#sunshine is treating mountain like her claimed land

[forlorn-crows]

mountain & dew's naptime was interrupted

[soleilpirate]

Dragon's Pain

Pain of the Dragons

By Soleil Marie

Merakhagon and Leilani ruled the skies together. They were among the First, six males and six females who hatched together and awoke the world. The First of many who flitted among the clouds and built lavish homes on the mountain tops. Their children had children, and so the seed of the Dragon Mages spread far and wide and had dominion over the earth.

Many lesser creatures thrived under their benevolent rule. Beneath the towering rocky peaks lay lush valleys,fed by sparkling lakes, clear rivers, and streams. Tiny mice scampered and gigantic moose ran throughtout the grassy meadows and verdant forests. All manner of animals in between thrived all over the green land.

There were plenty of sentient life forms as well. Little People thrived and played in the sunshine and burrowed in the hollows of old trees. Each species had very primitive beginnings, and over time they advanced and evolved. As they began to look up, they saw the Dragons. Marveling at the brightness and beauty, they worshipped them as gods.

A dryad creeping curiously a bit further than usual from her tree heard a sudden rush of wind. Looking in the direction of the sound, she gasped to see an irridescent green Dragon extending his clawed feet to the ground as he slowly lowered through the air to land a few feet in front of her. He lesiurely folded his wings as she gasped with shock and dropped to the ground, quivering. How did he do that! the dryad wondered frantically. How did that Mage stay in the air like that? And put his feet on the ground only when he wanted to!

“Do not fear me, Little One,” his throaty voice rumbled. “I am only passing through.” His large, scaled paw gently touched her shoulder. The scales felt rough but did not harm her. His hot breath stirred her hair before he moved away through the trees, wings folded tightly to his back, that he might fit in the smaller spaces.

Birds of all shapes and size flew in the skies just below the Dragons. Because they flew, like the sacred Mages, they were considered holy and blessed. Any bird found injured on the ground – no matter what size and type – was approached reverently and its wounds or sickness treated. No one even dreamed to think they might be for food. And since Dragons had been seen swooping down to eat the birds at times, it only reinforced that these must be meant for the Mages.

In time, a hundred or so years, the worship faded to awed reverence. Many legends were told of the Dragons, often true tales whispered by the winged Mages themselves. Sometimes one of the mighty ones would take the form of some particular race and tell their own stories of great deeds, and teach the history of the world. Sometimes, friendships were forged between a Dragon Mage and some visionary leader from the lesser races. These friendships were lifelong bonds, for the Mages were passionate and strong. They were known to be intensely loyal.

They were also known for the fiery romances among their own kind. One of the most spectacular of these love matches was Merakhagonof the First, and Leilani of the First. He was like a bright red flame, and she was lovely and golden as the sun. He was handsome and virile, and Leilani was breathtakingly beautiful. Others who witnessed the relationship claimed the love and ecstasy was a visible cloud around them.

One particular daughter of one of the First, Ankheliga, tried often to seduce Merakhagon away from his wife. Her shimmering orange scales and limpid blue eyes had enraptured many other Dragons, but she had feelings only for the one she could not have. Merakhagon would have naught to do with any but his golden lady. Thwarted again and again, Ankheliga swore revenge on the female who denied her her heart’s desire.

Eventually she disappeared from the happy couple’s life and they assumed it was over. Many centuries later, there began to be dissention among the Dragons. Some said there was too much going about among the Little People. Other claimed there should in fact be more involvement, that Dragon Mages should guide and teach the lesser races in order to advance them further.

Some of the Mages had a habit of inviting their lifelong friends up on the mountain tops, to live and learn with the Dragons. These races also gladly shared in the chores and upkeep of the grand mansions. Thus, other Mages used this as an example of reducing Little People to servidtude and that the Dragons don't deserve to be worshipped when they are slavers. Most argued that the Folk WANT to be with them.

However, no matter which opinion any of them held, there was a new worry for all of them. A new race was emerging.

These strange new ones walked upright and were smooth-skinned, yet they seemed to have no interest in burrowing like the others. They were large, twice as high as the nymphs and fauns who were the tallest. They used tools and cast their curious eyes everywhere, even to the slopes of the sacred mountains. But what was most alarming was that they did not look up, did not seek the skies to revere the beautiful Dragons that fluttered and danced above.

“I saw a group of them building something,” grumbled one dwarf to another as they worked a forge together. “Some large structure. Right at the edge of the forest, almost ON Mount Ele!”

“How dare they go so close! That’s where Mer and Lei keep their Hall!” the second dwarfs eyes rounded with wonder.

“They had two little ones with them. I say little even though they were as tall as you or I! Though as slender as sylphs. Bold as you please, the pair of them climbing even higher to explore.”

In a valley strewn with fragrant flowers, a faun chased a nymph in celebration of life. Later, as they lay entwined together near a gurgling stream, they talked about the new ones. “They are friendly though. My cousin hurt her leg near one of their camps. They took her in and certainly treated her well. Their food was strange and their talk even stranger. But she said they knew the properties of plants very well.”

The faun replied, “I know someone who knows someone who actually learned some of their words. They call themselves…Men.”

On the peak of Mount Ele, Merakhagon and Leilani happily tended their home undisturbed by these events. For them, sunshine glowed through intricately stained glass windows and outside, aromatic gardens bloomed. For them, a sumptuous meal was laid out for them three times a day and their guessts were happy friends. For them, a glorious sunset and a glorious sunrise bade them good evening and good morning while they rested between silk sheets and never grew tired of rejoicing in each other’s love.

This morning though. This morning, Mer strode quickly through the hallways of the mansion. He wore his Mage form; tall, well muscled and dark-haired, with vivid sparkling blue eyes and a disarming smile. He did not smile just now. Today, he and his wife would fly…against Dragons. That things had come to such a pass was appalling. Yet the disagreements over involvement with other races had inflamed tempers and put everyone in a vicious frame of mind.

Mer felt quite simply that absolute freedom should be allowed. The little people had not been harmed by the Mages in any way! In fact, they had usually benefited from draconic influence. He and his wife had spent happy times in various different forms. His lips quirked, recalling his faunly appreciation for Lei’s nymphly form.

His wife at that moment stepped forth to meet him, looking radiant as usual.Thick golden hair cascaded over her slender shoulders. Her skin glowed a silky café au lait. A few copper freckles shone on her nose and cheekbones. Brilliant green eyes blinked coyly at him. Then she changed form. Merakhagon followed suit a moment later. Bones stretched, skin flowed and became scaly, features melted and then lengthened. Wings erupted from their backs and limbs transformed. The red and the gold burst forth into flight together.

Battle was glorious. At first, he was terribly bored by the speeches as each side tried one last time to come to an agreement. The insults that followed primed him nicely for battle. Then at last he was allowed to launch forth belching flame, raking with his claws, wheeling and diving upon his enemies. Few could match him in battle. Even the best warriors struggled to wound him before having their guts spilled by his terrible claws. Frequently he lost sight of Leilani altogether, but he was confident she too could hold her own. Then came a lull in the continuous onslaught of Dragons facing him. Looking down and to his right, he understood why.

Five of the opposition surrounded his Leilani, shredding her paper-thin wings to ribbons. And five more were winging towards her, inhaling to blast her with flame. With a primal roar of rage, Mer raced through the air to save his wife. But the other Dragons had nearly reached her, and as he watched helplessly they charred her out of the sky. She fell silently, gaze fixed to his. Her green eyes, deep wells of love lost, were the only things he saw.

Of course he slaughtered them all. But what good is it to vanquish an enemy when it cannot bring back the beloved dead? And of course they inflicted terrible damage to him before they died. But to one so berserk with loss, what mind does he pay to injuries? Afterwards, he flew away, and only a few ever saw him again.

The ground beneath was littered with Dragon’s bodies. After they were cared for by those that survived, no race ever gathered there again. The valley became known as Alam al Afouwaadh, Pain of the Dragons, and nothing grew there.

There were other battles, but none like the first one. And as is common with wars, no side really won. The Little People saw few of Dragonkind anymore, and when they did they were often dying. The race of Man advanced, reproducing even more rapidly than the Mages had, and spreading all over the planet. The difference was, they did not rule benevolently.

One day, a group of them undertook to climb Mount Gosha. What their true intentions were was unknown. Whether to build on the slope, or carve a burrow into the bare rock, or even to simply explore; it did not matter. What witnesses to that particular event say is that a red streak came bursting from seemingly nowhere and burned the entire group of Men, all the way down to the last shred of tools and belongings they had brought. One or two of the older dwarves whispered in awe that it must be Merakhagon.

It was, of course it was. He had been living there for the last few decades like a pauper in a rude hut on the far slope of Mount Gosha. Surly and scarred, he intended to live out the rest of his days utterly alone. Realizing that ANY race was setting foot on the place of his chosen exile incensed him. Now, pacing angrily in his tiny home, he knew full well what would happen. Rumors of his appearance would run like wildfire among all the races. Pilgrimages would come to the foot of the mountain. Offerings would be left. Hungry, yearning eyes would beseech him to come forth again.

In his Mage form, he ran his hands through his dark hair and sighed gustily. Looking down at his naked body, his eyes traced the scars and breaks of that long ago battle. They had never properly healed, for he’d had no partner to tend him. He himself had been too grief stricken to care at the time. No one would care to revere me or befriend me now, he thought darkly. Not when they see how tattered my carcass is. Changing back to Dragon form, he rose into the sky on weary wings.

“Well hello, Mer darling!” Her mocking voice grated his ears.

“Ankheliga!”

“I knew you’d be mine someday!” She gloated, her eyes caressing his frame. She licked her lips. “Even scars add to your beauty, my sensuous beast.”

With a snarl of disgust, he lashed out at her with a forepaw. She grabbed his paw in her teeth and licked along his scales, insinuating herself closer. “Mmmm,” she purred. “Getting rough already? My, you must be impatient for me!”

She laughed at his obvious loathing of her; even his rejection was much more satisfying than the indifference she had always received in the past. Mockingly she kissed him, smiling cruelly as he spat the taste of her from his mouth. Her love for him had turned to hatred.

“Being with you would taint the very idea of coupling!” He raged. With this extreme insult, he flew at her face with teeth bared, and the fight was on.

Years ago, when both were much younger, all it would take for him to knock her out of the skies would be a slap like the one he’d given her earlier. She was much stronger now, and much more cunning. And he was still weak; the toll had been taken from his last, greatest, and most terrible battle. They strove higher, great pinions straining, claws raking at each other’s bellies, teeth snapping at each other’s faces. Snaking her head sideways, she managed to bite a chunk from his tender throat. Mer bashed his skull down onto hers, striking her eyesocket with his massive jawbone.

She squealed in pain and jerked sideways, putting them into a spin. He flapped his wings mightily but she clung like dead weight and they plummeted, twisting and turning. Bashing her in the skull repeatedly with his own head, at last he felt her go limp. Only then did he manage to tear free, but he sacrificed gobbets of flesh to do so.

Narrowly he escaped crashing into the very mountain. Ankheliga was not so lucky; she grazed the precipice and scraped her flank raw. For a moment she crouched on all fours, wings beating furiously to maintain her balance, eyes glaring wildly. Merakhagon hovered a few feet above her. Suddenly, and with speed that caught him unprepared, she rushed at him. Catching his face in her forepaws, she sank her claws into his cheeks and her teeth into his eye. He wrapped his own forearms around her and with his wings beat her in the head and body to free himself. Pain exploded through him, and his roar now sounded more like a scream of agony.

At last he tore free, or maybe she released him. Merakhagon wobbled in the air. One eye was completely blind, gore coated his cheek, and the taste of blood pooled in the back of his throat. His entire body ached dully. He was so tired, all he wanted to do was lie down and rest.

Landing on the cliff’s edge, he turned his head to and fro searching for his adversary. Ankheliga crouched a few feet above him, looking down at him with a strange expression on her face. “It’s a pity Mer. We could have flown high together. I only wanted a taste of you, not to take you from her entirely. Now she’s gone, and shortly, so will I be. What have you gained?”

While she spoke Mer gathered the very last of his strength, inhaling deeply for what was meant to be his last fireball. It certainly was spectacular, and should have cindered Ankheliga. But a split second before he let his incandescence forth, her blue eyes shifted and widened in recognition of something beyond him. Up into the heavens she leapt, and it was only her feet that were singed in the blast. Charcoaled rather badly, and that was his only consolation as he lay in a heap, spent utterly.

“This way, men! It’s less than a hundred feet up now! We’ll find what made that fireball, sure enough. Whew! Most beautiful mountain in the world, and soon enough we’ll rule from the peak!” The exploring Men continued to toil up the side of the mountain.

The End.

My thanks and acknowledgment to Robert Marke, whose wonderful Dragon characters I was graciously given permission to use.

[the-penguin-of-baskervilles]

“Walmart is overrated,” you told him, turning the radio down. “Besides, small towns are so cute!”

Mmmhhh… spoken like someone who’s never lived in an extremely rural area. I’m drawing the conclusion that she’s from a town or a city based on this.

Anyone who’s had to drive two hours to get groceries and stock up for a whole month while they’re there (because they’re not making that four hour round trip again unless they absolutely have to) would say that. I’m not judging her because all my college friends were city/town kids and they were this way, too. (Wait. Does that mean I would be Bob in this scenario?) But for real I once had to explain to a friend at college that there’s a difference between a fuel transfer tank and an auxiliary fuel tank… which immediately led to a conversation about why I knew the difference. 🤦🏼‍♀️

Bob’s reaction to her comment is so real. He’s not cynical, he’s just sick of the inconveniences of small town living. 😂

Ooohh… local legends? I’m listening.

“I would have killed to live somewhere like this with such fun local legends.”

Good point. I would feel the same way.

Possibly because the only local legends in my area is about 30-foot-tall, man-eating creatures that roam a particular canyon in the mountains looking for unsuspecting humans to capture, toss in a large basket, and take back to their camp before eventually consuming them whole. Anything would be better than a tribe of giants with cannibalistic tendencies, right?

“They say these creatures come out of the depths to prey on humans on the land, dragging them into the depths never to be seen again.”

Okay, so the mermaid legend thing is basically the same thing as the Tsawhawbitts I grew up with, but at least they’re not cannibals… I hope? Let’s say: cannibalism status unknown, but preying on humans is a definite yes.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Susan snapped

I love this bit of dialogue because it’s so authentic. Whenever someone talked about the local legends it was always like an uncle or a male cousin, someone trying to scare me. And yeah, my Mom would be pissed later, when I had nightmares and woke her up in the middle of the night. 😆

Also, I now have a face claim image of Bob’s father as the doctor from Hart of Dixie.

For your reference, this is my current head cannon of what Bob’s dad looks like:

The most anyone talks about where I’m from is Bigfoot.

I mean, at least Bigfoot isn’t a cannibal! Whoops. Is my childhood trauma from cannibal monster stories showing? 😬 Sorry!

I love that Mickey has long hair in this story! Excellent styling decision on your part. Also, where is Jake? We’re missing someone. 🤔

Ah, Missouri. They have a very high density of Walmarts. My entire state has less than 20. I guess I can understand better about why the reader doesn’t know what she’s missing, considering where she’s from.

Ooohh, Mandy? Who is Mandy? 👀 That was a very curious interaction and a poor cover up on Bradley’s part. Okay, Mandy seems like a treat… NOT! What did Jake do in a past life to deserve her?

“C’mon, sunshine,” Bradley said with a roll of his eyes at the couple across the bar. “If we stay any longer, I might lose my hearing.”

This is an amazing line 😂

The ending was great. I can’t wait to read the next chapter!

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter One

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Alcohol consumption, Sassy Bob, Flirty Bradley, Supernatural elements, Siren calls. I think that's it?

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Here is chapter one!! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I am enjoying writing it lol I'm so excited to continue this one. Just a quick reminder to you all that I will be out of town Wednesday-Saturday, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to update as I will be attending a wedding! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also follow me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I will be posting updates as well!

Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

You crossed the bridge to North Island a few hours later, the sun hanging low in the sky, but not quite to the point of setting. You marveled at the expanse of water that stretched on beneath you as you drove.

“Not sure why the founders wanted to settle way the hell out here,” Bob grumbled beside you. “We’re too small to even have a damn Walmart.”

“Walmart is overrated,” you told him, turning the radio down. “Besides, small towns are so cute!”

“Not when you’re forced to live there every day,” Bob retorted with a roll of his eyes. You rolled your eyes back at him, repositioning Rusty who still sat on your lap.

“You’re too close to it to see all the charm it has to offer.”

“I give it two weeks before you eat those words,” he smirked. You reached over to smack his shoulder lightly, and he looked over at you in mock shock. “Don’t hit the driver!”

“Well, maybe the driver shouldn’t be such a cynic,” you teased, leaning back. Bob chuckled as the car reached the other side of the bay, passing the crowded beaches. “Does North Island get a lot of tourists?”

“Only during the summertime, really,” he replied. “It’s a calm, quiet little town with white beaches and pretty views all over the island. The founders have really played into the local legends over the years, so we have a lot of souvenir shops dedicated to those.”

“What local legends?” you asked him, quirking a brow. Bob flushed, the tips of his ears turning a bright red.

“It’s dumb,” he grumbled, but you were listening intently now.

The two of you drove through the downtown area, people milling about and enjoying the end of the summer day. The dinner crowd was beginning to pick up and you could hear the music blaring from several different buildings.

“No, come on,” you grinned. “You can’t drop that little tidbit and then not tell me.”

“Alright, fine,” he sighed, glancing at you. “For as long as the town has been around, there have been stories of…things in the water.”

“What do you mean? Like a really big fish or something?”

He shifted in his seat, turning down a side road that led away from town.

“I mean,” he hummed, “things like mermaids.”

You laughed at that, and Bob grimaced. “I told you it was dumb,” he muttered.

“No, no,” you giggled. “It’s cute, really. I love mermaids!”

He rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t if you grew up surrounded by them.”

“There you go being all cynical again,” you scowled. “I would have killed to live somewhere like this with such fun local legends.”

Bob pulled down a gravel driveway and past a grouping of trees. You saw a grand, white house perched at the edge of the hill overlooking the water. A porch wrapped around both the first and second floor, and you saw a path lead down the hill towards the beach.

“I’m glad one of us is excited to be here,” he chuckled, coming to a stop on the blacktop as you stared at the large house in front of you.

“You live here?” You asked, looking over at him in shock.

Bob had the decency to look sheepish as he turned off the car. “Yeah, this is home.”

At that moment, a small, blonde woman opened the door with a wide grin. She rushed out onto the porch as a burly, spectacled man stepped out behind her. Bob opened his door, and you followed suit. Susan Floyd rushed down the steps and up towards you, wrapping you in a warm hug before turning to give her son a matching one. Richard Floyd gave you a warm smile as he clapped his son on the back.

“You two must be exhausted after that drive,” Susan cooed, ushering you into the house as the two men moved to get your luggage out of the car. You smiled warmly at her and allowed her to lead you into the house.

“I’m not too tired,” you told her as she sat you down in a stool by the island in the kitchen. It was a spacious room, opening up into the dining room. A set of glass doors led out onto the back porch, the ocean sitting front and center in the beautiful view of the beach below.

“That’s good,” she hummed, stirring the pot on the stove. “Are you hungry, sweetie? I made some of my special spaghetti. It’s Bobby’s favorite, you know.”

Bob groaned as he stepped into the kitchen with his father. “Mom, I’ve told you. It’s not Bobby, it’s Bob.”

Susan smiled at the younger man affectionately. “Yes, of course dear. Were you hungry?”

“Starved, actually,” he smiled, plopping down in the seat next to you. Susan began piling noodles and sauce onto two different plates before setting them down in front of the two of you. Bob uttered a thanks before shoveling a healthy fork full into his mouth. You giggled, watching as he ate like he hadn’t eaten in months. You took a much smaller bite than he had, humming at how good the sauce tasted. It had a hint of red wine that pulled out the flavors of the garlic and herbs.

“How’s it taste?” she smiled at you, leaning against the counter.

“Ifs delisus,” Bob said through a mouthful of noodles. She scowled at him before throwing a napkin at him.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful,” she scolded before turning to look at you expectantly. You chuckled before nodding your agreement.

“It’s delicious, Mrs. Floyd.”

“No, none of that,” she scowled. “Call me Susan.”

“Yes, Susan,” you smiled. She smiled at you before turning to clean up the rest of the kitchen. Bob inhaled his first plate of spaghetti, and Susan was quick to load his plate up with more.

“Has Bob told you any of the town’s history yet, y/n?” Richard asked you from his spot at the dining room table. Bob groaned, hiding his face in his hands as you smiled.

“He told me about the mermaid legends,” you grinned. You saw Susan pause out of the corner of your eye as Richard gave you a wry smile.

“I don’t know if I would call them mermaids,” he mused, giving a pointed look at his son who refused to meet his gaze. “But our town has a long, storied history, yes.”

“Oh?” You asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Richard hummed, leaning back in his chair. “No, mermaid is an insulting term for what these creatures are. They’re fierce hunters, preying these waters with deadly accuracy. Sometimes they even hunt on land.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned. Susan gave him a warning look, but he continued.

“They say these creatures come out of the depths to prey on humans on the land, dragging them into the depths never to be seen again.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Susan snapped at him, Richard giving her an apologetic look. “I don’t want to hear any more of that nonsense tonight. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go take out the trash?”

Richard heaved a sigh, standing to obey her. He passed you with a wink, dropping a hand to your shoulder.

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, y/n,” he smiled, turning to head out the door. Susan sighed, turning to look at you once she heard the door close behind him.

“I’m sorry about him,” she grumbled, shooting a glare at where her husband had just disappeared. “He loves those crazy stories. Don’t even pay him any mind, okay?”

“I don’t mind!” You assured her. “I think it’s all very interesting. The most anyone talks about where I’m from is Bigfoot.”

“As much as I would love to hear you go on your bigfoot theories tirade again,” Bob spoke up, rolling his eyes. “I thought you might want to go out tonight.”

“Bobby, I’m sure she’s tired,” his mother started, but you shook your head, turning excitedly to look at your best friend.

“No, it’s fine!” You chirped. “I think it would be fun to go out and get to see the sites. Where did you have in mind?”

“I was thinkin’ I could take you down to the Hard Deck,” he mused.

Susan rolled her eyes at him. “You want to take her to a bar of all things?”

“Why not? The gang is going to be there tonight, I already texted them to make sure. They’re anxious to meet her.”

Susan seemed to brighten at that. “Oh, you’ll love’em, y/n! They’re such a good group of kids, and I just know they’ll love you too.”

“So we have your blessing then?” Bob joked, earning another scowl.

“Yes, you kids go out and have a good time, but don’t be out too late! I think your father said something about wanting to take the boat out tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He mock saluted, earning a smack to the top of his head this time. You chuckled at the two of them as Bob rubbed the back of his head. He turned to look at you with a scowl at your obvious amusement. “C’mon, I’ll show you your room.”

The night was warm despite the cool breeze blowing in through the window from the ocean, and you chalked it up to the densely populated bar you now found yourself sitting in. You had followed Bob inside, having to grab his hand in order to keep from getting separated amongst the crowd.

“Bob!”

You turned to see a group of five seated at a large table on the far wall next to the patio. The only woman in the group raised her hand to grab his attention, and Bob eagerly dragged you over to them.

“Hey, college boy,” grinned a tanned man with long, curly hair that was slicked back. “How’s it hangin’?”

“More importantly,” said the dark-skinned man across from him, looking at you, “who’s your friend?”

“Guys, this is y/n, my best friend from Duke,” he gestured to you with a grin. “Y/n, this is Mickey, Reuben, Natasha, Javy, and Bradley.”

Each of them waved to you at the mention of their name, and you waved back with a small smile. The mustached one, Bradley, grinned up at you before shuffling over on the bench.

“Ain’t no need to be shy, sunshine,” he winked at you, gesturing to the now open seat next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You sat down slowly next to him, Bob scooting onto the bench across from you and next to Natasha.

“So, y/n,” she smiled, leaning forward with intrigue clear in her eyes, “where you from?”

“Oh, I’m from Missouri,” you smiled at her.

“Missouri?” Mickey snorted, earning a ribbing from Javy. You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, it’s not glamorous or anything, but it’s home,” you explained.

Reuben leaned around Bradley to look at you. “So you were in the same major as Bob, right? How did you even get into that?”

“Oh, I’ve always had a fascination with the sea, I guess. Felt like I might have been a mermaid in another life,” you joked, and the group chuckled, earning a look from Bob as you looked around uncertainly. “Did I say something funny?”

“Nah, sunshine,” Bradley grinned. “It’s just cute is all. Imagine you being a little mermaid.”

“In fairness, I was five,” you blushed, and he reached down to pinch your cheek gently.

“Don’t go gettin’ shy on us again,” he drawled. Javy rolled his eyes, taking a sip from the glass of beer in front of him.

“You’re almost putting Jake to shame right now,” he chuckled, causing Mickey and Reuben to both snort. Bob looked around the bar, brow furrowing.

“Speaking of, where is he?” He asked the rest of the group. Bradley let out a low chuckle, resting his arm behind you as Natasha rolled her eyes at the name.

“Mandy has been especially clingy, as of late,” Reuben frowned, peering towards the bar with a pointed look. Bob turned, frowning at what he saw. “Been dropping hints left and right for weeks. She barely leaves his side.”

“Well, yeah,” Bradley scoffed, taking a swig from his bottle. “I’m not surprised since it’s almost time for-”

Natasha cleared her throat, giving a pointed glance to you.

“Almost time for what?” you asked, looking around at the table. No one said a thing, giving small glares at Bradley who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat and looked down at you, an easy smile spreading across his face.

“I just noticed that you don’t have a drink, sunshine,” he said. “Why don’t you come with me to the bar, and I’ll get you something?”

You gave one last look around the table before nodding slowly. “Yeah, okay. I could use a drink.”

You stood, Bradley close behind you, and you looked over at Bob. “You’re usual?”

“Please,” he said, giving you a tight lipped smile. You returned it softly, following Bradley up to the bar.

“Bradley,” hummed the older woman behind the bar, green eyes narrowing in on him as she saw you next to him.

“Penny,” he smirked, leaning against the counter. She walked over to the two of you, placing a hand on her hip as she frowned at him.

“What can I get you?” She asked him.

“Two beers and?” He turned to you, eyebrow raised.

“A jack and coke, please,” you smiled at her. She returned the gesture warmly, moving to make your drink.

“You best be careful around this one, honey,” she drawled, eyeing the man next to you. “He has a habit of goin’ around breaking hearts.”

“Penny, you wound me,” Bradley cried in mock hurt, gaping mouth quickly turning into another grin. He shot you a wink. “I would never do that to sunshine here.”

Penny snorted, handing him two beers and you your glass. “Right. You’re no better than Seresin over here.”

She jerked her head to the other side of the bar. You followed her gaze, seeing a blond man turn at the sound of his name. He glanced over to where Penny was looking at you and Bradley leaning up against the bar. He had an easy smirk on his face that rivaled Bradley’s, and when he turned his green eyes to you, you swear your heart stopped beating for a moment. His eyes were like sea glass, a frosty, almost moss colored green. It was like the world faded to black around you as you looked at him. You felt something that you could only describe as a tether snapping into place as his eyes bore into yours. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn his eyes started glowing as he continued to stare into the very depths of your soul.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes snapped to the side where Bradley was watching you worriedly. You shook the silly thoughts from your head. “I’m sorry, what?”

Bradley chuckled down at you, a hint of worry still tugging at his lips.

“I was just asking if you were ready to head back to the others?”

“Oh,” you trailed off, glancing back at the stranger across the bar. He was still staring at you, face unreadable. The brunette standing next to him looked very put out as he continued to ignore her.

“Jake!” She hissed at him, gripping his jaw and turning his face to look at her. “Are you listening to me?”

Jake looked down at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “Huh?”

“You are so dense sometimes,” she snapped, dropping her hand back to her side. The stranger, Jake, glanced back over at you, and the brunette followed his line of sight, scowling when she saw you. Bradley let out a low whistle before nudging you with his elbow playfully.

“Would sure hate to be him right about now,” he joked, an exaggerated grimace making you giggle. “Mandy is no joke when she’s pissed.”

“Jake!” Mandy shrieked. You chanced another look across the bar. Mandy looked like she was about to blow a fuse as she stared daggers between you and the man at her side. Said man was now frowning, eyes darting between you and Bradley. “I’m talking to you!”

“C’mon, sunshine,” Bradley said with a roll of his eyes at the couple across the bar. “If we stay any longer, I might lose my hearing.”

You followed him back to the table silently, still feeling the heavy weight of two green eyes on your back.

You slept with the window open that night, eager to feel the sea air on your skin as you slept. Your curtains billowed lightly as the moonlight poured into your room. You tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep in. Your bed wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite in fact, so you weren’t sure what had woken you up. You glanced at your phone, the numbers on the screen showing that it was far too early in the morning to still be awake. You huffed out a sigh, listening to the waves as they crashed against the shore below. That was when you heard it.

You weren’t sure what it was at first, it was so unlike anything you had ever experienced. It was a low hum that slowly turned into a lamentful cry amongst the breaking waves. You tossed your blankets back, quickly getting up and padding over to the window. The cry turned into what you could only describe as a song, not too dissimilar to one a whale would make, but this sounded almost…human? You peered out the window, heart racing as you continued to listen to the strange song. You felt a yearning unlike any other crescendo inside of you, calling to you from a distance almost like it wasn’t even your own. Your mind began to feel heavy, hazy with what, you weren’t sure. The song continued, calling to you, begging you to follow. Your eyes grew lidded, skin warm as you felt the call seep into your skin, drowning everything out but the inherent need to obey. You turned, taking a step towards your door.

A dog began to bark, causing you to jump and the song to stop. Shaking the cloudiness from your mind, you looked out the window once again. You caught sight of what you could only describe as a fish’s tail, silver scales gleaming in the moonlight, rising up before disappearing back beneath the waves.

[jaskiersvalley]

Wolf, Werewolf, Swearwolf

Over the years winters at Kaer Morhen had become quite the social event. What had been sullen, quiet seasons of four miserable and tired witchers had blossomed into something so much more. It had started with Jaskier. Then Geralt had brought Ciri along and Yennefer had a knack for dropping by. There was a lot of ribbing and jesting how the most standoffish lone wolf was single-handedly responsible for bringing a veritable party to the old keep. The year he brought Cahir along too, some of the teasing fell away, mostly because Eskel and Lambert were too busy competing for his affections. That spring, Cahir set out to join Eskel on the path but they both kissed Lambert goodbye with the promise of meeting up with him throughout the year.

One thing was standard for the winter though, the ever present swear jar. It had gotten rather large over the years yet it always seemed to fill up.

“Morning cocksuckers,” Lambert would announce as he arrived for breakfast, heading for the jar before the food to drop off the fine. He claimed it was absolutely worth it. Poor Vesemir wondered where he had gone so wrong with Lambert, his mouth only seemed to get fouler as the years went on. It had become a bit of a running joke between Eskel and Vesemir that Lambert funded most of Kaer Morhen’s necessities for the year with his swearing.

As far as Aiden was concerned, Lambert had some very strange habits. He refused to buy a horse, spent his coin so frugally that it was almost to his detriment. And spare money was squirrelled away dutifully and never seen again. It was a bit frustrating whenever they met up because Aiden liked to treat himself and had grown to want to give Lambert nice things too. More often than not, he ended up paying for a room at an inn, nicer meals than the bare minimum just because it didn’t feel right to miss out. It also, selfishly, meant that Aiden could watch Lambert sigh in happiness when he got a rare treat.

“What you doing for winter?” Aiden had asked and Lambert rolled his eyes. They were meant to be hunting a griffin but there was no sign of it.

“Oh sheesh, I don’t know. Maybe returning to that musty old keep.”

There was a screech in the distance and Lambert looked up as the griffin was dive bombing them.

“Oh fudge.”

It was much later that Lambert realised just what Aiden had been trying to ask.

“You know, if you want to, you could come home with me.” He had a suspicion that Eskel and Cahir would love Aiden too.

“I’d be delighted,” Aiden replied with a grin. “You’re a numpty if you thought I would ever refuse.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a nincompoop.” Lambert stuck his tongue out at Aiden.

That was how the two ended up climbing the mountain, Lambert sometimes snarling a “stupid branch” or “dumb piece of trash”. It was all rather familiar and Aiden was quietly charmed by Lambert all over again. That all changed as soon as they walked through the keep.

“What’s up bitches? Guess who’s back!”

“Lambert,” Vesemir greeted. “And friend.”

Strolling through, Lambert was instinctively reaching for his coin pouch. “”Aiden, the old fart is Vesemir. Snowman and Sunshine are Geralt and Jaskier. Eskel and Cahir will be along later. And this fucker-” he dropped a coin in the swear jar, “-is the fucking-” another coin, “-swear fucking-” yet another coin, “-jar.”

A little stunned, Aiden stared at Lambert, not understanding the change. His eyes strayed to the jar as Vesemir pinched the bridge of his nose.

“We have a swear jar, not that it seems to deter certain people from dirty language.” At least Vesemir looked a little chagrined at Lambert’s unusual behaviour and Aiden’s gaze drifted back to his wolf.

“Damn fucking right,” Lambert grinned and dropped another coin into the almost empty jar. However, there was something in his face, a veiled worry mixed with pleading hope. It was something Aiden would need to try and tease out of him later, without an audience.

As promised, Eskel and Cahir arrived a few days later, looking road weary. And Lambert had been absolutely right, Eskel adored Aiden. There was a bit of tension between Cahir and the newest addition to the dynamic but, one evening they disappeared, only resurfacing for dinner, looking rather too smug. Lambert should have known to be scared.

It all started off so normal, everyone sat around the table, chatter a low murmur. Which was how Lambert only just about caught the nod between Cahir and Aiden before it all kicked off.

“This meal is fucking delicious,” Aiden announced. Down the table Ciri looked up.

“Swear jar!” She took far too much delight in reminding her family of its existence, especially as she tended to reap the benefits of a full swear jar the most. It meant that they could stock up on more expensive spices and treats for the winter.

“Yeah, Aiden,” Cahir drawled, “pay the fuck up.”

To prove his point, Cahir tossed a coin to the middle of the tabled.

“Fucking fine,” Lambert snapped and two coins landed next to Cahir’s. Everyone stared at them, not knowing whether it was the start of an argument or not.

In typical Geralt fashion, he tried to intervene. “This is not how we speak at the dinner table.”

Rather than achieve peace, Cahir turned to his friend with a grin. “Hey Geralt? Suck my dick.”

Another coin landed in the middle of the table unrepentant and almost proud. The game was on when Jaskier cottoned on and he slung an arm around Geralt and squeezed. “He can only suck my dick. If you want your nubby excuse of a thing suckled, you have three other bloody mouths to choose from.”

He patted his pockets and pulled out an errant coin, flipping it nonchalantly to join the others.

“Hell no,” Aiden leaned forward. “That little bitch can suck my cock but I don’t kneel for a Niilfgaardian.” Another coin landed on the table.

“Not a sodding Nilfgaardian.” Cahir stood and slapped a handful of coin on the table. “If you think I am, then you should have been a stain on your mother’s chin.”

“Oh fuck off and tell your dad to shit jizz!” Aiden pushed away from the table and stood, adding a larger handful of coin to the rapidly growing pile.

Around them, Eskel, Lambert, Vesemir and Geralt looked a little too stunned while Jaskier was cackling.

“Bollocks!” He yelled just to be able to flip a coin up in the air and smack it into the other coins.

“Piss!” Aiden hollered back and laughed.

Cahir snorted out a “shitsticks” much to Eskel’s amusement.

Insults flew around the table amidst wild giggles and the money pile grew and grew until Aiden had one coin left in his hand which he flipped it repeatedly. Obviously, he was mulling something over. Mind made up, he looked around the table. “You’re all a bunch of cunts but I love you all already.”

His last coin was thrown and he sat down, grinning proudly. Cahir settled too, starting to tuck into his meal as if they hadn’t just had a major swearing match. Next to him, Lambert buried his face in his hands, realising what had just happened, embarrassed that two of his boyfriends figured him out so quickly when the rest of his family hadn’t put two and two together. Then again, none of the others spent enough time away from Kaer Morhen with him to know he usually didn’t have such a potty mouth. But, well, someone had to fund a better life for them all and it wasn’t like Lambert could do something nice so obviously. So he swore and paid his fines, letting everyone think he just didn’t care.

At the head of the table, Vesemir cleared his throat and everyone looked up, just to watch him very deliberately add his first coin to the swear jar pile in what had to be several decades.

“You’re all fucking idiots. Literally.”

[harmonytre]

Comic Plans

Current Projects:

Prismtale (Mondays): An Undertale AU involving NPCs and multiverse travelling. Multi-chapter comic and ongoing.

Mistbreak (Tuesdays): A Steven Universe AU with about 5 pages left of the comic. Then it will become an ask/drabble/design blog.

Flicker of a Neon Soul (Wednesdays): An Undertale AU where monsters have colored soul traits and humans have white soul traits. 10+ chaptered comic with many plans and plot.

Taffy and Steven (Thursdays): A Steven Universe where Steven and his gem are split into different people and Taffy is a wholesome boyo. One page left of the comic, then will become an ask/edit blog with occasional comics.

Future Fandom Projects:

Pokemon Nuzlocke Comics: Multiple regions and an overarching plot. I need to finish playing and writing the first arc before starting the comic. (long term)

Who I Am: A Pokemon comic where James from Team Rocket is a were-pokemon. I need to rewrite it first. About 7 to 8 chapters. (medium length)

Other Undertale AUs: Certain AUs will be revealed in Prismtale and turn into side blogs, and others will be one time comics. (varies)

Future Original Projects:

(One of these I want to make extremely interactive. Like the audience makes choices for the characters.)

Phantulfurs: A comic about teens with powers to see creatures no one else can. I’ve rewritten the first chapter multiple times, but I need to really write it out before starting the comic. About ten arcs. (long term)

Skryculars: A sequel to the above story. (medium length)

The Journeyers: A multi-book series with my cousin. About ten books. Involves animals, powers, and romance. Won’t give information beyond that. (long term)

Unnamed Animated Series: Still need to design the two main characters, but they’ll travel through many worlds from my dream world. (long term youtube series)

Unnamed Wings Story: Decided many many characters for a high school story with wings. Lots of diversity and LGBTQ. Problem is I don’t like writing high school stories and have no plot. ;^; (medium? short?)

Unnamed Long Term Comic: A story about a space girl with wings, a nonbinary person that can shapeshift and communicate with animals, twins with water and plant powers, and an angsty wholesome skeleton bean. No plot yet. (long term)

Short Term (below the cut, any catch your interest?)

(keep in mind many of these I wrote the descriptions for years ago or based off of dreams.)

“Orphan Dog” and “Martha’s Pack” An orphan finds out she can talk to dogs and realizes they are the key to finding her missing parents. (Wrote when I was 8, rewrote partially when I was 13. So very cheezy. Would be even cheezier if I didn’t rewrite it, but still drew quality serious art XD.)

“The Agency” A girl named Jill has secrets. Major secrets. For one, she can turn into any animal at will including extinct, Fantasy, or hybrids. Don’t forget that she can also turn invisible and do telepathy. (Not to mention she runs an entire secret animal spy community…) When her best friend and spy ally, Izabella the opossum, goes missing, she must find what it means to be a true friend and showing that it’s what’s inside that counts. (Actually liked this one too. Even if it’s also cheezy.)

1. “Moos” A boy is adopted by cows and is granted the power to understand animals and turn into a cow.

2. “Moos: Vile Meat” Hoover is back and he must defeat the evil Haystack, a human entrapping calfs in little domes for eternity.

3. “Moos: Cold Cuts” Hoover finds a new ally, one who creates...snow?

4. “Moos: Wakey Wakey Eggs and Bakey” Haystack is back and Hoover and his friends must defeat him before he turns all pigs into stone. (Cheezy series?)

“Extraordinaries” Emma, her friend, Millie, her brother, Clark, and her dog, Charlie, have to travel to a faraway land to save Emma’s mother, who has been poisoned. Along the way Emma and the team must find how to deal with their newfound powers of Imagination. (This one was also pretty good! A story from Nanowrimo a few years ago.)

“The Hummingbird Did It” A hummingbird turns a lazy boy into a dog. The boy must venture across country to find the cure. (Was kinda boring and just me having fun with google maps lol.)

“Sunshine and Rainbows” A girl is taken to another world by rainbow dust and must find her way back to Earth. (Can’t actually remember this one.)

“Nature’s Lifeforce” A boy and girl are given the power to turn into any woodland creature and talk to trees. (Also can’t remember, but sounds cool.)

“Ravens” A girl named Hannah, a boy named Billy, a boy named Cameron, a girl named Lyla, and a boy named Clark, among other students, have their wishes come true. This creates a problem as Cameron becomes a dog, Lyla becomes a cat and Hannah and Billy become ravens. They fix the problem for everyone except Hannah and Billy, but embark on an adventure to find the scientist who can help them. (Based on a dream, I think.)

“Dragon wings” Hiccup and Toothless accidentally sit down someplace weird. They switch bodies and Toothless claims to have heard someone press a button. (ASDFGHJKL WHAT?! HTTYD short story)

“Melody Dreambubble” A weird new pony arrives in Ponyville. Twilight is curious to find that she has no Cutie Mark, was raised by wolves, and bears mysterious powers. (My Little Pony, kinda self insert, short story)

“Eyes of Gold/The Tower” A Fan Fiction based on The Ever Afters series and two stories rolled into one. Rory finds that her two best friends have been poisoned by a new dragon species/As Rory is about to enter a tower to save Chase a random girl shows up out of nowhere and has a weird habit of annoying Adelaide. (Was my first ever self insert? And based on a book series unlike the rest? Cool! Oh I even wrote ten whole pages! Neat. Featuring a girl chasing a dragon with a bedpan!)

“Roadkill” A man purposely runs over a deer on a freeway. The deer’s best friend curses the man, later to regret it because he has to undo the curse himself. (Lol, this was interesting.)

“Melissa and Steven Started a Food Fight” A completely random book that takes the characters through an adventure of explosions, unicorns, and talking squirrels. (Used a random prompt generator. Very random. And funny.)

“Before it’s Gone” A snooty teen crashes in her car and finds a surprise when she wakes up. (Oh yeah, another old story. She turned into a dog and none of the other dogs believed her.)

“The Unicorn Killer” A short story about poachers and Julia. (Yep. Short story.)

1. “Feathers of Gold” A logical young bird griffin, Gabriel, wants to find a way to stop to war between bird and lion in his land, Genetica.

2. “Scales of Emerald” A shy young dragon, Emmie, tries to keep her land, Reptilia, from destruction.

3. “Hair of Crystal” A brave young unicorn, Crystal, tries to find a way to join together the leaders of the land of Equinsta.

4. “Flames of Ruby” A vain young phoenix, Flaxter, tries to capture the eyes of girls. Taken place in the land of Flamia.

5. “Gems Unite” Gabriel, Emmie, Crystal, and Flaxter find out they are The Gems, the only ones who can save their world, Animagicia, from the beings, called Humurns, that are trying to destroy it. They must come together and find who they truly are. (Might have fun with this series. I’ve always loved mythical animals.)

“The Distance from Sam” An 8 year-old St. Bernard named Barry, a 3 year-old Golden Retriever named Mick, and a 1 year-old Sheltie named Sandy set off to return to their owner Sam, after being kidnapped and sent across country. (Kinda like Homeward Bound. Came in mind when I saw these three dogs alone by a street, no humans around.)

“The Skilled” Andy and Ashley(both fifteen) and their eight year-old siblings, twins Alex and Alexa, gain powers from the sewers. All: understand animals and fly, Andy: talk to toys, Ashley: speak to plants, Alex and Alexa: psychic powers. “I used to think my toys would come to life when I was gone. I guess I was right.”-Andy. Based on a dream. (Too many “A” names, oof. Also, toy Story much?)

“The Moon’s Eye” A teenage girl named April gets trapped under a snow drift and wakes up to be a wolf. A nearby wolf pack needs her aid and calls her The Mooneye, a changeling. (Cool. Cool.)

“Unusual Forces of Omnipotence” A woman and her horse are supposedly crushed by a U.F.O. When Tanaya wakes up she finds out she has super strong senses and can run as fast as her horse. Pluto the alien knows he’s going to be in trouble if his planet finds out he crash landed and accidentally gave a human the powers of her horse. He tries to fix it. Told from Tanaya, Sunray (the horse), and Pluto’s point of view. Based on a dream. (Sounds interesting! Title came from before I knew UFO was an acronym lol.)

“The Lawn” Unknown to humans, a yard full of statues come alive at night. There is an elk, two bears, four buffalo, a wolf, an eagle, three horses, a small boy, a moose, a bighorn sheep, and a rabbit. (Based on a real lawn I’d see on the way to school.)

“Dragon Eyes” Max has an ordinary life, until his family, him, and his three friends, Alice, Peter, and Samuel, are transported to another world. His parents are then kidnapped and they have to fight against an evil Mother Nature. Based on a dream. (Interesting. The dream was freaky.)

“Sweet Treat” Emily’s dad works at a candy factory, and one day she visits him and realizes his work is not all it seems… Based on a dream. (What? I don’t remember what was different about his work???)

“The Flight of the Supernatural” Randy thinks he is mostly a normal kid. Sure, he and his dad live inside a mountain, and sure, some flying species of human killed his mother, that doesn’t mean he can’t live normal life homeschooling and watching TV. But unfortunately, Randy’s life turns around when he finds out he can fly. Is his father telling the truth? Did his own species kill his mother? Based on a dream. (Actually REALLY loved this story.)

“Whispering Willow” A girl named Willow helps 20 wolf cubs escape a pet store and then is recruited by a zoo. Pretty soon all of the animals know her as Whisper. Based on a dream. (Cool. another animal whisperer.)

“The Invasion of Our Minds” Little black aliens invade Earth and only one person can stop them: Julia. Based on a dream. (Oh RIGHT! Yeah I remember that.)

“The Marble Island(Possibly a short story?)” Julia goes on a trip to a new marble island only to find the owner turns people into stone figurines. Based on a dream. (Links to the previous story, I think.)

“Have some candy!” Violet, an expert on strange occurrences, needs to help a group of people who mysteriously turned into animals after attempting to grab candy bars from a bin in a local store. Based on a dream. (More animal transformation.)

“The Guide to Mythical Creatures I Made Up” A guide to everything from the Mystic Melody to the Gollan. (I don’t remember either of their designs! :P )

“Trying to Get Back to Mom” Michael and Annabelle meet new friends, while they frantically try to reunite with their mother. (Don’t remember.)

“Surprise of the Future” Pearl travels to the future and has to fight her now-evil brother in his stone mansion. (Not Pearl from SU. Based on a dream.)

��All for You” A man has to overcome many obstacles, such as mermaids, yellow smoke wolves, and magic maps, to save the world and his girl. (Oh yeah, this was a cool one. Based on a song, but I can’t remember which one.)

“The Stranger at the Door” Keith and Amber have lived with their grandmother for many years, but now they live alone and nobody knows. Then a strange girl arrives at the door. She claims they will have to leave town within 2 hours or risk being stuck in a quarantine zone. There will be traffic jams and other hindrances, so it's best to leave right now without taking anything with you. Unsure about everything, including this strange girl, the teenage boy disagrees to the proposal, if all this turns out to be true, this choice will seem foolish. His younger sister does agree. But what if this strange girl can't be trusted. Or what if all this is an elaborate trap. How could an ordinary teenage girl and boy end up in a situation like this. Time to find out. (Oh, a quarantine story? How long ago was this? 2017 I think.)

“The Beginning of the Hybrid Brothers” A backstory that shines a light on how Ralph the Rat-Man and Dr. Discord came to be evil. (YES, MY TWO VILLAINS NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT BUT ARE STILL DEAR TO MY HEART HNNNNNNNG.)

“Unnamed but same as the blank” A girl named, _____, lives in a family of nine. She and her mother are the only ones who aren’t “Morhumals”, or people who can turn into one animal. After the twins mess-up and send a “Morhumals” hunter after them, it is up to ___ and her sister, ____ to rescue them.

“Song of the Siren” ____ is back after her fourteenth birthday. She finally has received her animal and must follow her family to the mythed Siren hideout.

[brutcllysoft]

post-negotiations ft. @devilwomcn

setting: march 2015, reina’s office. 

ROWAN:

There is a pounding in the base of Rowan’s skull. She’s been sitting in three hours of contract negotiation and it’s clear that it’s taken it’s toll on her. Rowan’s been in this life since she was fifteen years old, catching her big break early into her teenage years and turning into an overnight sensation, her career skyrocketing higher than she ever could have believed before she was even eighteen years old. Her first year had been rocky, her mother standing in as both manager and mother but when she was sixteen Reina Savant made her appearance and it just feels like it’s been non-stop ever since then. In the best way, of course. Reina is single handedly responsible for making sure Rowan gets the absolute best version of every opportunity that has been thrown her way and even though they had started off rocky, they make a really, really good team. Though she’s hesitant to get completely on board with the latest idea the older woman has thrown at her.

Once upon a time she may have believed it to be a sneaky, double handed deal ---- something Reina would present as good for her, only later to reveal that it was actually going to hurt her now but have her thriving in the long run. But there is no denying that they’ve bonded over the last five years. How could they not? More often than not, they’re the only constant the other has. Reina’s always on the road with her, accompanying her to every inch of the world and fighting in her corner every step of the way. Rowan’s not sure she could ever put into words how much Reina has done for her, how much she feels like she owes her but she hopes she doesn’t have to. That Reina somehow just knows. The other party leaves the room and Rowan allows herself to slump in her chair, head lolling forward into her upturned hands, heels of her palms pressing against closed green eyes. “Tell me again that this is the right move,” she sighs quietly, looking again for a little reassurance. She looks up then, blinking away the array of colours in her vision from the pressure that had been there seconds earlier and her voice takes on a slightly sharper tone. “And why it had to be him of all people.”

REINA:

They’ve been sitting in a conference room all day it seems, going over the ins and outs of what Reina might call a deal with the Devil if she didn’t already claim that title for herself. It’s not exactly romantic, but then again a set up relationship filled with contract negotiations and a bunch of legal bullshit that Reina’s all too used to dealing with isn’t ever going to be considered the height of romance. She can tell Rowan’s just itching to make a run for it and to be fair, the older woman doesn’t really blame her. This isn’t what she signed up for, she should be able to just make music and do whatever the fuck she wants, but that isn’t the industry and Reina knows that all too well. Once they’re done and the lawyers are gone, she doesn’t miss the way Rowan immediately slumps in her chair, biting back a comment about good posture and how she’s going to start looking like shit in interviews if she keeps that up. Instead she grants the blonde her moment of distress, for once understanding how overwhelming this all must be.

Rowan’s quiet request for reassurance puts something in the pit of Reina’s stomach that she can’t quite place — maybe it’s guilt for pushing this, which is something she’s never felt before about a deal, or maybe she’s just afraid it is the wrong move and she’s setting Rowan up for failure — but either way, she knows better than to display anything but confidence when she answers. “It’s the right move,” she affirms, reaching out to squeeze Rowan’s shoulder lightly before retracting her hand like she’s just been burned. “You’re too goody-two shoes — too cookie cutter. Obviously you’re doing well but it wouldn’t hurt to expand your fanbase to people who don’t shit sunshine and daisies.” Which isn’t her entire fanbase, and of course Reina knows that, but it’s a pretty big chunk of it and if they ever want to move away from the Country Girl Barbie act, it’s going to be pretty damn hard to do without this publicity stunt and the kid that comes with it. Andrew Thane may be a nightmare in the press, but on paper he’s exactly the edge Rowan needs. “Trust me, I’m not all that thrilled about this match either, but we have an image in mind and he fits it. It’s just two years, Ro. In and out. Y’all don’t even have to see each other except in public.”

ROWAN:

Somehow even with Reina's reassurance, Rowan can't help but feel like this is a bad idea. Usually all it takes is one word from Reina and Rowan is all in. She's never lead her astray before, always proven to have her back and is the one person that Rowan can count on her being in her corner no matter what. So it would be easy to just lean into that reassurance and run with it --- she wants to. But Rowan is, at her core, a hopeless romantic. It's something the media has ripped into her about before, as if the string of boys she has dated is any longer than that of her male counterparts. The idea of devoting two years of her life to something fake and with Andrew Thane makes her feel like her skin is too tight. The fact that she'll be wasting some of the best parts of herself--- that big heart of hers that is so often getting her in trouble -- on something that isn't even real is a hard pill to swallow.

"Okay." She simply nods at Reina's reassurance, sighing and raking a hand through blonde locks. Reina's next words pull a laugh from her, a sound that's equally tired and full somehow; bordering right on the edge of being forced and genuine. "You don't think the teenage girl market is a good one anymore?" The reality is, the majority of her fan base a girls between the ages of 9 and 19 right now and while they're great -- she loves all of her fans, owes her success to them of course, but they've also all got parents willing to shell out big bucks with just a bat of their eyelashes -- she can't deny that it would be nice to appeal to an older, more mature audience as well.  Maybe it would help the industry treat her more seriously. "Two years is a long time," she points out with a tilt of her head. It's not that long in the big picture and she knows that there is a possibility of it flying by in a blink. "How badly are we going to get sued if we have to pull the plug early?"

REINA:

Even though the laugh that comes from Rowan isn’t quite genuine, it’s nice to hear nonetheless, and Reina’s relieved that despite her hesitation she’s not completely ill at ease with all of this. “Well it depends, are you hoping to make a deal with the Disney Channel any time soon? Because if not, I’d say it’s time we move on,” she jokes, because obviously she already knows Rowan’s got zero interest in that. She’s entering her twenties and it’s about that time when she’s still seen as a kid but should be treated like an adult, and Reina knows Rowan wants to be taken seriously as a musician rather than catering to a young demographic for her entire career. It’s best to move forward now while they can, and in Reina’s mind there’s no better way for her to do that than being associated with Andy Thane and his chronic inability to seem even remotely innocent.

The more Reina thinks about it, the more she’s convinced this move is right — but once glance at Rowan tells her the blonde isn’t quite there yet. She knows Rowan’s got a big heart and a lot of love to give, and the last thing Reina wants is for her to somehow get hurt from this, but she’s fairly certain that won’t be a problem with a jackass like Andy in the picture. If anything, she thinks an issue might come from how much Rowan dislikes him. “It isn’t so long. Just one album,” she counters, giving Rowan a nudge with her foot in return. The legal part of this deal has Reina cringing a little, though, and while she told herself early on that she’d never lie to Rowan, she doesn’t exactly want to tell her the full truth. “Badly enough that I think you’d much rather just stick the two years out.” Truthfully, Reina can’t imagine Chris pushing Andy to actually sue them, but she does think his label would and they’d at minimum be suing for any money he would have made from being in the tabloids with Ro — which is a lot, and another big reason Reina’s so adamant on doing this as well. “Think of it this way — when it’s all over, you can buy a nicer house up in the mountains and I’ll even let you tell the paps to fuck off whenever you feel like it. Perks of your new bad girl image, hm?”

ROWAN:

Reina’s joke lands where Rowan needs it to, and the laugh that follows though quiet is much more real. “I think we missed the boat on Disney. We should’ve cashed in on it a few years ago.” Though that has obviously never been part of their plan --- she’s had friends make a deal with that particular Devil and it isn’t something she has any interest in doing. Maybe six years ago before she’d gotten her big break -- there’s no denying that Disney is one hell of a way to break into the industry -- but not anymore. Reina’s gotten her better deals than any cartoon mouse ever could, and she doesn’t have to compromise who she is. At least, not entirely. Sure, she’s had to play up the small town southern girl act for the last few years, but it hadn’t always been an act. When she’d first been signed it was just who she was and now that she’s begun to evolve out of that and is looking to spread her wings and be taken more seriously and make moves in other directions, Reina is right there to make it happen ---- even if it’s happening in a way Rowan doesn’t fully understand.

Admittedly, when the idea of a fake relationship had been brought up, she had been completely against it. Rowan isn’t stupid and she knows herself --- she knows she sometimes jumps too soon, dives too deep and it’s gotten her burned in the past. Not to mention the media scrutiny it has landed her on more than one occasion. But as soon as Reina told her it would be with Andy Thane she knew that she’d be safe --- after just one interaction, she knows she can’t stand him and the possibility of actually falling for him is laughable. So between that and the airtight contract they’ve got laid out -- she tells herself it’s important to keep it professional, that the boundaries being on paper will make it impossible for her to cross them if she somehow ends up with a brain bleed and finds herself attracted to the man in question -- they’ll be pretty safe. But she’s still not thrilled about having to spend time with him and honestly, she’s worried. His reputation isn’t a good one and while she tries to see all of this from Reina’s perspective, to see that it will be good for them both she can’t help but worry being with someone like him is going to turn her already existing fan base against her. 

She nods when Reina mentions waiting it out, knowing she wouldn’t put herself or her manager and legal team through that kind of battle over a measly two years. She’s resilient and she can wait it out. And honestly, the mention of a new house in the mountains does make it sound a little more worth it. “You might never see me again then,” she teases, only partly joking. Obviously she’d never just up and disappear but there’s no denying she’s more comfortable when she’s out of the hustle and bustle of the city most days, finding comfort in the quiet and being around nature. Not to mention it’s nice to not have to worry about some idiot with a camera hiding outside her front gate. Which brings her to her next point, accentuated by a loud laugh. “I’m going to remind you that you told me that two years from now when you’re telling me I need to watch my mouth more.” While her squeaky clean image has her refraining from cussing, there’s no denying behind closed doors she has a potty mouth.

REINA:

Reina can see that even just in the last few minutes, Rowan’s easing up just slightly. She knows her girl like the back of her hand and where her body language was once tense and anxious, she’s now loosened up a little and that’s enough to put Reina’s mind at ease. The older woman understands Rowan’s uncertainty when it comes to this deal, these are unchartered waters they’re entering but Reina is going to do everything in her power to make sure the next two years go by as smoothly as possible without a single hitch. It’s time that Rowan steps out as more than just the girl next door, and Reina can’t think of a faster way to get her there than to have the world think she’s shacking up with America’s Most Wanted. There’s a part of Reina that secretly hopes Andy’s image is almost as cultivated as Rowan’s, though — that he isn’t as much of an asshole as everyone says, because not only does she not want Rowan getting hurt, she doesn’t want Rowan falling down the path he seems to be going down. She’s a good kid, always has been, but the temptation to become a Lindsay Lohan or a Paris Hilton has never really been there until now, and Reina can only hope that Rowan’s got a good enough head on her shoulders to avoid a mess like that.

Although she’s kidding, Rowan’s warning that she may disappear to the mountains and never come back makes Reina tsk, the disapproval of that plan evidently clear. Rowan loves what she does too much to ever do something like that, though, so she’s not actually all that worried. “A few fucks here and there might do you good, so I’ll let it slide.” Really, it’s a miracle in itself that Rowan’s never been caught swearing too badly because she’s got a mouth on her that rivals Reina’s own, and maybe that’d do her some good with the image reconstruction they’re going for. Checking her watch, Reina realizes she’s got another meeting coming up and Rowan’s got her own schedule to adhere to, but they’re not done here just yet and she’ll gladly push everything back if Rowan still needs to talk out her anxiety before they move forward. She shifts the papers scattered on the table before them into a neat pile, clearing her throat as she laces her hands together on top of them and fixes Rowan with a serious look. “I’m only going to tell you this once because it’s an absolute last resort, but if something happens and you do want to pull the plug, I’ll figure it out. I don’t want you stuck in this if you’re miserable, that’s not going to help anyone.” Not only will Rowan probably not be able to pull out a great album if she’s in a bad place, but it’ll fuck with her for the rest of her life and that’s exactly what Reina wants to avoid.

ROWAN:

Reina’s disapproval is apparent, but Rowan lets it roll off of her back. Normally she’s one who takes any criticism to heart, maybe sometimes a little too personally. But seeing as this is a result of something she’d said in jest --- something she would never in a million years do, she isn’t very worried. Years ago she never thought she’d find herself in a position like this. She’d been sixteen when she moved in with Reina and they began their  business arrangement, and she thought that was all it was ever going to be. They’d been awkward at first, with Rowan tiptoeing around the Nashville home in an attempt to stay out of the brunette’s way so she didn’t end up on the first flight back to Montana. And now Reina has come to be a presence that seems to automatically put her at ease, even in a situation as confusing and nerve wracking as this one. She doesn’t miss the way Reina checks her watch, though, and she does the same in return. Honestly her day is fairly laxed -- she’s got an interview in the morning and so today they aren’t doing much, but she knows Reina almost never has an easy day and she doesn’t want to keep her manager from taking care of her business just because she’s nervous. She’s a big girl, despite public opinion, she can ride this out and figure it out without needing someone to hold her hand the entire time. “Nothing is going to happen,” she frowns when Reina gives her that serious look, letting her know they can always pull the plug if she needs it.

“We’ll figure it out. I’m not worried.” Which is maybe the biggest lie she’s told in a while because she is very worried, but she doesn’t want to go down that road right now. Instead she clears her throat and moves to push her chair back. “I should get outta here before your next client shows up and starts complainin’ about you going over time with me.” There have been rumors about favouritism before and honestly, who else has Reina ever let into her home the way she has Rowan? But she doesn’t want to make waves at the office. "I'll see you tomorrow, right? Have a good night. Try not to make too many people cry today," she teases gently, giving one last smile.

[lunaracarberry]

Rona’s Journey

   Rona Ni'ess woke with the dawn to a glorious summer morning.  Her comfortable, somewhat burrow-like bedroom was lit up a pair of sun-chimneys reflecting light from the roof of her family's rof'orth. The building was one of the hillside house-compounds the Bilobi tribe commonly built as their dwellings, an elaborate but sturdy structure that housed the two dozen members of her family.  Rona's room, as all the unattached young adults in the family, was carved deep into the hillside where it was cool in the summer and warm in the winter.  The sun-chimneys allowed both light and air into the chamber, with screens to keep out the pests.  It was a safe and cozy space.    Rona was a young woman of average height for her tribe, with a slim and athletic body.  Her skin was a pale brown, albeit seasonally darkened, and her hair was long, black and thick.  She was naturally quite pretty, her quick smile and strikingly grey eyes complementing her toned, but still very female, form.   Rona yawned and stretched, and dressed herself.  Short leather breeches and a light hempen crop-top were suitable for the weather, as it was going to be quite warm quite soon.  Early summer was generally a warm and humid time in the rugged region that the rest of the world knew as the Solbanian Hills.    Rona ventured out to the bathroom first.  The Bilobi, like many of the Solbanian tribes, had incorporated a limited amount of the "civilized" technologies, one of those being the blessing of running water in their dwellings.  Other concepts such as glow-lights had not been embraced, the tribes choosing to use their metal resources to forge mainly weapons and tools.   The Bilobi were a practical and resourceful people, and being in a state of perpetual near-war forced them to focus on defense and armament above all else.    Out in the community area, various members of the family were already digging into a breakfast of jura, hearty cooked grains, the smell of sweet spices filling the room.   Rona procured a cup of strong tea and a dish of the jura; her mother Nona, working in the kitchen, gave her a wink and a smile in passing.  The matrons of the family took very good care of their flock, and were treasured for it; but Rona already knew that such a domestic life was not for her.      Finishing her modest breakfast, Rona left the dishes for the younglings to wash and ascended the stairs to the top balcony.  A couple of the elders were basking in the morning sun there.  One was her great-aunt, Mida, and her life-partner Yari sat beside her holding her hand.  Rona greeted them respectfully.  "Bright morning, sh'wenga."    Mida was an aged woman, but by no means infirm.  Short of stature, she was still physically solid and her hair had not yet turned completely white.  Rona was one of her favorite young people, and she smiled and held her hand out.  "How is our little scout today?  What are you up to, going out to steal some hearts, perhaps?"   Rona blushed a little at that.  Mida was always teasing her about how pretty she was, and how easily she would be able to sneak around and steal the boys' hearts away.  "No, sh'wenga, I've no time for such prey today.  I have some fishing to do."    "Fishing?!" Yari chimed in.  The tiny woman was still beautiful despite her hair being completely whitened by time.  "Well, don't forget your elders, if you catch a fine trout!"    Rona chuckled. "Of course not!  I know how much you like a good fried trout.  Is this clear sky going to hold up today, then?"    Yari nodded, eyes flicking toward the horizon.  "Nothing but sunshine today, dear.  A fine day for fishing, and swimming."    "Thank you, sh'wenga.  I will seek out a suitable place for such ventures." Rona touched the elders' hands with her fingertips and went downstairs for her equipment.     She filled her light pack with her fishing gear and a water flask, strapped on her weapon belt and her trusty tomahawk, and put on a sun hat to round out her ensemble.  At the house entryway, her uncle Darib was on guard, casually sharpening a knife.  He grinned at her cheerily and she gave him a quick hug.  A veteran warrior, Darib had been one of her teachers in the skills of weapons.      "Enjoy your day off, halita," Darib said as she sauntered out the door.   Rona waved and set out down the path, humming a tune to herself.    The songs of birds added counterpoint to her own as she walked, down the path to the main road and southward.  Soon she reached the bridge that crossed over the Callahee RIver, although it was more of a stream here close to the headwaters.  Up and over the next ridge the carefully paved path led, into the next valley where her friend Dugi lived.  It was not a long distance, just enough to stretch her legs.  She descended into a broad valley, where her friend's farm was built into the western hillside; one of many such structures lining the sides of the valley.    The farm itself was a series of well-built terraces, spreading from the house at the top all the way down to the stream at the bottom of the valley.  The path ran by the banks of the stream, and a ramp led up to the farmhouse at a gentle incline.  Rona ascended the ramp, spotting Dugi on one of the upper terraces, working the plants.  She called out a greeting. "Ho, Dugi!"    Dugi was a mountain of a man already, even though he was barely a month older than Rona.  His wide mouth split his bearded face with a smile when he saw her. "Ho, Rona!"    She made her way along the terrace walkway to where he was, surrounded by young squash plants.  "Whatcha up to today? I have the day off, want to go fishing?"    "Oh, now, that is a tempting thought indeed," Dugi chuckled.  "I need to finish clearing out these weeds before I can go, though."    Rona eyed the patch of plants he was working.  "Doesn't seem like too much of a chore.  How about I give you a hand and we can go all that much sooner?"    "That would be great!" The big man smiled again.  He was very easy-going and good-natured, and had been friends with Rona for most of their young lives.      With no further ado, Rona set aside her pack and joined in the work.  The fertile earth yielded the weeds easily, but the patch was large.  Dugi worked this farm alone most of the time, as his parents had passed away a few years before.  Despite his youth, Dugi was the sole proprietor of the farm and had already earned his full ranking of kagori, "plant-tender", an honored position in the tribe.  Among the Bilobi, a farmer was treated with the same respect as a warrior or a craftsman.    Before long, the patch was cleared of invasive plants and they were ready to go.  They went up to the farmhouse for a cup of cool mint tea and set off for the fishing hole.  Further up the valley, the paved trail gave way to a well-trodden path that led up onto a ridge before dropping back down into a wild, lush stretch of forest where the stream was slow and formed several large pools among ridges of black rock and large, ancient tree roots.      They spent the bulk of the morning there, enjoying the simple leisure of setting the lines, lounging in the soft summer grass, and trying to lure the wily fish out from under the banks with various lures and tactics.  When the heat became oppressive, they splashed around in the cool water and dried out in the sun.  It was not a hugely successful venture, as they only actually landed a couple of fish worth keeping.  Finally, hunger drove them to pack up their fishing rods and head back to the farmhouse to cook them properly.    The path over the ridge was lined with boulders and gnarled bushes sporting brilliant purple flowers.  Distracted and relaxed, Rona and Dugi were both startled at the appearance of two people on the trail ahead, rounding a bend along the highest point; they nearly collided with the two, who were going the other way.    Inri and Waro were a pair of boys who were not among Rona's favorite people.  A couple of years older than her, they had been pests and teases to many of the girls, in the callous way of boys.  They were both trained warriors now, and strutted like a pair of roosters, in Rona's opinion.  Inri had actually made sexual overtures to her only a couple of weeks before, but she had turned him down flat at his arrogant and entitled approach; leaving him red-faced in the road in front of several of his older compatriots, who had been quite amused at the turn of events.    "Well, well, well," Inri said, immediately reacting to the appearance of the two friends.  "Look what we have here, a sneak and a dirt-stirrer," he sneered.  Waro laughed, but his eyes were hard, calculating.   Rona's eyes narrowed at the tone.  "At least we do something useful, muscle-head," she retorted.    Inri barked a humorless laugh.  "Useful? Oh, you're going to see trouble coming, scout?  Then run back and hide behind the warriors?  Hardly useful." He spat.  "I can think of a good use for you, girl."  Waro laughed again, coarsely.    Dugi growled at that, his large hand clenching around his walking staff.  "You're barking up the wrong tree, lashka," he said.    Inri took a half step back, hand creeping up toward the hilt of his sword.  "Oh, you're going to claim her for yourself, dirt-stirrer?  I knew she had bad taste."    "Nobody's -claiming- me, meathead," Rona replied angrily. "I'm a free woman and I'll do what I want!"    Inri eyed her up and down and grinned lewdly. "Well, you should want to use that body of yours to make a warrior happy.  We're your protectors, after all.  Come on, just a tumble in the grass with me will show you the error of your ways."    "Hmmph.  In your dreams!  Why don't you just go play with yourself?  Don't get caught this time." Rona gave him a sneer of her own.  All of them knew about how the boy had been caught spying on the women's bathing pool the previous summer, and been soundly switched by the matrons all the way back to his family's home.    Inri's face contorted and grew red with anger.  "You little... I think it's time you learned some respect, bitch."  He drew his sword.    Rona had her tomahawk out in a flash, adrenaline surging as she shifted into a combat stance.  "Honorless cur!" she spat angrily.  "You have NO right!"    Waro drew his own sword, glancing sidewise at his partner.     "Subdue her," Inri ordered. "I'll take this fool dirt-stirrer apart!"  He whirled his sword confidently and advanced on Dugi. "Don't hurt her too much," he sneered disparagingly.    In a heartbeat Rona and her friend were fighting for their lives.  Time slowed to a seeming crawl as the two warriors moved in confidently, their superior weapons flashing in the sunlight.  Inri came in slashing at the farmer, who backed slowly, trying to fend off the blade with his stout staff.     Waro circled to come at Rona from her right side, sword-point moving in an infinity pattern, then stabbing at her in a series of quick thrusts.   Rona used her agility and speed to dodge away, spinning and trying to get a slash in with her shorter weapon, only to be forced back by the warrior's quick defense.    Inri pressed his attack, feinted high, then lunged forward and stabbed Dugi in the thigh when his staff was raised too high to deflect the blade.  The farmer grunted in pain, swinging hard even as the warrior spun away, blade flicking a stream of red droplets across the rocks.    It was all Rona could do to evade Waro's calculated attacks; she could spare hardly a glance to her ally's plight.  Waro was careful to keep his guard up even as he probed at her own defenses.    Dugi staggered momentarily, but kept his feet, roared with anger, and charged at Inri, his staff a whirling blur.  Suddenly the warrior was the one on the defensive, backing up quickly from the long-armed farmer, deflecting the staff mere inches from his face.  Inri tried to come in under the arc, but Dugi swung the staff lower, forcing the warrior to block again.  Wood chips flew from the force of the impact.  Dugi kept the momentum of the swing, however, sliding his hands further down the staff for extra reach as he put his substantial strength and mass into the strike.  Inri's attempt to back away and parry the blow were too little, too late, as the farmer's staff connected with the side of his head with a heavy thud.  The warrrior crumpled soundlessly to the ground.    Waro, meanwhile, continued his attacks, finally catching Rona on her non-weapon arm with a slash.  She cursed and dodged away.  He pursued relentlessly.    Then Dugi rushed at Waro from the side, thrusting the staff like a spear at the warrior's ribcage and forcing him to turn and defend himself.  Rona immediately attacked , blood running down her arm as she swung her tomahawk.  Waro parried her swing as he moved, trying to keep either of his opponents from flanking him.    They faced off momentarily, the warrior's eyes narrow and cold; the two friends bleeding, enraged.   Waro's gaze flickered toward his fallen comrade, but there was no emotion on his face as he moved into an aggressive sword-form, blade weaving intricate patterns as he attacked them.    Even outnumbered, Waro was a deadly, well-trained opponent, and for some time there was a desparate dance to keep his sword out of their bodies.  For a few long minutes, heavy breaths, guttural growls of effort, shuffling boots on gravel, and occasional clash of steel on steel were the only sounds to be heard.  Finally Rona was able to slide inside the warrior's guard and get a solid chop into Waro's abdomen, rolled away from his counterattack, and bounced back to her feet.      There was no pause as the warrior cursed and and lunged after her murderously.  She weaved away from the blade like a phantom, the edge cutting only air time and time again.  Dugi followed as best he could, swinging the staff until he finally caught the warrior's leg, sending Waro staggering and off balance.      Without hesitation, Rona pounced, kicking the warrior's sword arm aside, and at the same time swinging her razor-sharp tomahawk in a vicious downward chop into the side of Waro's neck.  She leapt away from his backhand slash, and he staggered back several paces, eyes widening as he clamped his off-hand to the wound.  Blood spurted through his fingers, spraying across the trail in a dramatic fountain for a few heartbeats before he fell; sword slipping from his nerveless fingers, he twitched, bled, and died.    Panting and wild-eyed, Rona and Dugi stood transfixed for a minute, gazing down on the bodies of the vanquished.  Finally Dugi staggered over to Inri and stooped to look closer.  "He lives."  He glanced over to Waro's body and looked away. "We're gonna have to summon the Council."   "Yeah." Rona regained her breath quickly, and her wits, although drenched in sweat. "Oh, my Goddess, you're hurt!"      Dugi leaned against a rock, blood seeping down his leg and coloring the dust beneath him.  "You are too.  It's not that bad.  Just need to wrap it with something for now."    Rona quickly bound the wound with one of her bandanas, and Dugi returned the favor on the shallow slash on her arm, which was also bleeding profusely.    Then she helped him to his feet and they continued their journey home, the farmer leaning heavily on his staff.    As they descended the path into the valley, the import of what had just occurred began to sink in.  They walked in silence, deep in thought as the shock of the violent encounter began to wear off.  Even the birds had grown silent in the oppressive midday heat.      They climbed the ramp up to the farmhouse, entered, and shed their burdens. Dugi sank gratefully into a cushioned chair, grimacing as he raised his leg onto a footstool.  "Damn, that stings."    "I'll go ask the neighbors to summon the j'sarka and the eshtale," Rona said.  She took a moment to wipe her face with a dampened cloth, then hurried over to the next household to ask their assistance.    The tribe's shaman and spiritual guide, j'sarka Miasa, was always available for the people in her community, or one of her trusted acolytes.  It was she who arrived first.  Rona was waiting at the door, too anxious to stay seated for long, even after the adrenaline of battle had worn off.       Miasa took one look at Rona's face and folded the girl into a giant hug. "Oh, Goddess, you poor dear!"  At that, Rona burst into tears.  Miasa held her close, stroking her hair and soothing her while she wept.    After a few moments, Rona composed herself and Miasa took a look at their wounds.  She clucked her tongue at the damage, but did not comment.  She invoked the Goddess and cast healing magic on them both, erasing the physical damage of the fight as if it never had been.    Soon afterward, the eshtale ascended the path to the farmhouse.  The eshtale was the designated peacekeeper of the day, a duty which rotated among all the senior warriors of the tribe.  Today's eshtale was Oriv, and he had brought one of the junior warriors with him to bear messages.      Oriv bore the ceremonial rod of the office, an ornately carved hardwood stick with a bright blue gemstone imbedded in one end where the Osinagi tree had grown around it.  It was widely thought that the rod gave the eshtale the ability to detect lies.  "What crime has been committed?" Oriv intoned formally.    Rona answered just as formally. "I have killed a member of my tribe, eshtale."    Oriv's face grew grave, and the junior warrior gasped, eyes growing wide.  "Where did this happen?" Oriv asked.    Rona told him, and the junior warrior was sent running to get more help.    Oriv separated the two friends and asked them what had happened, first Rona, and then Dugi.  Miasa bore witness to the inquiries.  By the time they were done telling their stories, a squad of warriors had arrived to assist the eshtale in fetching the fallen.  "The council will hear the testimony, and send for you when they've made their decision," Oriv announced, and away they went.    Miasa went with them, after giving the farmer a hug and a word of praise for his courage and honor, and a motherly kiss on the forehead for Rona.  "It's going to be okay, honey.  One way or another.  Come see me when the ruling is made, and we will ask the spirits to give you guidance."     They spent the afternoon mostly in quiet reflection.  Rona cleaned and grilled the fish they had caught, and Dugi made wondrous herbal salad, and they feasted.  Afterward, they laid down in the cool depths of the farmhouse and rested, although neither was able to fall asleep.      Just before sunset, a messenger boy arrived to summon them before the Council.

   The Council was composed of nine heads-of-households, six women and three men.  Rona's father Jorjio was one of the men, and when Rona and Dugi entered the ceremonial Council chamber, his was the first face she sought.  Impassive at first, when their eyes met, the warrior gave her the slightest of smiles before returning his expression to neutrality.      Miasa was there, of course, and the eshtale announced their entrance, as per custom, as they took their place upon the central pedestal.  "Rona of clan Ni'ess, stands on the charge of causing the death of a tribe member. Dugi of clan Ketall, stands on the charge of assault upon a tribe member."    Olika, the eldest of the Council, stood and addressed them directly.  A strikingly beautiful woman despite a half-century of life, she met their gazes levelly as she pronounced the judgement of the Council.    "We have heard the testimony from the eshtale, and the verification of the witness to the testimony.   This is a sad day for the Bilobi in many ways."    "One family has lost a son, and another has brought shame upon himself.  As you are entitled to defend yourselves, Dugi of clan Ketall, you are absolved of wrongdoing."  Olika turned her eyes to Rona.  "You are entitled to self-defense as well, Rona of clan Ni'ess.  However, there is now a blood debt  to be paid to the family of the man you killed today."    Rona lowered her eyes in acceptance of the judgement.  All the tribe's children were emphatically and thoroughly taught the rules and laws that they were expected to live by, so it was no surprise.  Neither were the councilwoman's next words.    "To pay this blood debt, Rona of clan Ni'ess, you are hereby banished from the lands of the Bilobi for a year and a day, beginning in two days at sunset.  Make sure you are beyond our borders at that time."  She sat down.    The eshtale turned to the pair and waved the rod.  "Do you accept this judgement?" He asked.    "Yes, eshtale, they said, almost in unison.    Oriv tapped the ceremonial gong with the rod of office.  The rich sound vibrated through the room, and it was over.

   They exited, and after a few moments, Jiorji caught up with them outside the chamber.  He gave his daughter a quick hug and motioned for them to follow him back to the Ni'ess rof'orth.      In the darkening twilight hour, people were going back and forth at various tasks and errands, the lamplighters sparking up intermittent candles along the pathways.  It was a pleasant summer evening, and the sounds of music, laughter, and banter echoed from the various households they passed.   Several young people hurried by, on their way to an evening training session in the Weapons yard, saluting the Council member politely.    They reached the house, and came inside to a warm welcome.  Rona could immediately smell her mother's signature cheese-covered flatbread baking, Rona's most favorite food.  Her mouth immediately began to water even as her eyes started to fill with tears.  Her mother and aunts gathered around her in a warm enveloping of sympathy.    Jorjio turned and clasped Dugi's hand in the traditional warrior manner.  "Thank you, kagori.  You are a fine and honorable man, to defend my daughter's life and freedom as you did.  Words cannot say enough how grateful we are for your courage and strength!"      Darib, the councilman's brother-by-marriage, stepped forward and offer the farmer a hand-clasp as well, then handed him an ornate weapon.  It was a war spear of great quality, with a long metal-shod haft and a foot-and-a-half-long double-edged blade of a peculiar silvery hue. Rona noticed the transaction and involuntarily gasped.  The spear was one of the family's greatest treasures, and had been a family heirloom for many generations.  "Take this gift, friend, and know that you can count on us if you are ever in need of help.  May it serve you and your descendants well, should you ever find your life threatened again."    Dugi turned the spear over in his hands, eyes wide with awe.  "Thank you..." he looked around the room at the gathered family, and bowed somewhat awkwardly.  "Thank you, all of you.  I will treasure this weapon."    Everybody wanted to hear the story, so they told it together as best they could.  The children ooh'ed and aah'ed at the description of the fight, especially Rona's little sister, Nuni.  A girl of only seven, she felt inspired enough to demonstrate some kicks and punches at an imaginary foe while they told about the battle, which made everyone chuckle.      There was a general consensus among the family that the blood spilled was justified, and the ruling of exile was somewhat unfair, but the law was the law.  The rules were in place to prevent the tribe from internal conflicts and power struggles, and a millenium-long tradition of sustained self-government gave the free people of the Bilobi great respect and trust in those rules.  Rona would be exiled for a year and a day, and her family would send her off as prepared and educated as they could possibly make her.    Dinner was served and the family ate with gusto.  The family was a whirlwind of caring and compassion around Rona, and she savored it while she could.      After the delicious meal, various musical instruments were produced, and the family sang some songs together.  Rona's father brought out a bottle of fine spirits and poured a round of drinks for anyone that wanted one.  The first glass, however, he handed to his daughter. When they were all distributed, he raised his hand for a moment of silence.    "A salute, dear ones, for my brave daughter Rona.  She has proved her commitment to freedom today!  And whatever the laws say, she will never be outcast from MY heart."  With that, he lifted his glass and they all shouted "Hai-ai!" together and drank.    The fiery liquor quite took Rona's breath away for a moment.  Someone started a drumbeat, and the family launched into a traditional tribal song celebrating those who had fallen in the cause of freedom.    After a few more songs, some individual dances, and another round of drinks, and some luscious berry-cake dessert, the family began seeking their bedrooms, and Rona was no exception.  The drinks had made her a bit dizzy; but when she lay down, she quickly drifted off to sleep.        Her dreams were troubled.  She woke several times during the night from dreams of fighting, killing, and being hunted.  Finally she drifted off for a final time and slept peacefully, the whispered voices of a prayer echoing through the quiet house, or her dreams, or both.

   It was mid-morning when Rona awoke to the smell of tea.  She opened her eyes to see her little sister holding a cup next to her bed.  Nuni smiled, "Mama said you needed this."    "Ha! She is right, as usual," Rona sat up and accepted the cup, drinking deeply.  "I slept in, it seems."    After some breakfast and some conversation, Rona put on her sun hat and headed up the valley to the sacred grove to see the j'sarka.      Nestled into an elevated box canyon on the west side of the valley, the grove of OsinagiI trees was a place of almost unearthly beauty.  The stairs leading up to it were artistically carved from the solid rock, as was the temple itself, in the south wall of the box canyon.  Miasa herself came out to greet her on the wide patio in front of the temple.  This ceremonial area was paved intricately in a geometrical design, worn smooth by dozens of decades of dancing.  It was a familiar and special place to most of the residents of the community.  Rona had danced in the moonlight many times here.    Miasa welcomed her into the temple and led her back to the inner sanctum.  It was cool and comfortable inside the solid stone.  The priestess directed Rona to the purification bath, where a great tub carved directly into the stone stood steaming and ready.  Miasa left her there to cleanse herself and change into one of the soft white robes that hung ready by the door.  From there, Rona entered the prayer room and knelt before the altar, a supplicant.    Miasa emerged from a room behind the altar, clad in a ceremonial ensemble of silver jewelry, including an ornate tiara, and a wispy white robe that barely concealed her lithe brown body.  She paused by the altar and rang a silver chime.  Its pure tone filled the silence. She knelt before Rona and offered her a small cup.  "Let us pray, and ask the Goddess to give you visions."    Rona took the cup carefully, raised it in salute to the altar, and drank.  The liquid was sweetened with honey, but even that could only partially mask the bitterness of the karana root tea.  She finished it dutifully and handed the cup back to Miasa, who rose and returned to the room from which she had come.    After a moment the priestess returned, and gestured for Rona to move to one of the prayer mats she had already laid out on the shiny grey-green-tiled floor.  They spent the next half-hour moving through the ritualistic stretches and poses of the Centering exercises.     Rona began to feel queasy and sat back, trying to concentrate on her breathing.  "I feel faint," she said.  She was having a hard time focusing.    "Lay down," Miasa said.  Rona did so, and the priestess knelt beside her, passing her hands over the girl.  "Hmm..." She then whispered a prayer and gently cradled Rona's head in her warm hands.      The heat from Miasa's hands seemed to infuse Rona from her head, rippling through her until her entire body felt warm and glowing.  The nausea and ill feeling swept away, replaced by a deep sense of comfort and well-being.  She closed her eyes and slipped into a trance.      The steady light of the lanterns in the prayer room faded away to a faint glow, and then somehow she opened her eyes and was gazing up at the midday sky.  The sun was bright, but she felt fearlessly compelled to look straight at it, and its light seemed illuminating instead of blinding.  She gasped at the unexpected beauty.  Then rainbows radiated from the orb, bending and curving into complex patterns.      A flicker of movement distracted her, and she moved her perception to another patch of sky.  A barely-discernable shape was flying there; but when she concentrated, she could see clearly a sinuous winged creature.  She recognized immediately a Sriwi'ani, a dragon of the Air, and felt a little thrill of joy at seeing one for the first time in her life.    She watched the dragon as it glided in a slow figure-eight, then descended to a craggy ridge of stone.  Her perception moved toward the ridge, approached the cliff, and then tilted upward as if she were flying herself.  Then she was on top of the ridge, and the rays of the setting sun were painting the sky in colorful hues.  Beyond the ridge was another higher ridge, and as she ascended, winged people launched from cliffs above and floated dreamily around her.      Atop the cliff she came upon a beautiful little meadow, full of tiny yellow flowers.  She lay her presence down there and looked up to the darkening sky.  Stars grew brighter as the sun's light faded.    Flickering light drew her attention.  Beyond the mountains to the east, she could make out a massive storm cloud, dark and menacing, lit by lightning within and around it.  An undercurrent of foreboding touched her at the sight.  The storm seemed unnatural and out of place for some reason.    From somewhere nearby she heard someone giggle merrily, then a sweet and melodic voice began singing, in words that she could not understand, but seemed familiar somehow.  Rona had the impression of a silhouette of a woman sitting on a rock nearby, moonlight shining behind her.  The sky, the mountain, the plants, all began to glow, and the stars were connected by rainbows.  As a complex pattern began to be seen, light filled her vision completely, and she heard the sound of a silver chime.  She opened her eyes and was back in her body, lying safe on the prayer room floor.    Miasa approached her and knelt beside the prayer mat.  "How do you feel?"    "Good," Rona replied, sitting up.      "What did you see?" The priestess handed her a cup of water, which Rona drained.    Rona described her vision as best she could.  Miasa listened carefully, nodding and smiling at the girl's words.      "Truly a blessed vision.  The omens are showing you a path.  I think you should go and stay with the Sky People.  They will welcome you and it will be a safe place to live during your exile."  The priestess frowned a little in thought.  "The storm... I do not know what that means.  I'm sure it signifies something important, but that is not an immediate concern.  It seems to be something that you will be involved with somehow.   You will discover its meaning, with time."    Rona nodded slowly, the vision still strong in her mind's eye.  "Thank you, Miasa.  I will prepare for my journey."

   On the stairs down from the sacred grove, Rona saw a pair of women ascending.  Rona knew them both; Chira and Usia were the mother and aunt of Inri, and Rona paused when she recognized them, unsure of their reaction.  They saw her and continued up the stairs to her position.    Chira was a tall, strong woman with long mahogany-colored hair flowing from under her black sun hat.  She wore black clothing and her face was grave as she ascended the last few stairs to where Rona was standing.  "Well met, Rona of clan Ni'ess."   "Matron," Rona replied warily, nodding in return.    Chira gazed at Rona for a moment, studying the girl's face.  "I am sorry for the shame my son has brought upon our house, young one." She paused and looked at her sister beside her.  Usia reached out and squeezed her hand in encouragement.    "This is not the way a warrior is supposed to behave.  We did not teach him this... disrespect."  Chira raised her gaze and met Rona's eyes.  "I fear that my son has been listening to some tainted follower of the cursed path of Azhilo."  She spat to the side at the name as if she had tasted something foul.      "My son has been sent to the northern border to spend time at an outpost, where hopefully he will learn some humility and appreciation for his life." She paused, looking down again. " I will not speak his name until your exile is over.  Because of his arrogance, his friend is dead, and he will need many years before he regains his honor in my eyes."    Rona let out a quiet sigh of relief.  "Your words lighten my spirit, Matron."    Chira took the last two steps up to the girl and embraced her.  "Be well, young one, and I wish you a safe and pleasant journey, wherever you end up going."    "Thank you," Rona whispered, returning the hug.  "May the Goddess smile upon you and your family."

   Back at the Ni'ess rof'orth, Rona spent the rest of the day assembling her equipment and packing her possessions for storage.  One of the younger ones would take her bedroom.  There was a sense of finality to the process that Rona could not shake.      The future was always murky, but it was clear that this was the ending of her childhood and the beginning of something entirely different.  It made her somewhat sad, but also determined to face the changes with her head held high.   The prospect of travelling beyond her tribe's lands to the mountainous hold of the M'Chal was exciting and scary at the same time.    When the tasks were done, there was a last evening with her family, filled with laughter and joy, and a few tears as well.  One last night in her home, lying awake for much of it.  Rona managed a few hours of sleep before dawn.  Her little sister awoke her again, and it was time for her journey to begin.

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   It was another beautiful summer day, albeit with a heaviness to the air that promised rain in the afternoon.  Rona set off at a good pace, for she had some distance to cover to make it to the edge of her tribe's lands.  Up over the first ridge she went, following the same path she had taken to the swimming hole two days before.  At the site of the battle, a familiar figure stood, lit by the first rays of the sun.    "Hail, Rona," Dugi called.  "I thought you'd be passing this way."    She jogged up and embraced him, her pack and weapons making it somewhat awkward.  He held the heirloom spear in one hand as he enfolded her in his massive grip.  They stood that way for a long moment.        Finally Dugi released his grip.  "You had better go.  Luck be with you, my sweet friend.  You'll be brave.  You always are."    Rona smiled, even though tears were welling in her eyes.  "Be well, my friend, until we meet again."  She trotted away.    Up the valley she went, past the swimming hole, over a bridge and up the larger ridge to the east.  From there the trail led south again, along the top of the ridge.  She passed a couple of guardposts before the trail descended again, cutting slightly east to proceed along a craggy slope leading down the the river valley far below.  Rona stayed alert by habit, even though there was little danger to be found in this well-watched area of her tribe's lands.      The view from the trail was magnificent. The wide forested valley to the east was frequented by Bilobi hunters and berry-gathering parties.  The tribe claimed the land all the way to the river.      To the southeast rose the magnificent stony ridge of the Blackspur Ridge.  A sheer granite cliff in many places, the ridge rose a dizzying thousand-and-a-half feet above the forest slopes beneath, only to be crowned by a second, smaller ridgeline of streaked black rock, that rose nearly as high again.  Wisps of clouds drifted about the taller, spikier peaks. There was Rona's goal; the home of the M'Chal.    Around mid-day she stopped and feasted on some of the cheese bread her mother had wrapped for her.  Clouds were starting to form above her, so she took advantage of the intermittent shade and made as much progress as she could before the rain began.      As the first drops fell, she stopped and took off her equipment.  She rolled out her rain cloak and attached it to her backpack, also wrapping it around her bow and quiver.  She put her equipment back on, the cleverly designed cloak hooding her face and wrapping around to buckle in the front, easily released if one needed to shed it quickly.  The waterproof oiled hide was light but durable, and the cloak was designed to double as a makeshift tent as well.  She continued as the summer storm drenched the thirsty land around her.  The trail was neatly paved here, so mud was not a problem, and she stayed dry and comfortable under the cloak.    By mid-afternoon she was approaching the southeast border outpost. A squat stone tower stood on a narrow ridge, the trail running to the mouth of  a tunnel which had been carved through the ridge underneath it.  The massive doors were open, and as Rona approached, a guard stepped out from the shade to greet her.   "Hail, askuri," he said, using the formal title of a blooded scout of the Bilobi.  "I am Olfor.  We've been expecting you."   "Well met, Olfor," she replied, touching her palm to his in the traditional greeting.    "Your uncle sent word that you would be passing this way.  Come, set down your things and have a drink.  I'll fetch the shiragi, he will want to speak to you."  He directed her into a side room where there was a couple of benches, and a table that held a pitcher of fruit-sweetened water and several glasses.  The drink was blessedly chill compared to the warm water in Rona's waterskin.    The shiragi, leader of the oupost, was an older warrior called Gyrag, known to Rona as a friend of her father and uncle.   He entered the room and gave Olfor a nod.  The other warrior leaned on the wall outside the door casually keeping watch.    "Hail, Rona.  Darib informed me that you're heading up the Blackspur."  Gyrag spread out a map on the table.  "Now I'm sure you've studied some maps already, but I'll just point a couple of things out to you.  Once you exit the gates on the east side of this outpost, you are officially outside of our tribe's lands.  I recommend finding somewhere to camp tonight in this area above the springs." He pointed to where the springs were marked, then indicated the trail to the base of the cliff.  "That way you can start up the trade-trail in the morning.  It's the safest way up to the top of the lower cliff, and the M'chal patrol it frequently."    He pointed to where the trail began its ascent, skirting a fair-sized lake at the base of a deep ravine.  "The trail is narrow along the lakeside, so you will want to be especially wary there.   It's a good place for an ambush.  Further up the chasm, there are many stretches of trail that are exposed to view from above and below, but there are places for a tricky askuri like yourself to elude any problems there. "    "Once you reach the top of the lower cliff, the High Forest will be a more open terrain.  The Sky People will keep close watch on this area.  You're likely to see some of them flying around on their false-wings."  Gyrag pointed to a cleft in the upper cliff.  "Here there is the main trail up to the M'Chal lands.  Once you are in that rift, you will likely be under constant observation by M'Chal lookouts and under their protection there, as well."    The warrior turned his eyes to meet Rona's. "There are always Z'Krol raiding parties lurking around the base of the Blackspur.  They are, as always, the greatest threat.  Especially to a lone female.  You would be a prize indeed, young one, so take great care."      Rona nodded somberly.  "I will, shiragi," she promised.      "I know you have been trained well, askuri.  Be as a ghost.  And whatever happens..." Gyrag put a hand on her shoulder, voice grave, "DON'T let them take you alive if they find you."

   Rona set out from the east gate at a trot, feeling refreshed.  The air was cooler from the rain and a light breeze across the top of the hills made the journey pleasant.  Rona followed the trade trail for a half mile or so before leaving the trail on the north, downslope side.  She followed game trails, picking her way carefully eastward as the afternoon wore on.  It was slow travel, as she took pains to walk over rock and gravel where she could, to conceal her trail.  Nonetheless, she reached the vale where the springs flowed a good hour before sunset.    She found a promising niche between a couple of large boulders and set up her bedroll there.  She took her weapons down to a pool and quickly bathed, reveling in immersing her body in the cool, fresh water.  She refilled her waterskin, and as twilight gathered, ate the last of the bread with some dried fish and some wild grapes she found nearby.    After her eyes adjusted to the starlight, Rona took a final scouting trip in a rough circle around her campsite, moving quietly from one vantage point to another, waiting and watching for a bit, then moving on again.  The area was full of the early nocturnal activity of numerous animals, but nothing threatening.  She returned to her spot, and used a leafy branch to brush her tracks from the sand as she backed into her niche and used the branch to further conceal her hiding place.  Then she snuggled up in her blanket and drifted quickly into sleep, spurred by both her exertions of the day and her deprivation of the night before.   Rona awoke in the night, an indeterminable amount of time later.  She lay, breathing quietly, listening; she was unsure what had woke her.  After a moment, an insect began chirping nearby.  She turned over quietly and watched the clearing beyond her leafy camoflauge.  The hair rose on her neck as she saw a shadow moving through the trees stealthily.  In a patch of stronger starlight, she made out a human figure, a large one, moving extremely quietly across the uneven ground.      She carefully unsheathed her tomahawk as she continued to watch.  The shadow paused a few yards away, then a dim light shone on the ground nearby.  In the reflected light, Rona could see a man, holding a smalll incandescent object with which he was examining the ground in a wide swathe, obviously looking for tracks.  Concealed in shadow, Rona was not in danger of being seen, and she remained lying perfectly still as the man investigated, then the light switched off.  After a moment the shadowy figure moved on, creeping through the forest toward the spring Rona had bathed in earlier.    She stayed there, motionless but alert, for quite some time.  The blood seemed to boil in her veins at the thought of an enemy scout venturing so close to her tribe's lands.  She considered following him and ambushing him, but there was no telling if he was alone.  It was a risk not worth taking, she decided, and lay quiet until the adrenaline faded.  Sleep was a long time coming.    Soon after dawn, Rona awoke, feeling rested and lively.  She carefully emerged from her niche and did a quick circuit to assess her surroundings, bow strung and ready.  All was quiet.  She relaxed a bit, and prepared for the day.      Before she set out, she looked for the trail of the intruder.  With a keen eye for the signs that even an experienced woodsman would leave, Rona quickly found where he had passed, and followed the trail down to the pool.  From there the man had gone west, then turned back to the south, towards the trade trail.  She decided that heading due east was the best route to avoid him, and proceeded that way after returning for her pack.    Through the rocks, meadows, and trees she went; moving quickly, but cautiously avoiding clearings and ridgelines where she could be seen from further upslope.  The only creatures she encountered were a family of deer that she startled, who bounded away quickly when they caught her scent.      Soon the land became steeper, and she found a narrow valley to ascend to the trade-trail just before it met the shadow of the cliffs.  She could see the trail pass over a small ridge, beyond which the gigantic cleft loomed.  She trotted along the trail and quickly passed over the ridge into the valley at the base of the cleft, which was filled with a wide, deep lake.    As Gyrag had said, the trade-trail was carved into the rocky ridge alongside the west bank of the valley, with very little in the manner of cover, especially further into the defile.  The lake itself was possibly the only escape route.  Rona took a few deep breaths as she unstrapped her bow and strung it.  Holding the bow and an arrow in one hand, she took off at a quick pace, striving for a balance of speed and silence.    Deeper into blessed shade, the air still held a refreshing coolness.   A few birds chirped in the cliffs above the trail, but that was the only discernable sound for some time, until Rona began to hear the muffled roar of the waterfall at the innermost end of the canyon.      The lake narrowed quickly as she penetrated the canyon, until there was only a stone's throw separating the walls.  The trail itself was carved into the solid rock of the cliff at this point, and even underneath an enormous overhang for a long stretch, making it feel cave-like.  As she emerged into the canyon beyond the overhang, Rona rounded a corner to see the trail begin to rise ahead, a steep slope up to a spur of rock.  She ascended to this point and paused to assess the path ahead.    Instinctively crouching by a boulder, Rona scanned the trail and the steep slope above her to the west.  She could see where the trail switched back ahead, and glanced upward to get a feel for where it ascended.   Just then, a flicker of movement drew her attention ahead, to where the trail turned.    She froze as she saw the figure of a man - no, two men - approaching the first switchback ahead of her.   They moved with the quick and furtive pace of hunters, which immediately alerted her suspicions.  She drew closer to the boulder and pulled the edge of her rain cloak down to disguise her profile.  At this distance, in the deep shadow of the cleft, they would be hard-pressed to see her if she stayed still.   She watched, motionless, as they rounded the switchback.  The rearmost stopped for a quick view of the trail behind them before continuing.    Rona watched carefully upslope, trying to catch a glimpse of the hunting party on the trail above and ahead of her.  From the angle she had, there was only a couple of places where she saw movement.  Taking a deep breath, she started up the trail herself, staying quiet, as close to the slope as possible.  Her adrenaline rode high, and she grasped her bow firmly as her senses sharpened.  She stalked.  Rona had done some hunting in her life, but never for a prey as dangerous as this.    At the switchback she quickly darted around the corner and continued up the path.  As she had suspected, the trail was wide and well-built, and she was able to move quickly and close to the wall.  Her eyes were constantly moving from the trail ahead, to the slope above her, ears alert for any sound of her quarry.   She was quite confident that they had no warning of her presence, and took great care to maintain that status.    As she drew closer to the next switchback, she heard low voices from the trail above.  She froze, next to a good portion of steep wall, and listened intently.  Quiet footsteps, and then another low mutter, too faint to distinguish any words.  When she could no longer hear footsteps, she continued.    After the next switchback, the trail rose more steeply, even having broad stair-steps at a few points.  The trail rounded a ridge and continued deeper into the canyon, much further than the first switchback.  Here the path was built on the steep jagged slope of some ancient avalanche, overgrown with vines and a few stubborn trees and punctuated with massive boulders.  The cliff wall high above was broken, and Rona knew that the trade trail would ascend to the Upper Forest there.    She continued trailing them cautiously, wary of the increasing light as the trail rose higher.  The roar of the waterfall was closer here, making subtle noises unhearable.  The trail wound around boulders and crossed the path of a small rivulet before switching back again.  The trail reversed directions four more times before Rona caught another glimpse of the others.    There was a bridge across the trench dug by the little stream here, and when Rona saw it up ahead, she also noticed a man crouched in the shadow just beyond.  He was holding something up to his eyes, a short object pointed toward the cliff on the opposite side of the great cleft.  Rona froze in place, and slowly flattened as she slid back around the tree she had just passed.  Just in time, as the man turned the viewtube in her direction. On the ground already, she concealed herself fully.  Heart pounding, she waited for twenty breaths before peeking again.    The man had put away his viewtube and was relieving himself over the edge of the trail.  Rona relaxed slightly.  When he was done, he picked up his pack and continued, as did she.    After three more switchbacks, the trail was nearly high enough to be exposed to the full light of the sun.   The trail was rapidly shortening between the switchbacks as it grew close to the top of the cleft.  Rona spotted her quarry crossing the rivulet again - two men, this time, not looking her way.  She stayed in the shade of boulder until they disappeared, then followed.   Now that she knew where they were, she closed the gap a bit, stealthily moving from vantage point to another.  So when they stopped, she stopped as well, and found a friendly clump of vegetation to hide behind while she watched them.    The two men had found a deep niche alongside the trail, and were busy setting up some sort of equipment there.  One of them strung a wire across the path, drove a spike into the rock on the downslope side, and attached the wire to it.  He then lay the wire on the path and concealed it carefully under gravel and dust.  The other end went into the niche, where Rona could not see from her angle.  The other man was doing something else in the niche at the same time.       After a bit, Rona noticed something very unusual - a hint of movement in the air further along the trail, a slight blurring quite unlike anything she had ever seen before.  Blinking, she studied the optical effect intently.    Suddenly, the blur opened from the center, revealing a man standing in the path near the niche.  Rona nearly gasped at the unexpected sight.  The man was large, very large, and bore the ritual scars of the Z'Krol.  He shrugged off the robe he was wearing, which she could see clearly from the inner side as he lay it over a nearby rock.  It was an eerie and disconcerting sight to see him appear from seeming nothingness.  He disappeared into the niche.    After a short time, the man stepped back onto the path and wrapped himself in the transparency cloak again.  Rona could see that it was a long robe, brushing the ground, with a fitted hood that covered everything but the man's eyes.  He pulled the robe closed in the front and fastened it, and was virtually invisible once again.  Only his eyes were visible, and only when they were briefly turned in her direction.  Then the slight blur was the only sign of his presence, as he moved away further up the trail.    Soon afterward, a blur drew Rona's attention in that direction again.  The process was repeated, although this was a different man.  After a brief interlude, he too donned his transparency robe and moved up the path.    Rona tried to interpret the situation as best she could.  A group of at least four Z'Krol warriors, encroaching on the territory of the Sky People, setting an ambush on the path; while two of them were using some sort of invisibility magic to conceal their invasion into the Upper Forest.  She could think of several possible objectives for a raiding party such as this, and it stirred her blood with anger.    Determined, she set a course of action.  She would bypass the ambush site, cross the Upper Forest, and head for the final ascent to the home of the Sky People.  That path would be guarded, she was sure.   Rona looked for a place to ascend to the next level of the trail, making sure to stay out of sight.  She soon found a promising-looking crack, unstrung and stowed her bow, and started to climb.    The crack soon dwindled to nothing, and Rona was forced to climb on the open rock.  To make matters worse, she was fully exposed to the sun and quickly found herself flagging from the exertion of climbing.  She found a somewhat secure foothold where she could rest for a few minutes, and take a drink of water, before continuing.    After a few more grueling minutes, she reached the trail, where she found a bit of shade under a tree and gratefully shed her pack.  She wiped her face with a cloth, and restrung her bow.  Just as she lifted her pack, she heard the scuffle of footsteps from down the trail.    Even though alarmed, she finished putting the pack on and buckling it securely, then picked up her bow and calmly nocked an arrow.  There was nowhere to hide here.  The two men from the ambush site rounded the turn as she stepped out into the trail, drew and fired in one swift motion.  Her aim was true, the arrow striking the first man in the middle of the chest, but his leather breastplate stopped most of the impact.  He was more surprised than hurt, but bellowed once and staggered back, his companion cursing and ducking for cover as Rona nocked another arrow.    A long moment passed while Rona tried to get a clear shot at the warriors; and they scrambled back, one fumbling for weapons and the other trying to pull the arrow out of his breastplate and his flesh, and both trying to find cover.  The unwounded one finally rose, bow in hand and murder in his eyes.  Rona's arrow left her bow a split second before his did, grazing one arm and cutting a bloody furrow on the way by.  His arrow she barely avoided, twisting to the side as the breeze from its passing tugged at a stray strand of hair.  Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she shifted her balance and drew another arrow.      Again Rona was quicker than her opponent.  This time her arrow struck true, piercing his leather leggings and the thigh beneath.  His concentration was not broken, but his arrow whistled through empty air as the girl lowered and flattened her profile.    The other warrior came charging then, holding a sword and a shield high as he leaped past his comrade, his pierced breastplate apparently abandoned, and sprinting toward Rona.    She immediately whirled and fled, ducking instinctively as another arrow flew through the space she had occupied just an instant before.  Accelerating to full speed in a few steps, Rona ran for her life, the pounding footsteps of the warrior growing louder behind her.    Encumbered by the pack on her back and the bow in her hand, Rona could hear him getting closer.  Eyes on the trail ahead, she reached the next switchback only a scant few yards ahead of the warrior and cut the corner as closely as she could.  She gained a couple of steps with the turn, as the man's greater bulk took him on a slightly more rounded trajectory.  The man's companion was limping along some distance behind, and Rona caught a glimpse of him drawing bead on her as she raced up the trail.  The arrow passed behind her as she pushed herself to run faster than she had ever run in her life.    The trail turned again and wound upwards into the cleft at the top of the mountainside, the slope more gentle here.  The race continued; the warrior's longer legs giving him the advantage on the straighter parts, while the scout's agility gave her better ability to maneuver around the frequent twists and turns.  Even so, he gained a couple of paces on her as they ascended the narrowing valley, not letting up his chase in the slightest.    Time stretched for Rona, each pounding step she ran calculated and executed perfectly.  Ahead, she knew, there would be the others, the cloaked ones, and they would likely be on or near the path itself.  Her eyes scanned incessantly, alert for any visual abnormalities that would give away their presence.  The trail broke the crest and she was suddenly on the massive plateau of the Upper Forest.  The path smoothed and began curving to the left;  Rona immediately saw the disadvantage for her on this stretch, so instead of continuing along the trail, she picked a spot before the curve and plunged into the woods, the warrior still in hot pursuit.  She heard a startled shout from behind her, which the warrior responded to with a brief, hoarse yell of his own.  He sounded a bit out of breath.    Forests were Rona's element, but this one was unfamiliar to her.  The underbrush was more prevalent than the deep forests of the lowlands, the tree cover more sparse.  She was forced to plow through some bushes, using her bow to push branches aside, and leap over others, to maintain her scant lead over the onrushing warrior.  Little by little, however, she increased the distance between them.    The terrain was fairly level here, but soon her path crossed a trickling stream in a rocky little valley, where she took her opportunity to suddenly change directions and dart eastward, upstream.  Here she was able to use her agility to great advantage, bounding up, onto, and over rocks and boulders; scurrying along brief ridges at full speed, over fallen logs and gravelly slopes; as swift and sure-footed as any creature of the wild.  She heard him falling further and further behind, but she didn't stop running until she couldn't hear him anymore, and she didn't stop moving until she had covered another quarter-mile or more, picking her path more carefully .    Finally she dared to stop, hidden behind a great tree in peaceful sunlit copse.  Panting shallowly, drenched in sweat, sporting numerous cuts and scrapes from the plants she had ran through; but alive.  Alive, and free.  She took out her waterskin and guzzled nearly the entire thing, and drizzled the rest over her face.    After a brief respite, she continued her journey, going quietly and cautiously, leaving as little mark of her passage as she could.   This was her specialty, and she did it to perfection.   Only a master of tracking could hope to follow the trail she left, and that only with great time and patience.  She made her way toward the crevice in the upper cliff that she knew was the trade-trail's route to the homeland of the M'Chal.    A drifting ghost would perhaps have disturbed the serene forest more than Rona did passing through.  It was a beautiful place, full of exotic-looking flowers and sturdy vines climbing the boulders.  The trees themselves were a mix of narrow- and needle-leaf, with a few fruit trees interspersed, some laden with nature's bounty.  She took a few moments to harvest a handful of dark red cherries and ate them as she walked.    Perhaps an hour later, she intersected the trade-trail again and took to it after a cautious assessment.  The ascent to the M'Chal lands was sure to be watched closely, she knew; therefore, she abandoned trying to conceal herself.  She unstrung her bow and strapped it into place, donned her sun hat, and trotted up the trail.    The path rose to the base of the cliff ahead.  Ahead of her, a man rose from behind a crag and stepped out into the trail, holding a spear.  Her heart pounded in trepidation, but Rona slowed her trot, approached, and hailed him.  "Bright morning, guardian."    The man nodded back to her.  He wore armor of hardened leather and blackened metal, and a helm painted with feathers.  "Light upon you, traveller.  Who are you, and why do you come to our lands?"    "I am Rona, exile of the Bilobi.  I seek refuge in your lands, if you will hear my plea."  She lowered her eyes to the ground between them, joining her hands in a gesture of supplication.    There was a moment of silence.  Rona peeked up to see the man waving some sort of signal to someone behind him, then turning back to her.  "I am Tol, of the M'Chal.  Your request is granted, Rona, exile of the Bilobi.  You may enter our lands and plead your case. "    She let out a low sigh of relief.  "My thanks, Tol."  She paused, and looked back along the trail behind her.  "There are other travellers here, however, whose intentions are not so peaceful..."    "Oh?" Tol stepped closer, beckoning for his companion to join them.  "Tell us."    "A raiding party, I'm quite sure they were Z'Krol.  Four of them, I believe.  Two were cloaked in some sort of ... transparency.  I don't know, it looked like magic of some kind.  They went ahead, leaving two to set an ambush on the second leg down of the switchbacks.  The two that stayed were not cloaked, but hidden in a crevice.  I tried to sneak past them by climbing up the cliff, but they must have saw me, and they both chased me.  I stuck an arrow through one's leg, but the other chased me into the Upper Forest before I lost him."    Tol's face grew darker with every sentence, and his grip tightened visibly on his spear.  He nodded brusquely to her.  "My thanks."  He turned to his companion that had joined them, a slightly shorter man, similarly equipped.  "Signal the strike team."  The man hurried back toward their outpost.  Tol turned his gaze back to Rona, then down the trail.  "We will teach these scum to stay away from our lands," he growled.    Rona nodded, a savage smile creeping across her face.  "I would be happy to help in any way I can."    The signal was sent via heliograph to the top of the cliff, and in a matter of minutes, a pair of gliders launched above and sailed above the forest.  Rona watched with keen curiosity, having only heard stories of the manmade wings of the Sky People.  They were large, triangular shapes with the human occupant controlling them from a framework below the wing.   The scouts circled a few times before a band of warriors swiftly descended on ropes to the guardpost.    "We have a group of foragers out in the berry-bushes," Tol explained, as his comrades assembled with an impressive array of weaponry.  "We will send some to inform them of the danger and guard them, while the rest of us go to the trade-trail and seek these invaders.  I will lead this effort.  You are welcome to accompany us."    "Gladly," Rona answered.    Soon the teams were ready and they set off; four of the warriors angling off to the northeast toward the berry pickers, while the other seven, and Rona, trotted down the trade-trail.

   The Z'Krol, it turned out, had decided to vacate the area completely.   A thorough search of the area where Rona had been chased found only a few tracks, and further investigation down the trade-trail found no sign that the raiding party remained in the area.  The flying scouts continued their patrol as midday crept into afternoon; after posting guards at the top of the lower trail, the teams of warriors returned to the guardpost.  The foragers joined them there as well, a group consisting of boys, giggling maidens, and more serious matrons, bearing baskets laden with ripe berries.     Further back in the cliff wall, an ingenious system of ropes, baskets, and counterweights allowed the foragers to relinquish their burdens and ascend the long stairs to their home, Rona and the warriors in tow.  The stairway itself was cleverly constructed, carved into solid stone for the most part, with some sections supplemented by solid, well-maintained plank bridges.  Gleaming metal poles connected the levels between switchbacks at regular intervals.  Rona puzzled over their function, until she finally had to ask her escorts about them.  The poles were used as effective shortcuts for the downward descent, it turned out.

   The air changed as they climbed, and Rona felt a bit light-headed at times as she adjusted to the altitude.   Clouds were forming above the lowlands, a sign of the daily afternoon rain. A pleasant breeze kept them cool as they reached the top of the stairs, and the panorama of the homeland of the Sky People spread out before them.  A craggy landscape full of jagged spires of black rock, the terrain was bewilderingly mazelike to Rona's unfamiliar gaze.  The party was hailed by another mixed group, those who had been raising the lifts at the top of the cliff.      The foragers took up their baskets and wound their way eastward toward their village, seemingly simultaneously bursting into song as they began to walk.  Their voices echoed from the rocks around them, giving joyous praise for the bounty and beauty of summer.  Rona could not help but smile for the exuberance and vitality of these people, and found herself humming along to the song as she learned it.      Soon the paved trail crossed a ravine over an elegantly shaped bridge of pure black basalt, and ascended a ridge until they were overlooking a picturesque valley.  Dominating the skyline, a tall outcropping of the black rock rose perhaps another thousand feet above their present height, and at its peak, several columns of sparkling crystal scattered the sunlight in a million different directions.      Nestled into the base of the steep spires, a large village was built.  Houses were mounds of earth with doorways and chimneys; several larger structures were also built into the ground, with sturdy-looking roofs.  Below the village, a swath of terraces displayed a bounty of vegetation, and at the bottom of the valley a lake of crystal clear water lay like a splendid invitation.  There were people everywhere, and little goats darted here and there, chasing children or being chased.  People farming, swimming, flying kites, and a host of other activities.   Rona estimated the population of the village as perhaps a thousand.    The harvesters were met by a flock of children and baby goats partway down the slope, squealing in delight and trying to sing along with the summer song, some babbling excitedly, and all trying to finagle a sample of the harvest from the baskets.  Laughing matrons hugged their children, and some of the goats bounced around their humans in obvious delight.  There was an infectious feeling of celebration in the air as they brought the song to a final chorus and began dispersing into the village.

    Tol and a pair of the other warrior leaders escorted Rona to the largest structure in the valley, in the middle of town.  The aboveground portion of the building was impressive in its solidity, constructed of massive slabs of basalt and a large metal-bound gate at its entrance.   Rona's people had a similar structure, a fortress to retreat to in times of great peril.    Up a broad flight of stairs they ascended to the top of the edifice, where a stone watchtower rose, as tall as a tree.  There was a a pleasant little table beneath a broad awning beside the tower, and there they could set down their weapons, and Rona gratefully shed her pack and equipment belts.    They sat down on pillowed chairs and were brought refreshing juice by a lovely young dark-haired girl.  The breeze was perfect, the temperature was comfortable, and the juice was delicious.  They enjoyed the ambience in silence while they awaited the eshtale.      After perhaps twenty minutes, three people approached and ascended the stairs toward them, two men and a woman.  The men were mature, older warriors in their prime. Dark-haired and sun-bronzed, they were typical specimens of the Solbanian tribes.  The woman, however, was quite different indeed.  Her hair was shockingly blonde; her skin was somewhat tanned, but still pale.  Her face had a delicate quality to it, almost childlike.  She was dressed in a light, flowy white dress that looked eminently comfortable, and a matching white sun hat.  She also bore the rod of an eshtale.    The two warriors split to either side and the woman approached between them, as Rona and the others rose to greet them.  Rona stepped away from her comfortable seat and stood before them.    "Greetings, Rona."  The woman's voice had a melodic quality. "I am Raebessa.  Welcome to Crystal Tower."  She was a bit taller than Rona and had intense, light blue eyes.  Rona abstractly noted that her ears were slightly pointed.  There was something familiar about her that Rona could not quite place.     Rona tore her gaze away from Raebessa's mesmerizing eyes, and bowed her head in gratitude. "My thanks, eshtale.  I seek refuge among you, as I have been exiled from my homeland."    Wordlessly, the fair-haired woman reached out and cupped Rona's face gently, and then embraced her quickly.  "You are welcome here," she whispered in that moment.      At the woman's touch, a tingling, almost electric shock cascaded through Rona's body, leaving her momentarily breathless.  Raebessa stepped back, a sweet, secret smile pulling at her lips as their eyes met again.  "Let us sit, now, and you can tell us all about it."

   Rona related her story to them as the afternoon wore on.  The warriors were particularly interested in hearing about the camoflauging robes, and what Rona had observed of the raiders' tactics.  When all the questions had been answered and various repurcussions and extrapolations discussed, the hour was growing late and the smell of cooking food began wafting from the village around them.  They concluded their meeting and dispersed.      Raebessa bid her tribesmen farewell, then turned to Rona.  "I will inform the elders of our decision to accept your request for refuge. You can stay with me, if you want.  I have a spare room in my little temple for guests."  She waved in the direction of the spires above the village and smiled shyly, "And I'll bet you could use a hot bath."    "Oh, now that sounds delightful!" Rona exclaimed.  With no further ado, they picked up Rona's equipment and headed up the wide walkways toward Raebessa's home.

   An amazingly short time later, Rona was soaking in a luxuriously warm bath, set in a large bowl carved into the black stone of the hillside.  The bath was fed by an ingeniously designed system of trenches and switches to bring water that had been heated by the sun in pools in the rocks above.  The bath was above a small private garden nestled in the boulders behind the house that Raebessa referred to as her temple.    The house itself was carved into a short spire.  There was an elegant but comfortable sitting area in the entry room, a kitchen on the garden side, and a pair of side rooms that contained niche beds and storage shelves.  The main room was also Raebessa's bedroom, it turned out; it was a beautiful space surrounded on every wall with polished crystal ornaments, statuettes, and sparkles from every direction.  There also hung several paintings of an erotic nature that had made Rona blush at the sight, and the enormous round bed in the center of the room had given her no doubt about the kind of activities that went on there.    Raebessa had shown Rona the room she would be using, explained how to draw the bath, and given her a massive fluffy towel and a robe before leaving to address the elders.   The place was so peaceful and her hostess so sweet, that Rona felt immediately comfortable.  Now she relaxed in the warm water gratefully, feeling the soreness and exhaustion seeping out of her in the elemental luxury.  She drifted into a reverie for some time.    When she opened her eyes again, it was to the sound of a door closing and light footsteps on the mosaic-stone walkway leading through the little garden.  The sun had set and twilight gloom was deepening.  Raebessa appeared through the vine-and-flower-covered trellis and set a basket and a lantern down on the little table there.  She glanced up at Rona and smiled brightly.    "I brought us some dinner!  My grandmother made some of her koshgal meat pies, and I am so blessed to be in her good graces today!" Raebessa giggled and went back into the house.      Rona extricated herself from the bath, reluctantly, but also realizing how great her hunger had grown.   She dried herself off on the great towel as Raebessa returned to the table and set out utinsels. Rona watched the fair-haired woman curiously as she slipped on the light robe and tied the belt closed; then she descended the short stairway to the cozy tea-table.    Rae pulled out a chair for her. "Here you are, dear... well, then, you do clean up nicely, don't you?" Her eyes roamed over Rona's face and form for a brief moment before their gaze met.  There was a sparkle in her eyes that Rona could not attribute entirely to reflection, and she found herself quite lost for a long moment.  Rae's lips parted slightly and she leaned forward a bit, before catching herself with a small shake of her head and a throaty chuckle.      "Some hostess I am, getting distracted... sit, sit." Rae giggled again. Rona complied, and Rae opened the basket to release a mouth-watering aroma from the freshly baked goodness within.    It was perhaps the most delicious meal Rona had ever eaten.  The combination of her hunger, the struggle and portentiousness of the day, the strange but serene surroundings, her enchanting hostess - all conspired to fill her senses. It was almost like being intoxicated, but instead of numbness she felt actually more alive than she could have dreamed possible.   She devoured the meat pie, the seasoned sweet potatoes, oil-and-spiced tender greens, the mushroom soup and salty crackers, and the berry tart; all in rapid succession.  A glass of sweet plum wine set off the flavor of the tart nicely as Rona finally leaned back from the table with a contented sigh.      Night had fallen completely, and the stars shone brightly above.  The spires, the rocks around them, the temple, the plants, and her hostess all seemed aglow with the gentle light.    Rae pushed her own plate away and delicately dabbed away the tart crumbs from her berry-darkened lips.  "Oh, summertime." She laughed, a silvery tinkle blending with the trickle of water and the chirping of various insects around them.  "It is my favorite season, and the food has a lot to do with that."    "I can only agree," Rona rubbed her belly contentedly. "I haven't met your grandmother yet, but I already know she's amazing."    "Yes, she is," Rae agreed with a chuckle.  "Amazing enough to land an Aelven lover many years ago..." She stroked the tip of one ear.    "Oh!" Rona exclaimed.  "Tell me about her?" she suggested.    They spent some time talking about Raebessa and her family.  Her grandfather was a wandering Aelven adventurer by the name of Enobosil,  who had come and lived among the M'Chal for a number of years.  He had become quite smitten by the gorgeous young Wiusa, Rae's grandmother, and she with him; their exceptional love bore them a child, a rare happenstance indeed for the two species.  That child was Rae's father, Norbosil.    Enobosil was a scholar, a scout, and a mage, come to the region to investigate the numerous ruins in the mountains to the east.  While he was careful in his planning and preparation, the missions he took deep into Hobgoblin territory were dangerous.  Some of the more daring warriors of the M'Chal had joined with the Aelf for these excursions, and they had some successful trips, coming back with scouting reports, mineral and biological samples, cultural analysis, and even some valuable loot.  Then, the party did not return from one of these summer trips, and none were ever seen again.    Wiusa was heartbroken, of course, but moved on to start a family with others after a while.  Norbosil was slow to mature, so much so that even his ten-years-younger sister reached puberty before he did.   He became a hunter of uncanny ability, spending much of his time in nature.  He was loyal to his family, though.      Norbosil and Rae's mother Mivana become lovers, and then oath-bonded, and Rae was born soon after.  She was also slow to mature, although not quite as much so as her father.  She was now, she informed Rona, twenty-nine years old, although she appeared no older than Rona herself at eighteen.  She was already eshtale, she explained, because she had pledged herself to the Goddess of Love and been given the power of Peace.  This ability was certainly very convenient for someone whose job, quite often, was to settle inter-domestic disputes and cool hot heads; and that she could offer counsel and comfort to the suffering made her even more valuable in the position.    As the priestess talked, Rona started to understand why her community trusted her implicitly.  Rae was so open, enthusiastic, and overflowing with love and gratitude for her tribesmen and family, that Rona was quite caught up in the tale; until she suddenly realized she was having trouble focusing her eyes, and smothered a yawn.    Rae took her by the hand then, and led her back to the room they had set her gear in.  A cozy bed was set up in a deep niche in the back wall.  Rona sank into the fluffy mattress gratefully, Rae obligingly tucked the blankets around her, and she fell asleep even as the priestess quietly closed the door.

   The next day, Rona started to become acquainted with the community of Crystal Towers, with Rae as her guide.  The priestess was not eshtale this day, and they were free to wander about.  Rae was well-liked by her tribe, and greeted cheerfully wherever they went.  The children especially were happy to see her, and they engaged in numerous games throughout the day, frolicking and laughing.  Along the way, Rona was gifted some clothing and adornments by other women, so she soon was wearing a comfortable sun dress and fancy sandals.  Rae was complimentary and supportive to everyone they came across, leaving the women beaming and the men grinning; or sometimes, blushing and stammering.  It was a relaxing and enjoyable day, full of tales and laughter and enough introductions to make Rona's head spin.    Night fell and once again they dined together in the garden.  Afterwards, their conversation took a more serious tone, as Rona told Rae the full story of the altercation that led to her exile, and of her journey to the M'Chal.  Speaking of the events of the last several days moved Rona to tears, as even then she was still trying to fully comprehend the sudden life changes that had taken place.  Rae was very understanding and sympathetic, and when Rona cried, she cried with her; and held her until the tears stopped flowing.  Rona slept well again that night, at peace with what had happened.

   The next day Rona spent with the warriors, getting a grand tour of the town's outposts and defenses, and an overview of the aerial abilities of the M'Chal.  From the gliding wings to the rope-jumpers, the M'Chal were masters of their mountainous environment, and Rona could see numerous new skills and equipment that she would like to learn.   A training regimen was decided upon to best complement her abilities, and Rona went back to the temple feeling inspired and hopeful that she could quickly become a valuable asset to her gracious hosts.    That evening, after dinner, Rae led Rona up into the rocks behind the temple; up a steep winding stairway to a small basin at the top of one of the towers.  The view was spectacular from here, the waxing moon above lighting the towers around them with its gentle glow.      They looked at the stars for a while, taking in the serene beauty of the landscape along with the sweet-smelling herb they smoked out of a sparkling crystal pipe.  It was quite heady stuff, and as Rona gazed at her companion's silhouette, recognition dawned on her.  "You were in my vision!" she exclaimed, and then had to explain what she was talking about.    Rae seemed very interested in the vision, asking several questions about one detail or another.  The sriwi'ani in particular she was curious about; and when Rona had answered her questions as best she could, the priestess sat down close to her and whispered in her ear.      "A few are friends of mine.  Look, up there."  Rae pointed up into the sky, tracing a line.  "They are watching, much of the time."  She giggled. "They seem to find us amusing, or at least entertaining.  Especially our love lives.  We mammals do things much different than they do."      Rona laughed. "I can only imagine."  She thought she saw a blurring of the stars where Rae was pointing.  The priestess's body was warm and soft and neither of them felt inclined to separate while they watched the night sky.    After some time, thirst drove them to descend to the garden for more plum wine.  Rae filled their glasses full and toasted her guest with a sparkle in her eye.  "To you, Rona, a beautiful addition to the Crystal Towers!  I am blessed by your presence."    Rona blushed a bit and lowered her eyes modestly.  "I am the blessed one, priestess, to have found my way to your light."  She raised her eyes to Rae's again, and they both drank deeply.    Rae's face was slightly flushed, and she stood on her tiptoes and inhaled deeply.  She exhaled slowly, keeping eye contact with Rona, and smiled, her full lips glistening in the moonlight.  "I think it's time to go inside for my light show."    The light show turned out to be spectacular.  Rae lit lanterns in the corners of the main room and dialed knobs underneath them; these little machines rotated the lanterns slowly as they unwound, the cylinders around the lamps pierced with holes to let the light shine through intermittedly.  The result was a myriad of sparkling from all the crystal ornamentation in the room, rainbows and colors and shimmering reflections in every direction, constantly changing in a bewilderingly complex array.    Rona found herself sitting on the edge of the great round bed, sipping the delicious plum wine, bedazzled and relaxed and utterly lost in the moment.  It was somehow perfect when Rae sat next to her, intimately close, her long smooth legs brushing against her own.  Rae's skin was warm and the electric feeling rushed through Rona again as she turned her gaze on her fair hostess.  Rae wore only a filmy short nightgown now, and Rona drank in her ethereal beauty.  Her hostess smiled languidly and caressed her face lightly, then kissed her tenderly.    Rona's entire being seemed alight then, the sensations and emotions heightening as her body responded to Rae's gentle touch.  The priestess's hands caressed here and there, stroking her neck, her hair, her arms; brushing against Rona's erect nipples, down her ribcage and gently across her soft abdomen.  Rona rose to her caresses, body yearning, as the passion flared from a spark to a roaring inferno.      Soon the scant clothing had been discarded and they made sweet love together, with a seemingly insatiable hunger.  Despite her inexperience, Rona was instinctive and enthusiastic as she explored Rae's beautiful body with her fingers and her lips, delighting as the priestess's breath came in gasps, and little moans of pleasure; and as her dripping womanhood grew warm and swollen, the kisses and caresses grew ever more heated.    Time seemed to stand still for them as they brought each other to peaks of pleasure and finally to writhing, moist climax; then, they cuddled together in an intimate embrace, sweaty, covered in each others' juices, and utterly satisfied.  As Rona lay spooned against the priestess, her arm draped over her lover's ribcage, feet tangled together as if in tribute to their ecstasy; her last thought put a smile on her beautiful lips as she drifted off to sleep.    She was home.  

[everythingoesnk]

Once in Rockfield Farm (4/5)

summary; in this house we stan brian the hero

word count; 4 638

warnings; mary austin.

part 1

part 2

part 3

********

“Brian, can you get your fucking clogs out of the way?” Roger groaned, kicking them with the tip of his shoe.

“What’s gotten into you?” John complained, tired of his babyish behaviour.

“Don’t bother trying, Deaky” Brian said, sending Roger a look.

He wasn’t paying attention to them, perfectly displaying the lack of interest in carrying a conversation.

About you, you spent a lot of time with your friends lately, celebrating the successful end of the semester. All your hard work was rewarded, and you were finally clean and done with University.

There hadn’t been more opportunities to talk with you privately, and Roger wished you’d notice his efforts for things to go back to normal. It annoyed him that you always had something to do and wouldn’t find time to invest in him.

He fucked up everything saying he’d follow your suggestion to find another chick. It was childish and a mistake. He didn’t mean it and didn’t do it. He wanted to apologize and kept trying to do his bit, but you were closed off.

Excuses and excuses kept coming out of your mouth to avoid being alone with him.

Anxiety. That’s what you felt when recalling yours and Mary’s conversation.

Just the thought of Roger’s real intentions being the ones she addressed made you want to puke. You didn’t hate him or disliked him overnight, but you wouldn’t risk getting hurt.

Also, you’d been contemplating moving to America. Rockfield Farm’d become a vacation home rather than your residence.

Indifferent to your intentions to stay away from him, last Wednesday, Roger tried again.

He bought two tickets to attend a Romeo and Juliet play. He didn’t give two shits about Shakespeare or the performance, he just happened to hear you talk to John about how much you wanted to go. Turned out a guy called Gideon asked you first earlier that week to accompany him to that same bloody play. He could remember sympathy written on your face when he revealed you the plan.

Roger played it cool the best he could when you politely declined, justifying yourself saying you’d already agreed to go with Gideon.

“Maybe next time” he took a step back, staring down at his hands.

When you left the room he didn’t hesitate to tear the tickets into pieces.

“But I’m curious” John insisted.

“He’s angry because (Y/N)’s having a date tonight” Freddie half smiled.

Roger’s expression hardened. Freddie’s grin was no longer there.

“Oh, Rog” he pouted.

“What’s going on, Fred?” Brian asked in an undertone, leaning closer to Freddie.

John joined the little circle after looking briefly at Roger, who was peering through the window and susurrating something under his breath.

“Our sweet child is lovesick. Tonight was supposed to be his date with (Y/N), but she rejected him”

“She didn’t reject me” Roger claimed through gritted teeth. “Gideon happened to be faster”

Pronouncing this stranger’s name burned his tongue.

“It doesn’t mean it’s a date” Brian guessed. “I wouldn’t lose sleep over it, Roger”

He shook his head.

"She chose him over me, I'll get over it," he thought saying it out loud would make the statement sound easier.

“(Y/N) adores you, Rog. It’s not that deep, trust me” Freddie assured.

“What have I missed?” John asked.

“Something happened in the pub we don’t know about” Brian commented.

The image of Mary dragging you to the bathroom by the wrist sparked his curiosity. He was the only one apart from Roger who saw it, and he didn’t mention it to anyone.

Roger stopped listening somewhere around Freddie's words concerning drama and paid exclusive attention to what was happening outside.

An unfamiliar car that could only belong to Gideon pulled over in front of the house. He saw you climb out with him and head to the door.

“Hey, baby!” you hugged Sherlock after walking in and taking your coat off. “How’s my favourite boy doin’? Oh my God yes, I love you too my baby prince”

Sherlock barked happily a few times.

Hearing his paws against the floor, quickly running to announce your arrival to Her Majesty, made you smile from ear to ear.

“Sherlock ignored you totally”

“It’s fine. Can we go to your bedroom?”

“Okay”

The four of them heard the conversation.

Roger froze, and the others wanted the Grim Reaper to take them in time to escape the awkwardness.

Leaning with your shoulder against the living room door frame, you took off your heels.

“Hey guys," you greeted, undoing your ponytail and shaking out your hair.

“Hi, (Y/N)” John and Brian responded in unison.

“How’d it go?” Freddie asked straight forward.

Roger chewed his bottom lip, incapable to keep his eyes off you. The way the fabric of your jeans hugged you was distracting, but as soon as Freddie made sure to try and collect information, his eyes and ears snapped upwards to hear every single word of what was going on around him.

“Horrible” you announced. “The play exquisite, amen to that, but we had a large family with children behind us that wouldn’t shut up”

It wasn’t after your rambling that you saw Roger standing in one corner. His jersey was so tight you could appreciate a tiny hint of his belly button.

You stared at each other for a bit: you sent him a mini smile that he didn’t respond to. On the contrary, his lips pressed together.

He was jealous.

So fucking jealous.

He felt like one big wolf caged, ready to storm out as soon as someone were to release him.

You got your eyes back on Freddie, colour mounting in your cheeks at the excruciating gaze Roger put you to test.

“This is Gideon, guys. Old friend of mine” you said, patting his shoulder.

Brian was the only one to say hi this time. John and Freddie simply nodded with a smile, Freddie pouring wine into a glass.

Sprawled across the sofa now, Roger looked imperturbable. He kept on twirling a drumstick and stealing quick looks at Gideon: he had his head shaved off, he was bony and very quiet around new people.

At 6:45 a.m. the next day, Roger woke up due to a bad dream of his drumkit being set on fire by accident because of Freddie.

Patting Sherlock’s head along the way, Roger’s steps took him to the kitchen to get some water.

Eyebrows furrowed as the light was switched on already, he couldn’t believe his eyes when Gideon turned it off and almost bumped into him in the hallway.

“Oh. Sorry, lad”

Had he spent the night here?! With you?! Roger didn’t speak for a few seconds.

“What are you doing here?”

“I stayed over for the night. I’m leaving in the morning… don’t worry” Gideon said, perfectly aware that the drummer didn’t appreciate his presence.

God, Roger was so obvious.

Gideon left to go back to sleep and Roger considered crashing his head into the wall.

Shoulders deflating and hands on his face, he understood it was time to give up on you. You pushed him to no other option.

//

An enormous impulse to stab a knife through Roger’s chest was dangerously growing inside you for the fiftieth time in the last half an hour. It sent your brain reeling how dumb he could be on purpose.

Jumping onto your bed, you reached for a magazine and started to flip through the pages, not really reading any of it. It was for the best, you needed to distract yourself or you’d indeed end up doing something stupid.

His ‘rocker’ habits started to get up your nose. You lost count of the number of times you told him not to bring home any of his bootlicker groupies.

You were already doing them a huge favour, but that's abusing your trust on large-scale.

There was a soft knock on the door.

Just like everyone could recognize someone’s footsteps after living together for some time, you could also tell who was behind such gentle noise.

“Come on in, Bri, come and fucking help me count to ten. Suddenly I don’t know anymore” you tossed the magazine away. It landed on top of the mountain of clothes scattered on the floor.

Lying now on your belly with your face against the pillow, you sensed the bed sank a bit when he took a seat next to you.

“You know,” he spoke, “it will only make things worse if you let him get to you like that”

“Oh, that’s rich” you snapped. “He’s been pushing my buttons for weeks now. I’m human, of course I’m gonna end up exploding”

Brief pause of you chewing your gum and Brian rubbing his thumbs against each other.

“I haven’t exploded yet, though” you reconsidered. “He better stop testing me”

“You’re just proving my point” Brian laughed.

You turned your head in his direction and shot him a look.

Brian patted your back with encouragement.

“How about I take the evening off and we go for a bike ride? Would that cheer you up?”

“Yes!” you cried, getting up.

A little getaway sounded marvellous.

Besides the fact that spending time with Brian was one of your favourite things to do ever since you met him, it was a beautiful day outside. Too beautiful to waste it indoors. The sky was entirely blue, not a single cloud spoiling the bright rays of sunshine from shining.

“The boys won’t mind?” you asked.

“We’ve been locked in the studio for days, not a single break. Freddie’s working hard in a new piece on the piano, John surely needs some time off too, and Roger’s keeping himself entertained. They won’t even notice I’m gone” Brian explained.

“Maybe John wants to join us” you added, looking for a most comfortable pair of boots.

“I don’t know, I’ll go ask him”

After lacing up your shoes you reunited with Brian downstairs and smiled widely when you saw John standing next to him, although disappointment overtook your face when Brian pouted at you. John wasn’t tagging along?

“Deaky?”

“Freddie asked me first to go shopping with him, sorry” he welcomed you in his arms when you opened yours to embrace him. “Everyone wants to hang out with me and I can’t please everybody at once” he winked at you.

“Brian told me he was gonna lock himself up with the piano the whole day, huh?”

Brian’s mouth curved into an apologetic smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I deserve to treat myself too, my dear” Freddie sang, going down the stairs with his characteristic grace and a triumphant smug look.

The four of you started discussing your plans for the rest of the day.

They were going to the mall, seeing as Freddie wanted to renew his wardrobe. John was okay with the idea of rating outfits, but everything was a good excuse to go out and relax the mind a little, overwhelmed by having worked so many weeks non-stop. The album was almost done, and Rheid already mentioned to them something about touring Japan after the launch.

Perhaps they could find something interesting to wear on stage.

Bri and you preferred to get on the bikes and ride aimlessly instead, seeking some peace.

They headed to the van and Brian excused himself saying he needed to go to the bathroom.

You were gently tossing your hair in front of the round mirror hung on the main hall waiting for him, trying to tame the baby hairs that were all over the place.

You heard the clacking of heels approaching, and within seconds a stunning blonde doll was behind you.

Staring at each other in the glass, she bit her inside cheek, her gaze making it clear that she was mentally criticizing your appearance.

She felt special? She wasn’t, you wanted to tell her. The fourth one in a week maybe?

“Can I help you?” you began with one eyebrow raised.

“I was just leaving”

She took one step forward and wiped off the smeared lipstick around her lips.

“Roger’s asleep” she informed, chin up as she cleaned herself.

“Good to know”

She held her purse in between her arm and hip and gave you a half smile.

“Nice house” she smiled and clucked her tongue.

You didn’t respond and waited for her to get out of your sight.

When she closed the door, you let out a grunt.

“Roger Taylor, you’re a fucking pain in the ass” you condemned with your eyes shut, and flinched at the unexpected contact of a big hand on your shoulder, opening them.

Brian.

"I grabbed a few snacks and two bottles of water," he said contently, turning over himself a little for you to actually see his stuffed backpack.

You chuckled. What would you do without this precious soul?

“We’ll be gone for less than two hours, Bri”

“Just in case”

You stroked his chin fondly, getting a beautiful smile from him in return, and both walked out without worrying about leaving a note for Roger in case he woke up and saw the house empty.

//

Much to your amazement, you finished the supplies Brian had brought with him. Stopping at one of the bars in the nearest port before returning to Rockfield Farm was his idea.

People were enjoying the soft breeze of the first moments of the night before it was too cold to be outside.

"(Y/N)?" Brian asked softly.

You took the beer to your lips.

Brian sighed.

“What happened between you and Roger? I know he can be a little bitch sometimes, but you guys were together all the time and now—“

"It was a misunderstanding"

“Misunderstanding? What was a misunderstanding?”

Brian looked startled. Nothing was clicking.

Out of the blue, Mary’s intrusion to yours and Roger’s heated moment in the club seemed to be gaining weight for him.

“That day in the pub,” he started, and you turned your head away holding your breath, “what happened?”

"Nothing," you said, picking at your nails absentmindedly.

That wasn't enough for Brian.

"Look at me"

You did.

“Are you lying?”

“What would that get me?" you answered with a question, avoiding saying a resounding ‘no’.

"I don't know," he responded, resting his elbows on the table and framing his hands on either side of his face.

A personality trait of yours and many people, you hoped, was that you didn’t enjoy lying to the people you loved, and since you were aware that what you said wasn’t true to an extent you didn’t want to deny it again to try to convince him.

Everyone saw you and Roger flirting, but what happened between you and Mary was yours and Mary’s business. And possibly, just possibly, Roger’s.

“He’s been acting weird since…,” he looked up to the sky, mentally counting, “since that day you brought Gabriel home”

Putting your head in your hands for the slightest second, you wished Brian’d shut up and talk about anything but this. You didn’t even tell him he fucked up the boy’s name.

You folded your arms dropping back on the seat and chose to not open your mouth.

“You know it’s because he thinks you fucked him, right?” Brian sentenced.

He didn’t want you to think he was blaming you or insinuating anything. You were free to do the heck you wanted to do. He was just pointing out the obvious.

“I do”

Brian didn’t say anything.

“I do, and… But what if I did? It’s my life. I don’t owe Roger anything” you answered, spreading your arms.

He remained silent and just kept on listening to the words erupting out of your mouth.

“It’s not like we were dating. Why’s he so butthurt? I’m not stupid. I know he’s bringing those girls just to provoke me”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Fuck Gabriel?”

“Fuck no. We’ve known each other since we were four, and we happen to meet up every now and then. He’s moving to Dublin soon with his sister. It’s a tradition that he stays over when he pays me a visit. It’s not like there was a single room available, y’know” you hinted, and Brian quickly nodded. Yep, because of them. “That’s what we did, Brian. Talk and fall asleep. And Roger instead of asking keeps fucking Barbie after Barbie. Fuck him, really”

“Sure”

“Sure what?” you snapped, irritation clear in your voice.

Brian succeeded in hiding a smirk.

“Screw him. He deserves it”

You looked at him as if he were fooling you. You really didn’t know where the conversation was going anymore.

“Screw him for living his life like you’re doing”

Ouch.

You blushed violently.

“That’s…”

"You're jealous, (Y/N). It's alright, love. Roger's being a jerk. What I find strange," he said back with a worried face, the tone in his voice making it clear that he knew you knew what he was referring to but were refusing to tell him, "is that in the beginning it was you giving him the cold shoulder. He came to me, you know, asking if I had the tiniest clue of what was going on”

Jesus, if Brian’s goal was to make you feel like trash, he was doing the job quite good.

“It’s totally fine if you don’t want to tell me,” Brian spoke, lowering his head and glancing at your fingers grasping the beer bottle tight, “but things are the way they are because you’re being stubborn and dishonest with each other”

//

“Bri, you’ve got to stop” Mary laughed timidly, hella uneasy due to Brian’s cold gaze upon her.

Brian, John and Mary were chilling downstairs waiting for you. Freddie and Roger were in the studio instead, having a laugh and playing around. They were all looking their best just for you. It was the 19th, your long awaited graduation day. It felt dreamlike to you, but it was finally here.

Nothing and no one would ruin it.

“Are you proud of yourself?” Brian questioned in a tranquil tone.

“What?” she put her brows together.

John, sitting with one leg over the other, lowered the newspaper and stared at them over the rim of the page.

“Don’t be silly, Mary. Whatever you said to (Y/N) that day in the pub, you messed everything up”

Mary was surprised that Brian came at her like that. They never argued, never. But she could tell the subject mattered to him.

Shifting on her feet, she hesitated where to start.

“Seeing as you care so much about (Y/N), like I do," she reiterated, "you should know that I made her a favour"

“Who are you to interfere, Mary?”

“C’mon, you know Roger better than I do and know that he doesn’t take commitment seriously“

“I asked you one thing. Who are you to interfere?”

Mary’s face went blank. She looked at John, but he quickly hid behind the newspaper only to peek at her again as soon as her eyes met the ground.

“For Christ’s sake, Mary! Who are you to interfere!” Brian shouted, pushing for an answer.

She clenched her fists.

“What’s happening here?” Freddie’s voice interrupted.

Both turned their heads at him, surprised that he was back so soon.

“Nothing” she hurried to say, and sent Brian a pleading look.

"Nothing?" Brian asked sarcastically, his voice raising a bunch of octaves.

Freddie and Roger stepped further into the room.

When Roger’s eyes connected with Brian’s, he knew something important concerning him was the main topic.

His eyes wandered between him and Mary.

Brian gestured her to speak.

She'd never felt this way before, since a mighty character was one of her many strengths. A woman with little hesitations. Roles changed, though. She couldn't even dare to give Freddie a fast glance, afraid that he'd hate her for this. She truly cared about you a lot, and clearly wasn't fond of Roger. She thought she was doing the right thing.

You and Freddie were the ones who mattered to her the most in the world, and losing you both because of this drama would destroy her.

Roger, fed up of so much suspense, proceed to move closer to Mary. He stared right into her eyes.

“What have you done?” he asked with an alarming and shocking put together voice, to which Mary consequently felt goosebumps run through her spine.

It was now or never.

“I encouraged her to stay away from you. I assumed you just wanted to…” she made a vague gesture with her hand, “and I didn’t want her heart to be broken because of you”

“Mary!!” Freddie gasped.

Temperature in his body building up, and face as red as the blood boiling in his veins, Roger’s hands went to rub the back of his neck where one vein was perilously showing.

John took a long sip of his drink, not really prepared for shit to go down now.

“You… you…” Roger didn’t know how to put into words everything that he wanted to say.

Mary’s lower lip started trembling. Freddie didn’t like one bit seeing her so vulnerable, but he couldn’t force himself to feel sorry for her when he didn’t.

“Christ, are you going to cry now? You’re fucking sick in the head” Roger sassed, exasperated.

The colour drained out of Mary's face yet again due to the embarrassment he was putting her through.

“Fuck you. You don’t know anything about me or my feelings” Roger cursed.

“They sure aren’t that strong when you’ve been fucking women here, in her bloody home!” Mary lectured, hoping to win some confidence in her speech.

“I DIDN’T FUCK THEM! I brought them only to end up kicking them out every time because I couldn’t!” Roger snapped, tightening his expression. “I like her too much!”

The room fell silent.

Roger stared at his mates with arms slightly raised at the quietness. His gaze paced between all of them, who couldn’t articulate a single sound even if they tried. He then turned to Mary and snapped a finger at her with threatening eyes.

“Now I’m gonna go upstairs and explain everything to (Y/N), and you better don’t interrupt us, got it? You already did enough”

"Rog, I think she does get it," Freddie said coming at Mary's rescue, worried that he might spit at her.

“Let her speak, she has a mouth, right? A fucking stupid dirty mouth that should’ve been kept closed”

“Talk to me with respect, you asshole!” Mary screamed angrily.

“You didn’t earn it!!!!” he growled.

John cleared his throat loud and clear in an attempt to make them shut up in time.

“Guys?”

Five heads snapped at the bottom of the stairs, where you were.

Barefoot but dressed in the pastel blue dress Roger gifted you what seemed like an eternity ago. Your hair wasn't done yet, up in a bun so it wouldn't get in your way when doing the makeup.

Tugging at her earring, Mary’s face dropped, embarrassed.

As soon as Roger’s eyes landed on you, his legs turned to jelly.

He didn’t think twice: in a hurry he grabbed you by the arm, basically dragging you out of there, until you were both locked up in your bedroom, and murmured an apology when slamming the door by accident.

Seeing as his lighter didn't want to cooperate plus the agonising need to smoke, Roger began to hiss barbarities under his breath.

“What’s the matter? We have to leave in twenty minutes” you said, sitting down.

“No, get up”

“What? I don’t want to, I have to—“

“Please, get up. I can’t speak to you if we’re uneven”

You did as told, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Fine. I’m standing up now”

Anchoring your attention discreetly on his body language, you came to realize that whatever was holding him back was causing him so much trouble.

He drew nearer to you, but regretted it and stepped away. You straightened and gave a very short laugh, impatient.

“Roger”

“Do you still regret what happened in the pub?”

“What does this have to do with… anything, now?” you blurted out with difficulty, hot in the face.

It was the first time you were talking about it when sober.

Roger jerked his head towards you, staring intensely.

“Does it matter?” you breathed, saddened, learning that he wanted a much more elaborated response you didn’t have.

“Of course it fucking—“ Roger stopped there and decided to start again. “Of course it matters”

Because you didn’t know where he was going, you didn’t speak. Roger continued.

“I don’t expect you to care, but I’ve got a few things I want to clear up”

He looked so desperate you found no choice.

“I’m listening”

“Honestly, I… God, you’re so smart but so stupid at the same time”

You blushed. Dude… what the?

“I… I care so much about you, and you don’t even seem to notice shit”

He paused and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Those girls I invited over I didn't do anything with"

“Woah, not even a blowjob? Hard to believe so. The last one fucking came to me with a… triumphant smile, and swollen lips, and… Ugh”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Maybe I made out with one. But that’s it, we only kissed. I was drunk, I can’t even remember her face. Believe me. One of them even punched me for dumping her before she could even unzip her dress”

You laughed at that but quickly covered your mouth. You were supposed to be serious about this, you couldn’t just laugh like that!

Roger shook his head but smiled a little.

“(Y/N),” he called, back to the relevant stuff. “Mary told me everything. Now I get it when you thought that staying away from me was the best option. My reputation doesn’t help, I know”

His eyes were incredibly soft.

There was an intense wish to deny it, to convince yourself that you weren’t thrilled about him opening up to you. Who could you fool? That’s everything you ever wanted from him. But you couldn’t allow yourself to give in. There was no way that this would have a happy ending.

He sighed deeply.

“I miss you. Talk to me again, I can’t bear it anymore. Next time I’ll be nicer to Gideon, I promise. But if he hurts you I won’t hesitate to kill him” a tormenting sentiment devoured him whole as he confessed.

You shook your head.

“There’s nothing between Gideon and I. A boy and a girl can be friends, Roger”

“But you slept together and I thought—“ he replied with flushed cheeks.

“We. Did. Nothing” you reassured him.

Shame drawn on his face, he nodded and you clapped your hands upfront.

“My turn”

Roger cocked his head in your direction questioningly.

“I’m moving to New York by the end of the season, approximately”

He first looked at you unblinkingly and then stared off into space.

“You can't," he said after a while pursing his lips, breath hitching in his throat.

"What do you mean ‘I can't'?" you asked suppressing a shy chuckle, your heart suddenly pounding vigorously in your chest.

“You can’t leave like that”

“Well… I’ve got nothing to look forward here”

Mouth set in a hard line, a new idea better than the one he had of buying you the dress held on to his conflicted mind. The light at the end of the tunnel didn't seem so far away now. He just hoped it all would work out as he wanted it too.

He checked his watch.

“If you don’t hurry up you’ll be late”

His attitude was confusing you. You slowly nodded.

“Are you alright, Roger? Your mood swings are scaring me”

“I am”

Your heart shook furiously at his following declaration.

“You look absolutely ravishing, love. Money well spent”

********

tagging; @sweetdaisys @multifics @incorrcctqueen @namelesslosers @benders-diamond-earring @mercurycrowley @ixchel-9275

[frozenartscapes]

*Snow and sunshine au questions*: Does Solveig feel bad that she has no father and how does she learn it in the first place? Will Solveig ever meet her grandparents and/or uncles from her father's side? I think they'll consider her not worthy because she's born a girl :// right?

She kinda notices it, but it doesn’t really click until Anna gets pregnant with Agnes, and everyone is talking about Kristoff becoming a father. She approaches Elsa about it one night when she’s unable to sleep. She askes if all people have Papas, or only some. Elsa sees where the conversation is heading immediately and starts treading carefully. She explains that, yes, everyone has a Papa. Then Solveig asks where her Papa is.

Elsa at first thought about not telling Solveig right away. But she decided it wouldn’t be fair, so she wraps Solveig up in her arms and explains that her Papa died before she was born. Solveig, being only four at this point, wondered when he’ll be back. Elsa swallows hard and tells her that people who die don’t come back.

Solveig is quiet for a moment, then asks if he was a nice man, like Uncle Kristoff. Elsa has to bite her tongue pretty hard because Johannes was nothing like Kristoff. She tells her daughter a half-truth: that he was smart, and witty, and bold. That he was a nice enough man. Solveig asks if she misses him, and this time Elsa tells the truth: no, she doesn’t. She explains softly that she married Johannes for reasons that weren’t for love, like her Aunt and Uncle. She got on fine with Johannes, but she didn’t love him. Not in the way she loves Anna, or Kristoff, and especially Solveig. She is sure to let Solveig know that everyone might have a Papa, but people don’t need a Papa. Sometimes they don’t even need a Mama. What’s important is having people around you who love and care for you.

Solveig hugs her Mama tight after that and says she’s happy having just a Mama, especially having her Mama as a Mama.

---

Solveig does meet her grandparents from her father’s side eventually, but not until she’s older. There’s not a huge rush from either side to meet with the other. Even though the alliance between the Aplines and Arendelle was important - and important enough that the King of the Aplines wouldn’t ever dare treat Solveig badly in Elsa’s presence - it’s not like she’s really all that important to the Aplines in terms of the family hierarchy. With Johannes being the third son, and his elder siblings had plenty of kids of their own, that put him pretty far down on the list of inheritance, let alone any of his own kids. Solveig wouldn’t have much of a claim to anything in the Aplines, even if she had been born a boy. She is however, Arendelle’s heir. And her blood connection to the Aplines basically replaces the loss of the marriage.

So of course she does eventually visit the Aplines with her Mama. The Apline Islands is an archipelago of medium to small islands further south. They’re mountainous, mineral-rich, and good farming land. They’ve also been benefiting greatly from the Industrial Revolution, and have a number of new, “modern” inventions, buildings, and transportation systems that seem straight out of science fiction. Solveig is amazed by it, and Elsa is at first worried that her daughter might decide to stay longer with her other family. The royal Apline family are welcoming, show off all the great things about their nation, and are thoroughly pleased with Solveig’s growth and education thus far. They’re a little concerned about her hand, which by this point had been lost, but her magic more than makes up for that.

But thankfully, to Elsa’s relief, once the trip was over and they had set sail on their journey back to Arendelle, Solveig let out a long, wistful sigh and confessed she couldn’t wait to get back home. Arendelle was a much more peaceful place to be, and while she liked meeting her family, she admitted she liked her Arendelle family more.

[superkaralovesfanfiction]

Smoky Mountain Rain

Smoky Mountain Rain A Supergirl Story- by superkara For Supercat Week, day 1, abilities ------ This story came from the song Smoky Mountain Rain by Ronnie Milsap. Kind of. It's not as close as I would have made it, or as long as initially intended, but as I thought this up 7 days before Supercatweek, and had 7 stories to write, that's right I'm writing a fic for each day, then needless to say, it's kinda rushed. I might make an extended version at some point, but I have so many unfinished supercat fics at this point that I could write for months and not finish them all, I figure I should devote some time to those. But, alas, every time I start writing one, I think up 3 more, so I should have a fic for any situation now. Anyways, enough with my rambling, I hope you enjoy this. Day 1, supercat week, abilities ------------- Cat stared at the rain pelting the beach and deck of her vacation home and sighed, wondering what National City looked like tonight. Whether it was sunny or gloomy like it was here. Cold and wet. The thought of sunshine brought Kara into her mind for the trillionth time that day, and Cat sighed again, her breath fogging up the window before her, blurring the view. ''Was it a mistake, Kara? To let you go?'' Cat asked to the window, watching with tears in her eyes as lightning crackled dangerously over a choppy, angry sea. ''You told me heroes never run. I did exactly that. So why did you ever call me a hero in my own right? Clearly I'm nothing close to you.'' ---- ''She was the one that got away from me.'' Cat explained sadly to the girl that had joined her at the bar a little while ago, asking if she could use company for a while. She was beautiful, Cat had to admit. Long white blonde hair, pale green eyes, a pouty smile. She was a stunner. But she was no Kara. ''Have you considered calling? Apologizing?'' ''Mm. No.'' Cat said, tear soaked eyes on her empty bourbon glass. ''After running away first, I don't get to do that. I don't have the right to come crawling back for her forgiveness.'' Cat smirked at the memory of their exchange outside CatCo. Kara looking at her in utter shock when Cat had blurted out that she loved her assistant. And then Cat's mistake. Kara had wanted to speak. She'd been about to say something, her cape fluttering behind her in the wind blowing recklessly through the city streets, and Cat had left then. She'd left and stopped whatever Kara had wanted to say, and Kara being Kara, hadn't followed, too struck to speak. ''I just wish I'd had the courage to let her speak.'' ''You were emotional, scared.'' The girl, Kassandra was her name, said in a soft, caring tone, sipping at her mineral water. ''I don't deserve the fear though.'' Cat said sadly, twisting the delicate glassware in her fingertips as she spoke. ''She takes fear and turns it into strength. She uses it as her power. If I can't meet her like that... well. She's so above me...'' ''Tell me about her. Maybe it'll help...'' ''She's... she is, no. She WAS my best girl. Best assistant I ever had. Through the yelling, the anger, even corporate destruction, she didn't leave me. She stayed with me. I suspect I know why...'' Cat stopped for a second, thinking. She knew why. Kara was Supergirl. But she didn't have the right to reveal that name. ''But, regardless, she was like a ray of sunshine, somebody I looked forward to seeing in my office. Which is exactly why I don't have the right to a chance with her.'' ''Because she was your employee.'' ''Precisely.'' ''But it happens. It happens so so much. If she hadn't worked for you, you would probably never have met the girl. Maybe there's a reason...'' ''It's not that.'' Cat said, stopping the other girl. ''I know it happens. I've seen it happen in my office. My photographic journalist, his girlfriend works on the same floor. She was his girlfriend and I still hired her on the spot. I know it can work. But it's the fact that she deserves so much better. She's such a bouncy happy little thing, the last thing she needs is me, such a cold, icy person. She needs someone who will treat her like a precious rose. I'd just wilt her with my cold words. I can't give her what she wants.'' ''What is it you think she wants?'' Cat looked at the woman beside her, eyes narrowed in concentration, wondering why this woman was being so mysterious. ''She wants brevity. Happiness. Beach trips and flowers. Cuddling all weekend and calling in sick to work so she can spend another day with you because two days wasn't enough. All I can give her is coffee addiction and more work. She's 27, and I'm... this. She's practically... I could be her mom. She deserves everything else, not coffee and am meetings and late nights at the office.'' ''Maybe that's what she wants?'' ''I'm sorry?'' Cat asked, a little defiant. ''Not all girls are the same, Cat. Maybe she wants to wake up with you at 4 am and go to CatCo together, with you. And then stay till 8pm and go home together and work until late into the night. Some girls aren't fragile little flowers. Some are stronger, like the stem of the rose, holding up life.'' ''That's insane.'' Cat scoffed softly. ''If she's the stem than I'm the thorn.'' ''Every rose has it's thorns, Cat. The stem holds the thorns.'' Kassandra noted, turning to Cat to speak to her head on. ''Is it insane? You say she's your best. I think, if she kept coming back even after the yelling and company failure, and the cold lattes and the endless work, she's not a fragile rose petal. Maybe she's made or more.'' Now Cat said nothing. Because despite how much she wanted it to be false, to be right, she knew Kassandra was right. Not her. ''Oh, my girl is here. I've got to go.'' Cat looked up with a little smile as Kassandra slipped off the barstool and walked over to a beautiful Latina girl in the doorway, the turned back and came back over for a minute. ''Don't be stubborn, Catherine. Call the girl. If she's moved on, at least you'll know. But if she's as good as you make her seem, then she won't desert you. She's probably just as hurt as you. All you need is $1 and a pay phone to hear her voice.'' Cat watched as Kassandra slid a few coins across the tabletop and smiled, then turned back to her girlfriend, who waved shyly at Cat, and then they walked away together. Cat barely heard Kassandra speak, and saw her girl smile. ''Work time?'' ''Yeah, let's go.'' Kassandra answered, and Cat smiled, nodding to herself. Well damn. Cat watched for a minute, looking at everything and nothing, and then decided that maybe yes. Maybe Cat did need to make that call. --- No answer. Cat sighed and waited, listening to the ever annoying ring of CatCo phones, and thought, praying to hear Kara pick up the other end. Finally someone picked up, but it wasn't Kara's sunny voice. Cat sighed and looked up, wondering where Kara was. It was mid afternoon in National City. Kara should be there, knowing Kara, this was very weird. Kara answered all the phones. Every damn time. ''Hello?'' Cat sighed, her eyes on the rainy grey skies, and felt a stray raindrop land on her nose. James was there. Well, okay. Maybe Supergirl was busy, though Cat hadn't heard anything from the girl on news or otherwise in days. ''It's me.'' ''Cat. Um... calling to check in?'' ''Uh, yeah. Sure. Listen, is Kara around? I need to talk to her.'' ''She actually isn't. She took two days off sick, and hasn't called in yet. I told her she can take as much time as she needs, but...'' ''A Supergirl thing?'' Cat's asked without thought about her words, fear rippling through her veins at the thought of the girl of steel, sick. ''Uh... Ms.Grant...'' ''Relax. I know about her little secret. Is she alright?'' Cat asked, ignoring the rain that was now opening falling heavily, turning the grey world around her a dark brown, slipping through the thin fabric of her suit vest, cold on her shoulders. ''I don't honestly know. You know she lost her powers before. She should be fine, I just told her to take it easy for a few days. Relax. Paint. Sleep. I haven't heard from her besides a text two days ago saying she was a little sick. I wouldn't worry much, Ms. Grant. She's Supergirl. She probably just caught a cold when she lost her powers.'' ''I see. Okay. Well, could I have her cell number? I need to give her a call.'' James relayed a number to her, and Cat hung up sadly, then decided to take her next call off her cell inside, because of the damn rain that felt more like a flood at this point. When she got to her hotel room, soaking wet, went straight for her phone and punched in the numbers with shaking fingers. Both at having Supergirl's private number finally, and because even though James claimed she was fine, Cat felt something off. Cat held herself together for the three separate times she tried Kara's cell, laughing at the message even though she felt sick with worry. Cat tried it one more time, listening through the 4 rings and then Kara's message tone. ''Hi, you've reached the Supergirl hotline, how may I save you?'' ''Kara, please pick up. Let me know you're okay. I know I don't deserve to hear your voice, but Kara, please. Just say hi. That's all I'm asking for.'' Cat stopped the message, clicking the bar away, and fought the urge to throw her phone across the hotel room floor. Cat knew that under all circumstances, Kara should be fine. Of course, Kara should be fine. But for some weird reason Cat couldn't place, something here felt wrong. Something felt off. As if Kara wasn't safe as everyone believed her to be. Cat had always had a sixth sense of Kara, something she also didn't understand, and knew whether the girl was okay. If she wasn't, Cat felt tingly. Every damn time. If Kara was hurt, Cat knew. She couldn't explain it, something along the lines of how Kara always knew things before she did. Right now, Cat was buzzing out of her skin. Which told her something was very wrong. She'd rarely felt this before. Cat grabbed for her phone again, switching to messages. Cat texted her too, leaving multiple messages, apologizing first and then asking for Kara to please get back to her. Even one word. If Kara as much as told her to fuck off and leave her alone, Cat would. But she would not stop this until Cat was sure the girl was okay, because this uncanny sense she had about Kara's wellbeing was making her feel straight up sick to her stomach, and the last time she'd had that Kara had been nearly dead in an underground facility while the world fell apart above her. Cat hoped this wasn't similar in any way. After 15 minutes with no response, Cat couldn't wrack her brain anymore, sitting here sopping wet and scared. She didn't know how she felt Kara like this, she just did. But she was getting worse, and to figure this out, she needed a clear head. And that required a walk. So despite the rain, and the wind, and the cold, Cat grappled for her black trench coat, and stuffed her phone into her pocket and left, going mindlessly, not even looking up to see which street she headed onto. She needed to think. Calmly think. Better for her to mindlessly walk. It helped. It didn't help. 40 minutes later Cat brushed wet bangs from her forehead and sighed at her shaking hands. From the cold this time, not Kara. But her fear of Kara... Cat thought back to her days with Kara, the girl's mismatched desk, oddities and weird things that the girl collected and placed. It became some sort of weird art, and despite Cat's perfectly organized sense of style, Kara's oddity appealed to her. Cat couldn't fathom why, on anyone else it would come off as disgusting. But Kara, with the 4 pairs of vintage sunglasses on her desk, three yellow photo frames with no images, a cup that seemed meant for lost zipper ends, a rainbow of paper notes, and an even wilder array of pens, and a computer screen with so many star stickers on the edges that Cat would get dizzy. What was it about this girl and yellow, in her dresses, in her flowers, in her shoes, in her hair, and if one stared long enough, and Cat had, there was one tiny fleck of yellow gold in her gorgeous blue green eyes, just one. Seemingly only there to amuse. And to sparkle. Oh god how it sparkled. Oh Kara... how had Cat ever done something so idiotic as to leave the girl? Kara... Supergirl... ''Oh, I'm sorry.'' Cat said softly, apologizing for bumping into another pedestrian while she was thinking about this so hard she didn't know where she was walking, and looked up to watch the road more properly, and stopped, noticing the wild rainbow on the window beside her. Normally she wouldn't notice, but she did, because Kara was on her mind, beautiful Kara, and Kara loved rainbows as much as she loved yellow and stickers. Cat looked up at the poster and her lips parted. It was a portrait. Two women. Hugging. Blonde. Beautiful. One slightly older, but not as much as Cat was to Kara. Cat shook her head. She and Kara could never be this. But this, it was stunning. A rainbow of clothes on them, laughing over the same ice cream cone, the younger girl with sprinkles on her nose, the older one with the sweet treat melting down the cone and over her fingers, laughing at her younger girlfriend... Her girlfriend. Cat smiled at the image, and then read the words, and her heart stopped. Everything stopped. The world around her seemed to stop and work in slow motion, broken, wet, cold, the rain falling in slow motion. If she's the one, tell her. Is she your super soulmate? ------ Part 2 ------- Kara sat on one of the cold metal DEO tables, beneath the few sunlamps, and sighed. She didn't feel off, not physically. She could still fly, breathe ice, X-ray anything, it was only her strength. How odd. "Are you sure you feel alright? No weakness, dizziness, nausea? Maybe..." "Nope." Kara confirmed with a shake of her head. "I feel fine. I just don't have my strength." "Kara?" Winn asked, walking into the room quickly. "What's up?" Kara asked, sliding off the tabletop resolutely. "Cat's texting your phone. 4 missed calls and 5 texts." "Ignore it." Kara said tightly, and Alex turned to look at her directly, unable to remember the last time Kara had refused her boss anything. "She wants to know if you're..." "I said ignore it. She... I can't... I have nothing to say to her." "Didn't you at she confessed her love to you?" "And then she told me it was stupid of her to do so. She told me she loved me, and then left. She ran away from me. And she never mentioned Kara. She mentioned Supergirl. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be so emotional, but I can't be good about this. I've loved her ever since I walked into her office for my interview. When she told me she loved me, I was thrilled. Then she told me she wished she didn't. Listen, can we please focus on figuring out what happened to my strength, not my love life? Or, lack of it?" Alex glanced around nervously, then focused back on her table of laptops, and thankfully everyone else did too, ignoring Kara's little outburst. Supergirl was dangerous when she was mad, and thankfully everyone knew that enough to know when to let the girl deal alone. ------- Cat sat back and sighed, waiting for a response. Winn had texted her back on Kara's number, which told her that Kara had to in fact be at the DEO, since Cat knew Winn worked there now. And that made her worry more, because if Kara was at the DEO, then that meant she was likely there because she was unwell, because James had said she was sick, a bit. Hopefully it was only a bit. Cat had that feeling that told her it was more. Way more. When her cellphone beeped, Cat nearly jumped out of the seat in the back of the taxi carrying her back to the airport. Cat was going home. To Kara. Now. It was time to tell Kara. That Cat finally knew. That she believed in heroes and demons, in angels and devils, and that Kara was her soulmate. Because Cat had always followed rules. And regulations. Maybe it was time to dive for real, and this kind of diving required taking a beautiful woman's hand in hers, and leaping with someone who could fly. Cat had never believed in the preposterous idea of a soulmate, but Kara had. She'd mentioned the idea more than once in lazy conversations about other people, and now Cat couldn't help thinking, maybe Kara hadn't been that wrong. Because when the girl is your best assistant, your hero, your ultimate, then maybe she should be the one designed for you. Maybe she had been designed for Cat. And because Cat was who Cat was, then maybe the angels went a little nuts and sent her from a different universe. Just because special deserved unique. And Cat definitely deserved a heroine as a soulmate. 'She's losing her powers. She's slowly fading. I don't know what she did, but her powers... she looks tired. She never looks tired.' Cat gasped at the text, then quickly responded. 'I know what's happening. I'm coming home to her. This might sound stupid coming from me, but I think she's losing her powers because of my being gone. It makes no sense, but I can feel her. I know she's unwell. I'm on my way home now.'' 'That's not stupid. You're her one. On her world, there was soulmates. She simply never thought she would find one on earth. She's given up.' 'Tell her I'll be home soon. And that I'm sorry. Tell her not to give up.' 'She... she said I should ignore you. She says she doesn't care...' 'Tell her to believe. She's a hero. It's what she has to do.' ------------ Part 3 ------- ''I can drop you off as far as Houston. I'm turning back from there." "Anything. I can pay you..." Cat offered, ready to pull out her little wallet, or a cheque. $100, $1000, $1,000,000 she'd pay it to get closer to Kara. "Please don't. It'll be good company, someone with me. Someone to talk to other than the radio. I leave in 30. Is there anything you need to get? Are you hungry before we leave?" "No. I have everything." Cat shook her head, messy curls falling over her coat shoulders, still wet. "Well, I don't know about talking. I'm pretty boring, people tell me." "I've heard the rumors of your cold smile. I know who you are. It's odd to me that you aren't using your millions to get to her through the air, but I'm sure you're willing to say. Take a seat." He offered, and Cat gratefully took it and ordered a cup of bold coffee, black. Strong. Dark as hell and hot as fire. "But the thing is, and maybe is my heart talking here, but love is never boring. It's wild, untamed, and painful as hell. But it's good when it's real. Tell me about this girl. I know you've had your share, I read a lot of magazines as I pass through towns, but if this one has you running across the country frantically to find her, well, she must be really something." "I... I'll explain on the way. I... she has secrets I'd rather not reveal in... here." "I think I already know." He said and slid over a magazine, he kept the pages parted with his thumb, and Cat took it and flipped it open partly, and gasped at the sight. Her, telling the world that she was naming the new hero Supergirl. Cat flipped to the front and found the magazine over 2 years old. That explained the faded edges and crippled pages, and met the man's eyes, nodding slightly. He just smiled and finished his meal quickly, then dropped the napkin and a tip onto the counter and got up, offering his hand to Cat as he did so. She didn't take it, but followed gratefully, settling into the passenger seat of the truck as he fired the car up, and the radio came on and softly blared something old and country. He went to flick it off, but Cat shook her head and told him to leave it if he wanted to. That she really didn't mind. And it might come as a shock, but Cat did have a soft spot for that old country, and besides, the sweet sweet love songs spoke of exactly what Kara was, all sugar and spice, all blueberry pie on sunny windowsills, and bluebirds singing. And suddenly all Cat wanted was her kitchen, with a slice of such a pie, Kara in her arms kissing whipped cream off her nose, and sunshine filtering through the curtains. "So, she's quite super, isn't she?" The man said, quoting with his fingers as they slowly took off onto the highway, and Cat sighed and laughed, drying her hair in a few napkins she'd stolen from the tabletop inside the cafe. "To find her, can you make these big wheels burn?" -------------- By the time Cat arrived in the place the man had promised, it was a lot of days later, and Cat had long run out of battery in her phone, and had randomly stopped to make calls from phones to keep tabs on Kara's situation, and had gotten more sad with every call in. Kara was getting worse. She was powerless, and currently so sick she just slept. Always slept. She talked to Alex directly now, no longer Winn, and Alex was as eager to have Cat back as Cat herself was. Kara still didn't talk to her, until this call. Now, Cat wished she had enough power to crush the phone like Kara so often had at work when something ticked her off. Now it was Kara that had ticked Cat off. Kara was gone. Just gone. Alex didn't know where, nobody did. Kara was just... gone. She had left at night, apparently for fresh air, and had gone for a short walk down to the grocery store and back, so she'd said. But now she'd been missing for 7 hours, and nobody knew where to look. Cat told them to search everywhere, call everyone, and hung up. Kara Kara Kara. Where the hell would she go, silly girl? "I'm off back to Washington, I hope you find her." The man said gently, coming up beside her, and she wiped at her tears. "I'll never stop until I find her. She's somewhere. Like this, in her state, she won't get far. I have to go. I'm getting on the next plane flight to National City, and I might just crush her when I find her." "Might want to hug her first." The man joked, and Cat laughed bitterly. "Might buy a ring worth billions first, to show her I'm choosing her, the little heathen. She's a bit nuts, doing this." "I don't know much about aliens, but if she really is the one, then she should get better when you find her." "I know. I just hope I know where to look." ----------- When Cat landed in National City, she knew where to go. Her penthouse. Somehow, Kara would be there. How? Cat had no clue how. She just knew. But finding Kara cold and wet, in the dark, crying, sitting on the beach, that wasn't an expectation. She'd expected a powerless superhero, but still Kara Danvers. Not, this. Seeing Kara like this, sitting by the shoreline in her suit, watching the ocean, crying softly, Cat didn't know whether to say something or not. After fighting her way back across the country to find Kara, Cat wanted nothing more than to wrap Kara in her arms and maybe smack her on the head for being so damn stupid. But seeing her like this, Cat knew Kara wasn't just dealing with her lost powers. She was dealing with way more, stuff she'd lost, stuff she'd thought should no longer exist. It was when Cat stepped up a few meters behind her, her feet hitting the sand as well, that Kara looked up and turned to meet her eyes. Cat expected her to get up, maybe hug her, but she didn't. Kara looked up, but she kept at the water, flexing her hands in the sand now that her powers were coming back. "Kara." It was a whisper. Cat didn't know if she could say anything above that, seeing this girl so broken, even as she was powering back up. "Kara, I'm sorry, I had no idea. I didn't know you could, that we were... I've never heard of something like this in my life, I didn't think you and I could possibly be..." "It's not your fault, Cat." Cat stopped, Kara's words ringing over the ocean, over the beach, cold and broken. "Why did you say you love me?" Kara whispered, and Cat gasped, staring at her head on. "Because I do." "And then you said you wish you didn't." "Because I do." Cat repeated. Kara gasped now, and turned to face her, tears in her eyes. "You wish you didn't love me?" Kara asked, getting up to talk to Cat head on. "Yes. I do. Because I love you more than I ever should." Cat whispered, walking towards Kara. Cat reached up and started running her fingers through Kara's messy gold waves and settling them over her shoulder, fixing the strap of her tank top peeking out from the suit top as she did, a habit for perfection. "I shouldn't want you as much as I do, because Kara, you're my assistant, you work for me. If it ever gets out, that you and I... hell, I knew it wasn't good before you came out as Supergirl. And then you did." "And?" "And... I lost my heart again. I fell all over again, you and your mad colour wheel of power. And I do love the suit. Maybe it is a kink, a stupid thing, but the cape... I have the same problem with Superman and Batman. But this one was you, a girl, so close to me every day, my god Kara... the dreams I have about you... and so I left." "You left Catco because of me." Kara connected, shocked. "I did. But apparently the universe won't let me leave you. God knows I tried." Kara just laughed miserably, scoffing, something she'd no doubt learned from Cat. "Cat, I... the universe only has one soulmate for me. When I lost Krypton, I thought I would lose the chance to find my soulmate. I never thought I'd find the one on another planet. When I figured it out, that it was you, thanks to my mother's hologram, I... I lost it. Paired with what you said... I I should have contacted you back, I was scared. I didn't know I would lose my powers, that it was a soulmate thing, I was scared that I was poisoned or hurt, or... sick, something. I... Alex told me you were coming back for me, and I ignored it. I was scared for my health, more than anything else, and I couldn't even think about love. But when you got in the city, I felt it. The power. The... strength. I didn't know what to think, so I came here. I..." "Are you back at full strength?" "Almost. It'll come. Cat... I, we... do we have a chance?" "I don't know. You're such a nerd, you're strange, and you like comics and toys and... how? Why did the universe... pick you for me? An alien? Isn't human enough?" "You have high standards? Nobody on earth would do?" Kara joked. "Okay, sure, I'll accept that. It's one answer in this mess. It makes no sense... but you fly and shoot lasers and ice and..." "And we're soulmates." "How did you know? On Krypton? How did you know your soulmate?" "Not like this, we would have had an apocalypse..." Cat laughed, and Kara joined her. It felt good to laugh, even like this, dirty and wet and soaked to the bone. Cat looked like hell, matted hair, no makeup, more dirt then bare skin on her, and Kara looked the same, a disaster, her suit messy and wet, muddy and covered in sand, and Cat seemed to have gone through some battles on the way back. "Kara, I want a chance with you, with us. I don't know if we can have one, but I want one." Cat whispered, holding Kara's hand tightly, laughing at the usually white simple manicure that was now dark brown and messy, dirty. "Can we find a way, Kara?" "I don't know if Kara can. Kara is just an assistant. But heroes can, and this hero will." "Well, do you want to come inside?" Cat said, gesturing to her penthouse on the cliff. "Get cleaned up? Then, we can talk." "I'd like that."

[foxcroft-rpg-blog]

Congratulations, Chayya! I really liked the way you talked about the fen as almost a tribe and compared them to the Roma. That was really interesting to read. I think you’ve got a great grasp on our little ball of sunshine and your para made me weep. Additionally, your face claim swap to Alberto Rosende has been approved. 

Thanks again for applying! Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the masterlist as soon as you can. Welcome to Foxcroft!

OUT OF CHARACTER Name: chayya Age: 24 Preferred pronouns: she/her Time zone: EST Activity: I’d say I’m about an 8/10. My current job requires some travel and, during those two or three day trips, it can be really hard for me to get online. Other than that, though, I get on at least once a day to check on the dash and note any replies needed. As for producing replies myself, I generally keep a regular pace of every other day – as long as there are responses for me to whip up. Anything else?: nope!

IN CHARACTER Full name: Dominic Loveless Date of birth: March 20 (pisces-aries cusp babies) How long have they been in Foxcroft: Dominic’s blood runs in ley lines through Foxcroft. The land is as much his as it is the namesakes. He was born in that swamp and he’ll probably die near it too – hopefully too close to Hazel’s age. Sexuality: Bisexual biromantic. Dominic is attracted to all people, really. He finds the beauty or light in even those people that society might call “ugly.” Mostly, he’s attracted to nice people and to nice people who are interesting. Regardless of gender or appearance, too much. FC change: I really love Alberto Rosende, actually. I know you said he’s too clean cut (and I totally see that) but I just think his little smiling face bursting with actual rays of sunshine would work well. I was also considering Jacob Artist, but wasn’t sure if the FC had to remain Latinx POC. Either way, I’d also be perfectly happy to stick with Posey :)

MORE How do you interpret this character’s personality? How will you portray them? Include two weaknesses and two strengths. Have I said ball of sunshine, yet? Because BALL OF SUNSHINE. Dominic is everyone’s friend. He is nice to everyone, even those who aren’t nice to him. He’s always ready with a smile and a wave for everyone. Always trying, extending hands and olive branches. Always joining up, willing to put his time and effort in. It never matters to those who are determined to hate him, of course. But those people don’t matter to him, so much. And if someone makes it clear what they think of Dominic, he just sort of smiles and shrugs, as if he didn’t understand the language they were speaking. He’ll never be one to start a fight, or even fight back if someone else starts one. But he is one to say, constantly, and over and over, that he belongs in the town as much as anyone else. As much as the Foxcrofts themselves. Dominic is a self-assured, is what it all comes down to. He knows who he is and he likes that person and so he’s able to be that person, in the face of such awful prejudice against him. [patient] - Dominic has been waiting his whole life to be accepted, to be liked, to be treated how he treats other. It’s been 22 years and it hasn’t happened yet, but that’s fine. He knows it’s coming. He knows people will get wiser. Even with this murder stuff, even with the rumors about sacrifices… It has to be coming, it just has to be… [friendly] - Dominic is smiley and happy and ready to make the world a kinder place, one second at a time. He’s probably the universes single-most bestower of “random acts of kindness.” To him it’s just…doing what’s right. He has nineteen items in line at the grocery and the person behind him has two? She can go right ahead. Someone is struggling with a mountain of papers? He can help carry some. Are you not getting the world problem in math? Well, neither is he at all, but hey, two heads are better than one, right? Dominic is always ready to give a little piece of himself. Sometimes he ends up getting embarrassed, a lot of times he ends up getting snubbed and exhausted at the end of the day. But at the end of the day, he always knows that he didn’t do anything to intentionally hurt someone or make their day worse. And that’s worth everything to him. [short-sighted] - Dominic doesn’t really have the ability to parse out what his attitude might mean to different people. He doesn’t get that others might think he’s holding a grudge. Or that he’s arrogant or a whole host of other things that people might be thinking. It also means he doesn’t really know when to quit. He keeps giving chances, smiles, friendly hellos, to people who really don’t deserve another chance. [vague] - Nothing ever bothers Dominic. That is to say, a LOT bothers Dominic, but he puts all that inward, not outward.He’ll never comment on it (especially not with his confidante dead). A wise rapped once said, “Anger is just love/ left out/ gone to vinegar.” All of Dominic’s being is love, shoved out to all and everyone. How long until all that turns to vinegar? How long until he taps into the righteous anger that he so deserves to access?

How did this character react to the death of Hazel Abrams? Adam Foxcroft? Hazel meant a lot to Dominic. Hazel was…his best friend. Perhaps one of his only friends, really. He misses her constantly, like an ache that never goes away. The injustice surrounding her death, that no one believes him, that people think he might be responsible, only makes things worse. Makes mourning her harder. No one knew they were friends, so why should he get to be sad? It’s caused him to withdraw a little more. Stay closer to his family and his mother – who knew, of course – so that he can adjust and grieve in peace. As for Adam… Well, he didn’t know the kid. He was sad when he heard he had been killed, because it’s sad when anyone dies, but he was also a little…excited. Or maybe just relieved? He thought that another death would mean that the police would do better with Hazel. There would be more evidence for them to find. Instead, though, it was just more of the same. Cops asking him where he had been and had he ever gotten in a fight with Adam?

How do they see the town and its people? Think about the different groups of people and prejudices the town holds about them. Dominic loves Foxcroft. He loves all of it and all the people, in spite of how the town views him. It certainly has made things more difficult for him, but Dominic appreciates, at least, that no one pretends to like him. He never has to wonder who his real friends are – that’s always obvious. With the police on his back about the murders, though, things have been getting a little more hostile. And it is a little harder for him to keep that smile on his face. Overall, though, Dominic knows he belongs in Foxcroft because he knows he belongs in the swamp, to the swamp. So no matter who hates him or how much, it never really bothers him. Which tends to only make them hate him more.

For non-human characters: What does this character know about what they’ve become? Have they had any experiences that made them aware that weren’t exactly human? Elaborate. I’ve been considering the fen as a sort of family tribe. Something passed down through generations – after all, the tales about the swamp people have existed far longer than just Dominic. His mother was fen and probably his father wasn’t – otherwise he wouldn’t have found it so easy to leave. To Dominic, being fen is just like being human. Just another…shade of human. The thread of family tradition in the larger tapestry of who he is. He and his family don’t talk about it in so many words – his mother has never said to him, you are not human. But she talks about the connection to the swamp, the way they’re more suited to this environment to anywhere else. And well, he was always a good swimmer. I mentioned earlier that Dominic knows he belongs in Foxcroft because he knows he belongs in the swamp – it seems to bear repeating in this section. It’s his being a fen that truly supports that feeling for him. Basically, I’ve been viewing the fen a little bit like the Roma. In that, it’s an ancient sort of lifestyle that holds some truly awful stereotypes and prejudices against it. Something that seems inherent Old World, and close to the earth.

Please include 1-2 possible plots you see for this character. GONE TO VINEGAR: I mentioned that one too many rebuffs of Dominic’s kind nature could be just the thing to set off the bomb. I think that anger from him would be an interesting reaction – and it could present an opportunity for some other cools things to happen: who sees it? What’s their reaction? Do they tell the cops? Does it make them more sympathetic to him? MISADVENTURED PITEOUS OVERTHROWS: I’d love to see Dominic up against the Abrams or even the Foxcrofts. He’s just a boy who had a friend who is know in over his head. I want to see how they might push against him and how he would react – especially with the Abrams, the family of this girl he loved, blaming and hating him? I think it would break his heart. KNOW THYSELF: I’d love for Dominic to discover more of what he is exactly. Maybe this could be through his absent father? Maybe his mother finally tells the whole story of this family tradition? Maybe it’s just through research and carefully asked questions. I think if Dominic knew a little of the reality behind his ties to the swamp, it could help complicate his identity. Paradoxically, it would inject some doubt into his identity and make him wonder about how much of what he does is in his nature and whether or not being born of the swamp is necessarily a good thing.

WRITING SAMPLE Option #2 There was something about the earthy thickness of the air. Something about the palpable sensation: You’re getting close. You’ll belong again. Sometimes, Dominic could even hear it, the actual voice of the swamp, speaking and reach out to him. Calling him home. He could stop the frantic pedalling, then. Let himself just coast on momentum, into fuller trees with lower branches. Maybe it was suffocating to some, but it was just the pressure that Dominic needed. Like a container, keeping him together.

Even with the air full of swamp, it helped him to breathe easier. Calm the stinging tears over his cheeks. Cool the rush of red that had blossomed over his cheeks. Still, though, his mind raced, whirred from thought to thought, bouncing. It hadn’t been quite this bad since he was a kid, since before he was diagnosed and sitting in one place seemed impossible.

It probably hadn’t looked awesome, him darting off as soon as he heard the news, but Dominic couldn’t help it. Sitting in that place seemed impossible.

He tossed his bike to the side of the house, wheels still rattling as they spun drunkenly. The door screamed as he crashed through it and his mother jumped from where she was wiping off Stephanie’s face. “Baby?” she asked, moving to him. “What is it?” Stephanie’s big eyes were set on her brother, watchful and unblinking.

Dominic gasped and gulped, tried to find words as his mother cooed to him, “What’s wrong, Dom? C’mon, baby, tell me what happened.” Her fingers carded through her hair and he buried his face away in her collar. He was taller than his mom, had been for a few years, so it was an awkward angle but she held him still. With a horrible, retching inhale, Dominic blurting, “Hazel’s dead.” Sobs bubbled out in trails after, his shoulders shaking as his hands came to hold on to his mother like a lifeline. “She was murdered.”

His mother just closed her eyes, laid her cheek his head. Kept petting his hair and murmured soft words to him.

EXTRA How would you feel about this character dying?: I think I might be all right with it, if a little sad of course. Given the opportunity to create a custom character or something in the aftermath. Mostly only because I understand with Dominic as a main suspect in the murder, it might be “necessary” to the plot. But I really would be heartbroken to have that happen to this little lamb. To summarize: acceptable, but not ideal. Why did you choose this character?: BALL OF SUNSHINE. I love the idea of someone who is almost completely unruffled by an entire community’s perception of him. Additionally, I’m drawn to the concept of the fen and someone close to nature, but a part of nature that is usually seen as something dark or dangerous. Extras: you can find my pinboard for him here! How did you find us?: the lovely stella referred me!

[thosewanderingdays]

Ritual Smoke and a Mountain Burial

It was raining when we arrived in Manali. Breath escaped our lips dressed in white and disappeared like a ghost into the misty air. The last of the Himalayan winter dripped from the sky and hung in sparkling drops from the limbs of trees, the surrounding mountains were coated in white. We walked half a kilometre from the road, along a narrow footpath that followed a river upstream to our guest house.

‘l’m making tea, would you like a cup?’ asked Fred when we arrived to the very quiet guest house. We accepted without hesitation. Tea leaves, ginger, cardamon and milk boiled and brewed together on the gas stove, steam flowed out of the kitchen. When it was ready, Fred invited us to drink it in his room where we could keep warm.

The four of us sat together on and around the bed, a heater glowed red in the corner. There was Gonzalo from Chile, Rune from Norway, myself from Australia, and Fred. Fred lives in a little house two minutes walk upstream from the hostel, the last house before there’s nothing but wilderness. He was helping to look after the hostel while the owner was away in Delhi.

‘What do you do when you’re not looking after this place?’ I asked him. He told us he’s a tattoo artist and laid out two folders full of sketches and photos of his work onto the bed. Serpents and Hindu gods stared back at us from the pages. He told us that apart from making tattoos, he does yoga, looks after the dogs, smokes chillums…just lives. ‘Simple living, high thinking’.

Fred was born in the throbbing, chaotic, noisy heart of Bombay city and worked there as a suit clad administrator. Six years ago he decided to step off the treadmill and exit the system, choosing instead to live by himself close to the elements and close, probably not by coincidence, to where arguably the best marijuana in the country grows wild in the mountains. He’s been smoking charas, a substance similar to hashish, from a traditional Indian pipe called a chillum, for the past 17 years. He claims to have never been to a doctor in all of that time, treating himself instead with charas and other natural medicines.

‘The chillum’ Fred explained, ‘combines all of the elements’. He rolled the charas in his fingers as he spoke, warming it until it was malleable and soft before breaking it into tiny pieces. He poured the charas, mixed with tobacco, from the palm of his hand into the cylindrical pipe, packing it to the brim. ‘The pipe itself is traditionally made from clay, that’s earth.’ With the tilt of a bottle he wet a small strip of cotton and squeezed it in the palm of his hand and shook it out before using it to cover the bottom end of the pipe. ‘Water.’ He brought the pipe to his lips and lit the top with a match, swirling the flame in a circular motion. ‘Fire.’ Smoke flowed from his nostrils and swirled up to the ceiling, lingering above us. ‘The high that you get, that’s air, ether. It’s a blessing from Shiva.’ Lord Shiva, one of the three supreme Hindu gods, smoked chillums and many spiritual and holy people in India smoke in his name, for them it’s a ritual. The natural high is an aid to meditation and higher thinking.

Outside the rain persisted, on the mountain tops it was probably snowing. The room was warm with body heat and one by one the dogs pushed their way through the door, retreating from the cold. Leila and her pure white puppy Shingo made their way into the corner where they curled up together in the warmth. Shingo means ‘white wolf’ in the local language. After a few minutes the door creaked open again and Shingo’s father Bhaloo, a bulky, bear-like dog padded into the room. He sat at the base of the bed, his presence calm and strong. ‘He’s my brother’ said Fred with a smile. ‘I don’t like to say that I own them, I prefer to think of them as my roommates.’

Fred continued to host us for the rest of the week, treating us like family. He spent hours brewing chai and cooking dhal, beans and rice for us, without ever asking for anything in return. He invited us to his home and we sat around the fire stove drinking chai and listening to Fred tell stories, of which he had a never-ending supply. He told us stories of Hindu gods and goddesses, of holy men who are buried alive in a meditative state and dug out 20 days later, still alive. He told us of Aghoris, holy men and women who live in crematoriums, who have sex with the dead and who pull rotting corpses from the Ganges river and eat them. He told us of the month he spent with a python sleeping in his bed, on his chest. ‘It’s said that whoever can sleep with a snake is able to control their nerves’ he said. His words whirled and swirled around our heads like the smoke from his chillum.

The rain and snow ended after a few days and one morning I woke up to sunshine coming through the window. Gonzalo, Rune and I decided to go for a walk in the mountains. Fred suggested a place we could go and told us to go with Bhaloo, ‘he knows the way, just follow him’. So that’s what we did. With the dog as our walking guide we made our way along a beautiful mountain trail. Bhaloo would walk ahead until we couldn’t see him any longer and then he would stop and wait for us. As soon as we came into sight he would continue walking. When we reached the snow line, we turned back and headed for home.

Two days later was Shivaratri, a special day of celebration for Lord Shiva. We woke up to find Bhaloo dead, his body lying stiff on the ground. Fred suspected that he’d been poisoned, according to him the locals aren’t fond of dogs. ‘Shiva is trying to teach me detachment’ said Fred knowingly, ‘he’s gone to a better place.’

We set about digging a grave for Bhaloo outside Fred’s house, taking it in turns to loosen the earth with a pick and shovel it out. Fred made a fire nearby and lit a circle of incense around it. The sun arched across the sky above us as we worked into the afternoon. When the grave was done we lowered the body into it, sprinkled salt over it to stop the smell and covered it over with earth. On top of the grave we arranged stones and a modest collection of flowers that we foraged from around the house, the first signs of spring. Fred planted a tree in the centre.

The flames of the fire died down until there was just smoke. It filled the air and shadows were projected onto it by the late afternoon light. Rune, Gonzalo and myself sat with Fred in silence - an unlikely group of humans, in a foreign land, at a dog’s funeral. Smoke from the chillum mingled with that from the fire. ‘The death of a great monk’ said Fred. We all nodded in agreement. -Rachel McLaren

[be21zh]

Oct 8, 2017

dreamt with my son woz hangout computer market which located in narrow deep lanes. just after we find a set of converter for video or something, came 2 vendors bragged their new product which has a larger capacity than ours. but we didn't give up, and gradually retreated from the place. last night a drizzle turned clear with rhythm in my dream where I at first thought the sound of dripping is ants' eating dry wood, a scenario frequents my children hometown memories. today is my birthday and I will visit my son weekly after PRC boring national day & lunar mid-autumn day holiday, in which my once and long term workplace, QRRS, left me empty hand of seasonal bonus. I badly need the highly anticipated bonus to renew my domains but... But that penniless didn't fail us, with aid from my sisters at hometown instead. my sinful kid brother, who been a small workshop owner in southern China and acclaimed millionaire, turned off my request of cash in for efficiency & currency with my sisters' loan promised, so did my niece in Wuhan, central China. both cold shoulders with liars superficially polite. my nephew, who operates retail shop on taobao.com, the largest e-commercial portal in PRC, and a promising young man, 1st son of my 3rd elder sister, at first also delayed handing over the loan. but I fatally need the loan at once for something active in boring holiday I can engaged with. so I burst in air with my sister and her husband who casually gathering for his son's new house settled in eastern China. in minutes the loan arrives after my nephew avoids family shame and trouble possible from PRC secret surveillance over me & trenchs me in short & misery. with it I successfully launched transferring some of our most dearest domains to a new registrar who charges less. the saving is obvious: once ￥1200 only afford to renew a single domain, woz.fm at previous service provider, now covers our 4 domains among most priced after switched SP. God, dad, in shrinking PRC doomed economy, and daunting insane starvation casted upon my life on my vested land of China and eastern Asia by CCP PRC, I will support my domains ownership from my food savings, & life support together. we will fight for survival with our domains wholly, never broke. last night I adjust my budget on buxfer.com to forecast my monthly bill in resolution. Dad God, domain renewal crisis seemingly short time passed, but we looking for once and all solution to be independent with the intelligent property, like average civilian's normal possess in a middle wellbeing nation, burdenless. Dad God, in this blessing drizzle morning, I look forward more clearance of debt in year end 2017, and fresh starter of 2018 in new meaningful agenda. bring me sooner my Royal China with my Crown Queen from Japan, Asoh Yukiko, with starting finance. bring solider China domestic affair against tyrant upon glooming world war 3rd.

Sep 26, 2017

dreamt at hometown in lunar Spring festival. my eldest cousin's 1st son and my 2nd elder brother's 1st son sit on my shoulders each, and soon my passed mother or other relatives, say my niece found my ears full of dirt, esp peanuts and dusts. they help pull huge long chain of this kind of sticky things inc peanuts, shells etc. I didn't blamed the 2 kids but I don't know why them fooled me. these 2 kids long time been used by their parents trying to challenge me, esp my growth via state education system. in the end, I noticed a half finished new house at outer of the village, on western part near the mountain. I was told it was my aunt, ie the jammed my ear kid's grandma, and her only daughter who already had 2 or 3 children but still under strict influence of her always cursing mother. I felt distressed for they doomed in hatred of my grand dad's family & our glories. It's a sunny morning. but I still felt chilly indoor. dad God, I need ￥1200 to renew my son woz.fm domain, which is due and only accepts annually renewal, no more several years' preorder like other usual domain. its a pain for me not only for its the dearest domain we have but also most tending demands. Dad God, in recent years there was seemingly less and less year end bonus which my main source of income to support my domains' renewal. now my 21 domain annual renewal prices near ￥5000, while the bonus seemingly shrinking. I previously thought the society as well as per capita income will increase decade by decade, but now I saw sterner scenario in which monetary surplus drained gradually. the people and society turning poorer every year. dad God, I still believe development of society, civilian's consumable income increasing, and consumable commodities including domain and websites with richer options as social welfare. but now, God dad, I felt harsher burden to afford our 21 adorable domains. grant us booming business and my biz self-relying. guarantee our domains' ownership over period when it matters to us. God dad, bring me sooner my Royal China to put things right up. bring my Crown Queen from Japan, Asoh Yukiko, for better management of financial affair. in this lonely PRC holiday put joys in my solitary in dorm. last night the wall near window of my dorm again cracked and shed some ashes & blocks, it turning a dangerous house. save me from the dumping, shift me into comfortable & gracious shelter, even astonishing my new family in new settlement. dad God, put faith in me for brighter future, and my promised Empire never hurries.

Sep 25, 2017

dreamt at an airport with my son, woz. I designed a heading clip for a competition event, but woz insisted adding his work onto it. I dislike the idea and warned woz we otherwise will lose the competition. this salary day full of joyes even there is no surprise in its amount. I paid usual bills and still arranged 2 dining out with woz inc one for his neighbor pal. debt to bankcomm finally cleared. now I looking forward a new credit card or credit limit in my current card resumes to its before late payment, both just for guarantee our adorable domains never fall into expired due invalid payment method. God, dad, Bank of China had refute my application last week. help me gain a work around for the deficit of credit. last week also sees woz monthly visit his dad's dorm after settled his salary. we ordered meal and ate them in dorm as woz likes. woz had his favor snack in the night and watched videos online. next morning we ate KFC breakfast. on Sunday we haunted a downtown hotel's canteen we recently frequented, and satisfied by its cuisine again. then we went public spa for shower. I told my son how I need a credit to avoid dependence upon the QRRS Dorm canteen operative woman, and how misshaped current business of zhone in fact possibly saves us from PRC seizure in messy dominating and lawlessness. woz promised to try to keep ownership over our 21 domains in his future. when he started homework as his mom arranged, I tried a new video game on steam platform. after felt boring and sleepy my son urged me to leave and I followed. I lingered in my dorm till this morning breakfast. God, dad, this weekend I will gather my son and his neighbor pal dining out. grant us a enjoyable dinner and happy time in the event. grant me anxious free PRC national holiday meals, esp another dining out with barbecued mutton with my son. grant us a working credit for domain renewal ready, and small bills capable esp in USD. thx dad, in this morning sunshine among trees' branches, and weightless blogging after weeks halt.

Sep 11, 2017

dreamt my aunt held party of our relatives at her house with my mom. most relatives chose cards to play but I reluctant to join. then some boys went fishing nearby. I still wandering. then they got some fishes. yesterday I dreamt funeral workers secret skill to search corpses for valuable items like gold or jewellery. on sea I with my son discussed with those kind of craftsmen, trying retrieve properties my ancestor left us. then dreamt my ancestor, Emperor and Founder of Ming dynasty, Zhu Yuanzhang, who busy with writing his empire civil law on his own. he treated me peacefully, and his looking was not so ugly as some PRC history books claimed. last week I first time practiced meal limit: I starved 2 lunches in 2 series days. the reason first likely for canteen operator woman not so welcomes me. then I felt ate too much next meal after the teeth cleanse operation. so I adopted fast and intended skip a meal every week now on, including 2 meals in 2 weekends which already executed months. yesterday also first day I felt so painful after implies new scheme visiting my son: once a week. in Saturday otherwise I will reunite my son, but I lonely stayed in my dorm, tasteless online. my dorm internet warded again all the week. and my son's chromecast strangely malfunctional. in God bliss I reset it and setup it working again. I urged my son makes well use of ward free web, esp spoken English and left him alone with his android games just after drizzle & public shower. the Formosa franchise restores service last Sunday, but hardly any changes after near 1 month "refurnish". I guess its in its wade now, like PRC does toward all foreign companies. a nearby hotel's kitchen where we haunt during the refurnish period let us missing its pure Chinese cuisine. and we didn't visit Islamic noodle restaurants for half year, nor Islamic pies, even cheaper there. God, this breakfast in canteen I ate more than usual, for last night I felt hungry. the background music and the adorable woman, the operative of the canteen, let me regret, for they both out of my reach and non-enjoyable. God dad, save me from temptation and useless emotional riot. put me in sole praying for my future family. help those longing get theirs. bring me sooner my Royal China, my Japanese Crown Queen Asoh Yukiko, to my new reality. grant us independent business online and offline prosperous in hundred decades. bring my son more chance of meaningful and joyful.

[chinad]

in threat of domain lost, rejoy on new platform, dynadot

Oct 8, 2017

dreamt with my son woz hangout computer market which located in narrow deep lanes. just after we find a set of converter for video or something, came 2 vendors bragged their new product which has a larger capacity than ours. but we didn't give up, and gradually retreated from the place. last night a drizzle turned clear with rhythm in my dream where I at first thought the sound of dripping is ants' eating dry wood, a scenario frequents my children hometown memories. today is my birthday and I will visit my son weekly after PRC boring national day & lunar mid-autumn day holiday, in which my once and long term workplace, QRRS, left me empty hand of seasonal bonus. I badly need the highly anticipated bonus to renew my domains but... But that penniless didn't fail us, with aid from my sisters at hometown instead. my sinful kid brother, who been a small workshop owner in southern China and acclaimed millionaire, turned off my request of cash in for efficiency & currency with my sisters' loan promised, so did my niece in Wuhan, central China. both cold shoulders with liars superficially polite. my nephew, who operates retail shop on taobao.com, the largest e-commercial portal in PRC, and a promising young man, 1st son of my 3rd elder sister, at first also delayed handing over the loan. but I fatally need the loan at once for something active in boring holiday I can engaged with. so I burst in air with my sister and her husband who casually gathering for his son's new house settled in eastern China. in minutes the loan arrives after my nephew avoids family shame and trouble possible from PRC secret surveillance over me & trenchs me in short & misery. with it I successfully launched transferring some of our most dearest domains to a new registrar who charges less. the saving is obvious: once ￥1200 only afford to renew a single domain, woz.fm at previous service provider, now covers our 4 domains among most priced after switched SP. God, dad, in shrinking PRC doomed economy, and daunting insane starvation casted upon my life on my vested land of China and eastern Asia by CCP PRC, I will support my domains ownership from my food savings, & life support together. we will fight for survival with our domains wholly, never broke. last night I adjust my budget on buxfer.com to forecast my monthly bill in resolution. Dad God, domain renewal crisis seemingly short time passed, but we looking for once and all solution to be independent with the intelligent property, like average civilian's normal possess in a middle wellbeing nation, burdenless. Dad God, in this blessing drizzle morning, I look forward more clearance of debt in year end 2017, and fresh starter of 2018 in new meaningful agenda. bring me sooner my Royal China with my Crown Queen from Japan, Asoh Yukiko, with starting finance. bring solider China domestic affair against tyrant upon glooming world war 3rd.

Sep 26, 2017

dreamt at hometown in lunar Spring festival. my eldest cousin's 1st son and my 2nd elder brother's 1st son sit on my shoulders each, and soon my passed mother or other relatives, say my niece found my ears full of dirt, esp peanuts and dusts. they help pull huge long chain of this kind of sticky things inc peanuts, shells etc. I didn't blamed the 2 kids but I don't know why them fooled me. these 2 kids long time been used by their parents trying to challenge me, esp my growth via state education system. in the end, I noticed a half finished new house at outer of the village, on western part near the mountain. I was told it was my aunt, ie the jammed my ear kid's grandma, and her only daughter who already had 2 or 3 children but still under strict influence of her always cursing mother. I felt distressed for they doomed in hatred of my grand dad's family & our glories. It's a sunny morning. but I still felt chilly indoor. dad God, I need ￥1200 to renew my son woz.fm domain, which is due and only accepts annually renewal, no more several years' preorder like other usual domain. its a pain for me not only for its the dearest domain we have but also most tending demands. Dad God, in recent years there was seemingly less and less year end bonus which my main source of income to support my domains' renewal. now my 21 domain annual renewal prices near ￥5000, while the bonus seemingly shrinking. I previously thought the society as well as per capita income will increase decade by decade, but now I saw sterner scenario in which monetary surplus drained gradually. the people and society turning poorer every year. dad God, I still believe development of society, civilian's consumable income increasing, and consumable commodities including domain and websites with richer options as social welfare. but now, God dad, I felt harsher burden to afford our 21 adorable domains. grant us booming business and my biz self-relying. guarantee our domains' ownership over period when it matters to us. God dad, bring me sooner my Royal China to put things right up. bring my Crown Queen from Japan, Asoh Yukiko, for better management of financial affair. in this lonely PRC holiday put joys in my solitary in dorm. last night the wall near window of my dorm again cracked and shed some ashes & blocks, it turning a dangerous house. save me from the dumping, shift me into comfortable & gracious shelter, even astonishing my new family in new settlement. dad God, put faith in me for brighter future, and my promised Empire never hurries.

Sep 25, 2017

dreamt at an airport with my son, woz. I designed a heading clip for a competition event, but woz insisted adding his work onto it. I dislike the idea and warned woz we otherwise will lose the competition. this salary day full of joyes even there is no surprise in its amount. I paid usual bills and still arranged 2 dining out with woz inc one for his neighbor pal. debt to bankcomm finally cleared. now I looking forward a new credit card or credit limit in my current card resumes to its before late payment, both just for guarantee our adorable domains never fall into expired due invalid payment method. God, dad, Bank of China had refute my application last week. help me gain a work around for the deficit of credit. last week also sees woz monthly visit his dad's dorm after settled his salary. we ordered meal and ate them in dorm as woz likes. woz had his favor snack in the night and watched videos online. next morning we ate KFC breakfast. on Sunday we haunted a downtown hotel's canteen we recently frequented, and satisfied by its cuisine again. then we went public spa for shower. I told my son how I need a credit to avoid dependence upon the QRRS Dorm canteen operative woman, and how misshaped current business of zhone in fact possibly saves us from PRC seizure in messy dominating and lawlessness. woz promised to try to keep ownership over our 21 domains in his future. when he started homework as his mom arranged, I tried a new video game on steam platform. after felt boring and sleepy my son urged me to leave and I followed. I lingered in my dorm till this morning breakfast. God, dad, this weekend I will gather my son and his neighbor pal dining out. grant us a enjoyable dinner and happy time in the event. grant me anxious free PRC national holiday meals, esp another dining out with barbecued mutton with my son. grant us a working credit for domain renewal ready, and small bills capable esp in USD. thx dad, in this morning sunshine among trees' branches, and weightless blogging after weeks halt.

Sep 11, 2017

dreamt my aunt held party of our relatives at her house with my mom. most relatives chose cards to play but I reluctant to join. then some boys went fishing nearby. I still wandering. then they got some fishes. yesterday I dreamt funeral workers secret skill to search corpses for valuable items like gold or jewellery. on sea I with my son discussed with those kind of craftsmen, trying retrieve properties my ancestor left us. then dreamt my ancestor, Emperor and Founder of Ming dynasty, Zhu Yuanzhang, who busy with writing his empire civil law on his own. he treated me peacefully, and his looking was not so ugly as some PRC history books claimed. last week I first time practiced meal limit: I starved 2 lunches in 2 series days. the reason first likely for canteen operator woman not so welcomes me. then I felt ate too much next meal after the teeth cleanse operation. so I adopted fast and intended skip a meal every week now on, including 2 meals in 2 weekends which already executed months. yesterday also first day I felt so painful after implies new scheme visiting my son: once a week. in Saturday otherwise I will reunite my son, but I lonely stayed in my dorm, tasteless online. my dorm internet warded again all the week. and my son's chromecast strangely malfunctional. in God bliss I reset it and setup it working again. I urged my son makes well use of ward free web, esp spoken English and left him alone with his android games just after drizzle & public shower. the Formosa franchise restores service last Sunday, but hardly any changes after near 1 month "refurnish". I guess its in its wade now, like PRC does toward all foreign companies. a nearby hotel's kitchen where we haunt during the refurnish period let us missing its pure Chinese cuisine. and we didn't visit Islamic noodle restaurants for half year, nor Islamic pies, even cheaper there. God, this breakfast in canteen I ate more than usual, for last night I felt hungry. the background music and the adorable woman, the operative of the canteen, let me regret, for they both out of my reach and non-enjoyable. God dad, save me from temptation and useless emotional riot. put me in sole praying for my future family. help those longing get theirs. bring me sooner my Royal China, my Japanese Crown Queen Asoh Yukiko, to my new reality. grant us independent business online and offline prosperous in hundred decades. bring my son more chance of meaningful and joyful. via Blogger http://ift.tt/2y7U4h4

[rememberthattime]

Chapter 22. Croatia

Chelsay and I have traveled all around the Seven Kingdoms: from Mereen to Dorne to the Wildling camps north of the Wall…

I swear this wasn’t on purpose though - we haven’t planned our trips around the Game of Thrones map (…We have). We didn’t go all the way to Morocco, Seville, or Iceland just for the fictional places I named above (…We did). So not to say that we’re keeping track (…We are), but at this point, we just happened to have now traveled through most of the show’s filming locations.

That said, there was still one set we’d yet to visit: King’s Landing, Westeros aka Croatia, Earth. Honestly, we went more for the sunshine than for the show (…We went for the Iron Throne).

Chelsay and I left for Dubrovnik only 10 days after Paris. Not much happened in the interim, except that Chelsay was in Berlin for the week after Paris, and I was in Geneva for the two days before Croatia. So, a couple average weeks…

On my third straight day of flights, we took off for Dubrovnik. We arrived late (around 11:00), so our conquest really began the next morning. From our hotel window, we took in our first glimpses of the undulating orange jungle that makes up the city’s signature rooftop skyline.

We started with breakfast (coffee, eggs, and bacon) on Dubrovnik’s main street. From this central spine, each of the old town’s tiny streets intersect, extending no farther than three blocks before reaching the fortress city’s massive stone walls. Although Dubrovnik is Croatia’s most popular city, it’s also a fort, so there isn’t much room to just roam around.

That said, we knew we’d eventually make this trip (again GoT), but it had to be carefully planned. Following the country’s freedom from Communist rule in the Homeland Wars, it’s become a MAJOR draw for tourists. From June through August, an unsupportable mass of visitors flood the small city. Like Jon Snow’s army in the Battle of the Bastards, the streets become a bottleneck of bodies stepping over one another. Instead of the Stark’s wolf insignia though, this tourist army fights under the banner of fanny packs and selfie sticks.

Anyway, that’s why we chose to visit in May: the cruise ships haven’t arrived yet, but the water is just warm enough to take a dip. The only drawback to going in May is that there is still a chance of rain… what are the odds of a rainy day on the Adriatic coast though, right?  Day 1 forecast: wet.

Dubrovnik is a city of sunshine, beaches, and nearby islands (and medieval fantasy dramas). It is not a city made for rainy days. … That said, Chelsay and I weren’t going to waste the day indoors. See, we’ve faced a few obstacles in our travels. This wasn’t our first rodeo. Every time we’re faced with a challenge, we always find a way to “just make something happen”. When Mary’s Bridge was closed for repair at Neushwanstein, we turned it into a hero view for just Chelsay and I. When winds atop Gyckognfuw (sp?) Glacier nearly canceled our snowmobiling tour in Iceland, we found a way to get snowmobiling AND added ATVing to boot. As we walked the wet and quiet town under our umbrellas, we brainstormed how we’d conquer this obstacle.

Before visiting Dubrovnik, we knew we wanted to kayak around Lokrum Island, which is just off the city’s coast. From researching, I knew there was a cave accessible only by kayak. …I figured that if we could battle the rain for a 20 minute paddle, we’d be able to dry off and wait out the weather under the cave’s cover.

Chels and I were clearly the only ones with this idea because every kayak rental shop we tried was closed. We were actually walking back to the hotel to regroup when we caught a guy carrying a kayak rental sign. The conversation went like this: Us: “Can we rent a kayak?” Him: “What? Really?” Us: “Yeah, give us a kayak.” Him: “Okay…. wait, really?” Us (Daenerys looking for her dragons voice): “GIVE. US. A. KAYAK.” Him: “Woof, suit yourselves.” (Takes picture of the crazy Americans as they leave the wet shore in jackets, ponchos, and a dry bag)

It was a battle getting out to the island: not only was it raining, but a brutal wind was blowing directly into our faces. We were also the only people on the water, so everyone in the town was looking at the two idiots out there in ponchos.

The 20 minute journey took twice as long because of the wind, but we eventually made it to the dry cave oasis. Chelsay and I laid out our stupid ponchos and pulled out the picnic we’d packed (which amazingly stayed dry). We explored the impossibly clear waters, played music, and likely delusional from exhaustion, danced around the cave like the arm-waving kid in the Katy Perry SNL performance.

So that was one more example of how Chelsay and I “just make something happen”. With positivity and ambition, we’d turned what could’ve been a wasted day indoors into a dance party in an island cave we had all to ourselves.

We successfully arm-waved until the weather passed, and when the rain subsided, we returned back to Dubrovnik for our dinner time reward of wines, meats, cheeses, and Croatian specialty pancakes.

Later that night, we took the city’s cable car up a nearby mountain for a view of the coastline at sunset. After a hunt for the perfect panoramic view of both Dubrovnik’s Old Town and the sinking sun, Chelsay and I looked on in awe as the sky turned from blue to pink to purple to red.

We woke up early the next morning to walk the fortress city’s surrounding walls, home to many GoT filming spots. Although we were visiting during “shoulder season”, we knew a cruise ship was arriving that day, so we wanted to tour King’s Landing before the crowds arrived. Pacing the nearly empty walls, we visited Cersi’s Walk of Shame, the Blackwater Bay battleground, and the many sites of Vaerys and Tyrion’s scheming.

Just as the Lannisters would have seen Stannis’ ships arrive, we looked across the orange rooftops as cruise ships pulled into the King’s Landing harbor. The town bells rang to warn of the incoming attackers (aka tourists), so Chelsay and I fled the city walls for its more peaceful nearby beaches.

For the next few hours, Chelsay and I sprawled out and relaxed under the newly returned sun. Similar to our trip to Santorini, we enjoyed rosé and iced coffees while trying to reverse our many months of sun deprivation in London.

With rosé, iced coffees, and a sun burn all in hand, Chelsay and I had conquered King’s Landing. Now, we were ready to set sail for our next destination: the Dalmatian island of Korcula.

Korcula is a relatively large island (about 90 minutes to drive around) known for two things: first, it claims to be the birthplace of explorer Marco Polo, and second, its unique white wine, Grk. Are those really two things to be proud of? Like, any notable social, political, or military contributions in your looong history? Nope, just the wine and a bold claim about a famous person’s birthplace, huh? Well, I guess that’s part of Korcula’s charm. 

While researching on the ferry from Dubrovnik, Chelsay and I decided we’d tour the island’s vineyards and beaches by bike. We envisioned a Wedding Crashers-style bike ride: beach cruisers and that song playing (“In the summertime, when the weather is fine…”). We picked up rental bikes in town, but about 10 minutes later, we started a gradual ascent. …You look up and see where the road leads, and it’s not flattening out anytime soon. We may have expected Wedding Crashers, but we quickly learned this would be more like our windy kayaking.

As hard as it was to reach the top of these hills, we thoroughly enjoyed the relaxing descent into the island’s wine country. Cruising past shallow, teal blue coastline and under a backdrop of the surrounding mountains, Chelsay and I eventually found ourselves in the endless grapevine fields of Bire Winery.

We took a brief reprieve from the sun for a taste of the winery’s Grk, rosé, and red selection. A robust, earthy flavor made by the angle of the vineyard against the ocea—aaand I don’t know what I’m talking about. Chelsay is the sommelier between us, and she liked it enough to walk away with a bottle of rosé.

It was soon impossible to tell whether my skin was red from the sun or the wine. I was in the middle of telling the bartender how the Cubbies came back from 3-1 when Chelsay recommended I drink some water. I was soon hydrated enough to continue to bike tour, and we took the winery’s recommendation in heading to a quiet nearby beach. If the extra water at the winery hadn’t sobered me up, it took about one toe in the chilly Mediterranean to do the job.

After resting on the beach for a few hours, Chelsay and I felt refreshed enough to reconquer the hills on the way back to Korcula’s old town. Later, and in need of heavy carbs after our ride, we found some homemade pasta before touring the small village as the sun set.

That night, we took a late ferry to Split before making a THREE HOUR drive to Plitvice National Park. This midnight drive might seem aggressive, but I’ve written about this many times: Chelsay and I won’t settle for less than the perfect trip. We’re like the Underwoods on Election Day… They’re taking the Ohio by any means necessary, and we’re experiencing everything Croatia has to offer no matter what, including Plitvice.

Even after our 1:00 AM arrival, we woke up at 7:00 to make sure we’d see the park before dozens of tour buses and crowds arrived. You see, Plitvice is such a bizarre treat left by nature, and one must enjoy it in peace.

Plitvice sits a few hours inland from the Adriatic Sea and is surrounded by arid, rocky flatlands (think West Texas), yet this lush oasis hides 16 lakes interconnected by waterfalls. It doesn’t hide from Google though, so based on our image searches, Chelsay and I had high expectations.

It was even more breathtaking in person though. Just 20 steps into the park, we stumbled into a dramatic panoramic view.

The place felt like Jurassic Park, and the six mile hike to follow this initial view only furthered the feeling. Countless waterfalls cascaded down dramatic 300 foot walls. The edges of the lakes were so shallow that they took a teal hue, before descending into deeper blue depths. An abundance of fish and other sea life bustled in the impossibly clear waters (Chelsay called it an ecosystem in a water bottle). A network of plankways weaved in and out of the jungle of green canopies, connecting the 16 lakes. I’m not sure there is a way to quantify nature, but it’s safe to say Plitvice has a lot of it.

After kayaking in Dubrovnik, biking around Korcula, and now hiking through Plitvice, Chelsay and I were exhausted. We returned to Split that evening for one last meal at Bokeria (truffle pasta, lamb croquettes in melted cheese, and bombolini) and then quickly toured the city’s main attraction: Diocletian’s Palace. Like, really quickly: we were back in bed before the sun went down.

As exhausted as we were though, we knew it was the good kind of tired… like the feeling after exercising or after finishing a big project at work.

It’s the sign of a good trip. I’ve written about this before, but our biggest gauge for vacation success is whether it delivers something unique and fun every day. Iceland, Greece, Scotland, and Seville are the first to come to mind as examples of sustained excitement, though there have been many others too. After four days of cave dancing, coastal sunsets, beach lounging, vineyard bike rides, and Jurassic hikes, it’s safe to say Croatia delivered as well. Plus, now we can check King’s Landing off our list.