#fields and windmills <3

[cemeterything]

I saw something yesterday i thought you would appreciate. I drove through western Indiana (midwest america) yesterday, which has a large wind farm, windmills as far as the eye can see, and I've come to really love them and have decided they are angels actually in the way power line structures are angels. But yesterday was the first time I've done it after dark, and i learned the windmills all have blinking red lights on them. It was genuinely moving to come round the corner and see a field full of gently winking red lights, like artifical lightning bugs, like hearts beating in synchrony. Indiana doesn't light its highways, all I could see was blinking read lights all around me, into the dark horizon, and it was incredible. I have decides that, instead of each windmill being an angel, the field is an angel, each windmill a beating heart.

<3!!!

#youre right i do appreciate that

[bluegekk0]

what kinda minecraft players would the fam be? :3

I answered similar questions before but I love talking about them and Minecraft so I don't mind answering it again.

Vyrm - he's redstone builder, 100%. He's admittedly not the best at survival, he gets overwhelmed easily and he struggles with the controls. But as soon as he discovered redstone that's what he would dedicate himself to. He'd watch guide videos to get the basics and then experiment, coming up with contraptions you wouldn't even imagine. Traps, secret doors, intricate farms and actual working computers, you name it, he can make it if you give him some time.

Grimm - he's the builder of the family. He has all the skill needed for survival or even hardcore playthroughs, he's very good at the game, but he finds the most enjoyment in building beautiful houses. He dedicates his time to decorate Vyrm's shoddy cobblestone base, turning it into a breathtaking house. Though they usually end up sharing the same Minecraft house (yes, of course they would put their beds next to each other), so FPK just leaves that to Grimm as he plans his next redstone build.

Hornet - pure survival type with a preference for exploring. She's the one who finds mob spawners within 30 minutes of spawning into the world, and she brings back all kinds of loot. She doesn't really do much with it aside from upgrading her gear, her base is just a simple (but pleasant looking) house, though she spends barely any time in it. She's always willing to share what she found, and she'll fill Vyrm's chests with redstone and other materials for his builds. She's a big fan of PVP, and because the others are busy with other things, Zote is the only one who's up for it, so they often attempt to troll one another.

Holly - they enjoy farming and taking care of the animals. They have a little farm next to their small house, and a big wheat field surrounding it. Very often, Grimm will offer to build a windmill as decoration for their farm, and help them with other structures like barns and chicken coops. They do enjoy building, but they're always happy to accept Grimm's help since they see that as bonding. They prefer to farm their crops manually, so as much as they find Vyrm's automatic farms impressive, they stick to their humble farm.

Zote - wannabe griefer, he keeps looking for ways to annoy Hornet, though he gets too confident and his plans often fail because of it. You'll see his name the most often in the chat, since he always dies in the most stupid ways possible, at least until he gets angry and quits. Though as much of an annoyance as he is, he only targets Hornet - he won't intentionally destroy the things Grimm, FPK or Holly built, though he'll sometimes shoot arrows at Grimm as he's building high up in the air, trying to knock him off the scaffolding (only to get instantly bodied by a Power V bow shot from Grimm lmao)

Lewk - I said before that he'd be too young to have an account, but I love the idea of Grimm getting him one just so he can play with the rest of the family. He would try a little bit of everything, though because he's so young, he doesn't fully understand what is happening. For now he seems most drawn to building, he's obviously nowhere near Grimm's level, but his builds are very adorable and Grimm proudly displays them next to his giant mansions.

Asta and Milo - they only watch, the closest they get to joining the game is when walk across Grimm's keyboard while he's playing. They enjoy watching as the others play, even if they have zero idea what's going on.

#ask stuff #feral pk au #modern fpk au #fpk #vyrm #grimm #hornet #holly #zote #lewk #asta #milo

[major-mads]

Thorpe Abbotts Airbase

Places of Interest in Masters of the Air

Masterlist

The Thorpe Abbotts Airbase/Airfield is located just outside of the village of Thorpe Abbots in Norfolk, England. It was specifically built for the 100th Bomb Group when they came to join the war effort. Flyers with the 100th were set to start arriving in June of 1943, so the engineers and builders had to even out the ground, lay miles and miles of concrete, and build the intricate roads and buildings of the base very quickly.

Many locals did not support the building of the base because it encroached on their farmlands. While the British were happy the Americans were joining the fight, there were definite feelings of animosity towards the 'yanks' (as they call Americans), but most of those faded when the Brits met the airmen who occupied the base.

Donald Miller: Masters of the Air, pgs. 1-2

"Thorpe Abbotts, an American bomber base some ninety miles north of London and a short stroll from the Norfolk hamlet that gave it its name. Station # 139, as it was officially designated, with its 3,500 fliers and support personnel, was built on a nobleman's estate lands, and the crews flew to war over furrowed fields worked by Sir Rupert Mann's tenant farmers, who lived nearby in crumbling stone cottages heated by open hearths. Thorpe Abbotts is in East Anglia, a history-haunted region of ancient farms, curving rivers, and low flat marshland. It stretches northward from the spires of Cambridge, to the high-sitting cathedral town of Norwich, and eastward to Great Yarmouth, an industrial port on the black waters of the North Sea. With its drainage ditches, wooden windmills, and sweeping fens, this low-lying slice of England brings to mind nearby Holland, just across the water. It is a haunch of land that sticks out into the sea, pointed, in the war years, like a raised hatchet at the enemy. And its drained fields made good airbases from which to strike deep into the German Reich. A century or so behind London in its pace and personality, it had been transformed by the war into one of the great battlefronts of the world, a war front unlike any other in history (Miller, 2007, pgs. 1-2)."

tag list: @ronald-speirs @footprintsinthesxnd @georgieluz @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @gloryofwinter

message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list! <3

#thorpe abbotts #gale cleven #john egan #masters of the air #gale buck cleven #major buck cleven #major john egan #rosie rosenthal #1940s #8th air force #mota #road to masters of the air #about masters of the air #hbo war #thorpe abbotts air base #100th bombardment group #100th bomb group #bloody hundredth #bloody hundredth bomb group

[national-rail]

Station of the Week #1: Berney Arms (BYA)

Norfolk, England. Served and Managed by Greater Anglia

The landowner refused to sell their land unlesd this station was built. This is the only reason it exists.

Serves a closed pub, a couple houses, a windmill and a nature reserve.

Served by about 3 trains a day currently.

This station is inaccessible by road.

Least used station in Britain in 2019

It's literally just in a field I don't think my photos convey how middle of nowhere it is.

It's great if you want a roughly 5 mile walk along the river Yare to the next station in the village of Reedham

#uk trains #trains #railways #uk railways #berney arms #station of the week

[rosymemoirs]

claude monet's art twitter headers

♡ and reblog if you save / use

header 1 – the water lily pond (1899) by claude monet

header 2 - the poppy field near argenteuil (1873) by claude monet

header 3 - cliff walk at pourville (1882) by claude monet

header 4 - path through the corn at pourville (1882) by claude monet

header 5 - water lilies (1916) by claude monet

header 5 - water lilies (1916) by claude monet

header 6 - the garden of monet at argenteuil (1873) by claude monet

header 7 - tulip fields (1886) by claude monet

header 8 - by the river at vernon (1883) by claude monet

header 9 - the mount riboudet in rouen at spring (1872) by claude monet

header 10 - windmills near zaandam (1871) by claude monet

#twitter layouts #twitter headers #art headers #paintings headers #painting headers #random headers #aesthetic headers #claude monet headers #monet headers #claude monet #monet #art #painting #cottagecore headers

[het-geheim]

new collage/mix out on soundcloud w/ my bf, featuring the following tracks

Michael Pisaro - Hellgrün (Small New World) (2015) 5.4 Emerald Twilight Sjaella - Music For a While (comp. Henry Purcell) Huelgas Ensemble - Deo Gratias (comp. Johannes Ockeghem) Les pieds sur terre - Dessine-moi le bonheur The Monkees - Riu Riu Chiu Syzygys - Harimao Hunters Michel Chion - Le chant des heures Jeff Witscher - 2022 Call Option August For $11.75 VanillaThat Means $3,525 (11.75 * 3 Options [excerpt] Roedelius - Sonntags C'hantal - The Realm Tim Goss - Afterfly VI Donna Lewis - I Love You Always Forever Steve Roden - Forty Hands in Anticipation of a Word Steve Reich - Electric Counterpoint (Fast) E+E - Smile Klein - no more shubz Barbe & Liouba - You Look Ready for Everyday emrys - ah.ah.ah… Melaine Dalibert - windmill Matthew Sullivan - Zen Cab 2 Derek Baron - The Matrix [excerpt] Maxime Le Forestier - San Francisco Sunshine Has Blown - Muji Judith Wright Centre Brisbane 19th December 05 [excerpt] Gutevolk - Silo Liouba - Renault field recordings Liouba - Hugo Talking to Raffat Bill Wells & Maher Shalal Hash Baz - Tipsy Cat Vashti Bunyan - Rose Hip November Graham Lambkin - Aphorisms [excerpt] Graham Lambkin - Horse Play [excerpt] Yao Qingmei - Third verse of the Internationale, sung solo in Monaco (excerpt)

#musique #SoundCloud

[princess-of-purple-prose]

[ID: Scenes from Puella Magi Madoka Magica and PMMM: Rebellion overlaid with lyrics from Genius of “First Love / Late Spring” by Mitski

1. Homura looks cold as she walks ahead of a nervous Madoka on Homura’s first day of school. / “And I was so young when I behaved twenty-five.”

2. Homura and Madoka kneel on the ground in a field of flowers, Madoka hugging Homura. Homura looks to the sky and cries as a dark ripple spreads from her, turning the flowers purple. / “Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child.“

3. The Mitakihara City bus comes to a stop against a abstract, nightmarish backdrop of windmills against a bright red sky. / “And I don’t wanna go home yet.”

4. Homura flips her hair with a determined expression as she walks back to the city. The full moon hangs bright behind her, far too large and close to the earth. / “Let me walk to the top of the big night sky.” End ID]

Mitski + Madohomu: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - full

#puella magi madoka magica #pmmm #madohomu #homura akemi #madoka kaname #I'VE WANTED TO DO THIS SINCE I FINISHED REBELLION #this took me ninety minutes mostly because i didn't realize there was a separate command for turning on transformations #but I DID IT! #i really wanted to do the whole song and i had other panels mapped out but this one verse felt the most manageable #perhaps later :) #described #described by me #eyestrain #Fun Fact! the first one is the only thing in this whole series not from rebellion <3 #my web weavings

[sugoiney-weaver]

I finally finished my first playthrough of BG3 last night, and it's maybe the worst/most depressing playthrough possible. I went into the game mostly blind, and tried not to savescum any major decisions or events. Spoilers below the cut

I accidentally killed the Owlbear mama. Without Speak with Animals, I got the gist that she wanted me to leave and not come back. I found a potion of animal speaking, and she was serious about the not coming back part.

I did not free the owlbear cub from the goblin camp, but it showed up at my camp later. It was only there for a few days before I accidentally made its hurt paw worse and it ran away, never came back

I didn't know Minthara would be a companion until after I killed her

I completely missed Halsin until after I killed all the goblins and saved the tieflings

I misunderstood/misclicked the levers at the windmill and sent Barcus flying

At Waukeen's Rest, I saved the guy upstairs, not realizing there was anyone else to save. I then went and found the Zhentarim hideout and didn't come back for a while. The other person (people?) died. Could I have saved the Duke there? IDK.

I saved Baelen by yeeting a healing potion at him, but he triggered the Bibberbang field so I didn't get the Noblestalk

I didn't realize that the world moves on and events resolve themselves without you, so Nere died behind the cave-in. I was trying that fight over and over, kept dying, so I went and explored the rest of the area and came back after a couple long rests. I had been drinking so I was very confused. I KNOW I didn't kill EVERYONE here, but where the fuck are they?

I explored the Grymforge but didn't actually use it. I thought for sure that I would find something that would explain how to use it, but I didn't. I refused to look up walkthroughs so I missed a lot of content because I didn't immediately understand what I was doing

When I first got to Last Light Inn, I missed Dammon. I failed to rescue Isobel and reloaded when I saw Zombie!Dammon. I then went and talked to Dammon to fix Karlach's heart, tried again to save Isobel, failed, and killed ALL the Tieflings and Harpers

Jaheira died on the front steps of Moonrise Towers. Because she wasn't actually in my party, I couldn't revive her.

I remember seeing some stairs that probably led to where the rest of the Tieflings were being kept, but I forgot to check it out before I moved on. I assume they're still there.

I decided not to give a fuck about Halsin's quest, so he was very sad that I did not lift the Shadow Curse

When I found Mizora at Moonrise Towers, I correctly translated the button that said "Unleash" and assumed it meant "unleash the Illithid." I failed to translate the one that apparently says "annihilate," so I pushed that one. Mizora and Wyll went WOOSH and Karlach was pissed

I didn't know that Isobel was saveable so I killed her.

Gale got kidnapped by Orin in Act 3, before I had a chance to take him to Sorcerous Sundries

Because I didn't need him (I was already a wizard) I took my sweet time rescuing him. I think I accidentally killed him on the altar with a Fireball. He wasn't technically in my party so Spell Sculpting didn't help?

I completely skipped Cazador's Palace for the sake of finishing the game. I hadn't taken Astarion out of camp since act 1 so he was only level 4 the whole time lol.

At the end, I turned Karlach into a Mind Flayer, released Orpheus, fought the Emperor.

I crit failed my attempt to convince Laezel to stay with us

That's pretty much it lol. I also abandoned so many quests that I probably could have gotten an extra 60 hours out of this playthrough. I ended at 129 hours though!

#bg3 #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3

[bestlinktournament]

ROUND 3/5

Here is a playlist containing all the tournament songs

#best zelda song tournament #loz #poll #tournament #zelda #twilight princess #ocarina of time #oot #oracle of seasons

[cuddlemonsterdean]

I was tagged by @shallowseeker , thank you! :3

Rules: Make a new post and post a bit from your WIP

The sky is really blue, with only a few fluffy white clouds at the horizon. In front of where he’d parked his car, the corn stacks are moving softly with the wind, back and forth, back and forth. Like waves in an ocean.

There’s a windmill in the distance. The smell of wildflowers in the air. Dean’s waiting, but it won’t be long now. It won’t be long now—

A bright flash, and then thunder rolls directly above. His heart racing, Dean sits up straight, looks around. Rain is pouring in waves down the windshield, a storm howling outside, the sky low and gray.

On the dashboard, Dean's phone is vibrating angrily with a call.

"Dean?! Where are you, are you okay?"

It’s Sammy. Dean blinks at the windshield. There's so much water pouring down, everything outside looks blurry and unreal.

"Dean!"

Oh, right.

"Um." Dean cranes his head to look out the other windows. "Some field, I guess."

"What?! What field? Dean, what are you doing there?"

Yeah, that's. He was—

"...waiting."

"You—what for?"

Dean groans and blinks against the bright light as another bout of lightning splits the sky. "Stop fucking yelling, my head hurts."

There's a pause. "Are you drunk?"

"No, Sam, what the fuck. This freak storm just hit and I'm waiting for it to let up, jeez."

Instead of calming down, Sam only gets more agitated. "Dean, you said you were just gonna go on a supply run in town. You were supposed to be back over an hour ago. And now you—” He breaks himself off and then takes an audible deep breath. “Did you have an episode again?”

Dean bristles. He peers out the window once more, at the—fuck, he’s got no clue where he’s at. Trying to stay calm, he drags his free hand over his face. It comes away wet. He rubs at his eyes some more, only now notices the ache in his chest. Like there’s something heavy in there, in a way that it hurts.

“Look, Sammy, I’mma just head home now, okay?”

Dean tries for reassuring and instead lands somewhere south of brittle and scared. He bites his tongue hard to make sure no pathetic noises come out. It’s really cold in the car, he’s shivering.

There’s another long pause and when Sam speaks again, he sounds gentle in a way that has Dean's eyes well up with tears.

“Dean, should I come get you?”

It takes humiliatingly long for him to swallow the lump in his throat and answer like a forty year old man instead of a four year old boy.

They hang up and Dean starts Baby and backs her away from the field. He’s going to have to give her a real deep spa treatment at home—the sorry excuse for a road he apparently drove down is muddy as fuck. Bumpy as hell too. He whispers apologies to her the entire time it takes to get back to the highway.

The rain is still pouring but at least with the windshield wipers on, he can see better now. Can see the road signs too. He’s somewhere in bumfuck nowhere outside of Lebanon, which is—which is not where he was supposed to be, apparently.

Dean shivers again, and—right, yeah, genius move, he never turned the heating on. When he does, the legos rattle in the vents like they always do. The noise usually soothes him but with the storm outside, he can barely hear it.

The lightning has eased up, but his head still hurts like the thunder is happening directly inside it. He rubs at his dry eyes and fights the irrational urge to turn the car around.

this is a bit from my post 15x19 canon divergent destiel longfic that I've been working on for like two years now and that I'm a little over halfway done writing.

tagging... hmmm I have no idea who is working on something rn. maybe @geekout-f-t-w @curioussubjects , @carolinasacco , @luxshine ? :3

#kelpie talks #shallowseeker #tag game #thank you for tagging me!

[reneesbooks]

The Knight of Lacuna Lake - Part 4

summary: as winter descends on Morbhard, the past haunts Keelan and her family's secrets haunt Maura (4.7k words)

intro post, part one, part two, part three

taglist (ask to be added! <3): @serenanymph @lyssa-ink @oh-no-another-idea @lena-rambles @ashen-crest @tragicbackstoryenjoyer @serpentarii

{*}

Keelan gets every Camhaoir off, so on the anniversary of the night Leyne burned, he is sitting on the floor in the chapel, lighting candle after candle. He can't remember every name and face, but he lights one for each one he remembers. His parents, Old Haidi, his friend Ollie, the other farmers. The other children. The baker who'd always made extra sweet buns on the night of the full blue moon. The priestess who was prone to long-winded lectures that Keelan could never pay attention to. The barkeep who always shouted nasty things at the playing children if they got too close to his garden.

He's surrounded by candles when the door on the east side of the chapel opens. He looks up at the sound of the creaking old hinges. Maura lifts the hem of her dressing gown, stepping carefully out of her shoes before making her way towards Keelan. He watches her approach from behind his wall of candles. She stops at the edge of his pool of light.

“Princess,” he says quietly. “I apologize. It's my night off, but if you—”

“No,” she interrupts. She shrugs off the dressing gown and Keelan looks away, his eyes burning. She lifts the much shorter hem of her foamy nightgown and steps cautiously over the candles. She settles down next to him and pulls her knees up to her chest. “I couldn't sleep and saw the light. I thought you might enjoy the company.”

Keelan lights another candle. Shira, he miller's daughter. Maura says nothing more, just sits beside him while he continues to light the candles. Too soon, he runs out of names. He sets the matches down and shuts his eyes.

“I've never been a very devout person,” he says, his voice echoing in the empty chapel. “But my parents taught me the funeral prayers. And the memorial ones. I've said them for as many...as many people as I can remember.”

“Do you want me to say them with you?” Maura asks softly. He shakes his head.

“There are too many names.” He opens his eyes. “I wish I remembered more.”

“I'll say the prayers, then.” Her hand slides into his. “And you just say the names.”

He swallows and nods.

Her voice rings in the dark chapel. “May the souls of the remembered find the strength to visit those who remember them tonight. May the souls of the forgotten enjoy the eternal rest of the gods. May Tidon judge them fairly, may Hatha welcome them with warm arms. We ask the gods to allow them to join us tonight, as another year passes since they left.”

Keelan clears his throat. He always starts with his parents, but with Maura's hand in his, the syllables feel even heavier on his tongue. “Saoirse. Padraigh.” Maura's fingers squeeze his. “Haidi. Ollie, Shira, Tommy.”

His mouth is dry and he dreads the years to come, as memory fades and Leyne is no longer real, until it is nothing but a story and a song and a few stones in a field. They'd had a fountain in the town square, a windmill, a chapel with only one stained glass window. He never paid attention during lecture days, so he remembers every detail of that window—the beautiful segments of glass set into intricately wrought iron, depicting the spirit of Leyna, who was said to have created Leyne's vineyards from a strand of her hair. He remembers the shattered glass glistening in the ashes of the chapel, reflecting back the fires as the sacred grove burned.

The tears come easily, and Maura rests her head on his shoulder. He tells her as many stories as he can remember, about Leyne's people, Leyne's history, Leyne's legends. Someday he and his home will be dust but for now he is alive and Leyne is still real.

He runs out of stories long before he runs out of tears. Maura is steady as stone, but her touch is velvet in his hair. She kisses the side of his head and he lets her hold him until he has the strength to stand. The candles are burning low, the time for the spirits waning as the wax drips away. Maura stands with him and he imagines what the chapel could look like if it were really filled with spirits—all the people of Leyne, surrounding him like the candles. Would they look the way they had when they'd died, burned and bloody? Or the way they existed in the world beyond?

It doesn't matter. Leyne is gone.

Maura whispers something and the candles flare up, casting the shadows of dozens of people across the walls and sloped ceilings of the chapel. Keelan takes a step back, a dry sob catching in his throat. The candlelight dies down, a few of the candles flickering out from the strain. The shadows fade.

“I don't know if the priestesses are right about the world beyond,” Maura says quietly. “But I know enough magic to feel its presence. Leyne is not gone; it lives in you.”

Keelan closes his eyes. “And when I am gone?”

She inhales sharply, her fingers curling around his. “I don't know.”

They stand there until the rest of the candles burn out. Keelan steps over the candles and picks up Maura's dressing gown. She joins him and he drapes the gown over her shoulders. She pulls it around herself and he walks her to the chapel doors.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” he says, avoiding her gaze. She stands on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek and he sighs, letting himself relax at the touch. His hands brush her waist as she pulls away and he craves a touch from her that lingers.

“Until tomorrow,” she says, and disappears with the scent of her sweet-pea perfume.

{*}

They are still in the garden when the silver moon peeks over the wall of the castle. Maura and Birdie are laughing, drawing shapes in the thin film of snow that covers the grass. Birdie's laughter ends abruptly and she turns to face the silver moon. Her pupils shrink until her eyes are two more silver moons. She starts to recite her prophecy. Maura drops her stick and Keelan leaps up from his seat under the twisty tree.

He scoops Birdie up, cradling her gently as he and Maura hurry towards the castle. He has a headache from the bright light of Birdie's hair, but he just squints and keeps going. Birdie is starting the second recitation when they make it inside. Keelan sets her down on the nearest cushioned bench and she sits unnaturally still as she continues to chant in her haunting, tripled voice. As the third recitation starts, a drop of blood slides out of Birdie's nose, then another. Maura turns her face into Keelan's shoulder.

The prophecy's end is followed by a thick silence. Then Birdie's little voice breaks it— “Keys?” The word trembles with tears. “My nose.”

“It's okay, duckling,” Maura says. She crouches down next to Birdie and wipes the blood away with her handkerchief. “Sometimes that happens when it's cold out. That's how you know it's time to come inside.”

Birdie sniffs. “I don't like it.”

“Me neither, princess,” Keelan says, offering her his hand. “But it's over now, see?”

She takes his hand and they start off in the direction of her chambers. Maura walks silently beside them, lost in her own thoughts. Birdie swings Keelan's hand, humming to herself. They're nearly to her room when she speaks again. “I like snow,” she says decisively. Keelan laughs.

“Why is that, princess?

“Because it's sparkly.” She jumps down the step into her bedroom. “And it makes Sissy's hair look like Momma's brace-lets. Sparkly.”

Keelan waits outside the door while Maura tucks Birdie in. He can just barely hear them through the door, Birdie's little chime of a voice and Maura's soft replies. The sweet notes of Birdie's favorite lullaby reach him, but he can't make out the words.

Maura steps out of the bedroom and stands in the corridor for a moment, staring at the wall opposite. “That's never happened before,” she says quietly.

“I know,” Keelan says. He steps forward to take her hand. “Are you okay?”

“No.” She lets go of his hand and presses hers to her face. “I need to speak with Levi. Or my mother.”

“Where would they be at this hour? Levi isn't in the library at night and your mother likely already turned in.”

“I don't know.” She starts walking towards her mother's chambers. “I just...there has to be something we can do for Birdie.”

Keelan follows her, keeping pace despite how quickly she's walking. “She's going to be okay.”

“You don't know that.”

“No,” he says, reaching forward to catch her hand. He pulls her to a stop and she looks up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. He cups her face in his hands. “I don't know that. But I know that you will do everything you can to make sure that she is okay. And I know that you always get what you want.” He lets the corner of his mouth quirk up. “Eventually.”

She closes her eyes, a tear slipping out. “I'm so afraid, Keys.”

“I know.” He presses a kiss to her forehead. “It will be okay.”

She takes a moment to compose herself before continuing down the corridor. Keelan stays at her side as she checks her mother's chambers. The ladies' maids tell them, giggling, that the queen hasn't turned in for the night yet. Maura's frown deepens and Keelan watches the maids out of the corner of his eyes as they leave, seeing them whispering behind their hands.

“She's probably with my father,” Maura says, rolling her eyes as they round the next corner. “The maids are so immature.” She bites her lip, the worry seeping back in. “I don't know where Levi's chambers are.”

Keelan tries to think if he's ever been to them, but he can't remember. “I'm sorry, Maura. We'll find them in the morning.”

She nods, but doesn't turn to go towards her chambers—instead, she takes the side passage to the library. Keelan doesn't need to ask why.

When they reach the top of the stairs, Maura summons a ball of golden light, pushing the doors open. Keelan blinks, startled by the sudden flood of light. The chandeliers are still lit and Maura's light fizzles out. He rests his hand on the hilt of his sword, squinting at the interior of the library. Nobody is ever up here this late except Maura, and the coincidence is not lost on him.

Maura takes a step forward before he can stop her, but her eyes are fixed on something that he hasn't seen yet. Her voice trembles and breaks— “Momma?”

Keelan blinks again, his eyes finally adjusting to the light. Maura is staring at Rosaleen, who is pushed up against one of the bookshelves, her dressing gown falling off one of her shoulders. Her red hair is falling out of her braid as she gasps at the sight of the two of them in the doorway, pushing Levi away from her. Keelan's eyes are the size of saucers and all he can pay attention to for a second is the way Levi's shirt is unbuttoned nearly to his hips.

“Maura, sweet pea,” Rosaleen says, pulling up her dressing gown. Her eyes dart between Maura and Keelan. “Oh, darling, this is...we need to talk.”

Levi steps forward, his fingers sparking with blue magic. “Rosaleen, they don't need to know about this—”

“No,” Rosaleen says, catching his wrist. “No more memory spells, no more hiding.”

A tear slides out of Maura's eye. “Memory spells?”

“Listen, Maura,” Rosaleen says, walking towards them with hands out placatingly. “Let me explain.”

Maura steps back, running into Keelan. He wraps an arm around her protectively, feeling her tremble, and draws his sword with his other hand. He aims it at Levi. “Stay away from the princess.”

“There's a lot going on here that you don't understand, Keelan,” Levi warns, blue sparks still flying off his fingers. “Don't be foolish.”

Keelan glances back. The doors are still open. He could get Maura out quickly, if it came to that.

“Levi, that's enough,” Rosaleen snaps. The blue sparks fade from Levi's fingers and he crosses his arms over his chest. Rosaleen inhales slowly, pulling her fiery braid over one shoulder and her dressing gown tight around her waist. “This is not how I wanted it to happen, but I should have told you this a long time ago, sweet pea.”

Maura clutches Keelan's arm around her. “Told me what, Momma?”

“I love you,” Rosaleen says, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “But I don't love your father. You know...you know our marriage was arranged after your grandparents died. We never planned it to be a love match.”

Keelan keeps his eye on Levi, not trusting the way the witch's fingers are hidden from sight. His mind is spinning, piecing together information faster than he can process it, but the warmth of Maura in his arms keeps him grounded.

“Levi and I...we fell in love.” Rosaleen hesitates when she reaches the tip of Keelan's sword, but he lowers it and lets her come closer. “Darling, you must know that I never wanted to hurt you by keeping this from you.”

Maura's fingers dig into Keelan's arm. “Birdie's nose started to bleed.”

Rosaleen presses her hand to her mouth and Levi lets out a short cry. Keelan's knuckles whiten around the hilt of his sword, his attention caught on the familiar upward turn of Levi's eyes. The slightest upward tilt that he's seen a hundred times, but in a different face.

“Birdie's nose started to bleed,” Maura says, her voice trembling with something that is inching closer and closer to anger. “She was having one of her prophecy trances and this time it gave her a nosebleed and where the hell were you?”

“Maura—”

“How much blood?” Levi demands, his eyes wide and panicked. “Just a little, or a lot?”

Keelan's blood boils, his spinning thoughts settling into a sickening conclusion. “That doesn't sound like the curiosity of a librarian. Could your concern stem from something more personal?”

Rosaleen flinches. Maura turns her face into Keelan's arm. He feels the tears wetting his shirt and regrets his words, if only because they upset her. Levi's eyes dart between Keelan and the queen, as if he is trying to weigh something.

“How could you keep something like this from me?” Maura whispers against Keelan's arm. It echoes through the library anyway, and he sees with some satisfaction that fear is creeping into Levi's expression. “She's not my true sister, is she? She's his daughter.”

“Maura,” Rosaleen says, reaching out to touch Maura's face. Maura jerks away and Keelan pulls the two of them back another step, until they are almost out of the library again. “Maura, baby, she is still your sister. You are my daughters.”

Maura shakes her head. “You're both liars. You're all liars.” She tucks her face against Keelan's chest. “Take me home, Keys.”

“Yes, princess,” he says. He sheathes his sword and swings her up into his arms, carrying her back down the stairs and far away from the library.

{*}

Maura's bedroom door flies open at eight exactly and she steps out looking as if she slept on a cloud, attended by faeries, and not like she'd fallen asleep with her head in Keelan's lap after crying herself dry. He wonders if there is magic involved but resolves not to ask.

“Good morning, princess,” he says, bowing. “What would you like to do today?”

“I don't think I want to study today,” she says, the scratch in her voice the only remnant of the wracking sobs that had shaken her the night before. “I think I wish to take a trip into the city today. The market in Ivy Reach does have the most beautiful books.”

“I will inform the stables and have them prepare your horse.” Keelan follows her as she sets off towards the kitchens. “I heard Stiofán made eggs in a basket for breakfast today.”

“You haven't eaten yet?”

“I wanted to make sure you ate first.”

She slips her hand into his. “Thank you.”

Stiofán doesn't question either of them, just gives them breakfast and packs a satchel with wrapped sandwiches for lunch. Keelan straps the satchel to his horse, gives Maura a boost onto hers, and swings himself up.

“Shall we go to the Grand Market, princess?” The usual guard detail is trailing behind them, but Keelan finds it easy to ignore them when Maura's riding skirts hike up to her knees as she adjusts her saddle. “I don't know about books, but there is a wine merchant with some of the finest vintages in Raedora. I could recommend a few for you.”

Her smile is small, but the victory is sweet. “We'll go there first, then.”

The Grand Market is bustling despite the early hour. Keelan leads the way to the wine merchant's stall and dismounts, helping Maura off her own horse. He is loathe to let any of the other soldiers put their hands on her. Her hand lingers on his arm.

“Your Highness,” the merchant says, bowing deeply. “You do me a great honor.”

Maura smiles politely. “I have heard excellent things about your offerings. I would like to sample a few.”

The merchant keeps bowing. “Any vintage you would like.”

Maura loops her arm through Keelan's and leads him to the table, resting her fingers on the stained tablecloth. “Sir Keelan. You are the expert here.”

Keelan considers the bottles laid out on the table. “This one, here. Good red grapes from the west. The climate there gives them a distinct sweetness that you don't get from other wines.”

“Three casks of that one,” Maura says to the merchant. He immediately scrambles to start writing out a receipt. She turns back to Keelan, her smile beginning to reach her eyes. “Tell me more.”

He manages to tear his eyes away from that smile and looks back at the bottles. “Do you prefer red wines or white, princess?”

She hums. “I don't know. I haven't had enough to have a preference.” She lets out a short laugh. “I'll have to try quite a few to find out which I like best.”

The merchant's eyes are hungry but he wisely keeps his mouth shut and motions for his assistant to begin helping. Keelan surveys the selection of red wines. “If you like dry wine, this might work.” He picks up a bottle with a sketched label that he recognizes. “It's from the east of Raedora, near the Guildin border. Much drier climate with a taste to match.”

Maura laughs again and he can feel the tension beginning to drain from her muscles as she shifts her grip on his arm. “How can a liquid be dry?”

“A taste, princess,” the merchant says, plucking the bottle out of Keelan's hands. The assistant holds out a glass and the merchant pours, offering it to Maura. “Free of charge.”

Maura takes the glass with a polite nod and sips. She makes a face. “It's sour.”

Keelan laughs, hearing his father's voice in the back of his head. “Always dry, never sour.” She raises an eyebrow at him. “It's something my father used to say. 'Sour sounds bad—it's what happens to old milk and old ladies. Dry is a contradiction, so it makes the customer curious. A curious customer is a paying customer.'” He shrugs. “I didn't get it; I never liked dry wines either.”

Maura hands the glass back to the merchant. “Not that one.”

“Of course, princess.” He bows and throws the glass to the ground. Keelan nearly laughs at the shatter but instead gestures at another bottle.

“You'll want something more like this, then. Also from the east, so not as naturally sweet as western wines, but the winemaker's specialty is how he brews his wine before ageing it. He visited Leyne once when I was a child to barter for grapevine clippings with my father.”

“Five casks,” Maura says to the merchant. “What about these?” She gestures to a group of three bottles set slightly behind the red wines.

“Those are pink wines, princess.”

“I do love the color pink,” she says, delighted. Are they made from mixing red and white wines together?”

Keelan laughs. “No, princess, only from pink grapes. They’re not common in Raedora as pink grapes grow in much hotter climates. Only a few vineyards in Raedora are able to produce quality pink wines. I myself have never had much so I can’t speak to those three.”

“A cask of each, then,” Maura says. “And we’ll come to a decision later.” She turns to the white wines. “There are still so many to consider.”

“Many of these are dry, princess,” Keelan says. “That will narrow it down significantly.” He inspects the labels and picks up one bottle. “This one should be to your liking. From the southwestern coast. The grapes that grow on the cliffs are some of the sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”

“Five casks.” The assistant is puffing from exertion, hauling cask after cask onto the cart that the soldiers have managed to procure. Maura runs her fingers over the label on the bottle. “There’s no writing. How can you tell the difference so preciscely?”

“All Raedoran winemakers have their own sigil. The grapes on the sailing ship, the wheat, the unicorn. Most vineyards perfect one kind of grape and make one kind of wine, or only one of each kind. There’s no need for writing and most of us can’t read anyway.” Keelan’s fingers freeze over a label that is etched into his mind and the leather satchel that he brought with him from Leyne.

“Keelan?” Maura's voice breaks through the rush in his ears. “What's that one?”

The spirit of Leyna mocks him, smiling up at him from the bottle. The basket of grapes resting on her hip, the long flowing hair that becomes grapevines where it hits the ground. A near-perfect recreation of the stained glass window that had once graced Leyne's chapel.

“This one,” he says, his voice hoarse. He raises his gaze to the wine merchant, who goes deathly pale at whatever he sees on Keelan's face. “Where did you get this?”

“A rare vintage,” the man stammers. “I bought a large quantity a while back that did not all sell.”

Maura's hand tightens on Keelan's arm. “Keys? What is it?”

“This is a strong, sweet wine from the west,” he says, rubbing off a stain of dirt on the bottle. “Made with the finest white grapes grown in Raedora, blessed by the gods themselves.”

He holds the bottle out to her and watches her trace Leyna's face. “Sweet, light, with the faintest kiss of wild cherry.” He swallows, feeling the tears building up behind his eyes. “This is from Leyne. This is my father's wine.”

Maura says nothing for a minute. The wine merchant is frozen, his eyes ticking back and forth between the two of them. Finally, Maura looks up at the merchant. “How many casks of this wine do you have?”

“Fifteen, princess.”

“Are you sure?” There is an edge to her voice.

His face drains of all remaining color. “I will check, princess.” He disappears behind the stall for a moment and Keelan can hear him swearing at his assistant, a few casks crashing to the ground. He returns after a moment. “My deepest apologies; I have seventeen, princess. Two are very old, but the wine should—”

“I'll take all of them,” Maura interrupts. The merchant bows and starts in on another long-winded speech about the honor she does him, but she waves her hand and says, “Any bottle that you have, as well. That will be all. Thank you.”

She gives the bottle in her hand to the nearest soldier and spends a moment discussing transportation with the soldiers by the cart. She turns back to Keelan after a moment and he inhales slowly, composing himself. “What now, princess?”

“We have wine to entertain ourselves with, so next we need books.” She walks back over to her horse and he boosts her into the saddle. “I've been to every book merchant in the Grand Market, but I hear the Ivy Reach market has the best illuminated manuscripts in all of Morbhard.”

“Then we shall go there next.” Keelan swings himself up onto his horse. “Do you want to wait for the rest of the guard detail to finish here?”

“No,” Maura says. “I trust that you will be able to protect me yourself.”

She sets the pace, riding through the Morbhard streets with him at her side. The common folk shout blessings and a few even throw roses, but Maura's eyes are fixed on the horizon, her mind clearly elsewhere. Ivy Reach houses many of the nobility of the city, so the streets grow cleaner and less crowded the further north they go. Soon, the only people out and about are ladies attended by maids and footmen, a few nobles on horses, and servants rushing to run errands and finish chores. The local market is much smaller the Grand Market, but many of the stalls are nicer, with embroidered tablecloths and freshly-painted signs.

Maura stops in front of a booth whose sign shows a dragon holding a book. Keelan jumps off his horse and lifts her down. She lingers close to him this time, slipping her arm through his. “Do you want anything?”

“I'm hardly the expert on books that you are, princess,” he says. “But I enjoyed the stories of Raedora's history.”

“Let's see if we can find you something, then,” she says. The merchant is already bowing and scraping, but their voice fades into the background. Maura runs her fingers over the spine of the first book on the table. Keelan squints at the lettering, trying to decipher it.

“Thee...thee his-history of Gilduh.”

“The History of Guildi,” Maura says. “My father's country.”

“I never knew much about Guildi growing up,” Keelan says. “Fierodia was closer, so we had people come through from there all the time,”

“This one,” Maura says to the merchant. She picks up another book. “Songs and Stories of the Northern Coast. Have you ever been?”

“No,” Keelan says. “But I've had some of their wine.”

She hums and sets the book down. Keelan loses track of time easily, listening to her describe each book in turn. She flips through the pages, tracing illustrations with her fingertips and daring him to try to pronounce random words. His saddlebags fill quickly and the soldiers must still be wrestling with the wine because none come to help. The two of them are left in a peaceful bubble as the sun rises over the lake and the morning chill dissipates. He can hear the bells tolling noon when Maura finally grabs her horse's reins. “Sir Keelan. Shall we return to the castle?”

“If it pleases you, princess.”

Her eyes stray to the towers visible over the grand houses of Ivy Reach. “I don't...I don't think I want to go inside just yet.”

“There are always the gardens,” he offers.

“No,” she says quickly. “No.” She strokes her horse when it fusses. “Birdie's governess usually takes her out into the gardens in the afternoons.”

Keelan steps closer to her, close enough to brush his hand along her waist. “We could always ride out of the city. Spend time in the countryside.”

She hums thoughtfully, still stroking her horse. “There is an abandoned farmhouse just outside the city limits. It could be worth exploring.”

“Princess!” A soldier comes running up to them, his armor clanking loudly. Keelan quickly steps away from Maura. “Your father requests that you return to the castle.”

Maura sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. “Thank you. Inform him that I am on my way.”

“Yes, princess.” The soldier disappears back into the crowd and Maura turns around to face Keelan. He fixes his sight over her shoulder, the bookseller's gaze suddenly feeling scorching hot on the back of his neck.

“Is there anything else that you need, Your Highness?” Keelan asks. He sees her hand twitch towards his before she turns back to her horse.

“A boost up, Sir Keelan. We shouldn't make my father wait.”

#*sticks my head out of the sand* have an update #lacuna #rb original #original fiction #writeblr #writeblr community #keelan #maura #indie author #fantasy novel

[afairmaiden]

The Others (Part 1)

This is part 1 of my entry for the 2022 Inklings Challenge (@inklings-challenge). I don’t know if it’s going to be finished by the deadline, but I wanted to get something up at least.

“And this is the condemnation, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For everyone practicing evil hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be exposed. But he who does the truth comes to the light, that his deeds may be clearly seen, that they have been done in God.” John 3:19-21

I remember thinking the woods were beautiful.

I remember everything, even the things I was supposed to forget.

In fifth grade we took a field trip to the preserve just north of the city. There were twenty-six of us, plus the teacher and teacher’s aide, and for once they let us choose who we would be paired up with for the day. I waited quietly, watching the others make their choices, until the only other person left was a girl named Jess. I was secretly glad, because I’d always thought she was cool, even if no one else did. Her hair was too long and her clothes were strange-looking, and it was no secret that she and her brother didn’t get enough to eat because her parents could barely support one kid, let alone two. Still, she was always nice, and I was excited to have a chance to hang out with her.

It was a warm day at the very end of April. No one was saying much on the bus. We just watched as the scene outside changed from close gray skyscrapers and pavement to fields of windmills and sparkling solar panels under the open blue sky. Finally, we came to the entrance of the preserve, where a uniformed guard waved down at us from his post high up in the watchtower and opened the gate for us.

We parked by an open grassy area bordered by flowers and trees. There was a large welcome sign and a stand with a physical guestbook where we spent a good ten minutes struggling to write our names with the old-fashioned ballpoint pen that was attached to it. The teacher was annoyed, but I noticed her name didn’t look much neater than ours. I remember it was bright, almost too bright, and far too open and exposed for my liking. It was quiet as well, which seemed strange after the constant humming, buzzing, rattling, whirring sounds of the city, not a sound to be heard except the occasional breeze rustling the leaves. A couple kids nervously asked if there were any animals, but the park ranger who was leading the tour assured us there was nothing to worry about; the animals were in another part of the preserve, and there were cameras everywhere. It was perfectly safe to go exploring.

After a brief tour, we were allowed to wander around on our own, so Jess and I split from the group and went down a trail where some flowers were growing. We read the signs – there were roses and lilies, violets, baby’s breath, white chrysanthemums, pink carnations, monkshood, rhododendrons, tuberose, sunflowers, and snapdragons. We went further down the path, where the bushes grew taller, talking a little as we went, but mostly admiring the scenery. The path went up and up, then turned a little until we suddenly came to a tall chain-link fence. We could see beyond it that everything was wilder, and here we heard other sounds. I thought I heard running water below, and Jess gasped and pointed at something that might have been a bird.

We stood there for a few minutes just looking when I thought I heard something else that I couldn’t quite name. It slowly grew louder, and with it, the light seemed to grow brighter until it was nearly blinding and I had to shut my eyes. I don’t know how much time passed before the noise stopped and I heard my name being called. I looked up to find the teacher’s aide, Marcy, coming toward me. For a second I froze, because she was usually in a bad mood, but she seemed unusually cheerful and started talking as though we were good friends.

“Found you! Well that was fun, wasn’t it? I love it out here, don’t you? But it’s time to be heading back now.”

I looked around to see where Jess had gone but couldn’t see her anywhere. I began to panic and opened my mouth, but found myself unable to speak as Marcy drew nearer, looking entirely oblivious to what had just occurred.

“Come on,” she continued brightly, taking my hand. “Remember what the ranger said? This is public land that’s open to everyone, so you can come back anytime you want.”

I finally found my voice, but all I could say was, “But…Jess—where—”

“What’s that?” Marcy asked. She looked confused. Just then there was the sound of a horn honking. “You’ll have to tell me on the bus. We don’t want to be late.”

We arrived at the bus just as everyone else was getting on. I continued to look around, but Jess remained nowhere to be seen, a fact that seemed entirely lost on both the teacher and the park ranger as they called roll from the guestbook and told the driver that everyone was accounted for. Marcy sat next to me on the bus and made small talk the whole ride back.

When I got home, I used my mother’s computer to try to look up Jess’s family in the building directory, to see if she had gotten home another way, but they weren’t there. Their names, numbers, everything was gone. It was like they’d never even existed.

***

I knew when the lights started flickering that it was only a matter of time. It was hardly a surprise; the factory had been short on people since long before I started working three years ago, we’d been losing people every year, and there was no one to replace them. Over eight hundred apartments in the building, and now less than fifty were occupied, all the other businesses were long gone, services had been cut to the absolute essentials, the elevators were down every other week, and the food seemed even more tasteless than usual. I tried to tell myself it would be alright, that buildings closed all the time, and we’d just be reassigned to an identical one a few streets over, where we’d probably be doing the exact same jobs even. All the same, when the notice finally came from management, my heart started racing and I started having trouble breathing normally.

For half a minute, I actually considered making an appointment with the building therapist. Even if it was an obvious trap, I almost thought it would be worth the risk of being red-flagged for instability if I could actually talk to someone. Fortunately, the moment of insanity passed, and after we were dismissed, I made my way down to the wellness lounge instead, to release the negative emotions in a safe, positive way.

Gina, our resident Lightbringer, was already there, looking perfectly serene and shining as brightly as ever. She greeted me with a warm smile and a slight bow, which I returned, relieved that even if she guessed my true feelings, she wouldn’t mention it. Acknowledging the darkness might dim her own light, and she couldn’t risk that, especially when she appeared to be preparing for a display.

“So, a change is coming,” she said in her usual dreamy tone, closing her eyes and sighing deeply. “What a wonderful opportunity for growth.”

My smile felt somewhat strained as I nodded mutely.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, suddenly fixing her eyes on me intently. “How would you like a change of pace? You’ve certainly distinguished yourself as a model employee during your time here, but I’m afraid that even in a larger factory, your opportunities for advancement will be quite limited. You’re very bright, you know—” She smiled as I stared back in shock. “Far too bright for a place like this. You may not see it, but I do. You have a gift, and I’d hate to see you sell yourself short. Now, the ranger service is looking for qualified applicants, and I think it would be just the job for you.”

I wasn’t about to argue, but I hardly know what to say. I’d ended up here precisely because I’d never been particularly gifted at anything. Decent, yes, solidly average, sure, but gifted? She seemed to sense my hesitation because she smiled encouragingly and put a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m going to put in a recommendation for you, and I expect to hear something soon.”

***

A week later, I boarded the subway with everything I owned packed in one backpack and one standard issue rolling suitcase. I had assumed I would be moving close to the preserve, so I was surprised when I put in my number and discovered that the training center was at the heart of the Inner Circle. Apparently this was news to my fellow passengers as well, as a number of excited whispers suddenly broke out. Though everything outside the windows was flying by in a blur, we knew we were getting close as the light seemed to change, and when we came to our stop fifteen minutes later, we found the station looking bright and clean, the people professional and put-together, and the technology state-of-the-art as interactive holographic displays offered travelers assistance at every turn.

We were met by a man in a tan uniform who scanned our cards and ushered us into an elevator marked ICTC – Authorized Personnel Only, which brought us to a spacious meeting room on the twentieth floor, which looked much like the wellness lounge in my old building, except the walls and furniture were a rich dark red rather than plain white, and instead of harsh white LEDs overhead, the room was faintly illuminated by a soft blue glow coming from the edges of the carpet. In the center of the room, a table of food had been laid out, and a pleasant-looking woman invited us to help ourselves and have a seat while a number of other uniformed individuals took our belongings to our rooms. There were about twenty of us in total, and we all sat a little awkwardly as we waited for the orientation to begin.

It began slowly. After we finished eating, the next hour was spent signing the usual liability paperwork before receiving a series of inoculations we would need to work around actual wildlife – rabies, Lyme disease, a number of diseases I assumed had been eradicated centuries ago and others I had never heard of. Then while we were all feeling a bit sore and slightly sick, the woman who had greeted us took her place at a podium in front of the room and began began to speak.

“I hope you all understand what a great honor it is to be chosen for this program,” she said. “We’re doing very important work here, work that keeps not just the preserve, but the whole city safe.”

She began her presentation on local wildlife, making use of a holographic projector like the ones we had seen below.

“This is a chipmunk. This is a squirrel.  This is the sound of a mountain lion screaming.”

This continued for a couple hours before it was time for lunch. More food was brought in, and after a while, we began to relax and even started talking a bit. When it was time to start again, the lights dimmed, and the instructor once more took her place at the podium, this time making use of a large screen on the wall. Her expression, which had seemed pleasant at first, now appeared somewhat forced as she smiled down at us.

“You should know,” she said quietly, “that we’re not alone here.”

She waited a moment for the sentence to sink in before pressing a button, and a map of the city, outlined in blue, appeared on the screen.

“Here, you see, is the city. This—”

She hit the button a second time, and the map zoomed out slightly, revealing a larger area outlined in yellow.

“This is the border of the old city. And this—”

She hit the button once more, and the map zoomed out until the city was a fraction of its size, a spot of gray in a sea of green. She pointed to an area about a hundred miles southeast.

“This is where we believe they’re located.”

“There are people out there?”

The question came from a girl near the back, who immediately turned red and clapped her hands over her mouth. Everyone stared at her, then looked to the instructor awaiting her response. Finally, she spoke.

“No,” she said slowly. “We don’t think they’re people.”

The rest of the meeting was kind of a blur. The instructor explained that they were known simply as the Others. We had first made contact with them about two hundred years prior, and considered them not exactly friends, but allies. They had helped us develop certain technologies that had allowed our city to survive the Long Winter. Even so, they had never sought to interfere with our governance, but seemed content to keep an eye on things from a distance. But lately, she said, there had been some...concerning developments.

“Wildlife behaving strangely. Unusual weather patterns. You may have noticed that the wireless network has been a bit unreliable at times. And the issues with the electric grid haven’t been limited to older buildings.”

As if on cue, the lights flickered once...then twice.

She continued, “Meanwhile, they’ve been increasingly unresponsive to our communications.”

She turned back to the map.

“We call it the Dead Zone. All technology fails there. Signals get scrambled. Video feeds freeze up. Satellites can’t get a clear picture. Large crafts are too conspicuous. Small crafts get knocked down or blown off course by strong winds. Even our...alternative methods have proved ineffective. We don’t know why, but we don’t think it’s a coincidence. If we want answers, we’re going to have to go down there ourselves. Or I should say, you are going to go.”

She paused again before continuing, “It may be dangerous. In the early days, we agreed to certain boundaries, and there’s a possibility that crossing into their territory will be considered an act of war. That is why it is absolutely imperative that we all demonstrate our unwavering commitment to walking in light.”

Her smile never faltered, but I imagined there was a flash of warning in her eyes.

“Now, you are here because we have faith in you. And in order to prepare you further, we have invited Lightbringer Gina Avery to assist in your training, beginning with a special display after dinner.”

***

The display that evening was even more spectacular than usual. As always, we filed into the room in silence and took our places on the floor, careful not to bump into each other as the door shut, leaving us in utter darkness. We remained in silent meditation for a few minutes before we heard the sound of low, distant rumbling start, and began to see the faintest glow of red rising from the floor, revealing the dark silhouette of the city skyline with clouds flying low overhead. Then came the sound of a bell, and Gina began to speak.

“We have gathered together this evening to remember. To look into the shadows of the past, the dark times of blindness and ignorance and despair, and to recognize how far we have come.”

The rumbling grew louder, and the moment she finished speaking, there came a sharp crack, and for the briefest moment, the room was illuminated by a flash of red as if lighting had struck in our midst. Several people screamed. I remembered watching displays with my mother as a small child and how I would instinctively reach out for her at these times, and how on those rare occasions she would pull me in and hold me close, stroking my hair until it was over.

Gina continued, “We remember the times of inequality and suffering, when greed and selfish ambition dominated, when prejudice and superstition made people afraid.”

As she spoke, the lightning continued, illuminating larger silhouettes like monsters rising above the city, bent on destroying it. Greed was a tall, thin man with glowing green eyes counting out bills. Ambition was an ancient barbarian with a sword, cutting down everyone around him until he was the last one standing. Superstition was a group of people bowing before strange symbols, then turning to attack one another. These images lasted only moments before the lightning ceased, leaving the city illuminated by dancing waves of red and orange, like fire.

“But now...” The flames froze. “We know better.” They faded. “We suffered great losses...” Utter darkness once more. “But we have survived and advanced as a civilization.” A hint of white on the horizon. “We have learned to live in harmony...” The city suddenly illuminated by millions of points of yellow light from every window. “To embrace diversity, equity, and inclusion in all realms of society...” The sky turned a brilliant pink. “To care for the earth and all its creatures above our own convenience...” Purple. “To sacrifice our own desires for the good of others...” Blue. “As we meditate on these things, we shine with the light of the universe...” The ceiling above now filled with millions and billions of stars and swirling galaxies. “We give no place to the darkness. We banish from our minds all fear, all anger, all selfishness, all lies of the past that would drag us back into the shadows of disharmony. We will not allow our lights to be dimmed.”

[part 2]

#inklingschallenge #team chesterton #genre: intrusive fantasy #imagery: light #story: incomplete

[hughungrybear]

Me watching Dangerous Romance Ep 12 (FINALE):

We're tying loose ends! I'm really excited to see my GuyNava ship sailing even if it is just one episode 😭😭😭😭 Also, Name and Saifah would probably switch places as Saifah's name will be cleared and Name will have to go to jail for (the much-deserved) shooting of Big Boss.

1. No connection to the plot whatsoever but I just realised, we never did get a ViewJune moment 😭😭😭 I thought this series would at least give us a glimpse of what is to come considering they are being paired in upcoming (much-awaited!) GMMTV GL series, 23.5. 😔😔😔

2. Kang, that gag was already sold by Pat (and bought by Pran) when the BBS production crew decided to have Pat shot and hospitalised ON CHRISTMAS EVE. Yes, I still have not forgotten nor forgiven 😂.

3. Oooh. Guy is walking without crutches! My dude, looks like your 'shooting star' is highly effective in making wishes come true. 🤭🤭🤭

4. Name, you stupid dumbass. Saifah should have just betrayed you from the get-go. I am still not above skinning you alive. 🤬

5. Ngl, I teared up with that conversation between Kang and his Dad. Also, that embrace between brothers, Sailom and Saifah 🥹🥹🥹 And then all was lost when I saw that big-assed tarpaulin welcoming Sailom back that Kang posted on the school grounds 😂😂😂😂

6. Saifah and Name. I wonder if they will ever be able to get their dream of travelling together (preferably to the US) and live the "fast and furious" life. 😔 Also 'best buds'??? BEST BUDS??? ARE WE QUEER-BAITING NOW, PAPANG?

7. Oh, look at Guy. He is playing again 😊 Nava must be proud. Also, considering they used to goad Guy into fighting them, the way Max was ready to throw hands at the player who tripped Guy in the field is just 🤌. The gangs have fully merged.

8. Dad, what are you doing outside? Why are you not sitting with the audience? 😅

9. The fvck is that? I don't remember reviewing that much material to get into uni 😂😂😂 The bulk of those review materials looked like they are studying for licensure exams or something (in my home country, majority of STEM graduates need to take an appropriate licensure exam. Otherwise, you will never be qualified to do the work that you have spent 4 to 5 years studying for. Even with internships - no licence, not qualified).

10. Max and Auto, you know there is such a thing as FaceTime, right? 😂😂😂

11. Pimfah, my spirit animal and fellow GuyNava shipper 😂😂😂

12. Really? All we get are just bits and pieces of ViewJune? We have no choice but to take it, right? I'll just imagine the lesbians will be thriving in the UK 😭😭😭😭

13. I want a MarcPawin series with a lovely, no-mess storyline (looking at you, My Gear and Your Gown. It didn't help that GMMTV also did them dirty with the time slot and the promotion of MGYG). I NEED GMMTV TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT 😭😭😭😭

14. Oh, look at that. Sailom is officially part of the family 😊

15. Okay, but why is Kang making the speech? I thought speeches are reserved for those who graduated with highest honours. 🤔🤔🤔 <after 5 seconds> Ah, of course. Sponsor's son. At least, he's more than aware and accepting now 😅

16. Really? You need to do a PSA of your dating life, Kang? WTH. 😂😂😂😂 and yes, we need the sudden (and completely unnecessary) rain to showcase the windmill umbrella. Gotta promote the merch, eh? 😅

17. Ooof. From Teacher Nubdao to P'Nubdao. We're getting close, Pimfah 😅😅😅

18. Max, you are rich enough to buy a selfie or vlogger stick. So why the ever loving fvck are you using your hand/arm to hold that phone? More importantly, why are you not equipped with the right camera for vlogging? 😅😅😅😅

19. What kind of p*rn play is this end credit scene??? 😂😂😂

Overall, I think this is an okay series. Of course, I might have been a bit misled by the trailer thinking that Sailom's family's debt forced him to sell himself (to prostitution) and Kang is gangster/mafia who comes to save him 😅, which could have perfectly explain the series title. Instead, we got minimal hints of danger all throughout the series. 😅😅 Still, I must thank this series for bringing MarcPawin back 😭😭😭 Now, to get GMMTV to have them cast as main for another BL series...😅😅😅

#dangerous romance the series #dangerous romance #dangerous romance final ep #dangerous romance ep 12 #kanghansailom #kang x sailom #perthchimon #perth tanapon #chimon wachirawit #marcpawin #marc pahun #win pawin

[valeriianz]

12!

12: Ideas of a perfect date

(besides going anywhere with you?)

i love adventure! dates that take me by surprise. i once had a guy take me past the city limits (not to murder me) but to show me windmills. they are MASSIVE and the open fields around them are so windy, its crazy.

i took someone on a picnic date where we had to do a lot of walking through a park, leading into a more secluded trail in the woods, where we ate home made sandwiches that i made (hers was smoked salmon with cream chz, avocado, and capers. mine was roast beef and spicy mustard with provolone and pickles).

ive also been go karting haha. dinner dates are fine, but im awful at talking about myself so i always prefer a date that challenge the norm and we get to know each other in different ways <3

get in my business

#lmao sorry all the love and affection coming off your blog is affecting me! #like pollen from a plant pfft #thank you! #landwriter #ask game

[khfankeri]

Excerpt from Chapter 9 of A Bond Greater Than Family (A Plague Tale)

Credit to @pinkprincess717-blog1 for the pic! <3

From Chapter 9 - Short Interlude

They lay there for several minutes as Amicia started breathing normally again. She looked at Lucas who held her, and it hit her then that she had never asked Lucas about his dream in the nebula. She had been too caught up in her own grief to even think about it.

"Lucas... what happened while you were in the nebula cloud?"

He stopped stroking her back and looked away. Oh, so it was bad... but she felt she had to press. She had to know. "Please tell me."

Turning back to her, she couldn't read his eyes. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

She gulped and nodded.

He sighed. "Very well."

***************************

Lucas woke up in the the dense cloud of the nebula aching all over. "That was quite a fall..."

He looked around. "Amicia?"

She was nowhere near him in the rubble of a destroyed city. "Okay, just breathe. Remember all natural laws end here. Just keep moving forward. We have to try and save Hugo." If they could at least...

He kept moving and eventually came upon a destroyed farm. It was his old master Laurentius' farm! What was it doing here?? The farm was ablaze and he could hear screaming. He stopped his ears up, reliving the moment he had seen his master die.

"Let go of the past, Lucas. It's not needed here."

"Hugo?? Is that you??" Lucas asked looking wildly around him. No one was there though.

"Yes, it's me. Come on, you have to keep moving."

Lucas fought the gigantic urge to run into the burning building. He had to keep going. He pushed himself past the burning house towards the field they had ran through to escape the rats, walking haltingly to the windmill at the other end of the farm. It was set ablaze as it had been before.

He stopped when he saw Beatrice de Rune tied to the windmill. The Count's wife, Emilie, was holding a knife up to her neck. No he had to stop her!!

"Let go, Lucas. You have to keep going."

"But... she's my teacher..."

He watched as the count's wife slit her throat again. This was too much. It was too painful. He felt the tears threatening again. He had managed to hide them from Amicia earlier, but he couldn't do it now. Losing another teacher was too much. Keep walking. Keep going.

He pushed past with tears starting to come down his eyes. Wiping them stubbornly away, he kept going. Let go of the past. Keep marching forward.

He wasn't prepared for what happened next though.

Lucas was back in the towns and villages he and Amicia had traveled through over the last year. So many rats and guards. Amicia was calling to him from one of the gates. He had found her thank the Lord!

"Amicia!"

But he stopped. It wasn't her. Or, at least it wasn't the current Amicia. She looked like how she looked when they first met. Not as experienced and  much more scared. Younger. More innocent. He knew this was a dream, but she looked so real. Still so beautiful.

She went ahead into the gate and he tried to scream and tell her to stop, there were too many rats! "No, Amicia!! Stop!!"

She cried out in agony as she was eaten alive. His heart dropped.

Suddenly she was back at the gate beckoning for him to follow. There were some ingredients nearby. Perhaps he could save her?? He ran towards her, but Hugo appeared, grabbing his hand holding him back surprising Lucas. "Hugo?"

Hugo shook his head. "Let her go. You can't do anything. You have to keep moving forward. What was done in the past can no longer be done here."

"But she's dying! I can't... I can't lose her too... it's more than I can bare."

Lucas wanted to stop up his ears as he heard Amicia cry out yet again.

Hugo shook his head.

"Please, Hugo. I can't stand here and do nothing. It hurts..." he slumped down onto his knees, holding onto Hugo's hand as Amicia screamed out again.

Hugo hugged him then, causing everything around them to disappear. Amicia's screams disappearing with it. Lucas breathed a sigh of relief.

"You really love her don't you?"

He looked up at Hugo then, tears threatening to come down his face yet again. "More than you know."

Hugo smiled then looking much older and wiser than his five years. "Good. I need you to take care of her. I've... I've asked her to do something really terrible... and she can't do it alone."

A terrible feeling hit the pit of his stomach. "You've asked her to kill you haven't you?"

Hugo nodded. "Although, I think you knew deep down that was the only option left. Amicia... is still accepting it. And I'm not sure if she can. She may need... help."

Lucas gritted his teeth. "What... can I do?"

"Be with her. And if she can't do it..." Hugo pulled out a crossbow holding it out to him. "I need you to do it for her."

Lucas took the crossbow, hands shaking. "But... she'd never forgive me..."

Hugo looked at him with understanding in his eyes. "Yes, I'm sorry. But it's the only other option I have. I can't... I can't let innocent people die anymore."

Lucas gulped as he looked at the little boy who just wanted to live happily with his sister and family. "I understand, Hugo. I'm sorry I couldn't save you..."

Hugo hugged him again taking Lucas off guard. "You did all you could. You and Amicia are my family, and I need you to keep living. Can you do it?"

Lucas nodded against the young boy's shoulder, unable to speak.

"Good. Now go save my sister. I'm counting on you."

Lucas was suddenly out in an open area still holding the crossbow. He looked down at it and quickly put it on his back. No time to think, he had to find Amicia. There was a tree ahead of him. Oh, it was Hugo... He looked like he was in pain even from many yards away. He gritted his teeth. "I'll keep my promise, Hugo."

He stumbled around for a moment getting his bearings. Then he saw her. Gently, he called out to her as she gazed off into the distance as if she was still dreaming.

He bent down in front of her. Taking her in his arms, he held her tightly.

Her eyes started to clear. "Lucas?" Her voice broke.

Fighting tears, he held her close. "I'm here. I'm here."

*****************************

Amicia didn't have to hear the rest. She hugged him tightly crying freely. Feeling wet tears on her shirt, she knew he was crying quietly too. "My brave alchemist. Thank you. I truly couldn't have done it without you. I love you."

They stayed like that for several more minutes. Finally pulling apart, Amicia stroked back his hair memorizing every little feature to his face. For Lucas to cry meant a lot. He was the most stable person she had ever met. She kissed him and pulled him in once again, Amicia holding his head in her arms. It was her turn to comfort.

Eventually they both fell asleep too exhausted to even say another word.

Read more here! :)

#a plague tale lucas #a plague tale: requiem #a plague tale #amicia de rune #lucas the apprentice #lucas x amicia #amicia x lucas #lumicia #fanfic #ao3 link #iamwriting #i love them #nebula #wattpad

[goblinlovesmusicals]

Can I have something cute between gb and dinah.. or gb and pearl... or a 3sided mutual thing between all 3 of them? Just giving options...

Yeah I can do that :)

It was an incredibly long day for everyone. Every train in their yard had been worked to the frame, so the few remaining hours of sunlight would be a precious time for relaxation.

Dinah and Pearl in particular were planning something.

A little ways from the main rows of sheds, there was a grassy field with flowers scattered about. It would be perfect for a picnic, but in their case it would be utilized for a more fun past time.

It was a rather cloudy day, though it hadn't yet rained, which made Dinah think it would be a wonderful day to Cloud Gaze.

They already found a tarp large enough for the two of them and Greaseball, now they just had to wait for his work to be done for the day so they could take him to the field.

The two coaches were eager for his return, practically bouncing on their skates as his shift came to an end.

Their excitement only intensified when he finally came rolling into the yard, uncoupling the boxcar that had been behind him. He was met by his two coaches nearly tackling him, peppering his face with blue and pink lipstick markings.

"Hi, Greasy!" Pearl beamed, planting an especially long smooch to his forehead, "We made plans for the three of us!"

Greaseball, for his part, took a moment to register that anything had been said, too distracted by all the affection, "Wha...What kinda plans?"

"Take us to the field and you'll see." Dinah said, alluding to the tarp in her bag.

It did not take long for Greaseball to figure out what they wanted to do, and within little time they were cruising down the tracks to the well-loved field.

The clouds had already begun rolling in, sometimes blocking the bright sun from their view and bringing a lovely burst of shade.

By the time they actually reached the field, the fluffy balls of white had begun forming vast shapes across the expanse of the great blue sky.

Dinah laid the tarp across the ground, making way for the mass of gold and pink that was Greaseball and Pearl, the coach practically in his arms already.

Pollen had been disturbed with them plopping down onto the tarp, it would have irritated them if they were not focused on the sky.

"That one looks like a flower!" Dinah pointed to one especially large cloud.

"Looks more like a windmill to me." Greaseball mumbled.

"You think everything looks like a windmill." Pearl giggled. It was true, GB had a bit of a hard time connecting things to items that were not in his line of work, windmills were one of many things that he passed by every day, so they were basically his go-to.

That made Dinah giggle, which made Greaseball blush, which made all three of them start laughing.

What followed was a nice late day of gazing up at the clouds, and none of the trio would rather be anywhere else.

#starlight express #my writing #Dinah x Greaseball x Pearl #Idk what to call this ship #uhhh #Blue and Gold Pearls? #drabbles #stex