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#malachite is my babe
May I please ask for headcanons on they the other version of the recruits react to mine?
Of course boo! I feel like a kid swapping baseball cards with a neighborhood kid
How they met was a random visit in the city by the gang, mostly for the siblings to find a place to perform and Jane Vera and Dante just followed to hang out, the same time when the friend group were in the city for college lessons and personal reasons
It gave them a heart attack by accident with this:
Joe sits at a small table with a drink as he relaxes for a bit and Jac walks over mostly covered in his red jacket with the hood up cause it's cold so Joe didn't notice right away, and Jac starts ranting about the cold and soon brings up a "hot babe" from a bar visit he went to and asked if wants details.
Joe goes pales and nervously and slowly getting angry ask "But what about Roxy?" In which Jac, assuming it's his best bud and referring to a chick previous said, "what about her?"
Luckily before Joe could sock this guy a new one Sia walks over with two cups of coffee and sat in front of them and starts complaining about a phone call with her boss' assistance (this world of Pan and Panic) who lost an important file
Jac and Sia talk back and forth and Joe slowly begins to question reality when Jac tries to convince Sia to go clubbing with her the weekend and how she needs to find a nice guy
Somewhere else in the building Jack is checking the sound when Joseph randomly sat beside him and said "Okay, so there's this cult documentary I watched last night right?" and just goes off on the documentary he was watching and complaining about his step-mom which is a normal vent which was a huge load of "whoa" on Jack
Then how it all tied together
Ivan was walking around and stopped by the vending machines and heard a voice a lot like Aya, now homeboy been crushing on her for a long time and been holding off letting those feelings known. So what he do? He goes over and starts talking until Zuri turns around and the two just stare at each other like "wtf"
Then Cece comes in while Sha comes in the same time and everyone's like "wait, wtf-"
So after gathering everyone introductions were made with Jack trying to be extra sure they were real and not magical beings like the recruiters, best not open that can of worms of the Disney Villain Recruiters just yet boo
Apologizes were made after everything
Wilhelm was mainly staring at Vince in per astonishment. He had similar features of his face but was obviously proud of his looks and not hiding him unlike himself, he was open with emotions when he wasn't, and not to mention Vince has a girlfriend when he barely dated. The two soon do bond over childhood stuff and books with Vince comfortable enough to show the guy a picture of Stephanie
Wilhelm scrunch his face u and said "Sorry. She just looks like Margaret" "Is she nice?" "She's a girl who lives in my building. We don't get along" Vince was just happy he hasn't met Apple Poison yet
Joseph was kind of taken aback at Joe in a way since he, like Vince, is open and not hiding like he is. The bond over the ocean and talk about Misty and Arielle together when they're away from others
Sia's first thought of Cece was she reminded her of her past self a bit. The two talk and as Sia soon mentioned her work and how she got a fancy ass home (she showed pictures) she was surprised to hear Cece offer to ruin her family's life with ease and bring even more damage to her ex-fiance. She simply grinned as they realized they're more similar than they seem and everyone can simply shutter in the idea of these two working together with Sia being Cece's main alibi if needed
Charles was amazed by Malachite. Like he has a band??? They talk about their life styles and Charles did his hardest to try and not tell Malachite his past but when it did he used way more physical power to make sure he won't go rampage
Aya adores Zuri to bits. Like tons of compliments and giggles. Like best friends imminently attached. Those two swap contacts with each other within the first 20 minutes of their talk. She just finds her so pretty and so happy she has a great life
Sha couldn't stop but find Nadia so pretty and so impressed by her boldness "So your dad lets your party?" "Uh, by dad you mean mom yeah." The two chat about being the younger ones of their groups and favorite activities and hobbies with Sha seeing more and more of the confidence she needs to grow through Nadia. Probably won't sleep with people much as she shows off the purity ring she had since she was 7 though she admitted to have dated and kissed before
Jac totally digs this Jack guy! They seemingly have a lot in common and Jack even got promises to have discounts at the diner he works at with Maria. There was a lot of apologies with Jac saying sorry about Jack maybe nearly kicking his ass kicked but assumption he's cheating on his girl
Janice was pretty much "wanna hang out?" with Jane and they two had a lot of deep nice conversations about life and their dads which Janice can't help but smiling hearing how nice her family sounds and how she luckily didn't have her childhood
Maria was more or less confused of Vera. Yes they had things in common, but she was... open of her feelings and her likes. There was no issue if she listens to rock music? She's open she's gay?? It honestly scared the poor girl more with the idea someone like her was worried all this time when it' isn't a big deal
Ivan fucking LOVES Dante man! They both talk about fashions, their moms, certain cute brown hair childhood besties in their lives
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daezedglownut · 2 years
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15, 19, 20
15. What’s your favourite plotless fic you have written?
My problem is when I start something I want to be plotless, I end up smuggling in a dash of plot just for funsies xD
The closest thing is probably my RaiLeon fic which is a THIN THREAD OF PLOT surrounding the juicy chunk of meat that comprises the shameless smut aspect xD
19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.
The knight feels something take a stranglehold of his heart when Sylvando scoops the tiny beast into his arms like a newborn babe. It happens again when the Sabrecub, as one of Jasper’s guards leans in for a closer look, extends its claws and tries for a swipe at his helmet.
“Aw, isn’t he just the cutest little thing you ever did see?” Sylvando coos, tickling the cub’s exposed belly.
“I dare say he is…” comes Jasper’s soft reply.
“Oh, but he’ll need a name!” Sylvando looks thoughtful. “Something to go with those pretty green eyes!”
“I expect the naming traditions of Heliodor may just about cover it… we could always name him after my great uncle.” Jasper taps his chin in thought before chancing, “Malachite..?”
The Sabrecub scrunches up its nose before sneezing.
“Oh, I don’t think he liked that one,” the jester titters.
Emerald, it turned out, was a non-starter - as were Diopside, Demantoid, and Fluorite.
“Fine, then perhaps Peridot?”
At that, Sylvando’s face lights up. “We could call him Perry for short!” Just as Jasper is about to interject that such an act renders the point of such a regal name entirely obsolete, the Sabrecub begins to purr. “Aww, see? He likes it! Don’t you, Perry?”
Jasper is once again about to argue that the creature probably doesn’t understand a damn word coming out of Sylvando’s jabbering mouth, but the scene before him is so cloyingly sweet, that the words stick to his tongue.
“Perry it is,” he nods.
Sylvando lays a kiss on Perry’s forehead with an audible ‘mwah’. “So, tell me more about this great uncle Malachite!”
“Hung, drawn, and quartered by the time I entered this world. I have it on good authority that he set about expunging the entire populace of a settlement which now no longer appears on the map,” Jasper relays almost fondly. “Families,” he adds with a chuckle.
“¡Je Je Je! Yeah, he sounds like a real card…” Sylvando then let’s the squirming bundle in his arms go as it crawls and claws it’s way up his shoulder, plucking several ladders in the expensive silk fabric of his costume.
20. Do you work on a single project or many at the same time? How does that work for you?
Sometimes a few at a time tbh
It works well because if I find myself struggling with one, I can always spend time on the other, and vice versa.
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beautifulsnake2162020 · 11 months
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The Vitulation Cycle: An Arthuriana fanfiction (King Arthur x OC and Arthur x Guinevere x Lancelot [eventually]) CHAPTER 1: DAENARA
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction I do not make any money from this. Cultist Simulator elements belongs to the Weather Factory, House of the Dragon/Game of thrones elements belongs to George RR Martin and Arthuriana while generally regarded as under the public domain, it comes from the culture of Britain.
AN: So like many things this was made out of impulse (the chapter not the story), and I can only hope you enjoy. This was largely inspired by practically almost every Arthur x Guinevere x Lancelot fanfic in AO3 but like many things I wanted to play around with it. Also please comment I'd like to know what you are thinking.
Chapter 1: Daenara
"Not all doors are wounds; but all wounds are doors."
"Is that so?" The boy whom you were healing laying on a many layered mat asked in amusement. There was still some baby fat left on his face, but it wouldn't be long before it would go away. He told you he was 16; arguably ready to be married if he wasn't already engaged. His fiery red hair stood out from the pillow no matter how short it was. He was near mortally wounded and he was helped by his sister who was raven haired. Fortunately you couldn't sleep and you were able to assist your mother in healing him.
"Shall I continue or would you like to hear a boring story?" You tease back as you start unraveling the bandages on his arm.
"Go on, this is the first time I have heard of this."
"And you shall understand the context of it soon. But I would appreciate it if you didn't interrupt."
He chuckles softly before briefly wincing as you clean the wound with the distilled alcohol kept for the purposes of the healing arts. Although it didn't stop your older brothers from pouring it into their wine skins discreetly.
"Very well." You take a swig of water from your own cup before continuing in telling your commune's story as you continue cleaning his arm wound.
"Not all doors are wounds; but all wounds are doors.
This was the key to their sacred ritual.
For in their desperation they have decided to summon the hours.
In hopes that they have a remedy for their childless days.
The priest and priestess make the wounds at the center of each hand.
For hands are the parts most used.
It is the hands which open doors with wounds such as these.
Then the hours of the Malachite and the Colonel came to inhabit their bodies through the wounds.
In the bodies of the childless couple, they ask the priest and priestess the purpose of their summoning.
'They are both barren, but want a child born from their flesh and blood.
Exhausted all the ordinary means, in their desperation they ask if you two could grant their request.
They offer you two their bodies in celebration of your marriage till the sun rises in exchange for your help.'
And so the Malachite and the Colonel made vigorous love till the sun rose.
So intense was their love and union that they have changed the very bodies they temporarily inhabited.
Just before they left, the Malachite instructed the Priest and Priestess on what to do.
The childless couple was instructed thus:
Await a couple of weeks to check for a babe;
If a babe is not yet present, the couple may make love and await two weeks more.
If a babe is present, this babe shall be the first among many,
To have the last name Targaryen
And from then on, anyone born in the Targaryen line shall have the blood anew;
Blood most healing and divine.
From this, the commune of Valyrians emerged
Under the care and tutelage of the Malachite and the Colonel.
The hours so married, the hours so loved."
"Did they know their names?"
"From what my grandparents told me, the Malachite and the Colonel introduced themselves that way. All my ancestors were trying to summon was 'the hours who are married and who blesses the wedding bed'. For awhile they were frequent visitors who guided our commune until they believed that we could now survive on our own without their direct interference."
You then take the new bandages just beside you and you begin redressing his arm wound.
"Or at least that's what our elders say. I was born too late to know first hand if such things are indeed true."
"And yet you are the one with the healing blood."
"I still await an alternative explanation to why I and my family has this blood. I am more likely to believe that my ancestors were part of a magical experiment made by the priest and the priestess rather than the Gods who call themselves the hours possessed their bodies and changed them to become fertile."
You guide him to sit before beginning to unwrap the bandages around his chest. The wound on his torso would have been fatal if you hadn't been there on time to cut a wound on the palm of your hand and pour your meager healing blood on it. A few drops of your blood was enough to save him from meeting the silence of death.
"Where I come from, people tend to either fully have faith or to fully have none in the divine."
"I doubt that. Perhaps you just don't know them enough to know that there are people such as I who are somewhere in between."
"Didn't you just say that you have doubts with your commune's story?"
"I do. But that doesn't mean I don't believe that the hours or Gods don't exist. I just don't believe that they were directly involved. There's a difference between disbelieving and being skeptical of the stories told."
His sister came to check on him as you were finishing his bandages. You could tell she was a mage since you could see in her eyes when you used your blood to heal her brother how rare and valuable your blood was. Mages and students of magic were frequent visitors to your commune. It was a mutually beneficial relationship. You and your family gave them your special blood, they gave you resources, protection, and more efficient ways to gather blood. It wasn't long before she herself came and asked you if what she saw was real, and which mages we were providing our blood to.
A humorous encounter with the red haired boy came to your mind.
Kyrelle, a mage who specializes in the healing arts, was helping you fit a blood cup, an instrument the mages have made to help make blood collection during a person's monthly cycle more efficient. There were complaints that the blood washed out from the rags became less potent with the necessary dilution of washing it off. The blood chalice was an unusual instrument. Made of a substance the mages call rubber which allowed it to be folded and to be restored in it's previous shape once stored inside. Only women of the Targaryen family were granted the privilege of using these instruments since it was quite costly to make.
The red haired boy, whom you have come to know as Arthur had walked in while you were lying down with your legs spread while Kyrelle was teaching you how to relax and how to put one inside. You remember being flustered and his face turning red before he ran out. All his wounds were healed at that point. He and his sister Morgan chose to stay in the commune since they were running away from the lives they have back in their home.
"I feel I have no choice in choosing which path I should take. So much is placed on my shoulders that I couldn't help but start to resent it." He explains as you two were having a picnic under the shade of the tree.
"Am I wrong in wanting to simply be like any other boy my age?"
He still wouldn't tell you what he's running away from. And while you are curious, you could also tell that it was a burden that he hasn't coped with yet.
"No, I felt the same way when I began learning of what my commune expects me to do as a woman with special blood. I was angry about all these sudden new obligations that was suddenly passed down to me."
"You don't seem that way now."
"And I'm glad for it."
"What did you do to cope?" He asks, his voice carrying the weight of his exhaustion mixed with it.
"I don't know if I actually did." You couldn't help but giggle as he raises an eyebrow in disbelief.
"You can't be serious."
"I am."
"You suddenly side with the elders?"
"Not exactly, but...hmmm...how should I explain this?" You take a bite of a strawberry as you form your thoughts.
"I think I've realized how important my job is. What I dislike is the lack of choice in not doing it. I'm more motivated in knowing I've made a difference no matter how small it is. It's the small things that tends to brighten my day whenever I have a bad one."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, I have you to thank for that."
"Hmm?"
"I was thinking if I still had any value left here. As you've noticed we Targaryens are rather plentiful among the Valyrians and I am the youngest among the ladies who could safely give blood. I was wondering if maybe I should explore life outside of the commune to know how I really am without the influence of my family or of the commune. I felt I didn't contribute anything. How can I when I have so much of my family already doing so? Then you and Morgan came into our commune one night."
"And you healed me with your blood."
"Yes. And before I knew it I stayed. I still want to know what life is like outside, but life in the commune isn't so bad now."
He smiled at you.
You didn't know exactly when but somehow you feel more elated and could never really stay mad at the red haired boy. He gradually became a man and began serving the Valyrian commune in resolving disputes within. His sister Morgan became a liaison between the mages and the Valyrian commune.
You remember feeling your heart beat rapidly as you gaze upon him dancing during the wedding feast of the Malachite and the Colonel every September 25th. Realizing that it had been three years since he and Morgan arrived. You don't recall when you fell in love with him, you just knew you were.
As you slip among the participants of the dance, doing your best to smoothly make your way to him, you recall how you shared laughs under the moonlight as he escorted you to the ritual ground to witness your older brother's wedding. Like him, your brother's bride was initially an outsider who eventually became a part of the commune.
You recall how you two would simply talk underneath the coolest shade. Quite frequently your discussions naturally went to the discussion of one's personal being.
"Perhaps I am a bad influence on you. Revelling in my selfishness of being here."
" You call resolving disputes and helping the commune in any way you can selfish? If that's the case then I must be damned already."
He couldn't help but laugh at the thought of that statement being true.
"You are not damned yet. You have yet to become an outlaw."
"I thought we agreed that my plans of being an outlaw is a secret between us?"
"Quite the risk that you would confide in me then."
"One that I would hope is worth it."
You both laugh, neither of you could take the discussion seriously anymore. Neither of you pulled away as you returned to your home with your hands in his.
Hands joined, he smoothly pulls you into his embrace. Not disturbing the dance in the celebration night of the Malachite and the Colonel. He didn't need words to tell you that he was there for you and everything is fine. You two danced, you pushing and he responding to complement every challenge you gave. Your mother commented that he was your best dance partner. And he was, you two would dance in every celebration.
Your favorite was when you two danced in your wedding.
Taking place five days after the wedding feast of the Malachite and the Colonel, you and he became one under Valyrian traditions. Each of you had an obsidian blade. A light wound made in each of your lips with your respective blades. The priest or priestess makes the glyphs for fire and blood in your foreheads. His was the glyph of fire and yours was the glyph of blood. Whenever a Targaryen married an outsider of the commune they would be assigned the fire glyph since the Targaryen already carries the special blood.
Then a wound was made at the center of your hands. The hands then join as the priest or priestess wraps a cloth around your hands and the blood is squeezed out into a bowl or saucer. The blood caught from the spouses to be is then poured into the wedding goblet wherein the priest adds water and the preferred wine of the spouses. Then each take a sip from the goblet. The wedding is then concluded, and this is the time when the newlyweds kiss.
And you weren't going to miss that opportunity.
And neither were either of you going to miss the opportunity to make love in the ritual ground wherein your ancestors were said to have allowed Gods to possess them as they make love and conceived the first generation of Targaryens. You may not entirely believe the tale, but neither would you miss the opportunity to take advantage of the commune's resources.
After all no one would want to miss the opportunity to have another Targaryen carrying the special blood.
There was a sacredness to the ritual ground that has two mattresses joined together to make one large bed. Several poles which held the tent covering the ritual ground allowed room for privacy and protection from the weather.
"Arthur -"
"Mmm Daenara" He moans into your entrance as he pleasures you with his delightful tongue.
After you came once, you turned him and laid him on his back as you rode him. His hands on your hips as he goes up as you go down.
That was the fourth year since his arrival in the commune.
A few months after your wedding, you, Arthur, and Morgan were making your way to a mage school. You and Arthur agreed that you should have some experience outside the commune while it was still early in your marriage. An opportunity arose in the mage school of Doethineb arall, they were looking for a teacher to teach the High Valyrian language to the younger adepts. The earlier they were taught the better.
"Can you not just make a portal going into the school?"
"In this case no. If it was any other place without magical protection I would be able to. But just like the commune, Doethineb has magical protections in place. And it would be too suspicious if we suddenly made an appearance near the school. This could endanger everyone within the magical protective barrier."
"We should be fine travelling ordinarily, I doubt anyone will even recognize us anymore Morgan."
"You're lucky that Daenara doesn't complain about your beard valonqar."
Your group was about midway - or so Morgan says - to Doethineb arall when it all went wrong.
Arthur was out hunting as you and Morgan stayed in an inn. You confided in her of your suspicions and the two of you were awaiting the arrival of Kyrelle. Hunting was just an excuse to get Arthur out of the house.
"Well, it seems you are."
You couldn't help but be elated and you couldn't hide your anticipation for Arthur to return.
Unfortunately this was not the case.
You don't know why today of all days there was a riot going on. You don't know what the quarrel nor what the conflict was, but almost everyone who was a local was being slaughtered. Kyrelle opened a portal near the school to escape, Morgan opened a discreet portal to wherever Arthur was.
You arrived just in time.
Arthur was fighting off a group of rioters who surrounded him and who has stolen his kills of several dead rabbits. He wasn't afraid to fight dirty, in situations like these it was a necessity. Morgan quickly zapped a succession of discreet lightnings to shock the rioters who was going to attack from behind.
But it was sadly not enough.
You didn't know how it happened but all you could remember is seeing Arthur fall.
A stab wound straight to the heart.
Just above the mortal wound that brought him to you in the first place.
You would be damned if he's going to die now.
"Daenara"
"Arthur, darling just stay with me."
You carefully pull the dagger out of his heart as you instruct Morgan to preserve his blood flow.
You take your obsidian dagger that was used on your wedding day.
You make a wound on your hand and squeeze it above the potentially mortal wound.
It'll just take a few drops.
You were confident that you were once again able to heal him when you felt a sting on your neck before fading into the darkness.
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harpielizard · 3 years
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WIP
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Coming soon...
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grifalinas · 4 years
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Oh boy oh boy, I got to write Mrs. Junior for the first time today and I cannot WAIT till y’all meet her she’s so much fun I love her so much aaaa
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Once a crystal child. Always will be a crystal child🔮💎💫⚖️🖤
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boneandfur · 3 years
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Chapter Ten
Word count: 3030 // tags: @darley1101 @ritachacha @debramcg1106 @indiacater @thatcatlady0716 @enmchoices @breaumonts @walkerismychoice @princess-geek @nomadics-stuff
October, 1820.
London
"Must I?" I opened one eye, squinting into the mirror at the reflection of my Lady Grandmother as Violette expertly pinned up my hair.
My Lady Grandmother opened her fan, and shut it again. She shook her head, then moved forward to stand beside me. I had never noticed until now how frail she looked, as if living so far away from us for all these years had sucked the joie de vivre out of her. "Your husband will be here this night."
My fists clenched in my skirts, seeking comfort. I had not seen him since... since... Our last words came to me, and I was unable to meet her eyes in the glass.
"Please -- don't do this!"
"Do what? Play the game? Well, it is too late to turn back now."
Ned. Tonight. My nerves were shot, and I felt the trembling begin in my hands, unable to stop it.
It had been near six months gone already. I had woken up that morning after Sinclaire's departure to find an extra candle on the bedside table with no memory of it being put there, and the overpowering scent of hawthorn blossoms in the room.
I sent letter upon letter to his club in London, but received no answer.
My wounded pride prevented me from returning to London -- What if he would not see me? What if he slammed the door in my face?
And I found myself with child -- by the local midwife's reckoning, I was just shy of the quickening -- but my grief was doubled when I lost the babe soon after, and I had not felt at my best since. A little brother or sister for Susanna...
"Perdita." My Lady Grandmother sighed, resting a hand on mine. "You are not the first wife to wound her husband, and he is not the man I would have chosen for you, but I only ever wished for your happiness."
Even when you would have wed me to the odious Duke? "I know, Grandmama." My tremulous smile slipped, and she squeezed my hand.
"Well, if you are quite done with giving yourself over to the megrims, I shall take over from here." Henrietta. My back prickled.
With one last squeeze of my hand, my Lady Grandmother nodded to her daughter-in-law and took herself from the room.
"There." Violette's thickly accented voice was close to my ear. "Le maître will not be able to keep 'is eyes off you."
She had done a clever thing with my hair, but it was the tiara that was the thing, delicate strands of gold woven to look like grass, studded with flower petals lined with mother of pearl and malachite chips, the very thing Mithridates the Great had poisoned himself with.
Ned had bought it for me in Italy. A trifling thing, he had called it then, his tone flippant. And his words had proved to be so, for it had lain in my trunks for years, given little importance. But Violette had remembered.
I caught her sleeve as she moved to go, this dark haired elfin creature I had hired on the spot after I saw her give no quarter with the sharp edge of her tongue to a pair of highwaymen upon the Ratcliffe Highway. She was the penniless youngest daughter of a minor house, somewhere in France, but that was all I knew of her story.
"Eros will shake 'is mind, like a mountain wind falling on oak trees(1). Zut! Ce sera ce que ce sera." Then she kissed my cheek, and brushed haughtily past Henrietta, pulling back her midnight blue skirts as if the merest touch would taint her.
"That girl! I do not know why you insist upon having such insolent help! My housekeeper tells me she's stirred up a fervor of rebellion in my servants, and I shall not brook such insubordination! ... But no matter." Henrietta smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. "My son shall be at the gathering tonight. I expect everything to go smoothly, as he is vying for support in Parliament."
My shock must have shown on my face. I rose, shaking out my skirts. The hanging beads on my cap sleeves tinkled, like the cowslips and bluebells along the track to Grovershire. The dress was a strange color, a white gauzy silk with shimmers of pink and palest blue, like the inside of a shell. It was a maiden's dress, I knew. And I was no longer that innocent child. "He is, of course he is." But I could not keep up the farce with Henrietta, whose lips curved in triumph.
"The Sinclaires of Ledford Park shall be here tonight, though I question the wisdom of Felicity's mother in allowing her to go out in such a crush." Her hand shot out and gripped my elbow. "You will not humiliate him tonight." We both knew who he was.
I felt like a ghost of my former self, but was able to call up my pride. "You shall have no argument from me. I shall be an ornament to your son tonight, madam. Now, leave me." She swept from the room, and I collapsed into the chair, my knees still trembling, not daring to think of what it could all mean.
But how will I face him tonight, after all that has gone so long unspoken between us?
•••
The house had already begun to fill for the party. I planned to make no grand entrance, but to slip into the drawing room unnoticed, an ornament in truth. First, however, I would visit my daughter, for I had promised to let her see me in my finery that night.
It had been hard for Susanna to leave Edgewater, and in truth I sooner would not have left, had my Lady Grandmother not importuned me to make haste to London, to show my face for the Season.
The countryside does not agree with you, Perdita. Quit Edgewater, and come to Bath. If you will not, then hie to London forthwith, for it shall put the bloom back into your cheeks.
The house in London, as you know, is being rented to a baronet's family for the Season, and so Lady Henrietta has extended an olive branch. We are to stay with her at her townhouse in Mayfair, for the entirety of the Season, and she has begged me to use my influence upon you to come.
You will find her much more willing to make peace, I think, especially after you saved her son's leg, and I daresay his life as well...
But what of my husband?
I trailed my fingers along the balustrade, and then pressed gently at the handle of the nursery door.
The door to the nursery opened a crack, and there was my husband, lying with one elbow propped on the nursery rug, playing at tin soldiers and dolls upon the floor with our daughter. He looked different -- more weary, I thought, as though he had not been sleeping properly. His hair was cropped in the perennial fashion, the Brutus, he had worn it since his youth: curls pomaded on top and long golden sideburns. His dress for the party was all over elegant, from the line of his breeches to the cut of his coat, which emphasized his broad shoulders. He wore his cravat tied in an elaborate style, and the points of his collar were starched and stiff.
"Mama!" Susanna gave a joyous shout, jumping up and dashing across the room to fling herself into my arms. She took after her father, with a mop of strawberry curls and big dark eyes.
"Now, now, yer ladyship, yer gettin' her all excited, she'll never settle down for bed now," the nurse fretted. "Say goodnight to your lady mama and your papa, pet."
I knelt on the carpet. I could feel Ned watching me, though he did not speak. "I shall see you upon the morrow, Susanna."
"Yes, listen to Nurse, and be a good girl for her, poppet." Ned swung Susanna into the air, kissing her noisily on both cheeks as she squealed in joy. The nurse clucked her tongue.
"Spoiling the little miss, the pair of you!"
Ned looked down at me, his eyes lingering a touch too long upon the tiara in my hair, though his expression remained unmoved. "Shall I escort you downstairs, madam?"
I took his arm and we went from the nursery, not speaking a word to one another. I wanted to stroke the line of his jaw, I wanted to slow down time, but he ignored my meticulous walk and tugged me along with him, as though he could not wait to abandon me in the crush. We entered the gaming room and a hullabaloo of welcome cries went up from one of the tables. Without looking at me Ned said in stilted politeness, "Go to the party. I shall see you again at breakfast," abandoning me to his mother and the wolves.
•••
All night I was the polite Countess, and every minute until seemed to stretch by endlessly as I waited for breakfast to be called. I saw Sinclaire once or twice in the crowd, he inclined his head a merest fraction of an inch, but I felt his eyes upon me all night.
The chairs were pulled back at a half past midnight for the dancing, and the hired musicians stuck up a fast country dance. A young buck barely out of his breeching trews asked me to dance, and then another, and another, and I soon forgot my troubles in the whirl of laughter and high spirits. Would that I were still a young lass, and not a matron already at not even thirty!
When the country dances and quadrilles had done, I took my place along the wall drinking a foamy ale, the matrons glaring at me or outright ignoring me for taking up all the fun with their daughters' suitors.
"Why, look who it is, languishing in the weeds like a wildflower." Duke Richards stood in front of me, that popinjay, dressed to the nines in crimson and cream. I had not heard him announced, but in truth I would not have realized it if Prinny himself had been announced, so far gone was I in my desire for my husband's company beside me at the breakfast table. The Duke's odor of brandy was pungent, and the liberal splashing of cologne on his wrists did not help to overpower the smell.
"At least wildflowers bathe in morning dew before they unfurl their finery." The retort was out of my mouth before I could stop it, and his pupils darkened. He stared at my breasts, and then extended a hand to me.
"I will take this waltz, Countess."
There was no way to politely decline. I became very aware of eyes in the crowd on me, and remembered my promise to be Ned's ornament this night. Bile rose in my throat at the thought of the Duke's fingers upon me.
I took the Duke's hand, and he led me to the floor, the crowd parting seamlessly before us with obeisance for his royal lineage. The room felt all of a sudden too close, and when he placed a hand upon my waist, I could not help but shudder.
I caught the expression upon Henrietta's face at the corner of the crowd, fanning herself madly as she drank her wine. She looked most vexed. It was triumph, but no triumph with the Duke ever came without a price.
"Come, come, Perdita." The Duke looked down upon me and smiled. There was a sinister quality to it that I could not miss. "If this waltz does not allow your petals to unfurl, then it is a cold bed indeed that your husband slips into this night. Or perhaps he prefers more exotic blooms than yours, hmm?"
I felt the color rise in my cheeks. Randy old satyr. The tip of his stalk could be felt from the front of his breeches as he pressed his pelvis against mine, and a pitiful thing it was, too. "He likes an English rose much better than a hothouse flower."
"I know, my dear." The Duke tapped my waist, inclining his head slightly to the left. There stood his duchess, laughing and flirting, bosom cut low enough to put a Covent Garden trollop to shame. And beside her... my gorge rose in my throat. There was my husband, paying her court, fair head bent over her dark one. "Love is a gamble, is it not?"
As I watched, Theresa laid a hand on my husband's arm, and Ned fixed me with an intense stare, one that left me chilled to the marrow. The duchess picked up her skirts, not aware of anything amiss, and with a bright laugh, followed my husband to the gaming tables. The Duke tapped me again.
"Tut, tut. We'll have no tears tonight." The waltz seemed interminable, but there was no way to politely escape it. "I see that you are halfway to a swoon. I smell divine, my dear. Did you know that my cologne came from Paris, before the war? Why, it was worn by King Louis himself!"
I sighed inwardly. It was no small thing I had to do. "And do you wear it in Parliament?"
The Duke scoffed. "Why, no. It is for the pleasure of the ladies." He dropped his voice to a murmur, his breath tickling my ear in a way that made my stomach turn. "They like to give me a private tour of their gardens, you see, and I find that a strong scent makes the Act of Venus all the sweeter."
"I'm sure they can barely feel your stalk in their gardens, sir!" I smiled sweetly up at him, and watched with pleasure as his face mottled with rage. "And they laugh as it goes limp as any common weed!"
My words rang out in the sudden lull. Someone giggled, I knew not who, and there was a twittering behind fans and the sound of people coughing to hide their laughter. The Duke's face was utterly still. A muscle twitched in his cheek. When he looked down at me, his body had gone rigid, and his eyes were black with fury.
I made to disentangle myself, but he caught my wrist fast, his nails digging into the soft skin. "You will take me to the gardens," he growled through clenched teeth, and I felt my insides tremble with sudden terror. "And I will pound your petals to mulch, English rose."
I cast around wildly for a friend, but no one would meet my eyes. The Duke began to drag me through the crowd towards the balcony, and the music struck up again. I tried to stop in my tracks but he pulled me along with surprising strength, causing me to stumble.
"I'm afraid the Lady Perdita has promised the rest of her dance card to me, Your Grace." Sinclaire stood in front of the Duke, barring him from the balcony. My heart pounded a staccato against my ribs.
"You heard the wench." The Duke was breathing heavily. "She's to give me a tour of the gardens. Now, out of my way, Sinclaire, or you'll have to answer to the King."
Sinclaire did not move. "Perdita?"
I shot him a look of such relief, I could barely speak. "Yes... it's true. I do not wish to take you to the gardens, Duke Richards. I fear they are overblown."
"Only because he's been plowing your furrow." The Duke poked a finger in Sinclaire's chest. "Well, have at the goods, Sinclaire, and I wish you all the misery of knowing they've been plowed by many a man before you!" He turned to me, a menace in his tone. "This is not over, Perdita Sharp. Not by a long shot."
Sinclaire's mouth tightened. I put a hand on Sinclaire's sleeve, shaking my head almost imperceptibly. But the Duke had gone.
•••
"Are you quite all right, Perdita?" Sinclaire and I stood on the balcony, the cool air soothing after the heat of the ballroom. My heart was still pounding, and I sat on a stone bench, clinging to it for support. Sinclaire sat down beside me, lacing his fingers through mine. "What happened?"
"I..." I put a hand up to my cheek, it was wet. "I ruined everything." I turned to him, passion in my voice. "Tonight was supposed to turn the tide, I was supposed to curry support for Ned, I was supposed to..."
Sinclaire's lip curled. "With him? Who in the bloody hell --" he rose, fists clenched, beginning to pace. "Who in God's name would send you on so errant a mission? That man is your enemy! Was it your husband?" He ran his hands through his hair. "No, for all his faults, Ned Marlcaster would never put you in harm's way." Sinclaire spun on his heel. "His mother, then."
He made to go to the ballroom and I jumped up, taking his hands in mine. "I was quite safe!" My voice rose, betraying the lie.
"Perdita." Sinclaire drew me close, and I let him hold me, the beat of his heart against my ear lulling me into peace as it matched my own. He twined his fingers through mine, brushing my hair back from my cheek with the other hand. "Are you happy?"
I looked up at him, on the tip of my tongue all the things I wished to say... To my husband.
My husband.
I looked up, and there he was, standing just outside the French doors that led back into the ballroom. When I met his gaze, a terrible chill passed straight down my spine, and I broke from Sinclaire's arms, crying out, "Ned!" for all of polite society to hear.
His expression went dark, and he turned on his heel abruptly, swallowed up in another instant by the crowd.
Footnote:
(1): Violette has quoted Sappho, and her words in French mean "it will be what it will be".
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shinygoku · 3 years
Text
Further to my musing about the difficulties in finding a favourite irl Engine, I’ll note down my Preferences, things that grab my attention faster and contrarywise, the stuff I’d prefer to just rule out off the bat. So this is probably going to make be sound Snobbish but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I really dig some elements, babes! And maybe it’ll help narrow things down and make it easier to find one that resonates~
As before, I’m talkin’ British Standard Gauge only!
Also I’ll try not to end up with one of the classes used in TTTE, however I will be relating to them for some features ;3
Funnel should be slender and somewhat tall (as much as Thomas’ is described as Short and Stumpy, I think it looks very nice!) or even Notably Tall (eg Terriers). Brass cap a neat feature but not essential.
I have a general preference for Smaller Engines. While most Tank Engines get in this category by default, Tender Engines are very variable but Edward offers a very nice template.
Tenders themselves are a bit bothersome, but the Engine part of those sets can be so elegant and cute I overlook this lol
Tank Engines come in a few different types, but my favourites are Side Tanks and Well Tanks. Panniers are a fun novelty but not exactly my cup of tea, and Saddle Tanks where the smokebox doesn’t extend past the tank don’t please me aesthetically at all! Saddle Tanks with the Smokebox out are a lot better, but still.... Side or Well, please
In general I’m bothered by the overexposure LNERs get, lmao. They have a lot of very nice types but many look samey to me, some kind of variant on the A1, and that these are the engines seemingly prioritised in preservation and rebuilding, which is a lack of diversity
The exception to the LNER stance is the V2 / Green Arrow who I love very much. It helps that he’s smaller but still very strong! 💚🚂💚
Honestly a lot of the pre-grouping designs and liveries ruled and I’m annoyed so many went extinct and that preserved locos are so often just BR Black [sometimes Dark Green but don’t count on it!]
I really like it when the Siderods are painted in a contrasting colour. It’s a small detail but lends a lot of life!
Not a fan of Streamlined designs, even the A4s look kinda like plastic casing to me.
Other Structures around the smokebox lose points with me
No particular Wheel Formation preferences, as long as it looks like enough for the Engine not to topple over. 0-4-0s are on thinner ice than 0-6-0s in this regard because they look like they’d tip over if they pulled or pushed too much.
Ideally the Loco in question would be preserved, even if static, cause then one can walk up to the engine, pat the engine and take pictures of the engine (but oh! to ride along with the engine!!) 🚂🌠
Double Ideally they’d retain a snazzy paint scheme, like the Southern Malachite is simply beautiful ✨
Triple Ideally I would be able to have it in model form 😹
Man, do I sound fussy or what? But myeah, I’m just thinking out loud partially for my own use, if I’m gonna pick out from hundreds and hundreds it helps to narrow the criteria. Maybe I’ll make a follow up post with some examples that fit some/most of these points but the research is hard...!
ᓚᘏᗢ
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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years
Text
Motion Sickness Chapter 58
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I didn't find anything on myself or my sisters on Merlot's computers. I was guessing that that laboratory predated me and them. Besides, if the mustached man was right, I was doomed to never find anything on my sisters in Merlot's labs. I was only digging through his computers for myself, then. And I really just didn't have the energy for it and I transferred the notes to my scroll for later bookkeeping and examination.
Peach, Neo, and I descended back into Nibelheim and I took a train from there back to Atlas. I said my farewells to Peach and her teacher. I wasn't sure I'd ever see the pink eyed, blonde bruiser again, but you never really know. She'd done good work by me. I left her with a dust crystal to remember me by for that.
I had to find out who the mustached man was. I consulted Aurum but with only a vague description he didn't have much of any support for me. He was helpful, I suppose, as helpful as he could be given how lackluster my ability to give details on the man was. I mean I knew he had a dark blue suit trimmed in yellow but that was only so helpful. The green eyes and mustache were, I was guessing, more solid but only slightly.
Aurum then put me in contact with the group who had been in the know on the General's secret project. There was a bar down in Mantle where they met and I was told to go there. This group, this Avalanche, had details that I needed if I wanted to stay on top of things.
They called the bar Seventh Heaven.
The bar looked like a rickety enough place. It sort of reminded me of the Malachites' bar. Except the Malachites' bar was nicer. If such a thing could be believed.
I swept into the place with Neo beside me and I had a quick look around. There was a bar area with some seats and a few tables. There was also a pac-ping machine in one of the corners that didn't interest me much at all. The place was all brown wood and grey brick. It was covered in soot from the mines and the whole place could use a thorough cleaning. I was wary of even ordering anything from their bar.
A redheaded faunus cleaned a glass with a rag behind the counter. Her hair was done up in a ponytail and she had pretty brown eyes. She had Valean features with a bit of an oval face and a long fox tail which swished behind her as she worked.
She wore armor over a tight blue shirt that exposed her smooth flat stomach and her bellybutton. She had a red scarf over her forehead and loose brown pants around her hips leading down to silvery shin guards and boots. They looked heavy.
I could feel the distant hum of aura wafting off of her. She wasn't some simple barkeep. She must be a member of Avalanche. And Avalanche must be a hunter organization or at least attempting to be one.
Neo shuffled up beside me and looked up at me. "Well Neo, what will you have?"
She shrugged as though to say, 'surprise me.'
"Hey now! What can I do for the two of you?" The bartender asked, she sounded upbeat.
"I'm Cloud, this is Neo, we're looking for Avalanche and a drink, I suppose. Two house specials. Whatever that is, while we wait would be nice."
She nodded. "I'm Jasper. We're just waiting for a few more. So that'll be two Cosmo Canyons. Coming right up." She sounded enthusiastic.
She poured two red drinks for Neo and I. I sat at one of the tables and Neo pulled up a chair beside me. Jasper came by and dropped the drinks off for us. I thanked her and opened up a tab. I could afford plenty of drinks so I really wasn't worried about it.
The drink had a sweet, deep strawberry and raspberry flavor. It was bordering on too sugary for me but Neo seemed to like it because she slammed it and held up a finger for another one.
I ordered for her and Jasper came around again with another glass of the red liquid.
There came a jingle at the door and another faunus came in. She was armed with a crossbow staff and had two cute little sheep ears to either side of her head. She wore mostly green under a more tan-green overcoat. She had curly glowing white hair and bright sharp green eyes.
She took us and Jasper by the counter in for a moment before she paced further inside.
I leaned both elbows on the table and rested my chin on my hands. I waited around to see what would happen with the newcomer.
"I'm looking for Avalanche," she said to Jasper. Loud enough that I could hear it.
"You've found us. You must be Fiona with the Happy Huntresses."
Fiona nodded.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Jasper asked.
Fiona shook her head. "I'm just here to listen to what you have to say about the General's secret project. We know the general is moving supplies out to Amity instead of Mantle. We're just not sure why. You're supposed to know."
Two more gentlemen entered and I watched them while taking a drink from my cosmo canyon. The first was taller than the other. Maybe about as tall as I was and had a sidearm. It looked like a water pistol to me. He wore a green shirt and brown pants and had a red bandanna tied around his head. It didn't hide his wolf ears.
The last was the rounder sort and he had a pale shirt and he too had a red bandanna. He was built with wide shoulders, however, despite his round build. He had a machine gun around his back and a bandolier of rounds across his chest. I couldn't spot his faunus trait if he had one but that didn't make him human. Blake had managed to hide her trait from me for months so there was that.
"Meet Avalanche," Jasper introduced with a bit of flair, waving a hand.
The taller fellow said, "I'm Bisque. And this is Wenge." He gestured to the man by his side.
"We need your help to hold the SDC accountable for its crimes," Jasper went on. "Avalanche is a sort of network for disparaged workers. Like the old White Fang in Mantle. We've been getting reports from workers about the General's project."
"You want us to help you fight the SDC," Fiona sounded incredulous. Her face twisted into shock.
"In exchange for our information, yes," Bisque shot back. "We've been getting all kinds of reports from our union about the project so we know what we're talking about with it."
"The Happy Huntresses aren't above trading blows with the law but this seems like a bit much. What would we even be doing?"
"Blowing up a dust mine." Jasper put a hand on one hip. "Both the Happy Huntresses and… you two, Cloud and Neapolitan." She pointed at Neo and I. "Came highly recommended. From different people, of course."
I could see it. Aurum had all the reason to recommend me considering how quickly I'd solved his problems. Unfortunately I wasn't behind blowing up a mine very much.
"If you want to resort to terrorism why not join the White Fang?" I asked. That was the sort of business the White Fang was into.
"Lots of reasons," Jasper shrugged. "The White Fang are about murder now. The mine we're targeting will be mostly abandoned. At least with the embargo going on."
"And this is the only way you'll talk about the General's secret project?" I asked. "A symbolic attack?"
"We also have Lien we can offer you," Bisque cut in.
Fiona snorted and I shook my head. "I don't need Lien," I muttered.
"The Happy Huntresses aren't about money. It's not why we do what we do," Fiona agreed with me a little.
"But you're about fighting the giants. The SDC. The Atlas Military," Wenge seemed to protest. His voice had a slight whine to it. "We could really use all the help we can get."
"The Happy Huntresses will find another way to learn about the General's plans," Fiona decided. She turned to leave. "I can only hope you are smart enough to say the same." She nodded at me.
"I probably can't let this opportunity pass me by. Thanks," I told her.
"You'll engage in this terrorism?" Her jaw dropped open.
"Sweetheart, I've murdered people in cold, cold blood. This is nothing. They're not even planning on killing anyone." I laughed. I pulled out my pipe and packed some greens into it. "Easy money," I said.
She glowered at me with a look that could have frozen vodka and turned her chin up. "You're laughing about it? People could die and you're just laughing." She swore at me.
I laughed even harder. "I'm a monster, babe. There are all kinds of people like me. You should get used to it. I thought you were a huntress."
"I graduated from Atlas Academy. Of course I'm a huntress." She pulled her staff on me. I stood up and activated my semblance. I ripped the weapon out of her hand and she stumbled towards me. I grabbed her and tossed her into the table behind me and Neo elegantly moved out of the way. She stumbled to her feet and I tossed her weapon to myself.
"There are things they don't teach you at school, kido. I can give you a lesson in it if you want."
She was just a kid. She had no idea what things were really like. She didn't know about monsters like Tyrian or Raven or me . I was a monster of power and ungodly strength, too. She didn't know the heights that some hunters could reach. She thought she was on the level. I could feel from my sixth sense that just wasn't the case. I could pull her apart.
The vitriol on her face was enough to shatter that frozen vodka from before. She tore her way back to her feet. The blatant disgust made me want to laugh some more. I tossed her her weapon back. She pointed her crossbow at me. It was loaded. I could cut the bolt easily. I was fast enough. Unless it moved near light speed like a laser or a magnetic accelerated round.
"I should stop you. The right thing to do would be to shut you down right here and now. Aggravating the SDC is the wrong move, almost always."
"Careful, little Miss. You're not a match for me and I've left quite the trail of bodies behind." Blue flames licked at my flesh. White wisps crawled at the ceiling of the bar, and the members of Avalanche held their collective breaths. The wood beams over my head shed my power like rainwater and it collapsed back into the room. "What's one more for someone like me?" I asked. “Come on. What’s one more?”
She spun her weapon about and replaced it on her back. She exhaled hard. She gave me one last stiff look. I could feel the room slightly disrupted by her aura. Her anger was a lashing flame. She wanted to stop me but was thinking better of it.
We'd sized each other up and I knew that she knew that I could destroy her. It was common knowledge now. Her sixth sense must have screamed out at her in warning.
"This isn't over." She pointed at the floor for emphasis with each word.
"This is nothing." I returned, sheathing my sword. "Not even my top fifty."
She marched out of the door of the bar. She slammed it shut behind her hard enough to rattle the windows of the small, dingy bar.
"Cloud…" Jasper murmured. "You'll help us?"
"I need the details. I also need a guarantee of my information. Then I'll help you with your bombing."
"It's the abandoned Tilvari mine. It's to the north of here. Used to be mined by SDC when it was more profitable to be mining. They'll want to go back to doing it there once the embargo is lifted," Bisque said. "We'll be hitting it at night when no one is around."
"We want to shut that down. Make it harder for old man Schnee," Jasper continued for him. "People die in his mines all the time and nothing happens. Nothing changes. People are dying in the mines right now. We want to cause him all the problems we can."
"I don't care about your reasons. Tell me about the job."
They all shared a look.
"You don't really mean that, do you Cloud?" Wenge asked. He seemed nervous, a little on edge about it.
"Of course I do. It's a job to me. And nothing else. I'll get you all in and out safe and sound. Then you can tell me about the General's project and we can move on with our lives." I claimed. "You don't want to be my friends. It's not a good place to be."
I didn't have the time for this. They needed to know where I stood. I wasn't their friend. I was their employee. That's how this was going to work. I didn't have time for it. They didn't need to be wrapped up in me, either. I was a mess and I didn't need to drag people who were more or less innocent into my fuck up of a life.
They were subcontracting me because I was dangerous and I knew what I was doing. I knew my way around explosives and I knew how to deal with dust, at least in a loose sense. I was exactly what they needed. As a contractor. Not as a companion for life. I already fucked up enough friendships. Just look at where I stood with team RWBY. The things I'd done to my own other friends rampaged through my thoughts.  
A low hiss of ' kill her, and the boy ' echoed through my mind. I would never forget it. The lamp had been right. Mother was more than just a memory. She haunted me.
I remembered what I'd done to the last of team JNPR. These people didn't know what they'd be getting into if they wanted to be my friends. And Neo and I weren't exactly friends. We worked well together, our goals aligned, our powers were useful in combination, but that was it. At least I thought so. I'd certainly miss her if she was gone, though. Maybe she was working her way into my heart.
The sadistic bitch. Unbelievably cruel of her, that was.
I relaxed and let my power go. My semblance faded into nothing. I missed the power as soon as it was gone. The steady beat of energy made me feel whole. Without it I felt a gaping lack. I wanted to keep that flow going. I wanted it all the time. And the charge felt completely empty now. I felt completely at a loss.
They all looked at one another again. Jasper nodded to Bisque and that seemed to do it for them.
"We have wheels to make our get-away on. And we want to drop the mine, not cause a massive explosion. Not in the middle of town. The point is to just cause a collapse in. It's a pit mine, you see." Bisque said.
"You'll need to be careful. Any application of dust could cause a chain reaction and blow up the entire mine. Take part of the city with it." I warned. I crossed one arm and put a hand on my chin as I considered it.
"The explosives we have in mind are small. Just big enough to bring down some of the support beams and cause a collapse." Jasper informed me.
Neo held up a hand.
"Another drink for my friend here?" I asked. Her glass was empty and she waved it at me loosley, tapping me in the side with it, gripping the glass from above.
Jasper nodded. She moved around behind the counter and shook up another glass of the crimson liquid. Neo liked that house special, I guess. She had a sweet tooth and a half which explained it.
"Then what's your extraction plan?" I asked once Jasper got Neo squared away again.
"We have a truck, we were going to drive away in the chaos," Wenge said.  "Do you think that will be enough?"
"With my help, sure. I've got quite the illusionist with me. You don't want to be caught up by Atlas Security. And the last thing we want to be snatched up in is a firefight."
"We can take them," Jasper said. She had enthusiasm for it, that was for sure. I imagined that Blake was once like that. But instead for the White Fang and not Avalanche.
Jasper was young. Maybe a year or so younger than my biological age, not my chronological age. She was much older than me going by that marker. She had a fire to her I couldn't help but admire. I even found it a few shades shy of attractive.
"You don't have the experience for it. You'll lose." I disagreed. "Better leave any fighting to Neo and I, if you can help it. Only fight if you're cornered and need to. Any of you ever kill somebody?"
They looked at each other and shook their heads.
"Yeah, leave it to me and Neo." I sighed. These kids had no idea what they were in for. If they weren't careful, they'd die. "And I'll set the charges. Better leave that to me too." I chewed on my pipe.
Amateurs.
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-WG
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darktenshikage6 · 4 years
Note
Futa Yang finds the Malachite twins out back of the club and demands a double blowjob. The twins agree as they don't want to fight the blonde anymore.
Miltia and Melanie were relaxing in one of the back rooms on the bed after having to kick some guy out for acting a fool. The sisters were just chatting when there was a knock at the door, Miltia gets up with a sigh and opens the door.
"Hey, this room is..." Miltia starts to say but her words trail off when she sees who's standing in front of her.
Yang Xiao Long.
"Heya! Now that I've found you two I can finally let off some steam." Yang said as she let herself in the room and locks it, she smiles at the twin as they glare at her.
"What do you want, Yang?" Miltia asked with an annoyed tone to her voice. Melanie nods in agreement as she was equally annoyed.
"Yeah, we're trying to relax here." Melanie said.
"Yeah, well I wanna blowjob.~" Yang said with a straight face. Both twins blush hard as Yang walks pass Miltia and sits on the bed next to Melanie. "I mean I can let off steam another way if you want..." Yang crackled her knuckle making the twins pale.
"No!" The twins say at the same time, they weren't about fight Yang again not after the last time.
Yang smirks and leans back on her arms and beckons Miltia to sit beside her, her shorts started to gain a rather thick bulge that the twin noticed immediately. "What can I say, You two are pretty hot.~"
Melanie blushes as she tries not to stare at Yang's throbbing dick while Miltia was glaring at it before grabbing Yang's shorts and yanking them down. Both girls let out a soft gasp as it flops up and smacks Yang's toned belly then slowly stands tall, it was smooth looking, thick, throbbing, and hard with a few noticeable veins and a pair of big balls hanging below.
"Oh my..." Melanie said as she covers her mouth and blushing as she glances at it up and down, she couldn't believe the size of it.
"H-How big are y-you?" Miltia stuttered as she gets hit with a bit of musk from Yang's throbbing cock. She bites her bottom lip as her core was starting to burn.
Yang smirks as she grabs he cock and gives it a few strokes. "Hmmm I'd say nine inches.~" She was enjoying the looks she was getting from them. "Well, I'm waiting girls.~" Yang stops stroking herself and laid back.
Miltia and Melanie share an annoyed look at Yang before sighing and deciding on just getting it over with. The faster they did this, the faster Yang could leave.
The twins nodded at each other and get to work, Miltia goes high and Melanie goes low. Miltia gives the head a smooch before sucking on the head getting a pleased hiss from Yang. Melanie gently strokes Yang's thick shaft and cups her heavy sack and massaging it, she gets hit hard by the heavy musk of Yang's dick and balls but wasn't repulsed by the smell. In fact it turned her on as she lets out a lustful moan as she polished Yang's balls off with her tongue.
Yang looks down as she covered her mouth to try to hide her moans, but it was difficult when you had two smoking hot babes pleasure you. She laid back and groans as Miltia takes more of her cock into her warm and wet mouth. Yang's breathing getting heavy when she felt Melanie's tongue swirling around her balls. "H-Holy shit girls..."
About thirty minutes go by with the twin pleasuring Yang so they pick up the pace, Miltia uses her tongue more and she bobs her head up and down then tries a few times to take Yang's fat cock down her throat but only getting half way and gagging on it. Melanie takes each ball into her mouth and sucks on them hard and lets go with loud pop before sucking on the whole sack too. The groans and moans Yang was making keep them going as they wanted her finish up and they soon got their wish.
"Ahh! Fuck...getting...close…." Yang said through her clenched teeth as she was trying not to cum yet but the twin were incredible, she would definitely have to bring one of her teammates back here!
Miltia and Melanie switch positions getting on their knees and looking up at Yang before licking up and down her shaft on the left and right side repeatedly. Both of them knew this would drive her crazy like other clients and didn't have to wait long as Yang's cock was twitching more and more then surprise her as they lick and suck all over the engorged cockhead getting a sharp and shaky hiss from Yang as she couldn't hold back anymore.
Yang lets out a guttural moan as she couldn't hold back any more, her cock throbbed twice before rope after rope of hot sticky cum shoots into the air, landing on the twin's faces then drizzles down her shaft."Fuck...that was- Gahhh!" Yang's words were cut short as she lays back and moans from the feeling of Miltia and Melanie's tongues cleaning the cum off of her softening cock but cleaned a little too well as Yang was rock hard again.
"You're hard again?" Miltia gives Yang a shock and annoyed look as Yang shrugs with a cocky grin.
"Hey, I'm not complaining! I did say you two were hot," Yang said as she sits up. "But I can think of another way to get rid of it~" She gives the twins a lustful gaze as Melanie and Miltia. They were blushing hard at what she was suggesting.
Soon the back room was full with screams and moans of pleasure from both twins for next few hours.~
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watchtheblog · 4 years
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petty cache
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thank you for coming to read my diary which masquerades as a blog but is actually just a vessel for disseminating my birthday wishlists. it’s like an event you show up to where the host tries to sell you a timeshare 25 minutes after some requisite, mindless song and dance.
welcome! if you’d like purchase a timeshare, scroll to the bottom. for the song and dance, look no further:
the other day i zoned out on zoom therapy and when my therapist asked where i “went” i had to lie because i had gone to the part of my brain that holds all the things i need to think about forever for no reason (i call it the petty cache — this is an umbrella term for the space that also houses my attitude cabinet) and dusted off a memory of a comment i saw on a stranger’s facebook three weeks ago that said “message me. i lost my password and i have good news to share”.
i don’t know either person, and that’s what i was thinking about. i spend $[redacted] a month on therapy and instead of focusing on one of my numerous unsolved mysteries, i was thinking about the nuances of this comment - like why they wouldn’t just share the news or message the person directly? or what losing their password had to do with anything? or why they would comment on facebook instead of texting or calling the person. did they not have their number? imagine not knowing someone well enough to have their phone number, but still wanting to share your good news with them!
all i want (for my birthday) is to know what the news is that this stranger has to share, and i’ll never know so i have to put that comment in my minutiae repository with all the other things that will plague me until i die from texting and driving, smoke inhalation as a result of purposely leaving a candle lit in my home overnight almost every night, consuming half a dozen hot dogs a week, or a now unnamed disease that will posthumously be attributed to my chronic inability to mind my own business.
i’m constantly concerning myself with things that are none of my concern - no matter how insignificant - because my brain is a commune of sentient pepperoni running instagram polls among themselves to discern if something is worth spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about. and guess what? it turns out absolutely everything that has ever offended, confused, bothered, intrigued, slightly inconvenienced, or merely happened to me is worth spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about.
because i devote so much energy to nonsense, i can often be found persecuting strangers for insulting me on the internet (and for other miscellaneous bad behavior). the information superhighway is my home so i have to protect myself (and my friends) here, and if that means spending 45 minutes to 48 hours trying to find every misstep you’ve made in your life until i have enough ammunition to spray a dozen simulated retaliatory bullets at your virtual head because you called me a “stupid bitch” on instagram, well… so be it!
i am relentless in my pursuit of wasting time, so if that doesn’t work, i will find the cold stone creamery you frequent, seek employment there, be hired on the spot, learn the craft, be promoted to manager, poison you on your birthday, gain access to your funeral, and tarnish your reputation by reading your shitty DM in front of the few family and friends whom i haven’t already made aware of the abhorrent way you conducted yourself online!
there are so many different ways strangers will try to hurt your feelings — an interesting genre of which come from men who (like me) have definitely never had sex before, and mistakenly think i care about the ways in which my body does not make them horny.
“no tits” one will say. and i’m like, how do you want me to respond to that? my boobs are indeed small, yes. did you come here to shoot facts back and forth all day? ok: you’re going to start balding way sooner than you’re prepared for, i bet your childhood dog is dead, your time on the internet should be supervised, your closet is full of vests, and you wait on line at nightclubs… good day?!
while i will obviously engage with anyone if they want to fight, i prefer when the unsolicited criticism is personalized, and not just thoughtless, lazily devised tripe.
a year and a half ago, a man who looked like he exhales smog DMed me to let me know - among other things in a paragraph long rant - he’d “lost brain cells” watching my story. knowing he had likely never had an adequate amount to begin with, it seemed like an emergency, so i started a group DM with his wife. because his message had come just three days after a “fuckkk [heart eye emoji]” response to a photo of my ass, i included a screenshot as evidence of his devolving mental state.
being - presumably - gainfully employed, neither of them responded.
luckily, the consolation prize for insulting me is that you gain residency in my brain and stay in my thoughts and prayers for all eternity, so i checked in on them a few days ago. they’d unfollowed and wiped their feeds clean of each other!!
because i’ve never “moved on” in my entire life, i fired up our long dormant group chat, and sent my condolences: “aw. sorry your trip to positano - where you were going to attempt to repair your ramshackle marriage - got cancelled because of covid and so you just got divorced instead :(” i wrote before being blocked by both of them. 
then i headed right over to my therapist’s facebook and commented “message me. i lost my password and i have good news to share”
i spent an entire therapy session detailing this monomania before my therapist thoughtfully suggested i “pick [my] battles”.
to which i thoughtfully responded: yeah, babe. i pick every single one.
                                                        ***
timeshare time! it’s the same list as this post, with a few additions (at top) (and edits based on availability).
places to donate food education fund pretty brown girl the okra project
some furniture stuff a side table  a pointless, laughably tiny little thing this website is calling a “drink table” a lamp one of these benches i do not want this but it’s important to me that at least 2 other people know it exists
this plant that obviously does not need to cost $165 but idk how to shop economically
air pods
gifts from the previous post - all still v much in play!
a pair of shoes (size 8 or 38) one pair, another pair, yet another, these are on sale, these are not, and a final pair
a specific clutch with three color choices they allege this color is called sand but it looks white to me, pink, green for those who do not know what malachite means (it couldn’t be me. i learned it 3 hours ago when i began compiling this cursed list)
something everyone with money to waste needs this
dresses i’ll never be able to wear until there’s a vaccine because unlike someone tacky who knows me, i won’t be having a birthday party in the middle of a global pandemic (hi, you fool) white polka dot, not white polka dot, also not polka dot, a red dress, a skirt (aka half a dress), a black dress
this sweatsuit xs in this, small in this
is sephora cancelled? i want this hair dryer which i’m sure you can buy elsewhere if sephora is cancelled, which it v well may be
this item which you may think is cheap but actually it’s not soooo a hairpin
earrings one pair, another pair, and another
this dress which i’ll never wear anywhere even when there is a vaccine because… what?! but maybe. you never know. size 34. lol when i get this far into the list i’m always blown away by how insane it is that i do this every year to no audience. so i’m just laughing alone at that. :) i am v funny to myself. another dress i’ll never wear ;)
the nicest weighted blanket you know of i’m depressed!!!!! if you can’t tell!!!!!!!
every year i have asked for a weekend bag and every year i have not received one, so alas, we try again this is not a weekend bag actually but it will do. this is!
a peloton but just venmo me the cash (@merce212) because i have a hookup
an assortment of ridiculous things a $500 body scarf a $580 beach towel with an octopus on it for no reason besides “art” i cannot tell analog time but it’s never too late to start!! how mad would you be if someone bought you a roulette table for your wrist? be honest. (THIS WATCH IS FOUR YEARS RENT!!!!!!) they won’t say how much this costs :( i’m losing my mind and must be gifted a chanel watch or else i will perish. to put my salami on when i am eating salami in my bed “24k gold crocodile [?!!) teddy bear”. the website says there’s only one left, which begs the question “why did someone buy one of these rather than buying me a chanel watch?!!” *real ‘billionaires shouldn’t exist [unless they’re buying me a watch]’ energy* to put my new watch in this is ugly but it’s on sale :) idk wtf “secret box pendant” means but i wish this necklace was also a USB with every season and spinoff of 90 day fiancé on it hi yes i’m stupid but i draw the line at $1500 connect four…
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thebettacult · 7 years
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These are the best pictures I can get of him. The black and blue is really starting to spread! I’ve decided to name him Malachi.
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magick-with-a-k · 5 years
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~Waya Spells~ Anti-Fertility & Period kickstart spell
Yeah, I know, this is gonna be controversial and I may lose followers. Oh well. Some people dont wanna be pregnant, ok? I see fertility spells all the time, but some people need the opposite and can't get medical help. Maybe magickal help will work. As always, I've tested the spell myself, and found that it works for me.
*use before sex and/or after sex (up to 48 hours before or afterwards) to keep from getting pregnant. This is not a fail safe and may or may not work for you. I absolutely recommend using it with another, nonmagickal form of birth control, like condoms or the pill. Maybe both. This spell is just an added precaution, and has always worked for me.
Materials:
• A seed from a toxic plant (I use Wisteria or cherry pits)
• Mortar and pestle or something to grind ingredients with
• Black salt (I make mine with crushed black tourmaline)
• White candle
• Malachite stone (optional)
Sit and meditate, draw a circle, prepare yourself however you do for the spell.
Repeat this as a mantra or chant until you are ready to start the spell, focusing on your womb being empty and your period starting.
"Now is not the time,
A child I will not bear.
The seed in me is cast aside
Now is not the time."
When you are ready to begin, light the white candle. Let it sit until there is a small puddle of wax. Then say:
"With candle white I purify
No child will grow inside."
(Drip wax onto stomach above where your uterus sits. You can also use an athame, popsicle stick, q-tip, etc to transfer the wax to yourself if you don't like touching hot wax. This also allows the wax to cool marginally before it is applied)
Now, grind up the seed and the black salt together in your mortar and pestle and chant:
"Toxic seed ground with black
My monthly time will come back"
(Grind the seed and the salt together, sprinkle/rub onto stomach above womb)
Place the malachite onto your stomach where your uterus would be, and chant until you feel like the words have taken effect:
"Toxic stone,
My womb is no home."
To close the spell, chant:
Until I am ready,
A child I cannot carry.
Tonight I am free
Dead is the seed inside of me.
Blow out the candle and clean up, the spell should work within three days.
As with all my spells, this is written by me, so please credit when you use it, and if you're comfortable with it, message me and tell me if/how it worked for you!
Blessed be, witchy babes!!! 💕
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