#rat or majestic long nosed dog hair | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

papers4me · 4 years ago

Text

Fruits Basket SE02 (ep,7), Part 1

Tohru & the cracked mask:

Tohru wears masks in front of both the characters within the show & the viewers. we rarely sense sth is wrong with her. In the new years ep, we never knew until Hana told us & Kyo in the last ep. Thanks to hiro, tohru is still dwelling in her mom issues. she’s now super sensitive that she hurt others which scares her. This fear takes her off guard & shes drop her mask momentarily being at loss on how to cover up her feelings, awkwardly using words & actions to cover up her slip up. Lucky for her, they all brush it off as tohru being tohru. Aside from hiro’s guilty conscious &. Mr. Detective Cat, (specializing in Rice-ball cases).

-Kyo approaches Tohru casually, sits comfortably & brings the topic frankly. There’s no planning or deliberate tactics. It comes naturally to him. Direct question “did hiro say sth weird to you?”. He didn’t hide that he was concerned & expressed his feelings honestly, “ This is what makes me worry” “didn’t I say it throws me off”. It’s okay to complain, remember? “I though I already told you” is the biggest indication of how open, genuine & normal kyo is with tohru. For kyo talking abt his parents is talking abt the source of his trauma & he thought he told her already!! That’s how much he trusted her! “ my mother kill..was killed in an accident” kyo was ready to say it as it is & I’m glad he didn’t. This is tohru in her most vulnerable moment yet, telling her his mom committed suicide would’ve troubled her deeply. She’ll feel so sorry for both of them & We know how much kyo hates pity. Although tohru hasn’t complained to kyo directly, he connected the dots. She’s sensitive abt her mom’s stories. He even guessed the topic: untold mom-memory that involves watermelon splitting. Tell the story tohru~ kyo will listen. don’t ever hold sth back by force. open up, girl! It’ll take you time, I know..but plz open up little by little. Kyo staring fondly at tohru, noticing her every detail is very romantic, him finishing her sentence for her is very liberating for tohru. yes, ur mom’s story is fun, Don’t be oversensitive & hide it. “ it IS fun”. The body language with her hand resting on his knee is very a intimate gesture for tohru!! the girl who still bows to Yuki & shigure despite living with them & talks very formally with close friends.

The angelic mother vs the troubled teen girl:

The way tohru was drawn while covering the sleeping kids reminds me of how kyoko was drawn in tohru’s memories & how most mothers are drawn in anime. So tender, with a doting smile, flowing hair, affectionate stare & kind face. Like an angel hovering around helpless children. Interestingly, that image was seen from Yuki’s perspective alone. Both haru & kyo were there but only yuki pictured this. This reminded me of another scene where tohru was drawn motherly & angelic, In Kisa ep in SE01. kisa slept in her lap & all yuki wanted was to rest in her shoulders. This is heavily contrasted with how kyo saw tohru with the kids. His thought was “The kids are so carefree” normal comment you’d expect from a tired adult abt children. What kyo saw was a troubled teen who was awkwardly hiding her pain & tragically missing her late mother. She is someone who needs to a push to vent, someone who is NOT okay. This brings other scenes as well. From kyo’s perspective tohru is someone who he can gently hit on the head for being spacey, or tease for nose dripping while crying, or blush at excessively for trying on a swimsuit. To sum up, Yuki sees her as an angelic mother & kyo sees her as real person. I must say I’m completely amazed at how the visuals as used to convey the difference between the two boys in regard to tohru. That’s how visual tools & story telling should be combined & used!

Yuki opened the lid:

Hiding the content of Akito’s encounter with Yuki is done to mirror Yuki’s uncertain & unresolved feelings. However, while yuki didn’t tell us what happened, he told us his feelings afterwards. Yuki opened the lid. He faced Akito & he wasn’t as shaken as before. I love that opening the lid doesn’t automatically mean that you are healed. It means that you are now facing your trauma & trying to figure out how to deal with it without relying much on faulty coping mechanisms. You are still using these faulty ways at the moment but you are actively searching for healthier ways.

-Yuki knows he isn’t as useless as Akito tried to instill in him.. He saved someone & by saving her, he himself was far more saved in every sense of the word. If Yuki didn’t save young tohru, someone else would have whether the police or her mom. This incident didn’t change tohru’s life much. But if yuki didn’t save young tohru, he wouldn’t have been able to believe in himself. He can never repay her back for that moment & for the warmth & joy that she shared with him. Being forever indebted is bittersweet. This is what the whole falling stars scene felt to me..so bittersweet. For sometime, I was a bit confused on why I felt as sad as Yuki & as confused as tohru. But now I think I get it. The gratefulness that he feels is coupled with the feeling of incompleteness. To him, tohru is like the sky, so majestic, enveloping all creatures below her with rain & warmth. But also far away. Skies are kinda similar to mothers, always there for you, but you can’t look at them forever. Yuki can’t tell tohru abt the hat yet, because he wants to be able to say it happily & strongly, rather than sadly & weakly. He wants to stand on his feet to say it NOT bend & rest on her shoulders as he’s doing now & as he did in Kisa’s ep in SE01. “ you are so dear to me/I don’t know what I would do without you” are both expressions that imply Yuki’s appreciation of her yet his sadness in being dependable on her warmth & his sorrow that he’ll never give her back as much as she unknowingly did. He needs to be his own person first. He can do it now step by step as he’s learning to deal with Akito differently.

Side notes:

This post is abt the rat, the cat & the rice-ball. (The dog in part 2)

I’m so happy to see my girl sharing the spotlight this season! & by the spotlight I mean the darkness. Crack that fake mask little by little.

Tohru is falsely presented as the perfect angel who helps others while under her mask, she’s the opposite!! she’s a REAL person! someone who’s so lost & sad & lonely! I love how she’s written!! can’t wait for her content!! please let it be next ep!! plz!!

I was right! Yuki get to open his lid first.

Kisa’s fear of Akito harming tohru is sad.

Akito hating sunshine-momiji goes well with her dark theme.

both hiro & kyo have no patience for nonsense XD.

I can’t be the only one who noticed that since tohru with sleeping kids was drawn deliberately to resemble a mother, the way the show drew kyo approaching & sitting resembled a father! like a mom & dad having a rest after a long hard day with their kids outside. It gives off strong little family feels. They both looked like young adults more than teenagers, especially when tohru was telling kyo to not wake up the kids.

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #lonely paper #part 1 #SE02

18 notes · View notes

whitequeenasitbgan · 5 years ago

Text

The House of Smoke and Fog Cap 10

May, 1917

Erin was walking around the garden early in the morning: she had lost weight, she was as pale as a corpse and her appetite was gone. She vomited every time she tried to content her mother and eat. She was nauseated by herself: she couldn’t even bear to look at herself in the mirror. He was dead. He probably died not knowing how sorry she was for not saying goodbye to him: he never answered her letter, after all; how could she be sure he knew. Not knowing how he had died was a torture. Did he suffer? Was he scared? Did he lay in the mud alone for hours before it all ended? She knew nothing. If only he could have relied on her, in his last moments. Maybe it wouldn’t have made any difference, he would have suffered just the same, but she felt like she failed him. Every human beings need to know they were loved when their life is about to end. He needed to know that he was loved. He needed her. But she wasn’t there.

She heard a horse galloping down the alley. When she turned, she noticed the horses were two and on one of them she recognised Joe. He greeted Mr Evans, they exchanged a few words, a pat on the shoulder. Then Joe came towards her. -Would you like a ride? -I’m not in the mood, Joe… but I’m happy to see you home, safe. -Tom wouldn’t be happy to know I’ve left to go back to France without talking to you. Tom. Everything reminded her of him. Erin exhaled loudly -I hate all this- she said as she took the reins from Joe. -Erin! you’re not in the right attire for riding! Your knees will be showing!- Her mother screamed. She didn’t care. Female propriety couldn’t have bothered her less. -Don’t worry, Mrs Evans. I’ll make sure no one will see her - Joe said, as he galloped to reach Erin.

They rode silently through the woods. Erin stopped at the clearing where Tom used to teach her how to ride. Joe left the horses browsing on, then sat by her side, against Tom’s favourite tree. -She used to sit hear and scream at me ‘look forward! Heels down!’ all the time- she said, breaking the silence -He taught you well - silence. An awkward silence. Tom used to fill it with a joke. -My mom said you might have wanted to know… more. -About? -How he died Erin turned at Joe, astonished -You know? How? -I wasn’t with him, but I met a soldier. Name is Schofield. He was with him. -What happened, then? He told her everything. About the mission, the Letter, Erinmore, a guy named Leslie who warned them, the German trenches, the dugout, the rat, how Tom saved his mate as the earth was about to bury them, about the cherries.. and finally about the farm. -He had to help him. Bastard Boche- Joe said. He was crying. His voice was calm as usual, his breaths were regular, but tears were falling down his eyes. He cried like Anne. -So that’s where he left him? at this farm, near Ecouste? -Yes… I imagine they took care of him, but we don’t know if we will ever get the chance to.. well, bury the body. -I understand. Did he suffer? -I don’t think so -You’re like Anne… -Anne who? -My best friend, Anne Shirley -Last time I saw her was ages ago -She’s changed a lot since then. We all are. But she never learned how to lie. Neither you did. -My mom doesn’t know. I think my dad does, but she couldn’t bear it. -I can. I want to. He was stabbed, Joe. I know what that means. He bled to death. -Not for long. -Not quickly enough, though. -And there’s more- Joe said. He was embarrassed. Visibly. -What else? -Schofield said he had just received mail, before he left. One from mom right before Erinmore summoned them. And one from you, the night before. Spent all night talking about it with Schofield. He had so many things to tell you… I know this is a bit private and that Tom would have said all this way better than me… Anyway the point is: he felt like there was nothing to forgive, it was all his fault… -it wasn’t. We were two fools. No, two morons, definitely morons Joe laughed, struggling to keep going -he wanted to tell you the he was sorry about what happened cause it made you skip a year in college and he encouraged you to go ahead, follow you dream, cause the last thing he wanted was to stop you from doing what you wanted with your life. He said he was looking forward to meeting you. And that he loved you. He always had and he always would have. Erin was relieved, but not as she expected to be by the news. She had dreamed of it: she had dreamed to receive an answer to her letter, sooner or later, in which he said those things. She even dreamed he was still alive once and that she still had a chance to be with him one more time. But now that she knew that yes, he had forgiven her and that he still loved her, knowing for sure that he was dead made it all even more cruel. They remained silent, for a while. -What are you going to do, now?- Joe asked. -King’s Scholarship Examinations, I suppose. Then, if successful, I’ll attend training college for two years. -Sounds great…Have you thought where? -Westminster Training College -London? Your parents? -They don’t like the idea of me going to London alone. But knowing I’ll be with Anne has finally convinced them to let me go. They would have had to face Anne’s fury if they didn’t. -This is… Men are so privileged I’m disgusted by my own gender -A feminist, ladies and gentlemen! -And I also support the suffragettes. Every man should. How could a non represented woman give birth to a free mind -Don’t ever get involved with politics -Why I’m not good at it? -No, you’re great at it. People like you usually get killed. You could start a revolution. -I’ll just help you with yours, as much as I can- Joe said, turning to look at Erin. She looked thoughtful -what is it? -Nothing -Erin… -Ok… It’s just that my world has turned upside down: I.. I was meant to be married by now. Tom should have been with me, in London. I don’t feel as invincible as I felt before. I know it sounds pathetic, but I just miss Tom and how he made me feel safe and powerful. -It’s not pathetic -It is -Erin said. She wasn’t comfortable with her weaknesses. She tried to cheer up the conversation -Not to mention that it would have been much better if my parents knew Tom was always with me there to ‘guard me’ Joe started laughing. It was a genuine belly laugh -Tom?! He needed surveillance himself! God knows how many times I had to take him home dead drunk from the pub. Mum never found out. -You were very discrete…- Erin said, closing her eyes to catch a glimpse of sun, before he got back playing hide and sick with the clouds -Thanks for this, Joe -You’re like a sister to me, you know that. Anything you’ll ever need, I’ll be there. I mean this. I owe this to Tom. -Just be careful, that’s all I need - Erin said. Placing a hand on Joe’s shoulder and gently squeezing it. He felt nothing like his brother. He was way more muscular and rough than Tom. Had they been dogs, Joe would have been a majestic and elegant Great Dane. Tom wasn’t a pure breed, he had the energy of a Dalmatian and the hard working attitude of a Shepard. He was good looking but not in a rough way: he was sweet. He looked at you like a stray dog, as if he was asking ‘can I believe in you or will you just let me down?’. He he did look at you as if he deeply believed in you. He really did. -Time to go home - Erin said. -Sure I can’t do anything else for you?- -You know what? Actually there is something You could do for us -Us who? -Anne and me. You could take us to London on your way to France.

‘This is it’ Erin thought as the train was running towards London, leaving the countryside behind ‘this is the future’. Anne was right in front of her, talking to Joe. And Joe looked bewitched by her. What a fool: he wondered around London for so long until he ended up in the trenches that he missed to notice there was an extraordinary young woman right under his nose. She was a girl when he left, no corset, no hair… and he was Tom’s big brother, of course he didn’t notice. How much time did they lose. They all did. Erin smiled, contemplating happiness, then she turned at the window again. It was open, so she got closer to it and lifted her head to catch the breeze. The sun was warmly kissing her. ‘This is the future, Tom. You are in everything. And all that I’ll do will be for you’.

Cap 11

https://whitequeenasitbgan.tumblr.com/post/613333193352953856/the-house-of-smoke-and-fog-cap-11

#1917 film #tom blake #blake x reader #william schofield #ww1 #dean charles chapman

6 notes · View notes

spookyspaghettisundae · 6 years ago

Text

Diamond's Best Friend

Beyond a blanket of light spilling out of the door, a thick pitch-black darkness obscured the hallway. Diamond stood there, still in the light, hesitating to exit. Clad only in pajamas and barefoot left her feeling more vulnerable than ever.

Yet it was her home. The light switch only a few paces away. Just a few steps into the unsettling embrace of shadows. A few steps in which anything could be waiting.

Anything.

Of course it was ridiculous. She knew better. Her imagination liked to run wild, especially in moments like now—right after having watched a scary movie. The possibility of something lurking in the darkness, only visible when you turn around, always stalking along behind you. Even though it made no sense, her heart pounded with dread.

The TV was now off, the whole house silent. Her boyfriend away on a business trip. Only Kieran was here, somewhere in the building. This silence disturbed her more than anything. She held her breath to listen, to hear anything at all. Even though he was nice, Kieran kind of scared her. Ever since he had gone missing for a few days and returned, he had been acting strange and distant. And unpredictable.

Her soles squeaked on the wooden floor as she crossed the distance to the light switch in rapid steps. Her hand slapped against the wall before she hit the switch and the lamps lining the hallway flickered on.

The blood froze in her veins and she stood there, paralyzed, staring at Kieran.

The white-haired husky stared back at her from the end of the hallway. His icy blue eyes reminded her of a wolf and seemed to have gotten brighter and eerier to look at. Much more so than ever before. Studying her intensely with an intelligence that seemed out of place in even the brightest animals. Something that could have been endearing under other circumstances, but now only made Diamond feel like prey in her own home.

Her boyfriend James had brought Kieran home when he was still a pup. Diamond raised him into the majestic beast that he was now, almost ten years later. But the loving, cuddly dog had never been the same since his mysterious disappearance and return.

“Hey, buddy,” she said. Her voice trembled. She swallowed and gave her fuzzy friend a nervous smile. She was not fooling anybody.

Kieran cocked his head to the side and then trotted away, rounding the corner and descending down the stairs to the ground floor.

Even though it was clean now, she found it difficult to forget the sight of his snout that other time, all covered in blood. James and her had wondered if he had gotten into trouble and bitten somebody, but no reports or complaints ever turned up. They figured that Kieran must have killed some animal out in the woods. That was unlike him—he was always a “good boy"—the “best boy” who would never harm a fly.

But the time she had spent trying to wash the blood out of his fur made any attempt at explaining it only add to the fear that he instilled in Diamond now. Their dog had not been eating anything they were trying to feed him lately. He slept in the basement most of the day. Just like—

She remembered the movie she had just watched with its terrible special effects and animatronic creatures. She shook her head and shivered, then grinned over her own silliness and chalked everything up to her overactive imagination.

Until she thought she saw something from the corner of her eyes, darting from one open door to another, disappearing in the darkness of unlit rooms. Her pulse raced again and she found herself short of breath, walking so fast down the hallway now because she imagined some tiny rat-sized critter to be following her. Ready to sink its diminutive teeth into her exposed ankles.

She really needed to stop watching those stupid movies.

Diamond switched the lights on wherever she went, hoping the absence of darkness would cause those imaginary things cause to turn and flee.

In the living room, she saw Kieran curled up on his little bed, his eyes closed. Diamond stared at him for a moment and watched the subtle movements of his body. Unlike when she used to snuggle up with him and James and she was the last one awake, she could not spot his body heaving with breathing. Maybe he was not just getting weird, but old.

She shook her head again and turned away and finally found her fur-lined mules in the foyer where she had forgotten them. Diamond slipped into them and entered the kitchen, swearing under her breath as it took the neon light too long to flicker on after she had hit the light switch.

She could have sworn she had seen something scurry away under the kitchen table. She gave the table a wide berth and pushed the button on her water cooker to make some tea. While rummaging through a cupboard, Diamond kept shooting glances over her shoulder, making sure that nothing was sneaking out from under the table towards her. Water began to boil in the cooker while she placed a bag of chamomile tea into a mug.

With extreme caution and a painful slowness, she leaned over so she could peer underneath the table without getting too close to it.

Nothing there. Just Kieran’s shiny empty feeding bowl.

When she rose to her feet again, she knocked over her mug. The object’s clattering, as it rolled across the counter and fell into the sink, startled her, but not nearly as much as what had caught her eye and made her freeze with dread.

Two tiny beady eyes, almost glowing red in the overhead light, stared at her. A mangy-looking rat stood on the kitchen table. Its fur looked matted with filth and splatters of dried blood. It looked dead, but it twitched its little nose and hissed. This broke her paralysis and her survival instinct kicked in.

Not taking her eyes off of it, Diamond pawed around in her sink to grab the mug. Or a knife from the wall. Or a rolling pin. It did not matter, she needed something to hit that awful thing. Too late to grab anything though, as it scampered over the surface of the table and lept at her.

A low-pitched growl and a streak of deadly silver dog shot past her and snatched the rat out of the air.

Before Diamond could register what was going on, she covered her mouth with a hand and fought the urge to throw up, already tasting that bitter precursor of vomit in the back of her mouth. The sounds of Kieran snarling and chomping down on the rat horrified her. Tiny snapping bones, ripping flesh and tendons, crunching and smacking and slurping and—

She bent over the sink and held back no longer. She continued to wretch a few more times when the unrecognizable chunky stew of stomach fluids, undigested pizza, and popcorn bits spilled down the drain. The disgusting sounds in the background of Kieran mangling the rat did not help.

Diamond convulsed at the smell of her own vomit and quickly cranked at the faucet, rinsing it all down as fast as humanly possible. She splashed her face and mouth and then ripped some paper towels from the roll on the wall. Using them to wipe over her lips and then cover her mouth with the crumpled ball of towels, she dared to look over at Kieran and the awful rat.

The dog had already vanished. Unsettled even more, she leaned against the counter and quickly scanned her surroundings. Kieran was nowhere to be seen.

Neither was any blood.

Her jaw quivered until she forced herself to set it. Then she overcame her fear and approached the rat’s carcass. That little pile of mangled remains on the floor in the far corner of the room. No blood. Kieran had not even eaten chunks of it, just mauled it.

She prodded it with the tip of her mule and quickly withdrew her foot. Though it had budged through her nudge, the rat remained lifeless. Seeing it up close made things even weirder. The thing looked like it had shriveled up like a prune. All desiccated.

The water in the cooker audibly boiled now, but she had no time for that.

Diamond heard a growl behind her and was too scared to turn. The growl petered out, dropping to a lower register. She knew it had come from Kieran’s throat. It made her think of a wolf, but she thanked the heavens that the sound did not come closer.

When she finally worked up the courage to look over her shoulder, the familiar sight made her fingers and toes tingle and the blood drained from her face.

Kieran stared at her with his icy blue eyes. Just like that time, all those weeks ago, his snout was coated in patches of blood. He opened his mouth and revealed a line of teeth that looked far too long and pointy to be natural for a husky of his size. Like he had grown bloodstained little blades in there. His canine teeth in particular appeared elongated.

Diamond almost jumped out of her own skin when the water cooker finished boiling with a loud “DING.”

Kieran growled again and then strolled away with a supernatural litheness and silence to his steps, disappearing in the direction of the living room.

Fetching a snow shovel from the laundry room, she cringed while using the tool to pick up the dead rat and throw it out the back door into the yard. She would get James to take care of that if no other animal dragged it off.

She tried her best to calm down. There had to be a rational explanation for everything.

When she took a new mug from the cupboard to continue making her tea, he hands trembled so badly that she spilled hot water all over the counter while pouring herself a cup of tea. Her knuckles turned white from gripping the edge of the counter while she tried to remain standing, for her knees buckled like jelly. She kept telling herself that she must be going crazy to think what she was thinking now.

It was completely impossible that her dog, Kieran, was a vampire.

Yet seeing him in the living room again, he lied there in a ball. Blood drying on his snouth. He licked his lips. She clutched onto her cup of tea with both hands, dreading the thought of his eyes opening to cast their frosty gaze at her. He did not open his eyes, no matter how long she stared at him.

She locked her bedroom door that night.

—Submitted by Wratts

1 note · View note

yourhuckleberrypocket · 4 years ago

Text

youtube

- Free texts reading -

Swords? Come on, try another… Kindness, yes! It can be, Aaah, My love for freedom! Go on… A dream?

“Listen to me! You will listen to me! To be a dreamer has no fear! To be a dreamer is to accept the rust in his blood scorned by cheap metals! We are born, because we are called by our fathers, to return what has been lost! And to show them, quit justice, quit peril! Let them show our freedom, and fight as freemen! To be a dreamer is stronger and let them know what we can do! Let them cower! Gentlemen, hoist the colours…”

- Eva Rouelle -

Blacks under the light on silhouette walls, 1792 is a summer of wind and season trying to crawl its sunlight inside the beaming bedroom of the likes of Coraline Jones, but one with happy light and setting. Papers fell on the floor sticky and wet, trash but important. It was all pieces and dirty, and the bigger the book, the bigger my dream. Toys of the like are his hobbies, no, no, but they weren’t toys at all. They were made with joyous plastic now a skeleton, they were covered with playful paintings now broken pieces of wires. His is a spirit of an inventor and mechanic. His stare to mine is much delicate than my stern and my big book of puzzles, his stare to mine is nothing hyperbolic than his dyslexia.

There’s nothing tremendous to my gift I kept on catalogue to myself. Come on, hurt me. Then I’ll red marked the list and leave you. There is like floating potions the reason for Alice’s size, however, they were for invisibility and science nothing matters. The wooden framed picture was a picture of words. Literally, a picture of words. Made by grotesque elements and conventional canvas with the colours of nature wild and whispers. When my hands are stiff enough to rub the colours as the liquid slides away the canvas, majestically the picture with pure written words have revealed.

“Both of you downstairs now”.

“Who’s coming, Mary Poppins?” I answered.

“Just follow-up you two”.

The smile of my friend are described as hidden grimaces of shocked and fear. Gladly, it was swift as time is a thief of hiding the map beneath the bed, trembling. We both went down stairs.

His river of blood running with peaceful happiness inside is almost as synchronous on nature screams. When I came to him in this August the 16th, filling-up applications on black and white. We never knew how smart can we be? We never knew how smarter can we be that we were just given this oddly dull.

“What date is it today?” into his eyes.

“Beg, pardon?” he startled.

“Oh, apologize. 16th I think…”

“Oh, how forbidden, it’s almost September since we’re here”. He fell silent.

My mind is racing with incredulous coasters of ideas and punches, if only I can save the world or annoy from it. How stupid am I. To be so selfish and unlikely, to be boring, and apathy.

“Hold, on… ain’t today your birthday?” I asked gracefully.

“Yes, today is my birthday, you remembered.”

There are no words than a heart of incredulous cycles of blood, sweat, and tears. As I manage my mind to focus on pure things besides love. Love, however, is the reason, on how I tend to focus on things. While looking away a little second, I brushed his skin too closer and applies a gentle touch on his face and planted a kiss on the side of his forehead. Never knew, we both smart kids going on a bright huge competition for Science Investigatories, while enjoying the moment on the touch of a dull paper.

“Happy Birthday”.

I will always be there for you, know that as long as I’m here ‘till death no one will hurt you, I will always take care of you, my genius inventor, the most powerful of his time. Quite enough, brushing his hair makes my mind dim from the room of ideas into a blackout of thoughts about him. How lovely would China be?

One night, while screaming high and low on the face of my professor, a bright red tomato threw his wisdom on me.

“No the place exists, you are completely wrong”. I trembled.

“If only you can prove me”.

The map is not worthy with your red paint expression, the look of yours are a devil deeper than Satan’s pit.

“Fine forget it”. I closed the book like there’s a fly on my hand. I turned.

“Do you want to come with me Will?”

“Where?” He asked.

“Adventure…”

“Do you even have the slightest chance that there will be pirates, and the dead chasing the treasure you want?”

We both climbed the blacks of the walls now turned into shadow pits, swing on trees like the adventure just had begun and dropped on both feet with like lingering stunts on experienced times. Then run away deeply in the dark with the voice of a cannon waving on the land, thought crackers could start a festive but it was the shore tuning me. Run, run away, as Will and I have agreed to create this adventure with trust and courage.

Caribbean stones are a sand and clay as the river flows green and clear. Will, whose heart beats not for him, but along the journey his thoughts of starvation rumbles around to only feast himself by my courage and determination to find the treasure lost from the piece of the pirate’s culture. The big book is as the size as almost as sincere and unusual physically that it already creates my dream, the big book is as the size of the cave with its picture as the lost entrance architecture. The river flows anywhere, snakes are changing skins behind the bottles of rum and rust of metals, a hook and a parrot with circus plays doing trapeze on a rocky feature. It look likes someone’s here already. When Will and I, have found the lost archaeological piece. A pistol is faced in 3 feet.

“Aye, what we got here! Dick, we got dogs!”

“Aye, wha’ ye calling Dick? Eh, while am found the treasure, am Captain!”

“My apologies Captain Dick”.

I forged my steps forward as I swirl my mouth as an unexpected present during birthdays.

“Pirate”…

“Two birds lost flight. Where, oh where, the good old wings, eh?”

“What brought kids here”. Grimace and mocking Captain Dick.

However… minutes later, a bomb was heard in the mouths of the cave, there were aliens of clean and blue. Shiny and white. They were in uniforms and silvers, they were in rings with blackish rifles pointer than their noses.

“I, Lord Dunkin, scavenger of the high seas, and the Lord in the Caribbean government”. “Seas here! Seas these rats around a precious treasure!” Lord Dunkin charges.

There is swashbuckling of rifles and rings of metal swords, when Captain Dick has finally laid his eyes on my map, he then questioned me what I wanted and push Will down the ground.

“Help, this man is bonkers!”

Lord Dunkin, halted his crew and laid his eyes on us, he realized my map and soon left us along with the pirates in which we cannot speak, we cannot move, we cannot fight, we cannot reason in this age, and if will be no one would believe and save us. We were left by the hands of the barbarians and curse you and your Lordly-like crews!

I found hybridity of anger and resentment with these foul and funny dogs altogether in three years’ time. Under the heath of the green of the moon was ever unconventional compared to my Will’s dream. Brushing his soft black hair like the raven’s wings, sleeping peacefully on my lap. It was the great captain enjoying his candies inside the cabin of Queen Anne’s revenge while he fired a powdered pistol to his musicians on board, how stupid is he. Laughter burst out in the darkness and I planted a kiss on Will’s forehead and he chase along the rats of trombones with bigger guns.

“Captain, I here to report.”

“Wha’ is it, my fellow dog who lost his bone sooner you’ll die, why, do must it quick!”

“Lord Dunkin, makes the people sang, thieves, beggars, are all hanged”.

His crewmate had sung, while the captain wasted his song on rum.

“Never knew, you are a poet as long as you living, get out o’here!”

I was startled by the midnight announcement while the moon turned evergreen and carefully I glanced every sides while the crewmates are zombified, while Will and I are already tangible ghosts, not to wake the only person I have now.

The captain’s candies, in such time are a remarkable essence that they weren’t mutinies at all. They were hungry and mad, they were funny and sad, they were idiots and kings. But most of all they were merely having freedom. There is nothing worst with them at all.

“Captain, is it true what I just heard?”

Over the past few weeks, I’ve found kindness to treat the devils, these thieves are beggars if you live with them, know their stories and come along with journey together. With all the remains I have, we have, we have treated them food and entertainment. Living with prates define us dreamers of time and freemen.

“Yes, wee missy, soon, the bonkers old Dunkin, would get the brethren, and we will be hanged like there is no life happened to us”.

“No, it can’t be, we won’t let him.” I answered.

“He just took one of the pirate’s missing cultural piece, he have gone enough!” with bravery.

“A devil will never stop preying even though he feasted himself enough but there will be always a space for more than thousands of souls”. Dick was wailing his teary eyed and clutch from behind his hook.

“Captain, never must you quit! It is a dream of freedom, am I right?” “Yes, wee angel, but my time has come…”

The cannon was shot through the lips of Queen Anne’s Revenge, it was ambush and frightening, my soul has cowered, my soul was dead in seconds that I couldn’t move,

“Captain!”

The great captain Dick is licking his blood and pounded his end in metals.

“You must save the crew and the rest on…. You, will be… captain”.

The great dog and fanged hook is gone. So, terribly gone. He was the luck than his parrot day and night. Now, he choked his own blood easier than his candies.

“You made me captain…”

“Who is the captain in this ship!” cried an enemy.

“Captain, (pointing at the necklace that symbolizes as captain of piracy) her!”

“You! A young and beautiful wee lass”.

I pushed him from his fisted grip on my wrists with force and gradually I became powerful.

“What have you done! I demand to speak with your Lordly Dunkin!”

“There is no right with that, young missy, soon the pirate brethren will be ours”.

“No!” I cried as drawn away.

Suddenly, Will and the other crew members came with thousands of more vessels floating almost at the edge of the horizon, as the break of dawn came – the pirate Lords of Singapore, and China just arrived on time and chase the coward crews of the government away because those dogs just lost way of their bone.

“Dick is dead! He made me captain!”

“What are we going to do, this is sudden!” An ill from the captain of China.

“Run away and find a place for another voyage for piracy’s freedom.” Declared the captain of Singapore.

“No! We must go to war! Protect the brethren”.

The brethren bombed a laughter of mockery while the sea is waving gradually graceful and blue, and out the vessels were afloat to drift as they were about to be doomed by cannons or run away where freedom is never again be defined for them. Will was screaming with the tides of halting one against one, with the idea of war and joined me as the wind passed my dark knight’s hair and numbed expression. After all this time, I thought you were the people, of both with bravery and kindness, the kind of people to achieve ones self as dreamers without ever power to hold you all back, but just bunch of drunken dogs ever to give-up? No, no, no, I’ll enlighten you…

I, Eva Rouelle, captain of Queen Anne’s Revenge, the swan necked people poor and happy with their lives will be protected. Will never face grim and which souls are to be full on the stomach on the sadist. The beggars, the pirates, and others lust in this century for freedom and adventure will, and always will, at the end of it fight the justice of living. And they will never have the palace or brethren where freedom’s home came.

“Aye, hoist the colours…” “Dogs! HOIST THE COLORS… HIGH!”

The break of the dawn became bloodshed from the warm colour of the sunrise,

“Hoist the Colours!”

My words are final and brave, my lover’s hand is cold and ghoul-like, each of us greatly held the sword in our dominant movements and became stronger and stronger, cannons uplifted like crackers which I thought by the time I ran with courage and determination, today is swashbuckling and never mention sea sickness, today is a warrior with grief not knowing blood, rain, or sweat is racing running down on my temples of my silky dusty dress of armour. The clouds grew red, the sun hides, it is where the tale where sailor’s sing: Red sky in morning, Sailor’s take warning. While, two of the crew members Mackenzie and Teddy hid on the foot of Queen Anne’s Revenge. Thought the rain will drop blood, but it was tears of sorrow as the sky took photography of us creating this revolution to end. Lord Dunkin came as I drew my sword on my left-hand, the only one who has the opposite dominant, cheered him with slash on the face and a tumble on the feet, as I stepped a little backward hovering uncertainly as my arm is ripped and the red river flows and I began stumbling backwards. William set forth and drew his right-handed sword of rust,

“Aaah, love.”

Lord Dunkin trembles as I awoke from the bumped of the woods of the great enemy ship, together our swords have ringed and only then William attacked then the Lord discerns at the back almost frightened and confused, he almost stabbed me as my sword slipped down the sea

“End of the line”

“No, a warrior just begun her battles”.

William fired the pistol with one hand and a single bullet, directly into his devil now dying heart.

Rum and loads of rum were being used to exploit the riches of the ship, being sunken with its Lord. The crewmates and the brethren rejoice while bathing bloodshed, and colours of flags the jolly-rogers stayed nationally higher than the clouds. Proud, sicken, powerful, brave, and adventurous.

“Will?... Do you think it’s time to go home?”

“Eva… yes”.

Sadly, the brethren and the Queen Anne’s Revenge bursts into tears and kneels.

“Gentlemen, we were only captured and fed for years, there is only one thing where there is still a way to save and change the world. We cannot held to be pirates forever, but a dream is a dream, you all are the pirates, while we create a new brave world as we share our gifts to the people.”

His hand is soft and kissable, he has the hold of a fisted grip and the hug for a new born, his is a hero who saved me, and I as too save him…

“The canoe is ready Eva and Will, the oars are inside, you both are free”. As Mackenzie bursts into tears. “Thank you…”

Years later, the sea is silent and the waves are still. He read me a-more-than-a-hundred history pages of “Sucesos de las islas Filipinas by Antonio de Morga 1609” while brushing the sand and pour it in my hair, he became the person I helped him become, from being poor and sad and no motivation before me. The smile and wit now uncaged by the day I planted a kiss while wishing him a happy birthday, our dreams yet delayed, but never will be stopped as we helped each other with science and technology, we created the brave new world. But no braver as I am proud that I helped a person to become a hero that he deserves to be, treating his dyslexia, and became the leader literate and has a gift to create as I described to it “a millennial skill”. Where we came from are precious Filipino gifts, more than ever prouder taken our name and our country by the tales while we venture across the world.

As I too saved him, from being patient and trust him to do that he can do it with courage, why, by my gift of words to announce my story: “Each and everyone of us is a hero inside”. Only you yourself can figure it out, the timeline of your entire life has heroism in between. Whether at the end it only passed or it became some legend.

- Moral-

Heroism is defined in different ways by qualities of characteristics of being brave, determined, patient, humble, helper, kindness, fight for love, fight for a dream, unselfish, etc. To stand against what’s stopping you from your dream and even from everyone else’s you do it for them. With a brave heart, helping a single person is already considered as well, a hero to him or her. Just as the mass fighting with battles for revolution that you change his or her or their world. Poverty of mass of thieves and beggars are not as devilish and doesn’t deserved to be treated ill, they are people who longed for living and the government only wants power to rule and sweep away the useless livings. The punishments before were massacres never quite imagined by millenials today. We all have dreams to stop a war, we all have dreams to achieve this single thing as we became the person we longed to be, we all have dreams in different ways beyond our limitation. With courage and kindness, we are warriors that the humans we are in creation.

0 notes