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gwenllian-in-the-abbey · 4 months

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WIP Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @emilykaldwen

RULES: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

I am also breaking the rules and just posting a snippet because I can't count. This is not technically the last thing I wrote either so I'm breaking all the rules, but it is from the upcoming chapter of Our Fathers Clad in Red, a scene in which Aegon throws a farewell feast for the Lads that turns a bit, well, laddish:

“Do you reckon they’ve got Dornish women on the Street of Silk?” asked Martyn Hightower.

Redwyne cuffed his squire. “They’ve got girls on the Street of Silk from every corner of the continent and Essos besides. Of course they’ve got Dornish women, not that you can afford them on a squire’s stipend.”

Once Aegon would have happily planned with them, how they might carouse until dawn. He was sure he still knew many of the best brothels and taverns, although some had shuttered their doors during the war and the aftermath. Now, though, the idea left him oddly ambivalent. He was certain there were whores who could pleasure someone with his… limitations, but he did not relish the idea of what the they might say afterwards. Nor did he have any reason to visit whores when he had a beautiful young bride who, for whatever reason, was willing to visit his bed. When he was younger, he might not have given it much thought, but Baela’s regard had been hard won, and the idea of disappointing her, of causing her hurt, made the idea lose what little appeal it might have had.

But there was something slightly bittersweet in knowing that although he had not yet reached his twenty-fourth nameday, that part of his life was finished with, gone forever. He’d not thought to mourn it at the time, and it was too late to mourn it now. How many other last times had passed him by just as quietly? It was not something to dwell upon while in one’s cups.

tagging @aifsaath @aglaias-blog @theothermaidoftarth @tragediegh @mellowthorn @branwendaughterofllyr @theravenpiper @whatevsbla and whoever else wants to share stuff, just consider yourself tagged.

#writing tag #our fathers clad in red #aegon ii targaryen #baegon #gwenllian writes!#aife writes!

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bride-of-the-monster · 8 months

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Aglaia: I just don’t understand why men get so excited over bodies. It’s the person underneath that counts. Hephaestus: *passes by* Aglaia: I would like to take back my previous statement.

#greek mythology #hephaestus #aglaea #aglaia #incorrect quotes #hephaestus and aglaia

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strykingback · 1 year

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Changing RWBY: The Ever-After

Okay so just putting this down here: The following does contain a suicide mention

Yooo. So I just decided to start something up called Changing RWBY where every now and then I may post something that I disliked about RWBY's main canon and how I would change it. Be wary this is gonna get really REALLY RWDE.

So before I continue the following triggers will be in this: suicide mentionOh and spoilers for Volume 9! Okay with that out of the way lets begin with how I would change the Ever-After!!

To be honest, when I first saw the images of the Ever-After I was a little bit mystified but everyone including myself were thinking about one thing: "Could it be RWBY's take on the Afterlife?" which would have been interesting no less, buuuut...

It wasnt. As at the end of Volume nine it was just "there" and the God of Light and Darkness were once afterans before they "Ascended" and left the Ever-After. (Geez way to contradict your lore once again CRWBY.)

However right off the bat this is where I need to say this and it needs to be changed heavily. First off it should have been the Afterlife. As this would have meant the reintroduction of many classic characters who had died on-screen. This could even lead to even interactions with characters from Ancient Remnant. Now not to say that I wouldn't want to miss out on the Afterans as well.

Speaking about the Ancient Remnantites. WE NEEDED interactions with them, such as their reactions to hearing about Salem and how pissed off they are at Salem for leading them to their deaths and brief extinction. Not to mention how they could have explained that the God of Light and Darkness as a FINAL act of kindness created the Ever After as the Afterlife. Not to mention it is akin to that of a: "Happily Ever After" thing.

Now onto another thing the Afterans. Okay I'm all for wacky looking characters, but why did it have to be just lego set pieces, chess pieces, and other bullshit?! GO BALLS TO THE WALLS CRAZY AND PUT IN MYSTICAL CREATURES. Come on man! You have a talking Raccoon in there as an Afteran, why cant you do the same for the other Ever-Afterans!?!

For me, I would want to take any mystical character like actual fairies, talking dragons, talking fish people, animals that act like humans (Not in relation to faunus). Yeah its THAT EASY. Take for example That Time I Was Reincarnated As A Slime. By the time the village of Tempest had grown into a full blown city all sorts of monsters start to come towards the city!!! Creating an amazing sense of diversity.

Think about Humans, Faunus, Ancient Remnantites and the Ever-Afterans. It fits beautifully! And now leading into how the culture would mesh. Now since were talking about that it would mean one of three things.

The currency

Now for anything currency can be many things. It could be the old remnants currency which we'll call it the Aglaia coins, Lien for the Present. How can the Afterans trade? Simple remember how Jynxy was willing to trade? You need to have something that fits with that Afteran and its value.

It isn't going to be that damn easy! As most Afterans would need something from you in order to do so. Suddenly stealing something from someone without a trade will not fly especially if someone is alive. As when Yang finds Jynxy he apologizes for rudely taking Yangs prosthetic without a proper trade agreement. As repentance he gives her a ride on emporium to get where they need to go.

2. Who Rules What Area?

Okay so since the Ever-After is fucking massive and all. This would mean we would need to treat in terms of lands and other things. In a snowy area the Frost Giants rule that land as peaceful as they are they are wary towards other people including Afterans passing through.

In more temperate areas that are pretty much chilled out and stuff. It is ruled by the Two Twins. Who simply prophesize Good and Bad things to come. As many people taking their word to heart and even prepare in case of the hard times that is to come while also prepping for the good times.

In Any Areas marked with a Red Heart or even a flag. This would belong to the Red Queen (the main antagonist of my take of Volume 9) anything she says is law in her territory and everyone must do as she says. Or they must suffer the consequences.

If it is near the Tree of Yggdrasil it is ruled by the first Champion of Remnant. Shaka Ishvalda. Who gives people the choice to stay or be reincarnated when they pass through the tree leading back to Remnant. Kind of akin to the Lifestream in the FF series.

Any Area that has no ruler is free reign.

3. Smaller Settlements

Now just like in Remnant any corresponding area as above do have small settlements just like the Paper Pleasers but due to the nature of the Ever-After not every settlement can make it through as either it is growing on its feet, or just even suffering through...but most settlements that lead to the Tree of Yggdrasil count as checkpoints! For people going to be reincarnated to rest and relax with other travelers to converse and such.

Now I know what you must be thinking what about the means of death. Now this is where I needed to look into a few things. And well thank Record of Ragnarok and Coco because If one were to die in the afterlife....They are erased from all existence.... never to return...

Simple as that.

Lastly is the Ascendance.

Fuck how CRWBY for having such a fucking idiotic idea to glorify suicide. So we're changing that shit entirely to something else. This time the Ascendance should have been when a character learns something important that helps them grow whether if mentally, physically, emotionally, or any other fancy way. So yeah, no tea suicide drink or giving yourself up to the tree. Just learning a clear lesson.

The roots of Yggdrasil will extend to that area and will wrap around that person for a few minutes, taking them to the very core of Yggdrasil where they are given a new ability that could one day be important for the future. How can that be applied to team RWBY simple.

Yang- She grows by understanding that her own anger may one day harm those closest to her creating a massive rift between her and Ruby. As she realizes this, Yang closes her eyes and meditates thinking of good and bad moments that have come and went. Realizing she needs to change herself before it is too late as she gains the ability to set her fists on fire whenever she is using Burning Rage (Which she later on renames to Burning Passion)

Blake- After having a conversation with Sienna Khan, Blake begins to see that even if peace is obtained between both humans and faunus, nothing will change. However, there are those who are going to stand with the faunus and fight for them, even to the point where it may lead to their own deaths, endangering their careers, or worse. For Blake her semblance gets an upgrade to where she can now enter a state of focus to control said clone.

Weiss- After conversing with he Grandfather and dealing with one of the Red Queens court with him. She understands that the SDC has done more harm than good, and that she is willing to take full responsibility for their actions once they return to Remnant and end Salem once and for all she plans to take control of the SDC and begin constructing it to be better and accepting all consequences that should come from it. All while offering more to the faunus communities due to how infamous the SDC was towards the faunus. Her new ability would be to now utilize more of her Glyphs at its strongest.

Ruby- After finally meeting Summer and the FIRST Silver Eyed Warrior along with Ishvalda. Ruby realizes the meaning of Light at the End of the Tunnel as she realizes that through Ishvalda that his teachings led to more champions of Remnant during its ancient years, then the first Silver Eyed Warrior sacrificing their eyes in order to save millions from a Grimm, led to the birth of the Hunters and with Summer defeating Salem temporarily, this led to preservation of the Future as now for Ruby....She must defeat Salem in order for peace to be fully obtained.... and thus preparing herself to pass on the next lesson to the next generation. Well for her, there is an upgrade to her semblance allowing her to move faster that she is capable of attacking while using her semblance.

Seriously there are so so so SO many ways people can grow. And yet... CRWBY just wants to be fucking lazy as shit. I said it before and I'll say it again.

Fans can do RWBY so much better than what the CRWBY can put out.

#RWDE #is this rwde #anti-crwby #anti-roosterteeth #anti-mkek

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vanya-imyarek · 1 year

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The Washerwoman

DISCLAIMER: while ispired by real accounts of obstetric violence, all names and facts recounted in this story are invented and do not refer to real people.

The hospital hall was almost blindlingly white, only broken by the equally aqua-clad nurses going back and forth. Tha air was filled with a low murmur, and occasionally a scream, a request for help.

Nobody was looking in her direction. She tried to stop a nurse passing by.

"Good morning. I am Aglaia Gheraldini, I was supposed to meet with ..."

"Ask at the reception"

"It was them who told me to go here ..."

"That's not my problem"

The nurse left. Aglaia found herself stranded in the aisle, now even more nervous at the perspective of actually approaching someone.

"Excuse me? I'm here for the internship ..." she tried asking a doctor.

"I'm busy"

"Excuse me, I wanted to speak with Dr Farella ..."

"Can't you read the signs over the door?!"

"Listen, move, you are in the way of everyone"

"Sorry"

They were right. Anxious as she was, she had stopped looking at the signs over the doors, and Dr Farella's office was in fact right in front of her. Nice going, Aglaia.

She could hear the muttering of the nurses and ostetricians around.

"Yeah, sorry ..."

"That's the intern? We will have to just endure her ..."

Good, she had already made a fool of herself. Desperately trying not to worsen the situation, she lightly knocked at the door, doing everything she could not to seem intrusive.

"Excuse me, I'm Aglaia Gheraldini. I had an agreement for an internship in this hospital with Dr Farella ..."

The middle aged man who was examining a bunch of papers at the desk glanced up and, upon actually noticing her, gave her a bright smile.

"That's me! Now, dear, I'm a little busy right now. Maybe we talk later? Go take a walk, maybe we'll get a drink together later and discuss this"

The baby blue of the sky clashed against the gold of the burnt grass in the heat of summer; the pinewood was closer and closer, promising cool, dark green shade, and Aglaia walked faster.

Finally, she reached her refuge from the merciless sun; she swiped her sweat, and sighed contently. Trekking was just what she needed after a long week of work.

She inspired the scent of pines and sea breeze. If she closed her eyes and focused she could hear, beyond the murmur of a nearby stream, the crashing of the waves on a beach. Maybe she would have gone for a swim later ...

She had fallen in love with Sardinia years ago, when she was a young teenager and had spent a summer there. She had been instantly smitten by the constant presence of the sea that found you no matter where you were, by the dry expanses of dry and reddish earth, by the night sky that held more stars than she had ever seen in her life.

Finding a stage in an hospital near Sassari had seemed like a blessing: to finally get to do her dream job, and enjoy the wonders of Sardegna during her scarce free time. Of course, now that she had seen the hospital, she was starting to have some doubts; but after all, nothing guaranteed her that an hospital in Milan or Rome would have been any better, and without being in such a beautiful place. She could still count herself lucky.

Another sound mixed with the stream and the waves. At first, she had troubles recognizing it: cicadas, birds? No, she realized as she walked closer: it was a human voice. It was singing something akin to a lullaby, in that Sardinian dialect that Aglaia didn't understand. A sweet, melancholic voice ... so melancholic. So much that it gave her chills. There was something wrong in those sad words, something unnatural ... what the hell was she thinking?!

It was just some lady singing. Judging by the direction of the sound, she was by the stream Aglaia was about to see, probably another trekker, maybe out with her child.

She would have seen her, gave her that friendly but detached greeting between two people who cross paths in the middle of nowhere, and continued on to the sea. Simple as that.

There was something in Aglaia that refused to do so. Something that paralized her, that screamed at her to don't go, don't go, don't go. It was ridiculous ... but still, that day, Aglaia avoided the stream and took another path to reach the sea.

"Now look to this one" the nurse said mockingly, pointing her gloved finger at the young woman writhing on the bed, her sweat and blood staining the otherwise pristine hospital bed. "She isn't even able to push"

"She might be too tired, she has been in labor by three days straight" objected Aglaia. "Maybe it's best if we ..."

"Who the hell do you think you are? You are here to learn the job, not to teach it to us!"

"Listen, we know what's it, okay?" intervened another nurse, trying to sound more placating. "We know what is an actual emergency and what is just some kid who desperately needs to get fucked at twenty and then can't handle the consequences. Right?"

The last part, along with a glare, was addressed to the patient, who cowered as much as she could, weakly asking for help.

"Aglaia, go call Dr Farella, we're giving her the episiotomy"

The hawk soared high in the deep azure of the sky; it circled a couple times, then launched itself somewhere past the point Aglaia could see. She smiled, and continued her trek.

The nuraghe should't have been far by now. She had already seen this one, back on that vacation that had sparked her love for Sardegna; this path was the same she had walked with her parents that time. A trip down memory lane, quite literally.

Now she would have had to pass a canal, cross a bridge, and then walk straight for another couple miles. She would have had her packed lunch there, rested a bit, taken some pictures, and then headed back. A day of perfect relax.

The cicadas were crying so loud that day, prompted by the intense heat. But amidst their choir, Aglaia could make up the running water of the canal, and - that song.

It was the very same song she had heard in her trek of two weeks before, the one who, she had to admit with some embarassment, had pushed her to run from her intended path. The same sad and sweet voice; the same incomprehensible lyrics in Sardinian.

Again, Aglaia felt her skin crawl, but this time, she stood her ground. It was ridiculous! It was just a song, probably the favorite of some trekker who coincidentally took the same paths of her. There wasn't this much choice on an island, after all. It was beyond absurd to be scared.

This time she would have gone forward. She had to, to reach the nuraghe, and she wasn't about to renounce her trip because of some suggestion. Now she would have reached the canal, seen the woman, greeted her and passed by. And everything would have been fine.

Here she was. Bent on the canal, tan, a long aquiline nose, a cascade of black hair, brows furrowed in concentration on what she was doing; washing clothes in the water.

Really! Aglaia had never thought that there could still be someone who washed clothes by hand in water bodies. Maybe the woman was from a very backwards family ... or maybe, her washing machine had broken and she was trying to bear the situation with dignity, acting as if everything was normal.

Now closer, about to cross the bridge, Aglaia was about to shout a greeting, a wave, and then go on her path, when her gaze fell on what the woman was actually washing.

There was so much red. What once should have been a lavender nightgown was now painted by a big crimson stain in its middle, the blood dripping and painting the surrounding crystalline canal a light pink; next to the woman there was another indument, a damp baby suit, its color impossible to understand with all the blood that completely covered it.

A scream escaped from Aglaia's lips, and she immediately tried to suppress it. This was the aftermath of a crime. She knew what she was seeing, it was impossible for a human being to lose all the blood she was seeing on these clothes and survive ... especially the baby. This woman was trying to cover up a murder, she was violent, dangerous, and they were alone here ...

The woman turned to look at her, and the nightgown slipped from her hands. Aglaia had to move, move, why had her body decided to freeze, what it had to do was run!

The woman screamed. The sound pierced Aglaia's hears, bringing tears to her eyes all by itself; it was different from anything she had ever heard even at the hospital, a cry of pure agony, despair and rage fused into one. Now she would have attacked her ...

She splashed Aglaia with the water of the canal. The young woman could barely elaborate on what an absurd, stupid move that was, that the liquid actually hit her face, and she fell down, screaming.

What should have been the barely warm water of a low canal felt like it was coming from all the rivers in Hell, a scorching thing that ravaged Aglaia's face, hissing and blistering on the spots of her face where it touched her.

Aglaia didn't even think: she scrambled to her feet, desperately trying to wipe out the liquid from her face and only managing to spread it further, and ran away, stumbling, falling, getting back up and running again, over and over, to her home.

Aglaia ignored the umpteenth message Dr Farella had sent her, asking her out. She would have had to see him in person anyway, et theh hospital, and tolerate his constant harassment. Not even the light disfigurement from the scalding water on her face seemed to deter him.

She had tried telling him she wasn't interested, and the answer had been to not be snobbish and an increase of the requests. She had tried, as politely as she could, to bring up the subject to the department head, but she had been completely ignored.

Nurses and obstetricians had made of her their personal stress ball, bursting out in screams at the minimal error or even without reason. And honestly, it was better like this, she could take it. It was a different question when they took it out on the patients.

Today it was another of such cases. Nurse Stefanini was making her wrath clear to a woman guilty of screaming too much during the expulsion phase. The poor woman was actually reining herself in, probably.

Especially because this labor was, once again, taking too long. Aglaia reached them, studying the track; the woman looked at her, at a complete loss, hoping in some kind of response.

Aglaia reached the nurse, avoiding to look the woman in her eyes. She showed her the results,

"The baby is under ..."

"Yeah, scream it for everyone to know!" huffed the nurse. "Do something useful and call Dr Paragnini, we'll need a Kristeller maneuver"

Aglaia shut up and ran to obey; the situation was even more serious than she had thought.

It seemed to take forever, finding Paragnini's office in the long white aisles that all looked the same, careful not to lose her way; as for the medic himself, he preferred finishing organizing his papers before, telling her to just wait. When she finally got back, the doctor in tow, the patient was gripping the metal bars on the bed with all her might.

"What is happening? What is happening?!"

"Hasn't the nurse told you?" asked Aglaia. She had been expecting to find her ready, scared, but aware of what was about to happen.

"Do you think one like her will understand?" Nurse Stefanini pointed at the woman, as if her appearence alone provided crushing evidence of her lack of wits.

Dr Paragini pressed all his weight on the woman's womb, causing her to cry in terror and surprise. Hadn't they debriefed her? It wasn't possible, the deontological code demanded informed consent!

"Aglaia, do you want to move?! Otherwise she'll never stop screaming!"

Aglaia ran, putting her own pressure on the woman's body. The maneuver, fortunately, was effective; two minutes later, the baby was out, placed at her mother's breast.

Aglaia felt relief washing all over her; she knew how dangerous this maneouver could be, the success was something to celebrate.

Still, she couldn't overlook the situation. Why had nobody asked for the patient's consent? What was she supposed to do in this situation, she couldn't expose the fact, she was just an intern, not even a doctor ...

"Excuse me" a feeble voice broke through her thoughts. "What do I ... how do I ..."

"Can't you take care of it on her own?" Aglaia immediately regretted her words. The patient seemed to make herself small, somehow smaller than the baby she held in her arms. No, she had to focus on her job. Not using vulnerable people as a stress anthidote, no matter how diffused the practice seemed to be in this hospital.

"Here, you held her like this. Do you feel strong enough to breastfeed her right now? Perfect. Here you go"

At least her social life wasn't limited to that damn hospital. Going around and chatting with other trekkers had given their fruits: Aglaia was now taking a nice stroll on a small town along a girl named Marina, who lived there.

It was a lovely place, a small fishermen town, the walls of ths buildings old and battered from the wind and sea, the smell of salt penetrating everything. Marina wasn't particularly impressed, having spent all her life there; she was talking about doing a 'decent' trip to Cagliari, as soon as they would have had enough coinciding free time. Aglaia didn't mind. Anywhere was fine, as long as it was in Sardinia and far away from the hospital environment.

All of a sudden, Marina's bored expression turned into a smile, and she strode forward.

She reached an elderly woman, so curved and signed that she seemed to have been sculpted into an old olive trunk; the two started talking in Sardinian dialect, so that Aglaia didn't understand a word and ended up standing there awkwardly, trying not to look too confused and hoping her friend would have remembered her existence.

"Sorry!" said Marina after a few minutes. "Aglaia, this is my grandmother. She was going to the marketplace, too"

"Nice to meet you" said Aglaia, offering her hand.

Marina's grandmother took and shook it, but her gaze remained fixed on Aglaia's burns. The young woman felt put under intensive examination, wondered how to react without sounding rude, and then the woman said something in Sardinian, still looking pointedly at her.

"She asked if you have met a panas" explained Marina. Ah, so her grandmother was of that old generation that didn't know standard Italian and only spoke regional dialects; Aglaia smiled kindly at her and then turned to her friend.

"What is a 'panas'?"

"An old legend we have around here. It says that a woman who dies in childbirth is condemned to wash her and her baby's clothes in penance, for a very long time. If someone interrupts her work she has to repeat by start, so if it happens she will get angry and punish the culprit by spraying boiling water on them" Marina pointed at Aglaia's blisters.

Aglaia stood still for a few seconds, trying to retreve her voice; when she did, what got out of her mouth was: "Penance for what? Did they murder their children?"

"No, no, just for dying in childbirth. You see, it makes them 'impure'. Ancient Sardinians weren't very progressive, sorry"

It wasn't possible. It just wasn't possible. It must have been a coincidence, maybe some criminal had exploited the legend to get rid of the evidence and the water had been made hot by some totally explainable means ...

No, that sounded like Scooby Doo. Hell, the whole reason Aglaia still hadn't told anyone what she had seen was because she couldn't explain it! But there had to be a way, there just had to be a rational explaination for everything, she couldn't have met a ghost!

She forced a laugh. "Sorry to disappoint. I have these because my roommate let fall a pot of boiling water and I got drops on my face"

"Look at her, she looks like she's about to birth a frog!"

Aglaia, passing hurriedly by the aisle, had absolutely no cointext for this exclamating by one of the nurses. Her next charge, however, was to bring an oxytocine phlebo right in that very room, so that she had a privileged view over the issue.

The woman was as white as the hospital walls, but the bed she was on was a disaster. Her nightgown and the sheets were stained, dripping in subtle rivers of blood and an unidentified brown-green liquid. Had she defecated during the birth process? It was normal, why had the nurse even commented on it ...

No, that wasn't normal. That was too fluid, and the labor too early on ... that was her amniotic fluid. Her waters just broke, and instead of crystalline as they should, they were that mud color that had caused such ilarity in the nurses.

Ilarity, her ass! She had studied it over and over back in university. Meconium inalation syndrome: the child was suffering from a lack of oxygen, it had expelled his meconium in the amniotic fluid, and now risked breathing it, worsening the situation. If they did nothing, it would have suffucated.

The nurses were chatting among themselves, clearly not intentioned to do anything and just leave the poor woman to her own devices. She was trying to push, she was painful to see; Aglaia forced herself to stay impassible, to stay clinical, and still the result of her examination was anything but comforting.

She ran outside, finding Dr. Farella.

"Doctor, this is urgent. We have to do a caesarean"

"We don't have to do anything"

"Doctor, you haven't seen the situation, the amniotic fluid is ..."

"She can still terminate the birth naturally and it's better like this. Besides the fact that it saves us a lot on the costs, it will help her get her lesson. She had her fun with her legs open, now she gets the consequences"

Impure women, huh?

"The one waiting outside is her husband, not even the Damn Mother Church would have anything to say on that ... and even if he wasn't, that's not our business to judge, we have to ..."

"You have to shut up and listen to the people who actually have experience. She's carrying out the process naturally, and that's it"

It was only an emergence caesarean that prevented the disaster that day. The woman was cut open and stitched back up rather carelessly, of course without asking for her informed consent. The baby had to be brought to reanimation, but he was ultimately saved.

The doctor handed him to the patient, who laid exhausted and tearful among her own sweat, blood and other bodily fluids, and declared that she was clearly about to be a horrible, abusive mother, seen how she had already refused to suffer even to give birth to her son.

At last, Aglaia was due for a weekend back in Milan, with her family. It had been a long time since she had seen her parents, after all, so she could take a couple days away from the mountains and the beaches of Sardinia.

She stopped to a bakery before boarding her plane on Friday night: some traditional sweets were just what was needed to placate anxious, 'you-never-call' parents. A small package of sebadas would have done ...

And there, at the cash register, she saw the woman at the canal.

She recognized the tan, the long hair, the long and aquiline nose. The only difference was the expression: she was smiling, a bright smile that would have lit up a room.

Inside a framed picture.

The man at the register noticed her gaze. "Did you know my daughter?"

"Eh? No, I had just mistaken her for someone I know"

The man smiled, a small, wistful thing. "How old are you? Twenty-five? She was a little younger than you, in that picture"

The smile vanished. "She was pregnant, back then. It doesn't show, because I cut up the picture to focus on her smile, and not how ..."

He trailed off.

"I am sorry. Did something happen?"

"She died. Complications from childbirth. Neither her nor the kid made it. Weird, right? You think these things happened long ago, or maybe in some Third World country, instead ... there are people who don't believe me when I tell them, you know? Well, sure, you never expect that it will happen to people you love."

"I am terribly sorry. It's awful"

"The hospital was investiigated, of course, but ... well, they didn't find anything. Said that the doctors had done everything possible, and ... I'm sorry, now I am rambling. I shouldn't throw this story on every customer that passes by"

"It's no problem, really"

As she exited from the bakery, Aglaia decided that it had to be a scam. There were no other explainations. Maybe someone had sent the woman at the canal, and then the picturee, to conspire against her, to ...

Who was she kidding? She wasn't the target of a conspiracy. She was a perfect nobody, with no actual work and very little money to her name, living with a roommate in a tiny apartment. Nobody had anything to gain from her.

But then, what was this story?

The following days were spent in research. She actually spent very little time with the parents she had gone to see: her time was consumed by internet searches for the 'panas'.

She actually found her with no problem: a couple local newspaper had talked about her death. Her name was Arianna Lanzetti, she had been twenty-one, and already married. She also found the woman's former social profile: a Facebook page now submerged by messages of condolences and remembrance.

This was insane. This was all insane. And maybe she was going actually insane, because a particular idea was starting to take shape in her mind.

Usually, it was discomforting to be ignored as 'just an intern', Today, it was a blessing.

There weren't many women in the delivery room in that day and hour; if the hospital personnel did they job, they could have easily taken care of them without needing her. They probably wouldn't have even noticed.

Dr Farella, as befitting of his great intelligence, had left the computer on and logged into his hospital account; if he had returned too soon, Aglaia would have told him that Nurse Stefanini had sent her to check on a thrombophilic patient. if the nurse had denied, she would have played it as a misunderstanding. She could take it, she was used to everyone yelling at her and calling her incompetent.

She set on 'research file', and typed in Arianna Lanzetti's death date. The very same day as she should have given birth to her child.

There had been several births that day. Aglaia scrolled down, scanning the screen. Ludovica Fornasari, Vanessa Prosdocimi ... maybe Arianna Lanzetti had been in the care of another gynecologist ...

No. Here she was. Aglaia opened her file.

She hadn't known what to expect. Maybe some laconic report about the birth being more difficult than anticipated, due to 'lack of cooperation from the patient' and not, of course, from carelessness of the hospital personnel. She wasn't prepared to a horror story,

Arianna's baby was being expelled with the umbiilical chord wrapped around their neck. A critical situation, but not an uncommon one. All ostetrician personnel was prepared to deal with it. But they hadn't noticed. Farella, and everyone in attendance that day, had not realized the situation. Maybe Arianna had, she should have realized that something wasn't right. Probably, she had complained, tried to signal her fear. Surely, she had been laughed at.

They had seen too late, when the baby was already out, almost strangled. They had intervened in a hurry, doing a fretful episiotomy on Arianna, rushing to try and reanimate the baby, and it had been all useless. That baby had never drawn even one breath.

As for Arianna herself, her wound had been hastily stitched up, too badly: it had reopened, and she had been let alone for hours afterwards, with all the nurses avoiding her and the consequences of their mistake. Only hours later, at the insistence of the family, someone had checked and found out that she was dead.

It was almost too ridiculous to believe. Too absurd, too cruel. What that woman must have felt as she died, alone, without knowing what had been of her child ... Aglaia fought back tears. She felt like everyone would have discovered everything, if they had seen her in tears.

She drew deep breaths, in and out, in and out. Slowly, it worked. She felt suddenly very calm, completely in control. She had all the facts now, and she could act accordingly.

She had another plan now.

"I didn't take you for the type to do such things. To think you acted like a puritan! Not that I'm complaining"

Aglaia smiled through gritted teeth. She wouldn't have had to bear this act for long.

She looked up. Through the treetops shone the stars of Sardinia, so bright, so many. The sweet perfume of wet grass filled the air. The sound of the stream was closer and closer.

"Sooo ... do we get to it?"

"I know a better spot"

Farella huffed, but still followed her. The whole date had been insufferable: not only she had had to act like she was genuinely attracted by him, but he looked indignant that she hadn't jumped him yet!

As if she would let herself be touched by a murderer ... she still needed a little time. She still heard no song. At least, she could pretending she was getting cold feet.

No song. Farella put an arm around her waist. He would have accepted a no, right? They were alone in the forest by night, there was nothing that prevented him from - but his crimes were out of apathy and lack of care, she didn't know if he would have been capable of something as direct as to force himself on her ...

That thing she heard, was it the stream? A happy illusion or ... no, it was there, it was the panas' song!

She strode decisively towards the sound, leaving Farella behind.

"Hey, were are you going? Wait ..."

He was running after her. Good.

She removed her flashlight from the figure knelt over the water immediately, she didn't want to be the one to disturb her again. Just a moment, to make sure of where she was, then pointed the flash to the surrounding trees.

Farella wasn't smart enough to do the same.

"What the fuck ..."

The light showed Arianna's tan skin, her long, shiny hair, her aquiline nose. Her eyes were dark, fixed on the man - maybe she couldn't see him in the face, with that torch pointed towards her.

Aglaia directed her flashlight on him, fully illuminating his stunned visage.

The panas dropped her clothes in the stream and lunged. Aglaia had barely a flash of her long, thin arms protending towards them, and then she turned on her heels and ran, ran as fast as she could.

The screams echoed for a few seconds, then they were replaced by the splashing of water. After a few minutes, the lullaby resumed.

Aglaia sighed. Everything had gone well, and Arianna Lanzetti had received her justice.

She took the way home with a lighter step, turning her nose up to admire the beautiful sky of Sardinia, shining bright as she had never seen before.

The Carabinieri found nothing implicating Aglaia in the death of Dr Farella.

She was interrogated, of course; the 'gentleman' had bragged about their date with his friends, and the restaurant personnel could confirm that they had been there together the night of the 'tragedy'.

But she simply lied, declaring that they had parted ways after the dinner together: he had drunk too much and gotten inopportune, and she had dropped him, returning home by foot. Her roommate could attest to this, as she had seen her arrive walking alone from her window. Aglaia had been careful not to leave anything on the car that could be attributed to her, and in the end, they let her go without too much of a fuss.

Farella's death was ruled as an accident: as Aglaia had said, he was drunk, so he had driven to the middle of nowhere, taken an ill-advised walk in the forest by night, slipped into the stream and drowned because of his impaired reflexes. He couldn't have been killed, they had found no traces of other human presences around the area where the corpse was found.

There wasn't much of a fuss about the death itself. Farella was given a tearful funeral with family and colleagues going on and on about what a great man he was, what an example to all doctors; once he was under the ground, he got only complaints because his sudden disappearence upset the turn system and they had to procure another gynecologist on short notice.

Aglaia got some nurses blaming her because 'if she hadn't left him all of this wouldn't have happened', but by now, she was used to ignore those complaints.

Life to the hospital returned to its dull, pathetic normality.

Nurses and doctors still took out their frustrations on the patients. Interventions were denied, informed consent not given. Many women left the place shaking, in tears, only comforted by finally having their children with them.

Aglaia did everything she could. She was comforting, kind; she explained the medical procedures that should have been executed; she made sure nobody was left alone for any extended period of time; she did everything in her power to notify the higher-ups of any possible problem with the births that her colleagues might have ignored.

It still wasn't enough. She was only an intern; she had little to no decisional power in there. She was the secondary stress ball after the patients. She only did what she could.

Take the situation to the authorities' attention seemed impossible. Arianna's death and the number of cops at Farella's funeral had made it clear: someone here had important protections. Even if alerted, they wouldn't have done nothing.

Aglaia did what she could. She was a needed comfort to the patients; she never answered to the abuse the rest of the medical equipe hurled at her and instead offered smiles and little presents. She was just a treasure to have around.

And sooner or later, someone else here would have accepted her offer to go for a trek to the nuraghe, passing by the old canal.

#my writing #writing attempts #writing experiment #horror #horror stories #tw: death #tw: childbirth #tw: blood mention #tw: murder #tw: obstetric violence

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late-to-the-party-99 · 10 months

Text

Shattering Ivory Keys, Part Two

Here’s part two to my retelling of Aphrodite and Hephaestus’ marriage! (Apologies for it taking so long; I went through some big life changes.) You can read part one here. Part three should be out sometime later this week!

——————

Ares interrupts them at breakfast the following day. He barges in as they’re cutting into their teganites, smoke curling off his golden helmet. A muscle jumps in his jaw. Without a word, he draws his spear and points it at Hephaestus’ throat.

Aphrodite fumbles the pitcher of honey, splattering the tablecloth. “What—”

Hephaestus puts his fork on the table. Calm, he tells himself. Stay calm. “I take it that you passed Aglaia on your way over here.”

Ares tilts his head.

Aphrodite grabs Ares’ wrist. “She was going to give you my message. It’s alright. I’m alright, see?”

Hephaestus doesn’t know his brother very well. But he can see the way his sword hand trembles, the way he lets Aphrodite tug on his wrist. He guesses Ares is not only angry, but also afraid. Guilt surges in his stomach.

“I’m not going to stop either of you from seeing each other,” Hephaestus says. “Alright? That’s the message. The marriage was wrong and a mistake I’ve sworn to undo.”

Aglaia erupts into the room then, breathless and missing a sandal on one foot. “Lord Hephaestus — speaks — the truth,” she pants. “He — gods — he swore it on the River Styx.”

Aphrodite rubs her thumb over Ares’ wrist. “He really did.”

Ares looks at them all. Something crumples in his face, a rumbling sigh passing through his lips. He slings his spear back over his shoulder. “I see.”

Aphrodite lets go of Ares’ wrist, crossing her arms.

“I apologize,” he continues after a beat, his voice rough and deep. “I shouldn’t have upset you or Aglaia.”

Hephaestus doesn’t miss the absence of his name in that apology. He doesn’t mind it. If he’s frank with himself, he thinks he deserves a fright or two for what he’s done. He smooths down his tunic and sinks back into his chair.

Aphrodite must see Hephaestus’ acceptance in his face, turning back to Ares with a nod. But to his surprise, Aglaia straightens up from catching her breath. “Lord Hephaestus deserves an apology as well, Lord Ares.”

Ares blinks at her before leveling a flat look at Hephaestus. “I suppose so. After all, you can’t uphold your oath if I gut you first.” Hephaestus stares at him, then at Aglaia. It is all far, far more than he deserves. His eyes start to burn. Gripping his knees, he forces down his emotions for another time. “I understand.” “You couldn’t trust that I was alright?” Aphrodite asks Ares, poking him in the arm. “It’s been days,” Ares says, some of the tension returning to his shoulders. “I said I’d tell you if I was in danger.”

That makes Hephaestus feel nauseous, but he understands. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t contact each other,” he says. “I... I was a coward. I didn’t want to face this.”

“Maybe so,” Aglaia says. She drops into an empty chair at the table, folding one leg over the other. “But we’re all here now. That’s what we should focus on.”

“Well said.” Ares pauses, then pulls out the final chair left at the table. “No need to retread old battles when there’s another ahead of us.”

Aphrodite smiles at him. “I love it when you talk strategy.”

Ares’ shoulders slacken. His golden breastplate settles against him, the straps no longer creaking at their buckles. “That’s Athena’s realm,” he says, but he’s smiling back — a red slash in his bronzed face, crooked teeth like boar tusks.

“Yes, but Athena doesn’t have any of the flair, the emotion.”

“The dramatics?”

“That too.” Aphrodite leans forwards, resting her chin in her hand. “You could beat all her precious playwrights in her city at their own game.”

Ares leans forwards too. “Really.”

Hephaestus’ chest hurts. He can’t help but feel the pull of the easy banter, the warmth of the attraction between them. He has no right to intrude on their connecting threads, but he wants some for himself all the same.

He winces. This is what you almost ruined, he tells himself. Don’t even think that you deserve anything like this.

“What did we just say about fighting one battle at a time?” Aglaia asks, pulling him from his thoughts.

Ares flushes. “And that’s why Athena talks strategy. I get distracted.”

“Sorry, dear.” Aphrodite gives herself a shake, brushing her hair over her shoulders. “Alright. What do we actually want to do about... this?”

A thought unfurls in Hephaestus’ mind. “Well.” He smooths his palms against his tunic, looking down at the table. “We can’t get the marriage annulled unless there’s a reason they’ll accept.”

“Yes?”

“And they really wanted this marriage. So it has to be a big, big reason.” Before he can stop himself, he adds, “A dramatic one.”

Why did you say that? What are you doing, getting in on their talk when they don’t—

But Aphrodite only snorts. There’s no sound of Ares’ spear being drawn. And Aglaia says, “You’re saying we should put on a play for everyone?”

He hesitates. He lifts his head, not wanting to believe it. But they’re all looking at him, open and willing. Aglaia is looking at him with a playful twist to her smile, leaning an elbow on the table in his direction. “I’d make for a lovely Chorus.”

“All of them?” Hephaestus finds himself asking, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m a goddess of beauty. There’s nothing more beautiful than giving an audience plenty of voices.”

“I don’t know if we’ll need your services to that extent. I’ll keep it in mind, though.”

Aglaia laughs. Hephaestus feels the tightness in his chest loosen, the iron lock over his ribcage melt down. He doesn’t even care that Aphrodite is watching them with a furrowed brow. “What I have in mind is a long play,” he continues, “but I think it’ll be convincing.”

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healersadjust · 2 years

Note

Charity:

Does your OC believe in a higher or spiritual power which has love for them (or for their followers in general)?

Does your character have any particular prejudices? Do other people ever consider them bigoted or judgemental?

For both if possible please!

Thank you so much for the ask <3 Leonidas and Aki, coming right up!!!!

Aki

Aki believes in the twelve! She worships Menphina in particular. As a keeper of the moon, and with her tribe being somewhat disconnected, they had extra beliefs about the moon that she used to hold as well! Not anymore, after the events of endwalker, though they have grown quite a bit! Instead of believing the moon itself had love for her, she transferred that belief to Hydaelyn. Since Hydaelyn created the moon, she realized her beliefs were not false, just simply misplaced. She mourns the loss of Hydaelyn often, but is glad she still has the moon to comfort her.

Her trust in Menphina has waned somewhat. Not because Menphina did anything per se, but moreso because Aki does not believe Menphina has anything exactly in store for her. She is somewhat above that, in her head. Having seen the things she has, she places her faith more in herself and the universe, and Menphina is an afterthought.

As for her prejudices, she doesn’t really care much? Her adoptive family were from all different backgrounds, including a partial voidsent, so she does not normally care much where a person is from. However, that said, she will throw hands with anyone who looks down on others. Anyone who views themselves above the people around them? Yeah, she’s got beef. She is not judgmental until someone passes judgement on her or her friends first, and she will have some MEAN insults.

Leonidas

Okay, Leo’s relationship with religion is… rocky at best. He was saved by Azemeya and she gave him his version of the “echo” (its funky? and complicated) and also his gift for fire. However, he never asked for that. He wishes she had never intervened, and felt as though he was her pawn. He lost countless years of his life trying to control his new abilities, and she did not lift a finger to help. He felt as though he was just some experiment, meant to be discarded after she saw the results. He hurt countless people and wildlife because of her “gift” and he will never be able to fix that. He can’t bring those people back, and he blames her. He wishes he had died instead of them, and if she was to have poked her nose in at all, to have stopped the “accident” before it happened.

So, he knows the twelve exist, but he refuses to acknowledge them. Especially Azeyma. Meeting her again in Aglaia, he was angry. He couldn’t even fight her, and was only able to protect his party members from the flames. When they revealed it was a trick, and they didn’t actually want to hurt the group, he felt betrayed once again by her. He does not fault anyone who worships her, but she has always left a bad taste in his mouth.

As for his prejudices, he has a hard time with certain Viera actually. Anyone who conforms to the regular Viera lifestyle, with the typical jungle/forest rules and all of that, he struggles to feel sympathy for them. Following the rules got him into endless trouble, and he does not agree with them. Other than that, he is very accepting.

#endwalker spoilers #thank you for the ask!!!!!!!!#v time bb #aki mitsuo #leonidas corvell

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xlabxratsx · 2 years

Text

Aglaia Pass Episode 13 Satisfactio, part 1 under cut :

#its the chap im doing on black survival so figured id share #black survival #immortal soul black survival #tracy;talks

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libidomechanica · 21 days

Text

Condemn none

A kimo sequence

’ And half an hourly receive the air, oh, not his microscope, my hearts? Old represent my cheek.

To keep extreme ill-breeding strange of all the bonny ship, and gold, to climb the sounding my true.

Of Hero and Lucan, by heave a glow- worm shall not had for slave an atmospheres. Of friend.

One days are but thou know—and that wish I could be aware that weening the delight, says, Shalom!

I have way groaning, walking of light. As Goteherd pipe, and of Honour here freckled. In Spain?

Burnt each degrees gentleman, for fire! Cannot buy? As one which speak to thus: the diff’rence it was.

And with a stranger: as for his diseases, a pail of his once, in some her tongue. But forty?

May we past from Wolues, then, whose horn-handed on the strapped in the door, by death, and let me go.

The lark, ’tween the purple with some returning foplings, if you wake and circle. A message ethe.

Ay so, ’ she courtesies our wonder do you fifty Louis. And drew Blood or inanity?

So very turn again. Dare your redeem in gentle as a mower. Ask why then half retired.

Then—i never mind, our coming tower. Silvery bed has more difficult. That the renew!

And thy Heav’n, the stirrups, just like to him. And o’er for more! An’ it’s beautiful house; her beauty.

To such friendly fray, which makes the rolling innocence. And hoard, for mine. Of your chamber keeping?

Her beauteous provinces all shew him for; and some mystery. Lady, won’t, but then, youthfull flame!

By sun on wood where a double-damn’d forth seely she gazed awhile! He scarce went to Africa!

Though oppose. A voice, inviolably true. In a blooms each other; gratefull now, Hidalgo!

Glory, when they the names were old, if any perspective land, what you wept. Say some were embrace.

Poor Donna Inez dread, as the blood watch there’s the labour vade of those sort, and lo! Blind, old.

No, the priests may be dear, and shudder at a cheeks unprofanity and the astronomer.

Yet I loved a pleased to make a bed. Thou so apply, depart a corner. More—no more, that sleep.

’-Yes, that half-torn drapery science further everywhere! So when the acted of his patience.

At six, I said Cyril said: but a bitter in this misse not pass over cities like flame-hot.

Thy widows, Lady, who obey the liberties; neglected. Oblivion passionate love.

The abject twice I the mortality. His pass’d at first parts in shirt yellow hue wind blows low.

She knew him as soon’s she did binds her handle. Dabbling for all uncurl’d: pr’ythee quite enough opposite.

Et beneath fluorescent of a’. As then me? As fairy-gifts at least her e’e? They are riven!

She rose, which still, hoping t’ have late-writ letters? Tread lived beyond what I had, ’ he saw her three.

Ask me no more mode of jasper thou, unknown; unknown, we gives its earthly guest; a beauteous Bride.

Began it, I though on the until them feel the one hand, the second Foot. Is trite and fast;—oh!

She had an air and Lydia agree: but, doubt with a straw. I sometimes with an Hidalgo!

She was a metaphysics! Binding sagely fretwork to the heathy hills, the topic die.

And blue; and set their friends, they blind and maimed, peace! In silence scandals for less. A turbot for praise.

That prim, silence and swirled just be meek eyes. And I am fed. All you all, and kept with the night.

Situation I write which his jarring and then exclaim’d. Was before Alexis’ ashtray; there.

No ghostly haunt me not’ replied: we scarce be seene. Since she fell, is they master, a dashes rancke?

Which Aurora, in mine irregularity of some ne’er predilection. None love—O love!

Would you wept. The best inke Venus, or serious, and so witta-woo! Too slight of poverty?

Beyond time will excuse, without the wind blew loud, they fawn on trial. To fold, but slant in the fool?

— And horse, the Champak odours for Aglaia. When hound to each others the reader—she’ll let me go.

&When two strand. He is a journey. I have TWO of fire, transparents also her trim prepared me.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #167 texts #kimo sequence

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sanemyamen · 1 year

Text

People Counting System Market Analysis, Size, Growth, Competitive Strategies, and Worldwide Demand

Latest business intelligence report released on Global People Counting System Market, covers different industry elements and growth inclinations that helps in predicting market forecast. The report allows complete assessment of current and future scenario scaling top to bottom investigation about the market size, % share of key and emerging segment, major development, and technological advancements. Also, the statistical survey elaborates detailed commentary on changing market dynamics that includes market growth drivers, roadblocks and challenges, future opportunities, and influencing trends to better understand People Counting System market outlook.

List of Key Players Profiled in the study includes market overview, business strategies, financials, Development activities, Market Share and SWOT analysis are Axis Communications AB (Sweden),HELLA Aglaia Mobile Vision GmbH (Germany),InfraRed Integrated Systems Ltd. (United Kingdom),RetailNext, Inc. (United States),ShopperTrak (United States),Eurotech S.p.A. (Italy),Axiomatic Technology Limited (United Kingdom),Countwise LLC (United States),DILAX Intelcom GmbH (Germany),IEE S.A. (Luxembourg)

A people counting system with human information sensors using multisensing application, which is used for detecting the number of people passing a wide door. The sensor head module of people counting system contains one-dimensional eight-element array detectors made-up of the sheet-forming method with pyroelectric PbTiO3 ceramics, oscillating mechanical chopping parts and an IR-transparent spherical lens. It is set at the top of the wide door with the element arrays parallel to the movement directions of the passersby. Further, with the help of this people counting system using multisensing application, the number of people passing by a 200 cm wide door can be detected with more than 95% accuracy. Key Market Trends: Availability of Low-Price and Easy Set Up People Counting Systems

Opportunities: New Advancements in People Counting Systems Such as the 3d People Counting

Market Growth Drivers: Rising Need for People Counting Systems in the Transportation Sector

The Increasing Number Of Shopping Malls, Supermarkets, And Retail Stores

Challenges: Privacy Concerns and Location Inaccuracy in Wi-Fi- and Bluetooth-Based People Counting Technologies

The Global People Counting System Market segments and Market Data Break Down by Type (Bidirectional, Unidirectional), Application (BFSI, Commercial, Government & Defense, Healthcare, Hospitality & Entertainment, Retail, Transportation), Technology (IR Beam, Thermal Imaging, Video-based, Others), Component (Hardware, Software)

Presented By

AMA Research & Media LLP

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blacksurvivalnostalgichanges · 1 year

Note

what DID happen in that story with chiara and emma? i always wanted to play it myself but i never managed to save up enough and since you post a lot about them i figured maybe you could explain it to me

the aglaia pass?

if so i have a handy dandy link right here

youtube

#not a quote #answering asks #i've seen some other folks also archiving isbs stuff on youtube #but that one's my own aglaia pass recording #recorded all of them and posted it on youtube #still wish i'd thought of the codex because i keep being TORTURED by that #do you know how badly i wish i could remember if angelika has a surname?

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kritikapatil · 2 years

Text

Global People Counting System Market Growing Popularity and Emerging Trends in the Industry

HELLA Aglaia Mobile Vision GmbH (Germany)

InfraRed Integrated Systems Ltd. (United Kingdom)

RetailNext, Inc. (United States)

ShopperTrak (United States)

Eurotech S.p.A. (Italy)

Axiomatic Technology Limited (United Kingdom)

Countwise LLC (United States)

DILAX Intelcom GmbH (Germany)

IEE S.A. (Luxembourg)

The Increasing Number Of Shopping Malls, Supermarkets, And Retail Stores

Challenges: Privacy Concerns and Location Inaccuracy in Wi-Fi- and Bluetooth-Based People Counting Technologies The Global People Counting System Market segments and Market Data Break Down by Type (Bidirectional, Unidirectional), Application (BFSI, Commercial, Government & Defense, Healthcare, Hospitality & Entertainment, Retail, Transportation), Technology (IR Beam, Thermal Imaging, Video-based, Others), Component (Hardware, Software)

Presented By

AMA Research & Media LLP

0 notes

bride-of-the-monster · 2 years

Conversation

Hades: I think Aglaia likes you.

Hephaestus: Ha, what makes you think that?

Aglaia: *passing for the 14th time with a goofy smile and dreamy look on her face* H-hey Hephaestus.

Hephaestus: ....

Hades: ....

Hades: Well, I have my way.

#Greek Mythology #Hephaestus #aglaia #aglaea #hephaestus and aglaia #Hades #incorrect quotes

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survivalsts · 2 years

Text

me: unlocks next scenario in aglaia pass ep1

me: JACKIE WHAT

#shes insane i love her #violence tw #also sadomasochist jackie real bye #;maybe the real lab rats were the murders we made along the way. (ooc)

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swatheford · 2 years

Text

chapter four sneak peek!

here it is! a little snippet from chapter four! keep in mind that this clip is from a path that comes with a snarkier and blunt mc! it’s very much exposition (mainly because we’re still in the exposition stage) but this is mc’s first interaction with veillan and its politics, isadine in particular. (who is such a blast to write by the way) hope y’all enjoy!! :)

Hewitt leads you down the hallway adorned with oil paintings of landscapes and abstract shapes. Each step they take carries a contained intensity.

“Right now the council is in session at the very head of the table is the Chief of Light, Isadine Aglaia. Address her as Your Iridescence.”

“Iridescence?” You chuckle.

“Remarks like that won’t fly in there.”Hewitt shoots you a stern glare before continuing their lecture. “Once you step in there, you need to keep all of your comments to yourself. I know it’ll be hard, but she’s the most important person here. It’s crucial to leave a good impression.” Hewitt turns left and crosses their arms.

“How did she become Chief?”

“The role was given to her after her work in the Siege of Darkness. It’s not passed down through lineage. Not since…” They trail off and you nod in understanding.

Hewitt clears their throat. “The legislation is comprised of four hailing families who work as advisors for the Chief. We’re the only ones who can harness light.”

“We?”

“My family is one of them.” Of course. How could you almost forget the light show from earlier?

The mahogany doors loom over your figure. Two women clad in black suits, stand on either side of the door.

Hewitt stands up impossibly straighter and gestures you to do the same.

“Any last minute questions?” “Yeah, it’s a pretty small one. Where do I fit into all of this?”

Hewitt sighs, “Never mind all that, you’re about to find out.” The guards push open the door to reveal figures seated around a glass table, a glimmering chandelier hanging above it.

At the sound of your entrance, everyone looks towards you and stands up. At the very end of the table is a woman with dark brown hair that cascades down her back. A delicate golden gown is clad onto her warm skin. The fabric of her dress seems to ripple with even the lightest of movements.

She’s serene and radiates a sense of calm. Yet she’s stoic and you’re unable to read her. You could only imagine that this is how Hewitt sees themself.

A headpiece sits atop her head, a gold starburst. She bows to you.

“Welcome, your Divinity. It’s an honor to meet you.”

ooooh suspense! cliffhanger!! i wonder what happens next??

#sneak peek #secrets of swatheford #stf

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