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fitzs-trained-monkey · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter One: Lonely Together

Jack Kline x OC

Rated: PG

~I might hate myself tomorrow

But I'm on my way tonight

Let's be lonely together

A little less lonely together~

Sent: 10:52 PM

Merry Christmas, stranger. I hope yours is as bright as new fallen snow. Stay warm.

I smiled down at my phone before clicking it off and slipping it into my pocket. I didn't know who I had sent the message to. It was just a number I had punched in at random. I didn't expect anyone to reply.

Wrapping my dark green cardigan tighter around my body, I pulled my knees in closer to my chest and pressed myself closer against the wall of the bakery. The wall was only slightly warmer than the frigid air around me. It was December 2nd and icy gales were blowing in from Lake Superior and stinging the skin of the city's occupants.

The sky hung dark, low, and flat over Copper Harbor, Michigan. Copper Harbor was an itty-bitty town at the northern most tip of the northernmost part of Michigan. You know that piece of land that's only connected to the mainland by a highway, that in-between place that really should be Canada, but isn't? That's where Copper Harbor is and that's where I was.

Copper Harbor was the sort of town where newcomers and visitors are as common as flying pigs and are treated with about as much scrutiny. It's not one of those small, friendly towns just off the highway; the ones that are pleasant to find yourself in if you've taken a wrong turn. It's quite the feat to get lost and turn up in Copper Harbor, considering its miles away from anything and everything remotely interesting, unless you're searching for Bigfoot or a drunk Canadian that took a wrong turn. Though those two things might just end up being one and the same. No, nobody came to Copper Harbor unless they had a reason. That's just the sort of place it was. And aside from the mind-numbing cold, it was exactly the sort of place I wanted to be.

The clouds were so heavy with the snow that now drifted down, dusting everything in a layer of fine white powder, it seemed that someone standing on even the lowest rooftop could reach up and touch them. The snowflakes raining down from those clouds gave the appearance of tiny shooting stars. Many would have found the sight beautiful. I didn't. I just found it cold and somewhat depressing. Some people say that shooting stars are angels, falling to the earth to bless the lives of people in need. I've never liked those sorts of stories. The stars belong in the heavens. The dust belongs on the earth. Collecting in puddles, the sparkling, sugar-like ice crystals did nothing to ease the bitter cold. I shivered and coughed, my breath fogging in front of me.

I should have frozen to death hours ago.

But I can't die. At least, not that way.

Suffering, on the other hand, I can do that to no end.

I put my head between my knees, hoping to retain what little heat my walking corpse had to offer. I struggled to remain conscious. The story of the little-match-girl was playing in my head. I'd never liked that story's ending. Hallucinations really weren't my thing, especially hallucinations about things I tried not to think about, the things I tried to burry in the farthest corners of my mind. I had to distract myself, to think about anything that would keep me awake. The problem was, there was nothing to distract me.

Pling!

My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text. I grasped it quickly, greedy for a distraction, but I paused upon seeing the number displayed upon the screen. It was that number I had texted the Merry Christmas message to. Whoever it was had texted me back. I unlocked my phone and peered at the mystery person's message.

Received: 11:18 PM

Merry Christmas to you as well!

The message read. I smiled a little, surprised that anyone would care to return my quiet Christmas wish. The screen of my phone lit up with another message.

Received: 11:19 PM

Who are you?

The question was a simple one. Though tone can often be difficult to infer over written text, the question seemed to bear no hostility, only innocent curiosity. I thought for a bit about what to say, the answer was not as simple as the question had implied.

***

Located quite literally one thousand miles away from Copper Harbor, was the small, out-of-the-way town of Lebanon, Kansas. Now, in the outskirts Lebanon there was a hill. The hill was modestly sized and carpeted with thick grass painted with a layer of frost. Although it was a rather pleasant sight for some stray hiker to find, the hill was really quite unremarkable. That is, if you ignored the hulking steel door built into the side of it that looked like the entrance to a post-apocalyptic hobbit hole. See, built under that hill there was a bunker. It looked like any ordinary bunker if one can ever describe a bunker as ordinary. But inside this ordinary looking bunker, sat something rather extraordinary and his name was Jack.

Jack Kline was quite happy where he was. Sitting with his legs crossed on a chair beside the bunker's fireplace, Jack held Sam's beloved lap-top between his knees. Sam let him borrow it on the nights he couldn't sleep. Those nights were many. Sleepless nights were one of the many side effects of being half-angel, but he didn't really mind. Jack wasn't overly fond of sleep, not like Sam or Dean who adored the few hours they got. Jack would much rather be awake because if he was asleep then he couldn't observe. He liked to observe. He loved learning. He loved taking in anything and everything going on around him, soaking it all up like a sponge with legs. He especially loved to soak up a story. Epic ones with heroes that defeat powerful villains. Jack loved stories.

So, no; Jack Kline was not overly fond of sleep. No, Jack preferred to just sit quietly and watch those epic stories as they played out in front of him on the screen of Sam's lap-top.

Currently, he was watching Star Wars: The Clone Wars. The computer had said he would like it, and the computer had been right. He had just finished season 2 and had begun on season 3. Some small voice in the back of his mind told him he should slow down and draw the series out a little longer, but Jack just couldn't find the will to do so. This story was just too good to stop. Jack shoved a hand full of popcorn in his mouth as he pressed the play button on the next episode. He had managed to sneak several bags of popcorn from the kitchen and into the secret stash in his room a few nights earlier. It was perfect, except popcorn needed to be popped and popping the kernels without attracting notice was a bit of a challenge. But he found that if he popped them during the day, when everyone was clamoring about and busy with whatever, the noise from the popping kernels wouldn't peak any suspicion. The only downside to his strategy was that it left him with cold popcorn. Though this too could be remedied via his angel powers, if he was careful about it, he could warm up the popcorn undetected.

Now, don't get the impression that Jack was being starved, or held in this bunker against his will, or something awful like that. As was mentioned before, Jack was very happy there. The Winchesters, Sam and Dean, and the angel Castiel, lived there with him and took care of him. They were his family and Jack loved them. The only reason he had a secret stash at all was because Sam was the only one in the bunker who cared about the importance of having a somewhat healthy diet. Whereas Dean let the boy eat pretty much anything he wanted and Cas- well in Cas's mind food was food and that's all there was to it. But Sam didn't like it when he caught Jack eating what he referred to as 'junk food'.

Somehow, Sam always caught him.

"That stuff’ll rot your teeth, Jack!" He'd sigh, as he'd flip on the kitchen light and catch Jack eating cereal sometime around midnight. Then he'd look at Jack with a disappointed look on his face until Jack threw the cereal away and went back to bed. Jack hated it when Sam looked at him like that, he just couldn't bear to let the Winchesters down.

But Jack loved to eat. Eating was enjoyable as it brought with it something new every time. Yet more things to absorb and to experience. Although the younger Winchester disapproved of the more sugary foods; Jack liked those a whole lot more than the salads Sam tried to get him to eat. Jack didn't like the salads or 'Rabbit Food' as Dean called it. No, Jack liked popcorn a quite a bit more.

He smiled as he brought another handful into his mouth. Yes, Jack Kline quite enjoyed eating.

Plip! Ploop!

Jack's head swiveled away from the screen to stare at the phone laying face-up on the arm rest of the chair in which he sat. The screen was alight with a text message. He picked up the phone and unlocked it. The message read:

Received: 10:52 PM

Merry Christmas, stranger. I hope yours is as bright as new fallen snow. Stay warm.

That was all. Jack was quite confused; he didn't know that number. Who had sent the text? What should he do? Should he say something back?

Curiosity and caution struggled in a match tug-of-war in his head. He wanted to know who the message had come from. He wanted to know why that person had sent it. He also wanted to know why he had a strange feeling that whoever had sent the message was horribly sad. But would the Winchesters be mad at him if he answered? Sam and Dean had given him the phone just a few days earlier.

"For emergencies," Sam had said as he laid the device in Jack's hand before resuming his packing. Jack had stared at it, rather confused as to its purpose. Castiel had been off somewhere doing something and Sam and Dean had been leaving for a hunt, leaving him alone which Dean was completely and utterly against.

"Only for emergencies," Dean had stressed, jabbing his finger in Jack's general direction as he inspected various articles of clothing before tossing them into a duffle bag. "That means don't text or call unless someone is breaking in or you're dying!"

Sam shot his older brother a warning look. Dean ignored it and pulled a pair of socks out of his dresser, sniffing them briefly before making a face and chucking them to the other side of the room. Jack looked back down at the small black rectangle in his palm.

"Okay so, only text or call in case there's an emergency. Got it." Jack clinched the thin black box between his thumb and forefinger, carefully lifting it up as if it might explode in his face. "But, one question, if something happens like-like you said, like somebody breaking in or me dying, how-how would I do that?" He asked, looking back at the two brothers. They both froze their hasty packing and pivoted to stare at him, their eyebrows raised with disbelieving question.

"What?" Dean asked the young Nephilim. Jack shrank away a little, not wanting to upset the older Winchester.

"How do I text or call you? I don't know how to do that," Jack had timidly replied. Dean just shook his head and returned to over-stuffing the duffle. Sam, however, was much more understanding.

"That's right, you-you don't, do you?" Sam asked, realizing his mistake. Jack turned his attention to the younger of the brothers, shaking his head in an answer to Sam's question.

"Unbelievable," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. Sam shot him another glare which Dean merely shrugged off.

"Well, come on then, I'll teach you," Sam had said. Jack watched as Sam set the contacts and explained how everything worked. He showed Jack how to send a text, how to dial and answer a call, and all the other things Jack would need to know. Jack just watched him and took note of every little thing. Watching and replicating was how Jack learned best.

"Now, if I don't answer my phone, you call Dean. But if he doesn't pick up, I want you to call me again, if I still don't answer a second time, I want you to call this number right here. That's Jody Mills, she's a friend of ours and she'll help you, alright? You get all that?" Sam finished explaining and looked for Jack to confirm his understanding. Jack nodded.

"I got it!" He said, enthusiastically. Sam gave the young boy a nervous smile.

"You do? Can you repeat it back to me?" Sam asked Jack the question the same way Sam and Dean's father had always asked them.

"If something happens, call you, and if you don't answer, call Dean. If Dean doesn't answer then I call you again, but if you still don't pick up, then call Jody Mills." Jack repeated all of Sam's instructions perfectly, grinning proudly at the younger Winchester when he finished. Sam laughed a little, but nerves twinged his voice.

"Good, yeah. Okay," Sam paused, thinking things over, "You know what, Jack? If neither of us answer your call and it's really that urgent, don't bother calling me a second time. Just call Jody right away if you can't get through to either of us. Alright?"

"Alright!" Jack nodded, grinning. Sam nodded back, stiffly.

"Alright." He seemed like he wanted to say something else but didn't know how to say it.

"You two done in there, Sammy?! We gotta go!" Dean called, walking in from another room. Sam stood and looked at his brother.

"Uh, yeah. I think we're good," He took a few steps towards the stairs that lead up to the door before pausing and turning back to Jack, "We're good, right? You're gonna be okay here by yourself?" Sam asked again. Jack grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

"I'll be fine. You don't have to worry."

Sam nodded and smiled with so much nervousness it almost hurt to watch.

"Okay, good. It's good. We're good," He said, nodding and trying to reassure himself more than anyone else. Dean raised an eyebrow at his overly anxious little brother, tugging his old leather jacket on over his shoulders, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he directed his remarks at Jack.

"Hey, kid. Whatever you do, don't do anything stupid," He'd said, half glaring, "We'll be back in a few days." Then they'd left.

Now, Jack glanced back down at the phone in his hands, remembering Dean's warning about not doing anything stupid. But his curiosity regarding the sender of the message was overwhelming. It couldn't hurt to text this person back, right? Was that what Dean had meant by his warning? Did this count as something stupid? What was the worst that could happen? Deciding that the benefits outweighed the risks, he texted back.

Sent: 10:18 PM

Merry Christmas to you as well!

Jack wrote.

Sent: 10:19 PM

Who are you?

No sooner had asked his question, he began to worry that he might have sounded rude. He waited with anticipation for the mystery person to reply. He didn't have to wait long.

Received: 10:20 PM

It doesn't matter, you don't know me.

I'm just someone wanting to give you a warm holiday wish.

Jack frowned. Again, he got the distinct feeling that the person on the other side of this conversation was deeply saddened by something. He desperately wanted to know what. So, he did the thing he did best. He asked and waited to see what would happen.

***

Received: 11:21 PM

If you don't know me, why do you care?

I don't mean to be rude. I'm just curious.

Why do this?

I read the person's question once, then twice, then three times and I realized that I didn't have an answer. Why did I care? Why was I texting some random person a Christmas wish? For all I knew, this person may not even observe the holiday. I had so many of my own things to worry about I was nearly drowning in them. I didn't know this person. I had nothing to do with them. So, why did I care about their holiday season? Why was I doing this?

I told myself it was just a random act of kindness. But deep down I knew what the reason was, and even if I didn't want to think about it, I felt it in my heart. I was doing this for the same reason I did everything. So, I took a few moments and came up with a reply.

Sent: 11:25 PM

I'm doing this because I believe that no one should ever have to be alone,

especially during the holidays.

I sent my reply and remembered to keep on shivering. I could hardly feel the cold anymore, I had gone almost completely numb. But I knew if I didn't keep moving, I would surely freeze in place and be unable to move until spring came. I vaguely wondered how cold it was. I remembered having heard on someone's car radio that this was supposed to be the coldest winter Michigan had experienced in the last decade. Though winter had only just begun, it was already cold enough for the district council to be suggesting face coverings to prevent citizens from getting frostbite and losing their nose.

I sneezed. I had no such face covering. Hell! I didn't even have a jacket! Let alone a coat or anything mildly warm. All I had was my oversized green cardigan, my black Star Wars t-shirt and my black jeans. That was it. Yet here I sat, outside a bakery in well below freezing temperatures, shivering myself into next decade.

I could go to a shelter. At least there I wouldn't have to endure the bitter biting of the wind as it gushed with double its normal force through these tight, abandoned alleyways. But if I went to a shelter then there was no chance of leaving undetected, I reminded myself. No, it was better to stay here, cold and alone, than to risk human contact.

I was pulled from my thoughts by another pling from my phone. Another message from that unknown contact.

Received: 11: 27

Are you alone?

Again, the question was simple. And although the mere thought hurt like a knife twisting in a fresh wound, I looked around at the dark, trash littered alleyway I sat in, watching the scattered rags of paper flutter and tumble in the winter gales, and I looked at the brutally beautiful puddles of speckled ice gathering along my body and melting on my skin, and I examined the bleak night sky, choked starless by the drifting dreary clouds; and the utterly silent stillness of the sleeping city revealed the harsh reality of my answer.

No one was here.

Nobody cared.

Not even the stars would keep me company. Because the stars never cared who I was.

So, with no reason to keep the truth hidden. I answered the question honestly.

Sent: 11: 29 PM

Yes.

Sent: 11: 30 PM

I am alone.

I was completely and utterly alone.

***

Received: 10: 30 PM

I am alone.

Once again Jack got the distinct impression that these words carried a heavy burden. It made him frown. What could he do to help a person he didn't even know? He wanted to ask this person if they had any friends, but something about those words told him the answer. When this person had said they were alone, Jack got the feeling they weren't just talking about the current moment. But maybe that's what this person needed. Maybe they needed a friend.

Sent: 10: 32 PM

Well, I'll be your friend and talk to you. There, now you're not alone anymore!

Jack smiled as he sent the text. The reply didn't take long.

Received: 10: 33 PM

Thank you.

You don't have waste your time on me but thank you.

It didn't take any special powers to read in between the lines this time, anyone could see the sadness in those words. Though Jack wasn't sure if it was his powers causing that strange feeling or if he was just imagining things.

Sent: 10:34 PM

I don't mind. Really!

Besides, I don't have anyone to talk to either.

Received: 10: 35 PM

Well, in that case, we can be lonely together!

Jack grinned. He'd made himself a friend. He couldn't wait to get to know them.

***

Received: 11: 36 PM

Since we're friends now, what's your name?

I smiled down at my new mystery friend's message. There was something about the words that made them seem innocent and earnest. It couldn't hurt to give my name, right? It’s not like he could find me. After all, I'm supposed to be dead.

Sent: 11: 37 PM

My name is Martina.

I sent my name and waited for the response. It came quickly.

Received: 11: 38 PM

I like your name Martina!

It's very pretty.

I flinched as I read the text. Something about seeing my name written in the text brought me back to a conversation with a different person a long time ago. It was a painful memory, and I didn't want to see it anymore. I didn't want another reminder of the still bleeding wounds in my heart. I remembered why I didn't let anyone call me that name anymore.

Sent: 11: 39 PM

Thank you.

But I would prefer you call me Marty.

I didn't want to be so sensitive to things like this, but I just couldn't help it.

Received: 11: 40 PM

Alright! I like Marty too.

It's a fun name.

I smiled; grateful they didn't ask why it was so important that they called me by a nickname.

Sent: 11: 41 PM

Thanks for understanding.

So, what's your name?

Received: 11: 42 PM

My name is Jack!

I grinned to myself. I'd made me a friend. I just couldn't wait to get to know him.

Sent: 11: 43 PM

Heya, Jack!

It’s nice to meet you!

I think this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

Received: 11: 44 PM

I agree, Marty. We are going to be great friends!

Sent: 11: 45 PM

So, what's your favorite movie?

And just like that, we talked until the sun came up. And suddenly, for the first time in quite a while, I wasn't completely alone.

***

"Hey, uh, Jack? We're back!"

Sam's voice drifted in from just outside Jack's bedroom door. Jack was surprised. He hadn't heard the brothers come in which, for him, was quite peculiar.

The door creaked open and Jack hastily attempted to pretend like he hadn't been using the phone.

He failed.

Miserably.

The device slipped from his hand and he fumbled to catch it before it smashed against the grey, polished concrete floor. He let out a sigh of relief as he snatched it just in time.

Sam peered around the door, checking in on Jack, who was now hanging halfway off his bed and clutching the phone. Scrambling to sit upright, Jack gave Sam a half-panicked smile.

"Hi Sam!" He waved a greeting, shoving his phone behind his back. Sam raised his eyebrows in a questioning expression and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He folded his arms and leaned back on his heels.

"Hey Jack," Sam seemed a little distracted, "Have you seen Cas?" He asked. Jack shook his head vigorously.

"He's not back yet," He answered. Sam nodded and started to leave before stopping and turning back. Only now seeming to notice Jack's odd behavior. Sam gestured at the phone hidden behind the boys back,

"So, what were you doing in here just now?" Jack's eyes flew wide as quarters and his gaze shifted rapidly around the room, focusing on anywhere but Sam. His mind was working overtime trying to find a viable excuse.

"Uhhhh...Nothing!" Jack tried; his brain had gone blank. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You sure about that?" Sam leaned forward a little, narrowing his eyes. Jack leaned back to match; his face scrunched up with the guilt he was trying very hard to hide. Everyone in the bunker knew how terrible Jack was at lying. He might be able to pass a few simple fibs by a stranger, but his family saw through him like he was made of glass. He couldn't deceive them. But that didn't stop him from trying, however.

"Yes..." Jack said slowly, his eyebrows pulling together in a rather sad attempt at looking sincere.

"Jack, what were you doing?" Sam asked more sternly. Jack looked at his feet and didn't answer. His shoulders moved up and down in a shrug.

"Do I have to go get Dean?" Sam pressed. Now Jack's head shot up. He stretched his hands out in a pleading gesture.

"No, no! Don't tell Dean!" Jack begged. Sam's expression shifted into one of concern.

"If you tell me, I won't tell Dean." Sam agreed, moving to sit on the bed beside Jack who shifted to give him some space. Sam waited patiently for the young Nephilim to speak. Jack kept his head down and rubbed his hands together nervously as he tried to think of how he should explain himself.

"Well, last night I was watching Netflix when I got this text from somebody wishing me a merry Christmas-" He started.

"Someone we know?" Sam asked, interrupting. Jack shook his head and continued.

"I asked them why they would do that, and they said it was because they thought that nobody should be alone this time of year. So, I asked if they were alone and they said, yes ─" Jack looked the younger Winchester in the eyes ─

"I don't know why but I just got this- this feeling, and they sounded just so sad, and now we're friends! But Dean said not to do anything stupid, and now I'm worried that I did! Are you mad?" Jack finished, worry coloring his features. Sam blinked. Once again astounded by the size of the half-angel's heart, he shook his head.

"No, Jack. I'm not mad," He said, softly.

"Really?"

"Really. I think you did a good thing. Everyone needs a friend." Sam patted Jack's shoulder and smiled. Jack looked down, grinning to himself as pride filled his chest.

Sam waited a moment before getting up from the bed. Stretching his back out and groaning a bit as he stood. It had been almost 48 hours since he last slept, and he was more than ready for a long nap. His hand rested on the doorknob and he paused a moment before turning back around.

"Hey, uh, Jack. Just one more thing. Do you by chance know this person's name?" Sam asked. Jack looked up briefly before looking back at the floor again, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping up to stain his cheeks.

"It's, uh, it's Marty," He replied. Sam nodded and moved to leave again but he stopped. His eyebrows pulled down with confusion before he turned back.

"And uh, is that a boy's name or a girl's name? Do you know?" Jack turned his head a bit to the side and picked at a thread in his jeans.

"Does it matter?" He questioned back. Truthfully, it didn't. Sam wouldn't make Jack stop if he didn't want to. But to say that the boy's current evasive behavior didn't pique his interest, would be a lie. Though, the kid’s flushed cheeks told him quite a bit about the answer.

"It doesn't matter," Sam said, shrugging, "I'm just curious is all." The tall man watched the boy's reaction. Jack nodded and shifted as if uncomfortable.

"Marty's a girl." He answered, trying to force his voice into sounding nonchalant. And failing.

"Okay, cool." Sam nodded, turning around again, and reaching for the handle. Jack's head whipped around.

"Wait, Sam!"

Sam looked over his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"Don't. Tell. Dean!" Jack stressed. Urgency was evident in his voice. Sam huffed a laugh.

"Okay, Jack." With that, Sam pulled open the door and walked out letting the heavy steel swing shut behind him. Behind the door, Jack sighed with relief. He'd dodged a bullet with that one.

Walking a ways down the hall, Sam got to Dean's room where his older brother was now unpacking. The younger brother leaned on the door frame and expelled the laughter he'd been holding on to since Jack’s room. Dean turned around, holding a pistol and a pair of weeks old and hopelessly blood caked socks in his hands, he faced Sam with a questioning look.

"What's got you so giggly all of a sudden?" The older of the brother's asked.

Dean glanced at the pair of socks in his hand. He grimaced at the stench and held them further away from his face, trying not to breathe. It didn't work. The socks odor was so pungent, Dean could smell them through his mouth. There was no hope of washing them. Nope, those things would have to be burned. Though, taking another whiff of them, Dean wasn't sure that even incinerating the socks would do him much good now. The stomach-turning stink would be branded into his memory forever. Sam straightened up, shaking his head of shoulder length hair.

"It's just something Jack said." Sam smiled and laughed again before taking notice of the unholy stench wafting off the socks. He coughed. "Dude, those stink. Bad!"

"Yeah, it's a sad day, Sammy." Dean nodded solemnly. Sam covered his nose.

"Why?"

"These were my second luckiest pair of socks."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, they're not anymore," Sam pointed out. Now, they were just rancid.

"I think we should give em' a Viking funeral, something to honor their service. I mean, I remember one time when I wore these things for two weeks straight!" Dean reminisced, grinning. Sam looked mildly disturbed.

"That's, uh... nice... But, uh, is there somewhere we could put them before the funeral? Because they, uh, they reek." Sam was trying hard not to gag and couldn't understand how Dean could be holding them and remain unaffected. Dean smirked.

"You wanna go put em' somewhere?" He asked, waving the socks into Sam's face. Sam leaned away.

"Ah! God! No! Put those things somewhere! Please!" He choked out. Dean just grinned and moved to the other side of the room. Grabbing a cardboard box from off the shelf, he shoved the socks in there and sealed the lid. The stench quickly began to dissipate.

"Better?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"We're gonna have to burn that box too."

"Yup." Sam still felt a little sick but at least the socks were gone.

"So, what was it Jack said that you thought was so funny?" The older brother asked.

"Oh, uh, nothing. It was nothing," Sam said. But laughter began to creep up on him again. Dean rolled his eyes and went back to pulling more dirty clothing from the duffle bag.

"Are ya gonna stand there or are ya gonna spill?" Dean pushed. Sam sobered up again.

"Well, I'm not supposed to tell you," He said.

Dean shook his head, mildly annoyed. He knew Sam was going to tell him whatever juicy information he had gotten, just like he always did when he got that sly look on his face. Sam could be a bit of a schoolgirl that way. Except, of course, when it came to the important things, the things Dean was supposed to know. Those things Sam always kept to himself.

"Well, Sammy, if you ain’t gonna spill─" he used the gun in his hand to gesture from Sam to the duffle bag─ "get workin'."

The younger Winchester moved to the bag and started unpacking, grinning his face off all the while. Dean knew his little brother was waiting for him to ask about the thing with Jack again, so he said nothing. He just waited for Sam to look over to him eagerly, which is exactly what Sam did.

"So get this!" Sam started.

'Here it comes.' Dean predicted internally. Sam kept starring.

'Yatzee.' Dean thought. He knew Sam like the back of his hand. Actually, he probably knew his brother better than that.

"Apparently, Jack got a text from some random person last night wishing him merry Christmas. And, well, you know Jack! So he─" Dean stopped his brother mid-sentence.

"What's her name?" He interrupted. Sam looked confused.

"I didn't say anything about a girl," Sam trailed off. Dean sighed and shook his head.

"Geez, Sammy! If you love drama so much, you should go be an actor. You ain't foolin' anybody. We both know where this is goin' so just cut to the chase!" Dean sighed, opening a trunk and tossing in the gun he'd been holding along with several knives. His small outburst had startled his younger brother, but Dean didn't really care. Sam wasn't the only one who hadn't slept in 48 hours. Sleep was calling and Dean wanted nothing more than to answer. Sam frowned.

"Marty. The girl's name is Marty," Sam stated, sounding rather put out that Dean had guessed at his not-so-cleaver ploy. The older if the pair turned to the younger with a perplexed expression.

"Wait, wait. Marty?" He clarified. Amused disbelief written all over his features.

"Marty," Sam confirmed.

"Marty?"

"Yeah. Marty."

"Like the zebra in Madagascar, Marty?" Dean asked, grinning. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, like that. But remember, you didn't hear anything from me!" He answered, smiling as well. Dean laughed as he turned his attention back to the mess of clothing and weapons surrounding him on the floor.

"Yeah, whatever, drama queen." Dean rolled his eyes and kept working. The room was silent for a moment before the older Winchester burst out laughing again. He couldn't help himself; he found the subject hilarious.

"Ah, man. Marty! Now there's a name!" He exclaimed as he started folding the few clean clothing items laying in the pile. "What? Did her parents just take one look at her and say: 'Look at our beautiful baby! Let's name her Marty!'" Dean scoffed.

Sam snorted and shook his head at his older brother's bad joke. Then he leaned his head back and yawned.

"Man, I think we need some sleep," Sam sighed. Dean smirked.

"Is it your bedtime already?" He taunted, expecting a playful retort. But this time, Sam didn't argue. He just nodded.

"Yeah, I think it is." Though worried about his little brother, Dean held his playful smirk in place perfectly, just like he had been doing for so many years.

"Well, you go ahead and hit the sack. I'll finish up here." He said, easily. Even though he was just as tired and Sam was, he would finish out like always. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, o'course. There's not much left anyway." That was a lie and they both knew it, but Sam took the offer of sleep while it was on the table.

"Thanks, Dean."

"You're welcome, Sammy."

Sam patted his older brother on the arm as he stood and left the room. Traveling down the corridor he got to his bedroom and was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Meanwhile, Dean mouthed the strange name of Jack's mystery girl and chuckled about it to himself. Sitting on the floor in his room as he continued folding the rest of the clean clothes, cleaning out all the weapons and putting everything back in its place. The chore took him two more hours to complete but when it was done, he stretched himself out and laid back on his bed.

"Marty. Now, that's hilarious." Dean snickered to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

~I might hate myself tomorrow.

But I'm on my way tonight.

Let's be lonely together.

A little less lonely together~

Lyrics from: Lonely Together by Jasmine Thompson

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starrysupercell · 4 years ago

Text

Okay. So I had the file on my phone previously. But I had forgotten I did a phone wipe and transferred my stuff to my laptop. Currently, I can't find the old complete list. 🙄 So I had to start from scratch throughout the day when I had time.

Luckily, I remember most of them, and for others I came up with entirely new ones, because you know. More fandom knowledge and stuff. Also, I had fun coming up with newer Brawlers.

I was worried about spoilers for my fanfiction series, but whatever! Theories are theories. I'll still write anyway. Keep in mind that my fanfictions that isn't Take Your Shots will have different interpretations of the characters. [Afternote: I skirted around some topics, lol.]

Oh, yeah. For context, this post is based on my theory (but I'm sure it's common) that the Brawlers had different names before Starr Park hired/kidnapped them. I take it too seriously and most of the names have research done behind them.

That said, @aroacenita and @enderbot-magic tagging you two because you said you were interested in my name list. :3c

☆☆☆☆

Shelly- Stephanie. The first name that came to mind, and I like it.

Colt- Cameron. Same reasoning as ^

Bull- Bruce. One of the original names too. Tough sounding. Maybe too obvious?

Crow- One of the names I can't recall. But I do imagine he used to be human. The bird-man thing is Starr Park induced.

Bibi- Bindy is perfect omg. (VA.)

Piper- Elise or Eliza. (VA + variation. Maybe a Hamilton reference because I'm weak.)

Pam- Tiff/Tiffany. It was her concept name + really fits her. Was previously different.

Nani- one of the few I can't remember, but I had one. Headcanon: also used to be human. Which is why she's the only robot on this list.

Jessie- always had the same name. She grew up in Starr Park, and was named by Pam, of course. Interestingly she is one of the few Brawlers who doesn't have a punny name. (...unless I'm somehow missing an obvious joke? Please correct me if I'm wrong.)

Dyna-Mike- Same? (Minus the Dyna-, lol) But still up in the air. Jas is his VA name but it doesn't sound right for him in my opinion.

Jacky- June, Jana? A strong simple name fits her. Jacky is nearly perfect already.

Mortis- Mason. Came up with this before knowing the voice actor. (Ed doesn't seem fitting. But it's funny that his VA's last name is Mace.)

Frank- honestly I know it's based off of the monster but this is so perfect for him. Probably the same. Interestingly enough, the author is named Mary SHELLEY, who was friends with a man named Lord BYRON. Just some trivia.

Emz- Sandra, Emma? (VA, or variation. I know Shelly + Max have the same VA, but it fits Emz more.)

Penny- hm... well, in my headcanon Darryl renamed her upon finding her one night and deciding to keep her. I haven't come up with a former name for her yet.

El Primo- Since I'm weak to nostalgic references, Oscar. Can you guess why? 😆

Amber- Leah. (VA) It's just cute and fitting for her.

Bea- Beatrice is too easy, isn't it? It's fine. She's a little suspicious anyway.

Mr. P- I think Corbin Peltoh is canon? 👀 I theorize he used to be human too.

Gale- Likely Dean. Seems fitting. (VA) might be a placeholder.

Colette- Katie. (VA) even her last name fits, if I'm being honest.

Ruffs- Blythe fits really well tbh. (VA) but rather than former name, it's his first name. (In the military you refer by rank + surname.) Oh, and important note: I see him as actually the inverse of Crow. He is a dog that became sentient. (Maybe. Still playing around with him.)

Squeak- Named by Ruffs. (Squeak Ruffs?? Cute.)

Tara- I want to say that I had a name for her that I'm forgetting, but I'm now a fan of this being her original name. In my head, Tara is... someone who was human once too, but unlike Crow and Mr. P, her inhuman dimensional powers transcends Starr Park.

Gene- Originally had no true name. Was affectionately called Gene by Tara when she freed him, and it stuck. His Lamp is named Sliver. (A different entity.. and... I think I'll save this for stories, lol.)

Sandy- Mysteriously appeared one day. Was also nicknamed by the other two in the Mystic Trio, and it stuck. He doesn't mind.

Spike- Since the day he was brought to life, his name was Spike. Who brought him to life and named him, you ask? 🤔 Good question. I'm also saving this for my story~

Byron- (Complicated jerk.) A really big mystery. On one hand, Byron is a really good name that fits him. And, while I wouldnt be surprised that he chose to be in Starr Park and as a result COULD keep his name, there's evidence showing that... he isn't entirely 100% of his own accord. So, I did some digging and research for him. There was the aforementioned association with Frankenstein's author, but also he's based off of the VERY amazing villain in "The Last Action Hero" named Benedict. But I think it's too on the nose. So, I'm inclined to go with the actor's real name- Charles. (Also fun fact, I might use his voice actor's full name for his parents' name, Steven and Kelly, lol.)

Belle- *inhales* Belle is perfect, but just as (if not more) mysterious. I thought I had more to say, but I'm still trying to figure her out. I'll just leave this here. (Someone pointed this out on Reddit. I did not find it myself.) vvv

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belle_Starr

Ones I couldn't come up with yet:

Edgar, Brock, Max, Poco, Rosa + The Shaman Trio

I hope I haven't forgotten anyone... Up for discussion and input!!!

#Brawl Stars #Speculation #All #Long Post

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mallowstep · 4 years ago

Note

I’m thinking about writing a short OC piece about Windclan and I’d love to see your notes about its culture and the hymns you’ve written so far, everything you’ve done for Windclan appreciation month has really inspired me :)

hello anon!

alright, first things first: please send me ur piece when ur done if you're comfortable doing so! i will publish it from you, or if you don't want to be associated with it in Any Way, i will also just read it and add it to the queue with no indication why it's there. or if you don't want me to share it at all, i'd still like to read it.

as for your ask,

hymns?

i'm working on it. however, underneath the read more, i'll include a few snippets for u.

culture

alright, i'm just going to post links with some commentary as i go. feel free to ask any more questions you have.

windclan (search) | windclan (tag) | wcam tag | five clans (narrative essays)

i would link the elders den, but there's no windclan stories in there ATM.

moving on, i'm just going to go through posts in reverse chronological order.

tallstar taking a mate admittedly, this is more about cats and sexuality than windclan, but i provide the commentary that windclan...has a particular view on sexuality and fluidity. one thing i haven't explored but should is the role visiting cats have in windclan.

whoops that's a code word, my plug for solacefruit has been activated. okay, as you may be aware, based on the fact that i have a whole tag for it, i'm obsessed with solacefruit. now, i love everything they do, but i would like to point you particularly to "make a mighty sound" for a fantastic exploration of this idea.

i don't want to spoil anything, but i do think windclan, and maybe cats as a whole, but windclan has a certain view towards relationships that very much breaks them into pieces. i'm a "love is a verb" person, so the idea that you can grow to love someone romantically by going through the actions of love makes sense. not to say you will, but you can.

(to be clear i'm not out advocating for arranged marriages just saying that they can work, they're not destined to be bad, and there's a difference between forced marriage and arranged marriage.)

anyway.

this was a lot of words to say, cats do not have a human (and particularly, western/american) understanding of relationships, which makes analyzing them in those terms difficult.

early hymn talk i'll probably say more below, but it is here.

general ibtwicm notes might get you into the headspace for some of my choices in ibtwicm.

i don't have a ton to say because this pretty much all holds, but uh, yeah.

poetry and language this isn't strictly about windclan, but it does explain some of what i think about when writing hymns.

obviously, i'm writing english translations, but these general themes are what i have in mind. it's also part of why i say i don't think i'll ever release a "full hymnal" for windclan, because i don't know if my weak worldbuilding heart could take it if i only had translations.

names part two very much not about windclan, but just some thoughts on names. as i've said before, i support all names and worldbuilding equally, but if you want my thoughts on names, go buckwild.

clan culture fic rec list just stuff i think does a good job, if you want other sources of inspiration.

general clan culture notes this is really old, but it mostly holds.

i've obviously expanded a lot on windclan since i wrote it, so shrug? idk man.

alright, i'm going to move into hymn discussion below the cut, but best of luck! and i hope u have a good time. it makes my brain shut down to read that i inspired you, straight up got brain juice pouring out of my ears, but i'm really, really happy to hear that.

windclan holds a special place in my heart. (i know my oc avatar is from skyclan shhh it's because of the backstory he sees ghosts.) but i grew up in this super sporty household as a lil asthmatic klutz, and running was a sport i couldn't mess up, so of course windclan appealed to me.

they're actually third on my list of favorite clans, but they. it's a special place in my heart that they hold, especially after reading dawn of the clans and moth flight's vision, where i got an asthmatic cat and an adhd cat, both in windclan.

god i should reread dotc it's good.

alright, here's the deal on hymns: i am not going to fight to get duets to post correctly. there's a 0% chance i can in tumblr's wonky ass new editor with no markdown, not to mention how difficult it would have been in the old editor. so i'm going to talk a lil about what i've got, and post some stanzas that i think don't get explored a lot in ibtwicm.

we're discussing these in the order that they go in. a reminder that these are all sections of one epic poem. that said, i don't know where the gaps are. like, i don't know what's between these, if that makes sense.

the wind

the wind, the very first hymn. this is an ode to, well, windclan. it's a song about everything that makes them them. it's filled with poetry about the wind, about the seasons, and it's just...well, it's a bit of a genesis, in a way.

The wind — like the rain, like the river — calls the name of each star in its breath. The wind — like the earth, like the stone — anchors us to our home. The wind — like the sun, like the sky — is knowable only by name.

i wanted to share this stanza because the last line doesn't show up in ibtwicm (at least so far, i cut the reference), and it really, really, makes a difference imo.

anyway, windclan is basically tying the wind in with every other fundamental part of their life here.

they are the wind, and that's that.

the hare

okay, this one has a line that comes up a lot in ch1, but i already talked about that, so instead, i'm going to talk about this stanza

Speak of the earth and the dens, and you will be answered: By the call of the howling gales, the open earth singing in response. But speak of that which grows above, of the grass and field, And you will be answered by the softness of the buds and the roots.

okay, we get deadfoot thinking about this when he's talking to yellowfang.

i like this stanza because it really tells us what the hare is about. now, hares are not something windclan catches. hares are huge, y'all, there's no way they take one down. i take liberties with ecology, but not that many.

(i.e., a team of cats definitely could take one down, but i know too much, and would prefer letting team hunting stay a plot thing, and not fundamentally alter the environment in the way it would.)

now anyway, all of these hymns come from the time of the tunnelers. and the point of this is, even though the work of tunnelers and moor runners is disconnected, they fundamentally affect each other.

a moor runner must trust the hollows of the earth beneath them won't collapse, and a tunneler must trust that the prey they chase up will be caught.

it's all very symbiotic and is, well, in a way, a love poem. plus i really like the line "the open earth singing in response"

of the warrens

so this has one line, one you might not even know is a hymn, in ch1, but i'll share the whole stanza.

And as for the subject of fallow fields: Fallowed fields make for hungry prey, Yet hungry prey makes desperate rabbits, Who leap into our claws.

and ig my big point is, the hymns are a cultural artifact. just like many of the rules in the old testament have to do with hygiene things being codified into religion, this whole hymn is about hunting advice.

the moon on the river

okay, out of all the hymns, this is the most complete, and because ashfoot and deadfoot sing it together, and deadfoot discusses it, i only have one stanza to share.

Under the coldness, you shine back at me, And I do everything to keep the clouds from threatening you.

now, this poem is about love, grief, and being separated. it's a particular kind of grief, and windclan discourages grief, so this is one of only a few ways to really, fully express it.

and this section, in particular, is about love in times of hardship.

i don't have. a lot to say here. but the way hardship changes how you love someone can be particular and intense.

(temporarily, this happens sometime before "Spare for my chosen few / All I have is given towards the distant ground.")

the gorse in the wind

oh shit! i have so fucking much to say okay first.

the series title does not come from this hymn.

second, this is a challenging hymn okay. fuck. i have so much to say. where to start so! moors are actually relatively wet. think british countryside, not, like, a cool desert.

this is something i always knew? i read the secret garden a lot as a kid. but. i've seen stuff about moors being dry, and it's just one of those things that really...starts to eat under your skin. anyway.

okay, so. gorse is a dry plant. it does not like rain. it grows in sandy soil, etc etc, and yet. aside from everything we know about gorse and warriors, it also grows in this moor. because i say so.

okay, so. so so so. the lines quotes here are really deceptive, and i bet no one understood why, and that makes me just a little sad, but i couldn't find a good way to explain it in text, so uh, yeah, anyway. there's an exchange between ashfoot and deadfoot: "THE GORSE: You called me the heather and I grew stronger. / THE WIND: I called you the heather and brought rain for you to grow."

so...so do you see? do you see the point? it's about communication, needs, challenging each other. fadskj;l i love this. okay, so. the point is that heather is fragile, soft, pretty, and gorse is the opposite. the part of the wind is trying to be kind and complimentary, but the gorse is saying, fuck that, you are not being kind to me by undercutting my strength.

anyway, this passage is sung by the gorse:

In what good company have I set down roots, That even through snow fall I flower. You called me the heather and yet I've weathered, Far more than your sweet-named love.

so uh, yeah, this adds context. gorse! gorse is a hardy plant that continues to flower basically all season round. it's cool. it's cool. gorse is super cool. fuuuck y'all it's such a small thing and i've contained talking about it until now, but now it's too much. the floodgates are open, and i thought about this small detail too much.

okay. deep breath. gorse is a really easy plant to grow, but it's still adapted for dry environments. so the "even through snow fall I flower" part is a little tongue in cheek: gorse itself will flower in the cold, but snow is a type of precipitation, which as we've covered, is not gorse friendly.

then we have some rhyming and puns in the next line, and finally, "yet I've weathered, / Far more than your sweet-named love." like. yes. love as a form of softness is not necessarily helpful.

i mean, consider the damaging "soft trans boi" problem. same energy.

right. okay. so we've got all that? now if you remember, this is sung when deadfoot thinks ashpaw doesn't respect him, and ashpaw says she'll sing with him if she can sing the gorse, so in essence, she's telling him...not to back off, per se, but that...she is the "hard part" of the relationship. like, okay, i refuse to even bring up gender roles in human relationships, but uh, her point is very much, "i am the gorse, and you are the wind," and it's a very monumental moment.

it's anchored, i believe, in the other scenes, but this is a small thing that matters a lot to me.

like a lot.

okay, now that i've talked about like four lines for the length of this entire post, moving on.

the heather and earth

okay, this is the last hymn i have in concrete terms, and i cut a bit of it from the latest chapter, so yeah. it's also, uh, okay everything i have for it is only a line or two, but i wanted to share this closing line (sung together):

Sing a song of forgiveness, of growing together, and we will make madness, And madness from hence will everything beautiful grow.

and i just like these lines. they got cut, it was initially part of an exchange between ashfoot and deadfoot, but i can't share the part of it they talk about, because i'm reusing it for a later chapter and i'll 100% spoil shit if i try to talk about it.

but these lines? mmm they speak to me.

i don't have a ton to say about them, but i just. i like it.

if we apply the same ecology discussion from the gorse and the wind, we see heather is a plant that grows in acidic, infertile soil, and heath (which is not the same as a heather, but also kind of is) is a defining quality of heathland, which is...i'm not kidding, it's hot discourse about the difference between moorland and heathland.

i'm not getting involved, but my point is, if the gorse in the wind is a hymn about finding a working relationship, about mutual respect, etc., then the heather and earth is a hymn about working well together in a terrible situation.

god.

uh, wow! can you tell i like plants? because while parts of my ecology are dubious (see: everything regarding the rabbits in ch1), the plants part are well thought out. this shit is carefully detailed metaphor.

and that's why i won't be releasing a full hymnal. it's hard to as on top of this as i want to be. i'm not kidding, writing even four lines of a hymn usually takes me about twenty minutes, because i pull up a lot of research about how things work, how they interact with each other, etc., and then there's wordsmithing, cat worldview filter, etc.

but i hope this overview of what i've got is a good insight into my general thoughts. and i will eventually release more and more of the hymns i've got written.

#ask #anon #mine #txt #windclan #wcam #essay #long #warriors #warriors worldbuilding #windclan hymn project #mateo fanboying over solacefruit again

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lovewillthaw-j · 5 years ago

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Ahtohallan, Iduna and the Voice

Ahtohallan is an integral part to the Frozen 2 story and I want to analyse Elsa’s inner thoughts about Ahtohallan. Much of this post is based on headcanon, so if you disagree or would like to offer a different perspective, do reach out in the comments! Long post ahead.

As an 8 year old

Elsa first hears of Ahtohallan when Iduna sings the lullaby, All is Found. To Elsa, Ahtohallan is just a legend at this point. Nobody believes it is real, not even Iduna. Ahtohallan/All is Found is associated with happiness and hope to 8 year old Elsa, as the lullaby comforts her after she had just received a somber history lesson from Agnarr with grave consequences for her as future queen, but also as a little girl not understanding why she alone had powers. I covered that in this analysis.

Between 8 and 18 years old

In my headcanon, the trauma of Anna’s accident and the subsequent isolation of Elsa affected Iduna and Elsa so much that Iduna probably never sang the lullaby or mentioned Ahtohallan again to Elsa. Also, Agnarr’s instruction was to “conceal, don’t feel” so I guess Iduna did not want to stir up magical thoughts in Elsa.

18-21 years old - from Iduna’s death till the events of Frozen 1

Devastated by the death of Iduna (and Agnarr) and being thrust into her role as Queen, Elsa probably completely forgot about Ahtohallan and the lullaby. Unknown to the audience in F1, Iduna had researched on Ahtohallan and concluded that it was a real place beyond the Dark Sea. F2 revealed to us her annotations on the map that was found in the ill-fated ship.

The 3 years after F1 till just before Frozen 2

As a result of Anna’s great love and sacrifice, Elsa opened up and experienced love again and re-connected with Anna. The endless conversations they must have had, would surely have included the topic of their parents. Just think, they had 10 years of different experiences with their parents to share with each other! Additionally, at some point, Elsa discovered Iduna’s scarf and it would have brought back memories of Iduna’s presence, scent, songs, and Ahtohallan. So at this point, Elsa associates the Ahtohallan legend as part of the cloud of memories she has of Iduna.

F2: Balcony + Bedroom scene

In my headcanon, Elsa was reminiscing Iduna singing the lullaby while at the balcony, as evidenced by her dreamy look which turns into a wistful smile. She was distracted enough by the memory that Kai’s sudden address to her (“Your Majesty”) could cause her to freeze the parapet. (I believe that Elsa in F2 had gotten control of her powers) In the bedroom, such a sweet scene, Anna soothes Elsa by singing their mother’s lullaby to her and stroking her forehead and nose. Ahtohallan is still a legend associated with the memory of Iduna.

Hearing the Voice

Elsa hears the Voice calling her on the balcony, during the charades game, in her dreams before Into the Unknown, throughout ITU, while sleeping in the wagon and while making friends with Bruni. She quickly realises that she is the only who hears it and she associates the Voice with the Enchanted Forest, because of what she saw during ITU and because the Voice woke her when it was time to enter the forest at the stone pillars of the spirits. She doesn’t know who the voice belongs to, yet.

Honeymaren scene

Honeymaren introduces the legend of the Fifth Spirit and that some heard it call out the day the forest fell. Elsa starts to form an association between the Voice and the Fifth Spirit. Note that while Honeymaren makes a reference to Ahtohallan here, the way she says it implies that she doesn’t believe it exists either.

The Ship scene (1)

In this pivotal scene, Ahtohallan, an unimportant legend that Elsa has known for the past 16 years, suddenly becomes a reality. Take a moment to let that sink in. Now consider that the one who reveals it is Iduna. This is very significant for Elsa. The story would have been very different if someone else, eg a Northuldran, or Gale, had told Elsa about Ahtohallan, or say for example if the girls had found a Northuldran artifact like a scroll or wood carving etc. Suddenly, Elsa is electrified by the knowledge that Ahtohallan exists and that Iduna was trying to find it, to help Elsa deal with her powers.

The Ship scene (2)

But before Elsa (and us, the audience) has had time to let that sink in, she decides rather hastily to use her new powers to generate memories from the water in the ship. The filmmakers chose the image of Agduna at the point of their death for devastating emotional effect. I think Elsa must have regretted doing it because it reopened old wounds.

Anna (lovethawmode), summons her mightiest love to comfort Elsa, reaffirms her belief in Elsa and brings Elsa out of a depression spiral. A composed Elsa puts two and two together and concludes that the Voice/Fifth Spirit is in Ahtohallan and Ahtohallan is the next destination.

Before I discuss the climax in Show Yourself, let me first state that in my headcanon, neither Elsa or Anna remembers the third, foreshadowing, verse of All is Found:

Where the north wind meets the sea There's a mother full of memory Come, my darling, homeward bound When all is lost, then all is found

They only can remember the earlier parts, and this ties in to my headcanon that Iduna never sang it again after the accident. Elsa is not expecting to see Iduna in Ahtohallan at all. At all.

Show Yourself (1) - Approaching Ahtohallan

After taming the Nokk, Elsa glimpses Ahtohallan for the first time. She hears the Voice call her again and she sheds a tear because she senses a presence as she nears Ahtohallan, and that presence is touching her from deep within.

Something is familiar Like a dream I can reach but not quite hold I can sense you there Like a friend I've always known I'm arriving And it feels like I am home

These lyrics could be interpreted to be describing Iduna. Of course the lyrics have dual meaning and could be interpreted to be Elsa sensing herself and who she’s always been meant to be (Fifth Spirit) since birth, which was taken away from her by fear.

Show Yourself (2) - Coronation as Fifth Spirit

As she enters and goes deeper into Ahtohallan, she sees the elements 1) carved in ice pillars 2) as four beams of light that shine when she sings the call 3) and as their avatars made out of glowing lights, merging into the four crystals. It becomes clear to Elsa that the place in the centre of the crystals is meant for her. She, Elsa, is the Fifth Spirit. She has always been the Fifth Spirit (not only at this moment, her coronation is just confirmation). But the Voice doesn’t belong to the Fifth Spirit. The Voice belongs to... ... ...

Show Yourself (3) - Convergence

IDUNA. Yes, at the end of 16 years, Ahtohallan, Iduna and the Voice all converge! They were never separate at all. There is such great joy when Elsa sees adult Iduna singing “Come my darling homeward bound!” to her that she trembles and the tears just flow freely. Elsa 1) has found an answer to why she has powers 2) is assured of her mother’s love for her 3) has found Ahtohallan, which means she can A) always access her happy memories of Iduna and B) discover the truth about the Arendelle-Northuldra war and free the forest.

Final headcanons about Iduna, the Voice and Iduna in Ahtohallan: First and foremost, I believe Iduna has passed away for good (unless F3 changes that!!!) and she’s not alive as a spirit/ghost. I believe young Iduna came up with the call (ah-ah-ah-ah) to call Gale, and Ahtohallan chose to use the same call to call Elsa. Yes, I believe Ahtohallan is the one who has been calling her all along and I believe the four spirits are working in partnership with Ahtohallan to bring Elsa to Ahtohallan, albeit first testing her powers to make sure she is “worthy”.

For the climax of Show Yourself in Ahtohallan, I believe that Iduna is not actually singing to Elsa; she has passed away and we are seeing Elsa’s memories - the memory of Iduna singing “come my darling homeward bound” comes from the very same night that Iduna sang the lullaby. For the other lines (duet with Elsa):

Show yourself Step into your power Throw yourself Into something new

You are the one you've been waiting for

Actually, we only hear Iduna’s voice, because the image of Iduna is just smiling at Elsa as Elsa’s dress transforms and she twirls in delight. So I think one possible explanation is that Ahtohallan is letting Elsa hear a memory of Iduna saying/singing these words to her. As to when exactly Iduna said those words, I have 2 explanations: 1) Iduna said these words to Elsa when Elsa was self-isolating and struggling with her powers; but Elsa did not remember Iduna saying them as she was too anguished; or 2) Elsa never heard Iduna say these words, possibly because A) Elsa had fallen asleep after the lullaby and Iduna said these words to a sleeping Elsa or B) when Elsa shut everyone out of her life, Iduna might have stood outside Elsa’s door, crying silently and whispering these words. Ahtohallan is able to show Elsa events that Elsa herself did not witness, the most obvious example being Runeard murdering the Northuldran leader.

Thanks for reading if you reached this point!

#frozen #frozen 2 #frozensource #frozensnetwork #arendellesources #disneyfeverdaily #disney frozen #disney frozen 2 #disney #disneysuniverse #frozen analysis #ahtohallan #elsa #iduna #fifth spirit elsa #headcanon

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capricornus-rex · 5 years ago

Text

A Legacy Begun (9)

Chapter 9: A Padawan’s Trial | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: After a long time of running and fighting, you and Cal decided to finally settle down after all these years to raise a family. However, it was never a life of peace whilst the shadow of the Empire looms over your heads.

Prompt/s in play: Anon prompt (found in Chapter 1 link) + fic idea

A/N: Didn’t have the time to switch on my PS4 just to customize a saber lol so I went to saberforge.com and used their 3D Saber Builder instead. Here’s what i made for Cassidy Kestis’s saber!

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 | Previous: Part 8 | Next: Part 10 | Masterlist

9 of ?

1 BBY

Your slender fingers wove Cassidy’s bright, scarlet locks into tight, chunky braids. You hummed her favorite lullaby—a force of habit—as you secured the end of the braid with a band. She skipped towards the mirror hanging on the wall and let her fingertips glide over her hair.

“Is that how you like it?”

“Yes, Mommy, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, darling,” you received your thanks in full payment of a kiss and hug from Cassidy. “Go fetch your things now. Don’t forget your jacket, okay?”

“Okay!” she hopped down from her bed and started rummaging through her cabinets for stuff that she’ll bring in the trip.

You excused yourself and exited her bedroom, Cassidy was too excited to coherently reply to your permission. The ten-year-old’s heart was racing, her mind imagined so many things that could possibly happen, and she began visualizing what the place would look like.

Due to her excitement, she didn’t realize that she had taken a bit of her time in packing. She had gone through a raincheck of the contents of her backpack thrice now. She hastily slung the bag on her shoulders and snatched her crumpled poncho lying on a pile.

“Coming, Mom!” she announced, speeding out of her bedroom to join her parents at the door.

She slipped her both her hands into you and Cal’s hands, the three of you left your homestead and trekked towards the Mantis waiting a few meters away from the house.

The ship’s entry ramp unfolded, Cassidy lets go of your hands when you’ve reached a certain distance between the ship, her backpack bobbed up and down in every step as she ran towards the luxury cruiser.

“Aunt Cere! Aunt Merrin!” Cassidy squeaked happily, attempting to fit both women in her scrawny arms.

“Cassidy! Look how big you’ve gotten!” Cere chuckled, her hand patted Cassidy’s head and then hovered it to the empty space to emphasize the girl’s height.

“Any longer and you might just out-tall me—if that’s even a word!” Greez came in waddling into the scene. He had all four of his arms open for Cassidy and she gladly threw herself into them.

“I grew three inches this month!” she bragged, then proceeded to tease him by tussling the non-existent hair on his head to further establish her taking the lead in this height race she has with the Lateron.

The captain grumbled, uncertain to the crew whether he was joking around or is genuinely frustrated that the once-tiny Kestis kid is getting taller and taller each month. You and Cal eventually caught up with the crew, greeting each other with embraces and claps on the shoulders or backs.

“She’s quite excited,” Cere’s eyes rolled to the side, referring to Cassidy who was now busy checking out the terrarium.

“Yeah, let’s hope the entire ordeal doesn’t deter her,”

“She’ll be fine, [y/n],”

Revisiting the engine room and then spotting the lone white cot on the side brought back a lot of memories, it’s as though a long time has passed since you and Cal slept here. It had become an extra room since the three of you have made a home by the forest in Zera III.

You approached the now-empty workbench, you weren’t used to seeing it bare, having only the non-slip mat left—it was eventually returned to its former, cluttered glory when Cal settled the toolboxes specifically for this trip.

“Everything she’ll ever need is right here,”

“Where is she?”

“With Greez at the cockpit,”

“Oh no, is she pestering him to teach her how to drive?” the idea seemed rich, you’re already imagining the Lateron dealing with the redheaded handful that is your daughter.

Cal’s mockingly pensive look and a quick glance to the direction of the door meant “yes.” The two of you laughed among yourselves, Greez’s shouts from the cockpit amplified the comedy that was playing out in your heads. When the laughter died down, you surveyed the quarters.

“Is it just me or did this room just got narrower?”

“Feels pretty much the same to me,”

“Yeah, brings back memories,”

Cal leaned closer to you, his warm breath blew on your shoulder and the hairs on your nape pricked up.

“Oh yeah, which ones?” he purred suggestively.

“Very funny,”

He teased you some more, brushing away the hair over your shoulders to expose your neck for his lips to brush against.

“Cal, not while she’s here,”

“We can always lock the door—say it suddenly jammed,” he nibbled your earlobe as his hand searched for yours to intertwine with.

He continued to suckle your neck, a weak yelp escaped your throat—his eyebrows flicked up upon hearing it, his lips curled in satisfaction as he continued prod the tip of his tongue to the crook of your shoulder. Your arm began to move by itself, reaching for the railing as support—you knew what your body was trying to make you do, with your only weapon being your willpower, your hand gripped the edge of the table instead.

“Well? How about it, love?” he sniggered.

You didn’t know why it pained you to pull yourself away, just when your body was beginning to heat up. You twirled to face him, looked him in the eye and gathered the guts to tell it to his face.

“Might I remind you that we have our daughter on board,” you steeled your voice, when you saw the puppy eyes being deployed, you bit your lip and fiddled with the buckle of Cal’s armor. “But later—when she’s sound asleep.”

A glint in Cal’s eye shone brighter than the white dwarf star found in Zera III’s sky. Amused, you stood on the tips of your toes to plant a tender kiss on his lips. You playfully clapped his chest with both of your hands before walking out of the quarters.

You switched on the holotable and typed the coordinates of Ilum. The message reflected on Greez’s computer and he charted the Mantis to its course.

“Now en route to Ilum!” the Lateron captain announced.

The family lounged in the holotable couch, Cassidy knelt behind Merrin in an attempt to braid her platinum hair which has grown dramatically over time—the length had already reached the center of her spine—and bantered with her father.

“Hey Dad, did you and Mom go to the Gathering together when you were younger?” Cassidy finally secured the twisted braid with a pin fastened to the back of Merrin’s head.

You and Cal exchanged glances, something warranted your eyes to meet. Then Cal quickly turned back to his daughter who now sat beside him on the sofa.

“No, we didn’t, unfortunately,”

“Would’ve been great if you did!”

“Yeah,” Cal trailed off, then returned his glance to you, a rather shy smile traced along his lips. “It would.”

The Mantis’s speed had slowed down, indicating your arrival in the planet’s orbit. Cassidy rushed to the cockpit. In her excitement, she stood between the seats, leaning closer and closer until she gets a better view of the ice-white planet that filled the roundness of her black pupils.

“Whoa, kid! Settle down, we’ll get closer in a few seconds!” Greez grumbled, both amused and overwhelmed by the kid’s wild hybrid of enthusiasm and excitement—honestly, he couldn’t tell which of the two anymore.

“Cassidy, you’ll hit your head once we get atmospheric turbulence,” Cal softly scolded as he assisted in flying the ship.

Cal cautioned her to buckle up and she ran to the nearest seat she could find—the chair opposite of Cere’s. The Mantis quaked as it cut through the thick clouds and heavy sheen of the snowstorm. Greez knew exactly where to the land—in the same spot behind a rock wall against the direction of the wind.

The child hopped out of her seat and sprinted towards the quarters where she had stashed her backpack. She moved with such brisk in the same fashion that one would be in when the phrase “This is not a drill” rings in an alarm. She slipped into the beige poncho with dark grey sleeves which she inherited from Cal. Despite the height she prided herself with, the poncho’s length fell to her shins—had she been shorter, it would have been a robe!

It didn’t bother her though, for she knew that it would keep her extra warm. She popped out of the quarters, the flap of the poncho billowing as she waddled about excitedly.

“Where’s Mom?”

“She’s already in the Temple,” Cal took her hand and the blizzard’s air wafted into the ship, sending literal chills down everybody’s spine.

“Cassidy,” the child glanced over her shoulder to the call of her name. “May the Force be with you.”

She repaid the greeting with a smile and then headed out of the ship. The coldest wind to have ever existed blew onto her already-numbing face, specks of ice pricked her freckled cheeks, and snowflakes have already adorned the twists of her braids as they billowed in the harsh winter gale.

“This blizzard is just the beginning, Cassidy! But don’t let it discourage you,” her father lectured as they stamped through ankle-deep snow—in Cassidy’s case, it’s calf-deep.

Her arm shielded her eyes as she felt the hand of her father on the small of her back, guiding her through the trek towards the entrance of the temple. A great mound of snow, perhaps meters thick, divided Cassidy and her kyber crystal.

“There’s no way we’re getting through this path,” Cal hinted, indirectly urging her to think for herself.

Admittedly, she didn’t anticipate that she’d be challenged head-on this soon. This didn’t discourage the Padawan, she unstrapped her backpack and fished out her own pair of climbing claws—she punched the wall, driving the metal nails into the rock face caked with ice and snow, and started scaling upward.

“Attagirl,” Cal muttered under his breath.

He watched his daughter scale the ice wall, Cassidy had become more acrobatic and lithe with her movements—something that she has utilized greatly to her advantage as she grew up with her training.

The beads of sweat freeze over her pores the second they come out, the closer she got to the top of the ice wall, the heavier her body felt.

“No…! Not now, not when I’m so close!!” she growled through clenched teeth, tugging her one arm out of the wall and then burying the claws again a few inches above her head to hoist herself up.

Come on, Cassidy! Pull up!

She coaxed herself mentally, a stripe of frosted sweat dripped along her temples until she finally reeled herself upward, scuttling through the snow to bring her body to the flat surface. She spotted a pair of boots planted on the soil, when she shot her head up, it was Cal; apparently, she was too caught up in reaching the top of the wall that she didn’t realize her father had beaten her to it. But it wasn’t a race, this was a trial—a trial that she had to face alone.

“Good job,” the emotion in Cal’s voice had unusually become stricter, almost sounding like Jaro Tapal. “We’ll be expecting you inside.”

Without awaiting a reply from her, he disappeared into the opening of the wall—Cassidy followed him into that opening and found an empty room. Another spherical entryway was found in the opposite side of the chamber; easily enough, she figured out the pulley mechanism to trigger the lens to open up, pooling the wall with golden light.

Cassidy followed the path that led to the platform overlooking the main foyer of the temple. She finds both of her parents by the ledge—her mother sitting erect yet relaxed while the father stood tall and proud, their backs turned against another lens.

As the daughter approached, her eyes widened at the sight of the largest crystal she’s ever seen—suspended from the ceiling, at the center of it all, white fog swirled in front of her as she exhaled her gasp.

“Impressive, and to think the main path had been blocked,” you began without prompt, drawing the attention of the girl to you. “But in this temple, you’ll find trials more challenging than the last. Finding one’s kyber is easier said than done. This whole place will test your mettle. Not only will the Force guide you to your crystal, but it will try you—constantly. Your training and skills are your only tools through this obstacle. We will keep a close eye on you, but everything you have to do—you do it alone. You do understand this, don’t you, Cassidy?”

“Yes,” she stiffened her demeanor and steeled her voice. “Yes, Master.”

“Good. May the Force be with you, my child.”

You channeled the Force towards the pulley mechanism, the latch tore off from the port and the metal cover rumbled to reveal a beam of the same warm, golden light. Cal aligned the giant crystal to the light, reflecting and extending the ray of light to the archway that has been frozen solid by another wall of ice. The ice transfigured into water at the mercy of the warm light and then turned to mist the instant it crashed against the snow.

That was Cassidy’s cue. Her Gathering had begun.

Marching through that archway felt like going through a portal to another dimension. Stagnant, cold air wafting through her freckled cheeks was her greeting, and the chill of the cave was her host. The spaciousness of the cavern took her breath away, freezing her lungs as she inhaled and relished in the unforgiving beauty and mystery of Ilum’s ice caves.

Surveying the vastness that stretched in front of her, no sign of her would-be crystal yet. Her eagerness has betrayed her.

“Come on, Cassy, keep moving,” she coaxed herself.

Cassidy aimed the center of the caverns with her eyes, then carved a path on her own towards the inner conclave—with her objective in mind—and disturbed the snow with the soles of her boots. There was an invisible line that she followed—she believed that it was the Force guiding her; but while she’s grateful of the guidance, the anticipation of a challenge, of a test, dangled in the back of her mind.

A rather narrow stone bridge appeared before her. It was fragile—almost too fragile, in fact, that the slightest blow of wind made the rock crack and dust off tiny debris and snow. But on the other side of the beam was much more stable ground, she didn’t think that the sight of such would be so attractive.

“Only one way to find out,”

She puts one foot in front of the other, her pads of her toes touch the first inch, she cautiously brings the other foot next without putting too much of her weight; in a feathery grace, she stretches both her arms for balance as she treaded through the balance beam.

The sound of the bridge giving way was trying to discourage her, but with every light step she takes, she brushes away the thought. Not long enough, she’s made it to the end. Cassidy exhaled sharply upon her realization, but the stone was already crumbling beneath her feet, and so she sprang away a split-second before half of it collapsed, falling into the foggy abyss.

“Did you hear that?” you snapped from your meditation—a way of tracking where Cassidy probably is at the moment.

“She’s fine. I can feel her footsteps from here,”

“I know. But this could possibly be the first challenge she’s faced so far,”

At her arrival of the empty conclave, the statues—caked with snow and whose details have been eroded over time—welcomed her with their hands clasped together. Fascinated, she takes a step closer, examining their details and textures, looking past the snow that obscured their features. This conclave was also the center of a crossroads; each path seduced her with the same end goal, but what they don’t show her is what lies between the crystal and her.

Like any other youngling with the thrill of harvesting their kyber, she wasn’t thorough with her thought process. She’s unconsciously imposed a challenge upon herself when she began going in and out of each pathway. The longer she finds herself losing her bearings, her anxiety, frustration, and impatience combined became louder. The snow and the cold air delivered these emotions to you and Cal Kestis.

“Do you sense it, [y/n]?”

“Yes, so many,” you replied as-a-matter-of-factly. As tempting it might be, you restrained yourself from connecting with Cassidy through the Force.

Let her learn. Let her do this alone. You chanted to yourself, training yourself do what’s on your mind.

It felt like the air had formed ice inside Cassidy’s lungs by now, after running around in circles for a good chunk of time. Vexed, she kicked a wad of snow against the tip of her boots; her little tantrum had allowed her to blow off some steam and thought of her Plan B.

Feel, don’t think. Cassidy recalls the words of her mother.

Keeping herself grounded, she closed her eyes, and concentrated—just as you taught her. Through her mind, she entered each one and saw what they have laid—dangling the prize in front of her like bait to a fish—using her instincts, she assessed them one by one. The moment her eyes shot up, she knew exactly where to go.

Inside the tunnel, it was dim but at the corner of her eye, a mischievous twinkle played with her vision but she never doubted it. She knew what it was. Cassidy followed the gold spark until it revealed itself—hanging by the point of a stalactite like a droplet waiting to fall. A meters-wide gap separated her from the natural enclave where the crystal awaited her.

“That’s it. I know it!” she gasped.

Cassidy didn’t waste any time in heading towards the crystal that calls her. It was the only thing that filled her clear, dark irises. She proceeded to traverse the hostile terrain. Sprinting to her left side, the rock pillars became her stepping stones, bringing her ever closer to her objective. The ridge wall at the end of the path connected her to the enclave.

Due to her over-excitement, a jump done too soon nearly cost her life. Her own climbing claws had her literally hanging on for dear life. Her startled cry ricocheted between the icicles, the echo caused the icy chimes to jangle in a tone-deaf song, the wave of anxiety that sourced from the young Kestis girl alerted her parents.

“She’s found it,” Cal declared.

You could only imagine how Cassidy is holding up right now. That cry that the walls of the cave relayed a different message, but one thing is clear: she’s in the middle of a struggle right now, and she only has herself to depend on.

“Come on…” you mouthed, barely a noise parting from your lips.

Cassidy scaled the porous ice wall, digging the claws deeper through the layer of snow until she could hit something solid. Her arm hooked on the ledge, pulled herself up and squirmed farther away until she’s gotten her body on the ground. Her head angled up, the crystal glimmered so brightly like starlight that she had to blink away for a moment, and then returned her gaze to it afterwards.

Her legs dragged on, summoning herself towards the crystal. When she got close enough, the crystal nestled between her fingers and she gave it a good, quick tug. She let the yellow shard roll on the whole of her palm, her heart leapt and she felt the air in her lungs warm up. She exhaled until her breathing transitioned into a triumphant laugh.

“I got it…!” she annunciated.

The second half of the challenge was finding her way back. Seeing that some portions of the path that led her here were only a one-time use; she retraced her steps—except the stone bridge that gave way, she had to think of another way. Fortunately, she was able to improvise another bridge by Force-pushing a boulder on her left side—landing it into a clean incline for her to slide down on.

From there, things were now easy for Cassidy. She hiked the snow-caked path and found the archway from whence she came. The sight of the giant crystal in the foyer washed relief over the young one, she kept her head high in search of her parents. They appeared before her, proud smiles riddled their faces to welcome her back.

“Well done, Cassidy,” you beamed.

“You have found your kyber crystal, despite the challenges that the Force bestowed in your path. Now, it’s time for you to construct your saber.”

Her parents regrouped with her on the ground level, she followed them to the entry blocked by the mound of snow. You and Cal glanced over your shoulders, fixating your eyes on your daughter.

“Together?” Cal invited.

The child beamed, she tucked her knees and extended her arms—mimicking the posture of her parents—and mustered all the Force she could gather in her being to blast away the mound of snow that barred their exit.

The storm had subsided when they got back out in the open. The family returned to the ship, and they were greeted back by the crew members, Cassidy was especially excited to show off the tiny yellow shard that rested between her fingers. Cal beckoned her to the workbench in his old quarters and showed her the toolboxes filled with components.

“There’s so many to choose from! How will I know which one is the right one for me?”

“You meditate on it as you build, trust your feelings. The Force will help you,” he directed. “It will guide you to what is best for you.”

“Okay… I’ll try, Dad,”

“There’s a good girl,” he kissed her forehead. “I shall leave you to it now. May the Force be with you, Cassidy.”

First, she dug through the container of components. For each and every part she examined, she selected the ones that might have struck something in her, much like a magnetic force that attracted her to it. When it was apparent that she’s finished choosing the parts—from the sleeve down to the emitter—she laid them out in a neat, straight line one by one, with the kyber crystal at the center of it all.

She took a deep breath, relaxed her entire body and began reaching out to the Force for assistance. Even with her vision shrouded, the components moved to her whim—they fittingly connect with one another. Her crystal nestled underneath her switch, the sleeve and pommel latched together. When the final click came from the emitter, she opened her eyes and found the finished product lying in front of her.

Shaky hands cradled the completed hilt, her thumb trailed towards the switch—she hesitated for a second before pressing it—the yellow beam that hissed out of the emitter startled her, but she quickly smiled it off and stared at the golden glow of her very own lightsaber. Finally giving it a feel, she waved it carefully in the narrow space, it hummed to the motion of its owner and she fancied a single basic spin with it.

Her heart jumped with joy, butterflies fluttered all over her stomach, and she celebrated this victory within herself. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of the bright golden beam.

“I did it… I DID IT!!” she squealed from the room, not knowing that her entire family overheard her little celebration.

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thegayfromrulid · 6 years ago

Note

If you're still taking fic-requests: (Kirito x Eugeo)Could you write something about Eugeos reaction when he sees Kirito with his female avatar in GGO the first time?

I hope I didn’t take too long, anon! There’s been crazy things happening! Aaah. I’ve been reposting these on AO3, so I’ll post it there, too! (One-shot under the cut).

Unlikethe world he came from, this world was filled with grey. Everything was hard,metallic, and gave off this feeling that if it were a real environment, itmight be difficult to breathe. It had been alarming, to put it mildly, to bebrought out of the Underworld and placed in what Kirito called the “real world”so suddenly—culture shock, strange technology, a lack of sacred arts, and otheroddities had overwhelmed Eugeo. But this. This was taking it a step furtherthan that shock. And Kirito wasn’t presently here to assist him.

Besidehim stood a girl with mint-colored hair. Her name was Sinon in this world. InKirito’s world, her name was Asada Shino and her hair was almost as dark ashis. He’d almost not recognized her in this form, but when her mouth opened, heknew instantly that he’d found the right person. She smiled gently at him.

“It seemslike you figured out how to dive okay,” she said. “I’m presuming Kirito gaveyou the rundown. Do you want me to help you get a suitable starter gun andpractice shooting at some targets?”

Eugeoshook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to learn, but the point of divinginto this game was mostly for Kirito, not for his friend. He still didn’t knowthis girl too well. Going off and doing things without Kirito seemed weird. Shemight be the veteran player of Gun Gale Online, but he still felt morecomfortable with Kirito around.

“I-If it’salright with you, I’d like to wait for Kirito before we run off,” he said.

Sinongave him a curious look, but she nodded.

“Okay,”she said. “He seems to be running a bit late. Maybe he’s caught up with somehomework.”

That madeEugeo giggle a bit. School-related tardiness didn’t seem much like Kirito, especiallyif it wasn’t related to swords. He wondered if there was a school subject inthe real world that really captured his attention as much as sword forms hadback in the Underworld. But either way, his tardiness left this awkward space whereEugeo and Sinon were forced to talk. He had to find something to discuss.

“So…youlook different in this world,” Eugeo said. “Does Kirito look very different?”

Atthis, she let out a chuckle.

“Well,he’s at least still dressed in all black, if that helps,” Sinon said. “You lookpretty much the same as your real face. How did you manage that?”

Heshrugged.

“ThenKirito should be easy to pick out!” he said.

Sinonsmirked.

“Do youwant me to tell you, or do you want to try and pick him out when he heads overhere?” she asked.

The wayshe put it made it sound like something looked very off about how Kirito lookedin this world. It clearly amused her. Maybe he’d play along with this game andtry to guess which person was Kirito before he walked over here. The troublewas that most of the people milling around this area seemed to be big,tough-looking men. Eugeo certainly hoped Kirito wouldn’t have an appearancelike that. Since he knew the game randomly selected how you looked, he shouldn’tbe looking for someone that looks exactly like him.

“Is theheight about the same?” he asked.

Shehummed, as if considering if that would be a giveaway or not for a moment. Thenshe smiled at him and winked.

“Slightlyshorter,” she said.

Hefrowned. That wasn’t very helpful. All of the men in the vicinity looked prettytall. As he skimmed the crowd, a player walked right up to them and waved,flashing a friendly smile. From the way the avatar looked, Eugeo presumed the playerwas a girl. Long, flowing black hair. A slender, delicate-looking frame. Bigeyes with pronounced eyelashes. Dressed in—

“No.”

“What?”Sinon asked.

Eugeoshook his head.

“You’remessing with me, this can’t be him!”

Theavatar in front of him tilted their head and frowned.

“Issomething wrong, Eugeo?”

That voiceunmistakably belonged to Kirito. Eugeo didn’t know how to react to this. Helooked like a woman. It was so convincingly female that he was almost unable tohandle the fact that it was Kirito’s voice coming out of that mouth instead ofa higher-pitched one. When he opened his mouth, finally, he did his part not tobe rude.

“Well,I was just thrown off, this doesn’t seem to be your preferred look,” he said.

It wasan honest assessment. Kirito didn’t like to be referred to as feminine.

“It wasa random roll, okay?” he muttered. “But that stats are decent enough that Ikept it.”

Eugeolaughed. Now that sounded more likeKirito. He reached over and grasped Kirito’s hand, giving him a smile.

“Youlook ridiculous,” he said.

Kiritogrumbled about something and stared at the ground. Sinon rolled her eyes andpointed in the direction of a building behind her.

“Alright,did ya’ll log on to flirt or are we going to go and get Eugeo some starterequipment that’s way better than what he’s currently wearing?” she asked. “Becauseif you’re going to just stand there and flirt, I can go clear a dungeon orsomething.”

Kiritoperked back up, ready to defend himself.

“I’llhave you know that I can flirt andhelp Eugeo get sorted out at the same time!” he said.

Shakinghis head, Eugeo followed Kirito and Sinon into the building as they bickeredover this and that. He wasn’t really focused on what they were saying. He wastoo busy gazing at Kirito’s avatar. He had to admit, he didn’t look bad likethis. Some of his hair slipped in front of his ear. Eugeo reached over andgently tucked it back in place. Kirito stopped and turned to look at Eugeo,blushing.

“Y-youdon’t have to do that,” he said.

Eugeosmiled.

“Longhair looks good on you,” he said.

Kirito’sblushing intensified.

“Youthink so?” he said.

Frombehind them, Sinon huffed pointedly.

“Boys,would you PLEASE hurry up?” she said.

Theyboth turned their heads in her direction, blinking at her.

“Honestly,would you rather just log out and go flirt somewhere else?” she muttered. “I’vegot better things to do if you two want to just go on a silly little datetogether.”

Kiritofrowned.

“We’re coming,Si—”

Eugeoplaced a hand on Kirito’s shoulder.

“Actually,you can go on a head, Sinon,” he said.

Raisinghis brow, Kirito gave Eugeo a funny look as he kept talking.

“We’llcatch up with you later. Kirito and I will do fine on our own. Don’t worryabout us, okay?”

Sherolled her eyes, but she nodded at Eugeo’s words and hurried off back into the city.Her only comment back was that she had better not come back to find Eugeo also wielding a photon sword. The momentshe was out of sight, Eugeo turned to Kirito and gave him a quick peck on thecheek.

“Evendressed like this, you’re cute,” he admitted.

Kiritofrowned.

“Areyou messing with me because you’re secretly internally laughing?” he asked.

Shakinghis head, Eugeo took both of Kirito’s hands in his and flashed him hisbrightest smile. Now, they were alone and he didn’t have to feel as awkwardaround Sinon.

“Whydon’t you show me how to play, then?” he asked, diverting the topic.

Hereceived a smirk that told him the topic would be reopened later.

“Alright,”Kirito said. “Let’s get you some armor. Maybe we can make you look super cuteand girly, too!”

“Wha—Kirito!”

Hesilently prayed that that wouldn’t be the case.

#ask #fanfic request #anon #yujikiri #sao fanfiction #kirito #kirigaya kazuto #eugeo #shino asada #sinon #GGO

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starling-coven · 6 years ago

Text

What is Wicca?

Hello, Bront/Briar here. I figured, to start this off, I should do the basics. So, what is Wicca?

If you put 1000 wiccans in a room and asked each this question, you'd get 1000 different answers. But there are some things that you will find common in most answers.

1. The Rede

The wiccan rede is basically the wiccan Bible, it is the code of conduct for wiccans. There are two versions, the long rede, which goes like this :

Bide within the Law you must, in perfect Love and perfect Trust.

Live you must and let to live, fairly take and fairly give.

For tread the Circle thrice about to keep unwelcome spirits out.

To bind the spell well every time, let the spell be said in rhyme.

Light of eye and soft of touch, speak you little, listen much.

Honor the Old Ones in deed and name,

let love and light be our guides again.

Deosil go by the waxing moon, chanting out the joyful tune.

Widdershins go when the moon doth wane,

and the werewolf howls by the dread wolfsbane.

When the Lady's moon is new, kiss the hand to Her times two.

When the moon rides at Her peak then your heart's desire seek.

Heed the North winds mighty gale, lock the door and trim the sail.

When the Wind blows from the East, expect the new and set the feast.

When the wind comes from the South, love will kiss you on the mouth.

When the wind whispers from the West, all hearts will find peace and rest.

Nine woods in the Cauldron go, burn them fast and burn them slow.

Birch in the fire goes to represent what the Lady knows.

Oak in the forest towers with might, in the fire it brings the God's

insight. Rowan is a tree of power causing life and magick to flower.

Willows at the waterside stand ready to help us to the Summerland.

Hawthorn is burned to purify and to draw faerie to your eye.

Hazel-the tree of wisdom and learning adds its strength to the bright fire burning.

White are the flowers of Apple tree that brings us fruits of fertility.

Grapes grow upon the vine giving us both joy and wine.

Fir does mark the evergreen to represent immortality seen.

Elder is the Lady's tree burn it not or cursed you'll be.

Four times the Major Sabbats mark in the light and in the dark.

As the old year starts to wane the new begins, it's now Samhain.

When the time for Imbolc shows watch for flowers through the snows.

When the wheel begins to turn soon the Beltane fires will burn.

As the wheel turns to Lamas night power is brought to magick rite.

Four times the Minor Sabbats fall use the Sun to mark them all.

When the wheel has turned to Yule light the log the Horned One rules.

In the spring, when night equals day time for Ostara to come our way.

When the Sun has reached it's height time for Oak and Holly to fight.

Harvesting comes to one and all when the Autumn Equinox does fall.

Heed the flower, bush, and tree by the Lady blessed you'll be.

Where the rippling waters go cast a stone, the truth you'll know.

When you have and hold a need, harken not to others greed.

With a fool no season spend or be counted as his friend.

Merry Meet and Merry Part bright the cheeks and warm the heart.

Mind the Three-fold Laws you should three times bad and three times good.

When misfortune is enow wear the star upon your brow.

Be true in love this you must do unless your love is false to you.

These Eight words the Rede fulfill:

"An Ye Harm None, Do What Ye Will"

Much of this has to do with omens and spellwork, which is a topic worthy of its own post. You'll also find our list of sabbats (holidays) as well as the threefold law, which is similar to the idea of karma, if you harm someone you will be harmed three times worse, if you help someone you will be helped three times better. It also mentions the God and the Lady. These two come from the first religions, and all we know about them comes from ancient cave paintings. The modern Goddess and God are like yin and yang. The God is the sun and the Goddess is the moon, oposing ideas will be assigned to each. Though the definition of opposition, there isn't one that is good or one that is evil, even though the Goddess is often seen as the greater of the two powers. The God is often referred to as the Goddess's consort. It is because of these gods that many wiccan alters are divided into masculine and feminine sides. And at the end you have the core of this entire poem "An ye harm none do what ye will" which is exactly what it sounds like, don't hurt people.

The second version of the rede is the short rede which goes like this:

"An ye harm none do what ye will'

That's it. Very simple and easy to remember.

2. The rule of three

I know, this is part of the long rede, but hear me out. Even wiccans who follow the short rede or don't follow any form of the rede can believe in the rule of three. We're a very fluid bunch when crafting our personal docterines, and we are proud of that. We have a whole branch for wiccans who don't follow the rules of any other branch. But that's for another post.

3.Nature

We love it, it is our place of worship, yes, we know we are tree loving hippies and we don't care.

When we are outside we are close to our gods, that's all it really is. If a wiccan doesn't follow the God and the Goddess, chances are they follow some other set of gods that are hevily tied to nature. I've personally seen a lot of Heathanistic and Hellenistic wiccans, who are wiccans who follow the Norse Pantheon and the Greek Pantheon respectively.

4. Polytheisim

This means that we believe in more than one god, whether it's 2, 22, or 102.

These are the trends you'll see. In my personal opinion, a wiccan is a nature focused polytheist who recognizes the Wiccan Sabbats, but that is just my personal opinion. I'd like to hear yours. Go ahead and comment. Did I miss something? Get something dead wrong? Put the correction down there too. Did I say something confusing? Put your question down there, I'd love to help. Blessed be!

#wiccan #wicca #pagan wicca #pagan #paganism

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porchwood · 7 years ago

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Crackpot Theory: Gale was going to propose to Katniss at the beginning of THG.

Disclaimer: I’ve never taken part in any official THG reread/discussion and I essentially read the book in isolation, so anything I say in these posts may well have been discussed and dismissed years ago.

While mulling over Ch 1 this time around (this is why I’m no longer a quick reader, lol), a couple of things leapt out at me and made my brain go:

Exhibit A: (This was the biggie.) Gale meets Katniss at “their place” in the woods with a loaf of expensive bakery bread. "Fine bread like this is for special occasions,” Katniss explains in the narrative. (And while this reaping being Gale’s last might well qualify the day as a “special occasion,” neither of them remark on it, which I find curious.) We know that they can buy “good bread” from a vendor at the Hob - in fact, they do so that very morning on their trading rounds - yet Gale made a special trip to the bakery at the crack of dawn on Reaping Day (an extra expenditure of time, energy, and resources) for a fine loaf expressly to share with Katniss. This purchase may have necessitated an extra trip to the woods that morning (before dawn and without Katniss) to hunt a squirrel to trade for said bread, unless Gale managed to snare a squirrel inside the fence (also, it seems odd to me that he’d be trading with squirrel since that tends to be Katniss’s currency, in light of her superior marksmanship). Or maybe, if this was an especially significant loaf, Gale paid cash for it while telling Katniss that it cost “just a squirrel”...

And yes, I know it’s Reaping Day so special treats are customary, but answer me this: Why make a trading visit (without your hunting partner) to get top-of-the-line bread (to share with your partner) even though you could buy perfectly “good” bread for much less at the Hob, which you will do shortly thereafter when making your “official” trading rounds (with your partner) later that morning?

Exhibit B: After slicing the bread (and spreading the goat cheese, etc), Gale initiates the “We could run away together” conversation. At this point Katniss is gazing down into the valley, savoring the beautiful day and the delicious food, while Gale’s out-of-nowhere remark implies that he thinks she’s on the same wavelength (i.e., “the two of us could make it out there”). To Katniss’s everlasting credit, her internal reaction is: “I don’t know how to respond. The idea is so preposterous.” :) :) :)

Exhibit C: Gale amends his wild suggestion with “if we didn’t have so many kids” - to which Katniss immediately responds, “I never want to have kids.” There’s a whole post in that exchange alone, but to sum up: Gale describes their predicament in an unusually suggestive manner, if you will (bless you @ghtlovesthg for phrasing it like that!). He could have just as easily said something like “if we didn’t have little siblings,” or “if we weren’t responsible for so many other lives” but instead he groups the pair of them like a married couple and describes their siblings as though they were their own children (we see what you’re trying to do there, Gale...). Equally interesting ( @ghtlovesthg pointed this out too) is that Katniss, exquisitely oblivious in many circumstances, must subliminally pick up on his intimation somehow, because she consciously knows exactly what he’s referring to and yet the next words out of her mouth are “I never want to have kids.”

Exhibit D: Gale tries again, more overtly: “I might. If I didn’t live here. [i.e., if we were living in the woods together]” (And now all I can think of is “Close your eyes, start a journey to a strange new world / Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before...” - a la “Music of the Night.” :D)

Which enticement - delightfully - only serves to irritate Katniss and she shoots him down with, “But you do,” to which his response is a snapped, “Forget it.”

Sidenote: For some reason, I suddenly find it very funny indeed that as Katniss is processing the preceding exchange, she thinks “if he wants kids, Gale won’t have any trouble finding a wife.” Not, “Oh no, Gale might get married?!” She admits to being jealous of him as her hunting partner (which I think is true), but it doesn’t seem to concern (or indeed, involve) her one iota that he might be looking for a wife and mother of his children. :) :) :)

Exhibit E: However “flatly,” Gale tells Katniss to “wear something pretty” for the reaping. This could simply be sarcasm or even a riff on his compliment to Madge (”Pretty dress” - which could be the subject of a whole ‘nother post in itself! ;D), but it’s an interesting remark in light of everything that’s transpired between them that morning.

Exhibit F: When Katniss finally spots Gale at the reaping, he’s looking at her with “the ghost of a smile” (an uncommon expression on his face). It’s in the context of Haymitch and Effie’s altercation on the stage, so there is a lightness and even humor to the moment, but we also know that he sent Katniss home to look pretty and she came back looking beautiful. And that at some point after they make eye contact, “his face darkens and he looks away.” Which could be typical Gale anger, but again: it’s curious in light of their interactions earlier that day.

Exhibit G: “Katniss, remember I -” Maybe it’s awful of me, but I enjoy that Katniss seems to have no idea what he was trying to tell her while a reader never had any doubt. (It’s not just me, surely?)

Further, this was Gale’s final (i.e., 18-year-old) reaping. While there’s nothing in canon to explicitly support this, there are various fanon traditions about couples getting married as soon as they “age out” of the reaping, and Gale wants a wife and kids. Had Katniss not been reaped, would he have brought up the idea of an engagement (with a marriage to follow after her final reaping)? Do you think he literally wanted her to run off to the woods with him, or was the suggestion more in the way of trying to make her see him as a romantic/marital prospect? Women respond more positively to romantic cues after they’ve been fed, after all (this is why Everlark was destined to be endgame! :D) and Gale brought an awfully fine treat to feed his prospective mate before reminding her of what a great hunter and provider he is. (And now I’m thinking about that Superb Bird of Paradise courtship video where the male does his bizarre dance and the female - after watching him in “WTF??” fashion - ultimately just hops away. In the words of David Attenborough, “It’s hard not to feel deflated when even your best isn’t good enough”!)

What if Gale was hoping for a secret toasting in the woods that morning and that’s why he went out of his way to obtain toasting-caliber bread before meeting Katniss in the woods?? (And yes, I know it’s a crackpot theory, hence the title. But it’s curious nonetheless!)

#everlarkreadalong #backtopanem #gale hawthorne #crackpot theories #the hunger games #hunger games reread

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loveofyhwh · 6 years ago

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November 14: Lamentations 1; Revelation 6; Psalm 119:49–56; Proverbs 27:21–22

New Post has been published on https://loveofyhwh.com/november-14-lamentations-1-revelation-6-psalm-11949-56-proverbs-2721-22/

November 14: Lamentations 1; Revelation 6; Psalm 119:49–56; Proverbs 27:21–22

Old Testament:

Lamentations 1

Lamentations 1 (Listen)

How Lonely Sits the City

1 How lonely sits the city that was full of people! How like a widow has she become, she who was great among the nations! She who was a princess among the provinces has become a slave. 2 She weeps bitterly in the night, with tears on her cheeks; among all her lovers she has none to comfort her; all her friends have dealt treacherously with her; they have become her enemies. 3 Judah has gone into exile because of afflictionOr under affliction‘>1 and hard servitude; she dwells now among the nations, but finds no resting place; her pursuers have all overtaken her in the midst of her distress.Or in the narrow passes‘>2 4 The roads to Zion mourn, for none come to the festival; all her gates are desolate; her priests groan; her virgins have been afflicted,Septuagint, Old Latin dragged away‘>3 and she herself suffers bitterly. 5 Her foes have become the head; her enemies prosper, because the LORD has afflicted her for the multitude of her transgressions; her children have gone away, captives before the foe. 6 From the daughter of Zion all her majesty has departed. Her princes have become like deer that find no pasture; they fled without strength before the pursuer. 7 Jerusalem remembers in the days of her affliction and wandering all the precious things that were hers from days of old. When her people fell into the hand of the foe, and there was none to help her, her foes gloated over her; they mocked at her downfall. 8 Jerusalem sinned grievously; therefore she became filthy; all who honored her despise her, for they have seen her nakedness; she herself groans and turns her face away. 9 Her uncleanness was in her skirts; she took no thought of her future;Or end‘>4 therefore her fall is terrible; she has no comforter. “O LORD, behold my affliction, for the enemy has triumphed!” 10 The enemy has stretched out his hands over all her precious things; for she has seen the nations enter her sanctuary, those whom you forbade to enter your congregation. 11 All her people groan as they search for bread; they trade their treasures for food to revive their strength. “Look, O LORD, and see, for I am despised.” 12 “Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by? Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow, which was brought upon me, which the LORD inflicted on the day of his fierce anger. 13 “From on high he sent fire; into my bonesSeptuagint; Hebrew bones and‘>5 he made it descend; he spread a net for my feet; he turned me back; he has left me stunned, faint all the day long. 14 “My transgressions were boundThe meaning of the Hebrew is uncertain‘>6 into a yoke; by his hand they were fastened together; they were set upon my neck; he caused my strength to fail; the Lord gave me into the hands of those whom I cannot withstand. 15 “The Lord rejected all my mighty men in my midst; he summoned an assembly against me to crush my young men; the Lord has trodden as in a winepress the virgin daughter of Judah. 16 “For these things I weep; my eyes flow with tears; for a comforter is far from me, one to revive my spirit; my children are desolate, for the enemy has prevailed.” 17 Zion stretches out her hands, but there is none to comfort her; the LORD has commanded against Jacob that his neighbors should be his foes; Jerusalem has become a filthy thing among them. 18 “The LORD is in the right, for I have rebelled against his word; but hear, all you peoples, and see my suffering; my young women and my young men have gone into captivity. 19 “I called to my lovers, but they deceived me; my priests and elders perished in the city, while they sought food to revive their strength. 20 “Look, O LORD, for I am in distress; my stomach churns; my heart is wrung within me, because I have been very rebellious. In the street the sword bereaves; in the house it is like death. 21 “They heardSeptuagint, Syriac Hear‘>7 my groaning, yet there is no one to comfort me. All my enemies have heard of my trouble; they are glad that you have done it. You have broughtSyriac Bring‘>8 the day you announced; now let them be as I am. 22 “Let all their evildoing come before you, and deal with them as you have dealt with me because of all my transgressions; for my groans are many, and my heart is faint.”

Footnotes

[1] 1:3 Or under affliction [2] 1:3 Or in the narrow passes [3] 1:4 Septuagint, Old Latin dragged away [4] 1:9 Or end [5] 1:13 Septuagint; Hebrew bones and [6] 1:14 The meaning of the Hebrew is uncertain [7] 1:21 Septuagint, Syriac Hear [8] 1:21 Syriac Bring

(ESV)

New Testament:

Revelation 6

Revelation 6 (Listen)

The Seven Seals

6 Now I watched when the Lamb opened one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures say with a voice like thunder, “Come!” 2 And I looked, and behold, a white horse! And its rider had a bow, and a crown was given to him, and he came out conquering, and to conquer.

3 When he opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature say, “Come!” 4 And out came another horse, bright red. Its rider was permitted to take peace from the earth, so that people should slay one another, and he was given a great sword.

5 When he opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, “Come!” And I looked, and behold, a black horse! And its rider had a pair of scales in his hand. 6 And I heard what seemed to be a voice in the midst of the four living creatures, saying, “A quartGreek choinix, a dry measure equal to about a quart‘>1 of wheat for a denarius,A denarius was a day’s wage for a laborer“>2 and three quarts of barley for a denarius, and do not harm the oil and wine!”

7 When he opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, “Come!” 8 And I looked, and behold, a pale horse! And its rider’s name was Death, and Hades followed him. And they were given authority over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by wild beasts of the earth.

9 When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the witness they had borne. 10 They cried out with a loud voice, “O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?” 11 Then they were each given a white robe and told to rest a little longer, until the number of their fellow servants and their brothersOr brothers and sisters. In New Testament usage, depending on the context, the plural Greek word adelphoi (translated “brothers”) may refer either to brothers or to brothers and sisters‘>3 should be complete, who were to be killed as they themselves had been.

12 When he opened the sixth seal, I looked, and behold, there was a great earthquake, and the sun became black as sackcloth, the full moon became like blood, 13 and the stars of the sky fell to the earth as the fig tree sheds its winter fruit when shaken by a gale. 14 The sky vanished like a scroll that is being rolled up, and every mountain and island was removed from its place. 15 Then the kings of the earth and the great ones and the generals and the rich and the powerful, and everyone, slaveFor the contextual rendering of the Greek word doulos, see Preface‘>4 and free, hid themselves in the caves and among the rocks of the mountains, 16 calling to the mountains and rocks, “Fall on us and hide us from the face of him who is seated on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb, 17 for the great day of their wrath has come, and who can stand?”

Footnotes

[1] 6:6 Greek choinix, a dry measure equal to about a quart [2] 6:6 A denarius was a day’s wage for a laborer [3] 6:11 Or brothers and sisters. In New Testament usage, depending on the context, the plural Greek word adelphoi (translated “brothers”) may refer either to brothers or to brothers and sisters [4] 6:15 For the contextual rendering of the Greek word doulos, see Preface

(ESV)

Psalm:

Psalm 119:49–56

Psalm 119:49–56 (Listen)

Zayin

49 Remember your word to your servant, in which you have made me hope. 50 This is my comfort in my affliction, that your promise gives me life. 51 The insolent utterly deride me, but I do not turn away from your law. 52 When I think of your rules from of old, I take comfort, O LORD. 53 Hot indignation seizes me because of the wicked, who forsake your law. 54 Your statutes have been my songs in the house of my sojourning. 55 I remember your name in the night, O LORD, and keep your law. 56 This blessing has fallen to me, that I have kept your precepts.

(ESV)

Proverb:

Proverbs 27:21–22

Proverbs 27:21–22 (Listen)

21 The crucible is for silver, and the furnace is for gold, and a man is tested by his praise. 22 Crush a fool in a mortar with a pestle along with crushed grain, yet his folly will not depart from him.

(ESV)

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kateemmerson · 5 years ago

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Honoring the Call of Closure

A pilgrimage to the heart of the lonely gap that exists between NO LONGER … and … NOT YET.

If you find yourself reading this post, then you probably already know me and my work and want to know what I have been up to, or someone has suggested you come and read it. Don’t curse them when you see the length – they have their reason and must love you enough to give you this nudge along your path. If you want the shortened Haiku (5-7-5) version so you can get the gist and move on with your day – here goes:

Pause and honor life

Connect to the sacred pulse

Embrace threads of love

This blog is a bit (well um, a lot) longer than normal, so grab a cuppa’ or a tall glass of something delicious to drink, and come walk with me for a wee while.

We are off to a remote island…on a pilgrimage. Not an island holiday – but a deep immersion to challenge life head-on, and to be curious about what I might find there. Scary as hell, but exciting as heck.

I would like to mention right up front that this feels like a deeply personal sharing. I feel called to document and attempt to do justice to the mammoth journey I have recently immersed in. While I tackle everything I embark on in life with mindful awareness, (along with a massive dose of salt and humor), this one has been exceptionally profound. Trust your gut whether to read on or not…

I guess it’s the layered convergence of a few things: the location I journeyed to for my pilgrimage, what I came to do and why, and the timing of it. I’m not simply referring to July 2020, stuck with the rest of the world before, during and after the ‘easing up” of restrictions, but more so from a personal juncture in my life and all the threads that were weaving together at this time. Or more accurately the threads that were “un-raveling and un-weaving simultaneously” at 52 years old.

There are two forms of courage in this world. One that demands we jump into action with our armor on. The other demands that we strip ourselves bare-naked and surrender. Bravery is a curious thing. Jeff Brown

#The Quiet Beckons

Are you perhaps there right now and also needing to stop a while to sit with the un-weavings in your life?

These moments in time are what many traditions call ‘initiations’. A time to walk through the doorway of personal transformation. A new chapter. To re-evaluate. Reset. To go into the cave no matter what you find there. Many loosely refer to this a time of retreat (but some folk think that a retreat is simply a time of rest in a lovely setting – that is a holiday). When these particular times beckon us, we have to go directly INTO the fire in order to be transformed. There is no walking around it. No pussyfooting or side-stepping. Perhaps for a while, you can ignore or pause it. But not indefinitely, as the rumble and rattle of the call will inch deeper and deeper into your cells, relentlessly. If repeatedly put off, then life will figure a way to throw you down in your own tracks in order to get your attention. It could be in the way of illness, death, divorce, financial ruin, being retrenched, or global scale disasters – hello virus. A lot of the time it just feels overwhelmingly scary, inappropriately timed and miraculously something else will just win the battle for priority. For now!

Lack of money, time-poor, kids’ demands, partner’s needs, work obligations and our inner voice protesting that we cannot possibly indulge in and follow the call to ”take time out”. I have often looked on enviously at those who live more within the tradition of wise cultures, where ceremony and ritual is embedded into their lives and they follow the rhythm of nature, seasons and sun, moon cycles every day. I have tried, somewhat unsuccessfully I might add, to create that for myself over the years. To carve out time to immerse in things that matter to me. To live closer to the rhythm of life. To create a little “altar” of things that matter to me when I travel. To wake up with the sun in my room and sleep early. But I have also spent five years of summers in a row, never getting the quieter rest time of winter, which can play havoc with circadian cycles. Sometimes I try and follow daily rhythm because it’s the only thing I know how to do. At other times I have been led into that journey of remembering by someone else on my path – be it partner, friend or teacher.

#My Travelling Altar

I know this for sure, we are all here to evolve, expand, learn and transform. The flip side means that it also requires the polar opposite to close out, let go, contract and move on. We need both these sides of the spectrum to fully embrace and live our highest life.

I heeded the call.

I embarked on a solo pilgrimage to a minute, remote island called Iona. It’s really a wee rock at just 1.5 miles by 3 miles where only residents are allowed cars. You can’t even walk all the circumference of the island, as it is so wild, craggy and difficult in places. With only 120 or so permanent residents who brave life all year round, this swells massively to about 175 000 pilgrims and visitors annually (not in Covid times of course). Some visit for just a few hours between ferry crossings from Mull, just time enough to walk the ancient path from pier to the Abbey that dominates the landscape – to taste the wild isle and stand awestruck in front of the carved Celtic crosses or visit King’s graves. Perhaps be lucky enough to grab the famous cream tea at the Argyll Hotel, or stare at the Sound of Iona scanning for dolphins and seals from the St Columba’s garden tables, munching an organic salad and local “hogget” burger. Nowadays you can even rent a lovely bike. Ha-ha – be warned – they have no gears and you have to backpedal to break, but you get the hang of it pretty fast and it’s a total delight to wheel past the shore and explore the island.

But for these day-trippers it’s more of a fleeting visit to tick off the bucket list. It may plant the seed to promise to return … one day. But it in no ways allows you to soak up the healing energy here. One of my favorite times of day is when the last ferry has backed off the pier and you can feel the island exhale and settle into its silent womb again. Everyone you see from then on has the privilege of staying put for the night.

#Carved Crosses Loom in the Landscape

A warm envelope of quiet love and immense possibility descends. Such is the lure of this sacred isle. A wee isle with monumental power. Within the wild elementals of this ancient Celtic land with deep Christian roots, it is said that the “veil between the two worlds is very thin”. Meaning you always feel more closely connected to the spiritual world here. It feels more accessible no matter how disconnected you are when you arrive. If you have never heard of Iona, I lovingly laugh and mean no disrespect when I say it’s the “ass-end of nowhere”, whereas in actual fact it feels like the center of the universe to those of us who venture here. You usually feel “called” to visit to be honest, as you don’t just happen upon this island one day. Getting here is somewhat of a mammoth pilgrimage all in itself. Part of the shedding process of the external skin.

When the ancient mystery of Iona has beckoned, the journey starts the moment you make the decision to answer that call. The energy starts weaving from that point on. But when you first set physical eyes upon it from the pier at Fionnphort on the Ross of Mull – it’s easy to feel a bit let down and disappointed. SO SMALL? That’s it? This is what I traveled all this way for? Mmm – don’t be so easily fooled by appearances.

When you have rested your weary head under these stars, it’s impossible to leave as the same person that arrived. Ever!

So I have penned this blog for heartfelt personal reasons, as a way to capture some essence of this recent experience for myself. Firstly to inform myself by writing it down, which creates another layer of processing it all and living it again. And secondly, if by reading it, you too happen to be inspired to embark on a similar kind of pilgrimage or retreat process one day, or this becomes your beckoning call to Iona– then how lovely will that be for both of us?

To put my experience bluntly – I feel like a snake that has shed a few skins.

I think I look the same, sound the same, walk the same, laugh the same and eat and drink just as much as ever, but I FEEL different. The old adage of “pull yourself towards yourself lass” rings in my ears and my heart. That was the point after all. I have not been on some massive diet, makeover or had a new photoshoot. Quite the opposite to be honest as it’s been a deep-dive journey into the cave of CLOSURE. Wild, windswept hair, zero make-up most days, crying, laughing, dancing, singing to recently shawn sheep and mostly sitting, staring at the splendid views and …being. Finding a spot to plonk down and do what I came to do. The inner work. Usually clad with about 5 layers of clothes on for all sorts of rapidly changing weather. A vest, gym top, jacket, gilet-puffer and a supposedly waterproof outer later. (Yes mum, it isn’t quite doing its job and I’m often a cold, wet mess). The next minute I’ll be stripped down to my vest only, and then it’s all piled back on again in a flash. Plenty of workouts in that process, at least ten times day!

I had one directive – do the inner work in rain, gales or shine. A three-week gap. I needed to get away with myself, to be by myself, to fall in love with myself again. There was a much deeper purpose to this specific retreat.

I had found myself in the challenging place of NO LONGER …but…NOT YET!

My watchful #AngelOwl

What do you say when someone asks you what you “do”, and you no longer love most of what once brought you deep joy, satisfaction and energy? When you feel that even as the words come out your mouth it’s confusing because there are so many facets to what you do? I was watching and witnessing words come out my mouth that simply didn’t resonate with me anymore. Over the years, my business has at different times been very niched, then morphed and generalized, only to be re-niched and rebranded again, then generalized ad Infinitum. I understand that the natural expansion and contraction of business emulates nature. And here I was at the point of needing to contract once again.

Consciously contract. The bigger the expansion, the bigger the contraction, right?

I was starting to feel increasingly confused by myself; too fragmented, disjointed and discombobulated. Honestly, a bit bored of my work, myself and a little disinterested in life. It’s a real killer for me to confess that. I was all over the place both literally and figuratively and just way too busy. But busy with what exactly? There were immense pockets of joy and delight too – don’t get me wrong. It was just that whenever I “hovered” over my life and looked in from the outside, I knew that it was NOT what I wanted to be feeling, doing or living into anymore. Something was shifting but I hadn’t caught up with myself yet.

I truly believe that just because you ONCE loved doing something, loved your work/career/business, loved a home, or your country, loved another person, etc., that it doesn’t mean you still do love it. Or even if you do still love it now, it doesn’t automatically mean that you always will feel the same way in the future. Yet we want to hold onto that idea for some reason.

Never letting go.

Fear of moving on.

Hold on tight now.

That realization that you once DID love it in past tense doesn’t make it wrong that you no longer do love it. Or that it was a waste of time or a bad decision. What if it simply means you no longer love what you once did? Just because you are brilliant at something doesn’t mean you still love to do it. What if that “thing” has just run its course, had its time, done its job and now it’s an opportunity to move on. Can it hold the space of both – you used to love it and simply no longer do. Except it never feels that simple as we have to dismantle it all somehow. Piece by piece.

It’s time to embrace the gap that exists after “no longer?” And the only way we finally reach the gap is to honor the parts that are no longer.

But that’s quite difficult to explain to other folk. Even more so at this specific time in our collective, worldwide experience of the pandemic. Such horrid pain, brutal economic crisis, people’s lives falling apart or lives ending in greater numbers right now. Where the current feeling and directive is that we should be bloody grateful for any work we have and do what we can to keep it, right?

Definitely NOT a time to be choosing, re-evaluating, assessing life and not working as much. It’s the time to HOLD ON and sit tight. Or what if this is THE PERFECT TIME because of it?

More so than ever I feel we are being called to live into our truth, our dreams, our yearnings and what makes our hearts sing. To do what we can to pursue our passions and find a way to need less stuff along the way. You got that lesson from Covid right? How much of the nonsense we consume and buy has not much meaning after all –and in fact family, health, connection, and heart stuff is what really matters? Can we finally need less stuff, but choose to experience life more?

I appreciate that right now many folk are up against the wall trying to make ends meet, or fight for their lives. Do more, earn more, feed families, and handle heartache of separation and losing jobs.

We are holding on, digging deep, and sitting tight. Panicking. Feeling deep pain and loss.

But I often choose to go against the grain – or let’s rather say that it chooses me. As much as I feel I too should be “panicking” or anxious about what is next, what is my work going to look like, where in the world is next, will a partner come along, will I ever afford to buy a home in a Euro-based economy after South Africa and how am I going to survive if I am walking away from so much I have done for the past 17 years. Those are real fears to face head-on. But still, this nagging idea of just taking time to do the work would not leave me alone.

#Prayer

After being in lockdown for four months (and dealing with testing positive for Covid where I got off lightly to be honest, with just a few days of symptoms) it was time to follow this call as soon as the opportunity arose. So although I had been on forced pause along with the rest of the world, I needed a more intentional pause. I just needed to go into the cave and immerse.

I am acutely aware that the idea of taking time off might seem very self-indulgent to you – but to me it was actually a matter of sanity. Because doing this retreat and pilgrimage was not the easy option! The easy option would have been to stay hunkered down with my mum, eat delicious food and quaff vino, kick back into gear and start a new project, coaching clients, launch the next online mentorship and get cracking with booking people on our retreats for 2021. I can manufacture energy and enthusiasm to get back up, get busy and soldier on the same as always. To keep at it, be productive and out there. That’s the easier, more common choice. It always has been for me. So that left me in a quandary as over the past few years it has left me feeling flatter and flatter every time. My nickname has been KickassKate for many years – but I no longer felt like kicking my own ass into gear, or anyone else’s for that matter.

Where does that leave me, or you?

I wanted to feel the JOY and energy and be IN LOVE with all of my life again. To feel the sparkle in my eyes burst out of my body – when the truth was that was NOT how I was feeling. I was wading through sludge. A personal bog like the peaty ones here on the island. The words that were coming to me more and more, in sleep and wake, were simply …

I’m DONE!

KickassKate – NOT. Kate was tired and burnt out. No more to give to clients – what used to be my soothing balm (aka work) was just not soothing for me anymore. Dammit. I knew in my soul that I was no longer in love with all I had created, but I wanted to find a way to honor it all and take with me the parts and aspects that I DO still love.

I didn’t want to throw the proverbial baby out with the murky bathwater.

That’s why most folk don’t do it. In fact, for about three years on and off I hadn’t been doing it. I’d been tinkering with it – but not immersing. I had been feeling it, needing it, yearning for it, but not quite yet doing it all. I activated some aspects of contracting (vs. expanding) and saying NO – like selling off one part of my business to a beautiful client who is loving it all into better existence again. Or by deciding not to re-certify with an international organization to deliver their material. A tough one, as I love the organization and it had afforded me some incredible experiences around the world by running high-end retreats for their forums, or doing 5-star events with them. I was also “contracting” by not taking on as many coaching clients and referring them out to trusted colleagues. But it didn’t feel drastic enough and I didn’t love enough of the elements I was still choosing to keep in my busy work bundle. And there was the other stuff going on for me too… that’s life!

MY LIFE WAS COLLIDING…

I desperately needed to re-look my business and work passion

It was time to embrace no longer being part of a “we” and facing life in a new country as an “I” – a real rift in identity.

I was bidding farewell to the Rainbow Nation country that gifted me a beautiful home since the age of 3.

#Double Rainbow Prayer

In other words, I needed to shed a few different skins all at once. A somewhat daunting triangle.

My PURPOSE for returning to this sacred isle of Iona on pilgrimage was to close out and honor this complex triangle. To disentangle and disconnect from these three aspects of life. To find a way to say goodbye to and appreciate what was no longer, so I can finally sit in that GAP that exits before what comes next. That place we often gloss over.

We don’t really get taught how to dismantle and deconstruct our life, do we?

So I came to Iona exactly one month ago today, with bravery and daftness in my wee heart, resigned to sitting on my butt no matter where I found myself on the island and DOING THE WORK.

THE PRACTICAL SIDE:

I couldn’t believe my “luck”.

Back in the UK Midlands where my Mum lives, I noticed a three-week GAP where I could take off from work without any obligations. Whoa – no obligations – what’s that? No mentorships, boot camps, coaching clients that could go on momentary pause, a new writer’s contract was all signed and sealed and thanks to Covid, no upcoming retreats to dash off to host in a far off land. The hardest part of the decision was not so much around post-Covid safety of travel to be honest – as things were easing up and opening again. The challenge was the reality of “taking time off.”Just because the gap shows itself, doesn’t mean I usually take it. I normally fill it with work, of course! You too?

It was challenging to decide to ignore emails and daring to tell/ask/beg my business partner I needed and wanted three weeks offline. We had no writing challenges, no Feedback Fridays – nobody really needed me for ANYTHING! Bliss.

As an entrepreneur, all my life, one of the hardest ideas is to take sufficient time off. Over the last five years or so, I have learned to work fewer weekends and take a bit of a break either side of big work projects, perhaps a few days here and there. But to be honest over the past 17 years, I could never go more than 3 days without looking at my computer, phone, mail or FB. And when you do what you love it’s also much easier to be ON all the time.

You can bet the fears still rushed right at me in all forms: Is it really, really safe to travel so soon? I’m eating into my money fast at the poor ZAR currency conversion. Who the hell am I to do this? What if someone needs me? (Oh please need me) What will others think blab la bla? Will mum be ok on her own – I can’t just pop back if I leave

But I started dreaming about this wee island every night and it started weaving its spell again from the moment I gave it a glance in the realm of possibility. It had been 17 years since I last set foot upon Iona!

I had no idea if or when we would really be able to travel from UK to Scotland, but I started making tentative plans. The UK and Scottish Government announced new measures, and I had to heed both restrictions. Fast forward a few weeks and I was on a train, masked up and double sanitizer on hand.

It was all a bit surreal. Only two other people on the train platform. Only 4 in the carriage to Glasgow. The first stop was a legally operating hotel in Oban, then the ferry to Mull, and next a bus across Mull where I was the ONLY passenger. I got to natter all the way to the driver. From 3 meters away of course. The poor lad had spent four months driving his bus back and forth twice every day for a 70 minute trip with no passengers: just parcels, shopping, wool and supplies for the house-bound locals. Talk about a driving meditation with no cars and just a few sheep and highland cattle to look out for on the single lane track. Suddenly having a real person to carry was such a novelty – so much so that he forgot to open the hold for my suitcase when we arrived in Fionnphort and was about to turn around and drive merrily off. Hey, wait up there Steve.

#Surreal Travel

And then there is the final Calmac ferry before you can set foot on Iona.

The power of showing up somewhere always amazes me. The initial cottage I had secured for 6 weeks had fallen through a few days before traveling. Covid measures meant they needed it back to isolate guests. I was planning 3 weeks of intense retreat and an extra 3 weeks to start writing again. So my wonderful friend, DF, back from when I worked on the island 18 years ago in the summer of 2002, kindly helped secure me a new spot. But for 2 weeks only. I knew I had to let go of all plans, anticipated outcomes and just BE THERE to allow the magic of Iona to find me – I hoped. My life motto, and specifically living location free for almost 4.5 years, is that you can’t know everything before you go.

I am now in my third accommodation and have been here for a month today!

THE PROCESS TO FREEDOM – WHAT I DID

Set time aside and had a crystal clear intention.

Told my patient business partner I was going offline and to please NOT bug me for work for three weeks (we had one wee emergency that took all of three minutes, and even did an interview as it was pure fun and delight)

Told my current coaching clients I was taking three weeks off. Eeek.

Just disappeared off FB. No big song and dance announcing what I was up to. I just did it and went offline. Biggest relief of all.

Stayed OFF email, Facebook and ALL other Social Media platforms for three weeks.

Reached out to friends and family as and when needed. I wasn’t doing a full silent retreat so was happy to interact a bit when needed. Just not with clients or work.

My phone lived on airplane mode 90% of the time.

Interacted with locals when I felt drawn to – fascinating people live here!

90% of the time, I was however on my own, in silence.

Every day I slept, walked, swam, ate, napped and read as I felt like.

I never felt compelled to listen to any music, audiobooks or such like. Just nature, wind, waves and me.

Devoured 10 books that I found in the cottage – good rollicking Scottish romances, moving memoirs, deeply powerful Shamanic books – all sorts to immerse in when I needed a break to let my process stew.

8-10 hours daily I DID MY PROCESS. And it continued in my sleep. Letting it all seep slowly into my soul.

Mostly, I reveled and rejoiced in the depths of NOT doing anything or needing to BE anywhere at any given time. No one needed anything from me. That’s pure bliss. My modus operandi was to do what I wanted when I wanted. For the first three days I also made things a bit more intense for myself. Ha – of course we have to push a bit to get results.

On the day I arrived, I shared dinner and some vino to reconnect with my friend and her partner. Armed with delicious Italian pasta and lamb ragu in my tummy, the next morning I started a rigorous 3-day water fast to kick start my body and soul. That means ONLY WATER mixed with a bit of lemon, cayenne pepper, and maple syrup (for the blood-brain barrier). I’m pretty used to some shorter fasting so it wasn’t tooooo much of a shock to my system. I was a determined little beast on a mission. After my initial water fast, I kept up intermittent fasting for about 16 hours every day to help support the inner work I was doing. And ate what I felt like for the rest of the time. No booze for the first 10 days to up the ante.

I went swimming EVERY DAY. No matter the weather!

You might think Scotland sounds drab, cold and dreary – but oh my – the color of the water up here. The astounding beauty that is the Hebridean islands. A photographer’s delight! Think intense azure blue and liquid aqua with the shimmering Iona light that bounces through it. The sound of Iona can look like sheets of silver glass, punctuated with a dolphin fin or a sailboat, or it can rage wild and thrash on the rocks, hiding the pure white sand or the craggy rocks at high tide.

But by swimming, I really just mean that I got wet in the freezing Atlantic or the Sound of Iona. Wim Hof and his cold-water therapy principles inspired me, but deep inside I am really the gal that grew up swimming in the warm Indian Ocean with the Benguela current. Toasty warm. The mild Mediterranean is my other favorite swim spot thanks to our annual Greek writing retreats. When I lived in Cape Town, I never did quite cotton on to swimming, as it was mind-numbingly cold for me. I’m just not a cold-water salmon kind of gal.

On day one, my version of swimming involved running in, plunging my body in the water, squealing and shrieking loudly and running out gasping. Probably wet for less than 3 seconds, to be honest. I thought – come on you sissy – this is a great cleansing practice. A ritual. Why don’t we try to double it every day till you get to ten minutes? Are you mad? Because now I am talking to myself out loud. Shivering. Come on – we can use the power of the water to enhance what we are trying to do here with our spirit Kate. Aaaargh ok dammit, you win, you damn voice in my head.

So the game was on, and the next day I ran in and while gasping ridiculously, I counted to 10 seconds. FAST. Day 3 – 30 seconds later made me feel like I had just run a 5 km race. The next day 4 was a big jump to 2 minutes. Then 5, 8, and 10 minutes day-by-day. In just one week I reached my 10-minute hurdle. Now I’m up to 15 minutes. It’s just about the BREATHING (ok, I still mean gasping) and counting, breath by breath. The body is incredibly resilient and adaptable. I am not in the running for any frozen lake swimming or artic jaunts, but I feel so invigorated by it. Like a little personal challenge. We won this one.

On day 4, I was looking into the mirror after thawing out in the warm shower, and SAW myself looking back at me for the first time in a very long time! Rather than simply looking in the mirror while usually putting on some mascara, moisturizer or lipstick, I was suddenly aware of ME. I truly saw ME in the reflection. I peered deeply into my own eyes (sounds so cliché) and said hello to myself at last. I had been missing for a while. Missing from myself. Missing from life.

#Daily Swimming

It was like a little jolt of reality and I felt I was back IN my body again.

I went back and looked at the Wim Hof shower challenge where they ask you to get up to 1 minute in a cold shower by the end of a MONTH. Pah – what a lark. I was officially a hard-core cold-water swimmer compared to that standard. And again when I say swim, this is not what I do in Greece when swimming 400 meters to my “rock”. Here I just dunk my body in the shallows and wallow there, head out, gasping and trying to calm my breath while staring at the view, going tingly numb. Mad huh?

I also have to confess that I swim in the nick – again purely for practical reasons. It’s not one of my fantasies playing out in any way – it’s purely because I don’t want to trudge back to my wee cottage with a dripping costume. That feels too much of a stretch in the cold, rainy, misty and wild 12-degree weather in summer. I know my limits – so I am basking in the idea of being a Scottish seal for a while, cavorting in the shallow water when no one is around :)

But for the most part, I was really living by the rhythm of my body’s needs. Or collecting beautiful rock and stones :)

I also walked and hiked every day – no matter the weather! Usually 6 kinds of weather on one day! My body just got outside and did it. I did my work as I walked. Glorious long meanders on the pathways hugging the shore. Sometimes a quick chat with a local, or a wave from afar. I walked the land from the North End (always my favorite) to the pebbled beaches of St Columba’s bay with its beautiful meditational Labyrinth (annual upkeep done with love by my same friend) as a reward after the trek. It is in this bay that you might catch a lucky glimpse of the Iona Marble or green Serpentine. I found myself watching sheep graze the “machair” golf course or merrily much on seaweed gazing out over the Atlantic en route to Port Ban, or heading up to the highest point, Dun-I.

#St Columba’s Bay – the pebbled beach to search for Iona Marble

Purple hues, electric greens and mesmerizing blues alongside dramatic greys. An artist’s dream palette. Spellbinding sunsets and days upon day of grey. Except that grey here is charcoal, black, white and silver – misty and wild. Not the soul-killing city-grey. Electrically alive grey!

Walking shifts the body and moves the soul. Padam Padam! Swimming cleanses the body and refreshes your mind – Great combo! There were so few people on the island as it was just starting to re-open post lockdown that I felt truly grateful to be here at this time.

Layered on top of the above practical aspects was the inner work. The real reason I was here after all. I was definitely not on “holiday” trying to escape post-lockdown with mum. So although I was in the most ridiculously splendid scenery possible, I was here to do my “close –out” work and heed the call for my personal pilgrimage. I had a crystal clear intention to plunge deep into my HEART.

H: Honour

E: Engage

A: Acknowledge

R: Recapitulate

T: Transform

I think of life unfolding in chapters and books. It felt like I needed to close out a few open chapters in a few different books.

In the Nagual tradition (check out Carlos Castaneda’s books) they talk about a process known as “Recapitulation”. I understand this to be a profound spiritual practice to retrieve all of your energy from the past – to help you live in this moment as a warrior of light. To be “at the ready” for whatever comes your way. To not be stuck in the past. Living lighter I guess.

You might understand this as a process commonly known as “cutting the ties that bind”. It is quite simply about finding all the aspects of yourself, your spirit, your energy, your memories that you may have left floating around the world and do some work at many levels to gather that energy back to yourself. In practical terms, this means being present, clear, at peace and un-hooked. It doesn’t mean you wish things hadn’t happened, but more that you are no longer controlled by them. You find a way to release that which is not yours and no longer serves you and wrap up all the good stuff in your heart. Very liberating. It is a long-standing practice in my life and one way I have been able to live a little lighter on the planet.

Everything we do, eat, touch, smell, experience, get hurt by, affected by, every place we visit, everything we love or hate – leaves a footprint. Stays connected to us. Some of that is good for us and some of it weighs us down. If you have ever read my CLEAR YOUR CLUTTER book, it’s all about releasing the sticky energetic connection from a place, person or object. Removing the dirt, the dross and the debris and then truly loving what you choose to keep in your home and life.

My aim was to actively look back at the last 17 years since becoming a professional life coach in the UK. That was the last time I visited Iona, so it was a full circle for me! In 2003 I went from Iona to chef in Provence, France for 3 months (yes even as a non-qualified chef!) and that summer job financed my coaching studies. I qualified as a Master Life Coach – and was one of the first Life Coaches in South Africa. I have had the most beautiful, BUSY career and business and now, in 2020, I wanted to do a massive honoring of that time.

Closure is about looking back with reflection, honor, openness and curiosity. Being willing to go deep into the cave, but not necessarily falling into a hole that is too hard to get out. It felt like a deeply profound way to cherish it all. It felt necessary yet somewhat daunting. But I was determined and resolute in my heart.

It was about RETRIEVING myself back to myself, finding all the parts of me that felt scattered, hurt, tired, depleted and heartbroken. I wanted to find a way to stop feeling so thin, torn apart, burnt out, irritated and with nothing to give anyone anymore. I had gotten to the point where I was feeling anxious and stressed about anything I was doing for work – suffering from performance anxiety, often depressed, tearful or downright sobbing, wanting to shut it all down and run away. I also wanted to go searching for and honoring the delights, the magic, and the incredible opportunities that have crossed my path. I guess it’s a bit like when an actor receives a lifetime award and everyone acknowledges what he or she has accomplished, only I came to do that for myself.

Because the truth is that I had started really questioning my ability, my self-worth, my passion. So it was time to stop, gather and sit IN IT and face it all head-on.

Even as I write this down, I know I am not doing full justice to my experience. I’m not sure words can convey the depth of my exploration – deep into my heart and recesses of my mind. Waking, sleeping, walking, swimming, resting, dreaming, walking over and over and over again with it all brimming and swirling through me. I would sit for hours in one spot staring at the ocean and just do “the process”.

I worked quite systematically in some ways through each year, from 2003 all the way up to 2020, gathering back all the threads of energy, pulling back my strength, increasing my vitality and expanding my heart. At the end of each cycle, I did some powerful writing processes to capture the essence of that time. I also re-looked areas of work over and above each year, to redo them and relook. I didn’t want to miss anything out.

Many years ago I created an “online course called Close Out Strong” which supports you to honor the year gone by in order to move in the New Year feeling lighter – well imagine that process times 17!

At the end of 12 days, I had brought myself up to present time. I had walked back and revisited every single:

Home and office de-cluttered Clients coached Retreats hosted Mastermind facilitated Workshops or trainings delivered Online courses written and run Interviews given and articles penned Stood back on the stages of every talk I ever shared Re-connected with each of my books written and movie I starred in Every partner I had shared life with, but more emphasis on my recent relationship Every home I have lived in Every country visited

…and every single experience I could find for the past 17 years.

The highs and the lows!

Layer after layer after layer.

#layers of colour with grey

Stripping away the ‘krap’, the gunge, the lack, and the ego. Relishing in the delights. Pulling my energy back to me. Releasing what wasn’t mine back to where it came from. Release. Put the final full stop on that chapter. Close the book.

This process is hard, it’s deep and it requires courage. Are you being called to do it at this time in your life? Could you give it to yourself – the permission, space, the time, and let yourself do the work?

From day 4 onwards I started to feel awareness rise like sap in my veins. I felt inspiration, vitality and sparkle flood back through my cells.

If I can convey anything at all to you – it is the tangibility of the energy that I feel now. I am able to say with my head held high and my heart ticking strong, that I am so deeply in awe of what I have created, done, experienced and explored in my business and life. Because I hadn’t been feeling like that – I was feeling useless, bored, questioning what I had accomplished, wondering if I had made any real difference in the world, wondering what I had contributed. I had no real energy, no spark, no sustainable vitality and I had to muster up motivation rather than feel inspired. Whilst I wasn’t exactly ill, I felt like my spirit had become weary and heavy. Other than some aches and pain, old injuries, the coming and going of depression and menopause thrown into the mix, I was still reasonably healthy, resilient and strong. But not being ill is definitely not the same thing as being truly healthy, vitally alive, awake and in love with it all.

I felt zinging and pulsating again – I could hear differently. I had more energy again and was getting better sleep. I felt proud, alive, awake, accomplished, in awe. I also got the closure I was desperately seeking.

From work, my ex-life-partner, and South Africa.

My gigantic triangle.

EMBRACE THE GAP

On day 12, I released that my closure initial process was done. Now that the closure felt complete – I took myself off for a glass of crisp Sauvignon Blanc and a sandwich in the glorious sun, to watch the ferry boat come and go.

I was now facing the unknown of the gap.

The sitting

Waiting

Wondering

Exploring

Following threads as they appear

Still reading, swimming, walking, sleeping, eating, and do them over and over again.

Trying desperately not to fill the gap too soon. To not push forward. To not start mind mapping the future – as that is such an exciting process to engage with. It’s one I have helped 1000’s of clients do. But the trick was to wait. To be. To still NOT do.

I had glimpses of the elements of my work I still love. Writing. Retreats. Then a wee flicker of possibility somehow found its way into my heart – a tiny glimmering thread I am now following both literally and metaphorically. But not forcing or controlling it. Just being delighted by its welcome presence more than anything. My friend simply mentioned a local woman who does something extraordinary. The moment she mentioned it, my whole being resonated when the words came out of her mouth. I didn’t even know exactly what it was that this local did. I just loved the “sound” of it. My heart sat up and paid attention and I felt a little smitten by the idea of it. Weird? I had been seeking something creative to fall in love with – a hobby of sorts. It’s been all work and travel for so many years and I have wanted something to DO with my hands. Something to bring me to life again. I always feel envious of people with hobbies. Creative pursuits.

Sorry to leave you in the lurch here– but there is no more to say about it on this blog – we have been at this one long enough today. Are you really still here? I just know that something is unfolding inside me on the island that feels juicy and full of life. I’ll write about it next time – when I know more.

But for now, I embrace the GAP. This space of being complete, closed out, full of awe and proud of it all.

Happy and content with the NO LONGER, but not yet knowing what will come in the NOT YET.

Not sure where “home” or nest will be.

Not sure what all the facets of work will look like. Being an author and running retreats are still sticking like glitter glue

Not sure who is going to come bounding into my life and heart

Sit here and be still, be patient Kate.

Just do what needs to be done for now. Today.

Stop trying to shift gears too soon.

Don’t start too many things as default from the old.

Don’t gloss over the gap.

“It is a transformative experience to simply pause instead of immediately filling up space. Pema Chodron”

REACH OUT

I wish you well on your chosen journey! I’d honestly LOVE to hear from you as I emerge slowly back into the world again – pop a comment or drop me a mail. It might take me longer to reply as the connection is a bit dodgy on the island, and I am not spending much time “working”. Are you in this phase of needing to get closure and embrace the gap? It’s really hard, isn’t it? I do hope that if you stayed reading with me till the end, that you have taken away something from my experience that can support your journey. It was just really important for me to pen it.

You could also go and check out “THE STRATEGIC POWER OF DISCONNECTING”. It was written a while ago, and I’ll update it again soon, but it might help you along your path right now?

ABOUT KATE As you gather from this post, Kate is busy re-jigging her life as she embraces the gap. She is an international, location free author who leads immersive and experiential retreats in her favorite power spots – ludicrously idyllic locations around the world. She has become intrigued by the notion of regularly taking time out to restore and rejuvenate the spirits and find that sense of joie de vivre. She still loves helping you to understand the power of slowing down and saying hello to yourself and your dreams! And it seems that being an author and running retreats are the pieces that will stick going forward.

#seaweed munching sheep

Honoring the Call of Closure was originally published on Kate Emmerson - The Quick Shift Deva

#closure #healing #iona #iona pilgrimage #letting go #pilgrimage #release #retreats #transformation

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