#i.....always ask what Meat is being offered to me cause i dont eat most meats for religious/personal reasons dfhyfyjhvghygbh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bonecorn · 3 years

Note

I love your anatomy/references posts & I love skulls and skeletons & I would love to know how you convince people to give you their animal heads to clean. Also any bone cleaning tips for suburban areas?? When I was living on a farm it was easy to leave stuff out and let the bugs take care of it but my parents said hard no to dead things bleaching on the porch

Oh this is very easy!

Find a friend or acquaintance with land and leave your stuff there. Bug cleaning and tub maceration don't need a lot of hands-on attendance so you can check in however often you like.

There's also "hot water maceration" where you simmer (dont boil!) fresh heads in hot water and remove the cooked meat by hand. Make sure you scramble the brains first and then cook away inside or with a camping stove on the porch. And "bleaching" which is done with hydrogen peroxide can be done inside since the skulls are already clean by then anyway.

I don't actually convince people to give me their pets. For livestock, I ask because most people aren't emotionally attached to their livestock.

For pets, I wait to be offered the remains. More on that under the cut.

TLDR: Know the pet owner, wait to be offered bodies rather than asking. Make sure they are always in control. Ask for livestock no problem. Don't let scavengers eat euthanized meat.

holy crap lol

I don't ask for pet bodies. The trick is to be very open and excited about what you do so that people who know you know about bones and know that you are respectful of animal remains. Then, when a beloved pet dies, they might think about you.

Open up the conversation on death before it's relevant

You can also plant the seed ahead of time during a conversation about bones while the pet in question is alive and healthy. "Sometimes I do pets if their owner is ok with it, though most want to bury. Have you ever thought about that for Baxter?" It's in SUPER poor taste to do this while an animal is dying, when you'll need to be way more tactful.

Know your friend well enough to guess their feelings on it

It SUPER depends on the person and how they view bodies and death. My ex's dog passed away and he was always queasy about corpses. I comforted him and cried with him while his beloved 15 year old dog declined and passed. I didn't ask or even mention it because I knew him enough to know that he would say no, and that asking would be painful and upsetting for him to think about. Same with my dear friend and her 20 year old cat. She had a beautiful pet graveyard with headstones and everything. You just know not to ask some people because traditionally laying bodies to rest is important to them.

Other pet owners are chill about it, ESPECIALLY if they come from a livestock background. Livestock people are used to sending their animals to be recycled into glue and wax when they die, because it's generally not feasible to bury or cremate a horse. If someone does plan to take that on, you know they are absolutely dedicated to traditional burial and won't give you anything.

Make it their choice to offer, rather than it being your request

Anyway. If you know the person, and you know they might be ok with giving up their pet's body due to how they view bodies and death, then you work on making them think about you. First, you comfort and do everything you can to help the person through their grief. If you weren't already planning on doing that, then you have no business asking for their pet. Do not comfort someone in order to get something out of them. That's disgusting. Just straight up ask them for their pet and know that they will view you as tactless and rude, but its better than manipulating them.

What I do is not manipulation, it's reminding people what you do and then letting them make their own decisions. When your friend is feeling a little better and is not crying, you can ask about logistics. I ask "What do you plan to do for burial/with the body?" and that usually makes them think about me and what I do with bodies. If they already have a meaningful spot picked out to bury or scatter/keep ashes, then that means the body is important to them and I shouldn't ask further.

At this point, they should realize what you could use the body for and think about how they feel about that. This is when my sister (who has a livestock background) offered her dog to me. We talked about how she thought of bodies, and she thought that the soul is the only thing that matters and once her dog passes there's nothing important left. I did not say anything to convince her, these were all her own thoughts.

It's very VERY important to respect and love the pet owner because they're extremely vulnerable and emotionally raw. That's why I don't straight up ask, because when you're losing a pet, you don't want to feel like someone is trying to gain something from you.

If your friend says they don't know or haven't decided what to do for the body, you can gently say "Let me know if you want me to help bury it, to take it with me, or to just be there for you." This is a close-ended statement and not a question. A question means that your friend has to come up with an answer right there and then, while an offer is actionable. This puts the power and autonomy in your friend's hands, so that when they make a decision it comes fully from their wants and needs and is not about you and what you want.

Be there for them even if you get nothing out of it

If they don't offer at this point, they're not going to. Now hold up your end of the bargain and continue to comfort and help through the grieving process. Again, if you aren't already invested in this person enough to want to soothe and comfort and be there for the human person in the equation, then you have no business asking for their pet. When a pet dies, your first concern should be to the person. If it's not, then you aren't close enough to ask for goodies.

Helping someone grieve is not payment for their pet's body. If you realize they aren't going to give you something in return for your comfort and so you abandon them, you're a terrible person using their grief to manipulate them for your own gain. Comfort is not payment. Closeness in grief is a metric by which you measure "Do I have any business to ask?"

The pet owner runs the show, not you

Throughout this process, stress that the owner can change their mind at any time. You don't want the owner to think "I hate this but I can't back out now because I promised..." Even when they animal is all wrapped up an in your vehicle and ready to go, quietly tell the owner that they can still choose what happens and if they have second thoughts, that's ok and you won't be mad.

My sister let me be there for putting her dog down and it was all about her and her love for her dog. She carried him out and laid him in my trunk and we stood in the rain and talked and hugged. She then told me she was happy that he could bring happiness to someone in life and now still in death, but that she didn't want to know anything. I agreed not to tell her or post anything about processing her dog, so for her it would be like burial. The same thing happened with my other friend's horse. She spent some time with him and then as soon as he passed she drove away and let me do what I wanted. She didn't want to hear Any of it. Again, I didn't ask or even offer, she came up with the idea of giving me the body all on her own even before I knew he was dying.

Horse people are much closer to pet owners than livestock owners, but they are used to sending their friend's bodies off to a different kind of processing (at Tallow factories, livestock remains are ground up, cut apart, cooked, and spun around to extract various substances that become soap, glue, candles, etc) so they know not to think about what happens after death. It still depends on how well you know the owner and know how they think about death, but if you offer to handle logistics like dealing with the tallow guy, they can actually save money by letting you have it.

You're actually doing livestock a favor

Livestock people are generally chill and have a much more utility/asset view of their animals. If the animal doesn't even have a name they probably don't care what happens when it's dead. In fact, most farmers will jump at the chance to give you their animal for free because calling the tallow company to haul it away costs them money. This is also why in areas with lots of livestock, you sometimes find bodies dumped in ditches or left on the side of the road, because the farmer didn't want to pay to get rid of it so they made it everyone else's problem. Even pet animals like dogs and cats are more Utility than pure companions on a farm, so you might have a better chance of getting remains from a farmer than a neighbor.

One more thing about pets and livestock.

When I find a dead deer, I flay it open and let the vultures eat it. For domestic animals, they are often put to sleep via chemical/drug.

THIS IS POISONOUS TO SCAVENGERS.

DO NOT LET SCAVENGERS EAT EUTHANIZED ANIMALS

Seriously. If you like nature, you need to protect it. Deflesh it yourself, throw all the meat/blood/offal away or bury it 6 feet down. Idk what it does to the environment so I always freeze it and then throw it away on garbage day.

Rot bacteria and beetle larvae dermestids don't mind. In fact, dermestid droppings and pupa shells can be analyzed for toxins by forensic scientists to determine cause of death. Neat! Just make sure that if you process outdoors, the remains are EXTREMELY SECURE and cannot be opened by vultures, coyotes, or wild pigs.

Remember the living, human person

I know I look very clinical by picking apart human emotions, but I respond, feel, love, and grieve just like everyone else. I didn't plan how to get any of the animals in the above stories, I just acted on instinct and these are the ones where that paid off well.

Most of the time if I go "huh. I feel that may not go over well" I can then take that feeling apart and figure out why. So hopefully explaining how my feelings work it can help you listen to your most useful and most compassionate ones.

The living person is always more important than a dead pet. Sometimes you can get the dead pet without distressing your friend, sometimes you shouldn't even try.

Respecting the dead

A final note on working with pets vs wild animals. This is someone's family member, so don't play puppet with it like you might with a skunk skin. Don't take pictures of any part of the process until they are rendered to bones. Pictures of dead pet species are even more distressing to the general public than wild animals, and sick freaks might take your photos and send them to people for kicks or attention. Better to just not have photos than for that to happen.

What processing a pet feels like

Working on a pet is always going to be different for you, the vulture, than a wild animal. Everything you see is touched by human hands. My sister's dog was... beautiful. You don't really realize how moved you're going to be by seeing the perfect amount of healthy fat covering, or beautiful muscles that speak of exercise and attention. She rescued this starving pup and turned him into the healthiest animal I have ever seen. She's a vet assistant and the care and love she put into this dog had me sitting there crying while I held his paws; with their perfectly maintained clipped and sanded nails. I'd only met the dog once for a few minutes when he was alive, but his body was a canvas and every inch was painted with layers and layers of love. It made me so, so sad that his neurological issues couldn't be helped because his body was proof of someone who would stop at nothing to cure what could be cured, and that the last months of his life were happier than he ever imagined.

On the flip side, pets whose bodies show signs of neglect and abuse are going to hit you harder than any deer could. The dog I found discarded in a garbage bag on the side of the road had rotten teeth and nails so long they curled over themselves into hoops. An overgrown and suffering deer is just the sign of nature taking its course. An overgrown and suffering dog is the sign of human cruelty, of shirked responsibility.

Most pets you get will between these two dogs. No owner is perfect. Most old dogs have lost teeth to rot, sick cats too weak to scratch properly may have overgrown nails.

Death as beauty

A pet's body usually a beautiful story full of ups and downs; of owners doing things wrong and then doing things right. A vulture or an artist can read a body like rings on a tree and feel the heart beat in their chest that tells them how strong and full of love this life had been. You need to be ready for this part. Every detail is a message from your fellow human and even though we are all animals and we decompose into the same dirt, we're meant to connect to each other here and now.

Keep your emotions open when working with remains.

Listen to what they have to teach you.

31 notes · View notes

thetriggeredhappy · 3 years

Text

yo whats good @engiespyweek this is a day late but like dont worry abt it

day 2: hurt / comfort

(warnings for injury, specifically from burns. takes place around Robots Time)

Back before the robots, they were expected to work regular hours. Normal days. Practically a nine-to-five, plus a couple of hours most days, but never too long after sundown—and unless they had a mission off-base, they’d get weekends off. It was the most organized war any of them had ever been a part of, to be honest. And it was taxing, sure, the pain and bloodshed, but at least according to Scout it still beat working in food service.

And it wasn’t even all that scary half the time—before the robots, the team was invincible in most senses of the word. It would take some extremely particular situations to kill them, situations they were rarely anywhere near. A doctor on staff, bars in town and a full liquor cabinet on base, a pay grade that few of them even dreamed of, it was a good place to be in their lives. They considered themselves lucky, most days.

But that was before the robots.

The sun was setting over wherever the hell they were. They were going on their second day here, which was usually about how long they spent in one place before they had to move again, following some fickle change of the wind to intercept the next few waves of automatons.

They were exhausted. They didn’t have breaks, truth be told, and only sometimes got to sleep—mostly on the drive to their next destination, sometimes woken up during the night by the distant metallic clanging that functioned as the trumpets of war. Modern era, and all.

Medic was truly running on his last legs. He half operated his infirmary out of the back of one of the trucks they used to transport their equipment, not seeing reason to bother unpacking most days. Soldier was in a tizzy himself, constantly checking and rechecking their supplies, inventory being the only job left out of the multitude he’d had on base before and therefore being one he did near-constantly, and his consensus seemed to be that they were running low on... well, everything. Raiding abandoned warehouses for ammunition and guns just wasn’t cutting it anymore. They’d started to send some of the mercs out hunting for scrap metal when they had the time, and the Engineer was left to work practically around the clock trying to feed it to dispensers and restock to have at least enough to be prepared for battle, and Heavy tended to take over when he absolutely needed to sleep.

But then there were the mercenaries who didn’t have much to do but sit and stew. Sniper mostly took to perching alone somewhere he could watch for the distant dust clouds kicked up by the tanks. Scout ran laps around the perimeter of wherever they were posted up, and on a couple of occasions the two of them were the only warning the team got before the robots showed up. Pyro fretted, for the most part, would sweep by the busy members of the team with something to eat and a supportive pat on the arm. But even then, it was obvious the rest were going stir-crazy. Wanted to help, to take some of the weight back, to help share the load if they could.

This was about the only way Spy could help.

Engineer was having trouble keeping his eyes open, but the fatigue fought against his need to eat the tin full of... something. Meat, some kind of sauce. Spy had cooked it, since they apparently had a stove squirreled away somewhere in this particular warehouse, rations, and the team needed something ‘real’ to eat by his measure. The Engineer managed to keep awake, keep shoveling food into his mouth. Distantly, he understood that it tasted very good, and it overcame the nausea he’d been increasingly plagued with ever since all of this started.

The food was one comfort. The warm weight of Spy leaned against his back was another, the man leaned against him as he ate. Outside there was a particularly vibrant sunset happening, that was a third one, the way the light poured through the window briefly driving away a sort of bone-deep paranoia about darkness. About fear. Apparently that was one reason his father always tried to work with the big garage door of the shop open—being in the sun from time to time was important for all types of health. Or, as Spy put it, he needed to get out of his terrible little machinery lair from time to time or else one day the team would find he’d begun transforming into some sort of mole man.

It made him laugh. He missed laughing, he realized.

Once he had some food in his system, some calm, some time to sit in a position other than bent over a drafting table—and, hell, maybe the sun helped too—he started feeling remarkably more like a human being, started relaxing in increments. Started noticing little things. Dust mites lingering in the last light up above their heads. Distant talking, the distinctive laugh of Demo, Soldier barking something in reply. The sound of Spy taking a pull from his cigarette, quiet enough that he’d only really hear it this close. Quiet motion, like fiddling almost, which struck him as odd. Spy wasn’t much for fiddling and fidgeting. Broad, sweeping, dramatic gestures, those he did every time he got a good excuse—but not fidgeting. It was enough to draw his head up from where it was hanging, casting eyes back over his shoulder.

Spy wasn’t looking at him, apparently focused. “What’re you up to, there?” he asked, suddenly made aware of how rough his throat was. Probably from the near-constant full-volume shouting followed by stretches of silence he got up to these days.

“Simple first aid,” Spy said entirely too casually. So casually, in fact, that it took the Engineer a few seconds to realize what he’d even said.

“What?” he asked, turning more fully to look at Spy, at which point he blanched.

Spy had shed his jacket and rolled his sleeves up neatly a short way past his elbows and taken off his gloves and watch, and appeared to be almost done cleaning up and bandaging his left arm, having not started yet on the right one. All up and down his visible skin, and in particular across his palms and wrist, there were a series of mild to severe burns, speckles of dark red and black patching up his forearms, and the Engineer could immediately identify them as being electrical burns, not heat ones.

“How the hell did that happen?” he asked, deeply startled.

A huff of a laugh from Spy. “Mon ami, I go onto the battlefield and am expected to attack mechanical men with a metal blade,” he said, a note of amusement in his voice. “Electrocution is par for the course, I’m afraid.”

“You really oughta... find some way around that,” the Engineer said carefully. “Rubber hilt, or...”

“Most often I can only even tell I’ve caused enough damage to take down any given robot when the shock happens,” Spy shrugged. “It is not terribly painful, especially compared to gunfire. They simply begin to stack up after a while.”

A careful nod from the Engineer, even if it didn’t quite sit right with him. “Want me to help treat those?” he asked, nodding at where Spy was clearly having a bit of difficulty with bandaging his wrist one-handed.

“Our medical supplies are being too regularly depleted even besides superfluous healing of minor injuries, and as much as I would appreciate a moment sat beside one of your dispensers, I’m afraid it would not be very much in the spirit of teamwork to accept your offer, Laborer. If the remainder of our dreary little group is not allowed to accost the dispenser unnecessarily, neither am I, oui?” Spy asked, tone light.

That was one thing he’d started to learn about Spy, especially as of late. Lying and stealing were things he was well acquainted with, but never for something he considered important. To get on other people’s nerves, to get information maybe, but not something important on a whim. Getting on everyone’s nerves was a different beast than intentionally sabotaging them.

“Well,” the Engineer said, still not quite feeling right about it all. “If not that, I can at least lend a hand with wrapping those up. I know a thing or two about getting shocked. Ain’t a fun predicament to be in.”

Only a moment’s hesitation before Spy shrugged, turning to face him, and the Engineer picked up the salve and bandaging and set to work.

This was more his element. Practical problems. Practical solutions. None of the overarching dread, the waiting for the next disaster, the not quite knowing what to do with himself in the miliseconds before the next chore, the next job, the next drive. Just wrapping a wound. Just fixing a problem.

Distantly, there was the sound of something clattering, Demo cheering. The sun was now out of view, and he heard the sound of lights buzzing to life across the area. The light was getting low, and cold was starting to settle into place, more than welcome after yet another sweltering desert day. The smell of hot metal and sweat faded with each breeze that passed through, leaving only the smell of chilly night air, fresh and welcome. By the time it got dim enough to start making him squint to see properly, and he started to wonder whether he should just push through or get a light from somewhere, he realized he was done.

But instead of a twitchiness, an itch to find something else, the urge to keep moving and to find the next thing he needed to work on, he just felt satisfied. Clean bandages, neat wrappings. A vast improvement over before. And when he looked up to see how Spy felt about it all, the man was smiling, just a little, just enough to see even in how dim the room was.

“...What’s the smirk about?” he asked, feeling a bit embarrassed, as if he was missing something.

“Nothing,” Spy said easily, “I suppose I’m just glad you seem to be feeling better.”

A pause, during which the Engineer realized Spy was right. The tension was gone, the ache in his head was fading into a simple weight, and the nausea had settled into nothingness, leaving him relaxed, steady. He blinked.

“Apologies if I’ve overstepped my boundaries,” Spy said after a few moments of that stunned silence, searching his face. “It’s just that for the last several weeks you’ve been stomping around with the third most sour expression I’ve ever seen on you, and it seemed as though nobody else was going to bother stepping in any time soon. I thought that perhaps food and fresh air and polite company may remedy things somewhat, and you seemed determined to only interact with us when you deem it productive.”

“You burned yourself just to get me to sit in one place for a while?” he asked, taken aback.

“Oh, no, non, these burns are truly fairly standard by now,” Spy waved off easily, carefully pulling back on his gloves and watch over the bandages, “I simply prefer to tend to them on my own, the majority of the time. Non, simply a convenient excuse to need your help.”

A pause. “Of all the ridiculous things,” he marveled, blinking at Spy.

In the darkness, he could only barely make out the way Spy’s mouth ticked up into a smirk, watching as he rolled his sleeves back down neatly and reached for his suit jacket. “Well, believe it or not, Laborer, I have been known to stoop to such lows as doing what you call ‘ridiculous things’,” he said, doing his jacket up in an easy motion in the same moment that he rose to his feet, “when I find them to be the only way I can possibly break through to ridiculous men.”

He only had time to sputter over the comment for a second before a gloved hand found his chin, tilting his head up just enough for Spy to lay a kiss soundly to either cheek, and only had time to sputter over that for a second before Spy was snickering and cloaking, a puff of smoke in his wake as he disappeared into the increasing night.

His face felt hot, and he felt that restless energy again, but for an entirely different reason than before, because he wasn’t positive, but he was fairly sure cheek kissing was the sort of thing you greeted someone with when you only meant it in a friendly sort of way, and his brain was far too scrambled to remember it properly just then.

Well. Now he had something to think about besides the robots, at least. Damn shame it couldn’t be a nice, neat, practical problem, but despite his best efforts, he really couldn’t find it in him to mind.

Oh, damn it all.

#engiespyweek21 #engiespy #napoleon complex #tf2 #team fortress 2 #shut up me #my fanfiction #here's hoping this formats right fingers cross

90 notes · View notes

noodlecupcakeswritings · 3 years

Text

An Unbreakable Bond - Chapter 5 (Kylo RenxOC)

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren now has everything he could possibly dream of, except for someone to rule by his side. And he’ll do anything to get Cora back.

The final fic in my Kylo/Cora Star Wars canon series. This is most definitely a TROS fix it fic because fuck that movie and shitty writing.

Please leave likes, comments and reblogs if you like it. If you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know.

Warnings: Language, Long chapter, No Kylo in this chapter, Mourning and grief, Angst and feels

Chapter 5

Cora

It was easy to sneak away in the dead of night from The Resistances camp. But what was surprisingly easy was getting to Onderon. Nobody would know I had left until the next day, and by then it would be too late to stop me from changing my mind. It had felt like a lifetime since I had last seen Varidun, when in reality it had been half a year. The images of him trapped in a First Order ‘medical wing’ still made me shudder. Hopefully, when I found him again, he would have his cybernetics back. Hopefully, I had the right place. I remember when I was a child Varidun had joked about ever needing a place to hide that Dxun was the place.

Thankfully, Onderon offered a shuttle to the surface of Dxun, although the planet itself unnerved me. The force energy was dark here. And the constant rain didn’t help make the planet look welcoming, nor did the sounds coming from the forests. Pulling up my hood to shield myself from the rain, I gripped my saber and stepped off the shuttle. The droid running the shuttle had mentioned a tall, older man who had lived here for a few months. The droid had also mentioned the man’s metal arm and one eye. It was good to know I was on the right track to finding Varidun.

An hour into my trek I had to use my lightsaber to light my path, although after walking a few more yards I saw a fire up ahead. Turning my saber off and clipping it back to my belt I continued forward until the trees cleared to reveal an entrance to what appeared to be ruins although what the building had previously been, I couldn’t tell. Upon further inspection, I found the black stone was carved with runes, but not Jedi runes. These were ancient Sith runes. And there sat under the shelter was Varidun. It felt odd to be filled with such dread at the location, yet hope at the man sat in front of me.

Varidun met my gaze, his expression unreadable. I suppose he wouldn’t be happy to see me, he probably just wanted to be left alone after everything he’d been through. He’d seemed to age more since I’d last seen him, his hair grey longer and covering the scars on the left side of his face where his cybernetic eye once was. He seemed in need of a shave and new clothes too. Now that I was face to face with him, I did not know what to say even after I’d had plenty of time to think about it.

“I know I’m probably one of the last people you want to see, but I need your help. You’re the only person I have left to turn too,” I finally broke the silence. Varidun turned his attention back to the fire, remaining silent instead of inviting me to sit with him. My heart sunk at his silence. Maybe I was too far gone now in his eyes. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tried one last time. “Please, Varidun,” I fought to keep my voice steady. Without turning to look at me, he kicked a small box out for me to sit. Hesitantly, I approached, dropping my bag beside me.

The heat from the fire is welcomed after walking in the rain for almost two hours. Glancing at Varidun, I couldn’t help but notice he was acting even more like a grumpy old man compared to when we had met. Although the judgemental silence was bothering me. “There are a few things we should talk about, before this goes any further. I’m sure you have questions, as do I,” Varidun finally spoke. I nodded, feeling like a child about to be scolded for my poor actions. “I came here alone. Nor did I tell anyone where I was going,” I said, as if it’s supposed to make him feel better.

“I’m not worried if you were followed. This planet is rather suited for keeping the faint of heart away. Which leads to my first question. How did you make it through the jungle?” He asked. I couldn’t help but smirk softly at his question, feeling a little more at ease now around him. “I wasn’t given the teacher’s pet nickname for no reason. Besides, a lots changed since then.” “That much I know, I can sense the change within you,” he finally met my gaze, “but do not test the jungle here, Cora. It has killed far stronger than you.”

I sighed softly, understanding the warning, and whilst a few years ago I would have heeded that warning. Now it meant nothing to me, not after the multiple attempts on my life. “I’m sure it would be a much more painless death,” I replied. Nothing would match the pain I felt the day Snoke ripped Kendra away from me. None of the injuries from training matched it, being poisoned by Hux didn’t match it. That pain of losing my child would always be with me, as would the scar across my belly.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that...but let’s talk about something else. As I said, I’m sure you have questions for me,” Varidun quickly changed the subject. There were a lot of questions I had, but now was not the time to ask them. “Can you help me? With controlling my anger? I don’t know what to do anymore, but I know it would be wrong to just give into it,” I asked. “Why come to me instead of Luke?” My face dropped at the mention of Luke. The memory of how calm he had been during my outburst only angered me once more. If he had cared, he would have gone after me or said something.

“He decided to show his face at the wrong time. After years of being in hiding, he doesn’t get to decide when he wants to help again. He isn’t the hero I thought he was when I was a child,” I explained. “Luke Skywalker....was hiding?” Varidun asked in disbelief. “After the temple was destroyed, he ran to a planet where nobody would find him, abandoned his whole family and hid for years. It wasn’t until his daughter found him recently that he regained his balls to come out of hiding.”

Varidun fell silent again, staring into the crackling fire. He probably feels the same disappointment I had by Lukes cowardly actions. Luke had been important to Varidun too, taken Varidun in when he thought all hope was lost and there was no good left in the galaxy. “How did you escape?” I asked. “The Supremacy? How much do you already know?” “Snoke died and then you were in my head before I escaped,” I shrugged softly. “Alright, don’t get smart with me. I only asked because the only reason I was able to even break free when the ship took that large hit. Ren.” My brow furrowed as I looked at him in disbelief. It didn’t seem believable, Kylo had no reason to help him, not when Varidun had been so valuable to Snoke.

“Why? Why would he help you?” I asked. “I dont know why he did it, and I don’t really care either. But I wasn’t about to turn down a chance to break out of there. I had planned to cause as much chaos as I could and go from there, but when that ship launched itself into us, I felt a little out matched.” Nodding once, the conversation dipped again. The last thing I wanted to do is talk about or think about Kylo Ren. “So sleeping arrangements? I’m guessing you’ve got yourself a nice little makeshift bedroom and I’m taking the floor?” I asked. “Hmph, lucky for you I’d already guessed why you had come here, I figured it’d happen, eventually. There’s a spare bedroll in the corner, you can take it and sleep wherever your most comfy. Though I’d recommend not too close to the door.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I awoke the same as every morning, with a start from the same nightmare, softly panting as my heart hammered against my chest. My skin felt clammy from a light sheen of sweat. Cautiously, I lifted the front of the bedroll and checked for blood. It was almost like a morning ritual now, whilst others woke up and might have breakfast and a shower, I would wake up from the same nightmare and check for blood. I knew I would never find any, but the nightmare was always so vivid, the pain always felt so real. Once calmer, I changed into clean clothes and headed to the entrance of the ruins to make a start on breakfast, although Varidun had beaten me to it.

Varidun was sitting at the fire by the entrance to the ruins. This time, however, suspended above the fire on a spit was a few pieces of meat. Wrapping my now dry cloak around me for extra warmth and a little comfort, I then sit by the fire. Hopefully, I didn’t look to sleep deprived and dishevelled that he’d ask questions. ‘Breakfast’ would at least be full of protein to keep my strength up. “I’ll take dinner duty seeing as you beat me at breakfast,” I spoke, offering him a soft smile. “That will depend if you are able to catch dinner,” he smirks. “I’ll do my best.” I replied, returning the smirk, “so what did you have in mind for training? Or is it a surprise?”

“That eager, are we?” “I just want to feel...in control of things again.” “And I trust you are aware that path is a long one” “I know. But I don’t care how long it takes, you know I’m willing to put the work in,” I nodded. Varidun stands and throws his cloak over himself, pulling up the hood as he walks to the door. “Eat your breakfast, you shall need all the strength you can muster for the coming days.” Eating quickly, I made sure not to leave a scrap of the meat. Once finished, I put the fire out and waited for Varidun to return by the entrance of the ruins. The rain seemed heavier, yet the sound of it hitting the trees and ruins did not dull the other noises of Duxn’s native beasts.

After waiting for a short while, Varidun returned from the jungle. Having now been thoroughly drenched by the rain, he once again took shelter next to me. “Let us speak plainly for a moment Cora, I offer to train you to become strong again, to know the ways of the force, and to hear the force sing within you stronger than it once did. I assume this is why you have come to me?” He asked. Narrowing my eyes in suspicion, I couldn’t help but feel this was an interrogation. But I knew better than to lie to him or tell him anything but the truth. “My anger has become a concern to myself and those around me. I want to learn how to bring it under control. Like you did,” I answered.

“And have you come here with any assumptions on how that shall be achieved?” “Not really, I tried meditating more, but that didn’t do much.” “Then that is where we shall start, follow me” Varidun headed out once again into the rain, taking the same path as before. After pulling my hood up, I followed behind him silently. My eyes darted around the surrounding forest, ready for anything. Eventually we came to a clearing, with a circle of large rocks in the centre. “Take a seat, Cora,” Varidun motioned to the rocks. Picking a more comfortable looking one, I crossed my legs and waited for further instructions.

“What is the force to you?” Varidun asked. Now that was a difficult question. One I’d never really thought about before, it had just been something that had always been there. Taking my time, I thought about my answer. It reminded me of the times back at the temple when Luke had been teaching me. I’d always been so desperate to please him and say something smart. Clearly nothing had changed. “An entity greater than myself and anything else in this galaxy, yet it seems to be a guide, a compass almost. Although sometimes I wish it would be clearer with its answers,” I answered. “Let’s narrow that down, what is a Jedi or a Sith?”

“They practice the light or dark ways of the force. A Sith is more in touch with their negative emotions and attachments than a Jedi.” “A simple way of putting it, yes, but also one that is leaning more towards one view over the other. Truth be told, they are both the same. And what are they without the force? Take the greatest Jedi knight, strip away the force, and what remains? They rely on it, depend on it, more than they know. Watch as one tries to hold a blaster, as they would a lightsaber, and you will see nothing more than a woman or a man. A child. The same goes for the Sith too.”

Listening to him intently, I realized I’d never really thought of it like that before, probably so deep into Lukes teachings to even consider it in that way. “That makes sense,” I replied. “Jedi and Sith rely on the force so much that they know no other way of life. So much so that a simplest of people could survive where we would not simply because they do not hear the Force as they we do. It is Irony of sorts. And that is among you first lessons. Learn to live without the Force. Once you can make your way without its presence, you will find you can survive much more,” Varidun continued.

My brow furrowed. This isn’t what I had expected from training, but I wasn’t about to question his methods and have him stop when I desperately needed help and guidance. “Okay. I can do that. I mean, I’ve done it before for the first few years after the temple was destroyed,” I said. “Explain?” “After Ben turned, it was best for me to cut off from using the force so he couldn’t find me or the resistance through our bond.”

“Hmm, it will do. Hiding one’s self from others who can sense them through the force isn’t exactly like being cut off from it. Understand this, Dxun is not a friendly place to those who only see the force in one way, and while I know you wouldn’t go wandering anywhere…” Varidun’s tone changed as if here a parent warning a child, “there are many places here that are better left alone. Do you understand?” “I understand.”

The planet had a reputation for its native beasts and ties to the Sith. Wandering off into unknown territory would not be a good idea. “I hope you do; this planet will test you, Cora. In more effective ways than I could. That is why I make it vital you understand how to block out those you do not want inside. I’m sure by now you have already built a strong defence against Ren, but those that rest here are far stronger in such techniques than even Snoke himself. It is part of the reason I have been able to remain hidden here. Should someone attempt to focus on this place and reach one individual, they would be met with a choir of minds, effectively hiding the one they seek from sight,” Varidun warned. I nodded again to reassure him, “okay. No wondering off, no listening to random voices.”

“Good. Now, when you meditate, what do you think of?” “I don’t think of anything. I clear my mind and focus on the feeling of the force flowing through me and around me.” “A standard Jedi use for it. Keep in mind though, meditation can be used not just to clear your mind and feel the force, it can be used as a time of reflection. To look back on events you have witnessed and be a part of, now a Jedi would use that to move on from those events. But if you wish to master your anger, you must learn to not only accept them but use them as a source for your hatred.”

That was not what I had expected to hear, and it concerned me. It went against everything I had been taught. “I don’t understand. I came here so you could help me control it. Not use it to my advantage,” I spoke, unease clear in my voice. “They are the same. When you can learn to control your anger, no matter its source in the heat of conflict, you can control it anywhere.” “If I can control it, does that mean the pain will stop?” Varidun pauses for a minute, unable to quite meet my gaze, “I cannot promise that”

Silence fell between us again. I was unsure if I wanted to go ahead with this. The pain was already unbearable. Even thinking about what could have been brought tears to my eyes and filled my chest with a familiar emptiness. The nightmares weren’t going to let up anytime soon. But what more did I have to lose? “Okay, we’ll try your method, “ I reluctantly gave in. “Remember, the choice is you’re to hold on to the memories, I can show you to focus them, channel them, and use them, but the choice will always be yours to let go of them.” It feels wrong to let go of them when they were all I had left of Kendra. Kylo had not allowed a service, burial, or cremation. Not even a keepsake to remember her. Only the pain and the scar across my stomach. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded softly, looking down at my lap.

“I felt it too, you know...that day, I recognize the feelings within you now, not the same as when it happened, but the roots are the same,” Varidun said solemnly. My gaze met his once more, as I was stunned by his words. The lump in my throat had grown that I knew the moment I tried to speak I’d start crying. “I...I...” I trailed off, unable to finish my sentence without my voice wavering. “Close your eyes, Cora, focus on the thoughts. Dont run from them, let them flow. Just as you would the force when meditating”

Unable to hold back the tears any longer, I shook my head, unable to continue. Standing up, I was ready to head back to the ruins and accept Varidun’s disappointment. “I can’t, I’m sorry,” my bottom lip trembled as I forced the words out. “You think you’ll get past these feelings by walking away from them?” “You think a little meditation is going to work?” I snapped, turning to glare at him, “I lost a child, Varidun! I felt my baby being murdered inside my womb and I thought I was going to die with her!” My voice raised with every sentence. “And how long do you plan to let that anger fester inside of you? Until you lose control and hurt someone you care about?” Varidun remained calm.

“Why do you think I came here in the first place?! The Resistance think I’ll turn on them at any moment, Leia thinks I failed her!” “Lady Organa thinks that? Or you do?” “What does it matter?! The point is, I wasn’t good enough to bring Ben home, and neither was our baby!” I yelled, finally admitting the truth out loud. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I let out a loud sob, allowing myself to break down. Varidun sighed but didn’t move to offer comfort, “you have to accept that he may never return. And that isn’t because you failed, it isn’t because you weren’t good enough. He may be too far under Snokes influence by now.”

“I know that now. It’s part of the reason I left. More so when he took away killing Snoke from me,” I said through my tears. “You think you could have killed Snoke? The one who manipulated Ren into the trap he’s now in? The one who kept me bound for so long? He would have killed you without hesitation. Assuming he didn’t make Ren do it.” “He murdered my daughter! Do you think I cared at that point that I was outmatched? He deserved to die!” “He deserved to die for much, but what would throwing your own life away for an attempt at revenge achieve?”

Meeting his gaze, I gave a soft shrug, “nothing. Not that I cared if I died in the process.” “You’re willing to throw away your life so quickly? You’re not a princess who’s lived a life of luxury, Cora. You don’t break when things get hard.” “What would you know?! You’ve never lost a child! She was my chance at finally having a family and she was taken from me like the last one!” “My family was taken from me when I was a child like you, but no, I wasn’t the one who lost a child or a family.” Varidun pauses, “I was the one who took them from others.”

“Then why did you try to help that night? Why did you stay and try to lead some of the padawans to safety?” I asked matter-of-factly. “Because just like you, I had found a place to call home. Somewhere I didn’t have to hide who I was anymore.” My shoulders slumped as I dropped the defensive attitude. I knew we were in the same boat, both taken in by Luke Skywalker where we had found a new family before it was ripped away from us and then our hero had run away and hidden.

He didn’t deserve my wrath, and that’s not why I had come here. He had only been trying to help, even if it was a more unconventional method. “Lunch break? And then we can get back to training?” I asked, apologetically. “I think lunch would be a good idea.”

Taglist: @reverieness, @sweetsec-93, @cltex84, @jana-banana-fana, @neeharlow

15 notes · View notes

inside-of-a-fangirls-mind · 5 years

Text

A Lonely Hut in the Woods. (Muriel)

Words; 2753

Warnings; none of believe just some cute fluff

Pairing; Muriel X Fem! Appreciate Reader

Notes; I'm obsessed with this game so please shoot me some requests in my asks so I can obsess more.

______________________________________

You weren't sure how long you had been gone but it had to be at least an hour or two. Basket full and heading back to the small hut that you had started to call home. After trying to stop Lucio and losing Morga in the forest, Muriel and you had headed home to get together with Asra to come up with a new plan.

How ever you didn't expect to be standing outside the door of the hut after hearing Asra's voice "why don't you just ask her to be your girlfriend?" The soft male questioned froze on the spot.

Of course, he was talking to Muriel who else would be in his hut. But you didn't expect the hushed response you had to strain to hear through the door.

"Why would she-" He paused a moment before sighing, "want me?" His voice softens in the second part.

It broke your heart, after everything. The kiss and time spent together, trying your very best to make him comfortable but still he didn't think you like him? You freaking like him! You sigh softly before eyes perking up as you hear Asra say what you were thinking.

"Muriel, she kissed you. Not only once but twice! Do you even know what that means? She likes you!" He begged his friend to listen.

"I don't stand a chance. You see the way Julian looks at her. Why me when she could be with… him?" His soft voices faulted slightly towards the end. A chair scrapped softly against the floor before you head someone plop down onto it.

"Trust me. She's not interested in Julian. Though he wishes. She likes you, that's why she's put so much effort into make sure you are okay. She doesn't just do that for everyone. Just give it a chance."

Asra voice sounded a bit smug as I felt his magic wash over me slightly. He knew I was listening. My heart pounding in my chest I slowly back away from the door. I didn't mean to introde. I was just curious. Muriel was so hard to read sometimes I wanted to be sure. Though he still hasn't outright said he likes me it was enough.

I slowly walk back down the path smiling to myself as a run a hand through my (h/c) hair and laugh softly. "Muriel likes me.."

As soon as you're almost at the end of the small path to the hut staring into the vast forest you hear the door to the hut swing open. You turn on the spot holding your smile as you pretend to just be walking up.

Asra hasn't even looked out the door but you know he knows you're there. He always does.

"If you dont. I'll lock you both in this hut for a few days. Then things would get.. fun" with a laugh the white haired man then shuts the door behind him on a most likely blushing Muriel.

He turns to see you and smiles before linking your arm in his. "Hey. I know you heard a lot of that and just so you know. I'm just trying to help." He gives you his brilliant smile and you know you can trust him. You always have.

"I know." You blush slightly before glancing towards the door doubting Muriel would even say anything about the conversation they just had.

"Don't do anything out of the ordinary, I want him to do this. He needs a push otherwise it won't be a learning experience. He needs to know that you're someone he can tell anything to." He looks behind us and then his voice softens. "Cause I won't always be around. But you can. You can be there for him when I cant."

He takes your hands in his and smiles brightly at you. "I'm so happy you two connected like you did. And I want you both to be happy. So bad. You deserve the best." And with a quick hug he's waving you off as he heads towards the forest.

"See ya around." He chuckled before disappearing into the trees. You watch him off before turning to look at the door to the hut. You take a deep breath then walk up the path slowly.

As you get closer you see Inanna carrying a small rabbit in her mouth, she always looks happy to see you as she walks up tail going a mile a minute.

You lean down and stroke her head softly, "Hey Inanna you're just in time for dinner. And I see you brought your part." You chuckle softly before opening the door letting her on first.

She heads straight to lay in front of the fire place chewing away at her meal. You enter not seeing Muriel at first, but then you see his green eyes watching you from the corner where the table is.

"I'm back. Got lots of atuff, wanna see?" You him softly as you set your basket on the table and start unloading slowly. He doesn't say a word but walks over to the table and stands across from you, eyes on everything you're pulling out.

You smile to yourself before laying out 3 loads of bread, pumpkin, banana, and mixed berries, then a jar of fruit jam, and finally some smoked eel. His stomach growls at the sight of the eel, but he doesn't reach for anything. You then pull out some bottled salty bitters, it was a pretty coin to get but Muriel had mentioned once how he hasn't had it in years and getting him to a pub wasn't an option right now. You glance towards Inanna when you pull out two smaller cuts of chicken as her eyes stare directly at it.

Instinctively you hand them to Muriel, "For Inanna. I wanted to get you both something." You smile sweetly holding your hands over his. A soft blush creeps up his cheeks, but he turned his back to you offering the meats to Inanna. She gently took them from him before barking twice happily. Then forgetting about the Rabbit and eating the cut meats.

It made you happy knowing she excepted your gift, so often she didn't. You see the last few items in the basket. A few bottles of liquids for spells and a small green blanket with a tiny wooden wolf wrapped inside. You didn't know if he would like it at all. But you pull out the blanket and the wolf and wrap the blanket around his shoulders.

He jumps slightly before closing his eyes and enjoying the very soft feeling of the blanket. "W- what's this for?" His voice is soft so you lean against him to whisper in his ear.

"I thought you would like it so I got it. Plus the first isn't very soft all the time. So you can use this under them." You then step to the side of him and held out the small wolf. "this too." As you hold it over his hand.

He slowly grabs it staring at it in his hand. Then looking to you confused. "a wolf?"

You chuckle softly before nodding. "So when Inanna goes to visit her family you won't miss her too much." A soft blush is now on your cheeks as you look towards Inanna whose ears peaked up when you said her name.

Muriel looked from you to Inanna to the little wolf in his hand. The blush on your cheeks didn't make sense to him and why did you buy him things all the time. Did you pity him? He can't help the corners of his mouth twitch into an almost smile before putting the small wolf in his pocket. "T- Thank you." He whispers.

You light up hearing that, he didn't say he didn't deserve it or complain. He just took it. You almost bounce back over to the table. "Come sit down and eat." You hum, before slowly cutting up a slice of bread and making him a small meal of the bread, eel, and jam.

He walks over and sits down staring at the food in front of him. Then looking to you as you sit down and smile at him. You take a bite of the eel and gesture to his food.

"You feed me all the time so I thought it was my turn." You can't help but gaze at him as he slowly picks up the eel and takes a small bite. You can't stop yourself, you nearly swoon. But you get yourself together before silent drifted over you two. It was always peaceful eating with him, the sound of the crackling fireplace, Inanna growling happily as she chews and the distant sound of chickens clucking.

You two sat like that for a while. When you both finished you stood up taking everything to the bucket in the corner. He starts to protest but stops before he gets a full word out. You finish cleaning up before looking at him softly. "I enjoyed eating with you." You then go to sit by the fireplace letting your cloak fall off from around your shoulders.

He stares at you before sitting on the bed picking up a stick to widdle on. You just enjoy the warmth of the fire washing over your skin.

After a while, you ended up head laying on Inanna as you yawned. A quick nap wouldn't hurt anyone. Closing your eyes as you watch Muriel work away at the stick slowly making it into something, you can't make out what it is as slumber falls over you.

The only thing that wakes you is Muriel banging his shoulder into the door of the hut. At first, you don't think anything of it just closing your eyes again before you hear him mumble out a string of curses. That wakes you right up.

Stretching your arms over your head, letting a yawn. "Whats-" you yawn again covering your mouth before rubbing the sleep from your eyes, "wrong?"

Muriel looks at you with a blush creeping over his cheeks. The sun was already set, you sitting up noticing the fire had died altogether.

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before finally speaking. "Asra, he uh." He looks around for an excuse but he can't find one. "he, well. Trapped us in here? Something about it being good for us." His voice is at a whisper by the time he finishes.

Your cheeks now start to blush, you had heard the threat but thought it was empty. You could just come clean, told him you heard everything and that you want to be with him. But Asra said he had to do it.

"I- oh. Why?" You hum finger combing through your hair, Inanna was nowhere to be seen. You guessed she wasn't restricted from leaving only you two.

His eyebrows knitted together before he shoved on the door once more. "Cause he thinks it will…. Be good for us?" He questioned more than answered.

"Oh," you whispered before slowly standing up. "Well. I guess we should make the best of it. We still have the bitters." You hum before heading over to the bottles on the table. "You want one?"

He follows you with his eyes but doesn't move from the door. "Okay." You walk over and push a bottle into his hand before sitting in front of the fireplace again.

Closing your eyes you focus your magic and create a few new logs in the fireplace. Opening your eyes you then snap as a small flame starts on your finger and you light the fire again.

Muriel has now taken a few sips of the bitters and moves to sit around the fireplace too. But slightly away from you, your knees barely touching.

You then bring the bottle to your lips taking a deep sip, maybe this would loosen you up so you could finally tell him how you feel.

Soon enough you both finish off the bottles, you're leaning on his shoulder and he's beaming softly at you. Though you don't notice with your eyes fixed on the warm fire.

"Hey, Muriel?" You whisper nuzzling into him. Your soft voice shakes him to his core or maybe it was just the bitters.

"Yes?" He looks down at you but he didn't expect you to meet his green eyes. You smile happily at him before twirling a strand of his hair around your finger.

"I-" you pause a blush forming on your cheeks, "I really really like you." You almost wanna run and hide as soon as it's out there, looking away from him and back to the fire. Though you feel his gaze follow you're every movement.

"Y- you do?" He barely gets out before nervously cupping your cheek to bring your eyes back to his. He needed to know if you were lying.

You swallow and nod slowly, resisting the urge to nuzzle into his beautiful hand. It was so cool against your warm cheeks. His green eyes never leave your face before he musters up all the courage he can and slowly leans towards you. Taking his time in case you change your mind or say it was all a joke.

Looking into your (e/c) eyes he knows you would never lie to him and he brushes his unsure lips against yours. That was all it took. Him trusting and you willing. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck as your lips slowly part in time with his.

The whole world seems to stand still, nothing matters but the heat from his mostly exposed body, the fire dancing over both of your skins. His hand stays on your cheek, softly stroking with his thumb. But soon you have to come up for air.

Neither of you say a thing, he sits up rather away from you a hot red blush running from his cheeks down his chest. Or maybe it was just the bitters.

You put your hand over his gently and stare at the fire trying to calm your pounding heart.

"Would you…" he starts to whisper but stops himself shaking his head. It was stupid, why would you want him.

"Yes." You turn and look at him. "Yes, I would." You're almost beaming at him. He looks off guard before shaking his head.

"You don't even know what I was going to ask." His voice is soft before you just can't take it anymore.

"Just shut up and kiss me, you goofball." You whisper cupping his cheek and pulling him in for a kiss. He doesn't resist and follows you, lips merging together in a sweet kiss. Time always stood still, everything didn't matter at that moment.

"I want you, you and only you." You whisper against his lips, his lips never lose the smile.

"I want you too…" he hummed pressing his forehead against yours softly. At that moment you hear the door open as Asra burst through.

"About time. I thought I would have you two locked in here for days." He laughs softly before looking over the two of you nearly fangirling.

"Asra," Muriel starts before you kiss his cheek and stand up.

"Asra that wasn't cool, but thank you. I don't think we would have ever gotten together on our own." You smile at your white-haired friend, though you knew about all of this beforehand.

"I know and look at you two! So perfect for each other!!" He squeaks. Muriel then stood up towering over behind you.

"Alright everyone out of my hut…" he looks between the two of you before mumbling "except Y/N…" Asra's eyes light up before winking at you and heading towards the door.

"Don't have too much fun." He calls out before closing the door behind him, Muriel going a dark red knowing what his friend meant.

You take his hand in yours, kissing his palm ever so softly. "in due time that will happen. We aren't going to rush anything. I don't even have to stay the night.." you start before he leans in and kisses you a bit unsure.

"Wh- what was that for?" You whisper looking deep into his green eyes.

"I- I don't want you to leave…" it takes a lot for him to say that but it has you smiling to no end.

"Don't worry, I won't." You hum softly. You'd never leave him, not again.

PART TWO

#muriel #muriel the hermit #muriel the arcana #muriel the mountain man #muriel x reader #muriel x apprentice #muriel and asra #asra the magician #asra and apprentice #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcane mc #muriels hut #muriels route #fanfiction #the arcana fandom #the arcana fanfic

471 notes · View notes

sleeplessinsiswati · 5 years

Text

Create Heaven Here—My Story

For the record, this probably should have been the first “official” post for this blog. My bad, I’m a learn-as-you-go type so I’ve been messing around and BOOM well, here we are.

*clears throat* ahem...

When I was young I wanted to be a writer. I always dreamed of being a writer; of my words mattering to someone. The unique ability of being able to eloquently articulate thoughts and touch someone else deeply was nothing short of a poetic wonderland in my childhood imagination. Now I am older, and I realise that words, these words are all that I have to give. I once believed that this was not enough; that the sum of who I am had to add up to more than what I can say about this life, or what I have seen of it. I now understand that it does not have to be more than this so much as it has to be true, no matter if the impact of those words is great or small. I am writing this because I wanted my first post in country to be about me; here I will paint an in-depth portrait of who I am and why I am here.

________________________________

It is a common theme in stories originating from the continent of Africa that history is intertwined with mythology, and so too the story of my life is told. Before I was born, my father wanted to name me Shaka Zulu in honour of the infamous, Southern-African warrior. My mother protested, worried that I would endure ridicule and shame because of a lack of understanding from other children or teachers. And with that wisdom, I was instead named after her, Desmond—the son of Desiree. If only they had saw fit to ask the Creator to not give me the soul of a warrior since it was decided I would no longer be receiving the name. I was born with asthma. Mom would later tell me that it was because even before I was born the evil of this world wanted to steal my breath, to take my words.

In early childhood, I found it hard to have a voice for myself. As a matter of fact, for the first year and a half of my life my parents did not think that I could talk at all; my older brother, Gerald, would always speak for me. Whatever he liked, I liked; whatever he wanted, I wanted. It wasn’t until one fateful Sunday School class where there was an option of cheese or peanut butter and jelly crackers that I had spoken publicly at all. With whatever self-esteem I could muster up in my infantile body I stated very clearly, and to the surprise of all in attendance, that I wanted peanut butter and jelly crackers. That would be my first fight; my brother wanted me to have the cheese crackers. From then on my life would be a series of advocating for myself or on behalf of others, and willingly paying the price no matter the cost.

I got into a good number of fights as a child. I was more passionate than I was “boy”. I had a spirit of fire and wind; free, scorching, and bold. I went from unspeaking and timid to outspoken and determined. Dont ask me what I was determined to do, though. To this day, I do not know what I was so serious, so keen on grasping at prepubescence. I was raised in the church like most Southern Louisiana, Black boys. It was here that I was able to find comfort and a sense of pride. Along with the classroom, the sanctuary was a place where my words were accepted; it was a place where intelligence and passion could meet, and where adults were impressed and were quick to take promising young pupils under their wing. Many teachers spoke highly of my performance in the classroom, and so did ministers at my place of worship. Unfortunately for me, there was a great degree of protection that was in the church setting that was not remotely available in an inner-city elementary school with a magnet component.

I could never understand at the time, from the background which I came, why “Church Boy” was an insult. Honestly, it didn’t bother me so much as the implications that came with it. Implications like that I could not defend myself; that even if I could not, that I had parents who would quickly take up for me; that I was weak and afraid of a world that was unknown to me; that someone else had the right to take these things from me. These statements were made between curled lips and clenched teeth and clenched fists; from smacked lips and cold stares I learned that having two parents in one home and having an identity rooted in church life were things to be snickered at. With those snickers came threats, boys posturing themselves to be perceived as men; willing to play at absolute dominant power in the face of what seemed like a helpless Christian kid. And with that, I let those assholes eat my fists. Never one to back down from a fight, I got in more fights in and out of school between my elementary and high school years than I care to remember, in and out of school. I lost many of them, I won some. One thing I never did was back down. I would be felt, I would be heard, I would be respected.

This philosophy came to frustrate my parents who constantly reinforced a message of choosing battles. Though I felt an angst from the outside world, there was no difference in emotion concerning the place that I called home. My mom has always been a jewel in my mind; her beauty, poise, and radiance will never fade and will always be priceless. My dad, my protector; a strong tower and defender of his family, which for him was his pride and joy. En lieu of these praises I now sing, the truth is as a child I felt very much alone and afraid. My dad would often invalidate the words I would say as foolish or thoughtless, and it was a rare sighting for my mom to protect my emotions from his aggression in those moments. Mom was an artist in her day, and I would say very much so an existentialist. She taught her sons to feel, and to feel deeply the offerings of this life; what a gift this is, and it is one I will forever be grateful for. But, what a curse this was, when under the weight of the absolute terror that is an emotionally insensitive parent. As if the words and insults of a man you see as your protector and provider were not enough, the inexplicable silence of that other person who built you as this fragile human being made for a combination that never ceased to knock the wind out of me.

Even in sports, which I did not particularly excel in for some time, my brother and I were not seen by other players as much more than the coaches’ sons. With this came the same insults and curses that I experienced at school, but only this time in an environment of high passions and high volatility. Myself, being the more hotheaded between Gerald and I, always took the bait of these insults only to be publicly humiliated by my dad once word reached to him. It was inescapable, this fog of perpetual pain that occasioned seasonal rays of artistic expression and raging passion that served as my outlets. The one haven, the castle on the hill in this experience was the church. I was a child that was made vulnerable to everything, and therefore I felt everything. This eternity of feeling left me ragged and tired of many things, and as a result I became a very cold and methodical young man. I became what others would refer to as “mature” and “wise beyond my years” or “strong”; I never wanted to be any of these things. I never wanted to be strong, I just wanted to be safe.

Through sheer determination and willpower I did well both academically and athletically in high school. I graduated, and went on to undergraduate studies out of state. More than anything I wanted to leave behind Louisiana and it’s incessant ignorance and backwards logic; how wrong was I to think that it was a regional issue. I decided in college that I wanted to be a different person, a more visible leader and advocate on behalf of myself and other. I think it was this thought that guided me to make a vast majority of the decisions I would come to make, both good and bad. I would hold a few positions on campus and ran track my first two years of college. These points are not why this era in my life matters, though. It was here that my life would first fall apart, and largely because of my own doing. Somewhere between my university studies and my out-of-class experiences I no longer believed God had an active role in my life. I mean sure He was up there and guided me to the school in the first place, but looking back on my life I did not see a reason to believe that there was this ultimately powerful being who had been looking out on my behalf; again, the God I knew made me vulnerable, transparent to a world that sought to destroy my faith in it and in Him at every turn. If that was the God that had been watching me since birth I wanted nothing to do with Him, or, rather, I think we needed to spend some time apart.

And so, I lived my life and I lived it grandly. Unashamedly infatuated with luxury, opportunity, and prestige, I was well-known on campus; in some ways, I was notorious on campus. Eventually, that notoriety caused me to make some ridiculous college kid decisions, as most college kids do, that almost had very adult consequences. Regardless of what did not happen, one particular situation had consequences that resulted in a very loud, very public fall from grace; I was ashamed. That summer, on my annual return to Louisiana, I was broken and lost. I felt alone, embarrassed, and trapped, not much different from how I once felt as a child. It was in this season that I began reading Thich Nhat Hanh and meditating. I began shaving my head, a sign of consecration to a purpose I had long thought I lost or forgotten, and cut all meats out of my diet except for fish.

Yet embarrassed because of the terms on which I left the university, I told some of my peers and fraternity brothers that I more than likely would not be returning. The weight of the guilt and reliving the chaos of the preceding year seemed too much to bear. In the midst of these thoughts came the same soft, cool, all-consumingly overwhelming feeling that led me to the institution, initially. In that moment, to my soul came the urge to return and that if I were to not return I would be a coward. “What has kept you, will not sustain you”. Those words, words that came, in my opinion, from the universe directly to my spirit were the words that I rode all the way to Nashville on a 12am Greyhound bus.

In this final year of university, I discovered more about myself that I can explain; who I was, who I was not, who I wanted to be, and who I was willing to become. The magic of the moments in that year seemed to meet me in roaring waves of enlightenment and revelation; I was alive, fully alive for the first time. In this season I began to see the early formations of a personal philosophy that would become the cornerstone of a dream—a dream to create my own reality. It would be this dream that would propel me to achieve another lifelong dream of mine: becoming a Peace Corps volunteer.

Peace Corps was, and is still, an opportunity for me to connect with people world’s away; to learn their language, their ways of life, what life means to them, and what love means to them. For me, this was, and again still is, perfectly in alignment with who I wanted to become and had been a dream for me for quite some time. Well, after finishing my undergraduate studies, a two year completion of graduate studies back at home, and a marriage-to-my-best-friend later, I and my partner were granted the opportunity to become Peace Corps Volunteers in eSwatini (Swaziland). After months of training, going from Septemeber 27th to December 12th, we were able to be sworn in, officially, as volunteers of the United States Peace Corps. These past few months have been riddled with their own, unique challenges. Viewing life as an adventure helps me to make light of these experiences, and to examine them objectively, in the grand scheme of life.

The experiences I have had the blessed opportunity to be a part of and the future experiences I will have the chance to live and feel will be documented and scribed here for two main purposes: to tell a story that often times is not told; the story of the Black male minority, who has a rare opportunity to go places that many other Black people may never have the chance or the courage to. The second purpose, is to be transparent about the hard work and the beautiful struggle that is connecting, living, and loving other human beings. Despite the difficulties, despite language barriers, despite whatever obstacles, I believe that all people seek peace and connection, wholeness and reconciliation. It is this belief that has guided me, that has become my personal philosophy, and that continues to guide me.

To close, I refer to the Biblical passage of the story of the Tower of Babel; all of humanity came together with the grand cause of building a tower to reach the heights Heaven. Not only were they successful in their united endeavors, but so much so that the hosts of Heaven feared that humanity would ascend into the Heavens because, when they were united, there was nothing they could not accomplish. As a result, humanity was called to speak different languages in order to cause division and confusion amongst themselves. I am here, and walk this Earth, with the intention of rebuilding that tower; or rather, to bring about the revelation that Heaven was the ability to have peace and love, united in a cause for the benefit for all of humanity.

Once there was an endeavour to build a tower to reach unto Heaven. Why build up when what you truly seek is inside and around you? You do not have to wait until you die; you do not have to wait for an act of God. You are the act of God; your life is an act of God. Come on; let’s Create Heaven Here.

#pceswatini #personallife #peace corps #eswatini #swaziland

0 notes

samanthasroberts · 7 years

Text

7 Foods You Should Never Order On A Date When You Know You’re Going Home With Him

We can literally write a bible filled with the amount of questions and thoughts that go through our minds during a date, and deciding what to order goes on the top of the list. Okay, maybe after like, is he a serial killer. Anyway, if youre planning on going home with this guy later, you want to order the right thing so that you dont end up feeling bloated, gassy, or in a food coma. Like, if youre treating this date like your cheat day, youre missing the point. Here are the seven things you should avoid ordering at all costs if you know youre going home with him.

1. Extra Soy Sauce

Sushi is a typical date option, and theres nothing wrong with ordering a couple basic rolls and a miso soup, but if you dont want to get bloated after dinner, I would avoid soy sauce like the plague. Sorry if that ruins your meal, but soy sauce is literally a sodium bomb, which will make your stomach bloat, and probably your face too. Soy is difficult on the stomach in general, so you can only imagine what 5,000 milligrams of added salt will do to your tummy post-dinner. Yes, that’s how much sodium is in soy sauce. Look at your life, look at your choices.

2. Hummus Platter

A lot of restaurants offer a Mediterranean-style appetizer with some hummus, vegetables, and pita chips, and you might think youre being super healthy for opting for this instead of chips and guac, but itll come back and haunt you later in the night. In case you forgot, hummus is made of chickpeas, aka garbanzo beans, AKA BEANS. This appetizer will make you super gassy and its really not worth it. Youre better off with the chips and guac.

3. Brussels Sprouts

This category also includes cauliflower, broccoli, kale, or any other cruciferous vegetables that are loaded with fiber. I mean, dont get us wrong. On any other night wed Seamless three orders of crispy Brussels sprouts from The Smith and eat it for dinner while watching TLC, but on a date, veggies loaded with fiber are just a recipe for disaster (read: farting). These types of vegetables usually lead to gas, bloating, discomfort, and you spending an uncomfortable amount of time in the bathroom while your date wonders if you’re trying to ditch him, so just skip them all to be safe.

4. Bread Basket

The bread basket is always tempting as fuck, but if you needed another reason to reject it, here it is: bread is known to cause bloating in most people. Whether you consider yourself Celiac, Gluten-free, Paleo, Vegan, or any other diet you parade all over social media, bread should be avoided on dates. I dont care if its whole wheat, 9-grain, grass-fed or whatever the fuck is available nowadays. Skip the bread to avoid bloating. Or if not to avoid bloating, just skip it so he isn’t forced to witness you stuffing your face with 15 dinner rolls. Save that for like, the third date.

5. Processed Meat

If youre on a date at a baseball game and think youre being super cute and down-to-earth by ordering a hot dog or a burger, you’re wrong. You might be better off with like, pizzaor even better, nothing. Processed meats have gone through a shit ton of processes (fucking duh) to preserve their shelf life, like salting, curing, smoking, and adding synthetic preservatives. They have a shit ton of sodium and are super high in fat, and were not talking about the healthy, avocado/almond butter type of fat. Just say no all those mystery meats and skip the charcuterie plate, too. I don’t care how classy you think you are because you can pronounce “charcuterie”; your perfect French accent will not matter when your love handles are bulging out of your jeans.

6. Anything Teriyaki

You might think youre sticking with the safe option by ordering the grilled chicken or salmon, but if the dish is prepared with a Teriyaki glaze, its probably gonna kill your stomach later on. Teriyaki sauce is literally made out of soy sauce, brown sugar, honey, and cornstarch, which is basically a recipe for a stomach ache. I mean, I know that sauce is finger-licking fucking amazing, but you shouldnt be doing that on a date anyway, so youre welcome.

7. Bubbly Drinks

Alcoholic or not, bubbly drinks are tricky on a date. On one hand, its tempting to order a vodka soda at the bar or a San Pellegrino for your table, but carbonated beverages are known to cause bloating/burping. And DONT get me started on beer. Is one drink really worth the regret youll feel later on? Def not. Your date will not be impressed that you can burp the alphabetand if he is, maybe you should not go on anymore dates with teenagers? If the waiter asks if you want sparkling or still, stick with still. Plus we all know the best way to appear sophisticated on a date is just to order regular, non-sparkling wine.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/06/05/7-foods-you-should-never-order-on-a-date-when-you-know-youre-going-home-with-him/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/06/05/7-foods-you-should-never-order-on-a-date-when-you-know-youre-going-home-with-him/

0 notes

jimdsmith34 · 7 years

Text

7 Foods You Should Never Order On A Date When You Know You’re Going Home With Him

1. Extra Soy Sauce

2. Hummus Platter

3. Brussels Sprouts

4. Bread Basket

5. Processed Meat

6. Anything Teriyaki

7. Bubbly Drinks

source http://allofbeer.com/2017/06/05/7-foods-you-should-never-order-on-a-date-when-you-know-youre-going-home-with-him/ from All of Beer http://allofbeer.blogspot.com/2017/06/7-foods-you-should-never-order-on-date.html

0 notes

adambstingus · 7 years

Text

7 Foods You Should Never Order On A Date When You Know You’re Going Home With Him

1. Extra Soy Sauce

2. Hummus Platter

3. Brussels Sprouts

4. Bread Basket

5. Processed Meat

6. Anything Teriyaki

7. Bubbly Drinks

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/06/05/7-foods-you-should-never-order-on-a-date-when-you-know-youre-going-home-with-him/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/161482955607

0 notes

allofbeercom · 7 years

Text

7 Foods You Should Never Order On A Date When You Know You’re Going Home With Him

1. Extra Soy Sauce

2. Hummus Platter

3. Brussels Sprouts

4. Bread Basket

5. Processed Meat

6. Anything Teriyaki

7. Bubbly Drinks

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/06/05/7-foods-you-should-never-order-on-a-date-when-you-know-youre-going-home-with-him/

0 notes