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reasonsforhope · 1 year ago

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Countries That Generate 100% Renewable Energy Electricity

Pictured: Hydropower is the most widely used source of renewable energy-generated electricity. This dam is located near Polson, Montana.

Is 100% Renewable Resource-Generated Electricity Possible?

"With concerns growing regarding burning fossil fuels and their connection to global warming, a great debate is occurring regarding the feasibility of producing electricity entirely from non-carbon emitting green renewable energy sources such as geothermal, hydroelectric, wind, and solar. Skeptics and naysayers claim that achieving such a goal is impractical, would destroy the economy, and is in the realm of pie-in-the-sky thinking.

But is it actually impractical and unattainable? The answer is clearly "no" since there are already several countries that generate 100% of the electricity they use from renewable sources of energy. There are also many other countries that obtain over 90% of the electricity they use from renewable energy sources. Despite the negative rhetoric by some, there’s nothing impractical about using renewable energy to generate electricity on a grand scale.

The Countries Leading the Way to a 100% Renewable Energy Electricity Future

The following is a list of countries that are leading the world into the new frontier of economies that run their electrical grids either entirely or nearly entirely on renewable energy per a 2018 report by the International Renewable Energy Association (IREA) and the U.S. Energy Information Administration (EIA) statistics. This list and the percentages are subject to change over time, but it provides a good snapshot of just how practical renewable energy currently is for electricity generation.

Iceland obtains 100% of the electricity it needs from renewable energy sources. Iceland is somewhat unique since volcanic activity on the island provides a significant geothermal energy source that is utilized to provide approximately one-quarter of the country’s electricity. The remaining three quarters are provided by hydro-power.

Paraguay obtains 100% of the electricity it uses from renewable sources. Huge hydropower dams provide all of Paraguay's electricity needs, as well as supply neighboring Argentina and Brazil with electricity.

Costa Rica is another country leading the way towards 100% renewable-produced electricity. During 2018, Costa Rica met all of its electricity needs using renewable energy sources such as hydro-power, geothermal, biomass, wind, and solar for 300 days in a row.

Ethiopia, Kenya, Namibia, Norway, Tajikistan, and Uruguay are countries currently generating greater than 90% of the electricity they use from renewable energy sources. Some of these countries are working towards running their electric networks entirely from renewable energy.

Some things stand out from the list of countries leading the way in electricity generated from renewable energy.

They are relatively small countries.

They have abundant renewable natural resources, particularly abundant water resources available to generate hydro-power.

The list includes both wealthy developed and poor developing countries.

The fact that both developed wealthy countries and poor developing countries are leaders in renewable energy-produced electricity indicates that the cost of constructing renewable energy resources is not a limiting factor. In fact, developing countries can justify the capital cost of building renewable energy sources of electricity due to the fact that the operating costs are relatively low and predictable (not subject to commodity price swings), and renewable energy allows a country to be self-sufficient in meeting its electricity needs.

Large Developed Countries Can Also Produce 100% Of Their Electricity From Renewable Energy

Critics and naysayers might say that while these achievements by small countries are impressive, implementing renewable energy on a large scale is impractical for larger developed countries. But is it really impractical?

Cost and technological barriers are not what they once were for renewable energy. In fact, costs for renewable energy continue to decline year after year, and renewable energy technologies continue to develop and become more efficient. Many countries have not even come close to tapping their renewable energy potential or even tried some of the technologies available, such as electricity generated by wave or tidal power. Additionally, the argument that renewable energy is only useful when it is being generated is becoming irrelevant since large utility-scale batteries are now available that have the capability to store electricity generated by renewable energy and allow it to be used when needed.

Clearly, the answer is yes. Large developed countries can produce 100% of the electricity they need from renewable sources. It is only a matter of the will and investment at this point to make the changeover from fossil fuel-generated electricity to renewable energy electricity generation. The technical barriers are not as great as naysayers claim, as proven by smaller countries that have already reached the 100% threshold. Moving towards 100% renewable energy sources of electricity will become easier over time as wind, solar, and other renewables become more efficient and large utility-scale battery storage technologies become capable of storing larger quantities of energy for use when needed.

Pictured: Researchers lay out a plan for nearly 140 countries that could be powered 100 percent by renewable energy by 2050. spectrum.ieee.org

The City of Los Angeles Leads the Way in the U.S. With Inexpensive Solar

Various forms of renewable energy have experienced significant cost reductions to a point at which they are competitive and, in some cases, cheaper than traditional electrical energy sources such as coal, oil, and natural gas. This cost reduction trend will accelerate the change over to renewable sources of electricity. For example, the City of Los Angeles signed a deal in July 2019 for a large solar electricity array that will provide 7% of the city's electricity by 2025 at only two cents per kilowatt-hour (kWh). This is far cheaper than fossil fuel-derived electricity.

In addition to being cost-competitive, the practicality and reliability of renewable energy are poised to make major advances as large utility-scale battery technologies are rolled out that can be used to capture renewable energy when it is created, so the electricity can be used at a later time when needed. The Los Angeles solar array project includes utility-scale battery backup at a cost of 1.3 cents per kWh, so the electricity generated by the sun will be available even when the sun is not shining.

Los Angeles has a goal of achieving 100% renewable electricity generation by 2050. This solar contract is a big step toward achieving their goal."

-via TurboFuture, February 21, 2023

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blueberryarchive · 1 year ago

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𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆.

୨ৎpairing: cowboy!jm x reader x preacher!jk

୨ৎword count: 5k

୨ৎgenre: smut, horror, angst

୨ৎtw: dead dove do not eat, mentions of death and gruesome details (human and animal), blood, mentions of arms and physical violence, cursing, smut (blood drinking and playing, period sex, rope play, degrading, dub-con, groping, penetration)

An Ewe and the Captive Bolt (a serie)

Today was his birthday, and for the first time in 28 years, the sky looked like a sheet full of spots. He felt ever since he saw Sirius and Canopus in the sky as two little white suns the night before, that this year was going to be different.

What Park didn't know was that what would be different was the pain he felt on the left side of his arm and his chest. The hot, thick blood soaked his shoulder and eye until it covered his eyelashes. The battered hat clutched in both dusty hands as he entered Carmen's diner, a child's shame on his tight lips.

The poor girl behind the counter dropped the key lime pie from her hands, creating even more noise in the place (which Jimin didn't appreciate being in such a state).

"Christ." She murmured, still static.

"Be a doll and bring me a glass of water, would ya'?" Jimin crawled to one of the seats, grunting as he felt his muscles burn.

The girl approached with a small towel and a terrified look.

"Never seen blood before?"

"No, sir." Her brown eyes were like two walnuts bouncing between Jimin's face and arms. She was adorable, her face round and her hair so curly that she reminded him of his sheep. If she hadn't been the sheriff's daughter, he said to himself every time he saw her.

"Are you hurt, sir? I can call my daddy and-"

"No need for that, sweetheart." He raised his hand. The last thing he needed was to have Montrell in his affairs. "It ain't my blood, it's my horse's"

Apparently, that seemed to affect the young woman more. Jimin was a little offended by her reaction.

"Why don't you bring me a piece of that delicious key lime pie you had in hand and two coffees."

There were more questions in her curved eyebrows, but she just nodded and walked away. Park took off his shirt, leaving a tank top underneath it, with the handkerchief that he kept in his jeans, he began to wet his hands and his face.

His fingers were still shaking from the adrenaline. The shrill sound of the car's tires driving away, the heated laughter cloistered behind the smoked windows, the last sharp sigh of his horse before Jimin ended his suffering. He had to find the bastards who ran over his horse. FH-6077, he read the plate in the distance before crossing the curve, and his brain couldn't stop humming the six digits like a prayer.

The sudden hand on his shoulder calmed the waters, the undoubtable smell of myrrh and tobacco from his companion.

"Happy birthday, buddy." His voice was gentle. If Jungkook ever went above a couple of those decibels, Jimin assumed he was going to die. Even seeing Park's bloody hat on the table and Park's bloodstained boots, he didn't flinch to ask.

Perhaps it was his ecclesiastical nature that gave him the confidence that at one time or another, others would fill the silence with their confessions. But Jimin could see in the father's noble eyes the desperation for an explanation.

"Sure." That was all he said. The girl approached the table with the pie and the coffee.

"Goodnight, Father John." She smiled widely.

"Night, Billie. How's your dad?"

"He really liked your mass today. I did too, I really liked the reading." Jimin noticed how the corners of Billie's lips twitched, contorting herself to try to look prettier for Father John. So obvious and adorable, but of course, Jeon would give nothing more than a shrug and the most predictable questions.

The difference is that Jungkook could fuck the sheriff's daughter. What father didn't want his daughter to be in the sacred hands of Father John?

Father Jeon (or John due to the Americanization of Jungkook's family) was tall, wide like a log, and robust like an unhorned bull. Attractive in every sense, but bland, shy until it hurts.

"'M glad, tell him I will visit Missus Davis next week."

"Do you have a smoke? I'm dying in here."

They both looked at Jimin who was just smiling with his mouth smeared with whipped cream.

"You can't smoke here, sir."

Jimin winked at her, grabbing the white stick that Jungkook handed him as he also sat down to end the unbearable flirting.

"I know, pumpkin. It'll be a quick one, I promise."

The girl didn't say anything else, and she walked away. Disappointment in her walnut eyes.

"I'll marry her in two months." Said Jungkook.

Jimin frowned. Jungkook curled his fingers, pointing for his friend to come closer and light the tip of the tobacco.

"Marry her? You can barely tolerate the poor girl."

"I love her." The father stated as he nodded slowly while he drank his coffee. "She's a good girl, I think she likes me, too."

"Are ya sure?" Jimin joked.

"Where's that bad hoss you've been riding since last month?"

Jimin's blood warmed again, the drags on his cigarette even longer.

"Fuckin' punks ran over 'im and broke his ribs. Had to do it." He pointed to the gun under his hat. The bloody clothes reminded him how clumsy he sure looked trying to pamper a horse that was already three steps away.

FH-6077.

"I'll find them tomorrow."

"I'll help you."

"What are you gonna do?"

They both looked at each other, the watery, electric current between them. Ideas undulated and braided between their cruel smiles.

"Haven't changed a bit, church boy." Smoke weaved into Jimin's blonde hair, his devilish smile vaporizing memories of his teenage pranks.

Jungkook drank the last of his coffee, his face falling back into the same bitter sadness that every father held as if he carried the weight of all the souls and sins of Rivermouth on his back. The silence was long afterward, the black night extended to the mountains, to the sky, to Park's own reflection in the glass. The round face with pronounced lips and rude, detailed eyes, sweet when they feel like it. The spitting image of his mother.

"I have some hippies coming to the ranch tomorrow."

Jungkook nodded, the pressure in the handle increasing, the clack of the cup being clenched by his teeth in a sip. Jimin knew he shouldn't have mentioned the hippies, but it was that ecclesiastical power. He knew that Jungkook hated the smell of pot, the long hair, and the colorful t-shirts, which reminded him of his father, previous father John.

God knows what Jungkook had to witness, the carbonic stench that emanated from that charred skeleton. The tongue pressed between two pieces of blackish board that used to be teeth. The fetid fat that ripped and curdled in the organs. There was not a day in which the poor man did not think about that before going to sleep and found himself face to face with the featureless face of his father, with the incinerated bowls pointed at the eyes of his son. Sitting in the chair under the cross that has sat on that wall since Jungkook's birth.

And Jungkook cried. He would close his eyes and every night, he would grab the skull and make it crunch under his thick hands. The body did not defend itself, it let its boy vent as if he were a sacred entity and knew that at the same time, the next day and every other day, he would appear again in that chair, and Jungkook would never be able to exhaust his anger against him.

"I have to go." It was the only thing he said leaving a ten dollar bill in the table. Park understood. "Go fetch a new hat from my house tomorrow, it's about time you threw that shit in the river."

"Hey."

Jungkook turned around. Jimin stopped smiling.

"Take it home in the morning, I'll make you breakfast before the rodeo."

Jeon looked at the floor with uneasy eyes.

"We'll see."

As he left the diner, the fresh wind conquered the father's soul. Nostalgia washed away his stony face and for the first time in years, he wanted to be a child again. Disappear with Jimin and sleep in the old hayfields of the abandoned Hillside.

He put on his black hat and started walking down the dark street, both hands in his pockets.

Today the smell of boiling fat was stronger than ever, the ghost of his father floated in the swirls of Rivermouth dust and, with it, the remains of the children who were later taken from that same cabin.

The white lace curtains let in the yellowish light of the first rays. The unmade bed, the smell of pine in the sheets.

In one corner of the bed, Park was dressing for the day, the muscles in his shoulder had swollen with the hours and makeshift cloths covered the open, bloody sores. Every so often, he hissed and swore under his breath.

The coffee began to gurgle in the kitchen as he finished putting on his boots, it was barely 6:30, but he already had the eggs frying and the beans hot in the pot. It seemed strange to him that his companion was not already sitting next to the window, Bible open and the first cigarette of the morning in his hand.

He turned off the stove just in time and poured himself a cup. Today he felt more domestic than ever, he had spent the night fixing every detail in the ranch, from the dust on his late mother's china to the rifles displayed in the hallway. To be frank, he spent the entire night cleaning every corner, maybe detailing every object in every room so that at the end of the weekend nothing would be missing, or the crash made him remember how little he's done in 28 damn years.

A porcelain jewelry box his mother had placed in one of the rooms was covered in a thin layer of gray dust; it was his mother's favorite piece. He hadn't opened it since the last time he stole a couple of pearls to buy his first rifle, the red stained his face with shame, and the only thing he could do as an apology was turn the house over with his own handkerchief and clean even the windows. He was surprised that the smell of lye and soap hadn't killed him.

Hearing one of his sheep bleating, he opened the window and decided to lower his chivalry a bit and smoke his first cigarette before Jungkook arrived. In the distance, he could see one of his ewes, fat and terribly woolly, walking slowly towards the barn. She was pregnant and Jimin knew that there were maybe 24 hours left, her skin was bulging, and her bleating was painful and whiny, she couldn't take it anymore.

The curtain caressed Jimin's face with the wind that was beginning to warm up, he took a drag of the cigarette and turned his body towards the kitchen. He felt a strange itch in his chest, the kind that bothers him when he senses a spirit floating near him. The greenish branches and the smell of sausages were mixed up with the subtle gallop of a skinny horse and the unexpected smell of myrrh.

He walked to the front door and opened it to find Jeon's promised hat. He sighed as he saw that not only was it one of his black deathly-looking hats, but he had also planted him at breakfast, sure to go see the grandmother of his very unexpected but predictable fiancée.

Long story short, Jimin had to eat four cowboys' breakfast and the whole pot of coffee, and the hat he would wear to the rodeo today didn't match his outfit at all. Dozing was the only thing he could do after loosening the buckle on his belt and putting the hat on his face.

The leather furniture was sinking under his body, the soft song of the river in the distance, and the birds pecking at his roof took him back to his childhood. Sleeping wherever he wanted without any purpose. He dreamed of the gallops of his first horse: Champ, a Tennesee Walking that had belonged to his grandfather, black as coal, glistening in the sun of his student days and running like a devil in a hurry. He dreamed that he was in public showing the animal to auction it.

"How do you encourage a horse to move forward, Sage?" A woman in the audience shouted.

"I don't know, kick his ass or something." Heavenly laughter coaxed him out of his lethargy.

His body sat on the furniture before he knew it, sweat covering his back, veins marked on the left side of his face. He ran with the unconscious weight of his body to the window, pushing the curtain aside with his finger until he saw the circular corral where his star horse, Arrow, was located, with a stranger on his back.

His fingers reached for the rifle lying on the rocking chair.

The blonde girl staggered on top of the animal while her thin fingers held his hair tightly. The horse's sleepy eyes moved from side to side, snorting as he searched for direction.

"Come on, horsie!" The girl snapped her teeth and laughed as the horse curved to one side. "Are you seeing, Hunter? It's moving."

Hunter was smiling foolishly, lying on the grass, his thin, wavy hair fluttering around his ears like a delicate flower. The dark glasses covered his wounded deer's eyes.

"You're such a cowgirl, my love." His voice was sarcastic.

And with a shot into the air, silence muted nature. He silenced the current, the clucking of the chickens that fluttered in the distance. Hunter, Sage, and Blondie turned to the cowboy who walked slowly across the grass towards them. A whistle from the stranger caused Arrow to raise his front paws until Blondie fell with a screech to the hard ground.

"Kitty!"

"Woah, cowboy." Jimin's silky voice approached, placing the buttplate of his rifle on his shoulder, aiming directly between Hunter's eyebrows. "Move slowly, ya wouldn't want to scare an alarmed man any further, now would ya?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

Blondie or Kitty or whatever her name was, rolled her red eyes.

"What the hell are you doing on my ranch?"

"Let's go, Hunter. I'm not going to talk to cornman." Sage was the tallest of them all, her shorts squeezed her thighs until they were overflowing, and her hair was long like a beach princess.

"Watch your fucking language around me, missy." Gritted Jimin removing the safety on the rifle.

"Sage, for once do you want to shut the fuck up."

Hunter raised his hands, sweat beginning to gather on his wrinkled forehead. His eyes shone as he heard the heels slowly approaching behind Jimin.

"Love." He exhaled.

"Is this part of southern charm, Mr. Park?" Coquettish, the dying accent of someone who once lived in these parts, daring, too much for her own good. But still, he lowered the gun, spitting on the ground.

When he turned around it was as if a pink burst of glitter and vanilla had slapped him from the stupor of sleep. The glasses were square and large, they covered almost her entire face, that was the first thing Jimin saw.

"Ma'am, are these your friends?"

"We are your visitors, cornman." Jimin ignored the Californian's irritating nasal whine as the sweet girl in front of him approached little by little with a smile. He felt the itch again, the one that senses a spirit floating nearby, this spirit was the nebulous memory of your face.

"Could you speak again, ma'am?"

"Sorry?" You laughed, and it was like birds were chirping in your throat. "You're Ari's son, right? I really liked the jams your grandmother used to make."

And oh, it couldn't be more obvious. It couldn't be more evident, not even because God had exploded your name in the sky. It was the stunning makeup and hair wax, it was the sequined heels and Patsy Cline songs reverberating from the old speakers. It was your name in the newspaper almost every week.

It was your sailor costume, the jam falling from your humiliated face, it was Jimin's hand caressing the bulge in his jeans that same night on top of the hay, imagining how you ate the strawberry jam that his mother made.

Now you called yourself Love, the name was as obvious as you were. Of course, your hippie name is Love.

"Miss Peaches '57." His voice was soft and trembling. Your eyes opened in surprise.

"Gods, I didn't even remember that title." You put your hand on your mouth, dressed as a Hollywood girl but your loving manners were indelible.

"Excuse me, where are my manners? Jimin Park." He raised his hand for you to place in yours, light and trusting. A chaste kiss to the back of your hand without stopping to see your eyes behind the orange glasses.

"You can call me Love."

"A sight to sore eyes, Love."

"Always." You responded. Jimin swallowed hard, trying to hide that nostalgic smile, 'pure in every way. With that same smile, he invited the four to go through their rooms, the tension subsiding fluidly with each laugh that came from your blessed lips.

It was as if you said one thing and the sun came a little closer, deorbiting out to your echoes, warming the room and Jimin's cheeks.

"Can you help me look for my suitcases?" You touched the shoulder of the cowboy who agreed and guided you to the front door. Like the good boy his mother raised, he opened the door for you, and outside stood a Packard Caribbean: long, yellow, and sleek as a sunflower.

"Nice ride."

"Thank you, it's from Hunter's dad. He gave it to him for his birthday. Isn't it a beauty?"

"Beautiful." His nose scrunched watching your stomach bulge down your cute little top, hard nipples contouring the pink fabric. You still were just good enough to eat.

Examining the car little by little, a detail began to emerge in his memory. Among them, glowing in the heat of that morning were the six digits from the night before: FH-6077.

When it came to religion Jimin didn't have many opinions.

As a kid his mother went to church every Sunday and took him. He saw the statues of Jesus suffering with indifferent eyes, he made his first communion only because they promised to give him a sip of wine with the host, he listened to the stories of death and plagues as if they were cartoons.

God was a very complicated being, the more he thought about him, the heavier his body became.

To his surprise, God was nothing more than a sham, a wall between you and him. The host, that time Jungkook's father offered him, tasted like nothing and the wine went down his young throat tasteless.

"Body of Christ." You said, the music playing crisply on the record player Hunter had brought. The guitars repeated the same riff over and over, he hated it.

Jimin stuck his tongue out where you placed a small square of magazine paper no bigger than a fingernail. Jimin’s eyelashes fluttered, his knees throbbing as he knelt in front of you, your thumb brushing against his lips before sealing them.

"Amen," he sighed.

The host that you offered to his mortal body was as tasteless as the first, but only Jimin knew the euphoria that, like a hurricane's wind, announced the sweet path that awaited the cowboy.

Jimin was not a man who smoked more than five cigarettes a day, seven if it was a bad day. But your siren song in his ear convinced him to drown his morals in your dark waters, your hands took both sides of his tanned face and you threw him without warning to your sanctuary, towards the steepest rocks, to your glorious eyes. And damn, Park could drink the water from your pupils and die of poisoning.

"I missed you so much, I didn't know it until the moment I saw you." His lips said before thinking about it, narrow pupils lying on the grass next to you. You just laughed, it was the only thing you did and he just admired it.

At one point around noon, Jimin took the steering wheel of the Packard. Hunter, Sage, and Kitty were talking about a record, making strange sounds and asking the opinion of Jimin who was driving down the dusty road, making the engine roar so that you would scream next to him.

"Slow down!" You asked. He went faster, he didn't care.

The purring of the car made Jimin's body pulse, his mouth was dry, his arm no longer hurt, and his lips prayed the license plate of the car, over and over again.

I'm going to find it, he told himself. And when I find him I'm going to make them suffer, as the tips of the horse's bones pierced its dark fur, neighing over his own stupid words trying to calm the wounded animal.

Faster, find it.

Like oil, the green branches of summer became watery and greasy in his vision, and the dust was stalactites that bathed the car in yellow.

"Good luck, cowboy." Kitty approached Jimin, somehow he had made it to the rodeo. The horns announced his name on all four corners and people shouted his last name like the idol he was.

Sage and Kitty kissed his cheeks before he climbed on top of Arrow, the weight of his body creating echoes every time he moved.

There was no one in that audience who saw Jimin on his horse who was not surprised by the agility with which the rope rose above his head and created fluid circles to catch the rough calf that writhed with the knot in its thick neck.

Jungkook saw from a distance how the cowboy's smile was so bright, how he rejoiced at the applause and the roses that were thrown at him. His movements were vehement, fiery, and impulsive like a devil without fear of death.

The hat Jungkook had given him had a small, withered pink carnation on it. He stood up as quickly as he could at the end of the show, but before he could talk to him he only saw Arrow galloping thunderously in the distance, one girl was wearing the gifted hat, she grabbed Jimin's waist and with the other, she gave whiskey to the cowboy. The copper thread falls to his chest and settles on his strap.

"The sight of him today was incredible, I had never seen 'im like that." Billie smiled behind Jungkook, her cheeks red, eyes covered with a fine lust that she probably didn't even recognize.

The firmament rose high above his eyes, there was no star that Jimin didn't feel the overwhelming sound of fire burning in his ears. His body was sweating on the grass, and the smell of nicotine was strong after smoking two cigarettes to settle his reverberating body. The high had passed and his body was a used towel.

He doesn't remember much of what happened, but the remnants of the hallucinogen's burn made him understand that he had the damn time of his life. A laugh left his lips, embarrassed by how easy it was to convince him to do that stupid thing. What Jungkook told him was true: you haven't changed at all, cowboy.

"How's my favorite rodeo king?" The angel landed above his head, you were wearing his hat and a flowered dress.

"Roughened up, I guess." Just like after a good fuck.

"Don't get hooked or you'll end up like Hunter." You combed your hair as you walked around him. "He can't last a day without it or else he starts hitting Kitty."

"Why don't you report it?" Jimin stood following your steps. After looking around him for a few seconds, he realized that he was in the rodeo arena, darkness bathed the stadium. The blue moon showed your silhouette walking over the horseshoe tracks.

"Because Kitty doesn't want to, they are going to get married in a few months. He promised to stop doing drugs when they did. It wouldn't be good for a kid."

There was a lightness in the promises the Californians made to others, they nodded seriously, but you could see the consequences in their evasive gaze.

Jimin nodded.

"Are you always so quiet?"

He nodded again, and they both laughed.

"'M better when I'm not ten feet deep in an LSD hangover, I can assure that."

"Yes, but..." Your silhouette approached his body, and you carried the energy of ten bulls on you. Your immortal look, you haven't changed anything. "I asked if you're always this quiet."

Jimin inhaled as he understood your question.

"When I'm in the stadium I'm more vocal." He again evaded the answer you were looking for so much. His chest beat boldly like the time he saw you covered in strawberries and sugar.

"You were a star this afternoon, your eyes were shining."

"Always."

You raised your eyebrow and scoffed. "Sure thing, sir."

Blood surged to Park's neck, his eyelids drooping, his pride tainting his flirtation. Enough of the games.

"Run." He murmured, saliva pooling in his throat.

You frowned with your typical smile.

"What?"

"I asked you to run." His body suddenly lunged and you became alarmed, raising your hands. "As fast and as far from this stadium as you can."

His pupils didn't move, his soft smile was confident. Your skin grew cold with each step, at first slow and suspicious, the darkness of the large arena was intimidating because it felt like you were not moving forward.

You heard how an object created hollow, sharp sounds in the air. It was his lasso.

"No." You muttered, running even faster.

And swoosh, you fell to the ground. The rope squeezed your neck, leaving your body in mid-air, your tongue came out and your eyes bulged from the sudden lack of air; the hat fell away from you. Your body was no longer yours, your stupid fingers tried to loosen the knot, but it was too late.

The boots approached, collecting the rope that was left over around his arm. The silhouette became part of your blurred vision.

"Stand up."

"I. Can't." Your lips emulated as you writhed like a worm in the dust.

"Lemme' help ya'." Jimin snatched the rope for you to stand up, your knees moved up to him where his fingers loosened the knot a little. "Breathe, little girl. We don't want an accident."

Saliva came out of your mouth in streams and fell to the floor. Jimin grabbed your chin and wiped it.

"Don't make a mess now."

"I'm sorry, sir." And now you sounded as helpless and stupid as Hunter did this morning. It was adorable.

You were afraid to look up, your eyes trained on the hat a few meters away from both of you.

"Tell me, pumpkin. How can two ugly sons of bitches like your parents have such a beautiful girl?" He laughed, dragging the rope to where his hat was, you walked behind him with careless steps. With a couple of blows, he blew the dust off his hat and looked at you again, searching for an answer you didn't even know how to articulate or if you should.

His hand wrapped the rope around his fingers until he had you as close as possible, the smell of tobacco hammered your temples, and your eyelids wrinkled to try to wake up.

Great was the surprise when you felt a pair of dry lips resting on yours, his tongue daringly passed over your lips so that you would open, his moans softening your fear.

His saliva was bitter and lovely, his tongue running flat across the outside of your mouth until it reached your chin and the tip of your nose.

"Let's see, open your mouth, sugar. Don't be shy."

You obeyed as the knot tightened around your neck, moaning as his lips sucked on the tip of your tongue and bit your bottom lip.

"God have mercy." He sighed, squeezing your chin with his hand. "How can you taste so damn sweet."

You moaned as you felt his teeth nibble gently at your neck, his fingers piling the fabric of your dress around his fingers.

“Mm,” you squealed, walking away even when it didn’t suit you. "Can't."

"It's a good thing I didn't ask." Jimin brought you closer, caressing your neck again.

"I'm on my days." Shame sealing your thoughts, in your eyes the hope that just the thought of seeing the blood would disgust him.

Jimin raised his eyebrows and slowly kissed you again, this time with the softness of an apology.

"A cowboy doesn't mind a little dirt." He murmured, touching the soaked towel that covered your underwear, two fingers pushed aside and the burning of your pussy collided with his cold fingers drawing a moan from your hurt throat.

"A good cowboy loves to get dirty." He smiled, removing the two soaked fingers from the red viscosity to put it in his mouth with a frown on his eyebrows. "Mm." He grunted, swallowing slowly.

You were speechless, stupefied. Who was this demon?

"Have you ever ridden a bull before?" His blood-tainted lips said, the idea shocking your senses.

You denied it, and God knows that was the stupidest answer you could give.

The animal began to make a mechanical noise beneath both of them, the leather surface pressed your thighs against the mechanical bull that began to move slowly.

Jimin's bestial eyes did not take off from you, the last of the bottle of whiskey went down his throat in long gulps and pushed the glass into the distance causing a roar.

Your legs were above his defined thighs, the bleeding wound between your legs dirtying his jeans but the cowboy didn't seem to mind. The dress already forgotten outside the stadium playing area.

"We'll go slowly because it's your first time on top." His consideration was so minimal, considering the situation. But you were a woman whose details annihilated your logic.

To the front and sides and then a gentle turn, this is how the animal began. Jimin moved his center with the animal, the bulge in his pants rubbing against your pussy.

One of his hands approached the dripping hole and with four fingers collected the blood until it painted his hand.

“Ah,” he requested, sticking his tongue out and you followed suit. His fingers got smeared on his tongue and cheeks until they reached his neck. With his tongue he passed over his lips, like wine he drank you, like sweet he possessed you and rejoiced.

His tongue entered your space again, the strange and bitter taste of your own blood while with his fingers he removed the zipper of his jeans until he showed that he was not wearing underwear underneath him, his tall and throbbing cock moved under his fist.

"Climb on, doll. You're wet enough for me." He laughed taking your body to sit on top of him. You hugged him as tight as you could as the mechanical animal began to move faster.

"We're going to fall." You whimpered. "Hurts".

"Shh, shh. Let me medicate you, it'll stop hurtin' when I dick you properly." One spank and his fingers squeezed the skin of your ass tightly. "You just have to move with me."

To the front, to the sides, two turns. You just had to keep your legs elevated a little, Jimin's cock sliding smoothly in and out with each movement.

"Now you're getting it. Fuck." Jimin hissed, squeezing your waist with his forearm. "You're quite the cowgirl, Love."

You moaned, pressing your forehead to his. His eyes absorbed every curve, from your breasts to your red-painted thighs. You were an angel, a myth that devours men. Your songs of pleasure echoing on the aluzinc walls.

The animal began to attack, abrupt and deeper.

"Does it hurt?" You asked between moans, watching the fabrics covering Jimin's arm begin to dye again. Jimin denied, cuntdrunk.

You removed the knot of cloth from the wound on Jimin's arm, running your thin fingers over the bleeding muscle. Park hissed, and the walls of your pussy tightened.

More, you wanted more.

Your lips sucked on the sores until you felt the metallic taste in your throat, Jimin pressed your body against yours. One turn, two forwards, three up. Your poor body trembled with the desire for the game to end but your pussy still wanted your walls to expand until Jimin's cock was molded inside you forever.

"If I knew you were such a slut." Park grabbed your hair to pull you away from his arm.

"If I knew cowboys fucked so well." The bloody smile of both of you was devilishly erotic.

The bull stopped suddenly, you looked at the man standing on the other side of you, rifle in hand, hot tears burning his cheeks.

"Jungkook? Jeon!" It was the last thing you heard before you fell face first onto the inflated floor, blood flowing warm and your eyelids falling softly.

#—📃: an ewe and the captive bolt #bts imagines #bts #bts fanfic #jimin imagine #jimin smut #bts smut #jimin x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts x you #bts x reader #jimin x oc #jimin bts #jimin fanfic #jimin dark fic #bts dark fanfic #jimin

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respectthepetty · 7 months ago

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Rose's Day of Asks - the sequel

Hello dear Petty. So I'm sure this is gonna sound like a silly question but it did occur to me so I'm asking it anyway even if I make a fool of myself. Are there are colour combos that just wouldn't work for a ql couple? Or would take an extra amount of effort to make a relationship work, so to speak?

Rose💛

I LOVE YOUR ASKS! They always make my brain spin in the best ways! But, as usual, instead of answering your question about color combos that don't work, I'm going to answer about the most difficult color to be in a relationship with because there is only one:

Brown Boys/Brown Beauties

Everything that makes a Brown Boy/Brown Beauty great is the same exact stuff that makes them so fucking awful.

Brown (and dark oranges) represent the earth, so Earth signs in astrology (Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn) and Brown Boys/Brown Beauties share a lot of qualities with the earth, like being grounded and dependable, but it also means they are stubborn and predictable.

They are hard-workers, and it can become their priority over everything else. They are comforting, but only when they deem the issue isn't trivial because they are practical and conservative in ways that make sense to them.

So that's why even in his heartbreak, Tae in The Trainee didn't waste his meal reservation and invited Pah and Pie in Mee's place. He is practical. Money can't go to waste.

And that's why he ignored his girlfriend because work was more important.

We saw the same issue with Shin Da On in Light On Me as he gave everything to student council but put his love life on the back burner.

They are always so concerned with working and being practical, that they are often difficult to love because there is no room for spontaneity or whimsy, and they just don't see the point in all the theatrics like Ter in Wandee Goodday.

And because they are stubborn, they think what they do is right, no matter how wrong it might be like Phupha in The Promise!

So they go really well with Blue Boys since they are just a more elite and self-sacrificing version of them like Achi and Karan in the Thai version of Cherry Magic.

But we often see them paired with someone more playful and childish like a Purple Person like Kongkwan and Fon in Secret Crush on You.

Or a Pink Person.

Or even someone who is sky/sun-coded to counteract their earth-coding.

They are loyal, smart, and hard-working, which is why they are good partners.

But frustrating as hell because they abide by some ridiculous code based on self-imposed reasons that ONLY MAKES SENSE TO THEM!

And it's just not the boys who do this. The Brown Beauties are exactly the same level of stubborn and hard-working, but we don't see them as often in QLs.

But we see them in straight romances.

And they are usually paired with a Black Brooder.

(In any version)

So it takes an extra effort to love them because they aren't great at first impressions and can come across as a stick-in-the-mud, but once won over, there is nobody who will work harder to maintain a relationship.

#the colors mean things #color coded people in love #brown boys and brown beauties #they are stubborn like a bull #and just as comforting #they are the hardest workers #but also the hardest to love

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onyxscarab · 7 months ago

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Rhubarb Pie

Buggy x gn!Reader

Tags: sfw/silly/mutual pinning/food

"Stop following me, stalker!" Buggy yelled at you from across the stone road. You couldn't help but grin mischievously at his accusation. "I'm not following you, dipshit. YOU'RE the one following me! I docked on this island first!" you yelled back, unable to contain your amusement. Buggy's face turned a delightful shade of red as he sputtered in disbelief, and you couldn't resist a hearty laugh at how easily you had riled him up.

"Hey! Wanna go try this pie place? It's pretty good!" you called out, attempting to extend an olive branch. Buggy's response was predictably defensive. "Why would I go eat PIE with YOU?!" he yelled back, his tone a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. Undeterred by his bristling demeanor, you shrugged and quipped, "Suit yourself. I'm going this afternoon. See ya!" With that, you turned on your heel and made a show of running off, leaving Buggy to continue screaming profanities in your wake.

As you walked along the charming stone road, you couldn't help but relish the exhilarating exchange with Buggy. Despite his blustering protests, you knew that deep down, he secretly enjoyed the banter as much as you did. The thought brought a satisfied smile to your face as you pondered the delightful possibility of indulging in some delectable pie later that day."

As time passed, the brilliant blue sky gradually transitioned into a picturesque canvas of orange and pink hues, characteristic of this enchanting coastal region. The setting sun cast a warm and soothing glow, painting the sky with a breathtaking display of colors that captivated all who beheld it. As you sat outside a charming bakery, you gazed up and spotted your friend with striking blue hair walking towards you. The smell of freshly baked pastries filled the air, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.

"Hey Buggs, I’m so glad you decided to join us," you exclaimed with a warm smile. Buggy stood with his arms crossed, eyeing the scene of your crew mates enjoying their stolen pies. He had thought it would be just you and him.

"Whatever! I was hungry and happened to pass by," he grumbled with a slight pout. Turning around, you grabbed a plate with a generous slice of pie and gestured for him to follow you. He silently complied, maintaining the scowl on his face. The two of you settled on a nearby cobblestone wall, gazing out at the setting sun. "Here," you handed him his plate, and the two of you ate in silence.

"What flavor did you get?" Buggy inquired, noticing that his pie was a different color. "Strawberry rhubarb pie! It's pretty good," you replied with a mouthful of pie. Buggy winced as you spoke with your mouth full. "Never had it before, but after watching you talk with pie in your mouth has-" Before he could finish, you playfully shoved a fingerful of pie into his mouth. "Oh, hush up."

Buggy spit out the pie and drank some water. "You're nasty! I'll never have pie or ANY food with you again!" he exclaimed, stomping away. "Wait, don’t leave me!" You laughed, chasing after him.

He would never admit it, but he secretly enjoyed having pie with you that afternoon, even if you did put your grimy fingers in his mouth. Overall, a 10/10 experience.

Note: Just a lil something short and sweet ♡

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown #one piece #x reader #buggy x y/n #captain buggy #buggy the genius jester #gn!reader

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oshinohoshi · 7 months ago

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Oshi no Ko Chapter 161 Thoughts

I guess we're in the endgame now.

Since last chapter I've been worried that Hikaru's remorse after watching Ai's DVD was all an act but thankfully that's not the case. He was crushed after learning that Ai loved him and so the twins still delivered a revenge worse than death

But regarding Hikaru's motives, what of his words in ch 154?

Does he or does he not understand that Ai was an ordinary girl? Trying to ensure that Ai remains unparalleled is clearly forcing a selfish fantasy on her

I can extrapolate that the guilt stemming from her death created an all consuming need to preserve her memory and a desperation to do anything he could for her, so he decided to elevate Ai of B Komachi while ignoring what Ai Hoshino would have wanted

I just don't see how a supposedly smart guy would think that the best thing he could do for the love of his life was to kill her precious daughter

Hikaru was accused of manipulating Nino but this has Nino written all over it. Maybe she hypnotized him

Hikaru is a conundrum and speculating is getting me nowhere

Now on to the main event. Aqua is trying to give his dad a run for his money with poorly thought out plans

Why have a strategy meeting about how to protect Ruby with all the smart, capable people in your life when you can stab yourself?

Miyako is going to kill him twice for this

But Aqua reaching this point hits hard. Because despite throwing his life away, he's finally thinking about the future. He has hopes and dreams. He wants to call Miyako his mom. LOOK AT THIS PANEL. I'm sobbing. God, he better call Ai "mom" too

Aqua isn't trying to murder Hikaru out of guilt and revenge but rather for Ruby's future. And uhhh... ok, I have mixed feelings about this reframing of his suicidal tendencies

But it is growth and an Aqua who wants to live is better than one who doesn't, even if the end result is the same

Aqua stabbing himself in the same place as his mom with the same look on his face and the same sweat drops while creating a lie stemming from love is too much

I am no longer asking for a spinoff manga where nothing bad ever happens. I am begging on bended knee

Kudos to Mephisto for foreshadowing this

A certain group of shippers want to say that Ruby is the most important person to Aqua because he's sacrificing himself for her and I just want to point out that while of course Ruby is his treasured sister, Aqua thought of Miyako, Kana, Akane, Mem, and Taiki in this chapter. Aqua's love is not finite. We're not dividing up a pie here. No girl has "won" his love over another, okay? There are different kinds of love

Now if only Aqua could truly recognize just how loved he is

Will Aqua die? I've always said that no main character besides possibly Kamiki would die because while Ai's death was a senseless tragedy, she died with a smile on her face. She died knowing she loved her children and having achieved her lifelong dream to love

I never felt Oshi no Ko was a tragedy but rather that it has dark, tragic elements. But I've stopped trying to predict things

Next week: I can't even muster up my usual cheesy jokes. Just please live, Aqua. I don't care if Crow Girl swoops out of the sky riding a dragon called Deus Ex Machina to pluck him out of the sea or Hikaru turns out to be a war medic who can stitch him up, he just can't die.

#oshi no ko #oshi no ko spoilers #chapter review

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transmurderbug · 11 months ago

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🦚 Weekly Tag Wednesday! 🦚

On an actual Wednesday this time.

Thank you for tagging me Kat @mybrainismelted, Nosho @creepkinginc, Evie @energievie, Ice @spookygingerr, Jess @jrooc and

Pie @gallapiech 🥰

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name: Sky. Sometimes.

where in the world is carmen sandiego? (or you): Carmen is in Antarctica. She's apparently a penguin. And I'm under a pine tree.

ok, so this week we are going to snoop into your google search. type in each phrase and tell us what the first suggestion is that google gives you!

What is the best way to… avoid getting spyware on a machine? The "machine" part really drives this home.

Where can I… watch Hazbin Hotel? Are you asking me? Which version? Now I'll be humming all night, thanks.

How old is… Hungary? No need to google this one, it's pretty easy to remember, if you wanna look at the founding of the state. My memory is not what it used to be, but this one is burnt into my brain, I'm pretty sure. It's about to be 1024 years old. Why am I answering these questions though? 🤨 I do love history, to be fair.

How long does it take… to learn Hungarian? What does Google take me for? I want to see the algorithms behind these predictions. A long time, I'm pretty sure.

How many… days between dates? What dates?? Someone help me out, I'm getting confused.

Who set the record for… the fastest time to reach one billion views on YouTube? What is happening.

When did… the Queen die? Which one.

What does it feel like to… get shot. I've been told a scraped wound is worse, that's all I know. Again, why am I answering these?

Can you… run it? Run what...?

When you… say nothing at all. This is a Ronan Keating song. Who I only heard of when he was a guest artist at a symphonic concert I went to. Now you all know him too.

Why do… men have nipples? What kind of a question is this? Why does any mammal have nipples! Biology, dear Google.

Is there a way… to save Karlach.? Ehm. Spoiler alert?

How old do you have to be… to go to college? However old you are when you finish high school. Don't give up on your dreams!

Where do the… Simpsons live? Why would I want to know this?

What is the best time to… post on TikTok? Google wants both Nosho and me to become influencers, this is just another sign.

And to finish us off… What comes up when you type in Shameless? szereplők. I love the language switch. I do however know who the characters are, thank you.

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Well, this was a wild ride. Never in my life have I googled or even thought about googling these things. I either know the answer or I don't even think about the subject. Good job, Google predictions! Job failed successfully! This was pretty fun though. (Just to soften the blow, the Karlach question probably comes from previous BG3 searches. The rest? What even.)

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Tagging, because I'm on time! Yay! Voluntary, as always, if you want to skip, here, have these blueberries: 🫐

@ian-galagher, @transmickey @stocious @suzy-queued @blue-disco-lights @deathclassic @spacerockwriting, @ms-moonlight-inn, @sam-loves-seb @samantitheos, @krysmiss @look-i-love-u @sickness-health-all-that-shit, @heymrspatel @michellemisfit @sweetbee78 @grumble-fish @metalheadmickey @rayrayor @crossmydna @thisdivorce @callivich @gardenerian @lupeloto @francesrose3

@palepinkgoat @heymacy @lee-ow @roryonic @thepupperino

@doshiart and anyone else I'm probably forgetting!

#tag game #weekly tag games #tag game wednesday #google predictions failing at life like I am #I love this trope

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choking-on-dandelions · 2 years ago

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Good morning, dearest friends! I'm delighted to say we're back from up north and it was a BLAST!!!

So first of all, whoo. what a drive. From the heart of the city to the softspoken winds of the water it was erm, give or take about 5-6 hour car trip. Ya girl got pockets of car sickness but I managed not to throw up so yay!

The four of us traveled through Traverse City and omg THE CROWDS BRO I COULDN'T. We did weave through the people to catch the air show, that was so cool! All you heard was the planes ripping through the sound barrier as you watch them do their tricks and spins and barrel rolls through that bright blue sky. They looked so close that you could reach out and touch them! So many cool tricks! The people were a little less than stellar, only because I get panicky in big gatherings, but the cherry pie was worth it. Soo worth it.

Okay, now, off to the Sleeping Bear Dunes! We arrive in fair time and pull up to the BIGGEST piles of sand I've ever seen with my own two eyes! I get nervous, a little dizzy just looking at this beastly climb, and immediately predict this is going to be the funnest nightmare ever. (I was right btw!) We all take a whiz then start climbing, each of us donning our breeziest most death-proof clothing we packed, and right away I resort to scaling the FIRST dune on my hands and feet, growling and howling like a monster and chasing after my boyfriend while other tourist watched and laughed. It was all fun and games until about the 11th pole marker on our never-ending hike. How long did it take, you may ask, to get through these sand hills? I will tell you, dear friend:

It took us, in grand total, a whopping 6.5 hours to get from the car, down to the beach, back to the car, all without the relief of adequate shade from any trees, and running dangerously low on water after we saw for ourselves that there were no facilities on the shore. No bathroom, no water fountains, just sand and lake and lots of cool rocks. We rationed the water we had for about the last 3 miles of our hike, only sipping enough to wet our mouths. When I tell you we got burned bad. My back is just now starting to peel. Turns out, after all was said and done, we had mistakenly taken the longest and steepest path there was coming and going. But we did it! And we didn't even need to call the rescue team (good thing too, hello $2,000 rescue bill, no thanks)! But watching some of these other people hike our way WITHOUT ANY WATER OR ANYTHING, I was like '???' So we went out of our way coming back to warn others that they might want to turn back and prepare for the worst. They were grateful to say the least lol.

From there we carried on towards Cadillac and meandered around the country roads until we found a cozy little hole-in-the-wall bar and grill and stopped off for dinner. The food there was excellent! My friends Cassie and Annette got a giant ceaser salad and mac n cheese with a side of fried cheese curds, my boyfriend David got a burger with fries and a side of mac n cheese, and I nibbled on a plate of veggies with a few fries on the side. I got something super light because I suspected I'd doze off in the car right after eating; sure enough, I was right lol.

From there we drove about an hour to our hotel room and packed it in for the night. Super nice little place, we lucked out and got one of the best rooms with lakeside view and a backroom door leading straight to the heated pool room. Everyone else stayed up for a bit, I was knocked out lol. We slept a few hours, got up the next morning and showered and whatnot, then took off for the local beaches for some serious rock and shell hunting. We found some neat stuff: David found some cool Petoskey stones and me and Cassie and Annette were chasing shells around the shore. We found a bunch of big snail shells and a few clamshells, I was hoping to dig up some gemstones somewhere like how I did out in North Carolina, but sadly no such luck this time. But that's okay. We beach hopped for a few hours, had a few seltzers in the sun, then began our journey home, saw a haunted-ass barn and belted out some car karaoke for a while.

Y'all, it. Was. The. BEST!!! It was the getaway we all needed and some amazing bonding time, even though we all nearly died out on the dunes lol totally worth it! We're already planning another vacation for next year, we wanna go gem hunting up in the mountains. Gonna be bomb!

I'm so glad to be home though. It's good to be back!

#bunnygirl speaks #vacation #michigan #traverse city #sleeping bear dunes #great lakes #summer fun

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invisiblegarters · 2 years ago

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Not-So-Micro BL Reviews

This is mostly me doing catch up on all the things that I have been watching/was watching and then abandoned when I found Midnight Museum and fell like a ton of bricks (this is still something that confuses me but what can you do, really?) It will be long - I missed or ignored a LOT for a while.

Catch Up Dramas:

All the Liquors - This one never did anything revolutionary, but I have to admit that I liked the awkwardness of Chef. I really liked BFF cutie though. He was seriously the highlight of the entire show for me. Cute, if mostly predictable and not really plot heavy. Very KBL kiss. 7.5/10

Our Dating Sim - This was just a little gem of a series. The chemistry was on point and the conflicts made sense from what we were given of the characters. For how short it was, the emotional arc was satisfying. It's a solid little drama, and I quite enjoyed it. Good kisses, too, and not just for a KBL. 8/10

A Shoulder to Cry On - I just don't think that this one was for me, and that's okay. Part of me feels like if I were younger it would have landed better - it's dealing with some pretty serious topics and yet something about it feels a little too OTT for me, like they're kids playacting at adult emotions rather than it being genuine. IDK. I wanted to like it more than I did. This is one of the ones where the time skip actually worked in its favor though. 6/10

The New Employee (I know, don't look at me) - you know, I don't know why I randomly stopped watching this. It's adorable, and it actually does manage to convey the business drama pretty well on top of the cute, which I didn't expect from such a short drama. They also made me really dislike Manager Park, so kudos to them for that. I do like that Jong Chan genuinely believes in Seung Hyun's ability, and that he encourages him in that capacity. Overall this show was just cute, okay? It was. 8/10.

Bed Friend - I had such high hopes for this one. High apple pie in the sky hopes, even. I love me a FWB that gets serious (even if King was clearly pining for more from like, day 1 I don't even care. I've been wanting that fix since Between Us (another one where at least one of the FWB was clearly ready for more almost immediately, but hey what can you do). And these two are very, very good at selling that they want each other so kudos for that (and they clearly still want each other after the feelings and do not turn into blushing maidens who apparently haven't heard of kissing before, Team)). But around the time the gross boss Krit decided to invite himself over for family dinner with worst mother and SA stepdaddy and worst mother was like "oh yes he's perfect for you, son" I tuned out and didn't bother tuning back in until recently. I feel like there's only so much misery you can pile on one character before I either stop caring or start finding it unintentionally hilarious. I have to keep reminding myself that I am a Westerner so I don't understand the family dynamics in these things, that's all. Honestly Uea's inability to cut his awful mother out of his life is just not something that I can resonate with. It does amuse me though how often parents in these dramas are either amazing or awful, with not a lot of in between, normal sort of hey, sometimes parents do dumb things too because they are fallible and human. I guess that doesn't make for good drama. King and Uea are very cute, though, and I do really like them when they get to just chill and be boyfriends with each other, although I have to admit the end got a little too saccharine for me. I swear I can be so picky, sigh. The show might not have fulfilled all my hopes, but once it got off the misery train it was fine. 8/10

Moonlight Chicken - I loved this drama. And the funny thing is that it was low on my radar - literally the only reason I was planning on watching at first was due to First and Khao. That was it. The plot wasn't even really my thing, I figured I'd just be waiting for those two to show up and that would be that. But nope, I loved it. This felt like just the kind of grown up drama I've been aching for, one that was ultimately less BL and more, well, life, with all of its complications and messes. It just so happened that the main characters were gay. More of this, please, Thailand. I promise you that there is an audience for it. I liked how messy it was, and in such a believable way. From Wen and Alan's extremely slow breakup to Jim's trauma becoming a sort of shield for him against opening up to people to Heart and Li Ming's wholehearted jump into a first relationship, the characters felt real and grounded and i loved it. No one was perfect (well, except Gaipa who is honestly a sweetheart too good for this world - I loved his huge crush on Jim even though I knew it wasn't gonna go anywhere, he was so sweet and unassuming about it, best unrequited love ever). Jim especially won my heart, because the way his walls worked was so relatable to me. I think that some people don't quite get how easy it is to shut yourself off, and how once you do it it is so much easier to just keep letting past trauma keep you from moving forward, not necessarily in ways that hinder your entire life, just parts of it. Jim's utter reluctance to let Wen in and his worry about Li Ming made so much sense to me. He'd been burned and burned hard, it's only natural that he'd want to protect his beloved nephew from the same pain, even though he went about it in the worst way possible most of the time. :D But that's not how it works for the young, and that's a good thing. Yeah, Li Ming might crash and burn, he and Heart might not be forever, but that's okay. I have heard people complaining that Earth is way too young to play Jim, but I honestly thought he suited the role, actually. It might be my favorite role of his yet. Final Verdict: 9.5/10. This was almost my perfect drama and if I could have more of this I would be delighted.

New (to me) Dramas

A Tale of a Thousand Stars - watched because of Our Skyy2. I wanted to be looking forward to more than just The Eclipse and Never Let Me Go, haha. It was fine. I really liked Tian, even when he was being a spoiled shit. There's something about Mix, I think, that makes him extremely watchable. I do not really feel that way about Earth and I was mostly annoyed by Phupha. *shrug* I wanted him to actually talk to Tian rather than making decisions for him - sure Tian was impulsive but so much of his problem was with his parents running his life, he didn't need that in a lover, too. Once Phupha pulled his head out of his ass it was better, but my goodness that took a while, didn't it? Also what is it with this pairing and these weird "does he love me or my sister/the woman who's heart I have" plots? Glad Moonlight Chicken moved away from that kind of plotline, even if I do actually really like Cupid's Last Wish (more than this one, actually - I get the sense that is unusual but I don't care, I love it). Overall though this wasn't bad, even if I felt like it dragged a bit in places. Am genuinely sad that they put Khaotung in a Earh/Mix vehicle and didn't have him gently pining over either of them. He did it so well in Moonlight Chicken, after all. Final Verdict: 8/10

Star and Sky - Star In My Mind & Sky in Your Heart - these were fine. I felt like there was a lot of drama over very little, but they're decent little slice of life kind of dramas. Easily consumed, easily forgotten. 6/10 for both.

Rewatches (because why the hell not right)

The Eclipse - I just love this drama. *shrug* It's so incredibly rewatchable. Plus, you know. I love Akk, he's exactly my kind of character. I honestly can't wait for the Our Skyy2 episodes but they look a little nuts. Honestly though I don't even care so long as we get some cute - I think that there were enough tears during the show proper. Yes both First and Khao cry well but still.

Cupid's Last Wish - You know, the first time I watched this I think that I said I was pleasantly surprised because I expected it to be a lot less obvious that Korn was so gone on Win that no one else even entered his big, dumb head. I was worried that it would be more of a "oh, I fell in love with you as a girl but it's still you" thing, and it...was very much not. I thought they also did a real good job walking the line between showing Win and showing Lin, and I have to give a lot of credit to Jan for her portrayal of Win as Lin. Pitch perfect, really. I say again, there's just something about Mix that is likeable - I've enjoyed him in ever single drama I've seen him in thus far, although Earth as Moonlight Chicken's Jim has my whole heart. He really shone in that role. My one quibble with this is how everyone just forgives the mom for being awful. I don't know, I guess I'm just a grudge holder. Anyway I originally rated this at a 7.5, but due to sheer rewatchability and how much fun I actually do find it, I'm moving it up to an 8.5/10. It's fun, I like it a lot, I will probably watch it again at some point.

Looking Forward To

I'm honestly kind of out of the loop with this! I don't really know what is coming up, so my list is very short:

Only Friends

Dangerous Romance

Both of them seem messy, messy, and i am ready for it. I also can't wait for the Utsukushii Kare movie but I'm going to have to, so.

I'm also excited for whatever comes up for the renewed drama shower slot for MBS. I wasn't a fan of all of them last year (I loved one of them beyond all reason, liked two, was meh on two and DNF one), but I love that I can look forward to at least one drama coming out of Japan for a while.

Whew! That wasn't so bad, was it?

#all the liquors #our dating sim #a shoulder to cry on #the new employee #bed friend #moonlight chicken #a tale of a thousand stars #star and sky the series #the eclipse #cupid's last wish #catch up #micro reviews #except not really #did you really think i wouldn't find a way to get some Midnight Museum talk in here?#oh ye of little faith #i work that show into everything

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cosmic-codex · 1 year ago

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Chapter 10:

Fate and Fortune

It had been days since the monkey king had set off. When he started the voyage he didn't expect this much boredom. His days were filled food, blue skies, blue ocean and steering the raft. Being alone on a raft was taking its toll.

He almost regretted his journey. Almost. Despite all the obstacles, he vowed he'd face them all, no matter how deadly or boring. Desperate he started looking towards the sky for any sign of being close. Besides if you could tell the directions with the sun, maybe clouds tell how far land was, right?

Finding nothing but pineapple, monkey, turtle, heart and peach shaped clouds, monkey king went for a peach only to find a bird perched on one of them, pecking it continuously to procure it's food.

Not happy with his guest he exclaimed, "Hey, stop, stop it. That's my food! Get your own!" and started swatting it away, only to notice more coming for their supper "Now there's more of you?! What, are you going invite the whole family now?!"

"Where are you even coming from?!"

The monkey king paused. "Where are you coming from?" he murmured.

As far as he knew, birds didn't come to a raft in the middle of an ocean, even when migrating. Which implied that they came from solid land.

Following a bird, who seemed to have had it's full, the monkey king steered the raft in hopes seeing more than just the big blue sea and he did. As soon as the raft touched land he quickly tied it nearby and cheered. He never thought he'd be this happy to feel something as mundane as sand, yet here he was.

"Thank you very very much! I'd hug you but I can't. I gotta go but you can keep the food as my gratitude. I'll be taking a bag though. Bye!" the monkey king ran off as the birds continued pecking ignoring him.

The monkey king soon arrived at the human village. Realising he'd need clothes to fit in, he quickly acquired them, stolen from an unfortunate soul, and began wandering around, in hopes of finding someone who could teach immortality or at least a few clues.

Not finding much he moved on to the next village and the next. The more villages he crossed the more he learnt about humans and their societies. He learnt how to walk, talk and even how to read like them, among other things.

He also learnt of what most humans desired, which in most cases was always fame and money. Unlike his monkeys, who relaxed and enjoyed their lives behind the water curtain cave, humans were often focused on building bigger houses and gaining more money, something they used to barter goods.

A man worked all day, not even enjoying the breeze, and came home completely wiped out, not even gazing at the night sky, all for gaining more and more items which wouldn't even matter in the end. Just imagining his monkeys living like that, having all life drained out of them like that, sent shivers down his spine.

As he made to yet another village eating some leftover peach pie, given to him by a nice old lady he helped earlier, he saw a bunch of people gathered near a poster advertising the arrival of some seer in town, known for its very accurate depictions of the past, present and future.

Monkey king though predicted it to be a scam, having encountered many along his travels and once almost even being made into one. Though with his curiosity piqued, he went to the location mentioned in the poster only to find a long line waiting for their own futures to be revealed.

Waiting for a long time the monkey king finally entered the tent, expecting it to be fake though still holding out a tiny bit of hope for it to be real and give some help in his quest of immortality.

And so he entered he found the dark tent full of candles and smoke, coming from the many lit incenses around the tent, making him cough. At the back of the tent he saw table filled a glass orb, some cards and other things he didn't recognise.

There were two chairs near the table, one he presumed for him and another at the opposite side of the table, where a cloaked figure sat. Fake or not, he was intrigued.

As he sat in his seat the seer spoke "Come child, enter my domain as we unfurl your past, meet your present and look into the future." though they paused when they looked at the monkey properly, "My, it is quite rare for monkeys to come for divination. Now I'm curious, what's a creature like you doing here, dressed like a human?"

"You're a seer right? Why don't see yourself?" the monkey king sneered. Maybe he was being a bit too rude, but when people tended to point out his species, things didn't end up being very delightful.

"You think I'm a fake, don't you?"

"Of course you're a fake! You're lying to people just to gain more money."

"When did you think I was a fake? While waiting half a day in line or when entered my tent?" the seer teased.

"I knew it right away when I read the advertisement."

"And yet you came." the seer smirked knowingly.

"It was just to prove that you were a liar. A fake seer with no powers."

"Oh naive monkey, I may be a liar but that doesn't mean I'm not a seer. I can predict other's fate, just as I will predict yours."

"Yeah, yeah, and I'm a god. Let's say if you were a real seer, why would you con people instead of giving real divinations?"

"Just because I'm a seer, doesn't mean I can't earn money. Looking into the future for hundreds of people a day can be really tiring for a real seer. Now do you want me to predict your fate or not? I'll even yours for free~"

"But I already pai-"

"Hush now. Let me focus." the seer said as the candles began to flicker and the tent seemed to have even more smoke, making it harder to see.

"What you are looking for,

Will let you live forever more,

Your light shall shine brighter than most,

However many won't agree with what you chose,

I see a light helping others find their own,

But I also see it destroying someone's home,

Your fate will be decided by how you use your flame,

But your doom will be decided by who you choose to blame."

"..."

"Well, vision's over. Time for you to go monkey. I have other customers to tend to." the seer chirped.

"Wait! What was that supposed to mean?" the monkey king asked

"You will know what it means when your time comes. Now move along. Time is money I'm not wasting." the seer replied now pushing the monkey out.

"Fine! And just so you know I still don't believe you." the monkey huffed as he left the tent, not waiting to hear the seer's reply.

"Oh, we'll see Sun Wukong." the seer chuckled.

------------------

Masterpost

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#fables of journey to the west #journey to the west #jttw au #monkey king #sun wukong

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jetravenex · 5 months ago

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I love messing with this map. It's also funny how easy it is to change the colors by accident. I was running different scenarios and then I noticed the numbers were off and I was like... wait why is Utah blue? That's not right. *reset* oh yeah no it's a red state

Numbers look off again. There is no way Alabama would go blue *reset* yeah it's a red state XP

But anyways, my fondness for playing with the map aside, I think this is solid though I wouldn't count out the possibility of getting Georgia or Florida just yet. I can't really nail down an honest to goodness real prediction because I have not really sat with and analyzed the data... but here's what I'd like to see:

This would be pretty nice to see. I don't know if we'll see NC or Florida flip or we'll hold Georgia... but it'd be nice

And then the absolute pie in the sky, stars align, manifesting big blowout energies of victory this would make me believe in the good in the world and that God really wanted to tell DonOLD to go eff off.

Texas because it's trending purpley and purpley every election cycle, and with the MSG hate rally, he might've turned off latinos that were dump curious there. Highly unlikely, pie in the sky, but that's why I said this was the stars align situation. And then Ohio is because screw Shady Vance, and also because of how much Springfield had to deal with because of Donold's words. Dunno if that's enough of a reason for Ohio to flip. But it'd be a big middle finger to the pair of them XP.

Here is my prediction, I might being hopeful here

#us politics #I saw someone post a map where we flipped texas but didn't keep everything else #and I was like 'screw that I can hope harder'#Manifesting something like this for election night #I really want the awful orange man to just go away #I want decency to return to our politics along with a focus on moving ahead

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tea-knitting-adeliers · 3 months ago

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Group 19 Chapter 6

Sorry it took so long!

They were all crammed together, brightly colored pillows and blankets piled onto their beds. The room was on the edge of what could be described as clean, just barely meeting Angelica’s standards.

The curtains were open, the sky outside still dark, just a sliver of sun on the horizon.

She clapped her hands, once, twice, and then again.

“Wake up! Wake up!”

The room’s silence was gone, replaced with chaos as each of them tried to get ready as fast as possible. They pulled out clothes, washed their faces, tied their hair back. Each of them wore a matching pale green apron, with different flowers sewn along the bottoms. They were Treenahinn presents from Jocelyne, she liked doing that sort of thing.

Janine was the first out the door, shoes half on, Angelica stepping out of the way just in time to avoid being ran into as she barreled past her.

She stayed where she was, supervising the rest of the girls as they got ready, before turning around and walking to the kitchen.

When they were all there, she pulled out a chalkboard and started writing down the schedule for the day as she spoke to them.

“Today, as you may know if you were paying attention, is our quarterly fundraising meeting. I’m going to put this very simply. If you are going to choose a day to not work hard, don’t choose today, unless you want Miss Bates to decide that she needs to have a talk with me, and nobody wants that.”

The rest of them laughed, and Angelica glared at them, barely suppressing a giggle of her own.

“I know, I know, professionalism may seem silly, but I hate paperwork, and if we mess this up, I will make whoever I like the least in the moment that it was given to me do it, so at least try to take this seriously.”

Near the edge of the administrative section was a large room that was typically used as a community space. It connected to many other locations, and had a view of one of the gardens.

It had been selected for the event, and they started out with clearing the usual furniture from the room, replacing it with tables for food and beverages and the occasional chair to sit down in.

When they were done with that, it was time to prepare said food and beverages. Angelica had insisted that there would be blackberry pie, she and Catherine were making it.

“Will you be attending, Catherine?”

“Of course. You?”

“Always. Any predictions for this one?”

“Oh, further escalation, arguments, some sort of response from management.”

“Controversial,” Angelica responded, smirking.

“I know. It’s what happens every time, figured it was a safe bet.”

“I don’t even really have to ask if you know about this, but you heard about the removal vote, right?”

“She won’t do it.”

“That’s what I said!”

Catherine was smiling as she spoke.

“This is what always happens. Mr. Sena gets more aggressive, Mr. Barnier gets pissed off. Miss Bates threatens to do the vote if she doesn’t get her way, Mr. Sena tells everyone about it, but he comes to his senses and shuts up for a little bit, she calms down, and the whole thing starts all over again. I don’t understand why anyone still actually thinks anything will ever come of it.”

They rolled out the dough, placed it in the tins, shaped the crusts.

“He has a chance to ruin things if he’s obnoxious enough,” Angelica responded, “He had better not completely mess this up.”

They had spent days preparing, to ensure that everything would be ready by that evening. The furniture was set in place, directions to the room were posted, the place was a maze and people were quite good at accidentally ending up somewhere they were not supposed to be.

Some might believe that Angelica would take offense at her lower status, imagining that the woman would seek membership, but that was not the case. She was perfectly happy in her position. She was afforded some protections by her role as head of staff, but her affiliation with Group 19 was not a life sentence.

Her ability to leave the premises intact, a great privilege she knew, was seen by many as inferior because it was marked not by a brand, but by a piece of fabric folded in her pocket. Angelica saw differently, she appreciated her freedom to enter without commitment.

What’s more, her perceived lesser status gave her an invisibility within the barrier, the assumption was made that all of her actions were done with work in mind. It would be no different to enter the room now, to prepare for the event, than it would be that evening, when she put on her nicest dress and moved silently through the crowd. They would not see, and she could observe without notice.

The tables were piled with food, flaking crusts filled with dark berries, skewers of seared meat, stews, bread of every variety that they knew how to prepare. The room sparkled, her black hair caught the light of the setting sun.

Angelica returned to her room, which belonged to her, and no one else. She put on a nice dress, she styled her hair, applied some makeup, and prepared to observe.

Michelle sat too, the glow of the outside world shining through the plain windows. She removed the dress she wore, replacing it with something new, white, with sleeves that draped over her arms, waist and wrists tied with bows, skirt falling nearly to the floor.

She braided her hair, silvery strands running down her back, then scooped it into a bun, the still-empty hairpins securing it in place.

They were expensive, she knew. At times, when there was nothing better to do, she would wonder how he had gotten them; he preferred to spend money on things he liked or saw as practical. There had been no occasion, he had just given them to her. The design was ornate, two prongs extended from a set of small flowers, tiny leaves decorating the space around them. They were by far the nicest thing Michelle had ever owned, and she felt somewhat awkward wearing them. Those feelings were, however, irrelevant in the moment, her discomfort was unimportant.

The sky was dark as the two of them entered the room, a night sky spattered with stars, like tiny eyes meeting hers.

Shining faces of different colors, bodies dressed in glittering clothes, the little groups that their organization had split itself into stood together, talking amongst themselves as overeager members cornered potential donors, either not noticing how their eyes awkwardly darted across the room or choosing to ignore it.

Mr. Barnier stood for a moment, observing, before his eyes settled on some other members that he knew. He walked over, Michelle anxiously following behind him.

Their faces lit up slightly in recognition, they exchanged pleasantries, none of them being the type for affection.

They were interrupted by a young Crescian woman, dressed in expensive clothing, her long nails filed to sharp points. Michelle thought the woman wore too much makeup, her lips were painted to the point of being bright red, but she quickly pushed the thought aside, imagining how ridiculous she herself must look.

“Hello ma’am,” Barnier said to her, his still-young face crinkled in a smile, “What brings you here?”

His voice was respectful, but if possible, also humorous, betraying a feeling of interest that Michelle knew was not present. In a moment, it was as if he had changed completely, his typically cold face lit up with genuine-enough emotion. It was a careful game he played, not appearing too forward or too disinterested. The woman would believe him, Michelle almost did, but this was the same man who had destroyed countless people without so much as a hint of guilt.

She found it strange how easily he danced between people, putting on emotions and relationships like a new set of clothes, but she was not him, and 173 years was quite a long time for him to practice it.

She scanned the crowd yet again, the faintest hint of a stranger’s laugh just barely audible over the voices in the room.

Mr. Sena stood too, in the center of the room, eating a slice of blackberry pie, speaking to a man who appeared Sharteshanian. For just a moment, he moved his head, the two making eye contact before he turned his gaze to the Crescian woman, who Michelle had heard introduce herself as Jodi Lamm. Then, as if it had never happened, he returned to the man.

Angelica too, was making conversation, but all the while she was focused on Barnier and Sena, observing the glances between the two men.

Ben had accompanied his father for much of the night, eating the food that had been provided, attempting to pass the time; in his mind, all of them were quite boring. Hours had passed when he finally slipped away from the crowds.

Alone, save for the half eaten slice of blackberry pie that he held in one hand, and the warm cup of tea that he held in the other, Ben Sena moved through the hallways.

He was aimless initially, but decided to sit down on one of the nearby balconies. He believed it to be empty, but he quickly realized that he had been wrong. As he opened the doors, passing over the threshold, he saw her.

She was facing away from him, strands of hair made golden by the light of the old ghers as they flew away from her silver bun. Her dress was tied with ribbons around her waist and wrists, they looked to hold in place both the dress and the girl who wore it.

It took a moment for her to notice him; she wiped her tears away with her hand before turning to face him.

“I, um, sorry. I didn’t know you were out here.”

She responded immediately, attempting to reassure him.

“It is fine. You really have no need to worry about that. How is your night going?”

“Are you okay?”

“Of course.”

“It’s okay if you aren’t,” he replied, “I just want to know. Maybe if I understood, I would be able to do something about it.”

“There is nothing to be done.”

He looked away from her, staring awkwardly at the windows of another building.

“I just, I don’t know. I wish I could do something.”

“It would do you well to avoid behaving like your father in that respect,” she said, laughing as if it would ease the tension.

“There must be something we can do. Mr. Barnier is horrible, but he has to follow the rules, same as anyone else.”

Michelle reached for Ben’s tea, taking a sip before he could stop her.

“He isn’t horrible, Ben, he simply cares so much about what he does. It isn’t his fault that he’s like that. He cares so much about his work that he doesn’t have room left over to care about anything else. Besides, this isn’t about him.”

He looked at her, intrigued.

“Then what is it about?”

“It doesn’t matter. It is what it is, and there isn’t anything we can do about it.”

She paused for a second, looking out at the world before them.

“Your father is a good man,” she stated, “I would rather he not be upset over my circumstances.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just, no matter what happens, look after him. He cares so much. I suppose that isn’t his fault either.”

He looked at her, his eyes wide.

“Michelle! What are you saying?”

Her face was still, blue eyes staring straight into his.

“He watches me, Ben. I see him too, how he disrupts the lines. I see what he does to them, it may be Mr. Barnier’s plan, but he enjoys it. I, I see how he looks at me, Ben.”

Her hand shook as she placed it on the balustrade, her voice took on an uneven, wavering tone, barely above a whisper.

“There is something wrong with Miss Bates as well. I have no concept of what it might be, but it is something.”

Ben looked at her, aware enough of his surroundings to lower his voice as well.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“All that I am saying is that there is something wrong here. You would do well to be careful.”

She walked away from him; but turned around before she had left the balcony.

“One more thing, Ben. Tell your father none of this.”

The crowds were more diffuse now, spread across multiple rooms. She knew where they would be, she had watched their social structures for years, the alliances, the petty feuds, all of it.

Mr. Sena would probably be talking to Miss Merrick, a Madishanian woman whose pursuits were more humanitarian than anything else. Mr. Sena was a strange one, well liked, nice enough, but very opinionated on the actions of certain members, to the point of controversy.

Did Ben know about the removal vote? Was he aware of his father’s gradual ostracism? If he was, he hadn’t let on, but his suspicion, his fear, was indication of some level of awareness. She hoped he would keep his unspoken promise, that he would keep her thoughts to himself. Mr. Sena would surely react with anger, further criticize the actions of Mr. Barnier, sabotaging himself. She could not understand this; he had more than just himself to look out for.

It was not his thoughts that were foreign to her, but his actions. She was largely tolerant, she tried not to care, she bit her tongue until blood would pour from her mouth. Why could he not do the same?

His behavior was not without consequence, for both of them. Nothing would ever come of it but conflict, and conflict was that very thing that she had done so much to avoid, not without reason. His values would surely be the death of him, or he would change, but that was far less likely.

Miss Merrick was of a better sort, kind, her heart certainly had a love of justice, but her mind kept it in check. A good influence on the man. She was younger too, unmarried, a doctor, with light brown skin, dark hair, and two green eyes that shone like emeralds from her skull. More pragmatic than Mr. Sena, she had likely known what she was signing up for when she joined, but the resources and protection were worth it for her.

She too must have had the mark in the center of her chest, the First Jet pymaric burned into her skin that bound her forever to this place.

Mr. Barnier was altogether a more straightforward individual, though his behavior was erratic at times, he was fairly predictable in his social interactions. He preferred a closed circle, likeminded individuals who each seemed to have a new complaint about management or the other members every time they spoke.

Either they were unaware of the privileges afforded to them, or they ignored them in pursuit of a moment of anger. If management truly was so antagonistic towards these men, there would likely be some evidence of it. Years of refusal to punish Mr. Sena for his actions, which were well within the rules, was not a form of attack, and the more recent threats of a removal vote for the man seemed indicative of a sort of favoritism for them, but that was less fun to talk about, and so they did not.

Of course, Amsazt’s favor likely translated to that of Miss Bates rather easily, which explained why she was largely absent from their criticisms, and why she was targeting Mr. Sena in the way that she had recently decided.

Absolute freedom was a rather nice notion, but the same issue came of it here that did everywhere else; those with power could do whatever they wanted, and those without just had to put up with it.

Those without power just had to put up with it,

so she did,

day after day, in these rooms, in this old ghers, in this dead city,

and she said she liked it, and she was happy, but the tears came regardless, and there was a voice in her mind that she knew to be hers, and it said she was dissatisfied, it said she was miserable, and she knew the voice lied, or maybe she just so badly wanted to believe it that she convinced herself of it,

day after day,

in these rooms,

in these buildings,

in this old

dead

city.

The city was not so dead, however, and although the crowds were spread out, they were spread in the way of water poured from a glass into a bowl.

Jodi Lamm would surely have moved along, her presence temporary. Mr. Barnier too, would have done what he usually did, find an isolated room, he usually used the same one, preferring familiarity, she supposed, and talk for hours with some other members that he found tolerable. The group would sit, tell abhorrent jokes, and discuss pymary, and she would sit there with a smile on her face and pour drinks for them.

Slightly less than ideal, and not how she intended to spend her night. She could wander for a moment longer then.

One of the attendees approached her, an older Bronze man who seemed to be, above all else, shockingly ordinary.

“Hello, I was wondering if you could tell me about your work.”

“I don’t work here.”

It was a lie, but it was better than having to put up with his questions, better still than diverting him to Mr. Barnier, who already had plenty of connections, and certainly enough ways to make money on his own, and who very much wanted to be left alone right now.

“Really? I’ve seen you here before.”

“Okay, you caught me.”

She smiled, and paused for a minute, before continuing.

“Now, this is the part where I’m supposed to tell you why you should give me money. I’m going to keep this brief, because I don’t want to waste your time. You shouldn’t.”

His face crinkled into a smile as he burst into laughter.

“I like you! You’re funny!”

“And you,” she responded, “must be insane. This is Fachlyne. I’m dirt cheap here. You can buy another of me for just a few sem downtown, and she probably won’t have any delusions about being a wright. She could too, if you’re into that sort of thing. Anyways, anyone else in this godsforsaken mess of a place probably has better odds of success than I do, so if you want to make a sound investment, go elsewhere.”

She turned and walked away from him, he could complain about her later, if he wanted, but non-members were practically nonhuman in the eyes of anyone whose opinion mattered here, and Mr. Barnier appreciated a certain sort of rudeness. If you refused to act like you were better than other people, they would act like they were better than you, and those without power were nothing more than disposable commodities, barely worth noting save for what they could do for those around them.

She knew where the men sat now, and it was nothing but obligation that moved her feet towards them. She could be that way herself too, maybe not genuinely, but certainly through effort, and then she would be scared no longer, her hands would not shake when she heard their voices, she would not cry herself to sleep, wishing for a death that refused to come. She would not hear the screams of the others in the back of her mind, for Mr. Barnier felt no guilt over his actions, and if she was to be like him, she must destroy that part of herself as well.

Maybe he did hear them, and he liked it, and instead of ripping him apart from the inside out, he would laugh a little, and move along.

No matter, if he liked it, Michelle would learn to like it as well.

Maybe she was meant to fail, but she refused to listen to that insistence; if she failed there would have been no point to any of this, and that was worse than anything that another could do to her.

It was responsibility then, it must be, to overcome what she had been given, as Ssael overcame the gods. Possibility was the wrong word for it, really, it was more than something that could be done; even if she could not succeed in whatever her task would be, she was obligated to do it anyways, somehow, and that was something that she understood.

She opened the door, silently, unnoticed, trying to disappear, melt away into the floor. The windows were covered with heavy curtains, thick fabric falling to the floor, over the black, black sky, and the lights of the old ghers, and farther away still, the forever-burning fires, the bodies too numerous to count, the birds that flew down, and picked at their skin, the bugs that crawled through the rot, present no matter how hard the flames worked to keep it away. More now, too, that she would carry from Mr. Barnier’s residence and burn, as much a measure of practicality as one of respect, but the latter was of the unspoken variety; they were meant to be beneath her, always present, always a threat.

“This could be you,” they said wordlessly, and it was not so infrequently that she wished for that to be the case.

Death was, after all, a poor threat when all that she wanted was for everything to stop.

#unsounded #group 19 #fanfic

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