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#evening costal landscape
huariqueje · 2 years
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Evening  -   Piet Mondriaan, 1907.
Dutch , 1872-1944
Oil on canvas
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datauthorress · 10 months
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neverending nightmares [chapter 2]
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pairing: sephiroth / original female character
summary: all she wanted was to see the love of her life. she loved him, despite everything he had done. one fateful day, she hears a voice that calls out to her and lures her in.
rating: e
warnings: major character death, major character injury, death, blood, sexual content, dubious consent (more in this chapter than the first).
a/n: i've risen from the depths with a new story. this is basically a 'what if' scenario if something happened to shelby (our main character) and she was unable to save anyone or fix the timeline. it takes place in the 'take a chance' universe, but in a parallel universe to where it all just follows the original timeline of the original game. there is absolutely no sane sephiroth in this. pay attention to warnings.
it’s a grueling journey across the landscape of the continent.
         dealing with monsters and shinra, shelby wonders how far she’ll be able to go. by the time they get to costal del sol, she’s existed.
         for the first time since his death, sephiroth had revealed himself to the group. cloud is shocked and even more shocked when shelby goes to approach him, but cloud holds her back, knowing how much she still loved him.
         but sephiroth escapes and leaves behind a piece of jenova for them to fight.
         they defeat her with few injuries.
         shelby is inconsolable.
         ~
         they meet cait sith and he joins their party.
         barret thinks he’s annoying.
         ~
         dyne jumps to his death.
         barret cries for his former best friend and shelby comforts him with a hug, unable to say much due to her mutism.
         they’re all cleared from the murders in battle square and are given a vehicle to continue through their journey.
         ~
         cosmo canyon. nibelheim. rocket town.
         cid highwind joins their party and they gain a new vehicle to maneuver in the shallow waters of the wide ocean. cid has anger issues, but takes a liking to shelby, calling her ‘kiddo’.
         shelby takes a liking to cid as well, thinking of him like a father-figure almost, although he’s not much older than her. he doesn’t understand a lick of sign language, but shelby can communicate with him via her notebook. tifa knows sign language, so she can translate what shelby is saying.
         ~
         they go back to the gold saucer as the journey continues and stay at the ghost hotel. cloud and aerith go on a date and shelby gets some rest, dreaming.
         “the ancient must be rid of. she is in the way of our destiny.”
         she hears sephiroth’s voice in her ear, the ghost of his fingers touching her cheek. the glow of mako eyes as they lock with her own hazel ones.
         she couldn’t let aerith be killed.
         she couldn’t.
         ~
         aerith has left them.
         aerith has gone to the forgotten city to pray for the planet. to help holy help them in their battle against sephiroth. shelby doesn’t know if she can stop sephiroth from killing her friend.
         but she can damn well try.
         ~
         they reach the forgotten city and shelby is pulled towards it. the stairway isn’t open for them and she knows it won’t reveal itself until its time.
         they take a rest in one of the conch houses.
         shelby cries silently because she can’t stop what’s to come next.
         ~
         his voice calls out her name.
         in the dead of night, shelby hears sephiroth’s voice calling out for her, somewhere nearby. she gets up, careful to not disturb the others and leaves the house, looking around to see where the voice is coming from.
         “come to me,”
         his voice is coming from another conch house, not too far from where the others were sleeping. his voice guides her to the house, but as soon as she enters, she notices it’s empty.
         was she hearing things?
         when shelby turns, sephiroth is mere inches away from her and she takes a few steps back in surprise. he towers over her at his full height, reaching out with a powerful hand to brush his thumb over her pale cheek. she can’t help but tilt her face into his hand, her eyelids lowered.
         “you want to save the ancient,” he spoke. “she is in the way of our destiny, shelby. without her in the way, we can fulfill our purpose. to take over this planet.”
         his words brought her to reality and shelby shook her head. no. no, she had seen it before. cloud would kill him and shelby would be alone, without him.
         sephiroth raises a brow when she shakes her head.
         “you don’t want to be with me?”
         shelby’s hands flail in quick sign language and at first, sephiroth didn’t seem to understand, but then he managed to decipher what she was saying quickly. “cloud won’t have the chance to end me,” he assured her.
         his gloved fingers curl under her chin and brings her closer to him, to which she presses her hands against his chest. she shakes her head again, wishing she could speak, tell him that she didn’t want to see him get hurt. because no matter how much sephiroth defied the destiny that was set for him, cloud would defeat him in the end. again and again and shelby would be forced to watch.
         tears burn the corners of her eyes and he kisses her tears away, shushing her gently.
         “together, we’ll be unstoppable.” he promises.
         he kisses her and shelby is already submitting to him, her fingers clutching tight at his coat. it was as though if she tried to fight him, tried to stop him from hurting her friends, he was able to push those thoughts away, make her surrender to him. was it manipulation? was he controlling her mind?
         no, he couldn’t be.
         sephiroth’s grip is firm on her as he lowers her to sit on the bed, parting from the kiss to allow her to breathe. he presses a kiss to her neck, sucking a dark bruise to show exactly who she belonged to. shelby doesn’t fight him. she surrenders, as she should.
         he lowers himself between her parted knees, removing the entirety of her clothing. his emerald eyes linger over her body, her scars, her artwork. when his hands hold her in place, shelby can’t push him away as he devours her, stifled gasps of pleasure escaping her mouth. within moments, she’s jerking and twitching as her orgasm rushes through her and then another….and another.
         by the time she’s oversensitive, sephiroth is standing and rolling her onto her stomach. he’s just as impatient as she is, pulling her body towards him before he breaches, a shuddering sigh pulled from his lips. she’s tighter this way and much, much warmer.
         she cries out, though it’s a strangled mess as he rocks into her. he’s not quite as gentle as last time, but he makes sure to pay attention to her noises. he wishes he could hear her call out his name in the throes of pleasure. his hand cups her chin, and two fingers slide into her mouth, pressing against her tongue, and feeling the vibration of her sweet sounds. after a moment, his fingers wrap around her delicate neck to ground her to him and her sounds are muffled against his lips as he kisses her.
         moments later, she’s coming around him, body clamping down like a vice and keeping him deep inside. his teeth are in the space between her neck and shoulder, biting down until they pierce skin and blood meets his tongue. he laps at it, holding her tight against him as he comes inside her, making sure her body took in every ounce of him.
         when it was done, sephiroth parts from her. his gaze lingers on her, the marks on her hips, her tender throat, the bite on her skin. she’s positively ruined for any other man except for him.
         he bends down to her eye level, the corner of his lip curved up in a sinister grin. “we still have time for you to decide, my love. when you are ready, i’ll be there,”
         and when she blinks, he’s gone.
         shelby sits up with a silent grimace, and tears flow down her cheeks as she sobs into her hands.
         what was wrong with her?
         ~
         aerith is dead.
         shelby managed to be within mere inches of reaching her, but masamune came squelching through aerith’s chest. blood splattered on shelby’s face and she cried out in shock silently as aerith fell, the life already gone from her.
         cloud holds aerith against him, tears streaming down his cheeks.
         shelby can only watch as cloud cradles aerith against him. she feels a hand on her shoulder and sephiroth is whispering in her ear. “we are one step closer to our destiny, shelby. you know where to meet me,”
         and he’s gone, leaving another piece of jenova for them to fight.
         ~
         when the fight is over, cloud buries aerith in the lake just outside of the shell house. the group meets up at the conch house, recollecting themselves from the loss of their friend.
         barret turns his attention to shelby and marches up to her, pulling her up by the collar of her shirt. “what does that freak want with you?! why is he so obsessed with you?!”
         tifa manages to get barret to release her and shelby flinches when her shirt brushes against the mark on her neck.
         yuffie points it out and shelby quickly puts a hand over it, trying to hide it from the others. but barret is quickly smacking her hand away to observe the mark.
         “have you been seeing him? are you on his side?! answer me, goddamnit!” barret shouted in her face.
         shelby bursts into tears, unable to keep it back any longer. tifa is at her side, an arm around her shoulder to comfort her. shelby explains that she and sephiroth were lovers before he went insane and after a mission gone wrong that ended up with her in a coma, she didn’t get the chance to save him from finding out the truth of his history. she had been hurt greatly by his death and ever since he came back, he had been wanting for her to join him.
         “so he’s controlling you?” cloud had asked.
         “no,” red xiii replied for her. “they’re bound. if seems as if anytime sephiroth is around her, he is able to easily manipulate her to bend to his will.”
         “and you still love him?” tifa asked.
         shelby had hesitated, before she nodded slowly.
         “it’s not easy to unlove someone,” red xiii said, glancing to shelby with sympathy. “given what she’s told us about knowing what happens, sephiroth is trying to defy destiny and the road it has him on. it seems as though if shelby joins his side, he’ll be able to take over the planet with ease.”
         “yer not joining his side, kiddo!” cid exclaimed. “we won’t let that happen!”
         shelby could only glance at the ground, torn between two choices.
         the man she loved, or her friends.
         ~
         they reach icicle inn and get the supplies they need to go down the mountain. elena tries to stop them, but, well, rolls down the hill instead, like a klutz. shelby is among one of the snowboarders, but smacks into a boulder and gets separated from the others when she snowboards right off a cliff and into the white haze of the snow.
         she wakes up with a gash in her temple and her body temperature low. she shivers, covering her arms and rubbing at them to try and get some warmth in them.
         ice covers her eyelashes and her limbs go numb, causing her to collapse into the snow. before her eyes flutter close, she sees a pair of black boots coming into view.
         ~
         when she wakes, she and her friends are at the old man’s cabin. he tells them about the story of the crater, how the mountain is insanely dangerous. but the group persist and make their way up the mountain.
         when they finally come into view of the inside of the crater, it’s beautiful and destructive all at the same time. shelby wasn’t sure if she would ever make it this far, and she thinks that maybe she shouldn’t. because she knows what comes next.
         they fight jenova once more, defeating her. the highwind is flying above, heading for the place where sephiroth’s real body is.
         shelby doesn’t know if she can handle much more.
         ~
         when cloud, tifa and barret go forward, shelby wants to go after them, knowing what comes next. but she can’t, because there’s a bright light and the rest of her friends are knocked unconscious.
         sephiroth comes out from behind a large boulder and approaches her, his gait all the more menacing.
         she tries to back away, but he’s immediately on her, pushing her up against another boulder. his hand clasps behind the back of her neck, keeping her head tilted up as he kisses her. she released a muffled noise, her hands pushing on his chest. she can’t do this. not here.
         “you haven’t decided yet,” he murmured, pulling back to lock his gaze with hers. “the time is getting close and if you don’t choose, i will make the choice for you,”
         he pulls on her arm and bends her over the nearest surface, which is a slab of rock. when he yanks her pants down, shelby realizes she’s already soaked and warm. how had she not noticed?
         by the time his hips are rocking into hers, she’s already submitting. she doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. its like she can’t even fight when he’s around her. he holds her arms behind her back, one of his hands wrapped around her wrists.
         sephiroth is not gentle this time. he fucks her as though she’s nothing but a body to him, instead of someone he loved dearly. he tightens his grip on her wrists, gloved fingers digging into her skin, surely to leave vivid bruises. by the time he reaches his own orgasm, she’s shuddering and whimpering underneath him, her legs trembling to try and keep herself upright.
         he separates from her, keeps her held against the boulder as he leans down to whisper in her ear. “you will be by my side, and my mother’s. soon, you will leave everything else behind and join me,”
         and then he’s gone, leaving her ruined against the rock.
         shelby sobs silently, unable to mentally cope with this any longer. it was only a matter of time before her mind caved in.
         ~
         cloud gives sephiroth the black materia.
         the shockwave it produces collapses the entire area and everyone retreats to the highwind. bright lights erupt from the crater, and shelby watches as the weapons that the planet created wake up. it shook the highwind and the sheer energy that came from the ultima weapon caused tifa to pass out in shock. barret was at her side and shelby could only watch as the weapons fly off into different directions, and the highwind leaves the northern crater.
         ~
         it’s two days before shelby gets any inclination that something had happened.
         rufus shinra comes to their holding room, taking shelby to his office that overlooked the massive ocean. she’s not quite sure what he wants with her.
         “your friends told me you’re mute,” rufus spoke.
         shelby nods.
         “alright. before we go any further, you can use the master suite to clean up. food will be brought for you when you come back. take as long as you need,”
         shelby’s not sure what’s happening.
         ~
         the shower felt wonderful and she hadn’t felt cleaner than she did now ever before. when she’s taken back to the office, there’s a whole large cart of food waiting for her.
         rufus has apparently joined her in the dinner, which doesn’t surprise her, given that it’s his company that’s supplying the food. she signs ‘thank you’ to him, being polite before she starts eating.
         the food is amazing. shelby hadn’t had real food in weeks and she was thankful that rufus was being generous to let her have a few hospitalities.
         but deep down, she knew he wanted something from her.
         after eating, the food is cleaned up and that’s when rufus speaks.
         “do you know why you’re here?”
         she shakes her head.
         “there’s been a few rumors going around that you were once sephiroth’s lover. is that true?”
         shelby nodded.
         “i see.” he said. “so you’re shelby o’viere?”
         another nod.
         “intriguing. you were also a soldier captain until you went missing on a mission and ended up in a coma,”
         a flinch, but then a nod.
         “when you woke up, you were told sephiroth was dead.”
         shelby sighed quietly and nodded.
         “but now he’s not. he’s very much alive,” rufus said, leaning back in his chair. “your friend barret happened to slip that sephiroth has been visiting you frequently,”
         shelby stiffened and immediately hid her wrists in her lap, knowing rufus had already spotted the bruising around her wrists.
         “so it’s true,” rufus said in realization. “what does he want from you, shelby? if you tell us, i might be able to help you.”
         shelby shook her head quickly.
         “you don’t want my help?”
         she shook her head again and quickly wrote on the paper and pen she was supplied, sliding it over to him.
         i won’t give you anything. i don’t trust you and i don’t want your help.
         “interesting,” rufus smiled.
         shelby’s face fell. she didn’t like that smile.
         “so you’d rather protect the man who’s fucked you on several occasions and is trying to destroy the planet?”
         she quickly wrote again. it’s none of your business! i don’t want your help. you know nothing.
         “i know enough to see that he’s using you for his own personal gain,” rufus said. “he wants, you to join him?”
         it’s none of your business.
         “i see then,” rufus said, leaning forward in his seat. “i think you’ll be staying with shinra from now on. we can’t have you and your friends interrupting my plans, now can we?”
         ~
         by the time another five days go by, one of the weapons attack.
         her friends’ executions are interrupted and shelby sees the opportunity to finally get out. while rufus and heidegger are distracted, she punches rufus right in the nose, and manages to grab his gun, shooting heidegger in the arm and then escaping the room. when a few security officers try to stop her, she shoots them in their legs and then drops rufus’ gun, before finding barret in the room. shelby limps towards scarlet and punches her next in the face, breaking her nose upon impact before cait sith knocks her out.
         she, barret and cait sith manage to get out to the highwind, fighting their way through before cid and the others get on. cid pilotes the highwind and they are able to escape.
         when shelby sees tifa on the canon, in a slap-fest with scarlet, she grasps onto the ledge hard enough her knuckles turn white. barret throws a rope over and when tifa jumps, she manages to grab onto the rope and barret pulls her up.
         shelby hugs tifa tightly, mouthing that she’s sorry.
         ~
         they reach mideel.
         tifa catches two of the villagers talking about a spiky-haired man that had a large sword. tifa runs to the clinic and everyone in the group is horrified at cloud’s sickly presence.
         mako poisoning.
         tifa cries and shelby hugs her, wishing she could speak.
         ~
         tifa has decided to stay in mideel to take care of cloud.
         cid is appointed the new leader of the group.
         shelby doesn’t want the leadership, even though she was a soldier captain.
         when she tries to sleep that night, she hears sephiroth’s voice inside her head.
         “your time to choose has run out, my love.” he whispers, almost as if he’s right there beside her. “when we meet at the final battle, you will have no choice but to join me. we’ll rule the world together. i will not end, and neither will you,”
         his voice fades away and shelby winces as a headache comes on. she isn’t sleeping for the rest of the night.
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chloeartstudio22 · 2 years
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Watery Bodies and Watery Sites: Immersion and Porosity by V. Hunter
The aqueous nature of human bodies is made apparent when emotions rise to the surface and we excrete salty tears or when nurturing future offspring in the amniotic waters of the womb, or whilst sweating as a cooling response to exertion, hormonal-related flushing, anxiety or nerves. Fluid systems circulate throughout the body and require constant hydration draw from external food and liquid sources to keep them functioning.
'Relationships with watery sites invoked through site dance performance and site-based body practice'. Observing, intuiting and conversing with aqueous material worlds. How the moving body can explore felt responses to the various beach textures and watery features there. The emergent dance between or dance with the nonhuman or more-than-human occurring through this approach. A site-based body practice. Differentiating between dancing of the site and dancing about the site. Thinking about water and thinking with water.
Theorists: Stacey Alaimo, Jenn Webb, Tristan Gooley.
Our embodiment is 'never really autonomous' and 'we require other bodies of waters (that in turn require other bodies and other water) to bathe us into being'.
'As a choreographer, water has not just formed a conceptual trigger and thematic content for these works but also provided me with rich kinaesthetic material through strong corporeal memories of a childhood spent sea swimming, lifesaving, surfing and diving. At a somatic level, thoughts of the sea bring to mind the primacy of our own corporeal history in the internal sea of the amniotic fluids and in the inter-cellular process of breathing. But the shifting edge of where the sea meets the land is also an inestimable, indefinable contour that consistently changes and shifts, like the outline of a body'.
The solo contained a series of gestural movements combined with rolling, reaching and sliding actions that immersed the performer deeper in the mud, slime and post-tidal residue with each repetition. As an audience member, resonances of danger and discomfort were immediately experienced through processes of kinaesthetic and visceral empathy as an affect encountered through sensorial communication from the dancer's body to my own. Her discomfort and physical effort resonated through my own body as, with each roll and tumble, I felt my body responding to the dancer's own continued struggle.
Coastal environments invite us into immersive experiences not offered by other, everyday interactions with the world. The invitation to dig into the landscape, run sand between the fingers, swim and take the site 'in' to the body is an experience not afforded in quite the same physical and experiential way by parks, rural landscapes or cityscapes.
Robyn Longhurst's positioning of a porous, open body is exemplified particularly well through dance practice that explores the 'messy' materiality of bodies in 'messy' costal locations. In this work, water, sand, mud and slime become enmeshed, embedded and sited within both physical entities of body and environment.
How artworks or creative interventions might heighten our awareness of these watery relations. Such artistic and imaginative acts provide access to an embodied experience of our wateriness that might otherwise be too submerged, too subcutaneous, to repressed, or too large and distant (or even too obvious, mundane and taken for granted), to readily sense.
The potential space of a hydrocommons elicited through site-based body practice opens up in which shared wateriness and watery engagements-in-common are proposed. As I take my body into the sea, for example, buoyed along by its ebb and flow and supported by its saline density, my body also takes in the seawater. Its waters mix with my own in a process of aqueous exchange.
Currents will flow in water whenever there is an imbalance. When the sun heats the sea it creates two imbalances, in temperature and salinity, and this leads to water in certain areas becoming denser than in others. The Mediterranean Sea is one of the best demonstrations of this effect. The sun causes the confined sea's water to warm and evaporate more quickly than the Atlantic, making the Mediterranean sea-level sink, but also making it saltier and denser than water in the Atlantic. This sets up two currents, one near the surface where Atlantic water flows in past the Gibraltar Straits to 'refill' the Med; the other, much deeper current takes dense, salty water out into the Atlantic. These ocean currents are known as 'thermohaline' and are comparable to the way the sun heats the atmosphere, changing temperature and air pressures, which is what generates the winds.
Distinct bodies of water such as seas and oceans, therefore, have different repertoires or patterns of behaviour dependent on their geographic location and climatic conditions. They flow into and out of one another and exchange materials whilst retaining particular characteristics and components.
The estuary's purpose and function as a system that filters and churns bodies of water and negotiates relations between rivers, land and sea. They act as filtering systems between inland waters and the ocean. Through my immersion into the estuarine waters, I came to know some of its patterns, flows, temperature and material make-up by inserting my material moving body within its body of water. Through this tactic, a form of knowing from within, from the body's own aqueous interior emerged as opposed to contemplating the estuary from afar or from its shoreline. This choreographic mode of inquiry, therefore, illustrates how this form of site-based body practice extends beyond expressive gestures and danced responses. It extends the notion of 'the choreographic' to encompass a mode of corporeal attunement that heightens sensitivity to and sensibility of the movement characteristics and inherent choreographies in the material worlds we engage with. Patterns, flows, accelerations, tempos and densities converge between human and other-than-human entities in these intimate intra-active dances of exchange. As I swam in the estuary I couldn't help but think about the many agricultural chemicals and effluents running off the surrounding land and into the water to be filtered by the estuary and deposited in its silty bed and into my porous body.
Defines a wave as an occurrence or entity that takes energy from one place to another, the source of this energy is emitted from three areas, the wind, the moon and earthquakes. Swells, consist of waves that have enough energy to travel well beyond their place of origin. Waves, on the other hand, develop according to three main influences: the strength of the wind, the length of time it has been blowing and the 'fetch', which means the distance of open water that the wind has blown over. Eventually, the wave hits land and 'when they come into contact with a coastline they will typically do three things... get reflected, refracted, and diffracted.
Waters themselves have their own intelligences, that they can and should be approached as collaborators in our theoretical endeavors.
Our planet neither gains nor relinquishes the water it harbours, but only witnesses its continual reorganisation, redistribution, and relocation. This means that the water that temporarily comprises and sustains all of these bodies brings with it a history that is at least 3.9 billion years old and will continue far beyond the span of our own lifetimes, and all of those other bodies too.
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kim-monsterlings · 3 years
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Brae - M Merman x M Human (Reader) // NSFW
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The pictures do not belong to me. I only created the mood board. Do not repost my work anywhere.
Content: NSFW/Lemon; flirting, merman’s insecurities from his family, blowjob (+ mention of teeth, nothing too explicit), drinking alcohol, NSFW scene involving handjobs by the merman, mention of touching the merman’s slit, kissing, then angst with thoughts of drowning and a fluffy-ish ending
Wordcount: 6539
“Tropemas” Summary: when the mer insisting on befriending you returned day after day, falling for him was inevitable
Notes: this comes at the beautiful request of @nikipuppeteer​ and unfortunately I had already planned a soulmate au, but I loved the idea of a mlm mer fic too much to not do it!! This really got ahead of me and I love my boys, but so much I couldn’t let it go without it being up to my really annoying standards. I hope you love them <3
Masterlist // “Tropemas” Masterlist 
No matter the dangers accompanied by falling asleep on an unanchored boat, lethargy always overcame you. It was only a small rowboat and one swayed by the gentlest of waves, hardly a comfortable place to rest and your neck always ached the evening after, but time on the sea had become like second nature to you now, and the napping was long ingrained in your afternoons out.
Though waking with water dripping on your face was rare.
Only one cloud needed to mar daylight for you to wait indoors for a brighter day. Beyond the threat of losing yourself at sea, a storm would ruin the sketchbook tucked to your lap. Fragile paper couldn’t survive the wind or rain. Scattered scrawls were no works of art, but after hours rocked at sea and memorising the crags of the cove, it was your treasure, one you took to after moving from the cities and finding peace in the small costal town, and the view was the first you’d had not from cramped flats.
Rare enough, another droplet cool dribbling down your cheek roused you to find the sketchbook damp too, tossed open. Pages wettened still from slender fingertips – clawed, tracing your latest landscaping of cliffs, pencil lines smudging into faded lines. Of all sketches, this hardly finished and quickly ruining one was nothing to prize, but the creature tipping you and your boat precariously lower with every breath seemed enamoured by it.
Watching the creature, you were torn from wanting to scare him off – if you could even scare a thing like him, corded muscle trembling with balancing your boat, sharp-finned where saltwater shone on his dark skin – or wanting to feign sleep longer, just to admire how his teal scales shimmered, clashing and darkening with navy and streaks of black. The darkest scales tipped pectoral fins, sharpened points glinting like the narrow slits in his throat, or the ridged scales rising from the curve of a dark back, down to where his long tail swayed in the water.
You itched to draw him. If portraits were your talent, the sloping of his tail beneath the water would be decorating your papers before night, if he hadn’t ruined them.
Each touch of claws almost tore through the soggy paper and he turned the page. Saltwater dripped from hair curling in the heat of the sun when the creature lurched up and the boat jostled. His hand came to your thigh before you rose from the bench, like he had known you were feigning sleep. Where he was so soaked by the sea, you hadn’t thought it possible the slender fingers stroking up your leg could be so warm, pressing against you to trace a more developed sketch – of the same view, but he admired all the same.
Seasickness had never plagued you before in all your time at sea but how the creature rocked it then made your stomach lurch. He had torn through the paper and some noise tumbled free of you, a panicked cry or curse and you reached to snatch it back before he could damage it more. The merman had stiffened. Claws you hadn’t felt before snagged at you bare thigh and the swaying of your small boat only ceased when he rose and clutched the edge tight. In a small way, you were grateful for that.
You weren’t so thankful that it brought him closer.
For the depth of colours in his scales, the sunlight brightening his rounding eyes forced back your bitterness. Equally dark hair shone a hidden navy with his head canting, though he remained as silent as you. His thin lips pulled back and you thought it a threat with predator’s teeth bared, until a black tongue slid against the points of his teeth and he smiled; a macabre smile, but the beauty of it was like the rest of him.
The sketchbook rested on your lap now, cradled, and that was where he lifted a slender arm, down to the book. Pointing to the paper then to himself, and back to you. Again. Once more, before the boat rocked.
“Do me,” he whispered, soft, disarmingly so that he came an inch more from the water and sunk the boat that much lower. “Do me or I may tip your boat.”
He dizzied your head like the boat had your senses. “You want… you want me to draw you?”
“Draw,” he echoed. When he stretched out to the paper, you let him trace the faded pencil lines and bright eyes peered up at you beneath uneven hair tangling along his forehead. “Draw me. Tomorrow at noon. Or the boat tips,” the merman breathed again through a glinting smile of daggered teeth, not entirely a tease. Smaller claws once on your blank sketchbook traced across your bare thigh, grazing up before nudging the hem of your shorts.
The boat tipped without him to held it steady, and only when he began to retreat did you catch his hand. His fingers slid through yours, claws falling to trace the deeper grooves in your palm when you asked, “do you have a name?”
“Don’t you?” In sharing yours – and hoping he wasn’t in any way fae, he smiled wider. “Brae. Noon.”
The waters carried you another hour before the touch of his thumb tracing along your wrist as he had the sketches left your thoughts. It was harder to banish him from your mind completely and he followed you home, the odd warmth of him smothered to the back of your chest where it ached. Wondering how his scales felt against you in place of his claws did you no good.
Noon came and inevitably, you were settled as far out as the day before, though you hadn’t a real choice in whether you were to return, regardless of this being a day you would nap in the sunlight without his demand.
Mer roamed the cove – it was renowned for them, notorious creatures known for luring humans out to toy with them far from land. If Brae had looked before at your art when you napped, you had no way of knowing, of knowing whether any mer had approached you before. If you left the boat moored today and returned tomorrow, you had no doubt that you would be turned into the sea.
Maybe, a little part of you so far hard to smother, wanted to see him. It was curiosity settling you on the bench of the bench, a pencil twisting through your fingers above a blank page. Most mer, those who made their homes at the cove, shimmered brighter; not so much navy but sky blue, softer hues. Brae’s fins were just that bit sharper, eyes smaller slits with less light to them, his body far stronger than any others – the first like him you knew of.
Time passing beneath the sun worked in convincing you Brae hadn’t been anything more than a hallucination. Only the damp blemishes and ripped pages anchored you a little longer – and the memory of his touch was too hard to forget, until a splash of water tipped the boat and lips pulled back into an attempted smile.
You curled the open page from range of where his head canted and saltwater dripped.
With him leaning closer, now was an opportune moment to tell him that, actually, unfortunately, portraits weren’t you specialty, else he wouldn’t need to ask for his, but the words never came when light warmed his rounding eyes.
“When will you start?”
“Start drawing?”
“Start drawing me,” he said, though his stare had risen from the blank page. Like you had only the day before, Brae appraised from your crown to your toes, tongue caught in his teeth the whole time. The weight of it settled in your chest uncomfortably; whatever mer standards were, you doubted you were anything but unappealing to a creature so beautiful, but no comment came. “Now?”
“If I’m to sketch you-“
“You are.” Deep beneath him, the slow swaying of his tail rose through to his arms curling on the boat’s edge. He rocked with every move and his attention flitted from your towels bundled at your feet to your satchel bag. “To draw me. You are.”
“I need you to-“
“On the beach.” Words overrun as you lost your thought. He hadn’t once stopped moving, dipping under the water and rising the other side of the boat, or reaching out to just brush his hand to yours before rushing back. Only his chin rested on the boat now as he said, “we should do it on the beach. Safer. Dry.”
Safer.
Coughing over your laugh couldn’t muffle it when you turned closer. “Weren’t you threatening to throw me out my boat yesterday?”
He frowned. “Not now. Tomorrow. The beach tomorrow.”
“Brae-“
Claws tipped your chin and all breath rushed from you. They were weapons, like daggers poised to cut as the predator he was, but it felt like a caress how he brought your face closer, near enough the cool air from water clinging to him brushed you. “Tomorrow.”
Being so near, the strength to protest waned. How the pencil hadn’t snapped between your fingers was beyond you; it was all that was left stopping you from returning the touch, wanting to feel his scales – were they smooth or rough, how would they feel against you? – and all you knew was that the touch of claws against the tightness locking your throat didn’t feel like a threat anymore.
If this was how mer lured humans out, you weren’t against following.
“Will you lay still on the beach for me?”
“So you can stare at me?” Brae’s black tongue traced along his teeth with a low hum. “If you wish.” he said, a rising smile binding your throat tighter.
The claws now tracing against your top’s neckline bound your throat tighter. “So I can draw you.”
“Why still?”
“If you move, it’s harder to focus. Harder to draw you. I could- can I take a photo of you?” His answer came without a need to verbalise it; his smile was nothing like a threat, far from the twisting of his face and pressed fins beneath his jaw flaring. Under passing clouds, his darkening face harshened. In an effort to calm his growl, you swallowed. “Won’t people see you on the beach?”
Curiosity drove you to again. Before him, you hadn’t seen another mer so close. Flashes of scales glimmered beneath the water but they were a reclusive kind. Why he demanded a portrait yet refused a photography intrigued you, though not enough to outrightly question.
“See me?” Brae’s cheek turned onto his forearm. Beneath the high sun, seawater glistened on his dark skin, the edges of his gills and faint scales almost glowing. “Why would anyone rather look at me than you?”
The truth tingled on your lips. That he was beautiful, and your art could never do him justice nor any photo, but you swallowed it back. Until daylight fell and left a chill, the merman curled against your side, close enough one tremor could tip your boat. Only small talk passed between glances down, and each turn was returned with a small smile until those teeth earlier bared in threat no longer focused in your thoughts. Brae fell away with a lingering run of claws against your hand and the touch stayed with you long after you found yourself retracing the beginnings of his portrait that night. After the fuss of asking, it turned out you didn’t need a photograph to remember him.
Tales of reclusive mer lessened the popularity of this cove, which had been the enticement to it in moving. Finding a shelter of jagged rocks just beyond sight of anyone passing wasn’t hard, nor was it hard to find Brae among the waves when he crept up the beach- rather inelegantly but you couldn’t have done so any better with the huge tail dragging through wet sand.
“I see you sometimes.”
Brae heeded your plea that afternoon, resting not far from reach. Returning to water wasn’t a pressing urge when he only rested, hardly an exertion, but he thanked you for the slight shelter. His knuckles reached to brush you when he spoke and otherwise cushioned himself on his arms while you contented yourself by marking him.
“Sleeping is dangerous.”
That made your pencil slip. “Have you looked at my art before?”
Brae scoffed but turned away, not before his teeth bit on his lip. Shading came easier with the slight warmth in your chest that blossomed. If he had, he must have liked the art to want his own portrait and after a minute, you looked up to find your muse gone.
Not too far but a length of his tail away, the merman dug through hot sand. Looking beyond the way his scales glowed in this light, differently to when they shimmered beneath water, he cradled dozens of pebbles in his arms, face scrunched in looking for more. The pebbles mirrored him: some dark like coal, others among the occasional shell a soft blue. He continued unaware of your standing, muffling the pain of hot sand beneath your bare feet, how it stung like needles until you crouched and kneeled beside him.
“They’re pretty.” Brae clutched them closer. He attempted a sneak at your paper like he had all afternoon, and, like you had all afternoon, you tucked it away faster. This far, so soon, it was nothing of significance, but it had promise; promise from the evening of tending to it and tonight would be the same. “Will you take them back with you?”
“We gather pebbles.”
“Why?”
Brae’s teeth nibbled on his lip. “Mer secret.”
“Pebbles are a… a mer secret?”
He moved in silence, lifting two shades of pebbles before humming. “Yes. Pick.” One pebbled a blotched black, it was no hard choice to pick the softer teal pebble. Brae slotted it in his pile before his thin lips twitched. “Can I see?”
“No.” His smile fell, and his arm trembled beneath the stones. Had they not threatened to fall, the paper would’ve been in his grasp by then. “How will you take them all with you? Do you have something to carry them in?”
On your next afternoon by his side, Brae fawned over the netting pouch with holes just small enough pebbles wouldn’t slip through. He entrusted them to you overnight for safe keeping, had watched you clutch your bag tight as it weighed you down walking along the cove, and was quick to welcome you back, already settled and sprawled against the sand. He hadn’t understood the purpose of snow angels nor sand angels, but his arms turned out in the sand, close enough to snag your shorts, until he left you again.
From that day, your time together crept earlier. Unintentionally, but he always waited no matter how early you came to the cove, and he began returning your questions. Never telling the mer secret of why he hoarded colourful pebbles, but little questions, the most repeated being why you refused to show him his portrait, and you had to swat him away from your paper each time. On hotter days when the rocky shade didn’t suffice, he crept closer until his cheek nestled to your thigh beneath the shade of your sketchbook and when a quiet overcame you, his fingers ran along your forearm, following the twitching in your hand as you drew him laying against you.
Once, he slept on your lap. The running of claws fell low and only then you succumbed, carefully tucking back the dried ringlets from his smoothed forehead. Little scales scattered his jaw and glided beneath your fingers, though you stopped yourself from following them further when he turned closer and against your palm.
You missed him when you were home. On the evenings with only a nearly finished portrait to call company, you missed laying with him.
It hadn’t taken long for you walk down late one night, a half-opened bottle tucked near your supplies. Being near the cove now helped calm you, even if you came now only to settle against the familiar rocks and close your eyes to the crashing waves. Like the swaying of your boat, the faint warmth of sand beneath you lulled you, and you woke only to a soft whisper of your name.
“I drank… I drank this.”
Damp hair fell to your lap, a quiet groan turned into your thighs. The now emptied bottle fell into the sand and rolled down when Brae laughed, at first quietly, before turning and reaching out to your face. The touch of his claws fell to a loose embrace around your neck, where now he swallowed.
This late, you didn’t want to ask why he was here, how he had known – if he had even known, or if he came just like you. You only wanted to enjoy his company, however… inebriated. It hadn’t been much alcohol, and you would only feel slightly lightheaded had you finished it, but with Brae running his claws down your chest, it had to have been a little much for him.
“Wanna see,” he whispered – slurred, trying and failing to lean up on an elbow. “Me. Show… show me.”
Perhaps through pity, you did. Only through pity, and not from the slow rolling of heat in the pit of your stomach from his claws flexing, drawing you down closer as you opened to the page. It had come a long way, far from ever doing justice to the creature gasping, his defined jaw lowering and dark eyes lifting to you, but you welcomed the flush of pride from his growing smile.
“You make me look pretty. Pretty here,” he tapped the unfinished page. “Am not-not so pretty.”
Your voice came out a whisper as you returned the sketchbook, empty bottle with it. “You don’t think so?”
“Me? Pretty?” Brae huffed, a hot breath blowing his dried hair. Falling in long ringlets, your fingers twitched and in the hopes he wouldn’t remember, you reached out to tuck it back. “My tribe. They’re pretty. Pretty. Not me.”
His cheek turned into your palm when you traced the smoother scales scattering his jaw, down to the dip of his collarbones. “Did they tell you that?”
“Always. Not-I’m not them-like them,” he mumbled, losing himself to the alcohol still thick on his breath. “Never one of them.”
The sincerity sickened you. You wished your art could be better, so Brae saw a true reflection of himself but if it couldn’t be, if your work wasn’t enough, then all you could do was say so. “I think you’re beautiful,” you whispered looking out to the calming see, so lost in it you hadn’t noticed Brae shifting closer until he was level with you. “You are. Your colourings and how you lay in the sun and… you’re beautiful.”
You had more to say, so much more, but sand became your pillow. It dirtied your hair with your head tipping further back, a deeper angle to the kiss with Brae’s thumb pressing down on your chin. His parting lips carried a salty tang, a stronger sense of your emptied alcohol, but it fell away with his breaths hastening when his curling tongue tasted you, too.
Those same lips rose into a sly smile when you found the strength to reopen your fallen eyes and found Brae kissing himself lower. Drunken touches only minutes ago felt coherent now, bunching up your shirt for his lips to warm your stomach. Pressed beneath the muscle of his tail, a slow friction worked you into a heat but he fell further with his kisses nesting lower, a pause when he tugged on your shorts.
Every touch made you tremble. Brae settled between your legs and the sight alone was burning through you. He ran soft fingers down, following your stiffened cock as it twitched and ached. His tongue jutted through his lips to the side almost in thought, a breath before his fingers stroked up your length.
“All this for calling you beautiful?”
The merman’s head canted and that curling tongue flicked up the underside of your cock. Brae’s kiss rounded against your tip until he had you hard in his mouth and your eyes rolling back from the heat of him. For a creature of spines and claws and fangs, he kissed you reverently, deeper breaths growing shallow until he swallowed around you.
Through blurring eyes, barely lifting from the sand feeling hotter beneath you, you watched and felt his lips closing around you, groaning with his flattening of his tongue along the sensitive skin. Brae braced a hand on your tensing thigh and when the other stroked lower, a slight touch of claws grazing, you groaned and rolled your hips deeper against his hollowed throat.
Soft hair threaded around your hand. His growl rumbled deep to your hips as he bowed with your guidance, arching up until his throat tightened against you. Heat rushed in your stomach and his thick tongue swirled across your tip. The warmth of his lips fell down to your thighs the longer your body trembled.
“No.” Gentle fingers pinched your jaw until your lips met his. He tasted of saltwater and you and faint alcohol, nipping your tongue. “For… for being you.”
Until the sheen left his eyes, his smile no longer lopsided, Brae rested against you. Passing whispers came beneath the darkening sky and many were from you; with each whisper of his beauty, though you burned saying it, he turned impossibly closer and ghosted lips down your throat, your chest, wherever you were nearest.
“Remind me to call you beautiful more often,” you said, leaning over him. Weak arms ran up to your neck and it felt like a goodbye when he kissed you sweeter. No teeth caught your lips and no claws curled into your nape, only a touch of foreheads before he struggled into the water.
He had told you not to watch – “it’s embarrassing,” he’d frowned, the dead weight of his tail dragging in the sand – but you watched him go, and it was the last you saw of him for almost a month.
Your corner of the cove remained abandoned by the merman. No marks in the sand were left to show if he had ever come and from there, you couldn’t see far out to the waves, not like a mer could. If he watched you where you waited for him with your heavy bag and a nearly finished portrait, he never came.
Floating no longer felt right. Being on the water wasn’t right. This beach was wrong without a glimmer of navy flitting near you and on the sunniest days, the water almost clear, a hint of scales wouldn’t be missed when you stared down. The portrait was finished now; it had been finished for days.
If something had happened to him-
The thought burned in your throat and you swallowed it back.
Worse: if something hadn’t happened to him, Brae chose not to see you.
And if Brae truly avoided you, he couldn’t stop whatever creature had begun bumping under your boat. The surface barely rose with the smallest of waves but your boat rocked again, until water splashed with every jolt, not so different from the day Brae had almost toppled you, but different in every way.
Brighter scales darted beneath you before you ducked back into the – relative – safety of the boat. This wasn’t your merman, but the churning in your stomach made you think it was his tribe. For whatever reason, they taunted you, and at least two were on you now, countering the other’s hits so all you could was curl your knuckles against the bench until they ached.
You were going to be sick.
What could a frail oar do against creatures like them?
You were going to be really, really sick.
Any option was as bad as the other. Shore was too far to swim to if you wanted to avoid a watery grave. Trying to row and lowering the oar into water would be surrendering your only paddle. You couldn’t leave your boat. The portrait bundled on your lap would be ruined; they would ruin it.
It stopped with a heavier jolt, tipping so far water flooded your feet. The jaunts fell away minutes ago but your head swum too much for you to notice anything more than the shaking in your knees, chest braced against your thighs. One final shove to your boat shoved everything against you forward. Your bag skidded, the bench almost giving out beneath you, towels tangling, but the final shove didn’t topple you.
It surged closer to shore.
Only the faintest glimmer of navy disappeared when you looked back.
Water hadn’t felt right because it wasn’t. The rumours of mer weren’t folktale falsehoods. Maybe Brae wasn’t like them, but they tried to overturn you. They tried to ruin you and your portrait and had they succeeded, the promenade steady under your running feet wouldn’t have been something you were likely to experience again.
Leaving the cities had been your distraction. Leaving your family and friends for a calmer life by the beach had always been your dream, to turn to a simpler, less stressful life, yet the beach couldn’t be your solace anymore. Thinking of even your boat made you lurch to your feet in need of something to occupy you, anything but that merman lurking in the sea, anything but the creature you still wanted to see again, the same whose face mocked you from a hidden sketchbook.
After hardly any time at all, the sudden loss almost brought you to your knees. If this was grief, you didn’t want it. If that pang in your chest was heartbreak, you didn’t want it. Flames came so near to the portrait born of hours and sun and kisses it singed, but burning the paper felt like a burning your heart from your chest.
One last time.
One last hope.
Once more, before you burned him from your thoughts. The same taunts that occupied you like intrusions softened at night, when you imagined that in place of your fist was his touch, slender fingers rolling where you cock twitched beneath him. They came in dreams, in moments you lost concentration, and stalked you down to the cove where you settled the bag, the portrait tucked beside a lighter and driftwood.
Whispers of your name from the stirring waves doused the fire in your chest. Brae made it no further than the reach of waves when you collapsed against him, rambling to his lips, “it’s done. I finished it for you but-“
“It will be beautiful.” Brae framed your face in cold and trembling hands. “Like you.”
There was a haste to his kiss unlike before. When he teased you before with light nips rousing your desire, those touches tore back your shirt and bared you to the cold night. Brae wasted not one breath that was better spent settling against you pushed apart thighs, where the hard palm of his hand fell low to rub over your shorts until he coaxed you to roll up into his touch. Slender fingers curled around your hardening cock and stroked how you had dreamed of for weeks, the pad of his thumb following up to tease the seeping slit at the head.
“I want to touch you too,” you rasped. Brae’s laugh softened in the whistles of wind at your grunt when he rubbed tighter to your thick base, but he was soon to gasp with your fingers curling into the rougher scales on his hips until he dragged against you. “Here?”
Not even the crashing waves at his back could drown out the small whine. Where his taut stomach melded with the lightest of his scales, a slick coated them. The touch of it burned against your fingertips, tracing the swollen slit. He pumped your cock in his tight fist how you teased him, arching up when he ground down, his erection rising thick from the slit.
From laying over you, Brae’s trembling lips brushed yours once more. The slow fall of his forehead brushed your hair, his curls loose against your cheek and fluttering with every deep breath. How long he could breathe without struggle on land changed, and the touch of your hips rolling up, rolling against him, clearly took a toll, shorter gasps nestling into your neck. This was an exertion for him; how he trembled at your thumb following where his hand, rolling over the slick on the swollen, purple head.
Grinding his cock to yours came with difficulty as his tail dragged in sand, but a shock of pleasure bolting up to your crown until you strained to rut against him again. The desperation locked in your bodies wouldn't settle for anything less than his cock against yours. Soft blue and deeper navy nearer the tip, your mouth dried. The memory of his lopsided smile after stealing your alcohol struck you, too similar how he slurred you name from curling his fingers and gripping your cocks together. The cry lodged in your throat muffled against the slope of his throat where you kissed the scales there, chasing the rush of his pulse beneath his jaw.
Slick from his slit and hot, it was too much to bite back every moan and curse when he rolled his hips in time with yours. Brae learned fast. His palm rolled your sac slowly, drawing rougher pants, but it was a tighter rub that made you buck up. Your cock jutted against his base, far thicker and swollen, but against the wetter scales and he cried, “again. Closer, please.”
His hot touch stirred you into a delirious high. Brae was twitching, his body rocking hard and harder when you met him faster, arching up to graze the slick, sensitive skin of his slit.
"I want you," he breathed, disoriented kisses slowing when he trembled. "Come. Come for me."
If not for him, you dragged against his waist so you could feel the heat of him yourself. Brae’s fingers locked and he felt it as you did, your cock stiff when you came against his stomach, his scales, rasping when he rutted into his palm and a thicker release came minutes later against your thighs after you traced where his cock thickened at the slit.
In the moment his final gasp left him and Brae fell against you, he ought to be drawn, to be remembered forever. Soft arms wrapped you close to the warmth of him, away from the colder winds in the shelter of the rocks. Hot sweat glistened on his scales. It stuck your hair to your cheeks, where he brushed it away with kisses and closed eyes.
“Do you think anyone saw us?”
Brae's breath caught, but he swallowed past it. His knuckles grazed down your chest and up again. Stray scratches stung beneath the touch and his parted lips kissed it away. "I hope so," he breathed, and the words stirred something in your chest. Something primal and prideful; you wanted to be seen with him, this merman come to you one day, who decided they wanted you. "You were very loud."
Panting to his chest, you smiled. "And you were beautiful."
If there were mer watching, you hadn't noticed.
No head rested heavy on your chest when you woke. Evening had been a blanket to his embrace, but the stars were your only companion at the cove. Sand settled without hint of a trail leading down to the sea and if it had been windy, you might have excused it, pardoned the long-lasting cold on your bare body.
Those questions he had brushed away with a press of his tail to your hips rose to your throat like a fuel on fire. Brae came back. Brae left, after taking you on the beach. He returned to the sea and he left you alone and bare and shivering. He abandoned you where his tribe could see, where they could reach you and your bag-
Your bag.
It had been right there, right on the rocks and wedged firm. No wind could part it from them. No wind had, and no wind would lay it so carefully by the sloping of the beach, the flap resting open. The bag looked deflated, almost like… like it was empty.
“This isn’t funny,” you called out. It was a joke. It had to be a joke. If not a joke then something far, far crueller and each staggering step nearer the waves was a twist of the knife in your stomach. “Brae?”
Harsh water frothed at your ankles. It rose in spitting shivers up to your knees then thighs, where the evening’s memories dried and washed away. The waters this shallow were clear of mer but not of what you prayed was litter. Up to your hips now, stumbling in choppy waves and the cry that tore from you was unholy. It burned up through throat like bile and stung in your eyes. It stung in your chest where your ribs caved, the soaked papers and hours of nights in your lounge wasted in one, cruel jaunt.
Not just his portrait wrecked on the waters he crawled from, but your sketchbook.
How you found your way home was a miracle. You should have stayed in the water. You should have let Brae drown you, too.
Had his tribe done it? Had they been there while he stroked your cheek and lifted your chin in a soft kiss, his scales warming where your thighs tightened? That was all you could think and all you could bear to think. If it were anything more – if he really was so cruel, you’d rather never know, would rather blame it on his tribe for tearing him away.
You could drown your boat like your sketches. That cove belonged to him. It belonged to his tribe and you wouldn’t go near the water again, not willingly and if you saw him again, it would be in nightmares.
The only family you had lived in the cities far from you and too far for them to consider buying your boat, even taking it off your hands. The wood of it was old and would burn on a fire; best to be burned completely than sunken. Brae didn’t deserve anything of yours. He’d drowned your heart with your treasure.
If this was how mer lured humans out, you weren’t against following.
Finding your boat moored and undamaged rose with a sting. The cruelty of his tribe ruined the wood beneath the water from their earlier taunting. You wished they had done more. If his tribe had sunken it, finding a dark bundle of seaweed cradling pebbles wouldn’t have made your legs sway beneath you. Whatever the mer secret behind them was, it wasn’t enough to entice you back. They weighed down your boat as they weighed on your shoulders but in settling into it before setting it alight, you couldn’t help but lift one.
It was the pebble he had asked you of, choosing from two. In your hand it felt like his scales, smooth and cold and wet.
It was still wet.
Pebbles scattered among larger stones as it fell from your hand but you didn’t watch them fall. You watched the fingertips careful on your arm, how they traced down your tense muscles with an unwelcome familiarity.
“The pebbles,” you seethed. “What do they mean?”
His touch softened and both hands rose to stroke against your unyielding fist. “Do you like them?”
Brae yelped as the favoured pebble smacked his forehead; you held another ready, but you hoped not to use it. Not to hurt him. The pain fresh in your chest urged to you but you couldn’t, and the tenderness in his hands slipping through your unfurling fingers held you closer.
His face scrunched. “When we wish to court a mate, we present pebbles. Do you like them?”
Brae never moved so slowly before – before he had wounded you enough to want nothing more than to hurt him; him, with the claws gentle on your palm and sharp teeth behind lips gracing your knuckles. No smile warmed his harsh face. Some satisfaction warmed you in shadows creeping beneath his eyes, where he lifted your palm. Loose tickled your fingers.
“I left my tribe.”
Brae’s whine quieted when you said, not in question, “taunting me wasn’t enough for them to accept you, was it?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Will they welcome you back if I take your pebbles?” Water splashed with his surging up and it was then you succumbed, lifting your hand to frame his dripping face. Every whisper and clashing apology fell beneath you, blood rushing in your ears from just his lips turning to your wrist. “I’m leaving, Brae. Pretend I accepted. Say you drowned me if it helps you return to your tribe. Why you would want to is beyond me, but-”
“We mate for life. This is me. These,” he whispered, and beneath the water, distorted netting carrying more pebbles swayed when he lifted another. “These are me. Proposal of courtship.”
Approaching you had to be at their insistence. The threat to topple your boat them, too, and why Brae had insisted on land. Safer, he’d said, but that was where he hurt you more than they ever had. They may have told him to use you or trick you to love him, but it hurt the same, at their tricks or his.
He hadn’t looked up from where you stroked his cheekbones until you asked, “what does it mean to leave a tribe?”
“If I stay, I trespass.”
“What do mer do to trespassers?” Brae turned his face into your palm and your stomach fell. The choice before you wasn’t one you welcomed or even wanted to consider, but you were already reaching for the pebble you had thrown at him and curling it in your hand. “If you follow me, that is your choice. I owe you nothing. Even this is more than you deserve.”
The boat was tipping.
“But if you follow me,” you drew in a sharp breath. “I say when the courting is over and if I accept you. If I refuse, you respect that.”
His breath warmed your lips.
“And I will never draw you again.”
It was a lie. That morning, his face plagued every breath. Every fleeting memory of his touch consumed you. Scatterings of scales covered old papers and already your fingers itched for more, to purge him from you, but when you accepted – if you accepted him, only then would you ever consider sharing your art with him again.
Burning your boat could wait until the water dried from the sloping of scales to your chest, lips soft on yours and apologies sweet on his tongue. It could wait until he followed you wherever you chose, offering pebbles and nights sprawled on warm sand, where you always woke with a head nestled against your throat.
When.
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wolverinesorcery · 2 years
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To what extent do you think the Bucca is connected to the folk devil "horned one" of other parts of the UK? Is the Bucca just one face of that or are They more closely tied to the specific landscape and rhythms of Cornwall?
Oops I'm sorry that last ask wasn't supposed to sound like assume that they are for a fact related, I'm curious and don't know much about them including that
I'm going to approach this ask from two different points (or horns lol) because the answer is technically complicated based on your general views/aims/the context it's approached in. The first point is via something like academic folklore/folklore research divorced from religion/spirituality/veneration/worship.
I'm also going to call the horned one/old one/witchfather the folk-devil since it's an easy name to type a bunch!
From a recorded folkloric perspective, the Bucca has very little writings about it from confirmed sources! They're generally lumped in with sea-spirits/merfolk since it's easier for researchers to do that when there's very little recorded folklore with the name "Bucca" specifically attached. There are however a WEALTH of "devil" folktales that ring true with the folk-devil of the rest of the uk. These tales are super super interesting and sometimes quite funny, the first few that spring to mind are Devil's jump & the folk-devil getting some Tinners caught up in a wild party. It's easy to assume that these could have been either originally tales of the Bucca (deity) that were Christianised in an attempt to tame the Cornish OR morality plays by the Methodist church. So, from a purely academic perspective, yeah, there's a lot of overlap and similar domains.
The second approach is from the perspective of someone that worships the Bucca (me lol).
From a folk-deity perspective, where the Bucca is a whole and complete being, They are inseparably linked to Cornwall & the lands, weather patterns and the sea. Even though there are certainly overlapping domains and realms as the English Folk-Devil, that's true of any number of pantheons having similar realms with others. It's, in my opinion, incredibly important to note that Cornwall largely grew its own folklore as an isolated peninsula from the rest of the UK! (There's a lot of archaeological evidence that we traded with other costal nations, but the actual ways of getting to Cornwall via land were significantly hampered by unforgiving terrain).
Another thing is the Bucca's twin natures (that are unable to be separated from each other) are largely related to the weather and how mercurial and violently it can change! Cornwall is infamous for extreme weather in the UK since we kinda just stick out and get a battering from all angles. Also, as I think noted before on this blog, in my experience my connection to the Bucca is weaker within England...which would probably not be the case if They were synonymous/a face of the folk-Devil. Also their importance within Cornish hidden folk customs isn't to be understated either, the hidden folk/unseen guests/Pobel Vean are incredibly unique to Cornwall and the Bucca is part of that even from the perspective of a sea-spirit figure.
(Also, the idea of Bucca as a sea spirit is linked to an Irish name iirc, which is completely fair since the Celtic nations have a lot of cultural exchange within them!)
TL;DR - From an academic folklore perspective, they're similar and sometimes interchangable. From a folk deity perspective, they have as much overlap with the English folk-devil as the Roman & Greek Pantheons do. I can go into more detail if you like - just send another ask :-)
Also if any folk-devil/old one/horned one followers wanna chip in I'd love to hear other ideas too because I am an unrepentant folklore lover lol. Comparing notes is fun!
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generalfebruary · 3 years
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Some Miser Family headcanons!
As the Goddess of every element Mother Nature created all her children by herself.
Heat and Snow, Lightning and Thunder, The Tides are twins; Wind Siblings are quadruplets.
Heat Miser (element of fire and heat) – He may be very grumpy, short-tempered and rough but deep inside he’s a very sensitive person. He doesn’t like when people are afraid of him and hates being called the devil.
Heat Miser fears nothing, except the strictness of his mother.  
He controls the Sun and also makes the weather warm or hot. When Heat is mad, he can unintentionally cause large fires.
Snow Miser (element of ice and cold) – The most joyful guy in the family. He’s funny and charismatic. And he’s the one who is always ready to cheer up his family members. However, sometimes he can be too careless and may not notice how some of his jokes can too rough, even if he doesn’t want to hurt the feeling of others. Because of that he often argues with his brother Heat Miser.
His duty is to make the weather cold and to cover the earth and trees with snow so that they don’t freeze so much.
The North Wind (element of clouds and winter) – The leading wind among Wind Siblings. Prideful and snooty, he lacks consideration for others. He used to achieving his goals by deceiving others and has an inflated sense of self-importance and impunity.
He creates clouds for precipitations, controls the northern winds, makes air cold and dry and is in charge of the winter season.
His hobby is causing storms and cloud sculpturing, he loves to shape clouds into different forms of animals or objects.
The East Wind (element of rain, fog and autumn) – The fear of all animals and an extremely passionate hunter. The one who invented the hunting season.  She’s very strict and conservative, thinks that all creatures should live by established rules.
It is her duty to make the weather rainy and foggy. She often creates rain showers during the summer in order to save plants from hot winds of her sister South.
She controls the eastern winds, makes air cool and moist and is in charge of the autumn season.
The South Wind (element of sand, dust and summer) – Mistress of the deserts. For the hottest wind she’s pretty chill. She doesn’t like to be bothered by anything or anyone. The only things she really loves is dancing and singing.
South Wind creates dust and sand storms. She often causes drought around the world. She controls the southern winds, makes air hot and dry and is in charge of the summer season.
The West Wind (element of flora, fauna and spring) – Even if she’s the sixth child in the family all elements treat her as the youngest sister. She’s very loving and sympathetic.
Her duty is to regulate the population of each species. She also revives the nature after the winter and is in charge of the spring season. She controls the western winds and makes air warm and moist.
Lightning (element of light and lightning) – A perfectionist with very high standards which makes her worry a lot about diligent fulfillment of her duties. She’s self-disciplined and responsible, but sometimes she can be too nervous and fussy.
Lightning controls the sky; she charges the earth with the energy of light by throwing lightning bolts, so that plants can grow faster.
She has very strainer relations with her twin brother Thunder because of their different personalities.
Thunder (element of sound) – The smartest child in the family. His siblings often ask him for advice. He doesn’t like bustle and prefer to stay quiet. Some people see him as a very shy and slothful person.  He can play all types of musical instruments, but his most favorite is violin.
He’s jealous of Lightning and feels extremely underappreciated. He’s responsible for warning all living creatures on the Earth before his sister throws her bolts, but due to a lot of quarrels between them and Thunder’s bad reaction he does it too late. That’s why we always hear thunder clap after the lightning.
Earthquake (element of earth) – Very kind and sincere guy. Sometimes people consider him a tactless person, but he never had intentions to be rude to anyone on purpose.
His duty is to form the landscape and caves, to generally decide where which biome should be. He creates precious recourses such as gems and metals.
While making the earth shake he doesn’t care about living creatures at all, especially about people. In the past they made him cry a lot and so hard that his face cracked because of the tears. That’s why in some places seismic activity is a more common phenomenon than in others, because he doesn’t like people who live there for hurting him and his minions.  
He resolves territorial disputes of his siblings.
Ebb/The Low Tide and Flow/The High Tide (elements of ocean) – Known as The Tides. They have completely opposite personalities. If Ebb is gentle and soft, then Flow is pushy and stubborn.
Brothers control the water movements.
Ebb prefers to live deep in the ocean, because he doesn’t want to communicate with people who he sees as a threat to the aquatic world.
Flow likes to cause large tsunamis and floods. He gets mad when someone fishes on his territory. He also always fights with The South Wind for the costal lands.
______________________
I tried to explain some nature phenomena in their headcanons.
If you still have any questions you can ask me.
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jaspersresources · 3 years
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𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐.
requested by @storyofwhoiam​ !! 
the more you ignore me, the closer I get:
“ you’re wasting your time. “ 
“ I am now a central part of your mind's landscape. “ 
“ when you sleep, I will creep into your thoughts. like a bad dept that you can’t repay. “ 
“ the more you ignore me, the closer I get. “ 
“ I will be at the bar. “ 
“ yeah, I’ve made up your mind. “  
“ beware ! I bear more grudges than lonely high court judges. “ 
“ take the easy way and give in. “ 
“ ah, you’re asking for it. “
now my heart is full:
“ there’s gonna be some trouble. “ 
“ a whole house will need re-building. “ 
“ your father cracks a joke, and in the usual way, empties the room. “  
“ tell all of my friends, I don’t have too many. “ 
“ rush to danger, wind up nowhere. “ 
“ I’m tired again. “ 
“ I’ve tried again. “ 
“ now my heart is full. “ 
“ and I just can't explain, so I won't even try to. “ 
“ underact, express depression. “ 
“ could you pass by ? “
it’s not your birthday anymore:
“ your voice it might say "no" - but the heart has a will of its own. “ 
“ It's not your birthday anymore. there's no need to be kind to you. “ 
“ the will to see you smile and belong has now gone. “ 
“ it’s not your birthday anymore. “ 
“ there’s no need to be kind to you. “ 
“ did you really think we meant all those syrupy, sentimental things that we said ? “ 
“ It cannot be given, and so it must be taken. “ 
“ all of the gifts that they gave can't compare in any way to the love I am now giving to you. “ 
“ right here, right now, on the floor. “
everyday is like sunday:
“ trudging slowly over wet sand. “ 
“ back to the bench where your clothes were stolen. “ 
“ this is the costal town, that they forgot to close down. “ 
“ come, armageddon, come ! “  
“ every day is like sunday. “ 
“ every day is silent and grey. “ 
“ in the seaside town, that they forgot to bomb. “ 
“ oh, come, come - nuclear bombs. “  
“ share some greased tea with me. “
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tinytourist · 3 years
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The Northeast Coast
One of the things that NZ does well is vacation time. Our offices are closed for 3 weeks over the holidays, and I was not planning to waste any of it - get ready for a bunch of blogs! First up was the Northeast Coast with Mary. Not to be confused with where I grew up, instead of snow and pine trees the December landscape here was filled with sand and fern trees.
On Friday afternoon, Mary flew to Auckland to pick me up and we headed to Whangarei. What was only meant to be a 2 hour drive up the motorway ended up being a 4 hour excursion through dirt roads. A huge portion the the 1 was closed down and we were given very poor directions to turn around and follow the person in front of us.
Eventually, we made it Whangarei where we got some high quality Thai food with fast service. We were greeted at our Airbnb by our welcoming host who gave us recommendations for how to spend our next day, which we followed to a T.
In the morning we headed to the hub, or the town center, for some coffee. We also picked up a portable speaker so as not to have to listen to static radio for the whole trip. This became affectionally known Be-Boop. Then, we ventured to the Whangarei Falls where it began to feel like we were on vacation. To continue the relaxation, we drove to Whale Bay which is a beautiful calm beach with bright blue water. There, we relaxed and swam. Mary read as I caught up on my blogging.
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Next, we drove up to Paihia which is a costal town in the Bay of Islands. We were staying in a cute little cottage just off of the main road. Mary and I poured ourselves a glass of wine and went out on the deck to meditate when Mary noticed a rustling in the bushes. We looked over to find a large hedgehog. Mary had been told that we were meant to kill hedgehogs as they feed on rare insects and are considered to be pests.
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Neither of us could bring ourselves to kill it, so instead, we swept it into a large pot and messaged the host about our capture. She was not impressed. She grabbed the pot and let the hedgehog out at the bottom of the hill.
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For dinner, we treated ourselves to a nice meal at a little restaurant on the water called Terra. Mary immediately recognized the waiter. It turns out that he served her at a restaurant in Wellington! What a small country. We enjoyed some fresh oysters that were caught in the bay across the road, caprese salad, potato beignets, and the fish of the day. It was a delight!
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After dinner we walked along the beach and watched the sunset. The next morning, we went into town, grabbed some coffee, and hopped on the ferry to Russell. This town holds a lot of first for NZ. It was the first seaport, European settlement, and capital. The history is evident from the old architecture which reminded me a bit of home.
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When we landed, we walked to Oneroa Bay Beach and scoped out a nice shaded spot where we meditated and relaxed for a few hours. Even though we kept reapplying sunscreen, the NZ sun won out. We both had a few random burn patches on our bodies.
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Back in town we got a glass of wine and an appetizer at a restaurant overlooking the water. We were serenaded by live guitar music as we sat and talked about life. We had a little time before the next ferry departed, so we perused some local shops. We ended the night in Paihia with a quick, uneventful Indian dinner.
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Earth is Space Australia “Storm of Ice.”
“Are you going to bother telling me where we are going?” Krill wondered examining the camera feed from the hull of the ship and out into the vast darkness of space.
Compared to what he was used to, this part of space was relatively empty, no nebulae, no ice fields, and only the distant arm of a spiral galaxy to add light to their movement.
The captain waved a dismissive hand, “Oh, nowhere important.” Krill panned the camera around to face forward watching as the bright yellow of a terribly average star winked at them from the darkness. As fast as they were going, the star ahead slowly began to expand.
“Initiating breaking sequence, Captain.” One of the crewmen announced.
Krill panned the camera a little further to their right and watched in mild awe as the gas giant grew large in his vision dwarfing its moons a thousand times over. Bands of wind spun upon its surface varying from different shades of red and cream. They entered the pull of the gas giant at just the proper angle to cut across its field and around slowing all the while form the resistance of its gravity before continuing off into space and towards that average main sequence star expanding in the camera’s lens. Expanding much slower now that they had decreased their speed.
A couple of ships detached from the hull as they passed the next planet over.
Krill panned the camera over again in time to see the dark side of a planet winking at him with a thousand distant lights.
“Where are we, Captain?”
“Oh, that, just a midsized human colony.”
The ship was forced to turn following in a circular arc around the sun as they raced towards the next planet, a distant speck in the vastness of space barely visible against the light of the sun.
The captain took place at the helm and manually began slowing the ship even further. He wouldn’t have risked doing the same thing as fast as they had been going earlier, but now he was able to bring the ship to a slow drift as they approached the planet. Despite the captain’s wishes, Krill moved over to the navigation console and seated himself bringing up the current statistics on the system.
“Main sequence star eight planets.”
“Nine.”
“Sorry what?”
The Captain cleared his throat… nothing I uh…. Nothing.” Though Krill could still detect a hint of annoyance on the man’s face. He wondered what that was all about.
“Home to A class C habitable planet, with terraforming, and a class A-7 death planet.” He went quiet, “Captain, we aren’t visiting another death planet are we?”
The captain’s grin was barely visible at this angle, but Krill swore he could still see it, “You know me to well.”
Kill groaned inwardly pulling up the statistics on this supposed death planet, when he received an error message, he switched to a quick planet wide scan.
“Um, Captain, I really don’t think we want to be here. This planet is terribly unstable. The volcanic activity alone make it uninhabitable. I mean the crust MOVES and shifts and breaks apart causing terrible earthquakes. This planet has hundreds of earthquakes every minute some of them large enough to topple mountains. There are at most 1,500 active volcanoes and at least 20 right now that are ERRUPTING. And that doesn’t even begin to cover the sheer mass of wind storms, and electrical storms captain….. LIGHTNING ON A PLANET. Don’t you think that is a bit extreme? It gets even worse, it gets so cold here that water crystalizes in the atmosphere and falls as ice.”
Frustratingly, the more he talked, the larger the human’s smile grew.
He clearly wasn’t understanding the dangers, so Krill continued, “Its highest recorded temperature was 134 degrees, captain, a little more than halfway to boiling.” When that elicited only laughter he continued, “The lowest recorded temperature was -128 degrees”
The captain turned in his chair, “Damn, that’s cold.” He grinned and went back to work.
Krill stared at him, “Didn’t you hear me captain that’s 184 degrees kelvin, you cannot survive.” He plowed onward, “The winds can reach up to 253 miles per hour, and due to the massive oceans this fuels huge costal storms. These storms the produce smaller cells of wind that spins so fast it can uproot trees.  The atmosphere and the sun would literally cook you alive if you stayed out in the sun long enough. And if that’s not enough, the planet produces flash flooding.”
Now humans all around the bridge were giggling maniacally.
Krill was growing annoyed now, “The instability of the earth’s crust mixed with the oceans can cause extreme waves that would be deadly were you to be on the coast.”
The giggling was growing louder.
“Are you PEOPLE INSANE! This planet’s continents might as well be in the shape of a giant middle finger”
They were absolutely howling now bent double clutching their stomachs and kicking their feet.
The captain was doing his best to contain himself as they slowly moved in towards the planet’s single moon, and its large docking station. Krill kept grumpily silent as their ship was accepted into the bay, and the crew made preparations for their landing. Many of the ships auxiliary pods were being used. It seemed as if the effort to study this death planet was a well-organized one. He wondered what would be so important about this place that they would risk death.
The captain saw the other pods off before returning to krill, “You’ll be accompanying me on this mission.” He said as he began to pull on his gear. Krill wasn’t thrilled to see it was a heavy winter jacket, snow pants, and excessive rubber boots. The gloves the hung around his neck would make it nearly impossible for him to do anything useful.
Waffles, his dog, sat at his side already arrayed in a pair of dog booties tongue lolling past her sharp K-9 teeth.
Krill was never going to get used to her.
He followed grudgingly after the captain staring dejectedly at the large glass specimen container that would be his home for the duration of this mission. He wasn’t as durable as either the humans or the dog.
Unfortunately for them, they began by heading towards northern hemisphere of the planet, the half that was tilted away from the sun and likely to be freeing cold. And just as he suspected, when they entered the atmosphere, it was terribly volatile. Their ship was thrown back and forth and then back again rattling as if it was about to shake apart and sent them spinning down into the atmosphere to their deaths.
Eventually, the ship evened out above a thick layer of low-hanging clouds. The sky above was a clear crystal blue.
Ahead, the captain’s face was split with a wide grin.
Then they plunged downwards into the clouds and were immediately rocked by a terrible gust of wind and flurries of white. After the first shock, of impact, Krill wondered what the white substance was, he assumed it might be dust, but a closer inspection saw rivulets of water leaking down from the wings.
“What is that?” Krill wondered in horror and awe.
“Snow…. Looks like a blizzard.”
Krill clutched his seat, “A blizzard?”
“Yeah, mix high winds with extreme cold and that falling ice you were talking about.”
Krill’s eyes widened, it had never occurred to him that you could mix those things since one seemed bad enough.
“Captain, I think we should turn back.”
“Not a chance.” The man called.
Another terrible gust of wind rocked their craft blindingly white in the darkness. A proximity alert began to blare. The captain gripped the joystick of the craft teeth clenched pulling the craft into a level flight lowering the skids as he did. The ground as barely visible against the gusting snow as they skidded to a halt and the captain cut the engine. The noise didn’t abate, the sound of the roaring wind outside was enough to make Krill apprehensive as the man pulled on his gloves hat and a scarf.
Krill didn’t see an oxygen tank, “Captain, what about oxygen…. We can’t know what the atmosphere is like or what the cold will do to your lungs.”
The man just laughed as he clipped a leash to the dog’s collar ushering Krill into his heated and enclosed specimen tube.
The human took a deep breath and then opened the door.
He was immediately struck by a terrible gust of wind and flurry of snow that staggered him backwards, but he kept his footing and pushed out into the darkness. Krill looked on in worry just waiting for the human to drop dead from an inhospitable atmosphere, but he pushed onwards out into the darkness hands held up against gusting flurries of snow. Even the dog walked with her head down ears held back against the lowing wind as they trudged through the darkness puling Krill along behind them through the snow.
Not for the first time, Krill was reminded of the humans sheer adaptability and survival instincts imagining its ancestors covered in furs, and trudging through the inhospitable wilderness of their planet, of course nothing could really be worse than were they were now, and Krill was almost sure they would drop dead before reaching their intended destination, whatever that was.
They appeared to have been going for a long time before a bump in the trail lead them down onto a wide flat surface. Krill did his best to peer through the darkness and was surprised to find structures looming out of the darkness.
They were tall snow covered squares still and dark in the eerie white landscape. As the human walked Krill saw more structures towering up on either side of their wide flat path as if placed into neat manicured rows.
Large, dark skeletal structures loomed from the darkness breaching upwards like the spreading veins. Krill shivered at the alien structures wondering what they could be.
The wind had died down allowing the snow to fall in large lazy flakes from a black sky. Enough of it had fallen that the human pushed through it at about knee height as the dog leaped and pounced though the white at the human’s side.
Was this some remnants abandoned civilization, the ghost town of a people that had abandoned it due to some extreme climate? Krill couldn’t blame them.
Just as he was beginning to wonder if they would ever reach their destination, the man turned sharply moving towards one of the looming structures clad in snow and long jagged teeth of ice glittering in what little light was provided. A single glowing light glittered from the structure catching krill’s attention.
The captain let go of the animal’s leash, and the dog bounded up and into the little alcove before the door.
The human followed sluggishly kicking the snow from his boots as he reached the spot.
A gloved hand hammered on the door.
Krill couldn’t understand what the man expected to find, but then a door was thrown open allowing a burst of warm yellow light out into the darkness.
The dog rushed inwards, and the captain followed shedding snow as he went. The door closed behind them to reveal something Krill did not expect.
A completely furnished human den.
And at least three of the creatures warm, and well fed smiling from their places. The captain threw back the hood of his jacket smiling as a well-padded female human came forward and embraced him in a crushing human hug.
Through the glass, Krill’s translator was just able to pick up.
“MY BOY!”
The human hugged her back, as an older, grey male human shuffled over embracing them both.
The captain began struggling after a moment, “Alright, alright, it’s good to see you too.”
They backed away as the man shed his coat onto the floor releasing the specimen tube from behind. A sharp hiss marked the opening of the tube creating a wash of warm air over krill.
He looked up at the captain, “I don’t understand.”
Captain Vir grinned, “Krill family, family meet Krill.”
Off to the side the humans looked on in shock, curiosity and wariness.
“You mean.”      
Another grin, “Oh yeah, welcome to Earth, our home planet.”
 A planet where the winter rains ice, the summer breeds fire and every continent harbors death as a ward.
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huariqueje · 3 years
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Seasonal    -    Linden Frederick
American, b.1953-
Oil  on linen, 40 x 40 in.
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andypridee · 4 years
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Challenge 2; pt. 1 | The Calm
hey guys! so here’s part 1 of challenge 2. I know, I know but this totally got lost on Wednesday and it was a roller coaster to write but here it is, I’m finishing part 2 so I guess that will be up this afternoon. thank you so much @emery-wells, @lady-indiana and @nemesis-mess you guys are a delight! so I leave you with it.
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My days here have been more bipolar than mother during the holidays. There are mornings when I feel that everything is going to improve and that my time to act has arrived and before noon I begin to feel the impressive claustrophobic effect that this place has on me. Sierra you would not imagine. They are corridors full of royal gold trim, pristine whites, and rugs as red as the blood that runs through our veins. It inspires greatness and serenity but in my person it only inspires hypocrisy. Is all this necessary to express greatness? In my opinion, the most powerful greatness of a kingdom is seen in its inhabitants, not in a building for four people, with a hundred servants for the poor who cannot care for themselves even though they are the ones who must serve millions. Inside this place you forget that they are servants of the people and not the other way around.
I suppose it is much more complicated than what is seen with the naked eye, but it does not make me less angry. Although I must admit that I could not help but marvel at the beauty of these corridors. I found myself wandering around them one morning, lost, and with the notion of time completely exorbitant. Is awesome. I wish you could see for yourself. And the gardens. Oh Sierra, the gardens seem like something out of a fairy tale that Dad used to tell us when we were kids. Words are missing to describe how beautiful, green and pure they look. I am very sorry that you cannot walk alone there because there are always guards watching us wherever we go and the magic that houses the place disappears completely when there are more than one pair of eyes resting on you. That seems to be a constant in this place. Lack of privacy. We were talking about it the other day with Emery Wells. If you remember her, right? She's Sonage's girl. Anyways, I bumped into her in the hallways and we started talking. It turns out that she is a very interesting girl, really nothing I would have thought.
That day, I contracted myself looking out the window, trying to clear my mind of all the hustle and bustle of being in a place with 35 girls and a completely abstract prince of whatever was going on under his roof, or his mother's roof. to be more exact.
"How are you holding up with all this?" I heard someone ask me behind me, startling me a little. I turned my eyes and found that the question came from Lady Emery.
“Well, really scratching the insane. i hate being stuck in one place, how about you? you are Emery, right? I'm Andy ”I replied and smiled at him. Other than the conversation he'd had with Sara the morning of that fateful interview, he hadn't really interacted with anyone else in the few days he had been cloistered.
Yeah It's a lot more than I thought it would be. I knew it would be hectic but not this much. ”
“It isn't that .. it's just all so strange. like we live here but it doesn't feel very welcomely, you know what i mean? i don't know .. how has your stay been? woh wait i sounded a lot like arin there, didn`ti? ” I giggled a little and Emery joined me.
"You did. I get you, like everything just feels so foreign. ” She stopped for a second and began to whisper. "And i'm afraid to touch anything cause i think i'm gonna break it."
“Exactly, like you can just see but not touch. Everything here looks like a museum! I still think that someone's going to come by and tell me to not lay in some queen's bed. ”I laughed and shook my head a little, not believing this place.
"Oh my god, and the maids doing everything for you ... that's so strange. Like they are so sweet but I don't need help with everything ”
I giggled at his comment as I prominently nodded "yes! I'd like to keep my privacy, private. I guess that, like everything, we'll just get used to it, but I believe that I'm gonna get crazy in here. I need my social interactions with the outside world. ” I joked, relieved to find someone who understood what I was feeling.
"I'm gonna need to escape the palace sometime soon to just take a breath of fresh air." He also joked, although something in his tone of voice showed that part of that statement meant it.
“Count with me, I'll help you escaping and then I'll promise I'll show you my favorite spots in Angeles” i smirked, fully ready to embark on any adventure that might present itself in this place.
Saying this, Emery looked at me in surprise. "Really? Do you come to Angeles a lot? ”
Well, I've come a couple times for family events and so but I get so bored at those so I like to sneak and wander around. Have you come before? ”
She nodded. Yeah, I'm from Sonage so not too far. So we've come out just a couple times for my dad's company but that's about it. ”
"I loved traveling with my parents to Sonage when my siblings and I were little" I smiled and continued. “So you've never explored around Angeles?”
Emery shaked her head and curled her lips “not really no. I'd love to though! It seems like a beautiful area. ”
“It is, it's a bit too urban for my taste but it has the best places, you are just seeing a little bit. Where other places have you traveled? ”
“Traveling is all i do. Hawaii, Alaska, sometimes Paloma and Dominica. Any popular cruise ship destination I've been there. ” she said, laughing a bit.
Cruise ships? Why is that? Isn't that for elders and single people? ” I joke around a bit, unable to imagine Emery in a place like a cruise ship.
"Not all of them. My dad owns Costal Cruises so it's more of a family friendly one. ”
"Oh really? So you literally live in the boat? That's amazing, ”I smiled, impressed as Emery nodded. "What's your favorite destination?"
"I like Hawaii for the weather and Alaska for the views."
“I love Hawaii as well, I love those beaches and the sun, it's just like a paradise. I have been to Alaska but I stayed there in the middle of a snow storm so I couldn't get to see anything. ”
"Wow you sure do travel around," she commented, a little surprised.
“I love to travel, it's one of my favorite things to do. Discover new landscapes everyday, how can it not be perfect? what is your favorite thing to do? ”
Emery took a moment before answering. "I honestly don't know. I mean I like being around friends… ”
"How are your friends? Mine are the craziest guys I know ”I smiled as I remembered the pair of hollow heads I had left in my beautiful house.
"Oh. the weirdest group of people you'll ever meet. ” she said laughing.
"How come? they call you up in the middle of the night asking you if you have feelings? ” I joked, remembering a call from a certain person at two in the morning on an exam day.
"They probably would!"
"What's the craziest thing they've done?"
She took a moment, thinking. “Um, I'm not sure if this counts as crazy, but one time after curfew when all guests were in bed me and my friends Lacy, Cole, and Zach were running around the main deck and Cole decided he would steal one of the menu signs for buffet and when Lacy tried to stop him he picked her up and threw her in the pool and ran all the way to my room with me chasing after him screaming how my dad will kill me. ” continuous. "I made it of course and the sign is still in my room today."
"Wow! That's a wild one! and what did your dad do? ”
We continued talking for a while until the two of us retired to our rooms in an attempt that the wave of madness that the National Team supposed was not catching us yet. I confess that talking to Emery was the perfect remedy for the relaxation I'd been looking for before, and laughing with him was soothing in every sense of the word. Don't get me wrong, but being alone with my thoughts most of the day without interacting with anyone else was absolutely damning towards insanity.
I hope you and the rest of the family are having a better time. How has the hospital been? Linda and Michael already went crazy without me? And how are mom and dad?
I hope to see you again soon.
Until then and with lots of love and bear hugs,
Andy.
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Breakfasts were my little heavenly space of the day and pretty much what made me get out of bed. After going through the tortuous preparation of the day that almost always involved dresses, a crap ton of makeup and that my poor and rebellious hair was arranged in the most "pretty" way possible, I headed towards the large dining room where small bits of heaven. One of those days and if I was still in that place I had to sneak into the kitchen to steal the master secret of those delicacies.
After going through the breakfast buffet, I looked for my label and sat in my new position. The previous week they had eliminated several girls even though he had not crossed a word with any of them, which had caused that the breakfast positions had changed. I put my plate in front of my chair and sat down.
Having already eaten a good part of my breakfast I heard someone speak in my direction.
Hey! I'm Indie ”
Believing that Indie, apparently, was heading towards me, I raised my head, looking in his direction and smiled to see that he was greeting me.
"Oh hey! I'm Andie, well Andromeda but please ignore that. ”
The girl on the other side of Indie continued the conversation whom I recognized as Nemesis Lincer.
"How long have you been next to us?" she asked, confused as Indie looked at the two of us with a smile.
"I don't know" I laughed a little realizing that I hadn't even cared about that. “I don't know how they organize this kind of stuff around here. I just sit down and expect food. ”
"Girl, you are living your best life then." Indie replied, laughing a little. "I was just about Nemesis about the dates coming up. Are you guys excited? ”
So now it was part of the conversation. It didn't really bother me at all, Indie seemed like a very sweet girl and besides I was a complete fan of her films which in my opinion deserved a place in Louvre and Nemesis itself, despite its mysterious aura, it made me want to meet her Plus, it seemed like one of a kind and I'm always up for that.
"Not as much as I'm supposed to." Nemesis answered honestly with a shrug. “I'm not a big fan of dates but everyone is supposed to have one, right? Are you excited? ” she asked Indie and me too, apparently.
"You aren't excited at all? What in the world are you doing here, dear Mess? ” Indie answered with a playful smile. "But yes, I am excited. Actually, I'm terrified. ”
"Again trying to find out more than you should know," Nemesis replied to Indie with a funny smile.
Well, I agree with Nemesis. I'm not excited either, maybe intrigued but definitely not excited. I think that spending time with a long face for more than 15 minutes is just tired. ” I shrugged and added. "But only future will tell."
"At least the other girl knows what she's talking about." she said pointing with her head in my direction. "But I repeat it my problem is not just him, it's the whole idea of ​​being in a date." she smiled and then looked in Indie's direction. "Well Indie, I hope you get a great date."
Breakfast continued and a pleasant conversation with Indie and Nemesis, talking about our ideals of the date and in general of our stay here, what had happened and what the future had in store for us, each one with its style always seeing through . Finally, I believed that Indie was a very sweet but extremely interesting girl with a dazzling career. On the other hand, Nemesis, according to me, was easily the most intimidating and intoxicating person I had ever met. It made you want to keep talking to her but at the same time you were prepared to beg for mercy.
Anyways, all that was left to do is wait and hope that this doesn’t go down at maximum speed. at least. 
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blogtripcultr · 4 years
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THE DIVERSE PARADISES OF INDIA
India is the land of diversity and there is a whole lot of India yet to be discovered by the common Indian man. So why not get to know about our country has its own different paradises and consider going and then being awestruck for life? Here are some in dreamy places in India that you should definitely consider for your next expedition.
1. The valley of flower (Uttarakhand)
Or as I call the magical valley of flower is unreal in each and every sense. You will be mesmerized after being surrounded by exotic flowers that you might have never seen or thought of seeing. And the icing on the cake is the view of the snowcapped mountains from the luscious green meadows. You will not even feel like you are on earth at this place. One should definitely go for a trek at this world heritage site to capture its beauty.
2. Kodaikanal (Tamil Nadu)
This hill station in the south is the total depiction of how varied our mountains and weather is throughout the country. You will not believe that you are in the south of India and rather on top of some mountains surrounded amidst beautiful luscious forests. The best things about kodaikanal is the misty atmosphere, the Kodai lake and its boat rides, the sambar that is to die for and of course the rain that makes the place all the more beautiful.
3. Pahalgam (Kashmir valley)
Admits the great Himalayan range, located in the very own heaven of India, Kashmir, situates a small city called Pahalgam. Mostly known for activities like trekking, fishing, and camping, Pahalgam is everything you had imagined a scenery drawing to be like, in your childhood, with the Himalayan mountains covering it, with the Liddar river flowing near it, it feels like you are in a painting. It is also one of India’s only saffron growing areas. I can say that this place has been saved from being commercialized and one can enjoy this place with utter peace and solace and not see any chips wrappers or cola cans lying around disturbing the scenery.
4. Khajjar (Dalhousie)
One can consider this place as the Indian version of Switzerland. Khajjar is a must go place for anyone who is in Dalhousie. It is a small lush plateau with its own small lake and believe me or not it has its own NINE-HOLE-GOLF-COURSE in the middle of the breathtaking landscape, I mean it has ticked all the boxes for a place to be verified as a paradise. All the thrill seekers must be very excited to hear this as it has some adventurous activities like zorbing, trekking, horse riding and paragliding.
5. Port Blair (Andaman)
After talking about all the mountainous paradises, lets now talk about the most beautiful costal paradise, Port Blair. It is the heart of Andaman and offers you everything you for a fine getaway. Your time at the beaches will pass by in seconds and the sunsets are even more beautiful when you are looking at it from the vast beaches. All you can see is the vast sea and the bountiful horizon. The seafood is delicious, cheap and beautiful looking. The famous cellular jail is present over here too.
“Trust me, nature will never fail to surprise you.”
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angelakdivergent · 5 years
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As someone who has done much of my art work outdoors using the Scottish landscape and costal areas as my source of inspiration, it is important for me to keep doing this even with icebergs .The hills and rocky beaches that I visit frequently with my son have all been formed by glaciers I can connect to them in this way by looking at the texture of rocks , visiting the hills and taking in all that I see hear and feel .These are my photographs of my recent adventures and inspiration.
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Rewritten: The Royal Romance: Hello Cordonia (Part Four)
A/N: We are in Cordonia! Drake and Riley have their first fight and finally Hana, the true unsung talented queen of the TRR series makes an entrance. Also, on second reading of TRR, there’s a lot of really sexist chatter by the male characters about how awful all the women are to each other/ gold digging... They make you so worried about the women in court but they are all fabulous in their own ways... Definitely will have to come back to that at some point!
Summary: Riley drops her life in NYC and boards a plane to Cordonia with Drake and Maxwell. Arriving at the palace she feels very overwhelmed but manages to make a new friend in the process.
Choices Chapter: Book One, Chapter Two, First Half
Disclaimer: Characters and main storyline from Pixelberry’s Choices.
Word Count: 2570
Warnings: none
Hello Cordonia
The next hour or so was a whirlwind. I walked into Elliot’s with my head high. My manager turned around to shout at me for coming in the wrong entrance and being a couple minutes late but when he saw my carefree expression, he paled. I told him exactly what he could do with his sexist rants and disregard for his employees and then rushed home. I had no idea what to pack but I didn’t have time to worry about it, throwing random outfits into my bag. I grabbed anything sparkly or fancy I could find… I mean I was going to a Palace! My wardrobe nor I was truly prepared for this major life change. Just before the car sent for me pulled up outside, I left my key to my apartment on the table and texted my landlord, glad that I had decided to take out periodic tenancy. With that, I felt my ties to New York fall away and I felt free… if not just a bit petrified. 
When I got to the airport, my bags were taken for me and I was escorted through the airport. I skipped line after line and before I knew it I was standing on the runway beside a magnificent private jet. As I walked up the stairs, I let my hand run across the cold railing trying to take in everything. Yesterday, all I had to look forward to was a day off from a job I hated so I could sleep and do nothing. Today, I was boarding a private jet to travel into the unknown. It was terrifying. Yet, my overly anxious self finally let the excitement take over instead of fear. The cabin was stylish and like no airplane I had ever been on before. The chairs were the size of three economy style seats and large tables so clean you could see yourself in them were dotted around. Maxwell and Drake sat across from each other, sipping glasses of champagne. “Wow,” I said, not managing to contain my inner monologue. Maxwell jumped up, handing me a glass, “say goodbye to New York and helloooo to Cordonia!” I took the glass, feeling underdressed even for an airplane journey, “I can’t believe this is happening.” “Believe it,” Drake chimed in, downing his glass, “we’ll be there before you know it, ready or not. And if you’re not ready, those ladies at court are going to eat you alive.” “Don’t scare her Drake!” Maxwell scolding, gesturing for me to sit down with them. “You okay, Riley?” “Honestly… I’m terrified,” I said exhaling. “I knew it. She’s not gonna last a week. It’s a waste of time bringing her,” Drake bristled. Drake had obviously taken a strange dislike to me from the get go. He wasn’t happy that I was out with them the night before and he definitely wasn’t happy I was there with them now. I tried to brush aside his feelings about me… but for some reason I really wanted this grumpy, asshole to like me. He was obviously close with Liam. It wasn’t just the women I would need to win over in court. “I don’t get why you’re being so grim about this…” I said neutrally. “Look, no offense,” he said, his words dripping with offense, “but I’ve seen girls like you come and go. It never ends well. Not for you, not for Liam, not for the royal family.” “Riley’s not some crown-chaser, Drake” Maxwell fired back. I’d yet to see Maxwell look upset or angry about anything. He, so far, had always seemed so bubbly. It was nice to have him in my corner. It was time to fight my own battles and it seemed the only way to fight Drake was with a fire of my own. “Drake, to be fair you’re more my usual type. Down and out bad boy who have a strange superiority complex and like making other people feel bad,” I chided him. “Hah,” Drake rolled his eyes sarcastically. “I’m serious. I don’t usually mess around with rich boys, much less royalty. So you can keep your opinions to yourself until you actually know me,” I said never breaking his stare. Maxwell let out a low whistle, “well I think that’s enough for our pre-flight entertainment. How about we get this plane in the air and play some card games to pass the time!”
A while later, the pilot announced the plane’s descent. “Look,” Maxwell said to me pointing out the window. “You can see Cordonia out the window. You won’t want to miss this, Riley.” I peered out the window and saw one of the most beautiful costal cities I had ever seen. Small buildings scattered the landscape down to docks where extravagant yachts and ships were moored. The sea was a fantastic blue, so clear I felt like I could see all the way to the depths into the sand where the fish hide. So used to cities with unapologetic concrete structures stealing as much of the landscape as they could and the New York grids, I instead could make out the winding roads of this city leading to so many unexpected parks, plazas and market stalls. A maze I couldn’t wait to be inside. The lights of the city were soft and seemed to be united into one pattern instead of different obtrusive flashes fighting one another demanding my attention On the top of a hill overlooking the whole city was a gleaming palace with a garden so splendid in colour I could almost smell the flowers from my seat on the plane. “This is Cordonia?” I smiled despite myself. “It’s like something out of a fairy tale… The sparking ocean, the swaying trees…” “If you burst into song, I’m jumping out the plane,” Drake said behind me but I felt like I could hear an almost smile in his voice. “I’m just saying it’s beautiful,” I shook my head not being able to believe my luck. “It is, isn’t it… Are you ready?” Maxwell gave me a reassuring smile. “Ready as I will ever be!” I exclaimed.
We rode in a black car with tinted windows up the long pathway through the grounds of the palace. Fountains sprayed water high into the clear blue sky and flowers of all colours burst from ground to meet us. “Welcome to your home for the next few months, Riley,” Maxwell said. The castle itself was extravagant with gold trims and ancient carvings built into the exterior. “This is where I’m staying? I didn’t realise I’d be living in the palace,” I said, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. My apartment was probably half the size of a singular room in this spectacular building. I had done nothing to deserve this type of, literally, royal treatment. “Most of the nobility live here while the social season is underway, including all the ladies vying for Liam’s hand,” Maxwell explained. “Yeah, living under one roof just makes it easier to attend the rose ceremony later,” Drake joked, giving away a little too much about his reality TV watching habits. Maxwell rolled his eyes as the car stopped outside the grand doors, “Drake’s just kidding… at least about the roses. Anyway, I’ll show you to your room!” Maxwell hopped out the car and held the door for me. Palace staff appeared out of nowhere to take my bags and bowed to me before heading inside. “This is my cue to take off,” Drake said getting out of the car and looking at me once more. “See you around… if you’re lucky.” I watched him as he walked away. I scrunched up my nose as I tried to figure out what his game was. I was so convinced he just had a natural dislike for me but as the plane journey had gone on, it seemed that he was almost testing me, trying to see how far he could push me before I snapped. I wondered if I was only a social experiment to him, a play thing that I was sure he would get bored of quickly. Through the doors to the castle, I was immediately greeted by more splendour and a staircase with a blushing red carpet that would rival any images of castles or mansions I had seen. The baluster was a dark wood elegantly carved. The walls were covered in portraits of the royal family and landscapes of the Cordonian countryside. I followed Maxwell slowly up the stairs. “So what’s the deal with Drake,” I asked Maxwell, wanting to enjoy my incredible surroundings but not being able to get Drake’s behaviour out of my head. “Why is he so… angry?” “Oh don’t mind him. Drake’s never really… fit in,” Maxwell said carefully. “Not used to courtly life?” I asked. “Definitely not,” he said in a matter of fact tone. “He’s a commoner. He’s always been an outsider here. Even if he is Liam’s best friend…” I wanted to know more but knew better than to pry. I let the conversation drop as Maxwell led me down corridor after corridor. There was no way I was ever going to find my way around this place with it’s suit of armour lined, high ceilinged halls. “Your room is here in the west wing. In case you need anything from me or my brother, our rooms are just a couple doors away,” he said reassuring me yet again. “I didn’t know you had a brother?” “Yeah, an older brother. His official title is Duke Bertrand Beaumont. As the eldest son, he’s the heir and I’m the spare. You’ll see him tonight. He’ll be excited to meet you,” Maxwell smiled elbowing me. I couldn’t imagine another Maxwell! So bubbly and supportive even with people he barely knew. This was a case of two had to be even better than just the one! “I’m really looking forward to meet him,” I said with full honesty. Maxwell stops short in front of an ornate door, “this is it! Here’s your room!” As we entered, I realised I needed to learn to stop my jaw automatically dropping open when I saw the splendour that was presented before me. The lavish guest room had one of the largest beds I’d ever seen, with huge detailed throws and filled with fluffy pillows. There were full length paintings, gilded ceilings and mirrors that made me feel like Alice lived here and could fall into the looking glasses. “Wow.” “As a guest, you are spared no luxury,” Maxwell smiled looking at my face. I must have looked like a young child in their first candy shop, “so there’s nothing stopping me from jumping on the bed? From raiding the mini bar?” “There’s no mini bar, but the staff here,” Maxwell gestured to the man placing my very small suitcase in the room, “will get you anything you’d like.” “Sweeeet!” I yelled, letting myself go and throwing myself backwards onto the bed. I felt my body sink into the sheets. They were soft as silk and I immediately felt like I could have drifted off into the best sleep I had ever had. Maxwell laughed, “I’ll let you settle in before your big debut tonight…” I sat up abruptly, “my what?” “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting that you’re not used to this. The first event of the social season is tonight, The Masquerade,” Maxwell made jazz hands. “It’s the ball where all the suitors will be presented to the Prince, as well as to the King. Not everyone dresses in costume… but you might need to have a think about it…” Maxwell glances doubtfully at my modest suitcase. “I’m guessing it’s unlikely you’ve got a costume or a fancy ball gown in there.” I gulped, “nope not gonna have that.” “There’s a seamstress who frequents the palace before social events to aid the ladies with any last-minute fixes to dresses. She’ll be downstairs, you should find her and ask if she has any spare dresses in your size,” Maxwell said. “Thank you, Maxwell. This is all very overwhelming but you are being so helpful,” I half smiled. “Remember. Tonight is very important. It’s your chance to make a first impression on all the influential people at court and to stand apart from everyone else!” he stated. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this,” I said more confidently, standing up and straightening my posture.
It took me a while, but I finally managed to follow Maxwell’s directions down through the castle to the room that was temporarily being used as the women’s make-up and wardrobe space for the social season. As I stepped inside I heard a gasp. The gasp came from a gorgeous woman in the back corner of the room, dressed only in her bra and knickers. I immediately went beetroot as she moved the dress she was holding to cover herself. “Sorry! So sorry,” I said. Damn it, Riley! What did Maxwell just say about making a good impression?! “I didn’t realise someone was already here…” I continued rambling. The woman laughed, her laughter was the type that was infectious and I felt a cool relief wash over my embarrassment, “No problem. I should have put up a sign or something!” Still holding the dress to her near-naked body, she approached me, each step as dainty as the next, extending her hand, “I’m Hana. I suppose you’re also here to prepare for the Masquerade.” I shook her hand. “You’re just like me… searching desperately at last minute for something to wear!” I had been warned of vicious women who took no prisoners. Hana seemed competent and caring, rather than someone who would shiv me with a stiletto. “More or less,” I replied, not wanting to give away too much in case I was reading her wrong. “Just let me slip my dress on and I can show you around. The seamstress has already left for the day,” Hana said. I turned around so that she could dress. I could hear her struggling with the zipper. “Do you need a hand?” I asked, still staring at the door. “That would be amazing,” she giggled. I helped slide the zipper up her dress, that suited her petit and slim body shape perfectly. She picked up a matching mask, securing it in pace and then tossed herself a daring look in the mirror. She turned to me, grinning, “Thank you. Not many people in court are like you...” “Helpful?” I asked. “Nice,” she said, a steady smile on her face. “Ah this dress is perfect!” Hana spins, showing off her skirt in full twirl for me. “Now, what about you? Let’s find you a dress!” It only took Hana a moment to find me a stunning, long, white ball gown with cold shoulder sleeves and sexy slit up the side of my leg. It was everything I needed to look at myself and feel transformed into the princess I wanted to be. It covered all those bumps I did not like, was the perfect length and showed off all the parts of my body I loved. Hana secured a stunning silver masquerade mask to my face and I truly looked the part of pauper become princess. “You look wonderful,” she smiled admiring her handy work. “You did a wonderful job!” I responded, glad I had somehow already made a friend in this strange place.
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coolcancunyachts · 3 years
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Hotels In Playa Del Carmen With Best Hotel Facilities
Hotels In Playa Del Carmen, named as Mayan Riviera, are originally titled Cancun Yacht Rentals - Tulum corridor. This particular spot has become well known to vacationers due to the large scales of all comprehensive vacation rentals. It houses a lot of smaller famous boutique lodges. They've improving deluxe villas to supply their own vacationers. They also have yacht charters which symbolize their tourism accommodation. Riviera Maya's crucial sites are ocean and seaside water adventures. Such water fun-filled activities are determined by the Mesoamerican Filter Ocean System and even costal water tides.
This really is one all inclusive lodge in Riviera Maya, Puerto Morelos. It is just 20 min far from the Cancun Air-port and is actually specifically placed over the seaside. The lodge has six dining places inside, the full facility health spa facility, 4 pools as well as a fitness center. Room designs and even suites are extremely roomy. They've innovative and restful styles present near the seashore. The shape of the lodge is like four horseshoes. Their almost all inclusive deal includes a junior suite utilizing balcony and also rooftop, total in packages services along with mini-bar as well as magnifying mirror. There is also full all dishes daily smorgasbord in breakfast and lunch time, smorgasbord or the la Carte for meal.
The 6 eateries include 3 A la Carte bistros. You will find five bars at the entrance hall bar and even pool and also swim up bar. Liquids and even snacks can be found 24 hours. Mini-bar is actually restocked together with soda pops and even alcohol. Nationwide and even international liquids are limitless. Coffee is also unlimited. Swimming pools are liberal to make use of anytime, as well as 2 tennis games courts, exercise spa and even facility. Also take benefit from free of charge dance lessons, daily activity applications, nightly amusement and also non-motor-driven water sports.
This is one all inclusive lodge specific in order to adults. This is certainly located in Yucatan Peninsula, 15 kilometers from the southern of Cancun. This is the best place for mature visitor. They have suites overlooking the sea or even exotic landscapes. You can even view the very clear pools and even white sand beaches. Secret Silver Sands offer spectacular dining with serene as well as restful surroundings. They have a complete of 433 superb innovative suites primarily gives marine view to the vacationers in order to unwind and even replenishing.
Their pool spot is now over 43,000 feet square as well as they have extensive beautiful gardens. They also have accessible drink in the swimming bar as well as infinity pool. They've world class health spa that offers equally outdoor and also inside remedies. They've both fitness center and also Jacuzzi for spoiling and even indulgence.
Visit Us:https://cancunyachts.com
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shemakesmusic-uk · 3 years
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Everyone needs to have Maja Kristina on their radar immediately. She is an incredible artist that is straight out of our pop dreams. Her whole self-titled EP is absolute perfection. Maja has released the song ‘Jessica’ off her EP as a single, and she couldn’t have made a better pick. ‘Jessica’ is a new take on a breakup song that we hope to see much more of. It’s written with the mindset that the person that cheated is at fault, not the person they cheated with. That is the mindset everyone needs to have! Maja sings, “Cause she seems really nice, and I think in the end, Me and Jessica could be friends.” We love to see women lifting up other women, instead of adding to the teardown. It’s a breath of fresh air. Normalize shaming cheaters, but not other manipulated women. [via The Honey Pop]
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Lucia & The Best Boys have shared a new video for ‘Forever Forget’. It’s a cut from the band’s recent EP The State Of Things, it arrives alongside the news that their upcoming support tour with Dream Wife has moved back to 2022. Speaking about the video, director Rianne White says: “'Forever Forget' is a landscape of a feeling. Lucia and I wanted to create a piece of choreography that exists in a solo otherworldly space shaken up by an unsettling sensation of feeling trapped. Guarded by multiple camera perspectives, this movement sequence is shattered like a mirror into pieces and dominated by a blinding sensation of overwhelm, refracting the internal electricity of the brain into view. This video is a portrait of inner turbulence, liberated by Lucia’s untamed and magnetic expression of self. Frontwoman Lucia Fairfull adds: “The 'Forever Forget' video concept has kept completely true to the meaning of the song, 'Baby you've taken me to higher places. It hurts if it's just in my head', is the first lyrics of the chorus. The video portrays this with an other-worldly head trapped space, along with the choreography expressing a state of wanting to escape your own mind and thoughts. The lyrics throughout speak directly about wishing you still had what you once did, but having to face the reality that it is no more, and then trying to erase the memories from your head and move on. Making videos has always been one of my favourite parts about being an artist and over the last year I’ve really detached myself from the idea that I need to be perceived in a certain way and have enjoyed being more adventurous with Visuals. I have imagery almost as soon as I’ve written a song so bringing it to life, and creating different characters to go with them is something I really feel helps to get across what I'm saying. I couldn't have brought these ideas to life ('Perfectly Untrue' & 'Forever Forget') without Rianne and Furmaan, and can’t wait to make more with them.” [via Dork]
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Foxes has returned with news of her forthcoming EP Friends In The Corner, alongside sharing new cut 'Kathleen' to accompany the announcement. 'Kathleen' is Foxes' first release of 2021, and follows December's 'Hollywood', which will appear on her upcoming EP alongside last year's 'Friends In The Corner', 'Love Not Loving You' and 'Woman' singles. The new track is produced by Courage (Stormzy, MNEK, Ray BLK) and Charlie Hugall (Halsey, Florence and the Machine), and is an ode to her grandmother Kathleen. Foxes, real name Louisa Rose Allen, says of the single, "My grandma, Kathleen, has always given really good advice so on one visit I thought, ‘why am I not recording this?’. A couple of weeks later in the studio I happened to be going through my voice notes of random melodies and lyrics I’d saved and stumbled across her words of wisdom and within 20 minutes we’d written it with all her advice from the notes. I kept that exact recording of her talking at the end of the song. I don't think I’d be a songwriter without her." She adds, "For me, 'Kathleen' closes the chapter of the last year. Focussing on creativity during lockdown has been essential for me – it’s given me so much strength and positivity. Almost without realising, I ended up writing a whole new album. The new songs have a really different energy and need to exist together as a record. But first I need to release 'Kathleen' as it’s such a special song for me and just seems so right for now. It felt right to wrap these songs up together as an EP before the new album gets released later this year." [via Line Of Best Fit]
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The Sydney-based three-piece Middle Kids release the cinematic title track and video from their hotly anticipated second album, Today We’re The Greatest, out now via Lucky Number One. 'Today We’re The Greatest' features a heartachingly beautiful performance from lead singer Hannah Joy and showcases the juxtaposition of her compelling songwriting. The grandiose and romantic notion of the song’s title is offset by the repeated refrain “life is gory and boring sometimes” which both closes the song and also the album – reveling equally in the good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. About the song, Hannah explains: “This is a simple song of people being TINY and our lives being FLEETING but in that we are EPIC and GREAT. It’s finding the beauty and majesty of the every day. Therein lies life and meaning. LIFE IS GORY AND BORING SOMETIMES: it’s both hectic and mundane and we have to accept both.” 'Today We’re The Greatest' is accompanied by a stunning music video directed by W.A.M. Bleakley and filmed on the Kiama costal path in Australia.
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Pacific Northwest native pop singer ALITA has released her new music video 'I’m Not Your Mother'. The video is a 50's inspired homage to empowerment and subverting antiquated gender roles. It was co-produced by ALITA & Zach Nicita (VERITE, Anne Marie, MS MR), and co-written by ALITA & Grammy-award-winning songwriter Jesse Saint John (Lizzo - Truth Hurts). “I wanted to create a visual world that put the song into a little more context," exlplains ALITA. "The song has a lot of classic & almost retro influences, from the old movie voices of women to the genre-blending pop, r&b, soul production. I wrote, ‘I’m Not Your Mother’ as a reflection on my own relationships, but I also know how shared of an experience this is for so many women. I see it every day in my friends' relationships, in my own family dynamics, in media. It’s constant. So we pulled in moments from old movies & tried to sprinkle in some history into the song as well. For the video, I wanted to honor the sonic storytelling with an exploration of the modern and classic roles women play. I wanted it to be a little weird & left of center, so there’s a lot of strange Easter eggs throughout the video. We’ve evolved as a species over the years, thank God, but instead of women being expected to be a homemaker, for example, there’s still this expectation for women to take care of and take responsibility for the men in our lives. It just may look a little different than it did 50 years ago. The application has changed, but the subtleties and impact remain. My goal was to tip my hat to that in the video, and just make something that looked nice.”
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Glüme's Instagram bio reads "Walmart Marilyn," offering a succint intro to the LA-based artist's DIY approach to old school Hollywood glamor. She recently signed to Italians Do It Better, making her label mates with Chromatics and Glass Candy with whom she shares a penchant for bittersweet and melodic synth-pop, the perfect backdrop for a struggling ingénue. This week she debuts 'What Is A Feeling,' taken from her forthcoming debut album The Internet, due next month. 'What Is A Feeling' was written after Glüme, who has the rare heart condition Prinzmetal angina, was informed that her emotional health was starting to affect her physical condition. Over a chugging bassline and drum claps she questions the very make-up of her existence, asking questions including "What makes me work?" and "What makes me hurt?" Not even a doctor's orders can keep her away from temptation though, with the chaos of conflicting feelings tied up tight in the song's restrictive confines. “I had a doctor once tell me my feelings were doing my heart more harm than good," Glüme says via email. "I left wanting to completely disassemble my emotions and throw them in the trash. I studied emotions from physical and philosophical perspectives to see if I could outsmart them. But feeling less wasn't an option.” The Internet is out on April 30 via Italians Do It Better. [via The FADER]
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Singer, songwriter, and producer ZAND is known for their uniquely brash brand of self-described ugly pop, and the iconic look that accompanies it is almost as distinctive. New single 'Bald Bitch' is ZAND’s most compelling earworm yet, its crunchy synthesised bassline driving beneath Blackpool accented pseudo-rap and the buzz of an electric razor. It’s the fourth and final cut to be lifted from last year’s Ugly Pop EP. ZAND isn’t afraid of controversial subject matter, with previous singles tackling topics such as misogyny and the stigma of sex work. 'Bald Bitch' is no exception to this trend, with ZAND squaring up to and superficial detractor chosing to comment on their appearance. 'Bald Bitch' is the next installment in the story of an artist who refuses to cow to convention. [via Line Of Best Fit]
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Korean-American musician Jessi says she hopes her new song ‘What Type of X’ will inspire listeners to be “more confident”. The singer-rapper noted that “the most crucial thing” for her is self-love and how important it was for ‘What Type Of X’ to reflect that. “I am a woman of strong mentality and for me, loving myself is the most crucial thing. If you do not love yourself, nobody will do so. On top of that, you have to be surrounded by people who give off positive vibes,” she said. “Through the song, I want to tell people to be more confident and hope they remember that being different is not wrong.” Jessi co-wrote ‘What Type of X’ with Psy, who is the head of her agency P Nation. Psy. She shared that the lyrics were originally written in English before Psy helped to translate them, adding that the duo “did not argue as much as we did in the past while working together”. The singer also noted that, compared to her previous releases, she did not have as much time to prepare for this comeback. Calling herself a “perfectionist”, Jessi added that she feels like she is not fully ready to perform the song on stage yet, although she says she’s “quite content with the single’s quality”. [via NME]
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Newcastle-based trio Cat Ryan have shared the official video for their latest indie-pop stunner ‘Mary Shelley Song’. The band has this to say on the clip: “Our film student friends, Briana and Gabi offered to film a music video for us and it was the first opportunity we’d had to film a professional kind of video. The first thought I had was to have a film noir style video. I think Lucas came up with a loose storyline and the idea to have it in reverse. We all quite liked the idea of a murder plot and with some tweaking of the narrative and, with the help of Briana and Gabi, the ideas came to life.”
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