#my ma the seamstress would be proud

[ace--of--swords]

1:6 scale Dia doll clothing and accessories brainstorm.

[toussainttwins]

@fallesto || x "Oh, that very one Geralt of Rivia from The Wolven Storm by Dandelion? The beloved of the raven-haired sorceress! A witcher who can love!" the petite succubus' eyes grew wider and some colour returned to her cheeks.

Oh, to meet the white wolf from the songs. It was scary, indeed, but also very, very adventurous. Of course, she would never seek a meeting with a witcher, even if he was a main protagonist of many a charming, daring ballad that often made her sister weep sweet tears of sympathy...why, they positively trembled when Geralt of Rivia visited Beauclair for the last time, cooked up in the Dreamveil like two frightened lambs before a real wolf... Oh, Nistana would be so jealous she ran into the hero of her favourite songs! She wished her lambkin was here. Then her shiny, tired hoofs would not tremble so. Nistana would devise a plan how to slip away, smooth as a song itself... "Of course Her Grace is kind and understanding! As a matter of fact she is my customer." Natanis stopped in her tracks, heedlessly dragging a witcher to stop too as only her delicate horned sisters with a muscles of iron could. And raised her curly head very high. "I am letting you know, master Geralt, that it was my shop The Dreamveil where our beautious Royal Sangbonbon has been ordering her attire for the Festival of the Vat...for the last several years!" the proud succubus' horns almost scratched Geralt's chin.

"As for my other clients and sangbonbons no one would wish me harm. My costumes are as much beloved as I am," to prove her point she dusted off her gown busily and made a little spin, showing off her smart travelling cape, embroidered with stars and constellations and her voluminous skirt, studded with tiny bells. It hid her tail and hoofs well and she was careful not to flash them before a witcher. Then she gasped and made a little bow. "Ah, I am terribly sorry! I have not introduced myself, the terror has drained all my manner from me! I am Natanis of Beauclair, the seamstress. You have certainly heard of my modest shop," Natanis said with amiable immodesty. She was hoping the cat-like eyes could see all the details of her painstakingly made travelling costume. A compliment was a compliment, wheither it came for a witcher or not. And ah, the fright made her ravenous. "Thusly, you see. There must be some mistake. The Duchess loves me well, but...there was no reason for her to place a contract for a succubus, even if it's a contract to keep me safe, which is very dear indeed! She would rather send for her seamstress."

"Are you positive you found a right damsel, sangbonbon? I am not complaining. I...oh, my very horns are risking to fall off when I think what those ruffians were after..." the silvery voice faltered and the petite succubus stopped abruptly, like an automaton doll whose cogs lost its power. She shuddered again and covered her horned head with her hood with extra care, not seeking an admiring glance that time.

"They...they took my little dryad's embrace satchel." the only reason why they didn't take her chatelain from her waist was that it got caught in her dress. It was probably a mere matter of time...thinking of it made a sour taste, cold and nauseating raise up Natanis' throat. So loathsome the feeling was that she was ready to dash into the white wolf's arms on her own accord that time. "And I am...I am frightened... to go to the cart and get it. Could you possibly bring it to me, mas...Geralt?"

[sidhewrites]

Chapter 1A. Previous Installment found here. It’s really difficult to stick to my “write now edit later” rule, because I don’t think I’ve found Bette’s voice quite yet, but I’ll get there. Approx. 1400 words. As always, feel free to ask any questions you might have about anything.

None of us can eat. Ma had set the table, cooked stew and kept it hot over the hearth. We sat together, looking anywhere but at each other. The empty chair stres us down, mocking us as it undid our frayed nerves every minute that went by. Even Skau had stopped his incessant meowing to sit at the door, waiting.

Tamber will be home soon with Sam, wide-eyed and bony and bragging about how she wasn’t the least bit afraid, even when the mountain’s shadow overtook the forest completely. Indirect sunlight still harms trolls, but they grow bold when young girls wandered the forest. I look up at Naza, her eyes on the window, fingers tracing the long jagged scars across her face and neck.

We know the dangers of the wood. I don’t have to look outside to know what she sees.

Da’s own willow wight soul still bears his old face. He stands at the edges of our grounds even now, sightless eyes watching us from just beyond our borders, wondering when we might open up the gate for him and let him come home.

Ours is the last house before the treeline, the only one with a cold iron fence all the way around, woven through with rock willow and silver bells that chatted amongst themselves in the slightest breeze. It’s a beautiful sound -- a human sound, coming from a human fence. No troll can stand hearing it, and none came near. But spirits can. They wander in the moonlight, green orbs and shapeless blue lights dancing here and there, cowering from them just as we do.

“Thinking about what it would be like for Sofi to finally kiss you?” I ask. My voice is strained.

She doesn’t answer.

“Naza?”

Any other time, the mere mention of Sofi was enough to turn her bright red. Sofi isn’t beautiful. But she’s always been funnier than the both of us combined. Naza never stood a chance.

“Mmhm. Sure.”

What else can I say? We can’t do anything but wait here and imagine the worst. I never sit still for more than a minute, and even then I can’t make myself do more than braid and rebraid my hair, brushing out soot and iron filings, wondering if Tamber’s own knots would hold up in the woods as well. Wondering if it would be enough.

We are mourning a girl who isn’t dead.

Not yet, at least.

Not yet, I hope.

I reach across the table and pull her hand from her face. She flinches, but lets me, squeezing tight. The wounds are nearly eight years old now, but she still has bad nights every now and then. “There’s still an hour before sundown, and we double-knotted her braids. They won’t be coming loose until we take them out ourselves.”

She’s the best out of all of us, having practised different plaits on me since she could work hair, and the plaits spilling down her back, woven together and secured with an iron pin, would have impressed even the old hedgewitch by the sea. Trolls couldn’t stand anything made by human hands, the legends say. It’s not entirely true, but knots seem to be

“And she’s with Sam,” I add, trying to sound more reassuring than hopeful. “No-one knows the woods better than Sam.”

Naza’s smile looks as false as I’m sure mine does. No-one knew the woods better than our father either, once upon a time.

I squeeze her hand again.

Someone bangs on the door, tearing us all from our thoughts, sending Skau fleeing to the shadows. Ma’s halfway there by the time Naza and I are out of our chairs, and nearly tears it off its hinges. I can barely breathe when I see Sam outside, red hair falling from its plait, eyes wide, pale as snow.

Alone.

“Tamber’s caught in a trap. I can’t get it open.”

Ma’s knees go weak, and she leans heavily on the door as Sam struggles to hold her up.. Naza’s frozen in place, and she looks like she might be sick.

My own head is spinning, but I blink away the spots at my vision. “Naza, help Ma to bed and go find Ursula.” My voice sounds so far away. I’m not even sure I’m the one who said it.

“Bette?”

I don’t look at her. I don’t think I could stay standing if I did. I turn away from her instead, and go to the only closed door in our home, forcing the rusted hinges open.

“Bette, what are you --”

“Do what I say.” I don’t mean to shout. But I can feel her eyes on me as I enter the tiny room, filled with tools and old traps, and a map of the woods that won’t ever be finished, and a shining set of iron tools on the old work table. Our nisse had always loved Da best.

I take the largest axe, more weapon than tool, heavy in my hands. Powerful. Its little bells jingle on their strings, hanging from the leather grip, and I find myself hoping it’s too blunt for a clean slice.

Ma’s struggling against Naza and Sam both, demanding she go out herself. But she’s a seamstress with weak knees. Naza has been a fisher for years, and with Sam on her side, there’s no fight to be had.

I don’t spare her any time, and pull my boots on instead, wrapping the straps tightly. “You’re not leaving this house,” I say, still harsher than I mean to sound. There’s a snarl in my throat -- not at her, but at the images in my head, pictures of what might become of Tamber if we waste anymore time fighting. What might have happened already.

“We’ll get her back, Ma,” Naza cooes, softly, but weakly. Her voice shakes. Her hands do, too.

Ma cries out again, but stumbles, and Naza sweeps her into the bedroom.

I pull Sam back by the arm before there’s a chance for Ma to recover and push the door closed. “Where’s your hatchet?”

He hesitates, looking towards the bedroom. “I left it with her.”

I run back to Da’s old room for a hatchet, ignoring the mud I’m tracking with me as I go, and shove one into his hands. “Let’s go.”

Sam hesitates again. “What about Naza?”

I know. I’m afraid, too. She gets quiet when she’s afraid, but it won’t stop her from running in to tamber. “We don’t have time.” Not to wait for her to finish with Ma, and certainly not to wait for Sam to finish worrying. I grab his arm again and pull him with me, and we both make for the door.

“Bette!” Naza calls from the door.

“I told you--” I turn to see her coming towards me with my coat.

“It gets cold at night.”

I didn’t even think of that. Likely disturbed our Nisse’s nest, I realize now that I was starting to think. Still, I take the coat and lay a hand against her cheek, trying not to look at the long lines of pale skin on her face. The troll had only just barely missed one of her eyes all those years ago. I had never forgotten the sight of her torn up and bloody. And I wouldn’t let the forest hurt her again.

“I--” She begins.

“Go get Ursula,” I say again.

“You come home. All three of you.”

I try to grin.  “I don’t know what you’re worrying about. I’m ugly enough to be a troll’s wife, remember?”

Her own smile is weak, but she lets me shrug on my coat. She only ever called me that once, but I won’t let her forget it. Everyone knows she’s the prettier one of us two, even if they won’t say it. My sharp features and strong jaw are no match to her softness and sweet smile, but we’re still twins. Any insult to my looks is an insult to hers as well.

“Fly fast,” I say.

“Fly fast,” she returns, and takes off towards Kellu, and the witch’s hut just beyond.

I turn to the woods. Da’s willow wight soul still shimmers at the edge of them, watching soundlessly. I don’t know if he recognises us, but I hope he would be proud of what I’m doing tonight.

[dangantruth-a-blog]

;;

I know its a bit silly but.. I wrote something about the class of 85.

Under read more.

Aida couldn’t remember how she even got here in the first place. Her face hurt, and her glasses were off-- And that was just a bit stupid. The red head moved to ruffle her hair back before she moved to place on her classes. Oh, nice, keyboard dents on her face. That was lovely. She moved to glance around-- Was this really Hopes Peak Academy? People wanted nothing more then to attend this prestigious school so they can have the best sort of future. After all, she was scouted for even breaking past their firewall, and finding some interesting information. Scholarship paid, dorm paid, food paid-- It was supposed to be a easy school year to hone her talents.

Oh, we should probably introduce her, huh?

Aida Robins is the Ultimate Hacker-- She’s able to find any sort of information and break into it. Her family was always surrounded by technology, her mother working for IT, as the same went for her father. She practically grew up on the internet, leaving herself to a more secluded lifestyle-- And Hopes Peak was to change that. She was going to be more social, and have more friends, and more times to just.. Be herself.

Although, waking up in a dorm with computers surrounding her wasn’t the ideal situation. Throwing on her jacket and slightly zipping it up, she left to search for anyone else. . . Though the school seemed very empty as it was. Where was everyone?

“Hello?”

Aida had asked, mostly to.. No one. She wasn't expecting anyone to be here in the first place-- Wait, did she miss class? … Couldn’t she just hack her grades to be higher? Aida had sighed, before moving to continue to look around, hands in pockets, observing the area around her.

It looked like a normal school-- A cafetira, and it seemed like a few people were there by the sounds of it. She walked inside to then hug the wall slightly, keeping her observance.

A girl with pink hair was waving a spoon at a large fellow with glasses and.. Seemingly having a hat with a very, very cute ghost embroidered on it. The pink haired chef meanwhile seemed frustrated--

“You! You can’t eat the food I’m trying to prep for everyone! Honestly, what would the chef think if he caught you!?” Her shrill voice was clearly scolding, but her playful violet eyes was twinkling in amusement-- Oh, this would be funny, right? What a laugh. She then glanced over to notice Aida-- As Aida squawked slightly, wanting to hide.

“You there!”

“Me?”

“Did you eat yet?”

“Uh-- yes?”

Her stomach growl betrayed her. Damnit. Being heard, the girl rushed over, grasped her hand, and promptly sat her down across from the man, as she grumbled, returning to the kitchen. The guy laughed, moving to tilt his head as he remarked. “Seems like you’re already making trouble with Hinata.”

“Hinata..?” Aida asked, glancing towards the kitchen. “Is she the Ultimate Chef?”

“Her? Nah, shes like, the Ultimate Sous Chef or something--” The man remarked, tapping his cheek. “She and I go way back though-- I’m Yasuro Kurokawa, Shes Hinata Kumiko. I’m the Ultimate Paranomal Investigator, and shes a Ultimate Sous chef.”

Aida laughed-- seemingly grinning “Hey, thats a nice mix of talents, huh?” As Yasuro shrugged, remarking “It is when you can see ghosts--”

And Aida just stared at him, flatly, before remarking “Ghost aren’t real though.”

Yasuro scoffed, slamming his hand on the table as he remarked “I see ghost everywhere! Don’t mock the dead like this, chi-- Say, whats your name?”

Aida quickly introduced herself.

“Aida Robins-- Huh, weird name. Regardless! The dead and ghosts are everywhere, ‘ya hear?! And I’m here to solve how they died so they go to rest, and leave mortals like us alone.” Yasuro leaned back, giving a proud look, as Aida paused, before remarking “So, like.. A detective thats solving the murders.. By talking to ghosts!” She snickered, her tone a bit sarcastic.

“Yeah!” Yasuro smiled, giving a firm nod, before pausing, remarking. “...I’m not liking ‘yer tone at all, Aida.”

Aida gave a laugh, before musing as Hinata walked out, offering food-- It seemingly looked like okay meal of Hawainn chicken sandwiches, so, while they ate, Hinata and Yasuro were talking about the situation they were in, as Aida listened in.

It seemed they were trapped-- But thats strange. Not to mention they were only allowed to the first floor of the Academy, which were the dorms, and outside of it-- No students were around, nor teachers or anything like that. Aida thanked Hinata for the meal, and quickly stood up, deciding to leave and continue her search outside-- What made them so trapped, huh?

Once she left through those doors, that’s when it hit her, so to say.

The scenes around the school was gone, and a blue sky only met them.  Were they.. Floating? In the air none the less, and-- It seemed by the shine from the sun itself, they were trapped in a dome like area. No escape. Even if they did, how could they? One jump, they’d just die, wouldn’t they?

“Hey, calm down!”

A voice broke Aida from her thoughts, as she glanced over-- A girl in pink pigtails, and quite a glare on her appeared to catch her from falling--Ah, she was falling? Wonderful-- As she gave a loud sigh.

“Honestly, if you’re gonna faint, do it elsewhere.”

“Huh?”

“I mean.. Cement hurts.” The girl pointed out. The others near her seemed worried, as the woman introduced herself.

“Koroko Shun, the Ultimate Seamstress-- The guy over there.” She motioned over to a tall boy with dark hair, and baby blue eyes. “Guipeng Xiao Shin. He has a bit of Amnesia..”

“Amnesia?” Aida asked, as Guipeng shrugged, and smiled, remarking earnestly-- “I can’t remember a damn thing! About my talent that is.” Guipeng scratched his chin, as he remarked “All I know is, Hopes Peak wanted me to attend for some reason, and I left my ‘ma and dad to attend.” After Aida introduced herself to everyone, Koroko remarked. “The dome surrounds the wall of the land-- It’s like a complete circle. Theres tiny holes in it though, so.. We still have airflow though, but..”

“No escape.” Aida remarked, looking pale as Koroko huffed “Hey, breathe. Seven seconds in, eight seconds out, okay?”

Aida breathed in, and out with ease, before looking aside. What the hell could this mean? Koroko glanced to Guipeng as she remarked.

“Anyway, Amnesiac, if you can like gather everyone to the dining hall, we should try and get everyone introduced.”

Guipeng nodded, before scratching his chin, his gaze moving aside as he remarked “With Aida waking up, we have about.. Sixteen students in whole.” He frowned, his brow even furrowed a bit as Koroko arched a brow, as she barked out “Does that really matter now!? Get a move on!” and Guipeng flinched and rushed out, as Koroko moved to keep Aida supported, remarking “Most of them left outside to see if theres anywhere else we can head in and out from.” Koroko was taking her back to the kitchen, as the Seamstress remarks sadly-- “But we’re floating in air. Like, we’re flying! How weird is that, right?”

Aida grew pale, as Koroko continued.

“But, we’ll gather everyone and talk about what we can do from here, okay?” Koroko rubbed her back as she sat down, Aida giving a worried look. This.. This felt bad for some reason. Why did it feel so bad..?

Once everyone entered and sat down, and Hinata too, it was down the line from there for introductions. Aida tried to listen in, even if the situation they were in was stuck on her mind.

A sniper spoke up first-- And she was dressed weird. Just a bikini? Had she no shame? She gave a smile as she crossed her arms, remarking with a wink. “Names Fumiko Hana, Ultimate Sniper. My shot never misses, okay?” She then eyed Yasuro, who really was eyeing her, as she then gave a remark. “And let me remind you, no matter how small your object is, I can shoot it down. Understand?”

Yasuro gulped, and gave a nod. Welp.

“But.. Why the Bikini, Fumiko?” Aida had to ask. “Isn’t it.. Kind of a bad thing?”

“Not really.. I am more dressed when on duty, I just like the thought of being able to wear one whenever I want.” Fumiko remarked, giving a grin. “I mean, guys run around shirtless all the time, why can’t I wear a bikini when I’m dressing casual, huh? Sides, i’m wearing pants.”

Uh huh. Aida thought, and decided to continue down the line.

A girl with blue hair, bags under her eyes, and a glare that went on for miles decided to speak up, remarking firmly.

“Taro Ryou-- Ultimate Weather Forecaster.”

Yasuro looked delighted at this, remarking with ease “So, are your predictions correct all the time!?” He bounced, clapping his hands a bit as Taro offered him quite a dark, horrid deathglare, remarking firmly.

“They’ll always be right, no matter the circumstances. But who asked you to talk, pig?”

“P-pig?!” Yasuro squealed, as Aida remarked, huffing--

“H-hey, thats a bit much, isn’t it?”

“Shut up, neet.” Taro snarled out her response, as Aida just huffed and rolled her eyes-- Man, she was a bitch.. Regardless, there was still more people to meet, wounded pride and Yasuro’s blush aside.

Someone who looked just as tired as Aida felt raised his hand-- Dark red hair, red stubble, and a smile for miles-

“Yo, Haru Noburu, the Ultimate--”

But before he could finish, Aida declared

“No way-- The Ultimate Lets player?! Your channel is the Noburuists! You write theories and do lets plays!” Aida declared, giving a happy look as Haru laughed, and rubbed the back of his head, glancing aside.

“Ahaha, yeah-- I do that. That’s my talent. I like entertaining my audience, so to say--”

Haru looked a bit awkward as Aida wanted to continue questioning, but Yasuro gently dragged her away to continue socializing.

A more timid boy glanced aside, blushing-- Soft blonde hair, dark amber eyes, Aida remarked that this boy was really, really cute to herself, as she heard his introduction.

“Yuudai Shin-Shinobu.. I go by Yuudai first since.. Someone else here is named Shinobu..” He stuttered out, playing with his hat a bit, as Yasuro remarked “This guy here is a Ultimate Gunsmith. He can smith any sort of guns! He actually makes quite a business with others for it, gun laws or not.”

“Ah, he’s into crime?” Aida motioned over to Yuudai, as Yuudai remarked--

“I-I am not! Military deals aren’t war crimes! ..I just make sure the soldiers get the best weapons.. Fumiko even uses one of my brand of weapons.” He glanced aside, before saying “S-so, don’t spread rumors about me being involved with the Yakuza! Do I look like a crazed man with a eyepatch!?”

That.. was a bit specific, Yuudai. Aida thought to herself, before leading herself down to continue to introduce herself to everyone.

A girl with fluffy pink hair and a gentle smile waved at Aida and Yasuro, motioning them over. Although she was taking pictures of the view outside, she did seem to want to talk to them. Yasuro remarked “Thats Yue Momoko-- She’s the Ultimate Scenic Photographer. She never takes photos of people for some reason..”

“Huh? Whys that?” Aida wondered to herself, scratching her chin. It was a bit weird, in all honesty, but Yue spoke after she took the picture.

“Because natures beautiful without us in the picture.” Yue then gave a chuckle, remarking. “Sorry.. That sounded a bit dark. I just like natural shots, and ..well, just nature in itself. People are people, but nature is.. Well, nature. Beautiful, untamed, and wonderful.” Yue gave a laugh, stroking her hair back as she mused. “I’m glad to meet you two.”

Aida grimaced-- Ah, a nature freak, huh? Thats … uh.. Nice..?

Regardless they moved on to continue introducing themselves.

A very authentic shrine maiden was praying to herself, although her hair was cut short, and her outfit did seem a bit too formal. Aida tried to get her attention, but Yasuro moved to stop her, whispering-- “Rina Haru-- You don’t bother her while praying. She may not be able to see you-- But she can, and will kick your butt all the way to the spirit realm if you bother her.”

“Ah-- Wait-- she’s blind!?” Aida whispered back, a bit bothered, as Yasuro nodded, remarking in his own hushed whisper. “She was orphaned, and found blind. She takes care of duties as a shrine maiden alongside the women that raised her-- Her religion, is her duty. Nothing else should interfere. Shes a stickler for this.”

“..I may be blind, but I am not deaf.”

Dull green eyes met Aida’s, as Rina gave a smile, reaching her hand out as Aida grasped it. Rina shook Aida’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you-- I have heard a lot from the others you were introduced too. I pray you come to talk to me more.”

Aida gave a grimace, before smiling a bit. “Suuuuure.” Before moving her hand out and away towards the next person-- who looked oddly like a very… very pretty girl.

Yasuro was hooked already, seemingly grasping her hand as he remarked-- “Ah, it’s a pleasue to meet you! Say, do you have a cellphone, my number is--”

“Oh my--!” The girl literally shoved Yasuro aside to rush up to Aida, hugging her tightly as she mused “Look at you! You’re so cute and tiny, I could LITERALLY just eat you the hell up-- You know, if I was into cannibalism.”

“Ah--”

Aida gave a squawk, pulling herself away-- Yumiko smiled, as she winked, introducing herself. In her soft, yet feminine tone, she remarked earnestly--

“I’m the Ultimate Drag queen.”

“S-Say what!?” Yasuro, who just got up, fell back down. Quite a manly chortle escaped the girl, as he remarked.

“My names Ken Rokuro-- Yumiko Misaki is just my stage name.” He grins, crossing his arms as he mused. “I had you fooled for a minute, my dude. You gotta have a better eye for that sort of thing-- But yeah! I’ve done shows, cosplays, anything girly, I wanted my hands on.”

Aida was amused, and a bit intrigued by this-- “So, what began your love for it?”

“My girlfriend decided to dress me up.” Yasuros jaw dropped, as he gave a defeated sort of sigh. Ken laughed, as he mused. “Mhm, she was fascinated by a girly sort of anime-- A magical girl one, and thought I looked like one of the girls on there. Crossplay is common in cosplay, so, I dressed up and we took pictures to post on the internet-- Wild story. But, eh-- Enough about me. You, cutie pie, got lots more to see.”

Ken nudged Aida and a heartbroken Yasuro away, as Aida mused “I like him.”

“I..I bet you do Aida.” Yasuros brow furrowed, a disheveled whine coming from him. Meanwhile, observant eyes watched them, as the man before them gave a smile, remarking.

“Hello-- You, stand up straight!” He barked, as Yasuro and Aida stood firm. Tomomi smiled, clasping his hands as he remarked “I’m Tomomi Kenji, the Ultimate Drill Sergeant.”

Aida scratched her chin, remarking with ease “So you deal with.. Army stuff.”

“I mostly train civilians to be able to handle the strife and negitivity of army life, yes.” Tomomi reported, before musing. “Although, I have seen war myself a few times..”

“Y-You have!?” Aida looked surprised-- he did seem a bit scrany from the war types. Tomomi pointed to a obvious scar on his face, remarking.

“This was given to me in the heat of battle. Leading my men was hard, and this hurt.. But I held hope for a happier ending. And I got one, I was able to attend this academy!”

Aida smiled-- That was amazing, truly …! He seemed quite brave after everything.

“Regardless.. I hope our endevors together can solve such a .. circumstance were in.” Tomomi sighed, before musing. “Run along you two! You have plenty more to meet , right!?”

Aida nodded, saying “Thanks Tomomi~san.. I’ll see you around.”

And they left to be introduced to the others.

Yasuro squealed first-- “Holy shit, thats-- Thats the idol of that group, Hurricane!”

Aida glanced over to Yasuro, remarking “You listen to male idol pop groups?”

Yasuro huffed, placing a hand on his hip. “I can, and do. They attract ghosts really well, and I can jam out to whatever I please, shortie.”

...Shortie? Aida glared, as Minato remarked.

“I see one of you hears my music.” He gave a laugh, moving his green hair aside, as his playful gaze looks over the two. “Although, he is right-- I’m the head idol in the group Hurricane. We’ve been rising to the top and rivaling other girl bands that are heard of..”

“Most of Minato Kyouis money heads to charity.” Yasuro squealed out, seemingly squirming in delight. Minato nodded, musing.

“I am already living a life I’ve always wanted-- Why would I ever need so much money to boot?”

Aida smiled, musing “You’re a good guy Minato. Maybe i’ll actually buy your music instead of pirate it.”

Minato huffed, rolling his eyes “The industry does bite peoples ass for it-- I say if you like music, do what you want with it. Pirate, buy, even have a poster of my group for it.”

Yasuro glanced aside, slightly sweating at that. Aida gave a giggle, musing, as the girl walked up-- Glaring slightly.

“..As much as I hate my talent, I gotta say, Yasuro has a crush on you.” The girl reported, as Minato laughed, musing “Does he now?”

“I-IDONOTSHUTUPSHINOBU--”

“Shinobu?” Aida asked, as the girl gave a laugh and sneered “Heh! Ultimate Matchmaker.” She rolled her eyes. “For the idiots that believe in that happily ever after bullshit.. Thats my job, telling them their prince, or princess, or some horseshit. Ugh..” Shinobu rolled her eyes and left the conversation, as Minato remarked “You must forgive her- Shes not quite.. Proud of her talent. She has set up my band members before with their wives, or husband.” He chuckled, before glancing at Yasuro, teasing “I suppose you’ll say no to a wedding?”

“A-a-a-a-a-a-a...A wedding?” Yasuro’s eyes brighten, as Aida grasps him by the ear, looking to their last student.

Blonde hair, soft eyes, and seemingly a soft attitude. He was looking suspiciously at others, possibly assuming on who, or what they are, but when his eyes went to Aida’s, he relaxed as she dragged Yasuro over. He introduced, with a slight twang.

“ ‘My names Ashton Wilkes. Most folks call me Ash though.” Ash offered a smile, as Aida asked “Do you.. Have a talent, Ash?”

Ash frowns, before musing. “It ain’t impressive.. But Ultimate Ambassador. I’m originally from the Americas you see, down south. I just had to do my own thing to learn multiple languages and travel. Nothin’ too fancy like hacking and.. Ghost hunting?” He snickered as Yasuro huffed, almost getting into his rant before Aida covered his mouth.

“Regardless, I’m a bit worried-- Lotta folks here are a bit calm, too calm about this circumstance were in.”

Yeah, Aida nodded, it seemed like it was a bit too much for her to handle.. She nearly fainted. Ashton gently places a hand on her shoulder, remarking.

“Keep a careful watch, ‘kay, Aida?”

But before she could remark, something appeared on weird, tv like monitors--

“Puhuhu~! Greetings, ‘ya ingrates! If you’re hearing the delightful sounds of my voice, it’s high time we get a move on to the main event, right?”

Everyone was beginning to question, hushed murmurs fell before the crowds as the voice continued, earnestly.

“Meet me at the Gym for the main event, bahahah!~”

And the monitor went off, keeping everyone confused as they rushed towards the gym-- But Aida , walking slowly, and by herself had to wonder.

What use would someone have with 16 students in this game be..?

[thehooliganhangoutspot]

In this unpublished 2011 interview, the pop superstar’s late mother, Bernadette Bayot Hernandez, reveals how she raised six kids, one of them a Grammy winner, and how going back to their Filipino roots made them even closer

By: Tatin Yang - @inquirerdotnet Philippine Daily Inquirer / 12:06 AM March 12, 2014

The first time Bruno Mars performed here was in April 2011. Watching the Grammy-winning singer-songwriter thrill the crowds in Manila and Cebu were his Filipino mother Bernadette “Bernie” Bayot Hernandez, his sister Jaime and other family members.

Inquirer Lifestyle had the opportunity to interview Bernie about raising her children in Hawaii with Filipino values, working hard to make sure her kids’ dreams were realized, and making peace with tattoos.

She and Bruno were obviously very close, from the way she talked about him. When he lit up his first electronic cigarette, he tweeted that he was quitting the real thing for his mom.

She was the first girl he wrote a song about; his first composition, “I Love You Mom,” was recorded when he was only 4 years old, with lyrics that go, “My mommy helps me with my voice/ ’Cause a superstar singer is my first choice/ I love you, Mom, you are my favorite girl/ I love you, Mom, you’ll always be my favorite girl.”

In June last year, Bernie unexpectedly died of a brain aneurysm; she was only 55. When Bruno received another Grammy for Best Pop Vocal Album for “Unorthodox Jukebox” two months ago, he dedicated his win to his mom: “Ma, I know you’re watching, I hope you’re smiling, I love you.”

Below is the unpublished interview with Bernie, along with her daughter Jaime:

At first glance, Bernadette Bayot Hernandez is your typical Filipino mom. Her bag is bursting with knick-knacks and family photos, complete with a big bag of pastillas as her baon, which she presses into my hand and insists that I try. Facebook confounds her, and she calls her daughter when she needs a photo e-mailed or when she wants to see her Facebook account, which her kids made for her.

She was horrified when her son got a tattoo, and occasionally begs him to stop adding tattoos to his body. It’s a scene we’ve encountered with our own moms, except that Bernie’s tattoo-happy son also happens to be Bruno Mars.

Tell us how you ended up in the US.

Bernie: We’re a big family. I have six brothers, and my mom was worried about us growing up, especially since my dad was the only one supporting us. My grandmother was a US citizen; she petitioned for us to join her… We were on our way to San Francisco to be with her, but had a stopover in Hawaii. It reminded us so much of the Philippines that we never made it to San Francisco. This was in 1968. I was 10 years old then.

How did you end up back here? Is this your first time to be home?

I was here 15 years ago. When Philippine Airlines was asked to be a sponsor for Bruno, Vivienne Tan, PAL’s EVP, knew that we were Filipino-Americans and wanted us to be the first family to be brought in under her pet project. She had people search for a way to get in touch with us, and my brother, John Valentine, who is also an artist, had a website, and they got in touch with him to ask if they could sponsor our family to fly back under this project.

What is this project about?

THE BAYOT family entertain the kids along with DSWD. Their charity work is a partnership with Philippine Airlines’ initiative to encourage Filipino-Americans to come home, reconnect and give back.

It’s PAL’s new drive to bring back Filipino-American families to come visit, get in touch with their roots, and maybe check and see if there’s anything they can do to give back to the country. When we were invited, I was really excited and grateful. I even told them my dad was an employee of Philippine Airlines before we moved to Hawaii, and they were surprised.

PAL flew nine of us—myself, my mom, my brothers John, Lawrence, Douglas, Christopher, John and Franklin, and my daughter Jaime. It was really generous of PAL; I can’t thank them enough.

What places have you visited so far?

My whole family and I were invited by (Cebu) Gov. Gwen Garcia to perform for the inmates at the Cebu Penitentiary; we all sang for them, which they enjoyed since it’s always [been] them doing the entertaining. My brother John even wanted me to do the hula, and I said he was out of his mind!

So your whole family is into music?

Yes, our whole family! My dad was a singer, my mom a dancer, so we really got all that talent. My dad used to sing to us when we were little. All my kids sing. All my brothers sing.

Every time we get together, there’s always music, that’s why when karaoke came along, which was also around the time Bruno was born, he had to fight for that mic. At age two, he just wanted that microphone, always.

Were you the one who taught Bruno how to sing?

I don’t know if we taught him exactly, but he was always surrounded by music. So it was automatic for him. Bruno, I knew he was special the moment he was born. I would like to say that he came out of me holding a mic, but of course that wasn’t the case! But he was singing even before he started talking.

I bought him a piano when he was just two, and he went on the piano and just started playing tunes, not just banging on it, but he’d play actual tunes!

He started performing professionally at four, he’d be onstage five nights a week with our group—Bruno was the cherry on the cake, he was our finale.

He’d impersonate Elvis, and Priscilla Presley actually hired him to open for a tribute to Elvis in Memphis. Elvis’ estate rarely gets impersonators but when they saw Bruno, they got him to open for the event. They paid for everything and gave us a tour of the house.

We hear Bruno has a tattoo of your name on his arm. Tell us more about it.

When he was a kid, he was afraid of needles, but when he moved to LA, I didn’t know all these tattoos were happening. When I saw my son, I was all, “Why did you do that? Please, Bruno, don’t put any more tattoos, you have such beautiful skin, why are you gonna ruin it?”

And then he lifts up his sleeve and says “Aw, but what about this?” It was my name, and it was the full name, that’s long! And I said, “Well, okay, that one’s all right.”

What changes has fame brought to your lives?

It hasn’t changed our hearts, but the attention takes a little getting used to. I still work, but many people drop by the house, and it gets busy, and they’d ask me, “Why are you still working?” And I’d reply, “Well, what do you want me to do?” We’re all the same.

So you still work?

Yes. That’s all I’ve been doing all of my life. This is the first time that I’m actually not working, because of Bruno. He keeps telling me to relax, so I’m here, just enjoying it.

What was it like raising six kids by yourself?

It was tough, but I did it. I was a single mom. I cleaned houses—everything—just to make it work. I sewed, sold paintings. I don’t know how I managed it, to tell you the truth.

How did you feel when Bruno won his first Grammy?

I was there at the Grammys and he was nominated for seven awards, and he won the one I wanted him to win. It was kinda surreal, we couldn’t believe it. After he performed that night, he received a standing ovation, and to see that, that was incredible. Is that my son? I can’t believe it.

You mentioned a charity that you had. What is it about?

Jaime: We started an organization called m.a.m.a earth—the mama stands for Mothers About Making Amends.

We like to focus on grassroots organizations that need help, like the last one we did for Haiti where we helped set up a birthing center and installed a water system that lets them operate 24 hours. We want to be able to tell our donors where their money went exactly, versus donating to bigger organizations where you can’t really pinpoint what happens to your donation. It gets closer to the heart that way, I think.

What are you planning to do here in Manila through m.a.m.a earth?

Jaime: We were thinking of a way how to help, and Social Welfare Undersecretary Celia Yangco brought us to an orphanage with blind kids; she said they were in need of educational materials, so we’re working on a way to help them.

Bernie: We really want to focus on moms and children, especially after seeing the inmates in Cebu. I mean, with the husbands in jail, who’s looking after the kids now?

Your affinity to family is evident in your choice of charity work. You really grew up close to each other?

Bernie: Yes! Sometimes, a little too close! I remember though, that even when we were still here, my dad would always bring home hungry kids we didn’t know. They’d beg for money but my dad didn’t believe in giving money, he’d rather bring them home and feed them. So, I got that habit, too. Whenever I see a hungry kid, I melt. I would give my last dime for a hungry child. The kids near our hotel now, they’d come running to us every day, and we’d feed them, give them pizza and candy. I was raised that way, and I want to continue that tradition of helping.

Jaime: And toothbrushes! My mom wanted them to brush their teeth after eating all that candy!

What else have you done here, aside from that?

Jaime: We visited Resorts World, that was beautiful. From Cebu, we got a taste of the tropical vibe. I want to go back and see all the islands.

Any shopping?

Bernie: I like a bargain, I’m a smart shopper. I’m a seamstress, too, so I don’t buy many clothes. But I’m dying to go to Greenhills and buy some beads, since I make jewelry, too.

Tell us more about raising your kids the “Filipino way.”

Bernie: I taught my kids how to be polite, well-mannered. Coming from a big family, my mom was very old-fashioned, and I learned to carry over what she taught me. I’m so proud of my kids, they turned out so well.

Jaime: Coming back here, I realize now that I came to be this way because of my grandparents and family. The things taught to me, I see here, like respect for others, especially elders. That’s something you don’t see in other places. Everyone’s so nice and warm, very welcoming and hospitable, and I intend to raise my kids the same way.

……………………………………………………………………………………………… Nerd here: The reason I’m submitting this article, is in honor of Bruno’s charitable act for Flint, Michigan. I’m submitting this because I see there are people questioning Bruno’s heart and if he’s truly genuine with his efforts. This unpublished article proves that he is. Bruno comes from an entire family where they highlight the importance of helping others and giving back. This is something that his mom has taught him to do. Bruno is basically carrying on the legacy of what his mom has instilled in him. Of being kind to others and helping those in need. Bruno is genuinely a good person and his kind gestures are coming straight from his heart. ❤️

[silverspun-fr]

Life at the Rounds

Just a glimpse of life in the Thorim Rift military--and a sort of introduction for every in-lair member of the military in one place. I really enjoyed writing this.

If anyone wants to be pinged for any of my storylines or whatnot, let me know!

@majestyrising - for Decadence. XD

~~~~

While the politicians had The Wheel, portioned off in eleven places for the eleven flights, the military of Thorim Rift, containing its three distinct branches, conglomerated in the Tribar. Basically an amplified barracks of three elongated buildings constructed around a central building where the real work took place. Similar in form to the Flight Conference Hall, or the Wheel, but the Eye is what watched both outwards and inwards for issues at large. Mostly outwards, since the Paladins of the Wheel dealt with the internal struggles and lives of the differing flights within. The Eye is where the Generals met, where the Commandant both lived and worked, and where the other ranking soldiers did their daily duties. There the three branches operated as a single force, where mages, warriors, and tacticians of all sorts gathered for the well-being and protection of their magnificent city. But the Tribar—or the triple barracks—housed the soldiers of each branch separately and inspired the continued hazing each separate section of the military maintained with the other. Good-natured hazing, of course. Usually.

For the warriors under General Zenthra, their barracks was known for their strict hours and rules, enforced by her frankly terrifying son, Daedalus. They were tough, brutal, but fashioned warriors out of mere dragons, creatures that would withstand any pressure, any fire without hesitancy or fear.

The mages, charged under General Vizanti, had stranger rules, though they were no less strict and demanding. They boasted the largest library and a certain number of hours of study were expected of them all. They were sharp, quick, and liked to keep at a distance. Their least favorite drills were with the warriors, learning how to defend one’s self from a physical attack if energy ran low and magic was not immediately available.

Lastly, the tacticians. General Cassian commanded the most divergent of branches, consisting of ground and air men. Forerunning scouts and stealth infiltrators for gathering information, airships and bare fliers all made up the tactician ranks. It was the smallest branch, but a proven necessity, and the Commandant wouldn’t have his military without them and their diversity both in people and in thought.

And yet, despite all the differences and the jibes, the commons in the Eye was a gathering place for all. The lower floor of the broad, round building had been fashioned into a mess and an assortment of lounges, both big and small, where soldiers of any sort could gather and relax, kick back for a while and lick training field wounds. Share a story or two.

“…and I said, listen—” Decadence, otherwise known as Cade, or Cad depending on who you asked, was standing in the middle of a span of sofas and couches, his hands up in a placating manner while emulating a conversation previously had. “Listen. It’s not that I don’t like the style, but I think it could use a little touch-up around the edges.”

“You did not,” Johari hooted, clapping a hand over her eyes, already laughing. She was sprawled on a long sofa, sitting perpendicular to another tundra who looked a little more keen on watching her reaction rather than Cade’s presentation, but Orvar just couldn’t resist turning back to the guardian when Cade began to wave his arms frantically, brushing off the denial.

“I did so! I said exactly that! I swear to Plaguemother that her face just went paler than her white silks. I saw them; they were on the rack behind her, and she just blended right in like a chameleon and where’d she go? I could have probably died and you’d all be wearing underpants dipped in my blood.”

“Oh, that’s just disgusting,” Orvar snorted, wrinkling his nose. “Everything would rot away with your blood.”

“Probably,” Cade nodded, pushing his shaggy ashen hair back out of his face. “But that’s not the best part.”

“That’s not even a good part,” Katenka muttered, sipping a glass of cheap wine and shaking her head.

Cade spread his hands, earning their attention again. “No, the best part is? She actually agreed with me.” It was dead silent for a moment, all eyes on him. He nodded. “She did! I swear it; she looked me dead in the eye, white as a sheet, and just—crumbled. She couldn’t believe I noticed! Said her whole ­line was ruined because this idiot,” pointing to himself, “could spot the defect! And! And!” He patted the air, getting them all quiet before they burst into laughter. “She tells me, ‘Don’t you dare say a word about this, Decadence! Or I’ll sew all your uniform collars up so small you’ll suffocate.’ So I just shrugged real big and said, ‘FINE BY ME, KARI. IT’S BETTER THAN BEING A SLOW-BURNNED SOPRANO’!”

Now Decadence let them all roar with laughter, he finally able to join in, nearly doubled over himself with mirth over the mere memory. Above them all, though, a deep, booming roll of thunder rose from Daedalus seated nearly across the room. The silk merchant in question, the ever-affable Makari, has been Daedalus’ Charge for years now, and he knew the pearlcatcher better than the rest. He also seemed to dislike her the most, and yet thrived on making her life as bothersome and difficult as possible, despite constantly going into the city to check on her and ruffle her feathers. Her connection with the Daedalus is what brought her to being the commissioned seamstress for the military, and she is second to none in her craft for miles and miles around Thorim Rift. But her frilly attitude just made it so easy to tease her.

Slapping the counter where he sat, Daedalus chuckled deeply as he rose, setting his empty glass down. “Think I’ll go pay her a visit. Thank her for the entertainment.” He still chuckled as he went, his deep voice carrying still even from well down the hallway.

As for the rest of the group, they still chuckled, but mostly had fallen quiet, appreciative of Cade’s way with storytelling. He’d taken a seat himself, filling a broad chair and grinning like a proud fool, loving his moments in the limelight.

In the silence that followed, Katenka rose from her stool. Her aviation jacket was unbuttoned down the front, which was about as relaxed as she ever liked to be while in public. She raised her glass to the small group. “That’s me heading off. I’ve got some navigation charts to look over before tomorrow. Are you coming, Farid?”

The man in question, sprawled across a whole couch and appearing asleep, lifted a hand from where it dangled to the floor and raised his hat off his face, blinking at her with deep blue eyes. “No, I’m good. Unless you need my last topographical sheet.”

Katenka narrowed her eyes in thought. “Not to burst your relaxing time, but that would be good.”

“No worries,” he grunted, sitting up and throwing his feet off the couch to the floor to stand. “Might as well get myself going again. I’ve got an evening drill to do later.”

“You know, I enjoy those,” Katenka mused, waiting for him so they could walk out together.

“Do you?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty neat from the air. See you guys later,” she called, briefly turning back to the three still in the room. “The sunset makes everything look out of sorts.”

“Yeah…. What were you drinking, by the way?”

“Oh, this? Something that would make my mother cry, probably. She’s a vintner and would kill me for consuming something so bland.”

Their conversation faded as they left, leaning Decadence, Johari, and Orvar left. Still highly amused, Cade drummed his fingers on the arm rests, quite unaware of the shift the room had taken, even while the two tundras stared at him.

Well. One stared at him.

Orvar, trying his best not to be so obvious, stared hard at the thick-headed guardian, silently wishing Decadence would go so he and Johari could have some conversation alone. But Cade just sat there, smirking to himself, completely oblivious. And after Orvar had already explained his desire to have one-on-one with the illustrious captain herself.

The silence extended for too long, though, and eventually Johari rose as well. “Guess I’ll see you two later. Don’t be late in the morning, Cade.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he chirped, beaming as she turned to go, but the expression fled when he caught Orvar’s baleful glower. Jarred by sudden, and late, recollection, Cade mouthed, I’m sorry! And waved his hands in a shooing motion, indicating that Orvar should just go with her.

Orvar jabbed an accusing finger in Cade’s direction, but the guardian only waved harder, glancing at the door as Johari left before he stood and rushed Orvar. All that boisterous beef running at him would have made anyone startle, and for a second he froze. Too long. Cade had him by the shirt front, hauling him off the couch and manhandling him towards the door. Their silent argument consisted of varying ‘stop it’s and ‘just go after her’s until Cade shoved Orvar out of the lounge, kicking the doorframe so Johari looked back in question, forcing Orvar to straighten and address her.

“Hey,” he waved. “Um. Mind if I walk with you a bit?” Never mind that the mage barracks was almost opposite of the warrior’s. Sort of. It was a fairly even circle all the way around and—never mind.

Johari gave him a once-over, then shrugged a shoulder. “Sure, Tenders.”

Biting back a groan, he ducked his head for a second before pushing forward to join her. “That’s really not fair, you know. It was my first ring brawl.”

“Then you should have kept your explosives to yourself,” she chuckled, glancing at him. Her brown eyes were so rich, so dark against the near golden hue of her skin tone. Ugh, he sounded like a fool.

“Right,” he muttered, rubbing his chin a couple times. “There’s a good reason for that.”

“Yeah? Better get to explaining it before I make up my mind, then.”

Startled, Orvar looked to her, finding Johari already looking him dead in the face. They both stopped—he slowing when she halted, expectant and…frankly, almost intimidating. But he liked that about her. Has ever since she kicked his tail in the ring brawl. Her spotting him had been his own fault, too, when the light magic he’d been playing with just backfired, singeing his hair and eyebrows. They’ve started to grow back, though, thankfully.

“Um,” he began stupidly, and she immediately turned on her heels to go. Reaching out for her arm, gently, no tugging—he didn’t want broken fingers—Orvar tried again, forcing his voice not to waver with any hint of uncertainty. “I’m just a mage; I get that. And I don’t mean any disrespect, Captain, but I’d like to get to know you better. On and off the training field.”

Unsurprisingly, she challenged, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

If she thought he’d have a hard time meeting her scrutinizing gaze, she’d have to guess again. She’d also probably hit him if she knew the withstood by just getting lost in the color of them. So brown. Has he ever seen a brown that nice? Probably not.

“Mostly off the field, I’m guessing.” She severed his concentration, but he only smiled.

“Both, actually. Physicality in a fight isn’t my style, but it’s always good to have the range for when the one up front can’t look behind their back.”

For the first time during this conversation Johari cracked a smile. “Good point. You wanna have my back? You’ve gotta earn it, Tenders.”

“Absolutely,” he grinned. “I’ll earn a less unfortunate nickname, too.”

“Keep dreaming.”