#like I didn't even bother to get into the bird imagery

[starcurtain]

What do you think about Sunday and Aventurine? and their interaction in 2.1, I know Sunday did what he had to do but I just have a strong dislike for him ever since. He is an interesting character though.

I mentioned on a previous ask that I wanted to talk about narrative foils/character parallels, and that ask mentioned Aventurine being similar to Robin and a little to Sunday. But I thought I'd combine that character foils idea with this post about Sunday because...

Aventurine and Sunday are Near Perfect Character Parallels

(Also sorry to Youtuber Fayato who I screencapped this image from; I literally couldn't find a single other good image of Aventurine and Sunday in the same frame!)

In media, the concept of the narrative foil refers to a character who contrasts another character; by setting the two characters and their plots side by side, the audience is better able to understand the traits of the central character.

And by setting two surprisingly similar characters in opposition to each other, it becomes very clear how even those facing similar circumstances can take diametrically opposed paths in life.

First, let's start with the basics:

Aventurine and Sunday are both characters whose real fathers were never in the picture, and who lost their mothers right in front of their eyes to traumatizing events.

They both experienced the violent deaths ("death" in Sunday's case) of their sisters.

They both were "rescued" by people who intended to use them by growing them ("grooming them" in Sunday's case) into a figure of authority.

They were both told they were "chosen ones" growing up. And yet ultimately this status as the chosen one is in doubt: Aventurine isn't sure if his family's faith is real, while Gopher Wood tells Sunday that Penacony's chosen should have been Robin all along.

They both became self-sacrificial, Aventurine through his obvious willingness to throw his life away, and Sunday through his plan to remain outside the sweet dream to be its keeper while everyone else got to live in "paradise."

They both are trapped by their situations, Sunday by his inability to leave the cage, Aventurine by his inability to accept the life he isn't able to throw away.

They both became the "villain" of their respective patches and both faced "death."

Personality-wise, they both strongly favor being in control, to the point that their scene together is an aggressive power struggle over each other.

This is how the "future" Aventurine describes himself:

Does it sound familiar? It should, since that's exactly how people describe Sunday.

But they also both prioritize their families, and they are equally altruistic at the core while seemingly self-centered on the exterior.

They both, of course, have the blessing of an aeon.

And here's where I'm going to take a massive tangent, but it's important: I do tend to be among those who think there is at least some connection between Ena, the Order, and Gaiathra.

I've heard all sorts of reasons that they can't be two different concepts for the same being, from the whole "Gaiathra is a goddess of trickery and that's not related to order" to the whole "the Order's followers worship with song while Gaiathra's followers specifically don't," but I think something that has been missing from the discussion of Ena and Gaiathra's possible connection is that "Order" as a concept has entirely different definitions depending on which cultural context you approach it from.

The most mainstream modern concept of "Order" is something that is imposed: A power from on high descends to quell the chaos of the mortal world, to "bring order" through guidance to humanity. This is very Abrahamic, very modern Christian, and that is reflected in the imagery surrounding Sunday. Sunday, as a manifestation of the Order's power, believes he will be able to uplift Penacony from the mire, free people from their unfulfilled desires and confusion, and bring about perpetual peace by enforcing his understanding of harmony on the populace trapped in the dream.

Sunday's Order is not the natural state of the world but something that must be carefully cultivated and maintained, a constant battle against the chaotic forces of life and its temptations. This type of "Order" promises an idyllic future, but at the cost of the present freedom of everyone who submits to the law, who must surrender their original fate for a structured sweet dream.

We understand this concept of "Order" because at its core, it's the one that modern societies largely embrace--ruling authorities establish laws that must be followed at all costs, even when they risk the freedoms of individuals, because they ultimately (supposedly) support a greater good. A majority of society adheres to the laws handed down from on-high, and life functions relatively stably.

Yet this conception of "Order" is predicated on the idea that the course of people's lives is decided first and foremost by the people themselves--which is why they can make mistakes, go astray, and need to be shepherded in the first place.

Without imposing structure through authoritarian power, this type of "Order" will crumble away in an instant, because this view assumes that rightness can only created by humanity, and that chaos--not order--is the natural state of existence.

Ena, who holds worlds tidily contained in her hands, who is tangled in puppet strings, who wears a hood like a nun or the Virgin Mary, and who is haloed like a Christian angel, clearly represents this definition of "Order" to a T.

But... this is not how humanity has always defined "Order."

It was not always taken for granted that people had the power of self-determination, and in fact, for many centuries and across many cultures, the concept of "the order of the world" was tied directly to the concept of destiny. Whether a volcano would explode and destroy your entire civilization, whether floods would swallow your city, whether the crops would grow or fail all depended on the pre-made decisions of supernatural powers, who were in turn often personified concepts of the natural world itself. What happened to any given individual, what twists and turns their life would take, whether they would achieve their dreams or not--all these aspects were also predetermined, decided not by the actions of the individual but by fate itself.

Thus, the world and everything in it has a natural order. Things may seem chaotic, they may even seem unbelievably horrible, but all events in existence unfold as they should. We may not understand why, but everything occurs in due course, woven into an endlessly repeating pattern on the fates' loom--spring becomes summer, life becomes death, disasters happen and are healed from, children are born and grow old. If it is your fate to die, you will. If it is your fate to fight and live, you will. To reject this natural order would be as futile as telling the sun not to rise.

The words "order" and "ordained" have the same origin.

Enter Gaiathra. First of all, she is the Star Rail equivalent of a pagan goddess--her worship exists separate of the confirmed existence of aeons, by an uncontacted and non-space-faring race. Even her description, being triple-eyed, evokes other "triple goddess" figures across history, both in modern interpretations (the triple goddess of Neopaganism) and in ancient mythologies (the three fates of Greece, the Tridevi of Hindu culture, etc.).

She is strongly associated with the natural world: The planet of Sigonia is said to be a manifestation of her very body, the rain is her blessing and acknowledgment, and she goes through a yearly cycle of death and rebirth (calling the cycle of the seasons to mind). She is said to be a goddess of both fertility and travel (likely in the sense of nomadic wandering by the time Aventurine was born). Avgin worship of the goddess manifests in the form of sacrificial cyclic knots.

Which might call to mind another pagan culture well-known for their cyclic knots: the Celts, whose famous Celtic knots represent cycles of eternity, unity, and the interconnected nature of life itself.

The Avgin prayer to Gaiathra focuses on elements of a person's life that all might be determined by "fate"--will your blood keep flowing, will your journey be peaceful, will your schemes stay hidden? It hopes that things will be as they should, that the future ahead of you is predetermined to be a good one, and that the cycle of life decided by the goddess will be in one's favor.

But while the Avgin hope for good things, they also strongly espouse embracing the reality of one's life, with suffering and hardships seen as manifestations of fate that should be accepted as facts of life. It is said that any society blessed by the Order ultimately falls--is it not the natural fate of all societies to one day fall? For mankind to return to the dust and be reborn anew?

Whatever will be, will be.

There is a reason--a logic--an order--to everything that happens.

I hope you can see where I'm going with this: While Sunday and Ena represent the concept of "Order" as a result of self-determination, a power "the strong" can wield to overcome the inherent chaos of reality, Aventurine and Gaiathra represent a different, older concept of "Order" (I can't help but see the entirely separate eye lurking behind Ena?): existence is not inherently chaotic but instead is foreordained, following endless orderly cycles life and death, weal and woe, rise and fall.

PHEW! Okay, so all of that to say Aventurine and Sunday make perfect parallels through a mirror darkly, even when it comes to the blessings they've been granted: One imposes order from on high; one continually rolls the dice despite knowing the inevitable outcome.

Both of their stories are entirely intertwined with the concept of fate, whether by opposing it...

Or accepting it.

And even at the end of Penacony, we leave both Sunday and Aventurine in precarious positions. Aventurine, while ostensibly "victorious," faces another roll of the dice immediately after Penacony, when his future as a Stoneheart is called into question. Yet "fate" comes through for him again--his bet, as always, comes true. His future isn't in question--it is the question itself. What's next? He finally wants to live to find out.

Sunday, meanwhile, ends Penacony's arc in a truly difficult place. He's virtually exiled from the only home he's ever known, a flightless bird tossed out of his cage into cold hard reality. He has to find an entirely new way forward and may even be forced to reckon with an entirely new definition of "Order" itself.

The parallels between these two characters are entirely intentional and very, very blatant, and I am exceedingly interested in seeing whether their paths diverge or continue to reflect similar fates moving forward.

So uhhh... that's what I think of Sunday? 😂

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello I was wondering if you’d be able to write a Ranboo x Gender neutral reader that’s struggling with self harm/depression (only if you’re comfortable with writing something like this, I’d not I completely understand) :)

hi!! thank you for the request! ; and I'm totally okay with writing this, considering I'm fully healed from my very depressive middle school state and the only things bothering me haven't hurt me that much in a long time 🫶 I hope that you're doing okay anon 🫶🫶🫶

RANBOO ; it's okay to not be okay

summary ; ranboo does his best to help you while you struggle with depression

warnings ; language, talk of self harm & depression, talk about relapsing, mentions of ED

genre ; angst/fluff

word count ; 627

masterlist

he'd known for a while that you were struggling and even suggested taking a break/breaking up if you needed it as to not overwhelm you with managing a relationship

obviously you didn't want too

but that came with a negotiation that he was going to genuinely help you no matter what

literally came over after a stream, like 9pmish and went straight to your bathroom

they got a little trash bag and threw out all the razor blades in your house, like looked everywhere, tore the whole place up to even get secret stashes

you followed and watched them do this, fearing they'd yell at you afterwards because they were totally silent while doing so

they also stashed the knives in a drawer with a child lock which you genuinely couldn't open, using the smart logic to use a butter knife if you needed to cut something up

if you were making food and needed to cut up meat, call him and he'd open it for you, considering you lived like 5 minutes away from each other

after he threw all the razors and pencil sharpeners and anything you didn't need that could hurt you away, he sits you down on the couch

you have a long talk about how you need to stop hurting yourself and you talk about safe self harm

from coloring on your body, listening to music really loudly, experiment with guided imagery, holding ice, punching a pillow/cushion instead of yourself, eating sour/spicy candy, etc

they're just trying to give you safe alternatives to substitute the actual harming tactics because they know you won't be able to quit immediately

every week you have a long talk about your feelings, how you're doing, etc so ranboo can determine how to help you/get an idea of how you've been doing

you talk to him frequently that you're worried about relapsing and hurting yourself somehow, from cutting to slapping or punching yourself

if you run to him thinking you're gonna hurt yourself, he wraps you in a hug and doesn't let you go until you feel more calm

frequently sends you texts to uplift you a bit and make you smile

sometimes you'll just have tight hugs on the couch where he just talks to you to get your mind off of everything and make you a little happy and joke around

usually takes you on long walks to clear your head if you express being stressed or very upset about something

he gets you on a nice healthy diet and helps you not under/overeat and possibly give yourself an ed

also helps you get into a routine to feel more clean and organized

refers you to therapy and towards yoga/working out

they'll happily do yoga or work out with you, 100%

anytime you smile, he just looks at you with like love in his eyes because he's clearly doing something right

loves taking you out into nature to listen to the birds singing and smell the fresh air, he can tell it does wonders for you

loves bird watching with you too

he'll find a show with like 7+ seasons for you to watch together so you can get interested/fixated on something and think about that more then your fear of hurting yourself or relapsing

in general they'll do whatever it is to help you cope, knowing they can't magically make you feel any better

so supportive as well

when you reach sobriety milestones (a month, two months, three months, six months, a year etc) he throws a little party

over time all your friends get more and more proud of you and show that well

ran however is definitely the most proud, seeing as you'd found a way to overcome the pain that tormented you

[dogtoling]

💚💀✂️🥊 for Graffiti please? they're one of my favorite guys from your splatoon cast i'd love to hear more about them! :]c

GRAAAFFF i will post his picture 1st thing! i'm glad you like him

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Okay this is HARD straight off the bat actually. As far as he's concerned he's a guy. Not so sure about the sexuality part, not something he's really thought about. He tends to be very preoccupied with art and not super interested in things like dating (i don't think he's ever done that yet). So I guess the answer is don't worry about it, he's not worrying about it either, doesn't matter. He assumes he's straight but he doesn't even know.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

...Not really! He is pretty fearless all things considered. Graf is an extremely chill guy and he does what he wants pretty much. He doesn't even have some of the relatively common inkfish phobias, like large bodies of water, birds, or teeth/fangs. you could argue he actually enjoys a lot of stuff that is typically considered unsettling just for the novelty of it. He's basically obsessed with shark imagery, and most inkfish think sharks are scary as hell. He just thinks they're metal.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

He's pretty happy-go-lucky, and honestly he doesn't retain a lot of awful memories. Getting the news that his teammate wound up in the hospital is definitely up there. Other than that, he was an outcast at school, so most of his bad memories are definitely grade school related, which isn't really an uncommon thing... his teen years have been really good overall! So it has to come down to classic things like failing miserably at presentations and getting pushed down the stairs.

Like, outside of people outright being mean to him and harming him, not a lot of stuff gets to him. Even events that would be traumatic to most people tend to be like "damn, whoa", for him. Even exhilirating, in the context of a redacted event I can't talk about because I want to make it into a comic, which I've been procrastinating on starting for (checks pocket watch) half a year. moving on...

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

honestly. Graf is kind of a stereotypical inkfish. He loves turf wars. He loves street art. He LOVES making graffiti (hence his name). He loves hanging out with his friends, he loves playing stupid games, he loves rollerskating, he loves lying down on the floor with a friend and talking about random stuff for hours. He HATES going to school and literally no one has any idea how he's passing his classes or how he got into Krakensoul HS in the first place with the absolutely pathetic attendance he's holding up. He's the kind of person who cannot be bothered to do things that have to be done, but that are boring. His place would be a man cave if Nori didn't also live there and clean up after him. He's very freedom-oriented and as soon as there's strict rules or limitations or the concept that you HAVE to do some boring stupid thing, he's stopped listening and left the room.

thanks for the ask! Here is his fishsona (both the "real-life" fish head and an artistic rendition of the character it's supposed to represent).

[codradin]

It's been a long day for a lot of reasons, and a long couple weeks for every more reasons. Guess I decided to vent it all into my take on a creepy pasta.

TW: FIRE, DEATH IMAGERY

I've always loved pokemon. Course I have, it's a massive franchise. Probably will be one of the biggest in the world some day, even with only a few games out.

Smoldering Silver

I don't really remember a lot--it's never really been a bother, though. I just go to school, forget it, and come home to play pokemon. Nothing else really matters. It's almost nice--every playthrough is fresh.

I know I've played red and blue to heck and back--but I do own silver, too.

I've been meaning to play it. Maybe I have. Doesnt really matter.

I decide to pop it in the old Gameboy one school day, sitting in my dirty room on my bed. It's very warm out today, even inside, but what're you gonna do.

I turn it on, excited, faintly surprised to see no save file. Maybe I keep forgetting to play it. Whoops.

Oh well! New adventure starts now.

Professor Oak talks to me, tells me my name is Red, which is a little odd--isn't that the red and blue protagonist? Maybe they brought him back for a new adventure. That's fun. I liked Red.

I never liked Blue, though. He was always mean to red. I didn't get it. It made me scared.

Oak goes to release me on my journey, before the game seems to freeze, audio pausing.

Eh? Did the game freeze already? I know red and blue were kinda funky sometimes, but--

The Gameboy let's out a horrific scream, a human scream, and I jump as Oaks face seems to melt--

I panic turn off the Gameboy, heart racing. What the heck?-

I stare at the dead screen, confused and scared, but so unbearably curious at the same time. That's not normal, I know that.

I slowly turn the Gameboy back on.

No intro plays--the game boots up, and reds sprite is standing in a new town, a town I don't recognize, but that's not super surprising.

I amble up to the biggest house in town, a nice tune playing. There's a different sprite staring into the side of the building. Oh, like the guy outside my window! Okay.

I walk into the big building, and get to choose a pokemon! Exciting!

The choices are new and different, especially considering I've apparently never played this, so this'll be cool.

I've never liked fire types, though.

I go with Chikorita. Silly little guy.

I accidentally forget to name them, but when I go to examine my new friend, they already have a name.

Chrysanthemums? That's a big word I don't know. It's silly. I'll call her Chrys.

I walk outside the lab after being told something or other, I dunno, it doesn't really matter.

The man in the window is still there, and I look at his sprite a little more closely.

It's all monochrome, so colors are a little weird, but they seemed "tall", with a yellow hat and beige clothes, something covering their face, and in the low quality pixels, it's hard to tell what they're holding in their hands, but it's long and straight.

Huh. Thats a funny character design.

I take Chrys and go out onto the first route! I destroy some silly rats and birds, considering I have no pokeballs, but that's okay.

The first town I enter seems normal. I heal up, I talk to an old man, but his dialogue is kinda weird.

"I don't think they meant it to go this far."

What?

Man, my game is corrupted as heck, isn't it? I wonder what happened.

Oh, well, the battling seems to be working, so I quickly get distracted again. Away I go.

Up to the house I guess I was supposed to go to, woah, egg?? I have egg. Egg is exciting, and I guess the guy who gave me Chrys wants it. Cool!

I walk back to the second town-- no one is around. It's weird--I thought npcs had just been around? Eh. Memory probably is wrong again. Silly me.

I walk back to the first town. I haven't encountered any trainers yet. I wonder why.

I go to cross the line into the first town--

The game crashes.

Aw, cmon! I haven't saved. I debate just giving up right then and going back to my actually working games, but something urges me on.

I sigh and restart the game. Again. Man, this game is worse than the silly missingnos.

I load back in--oh, it...saved on its own? But wait, where am I?

I'm in a completely new town. What?

I check my pokemon--Chrys has, apparently, evolved, into a long necked flower dinosaur. It's almost giving me a sad look.

It's level 39.

What kinda memory black outs am I having? I was just...okay. this is weird.

The town is large, with a railway track running through the middle of it.

I must've gotten badges to get this far, right? I check my trainer card.

I have 3 badges, now. But my trainer doesn't look like Red...they're familiar, in a way. Long ish hair, a dirt smudged face, a strange look on their smiling face, hatless, almost vacant yet carefree.

Their name is Nina.

Huh. More corrupted cartridge nonsense, I guess.

All the npcs in town are wearing all black. It seems to be raining. None of them talk to me--I can't interact with them at all.

Okay. Uhm.

I walk north for a while, before walking through a transition tunnel.

It's a lovely park, and I think the music should be peaceful and soothing, but it's distorted into sadness, somber and...disturbing.

My skin prickles with uncomfortable goosebumps, and I continue forward.

There's a large gathering of npcs, all wearing the same black in the now pouring rain, the pixels blocking the screen solidly.

I walk up to them, but they don't move. They don't talk. They don't do...anything.

This is stupid. I just wanna play some pokemon. Why is it all creepy and sad?

I accidentally press forward--and can step through the npcs.

Oh, what? I'm the invisible man!

I walk forward to the two pixels their surrounding--a brown pixel and a grey one.

I can't move over the brown one, but I can interact with the grey pixel.

NINA GREY HAWKINS

DEC 7 1992

NOV 22 1999

I stare at the Gameboy picture of a gravestone.

A face stares back at me.

My face.

My tomb.

The heat gets worse and worse and I look up as the room fills with smoke and ash, I can hear screaming, at the window is a man with a strange protective helmet, a gas mask and heavy clothes, an axe shattering my window.

I scream, and he shouts something at me as the entire house rumbles.

I run to him--

--

I've always loved Pokemon.

[thehitchhikerguide]

Season 2, Episode 4: And If We Dream

This episode is not that great, but I did like it better on second viewing than the first time I watched it. I wasn't sure what to expect after the opening credits.

Cornfields? Oh no is this a Field of Dreams rip off?

Wait a minute, where do I know that name from? Oh right he was that actor from that Christian show 7th Heaven who got into some troubles. I had to actually look up what he did because I had thought it had something to do with child pornography. Turns out he actually exposed himself to a couple of really young girls under the age of 14. Oof I wish I didn't know this.

We open with the main character actually driving the Hitchhiker and dropping him off. I guess all that time in the city and he needed to spend some time in Kansas. Or at least the Canadian version of Kansas.

Here we find out our "hero" is Todd Field a high school teacher that is about to meet temptation and if he gives in to it, the lesson he'll learn is one he never dreamed possible. Dreamed, heh heh.

Temptation? I'm hoping this is not going to hit too close to home.

Why is the Hitchhiker walking in a graveyard? Is this where he wanted to be dropped off? At least it's understandable how the Hitchhiker would know about Todd, since he did spend some time with him in the car. However how he knows the dream stuff...well that can't be explained.

Oh God I really hope this isn't a picture of his victim he's holding up.

Turns out this guy is a photography teacher in a rural high school. But he wants to do so much more. A mysterious wind blows into the classroom...

And knocks some photos on the floor so one photo is revealed.

Intriguing. He talks about it in class and finds out that the photo belongs to a sexy student named Roseanne. She bothers him for a ride home.

Get a good look Costanza?

I see where this is going...young teacher, the object of school girl fantasy. Also of note, is the incredibly skinny 80's tie he is wearing here. Haha, you can see why that style died.

He goes home and then is an asshole by talking over his wife as she is trying to have a professional call. He is reading some rejection letter loudly, while she tries to have a phone call with her actual job. That's helpful!

He looks through Roseanne's photos and realized she is a stalker.

Now it's time for the saddest school fair I've ever seen.

Roseanne takes a photo of some horse asses.

Then whatever this madness is, which looks like some band playing in a cornfield. Todd the teacher sees Roseanne and talks to her, probably because there are only 10 people at this thing.

A Magician shoots at a balloon which becomes a bird somehow.

Well at least the food looks good. Seriously though, who is going to eat all those rotisserie chickens?

And what is with this bright yellow cotton candy? Is it corn flavored? Is this something they have in Kansas?

One thing leads to another and they end up becoming intimate in a barn somewhere. I'm very thankful this woman doesn't look underage even if she is playing a character who is.

Yeah, this was pretty predictable. He tells her she tastes of peaches when he kisses her. I bet he says that to all the girls. Hmm maybe that was peach flavored cotton candy?

She seems pretty taken with this teacher, as she dances around her porch in the middle of the night.

Her mother comes out and tells her that when ever she gets worked up like this, there is always trouble. Now, we did learn earlier that she had to suddenly move and change schools, but we do not know of the details.

Full moon, eh? The witchy imagery is getting pretty strong.

Woah, I wasn't kidding. Here she talks to his picture while some mysterious object is next to her.

Great now it's Nightmare on Elm Street. Whatever she did, it causes him to have a dream of her where he gives her his ring. You think well it's only a dream, but then...

She teleported the ring through the dream. Kind of makes that shooting balloon Magician look like a hack.

He is totally freaked out because he doesn't know how she was able to take his ring in his dream.

Sorry but why is there a revolving door going into this classroom? It doesn't look like they are coming from the outside.

Well anyways, his warning doesn't work because the next night she summons powers of a Christmas decoration to work her magic again.

Seriously, I had one of these growing up. I never knew it had the power to affect other people's dreams.

They dream they are on a carousel this time.

Ha ha ha! I think that is that skinny tie from the other day! Funny it made it into her sexual fantasies.

Back at school he is pleading with her that it was a mistake they were together and to stop making him dream about her. She listens to him this time.

Just kidding, she is even more intense. In fact it looks like there are three of her now. For his next dream, she pulls him into the room from that photo he liked so much. But when he tries to leave, he is unable to.

She can be heard saying "You can't go back now. You are mine forever." Creepy stuff.

He sort of fades a bit like a ghost.

And then it just ends. The teacher is not coming back so they are having a substitute come in. I guess he is never seen again?

The Hitchhiker can be heard in voiceover that Todd yielded to temptation with the wrong girl, whose dreams were stronger than he was.

I thought they were going to show the photo again with him randomly in it. But I guess she didn't trap him in the photo but in the dream...so what happens to him when she is not dreaming? So many questions.

Well with that abrupt ending, I have no idea how to end this blog entry, so I will leave you with this guy.

The supernatural elements were sort of interesting, although I can see it being an easy one to fall asleep to. Here's hoping the next episode is a bit more crazy.

[nemetonian-brainworm]

i'm gonna use this blog to just keep a record of my experiences primarily. might as well start now

First and foremost, i was agnostic for a solid 22 years. that changed about 2 months ago. Additionally, I have always been interested in various mythologies as well as geology. Crystalline minerals are commonly used in practices of paganism and witchcraft and I can already identify, like... most of them. It's pretty sweet.

after begging the universe, or any entity listening, for a very obvious sign (because i am obtuse) that i was heading in the right direction, i found an item that will help me start a business. after discussing with some very un-spiritual people (who agreed THAT HAS TO BE A SIGN), i decided...... to start exploring spirituality.

very soon after that, i had an experience where i believe the Morrígan, Rhiannon, OR Nemetona reached out to me. at this point i'm leaning towards the Morrígan or Nemetona, but I plan to worship both at this point.

during that experience, i did a tarot reading. fair warning, my deck is weird. i picked it up randomly a long time ago before doing much research, so i apologize for the weird combos of imagery from... just a TON of different cultures for some reason.

Initially, i wanted to do a 3 card reading (or whatever it's called, i haven't touched the deck since admittedly so apologies if i'm rusty of terminology but i remember the meaning of the cards i determined very well) to determine who was trying to speak to me, as I had been feeling some sort of call for a long time.

While I shuffled, the topmost card (six of wands) fell out. I had been ignoring the urge to use my tarot deck for months at this point, so I laughed when i looked up what the card means. I thought, is my deck or whoever is communicating with me through it saying "ugh, FINALLY! i've been trying to reach you [insert car warranty joke here]"

Bottom row, left to right: First card was meant to represent why the entity or deity was reaching out. Second was meant to represent who was reaching out, same with the third. The fourth was meant to be clarification on who it was, but.... ended up seeming more like clarification on "why" again. I was rather confused by it.

I think the chariot represents either the Morrígan (because of her (i believe secondary) aspect as a war goddess) and Rhiannon because of her connection with horses.

The Hermit I am almost certain is representative of Nemetona, goddess of the scared grove. I mean look at it, there's trees all over the card. Leafless ones, sure, but hey. I have further reasons, but most of them are based on like..... feelings i had during this process, i never exactly heard any words from anybody or saw anything. Is that what it's "supposed" to be like when one first starts out for lack of a better term? Ah, I digress...

Here's the important, juicy part of the story:

I saw three black birds, likely starlings based on size (i was on a phone call at the time and stupidly didn't properly identify them), perched on a lowish powerline that hangs across my backyard. Now, they stuck out to me because the power line is low to the ground, and despite the fact that i was less than ten feet from these birds, they didn't seem scared of or even so much as BOTHERED by me. In fact, they seemed to be observing me. Creepy in any other context, but for some reason, I was chill with it. Weird.

Now, the birds REALLY threw me for a loop. The Morrígan is symbolized by ravens and crows and is a triple goddess, but Rhiannon has three black birds too (iirc either ravens or crows *sigh*). THEN I FOUND OUT YESTERDAY THAT THERE'S A DEITY KNOWN AS BRANWEN WHO IS ASSOCIATED WITH STARLINGS.

As a result, at this point, i don't know who it was and i've been considering getting my tarot deck back out to clarify. I'm afraid to, though, as I know one of the most important aspects of witchcraft and/or paganism is protection of oneself.

Guess I should figure that out first....

[coeurdastronaute]

Fear 12

Previously on Fear

The apartment was very small. 

It was painfully tiny and nearly impossible to stretch across, but it did the job, it was a place to hide and a place to rest. A few plants took their places, vibrant and green against the mess of the room, with its dirty laundry on the floor and the lack of counter space. A bed was pushed against the window, the frame barely fit, the apartment just wide enough to accommodate it. On the kitchen counter, a few old mugs of stale coffee took up most of the space, while on the tiny desk, a stack of books and papers acted like a tablecloth. 

Elyza pushed open the door and felt the warmth as she walked inside from the rain. There was a taste to the air, there was a heat to the evening that felt like home, in a way she couldn’t fully comprehend, though she didn’t ask any questions. The window was cracked, and the hanging vine of one of the plants wafted in the breeze. 

There was traffic noises coming from outside somewhere, though she couldn’t quite place it, or really anything in particular. But that didn’t stop Elyza from walking inside. 

At the stove, Alicia moved around the pan and hummed, she moved her hips around slowly, though suddenly all the noises were gone. There wasn’t much else to do except stand there and look, and Elyza found herself searching for words, but not having much else to say, and so she watched and felt her heart grow very warm and full. 

The birds were too loud to allow her any longer with her dream. 

Real life came slowly to snatch away a perfect moment, and Elyza scrunched up her face and tried to turn away from the light that slipped in through the window. She ran her hands over her face and grunted in complaint that the first good dream she had in weeks was taken away because of some birds who got too overzealous with a little bit of sunlight. 

Even with her complaining, the body beside her didn’t move too much, unperturbed by the noises outside, still very invested in her own dream world. Elyza sighed and pressed her hand against her stomach before closing her eyes and hoping to fall asleep again. She did her best to conjure the images again, but they just played there in her brain, fragments and completely unattainable yet again. 

But she didn’t move again. Instead, she just stared at the ceiling. That was what she did for hours while attempting to not bother the other sleeping girl. If she stared long enough, she was certain she could fade away or freeze time. There were glimpses of it, she tricked herself into believing. 

For some reason, it never really mattered though. Alicia just kind of always knew when Elyza needed her. With a movement, the sleeping girl almost woke, and she slipped an arm over her middle, wiggling closer until her chin was on Elyza’s shoulders. No eyes opened as she clung to a few more minutes. 

“Sleep more,” Alicia murmured. She didn’t see it, but Elyza closed her eyes and smiled slightly, faintly, just the tiniest bit. 

“Okay.” 

“Bad dreams?” 

“No,” she shook her head and let out a big breath. “Good dreams.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

Alicia rubbed her stomach over her shirt and hummed, content at the news of her girlfriend’s good dreams. She kissed her shoulder and inhaled, squeezing her arms to hold the moment as tightly as Elyza had her dreams. 

“I want you to stay, please.” 

“I am,” Elyza promised, shifting only to kiss Alicia’s messy hair that tickled her nose. But still she kept there and waited-- for what, she wasn’t sure. 

“Tell me about the dream?” 

“It was before. You were dancing barefoot around my old apartment and cooking dinner.” 

“That’s it?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I like socks. Tell your brain that for next time. Better to slide around in.” 

Elyza snorted and kissed her again, this time leaning her chin against her head and hoping that she might fall asleep once more. She knew it wouldn’t happen, but she didn’t care. She just didn’t want to be awake. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The sun snarls directly overhead in the mean kind of noon that comes despite the remaining haze from the half-dead city. Elyza drags her forearm across her forehead, the mix of blood and sweat forming a nasty mess on her arm that she wipes on her pant leg. The grunge of her hard work seems to be less that it was before-- something she’s noticed of the dead and how skeletal most were now. It either meant no one else was dying, or there were no more people to die. 

The remnants of the small group of walkers pile up to her shoulders as she pulls the bandana down from nose before pulling off the thick gloves. The killing them part was always more fun than the clean up, but here she was, still doing it. A janitor of sorts. She chuckled at the imagery. 

From her back pocket, she pulls out a cigarette, carefully putting it to her lips and lighting it with her old lighter. The smoke puffs into a cloud before drifting away as she snaps it shut and puts it back in her pocket. She doesn’t inhale it, and quickly pulls it from her lips after a moment of hanging there. She very much wants to smoke, but can’t convince herself to do it. It’s the habit, just as much as these fires are habit. Ritual, perhaps, would be a better explanation. 

Twenty-eight more notches to go on with the count, she observes, leaning on the shovel. The parking lot is quiet, though some gulls can be heard in the distance on their way back toward the bay.

With a small, proud nod, she tosses the cigarette onto the puddle of gas and takes a step back as the pyre goes up in an instant.

She doesn’t like watching them burn. It feels oddly intimate, as if she is forgetting some key step, as if she should say something. Often she doesn’t. Occasionally, she’ll mutter some prayer from the recesses of her mind, tugged out of the archives from her years in the orphanage’s school. Lately, she likes to forget that they’re people. She has to remember everyone back at the compound. She reminds herself that it is for them and not for herself, even though a tiny bit of rage seeps into this. Her retribution for those taken from her. She seeks her pounds and pounds and pounds of flesh as payment. 

With a clunk, the shovel gets tossed in the back of the old pick up and Elyza grabs her coat hanging on the tailgate. She has plans for the day, and she has a tight schedule to keep if she is going to save the world. A foolhardy task, she knows, but at this point, foolhardy is all the world has left.

The truck complains, gurgling as she shifts gears and heads in the opposite direction of the compound. As much as she does everything for them, she can’t quite stand being near the people that forced themselves into her being. She never wanted to be responsible. She just wanted to save the world. 

But she knew how to survive on the road. She preferred it. 

The apartment they picked was in an already vacated section of city that didn't’ attract many walkers. Elyza parked a few blocks over and walked, carefully lugging the backpack full of supplies and checking for anyone else. But all was clear despite the nagging feeling Elyza could never seem to shake. 

Sometimes she liked to pretend she was coming back from class to see her girlfriend in their shared apartment. Sometimes she liked to imagine they were married and would debate what to get for dinner-- their favorite place or try something new. Those nagging moments of before crept in, stemming from the time they were apart, when Elyza allowed herself a reprieve from searching to hide in made up places. 

But they were here, and it was now, and she carefully knocked before entering their little slice of the world. 

“You left early,” Alicia complained, looking up from her book. 

“Wanted to go look for a few things. 

“How many?” 

“Just a few,” she shrugged and tossed her bag on the table before crawling onto the couch between her girlfriend’s legs, flopping onto her chest, burrowing there soft and clumsy. 

“Mmm,” Alicia hummed, knowing it wasn’t the truth but accepting a few white lies. She learned that Elyza needed them to survive; accepting them as acceptable as long as she could spot them. 

She rubbed along her girlfriend’s back, the shirt still damp from sweat and her trip. She slipped beneath the fabric of the shirt and traced the spine and muscles there, snug beneath her skin. 

“Are you ready to go back yet?” 

“Not yet.” 

“Me either,” Alicia promised. “The trucks almost full though.” 

“We can get more stuff.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I got you something.” 

“What else could I want? I have the third floor walk up with an ocean-view in a trendy neighborhood I always wanted.” 

Elyza moved only slightly, pushing herself up and reaching behind her back. With a face she tugged and brought a fist back between the two of them. She had a smile that Alicia liked, ignoring the hand and whatever was inside. 

“I found it… a long time ago. Before you were…. When we lived on the rig.”

She twisted her palm and let the necklace dangle from the chain hooked on her finger. It swung between the two of them. 

“You got me this all that time ago?” 

“You went up and got yourself kidnapped so I couldn’t give it to you.” 

Alicia rolled her eyes but smiled as she played with the charm on the end. She looked it over and toyed with it. 

“It’s pretty.” 

“Thought you might like it.” 

“Can I put it on?” 

With a nod, Elyza sat up and waited for her girlfriend to do the same. When she did, Alicia pushed her hair to the side and let her clasp it there. She pressed it against her chest, as if telling it to stay put and never move. The weight of it was minute against her neck, but it was there, and it was new. 

“I love it,” she promised, leaning forward to kiss Elyza. “You should go shower.”

For a moment, Elyza didn’t move. She just stared at the necklace on Alicia’s chest. Almost bashfully, she lifted her eyes only and thought about something, though Alicia couldn’t quite decipher the look. And when she couldn’t, she cocked her head to the side and she rubbed her thumb along the jaw there. 

“I’m going to go shower.” 

“Okay.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

They stayed away for six months or so, because it was easier. Elyza went about the task of cleaning as best she could,t aking to it like a job, like one she refused to take any time off from at all. They lived a relatively normal life, considering it was the end of the world. Trucks were left at the drop point close to the cabin and they slept in a bed together every night. 

Elyza worked through things in her head, turning it over again and again. So she enjoyed the killing of the already dead. It made it easier to focus and think about anything else. It was a monumental task, to find herself amidst the deeds she’d done, and so she turned to words and books, inhaling them at every step, staying up late while Alicia slept beside her, the candle burning low into the night. And she’’d read them every day, as if she could find a manual for being alive. 

Beside her, Alicia watched the voracious way at which she studiously attacked life, and though she couldn’t fix it, she watched the burden fluctuate on her back. Though she couldn’t do anything, she fought as hard as she could to help. 

But they couldn’t stay away forever. 

The morning the clouds rolled in, Elyza sat down to breakfast by kissing her girlfriend’s forehead and simply muting those words aloud. 

“We can go back.” 

Alicia looked up from her oatmeal and furrowed, confused by the sudden thought. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I don’t want to stop what I’m doing,” Elyza decided. “But we should go back. God only knows what they’re doing anyway.” 

“We can stay if you’re not sure.” 

“No. You want to go back, and it’s not fair to keep you away.” 

“But you needed time.” 

“I don’t know what I need,” Elyza finally admitted. She was sheepish about it, about admitting and talking. “But I think we need people. They might need us.”

“They might,” Alicia nodded. 

They sat, drinking instant coffee. Alicia looked the surly girl beside her over, wondering what it all meant. There truly was no telling what happened in her head, or how she got from point A to point B, just that suddenly the blue in her eyes was earnest beyond reproach. 

“I’ll go out to gather some supplies,” she muttered, leaning forward to kiss her girlfriend’ once again. 

Alicia leaned back and watched her disappear. The thunder rumbled in the distance and she knew from experience that it was a bad time to be out and to travel. She would have to delay them a day or so until the storm passed. 

Never one for premonition, Alicia couldn’t help but think that something was wrong in the air. She wanted to blame the humidity and the storm and the uneasiness it caused, but it ran deeper than that. 

She decided they would visit the Colony first.