#oh and asir

[fornasedensgudar]

Oh Delling.

Delling the light one.

Asir god of the dawn.

Third husband of the fair dark Night and father of the Day.

Guard of the eastern heavens, guard of Baldurs home in the grove of Mimir and Mimirs eastern realm.

God of the morning light. Delling, whos door the dwarfs and trolls fear and great gods pass through on their way to Hel.

I can not be the only one that have been glad to see the signs of spring arive, and amung them are truly beutiful mornings on my way to work.

Oh Delling, you truly are one of the most beutiful gods indeed.

[shummthechumm]

ASiR still holds a special place in my heart but that ending. feathertail becoming xenophobic...and the victim-blaming of sasha...OH DOES THAT SOUR THE THINGS I ACTUALLY LIKE IN THAT BOOK

[rrcraft-and-lore]

Tapati, who is she, and why is she significant?

Well, first, she is a river goddess, but daughter of the sun god, Surya. However, her name means the hot one, the burning one. Interestingly enough, her name is tied to the river she's said to rule over - HOWEVER, language time.

Agni, a vedic fire god, has a scythian counterpart similar in name (and the scythian's are the older culture that broke off to form the vedic, indo iranian/iranian, and levant people as well as others - mixing, breeding, invading).

Back to Tapati.

Her name is cognate with the Scythian supreme fire goddess, Tabiti. Very interesting.

Tabiti is the supreme goddess of all things in the Scythian culture, primordial, the first flame, and much like Ianna (from Summerian mythology I talked about later) went on to inspire entire god/goddess roles, and had mantles inverted as interestingly enough, there's evidence some first/supreme deities were feminine, later flipped to male as cultures evolved - their places/roles attributes assigned to male gods and their places changed - made wives, daughters, so on a similar sort of flipping happens out of the Scythian culture/ proto Indo Europeans (that I've talked about) where the root word for a divine (doesn't mean good just divinely powered) being evolved along languages the ahura, asura, and asir (Norse) come from an older proto Indo-European/Scythian word.

In the Vedic stories, the daevas are good, the asura evil. In the Avestan and Iranian texts...the ahura/asura are good, and the daevas are evil.

We know the Norse asir and vanir warred also very interesting. And interesting how gods/goddesses are changed, subsumed, adopted and more, no? Tabiti was never represented in/by art, btw. Her representation was always an actual fireplace -- a flame. That's what you used.

There's historical written evidence in places of Agni's animal form being both referred to as a bull, AND a cow in places - different genders. And his flame being referred to as female in places.

In the Hindu bronze age, Agni had way more of a prominent role as fire did before later dwindling...as fire does (ooooo symbolic - okay that's just cuz of time and shifting priorities), but there are more similarities of these things in Baltic cultures -- but oh why?

(Why am I hopping around? Cuz gods/goddesses, archetypes, beats, stories all do too - all connected you muppets).

Well, did you know the closest cognate to Sanskrit is Lithuanian? It's kept so much of its proto Indo European roots.

Wait, a South Asian language and Baltic European language are cognates? YUH. WEIRD.

Almost like they both derived out of an older culture, language, their practices, beliefs and more.

And most of human history is just migrating, fucking, invading, and settling in new places and staying long enough until your features continue to change due to bow chicka wow wowing and environment.

Funny how that works.

Here's some Scythian clothing (oh btw, women were warriors/could be too - congrats you learned that).

Does this style look familiar? Yeah, you can see the evolution/adaptation from this to later styles (bearing similarities) in Iran, India, Mongolia, the Baltics.

Cuz....y'know, that's where the proto Indo Europeans went about their biz and got jiggy with it and settled. Wow-wow-wee-wah! Okay now I'm done. Circular ish convo to get there but started with a fire goddess, it's relevant, but it all comes back to this.

Btw, this is also an important lesson for fantasy authors.

Because of all these connections and how old a bad ass fire goddess is, many of the oldest cultures are regarded as fire worshippers (like the Zoroastrians) did you know some keep an eternal burning flame? -- one is in Udvada Gujarat in India.

This flame has been said to have been kept burning for 1,500 years.

FIFTEEN HUNDRED.

And again, while most of the surviving Indo Iranic sun gods are male, there is evidence the ORIGINAL sun deity (including in/from the German, Baltic, and Slavic religions) was FEMALE.

[mallowstep]

@vixen-flower replied to your post “@vixen-flower replied to your post “not to bring...”:

i dont just hate men i love them very much, i hate most of the fandom’s ships and their favorite characters. i just find feathercrow to be pretty boring. but i don’t think anyone who ships it is a pedophole or some shit. i think it’s the similar thought process for tigerdove haters that they dislike the ship, but instead of just going “eh it’s not for me” they go “YOU’RE PROBLEMATIC!”

​oh yeah, that wasn't personal to you!

it's a comment on how age gaps with men in fandom seem to be reviled, while you can put the same age gap on a wlw ship and get...crickets. (or get people who yell at you for bringing it up, see: every time i've mentioned mothpool age gaps.)

you (generic) have to pretty much maliciously misread tnp if you want the age gap to be problematic, so normally if i see someone who insists it's pedophilic (if you haven't see those claims: yes, they're real), i go, "okay, yeah, i don't need to waste my time with you."

sadly i spend so much of my time defending feathercrow. like it's not that much but i think the ship is boring and dumb and i hate how much feathertail time is wasted on it. i actually didn't like feathertail when i first read tnp because of it. i didn't like her until i read asir.

like it's just a boring ship. it's dusty.

[lesbiten]

buying the rest of the fields guides and skyclans destiny because of my compulsive need to have all the books vs. do i really want them

[derangedrhythms]

Any quotes about night and stars, please? ✨

"The night is shaped like a howling wolf."

— Alejandra Pizarnik, Extracting the Stone of Madness; from ‘Paths of the Mirror’, tr. Yvette Siegert

"Then, it being night, and the twin stars of Castor and Pollux just visible in the sky, I spoke of that tragedy, of two brothers whose love we might find unnatural, so stricken in grief when one was killed that the other, begging for his life again, accepted instead that for half the year one might live, and for the rest of the year the other, but never the two together. So it is for us, who while on earth in these suits of lead sense the presence of one we love, not far away but too far to touch."

— Jeanette Winterson, from 'Sexing the Cherry'

"The night is cold and delicate and full of angels"

— John Ashbery, Rivers and Mountains; from ‘The Ecclesiast’

"Oh starry starry night! This is how / I want to die."

— Anne Sexton, All My Pretty Ones; from ‘The Starry Night’

"Life is too short to be all daylight. Night is not less; it’s more."

— Jeanette Winterson, from 'Why I adore the night'

"…a strange night-time otherworld of darkness and starlight and the fine line between life and death."

— Katherine Clements, from 'The Coffin Path'

"But the Orphics say that black-winged Night, a goddess of whom even Zeus stands in awe, was courted by the Wind and laid a silver egg in the womb of Darkness; and that Eros, whom some call Phanes, was hatched from this egg and set the Universe in motion."

— Robert Graves, from 'The Greek Myths: The Complete and Definitive Edition'

"That doesn’t stop me having a tremendous need for, shall I say the word — for religion — so I go outside at night to paint the stars [...]"

— Vincent van Gogh

"Night. Such a beautiful word."

— Janet Fitch, from 'Chimes of a Lost Cathedral'

"Why shun darkness? / The night abounds with diamond drops."

— Forugh Farrokhzad, Asir (Captive); from 'On Loving', tr. Sholeh Wolpé

"Dear, though the night is gone, / Its dream still haunts to-day,"

— W. H. Auden, Selected Poems; from ‘Dear, though the night is gone’

"There was a star riding through clouds one night, and I said to the star, "Consume me."

"I desired always to stretch the night and fill it fuller and fuller with dreams."

— Virginia Woolf, from 'The Waves'

"By day I am nothing, by night I am myself."

— Fernando Pessoa, from 'The Book of Disquiet', tr. Margaret Jull Costa

"...the frozen glitter of stars, shattered glass on black silk..."

— Maggie O' Farrell, from 'Hamnet'

"I sometimes fancy that my body is made up of all the different stars. Leo’s in my chest; I’m sure it’s Leo because my heart roars."

— Jeanette Winterson, from 'Boating for Beginners'

"Night, the night again, the magisterial wisdom of the dark."

— Alejandra Pizarnik, A Musical Hell; from ‘Desire for the Word’, tr. Yvette Siegert

"If only at the midnight hour / You’d send me a greeting across the stars."

— Anna Akhmatova, Seventh Book; from Sweetbrier In Blossom; ‘In a Dream’, tr. Judith Hemschemeyer

"Under the shield of night, / let me unburden the moon."

— Forugh Farrokhzad, Reborn; from ‘Border Walls’, tr. Sholeh Wolpé

"The night snows stars and the earth creaks."

— Ted Hughes, Wodwo; from ‘The Howling of Wolves’

"I have loved the stars too truly to be fearful of the night."

— Sarah Williams, Twilight Hours; from 'The Old Astronomer'

[ministeriosapasionadosxcristo]

#Espere_en_el_Señor

Hay señales de los movimientos del Señor que deberían movernos a nosotros. El Espíritu de Dios sopla de donde quiere, y nosotros oímos su sonido. Entonces llegó el momento de que estemos más activos que nunca. Debemos asir esa oportunidad de oro, y sacarle el máximo provecho. Es responsabilidad nuestra pelear con los filisteos en todo momento; pero cuando el propio Señor sale delante de nosotros, entonces hemos de ser especialmente valientes en la guerra.

La brisa sacudió las copas de los árboles, y David y sus hombres tomaron esto como la señal para una arremetida, y en su avance el Señor, Él mismo, hirió a los filisteos ¡Oh, que en este día el Señor nos abra una puerta para hablar de Él con muchos de nuestros amigos! Hemos de velar para aprovechar la oportunidad esperanzadora cuando llegue.

[3linaturabi]

مَا رَأَيْتُ إِلاّ جَمِيلاً

"I saw nothing but beauty"

Lady Zainab (as) – Umm al-Masaeb

Lady Umm Kolthoum (as) made herself fall from the camel and Lady Zainab (as) wailed on the body of her brother Husain (as) which made even the enemies to weep. Kamel ibn Asir edition 4 page 81 says that Lady Zainab (as) raised the body of her brother toward sky on her hands and said: “Oh, Allah! Accept this sacrifice of ours.” She continued: “Oh, the Prophet of God! Angels at earth and sky send peace on you, this is your Husain (as) whose body has been cut into pieces and beheaded, this is your Husain (as) whose body is lying in this desert without any coffin or grave, wind is putting earth on it and every friend and foe is shedding tear on him.”

Then she addressed her mother Fatemat az-Zahra (as) and said: “Oh, Dear mother! Oh, the daughter of Khair al-Bashar! Glance towards the desert of Karbala and see your son whose head is on the point of a spear and whose body is lying on earth saturated with blood in this desert. Oh, Dear mother! See toward your daughters, their tents have been put on fire and they have been made to ride camels without seats, we are your offspring and are engrossed in helplessness.”

Then she addressed Sayyed ash-Shohadaa (as) while tears rolling down her cheeks saying: “We sacrifice our lives for him whose army was martyred, whose tents were uprooted, who is not disappeared so that we may hope for his return, neither he is injured so that we may hope for his recovery, for him who was martyred in sorrow, broken heart and thirsty, blood was running from whose beard, whose grandfather is Mohammad Mostafa the Prophet of God (pbuh), who is the son of Khadijat al-Kobra (as), Ali al-Mortadha (as), Fatemat az-Zahra (as), for whom the Sun turned back so that he may say his prayers.”

Then she addressed pious companions of Rasoul-Allah (pbuh) saying: “Oh, Grief! Today my forefather Rasoul-Allah (pbuh) has left this world, Oh, the companions of Rasoul Allah (pbuh)! These are the followers of Rasoul-Allah (pbuh) who are being taken away like prisoners.” The Yazidi forces started shedding tears on her utterance, animals and marine life got upset. It is said in “Mahr Qalqaloub” that at that time majority of people saw that horses in the Yazidi forces shed so much tears that their foot became wet with them.

My Question: There is a saying of Mawla ‘Ali (as) that even if mountains love us, they would fall apart. While human being best of all creatures , then why not they would shed tears, recite latmiyah, perform ma’tam, Zanjir Zani and Qamah Zani in the love of Ahl al-Bait who are the source of survival for them?

Azadari is a universal protest against oppression and brutality...

[lisinfleur]

T&T - Chapter 16: Scars (Final)

Author’s Notes | One more finished work! Man, I’m so proud of this one! I really hope you guys enjoyed it! Especially you, sweet @honestsycrets, who inspired my dear Iliana! Love you! Words | 3712 ⁑ Warnings: Mentions of death, violence, blood.

The Great Hall was full.

The last time Ivar could remember seeing his house full of people like that, with all his brothers reunited, it was when they were planning the Great Heathen Army's incursion.

One year before everything went down into the dark.

Less than one year before they lost Sigurd for his own lack of control.

"You're thinking too much for a happy day, brother," it was Hvitserk to call his attention this time.

But Ivar sighed, looking at the two of them near him. He had settled four chairs to be placed at the main table: one for Hvitserk at the right, one for Iliana, empty by his side, one for himself and another in the middle, for Ubbe who would be announced the future king of Kattegat in that same event.

His older brother was already in between the Earls, speaking and making connections, probably spreading the news slowly to make them more receptive to what they wanted to announce. Iliana didn't have come yet - she was probably finishing the instructions to Vali's wet nurse of that night so she could come and sit by his side.

"I was remembering, Hvitserk," Ivar said, sipping from his cup. "One year before our father's vengeance, our hall was full of earls like this, do you remember?"

Hvitserk sighed.

It was the day he came back from the Mediterranean Sea with deceased Björn right on time for him to stop Ubbe and Ivar's attempt to take revenge for their mother's murder over the new queen, the now also deceased Lagertha.

The beginning of the end for them.

"Memories, Ivar. The best we can do is to forget them," Hvitserk said, sipping from his cup as well.

The earls coming in and out of the hall, speaking. Some of them drinking and laughing at Ubbe's circle.

"I rather keep them," Ivar said, attracting Hvitserk's glare. "They remember me of what we had that was the best and doesn't let me forget the lessons I've learned from my mistakes."

Hvitserk smiled. It was a good reason to remember.

"I miss Sigurd's oud in these moments," He said, taking the wave of Ivar's vibes. "He was good in making parties funnier."

Ivar then looked at the small band, clapping his hands and waving them for the music to change into something more animated before he could look at Hvitserk with agreement in his face.

"Sigurd didn't have to be called up for good music indeed."

Hvitserk giggled.

Sigurd would like to mock Ivar forever for that praise. But it was true: his younger brother never had to be called up for good music to be played in their parties. Maybe Ubbe's son who was carrying his uncle's name would end up learning the oud as well or inheriting the talent Sigurd didn't have children to pass forward.

The high spot of that night was coming and Iliana finally entered the hall in a beautiful dress that attracted Ivar's eyes - and half of the eyes in the Hall as well. But she ignored all the pair of eyes, walking straight towards her king, caressing his face and gently kissing his lips before sitting beside him, causing a salve of frustrated sighs all over the hall and Ubbe's small laugh when some of the Earls came to ask if that was really his brother's wife or some missed daughter Ragnar had left behind in England - for their luck, of course.

"I would take care with my words, my friends. The woman you just saw is not my sister but my sister in law, married to your king and mother of his firstborn. I suggest you respect her or else my brother may choose to show you all his aim is still the same... But it's just my advice," Ubbe answered.

Smiling with the memory it wasn't the first time he was kinda defending Ivar in a situation like that, lifting his cup to his brother in a salutation Ivar answered from the throne, smiling at him.

Like the old times... The good old times he was glad to see coming back into their lives.

Good for ones, not that good for others: Iliana’s eyes noticed when the two brothers started crossing the crowd, passing through Ubbe to approach the king.

Their sudden approaching causing Ivar's men to touch their swords and Hvitserk to release his cup over the table landing his hand over the sword as well. Ivar straightened himself at the chair as Iliana held his hand tight, almost clenching his fingers. His blues catching her expression of recognition: she knew those men.

"May I ask why so hurried, my friends?" Ubbe interposed himself in front of the men and Algor raised his hand pointing straight towards Iliana.

"I knew it was you!" he growled as Asir turned himself to speak with the three kings, all of them annoyed with their attitude.

"The woman beside King Ivar... She's a murderer, my lord!" he accused.

His words opening a clearer in the middle of the crowd, creating a space where the earls retrieved themselves and Ivar's men stepped forward, prepared to battle if necessary.

There weren't too many of the brother's men with them - they weren't expecting such an event would happen. However, Asir and Algor decided to test their kings and try their luck to have their vengeance conceded and maybe some credit with the new kings for pointing what was an obvious threat for King Ivar's life in their minds.

Ubbe turned himself to look at Ivar with a worried frown, but his little brother's lips contorted in an ironic smile.

"You may be Algor... And Asir. Am I wrong?" he asked, lifting Iliana’s tense hand in between his fingers, caressing her fingers with his thumb in a sign for her to calm down, causing Algor's body to shiver, tense.

"She spoke about us, I suppose," Asir said, looking at Ivar.

Algor had his eyes fixed in Iliana’s rigid figure over that chair.

How could his brother's murderer be sitting beside a king like a queen? How could that bitch he fucked so many times now be something bigger than himself? Algor just couldn't accept her skin so clean, covered in such silky tissues and beautiful glowing jewels! She was supposed to be dead and he wouldn't leave that hall without her blood in his hands, he thought.

"Oh, she did," Ivar giggled.

Causing Ubbe to frown more seriously and Hvitserk, more curious.

"Ivar, what are they talking about?" Ubbe questioned.

But Ivar just rose his fingers, asking mutely for Ubbe to wait.

He hadn't planned that moment, but he could explain everything to his brothers later when the time was proper. Now, his eyes landed on the pair of brothers in front of them, serene, but threatening.

"I suggest you step back, my friend," he advised Algor, noticing the man was about to climb on the first step of the stairs that would lead to his table, anxious for reaching the woman Ivar could see was prey in his eyes. "We're speaking about my queen and I really believe the two of you have no right to make such accusations."

"My lord," Asir tried to step forward but Ubbe moved, preventing him from advancing more. "This woman, she murdered our brother and sister in law in cold blood! She was once our slave we gifted to our brother in goodwill and she killed them both to flee! How come do you want us to accept as queen a woman that's nothing but our stolen property? Even more, one that has our kindred's blood on her hands?" he tried to speak beautiful words.

Convincing ones.

"Ivar?" Ubbe asked, really confused by his brother's smile towards those grave accusations.

Hvitserk had three extra wrinkles on his forehead: Iliana? That sweet woman that served him mead and lulled his nephew with such delicate hands... A murderer? In cold blood? The woman couldn't kill a fly!

"It's true," Iliana said, catching Ubbe's attention and printing one more wrinkle on Hvitserk's forehead. "I did kill them to flee, but because the would've killed me that night! I protected my own life after begging for your help and mercy!"

"It was their right!" Algor's voice was heard, full of anger. "You're nothing but a slave, woman! Your life belongs to your masters! If they decide to take it then you shall gladly accept your fate and thank if they want it to be painless!"

Ivar giggled and his laugh silenced everyone in the hall once again.

"You speak... As if she was yours yet," his voice sounded heavy and threatening. "You entered my hall, stood in front of me to accuse my queen, and to call me a thief..."

"I didn't..." Asir tried, but Ivar lifted his hand with a dagger between his fingers, shushing his voice.

"You said she was your 'stolen property' which makes me a thief in your words, my friend. However, when I found her, she was wandering around without a master. I took her with me and this woman saved my life, not once, but twice. The hands you accuse of murdering your brother and sister in law healed my wounds and saved my skin from death itself. This woman sacrificed her own dignity for what I needed and when I wasn't able to fight for myself, she was the one who endured the most terrible cruelties to keep me alive. So, I have my reasons to believe the gods gave her the strength to kill your kin so she would survive in my favor. As a man many times blessed by the gods, I believe fate has placed her where she is. So, my offer is simple: I'll pay you the price of a slave and the two of you will leave my Hall satisfied with the will of our gods. Or you can step forward against my queen and find your brother tonight in Valhalla, my friends. If he ever had the right to stand in the halls of the gods..." Ivar completed with a mocking smile that was really making Hvitserk confuse and causing all the triggers of Ubbe's mistrust to be pulled at the same time.

Was his little brother still that arrogant motherfucker of before? Was he still deluded of being one of the gods or favored by them?

Asir stepped back, trying to think.

He couldn't accept that woman would just live like a queen beside Ivar and nothing would be done for his brother's loss. He couldn't just stand there and accept the two silver coins they had paid for her and go back home with his head clear after pleading loyalty to her as queen beside his king!

"I don't think you're understanding the gravity of what we just said, my king," he tried one more time. "This woman is dangerous! She..."

"She's your queen, my dear friend. And she never offered me any danger. To be honest, the greatest danger I'm seeing in this hall at this moment is your brother's trembling hand over his sword's handle." Ivar insisted on the mocking tone.

And it was enough for Algor's wounded pride. He was holding that back for too long and he knew the hunters he paid to hunt her were killed by Ivar himself. Algor wouldn't handle any more of that boy's offenses - son of Ragnar or not, he was nothing but a man. And men fall...

"You won't prevent me from taking what's rightfully mine!" Algor declared, unsheathing his sword and advancing towards Iliana. "I'll ensure to cut your throat as you did to my sister in law, you bit..."

The word died in Algor's throat crossed by Ivar's dagger before he could take a second step, knocking him down on the stairs for Asir's despair.

"Algor! Brother!" he yelled, kneeling beside his brother's dead body as Algor's throat was bleeding a pool on Ivar's ground.

Hvitserk and Ubbe were astonished. Iliana sat pale beside Ivar's chair. But Ivar was cold to that man's suffering. He knew what they had done to Iliana. He knew all those marks in her skin, each one of them... He had lulled her nightmares, sent away her fears. He knew the men he was taking down deserved what he was doing, if not more.

Cold, he pulled one more dagger from his belt, swirling it and looking at Asir.

"My offer just dropped a little more, my friend. You can leave my hall now or you can die where you stand. And make me the favor to carry your trash with you."

"Ivar!" Ubbe growled, certain that he had taken the wrong side once again and come back to his brother's side was a mistake.

Maybe Ivar was still the same cruel monster he could remember and make peace to him was a huge misconception.

Asir got up with a feral growl, infuriated.

"You bastard!" he yelled. "You'll pay for what you did! Hear my words and mark them, Boneless! You and your bitch of a queen will pay with your lives for what you did today!" he threatened, walking back, intending to leave the hall as Ivar had given him the chance to do.

But as Asir walked through the hall towards the doors, Ivar sighed.

"I've heard you pretty well, my friend. And I've also learned the ones of your kind aren't up to give up on your promises of revenge, am I wrong?"

Asir turned himself to look at Ivar imposingly unsheathing his sword to point the king.

"You can be sure this sword will cross your chest and this whore you call a queen will be burned for her crimes along with your body, King Ivar!" he threatened again, mocking the word king with a tone full of contempt.

Unaffected, Ivar just nodded as if he was accepting Asir's words.

"This wouldn't be a pleasant fate for me and my wife... Then I suppose you'll understand I shall not give you the chance to try and make it real, my friend."

Asir's eyes got wide when he saw Ivar's hand moving, throwing a second dagger that crossed his head in the middle of his eyes, causing him to fall where he was, first on his knees, then with his head hitting the floor, sinking the dagger even more through his forehead. The tip of the blade popping out of the back of his head, bloodied.

"What in the nine realms just happened here?" Ubbe growled, full of fury.

And after waving his hand for the men to clean the hall, Ivar got up, keeping Iliana’s hand in between his fingers - despite how cold her fingers were and how she hid behind him from Ubbe's angry glare and Hvitserk's judgmental expression.

"My friends shall forgive me for this unfortunate episode. The Hall shall be cleaned and the feast will continue without any more interruptions, I suppose. Now please, forgive our absence, but your kings need a private talk. We'll be back in a while. Please, don't let this unhappy event prevent you from enjoying the feast." Ivar spoke to the Earls, pulling Iliana with him and looking at his brothers, expecting them to follow him to the map's room, where they could talk in private.

As soon as they arrived at the room, Iliana hid into Ivar's embrace, shaking.

"Shh... Don't worry, my queen. It's over now." Ivar started.

Not having time to hear her answer as Ubbe stormed into the room and Hvitserk closed the door behind them.

"You better have a pretty good explanation for what you just did! They were Earls, Ivar! Is this what you call a change, Hvitserk?" he questioned.

But Hvitserk was also full of curiosity and Ivar sighed, meek once again.

"I'm sorry about this awful show, my brothers. It wasn't how I was expecting this night to be, neither it was how I wanted to solve this situation. But you shall remember I told you, Ubbe, my wife had unfinished situations in Norway that I wanted to solve before we could leave," he started.

Causing Ubbe to cross his arms, annoyed.

"Uh? So what?" he asked.

And Ivar continued under Hvitserk's attentive eyes.

"Those men were prince Asir and prince Algor, brothers of prince Askold... My wife's former master," Ivar explained. "They weren't lying: Iliana was once a slave and she indeed killed her masters to flee after they've tortured her for months and intended to kill her with the Christians' bullshit about their Christ wounds. They've marked her several times in several different ways just to make her suffer for their pleasure, Ubbe. And in the end, her master's mistress wanted him to crown her with a crown of thorns and kill her so the bitch could bath in her blood! Iliana told me she begged for their help but the two bastards you just saw me killing denounced her for asking their mercy and instead of helping the poor thing, they offered their brother a new slave after he had killed her!"

Ivar's voice was sounding a little more emotive. And he turned himself towards Iliana, caressing her face.

"Show them, love," he asked.

Iliana nodded. She knew what he was talking about and she also knew that way, he could prove his words. She then proceeded to open her dress, turning her back to Ivar's brothers who watched in horror as she exposed her back skin, marked by Askold's hands and his wife's lust.

Ivar's eyes landed on Ubbe's blues, searching comprehension in his brother's old behavior.

"You once told me we shouldn't treat Margrethe like cattle. You said she wasn't cattle, but a human being," he repeated, remembering Ubbe from a lesson so long lost in time along with the slave's memory in his heart.

As Iliana closed her dress, Ubbe watched his little brother embrace becoming her refuge. And his heart understood how much love there was in between them both.

Ivar's arms closed around Iliana, nestling her to his chest where she sighed, safe. But his eyes were still on Ubbe's.

"I think I wasn't cruel enough to repair what they did to her, brother. But the gods gave me the chance to take them out of my wife's heels and free her from their chains. You were right, Ubbe. She's not cattle. She's my wife. And I'll protect her, no matter what."

Ubbe sighed.

His fury vanishing along with the judgment in Hvitserk's face.

"You've learned more from me than I could imagine," his voice sounded before Ubbe could slide his hand through his face, straightening his beard and sighing once again. "I misjudged the situation... But you cannot keep us uninformed like this anymore!" he advised.

And Ivar agreed, sighing as well.

"I should have told you before. But I wasn't expecting the two rats to come this soon. I'm not the same man, Ubbe. I do not expect you to trust me completely after all we lived together, but do not take me from my worst. The man you knew died too long ago. Oleg, Freydis, and their treason killed that stupid boy. And Iliana’s hands sculpted me into a man I want you to be proud of having beside you someday."

Ubbe looked at him.

Maybe someday...

"Someday," he settled, patting Ivar's shoulder.

A moment of silence was made between them all before Ubbe could break it.

"We should go back to the Hall. The Earls must be confused."

"You go... Go with him, Hvitserk. I'll be following the two of you soon." Ivar said, receiving an agreement nod from both of his brothers before they left the room and he could focus on dear Iliana.

But before he could say anything, she threw her hands around his neck, embracing him tightly.

Ivar embraced her waist, bringing her against his chest in a cozy embrace.

"I love you," she mumbled and he nestled his face into her neck, sighing, feeling the sweet perfume of her skin.

"I love you too, my heart. I love you too."

It was over. She was finally free.

And now he could move forward without anything from his past to lock him in place anymore.

Both of them were finally free to live their lives as what they were: each other's halves.

  After that feast, with the crowns divided and territories established, Ivar and Iliana remained at Kattegat long enough for Torvi to arrive with Ubbe's children. Then, they departed to Ringerike for a visit, where they dropped Hvitserk in Frigga's warm arms along with his beautiful children and the notice of a fourth child to come after sweet Hillevi.

Their trip back home was calm. Sweet Vali almost all the time against his father's chest. A sweet memory Ivar was now reliving with his brand-new child resting against his chest on the balcony of their castle.

Vali was playing with his immediately younger brother Njörd - baptized like this for being produced at the sea, during that calm trip they enjoyed so much. Iliana was braiding their young princess' hair in a beautiful braid by Ivar's side.

"Done," she said. "Now go play with your brothers, Aslaug. And do not get your dress too dirty! Your uncles may arrive for dinner and I want you to be clean!" Iliana advised, watching as she ran towards the boys, smiling.

Her curly hair, black like her mothers. Blue eyes like her father's. Iliana smiled, nestling near Ivar's shoulder, caressing the baby boy's face against his chest.

"He sleeps so peacefully," She mumbled.

And he smiled.

"It's a thing with our children, isn't it? All of them love my chest to sleep." Ivar giggled.

"Aslaug is still jealous of him. She says Askel stole your chest from her." Iliana said, smiling at him.

"I'll take care of this jealous soon... Askel may be my peace, but she's my princess. She'll always be..."

"The light of your heart, I know," Iliana said, showing herself jealous for a joke.

"It seems jealousy is something of my girls, isn't it?" Ivar smiled, and she giggled, nuzzling her nose on his.

"So as the happiness, my king. So as the happiness..."

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[vocesdelaula]

Si no leemos, no sabemos escribir, y si no sabemos escribir, no sabemos pensar

 Hoy todos escriben, todos quieren expresar sus sentimientos y opiniones, pero, ¿quién lee? En cierta forma la lectura es una actividad superior a la escritura; sólo podemos escribir con el lenguaje que hemos adquirido leyendo. La lectura es la materia prima de la escritura y la posibilidad de crear una obra que tenga belleza y profundidad o simplemente claridad, se basa en las lecturas que hemos hecho y lo que hemos aprendido de otros autores (sus palabras se vuelven las nuestras, se mezclan con nuestros pensamientos y experiencias). Así se destila la escritura, como una refinación del pensamiento no sólo personal, sino del tiempo mismo.

Para muchas personas es más atractivo escribir, tiene más glamour –algo que quizás se deba a la inmadurez y al egoísmo–, pero grandes escritores nos dicen que la felicidad en realidad está en la lectura. Borges es especialmente fértil en este sentido: "la felicidad, cuando eres lector, es frecuente". Y la célebre: "Que otros se jacten de las páginas que han escrito; a mí me enorgullecen las que he leído".

Hay una frase contundente, que si no mal recuerdo es de Juan José Arreola, "Si no lees, no sabes escribir. Si no sabes escribir no sabes pensar". Una sencillez aforística que debe ser el fruto de la labor intelectual de un buen lector.

Edmund Husserl escribe en su Lógica formal y Lógica trascendental: "El pensamiento siempre se hace en el lenguaje y está totalmente ligado a la palabra. Pensar, de forma distinta a otras modalidades de la conciencia, es siempre lingüístico, siempre un uso del lenguaje". Así que si no tenemos palabras, si no tenemos lecturas en nuestra memoria que enriquezcan nuestro lenguaje, nuestro pensamiento será muy pobre.

Las personas toleran no ser buenos lectores, pero si se les dice que no saben pensar, esto lastima su orgullo y, sin embargo, una condiciona a la otra.

Así, la lectura es una herramienta de desarrollo fundamental. Y donde mejor se desenvuelve esta herramienta es en los libros, no en los pequeños artículos que dominan la circulación de la Web; el encuentro con el lenguaje merece un espacio de concentración –el medio es también el mensaje–, un encuentro a fondo con la mente de un autor que puede haber muerto hace cientos de años pero que vive, al menos meméticamente, en el texto que se trasvasa a nuestra mente.

Podemos también preguntarnos si es que existe o no la conciencia sin el lenguaje. Aunque una primera lectura de las filosofías de la India parecería indicar que para los pensadores que nos dieron el yoga y la meditación, la conciencia existe más allá del pensamiento lingüístico (que es, de hecho, todo lo que existe), como ocurre en los estados de absorción meditativa (jñanas), también se debe notar que en el hinduismo el universo es generado a partir de la letra A del sánscrito, de la cual también se deriva la sílaba creadora OM.

Posteriormente, en el budismo tibetano la letra A del alfabeto tibetano (parecida a la A del sánscrito) es también considerada una especie de fuente cósmica creativa, y se representa como emanando los cinco elementos en un thigle (bindu en sánscrito). Tenemos por supuesto la cábala, donde el universo entero es lo que se produce cuando se pronuncian los nombres divinos; la letra Aleph, tiene suprema importancia (como exploró Borges en su cuento, donde el Aleph es justamente como una especie de thigle o punto donde se encuentra la totalidad del universo).

Sin embargo, el mundo es creado con la letra Bet, con la palabra Bereshit, que David Chaim Smith traduce no como inicio, sino algo así como "inicialidad" (beginingness), para denotar la constancia de la creación, un acto perenne que no ocurre en el pasado, sino en el presente. En suma, el mundo se crea con la palabra y esto es así no sólo en una visión esotérica o religiosa de la realidad, lo es en nuestra vida cotidiana: sólo alcanzamos a distinguir las formas una vez que tenemos los nombres.

De cualquier manera queda claro que la lectura como surtidor de las palabras que animan nuestra conciencia es un aspecto esencial de lo que es un ser humano que piensa el mundo. Podemos existir sin pensar, y a veces el pensamiento se convierte en un ruido que enferma la mente, pero en el pensamiento, con el poder de la palabra, tenemos una potencia divina. Como escribió Hölderlin:

 Sin embargo, nos compete, bajo la tormenta de Dios,

Oh poetas, erguidos y con la cabeza descubierta,

Asir con nuestras propias manos el rayo de luz del Padre,

Y pasar, envuelto en canción, ese regalo divino a la gente

 culturainquieta.com

Alejandro Mar

[lovejesusbrian]

🕆 Palabras Sabias Para este día

### 3 de Mayo “Y cuando oigas ruido como de marcha por las copas de las balsameras, entonces te moverás; porque Jehová saldrá delante de ti a herir el campamento de los filisteos.” 2 Samuel 5: 24. Hay señales de los movimientos del Señor que deberían movernos a nosotros. El Espíritu de Dios sopla de donde quiere, y nosotros oímos su sonido. Entonces llegó el momento de que estemos más activos que nunca. Debemos asir esa oportunidad de oro, y sacarle el máximo provecho. Es responsabilidad nuestra pelear con los filisteos en todo momento; pero cuando el propio Señor sale delante de nosotros, entonces hemos de ser especialmente valientes en la guerra. La brisa sacudió las copas de los árboles, y David y sus hombres tomaron esto como la señal para una arremetida, y en su avance el Señor, Él mismo, hirió a los filisteos. ¡Oh, que en este día el Señor nos abra una puerta para hablar de Él con muchos de nuestros amigos! Hemos de velar para aprovechar la oportunidad esperanzadora cuando llegue. Quién sabe si este pudiera ser un día de buenas noticias; un tiempo de ganar almas. Debemos mantener nuestro oído abierto para oír el susurro del viento, y nuestras mentes listas para obedecer la señal. ¿No es esta promesa: “porque Jehová saldrá delante de ti”, un estímulo suficiente para que actuemos valientemente? Puesto que el Señor sale delante de nosotros, no nos atrevemos a retroceder. De la Chequera del Banco de la Fe de C.H. Spurgeon, Traducción de Allan Román

[haldenlith]

... I just went through and counted how many different storylines and OCs I have, either via writing or RP, and... *sigh* I have too many.

With my novel that I’m working on: main characters are Athenos and Mari. Then there’s side characters I’m still hashing out.

Then there’s Sunrise Omega, which I was intending to do in comic format, but who knows if/when that will ever happen. That’s got six main characters, but so far I’ve only ever drawn two: Tomorrow, and Apollo.

THEN we get into video game MCs. Dragon Age has Kesell Surana and Ithriel Lavellan, though I’ve only drawn Kes. Baldur’s Gate 3 has Tannivh. Destiny 2 has Hal.

Oh god, the Kesell picture is so old and looks so bad. I really need to redo that one so bad.

AND THEN we get into RP, which has a split. First is my freeform RP stuff, where me and my friend get to make up the setting, rules, and everything. You want to know how many OCs I have here? 15, and I’m probably forgetting someone. And those have separate universes and timelines. Shit, technically I have more than that because some characters exist in a multiverse and so there are two versions of them.

So many uncolored sketches... and this is only the characters I have pictures for.

Then, there’s my tabletop stuff, where I play in a World of Darkness mini-game (it’s just me and a friend -- the other players fell through). This is where shit gets confusing because they’re all ports of my original characters. Luckily, not everyone ports well, so there aren’t as many. 10, not counting any little NPCs created for stuff.

The only ones I’ve drawn for WoD. Kym is the only pictured repeat, since he does look different between the two. He’s still a dour bastard of a vampire in both.

And lastly, there’s my straggler from a world I had in my head back when I was in school for game dev stuff (before I decided maybe I didn’t want to make video games), Asir.

That’s 37-ish. ... I have too many characters, and my brain keeps thinking up more.

Edit: You’re more than welcome to ask me about any of these disasters. They’re all disasters, in some way. Well, except maybe Razel.

[blackypanther9]

Part 24 - Ash

In Asgard...

Thor searched everywhere for Ash. Soon he saw him, training with Fandral. He had black hair, muscly built body, fought good with swords and daggers, had dark skin and wore a silver armor. His eyes were brown and his lips pale pink.

"FANDRAL !!! JOSEF !!", Thor yelled.

They stopped training and jogged over to him.

"Thor ! What is it ?", Fandral asked.

"Do you mind, if I take Josef from you for a while ?", Thor asked his friend.

"No. Absolutely not ! Take him. I will take a break."

"Thank you my friend."

Then Thor looked at Josef/Ash.

"Follow me. We have to talk."

"Yes my Prince.", Josef/Ash replied.

They walked far away from prying ears and soon Thor forced Josef/Ash to sit down.

"Enough plays here, Ash Aki Dust.", Thor demanded.

"My Prince ? I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Ash. Stop pretending. Your sister told me everything. You faked your name and left them all alone, never caring about their well - being. Destiny Andrea Aki Dust. Right ?"

Ash's eyes went wide.

"But...she never knew ! No one of us told her ! How did she ?!"

"Mother told her, as she was dying...Mother saved her, because Daniela begged Heimdall to help safe her sister. She asked of Mother to give you greetings, saying that your name was Ash Aki Dust...but she said she just knew about a Josef Vow. Son of Aki Vow. She was hurt and in the end told her sister. She also said that it wasn't important to send you greetings then."

He looked at him in horror.

"She was dying ?! My little sister, Destiny, was dying ?!"

"Yes. She was. She got beated up badly in school and her little sister, Daniela, saved her. Then Destiny was in the hospital and the doctors said that she will not make it."

"And then she begged for Heimdall to help...How did she get in contact with him ?"

"Calling his name."

"Oh..."

He looked down and had tears in his eyes. He left his sisters all alone and bathed in glory in Asgard...How could he ?! He promised !

"What is it, you need to know ?"

"She told us, she is 4 creatures...but only told us 3. What is the 4th, Ash ? It is important."

"Well...Mom is part Frost Giant and part Demon. And Father is part Asir and...part Fire Demon.", he said.

Thor stared at Ash.

"Your parents abused your little sister, did you know ? Daniela was safe, but Destiny wasn't. She protected her little sister and killed a boy, who wanted to undress her and maybe even rape her. Your parents didn't listen to them and...they hit her. Destiny changed. I believe, if you return, you wouldn't recognize her as your little sister, you left behind. Tora is also gone missing for 8 years now. Destiny goes through nightmares and blames herself. She fights against many people, to keep herself and her little sister safe, while you are having your life up here."

"You..you met her ?"

"My Brother, Loki, did. He found her. He is friends with her and she trusts him, hardly, but she trusts him. She told him everything with time and he told us. The Avengers and me. You messed up. She hates you and your parents and slowly even Daniela."

Ash's head snapped up at that.

"Why ?"

"Because Aki wants to bring Daniela to Asgard, but not Destiny. He wants to leave her behind."

Ash covered his mouth in shock and disbelief.

"He would never ! Dest is family ! I swore that she will come here soon !"

"When was that, Ash ? Your little sister is already 18 and lost hope in all of you."

"18 years already ?! I left as she was 4 years old..."

"Time flies by, little one. Destiny is not happy. She is...beyond broken I believe.”

Ash looked away in shame.

"She wants to get rid of Daniela, so she will go to Asgard. She thinks that it is...her fate. To be the lonely Dust. She accepted her fate already. Ash...you have to help me. What can it be, that killed Destiny so hard ? Is there anything, you know about her, that we don't ? Sickness, pain, secrets ? Anything ?"

Ash looked at him and shook his head.

"I do not know. She was born with a soul. Unlike I was."

"What do you mean, Ash ?"

"...Well...Destiny was born with a vessel. A soul. I wasn't. I was soulless and had to take lives, to create myself a vessel and soul. It took time to form one, but now I have an own vessel."

"Took time ?"

"Well some souls I took, crumbled away and I had to get another, to keep the others intact. Soon I had them all complete and they merged into my own soul. I had feelings, real ones and finally lived a real life, with colors."

"Can it be taken away ? A born soul ?"

"No. Not that I know of."

Thor nodded, not happy about that answer. It just means that there is a possibility.

"Is she reacting aggressive ?", Ash asked worried.

"Very.", Thor answered.

"Then something must have happened to her. Most likely her soul."

"She said 4 creatures, 1 personality each. Do you know anything about this ?"

"Yes. I have the same. The creatures are all one personality. Means that she has 4 souls within her to turn to, if she is beyond broken herself and needs time to heal. They always talk to you and give you advices. So do mine."

Thor's eyes widened.

"She said that it hurts. They always tell her bad, evil things."

"No. That can't be her normal creatures. That must be something else, but I do not know what."

"So you know nothing more ?"

"I am afraid not, my Prince..."

"That is alright. You helped me enough anyway. I have to return to Loki and tell him, what I know."

"Can I come with and help ?"

Thor looked at him a little surprised.

"Well...we can try. Come with me."

Ash nodded and did as told.

Time to make something right. Time to help his sisters.

Masterlist HERE !

[keevansixx]

Et Tu...Elohim?

 Ahh, welcome welcome...do have a seat...I'm so very pleased you accepted my humble invitation, and i'm quite certain you have millions of questions floating around in you head that will be answered in the course of time, but for the interim, I will start by saying this....

Someone, glancing up at the heavens in distant longing, once penned the phrase "We are all made of stars.." never realizing how close to the ancient truth they truly were. And if they were ever privy to what really happened those many tragic millennia ago, the burden of that knowledge would surely drive anyone to  madness. and a slow debilitating self inflicted death.

That's why human rationalization came up with all the stories, tales, myth, and legends. Not as an entertaining tool to while away a long winter's frigid spell, or frighten young children into eating their sprouts and greens, but as a way to remember those old truths long since dead and buried...

Sadly, the old ways have been filtered down throughout the ages by untold countless orators, each handing a story down from eldest to youngest through the passages of time, until the original truths, that were such basis of those stories, were buried under the fanciful machinations of each speakers time, or frame of reference to such a degree, that any such ancient wisdom to be gleaned was long since altered from it's original intent, into fanciful flights of creative imagination that serve now more as a guide to future humans, a bit of entertaining fluff with moral lessons, than as a warning of things to come, or what has been, and ever shall be again.

What I am about to tell you is of utmost importance to prepare you for what is yet to come. You may call them prophesies, soothsaying, mad unhinged ramblings, or whatever terminology you may deem fit to interpret as you see best, and to create a frame of reference that your mind can somewhat comprehend (or at least reasonably accept to some degree) and hopefully, somewhere in this exchange, you will find the resolve to see the great work fulfilled, and finally close the last chapter of this story for good.

Ahh, I see your puzzled expression, and assure you everything is quite alright for the moment, be at peace...no need to fret just so yet...all is well...but first, as all ancient decorum dictates, needs must come an introduction, followed by an explanation, a choice, and finally...if all goes swimmingly...hope.

Who am I?, you ask. Well...lets just say, for simplicities sake, that I have existed for a very very long time. Far longer than you've known recorded history to exist, and if I were to divulge the actual truth of the matter, you would think me insane, and most likely storm off in a flurry of self righteous indignation, then report me to the nearest psychological institution as a raving lunatic who needs saving from itself afore someone gets hurt. Let me assure you, I'm neither insane, going insane, nor inclined to prance naked through the gardens at midnight during a full moon (though, I would highly recommend trying the latter exercise at least once or twice in your lifetime as it is highly a soul cleansing liberating experience to free oneself from the constraints of polite society every now and then.) and am most astoundingly sane, given my personal knowledge of events that have transpired before, and one day, shall be again.

If I had to place a label on my existence (as the human animal is often want to do) I would say that I am a watcher....the last man on the wall, the keeper of the arcane, the wise old bastard in the shadows, that old person sitting on the street corner with the little small dog...with the hat on the pavement and the tiny sign begging for change, the alchemist, the weaver, the dreamer, the wordsmith, the alpha, the bard, the Sassenach, Oracle, doomsayer, destroyer of dreams, the original nightmare, the balance, the harlequin, or any number of descriptive titles they've used to understand the knowledge I possess down through the ages....but for simplicities sake, for the time being....you can call me Adam....

Now that the introductions are formally met, it is high time I explain to you the nature of why you are here, how you came to find me, and hopefully....a choice.

It all starts with a simple phrase told throughout history from the oldest to youngest with the magical incantation...."Once upon a time...."

 Once upon a time, before things became written down, and the stories altered beyond what was true, there was a little blue gem of a world orbiting a small star. Nestled in the outer regions of a young galaxy at war with itself, this tiny world became the nexus of a great conflict.

Oh, it never started out as such...for a long time, it simply existed. Turning from a fiery amalgamation of dust and stone, to a lush living world capable of supporting life in all it's splendor. As time passed, the young world was visited by beings from afar, and as each one came and went, they left their small marks upon the young earth, leaving behind traces of themselves everywhere they touched down. As I said, war had come to the little blue gem in the middle of nowhere, as it had for billions of years on countless other worlds. Those races in conflict had used the earth as a waystation many times on their way to other parts of the galaxy. Sometimes they fought, many times they died, and every trace of them crumbled to the dust and ash of a young planet as if they had never been.

I could go on, recounting all the little changes their petty wars wrought upon the earth, but quite frankly, that would take more years in the telling than you have left upon this plane of existence, and I'm a little pressed for time this century, so I'll gloss over the boring bits, and try to keep it as simple as I can for you to understand....now where was I?

Ahhh, yes....a great cosmic war, and in the center of this region of the galaxy, the earth. now, at this point in time, I must point out that at the height of this great war, many races existed upon the surface of the earth.....not because they wanted to, mind you...but because this planet offered much in the way of rest and recovery (not to mention basic resources) from an endless pointless war. Think of it as somewhat of a truce...a sort of cold war pact between races that they would not try to annihilate each other while stopping on their way to the next big battle. Of course, sometimes things don't always go according to plan, and accidents do happen from time to time, but I digress...The earth became a sort of neutral ground for conflicting species. They, somewhat begrudgingly, existed upon this planet, before your ancestors learned to walk erect, and pick up sticks to dig grubs out of the ground.

That's where I sort of come into our little tale, you see, an accident of sorts, not out of spite nor malice, but a simple miscalculation that set me upon my current path. And the reason I say it is "our tale" is because sometimes... things happen for no reason at all other than sheer chance. It was sheer chance that humans encountered pathogens that altered their DNA, It was blind luck that out of the myriad billions of pathogens carried from distant worlds to ours, humans encountered the ones that started them on the path to sentience. You could call it fate, or destiny, or divine order......whatever gives you comfort and helps you to sleep soundly at night. But the harsh truth of humanity is.... we were an accident created by hands not our own, and when the other races learned of our existence, believe me, there was hell to pay. Some of the races wished to exterminate the entire species strain, for they saw us not as new lifeforms worthy of preservation, but a perversion of their own genetics, blaming each other for the "accident" and wishing to reconcile the matter before the contamination was irreversible. Other races saw us as a potential, or means to an end, wishing to nurture the new species like a proud parent holding a newborn for the first time, and then there were races ambivalent to humanity in general, wishing to neither help, nor harm, the new flesh whatsoever. They sort of tolerated humanity much like an elderly couple shaking their canes and telling children to "keep off their lawn".

This went on for quite a very long time, relatively speaking, humans existing underfoot of stellar beings, all the while learning from each new experience, from the stone age, to antiquity. I like to remember that early age as the age of myth and legend.  You see, that's where many of our oldest stories started from...humans seeing things they cannot explain, and trying to place into words the things they seen while walking hand in hand with life not of this world.

I could tell you of the fair folk.....I think your stories called them "the Fey" or "the Aes Sidhe" such creative license you lot prescribed to them, when in all truthfulness, yes... they were beautiful (at least by human reckoning), yes... they were powerful (of course, back then it was easy to misinterpret all technology as a form of magic.) but they were also arrogant, cruel, spiteful, and clever....when they finally left earth in their stern viewports to pursue other targets, I breathed a slight sigh of relief....and wished they never to return. For all they did, and didn't do, humans still worship them like some misguided child, never knowing the horrors that could have been inflicted on them in those early days. Though, to be fair, there were a few that I had wished stayed behind, they were not like their counterparts, and viewed humanity with whimsy, bringing laughter and joy wherever they roamed....I miss those moments.

I could tell you of the Asir, but then again, I assume you are familiar with all the scandanavian myth and legends surrounding them. Warlike, fierce, proud....when they fought amongst the stars, worlds broke and shattered, stars dimmed with their passing. As with all things, they too, moved on to greener pastures and different wars, yet leaving their marks upon an impressionable young race called humanity.

Or the beings whom inhabited what you know as south America....I feared for humanity then, for those masters were not partial to us in any way, shape, or form. And when they left for their home worlds, those humans left behind in their shadow worshiped them with blood and fire, begging them to return, I hope they never do...

The Vatara, and their vimanna...I assume you are well versed in Hindu mythology? good....when their race landed upon the earth, the wars were mostly over with, with a few skirmishes over the skies that made it into folklore. For the most part, their race was benevolent towards humanity, with a few notable exceptions, but then again....all those early interstellar races had their quirks, but the Vatara....well, they did it with style. 

Asian mythology? The Yi's. Yes...they too were beings from another world who came by for a visit. And like all powerful races, they came and went as they pleased. But for the most part, they were pretty neutral about the whole "humanity" thing, and they did give a few tidbits off their table to the new race on the block. I mean, paper...come on! that was sheer brilliance...without it, the humans would be still scratching away on stone walls and clay tablets. thank the Yi's for that one. 

Egyptian mythology....astronauts.

Hebrew mythology.....astronauts.

every mythology.....yep....astronauts. (I know...I know....right at this moment you've got that weird crazy haired guy pic in your minds eye holding up two hands and saying "Aliens"...and I know it sounds far fetched, and that maybe you need a strong drink and some tin foil to swaddle your head in, but they are not all wrong in their assumptions. I'm not saying they are all absolutely right either, but the shades of truth are still there within the periphery of that narrative should you choose to chase that rabbit down the hole, so to speak.)

Let me tell you about dragons for a moment....don't laugh! you think they are all children's stories, but I've seen the real thing. beautiful, graceful, deadly...the perfect weapon for fighting a protracted aerial assault in atmosphere. They were loyal to a fault, tough as hell, and when they flew in formation it was perfection achieved. What's the difference? Well, different races...different aesthetics, for one. the beings who inhabited Asia preferred sinuous curves, and graceful lines than those of their nemesis across the continent. Asian dragons were known for their fluidity in battle, forming complex aerial patterns that were hard to beat in a dogfight. Their European counterparts were gene crafted to be stocky, hardier, more of a short term strike brawler than the long protracted aerial siege engines of the Asians. The Fey crafted thousands of their brawlers for every 10 of Yi's dragons....you think I am kidding? Kid, I've seen carnage across the skies the likes of beyond description when the Fey and the Yi had a squabble over a little patch of land that separated their regions from each other. Rivers burned, and mountains crumbled till all that remained was ash and ruin. I've seen millions dead, and smelled the stench of decay for thousands of years.

 Heh, why are there no remains of dragons in fossil record, you ask? Yeah, you'd think there would be something left, wouldn't you? You'd be dead wrong...see, the thing with a bio-weapon, is that once you start leaving stuff behind on the battlefield, your enemies could easily take that knowledge, and theoretically turn it against you, eventually. That's why they put genetic failsafe's in the code of those great beasts. Many simply burned to ash, or exploded into massive fireballs, or rotted away to nothing where they landed. Their DNA forever lost to the ravages of time. But it was something to see...way back then. Of course, after everyone left, there were a few holdout remnants of those once great beasts, making their way into mythology and folklore, and as with all things, passed away into dreams and legend....but they did exist here once upon a time. Who knows, somewhere out there beyond the stars, they may still be gliding on the thermals of distant worlds, doing what they were designed to do. I wish you could have seen them.

Look, I could tell you every interstellar race that ever came to this planet, but to make this story more concise, let's just say that every pantheon you have ever heard of, every religion you've ever seen, every story you've ever heard in your lifetime, all had a glimmer of truth buried deep within that has been altered with the passing years by human hearts telling the oldest of stories in the newest of ways. And that sliver of truth is this: they all came from the stars....and left their marks upon the human race.

Oh oh oh,....I almost forgot to tell you....the Great Experiment. Well, that's what I call it at any rate, but human mythology simply refers it by another word....Atlantis. Oh, don't roll you eyes as me young one....the great experiment came at great cost, and even greater sacrifice than you could ever imagine.

 Let me just say this....by the time of the great experiment, the wars that were raged across the cosmos were mostly over. I say mostly, because no matter how warm and fuzzy it makes you feel to think that everyone just one day dropped their armaments eventually, and shook hands, turning swords into plowshares, and singing KumBiYah around a campfire, the real history is just this....old animosities never die, they just get buried underneath diplomacy, bureaucracy, and routine, till both sides eventually forget what ever the hell they went to war for in the first place, moving on with their existences as best they can, while remaining largely distant to their neighbors in the great cosmic 'hood. Distance...makes the best fences, they always say, and so the other races tried to put as much distance between themselves as imaginatively possible, while maintaining a modicum of respectable decorum between themselves. Hence the great experiment.

 Now, you must understand that during this time, the human race had developed sufficiently, both mentally and socially, to start writing stuff down, and when ol' Plato recorded his story of Atlantis in Timaeus and Critias all those years ago, he just wasn't giving lip service to an analogy of state versus outside influences. He was 3rd partying events that actually happened, but in his own biased human way.

Atlantis was a jewel, filled with the remnants of all those interstellar races (humans included...think of us early humans as party crashers. We weren't exactly invited, but we showed up anyway, and well, they tolerated our presence without too much pretext....that's how we sort of wormed our way into their company...blind endearing curiosity, eagerness, helpfulness, all those traits that didn't annoy our interstellar visitors...so they basically let us hang and learn) whom had, as yet, to flee back to the stars or return home. It was a lovely place, filled with the kind of people you'd really love to party with given the chance, and everyone got along for the most part. There were comings and goings of a dozen or more races, as they zipped to and fro between their outposts, knowledge was exchanged freely....think of it as coin of the realm, with vast libraries cataloging the wealth of knowledge into great halls for everyone to share. There was peace and prosperity for a time, and it looked like humanity was on the fast track to join their interstellar neighbors soon, as the human race in Atlantis was like kids in a candy store, going respectfully buck wild, and soaking up the knowledge faster than a sponge, or like a kid whipping down pixie sticks with a jolt cola chaser. Damn, it was good to be alive in those days...there was peace, stability, prosperity for the human race. I could spend years perusing the stacks at the great library, and I tried to every chance I got. learning the histories of hundreds of worlds, seeing all the different technology up close and personal, meeting different races over drinks and nibbles, while dreaming of a bright and glorious future that lay before us. It was the closest thing to heaven for me, than I would ever see again.

That's when the troubles started. Seemed innocent enough at first, we were learning how to harness the atom, bending space/time to our whims, almost about to make that breakthough with fusion technology, when things went all tits up, and ended with a massive explosion and drowning beneath the waves.

Now, for the record, please don't hold humanity accountable for all that had transpired there, we were curious.....maybe a little too curious for our own good, and the other interstellar races were mostly amused at our endeavors, and for the most part helpful when they deemed it necessary to intervene on our behalf, lest we do something incredibly stupid, and accidentally crack the earth in twain from a misaligned core. But those damn Athenians! jealous bastards the lot of them...couldn't wait and play nice like the rest of humanity...nooooOOOOOoooo, they just had to be the ultimate buzzkill. *sigh* lets just say, a small party of them felt threatened at all we had accomplished there, going on about sovereignty and states rights, the rights of man, and how we Atlanteans were threatening their very existence, when all we wanted to do was party and learn, trying to be good little humans, and not step on the daffy Athenian buggerers like all the other star races had done before to humanity. When they raided the research centers and literally axed (i'm not kidding, they took an axe...a stupid bronze axe) and fractured a fusion core setting off a fatal chain reaction....the mantle moved...not rumbled, not a tremor, nor an earthquake....moved, as in Hebrew biblical Armageddon moved. Many of us made it out, but not enough for my tastes, so many lost...all that knowledge....poof....gone in one night. A lifetimes work gone in a blue/green flash because a bunch of stupid humans felt threatened. but that's life for you.....you make it to the top, only to have the proverbial rug yanked out from under you when you least expected it. The Athenians cheered, we wept, buried what remained of our dead, and moved on with our lives as best we could given the circumstances.

The party was over as far as the space faring races were concerned. and over the course of a couple of thousand years, they eventually left taking all their toys with them in the process....so much lost...

The saddest departure was of the Vatara, they championed the cause of humanity the most, as I saw the last of their beautiful vimanna exit the skies, I shed tears at their passing. The Yi's with their dragons, The Asir astride their giant war horses, their beautiful Valkyrie singing songs of old celestial battles, Yahweh and his amazing sciences. Even those beings of the central Americas....they may have been cruel, but some of them were kind, as with all the star races, and I like to think I was their friend, in some small measure, and hope they remember me fondly wherever they ended up in the cosmos. They were my friends and teachers, and I miss them....

The remnants of the Fey were the last to go. I spat on the ground, at the sight of their ships leaving the atmosphere, good riddance, they were the cruelest to humanity after Atlantis's fall. They blamed humanity for everything. The cruelest blow is when a beautiful friendship turns sour, and all that was once joyous and good turns to naught but ash in your mouth...To those Fey who were kind at the end, I beg forgiveness for the human race. We were still young then, and will make mistakes from time to time, hold not the future of our species in ill regards going forward...I cherish the fond memories we made together in the Mediterranean.

we tried again, you know...we humans....to uphold those ideals the others instilled into humanity all those centuries ago, in our own limited way of course. As each age passed, we tried again and again and again. The Babylonians, who worshiped an aerial sand skiff one of the races used to cross the desert, and left busted down outside a goat herders tent, I gave it a once over, and figured out it was a simple misalignment of the grav core due to sand fouling in the intake manifold. A couple of swift kicks to free the fouling, and the thing worked good as new...that is until that moment when that fool Marduk crashed landed it in the town square. *sigh* they thought he was a deity, and spun one hell of a yarn about the whole affair, I just shook my head and walked away.....once human get their minds wrapped around something it's almost impossible to change.

  The library at Alexandria, now that was a tragic loss....we tried so hard to reclaim a 10th of the knowledge we lost when Atlantis fell, but the human race had grown stubborn in our isolation, and everything burned....again. The wonders...monuments and structures built to honor those whom departed using ancient knowledge to craft....so much lost.

Ah, Egypt....that was a funny time....they actually thought they could build a giant radio transmitter to contact those beings out there who once occupied their lands, using geometric stone to build a transmitter...some nonsense about stellar alignment, harmonic resonance, and ridiculously huge funky radio tubes they fashioned out of silica glass, meteorite filaments,and powered by vinegar in a makeshift battery....I told them it would never work, as the power output necessary to accomplish such a task was well beyond their technological capabilities...still, had to give them points for trying (three more times, to be exact, each one crazier and bigger than the one before it).

The hanging gardens....I am sad for their passing, we tried to save every remnant of the other races unintended "gifts" to humanity. So many plants lost to time, there were even genuine cures there. The visitors genetically modified domestic plant species to meet their needs... medicines, foods the likes of which will never be seen again. At one time, whole fields of plants that served unique purposes, could be harvested, refined, turned into raw materials to fashion the most astounding things.......what...you think I got to be this old with a wave of a magic wand, and a few mumbo jumbo words? When I say cures, I mean CURES with a capital C. They made this one concoction with the roots, bark, and leaves of a beautiful heart shaped plant that was bitterly destroyed when the gardens fell. I remember at the beginning being offered a cup by the Yi's...they called it "elixir vitae" a battlefield medicine used to treat serious wounds. Humans would later go on to give it more fanciful nomenclatures as time progressed, but to most interstellar visitors, it was go go juice to keep the troops alive and fighting. It was bittersweet, burned with a pleasant warmth, and got you slightly high the more you consumed it (as Pink Floyd would later go on to sing...quite comfortably numb). I loved it, it kept me going through decades of research, and more than one close scrape or two....unfortunately, for all species involved, it had the unforeseen curious side effect of completely arresting the aging process in the human animal, saturating the cells in a chemical cocktail of cellular metabolic arresting clusterfeck that left the unfortunate human bereft of death, disease, and decay, and no longer craving normal biological sustenance. Fairy food, humans would later mythologize it, a cursed substance to be avoided lest your soul rot in damnation, and all that other superstitious nonsense. Oh, I could eat regular food if I wanted to, don't misunderstand, it's just after having consumed a substantial quantity over decades, the body no longer needed sustenance to maintain itself, just a little water now and then to keep things fresh, and everything moving in all the right ways. You may laugh, but all those stupid stories of ancient mummies were only slightly right, they weren't exactly cursed per say (depending on your point of view)....more like they were saturated with battle meds, and through their own choices decided to take a long nap in the hopes they would desiccate, wither, and disintegrate back into the dust from whence they were proverbially spawned. Tired souls who no longer wished to go on, but were too afraid to self immolate, and end it quickly. The dragon wars ended many of my fellow comrades, as they chose to go out with a blaze of glory instead of the long slow path of time. My partner and I...my partner....my.....

*pauses for a moment to wipe away an errant tear*

So....much.....lost......

Excuse me for a moment, will you? I know this seems like a fairy tale to you, the fanciful tall tale of an old dotering mad fool, but for me it only seems like yesterday. The memories fresh and vibrant like a well spring. I try to keep them in check, but sometimes my resolve wavers for a moment, and all the grief and joy, heartache and bliss, wistful longing, and humanist curiosity overwhelms me....forgive me. Just a moment longer, if you please....

*pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to massage the eons of grief from old and tired eyes. Removes an old threadbare handkerchief from a well worn pocket, and proceeds to loudly blow nose, with a slight sniffle at the end *

Thank you....Ahem, yes....now where were we? Oh? Aliens...Absolutely, they all departed in their own ways over time, leaving humanity to it's own devices. Where they are now, I haven't a clue. You see, that's the funny thing about mythology, no matter whose you happen to research on this small planet, they all share some similarity, a common thread of continuity that unites almost every one of them. Oh, the stories may change, and the characters a little different with each and every generation and in the telling, but the common denominator is still there all the same. That same warning over and over and over again....."we will return".....

You were invited here. That's the reason why we are now having this unique  conversation. Humanity is entering into a new phase of it's existence, and I need fresh eyes out there watching, waiting, detailing all the little things humanity is doing. We've become noisy....sending calling cards out into the cosmos practically screaming "HERE WE ARE!!! SUPRISE!!" and I'm still not to entirely sure that whomever is out there has forgotten us completely.

It's all the little things....strange sightings, odd random flyby's that cannot be rationally explained, sightings over south America, crop circles popping up randomly across the globe, all that tin foil crap humans scoff at, and dismiss as flights of fancy, or delusional paranoia. We tend to overlook such things as we go about oblivious to what's going on in the greater cosmos around us...but I suspect that we've slightly got the attention of things not of this world, and if we're not careful, humanity might just end up on the cosmic chopping block after all. We weren't meant to exist, yet here we are....and maybe some beings out there are still carrying a grudge after all this time. Better safe than tragically sorry, I always say... That's why you are here...

Out of the billions of souls on the planet, you and others like you, have shown that spark of human curiosity that goes beyond the pale of human normality. You dream, you seek, you create. All those things I seek in a recruit to assist me in the great work ahead. It was by no mere coincidence that you happen to have found my calling card. In the words of my dear departed friend Tolkien, "Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall..." you were chosen...as others were before you, and others still, after I am long since gone. You will become the new watchers on the wall, the patient, the dreamers, the do'ers, the makers.... you will forge new paths, and be called many new names in return. A new legacy, for a new generation of humans. They are coming...and you will be ready for the day they finally arrive.

So, it's at this juncture I offer you an opportunity....a doorway, if you so please, into a different life than the one you knew before. Oh, I could make some witty remark at this juncture about Orpheus, and be all cryptic with the whole red pill/blue pill spiel, wake up neo! bullshite, Or I could just simply offer you a drink, and a handshake.... the choice is ultimately up to you.

Before you on the table is a tome, handmade. you will find it's leaves blank. This is your book now. You will record your observations in as you see fit. Customize it as you see fit. There is no rhyme nor reason to it, just simply write....the knowledge will flow freely once you begin. It's not magic....just a higher form of technology than what you may be currently acquainted with, and will serve you well in the times ahead. I would recommend a lovely pen that would suit your needs adequately, but I surmise that you'll find something on your own in due time...

Now, to your right, on the small side table you will notice a petite glass. Within that glass is a liquid, and if you were paying attention this whole time, I surmise that you have a question to the legitimacy of that claim, as the source was long ago since lost. Let me assure you, that it is true....every word of it. The source is indeed gone. The caveat emptor being that I did manage to squirrel away a few bottles for a rainy day...I may be old, but never unwise....as I foresaw the future a millennia before you were born. I won't bore you with all the tedious details, but that brief stint on the British isles almost brought everything to wreck and ruin....I fancied myself a bit of a hand wizard in those days, foolish me. Suffice to say, wars have been fought over a single drop, and mighty civilizations toppled in their haste to acquire it. It is a dangerous gift, and should be respected as such. Don't look so apprehensive.... It's been diluted on purpose,  and you shall live a long and fulfilling life, full of the stuff of myths and legends, then you will eventually pass away, as all good things must finally come to bare when the time comes, but not before passing on what you have learned to the next watcher you choose. That is the gift I am offering. A brief pause of mortality with the freedom to explore all that was, is, and might shall be again.

*A brief pause. Fingers tapping on the armrests of the worn leather high back chair in contemplation. The pop and gentle crackle of the fire in the mantle place....a sense of self confirmation followed by an audible gulp and a smile*

Excellent! Welcome to the society *hearty handshake*, on the table to your left you will find your credentials, watch, badge, and communicator. The communicator doubles as a homing signal with GPS, all the current lovely technology and apps humans are so fond of, in case of trouble, alerting all nearby members of your location. I trust everything else is satisfactory for now, any further information can be gleaned from your tome as needed. Keep a weather eye on the horizon, and good luck.

*soft footsteps on the old carpet, as the newest explorer makes their way to the door, and a much bigger world than they knew before.*

Oh...I almost forgot...one last thing...above all else, have fun with it, and welcome to the Elohim...

  *the door closes with a soft click, leaving the tired ancient watcher alone again with his contemplation, waiting for the next soul willing to step into the unknown to cross the threshold...*

[mallowstep]

wait what was the stormfur thing

@feral-adirondacks

[mistystar rant topics]

it's this moment:

“I’ve lost Feathertail and Graystripe, and I never knew Silverstream. I have no kin left in the Clans. Even my mentor, Stonefur, is dead. Apart from Feathertail, he was the closest thing to kin that I had in RiverClan. I don’t even have a home anymore. It feels as though everything has been stolen from me, one thing after another.”

shit so i would've SWORN he said he had nothing left for him in riverclan to mistyfoot's face, but...

he does say this.

FUCKING MISTYFOOT. MISTYFOOT WAS RIGHT FUCKING THERE. SHE MENTORED YOU AFTER HE DIED. FOR LONGER THAN HIM, PROBABLY.

MISTYFOOT.

SHE'S LIKE UR SECOND FUCKING MOM DUDE.

and MOSSPELT but i don't think i have to explain how insulting this is to mosspelt, do i?

anyway stormfur's reasoning for saying.

wait a minute.

backing up hold on.

oh no i'm good ok i thought i might've written that line in itcos but i did not i had mistyfoot defend him which like ehhhhh but i also had his rationale explicitly be "he wants to stay with brook" and not "there's nothing left for him in riverclan."

he has a mom.

he has a sister.

HE HAS NIECES AND NEPHEWS AND ANOTHER YOUNGER SISTER?

and he has MISTYFOOT. y'know. was in the nursery as the same time as mosspelt mistyfoot. was his sister's mentor mistyfoot. canonically shown --- even without considering asir --- to have mentored him FAR more than greystripe mistyfoot.

fought side by side with him and featherpaw in the great battle mistyfoot.

like greystripe is CONSISTENTLY shown to not have a relationship with these kits because EVERYWHERE you think he'd have one it's mistyfoot.

but.

yeah.

right.

stormfur has no kin in riverclan.

despite the LITERAL KIN he has in riverclan.

fucking stormfur.

mistyfoot should be PISSED dude. god.

imagine you have this kit you love like a son, who your brother died for, who you helped raise, your best friend's child, your son, and he fucking.

fucking.

says he has no kin in riverclan.

fuck off, stormfur. you're a fucking ass and mistyfoot deserves an apology. you left her right after your sister left her. are you trying to strip all of her kin from the clans?

because canonically at this point, you, reedwhisker, and mothwing are some of the only cats she has left. there's...blackclaw...kind of..., there's leopardstar according to leopardstar, there's the cats mistyfoot grew up with, but like. in terms of kin? you're one of two or three cats who are kin.

(two-or-three bc misty & moth's relationship isn't really explored and i try to avoid my own headcanons in meta, but you get the sense that there's a close relationship between them we just aren't shown when you look at their novellas.)

anyway yeah stormfur should get slapped for this

[itsmorganahawkes]

secreto mejor guardado

fulfftober

La lluvia caía en medio de aquel lugar. Angele había creído de manera ingenua que aquella misión sería fácil, algo de entrada y salida, debía admitir que hacer misiones en el lugar de la base no solía ser algo frecuente desde que se había convertido en sargento, habían otras cosas más importantes, pasando en distintos lados del mundo, mientras los tres abordaban un avión a un destino determinado, los demás se quedarían atrás.

——Wah, probablemente los Romanos crearon miles de acueductos para conducir el agua de lluvia, ¿no crees?

Angele hablaba, o solía hablar, de temas variados durante esas rondas. Sky solía callarse, o solamente darle miradas mordaces, confundidas o resginadas, sin embargo ese día era la primera vez que le había dado una sonrisa en retorno. Podría ser a causa de sus incesantes palabras, o quizá el hecho de que su turno estaba a punto de terminar, pero eso le dió algo de alegra interna. Angele ya tenía un repertorio de chistes terribles para contarlos de vez en cuando.

Los caudales de agua le empapaban hasta la punta de sus botas, probablemente tendría que volver a la oficina a darse un baño y tomar algo de ropa seca antes de que cachase un resfriado, miró a Sky de reojo antes de que un ruido rompiese el aura que llevaban hasta ahora.

——Mierda.——Maldijo Angele, al tiempo que tornaba la vista, comunicándose solamente con un asentimiento seco para Sky.——Cubre el perímetro de la calle 52 con el equipo mientras yo voy por el otro lado. Rendez-vous aquí en cinco.

Sky asintió, mientras iba con su séquito de tres reclutas jóvenes. Angele se las podría arreglar por si misma, caminaba a grandes zancadas, con la pistola entre sus dos manos, le agarraba con una firmeza particular: su puntería era semi-perfecta, algo que habían recalcado sus evaluadores desde que llegó a OMEGA. No pudo evitar pensar en que algo malo pasaría, sin embargo tendría su mente tranquila, pensando en que habrían pasado cosas mucho peores que enfrentarse a cualquier criminal en ese momento. Escuchó un disparo, seguido de otro, el escuadrón le había atrapado: pero no a todos. Un hombre de mediana edad salió corriendo por el callejón que ella cubrió, oh, ¡la había armado! La rubia le persiguió con agilidad, maldiciendo la lluvia y sus suelas resbalosas; sin embargo sacó energías de dónde no tenía para lograr asir a al criminal.

——No creas que te vas a escapar tan fácil, connard.——Murmuró, el tipo se escabulló saltando una gran reja, la chica le siguió, sin embargo no contó con que él le tendía una trampa: Angele resbaló en un charco que le dobló el tobillo, lanzó un montón de cajas en dirección a ella, logrando detenerle.

No podría dispararle, iba en contra de las reglas, solamente le vio desaparecer entre la lluvia mientras ella yacía en el suelo. No podría levantarse tan rápido o podría echar a perder alguna extremidad, por lo que remaneció en el suelo, confortándose con la idea de que el otro escuadrón estaría bien. Miró su reloj de pulso, probablemente se había atrasado y volvería al cuartel por su cuenta. Permaneció sentada, hasta que pudo ponerse en pie, con una leve rengera que probablemente le costaría un día en la enfermería. Se apoyó en el muro contiguo.

——¡DOROTHEA!

La voz de Sky perforó el frío de la lluvia, el clima denso, su voz sonaba desesperada: al borde del colapso. No era el Willame que conocía, y en realidad ello le perturbo un poco. Chasqueó la lengua mientras caminaba en dirección a su voz, aún sosteniéndose del muro, caminó hasta su encuentro, viéndole de espaldas.

——Willame.——Dijo ella, en su tono normal, aunque algo extrañada. Curvó las cejas, a punto de preguntarle que había pasado, antes de que sus palabras se viesen cortadas por el beso agresivo del mayor. Angele no alcanzó a cerrar los ojos, o si quiera a corresponderle, pero era un choque de adrenalina que le dejó pasmada. Su corazón latió con fuerza, quiso tomar su rostro y empujarle hacia sí, pero estaba demasiado sorprendida como para hacer alguna acción o emitir palabra. Sus labios sabían a lluvia, también a desesperación, con un toque de café, era... Perfecto, ¿e irreal? Angele había tenido muchos besos a lo largo de su vida, pero nunca esperó que él tomase la iniciativa, no así. Él se separó después de unos segundos, la cara de la francesa parecía un verdadero poema.

——D-debemos regresar.

Masculló, recuperando parte del aliento que él le había arrebatado. Sky caminó en silencio por un momento, el silencio que ella no pudo evitar romper, antes de vislumbrar el cuartel de OMEGA.

——Es... es un secreto lo que acaba de ocurrir, ¿no?

Cuestionó, más para sí misma que para él. Sky asintió, con expresión rígida.

——Sí, sargento Castillon... Hay que tener discreción.

La rubia apretó los labios mientras asentía, queriendo que la tierra se la tragase en ese momento. En definitiva pensaría en ese beso en la noche, mientras tomaba un baño caliente, viendo como el agua sucia se quitaba de su piel, pero.. No quitaría nunca la sensación de los labios de Sky en los suyos. No tenía filtro, o alguna restricción de las que solía poner él siempre, era libre: voraz, desesperado. En su mente ella hubiese correspondido, de no ser por la distancia que de algún modo interponían entre los dos.