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hero2222 · 2 months

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New muse...and material:

Liora

**Gender/Sex:** Female

**Age:** 23

**Height:** 5'6"

**Weight:** 135 lbs.

**Personality:** Liora combines her introspective personality with the laid-back, adventurous spirit. She's fiercely independent and a bit of a loner, preferring the company of her thoughts or the quiet companionship of a few close friends. Her exterior might seem cool and detached, often hiding her emotions behind a facade of indifference. However, beneath this exterior beats the heart of a true hero, driven by a deep-seated desire to make a difference. Liora shuns the spotlight and is uncomfortable with praise, often slipping away after doing something heroic before anyone can even thank her. She expresses herself through her mastery of Flexilum, finding solace in its transformation and the creative outlet it provides.

1. **Flexilum Mastery:** Liora can effortlessly manipulate Flexilum, shifting it between its playful, elastic form and its hardened, protective state. This ability mirrors her dual nature—flexible yet unyielding, reflective yet bold.

2. **Adaptive Constructs:** With a skater's agility and an artist's touch, Liora crafts Flexilum into dynamic constructs for swift movement, armor for defense, or chains to bind. Each creation is a reflection of her mood and intent, sometimes dark and edgy, other times vibrant and energetic.

3. **Defensive Shell:** Preferring defense over outright aggression, Liora can envelop herself or others in Flexilum armor that's tough yet subtly reflective, much like her personality. It's her way of protecting without drawing attention, her form of quiet resistance.

4. **Subdued Influence:** Through the subtle modulation of Flexilum's colors, Liora can dampen hostile intentions or calm a tense situation. This ability allows her to avoid conflicts or resolve them without escalation, staying true to her aversion to the spotlight.

5. **Healer in the Shadows:** Liora uses Flexilum to aid and heal in secret, leaving her mark through the mysterious appearance of Flexilum casts or supports. She doesn't stick around for gratitude, embodying the essence of a hero who doesn't need recognition to do what's right.

Liora is a study in contrasts—stoic yet deeply caring, cool yet passionate about her causes. Her journey is not just about battling external threats but also about navigating the complex terrain of her emotions and relationships. In her, the essence of Flexilum finds its perfect counterpart: an element that is as versatile and profound as the person who wields it.

Flexilum

### Properties

- **Flexibility and Elasticity:** Flexilum is naturally soft and exhibits incredible elasticity, allowing it to stretch and compress with resilience. This property makes it an exceptional material for creating items that can absorb impact or require flexibility.

- **Color Transformation:** Flexilum is light pink in its soft, elastic state, symbolizing its pliable nature. Upon hardening, its color deepens to a rich shade nearing purple, indicating its transition to an incredibly tough state that rivals the hardness of graphite.

- **Adaptability:** This element can adapt to various external stimuli, such as temperature changes or exposure to specific energies, which trigger its transformation between soft and hard states. This adaptability makes it versatile for both creative and practical applications.

- **Energy Conductivity:** While in its hardened state, Flexilum can conduct different forms of energy, including magical, thermal, and electrical energies. This conductivity, combined with its toughness, makes it valuable for technology and magic-based applications.

#### Origin

Flexilum is formed under rare conditions where magical and natural forces converge, such as at ley line intersections or during specific celestial alignments. This rarity and the conditions of its formation add to its value and mystique.

#### Utilization

- **Manipulation Ability:** Individuals with the ability to manipulate Flexilum are rare and possess a deep connection to the natural and emotional world. This connection allows them to guide Flexilum through its transformations, mastering the timing and conditions to harness its full potential.

- **Applications:** The dual nature of Flexilum offers a wide range of applications. In its soft form, it can create protective barriers or cushions. When hardened, it is used for constructing durable structures, crafting weapons or armor, or even forming tools that require both strength and a degree of flexibility to prevent brittleness.

#### Cultural and Mystical Role

Flexilum's unique properties and the nuanced skill required to manipulate it make it a symbol of status, power, and mastery in various cultures. It plays a significant role in rituals, serves as a medium for artistic expression, and could even represent a connection to the divine or the planet's soul.

Integrating Flexilum into your world not only enriches your setting with a unique element but also opens avenues for storytelling through its diverse applications and the depth of interaction required to master its manipulation.

#art #oc #digital artist

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bi-turtle-enthusiast · 1 year

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All my OC outfits in one place!! let's go.

Pink one: Name: Amrita Pronouns: prefers they/them but ok with any Age: 25 Affiliation: Chatrakam Tea Farm Weapon: Catalyst Vision: Dendro Constellation: Camellia Sinensis

Story: Most people who meet Amrita see a gracious, warm, and charming tea farm owner who is as passionate about their customers as they are about cultivating tea. After all, Amrita graduated from the Amurta darshan of the Sumeru Akademiya, using their knowledge to cultivate tea plants to perfection after inheriting the Chatrakam Tea Farm from their father. Most people don't know that Amrita worked just as hard to cultivate their reputation as they did to cultivate their tea. Amrita is well-experienced in the art of playing to peoples' expectations. After all, telling people what they want to hear is something that comes naturally to skilled business owners. Amrita thought they were pretty good at reading people and gauging their desires. That is, until Viraj showed up at their doorstep.

Purple one: Name: Viraj Pronouns: he/they Age: 25 Affiliation: none Weapon: Sword Vision: none Constellation: Telescopia Story: Viraj's time at the Akademiya wasn't really remarkable. When they graduated from Ksharewar, their classmates barely knew them. However, after coming across research by one Dastur Zandik, Viraj became fascinated with Khaenri'ah and its ruins—particularly its mechanisms surrounding ley lines and abyssal energy. Viraj has always had a desire to become stronger. He trained with a sword until he perfected it. He trained his mind and emotions until he didn't need anyone anymore. He learned everything there was to know about ruin mechanisms until he could conduct explorations on his own. Their desire to become self-sufficient surpassed everything, including their family and friends. They stopped desiring pure self-sufficiency—they wanted omnipotence. He wanted to attain godhood. So, when he heard about a device that could control abyssal energy, he decided to pursue it at all costs. Even if that meant revisiting his childhood friend Amrita.

Yellow one: Name: Surya Pronouns: she/they Age: ??? Affiliation: Spantamad Weapon: none Vision: none Constellation: Firmamentum

Story: Surya is quite the enigma. No one entirely knows where she's from. Nor what she does. All most people know is that she's one of the most prolific figures of the Spantamad darshan. Her research into ley lines and the nuances of elemental energy is extremely detailed and well-documented, meticulous to the extremes. Most people are a bit afraid of her—such a respectable academic figure would surely be aloof and too busy to entertain small talk, right? Not even counting the fact that she radiates an almost godlike aura, commanding respect with even the smallest of gestures. The truth is, she's just a bit of an introvert who gets a bit shy when starting conversations. Those who know her, however, know that she's the most genuine, warm, and supportive person you'll ever meet. As for her godlike aura, well, that's because she is in fact a literal god. She doesn't try to hide it. People just never really ask. Not even her best friend Amrita.

Gray?? Green?? one: Name: Kal [pronounced KUHL] (this is not their real name but they've been going by it for decades. no one knows why) Pronouns: ok with they/them, don't really have a preference Age: 32 Affiliation: Vahumana Weapon: none Vision: none Constellation: Umbra Sectator

Story: Kal has always shied away from the spotlight. They hate taking the lead, they hate making decisions, they hate being noticed. They never lead or co-lead any sort of research during their time in the Vahumana darshan—they managed to scrape together credits to graduate by reviewing and editing a wide variety of different projects. Their dedication the the integrity of research and the scientific method is impressive—they managed to secure a decent amount of Akademiya funding and a modest house due to their dedication to reviewing older research and re-evaluating it by modern standards, bringing previously buried research back into the spotlight and reviewing research that was previously regarded as the unquestionable truth. Unfortunately, this reviewed research just happened to include the works of a particular Ksharewar researcher who happened to be really into Khaenriahn ley line mechanisms. Which led a certain Viraj to drag Kal out of their tranquil existence of all-nighters fueled by Amrita's extra-caffeinated black tea and not leaving their house for days.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oc #oc artwork #genshin oc

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little-shiny-sharpies · 1 year

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Been thinking abt my wow insert having my selective mutism…

like, imagine being Wrathion, and trying to orchestrate an attack to reclaim the last thing you can probably call a home and Alexstraza sends some dracthyr after you to help but she doesn’t say anything she’s just staring at you. You’re flaring theatrics for this dramatic moment in your life and this chick will not say a single word and it’s slightly creeping you out but you know she’s listening because she’s nodding and clearly reacting to what you’re doing and that’s the nicest thing anybody’s done for you all week, and she helps you plan out the attack but she still doesn’t say anything so you just think she’s shy but now you’re trying to deal with your uncle stealing your spotlight and she’s still not talking but she is pouncing on djaridins and giant spiders like a feral raptor to bring you all her keys and gently push them to you. Then she stares at you for 5 minutes before she flies away to return sometime between 3 hours or 7 days. She sometimes trills or chirps at you and she “hmm”d at you once and you’re gonna call that a win and you can’t wait to see her again and crap you didn’t ask her name.

or imagine being Kalecgos and trying to deal with your magic-not-working problem and Khadgar sends you a dracthyr to help out and she seems really nice and helps you out so much but you realize like 20 minutes later that she doesn’t talk.. at all? So you ask if she can talk and she nods and you go “Ah okay.” like you knew what to do with that information but now you have more questions but you don’t want to pry and nows not the time. Then you unfortunately have to cull an infested gnoll population so you ask her to help and oh dear lord she’s using her teeth on them why would you do that. Then halfway through your ley line magic fiasco she just stops and stares at you at random intervals and you’re getting a little worried she’s gonna bite you but she just gives you a shy smile and waves and you’re talking to friendly locals who offer info and food. Then you’re eating soup while she helps with a funeral and she’s solemn and sweet and there’s no sign of the feral raptor that you saw in the woods and you’re gonna unpack those emotions later but for now throw out the bag and then you go back to your house to call your family but your buddy shows up and then you get jumped by an electric wielding neanderthal cult that almost knocks you out and she’s fully committed to defending you with her life even thought she’s known you for 3 hours tops and you still don’t know her name. Then afterwards she comes back every 3 hours or few days and she brings you soup and always stares at you for 5 minutes before flying off again and you really need to ask Khadgar what her name is

#shiny speaks #💙✨This must be magic✨💙#🖤👑do you trust me? 👑🖤

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lihikainanea · 2 years

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lei this idea has been ruminating and it’s bill having an extremely vivid dream, like the ones he got after ‘it’, that’s tiger leaving bill to be with gustaf romantically, finding out they had been sleeping together. it hits from a place of losing her, but also being betrayed by the two people he trusted most. of course it’s a dream, but it can’t leave his mind, the words she said, imagery of them having sex. eventually tiger realizes he’s pulled away which is when he confesses, embarrassed as hell, but she has nothing but love for her big dude. it turns into that sex where it’s so passionate and as much as tiger hates eye contact, he needs it. she’s on top and he initially tries to be on top, but she stops him. it’s so raw and intimate, tears start to stream out of his eyes, all the pent up inner insecurities and emotions flowing out. as he comes, she cradled his head to her neck, hushing him and being so sweet to him.

Oh goddddddddd MY SOFF HEART NANI STOP IT

STOP IT RIGHT NOW.

Listen, I am absolutely victim of those situations where I dream something, and then wake up MAD AS HELL at the person over something they did in my dream. it's also equally confusing, because usually when I dream they're not so much dreams as they are premonitions--they, eventually, always happen in some form. And just to add an extra layer of spice to my life, I also can kind of get confused with timings in my dream land and my reality and I'll dream of something that I'm pretty convinced already happened, and then I can't remember which one the real version is.

Witchy shit, it's fun friends (not).

In any case, what I low-key love here is that you kind of honed in on Bill's insecurities. Because let's face it--I think to be an actor, or to be in the public eye at all, you actually have to be remarkably insecure, with a mild hint of self-loathing. I think most people who find success in the spotlights are ones who, deep down, need and crave a type of validation from complete strangers, a type of adoration from the masses. And I don't think it's a bad thing, but I think it's also why a lot of famous people seem to have a double personality, a Jekyll and Hyde situation going on--they have one personality that they can safely project onto strangers for adoration, and they have a much more vulnerable, much more private side that they keep to themselves and for their loved ones.

And I think growing up in a big family, Bill never didn't have a taste of the limelight. He grew up not knowing if peers were approaching him for genuine friendship, or if they were approaching him for fame by association. He grew up always questioning everyone's intentions, being weary of new people, he grew up with eyes in the back of his head and that feeling only intensified when he, himself, became famous.

Tiger always tells him he has a slight paranoia in his overall being, and he doesn't argue. Bill can sense a photo being taken of him, from way across the room. He can pick out the shutter click of a camera phone in the middle of a death metal concert, and he can tell you exactly where it's coming from.

One of Bill's biggest fears is someone exploiting his vulnerable side, somebody who doesn't have his consent to witness him in that way. It's things like a quiet moment out with tiger, which can sometimes put him on edge for days before and after because he worries that someone took a sneaky picture of him. It's how exposed he feels just doing normal things like his groceries, knowing that a camera can go off and there's nothing he can do to stop it. Bill lives in constant fear that the side he keeps private will be intruded upon and blasted out to the fandom, and it's something he holds so sacred.

So I don't think it's AT ALL misplaced that when he has a horrible dream of betrayal, a dream of his biggest vulnerabilities being taken advantage of--I don't think it's at all wrong that it would be of tiger and Gustaf sleeping together.

Because those two? They are the biggest protectors that Bill has. Those are the two people that he shields himself with, the two people who will fight to the death to conserve what he considers sacred, the two people he openly and comfortably shares his vulnerability with, and the two he goes to for comfort and solace.

And consequently, they are the two who could hurt him the most.

So when Bill is having a bad week, maybe something did happen--a sneaky photo he didn't know was being taken, an intrusion on a quiet night out with friends--it really sends Bill for a loop, and can put him in a bad place for a few days. Tiger supports him however she can--he usually isn't up for leaving the house, so she cocoons him in safety at home--keeps the curtains drawn, builds little blanket forts around him. Hell, she probably even gives him her phone for a few days--and it's not because she would EVER do anything to betray his trust, and it's not because he would EVER think she would--but it's safety thing, for him. And the fact that tiger offers it up willingly, offers him just that added layer of safety in knowing that literally the only devices in the whole house that can capture these private moments are in his hands and completely under his control--he needs that.

But like with anything that is weighing on his mind--then the dreams start. Tiger's been with him a few times when the nightmares happened, it's usually after a role where he really had to immerse himself in a dark character for a long time. He wakes up sweating, sometimes screaming, thrashing. He breathes heavy, almost hyperventilating, and tiger has to throw herself at him just to help him calm down. She has to sit on his lap and pull him into her chest, let him breathe her in, let him feel her. She has to talk him down from it. And he needs her for that, in those weeks he constantly seeks her out, touches her, cuddles with her--just for some sense of safety.

But this time is different, and she notices it right away. He doesn't thrash, but he does scream--and when he wakes up, she crawls into his lap and presses into him but he doesn't hold her. Tiger doesn't make much of it, she just wants him to get whatever it is he needs. Whether that's more touch or no touch at all--whatever he needs.

Except the next day, instead of seeking her out, he's....distant. Withdrawn. He doesn't say much, doesn't seek out any affection, and instead responds halfheartedly (if at all) at her attempts. She, in turn, dials it back a notch too--thinking maybe he needs some space this round.

But the next night, it's the same thing. And the day after--he's withdrawn again, dark circles under his eyes, and he's avoiding her gaze. He's actually avoiding her entirely.

So before he gets too far away on her--Bill has a reclusive side that is always just bubbling, barely contained, beneath the surface--that night when he goes to bed on his own, she gives him a few minutes and then she goes to him.

"Billy?" she says quietly from the doorway, "Can I ask you something?"

She sees him sit up in the darkness, rearrange the sheets around him.

"Hmph?" he grunts. She takes it as her cue and walks over, sitting cross legged on the bed in front of him. Bill doesn't raise his eyes.

"Can you tell me what you need?" she asks softly, "Because I don't think I'm giving it to you. And I want to. I just don't know what it is."

Bill stays quiet, his eyes still downcast.

"Bud, hey. Look at me," she insists, and when he doesn't she takes his cheeks in her palms and raises his face to hers. There's something in his eyes, a broken look struck across his features, and her gentle prodding suddenly turns to genuine concern.

"What is it bud?" she asks.

"It's nothing."

He pulls his face from her hands but she's quick to grab it again, and tilt it back to hers.

"It's not nothing," she says, "Talk to me?"

Bill sighs--heavily, his whole body sags--and he runs a hand across his eyes.

"It's the dreams," he says, and she nods understandingly. She goes to say something, but he cups a hand over her mouth.

"They're different this time," he says, and there's a long pause. Tiger just waits.

"I keep dreaming that you and Gustaf are fucking," he says bluntly.

Tiger, bless her heart, wants to squeak. She wants to ask him if he's out of his goddamn mind. She wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of it--but she doesn't. This is real, to him. And it's hurting him. Every single fibre of her being wants to protect him, and wants him to know that she's his.

She takes his hand off of her mouth.

"We're not," she says, "But you know that already. So let me tell you something else that you know already."

"Tiger--"

But it's her turn to silence him.

"It's you, Bill. You. Only you. All this time, it's only you," she tells him, and she doesn't let him look away, "You are the one I want to be with. You are the one who protects me, makes me feel safe. You are the one who makes me feel so goddamn good. It's you, and it's only you. Yes?"

He's silent for a long beat, but then he nods slowly.

"Say it," she urges, as she takes her hand from his mouth.

"Yes," he rasps.

"No, all of it."

"It's me," he whispers, "Only me."

"Only you."

She kisses him long and deep, and for the first time in a few days, she feels his arms snake around her waist to hold her.

"What happened this week, what got you this way...what do you feel?" she asks. He sighs, and thinks about it.

"Exposed," he says finally, "Vulnerable. In a way I didn't want to be. With people I didn't want to see it."

She nods, tracing over his nose with the tip of her finger.

"You are my biggest protector, bud. You are my biggest confidant. You make me feel safe, you make me feel shielded from the bullshit of the world, and I...I show a side of myself to you, that nobody else is allowed to see. You know that," she says, and she blushes a bit at the last part. He smiles softly, kissing her fingertip.

" I can't imagine how I would feel if others saw that part of me, when I didn't want them to," she continues, "Your dreams make sense, Billy. You are the one person in this world who knows me better than anyone. And if my nightmares were going to exploit that vulnerability, if my mind was going to get me all fucked up over something that happened--then they'd hit on that too."

He's quiet, and she takes the opportunity to kiss him long and deep again.

"Granny used to say that our dreams tell us our biggest joys, and our nightmares tell us our biggest fears--at the heart of it all," she says, "What happened this week fucked you up. Something took advantage of a fear you have, and it was very real. And it just spiralled from there."

He sighs, and she scoots in closer to him.

"For as much as you protect me, as much safety as you provide me, I think maybe I provide a little bit of that back to you," she whispers.

"You do," he interrupts, "God tiger, you save me. Every goddamnd day, you save me."

"So then it makes sense that when you need some saving, when you're feeling a bit vulnerable, that's the trick your brain plays on you," she says, "Your biggest fear, at the heart of it all. And for you, it's that someone you show your true side to--the few people privileged to get to see that--would betray you."

He doesn't say anything, he just holds onto her and tries to ease down and roll, so he's on top of her--but she stops him, rolling back so he's pinned beneath her.

"It's you," she says, and she presses her hips forward a bit. He sighs, pulling her closer and burying his face in her neck.

"It's you," she says again when she feels him inhale deeply, "And if you're up for it, I'd like to prove it to you."

#bill skarsgard #BFF!Bill #bill skarsgard drabble #bill skarsgard fic #bill skarsgard fiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfic

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katieskarlette · 2 years

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My WoW Villains Tier List

Kakio made a WoW villains Tier List, and I filled out my version here. This is based completely on my own preferences and interests, not on their power level or even necessarily their impact on lore. My personal biases toward the black dragonflight are very much in evidence. ;)

S-Tier:

Arthas -- Doesn’t really need an explanation. He’s iconic. His theme music, the epic cinematics, his personal connections to so many other characters, the wide impact the Scourge had on Azeroth, the Shakespearean fall of a shining hero into a despicable villain...he is THE villain.

Illidan -- Villain, anti-hero, whatever he is, I love the smarmy, snarky bastard. He has ridiculous schemes and fails a lot, but he never gives up, and he never asks his underlings to do things he wouldn’t do himself.

Nefarian -- His high ranking is definitely due to my extensive headcanons and fanfics, but really, how can you not enjoy a mad scientist dragon?

Denathrius -- I’ve said it many times, he should have been the headlining villain of Shadowlands. He may be a new character, but he’s got deep ties to past lore through the dreadlords in a way that feels way more organic than “the Jailer was scheming behind the scenes all the time.” His aesthetic is badass, and I’m a sucker for suave, haughty villains.

Deathwing -- I’d rank him higher than low S-Tier if only more of the scheming, clever character from the books appeared in-game. I still love the big fiery galoot, though.

A-Tier:

Kael’thas -- I almost put him in S-Tier, but settled for high A. He’s a complex character with a rich history, understandable motivations, and a gorgeous aesthetic.

Azshara -- She deserved her own expansion, not just a tier of BfA. Ancient, brilliant, immensely powerful, confident, cunning, beautiful, elegant, ruthless...she’s got it all.

Onyxia -- I wanted to rank her higher due to the aforementioned black dragonflight bias, but she got edged out by her big brother simply because I like his personality more. She certainly deserves A-Tier, though.

Kil’jaeden -- He had a long, significant history in the lore, and his personal past with Velen and Archimonde made him compelling.

Garrosh -- His story got so much development from TBC through WoD that, although his swerve into villainy wasn’t as smoothly depicted as it could have been, he earned his time in the spotlight instead of just appearing out of nowhere.

Gul’dan -- Truly the most evil guy in the cosmos. A lot of other villains I both love and love to hate. Gul’dan is only the latter, but he’s so good at being unapologetically horrible that he earns my respect. (R.I.P. Varian, though.)

B-Tier:

Sylvanas: She’d be A-Tier if it wasn’t for the endless fandom drama about her, and the way Blizzard dangled her mysterious master plan in front of us for years only to have to it amount to...well, Shadowlands.

N’Zoth -- Hugely significant in lore and tied to my beloved black dragonflight, but given a disappointing finale (for now) in game.

Yogg-Saron -- Was felt all over Northrend and added a different kind of unsettling creepiness to WotLK over and above what the army of the undead provided.

Kel’Thuzzad -- Interesting backstory, long history in lore, lots of personality, and he loves his kitty cat. LOL

C-Tier:

Sargeras -- Powerful, yes. Iconic, yes. Fleshed out individually? Not so much.

Ragnaros -- Too much nostalgia to rank any lower than C-Tier, but “Bwahahaha burn burn burn” as a personality/motivation only gets you so far.

Archimonde -- Not as charismatic or interesting as Kil’Jaeden, but still a big deal.

C’thun -- Not as much individual personality as Yogg-Saron and N’Zoth, but AQ is epic and the vanilla nostalgia is strong. Plus those whispers are still legitimately creepy.

Lei Shen -- Unique kind of villain, cool lightning aesthetic, but didn’t have any influence outside of his own expansion.

D-Tier:

Grom Hellscream -- DrAeNor iZ FrEe!!!!1 Sigh. So much wasted potential and such an undeserved “redemption,” if you can even call it that

Millhouse Manastorm -- He’s amusing in small doses, and he gets points for not being a hyper-masculine hulk like so many villains, but the memes are getting old at this point.

Argus -- He was there. We fought him. There were mild feels about how he’s been tortured and twisted for millenia. He died. Okay. On to the next thing.

F-Tier:

Zovaal -- Surprise, surprise. He had potential and I really wanted to like him, but holy cow did he fall flat. I could rant at length, but I won’t.

#rambling about wow #villians

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dourpeep · 3 years

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Something that I’ve been meaning to write inspired by @ellitx (contains 18+ works) as well as these songs: The Gentle Zephyr, Soldier, Poet, King and Found/Tonight.

It took a bit longer than intended because I had to take a moment to stop because I started sobbing partway through editing (':

They all Fall

Summary: Swirling around the room, you spend one last night with the one you love.

Contains: Himmel x bard!Reader, unnamed bard (Himmel), fluff, ANGST, major character death, last moments described

All around the room of the packed tavern, you see the faces of your friends. They crowd around tables, pulling chairs from others and loudly regaling tales long past and of what they want to do once tomorrow has passed. It makes the unease melt away, slipping down between the floorboards.

After all, not a single sour look passes your gaze, not when there’s so much to be excited for.

Behind you, someone speaks out loud and clear—Himmel, in his plain cape and twin braids, shoulder occupied by the very little ‘elf’ that drove him to be where he stands today. The determination he exudes only is made tenfold by his charm.

“Tonight, we celebrate! So raise your glass and drink each drop like it’s your last!”

They all cheer with bright eyes and smiles and so do you, raising your glass high and tapping it to the rim of another’s.

Never did you think that you’d be here tonight, surrounded by so many who share those views. That the seemingly far reaches of freedom would become so so close after years of only knowing stormy grey skies with razor whipped winds so violent. No longer will the people of Mond cast their eyes to gloom with little hope left—not when your numbers are strong and you’re sure that you will come out victorious.

It is the people, you think, who will finally be free.

But for now, you surrender to the itchiness of your fingers to pluck at strings.

Picking your drink from where it sits, you stand atop a table with the help of a man with fiery hair and call out.

“My friends, a toast, if I may?”

The tavern falls quiet.

“To all of us, in our merriment, and the surety of the fall of the tyrant god-king, Decarabian—” Raucous cheers break out. In the midst, you add, “And to the prosperity of our land, our home, and our country—Mondstadt!”

Your cheeks hurt with how wide your smile is, heart nearly bursting with joy and it’s clear you aren’t alone.

So, as a bard does, you bend and pick up your beloved instrument in lieu of your drink.

“For tonight, we are together, and tonight will be the last we sit shackled by his reign!”

Though the strum of your instrument melds with the voices of your people, it’s loud and clear. The perfect song—one you’d recently completed with the help of your bard friend.

A clap. Another, until you have a steady beat to go along with the nodding of your head in time.

“There will come a soldier, who carries a might sword!”

Laughter breaks out as you flex one arm, nodding back at the red-haired knight sitting below.

As the patrons start stomping their feet, the steady pounding lively and their hands clapping to urge you on as you sweep across the room, a big smile beams across your face.

Fingers pluck deft at strings and shift to change chords.

“He will tear your city down—oh lei, oh lai, oh lord!”

Voice ringing out to join the masses, you shift and hop off of your impromptu stage to mingle as you perform.

Just a few tables away, Himmel watches you in awe.

You’re so bright—bright as the sun that Barbatos has chimed to him about, brighter than the millions of stars just beyond the dense tempest of clouds. Though all eyes are on you in the spotlight, he hopes that you see the way he watches you.

Longing, soft.

It didn’t occur to him that you’d rush over between verses to take his hand—

One of your hands wraps around his and tugs him out of his seat in a rush, the life that he sees in your joy contagious.

Your instrument is left abandoned at his seat in lieu of lacing both of your hands together. It isn’t needed when the heart of the tavern buzzes with triumph.

Together, you sing, the words ingrained in your minds and hearts.

“There will come a poet—!”

You wink and Himmel’s bell-like laugh rings out as the two of you dance across the uneven wooden floors.

You trip and stumble a few times, neither of you well versed in dancing, but with how alive you feel holding his warm, warm hands—you don’t find yourself caring.

Just like that, you’re all that his stormy eyes can see. The thrill he feels in his chest being by your side is unmatched and he knows that when the time is right, he’ll tell it to you. Especially with the budding feeling that they’re returned.

But for now, he’s satisfied with the way you gaily spin and prance between the masses of tables and chairs.

When the song finally ends and you’re left breathless, grinning at your companion, he wraps his arms around you tight. Like a fresh gust of wind, he sweeps you up in his arms and you gasp in surprise.

Himmel is grinning wider than you’ve ever seen and the twinkle in his eyes makes you wonder if the sea looks as beautiful as they do now. Lips parted and flushed; he says your name.

Your eyes meet. He leans in closer—

Then your feet meet the floor as Amos and the others gather round and request another song. A duet, perhaps. You miss the way that he reaches out to you, too absorbed in the flurry of moments.

If only you weren’t already out of breath from dancing, the feeling fluttering in your chest would ensure it.

You watch as he picks up his lyre, the way that he shines makes your heart flutter in your chest.

If only these moments could last a lifetime.

And then, the day arrives.

When it happened, you were elsewhere, equal parts fighting and protecting. So absorbed in your role of ensuring the safety of your comrades in arms. The irony doesn’t escape you. It’s Barbatos who finds you first when the dust settles and all is quiet, small form zipping around with eyes wide and pleading.

He guides you past the rubble, past Amos where she lay unconscious—her hair spread out like wings and you try to tug away to go to her but your insistent companion chimes and tugs at your hair, your clothing.

Until you’re met with the sight of the knight carefully holding a figure in his arms. From here, you already can see their face. Hisface—

In his tattered cape and twin braids undone.

Himmel.

In this moment, it feels as if you were the one pierced instead.

The cry that tears from your lungs rival that of the chaos of battle, and you collapse, unable to come closer. But little Barbatos presses to your cheek. So you do.

Your fingertips dig into the debris surrounding you as you rise and weakly trudge closer.

He’s barely breathing. Wheezing.

Throat raw, you mumble his name and hold his head up, pressing your forehead to his. In your other hand, you hold both of his and squeeze. His eyes are barely open but they still see you. See the way that the sun shines above.

“It’s alright, we’ll get you patched and it’ll be fine—Just stay awake and I’ll fetch someone so don’t worry I promise I’ll—"

Himmel shakes his head and whispers your name so warm, so tender, so loving, so—

“We did it.”

Through the pain, he smiles. He smiles but you can tell by the way he barely grasps your hand back that he’s slipping.

Another mumble of your name. His head tilts up and his lips meet yours soft.

His last breath, he grants to you.

A last confession, to finally free those very emotions that have been shyly hidden.

It’s not fair.

It’s long since his heart has stopped that you let yourself finally break.

Those very same hands, so warm and fingertips calloused, are now cold. Colder than the sharp, unforgiving winds that have since died out, colder than the chill you feel from the fresh gentle breeze brushing over your skin. You rub at them in attempt to bring back their life.

Desperately, your hand cups a cheek decorated with long dried tears as you sob out the name of the one that gave up everything for a taste of freedom.

With no room to think of the ifs, your cries reach the heavens. To be robbed of the very thing you fought for, to miss it just by a mere few moments and the zip of arrows. It leaves a bittersweet taste that lingers for years to come.

Above you, the sky is blue and a bird soars through the cloudless sea.

#Himmel #Unnamed Bard #Himmel x Reader #Unnamed Bard x Reader #Genshin Impact Himmel #Genshin Impact Unnamed Bard #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fics #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact angst #angst #fics #I could've posted this over like uhh an hour ago if not for me weeping and also trying to decide on a better title so here we are now #I might change the title later #we shall see if I come up with something better aha

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georgiasfm · 3 years

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╰ ･ﾟ. * 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐘 ;

[ scarlett leithold, cis female, she/her ] have you seen GEORGIA CALLOWAY lately ? yeah, i heard they're TWENTY TWO years old and a REALITY TV STAR/PODCAST HOST now in charleston city. i mean, i don’t know if it’s their LEO vibes or that they’re -OBSTINATE and -CAPRICIOUS but also +GREGARIOUS and +EMPYREAN but they remind me of MIND GAMES by BANKS. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble around here.

hey besties ! i’m ley , i’m 20 ( well .... i will be at midnight ) , i go by she / her pronouns , and i’m livin’ in the est timezone ! i unfortunately have a super busy weekend bc it’s my birthday , so i won’t be able to be around as much as i want to be. but i’m gonna do my best to as active as possible ! thankfully i wrote this intro ahead of time so for once it isn’t a complete disaster ( it’s still not good tho so don’t have high expectations ) anyways , here’s miss georgia calloway !!

𝐈 . 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 :

FULL NAME : georgia belle calloway . AGE : twenty - two . DATE OF BIRTH : july 23rd . ASTROLOGY SIGNS : leo sun , aquarius moon , pisces ascendant . GENDER : cis woman . PRONOUNS : she / her / hers . SEXUALITY : bisexual . MOTHER : diane calloway : former pageant & debutante queen turned stay at home mom / trophy wife . FATHER : jack calloway : career politician & mayor of charleston . SIBLINGS : georgia is the middle child of five kids . two older brothers , two younger sisters . POSITIVE TRAITS : gregarious , vehement , alluring , venturesome , empyrean , altruistic . NEGATIVE TRAITS : obstinate , reticent , flighty , temerarious , capricious . AESTHETICS : the patter of raindrops against glass windows , the lingering scent cigarettes mixed with sweet perfume , drinking honey whiskey out of red solo cups , watching constellations with exhausted eyes , sneaking out by means of the vine trellis , leaving texts unanswered for days , a box of pageant awards hidden away in the closet , secrets that weigh more than gold on cherry stained lips , bending every rule just enough to get away with it , wrinkled white satin dresses and knee high ruffled socks , one too many bottomless mimosas at brunch , hearts drawn on fogged glass mirrors , lollipop stained lips . CHARACTER INSPO : brooke davis ( one tree hill ) , sarah cameron ( obx ) , lux lisbon ( the virgin suicides ) , jackie burkhart ( that 70s show ) .

click here for a quick trip to her pinterest bc it describes her better than i ever could !!

( tw ; infidelity , death , drunk driving )

𝐈𝐈 . 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 :

from the second she was born , georgia was treated as her mother’s little doll. diane had been ecstatic the day she found out she was with child for the second time , and even more ecstatic to find out she would be having their first little girl. she was dressed up in pink dresses and frilly socks , shown off to all of the women country or her mother’s weekly book club nights. she was the apple of her parent’s eyes , until she wasn’t. with brunette tresses & honey brown eyes , georgia was adored by everyone .... her beauty noted with claims that she would grow up to be a heartbreaker. her mother thrived on the compliments ; the subtle reminders to what her own childhood had been like. she had always planned on having a little girl that she could do pageants with just like she had with her own mother , and darling little georgia was perfect for that. at such a young age , georgia fell in love with the pageants. she thrived in the spotlight , with all eyes on her. and just like her mother , she won every competion she was entered in , until she didn’t. by the age of nine , georgia was starting to grow bored of the constant pageants and recitals , wanting to explore other interests. by that point , diane’s interest in her had worn off and moved onto the next child , a five year old with beautiful blonde curls and dimpled cheeks. georgia grew to know the subtle ache of rejection , and from that day forward , did everything she could to win back her mother’s affection.

from the outside , the calloway’s came off as the picture perfect family. but from the inside ? things were quite the opposite. georgia’s parents had unmeetable expectations for their children. get perfect grades , nothing below a b acceptable. sit down , look pretty , and shut up. don’t cause a scandal. their love was entirely conditional , only being shown when their was something they believed deserved rewarding. if you were to ask georgia , she wouldn’t be able to tell you the last time her mother actually hugged her for genuine reasons , and not to manipulate her into doing what she wanted. their father was rarely home , always away working or traveling for work. it became obvious that he was having an affair –– multiple affairs , but diane just looked the other way. the calloway family was very prominent in charleston , especially with her father being elected mayor , and their was nothing that diane would allow to ruin their image. even if it cost her own happiness.

things got considerably more difficult around the calloway home when georgia was sixteen. her eldest brother had gone out for a night of fun with a group of friends , and made the fatal mistake of getting into a car with someone who was far too drunk to drive. georgia will never forget the conversation she overheard from the living room that night ; “ they were drunk. lost control of the vehicle. died on impact. ” it tore the family apart , dividing them even more than they already were. georgia couldn’t stand the silence of her home after her brother’s death. so she started partying constantly , going on 48 hour benders and staying out long past her curfew. she couldn’t even recognize herself in the mirror. gone was their innocent little girl , the apple of their eyes. even this couldn’t get the attention of her parents , they barely even noticed she was gone most of the time ; all they did was yell at her to not make them look like fools.

for her whole life , georgia followed her parent’s rules. after graduating high school , she was expected required to go college and get a degree , but georgia just couldn’t be bothered. this is the one time she went against her parent’s wishes. her fear of being stuck here forever , with the same life as her parents ; a husband that doesn’t love her and miserable children , won out over the need for approval from her parents. so she ran off to la , and landed herself on love island usa after being approached by a producer. georgia is reality tv gold , and quickly became a fan favorite. her most memorable moment being after she got her heart broken on live tv , when she purposely held up a lighter to set off fire alarms ; and then laid on the ground getting drenched by the sprinklers. so now she’s single again after being made a fool of in front of the world , back home with parents that hate her for bringing them unwanted attention , and stuck in the city she tried to get away from. but , she’s got a podcast. it’s called the bimbo summit and it’s pretty much the only thing bringing her joy right now. it started as a way for her to expose some behind the scenes shit from love island , but now it’s just for fun.

𝐈𝐈𝐈 . 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 :

georgia is the girl that’s not easy to forget. she’s outgoing and amiable , but stubborn and not easy to push over. she was the one that moms would warn their kids to stay away from in high school ; she leaves a trail of destruction wherever she goes , no matter how hard she tries not to. she has the purest of intentions , genuinely just wanting love & happiness for herself and everyone around her , but it seems like the universe has different plans.

she almost has this air of melancholy surrounding her ? like even when she’s happy and smiling , you can still sense it or see in her eyes that she’s not truly happy

very charismatic , she’s a major people pleaser so she’ll put everyone else’s feelings before her own . she just wants everyone to be happy even if it means she ends up being miserable .

georgia’s a selective oversharer . she’ll tell you all these useless little facts so you think she’s opening up when in reality you don’t truly know her because she refuses to talk about the things that matter .

she’s trusting once she gets to know someone , but if you break that trust even once she’s not very quick to forgive. she’ll hear you out , but it’s unlikely that she’ll ever let you back in.

she is completely unhinged. somehow picks the worst possible decision every time a problem arises. she’s not much of a logical thinker , and tends to let her heart make decisions for her. it’s gotten her into a world of trouble one too many times , and yet she’s never learnt her lesson.

she’s also a serial dater. in her pea brain attention = love so she’ll flock to wherever she gets that. she likes the validation of relationships but hates the commitment , so pretty much all of her relationships end before they ever really start.

don’t ever tell georgia she can’t do something. she’s a stubborn bitch and she’ll either do it immediately just to spite you or dedicate her entire life to proving you wrong and that’s not something anyone needs to deal with.

very opinionated and not afraid to make sure you know !! she will stand up for what she’s believes in without even a second of hesitation.

she would not be caught dead looking unpresentable .... she’ll do her hair and a full face of make up even if she’s waking up at 4am. and don’t even bother to ask her to go out after she’s done her skin care routine .... there’s no chance

doesn’t really know how to handle her emotions ? so when she’s hurt she tends to just .... shut down & push everyone away

she is a hardcore adrenaline junkie , she does so much stupid shit just for the thrill. making spontaneous and impulsive decisions is her favorite pass time. she just holds a lot of emotion in , so anything that will release all of that or make her feel anything other than the things she’s avoiding are very much welcomed.

#charleston:intro

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moonlit-ocs · 2 years

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Independence Day

The Story of Young Justice’s Leila al Ghūl

a/n: this is literally just the first episode of young justice with leila added to the mix to make it interesting. it will get better after the first few episodes but the team needs to be put together first.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

—————

GOTHAM CITY

July 4, 12:00 EDT

2010

You never know what can happen in Gotham, it’s safe to keep your guard up at all times. The Fourth of July is no exception, especially not when Mr. Freeze crashes your family barbecue and park time. But today was a—the big day for Leila and Dick, so they couldn’t let this go on for too long.

“You’d think if Freeze wanted to save his wife, he’d spend a little more time in the lab and a little less time terrorizing families.” Demonspawn commented to Robin as she launched a batarang at Mr. Freeze’s weapon. He wasn’t so impressed when he realized it wasn’t Batman who threw it. Robin went overhead, hopping off the glass dome on Freeze’s head and launching his own projectile discs as he kicked off.

“Oh, Boy Wonder and Little Miss Devil.” Freeze gruffly said as he climbed to his feet. “The Bat sent you to drag me off to prison? Frankly, I’m underwhelmed.” Leila’s face was completely covered, but Dick knew she was rolling her eyes. The two impatiently waited for Batman to swoop in for the knockout, which came swiftly and oh-so satisfyingly. About time, too. Today’s the day.

—————

WASHINGTON, D.C.

July 4, 14:00 EDT

2010

“Today is the day.” Batman patted the shoulders of his two protégés, who stood beside Green Arrow, Speedy, Aqualad, and Aquaman at the moment.

“Welcome to the Hall of Justice.” Green Arrow told them.

“Home of the Justice League.” Aquaman followed.

“Aw, man!” The group heard a voice call from behind, bringing a smile to her face before she even turned around. “I knew we’d be the last ones here.” Kid Flash told his mentor, Flash, and crossed his arms. Typical speedsters. “Hi, Dee.”

“Hi, KF.” Leila waved. “Glad you could finally make it.”

“It’s Flash’s fault, I swear.” Lei shook her head and turned to her brother.

“Are you excited for this or what? We’ve only been dreaming of it since we were nine.” She whispered into Robin’s ear.

“Completely stoked, I can’t believe we’ve made it this far.” He whispered back, knowing that Wally was definitely under the impression they were secretly talking about him.

“Hey! What are you saying about me? Not cool!” Kid Flash protested right before mentor and protégé alike walked towards the famous building. It was completely surrounded by fans and press, which were roped off so that the group was able to walk in without any obstacles. The group zoned in and out of some pretty entertaining chatter on the way in, which included some confusion on Speedy and Kid Flash’s names. “Have all four sidekicks ever been in the same place at the same time?” KF asked.

“Don’t call us sidekicks,” Speedy snapped at the sensitive term, “not after today.”

“Yeah, Kid. Don’t call us sidekicks.” Dee backed him up just to poke fun at her other friend. She wasn’t a fan of the spotlight, but who better to share it with than the boys she loved so.

“Sorry. First time at the Hall. I’m a little overwhelmed.” Kid defended himself as they made their way to the door.

“You’re overwhelmed, Freeze was underwhelmed. Why isn’t anyone ever just ‘whelmed?’” Robin cut in, but before anyone could respond to what he just said, there were inside. “Oh, maybe that’s why.” Sure, they’d been inside the Hall of Justice before, but not as far as they were just promised. A couple of Leaguers met them at the “authorized personnel only” door, led them in, and explained their new permissions, and made the decision to leave the room to discuss the fact that each of them encountered similar villains right before this honor was scheduled.

“That’s it?” Speedy snapped again, he always did have an attitude problem. “You promised us a real look inside, not a glorified backstage pass.” Leila crouched down next to Dick and spectated. It wasn’t looking great, to tell you the truth. Aquaman claimed it was a first step, said that few others got access like this. “Oh, really? Who cares which side of the glass we’re on?” He motioned above to the fans who could see directly into the library they were arguing in. Finally, he addressed the lot of mentees behind him, those of which weren’t as upset as himself. “The Hall isn’t the League’s real HQ. I bet they never told you, it’s just a false front for tourists, and a pit stop for catching Zeta-Beam teleporter tubes to the real thing, an orbiting satellite called the Watchtower.” The mentors were shocked Speedy even knew that information. The protégés were shocked to hear it. All except Leila, unsurprisingly.

“Would you be mad if I said I knew that?” She whispered to Robin and got a death glare from Batman, which was quickly transferred to Green Arrow and his loose lips afterwards. The arguing was almost getting boring until Speedy quit in front of everyone, a real interesting turn.

“None of you are coming?” Roy, no longer Speedy, asked the four. “Not even you, Demonspawn?”

“Day’s not over.” Lei replied, earning at least a less disgusted look from him. After all, she’s always had the most secure position of the group. Challenging orders and making her own way because she knew she could get away with it. And if not, she knew she could manage alone. Just when the drama seemed to be over, a mission alert came through. Two, actually. In one corner, there was an explosion at a nearby science lab, Project Cadmus. In the other, a sorcerer was actively blotting out the sun, making it the more pressing matter.

“Stay put.” Batman told the kids.

“What? Why?” Robin asked.

“You’re not trained.” Flash answered.

“Since when?” Kid protested.

“I meant you’re not trained to work as part of this team.” Flash explained, then Batman gave them the same warning before the League left them behind. Unfortunately, these were pretty clever kids.

“I thought they trusted us.” Aqualad sighed, disappointed that he was not given the chance to fight alongside the League, or even shared a secret.

“Trust us? They don’t even trust us with the basics! They’ve got a secret HQ in space!” Wally was progressively speaking louder as he got more worked up.

“Dee knew about it apparently.” Robin threw his sister under the bus and they all turned to her.

“I’m sorry!” Lei shrugged as her defense for dirty looks. “I was there when it was established, okay? And it’s good I don’t talk because I trusted with more secrets.”

“What other secrets are you hiding?” Aqualad further questioned, intriguing the others.

“If I tell you, I have to kill you.” Lei cheerfully denied his request.

“Why didn’t we leave with Speedy?” Robin asked his fellow “sidekicks,” who felt immediate regret by the question.

“Because a new opportunity always presents itself.” Lei pointed to the communications monitor, the one that sent in two missions to one team. But a new team was about to be formed. “Day’s not over, boys.”

“What is…Project Cadmus?” Aqualad asked, she could tell he was feeding into this idea. Dipping his toes in the water, so to speak.

“I don’t know…but I can find out.” Robin smirked, about to break some rules like his big sister.

“Unless the Demon has something to share.” Kid Flash was holding a little grudge, crossing his arms at the girl.

“Don’t look at me. I’ve passed the building a few times, that’s it. It’s just a little science lab.” She told them what little information she knew.

“See? She knew something. Typical.” Kid pouted and Leila pulled a dull batarang from her belt, pelting it at him. “Hey! There are people watching!”

“I’ll be looking online for pictures of that tonight.” Lei replied, ignoring her brother hacking into the Justice League computer so she could have deniability.

“Alright, Project Cadmus, genetics lab here in DC. That’s all there is, but if Batman’s suspicious maybe we should investigate.” He coerced the boys, Lei was already on board. Debating whether or not she should pull a Batman disappearing act and beat them to the punch.

“Batman’s suspicious when you’re in the bathroom for more that three minutes.” Leila added for kicks and got a chuckle from KF. “Yeah, you liked that one? That’s why you’re not in the Justice League.

“But they said stay put.” Aqualad got them back on track, sighing as he gave up on the idea.

“For the blotting out the sun mission, not this.” Robin corrected.

“W-Wait. Are you going to Cadmus? Because if you’re going, I’m going.” Kid asked his other best friend, Robin, and were on the verge of getting Aqualad on board.

“Just like that, we’re a team on a mission?” Aqualad asked.

“We didn’t come for a play date.” Robin’s words brought a smile to Aqualad’s face, he was in. After their moment was up, a new question arose.

“Wait, where’s Demonspawn?” Aqualad looked around the room, making Robin and Kid facepalm. “I assume we took too long for her standards.”

“Let’s go before she solves the whole problem without us.” Robin led the two out and onto the path to Project Cadmus. By the time they got there, Leila was already inside the burning building, leading innocents out of harms way.

“You guys were taking long enough! There are people in danger here!” Demonspawn yelled out the window and handed off a scientist to her speedy friend.

“Sorry, it took us a minute to get Aqualad on board.” Kid rushed back and forth to help her clear the building effectively. “Is it hot in here or is it just you, babe?” Wally asked when they were all alone.

“Oh, so now we’re okay?” She tilted her head at him, which wasn’t always a good sign.

“Come on, Dee! Today’s been disappointing, okay? I’m letting it go. See? It’s gone.” Wally put an end to his petty attitude, knowing he’d just grill her for hours later to see if she’d crack and give him the information he sought. And finally, Aqualad and Robin met them inside, beginning the investigation now that the flames had been subdued. Aqualad took a look around the place, which proved useful when he saw a figure in the closing elevator doors. “Elevators should be locked down.” Wally said as soon as he heard the noise.

“This is wrong.” Robin said upon closer inspection, using his digital hologram monitor to investigate further. “Thought so. This is a high-speed express elevator. It doesn’t belong in a two-story building.”

“Neither does what I saw.” Aqualad added and opened the elevator shaft doors by hand, revealing what looked like a never-ending drop into darkness.

“I’m going first.” Leila announced, shooting her grappling hook at the wall and hopping down.

“Yeah, sometimes I think ‘Daredevil’ would have been a better name choice for her.” Wally commented before grabbing her line and sliding down. “Look out below!”

“Careful, Kid! Line ended and there’s still no sign of the ground.” She called back up to him and he gripped tight to where he was, making him lucky he wears gloves. “Rob, Aqualad, are you coming or what? I need someone to get this door open!”

“We’re on our way!” Robin’s voice echoed and he was soon beside Leila, waiting for Aqualad to open the next set of elevator doors.

“I got it!” Robin jumped to the ledge and activated his mobile monitor again. “Bypassing security.” They waited a few moments. “Go.” He told Aqualad, giving him the all clear to open the doors. As soon as they got into the sub-level, they were stunned. The place was huge, the hallways looked crazy, and there were alien-like creatures that nearly stomped on Wally.

“No…nothing odd going on here.” Aqualad and the gang stared at the herd of gigantic, unidentifiable creatures traveling down the hall.

“Kid! Stay close, I’m not kidding!” Leila whisper yelled at him after he nearly wiped out. “Now, what are we looking at?”

“We’re gonna find out.” Robin said as the group made a move on, wandering the halls of this surreal structure until more evidence was uncovered: an array of strange creatures in pods. “Okay, I’m officially whelmed.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to make that a thing.” Leila groaned, her “sister” was showing as they took in the scenery. “I don’t like what I’m seeing, you guys.” She began to snap photos just in case. Wally began to understand what was happening in this room specifically, one generating its own power. When Robin hacked into their network, he was able to answer a few more questions.

“They’re called ‘genomorphs.’” He tapped through their profiles, each detailing a different kind with a different purpose. Their only similarity was to serve. “Look at the stats on these! These are living weapons!” He dug deeper into this mess, finding something else that stuck out. “Wait, there’s something else. Project Kr.” When making an attempt to look into it, he was unable to bypass, and then they got caught.

“Don’t move!” The Guardian ran into the room with a half a dozen genomorphs for backup. “Wait. Robin, Aqualad, Kid Flash, Demonspawn? You’re trespassing. But we can call the Justice League, figure this out.” Leila leaned over to Dick, who was still working on the encryption for Kr.

“This isn’t sitting right with me. Guardian’s a hero, why would he be working here?” She whispered to Robin as the others kept Guardian occupied. As Kid argued with him, he brought up the fact that they were breeding weapons, which was apparently brand new information to the man until the little “friend” sitting on his shoulder, the genomorph with telepathic abilities, seemed to persuade him differently. “Dude, I think that genomorph on his arm is controlling him. This is so messed up.”

“Tell me about it.” Dick closed the monitor.

“Attack!” Guardian commanded his little army to attack the group, Robin ditched to find an exit, and the rest were swarmed with more and more strange warriors. When they made it to the elevator and cut off the attack, they realized:

“We’re headed down?” Aqualad asked.

“Dude, out is up!” Kid pointed his finger up, but Leila was just as prepared as Robin to investigate further. They were Bats after all.

“Excuse me? Project Kr. It’s down of sub-level 52.” He explained to the ones who needed clarification.

“This is out of control. Perhaps,” Aqualad nervously suggested, “perhaps we should contact the League.”

“It was one fight, Aqualad. Don’t go soft on us now.” Leila approached, setting both her hands on opposing shoulders. “We are a team now, we’re going to have each other’s backs. I know you aren’t wearing shoes, but now’s not the time to get cold feet.” Aqualad took a deep breath and nodded as the elevator doors opened. “Good, we need you.” Each took a defensive stance and found very disturbing scenery once they’d looked out the elevator. Fleshy, gooey walls with egg sacs pasted all over, not a pretty sight or smell. The four followed the hallway to the fork in the road, enduring another attack and being forced to take route two. At the end of the hall, a giant high security door labeled “Project Kr” slowly closing as a scientist exited. Lucky for the group, a speedster made it over before it could lock.

“Hurry!” Wally propped it open while the rest hopped through. While Robin made sure no one could get in, Kid took a closer look at what Project Kr really was. “Uh, guys? You’ll wanna see this.” He got their attention, each gathering around him as he activated the light that revealed just what was in the pod.

“Another Kryptonian…” Leila mumbled, stepping past the barricades and getting a closer look. “He looks just like Superman.” Robin began his hack as Kid and Dee walked around the pod, theorizing what this could mean.

“‘Weapon Designation: Superboy. A clone force-grown in…sixteen weeks? From DNA acquired from Superman.’” Robin read off his monitor as the uneasy feeling set into them all. Leila was glad they kept exploring, because this is something that needed to be taken care of.

“Stolen from Superman.” Aqualad corrected.

“No way the big guy knows about this.” Kid added and Dick went on explaining the ‘Superboy’s’ capabilities.

“And these creatures?” Aqualad pointed to three genomorphs active above the Superboy.

“Genomorph Gnomes. Telepathic, force-feeding him an education.” Robin read off the screen, raising the question of what else they could possibly be teaching him.

“Now we contact the League.” Aqualad made an attempt at contact, but they were fifty floors below the ground, there was no connection. As the four were debating their next move, the head scientist and Guardian were making an attempt to get in the room, contacting Superboy’s G-Gnomes to give him his first command as the graduated sidekicks set him free. Superboy immediately pounced at Aqualad and Demonspawn, knocking them across the room.

“Leila!” Kid Flash accidentally shouted her real name out of pure worry, but was thrown the other way before he could make sure she was okay. Lei crawled to her feet, head throbbing, witnessing Robin gas Superboy to mellow him out. He choked a moment as Aqualad kicked him across the room, but this was a Superman knockoff, he was back up in no time and slammed Robin into the ground. Now two and a half members were out.

“Enough!” Aqualad shouted as Leila slowly approached, but Aqualad was now on the offending and taking on the Kryptonian one on one.

“Aqualad, hold on!” She charged ahead to help, getting a few blows in, although pretty pointless since he didn’t even flinch.

“Demonspawn, stand back!” Aqualad warned before delivery a shock of bio-electricity to Superboy, which only angered him more, evident when he smashed Aqualad’s whole body into the ceiling several times and knocked him away, down for count.

“Not again…” Leila muttered with her swords out, watching Superboy approach. “I knew I should have started stashing that Kryptonite in the utility belt.” She gave it her best, jumping overhead and making an attempt to stab him, at least scrape him, but it was futile. His skin was as strong as steel and Leila was just a human. He picked her up like a rag doll and tossed her across the room, landing directly on top of Kid Flash.

Superboy did as he was instructed by the head scientist, Dr. Desmond, and pried the doors open by hand, letting faculty back inside where four super-protégés lie unconscious and injured on the ground. Complete helpless and at the mercy of Cadmus.

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#dc comics oc #dc comics #batfamily #batfamily oc #leila al ghul oc #leila wayne oc #demonspawn oc #leila wayne al ghul oc #young justice #young justice oc #superboy #conner kent #batman #robin #dick grayson #kid flash #wally west #kaldur'ahm #aqualad

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inspired-by-the-music · 4 years

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For You: 4 O’Clock

Taglist: @jineunwootrash

If you would like to be added to any of thos blog’s taglists, please ask!

Chapter 10: The Light in the Darkness

Lei’s POV

The night before our Atlanta concert, while everybody was gathered in his room to watch the conclusion to his and Mark’s Mario Kart Tournament, Baekhyun decided that we weren’t having the “real Atlanta experience” unless we ate some of the local food together.

“Come on Lei!” Baekhyun said before dragging me off his bed, where I sat, laughing with Lucas when Mark took the title of champion after Baekhyun’s attempts to cheat failed. “We haven’t bonded since the camping trip!”

From the way he smiled during our ride in the elevator and while holding open the door to his car (another perk of being the leader: having independent means of transportation) for me, I expected that Baekhyun had whisked me away from the group to taunt me about Momhae.

The closest he came to teasing, though, was wiggling his eyebrows as he asked, “What’s the matter, Lei? Did I interrupt an important romantic conversation with Lucas?” Baekhyun looked so much like a little boy as he situated himself behind the steering wheel, I had to laugh at him. “Okay. So where are we going, Lei?”

Glancing at the time blinking on the radio display, Baekhyun sighed. “Well, shit, what’s even open at this hour?”

It was only 9 o’clock. Maybe it was a starless night, or maybe the city lights drowned out the stars. Still, I tried to look for anything in the sky— Baekhyun even reached up to slide some part of the ceiling to reveal an overhead window— as I answered, “A lot is open, Baek. Atlanta’s a busy city, ya know?”

I found the moon— full and distant— and Baekhyun asked, “Well, what do you want to eat?”

“What do you think the others would like?” Feeling like Baekhyun was looking at me, and therefore probably making some goofy face, I glanced over at him and was surprised to find that he was focused intently on the road ahead.

He shrugged. “Who cares what they want?” Then, as if he hadn’t dragged me along on his nighttime adventure without giving anyone else a chance to tag along, Baekhyun said, “If they wanted to have a say-so, they should have come with us.”

Baekhyun flashed that goofy grin again, and I bit back my laughter to admit that my favorite restaurant was probably Buffalo Wild Wings. So that’s where we went, and that’s where Baekhyun discovered the “Blazin’ Wings Challenge” and decided that it would be absolutely hilarious to prank everyone with the hottest wings served.

Maybe I should have done more to discourage his chaos. Maybe he wouldn’t have listened to me anyway. Maybe I was a little too surprised that he ordered chicken tenders and mozzarella sticks— my all-time favorite— for me (without having been prompted) to say anything.

Anyway, Baekhyun concealed his laughter pretty well until everyone, initially excited that we returned with food, shrieked after taking bites into their wings.

“What’s the matter?” Baekhyun chuckled from his place beside me on the carpeted floor. “I got the mildest ones on the menu! All of you are just sensitive!”

Taeyong was the only person who could take the heat. Wiping sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin, he asked, “Have you guys noticed that something is going on with Momager lately?” The tremor in his lips was probably less of a reaction to the food and more an expression of concern.

When Taeyong’s eyes met mine, a faint pink blush painted along the bridge of his nose, and he stifled a giggle by pretending to choke on his mouthful. This— giggling when he looked at me— was the closest he ever came to acknowledging face to face that he knew about me and Taemin.

Taeyong’s giggle prompted me to look at Taemin. Sitting beside Kai (always) he met my gaze, subtly panicked. Kai, whose lips were swollen and stained red from the hot sauce, also gawked at me with tear-filled eyes. I wondered why he didn’t stop eating considering his reaction; he must have been hungry.

Lucas, surprisingly, was the most discreet in studying my reaction to Taeyong’s question. He only dropped a half-eaten wing into its box, licked his fingers clean, and glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes as he propped his head on his knees, which were drawn up to his chest.

I didn’t have to look at Baekhyun to know that he was looking at me, holding his cheeks in his hands and watching the chaos unfold with mischievous sparkles in his eyes. I guess he was just as delighted with mayhem when he wasn’t its source.

The five of us: Taemin, Kai, Lucas, Baekhyun, and I knew what (or, more accurately, who) was on Mom’s mind. It was just a matter of discovering who would spill the beans. I had a good idea of who it would be.

Before Baekhyun quite had a chance to speak, Ten’s eyes widened curiously. “What do you mean?”

Taeyong shrugged. As if he hadn’t been worried enough to bring up Mom in the first place, he tried to lessen the situation’s urgency by calmly explaining, “I don’t know. She just frowns a lot these days, and she seems a little out of it. Do you think she’s feeling okay?”

Mark’s face was scarlet and sweating. His shifting eyes looked at me and reminded me that he witnessed Mom and Donghae’s phone call argument in the van. He didn’t know details, but Mark wasn’t nearly as oblivious as I would have liked him to be.

At first, Mark didn’t say anything. He tried to bite down on his lips, but once it was clear that nobody was going to answer Taeyong, Mark reasoned, “Momager is probably just feeling tired. You know, we’re getting pretty close to Christmas break. We all need the time to recharge, right?”

While Taeyong and Ten agreed with identical nods, I beamed at Mark for thinking of such a rational explanation. Maybe he would always try to make up for his comment in that interview even though I didn’t think he needed to.

Despite being grateful to Mark for allowing me to hold on to Mom’s secrets a little longer, I was starting to feel exhausted by the grip I clung to them with. Mom probably didn’t want SuperM to know all of her personal business— although she had a stunning lack of reaction when I told her that Baekhyun was trying to blackmail her— and I wasn’t dying to explain it to them or anything, but since the Great Come Apart in Grandma’s dining room, it seemed like the secrets that once towered over me, glowered down at me, threatened to define me were as tiny as a speck of dust.

It was true. Mom was the idol who never debuted. But she was so much more. She was the one who could fix anyone’s problem. She was the one every idol knew and loved.

More importantly, she was the person I admired most in all the world because, well, she had always been there. Mom was there before any spotlight. Mom’s eyes were trained on me before anyone else’s, and her eyes were never critical. My mom— she was beautiful— and everything I was was a reflection of her.

I had been considering what it meant to be the fulfillment of her dreams, and it meant that I couldn’t be afraid. It meant I didn’t have to be. There was liberation in the fact that I could be confident in the truth that no matter what anybody in that hotel room, in the country, in the whole world even (!) said or thought or did, I now knew who I was. I knew who Mom was. I knew that no matter what— come what may— we would love each other forever.

All along, I had the forever love I couldn’t admit to wanting, and that’s why I didn’t wince or roll my eyes or sigh or feel the slightest tremor in my chest when Baekhyun said, “Maybe Mom caught whatever bug kept her from Donghae’s party.” Baekhyun’s tongue darted between his lips to lick at the hot sauce gathered around his smile.

I can’t explain why I didn’t feel any sort of rage toward Baekhyun even as Taemin, Kai, Lucas, and Mark cut their eyes at him. I don’t understand why I almost laughed at Baekhyun’s childish little smirk. “Yeah. Maybe she did.”

I don’t understand why Baekhyun was not at all surprised by my reaction. His smile only grew into something a little more genuine before I looked away, distracted by Ten’s gasp.

Ever the gossip, Ten leaned forward and shrieked, jaw dropped, “She didn’t go to Donghae’s party?”

Seeming to sense my lack of anxiety, Lucas laughed and launched a particularly greasy fry at Ten who, of course, caught it in his mouth with a smirk. “You would’ve noticed if you weren’t too busy drinking and dancing like an idiot with Hendery!”

“Wait.” Taeyong’s eyebrows knit together. “Is Momager sick? Donghae’s party was just before we left. What if she didn’t have time to recover? All this touring can’t be good for her health, and—”

Baekhyun caught my eyes briefly before blurting, “Obviously, Taeyong, Mom was faking.” He patted Taeyong’s shoulder. “No need to waste your empathy on a fake illness!”

Mark shook his head. “Nah, man. There’s no way. Mom loves Super Junior. She wouldn’t skip the party unless she really had to.” Raising his eyebrows at me, Mark wordlessly asked, “Right, Lei?”

At that, everybody turned to face me.

And I didn’t know what to say.

Taemin spoke up softly, lips still pretty despite being painfully swollen from Baekhyun’s silly hot wing prank. “I think we should mind our own business.”

Although Kai seconded, “Yeah,” with the slight nod of his head, Baekhyun argued, “You can’t blame the others—” he pointed at Ten, Taeyong, and Mark— “for wanting to know about Momhae’s 15 years of unrequited love!”

If looks could kill, Taemin would have murdered Baekhyun with a glance. I wonder what Taemin might have said had Lucas not made me laugh by jumping to his feet to debate, “Dude, that love is totally requited!”

I knew my reaction to this situation was wrong because Baekhyun and I were the only people laughing. I thought he sat next to me to set my world ablaze, but when he doubled over in laughter and laid his head of floppy blonde hair in my lap atop my polka-dotted pajama bottoms, I almost wanted to imagine that Baekhyun was there to encourage my laughter. That wasn’t the first time we laughed together in the wrong place at the wrong time, but as I cradled my face in my hands, I thought maybe it had been too long since the last time.

Kicking at us, Kai growled, “What the hell is wrong with you two? Get off of Lei, Baekhyun. Idiot.”

Baekhyun sat upright, likely spurred when I started bouncing my leg. “Sorry,” he said insincerely, “that was just hilarious!” Moments passed in relative silence before Baekhyun hummed, “What were we talking about?”

Taeyong’s face was contorted in bewilderment. “What the hell is a Momhae?”

Still standing over everyone, Lucas crossed his arms. As if it were obvious— and maybe it was— Lucas answered, “Mom and Donghae.”

“That’s a good ship name,” Mark assessed.

And Baekyun smiled. “Thanks! I came up with that!”

Ten cocked his head to the side. “Wait. Why did Baekhyun know about Momhae before I did?”

“Yeah.” I turned to face Baekhyun, and he almost distracted me with a funny face. “How did you find out about Mom and Donghae? Sehun didn’t tell you. He promised not to tell you if Donghae told him anything.”

Baekhyun raised his eyebrows and asked through pouting lips, “Are you sure Sehun’s really loyal to you?”

Without hesitating, I firmly nodded my head. At that point, for some reason, there was no doubt in my mind that Sehun hadn’t aided in Baekhyun’s quest for information. Maybe I wanted so badly to believe that Sehun was my ally— that we were somehow friends— that there was no room to question his motives.

“How romantic!” Baekhyun squealed and pinched my cheeks. When I kept staring at him, demanding an explanation for his knowledge, Baekhyun’s grin faltered. He, who I never knew to speak in anything other than a bright shout, mumbled, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

The others had descended into chatter among themselves, so I challenged Baekhyun, troubled by the absence of mischief in his eyes. “Try me. You’ve been chaotic enough lately that I think you owe me an explanation or two.”

Baekhyun stared at me blankly. Once I smiled, he laughed. “I—”

His voice fell off as we felt Taemin’s eyes on us. Taemin’s stare wasn’t jealous— why would it be?— or in any way disapproving, but Baekhyun seemed to find something in it that I couldn’t. Shaking his head, Baekhyun huffed, “Maybe some other time, Lei.”

My simultaneous intrigue and disappointment at the ambiguity of Baekhyun’s answer— my frustration that he was always impossible to understand— was all short-lived. Across the room, Taemin’s eyes crinkled fondly as Kai muttered something to him, and suddenly I was too breathless to notice anything or anybody else.

I was too breathless to notice that Ten was talking to me until he crouched in front of me and flicked the center of my forehead. “Hey! I was talking to you! Stop gawking at your boyfriend and answer me!”

Taemin and I drew gasps that were suspicious enough before Lucas yelled, “Taemin and Lei aren’t dating!”

Ten might have been joking around about having caught me staring at Taemin, but Lucas’s outburst couldn’t have made our relationship more obvious. As Ten smirked at having accidentally stumbled upon a truth, Baekhyun barked, “Just repeat your dumb question, Ten! Nobody wants to hear about Taemin and Lei’s love life!”

It wasn’t like Baekhyun to pass on an opportunity to make me squirm, but I was too grateful that he used his authority as the leader to silence Ten to meet his eyes. I was so relieved that I could only fix my sight on Ten in anticipation of his question when Mark mumbled, “I don’t know. I kinda wanna know what’s going with Lei and Taemin.”

After Taeyong hushed Mark by placing a hand on his shoulder, and Ten swallowed his desire to tease me after shooting a glance at Baekhyun, Ten asked, “So what’s our plan to make Momhae a reality?”

I wheezed. “What?”

There was no plan. I didn’t believe in meddling in others’ personal affairs. Mom had her reasons for rejecting Donghae’s confessions all those years, and it was not my place to force her to reconsider.

If you really want to know my opinion, I didn’t approve of Donghae’s recent behavior. I think maybe some people liked to be chased, but I have always thought that it takes love to accept “no” as an answer. I have always thought there was a certain beauty in saying “not yet.” There was something special about believing that destiny doesn’t have to be forced.

Everything in me balked at the idea of forcing the hand of fate.

Besides, Mom was capable of pursuing Donghae when she was ready. Evidently, he was just a phone call away. Maybe he was getting desperate in those days, but I imagined that if he were capable of moving on, he would have already.

I didn’t know if Mom and Donghae would end up together. I just wanted to believe that if they were meant to be, they would. I wanted to believe that I wouldn’t lose any sleep if they were strained for the rest of our lives. Above all, I knew that I didn’t want to help SuperM make real emotions into a joke.

Maybe they weren’t trying to make it a joke, though.

Looking like he stood on the brink of tears, Mark confessed, “I don’t think I can live comfortably knowing that Donghae has been pining after Momager for 15 years. That’s a long time to walk around with a broken heart.”

All at once, it hit me that 15 years was most of my life. In my loyalty to Mom, had I forgotten those sad dimples that formed in Donghae’s chin when he realized that she hadn’t come to his birthday party? Had I forgotten how his voice wavered when he vowed to fix whatever kept them apart?

Mark’s empathy for Donghae reminded me of mine.

“Well I’m concerned about Mom!” Lucas’s eyes were rounded. He also looked like he was about to cry. Maybe it wasn’t just a topic of gossip for him. “Just look at Donghae! There’s no way she hasn’t fallen for him. And even if I’m wrong— even if she doesn’t love him the way he loves her— do you really think she doesn’t feel the burden of breaking his heart?”

I told you: I never stopped being surprised at how perceptive Lucas was.

I opened my mouth to tell him that Mom was okay. And even if she wasn’t right now, she would be. He didn’t have to hug his knees like that. He didn’t have to frown like that. He didn’t have to squeeze my heart with his sadness like that. It would be okay.

Taeyong, the sole voice of reason, dictated, “Of course, it’s all very sad, but we are not getting involved in Momager’s personal business.”

Ten, Mark, and Lucas groaned in discontent, so Taeyong looked to Baekhyun for support.

But before Baekhyun could assert his opinion on the matter, Mom burst through the door. “Baekhyun, where is—” Mom must have found or forgotten what she was looking for. Her question changed. “What are all of you doing in here? It’s past curfew.”

Mom didn’t pause long enough for anyone to answer. She waved a hand dismissively. “Nevermind. All of you, go back to your— Oh my God! Kai, are you okay?”

Following her concerned gaze, I saw that Kai’s face had swollen red, especially around the lips. Is that why he had gone so silent? I worried that he was having an allergic reaction until he replied in a normal voice, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Probably concerned that Kai’s face wouldn’t return to normal before tomorrow’s concert, Mom sighed raggedly. “Okay. Good.”

Nobody stood to return their rooms, so she put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at our defiance. “Seriously, guys, go to bed! Why are none of you even meeting my eyes?”

I had been searching Mom’s face for confirmation that she was okay. A glance around the room revealed that everybody was staring guiltily at their empty to-go boxes. They were reacting as I had when I first learned pieces of Mom’s identity; they were trying to reconcile Mom the manager with Mom the human, who felt love and heartache.

When they looked up from their puzzle pieces to look to Baekhyun to answer as their leader, they probably didn’t expect him to ask without any trace of a grin, “Ma’am, are you ever going to accept Donghae’s confession?”

If Mom was surprised by Baekhyun’s question, I couldn’t tell from her mere blinking. She wasn’t the same person who stood motionless in the dance studio just months ago when Baekhyun alleged that she was the idol who never debuted. I wondered if she was proud to seem more human to us. I wondered if she found more pieces of herself; I wondered if she loved them as much as I did.

Mom must have been moved by our genuine concern. “Thank you for asking, Baekhyun, but it’s really none of your business.”

Baekhyun’s lips tucked into a thin frown as he nodded his head.

“Now go to bed,” Mom instructed softly. “We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”

And so the others, as they rose to unsteady feet, understood that there was nothing they could say or do rush the hands of fate. Silently, we understood that we could only hope that things would work out in the way we imagined was best.

I don’t know why that truth, which had existed since the dawn of time, took our breath away. I think the truth must be different once you know it. I think none of us felt quite as helpless as we did when we parted ways to return to our rooms.

Laying my head against Taemin’s chest, I said, “Everything will be okay.” My voice wasn’t quite mine, though, because I was just repeating what Mom told me in Grandma’s dining room. I told myself that wanting to believe is as good as believing, but they were never the same thing.

Taemin repeated, “Everything will be okay.” His voice was the light in the darkness. I thought that if I just stayed close to Taemin, I could learn to burn that bright.

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hiolamlei · 3 years

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尋找紅女郎 Seeing Red 李曉琳個人作品展現場圖 Hio Lam Lei Solo Exhibition View

地點Location: 澳門全藝社 Art for All Society,Macau

紅女郎傳說及楔子-前言-過場-後記 (2021) The Mystery of Lady in Red with Prologue-Preface-Interlude-Epilogue (2021)

Dimension Variable Acrylic paint, mirror, velvet curtains, FHD video with audio (11 min)

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牆繪文案 Wall Text Full Script

前言很多眼睛喜歡觀看銀幕中的紅女郎人們著迷於她的雙眸雙唇牙齒鼻樑頭髮等等為了不辜負眼睛的期待更多的美麗需要被陳列在銀幕上在聚光燈的鼓勵下紅女郎順從地展示出更多的美麗她裊裊而行她平平而躺一些眼睛卻開始責怪她展露出過多的美麗紅女郎於是吸收不同眼睛的意見仔細檢查自己的全身上下以確保展示出的美麗符合標準而在聚光燈日復一日的烤炙下紅女郎的雙眸雙唇牙齒鼻樑頭髮等等亦漸漸軟癱模糊失去形狀—

Preface How much the Eyes enjoyed watching Lady in Red on the screen Audience were fascinated by her eyes lips teeth nasal bridge hair et cetera To live up to the expectations of the Eyes more beauty needed To be displayed on the screen at the encouragement of the spotlight Lady in Red obediently exhibited more and more of her beauty She posed she paced she lay flat but the Eyes began to blame her for showing Too much beauty in response to different opinions Lady in Red Examined her body carefully to ensure that the beauty displayed Met the standard yet due to the burning heat of the spotlight Lady in Red ’s eyes lips teeth nasal bridge hair et cetera were Melting gradually and lost their shapes—

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後記在夢中我看見身穿紅衣的她似乎是一名體操運動員正在投入比賽的她眼睛鼻子嘴巴不可見身體克服重力頸肩腰胯彎作漂亮的弧度正在躍起或下沉宛若一把閃閃發亮的鑰匙而我好奇這鑰匙可否開啟我手中沈甸甸的行李箱

Epilogue In my dream I saw her performing as a gymnast in a red outfit In the midst of the competition her eyes nose and mouth became Invisible overcoming gravity her neck shoulder waist and hip Bent to a beautiful arc leaping or sinking like a shiny key and I wonder if This key can open the heavy suitcase which I have been carrying for long

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時間：白晝以及黑夜地點：山洞, 海的沿岸, 水中人物：觀眾, 攝影師, 演員道具：鏡子, 行李箱 , 鑰匙

Time: day and night Location: cave, coast of the sea, underwater Character: audience, camera operator, actor Prop: mirror, suitcase, key

#installation #moving image #filmnoir #alterego #wallpainting #walltext

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wskent · 4 years

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What about Bob? (pt. 4)

Mueller enters the club. It appears he has time traveled to the 1920s, the roaringly sinful 1920s. Women dance in beaded dresses with bobbed haircuts, men in their baggy suits. No one seems to see Mueller who did not notice the sign outside explaining that the club is hosting a themed fundraiser for Michigan Senator Debbie Stabenow, a true party-animal.

Mueller is offered a coupe of champagne which he takes but doesn’t drink. Everyone knows that if you eat or drink anything in the past you’ll be stuck there forever. Mueller is approached by Orrin Hatch who is wearing his usual off-duty senator ensemble - a red tracksuit with Adidas sandals and black trouser stockings. Hatch hurries over to Mueller, “You party crashing too?”

“What?” Mueller asks.

“Oh, I know this is supposed to be some kind of liberal themed party, but I love the gin gimlets they serve at this place.”

None of this information has made any sense to the sleep-deprived Mueller who believes he is either time traveling or still in a coma. He stares blankly at Hatch who doesn’t seem to notice.

“And I do love jazz,” Hatch adds. He begins to move his body in a way that could be described as dancing, but to Mueller it looks like lurid writhing. He begins to feel nauseous. He turns away from Hatch and begins to make his way toward a soft reddish light he sees in the distance.

He walks toward the red light. Mueller weaves by a gaggle of raucous treasury members, led by nosy-Jack Lew. Lew snaps his fingers arrogantly as Mueller tries to avoid eye contact, but fails. Lew waves, flashing his renowned three-dollar smile. Mueller scowls, stunned by Dianne Feinstein, who, everyone agrees, can really dance.

The red light grows in intensity. All-too-suddenly Muller catches a strong whiff of asparagus and glue on a hot day. It’s like a slap in the face. He grimaces, stopping dead in his tracks, knowing full-well it’s too late. “Oh hell,” he stammers.

“BOB MUELLER. IN THE FLESH,” a deep voice with a syrupy southern-drawl announces.

“Hi Rex,” Mueller says, moving his blazer, adjusting his cuffs. “Are those pigs in a blanket?” Mueller inquires.

“There aren’t many sure things in this world, Bobby, but those are pigs in a blanket,” he declares, gesturing with his whole arm at a platter bathed in red light. “Help yourself.”

“I’d rather not,” Mueller says, remembering the slippery rules around time travel. He looks at Tillerson and his group of oil weasels, fawning over the recently-freed Tillerson. “What are you doing here, Rex? I thought you would be getting out of this dirty, old burg.”

“I’m a big fan of chaos, Bobby. I want this race to be interesting. Stabenow is scrappier than my pet goat, Ramona.” Ramona, Rex Tillerson’s pet goat is a well-known figure in DC and Texas. It is impossible to know how far beyond these spheres Ramona’s story reaches. Bob Mueller met Ramona on several occasions and finds himself nodding in agreement. “Plus, I love a good show,” Tillerson adds, running a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, smiling menacingly. Helping himself to a pig in a blanket, Tillerson dangles it over his maw to impress Mueller. Mueller is unmoved, even as Tillerson releases it, gnashing his jowls and craning his neck at the same time, like a bear chomping down on a river salmon. The weasels approve. Mueller feels a tap on his shoulder and swivels around.

“Well, thank god you walked in,” Dianne Feinstein says. She’s bathed in sweat, no doubt from singlehandedly setting the tone on the dancefloor. Her tone is flirtatious. “Tammy Baldwin was supposed to play piano for this gig. I guess she’s double-booked tonight. I know it’s a big ask,” she says, wiping her brow with a palm tree-patterned kerchief, “but would you mind covering for her tonight?”

Mueller feels time stand still. He had sworn off the piano years ago, or had he given it up minutes ago? The MK-timeline makes dates hazy. If only he had a paper cup right now. As a man of discipline, Bob Mueller was able to systematically swear off all distractions in his life -- except jazz. He remembers reading an article in The Hilltop, Howard University’s best newspaper, that said Jazz music was not to be trusted because of its jagged beats. In an alarming turn of events, he rebelled against this editorial, embracing the unpredictable rhythms of jazz as a guiding light - a truth that would ground him.

As he thinks more about this, Mueller looks down and realizes he is halfway through Monk’s Nutty, confidently seated at a jet-black piano. Debbie Stabenow is suspended ten feet above the piano in a sparkling hula-hoop, spinning gracefully as red and silver confetti fall around him. There’s Gillibrand on sax and he swears he can see Sherrod Brown on drums. He leans in close to the keys and his fingers dance. Is he wearing sunglasses? He hears Tillerson’s booming voice “My god Bobby, you’re gonna set the place on fire.”

His eyes scan the room. He wants to see the man in the pink umbrella, but all he sees is Orrin Hatch and Chuck Schumer dip each other awkwardly bumping into other attendees. He dives hard and fast into the middle eight and the crowd cheers approvingly. It’s a helluva fundraiser he concedes to himself, pulling back on the piano as she begins her speech.

“HEY YOU, MACHINES,” everyone knows that Stabenow loves trying out new accents and referring to people who aren’t from Michigan as machines. “Time to explode your wallets into my bank account,” she remarks grotesquely in a pitch-perfect Australian brogue. The crowd is delighted and Mueller hears audible squeals of delight. He glares at Schumer and purses his lips.

Stabenow continues about the importance of keeping Michigan out of the great lakes, how small things should be smaller, and launches into her usual stump speech, complete with talking points from the blimp lobby. Mueller chuckles to himself as the shape of blimps are very funny. He shakes his head because it’s really funny.

“BOB,” Stabenow says suddenly, forcefully, emphasizing the curves of the letter Bs, “We are running out of time.” She’s staring directly at him. The whole crowd is staring too. The spotlight is on him and him alone. The crowd encircles him. He blinks vacantly. He tries to stay present, banishing the nagging thought that he will wind up in front of another unlikely district locale with a half-eaten sandwich in hand. He is tired of the tangled timeline and John Kerry run-ins. He misses the din of his office. He yearns for the field from his dream, far away from the district. He wishes---

“Are you even listening, Bob?” Feinstein is shaking him. He smiles, nodding. “We need you more than ever.” Even the oil weasels are nodding their heads. Orrin Hatch gyrates with needless gusto and the scent of asparagus and hot glue permeates everything as Rex Tillerson claps like Duffy, the beloved seal at the national zoo.

“I...I..I’m happy to help,” Mueller muses. “I...I just need to answer some questions first.” The room grows quiet. He feels it is suddenly very late. The crowd fades into the dark corners of the club. He gazes down at the checkerboard floor. It stretches infinitely in all directions. He feels heat behind his knees. He licks his lips and tastes vinegar. He reaches down into a bowl full of nuts and takes a handful. The world spins around its axis and feels a premonition, the future coming. He opens his mouth, absent-mindedly, taking in a handful of nuts. His large jaw makes quick work of them.

In the far-reaches of his mind he starts to hear music. A piano looping. A swell of a string ensemble. He closes his eyes. A cascade of color. All colors. Beautiful hues. A palette of deep, vivid colors comes into focus. The music grows louder. He begins singing along. It’s Over the Rainbow. Warm tones and a soft crackle. An old recording. The one from the movie. A familiar warble. Is that Judy Garland? He’s tearing up, looking at himself staring into the infinite abyss of Washington, DC. He sees light blue gingham everywhere. She appears in the middle of it, wearing, ruby slippers. She hands him a lei of flowers. He accepts them and locks eyes with her. In slow motion she says “Bob, this is wrong. I am the wrong one. The other one. Find the other one. Make haste. We need you, Bob. The wizard. THE WIZARD!” She screams. He’s confused, but nods. He reaches out to her and she disintegrates into a powerful gingham wind. Rex Tillerson laughs somewhere and the world shudders while Orrin Hatch tries out his new dance moves. Ugh. The room swirls around him and all goes dark.

Silence.

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lovehaswonangelnumbers · 5 years

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New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/the-white-of-novembers-1111-gateway/

The White of November's 11:11 Gateway!!

The White of November’s 11:11 Gateway!!

By Lisa Gawlas

This has been a truly wild ride these last few months. No doubt, we are not about to slow down any time soon. (I really wish it would though lol.) I have not put out any sharings 1, because there was nothing new for me to share and 2, I have been babysitting my grandson while my daughter recovers from surgery and her husband works day-shift. I am out of the house by 4:50 am on most days.

My voice came back just in time for November to start. And what a weird November it is already. The first day of November all I could see in what I call “previews” (imagery before the call happens) is what looks like a spotlight shining down on the earth and flooding it with light. The light is so bright I cannot see thru it. This was consistent for every person on my schedule. The next day, we got an addition within the preview… a left arm (physical reach for life) with a wristwatch on it. The numbers of the watch were blobby and blurry, there were no minute or hour hands. The only thing I can understand about this consistent imagery is… we tend to look at the clock, at the time, the time it takes (for anything) and now, time is becoming less and less relevant in our reach for life. What we want or need.

Yesterday in the previews (no one has had an actual reading yet) it really became interesting because each person added a different element to the preview (unlike the previous 2 days.)

My first lad’s preview was an opening of a curtain, very much like the opening of a play. The curtains themselves were extremely white and what was thru them was another layer of (a softer) white light. Nothing I could see thru tho.

My next lady offered a silhouette pacing back and forth behind the softer white light. So my guess is that the softer while the light is a secondary curtain to the first one. Like a set of shears behind the brighter ones.

I am now wondering if the pacing is us… waiting, wondering and yet, the time is blurred, irrelevant to our desires, for now, information lol. And trust me, I want to know NOW!! lol

My third lady offered something incredible… the only thing of color besides white and silhouette. It was a ring/crown of brilliantly colored flowers. Flowers reminiscent of Hawaiian leis. I could feel the thickness of their petals. This ring of flowers was about the side around as a Frisbee (going to scale of my vision of course) and hung in the center of the stage a couple of feet above where this image of pacing was.

I kept feeling the energy of the crowning of the virgin mary (why I have no idea lol..) Maybe it is the purity of the light and the brilliance (flower colors) of what is to come of the whiteness. Of course, we are heading into and through the most significant 11:11 gateway ever.

Well, my day has already started with readings and I am only getting the finger wag… meaning, not seeing anything. I have a deep inner feeling each day closer to 11:11 the frequency of light is getting more and more intense. Which alone feels exciting, but not when looking directly into it.

Sadly, with the chaos of my days driving to my daughters, not having a voice, babysitting and days not getting home until after 7 pm, I have been really really negligent in my emails and many other things. The times I am at home I tend to take very long (and needed) naps. And just so no one worries, my daughter is fine, she got new boobs put in and cannot lift anything until a week or so from now, including her 26-pound chunky monkey lol. So I did not block off the moon periods or even 11:11, and those days are all booked up. I would strongly advise rescheduling coming into and on the 11:11 (I have a feeling beyond that will be ok) or stay there and we can try and see what we can see.

A few days before m voice came back, I was sitting on the couch and tilted my head to the left and it felt like I dunked my head underwater and my right ear filled up. The next day, the same thing happened with my left ear, Both are still pressurized, with my right ear being super intense and both ringing like crazy. It will be 2 weeks Thursday this “ear thing” has been consistent. My doc gave me antibiotics which helped everything except the ears.

I actually broke down and begged my team to help me understand what is happening. They gave me a dream just before November started. I was painting someone’s ceiling white. In this dream, all I could think about is how great it would be if my son painted my ceilings before I move (I move out by the end of this month.)

We are all working to purify the ceilings of life, raising the frequency for ALL. When work is being done, it is not a time to understand but allow. This is what all the previews in November are reminding us of… allow. Time is irrelevant (unless you have bills to pay lol.) and life is getting a new coat of paint at the highest level for all of us.

On my car ride from daycare to home this morning, I was equally reminded of how incredibly intelligent and communicative our cellular body is and will do all it can to push us where we need to go.

I got insurance on the 1st of Oct and had not yet contacted an ENT to explore my chronic, persistent voice loss. Well, with my ears in the condition they are now in, I called yesterday. The first thing they asked me is if I had an MRI done on my throat and head at all. Nope. My appointment is for Nov 20th!!

I am also being asked to remind all of us to stop thinking we are doing something wrong, or out of alignment, or not working on issues. Sometimes the light itself is so intense, the body reacts the only way it can as it undergoes change.

WE ARE UNDERGOING CHANGE!!!

On that note… I love you all so much and for those of you willing to endure my rescheduling, thank you from the deepest part of my heart and soul.

Oh, and we have decided to change the day and time of our Nations class so we do not have to cancel it. Right now we are looking at Wednesdays at 3 pm and will be confirmed tonight when we meet. So the Nations Tuesday night classes live on (only on another day and time lol.)

Big big big ((((HUGZ)))) filled with light, love and pure excitement to and thru ALL!!

Lisa Gawlas

~~~~~~~~~

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lakambinimagph · 5 years

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“Pssst Miss!”: The Manyak Rhapsody

Here’s how the story goes: A woman dressed to the nines—with her on fleek eyebrows, classic red lipstick, tassel earrings, and graphic tee—is totally slaying her looks. She glanced at the mirror one last time, before tucking her stray hair behind her right ear. No one can mess with her upbeat mood and cheery disposition today—not even her unruly hair. Until she heard a car honking behind her back which made her upper body jolt. “Psssst ganda! Isang ngiti naman dyan!” the driver of the car demanded.

Does that sound familiar? Well it’s too familiar and it’s happening to three in five Filipinas every day. Catcalling has become universal in the country that every Filipina has faced it at least once a day. Experiencing catcalling is like experiencing last song syndrome (LSS), however it is more extreme and psychologically-destructive since even days after the incident, the manyak’s (aka perverted man in Filipino slang) unsolicited comments and sexual advances still linger in the listener’s mind.

Manyak is like a one-of-a-kind show-stopper that commonly performs in alleyways and in streets. He sometimes performs solo or with an equally “talented” group. They are like beyond confident impromptu performers who can make eye contact with the audience, while they whistle. Manyaks perform everywhere and anytime that they like—as long as they spot a woman who passes by. So what are the elements involved in the extraordinary songwriting process and singing prowess of a manyak?

Introduction: “Psssst!”

The first verse in popular music usually offers the most interesting—if not, the unique and upbeat part of the music track that would attract pool of listeners. Introductions make or break music tracks. Usually, it contains just music—either through humming or by using musical instruments—and not words. Intro must capture the “feel” of the music track. Manyak, in this sense, entices his listeners (aka women in the streets) by humming “Psssst!” which signals the beginning of the music track.

“Psssst!” proves to be a successful musical technique since the listeners truly feel something once they heard it. Some manyak, on top of their outstanding performance, sometimes smirks to the women. Ally, 20, said that sometimes a malicious smirk is paired with an intense stare. Some listeners such as Luisa, 19, detailed that some manyak perform whistling—almost comparable to Mariah Carey’s five out of eight octave—which she considered as an over-the-top gesture for a street performer. She also recounted that she vividly remembers the clothes that she wore on those days. Meanwhile, Celine, 20, described their performance as heart-stopping and mind-numbing. The kind of musical act that will make you question your existence. “Psssst!” in this sense, desists to be just a whistle, but encapsulates the manyak’s desire or infatuation towards the women who pass by.

First Verse: “Hi Miss.”

In popular songs, the first verse must set the musical track’s tempo, key, and energy. The first verse must be memorable enough for women to remember, since it is not repeated throughout the duration of the song. The goal in establishing first verses must be to encourage the audience to listen. Manyak achieve this goal by chanting “Hi Miss” as if he were casting a magical spell among women. Manyak delivers “Hi Miss” in a sing-song manner enough for the victim to turn her head and briefly glance at him. At times, other versions of the lyrics are used such as “Miss, hatid na kita,” if the manyak is gentleman enough to offer a woman either a ride or a walk to bring her home. He sometimes uses “ganda” and “sexy” to acknowledge her ethereal beauty and to appreciate her oozing sexual appeal.

“Uso pa ba ang harana?” Parokya ni Edgar once sung and in the case of every manyak busking in the street, they compose their own version of “harana” to serenade and to woo women. Harana is Juan Dela Cruz’s traditional way to profess his love for someone. The harana seems silly and gimmicky today but in the case of manyak, it works wonders. Although the traditional harana and manyak’s “harana” are both unsolicited, manyak’s intention is filled with malice. Imagine a manyak confidently standing with his camisa de chino and his jersey shorts as he delivers the lines: “Miss, I love you.” Manyak, indeed, will do anything to “win” a woman's heart.

Chorus: “Ang sarap mo.”

Chorus in popular music boasts the most pivotal part of a music track. Chorus must be rhythmically and lyrically catchy. It must be addictive and flavorful enough to attract listeners’ attention. It is also usually repeated throughout a song. Since Manyak chooses his words carefully and tastefully, he would deliver lines enough for a woman to have a knee-jerk reaction—oftentimes of fear and disgust. They would usually sing “Ang sarap mo” and “Miss, ‘yung legs mo” during the chorus. The performers sing the chorus effectively that women feel embarrassed, angry, and confused all at once.

Bridge: “Ganda, hatid na kita.”

Bridges in popular music are anti-climactic yet strongly hold on to the musical track’s tempo and direction. Bridges are usually placed after chorus. It somehow beautifully captures the overall essence of the musical track. More importantly, it is often use to prepare for the return of chorus. Interestingly, manyak recites bridge using the popular lines “Ganda, hatid na kita.” to implicitly reinforce what he sang at the beginning of the track. At this point, bridges are lyrical manifestations of manyaks that they want to be with the woman.

Just like music, catcalling is slowly becoming embedded into our DNA. Although musical tracks ease our soul, catcalling serves as the bane of women’s existence, because not only are these acts unsolicited, but they also degrade our individuality. Some might say these are merely words, but people ignore the fact that words can make or break an individual.

As long as there are manyaks, who are more than willing to showcase their macho ability, unsolicited performance like catcalling will continue to exist. To dissect and to deconstruct different kinds of catcall is a move towards understanding women’s everyday struggles, and acknowledging that something like this exists means upholding women’s rights. Our right to be respected and to feel safe on the streets.

Seriously, the act of catcalling takes away women’s voice and highlights men’s voice. Now is the time to reclaim that lost voice. Men need to realize that they are not the center of attention. They need to know that women don’t seek their “voices,” if anything, men need to accept that we can dress whatever we want, whenever we want. We need to move the spotlight towards women who face the harrowing threat and danger behind catcalling.

Words by Chelsea Joy Serezo

Graphics by Jannah Lei Junatas

#careful whisper #what is catcalling #catcalling meaning #catcalling act #philippines #catcalling philippines

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mahou-no-kaibutsu · 7 years

Text

reBiRTH

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7itDtXTc5jA

“Why the shit do you think I live in a broken down shack of a house,” If you could call it a house. Izumi spoke in between throwing piles of laundry into the washing machine. Jackson leaned against the door frame, arms crossed with an unreadable expression plastered onto his face. She was beginning to think this look of irritation was normal for him, and that’s why those deep forehead wrinkles were so prominent. “I ain’t complainin’.” But her tone was more than annoyed. At least she had a roof over her head, despite her yearly salary being able to afford something much more lavish. Both of them together could have a mansion. Money was nice but not important to spend on a house. As long as she had hot water and a light or two...why not.

Jackson had watched the entirety of her messy and less than adequate clothes washing. Darks mixed with blood stained white t-shirts. It wasn’t something a little bottle of bleach couldn’t fix...maybe. “You mad at me or something?” She’d separated their clothes into two loads, stuffing the damp first load into the dryer. Jackson moved from the door frame, hitting the stop button on the washer before the soap suds could form. The acidic smell of bleach lit up the stale air before he started the machine again, almost accepting the fact that what she’d put into the dryer was long gone. His masculinity wasn’t against wearing a baby pink shirt. Hell, it wasn’t every day you got new clothes.

Izumi leaned against the dryer for a split second, before she was forced to sit ontop of it. “Ain’t tryna be petty to anyone.” Sexually frustrated and blue balled, maybe. Ontop of the usual irritation with Richie and his shitty businessman ways. Throw your most loyal dogs around like they’re disposable. A vacation didn’t sound so bad.

Her gaze moved to the side, arms crossed. She was pouting. He moved between her legs, closing the distance to a dangerous level. The band of her shorts snapped lightly and suddenly her muscles grew tense as Jackson’s hand searched for something. His arrogant expression turned into a smug smirk after realizing she hadn’t put her boy shorts back on. The rickety old dryer shaking beneath her thighs made everything feel a whole lot more unstable than it was meant to. His finger gently vibrating and pressing between her residually wet lips...

“Dryer’s done,” It’d been a total of ten minutes and that damned thing took over an hour to dry a normal load, not what she’d managed to stuff it full with. Hey, a few wrinkled clothes never hurt anyone, right? “What’s the fucking problem,”

“Sometimes I get sick of feelin’ like I’m disposable,” A cold silence fell between them, despite the whirrs and clunks of the washer going about next to them. Izumi smacked the ON button for the dryer once more, turning to leave.

The night moved quickly. Jackson downed a few beers before passing out on the futon while Izumi locked herself to the confines of the bathroom. The running bath water subsided after half an hour, and there was utter silence afterwards. By the time she emerged, Jackson was snoring soundly. Enough for her to crawl next to him, back facing him. An unlit cigarette hung from his lips as he had himself propped up against the wall hap hazardly, arms resting behind his head. Izumi scoffed, pulling the sheet over her shoulders. “Baka,” His heavy breathing continued on for five minutes. His body rustled beside her, his hand sliding onto her hip, gently pulling her back into his chest.

The first night of peace

And the first morning she had to sneak from the grasp of a sleeping grizzly bear.

THE [JUDGEMENT] DAY

“He’s making you go to Alheimer this time?”A glove snap was heard in the background. “You’re checking a rib, not doin’ surgery, Lei,” “You mean doctor, right? We’re taking blood too. You can’t get out of that,” “Again?” “That’s what happens when you take illegal drugs,” Izumi grew quiet, gritting her teeth. “Makin’ me sound like an addict,” “Well?” The sound of sterile paper crinkled beneath Izumi as she shifted on her back. Her shirt resting atop her breasts, midsection completely exposed under the washed out fluorescent spotlight hanging over head. “You did yourself in on this one,” Lei winced, drawing air through her teeth as a way to show empathy. Her touch was as gentle as you’d expect someone in the position of a doctor to have, and through that touch could she tell far more than any prehistorical machine could. No radiation or invasive procedures needed. “If you let me do a few injections of-” “Nope, nope.” Izumi shook her head like a disobedient child. “Seriously. You’re this big bad killer for one of the best guys in town, and you’re afraid of a few needles? I’m starting to think you’ve been lying to me,” The doctor sighed heavily, checking the time on her watch. A few vials of blood later and her job was done. “Ice for the swelling. You know this,” Izumi tucked a bottle of mild pain pills into her bra. “Thanks again, Lei,” “Take care of yourself, Zu. Have fun in Alheimer~”

The train ticket Richie handed off to both of them was specifically dated for Thursday at noon. The sun hung over the train platform, only shaded by a tin metal awning that realistically made it feel more hot and humid than it truly was outside. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face, quickly swiped away by the back of her hand. The fuck is that guy. She thought to herself, throwing back the last of her water before tossing the plastic bottle in the trash. To no surprise, Jackson was no where to be found. Izumi searched through the thickening crowd of people at either side of the platform for some sort of familiarity.

Nothing.

The train arrived not more than 20 minutes later. Izumi lugged that black duffel bag over her shoulder. Despite it normally being stuffed with weapons and other job related things, she managed to fit enough clothes in to last for her duration in Alheimer, however long that was meant to be. She took a window seat, putting her bag next to her. They probably had a plan to run me off, tch. She made an irritated clicking sound with her mouth, folding her arms and sinking back into the stiff seats. The good thing was, Lei’s steroid injections seemed to be doing Izumi justice at this point. Fear of needles aside.

After designated boarding time, the automated system announced the final warning before the doors closed. Everyone had fallen quiet, as seemed to be courtesy on these trips. Not like it bothered Izumi at all. External chaos was easily ignored, it was the internal chaos that was scarier.

“Sir, sir! We’ve already announced the final boarding, you can’t-!” The poor train stewardess was shoved aside, the closing doors pried open under the vein popping, sweat inducing strength of man. A few patrons stood up to the stewardess’ aid, vocally expressing disbelief at the mans actions. “Seriously?! You’d shove an innocent woman like that? You filthy dog.” One of the men shouted, quickly moving from his seat to bow up to...Jackson? Izumi squinted from a distance. Jackson scowled down at the man, who was now balling his fists. Jackson stood a good 6 inches taller, with a frame twice the mans size. One look and the guy was cowering like a dog back to his seat, channeling his anger into dirty looks as if it would somehow shoot daggers into Jackson’s chest and make him drop dead.

What a way to start vacation.

#izumi #bean

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