#spent 24 years giving everything to my family and they returned the favor by leaving me in a rotting box to die and i let it work lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rinharu-purple · 3 years

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Emmm 👉👈 can i request Gavin's spring festival date analysis?! Ehem especially when Gavin said "I've waited a long time for today.." 💙

But Of course if you're not busy.. I'll wait patiently.. I just.. love read your analysis 💙 like i can feel your love and dedication for Gavin.. a lot of Gavin stan is very smart and loyal.. just like Gavin itself

Hello nonny and of course you can! Thank you for your lovely ask and reading my posts. It makes me really happy to hear this 💞 I can also double up what you've said, Our birdcop is smart and loyal and I really love being a part of Gavin-standom which includes so many talented writers, artists, analysts and it has @cheri-translates! There are so many great posts from various accounts and one can feel the love, passion and loyalty towards Gavin in all of them! 💫

An analysis on Spring Festival date is so overdue, so it is me who should apologize for not having written this before. I will more than gladly include your request scene, I hope you enjoy it ^_^

MC Testing Waters: Spring Festival Date

At the beginning of the game, MC is a young woman with lots of love in her heart, however without much experience in love. Fortunately this starts to change when she meets LIs as adults.

Spring Festival Date takes place after Firework Date and before the Romantic Date, although the timeline is quite messy, which I will come to by the end of this analysis.

If you look closely, you can see MC checking Gavin's romantic feelings towards her by using this "boyfriend game" and also uses the opportunity to get beyond his hardened exterior and touch his vulnerable side 💗

Spoilers start below this line

This date comes to, because MC lies to her aunt about having a boyfriend to avoid arranged blind dates and even promises to visit her on New Years with her boyfriend. Speculatively it seemed like a solid play, until...the time literally came.

Thinktanking about a way out of this with Kiki and Willow, they weight different options as to tell them she broke up with him, leave the city or call in sick but then the best wingman on earth Minor saves the way and suggests that she just takes a "fake boyfriend" with her, surely enough with Gavin in his mind.

MC goes through her contacts list to search for a suitable candidate, but her heart Whispers her the answer by skipping a beat as her fingertips scroll down to one name.

... Gavin

As such... MC has chosen her player for the game and Gavin's Heart Trial with MC's family commences...

---Press Start---

Creativity Test

Unluckily Gavin actually shows up for this highly important date late, with his phone off! From the storyline he arrives a couple of minutes late to MC’s aunt's place, thus starting the game one point behind. He was late because he was buying presents for the whole family! With the spot on gifts which are well received by the family because they're expensive, imported goods, limited products, cute and thoughtful he makes up for the lost points.

But it's just the first stage and he has 3 more stages to clear, the pressure is slowly rising.

This gray suit has a lovely story behind it, which you can find by the end of the story.

Decision Test

Gavin has passed the creativity test with flying colors, but in the second stage more challenging questions are on the menu. The eldest aunt wants to know Gavin's age, occupation, salary(?!) and possessions(?!). The last two questions are fairly over the line and is a no-no in my country. Asking people about their financial status as well as bragging about it is perceived as rude and insolent, that's why the way Gavin answers these questions skillfully without bragging about his wealth adds just another brick on my Gavin-temple.

Age: 24

Occupation: Police Officer

Salary: Covers the bills

Possessions: A flat in the city and a motorcycle.

In my Prank date analysis, I've mentioned about Gavin's ability to deal with impertinence and also here, he stays friendly, but only answers the questions necessary to get through with the situation. MCs family is checking whether he's wealthy enough to take care of MC (which is sad that in the 21st century that in some countries women need to be financially secured by men). So Gavin just gives them just the right enough of information to pass the test and pass he does.

There is another aspect to his way of answering though. You see, Gavin is an unmaterialistic man. He doesn't care about money or any other meta. He doesn't touch upon the fact that he's coming from a wealthy family, or that he inherits his grandparents house or that he can afford designer dresses, overseas travels or gems without giving a second thought. That shows just how humble Gavin is and I love him for it. What defines him is not his wealth, nor does he allow anyone define him on his financial status. It's his character, the values he stand for, the vision he embodies, the way he treats MC.. Ehm.. And.. His champion body and drop dead gorgeous looks (comes as an extra;))

But the game is far from over, because the family council is now going to challenge him on...

Affinity Test

This is where things get rosy as the family would like to know how they've met and whether they've been together since high school.

Look, Gavin is actually not playing a game, but living the moment. He is well aware of the fact that once he and MC become an official pair, he will be standing on the same spot a year later. He is serious...

So when they ask about their affection, he gives them his genuine answer and confesses his crush on her during high school and says that they've been going out since fall. This dazzles MC, as if she hasn't been dazzled enough lol.

The three glasses of drink he gulps surely has a role in this sincerity and taking three glasses of a drink as a punishment also becomes a tradition for MC and Gavin in the future.

And so, he proudly passes the Affinity Test with flying colors, effortlessly. Only one more stage and he's done it!

Execution Test

Every hero has his moment, when the fight takes a gloomier turn against his favor and the odds don't look good as before when he gets a strong blow, that is when the family hits him with the question "Don't you get alone well with your family?".

This is Gavin's weak spot, his cryptonite, his bleeding wound and MC's family just pressed on it. What makes this scene so heartbreaking is not just the topic itself and we know why it is a sensitive topic for Gavin but also that Gavin actually tries to signal them that this is not his favorite topic. He tells them he doesn't go home for holidays (friendly warning number 1), the aunties pushes by telling him to take some meal with him to which he replies "Thanks, but that's okay. I've been away for a long time" (friendly warning number 2) the family pushes further and as a one last resort he tells them that during college he rarely went there and spent holidays working afterwards (friendly warning number 3). Sadly the auntie than ignorantly ask whether his family doesn't worry about him and now because he's given three fair warning shots which, he downright gives them a brief and resolute answer:

- No.

That's usually the latest where people with common sense stop digging in further. Unfortunately then the auntie asks whether he doesn't get along well with his family to which Gavin no longer responds. This is the perfect way of dealing with such people and Gavin has a very intuitive talent for dealing different people from different mindsets. Give them three friendly and fair warnings, still pushing? Then give them a last chance by one final brief and to the point answer, they choose to ignore the signal? Stop interacting, you can only waste time beyond this point.

The only problem with this situation here, is that these people are not just somebody, Gavin wants to win these people over, so he cannot just ignore them. But also he cannot do it without a timeout, so he goes to grab some wine. (God it makes me so sorry everytime he has to face his family drama or is misjudged. I just wanna hug him bring him hot cocoa, give him a backrub and bring spicy food for him. Luckily he has MC ^_^)

But let's not talk only about about Gavin, because MC is struggling too. And we should recognize her stick up for him with the most cherishing words:

-Auntie, you got it wrong. He is a decent and pure man and has come to my aid many time and in quite dangerous circumstances.

When she comes back however cannot find Gavin, once she does, a heartwarming moment blooms between them.

This scene is very crucial in Gavin and MC's relationship because this is the first time MC sees Gavin tired and flustered. She feels sad for him but also happy for herself, for she feels as though she gets closer to him, thus seeing the real Gavin. By the way she show him her genuine care, Gavins heart melts and kisses the back of her hand as a gesture and so the first intimate moment involving them having a kiss ensues. Furthermore, they show each other their mutual care, which brings them one step closer and this gives Gavin the only courage he needs to tackle the situation.

When our hero gets the courage and the stamina he need from his girl, nothing can stop him now. Having gatherer his strength, Gavin returns to the dinner table:

“I am so happy to be here with you all today. In fact, I haven't felt this atmosphere of family in a long time. I have a very strict father and a brother I seldom see...I don’t even know when I turned into such a loner. Eating alone, sleeping alone, doing everything alone...until I met her. It was a beautiful autumn day. The gingko leaves were floating in the wind. I was also going through a pretty dark time. But she saved me before I hit bottom...It’s she who told me I could live a stronger life. And it’s also she who told me I could live a more tender life. I never felt lonely before, until I met her. I started to get used to star-gazing with her, having dinner with her, spending the New Year’s with her. In the future, I'll give it my all to stay with her, to take good care of her and love her. I wanna make up many times over for all the times I wasn't there”

MC’s heart stopped, aunties eyes teary, the elder Aunt want his actions to back up these words and thus Gavin has a pass from MC's family. Now that he's won the game, it's time to collect his prize.

After they leave MC's aunt's house, our lovebirds walk together in the night full of fireworks and Gavin tells Mc that Minor has mentored him on being the perfect son-in-law, hence he was late. He also asks her what she would do if he didn't show up, to which she says that her intuition says that he won't fail her and he murmurs quietly:

- I've waited a long time for today.

Of course he doesn't repeats himself when MC asks him about what he just said. But that's what kept him going all night long.

He has waited for six whole years to meet her again, to stand by here, take good care of her and love her. Tonight, he could do them all by being her "boyfriend", giving his word to her family and having their blessings. He could see that she also cares a lot for him, worries about him and wants to be there for him. He landed his lips for the first time on her delicate skin and could give her warmth.

He could finally confess his feelings for her and say the genuine things he will only say to her.

So yes, he has waited for a long time for this moment to come and when it came, he made sure to grab it tightly.

----—----—---

Timeline issues:

- The order of the dates in the game doesn't always reflect the real course of events. The grey suit that Gavin wears is actually bought after Romantic Date, which takes place after this date.

-Even though MC plans this whole game to avert blind dates, but she still gets set up later on a blind date by another aunt lol.

Thank you once again for your patience nonny and I hope that the analysis proves to be worthy of your wait 💗

Masterlist

For MC's confession let me take you here

For Gavin and MCs relationship milestones here

For a fun trivia about this date you can click here

#Meeting the family is important #Gavin preparing for being the perfect son in law #And getting help from Minor #Anon asks #mlqc #mlqc gavin #mlqc bai qi #mlqc haku #mlqc baek gi #mr love queen's choice #koi to producer #Meta #Analysis #Saturday night #Saturday

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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 4 years

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i have a request for you! reader is a royal who doesn’t care for their title and therefore doesn’t enlighten the Company of their status. however, when they run into royal guards of reader’s kingdom who refer to them with their title, the Company is flabbergasted; especially Fíli, who has fallen head over heels for our main character. (I love your writing btw! never stop!)

Being royalty can be a real nuisance sometimes.

Between fake friends, special treatment, ransom, and the looming knowledge that, someday, you will be forced to marry someone whom you do not love for people who don't care about you, there's no way you can be truly happy.

Over the years you learned a great deal of different things, like how to bluff, how to break out of bindings, how to fight, and, ultimately, how to lie about who you are.

It's really easy after all.

The thing is, though, you've only learned these skills for the off chance that something happens to you. You're not allowed outside the castle without an escort, and all the battle training you've done has been under the watchful eye of your tutor and nanny.

Of course, you learned how to become an excellent fighter away from their prying eyes, but it's still suffocating.

And this is why you decided to run away!

I know what you may be thinking; what kind of spoiled brat gives away such a cushy life for one of danger and uncertainty?

Well, you of course!!

You're tired of being kept in a cage; of being called, "Highness" and treated like nothing more than an accessory to the king; of having no purpose other than being a pawn to your father who will ship you off the moment a suitor comes along. You want to be who you are. A chance to grow and experience the world. A chance to fall in love on your own instead of forcing yourself to love someone you could not care less for.

Also, your father, ultimately, did find you someone to marry, and when you asked who it was you learned that not only do you not know them, but they're also 30 years older than you.

All of these things are reasons you left.

As soon as you escaped the palace there was panic, guards sent out everywhere to find you and bring you back, hand drawn posters put out on every street lamp and post, it was a whole fiasco.

For a time there you were almost tempted to go back just so they would stop tormenting people over you, but when a greying old man came to you and stated that he knew who you are and that he wanted to give you the chance to go on an adventure, all thoughts of returning home flew out the window.

You met a group of 13 dwarves and one small man that they call a hobbit.

The wizard never told them who you are, so you didn't see much of a reason to enlighten them on your status either.

It feels nice being treated so normally, something you aren't use to in the slightest, but it feels even nicer to make actual friends.

Of course, there are some times where you act a bit off or bratty since you did grow up in a castle with people on your beck and call 24/7, but if they notice it nobody says anything about it.

Thorin, Fili, and Kili, who also just so happen to be royalty themselves, were surprised by how normally you treated them. You spoke to them as if their titles meant nothing to you, joked and complimented them on various things where most would be horrified to do so, and it successfully won their favor.

They don't know it's because you know what it's like to be in their shoes, to be treated specially and oddly just because you were born into a royal family, and you know to some extent that they have a desire to be treated as normal just like you.

Of the three, Fili seemed to take to you the most.

He likes the way you act so normally around him, how you actually care what happens to him and your loyalty to the company.

At some point he actually begins to care for you a great deal more than he probably should, and once he comes to this realization, it's over for him.

He began to do things for you that he hadn't before; like sleeping next to you, offering to accompany you when it's your turn to scout or get firewood, bringing you food in the mornings and at night, and even lending you one of his beloved knifes when the handle of yours broke after a conflict.

When he started treating you differently, you feared at first that he found out who you are, but you soon realized that he just cares about you a lot- like a good friend should.

Ever oblivious you are.

You weren't exactly hiding it from them, the fact that you're basically next in line for the throne, but you didn't necessarily want them to find out either.

It's actually right around the time when you began to think your kingdom gave up their search for you that things took a turn for the 'worse'.

You were all staying in a town for the night, renting out some rooms at a lodging. You and Bilbo get to have your own room since you're not dwarves for one, but the next morning as you all set out to leave and are all well-rested, something happens.

You're walking with Fili down the stairs of the place you all stayed, joking and laughing with each other while you follow the rest outside of the building when the dwarves in front of you both suddenly stop walking altogether.

A soft 'oof' leaves you when you bump into Bifir since he abruptly ceased all movement, and when you look ahead to see what the fuss is about, your heart stops.

"Halt!" Yells one of the 10 guards standing in a semi-circle around all of you.

They wear both the colors and the emblem of your kingdom, so clearly they are here for you, but how the hell did they find you.

Unconsciously you shrink back and half hide behind the door, glad to see that they haven't seen you yet.

"What's the meaning of this?" Thorin asks angrily, reaching for his sword as he glares up at the armed men standing over them.

"We have received word that the missing Y/N L/N has been spotted in this area traveling with a group of strange peoples." The guard states with a blank face, looking down at Thorin suspiciously.

Uh oh, you're screwed.

Fili looks up at you sharply, and duck behind the pillar quickly and crouch down, making yourself as small as possible.

He's gonna sell you out and you're gonna be brought back to that horrible palace, chained up in your room for the rest of your life.

"I have no recollection of coming across anyone of that name. Are they some sort of criminal?"

Your eyes go wide when Thorin pretends not to know you, and you feel your heart fill with joy and appreciation.

"Criminal? No. Try missing heir to the L/N dominion." The guard replies, seemingly less suspicious despite Thorin not really giving him any reason to believe him. "The Royal Highness has been missing for months, and the king and their intended are growing weary."

"Was this Y/N kidnapped?" You hear Thorin inquire further, feeling sick to your stomach that all of your secrets are being aired out like this while you can't so much as get in a peep.

"Nobody knows for certain, though there has been a lot of speculation for both sides."

"It sounds like you've got a lot on your plate, kind sir. I hope your search goes well." Thorin states politely.

The guard nods his head and states nicely, "Thank you."

"May I ask what you plan to do when you find them?" The dwarf presses a bit further, though he keeps his face neutral.

There's a moment of silence, though your can't see exactly what's going on, when the guard replies with what you already know, "Take them to the palace where they can be wed to the Lord of our neighboring kingdom.

"Fitting. If we hear anything we will send for you right away."

"Then we will take our leave." The guard states, nodding at Thorin gratefully before marching off with the others who follow behind him.

You stay in that same place crouched to the ground and huddled against the side of the pillar for a little while, and it's not until you feel a hand on your shoulder that you look up and see multiple confused faces peering down at you.

You offer an awkward smile and say, "Well, that was crazy wasn't it?"

"You're royalty?" Thorin asks, looking down at you with confused and curious eyes.

"You're betrothed?" Fili breathes, his eyebrows furrowed.

You nod your head slowly, pushing yourself to your feet before slowly mumbling, "Yes, and technically yes."

A moment of silence passes by where everyone just stares in awe before Thorin says hesitantly, "If those guards find you, they will take you back by force?"

This time you only nod, glancing off to the side nervously.

"We're already behind schedule... we will discuss this later tonight." Thorin tells you decisively, reaching up to pat your arm lightly before turning and leaving the building.

You stare after him in surprise, and it isn't until Fili mumbles your name that you snap out of it and go to follow.

---

For the majority of the day you ride by yourself, for everyone seems to be acting more oddly around you.

It's not like anything has changed, they just know a little more about you, but still they act like everything is different now.

The better part of your ride is spent in silence, and it's not until Fili's pony falls into step with your horse that your isolation ends.

"You never told us." He begins, looking up at you curiously.

"No, I didn't." You confirm, sighing quietly.

"Why?"

That's a bit harder to answer, but you try anyways, "Because...I didn't know if your uncle would let me come if he knew and I didn't want to be treated differently either. All my life I've had to abide by a certain set of rules and mannerisms, I've had to be taught how to spot fakes and to survive incase someone were to kidnap me for real... for once, just once, I wanted to live my life without somebody treating me specially because of who runs through my veins."

He of all people should understand this, but your heart aches at the thought that he may just find you to be a selfish brat.

"Why... did you leave?" He asks instead of acknowledging your answer.

"I know there are many who have it worse than I, truly I can't even call it bad, but when I learned that I would be married off to somebody I've never met that is 30 my senior... I couldn't take it anymore. The fate tied to me is one that I would seldom wish on anyone, and so I left. I don't give a damn for that place, for they don't give one for me."

A silence passes by that makes you uncomfortable, but you don't look down to see if he's watching you. You don't want to see the face he's making, no doubt one of disbelief or anger over how petulant and selfish you are.

"I suppose I would've left to."

You look down at him sharply at that, your eyes a bit wide since that is not what you were expecting in the slightest.

"I understand. And when I say that I mean I actually understand. Truly." He looks up at you and offers a small smile, "People have expectations of you, and when you express that you never asked for all this responsibility you're seen as nothing more than a bratty child who doesn't understand what they have. When they find out who you are they will go to any lengths to be in your good favor. You never know who likes you for you or for your title.

Slowly you nod your head.

Really, what did you expect? Of course he would get it, he's living through it just as you are! Only he isn't running away from anything at the moment.

"Yes, it's exactly like that." You hum, offering the dwarf a smile, "I don't know why I thought you wouldn't understand. You're probably one of the only ones who does."

'Well, my uncle and Kili too, but yes..." He trails off, then adds, "So, you're an heir."

This makes you scoff, but your face remains pleasant. "Unfortunately."

"Do you... plan on going back?" He sounds more. nervous now, and you make note of that.

"Not really, unless my intended is breathtakingly beautiful." You reply with a smirk, glancing down at the blond dwarf again.

He clears his throat and asks just as anxiously, "Really...?"

"Of course not! I want to be free to love whoever I want." You tell him, shaking your head while you speak, "I want to be with someone who I am both attracted to and happy with."

Fili doesn't respond to that right away, but when he does speak his voice still remains hesitant, "What do you consider... attractive? Who would make you happy?"

"Like qualities?" Before you do what your mind is telling you to, you need a bit of confirmation on his meaning.

He only nods.

"Hm... well, if I'm to start with what qualities make me happy, I would say kindness is very important. They would also have to be strong and fierce, loyal beyond belief, a warrior is always nice, a family man, and, certainly, they must be in love with me too." You begin, nodding along with yourself while a smile falls upon your lips.

"And... my other question?"

"Oh, right! I've always been rather fond of blonds, you should know. Thick hair, blue eyes, a brilliant smile- oh! They must have dimples. That's nonnegotiable..." You trail off and glance down at him, seeing that he's looking at you with wide, surprised eyes, "I've also a thing for shorter men, I don't know why for the life of me. Strength isn't a physical trait but I find that attractive, too."

He's looking up at you with an awed expression on his face, and it successfully makes you smile.

"And... there's one more thing."

He gulps and asks shakily, "W-What's that?"

"Mustache braids. They've got to be the most attractive thing a man can have! I'm most certain its a sign of an excellent kisser." Obviously it's cheesy, but you don't much care since you get to see his adorably red face.

"I-It sounds like you already have someone in mind." He stutters, reaching up to rub the back of his braided head.

"Yes, tell Bilbo I'll be looking for him once he grows out his hair will you-" You joke, watching as his eyes widen for a second before he smiles brightly and starts to laugh.

"Oh! I'll be sure to tell him!" He exclaims, chuckling some more with the biggest and happiest smile on his face.

"Also tell him that I'd care for him whether he holds the crown in his future or not. Those things don't really matter to me."

"I can do that."

You look ahead, the biggest smile ever on your face as well, "One more thing."

"Yes?"

"Tell him that I hope he doesn't look at me differently now that he knows who I really am."

Fili doesn't reply right away to that, but when he does his voice is soft, "I know that he won't, because he loves you dearly and wouldn't care for your status whether you're a monarch to be or a struggling person scrambling to get by."

"Wow, he sure has a way with words." You muse, reaching down to pat the top of his head while your other hand clutches the reins of your horse a bit tighter.

"There's more where that came from."

#fili #thorins company #fanfic #fili imagine #fili x reader #fili durin #the hobbit thorin #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit #the hobbit bilbo #request #ask #answer #fluff

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bechobbi · 3 years

Text

Fortune favours the bold - SamDrake x Reader - (Chapter 6)

Tags: @missdictatorme - @unchartedterritoria - @jodiereedus22 - @aliceriddell-aka-zephyr - @sicparvismagnaforsam - @mooraakath- @uncharted-trash-shar - @tennantmademedoit - @samdrakeftw - @sparrowspt9851 - @reachagalaxy - @irresistiblemonster @original-drake@sw33t-but-psycho @dragonjedihobbit @ellie-drake @fhujami@birdgirl69@mafiahobbit @spaskaalekha @avast-you-dirty-dog @shambhalala@fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @missymysa

Wanna be tagged in/out? Just tell me!

For once, you took a day off "work" and enjoyed the sun and nature that surrounded the motel.

You needed to reflect. You would have liked to accept Sam's proposal immediately, but at the same time you didn't want to endanger anyone else except yourself.

You walked slowly on a dirt path in the small wood in front of the motel. It was a pretty remote place if it weren't for the 24-hour supermarket.

You would have liked to have a plan, you thought, but it wasn't like that at all and you didn't even know where to start. However, you had some information about your evil relatives, they had the money to do everything even make you disappear into thin air.

Part of you was hoping they had forgotten about you after all these years.

Was it really better to leave it to someone else like Sam said?

Small parrots caught your attention. Their feathers were bright green and their noises resounded in the air. They hopped pecking at the ground looking for food a few meters from you. They reminded you of your old house where, in the middle of the large flower garden, there was a fountain where in summer the birds went to cool off.

That memory convinced you even more to want to take everything back even at the cost of risking your life. Then you resumed your march and the parrots soared into the sky as you passed by.

Meanwhile at the motel Sam was making some phone calls:

“Hey old man, how are you doing? ... Yes, yes, I guess so ... Listen, I have a job that might interest you ... It is an inheritance ... Yes ... But the client has yet to give me a certain answer ... As soon as I know something I'll let you know ... OK, ok ... See you soon. "

He threw the phone on the bed and left the room to get a breath of fresh air. It was not easy to find someone, his bad friendships became fewer with the story of the marriage, he had had to cut many bridges because he wanted to start over.

The man had not remained idle while you were out clearing your train of thoughts, he had investigated you and your family.

Your parents were two patrons, two wealthy people who helped less fortunate kids to study and emerge. They were philanthropists, but also the black sheep of their respective families.

Your relatives, on the other hand, were rich stingy bourgeois and bad-hearted, and certainly did not look favorably on the choices of your mother and father.

Sam had even found a couple of newspaper articles reporting the discovery of two corpses, your parents’, but no mention of you.

The bodies had been found following an anonymous phone call received by the police. Together with them documents attesting to debts and tax fraud were found, which for the lazy and corrupt policemen they represented the motive for the death of the two people.

For them, your father would have killed your mother, after which he would have hang himself. A cliché.

“A big mansion, two rich people found dead in a suspicious circumstance, money, different opinions, corrupt police, a 'daughter' ... Interesting” thought Sam.

The man discovered that your mother had had a daughter, but she disappeared into thin air years later. No other births. The date of birth and your age did not match, so he deduced that you probably must have been adopted. Except that there was no sheet to prove it.

Sam needed to know more about you. So he waited patiently for your return plunging back into the search for more.

You came back from your walk, you were calmly walking to the room where you had spent the night. The sun was setting. You knocked on the door, but no one answered. You knocked again. Nothing. You decided to forget about manners and try to open the door. It was open.

"Who the hell is it that doesn't lock the door in such remote place like this ?!" you murmured to yourself.

Upon entering you noticed that the room had been rearranged, the bed had clean sheets and your dirty clothes, which you had left on the floor that morning, had been folded and placed on the desk under the window.

There was a scent of cleanliness and everything made you feel a sensation of warmth in your chest.

You entered on tiptoe almost for fear of ruining that order, you crouched on the ground to take off your boots. Once barefoot, you went to bed and sat down waiting for some sign of life, a noise, anything that would tell you where your roommate was.

Then suddenly the door of the bathroom opened making you jump, you saw clothes fly and land on the floor in front of the bed. You thought it best to emit a rattle to signal your presence and if it wasn't for that you would have found the naked figure of Sam in front of you.

The man promptly tied a towel around his waist and when he crossed the threshold of the bathroom he said:

" You're back!"

You were a bit stunned to see him shirtless and from the towel you could get an idea of the man's virility. A shiver ran down your spine. He was a captivating type, there was no doubt.

“Y-yes, I'm back. I-I tried to knock ... "

"Oh yes? I didn't hear" he said, running his hands through his still damp hair "I was taking a shower”. At the base of his neck, his hair rolled up into more accentuated curls than usual.

"Where have you been?" he asked you taking another towel and passing it over his chest.

It felt like the beginning of a porn movie.

"Ah-um, I took a walk in the woods in front ..." you looked away from him who was now smiling slyly.

"Do you like what you see?" he said.

You blushed and laughed "Idiot, stop it, you make me uncomfortable ..."

He laughed hard as he took clean clothes from a bag in the closet.

"I thought you weren't coming back."

Suddenly a detail struck you, the man's left side showed round scars.

"What are those?" you asked to distract yourself from your obscene thoughts.

"A little memory of Panama, you know I liked it so much that ... well ... I always carry it with me" he chuckled.

You felt the urge to touch those wounds, to understand if they were true or not. Your body moved by itself, you crawled over to Sam and reached out. Your index finger now was brushing those circles of brown and jagged skin. He didn't move, he stayed there giving you his side. You could perceive the diversity of the skin, however soft, and under it the muscles that characterized the figure of the man.

"Did it hurt?" you asked.

"Like hell" he answered in a low voice.

"How did you do?"

At your touch Sam let out a small muffled moan and said "...They shot me."

"... oh ..." you were captured by those jagged circles.

Then suddenly he moved away and said "Now you do understand why you shouldn’t play with weapons?"

"Sorry ..." you said realizing what you just did. You had just touched his weakest points. And he had let you do it.

He smiled putting on a clean white T-shirt, then with jeans and a pair of boxers in his right hand he went to the bathroom to get dressed.

He came out dressed, clean and fragrant.

"I thought we could go get something to eat" he proposed.

Your stomach felt more empty than ever, so you accepted.

You were walking towards the supermarket, you with your hands in your coat pockets and him smoking.

"You are the first person who decides to help me" you said.

Puffs of white smoke left Sam's lips "Well, if you had told someone what happened to you, maybe they would have helped you."

You weren't convinced then he added "Surely, if I hadn't found your backpack you wouldn't have told me anything, and you would have just run away like you always have."

He read your mind, so you bit your lip and smirking you said "How do you know this?

Sam looked at you from his height "I put and two together. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. I did these things too. "

"Then don't lecture me" you teased him.

"You're better than me, that's why I'm warning you" he concluded.

Finally you arrived at the supermarket, crossing the threshold the bell placed at the top of the door rang, signaling the entrance of customers.

"What do you want to eat?" Sam asked.

You just had to put anything under your teeth, so you ordered the attendant behind the bread counter to prepare you some sandwiches to eat on the fly.

During the preparation of what would be your dinner, you took a tour of the supermarket shelves.

Earlier, at the motel, you noticed the now empty bottle of Scotch, so you thought about getting one of the same brand. You grabbed the bottle and went back to Sam.

“I saw that you finished it" you said.

The man gave you a quick glance, then looked into his pockets and counted the money he had left.

"I think we would need a trick to get it" he winked at you and added "See how it’s done!"

With the sandwiches ready and the bottle of liquor you went to the cash desk where the usual swooning and provocative blonde whom Sam already knew was waiting.

"Hi handsome" she said.

"Hi honey, how are you?" Sam answered placing the items on the counter.

She leaned forward as usual to show her breasts "Now that I see you I'm fine"

"I guessed so" the man said letting his eyes wander over her.

"Who is she?" said the blonde pointing at you with her head.

“She is my little sister! We haven't seen each other for a long time, so tonight we wanted to celebrate "

The blonde was loudly chewing a chewing-gum and she was winking at Sam so constantly that she was almost annoying.

"You know..." Sam continued using his mellowest voice "I don't have enough cash with me ... So I thought we could make a trade, honey ..."

She melted like chocolate in the sun.

"What time do you finish, beauty?" Sam said moving closer to her face.

"At 11 pm I finish my shift ..." she said out of breath.

“I'll wait for you outside, what do you think? Me and you... ?" he continued.

She nodded biting her lower lip.

And that was how Sam got the free bottle of Scotch.

On the way to the motel you suddenly turned to the man "Are you really going?"

"Who knows" he replied.

You scrutinized it carefully and after a few minutes of silence you continued "I don't think you will go there"

"And how do you know?" he retorted.

"it's a feeling. You just wanted the bottle of Scotch, you don't give a damn about her "

"Atta girl, I see that we understand each other on the fly. You are impressive ... Furthermore she had floppy tits" he added.

It made you both laugh.

The evening passed quietly between Sam’s stories, time flew. It was a long time since you had such a good time, not to mention the fact that his stories were exciting.

Both of you were bit high from the alcohol and he seemed happier than when you first saw him.

"So?" you said interrupting the speech.

"So what?"

"...Will you help me?" you told him.

"I was waiting for you to ask me... I think so" he replied, lighting a cigarette.

You got up from the bed where you were sitting, you staggered towards him and, while Sam controlled your movements without understanding what you wanted to do, you approached his face. You gave him an intense look that left him breathless, whispered a "Thank you" and stole the cigarette from his hands.

He didn't resist nor react. He stood there motionless contemplating you. After a moment he recovered and laughed out loud "Hey that was mine!" he yelled.

Night fell, Sam slept on the floor to let you sleep in the bed.

The next day you found breakfast again and Sam was waiting for you to wake up sitting next to you on the bed, his back against the wall.

"Hey ..." he said "it's time to get up ..." he moved the locks of hair in front of your closed eyes.

Slowly you became aware "G-Good morning ..."

"Come on sleepyhead, there's coffee ... and... we have an appointment ..."

You sat down too, while Sam handed you the cup of hot coffee.

"Thank you..."

He smiled at you soflty.

Sipping the drink you asked him for more information about the appointment he had just mentioned.

"What do we have to do?"

"We have to meet a person the will help us."

You were surprised. Now you had two people to rooting for you.

"Oh..."

“Don't worry, you will thank us when done. Come on, go wash your face, he will be here soon. "

Taken by anxiety, you gulped the coffee in a single sip and catapulted to the bathroom to wash and dress.

After the shower you changed your clothes and decided to wear a dress that your mother had given you years ago.

Once out of the bathroom Sam couldn't help but notice a new side of you, a more feminine side that you apparently tended to hide.

He whistled at you and said "How cute we are"

You blush saying "My mother gave it to me years ago, I think it's the right time to wear it"

He looked at you from head to toe, made a grimace of approval and added "It fits you divinely."

You blushed again.

The magic moment was interrupted by someone knocking on the door.

"Here he is!" Sam nimbly jumped out of bed to open the door.

A middle-aged man with white hair and a bright look was out there.

“Hey Victor! Long time no see!"

"Hi Sam!"

The two hugged and patted each other on the back while you waited for introductions.

"So, Samuel Drake, will you let me in?" said the older man.

"You're welcome" replied the younger one and clearing his throat added "Ahem, this is the disinherited princess", he put both hands on your shoulders "She is Y / N Y / L / N"

"Hello ..." you held out your hand.

"My pleasre Miss, I'm Victor" he shook your hand. His grip was as strong and firm as Sam's, and from that detail you felt you could trust him too.

Sully took a seat in the chair in the room and you and Sam took place on the edge of the bed.

"So, where do we start?" Victor asked.

Sam waved at you to invite you to speak.

You were so uncomfortable having to tell about your misadventure that you were torturing your fingernails.

Sam noticed your discomfort, so he took one of your hands in his and squeezed them tightly to give you courage. With a smile he gave you another nod and pointing to Sully he said “You can rest assured. Victor and I have known each other for a lifetime, he is a person you can trust, just like me. "

The older man then spoke up and began "I did a lot of research on your family. And you ... you don't appear anywhere. To help you, we need as much details as possible. You can trust me, I give you my word" he concluded putting a hand on his heart.

You held your breath for a couple of seconds, then let yourself go.

“Ok ... I can do it ... I was taken into the house by Mrs. and Mr. Y / L / N when I was about 4 years old. I was part of one of the groups that they followed and to which they gave financial aid to study. Like me, many of my companions had no parents, however, among many, they decided to keep me by their side as if I were their daughter. Only later I understood why: I resembled their missing daughter. Similar eyes, similar attitudes. I heard rumors about this missing daughter of theirs, she wasn't dead, just one day she vanished into thin air. Not being able to have other children, the Lady taught me to call them mom and dad. I grew up with them, studied with them every day of my life. I lacked nothing and I was happy. "

The two men were attentive to every single word that came from your lips. Serious and silent. Occasionally Sam stroked your hands with his thumb and that comforting feeling made you feel good.

“Then one day… I was playing hide and seek with a partner of mine and… I happened to witness an argument between my parents and one of my father's brothers. He brought misfortune, I felt it ... I had never seen my father so agitated ... but at the same time he was determined to continue on his path. "

A tear ran down your face. You stopped your story for a moment as Sam's grip tightened. That gesture moved you and spurred you to go on.

“My father's brother used to say that my parents were doing something wrong and that they should think before doing such a stupid thing. I didn't understand what they were talking about ... I remained hidden listening all the time. Until at a certain point everything was clear: my parents had decided to adopt me and make me the only heir to their inheritance. My relatives, on the other hand, wanted the inheritance for themselves. But my father and my mother had already begun the procedures to adopt me. "

At the word inheritance Sam and Victor threw a knowing look at each other while you continued to unravel the facts.

"My parents ... wanted to remove all their family members from the inheritance because they were people who used the money only for their own purposes, while mom and dad invested in the less fortunate generations ... So to get the inheritance they would have to eliminate me. "

You grasoed Sam's hand and continued in a low voice "... Until one day I’ve found my father hanged and my mother motionless on the ground ..."

Sam interrupted "...Did you do the anonymous phone call?"

You nodded in tears "Yes ... Yes ... It was me who found them ... I felt the world collapse, so I did the wisest thing to do at that moment: run away. It wasn't easy, they tried to track me down, I had a fight with my father's brother, I shot him in the leg as a result of his assault, luckily I didn't end up in prison ... then I finally ran away and they didn't come looking for me anymore. .. "

Sully pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, took one and lit it. He had to ease the tension of the moment. He took a puff of smoke and asked "How long have you been on the run?"

You looked up at him "About 10 years ..."

"Man..." Sam commented.

You dried another tear.

"Could you give us some information about your relatives or about this uncle of yours?" Victor asked.

"He is the most dangerous, the others are simply inepts, but him ... he is a true son of a bitch."

"I learned that he is a drug dealer" added the elderly man.

"Among the many things ..." you commented.

"... and it seems that he has some kind of bodyguard" concluded Victor turning to Sam.

Sam gave him a questioning look.

You looked at them with horror in the eyes and tearing your hand from those of the younger man you burst into a desperate cry "I'll never make it ..."

Sam wrapped you in his arms and you let yourself go to a convulsive cry.

The two men were now looking into each other's eyes. Then Victor said "The bodyguard is only one"

Upon hearing those words Sam felt relieved, but his attitude soon changed when the other man added:

"... she's a woman".

Sam shivered, his guts twitched, his sixth sense was telling him that if Victor had specified such a trifle it meant that in reality it was not at all, but it was a fundamental detail.

"... Do you believe that ...?"

Sully nodded.

"Fuck ..." Sam murmured bringing a hand to his face while he squeezed you with the other.

#sam drake fanfiction #sam drake x reader #sam drake #Samuel Drake #samuel drake fanfiction #samuel drake x reader #Uncharted 4 #uncharted 4 fanfiction #fanfiction #uncharted fanfiction #fanfic

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kunstpause-archive · 4 years

Text

FFXIV Write Prompt #24 - Beam

He watched her pace through her room, lost in thought as she wrung her hands at each sharp turn she made. It was neither particularly interesting nor very entertaining and yet he lingered, strangely engrossed in observing the unease with which she carried herself regardless.

Emet-Selch was used to observing things from the shadows. While he had taken the stage every now and then to interfere more directly with events, he had spent more time than not watching, planing, and lying in wait. It had become second nature over the eons. What he wasn’t used to, was being caught.

“I swear if you don’t stop this invisible hovering this instant…” Cassia’s voice was sharp as she spoke loudly into the room.”

He couldn’t banish the look of surprise on his face as he became visible instantly. “One day you are going to tell me how you are doing this, my dear.” To his relief, he had at least managed to put his usual veneer of casual smugness back on.

Cassia only huffed at him. “I have no idea, what you are talking about but this is not the time for your cryptic nonsense!”

Emet-Selch’s eyebrows rose as he noticed the spark of anger in her eyes. “You are upset with me?” he asked, with a raised brow. “And here I assumed you simply wanted a repeat performance, perhaps to return the favor?”

“Favor?” Cassia narrowed her eyes. “You’re damn right I am upset with you! I tried to talk to Urianger earlier and you know what happened? He straight up ignored me. Simply went the other way and pretended he didn’t see me there at all...” Her voice lost some of its sharpness as her eyes filled up with sorrow. “He never ignores me! He is my closest friend outside of family and now…” By now every trace of anger had completely evaporated, leaving behind a lost look on her face that felt strangely uncomfortable. “Why did you have to meddle?” Cassia finally asked in a quiet voice. “We were fine before. Why did you have to mess with that?”

Emet-Selch let out a dismissive scoff. “Fine? You were not fine before,” he huffed. “And I did no such thing. At least not on my own. As I recall, you both were active and quite enthusiastic participants.” He wouldn’t deny that he had indeed probed and prodded and nudged situations to his means, but he refused to be held solely responsible. “I have forced nothing that was not freely given.”

In front of him, Cassia’s shoulders sank ever so slightly as a stricken look appeared on her face. “You are right,” she admitted with a sigh. “I let myself be drawn in by you but I did that out of my own volition.”

“Drawn in?” Emet’s eyebrows rose as he gave her a scathing look. “I also recall that you put my hand between your legs and straight up told me to ‘get to it’. I didn’t have to draw you into anything. Certainly not into that little performance on your knees after.”

He didn’t imagine the flush that crept up her cheeks at his words. Her hands smoothed over her dress, straightening it absentmindedly in already tidy places as she visibly fought down her blush. “Fair point,” she mumbled, not meeting his eyes for a moment before she found her composure again. “But you didn’t answer my other question. Why did you interfere in the first place?”

“There was nothing better to do around here,” Emet said dismissively. “I was bored.” The answer was as glib as it was pre-rehearsed. He had learned long ago just how to go on projecting the perfect mixture of dismissal and infuriating arrogance. Citing boredom for every one of his whims - while often correct - served perfectly to anger whomever he was explaining himself to. His reasoning often so insulting in its lack of respect it caused a strong enough reaction in most people to not even question it. He was starting to think that Cassia was certainly not most people.

“Liar,” she said simply and something in her eyes shone with unveiled interest as she took a step closer to him.

“Excuse me?” he asked, momentarily thrown by her reaction but it did not seem to deter her. She only came to a halt when she was but ilms away from him, giving him a curious look.

“You just lied to me,” she said, her small smile not fitting the words leaving her lips at all. “For the first time since we met, you actually lied.”

She sounded so incredibly sure of herself Emet-Selch didn’t quite know what to do with it, and for a moment he just stared at her.

“You have no idea how my echo works, do you?” Cassia asked when it became clear he wasn’t going to answer. A small chuckle rose up her throat. “Let me enlighten you,” she added. “Ever since the echo awoke in me it did exactly two things. One is the occasional, unpredictable vision of someone’s past.” She looked him directly in the eyes, a serene smile on her lips. “The other is, that I can tell when someone is lying to me.”

Emet’s eyes widened slightly. He did not doubt her claim. The echo certainly had the possibility of granting her that favor, and from the beginning, he had sensed its hum particularly strongly in her.

“You know, for the longest time I thought it didn’t work on you Ascians, actually,” Cassia went on to explain. “Because I never sensed anything from you. Nor did I sense any untruths that time I met Elidibus years ago. I thought you were perhaps simply immune but…” She laughed quietly, shaking her head in disbelief. “You simply didn’t actually lie to me before,” Cassia said with a beaming smile. “Everything you told us so far has been nothing but the truth…”

Emet forced himself to stop staring at her, rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh that was louder than necessary for dramatic effect alone. “Of course I told you the truth, why wouldn’t I? I had no reason to lie to you or your friends about any of it.”

“So what changed?” Cassia’s simple question took the wind out of his theatrics. “Why did you approach both him and me in this way? What could you possibly gain from that?”

“Nothing,” was the only thing he could answer and he could see in Cassia’s eyes that she knew he wasn’t lying this time. But it only seemed to confuse her again.

“Then why?” she asked again, leaning closer into his space, a pleading look in her eyes. “Tell me!” When he didn’t answer she reached out, her hand gently brushing over the side of his face. “Please, Emet-Selch, I need to know!”

He had to close his eyes for a moment. A wave of nostalgia crashed over him at the way his name, his title, rolled off her tongue. The inflection in her voice was so achingly familiar it tore at long-forgotten thoughts of home. A longing buried under the heavy weight of millennia filled with death and disappointment.

He could not lie to her, and yet the truth seemed fat too terrifying to even entertain it in the confinements of his own mind. Without thought he reached out, his hand in her neck, drawing her closer as he indulged in what he had denied himself so fiercely before when she had been pliant in his arms and kissed her.

#FFxivWrite2020 #FFxivWrite #ffxiv #emet-selch x wol #oc: cassia hawke #Kunstpause writes stuff

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split-n-splice · 4 years

Photo

Just uhh…just a girl tryna be normal... Things will get serious soon, dontchu worry~

[Chapter Guide | FFn | Ao3]

39. Whose Side – 2

Come Monday morning, Shilo found herself staring out from between the blinds of her kitchen window. Eyes narrowed in suspicion, she watched for several long minutes, anticipating a jeep to pull up and searching for the faintest trace of an invisible woman, like footsteps appearing in the frosty lawn.

Her eyes stung. She’d had a rough night of tossing and turning, an uproar of thoughts plaguing her all thanks to the oasis’s potential new residents. A fiery punch of frustration to a pillow last night had only accomplished a mess of stuffing, but it had been worth it at the time to imagine the pillow was one of her least favorite people she was pummeling. If she saw her now, she might just spit acid – plasma, actually – in her face.

Shilo was expecting Drakken’s van to come sputtering out of the dark any moment now. He’d offered her a ride to Buckley’s, despite the change of plans now that he didn’t need a bodyguard to protect him from the paranormal. As the minutes passed, she began to consider hoofing it and forgetting about catching a ride, and tried not to consider the possibility something terrible had happened to him in the night.

Donning a jacket and stepping out into the chill, she muttered reassuringly to herself, “He must’ve slept in.” She hoped that was all anyway.

Before she reached the end of the block, the early-morning peace was broken by the familiar chugging of a van on its last leg. Her lips quirked up at the corners, but she forced them into a straight line as she turned to face the van idling beside her.

The amount of white Drakken wore today was startling, and she studied him with a raised eyebrow as she buckled in. A genuine lab coat she’d never seen before hung rumpled and loose all around him, a pair of goggles worn around his neck. The getup was complete with elbow-length rubber gloves. He was wide-eyed and wired, through certain features of his face screamed tired.

“Dude, did you even sleep last night?” she remarked. What did she care for?

“Uhm…” His eyes darted to her and away, and he tried to flash a smile. “No. Not at all,” he answered shamelessly, and was quick to defend himself when she let out a sound of disapproval along with her eye roll. “Oh, don’t give me that. You wanted me to do something productive!”

“Well, what is it?” she goaded.

He shut his trap for a moment and stroked his chin thoughtfully before giving a tiny halfhearted shrug. “I’m not sure yet, but the flowers smell nice.”

“Flowers?” She couldn’t begin to fathom what he was doing with flowers. Well, one idea did come to her, a thought along the line of bouquets, but it stirred an unwelcome flutter in her belly along with it, so she rejected the notion and crossed her arms.

“Orchids,” Drakken clarified. “I’d offer you one, but they’re too difficult to cultivate to just hand out willy-nilly.”

Well, now she wished he did have flowers for her – but she stamped that stubborn thought back as well.

She kept her trap shut the rest of the ride to Buckley’s. Before she could free herself of the stuffy confines of the van, Drakken cleared his throat. “Um. Are you—? Should I—?” he sputtered anxiously before gulping and managing a complete sentence. “If you wish to hide out at the lair this evening, speak now.”

She almost dismissed the offer, but second thoughts crept up on her before she could open her mouth. Every day she didn’t hitch a ride with him was a day she risked being roped into some scheme with Buckley’s girls. “Sure. Don’t be late,” she accepted with a bit more venom than intended. “Smell ya later, Doc.”

Drakken grunted indignantly as she hopped out. “I smell wonderful, thank you very much,” he shot back.

“Pickles and flowers are not the aroma of evil,” she reminded with a wry smirk.

To which Drakken only childishly stuck his tongue out at her, and he hit the gas practically before she could slam the passenger door shut.

When she turned around, she almost regretted the exchange. If only fleeting embarrassment was the worst of it. Leaned beside the door of Buckley’s Brew was the last face she wanted to see today – and the nuisance had made the conscious decision to show it. Arms crossed and pink as ever, Priscilla wore a smug smile Shilo wanted nothing more than to punch off her face.

“You stayed with him last night, didn’t cha?” she guessed, sounding so sure of herself as if she knew everything.

Shilo was glad she had the high ground of knowing she was wrong. “Grow up,” she scoffed, determined to keep her cool. Even if she had stayed at the lair, she had her own room – but did Priscilla know that? Priscilla didn’t need to know, she decided. Priscilla didn’t need to know anything . “How did you know I’d be here?”

“Your baby brothers,” she chimed, still all but barring the way in. “Those little bigmouths told me all about how you promised to send them candy from here.” She jabbed her thumb to the storefront’s sign.

Keeping her cool was a necessity now. “I don’t want you ever going near my boys again,” she hissed as she shoved Prissy aside.

“Whatever, mom.” Priscilla stuffed her hands in her pockets and began sauntering away down the sidewalk.

Shilo was frozen in place at the door, watching the girl until she’d rounded the corner. She didn’t trust her to have left that easy, but as she began her shift at Buckley’s, counting on each jingle of the bell to announce Priscilla’s return, she let an inkling of hope shine through that the nuisance had truly left to do something useful with her time – like maybe hitting the road to head back to Go City.

Shortly before the noon rush, a short curly-haired brunette came ambling in, slinging her backpack to the floor beneath the table in the corner. Within moments, Gail had a secretly-decaf to push across the counter toward her. “Did you pull it off?” she asked the girl.

“Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t,” chirped the teenager before taking a big satisfying gulp of her coffee.

Shilo looked between the snickering girls. “Alright, what did I miss?” she sighed.

“Jenny pranked her PE teacher,” said Gail.

“Got him good!” chortled Jenny. “The creep totally deserved it.”

“What—?”

“I replaced his eye drops with hot sauce. He didn’t see it coming.”

Gail erupted with a hearty laugh, egging her on, “And then?”

“Pulled the fire alarm,” said Jenny proudly. She slapped a knee and laughed like a genuine jackass. Small as she was, it wasn’t hard to see the Buckley family resemblance.

Shilo was inclined to grimace at the two girls who found the not-so-harmless prank hilarious, but reminded herself of a pep talk she’d overheard Chester give Jenny last week about the perverted teacher who’d looked up Chester’s skirt last year. That same teacher had taken a shine to Jenny as well this year now that she was a senior going on eighteen.

When the laughter died down, Shilo was invited to join them in mugging the blinded creep when he came back from the hospital – as a group, for a little miscreant team bonding – but she’d declined with the excuse her villain boss was waiting on her.

After several minutes of waiting out back though, Gail popped out to light up and wonder where that villain boss of her was. She didn’t want to admit he was a no-show, so she shoved off from the wall and began walking. For a block or two, she tried not to walk too fast, but it became clear the man wasn’t just running late. She groaned to herself, considering breaking out the nifty new mobile phone he’d given her, but decided not to bother.

A soak in the tub and touching up her manicure was a better use of her afternoon than waiting around for him anyway.

She still jumped up when the phone rang and rushed to it a little too hastily. She opened her mouth, ready to chew Drakken out for leaving her hanging, but the words fell short when a different voice met her ear.

“Hey! Is this Shilo?” blurted the overeager caller before she could utter a word.

“I – yeah?” she muttered in reflex. The voice was familiar, but at the same time it wasn’t. She knew she’d know it if she heard it in person and not over the telephone. Before she could ask the obvious – who is this? – the boy chuckled.

“It’s Tom,” he said blithely, and she relaxed and tensed simultaneously. Just Tom. Good old average-boy Tom. Unfortunately the same Tom she’d given her number to last Friday but couldn’t clearly recall if she’d agreed to a second date with. She hadn’t, had she?

She wound her finger around the cord, knowing exactly why the night had gotten hazy after the shoddy karaoke performance – but the spark of plasma at the rekindled fire in her blood had her holding the telephone with her shoulder so she could shake the heat from her hands.

Whether she’d explicitly agreed to a second or not, Thomas Thompson was bold in asking to meet her at the 24-Seven. She agreed with an awkward, “Uh, sure,” before she had the slightest clue what she was agreeing to. She chastised herself as she hurried to lace up her sneakers to meet him in ten.

She decided, upon seeing him dismount from his tacky moped, that maybe she didn’t need an alibi that badly after all. But then he flashed pearly whites and shook his windswept golden hair back into place and that doubt flew out the window. She could even forgive him for keeping her waiting again.

Drawing a breath to steel herself, she gave a small wave and a strained smile. Tom was a nice enough boy, she told herself as he tripped on the curb in his hurry to get the door for her. The five minutes or so he spent debating which brand of diet soda pop to pick was tolerable, even if he was still hem-hawing over the selection by the time she’d paid for her Freezee and took her first sip. She barely suppressed a groan when he gave up diet sugar-free bottled disappointment in favor of regular grape soda.

Even if she’d let herself, she wouldn’t have been able to open her mouth to comment on the angel boy’s indecision before the bell above the door jingled, followed by the clamor of boisterous girls. The voices were regrettably recognizable, and she couldn’t help cringing and turning her back pointedly to them.

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t the black sheep!” came the bubbly call of Priscilla, and Shilo knew without turning that she was the black sheep in question.

“You know her?” wondered Gail, a frequent shoplifter at this particular 24-Seven. She’d yet to be caught, even after a daring stickup Shilo herself had been involved in. Today Abigail’s interest was in a candy dispenser behind Shilo, as she shouldered her out of the way to take advantage of the malfunctioning machine that gave extra handfuls of chocolate with just the right sleight of hand.

Priscilla was pressing in too close, all but cornering Shilo. She took quick inventory of available exits – but the aisles were narrow and Mickey, Prissy, and Gail blocked the direct route to the door while Tom stood dumbfounded behind her – she just as quickly decided that leaping over the shelving to make an escape would be excessive if not jumping the gun, so she swallowed bile and swatted Priscilla’s hand away as the girl reached out to run her fingers through her hair.

“Bleach it blonde already, Shi,” advised Prissy with a sickly-sweet voice. “Then no one will be able to tell you’re going gray.”

Shilo couldn’t help smoothing her hair back in reflex, shooting daggers at Priss. Even if she did have grays – which she didn’t – blonde just wasn’t happening. Even if she did stand out like the black sheep among the crowd of blondes.

“Oh, fuck off already,” she spat, and the tiny shocked gasp behind her reminded her of Thomas Thompson and his virtuous mouth. She grit her teeth and tried not to roll her eyes.

Priscilla took no offence. “I’ve missed you too,” she shot back and plucked a soda from the shelf as she turned to beam back at Gail loading her pockets with candy. “I like it here already. Some fine dudes in this town.”

“Yeah, if that’s what you’re into,” grunted Gail around a mouthful of chocolate.

Shilo didn’t miss the cagey glance she shot up toward Mickey, who was bashfully quiet as he loomed behind Priscilla. “How much can you bench?” Gail asked the young man with a note of genuine curiosity. Shilo had to wonder how long it would take Gail to try swaying Mickey into henchwork to score brownie points with Buckley, and had to believe Mickey was above it.

She took her chance to spin around, nearly running directly into Thomas in her haste to escape the aisle while the girls chattered about Mickey Goldsmith’s physique as though he weren’t even there. She didn’t mean to stop at the door and shoot Mickey a sympathetic glance as Priscilla sarcastically called him a trophy and stood on up her toes to pinch his cheek – which he rubbed at the second Priss looked away. Shilo inwardly commended him for taking the teasing in stride.

Thomas pausing to pay for his soda and delay her escape was almost enough to make her leave without him. She’d barely taken two steps away from the 24-Seven when he mounted his moped and called over expectantly, “Alright, hop on.”

She paused and stared with curled lip at the scooter. The jeep parked on the other side was what convinced her to step back toward him, if only because it was sure to make a quicker getaway.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his bright smile faltering. “It doesn’t go very fast.”

Speed was not her biggest concern, but he didn’t need to know about the glitter of plasma coating her palms like sweat at the mere idea of sitting so close. She rubbed her free palm on her pant leg as she cautiously came to stand beside the scooter. A glance up to the storefront, and she could see Priscilla noticing she’d slipped away. She swallowed the fire swelling up in her chest and swung her leg over what sufficed as a back seat as Priss made for the exit after her.

Tom suggested she hold onto him – she opted not to – and away they went. He didn’t seem super eager to meet her friends. Ex-friends. Associates. Whatever they were.

“Um, where are we going?” she wondered awkwardly as she clutched her quickly-melting Freezee between both hands. She focused on the murky turbulent water as they crossed the bridge rather than the boy’s back or the delicate gold chain around his neck.

“The park,” he answered simply. With the merry way he said it, she would expect the sort of park one sits down to on a warm sunny day for a picnic in the shade. But the sky now was overcast again, and soon it would be dark. They might even be in for some rain. “The lake is nicer, but they’re here too.”

“Who’s here?”

“You’ll see,” he said, and she didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling.

If she were back home in Go City, a spellbinding boy suckering her into taking a ride with him and promising to take her to meet some mysterious group would be extremely suspicious. Back in Go City, it was hard to take anyone at face value when no less than a dozen villains and lowlifes wanted her and her ilk dead.

Good thing she wasn’t in Go City anymore.

Shilo took a deep steadying breath and gave her palm a long moment of consideration before letting it rest on the boy’s shoulder. She wished it didn’t take so much concentration to stay mindful enough to not burn him, and the smile on her face didn’t feel like it belonged there. Tom knew she came from Go City. Thanks to her brothers, he knew she was Shego in a past life – he didn’t have to know she was still Shego with a different occupation – but at least that meant he knew she was a fire hazard. If he wanted to take the risk, so be it. He could burn in hell, for all she cared.

Before she knew it, Tom had pulled up to a curb and cut the engine.

As it turned out, here was the riverfront park and they were ducks. Still, it took the young man dashing after them wielding a loaf of stale bread from the day-old bakery outlet to realize what they were there for.

When she wondered aloud why he didn’t buy the good stuff – his family seemed well-off enough – he shrugged and gave her some story about how he and his righteous die-hard folks would buy up discount bread and road trip to the big city once or twice a month to hand out sandwiches to those in need. Overly proud of himself for his charity, he beamed and invited her to join them on the next trip. She feigned a smile and said she’d have to check her calendar.

She didn’t tell him so, but Shego had put her life on the line more times than she could count for countless thankless civilians – therefore she wasn’t about to waste a perfectly good weekend handing out sandwiches. She’d done more than her fair share. Yet the boy’s pretty smile was almost enough to change her mind.

A date consisting of sitting on a soggy bench and tossing pinches of bread for noisy waterfowl while a motormouth went off in her ear wasn’t her idea of romantic, but each glance his way sent a sickening stirring through her that nearly set her ablaze. The least romantic date imaginable, she decided, was probably for the best.

Sparingly few words slipped past her zipped lips while the boy pried ever so gently about things that didn’t matter, like when she’d last gone to the park to feed the ducks, what was the ocean like, how she was settling in at the little desert oasis, if she’d made many friends yet.

The answers didn’t come easily. Her throat tightened up, thinking of the last time she’d gone out to intentionally feed the birds, her baby brothers in tow to throw fries at flocks of screaming seagulls. Describing the warm salty breeze and sand between her toes induced a bout of homesickness. As for friends and settling in, she had to clam up. Buckley’s girls could hardly be considered friends, she could tell him that much – but she’d already lied about knowing the one friend in the oasis she did have.

“What about those girls at the convenience store?” wondered Tom with a tilt to his head better suited for a puppy. She could at least kiss and coo at a puppy and tell it how dimwitted it was without it taking offence.

Her face flushed hotter than ever at the thought of getting quite that close to try it on him anyway, and to be on the safe side she scooted ever so slightly further away toward the end of the bench. “Just people I know from Buckley’s Brew,” she muttered. It was a good enough excuse.

“Ah,” he said with an almost sad nod of understanding. The overcast on his face cleared suddenly and he was beaming brightly at her again. “If you swing by the church out on Lavender Avenue this Sunday, I can introduce you to some of mine. Or I could pick you up,” he offered hopefully.

If it weren’t for the pink appearing in her peripheral on her other side, she might have laughed in reflex and asked him if he was joking. But instead, the beginnings of an incredulous smile fell as she turned a sharp glare away from Tom, locking her gaze on Priscilla who’d come to stand so close that Shilo could almost choke on her overwhelming fruity body spray.

Fragrant as she was, Priscilla wasn’t her usual bubbly self at the moment. “You know bread is bad for them, right?” she informed in an unusually somber tone. Tom stopped himself from tossing another slice of white bread to the swarm of ravenous fowl, but before he could question the young woman, the birds had inhaled the last of the crumbs and begun to close in on Prissy. She curled her lip and kicked out at the nearest one before jumping back. “Nevermind,” she spat. “Give ‘em the whole damn bag.”

Putting on a fake smile like her makeup in the morning, Priscilla’s bubbliness was forced as she plopped down at the end of the bench, too close and warm against Shilo’s side, all but forcing her to scoot closer to Tom. Priss reached over her, extending a hand toward him. “Nice to meet you,” she said, feigned friendliness enough to fool almost anyone. “So you’re Shi’s new boyfriend, huh?”

Shilo squeezed her heated hands between her knees to hide the sparks of plasma.

“I’m not sure about boyfriend,” chuckled Tom with a nervous smile. “But it’s nice to meet you too, uhm…?”

“Priscilla.”

“Tom.”

Stuck between them as they shook hands in greeting in front of her, Shilo rolled her eyes. “I should get going,” she said, shoving their arms away a little too roughly so she could stand up.

“I’ll give you a ride,” piped Tom. She had the sense he was proud of his scooter. She’d be more impressed if it was a souped up hotrod.

“Actually, I—”

A hand caught her wrist. “Hey! You could come help me unpack,” suggested Priscilla, practically using Shilo to pull herself up from the bench. “We can order a pizza and do each other’s hair and nails like we used to. How ’bout it?”

Tom’s raised brow and glance between them was all Shilo needed to know she’d been caught in a white lie. She weighed her options – decline Prissy’s invitation and go with Tom, or snub them both.

Priscilla tugged at her while Thomas took a step back.

“I’ll let you two catch up,” said Tom, though it sounded like an offer to let her go. How generous. The angelic boy was too amicable for his own good.

A glance toward him and his moped parked at the curb a little ways off, and Shilo made her decision. Linking arms with Priscilla and giving her a jerk she hoped hurt her shoulder, she took a big step away from Tom and forced a smile onto her face. “I’ll see you around,” she said as warmly as she could manage, though she wanted nothing more than to sock Priscilla in the nose and call it a day. “Guess I gotta help Priss. She can’t lift more than ten pounds. She has scoliosis.” It was a half-truth. While Priscilla did have a mild case and would never win any medals for weightlifting for unrelated reasons, she wasn’t that feeble.

The dig wasn’t deep, but it was enough to earn a displeased grunt from Prissy. “Nice to meet you, Tom!” Priscilla called back sweetly with far too much sugar heaped on. “Maybe we can all hang out sometime.”

Shilo was getting closer to plasma-blasting the girl regardless of Tom for a witness to the violence. “Not if you value your face,” she quietly hissed through her teeth.

Thomas Thompson waved and called a pleasant enough, “Goodbye!” to them as Shilo tugged Priscilla away to the far end of the park, not particularly caring where she had left the old jeep.

Priscilla took the opportunity to bump her hip into Shilo’s and flash her a wry grin. “He’s cute,” she noted. “Your boyfriend know you’re two-timing?”

Shilo grimaced down at the woman now clinging to her arm, despite her effort to shake her off. “I am not,” she defended with sparingly few words. She didn’t need to defend herself. She didn’t need to give Priscilla the time of day.

“So!” said Priss, changing the subject. “I ran into your work buddy when I was checking out a place, and we got to talking, and thought we could make a date of all going out and doing some donuts—”

Shilo reached for her temple and the souvenir left behind from the last time, little more than a week ago now. “Pass,” she answered before Prissy could finish.

“You can’t avoid me forever,” retorted the persistent young woman tugging her arm as she took the lead. She had a lot of nerve for someone who’d done just that for years.

“Yeah?” spat Shilo, and in a swift motion that caught Prissy by surprise, she raised a foot and kicked her in the side, dislodging her and knocking her to the muddy grass in doing so. “Watch me!”

Throughout middle school she’d been teased for having longer legs of the two, though most of that teasing had come from Priscilla herself, who never once outran Shilo in their years on track together. She didn’t let that go to her head now though as she bolted across the park, her sneakers clapping down on the sidewalk bordering the far side. Dashing through traffic and into the suburbs, she didn’t dare slow or even glance back until the streets became familiar again.

Gulping for air, Shilo inwardly chastised herself for not keeping up on her old training regimen since dropping out the team, and especially since coming to the oasis. She made a mental note to take advantage of the gym back at the lair, which she realized after some time that she was making a beeline for.

She was skulking down the unmaintained road that promised to take her out of town, hands in her pockets as she scowled at the fogline and stewed over the tedious date Priscilla, a blessing in disguise, had crashed, when an all-too-familiar engine came chugging up behind her.

Headlights washing over her, her sore feet came to a pause and she stuck out a thumb without looking back to be certain. As expected, the old white utility van rolled to a stop beside her, breaks squealing.

“Fancy meeting you here,” quipped Drakken as she climbed in.

“Get bent,” she hissed in lieu of a hello before she could think twice. She was apt to blame him, even if she knew it wasn’t fair. He’d failed to pick her up on time, and that had left her vulnerable to Priscilla. One heated glance his way and she wished she’d bit her tongue. He looked better rested now – not well rested, but rested nonetheless – and he must have taken the time to shower and groom himself, because his hair was clean and tied back and he didn’t smell so strongly of dill and flowers anymore. It was hard to fault him for taking care of himself.

Shego couldn’t help noticing the mild sting of runaway embers in her palms then, and she rubbed the tingle from her arms as she turned her glare to the windshield just as the onset of a sprinkle began to speckle the glass with droplets. She was more than ready to call it a day.

#Drakgo #Drakken #Shego #Dr. Drakken #Kim Possible #The Company You Keep fic

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daphner20 · 4 years

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Justice Browne

Restoration

Prologue

My name is Justice Fritzgerald Browne, and ' Truly God is good to me!” My father wanted to name me John Fritzgerald, but my mom said , “ not a day like it!”

I met the love of my life Alicia Leah (nee Dean) at a Catholic Retreat for young adults called T.E.C ( To Encounter Christ), 25 years ago. She was 19, and I was 24. We were married 6 months later. And that union has blessed us with two sons. Joshua, 20 and Jamie 18.

Joshua is a Senior at Notre Dame University, he is a bio/chemistry major, his next step is med school. Jamie is a sophomore, at Notre Dame as well, but they are on different campuses. Jamie is studying accounting. Both of my sons, graduated from High School at 16.

I am so proud of my sons, they are truly one of the joys of my life.

Almighty God, has also prospered the work of my hands. I am one of the largest grocers in The Bahamas. With 4 grocery stores in Nassau, 2 in Grand Bahama, and 1 in Abaco. I own substantial shares in a local bank and insurance company.

I am also on the Economic Council for The Bahamas. I am also the past president of the Chamber of Commerce.

When I was in CCD, as a child, I remembered Sister Cecilia, teaching us the 10 commandments, the sermon on the mount, and corporal acts of mercy. I have spent my entire life, living as closely as possible to these teachings.

My parents, were the greatest in the world. I was the product of their old age. They were married for 18 years, before I came along. My mom was forty, and my dad was 47. My mom told me that she had never stop trusting and believing that God, will bless her womb. She lived to cradle my sons in her arms. She died 10 years ago, and Daddy followed 2 years later.

As, I lit a candle after mass. I am thankful and grateful to the Lord, who has bless my family, my work, my health, and my faith all these years. I also lit a special candle for my boys, just in case they didn’t go to mass this morning, and asked God to forgive their sins.

Chapter 1

“ So you don’t have any classes today,” said Justice

“ No, they are cancel until further,” said Jaime.

“ I suggest, you go and stay with Joshua,' said Justice.

“Daddy,” said Jaime, “it’s just a tropical storm!”

“ Jamie, tropical storms can be dangerous as well,” said Justice.

“ The school has taken all precautions, we will be fine. Further more, Josh, campus is on lockdown as well,” said Jaime.

“Ok,' said Justice, reluctantly, he knew how strong will Jamie is.

'Love you Daddy,” said Jamie, laughingly, he knew his father normally gives in.

“ Love you kiddo, said Justice. ‘Youth’ muttered Justice, they think they are invincible.

5 minutes later.

“ Hello Josh” said Justice.

“ Hi Pops” said Josh animatedly.

“ I heard, about the storm, are you taking precautions.

“ Yes sir, we will be fine, you are aware, that we have been through storms before said Joshua.

“ I know, said Justice, “but it has always been with me and your mother.”

“ We will be fine, I will check on Jamie every day, don’t worry.”

“ I love you Joshua, you are a good son and great brother,” said Justice, holding back tears.

“I love you too Pops,” said Joshua, smiling, “ and turn of the water works, your too old for that.”

As Justice, hung up the phone, he realized, that he wasn’t trusting God to protect his sons.

A few days later, the weather channel, said the storm had been upgraded to a category 3. It will bring lots of rain and high gusty winds.

“I will go by church, this evening to light a candle for my boys,” said Justice in his heart.

When I got home, it was late breaking news on all the stations, that Hurricane David, had come ashore as a Category 5, and there were wide devastation.

“ Have you heard from the boys today,” I asked Alicia.

“ I spoke to them, yesterday, but they told me, that the power company was shutting down the power. They said they will call me, as soon as the power comes back on.

It’s been two days now, and still no communication from our sons. I told Alicia, that I was going to North Carolina tomorrow.

Finally, the phone rang, it was Jaime's number.

“ Jaime, thank God, son how are you? Shouted Justice.

“ This is Dr. Matthew, from Raleigh General, is this Mr. Browne? We regret to inform you that your son, Jaime Browne died two days ago. We finally charged his cellphone, and we found your number. Also, we regret to inform you that your other son Joshua Browne died this morning.

Chapter 2

“The Lord giveth, and the Lord take it away, blessed be the name of the Lord,” said Justice.

It was a bright and sunny morning, three weeks later, when I buried my boys. How could a day be so beautiful, when my children will never see it again! It’s like the world is mocking me. I am numb, I am on autopilot. I am doing everything that needs to be done, without any emotions.

I flew to North Carolina, to officially identify the boys. I had to make arrangements, to bring them home. I had to pick out the coffins. I had to decide their burial clothes. I had to choose the photos and songs for the obituary. My boys were altar boys and a part of the youth group, so every body wanted to play a role in the funeral service. There were such an outpouring of sympathy, I had to make sure they were acknowledged. Instead of two individual plots, I chose one. Joshua at the bottom, and Jaime on top.

Because, they were inseparable, growing up, they were together when they died. Joshua roommate told us, that when the storm got upgraded, Joshua decided to go and stay with Jaime. However, the storm had produced several tornadoes, and one of them had flatten Jaime’s dormitory. Jamie, the coroner believed died instantly, and Joshua died three days later.

Alicia grief is inconsolable, she is heavily medicated, I don’t know what to do. I just have to be strong, for her and my sons. My head says there are gone, my heart says they are here, and there is no reconciliation. As an accountant, this should be easy.

Just as the sun rises each morning, I must do the same. Everyone is remarking on my strength. I told them, it’s not me, but the Lord. His strength is made perfect in my weakness.

A month later, I returned to work full time, Alicia is turning the corner, she is off the sedatives. She is still profoundly sad, but that is to be expected, and she has me.

“ Mr. Browne, here are the papers, you wanted,” said Sheila my secretary.

“ Mr. Browne, Mr. Browne,” Sheila is frantic now. The last thing I heard her screaming was Call an ambulance!!

Chapter 3

Two weeks later, I woke up in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU)

I had suffered a massive stroke, I was totally paralyzed on my left side The doctors told Alicia, that my recovery will be long. Not only will I need a physical therapist, but a speech therapist as well. Another, prognosis, was that I may never fully recovered, and be a shell of a man. All of my physicians were in agreement with that!

Alicia, brought me home three weeks later. The house was completely transformed. There were ramps for my wheelchair. My study, became my hospital room. Because, I couldn’t swallow on my own, I had a drip in my arm, I was also feed intravenously, I also had to use a catheter. My care also included 3 private nurses on shifts.

Alicia had spared no expense.

My first visitor, was my oldest and dearest friend Greg Henfield, he was also my boys godfather.

“ I am sorry Justice, first the boys, now this, I have known you all my life, I can’t believe this is happening to you, you were a Saint living amongst us! What did you do, to make God so angry,” he said.

Thank God, I couldn’t speak or move, I would have kicked him out.

Next, visitor, was my lawyer, Charles Powell, “ I think you should sell your business, seeing that you have no longer have heirs, and you and Alicia can live a comfortable life, with the proceeds,”he said.

Blood in the water, thought Justice, the sharks are circling.

Finally, my father-in-law, Wilfred Dean, came. I loved him like a father. “ My daughter, can’t take anymore, first her children, now you, this is to much for her. I told her to sell your businesses and shares, and put you in a nursing home and take care of herself,” he said.

“What about our vows?” I wanted to scream, “ for better or worse, sickness and in health.”

Alicia, took his advice, she sold everything, but she didn’t leave me.

Laying in that bed day in and out, with only my thoughts. Why God, I am a good person, you took my boys, my health, my work, my friends and family. Why me?

I wish I never was born, I wish I was like a stillborn child, who never saw light. Why did you bless and then take away. I pour out my complaint and bitterness day unto day.

Until one day, The Lord Spoke!

Chapter 4

“ Who is this who darkens counsel by words without knowledge?

“ Now prepare yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer Me.“ Where were you, when I laid the foundations of the earth? Who determined it’s measurements? Surely you know!

Then Justice answered ,” I know that you can do everything, and that no purpose of Yours can be withheld from you. I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eyes see You, therefore I despise myself, and I repent in dust and ashes.

Justice didn’t realized, that he was speaking. He had gotten, his speech back. Praise the Lord.

Over, the next few months, with the help of his therapists, he regained the strength and the mobilty of his limbs. Justice Fritzgerald Browne made a full recovery and discovery.

“ Though He slay me, yet I will trust Him!” Justice said.

Alicia, had kept the life insurance benefits of the boys. With that money, he was able to purchase 10 grocery stores. And the a year later, Alicia gave birth to twin girls, Hannah, and Annah. Double grace and favor!

Justice, lived to see his children’s children.

And God bless Justice's latter, greater than his former!

The End

“

#spiritual #god #faith #hope #story #religion

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jswdmb1 · 4 years

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24 Frames

“You thought God was an architect, now you know

He's something like a pipe bomb ready to blow

And everything you built that's all for show

goes up in flames - in twenty- four frames”

- Jason Isbell

This may come as a shock, especially to those who know me well, but I can be very stubborn. Sometimes this can work into my favor as it helps bolster confidence when I take a difficult position that I know is right, or it can help me persist when odds are long such as starting a new business. But this often is a character trait that I know can hold me back. In particular, I bristle at things I am told that I “should” do even when it clearly would be in my best interest to do whatever is being suggested. It usually takes someone equally stubborn to get me to move off of my position, but this did happen recently.

My wife is always on me to watch various different television programs, but I always balk. I watch some TV but is it well documented (on this blog) that it is pretty much limited to PBS and reruns of old game shows and sitcoms. I don’t like to leave that comfort zone, and it takes a lot for me to try out a new show – especially one that is episodic that expects you to come back week-after-week. I know that means I miss out on a lot of good stuff, but I’m okay with that as it allows me to keep my time on the tube under control and I don’t get more involved with something than I really want to be. But on this one particular show, she was quite persistent, and I was challenged to at least give it a try.

The show is Schitt’s Creek, and I am sure you have heard of it if you do not already know it well. If you haven’t seen it, do not worry, as I will not be disclosing too much about the program. Even if you have heard a lot about it and feel you know the story, part of the charm of the show is watching the characters develop throughout the series, so plot turns and the such are not as important as in some other episodic series. The basic plot is that an extremely wealthy family of four, including two adult children, are forced to move to a small town when they lose everything overnight due to a business manager not paying taxes. The series starts with the scene of revenue agents raiding their mansion as the family frantically collects a few belongings, so no time is spent on their past life. Every moment from the first scene is spent on their life afterwards which involves living somewhere in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of regular folks. It sounds like a typical fish-out-of-water setting (think the second Bob Newhart show for the closest example), and that is certainly mined for plenty of laughs, but it quickly becomes clear that the show is about much more than this.

That is all you are going to get from me about the actual show, because no more details are relevant to the rest of this post. Except that the acting in this show is brilliant and worth watching for that alone. The father and mother are played by Eugene Levy and Catherine O’Hara, both of whom I have been watching for decades in their various film roles and on the hilarious SCTV program. The chemistry between the two is so natural and genuine that you quickly adopt them as Johnny and Moira Rose and forget their 40+ years in show business as other characters. The children played by Levy’s son Dan and Annie Murphy are equally good and get a lot of the laughs as their clear lack of reality in their past lives plays to insane results when applied to the real world of the town of Schitt’s Creek. The supporting cast is not just a bunch of wacky neighbors but add much depth to the show and develop themselves over the course of the series, especially the character of Stevie played by Emily Hampshire. The character of Roland Schitt, played by Chris Elliot, may be the best second banana on television since Cosmo Kramer. Again, none of this gives away much if anything about the show or the various plot arcs, but it should give you extra motivation to watch as talent like this collecting in one place is rare indeed.

And why exactly am I so intent on you watching this show? While the quality of the program and the enjoyment it will provide you is enough reason to dive in, I have discovered a much greater purpose to following the evolving journey of the Roses. Even though the show was created over five years ago, and largely wrapped production on its sixth season before 2020, it has become for me the perfect allegory for the United States right now. Our country is going through the same experience that the Roses went through much of the first two seasons. After the sudden event of COVID-19, we found ourselves much in a place like Schitt’s Creek. Over seven months into this pandemic, we are still stuck in what life was like before and when will it ever return. I do not think this is much of a spoiler alert for anyone who is rational, but how the way things were is never coming back. COVID-19 has wreaked havoc on our society, and we like to blame it for all of our current problems, but it simply laid bare all of our faults and weaknesses almost overnight. We are now no longer able to push those existential problems aside and have to face them head on. Many of us are not up for the challenge and would like something to change things back overnight, but that is not happening. It doesn’t matter if there is a vaccine, or a new president, we have to face that we collectively lived lives that were not grounded in reality and our fates hung delicately in the balance just waiting for something like COVID-19 to come and bring it crashing down. Just like the Roses lost everything in one quick raid, we now find ourselves building our lives all over again in a strange place where we are very uncomfortable.

Now I know that is difficult to hear and very depressing, but here comes the good part. Just because things have changed does not necessarily mean that we can’t grow and develop into something even better than we had before. Obviously, a deadly disease like COVID-19 is not something we ever wanted, and it has brought countless suffering and death to too many people, but it does provide for a starting point to helping us grow beyond some of the shallower lives we lead previously. It may take a lot of tough love, but we will eventually get the virus under control and the big question will be what is next. For me, there needs to be an evolution past wherever we were before this all went down. I think our guide can be the Rose family in Schitt’s Creek. The a-ha moment for me came at the end of season two titled “Happy Anniversary”. I will disclose nothing more about it other than to say it was a transformative episode not only for the Roses, but for my own outlook on things as we move into what will be a very dark winter.

If you are a watcher of the series, some of this may make more sense to you, but I think even you could benefit from another viewing to see if you can apply some of this to your own life as well. I am actually only through Season 3 so far (I know enough about what lies ahead to be able to write this post, but it hasn’t ruined a thing for me), but I am already making plans for starting over to pick up things I missed the first time around. And it is important that you start in the beginning and move through the episodes sequentially. Not so much because you will lose the story, as many of the stories are self-contained within an episode, but because you will miss out on the character development along the way (again, kudos to the actors and actresses in this show who so brilliantly developed these characters). I know this is playing it up quite a bit but trust this one-time reluctant viewer to be assured that your time is going to be well spent.

This many come off as a review, but it really is not. I mean, if I were a reviewer, I would include some of the above in my story (and end with four stars or whatever the highest rating is), but this has become so much more for me. It has served as a life-saving antidote to the poison spewed in traditional media and social media that makes me nauseous on a daily basis. I find myself occasionally daydreaming about a funny scene I saw, or a subtle profound moment in the show, which has replaced some of the constant worry about the pandemic, or economy, or the election, all of which have a life-or-death feeling to them. It has proven to be a rare new tool in my arsenal against anxiety and it will end up being one of my lasting memories of 2020. That is a lot to say for one show about a year as particularly disastrous as this one, but I sincerely believe that.

So, don’t be like me and be stubborn if you haven’t seen this show. As soon as you read my last sentence, get yourself on Netflix and start watching with Season 1, Episode 1. And make sure you don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow because the one negative is that it will be hard to stop once you get started. But I think it is okay right now to binge on something that is finally showing us that there is a way to succeed in life without putting others down or placing selfish pursuits over relationships. So, dig in and enjoy and I promise that I have learned one other thing throughout this experience – keep an open mind. Because when you keep your mind closed, you shut out a world of possibilities, even when that world seems to have none.

Enjoy,

Jim

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mrreindeerface · 4 years

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Character Info for When The Night Comes

I’ll be honest, this got away from me a bit. I am not entirely sure this is coherent and I had to fight myself to not info-dump because I have so many thoughts on these dorks. For @galleywinter who has been patient with my need to scream about this fantastic game

Les Full Name: Alessa Mylona – also answers to Lessa Age: 27 Height: 5’10”

Les is the Hunter General in Lunaris. She’s headstrong, composed, and very much a stickler for the rules. She can be a bit standoffish at first – but is always willing to take the time and listen if someone needs her. She’s been a bit of an overachiever since she was young, which tends to rub off on the people around her whether they want it to or not. She’ll follow the spirit of the law rather than the letter of it – she’s gotten a fair share of citations in her files from going against orders when she felt it wasn’t the right thing to do. She can be very caring when needed, but tries to hold herself apart from people to help with her work.

She was orphaned at a young age, and was too difficult of a child to find a home anywhere until she was taken in by the Hunters. She puts a great deal of effort into appearing the ‘perfect’ Hunter, mostly out of fear she’ll lose the one family she’s ever really known. Although she worked on her own the first few years, she and Wren partnered on a difficult assignment and have been inseparable ever since. At the academy she specialized in Demonology – she fights with a weighted quarterstaff mostly but also has a few smaller silver daggers (just in case).

Les knew of the Piper Meriman before coming to Lunaris, more as the legend of a Hunter than as a real person. It was a bit of an early blow to find out the Enforcers would cast aside someone with that kind of reputation, though it did give her the chance to get being starstruck out of her system (and somewhere Piper couldn’t see her). There’s never been any hesitation on her part with letting Piper take the lead, not only because Piper is a force of nature but because Les likes having a chance to not be in charge of everything. Piper is one of the few people who can get her to shirk responsibility and just have fun.

Wren Full Name: Florian Laurent Age: 26 Height: 5’7”

Wren is the Hunter General’s right hand. They are very quiet, seeming almost shy, but they can be unyielding as steel. They are fiercely loyal to those they care about, almost to the point of absurdity. Although dedicated to their career as a Hunter, they weren’t prepared for volume of bureaucratic nonsense that came with the territory of trying to help people. Wren will flout any rule necessary to do the right thing, at least the right thing by their standards. They’re much more empathetic than their partner, and don’t bother to maintain a distance from the people in their life.

Wren grew up the oldest of three children – their father was forcibly retired as a Hunter due to a spinal injury. Hoping to carry on the family tradition of being a ‘hero,’ they studied and trained until they could be tested. Although never a truly model student, they were still one of the best. They specialized in Weapons and Combat training and spent their first few years in the field honing their tracking skills. They are unparalleled at laying traps and setting ambush locations – usually with some guidance from Les. They prefer to fight from a distance, using ranged weapons and resorting to daggers only when necessary.

They were wholly unprepared for the Lunarian double-threat of Omen and Alkar. Both of them had a unique charm, and proved to be effortlessly entertaining for the needling-inclined Wren. The two of them served as a good distraction and break from the insanity that was the investigation, and Wren was more than happy to play matchmaker in the early stages of their relationship. It can be a bit tricky for them to not get sucked into teaming up with one or the other to get the third, but in reality that’s part of the fun of their relationship.

Les and Wren

They started working together three years before coming to Lunaris after teaming up together on a particularly tricky mission. Wren liked the convenience of having what was essentially a battering ram on their side, while Les appreciated knowing there was someone at her back to help out. Although Hunter teams are not common, and are often split up if called for, the two of them fought tooth and nail to be kept together every time they needed to be transferred.

Not only in sync in battle, the two also work well together off the field. Les is much better suited to maneuvering (read: manipulating) the Enforcers to get what they need whereas Wren has been much better at connecting to the Creatures and getting insider information. Although both have their own way of handling civilians, they ultimately have the same goal: to put on a good face for the organization, despite the recent situation.

Alaric Full Name: Gideon Alaric Fehler Age: 31 Height: 6’2”

Alaric came to Lunaris by chance, as a Hunter on a specialty assignment. Although he holds himself proudly there’s always a mischievous glint in his eyes. He’s a sucker for having a laugh and a round of ales in the tavern, as much as he enjoys the sense of accomplishment that comes with seeing a town that fees safe because of the work the Hunters do. As he operates, to some degree, outside of the standard Hunter/Enforcer system he can come off a bit of a loose cannon, but at the end of the day his interest is protecting the people.

Originally from Thiyrus, Alaric was sent to join the Hunters by his mother who dreamed of having her son grow up to be strong and a protector for their homeland. Although she did get her wish, he always carried a hint of resentment at the pain her choice brought him. Despite this, he dedicated all his time and effort to his training and studies: he specialized in Alchemy and Demonology both. In combat training he favored short swords, enjoying the adrenaline rush that came from being in the middle of a fight and dancing around his opponents.

Alaric fell hard and he fell fast for August – as comically “love at first sight” as can be imagined. He was immediately drawn in by their grace, composure, and the raw depth of power he could sense under their skin. Due to the nature of their work, he originally decided not to act on his feelings as he felt a workplace relationship was not the best idea. The longer their task kept him in Eskria, and by extension in Lunaris, the more he found himself wishing to court them. The delight he felt when his interest was immediately (and intensely) returned was palpable, and the two have been nigh inseparable since.

Poppy Full Name: [Redacted] – Also answers to Pippa, Pips, and Pip (only used by Alaric) Age: 24 Height: 5’1” or 5’2”

Poppy is not a Hunter, but a Witch working under the mantle of Enforcer, though their history with the organization can be considered complicated at best. They hold themselves tightly, observing with sharp eyes rather than interacting with the world around them. There’s a sly humor to them if caught at the right moment – they are guilty of playing small tricks just to get a laugh out of a group of children more than once. They are also sharply intolerant of those who would do harm to others out of fear and misunderstanding, leaving them usually opposition with others in their order. Underneath the hard exterior is someone very afraid of being vulnerable – something they spend a lot of time trying to hide.

Protective of their origins, Poppy doesn’t talk much about who they are and where they’re from, not even to those they consider close friends. Although Alaric seems to hold many of their secrets, even he will say he knows almost nothing. They do frequently allude to being from somewhere “far away” and come from a “rather large” family – brothers and sisters of all sorts are mentioned in passing. At some stage they received both magic and combat training: their skill with barriers and forcefields is unmatched and the enchanted blade hanging at their side is not just for show. They are an alchemist on the side, mostly using the skill to brew potions and poultices for their frequently injured Hunter.

As they arrived in Lunaris several months before everything truly went to shit, they were able to catch a glimpse of Finn and Ezra together in their prime. Though instantly intrigued by both of them, Poppy was content to have their relationship stand at “enthusiastic flirting” and nothing more. After Finn’s attempt at distancing and the escalation of Lunaris’ problems, Poppy was unexpectedly caught up in their reunion – quite literally walking in on them shortly after they reconciled. Though it was uncharted territory for them they will grudgingly admit it all worked out in the end, and that they are happier for it.

Alaric and Poppy

Having originally met on a special assignment in Aclea, the two of them complimented each other perfectly as both fighters and scholars. As both of them specialized in locating, identifying, and containing magical phenomena they were quickly organized into a specialist unit. Though this meant they were forced to travel in excess, it gave them both the opportunity they wanted to forge their own roles within their respective organizations.

Being sent to investigate the sudden spike in supernatural events across Eskria, and in Lunaris in particular, this assignment is their first “long-term” arrangement somewhere. It has provided Alaric the opportunity to train and fight beside one of his personal heroes, and has given Poppy the space to experiment with new recipes and spells. Though certainly one of their more challenging assignments, it is proving to be one of the most rewarding as well.

#galleywinter #writing #wtnc game

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hollowedrpg · 5 years

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CONGRATULATIONS, SARAH! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Charity Burbage. What I loved most about your application was the way in which you gave Charity’s newfound fire a source other than her wife’s death. It doesn’t come from death, but life — her wife’s life and the way she lived, ready to take on her own war of sorts. The little details throughout your application kept it a fresh read from start to finish. I’m so excited to see you continue to develop her character.

Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!

Name: Sarah

age: 24

preferred pronouns: She/Her

timezone: EST

activity: I would say my activity should be a 6-7/10 overall. My life can get pretty hectic from time to time but it ebbs and flows and I’ll be around to plot and check in most days and able to write replies 2-3 days out of the week.

are you applying for more than one character?: Not this time!

how do you feel about your character dying?: I mean of course I would be sad to see Charity go down in this war but provided I was able to have some measure of creative input as well as able to return to the rp as a different character I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing how Charity’s death plays out. She’s not a soldier for all that she’s trying to be one right now and it wouldn’t surprise me if she did end up as a casualty. To be completely honest the angst addict in me wonders how her death would affect the Order and the plot, would her light going out bring more hopelessness or would it spark dying fires of rebellion? A terrible part of me would really like to find out.

anything else?: Nothing except to say that you’re a fucking Queen Janelle and this roleplay is everything I dreamed it would be when you first mentioned it and more.

ic details.

full name: Charity Melina Burbage

Charity: Meaning “generous love” it is hard to imagine a name more fitting for Charity who was born with a heart overflowing with love for the world around her. Although Florence would have loved any child just the same, it was her wish that she would have a child who would give back to the world the joy that she herself had received in bringing them into it and she wrote that wish into her child’s name and delighted to see it come true as her daughter grew. For a long time all was as her mother had wished it. Her family was not perfect but it was defined by genuine love and kindness and for many years that was enough to keep the darkness from slipping in through the cracks. Little did she know that there was something else flowing within her precious child that would open the doors to a darkness more cruel than she could have imagined.

Melina: Meaning “honey.” Although it was Florence who swore up and down that all the honey she ate when she was trying to conceive and continued to crave throughout her pregnancy was the source of Charity’s honeyed tresses and sweet soul it was William who insisted, eyes twinkling with gentle mirth, that they pay homage to her belief with a name that would soon become his favored nickname for his only child. Although many of his mates at work offered veiled condolences on the gender of his much longed for child William could not have been more overjoyed with his bright young daughter who met him every day upon his return from work with gifts of braided flowers and treats from the kitchen. It had put a chill in his heart the day she disappeared, however briefly, behind a barrier that he could not breach into a world that he could not fully understand. Although his wife’s undaunted faith in their child and Charity’s own eager curiosity won him over at the time and he encouraged his daughter to find her place in this strange new world that was hers by right of magic the chill never fully faded away and in time he would come to see there was more reason than fatherly concern behind his apprehension.

date of birth: 23, February, 1953 (Pisces Sun, Cancer Moon, Libra Rising)

former hogwarts house: Hufflepuff

sexuality: Pansexual Panromantic

gender/pronouns: she/her

face claim change: nope!

more.

how do you interpret this character’s personality? how will you play them? include two weaknesses & two strengths.

Charity was born with a bright seed of light inside of her that flourished in a home filled with love and patience until it glowed with the warmth of a small sun. Secure in her parent’s love she was driven from a young age to share the fount of joyful kindness (+) that sprung from within her with the world around her. She could not bear to see anything or anyone suffer and was ever taking in misfit strays and wounded animals to nurse back to health, baking treats to give to their neighbors, and doing all she could to wipe frowns from any face friend and stranger alike. Even as she grew and found that the world was much colder than the loving nest of her hometown her light remained growing even stronger despite all those who hissed at her that she had no right to shine. There are those who would call her kindness weakness, even she has cursed herself more than once since the beginning of the war for not being stronger or harder, but there is value in the ability to lift others’ spirits. There is scarcely person alive in Godric’s Hollow who has not lost someone or something dear to them and Charity does her best to bolster the spirits of those around her with hope and kindness on the days she is able to. Unfortunately those days seem to be fewer and fewer as time goes on.

Once Charity’s inner warmth and kindness was as constant as the sun, but loss has worn away at it until some days it gives off little more light than a smoldering ember. The truth is that Charity is terribly depressed (-). Following her wife’s death she had rallied bolstered by her commitment to the cause of preventing further atrocities and the bonds she strengthened and formed within the Order. For a few years she found a purpose and despite the mounting horrors of war she held on tight to her belief that good would win out in time. The Massacre and attack on the Order Headquarters has utterly shaken that conviction and set her back into a darkness akin to the one that overwhelmed her when she first lost Althea. There is something even worse about the darkest days of this relapse that are tinged with bitterness and self-recrimination. When people look to her for the light she used to shed so willingly she is beginning to shrink away from them. So many of them are ready to give up and let hatred run free through their world, what makes them think she has anything left to give? Her mind is a mass of contradictions. At times she wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and let the world fade away and others she hates herself for even thinking of giving up or holding back from the people who clearly need kindness more than ever. Althea would have never given up or cast blame on the people she loved for losses that many of them also suffered. When hopelessness and bitterness threaten to overwhelm her she remembers her wife who was so determined to save the world from forces that Charity did not fully understand and she shores herself up, brews a pot of tea, and finds someone who needs a hand to hold or a shoulder to lean on.

Although most days she cannot see it, it is her spirit alongside the memory of her fierce beautiful wife that makes it so that Charity is so determined (+) not to give up no matter how dire the circumstances. When she was alive Althea was the ‘strong’ one in their relationship. Charity was plenty happy with a simple life full of beauty and was content when after many years of working at a small tea shop in Diagon Alley she was able to buy it from the owner and make it her own. She treasured the smiles of her customers and their compliments on her charmed teas and honey cakes. Although she too could be sweet and kind, Althea was more of a warrior than her sweet gentle wife. She was one of many scientists who formed the forefront of a movement to address the effects humanity was having on their planet and spent her days arguing against those who would harm the world she loved. Despite not fully understanding climate change Charity knew that Althea was working against the folly of men that could devastate both of their worlds if left unchecked. It is the fire she saw in her wife’s eyes when she spoke of men who would gladly let the world burn if it made their lives more pleasurable that is reflected now in Charity’s as she is faced with a group of people who would let their hatred and greed blind them to the evil of their actions. She has to believe that, despite all evidence to the contrary, good will win out over hatred and cruelty but she also knows that she cannot sit idly by and expect that to happen all on its own. So she remains determined to stand with the Order and make a difference despite the darkness in her heart and the world around her.

Although Charity’s determination remains strong, the fact remains that she was not born a soldier. In school she gravitated towards softer magics. She excelled in charms and potions that could impart an extra boost of calm or energy to a cup of tea or cake, heal small minor issues, make flowers bloom and last, and photographs move but she was less interested in dueling or defense against the dark arts. As a result she is weak (-) when it comes to battle magic which leaves her at a disadvantage being as she is one of a few remaining members of the resistance. In the beginning her lack of battle prowess had not mattered as much since the Order was better manned and she had other ways of contributing, but now with the Order on its last legs and beginning to fracture she is beginning to feel almost useless. She has learned to cast a Patronus, but is still struggling to learn enough offensive and defensive magic to make her presence in a fight more of a help than a hindrance.

how has the war affected this character, emotionally and otherwise?

There is little the war hasn’t stolen from Charity. It began as a shadow scarcely noticed in the otherwise blue sky of her life nothing more than harsh words hissed and whispered at her in halls and classrooms. By the time she realized how large and menacing the shadow of war had grown it was too late, it had already noticed her and stolen her love right out of her hands. Although it has been years since Althea’s murder Charity still wakes from nightmares with her wife’s name on her lips and tears soaking her pillow. She knows it was hatred, vile and putrid, that stole her wife from her but on her darker days it is hard not to dwell on her own part in her wife’s death. If it wasn’t for her Althea would have never been in the Leaky Cauldron that day. Althea never would have known there was a world existing alongside her own or that people might wish her dead solely for her lack of magic and the accident of her wife’s birth. If Charity had only paid more attention to the whispers and dark undercurrents that were rising on the streets of the magical world she had come to love alongside the one she had been born into she could have done something differently. If she had known how bad things were getting she could have taken Althea someplace safe. Even if she had only remembered to refill her floo powder her wife might still be alive and well. If…if…if…if, it was a torturous exercise but one that she had trouble stopping once it wormed its way to the forefront of her mind. Although it had felt like the end of the world when Althea’s bright green eyes drifted shut in a darkened alley way it was only the beginning. After Arthur told her about the war and the Order she had fought her way out of the darkness that had descended on her the moment the light had gone dark in her wife’s eyes to devote herself to helping them in any way that she could only to watch her friends suffer and die and finally become refugees of a bloody war.

Along the way she lost her home. After the Ministry was lost Charity had gone home to her parents and begged them to leave. All she could think of was how their home was linked to the magical world and the war that was tearing it apart from the inside out all because of her and the idea of harm coming to them because they had born a magical child terrified her. In turn they had begged her to come with them and she had tearfully refused them. They were safer without her with them and she could not turn her back on the only people fighting to keep what had happened to Althea from happening to anyone else. Her only concession was to give her mother a charmed envelope one of a set that would allow them to trade messages if they needed to and a promise that she would write them when she could. As soon as her parents were safely away she lit her envelope on fire to break the connection between them fearing it would be used to trace them if hers was ever compromised. It broke her heart to lie to her mother but her desire to protect her parents won out against the cries of a small child that lived in her chest who wanted ever so badly to run to her parents and hide. After her parents left she packed up what she could not live without, including a box full of photographs more precious to her than gold, and moved into the back rooms of her shop on the edge of Diagon Alley. The beautiful town that she had grown up in, had lived and laughed and fallen in love in, held nothing for her now. It was a ghost town full of lovely memories tinged with the pain of loss and like many things it only existed within her reach in photographs.

The Massacre and the combined failed Malfoy Manor mission and attack on the Headquarters dealt a final harsh blow to Charity’s spirit. It meant another home lost since there was enough to link her shop, sometimes used as a safehouse in the past, to the Order that it was not safe to return to. It meant that even more of her friends were dead or lost in a world that seemed colder and bloodier every day. It meant that they were losing, the death eaters took their losses as well she knows but so with Voldemort still living she knows he can continue to spread his vileness and infect new followers to fill his ranks, and that more and more of them wanted to give up. Once they relocated to Godric’s Hollow, a place so cursed by death that not even Voldemort would think to find them there, the already faded light in her chest began to flicker and bleed out. It’s hard for her some days to continue on surrounded as she is by reminders of their losses both in the landscape of the ravaged village itself and in the faces of her remaining friends.

where does this character currently stand? with those who wish to hide in godric’s hollow until the war ends, with those who wish to rebuild the order and continue fighting the war, or on neither side? Why?

Charity is torn when it comes to the schism that is beginning to tear at the center of the Order. On one hand she fully understands those who wants to do their best to remain safe and weather the war in hiding. She loves her friends dearly and wants them all to be safe and knows that there is no way to ever be fully safe while fighting a war. Not to mention there is the fact that given a chance to turn back time and keep her family together and safe far from the ravages of war she knows that she would very likely make the selfish choice to do so. But she also knows that Voldemort and those who think like him will never stop. She saw it in the eyes of the men who stole her wife from her. They knew that there would be likely be no way to avoid the repercussions of their actions, but it was worth it to them to make her and her wife suffer for the mere accident of their blood. Men like them… people like the remaining death eaters will never stop trying to destroy what they think it unworthy to exist in their world. And so those who would fight to keep the thorny vines of hatred from choking out the good in their world have to keep going as well. So as much as she understands the impulse to give in to hopelessness and hide away she stands with those who wish to rebuild and continue fighting. It’s what Althea would have done, it’s what the remaining spark of light in her soul is driving her to do. Kindness is not always soft. Sometimes it burns with all the bright heat of protective love and vengeance against those who would spread darkness. She does think that a secondary safehouse should be set up for those who cannot or will not fight, but she herself refuses to just stand by and let the evil that has infected their world and stolen so much from her and those she loves prevail.

Character Question: What is Charity’s role in the order? Has she found a place or is she still struggling to find her own way to help?

When she first joined the Order she was able to do enough to help in many little ways. She offered up her shop as a safehouse and a place to meet following missions and kept watch with a cup of soothing tea and a hand to hold for when people began to show up and had to wait to see who else would make it back. She kept an eye on the atmosphere at the edge of Diagon Alley and noticed when one by one her muggleborn regulars began to stop in less and less and then not at all. She hid messages in her daily specials and visited fellow members with baskets of food and flowers when they were injured or lost someone. Over time she established herself as a bright spot of hope in the Order by being ready with a smile and a listening ear despite having faced her own terrible loss before ever having joined the war effort.

Since the loss of her shop and her own mounting depression it has gotten harder for Charity to feel as though she is truly benefiting the order. She wants so badly to help and tries her best to remain a bright spot in the darkness for her friends and allies and to support those who reach out to her but there are days that she feels hopeless about her ability to make a true difference. Worse than that she once more feels stretched between two worlds with one foot on each side of the schism that is shaking the core of the Order. She wants to offer her love and support to everyone, including those who cannot bear to fight any longer, but her determination to soldier on causes tension between her own convictions and her desire for everyone to be safe. She wants to fight alongside those who are committed to continuing on, but she feels like she would slow them down in a true fight. She is torn and hurting and trying so hard to find the right balance to hold on to what remains of her light and keep going forward.

However, in many ways I believe she still plays an important part in the Order. Fractured and bleeding though she may be she is still a sign of goodness in a dark world and for many I believe that is important just to see her surviving. I could see her role playing out any number of ways. She is able to understand people exceedingly well and could play a part in bringing together the two opposing sides of the Order. She could also end up a martyr if she isn’t careful.

extra.

Snapshot HC’s

Hometown- Shere, Surrey, England

Parents- Florence (nee Wells) and William Burbage

Charity’s late wife- Name: Althea Quinn. Occupation: Environmental scientist/activist Appearance: Brunette w/ green eyes. They met following Charity’s graduation from Hogwarts as Althea spent most of her summers in Ireland. Charity revealed her magic to her on the eve of her marriage proposal to Althea explaining that she didn’t want there to be any dishonesty between herself and the woman she wanted to spend her life with.

Patronus: Hedgehog- “Cute and loveable inside and out, those who possess a hedgehog Patronus may thrive on giving and receiving love and may feel they need more of it than others realize. While upfront about their endearment and affectionate personality, hedgehogs are also known to be anxious and overly cautious. They often worry about their own and others of their kind’s safety. Those around must approach the hedgehog with care and precision, though, because when defensive and hurt, hedgehogs are remembered not for their sweetness, but for their sharp spikes.” “The first impression of an individual with a hedgehog patronus can be very deceiving. On the outside, they can first appear happy-go-lucky and kind, as well as slightly naive. They are optimistic individuals in the way they want to be happy and have the feeling rub off on others, but this is not who they are completely. Rather, they actually have a tough personality to them, and have the ability to fight and defend themselves. Do not take the for weaklings, because they certainly are not, and are much more perceptive than they appear. The most common house for a hedgehog patronus is Hufflepuff. The most common signs are Cancer and Sagittarius.”

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/salexis19/ch-bleeding-light/

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/emmavanity/playlist/6yJd5ZF9SMj0Rz3MIuILoe?si=IkH6i6Q9Qq24RYF_p486HA

#hp rp #rp #marauders rp #lsrpg #roleplay #accepted

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stopforamoment · 6 years

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Part Ten: I Won’t Leave You (Series 12, Part 10 of 15 )

Series Twelve: Putting the Children First (15 Parts) Part Ten: I Won’t Leave You (Series 12, Part 10 of 15 )

Masterlist

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three)

Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OC Rinda Parks Word Count: 1,206 Rating: M for Language A/N: I know this kind of resolution between a child and the parent’s new partner doesn’t come this easily. My personal experience is that I made my stepdad’s life a living hell for years because I had a chip on my shoulder. Please know that Bastien, Drake, and Rinda continue to work with Henry to put his needs first. It isn’t always smooth sailing, but he does have people in his life who always support him.

Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh.

Thank you @asherella-is-a-dork-3 for always being my sounding board! Thank you @liam-rhys-deactivated20180927 @silviasutton1989 @bobasheebaby for still being a part of the journey!

Series Summary: We’re wrapping up week six and moving into week seven, the week of October 21st. Putting children first is the priority in this series. Rinda and Laura advocate for more social workers and psychologists in Cordonian schools, and the Cordonian Safety Response Program keeps moving forward. Vivian Trakas still isn’t prioritizing her own children, and Henry deals with his own struggles with losing his dad.

Chapter Summary: Bastien tucks Henry into bed and they move on from Henry’s actions in the past 24 hours.

I Won’t Leave You

Rinda tucked Henry in bed and left the room so Bastien and Henry could talk. Henry still didn’t understand everything that happened with Stephan and his mom. “Then why did Stephan say those things? I already told you, Mr. Lykel. I like it when we spent time together, but I wasn’t trying to make you my dad. And I know you’re ‘Mr. Lykel,’ not ‘Uncle Bastien.’” Bastien sighed, unsure of how to answer. “I honestly don’t know, Henry. He’s probably mad because his dad isn’t around, and it sounds like his mom was talking about it at home. And even though I’m ‘Mr. Lykel’ at school, everyone knows that I care about you and your mom more than anyone else. I think more people know that we’re dating now, so that’s probably part of it too.” “Why is Ms. Trakas so mean to her kids? And to you and mom?” Bastien chuckled. “Well, your mom and I were talking about that the other day. And maybe you were right.” Henry looked up, confused. “Right about what?” “Maybe it’s because she is a ‘wagon.’” Henry was trying not to laugh, but he couldn’t help himself. “And a muppet gobshite?” “Um, obviously.” They both started laughing, and then Henry started snorting. “You know, Phillip and Alex taught me a lot of Greek swear words.” Bastien chuckled. “I’m sure they did. And I’m sure you returned the favor and told them a lot of American swear words?” Henry grinned. “Of course.” “So which one are you thinking of saying for Ms. Trakas?” “Um, μαλάκας.” He laughed when he saw Bastien wasn’t upset with that word. “I mean, really. Πόσα κιλά μαλάκας είσαι?” How many kilos of an asshole are you? Why are you acting like this?

Bastien snickered. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Mr. Lykel?”

“Yes, Henry?”

“Uncle Drake said you’re a dumpster fire when it comes to dating. Is that true?”

Bastien blushed, but he laughed. “Yes, that’s very true. But I’m going to try really hard not to screw things up with you and your mom.” Then he booped Henry’s nose, and Henry pretended to scowl when he slapped Bastien’s hand away.

“Mr. Lykel, I’m still mad at Stephan. And Ms. Trakas.”

“I know. I’m mad at them too, but there isn’t anything we can do about that. And you know what? What they think and what they try to do to us doesn’t matter, okay? You, your mom, and I are a family, no matter what Stephan and Ms. Trakas say. I would never try to replace your dad. But you’re my family, and I will do whatever it takes to protect you and your mom. And even though there are going to be times when we get mad and hurt each other, we still love each other and forgive each other. We’ll always stick together and I won’t leave you. There are times I have to leave early or be gone for awhile, but that’s just because of work.”

Bastien paused, unsure of how to say what he needed to say. “Henry, you know because of your dad that no one can 100% promise they’ll come home that night. So that’s why I can’t completely make that promise to you. But I do promise that I always want to stay with you and I always want to come back. When it’s completely in my control, I promise I won’t leave you and I promise I’ll always come back. So please, give me a chance and let me keep proving that to you. Can you please do that?”

Henry nodded.

“And Henry? You do a really good job taking care of your mom. I know your dad is really proud of you. I’m proud of you too. You told me that you can take care of you and your mom, and you’re right. But I’d like to help you. I’d like to help take care of you and your mom. Would that be okay?”

Henry furrowed his browed, but he nodded again. But something still wasn’t right. “Mr. Lykel, you don’t look happy. Are you still mad right now? Or sad?”

“A little of both.”

“At me?”

“No, Henry. I was never mad at you. I was sad that Stephan and Ms. Trakas hurt you, but I’m glad that we’re talking again. That makes me feel a lot better. And we can keep talking about this whenever you want to.” Bastien kissed Henry’s forehead and ruffled his hair, just like Rinda always did. “It’s because I care about you and your mom so much, and it makes me sad and angry when people try to hurt you.”

“Mr. Lykel, why do you like spending time with us?”

“Because you and your mom make me happy. Because when I don’t see you, I think of you and wish we were together. Playing baseball. Or going fishing. Or playing Monopoly. Even just sitting on the couch being together. I love all of that. And I love you. Is that okay?”

Henry nodded. “And you love my mom, too?”

“Yes, I love your mom too. Very much.”

“Do you still have to spend the night at the palace when you’re working?”

Bastien smiled. “It’s going to be another month or two until the new head of security is fully trained, and I want to be sure everything is perfect so King Liam and Queen Riley stay safe. So yes, I’m still going to spend the night at the palace when I’m working. Then when I start my new job I’ll still have a room at the palace because I’ll need to stay overnight once in awhile, but not very often.”

“And when you’re here would you still sleep at Mr. Ariti’s house, or can you stay here now?”

“Where would you like me to stay?”

Henry was getting embarrassed, so he pulled the covers over his head and turned away from Bastien. But Bastien could still hear him. “I like it when you tuck me in, and I like it when you’re here in the morning when I wake up.”

Bastien smiled. “I have to be back at the palace really early in the morning, so I won’t be here when you wake up tomorrow. But from now on when I’m here I’ll tuck you in, spend the night, and if I don’t have to leave for work really early, I’ll be here when you wake up. Is that okay?”

Henry suddenly sat up and wrapped his arms around Bastien, but he didn’t say anything. He just let Bastien hug him for a long time before he wiggled away and covered himself back up with the blanket.

Bastien smiled, knowing Henry was embarrassed, so he kissed the very tip of Henry’s head that was peeking above the blanket. “Guten Nacht, Henry.” Good night. “And the next time I tuck you in I’ll spend the night and then I can say “Bis Morgen. Just like your mom does.” Until morning.

When Bastien turned out the light he stood in the doorway for a moment, watching Henry emerge from his blanket cocoon, and he softly whispered “Σε αγαπώ αγαπητό μου αγόρι.”

I love you, my dearest boy.

#bastien lykel #rinda parks ofc #choices trr #long post

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imagining-supernatural · 7 years

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Avenging Angel: Part 25

Summary: You’ve spent the last five years on a dangerous mission to solve the crime that wrongly imprisoned your father. When the Winchesters find you half-frozen on the side of a mountain, they make it their own mission to save your life and make sure you stay alive. But after five years of uncovering horribly dark secrets, you’ve learned not to trust anyone. Especially people who seem like they have good intentions.

Word Count: 1563

Warnings: None

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7 – Part 8 -- Part 9 -- Part 10 -- Part 11 -- Part 12 -- Part 13 -- Part 14 -- Part 15 -- Part 16 -- Part 17 -- Part 18 -- Part 19 -- Part 20 -- Part 21 -- Part 22 -- Part 23 -- Part 24

“Do you love my son?”

You froze at that question, the soup falling from your spoon back into the bowl. Lunch with Mr. Covington had been an awkward, uneventful affair up until that question. Slowly, you lowered the spoon back into the bowl as you tried to wrap your mind around the best answer. “Um, yes.”

At that, he raised his eyebrow. “You don’t sound too sure about that.”

“Yeah, sorry. I do. I do love your son. I just… I wasn’t prepared for you to ask that and-you’re-very-intimidating.” The last few words were said in a single breath, blurring together in your nerves.

“I’m intimidating?”

As if he didn’t know?

“You’re very different from what I’m used to with your CEO-ness and giant building that has your name on it and that suit that probably cost about as much as my tuition for a semester. If you had a stain on your tie I would probably feel more comfortable, but you just kinda look like you belong on TIME magazine as Businessman of the Year. I’m gonna shut up now,” you trailed off and took a sip of your wine. You were a fool to think that you could ever fit in enough with the Covingtons to get information out of them.

“I see what Braxton sees in you,” Mr. Covington said with a small smile. “You’re not afraid to speak your mind.”

“Mostly when I’m nervous. I just kinda blabber and everything comes spilling out. My dad used to call me Old Faithful because he could always predict when I would just start spewing everything that crossed my mind.”

Another secretive smile crossed his face. “Tell me about your family, Y/N. Parents, siblings…”

“You don’t know? I would have thought you would have run a background check as sort of a some girl is moving in with my son and I want to make sure she’s not a klepto kind of thing.”

“This is the background check, Y/N. I prefer to get to know people in person.”

“Good business practice,” you muttered. “Um, well. Family. My mom… she isn’t in the picture. My dad’s in prison. And I’m an only child. I’m not quite the kind of woman you pictured for your son, am I?”

Mr. Covington tilted his head slightly and surveyed you. “You just told me that you, how did you put it, blabber everything when you’re nervous, but that’s all I get about your family?”

“It’s not a topic I really enjoy talking about.” Though maybe you could open a channel to talk about your dad. Make that connection and see if Mr. Covington denied it. “My mom left when I was six. She and my father were scientists. They were the crazy, mad, genius kind of scientists. Then something went wrong and my dad was arrested a few months after I graduated from MIT.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was he arrested for?”

There were so many ways you could answer that question. In the end, you chose the simplest way and looked straight into Mr. Covington’s eyes.

“Murder.”

*****

Waking up with your head on Sam’s bare chest was much more enjoyable this time than the first time around. For one thing, you remembered exactly how you had gotten into this position and every single second of that memory sent tiny flames dancing along your skin. You took a moment to just enjoy being tangled up with Sam.

“Morning.” His voice was low and scratchy with sleep.

With a soft smile, you moved until your head was inches from his on the pillow. He blinked a few times and his lips curled up into a smile as well as he slowly focused on your face. Reaching up, you pushed some of his hair behind his ear. “Good morning.”

“How are you feeling?”

Your whole body was buzzing with the memory of his. “Good. A little sore, but really, really good. You?”

“Never been better.” His eyes dropped to your neck and a proud grin covered his face. “You, uh, you have—“

“You gave me a hickey?” Laughing, you rubbed your hand over where he was looking. “Maybe I should return the favor.”

Sam’s laughter bounced through the room when you pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, already aiming for the same spot on his neck that’d he’d marked on yours. His arms locked around you, holding you tightly against his body. It had been way too long since you’d felt this carefree.

Just then, the door burst open and popped your bubble of excitement.

“Dean, what the hell?” You rolled off of Sam, hiding behind his body while you grappled with the sheets to pull them over your chest.

He paused and there was the slightest hint of surprise in his eyes for the briefest of moments. But it was enough to get your gears turning. “Sorry. I just forgot something.”

You watched as he walked over to his duffle and started digging through it. Shifting closer to Sam you narrowed your eyes at the person who looked an awful lot like Dean. “I told you to wait until this afternoon to come back.”

“Yeah, just give me five minutes and I’ll be outta your hair.” He grabbed a few things from the bag and disappeared into the bathroom. As soon as the door was shut, you reached over Sam for where your phone was on the bedside table.

“That’s not Dean,” you whispered, just loud enough to reach Sam’s ears.

“How do you know?”

Searching through your contacts for Dean’s name, you answered him. “Because I told him to stay away until this afternoon and he’s your wingman. He wouldn’t do anything to get in the way of you getting laid. Plus, this Dean looked surprised to see us like this. Our Dean knew exactly what I had planned.” You finally found Dean’s name and called him. “I guess that means this Dean shifted before dinner last night, because he doesn’t have those memories.”

The ringing stopped and Dean’s voice came over the phone. “Hey kiddo. How’s everything going?”

You could practically picture him wiggling his eyebrows. “We need you to come back. There’s a shifter-you here.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know. Just get back here and we’ll try to—” The front door opened again and you expected your Dean to come through the door. “Wow. That was quick. Where were y—”

But it was definitely not Dean who walked in.

“Mom?”

You were hallucinating. That was it. It wasn’t really your mother standing in the door. Victoria Y/L/N couldn’t be here. Especially not now.

Dean was frantically chattering in your ear, but you couldn’t deal with him, so you handed the phone to a bewildered Sam and kept staring at your mother, forgetting how to breathe.

“Hi, honey.” The corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled hesitantly.

Beside you, Sam was speaking in hushed tones, trying to explain this mess to his brother. Even pressed as closely to his side as you were and hearing his calming voice, you couldn’t find the peace that normally came when you were with him.

That was her voice. It was your mom’s voice. The voice that you hadn’t heard for over twenty years. The voice that you’d been chasing for the last five years. It took you a moment, but you finally found your own voice.

“What the hell?”

“Not quite what I expected you to say.” She took a few steps into the room and your instincts and self-preservation started coming back. There was a shifter-Dean in the bathroom, your werewolf mother in the room, and you and Sam were both naked under these sheets.

“Yeah, well this isn’t quite how I expected our reunion to be.”

Her eyes cut toward the bathroom. “Look, honey, I don’t have much time to explain, but that is not Dean in there.”

“I know.”

Just then, the Dean in question came out of the bathroom and took a survey of the new atmosphere in the room. His eyes slid over to your mother and eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Victoria?”

“George.” Tired resignation coated her words, but this new information made your eyes bug out of your head.

“George? As in Covington?” Your stomach churned. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Who’s George?” Sam whispered.

“Braxton’s dad.” You kept your eyes on shifter-Dean/George Covington as you continued your explanation, hoping for any sort of clue in his reactions. “The CEO of Covington Enterprises. And I’m pretty sure he gave the order to have me killed, am I right?”

The slightest incline of his head confirmed your suspicions, but he didn’t make any other move. “We had to know about Victoria.”

“Look, I really don’t want to—“

“You tried to have my daughter killed?” your mom screeched, whirling around on George.

“I don’t think this is the best time—“

“We were fairly sure she wouldn’t die.” He seemed so calm. But it wasn’t long before he was yelling right along with your mother and your anxiety was climbing to all-time highs.

Finally, you’d had enough. “Everybody just SHUT UP!” The room fell silent and everyone turned to look at you. “You two need to leave because I am not dealing with this while I’m naked!”

Part 26 of Avenging Angel

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jacewilliams1 · 4 years

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Remembering my brother, who taught me to fly

My CFII brother, Harry, taught me to fly. Before that though, we were pretty much just like most other brothers close in age. Growing up on a Northern Indiana dairy farm gave us plenty of times to interact, compete, learn new valuable things, and seek out adventures that would leave mountains of memories.

He was just two years ahead of me, and often things he was interested in, I was also. We had uncles that were involved in WWII aviation, with one as a flight gunnery instructor, a second as a B-29 crew chief, and a third as a a B-24 pilot. A small grass strip and a little flight school, run by our uncle and his friend, on the home farm made aviation a normal thing in our lives. We saw planes and pilots doing all sorts of things, some not considered safe or normal. Needless to say, we were quite interested and thought this was pretty much a normal thing.

When you grow up around Cubs and grass strips, aviation seems normal.

We got to drive tractors at a pretty young age (me at age 12), doing needed field work. We competed in making our tracks straight when plowing ground, mowing, or raking hay. We tried being efficient when exchanging wagons behind field harvesters, or making a 180-degree turn while running field equipment. We got real handy running a loader or spreader, driving a truck, or even maintaining machinery. We rode motor scooters and ponies. We knew what hard work was to be. This all became a good foundation as we became men and chose our life’s work.

Before age sixteen Harry began flight lessons, soloed shortly after, and got his private license at 17. I watched him solo a Piper Cub and a Tri-Pacer on one day. You could already see he was in his element. Finishing high school in the early 1960s, he became a line boy for my uncle at a neighboring airport, built time, and began working toward getting his A&P certification as well.

It was mid-1960s when Uncle Sam came calling. Drafted into the US Army, he was fortunate to end up in Alaska for 13 months at a supply depot. They provided parts to the missile contingent in the area during that Cold War period. While on leave, he was hired by a local flight school and flight charter service in Anchorage, completed his commercial ticket, and got his CFI. He did bush flying and provided flight lessons for several fellow soldiers, even his unit commander.

During his time in Alaska he had the misfortune to place a Cessna 170 on its back in a peat bog while transporting hunters to a remote location. The soft ground wasn’t suitable for landing an aircraft. Bringing in reinforcements, he said they righted the aircraft using two long poles and some hefty rope, then used two sheets of plywood cut down the middle to roll the plane a quarter mile, eight feet at a time. Except for some soft earth in the nose and on the tail, the plane was cleaned off, checked out, and flown back to its home field.

Back from the Army to the lower 48 states, he once again began working for our uncle. He once shared an episode there of another upset. Seems a student pilot in a Cessna had just returned from a local flight as a thunderstorm was arriving at the airport. Slipping out to the arriving plane as the student came by the airport terminal, and climbing in to assist hangaring the aircraft, Harry and the student quickly found themselves upside down on the ramp as the squall line arrived and began its downpour. As normally expected, the student was taxiing with the elevator up as if the wind was from the aircraft front. But this time the squall line was coming from the rear, which changed the physics and the up elevator made it easy for the wind to end the flight with the Cessna on its back.

Harry began working part time for a charter outfit flying Learjets and building hours. He briefly managed a neighboring airport as part of our uncle’s company. Then he was hired by a few local companies as a corporate pilot flying first a Cessna 195, progressing to a Cessna 421, then Beech King Air, and finally a Hawker jet. One of his early bosses told him that the reason he accepted any flight cancellations from Harry was that he truly trusted him completely. Harry met his wife and married during those years. He retired in his early sixties as corporate aviation manager, as health issues affected his flight status.

During Harry’s years as a corporate pilot he had the unfortunate occurrence of running off a snowy runway through a snow bank in Port Huron Michigan in the Cessna 421. A wet runway at his departure airport provided frozen brakes at his destination. His boss was sympathetic as the insurance settlement made it easier to justify acquiring a newer, updated aircraft.

Another brief story for Harry involved landing in a strong crosswind with several passengers. It took the third approach to safely land the plane, which was greeted with a resounding applause by his passengers. He had told them if he was unable to make that landing, they would have to divert to another airport with a runway more favorable to the wind, further delaying their arrival home.

On another occasion he took off into strong headwind in a Cessna 150. Once at a reasonable altitude he dropped the flaps, cut the power, and proceeded to back up enough to alight on the same runway without completing a pattern or making a turn. I would have paid to have seen that.

A lifetime in aviation meant a lot of interesting stories.

All through Harry’s corporate flying career he had a robust following of those actively using his talents to pursue their aviation interests. As a CFII he signed off many achievements by his students and fellow aviators. I can only imagine the number of students he trained in an environment where he allowed them to try and end his life early.

I took flight lessons from my brother later in life, acquiring my private license at age 62. Now age 73 and still flying a little, I look back fondly at those hours in training. He was a great instructor, demanding but extremely knowledgeable and experienced in a whole variety of aircraft.

One of my most ingrained episodes with him was when I flared a Cherokee high on approach, then lowered the nose to compensate for the ballooning. As expected, the aircraft arrived on its nose gear first, followed by the main gear being planted on the runway. My brother’s loud response, heard even without headgear, was “What the HELL was THAT?!” This was followed by a needed lesson on how to adjust the landing to avoid a repeat of that poor performance, and his apology to the nose wheel as he manned the towbar while hangaring the plane.

We were very fortunate to live just a few states away from Oshkosh. Most years found us making that trip by car and enjoying at least three days in aviation wonderland. In 2008 we flew a beautiful Beech Super 18S tri-gear (N90TT) for a friend of Harry’s to the big show, where it won a bronze Lindy. I rode as copilot, handling the radios, and have an hour logged flying that beautiful aircraft on our return trip. Good memories.

We lost my brother to leukemia in 2014, just short of his 70th birthday. We celebrated his life in the very corporate hangar in which he had spent many hours. We had two missing man flyovers, one before and one after the memorial service. His trusty red Jeep Cherokee and a small taildragger were on display, along with a table from the airport terminal where he shared morning hangar tales and coffee and donuts with his aviation friends as was his routine. His pocket protector with his ever-present pens and notepad were laid upon the table beside of his aviation handheld radio, and his cap and leather flight jacket hung over a chair.

I had the honor to give the eulogy. I asked the some 150 people in attendance how many had taken flight lessons, had biennial reviews, or got signed off on a new certificate from him. Over one-third of the attendees raised their hands. On display was a series of photos of Harry propping a J-3 Cub with an inscription: “Harry A. Sheetz, June 13, 1944 – May 21, 2014, Pilot, Mentor, Friend.” The Warsaw (IN) Municipal Airport community was blessed by his life for over 40 years.

He had in his flying career amassed 18,250 flight hours. That’s two years and a month in the air. His widow gave me his logbooks, and I often pull them out to look inside. Two things stand out. Reading just over halfway through his last large completed logbook, I have identified over 200 different airports he had flown into during his corporate pilot career. I suspect everything from a kit plane to various Pipers, Cessnas, Mooneys, and others can be found in those logbooks. There are likely many more entries of interest yet to be found.

I was the last of the family to see him alive in his hospital bed. The equipment keeping him alive was being shut down and no further treatment was offered. My eyes are moist thinking of him. His final flight entry was from a local flight in a Cessna 172 on April 12, 2014. A simple entry that evokes a familiar, serene scene reads “night rides & photo.” Love and miss you brother.

The post Remembering my brother, who taught me to fly appeared first on Air Facts Journal.

from Engineering Blog https://airfactsjournal.com/2020/04/remembering-my-brother-who-taught-me-to-fly/

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savvynanatravellove-blog · 7 years

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Capri Shore Excursion on Your Own!

Capri, that small island off the coast of Naples conjures up images of decadence, romance, and pleasure. Located in the Bay of Naples, just a 45 minute hydrofoil ride from Naple’s port this island has long been a favorite place for the rich and famous. From Emperor Tiberius to Jackie Kennedy to Mariah Carey and Leonardo di Caprio, Capri has been a favored hide-away, in fact Tiberius spent the last years of his life in Villa Jovis, his most luxurious villa in Capri.

These days thousands of tourists flock to Capri each day, specially in the summer. It’s become a vacation destination for newlyweds, families, and just about everyone who has a visit to the island on their bucket list. It’s also become a favorite, if not expensive shore excursion for cruisers sailing on the huge floating resorts that stop regularly in Naples on their Med Cruise itineraries.

I have been to Capri many times, mostly when I’m on a cruise that stops in Naples, but also as day trips from Rome. (Naples is less then a 2 hour train ride from Rome’s central train station via high-speed train.) I’ve gone to Capri on a Shore Excursion which I booked from the cruise line and also on my own. Actually these days we get there on our own, we find it much more enjoyable than being herded around with a 50 or 60 other fellow cruisers.

My very first visit was with a Princess Shore Excursion about 10 years ago. I was new to cruising at the time and was very concerned about being left behind, this is still a concern, but we’ve learned to plan around the ship’s departures. I booked the Isle of Capri tour from the shore excursion desk, it cost me a little over $200 a person. It included lunch, transportation to and from the island, a tour of Anacapri (the small town on top of the mountain), and free time in Capri. It was supposed to be about an 8 hour tour. Sounds reasonable right?

When we arrived in Capri we were given tickets and taken to the funicular station where we stood in line with everyone else for the quick ride up to the town of Capri. Once there we were led to waiting buses which drove us up to Anacapri. We were given about 1 hour to walk around the town, unfortunately it was too early in the morning and everything was closed! All we could do was enjoy the view and walk around a bit before we had to head down the winding road back to the town of Capri, that was an experience!

In the town our guide walked us from the bus station to the little piazzetta which is the main square in this quaint little town. She pointed out the church, the cafes, and the shops as we rushed by on our way to lunch. Lunch was at a Best Western hotel with a set menu of salad, bread, Chicken Cannelloni, dessert, and wine if you wanted. I have to say lunch wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t terrific, nor was the service.

I honestly wasn’t please with my Capri visit, I vowed to go back. When it was my son’s turn to visit Capri, he did so on his honeymoon. I had to advise him and his bride to take the ship’s shore excursion because it was their first time in Italy and I just didn’t want them to run into problems. Unfortunately my son, 5 years later, is still grumbling about their experience, and I can’t blame him!

They ended up working a deal with a local taxi driver to drive them to Pompei, my son really wanted to see it. They wandered Sorrento on their own for about an hour; the driver had told them they had more than enough time to do so and also visit Pompei. In the end they had a great time, but the driver cost them 200 Euro for the rest of the day and even though they complained to the cruise line they never did get a refund or partial refund back. My son chalked it up to a bad experience, but made sure when they went back to Capri the other year they did so on their own. It also prompted him to tell my daughter and her husband to avoid the tour when they too went on the Med cruise for their honeymoon the following year.

Having related our personal experiences doesn’t mean I want to discourage anyone from buying and going on a ship sponsored excursion. I’m just saying it’s not for us for several reasons. But if you’re going to spend the time on the shore looking at your watch and worrying about missing the ship then really you won’t have fun; it’s best you go with the ship’s tours and enjoy the time that you do have on the island. When you’re on a ship sponsored excursion you don’t have to worry about missing the ship, they wait for their tours to return no matter how late. They don’t do that if you’re on your own. And before you ask, yes they will leave you if you’re late, I’ve seen it happen!

The best time to visit Capri is in the early spring or late fall. It will be less crowded, most of the ships haven’t started or just finished their Med route. This means less crowds and shorter lines, but it also means some of the shops will be closed or be very low on inventory. Most of the big shops close in the off season. If shopping isn’t your thing then it’s a great time to visit. On the upside, at least for me, if you go in late October you catch some really good sales, specially on sandals! (I know I have a shoe problem.) If you do go during off peak season be sure to check the ferry schedules and confirm the time you must return to the ship, there are less ferries and hydrofoils that travel to and fro at this time so you will need to coordinate your return from the island to your ship’s departure time. Allow at least 1 – 1 1/2 hours for the return trip as the ferries have been known to run late specially when sea conditions are rough.

When you disembark at the port of Naples you will be walking out of the building. On your left side is a parking lot and just beyond that is Molo Beverello. This is the ferry port. From Molo Beverello you can catch a ferry to Capri, Sorrento, Amalfi, Ischia, and other places in the bay. Walk to the port, there will be a small building directly across from the docks, this is the ticket office. The windows are located on the street side of the building.

Go directly to the ticket window that has a large sign that says “Capri”. That is the window selling tickets for the next ferry departing to the island. There are 2 companies that run ferries, Caremar runs regular ferries, and Gescab runs the high speed ferries. Regular ferries cost less but take an hour to get to Capri, high speed ferries are more expensive and take 45 minutes to get there. You can buy a one-way ticket from one company and buy your return from the ticket booth on the island for a different company, or you can buy a round-trip ticket in Naples. The ticket agent will show you the ferry schedule and you can choose the time you want to return. You don’t have to buy return tickets from the same company, the type of ferry and the cost will vary depending on the time you choose.

We buy return tickets for the 15.25 (3:25) high speed ferry. This gets us back to the port of Naples about 4:20, plenty enough time to walk back to the ship before the all aboard at 5:30 – 6:00 pm. Best of all this gives us 5 full hours on the

It’s also a good idea to become familiar with the 24 hour clock or “military” time. In Europe train and ferry schedules show times as such. My rule of thumb for figuring out the afternoon times is subtracting 12 from the posted time – the result is the pm time most of us are used to.

Once you get off the hydrofoil you will be on Marina Grande (large marina). You may want to purchase return tickets if you haven’t already done so, in that case walk over to the ticket booth located on the right of the docks (it’s on the right if you’re just getting off a ferry). Otherwise you can walk in the same direction and buy funicular tickets, the booth is located just before the ferry ticket booths.

You can also walk around Marina Grande or catch a small boat to the Blue Grotto. You can also take a circle island boat tour that will take you around to the Fragolino Rocks on the other side of the island. There are also cafes, restaurants, and shops around the marina. In fact my favorite sandal shop is just steps away from the dock. But I’ll get to that later on.

We find this area very touristy with touts shoving menus at you trying to get you to sit down for a cup of coffee or pizza. I have to say that most of the restaurants here are kind of pricey and their food isn’t very good, at least the ones that are right in the middle. The ones off to the side may be better, but I haven’t tried them so I couldn’t say good or not. However they do have nice outdoor seating where you can sit and have an espresso as you watch the ferries and boats come and go.

If you don’t want to take the funicular up to Capri you have 2 other options, walk up the steep stairs located on the side of the funicular station or ride one of the convertible taxis. They’re pretty cool, at least my grandsons thought so. The last time we did this the driver charged us 20 Euro for the 5 minute ride up. You can also work out a deal with the driver to take you on a tour, which means he’ll take you up to Anacapri and then back to the town of Capri, he may agree to take you back to the marina. You have a better chance of working out a good deal in the off season, they are very busy during the season and it’s hard to even find one available.

Most folks opt for the funicular. The 1.35 Euro is a bargain and keeps you from huffing and puffing up the long stairs. So once you have your ticket, and I suggest you buy 2 for each person, one up and one down, to avoid the long lines at the top. Walk across to the funicular station and get in line.

Once inside the station stamp your ticket in the turnstile and walk up the steps to an available compartment. Seating is very limited, most of the time you’ll end up standing, but it’s a short ride, less than 10 minutes. Besides standing up lets you look out the window. You’ll have great views of the bay and also of the homes and vineyards on the side of the mountain.

If you want to just head over to the heart of the town then walk to the left of the funicular station, you can’t help but run into Piazetta Umberto I, Capri’s main square. The former Cathedral of St. Stefano sits on top of the stairs that goes up from the Piazetta. It was once the Cathedral of Capri and is one of the 2 oldest churches on the island.

We always stop by for a cappuccino and pastry before heading out to other parts. Be aware that if you take a seat at a table there is a per person cover charge, it’s about 3 or 4 Euro a person. The cafe serves hot and cold beverages, gelato, pastries, and sandwiches. The prices are pretty steep. We usually pay about 10-15 Euro for a couple of scoops of gelato for the boys. If you don’t want to spend so much you can grab a coffee or gelato and have it on the go.

From the Piazetta you can wander the little alleys that branch off from there. If you go straight and thru the arch you’ll find yourself in a quaint and calmer area with shops and stalls. They sell the most delicious fruits in the small market.

The garden costs 1 Euro per person between March 1 – November 15, kids 11 and under are free. You don’t have to buy a ticket, just pay the attendant seated across the garden and wander in. The gardens themselves are a delight! The Flower lined paths and statuary Capriscattered throughout lead you to the main attraction, the lookout!

Another site you can visit on Capri is Villa Jovis. It’s the grandest of Tiberius’ villas on the island, he built 12 villas. The villa sits atop Monte Tiberio, Capri’s second highest peak. In its hay day the villa was a sumptuous testament to the emperor’s depraved tastes featuring imperial quarters and vast baths set in dense gardens and woodlands.

Getting to Villa Jovis is a 45 minute uphill walk from the Piazetta. Begin at the Piazetta and take Via Le Botteghe (on the left side of the Piazetta) to Via Fuorlovado then to Via Croce, and finally Via Tiberio. Admission is 2 Euro and free for EU residents and kids under 18.

From Villa Jovis you can make a stop at Parco Astarita, it’s free and delightful. Walk to the last terrace and enjoy the wonderful view surrounded by mountain goats that roam free in the park. You can also take a quick peek into Villa Lysis, the neo-classical mansion built by poet Jacques d’Adelsward-Fersen in 1905.

The villa eventually ended up in the hands of the Italian state and was restored in the 1990′s. Today it’s open to the public, admission is free, and can be rented for private parties and events. It went up for sale in 2009 for about 7 Million Euro, interested?

But our all time favorite shop is Cuccurullo, located down the mountain in Marina Grande. It’s owned and operated by a young lady who learned the trade from her grandfather. She can whip up a pair of sandals in 15 minutes! Her prices are the most reasonable, starting at about 75 Euro and going up to about 200+ Euro for the most ornate. She will happily make your sandals the way you want them, my daughter Jaime stood right next to her directing her where she wanted the straps!

This place gets quite busy and you may have to squeeze your way in. I find it best to order my sandals before I head up to Capri town. I pick them up before I hop on the ferry back to Naples.

As you can see a day trip to Capri comes with a pretty hefty price tag. Just getting there and back will cost you about 45 Euro per person. Shopping and eating there can cost a small fortune. But don’t let the cost scare you away it’s well worth the trip and you can keep the costs down by picking up picnic food at one of the markets and enjoying it in one of the gardens. But really the best way to keep costs down is to keep away from the shops, specially the sandal shops!

To travel in Europe click here

#capri shore #europe travel #savvynanatravel #naples

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ruleandruinrpg · 7 years

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CONGRATULATIONS, NINA!

You have been accepted for the role of IRA SOROKIN. Admin Em: We’d received FANTASTIC, beautifully written applications for Ira and I had the worst time trying to make up my mind - but Nina, it was your headcanons that ultimately swayed me. You fleshed out areas not elaborated on in the bio to create a complete, vibrant portrait of a wolf of a girl - I especially loved how the tale of Ilya Muromets inspired her original name, and her goal to prove Durasts are as much warriors as any of the other Grisha, the invention of a weapon that was most effective in the hands of her fellow Durasts a clever accompaniment. ‘She decided that, if the birth of greatness wasn’t her natural calling, the death of it could be just as useful.’ What a beautifully succinct line that perfectly captures her adaptability. Thank you, so much for your beautiful application and welcome to R&R! You have 24 HOURS to send in your account. Also, remember to look at the CHECKLIST. Welcome to Ravka!

OUT OF CHARACTER

ALIAS: Hey there! I’m Nina.

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: She/her.

AGE: I’m 21 yo.

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: I’m currently finishing undergrad school, and that’s pretty much all I’m focusing my time on rn. So, I’ll be checking the dash every day and plotting/answering to threads every time I can get to my computer. I would be a solid 7 out of 10, I think.

CURRENT/PAST ACCOUNTS: -

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER: Ira Sorokin.

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?

My first option when I found this rp was Valerian Petrov, as it was the first one I wrote for, but upon reading the other characters, Ira was the one who stood up. I love how wild and master of her own fate she is. And also how her savagery gives me so much ground to work with. She has this infinite possibilities look that pretty much made me choose her.

WHAT FUTURE PLOT IDEAS DID YOU HAVE IN MIND?

Warriors.

The order of Fabrikators isn’t usually acquainted with combat skills, since their work’s focus lies elsewhere. But Ira doesn’t believe that her work and training are enough to keep her afloat, and to be adrift was never the position she favored in life. The Durast believes she, as any soldier, should be able to fight not only with her claws or the will of every metal on a battlefield, but with everything she had. Therefor, Ira decided to seek a partner who could train her on combat during nights and hidden from curious eyes. This is the person she chose to teach her, to destroy every bit of her confidence and rebuild her into something new, stronger. But this is also the one who knows her secret: Ira Sorokin doesn’t like to feel vulnerable, and if she felt it was necessary to trust another being to give her the skills she needed to survive, she would. One can only hope her trust isn’t misleading her.

Both a friendship plot or a manipulative one would work here. It all depends on who takes this on. I would like to see both happening, so there’s that.

Honesty versus Refinement.

When standing side by side with Fyodor Drugov, something rather curious seems to happen. The contrast between them only bring them closer. At the same time Ira presents herself as something wilder, savagery in its true form, to be with Fyodor is to belong. They’re her kind. Undoubtedly. And it urges her even closer to see how refinement suits a beast so well, when she spent a lifetime believing there was no such monster. Ira knows Fyodor is intimately acquainted with the limits of a cage, and she can see in their eyes how they loathes it too. This could be the birth of a true alliance, or the death of her. She isn’t quite sure. But Ira isn’t quite searching for an answer just yet.

The best opportunity to do all sorts of things is right here. Those two have lots of potential and I can’t help but wonder what we can do with that.

The leash.

A wild thing does not wear a leash. But time after time, Ira seems to find herself in the end of one. First, it was her parents and the dead weight they had become in her life. Then, came hunger and its way of driving her to the edge, towards an abyss that stole years of her life; – those she spent in the Sorokin household. Now, it seems the Darkling holds the end of her leash and Ira is growing anxious about holding it herself. She knows this was her choice, and she’s also aware that going against the Darkling’s domain is a step taken towards death, but a wild thing can’t help but feel claustrophobic in a cage. For how long can she keep her claws to herself, then?

Discussing if the Darkling would bother to make her respect him enough to ignore the leash, or if she is as insignificant as the Darkling keeping indifferent towards her, would be very nice. Depending on what he sees fit, Ira’s inclination to once again fight for her freedom would either settle down or grow into another war inside her. Treason or loyalty? That seems to be the question.

Angel of small death.

To lay such a violent devotion upon a fragile thing is to choose a doomed fate, but Ira had no choice. She only knows love as a violent act against the world, and when her heart found something in desperate need of nurturing in Stasya Belov, she forced her claws to be as gentle as she knew how, just to see the other’s wall building up faster than she could possibly understand how. This was rather ironic, if looked closer. The beast who knew no human trait finding the urge to devote all her love to a human who wanted no part in it. At least, this was what Ira perceived. Both the need and the walls separating them, Ira never had the courage to ask. To come closer.

Since this is a one-side connection, it would be very interesting to see Stasya’s side of it. If Ira is imagining it all, or it Stasya indeed had no interest in Ira’s devotion.

Humor me.

If there’s one thing Ira indulges herself in, is the liberty of instinct. She loves how it fits her so well, and how in control she seems when her inner beast manipulates her way through life. The very materialized form of this, is her relation with one certain Druvik Jadeja. Had she spared a moment of consciousness to consider the matter, Ira might have had the idea of how cruel that dance must’ve been to the other, but truth to be told, she neither cared to be moral nor did she have the interest to hide her cruelty. Ira loves to make Druvik dance for her like a monkey to whom she taught some very nice tricks. Manipulation is an art she began to understand through him, and one she would be very disappointed to lose in case of Druvik getting tired of their game.

Here, I would very much like to see what Druvik’s player thinks. Either see him falling deeper and deeper into her game, and wait for Ira to grow tired of how easy it has become to her, or see him revolting against her and allowing another kind of fun to present itself to Ira: the one in which she finds herself between his struggle to get rid of her cruel game and her urge to be so very violent about it all.

WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO HAVE YOUR CHARACTER DIE?: I believe so, yes! As long as it makes sense to her story, I believe it would be quite the final touch.

IN DEPTH

IN CHARACTER PARA SAMPLE(S):

BEFORE

The taste of blood in her mouth was a rather pleasing one when the girl opened the door to the Sorokin’s Household. It meant freedom in such a twisted way, that Bo grew fond of provoking the children in the streets of Ketterdam just to get into a fight and come home bleeding all over the Sorokin’s things. Every time they sent her to do errands around the city, her way of protest came with bloodstained packages and a face so bruised, the mistress wouldn’t want her in the house.

It was easier to spend hours in her master’s workshop, playing with metals as she pleased, than to spend countless hours pinning the mistress’ hair, feeding her false words and listening to her disgusting compliments in between threats. And once the woman saw the face of her child slave, what Bo had predicted unfolded right in front of her.

“This is unacceptable, child!” the woman yelled at her, “I do not wish to see your ugly face inside the house”, and against her scum, Bo hid a smile as she looked down and left the room. The pain that came with all those bruises was never so great as the one of serfdom. The girl wasn’t born to live in a cage. Wild things belonged somewhere else. But the Sorokin seemed blind to such a small and meaningful truth. It was rather convenient to keep her at an arm length. And so they did.

Every day she was moved as the masters pleased. Obeying every word in order to feed, to be kept warm and to have a bed at night. More frequently than not, the girl missed the soft brush of leaves against her skin, and the smell of freedom surrounding her. Those were days of happiness, – the ones spent in the wilderness of Ketterdam’s outskirts. She had no family, no master and no mistress to pin her down. Bo was free.

Shame that hunger brought her to a gun point. Now she knew this world wasn’t her place of right. She was told just how much otherworldly and beast-like she was at every bullet she escaped by the will of her mind. “Grisha”, the man had called her, and Grisha she became in the hands of her master.

That man only knew how to take advantage of Bo’s abilities, and though she despised every inch of him, this was a lesson the girl soon learned upon living with the Sorokin. If Bo wanted something, she had to take it from whoever had it. If she wanted to be left alone in the master’s workshop, she had to be beaten up badly by the lost children of Ketterdam and return home with barely no dignity.

But the girl knew, deep down, that this lesson would thrive into something greater. Time was all she needed. For as she manipulated steel into the form she well pleased, unnerved by the bars in her cage, Bo planned the future days of freedom. Those who waited for her in the end of that piece she was working one: a blade. The instrument to buy her way out of this hole.

INBETWEEN

Tw: slavery, torture.

The sea crashed against the hull of the ship as the whip of a master against his slave’s bare skin. It had the cruelty of who feared nothing and respected no one but itself. And it reverberated on a certain Ira Sorokin who knew that reality far too intimately to not spare a minute of recognition when the structural entity of the ship was set in a fierce wave.

At this point, the men on board seemed to be so acquainted with the violence of the sea and how it reflected so perfectly on Ira’s eyes, that they settle themselves on not bothering the girl once she was balanced on the bowsprit at the end of every day of work. For this was the time she devoted to the past. The moment of every passing day on the sea where she would close her eyes and feel the wind upon her face. Where she would poise herself as the daughter of feral things and travel back to the world of a girl whose name was now lost. “Bo Murometz”, she would whisper to herself and into the wilderness. In an attempt to hold on to that piece, to keep herself from forgetting.

She wasn’t sure why it mattered so much, but the thought of letting go was rather a sharp one. It left disfigured cuts on its way and more often than not, bathed on her blood. Ira Sorokin could never let Bo Murometz fade away. It was a stupid name of a stupid girl, but it belonged to her. There wasn’t many things in her life that she could call her own. Freedom, Bo Murometz, the chance of a glorious future… these were the things Ira possessed, and to devote herself to those small details, was to hold on with all her violence, in all her cruelty.

With the traders as her witnesses, Ira became the sea of unwanted things, and with no one to care for them, she took upon herself to be their guardian. Every day she stopped at that same place, climbed the wooden structure towards the bowsprit, and let her mind wander. The men feared her, despite the prejudice of women bringing bad fortune on sea. And they admired her, far beyond the immaculate beauty of her face. They knew she was something else entirely. Not the woman who worked her way into that ship and woke up every morning to prove her value to the crew. Not the girl who seemed lost in those split seconds of solitude. But certainly the being whose claws were beast-like.

They knew better than to ask, though. And she was grateful for it. Her hands were still wet with her masters’ blood. Her tongue still poisonous with her mistress’ name on it. She wasn’t just about to spill it all out, nor did she cared to do so. They kept to themselves, and Ira did the same. For the day she would set her feet on Ravka’s shore, was the day she would not have the time to the past. This was her way to say goodbye. This was her way of, utterly, and reluctantly, let go.

AFTER

The sound of chains made of Grisha steel whipping the ground was like a thunder ready to bring down a fortress. Ira greeted that old force with the devotion of a lover.

This was the moment she waited for the entire day. The fall of night when she could escape the curious eyes and hide as far way from both palaces as she could, with nothing to accompany her but the chains around her torso and a handmade tobacco roll burning between her lips. And though the drug was the one erasing all the insignificant beings that crossed her way, the weapon was the one to calm her down.

With time, she grew fond of the grip of metal between her fingers, or the rush that using her power brought. Ira liked to watch the tsepi unfold and move like a snake by her feet under her command. She could see, there, how promising her order was, for her dreams of glory always came hand in hand with the Durasts being able to be something other than workshop’s rats. Within those walls was another cage, and Ira wasn’t just about to confine herself again.

So the woman raised the roll to her lips and breathed in the smoke of tobacco. Her dark eyes falling shut as she stopped and ordered the tsepi to wrap around her torso once more. She smiled fiercely. A part of Ira knew she wasn’t meant to be displaying her pride like a trophy, but the part born beast made her loose hair and untidy clothes fit naturally to the chains she summoned back to her body.

That moment, Ira Sorokin was made of warning, of danger. This was the girl who murdered the man and woman who dared to imprison her. This was the wild thing that survived in the forest for so long and with no help at all. And this was the sailor who bought respect from the traders that led her here.

Strange was the path of a monster such as Ira Sorokin. One she, herself, couldn’t understand. Yet, she managed to conquer a few great things. A brief moment of freedom. The liberty to be otherworldly amongst her equals. What would her mistress tell her now?

There was no blood staining her clothes, her ethereal beauty as intact as the real Ira Sorokin liked. But her mistress was long gone. She couldn’t see her child slave now, and that piece of satisfaction, that small accomplishment, made the beast thrive.

CHARACTER HEADCANONS:

x The lost child.

There’s a name whispered at night that Ira holds close to her heart and out of danger. It belongs to a girl who could barely remember her first years in this world, but who had known, with every inch of her soul, what her father had cried out in his vices and what her mother dared never to say. She believed it meant “wave” in her mother’s tongue, for she knew it was different from the one she learned in Ketterdam. It was an easy-to-remember name, a simple and sonorous one to Ira’s ear. It was Bo. Just this. No family name.

Until, there is, she wandered off and went to the outskirts of Ketterdam, where once, upon hearing voices between the trees, the girl found a father and a son traveling north. Hidden and far too curious about their ways, she heard a story about one Ilya Murometz, a bogatyr whose story started with “From the famous city of Murom, out of the village of Karacharovo, the valiant, doughty youth Ilya Muromets, the son of Ivan, set out far into the open fields…”.

She wasn’t sure what that word bogatyr meant, nor where those cities and villages were, but the girl was certain they were very much real, like Ilya himself. She learned how he spent his first 33 years of life on a stove, unable to move, as the consequence of a curse put on his grandfather, and how, upon the arrival of three religious men, the bogatyr found himself able to walk for the first time and became the owner of a super-human strength.

Enacting battles and great heroic moves, the strange traveler described how Ilya single-handedly defended the city of Chernigov from invasion and how he, afterwards, killed the forest-dwelling monster who murdered travelers with his powerful whistle. And with every victory, Bo celebrated as fiercely as she knew how. Ilya Murometz defeated bandits, three-headed flying serpents, possessed knights and even princes. A true bogatyr, a true hero.

When the night fade away and Bo lost the travelers in her sleep, she woke up the next morning to one decision: she was to be a monster slayer, a hero, just like Ilya. From that day on, she was to be called Bo Murometz. The girl who survived on her own and left on her path many victories.

This was the name Ira Sorokin kept a secret: the easy-to-remember word her useless parents gave her and the tale of glory she stole from a traveler in Ketterdam.

x The tsepi.

Ira isn’t as devoted to the creation of things as she’s to their destruction. For a Durast in the Second Army, who was supposed to tailor equipment and build ships and fortresses, then, it was a tough path to fit in. But as always, Ira managed a way. She decided that, if the birth of greatness wasn’t her natural calling, the death of it could be just as useful.

Upon settling her mind to the task, Ira excelled on designing weapons to fit every special need. In the beginning, it was a rather disappointing project, but Ira didn’t rest until she left the workshop with triumph between her fingers. She created something called the Tsepi, a weapon that could only be useful to very skilled hands or to the Durast, It consisted of a chain made of Grisha steel that could be wore as a defensive weapon upon attacks in hand-to-hand combat, as well as one that involved knives and objects alike. But also one that worked as a whip and followed every command of the people who controlled metal as she did.

And once tested and proven worthy of her every efforts, Ira decided to be the first to show that Durast were warriors as much as any other Grisha. She knew it wasn’t exactly the description of her kind’s endeavors, but she didn’t really mind. Ira wears her tsepi wrapped around her torso, beneath her kefta, as the most beautiful and priceless jewel, and dreams of the day it will be a success in the Second Army, because the Durast will be encouraged to leave the workshop if they wish to.

x The True Sea and the Shadow Fold.

On her way to Os Alta, Ira had two paths to choose from. One used the land bridge between Kerch and Shu Han to cross the True Sea and get to Ravka through the mountains that divided Shu Han’s and Ravka’s territory. The other was a wagon to a Port City where she would find her way into a Trading Ship with its course settled for Ravka, where she still would have to cross the Unsea to get to Os Alta.

Aware of the stories that travelled all the way to Ketterdam about Grisha who were experimented on in Shu Han, Ira decided she would rather cross a million times the Shadow Fold than risk being caught by the Shu Han and become a slave again. So she settled for the wagon, and once in the nearest Port City, found her way into a Ship that carried tobacco to Ravka. It wasn’t an easy journey, but she found out she loved the True Sea. Had she not dreamt of glory in Os Alta, Ira would’ve settled with a life on a ship, traveling back and forward to wherever the wind would take her.

This was particularly why the sight of the Unsea made her partially regret her decision. From something so beautiful and pure, to that aberration. From freedom itself to her grave. At least, this was how she defined the Fold the very moment she entered it. Rather unnerving was to realize, once she heard the volcra surrounding them, that she was more curious about them, than it would be wise. Something about those creatures just found an echo in her. Ira was afraid of them as any other sane human being, but that thing reverberating in her with the wings of the volcra and the blood they left in their path, just seemed right. After all, like calls to like. Beasts feel at ease between their kind. Why wouldn’t Ira be curious about the volcra?

x The way to vices.

The girl Ira once was would never dare to nurse a vice. The reality of its ruination still fresh on her mind from all the disgusting things her father meant to her. But the woman Ira became needed a vice so desperately, that she took upon the opportunity to learn from those tobacco traders how to roll tobacco to smoke and which were the best to chew. It became a rather strong and reliable thing to do whenever she was unnerved or displeased with something or someone, and since the trip to Ravka, the Durast is still nursing that poison on her mouth.

If she’s not in the workshop or training, she’s most certainly smoking by the lake or wandering through Os Alta to buy her stock of tobacco.

EXTRAS:

x Personality.

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN

Scorpio.

MORAL ALIGNMENT

Neutral Evil.

TYPE

Entrepreneur // ESTP-A.

TRAITS

Cruel. A conscious is a luxury not many were granted on birth, and Ira just isn’t one of the lucky. She was born to a world of cruelty, where the only ones who survived were those who learned how to be just as fierce and cruel. And as time went by, this particular trait of her developed with every drop of blood to ever touch her skin.

Independent. There’s not a thing or soul in this world that may control Ira, if she doesn’t allow them too. She has become her own master and made sure no one would ever rule her around once more. Now, the only one she respects enough to follow is The Darkling, for she also knows how to preserve her own freedom.

Feral. Everything Ira does has a heartfelt and powerful intensity. She may be small and rather fragile-looking, but those are the traits no one seems to perceive once she enters a room. For Ira walks as the person who knows what are life’s barriers, but has conquered them all. She’s involved with the world, with this life, in such an unique way, that powers emanates from her. And it’s wild, beast-like. So otherworldly, that she could very well be the monster on her favorite bogatyr’s story.

Devoted. To love is a rather violent act to Ira. She knows nothing about gentle emotions and thereof how to display them in such manner. But she, as anyone else, can love. And hers is a rather strong and fearless one, – though Ira won’t offer this rare and precious form of devotion to many. She’ll love whom she chooses with all her soul, mind and body, but she won’t know how to tune it down, how to be civilized about it. Ira will do it as fiercely as if it was a battle for her life, and though it may not be healthy, she knows no other way of loving someone.

Self-centered. When you live a life as she did, you learn that the one person to be trusted is oneself. She doesn’t trust anyone, no matter how strongly she feels about them, and won’t rely upon any other. Therefore, Ira is the most important person in her life and that’s final. All she does is based on her interests only, and all she thinks about is how to benefit from everything surrounding her. For as long as her distrust in mankind exits, this will be the way of Ira Sorokin.

x Aesthetics.

Here.

x Quotes.

1. “Nada do que fui me veste agora (Nothing I was fits me now)." — Maria Gadú.

2. "Her violence was art." — Rachel Vincent.

3. "I am made of untamable demons and unfillable voids." — Ira V. Simon.

4. "The passions we cannot control are the ones that define us.” — Simon Van Booy.

5. “Re-create yourselves: and let this be your best creation.” — Friedrich Nietzsche.

x Playlist.

1. Iron by Woodkid.

“A soldier on my own, I don’t know the way I’m riding up the heights of shame I’m waiting for the call, the hand on the chest I’m ready for the fight and fate

The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head The thunder of the drums dictates The rhythm of the falls, the number of deads The rising of the hordes ahead

From the dawn of time to the end of days I will have to run away I want to feel the pain and the bitter taste Of the blood on my lips again”

2. Running with the wolves by Aurora.

“Go row the boat to safer grounds But don’t you know we’re stronger now My heart still beats and my skin still feels My lungs still breathe, my mind still fears But we’re running out of time, time All the echoes in my mind cry There’s blood on your lies The sky’s open wide There is nowhere for you to hide The hunter’s moon is shining”

3. Youth by Daughter.

“And if you’re still bleeding, you’re the lucky ones ‘Cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone We’re setting fire to our insides for fun Collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked our home It was a flood that wrecked this home

And you caused it”

ANYTHING ELSE?

Regarding the book question, as I said before: I confess I had a really hard time thinking about my answer. I know it’ll probably change, as it did a few times, but The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller, The Secret History by Donna Tartt and Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turgueniev are my favorite books rn. I’m an Oscar Wilde trash 4ever, as in I pretty much love everything that guy wrote (and also Teleny, that no one actually knows if he wrote it or not, but wtv), and that’s the only constant regarding books and myself, but those three are the favorites of the season, or something like that kljdslfkjsdlfkjs

#raraccepted #accepted: ira #i said beautiful 10000 times

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thisishowyouletgoandfindyou-blog · 7 years

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People change

I was about 22 when I got married. At that age, my personality was just about crystalized. It would take a couple more years, until the age of about 24, for my pre-frontal cortex to fully develop. I was a child when I got married, and even more of a child when I got engaged. I didn’t know what I wanted, or even who I was. I didn’t have the ability to be aware of my emotions, or to know what I felt about my thoughts.

As we get older, our personality fixations hopefully soften, and we develop more dexterity in our ability to cope with things emotionally. We develop increasing choice and self-awareness. At least this is what happens when we are open to growth, integration, and feedback. This kind of change occurs particularly rapidly if we increase self-awareness through meditation and therapy or coaching.

I started meditating at around the age of 27, and I started to change a lot. I became less accommodating. I was less willing to just do whatever my wife wanted without taking into account what I wanted. That was a big change in our dynamic. I had been the provider, the problem solver, the planner, and the one who made everything work smoothly. Now I started to let go of that. I wasn’t interested in making everything go smoothly anymore. I wanted to chill out a little and do nothing. I wanted to put my feet up and relax when I got home from work.

In any relationship, the partners mesh together like a pair of cogs, with teeth interleaved. When one of the people starts to change, it can wreak havoc on the relationship. In that marriage it did. The breaking point was when my son was not returned to me (I’ll explain later). That’s when I started intensive psychotherapy, which of course led to more change, which made our marriage even worse. In hindsight, I probably should have visited an international lawyer instead of spending the next few years fighting for a marriage that was inevitably falling apart.

Don’t get me wrong, change is not bad. In fact, change is good. Increasing self-awareness is very good, very important. It’s what’s necessary to live a fulfilling and healthy life. I recommend meditation, therapy, and coaching to everyone. The thing is, we all change, and we change a heck of a lot in our twenties, especially if we’re meditating and getting therapy or coaching.

I recommend not getting married, which is, by definition, a life-long commitment, until you’ve done a lot of inner work.

Only do what you want

As much as possible, take action based on what you truly want, not based on what you think is “right” or “acceptable.” Every decision I ever made that went against what I truly wanted came back to bite me in the ass. Each of those decisions, which may have looked “right” to outside parties, or on paper, or to my conscience, ended up leading to outcomes that I wanted even less.

When my wife would not return from vacation in our country of birth with my baby son, I dropped everything to keep our family together. I reverted to my role as the problem solver. I bought and sold houses at great financial loss, compromised my career, left my community, relinquished my green card, and spent years entangled in complex and expensive international tax scenarios. I wanted to keep my family together, but I didn’t want all of that. I took action that I thought was “right.” I thought I was being a “good” husband. I thought I “should” put my family first.

With hindsight, I see that if I had not taken action, if I had stood my ground, if I had spent time feeling what I wanted, validating it, and enjoying the empowered feelings associated with that, I would have made very different decisions. The outcomes would have been very different, and probably much more in alignment with what I truly wanted. Perhaps the outcomes would have been less destructive for everyone, including my son, and including myself.

I’m not writing this to bitch about my ex-wife. I don’t even have anything negative to say about her. I’m also not writing this to dwell on mistakes and feel bad about them. I’m examining this part of my life with you, right now, in order to both gain and impart as much value from it as possible.

When I look back, I know that it was very clear to me what I wanted, and I chose to go strongly against that, to not trust that, to not honor that. I believe that everything I wanted, regardless of what was “right,” could have been available to me if I had stood firm in my authority and my power, the power of honoring what I wanted.

“Right” is just a dead mental concept. What you truly want is living and powerful, and your clear intuition, your drive and motivation, can be trusted. What you truly want is all you can really know for sure. whereas what’s “right” is usually wrong.

Every relationship is a success

All relationships are successes. We gain so much experience from being in relationship, especially a “bad” relationship. All of life is about relationship, and we get to practice relationship particularly intensely in intimacy with our partner. All of our transference comes up as we begin to see the positive and negative traits of our parents in our partner. We get to heal, or deepen, the wounds of our childhoods with our partner. And then we get to reflect on that, and to integrate and grow.

All relationships have a natural end. For some relationships the end comes with death. For others the end comes with separation or divorce. It might seem that some relationships would have been even more successful had they ended sooner, with less suffering and hurt. However, relationships always end when they do, and when they do turns out to be when one or both people understand that they should.

My wife divorced me. Even though it destroyed my life as I knew it, I don’t take it personally. It was her right. In hindsight, I would have been happier had she done it much sooner.

Cultivate quality friendships

For a long period before we divorced, and though I was back in my country of birth, I felt isolated. We lived in a relatively remote region with few local friends, and I was busy working from home. Nearly all of my human contact was with my toddler son, and my wife. When she asked me to leave our family home, I reluctantly complied, and desperately began to seek her favor, trying to persuade her to change her mind. I was desperate to achieve my goal of keeping our family together. My identities as a husband and a father were also under threat.

During this time, I started to make friends. I made some really close friends through doing The Hoffman Process, which I strongly recommend to everyone. It’s available in many different countries. I spent time with people who cared about me, who loved me, who had compassion for me. These people treated me kindly.

I experienced long periods of being away from my wife, periods with people who treated me kindly. Then I would visit her, and try to persuade her to not divorce me. My experience of her during those time was a great contrast with that of being with my friends. I began to realize that I didn’t want to be with her either. It was like I was waking up from a deep sleep. I hadn’t realized how unpleasant it had been for me to be with her. It had been constantly painful for years.

Since divorce, I have cultivated and maintained many friendships. I have also made sure to take frequent breaks from my intimate relationships. I did this so that I could get a clear perspective on what it’s actually like to be with that person. If you’re not enjoying and benefitting from being in a relationship, and things cannot be resolved, then you have an opportunity to grow even more by ending the relationship.

The world is full of people who are waiting to give you love and compassion. Seek them out, enjoy them, and celebrate them. Don’t waste your life being stuck with people with whom you’re not compatible, with whom you don’t mesh.

Commit appropriately

When my wife did not return from abroad with my son, without my consent and without consulting me, I now understand that the implicit message she was sending to me might have been, “I’m not working with you. I’m acting unilaterally and autonomously from you.” Instead of listening to that implicit but clear message, and matching the level of commitment in my actions, I dived in and doubled-down on my commitment to her. I sacrificed my own foundational position of strength, over-reached my center of balance, and committed to someone who was not supporting me.

I have a tendency to overcommit. I had to learn to pay attention to the signs of willingness to commit from the other person and then match that.

In more than one subsequent relationship, my partner has complained about me to my face, or to others, “You’re too anxious,” or “You’re too jealous.” This last one was projection: I suffer from many weaknesses, but romantic jealousy is definitely not one of them. I have learned to match the sentiment. I now take the position of, “I understand that you think I’m too anxious for you. I love you, and I want you to be happy. I wonder if it makes sense for you to be with me.” I have also learned that sometimes my partner just needs a hug.

In a broader sense, I have learned to not chase after people who are pushing me away. On the flip side, I have learned to not run away from people who are pulling me in. Note that some people, and I’m not referring to my ex-wife, like to pull us in so that they can then push us away, or push us away so that they can then pull us in. Handle such people with caution.

We’re attracted to dysfunction

You know when you see that person who seems magical and you just want to be with them no matter what? That’s called limerence. What’s happening is that your unconscious, disowned parts see an opportunity to get into a protracted battle with their unconscious, disowned parts.

Beware of limerence. Have lots of relationships so that you can learn that we’re all just humans, sacks of blood and bones and guts. We’re all saddled with endless psychological tics and insecurities. Inside, we’re all ugly as fuck, and yet super-lovable at the same time.

One of the main things I have learned from starting and ending many relationships is this fundamental truth: this one is not “the one” (there is no “the one”). No matter how special they might seem, no matter how much I put them on a pedestal, sooner or later I’m going to learn the truth that they’re just another human. They’re struggling through life too, and I’m going to be challenged to love them warts-and-all. I’m going to be challenged to love the parts of myself that I have disowned. I’m going to have to learn to love the parts of myself that I have projected onto this other person.

With enough experience, when you find yourself attracted to someone, and you get that sense that they’re somehow special, you begin to recall the truth. You know how this goes. You know how this story plays out. It always plays out the same way. Boy meets girl, they put each other on pedestals, then they learn the truth about each other (really about themselves), then they struggle, finally they either accept reality and go deep, or they experience a painful and growthful break up.

Conclusion

What I want you to take from this article is a sense of the importance of getting to know yourself deeply first. Spend your twenties getting to know who you are and what you want. If your twenties are in the past, then start now. Meditate and get coaching or therapy. Learn to validate what you want and go for it. Prioritize taking care of yourself. At the same time, get lots of experience by starting and ending many relationships. By doing this, you will find out what you like and want, and you will be able to develop a contrast between the different relationships. At the same time, by developing deep friendships, you will have a reference point of what if feels like to be cherished. Good luck.

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