#this is a crop from my art for blood and blue diamonds :)
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he’s so pretty :’)
#Viktor#viktor arcane#arcane#arcane fanart#art#illustration#digital art#animation#fanart#artists on tumblr#clip studio paint#csp#when I initially drew the sketch I HOWLED#this is a crop from my art for blood and blue diamonds :)
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My Familiar’s Ghost part 81
Masterpost Masterpost 2
See the latest pages on Patreon!
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1. Wide shot, knees up, of vampire Guillermo and Nandor sitting on the couch in the library in front of the papered-over bay window. Nandor is wearing one of his usual outfits and Guillermo is wearing something new: a dark blue shirt with a pink floral pattern, a dark red sweater vest, brown cuords, and a string of pearls. Both are looking at the viewer and have clipboards in their hands, Guillermo's pen poised and ready on the paper and Nandor gesturing his in the air as he asks, 'So...what makes you the best candidate for our new familiar?'
2. Reverse shot of a single green armchair on a vague brown background. Sitting on it, legs crossed, is a southeast Asian woman in her 30s with shoulder length black hair and countless slash-like scars running up her arms, neck, and face. She is wearing a purple sweater with 3/4 sleeves, black leggings, and combat boots. She grimaces, looking upward, left arm waving vaguely as her right nervously fingers the arm of the chair, and says, 'Well, I survived three years with Gorgo the Murderer...'
3. Repeat, new candidate in the chair: a fat white man in his 30s with close cropped sandy blond hair and unsettling blue eyes, wearing a blue polo and brown chinos. His arms are covered in gorey tattoos depicting blood, buzzsaws, skulls, and fangs, plus one art nouveau portrait and black fang shapes above and below his mouth. He stares directly forward with a fixed grin, hands laced together over his chest, and declares, 'My former mistress always said I had a knack for dismemberment.'
4. Repeat, new candidate in the chair: a fat brown hispanic person in their 20s with hazel eyes, big glasses, and half bleach blonde half dark brown hair in a bowl cut. She is wearing a red flannel open over a TrueBlood tee shirt and jeans, nails painted teal, a silver hoop in each ear. They are leaning forward eagerly, fists clenched and eyes wide, babbling, 'You're the only familiar I've ever heard of who got turned! What's the turnaround for your familiars? Which one of you will turn me?!'
5. Repeat, new candidate in the chair: a small white woman in her 60s with gray-streaked auburn hair wearing a low-cut dark pink top tucked into a plaid knee-length skirt. Her long nails are painted a dark reddish brown to match her lipstick, and she also has on pantyhose and, inexplicably, a diamond ring on her left ring finger. She leans casually against the side of the chair, brown eyes roaming the ceiling, and announces, 'I've had so many masters by now... I'm really just looking for something more long-term...'
6a. Reverse shot back to Guillermo and Nandor on the couch. Nandor leans forward with a suggestive smirk, touching the butt of his pen coyly to his chin, and replies, 'That is good to hear... I trust your age will not prevent you from your duties?' Guillermo glares at him from the corner of his eye, grip shaking on his pen. 6b. Knees up in profile of Nandor and the milf candidate sitting across from each other, leaning forward with suggestive grins. One of her legs stretches forward to rub against his and she touches her chest demurely, replying, 'Honey, I can handle whatever you have for me-' Guillermo leans around Nandor to get between them and interrupts her, loudly shouting 'Next!!' 6c. Zoom in to shoulders up of Nandor, turned toward the viewer to curl his fingers in a wave as the milf leaves offscreen, muttering, 'Uh, well, thank you for your time.' Nandor glances over his shoulder with the smuggest of grins at Guillermo, who is absolutely seething behind him. Guillermo is surrounded by a ragged black aura, frowning as deeply as his boyish face allows, glowing orange eyes burning holes into the back of Nandor's head. /end ID
#wwdits#my familiars ghost#nandermo#mlm#vampire guillermo#guillermo de la cruz#nandor the relentless#what we do in the shadows#what we do in the shadows fx#my art#fanart#fan comic#image described
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Masked Futures
In June 2020, I hand-sewed a series of six facemasks as a textile art project concurrent with the Strange Horizons fund drive, themed around science fiction futures. My objective was to make functional garments: comfortable, breathable, protective to the extent two-layer cloth facemasks are protective, and sartorially appealing similar to the way an expensive suit, purse, shoe, or item of lingerie might give the wearer a sense of dignity without subsuming identity.
Part of my goal was to make masks seem decadent and sumptuous rather than imposed. Given that masks have historically been used to conceal or escape, it was necessary to invent a new visual language of masking, one which supports masks’ current role as a symbol of social cohesion and friendliness. I conceived all masks as unisex; the gender of the mask will be asserted (or not asserted) by the face underneath and above.
Mask 1: Dryad Pollinator Air Corps
Mask 1 echoes a 19th century waistcoat or dressing gown, including the suggestion of a military rank stripe and an illusory watch chain and fob. It alludes to H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine, and to the Neo-Victorians in Neal Stephenson’s The Diamond Age. Each of these works focuses partly on class disparities in access to social comfort and safety during a time of resource collapse.
The mask’s name offers a more fanciful interpretation, allowing the wearer to imagine life as a supernatural protector of nature—and as someone beset by not only viruses, but tree pollen and associated allergies, which might also be combatted with masks if in the near future, the pandemic has ended, but climate change continues.
Mask 2: Emergent Digital Cloud Behavior
Mask 2 fits in the category of “Blank Surface Futures”: the slick, ambiently-lit white and gray corridors of 2001: A Space Odyssey, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Alien, Apple computer commercials, and countless video games. These curved, corner-less, ribbed corridors suggest a post-body future, one in which we do not need chairs or paper or windows, and our non-fingers don’t leave smudgy prints on the screens.
I had the notion that the emergence of an Artificial Intelligence, or a Singularity event, would be akin to a wedding, confirmation, or baptism—hence veil-like white translucent ribbons. I kept the mask lightweight as a play on the word “cloud,” and embellished it with a silver diagram which could represent a star map, connecting nodes, or the rotating arms on a mechanized assembly line.
Note the cheeky pop of the same purple color used in the Strange Horizons logo. The future of the Internet wants to be us.
Mask 3: Ambassador to Griffons
Mask 3 follows a Mad Max or Tank Girl aesthetic, the idea of a post-urban frontier in which scavenged high-tech elements are mixed with primitive or natural materials, and the repurposed signifiers of different eras are mixed together. There are feathers, but they’re metal. There is shaggy fur next to tapestry next to chintz. Garnets could be decorative or could mean the wearer draws blood.
Depending on whether the wearer is more fantasy or science fiction oriented, the griffons of the title might be literal mythical beasts in whose court a human needs to appear sufficiently respectful of griffon appearance cues, or the griffons might be a powerful post-apocalyptic gang.
This mask also reflects my futurist speculation that a masked society will incorporate some of the iconographic shortcuts of Internet culture (another face-hider) and foreground personality shorthands like astrological signs, Harry Potter houses, and fursonas.
Mask 4: The Sacred Heart of Solarpunk
Solarpunk is my favorite possible future to write about (and in many ways the most difficult, since it is solutions-oriented instead of escapist). When I read Rob Cameron’s New Modality essay “Promised Land: Religious Ideology and Solarpunk Science Fiction”, I decided to take up its challenge and envision a Solarpunk religious vestment, drawing on my childhood in ethnically blended, religious communities in Texas.
I imagined that the wearer of this mask had made multiple international migrations through the Global South as crops failed, aquifers dried up, and desertification occurred, but had found continuity through religious practice— faith had been a source of resilience, but also a method of community organization. I used bright-colored textiles of several national origins, including Chinese silk and a piece of an Indian sari, to reflect this figure’s overlapping identities, a source of defiant pride and the preservation of a nation’s memory through its disaspora’s rituals.
More directly, I used the blue fabric associated with the head covering of the Virgin Mary, who is said to supernaturally manifest as an intercessor and guide, and an image of the Sacred Heart, a symbol of the love of God through Jesus, a figure of miraculous suffering—existing Catholic symbols.
To these, I added two invented religious symbols: a Triune Heart (three hearts in one), imagining a faith doctrine which called for world unity as a revelation of the Holy Trinity, and a ghostly white sunflower, the Sunflower Soul. The sunflower is a recurring symbol of hardiness in science fiction, from Enter the Spiderverse to American Astronaut to, in a way, Day of the Triffids, and beyond, and it made sense to me that this would be folded into religion in the same way as the holly and the ivy, or the rose e’er blooming.
Mask 5: Covid Vampire
Mask 5 is a nod to our many revenant futures, whether the early sci-fi of Frankenstein and Dracula (a book greatly inspired by then-emerging technologies like telegrams and blood transfusions), midcentury works like I Am Legend and Godzilla, or the more recent glut of werewolf books and zombie television (not to mention the deadly and alluring humanoid robots of Blade Runner and Westworld).
Given our long history of coping with the arousal of fear by interpreting it as desire, I thought “sexy Covid-19″ was inevitable. If we can make tuberculosis, skeletons, and nuclear disaster sexy, there’s no question we will make coronavirus sexy. A bloody throat. A trembling crystal sneeze. Not the real coronavirus, but a fantasy by which we can be temporarily subsumed in cathartic release.
As a tribute, I made this mask in the style of costumer, artist, and filmmaker Eiko Ishioka (Dracula, The Cell, The Fall).
Mask 6: Tentacle Rave
Mask 6 combines the long tradition of undersea SF (mermaids, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Startide Rising, SeaQuest DSV, The Abyss, Atlantis, parts of the Cthulu mythos) with the enthusiastically garish flamboyance of psychedelic New Age futurism (including the works of Aldous Huxley and Roger Zelazny). It’s the dawning of the age of Aquarius.
Flower children, disco fiends, ravers, the Esalen institute, and harajuku decora kids have sequentially suggested we could throw out “good taste” and have more fun being colorful, over-the-top, and sociable, and that this will be the basis for a new and more perfect social order. Perhaps we will decide life’s too short and we should enjoy what we can. Perhaps in our future we will ascend through our minds’ eyes into a higher level of consciousness and will have superpowers, and glowing sea creatures will live on our faces.
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WHAT ARE YOUR MUSES AESTHETICS?
REPOST! DON’T REBLOG. bold any that applies to your muse and italicize any that kind of applies to your muse. feel free to add to the list.
tagged by: stolen from my other blog.
tagging: @divistac @makoeycd @nibelheimraised @leslienkyle, whoever wants to?
COLOURS. red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey.forest green. apple red. violet. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. bubblegum pink. sky blue. pale jade.
ELEMENTS. fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops.
BODY. claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. neck. shoulders. legs. freckles. unseen bruises. canines. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. fingernails. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. athletic. hair. fur. sleek.
WEAPONS. scythe. fists. legs. sword. dagger. spear. lance. bow & arrow. hammer.shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. claws. teeth. stealth. strategy.
MATERIALS. gold. silver. copper. platinum. titanium. rose gold. diamonds. pearls.rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. ribbon.
NATURE. grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. sunflowers. tulips. lavender. petals. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. fungi. ocean. river. frozen lake. meadow. valley. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. snow. mist. pond.
ANIMALS. big cats. wolves. foxes. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs.bunnies. penguins. deer. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. monkeys.
FOODS/DRINKS. sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. vodka. beer. coffee. sake. tea. spices. herbs. apples. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. lollies. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. surf ‘n’ turf. burritos.pizza. ambrosia. eggs. milk.
HOBBIES. music. art. water colours. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. baking. sewing. training. dancing.acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. strings. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. flute. bells. exploring. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. sleeping. climbing. running. jogging. parkour.studying.
STYLE. lingerie. armour. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. ankle boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. beanie hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. mittens. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sun glasses. straw hat. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ribbons. hoodie. sweater. converses. tennis shoes. boxers. briefs. boxer briefs.shorts. cargo. cropped pants. crop top. cuffed pants.
MISC. balloons. bubbles. city scape. light. dark. candles. growth. decay. war.peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. journal. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family.friends. comrades. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs.kindness. love. hugs. kisses. spring. summer. autumn. winter. farmland. countryside. suburban. village.
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Chapter I
Prologue [ x ]
Ten Years Later
The sun was high in the sky, a horridly hot, blazing thing that made sweat gather upon his brow and drip down between his shoulder blades. But that didn’t matter; his skin wouldn’t blister, only tan. Before him stood a man twice his size with a sword that could cleave him in half, and a smile that promised blood. Turning the xiphos in his hands, he raised the blade before him. He licked his lips, tasting iron and salt, and grinned.
The man lunged, and the crowd around them cheered.
He ducked, turning, leg sliding out to catch the man by the ankles. A quick jerk sent him tumbling forward, and he turned, watching him fall. He wasted no time, lunging forward, the blade poised for the base of his neck, where the spine was weak. A yell surged free as he dove, knees hitting the other’s back, pinning him down, as he brought it down quickly-
“Do you yield?” He asked, panting, as the crowed fell silent. When he received no answer, he let the tip of the blade ghost along the back of his neck, beneath the shock of red hair.
“… I yield.” The man finally spoke into the dirt, pain lacing his words as the crowd roared to life.
A chant began, one of the title the boy had gained. “Songbird! Songbird! Songbird!” Over and over, and the boy let his head fall back, drinking it in. He let it go on for another minute before his lips opened, and he released a single, piercing battle cry that echoed around the small fighting pit, like an eagle crying out. The crowed seemed to grow louder with the sound.
“That’s enough, that’s enough! You’ve all work to be done, still!” A booming voice broke up the cheering, which quickly turned to lighthearted booing. The man on the ground groaned as he rolled over, staring up at the clear blue sky with obvious distaste. “Up, up, Durgin. Go clean that blood off of your face.”
“Mihai, you buzzkill,” Durgin grumbled as he pushed himself up, red hair falling into his face as he doubled over and groaned once more. “Matthias, next time, don’t go for my stomach. You know that’s my weakest point!” He complained, lip jutting out in a pout as he righted himself.
Matthias let out a laugh, shaking dark locks wet with sweat out of his face. “Then it wouldn’t be a fair fight, my friend!” He replied, gaze drifting towards the captain who approached with an amused grin. “Mihai, perfect timing. Care to spar?” A mischievous grin curled his lips as he slid the xiphos back into its sheath with a pleasant hiss.
“Afraid not, my friend,” Mihai replied, shaking his head. He’d recently gotten a haircut, Matthias noticed; the dirty blond strands that had been drifting to below his shoulders had been cut short, bangs falling upon his forehead despite the evidence of him styling them back, cut shorter on the sides. A common haircut among the warriors of Kashim. Still handsome, the cut did nothing to hide the high cheekbones or the vivid blue of his eyes. “I’m here on official business.”
“Official?” Matthias echoed, perplexed.
“Business?” Durgin added, sounding just as perplexed as Matthias.
Mihai nodded, holding out a rolled piece of parchment. “You’ve been summoned, Matthias. The Jor himself wishes to see you.”
The Jor, the reigning King of Kashim, was a man of fierce reputation. Florin the Fearful was what the people of Kashim called him due to his strategic movements during the War of the Songbirds. He had been known to cut down his enemies with little more than a glance and was a terror to face. Matthias would know.
After all, Florin had been the one to abduct him from his home in Cruimore ten years ago.
“Right…” Matthias drawled, taking the parchment and opening it with little grace, tearing the wax seal. The summons was true, it seemed. The message gave little away to what, exactly, this summons was to be. That annoyed him, but there was nothing the captive prince could do. Slowly folding the message up before holding it aloft in his hand, he made sure that Mihai and Durgin could both witness his next minor act of rebellion. Blue flames erupted from his palm, causing the parchment to turn to ash in a matter of seconds.
Mihai let out a soft chuckle beneath his breath. “You truly do have a death wish, don’t you?” Matthias only gave a wink in response. Clearing his throat, Mihai straightened his shoulders and jerked his chin. “Move it, I’m missing dinner with Emrie for this.”
“How is she, anyway?” Matthias asked as he grabbed his shirt, tugging the ivory piece of cloth over tanned, dirt streaked shoulders. “I heard that the pregnancy was taking a toll on her.”
“It is,” Mihai affirmed, lips set in a grim line. “She wakes with sickness each morning, and she complains of small contractions. She is nearing the end, at least.”
Matthias hummed, gaze sweeping the training courtyard as they slowly made their way through it. So many men and women, each with their own story. Some more similar to his own than he’d like to admit. “Will the Jor allow healers to tend to her when the time comes?” He asked casually, hands slipping into the pockets of his muddied trousers.
Mihai’s lack of a verbal answer let him know that it had already been discussed- and denied.
The walk to the throne room was quiet; Mihai had told him all those years ago, when they had just been boys, that the walls had ears and eyes. The only safe place to ever speak of anything of importance was outside of the city- a luxury two boys from separate kingdoms, both stolen from their homes, did not have. Instead, they created a way to speak without words- hand signals, each one meaning a word. They perfected it during their studies, making sure to keep it out of sight of the Master of Words.
No one knew, and that was exactly how they liked it.
The halls were long and pristine, onyx stone carved and polished to a gleaming, smooth perfection. The first time he’d seen the palace, he thought it had been carved from the night itself. The entire exterior was a deep, endless black, with golden trimming and ivory marble columns. The interior gleamed, the onyx intertwined with gold flecks and splashes of rich, deep sapphire, like the cosmos themselves had been pulled from the sky and spread across. Even the floors were a rich black tone.
But the true masterpiece was the throne room.
The doors were huge, carved from ivory and inlaid with gold. Beyond that sat the throne room, a space easily the size of the amphitheater in the Lower Districts. The ceiling stretched high above in a dome, with a great chandelier of sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds dripping down. The steps leading up to the throne were gilded gold, polished daily. The floor was black marble, and the walls were ivory marble. The throne was a giant, terrifying thing, easily spanning the height of two grown men, and came up to a deadly thin point. Carved from onyx, it held the faces of the Five Gods- the Father, the Mother, the Sinner, the Healer, and Maiden Death at the very top, directly over the Jor’s head.
The Jor was a terrifying sight, too. Pale hair that swept long and flowed free, reaching the small of his back, frame a face that seemed to be carved from marble. A strong jawline that held a deep scar on the right side, high cheekbones, an elegant nose and brow, and eyes the color of a stormy sky. He was a tall man, breaching six feet easily, and a mountain of pure muscle beneath armor of bone and black. He bore no crown, for why would a man that was known far and wide require such a thing?
Matthias lowered himself to a knee and bowed his head low, though his gaze strayed from the Jor to the pair that stood either side him. A smile curled his lips at the sight. To the Jor’s right stood his trusted Spymaster, a woman with hair cropped short and skin that rivaled the onyx of the walls. Her eyes were a vivid sky blue with a starburst of brown in her left, and her lips were always painted a shade that rivaled fresh blood. She wore no jewelry aside from a single ring on her left thumb, a simple silver thing. Her clothing was perfect, as always, a rich maroon gown that rose high upon her neck and fell in layers to the floor. Her name was Zoya Kathiu, from the kingdom of Kaalee Ret to the Southeast of Teoterra. She was a terror in and of herself; a master of poisons and the art of the blade, she could take down an entire kingdom with little trouble.
To the left stood Luca, the Jor’s son. He took after his mother in temperament and moral, but his father in his looks. Long hair the color of starlight fell to his waist in an intricate braid that was tossed carelessly over one shoulder. His eyes were a light blue that turned stormy when he was angry, and his lips were a rosy pink. His skin was a shade darker than his father’s, holding a healthy glow to it due to being outside with the soldiers. He wore armor of silver and bone, standing tall and proud. His belt held the broadsword, Sineater, a weapon forged of blood and bone and tears- or so they say. He was a year older than Matthias himself, the oldest of Florin’s three children, and the most mischievous.
“Rise.” Florin spoke, deep voice echoing within the room dramatically. Matthias managed to keep his snort in as he and Mihai rose to their feet in near unison, both standing at parade rest. Florin studied them for a long moment, disgust evident as his gaze swept over Matthias. ‘Good’, he thought to himself, ‘let him be disgusted.’ “There’s whispers of an uprising within the border towns. Have you heard of this act of defiance?” The question startled the prince, and he found himself staring at the Jor in confusion for a solid minute before finding his voice. Did he suspect that Matthias was part of this uprising- or the sole cause?
“I’m afraid I haven’t heard anything of this uprising, your highness.” He answered carefully, brows furrowing as the Jor rose from his throne, onyx and bone armor shining in the sunlight that filtered through the stained glass on the peak of the ceiling, directly over the throne. “I assume you’ve summoned myself and Mihai for a reason pertaining to these… Whispers?” Temper, temper; he could feel Mihai tensing up beside him. But Matthias wasn’t worried- no, the Jor saw him as a weapon, and wouldn’t dare harm a finely crafted tool that could turn a battle to their favor far too easily.
Florin hummed, hands loose at his sides, as he slowly made his way down the ten steps that created the dais upon which his throne sat. High enough to be above all the court, but not too high to become and easy, open target. “I do,” he agreed, thin lips curling into a cruel little smile. “I wish for you to take,” he paused, a finger pressing to his lips. Matthias reigned in the urge to curl his lip at the sight of the black, pointed nail which resided on that finger. “I wish for you to take ten of your best men, along with Mihai here, and squash any signs of rebellion that you find.”
Squash, as in kill. Mihai grimaced, but nodded. “Of course, your highness. Is there anything else you would require of us?” He asked, head tilting to the side, feigning innocence and loyalty. Matthias had to cover the chuckle that rose with a cough.
“That will be all. Dismissed,” with that, the man turned on his heel and retreated- not to his throne, but past it, to the dark doorway that lead to his own personal chambers beyond, and Gods know what else. Matthias couldn’t remember what horrors lay beyond, only the ever-consuming darkness. It still made his skin crawl regardless. Dropping down in a low bow at the waist, the pair held their position until Florin was out of eyesight, and then a moment longer before raising.
Luca had climbed down the stairs, while Zoya had simply vanished into thin air. Mihai turned, slowly, looking for the Spymaster as if she could be hidden within the shadows. Then again, she just might. The thought made Matthias suddenly question every single thing he’d ever done when he thought he was alone.
“He’ll want you to take off first light,” the petit prince spoke, voice softer, more melodic compared to his terror of a father. He took after his late mother in so many ways, Matthias noted with a tinge of melancholy. “You’ll need to prepare for the journey tonight. Your horses should be being tended to currently…” Trailing off, Luca fidgeted with his sleeves, an old habit he’d had since he was but a boy, apparently. Mihai had pointed it out.
“What aren’t you telling us?” Mihai pressed, watching as the prince shifted, armor clinking. Armor that had been styled after his fathers, silver and black and just as horrid. Matthias crossed his arms over his chest and waited, watching as Luca looked around the room before stepping even closer- close enough that, if he wanted, he could reach up and tuck some of that long, white blond hair behind a delicate ear.
Luca worried his lip before meeting Mihai’s stare. “Father intends to use this as a show of force- not just for here, but against the other nations. Against Cruimore.”
The sound of his home country made Matthias pause, brows furrowing. Against his home? Why? Sapphire hues studied Luca carefully, reading his every movement, looking for the telltale show of lying- but he found nothing. A cold chill crept along his skin as he let the words sink in. “Why against Cruimore?”
“Because your sister has ascended to the throne.”
“My sister?” Matthias echoed, disbelief painting his tone. “How? Father was on the throne, not Thea. Thea wouldn’t take the throne unless…” Unless something had happened to his father. Unless something had caused him to abdicate the throne. Unless something had…
He didn’t realize he was running until he burst through the throne room doors and was halfway down the hallway when Mihai managed to catch up- but didn’t stop him. He ran beside him, a hand on the pommel of his blade. Their footsteps echoed like war drums, a staccato against the silence of the palace. No servants were in their paths, no noblemen or women, no courtesans. Empty. They turned, racing down the stairs, taking them three at a time, towards the courtyard.
He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t, could he? He wasn’t. There was no way- they would have sent word, right? Why wouldn’t they have sent word?
‘They think you dead, little prince.’ A viscous voice hissed at him from within his mind. No. They couldn’t. He was alive! He was here, breathing, alive!
They swept across the courtyard, barely slowing to leave the gates, before Matthias turned and slowed his steps, speed walking through the crowds of the Upper Market. “Kaith will know.” He hissed, hand curling into a fist before uncurling and curling once more. He could feel his nails bite into his skin, the sting a reminder that he was alive. Mihai didn’t answer, instead using his bulk to slide in front of him and clear a path. For that, he was grateful. Broad shouldered and taller, with a severe jawline and a dangerous glint in his eyes, Mihai made for a terrifying sight that made crowds part like waves around a rock.
The Upper Market was always busy, especially on sunny, warm days. Shopfronts were lined with the finest of dresses, made from silk or velveteen with lace appliques. Others held pastries and decorative cakes, the smell of sweets wafting into the street, covering the smell of sea with their sugar. The cobblestone was clean, no cracks, nothing that could cause you to stub your toe or trip when drunk. Speaking of, there were no taverns, not up here. No, those were below.
The Low District was their destination. Or, more accurately, the Barnacle, a port-side tavern that was popular with sailors and held the most information. Where Kaith resided. It was obvious when one passed from the Upper to the Low; the cobblestone gave way to dirt roads, the shops were no longer white and pristine, and the smell of sea salt crept into every pore and crevice, sinking into your clothes, your skin, your hair. The shops and houses here took the brunt of the sea’s wrath, the high waves and torrential downpours. Their walls weren’t of the pretty wood and stone, but of brick and rock, made to weather the sea.
Matthias began to jog, speed slowly picking up as he picked his way down the empty alleyways, startling fat rats and skinny cats. He didn’t care; he could hear the roar of the sea, the laughter of drunk men, the calls of women to lure men into their brothels and enjoy themselves. None of that mattered.
Not when Kaith slipped out of the shadows directly into their path, causing both Matthias and Mihai to nearly slip in the mud. Kaith stood still, dressed head to toe in black, their dark hair tied back in a loose braid. “You’re in a rush,” they noted, brow raising as they studied them.
“I need to know.” Matthias panted out, hands on his knees.
“Know… What?” Kaith pressed, words no more than a whisper.
“I don’t have time for games, Kaith!” He exclaimed, straightening up and leaning close. “I need to know what you know about Vatis.” Kaith’s dark eyes gave nothing away; endless pools of obsidian that could swallow a man whole and make him beg for mercy. He didn’t look away. “What happened to my father.”
Kaith didn’t answer, not right away. Instead, they looked around, gaze sweeping for peeping eyes and listening ears. The Shadow of Istis, that’s what they were called. And the Shadow could see things in the Shadows that others could not. “Come,” they spoke finally, turning on their heel to make their way towards the docks. “Malekai will tell you.”
Malekai, their… Boss? Keeper? Lover? Matthias wasn’t sure what the relationship was between the Shadow and the Pirate. But if Malekai had information, then he would gladly go to the ship. Even if it meant forfeiting secrets he was not fond of giving. That’s what Malekai and Kaith traded in; secrets.
Everyone in Istis had a closet full of skeletons, and a chest full of secrets.
“Lead the way,” Mihai spoke for Matthias. Kaith nodded and turned, braid swinging with the movement. For as long as Matthias had known Kaith, he had never figured them out. They were masculine, but feminine. Strong angles and soft curves. Long hair and longer knives. Their clothing gave nothing away- he would know, he’d stared. And stared. And could never see beyond the baggy pants and loose tops covered with a heavy leather jacket. Within those layers were weapons of all kinds hidden: stilettoes, daggers, switchblades, Rettan smoke bombs, Eastern Isles poisons. Dangerous, in so many ways.
The port was busy, sailors calling here and there, merchants making last ditch efforts for sales, wives kissing their husband’s goodbye and husbands waving their wives off, gone to sea for another few months. And at the very end, flanked by two of Florin’s Royal Navy ships, sat the Crimson Grace.
It was quite a sight, something that could take anyone’s breath away. Its black sails were furled, hiding the crimson bird that decorated them, anchors dropped, but despite that, it was still marvelous. The entire ship was doused in a color far too close to fresh blood, with black and gold trim work. The figurehead was of a woman, her arms outstretched towards the horizon, her hair a deep ebony and skin a vivid gold. Her dress was crimson, just as the rest of the ship.
Kaith wasted no time in leading them on board, not needing an introduction. The crew knew them well, stepping aside for the Shadow and their companions. They opened the door to the Captain’s Quarters after knocking once, sliding in and gesturing. Inside lay all sorts of treasures; a large map of the seas upon one wall, a mahogany desk with golden trinkets and another map and ships and other strange wooden figures stationed atop.
And leaning against that desk was the captain himself, Malekai the Malicious.
When Matthias first met him, he wasn’t sure what to expect. Some old, weathered sailor with scars and missing teeth and maybe a missing limb or two. Instead, he was met with a handsome, young face that vaguely reminded him of a wolf, or perhaps a fox. Golden blond hair that fell to his shoulders in gentle waves, mischievous blue eyes, and a kind smile. Nothing compared to what he had been expecting.
That had been four years ago.
Malekai hadn’t changed much in that time; he still fancied extravagant suits tailored to his figure and pure red wine and remained as mischievous as ever. Except for now- now, that mischief lacked from his gaze, the corners of his lips were turned down in a deep frown, and he wore a loose, white shirt that was unbuttoned clear to his sternum and high waisted, black leather trousers. The shirt revealed a tattoo of a sun over his heart.
“Malekai.” Mihai greeted, and a beat later, Matthias spoke up.
“What do you know?”
Malekai eased himself from the desk and gestured to the two chairs that were situated before it. “Sit.” It wasn’t a suggestion. Slowly, the pair lowered themselves into the plush seats, sinking down. “There’s really no easy way for me to say this…” He began, hands gripping the edge of the desk. Matthias noted how his knuckles whitened, how his jaw clenched. He leaned forward in his seat, gaze locked on the pirate.
“Tell. Me.” He managed to grind out, heart hammering in his chest, blood pounding in his ears.
Malekai sighed, slowly crouching down before Matthias. “There have been whispers on the winds and lips of traveling merchants from the North. Whispers that… There has been a change.”
“A change.”
Nodding, the pirate studied his hands, the scars that crossed his knuckles. “There is no easy way to say this,” he repeated, looking up from his hands to the captive prince before him, “your father was killed in an attempt to overthrow the royal family. Your older sister has taken the throne and crown, and has been declared Queen of Cruimore, with your mother as the Queen Regent.”
A moment passed where it felt as if the world dropped out from beneath Matthias, as if the ocean had suddenly swelled up and crashed over him, leaving him to float with no sign of surfacing. “What?”
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tagged by: stole it from my old blog tagging: @therisingtempest , @thereforall ,@goddamnitconnor , @herroyalmajesticness,@wholehcartedly , @iimplexus Connor or Chie or Donnie ,@stemsurvivor , @justplainalice, @reedtm , @maljefe , @atlaslain ,@devilglow , @thinkscalm , @manyxheavysouls honestly anyone who hasn’t done this one yet and wants to.
REPOST ; DON’T REBLOG.
BOLD any which apply to your muse !
Feel free to add to the list !
❖ WHAT ARE YOUR MUSE’S AESTHETICS?
[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple-red. violet. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. bubblegum pink. sky blue. pale jade.
[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops.
[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. neck.shoulders.legs. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns.fingernails. spikes.feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. athletic. hair. fur.
[ WEAPONS ] fists. legs. sword. dagger. spear. bow & arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. claws. teeth. stealth. strategy.
[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. copper. platinum. titanium. rose gold. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton.charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. ribbon.
[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. sunflowers. tulips. lavender. petals.seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. fungi. ocean. river. frozen lake.meadow.valley. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach.waves. space. clouds. mountains. snow. mist. pond.
[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. foxes. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles.ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. penguins. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. frogs.
[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. vodka. beer. coffee. sake. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry.strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. ambrosia. eggs. milk. poultry.
[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. baking. sewing. training. dancing.acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. war tactics. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. drums. piano. strings. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. flute. bells.exploring. playing cards. poker chips.chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating.sleeping. climbing. running. jogging. parkour. studying.
[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. dress shirt. boots. ankle boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. beanie hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets.doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. fishnet. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. mittens. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sun glasses. straw hat. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ribbons. sweater. converses. tennis shoes. boxers. briefs. boxer briefs. shorts. cargo. cropped pants. crop top. cuffed pants.
[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. growth. decay. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. journal. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. clan. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs.kindness. love. hugs. kisses. spring. summer. autumn. winter. farmland. countryside. suburban. village.
#🌻 Headcanons;; ❛ Here’s the rap sheet. Well the rap sheet for a few of ‘me’. ❜#catch me if queue can
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WHAT ARE YOUR MUSE’S AESTHETICS ?
repost , don’t reblog.
colors.
red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey.lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple-red.violet. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. bubblegum pink. sky blue. pale jade.
elements.
fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost.lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops.
body.
claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. neck. shoulders. legs. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. fingernails. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. athletic. hair. fur.
weapons.
fists. legs. sword. dagger. spear. bow &. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. claws. teeth. stealth. strategy.
materials.
gold. silver. copper. platinum. titanium. rose gold. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. ribbon.
nature.
grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. sunflowers. tulips. lavender. petals. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. fungi. ocean. river. frozen lake. meadow. valley. forest. desert.tundra. savanna. rain forest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. snow. mist. pond.
animals.
lions. wolves. foxes. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. penguins. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. frogs.
food / drinks.
sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. vodka. beer. coffee. sake. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. ambrosia. eggs. milk. poultry.
hobbies.
music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. baking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. war tactics. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. drums. piano. strings. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. flute. bells. exploring. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. sleeping. climbing. running. jogging. parkour. studying.
style.
lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. dress shirt. boots. ankle boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. beanie hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. fishnet. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. mittens. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sun glasses. straw hat. visor. eye contacts. makeup.ribbons. sweater. converses. tennis shoes. boxers. briefs. boxer briefs. shorts. cargo. cropped pants. crop top. cuffed pants.
misc.
balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. growth. decay. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. journal. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. clan. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. kisses. spring. summer. autumn. winter. farmland. countryside. suburban. village.
tagged by. stolen from my dash tagging. whoever!
#★ ι'd ѕнooт тнe ѕυɴѕнιɴe ιɴтo мy veιɴѕ. ❞ headcanon.#★ мy мιɴd ιѕ α ѕαғe && ιғ ι ĸeep ιт ιɴ we αll ɢeт rιcн. ❞ about.#✦ ᴡᴀs ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀ ᴡᴀʀʀɪᴏʀ ᴏғ ᴊᴜsᴛɪᴄᴇ. ❞ ozma.#did it for ozma#it was really hard-
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Overgrown Ruins - Sun-Kissed Ruins
I have an outline for a novel I want to write just to say I did ;;
The setting was hard for me to grasp but @lonelytofu made a really good Inktober prompt list that also works amazingly to help thing about worldbuilding!! I gotta play catch up but hopefully, it’s gonna get me going!
Also, this is gonna be my first time doing a first-person like journal in 5 years. I’m trying to get world building and fleshing out side-characters all in one go :q
Summary: An ancient evil has returned to the land of the living, and is completely lost. One of its minions goes to biggest city to help find someone to help rebuild, and help put a map together of a world they had left to grow.
Second part here: LINK
Index here: LINK
I didn’t expect to get a bite on the first day. We didn’t even have any land tilled yet; it just made sense to at least get our presence out there just in case anyone who knew crops hit desperate times.
“You have nothing ready, you’re located in a place I could get my head chopped off for wandering into by accident, and your only form of shelter are ruined buildings.” The first and only candidate stared at me, staying in the shade of the alley while the rest of the townfolk bumped my shoulders in the crowded street.
It felt like if I stepped into the dark, I was going get mugged and no one would care.
Ah the times, they be changing.
“Well, alright,” He shrugged, whistling two sharp notes over his shoulder. “We’re going.”
“Really?” I tried not to gape. “This is great! When can I expect you to be ready?”
“Now.”
Further down the dark alley, small figures crawled out from behind the discarded wooden crates and from under ragged tarps.
“Now as in—“I staggered back at the gaggle of children lining up behind the man who, looking a bit closer at him, was just an exhausted looking teenager. “Alright, we’re going right now! Uhhhh, do you need time to pack your things?”
“Stop stalling.” He shoved me aside, and his little ducklings trampled over my shoes. They were headed right for the exit, none of them looking back.
That was Avent, who took the job immediately without asking my name.
It’s Sorchrys by the way, and this will be my…tourism journal? Travel guide? I meant for this to be notes for Avent to familiarize with his new surroundings but I realized that after being asleep for so long, I was a stranger in own home.
So, Chrys of tomorrow, I hope that you’re still as unprepared as you were when you met Avy. That queasy feeling is just excitement for a new tomorrow.
Sun-Kissed Ruins
That’s a far cry from “The Mouth of Hell” isn’t it?
“I didn’t expect this place to be so green.” Avy murmured to himself, stepping closer to the green basin.
It was a deep crater left by a meteor that had struck the land millions of years ago. You can’t blame a rock for unleashing the greatest evil on the land, giving it a home that was hard to invade and worse for invaders when they succeeded.
The crater itself was huge. Neither Avent or I could see the other side. Before I fell asleep, Avent wouldn’t have been able to stand here.
“There are stories about the ruins. That they used to stand on bloody flesh instead of land.” Avy peered over the edge, down the grassy slope to the lake below.
“It was called the Mouth for a reason. That being said, mouths shouldn’t have eyes or smaller mouths inside,” I checked for the children following behind. “Watch your step, it looks grassy but it’s like walking on a cheese grater! There might be some teeth left over.”
Some of the children were barely taller than my knees though they could beat many of the clean faced soldiers patrolling their city in grit and edge. Dressed in patched up work clothes, they gathered around the hidden potholes instead of frolicking in the fields.
Methodically, they dug around and took shiny pebbles, bits of metal, and stray teeth, stowing them away into their pockets to sell later.
“When the first calamity was sealed away, the flesh died,” I continued, careful to slide down the slope to where the remains of the bridge to the fortress had fallen. “Must have smelled awful back then. But that’s the way death is. Starts out horrible, sad, and ugly, until nature turns it into art.”
The Sun-Kissed Ruins were a testament to that. Made of the huge crashed meteor, the fortress had been a collection of huge spires surrounding the great hall that held the entrance leading into the “throat” of the crater. That was where the palace rested and where it still did.
Except, the eyes and pulsating flesh were gone, long eaten by ivy and moss. They in turn were eaten by trees weaving their roots into the stone, the grassy fields that grew on top of the slanted roofs, and the flowers that sprouted where eyes used to see.
Where the greenery couldn’t reach, the rain did. The crater acted like a pool, gathering the rain at the bottom until it submerged half of the fortress.
Mirroring my movements, Avy picked up the smallest child and carried them down on his back. The bigger kids did the same and my face heated up.
I just went down without asking if they needed help. Ugh, that was rude and I was too embarrassed to ask if they needed my help.
Not that they seemed to need it. Many of them reached the water’s edge before I did.
“It’s getting late so we’ll go see the fields tomorrow morning,” I skidded to a stop at the pebbly beach, avoiding the shade. Spring was giving way to summer, great for me but not so comfortable for warm-blooded children who hadn’t had a sip the entire journey.
“Though, it’s not too late for a swim.” I offered, watching the children gather near the clear water. Little fish darted away from the edge, ducking under the lilypads floating nearby.
Avy narrowed his eyes at me, sweat beading under his soft seafoam green bangs; a pretty colour I’ve never seen on a human before. In fact, all of the children had varying shades of blue for hair. Not a single blond or brunet was among them.
“How do we know there isn’t anything in the water?” He asked.
I frowned, and furrowed my brow, looking as far down under the water as I could. Failing to see farther than eight floors, I snapped my fingers and sparks flew from my nails. A soft blue light created a film between the circle formed by my thumb and pointer finger. Peering through, I saw a faint red glow.
“Don’t dive.” I said, putting an angry twitch on the corner of Avy’s eye.
He didn’t have time to push me into the water. A dark shadow approaching the shore made one of the kids gasp. Hearing them, the shape sped to the algae-eaten slope.
Bursting from the water was a monster of man, three times my size and Avy’s combined.
It must have been hot for poor Rodain. His long hair and beard were in messy braids, unshorn in the summer heat because Celestra had forbidden him from giving himself an ugly haircut. Evidently, she wasn’t back from her jaunt to the city’s market yet.
Thank the Lord he had kept his pants on.
“Don’t mind him, he’s just curious,” I told Avy when he started reaching for a shank he probably had in one of his patched pockets. “He just hasn’t seen a child. Ever.”
Rodain was waist deep in a spot where the water would be well over any of the kids’ heads. They weren’t scared of him yet; still awestruck by how a person could be thicker than a tree.
Tentatively, he waved his arm, making a small splash at one of the younger children. The water slapped the kids’ knees, wetting their shorts. The cool water made them giggle and they splashed back, giving the giant a good laugh. It was a good sound; easy-going and safe but deep like rumbling earth, reassuring in a way that maybe fathers would be?
I don’t know but the children took to it. By the bunch, they waded into the water and began splashing around like real as Avy clasped his hands in front of himself, all awkward-like.
Overhead, the Master flew by, blocking out the sun for a few seconds like a cloud would.
“I need to step inside for a minute, the…boss might need a towel,” I excused myself and Avy wasn’t happy about letting me out of his sight but he wasn’t going to leave the kids alone with Rodain. I left when the giant had fallen flat into the water to toss up a wave that knocked Avy into the fray.
Still hearing their laughter on my way up the crumbled bridge, I climbed the makeshift rope ladder we had to toss down from the roof. It was actually a shorter trip than when the bridge had been fully functional, dramatic architecture and all that.
In its heyday, the grand hall alone was the size of a King’s castle, leading to the doors behind the throne that would lead down to the real palace.
If anyone asks, I think it’s prettier now. Most of the roof was gone, and the swaying branches of a willow, tickled by sunlight was a cheerier sight than dangling trophies dripping on to the cold stone.
Under the evening’s pink and purple clouds, on an ancient throne, slept my Master. From the day the sun first drew breath, to the night when the stars would come back, he would—should sit proudly on the bed of thorns that was this thriving land.
He didn’t look so big, wrapped in a cape that knight had wrapped around him when she carried him out of his burning prison.
Hearing my shoe scrape on a patch of untouched stone, his top most red eyes opened and his nose twitched. The cape slipped to his shoulders and the rest of his eyes opened.
“Chrys.” He languidly motioned me to come to his side.
The war was over now; had been over long enough for the willow in the middle of the hall to grow over a thousand rings. I didn’t bow my head or knees, and words flowed as easily as the sun did over his diamond scales, disappearing into a human guise.
“We have some workers willing to live and cut into the land,” I said, approaching the great beast. “They’re so young, they don’t know about a night with stars or moons.”
“I should think so,” He rolled four of his eyes, running his hand through his short white hair. “No one remembers my name, let alone my might,” He pouted, not snarled. I had always thought that if he was mortal, he’d still be larger than life. It didn’t strike me that he had only recently grown out of adolescence. “Lucky them, I’ve decided to grant their kind a boon for a single sharp mind. Perhaps the others will prove surprising as that knight.”
So that was the reason of the day. Wonder what it’s going to be tomorrow.
“Do you want to know something interesting?” I asked.
Though he pretended to be uninterested, his long white tail hadn’t disappeared yet. It eagerly slapped the floor.
“Do you know why they call this place the Sun-Kissed Ruins?”
“The sun rises here,” He twisted his lips, disappointed. “Is that it?”
“Look up.”
He stared at the darkening sky, chasing the last of the sun behind the fortress.
“Wh-What?” Sitting fully to attention, my Master (or Lord? My boss? Boss! I like that), gaped at the alien sky. “Why is it doing that?”
Not a single one of us had noticed that the sun was rising and setting on the same horizon. To be fair, we were preoccupied but it was a glaring mystery.
“Avy looked at me like I was crazy when I asked about that,” I told him, a bit impatient to find out why myself. “And he said ‘you leave the same way you come into a room don’t you?’”
“That’s…that’s not wrong.” My boss admitted, tail still slapping the floor.
Nothing wrong, though definitely something to look into.
“One step at a time. Till then,” I watched the sky with him. “The sun hasn’t stopped being pretty.”
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Tagged by: No one, stole from my other blogs ;;__;; tagging: @coalescence-unleashed @id76 @dispensedjustice && anyone who wishes to do this! <3
REPOST ; DON’T REBLOG.
BOLD any which apply to your muse ! Feel free to add to the list !
❖ WHAT ARE YOUR MUSE’S AESTHETICS?
[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal.silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple-red. violet. navy blue. crimson. cream.mint green. bubblegum pink. sky blue. pale jade. midnight blue [ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat.cold.steam. frost. lightning.sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight.sunrise. sunset.dewdrops.
[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. neck. shoulders. legs. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. fingernails. spikes.feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. underweight.short. tall.normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. athletic. hair. fur.
[ WEAPONS ] fists. legs. sword. dagger. spear. bow & arrow. crossbow. hammer.shield.poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces.staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. claws. teeth. stealth. strategy. instinct. intuition. [ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. copper. platinum. titanium. rose gold. diamonds. pearls.rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper.wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet.denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick.marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash.shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. ribbon. [ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. sunflowers. tulips. lavender. petals. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. fungi. ocean. river. frozen lake. meadow. valley.forest.desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves.space. clouds. mountains. snow. mist. pond. [ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. foxes. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders.birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. penguins. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. frogs. vultures. rats. [ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. vodka. beer. coffee. sake.tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon.vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies.desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel.berries. nuts.cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza.ambrosia. eggs. milk. poultry. tacos. [ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting.sketching.fighting. writing. composing. cooking. baking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. war tactics. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books.magazines. cds. records.vinyls. cassettes. piano. strings. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. flute. bells. exploring. playing cards. poker chips.chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. sleeping. climbing. running. jogging. parkour. studying.investigating. blade sharpening. being alone. meditating. knife-throwing. visiting graveyards. [ STYLE ] armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. dress shirt. boots. ankle boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans.skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. beanie hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade.cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget.bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. mittens. cowls.braces.watches. glasses. sun glasses. straw hat. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ribbons. sweater.converses. tennis shoes. boxers. briefs. boxer briefs. shorts. cargo. cropped pants. crop top. cuffed pants. [ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. growth. decay. war. peace.money. power.percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. journal. fairy lights.madness.sanity. sadness. happiness.optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. clan. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs.kindness. love. hugs. kisses. spring. summer. autumn. winter. farmland. countryside. suburban. village. slums. gutter.
#'' ♡ 。 : // Her heart is full of g o l d || {musings}#'' 🌍 。 : // And now that you don't have to be perfect you can be good || {headcanon}
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Swim Into The Sound’s 2017 Un-Awards
Welcome to Swim Into The Sound’s first annual Un-Awards! In this direct (and more negative) companion piece to our Diamond Platters, we take a moment to reflect on some of the worst moments in music over the past year. From bad lyrics to tasteless cover art, this is a quick-hit version of the lowest points that 2017 had to offer.
In a year where we keep thinking “well, at least things can’t get any worse” 2017 always managed to surprise us. From politics and celebrities all the way down to movies and music, this was a year of general-purpose deplorable behavior and reprehensible choices. While there were plenty of good moments over the past 365 days, you will find that none of that light reaches these depths. This post is a place of darkness, a hell devoted solely to the most soul-crushing and life-questioning music of the year.
I’d also like to throw out a disclaimer that I don’t particularly like being pessimistic, especially when it comes to art that people have (presumably) worked hard on. Aside from that, negativity stands in direct opposition to the ideals that this website was founded on in the first place. What I’ve found is that it’s hard to talk about the good without also thinking of the bad, especially for a year like 2017. As I mentioned before, the previous post is the exact inverse of this one, and the next article going up will cover our favorite albums of the year, so if you are searching for affirmation, this is not the place to find it. Just think of this as the lone negative meat in a positivity sandwich.
Truth be told, aside from a few visibly-frothy entries, most of these awards are positive spins on negative experiences: moments that surprised me, music I’m embarrassed to enjoy, or weird synchronicities that I noticed throughout the year. I could have gone out of my way to shit on Katy Perry, The Chainsmokers, Imagine Dragons, or any number of middling radio-ready albums that were released this year, but at a certain point that all just feels redundant and hack. I prefer to be original in my distaste. So without any further adieu, I’m proud to present Swim Into The Sound’s list of the most spine-chillingly-regrettable music of 2017.
Biggest Disappointment
Winner: Queens of the Stone Age - Villains
Being a fan is a mixed blessing. The upside is that you get to enjoy the rollercoaster of hype that is an album rollout and you get the sweet experience of listening to a highly-anticipated album for the first time when it releases. On the flip side, that fandom can easily backfire if your expectations have been built up too high. While I love Queens of the Stone Age, in 2017 I fear that I may be outgrowing them. The group’s 2004 release Songs for the Deaf is literally my favorite album of all time, and there’s no higher praise than that. Each record since then has been good to great until 2013’s ...Like Clockwork which just didn’t sit right with me outside of a select few songs.
This year, the group’s seventh LP represents a new artistic low. Featuring limp “dancy” grooves, irritatingly-clean instruments, and some of the most laughable lyrics I’ve ever heard, the band we see on Villains bears little resemblance the one that I fell in love with years ago. I recognize that wanting a band to stay the same is a shitty thing for a fan to ask, but I just can’t understand, enjoy, or tolerate the direction that the group is headed. I’m a lifelong fan, but that makes these recent records hurt all the more. When you love a band, you devour each release that they put out. Even if the last few records haven’t hit as hard, you stick with them because you want them to be better. The excitement of something new is impossible to stay away from, but now after months of listening, all I want is for Villains to stay away from me.
Runner-up: Portugal. The Man - Woodstock
While I wrote glowingly about Portugal. The Man’s entire discography last month, Woodstock (while not bad) is not an album that I particularly wanted. It’s not the band’s worst, but it’s the most sterile, safe, and poppy album that the group has ever created. Outside of a handful of adrenaline-pumping car-ready songs, Woodstock takes no risks. The album breaks no new ground, asks nothing of its audience, and seems entirely too content to settle. While those qualities are the exact opposite of what I expect from the trailblazing Portlanders, I’ll hold my reservations until I hear what comes next.
Album I Feel Like I Will Adore In A Few Years
Winner: Fleet Foxes - Crack-up
Until earlier this year I never particularly liked Fleet Foxes. In preparation for their 2017 release, I found myself endlessly replaying the group’s self-titled LP alongside Helplessness Blues while doing other things. Somewhere along the line “inoffensive background music” turned into brilliant folk epics, and I finally understood what made the band so unique. However, in a Bon Iver-esque pivot, Fleet Foxes’ third LP Crack-up represents an experimental shift in sounds, and unfortunately, it’s a change that doesn’t sit particularly well with me. There are some awe-inspiring moments scattered throughout this record, but as a whole, it’s not a release that stuck with me in the slightest, let alone one that can hold a candle to the band’s earlier work. I recognize that there’s something special going on in Crack-up, but I feel like it will just take some time for me to properly excavate it, just as I did with the group’s first two records.
Runner-up: Sun Kil Moon - Common As Light and Love Are Red Valleys of Blood
Sun Kil Moon is another artist that I’d never listened to until 2017. After hearing this year’s mouthful of an album Common As Light and Love Are Red Valleys of Blood, I came away pleasantly surprised. Featuring solemn, looping instrumentation and long podcast-like narration by Mark Kozelek, I listened to all two hours and ten minutes in complete fascination. I dipped back into his previous work like Benji and loved it just as much, but for whatever reason, I never ventured back into Valleys after that first listen. Maybe it was the album’s lengthy running time or the idea that the narration would prove too distracting for a casual listen, but Valleys always felt too daunting to dive back into. I feel like one day when I’m a middle-aged dad with a couple of kids I’ll finally have the time to revisit this album and it will speak to me on an entirely new level. The songs and stories here feel like something that I will find solace in when I’m older, but I just don’t have the 2+ hours right now.
WTF Moment of the Year
Winner: Bhad Bhabie
Of all the memes to emerge from 2017, few have been as successful as 14-year-old Danielle Bregoli. She first gained traction in January thanks to a Dr. Phil clip in which Mrs. Bregoli challenged an audience member to “cash her outside.” The teen’s delivery of the phrase caught fire and became a meme/infinitely-renewable social media caption for a hot minute. One of the more perplexing news stories of 2017 (and that’s saying something) was Danielle’s announcement of her music career as “Bhad Bhabi” complete with a deal on Atlantic Records. Preceded by an appearance in a Kodak Black video, this announcement blindsided the music world and spawned a million think pieces. However when Bregoli released her first song in August the unthinkable happened: It wasn’t that bad.
The video for “These Heaux” was the first part of a one-two punch alongside “Hi Bich” that set social media ablaze in September. As everyone collectively remembered the months-old meme from what seemed like a lifetime ago, most people took this as an opportunity to laugh at her once again. Meanwhile, I watched the same videos as everyone, and recognized it as bad music, but found myself embarrassingly enjoying both songs. “Heaux” and “Hi Bich” are both competent and well-produced Rae Sremmurd-esque bangers that, yes, are propped up by production, but still enjoyable. The truth is, they’re musical fast food. It’s not nutritious, healthy, or even filling, but sometimes you just need to bask in the utter trashiness that is Bhad Bhabie.
Runner-up: Lil Pump
Earlier this year I wrote a 3,000-word post in which I attempted to reconcile my newfound love of trap with my extreme dislike of the current crop of SoundCloud rappers. While that write-up was primarily inspired by the reprehensible human being that is xxxtentacion, I now regret lumping Lil Pump into the same category. While his brand of blown-out hyped-up trap is of the same school as xxx, Lil Pump isn’t nearly as bad on a personal or musical level as Onfroy. More surprisingly, I actually found myself liking his breakout single “Gucci Gang” more than I am comfortable admitting. Featuring a worryingly-mindless chorus and the same laundry list of flexes as most trap hits, “Gucci Gang” manages to be an infectious banger that has also propelled Pump to the forefront of both the charts and popular culture.
Most Un-sexy Sex Song
Winner: Alt-J “Hit Me Like That Snare”
In an interview with Q Magazine, Alt-J’s lead singer Joe Newman described “Hit Me Like That Snare” as an “atypically filthy psychedelic grind.” Wow, guys. Wow. If you want to avoid listening to the song, I don’t blame you. All you need to know about this track is that the band rhymes “slithering” with “scissoring” (yes, that kind), and the lead singer describes the song as “spicy.” Whew.
Runner-up: DJ Khaled “Wild Thoughts”
While I thought “Wild Thoughts” was exceedingly-sensual on first listen, the song now has too many things working against it for me to find any titillation here. From Rihanna’s baby talk to memories of dancing hot dogs, I just can’t listen to this song without picturing Santana’s face, or DJ Khaled screaming. The single achieved a level of cultural-pervasiveness so quickly that it became saturated beyond its original artistic vision. God knows I have no problem with DJ Khaled, but this track now contains too many distractions to remain pure. The music video is still unspeakably steamy, but as a whole, “Wild Thoughts” has lost what little sexy luster it initially had.
Am I The Only One Seeing This Shit?
Winner: Rappers Counting
I’ll admit that this category was created with the sole purpose of repurposing already-written articles, but that doesn’t make the observations contained within them any less valid. The first of these two hyper-specific happenings of 2017 can be found in this article where I outline three examples of rappers using numbers as lyrics. Not like clever wordplay involving numbers, but counting upwards sequentially one numeral at a time. It’s a weird thing to have happened multiple times in one year and feels like such a lazy cop-out of songwriting, but at the same time, each artist in the list manages to make it work for one reason or another.
Runner-up: 21 Savage’s Food Lyrics
Another weirdly-specific phenomenon of 2017 is something that I noticed while listening to 21 Savage’s debut Issa Album over the summer. Despite his tough gangster exterior and dark, moody beats, 21 also managed to fit an alarming number of food references into his first retail outing. While not particularly jarring, these references provide a weird contrast to the rest of the Mr. Savage’s “murder music” and end up sticking out like (multiple) sore thumbs throughout the record. It happened just consistently enough that I began laughing every time they poked up, and I felt the cosmic need to compile them somewhere, so I did.
Most Insensitive and Heavy-handed Song about Suicide
Winner: Arcade Fire “Creature Comfort”
On this second single off Arcade Fire’s Everything Now, we hear Win Butler clumsily address the topics of suicide and self-harm. The song’s first verse explains “Some boys hate themselves / Spend their lives resenting their fathers / Some girls hate their bodies / Stand in the mirror and wait for the feedback.” Taken on their own, these lines aren’t particularly offensive, but it’s the second verse where things get truly tactless: “Assisted suicide / She dreams about dying all the time / She told me she came so close / Filled up the bathtub and put on our first record.” I mean, what a pretentious and shitty way to insert yourself into someone else’s misery. It’s such a bizarre form of narcissism and masturbating to your own past, this line truly is one of the grossest sentiments that I’ve heard put to music over the past year.
Runner-up: Brand New “Same Logic / Teeth”
While it’s true that suicide isn’t exactly a groundbreaking topic for an emo band, Brand New somehow manages to stumble over it fantastically one of the few times that they tackle the subject. Surrounded by excellent songs of diverse sounds, styles, and topics, “Same Logic / Teeth” sticks out as Science Fiction’s most significant blunder. With questionable lyrics, bizarre vocal choices, and overwrought sentiments, it’s easy to see why most bands would prefer not write songs about killing yourself because the only time I have ever wanted to end my life is when I’m hearing Jesse Lacey sing about how fish won’t judge me by my faults.
WTF Moment of the Year 2: Weird Boogaloo
Winner: Vulfpeck ���Captain Hook”
Venturing back to the “WTF Well” for two more entries, another of 2017’s biggest surprises came at the end of Vulfpeck’s Mr. Finish Line. The band’s third full-length studio album is a stone-cold chiller, but after half an hour of unspeakably funky tracks, “Captain Hook,” the record’s final song threw me (and every other listener) for a massive loop. Teased as a collaboration with Bootsy Collins, most fans expected a brainwave-shifting epic of an album closer, a modern “I’d Rather Be With You” but with even tighter instrumentation. What we got was a goofy comedy track featuring two of Vulfpeck’s members affecting the voices of an infant and an old Jewish man. Bootsy’s contributions are noticeable but minimal, and as a whole, the track is just a fantastically-bizarre experiment. “Captain Hook” is a weird child-like song featuring a trio of the three most disparate voices you could ever imagine, however (now that I know what to expect), I absolutely adore the song. It’s such a weird marriage of voices that, when combined with Vulf’s approach to music, circles back from annoying to endearing. It’s one final cherry of weirdness on top of the funk sundae that is Mr. Finish Line.
Runner-up: Taylor Swift “Look What You Made Me Do”
Preceded by snake imagery and a dark rebranding, “Look What You Made Me Do” marked Taylor Swift’s long-awaited return to the forefront of pop. After 2015’s 1989, numerous turbulent relationships, a public unmasking via Kardashian, and a complicated legal battle, the song represents Swift’s full embrace of the dark side. As the first single released off Reputation, “Look What You Made Me Do” was met with waves of confusion when it dropped this fall. From the Right Said Fred sample to the thinly-veiled jabs at her detractors, nearly everything about this song was poked and prodded through upon it’s August 25th release. There’s a strange schadenfreude to watching the biggest pop star flail to spectacularly, but at the end of the day she’ll still make a million dollars, sold-out rock stadiums, and be more successful than the richest DC supervillain, so as much as I want her to succeed, I guess it’s also okay to laugh. I definitely haven’t “come around” to the song, and I doubt I ever will, but the air of “what the fuck” was palpable the night that this song was released.
Weirdest Flex
Winner: Lil Pump “Gucci Gang”
After a brief intro and meme-ready chorus on “Gucci Gang,” Lil Pump surveys his surroundings and begins to describe them in the song’s sole verse. “My lean cost more than your rent” he boasts, “Your momma still live in a tent” he continues, “Still slangin' dope in the 'jects / Me and my grandma take meds.” These lines are so outlandish and bizarre that I can’t help but love them. First, we get the worrying comparison between the upkeep of his own opiate addiction to monthly rent, then the (uncalled for) implication that the listener’s mother is homeless, and the final cherry on top: the fact that Pump spends quality time popping pills with his grandmother.
It’s actually one of Pump’s numerous references to the elderly on his scant number of released songs, leading me to think that this is either A) a genuine lyric, or B) a worrying cry for help. At least he’s spending some quality time with his elders before they pass. Even if it’s a drug-fueled haze, I hope that both parties treasure their remaining time together.
Runner-up: Drake “Gyalchester”
On one of More Life’s most hard-hitting tracks, “Gyalchester” finds Drake braggadociously displaying his opulence in rapid lyrical flashes. Halfway through the first verse, the song’s beat cuts out just long enough for Drake to exclaim “I don't take naps / Me and the money are way too attached to go and do that.” While the sentiment of money over everything is hardly new for the rap game, using naps as a framing device to explain how fond of currency you are is such a “Drake way” to go about it. At this point, Drake is far beyond the memes of his earlier career, but lines like this one are how he got that reputation in the first place. All this said, I’m not gonna begrudge anyone their beauty sleep or lack thereof, everyone has their own unique schedule... Plus the song bangs, so cornball lyrics are easier to overlook.
Most Abhorrent Cover Art
Winner: The Darkness - Pinewood Smile
I honestly don’t want to write too much because I just want to stop looking at this. The facial hair. The teeth. The nose ring. The Photoshopped band members. I’m sorry I had to subject you guys to this, but this abortion of a cover is too bad to not share.
Runner-up: Maroon 5 - Red Pill Blues
*Adam Levine walks into the studio*
“Hey, have you guys heard of Snapchat?”
Most Undeservedly Shit Upon
Winner: Arcade Fire - Everything Now
For the sake of ending on a somewhat positive note, I’m going to wrap up by talking about two albums that were widely disliked, but I managed to appreciate. First off we have Arcade Fire’s fifth LP Everything Now. While I did just spend a paragraph dunking on the album’s suicide track, I actually thoroughly enjoyed this record. I’ll start this off by saying I have no reverence for this band, I don’t care for their older work, and they’ve always struck me as a painfully average indie group. Perhaps thanks to this lowered expectation, I emerged from my first listen of Everything Now with a smile on my face. It was goofy and cheesy, and about as far from subtle as you can get, but I still enjoyed it for what it was. Since the album is in this “shit upon” category, I guess it goes without saying that I was largely alone in this sentiment.
Maybe people were turned off by the unrelenting social media campaign, or just expected more based on the group’s previous work, but either way, it seemed like indieheads the world over were sick to their stomachs after hearing this record. I personally think the album has a wonderful Abba-esque charm to it. There’s a tremendous melodic through-line with the titular “Everything Now,” there are memorable choruses on “Creature Comfort,” and even a gloriously chunky riff on “Chemistry.”
At the end of the day, I think I enjoy Everything Now for the same reason that I enjoyed M83’s Junk. I went into both albums with low expectations and ended up loving the cheesy throwback vibe that they embraced. I can totally understand why that pivot would turn off long-time fans, but apparently, this sound is right up my alley. It’s not going to be on my end of the year list or anything, all I’m saying is Everything Now is good for what it is. You know what? It’s great for what it is. If fans could take their blinders off, remove their feelings on the album’s lead-up, and take this as a standalone adventure, they would probably enjoy Everything Now for the goofy romp that it is.
Runner-up: Foo Fighters - Concrete and Gold
Even before Concrete and Gold was released, I saw about a half dozen articles about how the Foo Fighters have nowhere else to go and are the embodiment of “New Dad Rock.” While it’s true that the band is unchallenging to listen to and don’t exactly think outside of the box, the criticism is a double-edged sword. Aside from being a thinly-veiled put-down, the dad rock label means that Foo Fighters won’t ever release a “bad” record, but they’re also never going to release another “classic” like Colour and Shape. While I agree the group is in a weird spot career-wise, I resent the idea that they won’t ever release something impactful as Colour and Shape simply because they’re older. Apart from the fact that 2011’s Wasting Light was one of the band’s best, on Concrete and Gold we see a band that’s still incredibly hungry.
Eschewing the conceptual framing devices of their past couple releases, Foo Fighters set out to make a straight-up rock record, and they succeeded. The band still go through their usual motions, oscillating from biting punky tracks to slow moody epics, but as a whole Concrete is a record that’s well-paced, well-produced, and solid from front to back. Just because it’s played on the radio doesn't mean it’s an inherently “okay” album, and just because the band is growing old doesn’t mean they’re settling. Concrete and Gold is concrete proof of that.
#End of the year#music#Un-awards#Worst of#queens of the stone age#portugal. the man#Fleet Foxes#sun kil moon#bhad bhabie#lil pump#alt-j#DJ KHALED#21 savage#arcade fire#brand new#vulfpeck#taylor swift#drake#maroon 5#everything now#foo fighters
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WHAT ARE YOUR MUSE’S AESTHETICS ?
REPOST , don’t reblog ! BOLD any that applies to your muse and italicize any that kind of applies to your muse . feel free to add to the list .
TAGGED BY : stealing this from my girl lizzie @liightningchosen bc i thought this looked cool and also need inspiration and motivation to get my ass writing again TAGGING : @startingxoverxanew, @heroicissm, @herocstolegxnds, @last-flying-grayson, @constellatiicns, @repeatedhistories, @serotiinal. and also whoever else wants to do it
COLOURS .
RED. brown. orange. yellow. green. BLUE. PURPLE. pink. BLACK. white. teal. silver. GOLD. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. CHARCOAL GREY. forest green. apple red. violet. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. bubblegum pink. sky blue. pale jade. heather grey. lavender purple.
ELEMENTS .
FIRE. ICE. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. MOON. stars. sun. HEAT. cold. STEAM. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. MIDNIGHT. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops.
BODY .
claws. LONG FINGERS. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. BARE FEET. NECK.SHOULDERS. legs. freckles. UNSEEN BRUISES. canines. SCARS. scratches.wounds. burns. fingernails. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. TEARS. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. ATHLETIC. HAIR. fur. sleek.
WEAPONS .
FISTS. LEGS. sword. dagger. spear. lance. bow & arrow. hammer. shield. poison. GUNS. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. MAGICAL ITEMS. magic. rocks. mud balls. claws. teeth. STEALTH. strategy. forehead. warhammer. polearm. flail.
MATERIALS .
GOLD. silver. copper. platinum. titanium.rose gold. diamonds. pearls. rubies. SAPPHIRES. emeralds. AMETHYSTS. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. LEATHER. SILK. velvet.DENIM. linen. cotton. CHARCOAL. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. MARBLE. dust. glitter. BLOOD. .dirt. mud. SMOKE. ash. SHADOW. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. ribbon. moonstone.
NATURE .
grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daises. sunflowers. tulips. lavender. petals. seeds. hay. sand. ROCKS. roots. flowers. fungi. ocean. RIVER. frozen lake. meadow. VALLEY. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. CAVES. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. snow. mist. pond.
ANIMALS .
BIG CATS. WOLVES. foxes. eagles. owls. falcons.hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. BIRDS. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. HORSES. cats. DOGS. bunnies. penguins. CROWS. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. monkeys. raccoons. rats.
FOODS / DRINKS .
SUGAR. SALT. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. vodka. BEER. COFFEE. sake. tea. SPICES. herbs.apples. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. MEAT. fish.PIES. DESSERTS. CHOCOLATE. lollies. cream. CARAMEL. berries. nuts. cinnamon. BURGERS. SURF ‘N’ TURF BURRITOS. PIZZA. ambrosia. eggs. milk. raspberries.
HOBBIES .
MUSIC. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching.FIGHTING. writing. COMPOSING. cooking. baking. sewing. TRAINING. dancing. acting.SINGING. MARTIAL ARTS. SELF DEFENSE. WAR TACTICS. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. COMPUTER. PHONE. MOVIES. theater. libraries. books. magazines. CDS. RECORDS. CASSETTES. PIANO. strings. violin. GUITAR. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. flute. bells.exploring. PLAYING CARDS. poker chips. chess. dice. MOTORCYCLE RIDING. EATING.SLEEPING. climbing. RUNNING.JOGGING. PARKOUR. studying.
STYLE .
lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. BOOTS. ankle boots. heels. leggings. trousers. JEANS. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. BRACELET. ring. pendant. hat. beanie hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. BELT. sash. coat. LEATHER JACKET. HOOD. GLOVES. socks.MASKS. mittens. cowls. braces.watches. glasses. sun glasses. straw hat. visor. eye contacts. MAKEUP. ribbons. hoodie.sweater. CONVERSES. tennis shoes.boxers. briefs. boxer briefs. SHORTS. cargo. cropped pants. CROP TOP. cuffed pants. clawed gauntlet.
MISC .
balloons. bubbles. CITYSCAPE.LIGHT. DARK. CANDLES. GROWTH. decay. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. PHOTOS. mirrors. pets. diary.journal. fairy lights. madness. sanity.SADNESS. happiness. optimism. pessimism. LONELINESS. FAMILY. FRIENDS. comrades. assistants. co-workers. ENEMIES.LOYALTY. SMOKING. drugs. kindness. LOVE. HUGS. kisses. spring. SUMMER. autumn. winter. farmland. countryside. suburban. village.
#( x. ive always been a girl armed for war and war has learned to fear me || aesthetic )#( x. no one ever really outgrows their goth phase; it just becomes more refined and it ages like a fine wine || headcanons )
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Immortals Pt. 4
My closet was lacking in color. Every article of clothing was black, grey, or white. I peeked my head into Ivy’s closet but her situation was much different. Her closet was full of clothes that I recognized from her house. I walked back to my closet and started the search for a dress. After what felt like hours of debating I chose a black strapless dress. The bodice was tight and covered in black iridescent beads. The bottom half flowed out to make it look like a ball gown. The back was cut into a v revealing a good portion of my back. I decided on simple black heels and I added a beaded choker to wear. Ivy braided the top half of my hair into a crown and let the bottom half hang down. After adding some red lipstick I decided I was ready to go. I looked into the mirror. I didn’t realize how different I looked now. I was thinner and my face looked cruel. My cheeks were hollow and my cheekbones were sharp. Even my eyes looked dark. Nothing about my face was kind anymore.
I turned around to face Ivy. She wore a long green emerald gown with cut outs in the sides. Her auburn hair was twisted high on her head and her bright blue eyes looked at me in awe.
“Wow, you look really good.”
We walked down the hall together into the banquet hall. The banquet hall had ornate chandeliers that looked centuries old. The ceiling was painted and the walls had art strewn about. I walked out into the crowd with Ivy on my arm. Minutes later we found Ivy, Tatum, and Eden. Ivy was wearing a navy blue gown that was low cut and showed off her tan skin. Tatum wore a gold dress that almost matched her eyes. It was a simple straight dress that clung to her curves. Eden wore a simple white dress with her long black hair falling in ringlets around her pale shoulders. The five of us danced and talked the whole evening. By the end of the night we were all exhausted. We talked to new people and some of our future supervisors. There was one girl who stood in the corner with a boy all night. They looked like brother and sister. Both of them had only black hair and blood red eyes. They didn’t look normal. They were both unnaturally beautiful. The girls hair fell down to her waist just like mine. She wore a silver dress that was see through on top and turned to actual diamonds through the skirt. Her brother wore a neatly tailored black suit and his hair was cropped. He wore a wicked grin on his face. I couldn’t stop staring. That is until a snobby voice interrupted me. She wore a deep purple dress that was made of complicated straps. Her fake red hair was pulled up into a bun directly on top of her head. “Well, well, well. It’s not enough to have one guy. You need two? He isn’t someone you should mess with. I’m just looking out for you. His sister is messed up and he isn’t much better. They wouldn’t talk to me. They just looked at me with blank stares.” She crossed her arms and raised her eye brows at me. “Well I don’t want to talk to you either whoever you are.” I turned away from the girl and her friend and looked for Aidan. But instead of Aidan I found a short girl with short brown blonde hair and the same striking purple eyes that I have. She was very tiny but she radiates energy. Her dress looked older but very beautiful. It was a pale gold that made her skin look radiant. A very tall muscular boy stood with his arm around her. He looked a lot like Titus. I approached slowly. As I did I got the end of the conversation. “- only want to meet her. There are only three of us in this building and I really want a friend who won’t die on me.” I reached out and touched the girls shoulder. She turned around and her entire face lit up. “You must be Finley.”
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tagged by: stolen from @lylxt (they said anyone could! XD)
tagging: Anyone who wants to do this. Go. Be free.
REPOST ; DON’T REBLOG.
BOLD any which apply to your muse ! Feel free to add to the list !
Done for my OC Holly from my Breath of the Wild fanfiction “The Rito and the Witch” for fun!
❖ WHAT ARE YOUR MUSE’S AESTHETICS?
[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. violet. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. bubblegum pink. sky blue. pale jade.
[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops.
[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. neck. shoulders. legs. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. fingernails. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. athletic. hair. fur.
[ WEAPONS ] fists. legs. sword. dagger. spear. bow & arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. claws. teeth. stealth. strategy.
[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. copper. platinum. titanium. rose gold. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. ribbon.
[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. sunflowers. tulips. lavender. wildflowers. petals. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. fungi. ocean. river. frozen lake. meadow. valley. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. snow. mist. pond.
[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. foxes. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. penguins. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. frogs.
[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. vodka. beer. gin. coffee. sake. tea. fruit juice. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. bread. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. ambrosia. eggs. milk. poultry.
[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. baking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. war tactics. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. strings. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. flute. bells. hiking. exploring. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. sleeping. climbing. flying. running. jogging. parkour. studying.
[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. muscle shirt. dress shirt. boots. ankle boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. beanie hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. mittens. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sun glasses. straw hat. visor. eye contacts. makeup. eyeliner. ribbons. sweater. converses. tennis shoes. boxers. briefs. boxer briefs. shorts. cargo. sweat pants. cropped pants. crop top. cuffed pants. hoodie.
[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. city scape. light. dark. candles. growth. decay. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. journal. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. clan. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. kisses. spring. summer. autumn. winter. farmland. countryside. suburban. village.
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Dandelion in Darkness
by titaniasfics
Banner by the amazing @akai-echo
Summary: Katniss is the Queen of the Underworld. Equal in power to the Goddesses of Lightning and the Sea, she chooses a life of solitude in her dark kingdom. That is, until she meets Peeta, son of Demetros, the Earth God. She cannot help but love the young god and would possess him at all costs. But what consequences will her choice have on the world?
Retelling of the Persephone/Hades myth. Hades!Katniss and Persephone!Peeta.
A story in three acts.
Personae Dramatis:
Katniss Everdeen - Hades/Pluto/Queen of the Dead
Gale - Thanatos
Madge - Hermes
Prim - Apollo
Mags - Seer
Mr. Mellark - Demetros
Peeta Mellark - Persephone/Proserpina
Haymitch - Aphrodite
Effie - Cupid
Johanna - Ares
Wiress - Hephaestus
Paylor - Zeus
Annie - Poseidon
Finnick - Amphitrite
Thresh - Artemis
Rue - Gaia
Beetee - Cyclops (Forged Katniss’s Helmet)
Brutus -Charon
Chaff -Herdsman of Asphodel Fields, Keeper of Katniss’s horses
Plutarch, Caesar and Crane - Moirai/Fates
Ennobaria, Glimmer and Cashmere -Furies
Buttercup - Cerberus
Prologue:
It began with the wind.
Icy and bitter, it swept across Panem in furious gales. Trees bent before it and man-made objects struggled to remain rooted to the ground. People who ventured beyond their homes saw their skin redden and crack as they leaned against it. They had never experienced a cold so cruel and scrambled to find warmth and shelter. In a land where the weather expressed itself in the mildest way, the sudden harshness of this new season was met with horror and confusion.
After the wind came the snow. Though beautiful to the eyes of the citizens of Panem, it brought its own complications - frozen rivers and streams, slippery streets, dead crops and animals. When the land of Panem was covered in ice, the hunger followed soon after, and the lamentations could be heard atop the Capitol itself. People suffered as the earth grew colder and harder. Around them, life receded, overwhelmed by the power of death. They began to tell stories of a world that would end in ice.
The people clamored to the gods for relief. Why were they being punished? Why were the gods angry? Oracles and seers were consulted all over Panem, now desperate at the prospect of their own demise.
Every person touched by the gods in the land of Panem returned with the same response. Demetros’s son had vanished and now he wandered the world, searching for him. As he hunted for the daemon who had robbed him of his youngest, he withheld the life force that would nourish the earth and the people of Panem languished in consequence. He had vowed that until his son had been returned to him, winter would reign eternal in the land of the living.
Act I:
Death of a Seer.
She wore the war armor of her divine office.
Sleek, shiny leather covered her entire body, made of the hide of the immortal herds that roamed the Asphodel Fields, in the care of Chaff, the herdsman of the gods. Her booted feet could cause the earth to tremble with each step but she took care to step lightly and to mask her presence when she took her rare excursions to the Overworld. Her helmet was forged by the great Beetee as part of her suit of armor during the war against the defeated Titan Lord, Cornelius. It granted her invisibility, provoked fear in her enemies and made physical the awesome might of her power.
She made her way through the dark chambers of her innermost lair, hidden deep beneath the bowels of the earth, where the boiling core made rock and metal turn to rivers of lava. In the upper levels of her palace, raw diamonds, rubies, onyxes and emeralds studded the walls and ceilings. She paused in her weapons chamber and picked up the heavy, gold scepter, with which she commanded the earth to split open before her, and continued her stately walk until she left her habitation behind. Crossing beyond the bands of eternal night that hid the long entrance of Tartarus, she reach the Gates of her estate which were guarded by Gale, the incarnation of death.
“Chaff has prepared your horses,” he said solemnly, face dark and inscrutable as her own.
She nodded in acknowledgement as they strode together across the great pomegranate orchard to reach the stables. The Underworld was a silent place, even for those who had life enough to speak. Those who were divinely decreed to live beyond the mortal world moved beneath skies that were not dotted with clouds or the vibrant fire of Primrose’s chariot riding from east to west. Instead, as far as the eye could see, the world was suffused with the vapors of the seething core, where the very physiognomy of the earth was decided from the shifting and collision of the earth’s tectonic plates. The deepest channels of mineralized water flowed just beyond them, feeding the spring from which Oceanus originated - the ocean at the edge of existence. She found a melancholy pleasure in observing the deep browns, reds, and greys of her kingdom. It did not contain the vibrant colors of the living world but possessed another kind of beauty altogether.
“It is uncommon for the Queen of the Dead herself to accompany a soul to the Underworld. She must have been a great Seer,” Gale probed.
“Prim asked that I attend. I cannot deny my sister. And it’s been many months since I’ve seen her.”
“It is rare for the light of her chariot to penetrate into this dark place,” he answered and said no more. He did not help her on to her gleaming, golden chariot - her step barely touched the ground, and she did not expect such deference. Despite her distance from the living world, she was well known for being the most humane of the gods.
She fixed her helmet over her head and stared out at the broad backs and wide shoulders of her four immortal steeds. They were the color of the deepest black, reflecting no light and bearing no blemish. Taller by half than even Gale, who had one of the most imposing statures of all the gods, they wore manes of silky ebony that flowed like a trail of black fire behind them when they took to the skies. Beyond them lay the shores of Oceanus, the sea that separated her from the living world. Picking up her reins, she clicked her tongue at the four giant steeds, stirring them to life.
Nodding at Gale, who now stared transfixed at the horses, she snapped her whip, rousing them into motion accompanied by an uncoordinated chorus of neighs. She lurched in her chariot as they pulled her forward. Gathering speed, they hurtled toward a cliff overlooking the gentle waves of Oceanus. The dim light of a distant sun, the light of her sister, brightened between the walls of the chasm that opened to allow her passage to the Overworld. The rush of wind lifted the braid that held her hair, long and black as the Six Nights of Tartarus. The explosion of speed was one of the very few things that made her blood quicken and soon, she was whooping with undignified excitement. What did it matter - with her helmet in place, there was no one to see her.
The Babylonians knew her as Ereshkigal, the Aztecs called her Mictecacihuatl. The Japanese prayed to Izanami and the Greeks feared Hades.
But to the people of Panem, she was Katniss, Queen of the Dead and Guardian of the Underworld.
XXXXX
With helmet firmly in place, Katniss set down outside of a village, near the Sun Temple built in honor of her sister Prim, who was sometimes called Helios or the divine sun. This moniker was a mistake, of course, for it was her chariot who bore that name. But those who worshipped her often ignored the distinction. As if Katniss’s thoughts had summoned her, the lovely girl appeared in her resplendent glory, golden hair and skin gleaming with the muted light that she brought to the world when she rode across the sky.
“Does your chariot ride alone today?” Katniss asked, shedding her garments as she walked in exchange for a soft, black chiton, cinched at the waist with a belt studded with emeralds and sapphires. She reveled in the warmth of her sister, all goodness and beauty, blazing like a star in her arms as they held each other in greeting.
“Helios is a living thing, like your horses. She is my constant companion and knows the path I take across the sky,” Prim answered.
Katniss felt a powerful pang of jealousy. She preferred no one’s company over that of her sister’s but, because of their responsibilities, they were often separated. That she should share time with anyone else in any kind of intimacy stimulated all of Katniss’s less tender feelings.
“Pity Helios is not here now, to give you her much desired company.”
Prim laughed, her light-blue eyes blazing with humor and understanding. “Do not worry, dark sister. You are always my favorite, even though you are a most frightful creature.”
Katniss felt her humor soften. “You must never be afraid of me.”
Prim leaned in to Katniss, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I can never be afraid of you!”
Katniss shook her head, allowing herself a small smile - for there was no one in the world who could provoke her gentler spirit except her sister.
“How may I serve you?” Katniss asked at length.
Prim became more serious. “One month ago, the great Seer, Mags, fell ill. She was a most devoted servant and those gifted in my arts have struggled in vain to heal her.”
“So you said. You esteem her so greatly?”
Prim nodded. “I do. But she will soon depart. It is the sad fate of all mortals ---”
“You tried to cure her despite everything,” Katniss concluded.
“I did, but the Moirai will not be defied. Her thread has been cut. I wish only for a peaceful passing. I know this is more of a task for Gale or even Madge but---”
Katniss sighed. “But you want her to have the honor of being escorted by me.”
Prim smiled. “Yes! I know you will not let her shadow become lost. Nor will you allow the judges to slight her in the least. She is a good woman, for this she is well known.”
Katniss placed a hand over her sister’s. “Do not fear. I will end her suffering and take her directly to the Elysian Fields, as you have asked.”
Prim squeezed her hand. “Thank you, dearest one.”
Pressing her hand in return, Katniss turned towards the bleached, white building that stood in glory to the Goddess of the Sun. Katniss stepped inside, following the smell of the mortal’s decaying lifebreath. She passed marble statues, rendering her sister in different poses - remarkable likenesses that made Katniss pause, if only for an instant, to admire their detail. The hand that had sculpted these figures had been touched by the Muses.
She finally entered a darkened room, where an old woman reclined on a simple mat. Long grey hair lay tousled about her, her skin deeply lined. Her eyes were rested closed against jowly cheeks. Upon Katniss’s arrival, though, her eyes fluttered open and she stared at Katniss without fear or surprise.
“Great...Goddess,” she said slowly, with the exhaustion that comes from fighting against Death itself. “Queen of the Underworld...of wealth...and of...secret...places...”
Some mortals were uncommonly gifted in the perception of the gods in their lives. These were the ones who became poets and priests, seers and wise people. And Mags was one of the greatest. “Shhhh…” Katniss said gently. “Your troubles are at an end.”
“Will you be gentle?” Mags asked, looking suddenly so very small beneath her. Katniss never forgot how fragile and ephemeral humans were. These creatures, who built temples and worshiped the immortals, were just as necessary to the gods’ existence as the gods were to theirs. It was a fact gods too often forgot.
“It will be but as a breeze over the sea,” Katniss whispered. “You will not suffer.”
“Thank you,” Mags answered before she took one long, last breath. Katniss brushed her fingers over her sternum. The skin of her hands darkened to her elbows as she called forth her supernatural power. A strong wind blew in through the opening in the room. Slowly, with a delicacy no one would believe she possessed, Katniss drew Mags’s shadow from her chest. As she stepped from her body, Mags’s aspect became sharper, more defined until the spirit Katniss drew forth became, in appearance, the woman who now lay still on the mat.
Staring at the shadow was like gazing into a star studded night. A constellation of lights dotted the darkness, each pin prick representing a good deed or a kindness bestowed on another. Some souls were bereft of those diamond-like eruptions; others, like Mags, were covered in their goodness like a bride adorned in riches for her groom. Katniss felt remarkably comforted by the evident purity of the seer’s soul and knew there would be no question where she would spend her eternity.
“Come,” Katniss said gently, beckoning to the shadow to follow. Without hesitation, Mags floated beside her mistress, taking one last glance at her mortal shell before leaving the room, and the temple, forever.
Katniss arrived to where her sister stood. The shadow, now rendered nearly translucent in sunlight, shimmered in excitement at the sight of the goddess she had served for so long. Mags dropped to her knees before Prim, hands together in supplication.
“Rise, my servant,” Prim said in a voice that sounded to mortal ears like the melodies of all the music that ever was or ever could be composed. “You have served me well. My sister will care for you, with the same kindness you have shown all who have come to pay homage at my temple.”
“Oh, great Goddess!” Mags said, rising to her feet. Even in death, her eyes were wide with awe.
Katniss stepped away from Mags and Prim to take in her surroundings - the preparations for the funeral were underway - novices under the Seer were tearful as they went about their duties. Katniss was invisible to them as to all mortals. She made sure of it. But as she observed the activities of the humans around her, she felt the eyes of another, studying her, as if etching her into clay or stone. In her eagerness to see Prim, she had largely ignored the presence of anyone else. The shadow of Mags now floated beside her, waiting patiently for the escort that would take her to Elysium and to her eternal peace.
Above the hillock, surveying his dominion, was Demetros. A giant of a god, with gold hair and pale skin that blazed in a way that Prim’s chariot did not, though they were both life incarnate. Hers was the power of pure energy, of origins and creations, of the sun that gave to all without discrimination. His was the power of living things - green, fecund, full of birth but also of the decay that fed life in an endless cycle of existence and non-existence.
He was a fastidious deity and took great pains to care for the kingdom that had been entrusted to him since the days of the Titanomachy. His dominion stretched from the deepest roots of the most ancient trees to the tips of eagle’s wings that soared beneath the foot of the Capitol itself. Every creature that drew its sustenance from the earth was under his protection and it was his power that fueled life. He existed in necessary symbiosis with Katniss - for he was Life and she was Death and one could not exist without the other.
However, it was not Demetros who captivated her attention, but the youth who stood beside him. Demetros was famously jealous of his children and hid them even from the eyes of other gods so that Katniss did not recognize this young being at his side. And a god he was, most likely a son, for he possessed the same golden color. He quivered with the same power as Demetros, carried the same powerful build. His eyes had stolen blue from Prim’s firmament and were of a color that was dazzling even from the distance where she stood. He stared in her direction with none of the fear with which she was usually greeted, but with open curiosity, as if he could not fathom what exactly he was looking at.
But there was an impunity, even a challenge, in his now roving eyes. She fit her helmet onto her head, which appeared to startle him. This was no surprise, for from his perspective, she would have simply vanished before his eyes. He scanned the place where she stood, and the company of people milling about the burial site. She was sure he was searching for her but he would not see her unless she willed it.
The shadow at her side shifted, catching her attention.
“What say you, Seer?” Katniss asked, unable to keep the impatience from her voice. She continued to contemplate the young man, and resented even the smallest distraction from this pursuit.
“Fate, my queen,” Mags said in a voice that, to the ears of a mortal, would have sounded like nothing more than the beating of a sparrow’s wing.
“I have no time for riddles, human.”
“Fate,” she repeated. “The Moirai have made their decision. Your fate is now tied to the world. Soon Winter will come and the living world will cry out in lamentation until Spring is restored.”
Katniss pursed her lips in displeasure. She took great pains to stay out of the affairs of humans, exercising her dominion in her own kingdom and excusing herself from the happenings of the Capitol. She cared very little for the petty jealousies, affairs and vendettas of her fellow deities.
“You’re mistaken. I have nothing to do with these things you call Spring and Winter. Come.” She made herself visible to Prim, nodding towards her sister, who looked at her with a longing that made Katniss’s cold heart glow warm and aching. Katniss desired only the solitude of her kingdom, to be insulated from such unfamiliar and powerful sensations. She withdrew from the now dispersed company but not before she cast a last glance at the young man, who scanned the horizon beyond her. Katniss had a fleeting thought, that she had not seen such beauty since the dawn of her existence.
Resolutely she turned on her heel and led the shade back to her chariot where they would escape with all haste back to her dark kingdom, to the safety of a world without shining gods.
XXXXX
Katniss brought Mags to the gates of the Elysian fields, where she watched as the spirit melted into the Isles of the Blessed with the other worthy spirits of the afterlife. This special place was reserved for those who had been reincarnated three times, living virtuously each time. Katniss regretted her distemper towards Mags earlier and was extra gentle with her until she’d been released.
As Katniss turned away from the gates of paradise, she caught sight of Madge flying on her winged sandals, speeding above her, perhaps returning from escorting souls to the underworld or, most likely, from visiting with Gale, as was her habit when she ventured below.
Katniss smoothed out the folds of her chiton before wandering into her beloved pomegranate orchid and plucked the ripe fruit from the ancient trees. With a tap of her finger, the fruit split open, revealing seeds the color of blood. Katniss ate them, reveling in the incomparable flavor of their sweet juice and thought about the young man she’d seen earlier. Her chest palpitated with an expectation that was entirely new, provoking a strange desire to lose herself in a field of flowers beneath the warmth of her sister’s chariot.
Uncomfortable with these sudden fantasies of flowers and fields, she plunged into the business of rulership, consulting with the three judges when there was confusion over sentencing a shade, though the complications were normally too few to warrant close attention. She toured her kingdom, beginning with the seven rivers of Hades. She visited the river Styx, which circled the Underworld seven times, coiled like a serpent around her dominions. She walked the banks of Acheron, seeking out the silent Ferryman, Brutus, who stared out from beneath lidded eyes, made immune to the pain the river could inflict with a continuous supply of ambrosia and gold coins.
On Katniss’s side of the river was the actual entrance of her dominion, where the ferocious, three-headed creature she’d fondly named Buttercup stood guard. With mangy, orange-striped fur, glowing eyes the color of burning coal and a snarl that made shivers run up Katniss’s spine, it nonetheless whined whenever Prim threaded her fingers through its matted fur.
Katniss was careful not to touch the waters of the next river, Lethe, for it promised forgetfulness to all who drank from it. It encircled the Isles of the Blessed, where the truly virtuous like Mags achieved eternal rest. From the burning banks of Phlegethon, she was sure she could hear the rage of the Titans erupting from the near infinite depths of Tartarus, only to be drowned out by the even more chilling noise of Cocytus, the river of wailing. It was with some relief that she reached Oceanus, beyond which lay the permeable boundary between the living and the dead. Though she was in a place beyond earth, beyond its boiling center and unrelenting rock, when she commanded the earth to open, she could just make out her sister’s Sun Chariot casting its brilliant rays deep into the most obscure bowels of Hades.
She passed the Asphodel Fields, where most of the dead ended up. Having lived unremarkable lives, they watched Katniss with empty eyes as she passed, the oldest souls being the most impassive. How many times had they watched their mistress in her travels between the fields of Hades?
Katniss hurried past the Mourning Fields - where those with unrequited love ended. It was telling that there was a special place for this particular type of suffering, of all the myriad of suffering humans endured. She wondered what it was like - to love and ache so terribly that it was enough to define your existence for all of eternity. She could only imagine it, for she had never desired someone in such a way and would have scoffed at the idea of it altogether, were it not for the clear evidence of its power in the human and supernatural world.
Her mind betrayed her at that point and flew to the son of Demetros. Men like him could send countless women to the Mourning Fields. She still marveled in her memory at the extraordinary beauty of the young man - the way the very hairs on his head appeared alive with his life-giving energy, the large, sensuous build of his hands, veins and muscles undulating in the perfection of his form. Gods were always beautiful, with perhaps the exception of Wiress, who toiled in the merciless heat of her forge and had been cursed with deformities at her very creation. And yet even she possessed a power that captivated. She was not without her own aesthetic.
But Demetros’s son was another creature altogether. He was not brooding, like Gale. He did not have the accidental perfection of Finnick, Annie’s consort. Yet he possessed the kind of face that she could easily stare at for an eon.
Katniss shook herself of her silly thoughts and set out towards her palace - a place of austere beauty that she hoped would sooth her thoughts. But her restlessness continued for many days, her thoughts compulsively returning to the young man.
XXXXX
A strange and unknown desire began to grow in Katniss.
She had to see the young man again.
She avoided this desire at every turn, seeking some other relief from that impulse. Anything would do - she even rode her chariot to the Capitol itself to visit her sister, who had long taken up her place at the side of Paylor, the Goddess of Lightning.
The Capitol was everything the mortal world was not - opulent, radiant, and lavish in its comforts. It floated above the clouds, impervious to attack, by Paylor’s design, and all gods were invited to take residence there - a move that concentrated the power of the Earth and Air deities in the Capitol. But Katniss, like Annie, the third Goddess of the Great Triumvirate and Queen of the Sea, was not without her own power.
As she strode down the gilded halls, Katniss had the misfortune of encountering Haymitch, the God of Love, lounging in the dining hall.
“Haymitch,” she growled in greeting.
A slow smirk spread over his dark features. Though renowned for his virility and his facility with the amorous arts, he was also prone to bouts of profound laziness. He lay sprawled across a settee, appearing to be in a state of half sleep. A tray of fruit and a flagon of drink sat on a table beside him. “Katniss! You’ve left your cave and now do grace us with your invigorating company. Tell me, how do you spend all your time in such a dreary place?”
“It suits me fine,” she retorted.
“You do not give me enough to do, Goddess. Perhaps you would like to borrow Effie’s arrows and make your life more interesting,” he teased, waving a goblet of ambrosia as he spoke.
“My life is interesting enough.”
“Oh, come now, Goddess! A sturdy ‘shaft’ would be just the thing to rid you of your distemper!”
Katniss huffed at his vulgarity, scowling fiercely, but her indignation only stimulated his laughter even more.
“Where is my sister?” she said, gritting her teeth together before she was tempted to resort to violence to cure his humor.
Haymitch reclined, resting a hand over his forehead as if he’d been suddenly afflicted by a headache. “Of all the gods, she is the easiest to find. Or have your senses been dulled by your time in that dark realm?”
Katniss whirled on her heel and marched out of the chamber to the sound of Haymitch’s laughter pursuing her. It was a fine reminder of why she chose to stay as far away from the Capitol as possible.
XXXXX
She sought solace in her work and the management of her kingdom, spending time in the Hall of Judgement, listening to the more complex cases of lives lived at the border of virtue and infamy and examining the details with even more attention than necessary, all in an effort to distract herself from her obsession.
One day, however, when she thought something fundamental might break within her, she found herself inside the confines of her dark chariot, staring down the backs of her mighty steeds. She closed her eyes and envisioned the young man, searching the world for him until she discovered him in a meadow, in the company of two young men. Without further consideration, she took to the Overworld, breaking the confines of Oceanus, ordering the earth to part and penetrating the last dark clouds that blocked the light of her own sister’s chariot.
The meadow rose silently around her - covered in wildflowers of every color. As she set her horses under a copse, Katniss secretly admitted her love of the glorious, colorful blooms before her, the crisp smell of air under the newly risen sun filling her every sense. It would surprise gods and men alike to know how very much she admired the world above her kingdom, perhaps more than any other gods, for she had the eyes to see it anew each time she left the Underworld. She had seen fields in her life - Elysium had no rival in all the mortal and immortal realms. But this one reeked of authenticity - death vying for life among even the smallest blades of grass. Here life struggled, and won, each and every time, and despite her immortal office, this victory thrilled her.
She approached the young man, now wrestling in the tall grasses with two other youth of his stature and coloring - most likely, the other sons of Demetros. They were all fine youth - tall and strong, though the boy who held her interest was of a medium build with respect to his siblings. His face was less angular, perhaps because of his youth or in consequence of a gentler nature that revealed itself in the powerful but muted lines of his physique. He had a cleft chin, the perfect size for a fingertip to rest in. His eyes, now squeezed shut in concentration as he attempted to pin his brother, opened, revealing that unearthly color that had so captivated her the very first day.
She was undetectable as long as she willed it. Still, she held her breath, watching the boys, their skin increasingly slick with sweat and muscles bulging with exertion, until the young man managed to pin down the larger one while a third counted to three. They lept up, helping each other to their feet, the largest boy clapping the younger one on the back. She inched closer to hear their conversation.
“I want a rematch!” the tall boy said, guffawing as he wiped his brow.
“Not today. I’ll be needing my rest after such an arduous contest,” the blue-eyed one answered.
“Nonsense, Peeta!” the third boy exclaimed. “Our brother was hardly a worthy opponent!
“Insolent boy!” the oldest responded. It was Peeta’s turn to laugh as he watched the two boys tackle one another, both rolling in the most undignified way on the ground.
“When elephants fight, it is only the grass who suffers!” Peeta exclaimed between guffaws of laughter, provoking an involuntary smile from Katniss. Without her volition, she had inched closer and now watched the scene from only a few meters away. The two boys continued to grapple until sheer exhaustion caused them to collapse. They finally gathered their cast-aside clothing, and with good-natured satisfaction, walked together, chattering happily between them. Katniss was disappointed - she wanted more interaction, more reasons to smile at them. But they wandered away to a place she could not rightly follow, for they now entered the sacred woods of their father, and gods were impervious in their own palaces. Their departure left her suddenly empty and alone.
She returned to the glade they had only just played in, noting the crushed grass springing slowly back to life. In fact, each thing the boys had touched had not been bruised by the contact but invigorated, turning into a deeper shade of its original color, its fragrance becoming bolder and more vibrant in the air. It was the way of the earth gods to make life sing from their mere touch. She looked down at her gloved hand, thinking how different her power was, how it drained and chilled instead of quickening and reviving, and the idea of it saddened her.
XXXXX
She returned to that spot each day, not unlike a sunflower, following the perambulations of the sun. The one she heard named Peeta did not come each time - certainly, his father had chores for the young god that took him throughout his dominion. She discovered that this field was a preferred place for him, his brothers and the groups of forest sprites and spirits who gravitated toward them, seeking their own kind of diversion. And Katniss, after she had fulfilled her duties to her dark kingdom, spent hours watching the object of her interest. She followed him wherever she could - through the vales and hills of his father’s domain.
She learned much about Peeta through her spying. He was a curious soul, studying the creatures under his care with great interest, not unlike the way she studied him. He kept no company with other gods - she knew this was by Demetros’s decree, who wanted his sons to have nothing to do with Paylor and her heavenly lot. But he did frequent lesser spirits, and the nymphs and naiads of the forest knew his name.
There was so much more to the young man than his appearance. Katniss watched him accompany his father on his duties. They flew over mountains and rivers, surveying the world of the living in all its glory until they arrived in a small mountain village, cut off from the rest of Panem by a mountain range and the nearly unscalable granite walls. Mortals could arrive only by an obscure, winding road up the sloped side of the mountain.
Katniss settled a distance away to avoid discovery by Demetros and watched as Peeta, who followed his father on his survey of the natural world around the settlement, suddenly pulled away.
“Don’t you hear that?” Peeta asked, following a sound that Katniss herself had trouble hearing.
Demetros became visibly impatient with Peeta. “Humans call to us all the time. Come, we have other places to be---”
But Peeta paid his father no heed as he followed whatever had caught his attention. It soon became apparent that Peeta had heard a plea for his father’s intervention and chosen to follow it. The call for his assistance came from a small hut at the edge of the village, where a widow lived, surrounded by a gaggle of small children. She begged for the bounty of a garden that seemed to struggle in the harsh mountain environment. A small bird of offering was aflame, its smoke having carried her request on the winds and directly to Peeta.
When he arrived, he did not ask permission of his father but answered the supplication of the widow whose garden was so barren with a touch of his hand that guaranteed her bounty for years to come. Though the prayers had been for Demetros, her plea had moved Peeta and he responded with a compassion that was becoming increasingly rare with the gods in the Capitol.
“Are we not tasked to help those who call on us, father?” Peeta asked. Katniss did not miss the hard edge of his voice and neither did his father. Demetros face flared with barely-suppressed rage.
“I will not brook your insolence,” Demetros said in a low voice intended to cower the young man. Peeta, however, only gazed back at the older man, the silent contest between the two ending only when a wild boar burst through the underbrush, to the ecstatic joy of the widow who promptly chased it down. Demetros turned away without a word. As Peeta’s eyes followed him, a smirk of satisfaction lit up his handsome face.
These gestures of benevolence were repeated numerous times during her period of observation and it compelled Katniss to watch him even more. But together with this kindness, Peeta possessed something else, something indomitable that would not submit even before the will of his father. He was also the same young man who, in the meadow, was playful, even childish with his brothers, bringing a measure of humor and joy to Katniss’s heart, bereft as she was from such light-heartedness in her own kingdom.
In all his contradictions, he was everything that a deity of life and of the earth should be, and she began to grow very fond of him.
XXXXX
Some time afterwards, as Katniss emerged from the Hall of Judgement, Madge, the messenger of the gods and erstwhile escort of the dead, settled down before her. She was a tall girl with long, golden locks. Unfurled, her wings were nearly too long for her legs and were of the same color as her hair. They were attached to her ankles, so that as she stepped onto the ground, the wings folded in on themselves, curling around her calves as if they were part of the sandals she wore. Her face was flushed, her lips tender and swollen. Katniss chuckled as her friend fell into step next to her.
“You have the look of Death about you,” Katniss teased.
“There is no way to avoid it in this place,” Madge parried, smirking all the while.
“It or him, dear one?” Katniss continued.
Madge stretched in exaggeration, smoothing back her slightly tousled hair. “You know all my secrets. And I know yours.”
“I have no secrets. And the ones that I do have, everyone appears to know them before I do myself.”
“In this, you speak true. You pine,” Madge said.
“I do not!”
“Haymitch is never mistaken. On your last visit to Prim, he said you fairly reeked of longing. He is an expert, you know!”
Katniss pursed her lips, feeling the scowl overtaking her face. Madge laughed at the fierce look, which displeased Katniss even more.
“You would not be the first god to become infatuated. You act as if it is not possible for you.”
“I tire of this conversation,” Katniss retorted.
“But you do have a challenge,” Madge continued, as if Katniss had not spoken. “The young man’s father is powerful and uncommonly possessive. He will not part with his children under any circumstances.”
Katniss felt the color drain from her face but bit her lip to keep from exposing herself. “I do not know what you speak of.”
“Peeta! Demetros’s son. You visit the Earth God’s kingdom nearly each day to watch the young man.”
Katniss said nothing, her pale face now aflame. She felt the heat rising in waves over her skin.
“If you petition Paylor, she will grant him to you. You have already been promised a son of Demetros if you so choose to exercise your right of claim over him.”
Katniss groaned, remembering the promise made to her so long ago by Paylor, a reward after the battle and victory over the Titans. It was a promise she never expected to see exacted. “By force? It is not my way. I will not ‘claim’ anyone.”
Madge made an exasperated sound before her face slowly changed, a mischievous expression dancing on her fine features. “You do not deny your infatuation, then?”
“Leave me be,” Katniss said impatiently. “I am not one to become infatuated.”
“Then perhaps you...love Demetros’s son?”
Katniss froze in her steps, turning to her friend in barely repressed anger. “Do not trifle with me. And take this warning back to Haymitch, for I smell his interference in your words. I am Death to mortals. I have not yet tested myself against immortals, but I will not hesitate to begin with him.”
Madge’s eyes widened, then narrowed, a smile flitting hesitantly at the corner of her mouth. Madge was the only other person besides her sister with whom Katniss shared the greatest affinity but Katniss could be intimidating in her rage, even to those close to her. “He is only exercising the requirements of his office. He is, after all, responsible for all matters of the heart.”
Katniss struggled to calm her anger. “You are right. But I want no one interfering. Each and every time the Capitol becomes involved in the affairs of...anyone, it only results in disaster. Please make that clear to them. No interference of any kind.”
Madge nodded, more serious than before. “You are Paylor of the Underworld.”
Katniss tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “Or perhaps Paylor is Katniss of the Capitol.”
XXXXX
Madge’s conversation drove Katniss into reclusion, unwilling as she was to expose herself to the gods. However, her resolve was weak and soon, she tired of missing Peeta. She took extra pains when she finally set out to watch him, leaving her chariot and donning her invisibility helmet. She materialized in his preferred meadow when she was sure he would appear and soon observed his arrival, carrying an object she instantly recognized as an easel. It was larger than one any human could carry, but he set it down with ease. Next to it, Peeta placed a wooden box, within which were the accoutrements of his hobby - paint brushes, paint, strips of cloth and water.
Katniss let out a sigh at the sight of him, relief and euphoria warring within her. She watched him survey the landscape around him - large hands perched on his hips. He wore a short chiton that just barely hid his bottom and leather sandals laced to his knee. It was common enough attire in the Overworld, but on him, it appeared new and exotic. It no longer surprised Katniss to discover how very enticed she was by his appearance.
After some planning, he settled down to work. As his brush swept the canvas, Katniss crept ever closer, observing as the field and sky emerged from the blank expanse, a near perfect duplication of the reality before them. Except there was something added, an overlay of his very essence, not unlike the part of himself he left behind when he walked the fields or touched the plants and animals. The trees in the painting were as alive as the ones in the forest, the grasses moved as they did now, with the wind threading between them.
But the most extraordinary thing she observed was the sun, not as mortals saw it, but the way the she did, as all gods did. Not an indescript ball of yellows and oranges but a beautiful woman, riding triumphantly in her chariot, galloping across the sky. Nothing in a mortal’s pallet could approximate the vivacity, the pure radiance of the light her sister wore when she made her daily journey across the heavens.
Katniss stared overlong at the magic that unfolded, drawn like a moth to an incandescent flame. She did not realize how close she’d gotten to Peeta until her elbow brushed against his, causing him to freeze mid brush stroke.
He cast a glance around him, searching for the source of the interruption. Katniss, in her stead, did not trust herself to move even a hair, for fear he would discover her. He set the brush down, his face tightening in wariness.
“Show yourself,” he demanded.
Katniss stared at him unmoving, unable to tear her attention from the way the wind lifted his ashy-blond locks. She thrilled at the idea that he sought her, even if he did not know her identity.
He swept the air suddenly, his fingers brushing her shoulder. She could tear herself away, dissolve into the ground, transport herself to her chariot and race with silent fury down into the depths of her kingdom. But she became aware of another desire, one she had been nursing in her heart since the moment she saw him on the hillock, at the side of his father. She was a master of lurking among humans and immortals alike but what she really wanted was to be discovered. She longed to be found by him.
With an act of will, she shed her helmet of invisibility and allowed him to look at her.
Her sudden appearance forced him to take a step back, causing him to nearly collide with his easel. But it was the effect of only a moment, and he recovered quickly. He took her in completely, from head to toe, and she tolerated his appraisal of her, allowing his eyes to roam over her face, her body, even her scepter. His scrutiny made her blood quicken and it was all she could do to not pant noisily before him.
“Goddess,” he said finally.
“Not Goddess,” she said, steadying her voice. “Katniss. And I’ve been watching you.”
End Act I
A million thanks to my betas and support. To @eala-musings, who is always ready to help read what I write and do her very best to fix the messes I make. To the incredible @katnissdoesnotfollowback, who remembered when I toyed with the idea of this fic almost 2 years ago. She lent her significant betaing ability to the editing of this story and, in particular, the nuances and details relating to Greek Mythology as well as helping me keep track of the genderbending taking place in this story.
I have to also thank my best friend and banner-maker, @akai-echo, who is my creative partner in crime. She manages to visualize what I write and turn it into gorgeous banners that are brilliantly made.
Note about mythology:
My interpretation of the Persephone/Hades myth that sees her complicit in her abduction. This is obviously not the myth everyone knows but it is actually one version of a myth that exists in some form or another throughout every culture. I was heavily influenced by the poem, “Persephone the Wanderer” by Louisa Glück, found in her collection, Averno.
To cast this story, I had to try to match innate qualities of THG characters with roles they would be most associated with. In some cases, I had to fudge things. Therefore, Prim, as Apollo, would also exercise the aspect of healing, Madge as Hermes, is not only the messenger of the gods, but also serves as escort to the spirits of the dead. The most glaring “miscast” is Gale as Thanatos and not as Artemis but had I gone that route, I would have lost my Gadge and I do love Gadge so very much! Plus, I love putting Thresh in strong roles wherever I can and he fits my idea of a male Artemis very much :).
Music inspiration is various. I'm a huge fan of covers and have recently discovered Chase Holfelder. I love his rendition of Every Breath You Take and I Want You to Want Me.
I’ve given a good listen to Taylor Swift’s and Zane’s I Don’t Wanna Live Forever, Rihanna’s Skin and a throwback to the 90’s with Avril Lavigne’s When You’re Gone.
Act II posting soon.
#march madness#march 2017#mm2017#dandelion in darkness#titaniasfics#love in panem#lip#everlark#thg fanfiction#everlark fanfiction#LIP drabbles
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REPOST ; DON’T REBLOG.
BOLD any which apply to your muse! Feel free to add to the list!
WHAT ARE YOUR MUSE’S AESTHETICS?
[ COLOURS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. violet. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. bubblegum pink. sky blue. pale jade.
[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. stone.
[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. neck. shoulders. legs. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. fingernails. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. athletic. hair. fur.
[ WEAPONS ] fists. legs. sword. dagger. spear. bow & arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. claws. teeth. stealth. strategy.
[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. copper. platinum. titanium. rose gold. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. chiffon cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. ribbon.
[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. sunflowers. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. fungi. ocean. river. frozen lake. meadow. valley. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. snow. mist. pond.
[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. foxes. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. penguins. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. snakes.
[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. vodka. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. ambrosia. eggs. milk.
[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. baking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. war tactics. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. strings. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. flute. bells. exploring. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. sleeping. climbing. running. jogging. parkour. studying.
[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. ankle boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewellery. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. beanie hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. mittens. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sun glasses. straw hat. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ribbons. hoodie. sweater. converses. tennis shoes. boxers. briefs. boxer briefs. shorts. cargo. cropped pants. crop top. cuffed pants.
[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. growth. decay. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. journal. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. clan. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. kisses. spring. summer. autumn. winter. farmland. countryside. suburban. village.
tagged by: stole from one of my other blogs lmao tagging: @effulgcntt for mary!! and anyone else who’d like to!
#; you've got enough brass for all of us ( about. )#; 'tween pavement and stars is a chimney sweep's world ( aesthetic. )#( i felt a Need for aesthetic memes )
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chapter 20: Ego
AN/ i hope you guys are staying safe through this covid-19. In other news I have been having issues with my job and have been seeking employment elsewhere. I tried to make it work with my new boss. But it's rather tiresome to put up with the petty nonsense I have been dealing with. In a job I have been doing for the better part of five years. (with no real complaints until now in the last four months.) it's a long story i don’t want to get into. It puts me in a rather bad mood, not conducive to writing. So I made the decision to get a new job with more hours and better pay as well. Along with more time to write.
I would also like to thank my patrons over on Patreon. If you desire to get the early access to my work (and smut when i do write it) then donate if you are feeling generous. And follow me on twitter for any updates.
don't forget to check me out on twitter at https://twitter.com/setsunatama3 for any announcements from now on.
notice i also post on wattpad at :https://www.wattpad.com/773701195-the-maelstrom-of-remnant-chapter-one-exile
arcive of our own at https://archiveofourown.org/works/20596958?view_full_work=true
deviant art at: https://www.deviantart.com/setsunatama3/gallery
fanfiction.net at: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13280840/1/the-Maelstrom-of-remnant
tumblr at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/setsunatama3
ficwad at https://ficwad.com/story/279918
Chapter 20: Ego
Thinking back on the moments just before roman aimed his weapon at the other containers of dust. Sarada knew she had acted on the impulse to save her friends. It was a knee jerk reaction. One moment she was fighting a pair of Faunus rookies, one a scorpion, the other a snake. The next, she dropped her guard at that moment. The need to protect her comrades overcoming her sense of self-preservation.
One eye bleeds to red and morphed into the kaleidoscopic blossom of the eternal Mangekyō Sharingan. The other morphed into an ever vivid purple with concentric rings and nine tomo, the Rinnegan. With this, the rush of her real power flowed through her veins. She saw and felt the locations of her friends. Even as a fiery pain exploded from her abdomen and chest. And her arms felt heavy. They focused her will on this one goal.
Using the control granted to her by the mastery over the Byakugō no In. Sarada pulled her friends to herself as she blasted the two she was fighting against away from herself in the same motion. Using a Banshō Ten’in in concert with a Shinra Tensei. Throwing the two Fang members away just as they delivered the most grievous of blows to her. As the scorpion had stung her with his tail as he impaled her on his sword. Just as the snake ran her through with his knife, he had bitten deep into her neck. The resulting forces acting on them ripped them from her flesh.
Forcing herself, ignoring the pain, Sarada pushed even more power into her eyes. Summoning her mighty avatar, the grand and ever-powerful Susanoo.
As the blast washes over her avatar. Sarada struggles to maintain focus due to her injuries. As a result, the avatar of power flickers out of existence moments after the blast.
Blood trailing from both eyes because of the lack of use of the avatar. Sarada collapses moments later, her wounds not healing like they should. She knows there is something wrong right away.
With a groan of “, is everyone all right?” from Yang propping herself up with one arm. While looking around to see the carnage brought upon the docks.
The blast had ripped through the docks. Making a perfect distraction for the white fang to escape. Off in the distance, she could see the airships fleeing the scene.
“Hugh, oh god Sarada!” Vella cried.
Yang and the others turn at her frightened scream of shock.
Panting heavily as her lungs filled with blood, Sarada was just glad they had realized something was wrong. As she channeled her chakra into releasing the Byakugō no In on her forehead. Using the stored chakra to use one of the signature Jutsu Tsunade. One passed from teacher to student As a mark of mastery. The Ninpō Sōzō Saisei — Byakugō no Jutsu as the markings appeared on her skin and her wounds regenerated rapidly.
Sarada’s focus was directed to the teary-eyed Vella, who was gripping her hand.
“Don’t worry, e-everything will be all right.” her partner cried, desperately trying to comfort the girl.
Hacking and coughing up a large amount of blood, Sarada struggled to speak.
“Weeesse... hack... gasp…”
Sarada grimaced as she withdrew the swords from her body. Coughing out more blood as the wounds closed and gasping in relief at fresh lungfuls of air. It was a disturbing tableau. She did not even hesitate to force her hand into her side, just below her ribs. To manually draining her chest cavity of blood. Channeling wind chakra. Aiding in the cutting of flesh. The only sign that it actually hurt was a small grunt of pain and the pinched expression she wore. As she allowed the blood to flow until the internal bleeding ceased. Easing her breathing as she removed her hand.
The act was so casually done that the others let out a grimace at sight. It was telling that for Sarada that this was not uncommon for her.
As soon as the wounds hissed and emit steam as they closed slower than average. Shock and disbelief turned to awe and wonder. And within moments, her injuries sealed themselves shut. And her body once racked with tremors stilled. As her breaths returned to her. As her Byakugō no In receded back to its diamond-like form.
It was not long before the telltale wails of the V.P.D sirens reached them. And like always, too late to do anything other than cleanup.
As the bullheads landed and professor port stepped out along with deputy headmistress Goodwitch. Drawing the teen’s attention.
“It’s rather fortunate that none of you were hurt. And thanks to you, we now know just who was stealing dust.” Glynda said as she watched the police round up the remaining white fang who had not escaped.
Slapping her riding crop in her hand, Glynda turned to the students in question. “however, while you are not in trouble for the actions taken tonight. I expect a detailed after-action report by tomorrow evening. Now get on the bullhead. It’s time to go.”
As they loaded onto the bullhead, Sarada lamented the fact that the only things accomplished tonight was the fact that they now know about the discovery of shinobi bearing the Uzumaki crest were in remnant and her ruined clothes.
]|[
In a flash of light, Naruto made it back to the room in the occupied Safehouse. When the once closed wounds burst open once more. Naruto bit back a curse as pain flared up in his arm once more. The door to his room was kicked in by Emerald. Pointing her guns in his direction.
Eyes widening in disbelief, Emerald took in Kitsune’s battered and bloodied form. As she let out a gasp of surprise as she lowered her weapons.
As Kitsune strode forwards without a word now that the girl had lowered her guns. Grabbing a scroll near the door, he opened it on the bed. As she watched him in fascination as he unsealed the scroll and withdrew a slip of paper from it.
It was such an odd sight that Emerald could not help but voice her curiosity. “Um, what are you doing? And is there anything I can do to help?”
The questions caught him off guard, and he paused midway in his application of the seal. Thinking about how he would answer this.
The silence was one that only lasted for a moment. Before Naruto answered in the negative.
“No, I don’t need any help. This seal will take care of my biggest problem and siphon off the corrosive aura in my wounds.” Naruto said with a shake of his head. And applying the seal to his arm.
The moment Naruto applied the seal to his arm, it hissed with steam. As his wounds rapidly closed. It was rather lackluster for Emerald. She had thought there would have been more to the show than what she saw.
Naruto flexed his arm, making sure that everything was working correctly. Nodding his head, he stood and walked to his shower. Almost forgetting the girl in his room.
Turning to her with a grin hidden under his mask. Naruto said as he stripped, “you know unless you want a free show, leave.”
Emerald blinked at his non sequitur. Flushing red, she quickly turned and left. A reaction that caused him a bit of joy as he tapped the seal on the door, locking it. He then took off his mask and armor, sighing at his ruined flack jacket. He then headed to his shower. With the events of tonight on his mind.
It was an amusing sight for cinder to see Emerald come rushing out of the only other room bedroom in the Safehouse. Her face tinted red. Running past the kitchen where she sat nursing a cup of coffee. It meant only one of two people had returned. And she needed to have a conversation with Kitsune. It was better not to put this off.
With that in mind, Cinder made her way to his room.
In her attempt to open said door, she found that it was locked. Casting it off for the minor inconvenience it was. She attempted to pick the lock. Only for that to fail moments later when she felt the telltale pins of the simple lock click into place. Yet the door remained locked. When she attempted to unlock the door, it stubbornly remained closed. Even using brute force and trying to kick down, the door failed.
Out of options, Cinder waited by the door, sorely tempted to burn a hole in the wall. The only thing staying her hand from this action was the fact that Kitsune was her current benefactor.
It had only been ten minutes that she had been waiting when the man she was looking for stepped out of the room.
Now dressed in a pair of black pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Along with his ever-present ANBU mask clipped to the side of his belt. While wearing a halve mask covering most of his lower face. Presenting cinder with a view of his eyes. Now dyed a vivid purple flecked with the barest hints of blue and red. If one were to look closely.
Naruto quirked an eyebrow at her presence. As she flushed in embarrassment, having been caught staring. Now giving him a glare that would threaten to anyone else but him.
Cinder let out a Huff of exasperation before growling out, “we need to talk.”
“Ok, lead the way.”
Cinder turned and led him into the kitchen, all without saying another word.
Naruto sat down, still maintaining his ever-present grin. While waiting for cinder to begin this conversation . And if, on queue, it hadn’t been over five minutes before she gave in to her anger.
“I would like to state that I won’t give up my maiden powers.” Cinder almost hissed at Kitsune.
It was a statement that had almost caused Naruto to laugh in disbelief. It was as if she thought she had a choice in this matter. Before the air of congeniality. He had about him faded and was replaced by an air of finality in this matter.
“No, I am afraid it is you who does not understand your situation. There are only two options for you at this moment.” Naruto said, letting the silence and his serious tone tell her just how bad things will get.
“The first choice you have is that you give up the stolen portion of the fall maiden powers. And save your own life. The other is you die when those incomplete powers you have tear you apart.” Naruto explained, trying to impart just how bad things will get for her.
Out of frustration or anger, Naruto did not know, but when cinder had heard this bit of news. She let a growl of anger rumble from her chest. As she slammed a fist into the table. As she hissed out.
“No!”
With that action, the tight leash the girl had on the powers that were slowly killing her. Slipped and her eyes glowed with power and killing intent.
Undaunted by this display of anger and the paltry amount of intent, he could feel Naruto felt that he should remind her just who she was speaking to.
His eyes flashed red, and for a moment, cinder felt like she was dying. Drowning under the vast weight of Naruto’s killing intent. As her life flashed before her eyes.
And just like it was never there, the visions of death and despair, unending pain, and suffering, oh so much suffering. Just disappeared. And cinder slumped back into her seat, hunched over, gasping for breath. And shivering and rubbing her arms, curling up in on herself for warmth like she was freezing.
Naruto knew that this conversation would go nowhere now that tempers were raised. And while thinking of how to proceed so he could save her life. Kurama interrupted his train of thought.
“Oi, brat, you know what the girl really wants.”
“Yeah, I know she wants power, Kurama. And the only way to open her eyes. To just what is going on is to give her what she wants.”
Now that he was looking at her, Naruto noticed just how odd it was that a girl like Cinder would be involved with Ozpin’s enemies.
“Naruto, let me talk to her. I have an idea.”
“What! No, that’s definitely not an option Kurama.”
“Brat!!! You can let me talk to her, or I’ll make all your ramen taste like cardboard.” Kurama threatened his partner.
“... you wouldn’t dare.” Naruto hissed.
With a smug grin, Kurama knew he only needed to give a little push, and this would be his victory. “Try me…”
With an audible sigh and a grumble of “stupid bastard fox.” the air in the room shifted as Naruto let Kurama take control.
It was something that did not go unnoticed by cinder as she stared across the table at now slit red eyes.
“Ah, so you noticed, did you,” Kurama started with a wide grin. He was about to continue when he felt something off. And he paused as he was staring into her eyes. Kurama noticed something off about cinder.
Within the depths of the seal, Naruto and Kurama conversed.
“Oi, brat, you feel that.”
“Yea, I do, Kurama.”
The two worked together channeling chakra bursting into a vibrant display of flame-like clothing. And six orbs of obsidian. Naruto’s eyes taking on the telltale ripple pattern of the Rinnegan but not turning purple. Kurama was still in the driver’s seat.
Their collective eyes widened as they stared at the half fall maiden. What they had felt was not the maiden powers within the girl. But a magic of all of her own. No, not magic, Kurama corrected himself. It was magic, yet not. While it was tightly bound and suppressed, it was still there. And they were the very reason the maiden powers were rejecting her.
“Hahahaha, so this explains so much!” Kurama exclaimed as he cackled with glee.
It changed the plan a bit, and Kurama wanted to put forth an offer. “Girl, I have a deal for you.”
When Kitsune’s eyes had changed and taken on that odd pattern, she felt it. In the back of her mind. The sensation that she was only an ant to the being before her. So when he addressed her for the second time in that deep guttural voice, cinder opted to pay attention to his words.
“Y-yes.” the half maiden timidly asked.
As the cloak sputtered out of existence, Kurama brought forth his proposal. “Give up that paltry amount of power and abandon whatever goal you have against Beacon. And for that, we will grant you power beyond your current comprehension.”
When Kurama mentioned Beacon, cinder found courage in her anger once more. “No! I want my revenge. Ozpin must pay. He needs to suffer.”
Kurama ran a hand through his fur within the seal as he took in her words. As he and Naruto conversed internally about this new revelation.
“Kid, she at the very least believes that she is in the right on this. And to do it, she wants the beacon to fall.”
“Yea, Kurama, I felt it as well; she’s not lying. However, I know this is a step we need to take.”
“Agreed.”
With the path set, Kurama relayed their intentions. With an audible sigh, he spoke. “Cinder, we have chosen to give you the power you seek for the maiden power. However, when you are ready, we need to discuss just why it fixates you, this obsession you have with Ozpin and beacon.”
She had given them a tentative nod; What choice did she really have? It was give up her half of the maiden powers or die. And for a survivor like Cinder, it wasn’t much of a choice at all.
“Ok, I-I Can work with that.” Cinder agreed.
“Come with me.” Naruto replied.
Standing up, she followed Naruto out of the kitchen and down the hall to a door that strangely she had never noticed.
Upon opening the door, she walked into a large room. One that was larger than it should be. The walls were made up of panels of a stark white stone.
As she watched Kitsune walk to the center of the room and make odd hand signs, the room lit up with a seal script, and a separate chamber and door appeared off to her left as the panels shifted. Directly in the center of the room, three shelves arose from the ground to his left, right, and one to his rear. A slate just more prominent than a rose before him.
“You should go into the room over there bathe, and when you come back here, leave your clothes and any jewelry in the room.” Naruto explained as he gathered his supplies. And walked around the raised slab.
With a blush, Cinder quickly headed for the door. Once inside, she immediately took off her dress and underwear. And hopped into the rather large bathtub without a second thought.
Once, she had focused on cleansing herself. Cinder had calmed down and focused on the simple task before her. It helped her put things into perspective.
Yet this ended all too soon. With her ablutions finished, Cinder quickly dried off and noted the silk robe that was where her clothes once were. And regarding it for the act of kindness, it was she wrapped herself in the gown. And stepped out into the white room.
She noted the complex script on the small dais. Amazed at how fast Kitsune must have worked to accomplish this in the mere fifteen or so minutes, she was in the other room.
Naruto took notice of Cinder the moment she had entered the room. For Naruto, it was a rather odd sight to see the confident woman he had met reduced to this shell of what she was when they had first met.
“The first thing we will do is remove the maiden power. I don’t expect any complications from that.” Naruto informed her.
“So, if you will take a seat on the table.”
Cinder nodded to Kitsune’s instructions, and in one swift motion, she let the robe pool onto the floor and sat down on the dais.
Naruto walked around to the front of the table. As he did so, his eyes gained the concentric rings of the Rinnegan.
Cinder had closed her eyes as Kitsune placed his hands on her shoulders and activated the power of the Preta Path. As he did so, a bond of sorts formed between himself and cinder.
]|[
Drip... drip... drip.
It was to the odd sound of water that Cinder heard. As she opened her eyes to what looked like a massive sewer.
It was strange, but something told her to head deeper into the depths of the dark sewer. Left with no other choice but to proceed. She began the walk forwards in almost a daze.
It was not long before she came upon a set of massive gates. Left wide open.
Cautiously, she stepped into the darkness of the gate. And into a massive forest that stretched on as far as the eye could see.
A power like Cinder had never felt before. Was pulling her in the center's direction of the forest. From what she could feel from the mountain path leading up to a set of torii gates. That she had just exited from.
So like before, she started her trek down the mountain. She only hoped that the journey was faster. And as if the word answered her wish, suddenly she was in the center of the forest just before the base of a shrine with the same torii gates Nine in total.
As Cinder entered the courtyard of the shrine. She came before the man who was aiding her in her time of need. The infamous Kitsune unmasked. Meditating with a small fox in his lap.
As Cinder took in his appearance. She felt the fluctuation in power. And when Kitsune opened his eyes, she stared face to face with cerulean orbs rather than purple or red.
Naruto quirked a brow in puzzlement. As he wondered whether or not she was naked. “How odd.” he voiced aloud.
“Just what is odd, I assume you are the one who brought me here.”
“No, I did not.” Naruto denied, “you came here of your own accord. You could have turned back.” The sage explained.
Leaving just what that implies up to Cinder herself.
“However, I am curious why are you naked.” he inquired as he gazed at her naked form with an ever-widening grin. “This is a mindscape, and since we share a bond, you have a small bit of control here. Even if it is my mindscape.”
Flushing with embarrassment, Cinder wished she had something that would cover her form. Within moments of that fervent desire, it clad her in a simple white summer dress.
With a grin, Naruto snarked, “there, see that’s not so hard.”
Cinder just scowled at him for his candor. Despite knowing that if this is what he was like regularly. Cinder preferred it to what she had thought was his typical cold, off-putting personality.
It was only after Cinder had calmed down that she noticed his most prominent trait. Three whisker marks on each cheek. “So you’re a Faunus. It would explain why you call yourself Kitsune.”
With a laugh, Naruto shook his head.” no, I am not a Faunus. These are just birthmarks.
“So just what are we doing here, anyway?” cinder asked.
Naruto rubbed his head and grimaced briefly. “Ah, that well to put it simply, you are resisting the removal of the maiden power. Or rather, some part of you is clutching on to the belief that you need it. And just ripping it away from you when it’s unstable and in your weakened state is bad. So we will solve the mystery of why you need this power.”
Crossing her arms, Cinder let out a huff of irritation. “So, just how do we do that?”
“Why that’s an easy one, Cinder. We look at your life, and we have to start from the beginning.”
Upon his words, her anger flared. As Cinder thought to herself. “How dare he, this insufferable man dares to tread upon my past…”
As she scowled rapidly, thinking of a way to get out of this. At least until it occurred to her that to do this, Kitsune obviously needed her consent. It gave her an angle to work with.
Sitting down next to him, looking as petulant as a child. Cinder worked her angle. “Fine, but I get to see your memories too.”
Naruto nodded, knowing that if that’s what it took to save the stubborn girl, then it would be fine.
“Ok, then if that’s what it takes, then I’ll start my name is Naruto Uzumaki I Am a Shinobi, and this is my story…”
With those words, the world around them faded to black...
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