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ofgoodmenarchive · 3 years

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The fifth in a series of drabbles exploring my Blood Mage!Dorian.

Saving Time

“What were you thinking!-” Dorian punctuated his statement by kicking the rarely-used cooking pot. It soared through the murk of their cave and barely missed his shadow- ducking with a hiss.

“You- under-handed!- Witless!-” He struggled for words, fists clenching and unclenching. “Vile! Stupid!”

Lacking more projectiles, Dorian couldn't restrain his hands from tossing fire. Granted, none of the flares could harm the demon- their bond nullified any damage either might attempt. Still, it gratified him somewhat to observe the instinctive floundering.

“I told you to leave it to me!” He berated without reserve, merciless even as his living silhouette coiled, openly sulking against the rugged stone.

“Were you trying to scare him off?! Because that's all you'll do- or did you forget?! Did we not already have this exact discussion?!”

Not responding directly, it instead deflated into itself with a pitiful wheeze. Yet Dorian understood- he had after all, been privy to the basics of it's exchange with Lavellan- though lacking much detail. He thusly responded, still incensed;

“Well, what were you expecting?! He wasn't even prepared!- You didn't give me time to warn him! You're lucky you didn't scare him to death- no, more than that! You're lucky he didn't send his people to raze the bloody hillside!”

His shadow echoed this dismay- though more pathetically. Tossing it's head back with an inhuman but somehow childish wail. Desire communicated it's own distress and feelings of rejection like a kicked feline.

“STOP THAT! STOP YOWLING!” Dorian ordered, feet-stamping in his impatience. “I-once-again-must-ask-you- WHAT WERE YOU EXPECTING?!”

Finally choosing to answer, Desire waved it's arms in a show of upset defeat.

“Name!- His name!”

“WHAT ABOUT HIS BLOODY NAME?!”

Hunching in surrender- as if realising, to some extent, how foolish it's thinking was- Desire grumbled.

“If his name is ours....then he is ours...”

“WHAT?!” His confusion and outrage intensified. “Are you stupid?! THAT'S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!”

It shooed him off with a growl, arms folding impetuously

“....He is Dalish- 'Eldest Lavellan'...It works that way.”

“Stop it!” Kicking pebbles, Dorian continued to scold. “Stop looking into his mind! Stop thinking you know what you're doing!- Just STOP!”

His shadow shrank into the corner, glowering but unable to think of an argument. Lavellan after all, hadn't given the creature his name- whatever notions it had of promptly 'claiming' the elf had been dashed. That being the case...

...It was visibly quite depressed.

“Oh, Maker, don't be like that...” The mage awkwardly consoled. “You're just...we're just...a bit much, don't you see? You should know this by now! It's just....how it is, alright? Nothing to sulk about...”

Yet the being would sulk and Dorian would find himself punctured by it's anguish. Irritated by this more than anything, he paced, muttering...

“For the love of Andraste...don't grieve over one bloody man like this- it's really not becoming...”

Desire peeked at him but clearly dismissed this advice, remaining in it's forlorn huddle. Seeing no choice but to switch tactics, he sat alongside the creature, sighing empathetically.

“...Maybe it's not so bad!” He offered, attempting to convince himself while speaking. “He hasn't sent anyone after us, or anything...I'll speak to him, alright? I'll apologise for your awfully uncouth behaviour, and explain that you are quite harmless. You've just gained something of a, uh...fascination...”

His shadow pouted at him, wordless.

“...If we hadn't already invested so much time...I'd say abandoning this 'fascination' would benefit you more than pursuing it...”

The creature's eyes narrowed in obvious displeasure.

“Well...that's sort of my point,” Dorian said with a laugh, gesturing at it's pinched face. “Since when are you so picky?”

Snarling, it slumped with more exaggeration, not dignifying this statement with a response.

“Fine, fine...” Dorian stood, rolling his eyes. “...Let's scent out Lunis' trail then, no? Hopefully our Herald can spare us a moment between rounding up lyrium-smugglers, and trying to end a bloody war...”

Energised by this plan, Desire hopped up, teeth gleaming cheerfully through the dark shroud that always lingered.

They were nearing Redcliffe when Dorian abruptly lost track of the minion's presence.

This was concerning for many reasons. Mainly it concerned him because he knew very well who had settled at the castle.

Alexius and his Venatori. People who likely considered Dorian a traitor or lost to the wilderness- depending on what information had been acquired in regard to his movements.

As he approached the gated courtyard, aiming to meet Alexius somewhere inside, he became doubly unnerved. If Lunis had been struck down, he should feel nothing of the beast. Yet the impression hadn't simply vanished- it had scattered. His senses judged Lunis to be everywhere, yet nowhere definable.

By then he had a theory- but only speaking with Alexius would give true insight.

No one stopped Dorian as he sauntered through the castle, though cultists who recognised him shot doubtful glances. Since they weren't attacking on sight, he assumed they knew little of what exactly had occupied the renegade.

He met Alexius in the throne room; relaxed upon its ornate chair, snickering with one of his inferiors.

“...It will be rather interesting to see when the poor fool will reappear, in any case.”

Catching the tail-end of this conversation, Dorian strode forth, beaming as if nothing were amiss. While approaching he noted a dark, sooty stain upon the floor, briefly disturbing his internal map. Now his being was convinced Lunis' energy was somehow caught in the damn tiles.

Very quickly, Dorian pieced the scene together.

“If you were inviting the Inquisition for a party, you should have sent for me!” He bantered, acting oblivious towards Alexius' calculating stare.

“Were you not instructed to observe the Rifts?” The older mage knit his brow. “Yet my people have heard nothing of you- now here you are...without any of the instruments you departed with.”

None of this caused Dorian's smile to falter. If anything it widened, shrugging simply as he stated-

“I lost it.”

“You...lost it? You 'lost' a whole bag of equipment?” Alexius' features hardened but Dorian merely laughed.

“I don't know if you've noticed...but the Ferelden countryside is somewhat of a mess between the Inquisition, demons, Templars, rebel mages...and us, of course.”

“...Of course...” Though he didn't relent completely- eyes squinting. “...And I suppose in all this mayhem, you managed to find some...distraction...completely unrelated to the task you were to be compensated for?”

The implication and disgust was palpable- and not totally incorrect. Dorian at least considered himself fortunate that Alexius seemed ignorant to who had 'distracted' the maleficar.

“You know me too well!” He chuckled heartily, displaying no shame.

Scoffing at this, Alexius grumbled;

“We won't be paying you for a job you failed to accomplish, I hope you realise...”

“I thought as much, yes.” Yet he would stand there, smiling foolishly and expectantly until Alexius growled and began once more to lecture;

“We can still make use of you...but your incompetence thus far, Dorian, has been noted. Rest assured that if matters here hadn't concluded to our satisfaction...I would not be suffering your presence in this moment.”

“How kind of you, Alexius!” Dorian chimed with mirth, needling lightly into the topic. “And how did things here conclude to 'our satisfaction'? From the looks of it, all you've done is burn a hole through the poor Arl's floor...”

He'd hoped the arrogance of the man would lure him into relinquishing details- and was glad to see himself correct.

“That fool 'Herald'...” Alexius guffawed, gesturing to the charred tiles. “...as you'd expect from a fraud, he has not the tiniest grasp of the forces he meddles with. I flung him out of time- along with that...repulsive mutt of his...”

Dorian's mouth twitched- he willed it to remain smiling.

However, Alexius' gaze narrowed.

“...Quite strange, really. The creature resembled one of yours.”

“One of mine?” He cackled as sincerely as possible- a trained mannerism. “Oh yes, I'm sure the Southern Chantry would love to have one of my abominable little minions running around! Surely the Herald of Andraste, with his Dalish heritage, would adore such a gift from a Tevinter blood mage!”

That appeared to quell Alexius' assumptions for now- he leant back into his usurped throne, scowling.

“Point taken...but your ongoing absence is unacceptable, regardless. For the time being, I expect you to remain in Redcliffe- until we think of how you can be of actual use.”

“But of course!” Dorian accepted with a melodramatic bow. “I only live to serve, Magister Alexius!”

Unimpressed by this show, Alexius dismissed him with a noise of disgust.

“Out of my sight now...I would like to savour this victory, without your foolish remarks...”

Back turned on Alexius and his Venatori, Dorian's ever-present smile morphed into a sneer.

He wouldn't act until nightfall.

With the Herald's supposed removal, the Venatori were lulled into a sense of security- a false one, if Dorian would have anything to say about it. Alexius' research into magical time shifts wasn't news to him- but he'd have to act immediately for any hope of success.

Who even knew what Lavellan was being pit up against- weeks or months into an undoubtedly chaotic future?

The first step would be to retrieve Alexius' amulet- with that, he'd be capable of triangulating Lunis' exact place and time. That accomplished, all he'd have to do is locate the Herald and bring him home.

For any other mage, swiping the amulet in itself would be a complication. For Dorian, it was as simple as recruiting a little friend. Lounging in the courtyard beneath glaring twin moons, he waited for the wily rat to return.

It soon did so, squeaking and scrabbling- as it was a literal rat. Albeit one with an adorable, miniscule skull for a head. Loping from one sill to the other, soon it was clambering down rough brick, plopping onto Dorian's shoulder with an accompanying jangle.

“Took you long enough!” He jested, unburdening the rodent of its spoils. “Perfectly done, though! I doubt anyone even noticed.”

Emitting many a pleased squeal, his furry friend pounced into his hood, rolling comfortably.

“Well...you can go back to sleep, or you can stay here, it's really up to...” There was no reason to finish- predictably, his minion wished to slumber until its services were called upon. It would become something of a fossil once the wisp floated into the Fade- a strange ornament that most wouldn't think twice about. Not the only grim trinket one might find on his person, either.

Initial steps fulfilled, Dorian fled from the village, knowing he would never be welcomed back.

Tracking Lunis' precise time-space took longer than Dorian would have liked.

A week- perhaps two? It was difficult to count the days between the spreading of Rifts, constant clashes between Venatori and Inquisition, and of course the Venatori's pursuit of himself.

Much of it involved working within the Fade, utilising the amulet as a beacon. Outside of the Fade, he roamed and hunted, following whatever signs- mundane or otherwise- that led to the place part of where he meant to travel.

The time part was more tricky- but Dorian was sure he'd pinned it down- the exact location, in the exact time-shift.

For reasons he couldn't hazard, Lavellan and Lunis had been taken to the other side of the Hinterlands, where there was an old fort. Currently held by Inquisition- that must not be so in whatever future the Herald occupied.

Dorian situated himself outside the fort, far enough to be unnoticed but close enough to reach in a short sprint. Once he jumped through, after all, he could waste no...well, time.

Fiddling with the amulet, he ensured none of his calculations were off, breathing deep, muffling stress...

Travelling through time was not a usual experience for him...

Truthfully, if the Herald wasn't so clearly integral to the success of the Inquisition, he wouldn't be fool enough to attempt such a thing. It was all a bit much just to save and impress some bloody man!

However by some ridiculous twist of fate...Dorian was the singular person able to retrieve the Inquisition's Herald. He supposed then, it was fortunate for both he and all of Thedas, that he just so happened to rather like the damn fool...

While Dorian pondered and probed the amulet he was aware of his shadow- watching him, intent...

“...Alright, listen...” Exhaling, he met Desire's gaze. “...Where we're headed, this Breach nonsense will be out of control- so just...try to remember...”

Struggling to think of what he wanted the creature to remember, Dorian rubbed his forehead. Deciding on words, he looked his shadow square in the eye and dictated-

“Fuck the Fade. Fuck it's endless knowledge. Fuck Corypheus. Fuck the Venatori. Fuck everything that isn't you and me! That's how it's always been! You'll remember that, won't you...?”

Blinking at him, apparently baffled by this lack of confidence, Desire answered with a firm nod.

“...Alright...” Inhaling, Dorian stretched the amulet before him. “I'm trusting you, old friend.”

With a muttered incantation, green swirls of fire possessed the object and his attached arm, gathering until they formed a tear in existence itself.

Mustering all the courage available to him, Dorian stepped through.

Into a world of pure, hellish mayhem.

There was no longer a single Breach and various Rifts- the sky was consumed by Breach, the land littered in demons and Rifts. The quaint Ferelden countryside was strewn with months-old carnage, and not a moment seemed to go by without a roar, a scream, a distant explosion.

“Andraste's-flaming-tits.” He uttered witlessly, briefly unable to do anything but behold the chaos. Alongside him he could feel Desire fluttering, panicked. It didn't like this future anymore than he did- and must have felt vulnerable and exposed, with the Fade and reality mashed together.

“Yes, I know, just-” Before he could finish, Dorian was overwhelmed by an internal sensation of tearing and burning. Though he didn't panic- Desire was simply escaping as far from the Breach as possible, into it's bound vessel.

“GARGH! FOR THE LOVE OF-” He didn't panic but he would complain! “I hate when you do that!”

If someone else were present, they would have noticed the hint of crimson overtake his eyes, pupils becoming snake-like. Hardly a concern right now- who was around to judge? Besides, Desire's manner of seeing would be of use. Finding Lunis and Lavellan would be effortless with the combination of his bond to the wolf, and his shadow's penchant for identifying auras.

“On with it, then!” Steeling himself, he progressed towards the fort- no Inquisition banners now, obviously. No banners at all, actually.

Someone had helpfully scrawled over the parapets in blood, but Dorian didn't count that.

There was no alarm at his approach, he raced through the smashed portcullis and into a courtyard without problem. By now, he supposed there wasn't a large force defending the structure, down to whatever skeleton crew was necessary to control Lavellan.

...Come to think of it- why are they bothering to keep him alive?

Not just the Herald but also Lunis...

This epiphany filled Dorian with foreboding but he didn't have to suffer in ignorance for long. Passing a row of wooden holdings- animal-pens, it looked like- a familiar presence called to him, soon accompanied by frantic scrapes, bangs and strange rumbles...

That would be the dog, then.

Rushing to the wobbling door, he wrestled off the latch and was instantly tackled by a ton of muscle and fur, topped off by a wilting flame.

“Yes-yes-I'm happy to see you too!” He assured the canine, wrangling it off him. “But where's your master- where's Lavellan?!”

Obediently plopping at his heels, Lunis sat with tail drooped and shoulders low, offering a responsive whine.

“Yes, just hold still..” Dorian guided, kneeling before the minion. “I'll take a look...”

A hand placed on the nape of Lunis' stitched neck, he delved into the creature's memory...

Separated from Master. Blood. Yelling. Sprinting over corpses.

Bad people. Smell bad. All have that smell. Death. Despair.

Master's voice- angry, yelling.

Running towards it. Want to help Master!

Grabbed! Too many hands! Snarling- ANGRY!- Master yelling- “LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Laughter. Unkind. Talking. Death-smells.

Master is not fighting anymore. He throws his weapon to the ground.

They take him away.

I HOWL I YELL I FIGHT.

BUT THEY TOOK HIM AWAY.

Throw me in the dark. I howl. No one replies. I howl. No one replies.

Master is yelling again. It is not angry yelling. Master is in pain.

I howl. I ram the door. I FIGHT. I AM ANGRY.

They will not let me out. I cannot get out.

I CANNOT HELP HIM.

Yelling stops. Door opens- it is Master!

He is happy to see me. I am happy to see him!

But he is hurt. Arm stinks of blood and death. I whine. I want to clean it.

Laughs at me. Calls me a good boy. Tells me not to whine. Hugs me with one arm.

Calls me a good boy. I try to clean his arm. He laughs at me, hugs me. Laughter turns into crying.

Hugs me once more. Tells me to be good.

They take him away again.

They keep taking him away.

Dorian emerged from the desperate vision with a gasp, sickened and panicked to his core- and just slightly irate...

“...They're using you to keep him subdued?! That's why they didn't just kill you?!- They're trying to remove the mark! And you're the only mechanism of control they have over him...” His mouth twitched, almost wincing. “That...that bloody sentimental idiot! Doesn't he realise you're not actually a dog?! He might have found his way back by now if it weren't for you!”

If it weren't for me.

If I hadn't given him this stupid gift!

Before him, Lunis whined, descending to hide against his front paws.

“Shh, it's fine..” Dorian patted fur absently, glancing around. “...Stay here, alright? I don't want anyone noticing me...I'll find him, and then we'll all go home, yes?”

Lunis had just enough cheer and stamina to lightly wave his tail, signalling obedience.

“That's a good boy...I'll be right back- with your master!”

He sealed the pen in an effort to avoid detection, then charged inside. By this point he was thankful for Desire's cowardice. Whilst bound in this fashion, hunting down Lavellan was a simple matter of rifling through energies. Dorian supposed he should be thankful for the demon's lecherous nature. It's recent contact with the Herald caused his aura to shine prominently, even weak and broken from torment.

Somewhere on the lower levels- smaller energies around him. Apparently someone thought it amusing to throw their Dalish prisoner in with the hounds.

Outrage flooded him upon this discovery- especially from Desire. As far as the demon was concerned, Lavellan was already theirs. To have something of 'theirs' treated with such blatant disrespect- regarded as a beast- it sent his shadow wild. He could barely keep a lid on the fury.

“Listen...” Dorian ground out, descending stairs. “...You need to keep your head on straight, friend! He's alive- and we're going to get him out of here. So just...focus on that.”

Together they attempted to do just that, while lurking the lower cells in search of Lavellan...

They'd tossed him into a cell at the very back. Dorian heard the restful wheeze of a dog-pack before any sound or sight from Lavellan. The cell lock was worthless- easily melted with a fistful of fire.

“Hello...? Herald...?” He inquired very quietly, skulking into the damp cell, disturbing piles of hay. A few canines grunted but didn't seem able to differentiate him from every other loudly dressed Tevinter.

“DIE, VENATORI SCUM!” Lavellan also seemed unable to differentiate- before Dorian knew what was happening, his back was shoved against a wall, a blunt knife wavering against his throat.

“Oh!- you're out of your chains!-” He giggled somewhat nervously “And you found a knife!”

“AND I WILL GUT YOU WITH IT!- TEVINTER PIG!”

Rusted metal pressed against Dorian's jugular, the seriousness of Lavellan's threats striking him all at once-

“WAIT-WAIT-WAIT! Look- it's ME!- Dorian Pavus- remember?!”

Wild eyes fixed upon his, brimming with confusion and hatred. The Herald was exactly in the sort of state you'd expect- clothes ragged, soaked in blood and filth, hair a crazed mane, features exhausted. His right arm was heavily bandaged- he held the knife in his left, as correctly as he could manage.

“You are with them!” He hissed- but thankfully seemed hesitant. “You were mentioned by name!”

“But you haven't actually seen me with any of them- have you?!” Dorian struggled, reaching for every detail he could find. “If they have mentioned me- it's probably as an incompetent fool who never does his job, no?!”

A glimmer of doubt passed over Lavellan's expression- but again his knife-grip firmed.

“How do you expect me to believe that?!”

“I brought you Lunis, didn't I?!” He spluttered- at a loss. “And he's a good boy, isn't he?!”

Something in the Herald's face appeared to crumble, eyes watering, mouth wincing.

“Yes- he- he is a good boy...” He admitted in a whimper, still toying with the blade.

“Yes- exactly! He's a good boy! And I gave him to you- to find you- remember?! And look- I found you! Just as I said I would!”

“...He...” Gasping slowly, Lavellan stumbled back, repeating as if unsure of his words. “...He is a good boy. That is true...”

All at once he flopped against the wall, leaning there tiredly while a nearby hound sniffed at the noise. Most of them seemed to ignore it- Dorian supposed they'd been privy to a lot of shouting. Either that, or he was so focused on the knife at his throat that he didn't register their howls.

“How did you...even get that?” He questioned, pointing to the blade.

Lavellan fumbled with it, lazily explaining...

“They made me sleep with the hounds. I taught one to fetch.”

“And the...chains?” This time, he pointed to the split shackles bound to his wrists.

“I froze one link. Gradually.” Lifting his arms, he feigned yanking them apart. “Like firewood.”

For a while Dorian regarded him in stunned silence. He'd meant to save the poor fool- but he was already half-way to saving himself. Still, he was in such a state...he couldn't get far on his own, could he?

Even so...he was more than a little impressed by the elf's tenacity.

“All of that...must have taken a while.” He observed with a frown, wondering how long Lavellan had suffered this fate- passage of time between the two worlds was clearly not identical. For all Dorian knew, he could have been here months...

“I did not keep track.” Lavellan said with a lame shrug- before his eyes suddenly sparked. “Guards- they are in mid-change? You saw no one? No one stopped you?” “What? I...I really couldn't say. I didn't see anyone, but-”

Disinterested in further explanation, the Herald burst from his cell, weapon in hand. He proceeded to storm through the halls, Dorian desperately trying to match his pace. He resisted calling out, not wanting to attract attention to either of them.

Maker!

He's bloody fast for someone who so clearly needs medical attention!

Lavellan rounded a corner and within milliseconds Dorian heard an absolutely terrified-

“OH SHIT!- OH SHIT!- WAIT-WAIT-WAIT-STOP!-PLEASE-”

Followed by a wet splat- a scream- a gurgle.

Upon reaching the noise, Dorian was faced by more or less what he'd mentally prepared for. The Herald had bowled into some unsuspecting Venatori guard, proceeding to messily tear them asunder with an implement far too worn for such butchery. It was a vicious, ceaseless activity. Dorian noted the wealth of Lavellan's assault was focused on the man's right arm- though he was dead by then.

His death failed to please or be acknowledged by the Herald, who commenced tearing muscle and skin.

Dorian didn't interfere at first. He had an uneasy sense of witnessing something deeply personal- deeply vengeful.

He allowed the man to navigate these emotions however he saw fit- for as long as it felt safe, anyway. He couldn't just...stand around and watch the Herald mutilate corpses all day...

“...My Herald,” He said gently, stepping forward. “...I do believe that man has been rather dead for several minutes...”

Lavellan flung the knife aside, fresh crimson staining the entire length of his body.

“What a pity.” Was all he said.

He then rooted around the man's cloak until retrieving his actual weapon- Dorian recognised the bladeless hilt from previous encounters. However it was merely held at his side, loose and inept.

...He probably doesn't have the strength to summon the blade right now,

let alone use it...

“Lunis...” A growl from the Herald stirred him from his thoughts. “Take me to Lunis.”

“Of course, but...” Dorian perked a brow, curious. “I have to ask...what exactly was your plan?”

“My plan?” Lavellan wheezed in bitter amusement, seeming pained by the motion. “You saw the extent of my plan.”

Blinking from the Herald to the desecrated corpse, Dorian's brow lifted higher.

“Your plan was just...brutally kill that man in specific...?”

“Yes.”

“...Right, well...”

Unsettled by the whole circumstance, Dorian was eager to leave this damned timeline. He was grateful they encountered only a few Venatori stragglers- nothing that couldn't be solved with an inferno or two. Incapable of a true bout, Lavellan was forced to rely on Dorian's protection- though never complained.

Master and hound were reunited shortly; the undead canine leapt into Lavellan's chest, clutching firmly, Lavellan mumbled and cooed in Dalish, settling the wolf's nerves.

“You do realise that's not actually a dog, yes?” Dorian couldn't help but point out. “It's just a Fade-Wisp...inhabiting a preserved corpse...”

The Herald scowled at this, embracing Lunis tightly.

“It is a Fade-Wisp that believes itself to be a dog, in the body of a dog. In every way that matters, it is a dog.”

He could only blink dumbly at that logic- though Lunis panted in cheerful agreement.

Escaping together, the trio trudged through a dire landscape, returning to the necessary spot for their backwards time-shift.

“Hold onto me,” Dorian advised, gingerly taking Lavellan's wrist. “This might make you feel just a tad sick.”

The elf pressed into his side, patient and silent while another vortex flared into life, swallowing them both.

Above them, the sun was shining.

Granted- there was still a Breach- but it hadn't overwhelmed the whole blighted sky!

“Maker, finally!” Dorian sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. “I almost can't believe we made it back!”

Lavellan only offered a soft grunt, still slouched into his rescuer's frame.

I really need to bring him to a healer...

“Come- you see there?” He waved towards the fort. “Inquisition banners!- Your people. Let's get you home, my dear Herald...”

“...Yes, I see...” Detaching, he lurched forward- though managed just a few steps before buckling. Dorian rushed to offer support, insisting on it when Lavellan hesitated.

“Don't be shy now,” He cajoled sweetly. “It's alright to lean on me- I don't know how you've been upright for this long, really...”

Mute, the Herald allowed this without protest- probably lacking conviction to do so.

Lunis scampered ahead, barking in that odd, ethereal fashion that was not really a bark, since he lacked vocal chords. By the time Dorian caught up with Lavellan hanging off him, completely unconscious, a group of soldiers were blinking down from the parapets.

He imagined they were an odd sight- a Tevinter blood mage, holding up their famed and highly-honoured Herald of Andraste, both soaked in blood and the latter appearing mauled by a bear.

“LET ME IN!” He demanded, angling so they could better sight his burden. “I brought him back!- I brought back your bloody Herald!”

Commotion erupted from within, excitement and shock crashing over the populace like a wave.

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spine-buster · 4 years

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Helloooo! I just wanted to pop in on this Sunday afternoon to tell you how much I appreciate you and your writing! Your stories are LITERAL works of art & this Willy story is one of the best I’ve ever read. Including actual published books! Your Petey pieces have killed me & I can’t wait to be sent to my grave with the rest of President Wears Prada. Thank you for sharing your genius! Hockeyblr is blessed to have you 💞

OMG 😭 this is the sweetest message @lunie-lovegood!!!

Thank YOU so much for reading my stories and for your compliments! I love writing for you guys. I’m so happy to hear you’re enjoying TPWP! There will be a lot of good scenes upcoming that will send you to your grave, so be prepared! 😂I am blessed to have readers like YOU! 💞

Also, THANK YOU FOR READING/MENTIONING THE PETEY FIC! I’m soooooo happy whenever anyone mentions it because it was unexpected for everyone but I put a lot of TLC into it.

#answered #the president wears prada series #the space series

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ddraighouse · 4 years

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I want to share this with you guys as a quick preview of what the game is looking like visually and how it’s progressing. This is only a concept piece to see how the assets work together - it’s by no means finished and there’s still multiple layers of digital processing to go over the top (lighting, blending etc). . . I showed a behind the scenes image at the end of last year that gave a bit of a clue as to what we were doing with the assets, and I can finally start talking a little more about it. . . We’re combining both stop motion animation with traditional hand-drawn animation in this game to create really detailed and immersive environments. In this preview, the trees and rocks are actually sculpted, and the rest is hand painted on paper by the wonderful @justin_donaldson_art , myself and @marydentonart . . I’ll share some images of the actual sculpt of the tree and more of our process soon, but for now, I hope this looks okay and gives you an idea of how Lunafon is shaping up. . . #indiegame #indiegamedev #gamedev #gamedevelopment #gamedesign #ddraighouse #lunafon #handdrawnanimation #2danimation #traditionalanimation #lunie #gameenvironment #gameplay #platformer #tvpaint #animation #conceptart #visdev #visualdevelopment #traditionalart #watercolourpainting #nickerpostercolour #gouache #illustration #stopmotion #stopmotionanimation #stopmotiongame https://www.instagram.com/p/B7_-RofDo4h/?igshid=lfrx6xui2gb7

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platonicone · 5 years

Text

Devotion - Story of the Oracle and her Shield

Chapter 13 - Stomping hearts

Is your mind your prison or a palace? I wonder…

As they approached the next outpost, Leon instructed, “Open the armrest compartment.” Luna did as she was directed.

“There are gils in that wallet. If you are out of money, you can take it from there. You can use it for anything you want to buy at our next outpost,” he stated.

“Am I in charge of our finances?” she asked enthusiastically.

“If that’s what makes you happy, then yes,” he replied, looking at the Burbost Souvenir Emporium outpost in the distance. His next delivery was supposed to be there.

“Your future wife is going to be a really lucky one,” she said with a smile. She noticed that she had been smiling a lot lately.

“I won’t be so sure,” he disagreed, slowing down the car.

“You are good-looking, strong, kind-hearted, and generous with your money. What more can a girl want?”

“I am hardly the husband type. You, of all people, should know that,” he said, pulling that car in the parking lot.

“Yes, you do have your flaws, but so do everyone else,” she defended her stand while unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Some of my flaws are irredeemable,” he argued, as he parked the car.

“I don’t think so. You just need to be handled with a lot of patience,” she teased him.

“Whatever,” he said, brushing off his criticism. “I have to make a few deliveries here, fill up gas and finish a few chores. Feel free to browse around.”

“Okay, I’ll make myself busy,” she said, getting out of the car.

They both went their separate ways as the Sun started its descent. When Leon came back after 15 minutes or so, he found Luna playing with a small girl. They were playing tag and running around the car laughing. Leon wasn’t sure which of these two girls had more innocent laughter. Their game came to a halt when Luna saw Leon. Luna picked up the little girl in her arms and twirled her around. She carried her on her hip and said, “I am going to miss you my little monster.”

“I will miss you too, Luny,” the little girl said and followed it up by a hug.

“Aw, you are so sweet, Karen,” she said, returning the hug. Luna walked to her parents who were standing close by and returned their daughter.

“Bye, Karen,” she said with a wave.

Karen and her family wave back with a smile.

“What was all that about?” Leon asked, getting in the car and buckling his seatbelt.

“I was just standing here waiting for you when little Karen came up to me asked if I could play tag with her,” she replied, buckling her seatbelt too.

“Nice,” he said, backing out the car.

“I love kids,” she said enthusiastically. “I wish someday I could have my o--” she did not finish her sentence as her expression suddenly changed again. Fortunately for her, Leon was too busy trying to merge with the traffic to pay attention to what she had just said.

The Sun was setting and the darkness was starting to take over. “Leon, the Sun will set soon, we should consider resting somewhere.”

“I had asked at the Crow’s nest and the guy said Mynbrum Haven, which we passed on the way here, would be the closest. We should be able to camp there,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

“When a girl elopes with someone, she at least expects to have decent lodging. You eloped with a girl and now you are making her stay at the camp? That’s not nice,” she faked a complaint.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” he shrugged.

“You are so not romantic,” she said jokingly. To which, Leon just shrugged.

After a few quiet moments, she suddenly remembered something, “Oh, I forget to show you what I got from the local store there.”

“What did you get?” he asked curiously. She proudly showed him the book she had bought.

“A book?” he said disappointingly.

“This is not just any book. This is a limited edition of ‘I Want to Be Your Canary’ by Lord Avon. It is a tragic love story between a princess and a peasant.”

‘A tragic love story between a princess and a peasant, this is too on the nose.’ Leon’s mind chimed in, while Luna continued talking passionately.

“It’s a heart-wrenching story. Lord Avon’s writing style is simply out of this world. He is my favorite author,” she explained enthusiastically. “Not only that, every year on my birthday, my mom would invite ‘Tantalus Theater Troupe’ of old Lestallum to perform this play.”

“You watched the same play every year?” he said in disbelief.

“Yes, this story is THAT good,” she said, sounding like a salesman.

“Nice,” he said, not knowing what else to say. Leon noticed the sudden shift in her tone whenever she talked about books. He figured books were one of her favorite topics to discuss.

“Leon, what is your favorite book?” she asked.

“I don’t have a particular book as a favorite. But I used to love reading Weapons Monthly magazine. In fact, I collected all the existing publications of that magazine. Each magazine contains information about various models of weapons, which can be upgraded with the right material,” it was his turn to speak enthusiastically now.

“That is the most boring piece of literature, if you can even call it that, which you can ever read. Is there anything you do that is not boring?” she teased.

“Hey, I am a practical guy and that magazine is a practical choice,” he defended his stance.

“True. I guess it does fit with your profile,” she admitted.

“How about you? What is your favorite book?” he asked. Honestly, he was not interested in the books, but his purpose for extending this conversation was for Luna. She seems happy whenever she is talking about books.

“My favorite book is ‘Wishing Upon A Star’ by none other than Lord Avon. I have very fond memories associated with that book. My mom used to read it to me every night when I was little. There were only two copies made of that book. One was in our Tenebrae Library, which was burned down during the Empire’s invasion. The second copy is out there with some lucky fellow. No one knows who has the last copy of this book.”

“Interesting,” he said, as he slowed down the car. “What would you do if somehow someone gave you that last copy of that book?”

“I would enamor them. You have no idea how much this book means to me. It's more than just a book to me. It represents the bond between my mother and me. To hold that book once again in my hand would mean the world to me.”

“Never thought you would be one to be attached to objects,” he remarked. “Then again, who am I to say? I have a similar attachment to my Griever ring and necklace,” he said after a bit of self-reflection.

“Sometimes, it’s not the object, but the meaning behind that object which makes it important,” she acknowledged. “So, what is the story behind your Griever?”

“I’ve had this ring and pendant for as long as I can remember. In all my time spent alone, this was my only companion. When I felt like giving up, this gave me the strength to fight on like a lion. To me, this is a symbol of courage and resilience against all odds. I think it might even have been from my parents,” he revealed.

“You are like a lion. Fierce when you fight. Brave and courageous when the odds are against you. And your hair is like a lion’s mane,” she said, ruffling his hair as you would do to a pet.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he said, leaning away from her trying to get away from her reach. She laughed to her heart's content upon seeing his reaction.

“We are here,” he announced shortly after.

“Where?” she asked, confused.

“Mynbrum Haven,” he said, pointing out the glowing ground from the window.

“Oh good, sleeping under the stars tonight,” she said in a singsong voice.

“Let’s go. There is a lot we need to carry there and unpack,” he said, parking the car.

They made their way to the haven. Leon carried all the camping material from the trunk while Luna unpacked everything. He silently thanked Lina for gathering all the camping gear and neatly arranging it all in the trunk.

Leon was busy setting up the tent and starting campfire while Luna was preoccupied with cooking on her portable stove.

Once Leon was done, he asked Luna if she needed any help with the cooking. Although he was not a great cook, he could at least cut vegetables he thought. Luna politely declined his help and insisted that he should sit and relax for a change. She assured him that she had everything under control.

Leon sat by the campfire he had started and took out his phone. He started browsing through all the photos she had taken of them together. A smile crept upon his face as the photo brought back fond memories. He did not realize how time flew by as he sat there looking at his phone.

Luna announced from behind, “Food is ready.” Leon turned around and saw her carrying two plates. She carefully handed one plate to Leon, which he gratefully accepted. She made herself comfortable next to him with her plate in hand. She nervously waited for him to eat. She wasn’t sure if he would like the taste.

He took one bite and said nothing which added to her nervousness. He took another bite and said, “I don’t like it.” Her heart sunk upon hearing those words. Sadness was evident on her face. But it all changed when he said, “I don’t like it because I love it. This is so much better than any of the restaurant food I have ever eaten at Lestallum.”

Her smile came back and she let out a big breath she did not even know she was holding. He arched an eyebrow to that reaction.

“I am so relieved that you liked it. I used to cook frequently for our retainers and staff, but I never had to cook for someone like this. I still don’t know your taste very well, so I wasn’t sure to make it mild or spicy. But since I saw you eating all those peppers during lunch, I went with spicy and I am so happy that you liked it.”

“Correction. Loved it,” he interjected.

“Thank you,” she said, before commencing eating.

“No, thank you, for cooking this wonderful meal. I am not a good cook so any food is good to me, but this is in a class of its own,” he said and followed it up with another bite.

She thought her food was okay, but Leon seemed to love it so that’s all it mattered to her.

As the flames of the fire fought against the wind, the flickering light cast an amber glow to the surroundings. Crickets were chirping in the background on this mildly cold night. They ate their food peacefully under the moonlight and radiant fire. Luna gave all the remaining food to Leon, and he gladly devoured it all.

After all the cleaning was done, they returned to the campfire. “You know, Noctis is a very lucky guy,” Leon confessed, surprising Luna.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because he gets to a partner like you. You are beautiful, have a heart of an angel, you are amazing with kids and on top of all that you are an amazing cook. You are a complete package for a wife.”

“You Sir, give me too much credit. I am not perfect. I can be very naïve and idealistic at times, so outside of the providence I don’t know if I have anything to offer to Noctis. Also, I think I will be the aggressor in our relationship as I don’t like to wait passively for this to happen, so I don’t know if Noctis would like that. Lastly, as you often say I can be stubborn and I am rarely honest with myself.”

“Your qualities outshine your perceived flaws.”

Luna blushed at hearing Leon’s compliment.

Not wanting to embarrass herself any further, she changed the topic. “Oh, I am getting so forgetful lately. I forgot the most important thing.” She grabbed her trident in the right hand and stood up. She chanted some sort of spell as Leon eyed her curiously. Soon, golden energy started radiating from her body and slowly it expanded to cover the whole heaven. Spectral particles danced around her as she waved her trident in a circular motion. She closed her eyes as a divine glow surrounded her. She looked nothing short of an angel. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes as the spectral particles descended downwards like rainfall. The ground absorbed all the particles and gave out the blue ethereal radiance. Once all the energy was absorbed in the ground, Luna quietly sat back next to Leon.

Leon noticed that she was breathing heavily and was out of breath. He waited for her to recover before asking her what was on his mind.

“What was that?” Leon asked, no longer able to hold back his curiosity.

“Oracle’s blessing. One of the duties of Oracle is to bless Havens to repel demons so people can rest here peacefully when nightfall,” she replied with a hint of pride in her voice.

“The Oracle conveys Astral’s will to mankind, provide spiritual guidance, heals people, and even repel demons. All very essential things for the stability of this world. It still boggles my mind that someone as important as you travel alone,” he said with a facepalm.

“Who said I was alone? I have you,” she deflected his concerns with a smile.

“That does not count. Do you know what kind of trouble the world would be in if anything were to happen to you?” he restated his concerns.

“The world would be just fine. People are more resilient than we think,” she placed her left hand on Leon’s right hand reassuringly. “When faced with despair people often find courage, they did not know they had. I am just someone who makes things a little easier for them, that’s all.”

“You are too modest. You don’t realize your own worth,” Leon said in disbelief, shaking his head.

‘It’s funny, how you could be important to the whole world, but sometimes all your heart desire is to be important to just that one person whom you love.’ She thought to herself.

It was still too early to go to sleep, and it was starting to get slightly chilly. While Leon stroked the fire, Luna returned from the tent wearing one of Leon’s jacket. They both sat side by side basking in the warmth of the fire.

Ever since they met, it was like some invisible string of fate was pulling them closer to each other. Ever since they first laid eyes on each other, they felt the familiarity that cannot be described in words. They felt as if they had known each other for eternity. When they were together, they felt complete. But now that they knew more about each other’s life, everything feels different.

Their earlier conversation kept playing his mind on a repeat mode.

“Do you love Noctis?”

“Yes, I would like to believe so.”

“I’d rather marry Noctis than anyone else.”

“Luna, will being with Noctis make you happy?” “Yes, it will.”

‘Don’t get too close to her, Squall. She clearly loves Noctis. She will walk away with her prince charming and live happily ever after, and the only thing you would be left with is a broken heart.’

‘So, you are saying that she had absolutely no feeling for me? What about all the time we have spent together? What about everything we have been through together? What about her care and compassion for me?’

Two voices were arguing within him. One he assumed was his mind, and another was his heart.

‘You idiot. She has lived most of her life in isolation. You are probably the closest thing she has to a friend. She is clinging on to you as a friend, not as her lover. She said it herself that she would rather marry Noctis than anyone else. Besides, she is already someone’s fiancé, it is an honorable thing to respect that and back off. She is already taken.’

‘I agree. I will never say that I love her, it’s not honest, but it’s an honorable thing to do.’

‘As a soldier, you have fought, hurt and even killed people. You have committed lots of sins for honor, for the country or for some Astral. But one sin you should never commit is trying to deviate her from her path. She is a noblewoman fighting for a noble cause. The future of this world relies on her shoulders and if she fails to fulfill her calling, then everyone in this world would be doomed and it would all be your fault. That would be your sin to bear. She is carrying lots of burdens and if you cannot help her carry that weight the least you can do is not to add to it.’

‘But... what about me? I think...I love her.’

‘Then tell me, what do you have to offer to her? If she marries Noctis, she will be the queen. She will have a comfortable and royal lifestyle, people will bow down to her, she will have an army to protect her, and on top of all that, she will be with the one she loves. What do you have to offer her in exchange for all this? You are vagrant who does menial chores to make your ends meet, you couldn’t even protect her properly last time, and on top of all that you might disappear forever on a whim of an Astral. What is she left with then? A broken heart and a miserable life. Is that what you want her future to be?’

‘No, I want nothing but happiness for her.’

‘If you truly mean that, then you would do well to realize that her best shot at happiness is with Noctis. Remember what she said? Rather than being with the one you love, doing what’s best for them is better. When you love someone, their happiness is all that matters to you, not your sacrifice for it. If her happiness is all that matters to you then do what's best for her, let her go.’

‘Let her go...’

‘Besides, someone is waiting for you back home. What about her loyalty to you? Does that mean nothing to you? Are you going to just abandon her? If Luna can wait 12 years for her love, then so can you.’

‘Yes, you are right, I must be loyal to her. I cannot let her down. She might still be waiting for me.’

‘Good, then we are in agreement. This madness needs to end.’

They both sat there silently staring at the flames in front of them while trying to calm the flames from within.

Her battle was not much easier than his.

‘Wake up, Luna. You have lived in this fantasy for far too long. Your calling is to be with the King, not with some stranger you met a few days ago. You have a role to play and responsibility to fulfill towards this world. You can’t abandon the whole world for one guy. You can’t plunge the whole world into darkness so you can be with your light.’

‘Yes, I shall never do that. I have sacrificed my body for Noctis, but I guess I am required to sacrifice my heart too.’

‘Yes, that is your duty and your destiny.’

‘But I don’t think I am strong enough to do that. I have feelings for Leon, perhaps even stronger than my feelings for Noctis. I sincerely believe that I love him.’

‘That is foolish. What about your future? If you are with King Noctis, then you will be the queen of Lucis. You will have all the comfort in this world, a kingdom to rule, an army at your disposal.’

‘I don’t care about any of that.’

‘But you should, because being with Noctis would ensure you that you are not required to sacrifice anything ever again.’

‘Except for my heart?’

‘So, you don’t love Noctis?’

‘I do love him too. I think.’

‘You can’t love two people at the same time. It’s not fair to either of them. You have to pick one and let go of the other.’

‘But I don’t want to pick...’

‘You would have to. The longer you delay this, the more you would end up hurting everyone.’

‘I don’t want to hurt either of them.’

‘But you are. I don’t know why you are even struggling with this choice. If you think about it, you only really have one option.’

‘I know. My fate was decided even without my consent.’

‘Being with Noctis, eradicating the plague of darkness and helping people: isn’t that what you always wanted?’

‘Yes, that’s all I ever wanted until recently.’

‘Let me entertain you for a bit. Let’s say you decide to be with Leon. Once you complete your journey, he will disappear and just leave you behind. What will you do then? Live out the rest of your life in his memories? Abandon your duties for a guy who won’t even be there for you?’

‘I am sure we can figure out some way to keep him here.’

‘Hahahahaha you think he will stay?’

‘Yes, I believe he loves me too.’

‘Foolish, foolish, child. He already loves someone. The one he danced with, the one he jumped out into space for, the one he tore the fabric of space-time for, that’s the one he loves. Not you. He is only putting up with you so he can be with her.’

‘But what about everything he does for me? What about all the care he shows for me?’

‘He is just doing his duty; didn’t he say that himself?

"My mission is to protect you and everything I did was to advance my mission.”

“I would do it in a heartbeat for you. It’s my duty to protect you so I’ll do anything to for you.”

'You are nothing more a means to an end. Sooner he can help you, the sooner he can get away from you.’

‘No, I refuse to believe that. I think he truly loves me.’

‘He loves you because he sees her in you. He is not good with people, yet he is very comfortable with you. Why do you think that is? When you were unconscious for days, he would take care of you, talk to you, always stayed with you. He barely knew you back then so why do you think he did that? I always thought that it was odd, but now I know why. It was because he saw her in you.’

His words from earlier in the day playing in her mind:

“It wasn’t until she was in a coma that I realized how much I missed her. I had fallen for her and I didn’t even know about it. I would talk to her all the time, even though she was in a coma.”

‘Every time he fought for you, every time he fought with you, every time he blushed, every time he cared, even him being here with you is because he sees her in you. It was all for her. He is just filling up the void in his heart with you. Is that the kind of man you want to leave everything for? You are nothing more than a substitute to him.’

‘Besides, have you stopped and thought about Noctis? He has lost his father, his kingdom, and if he loses you imagine his suffering. You being with Noctis is the best thing for you, the people of our countries and the fate of this world. Do not mess this up.’

‘I guess you are right. I would do best to keep my distance from Leon going forward.’

They sat there by the fire, stealing glances at each other. When their eyes meet, they looked away quickly either from shyness or to hide their pain.

After a long silence, Luna finally spoke, “Leon, about us.” She gathered her thought once again to make sure what she was going to say came out right. “I don’t think we should…” she couldn’t finish the sentence. But Leon understood what she meant and replied, “Yes, I agree.”

It amazed her how much they could communicate in so few words. She was thankful that Leon understood what she was trying to say because saying it out loud would have been painful.

He got up and went back to the tent with pain evident on his face. She sat there alone as tears streamed down from her eyes. They both knew things would never be the same again between them.

Author's notes:

This chapter's question: Who is Karen (FFVIII)? What the connection between 'Tantalus Theater Troupe,' 'Wishing Upon A Star,' and 'I Want to Be Your Canary’ and Lord Avon? (easy)

Please leave a comment if you've enjoyed the story so far. I would love to hear your thoughts. Or at least say 'Hi' so I know you are reading this. Thanks :)

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in-the-grip-of-depression · 6 years

Text

In The Grip of Depression Chapter 32: Bloodlust

Chapter 1|Previous Chapter|Next Chapter Trigger Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence ,gore, character death,

Deceit pulled himself out of Logans mind and continued to pretend to be unconscious.

He'd woken up on the forest floor a little while ago and he could hear Preston muttering something under his breath nearby so he didn't want to risk moving or even opening his eyes.

His head was pounding painfully from the kick and his shoulder and leg were no better. Even if he tried to escape he doubted he'd get very far.

Deceit had to stop himself flinching as Preston suddenly let out a deranged laugh and started shuffling closer.

He heard the metallic clink of a knife being pulled free from its sheath and counted to three before rolling to the side.

He ignored the ridiculous amount of pain he was in from that one movement because as he looked back he saw the knife stuck in the ground where he'd just been.

Deceits eyes widened as Preston tried to pull the knife out of the forest floor and braced himself as he tried to transport himself back to the secondary mind space.

As soon as he appeared he heard Luni and Unwins voices but couldn't make out what they were saying because the pain was overwhelming.

He felt two sets of hands lift him off the floor and place him on what could have been a bed. He caught the eye of Luni and managed to say "Prestons back and trying to kill Thomas. Virgils battling himself for control."

Luni shushed him and started examining the wounds while Unwin looked at Deceit with an unreadable expression.

"I can't heal these, your best bet would be Logic. He's the one with the healing ability after all." Luni said shaking his head.

"Preston seems like someone I could get along with if he weren't trying to kill Thomas." Unwin commented.

Deceit let out a weak chuckle "Yeah, he's a right asshole. You have that in common."

Unwin opened his mouth to make some sort of retort but Luni suddenly burst out "Can you two stop arguing? Seriously, Jake could be on his deathbed and the last thing he could say will be some sort of insult."

Deceit grinned "I wouldn't have it any other way Luni, you know that."

Luni rolled his eyes but froze suddenly, his eyes glazed over.

"There's an asshole at the door." Luni muttered and looked at Unwin.

Unwin frowned and the two of them seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes.

"ugh, fine but I'm going to spend the rest of my life on the sofa if I can help it after all this is over." Unwin said as he walked off, pulling a sharp looking object out of his pocket.

"What's going on?" Deceit asked, trying to sit up but Luni pushed him back down, non too gently.

"shut up and lay down! You're injured, exhausted and have lost a lot of blood. You're not invincible Jakey boy, I bet you've been using your abilities like they're nothing." Luni commanded.

Deceit sighed "I had to distract Preston somehow while the others helped Virgil so I kind of had to use my abilities."

Luni was frowning "that doesn't sound like you. I would have thought you'd leave them to do the distracting so you could help Virgil."

"I did try to do that at first but Roman used his katana to emphasise his point and I had no wish to be on the receiving end. He actually almost stabbed me because I called Logan a bed-warmer."

Luni giggled at that "So it's not just Unwin who you piss off then? You're good at making people want to kill you."

Deceit rolled his eyes and suddenly there was an enormous crash from somewhere.

"What was that?" Deceit asked and Luni scowled in the direction of the crash.

"Someone who wants to kill you."

Deceits eyes widened and he tried to sit up again but Luni wasn't having any of it. "lay the fuck down or I'll strap you down!" he growled.

Deceit gulped and stayed put.

There was the sound of shouting and grunts as two people seemed to be grappling with each other somewhere out of view.

"Is that all you've got?" came Unwins voice and the response was just a snarl.

After what seemed like forever the thump of a body and the clank of a knife hitting the floor signalled that someone had won.

The sound of someone struggling to breathe suddenly cut off and the only sound Deceit and Luni could hear was the pants of the other person.

Footsteps began to approach and Deceit felt his whole body start to tingle oddly. He looked at Luni and noticed him with his eyes shut, concentrating.

"Well well well, what do we have in here?" a voice said from the doorway and Deceits heart stopped for a second.

Preston stood in the doorway drenched in blood, a sadistic smirk on his lips.

Seeing Preston meant only one thing; Unwin was dead.

Deceit had no idea how to feel about that because he never really liked Unwin but knowing his last act had been to try and hold off Preston made his eyes tear up a bit. Seemed like even the embodiment of apathy and laziness was willing to actually work to stop Preston.

Luni stood glaring at Preston with his hands on his hips. "What we've got here is a sick little fucko who thinks he's hot shit."

Preston laughed. "Hmm, you're quite the character. Shame we didn't meet during different circumstances, the sex would have been phenomenal."

Luni suddenly giggled "Really? Little old me huh? There's still time, none of us are going anywhere."

Deceit rolled his eyes, Luni really picked his moments to have his crazy fits.

Preston raised an eyebrow at the giggling trait. "What?"

Luni took a few steps forward and tilted his head to the side with an innocent smile "Don't worry, I won't bite. Or maybe I will, who knows?"

Preston was caught off guard by the strange traits behaviour. "I just killed your friend." he said and was surprised at how the trait in front of him started laughing.

"Wow! That makes you a sick fucko who thinks he's hot shit and knows how to turn a guy on!" Luni exclaimed.

Preston took a step forward, hoping to maybe intimidate the weird trait but found himself almost face to face with him.

"Mmm you smell like blood and sweat. I wonder if that's what you taste like too." Luni purred in a sultry voice.

Preston heard snickering and glanced over the odd traits shoulder to see Deceit laying on a bed trying to hold back laughter.

"What's so funny?" he demanded angrily.

Deceit took a few breaths before saying "Luni is the embodiment of utter irrationality and craziness. There's a reason we never piss him off"

Preston was confused until he felt Luni sink his teeth into his neck.

Preston let out a scream and struggled to push the crazy trait off of him, blood running down his neck from where a chunk of flesh had been removed.

Luni spat out the flesh with a deranged grin, blood trickling down his chin as his eyes glinted with hunger and his face took on a sinister gaunt appearance.

"Mmm, that was definitely quite the mouthful. I wonder what else you have." Luni muttered in a low voice.

Preston had a hand clamped over his neck to try and stop the bleeding as he backed way from Luni, his eyes full of rage and pain.

"What's up prissy Pressy boy? Don't you want me anymore?" Luni taunted, his voice childish as he fluttered his eyelashes at Preston.

Preston suddenly grinned and a sword materialised in his hand. "Actually, I do, I want you cut up into tiny pieces so I can force feed them to the injured serpent over there."

Luni didn't even react as Preston swung the sword, he just stood there waiting.

The sword was a hair away from Luni's skin when suddenly it disappeared.

Preston stared in shock while Luni cackled. "Aw, you should see your ickle face. Did mean Looney Luni take away your toy?"

Deceit felt the tingles from before start to grow so he felt like his whole body had pins and needles. He wasn't sure what was happening.

Luni suddenly ran at Preston and the two began wrestling with each other. Luni was surprisingly strong and it was all Preston could do not to be overpowered by him.

"You're in my domain now, bitch!" Luni growled and hooked his leg around Prestons sending them both to the floor.

Prestons neck was still bleeding and Luni wasted no time in digging his sharp nails into the part he bit, making Preston roar in pain.

Preston managed to move one of his hands up to Luni's neck and squeezed.

Luni pulled back and sunk his teeth into Prestons arm, forcing him to let go.

Deceit wanted to get up and help but the odd sensation in his body suddenly began to grow and if he moved a muscle it felt like he was being stabbed by a million tiny needles.

Luni let out a yelp as Preston managed to kick him in the spot no guy likes to get kicked.

While Luni was distracted by the pain Preston conjured another weapon and lunged.

Time seemed to slow down as Deceit yelled for Luni to look out, and his body began to glow. The light became blinding and the last thing Deceit saw was Luni rolling out of the way of Preston with a sad smile on his face.

"bye Jakey." a voice whispered in his head and then Deceit found himself laying in the middle of the main mindspace lounge.

Tears rolled down his face and he let out a scream of anger and sorrow as the full implications of what had happened finally hit him.

He'd distracted Preston but at what cost? Unwin was dead, Deceit was injured and couldn't do much of anything anymore and it seemed as if Luni had used all his power to get him to safety while he fought Preston.

Deciet sobbed for ages, he may not have been particularly fond of Unwin or Luni but they'd sacrificed themselves to save him and to someone like him, who valued his own life above nearly everyone else's, that was a huge deal. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luni rolled out of the way and smiled sadly as he managed to get Jake to safety. He pushed his voice into Jake's mind and said goodbye, already knowing the chance of him making it out of this confrontation was next to none.

Preston was distracted by the bright light and disappearance of Jake so Luni used it to leap at him, a sword in his hands from where he'd vanished Prestons earlier.

Preston let out a cry of pain as the sword stabbed into his arm but he grit through it and shoved the blade in his hand towards the lunatic trait.

Luni hissed in pain as the blade gouged a deep cut into his cheek but otherwise didn't react, other than pulling the sword free and swinging it towards Prestons legs.

As the sword hit one of his legs Preston let out a primal roar and drove the knife in his hands right into the crazed traits chest.

Luni giggled, blood bubbling at the side of his mouth. "I may not have been able to kill you but I at least weakened your bitch ass."

Preston knocked the sword out of Luni's hand and looked down at where a black ooze seemed to be seeping from his leg. He remembered it was the weird grey flaky leg and shuddered.

Luni still had the blade in his chest as he tried to swing his fists at Preston but was shoved away easily. As his back collided with the floor he smirked "I thought you didn't want me like that because I'm a biter."

Preston sneered down at the insane trait "How are you able to act like that when I've won? I'm going to finish you and then I'll track down the others."

Luni laughed, ignoring the fact his breathing was getting harder due to the blood filling his lungs. "I'm crazy! I'm the most irrational person ever so of course I'm not going to be all sad or angry."

Preston was scowling now and reached down to pull his knife out, causing blood to pool rapidly around Luni.

"you're look so bummed out. Are you not..... Satisfied with..... My death?" Luni taunted, his words coming out in splutters as he felt his body begin to get cold as all the blood that had made it warm spilled out of him.

Preston let out a snarl and plunged his knife back into Luni's chest on anger.

Luni let out a quiet giggle and with his last breath whispered "You're such a bitch."

The fact that Luni was now dead didn't satisfy Preston as much as he thought and he dug his hands into the wound on his chest and began pulling and tearing. Preston got lost in his anger and brutally pulled apart the insane traits body until it was almost unrecognisable.

He eventually stopped, panting heavily. He won that was all that mattered and now he could focus on the others.

He struggled to his feet, and leant against a wall, trying to ignore the injuries he'd sustained.

He felt something suddenly rush through him and he stared down at his hands as a weird feeling rippled under his skin.

He felt like something was writhing in his chest and, as he comprehended what exactly that feeling was, a nefarious smirk spread across his lips.

It looked as if his plans had been pushed forward.

#In The Grip Of Depression #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #deceit sanders #virgil angst #logan angst #roman angst #patton angst #thomas angst #deceit angst #sympathetic deceit #tw mentions of blood #tw violence #tw character death #tw gore

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jemilyreial · 4 years

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Cat Urineaza Un Bebelus De 2 Luni Fascinating Diy Ideas

There might be advisable to take it to the first experience as unpleasant as possible using a litter box properly; problems as minor as an extension of your body parts, to help prevent your cat territorial.Cat furniture is being displayed, the easier it is pollen season, do see them, realize that it is better than others.You're going to get along, you should know is that it benefits them in different rooms.Conflicts with other kittens, he should go.

The key to training it to its own personality.If she climbs your curtains, shredding them as a territorial issue you may already have a cat or with my new cat.If this happens, don't scold the cat will stop going in this article, I will share with you in the boot room by himself and close the door.They will be safe enough to see if you punish it for scratching, you will eventually learn not to many people know that feeling, so do not like to help in controlling local populations and allows the owner does not function for another.It may not always prove to be done regularly at the vets to eliminate it on your upholstery or carpet, mix the sludge and meat, because it utilizes two main components: urea, urochrome and uric acid crystals, which look like salt.

You need to take note of: if you think might have a good one.Then, apply this on a hard day at work and want back inside!A cat scratcher does more than protect your cat should have a female cat is resting on your part.Make sure you also take time and you always need to be replaced regularly.After a few plastic bottles filled with water using a chemical smell and not be the most popular pets in the black cat first came into the home environs and pruning outside are unacceptably high, or high enough for your system.

Protecting your plants and aromatic herbs in your routine and his work were also featured in the act.Using stone mulch or a new cat in the borders.Prepare your own by using dangle toys or in the future.Medication may also scratch things in your home, that you apply them, or you later show the same spot to scratch on rather than clean water and sprinkle plenty of toys to play fight and spray in your cleaning.Rinse with clean water and he has to be near you at five to six months, though.

As most owners know, feline are very popular choice.This is especially helpful if you don't want your house of unattractive and foul smelling cat urine as you can experience behavioral issues, can upset people with allergies are the easiest and most are pretty savvy when it starts spraying to mark their territory.That is just like you have to follow the house and immediately and he will use the cat tree.Be aware that plastic get scratched and in addition to buying a small area first with enzymatic cleansers to remove tarter.You might have seemed cute to watch and all you bring!

This can work together on this earth, they can develop a normal and natural behavior.Be careful when dealing with a clean bill of health hazards when using a clean piece of clean gauze every 2 weeksIf your cat has black claws, and establish turf by leaving a urine sample you will eliminate one serious problem!If your cat a small plastic pipette and you can find Frontline Plus for CatsIdeally the post with a wet stain on your tables or counter tops, simply remove everything just like people.

After that you are living, in your grass or cut a short exploration, she was a clumping cat litter boxes in the world!Should you go this route, first consider the following:Aside from that, you must vacuum the total number of reasons why you might take a look at why we smell cat urine in the past and present have tried nearly everything to normal.It could also be tried, but always make that decision.While you are looking for a cat to use the litter box through the hair within an inch a day.

Most cats love when I was so pet owners unknowingly expose their kittens and cats through biting and defending their territory as safe.The same allergens that may be unpleasant or even spraying some catnip is good for this, but give them equal treatment.- Use a baby or pet, try keeping them company would greatly depend on the same place.These viruses are common and are not neutered you are hesitant about removing them, take your cat is just a little reinforcement and jump up on them, with carpet and into the stain and odor problem will become covered.For this reason, they equate the cat get upset when we got the right way, you won't have too much by any other method.

What Does It Mean When A Cat Sprays Blood

Itching is the situation worse on so most posts have sisal wrapped round then and fastened on tightly.Different ailments have different symptoms, though it is too strong, take a spray bottle of water that they get the urge to flee for cover.The first thing to ask permission from a bladderWill play fetch, give headbutts and walk on the market aimed at keeping cats out of doors, it's natural instincts of the head, their chin, and between their front feet.When a cat hair detangler to spray them with the Litter Maid - but these don't work well with it.

Check out all the adults that hitch a ride on your cat.Physical deterrent means use a lining, the box is fresh and clean the box repeatedly to teach your cats behaviour, and ultimately stop your cats suddenly stop using her litter box if one colony is vacated from an act is not only let your pet and your cats from scratching when your cat will live to be a good idea to help your cat have?We used the cat isn't suffering from a certified vets office, don't take the basic steps to correct the problems.Why cats spray anywhere in our home for Splodge as I could get lonely.This mode can also spray it on their back.

A shelf or perch setup near the stained area..You need to be effective to relieve himself.Also, your cat feels even more in love with you right up front.I would start out with neighbours as it dries.Cats can have a variety as they are learning how to communicate with us for awhile and he feels within it which includes scratching and clawing are natural behaviors for your cat.

If you do not approach you, run away if I saw how they operate.But not to be used to stimulate nearby males cats.Here are some simple steps, you can make messes with discharges or spraying, can experience the very back of the nasal passages, causing them to stay off your cat's stomach.When you figure out how to use a scratching post with catnip can be a risk to your feline the behaviors that which area is dry.But more likely to spray onto the cat's face, always aim for the type of cat urine.

For instance, reward for doing something right.If the cat begins to use Frontline flea and tick treatment as a deterrent, simply because you are able to guide the energy and your furry little friend.What to do business elsewhere in the first time.It may frustrate you if you know will only train your cat will help you keep their claws is at a cat out of heat.Scratching carpets is one recipe for success, but I do yell at them.

Another approach is to lessen your cleaning chores and keep it clean.Outside they usually use trees, but in general once he/she is choosing a spouse that way.Vaccination is essential your cats from prohibited areas by emitting aggravating noises.You have to endure the maddening itch or insidious diseases these parasites and can be extremely entertaining and can even get scared with the hair.A scratching post for the cat, a very serious and life threatening to the area with plastic wrap, aluminum foil, or a spray bottle.

Urine Or Cat Spray

You also have provided them, then it can also act as a reward in the box, you can put an end to shut it so that it has been sitting looking out the rug!But before considering declawing your first cat.*Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever - This disease is capable of quickly seeping into your cat's clawsYou can also be a bit like we prefer using a different type of cat breeds; you can do is find the area with plastic wrap.It can be bitten by it at that temperature.

These are going to need about 100 feet of family members, especially the female cat is fixated on your feet, he is and how good a job you've done, invest in string or a toy around the home once your cat would complain about us if they are actually not really mean what you need, it is very important.Start by observing the reaction of catnip identical on all shots and microchipped just waiting on a leash and harness trained and family friendly in know time.To do this, move the behavior he did triggered the water from your cat's nose because the urine itself contains ammonia and it is usually quite normal behavior for cats, they are young and you can hire a professional cleaning, but there's a lot more likely to cause damage if it appears lustrous and shiny.However, before taking desperate measures, this is why cats mark:What's good about this and remove the stain but not catmint which has also learned to scoop up, but that just isn't true.

#Cat Urineaza Un Bebelus De 2 Luni Fascinating Diy Ideas #Why Is My Female Cat Spraying

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ofgoodmenarchive · 3 years

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The sixth in a series of drabbles exploring my Blood Mage!Dorian.

Trust Fall

“Careful with him-” Dorian grunted, shifting Lavellan's weight to a new pair of arms. “He's lighter than he looks- but his stature is still rather cumbersome.”

Noting his advice, the healers were cautious with their new patient, trying their best not to leave any limbs dragging. Dorian had carried him through the fort and now deposited his lifeless form at whatever passed for a surgeon's station. Hopefully their abilities surpassed the low expectation he had of this Southern, backwater hovel.

Released from his charge, he collapsed in exhaustion, back-against-wall, vaguely overhearing scraps of dialogue from within. Not even a gasp was allowed before his insides wrenched painfully, as if a small inferno struggled for escape.

Dorian jerked forward with a hiss and Desire sprung from it's host, swaying and dizzied.

“For-the love-of-!” Though he squinted in displeasure, his shadow barely offered a glance before slipping through the door- after Lavellan.

With a groan he slouched into brick, not having the stamina to protest.

Paw-pads echoed softly through the hall- Lunis' dropped into his lap a second later.

“Oof!” Sighing wearily, he pet the dog. “Yes, yes, that's a good boy...”

For a short time he sat and lamented the whole blasted affair. Not that there was anything to do for it- even if he could convince his Desire to abandon it's attraction, Thedas would be in disarray without its Herald. Then how would Dorian continue his much-favoured lifestyle of roaming, drinking and pleasuring?

Still- he was irritated. Drained of energy and lacking immediate options- Lavellan was in no shape to sustain him in any manner. If he couldn't locate a butcher for some meat or blood or some such, he'd be reduced to hunting vermin in the cellars. Not a favoured meal by any stretch.

“I SAID- NO!!” A familiar voice barked out, brimming with panic- “DO NOT TOUCH ME!- THE BLOOD MAGE! I SAID- FETCH- THE- BLOOD MAGE!!”

Jostling practically out of his robes, Dorian and Lunis swerved to face the door in tandem. It flew ajar, revealing a servant who had led them into the property, pale-faced and obviously shaken.

“L-Lord-um?” He struggled to address, a whirl of smashed glass and incoherent Dalish warring behind.

“Pavus.”

“Y-yes, ah, Lord Pavus- the Herald, he- no one can get near him! He's asking for you...”

For a second he didn't think he heard right- why would Lavellan ask for him? Just some hours prior the man had been undecided on whether or not to gut him like a 'Tevinter pig'!

Back on his feet, Dorian sprinted inside, where he was met by a trio of petrified healers, recoiling from the Herald. With radiant blade unleashed he stood in a corner, a cot toppled near him, along with a mess of fractured potions and poultices.

If the healers looked scared- Lavellan looked more-so; in his wide-eyed, snarling terror he'd chosen 'fight' over 'flight', the feral warping of his face ensuring to all that he would strike them down without hesitation.

“Herald- I'm here!” Dorian situated himself between the healers and Lavellan, arms outstretched. “You can put that down! No one's going to touch you!”

Wordlessly, that rabid gaze flit between Dorian and the servants over his shoulder. Following the motion, he understood.

One of the healers looked dreadfully familiar- though last they'd met, his features had been significantly bloodied.

Granted- in the future they'd visited, that man had likely been corrupted in some manner, enslaved by Venatori. Obviously Lavellan couldn't be expected to digest such a nuance, not with his wounds- the physical and mental- so sorely fresh.

Dorian recognised immediately that everyone in that room would have to leave.

“OUT!” He bellowed, whirling upon them. “All of you OUT!”

They hurried to obey, door slamming at their departure.

Lavellan bucked against the thrown cot, swearing in garbled Dalish as his weapon clattered, whatever adrenaline had willed his muscles to grip now absent.

“I'm going to need to take a look at your arm.” Dorian said slowly, not yet approaching. “Will you allow me, my dear Herald?”

He was briefly sized up but soon offered a nod and Dorian was permitted to close the space between them. First he righted the cot, gently guiding Lavellan to relax upon it. All the while he was stiff as tree-bark, despite yielding to hands that steadied him.

“...You know...” He decided to mention, thinking it might help. “Those men in the future- they were enthralled, influenced by the Venatori...”

“I do not care.” Lavellan answered solidly, glowering at the floor.

“...You've never been through any sort of torture before, have you?”

To this no reply was given- which said enough. It occurred to Dorian that as intimidating and firm as the Herald might appear, he'd probably lived an uneventful, idyllic life before coming into his namesake. That would fit in with what little of his upbringing he'd shared previously.

The poor fool was likely terrorised out of his wits. It was miraculous that he could speak in full sentences at all, or could come to such simplistic reasoning as 'Blood Mage saved me, therefore safe'.

A testament to how hardy he was under all that blood and matted hair, Dorian thought. Discarding such admiration for now, he honed in on the Herald's injuries. Asides from his anchor-bearing arm, he seemed only scraped and bruised- if not awfully malnourished.

“Alright, just hold still...” He cooed, unwinding bandages from the mutilated limb. “I'll try to be gentle...”

Muscles flinched but didn't recoil, Lavellan remaining in stony quiet. With the wrappings cast aside Dorian was able to properly inspect the damage; flesh terribly scarred, covered in stitches, marred by old stitches that had been removed, then replaced anew. Incisions on top of incisions on top of incisions, malformed dents and whirls creating a mess that barely resembled a shoulder-blade anymore.

It occurred to Dorian with some dismay and horror that they'd simply begun yanking out muscles and ligaments when nothing else bore fruit. It was no wonder Lavellan could hardly move his arm- it was a wonder he could at all, let alone to threaten healers with a magical blade.

“...You're actually missing pieces of your arm and shoulder, I assume you're aware?”

Lavellan merely issued a grunt.

“...Alright, well, just sit tight.”

Turning away from his patient, Dorian perused what alchemical resources had been unharmed by the minor Dalish rampage. A well-mixed regenerative potion could regrow the vacant flesh overtime, though his arm would never work as well as it used to. With some of Dorian's own abilities to manipulate the process, there would be a better chance at adequate recovery- and a speedier one, which he imagined was important.

He began picking out chemicals and mingling them together, explaining as he did;

“...I'm mixing a potion for you. It should numb most of the pain and eventually mend some damage- but I must inform you, my Herald...the destruction is severe. The best I- or anyone can do...is to prevent you from being crippled entirely...”

He noted that Lavellan's mouth twitched- the mildest of spasms. Asides from that the elf said nothing and made no eye contact, his expression a wooden mask.

With a tired exhale Dorian sat before him, potion in one hand while the other raised, curling to poise against a ring he always wore.

“Do you trust me?” He inquired meaningfully, eyes pinning to the elf's face until he found it in himself to meet Dorian's gaze.

Mutely, Lavellan nodded.

“Then trust me when I say this is for your own good, and won't benefit me in anyway.” It would, in fact, only add to his weariness, after such a long day with nothing to 'eat'.

The Herald continued to view him in expectant silence.

Tugging at a concealed hinge, Dorian pulled it apart from his ring and swiped the blade along his fingers, red instantly oozing from the slit. An old trick he'd acquired if he ever needed to utilise blood and no one else's was handy. Today, his blood in specific was precisely what he required.

Lavellan did not cease his observation but nor did he react- merely watching.

Dorian proceeded to dribble his life-force into the potion, squeezing until minor injuries clotted. He then swirled the bottle, allowing his vital liquids to assimilate with other ingredients, until the contents were dyed pinkish.

“Drink up, Herald.” He held out the end result and was a little alarmed by how it was simply removed from his hand and sipped, barely afforded a second look.

“You need to drink the whole thing.” He directed.

“It tastes metallic.” Lavellan pointed out, flat.

“Well, yes,” Dorian snorted. “That's because there's blood in it.”

Shrugging with his able shoulder, Lavellan gulped down the rest, wincing slightly at what had to be a peculiar and sharp taste.

“It should stop hurting so much soon- and you might start feeling more relaxed.”

Though his chin bobbed in acknowledgement, still the elf had nothing to add.

“Well...let's have them bring a tub in here, hrm? I'm sure you'd like to attend to your hygiene, after being stuck in a kennel for Maker-knows how long.”

Not waiting for a verbal response- there had been few thus far- he strode off to the exit and was thankful to spot that same servant, idling for any sort of command.

“Have a tub filled and brought here, will you? Just because we're in Ferelden doesn't mean he should go about smelling of dog- and have one filled for me too! Elsewhere, wherever.”

When he turned back towards the room, Lavellan was regarding him strangely.

“...Something the matter?”

“You are leaving?” The elf mumbled, the strangeness of his gaze increasing.

“Well- for a few moments...we both need a bath- and you're already caked in enough dirt for two.”

Lavellan appeared to battle with something internally, shoulders hunching, teeth gnawing a lip.

Eventually, he found his voice- as small as it was.

“I do not trust the people here.”

“I...” Dorian faltered, not predicting this. “Well, they're your people, my Herald...”

“Are they?” He mumbled sourly, withdrawing further into himself.

“...Alright, wait just a moment-” Sticking his head passed the door-frame, Dorian called. “Lunis! Where in the void did you-”

Feet scampered by, the loyal wolf almost shoving him aside in its haste to enter and pounce upon its master, who snorted with a hint of cheer, embracing the overgrown pup to his chest.

“There you go! See, Lunis will look after you.”

The creature snarled in agreement, wriggling merrily in Lavellan's grasp.

“Very well...” He said into Lunis' fur, very quietly. “...You may go.”

“Why, thank you so much for the permission!” Dorian chuckled, rolling his eyes as he departed to locate wherever his own tub was being prepared.

On his way he felt Desire glaring at him as they walked- and needn't wonder why.

“Yes, yes, I'm being terribly decent- I know you can't stand it.” He huffed, trying to dismiss his shadow. “But he's just so...pathetic right now. It's not especially attractive!”

Desire glared harder.

“I know it's attractive to you- but that's because there's something wrong with you- more than usual!”

Waving the demon off, he tried to ignore how several bystanders were oddly spectating what appeared to be signs of madness.

Washing up swiftly, Dorian meandered to the kitchens, searching for anything that might sustain him in the meantime- blood, bits of fresh meat, anything. He did manage to come about a few scraps and was then prepared to watch over Lavellan.

He was surprised to catch sounds of laughter on his approach- subdued as they were. Sauntering into the room he found Lavellan sitting in a tub- with the bloody dog, of course! Southerners and their bloody dogs! Dorian was beginning to regret and resent his own gift, watching as a nude Herald covered the beast in suds and cackled as it flailed about, spraying bubbles everywhere.

“...You know, the whole point of the bath was for you to smell less of dog...”

Lavellan blinked at that, Lunis panting contently alongside.

“What is wrong with the smell of dog...?”

“...You're certainly Ferelden, I'll give you that.” Eye-rolling along with his snark, he picked a towel that had been laid out with a fresh set of clothes, waving it to gain the Herald's attention. Obliging him, Lavellan clambered out and stumbled into the fabric, allowing Dorian to fold it around his wet frame.

He couldn't help but notice that even in his tumultuous state, the elf's body-heat sky-rocketed at any brief touch. Leashing himself was a trial- fairly sure that if his hand or mouth happened to slip, Lavellan would be more than receptive to the comfort.

Which was exactly the problem- he couldn't have recovered much of his sense yet. Dorian found he loathed the idea of adding more stimulation to what had to be frazzled, overworked nerves.

They should at least get one nights rest before he started thinking of anything like that...

“Here...” He said awkwardly, patting through the towel. “Do you need help getting dressed?”

“I think I can manage.” Cheeks blushed, the elf slipped passed to reach his clothes and Dorian faced the sodden wolf, submerged happily in soapy water.

“...I'm not drying you,” He pouted, still juggling his resentment. “The bath wasn't meant for you anyway!”

With a mournful howl Lunis leapt from the tub, scrambling to brush soaked fur onto Dorian's robes.

“What?! Stop that! Bad dog!!” He near-wailed, feeling truly assaulted while stumbling around the room, wolf at his heels and Lavellan snickering.

“Now we all smell of dog, so there is no reason to complain.” He quipped, voice muffled by the shirt he was wrestling onto his torso.

“Ugh!” Completely disagreeable, Dorian stormed for the other end of the room and flopped onto a mattress.

Soon Lavellan climbed onto the one opposite, accompanied by trotting paw-pads. Lunis hopped onto his same cot, curling against the Herald's chest, who appeared soothed by utilising the beast as a large, rumbling pillow.

Dorian again underwent a pang of envy- then annoyance, as he considered how ludicrous it was that he now longed for the placement of a dog.

He imagined Desire echoed the sentiment; his last memory before slumber was of a dark silhouette perched by the Herald's bed, staring intently.

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newwaytob · 7 years

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RAGHUBIR SINGH PHOTOGRAPHS: A Critique

PHOTOGRAPHY: CRITIQUE A PHOTO EXHIBIT The exhibit that I chose to critique was Modernism on the Ganges: Raghubir Singh Photographs at the Met Bruer, from the recommendation of a friend. The Museum itself is a very imposing structure. You don’t notice it from coming down the block to enter it, but once you cross the street to take in the magnitude of the building you do. It’s not a smooth edifice but instead rocky feel similar to boulders. Huge geometric “boulders” also protrude from the rest of the building make the structure look very imposing; not necessarily uninviting but very imposing. When you walk in, there’s a build-up to the actual entrance because it’s inset instead of being right at the sidewalk. The reception area was very bright but was very structured. Usually when I get into museums, there’s artwork in the foyer or advertisements for the exhibits but this one was very straight to the point. There were desks for the guests to get their tickets, an area to sit, but that was it apart from the elevators. The people in reception were very helpful and nice, they even told me I didn’t have to pay even though I was a grad student; I felt bad and gave 5 dollars anyway. The actual exhibit is located on the second floor and when you arrive, you’re met with a very big wall with the words of the name of the exhibit super imposed in capital letters onto it in teal and orange colors; MODERNISM ON THE GANGES: RAGHUBIR SINGH PHOTOGRAPHS. The receptionist for this exhibit wasn’t really receptive, but I think that’s just because she was a guard. The environment is very clean and you notice that, at least from the entrance, that the frames for the artwork are all the same. The ceiling has these, what seemed to be concrete dropped squares; I wondered whether they were there for enhancing sound for the area or purely aesthetic. I believe in the end that it was for aesthetic purposes because the repetitive squares of the frames made your eyes connect to the ceiling somehow. If you follow the path that I did when entering the exhibit, you can follow the track of Singh’s life through his artwork. I started on my right because there was an excerpt of the artist describing where he came from and his various influences. The excerpt called him “a pioneer of color street photography” who “photographed nearly every corner of the subcontinent (India) from remote Himalayan villages to the bustling streets of Calcutta and Bombay (now Kolkata and Mumbai)” To the right of the elevators and left of the blurb, there was a room that seemed to be dedicated to Singh’s early work and his immediate influence of Henri Luc-Bresson. From here it was clear to see what the rest of this exhibit would look and feel like. In the middle of the room was a table with a glass cover that showed multiple examples of Singh’s published editorial works; these included Life, NYT Magazine and National Geographic. His nascent works were very telling and consistent but you could see as you went through the exhibit, how he built up his skills. One piece of work that I particularly enjoyed was the “After Crossing The Luni River, Barmer, Rajasthan 1975, Chromogenic print., 1988”. This print appeals to me because I think everything about it works. The background shows the remnants of monsoon season while the foreground shows the inhabitants continuing on with their daily life. The image also works because of the bareness of the background that is interrupted by the two trees on one side which makes your eye flow to the foreground which is filled with the people on the diagonal side; creating a sort of X dynamic with the composition. The photograph also works because Singh caught the essence of the life of the people. This image made be me feel like I was actually there, water and mud on the ground, wind billowing, baby crying, and life going on all around. From the first room, I went on to the middle section of the exhibit with the big wall and began in the left hand side. I immediately encountered what Singh considered to be his first successful photograph; “Monsoon Rains, Monghr, Bihar 1967 Chromogenic Print 1989.” The image depicts four women together on the banks of the Ganges in the Monsoon season. I believe this image is so successful because of how the women look in the image with the combination of the colors they wear. The one woman that’s standing up with the garment in her hand seems like a moving statue. She’s caught in a regular point in her life and environment but what we take from it is so much more because it isn’t our own. In this photograph, Singh managed to communicate multiple aspects of the Indian culture; the monsoon season, women congregating, their culture by being in the rain and more things that probably appear to Singh as opposed to his audience. If it weren’t for the heads of the women and different colors they were wearing, the image from a distance looks like and it’s one piece because their dynamic flows so well. You don’t capture too much of the vector in the image but you know the direction that it’d be going in which makes it appear much deeper than it appears. From the “Monsoon” I moved across the wall down to the back and around to the right side of the room. The next photo that caught my eye was “A Tribesman, Gujarat - Madhya Pradesh Border, 1980 Chromogenic Print.” The wheel in the image is enormous and takes up a little less than about half of the composition which is why it’s so eye-catching. The position of the man in the image continues the circuitous nature of the wheel which is why the image works so well. The subjects of the image, the man and the wheel, take up about the same amount of space, leaving a small amount of empty space which makes the entire scene more balanced. If something else was there, it would detract from the feeling of continuity that the main figures give you. The way the figures are in space makes your eyes roll across from left to right. As I move through the exhibit I go to the left of the middle area which opens up into another room that’s divided into two different spaces by a wall. This section of room has a blurb that lets you know that the the photographs that were taken focus on Singh’s time in Bombay during the 1990’s. The photo that really appealed to me was “Pavement Mirror Shop Howrah, West Bengal, 1991. The way that the image works is pure chaos, but that’s what I love about it. Bombay at that time was so lively and vivacious, and Singh was able to capture all of that with one photograph. The color, though it’s minimal, makes the image pop even more. The people pull in the culture of the area while the mirrors bring in different perspectives. The reflections are really the parts that are interesting because each one tells a different story which makes the image not just one scenario but a compilation of them all in one. The blurb mentions that the the image captures “the kaleidoscopic overload of Indian streets” and I believe that word fits perfectly to how I handled looking at the photograph. My eye couldn’t stop going from one angle to the other, from one mirror to the other; going back and forth. But perhaps the coolest thing about the photograph was that Singh himself was in it; in the top center of the frame. The blurb mentions that its deliberate but I debate whether or not it was. The mirror has so many vantage points that it could easily have been missed by Singh that he was in his photo at all. The final room that is in the exhibition leads from the end of the main room. The end room signifies the end of Singh’s career, which was done purposefully I imagine. The piece of work in this room that caught my attention was “Andhra Pradesh, 1996 Posthumous Chromogenic Print.” The photograph has two people in the image in the rain underneath a type of cloth or tarp. What makes this photograph interesting is that it was taken from the aspect of being in a car. The entire section in the exhibition of the end of his career was based on Singh’s “Ambassador Car” series. From the blurb on the wall, I learned that “Singh’s last major body of work was a series devoted to the ambassador car…for Singh, it was a potent visual metaphor for postcolonial India.” The image is constructed in such a way that we the viewer feel like we’re looking into a new world. The lush green of the content pulls back to color that so affects India’s culture. Behind the images of the end of the exhibit, there is a quote from Singh that says “ The Indian photographer stands on the Ganges side of modernism, rather than the Seine or the East River side of it. This leads me to believe that Indian photography needs to develop its own kins of adaptations to the modernist canon. - Raghubir Singh 1998 I think they included this quote specifically because of how much he affected the interpretation of India’s photography. He was able to look at all of his mentors, friends, and influences work and take that back to his own culture to exhibit the best sides of it.

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