#like if i had to put myself in the shoes of someone on the board
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
one day we might all grasp that none of the roys are good ceos because it turns out logan roys strategy of swing your dick around and dump money on the problem is a bad solution when youre in a dying industry, no one likes you, and you're running out of money. Much less when youre his children trying to pull that stunt on people who aren't as afraid of you as your father
People take it so personally when you suggest their favorite isnt good at this like babes....its a good thing to be bad at being a billionaire CEO those things shouldnt exist
yeah like obviously genuinely trying to buy into the question of which one would make the "best ceo" is a total losing game just like sincerely trying to discourse about "who should win the iron throne" like thematically that is so beyond the point and has nothing to do with their moral virtue and perhaps it's even the inverse blah blah blah. but i do think as a viewer you cant really help but engage with it anyway if you turn off your feelings and themes brain and turn on your annoying strategy logic brain for fun and profit. like kendall has actual knowledge of how business shit actually works for real and ran a wing of the company for a decade. he just has no likeability and insanely bad luck and no integrity or coherent vision and also is mildly unstable. roman is very stupid and evil but has good luck and is willing to make wild moves and connects a bit better with people because of his low charm (sometimes backfires). poor shiv has bad luck and isnt very likeable and also doesnt know business (through little fault of her own of course). well at least she has principles. *puts hand to ear* okay i'm getting word that she also does not have principles
#they're ALL failgirls of flopcity <3#succession#i mean i do think keeping abreast of their quote unquote actual business acumen is interesting because it can reveal#a lot about the characters' psychology and upbringing and the situations theyre in#but yeah like it's all stupid and fake lol#like if i had to put myself in the shoes of someone on the board? kendall. but it's not like. he'd be GOOD
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sukuna's Loneliness Part 1
(Thoughts on Sukuna's Dehumanization as of JJK 261.)
Part 2
Some things to keep in mind...
1) This analysis deals with topics of ableism, racism, and discrimination. (Very brief suicidal ideation mention.)
2) I will be mainly using the TCB scans because of their accessibility.
3) There are a lot of links so you know I'm not making stuff up. The sources are both formal and informal. Please do research on some of the discussed topics to gain a better understanding of them.
(Click pictures for captions/citations.)
The Name Ryomen Sukuna
Before we start this needs to be made clear. Ryomen Sukuna is not a first and last name. Ryomen is a title. Sukuna is a name.
Ryomen uses the kanji 両面 which can be translated as "two-faced".
Sukuna uses the kanji 宿儺 which can be translated as "specter". Individually the kanji can be read as "lodging, inn" (宿, suku) and "exorcism" (儺, na).
Two-faced specter is not a nice name to put it lightly. It's such a mean spirited name that the JP fanbase suspects he was called something else before becoming The Disgraced One.
Normally I would assume his parents did not name him this, however, Sukuna himself had this to say about his birth.
In the original Japanese, Sukuna calls himself 忌み子 (Imigo) which can be translated as "Abominable Child", "Unwanted Child", or "Shunned Child." None of these translations in my opinion get across how severe Imigo is. It's closer to meaning "child who should've never been born". Like the child's very existence is an affront to god. (If you play Elden Ring the Omen are called Imigo in Japanese for this reason.)
You combine this fact with his name and it starts to paint a nasty picture. Sukuna straight up may not have a last name in part from what is implied to be disownment from birth.
Sukuna's Trauma
(Even if he won't acknowledge it as something that has deeply affected him.)
As a Basketball American (aka one of those people with a unique skeletal structure and muscles as Mr. Gojo Satoru would say), I consider myself a professional experiencer of discrimination. This means when a character has likely experienced something similar to me, I can sniff it out like a bloodhound. Though what Sukuna experiences is much closer to ableism than racism. (Discrimination across the board is pretty similar in a lot of ways you know.)
Sukuna is disabled—not as in he lacks an able body (my goodness he is too ablebodied), but as society is not built with any consideration for him. He’s a massive conjoined twin with 4 eyes and 4 arms and 2 mouths. If you know anything about being tall in Japan, it's that it’s a nightmare. Doorways, showers, bathrooms, and buildings are built for small people which leads to the very infrastructure causing problems for anyone big. But Sukuna’s size is just the start of those kinds of problems. He canonically wears women’s kimonos to accommodate his arms since they have larger sleeves. He often goes shirtless or wears a shawl simply because clothing isn’t made for him.
If you’ve known or read anything by people with mobility issues or missing limbs, a major complaint is clothing. For example someone with a missing leg can either pay for expensive customized pants, or they can purchase regular pants and tie off the extra pant leg. They can have trouble buying one shoe since they almost always come in pairs. (To rectify this sometimes they find a mirror twin called a Sole Mate who they share the extra shoe with.)
Now if I’ve learned anything from people with mobility issues, it’s that ablebodied people are really fudging annoying and rude. They will grab mobility aids unprompted and even move people around in wheelchairs without permission. In this treatment, the ablebodied dehumanize the disabled and treat them like objects in their way.
Sukuna also experiences objectification in a similar manner. People see him as an obstacle to conquer, a means to test their strength, a helpless thing that needs curing, a test subject to study, and a symbol for their own use. All of these things are extremely dehumanizing and things disabled people may have to deal with.
We’ve got Yuji and co seeing him as a curse to exorcize.
Kashimo and others using Sukuna to test their strength.
Yorozu seeing Sukuna’s lack of interest in romantic/sexual love as a thing to be cured. (Your honor, he is aroace.)
Kenjaku using Sukuna as a test subject and insurance for The Plan.
Heian era society revering him as a god to use him in rituals for their benefit.
The last example is a very interesting form of discrimination. If you aren’t familiar with the term, there is one called benevolent prejudice. This is when discriminatory beliefs are flattering instead of malicious. (Examples: Black people are athletic, Asian people are smart, etc.)
Benevolent prejudice still results in negative outcomes for the group affected, but to me personally, some of them are kind of hilarious in isolation. Here are some of my favorites:
I’m pretty sure this is why Gojo apologizes so readily to Miguel and without resistance. He realizes “oh crap I’m doing to Miguel what everyone does to me”.
And yes this belief had a negative outcome for Miguel—it’s likely the reason Gojo beat him so hard compared to other characters in the JJK 0 movie. (Remember Gege has direct involvement in the anime.) This is canonically a racially motivated beatdown, trauma response from the black ropes mimicking Toji notwithstanding.
On the ableism side of things this benevolent prejudice can manifest as turning people with deformities or atypical features into objects for worship, fetishization, or sacrifice.
As an aside, I suspect Uraume’s gender is ambiguous because they’re intersex. And boy howdy do intersex people experience dehumanization as objects of worship (fetishization and religious symbols) or as a problem that needs to be corrected (forced surgical procedures/mutilation and erasure). This, in my opinion, might be the reason Sukuna likes them more than anyone else. Uraume may not fully understand the isolation of strength, but they do get the dehumanizing way in which society treats them both.
My point here is that Sukuna experiences regular prejudice and the benevolent type. All of which are dehumanizing from every single angle, leaving him in a state of near constant objectification. (Uraume puts Sukuna on a pedestal as their master which is emotionally isolating but they still see him as an individual on his own merits.)
What constant systemic discrimination does to a motherfudger...
So now that we've established how Sukuna's dehumanization happened, I can rant about how this is probably a major reason behind his disconnect from his humanity and a source of his loneliness.
Gege has stated that Sukuna and other people don’t really know how to categorize his personhood. He's so strong he's more like a natural disaster than anything else.
Sukuna says things like this about himself.
"If I was a cursed spirit…"
"...that's the sort of human I was."
He doesn’t see himself as a human or a curse. At one point he did consider himself human but stopped. He sees himself as this third thing which is highly likely to be a “living creature” as Gojo would put it.
Gojo also experienced benevolent prejudice that lead to his dehumanization and subsequent objectification (thanks JJK 261 for making me realize it was much worse than I assumed). And from birth too. I think this is why they’re able to connect so well during their fight. Especially since this prejudice leads to them becoming sinks for everyone's burdens while being scorned in the same breath. (It's like how people adore "my kind's" athletic/manual labor abilities but then don't want us in their neighborhoods.) The world isn't made for them but it's going to exploit the very thing it hates them for.
The difference between those two is probably the stares of disgust and day to day inconveniences from the extra parts. Gojo can effectively blend in with other humans if he really tries. Sukuna cannot. (Maybe that’s why he says this too.)
Sukuna to me, feels like a manifestation of this rage against constant systemic discrimination. You look at him funny? He kills you. You treat him like a thing that serves you? He kills you.
I know I'm projecting but hear me out!
I don't think Sukuna was aggressively abused by others for his appearance to get to this point by the way. It's more of a death by 1,000 cuts scenario. Someone crossing the street to avoid you, a flash of revulsion when they look at you, backhanded compliments, name-calling in whispers, gentle reminders you don't belong in infrastructure and accessibility to resources. On their own they feel like paper cuts, but if you experience them constantly without time to recover, one day you look down and realize there's a massive rotting gash.
Thankfully I have friends and spaces where I can exist without being subject to discrimination. I can treat these wounds and keep going relatively ok. When I was a child, I didn't have a proper outlet for that and it ate me alive. I flip flopped between wanting to magically wake up fully white or disappearing entirely and wanting everything to explode. Sometimes I wanted all of these thing at the same time. These old wounds reopen on occasion but I know how to deal with that now.
In Sukuna's behavior and attitude, I see that kind of hurt. And his coping strategy appears to be making everything explode since violence is all he knows. Maybe cannibalism wasn't the healthiest way to deal with this but you know it's Jujutsu Kaisen.
Speaking of cannibalism, the definition of a cannibal is an individual that eats members of their own species. Sukuna is regarded as a non-human by everyone around him in every instance except when he is called a cannibal. He’s not human enough to be a part of society but just human enough to be a cannibal. His status as a human changes in what makes it easiest to disregard him as an individual worthy of respect or consideration. (Think of how conservatives misgender gender non-conforming cis people and then turn around and misgender trans people for hypocritical reasons.)
Sukuna’s acknowledgement of both Jogo and Gojo is bittersweet with this lens. Jogo is a curse fighting on behalf of curses’ humanity. He wants curses to live as humans after being born lowly and unwanted in a world that wants him erased. Gojo is a human forced into godhood by circumstances he couldn’t control. He’s someone who became isolated and rejected by others until he stopped seeing himself as a human. Sukuna has lived both of these experiences and connects with them in a way no one else can.
Unfortunately, because Sukuna only knows how to love through violence, he kills them. (Great job, Sukuna, you did this to yourself. You could've had friends.)
I also suspect this is why Sukuna believes this.
This type of society is one in which Sukuna can exist. He can relentlessly pursue the strength through which he builds his self-esteem and be acknowledged as something. However, that is still isolating. And Sukuna is a human, which means he’s a social creature that needs companionship. (Not necessarily romantic or sexual mind you.)
I find Sukuna’s vague suicidal ideation and refusal to die extremely relatable for all these reasons. Much like Gojo, he seems to be convinced the world will never treat him the way he wants to be treated and wants out.
There’s also something to be said about the unique loneliness aromantic and asexual people experience from wanting deep and fulfilling relationships without romance or sex in a world that only values relationships with both of those things.
So why is Sukuna like that?
Despite knowing how much it sucks to be dehumanized, Sukuna still participates in dehumanization himself, referring to humans as insects/animals or things for him to play with.
And in a Kenjaku parallel, food for him to enjoy as well.
I predict this attitude he has towards humans is the direct result of his dehumanization and objectification for his appearance and strength. It’s all one big unhealthy coping mechanism.
I think this is why Yuji ideologically pisses him off so much. Imagine truly believing all this isolation and suffering for innate characteristics made you stronger, only to find someone who experienced none of that starts rising to your level and shatters your entire world view.
Trauma isn’t something that makes people stronger, but Sukuna likely believes it does as a cope. In my last analysis I called Gojo a sopping-wet pathetic cat who pretends everything is ok. Sukuna is no different if you ask me.
#cactus yaps#Not me realizing I stopped seeing myself as human because of some silly anime boys.#Not Gojo and Sukuna being my faves because of my race related dehumanization. My queerness made the non-human status fun though.#Stay tuned for Part 2 of me bullying Sukuna. He's even more pathetic than I'm letting on and I will get there eventually.#My citations are all over the place but they're important. Other people's experiences are important.#That person who called Sukuna and Gojo twin flames was right.#ryomen sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jjk spoilers
243 notes
·
View notes
Text
I can acknowledge that the text SAYS that Annabeth Chase worked out her problems with her dad, that her stepmom seemed "nice", and that her "resentment" is described as seemingly unimportant in Blood of Olympus. I can acknowledge the text SAYS that Annabeth's family problems are resolved.
However. That does not mean that I actually buy it. If RR wanted me to accept that outcome, he should have done the actual work of proving it.
Yes we have the scene with the plane and Mrs. Chase telling Percy that Annabeth has a home.
But those two scenes in TTC don't actually work as a source of a resolution to that plot thread because they don't address the root of the problem- Annabeth being hurt by Frederick's neglect and her step-mother 's blame/callousness.
Even if they ARE trying to do better now (which to honest, feels like a cop out to me, almost as if RR just decided he no longer wanted to write that thread and cut it off quickly) the problem lies in what already happened in the past and how badly Annabeth was hurt by it.
She could have died so, so easily, and even if you want to argue perfect intent for the Chase adults (which I don't) she was emotionally fucked up by what happened for years. This has already happened.
But there's not even a hint of an apology or actual reflection on what caused those events and how things need to be moving forward. It's just assumed that TTC automatically fixes everything.
And yes, I actively have a post going around about how an author has to pick and choose their narratives and what they want to focus on for what characters.
But I would argue that RR already chose to make that plot line an important part of the plot- given how it drives Annabeth's motivations and actionals on an emotional level for pretty much all of TTC- it's just that he handled it badly.
If it was going to be addressed, especially if it was going to be "fixed", then we needed more to convince us that Annabeth had reason to trust her parents again. And again, for me one plane scene that doesn't go into what Annabeth has already experienced doesn't work for me personally.
Especially when you look at things like how Annabeth was still living in boarding schools full time, her description of the night she ran away in HOH, her persistent fear of abandonment.
And before anyone brings it up, I do actually have some sympathy for Frederick Chase. I personally am deeply adverse to the idea of having children of my own, so putting myself in his shoes of having been given a whole infant I never wanted and didn't know was a possibility, freaks me out a little too!
BUT. That doesn't change the fact that he had a responsibility as an adult-
to either choose to raise Annabeth fully as his child and accept the responsibility that entailed
OR
to find someone who could take care of her the way she deserved if he was not emotionally or mentally able to fulfill those needs.
I'm not saying any of it would be easy, but he did in fact have a basic obligation to make sure Annabeth was receiving care from SOMEONE. That's basic decency as an adult with some form of power over a child even if he DIDN'T want to be her father.
But his refusal to actually commit to either path just did MORE damage in the long run.
And he's free to try and make amends, I guess. People can change.
But I just don't feel there's enough to show that he really has long term, much less to give ANNABETH reason to believe he has.
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
I had contemplated doing this post for awhile , because quite frankly I wasn't sure what I was trying to accomplish and even now I am not sure what my goal is. I just know that I don't want to scream into the void . I want to be heard.
Some of you might be aware of one of the most recent tw confession blogs . In one of their more recent posts a very interesting discussion occurred.
One of my mutuals pointed out a collection of fics that are labelled as "101 ways to kill Scott McCall". At first I didn't even notice this , because idk. Maybe I just glazed over it , however when more people began interacting with the publication I SAW IT and I just had to check for myself .
One of said fics is called "Kill-a-Character Bingo - Scott McCall" which is a fanfiction of 26 chapters in which Scott is killed in various grotesque and humiliating ways.This is one of the chapters:
Outside of feeling gross , disillusioned and honestly sick to my stomach , I was also beyond perplexed . It is one thing to dislike a character . To be so annoyed by them that you just want them gone by any means necessary . I can even understand killing them in your own fic as a "treat" . I can't say I am on board with that , but still I can put myself in your shoes...sort of. Writing a fanfiction in which your main focus is a character you loathe , on the other hand, is ...confusing to say the least.
I can already hear some of you saying "It is not like I wrote this" and you are right , but what about the people supporting it .
115+ people apparently consider this good , entertaining . Gave the "author" their silent encouragement to keep going .
To be fair this fic is from the end of 2023 so the kudos are not that much so let's look at their most recent work with the "Dead Scott McCall" tag -"Compare" which was written at the beginning of February 2024
Over 100 kudos in the span of 3 months . Not too shabby for ao3.How much is too much ? How much longer can you use the "just a few rotten apples" argument?
If you are wondering how Scott's life ends in this story , one of the readers was more than happy to inform us.
I am going to avoid name-calling ,okay. I know that realistically not all of you are like this (thank god). I just want to ask. Do you think this is healthy? Do you think that is a fulfilling way for someone to spend their free time? Are you going to be comfortable being near this person and their fans knowing this is one of their "hobbies"? I don't know about you , but I would definitely be keeping my distance.
Again, I have no clue what is the point of this . I don't want you to attack the user . They would most likely just double down on doing what they know best . Maybe some of you would understand why people from my side of the fandom are so willing to accuse you of certain things instead of getting butthurt . Though that is most likely also asking for too much.
#sterek#steter#peter hale#derek hale#stiles stilinski#it just sucks man#you go on the internet#to decompress and distance yourself from the stressors in your life by engaging with your favorite shows#and then you force yourself to confront the fact that some people consider writing/reading horrible#repulsing scenarios for one of your comfort characters as fun#I guess I am a masochist cuz now I am poking where I know I will find trouble#sigh#I am shutting up now#otherwise I won't stop. I will deal with the conseqences later#scott mccall#get behind me#scott mccall defense squad#pro scott mccall#also I won't hide the profiles#I don't think they deserve that dignity
79 notes
·
View notes
Note
AETHERRRRR. MY BELOVED. HIIII 'TIS I, ENIES LOBBY ANON!!!! :DDDDDDD (also I love hanahaki au fic, I know I said that already, but I just wanted to let you know again)
Came with another request!!! And surprisingly, it's not Robin, even though I love her sm. Feel free to take your time with this one, really, no need to rush! I know you said in your latest post that you haven't gotten the chance to write zoro a lot, so I'll request one for you :))). Also, I don't feel like emotionally wrecking myself, so no angst again, sadly.
Zoro x Reader, where Reader has a crush on Zoro and Reader does a bunch of secret little things for Zoro when she thinks he doesn't notice (like putting a blanket on him when he falls asleep, propping his head with a pillow, slipping the occasional sake bottle next to him, placing a glass of water besides his stuff while he exercises, etc). And I think that Zoro would find out about it but would want to see it for himself, so one day he catches Reader trying to do a secret act of service and it kinda leads into Reader confessing her feelings to Zoro? Anyways, I kinda love Zoro, if you couldn't tell. (but Robin will always be my wife. Unless you're willing to share lol.)
Anyways that was the request, take it or not, this is more for you than me and I just had an idea pop in my head. Thank you in advance!! Again, reminders that I love you and your work and blog are awesome!! :))))))
-Enies Lobby anon :DDD
hello eneis lobby anon!!! robin will always be my wife too 😁 (you can have her during summers)
forethoughts: i just came back from camp!!! i'm so exhausted and my muscles are in pain :,). oh well, life goes on. gonna start writing requests soon. feel free to request if you wish!
notes: gn!reader
From the moment you stepped on board the Sunny as the newest crew member, the sight of the green haired swordsman taking a small nap on deck or working out was enough to make your heart beat and palms getting sweaty.
Roronoa Zoro, the right hand man of the future King of the Pirates, the man who could wield three swords at the same time, and the man who always fell asleep on deck. You were swooned by his camaraderie and bravery in a fight, attracted to those muscles on his arms and back, and even on his legs because he never skipped leg day.
It was safe to say you were completely in love with him, and would do anything to keep him safe and sound.
You knew it was a one in a billion chance that Zoro would even like someone like you, but you didn’t want to simply stay on the side and watch Zoro shift uncomfortably on the wooden planks or shiver from the cold of the night.
Whenever you caught Zoro asleep leaning against the mast, you would put a weighted blanket on his body and a pillow behind his head.
When Zoro was going into the galley for lunch or dinner, you’d occasionally slip a bottle of sake into his hands like magic, to the point you made Zoro believe if he had the power to summon sake bottles.
Whenever Zoro announced he was going to lock himself in the gym until he was done working out, you’d sneak into his sanctuary and place two glasses of water on the floor, extra towels, some fruits and snacks, and a protein drink.
You did all of that as quiet and stealthily as you could, doing it whenever the rest of the Straw Hats weren’t looking. Zoro never noticed your actions; he was asleep after all. Or, that’s what you thought.
One day, as you were about to put the blanket on Zoro, you felt a gaze upon you; someone was looking at you doing this. You looked up at Zoro, and let out a yelp, the stone cold gaze of the swordsman boring into your eyes.
“So you’re the one doing this.” Zoro stated matter-of-factly with a monotone voice.
You recomposed yourself, hiding the pillow behind your back, but it was probably useless since the swordsman probably knew.
“I’m going to guess I’m not really magic, then? I can’t summon sake whenever I want?”
You stayed silent, looking at your shoes.
“Why are you doing all of this?”
You took a deep breath, as the bottle of emotions you had cramped inside your heart began to flood out. You ranted to Zoro about your feelings about him, that you were scared that he wouldn’t ever like you back and that you were out of his league. So you had resorted to doing tiny acts of service to channel and express your feelings. You kept talking, not once stopping for breath.
Once you finally stopped, you looked at Zoro, waiting for a reply.
“Well, you could’ve just said so next time.” Zoro scoffed, beckoning you to sit down next to him.
You did so, as Zoro pulled your body closer to him, pushing your head against his shoulder. He didn’t say anything after that, and you didn’t dare move. So you stayed there, head leaning on his shoulder as the two of you fell asleep.
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rain kiss
I highly recommend this series. A shame it was cancelled.
Synopsis: Descamps is in love but doesn't know how to show it.
Warnings: Smoking (DO NOT SMOKE), kissing, bullying, enemies to lovers.
Studying with boys was disturbing to say the least. The touches, the looks, the smells. Everything was disgusting and irritating, I had asked my mother a million times to change schools, but I had to settle for her big merciless no. I couldn't stand Descamps chasing me everywhere with his gang of idiots.
I was sitting on the patio floor, with a sketchbook between my legs. Annick, one of my few friends, was studying. After two math classes in a row, it was necessary for my sanity to rest my mind, even though I constantly cast lascivious glances at Descamps, with that eye patch that strangely enhanced his beauty. Few of the times I looked, he was already looking, definitely plotting something.
He could only have a problem with me, always placing his foot so that I would trip, throwing eggs in my hair, disappearing with my backpack. Since the day I arrived, I have been tormented by this half-assed pirate.
— You should stop looking at him like you want to kill him. — Annick said, poking me.
— I'm not looking at him, just observing the place. And, as it happens, he is in front. — I went back to focusing on my doodles.
Annick shrugged and let out a nasal laugh. And then the bell rings. I get up from the floor and let the notebook fall, the single pages come loose and scatter across the floor. As I pick up each one, someone steps on one of my drawings.
Excuse me? — I say gently. I look up and… —Joseph Descamps. — I wrinkled my nose.
— You should already be in the classroom.
— Take your filthy shoe off my drawing. — I rolled my eyes.
– Of course. — He tramples the sheet even more, tearing it. - Satisfied?
I take a deep breath and start to go to the living room. How could he be so handsome but so irritating?
— You know, something cute, like you should smile more, instead of looking at me like a complete crazy person. — He puts his arm around my shoulders.
I give him a light push, and quicken my step into the living room. But he accompanied me. I stopped in the middle in front of the room door, which was already closed. I closed my eyes at him, who had that mischievous smile. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and said:
— What's your problem with me? — I sighed.
— I have no problem with you. — He took a step forward.
Descamps was much taller than me, I had to raise my head to be able to face him boldly.
— So why do you make me so unhappy? — I put my bangs to the side nervous about the proximity.
He laughed, bending down a little to get closer to me. I turned around, a little scared, and opened the door, asked the teacher for permission and sat down. Joseph entered shortly afterwards with the same apathetic face and sat down. Sometimes I looked away from the board to watch him, even without wanting to, it was like a mania that I couldn't avoid.
When it was time to leave, I took my mobile and headed home. My mother and father had left and left a note on the table that said:
“Go to the butcher and buy some ham and then buy two packs of cigarettes, we will be late”
I rolled my eyes, as always, arriving late. At least I had the whole house to myself. A silent house just for me. I made some bread, jam and threw myself on the sofa, the only noise was from the street. I didn't want to admit how bored I was when I was with or without my parents at home. In the end, it was the same. I wanted to go to my aunt Janine's house, where I have my cousins.
I got ready to leave the house. I went to the butcher's shop, being careful not to fall into Jean-Pierre, after the dump I gave him, I preferred to keep my distance so as not to hurt him even more. As I walked to the nearest tobacconist, I saw Joseph sitting on the sidewalk smoking, I walked right past him, hoping he would let me pass.
— Did your parents never teach you that it was rude to ignore people you know? — He grabbed my shoulder.
— I don't have time for your nonsense, Descamps. — I snorted.
— I'm not doing anything, idiot. — Laughed. — Where are you going anyway?
— It's none of your business.
— Oh, come on, can you be good just once?
— What do you want, anyway? — I rolled my eyes.
— May you be good to me just once. — He raised his eyebrows. — So, is it going to happen or not?
I frowned all over my face as if my mind was simulating what was happening, firstly that his tone was light and somewhat cheerful, and his features light and not heavy and frowning as always. I considered that I was living a hallucination.
It's OK…
— I need to buy cigarettes too. — He smiled. — Shall we?
I walked with him in silence to the nearest tobacconist.
— Do you know that there are already studies that prove that cigarettes are very harmful, due to the tobacco and toxins…
I was interrupted by his laugh. It was beautiful.
— Don't try to act like a doctor now.
— I'm not acting like a doctor. — I let out a nasal laugh. — Just pointing out that your lungs will be rotten by the time you reach 25.
— Well, I still have a few glory years left, then. — He pointed to one of the tobacco shops on the street. — That's the best, I'll go buy it for you and be right back.
I didn't even have time to respond and he had already crossed the street. I spent the entire time waiting wondering why he was being so nice to me. If that was just another pretext for another one of his dull jokes.
— Don't you think it's a little dangerous to be on the street alone at a time like this? — Jean-Pierre's familiar voice made me laugh internally.
I looked back and it was him, smoking, of course, and a little tipsy from the smell of the drink.
— It's still late, there's no danger.
He smiled, inhaling once more and blowing the smoke away from my face.
— Any reason to stand around looking at the tobacconists? I thought you hated cigarettes.
— I came to buy for my parents. - Deep down, I thought it was cute that he remembered that.
I looked at the store. Joseph was crossing the street.
— See you later, Jean. — He smiled a little awkwardly.
— Purchased cigarettes, give my favorite brand. I think your parents will like it as much as I do…
Descamps stopped to look at Jean. They both looked at each other confused, I sat between two bulls about to attack each other.
—What are you doing here? Jean asked.
— Accompanying my classmate. And what are you doing here?
— She doesn't need the company of an idiot like you.
— Jean! — I snorted. —Stop talking for me.
He looked at me a little confused about the situation, after all it was every day that someone defended Descamps.
— Are you going to tell me that you are now his friend? — Jean raged.
I rolled my eyes, men were so complicated sometimes.
— I didn't say I was his friend, I just said to stop saying things for me.
— It's not my fault for being the favorite. — Joseph said sarcastically. —Now, Pierre, if you'll excuse me, I have to escort a beautiful lady home.
Jean was about to say something again, but he just turned his back and walked away. At that moment, the sky was already night. I looked at Descamps who once again had that mocking smile.
-What it was? — I asked while fixing my hair.
— Nothing. — Laughed. — Come on, it's getting late and it's dangerous for a woman to walk alone at these hours.
— I think it's dangerous at any time of the day. — I murmured.
We were laughing and commenting on some of the school's achievements. But he had a flea behind his ear, where had all that kindness come from? And suddenly I felt scared.
— Why are you acting like this? — I asked in front of the door of my house.
-Like this?
— You know very well what I'm talking about. — A few drops of rain began to fall. — Being nice to me, why are you doing this?
— Would you prefer me to be rude? Fine by me. — He shrugged.
— That's not what I said. I just want to know the reason for your drastic change.
— When I hurt my eye, even though I did something bad, you went with me to the infirmary and stayed there. Even when I cursed you and told you to leave me alone, why did you do that?
— I'm the daughter of two doctors, it's almost in my blood to help someone who is going through a difficult time. — He laughed, putting a strand of hair behind his ear. — Even so, after that, you put animals in my bag, cut off a piece of my hair, among other things.
An awkward silence ensued, then he smiled, shaking his head down and muttered something incomprehensible.
—What did you say?
The rain began to fall heavily. Descamps took a step closer, bending down until our noses touched.
-I said. I'm sorry, I'm not good at showing my feelings. —He grabbed my chin.
We were starting to get soaked, our lips touched. A sweet and strange kiss. I quickly pushed him away, a little confused.
— Good evening, Descamps. — She said embarrassed.
He immediately opened his eyes wide to say something, but I was smarter and entered my house. Leaving my purchases with him.
Leaning against the door, I smiled and covered my mouth as punishment for smiling, even though deep down I liked it, he was a jerk this whole time. How could I know if this wasn't just another one of his lame jokes?
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
"The Son of A Monster." Valentines Special. MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS
Masterlist
Carl Grimes / Male Reader.
I breathe in the air. It's fresh as the apples, and brisk as the wind blows by. “Daddy.” Huffed a small child, standing next to his twin. Identical. The boy stomped his foot and crossed his arms, cute and angry, while his brother stood quietly with flowers in his hand.
“What,” I said, with the same whining as I picked flowers in a field, near home. The morning was fresh, and yet to fully rise when we had begun to pick. I planned this all the night before, perfectly to where it did not interfere with schedules. A day off from riding to Alexandria to get kids to school, and farming hadn’t started till noon.
“Don’t wanna do this! It's boring.” The boy, Isahe, said, stomping his foot once again. I raised an eyebrow, looking at the flowers he had in hand before bending down.
“Now, now. You know the rules, you only use that voice when…?” I waited for the answer, looking at the angry boy.
He rolled his eyes slightly. “When I see someone or something that can put me in danger.” He repeated. Something I had taught regularly, and classes taught. Growing up in a world like this is absolute hell. I smile at Isahe, ruffling his hair and kissing his forehead.
“You know why we're doin’ this. Pa will be sad he didn’t get any flowers from one of his favorite boys.” I pinch his cheek, his expression changes as he considers this. “I don’t think he’d want flowers from just Daddy and Rome,” I stated, pushing his hair out of his face. He hummed and pushed my arm away as Rome showed me the flowers he had picked.
I wave the carriage off as the two twins smile and they leave off the road. Two gunmen with them, trusted men of course. I sighed as I unlocked the wall and secured it behind me. A house stood tall, with a porch with garden supplies. A garden with a wired fence stood at the side and toys were scattered around. I unlocked the front door, carrying a basket with food and flowers, and walked inside, making sure to lock the door behind me. The home was quiet as I set down the basket. I uncovered the living room windows and opened the curtains, allowing natural light to pass through.
I left into the kitchen before grabbing a knife, cutting board, bowls, and a pan. Days like these weren’t really celebrated. Not that this day mattered to most starving and scared people. But how I was living now? I wanted it to last, and have the kids with a childhood and imagination that goes on for miles. I collected books, comics, and children's books for the small library in a spare room. The house was two-story, with a thick stone wall surrounding it. The wall had plenty to keep us safe. Cameras, trip wires, traps, anything to keep something bad out. Anything to keep them safe. The garden was big enough to preserve food for winter, and still eat in the summer and spring. The fence kept rabbits, mice, or anything that could fly out.
We had a shed in the back of the house that looked like an old gardening shed but could be turned into a weapon shed in a matter of seconds. The doors in the house had been made to keep things in or out if locked. I didn’t want anything bad to happen, and if anything went wrong, I had a plan to make sure it wouldn’t
I sighed, closing my eyes after cutting the food and placing it into bowls. I grabbed an extra bowl and grabbed some eggs from the refrigerator. Trade was a good thing in handy.
I could smell the egg drafting around the house as I started making an omelet, which turned out good. The green pepper, tomato, and onion made the food blow with taste as I placed it on a plate and poured fresh lemonade. The food and drinks were placed on a board and I slowly carried it to the top of the stairs and opened a door with the push of my foot. I sat down on the board on a nightstand and took off my shoes and jeans before pushing back the duvet and, carefully, making myself comfortable.
I look at the sleeping man beside me. His hair covered his face and his back turned to me. I lean down and kiss his bare shoulder before pushing his hair away. His eyepatch lay on the nightstand, leaving his scar to show as I kiss behind his ear and wrap my arms around him.
I hear him groan as He pushes his head to the side and deeper into his pillow. “Hey,” I said, rubbing his bare chest as I rested my forehead on his shoulder. I heard him hum as He stretched his legs and arms. ‘Kids are gone, Aaron picked them up.” I whispered, kissing his back. He hummed again and whined as he stretched his back and turned. I took my forehead off of his shoulder, feeling him turning in my arms.
“What time is it?” He asked, now looking at me. I could see the tiredness in his eyes.
“Doesn’t matter. We don’t gotta go until late noon.” I said, pushing my hand through his hair. It needed another trim, but it was fine. “Hairs getting long again. Gonna keep it like old times, or cut it again?” I said, playing with a strand. He shrugs, his eye shutting again as he licked his lips. “Hungry?” I whisper and he nods slightly. I smile and lift myself up. “Good, 'cause’ I brought you some food to eat,” I said as he stretched again and sat up on his elbows.
“What... why?” He asks, rubbing his eyes, and starting to wake up. I smile and look at him.
“The kid picked you some flowers, though he didn’t want to,” I say, I hear him laugh as I place the board on his lap. “Happy Valentine's Day.”
#carl grimes#carl grimes x male reader#negan#the walking dead#twd#twd x reader#twd x you#male reader#carl grimes x reader#negans son
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ricochet
“I’m sorry.”
Andrea truly doesn’t want to hurt Lena. She never has.
But this conversation is already nine months overdue. Well, nine months, plus three years. And if she’s doesn’t take advantage of this adrenaline high, she’s not sure when she’ll get the nerve back.
“For how I left.”
The way Lena tenses and crosses her arms tighter around herself tells Andrea she doesn’t have to elaborate.
“It’s fine. It’s not your fault I threw myself at you. And I’m the one who ran first.”
Well, yes, and Andrea obviously does not regret not kissing a 14-year-old back a few days before she left for college.
“I couldn’t give you what you wanted. But I… I could’ve give you closure.”
Lena scoffs.
“I would never have let you.”
Andrea thought so too — it’s how she eventually convinced herself that ghosting her only real friend from boarding school had been for the best.
It’s only occurred to her over the past few months that that was never the point.
“You would’ve known that I’d tried.”
***
Lena had really thought (cringey as it was) that she might actually cry if they won ICCA’s. If she played a part in making Kara’s dream since her freshman year come true.
Only Lena hadn’t really caught on that doing so had become her dream somewhere along the way. And, well, with her track record of dreams coming true…
Unfortunately, turns out that disassociating over placing first in a fucking a cappella competition is far more mortifying than tearing up.
Especially in front of someone like Kara. Not that there is someone else like her.
So she’s supposes she should be rather grateful to her team captain for bringing her back to reality… by bringing up her most mortifying experience of all time.
Of course, crying over your childhood crush saying sorry for not like you back is also quite cringey. But Lena’s dignity has lost sight of the shoreline at this point.
“So, yeah, that - that’s what I wanted to say. In case, being a complete bitch to you since August hasn’t been a sufficient apology.”
On the one hand, Lena is surprised by the genuine laugh that bursts out of her amidst the tears. On the other hand, Andrea is the only person who’s ever rivaled Lena’s dry sense of humor.
“I know it’s not an excuse, but… it was easier than worrying about disappointing you again.”
Already nodding along, ready to wrap this up, Lena freezes when she actually process what Andrea said.
“What?”
At the time, she’d been so blinded by hurt and shame for letting herself dream she ever stood a chance that she’d never even tried to put herself in her ex-best friend’s shoes.
It didn’t occur to her until she was actually getting ready for college herself that she had no idea what she’d do if a 14-year-old girl kissed her out of the blue and said she was in love with her.
Not that that was a remote possibility, Lena having sworn off friendship after convincing herself that Andrea had never given a shit about her.
Trying to convice herself, that is. Because she knew deep down that it was a lie. And that was the most excruciating part.
Still, knowing teenage Andrea had cared about her in some form… Well, Lena hadn’t just run into her at the Activies Fair three years later — very alarmed because it was not school Andrea had left for that summer — and assumed…
“I could never get your face out of my head.”
Humiliating, Lena feels herself blush, full well knowing Andrea didn’t mean it like that, and scratches at her wet cheeks as cover.
“No matter what Lex and your mother did, you - you wouldn’t cry. And I was always relieved.”
Oh? Lena’s not really sure what to say to that. But what really catches her off-guard is the sudden rasp in Andrea’s voice. And when she finally looks at the older girl for the first time since she joined her out here in the parking lot, she finds her swallowing harshly.
“Because I knew how to distract you. I was good at it.”
Andrea meets her gaze with an even more jarring attempt at a smile.
“But in the end, it was me.”
Andrea turns fully away then, her back to Lena, so all she can see is the hand running stiltedly through dark hair still pulled into a bun.
“I made you cry.”
Lena doesn’t need to see her face, though.
***
Precariously carrying five cups of steaming hot tea in her bare hands — every kind available; you’d think a singing competition would have a more robust selection?! — Kara considers it quite an accomplishment that she doesn’t immediately give herself third-degree burns when she finally finds the freshman in the parking lot.
Successfully placing them all down on the pavement doesn’t prove to be much easier, but Kara isn’t willing to tempt fate when she’s so preoccupied with the scene in front of her.
Kara does consider her fellow senior a friend, but more in the way she considers a lot of acquaintances her friends. And, frankly, her treatment of Lena has driven a wedge between them that Kara’s doesn’t know if she’s all that interested in dislodging.
Sure, Kara had eventually convinced her that Lena is the team’s future, literally.
The reason they’d used the same repertoire for years was because no one knew how to arrange new material. Nothing better than what they already had at least.
Andrea had never admitted their severely lacking musicianship, of course. So Kara had done it for her… after not defending Lena when she’d previously had the chance.
The point is Kara’s friendship with Lena “it’s just math” Luthor is her priority. She can live with never speaking to Andrea again after graduation. The thought of anything changing between her and Lena after graduation has been making her nauseous for weeks.
“So… Kara?”
Kara doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, she swears. Honestly, she’d kind of expected them to pick up on her presence whether she dropped the cups or not. But it seems the pair is still in their own little bubble, Andrea demurely wiping her face while pulling back from the embrace. Lena keeps her close, though, loosely holding her elbows.
“Kara?”
“I know, Lena.”
“Know what?”
Kara definitely should’ve turned around by now. She’s hardly in a position to get self-righteous about secrets when she has yet to tell her best friend that she won’t be leaving campus, after all.
Staying on for a Master’s in Journalism hadn’t been her plan even back in the fall. But a lot has happened between now and then, so.
Andrea sighs with none of her characteristic exasperation.
“I knew you had feelings for me before you kissed me.”
Kara is positive the only reason she doesn’t audibly gasp is because she’s too shocked. Well, that and Lena scoffs loudly as she takes a step back.
She’d figured that Lena and Andrea had a history, per se. But her mind had never gone… there.
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did.”
“You didn’t act like it.”
“How was I supposed to act?”
In four years, Kara has never heard Andrea speak so gently, without even a hint of condescension to boot.
Lena’s more choked scoff seems to suggest she’s not used to it either… and that Kara is probably missing something.
“You don’t have to believe me. And if you want to tell me I’m wrong about Kara, go ahead.”
Yeah, she’s definitely missing something.
“But… if you want to tell me I’m right, I certainly wouldn’t discourage that either.”
Lena’s chuckles in that beautifully thick way she does when Kara gushes over one of her mash-ups profusely enough.
“Fuck you.”
“Still too young for this ride, sweetie. Sorry.”
Kara can’t help her eye roll at Andrea gesturing at her own body like it’s a letter on Wheel of Fortune. But then Andrea frowns, which makes slightly more sense when Kara hears Lena’s abruptly dejected tone.
“It’s the same.”
“What is?”
“You - you and me. Me and Kara. It’s the same age gap.”
“Yes, but I’ve known you since you were a baby.”
“Seven.”
Even as her mind races — scrambling for the missing context — Kara can still hear Lena’s scowl clear as day. Andrea waves dismissively.
“Same difference.”
But then she takes a step forward, her arms hovering pretty awkwardly for someone who was just clinging to Lena a minute ago before she settles them on Lena’s shoulders.
“You jump. I jump. Okay?”
Kara recognizes the quote instantly, but it doesn’t clear anything up for her. Other than it means something to Lena, judging by the way she loops her arm through Andrea’s and leisurely leads them further out into the parking lot.
So they’re thankfully well out of earshot by the time Kara accidentally kicks over all the cups.
#supercorp#supergirl#supergirl fanfiction#supergirl fic#supercorp fanfic#supercorp fic#supercorp ficlet#rojascorp#lena luthor#kara danvers#andrea rojas#pitch perfect au
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
War on the Mists :Author April #2
(This was another novel I was working on. The characters are ones I have used before and would love to use again. Heloise is one of my favorite OC I've ever created, and she's stayed with me forever. I was also super-duper into Revolutionary Girl Utena at the time. Anyways, this was my take on the Arthurian legends. There is a lot more to this if you all want to see the rest.)
Chapter One:
Just beyond the gates of Cleatom Academy is a wide polished stone with a slit in it’s center. It sits in the center of a wide, shallow pond. Water pours continuously from the slit, filling the pond and creating a simplistic work of art for all those you come to the school to see. The students referred to it as Stone Lake.
I had seen Stone Lake first through a brochure that I had come across when I had finally convinced my father to take me off home schooling. It took some hard work and heavy screaming to convince him to let me attend Cleatom. But I already knew all about Cleatom Academy. It is an academy was for the children of powerful people, people like my father. It was a place to turn the children of said people into equally powerful people, the kind of person I was afraid of becoming. Despite my dislike of the place and it’s populace I am looking forward to the transfer. There was a reason I had been needling my father for years about Cleatom. Not only is it a boarding school, which meant I would be able to breathe, I’d be out from my father’s oppressive, suffocating house. But there was something much more. Something I had been fighting for since I was a child. I would be able to see my brother Ty. The most beloved person in my life and someone who has been kept too far out of reach from me for too long.
The moment I was dropped off at Cleatom, I couldn’t help but smile as my father’s limousine pulled away from the boarding house. I laughed out loud even as I stood in the center of my room. I wasn’t even mad when they told me I’d have a roommate within a few days. Please, I begged the air, let it be someone normal! I didn’t have much time to celebrate though, as I wanted to get some sleep for school. But when my mind keep whirring and clicking, thinking about Ty and how I’d get to see him everyday. I just couldn’t turn off completely. I got up extremely early the next morning, the light outside gray and fog as far as the eye could see. I got into my school uniform, a white blouse with a form fitting black vest over the top of it and then a gray plaid skirt. There was also a silvery gray tie and the school’s emblem emblazoned as a pin at my throat. I got to wear whatever shoes and accessories I wanted the head master had explained to me like it mattered. For me, clothes were just the armor I put on for my father and the people he surrounds himself with. Since that was no longer necessary for my defense, I had my attendant back home help me order a pair of high top sneakers in my favorite color, red. I also bought for myself an assortment of odd and colorful knee socks. I was only ever allowed to wear tights or hose before.
Then put on my sneakers for the first time. I never knew comfort like this. I then slipped on the beaded bracelet Angie, my attendant, made for me and went out the door.
The hall was quiet and I heard no activity from the other rooms. But as I began descending the stairs I came across several girls who I assumed to be the attendants of the girls in the dorm. They seemed surprised to see me on the stairs, or just even there. I now wish I had allowed Angie to come with me, but I’m glad she’s getting some respite. Maybe I’ll call her here next semester.
I walk outside, shrouded in mist and cool damp air. I walk through the garden that surrounds the girl dormitories. They have all sorts of plants growing, its very beautiful in the light. Several classes have the students raise and cultivate their own plants. I made sure to sign up for one. I stop just before the gate leading out of the dormitory village and walk off towards the herb patch. The ground is freshly upturned and sprouts are peeking out all over. I think of the little clay pot that sat on my balcony. Angie and I began it when I was twelve. I’m sure she took it home with her to take care of it. At least I hope she did.
I look up, fairly sure I sensed a presence around me. I saw the swaying of the willow trees branches, but nothing else. I stood, looking forward, knowing I could feel eyes on me from somewhere in the mists. I take a cold breath. My lungs freezing as I turn and unlock the gate into the cobble stone path leading to the school.
Stone Lake was much smaller than I pictured. Then again, compared to the castle the school had been built into, everything looked smaller. The stone rested slightly above me. And the small shallow pond wasn’t even deep enough to hold fish. By the time I had come to the pond and sat for a moment students were arriving, not just from the dormitory village but in limos and cars coming through the front gates like I had yesterday. I watched as these cars pulled up at the doors, letting out their pristine cargo. I watched my new classmates. I watched for Ty.
I then heard laughing from around the other side of the stone and when I leaned out slightly I saw a group of girls walking away. All laughing and tossing their hair. It was a victory lap for them. I walked around to see what was so funny and saw a girl sitting in the water, her head down low.
I went towards the girl, standing up on the rocks to get level with her. “Are you alright?” I held my hand out towards her.
The girl looked up, her berry red hair plastered to her face. Her eyes were wide and gold, peering out frightened behind strands of shining hair. I tilted myself down towards her.
“Did they push you in here?” I held my hand out to the girl again.
The girl opened her mouth then closed it, lowering her head and began shuffling her hands through the water. I stepped up onto the platform and kneeled down beside the girl. “Did you loose something?”
“My glasses,” the girl murmured.
I began looking around too. “What do they look like?” I was feeling about the water beside her.
“Silver, with pearl accents.” The girl said.
I looked down to her left and saw the glasses hanging on a shrub. I picked them up and cleaned them with my sleeve. Smiling, I extended them to her. “Here.”
The girl quickly took then and placed them on her face. She looked up at me and nodded, pressing her lips firmly together. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” I replied. “Are you ok? Do you need me to help take you back to the dormitories?”
The girl stood up and smoothed her hand down utterly soaked skirt.
“You must be freezing.” I moved to remove my coat and the girl began stepping out of the water, moving quickly away from me.
“No, I’m fine, thank you.” She picked up her bag from the ground. “You’re an Emerald, you shouldn’t have to.”
I touched the jeweled bauble on my throat, attached to the top of the school uniform tie. It was the school emblem, but encrusted with emeralds. “What do you mean?” I followed after her.
The girl lifted her chin, touching her tie pin. Instead of emerald, her pin was pearl. I arched my brow at this, thinking that all the pins would be the same. “I’m a Pearl,” the girl continued. “And you are an Emerald.”
“I’m sorry,” I was shaking my head. “But I’m new here. I’m not sure what you mean.”
The girl pulled her wet hair and placed it in a heavy bundle on her shoulder. “I am beneath you.” She said simply and walked away. I wanted to follow after her but I had a feeling she‘d be even more humiliated if I did. I decided instead it would be best to find Ty.
Cleatom Academy had been built into and expanded from a castle made of white stone. I’m sure all the students felt even more superior because of this. True royalty! I walked up the ramp into the doors and into the commons area. It was like the food court in a mall. There was a coffee bar, a cupcake place, many tables and chairs as well as several large overly stuffed sofas and recliners. It certainly didn’t look like an antiquated castle.
“Good morning Cleatom!” A voice sang from the speaker system. “It’s another lovely day and I have just a few announcements before we all go to home room. We have three new students joining us today. Gregory W. Mansfield, Diamond. Heloise E. Boniface, Emerald. And Samantha B.D. Lewis, Ruby. Let’s be sure to greet them warmly!” I did not like the sound of my voice being introduced. “Students with birthdays today make sure to make your way to Sweetie Belle Cupcakes today for your complementary birthday cupcake. Today’s special is a chocolate, strawberry glace cupcake with an extra large chocolate covered strawberry on top. Yum!” I also didn’t like how scripted the yum bit sounded.
I walked around a gaggle of girls heading for the cupcake shop then and began zigzagging my way through the tables and chairs. “Also, would Heloise Boniface report to the sound booth.” The over head voice said.
I froze, what did they want with me?
“You can find your way there by heading to the glass elevator and pressing the button labeled SB3.” The voice continued with it’s wide awake voice. “You are in for a surprise.”
As I made my way to the elevator I knew I was the topic of the hour. Most heads turned and looked my way. Girls bent to whisper into ears, their eyes trailing me. Luckily the elevator was unoccupied when I entered. I pressed the button, a shiny chrome one with the letters and numerals illuminated behind it. Once the button was pressed the lettering flashed bright green. I was jostled for a moment as the elevator sprang to life, pulling me up above the crowd and through the levels of the castle until I reached the third floor.
The elevator opened up into a dimly lit room full of dark furniture. Beyond this I saw a huge white room behind glass brightly lit and glowing compared to the room before it. There someone inside talking into an old fashioned microphone and working a control panel of buttons. He removed the headphones he was wearing and pressed a button. Behind me, I could hear music playing in the elevator.
The man inside came out of the white room, running his fingers through his brick red hair. “It’s been a while.” The voice from the announcements said.
I furrowed my brow at him. “Excuse me?”
He turned on a light, illuminating the dark room. “Surely, you remember me a little.”
I stared, recognizing the freckled face, the deep brown eyes. Mainly the toothy smile. “Ty!” I flung my bag aside and ran into his open arms. I noticed that Ty’s pin was ruby.
“I’ve been waiting on you forever.” Ty said, stroking my hair. He stepped back, bracing his hands on my shoulders. “You haven’t grown an inch!”
I scowled at him. My height had always been an issue with my father and a joke with some of the staff. “Some heart warming greeting.” I brushed his hand away and began pacing the room slowly. “What is this?”
“The sound booth where I make all the announcements.” Ty said, following behind me. Mimicking my posture and how I held my hands behind my back. “Normally I have groupies, but I chased them off so I could have you by myself.”
“How kind.” Rolling my eyes, I smile. “Why do they let you make the announcements?”
“I’m the House Speaker,” Ty replied. “I’m an elected official.” He mocked snapping suspenders.
I turned towards him, raising my eyebrows. “Elected?”
“Student government,” Ty said, putting his hands on his hips and cocked his head to the side. “I’m a pretty powerful person around here.”
“I bet Mrs. Jerrick is so proud.” I sniffed.
Ty laughed. “Of course not. Not when my sister is the VP!”
I looked back at him. He was talking about his half sister Cordelia Jerrick. Poor Ty was born between worlds. The bastard love child of my father and Mrs. Jerrick a world renowned business woman of the cosmetics industry. “So, are you meeting me illegally then?” I looked back towards the elevator doors then, just expecting Cordelia Jerrick to burst forth with soldiers, ordering I be tar and feathered.
“I made the announcement over the intercom, she would have been here by now if that was the case.” Ty replied, a smile in his voice. “She knows she has no control over me here.” He then reached out, taking my pin gently between his fingers. “Lucky you. You’re an Emerald.”
“I don’t get that.” I tap the expensive bauble on my throat. “What do these pins mean?” I had thought my father had simply chosen the Emerald because it was the most expensive.
Ty sighed, leaning back against the wall. “This school has a sort of…caste system.” My eyes widened at this. “It goes all the way from the working class students who serve the higher students, up to the most elite.”
He explained it all to me starting with amber, said working class. Most Amber students are actually the staff of the higher up students. That explained the maids I saw this morning.
He went on to the Pearls, which are students who are children of teachers or have scholarships. The girl this morning was a Pearl. This probably also explains why she was the victim of those girls. She was beneath them, like she said.
Then there are the Diamonds, students who are at the top of their classes or students who have celebrity. He explained that even Pearl students who have worked their way up can become Diamonds.
Rubies, like Ty, are next and they are the children of people who have donated a large amount of money. “Bought students, we’re called.” Ty smirked, somewhat proudly.
Then there was my group the Emeralds. A good combination of Diamond and Ruby. Students whose parents have donated large sums of money. These students could have been Rubies at one point, but moved up the rank because of celebrity status, grades, and etc.
“Then there are the Sapphires, like Cordelia.” Ty hesitated for a moment, gauging my somewhat disturbed expression to it all. “Sapphires are the elites, those who have all of the above and then some.”
I cleared my throat after a moment of it sinking in. “How is she a sapphire when you’re just a ruby?”
Ty laughed “You forget, I’m a bastard.” He put his arm around my shoulder and began leading me out the door. “I had to be bought.” As we approached the elevator it dinged and the door swished open, revealing the young man inside.
“Just in time,” Ty looked at the young man. “Heloise, this is John Whitney,” I saw that the boy’s pin was diamond. “He is going to be your guide.”
“Oh?” I looked from Ty then at John. “That isn’t necessary.”
“I think you’ll find it will be,” John said, a gentle chuckle to his voice. “This place isn’t easy to navigate for a first timer. It’s code that the Student Government assign a guide to each new student for as long as they need them.”
I nodded. “Well then, if it’s mandatory…” I looked John over. He looked like he was a football player from his build. His purposefully tousled dark blonde hair, hiding a scar on his forehead just so. His eyes were the a sort of hazel and gold color. His teeth bleached white. But there was a crookedness to his tie I liked, showed he wasn’t perfect.
“I was chosen because all our classes match up.” John replied, extending his arm and allowing me to stand in the elevator. “The Student Government normally tries to match up girls with girls and such, but I was the only one who matched.”
“It’s quite alright.” I waved to Ty as the doors shut. “I get along better with boys anyways.”
“So,” John said, pushing a button for the fifth floor, “what school did you go to before Cleatom?”
“I was home schooled actually. Well,” I set my bag at my feet. “My father hired tutors.”
John bobbed his head politely. “So what made him send you here?” He looked me over then, knowing Ty couldn’t see his eyes wander. “Excuse me if I’m being a pest.” His eyes immediately snap to my eyes.
I smiled, still looking forward. “No, you’re fine. But, I asked to come here. I’ve been fighting my dad about for a long time.”
John furrowed his brow. “What made him change his mind?”
“My dad is a gambler,” I looked over at John and his raised eyebrows, “so I made him a bet.”
John looked surprised. “What kind of bet.”
I put my finger to my lips as the elevator doors whooshed open into a crowded hallway. I gently dipped to grab my bag and slung it back over my shoulder. John walked a good few paces behind me, like one of my father’s bodyguards.
Turning and looking at him I snapped, “what? Student Government doesn’t allow you to walk beside me?”
“Well,” John blushed. “You are an Emerald, Ms. Boniface.” I arched my brows high at the fact he had referred to me in such a way. “It is not normally-”
I took a step back, aligning myself with him. “It’s not a rule is it?”
“No,” John swallowed, looking around. “Just…tradition.”
I then snapped my fingers, surprising him again. “Oh, do you know a lot of the students here?”
John nodded, swallowing. I was making him nervous. “It’s part of my role in the Student Government.”
I slide my bag down into the crook of my elbow. “Do you know a girl with really, really bright red hair? Almost like a lip-gloss color?” I motioned with her hands the style of the girl’s hair. “Also, wears glasses,” I mimed glasses.
John smirked at my monkeying and thought for a moment. “Maybe that’s Den Anais.” He said. “Why do you ask? You know her?”
I shook my head, looking towards the floor. “No, I just saw some girls push her into the fountain out front this morning. I tried to help her but she brushed me off.”
He nodded, sighing somewhat sadly. “Then that must be Den.”
I must of looked disgusted because his eyes took on an apologetic look. “Does that happen to her a lot?”
John shrugged, opening a door for me. “Sometimes. But I don’t work in her department of the Student Government.”
I balked. “She’s in the Student Government?”
“Hand picked by Head Master Emrys. She’s the Advisor.” John shrugged. “She’s sort of like…a personal consultant. She plans all the school events and dances and the like.”
“You think with a role like that people would like her.” I mumbled as we walked into the classroom. History was my first class, a class the dean of admissions said I would enjoy.
“Oh welcome, you must be Heloise.” I looked up sideways as a man in a dark green suit approached. “I’m Professor Lourdes.” He held out a thin pale hand to me.
“Uhm, yes.” I took his hand, it was warm and smooth. “Thank you for letting me in. I had been told you were full up.”
Professor Lourdes smiled, removing his thin wire glasses. He was an exceptionally striking man, young and beautiful for a teacher. “History is a much more popular a field than I anticipated.”
Something about his smile though told me he knew it was because of his looks. “But I was more than happy to make a spot.” He waved his hand out. “Please, take a seat anywhere. I’m not picky.” He left, walking up to the white board and his desk.
John leaned to whisper to her. “His class is so popular because-”
“Because he’s so good looking?” I finished for him. “Easy to see now why history would be packed.”
We took our seats at a two chair table in the back. The seats were overstuffed rolling chairs. I had one just like it at home. Father had got it for me when I began complaining about my back during lessons.
“Ari is a good teacher though. He’s also the one who over sees the Student Government.” John explained quickly. “He gives a lot of extra credit and he takes us out on a lot of field trips. They’re mainly trips to museums mind you, but he makes the experience interesting.”
I found I couldn’t take my eyes off Professor Ari Lourdes. He was a lithe mover, and his handwriting was impeccable. “Put a long wig on him and he’d pass for a girl, he’s that pretty.”
John snorted. “I’ve actually heard several girls trying to convince him to do such a thing for the costume balls.”
We both exchanged smiles and then began taking out our text books and such.
My attention turned to Cordelia as she walked through the door at that moment. John continued talking, but I didn’t hear him.
Cordelia was tall and blonde, the kind of girl my father wishes I was. And she sauntered right over to Professor Ari’s desk and sat on its corner like she owned the place. She tousled her hair and laughed, slightly turning to see who was watching her, because she knew everyone was. That’s when her gray eyes fell on me. Her expression becoming instantly blank. Her eyes almost bleeding disgust.
John tugged on my sleeve. “Heloise?”
I didn’t move. “Yes?”
“Are you familiar with the Jerrick family?”
Cordelia was turning and whispering to Professor Ari. I looked at John then.
“I’m only close to Ty.”
John gave me a wary smile. “Cordelia certainly doesn’t seem happy to see you.”
I laughed. “That’s putting it gently.” I cupped my hand under my chin and looked at Professor Ari, trying his best to act genteel with Cordelia.
“She’s the vice president of the Student Government.” John whispered.
I scoffed, rapping my fingers against my jaw. “Now that, I did know.” I smiled back at John. He raised his brow. “She’s part of that bet I mentioned earlier.”
John raised his brows. “Oh?”
I laughed. “Oh, indeed!” I leaned closer to John. “I bet if I acted like I was flirting with you, Cordelia would swoop in and steal you away from me.”
John smiled somewhat deviously, his eyes glancing over to Cordelia and then back to me. “You’re that confidant in her evil, are you?”
I nodded. “If there is one thing I know about Cordelia Jerrick, it’s that she absolutely hates me.” I then reach out, adjusted John’s crooked tie, my fingers lingering ever so.
“Sorry about this.” I snicker.
“Oh please!” John laughs. “I don’t mind at all.”
I then reach up, playing with John’s bangs. “What’s she doing?”
John glances aside for me then looks back at me as I drop my hand. “You should be dead.”
We both burst out laughing, and in that moment Cordelia is standing beside me.
John blanches some, but I look up at her like it is the most casual thin in the world. I am more than prepared to deal with Cordelia Jerrick, in fact, its what I’ve been planning on.
“Why,” Cordelia gasps prettily but it sounds more like a war cry. “Heloise Boniface! What a splendid surprise.” She says splendid like it’s painful, like she’d rather wretch bile.
I nod softly. “Hello, Cordelia.”
Cordelia’s eyes flicker over to John then back to me. “I had no idea you’d be attending Cleatom.” She seems to be running out of nice things to say. “Is Whitney here your escort?”
I look over at John and smile charmingly, he blushes some. “Why yes! He’s a lovely boy, isn’t he?” I reach out, putting my hand over his. “I’m thinking about asking Daddy to hire him as my valet for the summer.”
Cordelia’s tongue to captured between her cinched teeth as she smiles. “Oh? Well how wonderful for you, Whitney.” She then squints her eyes at me in an attempt to smile, but it comes out all wrong. “I will have to talk to you later, Heloise.” She turns on her heel just as the bell rings.
“I feel sick.” John whispers to me.
I look at him apologetically. “I am so sorry.”
“I’ve never felt anything like that!” John chuckles, relieved. “I knew she could be something of a bitch, but I had no idea it was anything like that.”
“If she gives you any trouble, just let me know. I can handle her.” I quickly tack on, “Ty too.”
He nods at me. “You’re the bravest woman in the world.”
A smile perks up at the corner of my mouth. “It’s just one blonde girl.”
We both look up in attention as Professor Lourdes begins speaking. He’s writing on the board in his lovely script and we all follow his instruction. My eyes glance over at Cordelia who is also stealing look at me. She turns away, and whispers to the girl beside her.
John elbows me. “And thus one becomes two.”
We both snicker.
“Quite in the back!” Professor Lourdes chuckles authoritatively.
John and I cover our mouths, trying to surprise our huge grins.
I look to John and nod. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
I shrug. “Just for being on my side I suppose.”
Chapter Two:
I didn’t go with John to the cafeteria at lunch. Instead I walked back out to the front gate and sat by Stone Lake. I pulled an apple from my bag and took tiny bites out of it. I was neither hungry nor interested in mingling with my fellow students. At least not yet. Considering the only ones I’d want to sit with would be Ty or John, are a Ruby and Diamond respectively. They are both technically beneath me. I doubt I’d be allowed by this ridiculous Caste system to even sit by them.
“It’s you again.” I turned to look up above me at the stone. Standing there was the girl from this morning. I stood, standing back up on the platform and waving to her. She smiled back, nodding gently.
“You seem attracted to this place.”
“It’s peaceful.” I put my hands against my hips. “And I love being around water.”
Den stepped down from the stone and into the water of the fountain, pulling her long skirt up as she did so. “Thank you for the help this morning.”
I bobbed my head slightly. I was unsure of what to make of her newfound friendliness. “Of course. Umm-”
“Sorry if I was a bit rude.” Den waded through the water until she stood before me. “I was scared, so I wasn’t much of a people person.”
“No, of course.” I was shaking my head. “I’m Heloise.”
Den beamed. “Heloise Boniface, yes! You’re new today.” Den stepped out of the water and onto the cobblestone surrounding it. “Ty has been anxious.”
John had mentioned she was on the Student Government. It had actually never occurred to me that she and Ty might know one another, talk to each other as friends. My surprised expression has Den explaining.
“Ty and I talk a lot during meetings.” Den twirls slightly. “He says you came here against your father’s wishes.”
I fold my arms behind my back. This is a gesture I take from my father. A gesture that Angie says makes me look like an old man. “That’s right.”
“But you are meant to be here.”
“Excuse me?”
Den stepped off the fountain and into her shoes just below. “Oh nothing.” She giggled, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Are you busy at the moment?”
I shake my head. “No. Why?”
“C’mon, just follow me.” Den waved her hand to follow and began walking back towards the school. I sling my bag back over my shoulder and walk off after Den.
“We have a special gallery here at the school.” Den explained as we walk, bypassing the glass elevator and going behind it to a small service type elevator. Den pulled open the little iron gate and allowed me to step in first. She closed the gate behind her and locked it.
“Professor Lourdes helped piece it together, but not a lot of students know about it. It’s mainly a sanctuary for the Student Government.”
I tilt my head to my shoulder “Then why tell me?”
Den just smiled, pulling hard on the lever that began dropping the us down and down. “This place has a basement?” I ask, amazed.
“This old place has a lot of hidden places inside.” Den replied, looking up at the darkening ceiling.
I could feel the air dampen and chill around me. I wrapped my arms around me, wondering just how far down Den was going to take me. I pictured a cave below the school, massive caverns and alters like the Phantom had under the PAris Opera house.
The lift came to a jolting stop and Den unlocked the little gate and opened it wide, stepping out before me this time. I looked around, it was a massive round room. The walls decorated with tapestries and elegant paintings. Between these hangings were suits of armor, and in the center of it a wide, round table.
“Wow,” I murmured as I looked around, setting my bag on the table. I walk around the table, my fingertips gliding along the smooth, gilded edges.
“The student government meets here most of the time.” Den said, walking around the table, aiming herself at the suit of armor at the very back of the room. It was different from the rest, for one, it was on a raised pedestal and it was more golden. Also, although it’s hands were posed in such a way, it was not holding a sword.
“This one is my favorite.” She said, dusting at the helmet with her hand.
“What is all this stuff?” I asked, approaching a suit of armor that had long green feathers coming down from the top of the helmet.
“It’s a story,” Den said, folding her hands behind her back and turning towards me. “A history really.”
I had the long green feather between my thumb and forefinger. “Of what?” I gently rub the feather, a feeling of nostalgia washes over me and I feel warm and proud inside. The feeling disappears as I release the feather.
“Something that is thought to be make believe these days.” Den sighed, still dusting at the suit of armor. She places her hands over the gold golves, like she reassuring an old friend. “But, it is all tribute to a great king.” She smiles sadly.
I shrug, sitting on the edge of the table and pulling my apple back out from my pocket. “Like King Arthur or something?” I bite into the apple.
“The very same.” Den exclaimed. “Do you like Arthurian legend, Ms. Boniface?”
I grimaced at her formality. “Heloise, please.” Den looked surprised. “And yeah, I’ve heard a bed time story or two about King Arthur.”
Den seemed disappointed. “Only bedtime stories?” A hand slips away from the armor as she turns to face me.
I slide back off the table and walk towards her. “They were the only ones my dad would actually read to me.” I touched the shining helmet of the suit of armor before me. It had a blue, tartan sash going across its chest. “I always wanted Excalibur.”
Den smiled brightly at this. “Oh?”
“Dad said I couldn’t have it though, because Dagonet threw it into the lake.” I looked back at Den. “Is this whole school based on those stories? Castle and all?”
Den shrugged. “Perhaps.” She then sighed and looked down at her watch which had begun beeping. “Excuse me for a moment.” She turned off the alarm then disappeared down a hallway next to the lift.
I walked around the table, looking at each suit of armor and the paintings between them. Knights brandishing their swords, bowing before a king, being awestruck by ethereal women. I then stood before the gold armor, missing it’s weapon. Its mate. I reached up, cupping the helmet in my hand. It felt warm to the touch.
I was so captivated by the armor I didn’t hear the elevator churning behind me. I only noticed it when the creaky gate opened and shut with a tight clang. Turning I found Professor Ari Lourdes standing behind me, a book in one hand a sack lunch in the other.
He saw me. Even though he was some ways away, and his glasses covering them, I could see his green eyes widen.
“Ms. Boniface,” he took a tentative step forward as my hand slipped from the armor and turned from it, and folded my arms behind my back.
Ari removed his glasses. “What are you doing down here?”
I dipped my head to the side. “Den was giving me a tour.”
“Den?” Ari pocketed his glasses. “That’s odd, she’s normally so…shy.” His breath seemed to falter, seeing me posed before the golden armor.
I pointed my thumb over my shoulder. “What happened to it?”
“Pardon?”
I turned back towards the suit of armor. “This suit is missing it’s mate.” I say, laying my hands over those of the armor. “Den said you helped piece together this exhibit.”
“Ah yes, well, that is said to be a replica of King Arthur’s armor.” Ari replied as he walked around the table towards them.
I cup my hands around the gold gloves, thinking that they seemed small. My hands could fit inside them perfectly. “Then where is Excalibur?”
“At the bottom of a lake.” I looked up, Ari standing a few inches behind me. He smiled, “or so legend has it.”
I smiled back. “I believe that is the main theory, yes.”
“The head master of the school has always been fascinated with the stories of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. His whole family in fact, dating back to the founding of this school.” Ari said, taking a seat at the table. “They wanted to be able to teach children to be chivalrous and brave like Arthur and his knights.”
My smile turns smug for a moment as the idea dawns on me. “So then, the Student Government is very much an attempt to copy the Round Table?”
Ari laughs looking at the table. “You’ve caught on to that, have you?”
My hand glides across the back of Ari‘s chair as I walk by. “A round table surrounded by suits of armor.” I want to tousle his hair but I draw my hand away. “It isn’t hard to catch the drift.”
“I read your records your tutors provided,” Ari said, watching me as I stopped two chairs away. “You’re…you’re actually quite brilliant, Ms. Boniface. You’re father is breeding you to be a great leader.”
“A leader of companies.” I spat hatefully.
Ari looked taken aback by this. “Do you not want to inherit your father’s dynasty?”
I whirl around in a viciously cyclone. “I want my own dynasty!” My hand slams down on the table.
My wild hair flying about my head, falling on my shoulders. Catching myself in his eyes I straighten my back, regaining myself. “I want to build something…with my own…two hands.”
“You could do it.”
I glance quickly at him and then away again. I felt near tears. “He, my father, would never allow it.”
I comb my fingers through my hair then tossed it back over my shoulders. Now that I didn’t have stylists to fashion my hair sleek straight or into to corkscrew curls it was beginning to return to it’s natural wild lion’s mane.
“He didn’t even want me to come here. Afraid I’ll learn to fight him.”
Ari chuckled. “Looks like you already know how to do that.”
Aside from his beauty, it was easy to see why his classes were always filled up. He could see me. Behind all my armor and father’s make-up he could see me. He knew how to reach people by that, too.
I laugh. Covering my hand with my mouth. “Yes. I suppose so.”
“I was surprised when I first saw you,” Ari said, opening his sack lunch. “You and Ty look an awful lot alike.” He pulled out an apple. “The only thing he shares with Cordelia is a name.” He said Cordelia’s name with an acidic bite.
I smile. Not just because he said Ty and I look like siblings but because he could also see through Cordelia. “That’s probably why Cordelia hates us.”
Ari laughed. A knowing glint glowing in his eyes. He looked up though as Den came back into the room.
“I’m done now.” Rather than seem surprised by Professor Lourdes, she smiles knowingly and quite brightly. “Oh, Professor Lourdes, how are you?”
He nods towards her. “I’m fine Den. Glad to see you befriending Ms. Boniface.”
“Heloise.” I corrected him.
Den smiled, not answering him. She turned to me and waved her hand to the elevator. “Ready to go? Classes will restart soon.”
I go back and pick up my bag. “Thanks for the chat, Professor Lourdes.”
He smiles. “Ari.” He corrects. I turn but he touches my elbow. “If you need help catching up to the rest of the students, my door is always open. I’ll help you in any subject you need. Heloise.”
“That’s very nice of you.” I feel my cheeks warm at his touch. “Might take you up on it.” I nod then head back to Den who is smiling at Ari. She follows me into the elevator and shuts it tight.
As the lift clatters back to the student commons, John is waiting for me. He is leaning against the wall reading a book. He stands in attention like a soldier as Den and I step out.
Den tilts her head at me. “Did you enjoy the gallery?”
“Very much.” I nod. “Thank you, Den.”
Den nods then flits off without a word. I stare after her, confused.
“She’s an odd one.” John says. He begins to say something else when the music for the student announcements comes on. “Oh bother.” John huffs. We stand in the middle of the commons.
“Hello Cleatom Academy!” Ty’s voice echoes. “Afternoon classes have been canceled for today.” A low roar comes from the commons as students cheer for their good fortune. “I know? Isn’t that just the bee knees?” I smile picturing Ty in his box. “But feel free to use the rooms for study. Also, it’s happy hour at The Creamery Coffee Shop. All drinks half off!”
Another low roar.
“Want some coffee?” John asks.
I shake my head. “Uhm, no thank you. I think I’ll just go back to my room for now.” I say. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, though.”
John nods as we begin to separate. “I’ll meet you in Professor Lourdes classroom.” He waves and vanishes into the growing crowd aiming for the coffee shop.
I turn on my heel and head back towards the lift. I go to wrench it open when I realize it is gone. I hear it below, churning and working it’s way up. I step aside and watch is rise. I see inside a couple inside. I recognize the sleek golden hair as Cordelia and I step further into the shadows. I see the man she’s with, tall and slender with dark hair. My jaw drops as he walks out, pulling Cordelia with his lips. They separate briefly before she has him locked again.
“I really must go.” Ari is breathless.
“Oh fine.” Cordelia pouts girlishly. She stays in the elevator. “I’ll see you later then, darling?”
Darling?
Ari smiled. “Of course.” He waves her off as she turns the elevator back on.
Disappearing below again. I look at Ari and watch him adjust his tie and collar. He wipes at his mouth and smoothes out his hair. He produces the apple he had been eating when I left him and takes a bite. He then walks away and into the glass elevator.
I’m not sure what to feel. Shock definitely. Betrayal? But why? I don’t even know Professor Lourdes. I only had a brief chat with him a moment ago. But he was nice to me. He listened to me. I thought he saw me. I thought he saw Cordelia.
Why Cordelia?
I slide to the floor. Bewilderment sweeping over my brain. I think about Ari’s apple and decide to throw mine away. It’s probably brown by now. I go to reach for it and notice a little red book in my bag. I take it out. It was the book Ari had been carrying when he first came into the room. How did it get in my bag?
The cover it soft cloth. Once it had been deep red but it was faded now, but the gold emblem emblazoned on the front was just as dazzling as it must have been when it was first published. The gold lion on the front matched the one on the school pins. I opened it up and a pressed flower fell out into my lap. Picking it up I realize it’s a lilac. I read the title page.
Merlin’s Arthur
I flip through the pages and something else slips from the pages. It’s heavy and cold. When I hold it in my palm I see it’s a key, a lion head serving as the top. It’s mouth gaped open, the key serving as its tongue. And engraved on it’s tongue was my name.
Chapter Three:
The academy has long since emptied out and I sit alone at Stone Lake. I thumb the key in my hand, wondering what it means. Did Professor Lourdes give this to me? I hold it against my chest, looking up at the dim windows of the academy. I wonder if he is still in his room? Was he expecting me to take him up on that study session?
“I can see you out there.”
I let out a yelp as a voice booms out over the empty campus. I huff, flustered. Realizing Ty has seen me some how.
“I’ll meet you in the commons.” Ty says and then the intercom goes quite.
I stand. Placing the key in the pocket of my vest before I walk back to the academy. I go in and wait before the glass elevator for Ty. I keep finding myself glancing at the little iron elevator behind. Why do I care what Professor Lourdes does? I convince myself its because it was Cordelia. Nothing more.
The glass elevator swings open and Ty comes out. He’s out of his school uniform, weAring only a pair of jeans and a dark t-shirt. “Wanna have some fun?”
I shrug. “Depends.”
Ty loops his arm around my neck and leads me away. We walk for a long time in silence. It’s hard to think we’ve been separated from one another for ten years now.
“I have a wonderful evening planned,” he tells be just before we reach the dorms.
I look up at him, his arm serving as my scarf. “Oh really?”
He smiles impishly. “You are a very lucky lady. Many women fight for the hand of Ty Jerrick, but only you can have it.”
I scoff at him, knowing him all too well.
He squeezes his arm tighter. “Go up and get changed, quick.” He commands me, pushing me to the front door of my dormitory.
I look back at him before I walk inside, slightly afraid when I come back out he’ll of disappeared into the golden autumn air. It’s where he belongs anyways, my flitting leaf.
He shoos me and I smile at him. “Ok, ok, just a second.” I call to him and rush inside and up to my room. I hurry myself into a t-shirt dress and grab my jacket. I don’t want to miss a moment with him.
We then walk to the school garage. A lot of the students who stay in the dorms have cars they use to go into town. We get into Ty’s car, a 1969 olive-green Mustang, and drive off.
He has the last picture taken of us together taped to the rearview mirror. I’m six, he’s seven. We’re hugging in front of the old cinema.
“I thought I’d take you to the docks.” Ty puts on a pair of sunglasses. “I know how you like the water. Plus, there is something I want to show you.”
“Sounds fun.” I lean back in the leather seat. “Why were afternoon classes canceled?”
He shrugs. “Silly reasons. Works in our favor though.” He says with a grin. It’s the kind of grin that makes me think he had something to do with it. But I know that’s just Ty. Everything he says sounds mischievous. He used to get in so much trouble back when he lived with father and me. I think that was one of the reasons Mrs. Jerrick and my father decided he’d be best with her.
Ty parked his car on the street and we got out to walk. He put his arm around my shoulders again. He probably thought I was cold in the wind.
We stopped at a sweet shop and got hot coco. I got marshmallows and cinnamon. Ty got whip cream and sprinkles, and another with marshmallows and caramel.
I crook my brow at him. “Why’d you get two?”
He mimics my eyebrow, then flips it to the other brow and back. “Too keep me sweet.”
I couldn’t wait to get to the dock. I loved the smell of the wind off the ocean. Even now I dream of the summer house in France, an old chateau overlooking the ocean. I’d fall asleep in the box window, just watching the sunset melt into the waves.
The dock is made of old but hard and sturdy wood. I love it instantly. The sun reflects in glittering cascades off the water. As I race Ty towards the end of the dock a small girl comes into view. The sun glows off her golden hair like she has a halo. I think of the extra coco Ty bought, marshmallows and caramel. I feel like such an idiot for not realizing it sooner. She turns, her pale face flushed from the breeze. I raise my hands to my face and race to her.
“Nissa!” I cry as I scoop her up in my arms. “How on earth?”
She clings to me, gripping on as tight as she can. “Heloise,” she whimpers into my chest.
I cupped her face in my hands, beaming into those blue-gray eyes. “I thought you were in America!”
She was almost crying. Then again she always had tears in her eyes when she was happy. “Grandmother convinced Mama to send me back here.”
I pinched her cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She bit her lip. “Grandmother doesn’t like you.”
I laugh and pull her into another tight hug, cupping the back of her head. “I’m so happy to see you. I don’t care what that old bird thinks.”
Behind us, Ty laughs. “I told you you’d like the docks.”
“Are you attending Cleatom then?” I ask, reluctantly pulling back.
She nods. “Yes.” She pulls out her Diamond pin. “Isn’t it pretty?”
I feel upset she is only a Diamond. Her miserly old grandmother is a modern day Ebenezer Scrooge. Plus you add in both her mother’s celebrity and her own, she should be an Emerald. I cup Nissa’s hands in mine, ignoring it.
“I saw your last movie. You were so wonderful.”
Nissa beamed and asked about our father. I told her he was the same as always. I obligatory asked about her mother. Nissa answers that she’s been so busy, with movies, TV, and even a book in the works. I have no idea what that woman would write about but I nod and smile. I’m just happy to have Nissa back in my arms again.
“How long have you been in Cleatom?” I asked.
“A year,” Nissa admits guiltily, biting her bottom lip. “But I’m moving into the dorms soon. Grandmother’s health is failing and she said it would be best for me to stay away from it.” Poor sweet, darling, Nissa. She’s covering for the world’s oldest hypochondriac. I bet the bat sent Nissa away, complaining that she was the cause of her warts or something idiotic like that.
“I have us reservations set up.” Ty says, tapping the face of his watch. “I figured we Boniface children should have our long, over-do family dinner.”
Nissa squeezed onto my hand as we walked, she caught Ty’s and we walked in a row down the street. One thing I am grateful to my father about is this, my siblings.
Once we sit down at the restaurant Nissa and I begin peppering each other with questions. She asks me about home. Ty asks her about what celebrities she’s met. I ask her about her travels.
“Oh!” Nissa suddenly exclaims. “I haven’t told you the best thing!” She giggles excitedly. “I’m Ty’s assistant!” She says, touching his hand. “I’m part of the Student Government.”
“Really?” I gasp.
She nods. “Yes! I never thought Ty would hire me.” She blushes some. “I thought for sure he’d pick some pretty girl.”
Ty scoffs. “I did pick a pretty girl.”
Nissa rolls her eyes, same as me. “You know what I mean, Ty.” She looks at me and we both crack up.
“I see what you think of me.” He scoffs, slapping his palm against his chest and turning his head over-dramatically away. “I am saving myself for marriage.”
Nissa and I laugh harder. I’m squeezing Nissa’s hand, not realizing how hard, but she offers no complaint because she squeezes right back.
We leave just as the restaurant closes. Ty drives us back dropping me off at my dormitory. I kiss Nissa goodbye, almost wanting to cry as I watch them drive off.
I suddenly feel exhausted as I get to my room. I strip as I walk to the bathroom where I shower. As I dry my hair with a towel I pick up my dirty laundry and toss it in the allotted bin. One of the staff would collect it in the morning. I picked up my uniform and the key fell out of the pocket.
I had almost completely forgotten about it. I roll it through my hands then set it in my bedside table. I get into my sleep shirt then return to the key. I look up at it as I lay on my bed. I drift off to sleep soon with the key clutched in my hand.
I’m standing on a boat, my body badly injured and bleeding. I’m screaming. Fighting against arms holding me back. I know I have won against these arms many times in the past, but my body is so badly beaten they are winning.
I’m screaming someone’s name. Someone I don’t want to leave. Someone I love.
I finally collapse to the floor of the boat, sobbing their name over and over. I’ll never see them again will I? I look up at the one who was holding me back and he shakes his head sadly. He gently wipes away my tears and leads me into the boat. He sets me down gently on a comfortable chair and he extends my legs, removing the heavy metal boots from my feet.
I’m still whispering the name, over and over.
Two soft hands gently cress my cheeks and pull back my hair, tying it up and away from my face like I like. I look up into her warm, familiar eyes. She is crying too and I am comforted there. I lean my head into her arm as she removed the metal gauntlets from my arms. She’s singing a song to me.
I look down at the man tending to the wound in my belly and I ask him something. He looks at me and answers, “Your loved ones cannot follow you here, my lord.”
I’m baffled.
He doesn’t allow me to argue. I whisper the name again and he shakes his head.
The woman pulls a locket out from around my neck and opens it before me. I preciously cradle it in my hands. Inside is a lock of raven black hair. It sends me into shuddering tears.
I awake from the dream, still whispering the name, still crying. I sit upright and rub hard at my eyes. The name has already been forgotten, but the heart break I felt in longing for it still haunts me.
I realize I’m still holding the key. In the darkness I think for a moment it is glowing, but I decide it is merely the full moon reflecting off it. It is half past midnight and despite that I decide I must act crazy and go for a walk. Anything to subside the pain of my heart breaking.
I put on some jeans and a plain shirt. I stuff the key in my pocket and walk out of the dorm. I walk up the cobblestones of the dorm village. I walk past the boy’s junior dorm. The female senior dorm, and I walk further. I walk past the student garage and into the forest.
I think, perhaps if I keep walking I’ll reach the cliffs over looking the ocean. Instead, I come across a massive cast wrought iron gate. It looked like a palace itself with all the intricate works and towers to it. In the very center, where the gates open up, was a lion’s head. It’s mouth gaping open and it’s tongue serving as the latches.
I touch the key in my pocket. It is iron too. I take it out and compare the lions’ heads. They look like they match but in the moonlight it is so hard to tell. I stand closer to the gate, looking for the keyhole. I suddenly have an idea and hold the key in my hand and insert my hand into the large lion’s mouth. Sure enough, the key slides right in and I turn to unlock it.
The gate creaks open by itself, first slow then it suddenly blows open, sending me back a few paces in fright. I hold my arms before me as I am greeted by a cold burst of air, strong enough to almost knock me over, but I manage to hold my ground.
As I peel my arms away I see a thick, heavy mist pouring out from the open gate. I hold my breath and look all around me. I decide maybe I should head back. Then I think that the key had my name on it, perhaps Professor Lourdes meant to tell me about it and forgot. Perhaps, since I was Emerald, I had special privileges to certain areas on the campus. The campus was massive enough to allow such a thing. So I stride into the mist. I hear the gates close behind me and I am suddenly tight inside with dread.
I take a few steps, barely able to see anything around except for the cold, white mist. My toe hits something and I fall. Breaking through the mist I fall and hit on a set of stairs.
Stairs?
The mist is so thick around me I can barely make them out, rising through and going up in a gentle slope. So I begin climbing the stairs, I remember there being mist in my dream, it completely engulfed the boat I was on. Who else was there with me? A man and a woman of unearthly beauty. It is so funny how you can forget a dream so powerful so fast.
Above me I see the beginnings of a building rising above the trees, but the deep fog is swallowing me up.
Am I in another plain of existence?
At the top of the stairs I see not a building but a huge marble platform surrounded by tall statues of women bearing shells and children, massive lions with their mouths wide open, men wielding swords or embracing a woman. All of them an Atlas, holding up the a massive dome covered in tiny fragments of glass that glittered and glowed in the moon’s radiance.
“Oh wow…” I whispered. I am aware my toes are freezing, and the cold begins climbing its way up my body. Tiny frozen fingers ripping through my clothes and sending my skin into gooseflesh. I shuddered and hold my arms across me.
“Are you cold?” I look up in response to the voice. Before me, coming down from a platform at the far end is a man. “I see you didn’t need my help finding this place.”
I’m confused. The cold seems to be stabbing at my brain now. “John?”
I then see two more appear behind him, a tall figure that remains in the shadows and the second comes out farther than John. She smiles shyly at me.
“Den…” I shake my head. “What is this?” I ask, taking a step forward.
John raises his hand out of the fog and I was stunned to see him holding a sword.
“John!” I exclaim, jumping back.
My back hits a wall, cold as ice. I whip around, there were stairs here just a moment ago. Instead there is this cold wall. A wall of solid ice. My breath comes out in thick white puffs now, fast little ghosts leaving me. A warm hand touches my shoulder and I spin around to face Den.
“Hold still.” Den commands and I stand rigid, her hands touch my chest and I fell a small weight against the collar of my shirt. It is an Emerald pin. Den then puts her cheek to mine.
“Never let go of your key.” She whispers into my ear and then she steps behind me, her warm hand lingering on mine.
I look back up at John, squeezing the key tighter in my hand. “John, what’s going on?” I try to stay calm, but my voice is noticeably shaky.
“What is going on is a rite of passage.” The man behind John responds. His voice is deep and I don’t recognize it.
“For what?” I snap.
“If you have a name on the key.” The voice tells me. “John,” he says in a commanding voice.
John was suddenly charging at me. I hold up my arms, bracing myself. He knocks me upside my head with the blunt end of his sword, and I fall, hitting the frozen ground.
“Get up!” John yells.
My head in throbbing and words and pictures are mixed up in my head. My vision is whirling and spinning.
“Get up!” John barks again. Using his foot he flips me over onto my back. He then takes his sword and touches the tip to my pin. “I’ll break it if you don’t get up.”
“Heloise!” Den whispers demandingly.
I whimper a loud, choking sob. “For the love of God! What?”
John circles me, the tip of his sword pointed at me. “Draw your weapon.”
I swallow and roll to my side, wobbly standing to my feet. I still have my key clutched in my hand. “Tell me what’s happening.” My speech is slow.
John holds his sword up. “Draw your weapon.”
I grip onto the side of my head. “Weapon?”
John sneers. “Draw it, now!”
Confused, hurt, and angry I scream out. “I don’t have a weapon!”
I raise my hand, attempting to throw that damn key and then the sound of steel hitting steel resonates like a gunshot, and a bright flash of light that blinds me.
The mist clears. The light dims. Looking up I see a sword in my hand where the key was.
In my stupor John easily forces my sword down and he raises his against me again, bringing it down towards my neck. I swing upwards, hitting John’s wrist, ripping away at his starched sleeve. He jumps back and I run away, a stupid move because his sword is slicing by my leg, cutting into my thigh. I cry out and fall to my knees.
Den cries out. “Get up!”
I shakily move to stand and I hear John charging towards me. The fog is closing in, engulfing me, swallowing me whole.
I drop back to my knees and suddenly I am gone.
John’s sword hit’s the floor before me and I jump away, still low and in the fog. If I remain hidden in the fog, I think, perhaps I can regain my footing, regain some of the sense John knocked out of me. My ears are ringing, blood rushing to them and to the throbbing lump near the back of my left ear where John had hit me.
What was happening to me?
What the hell was wrong with the people at this school?
I then hear a scream. It’s Den. I jump out of the fog instantly, seeing John approaching Den with his sword ready.
Without a second thought I lunging through the fog and the air. I am flying. I am swinging my sword. As I swing at John, for the briefest flash, I see someone else. I see a man with long golden curls, and a strong yet angelic face. He is wearing shimmering armor almost pearl in color.
I strike him.
John’s arm is braced against mine, his hand pressing hard against my shoulder. I’m staring at him, wide eyed and frightened. I hadn’t been in control of myself.
Someone else had.
“Heloise-” Den gasps.
I hear the slight tink of something hitting the marble, echoed by tiny droplet-like sounds raining on the floor. Looking down I see I only have the key in my hand, the sword has gone away in John’s hand as well. He pulls away from me and the mist begins to recede. Looking down I see John’s diamond pin on the marble, all the individual tiny diamonds scattered like so many drops of rain.
John is looking at me, hard and long. I look back at him, confused and afraid. Was he going to hit me now?
John lifts his head, looking away from me and towards the back. “You were right.” John says to the man at the back.
“I don’t…” I murmur, slowly shaking my throbbing and confused head. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve been waiting a long time for you to come back.” The man in the back replies.
John is then bowing before me. “The one true king.”
I’m confused beyond reasoning. I clutch my head in my hand. “John stop. What are you doing?”
“Look at your key.” Den is behind me, putting one hand on my shoulder and the other on my waist. “You’ll see your true name written upon it now.”
I lay the heavy key flat in my palm. Engraved where my name used to be read the name: Arthur.
#creative writing#old writing#fantasy writing#fantasy writer#story writing#arthurian legend retelling#fairy tale#momo monsters#my writing
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
“I’ve spent all these years training for a duel with a corpse.”
[CW: discussion of death and loss]
One thing I really like about Azure Moon and Azure Gleam was the exploration of grief and how a single individual’s death can have rippling effects on a family unit. Felix and Rodrigue’s significantly different responses to the event alters the way that they interact with each other in the present. It casts a pall over all of their interactions; it has tainted their relationship.
Often, in times of hardship, family disagreements can spiral out of control, causing minor rifts to become major ones. As someone who has dealt with a lot of death in the family recently, I have seen this time and time again. Especially as a young person, platitudes about the death of a loved one can feel hollow and ring as insincere and hurtful even if the deliverer was trying to say something that would help in the moment. The tragedy of the Rodrigue/Felix interaction is that both of them are grieving and could use each other’s company and love in hard times, and yet their fundamentally incompatible ways of grieving make it impossible for Felix to reconcile with Rodrigue.
I looked at the coin that my aunt handed me, with a cross on the front and back. “Everything happens for a reason, dear. The Lord was just callin’ your brother home. Let this coin remind you of him.” She gave me a pat on the back, an affectionate gesture. I admit, I had trouble comprehending what ‘Lord’ would see it fit to take my brother from this Earth at his young age.
After my own brother passed away, I found myself understanding much more vividly why Felix was so upset and so ready to bury himself in his sword training rather than interacting with the people around him, who seemed to be grieving in this way that he found unconscionable. He felt that they were trying to try to justify Glenn’s death using the norms of their culture, which was to say “He died like a true knight.” or “He was the very picture of a perfect knight–noble and virtuous. In the end, he laid down his life–the ultimate sacrifice. I feel proud of him in ways that words can't quantify.”
Much like in the example I gave above, an event that happened at my brother’s funeral in 2021, there are cultural explanations for death that can seem comforting to those who ‘buy’ it. Most of us can accept that our older loved ones will sooner or later die, and then when we become old we will die as well. But when it happens to people who are young and have a life ahead of them, the religion/pseudo-religious in the case of Faerghus justifications become more incomprehensible. And make you angry.
Rodrigue and Ingrid, in these instances, are simply trying to square how such a horrible event could have occurred. They aren’t trying to be hurtful or mean spirited, but they are a product of their cultural upbringing. I think trying to ascribe one side as being 100% wrong or 100% right misses the point; all of them are struggling with the same grief, but are finding different ways to cope with it.
And Felix is struggling to understand the way other people are grieving. He’s young and has trouble putting himself in other people’s shoes. He’s also 17 at the start of the game and trying to cope with the senselessness of his brother’s death. As he talks about in the Seteth support, he doesn’t want to be around people who remind him of the thing he hates, the thing his brother died for, the thing that his father uses to justify said death.
Felix: My brother was doing his job. My father is the real problem. When my brother's armor was brought back to the castle, do you know what he said? "He died like a true knight." Chivalry begets the worship and glorification of death. Am I alone in finding that grotesque?
Ironically, the Dimitri/Ingrid support chain sheds light on the fact that Dimitri himself is not fully on board with Ingrid and Rodrigue’s logic, and because of his mental illness he is also struggling to cope with this event. Felix and Dimitri would be natural allies in grieving, except that Dimitri is turning into the boar, which also triggers Felix!
So Felix is left to stew in his own thoughts. Left to build a wall around himself to protect from the hurt that his friends and father have inflicted upon him with their careless words. And yet, he does try to mend fences with them, in his own way.
Ingrid: Why are you taking over my cleaning responsibilities?
Felix: You're wounded, and you're going too slowly. I couldn't stand to watch.
He wants to rebuild the relationships!!! He just finds it difficult because he’s so angry!!
In Hopes, we get a support between Felix and Rodrigue where those differences are splayed for all to see. While I’m not a big fan of Azure Gleam, I like how there are two possibilities:
The path of reconciliation
or
Words that go unspoken because of death
It really fits in with the themes of grief and loss; sometimes you are angry with your loved ones and when they pass from this Earth, there is no turning back the clock. I was angry with my brother when he died; he was a Trump-loving anti-vaxxer who fell into the maw of the cult. I was frustrated and sad at what he had become. Stopped contacting him much at all. And in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
One of the really important things about the whole situation, at least to me, is that no one in this situation is ‘wrong’ to grief in the way they do. It’s not as if Rodrigue’s coping mechanism – which is a logical one, given the culture he is part of – is horrible, it’s just the coping mechanism that Felix did not need. And Felix pushing his family and friends away is not good for his mental health or long term grieving, but it’s the thing he felt like he needed to do given the way he cannot cope with the way other people have processed this event that he finds so triggering.
And if Rodrigue ends up dying, it makes the whole situation even more tragic.
[reposted to add some stuff]
#felix hugo fraldarius#rodrigue achille fraldarius#ingrid brandl galatea#azure moon#azure gleam#fe3h#fire emblem three hopes
91 notes
·
View notes
Text
LITERARY: in ten years' time
Ten years from now, I’ll be moving into an apartment.
To be honest, I’m scared that I simply won't know what to do with an apartment when most of my life has been spent inside my bedroom. I might feel lonely. I've never had to fill such a big space.
Hold up—maybe I need to imagine a bit for the whole thing to make sense.
My apartment will have three rooms: the huge main room with the living, kitchen, and dining areas, the bathroom, and the bedroom. Personally, I believe that having separation between rooms is necessary for privacy and organization. This arrangement gives me a lot of space to play around with; I hope I won’t get tired of cleaning.
I’ll be living on one of the lower floors, maybe the fifth or sixth—high enough to ride the elevator guilt-free, and low enough to take the stairs and have energy left by the end of it. I’ll be living at the end of the hall, at the corner of the building where there won’t be a lack of windows. I’ll have a lot of natural light in the mornings, and there’ll be more surfaces for me to watch raindrops land and flow down on.
When I arrive at my apartment, after an exhausting night of working at the theater, I’ll stick my keys into the lock then push the door in. As I enter, I’ll first shed my slip-ons at the shoe rack right beside the door then change into a pair of flip flops. Immediately after, with a flip of a switch, the main space will be illuminated with lights that emit a soft, yellowish glow. When I see the whole place lit up, that’s when I’ll know I’m truly home.
The living room won’t have much in terms of the usual furniture—just the usual couch and television. But they won’t be an ordinary couch and TV, definitely! The couches fold out to make beds, which is perfect for sleepovers. The TV mounted on the wall can also swing in different directions for whenever I want to watch from other rooms. I’ll be able to make myself a sandwich and see Gordon Ramsey call someone an idiot sandwich at the same time.
Because of my tendency to accumulate mementos, the living room will probably be the most cluttered space in the house, with different trinkets and decorative pieces on display. There’ll be Taylor Swift vinyls on the walls, framed pictures of me and my loved ones, and posters from various K-Pop albums I’ve collected through the years. The feature that will dominate the living area will be rows of shelves filled with books and various collectibles, like full five-book sets of Rick Riordan’s series and an army of Pokemon plushies. Maybe I’ll have enough space that the keyboard I have stowed in storage will finally have a home too!
Since I want to have friends over often, I’ll make sure to keep extra Nintendo Switch Joycons and multiplayer board games to keep them entertained. With time, my living room will be the best place dedicated to making people feel welcomed into my personal space.
Moving away from the living room, I’ll have a dining table. It isn’t much to speak of, but it’s still useful to have. It’s a little pointless when you live alone, considering you can go eat anywhere else, but I will appreciate the extra surface area for when I need to put or lay things down. The more important place that I should be talking about is the kitchen, which will be the place for experiments: finding what tastes good and what makes me comfortable.
On the kitchen counter, there’ll be a vase left empty, just waiting for whenever I get flowers; I could buy some, or maybe… kidding!
I’ll stock up on the food I enjoy and feel safe eating, and I’ll have fun organizing them in these transparent containers and bins I see all over TikTok. I’ll also be able to cook these recipes that keep showing up on my feed, and check if they’re as easy as I think they are. No, I will not be attempting to make every kind of celebrity mac and cheese. Yes, I will remember to buy vegetables and actually use them in my dishes. That kind of stuff gets better with a lot of practice.
Growing up watching TV shopping channels means that I’ll splurge my adult money on different kitchen appliances. Induction stove, rice cooker, food processor… you name it, I’ll probably have it.
An oven for all the cookies and cakes I’ll crave in the middle of the night and spend three hours making? Check. Those two-door fridges with magnets from different places around the world? Definitely asking my friends to bring me more magnets as souvenirs. A microwave for all the instant food I’ll be cooking when I’m too lazy to cook something healthy? Consider that done.
And even after having all that, I just know that I’ll bleed my bank account dry with a pricey espresso machine that I’ll try making elaborate drinks with but end up drinking four shots from when I’m working on a project and can’t be bothered to rest.
My kitchen will make it possible to pleasurably engage all senses and sensations and satiate these different kinds of hunger in the best way possible.
Do I really need to talk about the bathroom? Okay, whatever. Sure, that’s where I can keep all my skincare, hygiene, and cleaning products, but aside from the necessary fixtures, there’s not much else that I want. No, wait—there has to be a tabo, because I’m too used to having one around. Oh, maybe a waterproof Bluetooth speaker too. I enjoy doing concerts in the bathroom, so there’s that. I don’t want to talk about laundry yet—I’ll figure that one out sooner or later.
Anyway, enough talk about the loo. Let’s move to, arguably, my favorite room in the apartment.
My bedroom has always been my personal safe space, and I’m definitely keeping it that way, especially in my own home. This is where I find rest after facing the outside world. This is where I retreat when things get too overwhelming, so no one should be able to disturb me when I am in this room.
Most of all, I want my bedroom to not only be a place for rest, but also a place for me to develop and evolve. The physically confined space will be the host to limitless mental, emotional, and spiritual growth. This is where I’ll focus all my energy into making myself better, whether it be through exploring research topics, reading for self-help, creating new works—basically doing all the things that I enjoy and find satisfaction doing.
For starters, I know I don’t need a large bed; maybe I can have a loft with the bed on top and a desk space underneath. I value having a large workspace with quality equipment, so I’ll be rigging up a setup where I can work and game effectively. I’ll invest in a PC that can run Sims 4 on full graphics without burning up and crashing—well, I mean, why else would I have a NASA-level computer if not for the many cozy games I’ll be playing? (Well, some of us want to finish our requirements to complete our master’s degrees.)
Now, onto other things in the room: I’ll have a guitar sitting in the corner, unplayed until I regain the motivation to write songs again. Next to it will be filing cabinets filled with random materials and unfinished projects that I likely won’t touch again as I’ve lost the spark for them. Beside the desk will be a small reading nook with a bean bag and a floor lamp. Lastly, by the door, there’ll be a full-body mirror on which I'll do my fit checks whenever an event requires me to dress up.
Speaking of dressing up, the first step of my capsule wardrobe will be completed, because now, I have an actual wardrobe! I’ll have enough closet space (no, not for me—I’ve been out a while) for my clothes, which I predict will be filled with my default colors: black, white, and navy. I’ll have tiny organizers for all of my bracelets and earrings, which I wear to brighten up my admittedly dull color palette. At the end of the day, all that will be taken off, thrown into the hamper, and replaced by the comfiest pajamas and a fluffy throw blanket. I will then block everyone out with my headphones and disappear into dreamland.
Now that I’ve mapped it all out in my mind, I see what can be done. Being able to visualize what my apartment will look like in the future reassures me. It gives me a clear vision to work towards, and it helps me manifest the best life for myself.
I may have gushed too much about what’s going to be inside my future home, but that's because I'm excited for the freedom and relief that living solo will bring. I admit that for the first few months, it's definitely going to be different in a lot of ways, like not having anyone else around most of the time. Change might be very rattling, even when you’ve prepared for that very moment ten years in advance. That's okay—I’ll manage. I always do. Having my own place might take a bit of getting used to, but I just know that it's the best decision I'll make.
In ten years’ time, I’ll be living and loving my life in my apartment.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
🕷️
spider-verse_headcanons
MILES MORALES:
whenever he gets nervous/embarrassed, he'll turn part of himself invisible, like maybe he'll stick his hand in his pocket and make it go invisible
SCENARIO: at the college admissions office, rio would tell the lady, "he makes sure that he recites his time tables every night so that he can't mess up on those challenging calculus problems!" and then he would do the invisible thing and go "stop, mami, she doesn't need to know that..."
he'll also put his head on the desk with his hood up and turn his face invisible in school if he's bored
he would probably also do that when he's crying
did the invisible hand thing with fake blood to prank ganke on april fools, ganke freaked out and almost called an ambulance before miles told him it's a prank
had a shoe-collecting phase at some point
aggressively tender headed bc his hair is always nappy from putting on the suit and his mom goes CRAZY with the comb
got little twists in his head when he was younger, but now he keeps it out. his mom will still twist his hair occasionally just for fun and he hates it
secret SoundCloud rapper whose account has like 20 followers and it's him just freestyling. the only person he told about the acc was uncle aaron who's his number one fan
PAVITR PRAHABKAR:
always pulls the "is it bc i'm _____?" card, ESPECIALLY with hobie just to mess with him and hobie would go "don't chat to me mate i don't even like the u.k. myself"
talks with his hands definitely
has seen every romance movie known to man and forces the others to watch them with him if they can
VERY facially expressive, throws the STANKIEST faces at people he doesn't like, yes he's good at reading others but it doesn't take much to read him
falls over when something shocks him bc it's like his little joke
laughs to himself a lot but doesn't tell anyone why
knows a bunch of horror stories on command, the first spiderpeople sleepover he freaked everyone out and miles couldn't sleep without the light on
just dance GOD
can raise both eyebrows individually
GWEN STACY:
had an agressive minecraft phase when she was 8 where she got the creeper hoodie and never took it off
definitely had a full pixie cut at some point
theater kid, definitely goes to watch broadway shows with her dad every so often, has met famous people because of it, her favorite one is probably dear evan hansen (idk i haven't seen it)
ben platt worshipper
drums on anything she can get her hands on
music blaster
tried electric guitar for a blip of a moment
morning person, stretches anywhere and everywhere
her favorite thing is DESTROYING pointe shoes because she can take out all her anger. this one time it got to a point where after her shoe destroying sesh she started crying because she didn't realize she had so much pain built up inside her
tutu hater
takes french and already knows a ton from ballet
wheeze laugher
pastel note taker
really pretty handwriting when she tries, chicken scratch when she doesn't
HOBIE BROWN:
surprisingly good american accent
knows a bunch of magic tricks to entertain kids experiencing homelessness on the street
headphones always on so they're absolutely demolished and holding on for dear life, too bothered to get a new pair
REALLY good with kids, does anything to help them preserve their childhood because he feels like his was gone too quickly
good whistler
beats everyone in board games
knows a lot about politics for someone who doesn't rlly like them
can judge people's character based on first glance
black nail polish never leaves his fingers
goes on really long rants about the state of the world
reads self help + philosophy books
hops the subway/metro thingy
lips always moisturized, but his hands and knees r lowkey ashy sometimes (i'm blk it's okay y'all)
doesn't drink soda
tries to be vegetarian because of the stuff he's seen (worked at a fast food restaurant and was grossed out about the stuff they were serving), that and he loves animals so
natural remedy kind of guy who would drink chlorophyll water
dreams of being a tattoo artist
uses sound effects of random things in his music, raps/sings his poetry about capitalism and stuff
keeps tin jars and cans
doesn't kill bugs and instead lets them go free
#across the spiderverse#spiderman#into the spider verse#miles morales#gwen stacy#hobie brown#spider punk#pavitr prabhakar#atsv#spiderman atsv#spoiler free#headcanons
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
0:Height- 5'10/11
1:Virgin?- yes
2:Shoe size-11
3:Do you smoke?-no
4:Do you drink?-no
5:Do you take drugs?-no
6:Age you get mistaken for- 18
7:Have tattoos? -yes but no
8:Want any tattoos? -yesssss
9:Got any piercings? -yes (septum)
10:Want any piercings?-eyebrow, nose stud vertical labaret, belly, and my all of my ears
11:Best friend?- yes but not really (i literally fell out with my bestie of four years. Lmk for a storytime)
12:Relationship status- takennn
13:Biggest turn ons- intellectual/intelligence, funny, kinda really mean, big nose(s), and height (ntm tho)
14:Biggest turn offs - disrespectful to women (or anyone but mainly women) in ANY way, too sexual, dumb, immature!!
15:Favorite movie- CMBYN
16:I’ll love you if- you let me do weird stuff with you. like weird esoteric off-putting shit.
17:Someone you miss- My bestie, my man.
18:Most traumatic experience- idek know atp tbh but maybe when i got outted and when my parents thought i was doing drugs.
19:A fact about your personality- i am very goofy and a weirdo <3 (no corny stuff lmao)
20:What I hate most about myself- mouth lol
21:What I love most about myself- face, personality mainly tho
22:What I want to be when I get older- psychiatrist/forensic scientist
23:My relationship with my sibling(s)- good!!
24:My relationship with my parent(s) - fine. (dad), my mother im pretty close to id say.
25:My idea of a perfect date- picnic by a waterfall in a secluded forest in a cute bikini and fresh fruit with a charcuterie board with a speaker playing my music.
26:My biggest pet peeves- chewing with your mouth open, "ALPHA MALE" men, self centered people, being that try and force stuff on you (cough cough), being greedy, MEAN PEOPLE!
27:A description of the girl/boy I like- short king(lmao), curly hair, chubby, nerdy. (my bf)
28:A description of the person I dislike the most- normal height, afro hair, lightskin, crooked teeth, huge boobs.
29:A reason I’ve lied to a friend - she would get mad at the truth ( dont do that anymore idgaf)
30:What I hate the most about work/school - teachers.
31:What your last text message says- idk
32:What words upset me the most- "youre not my _ anymore " idek i have sm
33:What words make me feel the best about myself- youre so beautiful, i can trust you, i love you.
34:What I find attractive in women- basically everything if i find them attractive. but even if not, i still like everything, ( i think women are the most gorgeous creatures on earth)
35:What I find attractive in men - big noses, body hair (hear me out), freckles, messy (long) hair / curly hair, pretty eyes, long eyelashes, thighs, ass, arms/ hands.
36:Where I would like to live- Countrysides in the medteranian (idk if italy counts), UK/ireland/scotland/iceland (idk if italy counts), any big city in western europe, NYC, brasil, or somwhere in washington state!!
37:One of my insecurities- my height sometimes, stretch marks sometimes.
38:My childhood career choice- archaeologist.
39:My favorite ice cream flavor- coffee
40:Who wish I could be- if i had to Zendaya.
41:Where I want to be right now- anywhere i would like to travel to, just anywhere, in a cute outfit with my favorite DILF.
42:The last thing I ate- whole grain crackers.
43:Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately- Pedro Pascal and then after that one of my DILF teachers (teehee)
44: A random fact about anything- In WWII during the blitz in the UK, they shipped all of the children to the countryside of Britain to protect them.
#lana del rey#female hysteria#femcel#feminine hysteria#girl interrupted#girl interupted syndrome#girlblogging#idk how to tag this#just girly things#lana del ray aesthetic
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
taking amtrak long distance (CT to Pittsburgh) for the first time right now and im gonna put the pros and cons of long distance train travel here for those considering this compared to flying or driving:
pros:
- to talk about the part before boarding, this is soooo much less stressful and much easier than the airport. airports are sprawling labyrinths with a lot of people. i started in a smaller station, not one of the big hubs, so there weren't a lot of people to begin with. And it was literally, walk to the station, take an elevator up to the platform, and sit and wait.
- there were not long lines - you don't have to deal with boarding groups, or missing an announcement or terminal changes. you just get on the train when it pulls up, the cars are labeled on the outside of the car so you know whether you're entering a coach or business class car
- you don't have to worry about the security process like you do at airports, no standing in line, no having to remove shoes and belts. you can pack liquids, foods, medicines, and anything you need in your carry-on (of course as long as it's nothing illegal)
- i started in coach for the first leg, and am in business class for the second longer leg of the trip. leg room in both classes was wayyy more than you'll get on a plane
- both have been almost empty (I'm assuming weekend travel would be more crowded) I have had the whole row to myself, except for the last 15 minutes when a larger group was picked up at the 2nd to last station (and I just got unlucky that someone chose to sit next to ME, 30% of the seats were still empty in the car)
I have room to sprawl out and work on my knitting without being bothered
- there is the option of traveling on a "quiet car" which guarantees talking and other noise will be kept to a minimum - I don't believe this is an extra cost at all, it's still considered coach
- the train car feels so much less cramped, there's standing space for people up to up to 7' tall (in the aisle), you don't have to be strapped in, the windows are larger, and big bonus is being able to freely walk around
- there is a cafe car, where you can get food and drinks, with little 2-4 person seating tables to use while eating
- getting to watch the world go by is really cool. spent a cool 3 hours at the start of my trip just staring out the window
- when you have layovers, because the hubs are going to be right in the middle of larger cities, you can go explore during the layover. I had a 2.5 hr layover in new york city, and got to grab a bagel, walk the high line, and visit the large pigeon statue. if you're not feeling like wandering around, the hubs are like small airports with lounges and charging stations + malls and food options
- cheaper than flying (at least this time of year). round trip was $297, whereas flights were $400-$600 round trip
- better for the environment!
cons:
- longer total travel time than other methods
My usual driving time from CT to PGH is 7-8 hours, 9 hours if NYC traffic is bad
Air travel for that route is ~1.5 hrs in the air + 3 hrs on either end for getting to and from the airport, security, and taxiing (total of 7.5 hrs)
This trip started at 6:15am and i'll be arriving at 8:00pm, with the 2.5 hr layover (total of 14 hrs: first leg was 1.5 hrs, second leg is 10 hrs)
- more expensive than driving (this depends on your car's efficiency and tank size)
- it feels like your hand isn't "held as much" compared to the airport experience. like there is basically no way of boarding the wrong flight since they check your tickets before boarding. for the train, it's a much more independent travel experience, and you need to pay attention to the number of the train you're boarding. there's multiple announcements before departure of "please please please check your ticket and make sure you're in the train! :)))" this is not as much of a con as long as you're organized and paying attention
so I find the train incredibly worthwhile - sure it's more travel time, but I'm lucky enough to have the time to spend on this. and the trade off is being able to read, work on projects, sleep, etc. during the travel
hope this helps someone who might be apprehensive about booking a train ticket because of the ✨️ unknown ✨️
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
higurashi ch3 tatarigoroshi thoughts
Yesterday i finally finished Higurashi's third chapter, "Curse Killing/Tatarigoroshi".
I have lots of thoughts about this chapter. So let me put them all in this post.
Obviously, spoilers ahead!
Let's begin by coming clear. I figured that Tatarigoroshi was gonna be a Satoko revolving chapter... and I wasn't super into it. Not that I dislike Satoko, obviously! But at first, it seemed to me like a chapter around her wasn't gonna be as interesting as one revolving around the Sonozakis or Rika. I was proven SO wrong SO fast.
The silly atmosphere of the beginning of this chapter was one of the best, but when we got to THIS part?
This trope is one that always gets to me. The trope of "seeing the ghost of someone in someone else" always gets me so emotional, specially in fraternal contexts. This chapter gave so much depth to Satoko's character... the whole Nii-nii part sealed the deal. I was crying.
Seeing Keiichi in a light that wasn't just "silly mc burdened with the horrors" was also really nice. His role in this whole chapter was amazing, honestly. He felt really genuine and human with his reactions.
As I said, the silliness was peak this chapter. Not really fond of the Coach though, he's a weirdo in a lot of ways that I dislike.
But enough of the silliness, because like every Higurashi chapter... those fun days had to end.
The whole deal with Satoko's uncle was devastating to read. It really drove home the point of Ryukishi's line of work, because this depiction of abuse and reaction to it is so harrowingly realistic that I, who don't really sob much with fiction, I usually just shed a tear or two quietly... was sobbing on this part. Like, a whole lot. When Satoko said that line? I couldn't hold back the tears.
Then you see Keiichi's reactions, and you're with him. Like, how are you NOT gonna be? You want to act as soon as possible, obviously... but everyone's telling that's not possible. You act, and you might screw everything up.
So when you get to Satoko's breakdown in class... it was one of the most terrifyingly real things I've ever read. Satoko's reaction to contact... it broke my heart. I was devastated for her.
Which was a great way to make me, and I'm sure that a lot of people as well, get on board with Keiichi's plan.
From here, we get a really interesting insight in Keiichi's/the killer mind. It's creepy in a way Higurashi never really showed us before, which I think it worked great. Keiichi's plan and murder scene were written in a way that made me go the whole time "something's gonna go really bad, isn't it?" Sure, Takano's apparition was bad enough as it was, but I was pretty sure she was gonna end up... well, like every other chapter.
But aside from that... everything started going badly. It was terrifying to read and imagine myself in Keiichi's shoes. A new you is going around. You killed someone, right? He's still alive. There's proof that you killed him. Yet, there he stands. You feel like you're going crazy, because you probably are, right?? But no. Satoshi's bat is gone. You really did do it.
But there's no body. You confess to someone you believed you could trust, but at the end... he doesn't believe you. You go to save the reason behind this entire murder... and she calls you a murderer. She tries to kill you.
And then, they're all gone. Just like that, a curse killing.
This chapter's ending rounded up perfectly. Everything, everything kept going up, and up... until it burst in this chapter, where no one was left alive, except for Keiichi.
And well, something I noticed... was that even now, Satoko's uncle didn't figure as dead on the credits. He's just... gone.
So now, let's jump into a fun part: theories! I'm really self-conscious of talking about theories, because I'm always afraid of messing something up badly, but whatever. I think it's better to push myself.
What happened? The difficulty of this chapter was said to be impossible, and it truly seems like it. Now, this may be the little Ushiromiya Battler inside of my mind, but I believe there has to be some human explanation to all this, right? Like... I was one of the people who, although believing in the magic of Umineko, still liked to try to unveil the mysteries. I want to fight the witch that's presenting me these challenges, so... what are my thoughts?
The most worrying part is the whole Two Keiichis Situation. At first, I believed that everyone knew that Keiichi murdered her uncle, so lied in order to protect him in case someone (Ooishi) saw the body. But then, the uncle turned out to be alive, because Satoko really didn't seem to be lying...
Could this whole thing be just... a delusion from Keiichi? The whole "murdering with a curse" thing just seems unlogical. Yet again, there's nothing impossible in Hinamizawa...
My best theory right now is that everything we see since Keiichi decides to murder until the great Hinamizawa Disaster... is in some way or form, a lie. I don't know why, but that's my biggest bet. Probably wrong, but oh well.
Also, who murdered Rika? That's another thing to be asking.
To end things, I also noticed how in the Review, they mention the next chapter to be Meakashi, and part of the Answers Arcs. Yet... the next chapter is Himatsubushi. That... really peaked my interest.
I can't wait to continue reading.
I saw a lot of people be excited watching someone reading Higurashi for the first time, so... feel free to send asks or whatever! I love to engage with people as I read. And thanks for reading this far, of course!
Let's see... what this mysterious chapter... this Final Mystery... wants me to think.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Scout Spengler (my Ghostbusters OC) mood board
Image, second on the top row, is what Scout lookes like in the first two movies!
Basic Info and Some More Headcanons!
Name: Scout Spengler
Appearance: Brown hair, Brown eyes, slight freckles on his face. Mostly wears turtleneck sweaters, dress pants and shoes, his hair is always up and has glasses.
Family: Egon Spengler (older brother), Mrs. Spengler (Mother) Mr. Spengler (Father), Elon Spengler (older brother)
Hobbies: When he isn't busting ghost, he likes to heavily study plants and flowers to take notes about them. He likes to gossip with Janine when they aren't busy with anything. He also likes to debate people on topics like social issues, government, morality and anything science related.
Education: Parapsychology and Phytology (the study of plants)
Personality Traits: Post GB1:Snarky and Cynical and a bit Cowardly, Pre GB1: Awkward and Timid
Friends: Ray Stantz, Peter Venkman, Winston Zeddemore, Janine Melnitz and Lewis Tully.
Headcanon Time!
Scout and Peter butt heads a lot
One time it could be because Peter ate the last of his snacks without asking, another could be that Scout had hidden something important from Peter
Whatever the reason is, they like to argue like an old married couple
Besides Egon, Scout is the closest with Ray
If you were to ask him how they became friends, he would say; "I don't know. The conclusion I've come up with is that he just puts up with me."
Then Ray would say "No. I think I just basically picked him up like a stray cat and just adopted him from then on."
Not only does he have a heavy fascination with the Occult, he also studies heavily in other Supernatural entities
When Scout was told he was going to be a Great Uncle he couldn't believe it
But when Trevor and Phoebe where born it hit him hard and he got emotional
Doesn't have a lover
He wanted to find someone to spend his life with, but after trial and error and people just using him in one way or another, he eventually just gave up
Even though they have their moments, Peter and Scout are very good friends
It's the fact they have different personalities and mindsets is what makes them argue frequently
When they were in college, Ray was determined to break Scout out of his shell a little
It worked, but it took a while but he didn't mind
He is on the autism spectrum
He has sensory issues (such like myself) and if things get too overwhelming for him he has a designated corner for both him and Egon to go to when they get overstimulated
Has a bad habit of picking at his skin when he gets nervous
Isn't the most emotional person ever when you first meet him, but when you get to know him he is more open to showing more emotions
#ghostbusters#oc#original character#egon spengler#headcanon#moodboard#oc moodboard#peter venkman#ray stantz#winston zeddemore#ghostbusters 1984#ghostbusters 2
7 notes
·
View notes