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dragon-susceptible · 1 month ago

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TDP Rewatch S2 E6: The Heart of a Titan

procrastinating writing the next chapter of Different Path Taken by watching the show? Me? Yeah.

This title hits different after the Mystery of Aaravos arc, I gotta say.

Why does Viren keep getting the recap voice. I'm so annoyed with this bitch.

This show does a really good job of putting different narrative arcs over each other, like Harrow's narration and Viren's, Ezran's speech over Claudia and Ibis' fight, that sort of thing.

I really, really love the parallel between Harrow's fatherhood and Runaan's. Harrow was dealing with being a stepfather, "trying to give you space to love your real father, even though he passed away." At the same time as Runaan was stepping in as a guardian for a friend who would, as far as he knew, one day return to take Rayla away again. They both had a reason to hold their distance, and they weren't bad people for doing it. They tried to make their love known without replacing those parents, and the thing is - they succeeded. They didn't get the chance to say the words before Viren cursed them both, but Callum and Rayla know that their adoptive (so to speak) fathers loved them.

God, I'm a whore for these fucking elves apparently, I'm literally pausing and going frame by frame through the few seconds we get of the assassins approaching the castle while Harrow narrates.

So Ram seems to have been responsible for guiding the others, he took point on approach to the castle. Also he wears a ring on his right horn, and these fuckers really love running in trees for absolutely no reason.

Andromeda was on his heels to his left. Callisto followed on the right, Runaan after on the left again. Skor brought up the rear, and was watching behind them. Oh this is interesting - where Ethari's facial tattoos trail under his chin and across his neck, Skor's do not. They stop at his jaw.

@ Skor, nice ass. Also, Callisto, Callisto, where the Fuck are you storing that glaive??? Ram uses knives, Andromeda's sickles could easily just be under her cloak, we can see Runaan's blades, Skor's are likely on his back, but Callisto's glaive is longer than they are tall, even if it collapses like Rayla's butterfly blades or Runaan's bowblade, where did they put it??

"A lie, a wish, and a secret."

What is it with this show and having characters just yell "DAAAA!" as a battlecry

Funny how once again, as the battle begins to rage, Viren doesn't lift a finger to help. This seems to be a trait of his. Whenever things come down to real battle or real labor, he backs out.

The sister shield launch was fucking epic, I don't care how ridiculous it is, I loved it. How Amaya looked up and just knew, and Sarai trusted her to know exactly what to do. They've done this before.

Oooh, yeah, Amaya probably also has a concussion. Brains are fragile and she just got her whole body rattled in a metal can, including hitting her head so hard her own helmet cut her cheek. She'll be battered af for a few days.

I also love how Sarai got so concerned for a moment, but when Amaya reached for lightness, Sarai joked back that she doesn't look great, but she should see the other guy. It's really nice that we can see this is just a throughline of who Sarai is; she's supportive and kind and has a tendency to respond to serious situations with humor to diffuse them. She's funny, and that's just really nice to see as a guiding character trait in a woman in media. A mom in media, at that, and her humor is actually funny, not the usual "haha parents making jokes that make their kids cringe".

Oooh I'm fucking vibrating over this argument between Harrow and Viren and Sarai and Amaya about whether to take the heart and leave the wounded or wait for everyone to make it. Because here's the thing, right. Sarai is arguing that the wounded will be fine - she and Amaya can stay back; she clearly has a plan. Theoretically, the wounded could hide and recuperate and then sneak back later. She is not wrong about this. Viren is pushing to just abandon them entirely - which he's extra eager to do because Sarai threatens his sway over Harrow. Harrow won't do either of those things, because leaving someone in danger is absolutely against his personal moral code, which is the main thing that got them into this situation in the first place. He cannot turn his back on someone who needs help, even now when it would actually be somewhat practical - and Viren drives him to extremes.

Also, "you wouldn't do this if it wasn't your wife's sister" made Harrow snap, and I really like that moment, because it's very clear right then that Viren said it because he knew it would hurt, and Harrow knew he was saying it just to sting. I also can't help but think about the conversation that must have been had among the assassins after they discovered Rayla didn't kill Marcos, and Runaan didn't kill her - would he have done it if she wasn't his daughter?

And the fundamental difference between Runaan and Harrow in that choice, which is that Harrow would stay and save them all even if it wasn't Amaya. But Runaan would have killed her, if she wasn't his daughter.

The Lie: History is a narrative of strength.

That lines up really well with how much Viren harps on strength, how it's worse to be weak than to be cruel, in his eyes. I wonder if Harrow expected Viren to use this narrative on his boys, and was trying to head it off in this letter even though he wasn't going to be there to stop Viren himself.

Something about how Harrow's narration of how he learned how the moments of purest strength appear as weakness to those who don't know better is lined up over Callum accidentally hurting Ezran during play, and dropping his toy sword to make sure he's okay. Something about how Harrow learned this lesson in love from his children, and now he's trying to make sure they hang onto that lesson as they move forward with history.

"Reject history as a narrative of strength, and instead have faith that it can be a narrative of love."

Did Villads always know Rayla was an elf? I don't remember if we get that reveal later or if that was just a really good fic or something. I'm like 90% sure he asked about her name because he knew perfectly well she was an elf and was curious if she'd admit it.

The fact that she just outright says she's an assassin is either her being a true dumbass or having a culture clash moment because being an assassin in the Silvergrove is just like. A profession. A normal thing someone can do.

"Never give up on yer dreams!" He says when she confesses she's never killed anyone.

He has definitely killed people.

There are way too many discarded weapons and banners in the sands around as Harrow's party retreats in the flashback. I'm wondering if this is Viren's narrative license, making it seem worse than it was, the animators taking some license to just throw weapons in there to demonstrate the Vibe, or if it's evidence of other battles fought there recently.

The narrative parallel of Thunder appearing in Viren's story and then framing Zym in his silhouette.

"I love wisdom. Bring it." Rayla says in the present, and based on how often Runaan just pops off with some randomly profound idiom, I wanna imagine she's just used to getting random bits of wisdom from him.

Also like. I just started thinking about it again. And can we discuss how uh . . . she knows Harrow is dead. But . . . she didn't know yet that the other assassins died? She knew it was possible, that they expected it to be extra dangerous, but since they succeeded in their mission, she had to have wondered - did they escape? How many? Did they go home to report her betrayal? Or were they recuperating and going to hunt her and the boys down?

"Life is like a river. You can't see too far ahead. (I can't see at all, as I might have mentioned before.) You don't know where the river of life will bend and turn. You don't know where it'll go at all. Don't try to control where the river goes. There's one thing you can know and control - yourself. Look at yourself. Who are you, Rayla? What do you stand for? Once ye know that, then wherever the river takes ye, you'll be right where you were always meant to be."

Rayla does the dramatic teenager thing and tries to make a speech in response, but Villads really was pretty profound here.

Love how the one time Viren actually tries to help he actually just makes things incredibly worse for Annika and Neha - and also almost screwed up their sacrifice, by dying as well and making their efforts meaningless. Also Annika reaching back for Neha before Avizandum's tail struck them was just . . . a heart-wrenching detail.

"I don't know what's waiting on the other side." is a really neat moment of contrast, I think. Because here, Harrow is saying he doesn't know what lies beyond death; humans don't have that assurance. He believes he'll be able to watch over the boys, but he doesn't know for certain what death will be.

That's a really interesting contrast to how Moonshadow elves see death as not an end, because they do know what happens to their dead. They can summon them even, with the right magics. There's no issue of belief or uncertainty in death for them.

I really don't think Avizandum killed Sarai. He unhorsed her and Viren, and she was gasping for breath when Viren turned her over, but what, he in his pretty courtier's robes wasn't harmed but she in her full plate armor - having not hit anything, there were no rocks near her that could have hurt her this badly - was killed? Also, even his narration goes black before she takes her last breath, and she chokes on it like she was stabbed.

Because she fucking was. He has her last breath in a bottle because he killed her. Avizandum was already flying away when he ran over saying they needed to hurry. And then Sarai had had the wind knocked out of her, maybe jarred something badly enough in her plate that it was hard to move, and he saw this wild chance to remove this obstacle that kept pulling Harrow out of his control, so he took it.

I hope Sarai left bruises on him that he had to cover up. I hope he suffered with it.

Harrow telling Callum to reject history as a narrative of strength, and instead see it as a narrative of love, as Viren does exactly what Harrow warned about, and tells a story of epic battles and victories and strength, to Aanya.

I still hate that Sarai's statue is the moment she reached for Viren to save him. He tainted both of their memories.

"Are you ready?" "No. But you may open the doors." No. Gods, how could anyone be ready for this? How could anyone prepare to tell this little boy that you love, that you've taken into your home, whose mother you married, that you are still struggling to express your own love for, that his mother won't be coming home?

I do love that he hugged Callum first thing, though, and Callum hugged him back.

The Wish: for his children to be free of the sins of the past.

"As a father, I have a selfish wish." "Create a brighter future from your own hearts and imagination."

The way both Harrow and Runaan frame their wishes for their children to be better than they were as selfish.

As a more meta note, I do think it's neat that the creators were just like "Annika and Neha are Aanya's genetic parents. No we will not elaborate." and then they just didn't. That's the funniest possible way for them to handle a fantasy lesbian couple with a daughter. Is one of them trans? Was Aanya a magical test tube baby? Did one of her moms just use magic to swap bits for a little while to try for a baby like a World of Warcraft character? We don't know. That's not important. I cannot think of a funnier way they could have framed this. They didn't have to confirm to us that she was their genetic child at all, they just did it and left us to speculate. This is gold.

Wait is this why people in my Ao3 inbox keep commenting that Runaan and Ethari should have babies, because canon does just straight up have a same-sex presumably cis couple having a baby already

Aanya's "I believe that they would. But I will not." Is such a good moment, especially with Harrow and Callum's plot running simultaneously. Harrow is warning Callum of exactly what Viren is doing, and Aanya stands up and does exactly what Harrow wants Callum to know to do.

"I cannot repay a debt of a hundred thousand lives who were saved, by sending a million more to die in violence." Speak! Up! Aanya! Admittedly, this is why she felt a little weird to me in Season 7 encouraging Ezran down his nuclear deterrent type plans, but like. they're both kids in positions of power from very young ages. They were bound to have chaotic eras, and we don't really know what's been going on for her in the time lapse.

Viren going straight for the other king who has mentioned having children for help "talking sense into her" happened, didn't it. Did he ever do that to Harrow, I wonder? When Soren was being unruly, did he turn to Harrow in exasperation and ask him to help talk sense into the boy, only for Harrow to encourage Soren's athletic pursuits?

Again with the throwing a fit and resorting to violence in his anger, to the point of striking out at a king, physically shoving Ahling around.

The secret: the Key of Aaravos.

Archmage Aaravos, a master of all six Primal Sources. So they told us right here in season 2 that Primal Sources can be learned, because Aaravos learned them. Harrow knew that already, which is interesting.

WATERPROOF SOCKS INDEED, VILLADS. YES. THANK YOU.

Callum just really needing a hug from Ezran after reading the letter hits. I really really love how their brotherhood is portrayed in this show, never a joke, they're allowed to just be soft. "Is this a trick?" because yeah brothers do that shit to get close for pranks sometimes. "No, I just love you." "Well I love you too." I just. I just.

I appreciate that Villads just outright calls himself a pirate. That's great.

Also, something about how Callum and Harrow both have green eyes is getting me in the heart. They're not related. It's a coincidence. But I'm sure that hit Sarai in the chest a few times, watching them bond with each other, watching Callum start to pick up mannerisms and traits from Harrow, even if she never got to see their later form.

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zmasters · 11 months ago

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The Gunletter - A Warhammer 40K Story.

It’s a bloodletter, with a gun.

“Is this the right one?”

“I don’t know.”

These were the first words the bloodletter heard when he was taken from the Warp, taken away from the glorious battlegrounds of the Brass Keep. Stolen into realspace by, potentially, complete accident.

As the daemon felt his form adjust to the new reality, his sight still adjusting to a realm quieter than the realm of Chaos, he questioned why would anyone summon him on purpose.

“What do you mean you don’t know, witch?” A gruff voice roared. “What did I hire you for?”

“I never heard of this ‘Deadeye’ guy before.” A husky voice hissed back. “As long as you gave me the right true name, this should be it.”

“This is what I get for trusting a tribal witch”

“Remind me who wanted to summon a daemon.”

The bloodletter’s vision slowly adjusted to the point he could see. He was in a dark room, candles being the only source of light. Four figures stood in front of him. The summoner had skin made of turquoise scales and wore a brass horned helmet. Her tail wrapped around a blood stained staff radiating with pure psychic power. The so-called commissar wore a blood red cap and dirty black jacket, a bolt pistol on his hip and a power fist on his right arm. Behind him stood two soldiers, a male and female, garbed in blood red uniforms and black flak armor. They each carried a scoped rifle. Snipers.

“Thle’gzir’owaff. The Deadeye.” The witch hissed, speaking both the red daemon’s true name and use name. “I, Zuri no Kage, Shaman of the Oni, have summoned you to real space. You and I have been bound by Sirdar Vorghos to serve the Blood Pact’s needs.”

“Why do you demand my presence, daemon-kin?” Deadeye growled.

“I request your unique skill set in the coming battle against the Imperium of Man.” Vorghos order, struggling to save face in front of the daemon.

“Daemon-kin.” Deadeye continued, ignoring the human. His one pure black eye and one scarred, milky white eye focused on the mutant’s glowing purples. “I’ve heard of tales of your tribe venerating all neverborn as deities, kami as your kin call us.”

“That is correct, my lord.” Zuri bowed in a casual manner. Way too casual for the mortal soldiers’ comfort.

“I don’t disrespect the daemon, witch!”

“I’m not. And he’s not lying when he calls me kin.”

The three soldiers stared at her in confusion.

“I’m a master of possession.” The witch defended sheepishly.

“You smell of Slaaneth.”

“My past patron didn’t care for daemonic allegiance. The Word Bearer wanted an exalted daemon for a possession, a daemonette was the first thing that answered.”

Deadeye leaned into the mutant. “You also smell of blood. Gore mage?”

“I dabble.” She awkwardly giggled, breaking eye contact.

A claw was placed into the witch’s white hair, her tail happily waggin in response. “Our tools of war are rare, oft forgotten by our kin.” The daemon turned to the commander. “Why do you demand my presence, Sirdar Vorghos of the Blood Pact, formerly commissar of the Maccabian Janissaries?”

The former commissar instinctively reached for the bolt pistol on his hip.

The daemon’s scarred eye glanced towards the sniper team behind them. “Khuzri. Skor. How did one of the Anathema’s finest come to be the leader of a regiment of Kharneth’s mortal warriors?”

The split second the daemon glared at them, the sniper and the spotter dropped to their knees. “We only wish to serve!” The two yelled simultaneously.

“I don’t need slaves!” Deadeye roared back. “I need warriors! Are you two warriors?”

“W-We’re snipers m’lord.” The spotter, Skor, struggled to answer.

Deadeye steadied his arms. In each palm, burning smoke began to form. A metal bar appeared between his claws, slowly stretching into a longer form. After a few seconds, a brass musket sat comfortably in his arms. “Are you two warriors?”

Khuzri spoke up. “We have a combined twenty four kills under our belts.”

“Twenty four officers, generals, and warlords slain by our hands.” Skor added.

“Good... And how many more skulls will be added to our tallies today?”

“This moon, Kage as the locals call it, is one of eight moons that orbit the gas giant dubbed Amaterasu, which is one of eight planets in the Izanagi System, all of which sits under the thumb of the Blood Pact.” Vorghos sighed. “However, a rogue trader’s fleet has recently appeared in the system. While, thankfully, they haven’t realized who is truly in charge of this realm yet, we would like to eliminate this threat before they do. This requires us to strike in such a way so that both completely eliminates the fleet and quick enough that they can’t send a distress message back to the Imperium.”

“The shamans predict that the trader herself will be landing on my home in half a cycle.” Zuri interrupted.

“And this is where I step in.” Deadeye grunted.

“Yes, you and my snipers will take out the trader and her inner circle, and the fleet will strike during the confusion.”

“Where are they landing?”

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Local Time: 02:00 AM

Khuzri and Skor sat in silence on a small grassy hill, a pair of rifles pointed at an open field below them. Their ghillie suits mixed with the natural twilight of a gas giant partially obscuring the sun had made them practically invisible to the eye. And given that Kage is a feral world, the landing party wouldn’t go out of their way to search the landing sight for hostiles. To them, any expected threat is a feral tribal with a sharp stick.

A giant, metal bird roared through the sky. The thunderhawk transport was designed to carry tanks into battle. The rogue trader was using it to make landfall on a feral moon.

The snipers aimed their rifles. The shamans claimed that the kill shot will be three clicks away. Wind speed was eighteen knots. The two saw a red glint a few clicks away. The daemon was also adjusting its shot.

The thunderhawk kicked up a small cloud of dirt as it landed. Only more dust was kicked up as a Leman Russ battle tank rolled out of the transport. A squad of twenty guardsmen followed out, Vostroyan Firstborn by the look of their big hats and red jackets, creating a pseudo parade formation. A parade for, as far as they knew, only the trader sitting on top of the tank.

The titular rogue trader was donned in black power armor that emphasized her physical features to a ridiculous degree. Khuzri stifled a chuckle as she noticed how the suit of power armor enhanced some “features.” Her scope returned to her target, as the showboat wasn’t her prey. Instead Khuzri glared at the last man out of the bird, a robed man carrying a large staff. Somesort of preacher she thought, but the tubes connecting to his head were common amongst sanctioned psykers. Either way, a worthy target.

Skor focused his aim on a guardsmen equipped with a chainsword. The sergeant led the squad in this mock parade, belting orders that neither sniper could make out. While his black helmet and bulky uniform covered what this man actually looked like, Skor knew all the signs of a competent officer.

Once everyone was out, the thunderhawk took to the air. Three seconds passed, the transport disappeared to the sky as the convoy paraded to Khorne knows where. Three triggers were pulled. Three deafening cracks faded into one. The first to fall was the staff carrying man. A hole formed in his chest as a mix of blood, bone, and blue psychic energy filled the air. The second to fall was the sergeant. Being at the front of this convoy, he collapsed forward into the red mist that formed, blood pooling from his neck wound. The last to fall was the trader herself, screaming profanities as she tumbled off the tank.

Unlike her psyker and sergeant, the trader wasn’t shot, and the only wound she suffered was a small cut and a concussion that formed when her unarmored head struck the side of the Leman Russ. Instead, a molten metal bullet bored through the hull of the tank, and the trader was jolted off the cannon when the tank suddenly braked.

The three snipers adjusted their aim, and three more shots rang out. Two more guards fell and a second hole formed in the tank. Thirteen of the squad ducking behind cover of the tank as the four remaining guards helped the trader up.

“Ready?” Skor asked over the vox.

Deadeye’s channel was silent. While he physically had a vox, granted to him by Zuri, he hasn’t been using it to communicate.

“Now…”

Khuzri and Skor followed the silent order that echoed in their minds.

The side of the damaged tank was painted red in gore. Two Vostroyans collapsed to the ground, two bleeding wounds where their hearts used to be. The third bullet, the daemonic bullet, found its target not in a guardsman or the tank hull.

The rogue trader glanced down. Her black armor glowed a molten brass, the sludge slowly melting skin and metal alike. A final breath escaped her lips as her ribs, lungs, and heart liquified. The last thought going through her mind was less of a scream of pain and more a question. “This doesn’t hurt. Why doesn’t this hurt?”

The noble woman, destined to bring glory to her house and the God-Emperor, slumped over dead on a backwater moon, blindly walking into an ambush that doomed her entire fleet.

“Fifteen left…” Deadeye growled, quickly loading another round in the chamber. Skor has claimed three skulls. So has Khuzri. He had only taken two, having spent a round to take out the Leman Russ’s engine. He lined up the shot, slaying another guard and piercing a hole into the hull. “Fourteen. Four skulls.”

The two mortals, not wishing to appear to be failures in front of the daemon, both seemed to claim the last soldier not in cover. Skor was quicker on the draw, tying his kill count while Khuzri spent the first missed round.

“Frak.” She cursed, firing another round at a head poking around the side of the tank. It grazed their armor. “Frak!”

“Impatient.”

Skor, in contrast to his partner, was silent, calculating, focused. So focused on the left side of the tank that he failed to notice the sniper peak out on the right side. A dirt cloud kicked up by the bullet filled the air, alongside a string of curses from the blinded mortals.

“Unaware.”

The guard sniper lined up a shot again. Deadeye counter sniped, sacrificing a skull for a guaranteed kill.

“Mortals, hold your fire till you have the killing shot, but do not zone in on your target. Keep an eye open for threats. Be patient, and be aware.”

Khuzri and Skor realigned their sights as the dirt cloud faded away.

“Thirteen left. Don’t worry about who can kill the most, just focus on the mission.”

The two mortals took a deep breath. “Ready.”

Most of the firstborn charged out, a volley of red lasrounds covering the three guards trying to get into the tank.

Without speaking, the three focused their aim on the three climbing on the tank. Three kills.

“Relocate.”

Khuzi and Skor split off, running to new positions. The remainder of the squad split to follow them.

As the mortals were distracted, Deadeye took position at where the two snipers were set up. Two more guards were killed before they realized what happened.

This distraction allowed the mortal snipers to go prone and readied their rifles.

Khuzi fired first, followed by Skor, and Deadeye. Another volley followed, and three more were slain.

“Two left.”

The last two guards ducked back behind the tank.

“What’s the call?” Khuzi asked over the vox chat.

The daemon’s growl echoed through the mortals' minds. “Each of you pick one and decide what to do with them.” Once he was done, his rifle vanished, he stood up, and walked away.

“Where are you going?” Skor asked.

“My pact is almost complete. I no longer need to be here any more.”

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“Tea should be done in a few.”

Deadeye didn’t reply, the daemon was too busy looking around the room. He was kneeling on a soft cushion, a small table with a plate of onigiri placed right in front of him. Zuri placed a kettle on a wood-burning stove. The hut was well furnished, clean, a place that doesn’t look like a place a blood witch would own.

“I’m surprised you aren’t joining the Blood Pact in attacking the fleet.” The teal mutant said.

“I can ask you the same.”

“Didn’t seem like a good fight.” Zuri’s voice was partially drowned out by the screeching kettle.

“Are you sure it’s not because of the spawn of the twentieth already on board?”

Zuri’s face dropped. “What?”

Deadeye gave the closest thing to a smile he could give. “Forty years ago your mother summoned me into real-space so I can get shoved head first into a teal hound-shaped box.”

“S-sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, I’m hunting her down, not you, Theta von Hellebor.”

“Zuri. It’s Zuri. My mom is the granddaughter of a Kage tribal smitten by a knight freeblade. My mom is the noble woman prosecuted for her mutations. My mom is the one to become the pet project of an Alpha Legionnaire with too much time on his hands and became his master of executions and his soul link. My mom is the one to sabetouge records so that this system no longer existed to the Imperium. My mom is the one who conquered the shoguns and claimed the green gas giant overhead and its satellites as hers. My mom is the von Hellebor. I’m just Zuri, the local witch who lives in a hut in the woods.”

“Zuri.” Deadeye growled softly. “You and I are the same.”

“Liking guns more than your other daemons isn’t the same as trying to live up to a proper lord.” She sighed. “You have no idea how I feel.”

“I… I…” Deadeye struggled to speak. “I… don’t know. I don’t know how you feel. I am a tool made for war and murder, I do not have parental figures to match up to. I guess Khorne would be a parent of sorts and… I don’t know if he’s proud of me.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“Why would he be?” Deadeye sighed. “I’m not honorable and I don’t kill nearly as many as my kin.”

“Because Khorne isn’t just the god of honor and murder.” Zuri gave the daemon a fang filled smile. “He's also the god of war.”

“So?”

“While the legions of berserkers and beast riders fight the wars, they don’t win them. It’s the strategists that win them. So one willing to put aside personal glory to win. And you, my bloody brother, are the one to win wars.”

“T-Thank you.” Deadeye grinned. “But I have to ask, are you really working with the Blood Pact? Was this a plan to kill your mother, or are you handing her and her astarte handlers new playthings?”

Zuri giggled, pouring the kettle of tea into two cups. “My answer will depend on who wins the coming fight.”

“You are a snake.”

“Says the sniper.”

#warhammer #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #short story #chaos 40k #warhammer oc #warhammer fanfic #warhammer chaos #warhammer daemon #chaos daemons #40k #wh 40k #wh fandom #40k daemon #khorne

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laflenkenway · 2 years ago

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Book 23, and you're right, because Skor has *actual fucking armor* and Felldoh's javelins don't even have real, metal points on them.

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creampuffqueen · 4 years ago

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Just Like This | Chapter Two

a/n: Hey friends! It's been a hot second, but here's chapter two! This chapter is about a high school football game, but written by someone who has never attended a high school football game as a student (I was always performing haha) I also have no idea how football works and yet wrote Rayla explaining it to Callum! So please forgive any inaccuracies lol. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3846

Warnings: Dirty jokes/innuendos, language

Read on Ao3

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Friday, October 5th, 2020

Callum’s house, 6:02 PM

HONK HONK HONK!

Rayla leaned on the horn of her car with a snicker, face splitting into a wide grin when the front door of Callum’s house opened. He was still putting his jacket on, and his mother followed him out, fussing.

“Have fun!” Sarai called as Callum clambered into the passenger seat, face red.

“Bye Mrs. Prince!” Rayla shouted back, waving goodbye as she put the vehicle in drive. Callum just groaned, putting his face in his hands and shaking his head.

“God, my mom’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s sweet,” Rayla assured, “At least you know she cares.”

Callum quirked an eyebrow, but didn’t press at the statement hidden in those words. Instead, he turned his gaze out the window. “This isn’t the way to school, Rayla.”

“Duh, I’m not stupid,” She snarked back, “We have to go pick up Andie and Callisto. I just didn’t tell your mom, because technically I’m only supposed to drive with one other person, but I don’t really care about that rule.”

“Fair enough.” Callum opened up the glovebox, rifling through all the trash to find the CDs stored beneath. Her car was old enough that the radio still used CDs rather than just connecting to a phone. He found one that seemed good, and put it in the player.

At the next red light. Rayla took her eyes off the road to glare at Callum with full force as Taylor Swift’s voice filled her little car. “Where did you even find that?”

Her best friend gave a knowing smirk. “It was actually at the top of the pile. Which is weird, since you supposedly hate Taylor Swift.”

The light turned green, and Rayla was forced to look away, though her ears still burned. “I never said I hated all her music. Just the new stuff.”

“Oh, so you’re a country Taylor fan?”

“If you don’t shut up and change the music before Andromeda gets in this car I swear to god I will throw you onto the concrete.”

Callum responded by nonchalantly tossing his legs onto the dashboard. “What, like we don’t all already know you’re not as badass as you pretend to be? You’ve got a reputation to hold with us?”

“I hate you.”

He dragged a hand through his fluffy brown hair, leaning further back in the seat. “No, you love me.”

Rayla gave him her middle finger, even as her face seemed to suddenly catch fire. If only you knew.

Thankfully, she pulled up outside of Andromeda’s house just in time. The other girl could diffuse some of the sudden tension, and maybe in a few minutes Rayla could look back at Callum without her head going all fuzzy.

“Hellooooo fellow sexy people!” Andromeda crooned as she plopped into the backseat, “How are we all feeling this fine evening?”

Glancing behind him, Callum’s eyes widened at the other girl’s outfit. She was completely decked out in the colors of Katolis High School, red and gold covering her entire body.

“I thought you were just wearing that getup for the first game?”

Andromeda shrugged. “Why not for every game? It’s fun.” She tugged at the red and gold jersey emblazoned with the number eight, then twirled her silvery hair tied into two pigtails with red ribbon.

“Let’s go get Callisto,” Rayla suggested, pulling out of her friend’s driveway.

“Perfect,” Andromeda replied.

As they drove, Rayla continued to speak, “Ground rules: you and Callisto keep your hands to yourselves in my car. I don’t care what you do at the game, but I’m not having any bodily fluids on my nice seats. Am I clear?”

“You and Callum with your ground rules,” The other girl sighed, “But fine. You two clearly think way worse of us than we actually are, though.”

Rayla and Callum shared a grin between them. Andromeda and Callisto were great on their own, but ever since they’d begun dating freshmen year they’d starting getting all handsy. Rayla knew, because Andie shared everything with her, that they hadn’t gone all the way, not yet.

Key word: yet.

And god help her, they were not going to complete their yet in her backseat.

It wasn’t long before they pulled up to Callisto’s house finding them similarly decked out for the Friday night game.

“Well now I’m feeling underdressed,” Callum snorted, glancing at the couple behind him. True to their word, they were keeping a perfectly respectable distance, but everyone knew it wouldn’t last.

“You’re wearing red,” Callisto suggested awkwardly, gesturing to his read scarf. “Just not the right shade.”

“I’ve got extra ribbons for my hair, if you want some, Rayla,” Andromeda offered.

As they pulled into the stadium parking lot, the sun rapidly setting behind them, Rayla turned back to her friend with a grin. “Yes please. You’re so good at hair, Andie.”

The group piled out of the car, Callisto and Andromeda holding hands, as expected. Callum turned to her with a smile and offered his arm. Nudging his side affectionately, Rayla hooked it with her own, desperately trying to keep her face from reddening.

Soon enough they were inside the stadium, and Callum had let go of her arm to pull out his phone and ask where the rest of their friends were. Rayla’s phone buzzed, probably from the group chat, and she opened it up to find where Claudia, Ram, and Skor were sitting.

Claudia: We’re on the far right of the bleachers

Claudia: Kind of near where the band is sitting. We’ve got a really good view close to the top

Ram: Hurrrrry

Andromeda: stfu ram, we’re coming

Ram: If Callisto’s with you then you’ll certainly be coming ;)

Andromeda: I’m going to obliterate your tiny twig ass

Claudia: ANYWAY

Claudia: My friend Nyx from theater class is here, is it okay if she sits with us? Maybe not for the whole game bc she says her friends are coming but just for the start

Their small group began to make their way to the far side of the stadium, where Claudia said they were, while Andromeda still had her nose in her phone. Probably insulting Ram, if Rayla had to guess. The idea of another person staying with them bothered her, if she was honest. They already had their friend group; they didn’t need to add anyone else.

Callum: Yeah sure, it’s fine

With a slight sigh, Rayla followed her friends up the steps of the bleachers until Claudia came into view, standing up and waving. Callum bounded up the stairs, a wide grin on his face. When he reached her, Claudia gave him a quick hug, then released him to reach for Rayla.

“Everyone, this is Nyx!” After hugging everyone, Claudia turned towards her other friend to introduce her. Nyx was sitting casually on the metal seats, and she gave a cheerful wave.

“Hi Nyx,” Everyone seemed to chorus in unison, making the other girl chuckle slightly.

Soon everyone had settled onto the metal bleachers, waiting for the game to begin. Tonight they were going against Neolandia, a longtime rival. The other school had a bit of a reputation for playing dirty, and everyone had resolved to keep a sharp eye out during the game for any instance of foul play.

But every thought about the impending football game flew from Rayla’s head as Callum leaned against her side, his soft hair brushing right below her eyes.

“Aren’t you cold?” He asked, giving a pointed glance to her bare arms.

“I probably will be later,” She admitted, taking in her outfit. Jeans, Converse, and a red and gold t-shirt wouldn’t do much to shield her from the cold when the sun went down.

“Just tell me and I’ll share my jacket,” Callum promised with a good-natured laugh. Rayla’s eyes widened a bit. Was he serious?

She was jolted from her thoughts by a sudden tap on her shoulder. Andromeda sat behind her, several hair ties and various ribbons clutches in her hands.

“Braids or pigtails, Rayla?”

“Er…” Slightly unsure, she took one of the red ribbons from her friend’s hand and twisted it slightly in her own.

“Braids,” Callum finished the sentence for her, “Your hair looks good in braids.”

“It really does look good like that,” Andromeda hummed appreciatively, dragging Rayla to sit closer to her so she could brush her fingers through her silver hair.

With the motion of Andromeda rhythmically combing her hair, Rayla allowed herself to relax in the familiarity of her friends. All around her they talked idly, Claudia’s snort-laugh punctuating sentences, Callum’s voice cracking providing plenty of entertainment.

The buzzer rang to begin the game just as Andromeda tied off the second braid, flicking both of them over Rayla’s shoulders so she could see them better.

“Oh, they’re so pretty!” She leaned back to give Andromeda a hug. “Thanks, Andie.”

“GO SOREN!” Claudia screamed suddenly, causing Rayla to nearly topple backwards into Andromeda’s lap. Everyone around them flinched, and they got a couple dirty looks from the other spectators.

Claudia didn’t seem to care, though. She was standing, cheering ecstatically for the blob moving down below, who must have been Soren. At some point she’d acquired pom-poms. From where, Rayla had no clue.

Callum and Rayla shared a look, neither of them lasting very long before bursting out laughing. If Claudia noticed, she didn’t show it, and kept cheering in the stands for her older brother.

“Woohoo!” Andromeda pumped her fist, though she didn’t stand up and join the junior girl. Instead she scooted over on the metal seat to sit next to Callisto, nearly tossing herself in their lap. Her partner just rolled their eyes and wrapped an arm around Andromeda’s waist.

Claudia’s cheering eventually faded into the background, letting Rayla focus on the field. They were rapidly taking yard lines, but it was only the first quarter. Things could change. Though she sure hoped not; if they were going to lose a game to anyone it had better not be Neolandia.

Then, on the next play, someone tossed the ball high and far, and Rayla was on the edge of her seat, and it was getting closer and closer to the endzone-

“TOUCHDOWN!” Claudia roared, sweet demeanor evaporating in the spirit of the game. “WE GOT A TOUCHDOWN!”

“We got a what?” Callum glanced up from his sketchbook. Both Rayla and Claudia whipped around to glare at him, neither realizing he’d brought it out. In an unspoken agreement, Claudia distracted him with a piercing stare, giving Rayla just the opening she needed to snatch the book from his hands.

“Hey!” The other boy yelped, but it was too late, and Rayla was already sprinting down the steps of the bleachers, sketchbook in hand.

“You’ll get it back after you watch the game!” She shouted from below, sticking her tongue out to blow a raspberry.

“Oh, very mature Rayla!”

“Come watch the game!”

His pout was absolutely adorable, and Rayla flushed at the thought, waving the stolen sketchbook high in the air. “Come watch with me!”

Finally, he relented, though not without a fair amount of complaining and cursing as he traipsed down the bleachers to get to her side.

“You are an evil person.”

She giggled, tucking the book under an arm. “I’m the weirdly sexy villain on a kids’ TV show.”

Callum just sighed. “Not funny.”

“Excuse you!” Rayla shot back, giving a dramatic wail, “I am the funniest person in this entire school!”

He made a weak grab for his sketchbook, but Rayla simply danced out of the way. “Nuh uh, no sir. You are going to watch the game with me.”

“But I don’t even know how football works,” Callum complained, gesturing to the field. The timer was paused, and Katolis was ahead, though not by much. It was going to be a tight game.

“Then I’ll teach you. And you’ll have fun, and learn to enjoy football, and we can all be a big happy friend group and you won’t have your face buried in a sketchbook.”

“For the record, I like having my face buried in a sketchbook-”

“Nonsense!” Rayla exclaimed, “You’re going to have fun. Without this old thing.”

“Alright, alright,” Callum sighed, “I’ll put it away. Can I please have it back?”

Rayla finally relented with a triumphant grin. “Let’s go back up top; you can see way better. Plus we’re near the band so we get to hear their stand tunes up close and personal.”

They arrived back at their seats just as the timer started again, and Rayla began her intense rundown of the inner workings of football. Callum tried to pay attention, but she could tell everything was going right over his head. Finally, she just settled for, “Cheer whenever our side is cheering, and you’ll fit right in.”

In the time it took to explain the first quarter had nearly ended, with Neolandia pulling ahead. Claudia was doing an elaborate pompom routine to rival the cheerleaders down below, even involving Nyx for parts.

“Gimme an S! Gimme an O! Gimme a R-E-N! What does that spell!?”

“Soren!” Nyx finished, and Claudia waved her pompoms triumphantly. Rayla watched them both with slightly piqued interest, flicking her ribbon-braided hair back and forth over her shoulder.

“Rayla, Callum-” She was pulled from her thoughts by Skor’s booming voice as he walked near them. “First quarter is over, we’re going to get some snacks. Come with?”

“I’m starving!” Callum chuckled, “It’s definitely time to stuff my face with junk food.”

“There’s the football game spirit!” Rayla cheered, clapping her friend on the shoulder. “Let’s go consume sugar-rich foods in unhealthily excessive portion sizes!”

The small group left Nyx and Claudia to their pompoms, and Callisto and Andromeda to… whatever it was they were doing. Perhaps trying to fuse their faces together? Whatever it was, it was gross and making everyone want to leave for a minute.

Beneath the bleachers was crowded with students and parents alike. Callum linked one hand with her, offering the other to Ram, attempting to keep from losing their group in the crowd.

It was a struggle to keep her face neutral. All her thoughts suddenly surged away from her head, instead focusing on that single point of contact. Were her hands sweating? God, she hoped they weren’t. She hoped she wasn’t the only one feeling too many emotions to count.

In the line for the snack bar (or, what she hoped was the line, as it was too crowded to properly tell) Callum didn’t meet her eyes, but his grip was firm as he pointed out the menu. Ram and Skor stood nearby, having foregone holding Callum’s other hand. Rayla wasn’t sure if she was happy for it or not.

“If we pool our money we can get a hot dog for everybody,” Skor suggested, “And maybe some popcorn too.”

“Yeah,” Callum agreed, “Let’s get a few popcorns and we can all share in pairs. Like you two, Claudia and Nyx, me and Rayla, and then the two leeches.”

“If they ever come up for air,” Rayla snickered, and she was greeted with Callum’s resounding voice-cracky laugh, and he truly turned to meet her eyes.

“Wanna bet they’ll eat it out of each others’ mouths?”

Rayla pretended to gag, “They’d better not.”

“Oh! Wait! They’ll eat the hot dogs like in the spaghetti scene from Lady and the Tramp!” Ram snickered, and his suggestion was met with varying levels of disgust.

Finally, it was their turn to order. As they all gathered up their food Rayla could hear the buzzer on the field and more cheering from their side, so she hustled her friends back onto the bleachers.

Just in time, too. On the field, the ball flew into the endzone, and the entire Katolis side erupted into cheers. The band started playing a tune, and the cheerleaders began a mini routine.

“THAT’S MY BROTHER!” Claudia screamed over the roaring of the stadium, bouncing so hard Rayla wondered how she hadn’t simply flown away yet. Andromeda was standing on her seat to cheer, Callisto’s arm wrapped her around her waist to keep her steady.

“Gold! And red! We’ll knock ‘em dead!” On the edge of the field, the cheerleaders chanted carrying it throughout the stands. The band kicked into a higher gear, playing the school’s iconic fight song that had everyone clapping to the beat. Out on the field, Rayla could spot Soren’s blond head among the other players, pumping his fists in triumph.

“So I’m assuming we did something good?” Callum shouted over the din, wading through the throng of people to sit back down on their metal seats. One of his hands was still attached to hers, and Rayla had no intentions of letting go any time soon.

“Yes, dummy!” She giggled back, pointing to the scoreboard. They finally were able to reach their seats, and plopped back down while the cheers began to fade. Callum had been holding one of the bags of popcorn, and he placed it between them so they both could share. Ram and Skor passed out the rest of the food, and the group all relaxed once more.

When the game was finally up and running again, Nyx turned away from Claudia’s intense one-woman cheer session to face Rayla and Callum, plopping pieces of popcorn in her mouth. Her eyes, one blue and one amber, honed in on Rayla in such a way that an embarrassed flush crept up her cheeks with little warning.

“You two look cozy,” She remarked with a smirk. Rayla’s face burned hotter, and she resisted the urge to scoot away. Callum blinked in surprise, glancing between Rayla and Nyx.

“Callum’s my best friend,” Rayla replied, though it sounded lame, even to her. “We’ve always been close.”

The other girl just smiled broader. “It’s so cute. At least you guys are way more subtle than those two over there.” She gave a pointed glance behind them, and Rayla didn’t even have to turn to know that Andromeda and Callisto were making out. Again.

“Oh, uh, we’re- we’re not dating…” Callum said awkwardly.

“You’re not?” Nyx blinked up in mock surprise. “I mean, you’re sharing a popcorn, she’s practically in your lap-”

“I am not!” Indignantly, Rayla shot a glare at the other girl.

Nyx just rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, lovebugs.” Reaching for more popcorn, she turned back around in her seat to chat with Claudia some more.

“Well, she’s something,” Callum muttered under his breath, “Going out and assuming things.” He met Rayla’s eyes, then looked away just as quickly, like he hadn’t meant to be heard. “I mean, us dating?”

Rayla’s whole face was on fire. Scratch that, her whole body was on fire. Was she having a panic attack? Is this what a panic attack felt like?

“Crazy, huh?” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. The two teenagers shared an awkward laugh that did nothing to lessen the tension, then went back to eating their popcorn.

Rayla didn’t have much of an appetite anymore.

The rest of the game was a blur she hardly remembered, points and scores blending from one to the next. On the outside she was smiling, laughing, cheering. On the inside she was empty.

Before long the last buzzer had rung, and Katolis had won the game by the skin of their teeth. The band played their final tune, and everyone began to vacate the stands.

With the crowd that had come to the game, it took a while to make it back to Rayla’s car. They said their goodbyes to their friends while they walked their separate ways, promising to see them again on Monday.

It was pretty late, nearly 10:30, so the chatter that had filled the car on the way in had lessened now. Andromeda and Callisto were even talking, rather than engaged in a lip-lock. In the passenger seat, Callum once again had his feet up on the dashboard, and was sketching by the light of the stadium floodlights as they waited their turn to leave the parking lot.

When they finally exited, the talking stilled even further. There was no sound in the car save for the radio, and the quiet scratching of pencil lead on paper.

Callisto was dropped off first, Andromeda not too long after. And then it was just Rayla and Callum, alone once again.

She pulled into his driveway and put the car in park, letting it idle while he gathered his things. He reached for the door handle, but something stopped him. He turned back to face her.

“Rayla, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” She echoed, “For what?”

Callum scratched at the back of his neck. “For making things all awkward. You know I’m not good being put on the spot like that, but I just made things worse and I’m sorry.”

“You mean about Nyx?”

“Yeah.”

Rayla shrugged. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. It’s her who should be sorry, assuming and being an ass and all that.”

“Still.” Callum glanced down at his sketchbook, still open. After a moment’s hesitation, he reached down and tore out the page. Rayla only had enough time to furrow her eyebrows in confusion - Callum never tore out pages of his sketchbook - before the page was in her hands.

Oh.

It was a picture of her. She was smiling, and her hair was braided with ribbons. It was a picture of her just tonight.

“You’re my best friend, Rayla.” She glanced back up to see Callum’s earnest expression as he spoke. “I don’t wanna let something stupid come between us. Whatever Nyx said doesn’t matter, okay? We know what we are.”

“Yeah,” Rayla said, punctuating the sentence with a half-hearted laugh.

“Okay,” Callum chuckled, “Glad we’re on the same page. We communicate, you know?” His grin was real as he stepped out of the car.

“See you on Monday, Rayla.”

She waited for him to reach his front door, making sure he got inside safely, before she pulled away. She was so exhausted that she drove all the way home nearly in a daze (which would have been way more unsafe if she hadn’t just been driving through a neighborhood).

It wasn’t until she was back at home in her own driveway, car turned off, that everything truly hit.

If he hadn’t been clear before, he was crystal now. He may as well have outright said, ‘I just see you as a friend and I’ll never see you as anything else’. Maybe being so upfront would make things easier, and keep her from clinging to stupid, false hope.

Rayla refused to let herself cry. Don’t cry, not over him. He’s still your friend. Take what you can get.

So she got out of the car, went inside, and went to bed. And maybe she cried, just a little.

No, you love me, he’d said with that adorable little grin of his.

Okay, maybe more than just a little.

~~~~

a/n: AHHHHHH I feel bad for Rayla and I PUT HER THROUGH THIS PAIN. They never even got to share Callum's jacket because Nyx made things awkward :(

Tag List (comment to be added or removed):

@hipster-rapunzel

#mal writes fic #the dragon prince #tdp #rayllum #rayla x callum #rayla #callum #claudia #soren

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beautifulterriblequeen · 4 years ago

Note

41. "Can you be the one to do it?"

I hope you’re ready for Ruthari and also moonfam angst.

Can you be the one to do it?

The runic message pops up unexpectedly, displaying over its communication crystal in a softly glowing turquoise font Ethari designed just for Runaan. The crystal’s low vibing alert noise rumbles against his worktable for extra noticeability. Ethari knows how hard he focuses when he’s in the zone, but if Runaan needs him--if he sends him a text--Ethari wants to be damn sure he gets it in a timely manner.

His heart goes molten, and then icy, melting a hole straight through him, out the bottom of his feet, through the tree house, into the earth. It takes with it a magmatic cry of denial that Ethari wishes he couldn’t hear.

But he can. It’s his own cry, from the moment he learned of Lain and Tiadrin’s betrayal. It echoes forward through time, bouncing off this moment like a desperate bird fleeing a forest fire, frantic to escape the reality that’s burning down the world.

Ethari saw it in his husband’s eyes when Runaan told him. He’d seen it. The fracture in those flawless gemstone eyes. He could hear the crystalline wrench that spidered fault lines through Runaan’s heart. Runaan used to know his exact place in this world, down to the very millimeter, the very second, the very breath. Heir to Tiadrin, mentor to Rayla, leader of the Moonshadow assassins, bearer of a thousand years of unbroken Moonshadow honor. He’d done his best to hold everything at once, and Ethari willingly added his strength to that grip, holding Runaan as well.

Together, they held so much.

But in the middle of the afternoon, Runaan’s eyes shattered, and his soul along with them.

Gems aren’t metal. You can’t just melt them down and start over. You can’t just erase their damage, reforge their strength from the start. Gems are fragile, for all their solidity. Brittle. They hold, until they don’t. And once they crack, there is no repairing them.

Ethari saw, felt, heard his husband’s spirit split. He told Ethari the news, coolly, hiding his shaking hands, and then he spun on his heel and said he had work to do. He left. He ran. Ethari reeled back from that moment, retreating to his workshop after Runaan left. And now, an hour later, this message.

Can you be the one to do it?

Ethari knows what Runaan’s talking about. But he’s feeling shut out, aching, hurt. He needs connection. Even if he gets it from pushing Runaan into admitting his feelings. He picks up the message crystal and presses at its facets.

Do what? he asks.

And then he stares at the crystal. Willing Runaan to admit he’s hurting too. Willing him to confess he needs help. Let me help you, my heart.

Runaan’s single-rune reply comes in a minute later.

Rayla.

Ethari hopes he was staring at his crystal, too. His fingertips hover, about to agree to tell Rayla about her parents’ horrible, confusing, painful choice. About to take that burden from Runaan’s shoulders.

Then he thinks again. Runaan waited to reply. Runaan always knows what he wants to say, choosing his words with exquisit care. Why did he wait?

Ethari rests his hands on his worktable and stares at Rayla’s name. After so many years, he’s fluent in Runaan. Everything the assassin does is an open book to the craftsman’s eager, curious, willing heart. If he can just take a moment, he can suss this mystery out...

Runaan, you’ve asked me to do something, he thought. Something you had to text me about, rather than ask. The crystals are for things we don’t want to say aloud. There’s more here than just shock and your assassin tasks, isn’t there?

Ethari drags the weeping shreds of his own heart together, and he focuses through the pain. Focuses on Runaan, on what Runaan would be focusing on right now.

Duty. Always duty. What’s he doing? The very first thing he’s doing right now, what is it? Ethari’s mind leaps to Tiadrin’s other chosen assassins. He’s telling them, too. They deserve to know first. And he’s thought of Rayla. Of course he has! She’s Tiadrin’s daughter. She needs to know first, too. But...

An echo of Ethari’s cry bounces off another tree in his heart, still fleeing from that initial heartbreak. But he can’t. He can’t be as hard with her as he can with his old squad. He loves Rayla more softly than those he trained with under Tiadrin’s tutelage. And he can’t break her heart like this.

He’s asking me to do it for him. But he’s hesitating, too.

Ethari draws a shaky breath. “You’re not certain about this, are you, love?” he whispers to the message crystal. “You’re out there looking like the leader everyone needs you to be. But you’re just as lost as everyone else. You’re just as lost as I am.”

His bottom lip trembles, and the crystal vanishes inside a sudden fist. If you fall, my heart, we all fall. He can’t even say it out loud, the vulnerable truth runs so deep through his soul. He’s seen Runaan’s soft heart broken before. So much more is at stake this time. Everything’s at stake. Ethari’s next move will determine Runaan’s path. And where Runaan goes, so go the Moonshadow elves.

I must be perfect, the craftsman realizes. For Runaan, and for everyone i love. I must be perfect.

He wipes sweaty palms on his pants and nibbles at his lip, holding an aching breath in his lungs

Then his thumbs move across the crystal’s facets, and the fate of the world is sealed.

No. Hold to your duty, my heart. You can do this. I believe in you.

__________________

Runaan stares at the lavender runes hovering over his crystal, feeling a shocked tear gather in the corner of one eye. Heavy stone doors in his heart, open for years and years now, begin to rumble shut before the pain of Ethari’s message can truly sink in.

I’m on my own. Again.

“Runaan?” Andromeda asks, pulling his attention back across the room where his colleagues and friends have gathered to begin planning their honor-bound response to Tiadrin’s baffling cowardice.

Runaan blinks and takes a deep breath. The honor of the Moonshadow elves isn’t going to save itself.

Very well. To the task, then.

“One moment, before we begin,” he says. “There is another whose honor is at stake, and she deserves to be involved here, as well, to whatever degree she chooses.”

“Rayla?” Skor asks doubtfully.

Runaan lifts his chin and offers a cool stare. “My protégé, as I was Tiadrin’s.”

With her lineage established, the other assassins all nod. They trust Runaan as much as any among them, all of whom trained under Tiadrin’s expert tutelage. When he says Rayla should be included as part of Tiadrin’s assassin legacy, they instinctively agree.

“We’ll wait, then,” Ram murmurs, running a finger along the point of a dagger.

Runaan nods crisply and heads outside into the chilly winter air. He crosses the village, heading for Rayla’s school.

Ethari was right, he tells himself, over and over, as the cold breeze infiltrates his skin and tousles his ponytail. This is my duty, and mine alone. My squad and I will go to Katolis together. But this part, breaking Rayla’s heart for love of our people... Only I can do that. Only I should do that.

Ethari was right to tell me no. He was right. I was too soft. It won’t happen again.

Runaan strides into the school and pauses at the door of the round classroom Rayla’s currently in. Chin high, hands clasping his forearms behind his back, waiting to be seen. Slowly, his presence sinks in, and one by one the young Moonshadows look over at him with wide eyes. Then they all look at Rayla.

Rayla.

She slouches against her pillow, flicking her pen in the air and catching it like a dagger, only half listening to the history lesson, her eyes on the window, mind elsewhere.

“Rayla,” the teacher prompts gently.

His protégé’s mood shifts instantly at the sight of him. Her eyes light up, and she leaps to her feet, immediately attentive. “Runaan!”

The conspiratorial smile that lurks in the corner of Rayla’s mouth drags Runaan’s heart out, kicking and screaming, through the closing gap in those heavy stone doors. She thinks she’s free. The thought stabs at him. He tenses his gut and starts driving it back inside again. She thinks I’m saving her from her boring class. I’m not freeing her. I’m binding her. Moon help me, Tiadrin. How did you manage this part with me?

“...Runaan? Is something wrong?”

Runaan’s hands clench around his forearms. He blinks away his tears and lifts his chin. “Rayla... come with me.”

#ruthari angst #moonfam angst #tdp angst #runaan #ethari #rayla #my writing #hooo boy #just headcanoned to my dc peeps that ruthari send texts for bad news #and good news in person #so ethari texting back is bad news and they both know it #aaaaaa it's so angsty help #i kept runaan and ethari separate because that makes the isolating feelings worse #yes i know #it's right there in the blog name #written to lady gaga's Just Dance #big moonshadow mood recently #is it bad that making that song an irl mood would be a step up from where i am rn #anyway i need to visit my chickens because rayla hopped onto the warmer and that's adorable and i need soft chick time now

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oscarhellichius · 5 years ago

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På dörren står någon annans namn, eller på brevinkastet står L. Persdotter. Jag heter något annat. Hyran på 2800 ska betalas den tjugonde. När den betalas har jag inte mycket pengar kvar. Som tur har jag mina föräldrar. Eller min förälder. Min bästa vän. Hjälpte mig att få den här lägenheten. Med hjälp av en förälder. Jag är mycket tacksam. Jag tycker om att bo här. 20 kvadrat, wifi, en halvstor tv. Redan inred. Tapeten i hallen och i resten av lägenheten är vit. I hallen som golv ligger sten liknande plattor som är lättstädade. Till vänster har vi fyra garderobsdörrar. Till höger på det stenliknande golvet står något som du kan ställa dina skor på och i, den är gjord av någon typ av metall. jag har två par av skor, ett par använder jag, ett par använder jag inte men har använt. De jag använder är svarta läderskor, de har nedsliten klack, som har gjort att jag har ont på insidan av ett av mina knän men mer om det senare. Skosnörena är sönder, så ibland tar det väldigt lång tid att knyta upp och knyta skorna. Men det gör inget för jag tycker väldigt mycket om dem. De är även ganska slitna i sin helhet. Men det tycker jag om. De har även några färgfläckar på sig, gråa färgfläckar och det tycker jag ger dem karaktär. Dessa läderskor har märket: Senators classic. Jag köpte dom för 150 kr i andra hand. Modellen är oxfords. jag gillar dem. När jag köpte dom noterade jag att de precis fått en ny sula. På den stod det; made in italy, något som bådar gott samt size 42. De andra skor som stor på nedre delen av denna skohylla i någon typ av billig svart eller mörkgrå metall liknande material, är sportigare. Säkert bättre för knät. märket är Reebok. De är coola, säkert mer inne men något för stora. Dess storlekar var större än vanligt så jag köpte för stora skor, men de använder jag inte längre. Det är skämmigt att ha för stora skor. Man ser ut som en clown, tycker jag. För jag kan bara utgå ifrån mig själv. Nu ska jag söka jobb.

Amen.

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temptressgothica · 6 years ago

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Words i did learn

amiss - fel

fervent - ivrig

ironclad - jättehård

chide - skälla

contemptuously - föraktfullt

depreciation - minskning i värde

decry - nedvärdera

pier-glass - stor spegel

imputation - anklagelse

parsimony - snålhet

subside - sänka sig

vestibule - förhall

agile - rörlig

magus - vis man

flippantly - oseriöst

cosmopolite - en person som känner sig hemma varsomhest

nary - inte en enda

abode - hem

hem - omringa sig själv

acrimony - bitterhet

fig - fikon

flit - flytta

perfunctory - oengagerat

pseudo - oäkta

hospitality - gästfrihet

haggard - trött

hectic - busy

gleams - glimmer

brocade - material

upholstery - stoppning

billow - puffa upp sig

zephyrs - milda vindar

strode - marscherade

broth - buljong

dunderhead - dumhuvud

den - lya (billigt hem under marken)

derision - hån

swate - sweet

traversing - att förflytta sig själv

pewter - tenn

pharmacopœia -en bok som beskriver droger och deras biverkningar

gnarled - knotiga

acute -fruktansvärd

valise - lite väska

phonograph - grammofon

divvy - del

clamorously - högljutt

redolent - godluktande

gillie - en pojke som följer med och är med när folk ska på jakt

pugilist - boxare

magistrate - en polois hand om mindre allvarliga fall och förhör

epicurean - van vid lyx

averted - undvek ett samtalsämne eller en kris

haste - brådska

commonest - vanligaste

hallard - den vanligaste typen av anka

refuge - skydd

spifflicated - hanterade hårt

lodgers - inneboende

lambrequins - stycken av tyg som hängs över riddarhjälmar eller dörrar

vivacious - feminin livlighet

aerial - något som existerar i luften, luft…

Forswear - När man bryter ett löfte

epicedian - ett löfte till ett dött kreatur

pendulum - en situation som ändras från en extrem till en annan

municipal - något som relaterar till en stad

metamorphosed - växte

muculent - kletig

predigital - något före digitaliseringen

saliency - uppenbara viktighet

succinct - kortfattat

terse - att svara väldigt kortfattat

dissent - meningsskiljaktighet

recompense - att kompensera efter att andra partiet har blivit skadat

interpolate - att lägga in något som inte hör till ämnet i konversationen

locusts - en stor gräshoppa

to decant - att hälla vätska från en behållare till en annan

sediment - någon som flutit ned från ytan till havsbottnen

improvident - tanklöst

scrape - en anläggningsmaskin som kombinerar dragen från andra anläggningsmaskiner

conscience - samvete

drag - en person som gör progressen svårare, börda personifierat.

jarg - fake

lar - den vanligaste typen av gibbonerarten.

antwacky - omodernt

fey - synsk

adown - neråt till en lägre belägen plats

adamant - orubblig

enamel - emalj

limey - en britt

paramour - otillåten älskare

cully - en lättlurad människa

sweven - dröm

mercenary - en person som bara gör jobbet för pengar

quean - hora

ye - the, you

nim - gripa tag i

quethe - dikta

ordalium - gudsdom

winly - glad och älskvärd

nought - noll

rawgabbit en person som pratar väldigt informellt om ett ämne som han är fullständigt aningslös i

Vinomadefied - när man dämpas ned av vin

Uhtceare - när man ligger uppe före solen ha kommit upp och grubblar

Expergefactor - något som väcker dig

ditty - en kort låt

thwart - ett planerat dåd att förhindra något

brabble - att argumentera om saker som inte är av något värd

elflock - hår som är vildt

groke - att stirra hårt och länge på någons mat för att förhoppningsvis få smaka

snollygoster - en person med intelligens men inga moraler

Quipp - att göra ett (ord)skämt

Snide - hycklande

Culf - fjädrar från en kudde

Nawpy - en ny penna

Quaaltagh - den första personen som ser dig efter att du har kommit ut ur huset

Clomph - att gå i för stora skor

Amptycock - en intelligent och rolig

anorak - en person som har ett intresse i ett mycket specifikt ämne

ordinal number - ett nummer som definierar hur saker är graderade (första andra tredje)

odyssey - en tur där din lycka går i kurvor

mortuary - en sal där man bevarar döda kroppar till begravningen

postmortem - något som händer efter döden

necropsy - en utredning av ett lik för att förstå varför kreaturet dog

murrain - en sjukdom som sprids från djur till djur

mumps - påssjuka

slighted - tillbakasatt

croup - krupp

brawl - slagsmål

jive - en livlig typ av dans från 50-talet

orc - ett fult kreatur som bara finns i sagor 3-3

arc - båge

ovate - ovala

tally - poäng eller uträkning

dovetail - att passa bra ihop eller planer för att saker ska passa ihop

mortise - ett hål i en bit som finns där för att sammanfogningen ska fungera

quadrate - överensstämma

auxiliary - offrar eller ger hjälp

intonation - ett begrepp som berättar om hur tonhöjd och betoning används i tal

inquisitive - frågvis

pry - intränga in på privat mark

crannied - med ett litet hack

chink - spricka

ransom - utlösnings-pengar

ransack - plundra

dew - vätska som kommer i små omgångar

dewar - en metall flaska som håller gaser i flytande form

ingenuous - barnslig

hew - hugga

ingress - inträde

gilt - förgyllning

jorum - en stor dryckesbehållare eller det som finns i den

wanton - hänsynslös

coltish -stimmig och okunnig

fickle - osammanhängande

macabre - kuslig

maul - trähammare

embrue - fläck

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lyxgarderoben · 3 months ago

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5 skor som trendar 2025

Skor som trendar 2025 – Stil och variation för alla smaker Modet 2025 bjuder på en mix av tidlösa klassiker och moderna inslag som skapar en bred palett av möjligheter och det gäller även vårens skomode. De skor som trendar i år är allt från loafers och sneakers till överknee-stövlar och festskor med glitter och metallic-detaljer finns något för varje smak och tillfälle. Årets trender handlar…

#Ballerinaskor #chunky sneakers #hållbara material #loafers #Metallic detaljer #Overknee-stövlar #Retroinspirerade stövletter #Sandaletter med remmar #Skomode 2025 #Skor för fest #Skor med rundad tå #Skor som trendar 2025 #Sneakers #Spetsiga pumps

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surveysonfleek · 6 years ago

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1363.

Having a day I can consider one of the “best days of my life” The style from the 60s and 70s Airports Crossword puzzles Film photography Quotes I can relate to Running THINGS I DISLIKE: The ’80s Rap music Dislike/hatred of/towards animals Feeling an unavoidable sadness within me Ignorance People who think that everything is a joke Unnecessary rudeness Celery Clothing with fringe When people do things just to “follow the pack” Waiting Confrontation Not being taken seriously by others Feeling incompetent Clichés When my feet are cold Not being able to respond to someone’s message right away for whatever reason Indulging myself in things Romantic comedies Being alone in total darkness MUSICIANS & BANDS I LOVE: The Beatles Paul McCartney Pink Floyd Simon & Garfunkel The Who Bob Dylan George Harrison Led Zeppelin Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young Paul Simon Billy Joel Elton John The Beach Boys The Doors David Bowie FILMS I LOVE: Empire of the Sun Atonement Up In The Air Beginners Inglourious Bastards I’m Not There The Descendants Schindler’s List The Graduate My Neighbor Totoro Kiki’s Delivery Service Help! The Darjeeling Limited The Royal Tenenbaums Midnight in Paris BOOKS I LOVE: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close The Book Thief The Catcher in the Rye Ordinary People The Foxman The Hole We’re In The Fault In Our Stars The Fates Will Find Their Way Pictures of Hollis Woods The Graveyard Book THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO DO IN THE FUTURE: Go on a long road trip lasting at least a month Meet at least one of my “idols” Live in New York City Be in a film, even if only in a minor role Travel around Europe Meet someone who shares my interests and way of thinking and have a close relationship with them Have a farm Decorate (and even build) my own home Be renowned for some reason or other Visit a particular museum or monument I’M FOND OF: Cats. Weed. New experiences. Getting to know people I have things in common with. Aliens. Horror films. Surveys. Mythology. Nature. The beach. The X-Files. Conspiracy Theories. Documentaries. History. Reading. Clothes. Taking Walks. Tattoos. Quadding/Four-wheeling. Classic Rock. Straight forward people. Metal. Poetry. The Sims. I’M NOT FOND OF: Extremists. Closed-minded people. Cheese. People who judge or worry about the decisions/opinions of others. Disrespect/Ignorance. The media. Cleaning. Romantic Comedies. Bugs. ‘Reality’ TV shows. Technology taking over *every* aspect of life. Overdramatic people. Today’s music. Cliches. People who hold certain sentiments simply because the mass majority feels that way. Facebook. Self-righteousness. Being stared at. Being condescended to. Being ignored. Beer. Snow/Ice. Feeling trapped in my own head. I enjoy eating/drinking: Steak. Shrimp. Pizza Pringles. Ben & Jerry’s. Rice. Potatoes. Bagels. Fruit. Skor bars. Aloe Vera drinks. Bolthouses. Water. Chicken. Salads. Omelets. Zucchini. Dark Russet chips. Hot chocolate. I like to watch: The X-Files. Law & Order: SVU. The Twilight Zone. American Horror Story. Married With Children. Twin Peaks. King Of The Hill. Nightmare Next Door. Wicked Attraction. Roseanne. That 70’s Show. Freaks & Geeks. Breaking Bad. Charmed. Family Guy. The Wonder Years. I would describe myself as: Laid back. Accepting. Indifferent. Realistic. Ill-tempered. Sarcastic. Blunt. Introverted. Witty. Good-natured. Understanding. Open-minded. Anxious. Headstrong. Honest. Lazy. Moody/Neurotic. Wise. Thick-skinned. Logical. Aloof. Impartial. Cynical. Humorous. Indecisive. Intuitive. Loyal. Modest. Brooding. I’ve experienced: A hangover. A really bad break-up. Smoking weed. Doing drugs other than weed. Being in a fist fight. Having my own house. Being on a plane. Smoking a cigarette. Sexual assault/abuse. A pregnancy. Being kicked out of my parent’s house. Hitchhiking. Shooting a gun. Physical abuse. Being hospitalized. An abusive relationship. Watching someone die. Seeing someone stabbed and/or shot. Being robbed. Competing in some sort of competition. Being in love. Gambling in a casino. A surgery of some sort.

#survey #surveys #quiz #bored #questions

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dragon-susceptible · 2 months ago

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TDP Rewatch S2 E1: A Secret and a Spark

Resuming rewatch on my new TDP sideblog! I'll likely reblog this to my original blog for visibility though, so people who have been keeping up with my posts can find it.

This episode doesn't have an intro voice right away, it just cuts to Amaya at the Breach. I love that she glares at the wall and it stops spitting steam. This woman can literally intimidate a volcano.

There's no way she or the horse would be okay in the heat with the sheer proximity to that much lava, this show runs on the same suspension of disbelief that has dwarves and orcs just building metal grates over lava flows and using that for light in World of Warcraft.

And this is the first time we see elves properly in person other than Moonshadow elves! Sunfire soldiers challenging Amaya at the Breach. The two that lead the assault have metal guards in front of their horns, while the third just has rings. They all seem to wear rings behind the guards, to be fair, that seems to be a very very common Sunfire ornamentation. It does interest me that one of the soldiers who comes at Amaya has hair as white as a Moonshadow elf, though she doesn't appear to be particularly old.

I appreciate that this is a kids' show the same way ATLA was a kids' show. They let things happen offscreen, leave it implied, deal with things in ways that kids can handle, but they also don't shy away from the fact that this is a war. Amaya is a general. Those three elves that attacked her are very much dead, she threw them into lava flow and we heard them sizzle. Janai's heatbeing mode isn't something all Sunfire elves can do, and it's unclear if that would even save her from outright lava anyway.

Knowing these two get married a few years in the future makes this a fascinating confrontation.

I also appreciate the lore that the magic on a Sunforge blade just holds the blade at its own melting point. Amaya's sword has a lower melting point than Janai's, so she cut through it. Her shield doesn't, so Janai just pushed her along the wall when she went to cut through it. Does this make scientific sense? Absolutely not. But I like that there's some kind of limit, the mechanic isn't just "oh these can cut through anything".

Viren just comes into meetings yelling these days, huh?

You know, I really appreciated Councilman Saleer at first. In his introduction he was the one telling Viren to calm down, that maybe vengeance was all the elves wanted and things would settle down, that they should wait to act. Dude what happened?

He just straight up makes up a report from Amaya, says she's reported a massing of elves at the Breach. There isn't one and she's made no such report. How did he expect that to go? Like, that's. It won't take much to fuck that up for you, Viren, because it's just an outright lie.

God I hate this guy. Off again with the ranting about humanity potentially facing extinction. Wtf is he talking about. The whole point of the Breach is that even if the dragons wanted to do that, it's too resource-intensive.

The first season took a week, and by the end of it, Rayla couldn't use her let hand hardly at all. Two days later she's recovered enough to have full usage again.

The WoW nerd in the artists and designers is SUPER clear in this episode, between the lava at the Breach and all of the old Moonshadow architecture at the Nexus. Some of this stuff is just practically lifted wholesale from Darnassus or Suramar, the Ancient Kal'dorei Empire.

Oho, this is interesting, check out the designs of the first souls summoned by Lujanne's Historia Viventum spell.

The two in the lead are just straight up Skor and Andromeda's silhouettes, and the elf behind Andromeda looks like Ram. None of them resemble Callisto, though.

One of the shades that looks like Andromeda is the one playing the illusory harp.

So yes, in the old days, Moonshadow elves could and did open the portal between life and death. Given their reverence for honor and completion of their quests, I would imagine this was done to provide closure for the dead and those who were left behind. Death would be nothing to fear if you knew, for a fact, where your soul went afterward, and that you and those you loved weren't completely lost when they died.

That would be incredibly traumatic to lose. I can't begin to imagine the generational suffering and cultural decimation that would have been, to truly have direct contact with your ancestors and to have that simply torn away. No wonder they leave a guardian at the Nexus.

I appreciate Lujanne casually saying she doesn't kill people, she just drives them insane. Her method of protection is just "no one will ever believe you when you go back down :3"

Viren's pause at Harrow's door doesn't strike me as grief, honestly. Dude, you could have done more to help than just fucking stand there, and let your children risk their lives for someone you wanted dead. Though it does intrigue me that it's been over a week now and none of the arrows have been removed from the king's door. The place hasn't been cleaned up.

Yeah, there's so much destruction of property in the room. That fight with Runaan and Skor lasted for a while after Pip/Harrow was shot.

It took more effort for Viren to step on Harrow's fallen shoulder plate than it would have to step around it. That was deliberate.

This fucker really goes and just sits down in Harrow's bed and fondles the painting of Harrow's family as if he has some kind of right to Harrow's person. This invasive motherfucker.

I love that Rayla talks to herself. And also Moonshadow elves' ears move! She just perked hers up to listen in this scene. I love that so much.

YEET the baby dragon! The poor ten year olds both panicking about it made me giggle so much.

I think it's neat that Lujanne's cape kind of evokes the wings of a moth.

The Crow Master looks almost just like one of my friends and it makes me laugh every time he comes up. This friend does not watch the show but whenever I do I message him with a screenshot like "I saw you again today." We'll see what he says.

Katolis using crows instead of pigeons to send messages is an interesting choice. Also the Crow Master has reminded me how neat it is that they included nail polish in this show. A lot of medieval or pseudo-medieval shows and movies refuse to use things like that for fear of seeming anachronistic, but the first historical evidence of nail color is from 5k+ years ago (there's debate about whether it should take its origins from the nail stains in China or the slightly earlier practice of using henna in India, but henna was used for more than just nail art. Henna stains can also be used as tattoos, and the TDP writers actually have mentioned the elf tattoos are a magical version of it that lasts much longer). People have been finding ways to stain our nails different colors for a ridiculously long time.

The poor Crow Master. Viren just outright threatens to kill him if he doesn't send the letters.

Customers. The same in every universe.

Lujanne's a terrible teacher. I do hope we get Arc 3 just because I want to see more of Callum's interactions with Ethari and Runaan, since both of them are mages who are decent teachers.

It hits that Harrow's smiling in his painting with Sarai and the boys, but he wasn't in his coronation painting with Viren.

#the dragon prince #tdp rewatch #tdp callum #tdp ezran #tdp rayla #tdp zym #tdp lujanne #tdp viren #tdp crow master #tdp amaya #tdp janai #Janai!!#I've missed her #tdp season 2

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 3 years ago

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66 of 2022

THINGS I LOVE: Philosophy Overgrown yards Thunderstorms in the summertime Classic rock Dream interpretation New York City Collages Listening to music on long car drives Feeling excited and looking forward to things Deep, meaningful conversations Cinematography Bonfires Aesthetically-pleasing interior decoration Having a day I can consider one of the “best days of my life” The style from the 60s and 70s Airports Crossword puzzles Film photography Quotes I can relate to Running

THINGS I DISLIKE: The ’80s Rap music Dislike/hatred of/towards animals Feeling an unavoidable sadness within me Ignorance People who think that everything is a joke Unnecessary rudeness Celery Clothing with fringe When people do things just to “follow the pack” Waiting Confrontation Not being taken seriously by others Feeling incompetent Clichés When my feet are cold Not being able to respond to someone’s message right away for whatever reason Indulging myself in things Romantic comedies Being alone in total darkness

MUSICIANS & BANDS I LOVE: // to be specific, I don’t love any of them; a few I just like The Beatles Paul McCartney Pink Floyd Simon & Garfunkel The Who Bob Dylan George Harrison Led Zeppelin Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young Paul Simon Billy Joel Elton John The Beach Boys The Doors David Bowie

FILMS I LOVE: Empire of the Sun Atonement Up In The Air Beginners Inglourious Bastards I’m Not There The Descendants Schindler’s List The Graduate My Neighbor Totoro Kiki’s Delivery Service Help! The Darjeeling Limited The Royal Tenenbaums Midnight in Paris

BOOKS I LOVE: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close The Book Thief The Catcher in the Rye Ordinary People The Foxman The Hole We’re In The Fault In Our Stars The Fates Will Find Their Way Pictures of Hollis Woods The Graveyard Book

THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO DO IN THE FUTURE: Go on a long road trip lasting at least a month Meet at least one of my “idols” Live in New York City Be in a film, even if only in a minor role Travel around Europe Meet someone who shares my interests and way of thinking and have a close relationship with them Have a farm Decorate (and even build) my own home Be renowned for some reason or other Visit a particular museum or monument

I’M FOND OF: Cats. Weed. // which is strange because I’ve never smoked weed myself, so. I just like the smell of it. New experiences. Getting to know people I have things in common with. Aliens. Horror films. Surveys. Mythology. Nature. The beach. The X-Files. Conspiracy Theories. // not like I believe in any of them, though Documentaries. History. Reading. Clothes. Taking Walks. Tattoos. Quadding/Four-wheeling. Classic Rock. Straight forward people. Metal. Poetry. The Sims.

I’M NOT FOND OF: Extremists. Closed-minded people. Cheese. People who judge or worry about the decisions/opinions of others. Disrespect/Ignorance. The media. Cleaning. Romantic Comedies. Bugs. ‘Reality’ TV shows. Technology taking over *every* aspect of life. Overdramatic people. Today’s music. Cliches. People who hold certain sentiments simply because the mass majority feels that way. Facebook. Self-righteousness. Being stared at. Being condescended to. Being ignored. Beer. Snow/Ice. Feeling trapped in my own head.

I enjoy eating/drinking: Steak. Shrimp. Pizza Pringles. Ben & Jerry’s. Rice. Potatoes. Bagels. Fruit. Skor bars. Aloe Vera drinks. Bolthouses. Water. Chicken. Salads. Omelets. Zucchini. Dark Russet chips. Hot chocolate.

I like to watch: The X-Files. Law & Order: SVU. The Twilight Zone. American Horror Story. Married With Children. Twin Peaks. King Of The Hill. Nightmare Next Door. Wicked Attraction. Roseanne. That 70’s Show. Freaks & Geeks. Breaking Bad. Charmed. Family Guy. The Wonder Years.

I would describe myself as: Laid back. Accepting. Indifferent. Realistic. Ill-tempered. Sarcastic. Blunt. Introverted. Witty. Good-natured. Understanding. Open-minded. Anxious. Headstrong. Honest. Lazy. Moody/Neurotic. Wise. Thick-skinned. Logical. Aloof. Impartial. Cynical. Humorous. Indecisive. Intuitive. Loyal. Modest. Brooding.

I’ve experienced: A hangover. A really bad break-up. Smoking weed. Doing drugs other than weed. Being in a fist fight. Having my own house. Being on a plane. Smoking a cigarette. Sexual assault/abuse. A pregnancy. Being kicked out of my parent’s house. Hitchhiking. Shooting a gun. Physical abuse. Being hospitalized. An abusive relationship. Watching someone die. Seeing someone stabbed and/or shot. Being robbed. Competing in some sort of competition. Being in love. Gambling in a casino. A surgery of some sort.

#survey #about me survey #bolding survey

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