#petrichor volume 2

[namtans-jean-jacket]

ran and tul are so obsessed w each other I'm so excited to see them in englot form

[diodellet]

what can i do for you? (jamil viper x gn!reader*)

i am not ok after seeing jamil's clubwear SSR. when he dropped, i ended up dropping an extra 2k words for this chapter. sige na nga, ill give u more fluff and bliss ser viper🤧 content warnings: -anachronistic (it is set during the main story of twst, but no references to overblots) -g/n reader described as having thick, long, not-straight hair -mix of jp and en terms -gratuitous headcanoning of how nrc classes work -light references to nightmares and bullying word count: 7.1k words chapter 1: just let me do this for you

chapter 2: take my hand like you mean it

You were a capable set of extra hands, to Jamil's surprise. Well, as long as you weren't put in front of a stove. Chores that were usually tedious, like mopping and waxing the floors of certain hallways in the dorm, feeding the animals and cleaning their enclosures—in this case, removing the curtains and draperies that decorated the lounge area for laundry—took more or less have the usual time it required.

"Can you reach it?"

"I don't think so... I'm going to jump—"

"Don't jump!" His hold on the stepladder tightened as you stood up on your tiptoes.

You grunted, stretching your arm out to unhook the cloth. "But I'll be able to reach it that way..."

"Just let me do it—" A section of the scarlet cloth fell on top of him. He pulled it away to see your sheepish expression. "Never mind, get down from there."

You carefully climbed down, immediately going to pick up the other hand of the curtain and helping him fold it. Then, the both of you moved to repeat the process for the rest of the draperies in the lounge.

The golden rays of the afternoon sun streamed into the room, now unhindered from the lack of curtains. You paused to stare out into the surroundings, not one bit bothered by the heat. In fact, you seemed to soak up the warmth. The serene expression that washed over your features was quickly replaced with mild discomfort.

“If you’re tired, you can leave the rest of it to me,” Jamil said, snapping you out of your reverie.

You shook your head, folding the curtain in half and stepping closer to pass your end to him. “I’m good, I’m good. I just…” Your fingers carded through the ends of your ponytail. “Does it ever rain here? I know rain in the desert is a thing, but if the dorms are like a sort of pocket dimension, then does it follow regular weather?”

Sometimes, Kalim liked to make it rain. Whenever he saw the plants in the gardens wilting, whenever they trekked out to a dried-up oasis, whenever he heard his fellow dormmates complaining about the dry heat of Scarabia. Jamil didn’t have any strong feelings for rain, but a part of him—the part that was stubbornly curious about you, felt as if the question wasn’t one from random inquiry. 

“It does, occasionally. The weather is independent from the main campus though, if that’s what you’re asking.” He started walking towards the laundry area, carrying the folded-up curtains.

“...Huh, cool.” You trailed behind him, your arms were swallowed up by the sheer volume of fabric. “I think I prefer sunny weather though. Reminds me of home.”

What was your hometown like in your original world? Did you come from a place that was always bright with sunlight? Or were you more used to the persistent scent of petrichor, to cloudy gray skies? Though if he asked, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to give much of an answer.

“That’s nice. Watch your step.” As soon as he said that, you stumbled, foot catching on the trailing ends of the curtain. He shifted what he was carrying to one hand and caught you by the back of your uniform’s jacket. 

You quickly righted yourself and apologized, “sorry, um. Thank you.” You ran your gaze along the part of the fabric you stepped on as you gathered it into your arms once again.

“It’s going to be washed anyway.” Jamil let go of your blazer. The use of the upperclassman honorific in place of his name slowly became more frequent with each visit, he noted.

Ironic, seeing as how you were completely at ease with him during your first meeting.

In the laundry area, hampers containing his and Kalim’s used clothes were already sitting there. He figured he could kill two birds with one stone, and do it at the same time. 

The curtains were vacuumed every week, but it had been a while since they were properly cleaned. And in a place as sandy as the Scarabia dorm, they were pretty much due for a washing. While the fabric didn’t contain designs as elaborate as the ones that decorated the Asim estate, it was still provided by said family. Tailored, not manufactured, for the renovated dorm and worth more than what he would ever amount to. He sorted through the fabrics, which ones were good to throw into the laundry machine and which ones had to be strictly washed by hand.

He nodded towards the latter. “I’ll handle these.” 

“Is this too much detergent?” 

“You could use a little more.” 

Another thing he noticed about you, was that you were, for lack of a better word, quiet. Rarely did you ever ask questions about how to do or where to find things, only needing a glance around the room. He initially attributed it to the fact that you spent a large chunk of your first days here fixing up your dorm to be at least livable, to make the most of your meager belongings. But behind the awkwardly polite demeanor you wore, there was an experienced and practiced characteristic to how you carried out your work. The kind that was ingrained into muscle memory after years. 

When you were alone, did your shoulders sag with bone-deep exhaustion? Did you ache from constant daily exertion? And if he were to hold your hand, would he feel the remnants of calluses and blisters?

“Did…did I do something wrong?” you asked, before closing the machine and letting it run its cycle.

“No, you didn’t.” He brought out a small stool for you to sit on.

Jamil could feel the weight of your gaze prickling the back of his neck. You spoke up after a few seconds of silence,  “do you need help with that?”

“No, I can manage this.” In fact, he could make quick work of it. There weren’t any stains that he needed to remove, for once. He filled an empty basin with water and let the fabric soak in the detergent.

“Alright…” you acquiesced, leaning your elbows on your thighs and resting your chin on your palms.

The rumble of the machines, combined with the slosh of water filled the room. Not that he was the most interesting conversationalist to be with, but he was grateful for the ambient noise.

“It’d be nice… if we had our own washing machine for Ramshackle,” you blurted out.

Jamil supposed that the once-abandoned dorm was equipped with all the necessary amenities during its time of use. But if you and Grim were the newest and only living residents, then— “Did Headmaster Crowley not replace the dorm’s appliances?” He rolled up his sleeves before rinsing out the draperies. If he wasn’t careful, he could tear the delicate cloth.

At your silence, he turned to glance at you, meeting your gaze. You gave a slow shake of your head before turning back to watch the machine in front of you. “I had to do it by hand at first—which is fine! Completely fine with me, actually—but everything in that dorm was on the verge of collapse. I kinda feel scared to touch it.”

“If you’re looking for a place to do your laundry…” This wasn’t the place to do it. He was up to his neck in responsibilities, spontaneous and planned. He gave the contents one last rinse then deemed it clean enough to be dried, emptying the basin and wringing out the fabrics.

“Hm? Oh, no, I mean, the ghosts showed me how to use it.” You pondered on your next words, standing up to take the freshly laundered fabrics out. “I just…think that getting a new one would end up erasing what they taught me.”

“The ghosts have been around for a long time. They’re more than used to seeing people come and go.” He flicked the water off his hands.  “what more for a broken machine?”

Your head tilted to the side. “...I guess so. ”

The room fell into silence once more as he hung the finished laundry on a metal drying rack.

“We still need to hang these outside.” He tossed a set of clothespins into a basket before passing it to you. The both of you left the laundry area, stepping outside. The clear, sunny weather showed no signs of diminishing and there was a pleasant breeze. With the area he chose, he wouldn’t have to worry about sand and dust getting kicked up by the wind.

“Henchmaaan!”

Your head searched for Grim spotting him bounding towards you on all fours. You threw the curtain over the clothesline before catching him in your arms. “What’s wrong? Where’s Kalim?”

“I dunno and I don’t care, let’s go back home!" Jamil guessed that even Grim had his limits.

At those words, he could hear the dorm leader’s voice calling out for Grim.

"Gyah, you gotta hide me!" He burrowed into your jacket, pitchfork-shaped tail jutting out.

You shared a look with Jamil, confusion furrowing your brow. “Did…something bad happen—ow, Grim your nails!”

“Probably not.” Jamil said as he clipped another curtain onto the line. The fabric billowed in the wind, the finely-spun thread catching the rays of sunlight. He stole a glance at you, standing on the opposite side of the clothesline. Grim was balancing on your shoulders as you talked to him.

“If you made him angry—” Kalim and the word ‘angry’ in the same sentence? That would have been something to see, Jamil thought to himself. “—you’re going to have to apologize to him,” you said as you straightened out another piece of fabric before hanging it.

“He’s…he’s not mad!” Grim protested, tail flicking back and forth. “But he kept taking me everywhere and pinching my tail, and I had enough!”

That sounded like something Kalim would do. His ears then picked up the sound of his footsteps, combined with the sounds of his accessories and jewelry clinking and chiming.

“There you are, Grim!” There goes Jamil’s two hours of solace and quiet.

Grim wailed, hiding behind your legs and putting you squarely in between him and Kalim. “I don’t wanna go with you!”

“Um…if you don’t mind me asking,” There it was again, the use of that honorific in place of Kalim’s name. “What happened a while ago?” Your hands picked at your fingers.

The dorm leader explained that the fire-monster got bored of studying, so Kalim suggested a few fun things they could do around the dorm. It started out with a few board games, followed by a visit to the animals, and then just before he could take Grim on a spontaneous flying carpet ride, the fire-monster ran away to find you. That meant Jamil had to do some extra cleanup after he finished putting away the laundry. Great.

“Oh, I see...” Your confusion didn’t let up but you continued without losing a beat, “so, while I—we appreciate your kind intentions, I think that’s my cue to help Grim study… Maybe you could take him flying next time?” 

Kalim nodded in understanding. “Next time then. Oh! By the way, I’m throwing a party this weekend, we could do it then! Would you like to come?”

Your fidgeting paused. “It sounds fun, I just… I wouldn’t know anyone there?” It was clear you didn’t want to go.

“But you know me, and you know Jamil. And Grim can come along too!”

“...Um…I don’t—I guess I do, but…” Your gaze momentarily flicked to Jamil then back to Kalim.

He took your hands in his, eyes shining with undeterred excitement. “The food’ll be good! And, and, I could introduce you to my other friends too! It’ll be fun, I promise!” Guess Jamil had to step in.

“Kalim. They’re probably going to be busy on the weekend.” Or, from what he gathered, you just didn’t seem very extraverted. Surprisingly, he still had an iota of patience that he could inject into his tone. “Just invite them another time, when their schedule’s freed up.”

Thankfully, the dorm leader let go of your hands and didn’t push any further. “Just tell me when, and I’ll make sure to plan something for you, alright?”

You only gave him a stiff smile in acknowledgement. 

Truth be told, Jamil didn’t plan on letting you continue to visit. At first, you would always get lost in the dorm, somehow ending up in a room on the complete opposite end of where you were trying to get to. And since Grim would always accompany you, the more the fire monster grew comfortable to his new after school hangout spot, the more of a menace he became. Your time went into chasing Grim around Scarabia, keeping him away from the kitchens while Jamil was cooking. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if you reached the point of having to babysit Kalim as well. 

He could go on and on with his nitpicking, but none of it could take away from the fact that you were efficient. Somehow, you managed to take away a portion of the work that burdened him everyday.

[...]

Apparently, he wasn’t completely right about your ability to efficiently manage your studies.

His class was in the library, doing some preliminary research for a paper to be submitted later in the semester. He sat on one of the outer seats of the table his group was using. They were situated in a relatively quiet section of the library. Most of the noise came from the tables near the entrance and the sections with the resources that were most appropriate for the paper’s subject matter. 

Said noise and chatter would only grow louder with the arrival of a first-year class. Jamil could hear the librarian already admonishing them. What Jamil would give to be able to throw on his headphones. He flipped the page of the book he was reading. A few passages proved to be somewhat promising, he took note of the important points, condensing them for easy reference—

“Grim! That’s not the right map!”

Something clattered noisily on the table. “Whaat? I was doing it exactly like you told me.” 

“No…no, it’s wrong, it’s—we have to redo it, all of it.” The frantic flutter of papers combined with Grim’s drawn-out whine.

“Actually, I think you guys forgot about the time zone, it’s not on Sage Island remember?” Ace cut in.

“Argh, I forgot about that—” A thud against the table surface interrupted your words. Any louder, and Jamil supposed that the librarian would materialize right at your side.

“Guys, the librarian’s looking at us…” Deuce’s voice wasn’t that much quieter than yours, but at least he wasn’t completely ignoring his surroundings.

Your voice lowered to a non-discreet whisper. “What does your solution look like?”

“I got this for my answer.” Your group fell silent, reading over his work.

Ace then spoke up, “...ohh. It looks correct—hey, don’t start crying on the paper!”

“I’m gonna—we’re gonna fail, I don’t get it, I don’t get any of it—” 

“Why do we need to manually calculate this? Can’t we just use that fancy crystal ball like the teacher does?” Grim complained.

Ah, first-year Astrology. Now your group’s reaction made sense.

“Hey, those freshmen are starting to be pretty annoying. Should I tell them off?” Jamil’s gaze moved from the book to his classmate. He noticed that he was the only person who had an open book, everyone else was either on their phones or leaning closer to continue in hushed voices.

“Ugh, I was waiting for someone to say something about them.” 

“If you don’t do it, I’m gonna complain to the librarian. See how they like gettin’ thrown out into the hall…”

Without making a sound, Jamil pushed his chair back and left the table. Moved two—no, four shelves down to be away from the confrontation when it happened. Not that the distance did anything to lessen the fact that he could still hear the short screech of the chairs being pushed back, whispers slowly growing into an argument, Grim hissing as a warning—

That didn’t concern you. He pushed it out of his mind, put all his focus into scanning the titles along the shelf. A memoir from an author who was prominent in the connected field of study, a collection of similar studies published under NRC, his group could use these. He tucked the books under his arm and went to the front desk. “Excuse me, I would like to borrow these,” he said, setting them down on the wooden surface and filling out the cards at the back.

The irate expression on the librarian’s face didn’t let up. The force of him stamping the cards was strong enough to make the desk shake. But judging from the bits of quiet angry muttering that Jamil could hear, the librarian didn’t seem to have any plans of approaching the area where your group was located. He passed the books back to Jamil and waved him off.

The commotion didn’t seem to have escalated too badly by the time he returned. His groupmates were now just talking about their afterschool plans, counting the minutes until they were dismissed. One of his classmates’ tie was crooked, the collar of his shirt wrinkled possibly from being grabbed. Another was cradling a fresh scratch mark along his wrist. Jamil glanced over to your group’s table—Deuce was going over a worksheet with you. You were absentmindedly scratching the base of Grim’s ear. And Ace was leaning back in his chair. The look in his irises didn’t match his relaxed demeanor—their eyes met and Jamil only gave a small nod in greeting before he busied himself with arranging his belongings.

The rest of Jamil’s day went on without much issue. As soon as afternoon training concluded, he was surprised to see Kalim waiting for him so they could walk back to Scarabia together. The conversation was light, nothing noteworthy. Kalim knew how to speak for two people, he could make a conversation out of anything and carry it for seemingly forever. The problem only started when he would get caught up in his excitement, and since Jamil was talking about Kalim, this happened on a regular basis. Complaining about it wouldn’t amount to anything.

As he changed into his dorm uniform, his phone buzzed. You tended to message right before going through the mirror. The gesture of…courtesy started to make less sense the more your visits became a regular thing. It was still convenient, don’t get him wrong. Though… maybe it was just a bit weird, the more he thought about it. 

He read over his reply twice and sent it before going to meet you at the dorm’s entrance.

[...]

“Henchman, y’have to try this!” Grim hopped off the kitchen’s tabletop and trotted over to you.

“Grim, we have to head back before six so I can tea—” Your sentence was cut off by the fire-monster pushing his half-eaten pita wrap into your face. You took a bite and made a pleased sound before going, “wait Grim it’s too spicy—!”

Jamil handed you a glass of water. He saw Grim pour an obscene amount of sauce over his serving. Not that you would know, having just returned from replacing the vacuum cleaner. He would’ve insisted that he should be the one to do it, but Kalim and Grim started bugging him for something to eat. And Grim, unbridled menace that he was, wouldn’t shut up unless his demands were met. 

Kalim chimed into the conversation, “are you going back that soon?”

“Yeah?” You knocked a fist against your chest, stifling another coughing fit. “Well, I—we don’t wanna impose… so we’ll leave early.” You took another drink of water then wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Aww, but I don’t wanna study Astrology…”

“But I’m the one who has to teach you, you rascal.” Your hand ruffled the top of his head.

Grim backed away from you to leap up onto the table. Not that it added much to his height. “Myargh, don’ call me that! Y’don’t even understand it either!” When you pointed an exasperated stare at the fire-monster, he continued to protest, “but it’s Friday! Studying during the weekends should be illegal!”

“I’m sorry, we’ll start getting out of your hair in a bit…” You turned to the both of them, sheepish and apologetic.

“No, no it’s okay.” Kalim waved off your words cheerfully. “You were saying something about Astrology…? Are you having trouble with that class?” He took the last serving of pita wrap and passed it to you.

Jamil took the empty plate and brought it to the sink. 

Accepting the snack, you winced. “Well… u-um, every class has its challenges, you know?”

“Liar! Y’were cryin’ snot all over our worksheet!”

Embarrassment filled your voice. “Grim!” 

“Well, if it’s Astrology that’s giving you trouble, then you’re in the right place!” Kalim gestured with a wide sweep of his arms. “Did you know that you can see the stars really easily here? You could stay over for dinner and—” he paused, then his smile widened even more.

Jamil knew what that expression meant, that meant the dorm leader was going to suggest something outlandish.

“—we could take the flying carpet! I did that with Jamil when I was also having a hard time with that class in my first year. It’ll be fun, don’t you think?”

Jamil kept his head down, focused on the plates in front of him, the faint smell of dish soap, the cool running water against his hands. But he couldn’t tear his ears away from the conversation.

“Um… but curfew…” 

“You could sleep over for the night!”

“Sweet~! We really lucked ou—ack!” Grim’s cheer was cut off by you, continuing to decline on his part.

“No, it’s really fine, Grim ‘nd me’ll start leaving right now—”

“Don’t worry about that! We have plenty of spare rooms, don’t we?” He looked to Jamil for confirmation. The unbridled excitement in Kalim’s irises sent a wave of irritation through him.

A strained laugh left your throat. “Um, I appreciate the invitation, but respectfully, I must turn it down…” you paused, considering what to say, “...seeing as how none of us have brought overnight clothes…”

“Why’re you suddenly talking like that? You don’t need to be formal with us. I insist!”

“I really don’t think it’s okay for us to overstay—” You tried protesting for the third time.

“Lots of people sleep over at Scarabia, it’s no big deal!” Yes, Jamil could remember the times where he found Silver slumped over in a pile of pillows from the lounge, the several instances where Floyd invited himself to stay over “for funsies,” and of course, he couldn’t leave out the bi-monthly Light Music Club sleepovers with Lilia and Cater.

“Um…” 

“Stop scruffin’ me, henchman! Kalim’s got a point, doesn’t he?”

Kalim’s voice softened. “Look, you’re practically one of us at this point. It’s fine, really.”

That. That unwavering honesty in his words and how it easily spilled from him. It was careless how freely and earnestly he spoke. But above all, it was enviable. Only a young rich heir could find the capacity to be that open and kind and generous and Jamil could feel a headache pinching at his temple. He placed the cleaned dishes on the drying rack. It took every ounce of his self-control not to set them aside with a clatter.

You didn’t seem to have any rebuttals prepared. 

Jamil discarded his irritation, easily plastering on the neutral expression he always carried. “Do you have your books and notes?”

You nodded. 

“Make sure to bring it with you after dinner. I’ll tutor you both.” The sensation of having everyone’s eyes on him was uncomfortable against his skin. 

“...alright.” Maybe the same could be said for you. “C’mon Grim.”

Now that the kitchen was mostly cleaned up, he needed to prepare a room for you and Grim, find a spare dorm uniform in good condition, then go back to the kitchen to prepare dinner. His internal list of responsibilities to work through shifted to make space for this extra work.

The moment of discomfort didn’t last for long though, Jamil refused to let it linger. Because if it lingered, then that meant he would have to figure out why his irritation was being overtaken with uneasiness. And if he thought about it more then he’d have to…

He stole a glance at you, keeping up with his pace. For once you weren’t trailing behind him like you usually did when you visited Scarabia. You looked like you were half-listening to whatever Grim and Kalim were talking about.

Articulate as he was, he couldn’t name the expression you were wearing. Whatever it was, there was a deeper emotion to it and Jamil found it hard to look at.

[...]

“Look, look I’m matching with you guys now.” You rested a hand on your hip. After a few beats, your expression faltered. “I didn’t wear anything backwards, did I?”

“You didn’t.” Save for the golden accessories that every student from Scarabia wore, the uniform seemed to fit you well. Not too loose or uncomfortably tight, the hem of the vest and undershirt were neatly smoothed out. Just like how you presented yourself in the NRC uniform. “It looks good,” he said.

“Really? It feels super comfy. Well…” you paused, looking down at yourself. “I guess the belt is just a bit long…” 

“You can shorten it by doing this.” He stepped closer to you, taking hold of the trailing end and fixing it so that it wouldn’t trail down to your ankles. But in adjusting the belt, part of the undershirt had risen up. The habit of fixing Kalim’s clothes kicked in before he could catch himself.

Jamil’s hands brushed against your hips as he gently tugged the hem of the undershirt back down. He double-checked the belt and smoothed it out once more. At the sudden contact, you tensed up, breath hitching quietly. Several sheets of your epherimedes slipped from your notes as your arms came up by reflex, placing a sort of makeshift barrier between him and you.

Thankfully, instead of mentioning the proximity—the breach of personal space—you asked, "where's Kalim? I thought he said he was going with us." 

Jamil picked up the fallen sheets of paper, passing them to you. "He turned in for the night." Well, Kalim was intent on staying up late, but Jamil had already tried waking him up once. To which the dorm leader responded by burrowing deeper into his blankets. Jamil motioned for you to follow him.

“So did Grim. I told him that we were still going to study but…” You sighed, shoulders slumping forward a bit. “...I guess I’ll just make sure to tutor him tomorrow morning.”

It was late in the evening now. The moon hung high in the sky, an upside-down bowl. The sound of your footsteps echoed through the empty hallways. Filling in the silence as Jamil weighed his words. “You’re very diligent.”

You laughed. But the sound was derisive, directed—stabbing—at yourself. “Diligence doesn’t mean much when you earn poor results.”

He thought back to what he overheard in the library. “Don’t be hard on yourself.” To his surprise, his words didn’t feel the same as the empty platitudes he would regurgitate for Kalim. “This isn’t my first time tutoring Astrology.”

And it would reflect badly on his dorm if he couldn’t recall what he learned in the first year, the afterthought needed to be there. To remind him of his responsibility. Because now his mind was catching up to the fact that it was only going to be you and him, and that thought wasn’t supposed to be so… bothersome.

"Are you really okay with it?” He knew that you were talking about having to be an impromptu tutor, your words held a hint of guilt and concern. And even if a part of him was aware that it came from a genuine place, it only made him feel small.

The automatic response came out, albeit a bit more curt and clipped than he intended. “I’m used to it.”

You didn’t say anything more, only muttering a quiet ‘oh, I see.’

The walk to the treasury was quiet, and your silence spoke volumes. It was as if he could hear the gears in your head turning. Despite your reserved nature, you were a mediator through and through, just like Kalim was.

If he said that he wasn’t okay with being volunteered to tutor others, that wouldn’t exempt him from being made to do so either way. He didn’t have a choice in the first place. The least you could do was make the ordeal less painstaking than it already was for him.

Jamil’s hand rested on the doorknob of the room. “Look, the sooner we go, the sooner we can get this done. You can manage that, can’t you?” 

The guilt on your features gave way to a determined nod. “Okay, I won’t waste your time,” you promised.

He thought back to the pinky promise you first made. And he pushed the door to the treasury open. “Don’t expect me to hold your hand through the subject though.”

“I know that!” Your voice was pitched high from embarrassment. “You won’t have to start right from the beginning!”

At least you were standing behind him, you wouldn’t have to see the startings of a grin cracking across his face.

“You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?” Jamil asked as he searched around for the flying carpet. The magical artifact greeted you both with a wave of its tassels. It followed the both of you out of the treasury, curling and twisting in mid-air. 

You stared. “...oh…we’re gonna fly…”

“Yes—wait, what did you think we were going to do?” Now that you were all outside the main building, the carpet laid itself flat on the ground. The cool night air was a complete reversal of the day’s heat.

“I don’t know! I-I thought Scarabia had some special observatory I wasn’t aware of!”

He gave you an exasperated look. “Are you sure you’re okay with flying?”

“Yes, I’m…I’m not scared of heights… only falling and breaking my bones…” You took a seat next to him. Your hold on your notes was tight enough to crease the edges of paper that jutted out.

Jamil supposed that you were saying that to convince yourself. Judging by the way that your eyes were squeezed shut, his suspicions were only further confirmed. He guided the carpet to slowly ascend, flying high enough so that your view of the sky wouldn’t be obscured by Scarabia’s buildings.

Your trepidation melted away as you took in the night sky. "Woah, the star maps don't do this view any justice…" you breathed.

"Don't get sidetracked now." 

"Right, right. Sorry, um…" You opened the textbook and started rattling off what part of the lesson you were at. You showed him the graded worksheets and your notes.

As Jamil listened to you, he read over your handwriting. Somewhat messy, but still readable. Granted, while there were some missing segments in your solutions, you seemed to make sure to include the final answer. Was it a way to challenge yourself instead of copying another classmate’s solution? Or were you intent on figuring it out all by yourself? He guessed it was the latter. 

The both of you pored over the material. Redoing the problems you got wrong, filling in the parts of the discussion that you missed. Jamil noticed however that you had trouble comparing the actual night sky with the maps you brought along. 

“Wait, which star?” Your brow furrowed as you tried to follow the direction he was pointing at.

He tipped your chin up, keeping his other arm parallel to your gaze. “It’s a dim constellation, so you have to look at the surroundings to be able to spot it. ”

 A short, frustrated exhale escaped you. “I still can’t find it.”

“Keep trying.” From his perspective, the end of the star pattern rested just barely atop his fingertip.

He could feel the short baby hairs framing the side of your face brush up against his arm as you continued to search for the constellation. Eventually your confusion dissipated and your eyes lit up with recognition “Oh, I see it now! So then that means…” You looked back down at your notes, flipped through the pages, then started hastily writing down a few messy calculations. All the while indifferent to the fact that his hand was still resting on your shoulder. 

“Is this correct?” You tilted your notes towards him.

He scanned what you wrote. “...you used the wrong time zone.” 

You swore. “Ugh, I keep forgetting about that.” Your eraser scratched at the specific part of the mistake, making the needed corrections. “Are the advanced classes just as math-filled?” you asked as you redid the solution. “I feel like we’re almost doing rocket science.”

“No, they’re more reliant on magical ability. Scrying, cartomancy, even astrology, when done right can be powerful tools to guide a magician.” So far, so good. He noted as he skimmed your handwriting. “The better you are, the more vivid your visions. Or so they say.” 

“Do you believe in that? Things like seeing the future and all that?”

Of course not, he held back a scoff. His entire fate was neatly laid out in front of him by his parents and their ancestors. His destiny rested in the palm of a naive heir full of ignorance and misplaced kindness. His home, his own family, and the prestige they carried was a flimsily-disguised birdcage. Why, he wanted nothing more than to carve out his own path with his bare hands, to just up and leave everything behind. Fate, chance, and destiny be damned. 

Instead he settled on this for a short answer. “I think it’s foolish to hinge everything on fate.”

“I thought you’d say something like that,” you laughed. “Rational, practical, down-to-earth Jamil.” Not one bit of the sound felt demeaning, and there’s a note of something…fond in the way you said his name.

Too close. “Don’t tell me you believe otherwise.” He pulled away from you and leaned back on his palms. The magic that powered the carpet thrummed underneath his fingertips, steady as the ebb and flow of the ocean’s waves. He pointed his gaze towards the half-moon floating in a sea of stars, adamantly turning away from your crescent-eyed smile. His stomach felt uneasy, it was as if he was helplessly suspended in between two moons.

“It’s not that I completely believe in it or the other way around, but I came from a magicless world so I gotta…” You hummed thoughtfully as you flipped through your ephemerides. “...think of it as something real now.”

The two of you lapsed into silence, accompanied by the sound of the wind and the flutter of the carpet. Was it supposed to feel this comfortable, being in another person’s space and having them in his own? With this stillness, the both of you were no different from the celestial objects painting the night sky. You were deeply engrossed in your work, oblivious to what your words were stirring.

The scratch of your pencil against paper stopped before his thoughts spiraled out of control. “Okay… is this right?” He thinks he’s composed himself enough to be able to spare a glance.

“Mm, it’s right.” His hand toyed with the edge of his hood. The triumphant gleam in your eyes was blinding. 

“So, it’s good?” 

He flipped through the textbook then tapped at another sample problem. “Do this one next, then we’ll see.”

“What? That wasn’t discussed in class!” 

“It’s like the last problem, you’ll figure it out.” 

Despite your initial complaints, the rest of the tutoring went by relatively well. You weren’t merely echoing what he was saying. Save for some minor mistakes, you seemed less daunted by the subject compared to before. As long as you took your time working through the problems, Jamil was sure that you would do well enough. But just before you descended back to the dorm’s main building, he had you write down the lesson’s main points. Just to be sure. You were still going to be responsible for teaching Grim in the morning, after all.

“Solid ground, thank God! I was about to freeze up there.” A shiver passed through your body despite your light-hearted laugh. As you were about to walk past him, Jamil grabbed your wrist.

The tips of your fingers were cold. “Why didn’t you say anything?” The tone he used must’ve come out sharper than intended, you flinched before answering.

“Well, because we were already there and you said…the sooner we went, the sooner we’d finish…” you reasoned weakly.

He sighed. “Give me your other hand.”

“I’m fine, really! Just give me a sec—” Your protests fell silent as he shushed you and cupped your hands in his.

Warmth spread from his palms to yours, a simple heating charm. Your hands relaxed in his hold. A stubborn part of him chalked it up to the needed change in temperature.

“Better?” His own cheeks felt warm. It’s the residual magic, he rationalized, the fact that he didn’t use his pen to cast it.

You gave a small nod in response. Your gaze continued to stare at your linked hands.

The edge of your palms were rough, hardened from work. If he shifted his hold, he could feel the bump of a callus on the side of your favored hand.

He let go. “I still need to put the carpet back in the treasury.”

"...no." The word was uttered so quietly that he strained to hear it.

"What?"

Your head snapped up. The moment you made eye contact with each other, Jamil noticed your eyes were blown wide. As if you were a deer caught in the headlights—you reached forwards and yanked his hood over his head. His vision went dark, tearing a surprised noise from his throat. He heard the sound of the drawstrings being pulled taut, followed by the sensation of you pushing him and turning to run away. He stumbled backwards.

Fumbling for the drawstrings of his uniform’s hood, he bit back a curse.

The strings were double-knotted.

[...]

Like every other person, Jamil had dreams. Of reliving certain childhood memories, of being chased and feeling like he was running through water, of having his teeth fall out. Once upon a time, he dreamt of being able to travel around the world once he grew up.

He doesn’t immediately recognize this as a dream. For all he knew, this was one of his usual days at Night Raven College. Robotically going through the motions, running to and fro at Kalim’s behest, reigning in his emotions, staying average and mediocre.

The sound of his class lectures sounded faraway, as if the professors were speaking through water. But as the day continued, he could also hear bits and pieces of your voice. One-sided scraps of conversations, you calling out for your friends, the sound of your laughter ringing in his ears, they all stood out against the muffled voices and hazy figures populating the school. Every time he searched, he would only catch a glimpse of your back as you entered a different classroom or the end of your ponytail as you would round a corner. And just before he catch up to you, he would only find a red feather lying on the ground.

It was as if you were a ghost.

He had other things to focus on. He made his way to Scarabia’s mirror and stepped through the glass, arriving at his old room in the servant’s quarters.

Why was he here? Everything was where he left it, untouched and undisturbed. But that did little to tamp down on his rising unease. He turned back to the door and found it locked. The windows were also locked, he was trapped—

The walls fell away to reveal an intricate and ornate birdcage, constructed out of gold, tall enough to reach the ceiling. No longer was he standing on solid ground, he was a little bird standing on a small perch now. No better than the numerous ornaments that decorated the Asim estate. 

The door to the room opened revealing you. Dressed in the fine robes of his hometown, golden accessories decorated your wrists, neck, and ears. Your hair was adorned with a single, red macaw’s feather. You looked no different from a noble. A vision to behold. You unlocked the cage and carried him out. He was small enough to fit in your palms.

You gave him a soft smile and smoothed down his feathers. His wings were pinned to his sides but you were careful not to press too hard against the fragile bones. “You weren’t meant to be caged, little one,” you said, walking towards the open window.

No, he couldn’t fly, he couldn’t soar. He couldn’t do anything except flail about helplessly in your hold. Useless birdsong spilled from his throat. Each step you took brought him closer and closer to that endless blue sky. He didn’t dare look down.

He could feel the wind now. A light gust that would’ve felt refreshing now sent a spike of adrenaline through his veins. The only thing separating him from the ground was your gentle hold. His breathing quickened, don’t let me go, please don’t let me go—

You were speaking but he couldn’t make out any of the words. Your cupped palms dipped once before throwing him into the blue sky.

And then he was falling down, down, down.

Flapping his clipped wings.

Wind rushing against him.

Blood roaring in his ears.

Screaming mutely until his throat felt raw.

He was going to hit the ground and break all his bones and die why was it taking so long—

Jamil’s eyes cracked open. The first thing he saw was the darkened ceiling of his bedroom. He was still in Scarabia. He sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face. A glance at his phone screen told him he woke up two hours before his alarm was set to ring.

Might as well get started for the day.

The dream would be quickly forgotten. He would go through the latter classes of the day with a building headache. Even Kalim would notice his discomfort, but his attempts at concern would be waved off. 

It was just a dream. And he knew better than to dream.

chapter 3: you're afraid to believe it A/N: first i'd like to thank @jessamine-rose for beta-ing this fic, your fresh eyes were very helpful in convincing me i wasn't going completely crazy😭😭 For my dear readers, i think now would be a good time to mention that I am primarily an angst and hurt/comfort writer so... part 3 will take a bit of a while since i have to resolve all Those Feelings ahhhh.... anyways! i hope you enjoyed reading this, don't be afraid to rb and holler in the tags, i treasure each and every comment💕💕

[buriedyou]

𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓.

previously found at: argaent, lunite, queenwolf, etc.

This characterization of Allison is unique to canon material. She DID die after being impaled by an oni’s katana in season three and remained clinically dead for the next hour. However, she was then revived and RESURRECTED. She remained in the hospital for six days as she recuperated. For the next ten weeks, she struggled to fit back into ordinary life alongside her friends and family. Despite their joy at the prospect of her second chance at life, Allison felt unhappy and out of place. She frequently suffered headaches and strange hallucinations different from the ones she experienced after her first death in the ice baths. Under the impression that these feelings and hallucinations were fueled by her brush with death, ALLISON LEFT BEACON HILLS with her father and began learning how to run a business, which would later help her to spearhead her own trade separate from her family’s hunting business. After a year of travel and research, Allison parted ways with her father and settled in New Orleans, Louisiana, where she reconnected with her estranged great aunt, Adelaide Argent. With her aunt’s help, Allison discovered the truth about who she was and why she did not fit in again following her death. Upon her resurrection, Allison’s subtle body and true soul were reawakened and the hallucinations she had been experiencing were from her past lives. HER ORIGINAL LIFE, SHE WILL DISCOVER, WAS THAT OF THE MOON GODDESS, SELENE. Allison will struggle with this revelation as her memories slowly return to her over time.

OUTER BODY FULL NAME: Allison Marcheline Argent NICKNAME: Ally, Louloutte SUBTLE BODY EPITAPH(S): Selene, Goddess of the Moon; Diana, Goddess of Hunting and the Moon; Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt; Phoebe the Huntress, Marie-Jeanne Valet; Luna GENDER: Cis-female SPECIES: Titan Goddess HEIGHT: 5’7” WEIGHT: 145 lbs. AGE: 22 years old ( timeless ) BIRTHDAY: February 2 SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, polite French ( most known languages are understood at a conversational level )

HAIR: Dark brown, almost inky. Cut an inch past shoulder - length. Thick and healthy; very soft to the touch. Shiny. EYES: Brown, like chocolate. Almond shape, thick lashes. SKIN TONE: Cool toned, pale. Translucent. Veins easily found in the arms and wrists, though deep grey in color. BODY TYPE: Willowy. Very leggy. Most of her height is in her legs. Slim torso and waist. Her hips are not particularly wide, so she appears almost triangle in body shape with wider shoulders tapered to her waist. She is prone to losing weight rather than gaining it. ACCENT: Slight southern French. VOICE: Very smooth. Her voice is lower in timbre and rich in quality. Most would find her voice soothing, a comfort. It almost hums, a subtle reverb when raised in volume that can be disconcerting to human ears. DOMINANT HAND: Right POSTURE: Impeccable. Her background in gymnastics and dance have instilled in her excellent posture and gait when she walks. She is very graceful, very light on her feet. SCARS: Jagged, ugly, four inch diameter scar on her stomach above her belly button where the oni impaled her. NOTABLE FEATURE(S): Allison is very ethereal in her beauty. There is something to her appearance that immediately gives off the effect of something not of this world, celestial in her features. After her resurrection, she gives off a subtle glimmer that is not perceivable to the human eye. SCENT(S): Jasmine. Spicy, like cinnamon and incense. Something you can’t quite place. Petrichor. Ozone before a storm. Dewdrops on leaves and fresh air. An open field, open sky. Running water freezing, the slippery rocks underneath. Nostalgia.

HOBBIES: Baking and cooking. Allison loves making food! She especially loves sweets; her specialty is her crème brûlée recipe. She also enjoys yoga and meditation, and often attends a variety of workout classes. Her favorites are pilates, spin, and kickboxing. Allison likes antiques and will scour second - hand and thrift stores in her free time. She really loves old records, silverware, and pictures. MENTAL ILLNESSES: Depression, bouts of paranoia and insomnia. History of bulimia nervosa in middle school. When it comes up, peri- and post-partum depression. PHYSICAL ILLNESSES: She suffers headaches off and on as she regains more and more of her past life memories. When it comes up, she has difficulty carrying pregnancies to term, which leads to 2 miscarriages. ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good VULNERABILITIES: She can be very prideful and stubborn. Once she’s set her heart on something, it can be difficult to talk her out of her set course. Allison also has a habit of getting into other people’s business, usually as a display of care to whoever she is reaching out. POWERS: Prior to her resurrection, any abilities that she would have as a goddess lie dormant. After her death and revival, her powers are inaccessible until she becomes fully aware of who she is and completes her memory resurgence. Post-resurrection Allison CAN DIE, but with this, she has the ability to manipulate her own mortality (read: she can choose whether or not she wants to stick around longer than a human’s typical lifespan). While she does have force power, it is not at all a strong suit of hers and she prefers it that way, honestly. Another important ability to point out are her existential manifestations, which explains how she leap-frogs through so many lives and variations of herself. This means, simply put, that she has the ability to manifest through different personalities and entire beings (i.e. Selene becoming Artemis, Phoebe, and eventually Allison Argent). Finally, Allison is an expert marksmen and close combat fighter even before she is killed, but her personal resurgence with these divine powers, of course, enhances her abilities and gives her inhuman strength. She is goddess of the hunt, after all. Some more general powers include: divine adaptation, divine energy manipulation, divine presence, divine resurrection, divine territory, divine sense, divine weaponry/artillery, divine healing. The following section lists her abilities specific to interactions with animals and supernatural monsters, which pertain directly to her role as goddess of wild animals and wilderness: divine communication, divine monster manipulation, animal empathy, animal scrying, animal taming, transcendent connection, zoolingualism, animal telepathy, and divine summoning.

CURRENTLY.

the rumblings of gerard argent’s reappearance. PRESENT DAY. in the middle of establishing peaceful ground in the fight between humans and animals, something has shifted. the minds that allison has been changing are suddenly getting cold feet. the friends she has made are questioning her fealty. and all these trembling fissures of pressure seem to lead to a ghost thought as long dead as the moon...

QUICK FACTS

allison is based in new orleans where she has relocated argent international’s main headquarters.

she travels often for work, acting as both the ceo and a contractor herself for her own company.

those outside of the supernatural community may very well be familiar with allison, as she is a public figure. besides running a two-fold company, she also regularly volunteers her time in any way she can, often times working with disaster relief across the united states as well as with victims of abuse and domestic violence. she finds joy in philanthropy when she has the time.

within the supernatural community, she is received in mixed light. hunters and shifters alike are either wary of her, furious with her, or hopeful that the change she is forging will last. she has a very large target on her back.

she is aware of the rumors of gerard’s return, but she has not yet run into him. it’s clear that he is waiting for the opportune moment.

IMPORTANT: interactions runs under the assumption that the supernatural world is not known to the general public. governments across the globe are privy to this knowledge, including the u.nited s.tates, and all have a hand in the politics associated with the community, mostly in very negative ways. essentially, the supernatural world is treated much the same way as area 51, cryptids, missing 411 phenomena, etc etc etc. just silly myths and stories made up by locals and fanatics. with that being said, argent international masquerades as a security employer, in that private and not-so-private individuals and conglomerate entities hire personnel through a.i. for security and protective services. it, of course, is actually a consulting agency with similar services for both human and supernatural beings.  the goal of a.i. is to protect both the human world and spn.

ALT VERSES TBD...

[mondaymelon]

heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy melon :) so about that little ask game of yours,,,,,,, 2, 14, 16, 27, and 31!!

i will ignore your previous transgressions for the pure sake of silly

silly ask game!!!!

2. lighter or matches?

i am a stupid little person and thus my fingers fail to cooperate with my very few coherent thoughts and for some reason when i like yk drag the match over the little strip thats supposed to light the fire it just. doesnt. light??? like back all the way in the elementary days we went to like this camp and i could not for the love of me start a goddamn fire and then i got marshmallow stuck in my hair because someone fucking flung it and the half-melted thing catapulted instelf onto my poor locks ... :( ...my past haunts me. that, and also lighters are more aesthetic and sillier to draw so. lighters. mmm

14. do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

id love to be all dreamy and misty eyed and be all "yes, its my favorite thing in the world" well smiling absentmindedly facing the pale light shining through the window with my chin resting on my palms but i could only say that if i went outside long enough to smell the wet dirt lmoa.

( yes, yes i do. and the name for it like petrichor or smth is so pretty too... although my love for freshly cut wood, printer paper, and those brown paper towels triumphs all. )

16. can you drive?

haha. no. lmao. because ive been putting it off for the sillies. that, and my family dont have another car since its my brothers till he gets shipped to college next year <33 besides hes basically my personal chauffeur anyways <- lie he does not put up with my shit nearly that well

BUT YOU BET WHEN THE DAY COMES WHERE I HOP INTO THAT VEHICLE CRANK THE KEYS AND DRIVE OUT INTO THE OPEN, BEAUTIFUL WORLD THAT ILL CRASH STRAIGHT INTO A TELEPHONE SERVICE POLE ANd BE BLOWN UP IN A SHOWER OF GLOWING SPARKS !!!

27. about how many hours of sleep did you get?

haha anyways next question

31. what kind of music keeps you grounded?

uhmmm hrmmm i like to listen to really fast paced (BREAKCORE ML <333) or very layered music where theres just a lot going on because for some silly reason it quells my thoughts that are a little too silly. if it does not fit my very specific and petty requirements i usually take multiple songs. and yk. just. play em at the same time. at max volume? i think the max ive done is 8 or so? believe me animal ( specifically amane milgram cover )+ god-ish + loli god requiem + meme (MIKOTO AND JOHN... i offer you my beating, bloodied heart <33) + im your treasure box (beware, she moans a bit., and the mv is a lil... m) + ussewa + judas (NOT the lady gaga ver) are actual bangers when you play em all at once with each one at like x1.25 playback speeeeed

... wait hold on just one moment. lemme do something rq

ah. okay maybe just one more for good mesaure haha

maybe... this... means something. yea no lol lmao what am i on about

[saintnightshade]

Roadside

It was a crisp night; a veil of low-hanging fog covering a rural forest road, the smell of petrichor was thick from a storm brewing in the distance and a single combo gas station and mini convenience store with bright neon lights stood at one side of the road; all in all, it was just another boring but peaceful night at work. A night of sitting behind the counter or meandering about the inside of the building reorganizing things as you did. There was a small tv used mostly for the news and weather along with the quiet radio that filtered through the stores' speakers, oh the joys of working in a 24-hour station in an isolated area. It was only around 2 in the morning, you still had a few more hours before the morning shift came in to take over.

The fluorescent lights flicker gently as you happen to catch a glimpse of a rather well-maintained old VW van pulling over on the opposite side of the gravel road from the station. It was a pale blue color and littered with various stickers on some parts. Three men slowly emerge from the van at their own pace, you can't help but take notice of their drastic tastes in clothing; not like there’s anything better to do at this hour than people watch when the opportunity arises… The tallest one looks like a dressed-down soldier and surprisingly he pulls out an actual paper map which is kinda weird, the service isn’t that bad out here; something you’re grateful for. The second guy is dressed in bright clothing and is climbing his way onto the top of the van and just… sits there for a minute and intently stares off down the road they came from, like he's looking for something before climbing down and into the back of the van. The last one is dressed all in black, a kind of streetwear look going on, he leans on the front of the van and lights a cigarette. The lights flicker again and you make a mental note to tell the manager about it.

Maybe those three are just double unlucky, lost and with dead phones and they’ve pulled over for a map break. You try to ignore them, not in the mood to go out of your way to be friendly to non-customers especially so late at night but there's something different about the way they carry themselves... At that thought you roll your eyes so hard they might pop out, you must be really bored or the constant buzzing of the fluorescent lights is starting to drive you nuts, you swear it's getting louder and now the tv is being jumpy. The storm must be getting closer. If those guys need help then they’ll just come over and ask for it. Plus walking over to a group of men in the middle of the night is some dumb shit right out of a horror movie.

You whip out your phone and scroll through the various apps, doing nothing in particular when you take a glance at the men again and the one smoking catches your eye and he doesn’t look away… at all. His expression is unwelcoming, with lazy hooded eyes and a frown etched into light brown skin. The radio raises and dips in volume. “Damn.” You think to yourself, got caught staring… when try to play it off and go back to your phone you find that you can’t look away and your thoughts suddenly start to race. It feels like the station is suddenly full of people and you feel a bit lightheaded, nauseous even... Where's that static buzzing noise coming from? These guys... This feels wrong, you don't know why, you can't put your finger on it. Your hair raises on end and something primal is telling you to turn tail and run. Shooting caution to the wind you say fuck it and decide you want these guys gone, how long have they been standing there? Did they move at all? Can they even read that map? And what the hell is going on with the lights and electronics in the station right now? Is the storm going to be that bad?

You muster up all the courage you can and leave the comfort of the well-lit store, your phone gripped tightly in your hand; the map app is thankfully working so you'll just ask where they're headed and give them directions anything to get them out of here. You make your way over to them remembering to plaster on a painfully strained smile, the one smoking notices, he never stopped staring, and scrambles to make his way to you pretty quickly, faster than your walking pace. For a second you think he might straight up deck you in the face or plow right through you without even stopping, he certainly looks intimidating in the lighting. You barely take notice of the lights gently flickering out here too, the outside speakers sounding muffled and garbled. The man in black reaches you quickly on the station's side of the road and suddenly his whole expression and demeanor changes so quickly it could have given you whiplash.

His frown is now a lazy smile to match those eyes, it's smug and gives off the feeling that he knew you wouldn't be able to help yourself... You kind of want to slap that look off his face. He speaks calmly and quietly, what little fire you had going in your gut is snuffed out immediately as his voice draws you in. His voice has you listening so intently it reminds you of a child listening to their mother as she tells you why you should NOT talk to strange men at night. He has your full attention, you hear nothing but him. You manage to exchange pleasantries and the like as he tells you that he and his brothers are fine, they’re just taking a break and have their route figured out already. You don’t have much else to say, they don’t seem to need you or your services. Your gaze lingers on the VW, the back windows are tinted and there's a faint noise coming from it; probably the radio, you're too far away to tell. You continue examining it until the guy in black pops into your vision again. It startled you out of your trance and he asks if you're feeling alright, you nod dumbly and quickly say your goodbyes and wish them good luck and hurriedly turn your back on the three, heading back to the safety of the station. You faintly hear the heavy back doors of the VW open and slam shut, once inside the station you notice the brightly colored one is back on top of the VW. You don't linger on them for long as your head starts to throb and that static noise picks up again, you lock yourself in the break room for the rest of the night. Fuck the night shift.

You didn’t know it but you were lucky you walked away when you did. They don’t like people who pry and they don’t like nosey onlookers, Good Samaritans be damned. They’re working just like you, but their work is different… their work had them pulling over right across from a single gas station with bright neon lights on a crisp night; a thin veil of low-hanging fog covering a rural forest road, the smell of petrichor thick in the air. Their work was in the back of their van putting up a fight again, desperately trying to get the attention of a lone gas station employee, heavily muffled whimpers all they could manage. The brightly colored one had slipped into the van for a reason he had taken care of their work, finishing it. They lingered after to listen to the whispers that came from the woods, praising their good work.

You never gave the encounter a second thought just like you never thought twice about the news of a body found in the river not too far away from the station, VW tracks completely washed away from the storm. You never saw them again and your memory of those unsettling strangers became like static on an old television screen before completely fading away.

[tripstitan]

Risk of... Ruining? Nah, Risk of Rain

I've been banging my head against a couple of things in my novel series, and one thing that I shouldn't do, I've been doing. I've been writing linearly. It's so frustrating to try to keep my mind focused from moment to moment. Especially during writing month, but I'm trying to build up a backlog of chapters that I can post now'ish, rather than in however many months it takes me to get to the next volume, lol. Seriously, Volume Six is around 1300 pages long so far, and my outline looks like it's anywhere from 400 to 1400 more pages depending on how I handle certain arcs. I have literally dozens of chapters written for Volume Seven. Trying to force myself to write linearly degrades my quality and I have to go asking for input for things like, "What's this chapter missing?" (Then I take like... every suggestion, which bloats my chapters and they don't really feel 100% like Reggie's or my voice anymore after.) Bluh, ADHD problems I guess.

Anyway, enough of me whinin'. Games! I took abreak from writing and AI-arting, since I've been post 50k on NaNoWriMo since November 6th, to go do a chill run of the rather brand-new'ish Risk of Rain returns. Same setting, planet Petrichor V.

I could see myself doing a little fanficof my characters ending up in the pods as survivors choosable for RoR. Heh, I'd probably have to go with Book 1 versions of them, for simplicity's sake.

Hm, Reggie's primary activatable would simply be a long distance, non-piercing shot, using their Space skill to launch daggers from their inventory. Secondary skill would maybe be their buzzsaw trick, sending an item spinning out of their inventory from above, downward at an angle. Utility would be a little bit of a spoiler from Volume 2 when they realize they can use their inventory for mobility (conjuring items near them, using the velocity to strike themselves to propel them,) it'd essentially be a double jump. Their special skill would be to propel up to twelve daggers at once aimed at the nearest foes. Nothing too fancy, pretty standard, not much different than Commando, the base survivor, just flavored differently.

Teuila would play a bit like Huntress, what with her spear-based fighting style, only instead of a teleport, she'd get a ridiculous high-jump, and some gravity redux/falling damage redux.

Lil's a dragon, but if we're going Spheriform Lil, then he's more like a Koromon with a tail than much of anything else. A bursty little close range chomp attack for primary, a flamethrower secondary attack, with a more powerful flame that leaves a fire patch for a special attack. Utility I guess could be a tail-coiled spring if we're getting a little creative.

Honestly, I'm tempted to get some art of my goobers in the opening-cinematic style of Risk of Rain returns. It's gorgeous. Of course, I think my goobers are gorgeous in their natural habitat as well, but I've never nailed down a style for them (I think I'm getting close though. I've got some consistent ones that I want to practice drawing myself, but that'll have to wait til after NaNoWriMo, and some more work on my house, so that I can set up a neat little thing so that I can actually use my drawing tablet.) Anyway, my goobers natural habitat is AAoMM over on Royal Road.

[unspeakable3]

First Lines

(i’ve not been tagged in this but i saw @pennygalleon reblog @maesterchill and couldn’t resist doing my own!)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have fewer than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some people to take part.

1. The steam twisted around him, winding into shimmering emerald spirals. (Stars Shine Darkly)

2. “Master Regulus!” (is this hell?)

3. He’d never meant for it to happen like this. (The Cave)

4. Sirius sits back on his heels, folds his arms, and inspects his handiwork. (The End of the Line)

5. The first round of banging at the front door didn’t alarm Regulus. (He Can’t Hurt You if You’re Already Dead)

6. Regulus woke mid-gasp. (do you want to know a secret?)

7. Every care has been taken to ensure that the information supplied for this volume is correct. (The Pure-Blood Directory)

8. The vase slipped through her fingers. (exit, pursued by a lupin)

9. Regulus took off his prefect’s badge and reaffixed it to a more prominent position on his robes. (it’s not my birthday but i’ll cry if i want to)

10. Sirius yawns widely and feels his boy-jaw crack. (Dog-Star and Lion-Heart)

11. Orion Black died a fortnight ago. (she dreamt of him)

12. Regulus shifted his weight from foot to foot and wrapped his thick winter cloak tighter around his shoulders. (are we the bad guys?)

13. “I’m ready,” he insists. (Brother)

14. As he sat in the window seat of his parents’ bedroom, watching his mother brush her long blonde hair, Draco couldn’t help but wonder whether she hadn’t wished that he had been born a girl. (sweet prince)

15. The passage of time concerns the living far more than it does the dead. (A Transient and Embarrassed Phantom)

16. The first word that drifted to the forefront of Regulus’s mind as he came slowly, fitfully, to consciousness was petrichor. (Unknell’d)

17. The sun was shining in the sky but Peter didn’t care that it was turning his skin pink. (Mr Blue Sky)

18. The moon shone brightly, this late February night. (A Rotten Apple)

19. Tom strolled through the dungeons, hands clasped loosely behind his back, and considered, not for the first time, what a deluded moron Slughorn was. (Heir of Slytherin)

20. Mother forced me to watch her remove you from the tapestry yesterday. (Acerba Sunt Bella Fratrum)

Pattern: i suppose i rarely start with dialogue. it’s usually mid-action, sometimes scene-setting, occasionally introspective. 

Favourite Line: it’s got to be either ASBF (Mother forced me to watch her remove you from the tapestry yesterday) or ATAEP (The passage of time concerns the living far more than it does the dead) but I’m also quite fond of the directness of SDOH’s Orion Black died a fortnight ago. 

If you’re reading this and you write I’m tagging YOU. 

[damejanai]

2020.08.12

2020.08.12 S: I cried like shit recently....my heart was in pieces... K: Huh? What happened? S: After reading manga...it was so good, that it may be cry.. The one called 'Karakuri circus" K: Oh! S: it was the first time I read something by Fujita Kazuhiro, and it was so good, I finished it in two days, while crying K: Wow that's many volumes! S: 43 volumes... ... Recently my tabs are all related to 'Karakuri Circus' K: Ahhh, please, watch the anime too S: Yea and then I found out, Ishikawa san is in it! K: Yes S: You're in it, and it's a good role too K: Well well yeah I didn't have much air time but S: Ahhhh you know, I kept rereading the best lines from this work K: Uh huh, and hey, can I brag about something? Can I? I'm gonna do it S: Huh? You brightened up suddenly K: Hahahhaha, Manga artist Fujita Kazuhiro S: !!! K: Drew my character S: !!! K: and signed it for me S: Really?!?!?! K: I have it displayed S: That's awesomeeeee K: I've bragged S: I'm gonna cry K: Hahahhaha --- ~Summerholic! ~ S: Oh, " Saito san, it's almost time for your next single to be released on streaming.' huh? K: Oh! S: Yes, my next single will be released on 19th August, 'Summerholic!' K: That's next week! S: Eh? It's it okay for me to be the Artist Saito Soma? K: Ahhhhhh.... Well well yea K: Ahhhh that's quick eh? Since 'kagome kagome' (referring to the last part of Petrichor) S: Ahahhaa right, kagome kagome. For the jacket of this single, it was a photo during evening of a dimly lit room. If you watch the MV you'll understand K: You'll be releasing an MV too huh S: Yes, ahaha the MV will be something unlike anything I've done so far K: Really? Like what? S: If I had to say one thing about it, it might not the cool type of MV, it's those funny type. Hahaa I don't know if I can say this K: The songs that Soma san write aren't those funny ones right? S: the song is a upbeat band song, but the MV is like... 'Huh?' kind of K: Huh what what? You're raising my expectations S: Hahahahaha K: Will you be cosplaying? S: Hahaha, well it's in that direction K: Really? Tarzan would be good S: That's totally.... Quite holic-ish huh, totally enjoying the summer K: Summer-ish too, won't the tropical jungle vibe be good? S: Well like the title, it shows one enjoying summer in a certain way K: What... Are you going to do a cosplay of your past self? S: No no, what do you mean? That's a noo K: Will you be that tanned surfer dude? kind of summer S: With the M shaped bangs? K: Ahhhhh that would be exciting! S: That's why I grew my hair out? wwww --- ~Manga~ Q. I like romance comedies but one type I don't like are sibling romance kind of manga, because I have a younger brother who is 2 years younger than I am, and that's an age difference that appears in most sibling romance. Also he calls me 'oi' or 'omae' in front of others but calls me 'Yui chan' when we're at home. Please tell us your perfect type of siblings! S: That's cute~~~I'm okay with reading sibling ones but I don't have much heart fluttering instances K: Umm, there's a method to read them S: hhahahahaa K: You constantly doubt if they're related by blood S: Ahhhh K: As long as they're not blood related, it's still within my threshold. I have a sister 4 years younger than I am, so it's weird.. S: Ahhhh K: Wait, but I was okay with Oreimo though S: It was okay huh! K: Huh I wonder why... It's because it's Nakamura san! S: What kind of logic is that! --- ~Soma started buying manga online~ S: Ooh what's that about....i'll buy it....ah, i bought volume 13 by mistake K: Then you'll have to get the other 12 S: Ahhhhhh......oh well, i shall buy them S: Recently, dameraji has become like this... K: Just Otakus, welcome! To the undergound!! --- ~Kanji~ Q. Do you like kanji? K: Um well, I shan't talk about whether I like it or not.. I'm bad at it.. S: Ohhhh K: Because I can't read them, I, can't really read a lot of kanji S: Ahh is that so? K: After living with namikawa San, erm, living...em living sounds weird S: Hahahahaha, there were many weird things about what you just said K: I mean, I do a program with him.. S: Yes I see K: And when he asks me how to read a kanji,  I'd be like... 'I don't know',  and we'll check it together S: Ahhhh I seee,  like sometimes even though we may know the meaning by looking at the context,  and sometimes we miss it when were checking our scripts...and when we reach that part during the recording well be like,  huh? K: Totally happens~ and also for Smart News,  there's a section on 'difficult-to-read-kanji' and I'll always read it S: Yes yes,  that's convenient right? K: Totally convenient ~Dameraji Photo Studio~ K: Since they brought us the Number 24 karaoke collaboration drinks here for us shall we pose with them? S: Alright~

[DOWNLOAD] 

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1Yp5Xdwi4_z03jPajH9BEbL7R02brXk8P?usp=sharing

[umbry-fic]

Petrichor

Summary: After the events atop Mt Fooji, Colette begins to rediscover that which she had lost before. And every step of the way, Lloyd is there for her.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Zelos Wilder Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving Rating: G Word Count: 5044 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 02/03/2021

Notes: Petrichor (/ˈpɛtrɪkɔːr/): the earthy scent produced when rain falls on dry soil.

Slight canon divergence where Colette regains her senses slowly instead of all at once. Whether this is romantic or platonic is up to you!

~~~

1. toque - touch (Spanish)

The chirping of the birds circling in the sky above Mt Fooji, the rushing of the wind past her ears, and the excited chattering of her companions… The vibrant azure sky, the verdant green of the leaves hanging overhead, and the rich brown of the dirt below her feet… The soft fabric of her clothes brushing against her skin, and the warmth of the sun’s rays on her face…

Colette had forgotten how alive the world was, locked away in her shell. Now, finally freed from her prison by the Key Crest that Lloyd had painstakingly crafted, she could experience it all over again.

But the pure energy of the world, rushing her all at once and so removed from the muted greys that had been all she experienced for the past few days, was too much. It felt like her head was going to explode from all the sound bombarding her ears as her angelic hearing returned to her. All the things that she had loved about the world before were proving far too overwhelming at the moment.

Her hand wandered to the necklace that Lloyd had gingerly attached around her neck in hopes of truly seeing her again, trying to let its familiar rough texture calm her. She should be happy at her newfound freedom. Her companions certainly sounded like they were ecstatic!

And she was. She was so incredibly happy and looking forward to spending time with her companions, both new and old. But at the same time, she had to resist the urge to curl up into a ball, shut her eyes and clap her hands over her ears -- create her own bubble where nothing existed but her.

She didn’t want to come across as ungrateful for everything they had done for her. But she couldn’t help it. Even with her eyes closed, the sounds were only getting louder and louder and louder -

Colette froze as the sounds of talking quieted down and someone took her limply hanging hand, folding their fingers over hers. The skin pressed against hers was warm, grounding her like an anchor as it brought back the fading memories of actually feeling the warmth of someone’s touch. With shaking fingers and eyes still screwed shut, she explored each finger, mapping the almost forgotten texture of rough skin and simply letting herself feel.

Even having just regained her sense of touch, she could recognise the hand in hers. After all, she had spent countless years memorising it, dancing her fingers across his bare hand as he slept at his desk, the sunlight through the window of the schoolhouse illuminating him in a warm yellow light - the length of each finger, the placement of each callus, where each mark on his palm lay.

Finally ready to open her eyes again, the first thing Colette saw was Lloyd, bare hand holding hers and glove held securely in his other hand. Upon seeing her face the world again, Lloyd squeezed her hand without saying a word, as if asking Are you alright now?

Wordlessly, she squeezed back, letting him know that the world wasn’t quite as loud anymore, having quietened to an acceptable volume. Everyone else was looking at her now, and she knew she’d have to explain what had happened and why Lloyd had asked them to stop talking.

But for now, she could put those worries aside. She was safe. Lloyd was here, and she was safe.

2. belle voix - beautiful voice (French)

“How are you feeling?” Lloyd asked, sitting down next to her with a delectable bowl of beef stew that Genis must have made to celebrate the occasion. After all the excitement on Mt Fooji, they’d travelled for the whole day and finally settled down to rest as the sun dipped below the horizon. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, laughing and conversing by the campfire.

Lloyd in particular had stuck by her side for the whole day. Not that he hadn’t when her soul had been locked within the Cruxis Crystal. She had watched as he’d paid special care to ensure no harm came to her and that her soulless body remained comfortable. It was silly, for she didn’t feel anything that happened to her body. But it was so much like Lloyd to care, no matter how inconsequential.

He had spent every second of today by her side, eyes shining as he talked, much more animated than he had been for the past days. The determination he had gained was still there, but it was overlaid with pure elation that seemed to burst out of him.

Colette was glad. Seeing Lloyd overridden with despair over her state had been heartbreaking, especially knowing that none of it was his fault. She was the one who had chosen to go through with the sacrifice, and the burden of her life should have fallen on her alone.

So she was glad. Glad that the burden had finally been lifted from him.

Colette stretched out her arm without a second thought, reaching to write her thoughts on Lloyd’s arm. About how happy she was to be able to truly spend time with him again. About how amazing Tethe’alla was, but how much she still missed Sylvarant. About how her throat hurt from all the yelling -

Colette paused, finger hovering a centimetre away from Lloyd’s arm. She’d forgotten that her voice had returned to her. She’d gotten so used to her throat emitting nothing but silence that she hadn’t tried to speak for the entire day… The words she had uttered atop Mt Fooji had only slipped out because of how hard she’d been thinking them, screaming them with her entire soul as she struggled to escape.

She would have to get used to speaking again. It was a basic skill, after all. And taking the time to write on Lloyd’s hand every time she had something to say would slow everyone down, not to mention inconvenience him...

She cleared her throat hesitantly, wincing as the bruised muscles protested in pain. All that yelling had not gone over well with her under-used throat.

“Great.”

Colette frowned, placing her hands around her own throat. That didn’t sound quite… right.

“What?” Lloyd asked, spoon slipping from his hands as he lifted his head to stare at her.

“I mean… I’m feeling great! I…”

After so long, her own voice sounded foreign in her ears. And why was it so weak? She had been able to yell perfectly well before, so why now…?

Why couldn’t she do something so simple that even a child could do it without any guidance?

“Hey,” Lloyd said, setting his bowl down on his thigh and offering her his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. “It’s alright.”

Blinking away the tears in the corner of her eyes, she proceeded to write on Lloyd’s hand. Lloyd himself said nothing, only waited patiently for her to finish. That much was familiar.

I’m sorry. I can’t seem to get the words out.

“Don’t worry about it.” Lloyd smiled, leaning closer and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear with a gentle hand. “I’m sure it’ll come back to you!”

Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to force yourself just for me.

“Yep! I already told you before that I don’t mind you writing on my hand. It’s like our own secret language, don’t you think?” Lloyd laughed, a sound that filled her heart with warmth. It had been so long since she’d heard genuine laughter from either him or herself.

Today was just a day for celebration, wasn’t it?

Thank you. I’m feeling great.

“That’s good to hear. Just take things slowly. I’ll be right here for you every step of the way, so there’s no need to rush! There’s no need to be perfect, alright? We have all the time in the world.”

Those words forced the tears right back into her eyes as she resisted the urge to move closer, knowing she’d inevitably knock the bowl of stew over. How did he always know exactly what she needed to hear?

For so long she had been told to uphold the standards of perfection. To be the perfect Chosen, she had to be perfect in all other things. She had struggled with all of her might, but she had always fallen short of those standards. Too clumsy, too stupid, too weak. And now she couldn’t even adequately perform the basics.

Lloyd had always been the one to tell her that it was alright to fail.

Alright, she wrote, whispering the word as well. Perhaps one day, having heard it time and time again, she could finally believe it…

3. dröm sött - sweet dreams (Swedish)

Colette rubbed at her eyes, blinking away the black spots that kept periodically appearing in her vision. Why were they there? They’d been popping up since this morning, and had gotten even more intense as the sun had set and the stars had taken its place.

She shook her head to clear it, sighing as she realised the campfire had burned down to embers. How much time had she lost? The fire had still been burning cheerfully when she last took notice of it.

She didn’t understand what was happening to her. She’d been spacing out of conversations the whole day, body feeling unnaturally heavy like she was sinking into the dirt even as her two feet stood securely on it.

Did it have anything to do with -

“Colette!”

The hand frantically shaking her shoulder shocked her out of her newest daze, causing her to whip around and spot Lloyd, blinking down at her with sleepy eyes.

“Are you alright? I called your name 5 times, and you didn’t respond…”

“I was just thinking!” she replied, shifting slightly to give Lloyd some space to sit down cross-legged next to her, knees close enough to touch. As an extra precaution, she pulled her sleeves further down to ensure that her arms were fully concealed. Now that Lloyd was here, maybe she could have some hope of staying in the present… “And what are you doing up anyway?”

Lloyd opened his mouth wide to yawn, stretching. “I promised to join you for night-watch back when we were in Sylvarant, remember? That’s not going to change now that we’re here in Tethe’alla.”

Colette ducked her head, remembering the words Lloyd had told her after she’d offered to do night-watch alone, and the determination they held.

“I’ll stay with you at night! It must get lonely, right? Then I’ll chase that loneliness away.”

She appreciated the effort, even if most nights, Lloyd would simply fall asleep leaning against her. The company was much appreciated, even if she hadn’t been able to feel his touch at all. She would spend the nights tracing on his skin all the words she didn’t have the courage to tell him face-to-face.

I’m sorry.

And…

“So, what were you thinking about?”

“Nothing important! Just how pretty the moon is tonight! It’s so bright...” Colette replied casually, resting her head on Lloyd’s shoulder. She was eternally grateful that she could feel the warmth radiating from him now, soothing her soul.

Her eyelids felt so heavy, and Lloyd was so comfortable to lean against…

…

Colette jolted upright, gasping for breath as the darkness receded from the edges of her vision. Her hands were gripped tightly over her heart as she struggled to get her breathing under control, heartbeat so loud that she could hear it with her angelic senses - a fast and unsteady thumping echoing in her ears.

“Colette? What - I thought you were sleeping!” Lloyd stared at her with wide eyes that were now fully awake, hand hesitantly reaching for her shoulder like he was afraid she would bolt if he touched her.

“Sleep?” she gasped. “I don’t need to sleep.”

“Your ability to talk and feel came back. Wouldn’t everything else also come back too?”

She bowed her head, avoiding Lloyd’s gaze. What he said made sense, but she hadn’t needed sleep since the second seal. It had been months since she had felt the bone-deep sensation of exhaustion rather than the bleak weight of despair. Though everything she had experienced today… It was faintly familiar.

“Isn’t it better if it doesn’t, though?” she asked, breathing in deeply. “I could just do night-watch alone, and no one else would need to get involved. Otherwise, I… I’m not that useful.”

She wasn’t skilled in the art of fighting like Lloyd was. Her magic wasn’t as powerful as Genis’, she wasn’t as smart as Professor Raine, nor did she have Zelos’ charms. She didn’t even have the raw power Presea held. She was just a clumsy, foolish failure of a Chosen who couldn’t even protect the people that she loved.

“Hey, don’t say that!” Lloyd said, carefully keeping his voice down even as he gripped her shoulders tightly, forcing her to face him. “We’d all be willing to do night-watch. So don’t beat yourself up over something silly like that! And you are important, no matter what! Your cheer is what keeps everyone motivated, and your spells are so important. We’d be dead without you, Colette.”

“Really?” she muttered, glancing downwards and rubbing her wrist. “You’re not just trying to make me feel better?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

That he wouldn’t. Lloyd had never, ever lied to her. He had always told her the earnest truth, unlike herself… She’d lied to him for almost her entire life, hiding her demise. And she was lying still, about the tiny green scales that crept across her skin, crawling up her arm. Surely one day, they would envelop her entire body, and she would be trapped once again. But how could she tell him? It would only add more worry onto the already too-heavy burden he had to carry, trying to oppose the god that ruled over these two worlds with an iron fist.

And it was her punishment, for her alone to deal with.

“But can I stay here?” she asked as Lloyd released her from his grip. Not willing to part with him now, she grabbed his hand again.

“Here…?”

“I…” She bit her lip, knowing that her fear was embarrassing. Sleep was something that came naturally to everyone, a time to recuperate that no one could deny their body. But what did she have to lose by revealing it now? Lloyd knew almost every inch of her already. He was her safe haven, where she could always find shelter. “I’m scared. Of falling asleep. I’m scared of what I’ll see.”

She didn’t want to experience the nightmares that had permeated her rest before the second seal. They had involved all the fears she hid within herself - dreams of failing to become the perfect vessel for the Goddess Martel, failing to save her home of Sylvarant, and failing to protect Lloyd.

Some small part of her had been thankful to have sleep taken away. She hadn’t had a good night's rest in years, not since she was told of the role she would have to play and the responsibility she would carry. And if she couldn’t dream, then surely she could bury her fears even deeper.

“And I’m scared that I won’t wake up again,” she whispered. “Or that if I do, I won’t… I won’t be myself anymore.”

The moment she had dozed off had felt like free-falling into a bottomless pit, unable to spread her wings and fly. Like she had been retreating into herself and losing any control she had. Like…

Like the moment her soul had been locked away and the world had seemed so far away, unable to reach anyone or anything. It was far too reminiscent.

“Colette…” A flash of anger, followed by sadness, passed across Lloyd’s face. “Of course you can stay. Just make yourself comfortable, alright?”

Colette snuggled up against Lloyd, hesitantly closing her eyes. The panic had receded, but it was barely held back by the fragile wall of reassurances. And faced with the pitch-black world behind her eyelids, it might just come racing back.

She felt Lloyd squeeze her hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. “Just relax, alright? I’ll be here the whole night. I promise.”

She was safe here, with Lloyd watching over her. He had caught her once when she was falling endlessly with no hope of stopping, and had crafted a miracle to give her another chance to live. She believed that, no matter what, he would always be there to catch her.

After all, when had he ever left?

And so she let herself drift away, enveloped by Lloyd’s familiar scent. It felt like being wrapped with the warmest of blankets back when she had been an innocent child, free to rest without the threat of nightmares.

In the haze of sleep, Colette would wonder if the next few moments were simply the beginning of a sweet dream, born of a peaceful mind and wishful thinking.

A gentle kiss was pressed against the side of her head as Lloyd’s voice floated by her ear.

“I’ll always be here to wake you up, no matter what nightmare you’re caught in. I don’t care how much I have to fight for it. You are why I fight, after all…”

4. dolce - sweet (Italian)

When her stomach had begun to twinge while travelling with the others to Flanoir to get the assistance of the doctor, Colette initially ignored it. Surely it was just some trivial discomfort, perhaps a few aching muscles protesting that she was continuing to walk against the wishes of her body. Maybe it was because of the cold? There had to be some logical reason for it.

Even as the twinges became more frequent and gave her increasing amounts of discomfort, she continued to brush it off, answering Lloyd’s concern with reassurances that she was alright. They were almost to their destination, and she didn’t want to inconvenience everyone by stopping in the middle of the icy tundra, not with Altessa in his current critical state. They couldn’t afford to slow down.

Neither did she want to worry Lloyd, who must have so much on his mind at the moment. Her tiny, inconsequential ailments should be the least of his concerns. He had always been her unyielding pillar of support, so now, when he was at his most vulnerable, it was only right for her to return the favour. Oh, how much Colette wished she could take on the brunt of the emotional pain in Lloyd’s place. She hated seeing Lloyd so heartbroken - his shoulders hunched inwards and the usual warm smile wiped completely from his face, replaced with a dejected shell. She had known pain, residing so deep within one’s heart that it threatened to overtake all, for so long. What harm would just a little more do?

But she couldn’t do that, and she knew Lloyd would never let her. If only emotions were as simple as the marbles that used to be exchanged on the school grounds, where picking one up would signal your ownership, instead of the confusing mess of threads that they were, where unravelling one threatened to unravel them all.

So all she could do was trudge along in the snow, slowing everyone down because of the crystalline scales twining up both of her legs that limited her movement.

She was nothing more than a hindrance…

It wasn’t until her stomach growled out loud that she could no longer ignore it. With her hands pressed over her now intensely uncomfortable stomach, Colette prepared to wave away the expressions of worry that her friends would surely direct her way.

But what happened next defied every expectation she held. The one who acted first wasn’t Lloyd or Professor Raine, but Zelos, who wordlessly grabbed the arm that hadn’t yet been claimed by the scales and pressed a peach into it. His face was schooled into an expressionless mask, so different from the usual smirk that sat on it.

The peach was a shade of rosy pink, reminiscent of the blush on everyone’s cheeks due to the intense cold. Its scent, suffusing the air, was strong and fragrant. Squeezing it slightly revealed that it was soft, and the fuzzy hairs on it tickled her palm. Snowflakes fluttered lazily through the air and landed onto the peach, giving the appearance of white sprinkles.

It looked juicy and sweet… Except she didn’t remember what sweetness was.

Why was her mouth watering? Why was her stomach only growling louder?

And wasn’t this the peach that Zelos had been toying with before dinner at Altessa’s last night? He’d been tossing it from hand to hand with a wistful expression on his face, staring at the peach but not biting into it. When she’d tried to question him about it, he’d hid it behind his back and skilfully changed the subject in the blink of an eye.

Surely Zelos was saving it for something. If that was the case…

“I can’t take this -”

“Don’t worry about it too much, little angel, it’s just a peach,” Zelos reassured her as his normal smirk returned, if slightly subdued. “You’re hungry, right?”

That brought her mind to a screeching halt.

Hunger had been the first thing to be taken from her. It had been weeks, perhaps months since she had eaten something instead of discreetly throwing it up into the bushes at night. Colette was glad that everyone had stopped offering her food once the truth had come out, for she felt awful to be wasting so much of it, especially when her friends had put their heart and soul into making it.

The twinges in her stomach, the gathering of saliva in her mouth in response to the peach in her hand, all of that was signs of hunger. She’d just forgotten.

And now that she had been reminded, the physical sensations only got worse as her body clamoured to tell her what it needed - how it hadn’t been fed in months. She wanted nothing more than to sink her teeth into the fruit in her hands to sate her hunger.

“But still, it isn’t right!” Colette protested, not ready to go down without a fight. “This is yours -”

“Hey,” Lloyd interrupted, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “Take care of yourself first, alright?”

“And as I said, it’s just a peach. It’s nothing important and I didn’t want it anyway.” The slight waver in Zelos’ voice towards the end and the way he avoided her gaze gave away the lie, his fingers fidgeting with his Key Crest. So did Sheena, who whipped her head around to stare at Zelos, biting her lip like she was deciding whether or not to speak up.

Before Colette could say anything more, Professor Raine signalled for them to move on, inclining her head in her direction. As if to say, go on. And before she knew it, everyone else had walked on ahead. There was no one left but her and Lloyd, standing silently in the fallen snow.

“Go on,” Lloyd said, echoing the sentiment.

Colette took one last hesitant look at Zelos, whose figure was quickly fading amid the snowflakes falling from the sky. There was nothing more she could do to convince him, was there?

She raised the peach to her lips, wondering if she would taste anything. It had been so long that she had forgotten what it felt like to chew, or swallow, or taste. Her tongue and taste buds had practically laid dormant, the only thing she knew being… blandness. Everything tasted like nothing, so they all tasted the same. Even the food at Altessa’s last night had tasted like paper. She had only accepted it out of courtesy.

Closing her eyes, she took a single bite.

Juice flooded her mouth, intermingled with snowflakes, melting to form water. It was refreshing, evoking the feel of spring - walking through an apple orchard in full bloom; feeling the sun’s gentle rays on her skin while sitting in the schoolyard; watching the rain with her nose pressed to the window of her house.

Overwhelmed, she swallowed immediately, almost choking on the small bite of peach she harboured in her mouth. Eager to get more in her mouth, she bit down a tad too fast, going straight through the peach and into her tongue. The sharp sting of pain radiated through her mouth, adding the acrid tang of iron to the sweet mix. And a salty taste…

Salty? That wasn’t right.

Colette blinked, finally registering the wetness on her face. Raising her other hand, she felt the tracks that the tears had left.

Why was she crying?

She wiped the tears away frantically, trying to keep them in, but they kept coming until she was openly sobbing. It was pathetic, to be crying over something so trivial. There were so many other things to grieve over, to be enraged over, to be ecstatic over. For her heart to be singing in joy over such a meaningless thing -

“Hey.” Lloyd’s voice cut through the haze of panic. He was, surprisingly, smiling - the first genuine smile she’d seen on his face in the past day. Was it because of… her? But why?

“It’s alright to cry,” he whispered, wiping away her tears with gentle fingers. “I’ll always be here to wipe away your tears. It’s… good to see you happy.”

Her eyes widened, the tears only flowing faster at his words. But if he had always been there for her, then it was only fair…

“You too.”

“What…?”

“You too! You haven’t cried yet, Lloyd.” Not since she had ascended to an Angel, and watched the single tear of desperation roll down his face. He hadn’t cried since then, not even after the events of last night. “Please don’t keep it to yourself.” Because he had told the same thing to her, and she knew how much it hurt to conceal all that emotion within one tiny, fragile heart, putting on a brave face in an attempt to convince everyone, and even yourself, that everything was alright. And Lloyd had done it exceedingly well. But Colette could see the cracks, and she would not stand by in silence as he suffered. For it was her wish to lighten the burden carried by those she loved, in the same way that they had done for her.

“I…” Lloyd glanced down, hands clenching into fists by his sides. “I - I can’t. Everyone… They’re depending on me, you know?”

Even now, his resolve remained unwavering, determined to keep that mask on no matter what. But she wouldn’t back down either.

“It’s just me,” Colette pointed out. “And I’m already crying. You can just join me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Lloyd replied, voice beginning to tremble as the faintest shimmer appeared in his eyes.

“I know. But you said it was alright to cry, because you would always be there to wipe away my tears. And it’s the same for you. I wouldn’t care if you cried a thousand tears. You’d still be the strongest person I know, and I will always be willing to wipe your tears away for you. So, please… it’s alright.” For it was alright. Alright to let out both the grief that must be eating him from the inside out, and the relief that called to be screamed out, knowing that even amongst the tragedies, there were tiny joys to be celebrated.

Lloyd reached for her hand, gripping it tightly in his as his shoulders begun to shake.

And then they were both sobbing like children. But they were smiling through their tears, fingers securely intertwined together, alone on the plain of white as the snowflakes landed on their hair. Things would be alright. Colette believed that. Because no matter what, they’d face it together.

5. anima mea - my soul (Latin)

The rich smell of beef stew, intermingled with the earthy scent of soil, recently wet by the rain, reached her nose, interrupting her dreamless sleep. Colette shifted her head and lazily opened her eyes. Her head was pillowed on something soft… What was it? She didn’t quite remember the events that had occurred before falling asleep.

As her vision came into focus, Colette was faced with the sight of Lloyd, glancing down at her with a small smile on his face as he stirred the contents of the pot above the fire. Oh right, Colette thought, as the memories returned to her. Lloyd had offered his lap as a pillow while he handled dinner, stating that she was tired, and she’d taken up the offer.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, I think the smell of dinner woke me up,” Colette replied, sitting up straight and stretching, noting her grumbling stomach.

“I think it still needs some time to be done,” Lloyd replied apologetically. “I probably should have started a little earlier…”

“I’m more than willing to wait.” Colette placed her ear against Lloyd’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, steady and strong. In response, Lloyd only chuckled and used his free hand to play with the tips of her hair, sending a current of warmth straight to her heart.

Some days were worse than others. Some days, the nightmares came back in full force, and she would awaken with tears streaming down her face that she still instinctively tried to hide. Some days, she’d forget that she had to eat until the pain got too unbearable. Some days, the vastness of the world would overwhelm her to the point that she had to stop moving, sit down and simply breathe.

And it was alright. Because she had unwavering faith that, no matter what, Lloyd would always be her unshakeable pillar, ever-present for her to ground herself. She was fortunate enough to have retrieved her soul and gotten her life back, free to do with it whatever she wishes.

She would, without a second thought, spend the entirety of her second chance with the person she trusted most in the world, carving each quiet moment into her heart as an eternally cherished memory.

For here was where she was safe, cradled in the embrace of love.

[eeraygun]

Top 246 Sonic Releases of 2020

001. Perfume Genius - Set My Heart On Fire Immediately 002. Splash Pattern - Sentinel 003. Pontiac Streator - Triz 004. gayphextwin & Pépe - gayphextwin / Pépe EP 005. Various Artists - SLINK Volume 1 006. Echium - Disruptions of Form 007. Henry Greenleaf - Caught 008. Sega Bodega - Reestablishing Connection 009. Summer Walker - Life on Earth 010. Charli XCX - how i'm feeling now 011. Various Artists - Physically Sick 3 012. Autechre - Sign 013. Off The Meds - Off The Meds 014. Brent Faiyaz - Fuck The World 015. Luis Pestana - Rosa Pano 016. Reinartz - Ravecoil 017. pent - - 018. Mark Leckey - In This Lingering Twilight Sparkle 019. Various Artists - Sharpen, Moving 020. Vanessa Worm - Vanessa 77 021. Aho Ssan - Simulacrum 022. Lyra Pramuk - Fountain 023. PJ Harvey - Dry Demos 024. Felicia Atkinson - Echo 025. Arca - KiCK i 026. Space Afrika - hybtwibt 027. Ambien Baby - Mindkiss 028. The Gasman - Voyage 029. Inigo Kennedy - Arcadian Falls 030. Raft of Trash - Likeness on the Edge of Town 031. OL - Wildlife Processing 032. Fyu-Jon - Furrow 033. Desire Marea - Desire 034. Octo Octa - Love Hypnosis Vol. 1 035. Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher 036. Jesse Osborne-Lanthier - Left My Brain @ Can Paixano (La Xampanyeria) OST 037. Various Artists - She's More Wild 038. Various Artists - Days Of Future Past [White Material] 039. Foul Play - Origins 040. Late Night Approach - The Naus Investigation 041. Amazondotcom & Siete Catorce - Vague Currency 042. Davis Galvin - Ntih / Icia 043. Patiño - Actually Laughing Out Loud 044. Various Artists - 2nd Anniversary Compilation [All Centre] 045. St-Antoine, Feu - L'eau Par La Soif 046. Xozgk - skllpt 047. Various Artists - The Sun is Setting on the World 048. DJ Python - Mas Amable 049. Peter Van Hoesen - Chapter for the Agnostic 050. Tracing Xircles - Air Lock 051. Ben & Jerry - Formant Fry 052. still house plants - Fast Edit 053. D-Leria - Still Standing 054. Florian T M Zeisig - Coatcheck 055. Hanne Lippard - Work 056. Shedbug & Rudolf C - Honey Mushrooms II 057. Carl Stone - Stolen Car 058. Ruth Anderson - Here 059. Sid Quirk - Ginnel Talk 060. Various Artists - Fluo I [Kindergarten Records] 061. Pump Media Unlimited - Change 062. VC-118A - Crunch / Plonk 063. Beatriz Ferreyra - Echos+ 064. Bearer - Precincts 065. PARSA - PAƬCHƜȜRKZ 1 066. Holly Childs & Gediminas Žygus - Hydrangea 067. Cosmin TRG - Remote 068. Obsequies - Carcass 069. Jake Muir - the hum of your veiled voice 070. No Moon - Set Phasers to Stun 071. Olli Aarni - Mustikoita ja kissankelloja 072. E-Unity - Duo Road EP 073. Benedek - Mr. Goods 074. Extinction Room - Extinction Stories 075. Hodge - Shadows In Blue 076. Various Artists - Tiny Planet Vol. 2 077. Floco Floco - On m'a dit 078. Breather - Ceremonies Of Aporia 079. Unknown Mobile - Leafy Edits Vol. 2 080. Wetman & Sword of Thorns - Apt E Vol 2 081. Borderlandstate_ the Best Kisser in L.A. - Hello Mainframe 082. Kiera Mulhern - De ossibus 20 083. Mads Kjeldgaard - Hold Time 084. Тпсб - Whities 031 EP 085. Network Glass - Twitch 086. a2a - A2A¹ EP 087. Wata Igarashi - Traveling 088. Joey G II - Pub Talk 089. Atom™ - <3 090. Valentina Magaletti & Marlene Ribeiro - Due Matte 091. Ewan Jansen - Island Diary 092. HOOVER1 - HOOVER1-4 093. Nazar - Guerrilla 094. Paradise Cinema - Paradise Cinema 095. Daisies - Daisies in the Studio with DJ Rap Class 096. Alloy Sea - Petrichor 097. Flørist - Intermedia 1 EP 098. Nandele - FF 099. Pro.tone - Zero Day Attack 100. Michael J. Blood - Introducing Michael J Blood 101. Various Artists - RV Trax, Vol. 5 102. DJ Plead - Going for It EP 103. Strategy - The Babbling Brook 104. Various Artists - surf000 105. Deft - Burna 106. Various Artists - WorldWideWindow 107. Lucy Liyou - Welfare 108. O-Wells - Ebecs 109. Special Request - Spectral Frequency EP 110. Anunaku - Stargate 111. Scott Young - Ket City 112. Various Artists - Stir Crazy Vol.1 113. Syz - Bunzunkunzun 114. Oozy Zoo - Sabertooth 115. Vanessa Amara - Poses 116. Carl Finlow - Apparatus 117. Al Wootton - Snake Dance EP 118. Oi Les Ox - Crooner qui coule sous les clous 119. aircode - Effortless 120. Tristan Arp - Slip 121. Andrea - Ritorno 122. Russell Ellington Langston Butler - Emotional Bangers Only 123. The Lone Flanger - The Photon's Path 124. SHelley Parker & Peder Mannerfelt - Decouple ]( Series 125. Esplendor Geometrica - Cinética 126. Casey MQ - babycasey 127. Gacha Bakradze - Western Arrogance 128. Fatherhood - Big Boy 129. Blawan - Make A Goose 130. Roza Terenzi, Roza - Modern Bliss 131. AceMo - SYSTEM OVERRIDE 132. Meitei - Kofū 133. Penelope Trappes - Eel Drip 134. Adult Fantasies - Towers of Silence 135. Plush Managements Inc. - Magic Plush 136. Further Reductions - array 137. Ben Bondy & Exael - Aphelion Lash 138. Pugilist - Blue Planet EP 139. Dylan Henner - The Invention of the Human 140. Cindy - I'm Cindy 141. Ulla - Tumbling Towards a Wall 142. EMMA DJ - PZSÅRIASISZSZ TAPE 143. BufoBufo - Potholing 144. Model Home - Live 5-12-20 145. Low Budget Aliens - Junk DNA 146. Paranoid London - PLEDITS#2 147. Emra Grid - A System A Platform A Voiid 148. J. Albert - Pre Formal Audio 149. Dawl - Break It Down 150. Oall Hates - Tranceporter 151. Mystic Letter K - Cosmic Clearance [MLK4, 2020] 152. Coco Bryce - Lost City Archives Vol 2 153. Hagan - Waves 154. Various Artists - ON+ON+ON 155. INVT - EXTREMA 156. C Powers - Redirections Vol. 1 157. Significant Other - Club Aura 158. Client_03 - Thought disposal 159. Ghost Phone - LOCKDOWN BODY EDITS 160. Two Shell - N35 161. Rhyw - Loom High 162. EAMS - Demode 163. Various Artists - Woozy001 164. Society Of Silence – Réalisme Viscéral 165. HVL - Alignment 166. Alan Johnson - Material World 167. Matthew D Gantt - Diagnostics 168. DJ Detox - RM12009 169. Critical Amnesia - Critical Amnesia 170. Neinzer - Whities 025 EP 171. Despina & Ma Sha Ru - Polychronia 172. Divide - Computer Music 173. URA - Blue [NAFF008, 2020] 174. Forest Drive West - Terminus EP 175. Glacci - Alzarin _ Lavvender Rush 176. Fergus Sweetland - Fergus Sweetland 177. Various Artists - C12 - Social Distancing 1.1 178. A-Sim - The Puppet Master 179. Chlär - Power to the Soul 180. Will Hofbauer - Where Did All The Hay Go 181. Protect-U - In Harmony Of An Interior World 182. Instinct & 0113 - Instinct 11 183. Ribbon Stage - My Favorite Shrine 184. Zenker Brothers - Mad System 185. 2Lanes - Baby's Born To Fish... - Impish Desires 186. Nebulo - Parallaxes 187. Martyn Bootyspoon - Lickety Split 188. Erik Griswold - All's Grist That Comes To The Mill 189. Alex Falk - Movefast 190. DJ SWISHA & Kanyon - Club Simulator EP 191. Happa - Ls14 Battler _ 36Th Chamberlain (Remixes) 192. Svreca - FRUE 193. Anz - Loos In Twos (NRG) 194. James King - rinsed - installed 195. Catartsis & Ōtone - Mechanical Gesture 196. Daniel J. Gregory - Life Is A Bin 197. Desert Sound Colony - Pulled Through The Wormhole EP 198. Floral Resources - TS00000? 199. Alex R - Last Attempt 200. Notzing - The Abuse Of Hypnosis In Dance Environments 201. Brain Rays & Quiet - Butter [SR081A, 2020] 202. Benjamin Damage - Deep Space Transit 203. BROSHUDA - Contemplative Figuration 204. Various Artists - Radiant Love IWD Comp 205. Paradise 3001 - Low Sun Archives 206. 011668 & S280F - Os 207. Kubota, Kazuma - Mind 208. HATENA - HANDZ 209. Leonce - Seconds & Fifths EP 210. Furtive - Sympathies IV 211. French II - Time / Tracker 212. qwizzz - slag ep 213. Gag Reflex - The Fae 214. Luca Lozano & Mr. Ho - Homeboys 215. CONCEPTUAL - Introspective Research 216. Xyla - Ways 217. Minor Science - Second Language 218. Fana - Karantina 219. Current Obsession - XXX 220. K. Frimpong & Super Complex Sounds - Ahyewa 221. Ali Berger - The Stew 222. Sleep D - Smoke Haze 223. Nick León - MAZE 224. DJ Delish - Khadijah Vol. 6 225. Sputnik One - Kerosene 226. OOBE - SFTCR 2 227. Burrell Connection - Breaks That Strung the Camel Back 228. Wayne Phoenix - Soaring Wayne Phoenix Story The Earth 229. D.Dan - Mutant Future 230. Distance Dancer - Distance Dancer 231. Nikki Nair - Number One Slugger 232. Vinicius Honorio - Metamorphosis 233. Tracey - Microdancer EP 234. Ntu - Perfect Blue 235. Bliss Inc. - Hacking The Planet 236. JLTZ - Tools From Another Mother 237. Omnipony - GHOST1 238. WTCHCRFT - ACID EP vol. 2 239. Mike - Weight Of The World 240. Hypnaton - Hypnaton 241. Granary 12 - High 1987 242. Elisa Bee - Orbit EP 243. Stones Taro - Pump EP 244. Alexis - Refractions 245. Ntel - The Dilution Effect 246. X.WILSON - YUK

[namtans-jean-jacket]

the 1st petrichor special chapter: horny

the 2nd petrichor special chapter: in a perfect world everything is okay....... unless

[feel-o-sopher]

Chapter "A"

"A for Apple." The phrase echoed back, multiplied in the intensity and the volume.

2 years earlier.

Archana was "the leader", the kind of leaders we read about in our business communication or campus to corporate training classes and who seem to be close to non-existent in this world. A believer, assertive and the go-to-guy for absolutely anything and everything. Just in her early thirties, she was closing more deals & acquiring more business than any of her counterparts. In fact, her contract with the organization exclusively had the clause to keep her salary "strictly" confidential just to curb any kind of jealous attention from her colleagues. Dashing, bold and never afraid to present her opinions, she was the perfect fit to guide a team that ultimately achieves big every now and then. The very description of such a charismatic persona, raises awe yet at the same time tends to make the person arrogant. However, it was just the opposite for Archana. She was truly grounded and never forgot her roots. The fish and chips never stirred up her appetite unlike rajma-chawal at home, the Starbucks coffee was nothing compared to the ginger tea that her mom made for her, the petrichor after the rains was always her favorite scent rather than the artificial fragrance in the bottles and such instances were countless. Everything was picture perfect. Archana was in good books of almost everyone whom she came across in her professional as well personal front. She was climbing the corporate ladder at a pace which was remarkable and note-worthy. Yet something was amiss. She wanted something more out of the life she had been living, something which was like a piece of missing puzzle. She felt that restlessness and the urge to find the missing piece but she could never figure out what it is that she wants more, until now. "Go away", the helmet clad guy hoarsely said. The kid came over near the window of the white sedan which Archana was driving. She quickly fumbled through the contents of her side bag, pulled out a packet of cookies and handed it to the kid just seconds before the traffic lights turned green. But in that brief moment, magic unfolded to reveal the missing piece which made her restless all this while, for she could see the gleam of happiness in the kid's eyes. Over the span of next 10 days, she had packed her stuff, got her financials and other affairs sorted. The tremors of the shocking news was felt across the office grapevine. Everyone was perplexed & shocked as to why she quit because if it had be anyone to succeed in this corporate rat-race, it had to be Archana, a point to which her well-wishers as well as her competitors agreed upon.

Not a thing had changed about the small, sleepy village except for a few cosmetic changes that generally happen post a change in the government. The houses still thatched excepting a few, the roads filled with potholes, the livestock roaming astray in the fields and the government school building deserted and dilapidated. The place was reminiscent of her childhood summer vacations when she used to visit the place with her mother to spend time with her maternal grandmother. Her granny was long gone but the house still stood, a decent 3 room structure with a relatively large hall and a small open kitchen. She looked at the place and the first word that came across her mind was "perfect". The kids in the village didn't go for school since the government school got shifted to another municipal block, a distance of roughly 18 kilometres. The concerns of the parents were rightly justified to send their wards over such a long distance with no proper roads or mode of communication. So, it took a little to no objection by the village folks when Archana actually suggested, or say ‘pitched’ her idea of imparting primary education to the kids at her grandma's house to the people, many of whom still remembered her from her childhood days. It was like a new lease on life for the simple folks at village who wanted their kids to grow up, stay & work in cities, a stereotype definition of being successful which is still believed in many places. More or less, this is how she found peace in the chaos, how she found the solace for her soul. From a successful business professional, drawing an annual pay in million, to a successful primary school teacher without a pay & living on her savings, shaping lives of underprivileged children. She had found her calling and the journey has been worth it for she knew she had given meaning to her life. What Archana was doing was just a drop in the ocean & she knew it was not enough but it was a start. She gave hope to people who had none. The place where boys just wanted to work in the local leather tannery after growing up and the girls learnt household chores to become homemakers, now had larger dream. The same kids now had dreams of being pilots, doctors and alike. The dreams fueled by the hope that Archana gave.

Present day. Today.

At times, it got difficult for Archana and she doubted the effort she was putting, thinking if it will ever be enough. Times like those trouble her thoughts and resolve but all of those doubts and questions were put to rest whenever she looks upon the bright smile of Riya, one of her pupils in class, the kid she came across the busy traffic signal, the kid whom she adopted. And she continues, “B for Brave”.

[imsfire2]

Meme no 2

I was also tagged by jlrpuck:

What is the one beverage you absolutely cannot make it through the day without (besides water, that is)?

Black coffee!

Describe an ideal day in your favourite season of the year (Hmm, to make it a question: Would you please…?)

An ideal day in April is warm and sunny but not humid.  The light makes me feel energetic and hopeful, and the world has that new-spun look that fresh spring sunshine can give it.  Birds are singing, trees are coming into leaf and there’s so much blossom everywhere.  

What is a book that you could–and do–read over and over and over again?

The two volumes of the essays of Ursula Le Guin: “Dancing at the edge of the world” and “The language of the night”.

As an adult, did you wind up doing what you thought you’d be doing when you were a kid?

For a long time, the answer to that would have been LOL NOPE! said in a tone of great bitterness. Not so much these days, as although I’m not a Proper Published Successful Author, I do write, and I do have readers.  

What is your favourite item of clothing?

On one level, whatever is most comfortable for the weather and the activity I’m doing (boringly practical of me but the truth).  But - I tend to keep clothes for many, many years, until they literally fall apart at the seams.  So a lot of my wardrobe has memories attached.  This means that many of my older and scruffier things are also favourites, because I remember wearing them at a festival or a party, or while travelling, or having someone I miss compliment me on them.

What is the furthest you’ve ever travelled from home?

4,653 miles/7,487km. London to Cuba.

What is your favourite smell?

I don’t think I have one absolute favourite!  Food smells, the smell of the sea, hot dry grass in the sun, petrichor, roses, frost, newly-creosoted fences, paperwhite narcissi are some of my favourites.

Do you prefer sweet or savoury?

These days, definitely savoury.  Weaning myself off my sugar addiction was one of the best things I’ve done in years.

If you could magically teleport anywhere, where would you go?

Right now, with no negative consequences?  Somewhere in Greece.  Let’s say, the terrace of the Asinin Te restaurant, above the beach at Asíni and overlooking the archaeological site.

What is the oddest thing you’ve ever encountered while traveling (vacation, going to work, getting the mail–doesn’t     matter).

Good grief, I’m an old thing who’s spent a lot of her life travelling in one way or another!  So I’ve seen some odd things in my time.  I should certainly mention the young man dressed as a grandfather clock recently on the London Underground.  And I remember a chap cycling past me once on the waterfront at Poros with the biggest and most dick-shaped butternut squash I’ve ever seen strapped to his bicycle rack with bungee-cords.

What is your favourite museum that you’ve visited?

By damn, I love museums! I’m particularly fond of small local museums, where you can sometimes find the most amazing things that aren’t considered showy enough to have been transferred to a big national or regional collection.  So I’m going to plump for the museum of the Peloponnesian Folklore Foundation, in Nafplio, for its astonishing collection of traditional costumes of the Argolid.

Thank you for tagging me!

[soveum]

Mesa Contemporary Arts Museum Hosts Mid-Career Retrospective for Esao Andrews http://hifructose.com/2019/04/19/mesa-contemporary-arts-museum-hosts-mid-career-retrospective-for-esao-andrews/ In a mid-career retrospective exhibition at the Mesa Contemporary Arts Museum, Esao Andrews offers paintings that span his career. "Petrichor," curated by Thinkspace Projects, looks at the riveting, pop surrealist output from the artist, over the past several years. The exhibition kicks off next month on May 10 and runs through Aug. 4. Andrews is featured in the Hi-Fructose Collected Volume 2 Hardcover.

More

April 19, 2019 at 11:48AM

[mistercrowbar]

Have a page of a new Heartbreaker comic set that will be in Unbound volume 2! I always wanted to Illustrate Todd’s fight against Ezekiel since the party had a lot of emotions riding on each combatant. Aaaand of course it got complicated  by both guys having history with Ryybyn. This flashback scene got triggered during the fight which Ryybyn saw from Todd’s perspective through their empath abilities.

this was also REALLY HARD because the flashback was triggered by smell and im like... how do I show that? Ryybyn’s spells have a thunder and lightning theme so I wanted to go with ozone, rain, and petrichor. Had some help from peeps on twitter so hopefully I landed with something that works.

I think the flashback was presented as both of them sleeping in too late but honestly like... ryybyn is a night person and todd is a morning person and I just imagine todd waking up early but not wanting to disturb Ryybyn. 

[thelunareclipse]

I posted 1,099 times in 2021

38 posts created (3%)

1061 posts reblogged (97%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 27.9 posts.

I added 48 tags in 2021

#black lives matter - 7 posts

#shitpost - 6 posts

#feminist - 5 posts

#corvidcore - 5 posts

#save. - 5 posts

#mushroom - 4 posts

#poverty - 4 posts

#looking at you jeff bezos - 4 posts

#like idc about millionaires - 4 posts

#but you cant spend trillions - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 94 characters

#ive always been left behind and i cant trust people because they leave me behind after a while

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Tag Yourself and a Person

4am - messy sketches, online friends across the world, open windows, a little sad but hides it well, long distance relationship, lofi music, blushing

6am - chlorine, cold air, cats stretching, a heavy sweatshirt, bagels, black coffee, routine, intrusive thoughts, smiling with friends

8am - Smiling at your reflection, organized planner, folded shirts, high TV volume, sending a text, waiting for hours

10am - fuzzy socks, the color yellow, flower picking, whispering secrets, warm weather, folk music, cloud bread, feels like they can’t ever fit in

12pm - Sheet protecting a bed, spring, activism, not feeling good enough, big dogs, empty sketchbooks

2pm - rocking chairs, heavy heat of summer, floral perfume, unbrushed teeth, chopping fresh fruit

4pm - heavy rain on a tin roof, petrichor, new books, black tea, waiting rooms, cars with headlights on, smiling despite anxiety

6pm - small dogs, barbecue, laughter drifting through music, heavy hip hop, lakes, getting into a fight after being cheated on

8pm - the color lavender, scrolling through pinterest, nostalgia, soft warm breeze, fireflies, journal entries, dirt underneath fingernails, burned out

10pm - altars with shiny crystals on them, fuzzy blankets, breathing in cool autumn air, silver necklaces, wikipedia articles, feels like the world is falling apart

12am - nightmares, indie music, smudged mascara, acrylic paint long dried, packing a bag, typing quickly, being afraid to sleep

I’m 12am, @heart-fleeting is 4am and anyone who wants to can do it

9 notes • Posted 2021-06-07 12:42:49 GMT

#4

I play identity v. Playing quick match, as hunter. Geisha, since it’s her character day.

My countdown is up and I’m assigned a match.

Four theives. Four dumbass pickpockets. I choose excitement, of course, against their flashlights.

And meanwhile in the chat they’re basically chanting “KREACHER CULT!!!” And I’m like what the hell.

So we start, assigned the Gold Mine map, which I hadn’t played before. So I’m kinda exploring the map, keeping an eye on tinnitus.

I find them. They’re all in the basement, huddled together. Of course, I don’t play friendly (except for one survivor if they’ve decoded 2+ ciphers and everyone else is dead). So I’m whacking like a mad woman, surrounded by these stupid stealers.

They’re all shining their lights, but I hit excitement before I get stunned. Finally, I manage to chair one. I get stunned (my excitement cooldown isn’t done), but these thieves just chase me around in the basement, wreaking havoc.

Eventually I manage to chair them all and hear the synchronized screams.

I don’t know what just happened. I don’t know what sort of cult I walked into.

10 notes • Posted 2021-02-19 01:02:42 GMT

#3

17 notes • Posted 2021-02-18 19:22:42 GMT

#2

See the full post

31 notes • Posted 2021-08-22 08:48:35 GMT

#1

See the full post

32 notes • Posted 2021-06-19 01:19:18 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →