#yes Avarice is the youngest now

[anotherrosesthatfell]

One day once I got money to buy tablet, I'll be writing comics of them istg-

[sins-of-the-sea]

((Meta question: In Christian tradition, pride is the most deadly of the seven sins. And yet, Ruixiong seems pretty friendly and not as dangerous as the others. He's also happy with his position in the crew and doesn't insist on being the captain. Why do you think that is?))

The short, semi-shitposty but not entirely wrong answer: CHRISTIANITY IS NOT CHINESE!!

The actual answer: Ruixiong's Pride themes is less on Catholic tradition (or at least how St. Thomas Aquinas lays it out) and more an exploration of Chinese, as per Confucianism, Buddhist, and Taoist ideals. In actual Catholic tradition, not only is Rui's Pride themes a subversion (or just a play on the concept), but a hint to the true nature of why the Seven (as in Pride being the 'deadliest' of the Sins) sold their souls to begin with... and a clue as to how, in canon and in RP, how the Seven can be redeemed if you choose to go the Salvation story route.

Due to having lost his family in Beijing around age six, and thus having little to no memory as to how/why he doesn't have his parents anymore, and the world's (and especially China's) general unkind attitude to orphan street kids with no money, influence, or legitimacy, Ruixiong has a very warped sense of Pride in himelf. This is especially true in his experiences and perspectives with the concept of Li (禮) and the 5 Constant Relationships--Parents>Children, and thus filial piety being the most prominent. No order, no one to look up to for guidance, no way of learning proper behavior and form that is in the natural order of society and the world. So what does Rui do instead? Make his own rules. Make his own order. Make himself worthy of admiration and piety. Ruixiong would then do many things that would be viewed as extremely haughty and improper in Chinese society, though not much thought would be put into it--he's a bandit, after all. Which feeds into a cycle for Ruixiong to attempt everything and anything for recognition and acknowledgement--and thus creating a vicious cycle of what would be improper and transgressive Pride.

As a play of the idea of Catholic pride, indeed, Ruixiong seems to be fairly happy in his position and unwilling to take over as Captain... because Chinese tradition is still at play here. When one dies, damnation in Hell is not permanent, and moving on to the next life would happen once the appropriate time spent in Diyu and its different levels of Hell is over. The deal with the Master for Ruixiong, thus, lies on the conceit that Ruixiong would remember his times of this life and carry it on to the next, as well as (supposedly) lessened punishment in whatever level of Hell awaits for him. Or just thorough access through Hell and just move on to the next life without any punishment altogether. Thus, Ruixiong has the most lax and nonchalant attitudes towards having to spend time in Hell and the punishment awaiting for him--because unlike in Abrahamic religion, time in Hell is never permanent. In other words, Ruixiong is taking his damn, sweet time in doing whatever the fuck he wants as long as he is immortal and his soul is bound to the Master, making him the least tormented of the Seven... and the Master wouldn't have it any other way. With all these elements coming together, the Catholic sense of Pride now finally shows up--Pride in that Ruixiong will never get his due punishment, that he is above it all. And with this sense of Pride, the Master doesn't have to resort to abuse and manipulation to get what he wants out of Ruixiong--Ruixiong is already stupidly handing everything over on a silver platter.

With all this in mind, Ruixiong's attitudes and Pride can be helpful in figuring out how to help the Seven from their bondage to the Master. Indeed, in Catholic tradition, Pride is the deadliest of the Seven Sins, because all Sin can be rooted to Pride in some shape of form. Covetousness, avarice, anger, indulgence, etc etc. And yet... here is Ruixiong, the youngest of the Seven, and yes! Friendly and not all that dangerous. Stupid, careless, impulsive, and with an ego that dwarfs all of China, but still... not that bad of a guy. I have said so before--Ruixiong is actually the most heroic of the Seven, the most unwilling to hurt people in the name of the Master or himself. One of Ruixiong's warped (but ultimately helpful and even noble) codes of personal honor and morality is that he will NEVER knock someone down in order to raise himself up. No one deserves that UNLESS it is a person who abuses that station in life (hence one way he is disrupting Li--he is not showing due piousness towards authority). So Ruixiong is actually something of a representation that the Seven's predicaments aren't rooted in Pride at all.

So what is it, then? What is the Sin that the actual 'deadliest' among this Crew? It is the Sin that is seen in the First of the Seven, the one who approached the Master the first. The Sin that has evolved the most over time, the one rooted deeply in something all Seven has in common more than just offenses to their Pride. It is the sin of dejection. The sin of apathy, of losing hope in God and the world. The sin of despair. The sin of eternal surrender. The failure to maintain good, to remain in the graces of God, to not allow evil to thrive.

It is Sloth. The First of the Seven is Sloth. Phoebus is the deadliest of the Seven because all he has to do is say "Die" and anything around him, or his target, will die instantly. And it is despair that is the root of all the sins of the Crew.

[celestianvices]

Little Avarice

[tag: little Avarice]

Name: Ciavera Alias/Nicknames: Cia, Ci Ci, Avera, Gremlin Age: ??? (looks and behaves like a 7 – 9 year old child) Species: Homunculus Height: 4'3 Weight: 70lbs Hair: Straight and black by default, fluffy and white when shielded Eyes: Jade green by default, pale gray with red sclera when shielded Skin: Pale by default, coal gray (almost black) when shielded

Background: Coming from a timeline where the seven sins were created in a sort of inverse of appearances, Greed and most of her siblings appear and act as reckless children, save for the oldest daughter Pride who served as the de facto babysitter for the group along with second oldest son Lust. Being a replacement for the missing original Greed (the third child), little Greed's status as the youngest meant that she was often picked on by other sins such as Wrath and especially Lust, who seemed to take a special pleasure in bullying their new attack dog as some kind of punishment for the other one being gone. If their Father knew about any of this he did not seem to care, turning a blind eye to the things the siblings got up to when they weren't being sent on missions.

Her only real friend was little Gluttony, who tended to like everyone. At least, that's what she told anyone who asked anyway.

This was Greed's every day life until an unexpected rescue came. She was out running errands with Lust that day, and he was being about has kind as ever; tugging her hair, pushing her when her back was turned, using his claws to trip her up at inopportune times and then blaming her for the consequences. When he shoved her into a busy intersection and forced her to shield up to keep from getting hurt in traffic Greed was sure that she was going to be taken back to Father by the military police and scolded for revealing herself to the civilians of Amestris. For giving them some idea that things were happening behind the scenes they weren't aware of.

What she found though was that someone was standing between her and the perpetually vicious preteen. The cloaked figure couldn't be much taller than Greed herself, but it was obvious they were much more mature than she was. Just the way they carried themself spoke of age and experience. Turning to glance over their shoulder before Lust could compose himself, the person revealed themself to be a woman with short red hair.

A single feather lying on the asphalt was the only clue where she'd come from. Was she an angel? Were those real? She asked Greed if she wanted to get away from “that asshole” and she didn't even think before blurting out a loud “YES. TAKE ME AWAY FROM THE ASSHOLE ANGEL LADY”.

With a thumbs up and a grin, the woman hoisted the girl up, spreading her previously concealed wings for a quick takeoff. “It's Llyria, by the way” she said, but Greed hardly noticed at first. She was too busy trying to figure out how someone so small lifted her so easily. She asked where they were going, and after a brief pause the woman said “home”.

What was home though? As it turned out, home was a bar in Dublith, where a man who was also called Greed waited there with another little girl, with the same red hair and little white wings. He was surprised of course. But not unbearably so. Like someone who'd been abruptly given a stray kitten. It fell to him to try and explain to the little avarice what was going on. It.. went about as well as expected.

After that home was back in Central. A new Central. A Central without Father but one that had even another Greed. She wouldn't be called that though. She insisted on Avarice and the little Greed understood almost without realizing that this was the best name. So much better than the one her Father had given her. Here she was given the name Ciavera, here she was able to tell them about her secret friend.

She was able to run through the streets and over the rooftops, finding the little differences and the big ones that eased her fear of being found by her siblings again. She tried to chase down a rabbit only to have it rescued by a strange woman. She ended up taking the rabbit home with her (it's name is rabbit). She broke into homes and stole food and demanded candy. But tried to make up for it and protect the people who were nice to her.

She saw Avara brush off another version of her brother, and she chewed on and ruined the makeup of a woman who also said she was Lust. She found out about Avara's littlest brother and took to sleeping at the foot of her new sister Zhen's bed until the adults relented and got the girls a bunk bed.

Now she spends her time either there or in Dublith, running through the forests and playing on Yock Island. Learning what she can from both Greed and Avara about controller herself and becoming better with her own homunculus powers.

And with the way she sometimes roams, who knows where she'll turn up next.

Powers and Abilities: As a homunculus, little Avera has heightened speed, and strength for her size, and possesses keen senses. Even without her shield she is less prone to damage than normal humans.

Ultimate Shield – Like most incarnations of Greed little Avera can cover her entire body in a second skin made of hardened all but indestructible carbon.

Limited Immortality – Possessing a philosopher's stone core, little Avera will be alive as long as her stone remains in tact

Regeneration – At the cost of some energy from her philosopher's stone little Avera immediately heals from any wound. Even those that would prove fatal in normal circumstances. The larger the wound however the more energy is taken, and each stone has a limited number of deaths generally equaling the amount of souls used to produce the stone.

[literature-works]

A Different Type Of Soldier Chapter 4

StarWars FMA Crossover

Story Summary: In a period of civil war, the Empire pushes the Rebel forces towards the outer reaches of the galaxy. With the Jedi Master Van Hohenheim captured and the Rebel forces stretched to their breaking point, there doesn’t seem to be any hope for them to take down the Empire. But a forgotten insignificant clone might be the answer the Rebels were looking for.

Chapter Summary: The Captain's mission does not go to plan at all as Rebel forces pick off the Battalion's units one by one.

Chapters 1/ 2/ 3/ 4/ 5/ 6/ 7/ ?

AO3

The Commander stared down at his writing desk with a tired look in his eyes. He had stayed up for the past few nights finalizing his research and now, he knew it was finally done. He smiled as he signed his number on the bottom of his journal and tossed the pen down on the desk. It was officially finished. A relieved chuckle left his lips as he leaned back and massaged his tired face. He did it, he really did it.

There was a sudden knock on the door and the Commander looked to see the familiar face of Lieutenant Pitt walking into their shared room. The blue stripes to his armor were already faded from a few months of wear but they suited the tall clone. He wore them well. The Commander himself had to get a new uniform once again because of his growth spurts. It had been nearly a year since he received his last one and he had quickly outgrown it in typical clone fashion. He was now over 7 years and stood several inches taller like a regular eighteen-year-old. Unfortunately, he was always going to be a head shorter than Pitt who liked to still poke fun about him being the baby of the unit as he was in fact the youngest and probably always will be.

“What are you so happy about, Cap?” Pitt asked him as he ducked in through the doorway. He removed his helmet and carelessly tossed it on his bed.

 “Looks like you could finally get a good night's sleep now. I am done, finally done with all of this bloody paperwork,” he chuckled happily. “I just sent the growth results to General Greed and we are all set for the Harvest this year.”

“It’s done?” Pitt asked in amazement as if he wasn’t expecting it to have been approved. The Commander was working on this project for nearly six months with the help of Pitt and Desden. It was a long time running but they finally finished it. Desden had taken the opportunity to replicate the seeds for the harvest trade. They had crates full of them stored in the warehouse to trade with the local farmers when the time came. The Captain couldn’t wait till it did because then, the town would get the help they needed and rightfully deserved.

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe it,” Pitt huffed in disbelief, “You really did it.”

“Yes,” the Captain repeated with his knowing smirk.

“So when does the convoy head out?” he asked curiously.

“I was talking to the rest of the Battalion after explaining the situation and we determined that it would be best to start the harvest this week. It’s last minute but the farmers had already reaped their crops and the earlier we get them the seeds, the more time they would have to sow and collect another harvest before the frost. However, the exact time we leave is up to you,” the Captain grinned. The Lieutenant’s mouth dropped open in shock as he realized what he was saying.

“What?”

“Congratulations, Lieutenant Pitt, you are the Convoy Commander of this year’s Harvest. I am sure you will do perfectly fine arranging the vehicles, getting all of the gear loaded, and deciding routes and travel times.” Pitt let out a pitiful wail as he realized all of the work he had to do and the Captain took the opportunity to laugh at him.

“But, Sir, I am awful at making convoys. You remember the first time I did it?” Pitt gasped. “Now I swear you just like to dump all of your work on me.”

“You would be very right about that,” ED-0001 chuckled as he relaxed in his chair. “I do love to dump my work on you. However, I also got wind that the Commander of Blue Lion Company is in desperate need of a replacement and their company has been skimping on leadership for a long time. He is getting old and looking for someone to take his spot when he leaves. I made a bet, he took it. If you can run this convoy you got the position if you want it. Well, after all the paperwork of course.”

“Sir-“

“Don’t call me sir.”

“Captain, I literally just got promoted, why would you want me to do it again so soon?” he asked him. ED-0001 smirked. When he had first arrived at the unit PT 3149 was the most pitiful excuse for an officer anyone could find in the far reaches of the Galaxy. He was getting pushed around by the lower enlisted soldiers for no good reason at all. The Captain thought he was going to be another spineless soldier but after one conversation with him, he knew he couldn’t be farther from the truth. Pitt was a natural born leader and the Captain knew he was going to do great things. The only thing he needed was confidence, a bit of assertiveness training, and the opportunity to succeed. Captain ED-0001 was going to give him all those things.

However, instead of telling his subordinate all of that, the Captain simply shrugged with the stupid happy grin on his face.

“You will figure it out eventually, but first you need to figure out our Company’s routes this year,” he said only to earn another respectable groan from Pitt as he flopped helplessly back on his bed. Even though he was fully on it, his long legs hung off the bottom of the bed making him look more like a giant than he already was.

“When we get so lost we can’t even find our way back, we will then see my ass being demoted for not getting the quota in.”

“If anything like that happens, we need to make sure that the villages are set first. We cannot have the Rebels taking advantage of them because of our mistake,” the Captain warned.

 “I don’t understand why the villagers would ever side with them, especially after all of the aid we have given them over the last year,” he replied. “The Rebels couldn’t even protect the capitol when it was attacked. They ran away when all of the Jedi were killed like cowards. The Emperor’s the only one who tried to stop it. If you think the villagers are going to side with the genocide causing Rebel’s that’s a bunch of-”

“Hey, I am just saying it’s a possibility,” the Commander interrupted him. “With the way the Avarice Battalion were treating the villagers before, blood seeking cowards doesn’t sound like a bad choice. If this harvest runs smoothly and they villagers accept the trade, we probably don’t have to worry about Rebels or hostile civilians for the rest of our lives.”

 “That means you should do this convoy just to make sure I don’t mess up,” Pitt suggested wryly. The Captain glared at him and walked over to grab the clone’s helmet, dropping it down on his chest. The Lieutenant let out a grunt as it hit him and groaned as his hands latched around it.

“No, that means you gotta get your ass in gear and get me those convoy plans. When you are done I will send them out to the other Companies to let them know we are leaving,” he smirked. The Lieutenant grumbled something to himself about the work load before slamming his helmet back over his head and walking out off the barracks room. The Captain chuckled to himself as he watched him go. “Don’t worry Pitt, everything will be fine.”

……………

The Commander walked through the motor pool where all his men were trying to load the carriers with the bushels of seeds they had produced. They had ten villages to cover in a span of only a few days in order to collect their crops for the legion. He needed to make sure that they were ready to leave as soon as possible. Though the Lieutenant was getting the entire convoy set up as best as he could, they were already behind schedule. The other units had already headed out on their routes and Green Lion Company was left in the dust still loading their cargo and doing last minute maintenance on the vehicles. The Captain had full faith in Pitt’s leadership, but he had a little less faith in the people seeing it through.  

“Sit on your own time!” he scolded a group of troopers that were hiding behind a few empty storage crates to avoid work. At the sound of his voice and at the sight of his red pauldron on his uniform, the soldiers were sent scurrying back to their own work. He knew that being the Commander was definitely intimidating to the privates who had very little rank and little color to their armor, but sometimes it really came in handy. Though an officer usually wasn’t out in the motor pool at all, with how far they were behind schedule, he needed to make sure all hands were on deck. If they didn’t make this trip on schedule they would not only miss their deadline but also miss giving the seeds to the villagers at prime planting if they were to get another harvest in before the snow fall. If the villagers went hungry again for the winter because some of his troops were slacking off he would rip his company a new one and starve them too. He picked up an empty storage crate himself and tossed it onto its nearby assigned freighter.

“Hey!” he heard someone call out angrily. He turned his head to see RD-9999 yelling at the other privates who were mulling about. “Why the hell is the Commander loading these crates? Get off your asses and help load them!” The Captain found the crate he was carrying lifted out of his arms by quick soldiers and he was grateful to see even more soldiers getting to work.

“Sorry sir, I have been trying to get them to work but when one group works another sneaks off. It’s hard to keep everyone together,” the Private apologized and the Captain waved him off. You couldn’t get all of the lazy eggs in line but most would do. Though the Red headed storm trooper was still as hot headed as ever, the Private was really getting himself and the other lower enlisted in line. They had come a long way since the Commander had first gotten to the unit and that was enough to sate his aggravation with the slack in the work.

“Put these to the back of the carrier. We would need to unload the seeds first and then we can fill the crates with the crops,” he told Private Red who then relayed it to the soldiers who were stacking them up in the ships. They all answered with a quick Yessir before the Commander was on his way again. As he was passing the gate once more he heard a sudden static come from the inside of his helmet.

“Captain ED-0001, this is Private BX-5757, over,” he heard the young soldier’s voice come in through the radio in his armor. The Commander lifted his wrist and pressed a button on his plating.

“BX 5757, this is ED-0001, Come in.”

“Sir, we have received contact from Red Lion Company. They have sighted small groups of Rebel forces on their route, over.”

“What is their status? over.”

“Sir, they have not received hostile contact. Captain SD-0103 of Red Lion Company advises armed guard on the convoy, should we prepare?” The Commander frowned as he looked up and out of the motor pool’s fences. Their outpost was located on a rather flat terrain where they could see effortlessly for miles around however, they weren’t nearly close enough to any village to see any significant detail. They had not received alert of Rebel’s approach to the planet but they could have easily flown in under the radar with how spread out their forces were. The Commander didn’t think the Rebels were stupid enough to make a direct attack on the outpost. He would have waited to see what was to come of their sudden appearance on the planet, however they needed to make the convoy now if they were going to make the quota. After giving one more look at the empty vastness of Resembool’s farmland, the Commander returned to his radio.

“BX-5757, I will order the company to the armory after they are finished in the pool. Tell Captain SD-0103 to watch her ass, do you copy?”

“Yes Sir, I copy.”

“Good, relay this to Lieutenant PT3149, over and out.”

The Commander frowned as he looked back at their progress on the carriers. They were still far behind and now they needed to get more things done to arm everyone. He straightened himself out and marched to the center of the motor pool.

“COMPANY! FORM UP!” he bellowed and suddenly there was a flood of privates running towards him in their shiny white unbeaten armor. The commander waited for them to get into formation in front of him, which took a little pushing and shoving. Though all of the soldiers were older than him by at least a good two years, they were still bumbling fools, maybe even fresh out of the academy. Once they were all done jostling around, the Commander sighed to himself as he looked upon part of his subordinates. They all waited silently for what he was going to say.

“I have just received a transmission from Red Lion Company. Apparently, they have spotted a small group of rebel forces on their convoy. Security codes are now being changed from low to high. I need all of you to stay alert while working out here and on the convoy. Resembool is one of the largest sources of food for our legion. If it goes down our Avarice Battalion and many more will surely starve. We need to protect it. We also need to finish our mission and fulfill our quota,” he sternly told them. He got some quiet whoops from the formation. They were bloodthirsty and eager privates, and Edward didn’t blame them. They didn’t get to do much on the quiet planet. However they gravely misunderstood the idea of combat. “After you stop lollydagging and start actually working for once and get these carriers fixed and filled. All of you need to go to the Armory and take up your assigned weapons. This convoy preparation is lagging. Now get your butts in gear. Fallout,” he finished.

The formation dispersed faster than it was gathered and the Commander watched the soldiers haul ass back to the carriers to finish their work. He was at least glad to see that they saw the severity in the issue. He needed to get this company on route as fast as possible. All of the other companies were already beating the early fall heat and trying out the new trading system. With the Rebel’s spotted in the north he knew something was up. All of the Lion Companies out right now are in danger. The sooner they got done the sooner they would be out of danger. If the Rebels were only in the northern quadrant, he knew that they were at least safe. But he didn’t know how fast those bastards could travel.

………

“Sir-”

“Lieutenant for fucking sakes don’t call me sir. I don’t need it from you,” the Commander scolded the lower ranking officer as they roared across the landscape towards their next village on route. They had finally taken off and were able to pass through several of their villages already. It had only been a day and they had yet to see any sign of the rebel forces they were warned about. His men were all on edge, expecting an attack at any moment, but if they weren’t then he would be concerned for them.

All of the villages they visited had traded rather eagerly with them after he had explained the situation and the seeds to them. The seeds, if planted within the next few days, would give them another harvest before the end of the season. He was glad to see them take them and promised the same next year.

“Captain, Blue Lion Company just spotted the rebels on their route,” Pitt told him.

“Did you talk to Red Lion recently?” he asked.

“No, they didn’t respond to our transmission. We tried to reach Yellow Lion as well but to the same result. Do you think they made hostile contact?” The Commander frowned as he heard this suggestion. The radio transmissions were not poor at all across the planet of Resembool as there were very few mountains to block their signals. They should have been able to reach the other companies even as far away as they were. He didn’t want to admit it to Pitt, but there was definitely something wrong with this scenario.

“How much crop do we have?” he asked the officer.

“Excuse me?” Pitt said, as if he didn’t hear him right.

“How much crop did we collect? We went to six villages already so we should have a substantial amount. How much do we have?” he repeated. The lieutenant looked down at his clipboard which papers were battering hard in the wind that was rushing through the carrier’s open doorways.

“One thousand four hundred and forty bushels, Captain.” The Commander cursed as he heard that number. They needed two thousand bushels to get their portion of the quota. They needed at least two more villages to reach that. They needed to finish their route. If they had a surplus at the previous villages he would have taken their troops straight back to their post. However, they needed their quota or else General Greed would pull another one over on them which would be far worse than any rebels could do to them, or even worse it could have been Lieutenant General Lust. In many cases, more than there should have been, Clones and Storm Troopers who did not fulfill their missions were scrapped, regarded as waste and killed for treason in others. However it was just stupid of him to lead them right into the enemy where there could have been ambushes set up all along their route.

He worried about the other companies in the Avarice Battalion. Resembool was an important planet, a strong hold in the support of the Central Troops however it lacked protection. Only soldiers from the Extravagance Corps who specialised in supply, transportation, and support were stationed there. Though all of them knew basic combat skills, they had little protection from the Vainglory Corps who made up nearly the entire infantry of the Central Army. The Avarice Battalion’s main objective was to feed the legion. Now that Red Lion Company and Yellow Lion Company were unresponsive, it was assumingly left to only two small companies of only forty men to protect the entire planet from the Rebel forces. Since the Central Empire took over the planet, they never made an appearance on Resembool until today, and the Commander found this extremely unsettling.

“Lieutenant, what should we do?” the Commander asked suddenly which greatly offset the man more than anything.

“W-what- Sir, I know I am the convoy commander but… I think you should decide for this one. It could get serious-”

“I am not asking you as the convoy commander. I am asking you as a friend, Pitt. What should we do?” he rephrased.

“I… I…,” Pitt stumbled not knowing what to say. It was unheard of that a Commander would ask a simple Lieutenant anything on their opinion. Soldiers of the Central Army weren’t supposed to have opinions. After a little bit he cleared his throat. “Honestly I think we should follow through with this. Though they are out there, we are armed, we can fight. We won’t go down easy. We weren’t programmed to fail.” The Commander smiled at that comment and chuckled.

“You’re right with that,” he laughed.

“Captain, you made something great and giving it out to the villager’s definitely will make great progress in this bare planet, not to mention make our quota that much easier to obtain. We didn’t come all this way just to pass up our balls in the hallway. If they come we need to show those scum what we can do, what we are really fighting for.”

“Very well,” he agreed. “the next town over should be Xenotime and then Liore. Let’s finish this thing.”

……..

The town of Liore was very quiet and Captain ED-0001 didn’t like it. The shutters were locked on some of the houses and the square just seemed abandoned. He could have assumed that it was because they were coming to take away a portion of their crops and that they didn’t want to be pillaged again like all of the previous times, but even for that the town seemed too eerie. He had his men unload the seeds and put them on small transports so that they could move them through the village. The quicker they got this over with, the better it would be for all of them.

“I don’t feel good about this,” the Commander said to Lieutenant Pitt as he hopped off of the carrier they were riding with his blaster rifle in tow. He never really liked blasters. They were too impersonal when you killed someone. It just felt senseless. He used it to get out of the academy he was placed in and never touched one since. Pitt nodded his head as they watched the company line up the small transports. “We might have to make a run for it after we get the crop.”

“You know I can’t run,” Pitt told him nervously, referencing his developmental defect that resulted from his giant frame.

“Well try as fast as you can, if you can’t make it I will carry your ass back to the post,” the Commander grumbled. He didn’t even look at his subordinate when he said that as his eyes were too busy scanning the building’s windows. They were all eerily vacant.

“I will hold you to that,” the man smiled.

The Commander and the lieutenant started to walk towards the trading post at the end of town with first platoon in firing squad formation. He thought it to be best if they weren’t just bunched up in a mess where the potential Rebel forces could have just dropped a grenade on them and be done. The Commander ordered First platoon to head out first with Blue squad and Red squad spaced out on the left and right correspondingly. Second Platoon will follow and third would guard the carriers. He knew that in this way it could have been more difficult to take them out as a group and have to try individually. However, he just hoped that his precautions didn’t have to come into play. This was their last stop on their route, their last few pounds of crops they needed to gather. This was the last place they needed trouble.

Their squad lead the officers to the door, quickly securing the area around the shop. Lieutenant Pitt handed him the clipboard that he carried at his side at all times. It held the inventory that Sergeant Supply provided on their seed and crop counts. It was updated every hour and after every trade just to ensure its accuracy. He did not want to lose anything and did not want to take any extra risks. He took it and looked it over once as the Lieutenant took up a position by the door.

“I got us covered out here, make it quick,” he told him.

“Quick is my middle name.”

“You have yet to tell me your real name you know,” the Lieutenant smirked and the Captain glared at him.

“Well you have my middle name now,” he snipped but the Lieutenant just waved him off. The Commander took in a huge breath as he carefully opened the door to find the shopkeeper waiting lazily behind the counter like nothing was the problem until he saw their helmets. The Captain recognized the man as the same person who gave them trouble when they had first began designing the seeds and it seemed he wanted to stir the same trouble there. The man was absolutely mad during the whole exchange. He started cursing the existence of the Central forces and seemed even ready to fight him one on one though armed with nothing but his bare hands. They were definitely really upset by the Battalion’s past treatment even with all of the aid they had provided to make up for it. The Commander had to calm him down from an angered rant to even explain to him what they were trying to do. He was very offset by this idea however luckily agreed to listen. The Commander tried to give the man his description of the genetically altered seeds but the man had absolutely no knowledge of science. He thought he was trying to trick him and the Commander had to constantly rephrase himself to get the point across. It was taking nearly twice as long as it should have and he felt his nerves reach their breaking point. He mentally apologised to the Lieutenant for not listening to his orders on being quick about it.

“And why do they grow so fast?” the man asked for the thirteenth time. The commander took in a deep breath to calm his annoyance with him.

“Okay, think about it like a vehicle right?” he said stiffly. “It can keep going until it runs out of fuel just like you keep growing until you reach a certain age. We just made these seeds more efficient to reach that point faster, like me. I grow to a normal maturity of 24 years of age in only ten years. This seed can be fully grown in only a month.”

“And-” the man started in for another question but he angrily cut him off.

“Look the whole idea is that we are trading you this seed for the food so that you could plant it and get another harvest in before the frost. Why is that so hard to understand!”

BOOM! There was a loud explosion from outside that rattled the entire shop and sent both him and the keeper to the ground. The dull sound of blasters firing and screaming of orders could be heard through the walls and the Commander had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He stumbled to stand up but another explosion sent him back into the counter. The Rebels were here. They were waiting for them, all of Avarice Battalion was getting hit and they were the last target.

“But where were they hiding?” The commander mumbled under his breath. The Rebel forces couldn’t have flown in or else they would have seen them and his troops would have signaled. He felt himself freeze up as he realised that they were already in the town. He was an idiot, he walked the entire Green Lion Company right into the middle of a trap.

He quickly tried to unhitch his rifle from its sling but before he could reach it he was pulled back, an arm reaching around his neck choking him. The Commander gasped as he tried to pull the store owners arm off from around him but he wouldn’t let go. It only got tighter

“That was a mighty fine deal you had there but your stupid troops have been ravaging our towns for too long,” the man grunted through his teeth as his arm tightened around his neck. If it wasn’t for his helmet he guessed he would have felt the man’s blood thirsty breath on the back of his head. His lungs burned for air and he felt himself gag as his lungs started to give out. The man was stalling the whole time. He was stalling him in the store so that the Rebels could have gotten into position. He couldn’t believe he was that stupid to fall for it.

 The Commander struggled to reach down to his belt and grab his rifle where it was still slung. It was bulky and he managed to misfire into the wall of the shop as he tried to swing it around his side. The bolt sizzled harmlessly into the wall creating a scorch mark where it had hit. The Commander felt the arm tighten even more and he thought his neck might have snapped under the pressure as the store owner realised what he was doing however the man was too slow to stop him. With blind aim behind him he pulled the trigger purposefully and suddenly the arms fell slack and he gulped in air greedily through the filters on his helmet. His throat was on fire as if he drank an entire flask of Lava. Though he definitely just saved his life, quite literally his neck, he didn’t even want to look behind him to see the man he just shot.

Suddenly the door to the shop opened and the Commander raised his weapon at the person charging in. Before he pulled the trigger however, he stopped himself as he saw that it was Pitt. The man started to pick him up in a rush, jabbering about something incoherent to him.

“The squad, it’s gone! We don’t know where they are coming from-”

“The buildings. We need to find cover. We need to get back to the carriers,” he ordered him. The Commander pressed the button on his communicator and brought it up to his face.

“Third Platoon, this is Captain ED-0001, get the carriers running! Get everyone on the transports, do you copy?” he yelled into it. There was static filled silence and he felt fear lick his nerves. He pushed the button in and tried again. “Third Platoon, this is Captain ED-0001, get everyone to the transports, do you copy?” But it was to the same result. He looked over to the Lieutenant who was checking the doorway to see if the coast was clear to make it through. The Commander didn’t even have to look very far to see some of the soldiers from their squad laying flat on the ground, red coating their white armor. He rushed over to the Lieutenant and grabbed his shoulder.

“Pitt we need to go, now,” he told him. The man nodded his head and they rushed through the doorway. They ducked behind some barrels that were outside the shop. The sound of blaster fire was loud and near deafening in their ears. They tucked their knees into their chests so that they were completely covered behind the barriers. If their legs were shot then there was definitely not way they were getting out of there.

The commander peered out from behind the barrel and he saw some rebels race across the street in their stupid blue uniforms. He never knew why they wore something so bright with little armor at all but it surely made their jobs easier when they had to be. He shot a couple blasts out of his rifle and the two men fell amongst the white armor of his own fallen soldiers. They wailed and cried from their injuries but were incapacitated from the fight.

He felt his breath hitch as he realised how many of his own men scattered the street. It looked like nearly all of first platoon was gone. He couldn't hear fire from the left or right meaning that his two other squads were gone. Third platoon was unresponsive so he could only hope that second was holding out. He just didn't understand. How could the rebels have killed so many of them if they were so spread out. The mortars couldn't have wiped out his entire platoon, it wasn't possible, and the rebels riflemen were terrible shots. There was no possible way, unless….

“They have a sniper,” Pitt exclaimed as he fired a few shots into the fray.

“Where?”

“Up in the second story window, few blocks down lefts side!” With his directions, the commander quickly peered around the barrels they were behind and scanned the buildings. He caught sight of an open window on a cottage few blocks down. He could just barely see the tip of a blaster sniper rifle sticking out of it when red hot bolts fired in the direction he assumed were his men. Unfortunately, he wasn’t naïve enough to think that they missed. He quickly picked up his communicator and tried to contact them.

“Second Platoon, this is Captain ED-0001 come in,” he said into his communicator. There was static and he felt himself hold his breath. Was anyone going to pick up? Who was left? Just as he was about to try again he heard a scratchy voice through his helmet.

“Sir, this is Sergeant DD-9980, they are creaming us out here. We have nowhere to go, stuck on the corner of third, dead end alleyway, over.”

“There is a sniper up in the cottage across from you, do you think you can get them?”

“Negative, they have us pinned down, we can’t move-”

“What about your other squad?” the Captain asked.

“They’re all dead, sir! Mortar fire got ‘em. They’re gone!” The Commander sucked in a huge breath and looked over to where the Lieutenant was covering him. She could not have put it any better. They were getting creamed.

“Sergeant, try to get your men out, I will try to take care of the sniper,” he told her.

“But, sir-”

“Over and out, Sergeant,” he finished. He reached over and grabbed the Lieutenant’s blue pauldron and shook his shoulder. “Come on, we need to get over to that building. I need you to cover me until I get to that wagon over there. I will suppress fire till you follow, alright?”

“But Sir-”

“Don’t call me sir, Pitt,” he scolded him, “not now.” The lieutenant nodded his head and shifted his fire to the buildings on their right. The commander noticed that there were some Rebels camped out in the windows. He would have to make his run quick. As soon as Pitt started firing, he was out running towards the wagon in the middle of the street where a whole bunch of rubble was piled up from the previous motars. He ducked and dove behind the structure and assumed his own position to cover his friend. He motioned for him to follow him and he started to fire at the men in the lower windows. He managed to get one of them but his fire soon caught their attention. Pitt slammed into the wall of the rubble next to him, slouching real low as his tall figure could barely fit behind it. He was panting heavily, the short run having winded him too easily.

“Where to now, Cap?” he asked as he peered over the wall of their cover just to almost be shot in the head. The Commander yanked him down out of the way as he got up and shot another soldier out of the lower cottage window.

“Where the second artillery round hit, there was some upturned stone and a fountain that would provide enough cover for us. It’s farther than it was to get here. Can you make it?” he asked him.

“Ye-yeah, I think I can do that,” the Lieutenant huffed as he tried to calm down his breathing. The Commander glared at him and grabbed the chest plate of his friend’s armor, bringing him right close to his face.

“Can you make it?” he asked him more sternly. There was brief silence but the Lieutenant nodded his head.

“Yes, definitely.” The Commander looked him over once but then nodded his head in return. They needed to make it. If they didn’t take out that sniper they were all dead. The Lieutenant picked up his rifle and began to fire rapidly, giving the Commander enough time to sprint off towards the new designated destination. He saw a few rebel soldier approach on land and he gave them a few blasts to the chest as he scrambled into their new position. It was a rather large outcropping of rubble, the stone was turned up in just a way that if you stood in the center you would be protected on nearly every side they could have easily placed at least three storm troopers there. However, the Commander was still questioning how far the sniper could see down the street.

The Commander quickly set up a position and motioned Pitt to follow like before. He started to fire at the last few Rebels. He didn’t hear firing from any other forces. He didn’t know where Second Platoon was, if they were still there or not. They were approaching where the Sergeant said they were but he couldn’t see her or her subordinates anywhere. As he shot another Rebel out of the cottage he heard a sudden yell. The Commander felt his heart freeze. He didn’t even have to look to know what happened. The lieutenant was hit. Pitt was hit. He dared himself to glance over and saw the Lieutenant lying just a few yards away from the makeshift cover with a pool of red blooming on his white and blue armor from his hip.

“PITT!” he screamed not knowing what to do. He saw the man’s panting breath’s through his armor. He couldn’t run fast enough. The Commander cursed himself as he wrapped the sling of his rifle around his arm and fired one last shot, clearing the windows of the Rebels in the southern section they were running through. He quickly pushed himself up and sprinted out to where the man had fallen.

“I asked you if you would make it!” The Commander growled as he fell to his knees next to him. The coast was clear but he didn't know for how long.

“I will never lie again,” the man wheezed as he held his wound. It didn’t look like it hit anything vital, but it needed to get medical attention quick. The Commander touched it lightly and the man winced.

“Shut up you idiot,” the Commander scolded him and quickly lifted the man up slinging him over his shoulders. The man weighed a ton since he was so tall, but he forced himself to carry on. The man yelped as his wound was digging into his shoulder. Sprinting as fast as he could, he carried the man to cover and nearly threw him in before tumbling in after him. The lieutenant screamed as he landed, his wound jarring even more, spewing out what little part of it wasn’t cauterized by the heat of the bolt. The Commander scurried over to him, keeping his head down incase there were any bolts aimed for it.

“I hate being so fucking slow,” he groaned as the Commander started to rip off his armor to get a better look at it. Luckily their black under armor was designed to also work as a compression bandage and it was skin tight. He tossed the heavy armor to the side and looked at him. He was bleeding, badly, but it seemed to be only a couple inches deep, the armor taking most of the blow. To have penetrated their armor the bolts must have been high caliber or else they would have just dispersed like a huge sock in the stomach, leaving you breathless, but alive. The commander reached into his small personal medical kit and pulled out some creme to cleanse the wound as much as he could at that moment.

“Shut up, you will live,” he huffed at the lieutenant as the man started whimper as he massaged the paste in as best as he could. It was nasty stuff and burned like hell, but if it kept you alive for a little longer they would do anything. “I promised that I would get you out of here didn’t I? Even if I had to carry you.”

“Cap…,” the man mumbled after a long pause where the Commander was able to bandage his wounds up a bit. “I don’t think any of us are getting out of here.”

“Don’t say that, Lieutenant-”

“You know it’s true!” Pitt retorted.

“Yeah? Well I still don’t need you to say it!” he yelled at him. “I am going to get you out of here! We will find second platoon and -”

“Sir-”

“Don’t call me Sir!” the Commander shouted. However just as he finished he heard a hot sizzling crackle through the air. A red bolt of fire pierced his shoulder right between his plating and he was sent flying backwards with the force. He screamed as he felt the bolt burn his skin, his muscles, and even his bones as it went straight through him. He hit the ground in a daze and everything went quiet for a minute. He growled obscenities and he rolled over like a worm, pain igniting in his arm like he never felt before. He fell back to the ground helplessly as he tried to get up but his right arm was a dead weight. He hit his head back off of the stone. The Commander cursed the high heavens as he grabbed his right arm in his left and dropped it, knowing it was completely numb.

“Sir!” he finally head the lieutenant scream.

“Fuck off Pitt!” the commander cursed at him, fire and anger breathing out his nose. Keeping his head down he crawled back over to where Pitt was laying, rubbing dirt in his wound along the way. He go to Pitt’s side and flipped over on his back. “Lieutenant, I need your communicator-”

“My.. but why-”

“I can’t move my arm,” The commander admitted to him.

“Your arm-” the lieutenant started but cut himself off as the commander nodded his head. He couldn’t feel it at all. He didn’t know if it was because of the bolt’s energy, his adrenaline, or because it really was busted but he couldn’t use it. He would have used his own communicator but he couldn’t push the button if it was on his left arm and his right was out of use. Pitt,  after a moment of acceptance, leaned over and held his arm near the commander’s face. The Captain pressed the button with his working hand and called into it.

“Green Lion Company, this is Captain ED-0001, I am ordering all remaining troops to find safety. Get out of here if you can and return to the post, do you copy?” he said to anyone who would listen. There was static, but the lines were all silent. He felt a lump in his throat stick and he tried to clear it as he pressed the button again. “Green Lion Company-”

“Sir,” he heard the Lieutenant’s voice mumbled through his helmet. The commander looked up from where he sat and over to his partner. The blue emblazonment and pauldron symbolizing his rank and position stood dirty, bloody, from their failure of a mission. The commander could almost see the hurt in the clone’s eyes through the dusty helmet on his head. They were pained, but not of his wound, of something even more substantial than that. “Sir, I… I think we are done.”

The commander felt his entire being go numb as he looked around. The village that they were planning to feed, to save in a sense, stood in rubble from the fire fight. There was broken down buildings, fires scattered. Their mission had left the town in desolation. All he wanted to do was to change it, to make it better, but now like Pitt had said, they were done. He didn’t know how many soldiers died so far, but he knew in his heart that Green Lion Company was no more. He heard the patter of feet behind him and the light humming of charged weapons. He looked behind him to see the disgusting blue uniform of Rebel soldiers, pointing their blasters at them. Doubting they were set to stun, the Commander saw the Lieutenant raise his arms in the air. The Commander of Green Lion Company, Captain ED-0001, regretfully followed suite. They were through.

[soniabigcheese]

Oh could you so the story of alan and gordon's mule please?

Alan and Gordon’s Mule ... ah... hmm. Let me put my brain cells into some order here. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin.

It all started with Gordon’s return from the creek, minus one of his front teeth and proudly sporting a black eye. Lucy paid it no mind, she knew just how boisterous and energetic her second youngest son was, and falling into the creek was part and parcel of him growing up and having adventures.

Only, this particular day, he was also leading a rather bedraggled looking mule along with a rope noose hung limply around the poor creature’s neck. She was used to seeing stray animals being brought into the farmhouse and rolled her eyes. A mule. Incorrectly, she assumed that it had put up a fight, hence a rather battered and bruised, but triumphant looking Gordon.

Oh how wrong she was.

It was baking day and Lucy and her mother in law had the farmhouse door wide open with a couple of apple pies cooling on the windowsill. Gordon automatically reached across to grab one of the pies, when he received a rap on his knuckles and a scolding from his mother.

“Wash up first,” she scolded, “and leave that thing outside. We’ve just washed the floor and I don’t want it trailing dirt all over the place.”

She leaned over to the basket by the cooker and grabbed a couple of carrots.

“Before you do, give him these, he could do with a good feed.”

“Yes Mom.”

She didn’t question him, he’d give her his answer ... eventually.

He whipped the carrots from his mother and handed them over to Mule, who munched on them greedily, eyeing the apple pies at the same time. Lucy quickly noticed that look of avarice on the mule’s face and hastily moved the pies to somewhere safer.

In the meantime, little Alan had been busy playing with some dropped flour on the floor, and had spotted the mule. Hauling himself upright - he’d only just learned to walk and was still a little wobbly - (and using anything for a bolster) he managed to walk out of the farmhouse, towards the mule.

After much pleading, and realising that the pies were still too hot to eat, Gordon settled for an apple. He hoisted himself up onto one of the stools and bit into it, forgetting that one of his teeth was missing.

“Ow!”

“So, how did you find the ....”

Lucy waved her wooden spoon towards the mule, who was now standing with its head hanging over the split door.

“That was easy,” Gordon grinned widely, “I went down to the creek... and there I found a bunch of big boys kicking and beating that poor thing by the roadside. It was tied up and couldn’t do anything.”

Please don’t say you picked a fight with them.

“So I went up to them and told them to leave it alone.”

He took another bite of the apple and chewed noisily, wiping his nose with his tee shirt.

Lucy could feel herself rolling her eyes. Of all the boys, she never in a million years expected Gordon to be the one that would cause the most trouble. But ... here he was, sitting bragging about a fight he’d had with ...

“How many boys were there?”

“Three.”

She groaned. By the time he was through, he’ll be costing them a fortune on dental treatment.

“But I got em. They didn’t know what hit em.”

The mule brayed and snorted, before jumping backwards in fright. When they looked, here was little Alan, standing there, hanging onto the rope and looking adoringly up at this tall lanky creature, pointing, laughing and babbling in his own baby language.

The mule started, backing away. And that’s when Lucy started to panic, pushing past Gordon to get to Alan and the mule.

“OMG,” she breathed, “he’s going to take off and drag Alan along the ground.”

But that was what did NOT happen. Alan tugged the rope down, and cautiously, the mule lowered its head. clapping his tiny hands either side of the muzzle, Alan give the mule a sloppy wet kiss and giggled, clapping his hands. The mule’s ears twitched, and it swished its tail, before letting out a snort in the toddler’s face.

By then, Gordon had arrived with his half eaten apple and ruffled Alan’s hair.

“There, see,” he said affectionately, “he’s not a bad old thing now, is he?”

He crouched down and went to put the apple into Alan’s hand, but was surprised to see a cookie in there instead, and Grandma standing nearby, a knowing grin on her face. She patted his head and laughed softly.

“You know,” she said with a grin, “ you’re going to turn your mother’s hair white before you are through.”

They looked pointedly at the cookie.

“Meh, I figured it could do with a treat.”

She tugged at the mule’s ear and it snorted, munching happily at the cookie.

“Kinda reminded me of a mule I once owned when I was a little girl,” Ruth reminisced, “but that’s a story for another day.”

She nodded at Alan, who was sitting there, patting and cooing the latest addition to their family.

“Big boys, did you say?”

“Uh huh, about the size of Scott and John.”

Grandma smirked, rubbing her chin to disguise the fact.

“Hmm, Scott you say? Well ... I can’t wait to see what happens when those three meet ... did you give it a name yet?”

“We’re not keeping it are we?”

“Well ... it rather depends on if it’s owner drops by to collect it.”

“Cool. Thanks grandma. And he’s called ... Mule.”

[jknerd]

Snow White Chapter 34: Unbroken Sisterhood

[Using the powerful clans’ oppression as an excuse, Chi sent his two sisters to married off to Ju. Understanding Ju’s duty as a king, Seol agreed to let Hwangbo sisters married to him. Hwangbo Su who had always admired Seol, was taught by her with politics and decide to share their dream; the prosper the country with peace and no war.]

“…what?”

Chi remained his victorious smile. He then further told the king it was the only way to prevent the clashes of different clans. With gaining more supports from Hwangbo, the king will have more strength to bend the clans on his will.

“besides, without our support…who will protect the throne? Who will protect you?” Chi inquired as he raised his eyebrows.

Jung really wished he could behead this cursed child of his eighth brother but Baek-Ah managed to calm him. Cheon Chu-Jeon glared daggers at Chi as A-Ran did the same. Eighth prince’s son stood up and politely dismissed himself. He was about to leave until the door burst opened as queen Hunui Yoo Seol entered, much to his surprise. Everybody were tense at Seol and Chi’s silent presence. When she looked at Chi, she then spoke.

“You…” She pointed at him.

Princesses knew Seol’s tigress-like temper as much as Ju, Jung, Baek-Ah and Chu-Jeon was aware of.

“Get. Out.” Seol pronounced the word with icy tone.

Regained his composure and managed to hide the stricken expression, Chi bowed briefly then left the king’s chamber, followed by his wife Moon-Duk who could only gave her remorseful look. Seol approached to her family then.

“I’ve heard about the proposal from the official of Hwangju.”

Ju didn’t speak for a while. Sensing the anxiety, Seol sighed and gave them all her comforting smile as she sat beside her king.

“Your majesty,” Seol spoke with soothing voice, “please accept it.”

Ju frowned at her. Jung and Baek-Ah only looked down in guilt for they were unable to protect the two further. A-Ran’s eyes grew watery.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll always stay with you.”

Gyeongjong bit his lips. Seol slowly embraced him, letting her arms around his head. She gently patted his back with comfort.

“I’m very sorry, Ju…I couldn’t be strong enough to protect you.”

A-Ran silently cried in her husband’s arms. Jung and Baek-Ah only looked away in shame. The room was filled with tears and comfort as they were all looking at the grief-stricken king and his queen took in their arms for peace.

It’s been two days since the marriage between Ju and Hwangbo sisters. Two. Both Hwangbo Su and Hwangbo Seol. Everytime queen Hunui look at them, their eyes were filled with fear and anxiety. Chi was using them no doubt. Seol squeezed her fists as she think of their brother but regained her composure as she heard the announcement of two new queen’s arrival. She let them in and Hwangbo sisters bowed to her. Su was wearing a simple yet beautiful green and pink hanbok as her younger sister was wearing light purple and white ones. Even though Su was around Seol’s age, the youngest Hwangbo was still sixteen for heaven’s sake! Poor Hwangbo Seol was quivering out of fear towards the life of palace and its cruelty. With welcoming smile, Seol gestured them to sit down.

“It’s been a while, girls.”

They both merely nodded their head. In their eyes, Seol was more beautiful than the time she was wedded to Ju. In the sisters’ eyes, she was the graceful Snow Queen, or a Moon Goddess. For many years, they have admired the second queen for her rare willpower and her maternal love for her country. And they couldn’t bring themselves to compare with her. Su looked up with forlorn expression.

“Your majesty…”

“Enough with formality, Su. Just call me by my name when no one’s looking.” Seol smiled.

“…Seol…we’re scared,” Su continued, “my sister’s barely reached to seventeen and we don’t know about anything in palace…”

Seol was saddened at their distress. She could see that they were forced to become the queen against their will. Then as if she had an idea, Seol perked up with grin.

“If you don’t mind…then perhaps I could tell you or teach you about them.”

Hwangbo sisters looked up, hopeful.

“R—really?” Hwangbo Seol, Queen Hunjung asked with hopeful smile.

Seol nodded her head, promising.

“We may be queens, but you girls are always my sisters.”

“Thank you…,” Hwangbo Su, Queen Hunae muttered, “thank you so much.”

Even if Chi was planning on to harm them, Seol swore to protect her dear friends and help them how to defend themselves.

Another day passed and Seol was in Damiwon. She was making the cosmetics for the princesses until she heard the man calling out. She looked up and saw Wang Chi stood, bowed stiffly at her. Her smile transformed into a poised yet disdainful look as she stood up. When he was here, it meant his sisters were waiting for her. Even though she was looking forward to spend her time with her friends she kept her serene yet cold expression as she walked pass the Hwangju family. Her nose were up high, looking down at them with grace as she was either ignoring or unaware of Chi’s pained expression. She went outside and saw Hwangbo Su who was waiting anticipated. She also saw the man beside her.

“Su.”

Queen Hunae turned and her expression were brightened. Seol asked who’s the man behind her and Su introduced the stranger.

“He is Hwangju’s distant relative, Kim Chi-Yang, from Dongju.”

The man smiled as he bowed to the queen. Seol greeted him back and inspected the man. He was young, around their age or older. Judging by his clothes and hair, he was nobleman. His facial expression was genuinely polite and gentlemanly but Seol couldn’t help feel uneasy for Su.

“Let’s go to the tower bridge first, the sunrise is beautiful today.”

Su nodded her head and bid her goodbye to Chi-Yang who only smiled back with kindness and somewhat…intimate sense of emotion. Seol squinted her eyebrows but looked away as she led the way up to the palace.

Ju, Cheon Chu-Jeon, A-Ji, Jung, Baek-Ah and the princesses were watching two queens walking together at the tower bridge where they could see the view outside the palace. King Gyeongjong smiled as he saw both Seol and Su interacting as sisters. Two queens stopped as they were watching the sunrise as the light touched the grand surface, which it intrigued Su.

“Look afar, Su,” Seol began as she pointed at the ray of sunlight, “everything the sunlight reaches, is our home, our kingdom.”

Su could see the beautiful golden sunrise greets the sky as she could see the people aimlessly walking along with their family. The merchants were selling goods, children walking around, followed by their parents. The trees’ leaves were dancing alongside by the wind and flowers woken up by the kiss of sunlight and the water drop touched its petals. The third queen couldn’t help but glanced at them with awe.

“Like our great ruler Taejo, the kings’ and queens’ time as the parents rise and fall like the sun and the moon. One day, this sun and the moon will set our time and who knows, the new sun will rise with your son as the new king.” Seol smiled.

“Our home…,” Su mused with fascination, “we are the country’s mothers?”

“Yes…we are.” Queen Hunui replied with radiant grin.

Then they were going to their favorite lake Dongji. Su stopped as she saw the stone tower made by Ju for Seol’s mother Hae Soo. Both of them landed their stone above and gave it a brief prayer as they walked around.

“Everything we touch, see and hear has its delicate balance.” Seol explained.

“Oh, like Yin and Yang?” Hwangbo Su asked.

“Yes, as a mother of country we need to remember this. Our land was began with the land gods that guarded us. Granted us from grains to farming animals. Here, long ago whenever there was a war, we don’t bring gold along with us.”

“Then what did our ancestors got?” Su asked.

“They fetched their remained grains and rices. They needed the land to crop, raise their foods to survive and without them, the gold’s meaningless. As the time pass, we also need animals to farm and raise our food sources, thus we must respect our nation and people. But there are so many foreign lands that were after our kingdom. There are so many greedy men who wanted to own the most valuable lands and their greed, avarice, destroy all.”

“Khitan is still after Goryeo so we need more defenders to protect, right?”

“Correct. That’s why we have kings who could protect the lands from the ones who tried to dominate and corrupt. We need kings and queens like us to help our nation to balance this cycle of life. War will create the tragedy as much as the land need to protect from our enemies. Peace is the central association with the balance.”  

“King is the sun, the Yang, and Queen is the moon, the Yin.”

“This is the balance of life.”

Seol and Su glanced at the beautiful lake where the lilies and leaves were waltzing around. The water reflects the gold of sunshine as the tree surrounds the mirror of the heaven. Hwangbo glanced at Seol whose expression was serene and delicate. She now realized why she was born with the star of the queen. Hwangbo Su wasn’t born with such but Ji-Mong once assured her she did have the dignity of becoming a queen. Her best friend Seol indicated once that if something might happen to her, it will be up to Su in order to protect their home.

Note:

New chapter and character came up!

Kim Chi-Yang: He is young governor and nobleman from Hwangbo���s distant relation. His household was Dongju. He was well-known for his intelligence and cunningness, became Iron Empress’s lover.

Previous: http://jknerd.tumblr.com/post/156613326221/snow-white-chapter-33-his-secrets

Next: http://jknerd.tumblr.com/post/156705318621/snow-white-chapter-35-ice-palace

[wanderlust-journal]

An Essay on Home

On a recent winter night, I curled up on the worn velvet of a plushy chair in a spacious, if poorly lit, hotel lobby. As the clock struck midnight, my companions and I continued a lively conversation that had started with the drastically different climates of the places we call home. We considered the California current and the gulf-stream and the “rivers” of weather they bring, of micro-climates in both in Mexico and California and the strangeness of humans pretending to control life by building a wall between the two countries that are so inextricably linked.

The Geneve is an anachronistic hotel in Mexico City’s Zona Rosa district. A step back in time, men in long coats open the doors with a flourish, a statue of Porifirio Diaz guards the foyer, and live birds chirp from hanging whicker cages.

I’d spent the evening with my daughter, a friend, a Mexico City local, and the conversation flowed easily, a frolicking bilingual stream of consciousness.  We covered politics on both sides of the border, the future of journalism, the gauging costs of graduate school, global warming, growing up in big families, and the benefits and drawback of cannabis.

My daughter had been there six weeks, and her Spanish bubbled like champagne. A chronic illness warrior, she seemed healthier in Mexico, many of the symptoms fading to a low murmur. She wrote prolifically, her sense of adventure dominated, and she laughed easily.

At twenty-three, she is approximately the age I was when I took my first sojourn to Mexico and Guatemala.

In San Francisco’s wet winter of 1988, I saw a flyer for a one month trip to Mexico and Guatemala at an irresistibly low price. At least a priceIcouldn’t resist. The flyer showed pictures of hippies, college students and senior citizens traveling the countryside on a dilapidated bus, waving from the windows as the bus teetered on the edge of green hills. I’d been marooned under a three-month depression, each morning feeling like a painful slog even to get from bed to the tea kettle. My bones actually hurt when I reached the top of our steep hill every morning to catch the clanging metro to work.

I took the flyer home, drank a beer, then sent in my deposit before I could change my mind. My hand shook as I wrote the check, but once I dropped it in the mail, a rush a blood came from my heart to my head, and the air tasted slightly like hope. I quit my job, bought a plane ticket, and tried to practice walking with a backpack.

I arrived in the Mexico City airport anxious, sleepless, and feeling weakened by heavy back pack. I tried to navigate through a seething mass of people – women with children tied to their backs, business men rushing down the corridors, older couples pulling enormous suitcases, heavily armed guards.  The airport was enormous, the loudspeakers blaring in two or three languages, and sweat rolled down my back under my pack.

“Hola! Con permiso?”  I tried on various travelers who appeared to be locals. But they all had somewhere to be and little patience for the lost Gringa from California.

This was long before the time I might carry a cell phone, all I had were cryptic directions, scribbled in my notebook. My Spanish, learned years before in Madrid, was disappointingly rusty.  My chest grew tighte with anxiety and my feet hurt. I found a chair, and tried to calm myself, closing my eyes and calling up my inner strength.

When I came back to the present, I looked across the room and spied a group of disheveled hippie types, drinking coffee on high black stools, back packs at their feet. One of them had a bandanna tied to her back pack with the travel company’s logo on it. Thank God, these were my people.

Within a few days, I was scrambling up volcanoes, praying at temples, flipping a coin to see who bought the next round of cervezas, ill on the side of the road from ceviche, and chattering in Spanish like a hyper parrot to anyone who would listen to me. I’d found the “camino” to my happy place.  I found a confident, strong, relaxed but determined friend to travel with: myself.

The trip to Mexico thirty years ago started a love affair with the countries south of the border. It has led to evenings of joy, dancing in the streets – the way I always know I’ve truly arrived in Latin America- and to long nights of worry about the inhumane treatment of our Southern neighbors. It led to months of travel and stays in Mexico, Guatemala and Belize, immersing myself in the cultures, absorbing what I could of the history, art, political complexities and most of all, people.

My travels sowed the seed to the adoption, years later, of my youngest child, who made the family whole when we didn’t even know a piece was missing.  My concern for the immigrants’ experience in the US changed the course of my career, pushing me to public and advocacy for Latino youth.

Mexico eventually solidified my relationship with my husband. We shifted from dating to serious in a little town outside Oaxaca. We got engaged on the coast of Baja. Latin America was the setting where we our love emerged in the sun and we could see the metal we would use to forge our family.

Now thirty years later our daughter Casey, a journalist, was winding up her six week stay and planning for her return. Could she live in Mexico City, she wondered? How long would the free-lancing last?

In the prior few days, I had observed as she interviewed artisans in Oaxaca, joked easily with babies, mamas and an elderly taxi driver, shared her new avarice for Mexico City with me, and relaxed in the warmth of her friends.

In the morning, as we packed up to go catch a plane back to the States, she looked crestfallen. Her heart was a kite, caught in the tree of Mexico. I picture her standing below it, tugging on the fragile string.

“Mom, come help me get my heart down.”

I look up, noticing the goldfinches fluttering in the branches. If the metaphor holds, the tree would probably be carved with the initials of local school children, and there might be a few abandoned cigarette butts dropped among the roots that push through concrete. The branches would stretch high into the sky, however and yellow flowers bloom.

“No,” I advise her. “You can’t yank it down. Better to leave your heart here and come back soon.”

So we get our bags in the taxi and wave goodbye to Mexico. . . to long evenings in the fading light at the Zocolo while babies toddle by, their hands loosely caught in their abuela’s shawl. To buying trinkets from tired men, hoping they will use the pesos to eat something.

Goodbye to constant reminders of Guadelupe, to teen boys strutting across the plaza in tight t-shirts, muchachas roller blading the other way, to taxi drivers who explain the significance of Opera to us, and indigenous healers who literally blow smoke on Casey, determined to burn away her illnesses.

It occurs to me that home is not where you are born, or even pay your taxes. It’s a latitude. The place where gravity feels heaviest, where no matter how many times you go away, you feel the earth’s incessant pull to return, to surrender. To lie down on the ground and say “Yes. Here. Home.”

Casey doesn’t look at me as the taxi joins the wave of traffic, her eyes on the sun-splashed streets.

“Don’t worry,” I promise her. “You’ll be back soon.”

BIO: Joanell Serra MFT lives and writes in Northern California. Her debut novel, The Vines We Planted, (Wido 2018) was a finalist for the American Bookfest award (multi-cultural fiction category) and was chosen by the Latina Book of the Month Club. She has published stories and essays in Eclectica, Blue Lake Review, Black Fox Literary Magazine, Poydras Review, Gravitas, Meat for Tea and many other journals and has won awards for her stories and essays.

        The Latitude of Home by Joanell Serra An Essay on Home On a recent winter night, I curled up on the worn velvet of a plushy chair in a spacious, if poorly lit, hotel lobby.