#poison & wine part 32

[grimalkinmessor]

Hi! i just came across your vlog and wth ur soooo good at writing , I lOvE It !!

Can you do 28 , 32 , 34 , 44 for Meronia ? Sorry if some of these are already written .

🤍🖤

28. Who’s the better chef? Do they cook for the other?

Mello is the better cook—Near burns water. That boy has never touched a stove in his LIFE he would be awful at it. He tries to bake a cake for Mello for his birthday and it comes out so bad that Mello thinks he's legit trying to poison him 😭

But even though Mello can cook, he doesn't cook for Near all that often, because Near's not really,,,,into food. Like, the sensory experience of food is just distasteful to him; it's partially why he's so fucking malnourished. It's only when Near's having a good day that Mello might make him something, because that's when he knows he'll eat it. Otherwise he just chucks a apple sauce container at Near's head and leaves him be.

32. Do either of them drink? If so, who’s the lightweight, and how does their partner care for them?

Mello drinks, but Near only drinks when Mello. encourages him to.

And part of the reason Mello does this is because he wants to see Near plastered off half a glass of wine. Near gets so so eepy and giggly when he's drunk it's embarrassing and Mello loves it. He likes carrying pouty drunk Near around like a princess and listening to that perpetually deadpan voice slur and stutter through words and listen to how often he proclaims "I love Mellwo, I....wuuuuv Mello will you tell him I love him? 'Cuz I do, I do soooo much" lmao he's living it UP.

34. Do they have any inside jokes?

I'm gonna go with yes, because they grew up together and had experiences together that only they shared, so inside jokes would be kind of inevitable.

One/two of their favorites is a reference to Beyond and it's "Think he's got an A-complex?" and it's DARK but they both laugh every time and the SPK is always so so confused about wtf they're talking about.

44. Do they cuddle often? Why or why not?

Eehhh kinda?? They cuddle at night because Mello is a heat seeking missile when he's asleep, and Near likes to cling whether he's unconscious or not, but Mello never consciously cuddles Near—at least, not at first. Not for a good long while. He wakes up with Near trapped in his arms but it's a gamble on whether or not he yoi ked him over in his sleep or if Near wriggled his way in there himself so he usually ignores it. Near loves cuddles though. Mello cuddles are the best 🥰

[beek33per]

Fioralba (chapter 12)

The sky of the Isle of Jewels was clear, except for the waning bulge the moon seemed to make in the night sky.

It had been more than a day—they had traversed through the dungeons awake for a full 32 hours without sleep:

And now to breathe the open air outside of the dungeons, it felt as though time continued its passing evermore slowly. Their eyes burned and their limbs shook.

Fallon’s wings stiffened in the indelicate wind as she slipped outside. She clutched at the veranda. Hunching over it, her eyes fluttered in an attempt to drive her eyes to see what was in front of her. 

The Plague Doctor stepped out in turn. A straight posture, the cane he held cold in his fingers, even past his gloves. 

Roars erupted beside them as two giants announced their arrival. Light blazing from ornamented lamps behind the group, enveloping them in red and pink aurorean light.

The magnanimous doorway glowed with the Earth’s subterranean stones. The tunnels they traversed through opened up here. To a low-placed veranda that opened to a bridge set above a cheering crowd under them.

“The Disciples of Disease!”

”Disciples of Disease! Disciples of Disease!”

The giants marched forward parting the crowds from the public square beneath. The cheering is ongoing. Two lines of goblin nobles stretched and wriggled in masses on both sides of the bridge. Well dressed, Waving and toasting.

Statues loomed from the mountainside, crouching or standing as stewards to the carved villas around them; stationary but so intricately detailed it would not be a miracle to see each being so encased in stone, move; and water poured out from them and made way to ponds of clear and fresh water. 

Where more crowds are composed. 

A gobliness, one among many finely dressed, yelled from more balconies above them, overlooking to the bridge. “Enjoy the parade!”

Haruna egged Cory to follow the giants.

At the first interval of many personal congratulations, they were offered water. And soon more sweets and food had been offered to Haruna, Fallon, Cystenian, Asa, and Cory.

Kabuki happily obliged to the wine offered to him. But not before Asa swiped it and poured water into a new cup instead.

The celebration being so cacophonous that no one noticed. 

“I haven’t slept at all. The least you could do is let me have this.”

Asa’s was strong in this even through the muffled noise of the crowd. “The wine is often poisoned during the parades. Often to steal the treasures that will be given to the champions. Don’t drink the water either, until we settle in the Quebracho and get our own supplies.”

“It's safer I guess.”

Everyone was served a drink from a gold gilded spoon and were given clear glasses wrapped in ribbons from which to drink. But they did not drink. Much to Fallon and Cystenian’s dismay. Haruna had snatched both their cups and had made them float above her.

The Disciples of Disease marched on with the giants; taking nothing else that was offered. And they held the cups full of their drink till the end of their exhausting march.

And After being escorted throughout the city for an hour, they were finally able to rest after reaching the hall of champions.

Asa prepared the Quebracho after the doors shut them away from the crowds and they had surmised it was safe to do. Cory was the first to head inside, followed by Kabuki. 

“Haruna you said you had an arrangement with the dragons to help transport the quebracho to its next destination right?” Asked the doctor. Haruna nodded mentioning the Dragon guard would be arriving shortly.

It was late. Around 7:00 o’clock in the evening. Cory found herself slumped into one of the cushions of the Quebracho, after a long 8 hour nap. She had woke up so hungry. Stomach rumbling and lips chapped from a lack of water. In addition to her strained watery eyes which begged with each drop of dampness for more sleep.

Now she was at more or less at ease and after sleeping a little more, she returns to a hole in one the Quebracho’s walls.a little shelf with a charging port… where she found her phone already charging.

The door to her sleeping quarters propped open. She didn’t think much of it. So she followed the smell and sound of someone’s food sizzling in the kitchen.

Eggs…bacon. Rice? She also picked up grains of coffee in the air.

“Hi Cory.” She was so focused on the food, Kabuki’s greeting startled her.

“Hi...I thought you went with Haruna to get supplies.”

”We did. But vendors are closed. So we’re waiting.” Haruna sipped from mug. “Asa is finally sleeping.” She said happily. “The doors are locked and we’re safe. And I’ve helped make dinner.”

Fallon munched in her food quietly. Waffles covered in chocolate and vanilla ice cream—

”Did someone try to break in?”

Kabuki took notice of Cory’s eyes widening in alarm. He answered as he looked to Haruna.“It was a child. They were curious, nothing so formidable.”

Haruna nodded, affirming the thought.  “As we had done before in Faiths, the plan was to collect supplies. And you were sleeping, so I thought it best if you slept a while more.” She slid a bowl to the human girl. “Eat some food. And if you want desert, there’s some of Ms Cabbage’s cookies.”

The living room wasn’t so empty anymore. And Cory maintained her attention to her phone while Kabuki scraped the last of his white rice and fried eggs from his bowl.

The faucet in the kitchen was running, along with soap and dishes. Until there was knock at the door and  Haruna began leaning closer to look at one of the Quebracho’s windows.

Kabuki answered the door, opening to goblin. “I must congratulate you all for your efforts!” He began. “It’s only in scarce times that we have champions in the Isle of jewels.” The goblin smiled, well dressed and poised in the congratulatory gesture. He raised his goblet. “I invite you to make your stay in my ho—“

The door slammed.

”Such a lack of decorum.” Cystenian growled. Kabuki rolled his eyes at the dullahan. 

“No not you—the goblins.why are they bothering us so soon?” He pulled his hair.

”I think your having alcohol withdrawal.” Cory  mumbled. 

The sun was going down and very soon shadows would accent the forms of all things kept in the light. Cory being homesick, bored and tired decided to do something else with her time, other than chide herself and wait.

“Haruna,” Cory said, “ teach me magic.” 

“You make it sound remarkably easy.” The sorceress bitterly chuckled, smiling nonetheless. “What are your hobbies?”

Moon burrowed further into Cory’s arms. ” I like plants. I used to help my dad on the farm.” She said, petting the cat.

“What can you tell me about them?”

“The Plants? They’re the source of all life on our planet, at the base of most food chains on Earth.” Cory said.

“Very good. And?” Haruna questioned.

“And...they are beautiful, useful, green. How did you learn magic?”

“ I’ve learned about it for as long as I can remember. And you can too, it doesn’t matter when you start.” The sorceress began rummaging through a drawer. She set down the Quebracho’s manual and continued searching.

“Some of the people in Aduantas weren’t always here in Nenas. Like you, they had come from other worlds and they sought to learn magic. People as young as seven years old and beyond. Even till the age of 80.”

Cory nodded affirming that she heard Haruna’s words. The sorceress paused as she turned back to Concordia. 

The book was a thing slightly less thicker than her own folded arm. Its weight was something she was attempting to ponder but Moon began shying away just from the smell of it, looking at the book with an air of annoyance: that swishy black tail and thin, irritated gaze.

Haruna’s voice still addressed Cory, despite her distraction, and she managed to catch what Haruna said.

“Which plants do you and your father grow?”

“Strawberries, myrtle, olives. We have some juniper. Dad likes irises.” Cory thought for a moment. “Haruna, how does magic in Nenas work? Amazingly, you can do all these things, but I’ve noticed not everyone can do the same thing. Your magic, it’s unique. How is it you can wield it so extensively and easily?

“That’s a good question. And it has a very long answer. We can simplify it though.” She began signalling Cory to sit down.

“What you devote your life to can influence your magic. Understand that, magic itself isn’t just a flashy manipulation of matter. It can even be something as simple as our emotions. You might think of yourself as a mere human incapable of magical feats…but we are all vessels, through which magic is constrained or set free when it flows through our being.”

“But, How long exactly does it take to learn a spell?” Cory’s eyes went back to the book in the sorceress’s black gloves. And something grim settling in Haruna’s eyes…

Something only to be seen at a moment and angle in time, like the yellow, iridescent pages of the grimoire that flashed quickly in the light. Her voice rolled quickly off her tongue as her steps walked within the sound of the room. Soon to be out. “Cory child, take this grimoire you need it for your studies.” 

“Haruna, I thought you were going to use exposure therapy again like your previous students.”

”At a later time.” She said, her tone distracted. She left the room to Asa: choosing to wander another part of the Quebracho for now. Little did the group know currently, that there was something in the air. More than the reminiscent scent of Haruna’s milky coffee.

”Cory, if you’ve any questions don’t hesitate to ask Haruna, or me if she’s not available.”

A bit of silence sat in their ears.

”Is it…Is it just me or is everyone on edge?”

Asa sighed. “Yeah. I think we’ve all had a stressful couple of days. You can begin your reading now. Look over the table of contents.”

“Asa, erm where are we going next? Did you and Haruna set the details of travel with the dragons?”

”Actually now that you mention it. I’ll be right back.” Asa said poking his beak back into the door before leaving again.

***

Cory resisted the urge to haphazardly flip the grimoire closed and open. The grimoire was certainly mesmerizing to look at, and hopefully, it would be a tool just as useful as it is pretty. While Cory carefully managed through the grimoire something concealed from her watched the windows, listening to the ambience within the carriage.

It drew closer…

In a different room, Cozi and Moon slept in a box. Moon stepped out of it, silent and light-footed in his manner. The cat’s stomach grumbled and he would soon decide to bother anyone awake for a meal.

By 8:00 pm Moon’s tail was soon curled by Asa's chair. The cat then stretched to lie in front of Cory. “I’m hungry. Give me food.”

Cory giggled. “Ok. We’ll see if can get you something to eat.”

As she pet Moon, he rolled on to his side; squeaking and hissing: startled of the table as a gangly fingered hag scraped her yellow nails across the wall. Cory could barely stand, and she shied her eyes away. In the same manner one would shake the feeling of a ghost in the room. 

The hag was making her approach slowly, but she seemed to speed up like the beating of her heart.

“Asa!”  She grabbed the book and shut herself out of the room. “Asa!”  

She took another look in the hag’s direction. She was face to face with bloodshot eyes. So many of them staring. That same nail that was scraping at the wall prodded a small mark in Cory’s forehead. And the hag was suddenly gone. 

Elsewhere in the Quebracho, the hag made her first unnoticed rounds. Asa and Haruna were some miles away, arranging their request for travel services with the Dragons that had stopped on the isles.

A thin wispy smoke floundered inside the quebracho, swirling just enough to create the mold of the lamia’s actual form. The hag-like monster made push against a door. Revealing darkness, and shadow of a slumped form sleeping in a bed.

Chiming in a sing-song voice, there were more movements. “Fresh or weary. Sear thine flesh. Prick you needlessly…. Deprive ye of sleep, to a chance, to weep—“  The lamia cast her spell over Kabuki. Speaking out his name, fractured in its echoes.“Kahhhbukiii…” She rasped.

Each syllable haunting him with a familiar voices of his past. Stealing their weight. 

"I’ve seen the depths of your past. The guilt that harrows your every thought…at the core of your soul.” 

“Get out!” He gasped. His actual body only grimaced in its sleep as the hag hovered over him.

 “The essence, of your malice is too great for redemption. Too great to be forgiven.” “Murderer!” It shrieked. “Murder! You know this to be! Coward harken and silence your will!”

“Illusion! Damn your illusions. Gods—

Kabuki opened his eyes, his breathing was steady; as if his own body rejected the fear that twitched in his veins.

“Asa—Fallon!” Cory tripped and her face bashed against the bottom of the table in the dining area. Kabuki heard her scream.

“Why are you running?” 

The girl, scrambled to her feet farther away from the direction where she was running from. She covered her right eye, and Kabuki noticed blood spilling from some wedge mark on her forehead.

Concordia’s eyes focused on his, both exhibiting redness from the lack of sleep. 

”It called itself a lamia —there’s was something in there! Pretending to be Asa!”

His jaw was unmoving for a second. The door slammed open.

”Geee Cory.” Moon said emerging from the darkness. “Thanks for grabbing me instead of the book.”

”But You have protections against lamia’s—it said so…in the book.” The black cat didn’t hear her, and only yowled and sprinted to Kabuki’s feet but immediately ran the opposite way. 

“Moon!” Cory yelled. Smoke now rising above Cory and Kabuki, began spewing out dust into their eyes.

“Kabuki—“ Cory yanked the uchigatana in his grip, Clutching it as she blinked rapidly, sight stinging, before catching the lamia above the demon. “We have to go!” He wouldn’t move. She kicked his shins.

Before Cory could yell at him to move “YOU FORSAKEN DEMON” the smoke called, ignoring Cory. A pointing finger emerging, then revealing a hag’s face within the smoke. 

“With HALF-SIGHT gone Blind!” She recited. “WHEN pangs of guilt, come to mind— How brightly do THEIR SOULS shine? Kabuki—Uncouth! Butcher of kin, killer of past kind!”

Cozi and Moon burst in. Two cats on the floor. One grey one black and then suddenly clawing up Kabuki’s back until they made it his to his shoulders. While they were attempting to claw the hag stooping over Kabuki, hissing the lamia gone. Cory examined the monster again. And it felt like time when slower. Until both of them and the cats were all consciously aware to take the details of thief surrounding in, the hag gone.

——-

Cystenian kept his sight on Fallon’s long green hair sprawled on the back of the furniture. Dark circles hollowing the space beneath his eyes, with veins weighing them down. 

A blank but moving expression caused the fae’s eyebrows to scrunch down closer to her eyes. 

The recent past was still vivid in her mind also. The lamia was not going to leave them alone. The hag set a certain scenario from hours ago to run on repeat in her head. The sensation of her wings being cut off specifically.

—————————

“Fallon Viramoth where in the 7 Hells are you going?” Asa scolded.  Fallon’s yells echoed behind her. “A bitch cuts my wings and I'm gonna cut a bitch's life short!” A rapier flew past the harpy’s chest. And Order couldn’t help but hiss delight, then in pain.  

“Did you just stab me?” Order bellowed.

“Fuck ya.”

—————————-

She was sure that the situation had been funnier. She remembered Asa attributing that mentality to losing too much blood.

Kabuki’s tired walk brought her back to reality. The one in which she was sitting on the couch in Quebracho, across the dullahan. The fey’s wings were fluttering meekly off her tense body. She told Asa how it felt. She felt like someone had taken her pinky and twisted it loose after it had been promptly cut off. Fallon’s eyes were wide. Staring, but they looked so irritated and swollen he was worried they’d fall out of their sockets.

Cysteinian expression stiffened for a moment. He tucked his bottom lip into his teeth. “I still want to cut that harpy’s wings off… If that’s what you’re wonderin’” 

She grabbed the cards in front of her, setting them back into a drawer that was tucked into the table. 

“Are you ok?” Fallon asked.

Cystenian laughed. “I’m fine. Like I said a few seconds ago, I still wish things went differently.”

”Obviously. Oi—“ Fallon called to the red towering Japanese demon. She’d had caught him staring too now. He was still in the doorway, serious as ever.

“The lamia’s obviously too scared to attack us all in one room, Kabuki.”Cystenian said. “And Asa and Haruna still have the keys to the wine cabinet.”

Fallon asked.”Did you get a new ice pack, Cory?”

”right here.” She sat on the couch, still applying it on the swollen part of her face. 

”I thought  Kabuki would’ve cracked its defences by now.”  Cystenian lamented. Of course he was still talking about the wine cabinet and not the mosnter itself.

“I haven’t tried.” He said.

”Why not?” Both the dullahan and fae had said so in unison.

“I don’t feel like it. Mot the time for it.” Kabuki said thinking about the bulging eyes on the lamia.

Cystnenian wriggled the handle hard, only for the handle to clamp down onto his fingers in a pinch. He made noises of discomfort.

The door to the kitchen opened and closed. A clutter emerged from near the stove and counter. Probably Asa moved, sorting stuff in the refrigerator. Haruna finally arrived with Asa. She stepped into the room. Regal looking even though she probably wasn’t making the effort.

“What happened to Cory?” 

Fallon answered Haruna, who was putting her gloved hands up to her mouth. “Cory—uhh she kinda tripped while running away from a lamia.”

”I knew I shouldn’t have gone. Good on you bringing them all to same room Kabuki.” Haruna said, waving her hand to Asa in the kitchen. “Cory, let me see.”

The Plague Doctor popped into the living room just as Cystenian gave up on the liquor cabinet. Asa poured clear water from a pitcher. “Have water you three.” The dullahan hopelessly slumped his back to the cabinet. His armor making a quick “clack”. “ I have an issue with fresh water.”  “You're a dullahan not a nuckelavee.” Asa sighed in god. “let’s help you get rid of that swelling. And Asa tended to her with same prescription. Needless to it did not help with Cory’s exhaustion. 

A voice blew throughout the room: 

 “you are all weak!  You’re all senseless,  and meek!

And you other two, you Drink and Drink! Till you’re useless…and you reek!”

—————

Faint sunlight held itself in the shrouds of the dark bulbous sky that was the fog in each cloud.  Soon sunlight flared… all of them still suffered from being awake with no sleep. Almost a full 24 hours had passed after they had left the isle of jewels.

When the Quebracho departed the floor shook, and swayed a little as if the Quebracho was once again on tides. Except now, they were in the air…

And later in the day…The plague doctor pulled out a transparent bag, with an eye rolling in it.  Asa explained “It lost one eye trying to invade my mind. I didn’t see it, but I’ve definitely had at least one encounter with it. “

The lamia hadn’t dared to pounce on Asa again. Not until he was truly weakened.

But soon after that, The dragons heard a wail from inside the cabins of the quebracho, even with the wind currents in their ears.

———-

More vocal and loud than the days before.

the eye covered hag, saggy and monstrous when she turned her back, like with the proportions of a homunculus, waved and danced in her decrepit and trailing fog—fading in and out of dust. More verbal than ever before. “A FOREST FULL of Fluttering Fairies The LOT OF THEM EACH so Stuffed with Merry! Then SPARKS of FIRE, came hot as an oven—scorched and sheared, and torched to bury!” “DEAD! and DEAD! and DEAD!they said!          AT six years old, your throat was shed!        And you vowed, dear ground, they’d be red—

“with blood!” The lamia laughed, catching her breath.

Cory waved Fallon’s rapier to slash the air above but it caught nothing, and she dropped it on the floor.

“Haruna. Please help.” Cory begged, delirious without sleep. Fallon wailed again clutching at her ears. On her knees from the terrible ordeal that the malignant creature set upon her mind.

It was more than insomnia and nightmares. Poor Fallon laid properly dilapidated on the floor, crying her eyes to a redder color. Her skin pale and clashing with her vivid green hair. Even as Haruna tried to tuck her in.

Like a clock recording the next hour, the lamia struck again. leading all closer to the death of the sleep deprived…

They had chosen to sleep with their doors open, Haruna and Asa taking shifts to ensure they knew where the lamia was. Before Asa could do anything, the hag turned her spell to him. Cory under her blanket, tucked with Fallon and Cozi, was so tired she really couldn’t move.

The lamia suddenly choked on her next limerick. “Drunken Haggard—-

“that’s enough of you.” Haruna said  while spraying it’s eyes with onion.  “Dad would not be happy about that.”Fallon chuckled. Already falling asleep. Asa nodded to Haruna already knowing what she was going to say. 

“We’ll get at least a few hours of asleep now. She looked just as tired as everyone else.” Kabuki still had a few more minutes of consciousness before true deep sleep would take him. They couldn’t fight now.

“A little seasoning in my eyes shall not stop me from killing you. I will let you bide your time. How will a foolish man like you be able to defeat a Lamia like me?”

There was only silence. 

The thing only gave them an hour of sleep.

—-

Kabuki opened his eyes eventually.  He looked to see if he was sleeping with the light on.  Only he felt more exhausted than rested in all the years of his life. 

Everything in his body felt irritating: most of all his eyesight, and nearly all scents gave him a headache.He blinked, his eyes tearing up. Heavy and muggy. He rolled off his bed. The clock on the nightstand clacking on the wood floor of the Quebracho. The knots in his back sending flames into his veins. He groaned, visibly struggling to stand on his two feet. He disregarded the pain of his shoulders as he pulled up the electronic, placing the ornate clock by its cable onto the nightstand.

Haruna was probably just as exhausted as everyone. This was day 2 of sleeping without sleep. Without satisfaction or rejuvenation.

Kabuki slumped out his room, ducking out of the door frame. Asa sipped something out of a mug in the kitchen, leaning against the sink counter.

Asa stiffened his posture, putting the green mug, down onto the creamy polished marble counter.  The days felt mushed together. Feeling they hadn’t ended at all.

“You still don’t look like your recovering from lack of sleep.”

“Yes. But I can sleep normally.” He shielded his eyes from the light as he plopped his elbows into the dining table. 

When the demon removed his hands, his eyes remained closed, a lour dropping in his face. 

“That thing it did something to me. It brought back the worst of my past.”

”That time has passed now.” The plague doctor said, sliding the bottom of his mask back onto his face. “But we can talk about it in a therapy session.”

“I’m not ready.”

”Let me know when…” Asa said. “Also make sure you patch things up with Cory. She’s scared of you.”

“Indeed she is.” The lamia cackled. “But you don’t like that do you Kabuki?…Sleep, child. Let it come to you. So that I may cherish your fear when you awake again.”

The red demon simply fell asleep at the table. But he didn’t want this. His eyelids fluttered, the whites of his eyes flashing and he looked as if possessed. The oni kept mumbling and struggling. “No. No!” His voice  low and choking intonations.

”Wine must ferment properly…” the lamia commented fading to smoke, clouding Asa’s vision for a moment. Because Kanuki’s pain was much like wine to her. So very fine in the guilt and anguish. The lamia deepened her voice in casting her ward against Asa. Asa brandished his cane.

“Forever Ignorant of a siblings fate                  Oh Wondering god, OF DAYS passed LATE        A foolish Martyr of the Black Death                         A Victim of loneliness’s cruel gait

Since then, you’ve not seen her in death since then, you’ve not seen her with living breath….your kindness is SELFISH and a LIE… If she indeed lives,” the lamia chuckled. “SHE LOVES YOU LESS. “       

Asa slammed his cane on Lamia's head. Causing the monster to make the same noise his cane did when she hit the ground. It seemed to mundane. Too simple, a simple bonk to lamia’s head and it…struggled?

The lamia struggled, sounding asphyxiated in its quick breaths. Asa stomped both his feet on the opposite sides of her head, and sits on top of the lamia, squeezing her face tightly until her fangs poke out. Kabuki could only watch.

All in a quick movement…

He pulls out a small jar from his satchel, forcing her to sink her fangs into the lid of the jar making her give out every single drop of her venom once from each fang. His movements vicious but with the preciseness of a surgeon.

Asa returns the jar to his satchel, he moves his hand towards the lamia's eyes, fear creeping along her spine.  

“Hold still now, this operation will be short.” he says as he plucks one of her eyes. The lamia grimaced, dragging her nails across wooden boards that made up the floor of the Quebracho. One by one, she had her eyes plucked until she had cried out one last time, no longer moving.”

Then Cory couldn’t remember what happened. She felt herself falling. That tunnel feeling returned,  and she thought she felt herself waking up back home.

“what just happened?” She heard someone say.

“the dragons literally dropped us off!” The dullahan cried. “ I have to find my whip—“ he ruffled through things.

“My lute!” Fallon scrambled in the wreckage.

The Quebracho was in pieces. Strewn everywhere but in one place. Glass, wood and metal. And everything inside littered the ground, mostly broken. A vast mountainscape stretched below. And they saw a swamp.

“Where are Cozi and moon?” Fallon piped up.

Haruna clutched the grimoire.

“In my bag,they’re ok.”Asa said, adjusting his ever shifting mask. Cozi heard them scream inside Asa’s bag. Wriggling as the doctor held it.

“I don’t want fly ever again!” 

“Sh! We’re fine.” Cozi said.

“How did we even survive this?” Cory was awestruck.“Where’s Kabuki?”  Did she hope he’d died? No. That was a terrible thought. Clutching her shoulders. they saw him’ near a group of people below. 

“Is everyone down there okay?!” Haruna breathed anxiously. A dragon sprawled unconscious just a mile away.

The disciples saw a red oni among the crowd. “Do you know where Tiamat is?” Asa immediately answered next to him. Puzzling Kabuki. “Why are you asking for directions when you have me? “ Asa’s tone asked, piping up from the beaked mask that obscured his face. He nodded to himself. He now spoke to the people Kabuki was asking directions from. “ I do apologise for my words, please take this gift as an apology and wedding gift. Congratulations you two, may  Abiodun blesses your union.”

Fallon hopped down. “sorry we crashed in…nice party.”

Cystenian bowed. The dullahan’s head in his left arm as if it were a helmet. “congratulations, live long with love.” The bride and groom blushed, smiling. The groom said. “Please feel free to celebrate with us! There’s enough of the party and food to go around.”

They offered a cup to the Dullahan and Asa. Pouring one for Kabuki next.

“what are we gonna do now? The Quebracho is totaled.”

“Well, that kind couple directed us to town. And we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Asa handed his cup to Haruna. “Wait. Please.”

Haruna piped up her voice. “Asa. What is it?”

“The dragons could need medical aid. There’s only one here. He hasn’t woken up.  the lamia must have done this…or something much worse.I have to see.”

“Don’t stray too far Asa.”

Cory counted everyone. She had now just realized there was another person. They were dressed in a light green. Teal? They had wings, popping out of the back of their shoulders.  

Was it a backless dress dress they were wearing. She became immediately distracted at the person’s face. Dark hair, black, framed his eyes, edged by a set of circular frames-glasses that rested on his nose. A wide but sculpted face, a distinct perceiving stare encapsulated in dark blue eyes. 

For a moment she thought of it as an exquisite scarf of a light fabric. It wasn’t. His neck was only covered by the high necked cloth of his clothing.

”Quite right. One god isn’t nearly as good as two.” The voice was perfunctory like Asa’s, as if the man knew many things

“Polydegmon! I haven’t seen you in a while. Great to see you again.

“the psychopomp department is understaffed and I thought I would volunteer to help.” “The psychopomp department is never understaffed, why are you here?”

“he is my brother why would he kill us?”

“he looks a bit prude. “ “that’s unkind.”

Haruna pulled on Cystnenian’s and Kabuki’s ear. Like a mother for her children. “behave in the presence of company.” 

Kabuki held his tongue.

Polydegmon spoke to his brother. “your humour is dry as ever Asa, but mother is worried about the newcomers dying of the same plague, and worried about you overworking yourself.“

Cory had always wanted to visit Venice. With its gondolas and beautiful ever sinking architecture. She didn’t get to. Not yet , but this came pretty close. The group got on boats while Asa stayed behind to tend after the dragons for a bit. 

Cory sat quietly for a while once the celebration made its way into the city. Then a meow escaped in high volume from her phone. And she looked more jovial than ever, while grabbing a spoonful of the food that was prepared.

“Whatcha doin starin at cats that aren’t me?”

“but this is you silly—the cat cafe remember? We ended up taking the best and cutest kitty in the cafe, which happened to be you.” She kissed her cat, and Moon plopped down next to her. 

“Acceptable.” The black cat said.

Cory swatted each picture into view, each one more adorable than the last.

Pictures of her mom, her brothers and dad. No being homesick Cory thought. “ It's a cat cafe, it is a cafe where you can hang out with cats.” “Take me there.” Kabuki said. The cats were like therapy to him. Better than drinking. Moon and Cozy and Cozy made this face in the background. And it was glorious. ಠ╭╮ಠ

“But I came from there!” The black cat bit Kabuki’s leg. The red demon smiled for they could not hurt him so easily.

 “tackle him!” Cozi whispered, in a hiss, digging her claws into the surface. In this case Cory’s lap. She grabbed the grey cat temporarily.

“ If you do that, you're not getting dango.” Kabuki said to the cats.

“dango…” Both cats said.

“you should put catnip in the dango.” Cory suggested.

Moon’s swishy black tail did a move where it stopped in satisfaction to think about catnip. “mmm catnip makes me french.” Moon was high already on the thought of catnip. The wreckage must have had the stash out somewhere, loose, broken from its bag.

Asa loomed over them. “that does not make logical sense.”

“Exactly! You're from Italy Moon.” Cory said, hugging Cozi.

”where is the nearest cat cafe?” Kabuki shirked off the bad posture for a moment. He went back to slumping comfortably, petting Moon. Fallon was the next to speak after plucking a note on her beaten lute.

“There's 50 of them in the holy garden.” 

“Holy garden? What is the holy garden?”

“The eastern kingdom.” Haruna said and then she remembered the maps in the books in Haruna’s home. And the map in the grimoire. She so badly wanted to learn to spells right now. Learn about Nenas’ plants. She loved that and agriculture.

“I think he's drunk.” Fallon said, watching Moon mess around like the cute cat he is. His motions were spastic. 

“I believe he ate catnip.” 

“How?” Cory asked, a delighted smile on her face once the surprise subdued. She enjoyed her cat as Cozi sat in her lap.

Haruna corrected Fallon. “the only one who's drunk is Cystenian.” “ I stole money from a leprechaun.” The dullahan sighed. 

“ i think he is being a bit too honest.” Fallon looked at him. Eyeing the bottle he was drinking from. Haruna knew they were taking full advantage of the wreckage. And the wedding festivities. The Fey seemed ready to scream at the dullahan. “Ơi!” For some of the liquor.

Cory was too invested in how leprechauns, the dullahan and other magical beings like fey, interacted with each other to worry about their drunkenness. “doesn’t it disappear when you get it?” The girl said, focused on the mention of the pot of gold.

Cystenian enticed another deep gulp: “According to Irish legends, people lucky enough to find a leprechaun and capture him (or, in some stories, steal his magical ring, coin or amulet) can barter his freedom for his treasure. Leprechauns are usually said to be able to grant the person three wishes. But dealing with leprechauns can be a tricky proposition. I still have his loot.“

“we need to install a better lock on the alcohol” Hảruna  said. And magical wards. But she knew not to mention it.

“Did you know the leprechaun’s name? Fallon: Haruna setting locks won’t stop us, it’ll only slow us down; makes us more motivated to break in. Fallon snatched the empty bottle she had finished. Looking at it sadly. “There WILL be drastic measures

Fallon has a kit for lock-picking after all. Did she get it after Haruna installed locks on the alcohol? No… she didn’t. She had it much earlier. Does Haruna know Fallon has lock-picking skills?

Yes. the green haired, fair fey used them for other times. Which of course she has, what else do you do with a lock pick kit? Mini Fallon broke into Haruna's room to give her a mother's day gift. 125-year-old Haruna, eyes squinting looked to the edge to a little girl once. One very early morning. “Fallon it's 3 am.” Steve’s plans with Fallon and the kids for Mother’s Day had taken a different route. And  6-year old Fallon rose up earlier. “How did you get in?”

Fallon proudly showcased her  lock-picking kit. “I stole it from a traveling rouge…rogue.” Haruna made a face. Steve gladly turned to his beautiful wife, sleepy but bashful making another face.“ I should’ve said the unveiling of Haruna’s Mother’s Day gift was 3 pm…not just 3.” Then Fallon snapped out of the memory. The tone coming off Haruna was cross at Fallon.

“Why do you drink so much?” “Why do you drink so much coffee?” Fallon snapped. Haruna’s expression. Can again be expressed in the following; much like the one she had made years ago on that Mother’s Day, when she learned Fallon could lock pick. 

ಠ╭╮ಠ

“at least I’m decent while drunk. Kabuki nearly killed Cory.” Cory hugged Cozi. Fallon was dragging Kabuki into the conversation. Moon rolled onto the demon’s feet haphazardly.

“ I get drunk when I'm stressed and you stress me out.” Kabuki said without looking at Fallon.

“Stress you out in a good way or bad way? Which of the two?”

“bad. I can hold my liquor, but with negative stress, like you. I’m drunk.”

“Have the two of you ever had juice boxes? Maybe we can get you addicted to apple juice?”

“No.” Fallon offered another subject. Not drinking at all was a bad opinion in Fallon’s book. “There's a magic sake to make oni really drunk.”

“Does that mean fey can also get really drunk?” Fallon looked around like it was stupid question. It probably was but Cory wanted to know for sure. It was a wedding. And out of the wine servings Fallon had, she’d already had too many but was still left craving more.

Cory first tried pouring juice in an empty wine bottle.“ oi what’re you doin’ to my favourite wine bottle?” Fallon squinted.

“I'm pulling a Jesus move.” Cory said.

Fallon was quiet for a minute. The fey remembered Cory had been learning magic from Haruna . “ so are you gonna give it to me?”

“Yes.” Cory smiled.

“alcohol/wine can really change you.” Cystenian said.

“ it makes you more honest.” Asa said, resting on one of the benches. His plate was empty. 

“how many “Jesus moves” do you have left?” Fallon asked Cory. Cory was thinking of Cystenain’s possible reaction to the statement.  She didn’t think about possibly being insensitive for one second.

“I thought the Scottish and Irish don't like England with all the invasions and Christianity.”  “just give me the bottle- please.” Cystenian only wanted alcohol and it seemed he didn’t make a judgement of where it came from. Jesus or not, he was getting wine. As Cory put water into the bottle, Fallon observed Cory’s movements closely. Too drunk to possibly notice Cory’s whispering. “Haruna where's that water magic of yours?”

Haruna watched Cory’s moves closely tilting her chin up while leaning back in her chair. While Cory’s hands poured one cup of water into the wine bottle, while her other shook it. It becomes wine before the Fey’s and Dullahan’s eyes.  “WHO? HOW? WHAT? .” Haruna was onlly using illusion magic. But that didn’t stop a drunk Fallon from ogling. She drank the colluded water. And while Cystenian contemplated its peculiar taste, Fallon realized. “It’s water!”

Haruna smiled, thinking to herself ‘that’s how I will make my daughter drink water. Color it. She made plans in the future. After eating well and messing around a bit more; an important question popped in Cory head. The Quebracho was destroyed. And though some things survived like Fallon’s favorite goblet, others did not. Haruna said she had a second Quebracho being taken to them. The dwarves are effective and she had hired a specialist. The next day, early morning they had access to another carriage, exactly the way it looked on the inside. The Quebracho was new and shiny, and lacking the wear from the damage on their way to the Isle of Jewels. Cory wasn’t even going to question it anymore. She couldn’t- everything was impossible! Which means everything in Nenas was possible. And if she put any more thought to anything else, too hard; she was going to explode- malfunction or something. 

“You ok Cory?” Haruna asked.

”Yeah.” She smiled.

”You look worn out.” 

“I am. But, I’m getting used to everything. I’ve got Moon. Cozi and you’re doing a pretty good job of taking care of me too. Your hugs are awesome.” Cory sighed. “And I can’t forget Asa.” 

“We’re doing very nicely.” 

“Understatement.” Cystenian said. “Our carriage broke only a day ago and you and your fortune god replaced it like it was a spare set of socks. And even those are hard to come by in pristin condition. Dry and such.” He groaned from the hangover. 

Haruna would have said ‘I told you so. That’s what drinking gets you.’ She saved that phase for Fallon when she grumbled about her hungover. 

The boat version of the Quebracho was going to make it thorugh a mix of Venice and a swamp but it had to get here. and the same goblin, that planned to have dinner with them in the isle- offered them dinner plans again. Tartans Whicker… he tracked them down and offer them lodging and shelter while the new Quebracho had yet to arrive to their locale. Cory kept her phone in her hands. Eyes the modernity and ancientness of the city, how it blended very easily.

“fuck me.” Fallon swore. “I don't want to be bothered by that perverted goblin.” 

“How did he even track us down here?”

Kabuki spoke to the goblin once he recognized him. “Keep your distance.”

“He'll probably die like his father and I get more money.”

“I will not die. And I assure you Lady Fallon, I’m here on friendly terms. And friendly terms are best aren’t they, especially during such conflicted times. You are in need of lodging. And I happen to own hotels here through busineess connections from my dealings at isle of jewel.” Gemstones glittered on his fingers. “ as the champions, it is my responsibility to care for you and assist you.” Fallon blinked. She prayed for one of the harpies to kill him. ‘Pervert goblin’ she thought, though Cory heard her whisper it. Cory held Fallon’s hand.

“We don’t need your hospitality. We decline.”  Asa said.

“I insist.”

“We uninsist.”

“They should have elected Ms Cabbage as the rule of the isle.”

“They should have.” Cory agreed.

“In any case, I know you’re going to unite us for dinner; but we are not in need.”

“You’re not even going to thank me while you decline?” The goblin asked.

“No. Begone.” Kabuki said.

The disciples walk off leaving the goblin alone in the shadows. After a few disappointed minutes of grumbling, the goblin was snatched.

“We appreciate your offer my lord. However we must decline your grace.  as we have important business to focus on.

Asa began nodding with Haruna. “Enjoy your evening Lord.”

“Why did that dragon have to die?” Cystenian asked. Forlorn and eyes distant, staring into the sky.

“the Crimson Plague.” The doctor said. Cory let the name settle in the air before she spoke.

"I’ve heard you talking a lot about that…" 

“Because life can’t ever be simple the dragon died.” 

Cory glanced at Cystenian and Kabuki. “what would’ve happened if the dragon hadn’t died?”

“we would be closer to Tiamat now. But instead we are stuck here. Waiting until the next carriage arrives.”

“it will only be a matter of hours. A night’s sleep. And you all need it. The lamia did a number on all of you.”

Kabuki grumbled and sighed. “Lamia this, Lamia that… where are the cats?”

the cats cheered him up. And by morning the brand new Quebracho had arrived.

(author's note: this is all of what I can post of Fioralba, as we are on hiatus. Please be patient and enjoy other people's work)

[hellsitesonlybookclub]

It Can't Happen Here, Sinclair Lewis

Chapter 17-18

CHAPTER XVII

LIKE beefsteak and potatoes stick to your ribs even if you're working your head off, so the words of the Good Book stick by you in perplexity and tribulation. If I ever held a high position over my people, I hope that my ministers would be quoting, from II Kings, 18; 31 & 32: "Come out to me, and then eat ye every man of his own vine, and every one of his fig tree, and drink ye every one the waters of his cistern, until I come and take you away to a land of corn and wine, a land of bread and vineyards, a land of olive oil and honey, that ye may live and not die."

Zero Hour, Berzelius Windrip.

DESPITE the claims of Montpelier, the former capital of Vermont, and of Burlington, largest town in the state, Captain Shad Ledue fixed on Fort Beulah as executive center of County B, which was made out of nine former counties of northern Vermont. Doremus never decided whether this was, as Lorinda Pike asserted, because Shad was in partnership with Banker R. C. Crowley in the profits derived from the purchase of quite useless old dwellings as part of his headquarters, or for the even sounder purpose of showing himself off, in battalion leader's uniform with the letters "C.C." beneath the five-pointed star on his collar, to the pals with whom he had once played pool and drunk applejack, and to the "snobs" whose lawns he once had mowed.

Besides the condemned dwellings, Shad took over all of the former Scotland County courthouse and established his private office in the judge's chambers, merely chucking out the law books and replacing them with piles of magazines devoted to the movies and the detection of crime, hanging up portraits of Windrip, Sarason, Haik, and Reek, installing two deep chairs upholstered in poison-green plush (ordered from the store of the loyal Charley Betts but, to Betts's fury, charged to the government, to be paid for if and when) and doubling the number of judicial cuspidors.

In the top center drawer of his desk Shad kept a photograph from a nudist camp, a flask of Benedictine, a .44 revolver, and a dog whip.

County commissioners were allowed from one to a dozen assistant commissioners, depending on the population. Doremus Jessup was alarmed when he discovered that Shad had had the shrewdness to choose as assistants men of some education and pretense to manners, with "Professor" Emil Staubmeyer as Assistant County Commissioner in charge of the Township of Beulah, which included the villages of Fort Beulah, West and North Beulah, Beulah Center, Trianon, Hosea, and Keezmet.

As Shad had, without benefit of bayonets, become a captain, so Mr. Staubmeyer (author of Hitler and Other Poems of Passion— unpublished) automatically became a doctor.

Perhaps, thought Doremus, he would understand Windrip & Co. better through seeing them faintly reflected in Shad and Staubmeyer than he would have in the confusing glare of Washington; and understand thus that a Buzz Windrip—a Bismarck—a Cæsar—a Pericles was like all the rest of itching, indigesting, aspiring humanity except that each of these heroes had a higher degree of ambition and more willingness to kill.

By June, the enrollment of the Minute Men had increased to 562,000, and the force was now able to accept as new members only such trusty patriots and pugilists as it preferred. The War Department was frankly allowing them not just "expense money" but payment ranging from ten dollars a week for "inspectors" with a few hours of weekly duty in drilling, to $9700 a year for "brigadiers" on full time, and $16,000 for the High Marshal, Lee Sarason... fortunately without interfering with the salaries from his other onerous duties.

The M.M. ranks were: inspector, more or less corresponding to private; squad leader, or corporal; cornet, or sergeant; ensign, or lieutenant; battalion leader, a combination of captain, major, and lieutenant colonel; commander, or colonel; brigadier, or general; high marshal, or commanding general. Cynics suggested that these honorable titles derived more from the Salvation Army than the fighting forces, but be that cheap sneer justified or no, the fact remains that an M.M. helot had ever so much more pride in being called an "inspector," an awing designation in all police circles, than in being a "private."

Since all members of the National Guard were not only allowed but encouraged to become members of the Minute Men also, since all veterans of the Great War were given special privileges, and since "Colonel" Osceola Luthorne, the Secretary of War, was generous about lending regular army officers to Secretary of State Sarason for use as drill masters in the M.M.'s, there was a surprising proportion of trained men for so newly born an army.

Lee Sarason had proven to President Windrip by statistics from the Great War that college education, and even the study of the horrors of other conflicts, did not weaken the masculinity of the students, but actually made them more patriotic, flag-waving, and skillful in the direction of slaughter than the average youth, and nearly every college in the country was to have, this coming autumn, its own battalion of M.M.'s, with drill counting as credit toward graduation. The collegians were to be schooled as officers. Another splendid source of M.M. officers were the gymnasiums and the classes in Business Administration of the Y.M.C.A.

Most of the rank and file, however, were young farmers delighted by the chance to go to town and to drive automobiles as fast as they wanted to; young factory employees who preferred uniforms and the authority to kick elderly citizens above overalls and stooping over machines; and rather a large number of former criminals, ex-bootleggers, ex-burglars, ex-labor racketeers, who, for their skill with guns and leather life-preservers, and for their assurances that the majesty of the Five-Pointed Star had completely reformed them, were forgiven their earlier blunders in ethics and were warmly accepted in the M.M. Storm Troops.

It was said that one of the least of these erring children was the first patriot to name President Windrip "the Chief," meaning Führer, or Imperial Wizard of the K.K.K., or Il Duce, or Imperial Potentate of the Mystic Shrine, or Commodore, or University Coach, or anything else supremely noble and good-hearted. So, on the glorious anniversary of July 4, 1937, more than five hundred thousand young uniformed vigilantes, scattered in towns from Guam to Bar Harbor, from Point Barrow to Key West, stood at parade rest and sang, like the choiring seraphim:

"Buzz and buzz and hail the Chief, And his five-pointed sta-ar, The U.S. ne'er can come to grief With us prepared for wa-ar."

Certain critical spirits felt that this version of the chorus of "Buzz and Buzz," now the official M.M. anthem, showed, in a certain roughness, the lack of Adelaide Tarr Gimmitch's fastidious hand. But nothing could be done about it. She was said to be in China, organizing chain letters. And even while that uneasiness was over the M.M., upon the very next day came the blow.

Someone on High Marshal Sarason's staff noticed that the U.S.S.R.'s emblem was not a six-pointed star, but a five-pointed one, even like America's, so that we were not insulting the Soviets at all.

Consternation was universal. From Sarason's office came sulphurous rebuke to the unknown idiot who had first made the mistake (generally he was believed to be Lee Sarason) and the command that a new emblem be suggested by every member of the M.M. Day and night for three days, M.M. barracks were hectic with telegrams, telephone calls, letters, placards, and thousands of young men sat with pencils and rulers earnestly drawing tens of thousands of substitutes for the five-pointed star: circles in triangles, triangles in circles, pentagons, hexagons, alphas and omegas, eagles, aeroplanes, arrows, bombs bursting in air, bombs bursting in bushes, billy-goats, rhinoceri, and the Yosemite Valley. It was circulated that a young ensign on High Marshal Sarason's staff had, in agony over the error, committed suicide. Everybody thought that this hara-kiri was a fine idea and showed sensibility on the part of the better M.M.'s; and they went on thinking so even after it proved that the Ensign had merely got drunk at the Buzz Backgammon Club and talked about suicide.

In the end, despite his uncounted competitors, it was the great mystic, Lee Sarason himself, who found the perfect new emblem—a ship's steering wheel.

It symbolized, he pointed out, not only the Ship of State but also the wheels of American industry, the wheels and the steering wheel of motorcars, the wheel diagram which Father Coughlin had suggested two years before as symbolizing the program of the National Union for Social Justice, and, particularly, the wheel emblem of the Rotary Club.

Sarason's proclamation also pointed out that it would not be too far-fetched to declare that, with a little drafting treatment, the arms of the Swastika could be seen as unquestionably related to the circle, and how about the K.K.K. of the Kuklux Klan? Three K's made a triangle, didn't they? and everybody knew that a triangle was related to a circle.

So it was that in September, at the demonstrations on Loyalty Day (which replaced Labor Day), the same wide-flung seraphim sang:

"Buzz and buzz and hail the Chief, And th' mystic steering whee-el, The U.S. ne'er can come to grief While we defend its we-al."

In mid-August, President Windrip announced that, since all its aims were being accomplished, the League of Forgotten Men (founded by one Rev. Mr. Prang, who was mentioned in the proclamation only as a person in past history) was now terminated. So were all the older parties, Democratic, Republican, Farmer-Labor, or what not. There was to be only one: The American Corporate State and Patriotic Party—no! added the President, with something of his former good-humor: "there are two parties, the Corporate and those who don't belong to any party at all, and so, to use a common phrase, are just out of luck!"

The idea of the Corporate or Corporative State, Secretary Sarason had more or less taken from Italy. All occupations were divided into six classes: agriculture, industry, commerce, transportation and communication, banking and insurance and investment, and a grab-bag class including the arts, sciences, and teaching. The American Federation of Labor, the Railway Brotherhoods, and all other labor organizations, along with the Federal Department of Labor, were supplanted by local Syndicates composed of individual workers, above which were Provincial Confederations, all under governmental guidance. Parallel to them in each occupation were Syndicates and Confederations of employers. Finally, the six Confederations of workers and the six Confederations of employers were combined in six joint federal Corporations, which elected the twenty-four members of the National Council of Corporations, which initiated or supervised all legislation relating to labor or business.

There was a permanent chairman of this National Council, with a deciding vote and the power of regulating all debate as he saw fit, but he was not elected—he was appointed by the President; and the first to hold the office (without interfering with his other duties) was Secretary of State Lee Sarason. Just to safeguard the liberties of Labor, this chairman had the right to dismiss any unreasonable member of the National Council.

All strikes and lockouts were forbidden under federal penalties, so that workmen listened to reasonable government representatives and not to unscrupulous agitators.

Windrip's partisans called themselves the Corporatists, or, familiarly, the "Corpos," which nickname was generally used.

By ill-natured people the Corpos were called "the Corpses." But they were not at all corpse-like. That description would more correctly, and increasingly, have applied to their enemies.

Though the Corpos continued to promise a gift of at least $5000 to every family, "as soon as funding of the required bond issue shall be completed," the actual management of the poor, particularly of the more surly and dissatisfied poor, was undertaken by the Minute Men.

It could now be published to the world, and decidedly it was published, that unemployment had, under the benign reign of President Berzelius Windrip, almost disappeared. Almost all workless men were assembled in enormous labor camps, under M.M. officers. Their wives and children accompanied them and took care of the cooking, cleaning, and repair of clothes. The men did not merely work on state projects; they were also hired out at the reasonable rate of one dollar a day to private employers. Of course, so selfish is human nature even in Utopia, this did cause most employers to discharge the men to whom they had been paying more than a dollar a day, but that took care of itself, because these overpaid malcontents in their turn were forced into the labor camps.

Out of their dollar a day, the workers in the camps had to pay from seventy to ninety cents a day for board and lodging.

There was a certain discontentment among people who had once owned motorcars and bathrooms and eaten meat twice daily, at having to walk ten or twenty miles a day, bathe once a week, along with fifty others, in a long trough, get meat only twice a week—when they got it—and sleep in bunks, a hundred in a room. Yet there was less rebellion than a mere rationalist like Walt Trowbridge, Windrip's ludicrously defeated rival, would have expected, for every evening the loudspeaker brought to the workers the precious voices of Windrip and Sarason, Vice-President Beecroft, Secretary of War Luthorne, Secretary of Education and Propaganda Macgoblin, General Coon, or some other genius, and these Olympians, talking to the dirtiest and tiredest mudsills as warm friend to friend, told them that they were the honored foundation stones of a New Civilization, the advance guards of the conquest of the whole world.

They took it, too, like Napoleon's soldiers. And they had the Jews and the Negroes to look down on, more and more. The M.M.'s saw to that. Every man is a king so long as he has someone to look down on.

Each week the government said less about the findings of the board of inquiry which was to decide how the $5000 per person could be wangled. It became easier to answer malcontents with a cuff from a Minute Man than by repetitious statements from Washington.

But most of the planks in Windrip's platform really were carried out—according to a sane interpretation of them. For example, inflation.

In America of this period, inflation did not even compare with the German inflation of the 1920's, but it was sufficient. The wage in the labor camps had to be raised from a dollar a day to three, with which the workers were receiving an equivalent of sixty cents a day in 1914 values. Everybody delightfully profited, except the very poor, the common workmen, the skilled workmen, the small business men, the professional men, and old couples living on annuities or their savings—these last did really suffer a little, as their incomes were cut in three. The workers, with apparently tripled wages, saw the cost of everything in the shops much more than triple.

Agriculture, which was most of all to have profited from inflation, on the theory that the mercurial crop-prices would rise faster than anything else, actually suffered the most of all, because, after a first flurry of foreign buying, importers of American products found it impossible to deal in so skittish a market, and American food exports—such of them as were left—ceased completely.

It was Big Business, that ancient dragon which Bishop Prang and Senator Windrip had gone forth to slay, that had the interesting time.

With the value of the dollar changing daily, the elaborate systems of cost-marking and credit of Big Business were so confused that presidents and sales-managers sat in their offices after midnight, with wet towels. But they got some comfort, because with the depreciated dollar they were able to recall all bonded indebtedness and, paying it off at the old face values, get rid of it at thirty cents on the hundred. With this, and the currency so wavering that employees did not know just what they ought to get in wages, and labor unions eliminated, the larger industrialists came through the inflation with perhaps double the wealth, in real values, that they had had in 1936.

And two other planks in Windrip's encyclical vigorously respected were those eliminating the Negroes and patronizing the Jews.

The former race took it the less agreeably. There were horrible instances in which whole Southern counties with a majority of Negro population were overrun by the blacks and all property seized. True, their leaders alleged that this followed massacres of Negroes by Minute Men. But as Dr. Macgoblin, Secretary of Culture, so well said, this whole subject was unpleasant and therefore not helpful to discuss.

All over the country, the true spirit of Windrip's Plank Nine, regarding the Jews, was faithfully carried out. It was understood that the Jews were no longer to be barred from fashionable hotels, as in the hideous earlier day of race prejudice, but merely to be charged double rates. It was understood that Jews were never to be discouraged from trading but were merely to pay higher graft to commissioners and inspectors and to accept without debate all regulations, wage rates, and price lists decided upon by the stainless Anglo-Saxons of the various merchants' associations. And that all Jews of all conditions were frequently to sound their ecstasy in having found in America a sanctuary, after their deplorable experiences among the prejudices of Europe.

In Fort Beulah, Louis Rotenstern, since he had always been the first to stand up for the older official national anthems, "The Star-Spangled Banner" or "Dixie," and now for "Buzz and Buzz," since he had of old been considered almost an authentic friend by Francis Tasbrough and R. C. Crowley, and since he had often good-naturedly pressed the unrecognized Shad Ledue's Sunday pants without charge, was permitted to retain his tailor shop, though it was understood that he was to charge members of the M.M. prices that were only nominal, or quarter nominal.

But one Harry Kindermann, a Jew who had profiteered enough as agent for maple-sugar and dairy machinery so that in 1936 he had been paying the last installment on his new bungalow and on his Buick, had always been what Shad Ledue called "a fresh Kike." He had laughed at the flag, the Church, and even Rotary. Now he found the manufacturers canceling his agencies, without explanation.

By the middle of 1937 he was selling frankfurters by the road, and his wife, who had been so proud of the piano and the old American pine cupboard in their bungalow, was dead, from pneumonia caught in the one-room tar-paper shack into which they had moved.

At the time of Windrip's election, there had been more than 80,000 relief administrators employed by the federal and local governments in America. With the labor camps absorbing most people on relief, this army of social workers, both amateurs and long-trained professional uplifters, was stranded.

The Minute Men controlling the labor camps were generous: they offered the charitarians the same dollar a day that the proletarians received, with special low rates for board and lodging. But the cleverer social workers received a much better offer: to help list every family and every unmarried person in the country, with his or her finances, professional ability, military training and, most important and most tactfully to be ascertained, his or her secret opinion of the M.M.'s and of the Corpos in general.

A good many of the social workers indignantly said that this was asking them to be spies, stool pigeons for the American Oh Gay Pay Oo. These were, on various unimportant charges, sent to jail or, later, to concentration camps—which were also jails, but the private jails of the M.M.'s, unshackled by any old-fashioned, nonsensical prison regulations.

In the confusion of the summer and early autumn of 1937, local M.M. officers had a splendid time making their own laws, and such congenital traitors and bellyachers as Jewish doctors, Jewish musicians, Negro journalists, socialistic college professors, young men who preferred reading or chemical research to manly service with the M.M.'s, women who complained when their men had been taken away by the M.M.'s and had disappeared, were increasingly beaten in the streets, or arrested on charges that would not have been very familiar to pre-Corpo jurists.

And, increasingly, the bourgeois counter revolutionists began to escape to Canada; just as once, by the "underground railroad" the Negro slaves had escaped into that free Northern air.

In Canada, as well as in Mexico, Bermuda, Jamaica, Cuba, and Europe, these lying Red propagandists began to publish the vilest little magazines, accusing the Corpos of murderous terrorism— allegations that a band of six M.M.'s had beaten an aged rabbi and robbed him; that the editor of a small labor paper in Paterson had been tied to his printing press and left there while the M.M.'s burned the plant; that the pretty daughter of an ex-Farmer-Labor politician in Iowa had been raped by giggling young men in masks.

To end this cowardly flight of the lying counter revolutionists (many of whom, once accepted as reputable preachers and lawyers and doctors and writers and ex-congressmen and ex-army officers, were able to give a wickedly false impression of Corpoism and the M.M.'s to the world outside America) the government quadrupled the guards who were halting suspects at every harbor and at even the minutest trails crossing the border; and in one quick raid, it poured M.M. storm troopers into all airports, private or public, and all aeroplane factories, and thus, they hoped, closed the air lanes to skulking traitors.

As one of the most poisonous counter revolutionists in the country, Ex-Senator Walt Trowbridge, Windrip's rival in the election of 1936, was watched night and day by a rotation of twelve M.M. guards. But there seemed to be small danger that this opponent, who, after all, was a crank but not an intransigent maniac, would make himself ridiculous by fighting against the great Power which (per Bishop Prang) Heaven had been pleased to send for the healing of distressed America.

Trowbridge remained prosaically on a ranch he owned in South Dakota, and the government agent commanding the M.M.'s (a skilled man, trained in breaking strikes) reported that on his tapped telephone wire and in his steamed-open letters, Trowbridge communicated nothing more seditious than reports on growing alfalfa. He had with him no one but ranch hands and, in the house, an innocent aged couple.

Washington hoped that Trowbridge was beginning to see the light. Maybe they would make him Ambassador to Britain, vice Sinclair.

On the Fourth of July, when the M.M's gave their glorious but unfortunate tribute to the Chief and the Five-pointed Star, Trowbridge gratified his cow-punchers by holding an unusually pyrotechnic celebration. All evening skyrockets flared up, and round the home pasture glowed pots of Roman fire. Far from cold-shouldering the M.M. guards, Trowbridge warmly invited them to help set off rockets and join the gang in beer and sausages. The lonely soldier boys off there on the prairie—they were so happy shooting rockets!

An aeroplane with a Canadian license, a large plane, flying without lights, sped toward the rocket-lighted area and, with engine shut off, so that the guards could not tell whether it had flown on, circled the pasture outlined by the Roman fire and swiftly landed.

The guards had felt sleepy after the last bottle of beer. Three of them were napping on the short, rough grass.

They were rather disconcertingly surrounded by men in masking flying-helmets, men carrying automatic pistols, who handcuffed the guards that were still awake, picked up the others, and stored all twelve of them in the barred baggage compartment of the plane.

The raiders' leader, a military-looking man, said to Walt Trowbridge, "Ready, sir?"

"Yep. Just take those four boxes, will you, please, Colonel?"

The boxes contained photostats of letters and documents.

Unregally clad in overalls and a huge straw hat, Senator Trowbridge entered the pilots' compartment. High and swift and alone, the plane flew toward the premature Northern Lights.

Next morning, still in overalls, Trowbridge breakfasted at the Fort Garry Hotel with the Mayor of Winnipeg.

A fortnight later, in Toronto, he began the republication of his weekly, A Lance for Democracy, and on the cover of the first number were reproductions of four letters indicating that before he became President, Berzelius Windrip had profited through personal gifts from financiers to an amount of over $1,000,000. To Doremus Jessup, to some thousands of Doremus Jessups, were smuggled copies of the Lance, though possession of it was punishable (perhaps not legally, but certainly effectively) by death.

But it was not till the winter, so carefully did his secret agents have to work in America, that Trowbridge had in full operation the organization called by its operatives the "New Underground," the "N.U.," which aided thousands of counter revolutionists to escape into Canada.

CHAPTER XVIII

IN the little towns, ah, there is the abiding peace that I love, and that can never be disturbed by even the noisiest Smart Alecks from these haughty megalopolises like Washington, New York, & etc.

Zero Hour, Berzelius Windrip.

DOREMUS'S policy of "wait and see," like most Fabian policies, had grown shaky. It seemed particularly shaky in June, 1937, when he drove to North Beulah for the fortieth graduation anniversary of his class in Isaiah College.

As the custom was, the returned alumni wore comic costumes. His class had sailor suits, but they walked about, bald-headed and lugubrious, in these well-meant garments of joy, and there was a look of instability even in the eyes of the three members who were ardent Corpos (being local Corpo commissioners).

After the first hour Doremus saw little of his classmates. He had looked up his familiar correspondent, Victor Loveland, teacher in the classical department who, a year ago, had informed him of President Owen J. Peaseley's ban on criticism of military training.

At its best, Loveland's jerry-built imitation of an Anne Hathaway cottage had been no palace—Isaiah assistant professors did not customarily rent palaces. Now, with the pretentiously smart living room heaped with burlap-covered chairs and rolled rugs and boxes of books, it looked like a junkshop. Amid the wreckage sat Loveland, his wife, his three children, and one Dr. Arnold King, experimenter in chemistry.

"What's all this?" said Doremus.

"I've been fired. As too 'radical,'" growled Loveland.

"Yes! And his most vicious attack has been on Glicknow's treatment of the use of the aorist in Hesiod!" wailed his wife.

"Well, I deserve it—for not having been vicious about anything since A.D. 300! Only thing I'm ashamed of is that they're not firing me for having taught my students that the Corpos have taken most of their ideas from Tiberius, or maybe for having decently tried to assassinate District Commissioner Reek!" said Loveland.

"Where you going?" inquired Doremus.

"That's just it! We don't know! Oh, first to my dad's house— which is a six-room packing-box in Burlington—Dad's got diabetes. But teaching—President Peaseley kept putting off signing my new contract and just informed me ten days ago that I'm through—much too late to get a job for next year. Myself, I don't care a damn! Really I don't! I'm glad to have been made to admit that as a college prof I haven't been, as I so liked to convince myself, any Erasmus Junior, inspiring noble young souls to dream of chaste classic beauty—save the mark!—but just a plain hired man, another counter-jumper in the Marked-down Classics Goods Department, with students for bored customers, and as subject to being hired and fired as any janitor. Do you remember that in Imperial Rome, the teachers, even the tutors of the nobility, were slaves—allowed a lot of leeway, I suppose, in their theories about the anthropology of Crete, but just as likely to be strangled as the other slaves! I'm not kicking—"

Dr. King, the chemist, interrupted with a whoop: "Sure you're kicking! Why the hell not? With three kids? Why not kick! Now me, I'm lucky! I'm half Jew—one of these sneaking, cunning Jews that Buzz Windrip and his boyfriend Hitler tell you about; so cunning I suspected what was going on months ago and so—I've also just been fired, Mr. Jessup—I arranged for a job with the Universal Electric Corporation.... They don't mind Jews there, as long as they sing at their work and find boondoggles worth a million a year to the company—at thirty-five hundred a year salary! A fond farewell to all my grubby studes! Though—" and Doremus thought he was, at heart, sadder than Loveland—"I do kind of hate to give up my research. Oh, hell with 'em!"

The version of Owen J. Peaseley, M.A. (Oberlin), LL.D. (Conn. State), president of Isaiah College, was quite different.

"Why no, Mr. Jessup! We believe absolutely in freedom of speech and thought, here at old Isaiah. The fact is that we are letting Loveland go only because the Classics Department is overstaffed—so little demand for Greek and Sanskrit and so on, you know, with all this modern interest in quantitative bio-physics and aeroplane-repairing and so on. But as to Dr. King—um—I'm afraid we did a little feel that he was riding for a fall, boasting about being a Jew and all, you know, and—But can't we talk of pleasanter subjects? You have probably learned that Secretary of Culture Macgoblin has now completed his plan for the appointment of a director of education in each province and district?—and that Professor Almeric Trout of Aumbry University is slated for Director in our Northeastern Province? Well, I have something very gratifying to add. Dr. Trout—and what a profound scholar, what an eloquent orator he is!—did you know that in Teutonic 'Almeric' means 'noble prince'?—and he's been so kind as to designate me as Director of Education for the Vermont-New Hampshire District! Isn't that thrilling! I wanted you to be one of the first to hear it, Mr. Jessup, because of course one of the chief jobs of the Director will be to work with and through the newspaper editors in the great task of spreading correct Corporate ideals and combating false theories—yes, oh yes."

It seemed as though a large number of people were zealous to work with and through the editors these days, thought Doremus.

He noticed that President Peaseley resembled a dummy made of faded gray flannel of a quality intended for petticoats in an orphan asylum.

The Minute Men's organization was less favored in the staid villages than in the industrial centers, but all through the summer it was known that a company of M.M.'s had been formed in Fort Beulah and were drilling in the Armory under National Guard officers and County Commissioner Ledue, who was seen sitting up nights in his luxurious new room in Mrs. Ingot's boarding-house, reading a manual of arms. But Doremus declined to go look at them, and when his rustic but ambitious reporter, "Doc" (otherwise Otis) Itchitt, came in throbbing about the M.M.'s and wanted to run an illustrated account in the Saturday Informer, Doremus sniffed.

It was not till their first public parade, in August, that Doremus saw them, and not gladly.

The whole countryside had turned out; he could hear them laughing and shuffling beneath his office window; but he stubbornly stuck to editing an article on fertilizers for cherry orchards. (And he loved parades, childishly!) Not even the sound of a band pounding out "Boola, Boola" drew him to the window. Then he was plucked up by Dan Wilgus, the veteran job compositor and head of the Informer chapel, a man tall as a house and possessed of such a sweeping black mustache as had not otherwise been seen since the passing of the old-time bartender. "You got to take a look, Boss; great show!" implored Dan.

Through the Chester-Arthur, red-brick prissiness of President Street, Doremus saw marching a surprisingly well-drilled company of young men in the uniforms of Civil War cavalrymen, and just as they were opposite the Informer office, the town band rollicked into "Marching through Georgia." The young men smiled, they stepped more quickly, and held up their banner with the steering wheel and M.M. upon it.

When he was ten, Doremus had seen in this self-same street a Memorial Day parade of the G.A.R. The veterans were an average of under fifty then, and some of them only thirty-five; they had swung ahead lightly and gayly—and to the tune of "Marching through Georgia." So now in 1937 he was looking down again on the veterans of Gettysburg and Missionary Ridge. Oh—he could see them all— Uncle Tom Veeder, who had made him the willow whistles; old Mr. Crowley with his cornflower eyes; Jack Greenhill who played leapfrog with the kids and who was to die in Ethan Creek—They found him with thick hair dripping. Doremus thrilled to the M.M. flags, the music, the valiant young men, even while he hated all they marched for, and hated the Shad Ledue whom he incredulously recognized in the brawny horseman at the head of the procession.

He understood now why the young men marched to war. But "Oh yeh— you think so!" he could hear Shad sneering through the music.

The unwieldy humor characteristic of American politicians persisted even through the eruption. Doremus read about and sardonically "played up" in the Informer a minstrel show given at the National Convention of Boosters' Clubs at Atlantic City, late in August. As end-men and interlocutor appeared no less distinguished persons than Secretary of the Treasury Webster R. Skittle, Secretary of War Luthorne, and Secretary of Education and Public Relations, Dr. Macgoblin. It was good, old-time Elks Club humor, uncorroded by any of the notions of dignity and of international obligations which, despite his great services, that queer stick Lee Sarason was suspected of trying to introduce. Why (marveled the Boosters) the Big Boys were so democratic that they even kidded themselves and the Corpos, that's how unassuming they were!

"Who was this lady I seen you going down the street with?" demanded the plump Mr. Secretary Skittle (disguised as a colored wench in polka-dotted cotton) of Mr. Secretary Luthorne (in black-face and large red gloves).

"That wasn't no lady, that was Walt Trowbridge's paper."

"Ah don't think Ah cognosticates youse, Mist' Bones."

"Why—you know—'A Nance for Plutocracy.'"

Clean fun, not too confusingly subtle, drawing the people (several millions listened on the radio to the Boosters' Club show) closer to their great-hearted masters.

But the high point of the show was Dr. Macgoblin's daring to tease his own faction by singing:

Buzz and booze and biz, what fun! This job gets drearier and drearier, When I get out of Washington, I'm going to Siberia!

It seemed to Doremus that he was hearing a great deal about the Secretary of Education. Then, in late September, he heard something not quite pleasant about Dr. Macgoblin. The story, as he got it, ran thus:

Hector Macgoblin, that great surgeon-boxer-poet-sailor, had always contrived to have plenty of enemies, but after the beginning of his investigation of schools, to purge them of any teachers he did not happen to like, he made so unusually many that he was accompanied by bodyguards. At this time in September, he was in New York, finding quantities of "subversive elements" in Columbia University— against the protests of President Nicholas Murray Butler, who insisted that he had already cleaned out all willful and dangerous thinkers, especially the pacifists in the medical school—and Macgoblin's bodyguards were two former instructors in philosophy who in their respective universities had been admired even by their deans for everything except the fact that they would get drunk and quarrelsome. One of them, in that state, always took off one shoe and hit people over the head with the heel, if they argued in defense of Jung.

With these two in uniforms as M.M. battalion leaders—his own was that of a brigadier—after a day usefully spent in kicking out of Columbia all teachers who had voted for Trowbridge, Dr. Macgoblin started off with his brace of bodyguards to try out a wager that he could take a drink at every bar on Fifty-second Street and still not pass out.

He had done well when, at ten-thirty, being then affectionate and philanthropic, he decided that it would be a splendid idea to telephone his revered former teacher in Leland Stanford, the biologist Dr. Willy Schmidt, once of Vienna, now in Rockefeller Institute. Macgoblin was indignant when someone at Dr. Schmidt's apartment informed him that the doctor was out. Furiously: "Out? Out? What d'you mean he's out? Old goat like that got no right to be out! At midnight! Where is he? This is the Police Department speaking! Where is he?"

Dr. Schmidt was spending the evening with that gentle scholar, Rabbi Dr. Vincent de Verez.

Macgoblin and his learned gorillas went to call on De Verez. On the way nothing of note happened except that when Macgoblin discussed the fare with the taxi-driver, he felt impelled to knock him out. The three, and they were in the happiest, most boyish of spirits, burst joyfully into Dr. de Verez's primeval house in the Sixties. The entrance hall was shabby enough, with a humble show of the good rabbi's umbrellas and storm rubbers, and had the invaders seen the bedrooms they would have found them Trappist cells. But the long living room, front-and back-parlor thrown together, was half museum, half lounge. Just because he himself liked such things and resented a stranger's possessing them, Macgoblin looked sniffily at a Beluchi prayer rug, a Jacobean court cupboard, a small case of incunabula and of Arabic manuscripts in silver upon scarlet parchment.

"Swell joint! Hello, Doc! How's the Dutchman? How's the antibody research going? These are Doc Nemo and Doc, uh, Doc Whoozis, the famous glue lifters. Great frenzh mine. Introduce us to your Jew friend."

Now it is more than possible that Rabbi de Verez had never heard of Secretary of Education Macgoblin.

The houseman who had let in the intruders and who nervously hovered at the living-room door—he is the sole authority for most of the story—said that Macgoblin staggered, slid on a rug, almost fell, then giggled foolishly as he sat down, waving his plug-ugly friends to chairs and demanding, "Hey, Rabbi, how about some whisky? Lil Scotch and soda. I know you Geonim never lap up anything but snow-cooled nectar handed out by a maiden with a dulcimer, singing of Mount Abora, or maybe just a little shot of Christian children's sacrificial blood—ha, ha, just a joke, Rabbi; I know these 'Protocols of the Elders of Zion' are all the bunk, but awful handy in propaganda, just the same and—But I mean, for plain Goyim like us, a little real hootch! Hear me?"

Dr. Schmidt started to protest. The Rabbi, who had been carding his white beard, silenced him and, with a wave of his fragile old hand, signaled the waiting houseman, who reluctantly brought in whisky and siphons.

The three coordinators of culture almost filled their glasses before they poured in the soda.

"Look here, De Verez, why don't you kikes take a tumble to yourselves and get out, beat it, exeunt bearing corpses, and start a real Zion, say in South America?"

The Rabbi looked bewildered at the attack. Dr. Schmidt snorted, "Dr. Macgoblin—once a promising pupil of mine—is Secretary of Education and a lot of t'ings—I don't know vot!—at Washington. Corpo!"

"Oh!" The Rabbi sighed. "I have heard of that cult, but my people have learned to ignore persecution. We have been so impudent as to adopt the tactics of your Early Christian Martyrs! Even if we were invited to your Corporate feast—which, I understand, we most warmly are not!—I am afraid we should not be able to attend. You see, we believe in only one Dictator, God, and I am afraid we cannot see Mr. Windrip as a rival to Jehovah!"

"Aah, that's all baloney!" murmured one of the learned gunmen, and Macgoblin shouted, "Oh, can the two-dollar words! There's just one thing where we agree with the dirty, Kike-loving Communists—that's in chucking the whole bunch of divinities, Jehovah and all the rest of 'em, that've been on relief so long!"

The Rabbi was unable even to answer, but little Dr. Schmidt (he had a doughnut mustache, a beer belly, and black button boots with soles half-an-inch thick) said, "Macgoblin, I suppose I may talk frank wit' an old student, there not being any reporters or loutspeakers arount. Do you know why you are drinking like a pig? Because you are ashamt! Ashamt that you, once a promising researcher, should have solt out to freebooters with brains like decayed liver and—"

"That'll do from you, Prof!"

"Say, we oughtta tie those seditious sons of hounds up and beat the daylight out of 'em!" whimpered one of the watchdogs.

Macgoblin shrieked, "You highbrows—you stinking intellectuals! You, you Kike, with your lush-luzurious library, while Common People been starving—would be now if the Chief hadn't saved 'em! Your c'lection books—stolen from the pennies of your poor, dumb, foot-kissing congregation of pushcart peddlers!"

The Rabbi sat bespelled, fingering his beard, but Dr. Schmidt leaped up, crying, "You three scoundrels were not invited here! You pushed your way in! Get out! Go! Get out!"

One of the accompanying dogs demanded of Macgoblin, "Going to stand for these two Yiddles insulting us—insulting the whole by God Corpo state and the M.M. uniform? Kill 'em!"

Now, to his already abundant priming, Macgoblin had added two huge whiskies since he had come. He yanked out his automatic pistol, fired twice. Dr. Schmidt toppled. Rabbi De Verez slid down in his chair, his temple throbbing out blood. The houseman trembled at the door, and one of the guards shot at him, then chased him down the street, firing, and whooping with the humor of the joke. This learned guard was killed instantly, at a street crossing, by a traffic policeman.

Macgoblin and the other guard were arrested and brought before the Commissioner of the Metropolitan District, the great Corpo viceroy, whose power was that of three or four state governors put together.

Dr. de Verez, though he was not yet dead, was too sunken to testify. But the Commissioner thought that in a case so closely touching the federal government, it would not be seemly to postpone the trial.

Against the terrified evidence of the Rabbi's Russian-Polish houseman were the earnest (and by now sober) accounts of the federal Secretary of Education, and of his surviving aide, formerly Assistant Professor of Philosophy in Pelouse University. It was proven that not only De Verez but also Dr. Schmidt was a Jew— which, incidentally, he 100 per cent was not. It was almost proven that this sinister pair had been coaxing innocent Corpos into De Verez's house and performing upon them what a scared little Jewish stool pigeon called "ritual murders." Macgoblin and friend were acquitted on grounds of self-defense and handsomely complimented by the Commissioner—and later in telegrams from President Windrip and Secretary of State Sarason—for having defended the Commonwealth against human vampires and one of the most horrifying plots known in history.

The policeman who had shot the other guard wasn't, so scrupulous was Corpo justice, heavily punished—merely sent out to a dreary beat in the Bronx. So everybody was happy.

But Doremus Jessup, on receiving a letter from a New York reporter who had talked privately with the surviving guard, was not so happy. He was not in a very gracious temper, anyway. County Commissioner Shad Ledue, on grounds of humanitarianism, had made him discharge his delivery boys and employ M.M.'s to distribute (or cheerfully chuck into the river) the Informer.

"Last straw—plenty last," he raged.

He had read about Rabbi de Verez and seen pictures of him. He had once heard Dr. Willy Schmidt speak, when the State Medical Association had met at Fort Beulah, and afterward had sat near him at dinner. If they were murderous Jews, then he was a murderous Jew too, he swore, and it was time to do something for His Own People.

That evening—it was late in September, 1937—he did not go home to dinner at all but, with a paper container of coffee and a slab of pie untouched before him, he stooped at his desk in the Informer office, writing an editorial which, when he had finished it, he marked: "Must. 12-pt bold face—box top front p."

The beginning of the editorial, to appear the following morning was:

Believing that the inefficiency and crimes of the Corpo administration were due to the difficulties attending a new form of government, we have waited patiently for their end. We apologize to our readers for that patience.

It is easy to see now, in the revolting crime of a drunken cabinet member against two innocent and valuable old men like Dr. Schmidt and the Rev. Dr. de Verez, that we may expect nothing but murderous extirpation of all honest opponents of the tyranny of Windrip and his Corpo gang.

Not that all of them are as vicious as Macgoblin. Some are merely incompetent—like our friends Ledue, Reek, and Haik. But their ludicrous incapability permits the homicidal cruelty of their chieftains to go on without check.

Buzzard Windrip, the "Chief," and his pirate gang—

A smallish, neat, gray-bearded man, furiously rattling an aged typewriter, typing with his two forefingers.

Dan Wilgus, head of the composing room, looked and barked like an old sergeant and, like an old sergeant, was only theoretically meek to his superior officer. He was shaking when he brought in this copy and, almost rubbing Doremus's nose in it, protested, "Say, boss, you don't honest t' God think we're going to set this up, do you?"

"I certainly do!"

"Well, I don't! Rattlesnake poison! It's all right your getting thrown in the hoosegow and probably shot at dawn, if you like that kind of sport, but we've held a meeting of the chapel, and we all say, damned if we'll risk our necks too!"

"All right, you yellow pup! All right, Dan, I'll set it myself!"

"Aw, don't! Gosh, I don't want to have to go to your funeral after the M.M.'s get through with you, and say, 'Don't he look unnatural!'"

"After working for me for twenty years, Dan! Traitor!"

"Look here! I'm no Enoch Arden or—oh, what the hell was his name?—Ethan Frome or Benedict Arnold or whatever it was!—and more 'n once I've licked some galoot that was standing around a saloon telling the world you were the lousiest highbrow editor in Vermont, and at that, I guess maybe he was telling the truth, but same time—" Dan's effort to be humorous and coaxing broke, and he wailed, "God, boss, please don't!"

"I know, Dan. Prob'ly our friend Shad Ledue will be annoyed. But I can't go on standing things like slaughtering old De Verez any more and—Here! Gimme that copy!"

While compositors, pressmen, and the young devil stood alternately fretting and snickering at his clumsiness, Doremus ranged up before a type case, in his left hand the first composing-stick he had held in ten years, and looked doubtfully at the case. It was like a labyrinth to him. "Forgot how it's arranged. Can't find anything except the e-box!" he complained.

"Hell! I'll do it! All you pussyfooters get the hell out of this! You don't know one doggone thing about who set this up!" Dan Wilgus roared, and the other printers vanished!—as far as the toilet door.

In the editorial office, Doremus showed proofs of his indiscretion to Doc Itchitt, that enterprising though awkward reporter, and to Julian Falck, who was off now to Amherst but who had been working for the Informer all summer, combining unprintable articles on Adam Smith with extremely printable accounts of golf and dances at the country club.

"Gee, I hope you will have the nerve to go on and print it—and same time, I hope you don't! They'll get you!" worried Julian.

"Naw! Gwan and print it! They won't dare to do a thing! They may get funny in New York and Washington, but you're too strong in the Beulah Valley for Ledue and Staubmeyer to dare lift a hand!" brayed Doc Itchitt, while Doremus considered, "I wonder if this smart young journalistic Judas wouldn't like to see me in trouble and get hold of the Informer and turn it Corpo?"

He did not stay at the office till the paper with his editorial had gone to press. He went home early, and showed the proof to Emma and Sissy. While they were reading it, with yelps of disapproval, Julian Falck slipped in.

Emma protested, "Oh, you can't—you mustn't do it! What will become of us all? Honestly, Dormouse, I'm not scared for myself, but what would I do if they beat you or put you in prison or something? It would just break my heart to think of you in a cell! And without any clean underclothes! It isn't too late to stop it, is it?"

"No. As a matter of fact the paper doesn't go to bed till eleven.... Sissy, what do you think?"

"I don't know what to think! Oh damn!"

"Why Sis-sy," from Emma, quite mechanically.

"It used to be, you did what was right and got a nice stick of candy for it," said Sissy. "Now, it seems as if whatever's right is wrong. Julian—funny-face—what do you think of Pop's kicking Shad in his sweet hairy ears?"

"Why, Sis—"

Julian blurted, "I think it'd be fierce if somebody didn't try to stop these fellows. I wish I could do it. But how could I?"

"You've probably answered the whole business," said Doremus. "If a man is going to assume the right to tell several thousand readers what's what—most agreeable, hitherto—he's got a kind of you might say priestly obligation to tell the truth. 'O cursed spite.' Well! I think I'll drop into the office again. Home about midnight. Don't sit up, anybody—and Sissy, and you, Julian, that particularly goes for you two night prowlers! As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord—and in Vermont, that means going to bed."

"And alone!" murmured Sissy.

"Why—Cecilia—Jes-sup!"

As Doremus trotted out, Foolish, who had sat adoring him, jumped up, hoping for a run.

Somehow, more than all of Emma's imploring, the dog's familiar devotion made Doremus feel what it might be to go to prison.

He had lied. He did not return to the office. He drove up the valley to the Tavern and to Lorinda Pike.

But on the way he stopped in at the home of his son-in-law, bustling young Dr. Fowler Greenhill; not to show him the proof but to have—perhaps in prison?—another memory of the domestic life in which he had been rich. He stepped quietly into the front hall of the Greenhill house—a jaunty imitation of Mount Vernon; very prosperous and secure, gay with the brass-knobbed walnut furniture and painted Russian boxes which Mary Greenhill affected. Doremus could hear David (but surely it was past his bedtime?—what time did nine-year-old kids go to bed these degenerate days?) excitedly chattering with his father, and his father's partner, old Dr. Marcus Olmsted, who was almost retired but who kept up the obstetrics and eye-and-ear work for the firm.

Doremus peeped into the living room, with its bright curtains of yellow linen. David's mother was writing letters, a crisp, fashionable figure at a maple desk complete with yellow quill pen, engraved notepaper, and silver-backed blotter. Fowler and David were lounging on the two wide arms of Dr. Olmsted's chair.

"So you don't think you'll be a doctor, like your dad and me?" Dr. Olmsted was quizzing.

David's soft hair fluttered as he bobbed his head in the agitation of being taken seriously by grown-ups.

"Oh—oh—oh yes, I would like to. Oh, I think it'd be slick to be a doctor. But I want to be a newspaper, like Granddad. That'd be a wow! You said it!"

("Da-vid! Where you ever pick up such language!")

"You see, Uncle-Doctor, a doctor, oh gee, he has to stay up all night, but an editor, he just sits in his office and takes it easy and never has to worry about nothing!"

That moment, Fowler Greenhill saw his father-in-law making monkey faces at him from the door and admonished David, "Now, not always! Editors have to work pretty hard sometimes—just think of when there's train wrecks and floods and everything! I'll tell you. Did you know I have magic power?"

"What's 'magic power,' Daddy?"

"I'll show you. I'll summon your granddad here from misty deeps—"

("But will he come?" grunted Dr. Olmsted.)

"—and have him tell you all the troubles an editor has. Just make him come flying through the air!"

"Aw, gee, you couldn't do that, Dad!"

"Oh, can't I!" Fowler stood solemnly, the overhead lights making soft his harsh red hair, and he windmilled his arms, hooting, "Presto—vesto—adsit—Granddad Jes-sup—voilà!"

And there, coming through the doorway, sure enough was Granddad Jessup!

Doremus remained only ten minutes, saying to himself, "Anyway, nothing bad can happen here, in this solid household." When Fowler saw him to the door, Doremus sighed to him, "Wish Davy were right— just had to sit in the office and not worry. But I suppose some day I'll have a run-in with the Corpos."

"I hope not. Nasty bunch. What do you think, Dad? That swine Shad Ledue told me yesterday they wanted me to join the M.M.'s as medical officer. Fat chance! I told him so."

"Watch out for Shad, Fowler. He's vindictive. Made us rewire our whole building."

"I'm not scared of Captain General Ledue or fifty like him! Hope he calls me in for a bellyache some day! I'll give him a good sedative—potassium of cyanide. Maybe I'll some day have the pleasure of seeing that gent in his coffin. That's the advantage the doctor has, you know! G'-night, Dad! Sleep tight!"

A good many tourists were still coming up from New York to view the colored autumn of Vermont, and when Doremus arrived at the Beulah Valley Tavern he had irritably to wait while Lorinda dug out extra towels and looked up tram schedules and was polite to old ladies who complained that there was too much—or not enough—sound from the Beulah River Falls at night. He could not talk to her apart until after ten. There was, meanwhile, a curious exalted luxury in watching each lost minute threaten him with the approach of the final press time, as he sat in the tea room, imperturbably scratching through the leaves of the latest Fortune.

Lorinda led him, at ten-fifteen, into her little office—just a roll-top desk, a desk chair, one straight chair, and a table piled with heaps of defunct hotel-magazines. It was spinsterishly neat yet smelled still of the cigar smoke and old letter files of proprietors long since gone.

"Let's hurry, Dor. I'm having a little dust-up with that snipe Nipper." She plumped down at the desk.

"Linda, read this proof. For tomorrow's paper.... No. Wait. Stand up."

"Eh?"

He himself took the desk chair and pulled her down on his knees. "Oh, you!" she snorted, but she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder and murmured contentedly.

"Read this, Linda. For tomorrow's paper. I think I'm going to publish it, all right—got to decide finally before eleven—but ought I to? I was sure when I left the office, but Emma was scared—"

"Oh, Emma! Sit still. Let me see it." She read quickly. She always did. At the end she said emotionlessly, "Yes. You must run it. Doremus! They've actually come to us here—the Corpos—it's like reading about typhus in China and suddenly finding it in your own house!"

She rubbed his shoulder with her cheek again, and raged, "Think of it! That Shad Ledue—and I taught him for a year in district school, though I was only two years older than he was—and what a nasty bully he was, too! He came to me a few days ago, and he had the nerve to propose that if I would give lower rates to the M.M.'s—he sort of hinted it would be nice of me to serve M.M. officers free—they would close their eyes to my selling liquor here, without a license or anything! Why, he had the inconceivable nerve to tell me, and condescendingly! my dear—that he and his fine friends would be willing to hang out here a lot! Even Staubmeyer—oh, our 'professor' is blossoming out as quite a sporting character! And when I chased Ledue out, with a flea in his ear—Well, just this morning I got a notice that I have to appear in the county court tomorrow—some complaint from my endearing partner, Mr. Nipper—seems he isn't satisfied with the division of our work here—and honestly, my darling, he never does one blame thing but sit around and bore my best customers to death by telling what a swell hotel he used to have in Florida. And Nipper has taken his things out of here and moved into town. I'm afraid I'll have an unpleasant time, trying to keep from telling him what I think of him, in court."

"Good Lord! Look, sweet, have you got a lawyer for it?"

"Lawyer? Heavens no! Just a misunderstanding—on little Nipper's part."

"You'd better. The Corpos are using the courts for all sorts of graft and for accusations of sedition. Get Mungo Kitterick, my lawyer."

"He's dumb. Ice water in his veins."

"I know, but he's a tidier-up, like so many lawyers. Likes to see everything all neat in pigeonholes. He may not care a damn for justice, but he'll be awfully pained by any irregularities. Please get him, Lindy, because they've got Effingham Swan presiding at court tomorrow."

"Who?"

"Swan—the Military Judge for District Three—that's a new Corpo office. Kind of circuit judge with court-martial powers. This Effingham Swan—I had Doc Itchitt interview him today, when he arrived—he's the perfect gentleman-Fascist—Oswald Mosley style. Good family—whatever that means. Harvard graduate. Columbia Law School, year at Oxford. But went into finance in Boston. Investment banker. Major or something during the war. Plays polo and sailed in a yacht race to Bermuda. Itchitt says he's a big brute, with manners smoother than a butterscotch sundae and more language than a bishop."

"But I'll be glad to have a gentleman to explain things to, instead of Shad."

"A gentleman's blackjack hurts just as much as a mucker's!"

"Oh, you!" with irritated tenderness, running her forefinger along the line of his jaw.

Outside, a footstep.

She sprang up, sat down primly in the straight chair. The footsteps went by. She mused:

"All this trouble and the Corpos—They're going to do something to you and me. We'll become so roused up that—either we'll be desperate and really cling to each other and everybody else in the world can go to the devil or, what I'm afraid is more likely, we'll get so deep into rebellion against Windrip, we'll feel so terribly that we're standing for something, that we'll want to give up everything else for it, even give up you and me. So that no one can ever find out and criticize. We'll have to be beyond criticism."

"No! I won't listen. We will fight, but how can we ever get so involved—detached people like us—"

"You are going to publish that editorial tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"It's not too late to kill it?"

He looked at the clock over her desk—so ludicrously like a grade- school clock that it ought to have been flanked with portraits of George and Martha. "Well, yes, it is too late—almost eleven. Couldn't get to the office till 'way past."

"You're sure you won't worry about it when you go to bed tonight? Dear, I so don't want you to worry! You're sure you don't want to telephone and kill the editorial?"

"Sure. Absolute!"

"I'm glad! Me, I'd rather be shot than go sneaking around, crippled with fear. Bless you!"

She kissed him and hurried off to another hour or two of work, while he drove home, whistling vaingloriously.

But he did not sleep well, in his big black-walnut bed. He startled to the night noises of an old frame house—the easing walls, the step of bodiless assassins creeping across the wooden floors all night long.

[axgmented]

1, 7, 20, 32, and 47 for the 90 questions meme ^^

@starsdeath

What’s your favorite strategy for avoiding tough situations? ╰┈➤ She doesn't have one. Rem actively goes towards dangerous, hazardous, and wild situations. She doesn't throw caution to the wind and just goes in willy-nilly, mind you, she does formulate a plan but most of the time it's very much a "wing it" sort of scenario and making the plan as she goes. She's very much a think-on-her-feet type of gal. Now, when it comes to PR? She lets Rude and Tseng handle all of that. She hates the cameras, the overlapping voices, the pushing and nosey questions that the press has a tendency to ask. So she'll typically hide away in the cubicle of the office somewhere until the crowd dispurses; her strategy for that is more of a "wait them out" type of deal.

What is the one thing people assume about you that you wish was true? ╰┈➤ That Rem is heartless, cold, and unfeeling. Rem feel things immensely. She allows herself to feel anger, rage, hatred, desire, bloodlust, and that feral feeling of letting go in the heat of battle. What she doesn't like to feel, is loved, cared for, soft, and like a person rather than a weapon. She absolutely is an empath but because of her training and her upbringing, Rem can turn it off. It's part of her job to feel nothing, to be ruthless, but gaia she feels so intensely that it's disturbing.

What would someone say is your worst habit? ╰┈➤ It's a toss-up between her foul mouth and smoking. Rem smokes like a freight train and it's disgusting, she knows. However, with her unique genetic make-up and the amount of mako that poisons her blood, drinking isn't really a vice anymore. It takes so much for her to get drunk and even then, her buzz doesn't last like a normal person's would. So she enjoys the sin of smoking. It isn't just limited to cigarettes; she does partake in the devil's lettuce and will absolutely settle down on her balcony with a little joint and a cup of coffee in the morning when her bones are aching but it isn't time for her injections. She enjoys clove cigarettes, cigars with the wood tip (often wine-tipped), and menthol every now and then. The swearing, however, is something that Tseng and Rufus both wish she would stop. Reno taught her most of it, taking to the slum speech like a fish does to water; Tseng also might have inadvertently taught her a few Wutain swears but she hardly ever uses them because of that look the Director slides to her. She does know when to turn it off, like when she has to play guard dog with Rufus at his ever-so-popular meetings. Rufus probably wishes she would speak in actual sentences too, instead of her half-thrown-together, half-finished jargon.

Is your need for revenge greater than your need for peace? ╰┈➤ It's a fifty-fifty feeling; her revenge is misplaced. Considering Hojo's demise, she only feels anger at her creation via the company and anything attached to the ShinRa name; this includes Rufus. She struggles with herself, daily, on wanting to protect the man because he isn't his father, slaughtering him like Mother wants and fulfilling her daughterly duties of bringing ruin to the cosmos-- to bring the reunion. I don't think Rem realises what peace is. She's never known it; her mind is never quiet, there are fleeting feelings of peace, like when she can finally see the stars out on the cliffs. However, the feeling is so foreign to her that she gets disgusted and quickly shoves it away because, as mentioned before, Rem only allows herself to feel the anger and hate she was created with. It's comfortable, it's something familiar. Eventually, I feel as if she will settle on a bitter truth-- she cannot exact her revenge on people who do no deserve it and seek peace with the help of people who have never known it by themselves, but in the company of their brothers in suits.

How much do you enjoy being in control? ╰┈➤ Loves it. If Rem isn't in control, she will find a way to get in control. She refuses to give control over anyone unless she trusts them, and it's not even about missions. She is absolutely the top in most of her sexual encounters. She loves making people feel good-- she likes reducing men and women alike to shaking, whimpering, crying messes. However! that's not to say that Rem doesn't like to relinquish her control; whoever she is with in times like that, she has to really, really trust in order to have them control her. When it comes to the field, Rem knows who to listen to. She knows if she is partnered with Rude, he calls the shots. If it's Reno? It's kind of a free-for-all. They feed off of each other's absolutely bat-shit crazy vibes. God forbid she gets paid with Tseng, because she is seen and never fucking heard. Ever. She will not speak. TLDR; only a select handful of people have control over Rem, but Rufus is the one who's hand is tightest on the leash.

[theameba1436]

Thank you for the tag @vestigialpersonality <3 This is Wesley, I don't really do much with him anymore since I'm no longer writing things for MHA. Here is a little about him. He is human, but his quirk is snake fang, (When he bites a victim his venom will make them feel anything he does, this could be his emotions, pain extra.) He is 32 years old; he enjoys his own space and is a hero that is undercover within the villain hideout.

His scars are not right BTW he would be covered in scars all over his body and has a scar over his left eye and three scars that run over his chin and lips. So, this was the best I could do.

1) An event that defines your character's past

Abe Parker - it is what it is You're walking on the water that I'm drowning in Thought I heard a whisper, was it just the wind again Or the trail of blood I'm following? (Following, following, following) mm-hm And if I'm the one to blame I guess all that I could say This is the best song I can find for Wesley's past. This song is mostly just the feeling of his past since he mostly just wished to die.

3) How others view them

Cage The Elephant - Cold Cold Cold

Doctor, look into my eyes I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life Doctor, the problem's in my chest My heart feels cold as ice, but it's anybody's guess

Doctor, can you help me 'cause I don't feel right? Better make it fast before I change my mind Doctor, can you help me 'cause I don't feel right? Better make it fast before I change my mind This song isn't really a good fit for this question. But - it was the best on my playlist for how people see Wesley. Mostly it is here because of the lines saying that he is cold inside. Like he has no feelings.

4) Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic)

Skin and bones David Kushner

I fantasize to feel you like a bullet And all your layers to the fullest But the heavens won't condone it, mm You deceivin', wayward woman You're a false prophet at the pulpit The condition of your soul is erodin'

Wrap me in your skin and bones, yeah, you're electrical Oh, I'm gonna lose control, yeah, as you pull me close Wrap me in your skin and bones, yeah, you're electrical Oh, I'm gonna lose control

As your flatter talk shivers down my spine I hear the Holy One exposin' all the lies Lord, forgive me, I know my flesh needs to die She has the lips red as cherry wine A poisonous kiss, she's part of the swine My salvation won't be sacrificed

I picked this song for Wesley's relationship. His relationship with Dabi would be that of obsession and it would be toxic since Wesley is a hero and Dabi is a villain, and their ways of thinking don't match most of the time. That is until they do.

5) A major fight scene

disturbed - the vengeful one

As I survey the chaos, taking in the lack of raw humanity It's as if the entire world's fallen in love with their insanity Hear the innocent voices scream As their tormentors laugh through all of it No forgiveness for all I've seen A degradation I cannot forget

So sleep soundly in your beds tonight For judgement falls upon you at first light

I picked this song because in the end Wesley gives up being a hero and turns to the side of the villains.

6) End credits song

(Ooh) there's darkness in the distance I'm begging for forgiveness (Ooh) but I know I might resist it, oh

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time You and I drink the poison from the same vine Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time Hidin' all of our sins from the daylight From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

I picked this song for the ending because if I did write a full story with Wesley the ending would be rather sad, and he would most likely regret the choices he picked, and I get that feeling from this song.

Well, that is all for Wesley I plan on doing Vorn next and When I do I will re-post this post with his as well. Thank you for the tag again @vestigialpersonality this was really fun and also hard for me lol

6 Songs - Garrett

I was tagged a few days ago by @dandelion-bride for the 6 Song Ask Game.

So meet Garrett, a human(?) sorlock. I don't typically write about him directly, he's more of a figure who haunts my Durge's past and present. I typically associate him with folkpunk. He'd hate my choices and be mad that I didn't pick out Wagner or Debussy.

Picrew here

I've also done these for The Inevitable Pre-Tadpole (Keres) and Post Tadpole (Rune).

Tagging @vialae @theameba1436 @picathartidae @pantsbutfancy @magmethius and anyone else who is interested

1) An event that defines your character's past

Haunting by The Pogues

For weeks and weeks after, with nerves a disaster Nowhere near that road would I go And from dusk through the night, I would shake with the fright Of the tree that had haunted me so

Flamerule 1477. The lyrics themselves aren't directly correlated to the events themselves, its more about the way that it's written like someone telling a story in a bar about a single terrifying moment that irrevocably changed them as a person. The exact same events when viewed from another perspective would be encapsulated by Mitternacht by E Nomine and is a fic I'm slowly writing.

2) How your character sees themselves

Wonderlust King by Gogol Bordello

I traveled the world Looking for understanding Of the times that we live in Hunting and gathering first-hand information Challenging definitions of sin

Always moving, never staying in one place. Question everything. Find the answers to lost questions. Another apt one would be Michael Martin Murphy's version of Streets of Laredo, if you view him as both the dying cowboy and the man listening to the cowboy's story.

3) How others view them

Selfish Man by Flogging Molly

Walk around me, not before me I'll pretend not to ignore you But I'll compromise if I realize You can do something for me

Admittedly, he probably views himself this way too. He's very self aware.

4) Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic)

Fairytail of New York by The Pogues

Anyone familiar with this song: "Ooooooh. 😐"

Garrett is married, but estranged is putting it politely. Posting a lyrics version of the song instead of just a snippet because the transformation of sentiments is why I picked a Christmas song to define his marriage. The lyrics take a drastic shift at 2:14.

5) A major fight scene I'm choosing to interpret this as his personal boss fight music.

Rose Tattoo by The Dropkick Murphys

A ship that always stays the course An anchor for my every choice A rose that shines down from above I signed and sealed these words in blood

I'm taking a more ominous interpretation of the lyrics. Instead of reminders about treasured memories, when in relation to Garrett it's more of a threat that he will not forget and he will not forgive.

6) End credits song

The Hand You Reach Out Is Empty (As Is Mine) by Ramshackle Glory

We're egalitarians with empty hands Is it justice to split up the dust? We are damned and we'll never earn trust And so we'll betray everything that we can

This was the first song I added to his playlist. Everything about this song encapsulates him perfectly.

[hela-avenger]

poison & wine- part 32

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1482

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N: Thanks for your comments, everyone! The last update certainly brought the drama and I know I broke some hearts but it will be resolved! I promise! Only three parts left! With some bonus scenes too! 

poison & wine masterlist

Loki had told you to leave. In fact, he yelled at you to leave. As if you had been a hindrance to him and perhaps you are for having convinced him to continue with the lie to this exact point. 

You’re stupid. 

Incredibly stupid to have thought that this could ever work. 

Loki did not love you. Maybe he cared, but he did not love you. You mistook his friendliness for love and now you were suffering the consequences.

You’re humiliated and worst of all you’re alone in a random hallway of the palace far away from the home that you know and love. A home that hadn’t made you suffer like your time spent in Asgard. 

Yes, you’re a half-breed, a demi-god, a girl split between two realms.

You’re also an orphan. A traveler with no sense of direction. A flower with no roots. 

Most importantly, you’re a heartbroken fool who thought that a royal prince could ever find you worthy of his love. 

You didn’t know where to go. You don’t know where you were meant to go. You were too focused on trying to keep the tears at bay to formulate a plan at the moment. All you desired at the moment was to leave this realm once and for all and forget everything that’s happened here.  

So why not? Why not leave the realm once and for all? It was what Loki desired just a day ago and for good reason. He had tried to spare you the heartbreak and you had still asked for it. 

You pick up your silk skirt once again and start to run. 

You somehow manage to find yourself back at the royal stables but any luck you had, which was not much to begin with in the first place, is all gone as the Lady Sif looks up at you in clear surprise.

“What are you doing here?” you ask. “Shouldn’t you be at the celebration like everyone else?”  

“Someone has to keep guard,” she answers before glancing at your gown. “What’s your excuse? Isn’t it for your honor?”

You don’t know how to respond. You may be upset but you weren’t ready to let all your feelings out to the first person you found. Especially to someone who showed her clear distaste to the man you loved. 

“I had to get out of there,” you answer. “I just… It’s not what it turned out to be.” 

“So you came to the stables?” she asks, confused. 

Your impromptu plan was falling apart all because of a nosy knight. 

“Look, I just came for a ride so if you don’t mind…” 

You try to move past her but she’s quick to catch your arm. 

“You’re very upset,” she notes. “What did Loki do?” 

“Why do you think he had something to do with this?” 

“Because I know him.” 

“Well, it’s clear that you don’t,” you argue. “He… He did nothing. This was all me.” 

You let out a sigh knowing you wouldn’t get anywhere without revealing the truth. 

“I fell in love with him, and he didn’t,” you confess. “My heartbreak is my own to blame.” 

Surprisingly, Sif relents and lets you go. 

“I understand,” she whispers. “The princes have a certain allure, don’t they?” 

It takes you a second to realize who she’s referring to.

“Oh,” you answer. “You and…” 

“Yes, and we don’t have to speak about it,” Sif remarks sharply before softening. “I’m sure you don’t.” 

“I don’t,” you agree. “But I love him and he doesn’t which is why I can’t be here anymore. I have to get out of here.” 

“So where do you wish to go?” Sif asks as she pulls her horse out of the stable. “I’ll take you.” 

“The Bifrost,” you state ignoring her obvious surprise. “I wish to go home.” 

The moment you left the royal hall, Loki turned to his enraged father. He did not dare to offer an explanation until you were far enough away from the scene. Loki hated himself for having to raise his voice at you but it was better than the alternative. You didn’t deserve to be caught in the aftermath of his lie. You didn’t deserve to be hated by Asgard and incur Odin’s wrath because of him. 

“Tell the musicians to start,” Loki orders the nearby servant as he hands the case holding the apple for him to take. “And keep the guests away from the throne room.” 

With that order done, Loki turns to his silent and angry Odin. 

“My father and I wish to discuss in private.” 

Odin refrains from snapping at him as Frigga comes into his vision. Just a gentle touch from his wife seems to bring him back from the brink of disaster and allows for Odin to be led into the nearby throne room without uttering a word.

“Now, son,” Frigga begins calmly. “Please explain to us why you’ve caused such disruption on a day like this?”

Loki looked between his mother and Odin unsure of how to speak the truth he had evaded and ignored for so long. 

“I lied,” Loki states simply. “I’ve been lying to you this whole time. The courtship and now this engagement…” 

Loki pauses and looks at Odin with a sigh. 

“You were right,” he whispers. “I made a deal with her to fake a courtship with me and she accepted.”

He can’t help but laugh now, bitterly. It drove him mad trying to figure out when things had suddenly gone wrong. At what moment were fake emotions became real and true. 

“And now… Now, things have become such a mess,” Loki exhales as his dark humor fades away. “Such a mess and I have no idea how to fix it because I love her. I love her with my entire being and she doesn’t even know. She doesn’t know that I would follow her till the end of the universe if it meant I could be by her side always.” 

Loki turns away from them, his hands shaking, and he doesn’t know why he's confessed more than he had to. 

“I love her,” Loki whispers. “And because I love her, I couldn’t force her to take a bite from the Apple of Idunn. She already detests time for having taken her away from her family, a home, and… love. How could I let her take a bite of that apple when it is the last thing she wishes for herself?”

“It was not your decision to make…” 

Loki is surprised by this calm response from Odin prompting him to turn around to finally face him. His father’s wrath was gone, replaced by gentle understanding. As if the patient wisdom that Odin’s always described with finally made itself known in Loki’s presence. 

“The gift I offered was for the Lady Y/N,” Odin continues. “She should have been the one to accept or reject it, not you.” 

Loki opens his mouth to argue but Odin raises his hand to stop him before he could even utter a word. 

“No, no, it’s time for you to listen to me now,” Odin interrupts him. “I’ve known all along the game you were playing, Loki. The timing of it all was too convenient to be true, but the lies and stories you wove to explain it all were convincing. They were convincing because in brief moments of clarity you two were speaking the utmost truth about the way you perceived and felt for each other.” 

Odin glances over to Frigga who offers him a small smile. 

“When I spoke to Lady Y/N after the incident of your tournament match, a tactic I hoped to unveil the trickery you were pulling, she met me strong and unafraid. She further revealed the loyalty and trust she held for you as she defended you quite strongly.” 

“I already know this,” Loki tells him. 

“I know you do, but what you don’t know is what she told me afterward.” 

Loki waits for Odin to tell him but the Allfather remains silent. 

“What? What did she tell you?” 

“That, my son, is something you will have to hear from her,” Odin answers with a hidden smile. “I have spoken more than enough on her behalf. I believe it is time you have an audience with her. Tell her how you feel and allow her to do the same.” 

Loki doesn’t trust Odin’s genuineness in the situation but a glance to his mother reveals that he should as Frigga nods for him to go. 

“We will make excuses for you and Y/N’s absence in the hall,” Frigga tells him. “Go after her!” 

Loki doesn’t need to be told twice as he quickly runs out of the throne room in search of you. There were many places you could be hiding in, but Loki doesn’t get the chance to look at any of them as a flashing of lights on the horizon catches his attention. 

The Bifrost. 

You were already gone.

poison & wine tag: @damalseer @just-the-hiddles @jessiejunebug @nonsensicalobsessions @smollest-soybean @assassinoftheworld @readerbandit @doyoufeelikeayounggod @strangemcuvlogs @ha-tep @i-dont-know-eiither @gene-king @day-dreaming-fox @bn-studies @is-it-madness @devilbat @victor-criss-bish @skinny-macncheese @musicconversedance @baby-bunnyxn @fandoms-allovertheplace @marvelloonie @jinxjinxednova @queenmuahaha @accio-boys @eternalqueensworld @umlvk @roger-the-reindeer @punkrockhufflefluff @your-local-abyss @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals​ @rogerrhqpsody @imsad420 @pandacookieowo @justnerdystuffs @hanoi15​ @oneprolificqueen​ @nikki-who-likes-coffee​ @fandomrelative​ @nikki419ninja​ @onedollarduck​ @help-i-need-a-social-life​​ @ephemeraljade​ @catsladen @amwolowicz​ @captainmarvelnerd​ @thegirlbeyondtheuniverse​

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-njorddottir @aoirohi​ @defunctcherrybomb​

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie​ @moonlightprime

[jennathearcher]

the sparks of the friendly fire: a playlist in four parts for my house of the dragon inspired original character, jacaera targaryen, daughter of rhaenyra, twin sister of jacaerys, and intended betrothed to aemond targaryen 

chapter i: in flames i sleep soundly

1. king and lionheart - of monsters and men 2. bad blood - bastille 3. the last of the real ones - fall out boy 4. light of the seven - ramin djawadi 5. fate of the kingdoms - ramin djawadi 6. scars - i prevail 7. lament - ramin djawadi 8. feast of starlight - howard shore 9. throne - bring me the horizon 10. wedding song - yeah yeah yeahs 

chapter ii: i’ll keep your brittle heart warm

11. peace - taylor swift 12. it’s always summer under the sea - karliene 13. blood // water - grandson 14. the politics & the life - daniel pemberton & gareth williams 15. dark doo wop - ms mr 16. princesses don’t cry - carys 17. blind - placebo 18. woman king - iron & wine 19. mother’s daughter - miley cyrus 20. i see fire - ed sheeran 

chapter iii: a woman is a changeling

21. what could have been - sting ft. ray chen 22. the prince that was promised - ramin djawadi 23. aemond rides vhagar - ramin djawadi 24. iko iko - the dixie cups 25. impossible - exit eden 26. mama - my chemical romance 27. run on - jamie bower ft. king sugar 28. king - florence + the machine 29. the crown of jaehaerys - ramin djawadi 30. nothing else matters - ramin djawadi 

chapter iv: this is how we’ll dance 

31. the poison - the all-american rejects 32. princess of china - coldplay & rihanna 33. dinner & diatribes - hozier 34. leave out all the rest - linkin park 35. the chain - evanescence 36. if i burn - emilie autumn 37. let the flames begin - paramore 38. dance of dragons - ramin djawadi 39. you should see me in a crown - billie eilish 40. army of me - the great discord 41. empire - beth crowley 42. battle cry - imagine dragons 43. the royal we - silversun pickups 44. dragonstone - ramin djawadi 45. dracarys - ramin djawadi

[listen]

[leafdrake-haven]

any of your ocs that might want to answer: 13, 8, 32, 25, 63, 94

8. What are your character’s most valuable items?

Ooo fun and tricky!

Elrick has a few items from his time on Fiora that have deep sentimental value to him. One is a locket that used to belong to his mother. A bright, white gold oval with intricate plant carvings decorating the outside even set with a a few tiny gemstones. Enchanted to be extra sturdy. He took the old picture out of his family and keeps it safe. He has since added a picture of him, Rhynn, and Myree together and he has gifted this to Rhynn. Rhynn values it deeply and wears it frequently except when she knows she’ll be doing any rough work with creatures (she knows the enchantments on it would keep it from breaking but she still doesn’t like to risk it). Elrick also has a small, exquisitely-crafted dagger that used to belong to his father. The wooden part of the hilt has his family crest carved into it and a couple of secret compartments that can fit just a tiny, couple drop vials of either poisons or antidotes. This he has gifted to Myree. He realized he hadn’t been teaching her enough self defense so he had her try a few beginner weapons/techniques and he realized she actually has a natural knack for dagger/knife work so while it started off as just a small weapon she could train with it actually become something she was pretty good at and made her feel comfortable. Once she proved she was responsible enough to carry a dagger with her, that is when he gifted it to her. As far as right now, he’d say his two most valuable items are an extremely fancy bottle of Therosian wine that Rhynn stole for him on her first planeswalk away from Ravnica and a little, barely functioning clockwork mouse that was Myree’s first attempt at making an artifact creature (she will eventually be both mortified and more than a little touched that he still has it).

13. What is the worst thing your character has ever done? According to them and according to you.

Oh this one is juicy.

Ok the worse thing I think Elrick has ever done was when he was still in his ‘I hate and don’t care for anything or anyone and the multiverse owes me’ oldwalker phase. He did a lot of callous, cruel, and sinister things during this time, but I think the worst was when he was truly experimenting the extent of different poisons. He did this on a few different planes that had especially potent or unique poisons but he did it the most on Tarkir with the Silumgar. He would experiment on different humanoids with different poisons, giving them different amounts to see how their bodies would react and seeing how he could reverse the effects. So essentially poisoning, healing, re-poisoning, re-healing etc. until the subject was eventually pushed too far (but hey that was data too). A very tortuous thing to do and in present day he does feel horribly guilty for the way he did it, but he can’t get himself to regret it because of the large amount of valuable knowledge he gained from it. He is probably one of the most accomplished poison mages in the multiverse with the ability to recognize, neutralize, cure, reverse most, even obscure, poisons and venoms. As well as recreate a lot of them.

The worst thing HE thinks he’s done is a three-way tie. One: Freshly after losing his spark when he was hurt and angry he thought about abandoning baby Myree (obviously he didn’t). Two: When Rhynn first came into his life after her spark he just let her stay with him for 1. Cheap labor and 2. There was a part of him that wanted to see if he could get her spark for himself. Three: There was a time he fucked up bad enough that it made Rhynn cry and leave Ravnica for a few days and he thought she might never come back AND at the same time made Myree also cry and tell him that she hated him (I actually have a little angsty bit of this written out but was saving it for when I had a little more context for everyones’ relationships but if the folks want see it early you can hit me up for the angst 👀).

25. How much of physical and athletic abilities does your character currently have?

Now I’m debating if I wanna keep it all Elrick or mix it up xD

Ok I’m sticking with our grumpy elf man. Elrick is pretty fit and in shape! He regularly practicing fencing, as a rapier is is preferred non-magic weapon, but he likes to keep a variety up so he does practice other sword types as well as dagger-work. Now you can also use those to help train Rhynn and Myree as well. He also has a decent amount of strength and endurance from his near constant work maintaining his extensive gardens and working in his shop. I could also see him working on his dexterity, flexibility, and mental relaxation by doing a mtg equivalent of yoga and/or tai chi. In typical elf stereotype he is lithe with lean muscle but his strength often surprises people who aren’t expecting it.

32. What is your character’s hygiene like?

Impeccable. While he is a gardener (and necromancer) and not at all afraid to get his hands dirty, metaphorically and literally, he much prefers to be neat and tidy. Scrubbing up after a gardening or fencing session is one of his favorite parts. He likes feeling fresh and his clothes, bedding, and house are always a priority for him to keep clean. He also really enjoys being well-groomed and smelling good. He is almost always clean-shaven and his long, golden-blond hair is usually tied back in intricate braids.

63. Is there a fan character from another person that you would like them to meet? Who?

This one is tricky cause I always think it’s fun in theory and then I’m not very good at collabing xD Elrick does know a couple of @connoissuer-of-fine-vines fanwalkers, notably Ayden who is one of Rhynn’s best friends (and whom he has a, uh rocky relationship with. At least to start out xD) I think he could also be friends with Carrine if he let himself be friends with anyone. Speaking of that it’s also tricky because who he is currently is very stand-offish and avoiding meeting new people (except for the various people Rhynn and eventually Myree bring around and he’s forced to interact with and then slowly starts mentally adopting even if outwardly he tries to not change his grumpy exterior). I do think it would be fascinating how he would interact with @niuttuc ‘s Nyrhen but I’m pretty sure that would end with them trying to kill each other xD I do think he’d be bemused by interacting with Mollycap

94. Are they more comfortable in cities or in the wilds?

Between the two, Elrick is definitely more comfortable in cities. He spent most of his childhood as a pampered noble’s son in Fiora playing the great game of politics. Given his own choice though he would like a space somewhere in between. He does not prefer camping per se but he does enjoy a bit of nature after all his travelings.

Thanks for the asks which turned into, let’s explore Elrick!

[lilyoffandoms]

Choices Masterlist I

Please be aware of warnings and tags on individual fics before reading. Some contain tw and cw and others are nsft. Be responsible for your space and well being please.

Complete Masterlist here.

Fics are divided by book and then character and beneath each character are listed oldest to newest. Second masterlist with newer fics can be found here.

Random/Multiple Pairing Drabbles

Four Birthday Drabbles for @storyofmychoices

Drabble & Drabbles

Drabble (Bryce Lahela x Olivia Nevrakis)

Blades of Light and Shadow Masterlist

A Courtesan of Rome

The Greatest Gift (Arin x Syphax)

Crimes of Passion

Trystan Thorne

Wine We Drink (Trystan x Gabriel)

To Be (Trystan x Gabriel)

Plus One (Trystan x Gabriel)

You Have No Idea (Trystan x Gabriel)

Awkward (Trystan x Gabriel)

Right (Trystan x Gabriel)

Others

Fishing Expedition (Gabriel & Olivia)

Desire and Decorum

Prince Hamid

Cupcakes (Hamid x Daphne) for @lorirwritesfanfic

Drabble (Hamid x Daphne) for @lorirwritesfanfic

Drabble (Ernest x Hayley) for @missameliep

Distant Shores

Edward Mortemer

Tall Tales (Edward x William & children)

Good Morning, Captain (Edward x William)

Future Meet Past (Edward x William)

Just A Day (Edward x William)

Maggie

Thank Ye, Good Sir (Maggie & William)

Charlie Smith

Hullo, Love (Charlie x Vimala) for Sam

Oliver Cochrane

Lieutenant’s Scar (Edward x Oliver)

And She… (Oliver x Monika) for @hopevampire

The Elementalists

Beckett Harrington

Study Session (Beckett x Eli)

Griffin Langley

Drabble (Griffin x Eli)

Foreign Affairs

Tatum Mendoza

As You Wish (Tatum x Aubrey)

Scrapbook (Tatum x Aubrey)

Hero

Understanding (Grayson x Breccan)

Home for the Holidays

Nick Perelta

Snowman (Nick x Scarlet)

Mother of the Year

Levi Schuler

Not Much (Levi x Laura and Lily) for @storyofmychoices

Thomas Mendez

Breakfast (Thomas x mc & girls) for @clanlahela

The Nanny Affair

Sam Dalton

Dinner Time (Sam x Emma & boys) for @peonierose

Tell All POV (Sam x Emma) for @peonierose

Nightbound

King Cake (Nik x Alex) for @ladylamrian

Home (Cal x Vera x Mariposa)

Cereal (Nik x Mariposa)

Open Heart

Dr. Ethan Ramsey

Ethan x Merida

NICU POVs (Ethan x Merida)

Dog Days of Summer (Ethan x Merida)

Drabble (Ethan x mc) for @laniqueloves

#46 ( Ethan x mc)

Mixed Signals (Ethan x Merida)

Sunset (Ethan x Ellie) for @storyofmychoices

Dr. Bryce Lahela

Birthday Cake (Sienna, Bryce, and Merida) for @storyofmychoices

Moments Like These (Bryce x Lizzy)

To Be (Bryce x Olivia & Merida & gang) for @storyofmychoices

Anywhere’s A Dance Floor (Byrce x Merida)

Others

Our Story Part I, Part II (Bryce x Harper)

Red Carpet Diaries

Thomas Hunt

Margarita Man (Thomas x Ava)

How to Kiss (Thomas x Stephanie) for @hopelessromantic1352

Dragons (Thomas x Alex & Vincent & Felicity) for @storyofmychoices

The Metro (Thomas x Alex) for @storyofmychoices​

Tea (Thomas x Ava)

Early Morning Sounds (Thomas x Alex & twins) for @storyofmychoices

Others

Milk and Cookies (Chadley & Gloria)

Ride Or Die

Colt Kaneko

Punishment (Colt x Ellie)

Not To Be (Freya x Colt) for @nessverse

Usual Weapon (Colt x Ellie) for @nessverse

Wanna Bet (Colt x Ellie)

Opposites (Colt x mc)

Jealous Love (Colt x mc)

I’ll Drive (colt x mc)

Take Out’s Here (Colt x mc)

Poisoned Memories - Colt x mc

Charmed Polaris - Colt x mc

Empty Apartment - Colt x mc

I Know - Colt x mc

#17 - Colt x mc

Logan

Delicious Fun (Freya x Logan) for @nessverse

Logan x mc

Games (Logan x Freya) for @nessverse

Fates - Logan x mc

Charmed Meteor (Logan x mc)

4 Yrs. 2 Mo. 5 D. 16 Hrs. 23 Min. (Logan x mc)

Love Letter (Logan x mc)

Logan x Colt

Sweeter Things (Logan x Colt)

#18 (Logan x Colt)

Mona

Time Immortal (Mona x mc)

Charmed Heartbeats (Mona x mc)

Home (Mona x mc)

Messy Hair (Mona x mc)

Others

Peter Parker (gang)

Prom Dress (Riya & mc)

The Royal [Everything]

Gang

Ice Cream Sandwich Competition (TRR gang)

Kayden Vescovi

Kayden by @molliartsie

Olivia Nevrakis

Whiskey (Olivia)

New York (Olivia x Amalas)

“Liam” Rys

#32 (Liam x mc)

Pi Day (Liam x Riley)

Others

Love & Hate (Liam x Riley & Drake x Riley) for @moodmusicmonday

Veil of Secret

Grant Emmerson

Candy Store (Grant x Cian)

Dessert (Grant x Cian) for VoSAW

Flynn O’Malley

Ocean Stroll (Flynn x Cian)

Lucky (Flynn x Cian)

Kate O’Malley

Forever (Kate x Cian)

Naomi Silverhawk

#1 (Naomi x mc)

Cozy (Naomi x Cian)

[krenenbaker]

Songs I would show the Ghosts

These are all songs from my Spotify likes that I think the ghosts of Button House would enjoy, with 6 songs for each ghost. I made a playlist of the songs here, if you want to listen along! :)

(Also note: this is for the main group of ghosts, so none of the plague ghosts or Jemima are included - I just don't think we know enough about them!

Robin

Robin would listen to music based on ~vibes~, and he would also like songs about things he finds personally important. He would probably like some folk and rock songs, as well as a smattering of other genres if the energy is right.

Bad Moon Rising - Creedence Clearwater Revival

Space is Cool - Markiplier and The Gregory Brothers

Sole Survivor - Blue Öyster Cult

The Joker - Steve Miller Band

Things That Make it Warm - Cavetown

You Make Loving Fun - Fleetwood Mac

Humphrey

Humphrey's taste in music seems as though it would be a little eclectic: he would probably like music that either is good for listening, or good for singing along (which I imagine he would really like doing!). I also think he would like songs that have a longer duration more than some of the others.

Goodbye and Hello - Tim Buckley

Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd

Pneuma - TOOL

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road - Elton John

Poison and Wine - The Civil Wars

Joy to the World - Three Dog Night

Mary

Mary would like some somewhat weird music, and also songs with lyrics she finds relatable. I don't think she would stick to one specific genre or artist, but I feel that a lot of indie artists would make music Mary would like :)

Viva la Pappa col Pomodoro - Rita Pavone

Locket - Crumb

strawberries - Honeyuck

Green - Kera and the Lesbians

Ready Now - dodie

Dante's Prayer - Lorena McKennitt

Kitty

We've already had a little taste of the music that Kitty likes, but she would LOVE super upbeat pop music, and she would probably adore Taylor Swift's entire discography. She also is canonically a huge musical theatre fan!

space girl - Frances Forever

Girlfriend - Icona Pop

You Can't Stop the Beat - Hairspray soundtrack

My Favourite Things - Julie Andrews

Fearless - Taylor Swift

Love Story - Taylor Swift

Thomas

Like Kitty, we have had a small taste of what Thomas' taste in music is. However, I also think he would really like other dramatic and/or romantic music, including pop punk / emo music.

There's a Good Reason These Tables are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Thought of it Yet - Panic! At the Disco

As the World Caves in - Matt Maltese

Can't Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon

I Only Want To Be With You - Dusty Springfield

Heart of Glass - Blondie

Madam, I Love your Crepes Suzette - Danny Kaye

Fanny

Fanny would absolutely bemoan modern music, praising music from her time and before as the only "proper music". However, she would secretly love some pop music, and possibly even riot grrrl punk. She'd also like Dolly Parton, I'm quite certain of that.

Clair de Lune, L. 32 - Claude Debussy

Dance Macabre, Op. 40, R. 171 - Camille Saint-Saëns

Be Yr Mama - Sleater-Kinney

Second Skin - The Gits

Monster - dodie

Dumb Blonde - Dolly Parton

The Captain

The Captain would also claim to be not a fan of music after the time of his death, and I think that would actually be the case for the most part. However, he also canonically likes songs from some musicals, and I think he'd also like songs with lyrics he finds to be relatable. He also seems as though he would enjoy some rather introspective music, like a lot of Hozier's songs.

For Me and My Gal - Judy Garland

Oscar Wilde Gets Out - Elton John

Like Real People Do - Hozier

Wasteland, Baby! - Hozier

They Can't Take That Away From Me - Mel Tormé

Younger Than Springtime - South Pacific (especially the William Tabbert version)

Pat

Pat would probably most like music from around his time of death, and a bit before, though he would also like some upbeat pop music like Kitty, as well as anything that could be a group sing along or has a story. He is another ghost that is shown in the show as liking musicals, so musical theatre songs would also be of interest

Big Yellow Taxi - Joni Mitchell

The Rattlin' Bog - Seamus Kennedy

Any Way You Want It - Journey

Time Warp - Rock Horror Picture Show soundtrack

Brandy (You're a Fine Girl) - Looking Glass

(The Man Who Shot) Liberty Valance - Gene Pitney

Julian

Julian's taste in music would mostly be from around his time of death or prior to it as well, but he would also probably like listening to anything else that was a little bit raucous or naughty. I also think that he may have listened to quite a bit of punk music when he was young for some reason, so I've put that in too.

Cat's in the Cradle - Harry Chapin

One Week - The Barenaked Ladies

Holidays in the Sun - Sex Pistols

Crazy On You - Heart

Holy - King Princess

The Night Pat Murphy Died - Great Big Sea

[fluxweedstem]

Great Big List of Possible Muggle Hobbies for Snape (with some explanations):

1) Calligraphy/Lettering - he was trying to improve his penmanship, but he just likes being able to do multiple different styles

2) Geocaching - he found a box while foraging the nearest park and went looking for more

3) Ceramics or glass blowing - he can make himself special vials/jars

4) Piano - he's got the hands for it and can sort of meditate on pieces he knows; he doesn't own one, so he has to go somewhere that has one

5) Collecting Vinyls - Lily's gifted him some as a teen; he likes looking at the cover art more than listening to them (Lily liked to listen more than he did)

6) Wine n' Cheese Tasting - let this man have some wine and fancy cheeses

7) Home Brewing - it's not that far off from potions and he could sell home-brews; he gets to experiment

8) Chess - Lucius gifted him a chess set

9) Constructed languages - for secret messages with Lily before the fallout

10) Meditation - part of Occlumency

11) Going to the Theater (plays) - it's just nice to go see the arts sometimes

12) Improv or Acting - it sharpens the mind and helps him think on his feet while talking and controlling his body movements/reactions

13) Trivia - gets to show off knowing things

14) Puzzles - mind work-out

15) Read and/or Book club - we always tie books to Snape; he gets to argue about books with people who want to argue about books

16) Science Experiments - it's very close to potions; how can Snape not enjoy some chemistry?

17) Soap-making - saves money if it's cheap soap, but also he can make it scented a certain way and probably put potions in it

18) Candle-making - saves money on electricity if it's cheap candles, but also atmosphere and (again) can probably put potions in it

19) Sowing - for repairing clothes when you can't use magic

20) Urban foraging - picked this up as a kid

21) Antiquing/Thrift-shopping - this is just from being pragmatic with his savings

22) Urban gardening - food and potion ingredients

23) Billiards or Darts - picked this up at a summer job

24) Poker - also picked this up at a summer job; very good at Poker

25) Slight of Hand Tricks - I just feel like he'd enjoy it and it'd be good for spy tasks

26) Wood carving - sometimes he just wants to meditate and have a temporary rune to show for it, but also we know how good Snape is with knives

27) Mixology - there is a pattern of picking things up at summer jobs

28) Survivalist prepping (not Doomsday Prepping) - picked this up from plans of running away from home that never came to fruition; just useful as a spy

29) Home Cigarette rolling - for those of us that like to have Snape smoke; he understands Herbology for potions, so he could make his own cigarette blends

30) Visiting Botanical Gardens - lets him look at plants; I feel like he'd like that Poison Garden in the UK

31) Nature Still Life Sketching - from drawing potion ingredients

32) Star-gazing - he used to do it during Astronomy once he finished his work, but also it's helps with de-compressing after stress

33) Flower-pressing - part of the wandering around in the forest looking for potion ingredients

34) Writing - specifically writing letters to Editors

these are all SO great, anon!!! thank you for sharing!

[yellowbadgergirl]

I posted 1.686 times in 2021

81 posts created (5%)

1605 posts reblogged (95%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 19.8 posts.

I added 869 tags in 2021

#spn - 189 posts

#spn fic - 144 posts

#mcu - 107 posts

#incorrect quotes - 106 posts

#dw - 67 posts

#dean winchester x reader - 62 posts

#tvd - 55 posts

#about me - 54 posts

#hp - 51 posts

#whouffle - 34 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#while a girl just killed herself because she was raped and abused by group of teens that filmed it and were blackmailing her

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

KALIJAH; Elijah Mikaelson & Katherine Pierce

say something // poison and wine // under // stay

21 notes • Posted 2021-03-07 23:34:36 GMT

#4

Fan: What was your favorite part in Captain America?

Sebastian: I really liked the...

Audiance: ...

Sebastian: You know where we meet the Doctor Who girl.

22 notes • Posted 2021-04-15 23:39:07 GMT

#3

10 Fandoms, 10 Ships, 10 Tags

I saw this & I wanna do this!

Supernatural  -  suby (Sam&Ruby) 

The vampire diaries  -  kalijah  (Katherine&Elijah)

Glee  -  finchel   (Finn&Rachel)

Doctor who  -  whouffle  (11th doctor&Clara)

Harry Potter  -  remadora  (Remus&Tonks)

Twilight  -  blackwater  (Jacob&Leah)

X-men  -  beastique  (Hank&Raven)

Avengers  -  staron  (Steve&Sharon)

One tree hill  -  leyton   (Lucas&Peyton)

Avatar: the last airbender  -  sukka  (Sukki&Sokka)

I tag @freedom  @mizutoyama  @ancient-ideas  @ladyelise01  @marzipan-albatross  @gasstationangel  @s-ammie  @spnxreaderx  @fanfictalk  @a-veryshort-longbottom  

23 notes • Posted 2021-03-10 03:54:37 GMT

#2

10 Fandoms, 10 Characters, 10 Tags

I saw this and I wanna do it! 

Harry Potter  -  Nymphadora Tonks

Doctor Who  -  Clara Oswald

Glee  -  Santana Lopez

The Vampire Diaries  -  Katherine Pierce

Avengers  -  Black Widow

Twilight  -  Leah Cleatwater

Supernatural  -  Sam Winchester

X-men  -  Mystique

Avatar: the last airbender  -  Sokka

Youtube  -  ThatcherJoe

I tag @mizutoyama  @lunalovegood2  @ancient-ideas  @freedom  @s-ammie  @comfortcharacterlove  @queenofdreamland  @witchygagirl  @darkangel-painter  @sweetxthing 

39 notes • Posted 2021-03-05 20:16:58 GMT

#1

4 song tag game

Tagged by @mizutoyama

Four songs I’ve been listening to today (not in any particular order):

taken - 1D

1985 - Bowling For Soup

dragosati din tei - Dan Balan & Katerina Begu

six - Six the musical

I tag @2020rose  @katlyc  @lunalovegood2  @im-a-cutie-patootie  @blogsamgirlforlife  @s-ammie  @freedom  @agent-up  @number-1-deaf-clint-barton-stan  @ancient-ideas & everyone who wants to do this!

144 notes • Posted 2021-03-05 09:31:32 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[baoshan-sanren]

Chapter 33

of the wwx emperor au I’m thinking of calling “Wei Ying, you’re so stupid”

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Part 1 | Chapter 8 Part 2 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 Part 1 | Chapter 15 Part 2 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 Part 1 | Chapter 22 Part 2 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32

HuaiSang is angry.

Wei Ying passes him the jar as often as possible, hoping that the wine may mellow him out. Three jars later however, Jiang Cheng is leaning slightly sideways even while sitting down, Wei Ying is beginning to see two of everything, but HuaiSang’s anger is still present, an unpleasant fourth addition to their drinking circle.

The fire had been put out; the stench of burning lays heavy over the majority of the Immortal Mountain City, and although Wei Ying had washed up and changed his robes twice, it seems to linger at the back of his throat, bitterly mixing with the sweetness of the wine.

Lan QiRen is unharmed. No one else has been hurt. All in all, for an incident that could have claimed dozens of lives, a small palace burned to the ground is the best possible outcome they could have hoped for.

A-Sang swears. Explicitly.

Wei Ying does not think that fucking the arsonist’s ancestors to the eighteenth generation will do anyone any good, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“I should have doubled his guard,” A-Sang says.

Wei Ying says nothing to this either.  

Two separate traps had been set. They had required time, and planning, and full cooperation by the people in the Immortal Mountain that A-Sang actually trusts. Unfortunately, the number of people A-Sang trusts is limited, and nearly half of them had been to sent to YiLing.

They had given the assassin three targets. Two in the Immortal Mountain, and the Emperor himself, seemingly alone and unprotected in YiLing. The assassin had chosen a fourth target, something that no one could have predicted.

Except that A-Sang believes he should have predicted it, and is furious to have been outmaneuvered.

“Let us sum up what we know,” Wei Ying says.

Jiang Cheng groans, “Not again.”

“Yes, again,” A-Sang says, snatching the jar out of his hands, “We should go over the information we have as many times as necessary. We are obviously missing something.”

Jiang Cheng groans again, and keels over, sprawling on the floor. Unlike Wei Ying, he has not had a chance to wash up or change before being pulled into A-Sang’s chambers. Earlier in the day, A-Sang had stuffed him in the Emperor’s robes to play the bait, but now the robes are singed and filthy, and will likely need to be thrown away.

Wei Ying wonders if this is where the lingering scent of stale smoke is coming from.

“Do we agree that nothing suspicious occurred before the Lan Sect arrived?” A-Sang says.

They have gone over this already, but Wei Ying forces himself to think about it again.

“There was nothing,” Jiang Cheng mutters from the floor.

“Nothing,” Wei Ying agrees firmly, “nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Good,” A-Sang says, “then we start at the beginning. The Lan Sect arrives the night before the first day of the festival. They are escorted into the Immortal Mountain by da-ge. They settle into the Peach Blossom Pavilion. Wei Ying goes to liberate the Six Fans Pavilion of its hidden stash of the Emperor’s Smile. Lan WangJi sees him running across the rooftops, and tries to stab him. A decision I still respect, by the way.”

Jiang Cheng snorts.

“Day one,” A-Sang goes on, “the Greeting Ceremony, during which Wei Ying blatantly ogles Lan WangJi--“

“Hey!” Wei Ying exclaims.

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng says, invisible on the other side of the table, “You did do that.”

“--then the Sect Leader meeting, during which Wei Ying displays obvious favoritism toward the Lan Sect, ensuring that even those sect leaders who had been ambivalent before, now have an entirely new set of reasons to despise them,” A-Sang says.

Wei Ying buries his head in his hands.

“Then the banquet, where Wei Ying singles out Lan WangJi again.”

“I just wanted to talk to him,” Wei Ying groans through his fingers.

“Do not forget the part where Wei WuXian drinks so much that he tries to piss into a potted plant,” Jiang Cheng adds.

Wei Ying snatches the jar out of A-Sang’s hands, “I thought we were talking about suspicious events.”

“He is right,” A-Sang nudges Jiang Cheng with his foot, “the Emperor getting stumbling drunk and trying to piss in inappropriate places is hardly out of the ordinary.”

A snort drifts up from the floor. 

Wei Ying hates them both.

“Day two,” A-Sang goes on, “The picnic. Someone tries to poison Lan WangJi. The Jin Sect tries to pin the poisoning on Lan XiChen. Two servants are killed, their bodies stuffed in the stairway of the old north-west watchtower. No poison is found in their quarters. The sword fighting competition is postponed. Day three. The Immortal Mountain is searched top to bottom. All the servants are questioned. All the sects willingly submit to the search. Nothing suspicious is found. The Council decides it is safe to resume the competition the following day. The Emperor goes pining across the rooftops until Lan WangJi pays attention to him. He tells Lan WangJi that he means to enter the competition in secret. Lan WangJi tells his uncle and brother. The only other people aware of the ruse are A-Cheng, shijie, Wen Qing, and myself.”

“I did not pine,” Wei Ying grumbles.

“Day four,” A-Sang says, ignoring him, “Every sect and clan is present at the competition. The Lan Sect arrives on time, and is placed at the Nie Sect table. Lan XiChen fights da-ge and wins. The Emperor almost gets himself killed because he is too distracted by Lan WangJi to compete properly. An arrow from the West watchtower nearly costs the Empire its most valued subject. The Jin Sect tries to pin the assassination on the Lan Sect, again.”

“That is hardly suspicious,” Jiang Cheng says, hand reaching up to grab the wine jar, “the Jin Sect is terrible by rule.”

“Wait,” Wei Ying says, “wait. While I was competing in the West Gate courtyard I spoke to the little demon from the Nie Sect, Nie XuanYu. He said that only three of the Jin Sect disciples had signed up to compete with the rest of them, but that none had actually shown up.”

Jiang Cheng sits up suddenly, then sways.

“Gossip,” he says, then thinks for a moment, as if gathering his drunken thoughts, “There was gossip among the smaller sects about the Jin being too proud to compete in the bottom four tiers. Yao MingYu was told by one of the Jin disciples that the Jin Sect does not produce below average cultivators.”

Wei Ying snorts, “Bold of them to say that, when Fan XiaoHu keeps wiping the floor with Jin ZiXuan.”

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, “that girl is a menace.”

Wei Ying bites his tongue so he would not laugh. He had forgotten that Fan XiaoHu had wiped the floor with Jiang Cheng a few times too.

A-Sang taps the table with his fan, “Focus! Who has the list? A record must be kept of those who signed up to compete, whether they ended up participating or not.”

“Uncle Jiang should have it,” Wei Ying says, his heart immediately sinking.

He still needs to have a very unpleasant conversation with his High Councilor, one he is definitely not looking forward to having.

“Good,” A-Sang says, “We must get our hands on this list. See? We are making progress. Where are we now? Ah, yes. Day four. The day I was almost killed.”

Wei Ying is pretty sure that he is managing to look sufficiently contrite. Jiang Cheng only looks drunk and disgruntled.

“The Jin Sect tries to blame the assassination attempt on the Lan Sect. Lan QiRen reveals a note warning him to remove the Young Masters from the Immortal Mountain. A note that was placed in the Peach Blossom Pavilion before their arrival. Wei Ying cannot seem to keep away from Lan WangJi, even at the cost of ruining his virtue and good name--“ A-Sang points his fan at Wei Ying’s half-opened mouth, “and I am specifically speaking of  Lan WangJi’s virtue and good name, because Heavens know you have none.”

Jiang Cheng chokes on the wine, adding more stains to the already ruined Imperial robes.

“Anyway,” A-Sang says, snatching the jar back, “this brings us to day five. Which is today.”

Jiang Cheng drops his forehead onto the table, “These have been the longest five days of my life.”

“Hey,” A-Sang snaps, whacking him on the back of the head with his fan, “Has anyone tried to kill you? No? Then stop complaining.”

Jiang Cheng half-heartedly pushes the fan away, but does not lift his head.

“Day five,” A-Sang repeats, “This faithful subject bears the agony of a deadly, grievous wound, obtained in the service to the Emperor, to take control of the situation. Two traps are set in motion. The first is set in the Imperial Gardens, the second in the North Watchtower. If the assassin has connections among the major sects, he should have fallen into the first trap. If he has connections among the smaller sects, he should have fallen into the second. If he has eyes and ears among those we explicitly trust, he should have gone after Wei Ying. But instead, the assassin opts to kill Lan QiRen.”

“So the assassin does not belong to any of the sects,” Wei Ying says, “otherwise, he would have walked into one of the traps.”

“Not true,” A-Sang says, his voice hardening, “it is also possible that the assassin saw three targets as clearly as we had presented them, and having no way to discern which one was real, had simply decided on the fourth. We also now know where his priorities lie. I no longer believe that the purpose of the second assassination attempt was to kill the Emperor. I think it was only meant to frame the Lan Sect for his murder, which would have been a death sentence in itself.”

Jiang Cheng lifts his head, “You think all of this is just-- to kill the Lan Sect? Why? Why would someone go through so much trouble to kill them?”

A-Sang does not have an answer to that.

“Any words from the Wen Sect?” he asks instead, and Wei Ying shakes his head.

His own message had gone out to Wen RuoHan only a day ago; it is much too soon for a response.

He takes the jar back from A-Sang, but finds it empty, and fumbles around for the last full one, still stashed underneath the table.

“Lan QiRen probably hates me even more now,” he grumbles, “I will be lucky if he still allows Lan Zhan to marry me after this debacle.”

The wine tastes less bitter now. He cannot tell if the stench of burning has grown less, or if he is finally too drunk to notice. He offers Jiang Cheng the jar, only to find Jiang Cheng staring at him with a wide, incredulous gaze, devoid of the earlier drunkenness.  

“What?” Wei Ying says.

“Repeat what you just said,” A-Sang says slowly, his voice careful.

Wei Ying blinks at him and thinks back. His head is swimming a little bit, but he is not yet so drunk that he should be speaking nonsense.

“What?”

“Before that,” A-Sang says.

“Lan QiRen hates me? He will probably refuse to--“ Wei Ying chokes slightly, “--Oh. Erm. I-- we did not speak of this yet, have we?”

“You intending to marry?” A-Sang says sweetly, snapping his fan open, “No. It seems you had forgotten to mention that little detail. To me. Your Royal Companion.”

“Or me,” Jiang Cheng growls.  

“Uh, this--” Wei Ying fumbles, “there were-- other things? You were nearly killed! I was-- uh-- distracted?”

“But not too distracted to decide to marry.”

“You have known him for five days!” Jiang Cheng bursts out.

“Hey!” Wei Ying snaps back, “These have been-- very long five days! You said so yourself!”

“Who else knows?” A-Sang asks.

Wei Ying wishes that A-Sang would yell at him. At least then, this may actually be a little less awkward, and he may feel a little less guilty.

“No one,” he says quickly, “only Lan QiRen.”

“Lan WangJi does not know? You have not asked him?”

“No, I-- I thought I should speak to his uncle first. It is the proper thing to do.”

“The proper thing to do,” A-Sang repeats.

“Yes,” Wei Ying says, feeling defensive, “Lan Zhan loves his uncle. If Lan QiRen disapproved, Lan Zhan would never agree.”

“You cannot just-- go around asking people to marry you!” Jiang Cheng exclaims, “You idiot! There are rules! Traditions! People who must be informed ahead of time! The Council--!“

“I am not going to ask the Council for an approval to marry,” Wei Ying snaps, indignant, “Lan Zan is the Second Young Master of the Gusu Lan Sect, not some farmer I picked up in YiLing.”

“He is the Second Young Master of the Gusu Lan Sect!” Jiang Cheng shouts loud enough to make A-Sang flinch, “The Lan Sect! Do not play stupid about this!”

“I am the Emperor!” Wei Ying thunders, “I make the rules and the traditions! The Council exists because I allow it to exist!”  

The empty wine jar flies across the room and shatters on the door frame, making them both flinch.

A-Sang closes his fan.

“Are you both done?” he asks.

Jiang Cheng opens his mouth, but closes it when A-Sang turns to him with raised eyebrows.  

Wei Ying, who knows better, remains quiet.

There is a short, uncomfortable silence, interrupted only by A-Sang’s fan tapping on the table. Finally he sighs.

“We have leverage to use against the Council. Admittedly, I never thought to use it in this way, but it will certainly not be a waste if you are determined to marry him.”

“I am,” Wei Ying says immediately.

Jiang Cheng opens his mouth again, but A-Sang smacks his knuckles with the fan, silencing him, “Shut up. Use your head. If the Emperor marries a Second Young Master of a traitor sect, this sets a precedent. One that you, in particular, might find useful.”

Jiang Cheng splutters, his face turning red.

“Can this wait until we have caught the assassin?” A-Sang asks.

Wei Ying squirms, “I did try to speak to him in YiLing, but I may not have made myself as clear as I should have, so-- if I do not ask him to marry me, he is likely to assume that I do not have honorable intentions. Towards him. In the future.”

“You are so stupid,” Jiang Cheng mutters, squeezing his eyes shut.

“A-Cheng is right,” A-Sang says, “You have been very stupid about this. You should have come to me first, before talking to Lan QiRen.”

“In my defense,” Wei Ying says, “I did not plan to speak to Lan QiRen when I did, it just-- happened.”

Jiang Cheng groans, turning to A-Sang, “How is he the Emperor? How?”

“The Heavens watch out for the idiots, because the rest of us can watch out for ourselves,” A-Sang says promptly.

“Okay,” Wei Ying says, “Okay. Can we, just-- move past this?”

“No,” A-Sang says, “I am fairly certain that we will speak of nothing else but your stupidity for the remainder of the night.”

“Fine,” Wei Ying says, getting up, “I am going to find Lan Zhan. You know, the man I am going to marry. Who does not think I am stupid.”

“Would you like to place a wager on that?” Jiang Cheng mutters, and A-Sang smacks his knuckles again.

“I want the list of the Jin Sect disciples first thing in the morning,” A-Sang reminds him.

Wei Ying flaps his hand in acknowledgment. He is a little unsteady, but manages to find the door without too much fumbling.

Jiang Cheng’s voice follows him out, “Try and not piss in any flower pots!”

[three--rings]

MDZS/GDC Chapter Summaries

So back...a while ago I made a post about things MDZS fandom really needs.  And from that post someone made a fantastic Guide to Chinese/pinyin terms.  And now I have my own contribution, a list of every chapter of the Mo Dao Zu Shi/Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation novel along with summaries of what happens when.  

Because I know as a writer I often want to look at a particular scene in canon to refresh my memory or check something, but it’s nearly impossible to remember what happens when due to the different chronologies in each version of the story.

So I spent the last couple weeks listening to the audio drama and skimming the novel and making notes.  Hopefully they are useful and understandable to more than just myself, but you can definitely see my prejudices.  Like entire chapters where it’s basically just “people talk...plot”  versus deep detail on Wangxian scenes.  Anyway, here it is, I hope it helps.

1: Prologue – Short description of WWX’s death and 13 years after. 2: Reincarnation – WWX comes back in MXY’s body 3: Aggression Part 1 – WWX meets Lan disciples, Madame Mo, checks out some flags 4: Aggression Part 2 – Mo ZiYuan dies, so do some other people 5: Aggression Part 3 – WWX figures it out, raises some corpses, LWJ arrives, WWX steals a donkey 6: Arrogance Part 1 – WWX arrives at Dafan mountain, hears about people who lost their souls 7: Arrogance Part 2 – Meets Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng, and then Lan Sect arrives 8: Arrogance Part 3 – Backstory of everyone, WWX sees ghost and learns about goddess temple 9: Arrogance Part 4 – Goddess temple, statue comes to life, WWX summons Wen Ning 10: Arrogance Part 5 – WWX plays flute for Wen Ning, LWJ grabs him, Jiang Cheng uses zidian, LWJ claims WWX

11: Refinement Part 1 – Cloud Recesses entry, meet LXC, see LWJ in spring 12: Refinement Part 2 – Running from spring, joining LWJ in bed, frozen on top of him 13: Refinement Part 3- FLASHBACK – coming to Gusu as student, sneaking over the wall and caught by LWJ, class with LQR 14: Refinement part 4 – Thrown out of class, JC and NHS talking, caught cheating and has to copy 15: Refinement part 5- WWX and LWJ in library—porn book destroyed 16: Refinement part 6 – Caiyi Town, water ghoul hunting 17: Refinement part 7 – More ghouls, waterborne abyss, loquat girl 18: Refinement part 8 – Drunk WWX woken by LWJ for punishment, cold spring scene, rabbit gift, fight with JZX, return to Yunmeng- END FLASHBACK 19: Contentment part 1 – First morning after, talking to juniors, arm suppression 20: Contentment part 2 – LWJ and WWX travel, meet Jin Ling and Fairy, hear about Man-eating Castle 21: Contentment part 3 – Xinglu Ridge, find Fairy, get to Castle/Tomb 22: Contentment part 4: - Find saber coffins, Inquiry, find Jin Ling in wall 23: Malice part 1 – Split up, JL and WWX convo, Jiang Cheng captures WWX 24: Malice part 2 – WWX and JC convo, Jin Ling frees WWX, info about childhood 25: Malice part 3 – LWJ back, carries him, meet with NHS 26: Malice part 4 – NHS explains about saber tomb 27: Malice part 5 – Play rest together to calm arm, return and get legs from tomb 28: Dew part 1 – LWJ and WWX talk, teasing, go to wine shop for rumors about Chang Clan 29: Dew part 2 – More about Chang Clan and Xue Yang, XXC, etc 30: Dew part 3 – Moreabout XY and LLJ sect, cemetery with teleporting gravedigger, find torso, LWJ gets drunk, WWX calls WN and removes nails 31: Dew part 4 – Drunk LWJ, jealous of WN, cleans LWJ face, asks questions, “Mine” 32: Dew part 5 – Morning after teasing, kids playing Sunshot 33: Grasses part 1 – Yi City arrival, meet up with juniors 34: Grasses part 2 – Corpses attack, juniors poisoned, LWJ fights gravedigger, enter house 35: Grasses part 3 – WWX making congee, discover old lady is living corpse, see A-Qing 36: Grasses part 4 – Looking out window, bringing “XXC” inside 37: Grasses part 5 – Song Lan attacks, inquiry, Xue Yang revealed, convo 38: Grasses part 6 – LWJ arrives, fights XY, WWX leaves with juniors, begins EMPATHY on A-Qing 39: Grasses part 7 – A-Q meets XXC, finds XY injured, until she sees XXC kill villager 40: Grasses part 8 – Stories from XXC and XY, meeting Song Lan, killed by XY, A-Q tells XXC 41: Grasses part 9 – Confrontation XXC and XY, XXC kills self, A-Qing runs, is found by XY, EMPATHY ends. 42: Grasses part 10 – WWX and LWJ confront XY, fight, gravedigger teleports away, revive Song Lan and talk with him, begin traveling 43: Allure part 1- Drunk LWJ #2! Wen Ning visits, convo, LWJ wakes, ties hands with ribbon, shows Juniors 44: Allure part 2 – Go upstairs, WWX bites LWJ, play chase for bites/kisses, Kiss, LWJ knocks himself out 45: Allure part 3 – Morning after, WWX talks to Jin Ling, garden of damsel of annual blossoms, ask juniors about ribbon, FLASHBACK to archery contest, pulling the ribbon 46: Guile part 1 – headless body put together, LXC arrives, identify body, talk about JGY 47: Guile part 2 – Discussion Conference Koi Tower – WWX teaches JL fighting, Paperman spying, Qin Su confronting JGY, secret room, NMJ’s head 48: Guile part 3 – EMPATHY begins – NMJ meets Meng Yao, then sends him to Jin sect, catches him murdering, is captured by Wen Ruohan 49: Guile part 4-  Scene in palace, MY kills WR, escape, meet LXC, victory banquet with everyone, LXC teaching JGY guqin,  NMJ and NHS argue, Xue Yang argument, burning NHS’s things 50: Guile part 5 – NMJ qi deviation, END EMPATHY – escape JGY back to body, LWJ and WWX confront JGY, Qin Su dies, WWX revealed, runs, stabbed by JY 51: Courage part 1 – FLASHBACK – Lotus Pier family, sent to Qishan, Wen Chao takes swords, sent to cave 52: Courage part 2 – WWX and LWJ and MianMian, find cave, stand up for MianMian, take Wen chao hostage 53: Courage part 3 – Beast attacks, Wens flee, everyone swims out, LWJ and WWX stuck behind and injured. 54: Courage part 4 – Treating wounds, stripping, biting  ;P 55: Courage part 5 – Talk Xuanwu, talk about Cloud Recesses, Make Plan, Kill Xuanwu, WWX fever, SONG 56: Poisons part 1-  WWX wakes in Lotus Pier, family scene, WWX and JC scene 57: Poisons part 2- WLJ arrives, WWX whipped, Madame Yu slaps WLJ 58: Poisons part 3 – Wen Zhuliu arrives, fight,  WWX and JC put on boat, go back, see Wen Ning 59: Poisons part 4 -  Overhear WC and WLJ, WWX and JC fight, JC returns, Wen Ning helps rescue, FLASHBACK to meeting Wen Ning 60: Poisons part 5 – Supervision office, meet Wen Qing, JC wakes, put back to sleep, WWX tells JC about plan to get golden core back, Wen Chao captures WWX, throws into Burial Mound 61: Evil part 1 – WLJ and WC fear WWX, Sunshot progress, JC and LWJ find destroyed supervision office, find WZL and WC, WWX arrives 62: Evil part 2 – WWX torments WZL and WC, LWJ and JC reunion, LWJ and WWX argue, first “Come back to Gusu”, LWJ leaves 63: Tenderness part 1 – FLASHBACK ENDS -WWX calls to LZ in his sleep “I’ll go with you”, wakes after being stabbed by JL, talk with LXC about song, find evil score 64: Tenderness part 2 – LWJ, WWX, LXC work out how song works, LXC tells WWX about their mother, LWJ arrives with alcohol 65: Tenderness part 3 – WWX finds flower bookmark, JGY arrives and they spy on conversation, LWJ and WWX leave for Burial Mound, scene with rabbits, 66: Tenderness part 4 – WWX rides donkey, thinks about his childhood, learns LWJ wrote song, stop at house and hear wife call husband “Er-gege”, lying on each other in hay 67: Tenderness part 5 – Wen Ning scares off couple, find corpses and bury, talk about Yiling and fantasizes about living together after retirement, arrive at Burial Mound 68: Tenderness part 6 – WWX and Wen Ning remember and mourn, corpses chase them up the hill, find juniors tied up and arguing, free them, argue, JC arrives with group of cultivators who want to kill WWX. 69: Departure part 1 – FLASHBACK – Phoenix Mountain Hunt – Flower throwing, WWX shooting blindfolded, Blindfolded kiss in the tree, WWX finds LWJ punching tree, come across JZX and JYL, memories of their falling out during Sunshot, WWX confronts JZX, Big Argument 70: Departure part 2 – Argument continues, LXC and JGY arrive, more arguing, 71: Departure part 3 – Yunmeng, LWJ meets WWX and ghost girls, WWX and JC talk about responsibilities, JYL and WWX “three years old”, memories of when WWX arrived at Jiang Sect, WWX runs into Wen Qing 72: Recklessness part 1 – LWJ tells LXC he wants to take someone back to Gusu, banquet interrupted by WWX to demand Wen Ning, argue with everyone, go to Qiongqi Path, raise Wen Ning, kill inspectors, leave with Wen remnants 73: Recklessness part 2 – JC meets with sect leaders about WWX, MianMian leaves Jin sect, JC goes to Burial Mound, talks with WWC, fight duel 74: Distance part 1 – WWX at Burial Mound, LWJ in Yiling meets Wen Yuan, get food, learns JYL getting married, get Talisman warning, rides Bichen with LWJ 75: Distance part 2 – WWX calms Wen Ning, takes LWJ to his cave, pretends to faint to avoid Wen Qing, LWJ leaves, WWX goes back with WY has dinner with Wens, drinks, meets JC and JYL in Yiling to see wedding dress 76: Nightfall part one – WWX buys gift while listening to gossip, he and WN travel to Lanling, ambush by Jin XiZun, JiZiXuan arrives and is killed, WWX loses it, wakes up in cave, gets mad at WN, cries 77: Nightfall part 2 – WQ paralyzes WWX and she and WN say goodbye to turn themselves in, WWX is freed and goes to Koi Tower, sees JYL, runs, overhears gossip and scares people, heads to Nightless City 78: Nightfall part 3 – LWJ finds scared people, chases WWX, Conference of sects, WWX argues with them, is attacked and he calls corpses, LWJ arrives, WWX hears JYL, talks to her and JC, JYL killed, uses tiger seal 79: Loyalty part 1 – FLASHBACK ENDS – Argument with cultivators in Burial Mounds continues, fight corpses, spiritual powers gone, retreat behind array, talk about cause, Su She silenced 80: Loyalty part 2 – Uncover SS’s plot, SS pulls sword and is exposed 81: Loyalty part 3 – SS destroys array and teleports out, fight corpses, then second wave comes, WWX paints attraction talisman on himself, tells everyone else to escape 82: Loyalty part 4 – Corpses advance, everyone escapes, Jrs return, bloody corpses rise and fight, WN recognizes, corpses fall to dust, Fang MengChen still angry, WWX tells him off, everyone leaves 83: Loyalty part 5 – Group goes to Lotus Pier, WWX invites self along, everyone takes boats, WN gets on LSZ’s boat, they talk, Jin Ling interrupts, fights with LSZ, WWX and LWJ hear 84: Loyalty part 6 – JL starts crying, JC arrives, WWX is accused, infighting, WWX collapses, LWJ carries him inside cabin, juniors get awkward and leave, LWJ holds WWX who grabs his ribbon, arrive at Lotus Pier, LSZ and WN talk 85: Loyalty part 7 -  Arrive Lotus Pier, JC meets with women, Women tell story about JGS’s death 86: Loyalty part 8 – Madam Qin’s maid tells her story about JGY, cultivators discuss it, WWX and LWJ go eat and explore, WWX climbs tree 87: Loyalty part 9 – WWX jumps from tree and is caught, visit ancestral hall, kneel, confronted by JC 88: Loyalty part 10 – JC accuses WWX and LWJ of being couple, they fight, WWX collapses, WN interferes and reveals golden core 89: Loyalty part 11 – WN explains about core, LWJ and WN carry WWX to boat, talk about A-Yuan and WWX’s core removal 90: Longing part 1 -  WWX and LWJ in boat talking, WWX thinking about his feelings, steal lotus seeds 91: Longing part 2 – eat lotus, arrive Yunping City, visit Temple, go to inn, memories of WWX sneaking into LWJ’s bed and trying to strip him, settling into room. 92: Longing part 3 – WWX naps, hears gossip about JC, gets LWJ drunk, touches his face and stares, then LWJ bites him 93: Longing part 4 – LWJ stabs floor, gives WWX his money, drags him outside, steals chickens, jujubes 94: Longing part 5 – LWJ takes gifts back, then carves name in wall, dog makes WWX jump into his arms, return, WWX draws bath, naked LWJ, LWJ bath 95: Longing part 6 – WWX bathing LWJ, traces whip scars, etc, ahem, you guys know, aka SEX, “Thank you”, LWJ pushes away 96: Longing part 7 – aftermath of drunken sex, WWX and LWJ misunderstandings, inn owner discovers water, move to two separate rooms 97: Longing part 8 – WWX leaves inn, finds graffiti and WN, they talk, go “looking for trouble” 98: Hatred part 1 – Guanyin Temple, see JGY and LXC inside, send WN to get LWJ, Fairy and JL arrive, JL and WWX caught 99: Hatred part 2 – JGY threatens, everyone talks, LXC is most concerned about the state of his Wangxian ship, JGY and LXC are shocked by WWX’s obliviousness, tell WWX what LWJ did, about scars, and tells him off.  WWX tries to run back to LWJ, LWJ arrives, JGY gets wire around his neck 100: Hatred part 3 – LWJ seals his power, WWX confesses and escapes to LWJ, everyone goes inside the Temple, Wangxian confession, Su She arrives with NHS, SS rants, LWJ smiles, JC arrives 101: Hatred part 4 – JC enter, WWX and LWJ hug, JC fights, JGY talks distracting JC about WWX, distracts and stabs him 102: Hatred part 5 – JC and JL talk to WWX and LWJ, talk about golden core, argue, LWJ shoves JC, JC rants, cries. 103: Hatred part 6 – JC apologizes, WWX says to leave it in the past, NHS wakes, coffin is dug up, JGY poisoned, WWX talks about mastermind 104: Hatred part 7 – SS exposed for curse, JGY says WWX destined to die young, JC rages at him, JGY blames JC, WWX accuses of NMJ’s murder, corpses attack, LXC and LWJ attack 105: Hatred part 8 – WWX does empathy on ghoul, sees 14 yr Meng Yao and his mom, JGY admits to starting the fire and burning the brothel, JGY and LXC talk 106: Hatred part 9 – JGY reveals threatening letter, claims he had no choice etc, explains his actions, attacks Jin Ling with string, Wen Ning breaks door in with NMJ, LWJ cuts off JGY arm. 107 Concealment part 1 – JGY bleeds, WN explains, NMJ smashes stuff,  JC and JL feel bad for WN, WWX whistles NMJ to the coffin,  NHS is stabbed, SS slices at NMJ 108: Concealment part 2 – SS dies, JC gives WWX his flute, NMJ sealed in coffin, NHS gets JGY stabbed, and JGY accuses him, leads LXC to coffin, then pushes him away, NMJ kills him 109: Concealment part 3 – LWJ seals tomb with statue, LXC questions NHS, WWX accuses NHS, explains how it happened 110: Concealment part 4 -  Questions, Jiang and Lan sects arrive with juniors, LSZ looks at chenqing, JL cries, WWX and LWJ sneak out, JC revelation about getting caught 111: Wangxian part 1 – LWJ and WWX with lil apple, LSZ catches up, reveals identity, group hug, WN and LSZ leave together, WWX and LWJ talk (thank you and sorry), kiss, memory of phoenix mountain, tells LWJ it was his first kiss, sex in the grass, explanation of burn scar, more sex 112: Wangxian part 2 – 3 months later, WWX and LWJ role-playing while night-hunting, WWX tries to get LWJ to call him Gege, ties up with forehead ribbon, interrupted by MianMian and child, talk to MianMian and her husband, LWJ is jealous,  WWX teases about his money pouch, LWJ says they are married 113: Wangxian part 3 – WWX and LWJ stop at inn, overhear rumors about JGY, news that LXC is in seclusion, leave on Lil Apple, WWX talks about his mom, talk about name for song, The End

Holy crap you guys.  *pants*  anyway enjoy, share, whatev! And in case you feel like it, I do have a Ko-fi.

ETA: Now on AO3 also.

[hela-avenger]

poison & wine masterlist

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

Part 1

Part 2 

Part 3

Part 4 

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7 

Part 8 

Part 9

Part 10 

Part 11

Part 12 

Part 13

Part 14 

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18 

Part 19

Part 20 

Part 21

Part 22 

Part 23

*the training

Part 24 

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28 

Part 29

*crossed wires

Part 30 

Part 31

Part 32 

Part 33

*last call

Part 34 

Part 35

Epilogue

[mysticmachmir]

Judaism: Solstices and Equinoxes

Photo Source

Overview

Judaism runs on a lunar calendar, for example, all our holidays start at sundown. So, this means that the changes of the seasons which are based on a solar calendar do not have as much prominence as the phases of the moon. However, in the Jewish Pre-Talmudic text the Book of Jubilees, we see an alternate Jewish solar calendar. In the end, it was not chosen for what our system is based on - but the Rabbis do talk about the solstices and equinoxes within the Talmud (Berakhot 59b, Shabbat 53a, Eruvin 56a). The word for these four seasons marked by these events is "Tekufot" (tekufah in the singular) which literally means "turn" or "cycle" in Hebrew. According to the sages, each tekufah marks the beginning of a period of 91 days 7½ hours. Tekufot are not necessarily positive events, associated with some negative superstitions. However, there are some different recorded Midrashim that have positive or neutral associations, along with a blessing that can be used to acknowledge them (though this is a minority opinion in the Babylonian Talmud, majority rules this was not necessary). While there is no exact answer, there is some speculation that the four new years within Judaism may be marking the four solar transitions within the year, but some of them are at half-points and not accurately aligned. 

Superstitions

An ancient superstition connected with the tekufot is surrounding water. All water that may be in the house or stored away in vessels in the first hour of the tekufah is thrown away in the belief that the water is then poisoned, and if drunk would cause swelling of the body, sickness, and sometimes death. One of the reasons it is said is because the angels who guard and are the protectors of the year "change shifts" at every solar transition, so water is left unguarded. Another is that Cancer fights with Libra and drops blood into the water. Another reason is that at every tekufah, blood has been shed in our spiritual history. At Tekufat Nissan, the waters in Egypt turned to blood. At Tekufat Tammuz, Moshe smote the rock and caused drops of blood to flow from it. At Tekufat Tishrei the knife which Avraham held to slay Yitzchak dropped blood. Finally, at Tekufat Tevet, Yiftach sacrificed his daughter. It is not only against kashrut laws to ingest blood, but there is a lot of superstition around keeping life and death separated in many of our rituals. To avoid this issue with unused water, one must put a piece of iron within it or put it in an iron vessel. If you are making matzot on Tekufat Nisan, you must use a new iron nail and lower it by a string into the water first. 

There is no traceable origin of this superstition, but in the 10th-century Rabbis asked about these questions and discussed it, meaning it was widespread even then.

Blessing

In Berakhot 59b, the sages say: "One who sees the sun in her tekufah, or the moon in her power, or the stars in their orbits, recites: Blessed is the one who makes Creation' (baruch oseh vereshit)." Abaye argues this should only be done every 29 years when the spring equinox falls so that the sun is in the same place it was on the day of Creation. However, the minority opinion was still written, so you could make the choice to recite it in the astrological events mentioned.

Havdalah ha-Tekufah

This blessing may be recited over a cup of wine or grape juice on the day of the equinox or solstice. This prayer also may be recited along with a blessing over a scent related to the season, for example, flowers for spring, fruit for summer, leaves for fall, and pine boughs for winter. It is based on the following texts:

The Havdalah ceremony dividing Shabbat from the weekday. 

The blessing over equinoxes and solstices found in the Babylonian Talmud (Berakhot 59b).

The traditional evening prayer marking the transition between day and night.

The Torah text in which the Holy One promises Noach that the seasons will continue as long as the earth endures (Bereishit 8:22).

The blessings over the abundance of years found in the daily Amidah prayer (recited in the feminine to honor the Skehinah, the immanent Divine Presence). 

Baruch atah Hashem Elokeinu melekh ha'olam borei peri ha'gafen.

Blessed are You, Hashem, Ruler of the Universe, creator of the fruit of the vine.

Bercuchah at Shekhinah Elokeinu ruach ha'olam, borei isvei (atzei) vesamim. 

Blessed are You, Shekhinah, the Presence who embodies the world, who creates fragrant plants and grasses (or: fragrant trees). 

Baruch atah Hashem Elokeinu melekh ha'olam, oseh vereishit, asher bit'vunah meshaneh itim umachalif et hazemanim. Od kol yemei ha'aretz zera vekatzir vekor vechom vekayitz vechoref veyom velailah lo yishbotu. Bercuhah at Shekhinah, mevarechet hashanim. 

Blessed are you, Hashem, Ruler of the Universe, who makes Creation, whose wisdom changes the times and turns the seasons. As long as the days of the earth endure, planting and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night shall not cease. Blessed are You, Divine Presence, who blesses the years.

Midrashim and Teachings

Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer, a Rabbinic work, tells of the teaching of tekufot to Adam and Chava as part of divine wisdom. Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer (7) also notes the combination of lunar and solar elements in the Jewish calendar. The passage explains that Rabbinic authorities inserted leap months in the calendar "for the sake of the trees, for the sake of the grasses, and for the sake of the tekufot," meaning that the lunar calendar had to be balanced with the cycles of planting and harvest and with the cycles of the solar year. 

Medieval traditions about the tekufot emphasized the eerie qualities of the solstices and equinoxes. The Machzor Vitry indicates the frightening biblical events such as the plague of blood that happened at the four seasonal transitions. 

The Otzar Midrashim (Hashem Behomah, Yasad Aretz 6) mentions a more positive midrash in which giant mythical beings and animals roar on each of the four seasonal dates. These roars compel the demons and wild creatures of the world to restrain themselves so that order prevails and life continues. Thus they encourage all beings to praise the compassion of the Divine. This midrash suggests that the solstices and equinoxes have both frightening and life-preserving qualities. 

Midrash Tanhuma (Korach 10) tells us that the chieftains of Moshe were selected partly because they knew how to calculate and observe the tekufot.

Tekufat Nisan

Tekufat Nisan is the vernal equinox when the Sun enters Aries; this is the beginning of spring, or "eit hazera" (seed-time) when day and night are equal. It is also known as the season of "the triumph of life". 

Jubilees (6:25) records the 1st of Nisan as the day the Divine commanded Noach to build an ark and the day Noach opened the ark and saw dry land.

Seder Olam (11:1), a work from Talmudic times, relates that the new moon of Nissan, the day the Holy Ones gives the calendar to Moshe in preparation for the first celebration of Pesach, is also the spring equinox.

The ancient midrashic collection Peskita Rabbati (15:17), on the other hand, suggests the day of the Exodus was the spring equinox.

In the Machzor Vitry, the spring equinox is the day the first plague, the plague of blood, falls upon Mitzrayim.

In Otzar Midrashim (Hashem Behomah, Yasad Aretz 6), the spring equinox is the day when humans receive protection from demons and evil spirits. On that day, the seraphim "lift up their heads to the heaven, and the fear of them falls upon demons and spirits, and the seraphim shelter humans beneath their wings to hide them from the demons."

The Purim holiday falls near the spring equinox. Its heroine, Esther, reveals herself as a Jew to save her people.

These tales associate the spring equinox with freedom, with divine protection from oppressor or danger, and with life. in spring, the young plants bursting forth from the ground need protection and room to grow, and we ask this blessing for ourselves as well.

Kavanot la-Tekufot: "Arise, my beloved, my fair one, come away, for now the winter is past, the rains are over and gone, the blossoms appear in the land, the time of singing has come, and the song of the dove is in heard in our land." -- Shir haShirim 2:10-12

Tekufat Tammuz

Tekufat Tammuz is the summer solstice when the Sun enters Cancer; this is the summer season, or "et ha-katsir" (harvest-time) when the day is the longest in the year. It is also known as the season of "loss and abundance".

In Jubilees (6:26), the story of Noach's flood, the summer solstice is the day the mouths of the great abyss are closed so that the water ceases pouring onto the earth. 

Jubilees (3:32) also names the summer solstice as the day the Divine exiles Adam and Chava from Gan Eden. This is the day the animals lose their power of speech.

In Seder Olam (11;1), we learn that the day the sun stood still so that Yehoshuah's warriors could win the battle of Gibeon was the summer solstice.

In Genesis Rabbah (6:6), we learn that "on the summer solstice no creation has a shadow."

In the Machzor Vitry, the summer solstice is the day Moshe strikes a rock in anger while seeking water for the people. The Eternal tells Moshe he will never enter Eretz Yisrael as a result of his actions.

In Otzar Midrashim (Hashem Behohmah, Yasad Aretz 6), the summer solstice is the day animals receive protection from their predators. On that day, "the Holy One puts strength in the Behemoth and it becomes strong and raises its head and cries out, and its voice extends through all the settled land, and the wild animals hear and are afraid."

In Jewish tradition, the summer solstice carries with it themes of closure, exile, and loss, yet also the benevolence of nature and the divine. We meditate on grief, yet also on the world's abundance. The summer solstice is a day of paradox: maximum light but also a turn toward darkness.

Kavanot la-Tekufot: "A day is coming that burns like a furnace … I will shine upon you who revere the name of the Infinite a sun of righteousness, with healing in Her wings." -- Malachi 3:19-20

Summer Solstice Rituals: http://telshemesh.org/tammuz/a_jewish_summer_solstice_ritual.html https://www.ritualwell.org/ritual/meditation-tekufat-tammuz https://www.ritualwell.org/ritual/earth-prays

Tekufat Tishrei

Tekufat Tishrei, the autumnal equinox, when the sun enters Libra, and autumn, or "et ha-batsir" (vintage-time), begins, and when the day again equals the night. It is also known as the season of "the link between earth and heaven". 

Jubilees (6:26), in its story of the Flood, records the autumn equinox as the day the floodwaters begin to descend back into the depths so that the earth can be fruitful once again.

On the autumn equinox, Avraham sits up all night to observe the stars, to forecast the rains of the coming season (Jubilees 12:16).

In the Machzor Vitry, the autumn equinox is the day Avraham nearly sacrifices Yitzchak on Mount Moriah, before the Divine stays his hand. Because of his act, Avraham is blessed that his seed will be as the stars in the sky.

According to the Babylonian Talmud (Rosh Hashanah 10b), Sarah, Rakhel, and Channah all conceived on the 1st of Tishrei, a date close to the autumn equinox. 

In Otzar Midrashim (Hashem Behohmah, Yasad Aretz 6), the autumn equinox is the season of the ziz, when birds receive protection from their predators. "On the autumn equinox, the Holy One gives strength to the ziz and it becomes strong, and it lifts is head and flaps its winds and sends forth its voice, so that fear of it falls on the culture and the osprey from one year to the next."

The autumn equinox seems related to the skies, the stars, and the rains. Yet it is also related to fertility and to the renewal of life. In many climates, autumn is a season of harvest and of rain. Perhaps the autumn equinox is the time of reforging the lin between earth and heaven- a link necessary for life to continue.

Kavanot la-Tekufot: "May it be Your will that it be a year of rain and dew, a year of favor, a year of blessing, and a year of abundance … and please do not listen to the prayers of those who pray that there be no rain!" -- Leviticus Rabbah 20:44

Tekufat Tevet

Tekufat Tevet is the winter solstice when the sun enters Capricorn; this is the beginning of winter, or "et ha-ḥoref" (winter-time), when the night is the longest during the year. It is also known as the season for "the search for light".

In Jubilees (7), in the days of Noach, the winter solstice is the day the peaks of the mountains became visible after the floodwaters recede.

In the Babylonian Talmud (Avodah Zarah 8a), Adam and Chava become frightened as the winter solstice approaches, thinking the shortening of the days is a punishment. They fast for eight days. On the winter solstice, when the light grows, they celebrate for eight days. 

In the Machzor Vitry, the winter solstice is the day Yiftach, a chieftain of Yisrael, sacrifices his daughter in fulfillment of a foolish battle vow. She has been bewailing her fate on the hills for two months.

Otzah Midrashim (Hashem Behohmah, Yasad Aretz 6), tells that on the winter solstice, Leviathan protects the creatures of the sea from their predators: "On every winter solstice he lifts his head and makes himself great, and blows in the water, and roils the sea, and makes all the fish in the ocean afraid." Leviathan is a creature known for being G!d's playmate (Babylonian Talmud, Avodah Zarah 3b) and a wise teacher of human beings (Otzar Midrashim Alphabet of Ben Sira 17). His eyes, according to the Talmud, flash in the deep (Bava Batra 74b). 

The winter solstice seems to have to do with sight or the lack thereof. Mountains become visible to Noach, and the patterns of nature become visible to Adam and Chava. Leviathan is associated with inner sight. Yiftach, on the other hand, is blind to his own wrongdoings. On the winter solstice, the sun's light begins to become stronger, and we too consider how to strengthen our vision.

Kavanot la-Tekufot: "We are grateful before You, Eternal One, for You have brought us from darkness to light." -- Midrash Bereshit 68:11

Winter Solstice Rituals: http://telshemesh.org/tevet/winter_solstice_take_2.html http://telshemesh.org/tevet/chanukahsolstice_thoughts_for_2008.html http://telshemesh.org/tevet/chanukat_hatekufahritual_for_chanukah_and_the_winter_solstice_jill_hammer.html https://www.ritualwell.org/blog/burning-away-darkness-winter-solstice-ritual

If you like my writing, feel free to leave me a tip here: https://ko-fi.com/ezrasaville

Sources: The Jewish Book of Days by Rabbi Jill Hammer Jewish Encyclopedia, 1906. http://www.peelapom.com/  http://www.devotaj.com/ http://telshemesh.org/