#my brother said he would help me build the whole bird village on my main world :]]]

[rickyyysaurus]

Falls over and dies.

[phoenixyfriend]

"this isn't quite what I expected" Hinata and [whomever you think would be funniest.]

Arranged Marriage Starters

Hmmmmm okay fuck it we’re doing time-travel.

Warning for... very odd attitudes about ‘breeding’ from clan POV. Like... you know what I mean. (The weird fanon eugenics vibes of the Hyuuga do not gel with me, so I’m just going to treat them like purebred cats.)

Also this did NOT end up ‘whatever is funniest,’ holy smokes.

She is seventeen, unsealed, and... perfect.

She is not a perfect warrior, no. She is not even a perfect lady, or a perfect spy. No, the woman from the future is the perfection of a Main Line child unmarred by the inbreeding they are so careful to avoid but so liable to run into.

The examination of her eyes leaves the medic breathless. Her skin is clearer than they think possible--apparently the formation of a village will lead to better nutrition, better hygiene, better hospitals. Her hair is like silk.

She is as perfect as a doll.

“I am not a broodmare,” she says, when the whispers first start. “And I refuse to allow the barbarism of the Caged Bird Seal to continue.”

“Hold your tongue, girl!”

She lifts her head. She watches.

She is far too calm.

“I promised my cousin, as he died on the battlefield, that I would abolish the seal. I keep my promises, Honorable Elder. It is my nindo.”

A porcelain doll with a backbone of steel.

-----

She was born the heir, and for all that she is an intruder to this era, Hinata is still an heir. The current clan head is young, and has no children. With Hinata unsealed and powerful, young and lithe and useful, she is easily slotted into the role of heir. Her blood befits it, supposedly.

Oh they titter, for sure. Hinata is capable of wearing the clothing of the time, but she prefers things in a cut closer to what she arrived in. She spent years building up her confidence to the point where she could bare her arms. She had months with Ino coaching her into taking pride in her muscles, teaching her to be unashamed of her chest. Hinata refuses to let them take that away from her.

They sneer, some of them, but Hinata is not the child she once was. She fought in the Fourth War. She attacked Pein alone. She has fought a Rinnegan and survived, if only because of the man she loved, and she is no longer the kind of girl that is cowed by an elderly fool with a cutting remark.

But she is still an heir, and not a clan head in her own right. There is no affection to hold back Hyuuga Hideki, not as there was with Hiashi or as there would have been with Hanabi. Hideki does not know her, for all that her genealogy lists him as her great-grandfather, and he thinks little of setting her up for a marriage.

“Am I to know the name of my groom?” Hinata asks.

(She does not worry for leaving the clan. They would not waste a Byakugan as clear as hers. They will bring in new, strong blood, for the so-called purity of Hinata’s line is a scant generation from breaking to something ugly, but they will keep her and her groom within the clan. Her children, her eyes, belong to the clan. They dare not let her leave, and to sell her off is anathema.)

“No,” Hideki tells her. “We haven’t decided.”

“I see.”

-----

There’s a pang in her heart, when she looks at the wedding kimono. She’d hoped for love, before. She’d hoped for Naruto’s hand in hers, or if he did not want her, to find and grow a relationship with another. She’d have been able to have her pick of the pack, so to speak.

Perfect, unmarred heiress.

(What a disgusting role, truly.)

Several branch members help her into the layers and layers of formal dress. They comb her hair into too-complex twists and paint her face in ways that feel old and unpleasant.

(Tradition is as tradition does, but to be nearly a century in the past is stifling.)

Hinata is not a broodmare, and she has been clear on such a point, but she is still a valuable piece on the board that the clan has received without expectation. They use her as they use anyone. She is here to battle on the field, if necessary, but she is far more vital in securing an alliance. Principled, they call her. Headstrong for ideals that barely exist yet, ideals that won’t be commonplace for decades yet.

“Silk hiding steel,” one elderly branch woman says, approval in her eyes and on her tongue. “I hope they keep you.”

Hinata never wanted to be clan head, but there is no Hanabi here to take up Neji’s cause and drive it to completion. There are no others willing to dedicate themselves to abolishing this wretched seal, and so it falls to Hinata. She will not fail.

Her groom makes such a thing more than feasible.

-----

The wedding is traditional, rigid, and ultimately successful. Hinata is ‘hitched,’ as Kiba might have said, and she keeps her face pleasantly disinterested for the whole of it. The party afterwards is livelier, but only because of the clan she has tied herself to.

They retire soon enough. The marriage is not complete, after all.

“I don’t suppose the Hyuuga are one of the clans willing to take a person’s word for consummation,” her new husband says.

“There are ways of checking after the fact,” she says. She passes a hand over the wall, and the designs painted into the wood glow faintly. “But for the act itself, we have privacy.”

She is eighteen, almost nineteen. She is newly wedded to a man who is a stranger in all but name, and she plans to change history every bit as much as he does.

He still grimaces. “You are... a bit young.”

“You flatter me,” she says. “But I am of an age to be wed, and so of an age to engage in... more carnal matters.”

This does not soothe him. “If you are to beget a child this young... it’s old enough that you’d avoid the worst of the consequences, but the risk is still there. Your body is still changing, as likely as not.”

She cannot help it. She laughs. “I’ve no need to secure a pregnancy as of yet, Honored Husband. While the contract may have stated we consummate immediately, my own clan’s elders have chosen to look the other way if we take a few years to solidify the alliance with a child.”

He’s less than five years older than her, and walks as though he expects and even asks to carry the weight of the world on his own two shoulders. The relief that breaks across his face is almost childlike in its openness.

“I was not informed,” he says. “I am glad to hear it.”

Hinata ducks her head and smiles. “Your concern for me is appreciated. I have some small medical training of my own, and can prevent a pregnancy with relatively little ease until the village your brother spoke of is formed. They would not want to waste a kunoichi with battlefield experience, after all.”

He nods. He hesitates. He asks, nonetheless, “Are you truly so firm in your belief of such? They said you supported the concept of the village, but to see you speak of it so confidently is a surprise.”

Hinata watches him for a moment, and then stands and moves to the armoire. She has very few things left from the future she cannot return to, but there are two she has kept for this situation.

She returns to her husband with her forehead protector in one hand, a ragged bingo book in the other, and a scroll tucked into her obi.

He looks them over. He turns the pages with a crease in his brow, feels at the woven mesh and linen the metal is riveted to. He looks up and asks, “How many decades?”

“Hideki-sama would have been my grandfather. However, as things stand, that is no longer assured,” she says. “You were some fifty years dead when I was sent back in time.”

“I see,” he says, and looks back down. “There are not many Senju or Uchiha in this booklet. Did they not defect at high rates, or...”

“Both clans were down to a single surviving member by the time I was seventeen,” Hinata tells him. “The Uzumaki down to two.”

“So the village system--”

“Was not at fault,” Hinata says. He looks up sharply, and she smiles. “I can tell you how it all happened, and what can be done to prevent it, but it will not be easy.”

“Such things never are,” he says. He looks back down at the bingo book, frowning. “You choose to help save my clan, after I have married into yours. I expect you hope for some aid in return?”

“Oh, to prevent the destruction the Senju and Uchiha is to prevent the end of the world,” she says. “I would do this even if it wasn’t, but as it stands, there is indeed something I will ask you to help with.”

“Something equal to preventing the end of the world?” he asks, and she thinks he may be trying to add a dash of humor to the heavy conversation. She appreciates the attempt, for all that it fails.

“It is to me,” she says instead, and pulls the scroll from her obi. “You are a fuuinjutsu master, are you not?”

“My sister-in-law is better,” he says. “But yes, I’m nearing such a level.”

Hinata nods. “The history books said as much.”

He eyes her for a moment, brows narrowed, and then unfurls the scroll.

She waits.

It doesn’t take long for him to inhale sharply. “This is barbaric.”

“Yes, I agree,” she says, calm and pleasant. “I’m not supposed to be showing you this. I hope you understand.”

He looks at her. “You want me to change it?”

“Removal first,” she says. “We need a substitute ready when we do so, to prevent at least one angle of argument. A seal that still destroys the eyes at death, but without the... more unpleasant aspects.”

“You want me to help you stage a coup in your own clan.”

“Not a coup. If Hideki is willing to allow for the changes to the seal, then I am uninterested in replacing him. I have no great dreams of leadership, Honored Husband. I simply wish to free my family of their bonds.”

“And to help me save my clan.”

“By saving the world, yes.” She smiles at him. “I’ll save your clan if you save mine?”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I can’t... well. This isn’t quite what I expected.”

“Of that, I’m sure.”

"I agree to your terms,” he says. “Also... while I am like to officially outrank you on the battlefield and in the village that will be, I was under the impression that, within the confines of the Hyuuga compound, you outrank me, and outside of it, we are equals.”

“That is correct.”

“In that regard, please stop addressing me as ‘Honored Husband,’” he says. “It is surprisingly uncomfortable to hear.”

Hinata can’t help but laugh at him again. “Of course. Shall I call you Tobirama-kun instead, then?”

“Am I to address you as ‘Hinata-chan?’” He asks, a tad too dry. “Or simply dear?”

“Darling.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Beloved.”

“I’m not one for pet names.”

“What a shame. I am.”

Yes. She rather thinks this will turn out splendidly. She may not have the true love of her dreams, but this... this will work.

She’ll make sure of it.

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Chapter 2

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A WHILE LATER

BJORNHEIMR, THE TEMPLE

Walking underneath the white sun, Eivor worked his way around the village as he scanned the surrounding buildings, keeping an eye out for Randvi’s bright head of hair. Roughly half an hour had passed ever since Thora first approached him on the hill asking for his assistance, but he had yet to catch a glimpse of his younger sister anywhere.

According to some of the people Eivor had spoken to, Randvi was last seen heading towards the town’s temple. She was accompanying the local seeress on an “urgent matter,” and apparently hadn’t returned since. Eivor didn’t have a clue as to what Ingrida could’ve needed help with on a day like this, but nonetheless, it was the only lead he had. And so, he took it.

Pushing himself up the steep incline that led to the temple’s archway, Eivor slowly ascended a dirt path decorated with ceremonial bones and charms, causing a soft chime to rattle in his ears as they swayed gently in the wind.

His boots dug deeply into the many layers of snow blanketing over the path, and with every step he took on his short journey, a sharp crunch emitted from his feet, alerting nearby hares and birds.

Up ahead, Eivor saw a majestic line of wooden statues standing proudly in front of the temple’s lake, towering over its still waters like a row of guardians. Piles of snow had gathered on their heads and shoulders as a result of the frostbitten weather, and in the bowls that lay at their feet, Eivor saw a handful of fresh offerings left by some of the locals.

The main thing that caught his attention however, was a toppled statue of Freya lying motionlessly in the snow. The base of its structure had broken somehow, and now, it was garnering the care of their seeress, as well as Randvi herself.

Eivor stopped briefly in his tracks, feeling a sense of relief. 

“There you are.” He whispered under his breath.

Approaching them from behind, Eivor hurriedly made his way to Randvi as the two women covertly bickered with each other, speaking in a hushed manner. At first, he simply assumed they were trying to figure out how to get the statue back on its feet, but once he got closer, their conversation suggested otherwise.

“....You’re not listening to me,” Ingrida insisted. “It’s a sign! We must not ignore it.”

Randvi crossed her arms in disagreement, attempting temper the seeress’ fear. “I understand that, Ingrida, but there isn’t much we can do about it now. What’s done is done.”

“You must cancel the wedding,” the older woman reiterated. “The gods have made it clear that this joining will ensue nothing but chaos!”

“A king is coming to our shores at our invitation, Ingrida. To turn Styrbjorn away would be a grave insult to him and his clan. We have no choice but to go through with this.”

Still, the seeress was unconvinced. “An insult holds little weight in the face of death. The arrival of the Raven Clan will bring naught but misery and conflict. The gods have shown this to me.”

Eivor stepped in the middle of their altercation, trying to get a grasp of what was going on.

“Randvi,” he called out, earning a glance from the woman. “What’s going on? Why haven’t you joined father at the docks yet?”

She sighed in frustration. “I apologize for the delay, Eivor, but Ingrida is concerned about the nature of this wedding, and nothing I say seems to ease her nerves.”

Eivor turned to the seeress, curious to hear her side. “What troubles you, Ingrida? You look perturbed.”

The elderly woman scoffed. “Perturbed is an understatement, young man. Last night, the gods visited me in my dreams, and showed me visions of things to come. They were not good.”

“What did you see?”

Ingrida took a moment to recall her memories. “...There was a man. He appeared human in my dream, yet carried a monstrous nature to him. His eyes burned bright with the heat of Muspelheim itself, and his hair was so red that, at first, I mistook it for fire. There was a strange mark etched into the flesh on his neck, and one of his arms had been severed clean off. Lurking behind him, I saw a white wolf whose snout was stained by the redness of his blood.”

It didn’t take long for Eivor to make the connection. “You dreamt of Tyr?”

The seeress seemed unsure. “Perhaps... but I did not get the impression that this man was a god. He seemed too earthly. Too... familiar. That’s not the part that frightens me, though. What worries me is, when I awoke, the statue of Freya had fallen to the ground, despite the fact that it was still standing mere moments ago.”

Eivor shrugged. “I fail to see what’s so alarming about that.”

Ingrida gestured to the statue. “Use your head, Eivor! Freya is the goddess of love. Her collapse -- paired with my vision -- signifies what this marriage will bring. War.”

“How could this marriage bring war? The whole purpose of this joining is to forge an alliance between the Bear and Raven Clans.”

“I’m aware. But our plans do not always match what the gods have in mind.”

Randvi tried to defuse the situation. “Have faith in our jarl, Ingrida. I know these are frightening times, but our father is simply trying to eradicate Kjotve’s people from our waters for good. We would have killed him ourselves long ago, but we alone do not have the strength necessary to do that. We need Styrbjorn and his people.”

“What we need is to avoid more bloodshed. We have had enough.”

The seeress sighed in annoyance, deciding to put an end to this argument. It was clear that her message wasn’t getting through to the other members of the clan, and despite what she may have believed, she couldn’t deny that Randvi had a point. 

Ingrida may have been skeptical about the outcome of this wedding, but Styrbjorn was already on his way. His entire clan was accompanying him to Bjornheimr’s shores, and there wasn’t much she could do about that now.

“...Alright, you two.” Ingrida finally said. “I can see that this is going nowhere. If your father believes this is the best way forward... then I suppose it is not my place to defy him.”

The young woman beamed at her. “Do not fear, seeress. Everything will be alright.”

“I certainly hope so. Our people have suffered enough at the hands of Kjotve and his men. I pray that this joining will put an end to that.”

Randvi nodded in agreement. “As do I.”

Eivor smirked humorously at his sister. “Well, it’s never going to happen if you don’t make haste to the docks.”

The woman chuckled. “Alright, alright. I’ll be on my way soon. Just...” Randvi took a breath, “...give me a moment.”

Her brother grinned. “Nervous, are we?”

Randvi gave him a friendly shove. “Yes, and you are not helping.”

Eivor smiled at her. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Father wouldn’t promise you to this man if he thought he couldn’t be trusted. You know him.”

The woman remained somewhat anxious. “I know he would never do anything to put me in harm’s way. I’m just... nervous about what the future holds. What if my husband and I don’t get along? What if we’re miserable together? What if this only brews more animosity between our clans?”

“All the better,” Eivor replied. “You’ll fit right in with the rest of Norway’s royalty.”

Randvi let out a laugh at that. “You certainly know how to make light of any situation, don’t you?”

Eivor leaned against a tree, crossing his arms in a jesting way. “It’s my blessing and my curse.”

Ingrida rested her hands on her hips. “More often a curse, I would say.”

Randvi rolled her eyes in a playful manner, finally deciding to return to her duties.

“Alright,” she said with a troubled sigh. “I’ll go find father at the docks now. He’s probably wondering where I am. I’ll see you and Thora at the feast this evening. Try to keep things orderly, will you?”

Eivor nodded reassuringly. “Of course.”

“Good. Father’s counting on us to make a good impression. I trust you won’t scare anyone off before the feast starts?”

“Now that, I can’t promise.”

Randvi snickered in amusement and threw a casual grin at Eivor before taking her leave from the temple, following the trail of dented snow that her brother left behind. The sun was nearing the center of the sky at this point in the day, and if Eivor squinted hardly enough, he could’ve sworn he saw the miniature silhouettes of distant ship sails billowing on the horizon. 

The Raven Clan had arrived.

“Ingrida?” Eivor said, continuing his talk with the seeress. “Can I ask you something?”

The old woman took a seat on a nearby bench, placing herself in front of the statues.

“Of course, young cub. What’s on your mind?”

Eivor strolled towards Ingrida’s position, keeping his eyes nailed on Freya’s fallen figure as he put his thoughts into words.

“Do you truly think this wedding will bring more chaos to our clan?”

The seeress shook her head in uncertainty. “I cannot speak in absolutes, for I do not know what the gods are thinking. All I can tell you is that this marriage sparks a sense of worry in me... and it stems from the man in my dreams.”

Eivor sat beside Ingrida. “Is there anything I can do to tame your fear?”

A warm smile radiated on the woman’s face. “You are kind, but I suspect that this situation is now in the hands of the Nornir. If they wish to lead us into battle, then it would be pointless to cower behind our shields.”

The young man recalled a conversation he had with the seeress many years ago, bringing up one of her own quotes.

“Ingrida, do you remember what you said to me? After my parents were killed, and Arngeir took me in?”

She shook her head, staying silent in response.

“We are all bound by the threads of fate,” Eivor reminded her. “Any attempt to deviate from the path--”

“--will simply be met with what was always destined to be.” Ingrida finished. “Yes, I remember now. And it seems that I would do well to follow my own wisdom.”

The woman chuckled softly, gazing at Eivor with a motherly twinkle in her aged eyes. “You have grown into a fine young man, Eivor. It seems that your mind is as sharp as your axe. Varin would be proud of you. I know Arngeir certainly is.”

“...Thank you, seeress.”

Ingrida rose from her seat, ready to head back inside. “Well, I should return to my duties. We have a busy day ahead of us, and this statue isn’t going to stand up on its own. I’ll see if I can find my son. Perhaps he could help me.”

Eivor mirrored her actions and removed himself from the bench, offering assistance. “I can help you now, if you’d like.”

The woman raised a hand of refusal. “No, no. It’s alright. I’ve occupied enough of your time. You just focus on tending to your own family, and seeing that the Raven Clan receives the welcome they deserve. In the meantime, I will stay here, and do what I can to prepare the temple before King Styrbjorn arrives. It’s possible he will want to make an offering before the wedding.”

“Very well,” Eivor said, making his way through the temple’s arch. “I will speak with you later, then.”

“Farewell, Eivor.” Ingrida replied. “May you carry Odin’s favor.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE DOCKS

Rushing down to the harbor, Randvi weaved her way through Bjornheimr’s crowds and hurried to join her father as the Raven Clan steadily approached the docks, drawing everyone’s attention.

By now, there was a canopy of clouds hovering in the sky, slowly inching its way across the ocean’s vast length as it passed through an array of sunbeams.

Meanwhile, underneath them, an impressive collection of longships glided over the sea’s rolling waves, causing spurts of white mist to spray in their wake as they crashed into the tides.

It was an armada fit for a king, Randvi thought. Even though she had never made contact with the Raven Clan before, it was clear that they carried a strong sense of pride and honor with them, similar to the one that her own clan held.

It made her wonder if, perhaps, it wouldn’t be such a difficult task to bring their people together, after all. For many days now, Randvi had spend most of her nights twisting and turning in bed with the worry of causing more trouble like Ingrida suggested, but after seeing the Raven Clan face-to-face, it managed to put some of her fears to rest.

Her heart still hammered with the nervousness of meeting her future spouse, but the anxiety in her chest was no longer as debilitating as before. 

Freya willing, it would stay that way.

Finally reaching the harbor, Randvi came to a halt when she spotted Arngeir waiting by the edge of the pier, standing quietly as his fur cloak danced wildly in the breeze.

Arngeir Hallbjornson was a tall man clad in fierce armor that broadened his already stocky build, causing him to stand out from the clan like a walking giant. Most of his visage was hidden behind a grizzled beard and mane that had been twisted into multiple braids, and the parts of his face that remained uncovered were creased with years of experience.

Despite the boldness that his presence carried however, Arngeir did not wield an intimidating temperament as others might have expected. Instead, his pragmatic nature only enhanced the fatherly spirit in him, and a firm sense of nobility stood proudly in his eyes. 

A certain kindness radiated from his stern expression, but due to the plethora of burdens that came with being a jarl, there was also a rougher edge to him like thorns on a rose. 

He was no stranger to the idea of mercy, but he wasn’t able to engage with it as often as he wished.

“Father!” Randvi exclaimed, taking her position beside the man.

Arngeir turned around at the sound of her voice, slouching his shoulders in relief.

“Randvi. There you are. I thought you weren’t going to show up.”

The woman replied with a humorous response. “I wasn’t. But then Eivor found me.”

A chuckle escaped her father’s lips. “I understand if you’re hesitant to go through with this wedding, but trust me. Everything will be fine. Sigurd is a good man. I believe he will be a worthy husband.”

“He’s also a prince,” Randvi added, “which means someday I’ll be...”

“...his queen. A daunting task, indeed, but I have faith that you will live up to the challenge.” Arngeir rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Do not fear, Randvi. You are ready for this.”

“I hope so. I’m just worried about the future of our marriage. What if Sigurd and I don’t go well together? What if this turns out to be a disaster?”

Arngeir gave her a reassuring smile. “These thoughts you’re experiencing are quite normal for someone in your situation. Fear is a natural part of change, and marriage can be a life-altering event. But as I said before -- I would not have chosen Sigurd if I did not think he was suitable to be your husband. Even though this wedding is for the good of our clan, I also want to ensure that you are happy as well.”

Randvi took a deep breath, attempting to conceal how much she was shaking. 

“I suppose I won’t know for sure until I meet him myself.”

“Exactly.” Arngeir paused for a moment, suddenly realizing that King Styrbjorn had reached the dock. “But enough of that. The Raven Clan is here. Keep your head high, and do your best to stay calm. The gods are watching over us.”

Turning away from his daughter, the jarl swiftly approached the opposite end of the pier with open arms as Styrbjorn stepped off the longship, eager to return to the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet.

He appeared to be a man of great stature and etiquette just based on the elegancy of his demeanor, but it was no secret to Randvi that he had seen his fair share of battles throughout the years. 

There were many faint scars hiding beneath the surface of his weathered skin, and even though Styrbjorn spent most of his time occupying a throne these days, his hands remained hardened with the callouses of a soldier, implying that the hilt of an axe once sat in his palm.

Though, as age would decree, the muscles that once sharpened his physique had softened over time, and the shaved hair sitting atop his head had been washed with silver. The lids of his eyes hung slightly low with with a tinge of fatigue, and sitting between his brows, Randvi saw the wrinkles of a serious man embedded into his skin.

“King Styrbjorn!” Arngeir called out in a convivial tone. “Welcome to Bjornheimr!”

The older man returned his smile, beaming brightly as he adjusted to the land beneath his boots.

“Arngeir Jarl!” Styrbjorn said boisterously. “Now there’s a face that I haven’t seen nearly enough of.” He pulled Arngeir into a tight embrace, greeting the man with a warm hug. “You look well, my friend. It is a blessing to see you safe in times like these.”

The jarl welcomed the gesture, immediately picking up on the smell of sea salt. “And you, my lord. I trust you had a safe journey from Fornburg?”

Styrbjorn nodded, separating the hug. “We did. Njord graced us with calm waters and strong winds today. We were also lucky enough to avoid Kjotve’s men during the voyage. I’m glad to say our journey was rather uneventful. Though, I fear it may have been too uneventful for my son’s liking.”

Arngeir chuckled. “A warrior’s heart beats inside his chest, just like yours.”

“Indeed,” the king joked, “and it will be the death of me someday.”

Styrbjorn diverted his gaze to the woman at Arngeir’s side, instantly realizing who she was.

“Ah, and you must be Randvi.”

The young viking bowed her head politely, admittedly unsure of how to address Styrbjorn.

“...Yes,” she answered. “I-It’s an honor to meet you, my lord.”

Styrbjorn gently took Randvi’s hand into his grasp, shaking it in an affable manner. “The honor is mine, my lady. Your father has offered nothing but praise in response to the questions I’ve asked about you. I’m certain you’ll make a fine addition to our family.”

“Thank you,” she said, slightly more relaxed. “You’re too kind.”

An extra pair of footsteps thudded on the pier’s wooden surface, causing Styrbjorn to throw a quick glance over his shoulder.

“Ah, but enough about me. Allow me to introduce you to your betrothed.” He placed a hand on his son’s back, presenting him to Randvi.

“My lady Randvi, I’d like you to meet my son. Sigurd.”

Staring silently at the person in front of her, Randvi was met with a young man clothed in noble attire and light armor, similar to the image she had in mind. His face was embellished with a handful of neatly-drawn tattoos, and in the middle of his forehead stood an unfamiliar rune resembling the shape a tree.

The strange part about Sigurd’s appearance though, was that he happened to match the exact description Ingrida described to Randvi earlier. He wasn’t missing an arm like the man in the seeress’ dream, but everything else seemed to be identical.

A certain type of ferocity enhanced the raw ardor in his icy gaze, and with the sun’s light getting trapped between the strands of his red hair, it almost looked as if his head was surrounded by a ring of fire.

He was certainly a sight to behold, even without the context of Ingrida’s vision. He cradled a peculiar flame inside the breast of his soul, and even though he appeared as human as anyone else in Bjornheimr, Randvi couldn’t help but sense something more otherworldly in his presence.

“H-Hello.” Randvi said, sounding much more nervous than she intended. “I’m pleased to finally meet you.”

Surprisingly, Sigurd shared her timidness. “As am I. I’ve heard much about you, my lady.”

Styrbjorn laughed softly at his son’s quiet response. “Have no fear, Randvi. That shyness will wear off soon enough.”

Arngeir agreed with the sentiment. “The same could be said for my daughter.”

The king began making his way off the pier, growing weary of the ocean’s chilled winds. “Well, I think I’ll go help my clan settle in now. We’re planning to pitch camp in the woods outside of Bjornheimr, but I hope it won’t be a bother if some of my men need to share a roof with your people?”

Arngeir shook his head. “Not at all, my lord. Bjornheimr is open to you. We have plenty of open space in the village should your men require more shelter. You’re free to use it.”

“Thank you, my friend. Your hospitality is appreciated. In the meantime,” Styrbjorn looked at his son, “Sigurd, why don’t you stay here with Randvi? Take some time to get to know her, and the locals as well. In two weeks from now, these people will be our family.”

“Of course, father.”

Arngeir’s face lit up with a look of remembrance. “That reminds me -- my people are preparing a feast to welcome your clan. It should be ready before this evening. Your men are welcome to join us at the longhouse.”

Styrbjorn seemed pleased. “A perfect opportunity to bring our people together. I’ll be there.”

“As will I.” Sigurd promised. 

“Wonderful,” Arngeir said. “I’ll let my oldest know. Her name is Thora. She and a few others will make sure the tables are laden with food. You should introduce yourself to her when you find the opportunity, though I fear she’s not quite as sociable as Randvi. I also have a son who’d like to meet you as well. His name is Eivor.”

Styrbjorn made a mental note of that. “I shall keep that in mind. Until then, let us dig our boots into the soil here, and thank the gods for our safe arrival.”

The jarl joined his king as the two of them ventured deeper into Bjornheimr, ready to tackle the rest of the day. “And may they bless us in the days to come.”

Strolling off into the distance, Arngeir and Styrbjorn returned to their lengthy list of duties as life carried on in the village around them, causing the small crowd that had gathered at the harbor to disperse.

Meanwhile, Sigurd and Randvi stayed behind at the docks, rendered silent by an awkward lack of conversation. Neither of them really knew what to do with themselves from here on out, but in spite of that, the young woman had to admit that she was feeling far more relieved than before.

“So,” Randvi started, “I’m curious. Am I what you expected?”

Sigurd turned his head towards the young woman as he examined her, revealing a strange mark on the side of his neck. 

“Yes, actually. Though, you are a bit taller than I pictured.” An inquisitive expression spread across his face. “...What about me? Did you think I would look like this?”

“No,” Randvi answered honestly. “Not at all. D-Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m not disappointed.”

Sigurd chuckled lightly. “Glad to hear it. I must admit -- I was somewhat nervous before coming here. I had no idea what I would be walking into or what kind of person you would be. So far though, I’m pleasantly surprised.”

The woman found some comfort in his words. “I’m relieved. These past few days have been filled to the brim with stress. It’s good to finally set things in motion.”

“Agreed.”

Randvi gestured to the other areas of the village, beckoning Sigurd to follow her. “Would you... like me to show you around before the feast starts? Bjornheimr has many places to see. I could also introduce you to my siblings, if you like.”

The man smiled cordially. “Of course.”

“Great. Thora should be at the longhouse, but... I’m not sure where Eivor is right now. He was at the temple the last time I saw him, but if we can’t find him, I’m certain he’ll show up at the feast. He’d never miss the opportunity to get a fresh cup of mead.”

Sigurd smirked in amusement. “A man after my own heart.”

Randvi returned the jest. “You might change your mind once you meet him, but I digress. Shall we?”

“Lead on.”

Finally removing himself from the ocean’s vicinity after a long day of traveling, Sigurd stuck to Randvi’s side as she led him away from the bustling harbor, enthusiastic to spend more time with her betrothed.

The two of them had only known each other for a few moments, and yet, Randvi got the impression that Sigurd was far gentler than his exterior suggested him to be. His appearance resembled that of a war-weathered vikingr who knew only stoicism, but his personality seemed to stem from a heart of honor and compassion.

The one thing about him that concerned Randvi so far was how accurate Ingrida’s vision had proven to be. Nothing about Sigurd gave off the impression that he harbored any malicious intent, but that didn’t stop the young woman from wondering if the seeress’ instincts were correct. 

The timing of Freya’s collapse struck Randvi as somewhat odd now that she thought about it, and the fact that Ingrida dreamt about the god of war beforehand did nothing to ease her nerves. 

She had to admit that she was beginning to understand the old woman’s fears surrounding this wedding, but alas, it was too late to back out of it now.

And so, with a quick change of the subject, Randvi brushed off her worries for the time being and simply focused on getting to know her betrothed. She was just as clueless as Ingrida when it came to the events of the near-future, but she figured it would be pointless fretting about it now.

The fires of this alliance were already being stoked, after all, and there was little she could do to snuff it out. She may as well have just drifted off with the waves, and allowed the tides of fate to do their job.

[slade-neko]

Monster Hunter Rise ~ My Thoughts

Oh, man, Monster Hunter Rise, where to begin?! I guess I’ll start with the game itself in a nutshell is a BLAST! It’s not without a few issues I have with it personally, but I’ve been having a lot of fun playing it nonetheless. I want to take the time to mention I am a second generation hunter myself. Started playing Monster Hunter in 2008 with Freedom 2 on PSP at the tender age of 13. So its safe to say I’ve got a lot to say about this game! If you want to read the full thing then here it is. 

This review is MOSTLY spoiler-free! There isn’t a lot you can spoil in this game... I mention some endgame stuff and there is a screenshot that contains the final boss’s armor but not focused on it. Just a friendly warning if you are a die-hard spoiler avoider. 

The Weapon Types

I’ll start with the fact that the weapon types in MH Rise are all really fun to play and have very well polished movesets. I haven’t extensively played with all the weapon types, but I’d like to say a few things about the ones I have been using. Long Sword feels the best it has ever been in the entire series in my opinion, ironically this game starts you off with a Long Sword equipped too. 

I went ham with Long Sword throughout the main story, but now have swapped over to maining Light Bowgun. I was a big Heavy Bowgun main in MH World, but shield spreadshot builds don't feel the same for me as they did in World, but the Light Bowgun in this game shreds. Narga Piercing LBG for distance shooting and then Magnamalo Spread LBG for getting up close and personal. Evade Extender 3 makes zipping around the battlefield a breeze and next to impossible to get hit making it a very fun and rewarding playstyle. 

My brother on the other hand has been hitting hard with Long Sword and the new Hunting Horn. He misses the original note playing at times, but the damage on HH is insane and healing constantly with the Rampage Horn is a big plus too for a game with no health regen factors. He’s been building sets for nearly every weapon type, but LS and HH are his two mains. Both weapon types were introduced in 2nd Gen, where we started, so maining those two for him is a bit symbolic. Also the fact that LS has been heralded as the most used weapon-type and HH the least used as of recent games is a neat contrast to use both.

The Characters, Setting, and Story

I know Monster Hunter isn’t exactly known for it’s characters or story, heck most games hardly had a story until World came out. Typically Monster Hunter games follow the simple formula of big bad flagship monster causing problems with local village and ecosystem, hunt it, happy ending?, turns out bigger badder scarier secret boss monster was actually causing the problems, hunt it, true happy ending. Nothing wrong with that, I can roll with whatever story they make, majority of players are here for the gameplay. That said, I still enjoy and appreciate what story the devs put together no matter how it turns out. I liked what Rise offered, nothing too grand like World, more of a simple story following the old games formula. 

Surprisingly I haven’t seen many people talk about the characters in this game and the little fact that this is the first time in the ENTIRE SERIES (outside of MH Stories) characters have REAL names! Hinoa, Minoto, Fugen, Yomogi, Iori, Hamon, Rondine, Hojo, Utsushi, like honest to goodness actual NAMES, not “Blacksmith,” “Village Elder,” or “Fish Mongress.” The characters are fun though, nice and memorable, not really annoying. Also following World’s fully voice-acted characters is a nice touch. I sometimes miss the days of old when characters had simple grunts and you read everything, but I doubt that will ever come back now, just something lost to the classic MH games. 

Then there’s the super Asian-inspired ninja-like theme to the entire game. You’ll either love it, hate it, or maybe you don’t care about how the village is at all. I like the whole ninja aesthetic while it does work for this game in particular, but I will admit its a little bit weird in the entirety of Monster Hunter as a series.

The Hunts, Gameplay, and Everything Else

Ah yes, the gameplay, the heart of the Monster Hunter games... while yes I do think this game is a lot of fun overall, I do have a few complaints with it... I’m going to break this down into mini-sections because there is a lot to cover here.

Quest Preparations Maybe I’m just old school, but I feel like they took away a lot of the prep work for going on hunts. No cold/ hot drinks, access full inventory on quests, refill items, no longer eat for attack/ def buffs, monsters always visible on maps, no random spawning on High Rank quests, little things like that. In the old games you had to prepare for each hunt, it was part of the game. You go after a big monster, you make sure you got everything you need to win BEFORE you depart on the quest. It feels like they are double-downing more so on just the fighting itself. 

Tracking Monsters Monsters aren’t even tracked anymore, they’re always visible on your map. No having to run around and look for them like classic MH games... Though to be fair maybe that’s better off in the old games with the paintball tracking system and individual loaded areas than in a game with a fully open-world setting because I got headaches tracking monsters in MH World’s open-world especially the Ancient Forest. 

The Monsters The new monsters in this game a welcome addition. I don’t really have any problems with their designs or fights. Have to say Goss Horag has a very fun fight, but my favorite new monster is probably Rakna-Kadaki. A pelican spider is a dang neat idea for a monster and there aren’t a lot of Temnocerans. Would love to see the return of the Carapaceons though! This is literally the perfect game for Shen-Gaoren to come back with the new rampage system! Bring back my giant enemy crab, Capcom please!

Monster Behavior/ Minion Monsters/ Herbivores Added this subsection to talk specifically about the monsters’ behaviors in this game along with the minion monsters cause while not very important overall there are still some things to be said. 

Same thing in MH World, but the monsters act more like animals now. While yes, that is more realistic and is mostly a good thing, but it honestly gives me second thoughts about hunting them. In World most boss monsters wouldn’t attack you unless you attacked them first. That made me feel terrible walking up to a calm Teostra just chilling in the dunes and then I start smacking the heck outta it with a weapon... Old games the monsters saw you, the “something’s gonna getcha music starts playing” and then it charges you and your in the fight! Now its like you’re the monster killing a bunch of animals (exaggerating a bit, but still!)

What’s not exaggerated is the minions in this game. The old games had minions that were incredibly annoying and I wanted to kill them. This game however has the sweet little bullfangos, jagras, and other minions just lazing around sleeping. My brother and I were in need of Rhenoplos scalps for some gear, set out on a quest to slay some, find them peacefully sleeping by some rocks and I ask my brother, “Okay, so you gonna bash its skull in with your hammer and pop its eyes out or am I gonna fill it full of lead with my bowgun?” Needlessly violent example, I know, but it still makes the point that it feels more like animal cruelty when they aren’t bothering anyone. I’d rather the minions just start charging me and piss me off as a player, so I wouldn’t feel bad defending myself to take them out. 

Lastly, there’s the herbivores. Not a lot to say on the matter, but I feel like they could’ve given a few more herbivore types. Like no Aptonoth in this game? I thought they were kinda a staple of the series for herbivores. I also feel like the maps could feel a bit more lively with more herbivores placed around. Maybe Mosswines in the Shrine Ruins, especially when scaling the central mountain shrine with the mushroom colonies everywhere. Great spots for mushroom piggies! 

The Maps/ Locales I love them! Well for the most part. They are good and I don’t dislike any in particular. My only problems is that they sometimes feel too big, too open, and too empty. I know they have a lot of stuff in them, gathering points, spiribirds, relics, and many other things, but there is an odd sense of emptiness there. Like I mentioned earlier, I think perhaps adding in more scattered monsters might’ve helped that a bit. Only other thing to mention is that the new locales rely too heavily on the Palamutes to get around effectively. I personally like bringing my kitties with me on multiplayer quests, so I am at the mercy of wirebug zipping to get around and often left behind. 

Oh, last thing I will mention on maps is while its not in the base game, I pray they add back the Tower as a map. Preferably the 2nd Gen version where you start at base camp and scale the tower. A game that’s all about rising and verticality, the Tower is literally the PERFECT map to have in this game! 

Spiribirds Love em or hate them, there’s the Spiribirds. Cool concept, but I don’t think it works very well in my opinion. I don’t care about roaming the map to collect my bird buffs, I just want to eat for Attack Up large like old games and be done. I definitely try to grab them when I can, but I can’t be bothered to chase down all the birds each and every hunt just to get my full Attack up buff. 

Wirebugs On with the title of the game being Rise giving meaning to the new wirebugs feature. Wirebugs are fun to use, zip around the map, super attacks, and what-not, but I can’t help but feel its a little out of place in a Monster Hunter game. Feels like I’m Spider-Man or something. I know I praised this when I played the demo and I’m not dissing it now, I still enjoy using them, but I am also admitting that they do feel very outlandish for a Monster Hunter game. Still better than the slinger/ clutch claw though! Let’s never talk about those accursed items again. 

Silkbinds The Silkbind attacks though are fully great! I love having access to super attacks like Hunting Arts and things like that for my weapons, so I sincerely hope they keep some kind of super attack format in future games.

Mounting The mounting system in this game is weird, but pretty cool! Its a great way to let you control a monster for a change and beat the snot out of other monsters as a monster. I saw someone describe it is as “going full on Ratatouille with the monsters” and honestly there isn’t a better way to explain it than that. 

Palicoes/ Palamutes The Buddy System in this game is great! Palicoes still feel about the same as they did in World, maybe a little less powerful now since you can have two of them at once, still love them though and prefer to bring a Palico with me on my quests. 

Then there is the new doggies, the Palamutes! Super cute and cuddly, but also quite powerful! I love the doggos, but I wish the maps weren’t designed around them. I like to bring my cat with me on multiplayer quests, so I don’t get a dog to ride and the maps are HUGE, very wide-opened, lots of running... Wirebugs help, but still not quite as fast as the puppies. 

Oh and two little pet peeve of mine is you can’t see other players buddy names and you can’t change buddy comments! I want people to be able to see my buddies’ names and I need my Garfield cat’s comment to say “I hate Mondays.” and my Sonic dog to say “Gotta go fast!” and my Courage the Cowardly Dog dog to have “The things I do for love.” Unless there is a hidden menu somewhere where you can edit these, but alas I have yet to find it...

Voiced Hunters Hunters have always been the silent protagonists of the games with attack grunts, hurt sounds, and little to nothing more. Now they are full voiced for gestures and full hunting dialogue. I really like this, its funny to hear them shout things and stuff and having some familiar voice actors in the game is really cool to have them voice my characters. My brother rocking the Xander Mobus voice-type on his hunter is freakin’ cool and hilarious at the same time. I am tempted to make a Zentisu hunter, name him Zenitsu, give him the Zentisu voice-type, and go full Thunderclap maining a Thunder-type Long Sword just for the heck of it. Oh and also there’s the fact that CRISTINA VEE IS OFFICIALLY IN A MONSTER HUNTER GAME NOW AS A FEMALE VOICE OPTION! Still feels weird comparing it to previous games, but I’m okay with it because the fun factor in it outweighs the weird for me personally. Besides if you for some reason decided you hate fun you can just mute them in the options. 

Layered Armor (or lack-of) I love Layered Armor... and there is only two sets in this game. The Deluxe Edition’s “Kamurai” samurai looking layered armor and the Magnamalo amiibo “Sinister” layered set with a few head only layered pieces as DLC in the eShop. I was honestly expecting all armor to be layered and unlockable in the base game after the huge demand for layered armor in MH World and Transmog being a thing in the side team’s last game, MHXX/ MHGU. 

I think a mixed system of both Transmog and Layered Armor would be ideal. Transmog system for in-game armors and then additional bonus themed armor sets made as Layered Armors like the Kamurai set. That way players can be rewarded for crafting all the armors with use of a Transmog system even giving an incentive to make multiple sets twice to Transmog differently. While the devs could still make money off cool unique Layered sets as DLC in the eShop. Literally fixes both issues right there. Feel free to use that idea, Capcom, and you’re welcome.

Multiplayer/ Lobbies/ Scaling Four people lobbies are back! Not necessarily a good thing. I mean hey its not bad either, but I honestly preferred the larger lobbies like World had. Having more people doesn’t make it less social. All they need is to force people to do multiplayer quests in the Gathering Hub. I prefer large lobbies and have people do whatever they want and meet up in the Hub for socials. Mainly what I dislike about 4 player lobbies is everyone will be expected to help each other on their quests within the lobby. I just want to chill and do my own thing, but see and interact with other players in the village between quests. Oh, but the ability to join quests late is seriously great! Dropping into a lobby and seeing people already on a quest and being able to jump in with them is a godsend! 

Difficulty scaling is a very weird thing. It’s basically a double-edged sword. Its good to have because you can beat everything on your own, but that also defeats the purpose of multiplayer. In the past games, Hub quests were scaled higher for multiplayer, so getting more people to help only made it easier. Now, why bother with players when you could just do it yourself scaled to an easier single-player difficulty? I can usually get faster times when I solo things now. Multiplayer is there just for the social aspect to goof around with friends or if you just wanna do chill hunting with people. It’s no longer a requirement or an aid for beating the game. Like I said, its a weird thing, not bad, but not good either? I dunno, I just compare a lot of things to the classic MH games. In the past getting a second player to help makes it twice as easy compared to beating a Hub quest by yourself, while getting four players makes it where you’re effectively doing 4x more damage. Now its like you get 4-players and the monster gets 4x the health too. That might not be the exact scaling, but you get my point. 

One last thing I want to touch on which a lot of people have already mentioned is the fact multiplayer can get pretty chaotic. Especially when you have 4 players with 4 palamutes all smacking away at a monster. Hit effects are EVERYWHERE! Creates quite the mess and can be hard to tell what’s happening. 

Quest Difficulty/ Harder Monsters I don’t care too much about how hard the game is and I know this is a touchy subject, but I do like challenging monsters, without relying on gimmicky crap to fight them. MH World was filled with gimmicky fights like Behemoth, Leshen, even Alatreon and Fatalis to some degree. I still have Extreme Behemoth PTSD. I just want good clean fights, no damage checks, unavoidable one-hit kill moves, crap like that is not cool. I want to cart because I screwed up and made a wrong move and got punished by some wicked strong attack from a big bad boss monster. Not a stupid damage check telling me, “Oh, you not do enough damage, you die now.” To be fair, old Monster Hunter games had some gimmicky fights too though. MH4U with Apex Monsters and Wystones, MHGU with HP tank Hyper Monsters, heck even Freedom 2 was unintentionally gimmicky with outrageous hitboxes haha. Oh, that game was brutal! Deviants in MHGU were amazing though! Some really tough fights there, but incredibly rewarding to beat, that’s what I love!

The Endgame/ Secret Bosses (or lack-of) There is no Endgame, we are stuck in the Infinity War for now (or Affinity War as my brother calls it since the meta is all about those crits!) Okay, so that’s a bit harsh, all jokes aside there is an endgame, but its not exactly what I was expecting and leaves me wanting more. One of my favorite aspects of Monster Hunter games is the endgames and the secrets they hold, which this game had very few! They revealed nearly EVERY monster before this game launched. I get it, they want to sell their game, but leave some secrets please. Only monster that was secret was just the final boss. I love getting to the end of the game and unlocking new quests to fight the big scary endgame bosses. I guess World kinda suffered from that too a little bit. Mostly hanging on to old games like Freedom Unite unlocking Fatalis, MH3U getting Abyssal Lagiacrus, and Molten Tigrex in MH4U was very cool! Could just be the state of games these days like Smash Ultimate where they reveal everything before the game is out since data miners will just leak them anyways... kinda makes me sad. 

Updates and Future Content

I know this game has planned updates that will add a lot of content, but I can’t help but feel those “updates” were part of the game that’s been withheld to make the updates feel like so much more. Its like they ripped out the ending of the game and are passing it of as a big huge update to be released after launch. 

The real kick to this is the fact there is no Hunter Rank in the current game... I’ve done approximately 300 quests so far in my game, its going to hurt me very badly when I see the HR update come out and I don’t get any HR for the hunts I’ve done so far. I know some people could care less about HR and just see it as a number, but for me that number is a nice thing to see. I love seeing it go up as I do more quests and play more of the game. Going hard at launch has been a lot of fun, but less rewarding knowing I am quite possibly not getting any HR points for all my gameplay. 

Only reason I can see they would not want to allow a buildup of HR before this update is because this update will add a bunch of new endgame monsters most likely unlocked through getting high Hunter Rank. I pray for my boy Akantor to finally shine again, I know the side team loves him, so let’s please get him into Rise! AND Please don’t show them off in videos, Capcom! Just stealth drop a bunch of Elder Dragons and Endgame bosses into the game!

Final Thoughts

I’m probably just stuck in the old days some, I guess this is just how the games will be going forward, but a bit of that makes me sad. Feels like the game series I loved so much is losing some character and personality of what made is special and unique. This review might’ve got a bit ranty, but I like to critique a game series I am very passionate about. World was very similar to this. From everything I’ve said, by no means do I hate this game. I still love MH Rise and the entire series and I’ll keep playing it having a lot of fun along the way. Best way I can describe Monster Hunter Rise is it’s the Side Team’s Monster Hunter World. Its fresh, new, and very experimental! 

All in all this game is still great and I stand by what I said at the beginning of this entire post, its a blast to play! I hope everyone can enjoy it and remember, Happy Hunting! 

[bobasheebaby]

Malneirophrenia- Monsters chapter 7

Pairing: Olivia x MC; Liam x Olivia

Word count: 2,984

Warnings: evil Liam, evil Olivia, eating disorder, child abuse/neglect

Summary: Emma meets her sponsors and gets a crash course in everything she will need for the social season.

A/N: And we’re in Cordonia, and we are meeting the Beaumont’s ... finally. @sirbeepsalot and I still have another chapter planned before the social season, but soon I promise. 

Series warnings: Evil Liam, Evil Olivia, child abuse, character death, abuse, knife violence, blood, unhealthy sexual situations, NSFW content to come. By asking to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age.

Let one of us know if you want on or off the taglist.

Disclaimer: We only own our OC’s, the rest we are just borrowing from PB.

Malneirophrenia: the feeling of unease or unhappiness that comes from waking up from a nightmare.

Emma gazed out the window as they traveled the winding roads of the lush Cordonian countryside. Everything here was so different. She grew up in the dense, harsh city; here, everything was lush and open. It was as if dilapidated buildings didn’t exist in Cordonia; instead, quaint country villages spotted with cute, vintage homes transitioned into impressive manors surrounded by sprawling vineyards. Will I ever fit in here?

Her clover green eyes went wide as their car stopped in front of an impressive stone and wood mansion, with lush lawns and gardens that appeared to stretch on forever. “Is this the palace?”

Liam chuckled. “We’re in Duchy Ramsford at the Beaumont estate. You will be staying here until the start of the social season.”

Emma’s heart hammered in her chest. Did they already change their minds about me?

“Li, you’re scaring the poor girl.” Olivia lightly touched Emma’s arm. “Emma, Liam needs to go back to the palace and it wouldn’t be proper for a suitor to arrive so early. The Beaumont brothers have graciously offered to sponsor you.”

“Wait, suitor? You told me you brought me to Cordonia to be Liam’s queen.” Her heart pounded in her chest. See, you’re too trusting. They lied to you.

“You are,” Olivia said softly.

“Why do I need a sponsor then?” Emma asked as she looked between Liam and Olivia.

Liam glanced at Olivia before clearing his throat. “Emma, I understand this doesn’t make sense, but it is customary for noblemen and women to go through a social season to find spouses. I will choose you. We want to build a life with you.”

Emma’s eyes widened in surprise, she thought all of this was already set. She didn’t realize she had to pretend to compete for him while other members of royalty silently judged her every move. He said he’d choose her, but what if she fumbled and everyone hated her? Could she handle another failure to her name?

Emma stepped out of the vehicle. She felt slightly more comfortable but was still nervous. She didn’t know these people and she was expected to live with them. Could she trust two men whom she had never met?

“Olivia will be staying to make sure they take good care of you and help you settle,” Liam said stepping beside her. “Duke Bertrand will also help prepare you for your role by teaching you what you need to know about life at court.”

Emma smiled slightly at the thought that she wouldn’t be alone. Olivia was tough but she was kind. Emma was relieved that she was staying with her. She smiled at Liam, nodding her understanding as shouts filled the air around her.

“You’re here! Bertrand, they’re here!” A tall, thin man with bright blue eyes and dark brown hair shouted his greetings as he bounded down the front stairs to greet them.

“I can see that, Maxwell.” A shorter, more serious man Emma took to be Bertrand said walking down the stairs at a much slower pace. “You may have grown up with His Majesty, but can you please keep up some courtly protocol?”

Maxwell deflated. “Sorry, Bertrand.”

“Yes, well do better,” Bertrand said as he smoothed down the front of his brown sweater vest.

Emma appraised the pair. Maxwell was loud, effervescent, and exuded energy. Bertrand was more stern with a face that seemed permanently etched with a scowl. She wondered how the two could actually be brothers. She straightened as she felt Bertrand’s eyes fall on her, his lips pulled into a thin line as he scrutinized her.

“Your Majesty,” Bertrand dipped into a smooth bow before turning to Olivia. “Duchess Olivia, I do hope your journey was alright. I would like to once again extend you both my sympathies about the king father, such a tragic loss.”

Liam nodded, his stoic façade in place. “Thank you, Duke Bertrand. I’d like to thank you for offering to sponsor Lady Emma.” His onyx stare reminding him of their deal; help Emma, parade her as their own, keep Liam's secret, and receive everything needed to regain his house’s status.

“It's an honor, sir.” He turned to Emma giving her a stiff nod. “You must be Lady Emma. I am Bertrand Beaumont, Duke of Ramsford.”

Emma racked her brain trying to remember the crash course in etiquette that she received on the plane from New York. “Yes, your Grace. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance,” she replied as she dipped into an awkward curtsy.

“Hmm.” Bertrand momentarily questioned why the new reigning monarch wanted him to sponsor this woman and claim her as his own. He nearly backed out of their deal, but the promise of wealth and keeping their status untarnished won out. The king had offered a lot of money, money House Beaumont desperately needed to return to its former glory. It also helped that Liam said this woman would be his queen. “It’s going to take a lot of hard work but I will have her presentable in time for the start of the social season.”

--

“And this is your room,” Maxwell said with a flourish of his arms.

“Thank you,” Emma said giving him a shy smile. He seemed nice but she found his personality a bit overwhelming.

She stepped into the spacious room, her eyes going wide as she took in the space. I could fit my first studio apartment in here twice. She set her Daemarrel bag on the bed before the sudden realization that she had moved across an ocean with nothing but a new purse and a few items to her name hitting her full force.

She swallowed, thinking of all she needed to replace. Did I grab my wallet? Can I even access my account or will the police use it to find me? She gave a soft sigh. This would be any girl’s dream come true, but she was starting to wonder if this was just her being beholden to another man.

Her thoughts drifted to the crimson goddess as she sank into the soft bedding. Thoughts of her stirred butterflies in her stomach and she wondered if Olivia had similar feelings. She rolled to her side and sighed. Her new life would be so much easier if she didn’t have to vie for the hand of a king. She wished the three of them could simply start building their new life together. Liam and Olivia were sweet and kind -- all three of them had survived personal hells. The thought of belonging, of being safe with them, made her happy.

But she knew this was how it had to be for now. Tomorrow, she remembered Bertrand telling her, she would start to learn the skills needed to be queen.

---

Emma sat at a grand oak table in a hard, uncomfortable chair. She stared wide-eyed at the place setting before her, her hands neatly folded in her lap as Bertrand had instructed. Her eyes scanned over the multiple forks as she tried desperately to remember the basic etiquette course she’d had in her home economics class. She gave a soft, hesitant smile as she lifted her left hand, fingers delicately wrapping around the fork closest to the plate. Her head snapped to the side as Olivia gently cleared her throat before picking up the correct fork.

Emma flashed Olivia a grateful smile as she tried to ignore the way her heart raced in her presence. She lifted the correct fork and tucked into her salad. She never realized there were so many different utensils that each served a distinct purpose during the meal. She wondered if Bertrand got a perverse joy watching her fail time and time again. Each new rule seemed to be spoken in a language only the elite could ever understand. Will I ever get this down? Will I ever make them believe I belong?

Always taste your food before seasoning it was one rule she found easy to follow. Growing up, her mother would smack her hand, calling her an ungrateful brat if she even thought of modifying the dish she had been served. It led her to accept what she was served.

Emma casually glanced at Olivia, she watched as Olivia pushed the salad around her plate. Is there something wrong with the food? She cautiously pierced a few delicate leaves with her fork, bringing the lightly dressed greens to her mouth. It seems fine to me.

She tried to conceal her surprise when her salad plate was whisked away and replaced by a new dish. Her eyes swept over her main course: a small, whole bird served with rice pilaf and asparagus. She looked at her utensils. At least there is only one fork left.

“Lady Emma, could you please pass me the salt?” Bertrand requested, his watchful gaze burning into her.

“Of course,” she replied with a tentative smile. His previous words pinged in her head; pass the salt and pepper together. That rule felt dumb. She couldn’t understand why you would pass both if they had only requested one, but maybe there was something she would eventually understand about always keeping them together.

She carefully picked up the salt and pepper, what did he say about passing items? She ran through the rules in her head: set passed items directly on the table instead of passing hand to hand. She set the shakers to the right of Bertrand’s plate before flashing him a soft, proud smile.

“Thank you, Lady Emma,” Bertrand said.

His words felt cold and hard, like the false praise you’d give to a scolded child or a misbehaving dog. She nodded her head in his direction, worry her voice may crack if she were to speak aloud.

Her palms felt sweaty as she watched the others carefully cut off bite-sized portions of the bird. How do I even begin to cut it? It’s basically whole, all it’s missing is it’s head, feet, and feathers.

She surreptitiously slid her hands to her lap, thankful to have the linen napkin to dry her sweaty palms. One rule is a win; the napkin rests on your lap until the end of the meal. Emma flashed an uneasy smile as she lifted her knife and fork, carefully cutting a small piece of breast meat from the bone. Here’s to new things, she thought as she brought the meat to her lips.

Her eyes fell on Olivia’s plate as she chewed. She noticed that, despite the appearance Olivia gave, she’d hardly touched her meal. Why isn’t she eating? She suddenly realized that she had hardly seen Olivia eat since they met.

- -

Olivia tilted her head down, her eyes trained on her plate as she pushed the food around. Her stomach gave a soft rumble, but she refused to take a bite; she knew the food on her plate wouldn’t be nearly as edible as it appeared. Regina simply kept up the appearance of keeping her well cared for.

She speared a lima bean with her fork, summoning the courage to eat it no matter how vile it might taste. Regina enjoyed using food to punish her and would tamper with her meals to make them inedible: vinegar in her soup, extra salt on her vegetables, overcooked and burnt meat. She did her best to stomach it since mealtime was the only time she was able to eat. She’d once tried to sneak into the kitchen late at night, only to find that Regina kept the food locked tight.

If you wanted to eat you ate with the ‘family’ or you could starve. Maybe starving isn’t so bad.

- -

Unknown to Emma, Olivia had requested that Bertrand schedule time for her to teach Emma about more feminine matters. Bertrand didn’t question her; he asked how long she needed and to let him know if he could assist in any way with the lesson.

Olivia spent the afternoon in Emma’s room reviewing the items her stylist had sent over for Emma. She smiled as she ran her fingers down the sleeve of a kelly green cashmere sweater. There was a reason she kept Sasha around; she was a wizard with building wardrobes. She had even included a few ties and items for Liam that coordinated in a subtle way with several of Emma’s outfits. She nodded before sitting on the bed, lifting her legs and admiring the new deep red leather booties Sasha found for her. She loved that, even when shopping for Emma, she still kept her in mind. It felt nice to have someone care.

At 14.00, she walked downstairs and down the center hall of the Beaumont Estate. Their manor was one of the homes she enjoyed visiting. The brothers had kept with their family traditions but it had a light, airy feel to it that other estates and keeps didn’t have.

She arrived at the den and softly knocked before cracking the door open. She peeked inside and saw Emma sitting across from Bertrand. He had been teaching her Cordonian history and Olivia sensed the lesson went well based on the smile on her face.

“Lady Olivia,” Bertrand greeted as he stood. “Please, come in. We were just finishing up.”

Emma stood and turned, meeting Olivia’s eyes as she dipped into a passable curtsy.

“Emma, you don’t need to curtsy,” Olivia noted before looking to Bertrand.

“I thought it prudent that she practices each time she meets someone. Practice makes perfect.”

Emma kept her face passive as she stood. “Duke Bertrand was helping me with my form, but perhaps you can help me refine my skills.” She smiled as she looked at Bertrand. “As lovely as his curtsies are, I think they lack a woman’s touch.”

Bertrand nodded. “I’m sure Lady Olivia can help. She had one of the most rigorous teachers -- you’d be lucky to learn from her. She has perfected the art of court.”

Olivia nodded towards Bertrand. “Thank you. I like to think I have some talents. However, I have a lesson prepared for Emma. We will be down for dinner.”

The two women departed the lounge and headed towards Emma’s suite.

“How were your lessons?” Olivia asked.

Emma sighed. “They went well -- the duke is very nice if you get past the grumpy part of his personality. We talked about values and traditions … he also gave me curtsying lessons.”

Olivia chuckled. “I got the impression.”

“Sadly, he does curtsy better than me,” Emma said before glancing at Olivia. Their eyes met and they both laughed.

“You’ll get there. Keep in mind that you are learning the things we have had beaten into us since we were born.” Olivia took her hand as they reached Emma’s room. “I think you will enjoy your next lesson.”

“I’m trying to imagine what sort of lesson would be in my bedroom.”

“Dressing and appearance. Come with me,” Olivia said as she opened the door and gestured for Emma to enter.

Emma paused when she caught sight of the two wardrobe racks filled with clothes. Several pairs of shoes were neatly arranged along the floor and display trays and stands held a variety of jewelry and other accessories.

“Olivia, what … what is all this?” Emma glanced at Olivia before swallowing. She couldn’t even think about how much this cost; the rack of silken, glittery ball gowns must have cost a fortune.

Olivia walked to the rack that held the more casual items. She ran her hand over the soft sweaters before turning to look at Emma. “I told you my stylist was going to pull items for you.”

Emma shook her head. “But I can’t … I can’t afford this. It’s too much.”

Oliva walked up to Emma and took her hands. Emma looked down, refusing to look at Olivia as tears started to prick at her eyes. “Emma, look at me.”

Emma lifted her face, blinking her eyes in a vain attempt to hide her tears. “I’m sorry.”

“We are family now. This -- everything -- it is simply how your life is now. It isn’t a gift, you do not owe us anything. What you need, we will provide. What we need, you will provide. You, me, Liam … it’s going to be the three of us and that means we support each other. Right now, you need clothes. Here,” Olivia shifted so she stood next to Emma and gently turned her to face the clothes, “are your clothes. We will shop more before we leave for the capital, and you don’t have to keep anything you don’t like. Now let’s have fun trying on outfits and having girl time.”

Emma let out a little laugh. “I know, I’m sorry, I just --”

“Emma, don’t apologize for how you feel. You can be apprehensive, or unsure … but I’m here for you and anything you need or want …” Olivia blushed a bit before taking Emma’s hand and stepping up to one of the clothing racks. “I am able to offer insight and lessons that Bertrand is unable to … help you in ways the men can’t.”

Emma squeezed Olivia’s hand as her fingers reached up and brushed the sleeve of the kelly green cashmere sweater. “You’re right, Olivia, and you have already been more of a friend than I would have ever expected.” She lifted the sweater off the rack and held it to her chest, her eyes looking down at the soft fabric floating over her blouse.

“It’s a beautiful color on you,” Olivia noted. “I sent Sasha some photos so she could match your coloring. I think she did a wonderful job.”

Emma bit her lip as she turned to face Olivia. “Everything here is so beautiful. Tell me what I need to do to be a part of your world.”

Feedback fuels us, please like, comment or reblog to let us know how much you like it. We can handle the screams, so scream away.

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[lovepmd]

first

names and events subject to change for any reason or no reason

Shapeshifter AU: “The Question”

By the time the group got to the Red Mountain Pass, they agreed that Lux should stay in a different form as often as possible. Since they stand out more staying in their “normal” form, but other forms look fine and are more solid, it was the best way to stay safe.

They said good-bye to the elder and went on their way, continuing their journey to the guild town. The rest of the way was much easier since they were more cautious now.

The group reached the edge of the town and stopped for a moment to take in the sight of it. It was bigger than their little village, for sure. Homes and shops lined along one side of the town, where many pokemon ran and walked around to do their daily jobs. Straight ahead was a sea, and there were a few pokemon they could barely make out just above the water. Along the other side of the town was obviously the guild, and another smaller building next to it. The guild was built tall to tower over the rest of the town, with a few different entrances into it, but each one was guarded. There was an entrance at ground level, one halfway up the building (from the looks of it, it’s more for members only), and one at the very top where some bird pokemon were flying in and out of. The top of the guild was also made to look similar to a zoroark’s head, making it clear who was in charge of it.

Lux (currently an ivysaur) looked around in awe, as did their companions. 

“This place is cool! I want to go everywhere!” Aiden exclaimed.

“Hey, remember we’re on a mission! This isn’t a vacation,” Naida reminded him, lightly nudging her brother.

The siblings continued to talk and debate over where to go first, and Lux looked back up at the guild. They noticed something sitting on the very top and squinted. Was that there just a second ago?

It was a flygon perched on the top, who seemed to be looking back in their direction. Lux had an uneasy feeling go through them, it was like the flygon was staring right at them.

Before Lux could say anything to get the siblings’ attention, the flygon flew up and headed down towards them. Aiden and Naida noticed and watched the pokemon descend and land gracefully in front of them.

“Cool...” Aiden whispered, before straightening up. “Uh, hello! We’re new here.”

“If you don’t mind, we request to see the guildmaster,” Naida explained. “There’s something we need to ask about.”

The flygon was quiet, looking over all three of them in turn. He was obviously studying them carefully, and Lux resisted the urge to change forms into something smaller. “You three are definitely not from around these parts, you must’ve come from far away,” he finally spoke. “And what business do you have with the guildmaster? Is it urgent? Is there one of those things where you’re from?”

“Things?” Naida asked, glancing at her brother and Lux, but they both shrugged.

“I guess not,” the flygon muttered, glancing back towards the guild before looking at them again. “If it’s not an emergency, you’ll have to wait a little bit. The remaining pokemon from another village came into town recently, so everyone is working to get them settled.”

“Remaining...pokemon?” Aiden mumbled, shrinking back slightly.

The flygon sighed and shook his head. “Never mind. Anyway, since this is your first visit to Shield Town, I’m going to need to inspect your bags. Is that alright?”

The three pokemon looked at each other in confusion at the request, but none of them were going to argue about it. They removed their bags and handed them over to the flygon, who began searching through them carefully.

After searching through all their belongings, the flygon returned their bags. “Alright, you guys can pass. Go over to that main entrance, I’ll let them know you’re cleared to go in.” Without another word, he flew up and back towards the guild, entering through the top.

Aiden bounced a couple times and laughed. “He was cool! He must work for the guild or something. Aww, I want to join already!”

His sister sighed and shook her head. “I know you want to, Aiden, but that’s not what we’re here for. Besides, some of these places have an age limit, don’t they? And you only just recently started seriously exploring!”

The quilava huffed. “Sure, but they could train me. At least you’re lucky, any place would be glad to take you in for your singing.”

“I agree,” Lux chimed in. “And any guild would be fine with taking in someone so eager to explore.”

The siblings looked back at the shifter and then shuffled a little in embarrassment. “C-come on, let’s go already,” Naida muttered, adjusting her bag before heading towards the guild entrance, her companions following.

-

They stepped into the guild, looking around at everything. The building was clean, and well put together and it was obviously more like a stronghold than anything else. They stayed in the front area with a few other pokemon, who were there to get help of some kind.

Lux settled down next to one of the walls and observed. There were a couple pokemon talking to a ditto nearby, another few pokemon settled down nearby and one of them was crying and being comforted, and there was a large board against the back wall with several papers attached to it. Squinting a little, Lux could see many of the papers were for mission pokemon. Is there one of those things near where you’re from? The remaining pokemon from another village came into town recently, the flygon’s words echoed in their mind. Was something going on around here? Was it not normal for this many pokemon to be running around and busy with something? Though it made sense, if things were peaceful like they were back at the village, then everything would be calmer here. So why weren’t things calmer?

The shifter broke out of their thoughts when they noticed Aiden and Naida walking over to the group of pokemon. The crying one was a sewaddle, who peered over at them and sniffled. The one holding and comforting them was a gardevoir, and Lux realized most of the group was grass pokemon.

“Hey there,” Aiden spoke softly, taking a small container from his bag and pushing it forward. “Want some? My mom made it, she’s good at mixing the right kind of berries.”

The sewaddle sniffed and glanced up at the gardevoir, who reached over and took the container, opening it and holding it for the sewaddle to eat. “Thank you,” the gardevoir said, smiling at Aiden.

Aiden nodded and stepped back, and Naida took a step forward. “Hello. Do you like it? That mix is one of our favorites.”

The sewaddle nodded in between gulps, eating the whole thing. Naida giggled and then cleared her throat. Then she began to sing, it was the lullaby she sang back at the village.

Lux looked around the room to notice most of the other pokemon had gone quiet and looked over at the brionne as she sang. Just like before, the shifter felt a wave of calm wash over them from her voice. Lux noticed the gardevoir held the sewaddle close and began to rock him, and the child slowly fell asleep.

Naida finished singing and the room was quiet for a few moments, and then business continued. Even if it was for a few moments, Lux hoped the song helped everyone relax a little.

“Thank you, the both of you, you’re very kind.” The gardevoir whispered to the siblings, cradling the sewaddle.

The siblings nodded and went back over to Lux, who nudged the both of them with their vines. “Good job you two, that was really sweet.”

“I agree.”

A voice piped up next to the trio, surprising them. They looked over to see a zoroark standing nearby, leaning against the wall.

Aiden’s eyes widened and he stumbled around with his words before his question became clear. “Are-I’m-you-are you the g-guildmaster?”

The zoroark laughed and gestured with a paw, walking away. “Come on, while we have a moment.”

-

The three of them followed the zoroark down a hallway and up some stairs. Lux glanced around at the different rooms they passed. One door had a label marked “storage” and another marked “spares”. A couple rooms had pokemon in them who were busy and talking, but the shifter didn’t get a chance to really listen to them or see what they were doing.

They entered a large room, mostly empty except for a desk near the back wall, and piles of papers sitting on it. The zoroark stopped in front of the desk and looked back at them, the trio lined up in front of her a few feet away. “Alright, so you wanted to see me? You’re lucky we’re not too busy right now, or else I would’ve asked you to stay at the hotel and wait until tomorrow, if it’s not an emergency.”

Lux could practically see Aiden vibrating with excitement next to them, but they were glad he was behaving himself.

Naida looked at Lux, a little unsure. The shifter nodded at her. This is what they came all this way for, this was the moment. The brionne took a deep breath and stepped forward. “We came here hoping you could provide some answers,” she started calmly. “Or if there’s just some way you could help us. Help Lux, actually.”

The zoroark looked at her curiously. “Oh? And what questions are you asking?”

Naida looked back at Lux, who took a step forward. Lux stared at the guildmaster for a moment, before closing their eyes and beginning to change forms. They heard the zoroark gasp, and when they opened their eyes, they were in their normal, weird, pink goopy form.

The guildmaster was staring at them, clearly surprised at the sight. Lux floated up into the air a little, and rubbed an arm nervously.

“What am I?”

[writerspink]

K-12 Words

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5.1

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6.1

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6.2

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7.2

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8.1

apprehensive dialogue prejudice marvel eligible accommodate arrogant distinct knack deposit liberate cumulative consequence strive salvage chronological unique vow concise influence lure poverty priority legislation significant conserve verdict leisure erupt beacon stationary generate provoke efficient campaign paraphrase swarm adhere eerie mere mimic deteriorate literal preliminary solar soothe expanse ignite verge recount apparel terrain ample quest composure majority collide prominent duration pursue innovation omniscient resolute unruly optimist restrain agony convenient constant prosper elaborate genre retrieve exploit continuous dissolve dwell persecute abandon meager elude rural retaliate primitive remote blunder propel vital designate cultivate loathe consent drastic fuse maximum negotiate barren transform conspicuous possess allegiance beneficial former factor deluge vibrant intimidate idiom dense awe rigorous manipulate transport discretion hostile clarity arid parody boisterous capacity massive prosecute declare stifle remorse refuge predicament treacherous inevitable ingenious plummet adapt monotonous accumulate reinforce extract reluctant vacate hazardous inept diminish domestic linger context excel cancel distribute document fragile myth reject scuffle solitary temporary veteran assault convert dispute impressive justify misleading numerous productive shrewd strategy villain bluff cautious consist despise haven miniature monarch obstacle postpone straggle vivid aggressive associate deceive emigrate flexible glamour hazy luxurious mishap overwhelm span blemish blunt capable conclude detect fatigue festive hospitality nomad supreme

8.2

exclude civic compact painstaking supplement habitat leeway minute hoax contaminate likeness migration commentary extinct tangible originate urban unanimous subordinate collaborate obstacle esteem encounter futile cordial trait improvises superior exaggerate anticipate cope evolve eclipse dissent anguish subsequent sanctuary formulates makeshift controversy diversity terminate precise equivalent pamper prior potential obnoxious radiant predatory presume permanent pending simultaneously tamper supervise perceived vicious patronize trickle stodgy rant oration preview species poised perturb vista wince yearn persist shirk status tragedy trivial snare vindictive wrath recede peevish rupture unscathed random toxic void orthodox subtle resume sequel upright wary overwhelm perjury uncertainty prowess utmost throb pluck pique vengeance pelt urgent substantial robust sullen retort ponder whim saga sham reprimand vocation assimilate dub defect accord embark desist dialect chastise banter inaugurate ovation barter muse blasé stamina atrocity deter principal liberal epoch preposterous advocate audacious dispatch incense deplore institute deceptive component subside spontaneous bonanza ultimate wrangle clarify hindrance irascible plausible profound infinite accomplish apparent capacity civilian conceal duplicate keen provoke spurt undoing vast withdraw barrier calculate compose considerable deputy industrious jolt loot rejoice reliable senseless shrivel alternate demolish energetic enforce feat hearty mature observant primary resign strive verdict brisk cherish considerate displace downfall estimate humiliate identical improper poll soothe vicinity abolish appeal brittle condemn descend dictator expand famine portable prey thrifty visual

9.1

stance vie instill exceptional avail strident formidable rebuke enhance benign perspective tedious aloof encroach memoir mien desolate inventive prodigy staple stint fallacy grope vilify recur assail tirade antics recourse clad jurisdiction caption pseudonym reception humane ornate sage ungainly overt sedative amiss convey connoisseur rational enigma fortify servile fastidious contagious elite disgruntled eccentric pioneer abet luminous era sleek serene proficient rue articulate awry pungent wage deploy anarchy culminate inventory commemorate muster adept durable foreboding lucrative modify authority transition confiscate pivotal analogy avid flair ferret decree voracious imperative grapple deface augment shackle legendary trepidation discern glut cache endeavor attribute phenomenon balmy bizarre gullible loll rankle decipher sublime rubble renounce porous turbulent heritage hover pithy allot minimize agile renown fend revenue versa gaunt haven dire doctrine intricate conservative exotic facilitate bountiful cite panorama swelter foster indifferent millennium gingerly conscientious intervene mercenary citadel obviously rely supportive sympathy weakling atmosphere decay gradual impact noticeable recede stability variation approximately astronomical calculation criterion diameter evaluate orbit sphere agricultural decline disorder identify probable thrive expected widespread bulletin contribution diversity enlist intercept operation recruit survival abruptly ally collide confident conflict protective taunt adaptation dormant forage frigid hibernate insulate export glisten influence landscape native plantation restore urge blare connection errand exchange

9.2

feasible teem pang vice tycoon succumb capacious onslaught excerpt eventful forfeit crusade tract haggard susceptible exemplify ardent crucial excruciating embargo disdain apprehend surpass sporadic flustered languish conventional disposition theme plunder ignore project complaint title dramatic delivery litter experimental clinic arrogance preparation remind atomic occasional conscious deny maturity closure stressed translator animate observation physical further gently registration suppress combination amazing constructive allied poetry passion ecstasy mystery cheerful contribution spirit failed gummy commerce prove disagreement raid consume embarrass preference migrant devour encouragement quote mythology destined destination illuminating struggle accent ungrateful giggle approval confidence expose scientist operation superstitious emergency manners absolutely swallow readily mutual bound crisp orient stress sort stare comfort verbal heel challenging advertisement envious sex scar astonish basis accuracy enviable alliance specific chef embarrassed counter tolerable sympathetic gradually vanish informative amaze royal furry insist jealousy simplify quiver collaborate dedicated flexible function mimic obstacle technique archaeologist fragment historian intact preserve reconstruct remnant commence deed exaggeration heroic impress pose saunter wring astound concealed inquisitive interpret perplexed precise reconsider suspicious anticipation defy entitled neutral outspoken reserved sought equal absorb affect circulate conserve cycle necessity seep barren expression meaningful plume focused genius perspective prospect stunned superb transition assume guarantee nominate

10.1

install reticent corroborate regretfully strength murder concise cunning intention holy satire query confused progression disillusion background mundane abrupt multiple enormously introduce emulate harmful pragmatic pity rebut liberate enthusiastic elucidate camaraderie disparage nature creep profitability impression racist sobriety occupy autonomy currently amiable reiterate reproduce cripple modest offer atom provincial augment ungratefully expansion yield rashly allude immigration silence epitome exacerbate somber avid dispute vindicate collaborate manufacturer embellish superficial propaganda incompetent objective diminish statistics endure ambivalent perpetuate illuminate phenomenon exasperate originality restrict anxiety anthropology circumstances aesthetic manufacturing conventional dubious vulnerable reality precedent entity success term critical repair underscore stepmother republican hesitantly classic wary contents prediction immediate invoke notorious implicit excluding input skeptical foster element punish frank humanity profound dessert orthodox substance disappear encourage neighborhood elder superfluous naive ascertain complacent resilient deafening military tend prudent glare acceptance skillfully induce monster beam gullible conciliate vessel petty cantankerous disclose archaeology anecdote disdain electronics substantiate subjective tourism advisable joyful incredible provocative psychological ruins discipline condone indifferent misfortune judgmental industrialize tasty assume astute mission mar protective definitely escape oppress shocked virtual zealous endorse qualification hostile eccentric abstract disparate geographical scrutinize generalization tolerate activity claim dogmatic influential obsolete extol implausible subsequent resource chronic benevolent improve confidential ambiguous seriously dearth perplex hatred throughout dine contemporary evoke essentially economic flagrant obscure alleviate eloquent dreaadful clumsy sympathy victim condemn vigor condescend spontaneous quell reprehensible substantially sleeve equivocal ironic decry errand articulate progressive eradicate refreshments elicit aspiration recently exemplary bribery theoretical disingenuous partisan revere particle nostalgia self-aggrandizement debunk tyranny rhetoric hierarchy warning whimsical venerate commend assert miserable awful vibe constrain undermine explicit differentiate compliment scrupulous contempt erroneous ideal refute imply cynical rash presume insight revival vary delay renounce indignant offensive temperate circumstantial export peep logo advertise suppress distort chunk convoluted denounce overwhelming fertility rigorous acquire arrogant university antagonize profitable indulgent strategic breathing idiosyncrasy profession frugal discern accommodation adversary incredulous disturbance digress social belie roam smug continual pertinent voluntarily elite subtle blame sincerity lick horror censure involvement candid infer futile impetuous exploit bewilder sustain diligent sincere protect sealed musical empathy callous parenthetical insure acorn sarcasm seize sacrificially allege emphatic irrelevant progress diplomatic stunned improvise deride reconcile meticulous deject scientifically incontrovertible pressure justify gloomy depict supplant endurance analogous diary bolster slip contemplate pesticide glow religious advocate negligent creator lament fundamental embrace throne inherent inferior valuable thrive trivial pretense reserved capricious refresh refusal flight boost explanation coherent prevalent tenacious official royalty assassin rub poach delete

10.2

warrant circumscribed somewhat explosive optimistic mandate previously detract opinion intuitive feasible intimate persistent humble simplicity tempt deliberate painful unethical fundamentals discrepancy remorse pessimistic possibility conclusion acknowledge impregnate soberly creation paralyze suitability oblige tranquil medal arbitrate pacify illusory susceptible vibrate vengeance infection democratic stressful grave speculative sample identification stifle obligation revenge organization namely mediocre practical scream weaken consensus affectionate deficient treacherous console isolation ingenious memory melodrama despair awestruck composition regret recommendation celebrity decision devoid opaque ornamentation longevity participate dread restore interrogate aid accordingly mislead embarrassment optimism domestic apt funds virtue geography fundamentally thoroughly press despite horrible chilling rental esteemed disappointment innovative contemplation assign popularize haunt deafen serene percent estrangement suffer extravagant throng estimate comment priesthood mass dreadfully promote periphery animated saying relate clarity triple derivative succeed distortion register suicide improvement discreet inquisition probable curative incident praise convenience baffle covet dreadful genuinely weary undisturbed disgruntled humility renown nonchalant monopoly comedy vague decisive inconsequential announcement fabricated nevertheless vigilant scarce neglectful hushed attainment tedious explode snatch pslm agency sentimental tension adhere meanwhile sacred avert conformity likewise challenger accessible responsibility peril contact event roast fallible catastrophic competitor violate resolute deceive exaggeration discredit intolerable approve paste dimly novelist demeanor norm politician satisfaction obvious vehicle reservation defer involve restoration crush audible assistant backpack attain inanimate commemorate confrontation emigration parasite disperse quantitative laughter policy vulgar occasionally repay effective eulogy starvation empty therapeutic overall immortal encompass inappropriate opportune engagement illustrate turmoil observatory classification expression reminiscence comedian invention depress remedy protagonist gesture texture diplomatic election prolong conducive emotional invigorate curiosity expressive %

K-12 Words was originally published on PinkWrite

[tauers-go-dutch]

Barcelona: Where all the sangria was had

We caught a late flight on Friday to Barcelona for a long Easter weekend. We saved Saturday as a day for exploration. We started the day with brunch, of course, and it did not disappoint. We then strolled into the main parts of town, down Las Ramblas and through the gothic quarter. It probably makes more sense to allow the photos to document our day. The day ended on the docks at La Barceloneta followed by a fancy dinner at a Spanish tapas place. I had made reservations for 8 pm and we were the first ones to the restaurant. They really do run on a different schedule in Spain!

The following is an excerpt Ryan wanted to write due to an entertaining experience while on the docks: 

After Mariah and I walked around all day, we sat down at the pier to relax. Next to us was a British family. Two young boys play with the birds as their mom and dad watched on. However, the situation became a lot more fun when the oldest brother (probably high school freshman) joined his family. He apparently really wanted to get to the Barcelona FC football (soccer) game, but is also passionate about his rests (naps). I shit you not, this kid actually recited the following monologue.  Cue cheesy, nasally stereotypical British accent: "Mother," the brother said, "we really should get back to the hotel. We need to have a proper rest before the match.  If we don't leave now, we won't have time to get dinner before the match." After a pause, he continued, "Oh, well I know. I suppose we could get a hot dog at half time." I think what sold it for me was the fact that his parents completely ignored his complaints. He must do this sort of thing all the time. I was on the floor laughing at the absurdity- it was amazing.

The park where we decided Barcelona is our new favorite place

Gaudi’s Casa Battlo

Some of all of the sangria

Barcelona’s official cathedral, The Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia. It was impossible to get a decent photo, as it was surrounded by buildings on all sides. 

Barcelona’s Arch of Triumph. Actually built for a World Fair. 

The only kind of lobster I like

View from the pier 

We got up early Sunday morning, Easter, and walked to the Hard Rock Cafe to meet up with a tour group. We hopped on a bus with some new friends from Atlanta currently living and working in Helsinki and were off to Montserrat. Now, I had heard of Montserrat several years ago and had always wanted to go after seeing the incredible photos online. I must say, it definitely lived up to expectations. Legend goes, according to our tour guide, that a black statue of the Virgin Mary was found on the mountain. The dude who stumbled upon her tried to take her down the mountain to show the village people, but she eventually got too heavy to be moved! Instead, the people decided that must be where she was meant to stay, and they built a monastery around her. Some believe it is also the location of the holy grail, and people frequently make pilgrimage to the mountain.

Anyways, we went into the chapel in time for Easter service and had the privilege of hearing the world’s oldest formal boys’ choir sing. Afterward we had the opportunity to explore the mountain. We hiked up to St. Michael’s cross and took in the incredible views of the valley before hitting up the gift shop to sample the liquors made by the monks right there on the mountain. (It was delicious. If we could have taken liquids on the flight home with us, I am certain a bottle or two would have made its way back to Amsterdam!)

View from Montserrat

Outside the monastery 

The black Virgin Mary is up there ^^^

A smaller chapel located on Montserrat

St. Michael’s Cross and the view of Montserrat from the cross(top pic).

The second half of the day was reserved for wine tasting. We had a delicious lunch on the winery grounds then had a quick tour and finally got to taste some wines. Again, delicious, and if I could have taken a bottle home I definitely would have. The area is known for its Cava, similar to Champagne, but the winery we visited actually focused more on red blends. The winery, Oller del Mas, has been owned and operated by the same family for more than 1,000 years. I was slightly disappointed not to have been the heir of that castle…

Lunch on the winery’s golf course. Montserrat in the background.

Ryan helping Sandra explain wine fermentation

Wine tasting in a castle! 

After our tasting we headed back to Barcelona, where the night was still young. Our lovely tour guide, Sandra, recommended several restaurants to us, and we chose a taco place she said was popular with young locals. Best Mexican I’ve had in eight months!

Easter Monday, which is a national holiday in most of Europe, we had a second tour lined up. This time we were going to a region called Costa Brava. I chose it because it had beautiful pictures of beaches. Ryan chose it because Game of Thrones. Win-Win!

The day started in a small town north of Barcelona called Girona, which may be the most charming place I’ve ever been. (I tried to find a good In Bruges meme to insert here, but a quick google search is not turning up a whole lot.)

We explored the old Arab bath grounds then made our way up to the city walls. We walked the length of the city, taking in the scenes from above, before heading back to our meeting point. However, not before crossing the Eiffel Bridge, or the Pont de les Peixateries Velles, and stopping for some fancy ice cream from a chef who owns the only 4-star restaurant in Catalonia. It was so good. So. Good. I don’t think I can eat Ben & Jerry’s ever again. (Those of you who know me well know that’s a lie.) But-- it was so good. I got a lavender coconut ice cream with lavender-flavored marshmallows, honeycomb and strawberries. Ryan got a silly nose-shaped popsicle.

Girona

Several Game of Thrones scenes have been filmed in Girona, including Arya’s fight and flight through the narrow passageways to escape the Waif.

Jaime Lannister climbed that tower.

Eiffel’s lesser known work, Girona’s  Pont de les Peixateries Velles

World’s best ice cream gelato. And a weird red nose. 

Then it was time to hop in the van and head towards the coast. We stopped a small town called Pals for about half an hour then ended up in a true little coast town called Palafrugell. (Basically our tour guide walked us to a shop in Pals that gives him kickbacks if his tourists shop there. He literally made us wait outside while they gave him free liquors. Oh well.)

Quick stop in Pals

Palafrugell was absolutely beautiful, but unfortunately just a bit too chilly to enjoy the beach to its full potential. We stepped into a small beachside seafood place where I made the ultimate sacrifice of giving up a meal I might actually eat in order for Ryan to have some seafood paella. With risotto and paella dishes throughout Italy and Spain, we always found that at least two people have to order for them to make it. I don’t particularly like eating meals with bright orange crustaceans involved, but I gave in and tried to eat some of the rice. Unable to get a bite without bright orange antennae stuck in my fork, I gave up and let Ryan enjoy his meal. After an hour or so exploring the little beaches, we hopped on the tour van back to Barcelona and ended the night in a cool little beer bar called CocoVail. I had some stellar tacos and sangria, while Ryan tried out some local brews and filled up on chicken wings.

How I feel about meals involving exoskeletons

Cool street art

Tuesday, our last day in town, was all about Gaudi. But first, breakfast. We went to a place called Brunch & Cake and pancakes will never be the same. I had green tea matcha pancakes with a strawberry syrup and Ryan had a waffle topped with scrambled eggs and gravy. Glorious. Then we headed to Barcelona’s top attraction, La Sagrada Familia.

Yes, we take photos of our food. 

The basilica has been under construction for more than a century, with a potential completion date of 2026. Gaudi was one of many architects to work on the church, and he died in a tram accident before it was even a quarter of the way finished. We bought extra tickets to go up one of the finished towers, and we chose the Nativity Tower. It was incredible to see workers meticulously placing tiny mosaic pieces on new construction ten feet away from statues that have been worn down by the weather for more than 100 years. I’ll let photos tell the rest.

Apologies for the photo dump here

After the basilica we headed north for Gaudi 2.0: Park Guell. Gaudi designed this park with another architect for the wealthy residents living on the hill in northern Barcelona. We spent about two hours wandering through the park and hiking behind it before making our way back down the hill.

Inside Park Guell. Gaudi lived in the house on the left for a bit. 

The entrance to Park Guell

With about two hours until we had to be at the airport, I insisted we hit up Las Ramblas again, so that I could have a second serving of that lavender coconut ice cream. The ice cream shop, called Rocambolesc, had two locations, and I wasn’t going to pass it up. We got our ice cream and strolled back to our hotel to grab our bags and head back home.

Gelato 2.0 to wrap up a wonderful trip

[newsfundastuff]

IDLIB, Syria -- Before the war in Syria, Idlib city, with its tree-lined avenues and white-stone buildings, was known for its calm, provincial air.Today it overflows with families who fled the war in other parts of Syria, swelling the population to nearly 1 million people.Some shelter in bombed-out buildings. Those who can't find shelter are camped in the soccer stadium, and more line up outside for food handouts.Residents are so used to the shelling that no one even flinches at the sound of an explosion.But for Syria's last rebel-held city the worst is yet to come.To the north, nearly 1 million people are living along roadsides and in olive groves in what is already one of the worst humanitarian disasters of Syria's brutal nine-year war.To the south and east, Syrian government forces backed by Russian warplanes are closing in, now just 5 miles away. When they reach Idlib city, its million residents are likely to flee, doubling the number of displaced people in the north.Dr. Hikmat al-Khatib, an orthopedic surgeon, urged his parents to move to a town to the north. But when it was bombed his mother decided to stay put."Her words shocked me," al-Khatib said. "The only choice is to wait for death."I made a rare visit into Idlib with a photographer and interpreter on Wednesday, crossing the border from Turkey. We were accompanied by relief workers of a Syrian charity and members of a jihadist rebel group, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, which controls the province.We found 100 families camped in the stadium, which has been converted into an emergency shelter.Amina Sahloul was sitting on the floor around a stove in a large underground room for women and children. She had arrived hours earlier, after fleeing her village in the dead of night, clinging with her five grandchildren behind her son on a single motorcycle."We came away because of the airstrikes," she said. "They started dropping cluster bombs. It was like fire raining in the sky."There has been no letup for the people of Idlib province as the forces of President Bashar Assad of Syria, backed by Russian air power, have smashed their way forward, demolishing towns and villages in the south and east of the province with punishing airstrikes.A cease-fire declared Thursday by Turkey, which backs Syrian opposition forces, and Russia, which backs the Syrian government, seemed to be holding on Friday but few believe it will last. Assad has insisted he will continue his offensive to retake Idlib province, and rebel groups have vowed to resist.At the soccer stadium, as word came across the radio that Russian planes were near, tension rose as people nervously scanned the skies.Earlier that day, when an artillery shell slammed into a nearby neighborhood, few people even looked up. The Syrian government fires rockets all the time.But when Russian planes begin a concerted assault, they use overwhelming force, laying down lines of repressive fire that force people to run for their lives with only minutes to get away."Whenever I hear planes I start running like crazy, I lose my mind," Hassan Yousufi said as he paced angrily around the men's shelter in the stadium. "I lived beside the highway for 45 years. I memorized the Quran and was just biding my own life. My brother was killed. The Russians bombed us."Outside of the stadium, life is on a war footing. The streets are busy with cars and motorcycles and women walk together in the main shopping street, but the city has only two hours of electricity a day and boys sell gasoline in plastic jerrycans on street corners.Idlib province has been free from government control for the length of the war and today is largely controlled by Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, the rebel group. But there were few armed fighters in sight in Idlib city, the provincial capital, on Wednesday.Police officers loyal to the opposition stand guard outside the governor's office and the police station which still bear the scars of fighting from the first days of the revolution.Billboards around the city bear glossy posters of uniformed rebel fighters, calling on people to join the fight."It is your turn to heed the call," reads one. "There is no honor without jihad," urges another, beside a military checkpoint.Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, or HTS, has been designated a terrorist group by the United Nations but recently allowed Western journalists into Idlib in cooperation with Turkey, which has wanted to build international pressure against Russia and Syria.On the front lines to the south and east, the rebels, by their own account, have taken a pounding."In the last one-and-a-half months we had a collapse," said Abu Ahmed Muhammad, an HTS spokesman. But he added that the Syrian government had lost many more soldiers than the opposition had, and had to bring in Iranian-backed fighters to retake the strategic town of Saraqib, which has changed hands several times in the last two weeks.Hours before Russia and Turkey agreed to the cease-fire, he warned that nothing would come of it."Both sides will escalate," he said "We in the HTS factions will never accept to de-escalate because the Russians are on top and they may not agree to a peace settlement."But most of the province's three million people are civilians, and they are desperate for an end to the violence. They cling to the hope that Turkey's growing deployment of troops into the province will stop the onslaught."Anything that makes us feel secure or takes the regime away from us is a very good thing," said Abdul Razzaq, the head of the emergency relief for the Syrian charity, Violet. His teams were still helping people flee villages on the front line and preparing in case of a mass evacuation of the city. "But Idlib city is huge and where to take them?" he said.An hour's drive north of the city, blue and white tents pockmark the rocky hillsides and olive groves of the border area. Camps for thousands of displaced families sprouted up from the early days of the war and over the years have turned into settlements of concrete-block housing, built with foreign assistance.Hundreds of thousands more people have joined them in the last six weeks, pitching tents beside the roads and among the rocky limestone outcrops in a densely crowded strip along the Turkish border. Families are sheltering in mosques and schools, empty stores and factories.Even those are not safe. A woman who gave her name as Umm Abdul fled her village three months ago and took refuge with her family in an old brick factory outside the town of Maaret Misrin. On Monday, she was out picking herbs with two of her children when she heard a sound like birds and looked up to see two missiles tumbling out of the sky toward her."I lay the kids on the ground and covered them with my body," she said. "They say if you lie down you don't get hit by shrapnel."She was knocked unconscious and her 18-month-old daughter was wounded but all three survived.At an emergency shelter near the Turkish border, Alia Abras, 37, pushed forward to speak. "Do you know the meaning of displacement?" she asked. "You are like stray dogs."Rescuers took two-and-a-half hours to dig her and her three children out of the rubble of their home in the town of Ariha a month ago, she said. It was the middle of the night but they were left on the street beside their ruined home because there were others still to be rescued. The whole neighborhood around the main hospital had been hit."We spent two days sitting in the street," she said until Violet's rescue team found them and brought them to the shelter, which houses 45 families in a shopping center in the town of Sarmada."I wish I had died under the ruins and my children with me," she said. "We lost everything my husband and I spent our lives building up. We are at zero."In a camp called Al Nasr, new arrivals have pitched tents just yards from the concrete wall topped with rolls of barbed wire that marks the Turkish border. Some are already building breeze-block houses on a hill facing Turkey.Four families were squeezed into one tent set up on top of the camp sewer. They had no other option, they said. Behind the tent, sewage drained down the hill into a fetid pool."No one else would take it," said Hannah al-Mijan, a farmworker and mother of seven. "We do not have money to build."The family had been displaced twice and without work they had fallen into debt. "We are below zero," she said. Her husband, Muhammad, shushed her, telling her not to shame them.This time they chose to live within 100 yards of the border wall. Were they not scared that this place would also be bombed?Al-Mijan shook her head, and gestured at the hill opposite. "That's Turkey," she said.This article originally appeared in The New York Times.(C) 2020 The New York Times Company

https://ift.tt/2vEqQYy

[orendrasingh]

IDLIB, Syria -- Before the war in Syria, Idlib city, with its tree-lined avenues and white-stone buildings, was known for its calm, provincial air.Today it overflows with families who fled the war in other parts of Syria, swelling the population to nearly 1 million people.Some shelter in bombed-out buildings. Those who can't find shelter are camped in the soccer stadium, and more line up outside for food handouts.Residents are so used to the shelling that no one even flinches at the sound of an explosion.But for Syria's last rebel-held city the worst is yet to come.To the north, nearly 1 million people are living along roadsides and in olive groves in what is already one of the worst humanitarian disasters of Syria's brutal nine-year war.To the south and east, Syrian government forces backed by Russian warplanes are closing in, now just 5 miles away. When they reach Idlib city, its million residents are likely to flee, doubling the number of displaced people in the north.Dr. Hikmat al-Khatib, an orthopedic surgeon, urged his parents to move to a town to the north. But when it was bombed his mother decided to stay put."Her words shocked me," al-Khatib said. "The only choice is to wait for death."I made a rare visit into Idlib with a photographer and interpreter on Wednesday, crossing the border from Turkey. We were accompanied by relief workers of a Syrian charity and members of a jihadist rebel group, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, which controls the province.We found 100 families camped in the stadium, which has been converted into an emergency shelter.Amina Sahloul was sitting on the floor around a stove in a large underground room for women and children. She had arrived hours earlier, after fleeing her village in the dead of night, clinging with her five grandchildren behind her son on a single motorcycle."We came away because of the airstrikes," she said. "They started dropping cluster bombs. It was like fire raining in the sky."There has been no letup for the people of Idlib province as the forces of President Bashar Assad of Syria, backed by Russian air power, have smashed their way forward, demolishing towns and villages in the south and east of the province with punishing airstrikes.A cease-fire declared Thursday by Turkey, which backs Syrian opposition forces, and Russia, which backs the Syrian government, seemed to be holding on Friday but few believe it will last. Assad has insisted he will continue his offensive to retake Idlib province, and rebel groups have vowed to resist.At the soccer stadium, as word came across the radio that Russian planes were near, tension rose as people nervously scanned the skies.Earlier that day, when an artillery shell slammed into a nearby neighborhood, few people even looked up. The Syrian government fires rockets all the time.But when Russian planes begin a concerted assault, they use overwhelming force, laying down lines of repressive fire that force people to run for their lives with only minutes to get away."Whenever I hear planes I start running like crazy, I lose my mind," Hassan Yousufi said as he paced angrily around the men's shelter in the stadium. "I lived beside the highway for 45 years. I memorized the Quran and was just biding my own life. My brother was killed. The Russians bombed us."Outside of the stadium, life is on a war footing. The streets are busy with cars and motorcycles and women walk together in the main shopping street, but the city has only two hours of electricity a day and boys sell gasoline in plastic jerrycans on street corners.Idlib province has been free from government control for the length of the war and today is largely controlled by Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, the rebel group. But there were few armed fighters in sight in Idlib city, the provincial capital, on Wednesday.Police officers loyal to the opposition stand guard outside the governor's office and the police station which still bear the scars of fighting from the first days of the revolution.Billboards around the city bear glossy posters of uniformed rebel fighters, calling on people to join the fight."It is your turn to heed the call," reads one. "There is no honor without jihad," urges another, beside a military checkpoint.Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, or HTS, has been designated a terrorist group by the United Nations but recently allowed Western journalists into Idlib in cooperation with Turkey, which has wanted to build international pressure against Russia and Syria.On the front lines to the south and east, the rebels, by their own account, have taken a pounding."In the last one-and-a-half months we had a collapse," said Abu Ahmed Muhammad, an HTS spokesman. But he added that the Syrian government had lost many more soldiers than the opposition had, and had to bring in Iranian-backed fighters to retake the strategic town of Saraqib, which has changed hands several times in the last two weeks.Hours before Russia and Turkey agreed to the cease-fire, he warned that nothing would come of it."Both sides will escalate," he said "We in the HTS factions will never accept to de-escalate because the Russians are on top and they may not agree to a peace settlement."But most of the province's three million people are civilians, and they are desperate for an end to the violence. They cling to the hope that Turkey's growing deployment of troops into the province will stop the onslaught."Anything that makes us feel secure or takes the regime away from us is a very good thing," said Abdul Razzaq, the head of the emergency relief for the Syrian charity, Violet. His teams were still helping people flee villages on the front line and preparing in case of a mass evacuation of the city. "But Idlib city is huge and where to take them?" he said.An hour's drive north of the city, blue and white tents pockmark the rocky hillsides and olive groves of the border area. Camps for thousands of displaced families sprouted up from the early days of the war and over the years have turned into settlements of concrete-block housing, built with foreign assistance.Hundreds of thousands more people have joined them in the last six weeks, pitching tents beside the roads and among the rocky limestone outcrops in a densely crowded strip along the Turkish border. Families are sheltering in mosques and schools, empty stores and factories.Even those are not safe. A woman who gave her name as Umm Abdul fled her village three months ago and took refuge with her family in an old brick factory outside the town of Maaret Misrin. On Monday, she was out picking herbs with two of her children when she heard a sound like birds and looked up to see two missiles tumbling out of the sky toward her."I lay the kids on the ground and covered them with my body," she said. "They say if you lie down you don't get hit by shrapnel."She was knocked unconscious and her 18-month-old daughter was wounded but all three survived.At an emergency shelter near the Turkish border, Alia Abras, 37, pushed forward to speak. "Do you know the meaning of displacement?" she asked. "You are like stray dogs."Rescuers took two-and-a-half hours to dig her and her three children out of the rubble of their home in the town of Ariha a month ago, she said. It was the middle of the night but they were left on the street beside their ruined home because there were others still to be rescued. The whole neighborhood around the main hospital had been hit."We spent two days sitting in the street," she said until Violet's rescue team found them and brought them to the shelter, which houses 45 families in a shopping center in the town of Sarmada."I wish I had died under the ruins and my children with me," she said. "We lost everything my husband and I spent our lives building up. We are at zero."In a camp called Al Nasr, new arrivals have pitched tents just yards from the concrete wall topped with rolls of barbed wire that marks the Turkish border. Some are already building breeze-block houses on a hill facing Turkey.Four families were squeezed into one tent set up on top of the camp sewer. They had no other option, they said. Behind the tent, sewage drained down the hill into a fetid pool."No one else would take it," said Hannah al-Mijan, a farmworker and mother of seven. "We do not have money to build."The family had been displaced twice and without work they had fallen into debt. "We are below zero," she said. Her husband, Muhammad, shushed her, telling her not to shame them.This time they chose to live within 100 yards of the border wall. Were they not scared that this place would also be bombed?Al-Mijan shook her head, and gestured at the hill opposite. "That's Turkey," she said.This article originally appeared in The New York Times.(C) 2020 The New York Times Company

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