Envoy (noun): A representative; a diplomat; a messenger.
// the stranger to Sister pipeline.
Sister Kindness has the most enormous eyes you’ve ever seen. They are framed with dark lashes that crash against her chubby cheeks when she blinks. Their color is -- Very much green but dappled through with brown. They make you think of a creek bed and when she’s an idea there it is like the flash of a fish’s scales.
They gleam, now.
As they regard you from across the old kitchen island.
Sister Kindness is seated on a stool while her hands work, kneading dough. She always seems to be kneading, when you see her, with flour on her habit and egg in her hair. You watch a bit of yolk wobble.
She’s asking you something you should --
“-- we have a deal?”
You have been at the convent for a full moon. The last bit of Thanalan dirt has been scrubbed from behind your ears and you have broken every rule you’ve been given.
And nothing has happened.
You are so frustrated and impulse rules you, still.
On a whim, you reach across the table and pinch a bit of the dough off. Sister Kindness only slows to let you and then resumes her work. Something inside you growls at the lack of punishment. The back of your teeth clench.
You work the dough between your hands. Rolling it into a ball, flattening it, again and again. Sister Kindness sits in the quiet with you humming as she works. It is a nice sound, warm and rounded. Not once does she ask you for your answer.
She only waits. Patient.
That creature stirs beneath your skin. You can feel your hackles rise.
It all feels like such a trap.
But as you rifle through Sister Kindness’s proposal you can find no snares.
You take on some of her chores and she lets you shelter in here -- she is offering you a hiding place. And first chance at anything that comes out of the oven.
(She is offering you more than this but you are a child and scared and unwise to the way of adults like these.)
(A hiding place is all well and good but you’ve little need to hide here. Here, you are safe.)
(But ‘Here’ is too big a space and you know not what to do with it.)
(It is a hand offered in friendship, this deal.)
Sister Kindness has turned from you so she can load the oven.
You watch the line of her broad shoulders.
There is no wariness in them. She trusts you enough despite your eager rule-breaking.
(In truth: because of.)
It is enough.
“Deal.”
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your first crush was michelangelo? the ninja turtle????
down horrendous. live action AND 2003.
idk, why do you like anyone? i guess seven year old me liked his verve; i had one of the 12in tall statuettes of him and he would guard the foot of my bed. but he was there for YEARS, and one girl saw it when she slept over at my house. a few days later i had a bunch of my classmates sit me down on the playground to tell me it was weird and that they wouldn't come over if i didn't get rid of him. so i donated him to goodwill. you know, as you do with any breakup.
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One thing no one ever tells you about getting a shit tonne of small tattoos is placement decisions become a fucking bitch.
I'm meant to be going to get my new tattoo on Sunday but I still have NO CLUE on placement.... I'd love it to be on my wrist, but I already have 4 across my two wrists. Then I thought biceps but I have some there too and don't want to look like I's starting patchwork sleeves.
Next I thought ankle, but I have some there already too.... ribs are out cause I have ones across there too and on my back....
My next thought was down one of my hips, but then no one would ever see it!
Guyssss I need suggestions! Do I just embrace the mess of having 7 tattoos across my arms, add another to the ankles or go with the hip?
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