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loosesodamarble · 1 year

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Forgotten Eyes

Summary: A view of Nacht Faust from an overlooked point of view.

Genre: angst

Word count: ~600

..........

If you were to ask the former servants of House Faust how the noble family fell, they would say that Nacht Faust ended House Faust with dignity. Although many disagreed with his behavior throughout the years, each and every servant would defend his character after his family's death.

"I don't know where the rumors of him becoming a drunkard came from."

"He worked diligently during the House's final days."

"Everyone assumes a broken man drowns his sorrows in alcohol but they never consider that one might bury their grief in responsibility."

"He had no time to be drunk off his ass with the responsibilities he had."

"Even when we offered, he turned down every drink."

One maid asked why and Nacht had said to her, "I can't be allowed to forget what I did. I can't dull the pain. I have to live with it for every moment I'm alive. So it means something." Whether that was honorable of him or insane, the woman couldn't say for certain.

After the deaths of Morgen, Vincent, and Adela Faust, Nacht toiled away at his father's desk settling whatever business was left incomplete. He sent money to families his parents owed money to. Accepted deliveries of devil relics which his parents found on the black market and had them destroyed. Informed any political allies that they no longer had the support of House Faust, for they no longer were. Anyone who attempted to visit Nacht was turned away at the door, as he ordered. No matter how much the foreign swordsman from the Grey Deer demanded to see him, he was not permitted to enter.

The servants of House Faust did not walk around broken glass in Nacht's presence. They simply didn't dare disturb Nacht's focus, peculiar though it was. They glided in and out of whatever room they were called to like ghosts. If Nacht sought to comfort himself with work, then they would let him do that. They did as they always had done for House Faust, only with a quarter of the work.

The morning of Morgen's funeral, the staff of the house was gathered by Nacht.

"You are all relieved of your duties to House Faust," he stated with a hollow voice. "For each of you I've prepared severance pay as well as a letter of recommendation so you can acquire jobs elsewhere. Thank you for bearing with me for all this time but it's time you're all set free from this hell. Once you leave, never return. That is all."

The servants were left in shock by the dismissal but none argued. If that was the final order of their, now former, boss then they would follow through.

Nacht Faust wasn't an upstanding figure, not for the longest time. Each servant of the Faust family had their disagreements with him. Many would even admit to disliking working for the family - with the exception of Morgen.

Yet when it came to the final moments of their employment, no one disagreed with the fact that Nacht had been more than tolerable, admirable even.

Nacht hadn't tried to drink himself to death. He didn't run away from duty. He didn't sink further into the darkness of his own heart. At least for the week when the servants still knew him.

The forgotten eyes and ears of House Faust bear witness to the fact that Nacht Faust's sorrow was buried in labor.

#black clover #black clover fanfic #nacht faust #nacht faust headcanons #this is me elaborating one what i mentioned in the timeline i posted earlier #also not me being tired of sad people becoming drunks #there are other ways of burying pain #me and a friend actually discussed how nacht going cold turkey on bad behavior like drinking makes sense for his character

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brightgnosis · 1 year

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Hey, I saw once a comment on a post made by you on oathbreaking - I was wondering if you were more willing to speak on this? I've recently found myself in a situation that you described (unintentionally breaking an oath I did not understand the scope of) and I'm kind of despairing lol

It's never a fun thing to break an Oath- and they should never be made (or broken) lightly. But if you do break them? It's not the end of the world, I promise.

In my situation, I was working with the Irish an Cailleach after an introduction by a friend, @vlfgrim. At the time, I was living in Tulsa and in my most abusive relationship yet. When I was finally at my breaking point, I made an oath to her: Get me out of here and help me find someone who will treat me right for once, and I'll cut my hair off for you.

Most people'd scoff at that oath, thinking it didn't mean much. But as Wolf can attest: My hair was my pride and joy. It was my everything; my entire identity was wrapped up in my hair.

And she did it. I got out. I got back to my hometown. And after a well done love spell I met my now Husband- and he was the complete opposite of every abusive partner I'd ever met. And when it came time for me to cut off my locks ... I chickened out and only cut my hair off halfway. So she took it by force in a bleaching accident while I was dying it, forcing me to nearly shave my head bald; the woman I went to to fix my hair, in fact, was stunned that- with as bad as the accident had been- I hadn't gone bald.

As further punishment she made me her lacky for a few months; someone to bother Wolf every time they decided to not do their job for her, perform her offerings, etc; there's no good reason a dead watch without any batteries in it, which hasn't made a peep for a decade, should suddenly start going off every night at midnight until Wolf made their freaking offerings otherwise 🙄

It wasn't that bad, though. Eventually it stopped. Eventually I found a hairstyle I loved and my hair grew back. And then when I became an Irish Reconstructionist two years later I blood oathed myself to her and Brighid dually ... And while I don't worship either and am no longer an Irish Recon anymore, I'm still blood oathed to them in all technicality; I will always maintain at least a small Shrine to an Cailleach in a position of honor in my home- even if it's just a single candle on the mantle for her.

Chin up, darling 💜 It's really not so serious.

We're Human, and the Gods (or the Spirits; or whatever powers that be- whatever you wish to call them) fully understand that- even if sometimes they forget (or some don't even understand at all) what it means to actually be Human, and how it differs from the otherworldly; how our needs and capabilities are not always the same. And so they understand that we will falter, lose our way, misstep every now and again ... Break an oath, forget a promise, sin, offend, and so on.

Will there be consequences when we do so? Yeah. Will thunder come crashing down from the heavens to smite you, though? Nah. Will you die? Definitely not; you'll survive, and you'll carry on, and when you look back on it you'll probably laugh about it later (I know I do). And hopefully you'll've learned your lesson about Oaths ---- or, at the very least, you'll've learned something about yourself, maybe, if you're open to it.

#tsikadatsvirka #Answered Asks #2022 Asks #2022 #Religion and Magic #Celtic* Folk Tradition #A Direct Look At My Practice #Witchcraft Asks

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imamxdel · 10 months

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DANCE : for one muse to ask the other to dance at a party. (for So Rom, a comprehensive list of scenarios meme)

Maybe he'd caught her staring. Sorom ducked behind a pillar in the room when she'd accidentally caught his gaze, holding her breath and wincing her eyes together in hopes he hadn't noticed just how long she'd been watching him. The only thing that would make it more awkward was if he'd--

Sorom almost gasped when she turned and almost ran in to his chest. Though she wasn't extroverted in the slightest, she was particularly good at handling difficult situations like this due to her years of practice. She'd smiled, offering a small bow to the man, and taking a step back to put a respectable amount of distance between them.

"I apologize, I hadn't meant to be staring," she said, hoping that it would be enough to get him to move on. Her cheeks warmed at the way the man continued to look at her, feeling small and even more embarrassed. Sorom dodged the eye contact again by looking around the room at the various other party attenders and figuring he must have been an invited guest considering she didn't recognize him from the agency.

Perhaps telling the truth in this instance would be easier to explain than lie.

"I was focused on your choice in attire for this evening." And that was her being honest. Modelling wasn't her dream job, yet it was one she'd somehow gotten lucky enough to end up in. Standing in front of a camera was boring, and runway work was so anxiety inducing that it almost made her quit if she wasn't so passionate about working with some of the greatest designers in the country. To be able to work right under them and have a chance to wear what they'd made was truly a great honor to someone as passionate as Sorom. She just wished she had the chance to try her hand at making her own attire rather than fitting with someone else's.

And it was true. Kat's outfit was put together and eccentric, despite not being too loud as many designers seemed to choose. It fit him well and seemed to say enough about him that Sorom could tell he put in the work without burying himself in it.

Was he a designer?

Sorom assumed by the way he carried himself among the crowd he must have been someone important. By the time she was able to ease in to a real conversation about something she was more comfortable in, seeing him hold out a hand and invited her to join him on the dance floor, she'd accepted without really thinking.

She didn't want to come in the first place, better yet dance with a stranger she didn't know.

Yet as she was pulled closer among the heavier crowds all moving nicely to the soft beat of the classical band playing around them, Sorom actually smiled as she respectfully grasped his hand and hoped that if he was a designer, she'd have a chance to see his work up closer and discuss his inspiration.

Whatever followed the next fifteen minutes of relative silence, though not uncomfortable, Sorom felt herself start to fall in to the rhythm of the music and swayed along with him. Odd how she felt more and more comforted around him, and how the typical shyness she felt due to her introversion, turned in to a shyness of wanting to impress. As the two of them grew closer and closer in their embrace, Sorom's hand slipped from the delicate hold on his shoulder to wrap her entire arm under it, their bodies fronts against each other and her cheek pressed against his chest. // @grievousomen

#meme (grievousomen)#grievousomen

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cornfields-and-bad-dreams · 2 years

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For writing ideas, what about fahc geoff first meeting jack when she helps him get out of a botched robbery and that’s how they form a team?

So I finally got around to finishing this. It's probably not my greatest work but it's something.

Rating: Teen and up.

Warnings: Mention of blood and Knives.

Word Count: 1,100.

Jack wasn't entirely sure how she ended up working as a maid, but she did. Cleaning up after rich people was unbearable, her feet and back would ache after the long days spent working. The rich clientele were insufferable, these people obviously had never had to do anything for themselves, they would leave the biggest messes imaginable. On top of it all, they were assholes through and through, plus they didn't even pay well. Despite it all, a job is a job, and when you're in a city like Los Santos living ain't cheap, so any money Jack could get was greatly needed.

Jack woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing on the nightstand, checking the time her clock read 4:00 A.M. Groaning she reached over to see who it was. The contact photo for one of the houses she worked at greeted her on the screen.

"What now?" Jack sighed, not only was it early but it was supposed to be her day off.

Answering the phone Jack listened as the Lady prattled on about how they had a big party last night and were supposed to be heading for the airport soon so someone needed to clean the house, and if Jack would oh so kindly do it they'd pay her double the normal amount. Putting on a happy voice Jack agreed and asked when they'd like her to come in.

At 7 o'clock Jack got out of bed and by 8 she was at the house. Entering Jack was met with an unsurprising mess, the place was trashed and of course, it was her job to clean it. Starting in Jack began picking up and throwing away all the trash, she hadn't been at it very long when the sound of movement upstairs caught her attention. She was sure the lady had said no one was going to be home. Despite her better judgment, Jack proceeded up the stairs to the second floor in search of the source of the noise. Jack's first clue that something was horribly wrong was the sight of blood leading from one of the bedrooms to a bathroom. The sound of water soon drifted out from behind the almost but not quite closed door. Now Jack is not one to frighten easily and living in Los Santos had left her a bit desensitized to certain things, this shouldn't have been one of them but somehow Jack retained a calm composure and proceeded towards the door. Pushing it open Jack was met with a sight she hadn't expected. Leaning over the sink was a heavily tattooed man holding a towel against some sort of wound on his upper right arm. The man's head shot up at the sound of the opening door, his eyes were wild yet sunken, and his face seemed pale, overall the man looked rough. The man dropped the towel as he backed up away from Jack. Fishing a knife out of his pocket he slid it open and pointed it at her.

"Stay back, I don't wanna hurt you."

Jack threw her hands up and took a step back.

"Alright, I'm not gonna try anything."

The two of them stood there a moment in silence, the man seemed shaky, Jack wasn't sure if it was nerves or blood loss but either way, Jack knew that the situation was tense.

"Can I ask what you're doing here?" Jack spoke softly.

"I could ask you the same, wasn't supposed to be anyone here."

"I'm a maid, I got a call asking for me to come in today, supposed to be my day off but they offered double my usual fee. Now, you?"

The man let a breath out through his nose, the man's shoulders sank a bit as he seemed to relax. He still held the knife, but he brought it down to his side.

"It was supposed to be a quick job, in and out in less than an hour, grab whatever we could and bolt. Unfortunately, my partners had other plans. They shot me and left me here. No honor among thieves they say." The man looked at the gunshot wound. "It's just a flesh wound, so I guess I'm lucky in that regard."

Jack had lowered her hands and was playing with the bottom of her shirt nervously. She thought carefully about her words.

"Maybe you should sit down, you're not looking too good."

The man looked back up at her.

"What do you care?"

The question was more confused than suspicious.

"Fair question, I'd just hate to see you faint or something."

The man laughed lightly and nodded his head. He made his way over to the tub and sat down on the edge, Jack stepped forward into the bathroom more to keep eye contact with him.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Jack, Jack Pattillo. You?"

The man waited a moment, thinking, before finally answering.

"Geoff Ramsey."

Jack nodded leaning against the sink.

"It's nice to meet you, unexpected, but nice."

Geoff laughed and finally put away the knife.

"Likewise. So, how's this gonna go? I take it you'll have to call the cops, and to be honest I'm not in shape to be making a run for it. You just want to talk until the cops get here?"

Jack gave a confused look and laughed.

"Who said anything about calling the cops? Honestly, I don't give a damn about you being here, the people who live here are fucking assholes and in my opinion, I'd find it very funny for them to get robbed."

"Really?" Geoff was surprised.

"Really. I don't see too much difference between you and me. We might have different ways of making money, but I'd bet we're in the same boat when it comes down to it."

"You are something special, you know that?" Geoff grinned.

"Thanks. Now, if you're still interested in getting something out of this, I know where they keep a bunch of expensive family heirlooms. He'll I'll drive ya where ever you wanna go too."

"You're serious?" Geoff was hesitant.

"Look, I'm not gonna turn ya in, and I'll probably get in trouble for that, so if I'm getting in trouble might as well go the whole mile."

Geoff stood up and threw his arm around Jack.

"Why don't you join me? I feel like I can trust ya, and I'm definitely in the market for a new partner. I got a feeling we could go far together."

Jack laughed and threw her arm around Geoff in return.

"Why not? I'm sick of being a maid."

#fahc #fahc geoff #fahc jack #achievement hunter #my writing

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gra-sonas · 3 years

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Max Evans has had one hell of a year. The Roswell, New Mexico Season 3 premiere, which picked up a year after the events of the Season 2 finale, saw the alien-turned-cop living large with his pseudo siblings Isobel and Michael. However, his easygoing demeanor was nothing more than a facade. As it turns out, he is dying, principally because his body is rejecting the heart transplant he received last season. Now, he is on a mission to wrap up his unfinished business -- not the least of which involves Liz Ortecho, the estranged love of his life, and Jones, the alien from whom he was cloned.

Speaking to CBR, Roswell, New Mexico star Nathan Dean offered some insight into Max's end-of-life plans. He shared why it was so fun to play two separate characters in Season 3, as well as how that effect was accomplished behind the scenes. He explained the key difference between Max and Jones, which may very well show Max his own potential. He teased Anatsa's key role this season and warned fans to be worried about the results of Maria's ominous visions. He also previewed Max's reunion with Liz, the real-world issues that Season 3 will tackle and more.

CBR: This season, you're playing two separate characters. How do you alter your approach to differentiate between Max and Jones?

Nathan Dean: You know, Max has spent his whole life suppressing who he is, suppressing his abilities and trying to hide and trying to be human. Jones has never tried to do that. He has never suppressed anything. He's never tried to stop himself from finding his full potential. So really, it was just the opportunity.

I thank our showrunner Chris Hollier and our writers for allowing me to do this, to really step into the potential of what Max could have been under different circumstances, if he hadn't grown up on Earth around humans. If he never tried to suppress these abilities, if he never tried to suppress who you are or your potential, what is that? What is the limit there? For Jones, there is none.

So it was really fun to then step into this fully evolved version of the character that I've been playing and then switch between the two, go back to understanding the circumstances of, "Alright, you're human, you're trying to be human," but then switch back into, "Oh, no, you're not. You're so much more than human. You're something far beyond that." Yeah, juxtaposing the two was a lot of fun.

What is it like for you to act opposite yourself? What does that look like for you behind the scenes?

Nathan Dean: It's very weird! It's very weird. You know, there were days where there would be myself and there would be a photo double -- one for Max, one for Jones -- and there would be stunt doubles -- one for Max, one for Jones -- and we just kept multiplying on set. But it was very bizarre. It was a lot of fun.

You sort of do one side of the scene a certain way and then switch over. You know, you take the beard off, you change the outfit and change the mannerisms, change the demeanor, and then try to have a conversation with the self that you just were. It was very fun! [laughs] It was very bizarre, but it was great.

Thanks to Jones, Max is finally getting some of the answers he's longed for. How will that impact the way he sees himself, particularly in relation to Isobel and Guerin?

Nathan Dean: It impacts him a lot. I mean, we spent this past year... we weren't working. You know, a lot of people weren't working and you just kind of sit at home and have to look yourself in the mirror and really figure out who you want to be and how you want the world to remember you and how you want the world to see you.

Max is confronted with this thing in a very real person of Jones, literally looking yourself in the mirror. It sort of forces Max, I think, to take stock and appreciate Guerin and appreciate Isobel and Liz, too. I mean, just be grateful for having them in his life and finding out his place in the universe. You get to see, I think, that growth from him all season of just that gratitude and approaching people with respect, and respecting his situation so much more seeing it from someone else's eyes.

As we found out in the premiere, Max is dying. How does he envision his last days? What does his bucket list look like?

Well, I think largely it comes down to him wanting to respect and honor the people around him that have loved him in his life, and he hasn't necessarily always been good on that. So he just really wants to just be there for the people he cares about. I think for him, dying quietly and disappearing is the best option. He's always wanted to disappear into the shadows, but this season and Jones in particular kind of forced him to step out of those shadows and step into himself more.

I hope that, by the end of the season, that we see a much more mature, a much more fully formed Max than we have in the past. He's no longer allowed to hide because now there's two of him! So yeah, he's kind of forced to step into the spotlight when he doesn't necessarily want to.

It looks like Roswell has a new sheriff in town. How will that affect Max's job and his role in the community?

Nathan Dean: It doesn't really affect him. I mean, Max thankfully is not -- he doesn't have his job by election, but it definitely hurts him because Valenti was tough, but she was always kind of on his side and had his back. So yeah, he has to definitely adjust and learn a new place and learn if you he trust the new sheriff, who is coming into town in very crazy times, because now there's not one, but there's two of me.

He's got to learn how to adjust with that and hopefully, the new sheriff will be able to -- maybe not be as understanding as Valenti was, but yeah, she'll have a whole new set of problems to deal with. I hope we can trust her and hope that he'll be able to keep his job and try to keep her out of it as much as possible. But yeah, it's definitely a new rule.

In this week's episode, we learn a little more about Anatsa and her reason for coming to Roswell. How will we see that dynamic evolve as the season progresses?

Nathan Dean: Well, that's gonna be fun. I mean, she has her own agenda, definitely, and Max is a little bit reckless off the top and kind of steps a little bit out of line. But yeah, I mean, she's coming here, she's gonna learn a whole lot of things that she wasn't quite ready to learn when she first came to Roswell. Yeah, as the season goes on, we'll see her become integrated into not only Max's life, but then obviously, Michael and Isobel's life as well. She is really striving to uncover what turns out to be some uncomfortable truths.

Roswell has never shied away from dipping its toes into controversial topics, so how does that set the stage for the show to tackle some real-world current events?

Nathan Dean: Well, we've all been through a lot of these last couple years. Having jumped forward a year, we definitely touch on -- I mean, it's unavoidable. There was a pandemic! There was a lot of people going through some pretty difficult times. Yeah, we definitely jump into it. I mean, we'll talk about it. We always try to stay as current as possible.

I mean, the fact that Max is a cop, that's controversial in and of itself, and we definitely talk about that. Yeah, like you said, we don't shy away from situations that are going on in the real world, and I think this year, we were given a good platform to be able to have these conversations with level heads and not shy away from it. Stuff will come up about being a cop; stuff will come up about the pandemic. Kyle, one of our main characters, is a doctor. This stuff that doctors have had to go through these past couple of years, it's all very, very much at the forefront of this show.

We try to tackle everything with a level head and with respect. We just were given a lot of ammunition this past year, and we'll dive into it and we'll talk about it. But central to our show, obviously, is going to be these aliens and the relationship between Liz and Max and all that. So we try to play it all on an even playing field.

Just how trustworthy is Jones?

Nathan Dean: [laughs] I think you've got to figure out his agenda first! I mean, you've got to figure out what he wants. Ultimately, Jones sort of operates as a window into the past. Michael and Isobel primarily, but also Max, always had these questions boiling around in their minds about, "Who are we? Why are we here? Where did we come from? What's our place in the stars? What are we doing? What's happening?" And Jones is a window into that.

He obviously has his own plans and his own thing, but at the end of the day, yeah, he's sort of what Max could have been, had Max not grown up on Earth. We get to see that unfold and unfold throughout the season. So yeah, I mean, do you trust Max? Do you just Isobel? Do you trust Michael? Do you trust any of these aliens? Do you trust Jones? I don't know! That's all yet to be seen.

Maria keeps having visions of a funeral and she isn't quite sure who's in the coffin. How worried should fans be?

Nathan Dean: Definitely be worried. You know, we're just learning now what Maria's abilities are and what her role in this cosmic game is. As we move forward, trying to figure out what her ability is, and are these are these, in fact, real? Are these set in stone? Is this something that can be changed? What are these visions? Are these the future that's going to happen or a future that could happen?

Yeah, we learn a lot about Maria this year, and obviously Liz is off in LA trying to figure out how to deal with that as well. It's fun to sort of -- you know, she's one of the new aliens in the group and we get to figure out what that's about.

What can you tease about Max's reunion with Liz?

Nathan Dean: I mean, Max and Liz have this relationship that is constantly push and pull. They're in this orbit around each other they just can't break. It is very appropriate that she literally runs into him, because no matter how hard they try to be apart and try to be separated, the world, the universe, whatever it is, they just keep literally crashing into each other.

Obviously, it's been a year. Max is not doing well, in a lot of ways. There's also another Max out there somewhere. So yeah, they crash into each other in quite a spectacular way.

#nathan dean parsons #max evans #rnm cast interviews #rnm spoilers #rnm 3x02 #roswell new mexico s3 #echo #liz ortecho

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skullchicken · 3 years

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Part 3: Gib compound right now or else!

Part 1 I Part 2

A quick matrix search revealed the leader of the Swamp Thangs to be that one toxic, identity-stealling shaman who had been interested in Dr. Kersh's compound from the start. It also revealed where they were located.

The building, as well as most of this part of the city, was overgrown with weeds that didn't seem quite right. After a short astral-projection through the building and a sloppily drawn map (while I am an artist, Alberich is not and I felt it should reflect that) we had a pretty good idea where the target was. Baba Yaga and Shere Khan would infiltrate the hide-out, made invisible by an air spirit while the rest would make sure to make some noise outside to make for a distraction. And just in case shit would go wrong, we would meet up later at an abandoned mall.

This... would turn out to be a bad plan.

Okay, first things first: The infiltration actually went swimmingly. We just should have kept quiet and let the professionals handle their jobs. Because as it turns out, making distracting noises outside of a building full of gangers tends to attract a whole lot of gangers. Whodathunk?

So Speedrun honored his name and started driving speedfully, the gangers on motorcycles hot on our heels, Elf_Queen and another spirit trying to crash them with hacking and magic respectively. Except... now that we were gone, what were the others supposed to do? Walk their way to the mall on foot? While trying to evade a whole, angry gang?

A: "You gotta turn the van around!"

S: "What, no! I'm not going back there, they can fight on their own just fine!"

(OOC, one of the players whose character was in the building "Man, I'm so happy we agreed on such a great plan. And also that I know I can always rely on my team mates <3)

A: "But consider: They have the compound."

S: *sighs and turns the van around*

Long story short: We got the dudes, we got the material. Next up: Meeting with Lohan.

A: "Hello Lohan, here's Alberich."

L: "Who?"

A: *thinking: Oh yeah right, he's not used to me going by that name yet* um... Alberich, you know? We got the compound"

L: "Oh, yes, right. Meet me at the pier at (address)."

What I failed to mention last time is that Lohan, even though he's Alberich's friend and he cherishes him, has a really bad habit: He pretty much looks down on everyone who isn't also awakened. A fact that makes Alberich wince every time he starts using "really... slow... speech..." to talk to them stupid mundanes. When we arrive at the pier though, he seems so content with their work that even his bad habit is forgotten. Unfailingly polite, he offers the runners an additional boon.

Do you see where this is going? Cause I fucking didn't.

The container almost touched that troll mages hand, when the coin dropped that this wasn't Lohan. It was that damn toxic shaman.

As soon as Shere Khan snatched it away, he - actually she - exploded into insects and started hitting us with waves of acid. Speedrun unsheathed his katana Baba Yaga went to town on her with his gun and Alberich heroically ran away (did I mention that I was a bad player? I had no idea how tough trolls really are. I would have been fine.)

With a "and I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn't for you meddling kids!!!" - she finally turned into a swarm of insects and flew away. And we were finally ready to collect our actual reward. Cause yeah, as it turned out, Lohan had been safely waiting for our return at the shop - his line had been intercepted by the Swamp Thangs.

Poor Alberich hadn't known that, though. Which is why he proceeded to bear-hug his oldest friend to the latters embarassment.

L: "Woah, oh, er... you really don't have to- there's people here-"

A: "I've seen you explode into roaches today. Just let me have this."

#shadowrun #goblinization #troll #shaman #toxic shaman #ttrpg

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binxisaphe · 5 years

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A hand brushed down the neck of the large bird. Gliding over sun soaked orange feathers. Drawing the chocobos attention to the small Keeper that had entered the worn down stable silently.

Binxi smiled up at the bird before continuing to inspect the creature. Running a hand over the chocobos back. He was old, the orange in the birds feathers where quickly giving away to grey. Past his prime. He had originally came to the stables looking for the chocobo to pull a plow. His sisters had told them that they had one for the job. But he had expected one... Younger? This chocobo looked as if he was reaching far into its lifespan. Sighing inwardly as he finished his cursory inspection. He glanced around the stables.

It was built big enough to house more but this was all they had. It wouldn't work, the bird was too old. He'd likely keel over from exhaustion from plowing a field. Turning pale eyes back towards the bird he couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity with the creature. Was this the same...?

His ears flickered at the sound of footsteps entering the stables, breaking his train of thought. Turning to look only to see Cia standing there staring back at him. Chin held high as she regarded him with a cool expression. But he could see it, the small twinge of irritation just around the eyes. She was still mad he had dressed her down and switched her with a tree branch the other day.

He decided to speak first. "So you've come to tell me to clear out again? To leave, huh?" His face was calm but he couldn't keep the defiance out of his voice. His sister must've picked up on it because her features twisted into a mask of anger as soon as she heard it. Opening her mouth to shout at him again. But to his surprise and with visible effort she smoothed her features into a semblance of calm. Even if the words that came next where clipped and curt.

"No. I have thought it over and Mia agrees with me. You should be allowed to stay. To help. If that's what you're truly after. We can't manage the farm alone. So if you would help to see our clan restored to what it was, we'd allow it." He just stared back at his sister. No doubt this was Mia's doing. She must have talked some sense into her finally. "But..." But. He knew there was going to be a catch. There's always a catch.

"But. If you're going to stay. Return to us. Then you have to live by the laws of our clan. Do what's expected of you by your Matriarch." He turn to face her fully, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for her to get to the point. Speaking up only to encourage her to speak plainly. "Spit it out already."

It was surprising when his sister actually shifted her feet. Glancing around the stables as if she didn't want to be there or say what she was about to. But that surprise quickly turned to suspicion. "You remember the pact that would be struck when one of ours would take a mate with another from another clan? We need you to do that now. Make ties with the other clans, multiple ties. You are the last eligible male of our clan, so that responsibility falls on you now." Her words had started slow but rushed out as she continued. He just stared back at his sister as she nodded to herself as if affirming what she said with a gesture.

"No." He said it so easily that it didn't even seem to register with Cia at first. Turning back to face the bird he ruffled at the feathers on its neck. But not before he saw the confusion in his sister's face. "W-what do you mean no?! That’s what we decided. Do you not care about the future of our people?!"

"Seems to me you're doin' alright on your own in that regard. You and Mia have plenty of children. Why are you after more...?" He turned partly to look back towards his sister. She had found time to collect herself while his back was turned, but the question still drew a sigh of irritation from her.

"Not for us. For the girls. Eventually they'll be old enough, and they are the future of this clan. They're going to need those ties to other clans. They cannot manage the fields entirely on their own. You, me. Mia. We will not always be here. Quite frankly, I am not sure how you have the energy to do what you've done already." The irritation in her voice slowly died and shifted to curiosity and then... concern? He hadn't been expecting that.

He just waved off the concern. "I have my ways." He wasn't about to go into explaining his training with the the Fist of Rhalgr and Chakras and the boon of the destroyer. Or the fact that he was relying on those gifts heavily. "It would be helpful if the children's fathers where here to help, and since we're on the topic. Where are they? Did you not bind them to the land with the pact?"

It was his sister who looked chagrined by the question. Shuffling her feet and glancing back towards the entrance of the stables, as if looking for a distraction to save her from answering. No luck, she was going to have to swallow her pride. "My two eldest. Their fathers are not to return. The one who sired my other three returns on occasion."

His lips where drawn into a frown. "And Mia?" He asked expectantly. But something she said clicked in his mind. "Wait... what do you mean they are not to return?"

Cia sighed as she began her explanation. Her voice slowly growing harder with resentment. "I made poor choices with them Binx'sae. They where not very kind with me. They where not good men. They are not allowed to return here." She let that explanation hang in the air. Her voice softened a touch as she offered a weak smile. "As for Mia. her children are all fathered by the same man. He comes by regularly to check on us."

He just stared at his sister. "Well then... why in the seven hells am I out there in the field working it alone?! If the other two still come by then make them honor their pact and work the fields." The keeper bristled with irritation. Up until he returned, it had looked like the fields had gone to seed and remained untouched for years. "Also, why is it Mia only takes one mate? If these ties are so important. Why force this on me alone?"

She rounded on Binx'sae, some of the heat returning to her voice. "They are not farmers, you idiot. They don't know what to do. But now that you're here, you can show them. I’m... I’m sure they'll honor their pact." Her voice wavered with uncertainty near the end. But quickly hardened in defense of her younger sister. "Mia is different. She found someone. Someone that actually cares for her. I didn't have the heart to tell her to... Just let her have this Binx'sae. If one of us can be happy let it be her. I would not have her go through what I did."

Her eyes pleaded with him, staring. Waiting for a response. Finally he just made an irritated noise and turned back to the chocobo. "Fine." That was all he gave her as he reached up and started stroking the birds feathers again. "We're going to need new chocobos. This one is too old." He said offhandedly, switching back to casually talking about work.

"Fine..." Cia echoed the words in disbelief and blinked. His simple agreement not completely sinking in yet. "Where are we to get new ones... with what money?" Then it finally clicked. "Wait, you mean you agree?" She couldn't help but feel relieved, she was almost positive this would of ended in another argument between the two.

Binx'sae glanced back over his shoulder looking towards her. "I said fine, didn't I? Don’t push your luck." Scowling he turned his attention back on the bird in thought before finally letting out a audible sigh. "I'll handle. Don’t worry about the money. We're going to need new chocobos, there's no way around it."

Her tone was lighter now. As if a sudden pressure was lifted from her shoulders. "You don't need to rush out and find them right away. The girls have years until they're ready for that, so take your time." She had been talking about him finding suitable mates. "I’m going to go tell Mia."

She was almost out the door of the stable when Binxi turned to speak to her. Opening his mouth to yell after her before stopping and just sighing again. Great. He moved to turn back to the chocobo until something caught his eye. Freezing him in place. Natoshi. What was that hawk up to now. There eyes locked, and the hawks gaze bore into him unyielding. Saying nothing. Until the creature finally took to the air and flew off. What was he doing here, watching? Shaking his head and pushing it from his mind. Binxi returned to what he was doing. Muttering to himself. "Stupid bird..."

"Kweh?" The chocobo tilted its head to look down at the diminutive Keeper.

"No. Not you." Reaching up he patted the side of the chocobos neck affectionately. Assuring the bird the insult was not intended for it.

#ffxiv rp #balmung rp #crystal data center rp #FFXIV #balmung #crystal data center #rp #wuxiathings #Saphe Clan

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living-after-death-blog1 · 5 years

Text

The Day My Daughter Died.. (An introduction to the end and the beginning)

I received a phone call from my daughter's best friend, Alli, at about 2:30pm on that day. She told me that she had just left work and was on her way to my daughter's house, after receiving a frantic phone call from my daughter's roommate, Kenneth, who said that he had come home and found her unconscious, with a needle in her hand. He had called an ambulance, he had attempted CPR, and was now waiting outside of the house while the emergency personnel did their thing inside.

I think it was already pretty well established that my daughter was gone, and I think that this was probably communicated to me, but my brain literally wouldn't grasp it. I wasn't devastated; I was terrified. I spent the entire conversation (which was probably at least 20 minutes long) thinking that we didn't know anything yet, feeling like I was frozen, like everything around me was happening in slow motion, and that I was just holding my breath until the moment when Alli could finally get to the house and someone could tell us what was going on. I thought we were waiting to hear that she'd been trànsported or something. It honestly hadn't occurred to me until just now that simply knowing that Kenneth had attempted CPR should have been enough information to answer to the only question that was looping through my mind, over and over, until Alli arrived. "Is she breathing?"

I was 4 hours away, in another city.

Once Alli arrived, there were people everywhere; policemen, emergency responders, tons of neighborhood spectators, and Kenneth, the roommate. I was still on the phone, waiting, while he and Alli had a brief conversation, which I couldn't really hear and I finally interrupted to ask what I thought we'd been waiting to find out this whole time.. "But.. is she still breathing?"

At that point, I heard Alli take a deep breath and, very slowly, and with such pain, she said the words that made it real.

"No, Stephanie. She's gone."

I remember taking a deep breath and saying, "Okay."

It almost felt like, "Well.. Here we are. This is actually happening. You know, that thing that happens to other people, but not your child, not you? It's happening. Right now."

Another deep breath, and once again, " Okay.. "

I remember thinking that I needed to hold it together somehow, because I was going to have to handle and figure out a lot of things, and I really, really needed to be able to think. I just had to think. Figure this all out somehow, as if it were a problem that could be solved.

I did what I've always done when I need to call upon an extreme coping skill. I stopped feeling, and I started thinking. Intellectualizing, my therapist, Becca, the one from my daughter's first treatment center, used to call it.

I called upon that skill in that moment. Think. Think about what other people are going through, feeling, experiencing. Think about how everyone else feels, so you don't have to look at what this really is. Don't even get close to it.

That is the moment that I apologized to Alli for having to be the one to make such a horrible phone call, telling someone's mother that they are dead, and thanked her for being that person, at the same time. I thanked her for being a good friend. I told her I loved her. Said I'd be available for the police or whoever needs to speak to next of kin, and told her to give them my number.

I called my boyfriend first, in a panic; I had to get home, I had to get to Houston, and I had to get there NOW. I couldn't drive, and all I could think was how I needed to get there, I had to get there, and I needed to get there NOW. No answer.

I called my ex-husband (not the father of my daughter, but of two sons, ages 15 and 18, at the time) and, not realizing that the boys were in the car with him or that he had answered on speaker, I started screaming that my daughter was dead, she was dead, and I didn't know what to do. Of course, after finding out that the boys had overhead, I called both of them to apologize that they had had to hear me like that, to hear the news that way.

I don't remember very much of the next few weeks. The things I do remember are choppy, like random scenes from a movie, but I remember those things vividly.

I realized that I had to tell people. Who? Who is the first person you call to announce your daughter's death?

I called my mom first, I think, and I listened to her sob and repeat, "Noooo..." over and over.

I called my daughter's other grandmother, on her father's side, and I listened as she cried and kept saying, "Oh my god.."

I called my daughter's ex-boyfriend, Javi, the father of my granddaughter, who was 8 at the time, and he couldn't believe it, couldn't accept it, either; jumped in his car to go over there. I guess he needed to see it with his own eyes.

I spoke to another of my daughter's best friends, Jessica (she happened to text me, so I thought she already knew, and when I realized that she didn't, I told her to call me. She asked me, "How bad is it?" I said, "Bad."), and then she, too, immediately drove over to the house to meet up with Alli, Kenneth, and Javi.

I couldn't listen to any more breaking hearts at the moment, so as fucked up as it seems now, I just started texting people.

I texted my friend, Sarah, who, along with her entire family, have been like family to us. I don't even know how I said it. I think I said, "I'm so sorry to tell you like this, but they found her this morning, unconscious, with a needle, and she didn't make it. " Sarah immediately called me, and started screaming, " What? What? " as if she couldn't hear me. Her mind, too, couldn't seem to allow this to be real.

I spoke to my friends, Theresa and Joie, sisters, and they immediately offered all kinds of practical help that hadn't even occurred to me, such as setting up a GoFundMe account to pay for funeral expenses. I had been laid off from my job of over ten years several months prior, and so all of the life insurance policies and everything I'd been so used to just having were no longer available, and I had nothing.

Joie also posted on Facebook on my behalf. It was the only way I could think of to let everyone know, especially my daughter's friends, and it was because of all of these people, and so many more, that I have managed to get through this last year.

I don't know what I did to deserve such wonderful people in my life, but I am surrounded by them. The GoFundMe account reached over $5000 within a couple of days.

My daughter's best friend from middle school is a hair and makeup artist, and she flew in from Colorado to make sure that she was the one who did the makeup for the viewing. That was always their thing, and even though my daughter's addiction had driven them apart over the years, Vikki had to do this one last thing for her friend, and I was happy to have her do it.

Sarah's ex-boyfriend, who knew my daughter as a child, took care of all of the flowers and arrangements.

Sarah's mom has a friend who was able to make a dress for my daughter to wear during the viewing; an Alice in Wonderland dress, because that was always her thing.

Sarah and her mom had already found the cheapest most decent funeral home that they knew of (her mom had used the place for her own mother's service), so I literally spent the next few days just having to answer yes and no questions.

It turned out that since my daughter never divorced the father of her second child (my grandson, Isaac, who was almost 7 at the time), even though they'd been separated and out of contact for a few years (she was engaged to someone else for at least a year), he was her next of kin, not me, and this brought forth a whole host of issues. He doesn't raise their son, his mother does, because he is either 1) insane, 2) brain damaged from drug use, 3) currently using drugs, or 4) a combination of all of the above. These things made the entire process very difficult for me.

They tried to dictate who could be invited to the funeral, which I wasn't on board with. They threatened me by saying that they would have her body transferred to the funeral home of their choosing and they would let me know when and where to show up. They said I could not have any locks of her hair. They said they would not split up her ashes. They even dictated to me that she be cremated, because they somehow knew (having only known her for a few years, and not knowing her at all, really, for the few years prior to her death) that she wanted to be cremated and that she wanted her ashes spread over the ocean.

I won't ever be able to understand why someone would treat the mother of a dead child the way that they treated me, but I've just added them to the list of people I'll have to figure out how to forgive somehow, eventually.

Everyone showed up for us, and I was so grateful for the presence of every single one of them. People I hadn't seen or spoken to in years, such as my ex-husband's ex-boss's ex-wife, lol.

I placed a son for adoption when I was 19, and though I had met him in person once, he and my other kids had not met. He and my daughter had been talking a lot on social media, and he had planned to come visit and meet everyone in May, after he graduated college, but ended up coming in April for her funeral, instead. He never even got to hear her voice.

There is so much I want to use this blog for. I want to document my own journey through this grief. I want to talk about addiction and help destigmatize the way people view addicts. I want to offer resources and maybe even hope. And I want to remember my daughter.

Her name was Jade. She was 26 years old when she died. She was one of the funniest, coolest, most creative, beautiful people you could have ever known. Yes, the addiction was a part of her journey, her struggle, but she was more than that. And I intend to honor ALL of who she was, by speaking the truth.

The truth is that she died from the toxic effects of an accidental overdose of heroin and methamphetamine. But that's just one part of her story, and mine, and I need to tell them both, even if no one ever reads a single word I type. I need to tell these stories.

Since I started with her death, here is a photo recap of what there is to know so far:

#grief #overdose #addiction #loss #bereavement #grieving

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