#It's actually disgusting how much one bad piece of writing can ruin a character forever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scripted-dalliances · 5 years

Text

Rest In Peace: Chapter One

Title: Rest In Peace

Chapter: 1

Summary: A part of Faithless Fairy Tale, a more in depth look at how they brought Laura back to life. Appearance of old faces, creation of new ones and if you’re looking for canon, it left a long, long time ago. If you squint you might be able to see some pieces from the book.

A/n: This is less a labor of love and more like a violent attempt to get this beast of a story out of my head. I attempted to shave and shape it into something other people might be able to read and enjoy. Did I succeed? I honestly don’t know, this is what happens when I’m left to edit by myself. If it’s trash, I apologize.

“All you need is someone to believe. Really believe. And maybe a new story, right? A reinvention. A rebirth.” - Faithless Fairy Tale

Laura promises pretty things out of her wicked dead mouth, and to a degree he already believes them. Why wouldn't he, after watching her slay Grimnir with his own blade to save the likes of him?

Make no mistake, he's not deceived by her, he hasn't forgotten who she is. Mad Sweeney knows the mettle of Laura Moon, even minus the stolen war god’s blade and his lucky coin. He is not blinded by her one act of mercy to think she isn’t the same woman who crushed his balls in her palms like fucking walnuts.

Who huffed pesticide under hot tub tarps and crawled out of her own grave.

He is not stupid.

She is a bitch, she is a crass little thing, but there isn't enough strength in his bones to deny she inspires him. To anger. To stand against the tide. To lower himself right down to her level; to tussle in the mud of blasphemies, insults and filth. Everything about her, pulls and demands something of him. Whether good or bad, whether it is her's by right or not, he hands it over.

(He does it with hard hands, with spite and bitterness. With love.)

The sirens of old could sing their pretty little hearts out, but it's only Laura's voice calling him a pussy that could drive him overboard. The reason unclear; to prove her wrong, to chase her, or just so he could drown himself and be done with her.

Not even he knows.

(So of course he agrees.)

Mad Sweeney sighs deeply, a man condemned to be saved and hangs his head.

“Yeah, alright you mad bitch. Let's hear your theory.”

It takes work. Scratch that. It takes a whole fuck ton of work. Most of which starts with research, that Laura herself demands he be involved in.

The deal is this: She will pray to him, not the old fashion way mind you. With tiny offerings of milk and bread, sweetened by faith. Laura has grand plans, she'll write a book, she'll go on tours reading to kiddies and to anyone who listens.

She promises to sue General Mills for defamation of character if they let her.

She will do it until someone else proves to do it better, and then her part of the deal is done. Problem is she'll only do that if he helps brings her back to life in the first place. Properly this time, in her words. No half-assed plans or maybes.

(His part no surprise, is the difficult part)

Laura of course makes it even more complicated. Refuses to go into this blind, ignoring Mad Sweeney's advice that this will only slow them down. She needs faith, not answers to a bloody pop quiz.

Ostara does the best she can to help, giving them access to her many libraries filled to the brim with books on resurrection, from the gods that bestow it and several ones that involve the opposite. Nestled in many of them are testaments to her growing bitterness. Written in the margins with hot pink ink, little notes of what is a lie, what is a cop out and who took credit where none is due.

She is one of the kinder goddesses, there's more love in her heart than not, but the years of abandonment has made spite grow in her like weeds. Perhaps that's why she takes a liking to Laura's plight, she knows intimately what it's like to be buried and forgotten, to emerge from that grave and still stand. Maybe in the shadows instead of the light, but still there regardless.

Ostara does what many of the patrons of faith have done before, when the faith becomes dry and thin, she makes the best of it. After all, start asking for more than what is owed is what started a war, and she has seen what comes from that.

They all did.

Little Laura Moon, with a stolen blade and a heart made of stone. Who saw new gods and old, strong and weak alike and found them all lacking. It is in her, they have seen the true face of the faithless, the mortals who make or break them, and an end they can not escape.

Whether she knows it or not, Laura has become a judgment no god wishes to cross just yet, and that's perhaps another piece of the puzzle why Ostara gives them so much help. She never says as such, never says a single double-edge word to Laura or Sweeney, but still in rankles on him. The not knowing.

“This is more than what you owe me.” Sweeney tells Ostara, one afternoon when Laura has buried her head in some ancient tome -probably in a language she can't even understand- and isn't paying attention to him. It's not a secret that he's cashing in a favor from the goddess for just being here, but he feels like it's asking a lot. To lean on her good heart, her open doors and know that a storm will hit sooner or later.

(Grimnir might be dead, but the war is far from over. There are still the new gods, the old bitter ones and a whole bunch of fucking traps the old bastard set up in case of his end, that will have to be dealt with.)

“You stopped me from ruining what I loved most.” Ostara tells him, with a soft haunted look, “Too long I've been harboring this...resentment. We all have, but what for? The old days are just that. Old. Maybe I miss the power, but stealing spring is on par with a child throwing a tantrum for attention. That's not me. So, maybe I'll work a different angle, maybe it won't work.” She shrugs her delicate shoulders. “Either way, I'm going to do it as myself. I'm going to honor all that belief, from the first believers that made me a goddess, who were the first to pray to my name, from those who kept true even when the rest of the world didn't. I can't turn my back on those chapters of my story. Otherwise, who am I?

He doesn't have an answer, it's too soon to be a bastard and remind her of all the fears that drove her to Odin's side in the first place. The weakness, the abandonment and death. Was she ready for that? Were any of them? This isn't a job, there's no step below god, either you are or you aren't, and then you're gone from this world.

Sweeney looks over at Laura Moon, with her moldy flesh, stitched together with cheap glue, bits of metal and string like some sort of bastardized dollar store version of Frankenstein. With all ten of her nails cracked and peeling, the heavy stench of her rot that floats with every breeze; makes even his iron stomach clench and roll, how it lingers as a constant reminder of her late state of decomposition. As if it wasn't obvious when she constantly had to pull maggots out of her ears, mouth and nose.

Maybe Ostara has the right frame of mind.

To keep true to yourself or accept a true end.

There are worse things than death after all.

The weirdest part of all this, you know besides the slaying of Grimnir by a dead girl, of him playing fucking librarian and taking tea with the goddess of Spring while a storm builds; is watching Shadow Fucking Moon blush for Ostara.

It's so fucking weird that he can't even insult the bastard for it.

He'll just sit there silently, watching as the two canoodle -and there is no other words for it, because Shadow will be polite as a nun, and Ostara will just sit as close as she can with a beaming smile. They whisper and giggle like children do when they have a crush and Sweeney doesn't even know where to start with how fucked up any of this is.

It also is fucking awkward as shit for him, because it's not just him in the room when this happens. Laura is there too. Making it a test, a competition of strength of will between him and the bitch dead wife. Whoever had to leave the room first in disgust, lost.

He lost every god damn time.

Whatever happened to her heart when Shadow failed to believe in her over Grimnir (just for a second, for one painful second, but to the dead that’s forever), has either frozen it or broke it. She doesn't mope or cry, thank Christ above, but she doesn't act jealous either. She is hell bent on other things. Like bringing herself to life.

And testing him with her stupid theories.

He hates it as much as he delights in it.

“Kiss me. Ginger minge.” She demands, hands on rotted hips and dull eyes looking up into his, with absolute venom even as she attempts to flutter her lashes and smile up at him. Shit, she just might actually spit acid at this point if he dared comment about how terrifying she looks.

“Fuck off, no.” He tells her. He doesn't have a point to prove, he just doesn't want to do it.

Not like this.

He drops the book he was not so secretly not reading, and childishly kicks at a pile near her in his attempt to get away. Moving to a different room to keep a stupidly long table between them. Not that it would do much good. She still has his strength, all his luck, and she all she has to do is get one hand on him and he's a dead man. Ha.

“You said you wanted to test my theory!” She screeches like a banshee at his retreating back.

“That was before I knew it was fuckin' batty!” He shouts right back. “That was before you started acting all sweet -horrifying by the way, thought your brain had literally rotted out of your fucking ears! Acting all delicate and soft, telling me to kiss you. Jesus fuckin' Christ, no woman! NO!”

Laura chases him around the awkwardly large dining table, and he won't deny he smiles a bit, when her hip catches a sharp corner and curses at him like it's his fault.

“Well, excuse me for trying to be nice. I thought it would make this easier!”

“Well, you thought wrong, dead wife.”

It's at this, she snaps. Honest to god, snaps, and flings herself in his direction like a damned hellcat.

Sweeney attempts to run away, but she is small and quick, with hands like a fucking honey badger on crack. Her fingers claw into his shoulder, etching into the jean material like it was nothing but silk. Once she has him there, it's a losing battle, as she clings in with the rest of her body soon after.

They fight all the way down. He attempts to throw her off, but she digs her sharp knees into his ribs. Hard enough to bruise, right until she has him on his back, with her legs clutching down on his sides like steel clamps.

With no tenderness, her clammy hands are gripping his head, all the fingers braced to keep his skull still. Forcing him to look at her as she struggles to plant one on him.

“Let.Me.Kiss.You!” She growls, leaning in only to find him squirming more. She gets his nose, his beard and cheek, ghosting over each but never for long enough. “Are you going to turn into a fucking little toad or something? Christ, I am not asking for your virginity, princess. Just a damn kiss!”

Sweeney tilts his head, strains his neck and wiggles like a dying fish, calling her every name in the book and then some that aren't. He does it in English and Gaelic; all between his gritted teeth but none of it moves her. In the end she claws to keep his face down, digging her razor blade nails into the flesh of his cheeks until he screams.

“Fine! FUCK! I said fine, dead wife! DO IT!”

Laura releases her grip and glares down at him, gets close enough for him to gag slightly on the scent of death and decay that surrounds her -but she doesn't kiss him.

“First tell me why you are acting like such a prude over a single kiss.”

“Oh. Sweet mother of Christ above. Does it matter?”

Laura smirks, and proceeds to squeeze with her thighs around his middle. He screeches something foul, and is seconds away from feeling his guts burst like a fucking water balloon when she eases back. Planting her ass on his hips with no shame.

He will deny it until he is fucking blue in the face, but he likes her weight. Her strength. All wrapped up in a tiny package.

“Tell me or I will literally squeeze it out of you.”

“And they say romance is dead.”

Laura clenches, her face smug when a second later he is screaming once more.

(What he doesn’t know is that she likes when he screams, likes the way he bristles and burns, there is something beautiful in the way he strains so hard against her that the veins in his neck pop and pulse.)

“ALRIGHT YOU FUCKIN' MAD BITCH, I'LL SING. I'LL FUCKIN' SING. NOW STOP BEFORE I PISS MYSELF!”

Laura does, because ew.

Delighted in getting her way once more, she is content to wait for him to catch his breath. Merely tracking the beads of sweat on his brow and the way they trickle into his flaming red hair.

“…ah…fuck…” he pants. Licking his lips while looking away from her. Seemingly shutting his eyes in pain, more pain than he was mere seconds ago in. “I didn't want to kiss you…like this. With you making it all business and shady like, like it's a fuckin' handshake.”

“Oh.”

#rest in peace #madwife #mad wife #mad sweeney x laura moon #mad wife fic

32 notes · View notes

unlicensedlobotomist · 5 years

Text

Caged Larks Do Not Sing

Chapter 2- Caller ID

(ao3 link)

Previous chapter ~ Next Chapter

WARNING: Depictions of violence, major character death

Mornings like these were the kind Saihara liked. It was quiet, the sun was warm and his coffee tasted good. It wasn’t rare having a quiet morning like this: most people didn’t come in till around ten or eleven. He had wondered if he should change his hours of nine to five to eleven to seven.

He wanted to say he hated being a detective, but that wasn’t exactly a true statement. He didn’t like his job, he was unhappy more often than not with it. Saihara had always wished he could find the inspiration to love his work, to have a passion for it, but he couldn’t bring himself to do either. He was passionate about the elements of his work. He loved mystery, he loved solving puzzles and putting pieces together.

He hated what those pieces could do to real human lives.

It stressed him out, trying to figure out a way to tell a wife her husband not only had a mistress but also had 3 other marriages, each with their own set of children. Then to tell a young man that the company he invested in was not only fake, but was actually his friend scamming him for millions. Saihara never felt anyone left his office happier than when they came.

Most final meetings ended in screaming. Saihara had learned over the years to not take them as personally as he did in his youth. They aren’t actually mad at you, his therapist had once told him. They’re upset at their own unhappiness. Saihara had made sure to tell himself that whenever someone cut too deep with their words. He’d just let them yell, nodding and saying “I understand how upsetting this is, I can refer you to some of my contacts on how to proceed.” Most of the time, he’d be taken up on the offer, other times he’d be cursed at further for insinuating they couldn't handle this on their own.

Mysteries were so much simpler in books; and solving those mysteries didn't hurt anyone real, and they were fun. His uncle had once suggested that he try writing, and he had, but he fell short on creativity. Not only that, but the action of sitting at his desk and trying to type out a short story just made him think of his father. He decided writing was simply not something he was up to.

So he sat in his office instead. Waiting for a client to call or walk in and disturb the serenity of the room.

Saihara wished someone with a lost cat would walk in once and awhile. His uncle used to have him deal with those cases a lot in middle school, and more often than not he found a very upset cat who had gotten out and had been trying to get back in. His uncle thought those cases were beneath him as a serious detective, but they made Saihara happy.

He also wished that once in a while a friend would walk through the door and invite him out to lunch. That hadn't happened in years, though-- it wasn't that he didn't have friends, but… everyone had lives. Many friends he had made over the years had disappeared with time-- some had moved, while others had just lost contact. It made him sad, but he knew it was inevitable in some sense. People change, friends move on, the world spins.

He remembered a post someone once shared on social media. It had said a study had found people could have 150 friends at a time. Saihara didn't believe that. No one could have more than say… ten, or maybe twenty friends. Saihara had a hard enough time keeping track of five people, two of which were his own aunt and uncle.

Saihara stood from his desk chair, going to the kitchenette in the corner of the office to retrieve another cup of coffee. He had no cases to attend and thus had taken to, more or less, messing around in his office for the day. He had expected at least two calls today-- a divorce lawyer and a high school classmate.

The lawyer, who he periodically sent clients to, had wanted to discuss his recent case. He was nice to chat to, but he rarely saw him outside of his office. Once in awhile, they would go out to dinner as a thank you to Saihara for getting so much evidence. He was a decent man, Saihara would even call him a friend on some occasions, but they didn’t talk often enough to solidify such a relationship.

Then there was his classmate. Every Saturday, he would look forward to the familiar ringtone of his personal cell. They would sometimes only be able to talk for a few minutes, sometimes for a few hours, but it was always an enjoyable time for him. Often times, he had found himself silently listening to the words. The vibrant energy was something Saihara looked forward to, they embellished the most mundane of activities and made them sound exciting that even he couldn’t help but see wonder in the simple acts. He wished he could be closer, and hear everything in person. Phone calls were the best he could do though, and Saihara enjoyed every minute of them.

Saihara had been half way through pouring his coffee when his cell rang through the office. Odd, he thought as he sipped at the lukewarm drink. This is pretty early for a call. He shrugged it off though, figuring maybe his friend was busy later that day and this was the best time to call. He made his way quickly over to desk, retrieving the flip phone from his coat pocket in a practiced fashion and opening it to his ear.

“Akamatsu, how is Berlin-”

“Huh? It’s Kaito. Shuichi, Listen, I… I need your help.”

-----

That Friday night had become a blur, and Momota’s was still reeling over it. He had laid down onto the metal bunk of the cell to try and lessen his headache, both from the approaching hangover and he mess he found himself in. He was still trying to figure out what had occurred.

Momota had stared at Ouma’s body for what seemed like forever. He lie so still underneath the kotatsu, Momota was certain what he was looking at was a wax figure. Carefully, he leaned down into the bloody mess, his pants soaking in the top layer of gore that had yet to dry onto the hardwood. His mind went blank for a moment. He wasn’t sure what to do. All his astronaut training and he wasn’t sure what to do. He carefully laid his hand onto Ouma’s cheek and…

It still felt warm.

Anger rose in Momota’s chest, glaring with disgust at the body on the floor. “This… This isn’t a funny joke, Kokichi!! You can’t… You ruined this blanket with this cheap shit!!” He received no response to his shouts, which only made him angrier. He began to violently shake Ouma. “What?! Did you fall asleep in the middle of your prank?! Wake up! It’s not funny!!” He lifted him from the floor, holding him him up by the ends of the ugly haori he wore. The once gaudy orange and green had been stained an ugly rust color. He looked him over, wanting to toss him immediately upon the sight.

“You even ruined my slippers! I really liked those!! What the hell is your problem?!” Momota tossed Ouma back onto the floor, which caused a sickening crack to be heard throughout the house. It made Momota stop, looking back down at the Ouma’s body. He… He thought Ouma would at least try to stop himself from hitting the floor so hard. He went back to the ground, carefully looking him over. “Hey, that… That sounded bad, are you okay?” Ouma continued to not respond, and concern had taken the place of anger. He shouldn’t have thrown him down like that, he could have a concussion. “Come on, Kokichi. Get up, okay? I have a first…” His hand came in contact with his cheek again, the warmth was gone. The cold sent a shock wave through Momota’s whole body.

He went to pick him back up, softly shaking him. This… was just a prank. Ouma was pranking him, like he always did. This prank had just… gone too far. “Kokichi, come on. I’m not as mad anymore, wake up.” He set him down on his back, the open flesh more visible now. “I’m going to get the first aid kit, o-okay?” Momota’s voice hitched, he got up and hurried to his kitchen, his slippers leaving bloody prints behind him.

Momota was quick, retrieving his phone from his pocket and dialing emergency services. He held the phone between his shoulder and ear, trying to keep his composure. He rushed the kitchen, not bothering to even turn on the light.

“119, what is your emergency?”

“Hello? My… Ouma, he’s really hurt. I think he was playing a prank on me, and I dropped him. He hit his head, I need paramedics!”

The conversation continued as he searched his cupboard, pulling out the first aid kit in a quick fashion that sent cups and a few other items clattering to the floor. He bent down to pick them up, only to feel wetness. He lifted the wet object to get a better look: it was one of his kitchen knives. It was odd that it was still wet, but he set it back on the counter and hurried back to Ouma. He only half listened to the operator’s instructions on how to try and help, his mind already knowing what to do even while he wasn’t fully there.

Paramedics took what felt like forever to get there. Relief fell over Momota’s features at the sight of them though, but his relief was quickly replaced by confusion. They had both stopped dead at the door frame. Their eyes stayed locked on the the world famous astronaut, leaning over the former Ultimate Supreme Leader in a blood soaked display. Momota shifted uncomfortably and had begun to stand, but had stopped mid rise. Very carefully, the head paramedic pushed the man with her to hurry to the two. She turned away, and quietly spoke into her walkie-talkie.

“I’m going to need police back up, I think this may have been a murder.”

#saimota #kaito momota #shuichi saihara #kokichi ouma #new danganronpa v3 #violence #major character death

7 notes · View notes

theliquidinklife · 7 years

Text

Five days of poetry

Day One (The Eighth of September- Pablo Neruda): Instead of doing one of the questions, for now at least, I’d like to just talk about how I feel about the piece. Honestly this is the last day I writing about. I’ve started and stopped more times than I’d like to admit, erasing all the insincere words fumbling awkwardly from my mind through my tense fingers. It’s an absolutely beautiful poem, to that I will admit. The imagery is vivid and awe inspiring, but I am completely out of touch with it. I always feel slightly out of tune, out of step with it, no matter how many times I attempt to align myself. It took me a long while it try to figure this out. I blamed it on writer’s block, maybe a lack of sleep, but no it’s the poem and me. We just don’t fit. It’s blatantly obvious now that I’ve realized it. How could such an intensely passionate expression about joy and love really ever work with me? As a person that openly admits that I never really make none of my own work as my melancholy writes enough for the both of us, the feelings this piece gives off are the total opposite of what my brain is use to processing. It’s incredible really, how such a short poem has tired me so. That being said, I do have favourite part of the piece. “This day, the storm-driven ocean lifted us up in a kiss so exalted we trembled at the lightning flash and bound as one, fell, and drowned, without being unbound.” I picture this scene of two bodies, trapped in their individual waves, meeting as they crash into each other, suddenly bounded, and as the wave falls beneath them, the two bodies mold into the embrace of the other, becoming one, even as they are propelled into the deep ocean beneath them, drowning and not caring as they are with the other and the other is with them. It’s this interaction between the first two characters that demonstrates the profound love they have. No worries, no fears, just the two of them and nothing else. This is quite a literal way to visual it, but it is quite a pretty thing to think about nonetheless. I like the concept that while everything around them is stormy and treacherous, they are solid, they are sturdy, they are safe with the other. There is no other section of this piece that I feel an actual connection with quite a strongly. Yes, I along with others came to the conclusion that the end of this poem may indicate a child, but at that point, though the images still clear, they felt distant and so painfully far away, much too impersonal for me to fully grasp it. Maybe one day I’ll come back and revisit this piece, in a time nothing is expected of me and properly enjoy it, but that time has not yet come for me.  

Day Two (relentless as a tarantula- Charles Bukowski): I’ve got conflicting opinions about this poem. To some extent I agree with it. The world is an incredibly harsh place that never seems to want anybody being happy. Something always has to go wrong. Perfection gets tarnished by loss and anger. It can feel as if the entire world is out to get you at when you’re at your best. Other people not as fortunate as you in that moment, looking to bring you down so as be at the same level as them. I see that, definitely meaning that this piece does have some measure of truth for me. On the other hand I would have to say that I feel as if instead of the real issue being that it’s me against the world, it feels more as if it’s me, well against me. As I stated previously other people will want to ruin your happiness, but nobody ruins my happiness like me. I could be sitting at front table in some cafe in Europe and instead of feeling at peace, or at the very least content, often I get distracted by my own anxieties. “As long as there are humans about there is never going to be any peace for any individual upon this earth or anywhere else they might escape to.” What if this line is insinuating that human existence itself is the root of individual problems? What then? What would be the solution? The only clear response to this would be the eliminate this human existence, and though that would consequently eliminate all individual issues, it doesn’t really solve any of them. Now I know, I know, this most probably not how he meant for this line to be interpreted. It meant to follow along with the rest of the poem of basically, other people suck, but it’s where my mind wandered when I read it. I like how writing can instigate different ways of thinking in people. “All you can do is maybe grab ten lucky minutes here or maybe an hour there.” Happiness is fleeting. Everything is fleeting. Moments, feelings, people, ourselves. Nothing stays forever though sometimes we wish it otherwise. Even if someone, somehow, claimed to have found a way to be happy forever, then they’re lying. Forever isn’t happy, forever is terrifying. Ok lets say we find a way to forever that isn’t quite so bad, then there’s still the truth that happy turns into boredom just as still water turns into poison. If we were all perfectly happy all the time, then we lose interesting bits of life, the bits people like Bukowski write about, and I don’t think I could ever be truly happy with that.

Day Three (Nothing But Death-Pablo Neruda): When I first read this poem, I was thinking that death was described in three distinct, very different characters. I saw them as existing entirely separate as of each other, but after going over it several times, I discovered that in fact they were all entirely one being taking on different forms. Maybe I somewhat realized that in the beginning, but originally I thought it was just saying that death is all around us constantly, the end. It’s more complex than that I know now, and I’m glad for it. It’s funny to me actually, the poems seems almost nautical in nature. It’s speaks of drowning, ship wrecks, admirals and ports. The beginning of the piece does not seem to have Death as a character in it. It simply speaks of those that have succumb to it as their coffins float lIke little boats down a river. The first appearance of Death is, to me at least, the most terrifying. Death silently, physically coming to your door in the middle of the night is a horrible thought. Neruda describes how Death will knock at your door with nothing but a ring. You can hear it’s feet and it’s clothes, you can hear it shouting at you. In my mind’s eye there was warped glass door that stood between you and it, as if Death was standing just outside on your porch, it’s image only skewed by the contours of the glass. The next is the most neutral of the images of Death. It is at this point that I see that Death is not a negative entity in this piece. It is a broom cleaning the earth, but it only touches the dead. It is only removing the dead bodies so as to make space for the living, as one would move away clutter. The last view of Death is quite an honourable one. Just like the coffins previously, it describes the beds, most likely of those that have passed away in them, sailing once again. This time though there is a destination which is a port. Death is there as an admiral, as if to greet the deceased as his returning soldiers. It respects those that have passed, something I did not expect from it. This piece overall tells me that Death itself is not a bad being. It doesn’t actually cause the death of others, it simply is the caretaker of the event. An explanation that I have for the first, horrifying encounter with Death in the poem is that someone in the house is probably close to dying and it is there to collect them. I quite like how Death is portrayed in this poem. Though I did take me a couple reads to understand it, this version of death is not that evil. It is a being with a duty and it is serving it well.

Day Four (The History of One Tough Motherfucker- Charles Bukowski): This poem fills me with so many questions. More questions than statements really. The first few being the obvious ones, like who in the world would de-tail a cat? It is such a cruel thing to do. A cat uses the tail for balance and such, so it angers me that someone would do such a thing. To me this worse than the cat being shot. Yes that’s also horrendous in its own right, but at least in that situation there is even the slightest bit of a chance that it was an accident. To cut the tail off is on the other hand is a entirely deliberate and difficult process. One would have actually put in effort into cutting the tail off a cat, so the fact that someone made the effort to do just that is disgusting. This is why I am very grateful that Bukowski treats the cat well, especially after his friend ran the cat over. It also seems that this is what the two bond over, the recovery after the accident. I wonder why he was chose to hold the cat during an interview, or how the interviewer felt when they discovered a poem had been written about it. The main question I have after reading this poem is what do they know as bullshit? Is it the relationship between them? I hope not as the cat has been through enough. Maybe it’s that the cat is his inspiration for his work. That cannot be entirely untrue as there is this poem at least directly influenced by the cat. It could be also referring to the interview. It’s saying that both he and the cat know that everything that he spews is meaningless garbage only meant to sooner shoo away the press. This reason seems the most likely to me. Also I went and looked up a photo of Bukowski holding the cat, which turned out to be a real cat. Did it really not have a tail, been shot and been run over? I don’t know, the picture doesn’t show that much. What I will say is that if you were to simply view this photo with no context at all, no knowledge of the person or the cat, it would just look like an older man holding a slightly irritated cat. In his defense though most cats are always slightly irritated. From the photo you wouldn’t be able to tell how much the cat has been through, and how much the man in the photo has been through it with the cat. This is an instance where while a picture is worth a thousand words, maybe they aren’t the right ones. Maybe the written word in this instance is worth so much more.

Day Five (Saddest Poem- Pablo Neruda) This piece is clearly about a lost love, maybe even to the extent of “the one that got away.” Just as the other Neruda poems on the other days, it has wonderfully vivid imagery to it. Through this assignment I’ve discovered that I quite like Neruda’s work and will most probably read more of it now. Now I’m not sure if this is really the saddest poem of them all, but it must have been one of the saddest poems for him to write. The pain and the longing for this person must have cut him deeply. I quite like the bits that went, “I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. She loved me, sometimes I loved her.” This displays that they were probably together for a very long time, falling in and out of love with each over and over again. There was a uncertainty in their relationship, yet they still seemed to have cared for the other. She is associated with the night sky full of stars. It could either mean that they spent a lot of time together at night, looking at the stars, or that to him she is as grand and as beautiful as the night sky. Either way, to have a such a constant unavoidable reminder of her is most likely what makes this the saddest poem for him. “We, who we were, we are the same no longer.” People grow and change, him mentioning this means that in this is what he thinks ultimately drove them apart. They were not the same people that started out together when they began to fall apart. “Love is so short, and oblivion so long.” He feels as though the love they had to together was very short lived and his period of confusion lasted much too long. He feels lost as stated in, “my soul is lost without her.” She perhaps embodies then more than just herself. Though she is undeniably at the centre of this and she is very important to him, I think that he also associates her with the time they were together. The feeling of happiness, of normality, maybe even just the simple pleasure of looking up at night and not feeling regret. Maybe he misses her, maybe he misses that, but my probably misses both. “Although this may be the last pain she causes me, and this may be the last poem I write for her.” Neruda writes that he knows that this pain is going to end. Eventually the night sky will be neutral once more as the memories will be, though I don’t believe he can truly make the pain stop right he says it will. Along those lines, he says that this will be the last poem that he writes for her, but I doubt that. There will be a couple more, but slowly he will find that the inclination will not be so strong and it is then he will stop once and for all, but this is not that poem.

3 notes · View notes

ruleandruinrpg · 7 years

Photo

CONGRATULATIONS, ALYX!

You have been accepted for the role of LEI YUL-KEUNG with a faceclaim change to Godfrey Gao. Admin Rosey: Bless you, bless you, bless you. You have brought me the absolute joy of saying that we will be opening our roleplay with my sunshine LEI. Your para sample was what stole the show. It captured the moment so perfectly, so well, that it would’ve be a travesty if I had kept him from your capable hands. You laid out the application so carefully, so methodically, what with the elaborations on the different connections and plot points that I was almost disappointed because I wanted more. Thank you so much for this beautiful application! I am so thrilled to welcome you to Rule & Ruin! You have 24 HOURS to send in your account. Also, remember to look at the CHECKLIST. Welcome to Ravka!

OUT OF CHARACTER

ALIAS: Alyx

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: She/Her

AGE: 19

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: CST and 8; I’m currently not in school right now (though I will be starting college in the fall after a gap year) so right now I’m honestly on 24/7 or at the very least lurking on mobile, and if I am gone I always let the main know about it.

TRIGGERS: OMITTED.

CURRENT/PAST ACCOUNTS: OPTIONAL.

http://lilyeldridge.tumblr.com/

http://gracesinclair.tumblr.com/

http://theosgreco.tumblr.com/

http://diemhynson.tumblr.com/

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER:

Lei: “Flower bud”

→ Lei’s home was always a child too cramped. The revelation that another child would be added to the mix was daunting, but the farther along the pregnancy became the more excitement filled the air. Lei’s mother would sing the unborn fetus to rest when she felt the kicks coming on. She would sing him tunes of the flowers that bud open in spring. “Rest, my little flower bud” she would whisper to it, knowing weeks in advance that it would possess the name that meant what it already knew so well: flowers. It was just meant to be that the boy possessed the ability of the thing the flowers needed most: water. It was a sign, a way of telling the family that the boy was a needed addition that would brighten up their lives. He was meant to bloom and grow big and strong. He was meant to bring beauty into their lives. Of course, after the death of his parents, Lei began to resent his name. He was no flower. He was not beautiful and pleasing to those around him. No, he was a weed. He was something that most look at in annoyance and disgust. Something that would be better off dead yet somehow always survives. No, Lei didn’t think he deserved the title of flower bud. Maybe at one point in his life but not anymore.

Shuang: “bright, clear”

→ That was what Lei always was to his family— a brightness, a clarity in the midst of their mundane lives. He was the sunshine child— the only who lit everyone around him up with his genuine happiness and carefree nature. His vision was clear and innocent. His vision was filled with childhood ignorance and a family who fought tooth and nail to preserve that. He was happy, the human embodiment of a rainbow that appeared across the sky after a violent storm passed through the area, but rainbows don’t last forever. Where a rainbow appears, there’s another storm waiting in the wings, and it engulfed him. The sight of his parents’ dead and bloody bodies. The grip of the Shu Han court as they dragged him away from the parents he didn’t get to mourn properly. The look of pure horror on his siblings’ faces when his water released a flood. The sight of the men who took away his innocence all dead eyed and silent. The realization that he took away their voices, their lives. It all gathered together to form clouds that covered the brightness that once engulfed him. His vision became blurred with images of the monster he was and the shame he felt as he turned away from his family. He could no longer recognize his reflection in the mirror. The boy who shined so bright and clearly felt his light diminish and blur to form something of a shadow.

Yul-Keung: No known name meaning

→ A mismatched pair of people all thrown together. Laughs around the dinner table. Rushing out to go play while the parents and one child goes to clean up. Squeezing too many kids into too few beds. Games of hide and seek that became progressively more crucial as more village children were taken away. Days spent outside watching the water being moved from the crook in the leaves by a force they could hardly comprehend. Ancient stories getting told as the kids all raced over to their respected beds. Kisses on the forehead before the parents also disappeared to sleep. Nights huddle around the fireplace as bad weather terrorizes their garden and other outdoor areas. Fond memories Lei had of the people he cared for the most. Painful memories that Lei now held of the people that were either dead or looked at him like he was a monster who killed their sunshine boy. Arms that once embraced him held onto each other as he stood in the middle of a pile of bodies. Eyes that were once so filled with adoration and love viewed him as a stranger. Bodies he once fell asleep next to shrunk in size as he ran away from them towards a place that would be his reluctant home.

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?

I’m not going to lie, when the teasers were coming out the first thing I read was the quotes on the graphics. Quotes are always one of the things I use to really get a feel for a character, so it made it see if this were a type of character I would potentially feel connected to or one I know I wouldn’t do justice so I shouldn’t waste my time filling out an app when there’s someone else that could do this character well. With Lei, I immediately got heart eyes for his quote. I always say that my type of character to play would be cinnamon roll girls and broken boys (and my nonbinary babies bc can’t forget them) and Lei definitely fit my type.

I was definitely brought in by his quote, but I stayed for his bio. I loved the fact that he didn’t grow up tragic. There’s a saying that goes some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them, and I associate that with tragedy as well. For Lei, he definitely had tragedy thrust upon him. He was the heart of his family. He may have been one too many mouths to feed, but he completed their household and he was loved. They didn’t see his grisha abilities as unnatural or weird; they saw it as a gift just like they saw he was a gift. They would bottle his laughter up and save it for a rainy day if it were possible. No, he was not born a tragedy, but he definitely was made into one. Maybe if he had lived in a place that took better care of grisha. Maybe if he had done a better job of hiding his abilities. There were a million possibilities that could’ve changed his story, but I feel like it was fate that he was forced to lose his rose tinted glasses and realize that not everyone saw rain as a good thing. Though some days it could be a light rain fall that allows for the plants to grow and be harvested for food, others days it could be a storm that ravages the town and only leaves destruction in its wake. Lei had only known the former. He didn’t know true struggle until he saw his parents dead and really tapped into his powers and unleashed a side of it no one in his family really expected him to be capable of.

I also adored Lei’s connections and everything else about him. I love that he’s asexual. When I saw him on the list of LGBT+ characters in the rp I couldn’t help but smile a bit. I love his connection with Vera and the fact that it was hinted at to ship them without actually writing down that there’s something there. I love that he remembers Oyun’s face and has this complete loathing of her and she probably doesn’t even know who he is. I love that he and Katya have this similar vengeance and fierceness to them that they just click. Finally, I love the brotp with Aarvas and how they can both see the darkness lurking in the other and how they stick together despite Aarvas being super into religion and Lei not caring that much.

Overall, I feel like Lei is a complex character who I would love to explore. I would love to really be able to get into his mindset and flesh out the connections he has as well as make new ones with people you’d expect him to be drawn to as well as people that no one would expect the two of them to meet and get along. He’s a broken, beautiful boy and I hope I would get to call him mine.

WHAT FUTURE PLOT IDEAS DID YOU HAVE IN MIND?

Self: I don’t see myself in the mirror anymore

→I want to see Lei’s mask breaking. I know there’s only so long you can wear a facade before it becomes too much, and I want Lei to get to that point where the mask becomes more of a burden than a safety net. I want to do all of the self paras where you just see how worn out and exhausted he really is when he strips off the mask of this happy, sunshine boy he once was and reveals this sad, angry man that hid underneath it all. I want days when he forgets to flash a smile where he would normally and his eyes failed to show that same brightness he managed all the other days. I just want to see how much putting on his mask takes out of him and make him wonder if it’s really worth it to continue being someone that died back in Shu Han.

→I want him dealing with the fact that he has no contact with his family anymore. Growing up, Lei absolutely adored his family and they adored him, so I would like to see him occasionally daydreaming of long ago memories of before the Shu Han came for him. I want the flashbacks of him first leaving his family and maybe just breaking down at one point because he could see in their eyes that they viewed him as a completely different person. I want him wondering how they were doing and what they were up to because it’s been years since he last saw them and they all talked about dreams that would be nice to have aspired to. Yeah, Lei’s all hardened and broken but I still feel like there’s a piece of his heart that his siblings have buried themselves too far in.

→ I want to see Lei interact with more people. I feel like he leaves himself closed off except for the select few connections he has, but I feel like he could expand his inner circle a bit. Maybe he strikes up a relationship of some sort (definitely more preferred if it was platonic) with a pyro just because who doesn’t like the idea of fire and ice together. I want to see how he interacts with the humans because on one hand his family is human and he deeply cared for them but on the other hand the people who killed his parents and tried to cut him open were also humans so his view on them could go either way. I want to see if he’s a bit nicer to those humans who kind of are more intrigued by his abilities more than anything or if he doesn’t bother with humans in general after that bad experience.

Vera: She was his sunset

→ I love this relationship! I want to explore Lei’s emotions and figure out what exactly he feels for Vera. She’s different than everyone else because he doesn’t have to hide behind his mask because she sees right through it. With her he can get back some of the joy that he’s kind of been missing for a long time. I like the fact that it was left vague in both of their connections that they know there’s something there, but neither one of them know exactly what it is, and I’d love to get at least one of them to actually figure out what it is that they’re feeling.

→ I want those deep conversations between Vera and Lei. I feel like Vera’s the only person Lei opens up to so I would love to explore him talking with Vera about some serious matters and her kind of healing his mental wounds along the way. I feel like Vera tends to bring out the memories that Lei tends to keep tucked away behind lock and key, and I would love to see Lei dealing with those and Vera healing his inner wounds. I want to see Lei genuinely excited to see someone, and I feel like he’d get that way mostly towards Vera.

→ I want to flashback to their first meeting. Did they get along right away? Did it take a while for Lei to warm up to Vera? When did they meet? All question that I would like to answer. I know it mentioned that there were other kids in his village that were grisha, but I want to know if they were only ones that could control elements or if Vera’s kind were also around, and that could be done through exploring that with the Vera rper.

→ This is a short one, but I want a small conversation of Vera and Lei kind of making fun of Oyun? Like I know neither one of them likes her, so I would love to have an interaction where they kind of bond over that and mimic her or something to entertain themselves a bit.

Oyun: He was a tide, but with her he was a hurricane

→ I want a showdown with Oyun and Lei. I know Lei has all of this built up rage in him for anyone associated with the Shu Han court after all of the stuff they put him through, and I want to see it all come out one day. I feel slightly bad for Oyun just because she didn’t necessarily order Lei to be taken and experimented on, but Lei’s targeting her anyways because she was the first name on the list he memorized to appear. I just feel like when Lei finally does release his powers on her that she won’t take it lying down and will have a few tricks up her sleeve, so I’m definitely looking forward to plotting out how that would go down.

→I want to see Lei just doing little things to inconvenience Oyun. While building up to his showdown with her, I would love to just see him maybe send a small wave of water towards her when she’s having a good hair day or pulling the water out of her cup when she’s about to drink from it. I just want Lei to do some little things like that because it would bring him a moment of joy before it was lost again in his sea of sorrow.

Katya: They were woven from the same cloth

→ She was probably the one who understood him best. Where Vera could see the broken bits left over by the storm, Katya was able to see the next big storm that brewed on his horizon. They were both built from the same ruination. They both had this vengeance in their hearts, and it’s evident when they train. She pushes him to be better, and he pushes her to be better as well. It’s nice being with Katya. He doesn’t have to worry about appearances. He doesn’t have to play a part. He can peel off the mask and show the anger that’s tucked behind his eyes. I want all the threads of these two training together. I want to see their powers working together and creating something menacing. I want to flashback to their first session and how his power was and compare it to now to really see how much he’s grown. I feel like his power was fairly weak when he first started out because he didn’t grow up training his ability that it would need to see how well Katya’s training has helped him.

→ I want to see Lei contemplating whether or not to tell her the true reason behind wanting to train her. It’s nice that she doesn’t bother to ask why he wants to turn his gentle waves into a hurricane, but it would also be something he could get off his chest and be able to tell someone who wouldn’t judge him or anything. She’s someone who understands his anger and grief so having a cute interaction of them bonding over their sob stories would be interesting considering the personalities of the two characters.

Aarvas: Darkness blankets them both

→ I want these two bonding over their abilities. I definitely feel like their friendship began on the basis that they’re both tidemakers and the big theme with their connection is that like draws to like, so I would like to explore that aspect of their friendship. I want them kind of being carefree a little bit like maybe they splash each other as a joke or something that takes away from their anger or faith for a little bit. I also want to see them training with each other because I feel like there’s no one better to help you with your powers than someone who also has those powers.

→ I want to see them talking about faith. Everyone is aware of how much into religious Aarvas is, but I want to explore the stark contrast between Aarvas’ big belief in faith and Lei’s lack of belief. I feel when Lei was little he believed in that stuff, but after all of the stuff he’s being through there’s definitely that attitude of if there were someone looking out for me he’s not doing a very good job at it. I just want to see their conversations about stuff like that and have them grow stronger despite the difference in opinion. I like the fact that Lei’s kind of become Aarvas’ apostle despite really wanting the job, so that’s another aspect of it to look into.

→ I want to explore the darkness between them. Again, like draws to like, and they both are aware of their own darkness. I wanted to get them, mainly Lei, to become aware of the darkness they both have haunting them. Maybe Lei shares a bit about his life that he didn’t intend on talking about and Aarvas and him get into a conversation about one another that really extends the already strong bond between them. Honestly, I just want Lei to not be alone in his emotions and to realize dark and light lives in everyone.

WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO HAVE YOUR CHARACTER DIE?: Absolutely!

IN DEPTH

IN CHARACTER PARA SAMPLE(S):

It had been 1 month since they last came. They had managed to take a little girl a few houses over that liked to watch as the fire danced on her fingertips before Lei had the sense to put it out. They always managed to take someone. Lei thought he was the exception. Lei thought his family was clever enough to be safe from that fate. No, there were no exceptions for the Shu Han.

Dirt and soot rained down as Lei raced out from under his hiding space. It wasn’t that extravagant of a hiding space really— just in a nook of a tree that was conveniently hidden by some shrubbery they planted to spruce the lawn up a bit. No, nothing in Lei’s life was extravagant, but it always seemed to work. He didn’t get buffets of food, but he still found himself going about the day with a satisfied stomach. He didn’t get a room all to himself, but he still slept soundly. His hiding space wasn’t some underground shelter, but he never got found.

Well, not yet.

When days like these rolled around, his family had a schedule: play hide and go seek until the sun disappeared, then go straight home. It seemed easy enough and it always worked. The kids would race out and play their games, completely unaware of the threat that awaited them back near the houses, and then they would come back and settle down for whatever their father would gather for dinner. Yes, it was a bit strange, but the light never left Lei’s eyes for the silly games he was told to play. No, he knew the ending to the story, and he knew this one would end like the last one did.

But it didn’t.

Lei wandered around the back of his home in search of the door that would allow him to quickly slip back into the warm, heated house. He found it rather quickly, but as he turned the door knob he could sense that something was off. It wasn’t the same inviting feeling he usually got during that time. No, it was a much colder feeling that shook him to the bone. He didn’t hear his parents talking around the stove. He didn’t see his siblings around the sink taking turns cleaning up for dinner. He didn’t see anything except two silhouettes near the front door.

Run, run little lamb

He was always a curious young boy, so of course he went over to investigate what was laying at his door step. He stepped over the loose edges of the carpets, and stopped short at the feet of what appeared to be his parents. He could almost make himself believe they were only sleeping, but the scarlet drops that were leaking out of their throats made it so the dream was only that. No, they were not sleeping.

Run away from the slaughter

Tears fell from his eyes as he looked at his parents before his attention became more focused on the two other figures that were now coming into view. He scanned their features, and he didn’t know it then, but those emotionless eyes would haunt him much later on. No, it didn’t immediately click that those were the same features of the men his parents warned him about. He had only seen their backs as he peaked out to see if it was time to come back in. Even then he never noticed the crying child in their arms. He never put the pieces together as they shot out fire or water as a sign for help— a sign Lei never picked up on.

A sign Lei himself would be shooting

After death, the proper thing to do would be to mourn. It showed that someone felt shaken up and upset about the loss. Lei got no time to mourn. He didn’t get to tell his parents goodbye, or to kiss their cheeks one last time. All he could do was let the tears pour out of his eyes, and even then it wasn’t long before the two guards took that away from him too.

They took everything away

“Your powers will be put to good use.”

“You’re going to serve our nation well.”

All veiled attempts to get him to cooperate. No, Lei was often a quiet kid, an obedient kid, but even he couldn’t have prevented the scream that erupted from his mouth as they started dragging him away. He could barely see his parents’ bodies when it happened.

When the flood came to meet his call

Sweet little Lei. My sunshine boy. The missing piece of the puzzle. All former words to describe him.

Monster. A hidden storm. Murderer. All current words to describe him.

They say water was meant for rejuvenation. Water cleanses, water heals. In some religions water means rebirth, but there was no rebirth as Lei’s waves struck the men down. There was no healing when their laughter was smothered by water, when the air was replaced in their lungs by the liquid. The only thing clean was the water far enough away when it ended to not have been tainted that the blood that came out of the men so freely. Water may have been cleansing and loving in the past, but it was also a weapon that could be used for destruction.

A destruction Lei didn’t even know he was capable of. A destruction no one knew he was capable of. Yet, it didn’t compare to the destruction in Lei’s eyes as he noticed his siblings standing near the house. He was a stranger in their eyes. He stepped towards them, and they took two steps backwards. He had tried to speak, to apologize, to explain himself, but he was at a loss for words. Lei haven’t thought himself the monster until he saw the fear in Xiu’s eyes and the look of utter betrayal on everyone else’s.

And so he ran.

And ran.

But he could never escape the life he left behind, the lives he took.

CHARACTER HEADCANONS:

Family: Blood is thicker than water

→ Lei is the youngest of five kids— 3 boys, 2 girls. The oldest was a boy named Hui. They named him that because, like the name meant, they knew he would be clever. He would often lift Lei up on his shoulders and prance around with him during the summer time. He and Lei had a considerable age difference, but that only made their brotherly bond stronger because Hui treated him like his own child. Hui wanted to enlist in the army, but he held off on it because he wanted to help his parents take care of the others. The second child was a girl named Mei. She would often tease Lei by saying that he wanted to be her so much he practically took her name. She was the most attentive one when it came to his powers. She would encourage him to practice it when the Shu Han court was not around because he had a gift and needed to nurture it. She was the most practical sibling. She longed to travel and make a difference in the world, though she knew more than likely she would just be a mother— something she was content with. The middle child was a boy named Shi. He was named that because they wanted him to grow up completely truthful with them. He was the one often lovingly teasing Lei and resulting in Lei calling his face ugly amongst other things brothers do to show their love. He was often the wildcard of the family and changed his mind greatly on what he wanted to do. When Lei last saw him he said he wanted to be a small farmer. The fourth child in the Yul-Keung family was a girl named Xiu. She grew up to be as charming as her name suggested. She was a ditzy, dreamer sort of child who spent more time running around in fields of flowers than inside helping out. Lei and she were known as the sunshine siblings because their smiles could light up even the darkest sky. He knew it was right to turn his back on his family when he saw the terror in her eyes.

2. Letters: When words remain unspoken

→ Lei has been writing letters to his siblings and parents. He would never send them, but he uses it as a way to get out all of the words he was too shaken up to say when he left that day. The letters are in a stack in the corner of his room.

3. Zodiac: Day of birth, day of death

→ Lei was born on June 12th, which makes him a Gemini. Gemini seems to fit him seeing as he could be described as two faced as the face he puts on for the public is not the one he wears in private. His parents found it ironic that he held the ability to control water when he was born an air sign. Back in his youth it was a joke that he was meant to be a pisces since he was able to control water and pisces are known to be more pure hearted and kind than some of the other signs, but people who met him now wouldn’t think of that at all.

4. Kvas: Raise a glass to freedom

→ Lei knows how to hold his own when it comes to kvas. He never used to drink it back in Shu Han, but after all the events he went through he picked up the habit of having a glass or two after a long day of training his power with Katya or by himself. He wished it was stronger, but he deals with the drink as best as he can.

5. Diet: Food of the soul

→ Lei eats everything but fish. Seeing as fish live in water and Lei controls water, he feels a connection to them and avoids consuming them. He most prefers fruits such as apples and oranges as well as the redder meats such as lamb and beef. He didn’t have a lot to eat growing up because there were so many people in his house and they weren’t the richest of families, so Lei usually only eats a small plate full and makes sure to clean his plate every time because he was always told to do that when he was younger. Lei also doesn’t really talk to people at lunch. He’ll nod and make small talk to seem polite, but overall he likes to focus on his meal then get back to whatever he was doing beforehand.

6. Language: Lost in translation

→ Lei still finds himself talking in Shu a lot just because he did grow up speaking the language and he didn’t move to Ravka until he was older. He’s gotten good at conversational speak in the Ravka language, but he still mainly writes in Shu and there’s always some words that don’t translate over to Ravkan so he’ll try his best to explain the meaning or just stick to the Shu word.

7. Pets: Who let the dogs out?

→ Lei doesn’t have any pets nowadays, but he did have a pet growing up. His dog almost exactly resembles a Chow Chow, but in Shu Han they’re called Songshi Quan, which means fluffy lion dog. His dog was named Little Dragon because His older brother Shi kept begging for a dragon for his birthday so his parents bought them the dog instead and merely named it that so technically they got him what he wanted. Lei liked the dog, but it became attached to Xiu more than anyone. Sadly, the day that the Shu Han court finally came for Lei, the dog was killed. It often stood guard outside of the house to alert them when unwanted visitors were coming, and that was an inconvenience to the guards who were hoping to kind of come in by surprise. It was another reason why Lei let his powers take control and killed the guards.

EXTRAS: I have an inspiration tag on my blog of quotes and graphics that I think fit Lei pretty well:

http://octaviablakewrites.tumblr.com/tagged/insp%3A-lei

ANYTHING ELSE? OMITTED.

#raraccepted #accepted: lei

0 notes