#empty vessels make the loudest sound

[madamemachikonew]

It's sad that you've chosen to bring politics into your blog. Innocent people in Israel and Palestine are both being affected by the actions of terror groups, so why are saying "Free Palestine" and ignoring the suffering of millions of Israeli Jews, Muslims, Christians, Druze, etc?

I didn't bring it into my blog though. Somebody sent unsolicited fake propaganda to me. I simply responded to that. Your ask once again brings the politics into my space and expressly seeks commentary, under the protective veil of anonymity.

As a half-Palestinian (based overseas) with branches of family on both sides of the border, I don't owe you or anyone else any explanation for not wanting my family to be ethnically cleansed by genocidaires, their culture and history erased, and having what precious little remains of their land stolen from under them to hand over to extremist settlers who literally want them dead (irrespective of whether they are Muslim, Christian or Druze) because of a destructive ideology.

And so you ask me 'why are you saying "Free Palestine" [...]?'

Asking for Palestinian civilians not to be murdered in cold blood or forcibly displaced does not equate advocating violence against other people or ignoring their suffering. Expressing objections to the actions of a government or apartheid ideology does not equate hostility or indifference towards ordinary civilians living under that government or support for terror groups.

So you are extrapolating and drawing a false equivalence because I didn't include an exhaustive list of every group you wanted in a freaking hashtag; classic 'I like pancakes' 'So you hate waffles?' fallacy. Your ask is akin to replying 'All lives matter' to a BLM post.

But it remains an incontrovertible fact that at the present time, Palestinians of all religions are being massacred and having buildings flattened at a wholly disproportionate rate to other civilians in the immediate region, in flagrant violation of international humanitarian law. The military machine is being funded by some of the world's biggest superpowers and civilians have nowhere to flee or access to resources. It's like medieval siege warfare but on a national scale. There is also a massive disparity in the quality of life for civilians in Palestine compared to those in Israel due to long-standing obstructive practices concerning access to basic amenities, border control and import control. For many years it has been for all intents and purposes an open prison. "Free Palestine" encompasses allowing them to have basic living standards and human rights on a par with their neighbours at a very minimum.

I say a very minimum because I am well aware of how many ethnicities and religions are treated as second class citizens in Israel by its apartheid regime, including some of its own Jews (eg. branches of Judaism that don't support or recognise the current State as politically or theologically valid). If you want to see Israel's track record for treating its own Jews of Arab or African ethnicity, look up how naturalised Israeli-Ethiopian Jews regularly suffer racial discrimination and the frankly stomach-churning Yemenite Children Affair.

The apartheid has been going on for generations and needs to stop. And I am so very tired of having to justify asking for my family to be recognised as human beings without having some sort of accusation thrown at me.

This is the last post on this matter.

Anon asks will be closed for the foreseeable.

#anon ask #whataboutism #tone policing #Also where on earth have you been? My Pantalone fics are inherently political #try reading less smut fics and more history books #empty vessels make the loudest sound

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

The Whip Hand • Aegis • Dyslexicon • Empty Vessels Make the Loudest Sound • The Malkin Jewel • Lapochka • In Absentia • Imago • Molochwalker • Trinkets Pale of Moon • Vedamalady • Noctourniquet • Zed and Two Naughts

Spotify ♪ YouTube

#hyltta-polls #polls #artist: the mars volta #language: english #decade: 2010s #Progressive Rock #Art Rock #Psychedelic Rock #Experimental Rock #Neo-Psychedelia #Space Rock Revival #Progressive Electronic

[cajon-desastre]

An empty vessel makes the loudest sound, so they that have the least wit are the greatest babblers.

Plato

#this #this fandom #quotes and gif

[saturnaous]

4. What is your favorite book? 10. What is a fact about you that nobody would believe? 15. Describe yourself in one sentence. 20. What's a totally random and useless fact that you know? 23. What is your longest friendship? 26. How are you feeling right now? 29. Favorite song lyrics right now? 35. What kind of first impression do you think you make on people?

hehe :))

4. What is your favorite book? rgorguhurghhuuguaurhnruna WRITHES AROUND ON THE GROUND. Honestly I'm not the biggest reader, so I'm going to point at my Last ROnin Director's cut over in my boy window. A comic it is but a book nonetheless. no more questions /silly

10. What is a fact about you that nobody would believe? hrmg. maybe that uhmmmm me and my brother are straight up like celestial twins as my mother calls it. p cool.

15. Describe yourself in one sentence. My groove offputs people quite often and that's fine with me!

20. What's a totally random and useless fact that you know? I have a shitton of these! Sandcats don't actually need water; they get all their hydration from their prey! Sheep produce something in their skin that helps sooth any nicks or cuts they might get. In the Greek Myth where Hades and Persephone get married, we don't actually know what the pomegranate seeds symbolize! Dragonflies are the most lethal predator with a 95% success rate for hunting!!

23. What is your longest friendship? Hmmm. Technically I have a friend from second grade that I'm still on general good terms with, even if we don't talk much. I also have a few friends from my parent's friends that I've basically known since I was in my dad's balls. So!! Pretty damn long.

26. How are you feeling right now? Ehhh I'm doing pretty good honestly!! It's a bit late and both of my pals are dealing with some stuff currently, which I feel bad about especially since I'm on a silly wavelength that I can't really match with them very well. I'm missing peppermint butler terribly, and I'm excited to sketch him in a second. music :)

29. Favorite song lyrics right now? Fuck this is a hard one!!! Honestly I've been really enjoying the whole Chorus of Empty Vessels Make the Loudest Sounds by The Mars Volta. hohenheim core to me. "Higher than mountains of cavernous people, searing for a lighthouse in the fog". Very swag.

35. What kind of first impression do you think you make on people? Probably that I'm weird honestly. Eccentric. Loud. I hope I get across my joy and whimsy, but I think most people just think I'm weird and loud. Which is understandable!! But yeah :)

#asks #heehoo. . .. writhes around on the groumnd

[4nd7ro]

empty vessels make the loudest sounds

[nixthehomunculus]

tagged by @corvus-pictor >:3

for a url playlist tag

Noorus - Chelsea Wolfe

If you... - Swans

Xerces - Deftones

Talk about the weather - Red Lorry Yellow Lorry

Hostage master - Lil Ugly Mane

Empty Vessels Make the Loudest Sound - The Mars Volta

Heliotropic - Failure

O - iamamiwhoami

Me and maxine - King 810

Ugliest - suicideboys

Nowhere to hide now - Ghostpoet

Charlotte - Slint

Urantia - Deftones

La petite mort - King 810

Under heaven - Yung Lean

Sunstorm - Chelsea Wolfe

tagging @hecatesdogs @violentviolette @buttercupclown @alleycatboy @vampsilk @eaterofdreams @deathmetalfaggot @cryptid-corpse @snailtrailzz @insectcemetery @dirtnote @curbstompbarbie @hauntsofmen @lilworms

#i tried to make them flow into each other a little #those might be some of the only songs ik that start with the letter u i won't lie #whether y'all do it or not im putting a kiss on my sweater paw and bapping you with it #tag game

[rabbit-habits]

@saltedpin​ tagged me to do the ‘ten songs you’re vibing to right now’ meme the other day! So here it is! In reality, most of the time I’m just listening to whatever YouTube puts in the My Mix playlist, but here are some songs I’ve actively sought out recently. Hopefully the links will work! Thank you for the tag, @saltedpin! I tag whoever would like to share their favorite music!

1. Sinnerman - Nina Simone

2. Empty Vessels Make the Loudest Sound - The Mars Volta. One of three songs that will kill me if played in combination with one another.

3. For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her - Simon & Garfunkel. The live versions where Art Garfunkel really lets loose are better.

4. Steak Knives - Man Man. I’m assuming the title refers to the knives this song stabs into me.

5. Burning Bride - Shilpa Ray. This version is so much better than the album version, though that too is excellent.

6. Now I’m Gone - Beirut

7. Bachelorette - Björk. I dream of writing a story that manages to convey the lines “I'm a path of cinders/Burning under your feet/You're the one who walks me/I'm your one way street”

8. One More Cup of Coffee - The White Stripes doing a haunting cover of Bob Dylan. I used to listen to this on repeat for my whole commute.

9. Wide Lovely Eyes - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. One of the songs I wanted played at my hypothetical funeral (hypothetical because I’m not going to have a funeral, not because I’m immortal) until it was replaced by “Distant Sky”. However, if I hear one note of “Distant Sky” right now, I will actually collapse, so here’s “Wide Lovely Eyes”!

10. Clouds - The Mars Volta. Another Mars Volta! Basically, if a faithful family servant was talking to me about my favorite bands, I’d be like, “Nelly, I AM The Mars Volta. They’re always, always in my mind...as my own being.” I played this particular song over and over the night Trump got elected, and I’ve been playing it a lot recently. I associate it with immense grief while still loving it.

Bonus: Nisi Dominus - Cum Dederit - Antonio Vivaldi, sung by Andreas Scholl. YouTube recommended a video comparing a bunch of singers singing this to determine which was the best, and Scholl wasn’t even included, which infuriated me to the point that I’m sharing it here!

#music #meme

[theskeletoninthegarden]

Empty Vessels Make the Loudest Sound

#youtube #the mars volta

[petervirtus]

The empty Vessel, Makes the loudest sound!

$frgst #crypto #BTC    #meme #froggiestoken

Join us: t.me/officialfroggi…

[things2mustdo]

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle”

“The one who learns and learns and doesn’t practice is like the one who plows and plows and never plants.”

“Good people do not need laws to tell them to act responsibly, while bad people will find a way around the laws.”

“The beginning is the most important part of the work.”

“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.”

For a man to conquer himself is the first and noblest of all victories.

The greatest wealth is to live content with little.

Excellence is not a gift, but a skill that takes practice. We do not act rightly because we are excellent, in fact we achieve excellence by acting rightly.

When you feel grateful, you become great, and eventually attract great things.

There are two things a person should never be angry at, what they can help, and what they cannot.

Bodily exercise, when compulsory, does no harm to the body; but knowledge which is acquired under compulsion obtains no hold on the mind.

An empty vessel makes the loudest sound, so they that have the least wit are the greatest babblers.

The measure of a man is what he does with power.

The right question is usually more important than the right answer.

Man is a being in search of meaning.

Never discourage anyone who continually makes progress, no matter how slow.

#Plato

[melodiesandmemories]

↳ Oh, wow, is that MICHELLE DOCKERY? Never mind, it’s just BEATRICE ‘BEA’ VICTORIA HUGHES, the 42/300 year old CIS DEMIROMANTIC DEMISEXUAL VAMPIRE. I did hear that SHE is BENEVOLENT & TEMPERANT but also really INDECISIVE & NERVOUS.  (Tasha || EST || She/Her) Verse: Supernatural

Bea’s Muse Page!

#;tag dump #🔮🥀 Bea Hughes #🔮🥀 {The Ruminator} Bea's Reference #🔮🥀 {Let me be that I am & seek not to alter me} Bea's Visage #🔮🥀 {Give every man thy ear...} Bea's Conversations #🔮🥀 {The empty vessel makes the loudest sound} Bea's Musings #🔮🥀 {If music be the food of love; play on} Bea's Playlists #//more tags to be added as she interacts with more people!

[howxforeverxfeels]

#🥀 bea hughes #🥀 {the empty vessel makes the loudest sound} bea's musings #🥀 {the ruminator} bea's reference #🥀 {in your dreams; whatever they be; dream a little dream of me} serafina

[erregent]

@creatorofclay​ // cont.

            he gets a response and for a second gavin is relieved, because nothing feels more like getting picked last and kickball then someone just ignoring a text. a hand out. he didn’t have to try and extend the branch, elijah doesn’t have to respond but eventually he does and the detective now has plans for the evening.

            relief vanishes then because he has plans for the the fuckin’ evening. he’s not a big drinker, doesn’t revisit places often and hasn’t in awhile, at least no where nice and white collar. was the father of all android’s going to be caught dead in a dive? he doesn’t know, tries to will his paranoia down a bit to let him respond:

CONVERSATION;; bitchski

[MSG] pssh. ur the billionaire. u should b treating me. [MSG] i’ll text u the address. c u in 30.

             and text he does, a bar near-by the precinct that’s mostly filled with cops and emt workers on late shift. the least likely place someone’s gonna do something stupid. 

#( EMPTY VESSELS MAKE THE LOUDEST SOUNDS // creatorofclay ) #me: dying #gavin texts like a 16yo

[in-my-thinking]

“empty vessels make the loudest sound”

Plato

#quotes on tumblr #quotes of the day #quote of the month #quote

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

Silent Night [1]

Andy Barber x Fem!Reader (AU!A Quiet Place)

Warnings: Creatures, Blood, Stitches, Post-Apocalyptic Summary: In the town of Newton, it was silent. Everyone in the world were killed by unknown species that can hear you from miles. You’re alone in an empty town. No one was ever found during the year and you’ve gone quite crazy. Wondering in a neighborhood, you run into a survivor and he protects you from the creature lurking in the dark.

SPOOKY SCARY STORIES #DinoScaryStories2020

Join by checking out the LINK HERE! Hurry, there may be some films left to claim! First come, first serve!

Write your own story corresponding or goes to the film! Let this be an example, if you will.

Word Count: 4000+ [Yeah. I went a little crazy on this one]

Day 292

The trees began to rustle against each other down the silent road of Newton. The silence was like this for 291 days. The counting of days were important to you. It was hard to look at every day but you needed some relief that you’ve survived this long. You don’t remember how the world ended up like this. You were on your way to work before something large jumped on a large bus and killed everyone in less than 5 minutes.

You were able to drive off with the amount of distractions. Studying these alien-hybrids, they were sensitive with hearing. They could hear you from miles. The slightest squeak from a mouse, that mouse will not be alive. You claimed to have seen 3 roam around the area. Who knew if there were more outside of this country or the state.

You had no idea how to get rid of them, you just learned not to make a sound. 

No sign of people were found in the area. You were scared to be the only one. It was almost making you insane. 

Walking barefoot was something you had to do, in order to keep quiet. Your feet were torn up and dried. They were sore all the time from walking to find shelter and food. The town was not raided much since everyone had been murdered. You feared you might make the wrong step and get yourself killed.

You couldn’t bother calling anyone you knew. The towers were shut off and if you had the chance to, they would get killed by those things. You figured to leave Massachusetts to find people around. Someone outside of the state, find better shelter. 

And that’s what you were doing at this moment. Searching stores to find band aids, medicine and food. You found cans and slipped them into your bag. You had no idea how to open them without making a sound. Put a cloth over them was an idea to open it without a sound but you needed more things. Slowly you slipped the items in your bag and made sure they never made a sound even if you moved.

After raiding the store, you stepped out and made your way down the road. Passing by the courthouse that was torn from the outside. The front doors were ripped open from something trying to get in. You never saw signs of people who died. The creatures didn’t seem to leave a single part. You kept walking for the next hour, seeing the sun get lower than ever.

You needed to find a nearby neighborhood fast and get to an open door. You came across a small neighborhood and began to search the homes. You tried to open the doors softly to not make a sound. Most of the doors were locked and you needed to hurry. You came across a home that looked open. The driveway was some way to hide and find a way in quietly.

You made your way up to the driveway and heard low growling behind but it sounded a ways down the street. You turn back to see a flash of dark before a hand comes over your mouth and the force pulls you back into the side of the house.

You hear the growl and you shut up, you’re frozen in whoever’s arms you were in. The man looks over your shoulder and removes his hand from your mouth and held his index finger to his lips. Be quiet.

The creature walks down the street, its low growls rumbled in your ears like a motor from a exotic car or a large lion in a cage in hunger. Though it couldn’t see you, you were frozen under the man’s touch. His blue eyes stare at you and he slowly stands up and softly pulls you up, guiding you behind the house. He looked behind to make sure the monster was occupied with a snap of a twig down the street.

He guided you into the home and he lets you go, turning to close the door and gently clicked it closed. He turns to you and his brows raise up at you and his head tilts down. You okay?

You nod once. I’m fine. His hands raises up and you noticed his fingers twitched in signs. His brows still raised, “I’m Andrew. I’m not going to hurt you.” His hand reaches out to somewhat give you a gentle sign of ‘I’m calm and I’m friendly’. You understood Sign Language. It was something you learned in high school. Your hands lifted up and your hands bent to sign.

“I’m Y/N.”

He grins softly and raises his hands up again, his index fingers coming together. “Nice to meet you.” You look down to see his forearm. The vibrant color of red was oozing down his arm and your face drops in worry. Then your hands lift up, “You’re hurt.”

The man follows suit of your gaze and turns away to find something to wrap it. You instantly grab his arm to stop him and you slid off your bag. “Let me help you.” You sat him down on the couch and you dug through your bag and he peered inside to see the amount of medication, cans of food and supplies that were needed in his own space. 

He had gone out almost every day. Never saw someone or animals. You came in like God had sent you down. He wasn’t a man of prayer, but since this whole thing came down, he started to. You were like an angel. An angel in disguise of dirtied clothes and he knew you would have a voice like no other. When you touched his arm, he winced and grabbed your wrist to stop you. He shook his head.

Not here.

He knew a place and took your hand, guiding you into the other room. A door that might lead to a closet. But when he opens it slowly, his arm was dripping with blood, a new blood vessel bothered by your own touch and covered the dried blood from a week ago. You look down to see the basement stairs and he stepped down carefully and you followed with your bag in hand.

He motions you to close the door and so you did. The door was covered with foam, even the walls. The foam were all dirtied and probably ripped from the mattresses or things he found outside.

The room was completely covered in foam and you placed your bag on the table. Firefly lights were all around and even a radio was near where your bag was placed. You reached for it and saw the stations.

“I tried to listen for people-” You turned around and held your hand up to stop him, your eyes widen in fear by his voice. You held your other hand to your lips. His reaction was calm and he pulled his hand up to you. “Relax. Nothing can hear us down here. The foam.” You look around the room to hear anything above you two. Nothing heavy or loud growls.

Your breathing was so heavy, it was the only thing you could hear. “As I was saying. The radio is damaged but I was able to fix parts of it and I tried every station. I couldn’t hear anyone. I even tried the departments. Military,” He says. Your gaze follows the walls and your hand grazes the edge of the table.

“Is there anyone else with you?” You asked quietly as if you weren’t confident and brave enough to speak even if he told you it was okay to. His face told you the story already with the frozen look, you could see he was reliving the whole event in his mind. “No. I lost my son in a coma a year ago. My wife was killed later on.” 

“Did it get her?” You ask another.

His eyes turned away and his chest rises to take in the thin humid air of the basement. You see the blood drip down his arm and you grab your bag. “Here.” You take your bag in hand and helped him to the chair, “Sit down.” He follows your order and sat in front of you. 

“This might hurt,” You say to him. He doesn’t say anything as he watches you pull his sleeve back. A large gash in his arm, you couldn’t help but wince at the scene. “What happened?” You asked, grabbing the belt from the bag and wrapped it around his arm.

“I was in town, looking for-” You cut him off when you tighten the belt above his gash to stop the bleeding. He groans in pain. “Fuck!” He hisses. You cringe to the sight of blood gushes out. You pull something out of your bag and held it up. “Bite on this. You’re not going to feel pleasant for this.” You pull out a bottle of alcohol and he grits his teeth. “Jesus Christ.” He puts the item between his teeth and he cranes his neck back to not look down. He looks back down out of fear just as you poured it onto the wound and he shouts in pain, his other hand slamming onto the armrest. 

“Are you a doctor?” He asks, after spitting out the object in his mouth. His chest heaves up and down. Your brows furrowed into a focusing stare, “Medical Academy in high school. Felt like Dr. Meredith Grey in Grey’s Anatomy.” Andrew chuckles, breathlessly till you cut him off again by adding your skills onto his wound. You stitched it up, patched it and wrapped it tight but enough to let the blood flow through his body again.

“Try not to use it,” You warn nonchalantly. He nods once and rolls his bloodied sleeve down, “I’ll try not to.” You were calm around him throughout the rest of the day. The creature didn’t seem to roam the neighborhood but he had been staying in the basement ever since.

“I guess I tend to snore very loud,” He jokes, making you smile at the least. The first night you stayed with him, it wasn’t too uncomfortable. You believed it was the best sleep you’ve had for a long time. You never worried about how loud you were. Your brain was the loudest of it all. It made so much noise of static, you tossed and turned. 

It was Day 304. Almost two weeks with Andrew had never been more comforting than it was alone. Without a doubt, you felt his hand come to contact with your back. But in your head you didn’t think of it. You were sure your mind was making up some kind of comfort. But it was Andrew. 

That morning you were packing your things in your backpack. Andrew shift awake and saw you. “Where you going?” He asks with what was his hoarse voice. Your backpack swung on your shoulders and you paused for a beat. “I need to go. Look for supplies for your arm.”

His eyes glance at his arm that was seeping a bit with his blood so the man grunts, sitting up. “His head hung, “If you’re going I’m coming with you.”

There was no reason to argue with him. Even if you did, it would be you two quietly arguing back and forth. You waited for him to get himself ready. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows, you noticed how dirty his shirt was covered in. The sweat collecting on his forehead already from the basement heat. He nods to encourage you both to head up and officially become silent as a mouse. 

Andrew was the first to step out into the neighborhood. He made sure nothing was around and he held his hand out to motion you forward. Once you met at his side, his hands lifted up, brows raised up. “Town is down the street. Might be a good idea to go.” You nodded on where he pointed.

He points again, “Cold Spring Park is not far.” He motions you to follow him and so you did. You both were barefoot. Feet dirtied, bruised and cut from the journeys you took to get yourself here. His weren’t as bad as yours. You both walked onto a trail with the large sign, Cold Spring Park. You weren’t familiar with it but Andrew always made eye contact with the creek in the park. 

The trail ended and there were schools, homes and supermarkets. Cars were impacted either with each other or into poles and stores. Andrew’s eyes were squinted to look upon the street ahead. It was silent. You held tightly onto your backpack straps and felt his hand latch onto your shoulder and pointed to the open store. You both walked over there and he points to the shattered glass. Watch your step.

He was the first to enter through the shattered window and he turns to you, holding his hand out for you. You took his hand and watched your step as he somewhat carried you in. You both took foot into the store and saw a bit of what remained in the store. Andrew glances over to you and points at one of the aisles. I’ll head down this one.

You nod at him and went your own way down the other. Searching what was left, you picked things up from the shelf and then checked their dates or read what they could do to help you and your partner. Canned foods were found along the shelves and they weren’t things you liked but they had to be something. Looking over the shelves, Andrew was not in your sight. Your brows furrowed, you couldn’t call out for his name. You watched your step as you tried to make your way to the end of the aisle. 

Just as you got to the end, you jump to the sight of him almost lunging at you. Your breath was caught in your throat as he holds his hand up to you. Then he puts it to his chest in a fist, “Sorry.” The sincere look on his face was believable so you continued your way to the back of the store. Andrew makes his way to the back of the room, entering another room for employees only as you scanned the shelves of small debris and rotting food that were probably scavenged days ago. 

You find more medical supplies that were remaining and then you felt Andrew tap your shoulder. You turned and your eyes look down to the large shotgun in his hands, your eyes widen and the pair look back up to him, shockingly. His head tilts and his face drops, shaking his head. You mouthed, “No.”

He turns you around so he could slip the shotgun into your bag, it stuck out of the bag but he managed to get it to fit. He then lifts up his hands, brows raised up to reason with you, “Not loaded. For our safety.”

Your hands lift up, brows furrowed in fear to show him how nervous you were, “How would it help?” Andrew pauses for a moment and your head tilts to the side. He sighs softly, “It will help. Trust me. There are still people out there.” You couldn’t argue further because he did have some points in his reasoning. You never saw people when you walked around town, but if you and Andrew were both still alive, there was a sign others would be out there.

And they don’t plan on trusting others on their team.

That day, the sun was slowly coming down. And Andrew insisted on taking the trail again, before you two went down that road, you looked into a car to find things. The doors were open, glass were all on the floor and on the chairs. Blood stained the seats and the keys still remained in the ignition. Andrew watched your back as you did this, you slowly opened the glovebox and found a small music player. 

It was still in good condition. The earbuds were attached and you thought about it. You took them. It wasn’t useful, but it would be something to calm you in your sleep. Andrew never minded what you were doing and you walked back to the basement with him. It was quiet throughout your walk. Dumbfounded at yourself, you had to. You had to keep your thoughts of questions memorized throughout the walk back.

Caught a couple snap of twigs in the forest but they never triggered any other species around. 

Andrew let you go first down the stairs and followed behind, closing the door. Once you both stood in the basement, Andrew goes for the shotgun first. You slightly gasped, “Be careful with that, Andrew.” He pauses for a moment and lays it on the table, “I will. Trust me. This could do us some good.”

“But it can draw attention.”

Andrew ignores your last comment and pulls the shells for the gun on the table. You continued to pull out the medical supplies, “I’m gonna need to replace your bandage,” You say. Andrew doesn’t fight you back to say I’m fine. He sits down and you put his arm in your lap and unraveled the bandage. “Andy.”

You peer up at him, his eyes watched your hands carefully till they meet yours. “Not many call me Andrew. If it’s better, you can call me Andy.” You grin softly and shook your head. “They’re both two syllables. Nothing too different about them.” Andy grins and watches as you peeled the used patch off, revealing the ruined skin.

Andy hissed a bit as you cleaned the blood around it, the skin that was stitched together was evident like a large vein. You cleaned it enough to finish it off by patching it again. “I would’ve died from bleeding or an infection if you weren’t here.” You grinned softly at that and lifted your head up at him. “I guess we’re both lucky.” His stare on you was longer than you expected.

Once you wrapped his arm, you looked up to him. His blue eyes searched for some spark in your eyes, shifting from your left to your right. Then when his eyes landed on your lips for a split second. You knew what was going to happen. Your head turns, inhaling softly, “We should head to bed.”

He didn’t show any signs of embarrassment. He could only nod and sigh, “Yeah. We should. We can go out. Look for some things out there. Useful to us.” He began to get comfortable on the one bed he had and shared with you. You two always stayed apart and you thought to ease your nightmares, toss and turns, you took out the music player you had. 

Surely the creatures could not hear the music, you hoped it had good songs. Calming and safe songs. You got into bed and turned your back to Andy, facing the wall. You felt him pull the covers over you and turned away like you did. Back-to-back as usual. The heat in the basement wasn’t good for you. The music played and you slipped the buds into your ears and found the songs calming.

Your mind going to the places where this wasn’t happening. Where you had a nice family, friends and a good job. At that moment, you stayed up for hours, going over those memories. You sighed softly and turned onto your other side and your eyes opened slowly to see Andy facing you. His eyes were closed but he looked tensed like you were. Nervousness. Fear. His eyes opened to feel your gaze and he sees you looking at him for an answer. Neither of you had one.

You didn’t know what to say.

Roslyn by Bon Iver played on a loop. You took the idea and slipped one of the buds out of your ears and handed it to him. His eyes followed your hand and took it, not hesitating to put it in his ear, curiously wondering what you were listening to. Once he did, you could feel his shoulders relax in that moment. He sees your eyes close to listen to the soft music play in your ears. His grin softly lifted but it dropped slowly. 

Eyes opening to look at him, his lips parted to say something. He felt more embarrassed to sit there dumbfounded till his body lifts up and your back turns to lay flat on the mattress as Andy head hovers over yours and his lips crash onto yours. The music still playing in your guys’ ears, you kissed back. His hand gently on your hip. His other arm resting near your head, your head tilts to deepen the kiss and Andy sighs on your lips when your hand tugs his jeans.

Day 315

The next weeks, you and Andy tried to stay alive. You cut your proportions on canned food. Shared a can a day. The markets here weren’t stocked as much as you two hoped. Your cans were stack on stack but they seem to get lower every week. It worried you but traveling around wasn’t much. When you do go out, Andy makes sure he grabs the shotgun, loaded. 

Never once you ran into someone else. It would be some relief for someone to be alive but the fear of them being the enemy. Andy’s arm had began to heal, you made sure no infections were forming. It was a sign of relief. The creatures were never caught near you, yet. Not one of you had made the mistake of making noise.

Andy held the gun tightly to his chest like a man in war. He stood behind you at all times, keeping your back covered as he watched every turn. That endeavor between you and Andy. It became a usual thing. He became more protective than you expected. Nights where he made you forget at times. Nights where you both listened to music. Danced to the slow songs. 

It was something you thought was official. Nowhere to turn. You both had nowhere to run off to. So why leave each other?

You see Andy point to the store, he puts the gun under his arm and his hands lift up, “I’ll be in there, wait here.” He goes in the small store and you looked around to see a car. The doors were all open. Making your way over to the vehicle, you searched every crevice. Newspapers. Keys. Toys. Junk food. You made your way to the passenger side and opened the glovebox. 

Your eyes widen to see something heavy fall from the glovebox and you went to reach for it. And your foot steps on a toy.

“Let’s count to ten!” The toy cheerfully says.

Your heart drops.

“One…” You look around the street to not see anything come just yet. 

“Two…” Your breathing is what you hear. Heart banging against your chest like a bass drum.

“Three…” You’re losing your own hearing, frozen on the spot. “Four…” Tears began to form your eyes. This is it. “Five…” This is it. “Six…” 

This is how you’re going to die. “Seven…” You could hear the birds fly in the sky by something disturbing their rest in the trees. “Eight…” You feel someone pull you away. “Nine…” You hear a loud growl and your hearing comes back. “Ten!” Andy has your hand locked in his. He ducks when the creature crashes into the car where you were at and Andy shoves you to the side. 

“Fantastic!” The toy shouts, leaving it off with a short melody and then stops. You’re 8 feet away from where Andy laid. Both of you stumbled on the ground and the creature’s head turns. The layers on its face peels open like scabs of its skin. The loud purring sound made you hold your breath. Andy has his gun pointed at the creature, ready to blow its head off. 

You’re mentally screaming at him not to. You’ve seen the military take on these things on the news. Their armor is strong. He has no chance. Andy finally looks over to you and he sees you shake your head. His eyes are soft towards as his mouths his last words.

“Run.”

You turn back to the creature and see it walk towards Andy but doesn’t sense him yet. You’re panicking, mind thinking of a plan. Scream. Distract him from Andy. Throw something. You both have the chance. But no better route to escape from. The gun was an option but the armor was going to be a bad idea. Your eyes land on the car keys on the ground. You look over to Andy and he’s completely on his back, gun just a feet away from the creatures face. Its drool landing on Andy’s shirt and staining. He could smell the rot in its breath.

The rumbling sound of its purring felt like thunder. His grip tightens on the gun. Andy’s waiting to do it. 

You grit your teeth.

That will not be your last word, Andy. You push the alarm button on the keys and the car alarm goes off. The creature’s skin lifts up to hear for a split second till Andy fires the shotgun. The creature lunges up and collapses to the side, legs twitching near Andy as he scoots back and you stop the car alarm. Andy stands up and runs over to you. Taking your arm, he drags you both to the alley way. You knew you drew in more of those things by the loud alarm sound.

Andy limping on his foot, he manages to get you guys back home without another scratch. His foot had been aching and you didn’t let him sit down once you got to the porch. You instantly brought him into a hug, letting out a huff of relief. His arm wraps around you securely as he grins softly. 

You pull away and cup his cheek, eyes of worry. He nods with a soft grin. I’m okay. His hand comes up to your cheek, brushing the tear away from yours. 

We’re okay.

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[ofdragonsdeep]

15: Thunderous

The loudest sound to a mind used to song is silence.

(spoilers up to 5.4, and for coils raids)

The whirr of the airship’s fans powering down greeted Ar’telan’s return to Azys Lla. Beyond the dock, half-crazed robots running on broken programs tottered about the rock-and-metal structures of the Alpha Quadrant, heading to do the Twelve only knew what. Ardashir’s workstation was still set up near Helix, though Gerolt had long since departed the area, machines humming and shelves piled high with notes as he continued his research on the concept of anima. He waved at Ar’telan as he passed, Ar’telan nodding back a cheerful greeting as he carefully sidestepped a spinner-rook hurtling past at a dangerous angle.

He had been back to Azys Lla more times than he might have expected, the first time he had come here. The memories of the chase Thordan and his Knights had set them on were still fresh, despite the many moons that had passed since. The buildings and ships still hummed with empty purpose, the dock where the Gration had touched down was empty, but the spaces where the garleans had spilled out of it still bore their mark. So many had died here, and not only for the Allagan’s sake.

He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled. The noise was a pathetic one, given his damaged throat and lack of voice, but it was enough to call his chocobo from the airship hangar and to his side. The aether currents were strong in Azys Lla, the artificial confluence at the Flagship forcing them to be so, and it was easy to navigate them between the floating islands, over the heads of the monstrosities and broken machines, sailing across the void to his destination.

The Delta Quadrant was an odd place. He had studied the maps of Azys Lla that G’raha had pulled from the terminals as part of his search of the archives, and the place seemed as though it was named in Dragonspeak, but something seemed off. In times past, he would have asked for Midgardsormr’s opinion, but the events with Omega left him able to do little more than pilot his tiny vessel on automatic, his great mind slumbering in the aether to recharge. Tiamat still waited in her self-imposed exile, her songless children - cloned, not born - wandering the isle in desperate sadness.

Ar’telan was here to pay a special visit.

When he and Alisaie had fought their way through the ruins of Dalamud, a mad dash to put a stop to Bahamut’s reconstitution, they had encountered any number of threats. More allagan robots, these ones still functional but with no order but ‘kill’. Biological monstrosities that were gibberingly insane. Tempered creatures - Nael’s face contorted into a wicked snarl, the hot flames of the phoenix. But more than anything, what had hurt were the dragons.

They had gone back for them, after Bahamut had been fully discorporated. One by one they had released the locks on the stasis chambers, and what had tumbled out was ooze and the stench of death. Most of the dragons were alive only by the strictest definition, and perished shortly after being freed. Some of them stabilised, then turned around in madness, Tempered and broken. Some of these they had subdued, horrified at what they had done, and returned them to the stasis chambers, disconnected now from Dalamud and its prayer-siphoning. All but one.

The wyvern that they had taken to calling Twintania was an unusual creature. Leashed by allagan technology, though it had been badly damaged in the fight, she was filled with a burning, single-minded hatred for those who had enslaved her - mortals which looked, to her, like the people who were trying to save her. Cid had jimmied together a repair mechanism after examining Tiamat’s chains, and they had made the heartbreaking decision to leash the wyvern in the Delta Quadrant, in one of the ruined buildings near the Pappus Tree.

Ar’telan walked, feet crunching through the overgrown grass, listening to the babble of water on its wending way through the quadrant. The roiling aether of the sky cast a sickly light over the area as he gave his chocobo strict instructions to wait outside, and ducked into their makeshift prison.

Twintania bellowed in anger as he approached where she was penned, though the bindings let her do little else. She watched him with the single-minded hatred of the Tempered in her eyes as he set down his supplies - a tiny magitek battery charged with aether, a key to unlock her chains - and summoned forth the anchor that Alisaie had conjured for him before he left.

He had never done this on his own before. He had watched it done more than once, by now, but he was still a little nervous. The dragons were different to the races native to Hydaelyn - who could say it would work? Would he do it right? Would it make any difference to Twintania, freed but knowing full well what he and his had done?

Still, he had come this far, so he was not going to turn back now. He channeled aether into the focus, a combination of his own and a little from Alisaie and Alphinaud, stored in the battery. G’raha had offered, but Ar’telan had been wary of taking the aether of someone connected to Allag, even by proxy, so this was all he had. The porxie snorted happily, flapping its ears to indicate that it was fully charged, and the two of them set to work.

The flash of aether was blinding to behold, the bright white of the life-energy he had poured into the casting meeting the angry blue-gold hiss of Bahamut’s Tempering. There was a crackle, a flash, and Ar’telan staggered with the wave of lethargy that washed over him as the spell finally hit home, draining him of his energy in one swift burst. He fell backwards to the floor, hands flying out to steady himself, and blinked back in the bright light show that played across his eyes, flickering afterimages of light.

There was a moment of silence.

“...The screaming doth stop, and I am alone in a Songless current. What brings thee to this place, child of man? What compels thee to save the lost?”

It had worked.

“Because you deserve the chance,” he replied, getting to his feet. He took the tomestone in his his hand and poked at it until it released the restraints - perhaps it was a feint, but he would weather the consequences of being too trusting if that were so. The wyvern watched as they fell to the floor at her feet, unholy amalgamation of magitek and allagan cruelty, and did not move to strike.

“My sire is dead, his Song forever silenced. My siblings lost in a quiet void. I am alone.” Her head swiveled to look at the sickened sky, filtering through the gaps in the ruined masonry. Beyond it, Tiamat sat in her silent vigil, and the wyvern would almost certainly know. “The world has turned as I stayed lost in my madness. Tell me why.” Ar’telan followed her gaze, wondering what he could even say, why he had thought this might even work - why she might have wanted it at all. Was it fair? Was it right?

The choice should have been hers, not one made through Tempered necessity.

“You are not alone,” he said. “Some of your brethren yet live, sealed within the stasis prisons the Allagans locked them in. We have the means to save them now, from the madness the Ascians gifted your brood with, if you wish it.” He shook his head slowly. “I know it is a cruel and empty world that your eyes are opened to, but if you would choose to look away from it, you can do so with eyes unclouded.”

The wyvern was quiet for a long time, settling down into the sitting position that Ar’telan had seen in Vedrfolnir a handful of times before. She was smaller than him, just, but still large enough that Ar’telan thought she had been close in clutch to her Brood’s sire. She was larger than any of the other dragons they had found within Dalamud’s core, for certain.

“Once before did we make a decision drowned in sadness and despair. We shall not do so a second time,” she decided. “Though it hurts, the discordant notes of our primal Sire were no true Song. This I see now. No magic shall ever return him to us, nor those lost to the madness that followed.” She stretched out wings that had gone long unused, muscles tensing and releasing as she tested their mettle. “No longer shall we blindly trust the children of man, but nor shall I turn away from thy kindness. If but a handful of our kin live, we shall persist. In honour of our Sire, we shall carry his Song through the ages. Can thee and thine do this for us, mortal child?” Ar’telan nodded.

“It will take us time - the energy needed to charge the magic that cleanses the effect comes from our own life’s aether, and we are few who can do it. But we shall, if that is what you wish of us.” He took a cautious step towards her, and was not immediately repelled. “Allag’s sins are not ours, but the Empire is broken and lost. If we can make amends for the sins of the dead, in whatever small way we can, then we shall.” Twintania rumbled in agreement, acquiescing to his request by stepping forwards and touching her chin to the top of his head.

“Take me to thy compatriots, and to my brood-mates. I shall see what is left in the silence.”

---

Returning to the airship with a wyvern in tow raised a not-inconsiderable alarm among the Ishgardians who piloted it, but a space on the deck was cleared for her after a small amount of hemming and hawing by the pilots. She flapped her wings irritably as they flew, clearly wishing that she could fly herself rather than rely upon the contraptions of man, but she raised no verbal complaint.

Ar’telan, for his part, activated his Linkpearl and communicated through series of half-formed noises to Alisaie that he needed her help. She was already in Ishgard, waiting in case things went badly, so it was simple enough to arrange to meet her at the airship landing.

---

“It worked!” Alisaie exclaimed as Ar’telan and Twintania dismounted from the airship. “Oh, I’m so glad. Not that I doubted you for a minute, of course.”

“I am told that my kin are under thy protection,” Twintania said, having no time for pleasantries. Alisaie grimaced, but nodded in agreement.

“I suppose you could call it that. It’s not pleasant, though,” she confirmed. “We can take you there, if you’d like, but it will be a long time before we manage to cure them all.” She paused then, sighing softly, and shook her head. “We stopped releasing the locks on the stasis chambers once it became clear we couldn’t do anything for those who were still… alive. I can’t guarantee that even half of them will be saveable.” Twintania inclined her head in acknowledgement.

“I understand. The extent of the corruption hath been revealed to me by thy companion,” she assured Alisaie. “I would stand guard over their resting place. I have lived many of thy lifetimes, and will live many more yet. When the last of my brood-mates is free, whatever form that doth take, then we shall decide what we must do as one.” Alisaie looked to Ar’telan, and he inclined his head in agreement.

“...Well, alright,” she said. “I’ll need to make sure everyone we need is there, and see if we can’t find someone to assign in a more permanent capacity to trying to cure the Tempering. It’s still an inexact science, even in mortals like us. Never mind dragons.” She turned away, one hand on her ear to active her Linkpearl, and began contacting people in earnest. Twintania looked at her surroundings properly, taking in the cold stone of Ishgard and the people walking nervously past the gathering at the airship landing.

“Ishgard has a troubled history with dragons,” Ar’telan said, regret colouring his every movement. Twintania simply inclined her head.

“Thy kind and mine are too different to avoid such troubles, it seems.”

---

Ar’telan went with Twintania on their trek across Eorzea. The majority of the stasis pods that they had found initially had been in the shard of Dalamud embedded in the Broken Wall, in Thanalan, and they had repurposed the area for their desperate attempts to sustain the dying. From Ishgard, the walk took them across the Black Shroud, a journey of several days on its own. Ar’telan deflected the more human of their problems - concerned Wood Wailers, poachers who were not aware of how much they had attempted to bite, and a few Ixal angry at the encroachment on ‘their’ territory. Twintania spent her time idly snapping at the forest creatures which tried to impede their crossing, the elementals thankfully allowing them passage. She had spent many moons in her bindings, and though her reflexes were dulled, she was more than capable of snapping up an errant squirrel or a diremite or two.

The Shroud broke on a part of Thanalan close to their destination, for a mercy. The few scattered Amalj’aa that still made a scouting camp in the area were easily chased off by the sight of a dragon in the flesh, and the phurbles and snurbles - Ar’telan still could not tell the difference - were easy prey for Twintania’s jaws. Ar’telan was glad that the allagan monstrosities that had once joined them on the path had died down to near-invisibility since the primal had been quelled, for the reminder would likely not be a pleasant one.

“These places are cold and cruel,” Twintania said as they approached the door, flapping her wings in disdain for it. Ar’telan nodded in agreement, breaking the seal on the the entryway.

“They are. It was the only place we could safely keep them where they would not be prey for bandits, but I wish there were other options,” he said.

---

They walked down the smooth walkways, allagan lights glowing at their passage. Deep within the engine of the Ragnarok, the engine that had borne Dalamud to space and then served to keep it there, the cluster of the remaining stasis pods sat. Alisaie was already there, assembled with her crew of ‘people who could teleport’, a space remaining for, presumably, Ironworks engineers who had been too busy to arrive immediately.

“Glad you’ve arrived in one piece,” she said by way of greeting. “We’re going over the diagnostics at the moment. The short version is that there’s thirty-some pods which are likely to hold dragons we can save, and too many others which likely… don’t. I’ve taught the cure for Tempering to these two here.” She gestured behind her to a hyur and an elezen that Ar’telan didn’t recognise, who waved sheepishly at the greeting. “We can get one or two out each moon, maybe. But you probably don’t want to push it.” Twintania rumbled in acknowledgement.

“Greetings, children of man,” she said, inclining her head. “Time is of no issue. My vigil shall last as long as it must, and I have much to learn of this world still as I wait.” Alisaie cleared her throat, clearly still a little nervous.

“Right. And we’ve got some people from the Ironworks coming in - they’re the people who can get your brood-mates out of the pods to begin with. They might change a little bit for the first few weeks, but eventually we’d like to have a small, permanent team here until everyone’s out. Is that alright?” Twintania nodded her head again.

“It shall serve. You have my thanks, child. It is good to see that menfolk of the sort that my Sire once aided still walk the earth, despite what the Allagans desired.”

“We will do everything in our power to ensure that none like them ever rise again,” Ar’telan said. “There is never any way to guarantee such things, but we will try.” Twintania made a noise that sounded almost like a laugh.

“Our memory is eternal, child of Light. We shall not forget the betrayal, nor the love. And we shall never let rest the memory of the Ascians and their lies. We shall not be fooled a second time.” Ar’telan smiled.

“I hope so,” he said. “I will come and make sure all is well whenever I can. Good luck.” The ancient wyvern inclined her head, respect in her calm eyes.

“To you as well, child of Light.”

#revs up the crackfic because why the hell not #ffxivwrite2021 #This was actually really fun! #I might put this in Art's canon just because I mean #it's so nice #and I feel bad for riding my Twintania mount around given recent developments #ff14 #Warrior of Light (solo story)