#pylon lady

[artcallednaturalviews]

FlyHigh Trump 1500hrs 22Oct18

Before White House, asked a guard

“Some lady crashed into pylon.”

A fly away on the day

I was at Jefferson! Or rather than than perhaps!

Picb4Dinner006

[jessieren]

Starting your weekend with a new mini fidget

You’re welcome 😇

[marcusmettalus]

(Continuation from This Post of Necron Brain-Rot)

The Khaptehm Dynasty, Faithful To The Silent King Above All

Part Two

Lord Szarekh had been married, only for a few short years together, but they were cherished years. Her name was Ma'at, and hailed from [Dynasty Name Here].

Lady Ma'at may not have held the lime light like her husband, but she helped temper his frustrations while he attempted time and time again to unify their people across the ages.

Their union did bring forth fruit, a brilliant woman in the form of Auset-Yah, which translates to "She Who Wears The Crescent Moons". Being the firstborn child of the Triarch Dynasty, Auset got all manner of education and training under the tutelage from elite scholars, Crypteks, Wardens and even directly from Her Father.

Sadly, Lady Ma'at would succumb to an unknown malady

Szarekh and Rha agreed to formally bond their Dynasties following the end of the second Secessionist Wars though it was some years before the Bio-Transference.

-

¦Esteemed Phaeron Rha of The Khaptehm Dynasty, He Who Conquered The Sun God, He Who Summons The Golden Star, My Friend. May I present to You, My Heir-Apparent and Daughter, She Who Wears The Crescent Moons, Auset-Yah.¦

\Your Majesty, an Honor to meet You and Your Dynasty.\

{Salutations/Greetings/Welcome To My Domain/World/Home Lady Auset-Yah. Your Vision/Soul/Beauty Is Without Flaw/Height/Compare. Aiat Aiat.}

\Your words are too kind, Great Phaeron Rha, but I accept them none the less. And You must be,,\

/Heir-Apparent to the Khaptehm Dynasty Throne, He To Bear The Sun Crown, Ahmun-Rha. I offer My Greetings and Soul to You Lady Auset-Yah./

\Hahahaha, please call me Auset, after all we are to be Betrothed with Dawn's First Light, no need to be so formal till then.\

-

Auset and Ahmun, Princess and Prince, Moon and Sun. Poetic is it not? The Sun brought warmth and cast aside shadows. The Moon brought tranquility and called forth secrets.

Two separate Souls, both weighted down by the mantles of leadership. One by the vastness and immeasurable warmth of a Sun, the other by the very presence of their Father's Words and the deepest of secrets.

For Heavy Is The Head That Wears The Crown.

The new Royal couple would spend most of their time together, both for their own development but also to show to the other Dynasties, that their people were stronger if properly united.

Even when The Bio-Transference was to be done, when the Great Slumber was to be started,, Ahmun-Rha and Auset-Yah went together. Even if Auset-Yah had some hesitations.

-

\,,, Ahmun?\

/Yes My Love?/

\Will it,,, \

/Will what?/

\Will it hurt? When we transfer Our Souls? Into the new bodies, that Vault thing your Father made,, any of it?\

/,,,, I do not know. All I know is that the pain of living another microsecond without you by My side will be torture, compared to spending the rest of My existance within an ageless form and with You at My Side./

-

The Vault of Eternity. A vast complex spanning for kilometers upon kilometers beneath the surface of the Crown World. Generators, Aether-Pylons, Barracks, Assembly-Plants, everything that a Phaeron would ever need to rule his Dynasty come the Awakening. Swarms of Scarabs and Automata to clean, maintain and repair the vast underground realm while the entirety of the Dynasty slept.

And while it was made to primarily house the consciousness of the Khaptehm Dynasty, it was still built to be a Palace for the living, decorated and clad in polished Blackstone and gilded contures. And as a final gift to His Son and Daughter-in-law,,

A vast array of mirrors and receptors,, so that every time the sun and moon both were at their apex, they would be projected onto the two sarcophagi which contained the sleeping couple.

What greater gift is there in the cosmos, that defies the very titans of time and causality, then Life and Love?

[shegeekery]

Misfits Chapter 5: Hades' Domain

See Chapter 1: Reunion for a description and the full chapter index.

Chapter 5: Hades’ Domain

Word of Lady Jane’s banishment spread rapidly throughout the compound, from the audience chamber to the kitchens — even down to the battlefield. Zev was fighting alongside some Asgardians they knew when they heard the news. 

“What? What is Hades?” they shouted to the fighter closest to them. 

“Greek underworld. Nasty place, from what I’ve heard,” the fellow replied. 

Zev’s stomach seemed to leap into their throat, mind racing. I need to tell Rune. The scholar would be the last to hear the news, closeted with his books and experiments as he usually was. 

As soon as there was a lull in the fighting nearby, they took off running in the direction of the library. It was permissible for anyone to leave the battlefield from time to time, so long as you didn’t make a habit of it.

They raced into the library and found their way to the room in the back where Rune normally worked. He was there, talking to the red-headed man from last night. Zev looked from one to the other. 

“Loki? That’s you, isn’t it?”

The man hesitated, then nodded. “I take it you heard about my father’s latest demonstration of sound judgment?”

“Yeah. This is insane! Jane didn’t deserve that.”

“I agree,” Loki said.

“Loki asked me to assist him so he can go help her,” Rune explained. “The gateway can get him there, but Odin and Heimdall are the only ones who know, well, knew how to use it.”

“Wow,” Zev said to their friend. “Who knew you had a rebel streak in you?”

Rune gave them a weak, nervous smile.

“Rune’s discoveries may be helpful here,” Loki added. “I can shield myself from Heimdall’s vision and create a distraction, but I need him to calibrate the gateway or I’m likely to find myself lost in the etheric realm or the heart of a star.”

“I’m coming with you.” Zev told him. 

Loki shook his head. “A Lycan in Hades would attract too much attention.”

“You can make me appear human,” Zev pointed out. Loki looked like he was about to argue, but they cut him off. “You may need backup once you get there and…Jane is my friend.”

Zev wanted to question Loki’s motives, but thought better of it. He did have a habit of betraying people and would no doubt love to get his hands on Ovaltine, or whatever the magical doohickey was called. On the other hand, well, his unpredictability went both ways. Zev just wanted to be certain there would be someone there who had only Jane’s welfare in mind.

Loki cocked his head and stared at them for a moment. Zev had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew what they were thinking.

“Very well,” he said, finally. Turning to Rune, he asked, “I assume you’ll need to adjust your calculations to accommodate two people?”

“Three,” Rune answered shakily. “I’d better go as well. Who knows what you’ll have to do once you get there? The shift in affinities most likely applies to all afterlife dimensions, not just Valhalla.”

“Right,” Loki said with a sigh. “Three it is. How long until you’re ready?”

“Perhaps fifteen minutes?”

“Make it ten, and meet us by the entrance to the bridge. I have to get Heimdall out of the way.” 

With that, he turned and strode briskly out of the room, Zev at his heels.

As they approached the bridge, Loki cast an illusion to hide the two of them from prying eyes, then studied one of the bridge pylons closest to them. Nodding to himself, he raised his hand and sent a small current of magic toward the bottom of the pylon. Zev watched, but nothing seemed to be happening.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t just blast the thing down. That would attract too much attention and bring the entire army running. It has to look like a structural fault is destabilizing the bridge.”

“Got it.” Zev watched as small cracks began to appear in the pylon and the metal slowly began to buckle. By the time Rune joined them a few minutes later, the surface of the bridge began to lurch as well. 

A figure on the far side of the bridge came running toward them. Heimdall ran past without noticing them, trying to determine the source of the problem.

“Now!” Loki hissed and ran onto the bridge, Zev and Rune following closely behind. The three sprinted the length of the bridge, stopping before Valhalla’s gateway. 

Rune touched a rune engraved on the side of the portal. It glowed with a warm yellow light, then he did the same with another, and another. 

After nearly a minute of this, he turned to Loki. “The coordinates are set, but, well, let’s just say I’m better with the theory than with the practical. You’ll have to activate it.”

Loki brushed him lightly aside and sent a blast of green energy toward the center of the gateway. The solid surface of the gateway was replaced by a swirling vortex.

On the far end of the bridge, Heimdall stopped his investigation and started running back toward them. 

“Let’s go,” Loki said, and the three of them stepped into the vortex.

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

Jane shook her head to clear it when the blast of energy around her faded. She found herself standing in a green meadow dotted with wildflowers and scattered cyprus trees. The air smelled fresh and the temperature was comfortable, for which she was grateful given that her armor had apparently been replaced with a light robe of yellow linen. Her boots were now simple sandals made of light brown leather.

In the distance, she spotted some gentle, rolling hills, partly covered in cultivated fields. A large, single-story wooden house stood on top one of the hills, with smaller dwellings clustered around it. She could hear music that sounded like a cross between a recorder and a bagpipe — a sweet, slow melody that fit in well with the view.

This is Hades? Either Odin sent me to the wrong place, or they have a serious marketing problem.  

She began making her way to the little village, trying to think of something to say without arousing suspicion. 

I hope English works here like it does in Valhalla. Rune had told her that Asgard had an enchantment that allowed people to speak in their own language and be understood by anyone, and that carried over to the afterlife version. 

Upon entering the village, she discovered the source of the music. In a central courtyard, a woman played an instrument that looked like two reed flutes held together with string. Several people lounged nearby on the ground or on cushions, listening to the performance and eating grapes, olives, and some sort of flatbread. She didn’t see anyone actually working in the settlement or in the fields. The contrast between the pastoral, relaxed atmosphere of this place, compared to the rigid schedule and martial intensity of Valhalla, was striking and disorienting.

The listeners watched her approach with expressions of curiosity, but without any apparent concern or alarm.

“Um, hi,” Jane began. “I just arrived here, but I’m not sure where I am, exactly.”

An older woman with long, gray hair smiled indulgently. “A newcomer! We don’t see many of you these days. Welcome to Elysium!”

Elysium? As in the Elysian Fields? Jane vaguely remembered it as the name of something like a Greek version of Heaven. It certainly  seemed to fit. I didn’t know that was part of Hades. Or is it?

She had been expecting dark caves filled with gray, hopeless wretches suffering for all eternity — or a blasted, barren, lifeless landscape. This place seemed idyllic, like the Shire or something out of a 19th century landscape painting.

The woman who had spoken stood up and offered Jane an intricately decorated ceramic plate of food. “I’m Cora,” she said. 

“Jane,” Jane replied, suppressing the urge to offer a handshake. She had no idea what ancient Greek greeting customs were like. She took the plate gratefully. No knowing when she might have a chance to eat again.

Seems unfair that we still have to worry about things like that.

“Jane? That’s an unusual name.”

Oops. “My parents were a bit eccentric.” Jane decided to waste no time. Who knew what would happen if someone realized that she was actually trespassing here? She needed to find out where Laevateinn was, and this didn’t seem a likely place for it.

“So, have you ever met Hades?”

“Lord Hades? He visits this sector once in a while. There’s always a festival in his honor when he does. I’ve only seen him from a distance — which is plenty good enough for me.”

“I see. Where does he spend his time then?”

“He resides in Tartarus. We don’t require much of his attention. We’re quite happy here, really.”

“I’m not surprised,” Jane said. “This is…lovely. So, I know this probably sounds like a strange question, but if I wanted to go to Tartarus, how would I get there?”

“Tartarus? Why in Zeus’s name would you want to go there ?”

“It’s…a long story.”

Cora gave her a long, searching look. “If you want to go to Tartarus, you’ll need to head south.” She pointed in the direction she meant. “It’s a long walk. Lord Hades’ lands are extensive. Are you certain you truly want to do this?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Alright, perhaps half a day’s walk from here. This road should take you there.” The “road” was more of a dirt path.

“Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality — and really, I wish I could just stay here…”

“You’re on quest , aren’t you?” Cora intoned the word “quest” as if it was a sacred matter.

“Well, yes, I suppose I am.”

“Very well. I wish you good fortune.”

Jane was touched and thankful for Cora’s helpfulness. She finished the food she’d been given, handed the plate back to Cora with her thanks, bid the woman farewell, and set off without delay, 

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

Loki, Zev, and Rune stepped out of the portal and into a scene that struck Zev like something out of one of the horror movies they’d watched on Earth. The three companions found themselves in a large cavern with sputtering torches and scorched-black moss on the stone walls. Fires burned in various places around the space, and the smell of sulfur was thick in the air. 

Loki looked like himself again, but he now wore an emerald-green tunic embroidered with gold, with a black cloak over the top. Rune was dressed similarly, but in a white tunic with yellow embroidery and a gray cloak. Looking down, Zev examined their own appearance to find disconcertingly hairless limbs emerging from a plain white tunic.   

An anguished cry captured their attention. Not far from where they stood, a man was chained to a rock, screaming in agony as some sort of molten metal splattered from a cauldron, searing him drop by drop.

Rune shuddered. “This is horrible! Who would do this?”

“Hades,” Loki answered, grimly. “Though, from what I’ve heard, this is nothing compared to the Christian Hell. At least some of these prisoners are released after a year or so.”

“How do we find Jane?” Zev asked.

“Needle in a haystack,” Loki answered. “We have to find Laevateinn and hope she finds her way to the same place.”

Zev said nothing. Their suspicion regarding Loki’s motives was aroused, but they didn’t have a better suggestion.

Loki swiveled his head from side to side. “That way, I think.” He pointed to their left.

“What are we looking for?” Rune asked.

“Hades’ headquarters. Chances are, he’ll keep any precious possessions close to hand.”

They wandered from cavern to cavern, witnessing various forms of torture that Zev wished they could un-see. Loki seemed to have some idea what he was doing, so the other two simply followed him. 

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

Jane was beginning to wish she’d asked Cora for some water for the journey. She had no way to track the time, but she guessed that she’d been walking for more than 4 hours. The lovely rolling hills and pastoral settlements had given way to low, craggy outcrops with sparse vegetation and no end in sight.

She followed the path around a jumble of rocks — and stopped cold. 

The path ended at the shore of a lake that stretched as far as she could see to either side. The water was still and dark.

“Well, shoot. Now what?” she asked the empty stillness.   

She squatted and scooped up some of the water with cupped hands. She was tempted to drink it — she was that thirsty. She didn’t know much about Greek mythology, but she knew enough to know that drinking from rivers or lakes in Hades was probably a terrible idea. She sniffed it. It smelled like water, nothing more.

From this position, she could see that the path actually continued into the water. Not knowing what else to do, she stood up, let the water pour from her hands, and took a tentative step into the lake.

This is probably bad for these sandals, but no way am I going barefoot in that.

Nothing happened. She took another step, then another, until she was standing in water up to her knees.  She could see the path sloping down under the water ahead of her. There was no way she could walk it. Maybe she was just supposed to swim?

On a hunch, she kept wading out into the lake until only her head was still out of the water. Well, here goes nothing. She took a deep breath and stepped forward so that she was fully submerged. 

As soon as she did so, she felt herself being pulled downward. What had felt like a solid lake floor disappeared and she was falling fast. The water around her swirled and vanished little by little, until she was falling in total darkness and nothingness. Her flailing arms could find nothing to grab on to. 

She braced for a very hard landing, but it didn’t come. Her lungs complained — she was still holding her breath. She let it out and inhaled tentatively. Air. It smelled very faintly of sulfur.

The astrophysicist in her tried to pay attention the rush of air around her. If I fall long enough, I won’t have to worry about hitting the ground. I’ll burn up before that happens!

The seconds slipped by, but it didn’t feel like she was accelerating. The friction was no worse than when she started falling. The sulfur smell was stronger now. Okay, maybe this is like some sort of elevator? 

Finally she felt herself slowing. She touched down lightly on solid rock to find herself standing at one end of a long tunnel dimly lit by torches along the walls. Looking up the way she’d come, she saw only solid rock above her. 

No way out but through.

She made her way cautiously through the tunnel. Just as she emerged into a larger, cavernous space, she felt a cold mist swirling around her. It coalesced a few feet in front of her and assumed the form of a man, slim and handsome, his short, curly, silver hair offering a striking contrast to his olive-brown skin. 

“May I help you?” he asked, in a low, pleasant voice.

“I’m sorry,” Jane replied, doing her best to look innocent-but-confused. “I… I seem to be lost. I was looking for —“ She hesitated, trying to think of a convincing story.

The man gave her a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I think I know what you were looking for.” He looked her up and down. “I know every face of every soul in my dominion. You, my dear, do not belong here.”

My dominion. Oh no, please don’t tell me this is Hades himself!

Jane decided a half-truth would be more convincing than a plain lie. “I was in Elysium,” she said. “I was wading in a lake and then I fell. Can you tell me how to get back there?”

Hades’ cold smile remained. “Nice try,” he said. “Cerberus — here boy! Guards!” 

Another mist gathered and settled into the shape of a dog. It was roughly the size and shape of a greyhound, but sported three heads, each growling and displaying razor-sharp fangs.

Huh. I thought he’d be bigger, Jane found herself thinking as a dozen armored men ran toward them from the other end of the cavern. Her instinct was to run, but she doubted she would get far with that dog after her. 

“Seize her,” Hades said to the guards. “Take her to the fortress. I’ll question her later.”

Jane said nothing as two of the guards grabbed her by the arms and marched her away. She looked back over her shoulder. Hades appeared to be talking quietly to Cerberus.

Go to Chapter 6

[wistfulweaverwoman]

My URL is a tongue-in-cheek reference to Anne Shirley, specifically when she play acts as the Lilymaid, Elaine, from Lord Alfred Tennyson’s poem, The Lady of Shalott.

Her annoyance that Gilbert Blythe of all people should find her clinging to the pylons and rescue her, and worse that her friends should find it so romantic, endears this scene to me. It’s one of my most favorites from the entire series, right up there with “Rilla MY Rilla?”.

Wistfulweaverwoman specifically comes from the line “there she weaves by night and day, a magic web with colors gay”, while my AO3 is Lilymaid.

Here is the poem in its entirety:

The Lady of Shalott (1842)

BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON

Part I

On either side the river lie

Long fields of barley and of rye,

That clothe the wold and meet the sky;

And thro' the field the road runs by

To many-tower'd Camelot;

And up and down the people go,

Gazing where the lilies blow

Round an island there below,

The island of Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,

Little breezes dusk and shiver

Thro' the wave that runs for ever

By the island in the river

Flowing down to Camelot.

Four gray walls, and four gray towers,

Overlook a space of flowers,

And the silent isle imbowers

The Lady of Shalott.

By the margin, willow veil'd,

Slide the heavy barges trail'd

By slow horses; and unhail'd

The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd

Skimming down to Camelot:

But who hath seen her wave her hand?

Or at the casement seen her stand?

Or is she known in all the land,

The Lady of Shalott?

Only reapers, reaping early

In among the bearded barley,

Hear a song that echoes cheerly

From the river winding clearly,

Down to tower'd Camelot:

And by the moon the reaper weary,

Piling sheaves in uplands airy,

Listening, whispers " 'Tis the fairy

Lady of Shalott."

Part II

There she weaves by night and day

A magic web with colours gay.

She has heard a whisper say,

A curse is on her if she stay

To look down to Camelot.

She knows not what the curse may be,

And so she weaveth steadily,

And little other care hath she,

The Lady of Shalott.

And moving thro' a mirror clear

That hangs before her all the year,

Shadows of the world appear.

There she sees the highway near

Winding down to Camelot:

There the river eddy whirls,

And there the surly village-churls,

And the red cloaks of market girls,

Pass onward from Shalott.

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,

An abbot on an ambling pad,

Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,

Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,

Goes by to tower'd Camelot;

And sometimes thro' the mirror blue

The knights come riding two and two:

She hath no loyal knight and true,

The Lady of Shalott.

But in her web she still delights

To weave the mirror's magic sights,

For often thro' the silent nights

A funeral, with plumes and lights

And music, went to Camelot:

Or when the moon was overhead,

Came two young lovers lately wed:

"I am half sick of shadows," said

The Lady of Shalott.

Part III

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,

He rode between the barley-sheaves,

The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,

And flamed upon the brazen greaves

Of bold Sir Lancelot.

A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd

To a lady in his shield,

That sparkled on the yellow field,

Beside remote Shalott.

The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,

Like to some branch of stars we see

Hung in the golden Galaxy.

The bridle bells rang merrily

As he rode down to Camelot:

And from his blazon'd baldric slung

A mighty silver bugle hung,

And as he rode his armour rung,

Beside remote Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather

Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,

The helmet and the helmet-feather

Burn'd like one burning flame together,

As he rode down to Camelot.

As often thro' the purple night,

Below the starry clusters bright,

Some bearded meteor, trailing light,

Moves over still Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;

On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;

From underneath his helmet flow'd

His coal-black curls as on he rode,

As he rode down to Camelot.

From the bank and from the river

He flash'd into the crystal mirror,

"Tirra lirra," by the river

Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,

She made three paces thro' the room,

She saw the water-lily bloom,

She saw the helmet and the plume,

She look'd down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide;

The mirror crack'd from side to side;

"The curse is come upon me," cried

The Lady of Shalott.

Part IV

In the stormy east-wind straining,

The pale yellow woods were waning,

The broad stream in his banks complaining,

Heavily the low sky raining

Over tower'd Camelot;

Down she came and found a boat

Beneath a willow left afloat,

And round about the prow she wrote

The Lady of Shalott.

And down the river's dim expanse

Like some bold seër in a trance,

Seeing all his own mischance—

With a glassy countenance

Did she look to Camelot.

And at the closing of the day

She loosed the chain, and down she lay;

The broad stream bore her far away,

The Lady of Shalott.

Lying, robed in snowy white

That loosely flew to left and right—

The leaves upon her falling light—

Thro' the noises of the night

She floated down to Camelot:

And as the boat-head wound along

The willowy hills and fields among,

They heard her singing her last song,

The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,

Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,

Till her blood was frozen slowly,

And her eyes were darken'd wholly,

Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.

For ere she reach'd upon the tide

The first house by the water-side,

Singing in her song she died,

The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,

By garden-wall and gallery,

A gleaming shape she floated by,

Dead-pale between the houses high,

Silent into Camelot.

Out upon the wharfs they came,

Knight and burgher, lord and dame,

And round the prow they read her name,

The Lady of Shalott.

Who is this? and what is here?

And in the lighted palace near

Died the sound of royal cheer;

And they cross'd themselves for fear,

All the knights at Camelot:

But Lancelot mused a little space;

He said, "She has a lovely face;

God in his mercy lend her grace,

The Lady of Shalott."

[renoxvated]

"You have a lot to answer for!" “Do I? For what? Your greed? Curiosity? You came here on your own, no one held a gun to your head.“

"Might as well of put that collar on yourself."

"Unless you come down here, I'll destroy the vault and everything in it!" Roy's white knuckled, body broken, beaten, he feels so angry and raw like an exposed nerve. Doesn't think he's ever been in a worse situation than this, backed into a corner waiting for the next strike down. It made him feel like a child again, in the worst ways that he thought he buried deeper than his mother’s grave. So he threatens, plays his last hand, his ONLY gamble that he's got left. "No... I don't think so, It'd most likely trigger the other security measures...if you hurt the vault at all. The builder of this casino built it to last, the Sierra Madre withstood the war. I'm sure the vault is protected as well. Besides, you wouldn't have followed the signal if you didn't want this places secrets for your own, you're curious, past the threats." The voice booms, commanding and snide, Roy flinches when the older man speaks, like a wound being pulled open slowly, methodically. Roy's knees buckle under the weight, the PRESSURE of it all. "Forget the vault, the elevator is only a single control box." He responds back, he knows enough to fuck this shit up, he thinks. If he doesn't well he can just bluff right? Anything to just buy him sometime to THINK...god fuck, Roy THINK. He can't, his head is throbbing, so many wounds, but the others are depending on him, hell he's depending on himself, he's going to fucking die here after everything. "The elevator. Then you'd be trapped for certain, no probability of escape." Roy knew that, knew this was a bad hand he was dealt, but...if he was going to die here then he'd spite this bastard. "Throwing a wrench into the works is what I do best." Roy responds back, letting out a laugh, it's pained and he doesn't really find this situation funny, he wants to cry. For the first time in a long time he wants to just SOB, he always thought he'd break before he'd bend and oh god is he breaking. "Even... if you damaged the mechanism...there's a chance of repairing it. It might take years...but it's possible. Persist in threatening me... or the Sierra Madre's secrets, you're of no use to me I'll set off the collar now." The voice booms again, reminding him of his short leash, his collar. Roy hadn't forgotten, how could he with a beeping reminder every time he'd do something, anything WRONG. "I'll clip the wires to this intercom, and then the Pip-Boy." Roy's voice doesn't wavier, even if his body is, he refuses to, refuses to die without a fight even if he can hardly stand right now. He's so glad he didn't bring Rex here, so scared to think he might not ever see his friend. If he doesn't get to say goodbye...would Rex think he abandoned him? Could New Vegas and the strip move on without him? Fuck, fuck, fuck! "Huh, clever. Whoever designed the Sierra Madre... their obsession with messing with frequencies and signals...I'm coming down, I'll meet you face to face at the vault entrance. If you resist, I'll use the collar, even if it puts the vault at risk." The way the man speaks, it was...Roy thought it HAUNTING. Like the ghosts in this godforsaken hotel. Where was Lady Luck now? Was this his only shot? Roy panics for a brief moment, like a dog not knowing where to hide when its master is coming to reprimand it. Roy chokes back the tears threatening to spill, hand grasping a heavy golden bar-- he needed something, anything at all...he was always so good with his hands. Roy moves around the pylon in the middle of the room, he's got to hide, got to wait until that bastard is moving around the corner to come see him. Forget the gold, forget everything here but getting back home. 'I won't leave them...I won't abandon them...' He repeats in his head like a mantra, no a prayer that this works...

Then he spots him, and oh god does Roy feel the RAGE bubbling up, like bile; he thinks it's so red hot that he might puke. Benny mad him angry, made him stupid (more than usual) in a lot of ways, he thinks about in retrospect...but at the end of the day Benny was just a man, much like The Courier, a man Roy could understand...but Elijah? No he was a MONSTER, the kind of man that scared even the Mojave Boogeyman. Roy attacked, teeth clenched into a snarl, maw gaping when the first strike hit, he could feel the splatter against his hand, feel it SLICK against the gold. Roy wants to scream, wants to say something anything to make Elijah feel like he felt, beat him down, break him down, TWIST his bones until he feels the crunch into flesh. Roy doesn't have time, he's already used too much, he hears the beeping--oh fuck, oh fuck, NO.

Roy turns on his heels and tries to run out the door, if he can just be quick enough-- he can do this, he can make it out ALIVE IN ONE PIECE. Then he's pulled back and there's a laugh, like the DEVIL HIMSELF was d r a g g i n g him back into HELL. The beeping is LOUDER, FASTER.

"You... think you've out smarted me? You can't get away, you're the one on a leash, always were."

There's got to be no time left now, but Six gives way to one hard PULL, he's stronger than the DEVIL HIMSELF, at least physically-- then he's outside the vault, as if it's all over, as if it never happened, oh fucking god he's free. He's Free...HE'S FREE. Roy knows how that guy back in Nipton felt. He motions to cradle his face in his arms as he slumps onto the ground, dropping the gold bar as he does so that's in his right hand, he can't stand he's going to be sic--oh. His arm is gone. Roy stares for what feels like hours, it's only seconds, he SCREAMS. His voice howling into the night like a grief he's never felt. He's SOBBING. This is...this is all so much, too much. Then he's LAUGHING, like it's a joke even though his face is affixed into a tragedy. "I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON THAT GOLD ASSHOLE, YOU CAN FUCKING SHOVE IT YOU GODDAMN PRICK." He screams, voice cracking and choking out his words, the others gather around him.

He doesn't remember much, just a crushing agony deep in his chest-- they tell him the hardest part is letting go, they tell him he should leave the gold, that nothing good came from it. He thinks that's all a bunch of bullshit...he let go of more than ANYONE, for THEM. So Roy takes the gold back with him, stares at it long and hard when they've stopped the bleeding enough for him to drag himself back to the Lucky 38. And after all that's said and done? He listens to the radio, searching for an old song, his favorite one. 743.00Hz ULF "Heh… now, come on, you open up. Open up, damn you. Open the vault…! I can make it worth your while, think about what you're throwing away. I have other weapons, other technology I can share with you. The collars… the collars were a mistake, I see that now. Why would I kill you? After all you've done… after all we've done together. Are you listening to me?! Everything down here, I-I Swear, so much you could see! You could rule the wastes with what's down here, make your own army, re-shape the world, and if others disagree… put collars on them, I can show you how. Don't you leave me here! You can't do this to me! Must be someone… maybe that other courier, one with the flag on his back… maybe… no… no, said he'd never come to the Sierra Madre…No way out. Can't… can't end like this."

"You. I know you can hear me. When you die, Courier… I'll be waiting. Your grave's going look just like this vault." If hell is real, if it's a vault in that hotel waiting for him, he'll make sure to flick off the guy waiting for him there, one golden gilded finger waiting for the DEVIL too.

[wildbeautifuldamned]

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[156shadesofscarlet]

Glory unto the Scarlet Woman, Babalon the Mother of Abominations, that rideth upon the Beast, for she hath spilt their blood in every corner of the earth and lo! she hath mingled it in the cup of her whoredom.

With the breath of her kisses hath she fermented it, and it hath become the wine of the Sacrament, the wine of the Sabbath; and in the Holy Assembly hath she poured it out for her worshippers, and they had become drunken thereon, so that face to face they beheld my Father. Thus are they made worthy to become partakers of the Mystery of this holy vessel, for the blood is the life. So sitteth she from age to age, and the righteous are never weary of her kisses, and by her murders and fornications she seduceth the world. Therein is manifested the glory of my Father, who is truth.

This is the Mystery of Babylon, the Mother of Abominations, and this is the mystery of her adulteries, for she hath yielded up herself to everything that liveth, and hath become a partaker in its mystery. And because she hath made herself the servant of each, therefore is she become the mistress of all. Not as yet canst thou comprehend her glory.

Beautiful art thou, O Babylon, and desirable, for thou hast given thyself to everything that liveth, and thy weakness hath subdued their strength. For in that union thou didst understand. Therefore art thou called Understanding, O Babylon, Lady of the Night!

O Babylon, Babylon, thou mighty Mother, that ridest upon the crown d beast, let me be drunken upon the wine of thy fornications; let thy kisses wanton me unto death, that even I, thy cup-bearer, may understand.

Blessed are the saints, that their blood is mingled in the cup, and can never be separate any more. For Babylon the Beautiful, the Mother of Abominations, hath sworn by her holy cteis, whereof every point is a pang, that she will not rest from her adulteries until the blood of everything that liveth is gathered therein, and the wine thereof laid up and matured and consecrated, and worthy to gladden the heart of my Father. For my Father is weary with the stress of eld, and cometh not to her bed. Yet shall this perfect wine be the quintessence, and the elixir, and by the draught thereof shall he renew his youth; and so shall it be eternally, as age by age the worlds do dissolve and change, and the universe unfoldeth itself as a Rose, and shutteth itself up as the Cross that is bent into the cube.

And this is the comedy of Pan, that is played at night in the thick forest. And this is the mystery of Dionysus Zagreus, that is celebrated upon the holy mountain of Kithairon. And this is the secret of the brothers of the Rosy Cross; and this is the heart of the ritual that is accomplished in the Vault of the Adepts that is hidden in the Mountain of the Caverns, even the Holy Mountain Abiegnus.

And this is the meaning of the Supper of the Passover, the spilling of the blood of the Lamb being a ritual of the Dark Brothers, for they have sealed up the Pylon with blood, lest the Angel of Death should enter therein. Thus do they shut themselves off from the company of the saints. Thus do they keep themselves from compassion and from understanding. Accurséd are they, for they shut up their blood in their heart.

They keep themselves from the kisses of my Mother Babylon, and in their lonely fortresses they pray to the false moon. And they bind themselves together with an oath, and with a great curse. And of their malice they conspire together, and they have power, and mastery, and in their cauldrons do they brew the harsh wine of delusion, mingled with the poison of their selfishness.

[ilopisara]

21.01. 21:25 | Ilo Pisara vs HC LEV BOHEMIA 7 - 3

Ladies and gentlemen, gather 'round as I regale you with the tale of our latest ice capade where we turned HC LEV BOHEMIA into mere practice pylons! Our glorious team, Ilo Pisara, emerged victorious in a 7-3 drubbing that had more highlights than my secretary's hairdo. Let's talk about Teppo Winnipeg – this defensive dynamo was dishing out assists like they were going out of style. Five assists? The man must have thought he was playing Oprah handing out gifts to her audience. And those interceptions? Seven times he said "Yoink!" and snatched dreams right from under their noses! Sami Noddy on the left wing – oh boy! With five goals to his name, Sami wasn't just grinding; he was pulverizing them into dust. Sure, ten giveaways might suggest butterfingers but when you score half your team’s total goals... all is forgiven! Jani Saari at center played like a maestro conducting an orchestra of chaos for the opposition—two goals plus five helpers while juggling possession longer than a street performer on a unicycle. And Powder Barrel between the pipes... well let's say if saving pucks were relationships—he'd be single. But hey, four saves are better than none; even Swiss cheese can stop something occasionally. Remember folks: after our last heart-wrenching loss against Duunarit by one measly goal—we've bounced back harder than bad checks in this league. Onward Ilo Pisara—to future games where we aim not just to win but dominate with panache!

[greetings-inferiors]

I genuinely hate blind pests so fucking much

I just want to play the funny haha instakill lady

But noooooo

Sure I can instakill one, but then two more spawn like a hydra

They didn’t even need to nerf loader, the blind pests just stop her from playing the game

This is the third eclipse run I’ve lost to these things

Why do they do so much damage

Like yeah I’m sorry I didn’t find shurikens or a ukelele yeah my fault

The other melee survivors don’t have a problem with them, mercenary is so damn mobile that he can just avoid them or quickly zip up to kill them and acrid isn’t even really a melee survivor, just right click, but loader? Her base mobility is actually pretty shit, and the only ranged attacks she has is her pylon, which isn’t quick enough, or her spiked fists, which you need to conserve for any scrap of mobility. Until you find shurikens or uke or anything to help out with your abysmal range, a few glacial blind pests spawning is a death sentence.

I’m gonna play railgunner (the ranged funny haha instakill lady) just to take my anger out on them

[elder-sister]

Requested by @pylon-lover; #25 on Playlist 2: Hey Kids by Molina!

Lady Light presiding over her kingdom, not knowing what's about to come.

Redoing the playlist thing!

Pick a number (1-51, or if you want more serious/dark drawings, 1-37.), I'll pick the corresponding song and draw character I associate with it!!!

Songs done;

Playlist 1:

#8: bad idea right? - Kumatora

Edit: also, please tell me which playlist it is (playlist 1 for the longer one, playlist 2 for the more serious one.)

[jordankennedy]

mag 144 but this time its a hot girl instead of a numbers station

[ourladyofomega]

Sticker set.

[babydxhl]

She watches him advance with her hands deep in her pockets, the front bumper of the idling town car a solid band across her shoulder blades. Small lady. On another night — a brighter night, one filled with the dancing colours of the bar and the high-pitched laughter of the midtown streets — that much might have earned a throwaway, cutting remark like fingernails quick in a cut. On another night it might have gotten only a scoff.

But on this night, it gets no reaction at all. Her head tilts a little, inspecting him, expression neutral. Dolly, Waylon says when she does this, when she's annoyed with him and feigning moral superiority, when he wants to get a rise.

They — she and the driver, the bodyguard waiting patiently in the car's back seat — had been waiting for a drop, a quick hand-off of intel, for almost two hours before Mary had decided enough was enough, phoned it in to a few of the older Vice cops on her payroll. The guy would get a good shake-down, spend a few hours in a freezing holding cell, and she'd send someone to pick him up for a chat the next morning, figure out why the fuck he hadn't showed. Afterwards she had thrown the burner phone hard enough at one of the pylons that the cheap plastic had shattered into a dozen metallic pieces in the dirt.

A moment of air. A moment of watching the night, listening to the approach of sirens before vanishing. But even now, with the approach of this new stranger, she can feel her plans beginning to shift between her fingers. She wants a cigarette.

"Aren't we all pretending?" she says. True enough in Gotham. "You tell me." The weight of cold metal, a tiny pistol tailor-made for her palm, is a comfort in her coat pocket. "What am I pretending to be?"

@babydxhl :// { sent "🌃 midnight in a busy city" and got a starter }

{ from this meme / not accepting atm }

—☾—

Gotham is a midnight city. It pitches the wet refuge from its bloody sky onto oil-slick streets, and the streets reflect more blood, the sky more oil. Gotham, the shard between a rock and a hard place, where hell is above as so below. And from within that seam, the Ren can knit itself into shape, can thrive again. Guide him, though he knows he's close.

In turn, the stranger can weave the Ren’s through big city, amble, unknown, with nobody wanting to know him or look his way. And so many faces, so many plates to scan for information. But nobody has a look of knowing. Nobody knows where Pryde lives now.

Keeping close to the elevated rail, the stranger wanders. His gloved fists crammed in the pockets of a rain slicker with the hood up, boots trudging until the crowd thins out, and the umbrellas go down. Signs of people go down. The street numbers go up. Electrical towers rise. A power plant emerges over concrete, a palace of night.

Hark. The Ren swells behind the stranger's eyes. A child.

The stranger watches a small figure wavering in the near distance under the half-moon-bodied overpass.

"Mm. Bad news."

But the Ren: We want to see if there is a connection. We want to know.

So the stranger approaches, though he keeps his distance. He can make out a car down the block through stretch-mesh sheets of rain. Dark. Tinted windows. Behind it, his van. The dark car and the child in the way. Sirens wailing much too close.

"Hm." He studies the child. "Is that," a pause. "Your car, small lady?"

A child would not stand like that. A child would not look at him with any sense of irony, its mouth puckered at the corners. A child would not bear the marks of discontent on its face. Marks such as those took years to take hold by hook and crook. This child had lived a little. This child with brilliantine locks that made her glow, a votive struggling in the storm, a ghost dressed as a doll. Her face didn't fit the plate.

The stranger, a solid shade, one with the pillar. His face a plate of stone, a nose belonged to antiquity, the eyes flaring beneath, lit by some buried Zoroastrian flame.

"Mm." He swallows, his throat pulsing, his voice grating through, deep, broad, overlaid with gravel. "Are you pretending?"

[bruh-changbin]

pleasure over pain (teaser)

part 2 to invasion of privacy

pairing: roommate!heeseung x afab reader

genre: smut, some angst, just over all stupidity (minors dni)

word count: TBD, approx. 6k

synopsis: after being subjected to listening to you bring a guy home, heeseung's forced to face how he feels about you. with some questionable advice from his friends, he finally begins to formulate a plan on how to talk to you without holing up

posting: october 19

a/n: HELLOOOO tumblr is being very weird rn and i can't tell if my tags aren't working or if i'm shadowbanned or if i'm just overreacting and everything's fine so i guess we'll see. i know lots of you have been waiting for the sister fic of invasion of privacy so here she is!!! i thank you all for being so patient 🤧🩹😸💗

tag list is open, send an ask, private message or comment to be added

jay and jake’s basement; dubiously nicknamed ‘the cave’ by sunghoon.

‘the cave’ was gifted this nickname because it looks exactly like one - dark grey walls with pathetic little foggy rectangles for windows and a musty odour that can still be detected over copious amounts of air freshener.

the layout is simple enough; two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and quite literally the most miserable living room in existence. said living room consists of 3 crusty corduroy couches that form a ‘u’ shape facing a tv exploding with a multitude of wires and gaming consoles. the coffee table is a slab of wood placed on top of some milk crates, and the only decoration is a pylon that jake stole on a drunken night out. it’s the perfect hang out spot.

despite all of this, jay and jake happened to score the best rental situation out of the four of them. heeseung’s isn’t bad since he lives with you of course. sunghoon, who left housing to the last minute, is stuck renting a spare bedroom in the basement of an old lady’s townhouse - whenever she sees him she pinches his cheeks and calls him ‘munchkin’.

the energy in the cave today is different than usual. heeseung’s in the centre of the group therapy-esque semi-circle his friends have formed around him on the couches. jay and sunghoon stare at him in anticipation while jake fiddles with the fraying edge of the couch, clearly wishing they were playing video games or smoking weed instead.

“so,” jay starts after the four boys had been sitting in silence for several moments, “what’s going on heeseung?”

ah yes, the emergency text heeseung sent in the groupchat after his conversation with you this morning. where does he even begin?

“it’s about y/n…”

jake’s interest is piqued now, his head snapping up at the mention of girl talk.

jay speaks up, “what about y/n?”

“oh my god, did you two finally fuck? LETS GOOOO HEE!” this coming from jake, who’s about to start jumping up and down on the couch while sunghoon whoops in celebration.

“no, no, no! we didn’t… fuck” heeseung prefers saying ‘make love’ or ‘hook up’, he things ‘fuck’ is too vulgar and not romantic in the slightest.

“oh,” jake mutters, clearly disappointed.

“you know heeseung i don’t know why you get so flustered around her. it’s clear she likes you” jay folds his arms across his chest, making him look eerily similar to a suburban dad who loves golf.

“she likes me as a friend, nothing more.”

sunghoon furrows his brows, “what’s wrong with that?”

jake scoffs, “sunghoon, where have you been? heeseung likes y/n… more than a friend kind of like, you know?”

sunghoon raises his hands in defence, then offers his two cents: “why don’t you just take the horse by the reigns and make the first move?”

“i don’t know… i feel like she’ll think i’m a loser when she finds out that…” heeseung trails off.

“that you’re a virgin” jay finishes for him.

[wildbeautifuldamned]

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