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mrmajesticcircle · 11 months

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Red Hot

When I was a teenager spirit grazing in the high grass, I was taught that I was less than anyone on earth not just because I was black.

Because I was always a praying spirit, it made the embodied jury around me angry, it made everyone want to retaliate out misunderstanding.

How could they when they wanted me to serve the sacred crucifixion for someone else?

Someone else with a heart of stone.

Someone else that takes pride in my suffering.

He calls himself a King because he can cheat on his Abel and have a fling between two lovers.

What makes it worse is he is not satisfied, as he prys for information probing the city's good semeritans hardrive to successfully identify a face, address, name, number, occupational status, relationship between my biological father and potential lover.

Because he wants me to share his turmoil within his own namesake.

He wants me to be pressured into giving in to suicide while he boast about being more fit, more qualified, more appropriate for anyone easy on the eyes around my life in general.

The both of you agreed to put me through this weird one, and now you're telling me that you're Red Hot mad, because you got your chance to hit me with your best shot.

You come around flashing your love life in my face, then you say I am not panning over my girl.

You always have it your way, like burger king, it's gone way too far, and now I guess you can see, that I am Red Hot, I since that you are insecure, and afraid I might take your girl.

I don't even like your girl passed the friend zone.

You don't want to be, but you won't let go of me, and now I am telling you I don't have to be a better father, better provider, because you need one.

And I know now that you're Red Hot mad at me, because you won't see me bring home a boy, or girl to turn into your mind slaves.

You already turned everything and everyone else around against me, but I am not enough, but yet I the only one envious, because you looking for someone else to blame.

If you don't want me then don't talk to me!

Go ahead and free yourself, I tried to love you but it's hard, I've had enough!

Don't you know that I tried to love you, but now the love inside has died.

Why don't you be a man, if you're so hard?

Instead of make-believe what they say.

Now, that you've lived out your dreams for so long in my life, reigning down, and playing house in my life you are Red hot for no reason.

Mad at the things momma sacrificed for you, but it's not good in your soul, until I am no longer breathing.

Now, thirty seven years later you want to pretend to be my forever friend.

Telling me I'm all you got, in a world of sinners.

Through the spring, summer, winter, and falls I could not see the underlying enemies under my head heaping coal on my head.

A reflection of a misunderstood doll being under someone else's mind control in a dream.

Now, even though I suffer unusual firestorms, I don't usually say anything about it.

And now I am Red Hot mad at what's been going down on me.

You've been acting out of line, trying to steal and proclaim what is mine.

Always waisting my time, just to ensnare me through the vine, and poisonous wine, after the trying to meet reservations for two to dine, it was fine for the sign was blurry and then you told me I could stay overnight til tomorrow at nine, because ten thirty in the morning you had to go on and do what normal American citizens do punch in the clock machine, but you could not guess I figured it out, you were inflicting your persecution and all your cares on me, it was a pun intended on me to want to turn rage into a crime, you're saying something about me all the time High Point, low points, as if one moment I am your Messiah with broad shoulders carrying the weight of a million member family.

If you see Jesus branded in my ebony skin tone then let me know now.

Next thing I know I am not supposed to be, not supposed to have, nothing that anyone else besides your ku-klux-klan band should ever take off their Tee- shirt for especially if their a cowboy married to the gym, just working on their fitness from head to toe when they think about it.

And now because of you I am,

Being pushed away by boys and girls because they careless; don't want nothing but to watch me suffer, whilst they soak with the sun enraged at me.

One minute they want me down.

The next they want me up and Adam.

Then they want me under you.

Unfortunately, I am all alone, and their Red Hot mad, but until they realize that is what they nerves wanted all along, but under them.

Then they want me to encourage them.

Next, they want me to give up and leave.

Then they want me to be independent, turn around and then it's dependent.

Wanting me to be all alone, then tomorrow be similar.

Chasing men; chasing women; chasing cars and a purpose to find structure by upholding financial aid and fairy tales of where you should be in a blueprint.

All of this confusion; the toss tussle and tumble, makes disbelief , and now I'm Red Hot mad with you.

You want me back because I have anywhere else to be.

I don't deserve this and that and anything you lack, because you are mad at me.

Do you even know why you are mad at me?

Because everytime I turn around you either do or you don't and that includes how you want me to be.

You say you want someone serious, and extremely gifted or attractive to possibly be beating.

It's unclear to me what you want from me, and so starting with my orientation, I'll be the fagot America.

Now you mad, because you won't ever darkly replace me, I think I am the pride and the joy, of my four father's.

Get along, move down in your insurance, and your value.

Yes, you were here first, but of a different donor.

Yes, you were here first, but I am here now, to pastor your pastures.

You heard the story of a man child would be born someday, well I think I am, and deserve a chance, to build my table, since you don't want me to afford one.

It's understandable you want to be the only one, you're just another God with a lower case gee trying to imbalance the equation for your favor.

You like to make me feel for you, and now that I won't conform to and move like you to become straight for cakes, and pies you're just mad.

When you're around, I'll just turn it off, like a switch to dark seekers like you, who always want complete control and my undivided attention as company.

It's a shame because I am natural selection.

Sacrificed to be the girl you know, with a Red Hot body just to skyrocket your mind.

Now I'm Red Hot mad at the scenario.

You want me to be alone for you, and when you stay the night alone by me to use my shower, you wonder why I never noticed you.

Now, I've been living lying low , with my head pressed down towards the floor, waiting for the storm to blow right over me.

This is why I am going to bring all of my wings ,and fly down the middle over the line of fire you tried throw me in to burn.

Looking straightway at the mark, not looking to the right; to the left.

All I see is red!

Most people they want insidious things, like love, but not me.

Just give me the boat with lots and lots of cash.

Now, my fairy godmothers Red Hot, because I lost the will to love a girl.

Now, her inner circle is Red Hot furious, because I know who I am.

Who's I am still don't mean anything to them.

She can't sue me.

She can't run me over with the bumper of her motor vehicle that she doesn't realize I know she rented out.

She can't throw me away.

She can't control me.

She can't touch me the way she imagined.

She can't; you cannot, you won't touch me like he could.

And now their Red Hot livid with me, because everything they imagined they were and could get away with over me is not lining up for them.

The wicked witch of the west had two demon spawns, that are mad because they can't get accepted before I was, so they made an idiotic tale, that I touched them.

And now their tragedy is make-believing I touched them when I was never there.

It's sad people don't know what they have until it's gone, and now their Red Hot because they want to watch me become broken to pieces; to bitter to be any good, not strong enough to have something good for myself.

They all want me to be locked away for good, with the keys thrown in a bin.

Now that they are all Red Hot enraged by the fact I can prove something so walked on, can wobble in confidence in control of attending a community college, there's no room for me to let you in on the secret.

Let it go, if you're Red Hot vengeful, because everyone you know of, related to , or even dated is more peculiar then you say I am.

You keep singing aloud you're a sinner, but you won't get this.

Quit beating the streets down to find my door.

You don't need to replace me for the true target that should be in a pool of blood.

Be Red Hot angry at your consciousness, you lie to yourself tell yourself anything to make you happy and mad at me the next moment.

It's seemingly to me, the double vision you have a standard of is very clear.

You want to shred me into two, and give me away for four sheckles of siver, I just knew that you are as Judas, you'll sale your soul to the devil to be recognized in history.

And now be Red Hot mad at the way you only get accepted in the world.

When you pretend to be like me.

When things are too easy.

Where you can collect tokens, I can be all you need.

A Lifesize trophy.

A physician when you are broken, or ached with pain.

A doctor when you feel ill and unable to get out of bed.

A way maker when you have been through a bridge, and nobody else; nobody else; nobody else, nobody else, could fend for you.

A photographer only keeping all the positive photoshoots, and discarding all the negatives.

A punching bag when you're mad, like the situational irony you adhere today.

Living this life isn't hard enough, once you realize you don't have anything without me.

It's alright to deny the fact that you like to burn; melting down the reflection you hold up the mirror see you're nobody.

Not even to yourself, I like to see you pull yourself apart trying to fix the place inside that was never whole to start with.

It's why you're always looking for someone.

Searching for answers of retorical questions, deep in your soul you already know.

You're incantateous , desperate and impossible to please.

Please don't call me.

Look for my whereabouts I don't want to see you, hear you, empathy I can't feel.

It's alright; I know who you are and I don't love you anymore.

Don't feel sorry I'm walking on.

Be useful; do yourself a favor, when you get anxious, oppressed about what and who is on the other line in my phone.

Why don't you just drop dead, because you know I am always right.

Authorship by Mr Dashaun Snipes

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askglassanon · 1 year

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The Firestorm Situation

Tw: Blood tw: Child death tw gore

In the clearing of the forest stood a glass figure and a smaller cream colored creature.

He had large doe like eyes appearing black with brown gold highlights.

A round snout with a hint of pink on his nose, he had a long tail with a feathered tip, arms covered in longer fur then the rest of him aside from the base of his tail, his hands four fingered and clawed.

He had three red claws on each foot two for balance and walking the other for grabbing.

They were having a disagreement

*He bounds around her stopping in front her and lifting his arms*

*She lifts him off the ground nuzzling him lightly, The Molten Star Yokai thrills at the affection*

*His tail wags and he nuzzles her back before his smile shrinks and he looks down*

Okay.. I'll go back *He said quietly*

*She hums, adjusting his red heart sunglasses*

Good it's safer there then here *She presses their heads together*

You can visit tomorrow okay? *He purrs at the contact, tongue sticking out ever so slightly*

Mm hm! *He nods enthusiastically*

*She teleports them just outside of the small city and Firestorm shudders and sticks out his tongue again*

Something wrong Hotspot?

Do I have to go...?

I thought you said you were okay with going back Firestorm?

*He stares at the ground* It's okay. I just don't like the chill from sparking.

*She sets him down and ruffles his hair*

*He hugs her head reaching just below her chest, arms around her waist*

*He nuzzles into her abdomen and Beeps at her*

*He lets her go and waves ad he walks back into the quiet city*

See you later, dear.

*She makes her way back home enjoying the scenery as she goes*

PRISM!

*The cry fills her with horror and she runs back towards civilization*

FIRESTORM! WHERE ARE YOU!?

*She only stops because of the wall of people blocking the entrance* Where is he?

"He's learning the consequences of his crimes against Yokai."

But he's innocent and I've never seen him interact with a human *She pleads*

"That's because he didn't. He associated with you.'

*She tenses* So what the punishment for that? Jail? He's seven.

"Death. The Council agreed, he has committed treason is to be put to death."

Treason? Tell me where is he. Now!

*The Scorpion shakes her head*

"No."

That wasn't a question. *She growls*

HELP!

*She looks up at the scream and the Scorpion stabs near her*

She grabs her stinger pulls it from the ground and rips it out of Sofina*

AHHHHHHH- *The wailing is cut off and something in her snaps completely*

*She swings smacking away some of the members and stabs the Scorpion Yokai through the chest with her own tail*

*Neon pink poison drips from the tips as Neon green drips off her repurposed tail*

*She steps on a fallen Rhino, jumps into a Cougar's head and vaults over the wall*

*She runs towards the noise to find a crowd quickly dispersing*

This is where the warnings come in

At first she couldn't find the boy in the pool of blood.

She's sure she saw bits and pieces that were meant to be inside the body if Firestorm's anatomy books were anything to go by.

*She couldn't see it at first his soft pale fluff dyed red-orange and she drops to her knees, the rose liquid splashs*

*She gently picks up his head, pulls it in her lap, blood drips off the head and down her arms*

The world slows down

*She sends his head away in a spark slumping forward*

"This wouldn't have happened if you left him alone."

Like you did? *She voice soft unnaturally so*

"This is your fault."

*She stays silent after that and stands up, head to the ground, her hands crack rearranging themselves*

*She flexes her clawed fingers and pounces on the one talking to her. A Bull, with a mouth too big for his own good*

Screams fill the forest air, some birds fly off others set circling overhead.

#Ask Glass #Flashback to Reality Arc #Status: Plot Relevant

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sasorikigai · 3 years

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"we can throw stones, complain about them, stumble on them, climb over them, or build with them." you leave these two alone for long enough and they will get philosophical.

* QUOTES ABOUT LIFE LESSONS PROMPTS || @blindedronin || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || How does something that set fire to his bones suddenly chill his bones? How does a thing that was once so warm, grow so very cold? How does he go back to being strangers with someone who has seen his heartstrings and strands of his soul; for his soul is a flowing river, ever-expanding and burning. In one point of time, Hanzo Hasashi’s pain grew so great that there was a fireball lodged in his throat, floating in his head, its tendrils blazing out his eyes in pouring magmatic smoke, enveloping his chest, and finally raging through his veins, threatening to burst him open in detrimental immolation.

The quintessential pain of the pyromancer’s was traded with the sound of flesh, frozen icicles entering his skin, as it would become torn, serrated and distorted. His face fighting the telltale contortion originated in fear and despair. How the screams of the unjustly slaughtered filled his ears, their blood, trickling down the jagged landscape of Netherrealm and filling Sea of Blood, and he would endure various weapons and torture devices were utilized to completely break and disintegrate him down to ephemeral smoke and ash. Hanzo Hasashi may still scent the stench of death in the air; heavy, like it was about to fall onto his suspecting head, breaking the defiant resistance of his magnanimous fire.

Hanzo Hasashi’s heart beats and pumps sorrow into his veins; a slow-acting poison that would attempt to kill him slowly enough to grieve himself before he is gone, but Shirai Ryu warrior had long whizzed past that step. Now, a chill runs through his bones, even though it is the pinnacle of humid summertime. “I have my fire, it often is filled with melancholic spell, and my heart would be consumed by it. Fire breaks through and I often feel heat I cannot even endure, for there is a fissure that runs deep inside my heart. So deeply I am still perplexed it has not yet been broken beyond repair.” despite the Grandmaster having erected himself as a pillar of unquenchable fire; withstanding, tall, towering over any tribulations and trials, lest he could still taste the blackened ash, shriveled flesh, and the stenches of unnamed gravestones.

He will willfully bear his burden like a forgotten dead man buried. Carry everyone who had perished beneath the Lin Kuei blades on his shoulders and wrap them in an ode to rolling graves that were once rolling hills of the nested Original Shirai Ryu and the growing seed that was long planted as the reflection of the rebuilt Shirai Ryu towered over, cradling the warriors. “I let the past engulf me for so long, so I could ephemerally taste happiness for a moment long. I took myself down with me in those rolling graves, hellbent on believing that I would never see the shining sun from the growing tenebrous darkness. I have never expected to find such remarkable familiarity, as my unforgotten memory still continue to resurface, threatening to avalanche and bury me beneath the weight.” How firestorm of his thoughts howl and thrash, Hanzo Hasashi’s mind dancing with the chaos and finding comfort in its embrace. The things left unsaid are the ones that matter the most; caught in his throat, as his tongue pleaded, but found only his teeth to offer release in disquietude in their solitude.

In due time, the withered shadows will completely disappear, for my proverbial hellfire still transmutes my being, pressing and sculpting me into new shapes, new weapons, new responsibilities, as fire continues to lick at my heart. Grandmaster Hasashi’s solemn, regal reflection speaks, as he silently challenges Kenshi with such perceptive, penetrative gaze. What a beautiful thing it is, to be able to stand tall and say ‘I fell apart, and I survived.’ “Have you made a valiant effort to not let the avalanche of your past bury you six feet under? What do you so desperately desire in this moment, if you can blaze through them as its compression melts in the blazing colors of magma?” ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion)#✗ seeking reconciliation with his own humanity (iii)#(relationships; kenshi)#blindedronin

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dantesinfcrno · 4 years

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𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑨 𝑮𝑨𝑷𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑶𝑳𝑬.

His shoulders carried lives that did not belong to him. As he cried, birthing storms as his heart sung war cries, a crown of thorns bit his skin –– sweet child, unborn, interrupted. Bleed, was the command bestowed by the skies as they parted in rage. Graceless infant, you will be torn. The body he inhabits is merely a vessel –– and he finds himself capable of shapeshifting, ravenous beast devouring the world. Mother dearest, unforgiving: handed him the sun, allowed his hands to burn. Embers are piling over his ribs, dust filling his lungs. Hold this until you're seething –– open your greedy mouth and swallow the flames, were the words barked down at him. Carnivore, eat yourself alive. He dared survive, and now it would haunt him. Take a dying breath, and you shall be free –– but he chooses to remain alive, a bearer of an entire inferno, for heavens would grant him neither absolution nor mercy. Revenants were the spirits he bore, penumbra enclosing his irises: the undead, wailing, firm grasp on his shoulder –– and they pushed until his head was underwater, until he drowned, until despondent pleas drenched his very core. An heirloom held to his heart by callous hands, a prayer pleading for his destruction. Matriarch sweetest, bellowing: I could not sacrifice you in my altar, but it remains your birthright. Holy water tastes of salt –– he drags his tongue over his wounds, gaping fissures in the urn he was molded into being. Lilith comes to him once constellations have created a path in his skin, a snake tightening around his neck. Child, stripped of purity, gifted with a blade. Sink this dagger onto your chest, and become a god–– sunk a dagger onto himself, became a corpse, rotten–– became a dead boy, walking. His nerves are bullets, pressed inside his flesh with refined cruelty. Pain is an opulent currency he exudes, gilded chains branding his neck as an offering. Is he a target or a threat? The wolves prostrate before him, regardless of the answer. He is not a son, but a weapon. He is ruins before he could ever be whole: he counts bodies as one would count sheep. Sunlight does not bless him with delight –– trembling hands are intimate with survival, his only silver lining a dying breath that never comes (he dreams of it once exhaustion covers his limbs, but it remains unreachable). Dante –– unknown, unnamed, unloved –– embraces the Devil; sutures his skin; poisons himself. Blade against aorta, war raging on his pulse, ownerless. He is running through thorns, barefooted, sempiternal cycle. You won't be a lamb to the slaughter if they do not catch you –– if you butcher them first.

Boy, stolen, abducted. Hunters look at him and see golden: human converted into money –– no longer breathing as he is dragged across the woods. The birds remain quiet: a death sentence. His family won't search for him–– won't even begin to miss him as he shudders his last words. He isn't Midas, but a wicked curse –– these men will howl his name, and the forest will hear it. Eight days pass him by; seven nights consume his flesh. Frustration grows as a thick fog, soaking his captors in anger. Glass shards are raised to his jugular –– as if he did not know this pain before, as if Death was not a looming threat, as if Thanatos did not inhabit the vultures chained to his heart. They spit on the grave that is his body and offer no clemency. Unfortunate pick he was for a ransom, as nobody is waiting for him outside this clearing –– and he pays for this, agonizing hours of torture as he supplicates to be remembered. These are wounds that never heal, scars shaped of humiliation, scarlet drawn on his skin with blunt knives –– the only permanence he knows of: this throbbing ache, this parasite spreading through his roots. His tongue was ripped out of his mouth: a ghost undeserving of a voice, throat consumed by worms. He is but an unholy burial ground: the moon rises, demanding blood. It spills from Dante's mouth; oozes from the words he dares not to speak. Cloaked, glorious Reaper presses cadaverous claws on his shoulder. Dante bites them off, spits them out –– he becomes acquainted with Ares, war drums crushing the festering hummingbird, corrupting his center. Lucifer a phoenix, rising above his ashes. Who could you become but yourself? An ouroboros; lethal–– silver arrows, an eclipse. Mother, I brutalized myself. Mother, I am born again. Mother, I have grown wings –– they have lacerated me open, my back is shattered porcelain, every edge a hazardous peril. Mother, I have murdered to find my way back to you –– do you love me yet? Has my blood become ichor, have I become a god?

No. Sinful beast touched Heaven, poisoned it –– punishment is an endless flogging. There is no skin to be tainted: necromancer, undressed, prophecy an apsis high in limpid skylines.

Boy, body, turns his back on the living.

Boy, dead; blasphemy sizzling on his lips.

Boy, mausoleum; cryptic hemorrhage standing on trembling knees.

Dante /ˈdan.te/ proper noun. ¹an oath made upon gore, stained by carnage. ²midnight sun, simmering. ³a case study in fractured oceans, a corpse hidden in abyssal depths.

–––––––– It is not a definition he has written himself. Mercutio traced it over his body, held it over his head. A feral child turned into fodder for sadistic tasks. The pain is no longer his, as news articles pile upon his predecessor's desk –– he has to share it all, rotten abrasions slashed anew to entertain bejeweled eyes. Each scar exposed elicits a firestorm within his chest –– outnumbered, thrown to the wolves once more. Endure, retaliate. It's all he has ever known. He settles –– vile, resentful, roots shifting into thorns. He desired one sweet embrace, and this is what he received. Misery, as he laid on the opulent manor. Hell, not vermilion flames, but gilded cages –– it scorches him, nevertheless, as he spews out a pandemonium at these false rulers. They hold him by thick chains, freedom mutilated, but the beast remains unowned. –––– I do not need your hounds at my feet. –––– he howls, hostility a downpour, talons threatening to come alive at Mercutio's neck. A survivor that knows no fortresses, only relentless fists –– survival demands annihilation. –––– I do not wish to be your chosen one. –––– the love offered to him now felt like a bargain: feed me your secrets; show me the python that has devoured you; let me take the glory of beheading it. –––– Fuck you. –––– as tears refuse to drop from his eyes, another broken crown now confining his head as he is laid on Mercutio's bed once again. Angel: fallen, dismembered, enslaved. Love is trauma; Venus is Lucifer –– spirit broken for the first time as he finds a home. Eros has graceless hands, fingernails arrows against his trachea, taunting him to breathe. They can't purify a demon of its crimes; each shudder a threat against humanity. Tenderness seeks him out, takes a mouthful of his muscles, leaves him for dead. This is what you deserve for daring to remain alive. Dead fucking boy, heartbeat echoing–– he doesn't ask for help, no hands are guiding him to his sepulture. Act out, bite the hand that has never fed you, let a supernova burst at your fingertips, lace this world in your wrath. Unquiet dragon, make yourself known, make yourself feared. Lustful and avaricious deities imprint dirt upon your pulse, and you let them. Ophelia is a beast, he learns. Numb sacrifice, tasteless offering, a cataclysm. Powerless, derangement collapses over his skull as he wails, knees sunk to the ground. Meet your end: mute and forgetful, like everything you are. A funeral lead by merciless judges, no sobs to be heard but his own. Quivering lungs, smashed halos –– lamb turned wolf, unforgiven. Hold Death in your arms and make it your beloved –– a kiss laid for the crowns that bicker at his eyes: ravished resurrection.

#𝑽 : DEVELOPMENT .#𝑿𝑰𝑰 : REFLECTIONS .#uh.#yeah #body horror tw #to be safe?#violence tw #THANKS TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE J #WHO HAS MADE THOSE BEAUTIFUL GRAPHICS #to alleviate my ugly ass writing

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ceekbee · 4 years

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Anger

I feel very bad for angry people, for I see them creating their own hells to live in, and they usually don't even realize it. I've seen few things in the world that deserve the kind of anger that we see on a regular basis; on the radio this morning, one of the disc jockeys was telling about taking her mother to a cancer treatment center. She parked the car close to the entrance to help her mother into the center, and as soon as she was out of the car, the person in the car behind her started laying on the horn. This person actually came up and hit the back of her car with his car-- not hard enough to do any damage, but hard enough to let them know he was angry.

I feel very sad for this man. He can't be happy with life if such a trivial thing can cause such rage in him. Inner peace? Forget it. He's probably so busy looking for excuses to be angry that he never notices the beauty of the world, the wonderful parts of life, the nice people who surround him every day. I've known people like him, and there's no convincing them that life is wonderful, because it can't be since people are such jerks. But people aren't jerks. They do jerk-like things on a regular basis--we all do--but that doesn't make us jerks.

The angry person reacts in anger and causes others to be angry, and a cycle begins. My hope is that I'm able to be a person who ends such a cycle, a person who reacts to anger with love and understanding, because the angry people need that more than anything else.

Reacting in anger is merely perpetuating these people's belief that their anger is justified, but reacting in love may get them to question whether or not their anger is justified, effective, and/or helpful to them.

We can't psychoanalyze everyone we meet. We can't say this person is angry because she's been neglected, or this one is angry because he's trying to compensate for feelings of inadequacy. We need to separate the anger from the person, the creation of God who stands before us and who deserves our love.

When I'm tempted to react angrily myself, I try to remember to ask myself this question: Am I contributing to the anger in the world, or am I contributing to the peace and love in the world? I need to contribute to the love--we all do. Love is the only power that can cause a permanent change.

Of course, we have to look at the other side of anger--the side that gets us to act when we see an injustice done to another person, the side that causes the feeling of righteous indignation that gets us moving and feeling for others. There is injustice in the world, and as Arthur Ponsoby points out below, if our lack of anger is a sign of indifference, then it's a big problem for us and for those people with whom we share the world.

But we still have to control this anger, as Aristotle points out below. Unchecked and misdirected anger is destructive, and if we're to be angry at all, we want that anger to be constructive, not destructive. Controlling our anger takes learning and practice, and we have to keep learning from our mistakes and the mistakes of others to learn how to use our anger effectively, and to know when to recognize anger that's justified, and anger that's a reflection, a symptom, of something else that's going wrong in our lives.

Anger destroys the angry person and all those around him or her. The

angry father can cause fear and terror among his children. The angry

wife and mother can manipulate with a force and subtlety that can be

felt for years. Open anger roars through human relations with a

destructive force--a firestorm. The hidden anger that burns and attacks

and manipulates can last for years. It destroys the underbrush; it twists

and poisons the ground growth. And so with us. The ferocious exterior

flame is uncontrollable except over a long period of work and time.

We must isolate our anger and allow it to burn itself out.

Edward J. Lavin

quotations - contents - welcome page - obstacles

the people behind the words - our current e-zine - articles and excerpts

Daily Meditations, Year One - Year Two - Year Three - Year Four

Eugene Carman

Rhodes' slave! Selling shoes and gingham,

Flour and bacon, overalls, clothing, all day long

For fourteen hours a day for three hundred and thirteen days

for more than twenty years.

Saying "Yes'm" and "Yes, sir" and "Thank you"

A thousand times a day, and all for fifty dollars a month.

Living in this stinking room in the rattle-trap "Commercial."

And compelled to go to Sunday School, and to listen

To the Rev. Abner Peet one hundred and four times a year

For more than an hour at a time,

Because Thomas Rhodes ran the church

As well as the store and the bank.

So while I was tying my neck-tie that morning

I suddenly saw myself in the glass:

My hair all gray, my face like a sodden pie.

So I cursed and cursed: You damned old thing!

You cowardly dog! You rotten pauper!

You Rhodes' slave! Till Roger Baughman

Thought I was having a fight with someone,

And looked through the transom just in time

To see me fall on the floor in a heap

From a broken vein in my head.

Edgar Lee Masters

from Spoon River Anthology

How could I feel so miserable in the midst of such splendor? The question flashed

through me all at once, not waiting for words to express it. The answer came

more slowly: No one makes you angry. Anger, like love, is something you choose.

Stunned, I sat down in the middle of the field I'd been walking through.

I knew I needed to look within myself, let go of my anger and have a quiet talk with God.

Susan L. Taylor

No person can think clearly when his or her fists are clenched.

George Jean Nathan

Anger is a symptom, a way of cloaking and expressing feelings too awful

to experience directly--hurt, bitterness, grief and, most of all, fear.

Joan Rivers

Anger is not only inevitable, it is necessary. Its absence

means indifference, the most disastrous of all human failings.

Arthur Ponsoby

As long as anger lives, it continues to be the fruitful parent of

many unhappy children.

St. John Climacus

They are fools who cannot be angry;

but they are wise people who will not.

Proverb

anger 2

Anger in its time and place,

May assume a kind of grace.

It must have some reason in it,

And not last beyond a minute.

If to further lengths it go,

It does into malice grow.

'Tis the difference we can see

'Twixt the serpent and the bee.

If the latter you provoke,

It inflicts a hasty stroke,

Put you to some little pain,

But it never stings again.

Close in tufted bush or brake

Lurks the poison-swelled snake

Nursing up his cherished wrath;

In the purlieus* of his path,

In the cold, or in the warm,

Mean him good, or mean him harm,

Wheresoever fate may bring you

The vile snake will always sting you.

Charles and Mary Lamb

*place where one goes often

Anger makes you smaller, while forgiveness

forces you to grow beyond what you were.

Cherie Carter-Scott

Ruby stepped toward him. "Edward," she said softly. It was

the first time she had called him by name. "Learn this from me.

Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from inside. We think that

hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But

hatred is a curved blade. And the harm we do, we do to ourselves.

"Forgive, Edward. Forgive. Do you remember the lightness

you felt when you first arrived in heaven?"

Eddie did. Where is my pain?

"That's because no one is born with anger. And when we die,

the soul is freed of it. But now, here, in order to move on, you must

understand why you felt what you did, and why you no longer need to feel it."

She touched his hand.

"You need to forgive your father."

Mitch Albom

The Five People You Meet in Heaven

It is wise to direct your anger towards problems--not people;

to focus your energies on answers--not excuses.

William Arthur Ward

If you get angry easily, it may be because the seed of anger in

you has been watered frequently over many years, and unfortunately

you have allowed it or even encouraged it to be watered.

Thich Nhat Hanh

- From Living Life Fully

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ask-ephraelrhiannon · 4 years

Text

Ceridwen Playlist

I know I made this post somewhere before but I seem to have lost it. So I’m reposting it for the Ceridwen takeover!

Listen here. Songs (plus Important Lines) under the cut.

1. ¡Viva la Gloria!//Green Day

Don’t lose your faith to your lost naivete, weather the storm and don’t look back

2. Hot to the Touch, Cold on the Inside//Fall Out Boy

I am your savior now, I am your secret too, they’ve got us surrounded, we’re in their sights, but they’re not taking us alive

3. Scotland//The Lumineers

They all need something to hold onto, they all mean well, pay your respects to society giving me hell

4. For Those Below//Mumford & Sons

My mind is just like hers, just as broken, just as crippled, just as burned, but I find myself on top as a leader of the flock, called to be a rock for those below

5. What About You//Kongos

Stand your ground and take your aim, but don’t feel ashamed if you lose sight

6. New Genius (Brother)//Gorillaz

Do what you must do, don’t trust people you meet. They might promise you that the river ain’t deep

7. Sleepsong//Bastille

Your dreams and memories are blurring into one, the seams which hold the waking world will slowly come undone

8. The Way//Kongos

Awake, he said, sleep no more, you’re dreaming, I’m gonna show you the door, come on and let me show you the way

9. Listen Before I Go//Billie Eilish

Sorry can’t save me now, sorry I don’t know how, sorry there’s no way out but down

10. Thistle and Weeds//Mumford & Sons

Spare me your judgments and spare me your dreams, recently mine have been tearing my seams, I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind

11. ¿Viva la Gloria? (Little Girl)//Green Day

Your life is calling the charlatans and saints of your abandon, little one, little one the sky is falling

12. Heaven Help Us//My Chemical Romance

And would you pray for me, or make a saint of me?... And the punchline to the joke is asking, someone save us

13. The Driver//Bastille

The sun will rise with my name on your lips, cause everything will change tonight

14. Sound of Awakening//Walk the Moon

Until you pulled me into light, how could I know that I’d been blind? It was love at first sight when I opened my new eyes

15. Wolves Without Teeth//Of Monsters and Men

You hover like a hummingbird, haunt me in my sleep, you’re sailing from another world, sinking in my sea, you’re feeding on my energy, I’m letting go of it

16. Daniel in the Den//Bastille

It’s harder than you think, telling dreams from one another

17. Ode to Sleep//21 Pilots

I will set my soul on fire, what have I become? I’m sorry

18. Nothing Left to Say//Imagine Dragons

I’ve come too far to see the end now, even if my way is wrong, so I keep pushing on and on

19. Firestorm//Siames

It’s too late to lose control, it’s too soon to save your soul, you’ve already smashed your bones into the fire

20. She//Green Day

She’s figured out all her doubts were someone else’s point of view, waking up this time to smash the silence

21. Four Winds//The Killers

She just can’t remain with all that outer space, she breaks... You better look alive

22. Battle Cry//Imagine Dragons

I, I’ve been poisoned inside, but I, I feel so alive, nobody can save me now

23. Hurricane//Thirty Seconds to Mars

Tell me, would you kill to save a life? Tell me, would you kill to prove you’re right?

24. All the Good Girls Go to Hell//Billie Eilish

My god is gonna owe me, there’s nothing left to save now

25. All These Things That I’ve Done//The Killers

While everyone’s lost, the battle is won, with all these things that I’ve done

26. El Mañana//Gorillaz

I’ll be someone to find you. I saw that day, lost my mind, Lord, I’m fine

27. Outlaws//Green Day

You can’t go back, forever now, forever now you’ll roam

28. Gloria//The Lumineers

You crawled up on your cross, Gloria, you made us sit and watch, Gloria, did you finally see enough is enough?

29. Rootless//Marina and the Diamonds

Dragging my roots through the snow, no home sweet and no sweet home, I’ve got nowhere to go, I’m rootless

30. Stand Up//Kongos

Sit down, tell me about your freedom, look left, tell me how you lost your way

31. The Only Hope for Me is You//My Chemical Romance

Where were you when all of the embers fell, I still remember them, covered in ash, covered in glass, covered in all my friends

32. Doom Days//Bastille

Let’s pick the truth that we believe in, like a bad religion, tell me all your original sins.

33. Still Breathing//Green Day

I’m like a child looking off on the horizon, I’m like an ambulance that’s turning on the sirens, I’m still alive

34. Hot Gates//Mumford & Sons

Though we cry, we must stay alive, let my blood only run out when my world decides, there is no way out of your only life, so run on, run on

35. Alibi//Thirty Seconds to Mars

If I could end the quest for fire, for truth and love and my desire, myself. I fell apart, but got back up again

#ceridwen #playlist

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damn-stark · 5 years

Text

Lost dragon ch.13

Episode- 7x01, 7x02

warning- none

Pairing- Podrick Payne

The boat came to complete stop as it hit the sand. The wind here was chillier and picked up faster. I looked up at big castle. It looked haunting and strange but familiar all at the same time. It felt like home. Daenerys got off first and we followed after. She went ahead of of us and bent down to touch the sand. I walked forward closing my eyes and took a deep breath taking it all in. We all continued walking ahead and got to the main gate. Two dragon heads adorning the entrance. Once the gates were opened my face was in awe. It all looked beautiful from here. Watching the dragons fly overhead of the castle. Seeing the waves crash below.

I let my hand lightly graze other the walls. It still feels unreal that once a long time ago my family was here. My brother and I were born here. The gates to the throne are opened and Daenerys walks ahead walking toward the throne. I walk to the side and see the Stannis Bartheons Sigil. I pull it down letting hit the floor. The throne room was dark but beautiful. We all followed Daenerys into a room. It had a long table that had a map built in it. I turn my head and see the dragon head on the wall. I let my hand fall on it and let it trail the design of the dragon head. I stand next to the Daenerys as she looks at the table. She looks over at me with a determined look and then looks forward.

“Shall we begin?”

The moment I see them I feel a smile on my face. Tyene sees me first a smile on her face grows as she sees me approaching then the rest follow her gaze. I couldn’t hold it any longer the calm and collected pace soon became a fast one. I practically jumped on her from the joy I felt. Her embrace tightened before letting me go. They all seemed to look different since the last time I saw them. First of all Tyene had more hair.

“I’ve missed you all so much.” I say to them as I go hug Nymeria next and then go to Obara. And finally landing onto Ellaria. She hugs me and gives me a kiss on my forehead.

“Sorry I didn’t have the chance to write sooner.” I apologize to Ellaria. She simply waves it off.

“Looks like you’ve been busy.” Obara says to me while looking at my Black and red dress.

“Of course she’s been busy she’s a princess now. No more hiding.” Nymeria says a smirk on her face.

“She probably forgot how to fight too.” Tyene said while trying to swing at me with her dagger. I grab her hand before she manages to hit me with it.

“Never.” I say with a smirk on my face. She pulls her hand away and puts her dagger back.

“On the other hand I’ve heard you four have been busy. Killing innocent little girls and what not.” Ellaria turns her head to look at me.

“It was Justice for Oberyns death.” She snaps narrowing her look at me. “How about you. He loved you like one of his daughters and what have you done nothing. That Imp is still alive.” I walk to get closer to her my eyebrows knotting in anger.

“It wasn’t his fault and you know that! Yes I loved Oberyn like a father because he’s the only father I knew but he died because he was careless......he wanted revenge yes but he wouldn’t hurt little girls to get it.” I snap the anger in my voice clear. She looks stunned her mouth opened slightly like if she wanted to say something but she didn’t instead with a huff she sat down and took a drink of her wine. “If you all want revenge against the Lannister’s it won’t be with Tyrion. You know how to get it and that’s why you’re here now.” I tell them calming myself. She knew I was right that’s why she stayed quiet. It was going to take long for her to accept because she’s stubborn but she knows.

“Come we have to give you something.” Tyene says as she takes me inside the ships cabin. We all four walk and she grabs a golf box. She opens and gives it to me. “This is for you.” She says. I look inside the box that contains daggers in them.

“I already have one and a sword. I don’t need this. But thank you.”

“No Look at them again.” Obara says from behind me. I take a closer look and pick one them up. I trail my finger across the blade and realize it’s Valeryian steel. The three girls step up to be in front of me. I look up at them confused and shocked.

“Why me?” I mumble.

“They were Doran’s and they were supposed to be Trystanes but they both have no need for them anymore. So we wanted you to have them.” I close the box and set it down on the table. And then pull of all of them into a tight hug.

“Thank you. I’ll use them wisely.” They laugh as they pull away.

I try to spend as much time as I can with them before I have to go back. We catch up eachother on all the stuff that happened I missed in their lives while I was gone. And I tell them my story after leaving the Capital. Ellaria eventually joins us after her anger left. We laugh and fight with one another something that’s completely normal between us. The fighting is never going to stop but we get over it. If he was here with us he would love this. All of us talking and laughing with one another. Because I know I do. Even If it’s going to last a couple minutes before we go to war. I have to enjoy this time I have with them. Even if it is just for a short amount of time before I have to leave again.

“If you want the iron throne take it. We have an army a fleet and three dragons! We should hit Kingslanding now hard with everything we have. The city will fall within a day.” Yara Greyjoy says.

“We turn the dragons loose tens of thousands will die in the firestorm.” Tyrion answers.

“It’s called war. You don’t have the stomach for it, scurry back into hiding.” Ellaria snaps at Tyrion. Tyrion looks at her with a flash of anger.

“I know how you wage war we don’t poison little girls here. Marcella was innocent.” He tells her.

“She was a Lannister there are no innocent Lannister’s. My greatest regret is that oberyn died fighting for you.” She hisses. I finally had enough of their arguing so I stand up and push my chair back.

“That’s enough!” I yell catching both of their attentions. Giving Ellaria a warning glare.

“I am not here to be queen of the ashes.” Daenerys says turning to face us.

“That’s very nice to hear of course I can’t remember a queen who was better loved then my granddaughter. The common people loved her the nobles loved her. What is left of her now. Ashes. Commoners,nobels they’re all just children really. They won’t obey you unless they fear you.” Lady Olenna says from where’s she’s sitting. I heard what happened to her family. It was tragic. Her whole house just gone because of one person.

“I’m grateful lady Olenna for your council and grateful to all of you but you have chosen to follow me. I will not attack Kings Landing . We will not attack Kings landing.” Daenerys says making herself clear to all of them.

“Then how do you mean to take the iron throne by asking nicely.” Lady Olenna tells her. Even if she is old and still probably mourning she still finds a way to be snarky. It’s rather funny and entertaining that she is.

“We will lay siege to the capital surrounding the city on all sides. Cersei will have the iron throne but no food for her armys or the people.” Daenerys explains.

“But we won’t use Dothraki or unsullied. Cersei will try to rally the lords of Westeros by appealing to their loyalty their love for their country. If we beseech the city with foreigners we prove her point. Our armies should be Westerosi.” Tyrion explains while walking alongside the table.

“I suppose we are providing the Westerosi?” Ellaria asks.

“Yes you are. Lady Greyjoy will escort you back to Sunspear and her iron fleet will ferry the dornish army back to Kings landing. The dornish will lay siege to the capital alongside the tyrell army. Two great kingdoms united against Cersei.” I clarify them as I place the sigils where they’re going. I’m a bit nervous as I say out the plan because anything could go wrong.anything. And I don’t want to lose them.

“So your master plan is to use our armies. Forgive me for asking why did you bother to bring your own?” Lady Olenna asks directing her question to Daenerys.

“The unsullied will have another objective. For decades house Lannister has been the true power of Westeros and the seat of that power is Castly rock. Greyworm and the unsullied will sail for the rock and take it.” Tyrion says as he takes down the Lannister’s lion with a dragon head. Their eyes all turn to Daenerys and to the table.

“Do I have your support?” Daenerys asks them.

“You have mine.” Lady Greyjoy says as she straightens her position.

“Dorne is with Visenya.... and with you your grace.” Ellaria says as she looks at me. I look at her and nod. Lady Olenna simply nods in response.

“Thank you all. Lady Olenna May I speak with you alone.” I walk after Ellaria leaving Daenerys and Lady Olenna alone.

“This is goodbye then. I’ll miss all you guys. I do wish you guys could stay.” The tears in my eyes are threatening to come out as I come and see the sand snakes off.

“We’ll see eachother again Visenya.” Ellaria tells me while giving me a hug.

“Why dont you join us. We’ll need another fighter after all you are a sand snake like us.” Nymeria tells me while punching my shoulder lightly.

“I’ve got things to do here. Otherwise I would get on that ship with you all.” I give her a hug and then go to give Obara a hug.

“We’ll see eachother again.” Obara tells me before heading to the boat.

“Until next time Tyene. We still have that game to play.” I tell her she smiles and gives me a tight hug.

“I beat you all the time theirs no point.” She teases and then heads off to the boat.

“You wish.” Nymeria tells her while pushing her which then starts to both other pushing eachother.

“Until next time and please try not kill eachother.” I wave goodbye at them and watch as they get smaller and smaller. I’ll see them again.

#game of thrones imagines #game of thrones #daenerys targaryen #ellaria sand #obara sand #nymeria #tyene sand #oberyn martell #sand snakes #yara greyjoy #olenna tyrell #doran martell #tyrion lannister #fanficiton

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psycherprince · 5 years

Text

A Ceridwen Playlist

For the *checks list* 1.5 of my followers that care, it’s time to Get Into My OC’s Head

Buckle up, this is a longer one. Listen here. Songs under the cut.

!Viva La Gloria!//Green Day- Don’t lose your faith to your lost naivety, weather the storm and don’t look back

Hot to the Touch, Cold on the Inside//Fall Out Boy- I am your savior now, and I’m your secret too

Scotland//The Lumineers- You could never feel my story, it’s all you know, I will not fold

For Those Below//Mumford and Sons- Just as broken, just as crippled, just as burned, and then I find myself on top, as a leader of the flock

What About You//Kongos- Stand your ground and take your aim, but don’t be ashamed if you lose sight, and everything you need to win you can have

New Genius (Brother)//Gorillaz- Brother, sister too, do what you must do, don’t trust people you meet, they might promise you the river ain’t deep

Sleepsong//Bastille- The seams which hold the waking world slowly come undone, you come undone

The Way//Kongos- Awake, he said sleep no more, you’re dreaming and I’m going to show you the door, come on and let me show you the way

Listen Before I Go//Billie Eilish- Sorry can’t save me now, sorry I don’t know how, sorry there’s no way out but down, down

Thistle and Weeds//Mumford and Sons- It’s getting dark, darling, too dark to see, and I’m on my knees, and your faith in shreds, it seems

?Viva La Gloria? (Little Girl)//Green Day- Your life is calling, the charlatans and saints of your abandon, little one, little one, the sky is falling

Heaven Help Us//My Chemical Romance- Make your choice, they say you’ve been pleading, “someone save us”

The Driver//Bastille- The sun will rise with your name on my lips, cause everything will change tonight

The Sound of Awakening//Walk the Moon- The bated breath before the turning of the page, the sense that everything’s about to change

Wolves Without Teeth//Of Monsters and Men- So lift up my body and lose all control, I’m giving you all, I’m giving you all

Daniel in the Den//Bastille- It’s harder than you think telling dreams from one another, and you thought the lions were bad, well, they tried to kill my brothers

Ode to Sleep//Twenty-One Pilots- Please tell them you have no plans for me, I will set my soul on fire, what have I become? I’m sorry

Nothing Left to Say//Imagine Dragons- I’ve come too far to see the end now, even if my way is wrong, so I keep pushing on and on and on and on

Firestorm//Siames- You won’t find the answer above, who will be vanished, and who has the courage to try some more?

She//Green Day- She screams in silence, a sullen riot penetrating her mind, waiting for a sign

Four Winds//The Killers- She just can’t remain with all that outer space, she breaks, she breaks, she caves, she caves, she breaks... You better look alive.

Battle Cry//Imagine Dragons- Stars are only visible in darkness, fear is always changing and evolving, but I feel so alive, and I’ve been poisoned inside

Hurricane//Thirty Seconds to Mars- There’s a fire inside of this heart and a riot about to explode into flames, where is your god?

All the Good Girls Go to Hell//Billie Eilish- My god is gonna owe me, there’s nothing left to save now

All These Things That I’ve Done//The Killers- Over and in, last call for sin, while everyone’s lost, the battle is won, with all these things that I’ve done

El Manana//Gorillaz- I saw that day, lost my mind, lord, I’m fine

Outlaws//Green Day- You can’t go back, forever now, forever now you’ll roam

Gloria//The Lumineers- Gloria, you crawled up on your cross, Gloria, you made us sit and watch, Gloria, no one said enough is enough

Rootless//Marina and the Diamonds- Home sweet, no sweet home, for a root, for a leaf, for a branch, for a tree, for somebody that reminded them of me

Stand Up//Kongos- Sit down and tell me about your freedom, look left and tell me how you lost your way

The Only Hope for Me is You//My Chemical Romance- Covered in ash, covered in glass, covered in all my friends, I still think of the bombs they built

Doom Days//Bastille- Let’s pick the truth that we believe in, like a bad religion, tell me all your original sins

Still Breathing//Green Day- I’m like a child looking off to the horizon, I’m like an ambulance turning on the sirens, I’m still alive

Hot Gates//Mumford and Sons- Another fragile edge and tender sound, and then you went aground, near a duller blade, a promise out of sight

Alibi//Thirty Seconds to Mars- If I could end the quest for fire, for truth, for love and my desire, myself... And I fell apart, but I got back up again

#ceridwen aderyn #rhys makes playlists #my ocs

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katniss-evermeme · 5 years

Note

⭐ 8, 12, 28, & 59 ⭐

8: Movies or TV shows?

I can have a pretty short attention span, so I almost never finish the shows I start watching. That being said, from a storytelling standpoint I prefer TV because movies don’t have as much time to develop the characters and always feel rushed because of it.

12: Name of your favorite playlist?

Either Writing-F (my playlist for writing Firestorm fics) or Y’all Need Jesus (all the “weird” Christian music I listen to/basically the stuff that we don’t sing during worship services so I’m not tired of it yet)

59: If you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

Okay, funny story. So my sister and our best friend have this inside joke that my sister is Poison Ivy, I’m Catwoman, and our friend is Harley Quinn. I don’t remember how the joke got started, just that it started in the lake at church camp. About a year ago, I started playing Miitopia, and I based 3 of the Miis on Ivy, Harley, and Catwoman. Since you can pick “battle cries” for the Miis, I made their battle cries be embarrassing things we said while sleep deprived at the aforementioned church camp.

So long story short, my catchphrase is apparently, “I’m NOT a freaking furry!”, which is why they picked me for Catwoman I guess ^_^’

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theonyxpath · 6 years

Link

A comment in the comments section, of all things, basically asked why every time they look here lately there’s dogs all over the place. The art samples have dogs in them, the Kickstarter news is about the dog card game. Dogs, dogs, dogs!

Part of that is, of course, coincidence or a coming together of multiple projects for a line with three Kickstarters and a bunch of projects which came out of those KS Stretch Goals. And it helps that Eddy Webb is the kind of developer who pushes to get projects finished as close to estimate, and sometimes earlier, as possible.

So, woof, woof, woof go the dogs.

In a week or so, maybe it’ll seem like only WoD books are mentioned, or CofD, or Exalted. And so on. It’s all pretty much coincidence as to how books of a particular setting come out together, as we have projects from all of our “worlds” going at all times at different stages of creation, and a lot depends on which projects you’re waiting for.

This also applies to Kickstarter news when you don’t back Kickstarters, or Onyx Pathcast news when you don’t listen to podcasts, or convention info and our plans for FangCon 2019 when you can’t get to the convention.

So for this blog, I try to mix the things I mention and art I put up to give a bit of a taste of as many game worlds and activities we’re doing as I can so that I’m touching on something, I hope, that is relevant to YOU. But, if coincidence gives me mostly Exalted stuff that week, I’m mostly going to be relaying that, with a mix of other things if I have other things on my radar to share.

No Marketing department, no professional writer here – just your dear old Uncle Rich and whatever we’ve discussed during the Monday Meeting.

(Which reminds me, not only is last week’s Onyx Pathcast a great inside look at the way we conceive, create, and publish our projects, but this Friday yours truly is grilled by Dixie and Matthew for a very special episode. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry. You’ll learn secrets of the early days of White Wolf right into Onyx Path.)

Wraith 20th Handbook of the Recently Deceased art by Michael Gaydos

Which means, it’s time for some quick topic hits:

In a similar conversation to the one above, there was a poster that remarked how the first mention of Pugmire made him wonder just what Onyx Path was turning into. Then, he dug into the background of Pugmire and realized there was a lot more to it than a funny animal TTRPG.

My response must be that we aren’t turning into anything different than we’ve always been on track to be: a publisher who creates amazing and engaging worlds for folks to explore. And that the poster was dead-on right to identify that one of the threads that combine all of our projects is that there are depths built into our worlds that reward players who look into them.

Some of that is a heritage from old White Wolf we’ve been fortunate to bring to the fore, and use as models for what works and what doesn’t, and part of the depth is built in by our amazing creative teams who know they can do that kind of game and world building with us.

Monarchies of Mau art by Pat McEvoy

We’ve been having other great conversations on our Onyx Path Publishing Discussion Group on Facebook, which you might be able to get to through this link: https://www.facebook.com/groups/419273928504341/ I haven’t had a chance to join in to the discussions yet, but hope to very soon.

Boggans art by Brian LeBlanc

I haven’t been able to jump in because these last couple of months have been a combination of working up and with contracts for new projects and licenses, putting in pitches for projects, and getting Changing 20th, Prince’s Gambit, and soon, V20 Beckett’s Jyhad Diary Kickstarter rewards out to backers. It’s a bit of an endurance challenge, so I’m lucky to have maxed out Fortitude.

Plus, I’m trying to keep up the communication with backers for the Scarred Lands Kickstarter that the late Stewart Wieck had started for our two companies, while representatives for his company, Nocturnal Media, work to get the KS fulfilled and shipped. So, four KSs shipping around a month from each other.

The flip-side is…we’re getting out four KSs’ rewards to our backers!

Nerma Fetch Quest Stretch Goal card.

Finally, I think I might have mentioned this before, but one of my working methods when creating a new setting, or establishing an overall art “look” for a project, is to take what Allen Moore calls a “high altitude pass” and gather all sorts of reference material and sift through it without trying to force any sort of viewpoint over it.

For visuals, this is very often seeing what registers as “right”. What feels like the sort of feeling we want the setting to give players. Although we can pull huge amounts of story from an illustration (picture=1K words), very often a far more lasting impression comes from the viewer’s emotional reaction. I’ve been doing this pass for Aberrant for about 3 months now, and we’re getting to the decision point on creating an artist list, and actually further back for when I did the initial designs for all four Trinity Continuum main books.

Right now though, I’m reading through a collection of 1950’s EC Weird Science comics in preparation for establishing the art for They Came From Beneath the Sea!. Developer Matthew Dawkins and I already have a strong idea overall based on the films of the time and some TV, but in a lot of ways looking at illustration when thinking about kinds of illustrations is actually more directly what I need.

Not going to go too far into the history of EC right now, although I could and it is a fascinating tale of the rise and fall of a publisher, but suffice to say that their comics were a gigantic influence on both the comics that came after, and on the generation of creators who wrote science fiction in all media (including TTRPGs) for decades to come.

So I get to read comics collections as part of my job. It is tough. But it’s what ya gotta do in order to explore:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

KICKSTARTER:

Fetch Quest, the adventure card game set in the Realms of Pugmire went live last Tuesday, May 22 and funded in under a day, and now we’re over 250% funded and have added a group of six cats from the Monarchies of Mau to the game as alternative adventurers via Stretch Goals!

This is definitely a game that needs to be spread by word of mouth, so please let your friends and family know about this game of good dogs (and cats!) out to fetch what Man has left behind!

ELECTRONIC GAMING:

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is now live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is both rolling and rocking!

Here are the links for the Apple and Android versions:

http://theappstore.site/app/1296692067/onyx-dice

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.onyxpathpublishing.onyxdice&hl=en

Three different screenshots, above.

ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE:

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue you bought it from. Reviews really, really help us with getting folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Endless Ages Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Rites of Renown: When Will You Rage II (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Ascension: Truth Beyond Paradox (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: The God-Machine Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Curse of the Blue Nile (Kindle, Nook)

Beast: The Primordial: The Primordial Feast Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Masquerade: Of Predators and Prey: The Hunters Hunted II Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: The Poison Tree (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Songs of the Sun and Moon: Tales of the Changing Breeds (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: The Strix Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Forsaken: The Idigam Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Awakening: The Fallen World Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Beast Within Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: W20 Cookbook (Kindle, Nook)

Exalted: Tales from the Age of Sorrows (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Tales of the Dark Eras (Kindle, Nook)

Promethean: The Created: The Firestorm Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Demon: The Descent: Demon: Interface (Kindle, Nook)

Scarred Lands: Death in the Walled Warren (Kindle, Nook)

V20 Dark Ages: Cainite Conspiracies (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Strangeness in the Proportion (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: Silent Knife (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Dawn of Heresies (Kindle, Nook)

OUR SALES PARTNERS:

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the Screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there!

https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

Here’s the link to the press release we put out about how Onyx Path is now selling through Indie Press Revolution: http://theonyxpath.com/press-release-onyx-path-limited-editions-now-available-through-indie-press-revolution/

And you can now order Pugmire: the book, the screen, and the dice! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/manufacturers.php?manufacturerid=296

DRIVETHRURPG.COM:

This week, we’ll be releasing a cornucopia of merchandise and other items on Wednesday!

This is our monthly release week for our ongoing series of PDF releases for Exalted 3rd Edition, and we have the Barrow Hound and Devilstone for Hundred Devil’s Night Parade www.drivethrurpg.com/product/242687, and Iron Siaka for Adversaries of the Righteous http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/242686 on DTRPG.com!

CONVENTIONS!

Prep is also underway for Gen Con 2018 in the first week of August, which takes place in Indianapolis. In addition to our booth presence, be sure to check out the games and panels in the Gen Con Event Schedule.

From Fast Eddy Webb, we have these:

Eddy will be speaking at Broadleaf Writers Conference (September 22-23) in Decatur, GA. He’ll be there to talk about writing for interactive fiction, and hanging out with other writers who have far more illustrious careers. http://broadleafwriters.com/3rd-annual-broadleaf-writers-conference/3rd-annual-broadleaf-writers-conference-speakers/

Eddy will also be a featured guest at Save Against Fear (October 12-14) in Harrisburg, PA. He’ll be running some Pugmire games, be available for autographs, and will sometimes accept free drinks. http://www.thebodhanagroup.org/about-the-convention

If you are going and want to meet up, let us know!

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM FAST EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

M20 Book of the Fallen (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

C20 Novel (Jackie Cassada) (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

CofD Dark Eras 2 (Chronicles of Darkness)

Aeon Aexpansion (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Tales of Excellent Cats (Monarchies of Mau)

Dog and Cat Ready Made Characters (Monarchies of Mau)

Adventures for Curious Cats (Monarchies of Mau)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Redlines

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Spilled Blood (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

Night Horrors: Shunned by the Moon (Werewolf: The Forsaken 2nd Edition)

In Media Res (Trinity Continuum: Core)

Wr20 Book of Oblivion (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

C20 Players’ Guide (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

Second Draft

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

CofD Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Development

Signs of Sorcery (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Hunter: the Vigil 2e core (Hunter: the Vigil 2nd Edition)

Fetch Quest (Pugmire)

They Came From Beneath the Sea! Rulebook (TCFBtS!)

Dystopia Rising: Evolution (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

WW Manuscript Approval:

Guide to the Night (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

Editing:

Night Horrors: The Tormented (Promethean: The Created 2nd Edition)

Post-Editing Development:

Scion: Hero (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Core Rulebook (The Trinity Continuum)

Trinity Continuum: Aeon Rulebook (The Trinity Continuum)

Ex Novel 2 (Aaron Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exalted 3rd Novel by Matt Forbeck (Exalted 3rd Edition)

GtS Geist 2e core (Geist: the Sin-Eaters Second Edition)

M20 Gods and Monsters (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Indexing:

Wraith 20

Cavaliers of Mars

ART DIRECTION FROM MIRTHFUL MIKE:

In Art Direction

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Scion Hero – Last art notes and contracts sent.

Trinity Continuum

Geist 2e

The Realm

M20 Gods and Monsters

Ex3 Dragon Blooded – Wave 2 art in progress

Promethean Night Horrors: The Tormented – Sending out Artnotes and Contracts.

Marketing Stuff

Storyteller System Brochure

Posters and Displays

Gen Con Cards

In Layout

Wraith 20 Screen – I’ll pull this together this week.

Fetch Quest – Putting together the Mau Pioneer card previews.

EX3 Dragon Blooded – Firming up layout and tweaking some backgrounds.

Proofing

Scion Origin – PDF almost ready for in-Onyx review.

Changeling: the Lost 2 – Meghan has the proof.

At Press

V20 Beckett’s Jyhad Diary & Beckett Screen & V20 Dice – At fulfillment shipper, prepping for KS ship-out. Shipping addresses to be locked down on Wednesday.

Scarred Land PGs & Wise and the Wicked PF & 5e – Shipping from fulfillment shipper. PDF and PoD physical book versions on sale at DTRPG.

Prince’s Gambit – Shipping from fulfillment shipper.

Scion Dice – At fulfillment shipper.

Cavaliers of Mars – Errata input on Backer PDF, now to Indexing.

Boggans – PoD files uploading.

Monarchies of Mau – Errata gathering on Backer PDF.

Wr20 Guide for Newly Departed – Backer PDF should go out to backers this week.

TODAY’S REASON TO CELEBRATE: In 1783 the Montgolfier brothers publicly demonstrate their montgolfière (hot air balloon). A year later in 1784, Élisabeth Thible becomes the first woman to fly in an untethered hot air balloon. Her flight covers four kilometres in 45 minutes, and reached 1,500 metres altitude (estimated). In the future, people of all genders are able to fly in balloons and zeppelins to work and to visit friends, at least if any pulp setting ever can be believed!

#Onyx Path Publishing

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poweredbycoffeeandwine · 6 years

Note

Can I please maybe possibly get 'stay' for Mercedes and Anders because I LOVE THEM. Thank you. ^-^

I would be happy to! They are just too much aren’t they?!? I am looking forward to your many prompts for these fools. Hope you enjoy your “drabble.”

Aveline had needed help keeping the bandits infesting the docks at bay, and Mercedes could never say no to her. Honestly, her friend in the guard rarely even had to ask. Mercedes had been helpless for too long herself. Seeing just how many sick individuals preyed on the weak in this piss poor part of town caused anger to roil up inside of her, barely checked. In that state fire always came to her easily, and even those afraid of an apostate loose in the city kept her identity secret. Word was beginning to spread, whispers followed her and her friends. Finally there was someone in the shadows bent on helping - not taking.

Fenris had too many surrounding him and the cold sea at his back. He had nowhere to run, a determined look in his eye, and a snarl on his lips. Varric and Sebastian were doing as much as they could from the wings, unleashing arrows silently into the night, but still the bastards came. She cursed inwardly. Served her right, the party should have had another warrior, someone else gifted with a blade. But, they had all been busy. Unfortunate really that impulsivity ruled her head. She had pushed on anyway, not wanting to lose any more time.

She had planned to hang back, really she had, but the the ebb and flow of the fight sucked her in. Hitting the bandits with Firestorm, without catching Fenris in the flames, required a proximity that she usually tried to avoid. Stupid and careless, she found herself out in the open, focusing on her casting. A sudden prickling sort of awareness against her skin was the only warning she had. The rogue materialized from nothing, knives sliding through her back like a lover’s gentle caress, only to disappear once more.

The pain didn’t come immediately, Mercedes wasn’t even sure if she screamed. Collapsing on the docks, wood scraping against her face, she watched, without really seeing, as Fenris roared. His body lit up the inky blackness of the sky, illuminating the water around them. “So much for subtlety,” she thought to herself, vision swimming, mind growing fuzzy. Sebastian worked himself to her slowly, Varric providing cover.

“Don’t worry, lass. We will set this right.” He lifted her carefully, apologizing for the hard press of armor.

“Quick, let’s get her to Darktown!” Varric ordered.

The pounding on his door this late didn’t concern him overly much. If the Templars had finally found him, they wouldn’t bother with announcing their presence. He had exerted much already today, and whoever was on the other side had better be near death to wake him.

“Blondie, now’s not the time to play dramatic,” Varric grunted, sounding out of breath. “Open the damn door. Hawke doesn’t have much longer.”

Anders’ stomach dropped, cold dread filled him as he rushed to undo the bolts. He’d never had to treat Hawke before. Despite not having a stellar grasp of healing, she managed to patch herself up easily enough. She generally had enough sense to cast at a distance, things must have been dire. The door swung open, Varric and Fenris shoved in drenched in sweat. Sebastian followed, his pristine armor coated in blood. Hawke hung limp in his arms, the warmth from her skin missing. “Andraste’s flaming…what happened?”

He led them to the nearest cot, and began casting spells. Varric explained the wounds, the dock, the rogue, for once not embellishing, knowing time was limited. Satisfied that he got the worst of the internal bleeding with magic, he rolled her to her stomach. Her robe, obviously beyond repair, was cut further to expose the damage. He worked, caring little if the others stuck around. They were peripheral, Sebastian lowly speaking the Chant, Fenris pacing, Varric hovering like a mother hen. The rogue had skill. The wounds were thin and exact, the metal had been sharp, and likely coated with some poison. That would be the tricky part, but Hawke would live through this night if he had any say.

Awareness came slowly, the Fade hard to shake off, limbs refusing to work. She wondered once again when she would learn to stop being baited by Bela into drinking contests she could never win. Attempting to sit only caused her head to spin. Rather than lose the contents of her stomach to the sudden nausea that plagued her, she lay back down. A course pillow under her cheek, back sore, she recalled the events of the night prior. Maker, she would never venture out without two warriors again, or a mage more capable at healing than her paltry attempts.

“You’re awake,” a pause and a huff, “did you seriously try to move? What were you thinking?” Anders’ fingers gently prodded her back. “Maker, at least you didn’t do more damage. How do you feel?”

“A bit like someone stabbed me in the back,” her laughter ending abruptly falling into low moans of pain.

“I can’t imagine why,” he returned dryly. “You really should be more careful.”

“Oh, Leandra, I didn’t know you were here,” she muttered sullenly.

“Don’t be testy with me. You have no idea how terrifying it looked, seeing you on death’s door.”

“It’s a good thing I have access to a sexy tortured healer, then.”

He chuckled, but began more sternley “Hush, none of that, or I’ll send for your mother in earnest. Try and rest, I’ll be back to check on you again.”

“Anders, could you….will you stay? I don’t want to impose, but I’d rather not be alone.”

“Alright,” he brushed her long plait away from the wound, pulling a chair to be near her. “What would you have me do?” “You could always read to me? Not your boring tomes, it would be a shame to waste such an attractive voice on the properties of local flora. Have any trashy novels? Commit any naughty poems to memory?”

“We’ve really got to stop letting you spend your free time with Isabela. Give me a moment, I swiped a novel I suspect Varric wrote the last time I was at The Hanged Man.” He reset the dressing over her wounds, fingers delicately tracing her spine. She shivered just a bit, not from cold, but the desire held dormant beneath the surface.

“Don’t be too long, or I might have to put out an advertisement looking for a new rakish mage. One willing to be more attentive to my whims.”

“Sweetheart, I doubt you will find another mage of my caliber. One that’s also willing to put up with your needs.” He looked at her with sorrow, “Besides, I’ve already told you, I’ll only bring you heartache.”

“I agree, my heart can’t handle the view from this height. Now run along and let me ogle you, I am perfectly aligned with some of your better features.”

“You ass.”

“Exactly.” She winked at him, and he could only shake his head.

He returned, ready to submit himself to more of this torturous banter. He couldn’t help himself, he was a glutton for her attention. He knew better. If nothing else, the disastrous way things came to an end with Karl should have been enough warning. Mercedes, despite not knowing him long, understood him. She carried many of the same burdens he did, but fought to keep her family safe, not random strangers. What would that be like, he wondered, not to have been separated from loving and supportive parents? To have an actual mage father to help hone skills, teach rather than humiliate? He would never know, but he saw evidence in her just how much one could benefit.

Hawke had fallen asleep, exhausted. Healing generally did that to people. He sat by her side, watching as her eyelashes fluttered against her skin. Maker, she really was beautiful. He needed to build more distance from her, she had no sense of self-preservation. He had to be the one to do it. But, seeing her vulnerable and in his care, he started to see the futility of it all. He wondered if he had it in him to keep resisting anymore. He set the book on the floor, grabbed a blanket for himself, and settled in to get some rest, but didn’t leave her side. She had asked him to stay, after all.

#female hawke #anders #female hawke x anders #dragon age 2 #dragon age #dragon age fic #mercedes hawke x anders #mercedes hawke #mercedes x anders #steph drabbles #sort of #steph did a thing #my writing #lechatrouge673 #chat is a perfect sunflower

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midnight-herald · 7 years

Text

today feels like the latest installment of a week from hell haha. venting under the break

I feel like body is rotting on my bones...

I woke up earlier than i have in a long while because May Day is an important day; we dance through sunrise so the sun comes up and the growing season is bountiful. Problem is i couldn’t fall asleep until after 1 am. Wake up at 5 am. Two nights ago I couldn’t fall asleep until 5:30 am. Wake up at 8:15, stay awake Because things needed to be done

Because my dad gets kinda upset when my sleep schedule flips even a little and sharing a living space with a visibly upset person still puts me on high alert.

Because I hate the fact that sometimes my own brain can effectively hold me hostage, not allow me to drift off even when my eyes are burning from being tired, from crying,

I have grooves my teeth have cut in my night-guard and they get there when i’m stressed I could swear i heard something crack at 4 am as I begged my intrusive thoughts just let me rest i am rotting on my bones

I’m so tired, spent most of the day in some form of dissociative fugue combined with pulsing headache, nausea, pounding heart, mood swings, dry mouth all my companions from all-nighters and other sleep-drunk states of being

My arms don’t want to do what i ask of them right now -- my entire body heavy with the sand of delayed dreams with the ache of my awakeness

I played music in a school that smelt of poison the kind of dry-mold knife-thin scent that hovers in the upper sinuses, I played music until i couldn’t anymore, until breathing itself was a firestorm, all purple burn and deep red cough a lance into my lungs until i feared the desperate mucus trying to coat my windpipe was pink with the gritty blood i still taste in the back of my throat

I feel my body rotting on my bones I know this is illusion of the same damaged brain that clamors near dawn, that still has the teeth of danger embedded in its soft grey matter, that gifts me with the insight and ability to create what i have, to see beauty where i have but

tonight i am shambles, an old snag tree after blizzard there are parts of me that scale over and rattle hollow in the breeze that send out desperate green shoots in an effort to provide for the parts of me still whole i feel my body rotten on my bones my brain torn through by quiet scars and full of whispered lies a chorus like the first tragedies

I feel empty mouths inside my chest behind my eyes in my empty hands they clamor for something to fill them sate their cravings make them full make me whole again there is exhaustion in my rotting bones my glasses can no longer hide the deep dark circles the dead dull cast of my eyes

I shiver, overheat, cough from moment to moment everything is heavy everything is wrong there is something wrong here my body rotting on my bones I breathe as deep as i can manage (less than half my usual) and bury myself in softness, warmth, whatever i can manage and I wish For quiet For wellness For sleep

#midnight makes a text post #prose poem ramblings #personal shit #insomnia and asthma are kicking my ass #i will hopefully do better tomorrow #anxiety and depression #fun with language

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sasorikigai · 4 years

Note

“I can’t help you if you don’t let me!” (For Hanzo)

Assorted Injuries || @xthesparequeen || accepting

In reply to this meme reply (x)

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || The pale pain reigns on, for Hanzo relinquishes himself beneath the interlacing sublimity, red rivers that live and permeate on in the reflected sky of Arendelle. Not blood, but as memories unfurl and duplicate between the unsteady and opaque trickle, and there remains a certain vindictive bellicoseness towards those Oni whom he had failed to slaughter before he narrowly escaped the fissured crevasse between the realms. How he would have been threatened endlessly to be reduced as a mere smudge of ashen smoke, a dull dark against the impervious darkness and evil’s confinement once again. After all, the Agent of Chaos belonged with eternal limbo, preaching fire and brimstone with burning white coals as his eyes and incinerating firestorm as his wielded weapon.

For the fullness of his heart has a reason to live and it is this love divine that they both share; the wonder of it would leave him breathless, for the Queen, he is already embedded in every pore, in every cell, and in every blueprint of his being. The Sentinel still recalls Anna’s tension-melting words of encouragement and unbreakable faith and trust in his abilities. For he is a warrior, unfathomable and fearless, as he lived through the principles of reincarnation everywhere in his life; through the cycles of nature, day and night, the cyclic motion of the sun, earth, moon, and the solar system. How he perceives the principles of reincarnation reflected around him each and every day; even as he was once a mere spectre and his emotions were creeping out of him with the twisted strength as the eldritch sorcery battered at him, something inside of him was battling to be set free. It was the guilt for wanting not only for himself, but for others to pursue a life of purpose, that transformed the nature of his hellfire from being only capable of conducing annihilative destruction, to illuminate blinding magnanimity and hope with his redemptive absolution.

“They can still bloody try to arm wrestle me and I will win fair and square, My Queen,” even as a tight squeeze of his ribcage prevents him from deeply breathing in and out without a certain embedded discomfort, through the taut crease of his forehead, Hanzo jests and banters. A diagonal, cauterized slash running from his left clavicle down to his right side, curving around his chiseled muscles off to the side, meeting the visible discoloration of the very scar that suggests his harrowing past - an attempt at hara-kiri - that still oozes clear suppurations as he stills himself into cool and steady ground.

How he simply wishes to be lain down, wrapped and embraced and collected by the familiarity of Arendelle’s harsh, frigid winter, inviting the dwelling feverous flames to be extinguished. Yet, Hanzo relents, strenuously resisting the high sweat and pain, as he grimaces visibly. With his erect posture folding forward, with the balmy warmth of his hand curled around Anna’s slender form, he releases a defeated sigh, as a tense, fluttering smile etches upon his pouty lips.

“Maybe if you distract the excruciating throes of my pain elsewhere, perhaps I will allow the Queen’s help, Anna. I am burning cold, freshly cursed by the demonic poison, branded by fools as perfection. Perhaps you are my panacea to all things dark and evil.” ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion)#✗ seeking reconciliation with his own humanity (iii)#xthesparequeen

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robininthelabyrinth · 7 years

Note

Er, I'm new to this ask buisness, but I was wondering-- Do you think you could go a canon divergence, (maybe with a little coldwave thrown in there), where the Waverider crew ends up in Gotham?

By an overwhelming three votes to zero, here’s the Mick-with-friends short fill I mentioned :) @coin-in-the-wishing-well, I hope you don’t mind that it’s a bit Mick-centric!

AO3 Link

–

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Nate chants.

“It’s okay,” Sara says, though she sounds a little nervous herself. “It’s just Gotham.”

“It’s Gotham,” Nate hisses.

“What’s the matter with Gotham?” Amaya asks.

“Gotham has the largest supervillain population in the United States,” Nate says. “Worst of the worst. The real crazies. Poison gas, fear gas, acid, killer plants – basically, if humanity has had a nightmare about it, it’s probably shown up in Gotham. Which we’re currently stuck in!”

“But, you know, maybe by now…”

“We crashed in 2020,” Stein says. “As of 2016, Gotham was getting worse, not better. Gideon, the supervillain population in Gotham –”

“2020 is the height of the supervillain boom,” Gideon says cheerfully.

“…great.”

“We’re gonna die,” Nate says. “Of all the cities we had to crash into…”

“We just need to get one part to fix the ship and we’ll be able to get out of here,” Ray argues. “In, out, no problem.”

“Has that ever happened?” Jax asks skeptically.

“…it could,” Ray says.

“We need more than just the part,” Sara says regretfully. “We need to know why the Legion of Doom has come here.”

“Oh,” Ray says. “Well, in that case, yeah, we’re totally going to die.”

Sara rolls her eyes at him. “This is how we’re going to play it,” she says. “Amaya, you’re with me, we’re going to scout for intel; Stein, Ray, Nate, you guys are in charge of finding the part. Mick, Jax –”

“I’m going to a bar,” Mick says.

“You are not!”

“Watch me,” he says, draining his beer and standing up. “You legal yet, kid?” he asks Jax.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You can come with, if you like.”

Sara throws her hands up in annoyance. “Fine,” she says. “Jax, you keep an eye on Mick; you two will be our back-ups. Don’t let Mick get too drunk.”

Jax follows Mick out the door of the Waverider. “They know you’re a grown man who can take care of himself, right?” he asks.

“They forget sometimes,” Mick says. “C’mon.”

“Are we actually going to a bar?”

“Yep.”

“…are you serious?” Jax asks plaintively.

“Yep.”

Jax sighs, but keeps following him, fiddling a bit with the communications in his pocket.

Mick heads straight to the bar on Seventh Ave. Strictly speaking, it’s a speakeasy, not a bar: it serves alcohol, but it doesn’t have a sign on the door and there’s a guy just inside the door to keep uninvited guests from coming in. But everyone calls it a bar.

The guy grunts companionably at Mick and raises his eyebrows at Jax, but doesn’t say a word.

Yeah, Mick figured it’d go much this way.

The inside of the place is surprisingly upmarket, given how shabby the outside is: nice padded armchairs all around sturdy tables that are nailed down, a small stage with a piano, a long bar with a wide variety of options and a few stools.

Mick drops himself down in an armchair. You don’t go sit by the bar if you know what’s good for you.

Jax follows suit and sits next to him. “Nice place,” he observes, his tone suggesting that he would have expected Mick to find a dive bar where the drinks are cheap.

Joke’s on him. The drinks here are free.

“Mick, darling!” a familiar voice shouts and before Mick can do anything to stop him, he’s got a lap full of what can only be described as an extremely voluptuous set of curves and pine-scented freshness.

“Pammy?” he asks, blinking, instinctively bringing his arms around her. She’s even greener than he remembered, her mostly naked skin lightly dappled with leaf-like shadows and what might be bark. “Did you forget what clothing was again?”

“Ivy, Mick,” she scolds him lightly. “It’s Ivy now, you know that. No, but wait – you’ve got a few rings less on you than you ought. Is this your time-traveling phase?”

“Did I mention that to you?” he asks, ignoring how Jax is having trouble breathing.

“Of course,” she says. “When are you from? That was – mid-2017, wasn’t it?”

“End of 2016, start of 2017,” he says, shrugging.

“How adorable,” Ivy says. “Harley’s just powdering her nose; she’ll be back out in a minute – you’ll know it’s her by the joyful screeching.”

“Tell me she’s murdered that clown ex of hers,” Mick says.

“Joker? Oh, no, he’s still around. She did beat him in an inch of his life, though, and they’re very firmly broken up now.”

“Good,” Mick says, and turns his head to nod at Bane when the large man walks by on his way to his favorite armchair in the corner.

“You want a drink?” Ivy asks. “I’ll mix you up something, fix what’s ailing you.”

Mick nods and releases from his arms, letting her glide over to the bar. The bartender keeps his distance; wise man, but he’d have to be, to work here.

“Mick!” Jax hisses in his ear.

“What?”

“That was Poison Ivy!”

“Yeah,” Mick says. “And Harley Quinn’s in the bathroom, and that’s Bane in the corner, next to Killer Croc. S’probably too early for Penguin or Riddler to show up, unless they’re having a fight again. Those two never stay broken up.”

“Mick, I mean this in the nicest way, but what the hell?”

“Supervillain bar,” Mick says, shrugging. “We got an invite – Len and me, that is – after that first big televised fight against the Flash…”

Thinking of Len makes his shoulders slump, as it always does, but a second later Ivy’s back, holding a glass of something that’s billowing green smoke in her hand which she hands to Mick.

“Is this medicinal or can I give the kid a sip?” Mick ask. Ivy’s bartending skills were second to none and shouldn’t be missed.

“I’ll make him something else,” she says. “That’s just for you.”

“Are you actually going to drink that?” Jax yelps when Mick lifts it to his lips.

Mick drains it.

“Anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, mood stabilization,” Ivy observes, looking pleased. “Plus enough alcohol to knock out a horse.”

Yeah, Mick noticed that part. Yowch.

But he does feel better.

(Ivy’s always been better than regular pharmaceuticals.)

“I guess I’m still invited, even with the hero thing?” he asks. “Since I apparently mentioned it to you and all.”

“Oh, sure,” Ivy says, shrugging. “If we closed our doors to everyone who was doing a spin on the redemption side of the road, we’d lose half our clientele, and then who’d we play poker with? The henchmen?”

“You like your henchpeople,” Mick reminds her.

“They’ve gotten so much happier since Len unionized them,” she admits.

“Mickey!”

“And there’s Harley,” Ivy says, shaking her head. “C’mon, kid, I’ll make you a Fireball, Poison Ivy special variant.”

“You’re not going to kill me, are you?” Jax asks.

“Not in the bar, darling.”

“You’re time-traveling!” Harley announces, plopping down on Mick’s lap like he’s suddenly volunteered to play Santa Claus for the Gotham City Sirens. He wonders idly where Selina is at the moment.

“Yeah,” he says. “How’d you guess?”

“You’re not wearing your coat,” she says promptly, putting her head on his shoulder. “You love that coat: all white and orange and shiny, and more fireproof than the Flash’s heels.”

“White and orange,” Mick echoes skeptically. “Not quite my colors.”

“It’s a fireman’s jacket style,” Harley tells him. “Much less garish than you’d think. Besides, Lenny gave it to you.”

Mick straightens.

“Wait, is he still dead for you?” she asks, concerned.

“He’s not?”

She see-saws her hand. “Complicated, I think,” she says. “But he’s alive again by now.”

Mick lets his head thunk back on the armchair. “If you’re lying…” he warns.

“I’m not, I’m not,” she says. “Cross my heart, hope to die. Here, have my cellphone; you can text him.”

Mick feels a smile start to return to his face.

“I love this bar!” Jax shouts. He’s halfway through the Fireball Ivy made him, and he’s grinning in a way that does not speak of sobriety. Ivy’s smirking at him with the sort of indulgence you always get when you see a first-timer at the bar.

“Know anything about a Legion of Doom?” Mick asks Harley. “Time traveling, passing through here, possibly gonna cause an aberration and screw up the timeline.”

She snatches the cellphone back from where she’s just handed it to him. “I’ll ping Oracle,” she says, grinning. “Don’t you worry, Mick; we girls will take good care of it for you. You just stay here and drink something hot till you feel right side up.”

“You know what,” Mick says. “That was exactly what I was planning on doing. Oh, and if you see my crew…”

“Ivy will make sure that they don’t bother you and cutie-pie mini-Firestorm at the bar there,” Harley says. Her eyes glint dangerously.

Mick kisses her lightly on the forehead, then makes a face at the sour taste of the make-up she still wore.

“Thanks, H,” he says. “You guys are the best.”

Times like this, Mick wonders why the hell he keeps sticking around with the heroes.

These are his people.

#my fic #dccoldwave #mick rory #gotham villains #jefferson jax jackson #waverider crew #Harley quinn #poison ivy #bane

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