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blue-kyber · 6 months

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How quickly people can turn on one another when one of their own is attacked by another group, and that group wants a target to focus their emotions on. When the source of their pain is something they can't fight, they find an avatar to paint its face on, and take that anger out on them, then come up with lies to justify their brutality. They then believe their own lies in a heartbeat. That avatar, that scapegoat, is often an innocent person or group that has nothing to do with the originator of the attack group's pain.

All because they can't punch the face of what caused their pain in the first place into the ground and destroy it.

It wound up in my book as a topic we need to face. One we need to see the evil and futility in, and stop it in reality.

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Their beloved Princess Siffon Nirenthi Giniviette Kala, the Sunlight of Ilthall, and heir to the Kala dynasty, was dead. Murdered by a human. Fights between the two species - yondi and human - broke out among small groups who had no outlet upon which to direct their anger and grief. Lines of discord formed through glares, heated arguments, and aggression, even among those who were friends, and those who married into a yondi family. A handful of humans used that added betrayal to group up to protect each other and fight back. This fueled the accusation from the irrational yondi - and some aliens easily swayed by the loudest rage-filled idiots - that humans were less evolved pack animals. ‘Justice for the Princess!’ they shouted. The cry to avenge Siffon’s death by taking it out on the humans steadily gained traction to the point where those of other species stood up with the yondi and humans who could still think clearly. They defended the innocents of both species, with numerous people attempting to quell the fire of hatred before it could spread. The local security forces were called in to break up brawls all over town. By nightfall, small pockets of anti-human sentiment peppered both major cities of Cos Besta and Cos Arda. Most understood that the rioters were wrong, angry, and already looking for a reason to fight, and that they could do better. Leaders of various spiritual groups, and the magistrates of different sectors urged those starting the fights to consider the impact their actions had on the Light of Ilthall - a fragment of which all born on the planet had within them. The yondi had stopped warring among each other long ago due to how it hurt the planet and thus each other. They brought up the Hundred Year Isolation that occurred four thousand years ago, where the suffering became so bad that Ilthall cut off anyone fanning the flames of war as punishment. The loss of that connection among so many plunged their society into chaos. Those who retained their connection figured out how to use Ilthall's Light to protect themselves against the Isolated. It took a century for them to learn how integral that connection was to their well being. They reminded the rioters that the actions of those in the past are the reason Ilthall blinded the yondi people to the beauty of her Light. One day, she would return that sight to her children. They reminded them that those they attacked now were their friends, families, and neighbors, and to not judge a group by the actions of a few. They were all hurting. They should mourn together and be united. Not divided by hatred. But the angriest and loudest of the yondi didn’t care. They didn't believe in those stories, calling them fantasy tales to frighten children. Only those who had been offworld believed in that connection after having experienced it. Being away wasn't enough to hinder their lives, but it was enough for them to notice how much better they felt once they returned. The rest discounted it. All of them wanted a target. And all humans - native Ilthallans or not - were it. Fortunately, the majority of citizens were smart enough to not join in, but the damage was done. The humans - who made up about thirty percent of a populace of mostly yondi on the small, sparsely populated world - now lived in a state of heightened anxiety. The Alliance forces along with the local planetary law enforcement made it their priority to handle the instigators, and protect all innocents of all species caught up in their mire.

#writing #writeblr #original work #We use stories bring attention to real world issues. We always have. And we always will.#This scapegoat mindset found a place in my novel #when people have nowhere to focus their anger they will find something #completely unrelated and blame that #because it's something physical they can attack in the name of revenge.#The two species were coexisting perfectly fine before hand.

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notebooks-and-laptops · 2 years

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Welcome to my blog! Here you'll find OFMD brainrot (particularly Izzy/Ed/Stede) and Dragon Age ramblings.

For context, some of my Dragon Age OC’s. From right to left, top to bottom, we have:

Ellana Lavellan: the first Dalish Warrior to become an established Orlesian Champion and the last of the ElvenKind to drink from the Well of Sorrows. She and her lady love Josephine Montilyet, spend a few months a year with Clan Lavellan, a few months in Orlais and a few months in Antiva. (extra pics and info: x x x x)

Aiden Hawke: my canon Hawke, my beloved, my angry boi, my favourite. Full of rage, Aiden started ripping the world apart when his sister was taken to the circle. He fell in love with Anders because of the work Anders was doing for the mage underground, a course he violently believed in. He was very, very tragic and very, very angry and I loved him with my whole soul.

Merripen Lavellan: Merripen Lavellan was born a twin, and when his brother died from the plague, he devoted his life to Falon’Din, Elven God of Death and Fortune. Now, he lives a supposedly quiet life with The Iron Bull, although rumours abound about his close contact with his previous Spy Master and one Dorian Pavus, and what plans he may have for the future.

Mari Trevelyan: radical mage rights activist and co-founder of the ex-templar sanctuary with her husband Cullen Rutherford and their dog (extra pics and info: x x)

DeLila Cadash: my canon inquisitor, my beloved, my girl, my favourite. The youngest of six, a warrior and a closet nerd, DeLila found a family in the inquisition she never thought she'd have. She misses them all dearly, but loves running rooftops with her wife, infamous Red Jenny Sera (extra pics and info: x x x)

Endrin Cadash: my current Inquisitor! A leader, a treasure hunter, and a sometimes Religious figure, Endrin was raised to take over his branch of the Carta clan. It is rumoured that one of younger siblings was involved in the attacks on the Hawke siblings lives which led to the unleashing of Corypheus in the first place. He continues to lead the reformed inquisition now that the exalted council is finished, though he finds time to steal away to a private villa on the Tevinter Boarder that he calls his ‘holiday house’. Interestingly, one Magister Dorian Pavus also seems to take up residence their periodically.

Aban Adaar: my sweet, shy mage qunari who loves gardening and his wife Lady Josephine Montilyet (extra pics and info: x x x x)

Alexandria ‘Alex’ Hawke: my current Hawke! A soft, diplomatic girl who holds the world on her shoulders and always sees the good in those around her, Alex Hawke has a group of friends that would kill to keep her safe. She is immensely in love with her wife Merrill.

Rust Cadash-Rainier: whatever her original name was, it's been lost to time. Now she goes by Rust and is learning to cook eggs with her husband (who, rumour has it, may once have been a war criminal, if one can believe the kindly man who spends his free time making toys for children is the same Thom Rainier that Orlais tried to execute), and also fighting to put a stop to Solas's stupidity (fightings in her bones, she could never put down her daggers) (extra pics and info x x x)

Thank you to everyone who puts up with me talking about these idiots, and the many more I'm no doubt likely to create and talk about in the future - my asks are always open if you have any questions about any of them, from which songs I think fit them to their backstories to the choices they made in game x

Some links to other things you may be interested in (because tumblr only lets you pin one post at a time):

I run two discord groups: a Dragon Age one, and an OFMD SteddyHands centric One. Both are 18+. If you want a link to either, please message me and we'll sort something out. Both are v chill communities.

All my writing can be found here on Ao3 (mainly the Witcher and Dragon Age but hopefully some more OFMD soon)

My Mod Recs for each Dragon Age game can be found here (I’ll try and keep these vaguely updated too): Dragon age Origins, Dragon age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition

Some playlists (always happy to explain why I picked songs for any of these - feel free to leave an ask!): Izzy Hands, Break Up Era Ed AKA the Kraken, Edward Teach, Stede Bonnet, Stede/Ed, Izzy and Ed’s fucked up dynamic, Dragon Age 2, Anders, Merrill, Varric, Anders/Hawke, Fenris/Hawke, Hawke/Varric, Merrill/Isabela, Fenris/Anders, Sera/Inquisitor, Sera/Lavellan Break Up Playlist, Enjolras/Grantaire

My Solas Romance Review can be found here (one day when I have time I’ll review all the romances in Dragon Age but alas, not yet)

Some fic rec lists of other peoples fics! Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus , Geralt/Jaskier

The Dragon Age fic data I collected can be found here (Nov 2021): Dragon Age Origins, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition

#inquisitors #hawkes #pinned post

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piraytoro · 3 years

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Wait a Tanya au, Elle, you and Jess can’t just drop that and not talk about it. Super secret Cas runs away with Tanya au that lives only in my head does exist and my two beloved mutuals and me apparently share a hive mind

Hiiii Sarah!!! Hey @lobotomycastiel we have a co-conspirator! A lot of the following text comes directly or is paraphrased from a conversation in our discord, and @deanwithsmudgedlipstick actually came up with some of this too. Okay so in this au Nora has a tragic accident and Cas takes the baby so she doesn’t go into the system. It’s technically kidnapping but the foster system in the US is shit and she has no other living relatives, so it’s justified. Dean at first is like “wtf is that a baby” but he is VERY quickly swayed by way of: he watches Cas interact with Tanya for more than five seconds and folds like a house of cards.

Cut to three years later when baby Jack comes into the picture. (Of course this is a baby Jack au, it’s me and Jess.) Cas dies like in canon (aka temporarily) and Dean is left alone with not one but TWO children under the age of five, one of which the angels are trying to kidnap (unlike his and Cas’ own kidnapping, this one is NOT in the best interests of the child). They want him just like Hell wanted Sam all those years ago, to use him. The angels try to burn down the bunker so they can steal Jack. Dean has been having nightmares about Cas burning on the ceiling the way his mom did, and he wakes up from his dream where Cas is burning on the ceiling to find the bunker ACTUALLY on fire. At first he thinks he’s still dreaming, and then he considers that maybe he should just let this happen (he wants to be with Cas and doesn’t know about the empty yet), but then Sam is there dragging him out just like Dean dragged Sam out when it was Jess. He shakes Sam off and runs to the bassinet, shoved Jack into Tanya’s little arms and tells her to run as fast as she can. Meanwhile he runs to Cas’ room and scrambles to find the mixtape and the trench coat, the only things he has to remember him by.

Sam scoops up Tanya, who’s holding Jack, to shelter them from the smoke and the heat and Dean’s breakdown, the way no one was there to shelter him and Dean. This gives Dean a chance to grieve and a moment to just break down. Afterward, Dean realizes he forgot something. He sifts through the burned down house trying to find Cas’ ashes. He clutches the cracked, scorched urn, making sure the ashes are still safe inside, and from Sam’s arms Tanya watches Dean on his hands and knees, weeping for all that he’s lost. Two minutes later, Dean gets up and turns to them with an easy smile on his face and says it’s time to get going, and he hopes they like clown motels. All his Cas Emotions have been shoved into a box and shut away tight. Sam asks why they can’t go to a *nice* hotel, and Dean makes fun of him for being afraid of clowns. But Sam has to drive the Impala because Dean’s hands are still shaking, and the only way to still them is to hold onto both the kids as he cradles them close in the backseat.

At the funeral, Dean passes Jack to Tanya when he goes to light the pyre. When he steps away, he takes Jack back and holds Tanya’s hand so they won’t feel alone. Later, Tanya tries to heat up a bottle for Jack but he takes over and tells her “go watch tv kiddo, I got this.” The next night he gets up to quiet a fussy Jack and finds Tanya already there, singing to him. He scoops her up and sings to both of them. After that he sits her down and explains that it’s not her job to take care of Jack, it’s his job to take care of them both. He plays them the mixtape and tells them he made of for their dad. He also lets them pick the music in the car. He watches Tanya singing along in the rear view mirror, the windows down, doing that thing kids do where she tries to catch the wind in her tiny hand while Jack laughs in his car seat. She’s a kid and doesn’t know about driver pick the music yet, so he lets Tonya listen to every Hannah Montana album and five hundred consecutive plays of Baby Shark because they’re her favorites. When Sam complains about how he can’t play his indie music, Dean pulls the classic, “how old are you?” “I’m 35, what does that have to do—“ “and how old is Tanya,” Dean interrupts. “Like, four?” Tanya interrupts, offended, to say “I’m four and a HALF.” Dean gives Sam a *you see?* look and says “so who’s gotta be the mature one here?” He’s the older sibling now, and Jack and Tanya are babies who deserve to listen to shitty kids’ music because Dean loves them and they’re his kids. Claire rolls her eyes from the backseat, squished between two carseats, but she doesn’t argue with the choice of music. Baby Shark makes her want to gouge her eyes out, but she secretly kind of likes Hannah Montana.

Dean takes them to the meadow to help scatter Cas’ ashes. Claire supervises while Tanya and Jack play in the brook, and over by the windmill Dean opens the urn. He makes sure the ashes cover as much ground as possible, wanting to feel Cas everywhere in that field. He takes the kids there often, and he knows it’s silly, but he thinks Cas would appreciate watching his kids grow up. Claire comes sometimes, but she’s not there this time. Dean puts Tanya on his shoulders, with Jack in a wrap in his chest, and Tanya reaches down to pat Jack on the head when he starts to get fussy. Tanya tries to reach up high enough to tough the windmill, and Dean fixes Jack’s hat to protect him from the sun, and Dean looks up at the sky and prays that Cas can see them somehow.

#dean winchester #castiel #baby!jack #jack kline #claire novak #tanya spn #spn #supernatural #replies #sickandtiredofyourshit #baby jack truthing #sam winchester #dean winchester is mom-coded #fic #kind of?#meadowposting #deancas

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im-the-punk-who · 3 years

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20 Questions - Writer’s Edition

Tagged by @myrmidryad <3 <3 <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

40, which seems...low. lmao. but mostly because i never end up posting things i write LMAO

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

96,197! which....is hilarious considering one of my eternal WIPS also jut hit 90k last week woops.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

On AO3:

Black Sails (20)

Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) (11)

Captain America (Movies) (5)

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (2)

Kingdom Hearts (Video Games) (1)

The Umbrella Academy (TV) (1)

Marvel Cinematic Universe (1)

On ff.net/LJ i had more Harry Potter stuff and i know there is still some Zim fanfic on my DA....

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Memories, Like Water, Can Be Tainted or Distilled; Sometimes Will Evaporate

is unfortunately always going to be first because it was written at the height of Stucky fandom and you just don’t recover from those sort of numbers xD

The Trouble With Jersey (Working title) - same deal. CapFam/Stucky fic at the height of CapFandom whoops

Between Breath and Love, I Choose Him - Okay I’m actually pretty happy this is number three because Black Sails fans are sluts and I love that journey for them <3 Also choking kink my beloved. <3

The Corner Booth - Drarry fic (antagonistic). what else is there to say.

Play, Boys - oh, abandoned WIP, my beloved. You deserved better but alas the hyperfixation wants what she wants.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Ohhhhh god i don’t know. I know the angstiest ending I ever *planned* was for I Couldn't Get The Boy To Kill Me but I never posted the rest of that. Hmm, otherwise maybe the On Purpose series, which is a Black Sails post London series about Miranda and James so like. Angst angst angst angst.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Bold of you to assume I’ve written an ending to any of my fics. Okay well, Tying Rockets To Shoe Strings is going to have a happy ending if it kills me. Most of my one shots end ...fairly happily....? I think....?

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I don’t only because if I don’t hyperfixate on something the brain simply Turns Off.

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA almost exclusively. BUT I am very very into kink smut and D/s, A/B/O fic(although I don’t think I’ve ever posted any...) ot so much into the more vanilla smut - most of my explicit fics will have some level of light kink even if it’s just a little bit of choking play or like. Brat Michael.

9. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Oh god. You know how you go ‘I will do this when the Brain Returns From War’ ? Yeah. I do try to respond to comments but I’m....so bad at it. If I didn’t respond to your comment it’s not because I don’t appreciate it, it is that The Brain Turned That Function Off.

10. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

You know what I actually don’t think so which is weird but maybe I’m just not popular enough to receive that kind of attention. xD Although I have gotten plenty of hate on meta I’ve written so maybe that balances it out?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

God Bless if I have.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope <3

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I had co-written or started co-writing a couple things but they never got published for one reason or another. I would really love to, though!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship to write for?

I don’t think i could ever pick a favorite but honestly Axel/Roxas will always get me. But Malex is right now the favorite child.

15. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Did You Mean, All Of Them? I am notoriously so bad at long fics that I feel like this is All Of Them but the one I absolutely know I will never finish is Play, Boys (Umbrella Academy) and I Couldn't Get The Boy To Kill Me (Captain America)

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, I think? Also I think I’m pretty good at writing smut.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Finishing my goddamn fics, honestly. I also tend to be not great at keeping a consistent verb tense and...if I let myself go on an internal character monologue I *will* ramble for one thousand words without any physical indicators.

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I LOVE it, i love it i love it i love it, although same as Gin, because I’m not *reaaaally* fluent in anything but french and english i haven’t written much actual dialogue. Although in Doubting Thomas I play around with how the language barrier affects the communication and such by using other indicators other than typing out hte dialogue, which has been a really fun process. (Although none of that part is posted because.....see ‘weaknesses’ LMAO

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Neopets. I said what I said. (actually it was probably Sailor Moon or Tamora Pierce’s Protector of the Small series.)

20. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

God okay listen I love all my children equally but honestly Doubting Thomas and Tying Rockets To Shoe Strings, the parts i’m working on right now are just REALLY GOOD okay i know i’m never probably going to post them but they’re SO GOOD. Posted, I am actually REALLY please with how Sound Garden turned out, and Sometimes A Family and Into The Blinding Sun both just HIT that found family vibe that sets me off. Special shoutout to Hand In Unloveable Hand and Some Boys Do for being my own personal comfort fics <3

UHHH TAGGING???? YOU WANT ME TO TAG???? PEOPLE???? lmao @queer-crusader, @angrycowboy, @ladynox, @bydayornight, UHHHHH literally anyone in the black sails discord please i know none of your tumblr handles but I know you’re all fantastic writers. @haloud IDK EVERYONE?????

#about the author #tag memes #about milo #milo writes #IDK yall im an aries i cant finish anything that takes more than a week to write sorryyyyyy lmao

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dvrkprinces · 4 years

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&&. ( luca d'amore ) was just spotted in amsterdam. rumor has it ( he ) is a ( 519 / physically 35 ) year old ( fallen angel ) who resembles ( henry cavill ). ( he ) has been said to be ( confident & protective ) but also quite ( hot-headed & promiscuous ). with all the chaos surrounding the magical underworld, he has chosen to align with ( the fallen angels ). ( he ) is currently serving as ( co-leader of the fallen angels / co-owner of the inferno club ). hopefully the city doesn’t devour them whole.

— ❝ sex is about power.❞

( hi there, kiwi here! this is the official intro for my cocky, self-indulgent asshole, luca d’amore. he’s a character close to my heart, and i’m particularly excited to see him come to life as a fallen angel. needless to say, i want all of the connections for him! please let me know if you’d like to plot; i’m available through both the group’s discord and tumblr ims. ♡ )

name: luca nicola d’amore

birthplace: florence, italy

birthday: september 12th | virgo

scents: mint oil, italian lemon, green apple, geranium flower, amber, vanilla, vetiver, moss, cedarwood, spices + ( signature cologne: eros - versace )

appearance: 6′3″ with a strong, muscular build honed from centuries of priming his body for power, battle, and sex. luca has spent much of his immortality physically and mentally pushing himself to impossible limits in order to be the best of the best, and as such, his physique is a strong reflection of that. luca has dark brown hair with a tendency to grow wavy and curly if not properly cared for. he can go with or without a beard, but prefers to keep one nice and groomed for personal preference.

luca is definitely a fan of finely-tailored suits and expensive, designer clothing; as he now lives a lavish lifestyle, he likes to make sure his appearance reflects as much. after growing up poor and in an entirely different era, luca is a self-made member of the fallen who enjoys splurging on himself.

personality: ( + ) intelligent, protective, crafty, disciplined, serious, ambitious ( - ) emotionally distant, possessive, distrusting, stern, cunning

biography: luca was born in the great city of florence, italy, at the turn of the sixteenth century; his mother, arabella, was an angel of light who began an affair with a poor human man by the name of adriano. she was the daughter of a great archangel war general, and he a humble artist who hoped to study under some of the burgeoning greats of the italian renaissance. they fell passionately in love, to the point where his angelic mother gave up her immortality to be with the mortal man she loved upon discovering she was carrying his child. unfortunately, this resulted in a painful and difficult childbirth--one she did not manage to live through. overwhelmed with grief and misplaced hatred towards his son for “causing” the death of his beloved, luca’s father cast him out and abandoned the boy to the streets, claiming hardship as he pressed his small, bright-eyed boy into hands of the local workhouse that hid supernatural children. they glamoured his wings, which were a soft grey rather than white, and disguised him as a normal child milling about italia.

after that, the streets raised luca.

tossed around through workhouses, foster homes, and apprenticeships to afford room and board for much of his young life, luca had to learn how to take care of himself. it was through the negligence of adults surrounding him that luca grew reckless and selfish; he was crafty and intelligent, innovative and careless. he took what he wanted when he wanted it, causing friction and tension with those who took him in over the years. luca cared very little for his schooling and apprenticeships, wishing instead to use his insight and intelligence to apply directly to life itself. he became involved with local street gangs and crews around the bustling italian city, hearing murmurs of the world beyond florence--of supernatural creatures who hunted humans in the dead of night and whispered in the shadows. and sometimes, when luca would glance at himself in a puddle or a passing mirror, he could still see the shadowy reflection of his wings protruding from his backside.

his heart had grown stony and cold, and as he grew older and the angels of light continually refused to claim him as one of their own, luca felt rage.

deciding that he was tired of waiting for the world to want him, luca d’amore decided he would make people need him. he shed the soft grey down of his wings in replacement of large, black wings, a physical trait that manifested when he became a young man and decided that paradise had no space for him, but he could reign in hell all the while. luca ripped apart the world of florence as he knew it, gathering the strength of fellow angels and supernaturals who had been in hiding in the mortal world and claiming what he felt was rightfully owed to him. along the way, he met and teamed up with raphael crossborne, an angel of light whose desires had manifested into something just as dark and sinister as his own...and together, the two of them fell and created a kingdom for themselves.

though he was a halfling, luca made up for the impurity of his human side by being ruthless, shameless, and depraved; he clawed, pushed, shoved, and scraped his way up the ranks, demanding a place of authority and respect over his peers. now, five hundred years later, he maintains one of the co-leaders of the fallen angels and an owner of the inferno burlesque and bdsm club. clients from every walk of life can enter and drench themselves in debauchery and sin, sometimes at the price of striking a bargain with luca, raphael, or any of the other high-ranking fallen angels traipsing about the establishment.

luca is a man who takes what he wants with an iron fist; he chooses to emotionally distance himself, having never grown up in a nurturing environment or with positive role models or family, and as such, projects himself through sex. namely, through that of his full-time submissive, little angel baby doefoot. a dancer at his club and the younger sister of his co-partner raphael, luca and baby maintain a secret, sordid relationship with each other. it’s likely raphael would try and rip luca in half if he knew the scandalous things he got up to with his baby sister, but, well...old habits die hard, and luca continues to do whatever he wants to whoever he wants. though he has no idea of baby’s genuine feelings for him, she has become his go to in several facets, from raking in extra cash at the burlesque club to being the most dependable and loyal of his staff. he values her, even if he doesn’t fully understand in what capacity.

wanted connections: i’m open to hear whatever you have to throw at me! i’d love some frenemies, friends, childhood rivals, business partners, mortal enemies, etc. !!

#LUCA //#wings and shadows: ( intro )#abandonment tw #trauma tw #nhqintro

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dellebecque · 5 years

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Looking for RP--Aden Dellebecque

In-game: Aden Dellebecque Alias: Aden Aubeaux Race: Miqo’te Seeker of the Sun (X tribe/C tribe) Profession: dragoon, scout/surveyor, hunter

History

Of the Sky

They came many generations ago, sisters and cousins, and the Tias and Keeper men they had met along the way, or if not the men then heavy with the children the wandering men had left them with. Desperate to break out of their tribal life, full of youthful rage against their lot in life as mothers and hunters and little else, they struck out to find a new way. And find it they did--nothing could be more different than Ishgard. They set about learning a new way, building a new life, one with dreams of comfort and riches rather than long hunts and far horizons, and even taking on new names: the Aubeaux family, one branch called themselves. In their children’s children no tribal outcast lingered: patriots born, through and through, and obsessed with the social climb as many of low status in Ishgard must become. And one cage was fully traded for another.

Yet you may take the miqo’te out of the tribe, but you cannot beat the tribe out of him. Daughters were raised in grace and manners, to catch eyes with their tamed exoticism and curry favor with silver tongues. Sons had too much wandering blood, too much of the drive to fight for supremacy--which made them perfect candidates to go to war, to seek glory or knighthood in deed. Sons die young in the Aubeaux family, ground up in the bloody crucible of endless war, and daughters inherit the legacy.

And Aden’s father might have too, if not for a wandering woman of the C tribe, a thief and ne’er-do-well who had been a mercenary for many years before finding employ on some secret errand in Ishgard. What became of her remains a mystery, but her lover raised their son alone for a few years until he sent him away and disappeared himself.

Serenity

When someone delivered a young child to Nadine Dellebecque and Arild Brewster's farm in the Black Shroud, they knew the worst had befallen a dear friend from their mercenary days. Aden, a letter said his name was, and they took him in and raised him as their own.

Aden had a good life with his adoptive mothers, growing up safe and loved. But he paid too much mind to tales of their time as adventurers, and to Arild's beloved travelogues. He took a little too keenly to Nadine's self defense lessons. He remembered the gleam of his father's lance, even if he insisted he didn’t--he’d seen their disapproving looks when they caught him jumping from the hayloft with a pitchfork, and abandonment had made a naturally quiet, thoughtful child reticent.

But Aden hadn’t forgotten. He grew up obsessed, asking at every opportunity when his mothers might let him join the lancers guild--because this was all that was left to him. In pursuing the spear he could be with the father who had sent him away, in spirit if nothing else. Finally he proved a danger to himself if they denied him any longer, and Aden went to Gridania to pursue his heart’s desire.

From the Sky

In his time with the lancers guild Aden caught the eye of a semi-retired dragoon, Flynt Knoltross, who saw in him a shadow of his younger self and perhaps a chance to make things right. He saw too a familiar face, finally putting truth to the secret Aden had carried for years--his father had been a dragoon, though he had disappeared before Flynt knew him well. Aden pursued his training at a punishing pace, obsession merely growing when the lance offered him a sense of purpose and belonging, a more tangible connection to the place of his birth. Despite the prejudices of his countrymen Aden meant to prove his worth in the spear, never realizing he was repeating the cruel cycle his father had sent him away to break.

Prove himself he did during the end of the war--but politics forestalled his advancement proper to the ranks of the Knights Dragoon the day of. He has instead been classified as a reservist, and done everything from scouting and surveying in dangerous territory, to diplomacy and leading reconnaissance teams during the Alliance offensive in Gyr Abania.

Hooks

Must Love Chocobos

Aden grew up on a chocobo farm, and as such he’s an experienced rider and an expert in caring for them. He loves chocobos, especially his rather possessive and ornery destrier, Keva. He occasionally returns to the farm to help his mothers as they’re getting on in years, and can be found there at times. Whenever Keva is stabled somewhere that the grooms don’t already know him, Aden takes care of Keva himself, and it’s another situation that might be easy to encounter him in.

Knives and Lanterns

Aden is a member of the Wandering Tonberry hunt lodge, and when he’s not busy with his duties to Ishgard he’s often taking care of hunts for them or doing other work that needs doing. He can be found in and around the lodge, or out in the field on hunts. They’re his found family, and he’s very loyal.

Bookworm

Aden is well-read and consumes books at a rapid pace around the rest of his activities. The only time he slows down is when he’s in a bookshop or a library, and he’ll easily lose track of time.

The Wanderer

Aden has wanderlust deep in his soul thanks to Arild’s travelogues, especially after an eye-opening moment on the Azim Steppe. If there’s somewhere strange or wild to explore, he’ll be there.

For the Sky

Aden spends most of his time in service to Ishgard, and those who interact with military elements--particularly with dragoons, military intelligence, or certain sorts of politicians--might have a reason to know him. Being a miqo’te makes him an excellent scout in locations where someone being visibly Ishgardian might be a problem, but it also leaves him open to the prejudices of his countrymen and makes deploying him on any mission of high visibility a political act. Those who have benefited from his service have set events in motion that will soon lead to his promotion into the position and title he should have had for years now, and potentially something truly far-flung and dangerous For the Sky….

But for now he remains a dragoon in everything but name, and on familiar shores.

OOC

Playtime: Weekday evenings and weekend days, schedule RP ahead of time (I don’t do walkup unless I’m at an event). Eastern US time.

FC: Wandering Tonberry Trading Co.

Server: Balmung

Looking for: Friends, adventuring partners, fellow Ishgardians, chocobo fanciers, nerds, travelers, rivals, and enemies.

Tips: Aden is quiet, reserved, and usually very polite. He’s awkward, anxious, and has trouble speaking to strangers (unless he’s working--but how he got that way is a story all its own). Persistence pays off, though what lies beneath is not entirely like what you see on the surface--Aden is driven, passionate, and full of a long-held, slow-burning anger. He’s philosophical and intellectual but a violent adrenaline junkie at the same time. He’s spent a lot of time living inside his own head, observing the outside world and thinking, and a lot of time with his head shoved in a book or alone in the wilderness. He has abandonment issues and struggles with depression and social anxiety. Rather than a fanatic or obedient loyalist, Aden is a warrior-philosopher. He’ll follow orders, sometimes without question, but he’ll seriously challenge his superiors when it’s appropriate to do so. He has a reputation for thinking too much, but still getting the job done. Slice of life isn’t really my thing unless the character is already established as a friend or ally of Aden’s, in which case, sure! I am deeply uninterested in quick romance or uncomplicated relationships. If reading over all of this calls to you in that regard rather than as a friend, contact, or rival, we can talk, but be warned that I have an extremely low tolerance level for bullshit, and Aden is a complicated person who is not here to play house, and will not tolerate someone who cannot keep up with him in the field--whether that be by force of arms or force of aether is irrelevant. He’s grey-ace and homosexual/homoromantic. However, people who are down to get punched in the face for making an advance are always welcome--it could be the start of a beautiful friendship! I’m also very busy IRL, hence being forced to schedule RP in advance. I have a full time job that sometimes requires overtime, a loving partner I’ve been with for 15 years, a house to take care of, two D&D games, part-time work on a friend’s farm, a HUGE extended family, and am an avid outdoorsman. There’s a lot to squeeze in there! If we start RPing, please be patient with me. I will do out of game RP on a rare case by case basis. It used to be my bread and butter, but I’ve discovered as I get busier I’m too unreliable and forcing more realistic expectations on myself as a result.

Contact: Aden Dellebecque or Merrick Lockwood in game; Stormcalled#5187 on discord; or my ask box!

#FFXIV RP #FFXIV #Balmung RP #miqo'te #seeker of the sun #ishgardian #Aden Dellebecque #long post is long

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shipmistress9 · 5 years

Text

FTLOAP - 40.5: Interlude 5: The Ride

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net - AO3 -

Discord-server for discussions and questions

Part 1: Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11;

Part 2: Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1; Chapter 33

Part 3: Chapter 34; Chapter 35; Chapter 36; Interlude 4; Chapter 37; Chapter 38; Chapter 39; Chapter 40

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: Ah, yes, this is why I don't like posting too long chapters... Judging by the reactions, the points that were important to me seemed to have drowned in everything else. Ah, well... Splitting the previous chapter and drawing it out longer wouldn't have been a good choice either, so I'll have to live with this now.

This week, the summer holidays started here. That means that I will have even less time to write, but I'll try to stick to the schedule nonetheless. I can't make any promises though, especially with me and my family going on vacation in the week before the next planned update. All I can promise is that I will try.

But! Chapter 41 is one of the most important chapters of this entire story to me and I want to get it right! Meaning, I won't update in two weeks if it's not in a state I'm satisfied with. Sorry.

. o O o .

With a tired sigh, King Osmond of House Hofferson, ruler of the United Kingdom of Volantis, took a moment to rest his head in his hands. Sometimes he wondered just how much time exactly he spent in this room, sitting at his desk and brooding over reports, lists, and requests. But then, did it matter? Someone had to do this and as King it was his duty to make decisions. And if he made the wrong decision, or even let anyone else make these decisions, thousands could and would suffer. No, it was his responsibility to make sure the right decisions were made – or at the very least the ones that offered the minimum amount of harm…

However, it looked as if his recent decisions were paying off positively. Going through the reports of the last two weeks helped bring a grim smile of satisfaction to his face. He still wasn’t happy with the solution he and his friends had settled upon some months ago, but he couldn’t deny that it was working. Before they’d begun these festivities, he’d compiled a single list of the men they knew were in the conspiracy, and another list of those they reasonably suspected of being in it by association and personal reputations. Those two lists had composed the core of the guest list. And now he was crossing off names from both. Nearly two dozen dead so far, and nearly all of them were on one of the two lists. From what it looked like, the greedy agitators were even murdering each other for their chance at the prize, presumably getting rid of their most dangerous competitors first, and making the upcoming work of the King’s Guard that much easier. Indeed, aside from the incident with the boar, where his huntsman had deliberately set a group of the known traitors after a boar – when they had only been prepared for hunting deer – every other death had come from their fellow men.

The next report listed the injured and the maimed. Here, the divide between the innocent and the guilty wasn’t quite as favourable, but he knew the patients would get the best possible care, which was all he could do for them. Injuries were a common risk, after all.

Yes, as much as he detested having to use this approach to get rid of the traitors, he had to admit that it was working out splendidly. The highest priority target, Duke Thuggory, might still be alive – and had, annoyingly, been the one to finish off the boar – but there was plenty of time to remedy that fact.

He put the list aside, took a sip of his wine, and reached for the next report. It was the account of the guards that had been sent out to look for the missing tax collector. Neither the man nor his coach had been found by now, so the question remained whether he’d been attacked or had gone into hiding himself. Osmond’s gut told him that it was likely the former, as the man had been loyal for many years now, but that wasn’t why this report made him grimace. This incident wasn’t directly related to the current events at the castle, but... The money and goods this specific man had gathered had been meant to pay for Astrid’s wedding, both for the celebrations and also her dowry. And while the castle’s treasury was filled well enough to compensate the loss, this report only reminded him of what he tried not to think about too often – that this entire charade was being paid at the expense of his beloved daughter.

Osmond leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face, but then stood up and, almost without thinking, walked over to a large painting that hung in the more comfortable corner of his office. With tired eyes, he looked up into the face of his beloved Brenna; it was so similar to Astrid’s that he sometimes, when she entered a room or they met in the corridors, thought it was her.

“I wonder what you would have to say if you were here, my love,” he murmured, reaching out to let his fingers glide along the gilded frame. “I assume you’d scold me for using our daughter as bait, especially after the price you paid for her life. But that’s the lot of the royal family, isn’t it? To make sacrifices for the good of the people. And from what it looks like, she’s going to marry Eret’s son; that isn’t too bad, right? Not what you and your best friend had hoped for, not her marrying her son but only her nephew. But given the circumstances, this is the best option for her. I just wish I could already tell her why all this is necessary, but I promise that I will do so eventually. I hope she may forgive me one day, and… and I hope you can, too.”

But, of course, he got no answer. Brenna just kept gazing down at him with those beautiful deep blue eyes and that slightly cheeky smile of hers. Gods, how much he missed her...

For a little while longer, he stayed where he was, gazing up at the painting, before he returned to his desk. He knew that Astrid wasn’t thrilled about any of this, but at least she seemed to be better now that she’d apparently made her choice. All he could do now was hope that, over time, the close friendship she and young Eret shared would turn into more; that was why he’d instructed to grant her more time with him and Oswald’s boy during the weeks before her birthday, after all.

Although… given how much pain love had brought him, he wasn’t so sure whether that was really something to wish for. Losing Brenna, the love of his life, had nearly killed him too. It had certainly maimed his heart for many years. Only reluctantly, he’d agreed to marry again ten years later, and it had taken three more years to overcome his aversion against the woman his advisors had picked for him. And just when his heart had started to love again, she’d been taken from him, too. Logically, he knew that the bad days were only bearable because he could remember the happy ones… but he also hoped that none of his children would ever have to suffer the pain of burying their loved ones way too early.

. o O o .

“Ah, there’s nothing quite like a good ride through the countryside, don’t you agree?”

Osmond glanced at his friend Eret II from the corner of his eye, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I do. But you do remember that not everyone feels the same way, yes? There’s no need to tease Oswald tonight for not wanting to come along.”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” Eret pouted.

From the side, Spitelout approached them on his white stallion. Out of the four of them, he was the only one not riding one of the Jag’r horses, as he’d never had the patience to learn how to deal with one of the demanding beasts. “No, really, Eret. You shouldn’t tease Ozzie; he gets enough riding of another sort, after all. Grapevine has it that he and his mistress are expecting again.”

“Oh, is that so?” Eret laughed. “You really do have your spies everywhere, don’t you?”

Spitelout shrugged with a wide grin. “I like to be well-informed.”

Osmond joined in into the laughter that followed, though only half-heartedly. His eyes had fallen on someone dressed in a wide flowing dress of blue and turquoise, and after a murmured excuse to his friends, he led his horse to her side.

“Good morning, Astrid,” he greeted her, smiling warmly, but just as he’d feared and expected, she barely even looked at him in return.

“Good morning, Sire,” she replied obediently, making a perfect bow on the back of her broad gelding.

Her formal address pained him, but he didn’t let anything show. He was aware of her current opinion of him, and as much as he’d liked to explain and maybe redeem himself in her eyes – he knew that this wasn’t the time, not yet. Maybe it would come one day – when the traitors were dealt with and secrecy wasn’t as crucial anymore – but for now, it was better she focused all her anger on him. It hopefully meant that her heart was otherwise free to find warmth and comfort in young Eret’s arms.

“I hope this ride is to your liking,” he tried nonetheless. “I know how fond you are of riding, so I hope this is a welcome diversion to the latest events for you.” The necessary hunts and tournaments might be supposedly to her honour, but Osmond was no fool. He knew his daughter well enough to know that she wasn’t enjoying those, which was why he’d done everything in his power to follow young Eret’s suggestions and squeeze in this ride between the other planned events.

Astrid, however, merely shrugged. “I’ll try to enjoy it if that is your wish. With this saddle, this company, and the expected pace, I can’t make any promises though.”

With these words, she directed her gaze to the side to where now the last members of the party, young Eret and his squire, Stoick’s boy, came to join them. Her turning away without a word in public was borderline discourteous – he hadn’t dismissed her, after all – but she hadn’t turned her back on him. So, Osmond didn’t reprimand her. He wanted her to focus on the newcomer, after all.

Instead, he simply gave the signal for the group to get started. He rode at the front, with Astrid at his side and a few guards loosely around them, but soon the formation shifted and changed and he could only watch her from a bit of a distance as he made way for the young men around them to talk to her. For a short while, young Eret rode next to her and it was obvious how much more relaxed she was around him. But soon, voices got louder that demanded their share of the Princess’s time as well, and so her attention was taken up by the ever-changing and increasingly desperate conversational partners.

“They haven’t given up just yet, eh?” Eret II muttered as he rode next to Osmund and shook his head.

Spitelout snorted. “Of course, they haven’t. Many of them came a long way to court her, and so far, nothing is official. I doubt even tonight’s ball will change that.”

They all watched as young Snotlout took his place at Astrid’s side next and it didn’t escape anyone’s notice how she pursed her lips at that. Osmond threw Spitelout an inquisitive look, interested in how his friend would react to the obvious rejection, but either he didn’t care much or he was way better at hiding his opinion than he’d thought. There was no reaction in his friend’s face whatsoever, so Osmond just shrugged and for a while, they rode on without much in terms of conversation. It really was a lovely day, and spending it outside with a leisure activity like peacefully riding along the shore of Lake Vola instead of brooding over even more reports was a great diversion.

“Oh, I can’t believe it!” Eret exclaimed after what had to be nearly two hours into their ride. Soon, they would take a break to eat the picnic the servants riding with them had brought along before they would return to the castle.

Curious about what agitated his friend so much, Osmond followed his eyes to the young man who now approached Astrid – and gritted his teeth. Duke Thuggory of Meathead. If he could, Osmond would have forbidden him to come close to his daughter. But he had no legitimate reason to do so, nothing but assumptions, suspicions, and secret information. No, all he could do was watch and silently apologise to Astrid for making her endure this.

But apparently, his friend’s agitation had another reason.

“I wonder how that piece of filth got his hands on one of our horses,” Eret hissed. “Because he certainly didn’t get it directly from us. I’d rather take a good stallion back to our farms again before I hand him over to someone who wouldn’t treat him right. But with his influence, it probably wasn’t difficult for him to find a middleman. Odin, I wish I could demand the poor beast back from him. See? He can’t even control him right!”

Osmond’s eyes narrowed to slits as he watched the hated nobleman. Eret was right, the stallion the duke was riding was barely under his control, prancing left and right and throwing his head around. The sight wasn’t exactly reassuring – although it did come with the hope that the Duke would get thrown from the saddle and break his neck, thereby removing the biggest threat to the realm, as Thuggory’s lands were a knife poised at the heart of the kingdom, only a day’s ride from Lake Vola. But there was the fact that he was so close to Astrid, and riding so haphazardly. It was only his knowledge about Astrid’s exceptional riding skills that kept him from interfering then and there.

A decision he regretted only seconds later – and probably would for the rest of his life.

It happened in an instant, too fast for him or anyone else around them to react. When Thuggory rode closer to Astrid, his stallion threw its head up and tried to bite Astrid’s gelding without warning. Astrid’s horse shied away from the aggressive stallion with a distressed whinny. She tried to reign him in, but couldn’t hold him when Thuggory’s stallion attacked again, his jaws snapping with a harsh click! that Osmund could even hear from his place yards away. When Markor bolted away from the attacking stallion, his panic infected many of the horses around him, but Osmund was less concerned about the sudden stampede than he was about the fact that Astrid was at the head of it, barely able to keep her seat as Markor ran for his life.

“After them!” he bellowed, unable to get to his daughter himself with all the jumbled horses around him. But his words drowned in the general uproar, all men around shouting over one another. It was chaos, and he barely managed to keep sight of Astrid and her horse as they set off across a field and toward a nearby copse of aspen. Again, he tried to push through the chaos, but to no avail. Thor, keep her safe! he prayed desperately, helpless to do anything.

Then he lost sight of her completely and only a few moments later, a bloodcurdling scream thundered over the plain. The chaos grew as even more horses panicked at the noise, running off in all directions. But Osmond froze even as his steed beneath him pranced left and right, his heart stuttering painfully. No… No, he couldn’t lose her too!

Frantically, he tried to push through the mass of milling horses and riders; most of the mounts weren’t battle-trained and were running wild, resulting in utter chaos. He kept having to halt and turn or risk a collision, but he didn’t dare stop; his eyes were darting to and fro, looking for that patch of blue and turquoise that would tell him where his daughter was. He couldn’t find her, but a moment later he spotted something else that, while still telling him nothing about where Astrid was or whether she was alright, at least somewhat eased his mind.

There were two riders darting past the general throng, one on a big black stallion and the other one astride a smaller chestnut mare. But unlike most of the others on this ride, they were clearly still in full control of their horses, heading in the direction Astrid’s gelding had disappeared to.

With knowing that young Eret was already coming to her help, Osmond was able to calm down somewhat, enough to concentrate on his own surroundings again. It took him a few minutes, but eventually, he managed to find a way out of the chaos as many men got their horses under control again.

When he and a group of other men reached the copse, it took them a minute to find Astrid and Eret, the sounds of her wailing and of soft whispers leading their way. The sight that greeted them was reassuring – but still bad enough.

From what it looked like, Astrid was unharmed with only her hair and dress ruffled from the fall. He couldn’t be entirely sure though as she was largely hiding from everyone’s view, encased in Eret’s embrace and her face buried against his chest. The same couldn’t be said for her horse though. The gelding lay a few steps away from the couple, unmoving, and with Stoick’s boy kneeling near his head.

“Oh, by Thor’s hammer!” Eret cursed as he reached his side a few moments later. He’d apparently seen the obvious too – the unnatural angle in which the gelding’s left hind leg dangled, a bloody splinter of bone sticking out from the skin, the bloody dagger lying next to his head, and the equally bloody hands of the boy stroking the dead horse’s mane. From the looks of it, the horse had stumbled, possibly in a burrow or on other uneven ground, and thrown Astrid off, who had miraculously landed uninjured... but Markor had broken his leg, and badly. Stoick’s boy had given the only mercy available to the poor beast.

During the next minutes, more men appeared around them, taking in the scene with gasps and hushed whispers. Some offered their sympathy even though nobody dared to get any closer, and Osmond doubted that Astrid heard any of that between Eret murmuring into her ear and her own sobbing and wailing. It was a strange sight and it took Osmond a minute to understand why.

Astrid was crying.

He tried to remember when he’d last seen her in such a state but came up empty-handed except for very early memories of her toddler years. No matter how dreadful an occasion, be it her stepmother’s funeral or the assaults on her during the past year, she’d always kept up her facade when in public, had always shown nothing but strength. For her to break down like this now… His eyes wandered back to the dead gelding, and only slowly did it dawn on him how hard this must have hit her. He wanted to go to her, too, to take his daughter into his arms and comfort her. But she wouldn’t appreciate that – even her warder kept his distance, leaving her the space she needed – so he held back.

Instead, he ordered to no-one in particular, “We will return to the castle immediately.” That would give her at least a little privacy.

Around him, the men hustled about, delivering the message to those standing farther away. Young Eret tried to pull Astrid away from the site of the accident, and Osmond heard him murmur “Come, there’s nothing left we can do for him,” when she weakly fought against him. Eventually, she gave in though, and let him lead her toward his own horse. She was already on the stallion’s back, young Eret about to climb up behind her, when a highly unwelcome voice spoke up near them.

“Isn’t this an unfair advantage to Sir Eret if the Princess rides with him? It’s not as if her choice is official yet, she could still change her mind.”

Osmond gritted his teeth but kept his expression neutral as he turned toward Duke Thuggory. There was no hint of remorse on his face, even though he and his lack of control over his stallion were to blame for this accident. If only he’d interfered sooner – or had gotten rid of the traitor already.

He was about to form an answer when he caught sight of his friends’ expressions standing nearby. Eret was grimacing, clearly as enraged as Osmond was about the Duke’s behaviour, but Spitelout looked more cautious, and when he caught his eyes, he shrugged apologetically. “He has a point.”

Osmond pressed his lips into a thin line. Of course, he had a point. Not only about giving an advantage to one of her suitors, but letting her ride on a stallion was also highly inappropriate. Letting out a low sigh, his shoulders slumped down. As much as he wanted to grant her the comfort of riding with her soon-to-be-husband, he couldn’t allow it yet. His eyes wandered around, pondering the alternatives. If it were only about not giving an advantage, she could ride with him or one of the Grand Dukes, but they were all riding stallions, too, and it wasn’t really becoming of their status anyway. Her warder would be a better option, but Osmond doubted the old pony the man was riding could carry two people over such a distance. His eyes wandered on, over the guards who also all rode stallions and the servants with their full picnic baskets. None of them were suitable options either and he wasn’t sure whether to trust them with Astrid in her brittle state right now anyway. He was at a loss as to what to decide – until his eyes fell on the lonely figure still kneeling next to the horse’s corpse.

The boy rode a mare, didn’t he? In addition, he had no further weight to carry, and hadn’t he become something of a friend to Astrid, too? Also… he didn’t know the boy at all, but with what Osmund remembered about his parents, how his upbringing must have been, and how highly Daniel was thinking of him – he couldn’t help but trust in the boy’s character.

Being satisfied with this decision, he declared in a voice which clearly didn’t tolerate protest, “The Princess will ride with Sir Eret’s squire.”

. o O o .

Here again the reminder that I can't promise there won't be a new chapter in two weeks! We're on family vacation and the next chapter is too important to be released in a half-finished state.

Next chapter

#For The Love Of A Princess #FTLOAP #Hiccstrid #Hiccstrid fanfiction #fanfiction #httyd #httyd fanfiction #Romance/Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Fluff #Hiccstrid Medieval AU #medieval au #hiccstrid royal au #royalty au

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diveronarpg · 5 years

Photo

Congratulations, EMMA K! You’ve been accepted for the role of GERTRUDE. Admin Rosey: Friends, Romans, countrymen -- lend me your ears! For today, we have our beloved Gertrude back in our fold. Emma K, your Gertrude is so strong, captivating, and utterly enthralling. When we saw your application in our inbox, we were absolutely over the moon. How lucky are we to be subjected to the utterly unique tragedy that is our beloved Genevieve Zhang -- a woman who has the whole world at her fingertips, while it is simultaneously stacked against her? Welcome back to the trash pack! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Emma K

Age | 23

Preferred Pronouns | she / her

Activity Level | I’m always lurking on discord and aim for a two-day response rate at the least.

Timezone | GMT

How did you find the rp? | I was recommended about six months ago and, well, I’ve never really left.

IN CHARACTER

Character | Genevieve ‘Gertrude’ Zhang

What drew you to this character? |

I’ve never stopped loving Gertrude, even after I gave her up. I believe the points I made in my original application which drew me to her - how her worth is reaped through her status and her reliance on man - still stand, but the main attraction of Gen is that she is an anchor; grounded and stable amidst the sea of chaos that is Verona, designed to moor the ship that is the Montague faction. However, what is an anchor without a ship and without a purpose to serve? I think that is the question that Genevieve’s purpose hinges on, as well as her role both within the mob and as a mother, and what makes her so interesting to me as a character.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

Genevieve and Henry, in my mind, always had an intense relationship but it was exacerbated through the environment both operate in. As a mother, she has striven for balance between allowing her son to experience the world on his own terms and the desperate need to pull on the reins in order to protect him. Howard’s method had been a volatile concoction containing elements of both, that had only left his wife and child choking on the fumes in the aftermath. In the months following his murder death, Genevieve has felt that sensation returning to her as each glance at her son that reminds her of her husband; and everything associated with him that she would rather forget.

Her son’s needs were paramount and came before her own, until she did something that she couldn’t anticipate; she fell in love with her Cristian De Luca. Genevieve currently doesn’t know the true nature of her late husband’s death (or has started to believe the lies that she has told herself), but this will have to change. It would be the climax for several series of events; the tension between her lover and son that she has chosen to ignore, the choice to seek revenge or show mercy, and unearthing the chance of absolution that she had thought buried with Howard.

Before her promotion to Underboss, Genevieve had been afforded the privilege of not needing to dirty her hands in mob affairs too much. She had married high within the ranks meaning she often worked behind the scenes, ensuring that both the Montague cohort and the Zhang family companies operated smoothly. However, in light of her promotion, I can see a fork in the road of Gen’s future now she is more culpable for mafia decisions - either embrace the power, along with the risk of corruption or be unseated from her perch.

The inter-mob relationships also something I’d like to explore and the impact they have or have had on Genevieve as a person, from people such as Alex and Odessa to those who knew her before she was openly associated with the Montague mob.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | It would have to be for the right reasons, besides seeing Howard again, but I’m going to go with a tentative yes!

IN DEPTH

In-Character Para Sample:

Genevieve’s attention was summoned from the documents in front of her by the sound of her front door opening, knowing it was one of three people; that had not long ago been one of four. Brow arches, expectant, in the moments between the door closing and Horatio making himself known to her, a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth in response to this revelation. Her work is discarded, pushed to one side in tandem with the fleeting expectation that he brought good news, before the Zhang woman gestures for him to take the seat beside her.

“Mamma -,” his beginning is tentative, and Genevieve is unable to discern whether the pause that followed indicated speaking difficulties in light of his injuries or that his tongue fought against the syllables that it wanted to form. Genevieve notices the furrow of his brow, the seeming sadness lurking at the edges of his expression and the slight increase in breathing, knowing what they meant. Genevieve notices, though she says nothing, reaching out and clasping his fingers in her own instead. The simple gesture seemed to dislodge the words that had been stuck in her second son’s throat, “ - I need to go, Mamma, I need to leave Verona.”

Hector’s words stole the air from her lungs in a harsh gust of wind which extinguished the small flame of hope that he had coveted inside her, though her composure doesn’t shatter; it couldn’t. Genevieve blinked - once, twice, thrice - against the steadily forming lump in the centre of her throat and the unbidden thoughts about what the decision meant for Henry… or for her. However, she was adept in knowing what her children needed (or she liked to think that) and knew that what Hector needed then was support. He was always too soft for the life that he had chosen to lead, something which had originally endeared her to him that Verona had warped into his fatal flaw. Mouth pulled upward, a practised expression settling on her features as she squeezes his hand in her own. I understand, the gesture whispered.

It lied.

“I’m proud of you, mio angelo,” she tells him, standing as she pulls the much taller man toward her in an embrace; one she hopes will express everything she dare not say. Genevieve and Hector discuss several things over the next hour, the majority of which relating to his resignation which she tells him she will take care of, though he eventually departs with another brief embrace and utterances of love while he departs to tell her biological son the news.

Her heartbeat drums through her ears in the silence that followed the man’s exit, frustration at her new circumstances turning to tears, taking their queue from the gentle click of the closing door, that blur her vision as they swim along her lash line. Gertrude ignores the slight tremor in her hand as she reaches upward to swipe at the treacherous drops, leaning back into the couch and pulling the file she abandoned earlier toward her to resume her work following several unsteady breaths.

For when you are the foundation of the pyramid you cannot crumble, and the Empress of the Zhang Empire would always be seen stand strong to the outside observer - she had no other option if she wanted to survive.

Extras: CFO of Zhang & Co., a freight company established by her late husband, this is her “regular” job that can also double as a cover for the Montague shipments which go out from, and come in to, Verona.

#accepted #accepted: gertrude

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eorzean-tale · 6 years

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Prompt #17 Without a trace (Thanksgiving Make Up)

This is part 3 of my lore series, where I try and analyze some of the tidbits of info we got from Encyclopaedia Eorzea, volume II. This series only focuses on the Seeker of the Sun M-tribe lore, particularly four of its characters that were highlighted in the book and shared in the BRPN Discord. For this part, I’m going to look at M’aht. There will be spoilers from the lorebook below the cut.

Part 3 M’aht Nunh

“My path may take me to the ends of the world, but my heart shall ever be here.”

From Encyclopaedia Eorzea

Together with his fellow nunh, M’rahz, this Seeker of the Sun once led the people of the M Tribe. When necessity forced them to revert to single-nunh rule, rather than face his friend in a duel as tradition dictates, he relinquished his title and left the village. He took with him his beloved son, M ‘zhet, and the two lived in isolation in the mountains of the Fringes. Yet M’aht never forgot his people, and he continued watching over them from afar. In the course of his vigil, he caught wind of a dastardly Qalyana plot to unleash frenzied beasts upon his village. Facing the creatures alone, he succeeded in herding them inside a cave, but he could not avoid the baneful touch of their petrifying poison. With the last of his strength, he entombed the beasts in stone in stone before turning into stone himself. He was but twenty-five.

He was a tia, dammit!

First of, he should be called M’aht Tia, as he was no longer nunh when he died. Nunh specifically means ‘breeding male’ and when a nunh is defeated, he goes back to being a tia. I feel like this is either a very silly mistake to make, or somehow the M Tribe still saw him as a breeding male even after he left. It could be because he shirked tradition and refused to fight, leaving him a weird form of limbo, but either way, he should be called a tia, or it should be a bigger deal that he’s still referred to as a nunh.

Criminally insane?

My friend @tirocupidus described Aht as criminally insane, I call him criminally stupid and/or criminally badly written. It’s just… too much to even write out without it getting wordy, so I’ve made a list for better readability.

M’aht was extremely young when he became nunh?

That’s right. If you do the math his son was nearly six when he stole him from his tribe (more on that later) and he was 25 when he died. Assuming this happened very shortly after they left, that means M’aht must have been 18-19 when he became nunh. Given that they make a big deal out of his co-nunh friend Rahz being 23 when he became nunh, it’s weird that they don’t make a big deal out of this.

Or maybe that’s because if Aht and his son had even a year or two on their own outside the tribe, that means that he was a minor when he became nunh and fathered the boy, yikes.

Shirking tradition is bad for the tribe

I hate how they make it sound like it was some sort of noble sacrifice for him to refuse to fight Rahz and leave, when in reality it is the single most selfish thing he could have done. It instantly shows me that he was a piss-poor leader with no foresight whatsoever and I hope he was just a nunh and not an actual leader like his friend.

If the two nunh had controlled their and/or their huntresses’ urges better, they could have easily kept both on as nunh for quite awhile. Remember that they make the choice to go to one nunh not because they didn’t have enough huntresses to justify having two, but because they still had too many mouths to feed and this was a way to limit tribal growth. It’s stupid, but I’ve discussed this the other parts already, so let me move on to the fight itself.

So in order to determine which of the two nunh was physically the strongest, they had to fight. Not to the death, mind you. It’s simply to see who could beat the other. The other one could have remained in the tribe as a tia, and help them out with their skill and knowledge, but instead of that, Aht decided to leave the tribe and take his son with him.

So in one swoop, he robbed the tribe of knowing for sure they have the strongest male as nunh, and robbed them of two tia that could help them in their time of need as well.

One might argue that fighting is a silly way to determine who is going to be nunh, but you have to keep in mind that the position isn’t one of leadership usually, but merely one of breeding. Seekers are nomadic hunters, living far away from the comforts of the city, and weaker individuals might be burdens that won’t survive. They increase the odds of their children surviving by having them with the strongest, most capable males. It’s not a preference, it’s necessity that mimics what you see in most species in nature. I’ll say it again, it’s not some noble sacrifice on his part, he robbed the tribe of two tia’s and the chance to be sure who the strongest male is.

Kidnapping children

You know what you call it when someone takes a child away from their friends and family, to go live in isolation somewhere where they’ll never see them again? That’s right, kidnapping.

That’s what Aht did to his poor son. One might argue that his mother was dead, as they later say he became an orphan when his crazy father died, but he very likely had grandmothers, aunts, siblings, and other people in the tribe that cared for him. This isn’t a town where no one knows their neighbors, these tribes are very tight-knit communities with lots of family bonds thanks to the nunh-system. Males are also rare among Miqo’te, so stealing one away is quite a blow.

I’m also wondering about the other children he must have sired, as he had been nunh for half a decade at least. Did he not care for those? What was his long-term plan for himself and his son? Why didn’t the tribe stop him from taking the boy? It’s a very weird thing to just gloss over, in my opinion.

He was stupid, and he died a stupid death

So the dude decided to live close enough to the village to be able to keep such keen track of it that he alone found evil plots against it (so he didn't’ leave for the resources, that’s for sure), then somehow got stuck fighting the evil-doers alone (some of those able huntresses over yonder might have helped) and got his kid stuck all by himself. Apparently in-game, the boy doesn’t even know what happened to his father, and the M Tribe has to tell him, which leaves me with even more questions, like why didn’t they damn well help, and why didn’t they get the kid if they knew his dad was dead?

Ugh, I’m done with this character. I feel like no one bothered to draw out a timeline for him. They just tried to make him sound like some tragic hero, but he really was just stupid and/or nuts. What is your take on him?

#ffxiv #FFxivWrite2018 #final fantasy 14 #seeker lore #seeker of the sun lore #tribal lore #seeker of the sun #m tribe

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rottenheartedchild · 6 years

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Bayo OC redesign- Ariel

I wasn’t happy with all of my OCs and their stories so I asked those in the Bayonetta discord to check what was wrong about it. Long story short, I’m giving everyone a full redo, starting with my tiny Lumen Inquisitor. Big shout out to @tradramblings for helping me with this rewrite as well as others in the Bayonetta discord.

Name: Ariel Farkas

Nicknames: Ari, Leia, Mop-head(by Ivan), Lee, Shrimpy.

Age: 43(physically), possibly immortal

Gender: intersex

Sexuality: pansexual panromantic

Pronouns: he/they

Back-story: As a child,Ariel was full of life, wonder and mischief. His time was spent pranking older Sages, roughhousing with other children and being tutored alongside his brother, Vincent, in the arts of the Lumen Sages. But outside of the Clan, he also spent time with his mother bird-watching. For quite some time Ariel admired the ways of the Inquisitors and how they fought their opponents with such poise, ferocity and vigor so he begged his father, Kaiser, to allow him to undergo Inquisitor training in order to gain the strength to protect those he held dear. His father reluctantly agreed (after months of Ariel’s pleading), on the condition that he could not back out from his words. The training was brutal, unforgiving and unpleasant for the fledgling but it had sped up the process on unleashing his potential when he eliminated a powerful demon all by himself during a match, surprising not only Kaiser but also those who witnessed it. Soon he was scouted by the Elders themselves as they placed him under the ranks of the Lumen Inquisitors with Kaiser as the current Commander but soon realized that being he’s the son of the commander of Inquisitors had it’s downsides. One of them was hearing that he was only able to join the ranks due to family connections. That didn’t deterred him one bit and was more determined than ever to fulfill his words to his father as he pushed himself harder than anyone else and took on hellish errands head-on.

Years passed, and Ariel eventually became one of the strongest Inquisitors there was, earning him the nickname ‘Demon Killer’ for his brutal methods on exterminating demons and other monstrous beings. Because of his talents in the battlefields, he occasionally followed his father in escort missions and learned from the emissaries that traveled to far-off lands. Although their Clans had a mostly professional relationship, the spunky Inquisitor forged a close bond with two witches, Samson, the prodigal inventor, and Ivan, the Umbran assassin with a flair for mayhem. The trio sometimes held secret rendezvous where they spent their time sparring or gossiping on what’s been happening with their Clans. Sadly, all good things must end. Whispers of a child, the fruit of a union between a Witch and a Sage spread through the clans like wildfire. It poisoned the minds of the elders, and the two Clans forbade their members from meeting those of the other, for fear of another such transgression or, even worse, misguided retribution. Though Ariel understood the reasoning for the lovers’ punishment, he could not help but feel dejected at how they were treated. The trio of friends went on with their lives, Ariel still remained with the Inquisitors. The tension between Clans worsened, and in the blink of an eye, Ariel soon found himself battling against the Witches with a heavy heart.

The Clan Wars proved to be brutal on both sides, driving them to near-extinction and forcing the surviving members to seek ways to survive. If it's too bitter of a pill to swallow, then they would choose exile. Ariel chose the former - under different guises he offered his knowledge and expertise as a guardian to those of the right status…or the right price. Sometimes his mind wandered off to those simpler times, where he would play games with other children, getting lessons from his tutor and playing tricks on the elders. But most of all, he missed his loved ones. In the chaos of the Wars, he had lost track of them - Kaiser, his father, gone missing on a diplomatic mission and presumed dead. His brother, Vincent, lost in a raid on a Lumen compound. And his mother, taken by the passage of time. During one of his recent exploits, he spotted several familiar figures from a distance, minding their own business and the more he noticed, the faster his heart beat. Leaving his post behind, he ran up to the tall strangers and locked them in a bone-crushing hug, as emotions flooded through his bright red eyes, happy to see his beloved friends have survived the Witch Hunts. It was a bittersweet moment for him, sweet for the fact that they survived the Witch Hunts, bitter at the realisation that his family were still missing or even worse, dead. The trio reunited and soon after Ariel’s contract expired, they moved on from one to place to another, offering their talents to those whose willing to pay, or if they’re poor, ill or anything in between they would do it for free.

Centuries later, in a modern time Ariel runs a restaurant called Mother’s Warmth(or Anya Konyha) serving home-styled European cuisine. However, much like it’s counterpart the Gates of Hell, this quaint restaurant hides a sinister secret under the facade of aged wooden tables with worn fabrics, charming brick walls and goulash. At the right price, Ariel and Co. provide clients a variety of services ranging from sabotage to assassination, all meant to render bits of justice to an otherwise uncaring and cold world.

Beast within: Hound within( Komondor)

Bird within( Montagu’s Harrier)

Insect within( Huntsman spider)

Dolphin within( Killer whale)

Lead Laguna: Nemesis, goddess of fortune and retribution

Extras:

Ariel is a huge foodie and travels a lot for recipes,his favorite foods are fish crackers, goulash and char kuey teow with fried egg on top.

Extremely sensitve of his height and will headbutt anyone who made fun of his short stature. Ivan is the constant target for his rage.

A philantropist with a soft spot for animals, nicknamed ‘John Wick’ for his hatred on animal abuse.

Loves drag culture and often go to drag shows with either his brother or alone.

Because of his androgynous features and short stature, he got mistaken as a woman a lot which annoyed him greatly.

Extremely proficient in hand-in-hand combat and close-range attacks. He rarely use firepower unless it’s necessary.

Owns an Irish Wolfhound named Vitra and a Flemish Giant named Petey. The former is a sevice dog while the latter is a spoiled fat baby.

His weapon has a scythe on one end and a spear on the other, it’s one of his earliest weapons and is very fond of it.

A huge geek for all things superheroes and a frequent cosplayer. Sadly he can’t cosplay his favorite drunk scythe wielding uncle due to his height and the inability to grow facial hair.

His restaurant didn’t serve pork and used separate glasses to serve alcoholic drinks out of respect for his sister-in-law’s religion and to make it more enjoyable for everyone.

He learned how to cook from his mother and banned his father from using his kitchen after almost blowing it up from baking a cake.

Can and will destroy lives if given the chance. Ariel kept a very long hit list in a secret safe.

Likes pretty things but despised neon pink a lot. Often wore either heels or platforms to make himself taller.

Goes into mama bear mode towards cinnamon rolls, especially towards Samson’s younger brother Gonzalo.

Fully supportive of his nephew’s relationship with a witch named Hexx( @umisan-yo ) and tends to tease them a lot.

Very self conscious of his body and is jealous of Vincent for being able to grow facial and body hair.

#ariel #bayonetta oc #oc redesign #leia #ari #my tiny lumen sage #he smol #just don't mess with him #he have an impressive body count

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darkdevasofdestruction · 6 years

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Matt/Mail Jeevas

As per usual,the news of having a new kid at Wammy’s was always exciting news,so when a 15 year old blue haired girl appeared in the house,hiding behind Watari,and clutching a PSP close to her chest,everyone wanted to interrogate her,but they weren’t allowed by the man in charge.

Instead,he took her to her room,explained what the house was,and offered her the test results.

Intelligence: 7/10 Creativity: 8/10 Initiative: 5/10 Emotional Strength: 5/10 Social Skills: 4/10 Observation Skills: 7/10

Reassuring her that the results were satisfactory,he gave her a schedule and left the girl alone. She threw herself on the bed and stared at the ceiling,trying to process the situation. Her parents died in a ridiculous car accident,and now here she is,in a so called “Orphanage for gifted children”.

What a joke.

And her name.

The name that her parents gave her was to be forever forgot. She has a new identity. She is a new person. A new name. However,her shy personality couldn’t change

She could be anyone.

She could choose any name or identity of any of the game characters from her beloved video games.

Maybe she could become her Blood Elf rogue character from World of Warcraft,called Sinisterkill. She could be Nariko from Heavenly Sword,or her favourite vampire girl,Seira Loyard. However,playing on her PSP,she had an epiphany,and knew instantly what her new name will be.

Chiaki.

Chiaki Kertia.

Looking at the clock,she realized dinner time was about to start,so zipping her hoodie,she exit her room,and walked down the corridor,trying to find her way to the cafeteria.

It wasn’t a difficult task,since she only had to follow the flock of loud children going in the same direction. Temporarily pausing her game,she got a tray,quickly put on some food and went to the most isolated table where no one sat yet,and she continued her game,remembering to grab a bite once in a while.

Her peace didn’t last long,for the children noticed her and started throwing her countless of questions,which she realized were either aimed to see if she proved to be a threat to the Top 5 list,or simply…her hobbies.

How dull.

Despite being utterly pissed off,she couldn’t create a bad image to herself,so she’d just answer them with simple answers,only focusing on her game,hoping to get rid of them ASAP.

—

The first week at the orphanage proved to be the most boring time she had ever spent in her life,but what piqued her interest proved to be a red head boy who would sometimes walk aimlessly outside,playing on his portable console,much like her.

She knew she couldn’t realy on her social skills to interact directly with him,so she did what she knew best- Walked outside (not so) aimlessly,whilst playing God of War,and as soon as she got in front of the boy,she pressed a button and said “press A to talk”.

Not earning an answer,she blushed in embarrassment,quickly put on her cat hoodie and turned around to leave hurriedly,hiding her face with her console.

However,she was stopped in her tracks,when she heard a chuckle.

-?-:That was the best way to start a conversation.Sorry I didn’t answer right away,I had to beat the boss. Chiaki:I understand.I suppose you succeeded,then? -?-:Piece of cake! Chiaki:Congrats. -?-:Thanks.I’m Matt.Are you the new girl?I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Chiaki:Uh…yeah,I am.Call me Chiaki. Matt:Chiaki?Chiaki…Ah!Ultimate Gamer! Chiaki:*blushes*Damn…I didn’t think anyone would figure out…especially this fast. Matt:I’m a gamer too,so I’d know.And I think it suits you,after all.Great choice. Chiaki:Uh…I…Thanks,Matt. Matt:So what were you playing? Chiaki:God of War.Heard of it? Matt:Waaa?!No way!That's exactly what I was playing too!Look! Chiaki:*gasp*N-No way!That's so cool!And you killed Ares on the hardest difficulty!Nice job,mate!*hides face*Oops..uh...sorry.Got too excited. Matt:*grins*Don't worry,it's cool!How about I show you my game collection? Chiaki:Sure...but I can't stay long.Tonight is Raid Night with the Guild. Matt:World of Warcraft? Chiaki:Y-Yeah.I play for the Horde most of the time,but I love both factions. Matt:I get ya!What guild are you in? Chiaki:Um...I'm the co-leader of Method. Matt:M-Method?Co-leader?Holy hell,that's...amazing!I'm so jealous!I'm still in the Russian guild. Chiaki:Uhm...wanna join my guild? Matt:Are you seriously asking me if I want to leave the World's 2nd ranking guild,to join the World's best guild? Chiaki:W-Well...I was just... Matt:Hell yes!Thanks,dudette!You're the best! Chiaki:I...um..thanks..I guess.I'll add you on discord tonight and- Matt:How about we have a sleepover?Mello and I do that often.Lucky,it's weekend now,so we can stack all the junk food and drinks we want and play all night! Chiaki:Is that okay?No rule breaking? Matt:Well~...Maybe just a bit. Chiaki:Huh.Sounds fun.I'm in.I guess you can both come,I don't mind.Just...don't expect luxury treatment or anything Matt:*winks*Wanna know a secret? Chiaki:Sure? Matt:*whispers*I stole Mello's secret chocolate stash. Chiaki:Oh shit,you're in big trouble. Matt:*grins*Yeah,hehe~.So,if you don't mind,I might hide in your room during Raid night. Chiaki:You can camp all you want.A little bit of pleasant company is always welcomed. Matt:That's the spirit!In turn,I promise to show you all the tips and tricks of living here. Chiaki:Sounds about right.You've got yourself a deal. Matt:I'll go add you in game.What your name? Chiaki:Sinisterkill.Blood elf rogue. Matt:*smirks*Oh,not a healer? Chiaki:I know what you're insinuating,and it's rather rude.I only wish to be one in real life. Matt:Smart,funny and the real Ultimate Gamer.What more could I wish for? Chiaki:A tank. Matt:I AM a tank.Blood Elf Death Knight. Chiaki:*whistles*Arthas called,he wants his soldier back. Matt:They say never to trust a rogue,but hell,I can't stop. Chiaki:Be prepared for a stealthy backstab then. Matt:Expect a nice gift from Jeevas in the mail box~! Chiaki:Jeevas,huh?Fine then,see you in Silvermoon City. Matt:*winks*It's a date. Chiaki:...Whatever.

At night,the girl prepared the room and waited connected to discord for her friend to arrive,to start the Raid night. Soon enough,a knock was heard,and said red head came in the room,and settled himself next to the girl in bed. Adding him to the voice group chat,the two of them waited their team mates to arrive. Bored,Chiaki started scrolling through her Mounts list,only topping upon seeing the "Invincible",the hardest one to achieve,with a less than 1% drop rate.

Matt:Holy shit,you have the Invincible!That's so neat! Chiaki:Yeah,took a lot of grinding,but it was worth it. Matt:Definitely!With a drop rate of 0,72%,I can only dream of it! Chiaki:Hope your pants' drop rate is much higher...Oh...Fuck.

Not realising the whole raid group was connected and heard her say that,she could hear the laughs of her friends in the background and she screamed in shock and embarrassment. Meanwhile,Matt was dying of laughter with his new team mates.

Matt:Gosh,Chiaki,that was absolute gold! Chiaki:N-No,it wasn't!Why the hell did I say that?!Argh!Stupid!Stupid!

Still laughing,he grabbed her hand and pulled her in a tight hug,ruffling her hair,as she was desperately trying to hide her blushing face. Letting the girl go,she fanned herself with her hand,then clearing her throat and mock-scolding her older team mates,they started the Raid session. Sometime,in the middle of the night,after hours of playing,and Matt being amazed at her incredible skills,he smirked,knowing exactly what to say to get her more flustered that she was before. Matt:Y'know,Chiaki,I knew you were a Rogue from the moment I saw you,cause you Stunned me with your gaming skills and beauty.

Shocked at his statement,she spit the water she was trying to drink,then grabbed a pillow and hid her face in it.

Matt:Sorry,guys,let's take a 5 minutes break.I think our leader's fan broke,and her processor needs to cool off. Chiaki:WELL,I WONDER WHOSE FAULT IT IS?! Matt:*winks*Press 'A' to talk. Chiaki:Yeah,my biggest mistake. Matt:Aww,come on,you don't mean that~! Chiaki:Shut up...

---Extended Ending----

It was the end of the raid,and the last boss was awaiting,after long hours of work and sweat from everyone- But Matt had another plan. He wanted to laugh a bit,and he knew exactly how. As Chiaki was being serious and debated strategies with the other leader,Matt had his character run in the middle of the boss room,yelling

"LEEROOOOY JEEEVAAAAS!"

Then got killed in 0.2 seconds. Then had everyone die,having been too busy being shocked at their team mate's action to realize the massacre.

Chiaki:JEEVAS,YOU IMBECILE!WHY'D YOU DO THAT?! Matt:Gotta admit,it was funny!I'm the new Leeroy! Chiaki:That's it,I'm done with you.I'm kicking you out of the guild. Matt:Oh,come on!I just left my other one for you! Chiaki:And I'm telling Mello you stole his chocolate. Matt:DON'T YOU DARE,CHIAKI! Chiaki:*smirks*You asked for it,Jeevas. Matt:Don't you dare,Kertia...!

The girl tried to make a run out of the room,but she was quickly caught by her friend who picked her up,locked the room,quickly turned off the laptops,and threw a pillow at her.

Matt:Traitor! Chiaki:Jerk! Matt:What will it take for you not to tell? Chiaki:*smirks*I want some of that chocolate. Matt:Just that?You just had to ask,not give me a heart attack! Chiaki:*winks*Gotta admit,it was funny! Matt:Oh...I see.Touché.

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eyesaremosaics · 7 years

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Apologies for anon, I don't have a tumblr right now! I love the creativity of your zodiac posts and am curious to know your opinion of Librans. I always see them described as kind of vapid types who are only interested in appearances, and it puzzles and amuses me since it doesn't match me or any other Librans I know...

Ahoy fellow Libran! I completely agree with your opinion about vapid descriptions of Libra’s. We get rather glossed over as opposed to more… Say volatile signs. It honestly depends on what is in their chart.

A libra with heavy water influence will appear fragile, delicate, as though she were going to crack like very fine porcelain. This appearance is deceptive, because a Libra’s bones are comprised of nine parts steel. Libra has strength in their convictions, they have strong moral opinions of right and wrong. Even though they entertain both sides of the argument for the sake of fairness, they have little tolerance for injustice.

Libra’s often get anxiety about making the wrong decision. They loathe to be perceived as naive or gullible (which people often mistake them for). The issue is that they can empathize and understand where each individual is coming from, this makes them marginalize their own feelings as lacking in importance.

One of my favorite examples is my beloved Jim Henson (his birthday is the day after mine! Heehee) he was so creative, so kind hearted, fair minded and all inclusive. He brought people together to create, not only for arts sake, but with the intention to educate, amuse and inspire others. He was very concerned about the welfare of underprivileged youth, which is what motivated him to create Sesame Street. He wanted children who couldn’t afford to go to pre-school, learn the basics of writing, math, interpersonal communication, self awareness, problem solving etc. all free via basic cable.

That is a very altruistic, ambitious and forward thinking project. Yet he made it a reality, a reality which is still popular today. Even though he was the head of his company, he leveled the playing feel with each puppeteer, artist, etc. He treated everyone as equals, he valued everyone’s opinions, and though they were technically his projects, he saw them as collaborations.

Libra’s are so involved with relating to others, attending to their needs, that they often forget themselves. The saddest story I ever heard about Jim Henson, was that he was very sick for a long time, he kept it hidden from everyone–even his own wife and children. On the set of his later films, he would retire to the bathroom to cough up blood in his hands. Wash up, put on a brave face, and go back to work like nothing was wrong.

Finally, it became so severe he could no longer hide it. They took him to the doctor, but it was too late. At that point the disease had progressed so far that there was nothing they could do. When asked why he didn’t tell anyone what was going on… He paused, before gently and politely saying: “ I just didn’t want to be a bother to anyone.”

This is a tragic, but prime example of how Libra’s rate themselves lowest on the totem pole of priorities. This sweet and gentle man who brought so much joy and magic into the world, neglected his own well being because he didn’t want to trouble anyone else. Libra’s can be self sacrificing or martyrs if you will.

Because they are highly moral creatures who like to believe the good in everyone, they are often manipulated or badly used. They get taken advantage of by people who prey on their good nature. On the darker side however, Libra’s can be master manipulators. They differ from a Scorpio in the sense that Scorpio needs to be in control to feel safe, libra is self righteous, they feel privately that their way is the right way. So they will charm you, using the power of suggestion, somehow convincing you that it was your own idea–to get their way. The iron fist in the velvet glove so to speak.

Libra children are very good at using their natural attractiveness to get what they want out of adults. They pull the “cute kid” card most effectively. This can translate into adulthood, though it depends on the chart. If a libra has a lot of air in Thor chart… They will tend to be more flighty and superficial as you described. For they have more water, they will be dreamy, sad and mysterious looking, with a melancholic disposition. If they have a lot of fire, they will be more outgoing and overtly charismatic. Libra’s are naturally charming, it is a big characteristic of the sign, yet it manifests differently depending on the rest of the chart.

Libra can be a bit of a hipster, they are very cultured, have great raft in art, music, food/wine. As cultured creatures and natural host’s, they live to entertain. They can be a bit of an “art snob” (as my mother once called me). They can be counted on to decorate, curate, style etc. They have great fashion sense, and are often noticed for their sense of style. Dita Von Teese is a prime example.

Libra’s are intelligent and amusing companions, they are good listeners, have a great sense of humor, and the natural ability to put others at ease in social situations. They are classy, and like to travel in style. Ruled by Venus (the same as Taurus) they can be prone to excess. Libra’s can be counted on to gracefully keep the conversation going amidst many different personality types. They are natural equalizers. Their presence is calming. Since they are so conscious of others, they will notice if you are struggling socially, and will kindly sit by you and invite you over to join the conversation. They hate odd numbers, and can’t bear to see people left out.

They are very sympathetic to the suffering of others, and will work tirelessly to bring balance to any atmosphere of discord.

Now, if a libra is unevolved, they can be “mean girls”, certainly, but this is not often the case. Libra is generally very self conscious, because their scales tip back and fourth so frequently. More than any other sign, libra relies heavily on the opinions of others. They will deny it until there is no tomorrow, but they deeply need people. Libra is the sign of relationship, without a community, without a partnership… Libra wilts, and becomes very sad and despondent. Libra thrives off connection.

This is not to say they are incapable of being alone, Libra’s are very independent. They are ambitious and hardworking when it is for a good cause or something hey believe in. They get lazy when their scales tip into depression. Libra is always looking for balance, but can rarely maintain it. Often their experience is vacillation and confusion. In truth, libra can sometimes spend so much time going back and fourth between options that they end up not making a decision. So fearful of making the “wrong” decision, they end up standing still, watching life go by without them.

Libra’s can’t fake enthusiasm, they would rather do nothing than produce shoddy work. They can tend to be a bit defeatist if they can’t get something “just right”. Anxiety and tension arises for them if they feel rushed. They need time to perfect what ever it is they are doing. To Libra, life is a living, breathing work of art.

Love is kryptonite for a libra. They are in love with love, hopeless romantics, either openly and passionately pursuing their love interest, or desperately longing in angst for the object of their affections. Libra’s are really good at the whole star crossed/dying of love thing. They are good with words, and can sweep you off your feel with their poetry. They have a way of making you feel cherished. Like you are the only person who exists to them, and you are. Libra’s are generally very loyal creatures. They are so devoted to relationships in general, that cheating is dishonorable to them.

However, an unevolved libra (or a young soul libra) can be a bit more vapid. In love with the chase, or the thrill of the pursuit. I have known a male libra like this. He was a total piece of manipulative shit, yet his kind is not the norm. So I will just say there are exceptions to every rule, but Libra’s generally work very hard at making all their relationships a success.

They are devoted partners, who love the idea of being a “team” or a “power couple”. That is the ultimate fantasy for a libra. To have a Brangelina type romance, to be the envy of others in their unity with their partner. They are co-conspirators, confidantes. An example of this would be F. Scott Fitzgerald, who fell madly in love with Zelda Sayre. They were the power couple of the 1920’s, invited to lavish parties, traveling to bohemian Paris post WWI.

Yet their relationship was troubled first with class inadequacies, followed by career jealousies, and ultimately madness and addiction. Still Scott held on to this romantic narrative of he and Zelda. How they crossed oceans of time to be together, and admitting her to a mental hospital is what led him over the edge with his alcoholism to the point of his early death. Though he romanced other women in Hollywood in the 1940’s, he consistently chose women who reminded him of Zelda. He never got over her.

Libra’s are remarkably intelligent, adept at literature (reading/writing/poetry/comprehension) and the arts in general (painting,drawing,drama, music etc). The arts and literature come naturally to them, and other people often envy the effortlessness of these capabilities. They make good business partners, as well as politicians. Libra is reluctant to take a position of authority, but will do it on behalf of a good cause.

A libra woman, will fill your home with beautiful decor, and creature comforts. She may love extravagance, or she may prefer minimalism, regardless she loves to entertain friends and family. Hosting parties is what she does best. She will throw a fabulous event full of fun and interesting people from all walks of life.

Libra’s are painted as unemotional, this could not be any further than the truth. The problem is libra tries to over intellectualize as a coping mechanism, and often gets lost in their own thoughts. They are prisoners of their fear of inadequacy. Their sense of self is not stable at all. Without someone else to bounce their ideas off of, they shrivel up inside. Internally… The crumble to dust. Do not leave a libra alone for too long.

If you do, they are prone to indulging in drink, food, and if they have heavy water influence (especially Pisces) drugs. Libra has a hard time facing themselves. Deep down they feel they have little value without being in connection with another person as a symbiotic creature. The older they get, the more they feel like time is ticking out. Deep down they feel that honest love will never come to them.

Libra begins with the end of summer. The fall equinox takes place around my birthday every year. A time when the warm climate beings to temper with a cool breeze, and the leaves go gold and dry, falling away from the trees as gentle feathers. Libra is a time of harvest, or change. They are the beginning of winters preparation.

A sultry time leading into October. Full of bright orange, golds, browns. They are he scent of pumpkin spice. Clean fresh linen hung out to dry. They are dusk, a romantic walk with hands intertwined. They are rose petal trails, French perfume, oddities, antiques, collectibles. Fine china in glass cases. Glinting in the dimly lit room. They are the opalescent sheen in carnival glass. Fresh pressed clothing. The evidence of a party from the night before.

The end of the champagne, with coupe glasses. Art Deco, opulent ceilings, peacock feathers arranged delicately in a jar. They are shoegaze music, the lonely reverb of the guitar. Empty echoes of loneliness, intricate lace coming apart with age. They are moth eaten fabric, the light pouring in through the blinds, warming your skin in slivers. They are false lashes, skin care products, satin heels strewn across hardwood floors. Persian rugs, Tiffany lamps, Christmas lights, the faint trace of glitter left on your clothes.

They are 90s club kids, wind instruments, art gallery openings, a museum. They are guided tours, elegant ballrooms, a tailor shop full of bridal gowns. They are Lucy from Dracula, the sound of a typewriter, a gentle breeze guiding a curtain as a wildly disembodied spirit, the scent of an old leather bound book, a sea of potpourri. The feeling of being full after a fine meal. The effervescence of a good champagne. How crisp be satisfying the taste. Making you sleepy in the late afternoons.

Idealized love. Companionship. Bridge to Teribithia, “somewhere there is a place for us”. Eloping in beautiful seclusion. Promise rings. Friendship bracelets. A silver locket with your picture in it.

Feeling sad about being constantly overlooked or devalued. Being seen as that which the sign denotes–an inanimate object. The heaviness of drink having gone over the limit. The feeling of failure when a relationship ends. Panic attacks, love letters, abandoned places, overgrown with ivy. The secret garden, fairy tales, disco lights, velvet drapes. Falling into a trance. Hypnotism. The dream of love, as a two way mirror.

Rita Hayworth in “Gilda”, seen as a sexual object, but never for their brains. Having people fall in love with your image, but never your entirety.

#asks #libra #zodiac #astrology

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pastel-d20 · 4 years

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Animal Crossing New Horizons: The Game we all Need

Some of us waited over a year for this game, some of us half a decade. Whichever camp you end up in, we all finally get to enjoy the beloved Animal Crossing New Horizons in all of its beautiful glory! There have been a lot of quality of life changes that I enjoy a lot and some (*ahem* time travel) that I wish I could have back. Nothing has detracted from my enjoyment however, other than feeling left behind while my friends grind away during social isolation. This is the game we need to help us through this time.

The quality of life changes are the biggest ones for me. The wheel to cycle through your necessary tools makes organizing a breeze. I can go from my vaulting pole to fishing in seconds. You do need to pay for it via nook miles, Nook’s currency for perks in game or around the island, but If you’re quickly getting miles through your daily life (think of them as achievement points), it’s a small fee of 800 miles (we all know Nook is sneaky like that). There is also the ability to hand in fish, fossils, and bugs with ease now that you can click on every one for donation. Instead of having to go through them one at a time, it’s one conversation now.

I find it a lot easier to get money in this game! Maybe it’s my perspective but I find fish and bugs to be more valuable in this game. I don’t feel the need to hoard until Nook’s Cranny is offering a deal (though I’ll still do that for gold nuggets). That also means my debts are getting repaid much faster than before. Where I was floundering trying to pay off my first loan in New Leaf, in the last day I had enough to pay for half of the house! And using the alternate Nook Miles to pay off the tent was a clever way to engage the player. The developers probably figured we don’t necessarily want to live in a tent for a long time (kind of referenced once more villagers want to move onto the island but in houses instead). I’ve also had the ability to unlock the museum in the first few days and as of day 4 (work kind of slowed me down) I got the full museum up and running! 5 creatures are needed to get Blathers interested and if you gather 15 of them by the time he plops down his tent, you can get the full museum within 2 or 3 days! You’ll probably also gain access to Nook’s Cranny within that time frame, which unlocks the hot deals for items you want to sell and the turnip market which makes bank so easily if you play it right (or time travel, I won’t judge). With all the little things just at the beginning of the game, it’s hard to go through it all. I’m glad there are a lot of changes to how the game is played, it seems new and fresh without moving away from what we love and what makes Animal Crossing.

If you have online capabilities there a few ways that you can play with others. Online means you can play with others from the comfort of separate homes. Worth the investment if you haven’t gotten it already, and you get more games with the online pass in case, for whatever reason, you don’t want to play just Animal Crossing. You can visit other islands and work with friends to get things up and running. Or if you haven’t hung out with your friend in forever, take a stroll through the beach or sunbathe! The chat feature is fantastic and you can communicate easily with each other - if not slowly. I would probably Skype or discord your friend as well for face to face time if you want to chat outside of the game. Whatever keeps you connected! If you don’t have online or can’t get it but have multiple games at home, local play is also available. We do this with our roommate who doesn’t have online. Obviously, it’s not great for friends far away but again, there’s always Skype or discord to keep people connected!

I also want to take a minute to express how much I love some of the diy projects. SUCCULENT PLANT IN A CAN! I love this! I made one cause I thought it was a cute idea and then I made like 5 for everyone I know. It’s easy to make (a recycled can and weeds) but boy does it make the room you’re in so much more adorable! And I really like that you can use trash you pick up from fishing in projects instead of having to throw it out... causing more trash. But now you can recycle it into pretty or function stuff! This is a nice touch which will teach younger players that there’s a better use for things than throwing stuff out.

I have so much more to go with this game. Friends already have paths laid down and more stores available to them. Going at your own pace is the best way to enjoy this game. Sure my friends have more unlocked, but do you know how much fun it is hanging out with your villagers and going fishing? I play a few hours spread out during the day so I can take advantage of the different fish and bugs at different times. But that also means I won’t burn myself out on the game. I’ve seen a lot of posts about how much stuff people have unlocked and I’m happy for them but I’m also loving taking a break and going at my own pace. Life has been nothing but chaos for the last few weeks, why would I want to bring that into my game? Take your time, enjoy the ride, and don’t feel pressured to grind things out. If that’s how you want to enjoy the game, by all means, but don’t feel you have to because everyone else has so much more stuff. You might end up missing so much more by racing to the end.

I highly suggest picking up this game. You can play it by yourself, with friends near and far, or if you have children who might need something to tide them over, or if you’re just looking to play a game with them, this is a great single and co-op game that has so much for many kinds of players. It’s a great change of pace and a great escape from reality, and right now, we all need that.

Animal Crossing is available for download or on Amazon for $79.99 now!

#Nintendo #nintendo #reaction #video game #Video game #Games #game reviews #games #gaming #video gaming #vide gaming #Video games #reviews #switch #animal crossing

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jillmiz · 6 years

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Home, (Bitter) Sweet, Home...

When I got divorced eight years ago, I made the decision to be the one who would move out of our home.

Not typical, right?

No, and I got a lot of hell for it from many people – friends and family – who disagreed vehemently with my decision. But I didn’t care what anyone thought or said. My life, my decision…

And I must add that I’m a huge believe in making choices and living with the circumstances.

There were very specific reasons why I wanted my ex to have the house: he put his blood, sweat and tears into practically rebuilding that house (more than once) and we were able to buy that house mainly because of him. He wanted a large piece of property, which we had, and he cared for that house better than I ever had. I was always an unruly mess since, well… birth. My ex worked like a dog, though, making this house his home and a place that we all could love. Through seven-day work weeks and broken clavicles, wrists and punctured lungs, he built decks, walls, and painted. Our house was his project of love. Aside from that very essential fact, there were other reasons why I chose to be the one who moved and I still stand by them.

Anyway…

It was a task for me to “pack” my belongings, or whatever it was that I wanted. There were two lifetimes’ worth of memories and belongings packed into that home – the one where I was still a child living with my parents and then my sister, and the other which was after I joined my life with a man with whom I had children. What do you bring and what do you leave? Everything had meaning.

We had no list of items in our divorce agreement we each wanted to claim; it was a basic written agreement that we both decided wouldn’t (mostly) apply. There would be no “every other weekend” crap, or holiday schedule. To me, my ex was and always will be the father of my children and as such, he was certainly not going to have to abide by some legal document stating when he could be with his kids. I refused to be “that” woman who hired expensive lawyers so we could go into debt fighting over possessions and money. My ex is a stand-up man and there was no way I was going to make things harder than they had to be. Divorcing someone I spent half my life with was hard enough. We signed our divorce papers and went out to dinner and spent some final happy moments as husband and wife.

Oddly, my ex and my dad-in-law both helped me move into my first home rental. Packing for me was basically throwing random things into boxes and bags – kitchen stuff, some towels and sheets, clothing. It was a surreal experience having the person I’d been with for what seemed like forever moving me out of his life with the help from his dad. And it’s not like they were celebrating the demise of a partnership; they were (and are) just good human beings.

Living alone for the first time in my life (well, aside for my kids who would be mostly living with me because we decided I would be the custodial parent) was bizarre. I wasn’t really sad but also curious how I’d feel being in a home without my parents or my spouse. It was all me. I had to pay the rent and utilities and whatever else. I landed a job as a legal assistant, something I had little experience in, but my starting salary was pretty decent and with my child support, all was good. I had to learn to hang Christmas lights on the gutters for the first time, set mice traps and (sadly) empty them; pay more attention to my spending habits and make my kids feel like this was a home away from regular-home. It wasn’t easy.

When my landlord decided he was selling the house, I was in the middle of some major health issues and work issues. I had to leave asap and it was only a little over a year after I had moved in. I found something quickly and rallied some good-hearted people to help me move this time. I felt so bad for my kids though. Adjusting to a divorce and their mom moving out and then moving again not too long after seemed like a lot to expect from them.

The new place had its perks: it was nicer, closer to town and around the block from my sister. I was still going through a hell of a time personally, work-wise and health-wise, though, but I never really had the poor-me, victim mentality so I licked whatever wounds I had, stiffened my spine a bit and tried to make this new life we were living the best life I could.

Unfortunately, my landlord turned out to be a less-than-stellar human being and the other tenants in the two-family house were verbally abusive and, quite honestly, miserable, selfish, obnoxious human beings. My kids witnessed a horrible excuse for a man verbally assault me. So now I had real estate agents hounding me when they wanted to do an open house when I wasn’t available and expecting me to be home during typical work hours to show the apartment. (Side note: I am currently a real estate agent and I would NEVER behave the way this “power couple” in the industry behaved.)

After dealing with a disgusting, lying, money-hungry landlord and co-tenants who had made living there quite difficult, I decided I needed more stability. I could no longer be a “renter” – I had to be an “owner.” I felt like I was failing my two, amazingly adjusted children by not having a proper, stable living environment.

So the very long, difficult journey began. I needed to purchase a home where we could live and they could live without worrying about moving once again. Thankfully, my ex and I raised two very adaptable kids who went with the flow. Of course, the divorce affected them, but overall, they were rock stars.

I knew it was because they always had a home with their dad and never had to feel displaced. My younger kid sort of thought of moving as an adventure, while my oldest was silently agreeable. He had witnessed the other tenants bawling me out when it was their behavior that sparked the discord to begin with. I will never forget the moment that I sat down on the floor of my then-bedroom and cried because I was just so tired. My son was, and still is, uncomfortable with people crying, but I was just beside myself and at that particular, selfish moment, it was too bad. I was pushing forward with every ounce of mental, physical and emotional energy I had, but I just couldn’t take another life-altering change. He sat down next to me as I cried and put his fifteen-year old arm around my shoulders but didn’t say a word. His silence equated with understanding.

My daughter was little and didn’t quite understand my exhaustion. She told me to take a nap if I was so tired. My son calmly told her that it wasn’t the same kind of sleepy-tired I was talking about. He got it and I was grateful for his suddenly-mature comfort even though it was selfish of me.

After one mortgage snafu with one house, that I winded up losing, I found another that I felt was homey and cozy. I jumped with cautious enthusiasm through many hoops to get this house and the day I closed, five years ago today, I pulled up to my new home and started to bawl. I was overwhelmed; happy; scared; excited. This was our new home! She needed some TLC for sure and she became my work in progress.

I tried desperately to change my ways when it came to organization. I failed and continue to fail. I still have piles of stuff on the dining room table and can’t seem to “remember” to put things away. Laundry baskets remain overflowing; dishes, too. I am still an unruly mess, but I accepted that it’s part of who I am and always was. I am a dedicated mother and hard worker and that always trumps my inability to maintain a tidy home.

But I worked on making things a little nicer: I tore off really old wallpaper and painted; I skim-coated my kitchen by myself and fixed some settlement cracks in the plaster; I got some high-hats in the living room; got a new doorbell – small things. I presented my daughter with a light aqua bedroom I painted on a work night until 1 or 2 am, ordered new carpet and furniture for her new room that I wish I’d had. My son had the attic bedroom, which I’ve gotten him two or three different beds for him over the years, a desk I put together, a memory-foam mattress and a great dresser (even though it was used, but it still proves to be the best Craigslist purchase I’ve made to date). I started doing the unheard of – shopping at Goodwill for work clothing so that I could buy my kids the nice, cooler stuff.

I had to get new appliances, have my huge brick patio-on-patio steps demolished and replace it with standard steps, I’ve dug out bushes, learned to use a weed-whacker, mow my own tiny lawn (with a garage sale purchased lawn mower, of course) trimmed hedges, took out a sink and installed a small vanity, and lastly, installed a floating-vinyl floor by myself. There are many other things I’ve done to my old, 1927-built girl. Amazing how garage sales and a little you-tubing can educate someone about saving money and learning new skills.

I have tried desperately and fervently to create a home for my kids. I have moved eight times in the span of 29 years – certainly not a lot in comparison to many - but the last several were solely based on making my children feel safe and secure in the world of divorce and by far, the most important moves of all. I thought I was successful, but, alas, I’ve not been. Not in my eyes, at least.

I have continued to try to update my home with new paint and I’ve been getting rid of useless things and old mementos that no longer serve any purpose except to be sad reminders of old lives.

But now my “work in progress” is no longer for my kids’ sake, sadly, but only to hopefully pass her along to another loving owner who will work as diligently as I have in to give her a bit of a facelift. When I first got my beloved little house, I cried and cried. I was so happy and proud of this great moment in my life but I knew deep down that it wasn’t going to be my final home. I had a flurry of emotions because I knew that as happy that I was, life would continue happening and finances wouldn’t always be consistent. In my mind, I was on the five-year plan.

And now, it’s been five years.

My children are old enough to make certain decisions and God only knows, I will never EVER hold that against them. They are simply more comfortable in their “childhood” home and they’re living the life as 21-year-olds and almost-17-year-olds should be living. I know there is no competition about who’s the best parent or who they love more, but a subconscious desire to be where its most familiar and comfortable. Neither child wants to make me sad or hurt my feelings and I will never be angry at them for it; I understand completely because I love them.

But the financial and physical demands of owning a home have exhausted me and I sadly have to say goodbye to my old girl. Once again, I have to pack up my life, tossing pieces of the tangible past into black garbage bags and leave them on the curb. I will have to find an affordable place to unpack my life once again, with less actual unpacking to do than I have done each time prior. I will have to find a place, although a two or three bedroom won’t be possible anymore. I will have to find some inner strength to accept the fact that my custodial parent-hood is no longer a factor, even if the divorce decree states otherwise. My Merokian presence of nearly 49 years will dissipate into another past life of many. I don’t know where I will wind up and I don’t know how I am going to survive, but I suppose I will find a way as I’ve always managed to do.

Another chapter of my life has concluded, and the next chapter remains a blank page.

Happy five year, and final, anniversary to my little Orchard Street home.

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