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endobiologist · 3 years

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Trans Guy Tips #3; Testosterone HRT, How to Inject, & Its Effects On Body & Mind, Pt. 1

Note: I will likely add more sections to this at a later time, as I learn more about taking testosterone and its effects. Be sure to check back!

1. First, and this can change depending on your body type and what your own endocrinologist recommends for you,

but personally for me and for a lot of transgender men, Testosterone Cypionate, usually 200mg each dose, is the best choice, and so is taking the injection form, doing that intramuscularly, and taking them bi-weekly, meaning every other week on the exact amount of time from the time you took your last dose.

My endocrinologist explained to me that this is due to if you overload your body with testosterone constantly, or if you overdose it in an attempt to get more effects, you will instead have the opposite effect where you will instead gain estrogen, and more of it, because testosterone converts to estrogen when there's an excess of it and the body senses it as something wrong!!

So please please never take more than you are supposed to take, prescribed officially by your doctor.

They usually recommend bi-weekly for most if choosing injections, because it makes it so the testosterone spreads evenly throughout your system the entire time, and just has a very even perfect use that makes the effect stronger and it makes your body get used to it quicker, which speeds up the effects significantly, and tends to be the healthiest option.

2. Also in terms of safety, never ever get testosterone from a non-official source like the black market, online, or from a friend. You cannot trust this, as it has not been evaluated medically whatsoever.

Also, most importantly, you don't have a medical professional there to see if your hormones and all your health is correct and good to start or continue, or what dose to take, or which kind works best for your body, as well as not having any checkups, which is also vital when you take a new hormone in your body to make sure everything is balancing right!!!

So it is very dangerous, you could accidentally overdose, or your body could malfunction somehow, or you could just be injecting yourself with stuff that doesn't work ever!!

There are many things that could go wrong, so PLEASE never ever EVER do this.

Get a trans-familiar endocrinologist.

3. Now mind you, there are other options for taking T if you just cannot handle injections whatsoever.

Option one are tablets called subdermal capsules that they implant under your skin, usually under your arm or shoulder skin as it seems to spread the best that way. They will slowly leak testosterone until they replenish themselves and you have to get them replaced.

Some people praise these as they are pretty even in effects, and they make it so you have a steady supply pretty well, and also you don't have to think about it very often as the tablets last quite a while.

The downside is, that despite its evenness quality, it doesn't actually have very strong effects.

It will still give you effects for sure, but it will take a lot longer, possibly multiple years, to see the full effects of it.

There are also things known as topical testosterone, where you can put a gel or cream on yourself and it will dose you with the amount it has in it.

This is the least invasive option, however it's one with a very small amount of testosterone, so it will take some of the longest to feel, or see, effects.

Also, I have heard from some people that if you are having someone else put the gel on you, if they accidentally get it on their skin, it will literally dose them with testosterone, which is not okay if you have someone who is not trans and does not want it doing it.

So if you choose this route, please do it yourself so you're not dosing any more on to other people, and instead just on to yourself.

It also doesn't waste the dose on others that way, and you get the full effects instead.

There is also things known as oral testosterone, taken through pill form. But I have heard some bad things about these, and I have heard recommendations not to use them due to there being a lot of downsides, as it doesn't absorb into your body nearly as well as any of the other options, even the slower ones.

But really what matters is what you need, and what your body needs, so even though injections provide the most amount and the most even supply when you use them, especially bi-weekly as well, it might be different for you as every single trans guy/transmasculine person is different, physically & mentally!

And some things work better for others, so consult with your doctor, and let them know the effects and the timing you want, and they will suggest options for you if you are not able to choose yourself without assistance due to lack of knowledge etc.

I would however recommend deeply researching every section of testosterone as I did, before going to an endocrinologist, so you are very prepared and know which kind you want already which will make the appointment take less time as well.

Also you never want to rely on the information of just one person, so always research.

Don't just trust my guide immediately or anyone's guide if it's just one you read, instead do your own research on many sites & forums, and find what works for you, as I can only say what works/worked for me.

4. And when it actually comes to the fun part, the injections,

I will give you a step-by-step guide on mostly how to have someone else inject you, but you can also take my advice for injecting yourself, however I have no advice for specifics of that, such as ways to calm yourself down from queasiness when doing it yourself, since I have never injected myself due to me honestly being just a little squeamish about doing it myself.

But I've always had my mother do it, and I have watched occasionally to see how best to do it, and have experienced it quite a few times now, so I know which way is the least painful as well.

If I were ever forced to do it myself, that way I would be able to because I know how to beforehand.

Now what you do is when you pick up your prescription of Testosterone, this is assuming if you take it bi-weekly and an injection form, you get two 1 ml bottles (A month's supply) and you have to unfortunately ask for & buy the syringe that comes preloaded with the needles.

Also make sure never to ask for just a needle, cuz they will literally give you just a needle, and no syringe.

It's happened to me before, LOL.

They usually have the syringes & needles in stock almost always, but there are a few occasions where they didn't have the needles.

But it is honestly annoying having to pay for something extra when the testosterone itself doesn't cost anything, yet the injection needles you need to use it do??? Lmao.

However it's not that annoying, because they're actually relatively cheap!

Here in Nevada, with no discounts used, they usually only cost you about like $3 usually, $4 at most, so it's pretty price effective.

5. I strongly recommend this, it was my mom's edition to this by the way, she strongly recommends as well,

that you should wait at least a month before taking your first dose of T.

Even when you just received it!

The reason for this is because sometimes they will be out of testosterone or out of needles, or you won't be able to afford it for whatever reason, you never know and it's so much better to have at least 1 if not 2 backup doses and syringes + needles on hand so you never have to worry about that.

I was impatient and injected the day I got it, and so though I haven't run into a problem yet, it is stressful knowing that if a mistake happens with the injection and the fluid leaks out too much, or something happens, whatever it is, that I won't have a backup dose.

So, I would highly recommend waiting a month or even two before injecting, so you have two doses and you pick it up way before you run out every time.

That's way more efficient.

6. Now although this comes from the point of view of someone who hasn't injected themselves, and only has been injected, I pretty much know how it works so I could if I had to, I would just be squeamish.

And for a lot of people they feel the same, so it's easier to get a family member or a close friend to do it for you, as long as they're always around when you need to take your dose.

Personally I have my mom do it because she's talented at injections due to having reptiles that needed some done the same way.

So, basically, you take everything out of its containers, and make sure not to touch the needle itself ever.

Once everything's out of its containers, then make sure to test if the needle is totally closed onto the syringe.

If it is, it's good to go.

Checking the tightness of the needle is very important because if you don't, you can end up having the needle pop off inside you, and release none of the testosterone actually inside of you, wasting a dose completely & it just hurts like a SOB.

Now, take the cap off the needle.

I would recommend always sanitizing the needle, the syringe, and also having a little gauze pad or paper towel piece, all soaked with rubbing alcohol to sterilize the area you will be injecting, so there is no risk of infection at all.

Although not extremely important, I'd recommend you'd also want to bring a tiny Band-Aid.

It will be a very very tiny wound, more like a dot, but it actually bleeds quite a bit after, due to it going deep in, so it's helpful to put a Band-Aid on just for the first hour or so, then take it off and let it breathe, and it heals super quick. It'll be gone before, or by the next day, usually.

Please remember not to touch the needle ever as it'd ruin its sterilization. They're usually sterilized, but it might be a good idea to sterilize them again just in case, to basically make sure there is no risk of infection whatsoever.

Also this is just a common sense cleanliness rule,

but I still want to state it to make sure people know;

Always throw away every single needle and syringe you use, as soon as you are done using it.

Do not keep it or EVER re-inject with the same needle.

And also be sure to throw away any testosterone you have left that is excess from your dose.

You do not need that, as it goes bad and won't work after being exposed to air, so it's impossible to save and use later, unfortunately.

Now, you will be injecting intramuscularly in the leg, either leg will do, hell you can switch them up each time if you'd like. It doesn't matter much.

This means you will be injecting on the area of your thigh that is a little high up, and towards the top, but a little to the outer side.

This means the testosterone is injected straight between the muscles, and goes to the bloodstream quickly also, when you inject.

Now you want to remove the lid from the Testosterone Cypionate bottle, and shake It up very very good, so that there are no bubbles, no particles visible in the Testosterone, and no oil separation either.

If it looks completely clear, or is a slight yellowish colour but mixed together well, then you're good to go.

The possible slight yellowish color comes from the cottonseed oil that they use to store the testosterone correctly in.

It makes it to where you have to use a little bit of a bigger needle to inject yourself with, but it's actually a very very small needle and it's not painful very much at all.

A lot of myths I read about testosterone before I received it said the needles were huge and scary and painful, but the truth is they're not at all, even to me who's slightly scared of needles and has low ability to tolerate pain.

Literally, popping a zit hurts worse than the injections.

The pain is something like a very tiny ant bite, or a slight pinch on your skin, it doesn't really hurt very much at all.

In fact, whenever I take mine, even the very first time I did, I didn't even make a sound! And it's over very quickly, as well.

I would recommend for the easiest time however, for a little higher price, getting a 21 gauge syringe needle, and also an 18 gauge syringe needle for each dose you take.

The 21 gauge is larger for drawing up the testosterone from the vial easier than the 18 gauge would.

Then you remove that 21g needle from that syringe, and instead put on the 18 gauge for the actual injecting.

If you want a cheaper price tag, and/or you're just lazy like me, you can get away with using just an 18 gauge needled syringe, however it makes it much significantly harder to draw up out of the vial.

It is still quite possible, but is for sure challenging, mistakes can occur so be very careful if you choose this route.

Now when you're trying to draw up the Testosterone Cypionate out of the bottle, you want to hold it upside down, or downward at an angle kind of diagonal, and you want to make sure the needle is visibly in the liquid.

Then, you draw back slowly, but try and fill it as much as you can. You can always dispose of extra that you don't need.

If using only the 18 gauge like said earlier, which is what I personally do, it is very hard to draw up out of the bottle, so be very careful, and try to figure out the trick to it, is all I can say.

Everyone has a different trick for it.

Don't use all the testosterone in the bottle however for your actual being-injected-dose.

You need to usually use only 75 mL of the 1 ml bottle each dose.

Also before you ever inject, but after you fill the syringe, make sure to aspirate the needle, which means to act like you're injecting it, in the air pointing up, needle upwards, and you very slowly push down, which expels a little bit of the testosterone, but you also expel any air particles or bubbles that are trapped inside.

This is why you want to put a little more in the syringe than you actually will inject, because when you aspirate the needle some will leak out and make it the perfect amount to inject, rather than losing it an amount of it that you need.

If there is even a single bubble inside the syringe, that can cause a heart attack, and many other deadly problems!!!

So do not ever inject, if there is a bubble in your syringe.

If there is, best case scenario is you try to aspirate it heavily, even if you need to then refill it somewhat afterwards, the most important part is making sure no air bubbles are in it.

If there is no way to get the bubble out, you'd need to buy a new syringe, as it most likely has a deformation of some kind.

But that's the worst case scenario, and personally I haven't experienced that yet.

That, however, is why it is so important to aspirate, to make sure there's no air left in the syringe before you inject.

Now you want to make sure to get exactly .75 ml, that you put it up to the line right before 1 ml and that's about the amount you need.

And remember; never take more than prescribed, it will have the opposite affects you want.

Now that you know all the details, here is how to perform injecting the actual testosterone.

You take the needle to the sterilized area of thigh that you cleaned with the rubbing alcohol.

And you can either use a kind of sideways diagonal position to go in, or you can use straight on.

I find straight on makes it much less painful for me, so I usually go with that, but either way works, and whatever is most comfortable for you is what you should use.

Now you just go in kind of slowly, and try not to move the needle around too much, just push slowly all the way in 'till the needle is completely in the leg.

Then dispense slowly the testosterone to the intramuscular area, and once all the testosterone is out of the syringe and inside your bloodstream, pull it out very slowly, all the while holding the skin around it firmly, so that it doesn't hurt as much pulling it out. If you pull it out fast it fuckin' hurts.

You can also sterilize the area of injection again, if you want, but it's not really necessary.

Then, you just put that Band-Aid previously mentioned on, for like an hour, and you're good!

7. Now for the effects of testosterone, though I don't have a perfect timeline. But around one DAY in, I noticed for some reason my clitoral growth where your clitoris pretty much changes into a tiny penis except the urethra doesn't move unfortunately without surgery.

It can grow one to two inches at max, although I have not experienced that much yet.

However for some reason I had definitely experienced minor clitoral growth pretty much as soon as I took my first shot of testosterone, which is incredibly rare, as it's supposed to happen six months to a year in and be one of the later effects!! But for some reason, it was the first effect I got, so that really goes to show that everyone is built quite different, so some things in this guide might not be totally accurate for everyone.

1 week in, I started experiencing a very hoarse voice, not a sore throat or anything, but just where your voice sounds like you're sick or you're losing your voice, for some reason.

This is the first step in your voice changing to a deeper baritone.

It's usually not painful whatsoever, but I have heard from some people that it can irritate their throat occasionally due to the foreign feeling of it, this stage doesn't last very long though.

Then, about 1 month in, I started noticing extensive hair growth. Also I seem to have got way darker hair than any of my family members ever had, and way more hair than they ever had, so you can't totally rely on the predictions of what your family looks like to see how you're going to change.

You kind of have to be ready for anything to happen, but usually the hair growth and the masculinity of your family will almost always pass on to you when you transition physically.

This can even include male pattern baldness eventually.

Sometimes it happens to trans men immediately after taking it, other times it will take years and other times it will be when they're elderly like cis men have.

Personally, I have not seen any male pattern baldness yet, however my front l of my hair slightly receded back and in the shape of male members of my dad's side of my family, but nothing like a total receding hairline.

It still looks like a full head of hair!

Usually you can tell what type of hair you get by looking at your family members closely.

If your family includes a lot of thick hairy people naturally, then you are going to usually get very large amounts of hair.

If you have a family with barely any hair, or very light coloured hair, you'll usually get a small amount of hair or a large amount of hair but with light colour. Personally, I got real lucky so it's clear that there are exceptions, but that's usually how it goes is that you can look to your family members as to how you're going to look and sound like.

About 3 months in, my voice started really deepening and I mean really deep. But the funny thing about it is that sometimes it will switch from being really low and masculine and amazing, to being kind of regular like before, to a little low but not super low, and even to what I call the "permanent helium" which makes you literally sound like you inhaled helium but it's literally just your vocal cords cracking that bad from growing to a male length.

Sometimes it will crack in a way where you can't stop talking in that high pitch, and it's really awkward, but it is also really funny if you learn to laugh at yourself, and always remind yourself that this is the process of gaining a deeper voice.

I have heard that vocal training to make your voice deeper also helps exponentially for more effects if you want a super deep voice.

About 4 to 5 months in, which is where I'm currently at, I've experienced way more hair growth!

Even more so than the start of it.

My head hair seems to be thicker and healthier for some reason, I'm not sure why because I have never heard of that affecting your head hair, its texture, or its thickness like that?

But it seems to have happened, so I guess it's possible?

I'm gaining a moustache and a few beard hairs, but mainly my moustache is super dark and already very visible.

Also due to my moustache and my deep voice alone, now I can already pass pretty much 100% of the time if maybe 99%, and I'm a very naturally baby-faced person too, so that's impressive!

My voice is mainly settled into a pretty deep baritone.

It still has a little bit of a high pitch sometimes, but barely.

I can tell there's a little more progress needed, but not much.

I don't do the helium thing as much as I used to, but it does still occasionally occur as lengthening your vocal cords, which is what occurs when you take testosterone, can be a lengthy and frustrating process at times.

I have also specifically seen lots of body hair at this time, way more than the sparse amount at first, including even a happy trail and a little bit of chest hair although it's not noticeable yet unless you squint, but it still has way more than I used to!

Also my hair on my arms, and especially on my legs, is thick, dark and everywhere.

I've also noticed my fat is starting tk begin redistributing a little bit.

It's not totally doing it yet, but it's getting close, as my thighs, hips, and behind area lost a bunch of weight, while my stomach gained a little bit of weight and so did my arms.

I also gained a fair bit of muscle as not only can I see it when I flex, but also I can lift things a little easier than I used to, and muscle seems to develop easier for me, even when I work out barely.

I've never been a very physical person, so it's still hard, but it's way easier now that I take testosterone.

Those are all the effects I have to record right now, as I'm only 4-5 months in, but I will update this with new parts as I experience more and more.

Also, please take all effects and timelines with a grain of salt, because everybody works differently.

Also I specifically was mentioning Testosterone Cypionate, bi-weekly injection form, so if you take testosterone in a different way, some of this might be different, irrelevant or even completely useless to you, but I am only able to provide information on these forms as they're the only form I've taken of it myself.

Now, to quickly dispel a few stupid myths that circulate around taking testosterone, to ease your worries.

Myth #1. "Testosterone makes you aggressive, violent, and a bad person!"

The truth is that testosterone does not change who you are, whatsoever.

It can however change certain little preferences like for example what flavor food you like will sometimes change, but usually not all foods, just a couple, or sometimes even just one.

It can change little tiny details, like maybe your favorite colour may change, and it definitely does have its emotional effects for sure, but it does not make anyone aggressive or violent automatically.

Testosterone is not an angry hormone, and estrogen is not a peaceful hormone, despite what most people stereotype them as being, so just blanketing everyone under the term of "aggressive" because they have testosterone in them is straight-up incorrect at best, and also sexist at worst.

Estrogen is not better than testosterone. Testosterone is not better than estrogen. It just matters what you want in your body.

What it may actually do is sometimes, people will experience a wide variety of emotions, including extreme euphoria and confidence (that's the effect I seem to have had, thankfully!)

Other people however will get very emotional and sad and will cry over things easier, and no, that's not an estrogen trait, testosterone can do that too.

And sometimes, on a rare occasion, people can get more irritable or cranky. But they're never violent.

They just get a little grumpier than usual.

However, all these emotional effects eventually do phase out and stabilize, and you'll be back to all your regular moods.

You never truly change who you are as an individual, and your beliefs and morals will stay the same.

It's not like you will completely change into a different person, you will never have to fear that, nor should any of your family and friends.

Myth #2. "Testosterone is steroids, right? So doesn't that mean that you're stronger than everyone else?"

This is a ridiculous notion, and I'm not even sure how it got spread im the first place, but I've heard it firsthand, and it's really as stupid as it sounds.

Testosterone is not steroids, they may have some similar properties due to chemical makeup, but they are not in any way steroids.

Steroids are an addictive & potentially harmful drug. Testosterone is a naturally occuring hormone that we all have some of.

For instance, testosterone also does not make you any more muscular just automatically.

It can make you a little more muscled subtly due to the muscle structure changing to that of a cis man's, but it can't straight up make you jacked, that's just not possible.

Also it does not make you any stronger than anyone else.

It might make you a little stronger than a cis female, but you are not stronger than a cis man, in fact you're weaker, due to starting out assigned female at birth.

I'm not sure why people assume that if you take testosterone, that means you're strong??

Because you're taking testosterone because you don't have any so clearly you don't have very much.

I'm not totally sure where this silly notion got spread, possibly as a way to make trans people feel guilty for taking T, by making them think it's a drug, and it's just not when you look at the facts.

It's good to dissuade folks who think this way, from this notion, as it can also make us look like drug addicts or on steroid pills, which both are just completely false.

Testosterone is not even addictive.

It's a natural hormone inside your body.

Myth #3. "Testosterone will give you all forms of cancer, and strokes and heart attacks, almost certainly!"

I'm not sure where or how this got spread either, it is true that it is possible, they said, in a scientific study, that they can't confirm completely that it could theoretically make your chances of stroke and heart attack a little higher due to your system basically changing to that of a cis man's, and going through a cis man's puberty.

But honestly, you have less risk of strokes and heart attacks than even cis men do, and you don't have a prostate which is a common location for men to get cancer, so you actually have an advantage over most!

It's very rare that you would ever come into contact with one of these things happening, pretty much as rare if a little less as it would be if you didn't take T at all.

There is also no evidence whatsoever that testosterone causes cancer, of any kind, let alone all of them.

A lot of people have tried to spread this rumour, to stop people from getting HRT treatment, which is really cruel and fucked up, and a lot of parents will use the "cancer" excuse as a way to not give their child HRT.

The truth is that it does not cause cancer, and that is a complete myth.

There's actually some evidence that being on T might improve your chances of fighting cancer, and having a stronger immune system for it as well.

Myth #4. This kind of goes along with the other one, but some people believe that "If you take testosterone, you could be shortening your lifespan by many years!!"

This is complete speculation, nothing has been confirmed.

It's possible, perhaps, that it could shorten your lifespan by a couple years, but not many.

You still would have an advantage over cis men again.

But it's never been truly proved that your lifespan gets shorter from T, so there is no reason to fear less of your life occuring just because you're trying to make yourself happier.

All right, I think that's all the rumours I can set straight, and all the info & advice about injections and medicine and general information about testosterone that I can give you at the moment.

I will update this post later, so please check back again in maybe a few month's time from now, as then I will have more effects to discuss.

But if I want to leave you with anything to think about,

remember that testosterone is a completely safe and natural chemical hormone that produces itself in your body already.

You just don't have enough of it to look the masculine way you want to.

It is not dangerous, it won't hurt you and if you really want it, go after it!!

But I would also very much advise you to be sure you want to go ahead with it, and that you are okay with all effects happening.

Because if you aren't, if you are even the least bit hesitant, not only will the doctor not allow you to proceed because you are not mentally fit to yet,

but also if you did end up taking testosterone then you could end up getting effects that you don't want, and having them be permanent, and causing you dysphoria for the rest of your life.

So please, make sure to know yourself well, and know your wants and needs clearly.

I also highly recommend having a psychiatrist or a mental health therapist for quite a while before going into testosterone therapy.

Not only does it make you more qualified to acquire testosterone because it shows you actually thought it through, but also it is exceedingly helpful for the mental and physical changes you will be proceeding with over these next years.

The last thing I want to say, my closing note, is congratulations on your testosterone, if you received it!

And I hope my guide helped in any way, and apologies if it ended up really long this time, there's a lot of things you need to know about T.

Thank you for reading, and I hope this humble trans guy's journal entries help you at all.

- Atom T. L. Yorke

#transgender guide #transgender tips #transgender #trans #ftm #trans male #trans man #trans boy #trans guy #transmasculine #lgbtqa #testosterone #testosterone hormones #hrt #trans guy tips

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madlymiho · 5 years

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Oh my sweet god, this request pleases me SO MUCH! That's frankly an awesome idea, plus this is the first time I'm able to write about Whitebeard!

Double win for the WONDERFUL IDEA! 💖

Hope this will suit you, my darling <3!!

Words : 2195

Warning : Graphic Depictions of Violence

Special give away

Crocodile x Whitebeard : Youth (read after the cut)

Crocodile is 17 years old. He’s seated on the docks of an arbor in the New World, biting furiously in an apple he has just stolen. His lazy stare is focus on the waves made by the sea, gently licking the stones, digging holes in them because of the salt. He feels some curious eyes on him, probably because there’s a puddle of blood behind him, and a man lied down, already dead, apples and other fruits scattered on the ground. Well, he’s used to it now. He doesn’t really care about their concerned gazes and the numerous whispers he hears when he walks in town. Plus, there’s something, at the edge of his vision, sailing in the sea, which catches his curiosity. A massive ship he has once heard about, but never seen yet. As he takes another bite from his apple, he stands back up, removing the dirt from his clothes by a simple swipe of his hand.

“Sails!” A sailor suddenly yells from a pontoon. “Whitebeard flag!”

Crocodile raises an eyebrow, feeling a sort of excitement to witness Whitebeard and his crew for the first time in his life. He has heard many legends about this pirate, well known for his violence, his supremacy, but also his strength, capable of destroying his enemies by a simple movement of his halberd. A giant, feared by many men, to the point that no one would ever try to harm him.

For a young man who has never admired anyone in his entire life, Whitebeard feels like a salvation. Finally, someone is able to wear the crown of the Seas, and bends everyone to his will, respected and honored by the pirates of the world. It’s a beautiful dream, even for a murderous 17 years old teenager. A dream that slowly turns into an obsession; watch Whitebeard assumption… Until Crocodile would be strong enough to steal it from him, after a few years of reign he would allow.

***

He tears the newspaper inside his large hands, unable to focus on anything else than the big title of the today’s news. He has never been truly betrayed before, mostly because he has never trusted anyone. He’s wary. Always profoundly tormented by his dramatic childhood and his lack of tenderness back then. It doesn’t really bother him anyway; Crocodile, now twenty years old, appreciate his cold heart and his capacity to turn his feelings down, more able to protect himself from his enemies. He doesn’t care who he hurts on his assumption to the power; all he wants is to crush everyone on his way, no matter how strong they are. He will always be stronger.

When Crocodile crossed Whitebeard’s way, things have changed forever for the 17 years old man. Despite his ferocious will to destroy everything on his way, Whitebeard has been quite a shock for him. Taller, smarter, stronger; Whitebeard seemed to be the perfect candidate to reach the glorious title of the Pirate King. At least, that was what Crocodile believed for a long time. Whitebeard was the perfect pretender to the throne; ruthless, powerful, untamed. For a while, Crocodile has developed a sort of obsession for the man, searching for some information inside the newspapers, hoping secretly to see that man achieving his dream. Fact is, Crocodile doesn’t really appreciate Gold D. Roger, already back then, and even more today. Not because that he doesn’t think he’s not worthy, but perhaps because he has placed his hopes in Whitebeard assumption, and Roger felt only as a threat for his young cognac eyes.

Yes Crocodile is a complicated man. He’s a loner; capable of handle his business on his own, detesting people’s presence in his life, to the point that he’s already well known among the pirates world as someone dangerous. Whitebeard’s crew has always been wary when Crocodile has erupted in their lives, his lazy stare looking at them with some sufficiency, while he has settled a few deals with the old pops, mostly because he wanted his business to thrive in the New World. Crocodile has only accepted Whitebeard’s presence in his life, because he trusted him. He trusted him enough to take the control of the world, and one day, offer him the crown of the pirate world as his legitimate legacy.

“Fucking Roger…,” Crocodile hisses, throwing the newspaper away, his eyes nothing but a fire of hatred. “Fucking Whitebeard!”

Crocodile, despite his good manners, can’t control his words at the moment. He has never been so angry with someone before. It feels like an awful burning inside his chest, something he can’t truly understand. Roger is the Pirate King. Roger dominates the New World. After all those everlasting battles between the two of them, Roger won, and it irritates the young man. Angrily, Crocodile throws the newspaper away, his eyes gazing at the smiling face of the new king of the world. His vision goes blurry, acid tears rolling on his cheeks, as he hates himself even more for reacting this way. Whitebeard will pay; and he will pay fully.

***

Revenge. Revenge. Revenge.

It turns in his head like a poisoning tune, unable to let him sleep at night while his eyes are focus on the ceiling of his room. How could he hurt him? How put a permanent scar on Whitebeard’s face. Face? No. Deeper. Something much deeper. Somewhere he has never been touched yet, in the depth of his chest, where his heart remains, only living because of the love of his sons. Crocodile suddenly freezes, his eyes gleaming in the darkness of the room, a devilish plan blooming inside his head. There’s only one way to hurt Whitebeard, to the point that he wouldn’t ever forget it. Only one way to mark his soul with his claws, while Whitebeard will suffer forever from his betrayal. A bestial grin grows on Crocodile, as he can’t remain lied in his bed, feeling the urge to stand back up and act. He needs to prepare himself, and to chase the good prey to settle his trap and eventually succeed in his evil plan.

Yes. Crocodile is young. Young, but also reckless. He has been able to manipulate many men until now, leading them to chaotic situations where he was the only one to have all the cards in his hands. He’s confident, perhaps a bit too much, surely because of his certain power, and his silent madness which tells him to destroy this old man.

***

“Let me go…,” the man growls, unable to speak, blood coming out of his many wounds.

“Certainly not.” Crocodile answers, cleaning his blade, a wicked grin plastered on his lips.

It’s dark and cold; there are no stars in the sky, only a long trail of dark clouds, sometimes enlightened by furious thunders. It has been many months since Gold D. Roger has been declared as the Pirate King. Many months were Crocodile’s anger has only grew bigger. He has tracked Whitebeard all around the world, sometimes crossing his way, his cognac eyes meeting the big pops dangerous stare, while he has been much more wary, calling off all of his business with the young reptile. Crocodile knows that he wasn’t really discreet; but that was a part of the plan. He wanted Whitebeard to know that he was after him; that someone is this world would dare to harm him. Being close from the Moby Dick has been the perfect opportunity to find his prey. He could have picked any of Whitebeard’s sons, but Crocodile wanted the weakest among them; too young to die or suffer in the eyes of the fallen pretender of the pirate crown.

“My fa… My father!” the young man desperately groans. “He’s… He’s Whitebeard…He’s going to kill you, bastard…”

Crocodile looks down, his stare impatient and emotionless.

“Shut up.” He only answers, while he squats down to catch the boy by his collar. “I know who’s your father, idiot. I’m not afraid of him.”

The Whitebeard’s apprentice laughs, but it only sounds like guttural gurgling.

“You’re even more stupid than you seem to be. At least I’m dying… But you…” The man coughs and spits more blood, his face blank and his forehead covered with sweat. “He’s going to make you suffer… you will beg him to stop...”

This last comment gets under Crocodile’s skin, to the point that he vividly gets his blade hung at his hip and sticks into the young man’s chest before he could speak anymore.

Instantly, Crocodile hears a burning paper sound coming from the man’s pocket, and before he can understand what’s happening, he senses a presence behind him. All his instincts tell him to move, but his body is paralyzed by a radiant fear he can’t control. There’s this impressive aura, someone truly furious, using a Haki he has never encountered before, at least, not that powerful. Crocodile pinches his lips together, finding an impossible mental strength to eventually spin his hips, and face the unknown person behind his back.

Taller than two men, bigger than a ship, Whitebeard overlooks him, his raging stare locked on Crocodile’s young features. In one of his hand, he holds a grey powder, the remainings of the ashes of the boy’s Vivre Card. In the other one, Whitebeard clenches his powerful fist around his halberd. Crocodile doesn’t need to speak to know what are his intentions; he can feel it in the air around him. And before Crocodile can jump and avoid it, he feels a soft breeze brushing his cheeks, a blade flashing in front of his eyes, right before he widens them, numbed by a monumental pain, his face burning, something hot and sticky leaking from his face. Crocodile falls on his knees, his brain almost hurting him, trapped by this awful sensation that he’s losing his face, his skin tears and hanging on his features. He pats his cheeks, with timid gestures, trying to pull himself together, but all he can see is the blood plastered on his hands.

Hands. No. Not anymore.

Crocodile can’t even scream, but the pain is here. He lowers his gaze, his eyes burning, tears coming down on his cheeks while he doesn’t know how to react. He blinks, several times, looking at his missing hand, all shriveled on the floor, drops of blood dripping on her pale and grey skin. His wrist is hurting him so much, his heart pumping hard through his missing veins, squirt of scarlet liquid soiling the floor, the sensation of his hand still present, even if there’s nothing but this emptiness now.

“Who do you think you are in this world, kiddo?” Whitebeard snarls, his voice echoing in the middle of the night, as if God itself is standing in front of him.

Crocodile shivers, barely able to keep his balance, his mind incoherent, full of pain and impatience, unable to know if it’s real or just a terrible nightmare. He looks up, fighting this intense nausea wrenching his stomach, his only hand circling his forearm with all his strength, trying his best to create a tourniquet.

“I’m…I’m…,” Crocodile, for once, can’t even finish his sentence.

Speaking feels very painful, the impressive wound crossing his face bleeding out, blood but also tears filling his mouth, soiling his clothes from his shirt to his pants. Crocodile closes his eyes for a moment; weak, and terribly defeated.

“Yes. You’re no one.” Whitebeard continues, his voice severe, full of anger, like a raging tempest threatening Crocodile’s head. “You’re not even a man anymore. You’re an animal. Nothing but an animal.”

Whitebeard uses the wooden bottom of his weapon to violently punch Crocodile in his stomach, making the man instantly vomit on the floor. He clicks his tongue, his gaze looking at that desperate little creature, all curled up on itself, afraid to the core. Crocodile has never been so pitiful.

“I’ll tell you what, kiddo. You better hurry and leave my ocean,” Whitebeard threats, spinning his halberd in his hand, so he can force Crocodile to lift his head up with the tip of his blade, putting it under his chin, looking at him in the eyes. “The New World. I rule it. And if I ever find you here, I won’t only take one of your hand this time, kiddo.” Whitebeard states, the tip of his blade opening another wound under Crocodile’s chin. “Now, anytime you will look at yourself in the mirror, you will remember that you can’t come here anymore. I have thousands of allies, dozens of islands. I will track you down if you ever cross Red Line again, and you’d wish to be dead at the second I’ll lay my hand on you. Mark my words, kiddo, and spread them wherever you go. I’m not killing you because stupid enemies like you need to understand a lesson. I might not be the king of the New World, but I’m your worst nightmare, Crocodile.”

Crocodile gulps, trudging in his own blood, feeling desperately so little under Whitebeard’s stare. He wanted to challenge the king. He wanted to gain the crowd.

But today, Crocodile is nothing but a crying handless child.

#one piece headcanons #one piece scenario #sir crocodile #crocodile one piece #whitebeard #edward newgate #one piece imagine #one piece hcs #one piece headers

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renegadesrpg · 3 years

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Dark Angels: Creation Part 39. Ripples. Sean, Zav, Adrian, Bryn

Sean: *After saying my temporary goodbye to Layla I’d misted out and reformed in the dining room of the Brazil house. Out of a caution that was rapidly becoming ingrained I hovered in the half-world rather than rematerializing directly into room. Any place warded should be safe, but I was on edge. We all were. Still, all was well here. No sign of Bryn, but Adrian and Zav had finished setting the table up for our meeting and were engaged in a good-natured bickering that masked anxiety on Zav’s part and impatience to get on with the battle on Adrian’s. I understood both feelings. I wanted this done, but I had a nagging sense of worry over Layla’s plan to go to Sanctuary. Reaching out with my senses, I catch the edge of Bryn’s mood. My gift is better up close and personal, but if it’s someone I’ve got a connection with I can generally get what they’re feeling. In Bryn’s case ‘edge’ was the best word. Her emotions were as sharp as the blade of a well-honed knife, focused and intense. I get a sense of satisfaction from her, but there’s an underlying coldness of purpose and not a little grim, and very feline, pleasure. Like she’s about to play with her prey. I’m going to have to find out what that’s all about but for the moment I content myself with stepping into the mortal world and casually asking,*

What’s a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?

Adrian: “You know, you have to think with the big head during this fight angel-puss.”

Ribbing Zav has always been a piece of cake. The nearly 7-foot tall angel has always been the most easy going of us and he likes to laugh, even at himself.” The little head will get you killed…what?” Materializing my sword in my hand as I whip around just in time to see Sean leaning against the doorjamb with his armed crossed. With a huff I send my sword back to my room.

“Watch it brother. You could get hurt sneaking up on a guy that way.”

Zav: *Snorting at Adrian as I step up beside him and elbow him in the ribs…* Be glad he’s here. He just saved you a beating. *Yes, I’ve got a sense of humor but not about Truely. I wouldn’t really have punched him, but I’m not above putting a snake in his bed. Can’t kill him but the guy has never liked reptiles and nobody likes feeling something slither up their leg in the night.*

Adrian: Tilting my head at Zav… “You think you can take me, angel-puss?”

Zav: *Giving him a dark smile…* In a heartbeat, soldier boy.

Sean: *pushing off the doorframe and holding my hands out…*

Down, boys. Save the machismo for the fight. I take it Sin’s not here yet? I wonder what’s keeping him.

Adrian: “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” Shrugging. “Accountability for his actions is way above my paygrade. He’s spent over 35 millennia doing his own thing, his own way. I just follow along for the ride.

Zav: *I get where Adrian is coming from. Even as an angel my power pales against Sin’s. Magicks may come to me more easily because, after all, an angel /is/ the embodiment of ethereal magick, but power is a different animal. The Horseman gave Sin raw, immortal power equal only to his own. Power the Creator had bestowed on Him because balance required that even the Creator had to have an equal force to weigh against. The Creator had relied on the innate respect between equals to keep the balance between them. And then, sighing internally, Lucifer had whispered in the Horseman’s ear and here we were.

But the creation of Sin as Death’s First had been inevitable. As a human, Sin had drawn mortal power to him like bees to flowers. He’d been at once compassionate and ruthless, poet and warrior. He’d gone from enslaved child to warlord by drawing the powerful to him and building on it, and at the age of 17 he’d instigated a slave rebellion and turned it into a powerful army that gave his enemies only two options – ally with him or die. That Death had been drawn to him and enlisted him had come as no surprise. Neither did the fact that Sin was now going to teach him the same lessons he’d taught to many mortal men of power – that you only get to wield power so long as you aren’t corrupted by it and you only get to keep what you can hold. Being part of turning him into that being was something I’d never anticipated when I’d been placed on Earth.

When the Grigori had been created, the Creator had selectively assigned us earthly homes that would enable us to teach humanity, help it to grow and mature. It had been no coincidence that I’d been directed to Sumer while Sin was still only a child. The Fates were already in play. And though the Creator had given us all the “speech” about assisting humanity to grow, we’d all known that the reality was El Shaddai had screwed up his creation and the Creator had been forced to make a whole new class of angel to fix it and plant us on Earth. But I hadn’t been “assigned” to Sin, or told to watch out for an 8-year-old slave boy. Angels still had free will. We still had to make our choices and live by them. And, like everyone else, I’d been drawn to something in him that I couldn’t resist.

Though Sin had initially thought I was simply an artisan and teacher, which I had been, I’d realized early on that he needed a guide for whatever it was within him that was such a magnet to people with even the least bit of authority. Even as a boy, he’d been canny, but the kind of talent he possessed could have gone either way as an adult. I’d watched him learn to use that combination of intelligence and charisma and played my part to make sure he used it for a purpose greater than himself. His education had to be done covertly, as had developing his fighting skills, but I succeeded in both and I’d instilled in him the principles of duty that had helped to mold the character that had made the man and had later defined his kingship. But the ability to wield and control the power he gained, to turn all he was to creating a great kingdom and a human paradise, had come from his own mortal heart, just as it now came from his immortal one.

My “paygrade” had long ago been surpassed by Sin but our friendship had endured. When he’d come to reap me after El Shaddai regained control of the heavenly realms and decided the Grigori had to die, Sin had been surprised to find out what I really was. But it hadn’t mattered. He’d looked at the blood on the ground, at my wife, my son, my unborn daughter and only said “Come with me, old friend. I will not take you to the long sleep of angels. You shall be one of mine and we will walk as comrades-in-arms once again. And perhaps, if the Fates are kind, you will find them once more.” For that alone, I’d die for him. Permanently this time. That the Fates would choose this time to put Kalare back into my life was ironic. I have the feeling the Fates are big on irony. But it could also be with a purpose. When going into a fight like this it helps to have something to live for besides yourself, and now I’ve got that. I wish Sin did as well. Winning wasn’t all this was about. We needed him to help rebuild the corps and restore the balance and I’m not sure he sees that. But maybe the Fates are making a run at him too…*

I’ve felt a few ripples in the Aetheric plane. It happens when somebody is using big magick on it and he’s one of only a handful that can. He’s probably doing a little recon on the potential outcomes of our next moves. You know he has a special relationship with the Fates. *shrugging* They like him and he’s never been shy about using that to get inside intel. And they aren’t above using him to get what they want either. So Sin being late could be a good thing. If it was anything bad Declan would have called.

Adrian: Nodding, “See Sean? Nothing to worry about. Just Sin being Sin. Meanwhile, you still want a drink? I’ll get us a some beers.”

Turning towards the kitchen, I make a hasty, yet graceful, exit. It’s not that I don’t want to be around Sean, but he’s leaking anxiety and it feels wrong. Normally he’s the one literally absorbing all of ours. Nothing that he’s personally feeling ever leaks out. His normal M.O. is to exude these calming vibes that keep the rest of us on an even keel. And not just to the three of us. His gift is powerful. Even though Sin forbade him to use it to actively heal, keeping that part of it bottled up just means the energy has to go somewhere else and it flows down through the entire corp, although we’d found that the Horseman’s fourth column had been immunized against it. It pays him to keep his thugs on edge and angry. But thousands of us get that warming, soothing, calming vibe, Sean puts out. Unfortunately, that’s nowhere to be found right now and /that’s/ worrisome because if he’s projecting anxiety to me, that’s also leaking down to the corps. Right now we need our people, both fighters and noncombatants, to be confident and we /don’t/ need the rogues to get a whiff of any weakness.

Sean: Provided Declan is still able to call.

*Ok, that came out a little sour and a lot pessimistic. Not what we need and it’s not really Sin I’m worried about anyway. He said he’d be here and here is where he’ll be when he’s finished whatever he’s doing. If he really needed help we’re all just a thought away and we’re too close to the end now for him not to reach out if he ran into something he needed back-up on. As Adrian disappeared into the kitchen, I cleared my throat and tried again.*

But you’re probably right. I’ve just got things on my mind.

Zav: Clearly. *raising an eyebrow at him – yeah, Sin learned that from me.* You want to fill us in?

Sean: *Shaking my head* It’s nothing. I’ll get it worked out. I just need to refocus.

Adrian: Returning from the kitchen with three longnecks just in time to catch Sean’s weak denial, I snort

“Try again. It’s definitely something and if we’re feeling it from you, you can bet the troops are too. Anything that keeps us, as an army, from being confident is something that’s mission critical to resolve at this juncture. So,” tossing him a beer then handing one to Zav, “Spill it.”

Sean: *Frowning as I catch the bottle and twist off the top, I lift it to my lips, then take a seat at the table and set it in front of me.*

How much do you guys know about Sanctuary? Any of us ever been there that you know of?

Adrian: Layla. Of course. Taking a seat across from Sean, I answer.

“Not much. I’ve never been there. You, Zav?

Zav: *Sitting at down beside Adrian, I shake my head.*

Nope. So far as I know none of us has been. Maybe Sin. If he wants in somewhere, he generally finds a way, but the closest any of us have been to it is the door to The Fade. That’s the way the Scribe Virgin wanted it. We’re allowed to help any soul that wants to move on but for some reason isn’t able to find the door to The Fade on their own but it’s not like the other planes. We never try to go past the door. To go to Sanctuary is even more of an intimate intrusion. It would be like trying to enter Freya’s or Danu’s bedchamber – not impossible, but by special invitation only. It’s where the deity lives. Or lived. I hear she’s not in charge anymore. You said Layla’s going there to wait out the battle. What’s got you worried?

Sean: *sighs* What’s got me worried is that it’s been breached before and not even by immortals. By vampires. Simple vampires. And Layla was kidnapped and held captive for years after that breach. The Horseman’s boys know my female is a vampire and if they know that, they may know she’s a Chosen. What’s to keep them from invading Sanctuary if we fail? Hell, what’s to keep them from invading just to distract me at a critical moment. Because, let me tell you, that would be damned effective! And yes, I’ve heard that about the SV, too, and so far as I can find out the new guy hasn’t taken residence yet so Layla will be unprotected.

Adrian: Thoughtfully taking a long drink, then setting the bottle down….

“They can’t know she’s a Chosen. Can they? She’s been pretty much earthbound since you’ve known her hasn’t she? And even if she hasn’t, would a witches’ scrying mirror be able to track her there? I mean Sanctuary may not be warded against us but it /is/ a deity’s quarters. The Scribe Virgin must have instituted /some/ precautions after that invasion.

Sean: I don’t know…*exploding and slamming my fist on the table* That’s the problem… I just DON’T KNOW!

Bryn: *I rematerialize in the doorway to the dining room just in time to hear Sean explode and shout.*

Don’t know what?

*Striding to the table and laying the simple oaken box in front of Zav, I murmur into his ear,* All Truely has to do is look in the mirror and say “Show me Zav” and she can see you. It’s also connected to a mirror in Tir Nan Og, to Danu, but the spell’s more complicated since I didn’t have any of Danu’s blood to work with when I initially made the mirror. The spell’s inscribed inside the lid, in case you ever need it. Danu said she’d be watching and she’d get Truely herself if the battle goes against us. So don’t worry about your lady, ok? She’s as safe as any of us can make her.

*Straightening up, I turn and put my hands on my hips and look at Sean.* So what is it you need to find out? Witches have ways, you know.

Zav: *Gratefully I take the box from Bryn and crack the lid just enough to see the faint blue light glowing from the in scripted runes and I immediately recognize my own grace. That’s how she did it so easily. She must have had a little of my grace left to infuse in the mirror. Gently letting the lid drop back in place, I smile up at her.*

Thank you, little sister. I owe you. And Sean’s worried about how safe Sanctuary really is in these circumstances. None of us have been there and we don’t know its defenses.

Sean: *Nodding at Zav’s explanation*

It’s been breached before. Being a deity’s home should make it demon proof but reapers? We can go anywhere. *getting agitated all over again* The /rogues/ can go anywhere!

Bryn: So ward it. *shrugs* Shouldn’t be that hard. There’s only one entry point.

Adrian: Eyeing the reaper-witch warily… “And you know this how?”

Bryn: *Huffing a sigh* What, you guys think women don’t talk? *Then I have to take pity on their slack-jawed amazement.*

Females talk. And when bad things happen to them, they /talk/a/lot/. I heard about Sanctuary’s breach. I contacted Analisse and asked her what I could do, short of reaping a few bad boy vampires. You know the Horseman has us on a leash and interfering with mortal chaos is a no-no but I thought I might be able to do /something/. And I wasn’t the only one. Some of the other goddesses reached out, too, but the Scribe Virgin is, was, and always will be, about balance. She said the loss of the Primale and many of Sanctuary’s treasures, was the price she had to pay for becoming lax in her attentions to the race. She wouldn’t allow me to do anything, even to tell Sin, who /didn’t/ have the Horseman’s leash around his neck. Don’t look at me like that Sean, *seeing his outrage growing as he comprehended I’d known,* She also didn’t tell us that anyone had been taken. I doubt even her stubborn adherence to “balance” would have kept Freya from going and getting your female or Danu from healing her. I can only assume that Analisse had her reasons.

Sean: SON OF A BITCH! *Slamming my fists on the table as I leapt to my feet* She had options? She could have GOTTEN LAYLA OUT? *I had never in my long life wanted to hit a female, let alone murder a deity, but right now, if I could get my hands on the Scribe Virgin, all bets were off. *

SHE KNEW there was a way to rescue Layla and she didn’t take advantage of it?

Bryn: *Tilting my head and cautiously reaching my hand out to lay it on his shoulder* I don’t think she thought of it that way. You know how rigid she is, how strictly she adheres to her own rules. In her mind there wasn’t a way because it interfered with balance and free-will. She wouldn’t have considered breaking them for her own needs when she won’t break them for anyone else’s.

Sean: Layla didn’t have “free will”! *shrugging off Bryn’s hand,* She didn’t choose to go with them, to be sold into slavery, to be tortured for a hundred years! Gods dammit, why should the bastards who took her have the right to make choices when she didn’t? Where’s the fairness in that? Where’s the balance!

Bryn: *Stepping back from him, I give him the space he needs. Sometimes a female’s touch isn’t as consoling as firm logic.*

Layla is a Chosen. Her entire existence was to be in service of the race. Her entire life was to be a sacrifice to it. Maybe Annalise considered this part of that service, because what happened to her has sealed the fate of those who took her and those who later bought and tortured her. Not only will they go to Dhunhd, as the kidnappers already have, but they’ll go very unpleasantly. Because, Sean, when you find them, you won’t let them die easy. And that will have ripples. It will be a warning that the Scribe Virgin could not have given herself and retained her role as the race’s deity, elevated above the mortal fray, at least not in her view. A warning that Death comes hard for those who break the balance between the worlds, whether by act or by benefiting from that act. A warning that no single act is isolated, that it is part of a chain that will eventually come back to you. Because Layla was taken and sold, Layla was on Earth, not in Sanctuary. Because Layla was on Earth, she met you. Because she met you, the bastards who bought and tortured her will die horribly. Because you won’t be discreet – no, you won’t, don’t even go there, Sean, *as he starts to protest*. I know you too well. You’re generally a very level person, but I know you won’t consider simply taking their lives to be justice. SIN won’t consider it enough. And neither will any of us, *looking around the table at Zav and Adrian’s stony faces* and because we’re going to be the ones with your back in this, we’re going to make sure all the gory details get to the right places. Layla’s sacrifice will become a warning to any mortal or immortal who thinks he or she can screw with deities or their homes. I sincerely doubt the new deity will have an issue with it. He’s got bigger problems on his hands right now, anyway. Like learning how to BE one for starters.

And there was one other repercussion of Layla’s kidnapping. Because of it, the Scribe Virgin confined entry to Sanctuary through one portal. One that you can ward.

Adrian: Quietly, I go to Sean’s other side and place a hand on his shoulder. This one he doesn’t shrug off, which is good. It tells me he’s coming to terms with it.

“Brother, what happened to Layla was an atrocity. The horror of it is,” shaking my head, “almost impossible to comprehend. But we’ve all lived a long time. We know what mortals are capable of. Hell, we know what immortals are capable of. Evil lives. We know it. Layla lived it. If you get the chance, you can take it up with the Fates for putting those choices in front of those males. But we can’t go backwards and change things. Only forward. So we make what she went through mean something. First, we take on the evil in our world. Then we take on the evil in hers. And we use what she gave us. We ward Sanctuary.

Zav: *It feels odd to be the one helping Sean to find his way through something. He’s the one that always helps us. But to be able to do that for him, especially right now, just binds us tighter together. Rising from my chair, I go to his other side and place my hand on his other shoulder. Leveling my deep brown eyes on his clear blue ones,*

I’ll teach you the warding and I’ll give you enough of my grace to be able to ward the entrance. You’ll do it in the half-world where it’ll float on the air, the way I warded the mountain. If we lose, no place will be permanently safe, but between Sanctuary being a deity plane, my grace, and the ethereal magicks inherent in the warding spell, it will hold a long time. Maybe long enough for another uprising to happen. It’s the best we’ve got.

Sean: *They’re right. All of them. I can’t change the past and without that past, the present… my present, Layla and I… wouldn’t exist. The Fates do things their way and maybe they let it happen to put Layla in my path. Or maybe finding each other was to help balance what she went through. I’ll never know. Maybe Sin can ask, but I doubt they’d tell him. They only seem to tell him what they think he should know. With a sigh, I nod.*

Thank you. *looking at Bryn* All three of you. Normally, I’m more in control.

Bryn: *Smiling a little* It’s understandable. I wasn’t happy when I found out Annalise had kept it from us either, but we have limits to what we can do. And now while Zav is teaching you how to ward, I’m going to borrow Adrian. We’re going witch hunting.

#TBC

#Renegade #RRPG #DarkAngelsCreation #Ripples #AU #BDB #Reapers #Angels #Vampires #Wolfen #Ghosts

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sparkycanteven · 6 years

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Riverdale Unpacked

Finally figured out a title for my weekly Riverdale commentary! :D

- I snoozed during the opening scene, I’m sorry the whole campaigning thing was boring. Who gives an actual fuck?

- I woke up when Veronica said she was being courted by Mob Princes... and I sooo wished like fuck that this would suddenly take a Jeronica turn, but I realize that the writers are gonna waste this opportunity and lamented. Oh well, there’s always @pembrokebitch ‘s fanfics!!!

- “Going around house to house to stare into men’s eyes? That sounds like looking for a needle in a haystack.” no, that sounds like what they used to do in the days before Grindr, Hiram. Taken out of context that quote is really weird.

- Sorry kinda snoozed through the convo about making his bones whatevs I do not care I am not here for Mafia Archie.

- Wait, what is that I smell? A stumble in the Bughead dynamic? Jug didn’t believe her when she said her Dad could be the Black Hood, didn’t even take her seriously, just sorta walked off... there’s blood in the water. Fuckin’ A, YES.

- “Dear cousin, you look harrowed!” ... and “Wherefore?” also “Heed my hard learned advice” and “tread carefully, cousin” you been reading Jane Austen, Cheryl? I don’t really know what to think of the style of Cheryl’s dialogue, but I’m oddly here for it? No character really talks like that in this town, so, it’s interesting to hear a character talk more eloquently. (Wouldn’t that be cute? Cheryl and Toni reading Jane Austen together? Awww! C’mon Riverdale writers, stick it in!)

- So self-consciously, Cheryl knew that her Dad was capable of Jason’s murder? Makes me wonder what the hell else that kid witnessed. Poor Cheryl.

- Yawn, Alpha Male Aggression Display. Wait, did anyone notice that Reggie’s way too fired up over this? Sure, Moose was hurt by her confession that she’d been seeing a serpent but he wasn’t over the top aggressive like Reggie was. That makes me suspicious... was he doing Midge too? I mean, she was into Polyamory and all.

- “Which one you reptiles was screwing Midge Klump?”

“I get why she wouldn’t want fleas from you mangy bulldogs.”

Dahahaha, it made ME laugh. ;D Good dialogue!

- What the fuck about the mob bosses sons... this was a weird little foray into the underworld and I suspect not at al the way things actually work. Though, gotta admire my girl V for putting the new ‘meat’ through their paces with ‘interviews’ lol. Good girl. (Also Elio is kinda hot.)

- “The muckraker, the troublemaker.” this line made me roll my eyes. No, Jug is not a troublemaker. Good Lord.

- WHAT THE FUCK ARCHIE YOU GAVE AWAY YOUR HAND TO A MOB BOSS’S SON?! You are stupid as hell!!!

- The Cooper and Blossom detective agency? This is an interesting angle that I wouldn’t have thought to take. I kinda like this.

- I dunno if I can get behind Cheryl’s deadpan reaction about Chic, but seeing as she didn’t really know him and probably didn’t want to garner unwanted attention from the Coopers, then yeah okay, I guess it makes sense. However an indignant “What?!” would’ve said it all at Betty’s confession.

- Midge must’ve been a hot commodity around Riverdale High for FP to make the comment “Of all the girl in Riverdale.” ah well, she was a cheerleader so I guess there’s that currency? I dunno considering she had barely been mentioned before this it just strikes me as kind of odd.

- I like the way Jug’s trying to take responsibility for the gang and is starting to treat them as family rather than some weird, extended relatives he’d never really wanted.

- Oh noez, Fred is being threatened by he Black Hood. Seriously, WTF did Fred do? He ain’t have to die!

- I’m sorry Betty but what you sellin’, I ain’t buyin’. Where was all this remorse when you were actually turning Chic over to the Black Hood? Where was the conflict then? No you were just mad cuz he tried to swing on your boytoy, that’s all. Now shit’s gotten real for you. -_-;

- “If he’s dead then that makes me an accomplice to murder and I think I’m okay with that.” what the fuck kind of dinner table confession is that?!

- “I don’t know what to say Betty” INAPPROPRIATE REACTION, ALICE!!! As a Mom I’d think you’d be horrified, not... just simply shocked. You at like Betty is just dropping one of her extra-curriculars, not confessing to a crime... what the hell?!

- I don’t even know what to make of her Dad’s reaction.

- Look at Hal’s eyes closely guys, *in my Maury Povich voice* He is NOT the Black Hood!”

Originally posted by desingyouruniverse

- Who the hell leaked the video footage of Midge and Fangs?

- Gotta admire our boy Jug for trying to get Fangs to a safe place before the freakin’ lynch mob found him.

- Archie, put down your bat and go to bed.

- WAR DOGS? Did they seriously go “arf” at the end of that scene?! Seriously?! I don’t blame Jug for being mad. How juvenile can you be, slashing tires and setting dumpsters on fire? What the fuck! Hiram Lodge is paying for the Dark Circle now??? Holy shit. Archie what the FUCK have you done!

- Cheryl uses the same color nailpolish my Mom did... ;o; Awww. Again, I am liking the whole Blossom/Cooper detective agency angle. Cheryl needed a friend and Betty needs a healthier relationship than the one she has with Jug.

- Our girl V did all the work and Hiram shut her down??? COME ON NOW!!! And then HIRAM PUT THE MONEY IN A TRUST SO SHE COULDN’T DO HER CASINO YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK YOU HIRAM WHO IS YOU BITCH!!!!

- So Betty’s Dad can’t be the Black Hood... he really can’t. He was there comforting Betty while the Black Hood took pot shots at everybody in Town Hall, and it can’t be her Mom because her Mom was hiding behind a podium, it’s not FP. It’s not Chic because he was a possible victim of the dude. So that leaves Claudius Blossom because he’s way too fucking quiet for his own good.

- I love how Fred just let Veronica in and let her go bang his son on a school night. I mean, sure she’s gonna back him in the election but that is a helluva way to say thank you. “Thanks for your support, here, you can bang my son all night!”

- Gotta say, this is the best acting I’ve seen Cole Sprouse do in awhile. I mean, it’s the most convincing, the most roused I’ve seen Jug since Season 1 and there’s been quite a few reasons for Jug to raise his voice and he hasn’t. I mean maybe that’s just his character but that monotone voice kills me in every fucking scene. Come on, Jug. GET SOME SPIRIT EMOBOI!

- What the hell is Betty doing with a gun? And who exactly SHOT Fangs? Was it Reggie? Was Archie too late? (BTW good job Archie on the whole bodyguard run, my man.) Did Betty have a secret deal with Daddy to take somebody out? Or was it the Black Hood? RIP Fangs, we barely knew thee. Hopefully you were reunited with Midge in the afterlife... God, poor Fangs though... he was so scared and crying and then to go out like that anyway?! Where the hell was the rest of the police force when he was being led out! A group of high school boys ain’t gonna do the trick, Sheriff, he needed an armed guard himself! I CALL DISCRIMINATION!!! :P

- WHAT THE FUCK YOU HAVE AGAINST MY GIRL CHERYL, BLACK HOOD?! SQUARE UP, BITCH!

#riverdale #black hood theories #claudius blossom #RIP Fangs Fogarty

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ephemeralem0tions · 7 years

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So I have posted the second chapter for Thumbelevi on archive! I plan to update at least once and at most twice a week just incase some of you are wondering. I’m very happy to have recieved positive feedback lately on this very first levihan fic of mine so a massive THANK YOU to everyone who had read it so far! *hearts for everyone*. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the new chapter :)

Chapter 2: We Wage War

Hanji’s POV

She had finally laid down her stress after three days of constantly going back and forth from her lab to her room experimenting, analyzing, writing, trashing, and repeat. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she wrote down the final report she would submit to Erwin.

As much as she hated to admit it, nothing really changed after all the researching she had done for at most a week. The promising benefits of marijuana were still out weighed by the hazards it brought. Although she would love to see cancer potentially getting cured by the plant, she’d rather not have druggies fleeing all over the city, waging war or making the streets a nudist bar when they aren’t in their right minds.

She bound the papers together and stood up to make her way to her superior’s office. Her Job was indeed something she loved but sometimes, it gets a bit frustrating when results aren’t much fruitful. She had worked in the plant and animal research lab ever since she was twenty one and continuously till she’s thirty. It came with all the benefits such as her very own lab, a room to stay, and meals to eat thrice a day. She also had the leisure to travel every time she wished to as long as it would be for the purpose of upholding a specimen. What she loved the most was the knowledge she gained on each project that was thrown to her. She had successfully found fifteen new species of insects, seventeen plants, and eight fish. This made her to be regarded as the smartest person that had ever stepped on the laboratory. Aside from the amazing feat, she had also been responsible for finding out that mangoes and strawberries could be made into wine if fermented making the wealthy set eyes not only on her but the whole lab.

Those discoveries were made about three years ago she sighed. Recently, she had not done a project that provided positive results. It bored her to only prove if a rumor is farce or true and would love to dig into the issues much deeper, but she could not gain support lately. Aside from all the risks Erwin saw, funding was also scarce for the lab at the moment. The higher ups would rather direct the taxes collected for the lab and soldiers to their pockets. Expeditions outside the border would become shorter until eventually, it stopped. She yearned for more information she could muster, more facts she could learn, and perhaps share to the society if it was beneficial.

Her trance was soon ended by her nose collapsing unto hard wood which she recognized to be the director’s door. She picked up her glasses that fell down on the floor only to notice that the right lens had cracked due to the fall. She really needed to replace them soon, now if permitted.

She placed the broken specs on her pocket and knocked on the door which was opened by her colleague, Mike. He was a tall shaggy blonde who had been very helpful thanks to his sniffing skills. She had always joked that he could replace a K9 dog if he wanted while he would only smile at her. His job was to secure the place of any danger as he could already smell them before they even happened. Chemical spill, burns, gas leaks, name it and Mike could probably sniff it as long as it was trouble.

“I have come with the report” she walked into the room and placed the papers on Erwin’s desk.

“Thank you Hanji” He told her placing down the current stack of papers he was holding and replacing them with the new ones she had brought.

“Nothing significant for that one really, it just nulled the thought” She sighed. “Any new projects?” she asked.

“As of now, no assignments are given to us. They are going scarce as much as our funds. It doesn’t help that the king had hired a personal advisor who only tells him that strengthening his personal guards would be more beneficial than that for the people” Erwin responded.

“Wasn’t he your friend? Nile Dawk I believe?” she remembered the man from the last banquet they attended. He and Erwin seemed close by the way they talked while sipping cheap wine the corrupt Lord of Trost district could offer.

“Yes, I was indeed acquainted with him along with his wife Marie back in the days when I’d fool around before the classes my father administered” Erwin laughed. “I suppose I can talk to him about the problem when another banquet arrives” she smiled at her director hopeful for a new expedition if all things work out. “For the mean time, we are on a break. I’ll have someone call you if a new task arrives.”

“Alright then, I’ll be on my way to the market right now to buy new lenses and hopefully the merchants have new books” she waved at the men in the room before leaving for the stables where her own horse would be waiting.

“Division Leader” she turned her head to see one of her assistants named Moblit. another blonde who was fairly taller than her and younger. He had joined the lab when she was twenty five and had always stuck with her since then. He was like a personal guard who would make sure she does not go over board when doing experiments so she doesn’t kill herself.

“Hello Moblit” she smiled while waving at him. “I was on my way to the market for new glasses and books perhaps” he only stared at her which she already read as ‘I would like to come with you division leader’. “You could come with me, I’d need someone to carry the books I would buy anyway” she looked at him amused while he nodded accompanied by his cheeks turning red, a habit he had every time he would gain her permission.

Moblit then went ahead of her to prepare their horses which she was thankful for. She had proceeded to return to her room briefly to grab her goggles she only used when riding or going outside for expeditions. She wouldn’t risk loosing her glasses and not seeing anything while on travel so she opted for her goggles whenever she was on the run.

She was soon greeted by the smell of hyacinths and a freshly cleaned tray of plates she left in her room this morning. ‘Moblit must have cleaned’ she thought, although it was strange that he would spray hyacinths in her room. He would only take her plates and leave then give her food again or tell her to sleep and get some rest whenever he comes into her room.

She took her goggles from the table and wore them to see a clearer vision of her place. Nothing much changed except for the bed being made and the lenses of her goggles being surprisingly clean making her vision ten times cleaner. She never cleaned her goggles as she rarely used them these days so they should already be covered with dust, finger prints and even scratches, but they were spotless which left her speechless. She turned back and closed her room reminding herself to thank Moblit for cleaning after her even if it was just a small portion of her room.

Levi’s POV

He finally had enough three days later. It didn’t help that someone brought her food every now and then and she’d only leave the dirty plates and sometimes, even unfinished food on the side of her table. The stench of the left over had mixed up with the scent of sweat, old books, occasional farts, and the shit of her pet lizard that lived on a aquarium on a separate table across her bed.

As soon as the ungodly smell made its way into his abode, he had decided that he’s had enough of her filthy room and sloppy behavior. No matter how big everything seemed to be in that room, he was going to wipe away all the dust and odor from that place.

“Oi you!” he had called the squirrel who passed by his stump. “Call your clique! we’re waging war” he declared tying two pixie sized napkins on his hair and over his nose. He personally picked out hyacinths which he had instructed a swallow to carry once the squirrel had returned with two more of his kind, about two dozen birds, thirty butterflies and bees combined, two rabbits, five quails, and a hedgehog.

He rode the squirrel and set forth into the room through the window that she never bothered to lock. He wasn’t sure if he was given hell or a paradise when he finally took a good look at the place. It was like a cleaning haven for him where he could scrub his stress away for days, but it also looked like a pig sty where it would never get done no matter how hard he tried. But who was he kidding, he was Levi, and no dirt had never succumbed to him.

He opened the window wider so all his little helpers could get in. “You! Get the bag of trash and throw it in the bin in front of this building. You two! Grab the two buckets and fetch some water. The two squirrels, get me some hay and dried grass we can weave into a broom. Bees and butterflies, put the hyacinths in the glass after the swallow cleans it” he commanded and they scrambled right away to do what they were told.

Levi on the other hand, proceeded to go inside the aquarium where the lizard lived. He ‘tsked’ as soon as he opened the top of the glass box when he was greeted by a more prominent smell of lizard droppings. “Oi! Clean your own shit! Replace the pebbles and get new ones by the stream near by, a few of the birds will help you” he instructed and the reptile followed right away stepping out of his place and running to the stream.

He then asked more birds to remove the current sheets of the unmade bed and replace them with new ones they can find in the closet after he pushed a few stray books and pens to the floor. He coughed as dust erupted from the ground to the air as every object dropped to the ground. Not wanting to sneeze for month’s end, he climbed up the table where a tray with dirty dishes which he assumed once contained breakfast greeted him, the grease sticking beside the plates giving the odor of eggs and sausages. “Hedgehog! Once the birds return with the water, use your back to clean this. Let the butterflies get some flowers that could lather this up for you”.

He started tearing up the scattered papers on the desk and throwing them downward where the newly emptied bin awaited. He was amidst pulling papers when he bumped into a pair of goggles that looked rather ancient out of all the dirt and scratches masking the lenses. He asked for the help of some birds to tear down the old sheets into smaller cloths which he used to wipe the lenses and also to instruct the rodents to use it for wiping the windows and other glass ware.

He was on the midst of dusting the band of the goggles when she entered the room in a hurry making all the animals flee outside while he was left hiding behind a stack of books. She took the goggles and wore them before taking a good look at her surroundings looking surprised. He watched her as her eyes drifted from the plates to the bed before smiling like an idiot to his opinion.

He had noticed that her ridiculous bird nose had a scratch on the crook and he frowned at the sight of it. A broken pair of glasses also peaked out of her pocket making him think that she had a fight with someone again, perhaps one of her rare fits which he hated to see. Her hair had shined not because they were healthy but because they were greasy, she also smelled like sweat and sun contrary to the room that smelled mostly of hyacinths already if all the dust were to be gone soon. He made a self note to maybe give the woman a hint to clean the room herself someday.

She skipped out of the room a few moments later and his little helpers had also returned inside the room continuing what they were doing. He emerged from behind the book and stared at the door for a few moments before resuming cleaning and commanding.

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joneswilliam72 · 5 years

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Exclusive: listen to this gritty, soulful track “Shotgun Safari” from The O’Jays and the new crime flick Dragged Across Concrete.

Lakeshore Records will release "Dragged Across Concrete—Original Motion Picture Soundtrack" digitally on all platforms and on CD at the Lakeshore Webshop on March 22. Vinyl release forthcoming on Invada Records. Pre-order here.

Dragged Across Concrete was directed by S. Craig Zahler (Brawl in Cell Block 99, Bone Tomahawk), which stars Mel Gibson, Vince Vaughn, and Tory Kittles. It is the grandest of Zahler's violent, measured, and character-driven genre films. The film's music has an authentic soul sound, stylistically spanning late '60s to early '80s, composed and produced by Jeff Herriott and Zahler and enlisting the vocal talent that appeared to great effect on the Brawl in Cell Block 99 soundtrack – soul icons Butch Tavares and The O'Jays featuring Eddie Levert and Walter Williams and newcomer Adi Armour. The film will be released in theaters March 22 via Unified Pictures and Cinestate.

Zahler is an award-winning screenwriter, director, novelist, cinematographer, and musician. He wrote, directed, and co-composed the score for the 2015 film Bone Tomahawk, an Independent Spirit Award nominated picture (Best Screenplay; Best Supporting Actor) starring Kurt Russell, Patrick Wilson, Matthew Fox, and Richard Jenkins. The film garnered praise from critics and fans alike, including the New York Times, who called Bone Tomahawk, "[a] witty fusion of western, horror and comedy that gallops to its own beat".

Zahler more recently wrote and directed Brawl In Cell Block 99, a New York Times Critic’s Pick, starring Vince Vaughn, Jennifer Carpenter, and Don Johnson, which premiered at the Venice Film Festival and also went onto critical acclaim. Both movies were added to the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art in New York City in 2017.

Zahler's debut western novel, "A Congregation of Jackals", was nominated for the Peacemaker and the Spur awards, and his 2014 novels "Mean Business on North Ganson Street" and "Corpus Chrome, Inc." both received starred reviews for excellence in Booklist.

Zahler's newest book is "Hug Chickenpenny: The Panegyric of an Anomalous Child", a gothic tale that he will bring to the silver screen with the help of his new creative partners (check out a free preview of the novel here), The Jim Henson Company. After reading this strange story, Clive Baker declared, "S. Craig Zahler is certain to become one of the great imaginers of our time."

In addition to writing and directing, Zahler has founded and played in several bands, including the doomy epic metal outfit Realmbuilder, whose albums have been released by I Hate Records of Sweden. With longtime friend and songwriting partner Jeff Herriott, Zahler co-composed the orchestral score for Bone Tomahawk, and the soul music for Brawl In Cell Block 99 and Dragged Across Concrete as well as the jazz compositions for the latter. Zahler and Herriott also make music as Binary Reptile, a synthesizer project that provided the music for the "ear movie", The Narrow Caves.

Dragged Across Concrete is the story of two police detectives (Gibson & Vaughn) who find themselves suspended after a video of their strong-arm tactics is leaked to the media. In another part of town, a felon (Kittles) is released from prison and discovers that his family is about to be evicted. With little money and no options, all three men descend into the criminal underworld, where danger awaits them in shadows.

Says Zahler: "For the third time in four years, I worked with composer, professor, and my long-time friend Jeff Herriott on the soundtrack for a movie that I also wrote and directed.  This time, the picture was to have absolutely zero score, and all of the music would be sourced from radios and stereos within the fictional world.

"After our terrific experiences on Brawl in Cell Block 99 with soul legends, The O'Jays and Butch Tavares, as well as the great Wisconsin talent, Adi Armour, we had a better idea what we could achieve.  Additionally, this new movie called for a wider variety of soul tunes.  'Street Corner Felines' (sung by The O'Jays) displays the darker and funkier grooves of our songwriting heroes, Bobby Womack and Willie Hutch as does the propulsive and up tempo predator entitled, 'Shotgun Safari'.  'Don't Close the Drive In' (sung by Butch Tavares) is a lush and melancholic orchestral soul piece that The Stylistics might have performed at the start of the seventies, and 'My Magic Tricks' (sung by Adi Armour) is a funky and rockin' dance tune in the vein of D Train and The Isley Brothers. Working with these stellar singers on our own original compositions was a longtime dream fulfilled."

TRACKLIST

"Street Corner Felines" – TheO'Jay's featuring Eddie Levert and Walter Williams

"Gilded Life Of The Rich Man" – The O'Jay's featuring Eddie Levert and Walter Williams

"Sneaking Around At Night" – Butch Tavares

"My Magic Tricks" – Adi Armour

"A Better Place For Us" – S. Craig Zahler

"She's My Ice Cream Sundae" – Butch Tavares

"Don't Close The Drive In" – Butch Tavares

"Shotgun Safari" – The O'Jaysfeaturing Eddie Levert and Walter Williams

Enjoy "Shotgun Safari" below from the mighty O'Jays featuring Eddie Levert and Walter Williams and catch Dragged Across Concrete in theaters March 22.

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from The 405 https://ift.tt/2YdJO1p

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mywritingandprompts · 6 years

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The Knight’s Descent (CH. 1)

Chapter 1: The Bastard

Seven devils consorted with, one deal struck. Three heads wrought low. Only the Bastard remains now with scales of iron and a breath of damnation. This one will be hard to kill.

The King, that great, ancient Wyrm, would regret creating her. For he was her creator, and she would be his undoing. He and all his corruptions would fall before her wrath, for none left had the strength to endure. Not even the serpent himself.

One last debt to settle. One last bargain to uphold. One last trophy to collect for others.

Then, it would be her own trophy to take. Tear the Crown from the dragon’s scalp, break the throne beneath his body, and leave rivers of blood behind.

But now was not that time. Now was the time to Hunt.

Evelia, the Knight, crept forward, the bones of others who had come this way, by choice or by force, crumbling under her steel clad boots. Icy sweat beaded, and dripped down the back of her neck as she pushed herself against the cavern wall. Each footfall only heightened her anxiety. Any clink of armor, snap of bone, or tumble of rock could spell her death. But for now, she was safe. The low, rumbling breath of the sleeping dragon echoed through the cavern. Evidence of safety, or, at the very least, a small illusion of it. The stench of the place, the fetid scent of slowly rotting meat and excrement, threatened to gag the knight as she pushed further forward, it would have long ago if not for the swatch of cloth drenched in lavender over her mouth and nose, tied beneath her helm.

She steeled herself and pushed onwards, as darkness drew her deeper into its tight embrace. One hand on the leftmost wall was her only guide, careful to lift her feet high and lower them carefully as she walked. Slow, but methodical and quiet. Further into the cave, as the dark grew so deep that she began to give into thoughts of lighting her small hooded lantern, she glimpsed a glimmer of light from around a sharp corner. Her ears strained, but there was sound ahead. Muffled by the thunderous breath of her quarry, but there none the less. A hand drifted to the hilt of her sword as she, even more cautiously, drew close enough to peek around the stone corner.

A fire flickered softly in the center of the cavern room, throwing long shadows that danced against the walls. Two men, gaunt, and pale, rested around the fire, speaking softly while another went to retrieve more wood from the stash in the corner. All four wore long black robes adorned with green stitching, and carried long, wicked knives on their sides. Cultists. Men whose minds had been fouled by the powerful evil of the dragon, and sought to earn their master’s favor in exchange for power and riches. Most were either in too deep to turn back, or came from such terrible circumstances that serving the reptile seemed reasonable in comparison.

The knight pulled back, undid the clasp on her scabbard, and drew in a deep breath through helmet and cloth. She had never found elation in slaying her fellow humans, no matter how corrupt. However, they stood in her way, and she could not risk the possibility of them alerting the slumbering Bastard. Her hand wrapped around the hilt of her sword, and drew forth the blade with the almost inaudible hiss on steel on leather. The five gems, inset up the center of the blade and the largest forming the pommel, glittered even in the faint light. Three filled with color; white, black, and red respectively with the pommel and top crystal remaining clear as glass.

As the gems touched the air, the presences within pressed against Evelia’s. A different soul for each crystal pushing against their restraints, an indistinct fog against the calm lake of her mind, muffled and incomprehensible. Only two more left to add.

She reached out with her consciousness and allowed the two lowest gems, white and black, to push back, and touch her soul. Enough to hear their voices, but not enough to fear them.

“You wait far too long,” the Beast rumbled from his black gem, “the ape wanders too close.”

Indeed, the cultist gathering wood was less than a yard from the knight, picking through the pile for the driest pieces. Seemingly unaware of her presence, but that could change if he decided to turn her way.

Evelia thrust her mind towards to the white gem, probing for a response. Nothing but a soft rumble, a sigh maybe, issued in her mind. He had not spoken for days, but it was no matter, his power still functioned sufficiently. She turned away from him, and lifted the barriers surrounding her soul, allowing the other two to pour in. Her lungs seized at the icy sensation and her heart stuttered, but she was no stranger to this now. The pain soon passed and was replaced with feelings of strength; her feet felt light as if she were wearing dancing silks, and her muscles burned to run, howl, slash, and kill. But she would need to do this quietly lest the Bastard wake.

The knight turned the corner, the tips of her fingers brushing the shoulder of the cultist hunched over the wood, and hefted her brilliant blade. The fight was over before it had even begun. The cultist holding the firewood dropped the sticks to the ground, and doubled over. He retched, expelling black mud and thick moss, then collapsed. Evelia danced forward, and made a corpse of the first man by the fire with a broad upward slash from collarbone to jaw. She turned on the last man as he clambered for his dagger. The tip of her sword drove through his throat, cutting off a scream. The campsite took to abrupt silence.

The knight tried to calm her thundering heart as she stepped over the fallen bodies. That booming, rhythmic breath could still be heard; undisturbed, and unalerted. She spared a glance back at the man who had been tainted by the Beast’s touch, he remained motionless in a growing pool of sludge leaking from his mouth.

“You have grown cruel, oh Knight,” the Beast grumbled in a content growl.

Evelia wiped her blade with a spare cloth, and turned from the corpses to the campfire. She picked up a small burning stick, light her lamp, and gave a small hum of acknowledgement as she started forward.

“A compliment from one as feared as you, cannibal.” The prince said, his voice enough to make Evelia stutter-step slightly. She reached out with a thought, but as quickly as he spoken he withdrew. The Beast chuckled coldly. She sighed to herself, and pushed onwards through the dark.

The breathing of the Bastard had been a reassuring background noise, a guide even, near the entrance of the cavern. Now the thunder of it threatened to deafen Evelia. She held one hand against the left wall still, and her sword in front of her with the other, fear clenching her heart. The steep, rocky floor threatened her footing as she reached the bottom. A massive wooden door decorated with intricate knotwork carvings filled the hall in front of her. She pushed aside her thoughts and emotions, and let the other two gems spill their souls into her own once again. She placed herself before the entrance to the lair, and clamped the hood on her lantern down; pitching the world into darkness. A tentative hand reached out, and pushed against the door.

It glided forward on well-used hinges with barely a creak. The inside of the room was no brighter than the hallway, and Evelia could see nothing. But the breathing was loud beyond any other sound now, and the creatures hot, stinking breath washed over her armor in waves. She crept forward, and placed a hand on her lanterns hood; confident that the Bastard was but mere yards away from her now.

She snapped the lantern open, grabbed her sword with both hands, and with a roar hefted the blade to bring it down on - nothing? She froze mid pose as she stared out across the immense empty room at the far wall illuminated by her lantern. Her mind blanked, and her heart raced.

From behind her, a booming, grating voice spoke, “you are far more foolish than I was led to believe.”

She whirled around, eyes darting to see a monstrous shadow of black scales, punctured by glittering emerald eyes. The Bastard perched on a ledge twenty feet above the cavern entrance. A heron positioning its beak before plucking up the fish.

Leathery wings beat the air, like sails dropping into the wind, and the Bastard dove forward, ivory talons outstretched. The Knight lunged for the entrance, for cover, only succeeding in two steps before a massive paw slammed into her. She bounced across hard limestone as the giant wyrm landed on the ground with a crash of cracking stone. The Bastard ploddingly, almost in arrogance, turned to face the Knight as she yanked herself to her feet, sword gripped tight. His claws clicked against the ground impatiently, eyes piercing the small figure before him. The Knight held her pain behind gritted teeth. Buoyed by the soul of the Prince, she sprinted towards him, inhumanly fast. He reared back, wings beating to hold him aloft, and swiped at the armored girl with his front claw. The knight dipped letting the strike whistle over her head. She brought her blade up in a swift arc.

The blade clicked off the wyrm’s iron scales, but bit deep into the fleshy wing membrane. Hot blood splattered across stone and dented armor, and the Bastard let out a surprised yelp. His wings became a panicked blur as he fought to stay out of the Knight’s reach, carrying him twenty paces back before falling back to the ground. Relentless, the Knight pursued, scrambling across blood slicked, uneven stones to her prey. The Bastard inhaled sharply as hellfire built in his chest, and flooded up his throat; black, oily smoke and dancing green flames roiled out of his nostrils and seeped from the corners of his mouth. The Knight stopped short as the dragon’s jaws cracked open. Panic drove its daggers into her as she lashed her soul towards the red gem.

The barriers dropped just in time as the Queen’s soul rushed into her’s. Her blood seared and boiled from the inside, the pain almost making her collapse as the glowing green fire engulfed her. The intense heat peeled away the beads of sweat on her brow, but did not harm her as the Queen’s soul saved her from the scorching fire. The smoke, however, swam its way down her throat freely. The world seemed to tilt, and her stomach churned as the poisonous fumes played havoc with her body. The rush of fire was cut-off with a definitive clack as the Bastard snapped his mouth shut, and regarded the knight. She glared back, eyes smoldering like coals beneath her helm as the Queen thrashed to overwhelm her.

The Bastard’s own emerald eyes narrowed inquisitively. “So. You were the one who killed her then,” he said, more a question than comment. Evelia stifled a cough, and simply leveled her sword at the dragon as she began to walk towards him. He growled, and crouched down, his snake-like neck carrying his horse sized head close to the ground, and tail lazily flicking behind him. Just outside of each other’s reach, the two began circling in a tense dance.

The knight was the first to strike when the Bastard let his head drift in one spot for too long. She leaped forward, and stabbed at his nose. The blade slipped between two scales drawing out a small stream of blood. His head jerked back. A paw darted forward, and narrowly missed her. The other paw swung down to crush her. She darted forwards, closing the gap, and letting the blow shatter the stone floor behind her. Her sword cleaved a gash in his shoulder near the joint where the scales were thinnest. It then whipped at his head. The Bastard dipped his head so the blow glanced harmlessly off his horns. He nipped at her legs causing her to dance back with a wide swing to keep him at bay.

The dragon blew a burst of fire and smoke from his mouth as she backed away, blinding her. He lunged forward again, and slapped her with his massive paw. Evelia grunted as the claws dented her breastplate, and knocked her to the side. She turned it into a roll, and deterred another swipe with several harmless, but stinging blows on his knuckles. The two resumed circling each other.

“Careful now, darling,” the Queen said in her typical snide tone, “you won’t last much longer.”

Evelia sneered as the burning pain inside flared, “Shut up.”

“She speaks true, even if I do hate to hear when she speaks,” the Beast said. “He will draw this out, and exhaust you.”

The Prince interrupted, pushing forward a thought of his own with a flash of wordless images.

Evelia pondered it for a second, “I like it.”

“It’s suicide, of course you would,” the Beast hissed, but was cut off as Evelia dodged forward.

She fainted a slash at the Bastard’s head again causing him to duck down then quickly switched to stab into the wound on his should she had scored earlier. He roared, and spun away from the knight. His tail whipped around, and slapped the ground near her. She lunged in again, and slashed the same cut. Blood poured out and his leg faltered somewhat. His head darted in this time, and bit at the knight’s chest, teeth grating on metal but stumbling her. She desperately stabbed again at the shoulder, and this time the dragon placed his jaws over her head. She twisted the sword at the last moment, put the edge of the blade against the inside of his bottom jaw, and shoved hard with a furious cry. The metal sunk into his gums, but still pushed her against his upper jaw. One of his long, dagger teeth punched through the side of Evelia’s helmet. The tooth tore through her cheek, rending cloth, skin, muscle, and punching her lower jaw out of place with a sickening pop.

Evelia’s cry turned to a scream, but she focused through the pain, and slapped her hand against the wyrm’s tongue. A naseauting pulse ran through her, and into him. The jaws slacked, the tooth through her face sliding out and letting a river of blood pour into her mouth, and she dove out of the maw. Both combatants crumpled to the ground, gagging and coughing violently. Evelia ripped her helmet and cloth off, and let the blood pour out of her ruined mouth as she struggled for breath. Her eyes snapped to the Bastard, half-expecting him to crush her at any second.

The dragon’s body contorted in pain, however, and blood, swirling with sulfurous peat, poured out of his mouth with every ground rattling hack. Evelia shoved the Queen’s soul back into it’s gem, ending the burning pain throughout her body, but not stopping the roaring of her head. She reached up, and gingerly touched the gaping hole in her cheek. She steeled herself, and in one deft movement shoved her jaw up into place. Pain overwhelmed her like a tidal wave, and her vision tunneled to nearly black. This wasn’t the time to stop though. This was the time to finish this, she thought to herself as she struggled to her feet. The Bastard’s glowing green eyes were beginning to fade as black veins crept across them, and his body sagged uselessly. His breathing was labored, and only possible through clumps of mud and vegetation that clung to his teeth and throat.

Evelia rested a hand on the Bastard’s nose, and braced her sword against her shoulder. Curiously, she reached out with her soul, not to the sword but to the living dragon. The roiling mass of fear, pain, hatred, and resignation almost made her pull back, but she pushed through.

“I... I may have underestimated you,” the Bastard said with grim humor. “I can’t believe you killed him too. Both parents, and now the child... The Prince is with you too, so this is about the King then?”

“Yes,” she said.

“We could have worked together. I hate him too. It didn’t have to come to this.”

Evelia removed her hand from his snout, and placed an armored boot on top of his nose. “Hmpf. I guess you are really no son of the Beast. Yes, it did have to come to this.” She lifted the sword high.

And brought it down on the Bastard’s neck. “You were always weak,” her thought coming across as a deep growl that almost startled her as she lifted the sword again. Almost.

It took longer than she would have liked, but soon the knight had her prize tied to the tops of several logs of firewood that she had fashioned into a makeshift sled, and a bandage of cultist cloak around her mouth. No, not her prize, she remembered as she slung the ropes over her shoulders and began hauling the dragon’s head up out of the cave.

It took several hours, maybe more, by her own estimates, but Evelia had managed to haul the head out of the cave, and into the moonlight. Her armor had been removed long ago, and placed on the sled, but her sword remained on her; the souls of the Prince and Beast lending her strength. The ropes chaffed, and her anger grew as she pulled the sled further into the grove of trees next to the cave. It spiked as she stumbled on a root, and twisted her ankle.

The knight threw aside the ropes, and shouted. A raw, unstructured bellow as she thrashed about with her mind, “Where are you!”

“Peace, child. We are here.” A cracked whisper floated across the forest. Evelia turned her head, and a clearing that had not been there before was there. She grabbed up the ropes, and began to pull the sled into it. Silver moonlight illuminated the area. In the center of the clearing filled with wildflowers was a massive, flat, circular stone, and seated around the stone were seven creatures born from the nightmares of children, and parents alike. “Come, you must be tired. Rest for a time, and tell us your story.”

#hey guys #I actually wrote this #it's not much but it's something #I'm just trying to get a story in my head down on paper #so yeah #if you like it please reblog or like #i'd really appreciate it #or send an ask #or anon #not edited but I'll go back and fix stuff as time goes on #writing #my writing #story #stories #write #in progress story

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indiasendangered-blog · 6 years

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A Year Back Into Nature

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“The extinction of wildlife would likely be caused not just by the greed of poachers, but equally by the rapacity of developers,” writes Prerna Singh Bindra in her book The Vanishing: India’s Wildlife Crisis. The year 2017 has given ample proof of both – the remorseless operations of the merchants of wildlife who will sell anything that is alive and the ambiguous plans of the proponents of development who want us to believe that the cost-benefit calculation of environmental devastation is correct and the need of the hour.

The year 2017 began with India’s largest-ever wildlife haul – the seizure of 6,000 turtles from poachers who planned to smuggle them to Southeast Asia. The rescued reptiles weighed 4.4 tonnes in all and were found stuffed in 140 jute bags at a smuggler’s residence in Gauriganj town of Amethi. The success could have very well set the pace for more such vigilance in the field. Unfortunately, it only turned to be an illustration of the increasingly organised and sophisticated operations of criminal syndicates involved in the trade.

From tigers to pangolins and bears to tiny lizards, India’s biodiversity over the past one year continued to be ransacked by men who are responsible for putting illegal wildlife trade as the fourth largest transnational crime in the world. Still, the recent recognition by the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Fauna and Flora (CITES) conferred to India for this very seizure tagged ‘Operation Save Kurma’ indicates that given the right planning, training and mentality, bottlenecks in the system can be cleared to preserve the rapidly diminishing flora and fauna.

A worrisome year

The equally worrying development this year has not been the actions of poachers but the nation’s development visionaries who fail to see that the future they are chalking today without the critical ecological balance in mind may ricochet very soon to spread even bigger troubles than the ones they are trying to solve.

image via DNA India

In a hugely debated move by the government, the Ken-Betwa river linking project was cleared by the standing committee of the National Board for Wildlife (NBWL) in August 2016, and given environmental clearance towards the end of that year. The Rs 10,000-crore project requires the diversion of 5,258 hectares of forest land, including 4,141 hectares of the Panna National Park, a national park that has battled with poachers to save its tigers in the past and is now again at war with development to save the tigers, vultures, and endangered gharials from the watery graveyard being dug for them. If policymakers are taking heed, it is time to pause, reflect and tread on a much carefully planned development path.

Read More: Ken Betwa linking Project may Lead to Loss of Wildlife

On January 28 this year, oil leaked into the Bay of Bengal after two tankers collided near Chennai. The scale of the oil spill was initially estimated to be around 200 litres. The number was later updated to two tonnes and then three tonnes. It was revised again to 20 tonnes and later, 40 tonnes. The changing estimations and unsynchronised statements by officials not only raise questions on our understanding of the disaster but more importantly, on our preparedness and ability to respond to it. As an immediate aftermath, over half a dozen turtles were found dead due to the spill, but the greater ecological implications are still understudied even though the knowledge that an oil spill can create havoc to the marine species for months is common.

While the seas of the southern coast were tainted black with this oil spill, the annual floods of Kaziranga yet again brought with it destruction and death. With nearly 80% of the wildlife park submerged, this is the worst flood the state witnessed in three decades. The park lost as many as 334 animals in two successive waves of floods, with the casualty list including 22 rhinos, one tiger, several elephants and buffalos and over 250 various species of deer.

Threat to floral diversity

In July this year, a team of researchers from the Botanical Survey of India (BSI) found evidence of at least 250 rare and threatened species in the southern Western Ghats. The assessment of some of these last happened in 1998 showing severe neglect when it comes to documentation and preservation of our country’s floral diversity. What this has also led to, as observed by the scientists, is heavy exploitation and habitat deprivation for the species.

Read More: New Aquatic Species of Snake Discovered in Western Ghats

One plant species that has been a victim of this neglect and is progressing towards systematic extinction is the Red sanders, a rare kind of sandalwood that grows only in the Palakonda and Seshachalam hills, with sporadic growth in a few places in Andhra Pradesh. With markets in Southeast Asia and Gulf countries, Chennai is serving as the centre of a well-organised smuggling network keen to make quick bucks while the plant perishes.

As R Raghavendra Rao, honorary scientist at Indian National Science Academy, warns, “About 90% of the forest area in Western Ghats has disappeared. Nearly 28% of plants in India are endemic to the country. If they are not protected and preserved by our efforts, they will go permanently out of existence from the world.”

On a positive note

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What enamoured the world yet again to India’s charming biodiversity in 2017 were the bit sized amphibians discovered in the Western Ghats. Seven new species of ‘night frogs’, in the Nyctibatrachus genus, including four species that are among the tiniest frogs ever found, were discovered following a five-year survey by India’s renowned frogman, S D Biju and his team. Though the frogs were abundant in the survey area, their minuscule size and chirping calls – which resemble the sounds of insects – enabled them to remain undetected until now.

Also joining the list of spectacular discoveries was an aquatic Rhabdops snake endemic to India, geckos, fish, jellyfish and even a tree-inhabiting crab. In the floral world, India’s much loved former president and missile man Dr APJ Abdul Kalam got a special spot as scientists named a new medicinal plant species from West Bengal after him. Needless to say, this list will continue to grow as the hidden jewels of the Indian jungles are revealed in the years to come.

Read More: New Species of a Doting Frog Father

Importing skins of reptiles, mink, fox and chinchillas was banned by the Directorate General of Foreign Trade this year, making a strong worldwide statement and saving thousands of animal lives in the process. The country also unveiled the third National Wildlife Action Plan for 2017-2031, spelling out the future road map for wildlife conservation. Through this plan, it is the first time climate change impact on wildlife has been recognised. Only time will tell though how much of the plan is put into practice to act for climate change mitigation and wildlife management planning processes.

For the national prides of India – the tiger, elephant and peafowl, the year brought yet another wave of conservation highs and lows as the nation strained to check poaching, curtail wildlife trades, be bullish about development and yet protect and preserve. India joined hands with Nepal and Bhutan for a joint tiger census this year, results of which are awaited.

Number games

According to National Tiger Conservation Authority (NTCA), a total of 71 tigers died between January 1 to September 30, 2017, in India, of which 17, maximum among states, died in Madhya Pradesh. The population of India’s national heritage animal too dipped in the country with the Elephant Census 2017 pegging the elephant population at 27,312 across 23 states: a 10% decrease since the last census done in 2012.

Read More: Poacher Killing 125 Tigers and 1025 Leopards Convicted

A study undertaken by TRAFFIC India stated peacock feather ash were sold in many drug stores in Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Andhra Pradesh, Delhi, Gujarat and Rajasthan, in the belief that it cures hiccups, vomiting and morning sickness. It is not hard to surmise that the growing demand is meted not by picking the feathers that are naturally shed, but plucking them directly with dire consequences for the national bird.

Image courtesy The Australian

There are disturbing sites that come to mind when reflecting back on the year gone by: an elephant fleeing across a forest road in Bankura, West Bengal with her calf on fire running after her and mob chasing them in the background. A leopard trapped in a Maruti plant in Gurugram barely making it alive. A tiger bulldozed accidentally in a national park because hasty decisions made in a panic mode say ‘kill the beast’ rather than ‘give it the space it needs to exist’.

“A great silence is spreading over the natural world, even as the sound of man is becoming deafening,” noted Bernie Krause who has spent 40 years recording nature’s sounds. Such is the rate of species and habitat loss the world is witnessing at present, that his tapes might be the only proof of the original diversity of life.

India’s future on a global stage has been defined clearly by the people in power but somehow environment and wildlife do not seem to fit in. In 2018, may the nation prosper by working in tandem with nature, using ecological virtues as tools, and not mistakenly rampaged as roadblocks to development.

Read More: Over 1000 Turtles Rescued in Bangalore from Smugglers

This article by Atula Gupta was originally published in Deccan Herald

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A Year Back Into Nature was originally published on India's Endangered

#2017 review #deccan herald #environment review 2017 #India wildlife #ken betwa #tiger #turtle #wildlife trade #Endangered #India's Endangered

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