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nancypullen · 7 months ago

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A Day Off

Hallelujah! What a perfect day. I worked until six o'clock on Wednesday and practically danced out of the library. I have been rotating between the information desk and the circulation desk and the good citizens of this county have worn me out. The last several days have been a bit wonky. There were ten thousand calls asking if we have free eclipse glasses -we didn't, but could direct you to a place that does and/or provide instructions for making your own viewer out of a cereal box and aluminum foil. There was an event giving away free laptops to qualifying residents that was like the last flight out of Saigon. In the words of an unflappable coworker, "There was chaos in every corner of the building." Don't even get me started about Mercury being in retrograde. Like I said, wonky. Saturday was actually quite nice because it was opening day for Little League and there was a parade down Market Street with plenty of cute kids. When I arrived home on Saturday the Edgewater gang showed up and we celebrated Mr. Pullen's birthday. Jamie and I convinced the fellas to accompany us to a greenhouse to hunt for some plants, a greenhouse that the grandgirl said was "in the middle of nowhere". She wasn't wrong. We came home with lots of lovelies for the gardens, a successful trip! This is my favorite picture snapped over the weekend. Tyler and Jamie in a chess battle on the front porch. Never say it's not exciting around here.

I was back to work on Monday (eclipse day) for three busy days, and now I'm free! We delayed our trip to Lancaster for a day to let the bad weather blow through, so we'll leave in the morning, stay over Friday night, and come home later on Saturday. I'm anticipating some fun. Speaking of fun, here's another photo I loved. I'm pretty sure that I'm allowed to post this because she's masked. No one could ever identify her from this photo (and I've been good for six years). I'll delete if they ask. Anyway, this is our little miss on Monday. Isn't it cute pic?

Fast forward to today and I've shed all of the work nonsense and I'm feeling quite content. I spent the entire morning weeding and preparing flower beds, then planting some of the pretties that I picked up at Ball Greenhouses last week. I know I'm early, but these are hardy girls. If Mother Nature turns fickle I'll just be the crazy lady running around tossing sheets over gardens. Wouldn't be the first time. It's a small price to pay for the happiness of today. Working the dirt and dreaming of the blooms to come was good for my soul. I needed this day. Another little something that has recently delighted me is this stuff.

Because I'm at work for nine hours, I have recently become addicted to sugary, fattening, fancy coffee drinks. I'd zip through Starbucks on my lunch break and pick up an iced caramel macchiato , then I started buying the bottles at the grocery store and filling my big sippy cup (that I normally use for water) in the mornings. I was adding way too many calories to my day. So, I searched for a healthier replacement drink that would still give me the boost - and I found it! I'm not on Atkins or Keto or any of those diets, but I definitely appreciate the low sugar/carb count. This protein shake has the same amount of caffeine as a cup of coffee, with added protein and fiber. It's a win! I can have this for breakfast and feel no guilt. Getcha' some! This post is sort of all over the place, sorry about that. I don't have a lot to say and I didn't sit down with a plan. I just opened my laptop and wanted to say hi. I do miss having more time to spend being silly here. The older I get the less I care about being silly. Look at these cool sunglasses I bought in a little shop in Chestertown. Silly for a woman my age? Yes. Do I care? Absolutely not.

I just notice that my name tag for work is all jacked up by my seatbelt. Hope I straightened that out once I got there, but I don't remember doing it. Oops. Several of you have asked about whether or not I'm enjoying my job. It's complicated. I've mentioned my lovely coworkers, I've mentioned that I'm having fun doing the displays, there are plenty of positives. I'm trying to focus on what I have gained and not what I have lost. I do miss having time for hobbies, doing more than work, eat, sleep, repeat. Of course, as I type this I'm looking ahead to three days off - wonderful! The 16th will mark three months in my position, so I do feel I've given it a fair shake...and I just don't know. I'm really pouring a lot of energy, creativity, and effort into this job and I do feel that it's appreciated. They are very nice to me and pay me adequately. I'm just undecided if it's a fair trade for my freedom. I mostly talk about the fun parts, the nice parts, but there are also the not-so-fun parts. A surprising number of books are returned with bed bugs. We have two large "stink boxes" that are usually full of books returned that reek of everything from cigarette smoke, pot, or just general funk. They sit in there with charcoal rocks until they're bearable. Lots of people are rude, really rude. I got used to that when I was in the airline industry, but it doesn't make it any more pleasant. I could go on, couldn't we all? No job is ever perfect, and in the past I tolerated the unpleasant aspects because I had no choice. I don't have to do that anymore. I've been asked to take on some summer programming work - fun activities with kids, outreach booths at festivals, that sort of thing. I'm looking forward to that, and it's been a while since I've had things to look forward to. Well, that's not true. I've had loads of fun family stuff that happened and even a trip to Ireland in the last year, but as far as having something that gives me a chance to actually use my brain and any meager talents I have - this is the first chance since we left Tennessee. I just wish it wasn't so exhausting. Is that just me being sixty? It's kind of funny that I'm twenty to thirty years older than nearly everyone I work with, but they're all so tired. I don't want to scare them about getting older, but I feel like I should drop hints like, "I hope you like ibuprofen..." or "Enjoy those cute shoes while you can..." Honestly, I work circles around most of them, and I shouldn't. Where is their energy? I have to admit that when I'm shelving, and for some reason all of our shelves have books at floor level (why??), it is not fun getting up and down. I actually love shelving because the more books I touch the more familiar I am with the collection, but that bottom shelf will be the death of me. I snapped this picture last week when I was processing books. Some were going out to other libraries, some had been requested locally and were going on our hold shelf, some were being checked in and returned to our shelves.

That back wall is my work area. To the left you can see some of the 50+ craft bags that I assembled to go home with our little visitors. I love those. They have all of the supplies and instructions needed to complete a small craft. To the right of the craft bags are a couple of shelves of books pulled for mending or labeling. Under the desk are the infamous stink boxes. I wish they'd let me decorate this work room. It needs color and art. It should be pretty. Pretty isn't very important around here. That's definitely something I miss about the south. I put a little bit of the south into one of my small displays. We have a good collection of cookbooks here, so I grabbed a tablecloth and sign from our house, and voila!

This hardly counts as a display - just two pieces of decor and some books, but it's working - people are checking out cookbooks! I swap them out every couple of days to keep it interesting. Here's another little bit of nothing - just pillow stuffing glued to cardstock for clouds, the raindrops are cardstock and string. Rainy Day Reads!

See what I mean? None of it is great (I have no budget!) but it's the fun part. So much of the rest is exhausting. They're advertising for a couple of new positions, so maybe if they find the right people I could work fewer hours. If that were the case I could do this for a long time. I'm already cooking up some fun ideas for May. I have my book lists ready and one display will definitely be "Once Upon a Crime..." complete with crime scene tape and a chalk body outline on the floor (actually white painters tape). I may do a Sci-Fi display with an alien saying, "Take me to your reader." We have a huge biography section though, so I probably should use those instead. I could make a giant name tag, like the ol' "Hello, my name is______" that we've all had to wear at some point. I could put up a sign that says Meet someone new, try a biography and put out a variety of interesting people - founding fathers to modern musicians, CoCo Chanel to Sally Ride. Anywho, just letting those ideas rattle around in my brain. I'll figure it out. Wow, I've rambled far too long and it's all disjointed and kooky. I guess I was overdue for a visit here. I'm happy today because I'm home. I hope that you're happy too, or at least on your way to being happy. I suppose we all have to figure out what that means for us, and where it is for us. I know it's not on that damn bottom shelf at the library.

The mister is turning off lights and heading for bed, so I guess that's my cue. We'll run off to Lancaster in the morning so I'll be back on Sunday to share a bit of that with you. It may be nothing but Amish buggies in the rain, but I have a feeling we'll find some fun. If you've made it all the way to the end of this snoozefest of a post, give yourself a cookie. You deserve it. Consider yourself hugged. Stay tuned for the Griswolds' adventures in Pennsylvania Dutch country! Until then, stay safe, stay well, and know how very much I've missed you. XOXO, Nancy

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dragonologist-phd · 4 years ago

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OC-Tober: Mentor

OC-Tober Day 1! Gonna kick off the month with a snippet for Mercury based on the prompt #9 from @oc-growth-and-development‘s list: Mentor. This is also part of @cobaltash‘s OC event!

Mercury (aka Myrcelle to her family) is my tiefling alchemist from Pathfinder: Kingmaker and one of my few OC’s who doesn’t have a super angsty family backstory, so I figured I’d give her family (or at least her dad) a little bit of a spotlight! (visual reference here)

“You set your school on fire?”

Myrcelle looked up at her father with wide eyes, her hands clasped behind her back, desperately trying to portray as much innocence and regret and I-didn’t-mean-to as her seven-year-old body could muster. “It wasn’t the whole school. Just my desk. And just a little one.”

Arthur Primm sighed heavily, leaning against his worktable as he did so. Myrcelle watched nervously, knowing that whatever happened next would be an indicator of just how much trouble she was in. So far it wasn’t looking good- her father had removed the thick glasses from his eyes and was rubing his temples, which he only did when he was very tired or when he was about to ‘have a talk’ with one of his children. He was quiet for a while, his eyes still closed, and Myrcelle quietly considered simply tiptoeing out of the workshop before he could remember to lecture her.

But then she’d have to go through the front of the shop where her mother was, and her mother’s talks were way scarier than her father’s. That was why she’d come straight through the backroom of the apothecary after school. She’d have to face her mother eventually- Callum would surely tattle on her before the day was out- but hopefully her father would see her side by then. After all, he was the one who had experience with things like experimenting and inventing and accidently setting things on fire, so maybe he’d be a little more understanding.

At last, Arthur took a deep breath in, put his glasses back on, and gave Myrcelle a patient look. “Why did you set your desk on fire?”

Myrcelle huffed and cross her arms, forgetting for a moment to look pitiful. “Well, it wasn’t on purpose.” Her tail flicked behind her in irritation as she remembered trying to explain that to her teacher, with very little success. “I was trying to make alchemist’s fire, like you do! And I thought I did it right and I was just gonna show it to my friends. Except…I guess I did it wrong because it didn’t stay in the bottle like it’s supposed to. But I didn’t know it was gonna explode right in the middle of Miss Harp’s lesson!”

Arthur blinked, surprise taking over the stern disappointment as he listened to Myrcelle’s story. “Alchemist’s fire? Myrcelle, you know you’re not supposed to touch the dangerous things in here.”

That much was true, Myrcelle had to admit. She’d been helping her father in the apothecary since she could walk, and she was allowed to help mix healing potions and simple tonics. And that could be fun- the apothecary was her favorite place in the world, with its endless rows of neatly organized elements, the comforting heat of the fires, the smell of dozens of simmering mixtures.

But Myrcelle quickly realized that the stuff she was actually allowed to touch was so boring compared to what her father made for the adventurers who came to the store- things like explosives and acid bombs and liquid fire! She was supposed to learn how to do that kind of stuff when she was older, but it was really, really hard to wait that long when all the ingredients were sitting right there on the shelf, just begging to turned into something magical.

“I just wanted to see if I could do it,” she said earnestly, hoping beyond hope that her father would know what she meant. Butterflied danced nervously in her stomach as she waited for his reaction.

Arthur tilted his head and studied her through those thick glasses, not saying a word- until, to Myrcelle’s surprise and relief, he shook his head and chuckled. “Well, you are certainly your father’s daughter.”

Myrcelle grinned, her remorse quickly evaporating as it seemed she would not be getting yelled at- not right now, anyway. “Try telling Miss Harp that. She says I get into trouble all the time ‘cause I have devil’s blood.”

For a fraction of a second, Arthur’s brow furrowed, and he suddenly looked very angry after all. But the look was gone too quickly for Myrcelle to be sure, replaced with her father’s usual patient expression as she said firmly, “You get into trouble because you don’t follow the rules. Blood’s got nothing to do with it, and if your teacher is still saying that then maybe your mother should go have a talk with her.”

The image of Liana Primm delivering one of the lectures she usually reserved for her children to one of their teachers made Myrcelle giggle. She bounced on her toes, all traces of sorrow completely forgotten now that her father seemed to surely be on her side.

“So why didn’t my fire work?” she asked, her focus shifting to what she felt was truly important about the day’s catastrophe. “How do you get yours to stay in the bottle?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “When you were pilfering my stores for flammables, did you think to grab a stabilizing solution?”

“A what?”

In lieu of answer, Arthur turned to a shelf of bottles and took down one of the bright orange vials of Alchemist’s Fire. Myrcelle couldn’t keep the smile from her face as he held it up, the bright orange liquid shimmering like a jewel in the firelight. And most noticeably, not bubbling and broiling like hers had ended up doing.

“If you really want to learn, I can teach you,” Arthur said. “But you have to follow the instructions. No doing it by yourself, no taking bottles to school. Can you handle that?”

“Yes! Yes I can, I promise!” Myrcelle said eagerly, hardly able to keep still as she processed this exciting new development. “Can I start learning now?”

“Myrcelle!”

The sound of Liana Primm’s voice caused both Myrcelle and her father to jump. Her father shot her a guilty look as he gently put the bottle away. “Later, I think. As happy as I am that you’re excited to learn, I think you’re also grounded.”

Dang it, Callum, Myrcelle thought grumpily. Her brother was such a tattletale.

“Myrcelle, get in here now!”

Myrcelle sighed and headed to the storefront. She knew she was in for a long lecture, and probably a whole month of extra chores. But at least she would have the image of the bright orange fire and the anticipation of her father’s recipes to keep her spirits up.

#ch: mercury #oc-tober 2020 #mercury's just a little ball of chaos and i love her #i need to write more for her she's so fun

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pollylynn · 3 years ago

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Title: Cabaret WC: 900 Episode: I, Witness (7 x 13)

He feels like a stranger to himself. That should be nothing new. His mercurial nature is his trademark. HIs Whiz Kid capacity for self-reinvention is his brand, and in that light, Richard Castle, PI, is just the latest installment in the franchise. But it doesn’t feel like that, it feels like a stranger has been moving his limbs, filling his mouth with words, filling his head with a jumble of conflicting ideas. It feels like a stranger has been driving the bus, weaving in and out of lanes, never letting up on the gas pedal in case something is poised to explode.

I’ll be there in twenty minutes.

These are not the words of any Richard Castle he knows, not when his wife has invaded his desk, thrown down the hooky-playing gauntlet, and suggested some task mistress role-play followed by some Rebel Bex–inspired love in the afternoon. No Richard Castle he knows would be so slow on the uptake that he only belatedly registers the flash of disappointment that delays her Castle, that’s fantastic by a fraction of a second. No Richard Castle he knows makes such egregiously poor choices.

This is really not the kind of work I like to take on.

Thats a Richard Castle written by some kind of tin-eared hack, too. Since when is he not into cheating husbands getting their comeuppance, particularly when their cheating was so written in the stars that they demanded a pre-nup? He is wholly unfamiliar with the Richard Castle who would not eagerly shell out infinite amounts of cash to get his hands on the longest telephoto lens in existence, all for the sheer privilege of delivering comeuppance straight to the cheater’s douchey doorstep.

He plays at that Richard Castle—he shells out, he works the gadgets, he gives chase and quips about catching the cheating cheater bare bottomed. And he plays at the dubiously chivalrous Richard Castle, who would never tell his not-so-secret high school crush No when she tearfully summons him and his ugly photographic proof to the suburbs, but there’s a stranger riding shotgun with that stranger—the Richard Castle who, for the second time in less than a day, skips out on a wife who, for some inexplicable reason, is eager to spend time with this man she must not realize she doesn’t know.

It all feels like collision, though, not reinvention. It all feels like loss, and it’s alarming. He hears Detective Neely through the thick, wooly clamor of his post-unconsciousness headache, and the timeline is alarming.

Mr. Castle, it says here you only got your PI license a month ago.

A month. A few weeks more than a month, factoring in moping, plus the time it actually took to shake his PI license loose from the gum ball machine of an online course—that’s all the time it’s taken to reduce him to this collection of strangers. That’s all the time it’s taken to decompose him to this cocky, damaged, demanding self that just might be the real him.

A little more than a month is all the time it has taken to strip him down to this—a teller of implausible stories about managers who must be lying because he says so and negatives that can magically be proven, about this mastermind, no that one, no this one.. A little more than a month, and any critical faculties have apparently dribbled out his ear, because it never occurs to him how odd it is that a woman he hasn’t seen in twenty-five years would seek out an novice PI to document the humiliating end of her marriage.

He is ashamed. In the chaos of the rotating cast of cut-rate versions of himself, he is ashamed at how quickly he has unraveled. More immediately, he is ashamed of the way he has dragged her—his long-suffering, neglected wife—through all this. He hears Detective Neely again, this time through the thick, wooly clamor of his self loathing.

Again, thanks for everything.

It’s something one of the strangers he is ought to say to her—to Kate—with considerably more feeling. It’s something one of these strangers ought to spell out in great detail: Thank you for sticking your neck out. Thank you not letting that dumbass sit in a Westchester holding cell. Thank you for bullying the boys and risking the wrath of Lanie. Thank you for peeling him off the ceiling, and him and him and whoever he is. Thank you.

It’s the least he owes her—the least all of these strangers owe her—but the words are stuck inside the latest version’s head. He’s quiet on the way back from Westchester, and she lets him be. She leaves him, them, whoever, alone with their thoughts and points them back toward Manhattan, toward the ludicrous office where he lets himself come undone, over and over.

She pours him a drink and listens to him moan about ambiguity. She gives him more credit for effort, for direction, for empathy and dedication and good deeds than any one of these broken down shades of him deserves. She pours herself into his lap and for a moment—for just a moment in this eternity that’s lasted a little more than a month—he knows himself. For just a moment, he’s not a stranger.

A/N: Holy cats. There is misery enough here to achieve morphousness (but there’s no morphousness). No idea where this came from. I am not in charge.

images via homeofthenutty

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 7 #Castle: I Witness #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Javier Esposito #Kevin Ryan #Lanie Parish #FIc #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Tell Me More

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ffamranxii · 4 years ago

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Bro. My shipper heart is bleeding. These are my current fandoms (Persona, Sailor Moon, Fruits Basket, and Haikyuu!!) and I have some FEELINGS (under the cut).

1. I don’t ship Ryuuji/Protag/Goro. I very specifically headcanon Joker as two different people, with slightly different personalities. Joker-as-Ren I ship with Ryuuji, Joker-as-Akira I ship with Goro.

2. Makoto/Hifumi is a chance interaction that takes place when Joker and Makoto go to Jinbocho. I decided that very second that I ship them so hard, since Makoto abandoned Joker to go shop with Hifumi.

3. I do have specific headcanons for the other thieves, but none are romantic. Ann and Ryuuji have an epic bromance; Yusuke is asexual but best friends with Futaba and Joker; Futaba and Sumire are best friends and neither of them need a relationship while they are healing from their respective traumas; I hardcore ship Haru/happiness but have yet to find a specific person to ship her with. Same with Mishima - I love my boy but haven’t found the right person for him. Also honorable mention to Iwai/Takemi.

4. Yu/Yosuke was my first P4 ship. Never looked back. I also shipped Yukiko/Chie way before I shipped Ann/Shiho, despite playing P5 first.

5. My take on Naoto is conflicted (I understand their story from both the Japanese and Western point of view and can’t decide which I like better). I very specifically ship Kanji/boy!Naoto.

6. Teddie/Marie was a crackship I came up with during Golden and decided I really liked for some reason. I was thinking of what to write for a fic and Yosuke mentioning “oh hey my brother [Teddie]’s getting married” “oh yeah? to who?” “that weathergirl, Mariko Kusumi” just popped into my head. I’m on board now.

7. I really like Rise but I can’t for the life of my find a person to ship her with. I do not like Rise/Yu.

8. Honorable mention to the ball bois Kou/Daisuke.

9. I don’t know why I ship Minato/Yukari. I just really like them together and surprisingly I can hardly find any fics or art of them. I also ship the Minato/Aigis bromance and I love Elizabeth-loves-Minato.

10. You can pry ShinjiHam from my cold dead fingers. VIVA LA SHINJIHAM!

11. These two are similar to Minato/Yukari in that I don’t know why I ship them, I just do. There’s also not much art/fic of them. :(

12. Ngl, Junpei’s inability to leave Chidori alone because he can’t fathom a girl just sitting on a bench drawing really rubs me the wrong way. However, they develop an actual relationship (in as much as a secondary character can in Persona) and by the time she sacrificed herself for him I was hooked. I think Chidori really didn’t give a fuck about Junpei until she was in the hospital and saw how much he cared about a person he didn’t really even know.

13. I’m not totally sold on the other SEES peeps. I LOVE Fuuka but I can’t find anyone I truly love her WITH. Ken is a child among near adults so I don’t really have anything for him, and Koro-chan’s a doggo. I love Rio and Saori, but not together, and also Mamoru...

14. Maya/Katsuya are just stupid cute. I take no criticism.

15. TATSUJUN FO LYFE. DON’T EVEN @ ME.

16. Eikichi and Miyabi are honestly super sweet, I can’t even.

17. Maki and Naoya are the only two people from P1 I really connected with in any meaningful way, so of course I ship them together. I also loved Yukino in P1 (but not P2, really), and Yuka, but have no one to ship them with. Yuka married rich so maybe she married Kei! XD

18. Sailor Moon is the ONLY series where I ship people differently based on adaption. I ship Usagi/Mamoru in both, of course (and I think Mamoru was done better in the live action than the anime and especially the manga); but in the live action I hardcore ship Rei/Minako (who seemed to be the replacement Haruka/Michiru, since they weren’t in the live action), and really, really enjoyed the developing relationship with Ami/Nephrite during the Dark Mercury arc as well as the surprisingly stable and sweet Makoto/Motoki relationship.

19. However in the anime/manga I tend to ship what I’m “supposed to” (within reason, lol). Chibiusa was the first person I ever shipped with two different people. I like the idea of her and Hotaru in young love, and Mistress 9 and Wicked Lady getting together, and I love the idea of older princess chibiusa with her first love Helios.

20. Ah, the Kakeru love triangle. Kakeru just RADIATES bisexual energy - he hits on literally all the Sohma men and he LOVES Yuki. I actually did not like Yuki with anyone but Kakeru until the 2019 anime came out and I saw a lot of discourse about how well Yuki/Machi went together. I’m also a sucker for Kakeru’s girlfriend Komaki and I hope they put her in the anime. The idea of chaotic bisexual Kakeru actually having been in a longterm relationship all through high school and marrying her is just super sweet.

21. I will never let go of Hatori/Kana. They should’ve had it all.

22. Kagura/Kunimitsu and Momiji/Kimi are two crackships I found as fanart (I’ve reblogged them at some point), that every so often I stumble upon a fic or art for. I originally didn’t like them, but ended up ADORING them. Kunimitsu is exactly the calm yet gently mischievous presence Kagura needs and Kimi and Momiji would create SO MUCH CHAOS.

23. I do not like Uo/Kureno within the context of the show. I understand that Uo is probably the first non-related girl Kureno’s interacted with since his essential imprisonment and he is probably suffering from “new is always better” syndrome when he meets her. Kureno hardcore needs a few years on his own, away from the Sohmas, to figure out who he is, and what he likes to do, and live as a normal person; and Uo is NOT the person to help him do that. She’s got enough on her plate with the death of her mentor/mother figure and rehabbing her father. Uo is in a good place right now and Kureno is not, and she shouldn’t need to “save” him. I DO like Uo/Kureno as an “after the series” pairing, where Uo’s in her twenties and out of college (if she went) and got a career, and Kureno’s finally gotten his shit together, and they meet again by chance and they’re both in a good place. That’s adorable. Uo/Kureno while Uo’s in school isn’t.

24. I actually think Kagehina was the first ship I shipped in Haikyuu!! I remember watching the first episode and going “...are.... are they gonna make out?” Then Noya and his dramatic “ASAHI!!!!!” and “I’M NEVER GOING TO PLAY UNLESS ASAHI PLAYS TOO!!!” swooped in and I forgot about them. Asanoya is just so precious and pure. Daisuga smacked me in the face like, “Oh. OH. This is... this is fucking GREAT.” I think it was because I saw someone say “Daisuga are basically volleyball mom and dad” and I was hooked. I DO, however, enjoy a Kuroo/Daichi bang it out rivalry though. Tsukki and Tadashi was a no brainer; Tadashi yelling at Tsukki at the camp was just *chef’s kiss*

25. Yachi is the cutest little lesbian, and she’s even gayer in the manga. I actually can’t decide who I like more, Kiyoko/Yachi or Kiyoko/Tanaka.

26. Iwaoi and Kuroken came to me during my first forays into AO3 for fics. I can’t imagine shipping them with anyone else. They’re just... MADE for each other.

#ffamran speaks #ships #i made a few of the graphics because they didn't exist otherwise #like teddie/marie kunimitsu/kagura and momiji/kimi #my adhd brain just wanted to make a chart

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one-leaf-grimoire · 4 years ago

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Three-Leafed Chaos

Chapter 3/4

Warning: beach shenanigans

"Yami!!! I have bad news!!! Oh- Are you doing something super manly out here?" Magna ran around the corner to see his captain at a blacksmithing iron, pounding metal with a hammer. "Whoa! You are!" He ran up to him. "What are you making!"

"A gift," he said, holding up the short weapon. "It's a traditional Tanto knife from my homeland." He admired how the light was already glinting on the metal. "It's a Tree-Leaf day present."

"Ooh! How awesome!" Magna balled up his fists excitedly. "Who are you giving it to? That girl who got drunk last week?"

"She wasn't just some girl, ya idiot. First of all, she's a Royal official. Second of all..." Yami didn't really know what to say. She's not like other girls? No... that didn't sound right. He hadn't spent enough time with her to know exactly what it was he was feeling. But soon, he would. "Anyway, what's this bad news you mentioned?"

"Oh! Right! It's actually about that girl," Magna began. "I was in town with Luck, and we overheard a conversation with that Lion captain! He was told that the Wizard King and his staff were taking the day off at the beach, so he headed off that way immediately! He's going to go try to steal your girl, Yami!"

Now, that caught his attention. "Shit! That's not good..." The beach was the perfect place to get to know someone better outside of work, and he wasn't going to let Fuegoleon have her all to himself! "Take care of things around here, right?" Yami ordered Magna before turning and running off to find a broom and fly to the beach.

This could actually end very well for me... He thought as he flew. Water, sun, sand... and she'll be frolicking around in a skimpy bathing suit for sure. Yeah, this could actually be really good...

As soon as he got to the beach, Yami realized there was a problem. "...fancy seeing you guys here."

Fuegoleon, Nozel, Jack, and Charlotte were all here already, standing around at the edge of a roped off area of beach. A big sign was posted that said "Authorized renters only." Jack sneered at the sight of Yami. "Ka ka, you decided to come for a dip as well?"

"Obviously, he's here for the same reason as all of us," Nozel corrected, scowling at Yami. "Seriously. As if this wasn't going to be hard enough already."

Charlotte clenched her fists but said nothing. Another competitor... I was looking forward to getting her all to myself.

"I told you, you can't come in," the guard argued with Fuegoleon. "This stretch of the beach has been rented for the day. Maybe you're all captains, but I was told not to let unauthorized guests-"

"Hey! Look who it is!"

They all instantly recognized that angelic voice. Yami braced himself, turning to look onto the beach. There she was, running towards them with a smile on her face and one hand extended in a wave. She was wearing a blue one-piece bathing suit. Despite being decidedly modest... it was almost sexier to leave a lot to the imagination.

"Sir, please let these people in!" she told the guard when she reached them, a little out of breath. "I'm sure the Wizard King won't mind."

The guard couldn't be bothered to argue with her and finally stepped aside, letting the five of them in. "It's great to see you guys again! We've been having a really relaxing time so far, we all needed a break from work," she told them.

Yami gulped, trying to think of what to say. I need to make a compliment... before the others do!

But it was too late. Fuegoleon, being the gentleman he was, swooped in and grabbed her hand. "It's great to see you as well... you look stunning in that suit, I must say." To punctuate the compliment, he leaned down and planted a wet kiss on the back of her hand.

She was obviously shocked at the gesture, but became even more shocked when Nozel grabbed her other hand. "The same goes for me... thank you for allowing us to join you, It's an honor." The words sounded much less natural coming from him, but he still leaned down and kissed the hand he held as well. Yami and Jack rolled their eyes. Royalty was really weird sometimes.

"Oh... thank you both!" she finally replied, blushing a little. "Now... would you like something to drink? Also, you should probably change!"

"Change? Into what?"

A few minutes later, the five captains were standing around awkwardly. Charlotte couldn't remember the last time she wore a bathing suit, but now she was... luckily she found a little slip to wear over it, she couldn't stand the thought of having her crush's eyes all over her. And Yami's too...

"Ooh Charlotte! Your skin is so soft and pretty!" Charlotte tensed up as the other girl rubbed her shoulder enthusiastically. "SO pale, too... can I rub lotion on you!? Please!"

"I-I-I-I suppose so-"

It was too late, she had already moved on. "And Fuegoleon!!! You're so well-built! I thought that all Royals were lazy like the King, but both you and Nozel obviously work out!"

Fuegoleon opened and closed his mouth a couple times, aghast. Nozel pursed his lips together, fighting tooth and nail against an oncoming blush. "Er... thank you?"

"And Captain Jack! You're so tall and lean! Are you really flexible?!"

Jack smirked to himself. "You got it, babe." Yami had never heard the man say anything like that. Jack contorted his arms weirdly. It was kind of gross, but his audience was enamored. "Wow! I've never seen someone's arm do that... and..."

She finally turned and looked at Yami, but froze. Yami tried not to smirk; he knew, in the body department, he had everyone here beat. Hook, line, and sinker... he thought to himself as her eyes wandered over his muscles. "...wow... I've never seen someone with so many muscles!" she finally said, clapping her hands a little. "Can I... touch one?"

There we go! Yami thought victoriously, drinking up the angry expressions from the others. "Sure... go right on ahead." He flexed his bicep, earning a gasp of astonishment. However, just as she was about to touch it, a voice interrupted them.

"What the Hell is going on here?!"

Uh oh. They all turned to see none other than Marx, one of the other advisors, marching up to the group with a sour look on his face. "You five! Don't you have work to do?" he demanded, crossing his arms. It was hard to take him seriously while he was wearing swim trunks, but his voice was still severe. "This is a private event you know!"

"Oh, Marx, it's probably fine!" Marx turned to look at his colleague speak. "After all, I'm sure Lord Julius would be fine with it."

Marx shrugged, looking up and down the beach. "By the way, where did that man go..?"

"Hey! Look what I found!"

The voice came from the water, and everyone instantly recognized it. Yami turned to see none other than Julius running out of the water towards them. He was holding something in his hand, but more importantly...

"JULIUS! WHat on earth are you wearing!?" Marx demanded, his voice higher than normal.

The same question was on everyone's minds. Fuegoleon, Jack, and Nozel couldn't look away, while Charlotte looked pointedly at the ground.

"Oh, this ol' thing?" Julius gestured down at the garment. It was basically underwear, leaving nothing to the imagination. "It's a Speedo, apparently they're all the rage these days! Competitive swimmers wear them to reduce drag, and it really helps me move around!" To prove his point (to everyone's horror), he started to do some stretches and lunges, showing off the hideous shorts tan on his thighs. "What do you think?"

Yami let out a loud laugh, thinking it was hilarious. "You really have no shame!"

"I'll say," Marx grumbled. "We're lucky this area is private... what would the public say if they saw their Wizard King running around practically nude?"

"But, what's that creature?" Julius looked over at the girl, who had managed to drag her gaze off of his toned legs and onto the thing in his hand.

He held out his prize with a grin on his face. "I dove underwater and caught it! It's a crab! It keeps pinching me though- YEOUCH!" The crab's claw snapped down on his finger. Julius swore and placed it on the girl's head while he shook off the pain. She simply laughed and pointed at the crab. "Look at that! It's like a crown!"

... what a weird situation.

Still, the objective of the day remained: spend time with this girl and make her fall in love! With the five of them, it wouldn't be easy, especially since Julius kept butting in. His increased maneuverability allowed him to spend ample time bothering everyone, but they did manage to get a few moments alone with the object of their affection. Nozel created a knife out of mercury and cut open a coconut so she could try some of the juice. Fuegoleon created a sand sculpture of her wearing a bikini (which Julius accidentally ended up trampling while he ran around). Jack threw a frisbee around with her for a while, making sure to pause and teach her some of his techniques. Charlotte let her rub lotion on her, and the two collected sea shells while they chatted.

"So... How do you like it? Working in the Castle at Magic Knights HQ?" Charlotte asked.

"Oh! It's more amazing that I ever would have thought." she responded, pausing to pick up a little shell. "I've met so many cool people... and for the first time in my life, I actually feel like I'm doing something important... I've seen for myself how cruel this world can be, but..." She smiled and clasped her hands together, her eyes shining with pride. "I keep getting little reminders that there's still good... even in places you wouldn't expect."

...wow. She's so earnest about all this, it's refreshing. Charlotte was used to nobles talking about their "duty" and their "importance" and whatnot, while they just did what they always did and preyed on those weaker than them. Yet, there was this girl, just a former peasant, who's words dripped with honesty. I like people like this... people who don't try to hide their true selves. The one to win her heart will be me!

"That sounds nice... I'm truly happy that you ended up in such a position. It seems like the perfect place for you," Charlotte responded with a genuine smile. "You got to meet all of the Captains, right? Not just the five of us here... Did you have any favorites?"

"Favorites?" she laughed nervously. "Well, I would like to say you, Charlotte, but I don't want to seem biased, you know!"

A soft blush appeared on Charlotte's cheeks, but her crush kept talking before she could respond. "They were all interesting in their own ways! Captain Unsworth was so sweet and cheery. We were like Kindred spirits!"

Kindred spirits!? That's exactly what Dorothy said! AAAA, maybe they are on the same wavelength!

"And Captain Poizot was so tall and noble! Oh, and Fuegoleon and Nozel! It's hard to guess that they're related, they're so different! But I liked both of them."

Eek! She even liked Gueldre?!? I can't lose her to a man, I just can't!

"And Captain Yami... he was a bit strange, but he's so muscular! I've never seen anyone with a body like that!"

Charlotte was nearly at her limit by now. So, she quickly changed the subject. I need answers... today's my only chance! "Say, I heard that Three-Leaf day is in a week," Charlotte mentioned nonchalantly. "The Kingdom is in a frenzy over it... do you think you'll give anyone a gift? Or, do you think you'll get something from someone?"

Yes!!! This way I can find out if she likes anyone!

"Hmm..." she tapped her chin thoughtfully. ...cute. "Well, I suppose I'll get some gifts for my coworkers. They're all so nice to me even though I was a servant before. Marx deserves something nice, he works so hard! As for me..." she let out a sigh and let her gaze wander. "...I doubt I will receive anything from the person I like."

...."the person I like."

!!!

So she does like someone!! It took everything in Charlotte's power to keep from shaking the poor girl down. Calm down! She probably doesn't mean me after all... but I still want to keep trying! "Oh, I suppose I will get a gift for Lord Julius. He's been so kind to me, after all. I think I'll ask for faith in return... there's nothing better to have than the Wizard King's faith, after all!"

Charlotte wasn't even listening at this point. She opened her mouth, not sure what she was about to say, but was cut off by a scream from the water.

"Help!!! I'm drowning!!"

Their heads snapped to look at the noise. It was one of Julius's staff members, a short man, who was flailing around gulping down water many meters off shore. Charlotte gasped. "Oh no! Is there a lifeguard?"

"We don't need a lifeguard!" Charlotte looked down just in time to see the girl go sprinting off down towards the surf, raising her hands. Instantly, with just a flick of her fingers, a slice of water disappeared from the ocean, a path leading to the drowning man. With an oof, he plopped down onto the sandy seabed, traumatized but alive. She ran down the strip of the parted sea, grabbed him by the wrist, and dragged him up to safety.

Yami let out a low whistle as he stood with the other guys, watching. "Wow... she did that so quickly."

"And without her Grimoire, too," Nozel added. "She's truly... special."

"Ka ka, that's the kind of woman I like," Jack said, pointing at her as she consoled the victim. "Quick to act, and competent... you don't come across them every day."

"I'll say." Fuegoleon crossed his arms. "I like a woman who can take care of herself." He remembered how quickly she defended herself on the mission.

"It's not just that she's strong, she's also... so authentic," Charlotte added timidly, drawing the others' gazes. "I mean... she told me that she used to be a servant in the King's service, until Lord Julius found her. She's seen the worst that we have to offer, yet she still hopes for the best in everyone. She's not trying to pretend. She wants to help everyone, and..." her voice trailed off. "...love everyone."

Yami blinked, impressed. Hmm... that sounds like someone else I know.

"Wow!!! That was amazing!!! You can even dehydrate the sea?!?! I've never seen anything like it!!" Julius had appeared out of nowhere and was practically vibrating with excitement. "Here... you deserve this!" He pulled out a gold star and handed it to his eager advisor.

"Hey! Old man!" Julius turned to see Yami stomping over, angry. "I thought Stars were only for Magic Knights? You can't just hand them out like that!"

"I'm the Wizard King, Yami, I can do what I want. And- er-" Julius laughed nervously. "Old?"

Yami rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Come on." He grabbed the girl's hand. "I'm going to teach you how to fish."

The afternoon was getting to it's end as Yami expertly baited the fishing hook, watched with eager eyes. "That's really cool... are you sure I'll be able to do it?"

"Sure. Here." Without any warning, Yami placed the pole in her hand and grabbed her by the waist, turning her around to face the sea. She let out a small sound of surprise at his strength, instantly blushing. "Here... just like this..." Yami gently took her wrist, guiding her movements. "Ready... go!"

With his help, she flung the pole forward, letting the hook sail through the air and plop into the water a few meters away. "There... that was a good cast."

"Really?" She beamed with pride. "Thank you, Yami!"

Yami felt his heart clench at the sight of her smile. It almost hurt, seeing her so happy... so happy that he was taking the time to teach her something. Yikes... I need to be careful. Something like this is so easily compromising me? He looked away to gaze at the sea. He still wasn't sure what exactly it was about her that he liked, other than her obvious good looks. She got excited about everything, something Yami couldn't be bothered to do himself. Maybe that was it... she couldn't be more than a few years younger than he was, yet she was so much more lively and optimistic... maybe I don't just want her. I need her.

"Yami! Yami! I got one!" She started to desperately reel in the line as something large tugged at the hook. "Ah! It's strong!"

Yami quickly helped her, letting her do the reeling while he steadied the pole. "That's it... just a little longer..."

With one last harsh tug, she ripped the fish out of the water and sent it sailing onto land, where it flopped around pathetically. She squealed with delight. "Yami! It's a shark! I caught a shark!"

Indeed, it was a shark. Yami winced as she just went ahead and picked it up. It's jaws snapped, but there was no way it could bite her from its position. "Wow... your first time fishing, and you catch a shark? I wonder if that's a good omen..." He raised his gaze back to her face, seeing how she was smiling up at him again. ...maybe I should say something... I'll tell her that seeing her so happy makes me happy? No... just say that she has a beautiful smile-

She spun around gleefully once with the shark before cupping her hand in her mouth. "Lord Julius! Come look at this!!!" she yelled.

Yami winced at her words. "Wait, there's something I wanted to-"

Julius was already sprinting over at the sound of her voice. "Ah! What on earth- you caught that?!" Julius's eyes were nearly bulging out of his head. "That was swimming around out there... when I was?" He eyed the shark's sharp teeth.

"No, they really only come close to shore at night," Yami explained bluntly, a little annoyed that his advances had been snuffed out before they began. "Here, give me the shark, I'll boil it down and make shark soup for dinner tonight."

The girl blinked, taking in his words. "...boil it?" she said slowly. She looked down at the shark, then back up at Yami, then at the shark, then at Yami...

Uh oh.

Then she burst into tears.

"I-I- I'm sorry Yami! I don't want it to die! It's such a b-beautiful shark, and so elegant and strong, I couldn't possibly eat it! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Yami had no idea how to deal with a crying woman and started to panic. "Ah- er- hey, quit crying! It's fine, don't worry about-"

He suddenly realized that Julius was glaring at him uncharacteristically. "Look what you did, Yami! Making her cry? You're not going to make her eat this shark, are you?"

Hey! Stop making this worse! Yami thought to himself. "NO! I mean-" He turned back to her. "Hey, calm down, I was joking, alright? We can release the shark."

She sniffed but stopped crying. "...oh..." She even laughed a little. "A joke? I see... sorry, I didn't mean to break down like that..."

"It's fine. Here." He pointed at the ocean. "Why don't you let it go."

The shark squirmed out of her hands the moment she lowered it into the water, streaking off into the depths. She sighed and straightened up before turning to the two men behind her. "Thanks for teaching me how to fish, Yami! I'm going to go get some ice cream!"

... she looks very beautiful in the sunset.

With one last wave, she ran off down the beach, two pairs of eyes following her. Yami sighed heavily, then heard Julius chuckle. "You really aren't very tactful, Yami."

"Hmm? What would you know about that?" Yami asked, eyeing the older man suspiciously.

Julius just smiled cryptically. "Five people, all going after the same girl..." He shook his head a little. Yami didn't know why Julius knew about that, but then again, Julius knew about everything. Despite being a pain, Yami respected the man, and if he had any advice, he wanted to hear it. "Be careful not to get too caught up in the game. There's no guarantee that she'll pick any of you, come Three-Leaf day."

... he's right. She might be happier alone than with any of us. "You're going to have to really impress her. But I'm sure you'll do something interesting!" Julius started to walk away, raising his hand in a simple goodbye. "See you, Yami. Or would you like to get some ice cream, too?"

Yami blinked, thinking about his advice. That's right, I need to knock her off of her feet... I don't know if my Tanto knife is enough... "No, I'll pass."

"Your loss!" Julius turned away and took off down the beach, leaving Yami alone with a lot on his weary mind.

#black clover #writing #three Leafed chaos #fuegoleon vermillion #yami sukehiro #charlotte roselei #jack the ripper #nozel silva #x reader #julius novachrono

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uppastthejelliclemoon · 4 years ago

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Fun facts about Hestia

It’s been a year since I officially started posting about my girl and established her story, so I thought I’d share some fun little facts about when I started creating her!

- She originally started off as a human named Evelyn.

- I started creating her as a Hogwarts/Cats crossover, which was incidentally the first Cats story I started writing back in June of 2019.

- She was originally supposed to be Tugger and Mistoffelees’ human owner, then I started developing a relationship between them that I thought would reflect better as a parent/child relationship, so I started making her into a Jellicle OC.

- Pouncival was originally her love interest.

- The ghost siblings and Serafina were never supposed to be a major aspect or major characters, and now they’ve become some of my favorite characters that I’ve ever created!

- Hestia originally didn’t have much magic, maybe some sparkles and a bit of lightning now and then.

And a few facts about things that happened after I created her:

- Her pocket watch that’s referenced a bunch of times is something Tumblebrutus gave to her in an RP between myself and @queen-with-the-quill that just happened to stick.

- She also has a bracelet that Tumblebrutus also gave her that Mistoffelees enchanted so that they can feel each other’s emotions.

- The kittens that she and Tumblebrutus eventually have are named Anthea and Charon.

- Charon is the oldest, and has more of his mother’s shy temperament, but adores spending time with his Papa Misto and Auntie Sek, and he learns to channel his magic through dance.

- Anthea is the baby, and is definitely the energetic ball of fluff, taking after her dad and Uncle Pounce, but loves being with her Grandpa Tugs and Aunt Jojo, and channels her magic through her voice.

- Both have their mother’s magic, but different versions of it; Anthea has the “life” version of it, being able to manipulate plants, and her magic is mainly fueled by her emotions. Charon’s magic has more to do with energies and auras, being able to see the auras of all beings around him, including the dead, why Hestia chose to name him after Hades’ ferryman.

(yes, Hestia inherited her mother, her aunt’s, and her fathers’ need to name their children after Greek gods and goddesses. do not judge her.)

so yeah! there are some facts about Hestia from when I first started creating her!

And here’s some mushy stuff because I’m feeling mushy and happy today:

I can’t believe it’s been a year since I started posting about her. She’s grown so much, and yeah, I know I’m being sappy, but I’m truly so thankful to all of you for being so welcoming to her, and for loving her as much as I love her.

@queen-with-the-quill thank you for not only giving me the confidence to share Hestia with the Cats fandom, but for also giving Hestia the absolute greatest friend in the entire world and for giving her the best adopted sister ever (and, even though neither of us knew it at the time, for giving me one of my best and closest friends!!)

And I have to give a special thank you to everyone who’s made OCs who are also Tuggoffelees kids, and who have included her as their OCs’ sister, ESPECIALLY (Chaos) Calliope, Fabre, Ziggy, Sekhmet, Ares, and Persephone, who are the absolute BEST siblings that Hestia could ever have <3

And, of course, to the OCs who have had Hestia as a friend: Dorsey, Traven, (and Dejinti! because we love the Macavity Kids Club!), (Story) Calliope, Browrey, Mercury, Zararyia, and so many other wonderful OCs.

I can’t wait to make more content about Hestia!!

#hestia the hearth cat #cats the musical #cats the musical oc #oh gosh now i'm emotional

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austyncroft · 5 years ago

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rough days break barriers

who: Austyn Croft & Logan Croft ft. Remy Croft & Case Croft

when: 2/23/20 - All Day ; Mostly Evening

where: Croft Residence

what: Austyn has a really rough day, Logan realizes he’s not given his aunt a fair shot. Austyn learns some new stuff about her nephew she didn’t know.

warnings: mentions of drug abuse and death

notes: feelings.

It had just been one of those days. Even eight months on, people still called the house, for whatever reason, looking for Ben or Chris. She’d gotten one of those calls entirely too early in the morning, her coffee barely poured. And once again she’d had to explain that they were both deceased. That had been the start to her day. And it’d only seemed to run further downhill from there.

Remy had woken in rare form, high energy and high rage. Like a chihuahua. It was like he just sensed the pain and ran with it. She did her best to juggle his mood with Case’s homework troubles and keeping her own soured mood from reaching through. She didn’t have the luxury of getting upset. So, she pressed on as best she could. Around lunch time she managed to get Remy under control, Logan had, thankfully, more experience with the troubles Case was having and had taken over, giving Austyn about thirty minutes of alone time to try and get her shit together,

After lunch, the chaos began again. Remy and Case got into a fight over something minimal that exploded to the point of Austyn strong arming the both of them to keep them apart. She’d given them both timeouts as she cleaned up the mess they’d made of the living room. Logan, for his part, was in his room doing whatever it was he did all day. She kinda assumed he was doing homework, since he really was dedicated to his school work, his teachers had praised him highly whenever she spoke with them. Either way, he was keeping out of her hair and as much as it hurt her to think about it, she was thankful. And besides, if he was in his room he wasn’t out being stupid. That counted for something, right?

Approaching dinner it seemed like things calmed down. Logan had reemerged and was sitting in the living room showing Case some guitar tutorials on his laptop, something she wasn’t even sure Case had asked for, but was enjoying nonetheless. Remy was quietly doing a puzzle that he’d gotten for his birthday and Austyn was thankful for the peace. It let her breathe, something she’d been struggling to do all day. However, of course dinner would change that. Remy didn’t want to put his puzzle away to eat dinner. Case had, in a misguided attempt to help, done it for him. Which had set off a temper tantrum that resulted in violence. Which meant Austyn had, had to take a kicking and screaming five year old away from the dinner table as Logan helped get ice for where Case had been hit.

Things hadn’t exactly gotten any better after dinner, either. Remy was still putting up a fight about everything, from bath time, which he normally loved, to bed time. If this was just the start of fucking Mercury in Retrograde she wasn’t ready for what the rest of the time was going to mean. Even still, once she’d gotten him to bed, there was a better feeling in the air. Except Case was also a damn handful when it came to bedtime, because of course she just had to be.

By the time Case was down, Austyn had no energy left to keep up her defenses. Logan was still up, but she didn’t care, she needed to be alone. So, she’d gone to her room and she’d let herself break.

Logan had been awake when his aunt had taken the call that morning. He wasn’t sleeping well, but he knew his aunt used the mornings as her own personal time, before the chaos of the day. Her own buffer to the world she’d thrown herself into for him and his siblings. He’d heard the way she explained things, voice wavering with each word the longer she was kept on the call. He’d heard the way she’d talked to herself after. She was tired and he couldn’t blame her.

When his siblings had started the day in rare form, he watched on in amazement as his aunt never once took out what he knew she was feeling on them. He’d helped Case with her homework, so his aunt could catch a break, even if it was a short one. After lunch he’d retreated to his room, unable to stand the shouting and fighting of his siblings and not wanting to get in his aunt’s way, the woman had enough on her hands. Besides, he had his own things to do. Homework, some personal projects, just stuff to keep himself busy.

One of those projects was for Case. He’d gotten a bunch of video tutorials together for her, because she was really wanting to learn some new songs and he knew his aunt didn’t have the time to learn them to be able to teach them. Though, he knew she wanted to, which counted for a lot, but she didn’t need that extra hassle. She barely had time to herself as it were and if she was learning stuff for Case she’d have even less. He’d seen the way his fathers had done what they needed to, to give each other time while still caring for them. He hadn’t seen his aunt take any time for herself outside of the occasional date with Miss Corcoran.

He’d done his best to help his aunt with his siblings all day, even when that meant retreating into his room to get out of her hair, but when he’d watched her retreat to her room after putting Case to bed, he felt bad, She was staying in the guest bedroom and it was his fault. His fathers’ bedroom door locked from both sides and he had the key. For eight months he’d kept it locked, preserving it as the only room in the house that his aunt couldn’t get into. As if he thought she’d ruin it by using it. He was selfish, scared she’d try and replace his dads, and when Remy and Case had called her ‘mama’ he’d felt betrayed, like they were betraying the men who’d raised them. Even still, watching the way his aunt worked, trying so hard to just keep herself together long enough, maybe she deserved a little more than he was giving her.

Logan went into the kitchen and made a couple mugs of hot chocolate from his stash on the top shelf of the pantry, the kind he’d gotten for his birthday that only he was allowed to drink. Once they were made he’d dropped entirely too many mini marshmallows on top of each one plus some whipped cream and carefully made his way to the guest bedroom. He knocked gently on the door before pushing it open, watching as his aunt scrambled to not be obviously crying when she realized she wasn’t alone.

Austyn hadn’t heard the knock on the door but she’d heard it open. The last thing she’d expected was to see Logan standing there holding two mugs piled high with whipped cream. She did her best to gather her wits about her, even as he made his way over to the bed, setting the mugs down.

“Can I join you?” He’d asked quietly and Austyn had just nodded, still wiping at her eyes.

Logan took a seat on the bed next to his aunt and wordlessly passed her a mug of hot chocolate. He’d used his dad’s favorite mug, it was one his aunt had sent him from Japan while she’d been stationed there.

“Thanks, kid.” She’d whispered as she took the mug. She recognized this mug. She’d sent it to Ben, years ago, while she’d been stationed in Japan. Except she hadn’t seen it in the cabinets and she’d looked. Some part of her had figured one of the kids had knocked it onto the floor and it’d broke at some point and Ben just hadn’t told her.

“I’m sorry.” Logan started, staring into his mug.

“What for?”

“I- You live here and you don’t even have your own room, not really. That’s my fault. This room is smaller than mine, and I made you live here.”

“Logan, what do you mean?”

“I locked their room.”

Austyn looked over at her nephew, studying the way he stared down into his mug, fingers around the handle going white as he gripped it. He was shaking, the threat of tears obvious. And her heart ached. Setting the mug on the opposite nightstand, she wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders.

“So what? I’ve lived in apartments smaller than this room. I’ve lived without my own room before, a lot. This room is fine.”

“But you deserve better! I was selfish! I- I-” He was crying now, but he seemed to not want to acknowledge it. Not that Austyn could blame him. She gently took the mug from him and placed it on the bed side table, before pulling him against her.

“You’re allowed to be selfish, Logan. You’re allowed to not want me in their space. Okay? I know I’m an outsider here. I’m never gonna be them and I don’t want to be. I’m here because y’all deserved to know you were loved, because you are.”

Logan didn’t say anything but she could feel the way he tense, in her arms. The anger at himself that was bubbling just below the surface, the way he refused to lash out at her. She wrapped her arms around him tighter, pressing kisses to the top of his head.

“You don’t have to hold yourself together for my sake, kid. I’m the adult here, not you. And, thank you, for everything today. You didn’t have to do any of that, it’s not your responsibility. But I do appreciate it.” She whispered into his hair, and she felt him really start to cry. His hands balled into her shirt and she rocked him gently, humming quietly.

Somewhere along the way, Austyn started crying too. She buried her face in his hair, whispering apologies to someone, but she wasn’t sure who. Eventually, they’d both stop and Austyn would wipe the tears from his eyes with a kiss to his forehead.

“If you’re gonna wear eyeliner, you really need to get some that’s waterproof.” She’d choked out with a laugh at the smudged makeup under his eyes. He huffed but smiled as he sat up, pulling the string he wore from around his neck and holding it out to her. It was the key to the master bedroom. She took it gently and put it around her own neck. She wasn’t really sure she was ready to face what was on the other side of that door. “Thank you.” She wiped her own eyes and then grabbed the mug he’d brought her from the bedside table. The whipped cream hadn’t yet melted into it all the way and she smiled as she took a sip, getting whipped cream right up her nose.

“Yeah?” He laughed, following his aunt’s actions.

“Yeah, if you’re gonna cry or sweat the last thing you want is to look like a raccoon. It’s a statement, but it’s not one anyone really wants to be making. Maybe next weekend we can hit up the mall? Get you some stuff that works. I can even ask Darcy for suggestions if the eyeliner isn’t all you want.” She smiled. “You’ve got something on your nose, kid.” She chuckled, wiping it off with the tip of her finger.

“Really?” He seemed shy but was quickly scrunching his nose and pulling away from Austyn. “So do you!” And he did the same thing to her.

“Yeah, why not? If anyone is gonna have makeup recs it’s gonna be the queen of fashion herself. Lord knows I couldn’t help you pick out good makeup if my life depended on it. And your dads would want you to express yourself however you felt most comfortable. So I do too.” She took another sip of the hot chocolate. “So, tell me about you. You’re the only one I haven’t figured out. And kid, I’m worried about you.”

Logan sat there quietly for a while, not sure how to respond. So, instead, he just drank his hot chocolate and thought about it.

“Worried about me?” Was what he finally managed.

“Yeah. You just remind me of when I was your age, except I was into a lot of illegal shit. I don’t know if Ben ever told you about the kind of kid I was, how much like your uncle Landon I was.” She sighed, looking down into her mug. “That’s the last thing I want for you.”

“I’m not- I…” He hadn’t necessarily been dabbling but he’d be lying if he hadn’t been thinking about it.

“Look, I can’t relate to you and what you’ve lost, I know that. But just be careful what you let yourself get wrapped up in, okay? And if you do get mixed up with shit, know you can always tell me, okay? I don’t care what it is. I’m not going to judge you for it, cos I can guarantee I’ve done worse.” She looked over at him with a smile.

“Okay.” He nodded before looking back down into his mug. “What did you want to know?”

“What’re you into? Like, what do you like to do for fun?”

“Uh, art? Writing? I don’t know.”

“Okay, what kind of art? What do you like to write about?”

“Drawing, mostly. Charcoal work. Anything? Poetry, mostly. I like creative stuff.”

“Maybe one of these days you’ll show me some of your work? Guitar is about as creative as I get. And even then, I’m not that great, even now. You into, like, video games or any of that?”

“Maybe.” Logan shrugged, knocking shoulders gently. “You play guitar really well though? Like…” He laughed a little. “Not really? I mean, I like anime and stuff but I’ve never really gotten into video games. My dads never really exposed me to them because they didn’t play.”

“Okay fine, it’s decent. But that’s all you’re getting out of me.” She laughed, taking another sip. “Makes sense. We were never video game kids, we grew up on a farm and didn’t necessarily have the money, or the time, for them. But I was thinking of getting like a PS4 or a Switch for the house, just cos it’d give us another way of entertaining ourselves. Y’know?”

“You were?”

“Yeah, thought we could use something that might bring us together a little more, as a family, that wasn’t too difficult for Remy but would be boring for me and you. What do you think?”

“You’d do that?” Logan seemed completely dumbfounded.

“How about this, I’m sure there’s a Game Stop at or near the mall, why don’t we go there and see what we can find? Make a family trip of it. I’ll see if Shelby wants to come along so you don’t have to constantly help me keep an eye on Remy and Case.”

“Okay. Yeah, sure.”

“So, tell me about anime. Like, what kind do you like?”

“Uh, just kinda like everything? I mean I’m not necessarily big on like the really violent ones, but I usually give them a shot. You might like Cells at Work, it’s cute and medical but also has action. Or Black Butler. I mean, if you wanted to watch any.”

Austyn smiled as Logan spoke, nodding slightly. “Which one do you like best?”

“Huh?”

“Which anime do you like best? If you had to pick one anime to show everyone, what anime would it be?”

Logan thought for a while. “Black Butler. For sure.”

“Cool. It on Netflix or?”

“The first season is on Netflix. Seasons 2 and 3 are not. Cos they’re not really connected? Like, they each have an ending. But they all don’t necessarily make sense.”

“Okay, well, I’ll let you know what I think.”

“Really?!”

“I watch cartoons with Remy and I play guitar with Case. Maybe anime can be our thing? I’m willing to give it a shot, at the very least.”

They’d continue talking, Logan telling Austyn where she could find anime and even manga, if she was looking to read any of it, until they’d finished their hot chocolate. They’d then bid each other goodnight, Austyn washing their mugs out and then getting to researching.

#p: self #p: s001 #p: all #about: rebel logan #about: made in gods image just a better version #about: family first

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cerastes · 6 years ago

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Something I wanted to ask you a few days ago but then you suddenly actually fucked off to the South Pole: Can I ask about your tabletop characters? I know there's Rasmus and a someone named Lisbeth, I think? Do you have more? I'm always up and eager to hear about fruits born from your disaster head.

I do not have more, it’s those two, my beautiful shit children. Rasmus is for my DnD game and Lisbeth is for my Fate Core game. It’d be A PLEASURE to regale you with The Lore:

If you’ve read my tabletop blogging posts, and you likely have given you’re asking about the good ol’ lovable Human Rogue, then you’re already somewhat familiar with Rasmus Kasper Istre. A 24 year old charlatan and swindler through and through, back in his port hometown, Rasmus was a notorious “fortune teller” that scammed many tourists and merchants, an act made easier by the innate superstitious nature of sailors, and while his daggers are sharp, it’s his creativity that cuts deeper, fighting being his very last option as he will always attempt to fool, sabotage and trick others first, only brandishing harm if there’s no other choice. In stark contrast with his enthusiasm when it comes to taking money from others, Rasmus is vehemently opposed to taking lives unless it’s on self-defense or if the one relinquishing their life deserves it, a philosophy he sticks to even if it bites him in the ass. This is, in fact, what triggers his escape from his town: He swindled the riches right out of a big-time Elf magnate, disabled his bodyguard that came gunning for him some time later and even had the perfect chance to off him, yet refused to do so because, as he learned during his time hiding from him, the magnate is actually a really honest if grumpy guy who treats his subordinates fairly and with love, and he’s not about to take that life, opting instead to hit the road. He used to dual wield daggers, but lost one of the daggers during a sky-high encounter with wyvern riders, using an enchanted gauntlet imbued with lightning in the spur of the moment to fight with fist and blade, and he liked how it worked out, so now he uses the lightning gauntlet to deliver close-range blasts and electric grapples with the left hand while his deft dagger whistles with each swipe and lunge of his right. To not inconvenience himself and others, he wears a half cape draped over his left arm so he can touch things and people without thundershocking them or having to remove the gauntlet and risk being ambushed (wearing a glove in the middle of a fight is kinda hard!). He loves wearing cologne, especially one made with ghostshroom extract that he makes himself. People hate the strong smell of it at first but it sort of grows into them like an acquired taste or Stockholm Syndrome, and his favorite foods are juniper berries and beef jerky. Rasmus is 177 centimeters tall, has curly light brown hair, dull green eyes, wears his beard as a stubble, and has an average, fit build. Do NOT call him “Kasper” unless you’re in the mood for a bar fight. Mostly wears leather armor and has a thing for the color green.

Rasmus is childhood friends with Claudia, the party’s Human Wizard, and the two often snipe at each other with affectionate vitriol, although their attempts to screw the other over with money are very real. No hard feelings, though, that’s what it meant to grow poor in a port town, it’s your fault if something is taken from you. He doesn’t always see eye to eye with the Halfling Ranger (Ranger is rather kill-happy, which doesn’t sit well with Rasmus), and is buddy-buddy with the Orc Barbarian, especially when brothels and taverns are concerned. He currently is invested in helping the Orc Barbarian with his character arc whenever he can, as well as furthering his own Money Quest after accidentally starting a religion, the Solar Sect (it’s a long story). After enough deeds, the party received the blessings from Phantom Animal Lords from the wilderness, with Rasmus’ title being “Rabbit”; This is an inside joke referring to how my DM and the rest of my DnD group call Rasmus “Bugs Bunny” due to his trademark outlandish and creative ways of setting up the board to the party’s advantage and problem solving. Among his faithful, he is known as the Augur-spoken Prophet, and it’s really, really spiraling out of control. Initially, Rasmus and Claudia were supposed to hate each other, but Claudia’s player and I, IRL friends since a long time now, decided to make them shitlord friends instead. We were very involved with the creation of both characters and develop them continuously together now. Check the “Rasmus” tag in my blog for more anecdotes of his balls to the walls DnDventures.

Some of his deeds include:

Killing a seemingly unkillable hero by teleporting him high into the sky and letting gravity do the work, using a circumstantial item.

Strapping the corpse of said unkillable hero to a greatshield and creating an extremely powerful shield for our Barbarian to use whenever we need some nigh invulnerability.

Accidentally started a religion when he was accused of high heresy because he defiled the corpse of a hero by turning him into a shield.

Flirting with an Elf Priestess that turned out to be the magnate’s niece.

Flirting with her further anyway.

Naked Parkour in the Elf capital.

Wrapped his phony crystal ball with a chain and used it as an impromptu weapon after being disarmed, cracking a Chaos Dwarf’s skull with a nat 20 swing.

Earned the ‘Rabbit’ title, which apparently only happens once around every 3000 years, as the Rabbit Phantom Animal Lord is capricious and her favor only goes to those cheeky and cunning enough to both amuse her and impress her. Of all those, he’s apparently the second Human to ever have earned the title. Rasmus wears it with pride.

–

The other is Lisbeth Elstad. Now, you’re no doubt thinking to yourself “Wow! No one has a name like that!” And you’re right! Consider that a stage name, or a pseudonym, if you will. In a setting that takes place in the real world after magic and everything from beyond turned out to be real and has suddenly become widespread public knowledge, 19 year old Lisbeth is incredibly inept at even the most basic magic tasks with two exceptions: Mana Layering, the act of creating sheets, layers, and shells of mana, and Alchemy, the ability to turn one thing into another through meticulous formulas and the Law of Equivalent Exchange. In addition to this narrow scope, Lisbeth has always found it oddly easy when it comes to assembling explosives ranging from homebrew fireworks to high-yield plastic explosive custom formulas such as batches of SEMTEX and C4. Finally, Lisbeth is a natural woman of science, a passionate love for biology, physics and chemistry pulsating within her noodle, unfit body. You could say she’s a Human Alchemist/Bombardier of some sort, but her most heartfelt wish is to become a doctor and pharmaceutic. Now, this probably paints the image of a kind, earnest girl that just wants to help out with a smile, right? Well! That’s not quite it! As noble as she sounds, Lisbeth is quite the thug otherwise. Think of her less as a friendly doctor in the making and more of a really shady back alley doc that looks like she came right out of a The Misfits music video. She tries, oh, lord she does, to come across as classy, eloquent, and elegant, but no matter how much Calvin Klein “One” you spray on a rabid boar, it is still a rabid boar, and as soon as her very little threshold of patience is usurped, the elegant business front crumbles and the reality of a violent, easily angered busybody who happily solves her problems with rocks to the back of the head and high yield explosives lays bare. She’s the foster daughter of a famous nomadic mercenary leader known as the Mercury Witch, leader of the White Silhouette, and worked on board their craft as assistant doctor, with the Witch forbidding Lisbeth of taking part on any training that might foster her latent violent tendencies in hopes of mellowing her out. One day, however, they took on a job in which Lisbeth and her mentor, Melicia, ended up unwittingly making REALLY Bad Drugs instead of the Good Medicine they thought they were making for supernatural creatures, Lisbeth found out, they found out she found out, shit hit the fan, everyone’s MIA.

Not much to say about her yet otherwise, as the game is still in its preliminary phase. Instead, I can tell you about the scrapped 27 year old version of Lisbeth that I heavily modified after we discussed things and realized I had to make her much younger for it to make sense with certain aspects of the plot. This version of Lisbeth is still very much the same in terms of abilities, but has quit the White Silhouette on her own terms and roams around as a masked vigilante that aids supernatural beings oppressed by humans and as a doctor that helps supernatural beings for free. Most of her time is devoted to finding locations that traffic supernaturals or pits them in underground arena fights and dismantles them with the superior firepower and flair of plastic explosives and some good ol’ infiltration. During her time in France, she was suddenly attacked by a girl in traditional Japanese priestess attire, inciting what nearly was a deathmatch between the two of them. As the mystery girl realized Lisbeth wasn’t her target, however, she immediately stopped and apologized. The girl, named Yamaoka Keiko, is a prophet and descendant of the Blind Dragons who could see the future. The problem, she explained, was that her eyes were stolen and replaced with ones that can see, and she hates it. She’s looking for whoever it is stole her blind, silver eyes to claim them back and go back to her peaceful, beloved life of comfortable darkness and peace back in her shrine. Lisbeth, however, seems to have a clue about who it could be that can steal and switch something like eyes without any difficulty, and believing this to be fate as well as her responsibility indirectly, offers to travel with Keiko in search for her eyes. The two become good friends over the course of 18 months of traveling together in this adventure, but Keiko takes an extremely grave wound one day and is left unable to move for a good while, even with all of Lisbeth’s medical knowledge. Finding herself alone and unsure of Keiko’s future, Lisbeth decides to join the official magic law enforcement outfit that she hates in order to gain access to their information network. I’ll probably use this version of Lisbeth for other things, since I don’t wanna scrap it, bwahaha, probably with Glock Elf and TechSlime (and same with Keiko).

Regardless of her version, Lisbeth has an intravenous hose installed inside of her arms that leads to a “cauldron” in her torso, utilizing “internal alchemy” to transform proteins and cells into other chemicals, which she then expels through holes on the palms of her hands. This way, she can spray, say, napalm out of her hands. Since she has absolutely no competence at all in the art of magic but has an innate talent when it comes to chemistry and alchemy, she instead “fakes” magic by creating concoctions with her knowledge. Lisbeth stands at 176 centimeters, has a lanky, thin physique, and wears silver contacts (which is why Keiko thought she had her eyes) and hair dyed a very light creamy blonde. She wears classy suits and long-skirted jumper dresses for the most part, with an Orthrus (two-headed wolf) pelt draped over her shoulders, both heads dangling off her left shoulder. Her choice of attire and appearance, much like her pseudonym, are all part of her “business front”. Despite her bluster, she’s rather cowardly, but also extremely resolute. Lisbeth is the kind of character that would usually be the NPC Shopkeeper that sells you potions and charges you a small fee to fully heal your party, but circumstance has thrown her right into the adventurer’s shoes, and now she has to deal with it crying, screaming, and complaining, but hey, at least she gets to put her knowledge of bombs to good use!

#rasmus #lisbeth #tiza #long post #whoops I gone and made a wall without meaning to

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forasecondtherewedwon · 6 years ago

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There would be a joke here about interrupting your regularly scheduled programming, but what even is that on this blog anymore? Je ne sais pas.

I wrote a fic for yet another fandom because I don’t know how to stay in just one! So, if anyone watches Deadly Class...

Rats’ Waltz

Rating: E (NSFW BELOW THE CUT) Pairing: Petra Yolga/Billy Bennett Chapters: 1/1

‘The Lady in Red’ played itself out and Petra let her arms slide down from Billy’s shoulders. His eyes darted nervously and he clasped a hand around his opposite wrist, throttling it. She wondered what was going through his mind. She’d always thought she’d known, before, but it was so different with him here in front of her. His words, the way he’d said he loved her, were easy to brush off; dismissing Billy and everything he was… that would be impossible after they’d danced, holding each other like that. If she wasn’t careful, he was going to figure out that she had a heart after all.

“How do I look?” she asked, watching his face steadily as his gaze zoomed down the length of her dress and shot back up to her eyes. It was mercury in a thermometer plunged into boiling water. It was the last ride on a condemned rollercoaster.

Billy’s laugh came out mostly through his nose.

“Like a princess.”

Petra pinched his bicep, hard, and he flinched away, almost dancing again, but more like the frantic, mosh pit shit that he and Lex practiced. The kind of dancing that god intended the populous to headbang along to.

“We could burn it off,” Billy suggested excitedly, fishing from his back pocket the lighter that had recently unleashed Lex’s pyrotechnic mayhem on the sky over Kings.

“Ah,” Petra halted him. She laid a soothing hand over Billy’s jittery one. “Good in theory, but I’m pretty sure one of those Sweet Home Ala-bitches got me with a blast of hairspray, and I’d rather my head didn’t go up in flames.”

She raised her hands level with her temples and made an exploding gesture, complete with sound-effect. Billy lowered his chosen instrument of chaos and Petra watched his nimble fingers push it deep into a front pocket of his pants. His hands were nice; she hadn’t really noticed that before. Then again, the chunky cast on his forearm generally arrested the eye.

Billy shifted, jumpy and overactive, and let out a giddy laugh.

“Me too, unless it’s metaphorically. I support your punk-given right to be a rage monster.”

Petra offered a tender half-smile.

“You had that handled tonight. You stood up for me.”

“It was retribution,” Billy said, sounding psycho-tough and stabbing a pointed index finger at the floor.

“It was anarchy.” Petra grinned. “And it was beautiful.”

He jerkily shrugged his shoulders.

“What’s a Rat got ‘cept other Rats?”

She nodded.

“You look out for your own. Your own,” Petra repeated, fainter, and reached up to cup Billy’s cheek.

He was too soft―not his face, though she doubted he’d ever shaved out of necessity―believing that she wouldn’t yell sike! or pull some other shit to punish the trust in his eyes. After she’d already hurt him, hurt him on purpose at Shabnam’s party. She was clearly bad for him and he was bad for her, a bad alliance in a place like this, not exactly hell, but maybe the clammy space between hell’s toes.

She kissed him because that seemed like a better idea than waiting to see if he’d do it first.

Billy pulled her back in, following her with his mouth when a breath snuck between them. Petra could feel him shaking, but she didn’t exactly know how to touch him. Damn green-mohawk’d livewire. He was so the opposite of casual.

“You’ve done this before, right?” she checked, drawing her face back from his.

“This this?” He puckered his lips to demonstrate kissing. Petra’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh,” Billy said, “this. Yep.” His vigorous nodding told Petra he’d caught on.

Yes, she meant sex, and yes, she knew he wasn’t a virgin. The way she’d asked probably made her seem like she didn’t know, but shit, it was supposed to have come out ringing with mockery, not soft and insecure. Ugh, she sounded tragically preteen.

“Aren’t you going to ask me?” she snapped at him.

Billy’s jaw tightened and Petra felt the whole scene teeter at the edge of a cliff she hadn’t known they were on. He’d say something about Viktor and then she’d get defensive and shut him out and then he’d get frustrated by the ineffectiveness of the way he always tried to break down her emotional walls with a battering ram even though this had never worked in their entire history and then―

“Do you… have something to contribute?” Billy asked, rocking on his heels.

Petra got her nostrils to un-flare from her pre-emptive surge of anger.

“I haven’t,” she said shortly. Less words meant less room for feelings to leak out of the corners of her mouth like drool when the dentist took too long prodding at your molars. Jesus, when had she last been to a dentist?

Billy’s features showed exaggerated confusion: forehead rumpled like bedsheets, eyes wild, etc. Petra sighed.

“Done this,” she clarified, her eyes careful on his. “Not with anyone who mattered.”

“Viktor was…?”

“There. He was there. Frankly, I’d rather get the taste of him out of my mouth sooner than later. Metaphorically,” Petra added when something caught fire behind Billy’s eyes.

“Look, we can forget all about what I said before, ok?” His confession at Shabnam’s was what Petra took this to mean. Billy laughed awkwardly, self-consciously. “Things don’t have to be that intense between us, but I also don’t wanna be mouthwash.”

“It came out wrong,” she admitted, inexplicably pissed at herself for having to apologize for something. “You wouldn’t be mouthwash.”

“Well… good,” Billy decided. “I’m a person, Petra.”

“You’re a cold-blooded lizard-man if you don’t shut up and kiss me again soon.”

“Shit,” he laughed, hesitantly cupping the sides of her head like he thought she might knee him in the nuts. Honestly, it still wasn’t completely off the table. “I know you’re not exactly overflowing with emotions, but there is this thing called romance.”

“I don’t do romance.” She hoped her eyes hadn’t just gone as wide and dreamy as it felt like they had. Fuck.

“Guess that’s all on me then.”

As his face tilted towards hers, Petra anticipated a kiss that came down hard and hungry, like the one she’d given him. Apparently, that wasn’t how things went when Billy led. She should’ve learned from the dancing.

His lips brushed hers and something deep inside her jerked loose like a vending machine dropping a soda. Petra felt fizzy. Their mouths hadn’t fully connected when Billy’s tongue skated slickly along her lower lip. What the hell. She could feel this getting her wet; normally it took several minutes of her chosen paramour’s determined fingering (post- several minutes of her determined instructions) to do that. It was her body throwing her words back at her, a reminder that no one else she’d messed around with had mattered. What a disturbing revelation though. Not only did she have feelings for Billy, she was also hot for him. The hits seriously just kept on coming.

Moaning was inevitable when Billy’s tongue stroked fully along hers and dragged it back into his open mouth. Petra half-mourned the fact that the Nazi she-devils hadn’t played dolly right down to her underwear, because the ones she was wearing were still her own and they were going to be a bitch to hand-wash with bulk-bought soap in the communal ladies’ room. A soft “uh” sound found its way out of their interlocked mouths and her hands gripped the front of Billy’s shirt. Instead of pulling back the way Petra dreaded he might, he moved his hands down from her hair, rubbing the back of her neck. Thank god he hadn’t given her some innocent startled face. Not a good complement to how badly she wanted to ride his thigh.

Petra stayed close, pressing both palms to his chest. Well, what a pleasant surprise―this skittish little skateboarder had the gentle swell of non-steroid-enhanced muscle under here. Lean but firm. Felt like his body had adapted after so many rounds of combat class, even if his brain hadn’t. (Petra rarely saw him win a bout. He just wasn’t great at anticipating his opponents.) As she ran her hands across his chest over his t-shirt, Billy dropped his straight to her ass. Kind of amazing that he could find it under the fucking puffy dress. Petra assumed the credit went to some inherent ass-finding skill only present in teenage boys.

He pulled her in, which was when she felt his erection. Again, the dress had been deceptively puffy because, against Billy, all that fluff compressed in a manner usually only observed in spray-cheese. Petra’s heart thrummed and popped like a bassline.

“We can’t get caught,” she said, drawing back to give him a dead-serious look.

Billy rolled his eyes.

“No shit.”

“After the poisoned darts tonight, which we are definitely getting nailed for at some point, we can’t afford any more trouble from the Man.”

“Yeah, babe, talk socialist to me.” He chuckled, kissing her neck, but Petra pried him off. “Ok, ok! You’re right.”

“We can’t stay here,” she said, beginning with the obvious. “Somebody’ll be back to clean up once they get those lowlifes medical attention.”

“Can’t go to the dorms. Roommates.” His grasp on her ass loosened as he thought; it was kind of cute how Billy looked when he concentrated. Ugh, god, no. Focus on the problem, Petra.

“Plus someone would hear us and either go for snitching or blackmail.”

“Oh yeah? You think you’ll be loud?” He grinned.

“I may have left my weapons in my other ball gown, but I can still break you, Bennett,” she warned.

“Promise?”

Petra grabbed his hand and yanked, heading for the door. She stopped short of dislocating his shoulder, but she knew Billy got the message.

“So, where we goin’?” he hissed as they glanced left and right, slipping out into the hall.

“The Rats’ Nest.”

Dumb name―the bastard offspring of their group’s label and a ship’s crow’s-nest―and it had stuck since whichever Kings’ class hooligans had invented it. It was a room on the roof, where all the Rats hung out. Not a stairwell or storage, the rooftop shed was their pinnacle, their dirty confessional, their canvas for graffiti practice. Mostly, it was where guys got their first blowjobs and girls got their first sour taste of the patriarchy. It would do.

“Grim,” was Billy’s assessment. Petra wouldn’t and couldn’t argue, but it was what they had.

“Yeah, I won’t be lying on that floor. Hope missionary’s not your favourite position.”

“Have you wondered?” he asked sleazily as they climbed the stairs to the roof.

“No.” Yes. “But then again…” Petra glanced at Billy over her shoulder. “…everything about you screams ‘submissive,’ so maybe not missionary.”

He bounded up to get ahead of her, swinging the door open.

“Is that what you want?” Billy let the door close slightly so that she was delayed right next to him.

“What?” She was confused and it was better self-defence to wrap that confusion in barbed wire and come off irritated instead.

“Do you want me to be…” He glanced down, practically jumping in place as he bounced on the balls of worn sneakers. “…submissive? Is that what you like? Petra,” Billy said, suddenly staring her right in the eye, “tell me what you like.”

Her eyes widened in discomfort, almost giving her a headache, and she pushed past him, stepping out onto the roof. Clear night tonight. Not even a lingering hazy of smoke from the boys’ cheap firecrackers.

“Fuck off.”

“Ooh, you’re so scary.”

Billy danced around in front of her, walking backwards as she strode ahead.

“Why do you want both of us to feel like shit?” he prodded. “Downstairs… we were… We were getting somewhere, dammit. What do you want from me? You want me to like you, then hate you, then like you, then hate you! Do I have to say it again?”

“Just get in the Nest. I’ll blow you if you’re lucky,” she said dryly.

Billy backed into the little room’s door and crossed his arms.

“No. I love you.”

Petra sighed impatiently.

“You wanna get laid or not?”

“Be a bitch all you like,” he said. “I’m still going to make you see this is worth something. That’s why I want it to be good. You’re not helping yourself by putting that mask back on.”

She clenched her hands into firm fists, but when she went to hammer one into Billy’s chest, all the force went out of it. Her knuckles just barely dug into his skin. His heart pounded back from underneath. They didn’t stare at each other long before Billy surged forward and kissed her.

“I love you, Pet,” he mumbled against her mouth.

“A light touch,” she offered, meeting his eyes as he drew his face back to look at her. “I’m tired of being used and abused.”

“Light touch,” he confirmed. “Got it.”

Petra took one last look at the stars, then reached around where Billy had leaned away from the door and yanked it open by its stiff handle. They entered and he found a box filled with broken bottles to keep the door ajar for the luxury of late-night, city sign light and fresh air. It still smelled like beer and something even funkier, though thankfully not like urine as the only Rats nasty enough to piss up here (all males, go fucking figure) considerately did so off the edge of the roof, hitting the occasional unsuspecting pedestrian.

Billy was watching her and Petra felt insulated with him for the second time tonight, though the first had only been an illusion provided by the music.

“This is a good idea,” he told her.

“The best.”

They were kissing again and Billy was up to his old tricks, getting every little bit of feeling out of her lips and doing it as tenderly as possible. She was insane for liking him this way, Petra realized, because only liking him was going to make her life hell. It would torment her days, find her in her sleep. He’d be kissing her like this in her dreams, the prick. She knew he would.

His hands were gentle too. Clutching at her waist, but moving eagerly to her breasts when Petra tugged the top of her dress down. (Her attackers had declared that the black straps of the bra she’d had on completely ruined this wedding cake vision they’d made of her. Like the rest of her other outfit, she bet the bra was currently bobbing in a toilet bowl.) She wondered if guys could really be like this, on the condition that they were sufficiently surprised to be getting what they wanted…

Nah, they were trash. But not Billy. His hands were warm on her as they dug inside the dress and cupped her boobs. Petra inhaled sharply through her nose when his rough thumbs circled her nipples with inhumane slowness. Her breath came loud in the small space. It felt as though they were miles from the school, or anything.

Billy gave her a last, firm kiss on the mouth, then continued pressing them into her yielding skin; up under her jaw, down her throat. Her heart beat hard. Like a total amateur, Petra gave herself away by grabbing the back of Billy’s mohawk when he smoothly licked over her nipple, but he didn’t get aggressive. He was the perfect gentleman, if that’s what you called the spastic boy you took to the blowjob spot. He was her new definition, anyway.

“Touch me already,” she blurted.

He laughed.

“Just trying to do what you said.”

“I said light, not slow.”

“That’s part of the romance,” Billy informed her, hiking up the hem of her dress.

“It sucks.”

“Thank you.”

He ran his palms up the outside of her thighs and she got goosebumps. Trying to stay calm, Petra put her hands on his shoulders―a stabilizing gesture.

“You seem taller,” she said nervously. Billy just smiled in confusion.

His hands brushed very gently over her hips and the ratty black lace of her underwear. They were a little old, but Petra hadn’t seen any she liked as much as these, and she wasn’t just going to steal cheap ones. She had standards. Better standards for what went on her body than who went in her body, most of the time. But then, tonight, she was getting it on with Billy while wearing something so truly hideous that Petra would’ve tried to murder herself if she’d been someone else and seen her wearing it.

“You look really beautiful. Nothing to do with what they did,” Billy clarified, palms rubbing over her hips, dress frothed up outrageously between them, “just… your face.”

She exhaled as he snagged her panties around hooked fingers and dragged them down.

“Lift your feet,” he requested.

“Why?” she asked, already doing it.

“Well, it’s not like the ground’s spotless and these…” He bent and retrieve them as she stepped out. “…cover a pretty sensitive area.”

It was bizarrely intimate to see Billy holding her undergarments and Petra glared so as not to blush. Prick.

“What am I supposed to do with them now? I’m lacking the over-teased heap of chemically-enlarged hair that I assume Brandy uses to solve feminine problems such as these.”

Billy shrugged.

“I’ll keep ‘em,” he offered cheerfully, stuffing her wadded up underwear into the back pocket of his pants.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Just for right now.”

“Or longer.”

“For as long as you last,” she taunted.

“I will give you the opportunity to renegotiate possession after you’ve seen me last.”

Petra let out an exaggerated, sarcastic gasp.

“Gosh! Really?”

He smiled and then leaned into her, pinning her firmly to the wall. She was pretty sure Billy felt her smile when they kissed, so she bit his lip to balance the scales. Once again, he somehow knew she didn’t mean it and was not deterred. That was how Petra realized she hadn’t broken Billy’s heart properly back at the party. Or maybe she had and he was just a quick healer. The rough cast pressing into her shoulder was a decent reminder.

“When do you get this off anyway?” she asked, touching the cast, then grazing her fingers up the black sleeve covering his arm above it.

“You almost sound like you care,” he accused, grinning and raising his eyebrows. Petra gave him an acid look.

“I’m asking for the sake of my own comfort, dweeb. If we do this again, I don’t wanna feel your plaster digging into me. Shut up,” she said to his awed expression. “I said ‘if.’”

Billy smiled and went back to kissing her. Petra kept her mouth tense and unyielding, but only for a couple of seconds. If Frenching was the kind of thing they graded at this wacko school, this idiot might actually come top of the class. She gave up on just going through the motions and fully gave back to him everything he was giving her, her arms folded around the back of his neck. Billy moaned a little and tilted his hips into her.

“Go ahead,” she panted, breaking away.

He pulled his face back just far enough that her eyes didn’t un-focus when they looked into his. Lowering one hand, then the other, he bunched the skirt of the world’s ugliest dress back into position. She could feel the texture of his pants against her thighs, but he kept his hips back now. Staring steadily into his eyes, Petra leisurely unwrapped her arms from around him and caressed down the front of his army-green T-shirt. Billy shivered and she smirked a little. She popped his button and unzipped his fly without glancing away from his face. He, meanwhile, was doing an exemplary job of not ogling her boobs. The heat from his crotch was practically enough to toast a marshmallow by, but Petra didn’t touch him yet.

“You first,” she dared.

With a visible swallow, Billy fisted the material of her skirt in one hand and slipped the other beneath it. Tentative fingertips located the poke of her hipbone. She didn’t know if he was aiming high and right on purpose, or just curious about her. Petra wondered, for a second, what it would be like to have her entire body touched by him. She wondered how it would be to touch his. The Rats’ Nest was no place for total nudity, unless you wanted to see what kind of diseases you could contract.

She stepped one foot outward, then the other. Billy took a shaky breath and inched his fingers down to cup her. It nearly killed her―worse than being stabbed, poisoned, strangled, or any of the other shit that had been done during real fights or just over the course of gaining the stellar education Kings was supposedly providing. This absolutely asshole! With his unhurried tenderness and goddamn reverent expression. Petra’s head knocked back against the concrete wall. He hadn’t even done anything yet. This was all the mere fact of his hand’s position; feeling it and knowing it was there.

The large studs on the cuff around his wrist were cold when they made contact with her abdomen, but she was pleased to have him holding her closer, more securely. It was almost like claustrophobia―this light-headedness in a small space―as Billy’s seeking fingers spread arousal over her clit. Petra thought he might mock her for being so wet (it was something she might have done, to pierce the atmosphere choking her with meaningfulness). He didn’t.

If it was up to her to play the mean card, she’d have to make a crack about how hard he was already, how desperate. Except it wasn’t funny, even in a make-fun-of-him way, when Petra gripped Billy through his underwear. He let out a shuddering exhale, clamping his eyes closed and flashing them open again a second later.

“Could you lay off that for a second?” he requested, sounding a little lightheaded himself. “This is kinda already too good to be true, and I don’t want to prematurely ejaculate all over our, you know―”

“Romance,” they said at the same time. (His tone was a little less sarcastic than hers. Ok, a lot.)

Billy grinned and kissed her with a swift peck that bumped Petra’s skull against concrete. This was still Billy, after all. But then, yes, he did have some surprises.

“I hope your hands are clean,” she said seriously as she moved her fingers to his ragged belt loops and he rubbed a little faster across her clit.

“I went to the bathroom right before we stormed the dance, and I always wash my hands. I’m a classy guy.”

Petra snorted out air, but her inhale was all moan. He was hitting her just right. She hadn’t… she hadn’t even told him what to do. If he’d just stroke the tiniest bit to the left. God, he did it.

“What’s your secret?” she gasped.

“Huh?”

She shook her head to tell him nevermind, because she was coming, stretching up on her toes in the stupid shoes that were the only things between her feet and a dirty needle or ancient glob of gum. Billy rubbed more forcefully―and swore significantly more forcefully than that―to pull her through the orgasm and out the other side. Petra didn’t specifically remember closing her eyes, or letting her head slump forward to rest on Billy’s shoulder, but evidently, those things had happened, because here she was, breathing his scent off his T-shirt.

Slowly, he removed his hand, wiping his fingers on the ass of his pants. Petra’s eyes were wide now, staring hard at nothing as she kept her head down for a minute longer, mentally getting a hold of herself. He’d touched her lightly, like she’d said. He’d paid attention to her response and adjusted his technique (though it truly baffled her to think of Billy having a technique for anything―except maybe rolling a joint) accordingly. What could she do… what could she say to that?

“I lied,” Petra admitted. She raised her head and pushed her hair the correct amount off her face.

“Well,” Billy began, smoothing a hand down her arm, “if it’s about something that’s gonna tear my heart to pieces, could you maybe save the truth for later?”

“I like rough and fast,” she said, holding eye contact. “In the past, I’ve tended to be the dominant partner because guys see the black hair, and the black clothes, and the black makeup, and that’s who they want to think I am because they don’t give a shit about who I actually am. But I’m not some Goth fantasy who wants their sexual experiences to revolve around teasing out some asshole’s kinks―a surprising amount of time literally involving their assholes. And I hate light touches,” Petra added. “Usually. Except not with… I guess not with you.”

He was staring at her. He wouldn’t quit staring at her. She was going to have to drive the heel of her horrible shoe into the top of his foot. Then he did something worse than the staring. He said her name, softly.

“Petra.”

She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck like she had when they’d danced and kissed him. He held her―tight, then tighter. Something was surging inside her and it wasn’t the desire to maim that she constantly felt around almost every person inside the building they were standing on top of. This whole thing had been a very dangerous fever dream.

They were kissing fiercely and it terrified Petra, but it was a horror she wanted to wrap herself around. She tasted it, her tongue twined with Billy’s, and nothing had ever been sweeter. Restless, she twisted with and against him, getting her hands to his hips. They broke the kiss wetly and abruptly. Petra stretched the band of Billy’s underwear away from his abdomen, then yanked them and his jeans downward. He leaned back―just his upper body.

“You want me, take me,” she said. “I want you to.”

Billy nodded rapidly and Petra found herself nodding back. She was turning in his arms as he quickly lifted her heinous skirt again. His hand came around, feeling her waist, then dove down, seeking her from the front as his hot erection prodded from behind. With less reluctance than she would’ve had not high on lust, Petra slapped her hands to the well-tagged wall and tilted her hips back. Billy quickly drove in. He was blunt and spontaneous and he started to say something, but Petra reached back and covered his mouth. No apologies necessary for giving her this. She returned her hand to the wall as he dragged back out.

“Oh, Jesus, Petra.”

His breathing sounded shivery. He bucked forward and she stretched into the feeling. Finally, Billy gave up on keeping her dress out of the way and grasped her hips with both hands.

“Please,” whipped out of her mouth before she could press it into her arm. Arms were useful tools for self-defence, physical or verbal, but she didn’t want the first kind and the second had just failed her.

Billy thrust harder and Petra’s eyelids closed briefly as her eyes rolled back. On the next forward swing of his hips, she met him in time and they released an obscene duet of pleased moans. God, they’d circled each other for so long―him: bouncing up and down, her: still and largely silent. Now, Petra considered that she shouldn’t think so harshly about his neglect to anticipate attacks. She’d been blind here. Blind, blind, blind.

She struggled to keep her eyes open. Her nerves were catching and sparking like exposed wiring, hands tensing into fists before she flattened her palms back out on the wall. Billy was in the grips of his desire. He had one arm wrapped firmly around her waist, holding her body to his, and the other making the descent to her clit, which was not so easy now that he was pounding into her, shaking them both. Petra felt his hip bones when he thrust inside and held himself there for a long second. It seemed like he was pushing as hard as he could, feeling all of her, every time. Her spine felt like he’d scratched a match straight down the length.

There was a desperate noise, a needy whimper, and Petra couldn’t place it.

“I know,” Billy told the sound. “I know, I know.” His voice cracked into a groan of craving that made her squeeze around him greedily. “I can’t… much longer.”

Petra dropped one palm from the wall and fumbled for his hand, settling his fingers optimally on her clit. He scrubbed violently and she came in seconds. Yes, he listened, and no, he did not fuck around. The orgasm left her reeling and quaking. She couldn’t tell if she was hot or cold, up or down. Billy kept stroking at her until she moved his hand away. Somehow, their fingers stayed tangled together as he tucked this arm around her too, hugging her from behind. The texture of the cast didn’t matter so much now.

“No condom, I’m guessing,” Petra said as dryly as she could while he continued to do things to her that made her jump and angle her hips for more.

“When am I ever ready for anything?” he panted, laughter just underneath.

She thought quickly as Billy’s thrusts grew shallow.

“On the dress,” she said.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

He pulled out and Petra turned quickly to face him, smoothing the skirt down for a change, to ensure it received the most coverage possible. She was less prepared for watching Billy jerk himself off, and apparently, so was Billy, his eyes a little wild and afraid. Petra slowly looked him up and down, then reached out and slid his t-shirt up his stomach to see more skin. He didn’t stop stroking.

“You look good,” she said, holding his gaze carefully.

Billy’s eyes clamped shut and his forehead crumpled. Petra guided his free hand up to her breast; he gripped. She felt a wave of flush go over her skin as he released in a jagged jet along the skirt. The top was undone anyway, so Petra wriggled out of the rest of it while Billy leaned into her, then hauled him close. She was naked, apart from her shoes.

While her hands climbed up his back under his t-shirt, Billy hiked his pants up and delicately tucked himself back in. Then he fell against her the last tiny bit of the way, his weight pushing her to the wall. Petra laughed and stroked the back of his mohawk flat, then clawed it back the other way with her fingers.

“How long are you gonna let me hold you?” he asked after a minute, speaking into her hair.

Petra turned her face to his shoulder and smiled.

“Until I think of some other way to cover myself. I’m not putting that dress back on.”

“Oh!” He let go of her. “Hang on.”

With a twitchy motion, Billy shrugged out of his black button-down shirt. It got hung up on his cast, so he rotated his arm while tugging the sleeve; Petra stood there, arms crossed over her chest. Shyly, he extended the shirt to her and she slipped into it, noticing him completely turn his head to look away. She buttoned it up. The fact that the shirt would cover her ass solved part of the problem.

Billy’s gaze squiggled over her quickly when he faced her again. His mouth tensed, probably trying to contain a smile. With a steady hand, Petra touched his cheek and lightly kissed his lips.

“I know how we get you out of here,” Billy said, his smile appearing slowly, at the same speed his eyes opened as she drew back.

He reached an arm back and hooked the neck of his t-shirt from behind, tugging it awkwardly over his head. When he got his elbows trapped and started to flail, Petra assisted his escape.

“How is this helping?” she checked, unconsciously clutching his shirt to her stomach.

“Streaking, Pet!”

“Oh god,” she groaned, but as she thought about it, she knew it would work. Mr. ‘I Climb Over Tables Instead of Walking Around Them’ was good at attracting attention.

She gave a half-nod, but Billy was already yanking his pants down, too committed to his harebrained plan to think about her agreeing or not. He caught her looking as he lowered his underwear.

“Next time,” he informed her, “we’re doing my favourite position.”

Petra was still trying to deaden the look in her eyes and keep her gaze over his left shoulder. She sighed heavily for effect.

“Fine. What is it?”

He grinned.

“Missionary.”

Startling herself, Petra let a laugh burst out and shoved Billy by the shoulder, almost toppling him as he idiotically attempted to remove his clothes without taking his shoes off. (Not that she blamed him for keeping protective footwear in place. Fucking Rats’ Nest.)

“You’re not serious,” she shot back.

“You’ll find out.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and straightened up. “Uh, can you hang onto these for me?”

She accepted the rest of his clothes, wadded into a sloppy ball.

“The panties, uh…” Billy floundered.

“You’ll get them back with everything else,” Petra promised. What the hell.

He grinned again.

“Also, next time, condoms.”

She raised an eyebrow. Not at his second use of ‘next time’ though. For Petra, that had been decided before she’d hit the first orgasm. Maybe even before they’d gotten up to the roof.

“You’re not actually going to buy them, are you?”

Billy scoffed, swinging his arms, naked apart from his sneakers, already almost in motion.

“What do you take me for? Some capitalist dupe? I’ll steal ‘em like a good boy.”

“What a relief,” she said.

“What is?”

“Just, you.”

He blushed.

“’K, if we ever wanna do this again, I gotta run.” Billy sprang forward and kissed her on the cheek. “Love you, Petra. Gimme a head start.”

She stood in the Rats’ Nest doorway, holding Billy’s clothes, and watched his bare ass as he bolted for the stairway. He flung the door open and pounded away down the stairs screeching ‘London Calling’ at the top of his lungs.

Glancing at the dress she’d intentionally walked across on her way out, Petra smiled wickedly at the thought that she could come back up here and burn it. Maybe bring Billy.

Quietly, she hopped the box of broken bottles and ran to the stairs, heading for her dorm. Billy’s voice was echoing everywhere. She wondered what trouble she was going to have to help him fight his way out of when Master Lin picked his punishment. Moron just had to be a hero.

#my writing #rats' waltz #deadly class #billy bennett #petra yolga #billy x petra #petra x billy #billy bennett x petra yolga #petra yolga x billy bennett #fanfiction #deadly class fanfiction #deadly class fanfic

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singledarkshade · 7 years ago

Text

Real World

Being a single-parent is hard but Rip wouldn't give it up for anything.

If only his weird dreams would stop.

Part One

He woke up with a jolt looking around his bedroom trying to work out where he was. Letting out a long sigh he rubbed his eyes as his confusion abated and he realised he was in his apartment in Central City. His dreams were back, the weird ones where he was himself but felt like someone else.

It had been over six months since the car accident when these stupid dreams began, surely a concussion should not last this long. Rolling over he looked at the picture sitting on his bedside cabinet and smiled at it.

To my Rip, time is a river we’ll navigate together, love Miranda.

She had given him the nickname of Rip because she knew far too any people called Michael, and since he was studying temporal mechanics as one of his degrees, he had to have something a little unusual. Although technically it came from his middle name.

Pushing his hands through his hair Rip knew he wasn’t getting anymore sleep so went to the kitchen and made himself some tea. Turning on the TV he found an old movie to watch, dozing while it played.

“Daddy,” the small voice called to him while a hand batted at his arm.

Rip opened his eyes and smiled finding his son kneeling beside him on the couch, “Good morning.”

“I’m hungry,” Jonas told him.

Grabbing his son around his waist Rip pulled him into his lap hugging him close, “Are you sure? I thought we should go back to sleep.”

“No,” Jonas giggled when Rip began to tickle him, “Stop.” Kissing the blond head Rip dropped Jonas onto the seat beside him, “Okay, I’ll make some toast.”

“With peanut butter?” Jonas asked with a sweet smile.

Rip shook his head amused, “Only because it’s Friday.”

Listening to his son in the other room watching cartoons Rip made them some breakfast. Jonas was the centre of Rip’s world and had been since the moment he’d been born. Of course the happiest day of his life then turned into the worst. Miranda died a few hours after having their son through complications no one could have predicted.

For four years Rip had raised their son alone, trying hard to balance his work and life while in London. Moving to Central City had been a spur of the moment decision when he got a job he hadn’t expected to but it wasn’t like he had anyone back in London.

“Here you go,” Rip set the plate with toast on the table in front of Jonas, “Eat up.”

Jonas climbed onto Rip’s lap the moment he sat on the couch and munched his toast while watching cartoons. Eating his own breakfast Rip smiled slightly at the warmth of his little boy leaning back against him.

About an hour later Rip tapped Jonas’ leg, “Okay, time to get dressed. I have to go to work and you have day care.”

Jonas pouted before laughing when Rip stood turning Jonas upside down for a few seconds before he carried the little boy into the bathroom to wash him. Less than thirty minutes later both were ready for the day. Rip grabbed the Flash backpack all of Jonas’ things were in and caught his hand leading him out the apartment.

Mercury Labs was an incredible employer for people with children. They not only had flexible working hours but also a day care with excellent teachers who ensured the children were prepared for entering school. Rip was well aware how lucky he had been to get the job here.

“Morning, Mr Green, Miss King,” Jonas greeted the two teachers who were still drinking coffee when they arrived.

“Good morning, Jonas,” Miss King smiled at him, she was quite young with an enthusiasm for teaching that Rip appreciated, “Dr Hunter.”

Rip nodded to her before turning to his son, “Looks like we’re here early so why don’t you go and get a book to read until everyone else gets here?” Crouching down so he was at the same level Rip smiled at his little boy, “I will see you at lunchtime, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” Jonas nodded.

Rip opened his arms for a hug smiling when Jonas threw himself into his arms. Hugging his son close Rip felt complete peace for those few seconds. Kissing the bright blond head Rip let him go watching as Jonas ran over to the library section, choosing a book the boy sat cross-legged on the carpet and began to read.

“I’ll take that for you,” Miss King offered reaching for the backpack Rip was holding.

Shaken out of his reverie Rip handed the bag over, “I’ll be down for lunch.”

She nodded and ushered him out of the room.

Rip flipped through his mail while Jonas skipped a few steps ahead of him along the corridors to their apartment.

“Hi, Trina,” Jonas suddenly cried bouncing on ahead to the woman standing in her doorway across from theirs.

“Hey, buddy,” she crouched down to catch him in a hug, “Did you have a good day?”

Jonas nodded, “Where’s Ali?”

“Ali is still at work,” Trina grinned, “But she’ll be here tomorrow when you come over to help me bake.”

“But we don’t let her help,” Jonas reminded the other woman, “Because she makes everything taste yuck.”

Rip frowned slightly, “That’s not a nice thing to say, Jonas.”

Katrina Avery, his neighbour and one of the few people he trusted with Jonas, grinned back at him, “But we all know it’s true.”

Shaking his head Rip opened the door to their apartment, “Say bye to Katrina,” he told his son, “You’ll see her tomorrow.”

“Bye, Trina,” Jonas beamed at her before he ran into his own apartment.

Rip waited for a moment before turning to the blonde who was smiling at him, “Do you want to join us for dinner?” “Ali is picking up food,” Katrina replied, “So I’ll pass this time. I’ll see you tomorrow around ten.”

With a slight nod Rip bade her goodbye and entered the apartment finding Jonas was on the couch already reading his book. It was times like this Rip was just overwhelmed by how much he loved his little boy.

Placing the backpack in his spot near the door Rip dropped a quick kiss on his son’s hair before heading into the kitchen to make them dinner.

Rip sat gently stroking his son’s back as Jonas slept on top of him while he watched an old movie. He knew he should put the boy in his bed but Rip liked holding Jonas when he slept, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he lost this simple joy. Finally he shifted Jonas onto his shoulder and carried the little boy into his bedroom.

Sliding Jonas under his covers Rip tucked Jonas’ favourite bear in beside him before covering him properly. He watched his son sleep for a few minutes before returning to the lounge and dropping onto the couch exhausted. Being a single parent was hard but he couldn’t imagine his life without Jonas.

*********************************************

Rip knocked. The door opened and he didn’t get a chance to say a word as Jonas instantly bounded inside to hug Ali and then Katrina. Rip placed his son’s backpack on the couch.

“What are your plans for this morning?” Ali asked joining him while Katrina took Jonas to the kitchen to start choosing what type of cookies they were going to make.

Rip gave a slight smile, “Making my life even harder than it already is.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” he told her, “Jonas, I’ll be back soon.”

Jonas quickly ran to hug Rip before he scampered back to Katrina.

Ali patted Rip’s arm comfortingly, “Go and enjoy your morning,” she told him, “We have him.”

Knowing his little boy was fine Rip left and headed to the car. It wasn’t a long drive from his apartment to the suburbs, he parked in front of a house which had several balls scattered over the front lawn.

Knocking on the door Rip smiled slightly at the chorus of barking coming from inside. He listened amused to the sounds coming from the other side before the door opened.

“Hi, Michael,” Eddie greeted him, “Come on in.”

Entering the house Rip quickly closed the front door before Eddie opened the hall door and the barking came again.

Rip crouched down smiling at the chocolate brown Labrador puppy bounding towards him, “Hey there girl,” he caught the enthusiastic puppy lifting her into his arms and gently scratching her head as she licked his face, “It’s good to see you too.”

“Have you told Jonas yet?” Eddie asked leading him into the living room where several other puppies were running around.

Rip shook his head, “She’s going to be a surprise.”

“Well I’m sure that’ll make you the best dad ever,” Eddie noted, “Grab a seat and I’ll make you some tea.”

Rip took a seat on the couch still petting the puppy who settled on his lap, “Have you got homes for any of the others yet?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, “They’ll be collected in the next week or so. You’re the first to pick up your new puppy.” “Well I can’t wait to get her home,” Rip replied, continuing to stroke the puppy in his lap, “Can I, Gideon?”

Gideon barked.

“I’ll get you that tea,” Eddie chuckled.

It had been only the second week he’d left Jonas with Katrina and Ali when Rip ran into Eddie in the city centre. He also worked in Mercury Labs and they’d spoken briefly in the few weeks Rip had been there. Eddie’s wife had just had a baby while his elder daughter’s dog had just had puppies so his house was in absolute chaos. Seeing the other man struggling with his shopping, Rip offered to help and had instantly fallen in love with the smallest puppy who had scampered over to him the moment he’d walked into the house.

Still too young to be separated from her mother at the time Rip visited each weekend, getting her used to him until he was finally able to take her home to meet Jonas. He knew getting a puppy was going to add to the chaos, and exhaustion, in his life but Rip couldn’t leave her.

He’d made sure he had everything they would need for their new puppy over the past few weeks. Eddie had helpfully got Gideon all her shots and micro-chipped before Rip took her home.

Rip had also checked neither Ali nor Katrina were allergic. They were so much a part of Jonas’ life so he knew he couldn’t take the puppy if neither of them were able to be around her. Thankfully neither was allergic and both loved dogs although had been confused he’d asked the question.

He put the bright red collar he’d bought on Gideon, smiling as she kept trying to lick his hand. Lifting her into his arms Rip headed up the stairs to introduce his son to the new member of their family.

Katrina watched her girlfriend as she sat reading a story to the little boy they were babysitting. They had both instantly adored Jonas Hunter when they met him almost six months ago. He was so cute, with big blue eyes and bright blond hair, always filled with questions, as well as being very affectionate giving hugs and kisses whenever he saw them.

The little boy came with a father Katrina sometimes wanted to wrap in her arms and just hug because he really needed it. Michael was a good man, who adored his son and had become a good friend to them both. She could see though there were days the man was exhausted trying to keep up with his little boy and wished he would take up their offer to babysit more often. So far they had only managed to persuade Michael to let them take Jonas for a few hours each Saturday morning to let him have some time on his own.

“Are the cookies ready yet?” Jonas asked suddenly.

Katrina shook her head, “Not yet but as soon as they are we’ll all have one.” Jonas beamed at her before turning back to Ali and their book. A knock came on the door and Katrina smiled finding Michael there holding a puppy in his arms.

“What?” was all she managed before Jonas came running over.

“Is that a puppy?” Jonas demanded wide-eyed as his father crouched down.

Michael smiled, “Yes, this is our new puppy. Her name is Gideon.”

Jonas gently reached out to touch the dog who instantly started to lick the little boy’s hand making him giggle.

Ali cleared her throat making Michael look up at her, “I see what you meant this morning when you said you’re making your life even harder than before.”

He shrugged, “I know but look at her and tell me you would leave her.”

Rolling her eyes Ali joined the others petting the puppy.

*********************************************

Rip sighed when Gideon poked at his face with her cold wet nose, it was still early and he just wanted to get some more sleep.

“Okay,” he sighed after several minutes getting up, “You hungry?” The yapping from the puppy made him smile and he gently clapped her before he got out of bed. Heading for the kitchen he quickly fixed Gideon some breakfast before making himself some tea.

They’d had Gideon for about a month and a half now. Rip found he talked to her a lot which made no sense as she was a puppy and couldn’t talk back but for some reason it helped him when he was stressed.

Getting Jonas breakfast when he got up Rip then sat with his tea stroking Gideon who was sitting on the couch with her head resting against his thigh.

An hour later he had Jonas washed and dressed standing outside the girls’ apartment.

“Good morning,” Ali said catching Jonas in a quick hug before sending him inside to see Katrina. She quickly scratched Gideon’s head before looking at Rip, “I promise we will have him back by dinner time and he will not gorge himself on sweets.”

“Thanks, Ali,” Rip smiled at her, “You know you didn’t need to...” “Who else are we going to take to a show like this?” Ali laughed, “My friend who runs the company wants real kids to see the production. I promised her at least one discerning child.”

Rip chuckled, “He knows what he likes. Okay, if there are any problems or if he gets upset then call me and I will come pick him up.”

“He’ll be fine, Michael,” Ali promised, “Give him a hug bye and go enjoy your day to yourself.”

Crouching down Rip called to his son who came over for a quick hug before he petted Gideon and waving goodbye when Rip left.

It was a nice day as Rip walked through the streets with his puppy scampering happily at his side. He had no idea what to do without Jonas for a full day but Gideon needed a walk anyway so it gave him time to think.

Wandering randomly through the city Rip frowned hearing Gideon suddenly begin to yap at him. Looking down he saw her leash was twisting oddly, he unhooked it to untangle the leather strap surprised when Gideon suddenly bounded away.

“Gideon,” he snapped, “Get back here,” Rip chased after his puppy frowning when she disappeared through a small hole in a wire fence that had several large ‘Keep Out’ signs.

Groaning in annoyance he managed to find an opening big enough for him, squeezing through Rip scanned the area looking for his puppy.

“Gideon?” he called worriedly, “Come on, Gideon. Come here, girl.”

“Hey,” a man appeared suddenly to Rip’s surprise as he was sure no one had been around, his hair sitting just at his shoulders and a t-shirt showing a half-melted Rubik’s cube, “This is private property.”

“I am sorry,” Rip stated, “But my dog managed to get in through a hole in the fence. She’s just a puppy.” “Is this her?” another man said appearing just as suddenly but Rip didn’t care why he hadn’t seen him approach as his dog was being carried by the new arrival.

Rip reached out and took the puppy into his arms, smiling as she licked at his face, “Bad girl, Gideon. You shouldn’t have run away. What would I tell Jonas?”

“Jonas?” the first of the men asked.

Rip smiled slightly, “My son,” he looked at the two men, “Thank you, I’m sorry about trespassing...”

At the hesitation the first of his new friends grinned, “I’m Cisco, that’s Barry.”

“Michael,” he introduced himself attaching the leash to Gideon and putting her on the ground where she began to chew on the bottom of his denims, “Michael Hunter.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Michael,” Barry told him, “Take care of your troublemaker.”

Rip nodded, “Thanks again,” he said before leading Gideon away.

*********************************************

“Who was our intruder?” Iris asked when Barry and Cisco returned to the cortex.

“A puppy,” Cisco said bringing up the CCTV footage, “Belonging to him.”

Iris stared at the man on the screen as did Harry and Joe.

“And?” Harry demanded.

Cisco shook his head, “There wasn’t a glimmer of recognition in his eyes when he talked to us.”

“Except he called his dog Gideon,” Joe noted.

“Well Gideon, the AI Gideon, said certain things may stick,” Cisco reminded them, “Things that were so important to him that not even the memory wipe would remove them.”

Joe folded his arms, “But other than the name you’re sure nothing else is in there.”

“I saw nothing to suggest he did know who we were,” Barry replied.

“And there was no vibe from him,” Cisco added, “It looks like Rip Hunter Time Master is gone for good.”

Barry nodded, “Which is exactly what he wanted.”

Part Two

#Rip Hunter #Legends Of Tomorrow #Fic

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terrablaze514 · 7 years ago

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Those Days Are Gone

Summary: Yesterday will do what it does best - take one down the smooth and rocky roads.

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and its characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi and Toei Animation. I'm only borrowing them.

As she looked up to the night sky, the stars gleamed and danced for the moon on the Eastern side. She was amazed by their level of brightness. According to Astronomers and space experts, tonight was the night of the Supermoon. When the good news was announced on television, the radio, and promoted in newspapers, people all over Tokyo anticipated with excitement. Preparations took place as civilians and tourists packed their bags, loaded their vehicles, and drove off to mountainous or forest areas. Some folks had made the decision to remain in town, with cameras, telescopes, and binoculars on deck. Ami was right. When the cosmic, celestial phenomena occurred, the mysteries that laid above couldn't be missed. The Perigee Full Moon, which occurred a few times each year, released its beautifully prolific light. However...

Usagi often wondered what life would be like in The Moon Kingdom right now.

At one point in time, it felt like a vivid dream.

Nowadays, she knew this was real.

Unlike most people, Usagi had placed her life on the line to rescue many; the people here, and the future generations. Otherwise, no one else would ever see the beauties of the sky. There would've been no smiles, no laughter, nor the sweet songs of birds by day. The percussive sound of crickets, the bees that buzzed, and ultimately, people from all walks of life who seek to attain their goals. Had it not been for Sailor Moon and the Sailor Senshi, no one would be left alive. No dreams realized.

This was not a random figment of the past. This was a major part of her life story. She could've sworn her kingdom's inhabitants had, no doubt, walked on the Earth's plains. Aside from her friends and allies, the vast majority of people had little to no memory of what those days were like. They've danced at the masquerade balls, sat at leadership conferences, led out in additional training sessions, and made friends. Her friends came from other kingdoms of the universe - princesses who were trained and polished to serve in her mother's kingdom as Sailor Senshi. Their ultimate destiny...

Since that fateful day the Negaverse unleashed a war and destroyed it, all that remained in its wake were ash. Dust. Broken pillars and shattered ornaments. Splintered glass and broken dreams. Her mother, Queen Serenity, was left behind with no more strength, she laid to rest while the Imperium Silver Crystal transferred everyone to Earth... Usagi felt her eyes water. Although she was loved and appreciated by her family here, she still missed her real mom. She couldn't remember her father, who served as King in those days... perhaps he died, which pushed the Queen to take on extra duties. The memory still challenged Usagi to this day, but she knew better. The only thing that the Queen of the Silver Millennium had ever wanted, was to give her daughter, the prince of Earth, his Shitennou, and all the people of both kingdoms a better chance. Even Queen Beryl, who yearned for Prince Endymion to the point of jealousy, deserved to turn her life around from the grave darkness that overtook her soul and judgment. This was, no doubt, the hardest decision she has ever made - but it was the only way. To Usagi, such reasoning was plausible. Then, just a few years ago, she defeated Queen Beryl and The Moon Kingdom was restored once more. However, she made it clear that she loves the Earth, and continued to live here since.

What would it be like to live up there again? Would she make a great ruler, in her mother's absence?

Probably not. She was still a teenager. Half of the things she excelled in as Moon Princess needed serious work as Usagi Tsukino. She needed to be more adept and proficient in her academic work. She needed to take charge more often. It was time to develop a greater sense of personal responsibility. There was an endless list of hobbies and skills she could learn, with ongoing practice and patience. To be a klutz or a flake was, cumbersome. Rei said it. Makoto made mention of it. Once in a while, Haruka and Michiru found a little humour in that, but they've made it clear that it's not for the best. Ami told her to consider five years from now - make it ten. Perhaps she could receive some more letters from her future counterpart, Neo-Queen Serenity, by Chibi-Usa.

What a brat.

Yes, her future daughter has presented some major challenges at times, from her pesky attitude to her smart choices. In a sense, Mamoru was able to manage just fine despite juggling college, work, and additional responsibilities. Usagi was not so lucky - even though she was attending grade school and lived with her family, Chibi-Usa was her worst nightmare!

The wet bed...

The "scuba incident" in the bathtub...

An interrupted make-out session with her boyfriend at gunpoint...

The time her friends fell unconscious from their drinks at The Shrine...

Her stolen moon crystal locket, on the day she forgot it...

In spite of these, she's watched her future munchkin grow spiritually, physically, intellectually, cognitively, emotionally, and socially. In all of their battles, from The Doom Phantom to the reappearance of Queen Nehelina, Chibi-Usa has attained the spirit of a warrior. That was one of the virtues that The Moon Kingdom in the Silver Millenium held. Since she went back to the future with her cat, Diana, Usagi couldn't stop thinking of her. Deep down, she already knew Chibi-Usa was proud of her parents - herself and Mamoru. With their presence, she had all the evidence of their leadership, team spirit, and person-centred priorities. Yes, she would make a great leader someday.

Usagi also had The Sailor Senshi, which consisted of Venus (Minako), Mercury (Ami), Mars (Rei), and Jupiter (Makoto). With them, they've had their fair share of ups and downs. They've been targeted directly by phages and major villains. They've rescued many innocents from atrocities that occurred. Each one had risked their lives when they weren't sure of the final outcome. Some of it felt surreal at times, yet she knew that none of it was a dream. Just last week, Chaos was defeated and Sailor Galaxia was saved, along with countless Sailor Senshi who represented many kingdoms in space. The ruin that once threatened to doom the world had reversed, but the task wasn't easy. Sacrifices were made, roles were changed. It was worth it.

Then there was another set who came along at some point: Uranus (Haruka), Neptune (Michiru), Pluto (Setsuna), and Saturn (Hotaru). It wasn't always easy working with them, due to differences in views and goals. As time passed, mutual respect was earned. It was her influence that led them to see the importance of solidarity and humility. Even when least expected, they would protect her - and the planet - with their lives. They were always on time, and she had no questions about that.

Her lover, Mamoru Chiba, who played the role of Tuxedo Mask, was also the father of their future child. Who would've thought that he was once the Prince of Earth? They were supposed to marry - but the Negaverse and Queen Beryl from Earth, including his most trusted Shitennou, have fallen under the influence of Queen Metalia. At one saddened point in time, Mamoru was taken from her. With his memories wiped out, he fell under the influence of the Negaverse and disguised himself as Tuxedo Mask to help steal the Imperium Silver Crystal. The ultimate defeat of Queen Beryl had set him free. True memories had returned and brought them back together once more.

Queen Metalia... Usagi's face scrunched as she looked up at the moon again. Where did all of that come from? What were the origins of this shadowy figure who initiated controversy between the kingdoms of Earth and The Moon? If only...

"The past is the past now," Luna said. Usagi turned to see Luna perched near the sliding door. The black cat stretched and stood on her toes.

"I was just pondering on whether or not I could really lead a kingdom up there. I don't know if it's possible." Luna quietly walked over and sat near her companion on the balcony.

"It is entirely up to you. I know destiny seems uncertain at times, but if there's any useful advice I can give, is that you believe in yourself no matter what."

A solemn smile came. "Thanks, Luna. You have no idea how grateful I am for someone like you."

Her guardians, Luna and Artemis, were cats who accepted Queen Serenity's final wish: Train them as Sailor Senshi. They've restored lost memories, kept tabs on the latest trends and villains, provided tools for the Inner Senshi to obtain success, and remained. It was also funny how their future counterparts already had a daughter, Diana. All three cats had human forms as well.

With a big yawn, Usagi stood on her feet stalked toward the sliding door. She turned to face Luna with tired eyes.

"I'm going to call it a night. Coming in?"

"Sure."

A few moments later, Usagi dreamt about The Starlights, Princess Kakyuu, The Amazon Trio, The Amazoness Quartet, former holders of the seven crystals, former members of The Dark Moon Kingdom, The Shitennou reuniting with The Inner Senshi, and Chibi Chibi.

Tonight was the Supermoon, after all.

~Owari~

#supermoon #sailormoon #usagi tsukino #sailor scouts #sailor senshi #serena #luna #fanfiction #introspection #march 2018 #march #is #women's #month #sailor moon

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lovehaswonangelnumbers · 5 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/the-quantum-awakening-october-2019-issue-248/

THE QUANTUM AWAKENING October 2019 Issue #248

By Gillian MacBeth-Louthan

IN THIS ISSUE

From your Hostess of Light

We are destined to make a difference, Damn the consequence

Time Bubbles

Bantering with the future does not place one in the cockpit of destiny

White Knight Crystals

11:11 Galactic Gateway workshop

Cosmic Classified

From Your Hostess of Light:

I know this is only October but it’s time for you all to gear up and get ready for the ride of your life. Our planetary teacher Mercury goes retrograde on Halloween. The ghosts of Christmas Past will be here sooner than expected. During this time I usually call in the goddess of completion because when you can’t go to sea you stay home and mend nets. We all have a closet full of nets that need mending reconnecting resetting and recalibrating. We will have plenty of time for that between October 31st and the first day of Sagittarius at the end of November. When you actively enter a state of completion the universe issues a decree and declaration in your favor. The universe is all about order within the chaos.

The human mind is hungry for order, hungry for completion, hungry for checking off everything on the to do list. The brain needs to know that everything that has been nipping at its heels to do, to complete, to read, to be, has now come to a place of rest. Just like a waking in the morning a rest allows one to renew their senses, to renew their rhythm to renew life. We are so serious as humans worrying about every little thing this timeline opens up an opportunity to learn to play with the universe, like two children playing ball in joy with no expectations, totally in the moment. Play involves a give and take. Give yourself the gift of play. Interact with the magic of life pure like a child’s heart and watch the blessings flow. Need Nothing, Attract Everything!

We are destined to make a difference, damn the consequence

When two or more gather in purpose and heart the universe encircles and lifts them to a place of miracles made manifest. When a person of wisdom comes together in pure heart and intention to give others his truths a new network of light is created and the light quotient is then increased. This is a time of deep reflection into a pool of possibility. Each situation in your daily life will touch you deeper into your soul core.

You can verbally discount the sadness of another by saying it will not affect you but we as a planet and a collective light are actively ‘our brother’s keeper’. As a species we are energetically and biologically connected to each other. As the light energy steadily increases in pressure and position we will find many who cannot adjust to this change. Emotions will float to the surface like a buoyant treasure. Playing into another’s personal dark dialogue and finger pointing will only clip your wings of light. Wishing a disagreeable person a poignant light will serve to unplug you from their grid of self-sabotage.

With time speeding up and life not slowing down we find that we are not able to keep all of our promises to ourselves and those we love. Our intentions are grandiose but full of hot air as we can barely rise to the occasion of making it thru the day. The feeling of walking in wet sand as we sink deeper and deeper into a place of lethargy. We can blame it on the month or the stars or solar minimum but we all know we have lost our sparkle. Like a champagne glass filled with soda, we are not reaching our full potential. The shore seems farther and farther away as we swim for our lives. We want to blame someone or something but ultimately it lands on our back porch. Guilt trips are packed for weekend stopovers as we all gallantly sidestep all that needs addressed.

Within the human being is a seed of hope. A seed that stays planted no matter how bad the weather or life may be. So many people have worked so hard only to see their dreams laid to rest in a barren thirsty soil. They have followed their divine blueprint into a desert that grows little. They have extended themselves financially, emotionally and physically, plowing a land that is unfriendly and does not support them. We become robotic like, as we struggle not to feel the sadness and disappointment in our heart. We don’t want to give up on what lives in our heart, the seed of hope we all hold for humanity.

We try hard to escape this harsh reality but life swims toward us with an open mouth. Any illusion of control is held tightly in the body as pain. Our bodies kick and scream and our soul pirouettes out of control. All personal considerations go on hold as these vast energies enter our field of inquiry. Fight or flight gallops thru our thoughts as adrenaline pumps hard. We feel helpless and hopeless as our dreams seem to whither on the vine. Our ability to nurture has turned into the need to survive. We begin to panic looking for the escape hatch, anything has to be better that all of this planetary upheaval. W sit in this empty space asking to be rescued by anything or anyone. In this place of see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil, the scent of danger lingers around the campfire.

It is time to get off our weary haunches and stand up for what we believe in. We are not little in light nor purpose. We are destined to make a difference, damn the consequence. We are held responsible by our actions or inactions by the cosmos. We have the quantified tools to shift the particles of all that seems to take away our freedom of choice. We seem to be adrift on a sea of circumstances. We are paddling with our spiritual hopes and dreams. When it seems you are drowning in life, don’t pray and swim to shore, but get out of the boat and walk on water. We are the Saviors of a world that has come undone. We are not blind victims, we have come into this world with eyes wide open. We have a Great Promise in our hearts to keep. This Great Promise casts a Light greater than any shadow. The heavens look to us to become the transformation we seek.

Time Bubbles…

The Time-Gates were created to occupy a space which holds all possibility. As the Time Gates open this 11;11 and time flows equally in all directions, everything that you have held on to emotionally, physically and mentally is now given a declaration of release. The opening of these Time-Gates herald a deep healing for all of humanity. The walls in your heart, in your life, in your thinking – have served you well. They have sequestered you kept you looking at the same thoughts over and over again, never refreshing what you once dreamt. always bringing the heavy arduous dark past into the very new now. Time was birthed to keep worlds dimensionally safe, until they were ready to expand in consciousness. As the constructs of holographic universes and self-imposed invisible walls are freed one is able to move forward without time restraints.It is time to heal. It is time to release the pain in your heart. It is time to let go. It is time to forgive. It is time to love, deeper, and fuller, than you ever thought possible. By moving your awareness into a malleable future, you will find that time will take you into a probable future. This is done by lifting up your thoughts and energies.

Time entrances and exits are inching their way towards all of the ancient and modern artifacts of Power. When a time door is opened, it affects the molecular spin of the entire planet.it also affects the memory. Even though you are moving as fast as you can in your mind and body, your actions will appear to be cartoon like. The molecular spin of life has slowed down to look at itself, Revealing where there are rips and tears in the time- flow. Time as you know it is under construction. As the sands of time slide through the portals of all that is sacred, seen, and unseen, humanity’s hope is revealed as it is seen in a full spectrum of possibility. As Time begins her journey back towards herself, her place of preference, she asks you to not give up on what lives in your heart. The Universe has placed within you a seed that cannot die, that cannot be sown into another’s pocket. The Universe has placed in you a time mark that asks to be viewed under the microscopic eye of your true heart.

The unknowable becomes seen in the Halls of Time. That which has been emptied, now becomes full. There is nothing to let go of, you are simply free to explore all that you are. A realm shift awakens from a long slumber to escort you into the next cornerstone where time and space meet, embrace and finally become one again. The prophecy you seek to know bends the rules of physics. It is living and pliable awaiting your instructs. In your awakened state all livingness will respond to you, thus the need for future knowledge is short and to the point. In the hologram of earth when you see the future you change it! When you have a need see it fulfilled, know that the universe shifts in accordance with your personal beliefs.

Bantering with the future does not place one in the cockpit of destiny

So many are still hanging on for dear life to what was and what should have been what could have been. Let’s face it dear ones the tide lines have loosened and you can no longer sunbath upon the shores of the past. You are the wizards and handmaidens of light. You alone hold the magic of ever changing possibility. The outcome of all action is innumerable and cannot be counted upon. In these times of change many have lost sight of the shore and thrash about drowning in a tidal pool. When the winds of change blow you can ride them soaring to new heights in delight or allow them to keep your tired and exhausted always fighting the force.

A natural rhythm needs to be established as you walk the sacred path of life as a sacred-partner. See the magical qualities of life as natural. Nature is a great healer, look at life from a different perspective. When you see beneath the surface you see with the eyes of God. See with a great hope and a deep knowing. Become a seer of what is invisible to the human eye but not the human heart. ‘You’ll see it when you believe it’ is shouted from the biological rooftops of humanity. Cellular intelligence declares its independence from circumstance, leaving no time to sit and ponder the outcome. Bantering with the future does not place one in the cockpit of destiny

Right comes from the left as internal circuitry reacts to the radiant downloading. Photonic particles are created as life moves closer and closer to a dialogue with space without time. ‘Make it so’ is echoed in the halls of time as everyone is asked to participate in this next creational dance. The Achilles heals of many will ache with prayers as they are brought to their emotional knees in order to receive communion with first light. Humbleness allows an opening in the canyon of self that once dead ended. The impassable mountain responds to true emotion from the deep clear well of caring.

You are asked to become more than you ever thought possible! You are asked to become the healer, you are asked to become the scholar. You are asked to become all that you dodge. You are asked to make personal decisions that even the angels would fret over. You are being pulled away from your personal line in the sand and taken to a new beach without footsteps. You are asked to increase your belief factor in yourself and all of your abilities. You are asked to redesign yourself in a collage of life imitating art. You are asked to step up to the plate and sup upon what is needed to be done, let it fuel your life force. Instead of allowing life and her daily deeds to suck all of your energy allow it to give to you increased energy. Stop whining about what has be-fallen you and see it as a piece of the soul puzzle you seek.

Bantering with the future does not place one in the cockpit of destiny. What is yet ‘to’ be is still unformed and embryo. Riding the reactions of a world that is still at a point of choice will only serve to lower the immune system of many. Adrenaline spikes off the charts as the pulse of the world watches and worries. True faith needs to plant itself in the soul of humanity. Look deep with the eyes of your soul and ‘see’ what lies before you and behind you hidden in the ripples and illusions of time.

WHITE KNIGHT CRYSTALS

As soon as I saw these crystals when I was in Denver I felt The Charge of the Light Brigade coming towards me, a multitude of White Knights. I saw a million maidens faces light up as what they thought was only myth began to take form right in front of their eyes. The women of Earth are programmed to seek someone that will stand up for them, protect them, someone that will believe in them, and see them as an equal partners. Women of earth seek someone that sees their true intrinsic value, as the living feminine aspect of God. Women seek someone that honors their words, their choices and their dreams and sees their true beauty.

A true White Knight is not necessarily a handsome Hunk of Burning Love upon a powerful white Arabian stallion; a true White Knight is one that has a holy flame within his heart. A light that speaks volumes, a Light that scares all shadows from their hiding places. This light cannot be bought it cannot be sold it cannot be made, it just is!

A true White Knight asks to be honored as well. He knows his value and worth he knows the codes of Honor that he has held throughout time. He knows the value of human life and seeks to eliminate suffering. He is a Champion for just causes, He cannot ignore injustice. This myth is so real and tangible within all women you can almost taste it, like sweetness on the air that never fully lands on ones tongue. We as the women of the world have given up on the legend of the White Knight coming to rescue us or to save us. We have been ladies in waiting for so long that our dreams have fractured and fallen apart. We want to believe we truly do.

These truly beautiful crystals come to remind us to dig deep in the wells and the trenches of our memories and hearts and lift up the thought of planetary ‘white knights’ moving in and out of time seeking those that call thru their hearts. This thought in all its multitude of coatings, asks to be welcomed into this earthly place and time. We as representatives of the Divine Feminine, need to lift up the true belief of a white knight, a good man, an honorable man, a strong man who stands up for what is divinely right no matter what the consequences.

We as the ‘ladies in waiting’ may not see many examples of this in our daily lives, our politics, or our world leaders, but there is a hard copy, a blueprint that lives in our hearts forever. It is “we’ that hold the promise of rescue. It is through this belief that the white knight will be birthed.

“We as the Divine Feminine aspect of the living Light and Goddess now give permission for the Power and Light of the ‘White Knight’ to be birthed into this time and place. We issue this decree through our Hopeful Hearts, each and every one, and so be it’.

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deafeningdespair · 6 years ago

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Manic Depressive Disorder.

DISCLAIMER, this article contains profanity and graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

-----------------

~ Help me, it's like the walls are caving in. Sometimes I feel like giving up, but I just can't - it isn't in my blood. Laying on the bathroom floor, feeling nothing. I'm overwhelmed and insecure, give me something I could take to ease my mind slowly. "Just have a drink and you'll feel better." "Just take her home and you'll feel better." Keep telling me that it gets better. Does it ever? Help me, it's like the walls are caving in. Sometimes I feel like giving up - no medicine is strong enough. Someone help me, I'm crawling in my skin. Sometimes I feel like giving up, but I just can't - it isn't in my blood. I'm looking through my phone again, feeling anxious. Afraid to be alone again, I hate this. I'm trying to find a way to chill, can't breathe, oh. Is there somebody who could help me? It's like the walls are caving in. Sometimes I feel like giving up - no medicine is strong enough. Someone help me. I'm crawling in my skin. Sometimes I feel like giving up, but I just can't - it isn't in my blood. I need somebody now, someone to help me out. I need somebody now. Help me, it's like the walls are caving in. Sometimes I feel like giving up, but I just can't - it isn't in my blood.

- Shawn Mendes, In My Blood.

Okay, y'all, here goes.

Lately, I've been feeling down, kinda lost. I've felt like my heart is quite literally breaking inside of my fucking chest and those stupid little shards are getting lost in my blood stream, slowly making their way through my veins. It's painful and nauseating. They're slicing me open from the inside and eventually, I'll just be lying on the bathroom floor, bleeding out, and the worst part of it all is that I can't even cry out in pain or call for help because there's these massive hands gripping my throat. They're choking me, shaking me, bruising me as the voices in my head scream at me that I'm too weak to fight off the hands or the pain or even the fear. The voices tell me that I deserve what I'm getting and that I'll be getting this exact treatment for the rest of my life.... which, by the way, will only be a few more seconds - because, well, don't forget about the shards tearing me apart from the inside.

It feels like I am dying.

But I'm not.

I suffer from M A N I C depression - which is just a fancy way of saying that I am B I P O L A R ..... only, there's more to it than that, right? Well, yeah, there's more to it than that.

A major misconception about bipolar disorder is that one can go from feeling happy to mad or sad, and so on and so forth..... but that's not true. That's a mood swing, and I don't have mood swings. I have manic depression, remember?

Sometimes, I have highs, and let me tell you something - when I have those highs, I fucking /have/ those highs. I'm on top the world! I feel so free and H A P P Y. I could cry these big, whopping alligator tears full of joy and excitement. Whenever I have these epic highs, it's like I'm a goddamn princess with this flashy gold tiara that's lined with the most beautiful and precious diamonds and rubies, and there's thousands of people throwing white roses and orange tulips at my feet while they bow down to me and.... well, I'm sure you get the picture.

^ THAT is the "mania" part.

Mania (noun) | ma·nia \ ˈmā-nē-ə , -nyə \ - - excitement manifested by mental and physical hyperactivity, disorganization of behavior, and elevation of mood • excessive or unreasonable enthusiasm. (Merriam-Webster Dictionary)

Think on that for a second.

Now, when I have my lows, I'm nothing short of a natural disaster. Miley Cyrus says it perfectly, I come in like a wrecking ball. I'm destructive with no regard to anything or /anyone/ else. I'm like a hurricane - no, a tsunami. I crash in unexpectedly and drown everyone, I leave debris scattered about recklessly, and do you have any idea what the best but worst part about that is? It's the fact that I don't even care. I couldn't give two whole shits about the people standing in my path that I'm destroying, and that just makes it all worse. As much as I want to care about them and save them, I physically and mentally C A N N O T.

^ THAT is the "depression" part (in case you have no idea what depression is, see below).

Depression (noun) | de·pres·sion \ di-ˈpre-shən , dē- \ - - a state of feeling sad : dejection • anger, anxiety, and depression : a mood disorder marked especially by sadness, inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration, a significant increase or decrease in appetite and time spent sleeping, feelings of dejection and hopelessness, and sometimes suicidal tendencies. (Merriam-Webster Dictionary)

If you're feeling frisky and you wanna do some reading on what bipolar disorder is, I'll help you out. Click this guy > here < and it'll tell you all you need to know.

But if you'd rather hear the short version, keep on reading my mess.

Basically, I can go weeks feeling the mania. I can be nothing but happy for days on end, for months even. I'm that happy, peppy, silly (and let's face it, obnoxious) Alex you all know and love.... but then, suddenly, almost like literally flipping a switch, I'm broken. I'm surrounded in darkness and it's eating me up. I don't know how long it will last, and there's really no way to pull me back to the light, just like there was no reason for my demons to even surface in the first place.

When I get in these moods, I like to joke about it because it's the only way I know how to cope. When you ask what's wrong, I simply say with a weak giggle, "I'm just emotional today." but we all know that it's more than that.

So, what I'm getting at here is this - please stop making me feel like I'm this stupid little girl that just thinks she's sad for a minute. Don't tell me to smile or get over it - I'm fucking TRYING and it's not working. Don't ask me a million questions because truthfully, I can't even remember what my name is half the time. Don't even tell me that it's going to be okay because I know that's just what people say when they've run out of nice things to say, and I also know that things w i l l n o t be o k a y. I'll feel better eventually, I'll have a high again - but you know what they say? What goes up, must come down.

What can you do to help? Just accept me for who I am, love me through my chaos, and hold my hand when I ask.

I'll leave you all with this final quote...

"Depression is a painfully slow, crashing death. Mania is the other extreme, a wild roller coaster run off its tracks, an eight ball of coke cut with speed. It's fun and it's frightening as hell. Some patients - bipolar type I - experience both extremes; other - bipolar type II - suffer depression almost exclusively. But the "mixed state," the mercurial churning of both high and low, is the most dangerous, the most deadly. Suicide too often results from the impulsive nature and physical speed of psychotic mania coupled with depression's paranoid self-loathing."

David Lovelace, Scattershot: My Bipolar Family *

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nezzfiction · 7 years ago

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ENMY Chapter 46 - The Oath of Outlaws

Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies.

For her, that might very well be yesterday’s enemies. Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four will comprise Team Enemy.

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below

The Oath of Outlaws

We aren’t heroes.

We aren’t saints.

No cause or mission

Is worth our death.

“Listen, Yang,” Emerald once spoke to her. “You’re not a hero. You’re not a saint. And you definitely… definitely aren’t the saving grace of this team.” She poked her chest for emphasis. “You. Are. An. Outlaw. Do you know what that means?”

“I’m guessing you’re about to tell me.”

“Don’t interrupt me. It means, no cause, no mission, no obligation your crazy brain made up, is worth dying for. Should the worst ever happen—You cut. And you run. And you don’t. Look. Back. We aren’t the saviors of humanity. We don’t put our lives before anything or anyone else. Repeat it.”

“Em, really. Just—”

“Freakin’ repeat it, woman!”

“Okay, okay! We aren’t heroes or saints. No cause, no mission, no obligation is worth dying for.”

“And?”

“When the worst shit hits the fan, I cut and run. And I don’t look back.”

“Good. That’s the rule of Outlaws, got it?”

“But what about for you guys?”

“Didn’t you hear me?! No one is worth dying for! Self-preservation!” Emerald yelled, swirling the drink in her glass. The girl obviously having too much to drink on a rare night. “But I guess there’s that whole, ‘honor among thieves’ bullshit. Guess there’s an oath with outlaws too,” she muttered in a quieter voice.

She knocked the rest of the glass back against her throat.

“But in most cases! You RUN! No bullcrap about being noble and that noise. We run……. Because no one’s gonna save us but us.”

Yang chuckled.

“Sure, Em. No one’s gonna save you, but me.”

“Not what I said, blondie!” Emerald slurred. “But I love you…” Her eyes drooped. “Don’t tell Mercury I had too much to drink. He gets all surly…er when it happens.”

…

Yang felt a sharp pain pierce her temple.

She couldn’t shake the ringing from her ears.

Blood trickled down the bridge of her brow, down her nose.

The taste of iron coated her taste buds, and ash on her tongue.

Sear marks on her skin stung fresh from the explosion, before numbness started setting in.

Not good, she thought to herself.

If my body’s trying to block out the pain, this is definitely not good.

Yang knew her body. Pain kept her on her toes, made her aware of her injuries. It meant she was in the fight.

But not knowing— that meant there was too much.

As she crawled on all fours, her vision blurred and distorted.

Yang was losing blood quick. A large wound on her abdominals was leaking.

One thought repeated itself.

This is bad…

This is real bad…

She squinted her eyes and saw her teammate, unconscious and bleeding out on the wooden floor. Yang felt her heart sink as she noticed the girl’s eyes rolled back and unresponsive.

She yelled her name, but wasn’t sure whether her voice reached or was too hoarse in her throat.

Definitely…. bad.

* * * * *

As soon as Penny issued warnings about an incoming enemy, Neo tapped her sight into the window glass surrounding the loft. She was the first to see Vulcan flying in from a few blocks off. Like he was some sort of cannonball shot from a distance.

His giant hammer held overhead, trailing smoldering brimstone. Neo saw something like that too often to be ignorant of what came after. This whole floor would be wiped out in the next second. She would have to act fast.

Her emotions told her to look for Yang first. She was the farthest from her… She was also the hardiest of their group. If anyone would survive the attack, it would be her.

Masa and Mercury were the closest. Mercury was their best fighter. Masa was the weakest, so there was a chance she would die in the attack.

That left Emerald…

…

Neo wouldn’t be able to get to her in time.

There was never a choice to begin with, and she lamented it.

She grabbed a hold of Mercury and Masa by the back of their necks. In the brief second they showed surprise, the petite girl was already shoving them into a mirror she had conjured.

Glass shattered.

Neo felt heat lick across her back. She was pushing her Semblance to its limit. Her Aura was fading quick and the outer layer that protected her body was burned away by the flames. And then, she fell face first onto the dancefloor downstairs.

The girl moved them as close as possible, while far away enough to escape the blast.

--At least for the most part.

“NEO!” Mercury called to her.

The young man saw that her back was burned to the skin. Smoke wafted from Neo’s raw and crisped flesh. She was making small wincing sounds, which he had never heard before. The abrupt teleportation had him confused at first, but seeing this put him on a razor’s edge.

“What the hell is going on?!” Junior rushed to them.

“I don’t know! I think it was an ambush! The others still have to be—”

Neo violently grabbed Mercury’s collar.

“Hmmghh!!! HGhhghh!!!”

Worry and panic painted every inch of her expression. There was a sorrow that could be gleaned. Something tragic in her painful sounds.

“I know! Just hold on! I’ll get them!!” he nodded, and turned to Junior. “Where are the twins?!”

“They… I sent them down the street cause we heard some guys were gathering there…”

“Are you fuc—!”

“Mercury. Calm yourself,” Masa grasped his shoulder. “I will attend to Miss Neo. You must return upstairs.”

“But—!”

Neo, who was still holding his collar, pulled him in and knocked her forehead against his.

“HHNGGHH!!! HnNgGH!!”

The hit knocked Mercury to his senses. The stinging above his brow seemed to ebb away unnecessary thoughts. First, he needed to get to Emerald and Yang. Then, he could worry about Neo. And after that, they would need to leave Vale for good. An attack of this scale was not something to take lightly, or wait around to happen again.

“Masa! When I get back down, we’re leaving Vale!”

“As expected,” the engineer replied.

Mercury released his Semblance, and flew to the stairs leading up. He kicked down the mangled door that was distorted by the explosion. There, he came upon a scene of absolute carnage.

Black and ash coated many surfaces of what was once their loft. A number of their equipment was melted beyond recognition. Great waves of heat still filled the air like an oven. And off to the side, was Emerald and Yang.

The large, blonde girl was curled over their leader’s unconscious body.

“Mer…cury…” Yang said hoarsely, when she saw him. “Emerald… she…!”

From the first look, it was apparent Emerald suffered the worst of the attack. Drops of deep red dripped to the floor from the back of her head. Her eyes refused to focus. Mouth hung open with an unnerving stiffness. Her chest wasn’t moving.

It was the first time Mercury had ever seen Emerald like that.

“No! NO!”

“Well, if it isn’t scrawny-ass Mercury. Do you remember me, cousin?”

“Vulcan…!”

At the other end of the ruins, stood Vulcan Black. His burning maul had extinguished its flames for now. And with a quick motion, he dropped the three packs he carried with him.

“Bront, Stero, Pyra, activate,” Vulcan commanded.

Bursting from their bags and unfolding from their compact forms were three automatons. Each of them, looked a bit larger than the average Atlesian knight. They were thicker and had one giant optic ball on their heads, which lit up brighter and brighter.

Mercury knew powering laser fire when he saw it. He kicked the floor as fast as he could, shooting dust, wood and concrete into the air.

No sooner had he done so, a triple stream of light came through, slicing any debris within contact.

From the cloud cover, dodging past the beams, Mercury rushed the automatons with everything he had. He knew if he didn’t keep their attentions, they would easily shoot Yang down. Emerald was obviously in no shape to defend herself. He needed to buy time, find an opportunity to take them away while they were still alive. At least, Yang…

No! She’s alive! Emerald’s still alive! I CAN’T LOSE HER TOO!!!

As he engaged the automatons in close quarters, they started to kite him. They fired rounds that limited his movements, and forced him into a position of their choosing. Once there, a great weapon bound toward him.

Mercury’s Talarion sprouted wings behind his ankles. A silver burst of Aura spun his body into a swift round-house kick that collided with Vulcan’s hammer. Flames from the maul ignited the air gathered in Mercury’s heel. And a backdraft of flames plumed from the match.

They were both pushed back, but Vulcan was the first to recover. With an overhead swing, he ignited the floor in front of him. Lava poured over, making the grounds under Mercury molten.

Fortunately for Mercury, he was able to hover over it safely.

“Hmmm, had doubts when reports said you could fly. But I s’pose it be fittin’. Flyin’ around like some annoyin’ bug.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“Now, now. Let’s not get all hot and bothered. You know what was goin’ to happen when you fragged Apollo and Diana. I didn’t even like ‘em, good riddance, I say. So, it’s nothin’ personal Merc, but I’s gots to kill you.”

“Oh, it’s personal, Vulcan. It’s fucking personal! And I’m gonna kill you!!”

Mercury tried to dash at him, but the assassin’s automatons blocked the way. As it happened, the fight began forming the same pattern as before. Which meant Vulcan would aim for Mercury when a window of opportunity eventually presented itself.

Meanwhile, Yang was hastily using her Semblance. She traced the veins that were empty of any warmth. Closer and closer she looked, inspecting every root and crack for some sign of life. Some thread of hope in Emerald’s lifeless body.

“C’mon, Em. You…don’t get to die…! Not yet! There’s still too much… haven’t done…”

And just as she uttered those words, Yang saw something shimmer. She pressed her palm and head to the girl’s. Her hair blazed with what little Aura she had left. Even in the chaos of the fight happening in the background, Yang focused solely on this one task. Caressing the miniscule shred of Emerald’s life, nursing the wounded soul. She sunk what little she had into the effort.

…

“…Ya..ng,” Emerald’s voice creaked.

“Em!”

“R…ru…”

The girl was trying to say more, but was unable to do so. So Yang leaned her ear close to her mouth. Only then, could she make out the words Emerald was trying to convey.

“Run.”

…

The girl fell unconscious once more, while Yang still held her.

“Oath of the Outlaw, huh? Heh,” she wheezed.

You made me say that back then, but I always made my own promises.

And I decided, if we ever needed to run, it would always be together.

Yang laid Emerald on the floor carefully. She then, stood with mind-numbing effort, and almost passed out doing so. Her prosthetic arm flared meekly, and she used it to burn the huge wound on her abdomen close.

“GAAAHhhh!!! Hah….hah…!”

The hole was hard and charred black, but the bleeding was stopped.

If I had my old Semblance, I’d probably be on fire more than that guy’s hammer right now…

…

Hey. You’re there, aren’t you? I need to save my friend. I don’t care what it takes. If you need my soul or whatever price. You can take it.

But I need power.

Right. Fucking. Now!

…

Please.

…

Just then, Yang thought she felt a bird perch on one of her shoulders.

Embers began to flick from her golden locks. The afterimages rising from her body were something intangible, as if wanting to take form.

Yang could feel a new strength swell from her core, and alight to her hands and knuckles.

This surge would be short-lived, but it was all she knew she needed.

* * * * *

Vulcan’s attention split in an instant.

He saw Yang rise with a powerful stare. His experience told him she was a foe he couldn’t afford to ignore, even if she was on death’s door just a few seconds ago. The assassin reminded himself of his stratagem. Taking out Emerald and Yang took the highest priority, as far as he was concerned.

Mercury was currently engaged with the automatons. Having known his cousin for so long, Vulcan was able to program his artificial helpers to fight efficiently. He could deal with Mercury later. It was more important to defeat Yang, who was barely on her feet.

“Is Neo, okay?!” Yang shouted to Mercury.

“………! She got burned pretty bad, but she’s good enough to defend herself!” he shouted back.

“’Kay. At least, there’s that.”

“What? No worries for the engineer?” Vulcan posed, while he strode to the blonde fighter. “S’pose the girlfriend does take priorities. Don’t fret though, I’ll send your girlfriend along soon enough. I don’t like keeping love birds separated for long.”

At the approach of the large assassin, Yang strained her eyes at the floor. There, she picked up a small piece of glass, and palmed it.

With her fists tucked underneath her chin, the boxer bound forward. Her silhouette swayed side to side like a pendulum, gaining momentum with every turn.

Vulcan and Yang entered striking distance. The assassin swung his hammer horizontal to meet with the boxer’s predicted punch.

But the weapon caught nothing. Yang faked the attack, and ducked under the maul.

She pushed her head against Vulcan’s chest and was in deep infighting range.

Damn girl’s got guts, I’ll give her that. Brass and nails, this one.

Vulcan knew what was coming and braced himself for the dirty boxing combo.

Yang delivered a blinding pepper of shots to the midsection that made the man buckle. The large muscled body leaned over slightly due to the impact. And Yang looked to finish the combo with a tight uppercut.

But before she could, Vulcan grasped the opposite ends of his hammer’s shaft.

“Not often, I throw down with a mean one like you. Respect.”

She knew she was takin’ a hit coming in.

Like a guillotine, Vulcan slammed the rod across Yang’s neck. The blow fell so hard, it made craters under both combatant’s feet. The sound it caused was louder than gate shutters closing.

…

But Yang still stood. Her body endured.

The boxer’s consciousness went blank for a moment, but remembering to position her front foot right under her, she withstood the blow without falling.

Vulcan was taken aback until he saw the accumulated muscles layering the back of Yang’s neck. Clearly defined and long-trained. A trademark sign of a true boxer.

The assassin couldn’t help but grin.

Yang retightened her body, and let loose an uppercut straight to the jaw. The crack of the impact sent the head arcing. The mask Vulcan wore was bent out of shape to reveal skin. But what was unexpected, was the trail of blood that followed the punch.

The shard of glass Yang had picked up earlier, she squeezed between her index and middle finger at the moment of the strike. As a result, the fragment was embedded at the bottom of Vulcan’s mouth, causing him to bleed.

“Mad respect, fellow warrior. Truly a shame it is, we did not have more time.”

You fought hardy till the end. Just to add even a little bit more damage, ya hid that glass in your fist. Jupiter’s info said you lot were ambushers, liked to overwhelm your adversaries by surprise.

But from what I see here, you’re all more desperate than anything else. Used to fighting losing battles, aren’t ya? And winnin’ by the hair of your ass.

Hah!

That stuff’ll temper you good alrigh’. Is a shame.

Real shame.

Vulcan grasped his hammer tighter at the ends. And with a force harder than before, he drove the steel bar across Yang’s neck again. The boxer fell head first, smashing into the floor. This time, defeated for certain.

…

Before she lost consciousness, the girl had eyed the life veins of her opponent. Unlike any other she encountered, Vulcan’s weaknesses were covered and few. Many of his vitals were reinforced with inhumane augmentation. His veteran experience allowed little exposure for short periods of time.

She would have to bet everything she had, even if it meant her sacrificing herself…

…To create an opening.

Neo reappeared the instant Vulcan committed his full focus to Yang. Her thin blade stabbed from below, right for the spot her partner pierced with a shard of glass. The assassin felt slim steel carve through his jaw and up through his mouth.

Vulcan pedaled back quick for a person of his stature. His mouth was opened with a vertical gash. Blood was gushing down like a tapped well.

“How zjuh fuh…?”

After thinking about it for a second, Vulcan understood how it played out.

[ “Is Neo, okay?!” Yang yelled to Mercury.

“………! She got burned pretty bad, but she’s good enough to defend herself.”]

He thought it was typical for Yang to worry about her girlfriend, but under that question, she was actually asking if Neo was in a condition to provide a surprise attack. In response, Mercury told her she was pretty bad, but “good enough” to.

And then, there was the glass shard from Yang’s punch. Making use of Neo’s ability to see through glass surfaces, she had her partner watch the fight for an opportune moment to strike. And even marked the location of weakness in the same move.

Vulcan could barely believe it, but the evidence was there before him.

Neo positioned herself, panting between the assassin and Yang. Though she was critically wounded, she still presented a viable threat. The blood Vulcan was losing was nothing to scoff at either, and if the little girl was as precise with her strikes as the intel indicated, resuming the match would be suicide.

He glanced to the side and saw Mercury staring right back at him. The automatons were still fighting around his range, but there was no doubt his cousin’s focus rested in his direction.

No good, huh?

As soon as Vulcan finished assessing the situation, he made for the entryway he arrived through and leapt to the farthest rooftop he could reach. After a few seconds passed, the automatons disengaged from Mercury, and followed their maker.

Once Neo was sure he would not return, she immediately fell to her knees and started checking on Yang. Likewise, Mercury rushed to Emerald side. Each of them, worried about their partner’s dire conditions.

* * * * *

Downstairs on the outside of Junior’s club, gangsters and mercenaries attacked from all sides.

While a war waged out in the streets, Masa was packing what equipment she had readied to escape with.

“Penny, this one requires an assessment. Do we have the required components to forge Miss Yang’s new arm and Raven’s sword?”

[Yang’s new arm: Affirmative.

Raven’s sword: Negative.]

“…Understood.”

At that moment, Mercury and Neo carried Emerald and Yang down the stairs.

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” Mercury shouted.

“You won’t get out the way you guys planned,” Junior came forward. “Blondie…Greenie…” he muttered upon seeing Yang and Emerald’s conditions. “Are they…?”

“They’re fine, but not if we stay here! What do you mean? What happened to our escape route?!”

“Guys are coming in on all sides. They’re also covering the nearby train stations.”

Mercury grunted in frustration. He looked to Emerald, who he always looked to whenever they needed a new plan. But she would not be able to help them this time.

“Can we hold out?!”

Junior shook his head.

“Only a matter of time before they break in here.”

Mercury cursed, his head in a panic once more. Even if they somehow managed to fend off the fodder, he doubted Vulcan would stand idly by. The assassin was probably observing the situation’s development right now. If there was any sort of opening, the man wouldn’t hesitate to launch another one-man meteor again.

In the middle of Mercury’s thinking, Junior picked up one of Masa’s packed suitcases.

“Follow me.”

He led them to the club’s garage and to a particularly new Hummer. Its paintjob was a camo snow, likely done to match the season’s weather.

“Load them in. The only way out is through,” he tossed his keys to Neo.

Mercury turned to Junior.

“You’re giving us your ride?”

“…Yeah.”

“Didn’t you just buy this thing after we crashed the last one at Signal.”

“Yeah.”

…

Neo finished fastening Yang and Emerald into the backseat. Masa stored the last of the equipment into the trunk.

“This one has left instructions for my weapons to be shipped to my patrons,” the engineer called to Junior.

“Yeah… Get right on that as soon as my establishment’s not a battlefield anymore.”

Masa stared at him for a moment.

“Thank you.”

And hopped into the backseat.

“…Emerald and Yang look pretty rough back there,” Junior commented.

Mercury went quiet for a time.

“…Yeah.”

Junior faced away from him, appearing to contemplate something. After a time, he spoke.

“These assholes will catch up, if no one’s here to hold them back.”

“…”

Junior put on his sunglasses and hitched a thumbs up.

“Get out of here, already. I’ll hold them off.”

Mercury took a moment to stare hard at the gang boss’s back.

“You watch too many movies, dude…. But you’re alright.”

“I’m billing you guys for the new wheels!”

“We’ll owe ya.” Mercury jumped into the passenger’s seat and turned to Neo. “Punch it.”

Neo slammed the accelerator. Their tires screeched, and they were off.

On their way through the streets, they almost ran over a few gangsters. But after a few more minutes, they were passing the city’s borders. By the time they hit the forest, they were gone.

As more snow-covered scenery passed them by, Mercury often looked outside, and then back at Yang and Emerald. Both of whom were being treated by Masa.

It would be a rough winter.

For all of them.

NIMAT~1

#RWBY #ENMY #rwby fanfic #rwby fanfiction

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