#to be fair im building like. four decks right now

[depravedangelbaby]

mtg is ruining my life (positive)

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff | Smut

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence (bloody violence), Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Additional Warnings: Video footage of torture, graphic physical violence, captured/kidnapping

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,778

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​, @shrimpmsg​​,

AN: It’s about to get dark, dark, and even darker still. I just want to remind everyone that I love you all for coming on this journey with me. Thank you for loving this story and remember that you are loved.

Chapter 49: Danger

“You’re in danger right now, why are you testing me? Why are you testing me? Stop confusing me.“

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Three Days Later Seoul – Hannam; Yongsan District South Korea

Hoseok took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in the plush leather chair. Soft music played from the stereo in the corner of the room; a semi-vain attempt at quieting his thoughts. They were pervasive, loud, and extremely unwelcome these days. Namjoon insisted he take the day off, reassuring Hoseok that both he and Yoongi could handle things while he was away from the office. He wasn’t one to be fussed over, but even he had to admit that the mounting stress from the last few months was finally beginning to take a toll on him.

It was quiet. Too quiet. This disturbed him on various levels in ways that he couldn’t possibly describe. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. He had. Hoseok tried time and again to empty his feelings at Seokjin and Namjoon’s feet. But it always fell short; something felt incomplete about his trepidation.

There shouldn’t have been a reason, however. Hoseok knew this. He’d made his stance very clear with Changkyun the last time they crossed paths with one another. He would not be part of the little games he was attempting to play, and he wouldn’t be coerced into walking back into darkness. None of them would.

Too much was at stake now. They were all slowly building something with their own hands; something that was of some semblance of clean. Happiness fluttered around his brothers like butterflies and he enjoyed that they were able to indulge in the little things in life for a change; things they often took for granted when they were living in the countryside.

Anastasia was pregnant, her belly swollen with the life that she was nurturing. Seokjin babied and pampered her and the others were getting used to the idea that they were all going to be uncles. When the topic of marriage was brought up, Seokjin merely smiled. He said nothing else on the matter and they didn’t push. It was clear that he would do things at his own pace.

Raelyn, too, was pregnant. Truth be told, it stung Hoseok in a way that he wouldn’t dare admit aloud. Taehyung loved her and it was clear she cared for him as well. Who was he to get in the way of that happiness, regardless of his own lingering attachments? It wasn’t fair. He wouldn’t be unfair. She was only a month behind Anastasia and Taehyung made a point to notify everyone that Raelyn was forever spoken for. No one mentioned marriage at all since Taehyung had plans of his own.

Jungkook and Eden were now living together. He remembered the look on his youngest brother’s face when he closed on the house, notifying the others that he would be moving out of their home in UN Village. The others protested at first. They didn’t think it was necessary for Jungkook to move out when Eden could have easily moved into their home instead. They had plenty of room and privacy. But after a conversation Hoseok had with Jimin and Jungkook both, he realized that it was the better option. He didn’t want to pour salt into any wounds. Especially not Yoongi’s.

It came as a surprise, at first, when he’d heard about Yoongi’s relationship with Eden prior. None of the others poked or investigated their brother, believing that he was going off to be with someone he cared about after being dragged through the dirt in the underground. While he knew that Yoongi’s loyalty was absolute and he cared deeply for his brothers, sometimes even The Lightning Claw yearned for an escape from the shadows that clung to their ankles persistently.

As he leaned back in the chair, he pressed his forearm against his temple while his other hand rested along his stomach. Dark eyes idly stared at the ceiling, looking at nothing in particular. His heart beat softly against his chest and he drummed his fingers along in time with the sound. He hummed a tune to himself, closing his eyes as he took a moment to think about everything they’d gone through to reach this point. It was a long journey – seemingly endless. Ten years flashed by so quickly that Hoseok often questioned if it was a dream they were all sharing; one where they hadn’t been able to wake up from yet.

So much fighting, stealing, and climbing over horrifyingly large mountains. Their knuckles burned white and their fingernails bled from how hard they were holding on to both themselves and their goals. Reaching the peak of the mountain, gazing over the horizon – over their kingdom – Hoseok could claim that it was something they could look back on with a mild feeling of fondness.

He couldn’t help but wonder if things would be different had they all decided to remain in their hometown.

Letting his arm fall against the armrest of the chair, he scoffed and shook his head. What’s the point of worrying about that now?

They all decided things together. They agreed to uproot themselves and walked hand-in-hand into the pits of Hell. Hadn’t everything they’d accomplished to this point, means be damned, been the result they wanted? It was all so they could have a better life at the cost of their innocence.

Im Changkyun had been right about one thing. Sacrifices had to be made. They had to be willing to make them.

The soft chime of the doorbell rang throughout the house. Hoseok sat up, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Looking at the video phone, he picked it up as the person near the front gate lifted his face toward the camera. The young man wore a uniform, presumably a delivery service. He had a small package in his arms. He waved to the camera and Hoseok felt his brows furrow. He wasn’t expecting a delivery.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh, yes Sir? I have a delivery for Jung Hoseok?”

“Who’s it from?”

“There’s no return address, Sir.”

He sighed. “Just leave it.”

“It’s requiring that someone sign for it, Sir.”

Something uncomfortable settled in the pit of Hoseok’s gut. He could have just told the delivery boy to go away and have the package returned to the shipping company. It wasn’t like he’d be punished for it and Hoseok was certain he hadn’t ordered a parcel. If anything, this was a potential headache in the making and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.

“Uh, Sir? Are you there?”

Hoseok pressed two fingers to his forehead and groaned. “Fine, I’ll be right out. Stay there.”

Rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, he exited his office and headed toward the front door. Sliding into a pair of sneakers, he grabbed his wallet and slid it into the back pocket of his slacks. The security lock beeped behind him as the door closed and he slowly trudged down the winding path of the front garden toward the front gate. He entered the passcode and pulled the gate open slowly, his back rigid as he prepared to brace himself for anything that might have attempted to catch him off guard.

The young man smiled, holding out the small parcel toward Hoseok. He took it, cradling it under one arm, while he signed the tablet with the stylus. The delivery man checked his signature, bowed, and bid him a wonderful rest of his afternoon. Hoseok merely nodded, closing the gate and began heading back toward the house when the security lock beeped again.

Mindlessly inputting the passcode, he entered the house while examining the package. It was a simple white box with red and blue accents around it – presumably the logo and color scheme of the shipping company. It was no longer than a standard envelope and as thick as two decks of cards. His name was on the front but like the delivery man stated, there was no return address.

For the sake of argument, Hoseok shook the box and heard the soft rattling sound of something hitting the inside along all four corners. Whatever was inside was small and light. He tossed the box up and down, confirming much of the weight was from what was concealed in the box. Opening the flaps from one end, he held the box at an angle and a small USB thumb drive fell into his palm. There was nothing about it that stood out; just a simple red and black thumb drive with the manufacturer’s logo on it. He shook the box again but nothing else was inside.

Tossing the box into the nearby waste bin, Hoseok entered his office and closed the door behind him. His legs moved toward his desk and he flopped into his chair. Pulling up a virus scanner on his computer, he made sure it was ready and waiting before sliding the thumb drive into one of the USB ports. Two minutes went by and the virus scanner confirmed there was nothing malicious on the drive, deeming it safe to open.

Clicking on the icon for the drive, there was a folder with his name on it. He opened it and saw three files inside: two video clips and a text document. There was nothing urgent on the text file’s label. It merely read For Hoseok. The video clips, however, had two different dates on them: three days ago and today, followed by the numbers 1 and 2.

He clicked on the first video.

The picture was dark, showing that whatever room the video was being filmed in had poor lighting. He could make out a couple of silhouettes, but there weren’t any distinctive features that could help him discern who the figures belonged to. About ten seconds into the video, a light clicked on – illuminating one of the people in the video.

It didn’t take him long to recognize who it was and the moment he did, Hoseok thought his guts had fallen out of his body.

In the video, there was a woman sitting in a chair. She was tied up with what looked like a combination of regular ropes and large chains. Her mouth was gagged with a bright red cloth and her head hung forward, the light over her head shadowing the rest of her face. The intensity of the light hanging over her made it only slightly difficult to discern her skin color, but her dark curls that fell around her neck and across her shoulders was unmistakable. Something dangled from her neck – he could only assume it was a necklace of some kind.

But he still couldn’t see her face.

“No,” he whispered while shaking his head. He could feel a cold sweat forming on his brow. “There’s no way that’s…”

All the moisture left his mouth in mid-denial. A masked man grabbed a handful of the woman’s curls, yanking her head back. A muffled yell of outrage pushed from her chest, lost against the bright red fabric pressed over her mouth. Her face was fully illuminated in the light and even Hoseok could no longer deny who was sitting in that chair.

It was Eden.

The video was only ninety seconds long and it abruptly ended with a hand holding up two fingers in front of the camera lens. The person in the video was telling him to click on the second video file.

He clicked on the other video file labeled with today’s date.

It was the same nondescript room and Eden was still sitting in the chair. A trail of blood seeped from her temple and her shirt was torn open from the neck to her stomach, exposing her bra and skin. The necklace continued to hang from her neck and he could see there was a ring looped through the chain. It appeared that her shoulder was injured, the denim jacket stained a darker shade of blue on just her right shoulder. A large cut decorated her thigh and he could see where the blood blossomed across her jeans – staining her entire upper leg red.

Eden looked like she was fading in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, water was splashed over her face and chest, jolting her awake and it appeared that she was attempting to focus on her current predicament. When it seemed like the answer was dawning on her features, Eden raged through the bandana over her mouth, her body rocking back and forth viciously to break free from her restraints. One of the men backhanded her hard and she went limp, her head rolling forward.

Hoseok saw the blood leaking from beneath the gag.

The video ended.

Horror and fury tore through Hoseok’s entire body, threatening to rip him asunder. His shoulders vibrated from his anger and his vision blurred from the onset of furious tears. Getting his hands to steady over the mouse was a task in and of itself. When he managed to finally tether it down to move it, he clicked on the text file with his name on it.

It felt like the ground opened beneath him and swallowed him whole.

Hoseok Hyung,

I have to say, I’m impressed. Truly. I can’t find a single weak point in your defenses. But that shouldn’t come as a surprise, should it? You’ve always been so careful; always fully aware of your surroundings. The others are the same; a habit they’ve picked up from you, perhaps?

It’s a shame that same skill wasn’t embroiled in your women.

Not that it’s their fault. When you believe that you’re safe, what reason do you need to keep your guard up? Blissful ignorance does that to a person. Believing you’ve won makes you sloppy.

Your brothers have become sloppy, Hyung.

As interesting as it would have been to go after the women carrying your brothers’ children, I’m not a monster. Besides, Eden is the strongest of them and breaking her will only prove my point further.

That you’ve all grown weak in the light.

Hyung, this is my final offer. Stop letting the light blind you. Stop letting those weak dreams and ambitions dictate the rest of your lives. You can’t protect the things you love when you don’t have the power to stop anyone who would try to take it from you. You had that power and you threw it away.

And for what?

For love? Success? So you can lay in your graves, close your eyes, and think you’ll greet the Reaper with a nice clean conscience? Don’t be ridiculous.

Let’s see how long it takes you to find her. You already know asking for the police won’t do you any good. We have the Chief in our back pocket; we have for years.

By the time you read this, the boys and I will be out of the country on a business trip. Tracking us down will just be a waste of time. Both yours and hers. Every minute counts and the longer you take to find her, the more she’s going to suffer because of your inability to act.

The clock is ticking, Hyung.

And the game is still on.

Good luck.

Im Changkyun

For a moment, all Hoseok could do was stare at the words on the screen. He couldn’t breathe. He could barely think.

Then he saw red.

Hoseok jumped from his chair, grabbed the monitor, and hurled it across the room. The sound that ripped through him was beyond anything a human being should have been capable of making. Glass shattered as it crashed into the wall, breaking into numerous pieces. He picked up the keyboard and began to smash it across his desk, breaking the glass top as the keys popped off and scattered across the floor. Even when the keyboard was split in half, he continued to pummel his desk – creating more spider vein cracks along the surface.

And then he blacked out.

Hoseok didn’t know how long he was out. What brought him out of the darkness was the sound of Namjoon’s voice, as well as his body moving back and forth. Slowly, Hoseok’s eyes opened and he saw his friend looking down at him with extreme concern.

“Hoseok-ah!” Again, Namjoon shook him. “Are you alright? Hey, come on!”

His vision blurred in and out of focus, his head spinning, and he reached out blindly to grab onto Namjoon’s shoulder. “N-Namjoon-ah,” he croaked, realizing how raw his voice sounded, “the boys. C-Call the boys.”

Namjoon frowned, not sure what he was trying to tell him. Hoseok growled in frustration.

“GET EVERYONE HOME RIGHT NOW, GODDAMMIT!”

[war-sword]

what can i get you?

part 1 | index | masterlist

draco x female reader [muggle au, slightly aged up]

summary: One handsome Draco Malfoy is the only boy at your new job you trust to tie your ties. words: 1,960 playlist: here author���s note:  i was threatened with legal action if this fic wasn’t created.

i spent too much time doing research to make the details of this accurate  and absolutely no one is going to fact check me so why did i even bother lmao. also please keep in mind that this is like... based on an actual job i have so sometimes i talk a little too much about the catering IM SORRY but i hope no one’s too bored by it!!! THIS WILL HAVE 3 ((maybe 4 oops)) PARTS! uh also we posting them back to back to back so get excited.

taglist: @clockworkherondale @accio-rogers @mayorofzillyhoo @diademofdraco @drawlfoy @ladybuginthetardis @silversslytherin @lushlavenderskies @socontagiousimagines @acciodracoo @eltanin-malfoy @maceyisntcool @newhopenessie​

◈◈◈

It’s your first day on the job.

You check your texts one more time just to be sure. “Park in the parking deck, then proceed around the right side of the building and come in the back doors. Call Gabrielle if you have any problems.” You grab your purse from the passenger seat and get out of your car, making your way down the staircase to the bottom level. Per the instructions, you walk around to the side of the building and spot a set of doors. Just to be sure, you peek through the windows. A large group of people mill around a side lobby, folding napkins and arranging flowers. Not too hard.

You push open the doors, and decide to just ask the first person you can. “Hi, do you know where I can find Gabrielle?”

A boy with dark and curly hair turns from his napkin folding to look up at you. “Yeah, she’s in the kitchen. You know where that is?” You shake your head. “I can take you.”

He places his finished napkin onto the pile with the rest and gets up from his chair, leading you down the hallway and past the reception room where you can see chairs all set up. The kitchen is not what you expected– it’s a lot less nice than you would think a hotel like this would have, but a group of about six people are hard at work putting together charcuterie boards. “That’s Gabrielle right there,” the boy points. You thank him and he leaves to go back to the napkins. 

“Hi, Gabrielle,” you say, catching her attention. “I’m Y/N.”

Gabrielle is taping table lists to the wall of the kitchen, and turns at the sound of your voice. “Oh, hello Y/N! Welcome.” She sticks out her hand for a shake. “We’re glad to have you, thanks for being on time. Weddings are always busy nights. We’re getting ready to start warming food, if you want you can help the boys finish napkins up front, then we’ll have our meeting. Don’t forget to clock in.”

You nod, and go back to the table in the side lobby. The boy you spoke with first shows you the fold for the napkins that creates a little pocket you can stick the silverware in. Within a few minutes, you’ve folded all the napkins. The boys begin to introduce themselves. 

Theo is the boy you first spoke to. Blaise invented this particular napkin fold, or so he says. Vincent and Greg don’t say much; they’re sharing airpods, but flash you silent peace signs all the same. Everyone is about your age, in college or just out of it. Gabrielle calls everyone back to the kitchen, where the people making the cheese boards are already in a small room off the kitchen, changing into their uniforms. Gabrielle grabs a stiff white dress shirt, silky tie, and black vest off the rack for you, labeled with a tiny piece of tape with your name on it. 

It’s now you realize you’re only one of three girls working, excluding Gabrielle. Gabrielle catches sight of you standing awkwardly outside the room, and barks for all the boys to finish changing outside. There’s lots of grumbling, but most have already pulled on their dress shirts. You and the other girls go into the room and close the door behind you. 

“Are you new?” One girl asks immediately as you start to change.

“Yeah, this is my first night.”

“Oh, fun. I think you’ll like it, we have a pretty good time.” She’s already moved on to her tie, while you’re still struggling to button your shirt. It’s a men’s shirt, so they’re backwards. “Just make sure to work really hard this time. First impressions matter most to Gabrielle.”

“Thanks…?”

“Pansy,” she says, slipping on her vest and tucking the end of her tie into the waistband of her black dress pants. “And that’s Astoria.”

Astoria smiles at you. “It’s true. Most of the boys are slackers, so as long as you’re just a little more productive than them you should be in the clear.”

You all giggle. Pansy shoves her normal shirt into her purse, and leaves the little room, and Astoria leaves a few moments after her. They leave the door open, since you’ve finally gotten your shirt on and tucked in. It’s when you peer into the tiny mirror over the sink in the corner that it dawns on you; you have no idea how to tie your tie. You look out into the kitchen at everyone else, and then turn back to the mirror, trying in vain to recreate the neat knot they all have at their necks. 

“Want some help?’’

You turn around to see one of the boys from the kitchen leaning against the door frame. His bleached hair and chiseled jaw had caught your eye when you had first walked in, but you hadn’t had much time to take a good look. You certainly were now, though.

He motions again to your tie with a tilt of his head. You blink away your Attractive Man Spotted daze and take a few steps towards him. He takes the two ends of your tie hanging around your neck and adjusts the length before crossing them over, over, around and through. “See, and now you can just tighten it,” he says, letting the tie hang around your neck.

“C-could you do it again?” You ask. “So I can learn.”

The edges of his lips quirk up. “Sure.”

So he does. You really are paying attention to the tying, but also to his extremely attractive hands as they settle against your throat when he tightens the tie for you. “You’ve got to do this top button as well,” he says, pulling the collar of your shirt together. His fingers are warm against your skin. “Sorry, it’s always a little tight.”

“It’s fine,” you manage to get out. 

Gabrielle calls for everyone’s attention, and blonde boy gives you one more smile before turning away. She explains how passing a bussing are going to work for the night. She announces that you, Pansy, Vincent and Greg will pass while everyone else ‘flips’ the ceremony room to prepare it for the reception. You try to keep up with what Gabrielle’s saying, but in the end just decide if you’re following everyone else’s lead then you’ll be fine. One of the kitchen workers has set out four trays of various appetizers. You grab a stack of napkins and a tray of shrimp skewers and follow Pansy out into the lobby.

Passing isn’t too hard. All you have to do is wander between the guests, and most of them will take the food off the tray with minimal interaction. The women always want a napkin. The men always insist they’re fine without. Whenever your tray is empty, you go back to the kitchen and someone will refresh it for you. A very easy cycle. One group of girls is particularly enthusiastic about the shrimp, and over the course of the cocktail hour they wave you over and take your shrimp two at a time as they become progressively more drunk. 

Gabrielle stops the four of you passing and you all go back into the kitchen, as they let the guests come in to the newly transformed ballroom. Blonde boy appears at your side and takes one of the leftover mini beef-wellington bites Pansy had been passing from her tray. “We can eat them?” You ask.

He nods. “As long as we’ve fed the guests, it’s fair game. Try one, they’re good.”

You and Pansy both take one off the tray. They are pretty good. “This is Y/N, it’s her first night.” Pansy says.

“Oh, nice,” blonde boy replies. “I wouldn’t have known you were new. I’m Draco, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.” Draco, Draco, Draco. You’re determined to remember his name, feeling slightly embarrassed you’d already forgotten the name of one of the other boys you folded napkins with.

The bride and groom have their first dance, and guests have their salad course while someone from the bridal party makes a speech. Gabrielle snaps her fingers and tells everyone to start bussing so they can get the main course out. 

Draco and the other workers who helped flip bus with you and the other passers. Bussing is just as easy to pick up as passing was, and soon there’s a smooth flow in and out of the kitchen of everyone carrying dishes. Balancing the dirty dishes on your tray isn’t too hard, and you just have to remind yourself to switch arms every so often to keep your wrists from hurting. By the time you’re bringing back people’s dishes from finishing the main courses, you notice Vincent and Greg sitting on the dish crates, taking a break and sitting on their phones. Astoria walks past and gives you a pointed look. You smile a little to yourself as you scrape off the plates, put them in the dirty dish bins and head back out onto the floor. 

By nine-thirty, things have started to slow down. There’s not many people left eating their dinner, save for a few who are hoarding their plate to continue eating rolls. You’re standing by one of the pillars in the ballroom, scanning the tables for something to pick up, when Draco appears next to you again. 

“How’s it going?” He leans in close so you can hear him over the loud music. 

Mmm, his cologne is nice. “Good, it’s making me a little hungry though.”

“There’s always extra, ask next time you go back.” He checks his watch. “Let’s start picking up the charger plates. We’ll do cake soon.”

You nod, and he walks off. Back in the kitchen, Pansy and you take a five minute break to eat some leftover rolls and asparagus. After the bride and groom cut the cake, two of the boys bring it back and the kitchen workers start cutting slices and putting them onto trays. Passing the cake has been the easiest thing all night, and everyone takes a break in the kitchen for a minute once it’s done. A dozen leftover slices are all scattered across the metal counter, and everyone takes one. You can hear all the guests screaming the lyrics to “Come On Eileen” through the wall. 

You and Astoria watch Draco and Pansy have a heated friendly argument while you finish your cake, and then it’s time for a final round of bussing. Everything comes off the tables. Once you’re sure all the glasses and plates are put into the bins, Gabrielle tells everyone you can change back into your normal clothes. After a final sweep of the ballroom for any silverware that might’ve fallen on the ground, you’re free to go. Pansy and Draco walk with you to the parking deck.

“When should I clock out?” You open the app on your phone, looking down at the button.

“Wait until you get in your car, that’s what I always do,” Pansy says.

“Like, really wait,” Draco adds. “Phone plugged in, music ready. But don’t drive away, it tracks your location.”

You chuckle. “Noted.”

“Are you working tomorrow?” He asks.

“No, just once this weekend. Next week I’m on Saturday and Sunday, though.”

“Cool, maybe I’ll see you.” He and Pansy need to go up one more level to get to their cars, so you part ways. You take Draco’s advice and get settled before clocking out. 

Congratulations! You earned €85.37 before taxes for working 6 hours and 48 minutes. View Timecard.

Hm, pretty good. This job doesn't seem like it’ll be too much of a job after all.

◈◈◈

hmu in the comments with a review or to be added to the taglist for this particular fic or all my future ones :D

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 65 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 65 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Tanlin grinned widely.  “‘Ere’s our messenger.”  She fluffed Thunderhead’s crest feathers.  Getting up and putting the Wide Wing onto the table, she got a small harness off the shelf.  Thunderhead took the opportunity to raid the snack tray for left-over skelt fillets.

Proudly Tanlin said, “Master Selked an’ Oi made t’is for ‘im.  ‘T ‘as room for twa message capsules.  T’ey willnae come off by accident, even wen ‘e dives for fish but ‘e can pull t’em out of t’e ‘arness all by ‘imsel’.”  Tanlin was strapping the harness snugly about the bird, who took up a good part of the room when he partly spread his wings to help the process.

Tanlin held up two small capsules made of thin, finely crafted Strong Skin. “T’ese’ll carry our messages t’ t’e fleet.  T’ey’re woterproof, but just t’ be safe, we’ll write wit’ Shelled Hag ink.  Tis woterproof once ‘t dries.”

Kurin reached for a writing case on the shelf.  Surprised, she turned it over in her hands and asked, “Where did you get this?  It looks like the one Captain Huld uses.”

Tanlin responded, “We bought ‘t from t’e Soaring Bird boot’ at t’e same time t’at we got Sula’s book.”

Kurin selected a pen with a fine, flexible tip of Wing Ray bone, prepared her ink and began to write in a small, neat hand.

To whoever receives this:

This note is from Kurin Behar Longin.  Whatever you may have heard, I am aboard the Grandalor of my own free will.  Please relay this note to Captain Sarfin of the Dorton, Head of the Captain’s Council and also to Captain Sula of the Dark Dragon.

Certain crimes and other issues need settlement.  The Grandalor seeks to have the Council Resolution of Outlawry set aside because the edict is in violation of the Second Great Law.  A proper legal trial under the Great Laws and fleet Law is requested.

Recognizing the difficulty of gathering a quorum of the Captain’s Council, the Grandalor will accept Captain Sarfin as the sole judge, providing that he carries signed proxies for a quorum of the Council.  We await Captain Sarfin at 800 North by 00 West.  Follow the bird.  He will guide you to us.  The Great Dragons assure safe conduct to all in their waters for the purpose of this justice.

Kurin, boat-builder Journeyman.

Kurin set the note aside to dry and asked, “Who is the second note to?”

“Oi do believe t’at t’e Longin wonts ye bock.” Tanlin said dryly. “Might be polite t’ tell t’em where t’ find ye.  From w’at ye’ve told m’, t’ey ‘ave a large financial stake in gettin’ ye bock.”

Kurin gave a sad little smile at that.  “I left my post.  I hope that they aren’t too angry.”  Taking another parchment, she began to write.

To Mord Halyn, Captain of the Longin:

Captain, I apologize for leaving my post.  I felt little choice when it became clear that we were refusing rescue in violation of the Fifth Great Law, granting the right of rescue to any in distress.  We all broke the Second Great Law in convicting the Grandalor officers without a proper trial.  In accepting the verdict of the Council without question, I became a part of that same violation.  For our own sakes, we need to defend the Grandalor’s rights and safety until she is brought to a legal trial.  As you now know, I came with them voluntarily.

Please come.

Relay this message also to Captain Sarfin.  He must get the Edict of the Council set aside and come to sit in judgment on the case.

Sula has been asked to come also, by the same means that this letter was delivered.

The bird that delivered this will guide you to us.  Follow the bird.  If you get separated from the group, the Grandalor and I are waiting for you at 800 North, 00 West.

In Justice, Kurin, boat-builder Journeyman.

Kurin waited until the ink was totally dried and waterproof before folding and rolling the notes and putting them into their capsules.  Tanlin mounted the capsules to Thunderhead’s harness and the big Sea Hawk clambered up her arm to her shoulder and settled himself comfortably.

“He acts like he’s done this before,” Kurin observed.

“‘E ‘as,” Tanlin answered, tilting her head to see around Thunderhead.  She spoke over her shoulder as they all went up on deck.  “Wen Master Selked an’ Oi made t’e ‘arness, we all t’ree practiced wit’ ‘t.  Not only did ‘t ‘ave t’ be secure an’ comfortable, ‘e ‘as t’ be able t’ fish wit’ ‘t on.  Flyin’ can be ‘ungry work.”

Tanlin turned to face the wind, her hair streaming out behind like a rich flag from her Arrakan Captain’s Braid.  She chucked Thunderhead under his beak and told him, “Go now.  Fly swiftly sout’ until ye find t’e Dark Dragon or t’e Soaring Bird.  Give t’em t’e message on yer right.  T’en seek t’e Longin.  Give t’em t’e message on yer left.” She held out her arm and Thunderhead strutted down to her wrist.  “Dari give ye fair winds beneat’ yer wings!” she called and swept her arm forward, to help Thunderhead launch himself skyward.

Kurin watched in fascination as Thunderhead spread the huge wings that gave his kind their name and soared away, quartering down the wind, now skimming barely above the waves but gaining speed.  He turned gracefully into the wind and climbed over thirty feet before his momentum began to wane.  Smoothly he turned downwind losing only a few feet as he swept in a great circle, building speed on the downwind leg and gaining altitude on the upwind turn.  It took a surprisingly short time for Thunderhead to gain a thousand or more feet.  He turned south and vanished into the distance, a dwindling speck in the blue of the sky.

Kurin turned to speak to Tanlin and saw the absent look on her face.  Kurin felt a pang of envy as she realized that Tanlin was sharing the sky with Thunderhead and wondered, as Barad and others before her had also, what it felt like to fly.  In a few moments, Tanlin shook off the connection and her spirit returned to her body on the deck of the Grandalor.

“T’under’ead’s on ‘is way,” she announced unnecessarily.

“How will he find the ships?” Kurin asked.

“T’at’s t’e easy part.  Dari’s got t’e location o’ t’e ships from Iren an’ is ‘elping T’under’ead t’ find t’em.  T’will take ‘im about five or six days t’ get t’ere an’ deliver t’e messages.  I’ t’ey get underway immediately, t’ey could get ‘ere in anot’er t’ree t’ four weeks,” Tanlin said casually.

“The Dragons are helping?  How did that happen?” said Kurin incredulously.

“Mecat gave m’ a Dragon Gift too, i’ ye remember.  She gave m’ peace where m’ past is concerned.  W’at’s lost is gone an’ Oi nae longer frustrate over ‘t.  She also bonded m’ wit’ Skye and T’under’ead.  T’en she gave us asylum ‘ere in t’e Dragon Sea so long as we’re seekin’ justice from t’e Naral fleet.  

“T’e Dragons ‘ave been keepin’ tabs on us, t’ be sure t’at we’re workin’ t’ ‘onor our side o’ t’e bargain…”

Kurin interrupted, “You mean that the Great Dragons are keeping an eye on us now?”

“Well, aye.  Frath comes by regularly an’ we talk.  Dari showed up once t’ look in on Skye an’ T’under’ead.  T’ey represent a major ‘abitat change for t’e whole range o’ Wide Wing species.  T’e change in t’e ecological situation needed direct observation an’ quest’nin’ o’ t’e birds by Dari ‘ersel’.  

“Ane o’ t’e t’ings she told m’ is t’at she’s t’e ane ‘oo turned a few species o’ t’e warm-blooded fish into all o’ t’e variety o’ birds.  She got permission from all t’e ot’ers, particularly Blind Mecat, t’ create new species t’ exploit t’e aerial ecological niches.  Oi just wish t’at Oi understood ‘ow she did such a wonder.”

Enviously, Kurin said, “I wish that I could talk to Dragons regularly. I miss Mecat.  I didn’t even know that she was a Dragon.  She just knew so much and tried to share it with me.  Then she made her change and went back to the sea.  I haven’t seen her since.”

Tanlin heard the bitterness in Kurin’s response and sympathetically said, “She’s t’e busiest o’ all t’e Dragons but she hasnae forgotten ye.  T’e Longin’s whales ‘ave been keepin’ ‘er up wit’ all t’at ‘appens concernin’ ye.”

“How do you know that?” asked Kurin in bitter curiosity.

“Frath an’ Dari bot’ told m’.  I’ ye wont, Oi’ll ask i’ t’ey’ll relay a request for ‘er t’ come see ye.”

“I wish that you would.  I still want to talk to her about a lot of issues, not the least of which is the present problem,” Kurin said seriously.

“Then ask the Orcas, Little Fish,” a third voice put into the conversation.  “They always listen to everything that happens aboard every ship and report it to us.  I will always come to talk to you if I can.  I have missed you too.”

Kurin whirled about and beheld a huge white head looming up over the rail. It had frills and spines and tentacles about a huge mouth filled with fangs.  Its blind eyes stared just past her in a most comfortingly familiar way.

“Cat!” Kurin called out in delight, throwing herself fearlessly at the monster Dragon.  With complete trust she cleared the rail and landed in the midst of the tentacles, hugging the huge snout as well as she was able.  The tentacles caught her, gently holding her safe, and hugged her close in return.

“Little Fish,” the Great Dragon asked in quiet amusement, “who taught you that it was safe to leap into the jaws of the biggest predator anywhere about?”

Comfortably nestled in the warm nest of Blind Mecat’s tentacles, Kurin answered impudently, “You did, Cat.  You taught me that trust in a good person is never misplaced.”

“Hmm. . . Little Fish, perhaps the lesson went a bit beyond my intent. Maybe a finger or two — — no, I’d barely taste that…” the Dragon considered in mock seriousness.  “I know!  A hand! — — and the arm too, of course.”

“That might upset Dari,” Kurin replied, also with mock seriousness. “She’s studying the Grandalor as a new habitat for Wide Wings, and I’m part of the rookery flock.”

“Of course you are,” Mecat replied, ruffling Kurin’s white hair with a tentacle, “I can tell by your feathers.  Seriously, what do you think of the situation?  It is unprecedented.  I know what the birds think, naturally.  I asked them myself.”

Kurin tapped her lip gently as she thought.  “I think that it is a good thing.  It gives the birds a safer habitat and more help with their young.  The people of the ship benefit as well.  The birds help to find fish schools and scout further than lookouts can see, watching for danger.  It seems that they can be trusted to deliver messages between ships as well.

“I personally like the chick that calls itself High Cloud.  I can almost understand that little bird.  I’d like to take him with me when I go back to the Longin, if he wants to come.”

“Good answer, Little Fish.  I was hoping to hear that last bit.  Some people would not consider the feelings of the bird along with their own.”  Mecat’s tentacles shifted Kurin to a seat on top of her snout.  “Habitat changes can have many consequences to an ecology. They have to be very carefully worked out.  Even though this one was the result of an accident, it looks to be favorable.  I will allow the experiment to continue.

“Now, I believe that you had some concerns that you wanted to discuss.”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

[sworntolight]

✯✍☂ For both girls obviously! And the answer to that last one can't be me either lmao

Ask A Pom!

✯ :  A head canon someone else has inspired you to adopt? 

That would probably be, for Mako, her ability to see duel spirits when logged into Link VRAINS. It’s actually inspired by two different people, only one of whom I still write with, but I’m still thankful for them both! <3 It’s a very limited ability with ties back to her cousin, but that’s a story for another day. Mako’s turning to VR games like Beat Saber to counter her anxiety and autophobia is another, as well as her love of building decks for others/making random decks just to test. 

For Kiku, her love of chrysanthemums and her desire to be a nurse. Her being a peacekeeper is another big one... Also inspired though is Kiku’s family owning a fish shop by the harbor, though honestly? I can’t tell you from where, it’s been that long. XD

✍ :  Offer 3-5 tips on how to get other role players started on interacting with your muse. 

Kasa coming out with the real questions XD

1. Talk to them. Introduce yourself! Notice something and ask a question! Offer a hand in friendship! The girls are both really friendly and gentle until they’re given a reason not to be, and while Mako can and likely will be a bit skittish and distant because of her anxiety and autophobia at first, they’re here to make friends. Just offer a hand and respect them enough to talk to them. <3

2. Ask what they’re into. They talk a lot and even they’ll admit to it, but the girls both have a fair number of hobbies and interests they’re all too eager to get others into, too! Dueling, video games, the arcade, gardening, watching the sea, shopping... I have a canon (actually, a canon and an alt canon in Fireflower) on this blog that involves multiple people, but where those bonds shine and stand out, the girls are NOT their bonds/family and have other things unrelated to their family they’re all too happy to introduce yours to! Give them a chance to show that off~!

3. Don’t assume, give them time. This ranges across a lot of points, but all boils down to assumptions - I’ve had far too many muses assumed to be idiots on two or three replies simply because they’re happy go lucky with no attempts (and even flat out refusal) to let them show why. I’ve had people assume the girls make their relationship with Takeru into their entire character/reason to live because they mentioned him in any context when yes, he is a major influence on them and they talk about him, but they also talk about their hobbies, work, and other family and friends just as much. If you assume the worst of them and not let them actually prove you either right or wrong, threads aren’t going to last and the girls won’t want to hang around longer than they have to.

4. Send memes! Ask box! These are amazing for starting things with my girls! I’m autistic and have heavy anxiety myself, so I’m less likely to reach out to you for a thread - And if I don’t think things will work out, I’ll tell you and offer someone else to thread with I think you could work well with (i.e. I don’t do good with heavy confrontation and if your muse is super confrontational all the time, I might point you in the direction of a partner who would enjoy threads like that since I don’t and my muses wouldn’t willingly come near that for reasons). Dropping into my ask box or IMs is a great way to get in touch with Mako and Kiku and me for a thread!

5. Anons. This is something I used to do a LOT and I’m pretty sure Kasa can attest to this even now, but I used to drop some IC anons into the inbox of someone I was interested in threading with for the sake of seeing how my muse and theirs might hit it off, and I suggest this to everyone who sees this - Not just for use with me, but everyone. This is especially useful if you’re not sure of how someone will react or you have anxiety as well; it’s a way to just sit back and see how the muses work and if they’re going to get along, and if not you can back out without any harm done, or reveal yourself to them if yes. This is a great way to kickstart something with Mako and Kiku (and even the kids on @valkyrianflame ) and doesn’t outright force you to commit to a thread with them if you’re not ready for one. My inbox is always open!

☂ :  Spread some love: mention someone you’ve met that has influenced you or your writing in a positive way, and explain how. 

That’s cheating, Kasa. XD I’m going to bite the rules in the butt and name three people here, then: @kiibx and @knightdawn and @eyesofblue-heartofgold. Kiibx has unfortunately left tumblr rp a far as I’m aware and while I miss her, there’s no denying she pushed my writing and helped shape one of my other ygo OCs (Aoi Sakazaki) into the character she is now, and helped me learn and grow from past really, REALLY bad experiences. There’s no denying Kiibx has made me a better person. <3

Eyesofblue-heartofgold - Vel - Is a dear friend I’ve known for quite literally 16 years. I met her when I started really getting into rp on a chat room that I doubt still exists, and we’ve been really close since - But I honestly doubt that like with Kiibx and even Kasa (HAH YOU GET IN HERE REGARDLESS), I would ever have become the person I am today without her. She’s been very much an older sister to me all these years, guiding me and helping me to understand things I normally never would’ve gotten near, and helped my writing go from the old ‘*giggles* but I did see it!’ styles into the way more para style I have now. She’s always questioning and helping me to work things out into something that makes sense. <3

Knightdawn I’ve known about 6 years, and I’ll admit, I was a trash partner back then - Which again a Kasa can attest to. XD Knight is one of my partners on my other main that actually stopped and talked to me about things and helped me realize where things were wrong and what I was doing when most other people just ghosted me or took advantage of the fact I had little idea to what was doing, or why it might’ve been wrong. We both had some roadbumps we’ve learned from and we’re even rebooting a fair few projects soon enough now that we know better, but these are things I never would’ve realized I was doing without Knight stopping to ask me about them, or pointing them out. In fact, the majority of my fandomless OC’s on my main are at the point they are because she gave me suggestions and, along with Vel, questioned me on things that made no sense or pointed out when it was over the top.

And Kasa can say this one can’t be her all she wants, it’s them and her that have had a massive impact on me and made me into who I am today. I’m beyond thankful for all four of you and I love you to no end, and can confirm you’re all brilliant writers and partners and everyone should check you guys out. <3

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Mission

A Continuation from my Previous story ‘Mary the Talon’, hopefully this’ll eventually grow into a bit of miniseries in which will be posted here on Tumblr for all to enjoy.

 The Jump City PD Copter was just finishing its twelfth out of fifth teen passes over the city skyline, in hopes of spotting anything suspicious, about Teen Titans level of suspicious. One of the pilots on board, Joe really wish for these passes to be done with by now in all honesty, his little boy was just needing a nice goodnight smooch on his head before tomorrow’s mornings First day of school. His co pilot looked over shoulder, feeling a bit of sympathy for his friend, but as he reached for his Joe’s shoulders, some…thing passed them in a quick flash, and he spots it as fast.

“Did you see that?”

About hundreds of feet below, in one of Jump’s ever not-so-crowded parking lots, business was going down. Inside a fair sized hideout, a group of at least seventeen men,, each wearing their own tacky suits and wielding some sort of firearm and/or knife that obviously belonged to Prohibition era crime as opposed to the “Hipster junk” younger criminal types like to use. About twelve of these gangsters stood guard around the remaining five, as said five engage in a mostly friendly game of poker. Well actually four of them as the final one, and the actual leader of this merry band, counted their profits from today’s little “junk profiteering”. The air around stank with cigar smoke as many cards were shuffled and decked out amongst the so called gentlemen as their alcohol intoxicated eyesight made for easy yet irrational guesses on which card was which, betting away money that could’ve wounded up on charity blocks and banks down below instead of this greasy, dark rat hole of place in which only had one big light on, A light in which that mysterious flying…something took note when planning the first strike against the targets.

The order from the Masters was simple: Amongst this “gang” was a man linked to former Gotham Mobster Anthony Zucco, Charles ‘Chucky’ Sol. The Masters were apparently in agreement with one of their precious Talons that Zucco’s actions have brought them great harm in their plans for controlling Gotham’s underground in light of Carmine Falcone’s downfall. Since the pathetic leech Zucco was dealt with about seven years ago on the electric chair, all that was left now was the scum who’ve worked under name. The good Sol, who served as Zucco’s accountant, was among them. It just so happens in fact Sol and a small amount of the men who worked for Zucco were establishing a network of trade, both legal and not, within Jump City rather secretly in light of these so called “super villains” on the prowl. There goes that name once more ‘Zucco’, and with it these…visions…with words mutter including “racket”, “my brothers”, and “accidents”. But the Talon had no such time to ponder this nonsense, these vermin must receive their sentences and so with quick through to the light via a knife, the mission begins.

In almost immediate reaction to the light’s literally going out, the gangster whip out their firearms, most commonly six-bullet revolvers but with three wielding Thompsons. Soon a thud was on the poker table, the guns turn to the figure, cloaked in complete blackness along with everything else so they couldn’t decipher it. However, as one of the crooks close to Sol notes the two yellowish white eyes and the cape like feeling right behind it not to mention the short height, he immediately screams in near horror, “ITS BOY BLUNDER, GET ‘IM!”

  So now with their fingers all squeezing their triggers simultaneously, “Boy Blunder” flips with a quick but far reaching back flip, while reaching out for one of the knives strapped to his chest, throwing two of them into the brain pans of two crooks with Thompsons while using a third one to immediate slash away the pistol wieldier to the right side of Sol. In pitch blackness, Sol couldn’t see anyways of those actions or the stabbing/slashing of the knives in use or the blood squirting onto his favorite Deluxe. In all fairness though, he didn’t need to, the sounds of men crying out in absolute pain and the smell of iron at his feet was proof enough that either someone was doing VERY impressive magic show with his men as unknowing participants or the most likely case; Boy blunder here has apparently cracked and start turn his little day off from working into a literal blood bath. Whatever the case, he isn’t sticking around to see what’ll happen next, he’s out of here. As Sol rushes for the nearest he remembers, muzzle flashes from his men’s guns light up squirts and spills of blood flying, coming either his men’s throats or their chests, most likely their heart spots. Oh yeah, he was defiantly out of here.

The much more lighted up hallways leading to this stinking buildings parking lot were what he needed to make his quick getaway from whatever was doing the crap behind him. Well, quick getaway would’ve been right had it not been for one daunting fact that immediate froze the good Mr. Charles Sol in his tracks: the one behind that crap was standing in front of him in puff of smoke. Believe or not though, it wasn’t that Boy Blunder Robin or any of his precious “Titan” chumps.

The figure was dressed in mostly very dark brown and black suit that looked something of a 1800s fashion pageant, a fashion pageant that happen to be bird themed or something as the mask to two glowing eyes shone from was shaped like an owl, a forest owl if he isn’t mistaken.

“W-wait a minute, you ain’t boy blunder”, stutters Sol as he puts all the information just said into words.

The Owl speaks, with a grave, cold yet strangely feminine voice, “Charles Sol, The Court has made their verdict.”

Court? What Verdict? What the fudge was this baloney coming from? But Sol immediately ditched those questions in mind as he whips out his revolver to blow away this lady. Or at least, he would’ve had not been for the almost instant swipe of this thing’s mini swords slicing through his gun, the force of said swing throwing him to the ground, forcing him to crawl on his hands and butt.

“What are you? The hell you want from me?!” yelled Sol as he crawled away in absolute fear from this chick as she pointed her sword to his nose.

“They have sentenced you to death, ‘Chucky Boy’”, came the almost monotone response from the owl lady as she prepared to swing her final strike, a strike that could’ve came had it not came to sound of a motorbike parking down below them. It wasn’t just any motorbike though, unbeknownst to them, it was the R-Cycle with Robin the Boy Wonder unloading from it to investigate a building with small flashes showing through it windows. For this owl like woman, time was of the essence, she needs Sol’s blood now. Thankfully, ‘Chucky Boy’ hadn’t gone too far in his sneak off as he was right now trying to start his rusty old Ford. Too bad so sad for him however, the engines die out at the absolute worst moment for owl chick was about three steps close to him. So grabbing his double barrel shotgun for the backseat, Sol opens the door, placing two buck shots into the lady’s chest hoping that’s the end of it. Unfortunately its seems good old Karma has gone cold for the owl lady begins to stand up, the black fluid leaking from where her heart’s blood was supposed to be and the buck shot holes closing up.

“Impress me”, said the owl lady as she drew out her sword from the ground but not before taking the last two knives from her shoulder belt and using them as nails through Sol’s hands, pinning him to the wall and raising her blade next to his throat. With a last spit to her goggled left eye, Sol sneers “I did, you bi...” Charles Sol never finished his sentence for a quick beheading was done. With that the mission was done. Mary Elizabeth Llodveski/Lloyd Grayson’s mission for her masters, the Court of Owls, was accomplished for tonight.

Epilogue:

As Robin reach for the parkway, he saw what remained of gangster Chucky Sol, head with a facial of horror on the ground while the rest of the body was pinned to the wall with two knives, one per hand, holding it in place. The crucifix pose the body was left can open up a whole entire drawer’s worth of potential criminal types that uses Christian based imagery like this. Those thoughts were put on hold however with closer examination of the knives in use. They were imprinted with an owl emblem at their hilts and some sort of black liquid dripping off, this is the clue he’ll need for Cyborg to scan it for potential suspects.

As he was getting ready to leave however, looking up towards the opposite door, Robin notices something… no, someone at the doorway.

“FREEZE” Robin yells as he rushes to the door to reach the one who might responsible. But he by the time he reached the door, he was too late; the person had disappeared with only a small puff of smoke in its place.  

Robin couldn’t help but glare his mask a bit; it was going to be one of those cases again wasn’t it? When will he ever unmask both Red X and Slade before this gets out of hand? Honestly!

So there it is folks, Part of my “Mary Grayson as a Talon” AU please feel free to reblog or leave comments. I really appreciate it. 

[theliterateape]

A Surly Serbian Marie Kondo Broke My Shit

By Don Hall

As the movers opened up the double doors on the side of the giant eighteen-wheel truck and three boxes started to tumble out from the top of a chaotic and crushing stack, I figured it was good that Matthew was still offsite and Dana and Kelli were running to the bank to grab an additional tip for these guys.

Three months ago, Dana and I did our own version of Marie Kondo culling in preparation for our move to Las Vegas. We sold furniture we decided was probably past its prime, took boxes and boxes of clothing we no longer wore or wanted, unloaded used books to Uncharted Books. Contrary to the getting rid of things that no longer sparked joy, this was far more pragmatic. We were moving two thousand miles away and had the opportunity to slim down our footprint, so we did. Most of it was easy.

That hybrid elliptical machine the size of half my Prius? Impractical to load it up and cart it halfway across the country — and where would I put it if it came? The clunky coffee table I got from a closed down elementary school auction? Gone. The rolling rocker I bought from Joe for $25 a decade ago and that Dana hated? No sweat.

All told, we sold, gave away, or dropped in the alley, about a third of our worldly possessions, which made the things we kept more meaningful. We put thought into everything we decided to pack. Some of it was sentimental, some was practical. Everything was intentional.

Things To Know When Moving Across Country:

An empty house grows in size in your perspective when you have a limited amount of time in it.

Your stuff will be handled by local movers loading it into a truck to take to a warehouse. It will be handled by the workers in the warehouse moving it to the cross-country truck. It will be handled by the movers driving it across the expanse and dumped into your new home. None of these workers gives a shit about your bobblehead that Joe had made for you for your birthday with your head on a Superman body.

You will pack more clothes than you ever wear or have room for.

The night before the truck came with our stuff, we all decided that one person would be the point guard for them. I was the person designated to tell them where to put things. Thus, I was the one person witness to the cascading avalanche of boxes and furniture that, perhaps in Chicago had been stacked safely, in the two thousand-mile trip had become an almost criminal disregard for anything remotely labeled as “fragile.”

Yes, the furniture was wrapped in moving blankets and taped to the gills, but as the guys tore through the covering, chair legs were snapped (“Uhm. I broke that chair,” one dude mumbled) and boxes unceremoniously dropped with a thud on the concrete driveway. I couldn’t tell where things went because they were often so blanketed that it was hard to figure out what it was except for vague shapes.

To be fair, these were nice, hardworking guys. Pleasant but perfunctory. Doing their job. I went over to the crew chief, a large, smiling Serbian cat with a five o’clock shadow and a pot belly. “Wow,” I said. “Looks like a lot of stuff got damaged in transit.”

He got very serious, as if he had been approached with the same thought a million times before and wasn’t looking to have some faux activist pull out a camera phone and record him. “A move like this will come with about 10 percent damage. Anything damaged should be documented and the company will compensate you for it.”

I smiled a dark grin. “Just take a picture of it and send it along with a bill? What’re the odds we’ll get any money for it?” He pauses, thinking about his answer but I know the odds. “I mean, shit in one hand, wish in the other and see which fills up first?”

He laughed in surprise but didn’t answer.

Ten percent.

As if a low-grade Thanos snapped his finger and a tenth of everything I own disappeared into the MCU mythology.

More Things To Know When Moving Cross Country:

If it isn’t in a box and it’s not furniture, they’re going to toss it in a big box randomly. This will guarantee a bit of destruction of your property.

Tubs are great but make sure they are strong tubs because the weaker ones crack and shit just spills out.

If you have something in your home that is irreplaceable, take it yourself.

To provide indisputable proof that life is chaos and there is no justice in the world, Matthew’s four boxes filled with nothing more than more empty boxes made it unscathed. As we continue to unbox the sum totals of our lives in Chicago to fully populate our space in Las Vegas, the gravity of what is here that was there accumulates. The tiny black holes of what has been lost or broken creates a unique kind of magnetism that pulls at the parts of me I didn’t anticipate.

The broken and now useless cutting board signals the memories of a hundred meals that are long since eaten and the comradely of those brief culinary delights: the house warming party at 1944 Division; the first white chili I made for Dana; the night Tanner and his wife came over for dinner shortly after DMJ started working at Uncharted Books. The missing digital scale, while easily replaceable, still contains the days and weeks and months of focused training and weight loss that accompanied a chunk of my forties.

So much of it, however, underscores the finality of the move and the fleeting nature of stuff we hoard throughout our days. I’m reminded of the slow build to the ending of the original Chuck Heston Planet of the Apes when they discover the items in the cave including the plastic talking baby doll. Those things meant something to someone but the someone was long since erased, leaving the stuff. In a Pixar world, that stuff contains memories of its own, but we don’t live in a Pixar world.

Marie Kondo is a reaction to our need to pare down, prune our excesses, live a less materialistic life. The nameless, faceless movers simply are that need and remove choice in the equation.

On the other hand, every off-strip casino here gives you a free deck of cards for signing up for their loyalty programs so I can fill the void left by the movers with that shit, right?

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 65

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2018

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Tanlin grinned widely.  “‘Ere’s our messenger.”  She fluffed Thunderhead’s crest feathers.  Getting up and putting the Wide Wing onto the table, she got a small harness off the shelf.  Thunderhead took the opportunity to raid the snack tray for left-over skelt fillets.

Proudly Tanlin said, “Master Selked an’ Oi made t’is for ‘im.  ‘T ‘as room for twa message capsules.  T’ey willnae come off by accident, even wen ‘e dives for fish but ‘e can pull t’em out of t’e ‘arness all by ‘imsel’.”  Tanlin was strapping the harness snugly about the bird, who took up a good part of the room when he partly spread his wings to help the process.

Tanlin held up two small capsules made of thin, finely crafted Strong Skin. “T’ese’ll carry our messages t’ t’e fleet.  T’ey’re woterproof, but just t’ be safe, we’ll write wit’ Shelled Hag ink.  Tis woterproof once ‘t dries.”

Kurin reached for a writing case on the shelf.  Surprised, she turned it over in her hands and asked, “Where did you get this?  It looks like the one Captain Huld uses.”

Tanlin responded, “We bought ‘t from t’e Soaring Bird boot’ at t’e same time t’at we got Sula’s book.”

Kurin selected a pen with a fine, flexible tip of Wing Ray bone, prepared her ink and began to write in a small, neat hand.

To whoever receives this:

This note is from Kurin Behar Longin.  Whatever you may have heard, I am aboard the Grandalor of my own free will.  Please relay this note to Captain Sarfin of the Dorton, Head of the Captain’s Council and also to Captain Sula of the Dark Dragon.

Certain crimes and other issues need settlement.  The Grandalor seeks to have the Council Resolution of Outlawry set aside because the edict is in violation of the Second Great Law.  A proper legal trial under the Great Laws and fleet Law is requested.

Recognizing the difficulty of gathering a quorum of the Captain’s Council, the Grandalor will accept Captain Sarfin as the sole judge, providing that he carries signed proxies for a quorum of the Council.  We await Captain Sarfin at 800 North by 00 West.  Follow the bird.  He will guide you to us.  The Great Dragons assure safe conduct to all in their waters for the purpose of this justice.

Kurin, boat-builder Journeyman.

Kurin set the note aside to dry and asked, “Who is the second note to?”

“Oi do believe t’at t’e Longin wonts ye bock.” Tanlin said dryly. “Might be polite t’ tell t’em where t’ find ye.  From w’at ye’ve told m’, t’ey ‘ave a large financial stake in gettin’ ye bock.”

Kurin gave a sad little smile at that.  “I left my post.  I hope that they aren’t too angry.”  Taking another parchment, she began to write.

To Mord Halyn, Captain of the Longin:

Captain, I apologize for leaving my post.  I felt little choice when it became clear that we were refusing rescue in violation of the Fifth Great Law, granting the right of rescue to any in distress.  We all broke the Second Great Law in convicting the Grandalor officers without a proper trial.  In accepting the verdict of the Council without question, I became a part of that same violation.  For our own sakes, we need to defend the Grandalor’s rights and safety until she is brought to a legal trial.  As you now know, I came with them voluntarily.

Please come.

Relay this message also to Captain Sarfin.  He must get the Edict of the Council set aside and come to sit in judgment on the case.

Sula has been asked to come also, by the same means that this letter was delivered.

The bird that delivered this will guide you to us.  Follow the bird.  If you get separated from the group, the Grandalor and I are waiting for you at 800 North, 00 West.

In Justice, Kurin, boat-builder Journeyman.

Kurin waited until the ink was totally dried and waterproof before folding and rolling the notes and putting them into their capsules.  Tanlin mounted the capsules to Thunderhead’s harness and the big Sea Hawk clambered up her arm to her shoulder and settled himself comfortably.

“He acts like he’s done this before,” Kurin observed.

“‘E ‘as,” Tanlin answered, tilting her head to see around Thunderhead.  She spoke over her shoulder as they all went up on deck.  “Wen Master Selked an’ Oi made t’e ‘arness, we all t’ree practiced wit’ ‘t.  Not only did ‘t ‘ave t’ be secure an’ comfortable, ‘e ‘as t’ be able t’ fish wit’ ‘t on.  Flyin’ can be ‘ungry work.”

Tanlin turned to face the wind, her hair streaming out behind like a rich flag from her Arrakan Captain’s Braid.  She chucked Thunderhead under his beak and told him, “Go now.  Fly swiftly sout’ until ye find t’e Dark Dragon or t’e Soaring Bird.  Give t’em t’e message on yer right.  T’en seek t’e Longin.  Give t’em t’e message on yer left.” She held out her arm and Thunderhead strutted down to her wrist.  “Dari give ye fair winds beneat’ yer wings!” she called and swept her arm forward, to help Thunderhead launch himself skyward.

Kurin watched in fascination as Thunderhead spread the huge wings that gave his kind their name and soared away, quartering down the wind, now skimming barely above the waves but gaining speed.  He turned gracefully into the wind and climbed over thirty feet before his momentum began to wane.  Smoothly he turned downwind losing only a few feet as he swept in a great circle, building speed on the downwind leg and gaining altitude on the upwind turn.  It took a surprisingly short time for Thunderhead to gain a thousand or more feet.  He turned south and vanished into the distance, a dwindling speck in the blue of the sky.

Kurin turned to speak to Tanlin and saw the absent look on her face.  Kurin felt a pang of envy as she realized that Tanlin was sharing the sky with Thunderhead and wondered, as Barad and others before her had also, what it felt like to fly.  In a few moments, Tanlin shook off the connection and her spirit returned to her body on the deck of the Grandalor.

“T’under’ead’s on ‘is way,” she announced unnecessarily.

“How will he find the ships?” Kurin asked.

“T’at’s t’e easy part.  Dari’s got t’e location o’ t’e ships from Iren an’ is ‘elping T’under’ead t’ find t’em.  T’will take ‘im about five or six days t’ get t’ere an’ deliver t’e messages.  I’ t’ey get underway immediately, t’ey could get ‘ere in anot’er t’ree t’ four weeks,” Tanlin said casually.

“The Dragons are helping?  How did that happen?” said Kurin incredulously.

“Mecat gave m’ a Dragon Gift too, i’ ye remember.  She gave m’ peace where m’ past is concerned.  W’at’s lost is gone an’ Oi nae longer frustrate over ‘t.  She also bonded m’ wit’ Skye and T’under’ead.  T’en she gave us asylum ‘ere in t’e Dragon Sea so long as we’re seekin’ justice from t’e Naral fleet.  

“T’e Dragons ‘ave been keepin’ tabs on us, t’ be sure t’at we’re workin’ t’ ‘onor our side o’ t’e bargain. . .”

Kurin interrupted, “You mean that the Great Dragons are keeping an eye on us now?”

“Well, aye.  Frath comes by regularly an’ we talk.  Dari showed up once t’ look in on Skye an’ T’under’ead.  T’ey represent a major ‘abitat change for t’e whole range o’ Wide Wing species.  T’e change in t’e ecological situation needed direct observation an’ quest’nin’ o’ t’e birds by Dari ‘ersel’.  

“Ane o’ t’e t’ings she told m’ is t’at she’s t’e ane ‘oo turned a few species o’ t’e warm-blooded fish into all o’ t’e variety o’ birds.  She got permission from all t’e ot’ers, particularly Blind Mecat, t’ create new species t’ exploit t’e aerial ecological niches.  Oi just wish t’at Oi understood ‘ow she did such a wonder.”

Enviously, Kurin said, “I wish that I could talk to Dragons regularly. I miss Mecat.  I didn’t even know that she was a Dragon.  She just knew so much and tried to share it with me.  Then she made her change and went back to the sea.  I haven’t seen her since.”

Tanlin heard the bitterness in Kurin’s response and sympathetically said, “She’s t’e busiest o’ all t’e Dragons but she hasnae forgotten ye.  T’e Longin’s whales ‘ave been keepin’ ‘er up wit’ all t’at ‘appens concernin’ ye.”

“How do you know that?” asked Kurin in bitter curiosity.

“Frath an’ Dari bot’ told m’.  I’ ye wont, Oi’ll ask i’ t’ey’ll relay a request for ‘er t’ come see ye.”

“I wish that you would.  I still want to talk to her about a lot of issues, not the least of which is the present problem,” Kurin said seriously.

“Then ask the Orcas, Little Fish,” a third voice put into the conversation.  “They always listen to everything that happens aboard every ship and report it to us.  I will always come to talk to you if I can.  I have missed you too.”

Kurin whirled about and beheld a huge white head looming up over the rail. It had frills and spines and tentacles about a huge mouth filled with fangs.  Its blind eyes stared just past her in a most comfortingly familiar way.

“Cat!” Kurin called out in delight, throwing herself fearlessly at the monster Dragon.  With complete trust she cleared the rail and landed in the midst of the tentacles, hugging the huge snout as well as she was able.  The tentacles caught her, gently holding her safe, and hugged her close in return.

“Little Fish,” the Great Dragon asked in quiet amusement, “who taught you that it was safe to leap into the jaws of the biggest predator anywhere about?”

Comfortably nestled in the warm nest of Blind Mecat’s tentacles, Kurin answered impudently, “You did, Cat.  You taught me that trust in a good person is never misplaced.”

“Hmm. . . Little Fish, perhaps the lesson went a bit beyond my intent. Maybe a finger or two — — no, I’d barely taste that. . .” the Dragon considered in mock seriousness.  “I know!  A hand! — — and the arm too, of course.”

“That might upset Dari,” Kurin replied, also with mock seriousness. “She’s studying the Grandalor as a new habitat for Wide Wings, and I’m part of the rookery flock.”

“Of course you are,” Mecat replied, ruffling Kurin’s white hair with a tentacle, “I can tell by your feathers.  Seriously, what do you think of the situation?  It is unprecedented.  I know what the birds think, naturally.  I asked them myself.”

Kurin tapped her lip gently as she thought.  “I think that it is a good thing.  It gives the birds a safer habitat and more help with their young.  The people of the ship benefit as well.  The birds help to find fish schools and scout further than lookouts can see, watching for danger.  It seems that they can be trusted to deliver messages between ships as well.

“I personally like the chick that calls itself High Cloud.  I can almost understand that little bird.  I’d like to take him with me when I go back to the Longin, if he wants to come.”

“Good answer, Little Fish.  I was hoping to hear that last bit.  Some people would not consider the feelings of the bird along with their own.”  Mecat’s tentacles shifted Kurin to a seat on top of her snout.  “Habitat changes can have many consequences to an ecology. They have to be very carefully worked out.  Even though this one was the result of an accident, it looks to be favorable.  I will allow the experiment to continue.

“Now, I believe that you had some concerns that you wanted to discuss.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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