#quil with the excellently long name

[totchipanda]

Emberlings, where you at! Have you read or are reading Heir? We must discuss!

[generallybrontidefeelings]

Stressed

Rating: NC-17

A/N: Brought to you by this post. I'm tired and sleepy and don't want to make any decisions. The degree is an actual MS you can get from American University in DC. U of Tennessee’s anthropology dept. hosts what’s called a body farm. It's a lab for forensic pathology students. Do NOT I repeat DO NOT look up pictures.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader, Marcus Pike x you

Summary: Marcus Pike is an associate faculty member at your forensics college. You ask him to be your second reader for your thesis, even though you have a huge crush on him. Nothing is better than something, right? By the time you pass your exam, you're so pent up you could scream.

Warnings: cadaver talk, pining, age difference, some power dynamics?, annoying college talk, sex, dirty talk, a God awful metaphor curtesy of Blanche Devereaux, 39

“Take a deep breath.”

You huff in a small shallow breath. Then let it out, and take in a longer, fuller one.

“Now let it out.” You let your cheeks puff up as cool air streams past your lips. “You’ve made huge improvements, and you’ve studied hard. The paper exam will be easy, and the oral will be a cinch.”

You gulp. “I know. It’s just...pre-show jitters, you know?”

He gives you a full smile, and flips the document shut. You hand him the binder clip, accidentally brushing his fingers when you do.

"Anything else I can do for you?"

You swallow, fiddling with your paper edge. God you feel like a twelve year old. You're fucking twenty-seven and about to apply for the FBI, why are you such a sap? He’s not available. Not even remotely. He will be gone in a year, back to the Bureau. There is no reason to nurse a crush. And you curse yourself for asking a man you’re attracted to - you, idiot, idiot! - to spend more time with you. Even if it is reading your dull chapter.

"No, I have everything I need, thanks."

"Then scoot. I have to read like...thirty pages of Tanner's chapter before he gets here."

You pull your bag to your shoulder. "you're not going to get that far," you scoff. The tensing in your shoulders relaxes a little when you stand to leave.

"We'll see," he says. He opens the door of his office for you. You glance back once more, and he's still in the doorway watching you go. "See you tomorrow."

"See you." Your mind swirls back and forth between thoughts of Mr. Pike, your thesis, Pike, your oral defence, your paper exam in two days, Marcus crossing his ankles in his reading chair. And you walk. Straight ahead, not looking back. But when you get to the door handle you turn around. And he's still there. Watching.

You've never been so stressed in your life.

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

You met Marcus Pike on a muggy afternoon in August deep in the heart of Tennessee. The air warped off the pavement as you drove together to the School of Anthropology to visit your cadaver lying relaxed and prostrate in the middle of a fenced field. The air is already warm, then lightning flashes in the clouds to your right, and plopping rain drops scatter across the lawn, and dampens A-0017’s second hand suit. His raisinette hands lie against the grass almost like he’s communing with the earth. You watched the water hit his face, and permanently closed eyelids, and shaved head.

You had no business being so fidgety while kneeling next to a cadaver. Agent Marcus Pike and the facility director chat a couple feet away, leaving you to your business with A-0017. Pike had never been to the school’s mysterious forensics lab, even though he had plenty of time to when he was earning his own masters. That’s what he said in his email to you three weeks earlier. He’d heard a first-year student was running a fibrous material experiment and asked to tag along. And you said yes. Why not? He was faculty. It wasn’t unheard of. His email was so polite too, letting you know if you weren’t comfortable he understood. Pike. The name rattled a memory somewhere. So you emailed him back, and the next morning he sent you his itinerary: he would meet you in Tennessee. He’d even pay for the rental car.

You sent your advisor a quick text to ask if he was ‘crazy.’ She’d sent back the laughing emoji. No, she said, Marcus Pike isn’t a crazy. You’ll like him.

You did like him. He was waiting for you at the Hertz desk, and heat licked up your skin when you realized - he was striking. He was the type of man you’d make eyes at in a bar without any hope of even getting a number. His brown hair was neatly trimmed, and he had a softness brought on by a light scruff that didn’t hide his dimples. You barely registered that he was apologizing for not getting to introduce himself before flying out, but promised he was who he said he was. Even pulled out his credentials.

“Bureau?” you said to his badge. “I thought you were an associate professor?” You want to smack yourself.

Oh, “I am,” he replied. He dug in his wallet and pulled out a campus ID that matched yours. “I’m taking an interim year. I thought teaching would be a nice way to ease into DC life.”

Now he was here, sweating under the storm clouds while watching you unbutton A-0017’s shirt, and half listening to the director tell him all about how they kept the lawn looking green despite, ahem, fluids. You sternly told A-0017 to be on their best behavior while you pulled their shirt back to examine some fiber swatches stapled to his rubbery chest.

On the flight back Pike asked you all about your thesis plans. You stuttered as you began. He waited, patient. You were writing on how the FBI could contribute to cultural repatriation efforts internationally by returning art pieces. Do you know what it could do to boost scholarly opportunities? The doors it could open! Why put it in cold storage when it could revitalize movements? Art breathes, after all. You were exhausted by the time the plane landed. Both from answering questions, and from keeping a steadily building tension under wraps. You hoped he didn’t notice how you crossed your legs.

“I’d love to read it.” He handed your backpack down from the overhead bin.

“Maybe you should be my second reader.” You got serious when his face perked up. “I still need one.”

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

That was nine months ago.

Your exams are in a week, and instead of thinking about preparing, all you can think of is that once everything is turned in, you probably won’t see Marcus again. He’s been your anchor these last months, and you’ve gotten used to his solid presence and encouraging platitudes. You cup your hot cheeks because it’s a dirty thought.

He lets you work in his office for a couple hours a week every week. The crammed little space is tight quarters, but he makes room for your laptop anyway. Sometimes you worked together heads bent for full time. Sometimes he read pages from your thesis, and you help him grade some papers from his first-year art history course. And sometimes you drink three pm coffee together and don’t work at all. It’s your favorite time of the week. The glow his praise gives you is embarrassing. And he’s an easy companion - nope, colleague. Your heart beats and your mouth waters every time you’re fifteen feet from his office door. The cold door knob jolts you took. You harbor a secret. Keep it warm in your belly. It swirls hungrily deep in you.

But now it’s a problem. You’re so distracted. Every time you leave his office, you’re tense from want. Your body is already over-caffeinated and achy from sitting in hard library chairs so long. But you keep going. Every time an anxious heat lights up the alarms in your head your instinct is to ask him what to do. You have to rest your hands in your head and remind yourself: he isn’t your babysitter, he’s a grown man who doesn’t have boundless time to tell you what to do. You have to figure it out yourself. Even if you really just want him to tell you what this or that section needs, is the title here misleading, is it lunch time, do you think the tone here is condescending?

What do you think? What do you want it to look like?

You think you want to grab his dumb button down collars and bite his lip. You want it to look flushed and tousled and desperate. You want to ride him in his reading chair with the door locked. It just isn’t fair.

The night before your first exam you take z-quil, drink lavender tea, and read a chapter of your favorite book to relax. Your phone buzzes at nine. It’s Marcus: good luck! You’re going to do great! Well. Better take some more Z-quill now that your heart is palpitating.

You pass both tests in excellent standing - MS in International Relations: complete. Pike attends the oral exam. Your skin goes hot when he smiles at you when the committee declares you exceed expectations. He invites you for a celebratory drink in the next couple days, which means you have two days to sternly wrangle your crush back into the dirty corner she came from.

You fail miserably.

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

“Look,” he says, setting his beer down on the glass bar counter. “I know it’s not my business, but you still look stressed out. Are your grades bothering you?”

The rim of your gin and tonic is wet with condensation from where your finger circles it. “No, they’re great.”

He bumps your shoulder with his. “Then what’s the damage? You’re jumpier than a…” he trails off thinking a good metaphor. He squints at you a little.

“A virgin at a prison rodeo?” you supply. He inhales sharply, eyes wide. “You can laugh.”

“I didn’t know you watched ‘The Golden Girls,” he says. His tone is admiring. “I was going to say jumpier than a graduate student giving their defense.” You purse your lips when he raises his eyebrows at you. “Can I help at all?”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he takes another sip of his beer. The soft orange lights in the bar spill around his jaw and throat, they flicker in his irises. His face in three quarter profile is august. You’re utterly exhausted from the polite ‘student mentor’ dance you’ve had to do for months while keeping your desire at bay. And more than that, you didn’t want to answer. You wanted to show him and let him decide. The sultry washboard and piano music give you that last boost.

You make sure he’s watching you, then you slowly reach out and wrap your fingers around his wrist.

Then you wait.

Marcus pauses from lifting his beer bottle, eyes glued to your hand on his wrist. It’s petite against him. He stares at your baby blue fingernails pairing beautifully with his Stirling watch - and he feels himself harden.

All the skin on your body stands at attention when he meets your eyes. Everything in them tells you he wants you just as bad. There’s a hesitant curve above his eyebrow though. You get it. You were his student - he’s such a sweet man he wouldn’t even dream of using a power dynamic like that to get laid. Your breath comes in short heaves.

“The semester ended thirty-six minutes ago,” you say over the music. He takes a deep breath. You aren’t his student anymore. Not according to the school, anyway.

You want him to decide. If he doesn’t, you’ll go home and fall apart under your fingertips thinking about how hot it would have been to lift your dress and sit on his cock while wearing your thigh highs.

“Do you want to leave?” You nod, resisting the urge to bite your lip.

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

Marcus’s apartment is homey. Streetlights flood the floor of the living room through the street facing windows. You turn this way and that to inspect the dark areas that look like bookshelves while he hangs up your coat. You squeeze your hands at your sides, because this is happening. You’re in his house. The hardwood floor is cold under your stocking feet.

You jump when he puts his hands on your shoulders from behind you, holding you a mere inch from his body. You bite your lip when his nose bumps into the back of your head.

“Are you sure about this?”

“You already asked me that,” you reply, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. You want so badly to tell him to tell you what to do. That you don’t want to make any decisions. Brain is worn out. That you want to please him, and not think. Oh, to be a freshmen simply sponging up information.

“I know,” he slides his hands to your biceps and turns you around. “I can check in again, can’t I? He cups your face when you nod. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” you have to stop yourself from saying something incriminating, like mister Pike, or sir, or professor.

You clutch the front of his button down to anchor yourself when his lips brush yours. His mouth is soft. It coaxes you to open so he can dive into you, his tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you respond by pressing into him. You stay pliant under him, letting him lead. Your legs feel on the verge of collapse when you break away. You can’t stand it anymore.

“I want to suck your cock.”

Both of you freeze. For a second you wonder if you’ve given him a heart attack. But you watched his thighs on the car ride back and couldn’t stop thinking about kneeling between them. Your mouth waters. Marcus can’t breathe. He’s straining against his zipper. After your declaration he wants it too.

“Okay, honey,” he breathes. He brushes your ear with his thumb. “If that’s what you want, we’ll do that.”

He tries to draw you backward toward his room where he can turn on a lamp and properly pay tribute to your body, but you pull him back. You tug him to his mid-century armchair - he has the twin to it in his office. His mouth goes dry. You have to know. He looks into your face, and from the way you’ve averted your eyes, you know.

“Please?” you say. It sounds like a sob.

From this close you can smell the vanilla and bergamot of his soap. He sits, waiting for you. When you don’t move he holds his hand out for you to take.

“Come here, honey,” he draws you close. The top of your dress swings a little and he groans when he sees the break of your dress to what he thought were tights. Marcus studies your face in the second hand street light - your mouth parted, your eyes blown wide. Your hand in his is hot. “Hey, if this is overwhelming, or not what you want-”

“It is,” you correct him.

“Tell me what’s wrong then,” he requests. You feel pained. If you don’t say it now you never will.

“Tell me what to do.” Your head aches from the stress of carrying it for so long. “I’ve had to make my own decisions for months, and I don’t want to anymore. Just - for five minutes-” you bring your hands to your cheeks and press them against your hot skin. You watch as he realizes what you want. He nods in slow motion.

“Okay,” he says. “Kneel for me.” He gets even harder when you sink to your knees. Your hands rest in your lap. Waiting. He can’t believe this is happening. Thank goodness he’s going back to the Bureau in three months. He couldn’t face the other faculty - fuck, your advisor - after this. Leaning forward he cups your chin and kisses you. You squeeze your thighs together. He kisses your ear and says lowly, “take my cock out, honey. I want you to suck me off.”

When you take him in your mouth as far as you can, you look into his face. His mouth has fallen open. His ears have turned red from flushing. It’s indescribable. It makes your mouth water further around his hard length. It’s heavy on your tongue. You move up and down his shaft leisurely, trying to savor it. Letting saliva run down onto his skin as your tongue works the spongy head. You reach up to work the base with your hand when he tells you ‘no’.

“Just your mouth.” Fuck. You moan around him as a ripple pulls from deep in your core. The vibrations of you moaning make him jolt and heave. For a few moments he apologies while you breathe deeply, then resume. You take a mouthful of him. It’s feasting. It’s mindless.

His fingers brush the side of your face, and tenderly cups the back of your head. You want to make him understand this is what you want. So you slide down as far as you can comfortably, and wait. Swallowing thickly around his length

“Fuck, honey,” he groans. He gets it, taking both hands and moving your head the pace he wants. You can tell he hasn’t been asked for this often. Maybe ever. You close your eyes and just feel. His cock filling your mouth. Aches forming around your jaw. Tears leaking out of your eyes from your concentration. Your pussy wetting through your underwear. Marcus pulling your hair. You swallow hard, then he stops. And pushes you off.

You whine in protest.

“I hear you, honey,” he says softly. His voice is hoarse. “Another time. I want you to unwind right now.” Your pussy clenches.

He takes you back to his bedroom and helps you undress. He lifts your dress over your head, and kneels to help you out of your thigh highs. One day, if you’ll let him, he’ll fuck you with them on, but he likes to see all of a woman the first time he does anything to her. He kisses the bit of skin above the waistband of your panties before standing to kiss your lips. Your help him push them down your hips until they fall to your ankles. The soft gasp he lets out at the sight of your underwear and bare body is nothing short of gluttonous.

“Lay down.”

He strips while you watch. He does it without taking his eyes off of you. There’s hunger in them. This man has an appetite, you know it. The fabric rustles pleasantly between the sound of both of you breathing. Far away, ambulance sirens blare in another neighborhood, but here in his apartment the wet sound of cars passing in the rainy street are the closest accompaniment.

“I want to touch you here,” he tells you, palming your sex and making you squeak. It’s so forward.

“Do it,” you breathe, and part your legs further for him. He leans in and kisses your temple, murmuring ‘good girl’ and you swear you could black out.

You’re already so wet when his fingers part your folds to greet the new territory. “Did sucking my cock get you wet?” He sounds amazed. He tastes one fingertip before putting it back to tease your folds. “I wonder how wet you would be just holding it in your mouth while you read.”

“Oh-” a ripple works down your spine. He smirks. The tip of his finger brushes just inside your lips to tease your entrance.

“I’m going to put my fingers in you. You,” he pauses to kiss your cheek, “relax. You earned it.” He rubs his nose up and down yours, and you nudge him back just as he slips one long finger into you. You’re glad he’s being sweet like this. It’s the perfect blend of firmness and care. You want him to dominate you one someday, maybe, but right here and now, the combination of his low voice and steady fingers is ideal. Marcus kisses your cheek and mouth as he works his finger in and out of you. It’s thick and reaches further than you ever could. You spread your legs even further to tell him, more.

Without removing his hand he moves down your body to lick your clit. He sucks and flicks it as he coaxes more wetness out of your leaking cunt. Carefully he pulls the finger out and presses his wet hand to the inside of your thigh to keep you open. He laps into you, covering the muscles with lubricant because you’re going to need it. You see his face just as he decides you’re ready; it’s contemplative, like he’s concentrating. Then he slides two fingers deep into you.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so fucking good,” your voice crescendos. You reach for his shoulder as he comes up to lie beside you. His skin is warm under your palm. You buck your hips looking for something else, seeking, wanting-

“Stay still.” You still immediately. “Just feel it, baby. I want you to be ready for me.” You know what he means. His cock is thick and smearing against your hip. He was big in your mouth, he’s going to be big while pushing into you. His fingers keep moving while he kisses the tips of your nipples. When he takes one between his teeth and tugs you break. Your mouth opens, and your legs clamp reflexively around his wrist. Your pussy gushes around his fingers - you can feel it. You can feel how his movements change from a drag as a slide. He keeps pumping. He doesn’t give up until he’s sure you’ve felt every aftershock. He’d love to take his time and work a third in one day - if he can - but tonight, he wants to move on. After you swallowed his cock in his sitting room chair he’s been thinking of rewarding you.

You feel him slip his fingers out, and roll away to the nightstand. He looks back at you, and his eyes soften a little before he asks, “do you want me to use a condom?”

“No,” you say and reach for his bicep to pull him back toward you. He comes willingly. “I have an IUD. And I’m clean.” He smiles, flinging the packet over his shoulder. It makes you giggle, but it sounds hysterical to your ears. You watch him reach down and pump his cock with the hand that was just inside you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“Look at me,” he orders. Your eyes snap open. Marcus crashes his lips on yours. The hand not dripping from your cunt cups the back of your head. “I want to see your eyes while I fuck you.”

His blunt head breaks into you, you lose all thought. He sinks further in, until you’re squirming on his length because he’s stretching you. You suck air in and will your body will stay still like he suggested for his fingers. You look into Marcus’s eyes the whole time, trying to tell him how good he feels. You can’t make the words leave your throat. He pulls your head to him, kisses your mouth until you compose yourself and lie still. Then he gets to work. The breadth of him stills you anew. For the first time in months you fully relax, hardly making a sound as he thrusts steadily. You stare into Marcus’s eyes while your mouth falls open as he slides into you, and listen to the wet sounds of your pussy and the bed frame creaking.

Then he starts talking.

“Do you know how good you look in those blue trousers? I want to grab your ass every time you wear them,” he rumbles. His pace picks up a hair, and he feels harder in you somehow. He drops to his forearm. “I love watching it when you walk out of my office.” You knew it. “And that damn cardigan you never wear a shirt under? Those buttons slip right open, don’t they?” He punctuates it with a deep thrust that makes you squeak. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Wear it over for dinner. I’ll bite your tits through it.”

He fucks into you harder, sending shivers up your spine with every thrust. It moves you up the bed until you have to reach a hand up and press back against the headboard. You clutch him with the other, looping around his shoulder to feel the muscles in his arms pull and tug as he moves in you, working you up to another release Soon enough, the coil in your belly tightens and he reaches to worry your clit with deft fingers. His eyes never leave you. You think this man could make the hardest fuck feel like making love.

“I need more,” you tell him. You’re too embarrassed to ask for what you want. A tear leaks out of your eye because his thickness is so good, but you want something else too. You always underestimate him. He grins because he knows - he’s a detective. He figured it out. He leans down to rest his forehead on your temple.

“You’re doing so well,” he says. You arch up into him, your breasts brush his chest. “Your wet pussy is so sweet. It’s taking me so well. Are you gonna be respectful? Gonna listen?” You have to hold your breath as your hips tense. “Be good and come on my cock.” Oh fuck. “Say it.”

Your voice is wet with joy. “Yes, sir.”

“Such a good girl.”

Sparks lick up your back and through your cunt, forcing Marcus deeper into when you lift your lips. He slows to let you enjoy all your release. He kisses your neck, your jaw, your lips. Then when he hears your content sigh, he buries his face in your neck and chases his own release. He comes with an accompanying rumble from deep in his chest. You moan in return and lift your lips to catch him as he slumps, barely holding his weight off of you.

Water runs in the washroom as you tug the sheets back. The light clicks off, and Marcus appears with a washcloth. His dimple appears when you lean back and let him clean your tender flesh. He sits on the edge of the bed next to your hips, running his knuckles on the soft side of your breast.

“Stay the night,” says. “I’ll cook you breakfast.”

“Hm,” you say, mock contemplative. You run your fingers down his chest. He preens under the affection. “I will. I feel really good.” Your cheeks tingle at the admission. He smiles wide and bright.

He comes back from putting the cloth in the hamper. You roll so he can run his hands the length of your side

“Thank you,” you murmur. He lifts his face from where he’s been peppering your waist with kisses. His brow is furrowed in amused confusion. “For being good to me. For caring about what happened to me.” You’ll tell him the horror stories your friends have from their college another time.

He sighs and cups your cheek. “I like doing it. You’re bright. Supporting you is a privilege. Especially when I know that brain is going to put us all to shame one day.” You could cry.

“I’ve liked you since the body farm,” you admit. He wrinkles his nose. “I know. Not very romantic.”

“I liked you since you thought my campus ID was more official than my FBI badge.”

“I didn’t think that!”

“Get some sleep,” he says. A wicked glint comes to his eye. “I am going to wear you out before lunch.” You wiggle to get comfortable in the sheets and he curls over your back to hold you to his chest.

Orange light peeks through the gap in his blackout drapes. You eye him over your shoulder then settle into the pillow. All the tension in your shoulders is gone.

part 2

[thiswasinevitableid]

The Bachelor

A birthday gift for @bellafarallones. Part 3 of the TAZ Amnesty Bachelor AU (sternclay and indruck were the first two) AKA what Vincent was up to. Apollo is from my Amnesty Super Hero fic

The entire United States to choose from and this is the best the producers could find? He’s going to win this thing with his eyes closed. Then it’s a hop, skip, and jump to some endorsement deals, his own spin-off, and then a prime time hosting slot. 

Oh, and a marriage. But that should be easy; any guy would count themselves lucky to have him.

God, that pool will be great for Instagram shots. Luckily the producers knew their biggest draw when they saw him and agreed to let Indrid continue his work as Apollo’s personal photographer and assistant. He may be a disappointment to the Cold name, but he’s good with a camera and has no interest in being recorded for the show. And if, god forbid, Apollo comes down with a cold during filming, someone will be there to bring him Day-Quil. After all, if he lets anyone see Apollo in a vulnerable state, Apollo will just have to send their father an email about Indrid’s latest failure. 

“It’s times like this we should be grateful for our genes. I know I am.” He glances at his twin, pausing his gaze on his silver hair and tattoos.

“You dye yours too. And I think there are more than a few handsome men here, so don’t get cocky.” His attention shifts for a moment as a man dressed like Smokey the Bear passes them.

“Oh come on, even with those pretentious glasses you can see I’m a cut above.”

“If you say so. And if you want to do shots of you in your suit, we need to start soon, so kindly find your room so we can get on with it.”

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Not only is this easy, it’s fun. The cameras love him, and most of his fellow contestants yield to him after one remark. He’s been watching Vincent, the bachelor for this season, closely during group interactions, and it’s clear he’s already developing favorites. Annoyingly, two in particular--Joseph and Duck--are more inclined to push back at him. But it doesn’t matter; everyone has weaknesses. He’ll find theirs soon. 

Tonight is his first formal date with Vincent. They’re at an Italian place with good lighting, and Vincent is perfectly nice to look at in his lavender dress shirt and silver tie. Apollo’s done his research; Vincent is ten years his senior, took an early retirement from a position in the department of defense and now runs two consulting businesses; one for banks and museums and one for domestic violence shelters, health clinics, and other places where doing good draws enemies. The first business subsidizes the second. Vincent enjoys tennis and running, has no Instagram presence, and is an only child. 

Apollo has his plan of attack; the trouble is, Vincent isn’t interested in sitting there and being flattered (though he does blush when Apollo says the tie makes the grey in his hair look all the more distinguished). He wants to know about Apollo. 

“When you’re not taking photos, what do you like to do?”

He doesn’t correct him about who takes the pictures, smiles, “I, ah, I go to the gym.”

“I have to say it shows.” Vincent winks. It’s so corny, but Apollo can’t find it in him to hate it, “any sports, or just things like weights and cardio?”

‘

“No, but I played football in high school. I was star running back.”

“I played my freshman year, but baseball suited me better. So when you're not ‘pumping iron’, what do you do for fun?”

There is no answer that won’t make him look too shallow or too...no, he can’t even think about that option. Damn it, he must have a normal hobby. He hedges with the truth and hopes the editors cut it for time. 

“I like movies. I, ah, I’ve been working my way through the Criterion Collection of the birth of cinema  and it’s fascinating. Did you know there was a silent film heartthrob who predates Valentino?”

“Sessue Hayakawa?” 

“You know about him?” He leans forward.

“I read a biography of him last year that was riveting. I still have it if you’d like to borrow it.”

“Yes, yes absolutely. We, we could even watch some of his films together, and the ones they inspired, you know they, they…” 

Fuck, he’s acting like Indrid, bumping the table and yammering about things that will get him nowhere. He sits back, grabs his wine and sips to cover his error. 

“I’d like that.” Is all Vincent says as they’re entrees arrive. 

“Enough about me. I was reading about your business and, ah, well, how do you even do something like that?”

Vincent describes his process, how he picks clients and what he considers when evaluating a space. Apollo fully intends to zone out with a smile. 

He hangs on every word. All too soon, Vincent is asking for dessert. 

“Is your meal okay?”

Apollo looks at the plate of spaghetti carbonara he’s been poking at, not wanting to be caught in an ugly expression while eating, “Yes, it’s delicious.”

Dessert arrives in the shape of a chocolate lava cake with sparklers, a detail which delights Vincent. It’s such a ridiculous thing to smile over. Apollo smiles back, and let’s his date feed him a bite of cake. 

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Was the beach trip self-serving on Vincent’s part? Indeed. Has it also given him valuable intel? Yes, yes it has.

He now knows who’s going home next; Nico is such a fraternity-bred asshole that he should have sent him packing weeks ago. Honestly, all his comments about Barclay this morning were awful. Barclay is masculine and sweet in a way Vincent adores. He even helped Joseph during the cliff dive, which bumps him even higher in Vincent’s eyes. 

Joseph stealthily knocking Nico’s hat from his head with a frisbee was also a high point; goodness, Joseph reminds him of men he used to work with who he never, ever, admitted his feelings for (they were often his subordinates, and he prided himself on keeping a safe department). 

Then there’s Duck. Vincent would like an award for not spending the morning asking to rub sunblock on those arms. He’s been treated to a closer view of them the last half-hour, Duck sitting next to him in a Hawaiin shirt that shows off his biceps. The ranger just now excused himself (“gotta give the other fellas a chance to impress”) to go keep Indrid company during dinner. Polite and friendly to the core, that’s his favorite bear. 

And then there’s-

“Hiiii Vincent.” Apollo slides into the spot closest to him on the restaurant deck. 

Were Vincent choosing for an evening, Apollo would edge out even Duck. He suspects getting the younger man under some comfortable sheets to praise and fuss over him would be very nice indeed. Apollo may posture and insist to the others that he’s the dominant one in the bedroom, but this isn’t Vincent’s first go around; he knows someone who longs to be spoiled and submissive when he sees one.

But he’s here to choose his husband, not a hook-up. 

He initially assumed he’d send Apollo home after their first formal date. He knows these shows sometimes attract people who want their fifteen minutes of fame, and Apollo is one of them. But then his meticulously built image cracked, just a little, as they talked, and Vincent is so taken by what he saw that he can’t bring himself to send him home yet.

The older man slides the younger one an oyster, “try one, they’re local.”

There’s no appealing way to eat an oyster on camera, but Apollo lifts a shell and downs one. He does an excellent job masking his grimace.

“Another? Or would you like one of the grilled scallops instead?”

He watches him run a calculus. Then he slides his sunglasses down, “Scallop, please.”

Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

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

“Indrid, Vincent hates me!”

Indrid blinks at him.

“One of the other contestants got them to show him a bunch of footage of me putting the other men in their place and now he hates me.” Genuine panic rises in his chest as Indrid gives him absolutely no expression to work from. 

“What do you want me to do?”

“Talk to him, tell him that I’m not-”

“What you actually are? Vincent is here to choose a spouse; he has a right to not choose you.”

“Fix. It.” Apollo snarls.

His twin stands, regarding him from across the rug, “I will speak to Vincent, on one condition; you do not go after Duck ever again.”

“Traitor, you should be on my side, not his.”

Indrid shrugs, sits back down and picks up his book. 

“I’ll, I’ll tell father you’re sabotaging me.”

“You think he’ll like to hear you’re being out done by his inferior son?”

“....Damn it. Fine, fine. I’ll leave Newton alone. Now go.”

His brother has the audacity to grin at him, “I will, right after I finish this chapter.”

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

He’s sitting with Duck and Joseph, asking their opinion, when Indrid enters the living room.

“Did Apollo send you?” Vincent picks lint from his cardigan. 

“Yes. He’s asking me to intercede on his behalf since he thinks you hate him.”

“Oh dear, I don’t hate him. I just said I was disappointed in him.”

“Ah” Indrid perches on the arm of Duck’s chair, “That’s our father’s code for ‘I hate you.”

“Jesus.” Duck mutters.

“I suspected he was exaggerating. That’s why I agreed to talk to you; I’ve learned it’s best to verify anything  he tells me. In truth, I can’t do much for him.  If it’s not obvious, he takes after our father and our father is...not a good man. We each survive him in our own way; Apollo chose to mold himself into what he demanded we be. That does not excuse him. But perhaps it puts him into perspective.”

Vincent knows he’s not sending Apollo home this week; it’s still Nico’s turn. And his heart that taps his chest to ask, “Do you think he could change?”

Indrid says nothing. Duck is keeping his mouth shut, but his frown suggests his answer.

“This is not to defend him but” Joseph looks at Indrid, “you grew up under the same conditions and chose not to replicate them. That suggests it’s possible.”

“I just didn’t want to end up like him.” Indrid murmurs.

“And ‘possible’ don’t mean probable.” Duck adds.

Vincent rubs his temples, “You’re right. All of you. I...I think I need some time to decide how many chances to be the person I think he can be I ought to give him.”

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

Apollo isn’t sure what to expect. The last time Vincent asked to see him, it was to scold him. Three guys have gone home since then, and he’s been fighting back his impulses to torment and gloat, focusing instead on  making Vincent like him instead of undermining the competition. 

The door opens on a room with a bed, lots of candles, and…

“Is that whale song?”

“Yes. I picked a ‘soothing’ playlist to fit the mood.” Vincent is in linen pants and a button up short sleeve, pats the bed with a smile, “I thought a nice massage might do you good. Non-sexual, of course” he tips his head at the camera.

Apollo isn’t shy. His thirst traps are legendary. But he lays on his stomach the instant he’s down to his underwear. Vincent hums as he starts on his shoulders, checking in now and then about pressure. It would be nice if Apollo’s skin weren’t starving for gentle touches. He keeps letting out pathetic sounds, almost like chirps, as Vincent rubs him down. 

Then the worst thing happens; he gets hard. At first he tries just keeping his hips still but no, just Vincent’s touch is enough. So he tenses in hopes of not giving it away.

“Is it too hard?”

“No, I’m fine.”

The hands leave his skin and he whines like a kicked dog. 

“Would you gentlemen let us do the rest in private? I’m sure the viewers get the point.”

There’s shuffling feet and shutting doors, and then a gentle hand rolling him onto his back.

“Apollo, what’s really--oh. That explains it.” 

He scrambles to sit up, tucking his knees to his chest, “I’m sorry, you said you didn’t want it to be sexual, I didn’t do this on purpose, I swear-”

The bed squeaks along with him as Vincent sits, “Sweetheart, I’m not going to get angry with you for this. If, um, if it helps to know, the feeling is very much mutual.”

It should feel like a triumph, but his cheeks burn and he hides his face against his knees. 

“Does that bother you?”

“No! No, not at all. I wouldn’t be wooing you on T.V if I didn’t think you were attractive. Blech, I sound like one of Indrid’s romance novels. Not, not that there’s anything wrong with Indrid...liking...silly things.”

Vincent cups his face and he leans into it, wants to glue his cheek there, “Apollo, I’ve noticed you’re trying to be less...unkind since our little talk.”

“I’m trying. It’s just so very, very hard.”

“I’ve also noticed you’re letting your persona go now and then. That means a lot to me. I’m not interested in the man you think you should be; I’m interested in the man you might become, the man you are when you stop trying to be better than everyone. I like that man, I’d like to get to know him more.”

Apollo shivers as Vincent kisses his forehead, “I’ll do my best.”

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

“The nerve of Joseph to say things like that to me!”

Indrid doesn’t look up, “It’s a genuine concern; Vincent is older, there will likely come a time when you’ll be the one caring for him. Are you certain you’ll have the patience for that? Be willing to put your needs and wants on hold for the sake of someone else?”

That’s really what would happen? He, he could do it for Vincent, he’s certain. But could he? What if it’s hard, without glory or gain, does that make it foolish?

He chases those thoughts in dizzying circles for fifteen minutes until they crash into the solution.

“I solved it! I don't have to worry about taking care of Vincent as he ages because he'll divorce me once I reach thirty-two.”

“That is the bleakest possible conclusion.” Indrid flips his sketchbook closed. 

“Just let me have this!”

“I hate that I even have to say this but Vincent is not our father.”

“Father said he was doing what any sensible man would do.”

Indrid levels him with an unusually firm stare, “Do you not want Vincent just because he’s over thirty-two?”

“Of course not! He’s great! I, brother for goodness sake just tell me how to care for him.”

“I literally cannot do that. You have to figure it out for yourself what care looks like for you.”

He’s about to repeat his demand when his phone rings. 

“Hi, Vincent.”

“I'm so sorry, but I have to break our date tonight. I was out for a run and twisted my ankle. I just got back from the doctor; he says I sprained it, so I might be on bed rest a few days.”

Perfect. 

“Oh no, I’m glad it’s not too serious. Would, ah, would it be alright if I came to see you?”

They agree on a time. Then he remembers the problem that preceded the phone call.

“What do I do?”

“What do you want to do for him? Or, if your positions were reversed, him to do for you?” Indrid asks flatly. 

“Call you so he doesn’t see me looking frail.”

“assume I am dead and thus no longer dealing with your nonsense”

“That’s not fair.”

Indrid flops on the bed, “I'm dead, Vincent is the only one who is coming to take care of you, what do you want him to do?”

“Tell me it’s okay and spend time with me and…”

Indrid grins, “And?”

“And watch PBS in bed.”

“It’s a start. Now please get out of my room.”

An hour later he pokes his head into Vincent’s bedroom; the older man is reclining, reading a John Grisham paperback in a robe that makes him look very suave

“How are you feeling?” He sits next to him, rubs his knee. .

 “Oh, I'm fine, just feel a little silly. It used to be I could twist an ankle and come up fine. Aging is quite the adventure.”

“I, um, I'm glad it wasn't too bad. I, I don't like the thought of you getting hurt. Bot that you'd be bad if you did! I accept that we are all very fragile beings trying not to die.

(Too dark, Cold,  pull it back).

“I mean, um, is there anything I can do to help?”

“I'd be happy to have you stay awhile.” Vincent takes his hand, let’s him lean on his shoulder as they talk. They’re midway through a discussion of famous film disasters when a small burst of black and red lands on the windowsill. He doesn’t catch his excitement in time and Vincent asks him what made him perk up. 

With a courage he did not know he possessed, he points to the bird.

“Oh! How beautiful. What kind is it?”

“Scarlet Tanager” he mumbles, “they’re not common here.”

“Do you know a lot about birds?”

He nods. 

“There are some feeders just on that balcony. And I think the binoculars a friend gave me last Christmas are still in the closet, if you’d like to use them.”

“I would” he stands, heart bubbling with terrifying warmth, “thank you, da--ah, dear.”

Mischief sweeps across Vincent’s face, “Is this where you tell me you’ve had lots of older boyfriends?”

“No. I, ah, I’ve made out some but I never dated.”

“Not even a highschool sweetheart?”

“My father made it so no teenager wanted to go near our house. Or us.” The binoculars are magnificent, the best money can buy, “I always wished I had a date to homecoming. It looked so fun, asking someone or getting asked and then having matching outfits and going out to dinner and taking pictures together. I even picked out an outfit just in case someone asked.  I think Indrid snuck out to meet his burnout--, um, meet his friends. I just sat in my room.”

“You could have asked someone yourself, couldn’t you?” Vincent makes room for him on the bed once more. 

 “And risk getting rejected in front of the whole school? No thank you.” He stares at the binoculars, afraid of what he might see if he turns, “I'm sorry, you don't need to hear all this. I’m supposed to be here taking care of you.”

Vincent opens his arms, pulling Apollo into a hug, “You know care can go two ways at once, right?”

“Not really” he mumbles into silver silk.

“Oh, sweetheart.” A kiss on his cheek, hands running soothingly up his sides, and those weak, silly noises slipping from his mouth. 

“I want it to be, I’ll be so good, I’ll take care of you, just please...please say you’d do the same?”

“Of course. That’s what love is.”

He tucks his face against Vincent’s neck, “Will you make fun of me if I say I’m frightened?”

“Never.”

“I don’t know how to do so much of this. I don’t know how much of me can change.”

“Are you willing to try?” Vincent kisses the shell of his ear.

“For you? Yes.”

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

“I choose…” Vincent looks between Apollo and Jonathan. Apollo cannot wait to spring into his arms. 

“I choose neither.”

“What!” Ned yells off camera.

“I’m sorry to both of you but I simply can’t. Jonathan, you’re a very nice man, but our connection is ultimately lacking. Apollo” Vincent meets his eyes and he forces his gaze to stay placid, “I care for you more than words can say. I know you’ve worked so very hard to change. I also know that people can easily revert to their old, cruel ways under pressure or difficulty. Marriage often involves those things, and I’m not sure you can be the man I need you to be. With those misgivings,  it wouldn’t be fair to propose to either of you. I hope you understand.”

They both say the do, shake hands, give hugs. And he does, he truly does understand. He understands that Vincent made the choice he had to, that even though he got better he is still a rotten, cruel creature who doesn’t deserve him. He was taught he deserved the world; some good that did him. It lost him the only person who might make the world a less miserable place. 

“Apollo!” Vincent jogs after him, catches up to him in an empty hall, “Apollo I-”

His heart is breaking; his old ways twine like vipers around it, “I, I’m glad you didn’t choose me you, you boring, pathetic man. No wonder you have to pay people to go on dates with you! I don’t need anyone, least of all you!”

Vincent steps back, face falling as Apollo storms off. The last thing he hears is, “And here I thought I made the wrong choice.”

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

He deletes his Instagram. Gets a job as a personal shopper. Goes to therapy because he will not let Indrid outshine him when it comes to unlearning how they were raised. 

It helps. Three months after the disastrous finale (for him, not for the network) he’s feeling, if not better, like he might actually try dating someone soon. He also writes two apology letters; one to Indrid and one to Vincent. Then he tears them both up and just tells Indrid that he’s trying to be less of an asshole and that he’s sorry for all the time he was one. He leaves Vincent alone; if he doesn’t want to see him, the least he can do is respect that.

It’s migration season, so he’s hiding in his favorite, super-secret birdwatching spot. It’s near a pond, so lots of birds come to drink and bathe, and he’s seen several on his list. 

Branches crack, sending nearby jays into a flap. Damn it, he’s never seen someone else here; the only person he ever told about it was-

“Hi, Apollo.”

“Vincent!” He almost falls off his stump, “how, why?”

“I’d been meaning to explore this spot ever since you spoke about it. But I, um, was also hoping I might see you in the process. Pathetic, as you might say.”

“I did, didn’t I.” Apollo stares up at him, clutching his binoculars so hard they might become disparate spyglasses, “Vincent, I am so, so, so very sorry for how I acted when we last saw each other. I was hurt, all I want is to make someone else hurt more so I stop feeling so vulnerable and powerless. I, I’ve been working on it in, in” he winces “therapy. You said once that you wanted to meet the man I might be. I realized I wanted to meet him to, to be him, not to win some show or even to get you to like me but just because I don’t want to be the other Apollo anymore.”

Vincent sits next to him, “You don’t give up, do you?”

“I, I just want to un-fuck what I can. I, how have you been?”

“Doing lots of thinking. I still know I made the right call not proposing during the finale. And that I’m ready to start dating again.”

“I hope whoever you go out with knows how lucky they are.” He says without any motive but the truth.

Vincent plucks a late-blooming wildflower and offers it to him, “It’s not a rose, but then again, this isn’t a proposal. It’s just a date, if you still want one.”

“So badly.” 

The older man leans in, kissing him softly as his spine turns to soup, “I’m looking forward to meeting the, um, latest version of you.” He snickers at his own phrasing.

Apollo pulls him into a second kiss, “Me too.”

[walaw717]

The dialect spoken by Appalachian people has been given a variety of names, the majority of them somewhat less than complimentary. Educated people who look with disfavor on this particular form of speech are perfectly honest in their belief that something called The English Language, which they conceive of as a completed work - unchanging and fixed for all time - has been taken and, through ignorance, shamefully distorted by the mountain folk.

The fact is that this is completely untrue. The folk speech of Appalachia instead of being called corrupt ought to be classified as archaic. Many of the expressions heard throughout the region today can be found in the centuries-old works of some of the greatest English authors: Alfred, Chaucer, Shakespeare, and the men who contributed to the King James version of the Bible, to cite but a few.

Most editors who work with older materials have long assumed the role of officious busy bodies: never so happy, apparently, as when engaged in tidying up spelling, modernizing grammar, and generally rendering whatever was written by various Britons in ages past into a colorless conformity with today's Standard English.

To this single characteristic of the editorial mind must be ascribed the almost total lack of knowledge on the part of most Americans that the language they speak was ever any different than it is right now. How many people know, for example, that when the poet Gray composed his famous "Elegy" his title for it was "An Elegy Wrote in a Country Churchyard?"

Southern mountain dialect (as the folk speech of Appalachia is called by linguists) is certainly archaic, but the general historical period it represents can be narrowed down to the days of the first Queen Elizabeth, and can be further particularized by saying that what is heard today is actually a sort of Scottish-flavored Elizabethan English. This is not to say that Chaucerian forms will not be heard in everyday use, and even an occasional Anglo-Saxon one as well. When we remember that the first white settlers in what is today Appalachia were the so-called Scotch-Irish along with some Palatine Germans, there is small wonder that the language has a Scottish tinge; the remarkable thing is that the Germans seem to have influenced it so little. About the only locally used dialect word that can be ascribed to them is briggity. The Scots appear to have had it all their own way.

When I first came to Lincoln County as a bride it used to seem to me that everything that did not pooch out, hooved up. 

Pooch is a Scottish variant of the word pouch and was in use in the 1600's. Numerous objects can pooch out including pregnant women and gentlemen with "bay windows." Hoove is a very old past participle of the verb to heave and was apparently in use on both sides of the border by 1601. The top of an old-fashioned trunk may be said to hoove up. Another word heard occasionally in the back country is ingerns. Ingems are onions. In Scottish dialect the word is inguns; however, if our people are permitted the intrusive r in potaters, tomaters, tobaccer, and so on, there seems to be no reason why they should not use it in ingems as well.

It is possible to compile a very long list of these Scots words and phrases. I will give only a few more illustrations, and will wait to mention some points on Scottish pronunciation and grammar a little further on.

Fornenst is a word that has many variants. It can mean either "next to" or "opposite from." "Look at that big rattler quiled up fornenst the fence post!" (Quiled is an Elizabethan pronunciation of coiled.) "When I woke up this morning there was a little skift of snow on the ground." "I was getting better, but now I've took a backset with this flu." "He dropped the dish and busted it all to flinders." "Law, I hope how soon we get some rain!" (How soon is supposed to be obsolete, but it enjoys excellent health in Lincoln County.) "That trifling old fixin ain't worth a haet!" Haet means the smallest thing that can be conceived of, and comes from Deil hae't (Devil have it.) Fixin is the Old English or Anglo-Saxon word for she-fox as used in the northern dialect. In the south of England you would have heard vixen, the word used today in Standard English. It is interesting to note that it has been primarily the linguistic historians who have pointed out the predominately Scottish heritage of the Southern mountain people. Perhaps I may be allowed to digress for a moment to trace these people back to their beginnings.

Early in his English reign, James I decided to try to control the Irish by putting a Protestant population into Ireland. To do this he confiscated the lands of the earls of Ulster and bestowed them upon Scottish and English lords on the condition that they settle the territory with tenants from Scotland and England. This was known as the "Great Settlement" or the "King's Plantation," and was begun in 1610.

Most of the Scots who moved into Ulster came from the lowlands1 and thus they would have spoken the Scots variety of the Northumbrian or Northern English dialect. (Most highland Scots at that time still spoke Gaelic.) This particular dialect would have been kept intact if the Scots had had no dealings with the Irish, and this, according to records, was the case.

While in Ulster the Scots multiplied, but after roughly 100 years they became dissatisfied with the trade and religious restrictions imposed by England, and numbers of them began emigrating to the English colonies in America. Many of these Scots who now called themselves the "Scotch-Irish" came into Pennsylvania where, finding the better lands already settled by the English, they began to move south and west. "Their enterprise and pioneering spirit made them the most important element in the vigorous frontiersmen who opened up this part of the South and later other territories farther west into which they pushed."2

Besides the Scots who arrived from Ireland, more came directly from Scotland to America, particularly after "the '45", the final Jacobite uprising in support of "Bonnie Prince Charlie," the Young Pretender, which ended disastrously for the Scottish clans that supported him. By the time of the American Revolution there were about 50,000 Scots in this country.

But to get back to the dialect, let me quote two more linguistic authorities to prove my point about the Scottish influence on the local speech. Raven I. McDavid notes, "The speech of the hill people is quite different from both dialects of the Southern lowlands for it is basically derived from the Scotch-Irish of Western Pennsylvania."3 H. L. Mencken said of Appalachian folk speech, "The persons who speak it undiluted are often called by the Southern publicists, 'the purest Anglo-Saxons in the United States,' but less romantic ethnologists describe them as predominately Celtic in blood; though there has been a large infiltration of English and even German strains."4The reason our people still speak as they do is that when these early Scots and English and Germans (and some Irish and Welsh too) came into the Appalachian area and settled, they virtually isolated themselves from the mainstream of American life for generations to come because of the hills and mountains, and so they kept the old speech forms that have long since fallen out of fashion elsewhere. Things in our area are not always what they seem, linguistically speaking. Someone may tell you that "Cindy ain't got sense enough to come in outen the rain, but she sure is clever." Clever, you see, back in the 1600's meant "neighborly or accommodating." Also if you ask someone how he is, and he replies that he is "very well", you are not necessarily to rejoice with him on the state of his health. Our people are accustomed to use a speech so vividly colorful and virile that his "very well" only means that he is feeling "so-so." If you are informed that "several" people came to a meeting, your informant does not mean what you do by several - he is using it in its older sense of anywhere from about 20 to 100 people. If you hear a person or an animal referred to as ill, that person or animal is not sick but bad-tempered, and this adjective has been so used since the 1300's. (Incidentally, good English used sick to refer to bad health long, long before our forebearers ever started saying ill for the same connotation.)

Many of our people refer to sour milk as blinked milk. This usage goes back at least to the early 1600's when people still believed in witches and the power of the evil eye. One of the meanings of the word blink back in those days was "to glance at;" if you glanced at something, you blinked at it, and thus sour milk came to be called blinked due to the evil machinations of the witch. There is another phrase that occurs from time to time, "Man, did he ever feather into him!" This used to carry a fairly murderous connotation, having gotten its start back in the days when the English long bow was the ultimate word in destructive power. Back then if you drew your bow with sufficient strength to cause your arrow to penetrate your enemy up to the feathers on its shaft, you had feathered into him. Nowadays, the expression has weakened in meaning until it merely indicates a bit of fisticuffs.

One of the most baffling expressions our people use (baffling to "furriners," at least) is "I don't care to. . . ." To outlanders this seems to mean a definite "no," whereas in truth it actually means, "thank you so much, I'd love to." One is forevermore hearing a tale of mutual bewilderment in which a gentleman driving an out-of-state car sees a young fellow standing alongside the road, thumbing. When the gentleman stops and asks if he wants a lift, the boy very properly replies, "I don't keer to," using care in the Elizabethan sense of the word. On hearing this, the man drives off considerably puzzled leaving an equally baffled young man behind. (Even the word foreigner itself is used here in its Elizabethan sense of someone who is the same nationality as the speaker, but not from the speaker's immediate home area.

Reverend is generally used to address preachers, but it is a pretty versatile word, and full-strength whisky, or even the full-strength scent of skunk, are also called reverend. In these latter instances, its meaning has nothing to do with reverence, but with the fact that their strength is as the strength of ten because they are undiluted.

In the dialect, the word allow more often means "think, say, or suppose" than "permit." "He 'lowed he'd git it done tomorrow."A neighbor may take you into her confidence and announce that she has heard that the preacher's daughter should have been running after the mailman. These are deep waters to the uninitiated. What she really means is that she has heard a juicy bit of gossip: the preacher's daughter is chasing the local mail carrier. However, she takes the precaution of using the phrase should have been to show that this statement is not vouched for by the speaker. The same phrase is used in the same way in the Paston Letters in the 1400's.

Almost all the so-called "bad English" used by natives of Appalachia was once employed by the highest ranking nobles of the realms of England and Scotland. Few humans are really passionately interested in grammar so I'll skim as lightly over this section as possible, but let's consider the following bit of dialogue briefly: "I've been a-studying about how to say this, till I've nigh wearried myself to death. I reckon hit don't never do nobody no good to beat about the bush, so I'll just tell ye. Your man's hippoed. There's nothing ails him, but he spends more time using around the doctor's office than he does a-working."The only criticism that even a linguistic purist might offer here is that, in the eighteenth century, hippoed was considered by some, Jonathan Swift among others, to be slangy even though it was used by the English society of the day. (To say someone is hippoed is to say he is a hypochondriac.)

Words like a-studying and a-working are verbal nouns and go back to Anglo-Saxon times; and from the 1300's on, people who studied about something, deliberated or reflected on it. Nigh is the old word for near, and weary was the pronunciation of worry in the 1300's and 1400's. The Scots also used this pronunciation. Reckon was current in Tudor England in the sense of consider or suppose. Hit is the Old English third person singular neuter pronoun for it and has come ringing down through the centuries for over a thousand years. All those multiple negatives were perfectly proper until some English mathematician in the eighteenth century decided that two negatives make a positive instead of simply intensifying the negative quality of some statement. Shakespeare loved to use them. Ye was once used accusatively, and man has been employed since early times to mean husband. And finally, to use means to frequent or loiter. Certain grammatical forms occurring in the dialect have caused it to be regarded with pious horror by school marms. Prominent among the offenders, they would be almost sure to list these: "Bring them books over here." In the 1500's this was good English. "I found three bird's nestes on the way to school." This disyllabic ending for the plural goes back to the Middle Ages. "That pencil's not mine, it her'n." Possessive forms like his'n, our'n, your'n evolved in the Middle Ages on the model of mine and thine. In the revision of the Wycliffe Bible, which appeared shortly after 1380, we find phrases such as ". . .restore to hir alle things that ben hern," and "some of ourn went in to the grave." "He don't scare me none." In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries do was used with he, she, and it. Don't is simply do not, of course. "You wasn't scared, was you?" During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries many people were careful to distinguish between singular you was and plural you were. It became unfashionable in the early nineteenth century although Noah Webster stoutly defended it. "My brother come in from the army last night." This usage goes back to late Anglo-Saxon times. You find it in the Paston Letters and in Scottish poetry. "I done finished my lessons," also has many echoes in the Pastons' correspondence and the Scots poets. From the late Middle Ages on up the Northern dialect of English used formations like this: "guiltless persons is condemned," and so do our people. And finally, in times past, participial forms like these abounded: has beat, has bore with it, has chose. Preterite forms were as varied: blowed, growed, catched, and for climbed you can find clum, clome, clim! all of which are locally used.

Pronunciation of many words has changed considerably, too. Deef for deaf, heered for heard, afeared for afraid, cowcumber for cucumber, bammy for balmy, holp for helped, are a very few. Several distinct characteristics of the language of Elizabeth's day are still preserved. Words that had oi in them were given a long i pronunciation: pizen, jine, bile, pint, and so on. Words with er were frequently pronounced as if the letters were ar: sarvice, sartin, narvous. It is from this time that we get our pronunciation of sergeant and the word varsity which is a clipping of the word university given the ar sound. Another Elizabethan characteristic was the substitution of an i sound for an e sound. You hear this tendency today when people say miny kittle, Chist, git, and so on. It has caused such confusion with the words pen and pin (which our people pronounce alike as pin) that they are regularly accompanied by a qualifying word - stick pin for the pin and pin and ink pin for the pen.You can hear many characteristic Scottish pronunciations. Whar, thar, dar (where, there, and dare) are typical. So also are poosh, boosh, eetch, deesh, (push, bush, itch, dish and fish.)

In some ways this vintage English reflects the outlook and spirit of the people who speak it; and, we find that not only is the language Elizabethan, but that some of the ways these people look at things are Elizabethan too. Many other superstitions still exist here. In some homes, when a death occurs all the mirrors and pictures are turned to the wall. Now I don't know if today the people still know why they do this, or if they just go through the actions because it's the thing to do, but this belief goes far back in history. It was once thought that the mirror reflected the soul of the person looking into it and if the soul of the dead person saw the soul of one of his beloved relatives reflected in the mirror, he might take it with him, so his relatives were taking no chances.

The belief that if a bird accidentally flies into a house, a member of the household will die, is also very old, and is still current in the region. Cedar trees are in a good deal of disfavor in Lincoln County, and the reason seems to stem from the conviction held by a number of people that if someone plants a cedar he will die when it grows large enough to shade his coffin.

Aside from its antiquity, the most outstanding feature of the dialect is its masculine flavor - robust and virile. This is a language spoken by a red-blooded people who have colorful phraseology born in their bones. They tend to call a spade a spade in no uncertain terms. "No, the baby didn't come early, the weddin' came late," remarked one proud grandpa. Such people have small patience with the pallid descriptive limitations of standard English. They are not about to be put off with the rather insipid remark, "My, it's hot!" or, "isn't it cold out today?" They want to know just how hot or cold: "It's hotter 'n the hinges of hell" or "Hit's blue cold out thar!" Other common descriptive phrases for cold are (freely) translated) "It's colder 'n a witch's bosom" or it's colder 'n a well-digger's backside."

Speakers of Southern mountain dialect are past masters of the art of coining vivid descriptions. Their everyday conversation is liberally sprinkled with such gems as: "That man is so contrary, if you throwed him in a river he'd float upstream!" "She walks so slow they have to set stakes to see if she's a-movin!" "Thet pore boy's an awkward size - too big for a man and not big enough for a horse." "Zeke, he come bustin' outta thar and hit it for the road quick as double-geared lightenin!"

Nudity is frowned upon in Appalachia, but for some reason there are numerous "nekkid as. ." phrases. Any casual sampling would probably contain these three: "Nekkid as a jaybird," "bare-nekkid as a hound dog's rump," and "start nekkid." Start-nekkid comes directly from the Anglo-Saxons, so it's been around for more than a thousand years. Originally "Start" was steort which meant "tail." Hence, if you were "start-nekkid," you were "nekkid to the tail." A similar phrase, "stark-naked" is a Johnny-come-lately, not even appearing in print until around 1530. If a lady tends to be gossipy, her friends may say that "her tongue's a mile long," or else that it "wags at both ends." Such ladies are a great trial to young dating couples. Incidentally, there is a formal terminology to indicate exactly how serious the intentions of these couples are, ranging from sparking which is simply dating, to courting which is dating with a more serious intent, on up to talking, which means the couple is seriously contemplating matrimony. Shakespeare uses talking in this sense in King Lear.

If a man has imbibed too much of who-shot-John, his neighbor may describe him as "so drunk he couldn't hit the ground with his hat," or, on the morning-after, the sufferer may admit that "I was so dang dizzy I had to hold on to the grass afore I could lean ag'in the ground."

One farmer was having a lot of trouble with a weasel killing his chickens. "He jest grabs 'em before they can git word to God," he complained.

Someone who has a disheveled or bedraggled appearance may be described in any one of several ways: "You look like you've been chewed up and spit out," or "you look like you've been a-sortin wildcats," or "you look like the hindquarters of hard luck," or, simply, "you look like somethin the cat drug in that the dog wouldn't eat!"

"My belly thinks my throat is cut" means "I'm hungry," and seems to have a venerable history of several hundred years. I found a citation for it dated in the early 1500's.A man may be "bad to drink" or "wicked to swear", but these descriptive adjectives are never reversed.

You ought not to be shocked if you hear a saintly looking grandmother admit she likes to hear a coarse-talking man; she means a man with a deep bass voice, (this can also refer to a singing voice, and in this case, if grandma prefers a tenor, she'd talk about someone who sings "Shallow.") Nor ought you to leap to the conclusion that a "Hard girl" is one who lacks the finer feminine sensibilities. "Hard" is the dialectal pronunciation of hired and seems to stem from the same source as do "far" engines that run on rubber "tars."

This language is vivid and virile, but so was Elizabethan English. However, some of the things you say may be shocking the folk as much as their combined lexicons may be shocking you. For instance, in the stratum of society in which I was raised, it was considered acceptable for a lady to say either "damn" or "hell" if strongly moved. Most Appalachian ladies would rather be caught dead than uttering either of these words, but they are pretty free with their use of a four letter word for manure which I don't use. I have heard it described as everything from bug _____ to bull ______. Some families employ another of these four letter words for manure as a pet name for the children, and seem to have no idea that it is considered indelicate in other areas of the country.Along with a propensity for calling a spade a spade, the dialect has a strange mid-victorian streak in it too. Until recently, it was considered brash to use either the word bull or stallion. If it was necessary to refer to a bull, he was known variously as a "father cow" or a "gentleman cow" or an "ox" or a "mas-cu-line," while a stallion was either a "stable horse" or else rather ominously, "The animal." Only waspers fly around Lincoln County, I don't think I've ever heard of a wasp there, and I've never been able to trace the reason for that usage, but I do know why cockleburrs are called cuckleburrs. The first part of the word cockleburr carries an objectionable connotation to the folk. However, if they are going to balk at that, it seems rather hilarious to me that they find nothing objectionable about cuckle.

A friend of mine who has a beauty parlor now, used to have a small store on the banks of the Guyan River. She told me about a little old lady who trotted into the store one day with a request for "some of the strumpet candy." My friend said she was very sorry, they didn't have any. But, she added gamely, what kind was it, and she would try to order some. The little lady glanced around to see if she could be overheard, lowered her voice and said, "well, it's horehound, but I don't like to use that word!"

The dialect today is a watered down thing compared to what it was a generation ago, but our people are still the best talkers in the world, and I think we should listen to them with more appreciation.

Notes1. Thomas Pyles, The Origins and Development of the English Language. (New York; Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., 1964), 36. "It is not surprising that those lowland Scotsmen who colonized the 'King's Plantation' in Ulster and whose descendents crossed the Atlantic and settled the Blue Ridge, the Appalachians, and the Ozarks should have been so little affected by the classical culture of the Renaissance."

2. Albert C. Baugh, A History of the English Language, 2nd ed., (New York, 1957), 409

.3. H. L. Mencken, The American Language, ed. Raven I. McDavid, Jr., the 4th ed. and the two supplements abridged, with annotations and new material. (New York, 1963), 455.4. Ibid., 459.

[forksofwisdom]

Twilight Characters Cast as Greek Deities - pictures + explanations

Warning:

This is a long one (but there are a lot of pretty pictures!)

By Greek Deities I mean all of them - the Primordial gods, Titans, Olympians, Daemones (personified spirits), and Nymphs. I focused on the deities personalities, abilities or history to find the right fit! Relationships are not taken into account!

Thanks to the anon who encouraged me to combine my love of Greek mythology with Twilight! This is for you!

These are simply my headcanons, so you're free to disagree or expand on them as you like!

The Olympic Coven

Carlisle's foremost characteristic is his compassion and desire to heal others. He saved the lives of most of his family members; Edward, Rosalie, Esme, and Emmet. Asclepius, the son of Apollo and famed physician, was punished by Zeus for saving the life of mortals from certain death. He was elevated to godhood in death.

Esme is described as the heart of the family. In ancient Greece, the hearth was the center of the home and family. Hestia received the first offering in every household since she presided over the preparation of the family meal.

Jasper participated in two major wars, both as a major and then as a second-in-command. He isn't rash or sadistic enough to be Ares, but his gift for strategy and charisma makes Pallas, the Titan god of Warcraft and military campaign, an excellent choice for him.

Alice has the gift of foresight, but her vivacious personality is why I chose the Titaness, Phoebe, out of all of the prophets and oracles. Phoebe is derived from the Greek word "phoibos" which means bright or radiant!

Emmett has superior strength than most vampires. Kratos is the personified spirit of strength, might, power and sovereign rule.

Rosalie was a difficult choice because she's like the lovechild of Aphrodite and Athena. She's beautiful, passionate, and desires children (procreation) but a she's also intelligent and interested in mechanics and engineering which is Athena's domain. I went with Aphrodite in the end because Athena is a maiden goddess and asexual.

Edward was an easy choice however because there are surprisingly few gods who rule music. Apollo is the god of music, poetry, and healing (to name a few) and Edward has an interest in medicine. To my knowledge, there are no Greek gods with the ability to read minds as Edward does.

The Quileutes

Sam was forced to keep the Alpha position by Jacob, which is an immense responsibility. Atlas was condemned to bear the entire sky for leading the Titans in their war against Zeus. Atlas came to mean endurance. (I thought of Hades at first, and I totally agree with you anon - he's got the 'hard on the outside soft on the inside' thing down to pat, but Hades fit another character better!)

Jared has the penchant for gambling. At first, I thought Hermes would be a good match for him, but Hermes many other titles (so, so many titles). I decided that Caerus, who is the god of opportunity, critical time, advantage and profit, was a better fit since those are attributes of (successful) betting.

Paul has a temper, but he's not a sadist like Ares. Poseidon is infamous for his temper tantrums, causing earthquakes and tsunamis (he's also a petty bitch, and I wouldn't put it past Paul to be one too if he could get away with it)

Jacob has a love for mechanics, and not many can say that they built their car! Hephaestus became the god of smiths, fire, and metalworking and his creations are prized and sought after by all the other gods!

Leah was challenging to cast. Initially, I thought she'd make a good Artemis, but that goddess has notoriously born hatred for all men since her birth. The only side of Leah we get to see in canon is the front she puts up - burnt and bitter. She's argumentative, sharp-tongued, and downright vicious. Eris is... not pleasant to be around. I think Leah would join Artemis and become her handmaiden once she's calmed down and away from Sam and Emily.

Seth is our sunshine boy!!! (need I say more???)

Embry is reserved and likes his space. I think he's the type to take advantage of the trails around La Push and go on long walks and enjoy his own company. Pan was the god of shepherds and forests of the mountain wilds. The Greeks associated his name with the word pan which means "all." However, its true origin lay in an old Arcadian word for rustic, but I couldn't resist quoting Hitchhiker's Guide in the picture - it's my favorite. I'M ONLY HUMAN!)

Quil is remarkably relaxed and cheerful for a boy who's supposed to be raging with testosterone *cough* Jake *cough* Paul *hack*. He seems like the sort of guy to enjoy a good party, and Dionysos certainly does. It doesn't hurt that he's best friends with Pan (Embry).

Emily was against Sam imprinting her at first. She was a victim of circumstance (it’s still shitty what they did to Leah), and Persephone was precisely that: a victim. Hades asked Zeus for the hand of one of his daughters and Zeus said that he could have Persephone, but that he'd need to kidnap her because Demeter would never allow him to have her daughter. He stole her and later tricked Persephone into staying with him for eternity. They fall deeply in love by the end tho.

Kim's personality isn't known in canon - other than that she's shy. She's a favorite of mine though, so that's why she's here! In my headcanon, Kim is intelligent and offers great advice. She's cunning as well, and nothing goes past her - Jared doesn't stand a chance. Metis was a councilor of Zeus during his war against the Titans and hatched the plan which would make Cronus regurgitate Zeus's siblings. (She's also the mother of Athena - pls read her story it's incredible! ಥ_ಥ)

The Swan Family

Bella is a shield, both in her human life and as a vampire. She does what she can to protect her loved ones, even going as far as to sacrifice herself by drawing blood as a distraction during the battle against Victoria. Soteria is the goddess and personification of safety, deliverance, and protection from harm. Deliverance, the action of being rescued or set free, is appropriate since Bella saved Edward from his inner demons as well.

Charlie represents the human laws in Twilight as a police officer. He's calm and more accepting than most (though he has his limits *cough* Edward *cough*). Rhadamanthys was a famously just lawmaker during his mortal life and was appointed as one of the three Judges of the Dead and King of the Elysian Fields after he died.

Renée tends to shift her hobbies and interests from one to another. Horme is the personification of effort and represents setting oneself in motion, and starting an action.

The Volturi

Aro is the current king and ruler of the vampires. He isn't a philanderer, so Zeus was out, but how he murdered his sister, Dinyme, in cold blood to keep Marcus from leaving the Volturi (and thus losing his power) reminds me of Cronus's desperate attempt to thwart his prophesied defeat at the hands of his child. Cronus ate his own children and familicide was one of the worst crimes you could commit in ancient Greece.

Marcus was DEPRESSED after he lost Didyme, his mate. The guy whispered "finally" when his head was about to be ripped off. Penthos is the personification of lamentation and mourning.

Caius is a sadist whose answer for everything is death and destruction. Ares revels in war for its own sake. He delights in the din and roar of battles, in the slaughter of men, and the destruction of towns. When Thanatos (the grim reaper) went missing, and people stopped dying, Ares sulked and famously said: "What's the point of war if no one dies?"

Jane was easy. She experienced such pain when she was burning at the stake that she could wield it with her mind when she became a vampire. Lupe is one of The Algea, who are three sisters that are the personification of pain and suffering - in both body and mind - grief, sorrow, and distress.

Alec's power reminded me of Hypnos, who puts you to sleep before Morpheus gives you dreams. Alec shuts off all of your senses - kind of like turning the off switch.

Sulpicia isn't given much of a personality in canon, and in Life and Death, Smeyer simply turned her into a female Aro by giving her his abilities of tactile telepathy. She deserves more credit; she's incredibly old, and I like to think that while she's locked up in the tower, Sulpicia keeps up with the times by watching the news on TV or reading news articles on the internet. Mnemosyne was the Titan goddess of memory and represented the rote memorization required to preserve the stories of history and myth before the introduction of writing.

Didyme's power was inducing happiness. Euphrosyne was one of the three Charities and the goddess of good cheer, mirth, merriment, and joy.

Athenodora is said to be one of the oldest vampires still walking the earth. We don't know much about her, but I bet she's created a few vampires in her time to keep the species going. Gaia was born at the dawn of creation, and all of the heavenly gods are her descendants.

Corin's addictive power is what persuades the wives and Chelsea to stay content in their imprisonment. You go through severe withdrawal by leaving, but it can be done since Eleazar, whose ability Aro coveted, left with Carmen. Peitho personifies persuasion and seduction - not 100% fitting to Corin's talents but the best I could think of...

Felix is a high-ranking guard and relies on strength and combat techniques to serve his leaders. His physical capabilities are so powerful that he has maintained within the guard for centuries. Alexiares, whose name means unconquerable, is one of two brothers that preside over defense and fortification of Olympus's gate.

Demitri's tracking ability and "Casanova lifestyle" immediately reminded me of Hermes, who is the god of herds, travelers and hospitality, roads and trade, thievery and cunning, heralds and diplomacy. It's fitting because Demitri is also shown to be polite and restrained, but he undoubtedly has a few aces up his sleeves to have survived in the Volturi guard for centuries.

Chelsea's ability to strip people of their emotional ties and forge new ones is unnerving. Ananke was the primordial goddess of necessity, compulsion, and inevitability. She emerged from Chaos fully formed at the beginning of all creation and is thought to be untouchable by all, from mortals and the immortals. She's able to control the fates of other gods and make them slaves to their own urges if she so chooses.

Afton's ability to make himself invisible is not found in any Greek deity, but Hades owns a helmet which is made of darkness and renders the user invisible.

The Denali Coven

Eleazar's ability to see other's potential reminds me of Prometheus's forethought and the unshakable belief he has in the humans Zeus forced him to create.

Carmen is pretty chill and peaceful from what we get to see of her in Breaking Dawn. She isn't overly troubled by the legality of things since she accepts Renesmee, whose existence goes against both the laws of vampires and those of nature, at once. We see that Carmen is maternal and gentle when she asks if she can hold Renesmee. Eirene is the personification of peace, and for Carmen, I interpreted that as personal peace and not upholding the legal system. Statues of Eirene often depict her as a maiden holding the infant Ploutos (Wealth) in her arms.

Kate is OOOLD but not the oldest vampire in existence. Since the power of lightning is solely in Zeus's domain (and Kate isn't a serial rapist), I had to overlook her electric ability. Electricity is used as a source of light, so I think Hemera is a good choice for Kate. She's the primordial goddess of the day and would disperse her mother Nyx's dark mists every morning to bathe the earth in the light from the ether.

Tanya reminds me of the Titaness Eos because they both have an insatiable desire for handsome men. Eos shares Hemera's domain, and later took over her duty of bringing the dawn to earth by opening the gates for Helios's chariot.

Irina thought the Cullens had created an immortal child, which was the outlawed. To her, it seemed like the Cullens thought they were above their laws and reported them to the Volturi accordingly. Nemesis is the goddess who exacted retribution against those who succumb to hubris.

The Irish Coven

Maggie can detect lies. Aletheia's the personification of truth and sincerity.

Siobhan's talent is outcome manipulation, which I assume means she can affect the outcome of some event. Lachesis was the second of the Three Fates. She distributes the 'thread' of a life. "Lanchano" means to obtain by lot, by fate, or by the will of the gods.

The Amazon Coven

Zafrina's ability of visual projection reminded me of Pasithea's past time of inducing hallucinations and relaxation. She was one of the younger Charities but later married Hypnos and now resides with him in the Underworld.  

Kachiri was the first out of the Amazon Coven to be bitten, but she didn't want to be separated from her two best friends, Senna and Zafrina, so she went back and turned them as well. I'm endlessly fascinated by their coven, so I didn't want to separate them here! Macaria is the goddess of "blessed" death which reminded me of how Kachiri came to collect her friends.

Senna is the quiet one, but that might be because she was wary around the Cullens. Gorgyra is a nymph in the Underworld and gave birth to Hade's orchardist. I can see her chilling with Katchiri and Zafrina in her son's orchard.

James’s Coven

James is an asshole. He’s so petty that he couldn't deal with the Cullen's refusal of sharing their meal, so he tricked Bella into coming to him by pretending to have her mother (how would he know who Renée was and wasn't she in Jacksonville??? Use your brain, Bella). Dolos is the personification of trickery, cunning deception, treachery, and guile - so basically, he's a nasty piece of work. He and James deserve each other.

Victoria was the first one I cast. She instantly reminded me of Hera because instead of punishing her husband/mate for his wandering eyes (greedy, in James's case) she goes to great length to punish Edward by trying to kill Bella, who is the innocent one in this whole shitshow. Hera, the goddess of marriage, should have picked a better husband because Zeus already was notorious for panting after every attractive face that came his way before they wed (heck he even cheated on her during their wedding celebration).

Laurent didn't give me a lot to work with since he's only portrayed as a coward. That doesn't seem correct because he came back to warn the Cullen's of James's plans and he later returned to Forks as a favor to Victoria. Epimetheus, the brother of Prometheus, was the Titan god of afterthought and excuses. I think Laurent regretted his decisions in the end, both for having traveled with James, and for having listened to Victoria. He also gave Bella the excuse that he had to kill her since Victoria was his old buddy.

Nomads

Peter was another difficult choice. At first, I thought Thanatos might be a good choice since Peter enjoyed fighting in Maria's army.  Thanatos's gentle touch kills instantly, but Jasper was the one who killed the newborns. Peter fell in love with Charlotte, whose newborn powers eventually expired, but instead of "delivering" Charlotte to her death, Peter told her to run and chased after her. Kharon (Charon) transported the dead across the waters to Hades in his boat but refused those that couldn't pay for the ride.

Charlotte is a survivor. She isn't a fighter by nature, but she made it through the Southern vampire wars alive and then fled with Peter to roam free as a nomad. Nike is the goddess of victory - both in war and in peaceful competition. I think Charlotte conquered all of life's trials and also when it came to love.

Alistair is an ancient hermit. He's suspicious by nature and rather displeased with his lot in life. I don't blame the guy since he was betrayed by his father and as a vampire, the falcons Alistair loved flew away from him in terror. Ouranos was the primordial god of the sky and was later betrayed by his sons.

Garrett was a hotheaded patriot who willingly fought for the colonies' right to self-govern. He was a true believer in the American dream. Menoetius was the god of rash actions and violent rage. The Greek word “menos” means might, force, passion, and battle rage.

Maria isn't a nomad, but I thought I'd include her on the list. She lived in Monterrey with her coven, her mate and two others that were like parents to her, before they were destroyed in the vampire battle for territory. Maria was the only survivor, and she built an army to extract revenge and get her territory back. Poine is the personified spirit of retribution, vengeance, recompense, punishment, and penalty for the crime of murder and manslaughter.

The Egyptian Coven

Benjamin was a tough one because of his elemental powers. The Greek gods divided the four elements between them, so there isn't one deity that has control over them all at once. Phanes was the primordial god of creation in the Orphic cosmogony. He was the generator of life and the driving force behind reproduction in the early cosmos. Phanes hatched from the world-egg, a primordial mix of elements split into its constituent parts. So he sort of had control over the elements at one point before dispersing them among his siblings. (Phanes was later known as Eros).

Tia was a quiet woman but when she did speak her words were insightful, and there was gravity to everything she said. Epiphron was the personification of shrewdness, careful consideration, and sagacity.

Kebi was Amun's slave while she was human. He chose her to become his mate because of her good looks. She was helpless from the start, and we never get to hear her speak or show any indication of being unhappy with her situation. Aporia is the personified spirit of powerlessness, want and difficulty.

Amun was tricky because, to be honest, he's a bastard, but we mustn't forget cultural relativity. Slavery was considered to be a-okay back in the days, and it was probably a fantastic way to keep a vampire's kitchen stocked. Now not so much but Amun doesn't seem like the type to evolve with the times. He's possessive and paranoid, keeping Benjamin locked away in an ivory tower so the Volturi won't come and steal him away as they did to Demitri. He also deprived Kebi of her choices and made her his slave/mate in death as well. Along with ruling death and funeral rites, Hades is also the god of the hidden wealth of the earth, from the fertile soil with nourished the seed-grain to the mined wealth of gold, silver, and other metals. Benjamin is Amun's hidden treasure.

Humans

Jessica is a normal teenage girl. She likes having friends, gossiping, and has a crush on the most handsome boy in school who doesn't return her affections. Echo was much the same; she gossiped, but she wasn't meanspirited, and genuinely wanted to help her friends in the conquest of love. She lied to Hera, who cursed her to have an echo of a voice as punishment for distracting her from Zeus's affairs with her endless chatter. She later fell in love with Narcissus who spurned her affections.

Angela is the sweetest, most kindhearted person we get to meet in Twilight. Philophrosyne is one of the younger Charities and is the personification of friendliness and welcome.

Mike has the hots for Bella. He has an on-and-off relationship with Jessica but only asked her out because Bella told him to. Himeros is the god of sexual desire and the personification of longing, and yearning.

Lauren is jealous of everyone who is pretty, despite being the most popular girl at school. She's also standoffish and snobby. Hybris is the personified spirit of insolence, hubris, violence, reckless pride, arrogance and outrageous behavior in general.

Let me know what you think!

Please don’t repost the pictures without asking for permission first and don’t remove credit!

[ask-beacons-finest]

Transcript of Match 3

(Team SLAM and Team PAGE are owned by @stutteringtony and @thepastyman respectively, sorry for it being so late I had to rewrite the entire thing because my COMPUTER DECIDED IT DIDN’T WANT TO KEEP IT SAVED)

“Ladies and gentlemen,” The AI’s face popped up onto the screens of the arena, quickly launching the crowds to their feet, “Are we ready for the third match? Well, let’s jump right into it! Bring those teams up to the arena!”

“Hmm,” Adderin stepped up from his seat with a grunt indicating his age, and slowly stepped towards the glass overlooking the arena, “It appears the next match is between you and I, Winter.” “It appears so,” Winter lets out a small chuckle, “Shall we make a bet just as our younger colleagues have?” “Well, that depends,” Adderin’s eyes glanced over to Winter, their slitted pupils glaring down at her, “Would you like to lose?”

The crowds cheered and chanted the names of their favored team as the plates at the opposite ends of the arena raised up to the floor. With each team standing tall on their respective plate.

“First off,” The AI cheerfully struck a pose, “Can team SLAM introduce themselves to the crowd!”

The called team stepped forward. The leader, Satomi Sakurai, raised up a respectful hand and quickly turned back to her team to begin explaining a game plan. The second member stood on one leg, tapping the tips of his toes to the ground as he looked around the crowd, paying only half attention to his leader until she strictly calls for his attention, which he gives after sheepishly apologizing. The third member gives nervous glances from his leader over to the other team, as well as throughout the crowd, his nerves seemingly getting so bad he begins to shake in his boots. The fourth member takes note of this and slaps the back of the third, giving off a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, both him and the third member turn their attention to their leader, who continues the plan. There are three weapons in front of them floating along the magnetic plates.

“Only three weapons,” Winter questions, her voices giving off a tint of superiority, “And one of them is shaking in his boots. Adderin do you truly expect them to hold up to Atlassian power?” “Do not doubt them,” Adderin slammed his cane onto the floor, startling Sun who was standing off to the side daydreaming, “They have proven themselves enough to stand as your team’s equal, no? Just watch child, allow me to show you the crop of Vacuo.” “So uhhh,” Sun awkwardly enters the conversation, “I’m guessing Weiss is sitting this one out eh?”

“What wonderful introductions, watch out Team PAGE! It looks like SLAM is cracking down on a plan! But,” The AI gave a smug smile, “We’ve all seen plans fail before, just look at Professor Belladonna’s new sense of fashion!” The AI relished the laughter of the crowd before leaning to the side as if being whisper too, “Oh? She’s not even here,” The AI pouted and shrugged, “Fine then, no fun she is I suppose. Team PAGE, please introduce yourselves to the crowd!”

“Maybe Weiss was right, no humor in AI” “Ahh, Blake,” Jaune pulls his leg off the desk, putting his comics away, “You’ve made it back. Did things go well with our old friend?” “She’s fine,” Blake takes her seat, ushering Penny to do the same, “Still as grumpy and obsessed with that monster as ever.” “Well,” Ren gave off a sad smile, as he also misses their friend incredibly, “Thankfully you’re back just in time for the match.” “Oh,” Penny’s sad look immediately dissolved as she clapped and looked on, “Excellent!” “Alright, watch what you say,” Jaune yawned and reached over to put his hand on a switch, “Ten seconds and we’re loud.”

Team PAGE took their cue and stepped forward. The leader, Paige Kingsland, gave off a wave to the crowd with a genuine smile; her eyes, however, are not removing themselves from her opponents. The second gives off a wave as well, laughing and cheering back with the crowds, worrying considerably less about his opponents than his leader, or his remaining teammates for that matter, with his focus almost solely on the crowd. The third member stood tall beside his team, watching his weapon float ahead of him as the crowds cheered on, with a quick shift of his arm he covers the Schnee family insignia pinned to his coat. Meanwhile, the fourth member paces back and forth, and despite being the shortest of the team her wild longing for the soon to start battle could be felt by the crowd. Four weapons float before them.

“Hey wait a minute,” Sun narrows his eyes, scooping his hands around them in an attempt to see better, “Is that what I think it is on that kid’s coat?” “Yes, we’re cousins, hardly though due to Weiss and I’s father and his tearing our mother from her relatives,” Winter nodded without casting so much as a look upon Sun, “You saw the publications of the teams, did you not recognize the name?” “Well uhh,” Sun rubbed the back of his head, “I read my teams’.” “Oh for the love of,” Winter sighed into her hand, rubbing her eyes, “Why did I expect any different from you?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” The AI’s face disappeared as the teams and their bars of aura took her place on the screens, “It’s time for match number three! Begin!”

Satomi Sakurai stood still as her team rushed around her grabbing their weapons and equipping themselves as fast as they could, she spins and stomps irritably through to the front of the group, holding out her arm for a moment before pulling it back to her side, nodding and speaking quietly to herself. Landon Winston, the second member of SLAM slips his fingers through into his pair of brass knuckles, giving each a kiss before smashing them together, pumping himself up and getting his heart beating. The third, Alan Quils grabs hold of two balls, giving them a simple juggle before nodding before breathing confidence in himself, with a smile he spins one of the balls upon his finger. The fourth member walks up to a fair sized contraption that fits nicely onto his back, but in a quick mechanical motion the device splits and travels down to his forearms and calves, he gives off a quick smirk and brushes his knuckles against his nose while glaring down the arena floor.

“That’s...” “Atlas tech,” Adderin casually finishes Winter’s question, who stands with her mouth agape in shock, “Or something resembling the very weapon of your sister’s beloved teammate? You know, Team RWBY’s fame has spread far and wide since the incident ten years ago.” “Plus,” Sun added, a smile as he watched the teams frantically grab hold of their weaponry, “With Ruby and Yang traveling so much and so far, I suppose it isn’t too wild to say that they’ve been inspiring people left and right to become huntsmen. I know some of my kids have told stories of a red-hooded silent type and beautiful blond saving their village from grimm or bandits. Only that beautiful blond may just be myse-” “That’s Atlas design,” Winter cuts Sun off with a tone of amazement and tinged with anger, leaving him to sulk, “How dare you! How /did/ you!?” “Hmph,” Adderin took his snake eyes back to the match, “What was that about Weiss being the most secretive?” 

Paige Kingsland watches over her team intently as they quickly equip themselves, making sure to give last-minute tactics before picking up her own weapon, an old yet well-maintained greatsword that appears to have no special abilities, but will hurt nonetheless. The second member, Adrian Brine gripped hold of a spearhead that extended into a full-length harpoon with a flick of his wrist, an intricate circular tablet hooks neatly onto his forearm, he retracts the harpoon back into its spearhead form and hooks the bottom end into apart of the tablet, he then looks onward to his leader. The third, George Schnee, steps up to a seemingly standard Atlassian Rifle, but upon grabbing it the rifle itself expands into a more complex version of itself, he loads a clip and barrels the round, ready for the fight to come. The fourth of Team PAGE, Elizabet Meadows, slides her fingers into her own pair of knuckle dusters, giving off a disgusted look when her opponent of the same weapon gives off a wink and nearly charges down the arena before being caught by George’s hand on the straps of her overalls.

“Weird isn’t it,” Jaune’s question bounds off the walls of the Coliseum, “How many students pick brass knuckles for weapons.” “They’re simple,” Ren adds, “Effective too. So that’s all that matters, yes?” “Not much pizazz to them thought,” Blake adds a final comment, gaining two disrespectful looks towards the announcer’s box.

Team SLAM made the first move, with Landon and Marcos rushing forward as the latter fires several shots from his gauntlets. Satomi and Alan rushed in after a moment’s wait, lagging about half a dozen feet behind their teammates.

“Here they come,” Elizabet of Team PAGE smiles and charges forward, “Let’s do this!” “George,” Paige grips hold of her sword and preps herself for launch, “Shoot me.” “Understood,” With that, George lifted two fingers and pointed them abrubtly to the ground beneath his leader’s feet. A large black glyph appears and after spinning into place launches Paige into the air.

There was little time for George to react to the blast from Marcos’s gauntlets and jumped backwards as his aura sparked. He quickly raised his rifle and began to fire down the arena grounds, hitting several shots into Marco’s abdomen, whose aura drains as a result. All the while Adrian Brine takes hold of his weapon, throwing the spearhead down and it transforms midflight into its harpoon form, a multicolored twine attached to the bottom from the circular tablet on his wrist, this causes Marcos to jump out of the way in a hurry, only to be shocked as the harpoon changes directions towards him, with Adrian pulling along the string with a smirk.

“So,” Landon cockily jokes as he dodges a blow from Elizabet, “How about we share a couch down there when the match is over? You can congratulate me on my win.” “If your face isn’t hideous when I’m done bashing it,” Elizabet dodges a strike herself, and quickly lands a surprise hook to Landon’s cheek, causing him to stumble back and shake his head, “I’ll consider it.” “Oooh, you’re getting my heart pumping,” Landon smirked, spitting to the ground, “That’s a bad idea.”

Slightly further back Alan and Satomi are stopped in their tracks and forced to jump back as Paige slams down onto the earth from the air, smashing it with her heavy blade. She stands slowly and preps herself against her opponents. “I suspect you both have a trick,” Paige slowly eyes back and forth between her two adversaries, “No weapon, and a very unreasonable weapon. Well, I’m sorry to cut you down.” “Oh trust me,” Satomi raises her fists and pushes a foot back into a fighting stance, “We’re both full of surprises.” “Y-yeah,” Alan nervously grips hold of one of the heavy balls that are his weapons, his hand slowly enveloping it and he begins to spin it in a similar fashion to a sling, “We’re not something to take on so easily.” “Good,” Paige preps herself for a lunge, “I look forward to it.”

“It appears that the teams have picked their opponents,” Penny remarked from the announcer’s booth. “Mhm,” Jaune scratched the unkempt stubble on his chin, “One one versus one, two two versus ones. Not the way we do it here at Beacon, but I suppose the other schools have their own interesting way of doing things.” “Oh yes,” Penny cheerfully spoke, seemingly oblivious to Jaune’s mocking tone, “Atlas focuses very much on fighting against someone you’re outnumbered against, and how to fight against someone outnumbered. Despite sounding simple and very obvious there are several heavily intricate designs to the curriculum.” “Oh how astounding,” Ren exclaimed, “We must trade notes, Jaune especially, this is your area of expertise.” “Eugh,” Jaune’s grunt was his only response as the match continued. 

Marcos landed from his retreat further away from his teammates than he’d have liked, unfortunately noticing that his opponents had lured him away from support far too late. This was not too much a worry on his part. George continued firing upon him as he approached, only hitting every few shots as most are blocked by Marcos’s gauntlets. Adrian’s harpoon flies right by his face, Marcos is only able to dodge it at the last second, while in the midst of his dodge he lifts up an arm and fires two shots at George, hitting one which only lowers George’s aura even more. Taking notice of this George curses and swipes his foot along the ground in front of him, several small black glyphs appear and then quickly form a small wall of thick ice he takes cover behind.

“Just fire your rocket,” Adrian shouts from his position, reeling his harpoon back to his hand, “Get this done and over with.” “Fine,” George pulls the bottom of his rifle back, then cocks it forward which lets out a small beep, “But if this results in me buzzing out, you owe me.” “Ha,” Adian laughed, not looking away from his opponent, “And I thought I made good jokes.” 

“With how extreme the crowd is right now,” Marcos speaks to himself, glancing away from his battle to the cheering stands, “My semblance would do some harm to me, but...”

Marcos could hardly finish the thought as he looks over towards the sound of a small explosion, only to see George standing over his cover with rifle in hand, sending a blazing rocket his way. “Shit,” Marcos sighed, the world around him slowing, the rocket nearly in front of his face as it slides to a near halt, with a pained grimace he grabs hold of the rocket and turns it around, “Oh god...too much going on, this hurts...”

The slowed time stopped, and the rocket continues its path as if nothing happened, flying towards George who notices last second. The explosion is enough to both shatter the icy wall and send him flying backward, his aura now in the red as a buzzer sounds. Marcos, however, drops to a knee and grips hold of his head, his sensory system overloaded, feeling as though his brain is on fire. Adrian takes this chance without a second thought and throws his harpoon to the side of his target, pulling a bright green string which causes the thrown weapon to wrap the twine around Marcos. Before he could do anything to free himself from his binds, Adrian snaps the string which activates a dust reaction, sparking a heavy line of electricity that flows throughout the string, ending at Marcos and blasting him with the strength of a lightning bolt. Marcos collapses onto the ground as the buzzer sounds a second time, indicating his defeat. “Damn it,” Adrian stomps his foot on the ground as he steps over to his weapon and picks it up, “I guess I owe George, now to help my team win this.”

“So,” Blake’s voice revealed her confusion, “What...happened?” “Oh,” Penny tilted her head, her voice genuinely surprised, “Did you not see? It appears that Marcos boy can perceive the world eight times slower than others when he activates his semblance, is able to interact with the environment normally as well, giving the illusion of super speed. Though it appears to put a lot of stress on his body, his sensory systems, including heart and lungs.” “Ah, yes yes of course,” Jaune, who was equally confused as Blake speaks up, “It’s right here, says the same thing in his registration form.” “Did you really not read those before the matches?” “Ren,” Jaune responded to his old friend, “Be quiet.”

Meanwhile, Paige was battling off with the leader and one other member of team SLAM, using quick and rapid slashes of her sword to strike against Alan Quils, who could only use his weapons to deflect the blasts. Paige knew if she were to take out the seemingly weaker link the battle against the leader would go much easier, and with each blow that Alan failed to deflect his aura dropped again and again. Satomi, on the other hand, appeared to be using this to both learn her opponents fighting style as well as give an impromptu lesson to her teammate, shouting commands and instructions as he panics to dodge or block. Paige’s patience amazingly shorts out and she finds herself rearing back to kick away the much smaller student. Before her foot connects with the boy, however, it’s stopped by a strange glowing pane and out the corner of her eye, Paige can see the bar indicating Satomi’s aura drop despite her not being hit by any attack.

“Ahh,” Paige shows some interest, “I see, you can project your aura, yeah? Interesting, we’ve got a few of those at Atlas too.” “Well,” Satomi smiled, dozens of projectiles of the same color appear over her shoulders, “Can they do this?” “Yes,” Paige easily swipes her sword out at Alan as he sorrily attempts a surprise attack, sending him flying and his aura plummeting into the red, “They can.” “Well,” Satomi raised a hand, the first of many projectiles flying from its place past the cheek of Paige, who remains unflinching as her aura drops by a hair, “Let’s compare notes.”

“It appears your game is over Adderin,” Winter smiled, pride in her voice, “While I admit the ability to project aura into a weapon or shield took me by surprise, it seems my students remain undaunted. Not to mention you’re down two, while I’m only missing one.” “I only need these two,” Adderin’s snake-like eyes gloss over, intently watching the match, “You’ll see.”

“So,” Landon, showing no signs of exertion, “I was thinking maybe you could shoot me your number or-” “ARGH,” Elizabet growls, missing a punch to Landon’s face only to follow it up with an uppercut to his stomach which sends him tumbling backward, “Do you ever shut up?!” “Uuurgh,” Landon jumps up, much to the arena’s surprise as his aura is now in the low yellow, “Now...Now I’m properly pumped up.”

With a grin Landon flashed forward at a speed completely unexpected by Elizabet, the only thing she could do as he approached was defend pull up her arms to defend herself. It was little use, however, as a heavy, knuckleduster wearing fist broke through her guard and landed right against her stomach. She went nowhere, as her feet were firmly planted onto the ground and her semblance was activated, this did not discourage Landon, as he kept pushing his fist with such brutal strength that it ripped up the floor to the arena under her feet and sent her flying into the wall behind her. Her body slammed into the wall as the arena floor crumbled off her feet, her aura hit the red and the buzzer sounded. Landon smashed his fists together and howled in an adrenaline-fueled burst. 

Paige stepped back and back as she continued to block and dodge the projectiles shot towards her. Her earlier idea was proven useless, however, as with each disappearance of a projectile when it missed its mark Satomi’s aura refilled. Paige’s brain sparked up an idea and she quickly activated her semblance, continuing to block and dodge as many projectiles as possible. Satomi flicks another projectile her way, hitting her in the shoulder. 

“Really,” Satomi’s voice was cold, “Just give in, your team is all out.” “I’m still here though,” Paige grinned, “That’s enough for a comeback.” “Is it?”

The voice directly behind her made Paige stop dead in her tracks, she could only slowly turn her head to see Landon standing tall behind her, a big smile on his face.

“Great semblance by the way,” Landon clenched his fist, “I feel ten times better already, but you might wanna turn it off now. You want as much aura as you can fo thi-”

Before he could finish his sentence Paige recoils back into him, knocking him down on the ground as well, Satomi stands with her finger pointing to Paige, a single aura projectile burning in her stomach, it soon fades away along with every other projectile floating around her, refilling her aura.

“Hey!” “You were taking too long,” Satomi ridiculed her teammate, but softened as he stood up and gave off a smile, “But you did well. I’m proud.” “Heh,” Landon rubbed the back of his head and looked around the cheering crowd, all chanting SLAM, “Looks like we did it.” “Looks like it,” Satomi helped Alan to his feet and patted Marcos on the back as he shakily joined them in the middle of the arena, “Looks like it...”

“And it looks like Team SLAM wins! What an amazing match,” The AI boomed as the teams collected themselves and headed over to the plates that return them to the waiting area, “Let’s give it up for team SLAM!”

“Astounding,” Ren says, his voice excited, “This tournament is getting better and better.” “A real shame Headmistress Schnee missed it,” Jaune’s voice was a low growl, “But, it just means that team SLAM will have to prove themselves once more, and I look forward to that.” “Oooooh,” Blake teases, “Was that a compliment from Jaune Arc? Resident grumpy old man?” “Don’t you have repairs and finances to worry about,” Jaune questioned, “They did a real damper to the arena.” “Oh god,” The fun joking tone in Blake’s voice wavers, now full of panicked worry, “This is costing us a fortune...” “Both teams did very well,” Penny cheerfully exclaimed, “I cannot wait to go back to Atlas to teach them how to properly be more combat ready in the future!”

“Alright alright,” The AI cheerfully exclaimed, “That’s match number three! Number four will get started right after repairs are done! Thank you all for watching!!”

[handmaidenoftheempress]

A meeting not by chance

[[Drabble regarding what happens after Vashj’s canon death. An encounter with a nightborne female in a teahouse has Syndras Shadowstar taken aback. Technically an AU and I will tag it as such. Setting: Darkshore Timeline: Legion. Artwork is mine. Syndras Shadowstar belongs to @eternityinseconds ]]

It was some time after Suramar had lifted its' aeons-long veil, that Syndras Shadowstar found himself, for the fourth time in one week,  sitting in a popular tea-house situated in the Broken Shore.  Laboring intensively in the years since the Cataclysm, the Darnassian folk had largely  rebuilt the fishing village formerly known as "Auberdine", building around the gullies and shattered earth that stretched throughout the confines of Darkshore.      

  Granted, a patch of broken architecture still stretched out upon the sands like a beached whale, with a placard which bore tribute to the souls lost when the village was torn apart. It was a deliberate reminder of what had happened, and could still happen, if dark forces broke forth from their prisons once more, to wage war upon the world.    

     Be that as it may, Professor Shadowstar, as he was known in scholarly circles, known well for his infamous "Shadowstar Chronicles" and several highly important archaeological discoveries, was thinking of none of these things, though the sight of the rent earth, that had just recently begun to heal itself, always triggered certain memories for him.     

     One could not be certain what he was thinking of, for he communicated little, and though his fine, handsome features, well-proportioned figure, and remarkable mane of long, silver hair had drawn many interested admirers over those few days, he had quickly shooed them off, preferring to drink alone, and scribble madly in a large leather journal when the notion took him. 

     The days went by. Crowds of people came and went in the teahouse. The professor, pausing only to sleep in a room in the nearby tavern, sat in his usual spot near the back of the room, eating little and drinking endless cups of tea, of which he took a few sips and allowed to grow cold. The truth was, no one could make tea as well as his wife Ky'anna. Not even the fabled Pandaren, who ran the tea-shop conjointly with its' Darnassian owners. Besides, he had not come for the tea. He came, as he always did to this place, for reasons of his own.      

     If he had thought on it a little harder, he would have remembered, and he did not wish to remember. Did not wish to think on the fact that there was one other who had made tea as well as Ky'anna. Since the lifting of the veil at Suramar, thoughts of her had come to his mind far too frequently, and he did not wish to explore them further. It would only lead to more brooding, something he could ill afford at the moment.        

     His archaeological grants were nearing their time of renewal and he raced against the clock to uncover certain artifacts before such ill-gotten groups as the Twilights' Hammer got their filthy claws on them. Not to mention that cursed Blood Elf who had taken it upon himself to dig up the lands around the recently uncovered city....     

     Someone was interrupting his line of thought. He looked up irritably, quill still set to parchment. "Pardon?" A woman with violet skin that had an odd sheen to it, and clad in the serving uniform of the tea-house, had seated herself across from him, having set down his order before him. Long, pale lashes framed elegantly shaped eyes, Syndras taking in her appearance before realizing momentarily what she was. Nightborne. 

     His chin tilted up slightly as he regarded her loftily. "I wondered how long it would take before your people began showing up on our shores. Regardless..." He quirked an eyebrow at her as she stared back at him, the almond-shaped eyes glinting oddly as he felt himself being assessed. "I do not appreciate being bothered by the serving-staff of this place for the sixth time this week. Kindly take this", here he flung down a silver piece none too gracefully, "And begone".   

     The slightest bit of a chuckle escaped her as she continued to regard him, his tea already poured before he knew it. "Well now. I fight through the darkness of the Void itself and am clothed and ready to greet my prince...and look how he denies me". It was a well-known phrase from an ancient story of a star-spirit that had died and had to fight her way back to her lover, only to find him changed beyond recall, and with no memory of his past love.

    But her teeth had come down upon her bottom lip, even as she handed him the steaming brew, sweetened with just a hint of honey. The fragrant aroma of sweet berry and jasmine wafted to his nostrils even as he took it, glaring at her. "You sit down before me without permission, and now you dare to toy with one of your best-paying customers? I will have words w-"     

     But one long, elegant finger had come to her lips. "Ohh, I know well that the esteemed Professor does not wish to be disturbed. But...you must forgive me. I have only begun working here, and was told to get myself used to the tea-house, and its' customers. This brew you see here...is of a rare, exotic flower blended with dried fruit...and laced with a touch of edible gold. It was the managers' desire that you try it...and see what you think". And indeed, there were tiny gold flecks floating about in the tea-water, the cup rimmed with the hint of sweetness and garnished with an exotic bloom.

     He stared at her. Something about those eyes was mesmerizing; both the woman and her stance were puzzling to him. A very clear memory came to his head. He shook himself slightly to clear the image, and without quite knowing what he was doing, he took a sip....and then another, and another. "This...is quite remarkable. Certainly better than the normal sw- er, the normal brew they serve. What did you say your name was?" He took another sip of the tea; that she had moved to the seat beside him went unnoticed for the moment.     

      "Venlaria Shadoweve". The slight smile remained; the voice, lilting, soft as silk, combining medium and low tones, had him frowning slightly; he was confused, but did not understand why. His eyes narrowed . Hers stared calmly back at him. The brew was beyond excellent; the tea house was of course renowned for its high standards, yet no one had served him a tea like this, since a time almost beyond recall.       

      "Well, Venlaria..", he had been about to compliment her on the tea and dismiss her, yet something stopped him. "From where in Suramar do you hail?" Surreptitiously, he had pulled the journal to him; he took another long draught of tea, before withdrawing a small piece of charcoal from the rolled cloth he used to store his writing and drawing implements. His hand moved almost imperceptibly as he began to sketch her. A Nightborne face, most definitely. Yet there was something subtle that hid beneath. Something directly at odds with the woman she appeared to be....   

      "Oh, I was not from Suramar, originally.  Yet I was caught there when the Legion came...and, thank goodness, rescued. I owe much to those who came to save us." Her smile was indulgent, and sweet, but there was a sadness behind it. "I have come to make my way in the world, and find myself lost, and looking for a home, for the place I left behind was never that to me".

     "Ah". He did not want to ask her any more questions about Suramar. Did not wish to think of the possibility that his parents might yet live...or might have become the poor withered wretches the Kaldorei in Suramar had worked so hard to cure.  He had finished sketching her face; he was now adding, for some reason, a hairpiece, and a choker to the figure on the parchment.   

     She had refilled his tea, and garnished it again; to his surprise, he realized he had drained his first cup. Long lashes fluttered downwards as her gaze swept the length of him, something he oddly did not mind; an interminable amount of time seemed to pass between them, and while it was true that he had initially wanted to dismiss her, his mind was fractured, elsewhere. He would have blamed it on the tea, and the woman before him, but there were times, such as this moment, where Syndras doubted his sanity. Perhaps he had spent too long cooped up in his tower...    

     She was now speaking to him of the blooms she had begun to cultivate on trellises surrounding the teahouse; she hoped that they would take by winter. Snorting slightly, he replied, "It is clear that you do not know of the weather in these parts. In this place, the only snow we get is the remnants of dried druid feces that blow through the village".    

      He finished his third cup, looking around to make sure no-one else had heard him, and smirking as she broke into laughter. He polished off the plate of cookies she had set on the tray; surprised at his sudden appetite, he withdrew the silver piece and put down a gold coin in its place.

     "Now, Venlaria, I must ask you to leave. It has been pleasant...but I have many things I must set in order before I sail". Her face looked so crestfallen at that statement, that he almost regretted saying it, even though he was perfectly within his rights. He found himself adding, "Such pleasant company I rarely see here, or on my travels. You must visit myself and my wife sometime...."   

     Her smile widened, and he shook his head slightly, panicking inwardly. What did I just say and why did I say it??! "Well, anyway. Off with you". He waved a hand dismissively, flipping a page in his journal and dipping his quil in his inkpot.   

     With surprising speed and grace, she rose, gathering up the tray and the empty teapot, plate and cup, though the flower fell off the rim as she did so. "I thank you, Professor Shadowstar, for listening to the ramblings of an old woman. It does you credit, as does your appreciation of my tea".    

     She could not help herself any more than she could take her eyes off of him. A finger came out and lightly brushed down the bridge of his nose; her lips twitched in a rueful half-smile. His mouth opened, about to tell her off for taking such liberties with his person, yet she had already bowed to him apologetically, and moved off in the direction of the kitchens. Mesmerized by the sway of her hips, he had quite forgotten the complaint by the time she had disappeared....        

     Hours later, when he came to enquire as to her whereabouts, she appeared to have vanished. The Pandaren tea-master was as confused as his patron, and all over humble apologies, which Syndras did not want. He gathered up his journal and writing tools and left rather huffily, having checked every floor of the establishment, including the kitchens.

     It was only as he set sail from Ruth'theran village the following day, that he flipped back to the page on which he had sketched her face. The flower she had left behind had already been crushed between the pages of another journal of his; the trellises she had worked on cultivating were already being tended by druids interested in the properties of the blooms themselves. Well now. I fight through the darkness of the Void itself and am clothed and ready to greet my prince...and look how he denies me. 

Why had she said that to him? Staring at that enigmatic face, he realized he would have none of the answers until he found her again. Which, to his mind, was as likely as finding a single flower petal in a garden full of them. He sighed and looked out of the small window of the cabin, journal still open on his knees, the taste of the tea still lingering on his tounge...his own eyes closing as he remembered the reflected starlight in hers.

[merdelain]

Quil, Lhovi, Lou, Foxglove, Myriliean: what kind of footwear do you normally wear? Is there a sport/modern hobby you would enjoy? What's an image that calms you? Describe your life's goal in ten words or less.

thanks!

what kind of footwear do you normally wear?

Quil: I prefer side-button dress boots, mid-calf or so. I like 'em cap-toe, as well; either two-tone or two textures. They're nice and formal, but decently durable.Lhovi: I... don't wear footwear if I can avoid it, haha. If it's necessary I'll wear soft leather boots to keep warm. If the ground’s just rough, maybe some sandals or footwraps.Lou: Oh, just a sensible, slim leather boot, about under-knee hight. Something you could easily attach your armor to and could feel comfortable walking long distances in.Foxglove: I am a costume man, myself. I find that I'm often wearing a somewhat-oversized, slouchy cuffed boot; it sort of mimics the feel of the balloon-sleeved shirts I usually wear.Mirilyien: I like a tall, flashy boot with a heel -- one that's sensible for movement, but still fashionable. One of my favorite pairs is nice and fitted in the shoe itself and in the ankle, then trumpets out so it's wide at the top. They stay up on their own. With my tunic and gloves on, it's a good look.

is there a sport/modern hobby you would enjoy?

Quil: Hahah, well... I'm not really a sporty guy. I've done fencing, but I wasn't good at it... I do love swimming, though. I'd like to get better at it.Lhovi: Paragliding, hang-gliding, skydiving... hell, maybe even wingsuiting. I just want to fly.Lou: Oh, I enjoy anything that keeps my mind and body in good balance with one another. Ballet and yoga are excellent for this.Foxglove: I have always been and always will be a dancer at heart -- anything that relies on acrobatics and nimbleness of the body and produces a graceful image would be worth my while. I'd love to try gymanstics or ice skating.Mirilyien: I mean, y'all know I wanna be a model... but anything I can do to keep my body toned -- and maybe turn some heads while I'm at it -- I'm all about it. I'd just be a li'l bit of a gym rat, I guess.

what's an image that calms you?

Quil: Sunset over the sea, the end of a breezy summer day. Lhovi: Probably... either a light, sunny day dotted with big white clouds near a seaside town, or a calm, clear night with the moon and stars.Lou: A tranquil pool, dotted with waterlillies, leading into a stream that rambles through a forest. There's a gentle waterfall churning, tumbling down a series of drops from above.Foxglove: A night sky with a gentle wind, dotted here and there with a few clouds, who are backlit in silver by a full moon, with a billion stars beyond. Sometimes a thin bit of cloud passes in front of her, and for a moment you can see a moonbow through the lacy wisps.Mirilyien: A big ol' buncha sleepy kittens on a soft feather bed. They're sleepin' in a pach of sunlight from a window 'cause it's warm.

describe your life's goal in ten words or less.

Quil: Waterdeep, harborside. Soloist. Guild member. Respected, happy, loved... and reunited.Lhovi: Hm... Well-loved and never alone.Lou: To stand for peace, for justice. To never stop fighting.Foxglove: To have left the world brighter than I found it.Mirilyien: The world will remember my name. I'll live forever, baby.

[atomickrakatoa]

Episode 6 - "It is then that I realize all those years of buying him chicken nuggets has paid off." - Trixie

Colin

OMG NO NOT NIC WHY Literally the only person I actually trusted from the original villains tribe and he's gone fuck. Now I gotta find new allies. I'm gonna start working on Liana more and also talk more to Bryce. He's really nice and we bonded during immunity. I also am gonna keep my ties to the giant Nicholas/Dana/Trixie/blah/blah/blah premade just to keep myself safe. I don't want to go far with them by any means but they're good to keep around because they will keep me safe as long as they can I think. Also fuck Survivor Jeopardy. I love jeopardy but fuck survivor. That is all. Goodnight. 

Bryan

Ok so that vote went perfectly! I didn’t have to use my idol. There were no votes cast against me as well! Poor Willa is gonna wake up and think wtf happened. Trixie is now a close ally to me and Christian as well! I’m still keeping my eye on her tho. She is a very good player so I will not be letting my guard down. Hopefully our tribe will win immunity tho! 

VL DR: tribal jeopardy is darksided and that is the truth and nothing but the truth 

QuilLynn

I villain just got taken out on a tribe with minority heroes, woo! It gives me hope for me and Bryce if we ever have to face a tribal with our tribe. I'm excited for jeopardy, but worried that if I play and lose it for my team (big possibility) I could be in danger, so I might not volunteer to play, but I'm excited to watch either way, I'm sure it's going to be a great comp! 

Colin

I haven't found anything useful since I found that senja idol that one time BUT! Your fave gay just found a cute, fashionable, one-of-a-kind accessory! I found this cute ass shell in the east lagoon and I'm gonna wear it as a necklace for the rest the season uwu. It does nothing but look cute. Kinda like me. yeah that just sums up how exciting my game has been the past few rounds. bye.

Nicholas

quillynn von ghina is the WORST DRAG QUEEN EVER!!!

**Senja and Malam win immunity**

Bryan

Well that sure was something huh? Anyways. AAAAHHH THESE LAGOON SEARCHES ARE FINALLY MAKING SENSE! I FIGURED OUT THE ROCKS! I just hope I’m right about the loud noise being the mountain and not something else and having to search for that then. 

Bryce

Losing immunity is always rough but we gave it our best shot! Somehow I think Zachary Rae should go home :/ !! But I think my current plan is to work with Quillynn and Nicholas and just survive this round. Me and Quillynn are basically trying to find anyone to be a 3rd and give us majority lol so I hope it will pay off. Ive barely spoken to anyone tho so its awk I didnt even message Liana until yesterday. But I feel confident in surviving a little bit I guess

QuilLynn

So we ended up losing immunity and lbr it was my terrible jeopardy skills that caused that so um yikes!! I think i'm definitely in danger of going home, I'm one of two heroes and I lost the challenge for our tribe also, have never messaged Liana yet so.. thats not good! Nicholas is my friend, but he's also a villain and a snake so putting faith in him to vote to keep me? not a cute look! Also I love Bryce, but I can see him voting me out just to save himself, I mean I hope he wouldn't do it, but I understand that he potentially could. I know I'm going to feel awful if I go home this round and I just really hope that doesn't happen.

Chips

Alright, so we had an auction where I was hoping to win Chips and Dip because it is a reference to my name. And that's cute - also they can be tasty depending on the kind of dip. I like to eat salsa or cheese dip. Not really so much guacamole because usually they mix it with onions and I have super negative reactions to onion like getting migraines and tossing my cookies. They wouldn't let up in bidding all of their money on the chips and dip so I ended up with running shoes instead. I am glad to replace my shoes with the one that were given to me by production because they were getting raggedy with me running around the island looking for stuff... even though I never do. They're raggedy anyway. So the auction was also a trick of sorts where they assigned the items you could win to tribes so that whatever you won equaled a new tribe for a swap. And so I got swapped onto the tribe that I was already inhabiting - making me solidly the role of a hero^2. https://78.media.tumblr.com/7d1a5d1c5e57899b572bc46a1f20d7ce/tumblr_ohi0x1vidX1vn1j1jo3_250.gif Swapping onto my tribe are Zach and Dana! And staying with me are Jay and Kelsey. Here's the rundown of how I feel about this - I'd like to work with Zach or Dana but they are likely already working together and if they weren't then this swap will make it more likely in that they are two villains amongst three heroes. I need to decide whether to try and scoop them up with Jay or Kelsey or to join with Jay and Kelsey in voting one of them off. I'm not sure at the moment which direction I want to go so I'm just socializing with everyone and keeping my options open. https://m.popkey.co/4bc560/QLJpy_s-200x150.gif So the next challenge was the stay up forever challenge where you shoot darts at people and me and Zach were the last standing of our tribe! Which I think hopefully makes me look like a good contributor and worth working in the game with? I dunno - I hope that's true... at any rate we didn't lose and the other tribe did with their player getting bored/tired/accepting their fate. That player was Nic and he got voted out at the following tribal council so it's kind of an awful position for him to be in. I mean, being the last around whenever no one else was there to pull it out for him! Anyway... that's all I have to say about that, because that's all there is. http://31.media.tumblr.com/d5a54fcf6460728f38b397226b628289/tumblr_mmd9ltjQs11r6xbv8o1_250.gif --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Next round we have to play Jeopardy and then Logan did this thing where he scheduled it at times where I can't play so I get to do the fun thing where I can't show up and can't bond with all of my new friends... which is okay, but also sad. We won immunity by blowing the other teams out of the water which is surprising because I swear Jeopardy is usually very close... Hm? At any rate! I love immunity so I don't have to worry about who to vote out! https://media.giphy.com/media/4bWWKmUnn5E4/giphy.gif Guess I need to go back to socializing. Or also search since I still need to use my extra run with my shoes.

Willa

If we lose immunity and Trixie votes me off I've been a victim of cyber bullying 

Colin

ok so obv us going to tribal isn't.... ideal.... but Survivor is about adaptability!!! I can make it work. I got a plan. So I think on my tribe I like Bryce the most. I get good vibes from him, he has Dua Lipa as a pfp, whats not to like. SO I wanna set an alliance type thing with him into motion. I think the obvious plan on our tribe is going to be voting out Liana. But I don't wanna do that. She was close to Nic, I was close to Nic, and she makes an excellent goat. Merge is probably in the next 2 or 3 rounds, and having another number around is essential. That leaves two potential targets for me. Quil and Nicholas. This is gonna sound crazy but hear me out. They're part of the huge premade that I mention all the time, and every member of that premade is still in. And merge is comin' soon!! That's gonna be a nearly unstoppable force if it's still intact during the merge. It's too late in the game to take out easy targets. We gotta think bigger!! I'll update y'all as soon as I can xoxo

Later...

okay so y'all know how I can never keep my god damn mouth shut right? WELL THAT JUST ACTUALLY WORKED OUT FOR ME FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER. I was talking to Quil about the vote and then??? he brings up the possibility of voting out Nich??? and bitch im SHOOK. So I start talking to him  and it turns out he doesn't wanna be associated with that friend group at all and he is 100% down for tearing down the premade. WHEW, this is honestly perfect. It's a backup in case Bryce isn't on board, and if leaves less room for bad blood for when Nicholas is taken out tonight. I'm so so so happy this worked out whew. That's one less premade member for when the merge hits, and one more ally for me. I really respect Quil for being able to play on his own, and I feel like after just that small conversation I trust him a million percent. Tonight is gonna be fun ladies!

Zach

yeah i won immunity.. that's right. all me. im also bitter that my idol i found today was not for my tribe. wtf??? rude! leaving me to DIE WITHOUT TWO IDOLS? what kind of sorcery. anyway i gave it to trixie for obvious reasons, and ideally idk what to do now. i dont trust dana.

Trixie

Trixie’s Almost-Tragic Tribal Council: So once we swapped, I suggested to nic that since villains have majority we should make an alliance, and nic set up a group with willa and i. Then, we lost the challenge and everything went to YIKES.

Willa and nic were saying to vote christian, which was fine by me, except I had a sneaking suspicion that nic was going to flip with the heroes and take me out. I went to willa and he didn’t seem to care/believe me: cue my freakout. I called bryan and he confirmed that nic had went to him with everything, and that I was the target because I had “friends on the other tribes”. 

So, I knew immediately I had to call the pest control because we got ourselves a snake problem! I talked to christian and said that nic would be the better vote because he’s super shady, and she agreed. I also dropped some stuff that hopefully she would tell bryan cus I knew they were aligned, like how much i trust him, and how nic is just trying to play both sides.

Moral of the story: anybody with the name and or variant of “nic” is a snake. Bye.

Later...

So i’ve been looking for this idol for DAYS. I got chased by a beastly komodo dragon that kind of looked like dana, except a lot cuter and less flaky scaly skin. Anyway, I was really feeling this idol search desperation last tribal but I managed to flip the target from me to nic. But I almost exhausted all possible searches in the east lagoon and then suddenly, I get a message.

A message from the heavenly gods up in the clouds. I remember it clearly: the sun is a beautiful shining rae, the fluffy white clouds part to reveal an angel descending from the skies, holding the most magical item in the world. I am on the ground, a meekly dumb furby staring up stupidly to the skies, watching this divine being. He gifts me an idol and I know now that the angel is zachary rae. It is then that I realize all those years of buying him chicken nuggets has paid off. Thanks filmy lav you xx.

Kelsey

Well good golly Miss Molly, safety first~! It feels great to have immunity once again on this island. Top ten is slowly and slowly becoming more and more real and...it just...I can't believe I'm so close! Back in the reunion of my old season, I remember Jackson saying he underestimated me and I remember telling him to BUG OFF, but now...now, if this keeps up, I may be a true contender to snatch the crown~! I just have to keep PRAYING that these challenges will rely on those with strong physical acumen because if there are ever one on one face offs again, I'm not too sure that can take me to the end. In terms of voting off hookers, I...am still rather nervous about going to a tribal. I still haven't been able to get Chips and Jay in the same room as each other and time's running short because I can just FEEL we're going to have to vote someone eventually. I could always try and throw my lot with Dana and Zachary, but who's to say those two are on good terms? Even more so, what if there's one of each tribe speaking with another? It would be entirely and utterly scary and...I don't even know where to begin in terms of sifting out who is who. I just hope i make it further, goodness KNOWS I deserve it! And THAT'S all there is to it~! Stream Reputation on Spotify Now! -Kelsey V Mikaelson #TeamIBelieveInYall #TeamBEES

Christian

Thank god trixie won the 5% challenge advantage, because I really wasn't looking forward going to tribal again. I think her and I are pretty solid. So if we did have to attend another tribal, her, Bryan, and I would vote Willa out. I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me lol, unless I'm reading it wrong. 

Liana

It took too long to get on a tribe with Chris and I'm tired so I'm probably getting voted out because I'd rather sleep than talk to strangers.

Jay

So Dana and I straight up crush Jeopardy lol we got 3k and the others got 600. Not to brag but im kinda awesome at trivia :)

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Unit 4 IP 390 law assignment help

College essay writing service Question description You and your partner are a two-person patrol in a rural district of Kansas for a county sheriff’s office. Your area of responsibility is right in the middle of “Tornado Alley.” Two weeks ago, a category 4 tornado touched down at the north end of a town in your jurisdiction and hit a day care. Twenty-two children were in the day care with five care providers. Most of the children were huddled with four of the providers at one end of the structure, where there was little damage. Five of the children, who took shelter with one of the care providers in the other end of the building, were pulled out of the building by the tornado. Four of the children and the caretaker that had been with them were found on a nearby street, all dead from blunt trauma. The fifth child has not been found. The ages of the children are 3–5 years old. Your partner is a young man with a wife of five years. They have two children, ages 3 and 4. When the children’s bodies were found, he started to cry. He did his job the entire time with tears in his eyes. You and your partner searched for almost 36 hours without sleep for the missing child, to no avail. Since this incident, your partner has all but stopped speaking. He misses radio calls and is no longer the observant partner that you had prior to the incident with the tornado strike. You thought it would be just a day or two until he recovered, but he has not rebounded, and it is going on the third week. You have concern for his and your safety as well as the safety of the public. You spoke to him about it, and he told you to mind your own business. The sergeant came to you and asked about your partner because he noticed the symptoms. The sergeant related that he had spoken to the watch commander and was instructed to have you prepare a report of observations, an assessment of the problem, and recommendations for getting the problem solved. In a report of 3–5 pages to the watch commander of the sheriff’s department patrol bureau, explain your concerns about the behavior of your partner. Identify that your relationship prior to 3 weeks ago was excellent. Explain how you believe this is incident driven and why. Determine at least 2 possible disorders that may be impacting your partner. Provide the watch commander with 2 alternatives in terms of getting your partner back on track. Group Portion (1) Discuss the following with your group in the Small Group Discussion Area: How is your partner’s behavior impacting the efficacy of your patrol duties? Explain. What are the key symptoms of what you believe your partner may be going through? Explain. Why are these symptoms dangerous? Explain. How can these symptoms affect you in the short term? In the long term? Be sure to come to a group consensus before continuing on to the next 2 portions of the project. Individual Portion Address the following in at least 1 page: Identify the relationships the partner has in his personal life that may be related to the day care tornado call. Why are these relationships important in this case? Be sure to reference all sources using APA style. Group Portion (2) Address the following as a group in 3–4 pages: Provide at least 2 recommendations for rehabilitating your partner. Explain in detail. Consider what you are going to tell the other deputies when they ask why your partner is relieved of duty. Be sure to reference all sources using APA style. Please add your file. For assistance with your assignment, please use your text, Web resources, and all course materials.

NOTE ADD MY NAME: Andres Quiles Class: CRJS 390 Date: July 11, 2017 School: AIU Online

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Unit 4 IP 390 law assignment help

College essay writing service Question description You and your partner are a two-person patrol in a rural district of Kansas for a county sheriff’s office. Your area of responsibility is right in the middle of “Tornado Alley.” Two weeks ago, a category 4 tornado touched down at the north end of a town in your jurisdiction and hit a day care. Twenty-two children were in the day care with five care providers. Most of the children were huddled with four of the providers at one end of the structure, where there was little damage. Five of the children, who took shelter with one of the care providers in the other end of the building, were pulled out of the building by the tornado. Four of the children and the caretaker that had been with them were found on a nearby street, all dead from blunt trauma. The fifth child has not been found. The ages of the children are 3–5 years old. Your partner is a young man with a wife of five years. They have two children, ages 3 and 4. When the children’s bodies were found, he started to cry. He did his job the entire time with tears in his eyes. You and your partner searched for almost 36 hours without sleep for the missing child, to no avail. Since this incident, your partner has all but stopped speaking. He misses radio calls and is no longer the observant partner that you had prior to the incident with the tornado strike. You thought it would be just a day or two until he recovered, but he has not rebounded, and it is going on the third week. You have concern for his and your safety as well as the safety of the public. You spoke to him about it, and he told you to mind your own business. The sergeant came to you and asked about your partner because he noticed the symptoms. The sergeant related that he had spoken to the watch commander and was instructed to have you prepare a report of observations, an assessment of the problem, and recommendations for getting the problem solved. In a report of 3–5 pages to the watch commander of the sheriff’s department patrol bureau, explain your concerns about the behavior of your partner. Identify that your relationship prior to 3 weeks ago was excellent. Explain how you believe this is incident driven and why. Determine at least 2 possible disorders that may be impacting your partner. Provide the watch commander with 2 alternatives in terms of getting your partner back on track. Group Portion (1) Discuss the following with your group in the Small Group Discussion Area: How is your partner’s behavior impacting the efficacy of your patrol duties? Explain. What are the key symptoms of what you believe your partner may be going through? Explain. Why are these symptoms dangerous? Explain. How can these symptoms affect you in the short term? In the long term? Be sure to come to a group consensus before continuing on to the next 2 portions of the project. Individual Portion Address the following in at least 1 page: Identify the relationships the partner has in his personal life that may be related to the day care tornado call. Why are these relationships important in this case? Be sure to reference all sources using APA style. Group Portion (2) Address the following as a group in 3–4 pages: Provide at least 2 recommendations for rehabilitating your partner. Explain in detail. Consider what you are going to tell the other deputies when they ask why your partner is relieved of duty. Be sure to reference all sources using APA style. Please add your file. For assistance with your assignment, please use your text, Web resources, and all course materials.

NOTE ADD MY NAME: Andres Quiles Class: CRJS 390 Date: July 11, 2017 School: AIU Online

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Unit 4 IP 390 law assignment help

College essay writing service Question description You and your partner are a two-person patrol in a rural district of Kansas for a county sheriff’s office. Your area of responsibility is right in the middle of “Tornado Alley.” Two weeks ago, a category 4 tornado touched down at the north end of a town in your jurisdiction and hit a day care. Twenty-two children were in the day care with five care providers. Most of the children were huddled with four of the providers at one end of the structure, where there was little damage. Five of the children, who took shelter with one of the care providers in the other end of the building, were pulled out of the building by the tornado. Four of the children and the caretaker that had been with them were found on a nearby street, all dead from blunt trauma. The fifth child has not been found. The ages of the children are 3–5 years old. Your partner is a young man with a wife of five years. They have two children, ages 3 and 4. When the children’s bodies were found, he started to cry. He did his job the entire time with tears in his eyes. You and your partner searched for almost 36 hours without sleep for the missing child, to no avail. Since this incident, your partner has all but stopped speaking. He misses radio calls and is no longer the observant partner that you had prior to the incident with the tornado strike. You thought it would be just a day or two until he recovered, but he has not rebounded, and it is going on the third week. You have concern for his and your safety as well as the safety of the public. You spoke to him about it, and he told you to mind your own business. The sergeant came to you and asked about your partner because he noticed the symptoms. The sergeant related that he had spoken to the watch commander and was instructed to have you prepare a report of observations, an assessment of the problem, and recommendations for getting the problem solved. In a report of 3–5 pages to the watch commander of the sheriff’s department patrol bureau, explain your concerns about the behavior of your partner. Identify that your relationship prior to 3 weeks ago was excellent. Explain how you believe this is incident driven and why. Determine at least 2 possible disorders that may be impacting your partner. Provide the watch commander with 2 alternatives in terms of getting your partner back on track. Group Portion (1) Discuss the following with your group in the Small Group Discussion Area: How is your partner’s behavior impacting the efficacy of your patrol duties? Explain. What are the key symptoms of what you believe your partner may be going through? Explain. Why are these symptoms dangerous? Explain. How can these symptoms affect you in the short term? In the long term? Be sure to come to a group consensus before continuing on to the next 2 portions of the project. Individual Portion Address the following in at least 1 page: Identify the relationships the partner has in his personal life that may be related to the day care tornado call. Why are these relationships important in this case? Be sure to reference all sources using APA style. Group Portion (2) Address the following as a group in 3–4 pages: Provide at least 2 recommendations for rehabilitating your partner. Explain in detail. Consider what you are going to tell the other deputies when they ask why your partner is relieved of duty. Be sure to reference all sources using APA style. Please add your file. For assistance with your assignment, please use your text, Web resources, and all course materials.

NOTE ADD MY NAME: Andres Quiles Class: CRJS 390 Date: July 11, 2017 School: AIU Online

This is all I need in the hea Do You want us to complete a custom paper for you based on the above instructions? Give us your preferred deadline by clicking on the ORDER NOW button below. Welcome to USGradeMiners – The Home of Homework Help!

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College essay writing service Question description You and your partner are a two-person patrol in a rural district of Kansas for a county sheriff’s office. Your area of responsibility is right in the middle of “Tornado Alley.” Two weeks ago, a category 4 tornado touched down at the north end of a town in your jurisdiction and hit a day care. Twenty-two children were in the day care with five care providers. Most of the children were huddled with four of the providers at one end of the structure, where there was little damage. Five of the children, who took shelter with one of the care providers in the other end of the building, were pulled out of the building by the tornado. Four of the children and the caretaker that had been with them were found on a nearby street, all dead from blunt trauma. The fifth child has not been found. The ages of the children are 3–5 years old. Your partner is a young man with a wife of five years. They have two children, ages 3 and 4. When the children’s bodies were found, he started to cry. He did his job the entire time with tears in his eyes. You and your partner searched for almost 36 hours without sleep for the missing child, to no avail. Since this incident, your partner has all but stopped speaking. He misses radio calls and is no longer the observant partner that you had prior to the incident with the tornado strike. You thought it would be just a day or two until he recovered, but he has not rebounded, and it is going on the third week. You have concern for his and your safety as well as the safety of the public. You spoke to him about it, and he told you to mind your own business. The sergeant came to you and asked about your partner because he noticed the symptoms. The sergeant related that he had spoken to the watch commander and was instructed to have you prepare a report of observations, an assessment of the problem, and recommendations for getting the problem solved. In a report of 3–5 pages to the watch commander of the sheriff’s department patrol bureau, explain your concerns about the behavior of your partner. Identify that your relationship prior to 3 weeks ago was excellent. Explain how you believe this is incident driven and why. Determine at least 2 possible disorders that may be impacting your partner. Provide the watch commander with 2 alternatives in terms of getting your partner back on track. Group Portion (1) Discuss the following with your group in the Small Group Discussion Area: How is your partner’s behavior impacting the efficacy of your patrol duties? Explain. What are the key symptoms of what you believe your partner may be going through? Explain. Why are these symptoms dangerous? Explain. How can these symptoms affect you in the short term? In the long term? Be sure to come to a group consensus before continuing on to the next 2 portions of the project. Individual Portion Address the following in at least 1 page: Identify the relationships the partner has in his personal life that may be related to the day care tornado call. Why are these relationships important in this case? Be sure to reference all sources using APA style. Group Portion (2) Address the following as a group in 3–4 pages: Provide at least 2 recommendations for rehabilitating your partner. Explain in detail. Consider what you are going to tell the other deputies when they ask why your partner is relieved of duty. Be sure to reference all sources using APA style. Please add your file. For assistance with your assignment, please use your text, Web resources, and all course materials.

NOTE ADD MY NAME: Andres Quiles Class: CRJS 390 Date: July 11, 2017 School: AIU Online

This is all I need in the hea Do You want us to complete a custom paper for you based on the above instructions? Give us your preferred deadline by clicking on the ORDER NOW button below. Welcome to MyCourseworkHelp – The Home of Homework Help!

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College essay writing service Question description You and your partner are a two-person patrol in a rural district of Kansas for a county sheriff’s office. Your area of responsibility is right in the middle of “Tornado Alley.” Two weeks ago, a category 4 tornado touched down at the north end of a town in your jurisdiction and hit a day care. Twenty-two children were in the day care with five care providers. Most of the children were huddled with four of the providers at one end of the structure, where there was little damage. Five of the children, who took shelter with one of the care providers in the other end of the building, were pulled out of the building by the tornado. Four of the children and the caretaker that had been with them were found on a nearby street, all dead from blunt trauma. The fifth child has not been found. The ages of the children are 3–5 years old. Your partner is a young man with a wife of five years. They have two children, ages 3 and 4. When the children’s bodies were found, he started to cry. He did his job the entire time with tears in his eyes. You and your partner searched for almost 36 hours without sleep for the missing child, to no avail. Since this incident, your partner has all but stopped speaking. He misses radio calls and is no longer the observant partner that you had prior to the incident with the tornado strike. You thought it would be just a day or two until he recovered, but he has not rebounded, and it is going on the third week. You have concern for his and your safety as well as the safety of the public. You spoke to him about it, and he told you to mind your own business. The sergeant came to you and asked about your partner because he noticed the symptoms. The sergeant related that he had spoken to the watch commander and was instructed to have you prepare a report of observations, an assessment of the problem, and recommendations for getting the problem solved. In a report of 3–5 pages to the watch commander of the sheriff’s department patrol bureau, explain your concerns about the behavior of your partner. Identify that your relationship prior to 3 weeks ago was excellent. Explain how you believe this is incident driven and why. Determine at least 2 possible disorders that may be impacting your partner. Provide the watch commander with 2 alternatives in terms of getting your partner back on track. Group Portion (1) Discuss the following with your group in the Small Group Discussion Area: How is your partner’s behavior impacting the efficacy of your patrol duties? Explain. What are the key symptoms of what you believe your partner may be going through? Explain. Why are these symptoms dangerous? Explain. How can these symptoms affect you in the short term? In the long term? Be sure to come to a group consensus before continuing on to the next 2 portions of the project. Individual Portion Address the following in at least 1 page: Identify the relationships the partner has in his personal life that may be related to the day care tornado call. Why are these relationships important in this case? Be sure to reference all sources using APA style. Group Portion (2) Address the following as a group in 3–4 pages: Provide at least 2 recommendations for rehabilitating your partner. Explain in detail. Consider what you are going to tell the other deputies when they ask why your partner is relieved of duty. Be sure to reference all sources using APA style. Please add your file. For assistance with your assignment, please use your text, Web resources, and all course materials.

NOTE ADD MY NAME: Andres Quiles Class: CRJS 390 Date: July 11, 2017 School: AIU Online

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College essay writing service Question description You and your partner are a two-person patrol in a rural district of Kansas for a county sheriff’s office. Your area of responsibility is right in the middle of “Tornado Alley.” Two weeks ago, a category 4 tornado touched down at the north end of a town in your jurisdiction and hit a day care. Twenty-two children were in the day care with five care providers. Most of the children were huddled with four of the providers at one end of the structure, where there was little damage. Five of the children, who took shelter with one of the care providers in the other end of the building, were pulled out of the building by the tornado. Four of the children and the caretaker that had been with them were found on a nearby street, all dead from blunt trauma. The fifth child has not been found. The ages of the children are 3–5 years old. Your partner is a young man with a wife of five years. They have two children, ages 3 and 4. When the children’s bodies were found, he started to cry. He did his job the entire time with tears in his eyes. You and your partner searched for almost 36 hours without sleep for the missing child, to no avail. Since this incident, your partner has all but stopped speaking. He misses radio calls and is no longer the observant partner that you had prior to the incident with the tornado strike. You thought it would be just a day or two until he recovered, but he has not rebounded, and it is going on the third week. You have concern for his and your safety as well as the safety of the public. You spoke to him about it, and he told you to mind your own business. The sergeant came to you and asked about your partner because he noticed the symptoms. The sergeant related that he had spoken to the watch commander and was instructed to have you prepare a report of observations, an assessment of the problem, and recommendations for getting the problem solved. In a report of 3–5 pages to the watch commander of the sheriff’s department patrol bureau, explain your concerns about the behavior of your partner. Identify that your relationship prior to 3 weeks ago was excellent. Explain how you believe this is incident driven and why. Determine at least 2 possible disorders that may be impacting your partner. Provide the watch commander with 2 alternatives in terms of getting your partner back on track. Group Portion (1) Discuss the following with your group in the Small Group Discussion Area: How is your partner’s behavior impacting the efficacy of your patrol duties? Explain. What are the key symptoms of what you believe your partner may be going through? Explain. Why are these symptoms dangerous? Explain. How can these symptoms affect you in the short term? In the long term? Be sure to come to a group consensus before continuing on to the next 2 portions of the project. Individual Portion Address the following in at least 1 page: Identify the relationships the partner has in his personal life that may be related to the day care tornado call. Why are these relationships important in this case? Be sure to reference all sources using APA style. Group Portion (2) Address the following as a group in 3–4 pages: Provide at least 2 recommendations for rehabilitating your partner. Explain in detail. Consider what you are going to tell the other deputies when they ask why your partner is relieved of duty. Be sure to reference all sources using APA style. Please add your file. For assistance with your assignment, please use your text, Web resources, and all course materials.

NOTE ADD MY NAME: Andres Quiles Class: CRJS 390 Date: July 11, 2017 School: AIU Online

This is all I need in the hea Do You want us to complete a custom paper for you based on the above instructions? Give us your preferred deadline by clicking on the ORDER NOW button below. Welcome to USGradeMiners – The Home of Homework Help!

Get a 5 % discount on an order above $ 100 Use the following coupon code : USGM5

Order Now

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 CLICK HERE TO ORDER THIS OR A SIMILAR PAPER  From AcademicWritersBay.com

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