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ikesenhell · 5 years

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Courage

GLITTER & GOLD, CHAPTER 5. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: Mildly traumatizing content? Implied gore and suicide? It isn’t too bad I promise. Thanks to all my readers who stopped in and @velociraptor-detective for always line editing.

They started the meeting with the usual things that were always discussed when it came to Waŋblí Hoȟpi; food, storage, transportation, the recreation of the rail lines, so on. Masamune didn't know why he’d been summoned until the tail end, when Ieyasu smacked down a tiny mechanical thing in front of him.

“Ieyasu,” Mitsunari squeaked, “I appreciate your fervor, but please be more careful with it, it did take a while for me to fix that--”

Ieyasu pointedly ignored him. “If you really want us to track down where your ghost ship goes, you have to do something stupid, apparently.”

Masamune poked at it. It looked almost exactly like a box, except with a small slot on the front, a little lense, and a few buttons. “What is this, pre-war tech?”

“Yes.” The blonde returned flatly, crossing his arms. “It is, and it took me forever to find the damn thing, so you’d better keep good track of it. It’s a Polaroid camera.”

“No shit. Huh.” Masamune picked it up and pretended to fumble it, catching the device a half second later and relishing the look of horror on Ieyasu and Mitsunari’s faces. Mitsuhide hid his face behind his jacket sleeve. “What do you want me to do with this?”

All eyes turned to Mitsunari.

“Well,” Mitsunari started, slower and less enthusiastic than usual, “You see, we did develop a map of possible patterns and pathways the ship takes. It appears to be pretty consistent, according to the reported sightings.”

Masamune seriously considered juggling the Polaroid and stayed himself. “Okay. What’s this got to do with the camera?”

“Further research is necessary. If we know where it is, then it would behove us to find out… well… what it is.”

It all clicked at last.

“You want me to photograph this thing.” Masamune paused. “Is that what’s going on?”

“Yes!” Mitsunari brightened up. “Preferably from as many angles as possible. The Uesugi-Takeda settlement is coming for talks, and they have an excellent mechanical engineer who I want to take a look at it--”

“That’s a hard no from me.” Masamune pushed the device into Ieyasu’s arms. “You want me to get near the mystery murder boat that happens to have a cult of devotees? Are you insane?”

“Told you,” Ieyasu muttered to the camera. It remained stubbornly mute on the subject.

“You asked us to locate it,” Mitsuhide pointed out reasonably. “And along the route, there’s a fair chance that you might find something of value. We are talking about kidnappings, after all. We did our part--”

“Your part involved being around a fucking table, not chasing down the goddamn--” Masamune sputtered for words. “Ghost scurvy ship!”

Nobunaga, who up until now had remained utterly silent behind his table, finally spoke up. “Would you rather we get someone who isn’t already on the cultists radar? I’m certain if I asked Hideyoshi nicely enough, he’d put himself in the line of fire.”

Masamune shook his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Maybe Mitsunari? He certainly seems game. Or perhaps your precious shopkeeper--”

That was enough. Masamune drew the machete and leveled it at the other man. “That’s not fucking funny.”

Nobunaga just shrugged. “I never implied it was.”

“Don’t--don’t ask her,” Masamune pleaded, lowering the weapon. “She’d do it, too.”

Silence. Mitsunari wilted. Masamune seriously considered blowing up on the spot. “You asked her anyway, didn't you?”

“Well, I asked her first,” Mitsunari confessed, pushing his fingers together. “Since she also seems so invested in this problem. She said she would, but wanted to have you with her…”

Fuck.

“Give me that,” Masamune snapped, snatching up the camera from Ieyasu’s arms. “Does it come with a goddamn harness, or should I just wave it at the death ship freehand?”

“It has a harness.”

“Give it to me.”

They handed it over without commentary. Steaming, Masamune stalked from the room.

---

She was already waiting by the motorcycle as he exited.

“They hassled you about it?”

“Sure did, Kitten.” He sighed raggedly, sweeping past her and into the house. She followed. “Are we really doing this?”

“Masamune. We went stalking around a corn field at night and nearly got shot by a bunch of shotgun-wielding yokels, and you laughed.”

What could he even say to that that wasn’t so close to the truth? He fetched a glass and wriggled it at her, an understood question of do you want something to drink? She shook her head. He puttered around the kitchen, moving Ieyasu’s seedling peppers out of the sink and onto the windowsill for sunlight, and tried to buy himself some time.

It wasn’t enough. He could practically smell the gunpowder. He could hear his father in the quiet echo of his pulse, in the empty space where his eye once was.

“How much did I tell you about how my dad went?” He asked at last.

She hesitated, opened her mouth, closed it, and finally allowed, “Not much. You weren’t really coherent, and then you just…”

“Took off,” he completed for her. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Silence. He paced around the table and ignored the glass of water he’d poured. “Dad saw the ship first, you know. He wasn’t really a superstitious guy, but he was getting up there and losing it a little. Grandad had dementia, so I think that was kind of starting to kick in, you know? He--he was always so strong. I can’t explain what happened. But the ship--the ship just punched the wind out of him somehow.”

She said nothing. He stretched out his arms as if physical exercise would chase the ghosts away. It didn't. Talking faster--like that would hurt less!--Masamune continued. “And like, you know, it only gives you a week. That’s what the legend says. You’ve got a week. We didn't really tell anyone at the time, cause he was a silent type and I was not really that spooked, right? But it got to Dad. I think he thought if we could get through the week, it would all be okay. He started staying up real late and drinking coffee all the time, maybe some herbal stuff. I don’t know what all he did. He didn't want it to get me.”

“Right,” was all she murmured. “I remember that.”

He pushed on, trying to punch through the burning in his eyes. “I just watched him--I watched him dissolve. He turned from my dad into some fucking stranger in a matter of days. It ate him alive. At the end of it, he couldn’t have told me what was sane and what wasn’t. All he thought was that--he thought that taking me at his own hand was mercy. He thought it was cleaner. He thought--”

Could he even say it? Masamune buckled onto the floor and drew his knees up to his chest. How could he articulate being on the wrong side of a gun, when the man behind it was his father? How could he describe the madness and fear in his hero’s eyes? Losing his sight, losing the rest of his family, losing his home in one fell swoop--

“I always say,” he managed, ignoring the tears on his cheeks, “that the ship didn't take him, he took him. That’s a damn lie. The ship took him. The ship took him, and he just finished the job for it. And I’m fucking terrified that if those shitbags out there in the prairie don’t get you, the fear will.”

Wind rattled the house siding. He rubbed stubbornly at his face, willing himself to stop, willing her to stop looking at him. She didn't. Instead she rose and crept to his side, settling down in front of his knees.

“Ah, Kitten,” he forced, “I’m not looking too cool right now.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she demurred, wiping his face with her fingertips. She smelled like lavender oils. “I wouldn’t say that at all.”

He lowered his face into her hand and shut his eye, letting the scent waft over him. Away went the lingering taste of gunpowder. Away went the vision of what little remained of his father. All that was left was her--her and the creaking floorboards and the soft rush of air outside. She danced the other hand through his hair and despite himself, he moaned soft appreciation.

“We’re going to stop it.” It wasn’t a statement, but a declaration. Her voice almost echoed in the space. “We’re going to do it. There won’t be anyone else taken by the fear--not you, not me, no one. No more.”

---

He donned his lucky gloves the next day and zipped his jacket up to the hilt. She was waiting for him outside the shop when he pulled up. Wordlessly, Masamune offered her the Polaroid.

“It has a strap,” he indicated. She raised a brow at him.

“It’s bright orange. I can see that.”

Shit. He’d sounded just like Hideyoshi then, hadn’t he? Covering for it, Masamune grinned. “Just thought I’d point it out before Ieyasu kills me. Ready?”

She exhaled and pulled back her braids. “As I can be. Move up.”

The sun was setting in the distance, a golden globe radiating across the plains. In his travels, he’d never seen a more beautiful sunset. Out in the east, the eerie fallout glow caused too much fog and polluted rain to really enjoy it. In the south, the land was too barren to risk being out during the daytime. But here? Oh, he relished having her clutch him tight as the wind whistled around them.

“We’re gonna follow around the trail they marked,” Masamune shouted back to her, “They said it shows up around nightfall. You ready?”

She just lifted her thumb in assent.

The grasses bent sideways, flaming orange in the sunlight. And then--

“Holy shit!” She shouted.

Masamune chanced a glance back in a mirror and his blood ran icy cold. There it was. Behind them and moving fast, the ghost ship sailed silently over the grasses.

“Hold on!” He commanded, kicking the engine into the next gear. “And get those photos!”

“On it!”

Not even the new muffler could stifle the roar of the motorcycle. The prairie transformed into a yellow blur, air deafening him. Even then the ship pulled alongside them. Its perfect mast soared overhead, no colors flying, just its sheer surface coloring the whole landscape green. The bare timber sides grew closer and closer as it edged toward the road.

This was it. This was the moment. If death awaited them, it came now. Masamune held his breath and tried to urge the motorcycle faster, but it wasn’t enough. The ghost merged and came level, holding steady mere inches from them.

It won’t hurt anyone else.

In a moment of insane bravery, Masamune thrust his hand out and plunged it into the side. It wasn’t cold or solid, but just--nothing. He waved his palm back and forth. Only air greeted his fingertips. He flapped his arm.

“What are you doing!?” She shouted.

“Fuck you, ghost boat!” He bellowed. “You ain’t shit!”

“You’re insane!” But her laughter was unmistakable. “I can’t get a good shot if you keep doing that--”

Courage flooded him like hot water. “Then try it like this!”

Without warning, Masamune veered sharply to the side, bringing the whole motorcycle inside the ship. She screamed and clutched at him. All he could do was laugh--laugh at the terror he’d held on to for years, laugh at the impassive thing that had taken so much from him--and let it out into the world they tore through. It didn't shift in its course. And at last--at last, when he was certain holding onto the speed would hurt the bike, he slowed and let it overtake them, sailing on. They puttered to a halt and watched it move into the distance.

“Oh my god!” She staggered off the bike, shaking her limbs. “Oh my god!”

Masamune leaped off the bike. “First things first; are you okay?”

“Y--I think so!” Her staccato laugh echoed all the fluttering in his stomach. “I can’t believe we just did that--I can’t believe you just did that--”

“It isn’t shit,” he affirmed, breathless with energy. “It can’t touch us. It isn’t going to ever again. You’re right.”

Oh god, when she smiled like that, it almost took all the breath he’d gathered back up and crushed it out of his lungs again. And she was so beautiful, with her braids cascading down her shoulders and her dark eyes crinkled in the twilight sun, all the stars that hadn’t yet started glowing reflected there, and--

“Come here,” he commanded.

She took one step forward. That was enough. He closed the distance between them and crushed her body against his, pressing a fierce kiss to her mouth. She gasped; he pulled back only a second before she tugged him back in by the jacket.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed.

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, and hitched her up under her thighs. She obligingly wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him back in, her mouth lighting-spark hot. Everything he had ever seen and done fell away. What else could compare to this? What else could compare to her?

He’d spent his life running, and he’d never managed to leave her behind.

“I think I love you,” he breathed against her. She just grinned.

“I know you do.”

#Ikesen #Ikemen Sengoku #Ikesen Masamune #Ikesen post apocalyptic au #Courage #G&G #Glitter & Gold #lakota mc #my writing #harm tw

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aroaessidhe · 3 years

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2021 reads // twitter thread

Sorrowland

sci-fi/fantasy gothic horror

a young queer Black woman escapes from an isolated cult and raises her newborn twins in the woods

when she starts to develop strange abilities, she realises she might have to enter the outside world to find out more

this is SO GOOD

#Sorrowland #aroaessidhe 2021 reads #the mc is an intersex lesbian specifically #and her love interest is a trans woman (she's Lakota and identifies as winkte and as a woman; the word trans isn't used)#also def check CWs for this one #yes there will be fanart

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yagodichjagodic · 4 years

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Frank Waln.

IG: theidolcollective Twitter: idol_collective Shop: theidolcollective.com

#the idol collective #illustration #frank waln #indigenous #lakota #MC

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mewtwoandme · 2 years

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While obviously she'd never appreciate being touched by a human, do you think your Newt would appreciate physical affection from, say, another Mewtwo (though not our MC 'two, for obvious reasons)?

The only other mewtwos Newt would accept the most affection from would be Amber and Blu, cause obviously Blu is her son and Amber is her niece lol though honestly later down the road, probably around the time she finds out she's pregnant, both her and Mewtwo would be more open to expressing sibling affection, cause 'Two would understand if she'd need some comfort during that time. And once she feels more comfortable around Lakota, she might even tolerate a quick hug or two from her if she needs one X3

#answered ask #fridurmus-blog

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official-cisphobe · 3 years

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whats wrong with the new spirit movie?

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron (og)

has a power message about colonisation

follows the journey of a wild horse escaping colonisers and befriending Little Creek (a Lakota man)

shows the horrors and damage white people caused on native land and how they treated indigenous people

is a good film, done properly and respectfully (as far as I'm aware)

Spirit: Untamed (/ Riding Free)

Everyone is white now (edit: the mc is half Mexican and there is one black character)

white girl tames the wild horse

white girl saves the day

not a single indigenous character in sight

#äsks

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smokinfox · 2 years

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" You must stop doing this, white Knife."

🐎 Smoking Fox

🐃 Apache Woman

🔥 Married with @heroicknife

🐴 Descriptive

🐃 MC 21 + #Parody #Roleplay #1883

🐎 Writer is Lakota Sioux 🐎

🔥 #OutlawGunsRp @divinekindred

🐎 Pinned by #Fatal #Radiant

🐎 ❤️ or 🔄 🐎

#OutlawgunsRp #roleplayer #divinekindred #radiant

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outlawnavajo · 2 years

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"When the spirit horse comes.. Then it's over."

🐎 ~ Chavez Y Chavez

🐎 ~ Navajo Tribe

🐎 ~ Regulators @AnOutlawBilly @poeticguns @awantedoutlaw

🐎 ~ Descriptive

🐎 ~ MC 21 + #RolePlayer

🐎 ~ Writer is Lakota Sioux

🐎 ~ #OutlawGunsRp #YoungGuns

🐎 ~ Part of @eliteworldsverse

🐎 ~ Pinned by #Fatal #Radiant

❤️ or 🔄

#young guns #ChavezYChavez #western rp #roleplayer #radiant #western

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brandedlakota · 2 years

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"Yeah, I am a Dutton. And I am Lakota, Sioux."

🐎 Kayla Dutton

🐂 Cowgirl

🐃 Husband @brandedoutlaw

🐴 Writer is Lakota Sioux

🐄 Descriptive

🐂 MC 21 +

🐃 #YellowstoneTV #Roleplayer

🐎 Pinned by #Fatal #Radiant

🐎 💛 or RT 🐎

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wings-of-ink · 2 months

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Could you tell us about the skills that MC could excel at?

I'd love to, Anon!

The main skill/interest/occupation your MC can have are one of the following:

Logging-Loggers mainly cut down trees, shape and split logs for use in building and such, or even cut firewood. This is how Papa got his start and then eventually also worked his way into carpentry (it takes some time, so this is as far as MC will be, but eventually they can also do carpentry). MCs that pick this may have special options or outcomes in the story because they will have better aptitude towards wielding a tool/weapon and will, in general, be stronger.

Carpentry-Carpenters take the wood from loggers and make things from it - furniture has a big market, but so do tools, utensils, and even art. They work in the fine details and beautification of wood. They also may be called upon to do some repairs to a home or assist in building bigger projects. MCs with this skill will have deft hands and an eye for detail.

Swordsmanship-If your MC has studied the blade, they're likely going to called upon to work as a guard or general peacekeeper for the area. MC's hometown is a bit sleepy, but isn't without trouble since it sees a fair few travelers. Duals are also a common form of entertainment as well as practice. MC's with this skill will have boost in hostile situations out in the world and be, in general, stronger.

Archery-If your MC has studied the bow they will also be called upon for guard duty. This is another very popular form of entertainment and sportsmanship in the world and there are almost never-ending tournaments that MC can be apart of both in and around the MC's hometown (this nets a lot of gold). MC's that master the bow will be second in skill only to their da (even if Oswin claims otherwise). MC's with this skill have a boost (from a distance) in battle, and nice strong arms. [This skill almost got a split between sporting (doing the competitions) and hunting, but there is already too much coding involved as is, so I didn't do it.]

Medicine/Herbalism-You need a healer in every party and MC can be a darn good one. MC's that study medicine mostly work with the established healer, Kavi, and his wife Betony (who specializes in midwifery). Lakota, MC's best friend, is also a practicing herbalist and will work with a healer MC. If your MC knows medicine, they'll not be as good in a fight, but a boon after it's over (assuming they are conscious...).

Trade-MC's that learned trade will be the money makers. They know what things are worth and can strike a deal with almost anyone. They may tend to be a bit more charismatic without much effort (they don't even need to be especially friendly, people just trust them). These MC's have a mind for numbers as well and are often good at spotting a scam. Not always so good in a fight though.

Cooking-MC's that have mastered cooking draw a great deal of attention from the wealthy. Eating isn't always a luxury in this world and need often comes before taste. Those that can forego need and afford the finer foods in life, will clamor for your MC's cooking. They prepare feasts and raise everyone's spirits with their skills. They have a lot of connections in high places. Cook MCs may not be super powerful (though those arms from kneading dough are nothing to balk at), but they wield knives with terrifying grace.

In Chapter 3 your MC will also get to pick a hobby that they primarily do for fun, but that may add some extra flavor for their usual occupation. [Singing, drawing/painting, sculpting, storytelling, whittling, and needlework]

Thank you for the ask, Anon! ^_^

#god cursed if #twine if #if wip #asks #twine wip #interactive novel #if game #interactive fiction #gc if character development

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tasksweekly · 5 years

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[TASK 171: CHEYENNE]

In celebration of November being Native American Heritage Month, here’s a masterlist below compiled of over 40+ Cheyenne faceclaims categorised by gender with their occupation and ethnicity denoted if there was a reliable source. The Cheyenne are a Native American tribe who historically have lived in the US states of Colorado, Minnesota, Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Wyoming. The majority of Cheyenne now live in Montana or Oklahoma If you want an extra challenge use random.org to pick a random number! Of course everything listed below are just suggestions and you can pick whichever faceclaim or whichever project you desire.

Any questions can be sent here and all tutorials have been linked below the cut for ease of access! REMEMBER to tag your resources with #TASKSWEEKLY and we will reblog them onto the main! This task can be tagged with whatever you want but if you want us to see it please be sure that our tag is the first five tags, @ mention us or send us a messaging linking us to your post!

THE TASK - scroll down for FC’s!

STEP 1: Decide on a FC you wish to create resources for! You can always do more than one but who are you starting with? There are links to masterlists you can use in order to find them and if you want help, just send us a message and we can pick one for you at random!

STEP 2: Pick what you want to create! You can obviously do more than one thing, but what do you want to start off with? Screencaps, RP icons, GIF packs, masterlists, PNG’s, fancasts, alternative FC’s - LITERALLY anything you desire!

STEP 3: Look back on tasks that we have created previously for tutorials on the thing you are creating unless you have whatever it is you are doing mastered - then of course feel free to just get on and do it. :)

STEP 4: Upload and tag with #TASKSWEEKLY! If you didn’t use your own screencaps/images make sure to credit where you got them from as we will not reblog packs which do not credit caps or original gifs from the original maker.

THINGS YOU CAN MAKE FOR THIS TASK - examples are linked!

Stumped for ideas? Maybe make a masterlist or graphic of your favourite faceclaims. A masterlist of names. Plot ideas or screencaps from a music video preformed by an artist. Masterlist of quotes and lyrics that can be used for starters, thread titles or tags. Guides on culture and customs.

Screencaps

RP icons [of all sizes]

Gif Pack [maybe gif icons if you wish]

PNG packs

Manips

Dash Icons

Character Aesthetics

PSD’s

XCF’s

Graphic Templates - can be chara header, promo, border or background PSD’s!

FC Masterlists - underused, with resources, without resources!

FC Help - could be related, family templates, alternatives.

Written Guides.

and whatever else you can think of / make!

MASTERLIST!

Suzan Shown Harjo (1945) Cheyenne / Muskogee - poet, writer, lecturer, curator, and advocate.

Pam Grier (1949) Cheyenne, African-American, Chinese, Filipino, Spanish - actress.

Vanessa Jennings (1952) Cheyenne, Kiowa, Akimel O’odham, Plains Apache - fashion designer, beadwork artist, and cradleboard maker.

Joanelle Romero (1957) Cheyenne, Mescalero Apache, Chiricahua Apache, Sephardi Jewish - actress, singer, filmmaker, author, and humanitarian.

Bethany Yellowtail (1989) Cheyenne / Crow - fashion designer.

Sky Ferreira (1992) Cheyenne, Cree, Ojibwe, Chippewa Cree, Bukovinian Jewish, Galician Jewish, Irish, Scottish, French, English / Brazilian [Portuguese, Possibly Other] - actress, singer-songwriter, and model.

Raven Morgan (1995) Cheyenne, Pawnee, Arapaho, Otoe, Missouria, Muskogee - youtuber and beauty pageant performer.

Shay Eyre (1999) Cheyenne, Arapaho / Oglala Lakota Sioux, Mnicoujou Lakota Sioux - actress, model, and director.

Lyla June (?) Cheyenne, Navajo - singer-songwriter, poet, and public speaker.

Sage Galesi (?) Cheyenne, Lakota Sioux, Apache, Brazilian - singer.

Lael Marie (?) Cheyenne - model, performance artist, dancer, and choreographer.

Shelley Morningsong (?) Cheyenne / Dutch - singer-songwriter.

Lakisha Flores (?) Cheyenne, Crow, Mexican - model.

Alaina Buffalo Spirit (?) Cheyenne - artist.

Lauren Small Rodriguez (?) Cheyenne - artist.

Shiloh McCormick (?) Cheyenne, Crow - basketball player.

Harvey Pratt (1941) Cheyenne, Arapaho - painter and sculptor.

Pete DePoe (1943) Cheyenne, Arapaho, Ojibwe, Siletz, Tututni, Unspecified Iroquois, French, German - drummer.

Lance Henson (1944) Cheyenne, Oglala Lakota Sioux, Cajun - poet.

Edgar Heap of Birds (1954) Cheyenne - painter, drawer, sculptor, printmaker, installation artist, and conceptual artist.

Merlin Little Thunder (1956) Cheyenne - artist.

Rod Rondeaux (1958) Cheyenne, Crow - actor and stuntman.

Bently Spang (1960) Cheyenne, Crow - multidisciplinary artist, writer, and curator.

Chris Eyre (1969) Cheyenne, Arapaho - director and producer.

Mark Webber (1980) Cheyenne, Finnish / Unknown - actor, director, and screenwriter.

Tommy Orange (1982) Cheyenne, Arapaho - author.

Levi Horn (1986) Cheyenne - football player.

Willi White (1989) 1/4 Cheyenne, 3/4 Oglala Lakota Sioux - director.

Ben Pease (1989) Cheyenne, Crow, Hidatsa, German - artist.

Stryk-9 / Kunu Dittmer (?) Cheyenne / Ho-Chunk - rapper, MC, and producer.

Tryston Skye (?) Cheyenne, Chickasaw, Otoe, Missouria, Peoria - actor.

N. Bird Runningwater (?) Cheyenne, Mescalero Apache - filmmaker.

Phillip Whiteman, Jr. (?) Cheyenne - storyteller, presenter, dancer, horse trainer, and consultant.

Gabriel Scabby (?) Cheyenne, Akimel O’odham, Maricopa - musician.

Leo Killsback (?) Cheyenne - filmmaker.

Pierce Biglefthand (?) Cheyenne - singer.

Jacob Bearchum (?) Cheyenne, Bitterroot Salish, Walla Walla, Umatilla, Cayuse - filmmaker.

George Dull Knife (?) Cheyenne, Oglala Lakota Sioux - actor.

James Temte (?) Cheyenne, Unspecified White - painter.

Carlin Bear Don't Walk (?) Cheyenne, Crow - artist.

George Curtis Levi (?) Cheyenne, Arapaho - artist.

Montaño Rain (?) Cheyenne - actor.

NB:

Teresa Littlebird (?) Cheyenne - Two-Spirit (Pronouns Unknown) - dancer.

Jase Roe (?) Cheyenne - Two-Spirit (He/Him/His) - writer and activist.

#cheyenne fc #native fc #poc fc #fc list #rph #task: 171 #task: cheyenne

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ikesenhell · 5 years

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The Light

GLITTER & GOLD, CHAPTER 4. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: LET’S GET BACK INTO IT. Thanks to all my readers who stopped in and @velociraptor-detective for always line editing.

Once upon a time, their parents would all gather around the worn wood table. It was reserved in the town hall for two things: the traditional gatherings (which somehow survived both the fallout and the test of brutal, cruel time, the heavy hands of invaders who so desperately tried to crush every trace of her culture) and long nights spent piecing together matters of state.

Tonight was neither. Instead, they gathered to solve the mystery.

“What do you think the easiest way is?” Ieyasu mused, prying apart stacks of eyewitness reports and missings persons documents.

“Perhaps,” Mitsuhide suggested calmly, “We begin with the locations of missing persons.”

Masamune shook his head and set his boots on the table. Ieyasu smacked them back down. “That won’t show all that much if they all came from the town, would it?”

“Perhaps they are abducted from specific parts of town--the perimeters, or such.”

Mitsunari pulled out his chipped glasses, nearly fumbled them, and somehow settled them on his nose without incident. No one commented. “What if we positioned the sightings?”

Ieyasu wrinkled his nose. “Why?”

“Let’s consider the possibility that these abductions are concurrent with ship sightings as a smokescreen.” He folded his fingers together, purple eyes flickering with thought. “If that is the case, then perhaps plotting its path would provide us valuable insight into where the perpetrators may strike next.”

Mitsuhide allowed a ghostly smile. “And if that path is variable?”

“Then we can plot your idea. It’s simply a matter of starting.”

Masamune nodded decisively. “Alright. How long do you think this will take?”

Ieyasu sighed in tandem with Mitsuhide’s laugh. Mitsunari just blinked and smiled. “Only a day or so.”

“If we left the computer here to his own devices,” Ieyasu scowled. “So I guess we’re forced to help him out. He’d mess it up otherwise. And what are you doing, exactly, while we’re up to this?”

He took too long to say, and he knew it. The moment his eyes wandered from them, Ieyasu sputtered a simple, “Don’t.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You don’t have to. They tried to kidnap her, and you think going out there to meet them is going to do anything?”

“Meet them? I think you’ve got the wrong idea of what I’m doing.” Masamune smiled and waved at them, dipping back out the door. “I’m not doing anything that foolish.”

---

The motorcycle would be too loud normally. Fortunately, he had the means to silence it, even if it meant taking a few minutes to exchange the mufflers.

Unfortunately for him, that meant she found him.

“What are you doing?”

Masamune glanced up, screwdriver clenched between his teeth, and tried his best to look unassuming--while doing mechanic work at one in the morning on his muffler, of course. She brushed back a lock of her hair. Hell, but the moonlight did some magic on her, didn't it? In the daylight she was beautiful. In the nighttime, cast against the stars and her black hair reflecting silver, she was a creature of the sky. “Nuffing.”

“Sure looks like something.” She crossed her arms. “Going out for a ride?”

“Aww, naw essact--” Finally he spit out the tool. “Not exactly.”

Her dark eyes roved over the small kit he’d prepared: the machete, a bottle of water, a can of ancient mace, a flare gun, and some chalk. “You’re going to scope them out.”

“Maybe,” he hedged. “We need to at least track down where your would-be kidnappers are, don’t’cha think?”

She didn't answer that. Instead, she headed back towards Ieyasu’s house and disappeared inside, the screen door fluttering shut behind her. Masamune shrugged and went back to the screws, only to startle when it flew open again a couple minutes later. Rather than her work clothes, she’d thrown on a black jacket and a pair of thick boots.

“No.” Masamune zipped up his tools and chucked them closer to the house. “You’re not coming.”

Boldly, she straddled his motorcycle anyway, snatching up a helmet. “Make me.”

“Listen here--”

“I’m listening.”

“I just got you away from them, d’y’think I really want to put you right back where they can take you again?”

“And they could take you.” She flipped down the visor and patted the seat. “Let’s go, big guy.”

Masamune gripped his hair. “They don’t want me as bad as they want you!”

“So you’re going to have me sit here and play the pretty damsel in distress while you work it out? I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “We’re going to have each other’s backs. I want this solved as much as you do. Come on. Do you have a map?”

“A map?” He echoed. “Why?”

“To mark anything suspicious. Easier than trying to memorize it in the dark.”

She had a point. Defeated, Masamune slumped back into the house, stole one from a rolltop desk and slipped back out, remembered he didn't have anything to write with, ran back inside and gathered a fistful of pens, and returned once more. “You ready?”

“Ready as I can be.”

As much as he wanted to deny it, Masamune was a bundle of nerves as he kicked his legs over the side of the motorcycle. Her hands knotted tight against his stomach, head pressed into his shoulder blades.

Here went nothing--or everything.

The engine was kitten-purr quiet as they pulled away from Waŋblí Hoȟpi. Out into the plains they rolled. Stars winked and spiraled overhead. The moon shuttered away behind the clouds. Off in the distance, lightning shivered over the mountains, but it was too far for thunder to roll. Grasses turned to corn and wheat. Deathly quiet rippled through the stalks, only the crush of a gravel road under their tires.

Suddenly she rapped her knuckles against his chest.

Masamune didn't need the ‘why’. He shut off the lights and the engine, and they sat in the quiet, wind gusting between them. She shivered and pressed closer. There--there in the neat rows, a small green light was flickering.

Bingo.

He kicked off his motorcycle and dragged it into a ditch while she marked their location on the map. Into the field they crept. Thank god for the wind--every crack and snap underfoot threatened to give them away. What if they were discovered? He had no idea what awaited them on the other side. Was it a dozen of the maniacs? Was it just one? Was it a simple light? Who knew. His heart pounded in his mouth.

At last, they reached a clearing, a small house sitting in the center. On the porch was spray painted a simple message: THE GODS COME FOR FAITHFUL

“I bet you a whole jar of honey this place is involved,” Masamune muttered. “Mark it down on the map.”

The screen door on the porch swung open, shattering the silence. Too late. They broke into a run, desperately diving back into the corn. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Shots ripped through the stalks behind them, dirt spraying into their eyes. She screamed. Masamune wrenched her forward by the wrist.

“Go! Gogogo!”

Ahead of them, the green light winked. Shouts echoed behind them. Desperately they plunged deeper and deeper into the field, pressing on through the alarm and gunshots and crash of corn, and then--

“Shit,” she hissed.

“Fuck,” Masamune assented. They both staggered into the new clearing, a high wall separating them from freedom and only an ancient silo well to the right of them. It was the thing winking green, a faint light from some unknowable technology filtering through the water from deep, deep below. A dead end. “Get behind me.”

“Masa, a machete isn’t going to do anything against a shotgun--”

He knew that. Still, he pulled her back and drew the blade. There was only one good chance at this, and if he was lucky, they wouldn’t fire blindly into the clearing and risk destroying a perfectly good wall. God, he knew he shouldn’t have brought her. Too late. Readying himself, he ground his heels into the dirt and lifted his sword arm.

“Wait--” She gasped, wrenching at his backpack. “Wait, wait--”

“What are you doing? You’re throwing me off--!”

The intruders crashed through the last line of corn separating them--three men, guns in hand and at the ready. Masamune braced himself for the inevitable. If they were lucky, she’d still get away--

“Think fast, fuckers!” She shouted.

FOOM!

The explosion of flame almost blinded his good eye. One of the assailants screamed; part of the field went up, the fire rendering them in perfect clarity. She, still clutching tight to the flare gun, yanked at Masamune’s arm.

“Let’s go!”

“You’re a fucking genius!”

“Iknowlet’sgo!”

He couldn’t help himself. As they tore back into the field, leaving the flailing attackers behind them, Masamune released a whoop.

“Shut up!” But she was laughing too; that anxious, giddy laugh of being alive. “Run faster!”

“I could beat you in a running contest, don’t get at me!”

“You aren’t right now! Consider it one!”

Somehow they made it back to the road and scrabbled onto the motorcycle, peeling off as fast as they dared toward Waŋblí Hoȟpi. The sky rumbled threateningly. Masamune just leaned back his head and bellowed another laugh.

“I completely forgot about the flare gun!”

“You’re welcome!” She huffed unconvincingly, shoving the helmet on. “I saved our skins!”

“You did! Hell, Kitten, you were a mean aim with it too!”

The wind picked up. Masamune leaned into the comforting handlebars and exhaled for the first time in what felt like forever. Her head pressed into his back and--not for the first time--he wondered what it would feel like if it were her soft cheek, not the hard plastic helmet. Prairie air thick with impending rain swelled in his chest.

And so did questions.

“So,” he pondered aloud, turning into the main street. “Think I learned something to question.”

She stirred against him. “What’s that?”

They pulled up alongside Ieyasu’s house and staggered off the motorcycle, discarding their helmets. Masamune ruffled his hair to bring life back into it. “That light in the well.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s the same color as the ship, isn’t it?”

Her pause went on long enough that the sky interrupted them. The first droplet pinged off the metal frame, the second hitting him square in the nose. As they raced inside, the patter turned to a wall of water, drowning out everything except the cacophony of rain. She wrung out her hair over the sink and stared out the window.

“You might be into something,” she agreed at last. “But what, exactly? How would a light from some pre-War tech have anything to do with a ghost ship? They’re just the same color. Is that a coincidence?”

“Maybe,” Masamune agreed, carding his hand through her hair to detangle it. “I’m a dumbass. But I couldn’t help but notice it. It makes me think.”

“Mmm. Think what?”

His mind was already elsewhere. She rested her hip into the cabinetry and let him braid her hair the way he’d learned so long ago from her father, show her love in one of the ways he could let himself. There was no telling where he’d be in a year. He had to take his pleasures where he could, and she--she deserved something more stable than him.

But god. He wanted it so badly he could almost taste her.

“That maybe,” he allowed at last, never clarifying what he was talking about, “there’s a chance.”

#Ikesen #Ikemen Sengoku #Ikesen Masamune #Ikesen post apocalyptic au #The Light #G&G #Glitter & Gold #my writing #lakota MC

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writing-with-chaos · 5 years

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Cynical Chaos: Ariana

Ariana Salem did not know how to die quietly.

For as long as she’d had powers, she’d heard every warning: Keep your head down. Don’t draw attention. Pretend to be normal, and they won’t hurt you. Don’t ever fight back, or you’re just as bad as they are. But when Panacea attacked, viewing her and the other hosts as a threat, she did not heed the warnings. She refused to cower. They wanted a monster, and she gave it to them.

A year later, the war has no end in sight. Ariana’s greatest strength has become her weakness. She does not know how to die quietly. But every battle, every loss, every minute she spends with her loved one’s lives weighing on her shoulders, is tearing her apart. When strange storms begin popping up around the world, it’s revealed one of Panacea’s prisoners has escaped. This could be the lead needed to tip the balance back in the hosts’ favor, or the breaking point for Ariana’s health.

YEET I’m finally posting about my ocs! =D This is the MC and narrator to the story! Every Sunday, along with my wip progress, I’ll post a new character for y’all to meet.

In the mean time, here’s a little bit more about Ria below:

Before you go on, you can see the other characters here:

Damali

Sabin

BIO:

Full Name: Ariana Ilane Salem Nickname(s): Ria Pronunciations: Ah-ree-ah-nuh/Ee-layn/Say-lum, Ree-uh Age: 15 Height: 5'0 Birthday: April 18th, 1990 Species: Human Race: American Indian (Oglala Lakota) Personality: Ria is very sarcastic and abrasive on the surface, but caring and helpful when she softens up. There’s a lot of righteous anger wrapped in this small package, and she’s a bit distrustful and quick to judgment. Loves to swear. Would die for anyone considered a friend. Values others' needs more than her own. Depression and Anxiety(TM). Favorite Things: Painting, Sketching, Traveling, The Mediterranean, Teen Dramas/Movies (like think Gossip Girl, The OC, Mean Girls, etc), Fighting in a Friendly Setting, Cooking, Street Art, Guitars, The Rez, Unci (her Grandma), Listening to Music, Dancing, Hanging out With Her Friends, Being With Sabin, Coffee-Flavored and Bitter-Flavored Sweets Least Favorite Things: Authority, Rigid Rules, Pretentiousness, Guilt Trips, Superiority Complexes, Blood, Order/Spotlessness/Tidiness, Drugs

#writeblr #writing #original writing #young adult #OCs #OC #WIPs #WIP #moodboards #cynical chaos

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ggliveblog · 6 years

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Gunnerkrigg Court: Chapter 3 part 1 (title page)

So considering how fascinating the title page is I decided to dedicate the first post to it.

I’m sure those of you who know how I work are not surprised.

Stuff like this is like cocaine to me. :D

Before we continue I wish to address something I discovered while reading chapter 2. It’s an alchemy symbol. I recognize most symbols since I find them fascinating. But it was so late at night I didn’t look into it until yesterday.

And then I saw the title page for chapter 3

MORE SYMBOLS I AM SO HAPPY! XD

So the symbol turned out to be for the element Antimony. Which also happens to be the element our MC is named after. Very interesting. Let’s investigate further.

And thanks to this neat little site. I have been made aware it also symbolizes wild spirit. Wolves in particular. Very interesting and I’ll say why.

Wolf lecture time :D

Many peoples throughout the world respected and thought very positively of wolves. Among the various peoples and tribes of North America, wolf represents not only creation, but also death and rebirth. Wolf is also seen as a teacher-animal to the peoples of California and the Great Plains. They saw the wolf retreat into the mountains and hills to get away from humans, and made the connection between wolves and high places (in other words, spirit). In the Lakota language, the word for wolf, sunkmanitu, means “divine dog.”

In western Europe, wolves were not seen as positively. In both German and Norse mythology, wolf was a symbol of destruction and death. Vikings saw wolf as a representation of Fenris (their Chaos), who would bite through his chains and consume the sun at the end of time. In an unusual story exhibiting the wolf’s loyalty, in Great Britain, Merlin in his time of madness is kept company by a she-wolf, who stays by his side until he becomes well again. Romulus and Remus, the famous twins in pre-Roman times, were said to have been raised by a she-wolf--even suckled by her.

Wolves are respected nearly everywhere except Europe, where they are instead feared. They are seen as teachers, instructing us in our daily lives and all the troubles that go with them. The lessons wolf teaches are not always easy to swallow, but nevertheless necessary. Wolf is a symbol of guardianship, ritual, loyalty, and spirit. Wolf has the ability to make quick and firm emotional attachments, and often need to trust their own instincts. Thus they teach us to do the same, to trust our hearts and minds, and have control over our own lives.

Antimony is a regarded as a cooperative metal because it works best when it is combined with another metal, notably lead, brass and bronze. It is actually a metalloid that does not react chemically as a metal but has metal-like appearance & physical properties. It is a protective metal and teaches the values of transformation and adaptability. It teaches of wisdom and strength that can be gained from others and also given in return. Antimony represents the free spirit, wild nature or animal power dwelling within all humans. A person can benefit by wearing this symbol when feeling meek.

Governed by the planet Saturn, Lead has dark connections and is related to death and transformation. This toxic metal represents impurities, of the metals as well as the humans and its burning is metaphoric with cleansing and removal of imperfections. It was associated with divination spells. The lead was one of the earliest metals known to man and was widely used by the ancient Romans, Egyptians, Greek, and Chinese.

Now I couldn’t find an animal like with the others but if I looked up the planet it’s connected to then I get this. Saturn historically governs snakes, mice, foxes, dragons, and nocturnal birds of prey such as the owl. It is interesting to note that the owl is commonly misunderstood as a symbol of death.

ANTIMONY is also used for hardening LEAD.

Associated with the planet of the same name, Mercury is an unusual metal that exists in the liquid form at room temperature. It is a toxic metal and is associated with death, mystery, and transformation. It is connected with divination and scrying. Mercury is also related to travel and movement, be it of physical or spiritual nature. The metal was known to the ancient Romans, Greeks, Hindus, and Chinese. The alchemists considered it one of the three principal substances on Earth, along with salt and sulfur. The metal is often also represented by a serpent or snake.

The Roman god he was often accompanied by a cockerel, herald of the new day, a ram or goat, symbolizing fertility, and a tortoise

Similiarities between all three: Common heavy metals, toxic trace elements. (Side note all three along with another element cadmium can be found in never-pregnant women of fertile age.)

Next we have the title. And here is where it gets extra interesting.

Now what’s interesting is that Lead is connected to foxes... and this tale is about a man who is a werefox.

Makes me wonder if we are going to run into a character who will have ties to the element. And if we are going by the legend they will try to attract others. Even though they are a dangerous person with possible ill intentions that could lead to death.

Anyways let’s move on to the ballad itself to see how it relates to the story now.

In a historical context, a rake (short for rakehell, analogous to "hellraiser") was a man who was habituated to immoral conduct, particularly womanising. Often, a rake was also prodigal, wasting his (usually inherited) fortune on gambling, wine, women and song, and incurring lavish debts in the process.

And the werefox claims to want concealment... the action of hiding something or preventing it from being known.

This Reynardine is quite the chrismatic... and seems to merge well with Lead symbolism. Hmmmmm... Interesting.

Anyways Antimony may end up running into someone of a “foxy” nature. Badoom psh.

Also she may have connections with wolves... just saying.

I love Alchemy and wonder how much we will see intertwined with the story. :D

#gunnerkrigg court liveblog #gunnerkrigg court chapter 3 #gc003 #gg liveblogs gunnerkrigg court #gg liveblogs gunnerkrigg court chapter 3 #gg liveblogs

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