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lunarliyah · 3 years ago

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Astro Observations Part 7 🏵

By lunar liyah

A lot of Aries placements/mars dominate people are into entrepreneurship. They will only work for themselves.

They’re good at executing a project or business. These people may or may not be the best at coming up with the most effective and creative ideas, but they’re the people who get the ball rolling. They don’t overthink. They don’t sit on plans. They just start. That’s what it takes to be a strong entrepreneur at that. Not the most creative or innovative, someone who is brave enough to just start. It works for them because they are the sign of impulse so sometimes planning and being strategic is not necessary.

Sagittarius risings do great in any social setting.

Venus ruled men make great actors. Two of my favorite actors are Michael Rainy jr and Demetrius Flenory jr.

The charisma and charm (Taurus) it takes to play a role and being able to relate and portray the characters on the script. (Libra)

7h sun/Libra moon people love love. They want a relationship. These could be people who date to marry. Not the people who date for experiences. They are most likely in it for the long run.

Sagittarius sun women are extraordinary. These women have HUGE personalities. I’ve never met an introverted, closed off, dull, etc sagittarius women. Shout out to y’all! Y’all my fav! So unapologetic, keep that <3!

Mutable dominate individuals can a lot have conflicted feelings or thoughts. These people can feel confused a lot, their mind really goes a mile a minute.

Pluto sag generation are true truth seekers and rebellious. You see how upset sag gen gets previous generations. They love to call sag gen sensitive!

Mutable Risings can look like 20 different people lol. But no, these people could make a slight change in appearance and look completely different. Plus they tend to change their look often too. Kim K for example (Sagittarius rising)

Sidereal Pisces are more Pisces like than actual Pisces. What I mean is that a lot of Aries sun people in tropical Astrology love escapism like drinking or other vices similar to that. A lot of Aries women do have this soft/sensual touch to their personality. These people in love…I really don’t even have to explain.

Summer Walker, the singer, is a sidereal Pisces sun, her music is about love, loosing herself in love, and being with people she shouldn’t be with, that selflessness! That’s Pisces energy that can manifest.

Ari Lennox, the singer, is also a Pisces sidereal sun, she loves wine and she is very sensual. Her voice is soft (like Summer’s too) and majority of her music is about love.

Not to mention, these people (Tropical Aries sun) seem soo mutable. Like yes they’re fast paced, like a typical Aries, but it seems like they can fit in anywhere. They’re very good at fitting in, if the sun, moon, mercury is not afflicted.

Uranus aspects and Aquarius placements that aren’t so good at fitting in. In fact, that’s their whole brand, not fitting in and to stand out. Mainly aspects to the moon and Aquarius moon and mercury. They aren’t the people to change up in a crowd to blend in like a chamaeleon. Even if they tried, probably could never pull it off. And they will be perceived as very weird. More weird than usual. And others can definitely tell.

Chiron aspecting the sun, yes even oppositions, can manifest a very violent and sadistic person. Check the charts of criminals and you’ll see Chiron all up in the chart if it’s not aspecting the sun, it’s definitely somewhere.

Libra risings get away with a lot. They could be clearly terrible at something but still be liked and sometimes even favored. Kind of like the relationship between a caregiver and a younger child/sibling, they mess up, they get a pass. Venus trine ascendent too.

Squares in a chart are “aggressive”. They are what I look at first, when looking at someone’s aspects. They tend to be more likely to manifest in my opinion. Next to conjunctions.

9 degrees mars makes someone vindictive. Or just very much the type of people that don’t take disrespect very well, to put it in other words. These people can loose control of self/emotions.

8h moon mothers can be the most controlling people. Especially money wise. These people, if they don’t have the actual information to access your money, they’ll definitely find ways to make you either spend money on them or give them money. Yes, their own kids. They can exploit their kids basically and unfortunately.

Taurus risings tend to have stallion bodies. Yes sag is the sign of the man/horse figure. But Taurus is the sign of the bull, which tend to be built. And active as well. A lot of Taurus risings I know and come across, has n a t r u a l l y built bodies.

If you’re are looking to owning a business and running it through social media especially or you want to be a social media content creator... Look into planetary hours in your area. And post during the sun or mars hour :) watch your business get a lot of traction. (Will do a separate post on this) :*

Scorpio Venus people seem like they want praise for being private sometimes. They’re the type of people to say constantly words or phrases like “I keep my business to myself” “I live a private life” “I don’t post much on social media” “I’m not into *insert a social gathering*, I’d rather be at home”

Also, Scorpio placements are homebodies. They love to stay home. In their little scorpion shell. With Taurus on their axis .. this makes sense.

Surprisingly, Pisces Venus are quite flirtatious. Yet they seem very shy and reserved. These people love to ‘shoot their shot’. They’re very confident in that area of attraction. If they want it, they go get it, precisely though. Very calculated, never tasteless.

Gemini Venus people are calculated as well when flirting. But in a different way.. These people can make nerdy jokes just to get the person to laugh. These people are good at it too, never corny. Also these people love to laugh.

Naomi Campbell, for example her flirtatious remarks and responses to the interviewer are never aggressive and super straightforward. Instead they’re rather charming and friendly.

Sagittarius MC or Jupiter aspecting Midheaven can make someone excel in their career when they travel. I mean large traveling too, from country to country.

Rihanna has a big hand in her own country, Barbados. And it drew more attention than she already had as a women to go down in history for the huge roles she obtained in Barbados. She has a lot of Jupiter influence in her chart.

Aquarius mercury dress in a lot of colors. They dress more ‘Aquarius’ like than actual Aquarius sun and ascendent placements.

Moon opposing the sun placement in a chart can make that person see divorce or separations between parents. Sun reps the father. Moon reps the mother. Or they themselves could pick and choose which parent they gravitate towards more. These people could feel a disconnect to their father figure.

Capricorn Chiron could feel insecure, if their financial state is not going well. As if their confidence relies on their career and money. These people could isolate until they’re back on track/on top of their money again.

Virgo placements love to support small businesses. They’ll look into small businesses before looking into big companies to invest their money to.

Libra moon people do not know how to cut people off. They couldn’t ghost if they wanted to.They rather wait until the relationship just dies or low key wants the other person to initiate the relationship ending so they can stop pretending.

Cancer moons on the other hand, tuh, they’ll gladly show you or anyone how it’s done, to cut someone off. People get cancer placements (excluding cancer venus, it takes a while actually) misconstrued. These people especially with air placements, are the master/head honcho’s of leaving someone cold and dry with no explanation, when they come to their sense’s that this person isn’t to be trusted.

Along with the infamous, Scorpio placements. These people are super intuitive and does not come out of that shell very often, if they do and you remind them of that reason why they don’t, they’ll leave fast. And early on too, like I said they can tell when a persons intentions aren’t what they seem to be.

Back to the previous observation, Libra placements love acting. They love movies and binge watching series.

Hannah Montana was definitely a Leo moon, Pisces sun, and Sagittarius rising. The whole character change and people believing it, *mutable ascendent things*and her family actually being from the south. The star power she had and being an entertainer, *Leo moon things*, and being a hopeless romantic person all in all… *Pisces sun things* … I would add a libra mars, being able to stay in that act she portrays as Hannah Montana. That takes libra skills and drive to do that for her career.

Aquarius placements love anime. The originality of it. The creativity of it. Yeah, it’s up their alley.

Pisces, libra, gemini placements, along w 7h placements, are the r e a l fashion girls. They set the tone for the trends in the near future. The things they wear now, will not be worn by them anymore but worn by the majority then.

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umepnnn · 4 years ago

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astro observation ii

!! 𝐃��𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 ¡¡ they're only personal observations so take what resonates <3 the entire chart matters! — this one's kinda long XD enjoyyyyy

observations made using tropical placidus house system unless specified! i don't own any images in this post :">

⤷ previous astro notes by me (aka @umepnnn) ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

we all know aquarius people as trend-setters right? but if they're late to a trend they won't join 😭 only until it dies down and they start it again. same goes with prominent uranus.

7H mercury people remember their crushes birthdays better than of their friends'.

remember taurus placements & 2H virgos with a keen sense of smell and taste? i notice that they have a specific scent(s) they like too.

me when asked "what scents do you like?": the smell of books, shampoo, etc.

them with the same question: *inserts that one specific perfume brand and name*

and when we go to sephora they'll be at the perfume section testing and smelling every scent while i'm just🧍‍♀️

aquarius placements have a lot of hot goss on people (doesn't mean they gossip/bad-mouth others, they just know things - like being in the inner circle).

saturn - moon harsh aspects during childhood they might have secluded themselves from their family.

like avoiding family dinners and eating alone at a different time or always staying in their room

pisces kids usually want to have their own independent room.

THEY NEED ALONE TIME

they don't feel comfortable being themselves around others, so sharing a room with someone is a no no

unless they spend the whole day somewhere else and only go back to the shared room at night then maybe

aquarius placements usually have (& buy) a lot of electronic devices.

like 2 phones in different models, 2 ipads, 2 airpods, or a laptop but they'd also buy a bluetooth mouse and/or keyboard

pisces & aquarius placements likes gaming and bingeing movies.

aquarius placements do things for no reason. if you ask them why they did something, expect to get a *genuine* "i don't even know" response.

aquarius placements are good with technology, and could even be talented at coding.

the sign on your 3H cusp can show what your fingers and fingernails look like.

air signs: BEAUTIFUL hands, big and clean cut nails

fire signs: short (usually bitten) fingernails, small tiny nails

earth signs: long nails as they rarely cut it, likes getting their nails done (no need for acrylics because they already have their long ass nails 😭)

water signs: size of nails varies, fingers are curvy/can be bent easily

3H gemini can mimic others' handwritings easily, also art (imitating the hand movements).

pisces, capricorn, scorpio – they are attracted to people with emo dark aesthetics, eboy/egirl kinda type.

random thought but earth signs make up a tree.

capricorn: the seed — planting requires a lot of hard work and effort to grow (cardinal & saturn energy)

taurus: the tree — keeps growing & rooted at the same place, preserves through the weather (fixed energy)

virgo: the leaves — transitions, adapts and changes colors every season (mutable energy)

pisces are the type to sleep right after they come home from work or school.

the cleanest, tidiest, most organized person i know has a 6H stellium of sun, pluto, and mercury.

absolutely NO fingerprints on their laptop screen & their room is always tidy + decorated

if a virgo likes you, expect TONS of gift-giving (food or like practical stuff) and acts of service.

mars conjunct asc often have reddish cheeks.

༄˖ ࣪⭑ 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒 !!

cancer risings' eyes remind me of tim burton's cartoons. big round eyes that's bulging out a bit and possibly could just POP out (inserts joey-tribbiani-shocked-face.jpg).

cancer risings have wide and prominent forehead that really stands out when you look at them (kinda like a crab's shell!), and especially as they age it gets even widerrr.

i kept looking at matt leblanc's (joey tribbiani) and matthew perry's (chandler bing) forehead when i was bingeing on friends and now i finally know why

*i made a mistake when compiling these cancer rising celebrities! matthew perry actually has leo ascendant at 10° although he's still a cancer rising in vedic ehe 👀

makes me wonder if leighton meester (gossip girl's blair waldorf <333) is a cancer rising cuz i kept staring at her forehead xD plus the BIG eyes

cancer risings (sometimes) move like strands of noodles, kinda lanky and squiggly with their arms and legs.

i noticed that many cancer risings like plants and they take very good care of it.

cancer risings just give off super kind and comforting vibes <3

i love cancer risings so much and cancers in general, they're usually the one to randomly check up on you to make sure your feeling okay 🥺

pisces risings have dreamy tired-looking eyes, but when they SMILE it's just 🥺🥰💘💘✨ their eye smiles 😭💘 will 🤛 literally 🤛 make 🤛 you go soft

also when pisces risings smile, they usually have softer round corners of their mouth and their upper teeth are usually a bit forward, widee smiles btw.

pisces risings, especially women, are often asked "are you ok? you look sick" 💀💀

i mean "no we're just not wearing makeup" – from experience

leo risings got that gang leader type of vibe.

leo risings (that i know), LOVES branded clothing and everything designer brands.

and even for unnecessary things like a louis vuitton phone case, a chanel strap for the suitcase handle, a prada glasses then another glasses but in louis vuitton so they can choose which one to wear depending on their mood

i was wondering why my leo rising best friend is SOO LEO RISING, until i noticed that she's also a leo rising in her sidereal chart LMAO (cuz her tropical leo ascendant is at 26° so when it moves back in vedic it's still in leo 💀)

no i did not just roast her with the branded things

that's why leo risings are BIG BIG spenders.

and also why they have BIG generous hearts <333 they're very self-less people, like if you both want something they'd let you have it first.

she (♌︎ asc) and i (♓︎ asc) were also roommates and her room is always bright while mine's always dark.

even the room placements – her room would have more sunlight through her windows than mine (we didn't choose the rooms).

another pisces rising i know also tend to have dim bed lights in their room.

i have a virgo rising friend and at first i'm like ??? cuz she doesn't look like one (mostly appearance – she does have the mercurian nervousness). then i saw she's a leo rising in sidereal and finally 🧩puzzles are solved🧩 she has rectangular head shape and veryy thick bouncy hair.

˴ ✦ THE ASC GUESSING CORNER !!

my guesses on their rising signs are entirely based on how i felt about their vibes and appearance :) little to no analysis. i cannot guarantee accuracy at all lol anyways give it a guess if you want !!

① sulli – pisces rising

looked soft 24/7, probably could be because her pisces stellium too (mercury, mars, saturn in pisces). if she's a pisces rising then the stellium would be in her first house! shows how direct she was, how she wasn't afraid to voice her opinions, and especially how she expressed her personality/color in a creative pisces way. anyhow, very talented and creative, with a smile that makes me go soft everytime :"<

② lee yumi – pisces rising (and maybe aquarius)

our lovely player 240 in squid game, yes she reminds me of sulli, ethereal vibes, soft, gives you a "wanna protecc" her kinda feels, alien-ish as well. i think she could be a tropical pisces rising and a vedic aquarius rising. it's also bc the way she smiled in this ig video – lowkey reminded me of someone i know who smiles like that in videos + have those placements above. but the way she smiled in the photo up there also reminds me of someone else i know lollolo and fun fact she has the same birthday with another friend of mine. omg she reminds me of so many people – now i'm even more convinced (the aquarius rising thing and how they're mistaken for a lot of people – @jojoangelley's observation).

③ lee jungjae – cancer rising

mr. gihun player 456 ! first of all, the forehead staring thing 💀 and the big eyes. tho they are a bit droopy/down-turned they're still BIG. his overall vibe is warm & nurturing. and when he smiled omg it feels so wholesome and heartwarming sosbj could be a little bit influenced by his character in squid game but that's just how i felt when i saw him.

④ leighton meester - cancer rising

veryyy BIGG EYES. and then i stare at her forehead quite a lot (i'm sorry idk what's with me and the staring at people's forehead thing but many of them do turn out to be cancer risings XDDD) her blair waldorf role in gossip girl is a toxic mean character lowk obsessive BUT im soft for her ndksn she's like a cinnamon bun 🥺 instant liking w her since the beginning (which happens to me when i meet cancer risings)

⑤ jung jaewon - cancer rising

hehe i already mentioned him in the previous astro observation but gonna do it again cuz now i'm more certain with my guess 😈 BIG ROUND eyes again and he has this thing where he emphasizes his eyes during interviews – when he listens to the questions his eyes kinda widens a little, generally many eye movements – which actually looks kinda nervous (air sign thingy) AND it made me think of the possibility of having a tropical cancer rising and a vedic gemini rising ;) not sure tho! just maybe. and i also remember reading somewhere that the sun shows appearance more? so at first i thought his wide forehead was because of his aries sun but now that i know cancer risings' foreheads...

tiny fact :: jaewon and sulli were born on the same day, month, and year! only different cities & time.

that's all for this time's observations! i hope you enjoyed it and reblogs are 10000000% appreaciated (о´∀`о) feel free to comment down your thoughts <3

remember :: this are just personal observations, might not be accurate + other aspects or placements from the rest of the chart can affect it differently ^^

➤ visit previous astro notes ›› masterlist for more!

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votederpycausemufins · 4 years ago

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Well, this is the last chapter of the sort of… intro part of this fic. But there is so much more to happen.

im always gonna tag @helleborusangel and then the scattered au was made by @hermitcraftheadcanons

False killed another drowned while Stress continued to fix up their base. A creeper had managed to show up and destroyed a bit of their base, and before they could fix it there was another, and then drowned were coming up from the ocean. While the two of them would have loved to move further away, even head towards spawn, but they had tried that already and it didn’t go well. Stress had gotten killed and was sent back to her spawn in the middle of the coral, leaving False to run back and help her out.

They hadn’t managed to get any beds to set spawn, as right now they weren’t even sure if beds would work since their starting spawns were messed up as well as chat bugging out and regen not working. So, because of all that they were on the island closest to the coral reef and were setting up a base there. With everything going on, they were doing pretty well, having gotten a good starter base set up and were almost at full diamond.

They hadn’t set up a nether portal just yet, prioritizing better armor. Of course, they would head in for the first time with iron armor for scouting so that they wouldn’t lose their hard work to a bad spawn, but if they were going to explore that dimension without regeneration, the more protection they had, the better. The priority after that was getting their way into a fortress and finding supplies for potions. Blaze rods, netherwart and glowstone were going to be a priority, but while it would be nice to have regeneration potions, but the pair had found melon seeds in a shipwreck, so instant health would be a much safer option.

False heard Stress call out to her, and then the fighter killed another drowned before running back into the base, the whole place now patched up and better lit than before. For the most part, it was just the essentials with the only decoration being the style of the build itself, but there was one exception, that being a small tank that held a tropical fish that had been stuck with Stress where she had first spawned.

“Well luv, do you fink we’re prepped enough to head to the nether?” Stress asked, ready to switch her armor up. “I’ve already got a portal set up that we just need to light.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Plus we might be able to find Wels and Keralis since they seem to both be in the nether.”

“Oh, Keralis is in there too?” Stress asked, taking her comm out to look at the messages.

“Well, he got killed by some piglins and also got Hot Tourist Destinations, but never actually used a portal to get to the nether.”

“Alright, well when we get through, we can look for the two of them.”

Keralis was once again very glad he could make stew out of the new nether fungi. While he had found a few red and brown mushrooms, he hadn’t found many and fighting hoglins in a mishmash of armor wasn’t the most appearing idea right now. There was the slight problem of it not being mushroom stew and instead some suspicious stew, and he was getting various effects from it, but some food was better than nothing at all.

The builder was glad he had at the very least spawned in the warped forest, so the most he needed to worry about were endermen and any stray piglins that wandered into the forest from the nearby wastes. And even then he had gold armor so they wouldn’t really bother him unless they saw him opening his own chests which he didn’t think was fair.

Using some bone meal he had obtained from a soul sand valley, Keralis worked on getting another crimson fungus for some more stew. Warped fungi was easy enough to get, seeing as how he was in a warped forest, but crimson was much harder. But hopefully he wouldn’t need to do that much longer.

With his supplies from the forest and nearby basalt delta, Keralis had gotten plenty of gold to trade with piglins. The mobs gave him supplies in return, and they had almost given him enough obsidian for a portal into the overworld. Where he would end up when he got to the other side, Keralis had no clue, but either way it would be better than the nether.

He sighed when the bone meal ran out and there were still no crimson fungi. If he wanted to eat later that… day? Night? Just… later on in general, he would need to either head to the crimson forest, or get more bone meal. And right now, the soul sand valley was closer.

Keralis got geared up and then started the trek to the other biome. He already had a safe path there, so he took his time to walk and not tire himself out and need food he didn’t currently have on hand. That said, he was keeping his eyes out for any trouble on the path as well as looking for any piglin he could barter with. He mistook a ziglin here or there for their unzombified counterparts, but unluckily there didn’t seem to be any normal piglin in sight.

But while his luck for piglin seemed to be low, his luck in general was not, because he was able to spot a portal on a hill in the wastes. And it wasn’t a ruined portal. Even if it had been, Keralis likely would have gone to it to see if there were any supplies he could use. But instead, this was just a lone, lit, hermit made portal.

Keralis booked it to the portal, nearly falling into a gap in the netherrack that led straight down to lava. But he was fine and no mobs were around to attack him. So he stepped into the portal and let the magic whisk him away, coming out on the other side a few moments later.

He was glad to see stone brick on the other side of the portal, something that didn’t really appear in the nether. A set of stairs was nearby and Keralis walked up them, finding a nice looking starter base sans beds, but with a small aquarium with a single fish. He moved over to a window and looked out to see the sun rising and no monsters around. He could also see the ocean and a coral reef under the water. After days in the nether, it was an amazing sight, and Keralis just sat there to take it all in. And also hopefully meet whoever built this place when they returned.

Scar had majorly screwed up and found himself caught in a death loop of sorts. He had accidently lost his footing while pruning some chorus plants and tumbled into the void. When he respawned, he happened to be looking right at an enderman, who promptly killed him. And then killed him again when he respawned. And then yet again. Eventually he wised up enough to keep his eyes closed tight for the next respawn, and he was left alone, but keeping his eyes closed suddenly seemed like a horrible option.

The end was already quiet enough, and other than the feeling of the endstone under his feet, Scar could have mistaken himself for floating in the void. It had been so quiet before with only the sounds of endermen, but now it was louder. Scar snapped his eyes open to look around for the source of the noise, only to get killed again, but then he was careful the second time, looking for what was making that new noise.

It sounded like whispering, but it definitely wasn’t endermen. It also sounded too close to just be something quiet in the distance like the shulkers at the end city. Feeling a little frustrated, Scar shouted, hoping whatever was making the noise would hear him and answer. “Hello?! Is anyone out there?!”

Scar couldn’t help but let a shiver go down his spine as the whispering stopped. That probably wasn’t the best sign, but at the very least whatever was making that sound could hear him. Though understanding might be a different story. “Hey, if you can, I need some help! I’m kind of stranded out here!”

Scar paused, hoping for an answer. At first none came, but just before he completely lost hope, he heard a familiar voice. “We may provide some help. You have done a number of things that we can repay you for. But that amount is still not much, and when we stop, we will stop unless you can give us more.”

Scar knew the voice of the vex. Technically he and Cub had left that behind in season six, but desperate times did call for desperate measures. The vex didn’t tell him how many times they would help him, so he knew he would need to be careful with using that help. That being said, he knew there was one thing that would definitely help. “Are you able to get me back to the overworld? Preferably somewhere safe?”

There was more whispering as the vex discussed between themselves, but after a few moments, they responded. “Unfortunately, we are unable to do that. A higher power is the reason you are here in the first place. However, there are strings we may pull to give you access to an escape.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Scar replied. While it wasn’t an immediate exit, having one on the way was still a good thing to have. “Um, well, do you know who the closest hermit to me is? Other than TFC that is, since I know he’s in the end with me.”

Scar was pretty sure that would be a good question. The closest player would likely be whoever was almost to the end themselves, or maybe they were in the stronghold. Once he knew that, he would hopefully have another request that the vex would allow and they could send a message to them for him. But instead, the vex gave him a much more unfavorable answer. “Look up.”

Scar was confused, but then carefully looked up, avoiding the gaze of any endermen. He scanned the horizon for something, anything that might show signs of a hermit, but there was nothing. His next guess was that maybe a hermit had already claimed an elytra and was flying around, so he looked further into what passed as a sky in the end. And then he saw the bright color that was Bdubs.

At first Scar wanted to smile as seeing his friend, but then he realized the man wasn’t wearing any sort of elytra and was falling fast. Without much more thought, Scar backed up and watched Bdubs get closer before he finally ran to the edge of his small island and jumped. Scar yelled Bdubs’ name as he reached for the hermit, the other man not reacting until Scar managed to grab his arm. Bdubs’ eyes shot open and he looked around in surprise before his eyes finally rested on Scar. “Scar! How did you get down here?”

“You were falling past the island I’ve been stuck on. Look!” And Scar pointed to the island which was rapidly disappearing above them.

“I thought I was just ages into the void. I lost my comm forever ago so I had no clue how far down I was. No wonder I haven’t died.”

“Yeah, well sorry that I can’t really get us out of this. But maybe you can shift yourself a bit to the side so maybe I can catch you when you respawn again.”

Bdubs chuckled, glad for some sort of hope. “Yeah. See you in a couple days.”

The two held onto each other as they continued to fall, but Bdubs watched in horror as Scar was the only one of them to take damage from the void. A few moments later, he disappeared into smoke which Bdubs tried to grab on to in vain, but a moment later, it was all gone, and he was back to falling alone.

TFC hid behind an obsidian pillar to catch his breath as the purple magic of the dragon’s breath was blocked by it. He was running low on health again, so he needed to be careful about getting near the dragon so she could fling him up at the right time. Without blocks, bows and arrows, ladders, or anything really, TFC just had to hope that he could reach the crystals and punch them just before dying. He had already managed to take out two, but there were still plenty to go, especially the caged ones.

There was a roar and TFC cursed as the dragon phased through the pillar and he found himself falling a moment later. He wasn’t close enough to any of the pillars with crystals to try and take them out. That was, unless he somehow managed to catch himself on the iron bars around the nearest crystal and not kill himself. But that was unlikely. He was already old and prosthetics weren’t the best for stuff like this.

So, it ended up that TFC found himself hitting the ground and respawning on the obsidian platform again. He slowly got himself to sit on the platform without managing to throw his back out and used it as some time to rest. He knew the dragon would probably find her way over to him eventually, but right now he was done with fighting.

He pulled out his communicator to check on how everyone else was doing, frowning upon seeing Scar’s many end related deaths. TFC wondered if it would have been better if Scar were the one stuck on the island instead. He could probably deal with the dragon better than him. Probably anyone could. Maybe once upon a time defeating the dragon alone was a feat he could manage, but his old bones weren’t built for that anymore.

He knew it was probably in vain, but TFC tried to send another distress message into the chat. He didn’t really have many other options for what to do, and for all he knew, it could eventually fix itself and everyone would just assume it was still broken if he didn’t check. But, with a sigh, he just got another error message. Maybe another time, that’s all TFC could hope for.

Etho continued to shiver in the covers of the bed he had been put in. When he respawned on top of a mountain, he was surprised to see Grian and the bots up there. Even though there weren’t any trees or animals or life whatsoever other than the other people themselves, they had somehow managed to get a bed and some food. And looking at his communicator, they had managed to somehow all keep from dying from the cold, only having a few instances of falling or even one of starvation.

Etho looked over to Grian, who was currently sitting in the snow and shivering even more than he was. The avian had their wings wrapped around himself and was rubbing his arms to keep warm. Etho had tried more than once to get out of the bed so that Grian could use it, but the bots had both insisted he use it instead.

At first, he had complained, saying he would be fine and he didn’t want Grian to deal with the cold like this. But then he watched as Grian suddenly summoned purple flames in his hands, the fire’s warmth reaching the bed at least a little. The color seemed to reflect in Grian’s eyes perfectly, his irises matching the amethyst color at the moment. At least, that was Etho’s first thought, but then he remembered Ren and Impulse’s eyes being different colors, and suddenly he wasn’t so sure.

“S-So, how did you g-guys get this st-stuff?” Etho chattered out, making the two bots tuck him into the cover more.

“Dad made them.” Jrum answered. “When he respawns, he’s able to use magic to make us stuff like food or this bed.”

Etho nodded, but then looked up again. “Wh-why hasn’t he tried making something to get you guys down?”

The bots didn’t immediately answer, instead looking at each other nervously. “Well, something’s been up with Dad. When we got here his wings got weird looking and then there was that thing.” And Jrum pointed to the small ice and bedrock structure Etho had spawned next to. “And then he started attacking us so we had to push him off the mountain and when he respawned he wanted us to abandon him here and then you showed up!”

“S-so in other w-words, s-something’s wrong w-with him, b-but y-you don’t kn-know what.” And the bots nodded. “W-Well, th-that sums up a l-lot of th-things going on. L-Like e-every time I r-respawn, I sh-show up n-near someone e-else.”

“Really?”

“Or s-something l-like that. I s-started out at s-spawn with Joe a-and Beef.” Etho paused to rub his arms for a bit more warmth. “When I res-spawned, I w-was in a r-ravine with Ren. H-He s-suddenly attacked m-me like your d-dad did so then I w-was in the e-end.”

“Did you find Scar or TFC?” Grum asked, surprised when Etho shook his head.

“Neither. B-Bdubs is s-stuck in the v-void and isn’t d-dying. I d-didn’t see him but I f-found his c-communicator. I d-died before I c-could find out m-more. After that was th-the desert.”

“So Iskall or XB, right? They’ve both died of dehydration so that means they have to be somewhere hot.”

“Y-yeah, probably. But I d-didn’t see anyone. J-just a l-lack of dead b-bushes.” Etho explained. “A-anyway, s-sort of at that point I r-realized I w-was a-appearing n-near other p-people, s-so I made s-something to j-jump off of t-to send me e-elsewhere.”

“Okay, where did you go next?” Jrum asked before getting an idea. “Oh! And are you able to look at coordinates when you show up there, because then you might help people who are safe figure out where those who aren’t are!”

“Y-yeah. I’ve g-got access to those. J-just haven’t taken advantage of th-that too much. I s-spawned with Imp-pulse next a-and used a-all the time I h-had to tr-try and break a block w-with him.”

“Well, he’s still dying a lot, so if you did, it doesn’t look like it helped much.” Jrum said, Grum elbowing him. “Ow! Hey! It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but you shouldn’t say things like that. Etho is doing the best he can in a situation like this.”

“I-It’s fine. I g-get it. After th-that, I sh-showed up h-here.”

“And you have surprisingly lasted the longest up here based on the death messages.” Grum agreed. “Well, actually, it was longer when you were with Ren, but it’s getting close. You slept for a while when we first got you into the bed.”

Etho nodded. “H-How long h-has i-it been?”

The bots both looked up at the sky to look at the sun before looking back to Etho. “It’s been at least a day. We weren’t really paying attention to when you showed up. Uh… it’s sort of like… the middle of the fifth day we’ve all been stuck in this season.”

Before Etho could respond, there was a chirp and Grian started using fire to warm himself up again. Etho stared at the avian and then Grum and Jrum carefully moved Grian closer to the bed so the warmth of the fire would reach him, but not too much in case they upset Grian. “When we first got you into bed and you fell asleep, Dad got upset and attempted to attack you, so we’ve been trying to keep that from happening again.”

“Th-thanks.”

Since Etho wasn’t stuck in the snow, the cold wasn’t enough to kill him, so the bots did their best to keep him warm and fed. At the same time, they talked things out with Etho about what they could do since Etho could find people and Grian seemed to be able to get them necessary items.

Eventually, night fell and Grian forcefully got closer to curl up with the bots, each of them finding themselves pinned under one of their dad’s wings. They were worried about Etho at first, especially when Grian moved closer to the bed, but the only thing then needed to worry about was Etho’s bones accidently being crushed when Grian plopped himself onto the bed and tried to squeeze all four of them on the mattress made for one person.

Surprisingly, they all managed to get to sleep in that position, but it didn’t help advance the day forward like the first time Grian used the bed. Despite being metal, the combined body heat of Grian and Etho kept all of them warm, as well as from them just being out of the snow. Since the bots technically didn’t need to sleep, they mostly stayed awake to keep an eye on things, though taking it in shifts so they didn’t overdo it. But the night was calm, and it looked like everything was going to be fine.

And then just as the sun was coming up over the horizon, things changed. Grian got up suddenly, winding Etho and causing the bots to fall to the ground. His wings were puffed up in agitation and flames came from his hands, though his hands were over his ears, making it look like his head was on fire.

Jrum was the first to get up and go over to Grian, but the avian’s wings just swiped at the bot and kept them away. Grum tried next but just got the same result, though he was hit away at a different angle, nearly sending him off the edge of the mountain. Etho, despite having nothing except a bit of food, got up from the bed to get close to Grian, managing to dodge his wings.

By the time Etho reached Grian, he had started hyperventilating. The ninja put his hand on Grian’s shoulder and he whipped around, bright amethyst eyes staring unfocused at Etho. “C-can you t-tell m-me what’s up? What’s going on?” Grian didn’t respond verbally, but his eyes flicked over to the pillar next to them on the mountain. “That’s c-causing it? L-Let’s s-see what w-we can do a-about it.”

Etho walked over to the pillar and looked it over before trying to break the ice since he obviously could break bedrock. He was a little weak from the cold, but Etho was sure he could do this. He had done it for Impulse, and that was underwater. The thing was, he couldn’t get far before he found himself face down in the snow, a hand on the back of his head keeping it down so he couldn’t look up. With a bit of struggling, however, Etho was able to twist his head to the side and his good eye looked up at Grian.

With his voice muffled by the current situation, Etho tried to say something to Grian, not sure if he would hear or even respond. “Grian, what are you doing?”

For a moment, Grian didn’t answer, then he cocked his head to the side confused as well as gave a smile. “Oh, do you mean-?” He cut himself off by laughing. “What I'm doing is making sure you keep going. You won’t fix anything like this.” Etho tried to question what Grian meant, but there was suddenly more pressure pushing him down and preventing him from talking. “Go on now. Freeze to death. You’re only really getting that here.”

Etho was vaguely aware of the bots trying to get him to the bed and pull Grian away, but they didn’t seem to be strong enough for that. There was the clank of metal hitting together, then on stone further down. “Welcome to day five. I’ll speed us through so we can get to the good stuff.” And then Etho froze to death.

As the sun was rising, Joe got up with a start. Something didn’t feel right. He jumped out of bed and went looking for Beef, finding him still taking a nap in his own bed. Joe shook the other hermit awake, not wanting to be alone if his new bad feeling was dangerous at all. Beef complained a little at first, but when Joe explained further, he dragged himself out of bed and geared up.

Swords were drawn as they left the building, looking everywhere they could for danger and making sure to watch each other’s backs. Any mobs from the night were dying from the sun aside from some creepers which they took care of with a couple arrows. But other than all that, there was nothing that really stood out.

Giving up, they started back to their beds, taking a different path back, and then suddenly Joe realized what was the problem, and why he felt off the night before. “Beef, I think that’s our problem right there.”

Beef looked over to Joe, then to where Joe was pointing. Right where the main building of spawn was, or at least, where it had been. Standing in its place, towering above the other buildings, was a tower of various blocks like obsidian, bedrock, endstone, blackstone, and more. The pair moved to get a better look at the new building, finding an entrance at its base which was a few blocks above the surrounding terrain, though it had also appeared with a hill.

“Well, I think we should stop working on makin’ more shelter.” Joe spoke up after they had just stared at the tower for a few minutes. “We can make signs to tell people what’s up, but we need to gear up and find X and Grian.”

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #scattered au #falsesymmetry #stressmonster101 #keralis #Goodtimeswithscar #bdoubleo100 #tinfoilchef #ethoslab #jrumbot #grumbot #grian #watcher!grian #avian!grian #joe hills #Vintage beef #the watchers #the watchers (evo)

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isayevou · 3 years ago

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About Me

My another name is Isa, but you can also call me El (both of them aren't my real name). Whatever that makes you comfortable to call me.

English isn't my first language. Sorry if I makes mistakes because of that.

But I'm a multilingual tho :) (such an INFP stereotypes, but for my case, it's true)

Yes, strongly INFP hardcore

My sidereal charts, moon in pisces, aries rising, sun in aries

My tropical charts, moon in aries, aries rising, sun in taurus

But Idk, I believe more in my sidereal charts than my tropical charts

ASL? Since today is my birthday, I'm 20 now (Jungwon's, Sunoo's, and Niki's noona) ; female ; my country GMT is UTC+07:00

Height? 158 cm (the average height of girls in my country are below my height tho)

Weight? Idk, last time I check which is 2 years ago, 53 kg. (expose? Sure, if I reach my first 10k followers 😎)

As you know that I'm writing for TXT & EN- only, that doesn't mean I only read their fics. You can recommend me your complete work about another group (if you want) for me to read.

Yes I love your follow and like, but I like it more if you reblog or comment my content 🙂 it really boost my motivation to become better.

Other than TXT and EN- I also like to read NCT fics and Skz fics. I don't really know another kpop group because I actually to immerse in my real life 😿 and I become a MOA since their first debut, when I'm still in my high school. But I'm kind of an ambitious student to get my scholarship for my future university, so that's why I don't really know about kpop things and more into listening their music and story only.

Then I get to know EN- after their debut song and Drunk Dazed. (TMI)

My first love in TXT is Beomgyu and Soobin. Then I become OT5

My first love in EN- is Jay. And just like TXT, I also become OT7 for EN- as well.

I don't write NSFW content, because first, I want my tumblr blog to become a safe space for minors. Second, I don't comfortable writing NSFW content.

But I do write a suggestive content.

Other than that I also don't write triggering content that glorify self harm, abuse, pedophilia (please noted that age gap and pedophilia are different), anything that could trigger someone. I'm not not tolerating those kind of things. But if write that, I will write the warning sign on my contents and usually I gave you the moral value of that.

You can request or ask me anything, but I will only reply that on Sunday. (see my schedule here)

I only post my content 1-2 posts in a day between 18.00 until 20.00 or 6 p.m until 8 p.m using tumblr schedule ofc :)

If you read my intro, you know that I'm an accounting major and my intention to create this tumblr blog :) but I'm also busy with some clubs in my university. Since I'm also a vice president of a club and a part of another clubs as well. Now you know why I'm also a 'busy' something. I'm sorry if I make you wait too long 😿

By guys 😽

- Isa

Also check this for better understanding :

Main Hall || Masterlist || Schedule

That's it, Ig (?) will update this in the future.

#txt writing #enhypen writings #tomorrow x together #enhypen #kpop fanfic #txt soobin #txt yeonjun #txt beomgyu #txt taehyun #txt hueningkai #enhypen jungwon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen niki #txt x reader #enhypen x reader

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lailannajacobs · 4 years ago

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A Deal With Kings. What Else Is New? | GIBP I

Pairing: fey!Loki x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: You get to Asgard and try and steal the Hand of Damnation.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Here’s the first chapter! Hope you enjoy it, would love to know what you think! <3

The gates to Asgard were out of place and definitely useless. Not far from the docks, they were set within a large stone arch, wide enough to let through four carts at once, its gates wide open. Though really, it wouldn’t have mattered if they were opened or closed. The arch was the tallest structure — other than the golden palace in the distance — in the town, but it wasn’t connected to anything else. Compared to Niflheim’s borders which were protected by a massive ice wall and protected by sentinels day and night, these gates looked like they had been erected long ago, more out of custom than necessity. Worn out and paled from the sun and the tropical storms that came through this part of continent, it was a miracle the thing was still standing.

There wasn’t a guard in sight either, but you weren’t going to let yourself be fooled so easily. What little you did know about Asgard was enough to make you pause in front of the rusted iron gates. The realm was ruled by the Court of Magic. These were Fey who could harness the energy flowing through the 9 Realms and bend it to their will. It was rumoured that they had no limit to their abilities — abilities I couldn’t even begin to understand — replicating the unique magic that defined each realm. And you were about to steal from these people.

Even though you didn’t believe for a moment that the city’s limits were left unprotected, you didn’t know what to expect either. There was always the dreaded possibility that if you used your own abilities that they’d instantly know what you were. You knew enough about magic to know that anyone using their abilities let out a burst of energy that was unique to the race. In Niflheim, it didn’t matter, but here…it wasn’t worth the risk. So, you vowed that within these borders, for yours and Nat’s safety, you were human. Nothing more.

Slumping your shoulders and staring down at your feet, you walked in as the forgettable human you needed to be, officially stepping into Asgard. You shivered, half expecting to get caught, but nothing happened. The modest looking market area was bustling with life and you jumped to the side to avoid getting trampled. Vendors shouted from crammed booths at citizens roaming the streets, trying to catch the eyes of customers who might actually stop. Their eyes glanced quickly over you, not wanting to bother with someone who looked so disinterested and poor. The crowd, and even the vendors, were a mix of people from the different realms, the Fey and equal part of the mix, mingling as if this was all something they did every day. Thankfully, even as a human, you’d be able to blend into the bustle.

You wandered through the market, quickly realizing you had no idea where you were going or what you were looking for. Hoping the Hand was in their port city was only a gamble. Odin had only told it it was in Asgard and not where it was in the realm. You were here, but really, you had no idea if it was here too. If the damed book really did exist, finding it would be nearly impossible. You were a thief at best when you could use your abilities — not that Odin knew that’s what you did — finding things had never been a part of the deal.

You needed to ask around, but you weren’t sure where to start so you wandered aimlessly, the weight of the pendant urging you on. It was only when you’d wandered so far into the market that you could barely smell the salt and fish that you felt it. Someone was watching you. You turned slowly, pretending to look at a necklace in the nearby booth, but whatever you’d felt was gone — or in hiding. You grit your teeth and moved on, resisting the urge to use your abilities to lose the tail.

Weaving through the crowd, you tried your best to lose the whatever tail might be following — that was, if someone actually was following you — while looking for anything that might lead you to a dark magic spell book that hadn’t been seen in centuries. Because of course you knew exactly what that was supposed to look like.

You were finally beginning to think you were paranoid when a nasally voice interrupted your thoughts.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

There was no doubt in your mind that he was talking to you even if you didn’t know anyone here. When you turned around, you were met with a small man who looked altogether too forgettable. He was short and thin and covered in dirt, with wiry unkempt hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks. His loose shirt and pants were rags that looked far more worn out than yours, riddled with so many hole they barely covered any skin. His only memorable feature were his eyes; bright green, practically glowing as if they belonged to someone far more extraordinary. He was so frail, you could have easily pushed past him, but you had a feeling that this was the man you’d felt following you. You wanted to know why.

You smiled politely, not wanting to pick a fight before you knew you had to, “are you sure? I come to the market every Thursday for peaches.”

“I’m sure I would have noticed you,” he grinned, revealing a mouth missing half his teeth, “this isn’t a large city, my dear.”

He was right about that. For all the mystery that surrounded Asgard since they closed their borders, there wasn’t much to the bland city with low rising buildings spread before a small palace. You wanted to believe there was more to the city than met the eye, but it just looked so…average.

He leaned up against the stall, knees buckling, “what are you looking for, dearie?”

“Who says I’m looking for anything?” you demanded too quickly.

“Well,” he hummed, “you are at a market.”

You forced a laugh, “oh, of course. I’m here to pick up silverware. I hear there’s a woman here who’s an incredible blacksmith.”

“I thought you came here for the peaches,” he picked up the fruit in his hand, green eyes gleaming.

He’s set up a trap and I’d fallen right in it. You swallowed, trying to think of something to say, but you’d never been the best liar. Your abilities meant you could go unnoticed most of the time and you’d never had much practice talking your way out of a bad situation — at least not in the last two hundred years. You were beginning to think you should have practiced a little more.

“Who says I didn’t come for both?” you finally countered.

He shrugged, “it’s possible, but I do think you’re here for something more.”

You struggled to keep breathing, afraid your heart had stopped working. Terrified to give anything away, you decided it was safer to ask the questions rather than answer them, “what do you think I’m here for?”

“If I told you what I thought it was, it would ruin all the fun,” he pushed off the stand with a wide grin.

“I don’t think we’re having fun,” you grit out.

“Shame,” he sighed, “I’ll leave you to your peaches and silverware then. Goodbye, YN.”

You froze but recovered fast enough to grab his arm, “how in the seven hells dow you know my name?”

The man stepped closer, peering up at you with satisfaction in his eyes. You were met with the stench of sewers and rotten meat but you were far too worried to take a step back. You didn’t know if you’d been caught — if you needed to run. At least he hadn’t used your real name. That much was a saving grace.”

“It’s in the tallest tower of the palace,” he leaned in further and you cringed, his sour breath heavy on your face, “it’s somewhere in the desk. Good luck.”

He backed off faster than you thought he could move, weaving behind the passing crowd and disappearing out of sight. Your eyes zeroed in on the tallest tower, though you kept glancing around the market to see if the strange man would return. The tower was half the height of the smallest towers in Niflheim and there was only one window toward the top, so there was no way you could miss it. It didn’t look like much, but maybe that was the point. That was if the stranger was actually talking about the Hand of Damnation. You couldn’t be sure, but your gut told you that he was telling the truth. You were also sure it was a trap. But trap or not, you needed that book. You were just going to have to be smart about how you evaded that trap.

The brick was slippery beneath your feet, pouring rain and violent winds having come in from the sea without warning. Every step took more consideration an effort than the last, the soft pads of your boots useless and soaked through. Rain was a bad omen. It was a clear sign that you shouldn’t be here — that you shouldn’t have used your abilities, even if it had been necessary and for the briefest moment — tonight was the night. The Hand was apparently waiting for you inside the palace and that knowledge was worth the risk of superstitious fears.

Pulling yourself up and over the ledge of the turret, you crouched, watching the opposite window for any sign of life. The palace was lit up just enough for your human eyes to make out the massive desk within the office, but not much else. It wasn’t where you imagined you’d find the Hand, but really, it wasn’t like there was a designated place to hide powerful artefacts — no matter how much easier it would have made your job.

Your flimsy coat was drenched through by the time you were satisfied that the coast was clear and with a running leap, you clear the distance between this tower and the next, landing on the roof with a roll. You slid across the stone, head whipping up to make sure none of the guards had heard a thing. The rest of the city had seemed void of any protection, but as soon as you had gotten close to the palace you’d started seeing the soldiers roaming the grounds. You listened. The coast was clear. Tugging your hood back over your head, you crept over the ledge and down the wall, landing on the edge without a sound. You began to jimmy the lock, fingers slick and cold, fumbling with the mechanics. All of this was taking longer than you’d planned. You breathed in slowly, trying to steady your rising heart rate. When you didn’t think you could hang on any longer, the lock gave way, and you tumbled in.

You hit the floor with a resounding thud, the wood floors hard beneath the thin carpet. Your head snapped up, searching the darkness for any clue that someone might have heard. You hadn’t seen a soul in the room but that didn’t mean there weren’t people nearby. You listened but the only sound, other than your breathing, was the drone of a clock; a steady reminder that you were running out of time.

Pushing up from the floor, you squinted in the darkness, too afraid to light a candle just yet. Every step you took was silent but tentative. The pendant was heavy on your chest. You weren’t going to get another shot at this. There were no do-overs.

You let out a small sigh when your hands slid across the smooth wood paneling of the desk. You’d made it. You were here. Your relief didn’t last long. There was no forgetting that you still had to find it and make it back out alive.

After lighting a small candle from your satchel, you sifted through the desk drawers, looking for a small hidden compartment. You didn’t know what the book looked like, but you’d seen enough magical relics to know that they gave off some sort of aura that called to your magic. You’d know it when you got close enough. Or, at least, you hoped you would.

You forced yourself to close the last drawer slowly even though all you wanted to do was slam it shut. Drumming your fingers on the desk, fear crept in, settling deep in your stomach. Maybe you’d missed it. Maybe your information was wrong. Your gut had told you that the man was telling the truth, but the book was nowhere to be seen. You had no idea what to do next. You could search the rest of the palace, but the chances of finding it without getting caught were next to impossible. Going back empty handed wasn’t an option either. Maybe there was something else int he desk you could use to find the Hand.

“If you’re wondering what to do next,” a silky voice purred in the dark, “I can tell that the decision is no longer up to you.

There was no telling who the voice belonged to, but you knew two thing: he was at the opposite end of the room and he was very dangerous.

“You could run,” he continued, “but I can tell you for a fact that you won’t get out the window,”

You didn’t listen to the very obvious threat. Instead, you bolted to the window, knowing you could only get the Hand if you were alive. The only thing you could ear was the sound of your heart pounding in time with your steps. Your fingernails dug into the wood of the windowsill, scraping up and bending backward when it didn’t move an inch. Desperate, you tried again even though you knew it wouldn’t change anything. The windows were now sealed shut and the only explanation was magic. There was nothing you could do against magic.

You whirled around, searching the dark for any kind of weapon.

He let out a bored sigh, this time the sound coming from the other side of the room, “your only other route of escape is through the door, but you’re not sure where it is and again, I can assure you that I’ll reach it first. Your only other option is—”

“If you say death,” you interrupted with a snarl, your anger taking over fear, “I will kill you first.”

He chuckled, “I’m going to assume you’re lying and not incredibly delusional.”

“Want to find out?” you goaded, hoping he would approach so that you could finally figure out where he was in this damned room.

“Quite honestly, I am curious.”

The lamps snapped on, blinding you while your human eyes slowly readjusted. When your vision cleared, the only thing you could focus on was the fey man, lounging in a dark green arm chair as if it were his throne. He was handsome, a fact that annoyingly didn’t escape your notice, with sharp cheekbones and pointed ears sticking out from silky black hair. His emerald eyes, accentuated by the colour of the chair, were so bright they practically glowed as if they were lit up by a thousand lanterns. They narrowed slightly, his head dipping to take in every inch of what he saw, scanning from bottom to top, lingering wherever he pleased.

“If you don’t mind,” you declared, finally focusing your attention on the door — your one shot of getting out alive — behind him, “I’ll be going.”

The corner of his mouth curled into a wicked grin, “unfortunately, I do mind. See, you broke into my palace and I don’t know where you’re from, but that sort of thing is frowned upon around here.”

You clenched your jaw, focusing on your anger rather than the feeling of dread that was rising in your chest, “this is your palace?”

“Interesting that you don’t seem to know that,” he cocked his head a little more, “and I believe you’re telling the truth.”

“I’m not from here,” you muttered, taking a slow step toward the desk.

“So I’ve gathered and yet, you had the audacity to try and steal from me,” his eyes zeroed in your hand that was slowly reaching for the dagger at your thigh and you froze, “that’s terribly rude of you.”

You forced a smile, “my apologies. Next time I’ll know.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

Even if his words hadn’t been horribly ominous, his tone made you to whip out your dagger and point it at him, “let me go.”

He ignored the weapon, “where are you from, human?”

“Midgard,” you lied, choosing the most obvious of the nine realms.

“That’s awfully far,” he mused.

“Everything’s far when you’re the only island off the coast of the mainland,” you pointed out, hating the fact that it was true.

He shrugged, “I like my privacy. What more can I say?”

You wanted to throw your dagger at him. These people didn’t just like their privacy. They were cowards who’d basically sat out the last war and had closed their borders once it was over. They let their neighbouring realm burn to the ground, and this man had most likely been alive during the war. Seven hells, he might have even been king during that time. The thought alone almost ripped away what little control you had over your anger and abilities.

“Can’t fault you for that,” your attempted nonchalance was undercut by the fact that you’d spoken through gritted teeth, “but I think we’re done here.”

You weren't sure what your plan was as you walked to the door, but you were ready to fight anyone that got in your way, regardless of the fact that they all had powerful magic and you couldn’t use yours.

“I know you’re here for the book,” he was dead serious now, “it’s the only reason I get visitors from other realms. Everyone always tries to steal it.”

You paused, your hand on the doorframe. You couldn’t leave. Sure, you wanted to, but he’d just dangled the one bait you were too impulsive not to take.

“And how many of those people returned to their realms alive?” you asked.

There was no hesitation when he said, “none.”

You tried to ignore the nauseating sensation in your stomach and hoped you came across as flippant rather than nervous when you said, “what’s a rule without an exception?”

“Quite right,” he hummed, “quite right. Why do you want the Hand, human?”

“None of your business,” you growled, refusing to get Nat involved, “if you’re going to kill me, do it now.”

His brows furrowed, “but you haven’t heard my proposition yet.”

You eyed him warily, “Do I even want to know?”

“I believe so, but if you don’t want to listen willingly then…”

Pain burst in your stomach, folding you in half as all the air was sucked from your lungs. You choked like a fish out of water until he released whatever magic hold he had on you and you crumpled to the ground, dagger clattering to the ground.

“I’m listening,” you managed to grit out from the floor.

He smirked, “good. I’m in a bit of a predicament. I’ve been ruling Asgard for some time now, but someone’s trying to steal my crown. They might very well succeed if I don’t do something about it.”

“Why don’t you just kill them?” you groaned as you pushed up to a stand, the pain gone almost as quickly as it had come, “and not get me involved?”

He looked thoroughly unimpressed, “because that’s a crude and overdramatic method of solving problems that isn’t half as efficient as what I’ve come up with. And I don’t want to kill my sister,” he added as an afterthought as if his sister trying to steal the crown from him wasn’t a big deal.

You managed to stifle a sigh this time, “what do you want from me?”

“She’s reminded the council of an old practice that I thought disappeared the day she had. A law that incidentally, prevents me from being king,” he rolled his eyes, “according to the Old Laws, and I quote, ‘No man shall be king without proof that he is capable of love and capable of being loved. Without this ability, no man is fit to be a just and wise king’. I’m sure you’ve now gathered that I don’t have a queen.”

“I can’t see why,” you answered dryly.

He huffed a little laugh, “that’s where you come in, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, “wait. You want me to marry you?”

“Not quite. That is a human tradition after all. I need you to pretend to be in love with me until our coronation at the beginning of the orange moon. Then, when I rightfully take back the crown, you’re free to fake your death and go along with your life.”

“And if I refuse?” You asked.

There was no way I would agree to this, especially that I only had another five moons to get the Hand. Despite his little show of magic, I was going to take my chances escaping rather than getting involved in his whole family drama. A dungeon sounded more appealing than that.

“You may not want to,” his voice was casual, but there was no mistaking the threat.

“So what? My options are death or pretend to love you? Are you really so unloveable that you need to resort to blackmailing a complete stranger?” You growled.

His eyes darkened, “I do what I have to for power. Consider yourself lucky. There are worse things than agreeing to this, and if you don’t, you’ll never see the Hand of Damnation in your life.”

“Are you really so cruel?” You demanded, hoping to appeal to his sympathy because, with the Hand on the line, he had you. He was handing it to you on a silver platter and all you had to do was feign love for a few moons — even if it was to an arrogant coward like him.

“I need an answer,” he sighed, “it’s the middle of the night and my bed is calling me back.”

You had no choice and the two of you knew it. It seemed like you were destined to make deals with kings in order to survive and you hated it.

“Fine,” you snapped, “but as soon as you’re officially king, I get the Hand and I’m out of here.”

His lips pulled into a satisfied grin, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He stood with speed and grace no human could ever match and strode easily across the room until he stood before you. You extended your hand. He engulfed it with his, shook once and then pulled you in close so that he could whisper into your ear, “if this doesn’t work, you don’t get the book. Enjoy being queen, sweetheart.”

You shoved him away, crossed your arms and glared at him, “what now?”

“Now, I show you to your room.”

You didn’t want to follow him. What you wanted, more than anything — even more than to give this obnoxious king a taste of his own medicine — was to escape through the window, grab Nat and vanish to some uncharted realm. But if you could have done it before now, you would have. You knew that if you wanted the Hand and your revenge, you were going to have to play their stupid games. Or, you realized, play them just long enough to find the Hand first.

He led you through the dark corridors, the small candles on the the walls lighting up and extinguishing as you walked past. The act was enough to amaze you and you tried not to look around in awe, especially that he didn’t seem to be breaking a sweat doing it.

On the boat ride here, you’d tried to learn more about Asgard and the magic the Fey harnessed, but after the war, very few people who had been alive when their borders were open had wanted to say anything. The rumours about Asgard ranged from oasis to one of the seven hells. You were praying for your sister’s sake that you didn’t have to pretend to be in love with the king of the seven hells.

You didn’t cross anyone else on the way, though you had the impression that, although it was the middle of the night, he was taking the smaller corridors to avoid any chance encounter. You expected him to say something, anything to fill the silence that shrouded you like a cloud, but he strolled through the halls without looking back once to see if you were following. If he was worried you’d try and take off or stab him in the back, he didn’t show it. And honestly, you doubted he was. You weren’t deluded enough to think you could escape him any more now than you could in the office.

He stopped in front of a plain wooden door.

“I’ll give you the choice,” he began, leaning up against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.

“How kind,” you interrupted with an eye roll, “nice to know that it won’t only be blackmail from now on.”

He let out a little huff as if he thought this whole thing was funny, “if it were blackmail, you wouldn’t be getting anything in return.

“Semantics,” you grumbled.

“Rather important ones,” he countered, “but aren’t you at all curious to know what your choices are?”

You waved a hand, motioning for him to go ahead and offer your two wonderful choices.

He patted the door like an old friend, “the room here is yours. It has everything you need, except a lock on the door. It also connects to my room, which is the next door over.”

You weren’t keen on the idea of sleeping in the adjoining room even if you were supposed to convince a council of people that you were in love with this man — especially when there was no guarantee he wouldn’t barge in whenever he wanted.

You pursed your lips, “what’s the other option?”

His lips spread into a wolfish grin, “you’re always invited to stay with me.”

You wrenched the door open and stomped inside. The room looked empty despite the massive bed, multiple dressers and standing mirror in the corner. You were pretty sure there were houses smaller than this. Doors on either sides of the room probably led, one to his room, and the other to a bathroom. The decorations were simple, dark red and cream walls lined with silver mouldings, set against dark chestnut floors. It was a beautiful room, but the sight made you nauseous. You stared out the far window — that curiously hadn’t been fitted with bars across it — as if you could see all the way to Nat in Niflheim. You would get each other out of this. You would get your revenge. If this extravagant room and faking love was the way out, then you had to be thankful that it wasn’t anything worse. Although you couldn’t say that some part of you didn’t wish there was someone you could fight for the book instead.

“I’ll come find you first thing in the morning,” he said, peeking his head around the doorframe, “just to make sure you haven’t run off in the middle of the night.”

You crossed your arms, water dripping into your pants, “it’s already past the middle of the night.”

“Then I would suggest you get to it if you plan on leaving,” with another infuriating smirk, he shut the door.

You listened until you heard the neighbouring door open and shut. There was little movement and the silence stretched on long enough that you deemed it safe to go examine the window. It was a stained-glass thing that would probably look nice in the morning, and the bottom three panes had small latches above them. You twisted one slowly, holding your breath until the window popped open, a cool breeze wafting in. Your inhale, although shaky, was the first real one you’d taken since you’d broken into the palace and you let out a long sigh. The air was crisp and smelled like dew and something else tat tugged on a far away memory you couldn’t quite place.

The window looked out into what seemed to be a closed courtyard, but you knew there had to be a way out. The ground was close enough that if you did it right, you’d survive the fall without injury. You could leave. If you wanted to, you could leave through the window and find a way out of this palace in the dead of night. But you didn’t have the hand and realistically, you had no idea what kind of magic warding the palace. After all, he’d known you’d broken into his palace when you could have sworn you hadn’t trigged any kind of alarm, even if you had used your abilities for no more than a heart-wrenching second.

There was so much you didn’t know about here, about him, about why Odin wanted the Hand in the first place. You had so many questions you could practically feel the weight of them like a heavy cloak. Seven hells, you didn’t even know each other’s names. The thought almost made you jump out the window. Everything was riding on convincing this council that we were madly in love and yet, for the life of you, you couldn’t tell anyone his name. You shivered, your wet clothes clinging to you like a second skin. How in the gods names was this going to work?

Loki stared at the ceiling, still wondering if he’d done the right thing. She was the one, he was sure of it, but he had no idea how or why, of all people, he’d been given her name. He definitely hadn’t been expecting a human when he’d pictured the person attached to the name YN. It wasn’t ideal. Asgard had never had a human queen and he knew that convincing the council that they were in love wouldn’t be easy. If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure she’d survive until the orange moon.

He rubbed his face and tried not to let himself get discouraged. She was important, he knew that much. He just had to trust that he was doing the right thing by making her the solution to his regency.

The sound of the window opening in the adjacent room caught his attention and he waited to see if she would take off. He wouldn’t stop her if she did. If she couldn’t stay by choice, they’d never have a chance at convincing the council. And judging by the way she looked like she wanted to kill them for most of their conversation, he would say their chances were already pretty slim. He wouldn’t blame her either, after the stunt he’d pulled in the office.

Loki listened as she moved around the room, his Fey hearing letting him to know that she was exploring the room, opening drawers and searching for who knew what. Strangely, the noises comforted. At least he knew that she had some sort of fight in her. She’d need it.

As if there weren’t a million other more pressing thoughts in his head, the sound of her opening the bathroom door made him realize that he’d need to bring her clothes tomorrow. What she had looked like it would disintegrate at any moment and he had a feeling there was nothing but weapons in that tiny satchel of hers. But until he could bring her to the seamstress, he figured she’d have to make do with whatever his court had to spare.

The thought seemed trivial compared to Hella’s scheming and the eminent war that Gamora had forseen, but at least it was something to focus on that didn’t make him want to spend the afternoon sparing until he was so sore he couldn’t walk. Loki couldn’t shake the feeling that what he was doing wouldn’t be enough to save his people, but at least he could push it to the back of his mind and focus on the problems he could fix. Like the fact that now that had her in the palace, his court would demand to know everything and would probably have a million things to say about it. Loki sunk a little deeper into his mattress. They could wait until tomorrow. He’d be no use to anyone exhausted anyways. Eventually, he heard the bathroom door open again and then nothing on her side. With only a couple hours until daylight, Loki knew he should try and find sleep as well.

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x you #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x y/n #marvel fic #fan fiction #fanfic #alternate universe

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ms-m-astrologer · 4 years ago

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Could you (or maybe have you already done that) expand a little the subject of ages? I've been doing a bit of digging, but I'm still throughly confused

Thanks for the ask! That is an EXCELLENT subject, especially for today, the day of the Aries Equinox....

The Earth, as it orbits the Sun, isn’t in a straight up-and-down orientation. We are tilted about 22-23 degrees, like a /. One of the effects of this is that the view of the stars, from the Earth, seems to “wobble” a bit. True North, for example, has pointed at different “North Stars” over the eons. Right now the North Star is Polaris, but 4,000 years ago it was Thuban. In 8,000 years it will be Deneb. And in 12,000 years, it will be Vega.

Another effect of the “wobble” concerns the Sidereal Vernal Point, or SVP. That is the day and time, the precise moment, that the Sun is exactly overhead at the equator, at noon, as it appears to be moving northward (i.e., the Aries equinox). Every year, over the eons of time, this Sidereal Vernal Point appears to move an infinitesimal bit backwards in relation to the Zodiac.

On January 1, 1900, the SVP was at 6 degrees 39 minutes 04 seconds of Pisces. On December 1, 2050, the SVP will be at 4 degrees 32 minutes 44 seconds of Pisces. That’s slow! What is meant by the “Age of Pisces,” is the entire length of time that the SVP is in Pisces.

(Side note: The “tropical” Zodiac, which is what I use, just calls the SVP “0 degrees Aries” dependent on the day/time this happens, and starts reckoning the sign divisions from there. Sidereal astrologers base their sign divisions on the constellations.)

Reckoning when one “Age” is over and the next one begins, is a favorite topic of astrologers to argue about. Many people just divide each “age” into convenient 2,140-year chunks - it takes about 25,700 years for the SVP to move completely around the Zodiac.

One of the problems, though, is that the actual constellations aren’t all exactly 30 degrees in length. They range from 18 degrees (Libra) to 46 degrees (Virgo).

A Wiccan astrologer, Maria Kay Simms (whose books I very much enjoy), did some research in the 1980s. Like many of us Boomers, she has a strong background in Christianity; Maria investigated the timing of various astrological ages based on the actual sizes of the constellations, not the convenient 30-degree or 2,140-year divisions - and using the Bible (specifically the Book of Genesis) as a “check.” From what we knew about ancient Biblical history in the 1980s, everything checked out. By Maria’s reckoning, the Age of Pisces will end around 2700 CE.

(The book she wrote about this process is called Twelve Wings of the Eagle. If you aren’t familiar with the Bible, you probably won’t get much out of it.)

Maria wrote another book, The Witch’s Circle (former title, Circle of the Cosmic Muse). Her second chapter is devoted to the “problem” of astrological ages. She notes the irony that so many of the Age of Pisces “bashers” tend to describe their preferred sign, Aquarius, with terms more suited to the feminine sign Pisces: compassion, mysticism, Universal Love, the rise of the women’s movement, etc. She pleads with her readers “to understand the age we are in and to consequently improve it, rather than escaping into a fantasy world (a Piscean trait) by projecting all hopes for change onto an age that even our children’s children won’t live to see.”

Whew, I hope I didn’t lose anybody! Blessings, XOXOXO

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kth1 · 5 years ago

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Crosscurrents [Hoseok x Reader] Part 1

Crosscurrents - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Genre: The Little Mermaid AU | Fantasy AU | Series Pairing: Mermaid!Hoseok x Princess!Reader Featuring: BTS Princes Warnings: Angst, fluff, rated G, sorry no smut, mentions of pain, eventual character death, it’s just a fantasy story. W/C: 6k Summary: Hoseok is a carefree middle child among seven princes, each running one of the seven seas. With a curious nature to study the world above, he makes several routine visits to the surface, once even saving an alluring princess who he grows very smitten by. With a strong determination to meet his lovely princess, Hoseok makes a risky deal with the ocean’s enchantress to become human. Author’s Note: This fic is something I was utterly happy and exited to write. Mermaids and fantasy stories, yippee. Thank you all who support me. Portions of the fic is unedited. 🐚🧜‍♂️

Credits: Story includes strong elements from Hans Christian Andersen’s ‘The Little Mermaid’; Disney’s ‘The Little Mermaid’; and Michiko Yokote’s manga ‘Mermaid Melody’. Beta Reader: @shadowsremedy has helped me with a handful of passages throughout the course of this story, thank you so much.

☀ CROSSCURRENT MASTERLIST ☀

Miles away under the sun-kissed surface of the ocean, where the water is clear as crystal and blue as the contrasting sky above – resided populations of beautiful mythical creatures. Down in the lowest depths, the most scarce of areas that no human would ever dare to scavenge, lived the Mer-people.

Underwater forestry, plants, organisms of wondrous visions illuminating the deepest pits of the oceans. Fishes of all sizes and shapes occupied the area, weaving through the stems and leaves of charted trees along the motion of the currents. Just as birds fly among the surface. Gorgeous sands decorated the floor along with seven separate kingdoms enriched with enchanting palaces, each declaring a claim to their own sea.

Each palace, unique in their own way. Accommodating their surrounding habitats. Each of the seven districts ruled under the marvelous Mer-King, and each sea acquainted a heavenly, handsome prince. Kingdoms decorated with coral walls, sculpted sandstone slates and amber pointed windows. Roofs made from the finest and largest of mussel-shells, clams and hidden glittering pearls and jewels. Stones of riches, easily the most expensive gems that belonged in the pits of the hidden worlds.

The Mer-King seeded the realms with seven little princes who were all very beautiful children in their own distinctive ways. For each Prince, were given a household to look after, to grow up with, and study in practice to control their provinces.

Within the Arctic Ocean, where merfolk varied in shades of murky indigo and dotted with black spots was inhabited by the eldest of sons, Prince Seokjin. The Indian Ocean decorating the waves with scales of vibrant oranges complimented with a singular stripe of white down the backside, consisted Prince Yoongi. The cold of the Antarctic rested Prince Namjoon, along with his kingdom of deep purple-to-silver tailed scaly family. Tails irradiated a glow just like the moon reflecting on water.

Creatures in the North and South Pacific diverse in tropical colors, salmon pink beings belonging to Prince Jimin in the north, and bright crisp yellow folks ruled under the south’s youngest, Prince Jungkook. The last two kingdoms lay in the Atlantic Ocean. Beautiful deep green tails of the north, quipped with touches of holographic shine belonged to Prince Taehyung. Lastly, the region in the South Atlantic was full of rays of aqua blue and speckled with gold – is where Prince Hoseok lives.

Throughout their childhoods, given brief age gaps and the stretch of locations between another, the brothers all grew up together. Frequent visits, family gatherings being a constant presence with the young boys. All merfolk belonged to another, they took after another and populated the sea floor. Fishes would swim up, gently being held, feeding out of the hands of mermaids and mermen. Eventually within a mer-person’s life, they will be acquainted with a creature of any species. A forever buddy that becomes their pet, their friend, and family.

The beauty of the South Atlantic Ocean kingdom with a magnificent palace that had astounding flowers growing between the cracks of the walls in each apartment and room, was decorated with a large garden in the front. Full of dark and iridescent baby-blue trees with fruits that glittered like gold. Matching the specs of gold that embellished the tails of the locals. Flowers blazed with hues of butterscotch yellows, resembling the bright and burning sun from the surface above. Bushes and smaller shrubs matched the color of sulfur.

Hoseok was certainly a singular child, one who was quiet and thoughtful in group settings, but was the loudest and most careless when it came to freedom. His skin was soft and delicate, like the touch of a sunflower leaf. His eyes sparked a deep blue, twisted with an almond mix of brown. His tail was no doubt the most stunning in his sector, outshining others around him, a tell-tailed sign that he was of royalty. But the most notable of signs that screams royalty was the unique earring that never left Hoseok’s lobe.

Each handsome prince was given a dedicated pearl at their coming of age ceremonies, each identifying with their tail color. To which they must protect and kept safe for the sake of their empires. For the fact that these pearls harness great mystical powers, such power compacted within one tiny jewel. But this power could completely destroy a nation if given to the wrong hands, and if their owners neglect their duties.

Nothing pleased Prince Hoseok more than hearing about the unreachable world from above. Human beings who lived on land, not within the sea. Stories fascinated the curious mind of Hoseok, constantly being riddled with tales of these notorious humans. Over time, with the help of Nannies and families, Hoseok’s knowledge grew when it came to the world that was simply out of reach. Ships, towns, land animals, you name it.

Over the course of his younger days, he ventured out into the sea, accompanied by his trusty companion, Kiko – a leafy sea dragon. Together they collected a handful of unknown knick knacks, thingamajigs, and doohickeys that they forged for from shipwrecks. To this day – Hoseok still makes these trips, ventured out further into the sea without supervision, even breaking the surface of the water to catch a glimpse of the amazing world.

Nights where he could sneak away, rise to the surface and lay under the moonlight in the clefts of the rocks. Watching lights from the shoreline flicker dimly, the casted stars sparkling the sky in beautiful constellations.

“It’s so beautiful up here, isn’t it Kiko?” Hoseok spoke towards the leafy sea dragon that circled around his fins which remained dipped in the water. He sighed, breathing in the foreign air, the dryness cutting into his lungs. The wind played with his shaggy hair, his earring dangling along. His eyes set firmly on the coast, waves easing in and out at the ridge of the bay. Everything up here was so unfamiliar to Hoseok, so tempting and entertaining.

“There’s beautiful places all over. And under.” Kiko mused back. Skeptical and cautious as she grew accustomed to Hoseok’s nightly adventures. There was no way she could talk the Prince out of his plans, ever.

“But up here is so – is so,” he pauses. Noticing a small child holding an elder woman’s hand, probably enjoying a nightly walk on the beach. “… Amazing.”

The high church-towers were in view within the town that lined the coast. Carriages and music playing in the distance, even the chime of bells ringing. The simple fact that he could not go there himself caused him to yearn for it more, wish for it to happen in his dreams. This Prince was indeed passionate about the land before him, stretching his hands towards the air.

“Careful yourself, Hoseok.” Kiko warned. “It’s late, shouldn’t we be heading back before someone notices your disappearance?”

He nodded, with his eyes still trained on the silhouettes of the strolling humans. Watching them turn up a set of stairs and disappearing behind the curve of the walkway. He was fascinated, the kinship between humans wasn’t much different from his to his folks. Humans were so distant, but they seemed so similar to him.

A small tug on his fin caught his attention, seeing his little buddy pulling him. “Let’s go, you have a busy day tomorrow.”

On the swim back, descending down into the dept of the sea, Hoseok reminisced his favorite times above water. The early mornings, the midday views of seagulls flying high above in flocks, the sunsets were clouds scattered the sky and painted in violets, reds, and oranges. Watching the Sun extinguish into the horizons plane as the cool of the night sky took over.

Hoseok loved the upper world and all its inhabitants so very much.

Daybreak tickled the waters, reflections of lights bouncing and refracting off another in the clear-cut liquids. It shined through Hoseok’s large amber window, casting a ray on his slumbering face causing him to wince. His body curled tighter in his clam-based bed; a thicket of woven blankets made of the finest kelp keeping him comfortable. Bio-luminescent decorations that drifted within his quarters losing their dim glows.

Shortly, his door would be knocked upon. Guards prepared to assist him along his daily routines, breakfast, taking a swim through the gardens, fitting for dresswear. Today, his brothers were due for a visit – since his kingdom was hosting the annual Festival of the Arts this year, as the event rotated between each realm every year.

It was always a delight to seek comfort from his siblings, to talk among another with similar thoughts and feelings as each and every single one of them were in the same shoes – in this case, fins. They were close to another regardless of the actual distance of their homes. And he was more than happy to celebrate the festivities and provide his best hosting service.

Prince Jungkook was the first to have arrived along with his party, very atypical of the youngest who outshines the mer-world quite frankly with his beaming yellow tail and natural abilities. His excitement to see his older brother urgently was overwhelming as he searched throughout the Aqua realm’s palace for Hoseok. Wittingly enough, he knew Hoseok’s patterns, the layout of the entire home.

“Hyung!” Rang through the water – not sounding quick enough for Hoseok to process before the bulldozing clash of his body into another’s. Tough arms circled Hoseok, tightening in a rush just in time for him to tilt his head to catch the sight of jet-black hair and a flash of canary yellow.

“Ah, Jungkook. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Hoseok hollers. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Jungkook laughs, holding his brother tight and against his will, “I’m sorry Hobi – it won’t happen again.” The scrunch of Jungkook’s nose and the teasing smile made his quick apology sound completely fake.

“You’ve filled out more I see.” He notes the stature of Jungkook from the last time he’s seen him. Chest expanding further, his hair longer and pulled in a half bun with loose ends spilling out around his fringe. The twinkle of Jungkook’s yellow pearl lays just between his clavicles on a threaded necklace. But his youngest brother still adorned his childlike smile, large eyes popping out with animation.

“Indeed, I have.” Said the yellow tailed man.

“Have you prepared well for the ceremony tonight?” Hoseok questioned while shifting out of the other man’s clutch, fluttering his fingers through his case of human books. Careful not to tear the thinned papers that were not made for the water.

They were in the secondary study – dedicated to Hoseok’s cherished collectibles of human items that drifted down to the sea floor. It was a private area, filled with wonder and intertwining plants. So many new and beautiful objects decorated the interior of the room along with the drifting innocent fishes that floated around like fruit flies.

Jungkook grabbed hold of his brothers’ hand, tearing him past the seaweed curtains and out of the room. “I need help with a part of the choreography – I’m not sure what to do.”

Each of the seven princes were a part of the annual festival, performing their own pieces of art. Music surrounded their lives, and each prince specialized in one of the three professions: Singer. Dancer. Composer.

In tune with another – they create a perfect melody, a rhythm they cast into the waters. And all together they grow stronger with the help of their pearls.

“Let’s not head to the ballroom – I’m sure they are still setting up.”

“Jungkook! Sir!! Prince!” A peep of a scream came from the corner, a frantic Moorish Idol fish bee-lining towards the two still Princes. “Don’t you bolt off like that again! I can’t catch up with your speed!” it pants as it swarms around Jungkook’s face.

“Gotta be quicker, Pip!” Jungkook giggled, using his fingers to brush against his tuckered-out buddy.

Pip eyed Hoseok, recognizing the older Prince and jumped in embarrassment. “Prince, I apologize! I didn’t greet you properly, please I am so dearly sorry!”

“No need for formalities.” A wave of Hoseok’s hand hushed Pip’s words. “It’s nice to see you again. Now – about that choreography…”

The rooms were lit to the high-nine. Capacity of several variations of flourished colored tails decorated Hoseok’s palace – events like these are his favorite. Not only is he surrounded by his school, he’s encircled by his glorious brothers. The only thing that stressed out the aqua tailed prince, wasn’t the planning of events, fitting for costumes, dresswear, or deciding the best dishes to cater. The performance he practiced for day in and day out alike his brothers – what stressed Hoseok out was the company of his father, the Mer-King himself who only showed his presence for special occasions.

Each Prince were presented in front of the crowd of hundreds, their titles in all. Dolled up to accommodate the affair with engaging chains that wrapped around their waists and wrists, extra clam and shell accessories added to decorate around their loose arms and tail. Designed capes, hip skirts, and sheer fabrics that moved with the waves as they would do with the wind from above. Crowns made from wreaths of white lilies with bejeweled opal white pearls dangling down the band.

One by one they presented their acts along the stage, an entertaining uproar surpassed through the crowds from the Royal’s concert. The dancers who weaved like fluid coil to the cords of music were nonother than the feisty topaz yellow Jungkook, the carefree aquamarine dazzled Hoseok, and the flirtatious yet ditzy salmon pink royal, Prince Jimin.

Contrasting the dancers were the stunning vocalists of the group, Seokjin and Taehyung. Together they crafted a harmonious aura with their lyrics and tones. Entreating voices far sweeter than any human or mer-folk around.

Princes Namjoon and Yoongi of the Antarctic and Indian Oceans were strong composers, masters in a range of musical instruments. Their wits, knowledge, and pure love for the magical symphonies poured out of their bodies through devices and tools. Drafting tunes for songs every breathing moment.

It was late once again as Hoseok frustratedly swam up to his usual cove. Hoisting his body up on a smooth rocky islet that broke through the surface. Up here, Hoseok felt light and at ease. Repressing the tensions that bellowed below in the pit of his realm. The breeze was steady and refreshing, toying with the stands of his dampened hair and drying off the droplets of water that trickled down his skin.

He shed the tokens that deemed his high rank prior to wondering off from the palace, only keeping his stationary earpiece securely in. The clouds floating are coated in golden and rosy shades, evening stars piercing the sky in the dimming east. The nearing night looked extraordinary in Hoseok’s eyes.

A large ship with three white masts settled still on the water with only one sail unraveled. People littered the deck, music and song resounded from the vessels, and soon after when the night casted over the sky, the light of hundreds of lamps burst into view.

It was odd for a ship to be sailed far out during this time, even more peculiar to have a scatter of lights beaming from floating lamps that hovered into the air.

He swam close to the captain’s cabin being cautious to stay low in the water, and with every rock of the waves Hoseok was able to look through the clear windowpanes. Kiko stayed close to Hoseok, wiggling herself into his hand for security as they drawn near the scary object that rested on the water.

There were many richly dressed humans within, gowns and suits decorating each member in a fashion. The most bewitching of them, a person who stood out of the crowd and stared into the far distance of the water was a young princess with flowing thick hair. No doubt in Hoseok’s mind that this beauty was no younger than him, and he felt completely captivated by her looks.

A festival was being celebrated on the same day Hoseok’s home celebrated his. In honor of this princess’s birthday the crew were dancing and singing on the upper deck, similar to how Hoseok’s family just partook on a stage deep below. It was fascinating his wondering eyes, activities so alike to his own. And the moment the princess appeared among the lively bunch, rockets shot up into the air, turning the night into day.

The loud boom of cracks sizzling into the air scared Hoseok and Kiko, forcing him to dip his head back under the surface.

“Let’s go back! This isn’t safe!” Kiko chimed in, shaking her frail leafy body.

Hoseok looked up through the plane of water, eyes wide with shock. Not once has he ever seen this lightshow before. These weren’t cracks of blue zigzags that dressed the sky like lightning, theses were bright loud bangs of noise that sparked fire.

Through his perception, he watched the glows vanish. Until another boom ripped through the air along with another flash of light. “Hold on.” He says.

The curious merman raised his head above water again to witness a scene of falling stars upon him. A fiery shower he surely has never seen before tonight. It was like large suns revolved around his head, the brightest of fishes swam in the air that reflected on the clear glass-slate of water of the sea. Who knew humans could have such power.

The princess could be seen distinctly throughout the sailors that laughed and jested with glee. Her face adorned with a wide smile, one that shined so bright. “Oh – she’s so beautiful, isn’t she?”

It was later now, but Hoseok couldn’t take himself away from the ship and the beautiful young princess. She remained looking through that cabin window, rocking to and fro by the motion of the sea. He was enchanted by her, charmed by this unique being. There was something about her.

“Would you look at her?” Hoseok examined, smiling to himself. “She’s breathtaking.”

Kiko fluttered around Hoseok, a nervous wreck of a fish as she sensed an unnerving suspicion. “Please, we must go back. We’ve overstayed too long.”

“Oh poppycock. The palace is in perfect condition. Nobody will notice me missing.”

“Sir – “

There was foaming and fermentation in the depths beneath causing the ship to tilt faster. Waves rose high and violent in a span of minutes. Sails were spread, a commotion coming from the desk resounded. A distant thunder was heard, rumbling through the space above.

“Ah – father…” Hoseok snapped his head, “He’s angry.”

“I told you we must go!”

Hoseok and Kiko both swam a few meters down after once last glance at the ship that furled their sails once more. Until a sudden pound echoed through the waves. The great vessel tossed and turned on the volatile waters like a rowboat as the waves rose to an extreme height. It towered over the ship, clashing forcefully into the deck and submerging the manmade object. Water filled the cavities of the deck, the stout masts bent under the swirling billows.

“Hoseok!” Kiko shouted at the stunned merman who watched with wide eyes. An internal struggle inside him to tell him to go back to the Mer-King or to help the sinking ship. “We need to go!”

“I can’t! It’s going to turn over into the sea!”

Just as he guessed, the crew among the vessel was in terrible danger; since he himself had to beware the shattered beams that tore away from the vessel and splashed down above him. Wreckage both floating and sinking, causing hazards to think twice about.

“Get him to stop Kiko, tell him I’m fine! Just stop the storm!” Hoseok shooed his seahorse away, heading himself to the surface and ignoring the pleading screams.

It was pitch dark above, so dark that he could not distinguish anything until a flash of lightning disclosed to him the whole of wreck. Burning flames above the water. Hoseok only felt urgent for his wondrous princess as he sought her out the instant the ship kissed the bottom of the seafloor.

Hoseok knows no human can breathe underwater, he knows the only times he’s seen a human up close were the bodies of corpses that drifted down into the depths. He did not want that fate for the princess.

He dove himself through the shards and fragments that sprinkled within the water regardless of the danger he was inducing but with his steady swim he found the princess having difficulty holding her head high. Her eyes already closed while clutching her frame around a piece of driftwood, inevitably would have drowned completely if it wasn’t for the aqua blue merman who came to the rescue. Bearing the force of the heavy current, holding the princess above the water’s surface.

The sun rose in the horizon towards morning, by then the ongoing storm had seized and there weren’t any traces of remains from the shipwreck. Rays of lights restored color to the princess’s cheeks, though her eyes remained closed. Her dampened dress riddled with sand and stray leaves of seaweed.

They lay off in a secluded cove far from the casually populated beach. Surrounding cliffs hiding them away. Hoseok laid gazing up at the arresting princess, stroking the strand of wet hair away from her face. Her skin was soft like a rose petal, and a slight pink undertone hid beneath its expanse. “Please wake.” He whispered as he studied her features.

This was the first time Hoseok laid about the land, just shy of the waters reach. He could see the dry green wood that extended along the coast, cliffs and mountains drawn clearer. Firm quartz sand which he now occupied along with his new companion. He turned her face towards the rising sun that was illuminating the world.

A quiet sound escaped the mouth of the princess, surprising the merman suddenly. He leaned back, head blocking the sun from direct view of her face while she sleepily opened them. The haze of her eyes coated her sight, looking at the figure that was in view. She grumbled, blinking rapidly to readjust the image before her. A stranger hovered over her, a concerned look across their handsome face as they looked down at her in curiosity. Golden brown hair flowed around; a glint of blue entrapped into his brown almond eyes.

“Hello,” Hoseok whispered, lifting the corner of his lips up.

“Who-“

Hoseok shifted the moment he heard of loud barking noise coming from the side of a cliff. His movement caused the piercing rays of light to shine into the princess’s eyes, blinding her some more.

The merman jolted away from the shore in a panic, hiding behind some stones further into the sea. Hoseok watched from afar with unyielding attention, a black four-legged being running towards the reviving princess. A small group of men followed suit to the black figure who alerted the humans of its findings.

“Oh Princess!” one shouted as they ran over. They smiled kindly down at her, assisting her off the sands and into a blanket. “Princess Y/n, are you hurt?”

She was dazed and confused, checking her surroundings for the other person she just saw. Did she see someone or was it her imagination? Who had saved her from the previous night? “Where’s the man? The one who saved me?”

The surrounding men gave another a questioning look, looking quite confused when they eyed the area around them. “Miss, nobody is here besides us? You must have swallowed too much seawater – it’s a miracle you survived.”

The black hairy creature spotted Hoseok out, yapping towards him and trying to get the humans attention. The animal saw him, no doubt, and Hoseok ducked for cover under the waves as they passed, waiting for his moment to come back up.

The princess was taken back onto the land with the assistance of the furry creature and humans, leaving Hoseok distraught behind the stones of the bay. But he was relieved that she survived, her beauty could live on longer, and he couldn’t wait to share his story about how he saved a human. Immediately, when the princess was finally out of view, he plunged beneath the water to return back to his palace.

“Y/n…” He hummed, repeating the sweet name that rang his ears. “Her name is Y/n.”

“Where did you go last night?” The Mer-King shouted in the dining hall. Hoseok floated in front of his father, eyes trained to the seabed below their fins. The six other brothers hovered off to the side in a stationary line, motionless as they watched the scolding unfold. Each accompanied by their personal pets who too drifted in the silence of the water.

“Answer me, Hoseok!” the King’s voice resembled the same boom of the magical fire show from last night.

“I – I was… I went...”

“Don’t you dare tell me you escaped up to the surface.”

Hoseok fell silent. His words lost in his throat when he made eye contact with his father. The King stood still with the length of his graying hair exceeding past his shoulder blades, a crown sat atop his head made out of coral and angulate wentletrap shells. Spikes of eelgrass flowing from the tips of the multicolored crown. His slimy tail was ombre from a berry red into a sandy brown – dorsal fins displayed wide and drifted just how a beta fish would, flared up just how a beta fish would. His steel gray eyes stared down at Hoseok with intensity, waiting for a response.

Voiceless silence. Hoseok could not speak another word without distressing his father any further. In defeat he hung his head down to the floor, sinking his shoulders.

“You are not to leave the palace.” The King’s voice broke through. “You are not to enter the surface of the water. Do I make myself clear?”

“But Fath –“

“Am I clear!?” He shouted. Voice echoing through the quiet halls of the palace – hand clutching his beloved trident tight.

“Yes, Sir.” Hoseok grimaced. Kiko fleeing into the middle of Hoseok’s back.

The Mer-King departed the dining hall, leaving the seven brothers to themselves. It was when Hoseok looked up seeing the concerning looks crossing each of his brothers, did he feel guilty for his actions.

“What are you doing? You know you shouldn’t meddle around up above. What if someone saw you?!” Namjoon spoke, the cool tone of his voice chilled through the water. The purple scaled man swam closer to Hoseok, the slate of silver shining through his hair and the tip of his fins. His purple pearl shimmered in the arm cuff on his right of his crossed arms, his crab responding in the same gesture. “Hoseok, think of the dangers.”

“I know. But hear me out – I did something so amazing last night!”

“Namjoon’s right, you know this.” Seokjin stepped in with a pointing finger embellished with his pearl, “And to pull that stunt, especially when father is visiting, you’re asking to be yelled at.” His small, very animated manta ray wiggled around Seokjin’s mannerisms, copying the same movements as he did.

Hoseok’s mouth formed a triangle frown. Resentment settling in the pit of his stomach along with a mix of emotions. “Can you just listen to me?”

“Then speak.” Heads turned over to the aloof green merman who seated himself on top of the turquoise sea-glass table. The side of his hair clipped back with a white barbed clam, allowing the rest of his deep brown wavy hair to flow naturally. Under his ear shined the dark pine colored pearl, just how Hoseok’s did. Taehyung’s fingers twirled around his pale jellyfishes’ ruffled tentacles, staring off into the distance in deep thought. “What was amazing?”

Hoseok scanned the eyes around him, taking in a strong breath before telling his otherworldly experience. The merfolk knew of legends, myths and facts about the land above. Artifacts that fallen down into their domains created curiosity but there were fears of the stories about merfolk traveling far too close to the coastline. Humans may be mystical to mer-people, but it was never wise to breach the surface to study them.

“And the lights started falling down after the loud bang! Fire burning and sizzling out in beautiful streams! It was so bright!” He exclaimed with his audience listening in. “But then the storm demolished the ship! It happened so fast!” Hoseok continued his dramatic story with such immense passion, comparing how humans and merfolk celebrated in similar ways.

It infatuated the listening ears, well, some more than others. “And then I saved her from the wreck! I saved her guys! I brought her to the shore and – “

“You what?”

Yoongi, with a tail of vibrant marmalade orange cut his younger brothers train of thought. His narrow coal cut eyes shot angry towards Hoseok. A menacing stare emitting from the shaggy dirty blonde-haired male, questioning his brother’s reckless behavior. “You went on land?!” His pet lionfish flared its fins at the tone of his owner’s voice, grumbling something about idiocy.

“She lived because of me!” Hoseok retorted, leveling up to the stinging tension that was rising quickly.

“You’re troublesome, really.” Yoongi chided. “She would have been fine if you were here in your palace! That storm wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you!”

“You’re setting a bad example for the younger ones.” Seokjin nodded towards the wafting men who innocently drifted in the background of the conversation.

Hoseok fumbled over his words, mouth gaping open looking for words to fill into it. He knows his brothers aren’t wrong, they were just being cautious. But Hoseok felt like they looked down upon his widened spectrum, his drive to expand the knowledge about the world above. It wasn’t fair with all the limitations merfolk had, and even more restrictions for a Prince.

Hoseok grew quiet and reflective as days passed by. Obeying the tolls and jobs of his prince duties, being kind to other fish folk and leaning a helping hand for many in need. He stabilized his environment, praised the coral reefs that skirted his territory, even assisted with gathering the ripened fruits that sprouted from the gardens’ trees.

Though each and every day Hoseok pondered about the princess who lived above. Questioning to himself about her whereabouts, how she was doing and what she was doing. He dared to stare at the new statue that became his favorite décor in his luxurious field of flowers. A beautiful stone chiseled and sculpted to look like the princess, partially broken from the wreck of the ship, now stood in the middle of his oyster paddock.

When Hoseok wanted to be a daredevil, he succeeded in slipping away from the eyes of his staff and even his personal buddy. Rushing himself back to the surface where he loved so dearly to catch the linger of the air that dried his face and scales. Many times, he rose to the place where he had last seen Princess Y/n, where he left her on the sands before scurrying away. He always returned to his subterranean abode with a bit of sadness when he never saw her.

It was dawn when the first light creeped through the panels of Hoseok’s second study where he was toying around with one of his thingamajigs, trying to understand the use of it. He had an unexpected visitor in the middle of the night, a slither of a reflective shine catching his eye. An oily slick tinted film in the moonlight when he angled his tail in the right way.

“Taehyung.” Hoseok breathed, “You should have told me you were heading here; I would have arranged a genuine greeting for you when you entered the gates.”

He seemed cheerier during the night hours, maybe it was the relaxation of the disphotic zone or the cool temperament of fishes relaxing. Whichever excuse it may be, Taehyung always glowed better during the evening. “I’m sorry hyung – I wanted to check in on you. I was worried.”

They spent the entire night in deep thoughts, conversing to another about their worries and provinces. A few discussions about trades between regions, assembling plans and arrangements for brotherly gatherings. Taehyung found a fascination with a particular utensil from Hoseok’s study, a metal tool that had spikes at one end and a smooth handle on the other.

Throughout the night Hoseok confessed his sorrows to his younger brother, revealing his secret about the princess he had saved. How her beauty enchanted him, imprinting on his mind, how her statue now lays in the greens of his garden. The embarrassment crept up to him, distracting himself from his feelings as he showed Taehyung around his collection of human things.

“If my memory is correct, I believe I might know who your princess may be, because I have seen a castle above the waters.” Taehyung twirls the man-made gizmo around his fingers as he speaks. “When you mentioned her before in your story, I grew curious.”

Hoseok was caught off-guard from Taehyung’s words, stunned even. “Y – You know where she lives? You need to show me!” The aqua tailed man fluttered around with a sense of emergency, he held Taehyung’s hand pleading to him. “Please brother, show me what you know. It’s a wonderful morning already, the current is leveled, and the waters are clear!”

Embracing their arms together, Taehyung and Hoseok swam out past the palace walls into the blue of the ocean. Together they rose out of the water after miles of swimming, just in front of a tall bend in a cliff. They remained far off from the cost, deep enough to be unnoticed from the naked eye. But from their point of view they were able to see a castle with bright yellow stones, a flight of marble steps that led straight into the sea. Statues topped the pillars that outlined the walls, the building crowned with a Caspian blue. A great bay window faced toward the sea, the windows expanding long and wide.

The area was farther out from Hoseok’s natural comfort spot, he would pass this sector many times when he would visit up north to Taehyung’s realm.

From a closer look the two mermen can see silken curtains that hugged the frames of large bay windows, the walls inside decorated from top to bottom with magnificent paintings. Blurred bodies of servants walking across the tiled floors and expensive rugs. Deep within one of the larger rooms there was a fountain glittering with dancing water which sprouted from several areas surrounded by long stems and tendrils of plants.

“It’s so beautiful.” Hoseok whispered, creeping himself closer towards the castle that was built on the edge of the cliff. It was a real delight for the royal mermen to witness an abode so lovely, so riveting.

“This is the only castle I know of. I’m hoping this could be her palace.” Taehyung swam down, toying around with his small jellyfish in a fit of giggles. Dangling strands of seaweed around as if he’s forging the same motion as his buddy’s tentacles.

Hoseok dipped his head under, meeting up with the green tailed strides. “Thank you, Taehyung!” Hoseok’s arms entangled around Taehyung’s waist, spinning the two mermen in circles.

“It’s not far from the area where I saved her. Oh, I do hope this is her home!”

Taehyung beamed back a boxy smile, noticing the wild spirit of Hoseok shine. He was aware of the consequences of going to the surface, aware how enraged father could get when the sons acted up. But he was very happy to help out his brother – he saw something in Hoseok that he didn’t see in the others.

“Please, whatever you may do. Just be safe.” He petted the side of his brother’s hair, flicking his finger over Hoseok’s pearl earring.

#ficswithluv #btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #armysource #bangtanhq #magicshopnet #crosscurrents #crosscurrents part 1 #hoseok x reader #mermaid AU #mermaid hoseok #bts fanfic #series #jung hoseok #hoseok #jhope #hobi #bts

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evolutionsvoid · 5 years ago

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No matter where you spot one of these creatures, it will be a sight that shall definitely catch your attention. A beast that lives in two worlds, both water and land. Depending on which element you find these creatures in, you will get rather different impressions! If you are canoeing down the winding, murky rivers of the tropics, a glimpse of a smooth muddy hide slipping through the water will get your heart racing! A crocodilian shape lurking in the cloudy waters that surround you immediately brings the worse to mind. A stealthy aquatic predator is circling your boat, certainly waiting to burst up from the depths and seize you in its terrible jaws! As it slithers past the surface again, you may notice its long, cruel claws. Powerful blades like those would certainly do a number on your boat! When you suddenly encounter one of these creatures out on the water, they can certainly give you a fright! If you happen to see one on land however, a different thought will race through your mind, like: "What is this goofball doing here?" Up on dry land, the true nature of this species is clearly revealed, and you can easily see that they are no river monster or ravenous beast from the deep. The Myrmecetus are just silly goofs that like to have fun and love to chow down on some tasty treats! When they were first discovered, the stories claim that the finders believed them to be amphibians. With smooth wet skin, webbed limbs and a love for water, you could see where one would slip up on first glance. Closer inspection, though, will reveal details that show what group this species truly belongs too. With special hairs on the end of its snout and teats on their underside, it becomes obvious that the Myrmecetus are actually mammals! Their strange appearance is because they are related to whales and dolphins, much like their similar cousins, the Sousuins! You can see the similarities in their smooth, hairless hide and the nostrils that have migrated upward into a blowhole. For this species, they have ditched the aquatic lifestyle for a more amphibious one, constantly switching between the water and land. As I mentioned before, the Myrmecetus live in the tropics, preferably where there are plenty of freshwater rivers. Their webbed limbs and paddle tail help them swim elegantly through the water, and their flexible bodies allow them to navigate through flooded forests! Unlike fully aquatic creatures, they are not forced to remain in deep water as they can slither through the shallows or clamber over barriers and tangles. Instead of flippers, they possess pudgy limbs that can be used for climbing over debris and walking across land. However, calling this "walking" fails to describe their humorous gait. It is more of a waddle, or the awkward shamble of a fat crocodile. This is because their limbs are rather short and the forelimbs possess some hefty claws on them. These blades are good weapons, but make walking a tad difficult. Though they are quick and graceful in the water, their prowess on the land is a bit lacking. Don't get me wrong, they can travel across the land, it just isn't the most dignified looking thing. With their mode of terrain travel a bit odd, one may wonder why these creatures visit the land. Surely they would be better off in the water, where they can swim about with ease! While that is true, the Myrmecetus still come to shore in search of food. It is on land that they find their preferred source of food, and plenty of it! With a hefty set of claws, one may think that they are powerful predators that rend prey and feast upon their innards, but that is not the case. The claws are indeed used for getting food, but in a different way! What they seek out on dry land is not fresh meat, but the telltale signs of an ant colony! They want big mounds that promise a hefty colony full of ants and larvae! When they find a good hive, they use these long powerful claws to rip them open. Once a decent hole is made, they stick in their long thin snouts and begin to feed. Hidden within this elongated maw is incredibly long tongue, which shoots in and out at blinding speeds. Covered in sticky saliva and tiny barbs, this tongue snags plenty of ants and larvae as it probes the many tunnels and chambers. The captured bugs are pulled back into the mouth whenever the tongue retreats, and the mouthful is ground up and swallowed. Obviously, the ants are not a fan of this and will go into attack mode. With sharp jaws and painful stingers, they can do quite a lot of damage to an unprepared foe. Fortunately, the Myrmecetus is well equipped to deal with these tiny soldiers. Like all members of its family, it possesses a layer of blubber beneath its skin. While others may use this to keep warm, the Mymecetus instead uses it as protective padding! This blubber serves as a barrier between the angry ants and its more sensitive tissues. It possesses a sparse amount of special nerves that are able to dilute the pain brought on by the jaws and stings. It also has pockets of special fluid that counteract the ants' venom, making it rather painless to them. Another protective feature can be found around their eyes. The muscle and skin around their eyes are a bit thicker than the usual eyelid, which allows them to retract and hide from any attacking insects. The blowhole up top can also seal itself shut, keeping out invaders! With all this, they can withstand the onslaught for a while, getting their fill before retreating from the angry colony. After feeding, they tend to seek out the nearest water source for a quick bath. Be it a river or a muddy hole, they will hop in and roll about in a comical fashion. This is meant to wash off any remaining ants that may still be clinging to their hide, to insure that they don't get stung when their guard is down.

Though ants are the main staple of their diet, Myrmecetus can feed on other critters to help fill their bellies. When there is a lack of ants or when an opportunity rises, they may go after small crustaceans and fish that hide in holes and burrows. Probing the shoreline with the sensitive hairs on their snout, they seek out small holes that they can stick their noses or tongues into. They can either use their barbed tongue or the hooked teeth on the front of their snout to snag prey and pull them into the mouth. Seeking out food this way can be a bit risky, as some denizens of these burrows may have pinching claws or biting teeth! These weapons are avoided by striking fast or using their keen senses to identify the threat and avoid it entirely. Both of these skills come with age and experience, and some younger ones may learn this lesson the painful way. It is believed that some "attacks" by a Myrmecetus were actually just a juvenile thrashing about due to a pinched tongue. Myrmecetus spend a good chunk of their lives in the water, as it is where they are the most agile and the most protected. If attacked in the water, they can swim away and stuff themselves in hard to reach places. The roots in a flooded forest are a good hiding spot, and the juveniles tend to hide in those if danger arises. When they are on land, however, escape is not the easiest option. They can't run super fast and their awkward gait would make them easy to catch. So when they are threatened on dry ground, they tend to pick fight over flight. With long claws and a toothy beak, they will seek to defend themselves. Their threatening display consists of them standing upright with the help of their long tails. Their claws are held open and ready to strike while they let out a wet hiss. Dare to strike, and you may get some nasty cuts when they start swinging their arms. One unexpected tactic they may have when attacked is grabbing hold of their foe and targeting the face. They seek out orifices like nostrils or ears and then lash out with their tongues. This may sound like a gross maneuver, but remember that these tongues are barbed. Getting tiny cuts in your nasal cavity or ear canal is extremely uncomfortable, and that can be enough for a predator to let go and flee. It is certainly an odd defense choice, but if it works, then who am I to judge? Swim time for the Myrmecetus is also social time, as they are very playful and interactive creatures. When in the water, they tend to find others of their kind and form a social pod. They spend a lot of time chatting and playing, swimming wildly through the underwater maze of roots and rocks as they chase each other for fun. This social lifestyle can also be seen when strangers visit their waters. Travelers and boaters often catch glimpses of these creatures as they sneak up to the surface for a peek. This often scares newcomers to these lands, as the Myrmecetus shares a similar shape with crocodiles and other nasty beasts. Their quick speed and long claws can give a terrifying impression, but these creatures very rarely attack others. As I mentioned before, these few "attacks" can probably be attributed to a Myrmecetus getting scared or injured and accidentally launching themselves onto a boat in a flurry of claws. If you are prepared for their inquisitive arrival and present yourself in a nonthreatening manner, then these little goofballs can be quite a show! When I was taken downriver on an expedition, I got to enjoy a visit from these creatures! They swam around our boats playfully, and some even popped up from the water to get a better look at us. We threw some bait their way and they grew rather fond of us! A couple even clambered onto the boats, some to get some sun and rest, and the others in search of more tasty treats! They were little rascals, but it was all in good fun! For locals, the Myrmecetus is a rather favored creature. Their playful nature and social ways make them quite endearing, and they don't really present any threat to folk. The worst they can do is scare off fish or get tangled in nets when one goes fishing, but many folk in the area have grown wise to this issue and plan their trips accordingly. Their nature has made them the subject of many myths and tales, with some painting these creatures as tricksters in legend. While they are rarely hunted, accidental catches or kills are often kept so that one may extract their blubber. This fatty layer possesses the fluids they use to counteract ant venom, and it can be pulped up to make a soothing salve that takes away burning pain. On a more nonlethal note, some folk have come to train the Myrmecetus to aid in fishing, navigation or even rescue. Their agility and smarts in the water make them quite reliable for scaring fish into nets or making their way through clogged water ways. In times when storms blow through or when rivers flood and wash away towns, these folk send out their friends to search for missing people or swept away boats. With their keen senses, they can zip through the river and locate those that are lost. They can use their bodies to keep overboard folk afloat or let out loud clicking calls to alert search parties. What a wonderful thing! Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian ------------------------------------------------- River dolphins got a long thin snout, anteaters have a long thin snout, so that is why we are here. Not the most fascinating idea, but it was a fun one

#anteater #dolphin #cetacean #river dolphin #monster #creature #art #drawing

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wisdomrays · 4 years ago

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TAFAKKUR: Part 297

A WORLD OF BALANCE

We live in a cozy and dynamic home called the Earth, which moves through cold, dark space at a great speed. Everything we need can be found on this specially made spacecraft of ours. There is neither excessive cold nor excessive heat. A moderate and pleasant climate prevails. There is an average temperature which has been kept at a dynamic balance throughout the centuries. In short, the earth has been made just for us. In order to understand this better, we need only to look at our satellite, the moon. During the day on the moon there is a burning heat which can rise up to 120 C and at night-time there is freezing cold which can fall down to -150 C. The moon is a land exposed to meteors, ultraviolet rays and cosmic rays; it is desolate and silent with no signs of life whatsoever.

In our world, the most practical solutions exist for the most complicated matters; the simplest things have important duties and splendid mechanisms are developed from these to carry out the same. Thanks to these mechanisms, there is a moderate climate and there are ideal values of air, pressure, heat and precipitation. Let us briefly consider a few of these systems that contribute to maintaining the average temperature in the world. The exact amount of solar energy we need reaches the Earth, and the distance between the sun and the earth plays an important role in this. If we think about the freezing cold on Mars, which is farther away from the sun, or the burning heat - a heat which melts even lead - of Venus, which is nearer to the Sun, we can appreciate the special status of the Earth and how carefully chosen its position is. If the solar energy that reaches the Earth were to decrease by only 10%, the average temperature of the Earth would decrease, and subsequently our planet would be iced over with an ice layer measuring a couple of meters in depth. A slight increase of solar energy, however, would burn everything and eradicate life on Earth.

We should not ignore the fact that our planet is of such a size that it is able to keep its gases within the atmosphere in ideal amounts and proportions. Our planet could have been created as small as Mercury (1/8 the Earth's size) or as big as Jupiter (318 times bigger than Earth). A smaller planet with lower gravity would disperse gases into space and therefore would have no atmosphere. A bigger planet would keep all the gases within the atmosphere, including poisonous gases, due to its high gravity. Furthermore, the Earth would be uninhabitable due to high atmospheric pressure and density. The fact that carbon dioxide and water molecules are scattered throughout the air in sufficient amounts means that they absorb heat from the sunlight during the daytime, thanks to their highly absorbent potential. At night, when there is no sunlight at all, the air keeps the previously absorbed heat in, just like a greenhouse, preventing it from being released into cold space. During the day, the atmosphere serves as a curtain protecting the world from the harmful effects of the rays of the sun; at night, it serves as a blanket preserving the heat. Devoid of such a protective shield, the moon is scorched by the rays of the sun during the day and it freezes at night.

Do we owe the small difference in temperature between day and night only to the gases in the atmosphere, which function like a thermos flask? Of course not! We can observe that the time span (24 hours) in which our world completes its rotation is so perfectly adjusted that the difference in heat is kept at a minimum. If the nights were longer, the Earth would get too cold; if the days were longer, it would become too hot. Mercury, rotating very slowly, is a good example, the heat difference between day and night can reach up to 1,000 degrees.

Seas constitute one of the systems which help to adjust the climate. At first, we may find it strange that seas cover a far greater area than land. We have named the planet that plays host to us "the Earth". The word "earth" also means soil. However, most of the Earth's surface (70%) is covered by water, not soil. Thanks to this reality, neither polar cold, nor boiling tropical heat prevails on our planet. The land, which is heated by the rays of the sun during the day, radiates the heat it has absorbed, just like a radiator. As for the sea, which is a huge mass of water, it only warms up a few degrees, despite the millions of solar calories it takes in. Nevertheless, once it warms up, it does not grow cold easily. The oceans, which cover a larger area than land, supply water to the land through evaporation, as well as serving as a thermostat that regulates the climate and prevents it from becoming too hot or cold. If the oceans were to occupy a smaller area, there would be less evaporation and less precipitation; the land would turn to desert.

The air that is heated by the sun rises to be replaced by cold air. In this way, low pressure centers appear where there is hot weather and high pressure centers appear where there is cold weather.

The tilting axis of the Earth plays a significant role in keeping the average heat within tolerable limits. On the other hand, the way the mountain ranges are arranged and the 100 difference in temperature between the equatorial and polar regions lead to the creation of winds. If such a heat difference were to appear on a planet that had an even surface, nothing would stand in the way of the storms, and they would reach a speed up to 600mph. The Earth however, is provided with natural barriers that block powerful air currents. These barriers begin at the Himalayas and continue as mountain ranges through the Taurus Mountains and the Alps, ending with the Atlantic Ocean in the west and the Pacific in the east. Another mechanism that helps regulate the heat in the atmosphere is that of the ocean streams. Overheating generated in the equatorial region is transferred to the north and south by the ocean streams, balancing the heat in different parts of the world.

This is not the only way in which the Exalted Creator Who has absolute control over the systems balancing the heat in the atmosphere manifests His Power. He assigned the clouds a similar job. Hot weather causes evaporation, which leads to formation of clouds. Clouds prevent some of the sunlight from reaching the Earth, reflecting it like a mirror.

THE PROPORTION OF GASES

The atmosphere consists of approximately 77% nitrogen, 21% oxygen, and 1% argon and other gases. The majority of living organisms, including human beings have been created with a metabolism that needs oxygen. When carbon compounds react with oxygen, the outcome is energy, with by-products being water and carbon dioxide. When such a reaction takes place in our body, the energy obtained is transferred to the energy packs (tiny accumulators) called ATP, which we use in our cells. Since all metabolic activities require ATP energy, we constantly need oxygen and this need is met through respiration.

Given that oxygen is a vital substance for us, we might think that it would be better for us if there were more oxygen in the atmosphere. Fortunately, our Lord did not create the universe in accordance with such simple logic. It is estimated that every oxygen increase of 1% over a level of 21% will also increase the possibility of forest fires by 70%, owing to the high inflammability of oxygen. An oxygen rate over 25% would cause the majority of our greenery to be burned to ashes. All the tropical forests and arctic tundra would be destroyed and it would be impossible to prevent great fires. This all goes to demonstrate that the present oxygen rate in the atmosphere is at equilibrium.

In spite of constant consumption, the rate of oxygen and carbon dioxide in the atmosphere is maintained thanks to a wonderful transformative mechanism which runs smoothly without failure (that is if we do not damage it). While animals consume oxygen, they continually release carbon dioxide into the atmosphere; carbon dioxide is a poisonous gas for animal life. Plants however, perform just the opposite activity, transforming carbon dioxide into oxygen, and producing nutrients as well, the most common being sugar. In this way, billions of tons of oxygen are produced and released into the air everyday.

What if plants, like animals, were to carry out the same reaction, consuming oxygen and releasing carbon dioxide? In a short time, our planet would turn into an uninhabitable place. We would use up the oxygen in the atmosphere in a short time and all life forms would be eradicated. And how about a world where both animals and plants produce oxygen? The atmosphere would have such a flammable quality that even the tiniest spark would cause great fires.

Like the other gases in the atmosphere, oxygen is kept at an ideal rate, its benefit and harm being precisely balanced. This is nothing more than the result of a perfect adjustment made by 'Him'. There can be no coincidence in such splendidly created systems and nor can these things happen on their own.

A BREATH OF AIR

The fact that the density of the atmosphere is ideal for respiration also indicates the impossibility of 'coincidence' in this delicate arrangement. No matter whether we feel it or not, we continue breathing every moment of our life.

We constantly inhale and exhale the air. The reason why we need to breathe so much is that there are billions of biochemical reactions taking place in our body all the time which can only be realized with oxygen. Oxygen is even helping you to read this article, for the millions of cells in your retina need to be supplied with oxygen. If the oxygen rate in your blood decreases, your vision blurs. All the cells that make up the muscles in our body have energy generating centers which function by burning carbon; in other words, they react with oxygen.

When we inhale, nearly 300 million tiny spherical bags (alveols) are filled with high-pressure oxygen. The oxygen in the capillaries that cover the cell walls is reduced and then is at a low pressure. This allows the oxygen in the air to be absorbed by the capillaries and to be carried away by the hemoglobin found in the red blood cells - the magnificent servants of our body. Then it begins to serve our entire body, starting with the heart.

The red blood cells which travel to the lungs from different parts of the body carry oxygen from the lungs to the energy centers of the cells and they carry the waste material - carbon dioxide - back again to the lungs. In this process, clean air (with oxygen) is inhaled and is exhaled with carbon dioxide. Obviously, both inhalation and exhalation are vital functions for which we should be thankful. The words we utter can be considered the fruit of the carbon dioxide we exhale. On the other hand, this waste gas is recycled into oxygen and sugar by plants.

The fact that 300 million tiny bags in our lungs have been constructed to fit into a limited area clearly indicates God's infinite knowledge and the fact that He is Omniscient. If these were to be spread out over the ground, they would cover an area as big as a tennis court. They should, logically, require a gigantic organ to carry them; think about how we would carry this organ around with us...

In spite of being so tiny, the alveols and alveolar tubes in our lungs are large enough to let air move freely, which is another sign reflecting His wisdom.

The atmospheric pressure at sea level is 1 atm. This means that 1 kilogram of pressure is applied over a square centimeter, an area that is only as large as the tip of one's finger. At sea level, 1 liter of air weighs 1 gram. As it is seen, the air has an immense pressure, in spite of its lightness.

The fluidity of air is fifty times greater than that of water. As a matter of fact, these values are very accurate and the fact that they are so is critical for our life. If the density of the atmosphere were to be slightly increased, breathing would become as difficult as sucking honey through a straw. Do not even think of saying "make the straw wider", i.e, making the alveolar tubes in our lungs wider. In such a case, the area contacting the air would be diminished and the lungs would be unable to receive a sufficient amount of oxygen to meet the needs of our body. The resistance of the air would be too great and it would be impossible to design a respiratory system capable of supplying the oxygen we need.

Several conditions that make life possible are only realized at certain values, and the atmosphere possesses precisely all of these values. All these only go to show how delicate His adjustments are.

What if the atmospheric pressure was lower, for instance, just 20% lower than it is at present? Given that the conditions of evaporation and boiling depend on the air pressure, more water would evaporate from the oceans and eventually the high humidity of the atmosphere would create a greenhouse effect on the Earth. In other words, there would be excessive heat in the world. And if the atmospheric pressure was twice as great, the humidity would be so low that there would be terrible drought, turning almost all of the land into desert.

Several conditions that make life possible are only realized at certain values, and the atmosphere possesses precisely all of them.

WHO ARE ALL THESE THINGS BALANCED FOR?

The air that is in front of our nose, ready to be of use to us, the ground under our feet, the night and day that follow one another in succession... the sun, the honey bee covering miles for us... When we contemplate all these, we realize that all their activities are directed to serve us.

The beings in this universe do not serve us from their own free will. It is crystal clear that all things point to a Creator Who takes care of us.

Our Creator has bestowed us with ears, providing the world of sounds for us. He has created a brain in our skull, a heart in our chest and a tongue in our mouth; these serve as devices by which we sense and appreciate His blessings that overflow from His treasures of Mercy. He has presented various fragrances, tastes and colors for our senses; He has created numerous species in order to help such devices fulfill their true duty. Only the atmosphere and what it covers will suffice as signs that indicate the ultimate truth. Study the following Qur'anic verse, that reminds us of the divine grace: "And He subjected to you what is in the heavens and the earth all together, (as a grace) from Him." The rest of the verse counsels us to reflect: "There are in that signs for a people who reflect." (45:13)

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notesfromthefielddesk · 4 years ago

Text

Episode 1 - Malinowski

Episode link; https://open.spotify.com/episode/6nIUBg5IthVY6F1caobf1N?si=04759ed73f474e39

We hear the fizz of the surf and some seagulls

John

Imagine yourself set down surrounded by all your gear alone on a tropical beach, close to a native village, while the dinghy which brought you sails away out of sight.

Now imagine, you look down that beach and see a man. He’s sat behind a desk wearing a tweed suit. Is that a microphone? You head over to investigate and realise he is narrating your actions.

Hi! this is notes from the field desk.

Theme

John

Why don’t you grab a seat… I guess on the sand. I’d offer you a chair but honestly getting this one here was hard enough. It’s a good one though, one of those ones with lumbar support. I insisted on it.

I said “if i’m going to sit behind a desk on a tropical beach for months you better believe i’m having lumbar support.” The guys on the fishing boat were not impressed. You should have seen their faces when they saw the desk.

Oh.. I seem to be sinking in the sand a little, would you mind, yeah if you just grab the other side. (Skuffling) Okay should be good now.

Transport and sinking aside it’s a pretty good office though right? I know you can see it but do you mind if I just describe for the benefit of the tape?

I am sat on Maliu Island just off the coast of Papua New Guinea. We’re at the North West Shoreline. It’s early morning the sun still rising. Looking out over the bay the lightly rippled sea shimmers in a thousand tints caught briefly on it’s continuously moving surface. In shallow spots amid turquoise vegetation, you see rich purple stones overgrown with weeds. Where the water is smooth unruffled by wind the sky and land are reflected in colours ranging from sapphire to the milky pink shadows of the mist enveloped coastline.

brief silence just washing of waves

John

I know what you’re thinking. Why the desk? I actually think this is a stroke of genius. I was talking to my supervisor, Susan, and she told me theres a debate in anthropology about the separation between field and desk.

You know anthropology? We’re like sociologists who like travel and hate maths.

Just so you know in academic circles that joke kills.

Anyway, apparently theres loads of articles about how anthropologists go to the field and they meet all people. Then they go back to their desks, in the universities and libraries and whatever. And then they write things that don’t relate to the people. Which makes going pointless in the first place. At least I think that’s what they were getting at, I sort of skimmed them, and they seemed to fit with this other idea of mine so… Sort of just ran with it.

My main idea, was that i’d recreate the research of the first anthropologist. Sort of a peer review, what did he get right, what did he get wrong. So i’m recreating “Argonauts of the Western Pacific” By Malinowski.

There were others before him, some old english blokes called Taylor and Frazer. Some people even say this Greek fella Herodetus was the first. But Malinowski was the first one to get the travel bit down. Before him most of these guys relied on reports they got from colonial officers or missionaries or even worse amateurs, usually wealthy people, running around writing nonsense.

Nowadays we’d call Taylor or Fraser armchair anthropologists. Taking the observations done by others and theorising about it. AKA philosophers, am I right?

Not a joke fan, noted.

Malinowski thought that the studies done before him were theoretically strong but the data unscientifically gathered. To successfully study the “other” you had to go and live with them see the world through their eyes. If you lived with them and participated in their community you could make objective observations about how their society worked. He said this becoming native was key and to achieve it you have to stay in the field for at least a year.

So the problem of early anthropology was people not leaving their desks to collect data, and the problem of modern anthropology is people leaving for the desk and forgetting the field. I thought two birds, one stone. I’ll bring the desk to the field.

(Disappointed) Oh. You were wondering about the tweed on a tropical island. Well in scientific study you control the variables right? If I want to see the Trobriand Islands like Malinowski did I need to recreate his experience. He was a posho, and in the photos he wore this weird colonial outfit which I couldn’t find but I figured this would work just as well.

Same deal with my travel route. I flew to Brisbane, not clear how he got there but we will say Brisbane was the starting point. I sailed up the coast from there to Cairns. From there I chartered a boat to Papua New Guinea. I’m not really a big boat guy and it was a lot longer than I expected so I was sick most of the way. But good news, so was Malinowski so we’ll count that as scientific accuracy.

We arrived pretty late at Port Moresby, the capital of Papua New Guinea. Malinowski doesn’t describe it but to be honest, I was a bit disappointed. It’s a massive city. I was sort of hoping to be far flung you know, cut off from civilisation the way Malinowski says you should be. I knew this was a risk though, in the intro to Argonauts Malinowski mentions that even back then in 1915 Native communities were melting away.

I tried to put my disappointment aside. After all, this wasn’t my final destination. And hey look at this, pretty cut off right? I took a car the following morning down the coast to Deba, I know that’s not how he would have done it but I couldn’t find a boat willing to take my desk. At Deba, I managed to bribe my way onto a fishing boat. Now here I am.

I know it’s not really the Trobriand Islands. But Malinowski hung around here and Moresby for a while and with the desk this is as far as I can get. I have now, in the words of Malinowski “spread my nets in the correct place” now it’s time to wait and see what falls into them.

Waves washing on the shore. Drag this out 10-15 seconds, see how it feels in the edit.

John

Seems like no-one coming. So Let’s go over some theory in the mean time. Don’t whine we’ll keep it light. You can paddle while I talk it’s mostly for my notes anyway.

Sound of someone paddling in sea

Malinowski was a functionalist, which means he thought all our social behaviour is an extension of our physical needs. He argued that thinking about it this way you could understand any behaviour, however strange, by understanding what need it filled.

Example, magic, weird right? Malinowski said no. It’s a response to emotional distress. When something bad happens that you can’t explain it’s comforting to fill that void of understanding, with Magic. Malinowski says that’s why magic persists in modern society. Like when you have a shit month and say it’s because mercury is in retrograde, it’s comforting even if you don’t fully believe it.

But this doesn’t just happen after the fact, participating in magic can make us feel like we’re in control of the future, which is strange and scary. That’s like saying “Next month Mercury is in retrograde get the incense ready.”

Remember that guy Frazer I talked about earlier? This is basically his theory of magic and religion. He said people realise they aren’t powerful enough to control nature so they ask higher powers to help. Malinowski loved Frazer, total fan boy, used to carry his book around, so it’s not surprising he borrows a lot of his ideas.

That other guy, Taylor, he would say we’ve advanced as a society beyond the need for magic. Through industrialisation we can control nature. Any magical belief left over in society was a “survival.” It used to serve a useful function in society but now it doesn’t, it’s just a silly ornament that we should throw out. Imagine a twitter atheist bro, “uhh horoscopes are stupid, haven’t you heard of this thing called science.”

Malinowski, not so much a fan of Taylor. He said no Taylor you dummy, society is functional. How can there be a social behaviour that doesn’t have a function. Doesn’t make sense. He said the function probably just changed to serve a different purpose.

Despite that little spat, they all basically agreed in an evolutionary perspective. That less advanced societies are what our society looked like in the past. By studying other people maybe it can help us understand the weird things we do now.

So i’m here to take an objective look at Malinowski’s objective look. A hundred years ago he was on the Trobriand Islands, so now they should look like the UK did in 1920. I suppose that big city at Port Moresby was a good sign they were right.

Oh shit, I’m actually late to teach my tutorial. Just gunna Skype in. In the mean time i’ll leave you with a recording of a passage from “Argonauts of the Western Pacific.”

Waves washing on shore maybe ten seconds

“The goal is, briefly, to grasp the native’s point of view, his relation to life, to realise his vision of his world. We have to study man, and we must study what concerns him most intimately, that is, the hold which life has on him. In each culture, the values are slightly different; people aspire after different aims, follow different impulses, yearn after a different form of happiness. In each culture, we find different institutions in which man pursues his life-interest, different customs by which he satisfies his aspirations, different codes of law and morality which reward his virtues or punish his defections. To study the institutions, customs, and codes without understanding the desires and feelings of these people is, in my opinion, to miss the greatest reward which we can hope to obtain from the study of man.

These generalities the reader will find illustrated in the following chapters. We shall see there the savage striving to satisfy certain aspirations, to attain his type of value, to follow his line of social ambition. We shall see him led on to perilous and difficult enterprises by a tradition of magical and heroical exploits, shall see him following the lure of his own romance. Perhaps as we read the account of these remote customs there may emerge a feeling of solidarity with the endeavours and ambitions of these natives. Perhaps man’s mentality will be revealed to us, and brought near, along some lines which we never have followed before. Perhaps through realising human nature in a shape very distant and foreign to us, we shall have some light shed on our own. In this, and in this case only, we shall be justified in feeling that it has been worth our while to understand these natives, their institutions and customs.”

Waves washing on shore for maybe ten seconds

John

Well…that was… an interesting tutorial. In the end we talked a lot about Malinowski’s diaries rather than argonauts. They were published in 1967, a while after he died. In part probably to protect his reputation, as it turns out. To be honest, I hadn’t read them in depth. But my students said they show he was kind of a racist. More like he was a racist, throughout. He curses the Trobriand Islanders, calls them lazy and stupid. Also it seems like all through his research he was bribing the islanders with tobacco to include him, and dance, or do magic. It all comes across… unscientific.

But I said to them, this is just his diary, his private thoughts. I’m sure, when he went to the field he was able to set his personal prejudice to the side and carry out good research.

They didn’t agree. First they said, objectivity wasn’t possible because people know their being watched and that changes things. They gave the example

From of a photo from Argonauts of the Western Pacific with the caption “A Ceremonial Act of the Kula." A shell necklace is being offered to a Trobriand chief. Behind the guy presenting the necklace is a row of six bowing boys, one of them sounding a conch. All the figures stand in profile, their attention apparently concentrated on the rite of exchange. But if you look again, you see one of the bowing Trobrianders is looking at the camera.

To be honest when you look at the other pictures, Malinowski does look awkwardly out of place. Hardly, a member of the community. And Malinowski definitely skewed the results with the bribes.

Sorry, the tide is coming in and the waves are now washing onto my brogues. Would you mind helping me shift the desk a bit further up the beach.

General awkward moving the desk sounds.

Sorry where was I? Right, secondly, they said Malinowski was wrong. Those colonial officers and missionaries, it wasn’t that they couldn’t be objective because they weren’t scientists. But because nobody is objective, we’ve all got baggage, things that have happened to us that make us think a certain way.

He couldn’t just leave his racism in the diary because it effected the way he thought about everything. They said when you claim something is objectively true you’re really making a claim about authority.

Remember, before, how we were talking about the evolutionary stuff. They said that is based on the assumption that European civilisation was the peak of human society and everything else is on the same track to becoming that.

They said that’s what colonialism was, British people going around the world claiming they were the height of civilisation so they should be in charge. By being in charge they’d make them better. They called that “The White Mans Burden.” Not the students, the colonial officers. What Malinowkski’s diary proved was that he was just as prejudiced, just as guilty of this way of thinking. He saw them as savages and backwards, less evolved. and that wasn’t just a private opinion, that formed the basis of his theories.

I said, wasn’t that just cancel culture?

They groaned at that. One of them said really cancelling someone was just challenging the authority of their statements and actions. When Malinowski was “cancelled” it challenged the authority of colonial racism. Even if he only thought in private that the Trobriand Islanders were lesser it still effected how he treated them and described them. The same way it effected British colonial officers descriptions and treatment those they ruled.

That’s why anthropology is suspicious of objectivity, because objectivity is a claim to authority and authority leads to misrepresentation and mistreatment. In other words, arriving as an anthropologist and claiming to be able to see someone else society objectively is like saying “I’m big your small, I’m smart, you’re dumb and there is nothing you can do about it.”

They stumped me a bit at the end there, couldn’t really follow, but I did feel hurt. I said “if that’s all true and I’m replicating his work then how am I different from Malinowski. Am I a racist?” It got a bit awkward after that.

Still, I think there is some merit in what I’m doing. I’m not a racist. So I can asses Malinowski’s work, see the flaws. Societies still advance so, i’ll just see how things have changed, have they become like us? I told them I would carry on and prove I could be objective.

Anyway a lot to think about. [Phone ring]

John

Apparently, the students have complained. And Susan has reminded me that my contract requires I teach the tutorials in person. That this fieldwork was not cleared and that I have not done an ethics form. Further, she reminded me that the department does not subscribe to a teleological perspective. I asked what that meant and she said to do some fucking reading for once.

Still, Malinowski teaches us a lot. Fieldwork is still really important in anthropology, you’ve got to go and talk to people and understand their perspectives. That’s his lasting legacy more than the theoretical work. Plus, I suppose his diary teaches us that we should keep an eye on our assumptions. And remember that no matter what we do, like bring a desk to the field, we always sneak into our work. So maybe we should just be upfront about that.

So - would you mind helping to carry this desk to that village? I need to get back or i’ll get fired.

more desk moving noises

I just realised I never asked what you were doing here.

Really!? that’s disgrace-

Theme

This was notes from the field desk written by me John McGrail.

This episode references

Clifford, John (1983) On Ethnographic Authority in Representations, No. 2 (Spring, 1983)

Dahl, Roald (1988) Matilda published by Jonathan Cape

Malinowski, Bronislaw (1922) Argonauts of the Western Pacific Routledge

Malinowski, Bronislaw (1948) Magic, Science and Religion Waveland Press

Malinowski, Bronislaw (1967) with introduction by Firth, Raymond (1989) A Diary in the Strict Sense of the Term Stanford University Press

Tylor, Edward Burnett (1871) Primitive Culture published by the Cambridge University Press

Young, Michael W. (2004) Malinowski: Odyssey of an Anthropologist 1884-1920 Yale University Press

The sounds were all taken from Freesound. If you can donate to them you totally should, I would not have been able to make this podcast without it.

The sounds were;

Water Lap by snog https://freesound.org/people/snog/sounds/67031/

Sand slidding out of shovel slowly by XfiXy8 https://freesound.org/people/XfiXy8/sounds/467301/

Tropical Ocean Waves » Mau U Mae Beach Waves by tombenedict https://freesound.org/people/tombenedict/sounds/397594/?page=2#comment

Tropical Island by rich wise https://freesound.org/people/richwise/sounds/451743/

The theme music was dark side of my students, posted by Mia Stodzwiekow created by Tadeusz Maszewski https://freesound.org/people/miastodzwiekow/sounds/341770/

#podcast #anthropology #arts and entertainment #culture #society #transcript #audiodrama

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riathedreamer · 5 years ago

Text

So, I talked about “File Not Found” which was a fic @creatrixanimi and I planned, what, three years ago, but was eventually abandoned. I realized I actually had the first chapter ready, written such a long time ago, and while the story won’t be continued, I might as well share it with you here on tumblr instead of just letting it rot in my folder. Here you go.

File Not Found

Sole Survivor

”That’s not how it works.”

“Pfft. It’s totally how it works.”

The scene was so familiar at this point. The two of them were standing on a ledge, staring at Chorus’ tropical landscape below. Maybe the one change was the fact they were no longer holding onto a rifle. With the newly achieved peace, weapons were no longer needed, and they could enjoy the view of the sun rising above the treetops unarmed.

“You are comparing a bite with a phobia. Just what is the connection between those two?!”

“Batman. Spiderman. Animal plus man equals superhero.”

“Okay,” Simmons admitted gingerly, “but what about the superpowers? Batman doesn’t have any. Spiderman got his from the bite of a radioactive spider. Batman just had a phobia of bats.”

Grif snorted as a slightly offended look snuck its way to his usual bored expression. “Well, maybe he got bit by a bat! Maybe that’s why he has the phobia!”

“That does not make the bat radioactive!”

“It’s a bat, Simmons. It doesn’t need radioactivity – it’s already fucking terrifying!”

They had reached that point of the argument where Simmons would throw his hands in the air. “Batman does not have superpower! He chose his name after his chiroptophobia!”

“So what. Chirowhatevername is cool!”

“Just because you are afraid of bats as well it does not make the phobia cool,” Simmons let him know.

Grif crossed his arms. “Cooler than your snakophobia.”

“Ophidiophobia.”

“Holy crap, how did your tongue not cramp up?” When Grif’s question was answered with a light shrug, he continued, “Whatever. My point still is – Batman and Spiderman are the same shit. You have the recipe for a cool superhero right there. Take an animal and add man to the end of the word.”

Simmons had opened his mouth with the argument against that statement ready on his tongue, but before he could utter a word, Donut seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

The pink soldier gasped in excitement. “So if you take the most dangerous animal on Earth, you get the toughest superhero!” He spread out his arms for the dramatic introduction. “Mosquitoman. When he first starts sucking, men will fall to their knees before him!”

“Nope, this conversation is over. Donut ruined it.” Grif groaned and looked up at the sky that had changed from red to blue as the sun rose. Somewhere back in the headquarters, Sarge must be going through his daily round of disappointment as not even the sky would cheer for their team.

But Donut’s interruption had managed to direct the conversation towards something Grif was not ready to discuss (Mosquitoman’s sucking abilities had to wait for another day - where Grif preferably was not present) and that was a problem bigger than it would seem like.

It was important to keep the dialogue flowing. A statement from Grif, then Simmons would disagree, and so they were kept busy with light-hearted bickering. Grif even had a mental list of possible subjects ready (ukulele versus guitar where ukulele would obviously win - did the fruit pie or the meat pie come first - since this place was called Chorus was there a planet called Verse).

It was rather uncharacteristic for Grif to be so well prepared since it was usually Simmons who would worry himself sick over future scenarios that only might happen. But the bickering was necessary now since it kept them from talking about certain subjects that had appeared when a certain someone had shoved his stupid thing inside a place where it never should have been.

Just to clarify: stupid Tucker had stuck his stupid sword inside the stupid temple, and suddenly Grif and Simmons had been stuck in a too hot closet and some stuff had happened that should never ever be brought up again unless you truly wanted Simmons to swallow his own tongue in pure bewilderment.

The bickering was familiar and required little to no effort since it was almost a bit too easy to make Simmons frown and argue against his points. It was a nice little dance between those two, steps well-known after years of practice. Nothing like Simmons on an actual dance floor which was just a disaster waiting to happen.

“Ugh, Donut.” Simmons’ tone revealed he was just as disappointed with the interruption. “Didn’t you say you would stay and help the Lieutenants?”

“They’re doing fine! Well, either they are planting the trees or they are feeding the birds, but either way helps the wildlife!” With the war finally done, it was time for the planet to heal. That meant rebuilding since humans had a habit of fucking up stuff and so they had to make up for that destruction at some point.

Actual functional cities were starting to appear, people were slowly starting to take off their helmets every once in a while, revealing too young faces with too many scars, and an odd sense of peace was finally beginning to settle. It had taken a while since the Temple Party had stirred up the planet (in a much happier way than a war, at least) and then the reporters had shown up like too many annoying flies on the cadaver called the fall of Hargrove.

“But Kimball said she needed you two back at the headquarters and since you two weren’t wearing your helmets, I of course had to intervene.”

They could feel Donut winking at them through his visor, and it was rather clear that he had his own imaginations of why they had felt the need to take off their helmets on their break. Not that it mattered since they knew the truth; Grif had taken off his to smoke, and Simmons had mirrored the action to reveal his very dissatisfied frown at the sight of the cigarette.

“What now?” Grif groaned at the same time that Simmons worriedly asked, “Has something happened?”

“A new ship landed,” Donut revealed with excitement in his voice.

Grif could not relate. He groaned for the second time within a minute - Donut had the ability to make people moan like that, and oh god that was a thought Grif immediately regretted due to poor wording. “Is it another reporter?” he asked. “Why are they all asking the same stupid questions?! Why the fuck don’t they just steal each other’s work or just make up something? Way easier.”

The swarm of reporters had actually grown to the point where Kimball had talked about relocating them. Which Grif might not disagree on if it could give them some well-deserved peace. He was tired of answering questions over and over, where most of his answers would be “no comments”.

“Kimball says this person is… different.” For dramatic effect, Donut could not help but spread out his fingers in a weak attempt of jazz hands.

Simmons tilted his head. “Different?” And Grif had to resist to moan again. Different was not good unless different meant someone giving them a free vacation to Hawaii or decided to thank them with a supply of snack cakes instead of those meaningless handshakes and empty words about how much their work meant to the rest of the galaxy.

“Maybe the reporter is from Vogue!” Donut suggested with too much hope in his voice. “That would certainly be much more interesting.”

To be honest Grif would probably rather deal with the normal news reporters than someone from a fashion magazine. It was tempting to stay away, but if Kimball was this firm about them facing a newcomer it would mean they would have to show up eventually; if not by their own choice, then one of the Freelancers would track them down and drag them back by the ear.

And Simmons had already picked up his helmet, back turned towards the ledge as he was already lifted his foot to march back to base. “Fine,” Grif said and shoved his own helmet over his head, his HUD revealing the missed radio calls from Donut he would not have answered anyway. “But if someone asks me again what our plans are for the future, I’ll tell them it involves dead journalists.”

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Carolina let them know in a tone that made Simmons flinch.

But before the maroon soldier could actually apologize, Grif leaned his head back and whined, “Why did you not start without us?” The less bullshit he had to deal with the better.

“Because she is asking for you,” Kimball told him in a matter-of-fact voice, and despite the fact that she was looking directly at Grif it took him a few seconds before he realized she was indeed referring to him. He could not help but frown though his helmet hid his confusion.

Apparently, he was not the only one shocked by Kimball’s statement as Tucker blurted out, “Grif? What the fuck do they want with him?” He sounded both surprised and dumbfounded but there was also the tiny hint of jealousy in his tone that made Grif narrow his eyes in annoyance.

The entire gang had gathered in the waiting hall in front of Kimball’s office, and at Tucker’s words, they all seemed to shift awkwardly, making it clear that they were all thinking the same question.

“Maybe they wanted a Red to have the spotlight!” Donut suggested carefully, but there was still the slight undertone that he would have been ready to sign up for the task at any time.

Tucker snorted. “Then why pick the orange one?”

“Tucker.” Carolina sent him a warning when the conversation just dragged out without getting closer to give them an answer.

“Hey, no offense, but it just does not work with the pictures. Myself on the other hand…” A true feeling of humor was lacking from Tucker, proving that his stupid jokes mostly served as a distraction to not talk about all the sore subjects that were lying just beneath the surface. There had been a lot of weak jokes since the battle against Hargrove...

“You like playing model, we get it.” Carolina turned her head towards Kimball. “But you said this was not a reporter.”

When Simmons finally spoke, he was wringing his hands. “Then what do they want with Grif?” He glanced briefly towards said teammate before focusing on the general again.

“They didn’t say. Yet. They would not reveal much detail before you were present.”

“Am I in trouble?” Grif asked because, honestly, that was his biggest worry at the moment. Most of the time he would be called to an office by name the whole thing would end with dish duty, and he had better ways to spend his evening. Especially now when Simmons had brought up another Star Wars marathon.

“Always,” Sarge let him know with a huff. “Constant disappointment requires constant punishment. What did he do this time?”

“How about we actually face this reporter and listen to what they have to say?” Wash suggested, and no one could really disagree with that.

One question kept bothering Grif. “If they just want me why the fuck are you assholes all here?”

“‘cause since when have we given a shit about personal privacy?” Tucker asked sarcastically.

Caboose made a disapproving sound. “Ah, except Tucker’s magazines. Always stay away from those.”

“That’s right, Caboose, and don’t you ever fucking dare.”

Kimball let out a quiet sigh at this point and turned around to enter the office, gesturing for them to follow. As the group slowly began to move forward, Grif and Simmons shared a glance. Not knowing how to answer, he just shrugged despite being aware it would not exactly calm his teammate’s anxiety about the whole thing.

But there was only one way to gain the answers they wanted and that was by stepping into the room, pushing themselves through the crowd of colorful soldiers that had gathered, and when Grif was finally in the front, facing this strange investigator turned out to be rather anti-climatic.

When a mysterious stranger asks for you by name, Grif had expected troubles. An intimidating presence, probably a mean stare, definitely some sort of superior who was not a fan of positive words.

But when Grif saw the newcomer, the first thought that hit him was: whose grandma is this? That was perhaps a rather quick judgment but since this planet was mainly inhabited by battle-scarred teenagers, this investigator definitely belonged in the older end, with her grey hair and wrinkles. Though, her furrowed forehead could probably from stressful work through the years.

While she seemed far from fragile - no shaking limbs since she was able to rise from her chair in a swift and elegant movement - she did not seem like a soldier. Her rather stern expression - thin mouth and focused eyes - reminded him of the some of the UNSC staff he had met back when he had been drafted, one of those ladies behind the desk who was spending half of her life reading paperwork.

When her dark, almond-shaped eyes settled on him, the corner of her lips turned upwards in a polite, satisfied smile. Judging from the half-empty cup of tea on the table, Kimball had let her wait for some time.

“Heroes of Chorus,” she said as she greeted them with a short bow. “I’m honored to be here.”

“We still haven’t been informed of why you are here,” Carolina reminded her, keeping her voice just gentle enough to keep the statement from being rude.

“My apologies. But I had preferred to keep some details confidential.” Sensing that confession did not exactly help with the tension in the room, she added, “My name is Marisol Rizal and I am currently running an independent investigation of the Uplora massacre. Which is why I requested to speak with Captain Dexter Grif.”

As soon as she finished speaking, three words were exclaimed at once.

“Uplora?”

“Grif?”

“Hi.”

It was Wash, Simmons and Caboose that had spoken - in that order.

She briefly smiled at Caboose’s greeting, but then set her eyes on Grif again. The orange soldier had gone completely still, stiff as a statue, and Simmons had turned his head to stare at him.

In truth, every single person in the room was staring at Grif who was a little bit too busy dealing with the invisible punch to the stomach which the investigator’s words had caused. He was suddenly grateful that he had put back on his helmet before meeting up with the others - despite the secret pride of his poker face abilities, he doubted he had been able to keep his expression neutral when he had been granted this piece of information.

Kimball was the first to direct the attention back at Rizal. “And what do you require from him?”

“An interview, first of all. And I have managed to uncover some evidence I would like to hear his thoughts on. The entire business should take less than a day.”

“A day?” Carolina repeated, and Grif understood the confusion - none of the earlier reporters had requested more than a few hours from them, and they had been lucky if they had granted them the time.

“I-” She seemed to search for the right words for a moment, eyes darting around before settling on Grif again. “From what I’ve gathered from the previous reports, I understand that you prefer to keep quiet about the experience. I can explain further under two eyes if that is what you want.”

Grif blinked, slowly understanding that this was a question directed towards him and that they actually demanded answers. Too bad his mind was still stuck in oh shit-mode and scrambling a simple sentence together proved to be quite the task. “Uh…”

“Wait, what the fuck is Uplora?” Tucker kept turning his head to look from Grif to Rizal, waiting for one of them to give him an answer.

His question made Grif’s stomach twist itself again, and it was that dreadful feeling that finally allowed him to speak. “Not really a fan of interviews. So, I’ll pass.”

“It’s important,” Rizal insisted. When Kimball looked like she was about to speak again, she quickly added, “I understand you want this business over with as quickly as possible, which is why I decided to seek you out first. Please. I am first of all doing this for the ones who lost someone dear in the massacre, and reading your profile I believed you would be interested in-”

“Massacre?” Donut gasped. “That doesn’t sound-”

“Look, just-” Grif held up his hands, feeling an unfamiliar and unwelcome panic traveling up his spine. “Fuck. Fine. Five minutes, but two eyes and all that. So fuck off,” he told his friends. Perhaps it came out rather harsh but honestly, the only reason he agreed to this talk with a reporter was the make sure they were not told shit.

He has resisted the urge to run out of the room, only because he knew that it would leave them alone with this Rizal and he was not counting on her to keep quiet. Just when she had spoken the name, and oh it had been a long time since he had heard someone say it out loud, things had been stirred up.

“Are you sure?” Kimball asked. She almost sounded concerned which just increased Grif’s need to get away from the scene.

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Whatever. It’s fine. Five minutes,” he said again, and Rizal nodded.

“I will explain the situation. You can make your choice about your involvement then.”

The group was slow to leave the room, especially Simmons who had to stare at Grif for four long seconds before finally trudging after the others.

When the door finally slid closed and they were alone, Rizal had already sat down in the chair when Grif turned around. She had folded her hands which were covered by white gloves. They matched the rest of her pale uniform; white with dark green trims, and her neck was surrounded by what seemed to be an uncomfortable stiff and tall collar.

“I am sorry for causing all this. I know it must be unexpected. And unwelcome.”

Grif considered whether to take a seat as well but in the end chose to stand. “Your point?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say much here. But since beginning my investigation I have found remains that will, eventually, stir up attention. By contacting you now I hope to save you from potential troubles later on.” She actually sounded apologetic which reduced Grif’s annoyance, just a little bit.

“Question,” he cut in. “Just what the fuck are you investigating?” The matter had been left behind years ago. They had asked him a lot of questions while he had still been stuck in the hospital, but then they had told him there was nothing more they needed to know. They had declared him fit for duty, shoved a glass of pills into his hand, and the day after he had been dropped off in Blood Gulch.

It had been quiet since then, and Grif had honestly preferred the silence.

“Because,” she said, voice careful and leveled, “I wanted to know the truth. And as I can show you on my ship, I don’t think the previously given details match up.”

“And what does that have to do me?” Grif grunted, losing patience.

She tilted her head slightly. “Because I figured you wanted justice for your dead teammates.”

He was not sure if it was intended to be a low blow, but that was what it felt like. For a brief moment he recalled pale, still faces before he forced the memories away.

“You’ve been through a lot, Captain Grif, and I understand why this is subject you would prefer to avoid. But I am doing this for your sake as well, so you can gain the truth, and so you cannot be lied to once more. I know I am asking for a lot-”

“Just what are you asking for? Some assholes in coats interviewed me back then - can’t you just copy their work? Less effort required and you’ll probably get the same grade. Worked for me in high school.”

To his surprise, she actually laughed softly. “I wish it was that simple. But in order to get my hands on something presentable, I must gather the evidence myself. So here is what I ask from you: you come to my ship, I get to film an interview and I will show you what I have found so far.”

“And just what am I gaining from this?”

“I would point out that you will be doing the right thing, but I understand that is not what you need to hear. You would be gaining my discretion, and it would be the last thing I ask of you. I promise to get this whole thing over with as quickly as possible, and as comfortable for you as I can manage.”

Her last arguments were definitely more convincing than her moral reasoning. The part that Grif found most compelling was the mention of her ship. Right now he had the growing suspicion that his teammates had their ears pressed against the other side of the door, hoping to gain some more information.

And his friends finding out about his past was the biggest of Grif’s worries right now. The few mentions that Rizan had dropped was bad enough, and Grif knew a storm of questions would hit him the moment he left the room.

At least he could tell them to fuck off and mind their own fucking business. But he had sensed the underlying warning in Rizan’s explanation. If he did not take care of this now, this whole thing could escalate and the last thing he needed was actual reporters on Chorus just to discuss the colony. At least Rizan had offered to keep his friends out of it.

“What would we be discussing?” he asked, trying to sound as casual about it as possible.

“A lot of the questions will be familiar to you since I know the UNSC did make a report after the disaster. I am looking at the entire case from a new angle, so hopefully I can shine lights on parts not explored before.”

He did not want to talk about this whole thing, he did not what to remember what he had spent so many years to forget, but if she just stuck to the same questions like the one the UNSC had asked he could manage. He had done it all before.

“If I go too far, you tell me, and I will drop the subject. I will share what I have found so far, if you want to. I am… deeply invested in coming to the bottom of this. I lost someone dear in the chaos, and I firmly believe that the victims, you included, deserve more than what was done. What little information you can give me would be much appreciated.”

Grif held back a groan as the headache became apparent. This was not how he had planned to spend the day.

And the voice back in the corner of his skull, reminding him of how close Kai had been to become one of those left behind, did not help at all.

“Details about the investigation and its progress must await till we reach space. I am sure you of all will appreciate that we keep things quiet. You would be back by evening, tomorrow morning at the latest. If we board my ship now-”

“Wait, we’re leaving Chorus?” Grif frowned, unsure of what exactly this meant.

Rizan nodded. “I’m afraid that General Kimball and I discovered that Chorus’ political situation is rather fragile at the moment. You have just been put back on the galactic map, and if this planet’s next big stunt is to be directly involved in my investigation, you are only known for rather controversial scandals. Both the General and I agreed it was best to keep Chorus out of this.”

“So… Space?” Grif said rather weakly, unsure of just how to comment on this. He understood Kimball’s choice but on the other hand, it just left him more questions about just what Rizan was trying to discover.

“As close to Chorus as possible. You’ll be back as soon as I’ve gathered what I need.” She smiled again, softly. “I have refreshments ready on my ship. Coffee or tea?”

He answered the joke with an amused huff. He closed his eyes, thankful for how the visor shielded his face. “How about something stronger?”

“A very black coffee then. Does this mean you are willing to help?”

Her hopeful voice almost caused him to groan out loud. It was not like he had a handful of options. There was apparently no way of avoiding this subject being brought up again - now he just had to get it dealt with as quickly as possible.

This was going to be the most dreadful tea party he had ever been invited to.

“And there is no way you won’t just take no as an answer?” He shrugged, not even believing she might give him a pleasant answer.

“To your surprise, I think you might become rather invested in my case once I show you my progress.”

“Yeah… I seriously doubt that.”

“We’ll have to see about that, won’t we?” She winked, apparently deciding the matter was done with. “I’ll exchange contacts with General Kimball so you can be contacted should the need arrive. I would not want to steal one of their beloved Captains.”

Grif snorted. “Beloved is a very strong word. Unless we are speaking about Matthews.”

“I’ll meet you in an hour,” she informed him, cutting to the chase. She definitely seemed like one of the paperwork ladies now.

“Right. And you won’t-”

“I will keep quiet about any details of the massacre. Any. It is rather obvious you want them uninformed about this. I understand.”

Grif searched for something to say, tongue running across dry lips. It would be nice to have the final word in the conversation, mainly to keep up the weak illusion that he actually had a say in all this, but Grif could feel his control over the situation slipping through his fingers. But it seemed like there was not anything to add to what had already been said.

So he turned around, marching out of the room, and when the door slid open he tried not to comment on how his friends seemingly had been leaning against the wall. Tucker almost had to leap backward when Grif did not slow down his steps.

“She wants to talk with you,” he informed Kimball with a shrug before someone else could break the silence.

The questions came immediately afterward. “Dude, what was that about?”

“Sorry,” Grif said without a hint of caring, “confidential knowledge and all that.”

“C’mon. Really?”

Grif continued his way down the pathway, more determined than ever to dodge their question. But Carolina took a step forward, slowing him down just enough for him to hear. “I was not aware you had ties with the Uplora incident.”

At least it was not directly a question. Grif appreciated that.

“Let’s just…” He clenched his hands in frustration. “Not.”

In the corner of the hallway, Donut tilted his head. “Grif-” Simmons was standing quietly next to him.

Knowing he would have to spend the rest of the evening answering questions, Grif decided he needed a break now. He continued to walk away.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Tucker asked, obviously not ready to let go of the newest source of slander.

Grif flipped him off without looking over his shoulder. “Mess hall. It’s lunchtime and I am not letting Bitters steal all the tacos with extra cheese.”

The did not follow him, at least. But he sure as hell heard the hushed muttering among his friends before he finally gained enough distance between them so he could walk in silence.

He did not go to the mess hall. The last thing he needed right now was someone asking for yet another autograph - which meant he had to avoid Gold Team. Matthews had been saving the papers with handwriting, probably hiding them under his pillow or some shit, and Grif had discovered that Bitters was trying to gain a stock of autographs, only so he could sell them to other soldiers for some quick cash. Grif could almost respect that, had the constant requests from his soldiers not been so freaking annoying.

If Bitters truly was smart he would just start writing fake autographs. Much easier and it would increase production. Now Grif just felt a bit disappointed in his Lieutenant.

Grif went to the quarters he and Simmons shared. For a moment he just stood in the middle of the room, wondering what to do next.

Should he pack? Rizan had mentioned he might have to stay overnight and so bringing a toothbrush could be a good idea… Grif nearly burst out laughing, remembering he would never bother to bring a toothbrush around anywhere.

He sat down heavily on his bed, removing his helmet so he could run a hand through his hair.

Grif liked asking questions. Most of his pillow talk with Simmons had started from what if’s, lot of hypothetical scenarios, questions about the mysteries of the universe where he never truly expected a final answer from his teammate.

Switching roles and being forced to answer questions on the other hand…

Most of the UNSC’s questions had been reduced to numbers. Grif could deal with that. Numbers were simple, short answers with no need to dig further into it. When had the attack happened, how many attackers, how many aliens had died, how many of his teammates had died, when did he wake up, how many days until help had arrived…

Numbers. Simple and quick. The answer could be shorted down into one word, minimum effort required. Still annoying as fuck but he could deal with them.

He could not talk his way out of this, no way to change the subject. It was not like the closet accident which he could easily avoid since neither he or Simmons wanted to bring it up.

The first days afterward had been awkward as hell, since Simmons’ face was constantly red, and if Grif as much as said his name he would jump in surprise and his voice would break. Anyone watching must have thought Simmons was trying to cover up a murder with that amount of anxiety.

After they had agreed that the whole thing had never taken place - since that agreement made it easier it easier not to talk about it - things had still been… tense. It was suddenly too easy to make Simmons stutter, too easy to make him blush, too easy to make him storm out of the room, and it all seemed to have lost its amusement value.

Whenever one of them lost their cool, it could take hours before they could begin another normal conversation. When the movie night had been suggested, it had seemed like the first step towards constant normalcy. A casual, not-awkward, comfortable, totally normally friendly friendship movie marathon like they had done so many times before.

They probably had to sit at different ends of the couch, since Simmons still withdrew his hands like if he had been burned every time they accidentally touched but it could still work…

Grif was so busy planning a movie night that was not going to take place that he did not notice when Simmons stepped inside the room. He did, however, become aware of his presence the moment he closed the door - the action was just a bit too forceful than normally.

Simmons placed himself in the opposite end of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.” Grif smacked his lips before readjusting himself so he was lying down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah. Figured.”

Simmons had taken off his helmet, revealing a very deep frown. He seemed to be chewing the inside of his cheek.

Grif could not help but catch the bitterness in his voice. He turned his head so he was staring at him. “What?” he asked with a slight sneer to his voice. He hated when Simmons was acting passive-aggressive. He sucked at it.

“Nothing.” Simmons looked away, slightly lifting his chin.

“Great.”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome.”

There were two seconds of silence and then Simmons started shuffling his feet. “I mean, you have apparently been a part of a big galactic controversy and you never really felt like telling me, despite knowing me for years so…”

Grif sat up, groaning. “Seriously, Simmons?”

“I just thought we had reached that stage where we would tell each other stuff like that.”

“Stage? We are we - in a fucking play?!”

“You know what I mean!” Simmons was sounding flustered again, but this time from annoyance rather than awkwardness. His eyes were narrowed.

“Tough shit, Simmons. I love sharing tragic backstories. I am sure you are all up to talking ‘bout your sweet daddy. It really brightens up the dinner conversations, huh.”

Simmons seemed to choke on air. “At least you know about it,” he muttered. The strength returned to his voice when he started to accuse Grif again. “I had to hear it from an investigator-”

“Why the fuck do you care?”

“Because I should know-”

Grif stood up from the bed, headache stronger than ever. “What the fuck kind of right is that?!”

Simmons inhaled sharply, finally looking directly at Grif’s face. His mouth was twisted in a manner that looked like a painful scowl. His feelings were hurt, and Grif did not want to deal with it. The maroons soldier sighed. “I just thought we were-”

“We were what?” Grif challenged.

Their staring competition lasted for around five seconds. Then Simmons turned his head. “Never mind.”

“Exactly,” Grif agreed but he was not sure if Simmons heard him.

When his teammate slammed the door behind him as he stormed out of the room, Grif could not help but flinch at the sound. He blamed the headache.

#file not found #my rvb fic #grif #simmons #grimmons

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