, to make someone kiss you. It’s wrong. It-... it hurts them. It matters what they want, too.”

“Ugh. It's just a kiss. You’re bonkers, you know that?" Henry leans over, almost in her space, and Izzy sits back as far as she can until she presses her back hard into her chair, enough to hurt. “Absolutely mad.” 

“No, I’m not,” Izzy mumbles, but panic twists even worse inside her. Is she? Her mom is. Isn’t she? Don’t you have to be, to be evil? Dr. Marty says no, that those two things are totally separate and people are just bad at understanding that people can be really, really, really bad and still be sane - that bad people almost always are - and Dr. Marty knows everything about crazy and not-crazy, that’s his whole job, and she’s not like her mother anyway, she’s not. 

“Are so,” Henry taunts, falling easily into the familiar cadence of mockery, and Izzy’s face burns brighter and hotter as the room begins to fall quiet, other conversations falling away as the others realize there might be some entertainment now. Her breath comes faster, and she closes her hands into fists at her side, fighting to control the way the fear and a new rise of anger start to twist around inside her stomach, making it flip, making her feel sick. “You’re bonkers for sure, Izzy Gallagher.”

“I-I’m not. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not! It’s not right to kiss people who you don’t know if they want to or not! It’s not!”

The room feels suddenly too small, and too big - she can’t escape Henry’s bean-breath and she can’t run far enough to get to the door, she can’t run at all. Some small voice inside her demands she stay still, shut her mouth, never talk again. She should have just finished her book, seen how the Prince would escape the Queen of the Underland, seen if the children help him or just weigh him down, one more bit of stone tying him to Underland and maybe he wishes he could just leave them behind, if they bother him, if they’re no good-

“Ewwwww, who would want to kiss Izzy?” A girl near her wrinkles her nose - Lindsey Smith, Izzy’s brain supplies, in an airless dizzy spin of details that aren’t important but she can’t stop circling around. “She looks like a boy.”

“Hey, back off.” Izzy, surprised, glances over her shoulder to find Noah Hawkins looking up from his own book, eyes narrowed. “Izzy’s hair is cool, and it’s cooler than yours anyway, Lindsey-kins. You just wish you looked as good as she does.”

“Shut up! You just say that because you’re a boy, of course you think boy hair looks cool.” Lindsey sticks her tongue out, crossing her arms in front of herself. She has big poofy hair like Izzy’s would be if she didn’t have her dad cut it so short, held back with a clip. Hers is red, though.

“There’s no such thing,” Sarah says from over by the window. “As boy or girl hair, I mean. There’s no such thing. It’s all just hair. Izzy’s hair does look cool. You all should leave it alone, Mrs. Brent is going to be back inside any second and we’ll all get in trouble if there’s fighting.”

“Yeah, Izzy,” Henry hisses at her, leaning in close. Too close. She forgets how to breathe. “Stop causing trouble, Izzy.”

“I’m not,” Izzy whispers. Her face feels like it might light on fire. Her fingernails dig into her palms, until she feels flashes of pain, creating crescents that could take hours to fully fade if she did it hard enough. “I was-... I was just-”

“Just butting in where you don’t belong,” Henry finishes for her. “It’s not your business.”

“It’s-... but, but I just-” Her voice is fading fast, airy and breathless, barely a whisper. Quiet little Izzy Gallagher, who never stands up for herself, who lets everyone talk to her like this, who never says a word she isn’t asked to say. Her fear batters her with wings inside her chest, but beneath it is something else entirely, trying to rise up and take over her mind and mouth. Anger. She and Dr. Marty had talked about it, about how it was a normal feeling to feel, but every swell of it within her was met by the rising tide of fear in response.

She never lets herself be angry. That would make her like her mother, who was angry so much, and she’s not like that, she’s not. 

She doesn’t think, in the moment, that her mother isn’t the only parent who knows how to be angry.

The thoughts are not conscious. They aren’t driven by any kind of logic, they loop and swirl around each other. They flash bright like light in the back of her mind. She thinks about the story, the book inside her desk, the way the Prince fell upon the silver chair, how he swung his sword in dim light. 

She thinks about the prince walking out the hotel doors with a baby in one arm and a little girl on his hip, a backpack heavy against his back, into the sunlight outside. She can remember the way he breathed quick and shallow against her hair, the racing of his heart as he asked her to be very quiet, and very brave. She didn’t know he was scared, he didn’t say it, he was just the Prince, shining in the sunlight, asking for directions to the train station and going in a suit to court later and the silver gave way before the sword’s edge like string, and in a moment a few twisted fragments, shining on the floor, were all that was left of the chair. 

“But-but-but-but, I just-” Henry is still going, and Izzy’s eyes burn as hot as her face, lips pulling back from her teeth in a grimace like a snarl. “Just shut up, Izzy Gallagher, nobody cares what you think.”

“Don’t be a dick, I care,” Noah says, from the back of the room, his voice getting louder, now. Other students whoop and go ooooh, Noah likes Izzy, but Noah ignores them, and he doesn’t turn even a little bit red. “Izzy hasn’t done anything wrong to you.” She barely knows Noah, he’s in her class but they don’t talk or anything. This is the first time he’s done more than help her with a math problem, this is the first time she’s heard him even talk in class without the teacher calling on him.

But it feels good to have somebody else stand up for her. 

“She’s butting in!” Henry protests, hands up like he’s the innocent one. “Kevin and I were just talking-”

“About kissing Karissa Bellweather!” Izzy half-shouts. “From the other class! You were talking about kissing someone even if she doesn’t want to! You said you would even if she said no! That’s not right!”

“Ew,” Someone says, Izzy doesn’t know who. Her blood is rushing in her ears almost too loud to hear. “Do you like-like Karissa Bellweather, Henry?”

“No! I don’t!” Henry looks stricken. He hadn’t expected her to just say it out loud like that to everybody. “Gallagher’s lying! She’s a liar!”

“I’m not! I’m not a fucking liar!” Her voice is too loud and she claps her hands over her mouth. Don’t cry, she thinks to herself, and her own thought-voice twists into her mother’s sharper edges. Her palms ache and she wonders if her nails have broken skin, but the wonder is faint, and faded. She feels a hand pressed against the back of her neck, the Queen of the Underland’s voice beside her ear. Don’t cry, Bella. You’re so ugly when you cry. Jax, get her out of my sight. 

“Fuck off,” Izzy says, voice trembling. She isn’t really talking to Henry, not anymore. “Leave-... leave me alone.”

“Oooh, what’re you gonna do, huh? Gonna throw some punches?” Kevin is too close on the other side, now. They’re both too close. Izzy’s heart beats all out of time, and when she goes to breathe, it… it doesn’t work. Her breath is stuck in her throat, halfway down. The air just… sits there, and she can’t hitch it in or exhale it. It feels like her throat is closing up, she’ll choke on nothing, black out and fall down. “Bonkers Izzy Gallagher, gonna fight us, are you?”

“I-I could-” Her voice is a whimper, and Izzy closes her eyes. 

“Could not,” Henry mocks, from his side of her. “You’re weak as a puppy. What are you gonna do?”

“Stop-... stop you from talking anymore,” Izzy says, and pushes her chair back with a loud scrape, getting to her feet. She should tell Dr. Marty about the book, she thinks, about the Queen of the Underland. She should tell her father about the Prince tied to the chair, and how he chopped the chair to bits, and she should tell them all about it, nice and safe and quiet at home, and not do what she’s afraid she’s going to do instead.

“How, gonna use something you learned from your mam in prison?” Henry asks, and Izzy remembers, all at once, how to breathe - but it’s all poison. She gulps in air, fear sparking up, her nerves feel like a hundred thousand tiny lightning strikes. She wants to run but she’s at school and there isn’t anywhere to go. 

“Wh-what?”

“My dad says your mam’s famous in the States for being in prison,” Henry says, leaping on this new tactic as the blood drains from Izzy’s face. He’s like animals on the nature shows that James likes to watch at home with their snack, circling a calf all alone. She’s a wounded baby calf, she’s weighing the herd down, she’s not strong or brave enough, she never was. “Did she teach you how to prison-fight? Ooooh, did she show you how to make a-” He jabs at the air, fist closed empty around an imaginary knife. “A prison-blade?”

“Shiv,” Kevin supplies helpfully.

“Right, that. Did your mam show you how to shank someone?”

“I don’t-... I don’t talk to my mom,” Izzy says, half-strangled by her own words. Her head is spinning. Her backpack is so far away. “We don’t-... we don’t have contact-... she doesn’t talk to me, isn’t allowed-”

“Oh, ew.” Henry sits back, and his face lights up with the simple cruelty of wounding someone who looks unable to fight back, of regaining his own stability and distracting everyone from his embarrassment by bringing up Izzy’s shame instead. “Are you so awful even your mam doesn’t want to talk to you?”

No. She doesn’t. Izzy’s lip trembles. She can’t bring herself to try and respond. She doesn’t, she doesn’t want to know anything about me at all. The last thing my mom ever said to me was yelling at me not to look so scared all the time and Dad said she never asked about me when he talked to her during the trial she never asked she never-

“Hey, Henry,” Someone says. “This is super gross stuff to say, isn’t it?” Izzy can’t see anything but Henry’s face, everything else is white noise and his words ringing through her, settling too deeply inside, meeting her own thoughts that match them, sometimes, on hard days. She never asked about me, she doesn’t even care that I hate her. Your mam is supposed to care if you hate her. You’re so awful your mom doesn’t even care about you. Your mam is supposed to-

“Yeah, Henry. That’s too far, that’s really mean.”

“She can’t help who her mam is, Hen.”

“Yeah, it’s not like she went to the mam shop and picked a rubbish one.”

“My dad was away for a while, Iz, I get it. My mam says it doesn’t say anything about us. People make bad choices is all.”

“I haven’t even seen my dad since I was five, Izzy, it’s okay, don’t be sad.”

“Yeah, it’s okay, Izzy, don’t be sad, Henry’s just being awful.”

“Hey, she was awful first!”

“Go run up a pole, Henry. I like you, Izzy,” Sarah says, from the window, and moves in her direction. “Henry’s being a jerk, don’t listen to him. Don’t be sad. It’s okay.”

“I like you, too, you’re fun at break, you always have good ideas for games.” That’s Amira, using that certain kind of tone you use when you are trying to comfort an upset person, and Izzy feels some of the ice closing around her heart starting to warm up, to melt, to crack apart. 

Even Lindsey says, almost grudging, “Don’t be sad because of Henry, Izzy. He’s really mean sometimes.”

“I think you’re really cool,” Noah says, in a quieter voice. “Please don’t be sad. Want to play monsters at break?”

They don’t all hate her, they don’t. Someone puts a hand at her back, and she flinches, and they pull the hand away, but they don’t hate her for pulling away, they don’t hate her voice or her hair and they don’t hate her for speaking up, they don’t. 

Henry hasn’t given up, not yet. “Your mam’s in prison for being a shit to your dad, isn’t she?” 

Izzy doesn’t look at him, leaning down to pull the book out of her desk, trying to think. She can pull her backpack out and go the nurse, say she’s feeling sick, and maybe her dad will come get her and take her home. They can call Dr. Marty and she can tell him what happened and Dr. Marty will know what to tell her and her dad to work on for the next time. She can tell him that there were good things, too, like that Noah said he thinks she’s cool, and Amira likes her game ideas, and not everybody hates her because she has the wrong mom, and it’s going to be okay. 

It’s going to be okay.

“Henry, stop it,” She says, in a half-whisper. “Please stop.”

She can go to the nurse. Say she’s sick, it’s not a lie, her stomach is all twisted up in knots. It’ll be true, she’s not going to feel better. She has sweat on her forehead drying cold, making her shiver a little. It’s not a lie, being scared makes her sick, it’s a real sick, it’s not a lie. She gets sick a lot from being scared, Dr. Marty says it’s normal for kids who have anxiety, she has exercises to do, she can picture all her hurting thoughts and move them away, and… 

“That’s what my dad said.” Henry’s voice cuts in. “He said your mam’s a piece of fucking work and probably made your dad one, too-”

“Don’t talk about my dad!” She rounds on him, then, book clutched to her chest. “Don’t you dare, you don’t-... you don’t have any right! You don’t know what happened, you don’t know us, you don’t know anything! My dad is better than yours ever could be! And, and stronger, and braver, too!”

Izzy Gallagher, quiet as a mouse, teacher’s pet from sheer terrified inaction, who always sits still and listens carefully and takes direction so well and is just an absolute pleasure to have in class, Mr. Gallagher, an absolute pleasure, is shouting and doesn’t realize it until the words have left her mouth. 

She should stop, some part of her brain begs her to stop, but the anger is suddenly larger than the fear and she is a little girl with a sword. Where they came from, and what she and her father and her little brother have survived, is a silver chair she will hack to bits until all that’s left shines like jewelry when held up to the light.

Henry’s eyes widen, they are big saucers, and they are very bright and very blue.

“My dad is amazing.” She can’t stop shouting. She’s not even trying to stop any longer. “He lived through really bad stuff and he still got us away from it! Even though it would have been easier to go by himself and leave us, he didn’t, and my mom is evil, and I’m not, because you don’t have to be what your mom is and I’m not ever going to be like that, but you are evil, Henry Fitzgerald, and you don’t even have an excuse! You’re-... you’re mean for no reason, and I hope Karissa spits in your face and kicks you between your legs as hard as she fucking can! You are an asshole, Henry Fitzgerald, and you can go fuck yourself all the way home!”

“Isabella Gallagher!” Mrs. Brent’s voice is shocked, and the words die in Izzy’s throat, as she slowly turns to see the teacher standing in the doorway, staring at her like she’d grown three heads and all of them have fangs. 

Izzy feels like she has fangs, too. And claws, like she is a monster herself. She should be scared, or sad, or ashamed of herself, but all she feels is anger burning bright and hot and good in her veins, louder than fear. Angry feels safer than scared. She feels proud of herself, a feeling so unfamiliar it seems like it must be someone else’s. Sarah, close to her now, whispers, go Izzy, in a soft impressed voice, and Izzy feels her eyes burn again, more than before, but for a different reason. 

They don’t hate her, and Henry isn’t saying bad things about her dad any longer, because of her. They don’t hate her.

“You might be even cooler now,” Amira says, and the teacher shushes all of them and points Izzy out, telling her to go see the Head Teacher. Any other Izzy would slink out with her shoulders hunched, full of fear, but this Izzy feels the buzz of standing up for herself running through her and warming all the cold, chasing the heavy hand on her neck away. This Izzy walks with her chin up and her shoulders back.

Some of the warm feeling goes away when the Head Teacher calls her dad to come get her, and says in her stern hard voice that Izzy was yelling and cursing at another student. The Head Teacher doesn’t say that she had a reason, and makes it sound like Izzy just stood up and started cursing for no reason at all. That’s… that’s not fair. Grown-ups always do that, make it seem like kids just go off for no reason, and Izzy can’t hear what her dad says back to the Head Teacher, but a lot of the warm feeling goes away, then. Her heart feels cold and scared again.

What if he’s mad at her?

What if she can’t be sorry enough to fix it?

Izzy sits in a hard wooden chair that is shaped all wrong for kids and makes her legs hurt after a while, waiting for him to come get her with a racing heart, her book open in her lap. 

There’s some brown-y red smeared on the cover, drying. She made her palms bleed when she was scared and didn’t even notice. She’ll ask her dad to buy the school library a new one. She wants to keep this one for herself.

"I have come," said a deep voice behind them. They turned and saw the Lion himself, so bright and real and strong that everything else began at once to look pale and shadowy compared with him. And in less time than it takes to breathe Jill forgot about the dead King of Narnia and remembered only how she had made Eustace fall over the cliff, and how she had helped to muff nearly all the signs, and about all the snappings and quarrellings. And she wanted to say "I'm sorry" but she could not speak. Then the Lion drew them towards him with his eyes, and bent down and touched their pale faces with his tongue, and said:

"Think of that no more. I will not always be scolding. You have done the work for which I sent you into Narnia."

"Please, Aslan," said Jill, "may we go home now?"

"Yes. I have come to bring you Home," said Aslan.

A flash of gray, worn jeans in her vision brings her slowly into awareness of the world around her, but it’s the voice that breaks her completely from the story’s spell. 

“Talk to me, kiddo.”

Izzy looks up to meet her father’s eyes, surprised - she hadn’t even heard him come up. But they’re quiet movers, the Gallaghers - except for Jamie, who never had to learn to move so quiet she couldn’t hear him, who never had to push down all his sounds so deep inside himself he could go whole days without making any at all. 

Her dad drops into a crouch in front of her, and his knees crack a little, but if it bothers him he doesn’t show it. He looks up at her, from this angle, and he doesn’t look mad.

He almost never looks mad at her.

“I got a call that you were fighting in class.” He looks like he’s trying not to twitch a smile at the corner of his mouth. “And using some pretty creative language.”

“Can’t imagine where I learned to curse,” Izzy says gravely, and there - that was definitely a smile on his face that he has to hide as fast as it shows. She lives for her father’s smile. Still, she closes her book, and folds her hands on top of the stain on the cover so he won’t see it. “I only yelled a little. Henry Fitzgerald was mean to me, and he was going to-... he was going to kiss a girl who didn’t want him to kiss her, even if she didn’t want him to. He said it didn’t matter if she wanted to or not.”

“Ah.” It’s all he says, at first. His face doesn’t show much, now. Her nervous heart starts to beat fast again.

“It’s, that was, um, that was before he got mean. He got mean when I told him that it’s wrong to do that and… I kind of… told everybody in class he was going to.”

Her father’s eyebrows raise, a little. “You did, did you?”

“Yes. Then he said his dad told him my mom’s in prison and that-” She stops herself, closing her hands tightly over the book, before her voice can start to shake again. She takes deep breaths, strong ones, fills her whole lungs up. Her dad waits for her, he always waits for Izzy when she needs him to. “He said, it was just, it was a stupid thing, but it made me really angry.”

Her dad’s face hasn’t changed, but Izzy knows when emotions change in a room, even without anyone’s face moving at all. She can feel that something has shifted inside him, something he’s not showing her. “What did he say?” 

“That I must be awful if my mom doesn’t even want to talk to me.” She says it flat, like it doesn’t bother her at all to hear it. No big deal, it’s normal to have a mother who hates you for stealing your father even though it didn’t happen that way. “Then he said mean stuff about you, and… I was already upset, so… I kind of went off on him. I’m sorry you got called and had to come get me.”

“But you’re not sorry you did it,” He says, and it’s not a question.

She presses her lips tightly together, and shakes her head. “I’m… I’m not. He needed to be yelled at. I’m not sorry, Dad. I mean, I am sorry that you have to do anything, but, I’m not-... sorry for calling him all those names and I will put my money from my birthday in the swear jar if you want, I’ll skip tea for a week and put all my chocolates in there, but I still won’t be sorry for yelling when he was mean about you.”

He huffs a sound like quiet laughter and offers her his hands. “Izzy… I don’t care what a year three kid - or his dad - says about me. But clearly it was important to you. Let me go in there and talk to the Head Teacher about it, and we’ll talk out what happens next on our way home. Okay?”

No anger, or threatening punishments, no mention of discipline ever leaves his slightly smiling lips. Izzy is never taught through making her afraid, not anymore. But he waits, seriously, for her to acknowledge what he’s said. 

“Okay, Dad. We’ll talk about what I need to do. And-... can we call Dr. Marty when we get home? I-... want to talk to Dr. Marty about what happened.”

He looks surprised, but not unhappy about it, and nods. “Yeah, kiddo. Good plan. I’ll be back out in just a bit.” When he turns to walk into the Head Teacher’s office, she thinks that even with everything, he looks very like a grown-up prince, and the rings in his ears look like shredded silver. 

She lifts a hand to touch the shell of her own ear, on her left side. 

Izzy opens her book, to the murmur of their voices as they talk about her. She decides to finish it later, and instead she flips back to read again the bit where the prince takes his sword to the chair that kept him under the spell and tells the evil Queen of Underland that he isn’t hers any longer. 

He will go home, to his family, to be freed of her entirely, even if she still shows up in bad dreams… bad dreams are the only place she can come to, now. He’ll wake up and someone will tell him that she’s gone and she can’t come back, and it will be true. They’ll tell him, again and again, until he believes it. 

Izzy will tell her dad, until he believes it.

Jax will tell her, until she believes it, too.

But first… 

Prince Rilian shivered as she spoke to him. And no wonder: it is not easy to throw off in half an hour an enchantment which has made one a slave for ten years. Then, speaking with a great effort, he said:

"Madam, there will be no more need of that chair. And you, who have told me a hundred times how deeply you pitied me for the sorceries by which I was bound, will doubtless hear with joy that they are now ended for ever. There was, it seems, some small error in your Ladyship's way of treating them. These, my true friends, have delivered me. I am now in my right mind, and there are two things I will say to you…”

“Go fuck yourself,” Izzy whispers with a smile on her face and the thrill of forbidden words up her spine. She isn’t talking to Henry Fitzgerald this time, either. She never really was. “And I’m not sorry you’re not Queen anymore at all.”

---

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @whump-tr0pes @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @pretty-face-breaker @raigash @vickytokio @eatyourdamnpears

[amysteryspot]

Purple

PURPLE: We near never speak, but I do enjoy your presence on my dashboard.

Oh Karissa, that's so sweet. I do enjoy you being around a LOT. Let's fix the not talking thing, we should be besties.

Give me a color, pretty please