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narrans · 4 years ago

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Everyone needs a little Hero | Hero’s Little Conversation

Hero spent the next few hours contemplating his interaction with the little girl, Maggie. It hadn’t occurred to him that humans were just and dangerous toward each other as they were for someone like him. He found himself asking so many questions about what their lives were like, Borrowers only being able to see snippets of what went on in their daily lives.

Despite living among them all his life, Hero soon concluded that what Borrowers truly knew about humans was only a fraction of what really went on. They got their food from someplace which Hero thought he heard being called the “Market;” but what did that look like? This building was big, but was it the biggest? What happened when they were really sick? Where did they go?

Hero stopped in his tracks on his way when he remembered his promise. Sam. The train of thought going from sick people ended with thinking about Sam. Was he okay? Did the coughing stop?

At the moment, Hero was at the floor joists between where he would turn to go back home or make his way to the human boy’s room in the other apartments. His parents weren’t expecting him home anytime soon. And… I did promise. But was he ready? Sure, Sam promised he wouldn’t say anything as long as Hero came back, but there was that instinctual fear that Sam might’ve simply needed time to get things together to keep him.

Hero shuddered at the possibility. He nervously glanced about to make sure no one was watching before looking back through his bags and supplies. No food rations and just a little water, but there are things I can use to escape if need be in here. Hero paused at that thought. Would he even have what it takes to escape if one of the humans he was trying to help did capture him?

No. He couldn’t think about that, and the humans he was helping would never try to capture him. At least, that’s what he thought optimistically as he turned down the hallways to Sam’s room.

~~~~~^*^*^~~~~~

Hero slid down the line he secured from the ceiling to his original perch on top of the bookshelf once he made it to Sam’s room. The human boy was currently sitting on his bed with something covering his ears and a device in his hands. The Borrower couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Sam seemed to have color in his cheeks once again and him being distracted let Hero belay to the top of the shelf without being detected.

With a quick whip of the thread, the hook came free and landed on top of the shelf for Hero to use once again to reach the bottom shelf of the bookcase. The bold Borrower had determined that he wouldn’t get too close just in case while also upholding his promise. He never promised he would get close enough for Sam to touch anyway. Also, being on the bookshelf let Hero be close to eye level with Sam – another chip in his favor (and Hero loved chips).

The bookshelf was set up so there were shelves in the top half of the furniture piece and a cabinet below. Where the top and bottom met created the perfect lip for him to stand, which is exactly what he did. The bed was just beside the bookshelf and the bedside table next to it, creating an interesting “L” shape.

Hero slid down the braided line until he finally reached the lip. The line stayed where it was near the back of the bookshelf near the wall for easy access while Hero tiptoed to the middle of the bookshelf lip and stood as he looked past the enormous blankets and comforter at Sam. The device in the human boy’s hands was black with one side red and one side blue and, seemingly, possessed all of his attention.

All of his attention, that is, until he sighed heavily, shoulders slumping, and set down the device in his lap to stare at the ceiling. Sam went to raise the device again when his eyes caught sight of the small boy he saw just yesterday afternoon. Immediately, his hands flew up to his head, dropping the electronic box in his lap, to push his headphones from his ears onto his neck – all while not breaking eye-contact with Hero.

Hero watched the boy jolt into action, which made his heart jump and start mercilessly pounding in his chest. The Borrower boy held his breath reactively as that strange rectangular block was set down and the things from Sam’s ears were removed. His skin felt as though it were on pins and needles and squirmed under the human’s gaze. That little voice in the back of his mind warned him to run and hide, but Hero instead stood his ground. Heroes were supposed to be brave after all.

Still, he was more than thankful that Sam was the one who spoke up first, not knowing what exactly to say to him now that he was standing in front of him.

“Woah, you’re actually real.” These were dangerous words that sent chills up Hero’s spine. As his panic and nerves attempted to overthrow him, Hero took a calming breath and smiled.

“Hello Sam,” he said, trying to speak up. “I… er… I’m back, just like I said.”

Sam pulled the cushioned device off of his neck and set it to the side along with the colorful rectangle. Then, quite suddenly, began scooting down the length of his bed toward Hero. The rapid lunging motion made Hero’s heart skip a beat and instinctually he attempted to take a step backwards; however, his back was already pressed against the back of the bookshelf.

The smile on his face must’ve changed into a look of sheer and instinctual panic because Sam suddenly stopped advancing when he was a couple of feet away. Sam’s eyebrows scrunched on his face as he squinted to better read the facial features of the sandy brown haired, green-eyed Borrower. The human boy now looked confused as the slightly panicking Hero tried to get a hold on himself.

“Are… you okay?” asked Sam, now holding still. Hero swallowed dryly, a lump trying to restrain his breathing, and forcefully nodded.

“Y-yes,” stammered Hero. “Just… startled is all. I didn’t know you’d get so close so fast. But it’s okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” Sam looked mildly taken aback, a partial grin tugging on the side of his mouth.

“You’re apologizing to me? After admitting I’m the one who spooked you. Wow, you’re weird,” said Sam. Hero felt his ears get warm and he averted his eyes. No one said being a hero would be easy. He thought to himself.

Sam looked away and, after a nervous chuckle and seeing Hero’s reaction, continued. “Naw, I’m… the one who should say sorry. I just didn’t know if you were real or not and wanted a closer look. Sorry. And… uh… thanks for the other day. Finding my inhaler.”

Hero felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. His tensed shoulders suddenly seemed lighter, like a weight had bee pulled off of them. Thanks. I got a thank you. My first one!

The fluttering nervousness and panic almost instantly evolved into excitement as Hero looked back up in time to see Sam looking up at him. This time, his eye-contact felt reassuring and a small swell of pride grew in Hero’s chest. Hero couldn’t stop the ear to ear smile he now had on his face.

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad I was able to help in time,” replied Hero, hands clasped around the straps of his backpack.

“Yeah, me too,” chuckled Sam. The boy cocked his head to one side and eyed Hero again. “So, what exactly are you? I mean, where did you come from? And why are you so small?”

The human boy’s rapid firing of questions put Hero on the spot, making him feel a little nervous again. Hero had already come up with a few things he shouldn’t say for the protection of his family and his kind, but he wanted to be honest at the same time.

“I… well. I’m from here. I’ve always been this size, but I’ll get taller soon. Maybe not as tall as you, but taller for me,” replied Hero, glossing over the first question which seemingly went unnoticed by Sam.

“Wow, so you’ve always been…” Sam used his thumb and index finger to mimic Hero’s height. Hero nodded.

“Yep, but I’ll get taller soon,” reiterated Hero. Sam bit his lip and nodded.

“So, what are you called? Like, what are you?” Hero hoped he wouldn’t have to answer this question, but Sam seemed intent on knowing. He didn’t need to know about Borrowers. He just needs something to call me. At least, that’s what I hope anyway.

“Well… I’m… uh… Hero,” said the green-eyed boy.

“A Hero?” asked Sam.

“No. Well, yes. I’m a hero, at least I’m trying to be, but that’s also my name – Hero.” Sam gave the Borrower boy another curious look.

“You’re a hero? And your name is Hero? Don’t heroes have to be, you know, big? With capes and stuff? I mean, you don’t have a costume or powers or anything,” asked Sam. Hero bit his lip before puffing out his chest and standing just a little bit taller.

“It doesn’t matter what size a hero is. A hero is anyone who can make a difference to someone else – and that’s exactly what I’m doing. You don’t have to have a cape or be big. There are people who don’t have those and help every day,” said Hero firmly and proudly.

“Isn’t that hard for someone like you though? How do you even get around? Is it with that hook thing I saw you with last time?” asked Sam, drinking in Hero’s answers and giving him every ounce of his attention. Hero nodded.

“Yeah, I use it to get around. I have to climb from place to place; and it isn’t that hard once you get the hang of it,” replied the Borrower. Sam looked at him in complete fascination and awe.

“Wow, that sounds dangerous and really cool,” muttered Sam, now glancing away from Hero for the second time since his arrival. “I wish I could do stuff like that.”

“Well, you can! I mean, it’s like I said. You can be a hero too,” encouraged Hero with a thoughtful smile. At this, Sam shook his head.

“No, not really. I can’t do all of the climbing and stuff; plus my asthma gets in the way of pretty much everything,” muttered Sam, a hint of frustration in his tone.

Asthma? What’s asthma? Hero’s bubbling curiosity from so many unanswered questions couldn’t be contained. He asked me a lot of questions. Maybe he could answer some of mine.

“Hey, Sam, sorry for asking, but what’s asthma?” asked Hero. Sam glanced back up at his newfound green-eyed friend.

“You’ve never heard of asthma?” asked the boy, to which the Borrower shook his head. “Wow, you’re pretty lucky then. Asthma is just a thing I have. It means I have trouble breathing if I get too excited or if I breathe dust or things like that. There’s a lot that happens, but mostly it’s just the breathing thing.”

“Wow. I couldn’t imagine not being able to breathe. So, you can’t climb or run or anything?” asked Hero. Sam shook his head. “Not really. The doctors said I could grow out of it, but that might not be for years.”

“Doctors?”

Hero hadn’t realized he asked the question until Sam started to answer. “Yeah, they work in hospitals and take your blood and listen to your heart and breathing and give you medicine to take so you can get better.”

Hero felt the color drain from his own face. “They take your blood?! Do they give it back? Or do they just keep it?” At this, Sam started laughing.

“Yeah, that’s one way how they can tell what’s wrong with you. They look at your blood. They don’t give it back; and don’t look so worried, it’s just a little bit.”

Hero had to admit he was completely fascinated. The thought of just looking at blood from a scratch and knowing what was wrong was astounding. Humans really were incredible.

“So, a hospital is where you go if you’re sick and need to see a doctor?” asked Hero, to which Sam nodded.

“Yeah. It’s not fun, but sometimes you get a sucker at the end, so I guess it’s not all bad,” replied Sam. “Do you not have doctors?”

Hero shook his head, his sandy brown hair flopping back and forth slightly. “No, but w… I don’t get sick too often, so it’s not a problem.” Hero hoped Sam wouldn’t notice his partial slip-up.

“Lucky,” murmured Sam. They sat in an odd silence for a minute or so, at which point Hero suspected it was time to leave.

“Well, I’m glad you’re doing better now Sam. Um… I’m sorry, but I have to go now,” said Hero, taking a moment to readjust the pack on his back. Sam looked instantly disheartened.

“No, don’t go yet,” pleaded Sam. “Can’t you stay for a little bit longer? We can keep talking or I can show you my game or get a snack. I don’t know. I didn’t tell anyone about you if that’s what you’re worried about. Do you really have to go?” Hero, bombarded with so many new and exciting options, wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He knew he needed to leave and that he shouldn’t stay for too long, but Sam seemed like he wanted someone to talk to.

“Well,” started Hero. “Since you didn’t tell anyone about me, I guess I could stay a little longer; but then you have to let me leave. I have more hero work to do.” Sam, elated, grinned broadly.

“Great! Which one do you want to do?” asked Sam. Hero thought for a moment. He knew Sam had a lot more questions, and Hero had questions too; but, he didn’t want to give too much away.

“Um… why not show me your game?” prompted Hero as he sat down on the bookshelf lip, slipping his pin and backpack off to his side. Sam nodded and reached over to the small rectangular device he was holding earlier. The motion was so quick it made Hero’s head spin. He could only imagine how fast Sam could be if he put his mind to it.

Sam hesitated, glancing at Hero before asking, “Is it okay if I get closer? That way you can see the screen?” Hero waited a second before giving his permission with a brief nod. Sam’s smile returned as he turned around, his immense back to Hero, and scooted backwards until his back was against the bookshelf like Hero’s back. What was once two feet of distance changed to two inches, but this time didn’t unnerve Hero like it had before. Sam was safe – at least that’s what Hero believed about the human boy.

For the next half an hour, Sam explained the levels and the game. The Borrower learned this thing was called a “Switch” and had lots of games on it. One with “cars,” one with little rings, and one where you solve puzzles and farm. It was a nifty little device and, by the end, Hero felt a pang of sadness that he had to leave.

This time, Sam didn’t resist and, instead, offered to help Hero leave instead of climbing to wherever he needed to go. Hero had to admit it was tempting to not have to scale the entire top half of the bookshelf, but just the thought of stepping onto a human palm made his insides weak with nervous butterflies.

Hero thanked Sam for the offer but elected to climb instead. Sam was obviously disappointed but understood. It was perfect timing. Sam’s parents just arrived and were calling his name. The human glanced back at Hero and gave a small wave.

“Bye Hero. Will I see you again?”

“I hope so,” replied Hero as he tugged on the line to make sure it was secure.

“Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. I’ll come as soon as I can, promise.” Satisfied with the answer, Sam nodded, pushed himself off of the bed, and left the room for Hero to ascend the line and vanish into the walls once again. The experience was a success in Hero’s mind. Talking to a human was still very scary, but Sam seemed to understand Hero wasn’t a plaything; and he hoped it would stay that way.

Hero had heard stories from others about humans tricking Borrowers into coming out, talking, showing themselves, before being captured or persuaded to stay. Hero knew he was young, but he hoped he could make the right decision and stay vigilant.

Continue

Beginning

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dingusninetrillion · 4 years ago

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a first choice

Harry Potter | Harry/Hermione | 1k words

author’s note: I have been in a bit of a writing funk, and a Harry Potter funk, going away from the fandom for months and coming back again, it comes in cycles, but I wrote this a couple of months ago. And decided I’d share a bit of it for some reason. Hope you enjoy the snippet of something I am working on. It is currently a 15-page document, so a possible long one shot.

Hermione had watched over the past few years as Ginny and Harry’s relationship slowly deteriorated. Communicating less and arguing more. Some days they were barely on speaking terms. They hid it quite well, but it became more prominent after all of their kids were finally off to Hogwarts. After Lily had left they had moved into separate bedrooms and became the equivalent of roommates.

The end of their marriage had resulted in them actually becoming closer and mending their marriage into a close friendship. It was quite a surprise to everyone.

Harry and Hermione seemed to take more of their breaks together. He confided in her more than anyone. He talked about everything. From the kids, to his newfound friendship with Ginny, to his doubts regarding staying in the auror department.

She felt like a first choice.

It was a breath of fresh air, something she couldn't tear herself away from. Even if, in the beginning, she almost willed herself to stop spending so much time with him, maybe it was because she noticed Ron's somewhat subtle, barely noticeable, disdain every time she mentioned her lunches or monthly outings with Harry.

“Harry,” she took a deep breath, “How does our friendship compare to your new friendship with Ginny,” It was a risky question, but it has been on her mind for months

“Well, it doesn't,” was his immediate response, almost reflex-like “not in the slightest.” there seemed to be something in his eyes; a glint, or something she couldn't quite place

When her and Ron began to have problems, it was only natural that she confided in Harry. He gave her his absolute unbiased and undivided attention.

“It just doesn't feel like we fit anymore,” she paused for a second to collect her thoughts. “And the truth is; I am not sure if we ever have. Maybe I deluded myself into thinking eventually we would.”

She took a breath. “The kids are gone. They are not completely clueless. Eventually they will realize something is off.”

“I think you just need to take it one step at a time,” was Harry’s response. “You don't need to figure it all out at once.”

“I know,” she huffed. “I just want him to stop looking at me with this look of his. Like I will just fall into his arms or something,” she lets out a frustrated sigh. “Like everything will just be okay if we wait long enough,”

She groans.

"Waiting isn't going to fix this shite. If he wants to work on us, then he needs to put in work. Not wait around like a lost puppy" she lets out a humorless laugh. "I have tried so hard to fix things between us. And he just seems content t-to sit on his arse and-” She cuts herself off, feeling like she has overshared.

(Would it be an awful thing to acknowledge that she has admitted things to Harry that she can barely admit to herself.)

(His presence just has that effect on her)

“I don't think I am the one you need to be telling this,”

“I know. I know. I just dont even know where to begin with him,” Harry laughed before replying. “Does anyone?”

“Point taken,” she swallowed after that.

"How is your Ginny's friendship-parenting-companionship-thing," he laughed at her choice of wording.

Harry's response is simple.

"Well we are friends, roommates, and y’know parents to the kids," he pauses. “Doesn't get more complicated than that. It's nice."

“I didn’t realize how much I preferred this arrangement to our actual marriage.”

A few minutes pass.

“Harry,” she whispered, still looking down. “I haven’t told you this lately, but, I appreciate you,” she paused for a second and let her eyes close. “So much.”

After a minute or two, Hermione opens her eyes and glances at Harry. He’s already looking at her, and he meets Hermione’s gaze with hesitancy. If it was someone else, Hermione might look away.

Except, she doesn’t want to.

Harry’s gaze feels captivating. Capturing. Analyzing. Processing. For a moment, it feels like he is the only thing she can look at, and she doesn’t want to look away. His eyes are magnetic. She has spent so long lying to herself, whatever her and Harry are, if anything, she just needs to hold onto this moment.

She feels her breath catch in her throat when his hand makes its way over to hers. His gaze never falters.

"So" Ginny paused to look up at Harry, trying to read him, “Hermione, yeah?”

"Yeah?"

"Is everything okay? It’s not like you to do things like that.”

Isn’t it?

Maybe Harry has lied so much, to everyone and himself, he only notices it when he stops pretending he believes it.

“Yeah,” Harry says. “Everything’s fine. Sorry if I have been off lately.”

“It’s just. It’s just... you said it yourself, right? Years ago... Hermione’s just a girl, and your friend. I suppose, well, I don’t really get why you didn’t tell me what's going on or even talk to Ron.”

That makes the two of them.

But, that’s not true. Harry knows. Hermione is just a girl, just a friend. But he’s spent years chasing the idea of Hermione, the private moments they shared, hoping that one day, her marriage with Ron will no longer be, hoping his feelings aren't just an endless pit of hopelessness, in the solitude of his own head.

He’s spent decades failing.

He has spent years feeling like the most selfish 'best friend' out there.

He doesn’t know how to deal with himself now that all the signs point to Hermione returning his feelings and her marriage now falling apart.

His feelings aren't just some leftover fraction of a long-lost dream or the war. He used to wonder if he fooled himself into thinking she could return his feelings, if he’d built it up in his head with nostalgia and the closeness they built during those months in the tent.

#harmione drabble #harry x hermione #harmione #harry x hermione fic #harry potter fanfic #harmione fic

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missmungoe · 6 years ago

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Can I just say how absolutely hyped and in love I am with Andromeda Unbound? Because I nearly lost it when I saw the notification on my phone. The way you write Ma-chan is fantastic and how people seem to gravitate to her whether they like it or not like shes the eye of the storm gets me. Like could you imagine if the roles were reversed and she was on the execution list? Absolute havoc! I'm so curious about what she's doing with her haki too. Anyway your fantastic and I love it!

(hi I was really happy to hear this, so here’s a snippet from the next chapter!)

“I was right, wasn’t I?”

Dragon hadn’t looked up from his desk when he’d entered the captain’s quarters, but did so now, and the look on his face told Sabo his cheek hadn’t gone unnoticed. Whether it was appreciated, now that was a different matter. “It was the right decision to get her.”

The quirk of a single brow betrayed a wry amusement that wasn’t nearly as rare as rumour would have it. “The last time our paths crossed, she didn’t even reach my knee, and was too shy to come out from behind her mother’s skirts,” Dragon said. “You will forgive me for voicing my concerns.”

Sabo grinned. “She wasn’t hiding this time.”

“No,” Dragon conceded, the corner of his severe mouth lifting a fraction. “I half-expected a scolding. Her mother was a formidable woman. Even of a gentler nature, I am glad to see her daughter is no pushover.”

His grin eased, and dropping into the armchair sitting before the desk, “She’s convincing,” Sabo agreed. “I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about her.”

“I do,” Dragon said, without hesitation, his gaze sweeping over the newspapers spread across his desk. With Red-Hair’s capture and impending execution, the Reverie’s importance had dropped below the fold, reduced to brief mentions of the expected attendees. The most recent edition included an outline of the Nefertari royal family, and the plucky crown princess. “Red-Hair boasts a similar…persuasion.”

Then, wry, “Perhaps we ought to send her to the Five Elders,” Dragon mused. “I would hazard even they would have trouble, faced with the ruthless scrutiny of those eyes.”

Sabo’s smile fell. Then, “…I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

Dragon just looked at him, although Sabo was tempted to say that didn’t settle his concerns in the least.

“Her haki,” Dragon said then, his tone considering now, and Sabo knew that look; the intrigue that so few even thought him capable of, but Dragon was more like his son than most people knew. “It is a strain I have not encountered before.”

“Of observation?” Sabo asked, and Dragon nodded, his expression deepening to a frown as he looked at the newspapers, and the numerous photographs of Red-Hair.

“Proficient observation users have a keener sense of the world than others,” he began, before directing his next words at Sabo. “You perceive it differently. You don’t use your eyes to see, but your senses. A haki user of your calibre can single out an individual from a crowd even at a distance. Right now, you could point out Koala’s position to me, or Ivankov and Inazuma’s.”

“Her cabin, the infirmary, and the galley,” Sabo said, not a single beat missed, and Dragon inclined his head, as though to indicate his point had been taken.

For her part, Makino was out on deck. Sabo was surprised to find it was the case; after the events of the night, he’d expected her to want to stay in her cabin. But her presence was as still as the sea; quiet East Blue where she carried them through the dark towards their destination.

From his considering look, Dragon knew where his mind had gone, although he appeared to be gauging him, as though he was looking for something.

“How deep does that sense go?” he asked him then, and Sabo’s brows knitted.

“What do you mean?”

“Take Koala,” Dragon said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you feel?”

Drawing a breath, Sabo found her, but then she was always at his fingertips, and the action of singling her out from among all the other people on the ship didn’t even require thought. But then her presence had been a fixture in his mind for as long as he could remember, and it was never hard to imagine her; a sunflower that bent towards his hand when he reached for it.

“She’s calm,” he said. Her heart-rate was normal, and she was awake and alert, despite the late hour. “Focused.” His lips quirked in a smile. “My guess is, she’s going over the Pangaea blueprints again.”

“And if I were to ask you what she’s thinking?”

“Then I’d tell you she’s probably still annoyed I spilled coffee all over them.”

His glibness was met with a patient look, as Dragon explained, “Of our plan.”

This time, Sabo’s mouth firmed, and he hesitated a moment before speaking, “She’s scared.” It wasn’t something Dragon didn’t already know, but it almost felt like a betrayal, revealing it. “The prospect of going to Mariejois makes her uneasy.” He’d already told her she didn’t have to come, and had promptly been told what she thought about that, and where he could stick his concerns. And he understood her reasons for wanting to go, just like he knew why she was afraid.

And it felt curiously intimate, revealing this, something she hadn’t even told him, but before he could stop himself he’d said, “It’s not the thought of going in that scares her, it’s the thought of not being able to get out again.”

Dragon’s expression revealed none of his thoughts, although Sabo doubted this was news to him. “And do you say that because you can sense it, or because you know her so well?”

Sabo thought about it, but he detected no fear in her presence now, nothing at all to suggest that she was even worried, even though he knew it existed, buried under her calm. “The last one,” he said, but then, “Wait, you’re not suggesting that Makino is a mind reader, are you?”

Dragon’s mouth tugged up at one corner, no doubt at the look on his face. “Not exactly, although you are not far off the mark.”

Mouth slightly agape, Sabo just stared at him, but Dragon only shrugged one shoulder.

“One’s innermost self is usually private,” he began, the deep baritone of his voice carrying the words without inflection. The fire crackling in the cabin’s hearth made his tattoos stand out, deepening the already generous shadows gathered in the grooves of his features, but his face revealed nothing of what lay beneath the markings, as he continued gravely, “Our secrets, our shame. What lies at our cores. In a relationship, knowing someone intimately will reveal them, but it’s a knowledge that takes time and patience to uproot. And often, not a small amount of trust.”

He met Sabo’s eyes, wide now that he’d caught on, as Dragon said, “But imagine if you could look at someone and know them for who they are, instantly. The power you might wield over another.” His gaze shifted towards the bank of windows to his right, and East Blue beyond, a black pool under the endless, star-strewn sky. “The things that make us human are what make us vulnerable. In our line of work, it’s not something we can readily afford. As such, some of us go to great lengths to protect that part of ourselves; to keep it hidden from scrutiny, and those who’d seek to use it against us. The same way we train our bodies to withstand damage in order to survive. But while armour can shield your body, your vital organs, there is no protection from an observation that sees right through you.”

He paused, and then to Sabo’s shock, looked at him and said, “She was in my presence less than five minutes, and she knew.”

Stunned, Sabo said nothing, still busy processing what Dragon was saying. But he didn’t appear angry about what she’d done, however unintentional the intrusion had been from Makino’s side. In fact, Sabo almost thought he looked fascinated, a gleam in his eyes now that reminded him, startlingly, of his little brother.

“There is a certain irony to it,” Dragon continued, his even tone taking on a wry lilt. “Her face cannot help its own honesty. She hides nothing of herself, not her thoughts or her feelings. In return, there is no hiding from her. Is it the price for her power, or is that simply who she is? I cannot say. I would wager not even she knows the answer.”

Sabo watched him, standing behind his desk, the imposing figure cut by his broad frame, cloaked in the cabin’s shadows. And few had the privilege of sharing his counsel this way, of taking part in the thought process that lay behind his enigmatic persona; to witness firsthand the keen intelligence, and the fiercely calculating mind. But for all that Sabo probably knew his leader better than most, he still couldn’t claim that he knew who Dragon was.

“Her guileless nature is deceptive,” Dragon said then, before letting slip a soft snort. “I realise that is a paradox, but those are the facts. It’s easy to overlook the depth of her ability. Big waves draw the most attention on this sea, command the most fear, and respect. When the water is clear and the surface perfectly still, few spare a thought to how far it is to the bottom.”

He met Sabo’s eyes, his own bright where they burned in the firelight. “I want you to find out if there is one.”

Frowning, “You mean train her?” Sabo asked, and saw him shake his head.

“No.” His gaze dropped to the newspapers again, fixed on Red-Hair’s face in one of the photographs. His voice was calm, and all the more chilling for it when Dragon said,

“I want you to unleash her.”

#One Piece #asdfsgdf I'm so thrilled to hear you're excited about this fic!#and thank you so much for saying that about how I write Makino?#it's no secret that she's my favourite and I'm always delighted when someone likes the stories centred around her #Makino #Sabo the Revolutionary #Monkey D. Dragon #mungoe writes

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neverwatchedonepiece · 6 years ago

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617: "Caesar's Defeat! The Powerful Grizzly Magnum!"

Basically Caesar: “REEEEEEEEEEEEE, SCIENCE!!!”

Only had time for one episode today but caught a snippet of the preview and it seems like posting for one episode here will fit in terms of the story arc.

Caesar is down and out, Law has done what he came to do, and Luffy has executed step one of his plan to kick ass and kidnap! Now all he needs is the fantastically badass Usopp to come through with the cuffs and step two will be on the cards!

It’s all a matter of escaping Punk Hazard with Caesar in tow, plus Law, the Strawhats, a bunch of kids and maybe some surviving Minions and the G5 and Smoker and Tashigi and Foxfire and Momonosuke and Brownbeard.

Yeah, I hope Franky has some extra bed rolls hidden away in storage because that is a lot of extra bodies on Sunny.

Sanji will be fine. He worked at Baratie. He’s used to mass catering.

Law Tries Out His Stand Up Material On Vergo

In other news, Vergo is still alive. I kind of hoped Law might have taken him out but this is One Piece and you guys have always said that Oda sees a future for most of his characters. (Even Wapol. Yes, I am still salty about Wapol.) Smoker was on the ground, breathing hard. Getting fresh air for once, instead of dat tasty tobacco.

Vergo is also still shit-talking. “You broke the gear? There’s no turning back? That’s hysterical.”

Brave for a guy who was (at that point) in two pieces with a building crumbling rapidly around him. Not to mention the noxious clouds of gas.

Then he used his hands to spring from the ground and attack Law. He was Roomed and doomed in two seconds, chopped into fractions and hung on the railings. (Approaching Nightmare Fuel territory if you think too much about it.)

Vergo totally reminds me of the Black Knight from Monty Python’s Life of Brian. If you’ve never heard of it, he’s basically this dude who keeps getting up and shit-talking his opponents even after the removal of all his limbs. It’s funny. Vergo even made a joke about it. “How will I eat breakfast tomorrow?” Yeah, he almost went full Black Knight there.

Except for the little serious turn when he threatened Law with Doflamingo’s past.

“How dare you, Law? This is an upset. But I know you’re going to regret it. Keep that in mind. You don’t know Joker’s past and that will cost you your life. Upstarts like you can’t hope to take over the world. It’s filled with those who are much stronger. Tell him, Smoker!”

First of all, why was he appealing to Smoker to back him up like a kid in a playground? The brazen cheek of it. As if. I’m glad Smoker blanked him and sparked up a fat Cuban cigar.

Secondly, what is all this about Doflamingo’s past? Why would that matter to Law? I’m trying to think what could possibly affect Law as much as Vergo says and I’m drawing a blank.The only thing that might be a bit meh is if Doflamingo was once a Marine. We already had that twist with Vergo.

At any rate, Law had had enough with Vergo running his mouth, and chopped his head into two pieces.

“Don’t worry about me. Just worry about yourself. This room will explode soon. Goodbye, Vergo the pirate.”

I ain’t bothered about Vergo. That guy is too arrogant for his own good and Law gave him a well-deserved taste of defeat. I just hope Law took Smoker with him.(It’d be hilarious if Law carried Smoker over his shoulder and they ran into Zoro carrying Tashigi over his shoulder. xD)

Speaking of Well-Deserved Tastes of Defeat...

This guy...

I love a charismatic, melodramatic, total piece of crap villain, but Oda did a great job of making me loathe Caesar here. I think Luffy lamping him square on the chops unhinged him a little. Law destroying the SAD factory and the labs as a result probably finished Caesar off. His arrogance and cruelty was off the charts! I thought Spandam was bad. Caesar makes Spanda look like a playground bully.

I loved how when he realised Law had unleashed merry hell, Caesar’s reaction was, “Damn! Who caused that? I bet it was Law. What is Vergo doing? You Strawhats RUINED MY PARADISE!”

His paradise. Wow, that sure does give you a little peek into this dude’s mind.

And it gets better.

Caesar had a last-ditch plan to defeat Luffy. He called his Minions in the Secret Room. “R-Building, can you hear me? Secret Room, come in! Open the air vents now! Let Shinokuni flow into this room.”

The Minions, understandably, were reticent to do this because they are the kind of people who, like the Strawhats, look after their own. They asked, “but wouldn’t it kill our guys?”

Caesar was like, “Well, I’m a gas man. I’m not gonna die. You’re just guinea pigs. No one would care if hundreds of you died. You are just the dregs of society! What are you doing? Hurry up. I can find replacements for you fools so easily.”

Uh oh.

The mask came off. Caesar must have been so riled that he didn’t care if everyone saw his true nature. The poor, deluded Minions still clung to their vision of Caesar as their benevolent Master, their saviour.

“Oh, the Master is trying to fool the enemies. He must have a plan to do with the gas. It would hurt him to know we suspected him.”

Hurt him? Mate, Caesar has no feelings to be hurt. He has an ego the size of Laboon. That’s not the same thing.

So, of course the Minions pulled the lever. Shinokuni flowed into the room. And I had a facepalm moment at those poor, brainwashed Minions.

Caesar Does A Moria

“Yes! About time,” Caesar shouted. “Dregs shouldn’t think. Now, become my power, Shinokuni. Look, Strawhat! Look at his amazing appearance. This is my scientific power. Through this experiment, two countries have already expressed interest in the weapon. They are both quite peaceful but when humans get serious about defending themselves, they’ll look for any way possible to kill their enemies. Everybody needs me! I’ll spread weapons all over the world and become King of the Land of Death.”

There are a couple of things to unpack here.

First of all, Caesar is completely demented. I mean, that was always obvious. But that ambition of his is twisted and terrifying. Worse, that Doflamingo gave him the traction to actually make it happen.

Secondly, he’s insane but he’s not stupid. Caesar has an eye for business and is, weirdly, able to charm people into believing his bullshit. He also knows the darker side of human nature and how to exploit it, like he has done with those peaceful islands. He is also smug in the knowledge that big shots in governments everywhere will always want him in their corner, so there will always be a place for someone like him. That was a definite Art Mirroring Life moment right there. Harsh but true, I guess. The guy who first split the atom and invented the atomic bomb was a hot commodity, right?

Third, Caesar basically did a Gekko Moria. Caesar took it a step further because he actually gleefully killed all his Minions. Moria just took the shadows back from already dead bodies. This was the logical conclusion of Caesar seeing other people as objects or commodities to be manipulated, used or destroyed as he sees fit. The way he happily killed them all was just nasty. “It’s amazing, if I do say so myself. Look at how fast it acts on their nerves. It’s almost an art!” And when they begged him to stop, “I am your saviour and I can make efficient use of you good-for-nothings. You are just crumbs. You should not stand against your Master. Die like dogs!”

Crumbs. Dogs. Guinea pigs. Caesar always uses dehumanising language on his poor Minions. And everyone else for that matter. He really is a psychotic, nasty piece of work. If this guy is working for Doflamingo, I cannot wait to see what a horrible bastard Doflamingo turns out to be. xD

Caesar’s Off The Deep End Behaviour and his treatment of his own people caused Luffy to have the veiniest, super frown I have seen on his face so far. Luffy does not like people who betray and used their own crew/soldiers/comrades.

Luffy said to Momo, “Look after Brownbeard.” Then ran in the opposite direction. Of course, I knew Luffy was just looking to gain some distance. Caesar, of course, mistook it for Luffy chickening out all of a sudden.

There was one person who knew with absolute certainty that this was not the case.

Usopp Was Awesome Here

Can I just talk for a moment about how awesome Usopp was here?

All through this arc, he’s been ridiculously brave. He volunteered to split up with Brook and Foxfire so he could work on his own to find the Sea Prism Stone cuffs for Luffy. He was creeping round the labs on his own and when he found the Secret Room, he did not run upon being confronted with a full squad of Minions. He simply used his smarts to evade capture. Because he knew there was something in there of value and Luffy needed his help.

When the Minions saw Caesar’s true nature over the DDM feed and were finally like, “OMG this guy is awful.” Usopp just walked up to them and said, “I know you’re all broken hearted here but could I sit in that control seat for a second? I wanna save my friends from the gas.”

See that? Usopp’s loyalty to his friends trumps all sense of fear.

When the Minions tried to shake Usopp by saying, “Yeah, you’ll never escape because your Captain just cut and run. He left you guys behind.“ Usopp was Not Having One Bit Of It.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa... Are you dissing our captain right in front of me? If he were the kind of person who’d betray us, this whole thing would’ve been much easier for me. I would’ve just run away with my tail between my legs. But he never, ever stops believing in us. So we have no choice but to support him. We pledged to live up to his expectations as long as we can breathe!”

There you have it. Right from the horse’s mouth. Luffy’s faith in his crew inspires them to greater heights. And in Usopp, this is bravery. Absolutely beautiful.

And when the Minions said, “But what can we do? We can’t beat such a powerful man?” (Referring to Caesar) Usopp replied, “Yes, you can. You guys should just believe in our Captain. Caesar is the type of person that Luffy hates the most. Luffy won’t forgive Caesar.”

Usopp knows Luffy pretty well.

That Grizzly Magnum was really something else. I was expecting it to take out Caesar straight awayt but I liked that it didn’t. Caesar is the kind of villain who needs to have his pride thoroughly broken and to taste bitter, bitter defeat. If not, he’ll just tank the hit, pick himself up again and it’s back to his same old tricks.

The best portrayal of that was when Caesar was wrestling with Luffy, the Shinokuni slowly turning his hands to white powder, and he screamed, “Kneel before my power!”

Luffy will never kneel to anyone. Now, I’m not sure what those pulses of power were that drove Caesar back (Conqueror’s Haki?) but Luffy’s hit finally landed and, in a perfect moment of symbolism, Caesar’s self-made crown shattered.

He is no longer the tyrannical ruler of Punk Hazard. Caesar’s reign has come to an end.

And I can’t wait to see what happens next, because Doflamingo sent one of his lackeys to help him out.

The plot chickens.

Well, you’re gonna kidnap him, so that might be a tough one to get round.

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v01d-ch1ld · 7 years ago

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The Bright White Light, The Cool Night Breeze

Jason stood on a Gotham roof, slouched over on himself with his helmet at his feet. He needs a cigarette. There are no words for the pain in his chest or the screams of torment in his head. She’s gone. Never to return again. He knows it. No one lives long in the capture of the Joker. That was a lesson of hard experience. He could still feel the pain of his ribs breaking as the crowbar came down on his prone weak form. He can hear the clown laughing and his pained screams. All just par for the course at this point. His whole life has been loss from the beginning. He should be used to it by now…and yet, there is nothing he could do. The last time he felt this bad was when Tim fell victim to the Joker’s schemes. That was a dark day and he was in Metropolis. When he heard about it second hand from Barbra, he almost lost his mind. Replacement or not, he still cared for the kid. Bruce forbade him to come home until it was resolved, and he was forced to obey due to the simultaneous drain of funds due to Oracle.

Honestly, the sinking feeling in his chest that had been there since his resurrection was not helping the churning of his stomach as those memories rushed through his head. He took out a cigarette from his jacket and lit it with easily practiced motions. There were only two ways to deal with his stress right now: kill or smoke. He chose the one that wouldn’t result in Bruce beating the shit out of him again. The only comfort that he had was the fact that Dick wasn’t doing much better than he was at the moment. Dick had searched for about a month before he nearly had a mental breakdown. Bruce sent him back to Bludhaven and told the police not to let him back into Gotham for fear of Nightwing going on a Red Hood style rampage. Jason, on the other hand, is still searching but he is finding it harder and harder to put on his helmet every day. Just another connection to that bastard. No one can keep track of the Joker for long. He keeps switching locations and covering his tracks.

They all loved her, but Jason most of all. He loved her like it was his last lifeline. There were no words for how he felt for her and there never would be. She was the reason that he managed to endure Bruce, depression, and psychotic tendencies. She made him want to keep fighting. If she dies…Gotham’s rogues will die with her, he vows, saving Joker for last and to hell with what Bruce may say. Exhaling smoke he rolls his shoulders back and looks out into the bleak Gotham night.

Across town, in an abandoned club Rebecca was practicing some moves on a pole. Catwoman was trying to gauge her flexibility. As she arched her back around the pole she pulled her left leg over her head and used her ankle to grip the pole for balance, her shorts riding up to see the barest shadow of her underwear. Usually she would have minded, but lately, something has possessed her to be more rebellious. Maybe it was the drugs, but more likely it was because it pissed the Joker off to see others ogling his daughter. Her hands slid down the pole as she spun around it upside down. Her arms had bruises and scabs all over them, but she didn’t care; it wasn’t like pain actually affected her anymore. Her nerve endings were so fried she was surprised she still recognized pressure on her skin. She couldn’t feel cold or pain, only pleasure or heat. She didn’t suppose that this was a foul existence. She swung herself off the pole. She was bored. She had been learning 3 different fighting styles, how to use guns, knives, blunt force weapons, and her custom daggers and now all she was working on was parkour. She wanted blood. Blood could slake the awful gnawing on the inside of her brain. It felt prickly and uncomfortable, like a numb burning sensation.

“You have good balance, kid.” Catwoman purred from the chaise she was perched on. Rebecca tutted like a certain demon spawn. She cartwheeled off stage and vaulted herself onto a table and stretched. She tore the stitches on her exposed stomach in the process. If there was one good thing about this arrangement is that she had developed beautiful abs. She felt something running across her skin and saw the blood. Taking a finger, she scooped some into her hands and licked them clean. Jumping off the table she went to get the first aid kit and her auntie Ivy.

The halls were barely lit. Her eyes were becoming far more sensitive to light as of late and she threw temper tantrums until they finally turned the lights down. She strutted down the halls knowing damn well that if anyone touched her, she would give them hell and then her father would give them death. Skipping down the polished concrete halls, she ran her nails along the walls making a nice scratching sound. As she skipped she started to sing. Nonsense snippets of songs that made no sense combined the way that she did.

When she got to the private rooms, she went to the door that she knew was serving as Ivy’s boudoir. Not bothering to knock, Rebecca walked inside and flopped on her sitting flower. She was the only one other than Harley that Pamela would let into her room and because of this, she got a sitting flower. Ivy was typing on a laptop very quickly.

“I thought you were practicing with that hussy. What brings you here, Rosebud?” Ivy still hadn’t looked up.

“One of the gifts daddy gave me started bleeding because I ripped my stitches.” Rebecca’s voice had changed too. Her throat was raw after the last time Joker took her into the lab rooms. After she stopped bleeding and foaming at the mouth, her voice sounded deeper and raspier, yet at the same time, she was capable of vocal mimicry to a terrifying degree, even able to produce a facsimile of male vocal tones. She was currently mimicking Harley to emphasize the sarcasm. Ivy looked up and saw the blood running sluggishly out of her stitches. Sighing and grabbing the first aid kit, she moved Rebecca’s flower closer to her own.

“How did you manage to rip them? This is the third time this week!” Ivy huffed as she began to sanitize the needle.

“I was practicing parkour. Daddy wants me to be as good as the wonder brats.” Rebecca said, speaking normally. She rolled her green, lightly glowing eyes. The chemicals that she and her father’s DNA were bathed in created the sick looking radioactive green. Looking into Ivy’s nearly turquoise eyes, she smirked, “I have to admit though, it brings back memories of when I used to take gymnastics.”

“I’m going to give you your next dose while you’re here. It should help.” Ivy said while cutting the ruined stitches out of her side. Rebecca nodded. The enhancement drugs were different from the chemicals which were different from the psychosis-inducing drugs that she has been getting from her father. They were to make her joints more tensile, her bones denser, her muscles stronger, her agility improved and enhance her healing factor by a small fraction. It would help her heal faster and without scarring. The serum was derived from her blood sample, Ivy’s plants and some of the multitude of supplies that Joker had stolen from Star Labs, Wayne Tech, and Lex Corp. over the years. Ivy and Victor had been slaving over the stuff for about two weeks before it was done. But boy, did it hit the spot. She was able to actually function after lab days when her body was pushed past the limits of physiology.

As soon as Ivy finished the stitches, she went to one of the tables in her room and grabbed a hypodermic needle. She hooked up the drip and plunged the IV into her arm. Rebecca leaned back and sighed in her flower, the sensation of the serum hitting her veins was nearly euphoric. It was tingly and relaxing yet energizing all at the same time. The world was temporarily okay. She knew that the serum had CBD in it to keep her calm and not rip the needle out, but she wouldn’t have taken it out anyway, it felt too good.

Her long green-black hair flowed over the petals of the purple flower that she had taken to using as a bed. She understood why Ivy liked to sleep on them, they were really comfortable. This particular flower smelled divine and mixed with the sensation of the serum had her in a semi-conscious state. She gave a dizzy smile with her black lips and giggled. Ivy looked down at her and gave her a sad smile, which soon went back to her normal expressionless countenance. She flipped her hair and went back to her flower and continues to work on her laptop.

Rebecca listened to her keystrokes absently and she began to think. She was losing memories. She knew it. It was an undeniable fact that with all the chemicals that there was bound to be some damage to her neural synapses. So, she worked hard to remember her old life. One that she knew was out of her reach forever now, but still full of happy memories. She remembered boys. Two of them were older than her. One of them she considered like her brother, the other was associated with something intense but undiscovered, new, powerful. The other two were younger and she thought of them as little brothers. She cared for them deeply and even though they both had issues conveying their emotions, she knew they cared about her. Then there was a cold presence in her head. A man. He was intimidation and cool rage. Terrifying was the word she would use to describe him.

“You’re wrong, they don’t care about you. If they did they would have come for you by now.” It was back. That voice.

It usually came while she was recovering from labs. That intrusive voice in her head. It gave her migraines of unbearable caliber. It confused memories and destroyed long-held convictions. It rearranged her personality and made her angry. Angry that she had lost control and was losing more every day. It created doubt. Doubt kills in this business. And above all, she wanted to at least live through this because in her eyes that meant she won.

Next: http://deepdarkvoidchild.tumblr.com/post/179315515577/if-bitterness-is-my-cancer-fire-is-my-cure

tags: @nxttime @dcuniversefanatic @dcdweeb @ravennightingaleandavatempus

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percywinchester27 · 8 years ago

Text

Tic Tac Toe (Part-13)

Word count: 4.9k-ish

Pairing: Sam X Reader

Warnings: Angst, Feels, Fluff!

Series Summary: The reader shifts into a new city after being offered a dream job by a big firm. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect after an ugly break-up with a douche-bag Ex. But things turn out not as dreamy as she’d want them to be and the only thing that keeps her smiling is a totally coincidental game of Tic Tac Toe.

A/N: Okay I LOVE this chapter. For so many reasons!! I hope you guys do too :)

Please leave some feedback? It’s what keeps me going. LOVE Y’all!

Beta: The forever awesome @sdavid09 and my darling @vougebandit. You guys rock!!

Catch up: Part 1, Tic Tac Toe Masterlist

As you closed your eyes, scooting as close as possible to Sam without touching him in that tiny bed, you vowed that tomorrow, you'd make it up to him, because he was worth so much more than the trivial accusations. He was the best and you promised yourself that you'd do everything to show him exactly that...

Reader's POV:

You opened your eyes, feeling the chill settle in every part of your body. The room was light, so you guessed it was morning already, but it wasn't light enough to be too late. How you wished that you had woken up like yesterday, innocently nestled in Sam's arms, but he was still sleeping ramrod straight on his back, away from you. The only contact was where your hand rested on his stomach as you slept on your side facing him.

His face didn't look as serene as you'd come to expect, but the creases on his forehead weren't too pronounced either. They were sublime and it made you feel horrible. The corners of your eyes pricked and you gulped, willing yourself to be stronger. This was your screw up so you didn't get to play the victim here.

Carefully, you scooted closer to Sam on the ridiculously small bed. He'd had to sleep on the extreme edge to achieve the feat of not touching you at all. Was he that upset? Was he that mad? It made you hesitate, but then you made up your mind and pushed your hand farther, wrapping it around his waist and snuggling close to him.

Sam stilled underneath you, and you immediately closed your eyes, groaning sleepily.

You could feel Sam draw in a deep breath, before his hand settle over your head, hesitantly. It lingered there for a fraction of a second and then he removed it. You could hear his small sigh.

"Is there any chance you'd consider forgiving me?" You asked in a small voice.

Sam gently disentangled his torso from your limbs, and propped himself up on his elbows. "Y/N?"

Timidly, you peeked up at him. His eyes were confused but clear like the morning sky. There was no anger or resentment there.

"Why would I be angry with you?"

"Because of last night?" You looked down. It would have been better if Sam was angry, because you couldn't offer an explanation when he wasn't asking for one.

"You mean for pretending to be asleep when I came in, and then walking out on me in the dead of the night?"

"Yes that." You hung your head.

Sam put a finger underneath your chin and lifted it up. You looked up to see that he was smiling a small smile. You launched into an explanation still.

"I just… I am so sorry…"

"Shhhh…." He put a finger to your lips. "Why are you saying sorry?"

"Because," you started slowly, "Because I think I hurt you."

"No you did not," Sam said firmly. "Last night, I asked you to wait up for me, and then when I figured out that you were pretending to sleep, and later when you walked out, I was afraid that maybe I pushed you too soon."

Oh god! Sam was making this about himself, when it wasn't.

He continued. "I know it's been just a week, and you're right, it is too soon. I should have realized that you must still be not ready… after what happened with your Ex."

You simply stared at him. All that time you'd spent worrying that Sam would be angry with you, he'd been beating himself up and feeling guilty about something that had nothing to do with yesterday. But like hell you were going to tell him the truth. It was better to let him feel guilty about this than telling him what happened last evening. You didn't want to cause a fight between Sam and John.

"Why didn't you talk to me last night? Why didn't you stop me from going away?" You asked.

"I-I wanted to. But I was scared that if I stopped you, I'd just push you further away," he said, running his fingers through his hair.

"No, Sam!" You said finally, not able to keep it in. "It's not you. You can never push me, you are not that person. I just wasn't in a good space and I didn't want to drag you with me. I was so scared that I'd hurt you in the process."

You expected Sam to refute your apology, but he seemed deep in thought.

"I thought you had decided to go sleep in the guest room actually, and I couldn't sleep so I took a walk downstairs to the pier, to clear my head, and I saw you there, sitting with Dean."

You stilled. "What?"

"Yeah," he said. "The two of you were talking, so I turned and walked back up. Put out clothes for you and then went to sleep."

"But I thought you couldn't sleep," you pointed out.

"Yeah I had been over thinking before, but then I saw you with Dean and that relaxed me a little. I figured Dean would make everything alright," he shrugged, making you smile.

"He's kind of awesome, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he gets it from me," Sam smirked.

"Shut up!" You giggled, and he laughed with you, the sound echoing off the tiny cluttered walls. You couldn't help yourself. You slowly leaned forward, making your intentions perfectly clear and captured his lips in yours, kissing him slowly, but deeply.

Sam's hand reflexively came up to brush the hair out of your face, as he closed his eyes, the other hand clutching at the exposed skin of your lower back where the plaid had ridden up. You moaned into his mouth when you felt his skin come in contact with yours and your hands tugged at the hem of his T-shirt.

Sam's hands immediately cuffed your wrists, tucking them at your side, as he pulled away. You gave him a confused look, and he shook his head.

"Not like this, Y/N. Not because you feel like you have to, and certainly not because you think it's your job to make up for what happened yesterday. We'll do it only because we want to."

You wanted to tell him that he was wrong. That you were doing this because you wanted to, but he was right. Even though most of you wanted to do this, had wanted to do this since the minute you set eyes on him, there was a part of you that felt guilty about last night. Taking this next step because of any reason apart from love would be unfair to Sam, unfair to both of you.

You sighed and rolled over, but Sam's hand shot out to grip you before you completely fell over.

"Hey," he whispered softly, his face coming to nuzzle your neck. "I love you!"

"I love you too," you smiled, wondering for the umpteenth time how in the name of everything that is holy did you get so lucky?

"C'mon handsome," you slapped his back lightly, "We need to be up and about. I'll hit the showers first."

The breakfast was an awkward affair. You tried to be perfectly polite to both John and Mary, but that also made you awfully formal. John seemed to be a little surprised, and Mary seemed on edge, but it was good that Sam hadn't really seen you interact with his parents much to note the difference.

He did seem bemused at the lack of conversation though, but you had decided to hold your own in front of John. Sure the company was his, but right now, he was your boyfriend's dad and whatever image he might be harboring of you wasn't true, so you weren't going to steal looks, no. You were going to raise that chin and walk around with dignity. John Winchester could suck it.

The weirdest thing was, as formal as you were with John, Sam was even more so. Their conversation mostly revolved around the big employee shift from the head office to one in Lawrence and from Lawrence to unit 3. It seemed even more prescribed than office meetings. You tried to pay complete attention to your conversation with Mary, but snippets could still be overheard from theirs.

You gathered that there was supposed to be some big send off party in the evening for all the staff moving around. That, and the fact that January was going to be one hell of a month because of all the management changes. You didn't know whether you were excited for it, or already tired at the prospect.

It was only when Mary had disappeared into the kitchen to get more eggs that you really paid attention. It seemed that Sam was refusing to be at the party.

Later, when the two of you were out shopping, you brought it up with him.

"Why do you not want to go that party?"

"So you heard that huh?" He asked, his eyes not giving away anything.

"Yeah, I caught bits and parts," you shrugged. "So why do you not want to go?"

Sam considered for a minute, before slowly saying, "It's a campfire. I-I thought maybe you wouldn't want to go."

"Why wouldn't I?" You smirked. "Don't you want to show off your new girlfriend?"

All the worry dissipated from Sam's eyes. "Of course I want to."

The two of you spent the morning getting you some clothes. A couple tank tops and pajama shorts. That would suffice till you went to your mom's place for New Year. Despite the jokes you'd made with Dean, you paid for your own clothes.

That afternoon, Sam took you to a small but very comfortable bistro. He did all those things you knew he would, like pulling chairs, opening doors, asking you to pick what you wanted to eat instead of just picking it for you, but it still surprised you. Mark was a dick, and you shouldn't even be thinking of comparing Sam to him, but Sam's gentlemanly instincts took you by surprise anyway.

"Are you gonna tell me which embarrassing stories Dean told you about me last night?" Sam asked. His tone was light, but you could sense that he was curious.

"Just one," you winked. "Something about a failed math test."

Sam chuckled. "Of course he had to tell that!"

"He came there looking for you actually," you told him. "Thought he'd find you there. Guess, he wasn't wrong after all, was he?"

"No he wasn't." Sam smiled.

The rest of the conversation flowed easily, but you couldn't help but wonder whether Sam had something on his mind. You wanted to ask him, but you also knew that if he was ready to share, he'd do it himself. When it was time to leave and both you and Sam were in the car, he looked you deep in the eyes.

"Do you really want to go the campfire?" He asked earnestly.

"Do you?" You countered.

In that one second, he slipped. You could see through him, that he was hesitating taking you there, and for the life of you, you couldn't fathom why.

"Look, if you don't wanna go, we don't have to," you told him. "It doesn't matter whether I want to or not, because I want to spend the evening with you."

He gave you a long searching look, before you saw the resolve form in his eyes. "You want to go, so we are going."

"But-"

"Don't worry about it, okay?"

Sam's POV:

The night was very chilly, and Sam was worried about the fact that Y/N didn't have a coat. The afternoon had been relatively warm and during all the shopping it hadn't occurred to either of them to buy a coat.

Sam smiled to himself as he shrugged out of his own coat and offered it to Y/N. "Here," he said. "It's getting cold."

She grinned slyly up at him and Sam could have kissed her then and there.

"Don't go thinking you can keep this one too," he reminded her. "You already have one of mine."

"I plan to do no such thing, Sir," she looked up at him through her long lashes, making his heart skip a beat. She was doing it on purpose and that warmed his panicked heart a bit as they walked towards the backyard of the house where a huge campfire had been set up.

Sam could feel his pulse quicken the moment he saw the roaring fire. It seemed to meet the sky as the flames consumed the fuel, reducing it to red hot embers. He didn't realise he'd stopped walking till Y/N tugged at his arm.

"Sam?" She asked softly.

He resumed walking, knowing how this must look to her and he hated himself for not being completely able to assuage her insecurities. He could guess what she was thinking, that he was embarrassed to show her off in front of his staff, as if such a belief could even exist. Truth be told, Sam felt proud to be walking next to her. She was kind and charming and so very brave, and that was why he was reluctant to come to the campfire, especially with her.

She was brave, and he wasn't.

He knew he should have told her the moment she first asked, but he could also see the excitement in her eyes at the mention of the gathering. And so he didn't. He didn't tell her how excruciatingly scared he was of fire, and of having her anywhere near fire.

Scenes from the night before's nightmare flashed across his vision. The burning house, the restraining hands and the dying scream… Y/N's scream. Sam had to fight the urge to tightly grasp Y/N's hand and drag her as far away from the scene before him as possible. Hide her from his own cruel fate, but he knew his thoughts were selfish, just like his fears. He held Y/N just a little tighter.

A slap on his back pulled Sam away from his thoughts.

"Long time, no see, son!"

Sam turned around to see Bobby, and he could help the smile that spread across his lips.

"Bobby!" He exclaimed and hugged the old man. "How've you been doing?"

"Good, good! Just missing the good old days, ya know," he said, turning towards Y/N. "You must be Y/N Y/L/N, right? Jo's told us so much about you, and how talented you are."

Y/N gave him a genuine smile. "Likewise Mr. Singer. It's good to finally meet you."

Sam could see Ellen just beyond the burning stack, deep in conversation with Jo and Dean, who seemed to be sweating bullets. Sam knew it had nothing to do with the campfire and Dean's nervousness over the proposal made him smile.

Sam thought it was great that Jo was choosing to stay back in Lawrence after the shift, but he had to admit, as happy as he was for his brother, he was going to miss having her around. They made their way towards her and Jo hugged Y/N hard.

"This is my mom, Ellen," she introduced Ellen, "and my cousin Castiel."

"It's Cas," Cas shook hands with Y/N before pulling Sam into a hug. "It's great to see you Sam."

"Same, Cas," Sam smiled. He then turned to Y/N. "Cas is also an associate with the firm, Y/N."

"And my best friend," Dean piped in. He still looked pale and Sam had to control his grin.

He watched closely as Dean stepped forward and pulled Y/N into a brief hug. She too willingly wrapped her hands around his waist and whispered something in his ear and then both of them laughed. It was a private moment and Sam let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Up until this point he hadn't realized how important it was to him for Y/N to like Dean and Dean to like her back. They were the two most important people to him now. And seeing them like this made him feel relieved.

Sam watched Y/N disentangle from Dean and converse politely with Cas and Ellen and he couldn't help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world. She was doing so much for him, meeting his family, adjusting to his life especially after what had happened at the office.

He owed her the truth. She deserved to know why he didn't want her to come to the campfire.

Sam bowed his head so it was close to her ear and whispered. "Wanna get out of here?"

She gave him a questioning look which changed into a resigned one. "Sure," she smiled.

He took her hand and guided her towards the back porch. From there, the view of the campfire was clearly visible, but it was far away from eavesdropping ears. Sam led her to the creaky swing and sat down on in, pulling her besides him. She sat willingly enough, her hair swirling around her face. Sam took the stolen moment to himself as he tucked it back in its place.

"We shouldn't have come here, if you didn't want to-"

"be seen with you?" He completed, leaving her dumbstruck.

"Well yeah," she shrugged, trying to hide the hurt in her eyes.

"You really thought that was the reason, didn't you?" Sam looked at her, while she wrangled her fingers in her lap.

"You remember the other night? When I called you at 3 in the morning?"

Y/N looked up and nodded, but it was clear that this was the last thing she had expected him to say. "Yeah, I remember."

"I obviously didn't call you only because I wanted to hear your voice," he laughed mirthlessly, but she was still listening very attentively.

"I- I have trouble sleeping, Y/N. I think you know this, but when I was just an intern at WAA, my house burned down to ground. My then girlfriend, Jessica, she died in that fire." Sam looked up to see your face, expecting god knows what, but instead he found a look of utter compassion there.

"I'm sorry, Sam… I knew that, but I didn't bring it up with you because I knew you would tell me about it when you were ready."

Sam nodded. He gulped once before speaking. "I reached there in time, you know. They told me the fire had been raging on for a couple hours now and that there was no chance that she could be alive. So they didn't let me go in. I struggled and yanked against the arms holding me back, but they wouldn't give up. They didn't give up till I gave up. And you know what? She was alive in there. Somehow she was still alive. We heard her scream that one last dying scream. If only I hadn't listened to them, there was a chance that I could have saved her."

Y/N looked alarmed. "Sam… If you are trying to say that what happened to Jessica was your fault-"

"But wasn't it?" Sam countered, his voice raising off his own accord. "It was Y/N! I should never have given up. But the truth is, it's all my fault, because I was too damn scared to go into that fire."

"Sam what are you saying?" She asked in a low voice.

He took a deep breath to compose himself, before speaking again. "When I was 6 months old, my nursery caught fire." If Y/N had looked alarmed before, she was looking horrified now. Sam continued, "I of course don't remember any of it, but I have a scar on my back from where my skin was burned. I would have died… but mom… she saved me. She pulled me into her arms and took the worst of it upon herself."

"Jesus Christ, Sam," she whispered, horror struck. "How did the two of you survive?"

"Dad pulled her out," Sam said, his voice starting to break a little. "He pulled her out, and Dean saved me from the fire. Her burns weren't intensive, mostly just superficial, but she took a hit to her head because of a beam. There was severe concussion and that landed her in coma. She was there for 4 years."

"4 years?" Y/N was appalled.

"Yeah," Sam sighed. "That and years of therapy after that to get her completely on her feet like she is now. Dean practically raised me. He's been more of a parent to me that either of them actually. I owe just about everything I achieved in my life to him." It was true, and Sam was proud to admit it. Dean was there every time Sam had needed him, as a brother, as a parent and a best friend.

"What about John?"

Sam scoffed. "Every time he saw me, it reminded him of what had happened to his happy family, I guess. He drowned himself in work when mom was in the hospital… Guess he and I are not that different after all, are we?"

Her hands came to cup his face and Sam was shocked to see the tears swimming in her eyes. "Don't say that, Sam. You are a person of your own, and you are very brave."

Sam wanted to believe her, but he couldn't because that was a lie, and she needed to know that. She needed to see him for who he really was.

"Am I, Y/N?" He asked, looking away. "So I was scared of fire, so I was afraid of what had happened to mom, but that didn't give me the right to give up on my girlfriend. She could have been saved, and it's all my damn fault!"

"No Sam, it isn't. For god's sake stop saying it. You didn't give up on her. You would have given up only if you knew she was alive and you had purposely chosen to ignore that. Instead you fought for her even when everyone was convinced she was dead. The fact that she hadn't been, isn't your fault. And who knows, even if you had gone in there to rescue her, there's no saying if she would have made it or not."

"But-"

"No buts Sam," She said firmly. "The sooner you accept that it wasn't your fault, the easier this will be. And she would have wanted you to have your peace of mind. Don't you think?"

He didn't look up. Truth was, he didn't want to look into her beautiful eyes, because there would be empathy there, something he didn't think he deserved.

He felt the swing move as she stepped down and came to stand in between his legs.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that, I truly am, but I'm not going to let you be scared of fire forever."

"You don't understand," Sam shouted, looking at her wildly. "More than the fire, I am scared of you being near it, Y/N. That night, the nightmare wasn't about Jess burning, it was about you."

It happened so fast that Sam didn't have time to catch his breath, but suddenly she wasn't standing between his legs, she was climbing up his lap. Her fingers fisted in his hair as her mouth met his. There was hunger and desperation as if to prove a point to him, and as Sam pulled her against his chest, he understood it. Instead of telling him, she was trying to show it to him. She was trying to tell him that she wasn't going anywhere, that she wasn't leaving him.

She pulled back, to catch her breath, and Sam couldn't help but chase her lips, wanting to revel in the comfort she was providing, but she held her own, staring into his eyes with the passion of the burning sun.

"C'mon," she murmured, tugging at his hand, as she climbed down from his lap.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked, his voice hoarse.

She kissed their entwined hand before leading him on. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life," he said, without skipping a beat.

"Then come…"

Reader's POV:

You wanted to scream at something, at someone about how unfair it was that Sam was the one to suffer.

You looked at him once as you led him on. His white shirt was wrinkled and the top button was undone. His tie was hanging loosely and his soft, smooth hair was disheveled. To anyone who would look upon the two of you now, would have a completely different idea about what you had been up to, but one look at Sam and that idea would fall apart.

He looked scared. Scared and lost, like a small boy. You knew from every hint his body was giving that he didn't want to be here, that he didn't want you to be here, but you still dragged him towards the roaring flames.

When you were 10 feet away, Sam stopped. He looked you dead in the eyes and shook his head, pleading you to not go nearer. His eyes were terrified and beseeching. But instead, you shrugged out of his coat and tied it around your waist as you walked back towards him. The night was still cold, and the brilliant fire was a source of warmth and comfort.

You slid your arm around his waist, placing a soft kiss on his chest, and gently urged him forwards.

"You trust me," you reminded him. "I'm not going anywhere."

You could feel him take a deep, shaky breath as he stared into the fire and took the next couple of steps with you.

You stepped ahead and pulled both his hands forward, rolling the sleeves of his shirt till his elbows and lifted his hands along with yours so that the palms were facing the fire and once again stepped in front of him, so that you were shielding his body with yours.

"It's alright to feel the warmth," you told him, kissing his shoulder. "It's not going to hurt me, or you… I'm not gonna let that happen."

You could feel a lot of eyes on you. Employees, Sam's friends and family. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Dean smiling too, but the shaking hands within yours were more important right now.

You didn't know how long you stood like that, but at last the shaking stopped, Sam's pounding heart behind you, picked a more steady rhythm and you turned to look at him. He was still staring into the fire, but the expression on his face was calmer. Suddenly he looked down and offered you a small relieved smile. You were sure that your answering smile was huge.

The two of you spent the rest of the evening huddled on the ground on the same spot, not too close to the fire, but not too far either, quietly cheering for them as Dean dropped down on one knee and proposed to Jo, who sank down next to him and breathed her yes.

You softly kissed Sam, celebrating your own little victory along with theirs. When Dean and Jo came around after meeting everyone, Dean hugged both Sam and you a little harder. His hold lingered as he hugged and then surprised you by kissing you on the forehead. His eyes were shinning when he pulled back.

Sam was still quiet when you walked up to your room later that night, relinquishing his hold on you, only when he had to change. You took the bathroom and changed into you new tank top and pajama shorts. By the time you stepped out, Sam was already in bed, staring up at the fan. You slipped in between the covers besides him, snuggling up to him without a second thought.

You were proud of what he had achieved today, and the fact that he had trusted you with it. So much, that it made you want to cry.

"I sleep better with you around, you know," he said, still not taking his eyes off the fan. "That first night when you fell asleep on the sofa next to me, I didn't even realize that it was already morning. I hadn't slept that well in years."

"Well, I am glad to be of service," you muttered through a thick throat. Now was not the time to cry. "I love you, Sam."

He looked at you with shy eyes and did something you'd never have expected. He ducked his head and hid face in the hollow beneath your neck, hiding as much of him as he could manage in your arms. "I love you too, Y/N, more than I can put in words."

You hugged him a little closer, as the tears finally made their way, falling over the bridge of your nose and seeping into his hair while you made efforts to roll your eyes so Sam wouldn't know. Was it possible to love someone so much that it seemed like your heart was about to burst? Because it seemed like yours was about to. You wanted to protect Sam at all costs and it was a ridiculous notion because a man of his stature, both physically and logically did not require protection. He was powerful in his own world, but in your hands he seemed to fall apart, and that scared you. It truly scared you that you held such power over him.

So it took you a while to get your emotions under control, and manage to croak a reply. "So don't… don't put it into words."

But Sam was already asleep, breathing softly into your hair. You brushed it out of his face, and kissed his forehead once. The last thought as you closed your eyes was a promise that as long as you were around, you would never let such insane fear cross his mind, even if it was the last damn thing you did.

A/N 2: THANKS GUYS! Last time I asked for love, and y’all poured it on me. I can’t possibly tell you how thankful I am. It was a very very hard time for me. I am mostly through it, but that support meant the world! PLEASE do consider leaving some feedback this time too :) It adds years to my life! Y’all are the fucking BEST!

Add yourself here if you wanna be tagged

Or here’s my side blog @thevioletthourr. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

TTT Tags:

@sdavid09 @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @vougebandit @thevioletthourr @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @vougebandit @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @frickfracklesackles @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @holystilinski @thevioletthourr @angel-blazing @thevioletthourr @vougebandit @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @vougebandit @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @vougebandit @maddieburcham1 @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @maui137 @thevioletthourr @prairiebirdie @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @pillow223 @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @teychen01 @thevioletthourr @thevioletthourr @sams-bubblegum-bitch

#sam x reader #sam winchester x reader fluff #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester reader insert #sam winchester AU #ttt part 13 #tic tac toe part 13 #Ana writes ttt #Ana writes Sam #anawritesspn #anawrites #I'm going to bed guys cause very tired #please let me wake up to feedback #like pleaassseeeeee #q

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otojvproducts · 4 years ago

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defiancerpg-blog · 7 years ago

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Congratulations ELSIE, you have been accepted as LUPUS, THE WOLF with the faceclaim of JADE TAILOR and the POWER REPLICATION ability!

Notes from the Admins: Ellie and Tasha:

Both the apps we received for Lupus were so amazing and interesting. We had a tough decision to make because they went in very different directions, but ultimately it was your vision that we felt fit best with what we originally imagined. Oh boy, I (Ellie) certainly was hooked right from the start. You did so well in fleshing out this complex beautiful character that we had envisioned. Your headcanons and ideas were so well thought out and you put so much care and research into her that I was just blown away. I (Tasha) loved the way you wrote your bio for Lupus. I know this was sent before the application format was changed, but it was beautifully done. I love how I can see how much work you put into your application.

We also would like to formally accept your request to change her name to Ashwiyaa ‘Nyx’ Lowell.

You have 48 hours to send in your blog. If you haven’t already joined the group discord then you may do so now (if that’s your wish) [x]. Once you have turned in your blog, you will be given a role that will allow you access to the private channels regarding plots/characters. Please remember to do everything on the checklist, and also we just want to thank you for joining this roleplay. We hope your time with us will be a fun and memorable one!

OOC INFORMATION

Alias & Pronouns:

Elsie, I use she/her/hers pronouns

Age:

Timezone, Activity Level, & RP Experience:

I’m in GMT (currently southeast England, but I’m hopefully going to be moving to Scotland in a few months). My activity is going to be around 7ish out of 10 and I’ve been roleplaying for twelveish years o.O. I don’t have any accounts to link to, but I will be writing snippets on my mockblog!

BASIC IC INFORMATION

Skeleton:

Lupus

Faceclaim:

Jade Tailor or Katie Findlay

Age:

Orientation:

She’s describe herself as either pansexual or sexually fluid.

Origin:

Born to parents that originated from the small town on the shores of Lake Ontario and Detroit to parents of Native descent (and Jewish on her great-grandfather’s side), Nyx’s early years were primarily spent on the run. From what she remembers her mother telling her, she was born almost a month early in a small cabin in the woods not far from Niagara Falls. Every couple of months, they would find a new place to stay or her parents would leave her with friends for weeks at a time. After their capture in New York City, Nyx was constantly shuffled between various foster homes, group homes and even juvie a couple of times.

Nova Type:

I think her abilities would fit in Mentis the most.

Ability:

Nyx’s abilities are… complicated. The official name is ‘power replication with limited power detection’ or as she calls it ‘ability radar/spidey senses and downloading’. She is drawn to people with abilities, it’s like a weird tug that Nyx isn’t really sure how to explain (aside from 'spidey senses’. She cannot tell you what abilities they have, but she can sense if someone is a Nova or not. And like when downloading something off the internet, it takes time for Nyx to 'copy’ their ability and store it in her 'mental hard drive’. Typically this is done by just standing within ten feet of them. Should the 'connection’ be interrupted, she will only have a fraction of that ability and it causes her to have headaches should the 'download’ be slow. The other option is 'instant download’ which is achieved through direct physical contact. It will cause the other Nova to feel a sudden unease and fatigue, while Nyx suffers from nosebleeds and migraines as it’s almost like getting punched. However, that is only the beginning as once Nyx 'learns’ an ability doesn’t mean she knows how to use it or control it or even know what it is. This can make her a liability and a danger especially with potentially catastrophic abilities, not to mention that she sometimes can’t get them to work when she wants them to or when she is angry they will flare up. Unfortunately, it doesn’t mean that she remembers what abilities she has absorbed. It’s kind of like putting them in a box which get put in an attic where it is easily forgotten and in order to be used, it has to be searched for. To help with this she has a literal physical written list of abilities she has absorbed and is aware of. Certain abilities are triggered by specific thoughts/feelings which are written next to those abilities. Some she has remembered, but it gives her peace of mind to have it.

When using her abilities, Nyx’s eyes will turn completely black and a strange black energy (like the negative of a bright image) will appear around her fingers or objects when certain abilities are used. Biography:

Complicated. Meaning: consisting of many interconnecting parts or elements; intricate. Synonyms include: complex, intricate, tangled, knotted and thorny.

If there was ever a word to describe you and the life you’ve lived. From the day you were born, you’ve had to fight. Born too early to parents that wanted a better world and didn’t know of any other way to get it then through violence. For so long, they had been unheard. Then they found others who felt just like them. They banded together for alone we are week, but together we are strong. Now they would make the world listen; they would make the system scared of them as they had been scared for generations. For the first time, they had the advantage and they were going to use it.

You barely remember what life was like before: always on the move, staying with family friends while your parents were away for weeks on end. You know that they loved you though and you can’t help but think that that only makes it so much worse.

It all changed in just a little more than two minutes. Those minutes will forever be engraved in your memory, haunting your dreams and thoughts like a plague. It starts with glass breaking, then smoke, the door breaking down, yelling (so much yelling), something heavy hitting the wall, gunshots. You cover your ears, it’s so loud. Tears roll down your cheeks as you press yourself into the corner, stuffed wolf clutched to your chest. You so desperately want to close your eyes but you can’t.

A gun turns towards you; familiar arms wrap around your small frame. Apples, she always smelled like apples.

Another shot rings.

And for the first time ever, you hear your father scream.

Criminals; terrorists; monsters; that’s what the world calls them but you never saw them that way. You saw your mother, who you look so much like, humming a half forgotten Ojibwe song as paper cranes floated around you heads. And your father, with his eyes so much like yours standing in the doorway with a soft smile on his face that never could reach his eyes.

Your memories fade, the happier ones that is. When you recall them now, it’s like looking through a fog. Some flashes are clear and others you aren’t even sure if that is what truly happened. The world however refuses to forget. Not only that, but it warps the memories. History is after all written by the victors.

Instead of moving from place to place with kind people at the door, instead all you know is cold. With each new placement, you pray it is different, but all it takes for someone to find out you’re Nova or just whose child you are. Still you try. You try so hard to show you are good, that you’re not like them. And yet at each and every turn, it’s like getting slapped in the face when all your effort turns to ash.

You cry when you find out you are more like your father then you thought and you hide it for as long as you can. You have his eyes, his abilities and soon his anger. Though you hate it, you can understand why they did what they did. With each disappointment, the anger builds, forming a wall inside you so that it’s harder to be hurt, harder to be cared for.

If he had put his mind to it, you have no doubt that your father could destroy the world. And if the world has taught you anything, it’s that you are your father’s daughter.

They see you as a monster and so they treat you like one. Is it so hard to understand why you began to believe it? Why you acted like one?

You always hold back, but you won’t be a victim anymore. You were raised better, you are better. And you would rather have that then be seen as weak. You don’t start the fights, but you end them. Some places have hidden demons and you run as far away as you can before you are forced to do something. They always find you though. In the end, you are always caught and dragged screaming away.

After years of grey walls and icy people, you are finally old enough to no longer be a ward of the state. But just because you are 'free’ doesn’t mean it’s better now. The day you register, the Warden just smiles at you in a way that sends a shiver up your spine. His words haunt you: 'I’ll be seeing you soon’. Two days later, it’s the anniversary of that horrible horrible day and you see people celebrate. As soon as you have the money saved, you get your biotag replaced with a clean one on the black market. But not before you cut out the old one and make it explode. It hurt and scars, but it was so worth it. The next day you are as far away as you can get.

You find yourself drifting, never staying in one place for long, hiding in plain sight. The days blur together, turning into weeks, then months and finally years. At the back of your mind, you feel the urge to join the Watchdogs. After all, your parents had been part of the inner circle and you had stayed with some of them. Eventually you push the thought away. They didn’t care, hell they didn’t even look for you. For so long you live like a shadow, content in your lonely life. For the first time, you are free from the cloud that is your parents’ name but you cannot run from your abilities. So you stay away from people, away from the cities, the asshole Wardens, the world in general. You don’t want to chance it, not that you ever had a chance in their world. Not with your name, you abilities, hell even with your bought biotag. Still, you can pretend you are someone else and maybe find some peace. Lonely peace, but at least some. That’s more than you can say for your parents. Then the bullshit Nova Protection Act came through. You were walking through some street a couple of months after it passed through out of necessity (God knows you sure as shit didn’t want to be in the city) when you saw it: a Warden dragging off a screaming kid to a truck while her mother tried to get to her child. Another Warden smacked her across the face, sending her to the ground. So many people watched and no one did anything. They just stood there like sheep as this woman still tried to fight against the armed man. Images flash before your mind: your mother screaming, you fighting against the Warden holding you as they dragged your father away.

In that second you realize that you’ve become a sheep. These four years have made you exactly what you hate. And it’s time to wake up.

The next few minutes are chaos. The sheep scatter, the Wardens lay crumpled on the ground and the child was in her mother’s arms. You told them to run and she thanked you. You can’t remember the last time that happened. It sparked something in you. For the first time you felt alive. You left the Wardens alive, but you did damage them a bit and their car was a smouldering ruin by the time you got away. Strange how you’ve followed in your parents’ footsteps: through foster homes, group homes, never staying in one place for long. It isn’t surprising that you’re labeled a fugitive.

It wasn’t long after that you found Yalena. She offered to help you to a safehouse but you refused. You had been sitting idle for far too long and you weren’t going to now. No, you were going to fight. It’s what you’re good at.

After all, maybe the world doesn’t need another hero, sometimes it needs a monster. And if you can save others from what was done to you, to your parents, what’s being done to innocents? Then you’ll be that monster.

Connections:

I imagine that Nyx’s relationship with Dinah is, like much of her life, complicated. There is so much potential between them and they could be amazing friends if only Nyx would give her the chance. She’s so envious of her because she’s so kind in spite of everything while she’s turned into what she is. She’s capable of things that she truly believes that she herself cannot give nor receive. If Nyx could, she would let her in, but she’s forced herself to be so guarded that she cannot help but think that there’s an angle behind Dinah’s kindness. After all, she must have an ulterior motive because why would she be nice to her

Even before, it was much the same. If she had met Dinah a little while before, her life might have been so different. Yet by then, she had given up any hope that someone might care about her and would’ve thought that Dinah should stop acting that way and 'grow up.’ She probably would have been a lot ruder and harsh towards her, but not cruel. A part of her would have been worried because it was only a matter of time before her spark died just like Nyx’s did.

With a little bit of time and especially if Dinah taught Nyx how to use her abilities, I see her opening up? Like going from not really enemies to like super super close? I kind of imagine that Dinah would be a calming presence and would be able to convince Nyx/hold her back from doing stupid reckless things. Plus I may have been stalking the Magicians tag and am totally going to reblog some gifsets cause they are literally perfect??? <3.<3 (kk I’m done rambling about them now I promise!)

For Leo, she’d be like 'ugh whatever’. Like she grates on Nyx’s nerves but she doesn’t really care? She pretty much just thinks of her as another asshat that thinks they know her when they know jack. Plus she would not appreciate being ordered around by her and acting like she’s better when they are all the same and want the same thing.

I’d love a partner in crime for her though? Someone that she’s kind of drawn to and they work well together? I imagine that they’re both fighters and tend to be at the front lines. Also maybe like a sibling figure? Someone who she kind of sees herself in a bit and just kind of connects to?

Changes:

I’d like to change her name to Ashwiyaa ‘Nyx’ Lowell

DETAILED IC INFORMATION

(Optional Stuff; This is all merely suggestions, none of it is required)

Headcanons + Chara Tropes + etc (up in a few): https://mockblognyx.tumblr.com/headcanons Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/elsieswriting/nyx/ Also I’m going to be posting graphics, ideas and such on the mock blog ;)

ANYTHING ELSE?

I’m going to be changing my url to 'mockblognyx’ cause having it 'misty’ is just confusing XP

Also I am so so so sorry for the rambling and the length O.o

#defianceacceptance

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markwatkinsconsumerguide · 6 years ago

Photo

Consumer Guide / No.87 / Top Of The Pops LPs archivist & blogger Terry Wilson with Mark Watkins.

MW : Tell me about your background...

TW : I grew up in Aylesbury, and from as early as I can remember, I loved music - and it was these very Top of the Pops LPs which were the earliest I had, bought for me as presents when I was four or five, and spun on an old mono Dansette. Little did I know, the LPs were being pressed in a small plant five minutes from where I lived (I found that out about forty years later!).

I guess Top of the Pops started me on the road to what would become quite a serious record collecting habit, and a love of music generally. I went on to play in a number of unsuccessful bands, before taking up music writing (plug: Tamla Motown - The Stories Behind The UK Singles). I'm now 50, and live in Sussex with my wife and child, and although I completed my Top of the Pops vinyl collection years ago, I still splash out on the odd rarity or overseas pressing when I see it. The overseas ones especially fascinate me, although I'm no longer able fill my home with records, like I did in my bachelor days.

MW : When & why did you set up your Top of the Pops website?

TW : The project started around 1999, and I knew nothing about web design at that point. I'd started collecting the series (as an adult, that is - my childhood LPs were long gone), but this was when the internet was still in its infancy - nothing like we have today. For example, there was no such thing as a Top of the Pops LP discography, so I had no idea how many I needed, what the catalogue numbers were, or what the LP sleeves looked like.

The website project actually began as an Excel spreadsheet, where I started listing the volume numbers, catalogue numbers and so on. A few of the albums had gotten into the LP charts back in the 1970s, so the relevant chart books were consulted and provided a few more snippets - that's how hard it was to find anything out before the internet, young people. That listing gradually expanded to the point where I thought I'd try my hand at making a website, which was a steep learning curve for me. I guess it went online around 2005.

MW : How have you developed the site since its beginnings?

TW : The first site I made was quite different to the current one. The technology was much more clunky, and the pages were all out of line. It wasn't great, but at least gave me a grounding in web design, so I knew what I needed to do. I made the decision around 2008 to re-invent it using a different host, whose layouts I much preferred, and that's where it still lives today. From my perspective, the website was more than just a space to write up and organise the discography; it was also a forum for research. I've lost count of the number of kind people who've contacted me through the site, and given me information, photos and even records over the years.

A Russian collector, for example, used to send me Top of the Pops records from the old Soviet Union, pressed on flexi-disc and coloured vinyl - I'd never even have known about them otherwise. Plus, every new discovery meant a new page for the site, and whole new sections came into being - it has expanded to the point where it's now quite vast. It's because of the size of the site that I started a blog (http://copycatcovers.blogspot.com) where I could flag up new discoveries which might otherwise not get noticed - not just Top of the Pops, but across the whole genre of what I call copycat cover versions.

MW : How do you store and maintain all your vinyl?

TW : I'd love to say I have a dedicated room with security cameras and temperature control - but in reality I store my collection in a humble way on ordinary shelves.

I used to have them in a series of proper LP cases, but they became unwieldy, so I took them out again. Just having them stacked vertically away from undue heat or humidity is all the care they need. The more precious ones are in heavy-duty protective covers, but I don't go to great lengths to look after them, or treat them like precious jewels.

They rarely encounter a record deck, though, as I got together with a few fellow collectors some years back, and between us we digitised the whole set - so the vinyl can stay safely inside the sleeves while I listen to MP3s. The rarer tape editions in my collection are less hardy than the vinyl, so they are housed in protective cases and kept in a safe place.

MW : What are your views on these kinds of LPs - in the sense that they were once seen as cheap and cheesy - until The Mike Flowers Pops lounge music revival in 1995…

TW : There's a part of me that sees them exactly as you describe - cheap and cheesy - but there's another part of me, which I guess is the dominant voice in my head, which sees them as creative fun. It's important to remember these are not compilation albums. The making of them required a band to go into a studio, red light running against the clock, and capture track after track after track - and in this way, the original 'Top of the Poppers' group recorded around 70 full LPs in ten years - by any measure, that's dedicated musicianship, arranging and singing. I can't think of any band in history with such a prolific work rate. I once wrote a tongue-in-cheek article in which I argued these were the most important albums ever made, and by the end of it, I'd almost convinced myself! Two of them even made Number 1 in the UK album charts. That's two more than Frank Zappa, The Velvet Underground, The Doors, Jimi Hendrix, etc…

MW : Do you search charity shops and similar for these albums? Your best finds? Any missing?

TW : My UK collection is essentially complete, and has been for a few years - so I no longer hunt them down. For better or worse, I'm past the point where I still find anything I need in charity shops. Overseas releases are a different matter. I buy them when I can, but I probably have more missing than I will ever know. (To my knowledge, I am the only person who's ever researched them.)

When I was buying the UK albums, charity shops and car boot sales were my main source, and I frequented them religiously - there was Ebay, of course, but it costs a lot more to have an LP posted to you than to chance upon it for 25p in a charity shop - so I held out and gradually finished the set. My best find was probably Volume 90 - I'd never seen it, and I was killing time in a town in West Sussex when I had a rummage in a junk shop and found it for pennies. Back then, Ebay was around, but the number of sellers was a fraction of what it is today. On the very rare occasions something like Volume 90 or Volume 91 turned up, they would command prices in the £100 bracket - and that's no exaggeration. (I thereby learned I was not the only one collecting them!)

But most of my truly astonishing finds have been via the internet. I'll never forget discovering one of the LPs had been issued in Argentina, and I bought it immediately. When it arrived, I slipped it out the sleeve to find it was pressed on starburst multi-coloured vinyl. Amazing! And still it goes on - just last year I chanced upon a UK release, a double album of disco tracks by The Poppers, which I'd never even heard of! You never know what will show up next.

MW : Tell me about some of the famous (now) but not famous (then) musicians who started their careers off doing Top of the Pops cover versions...

TW : It would be great to say a succession of stellar names cut their recording teeth on these Top of the Pops albums, but in truth, there aren't that many examples. Those who know about the cover version sub-industry (and Top of the Pops was only one LP series among many) immediately think of Elton John. He did record a good number of anonymous cover versions in the late-1960s for labels like Avenue, Marble Arch and Music For Pleasure, but only one for Top of the Pops - ‘Snake In The Grass’, issued on Volume 5 (which is, consequently, worth a few pounds).

It's frustrating that the session men and women are largely unknown to this day, but a couple more famous names can be confirmed. Tina Charles, for example, who had success with her hit, ‘I Love To Love’, can be heard singing ‘Stand By Your Man’ on Volume 45, while well-known singer Laura Lee performs ‘The Man Who Sold The World’ on Volume 36. We might also mention Elvis Costello's dad, Ross McManus, who sang on more than one LP - including the same Volume 5 which Elton was on. Rumours that David Bowie appears on some are probably not true, but who really knows?

MW : What are your favorite album covers...why?

TW : It may seem paradoxical, but I've never really been a fan of the album covers. There are many collectors of the 'cheesecake' sleeve genre, but I'm not one of them. Mostly, I find them amusing, with the ridiculous poses and whacky clothing - they are sometimes described accusingly as soft porn, but I think that's taking them too seriously. Maybe they were considered more shocking back in the day, but there's one in particular, Volume 8 - in which the model sports a fur bikini! Can you think of a more absurd garment?

I like the quasi-psychedelic cover of Volume 16 but my favourite is probably the ultra-hideous Volume 22 - one of the ones I had when I was a kid. That's famous actress, Nicola Austin, in what can only be described as a roll-neck leotard, capped off with matching sailing hat! We should give a shout-out to Bill Graham, a designer for Pickwick Records, who came up with the iconic sleeve design in 1968. Even into the mid-1980s, when models like Sam Fox and Linda Lusardi were by then appearing on the covers, the design was essentially unchanged. He came up with a classic.

MW : What are your long term plans for the site / collection?

TW : The site continues to grow, every time another record comes to my attention. One area I never did get into was reviews of the LPs. I would have, but a fellow enthusiast, called Tim Joseph, has been preparing a book about them for years, and I didn't want to tread on his toes, so to speak. It's something I might do one day though. As for my collection, I don't know what will become of it! I have some bona-fide rarities in my possession - autographed sleeves, advance promo copies, a genuine gold disc award, and numerous overseas pressings, one of which accidentally includes a real hit recording by Elton - don't ask me how that happened, but so far as I am aware, the album is unknown to his fans and collectors. If they found out about it, they might make me some handsome offers! But who, besides, me, would really want the rest of it?

I doubt I will ever sell my collection, so I guess I'll keep it until I shuffle off this mortal coil, then what will become of it, I don't know. I could offer it to a museum, but I fear they would die laughing! In a sense, I feel I've done my bit in preserving the LP series by photographing, cataloguing and documenting it all - at one point I actually lent some records back to Pickwick so they could make digital versions of some they couldn't locate - and so they were my copies, loaded up globally to iTunes. It's a honour for me, and that's reward enough.

MW : Away from the website, what are your other interests?

TW : I've always had many interests to pursue - I have what's sometimes called the collector's gene.

So when I'm not mulling the small print of old record sleeves, I might be cataloguing every Aston Villa football card ever printed, or compiling a collection of every King George VI postage stamp.

I tend to go for ambitious projects - all or nothing - so when I wrote my Tamla Motown book, for example, I researched and wrote up every single 45 they ever released - a mammoth task which had to be squeezed between building websites, playing football, playing in a band - and also, a full-time job (Special mention here to my patient wife!). I've always had in interest in writing. I used to work as a journalist and edited a few magazines.

These days, much of my spare time is consumed with mixing and remixing music on pc. It's great fun, and the technology is so freely available, anyone can do it.

MW : What's to see and do in the area you live in?

TW : I grew up in the countryside, and moved down to Brighton in my 20s. It's a place I still love - so much going on all the time with bands, nightlife, festivals and so on - but one way or another, I've ended up back in a village.

Life here is quiet, and the village is a bit other-worldly - which is fine - but very different from the pace of city life. Cars will actually pull up to a stop in the middle of the road, if someone's waiting to cross!

The village has its own events - an annual village day, a dedicated fireworks society and various arts’ groups, which I take a passing interest in. Fortunately, there's also a choice of good pubs.

MW : How do you intend to spend the summer holidays?

TW : I have no plans yet for the coming summer - which is leaving it late, to say the least. I quite like the idea of getting a last-minute deal and flying off to who-knows-where, but I'm not sure what we'll do. I get bored easily and like to have things to do and see, whereas my wife likes to lay in the hot sun and do nothing. So, we find things which work for both of us. Last year we headed down to Cornwall to a seaside resort and went out on a few adventures, so it worked for both of us. This year, who knows?

http://topofthepopslps.weebly.com/

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ahrorha · 5 years ago

Text

Flame of Winter

Chapter 25

The forests of the Arbor Wilds were vast, wild and humid. It had been days since they had entered the Wilds in pursuit of Corypheus and his red templars. They were following the trail of burned down camps and traces of ambushes left by Leliana's people in an effort to slow Corypheus down. Finally, after seeing nothing but trees, strange birds and vast fields of mushrooms, there were signs that they were nearing their goal, the Temple of Mythal.

Riding her hart Eirlana was in awe, these forests were old, very old. To her left and right were busted statues, fallen pillars and crumbled walls hidden between the trees and plants. They marked the overgrown and broken road they currently followed. As they saw more and more remnants of elven architecture, she began to realise how vast this complex must have been. She glanced at Solas, who rode next to her. It was strange to think that he probably had once walked these very same roads. It must be hard for him to return here and see everything fallen into ruins.

It had been three weeks since they had left Skyhold, and although it had been hard on her to travel, it had also been good for her. The travelling gave her time to breath, to shake away the nightmares that had occupied her mind. Though the grief and the loss she felt was still raw, it wasn't longer crushing her.

The journey gave her time to think about the things that had happened. She also tried to put the events of the past in the right context. She knew only fragments of the life the Elvhen people had lived in the time of Elvhenan. They were whispers and snippets of memory in the Fade and the things she had learned of Ghi'lan, her teacher. Since her encounter with Falon'Din, her perspective had changed. What once were faint echoes of the past were becoming a reality. The rulers of a world, where magic had been endless, were still alive. They had dominated Thedas as immortal beings and had ruled with absolute power until they vanished.

She knew that the legends and whispers blamed Fen'Harel for the disappearance of the Elvhen Gods and the fall of the Elvhen empire. The stories said that Fen'Harel had locked the Gods away, and retreated to the Fade after his deed was done.

She had always wondered what really had happened back then, but the memories in the Fade were faint and hard to find. Often they were chaotic and fragmented, twisted by fear, anger and desperation. It didn't help either that she had been a slave most of her life. Back then, when she travelled with her Mater, there had always been the pressure of finding something useful to him. She hadn't been able to explore the Fade freely; with her being forcefully thrown in and pulled out of the Fade. It was like she had only seen slivers of a complex story. Echoes of destruction, and memories of desperate elves. Elves that were angry and distraught because their magic was failing or fearful as they suddenly were ageing. She heard their calls of help to their Gods and cursing Fen'Harel for what he had done.

Although she had spent days on end in the Fade as a child, she hadn't grasped her abilities back then. The Fade was her playground, a place where she was safe, a place free of hunger and pain. Only after she had met Ghi'lan this changed, he taught her about magic and how to survive and manipulate the Fade. He also told her stories of Elvhenan, she learned about the Elvhen people and the Evanuris that ruled over them. She learned that life had been far from ideal for the Elvhen people. Although there were magical marvels, wealth and prosperity, there were also wars, slavery and oppression. She would spend hours listening to him as a child, he was patient with her and would answer her questions. But whenever she would ask him what had happened to the elves, his answers were vague and cryptic. Now, she was older, she wondered if he couldn't or just wouldn't give her the answer.

Since Solas had freed her, she hadn't thought about discovering the ancient past. Being free for the first time she had spent her time in the Fade more casual. Not longer taking lyrium, she had explored more of the local memories that were easier to find. Although she had never forgotten her questions about Elvhenan, there had never been a rush to find the answer. She had always thought she had the time and that she would find the truth someday in the future, when she wouldn't constantly be travelling or fighting against a corrupted magister.

And now she had the feeling she was running out of time. Legends were turning into reality, and the past that had become twisted and tangled was slowly unravelling before her eyes.

The existence of Solas, Falon'Din and a third Evanuris had her wondering; who and what else had survived. What were their plans? And why were they resurfacing now?

The longer she thought about them, the more uneasy she felt about what the future would bring.

One thing she knew for sure, Solas was here for a reason. It hadn't been a coincidence he wanted to reach the conclave. Back then, he had been in a hurry.

Had he known Corypheus would be there?

Was he somehow involved?

Had he known about the foci?

What she did know was that the explosion at the conclave hadn't been part of his plan. At least that was what she hoped.

Looking at Solas, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling. What if she was wrong?

Solas noticed her staring at him. “Are you alright?”

“...Yes.”

“We should reach the base camp soon, and hopefully, you can rest there.”

Eirlana knew he was worried about her, and she felt guilty that she had those doubts about him. How could she think he would willingly kill all those people at the conclave? Shaking those dark thoughts away, she smiled at him. “I feel fine, don't worry.”

Solas reached out and caressed her arm. To his relief, she was recovering well even with them being on the road. Slowly she was returning to her former self, and although she wasn't as open towards him as before, she was beginning to talk more to him and the others. Still, he could feel a distance between them that hadn't been there before.

He could sense the sadness and guilt she was feeling in her grief; the fear left by her trauma. But, to his relief, they weren't overpowering her any longer. What he couldn't place was the periods of confusion and doubt she experienced, and he wondered what was causing them.

His hart snorted and reared its head as he rode to close to Varric riding in front of him. Backing off, he turned his eyes back on the road. He spotted Ryan riding a short distance in front of him, and he automatically narrowed his eyes.

It was ironic that Ryan had chosen him and Eirlana to accompany him with his growing distrust about their stability as mages. But on the other hand, he also distrusted Dorian, and Vivienne had probably some important political task to fulfil. Of course, Ryan's suspicions about them were utterly absurd, and a glaring proof how incompetent and wrong the humans views about magic was with their Chantry's and templar's.

He glared at the templar armor Ryan so proudly wore. The longer he worked with the man, the more he began to despise him and his decisions. His detest grew even deeper when he thought back at how Ryan had ordered Eirlana to come with them, totally ignoring the fact that she was still recovering. Solas knew the only reason Ryan wanted her here was because of her abilities. It was sickening to think that he may demand from her to use her skills for his own gain. Skills for which she was abused for in the past. Not to mention that Ryan would most likely trample all over the Temple of Mythal, that harboured secrets that shouldn't fall into human hands. Solas sighed in frustration as they drew closer to their goal. He felt reluctant to return here, too many of his memories were connected to these holy grounds. He had often visited Mythal here, but it was also the place where she was betrayed and murdered. A sense of bitterness, anger and sorrow filled him when he thought back at how he and some of Mythal's confidants had found her destroyed body and her Temple plundered. Now he was returning here again, to the place where he had failed to protect his dearest and closest friend.

“You should stay behind.” Solas said while checking his equipment.

They had reached the Inquisitions main camp and were readying themselves for combat. In the distance, the sounds of battle could already be heard, where Cullen's troops had engaged the Venatori and red templars.

Eirlana fidgeted with her gloves. “I want to go. I am alright.”

He could see she was anxious. “No, you are not.” he brushed her cheek. “You are not yourself since Imshael captured you, and I don't expect you to be. You suffered a great loss and need rest and time to recover, not another battle.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears away that threatened to escape. Stepping forward, she leaned against him, and he took her softly into his arms. She knew she was worrying him and hurting him by being so distant. But the more she was accepting the fact that he was Fen'Harel, the more she feared to tell him that she knew.

“I am sorry.” she mumbled against his chest.

“Vhenan, don't be.” he pressed a kiss on her head. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I know.” she exhaled and looked up at him. “But you know where we are.”

His expression grew more serious. “I do.”

“Do you really want them to trample over of what is left from...” She hesitated for a fraction. “from what Mythal was to the People.”

Solas moved slightly backwards but kept his arms around her, he found her choice of words strange.

“You know how Ryan is, Solas.” she continued looking at him. “And I don't want him to foolishly stumble upon something he doesn't understand. If Corypheus is of any example, we need to keep powerful artefacts from falling into the wrong hands.”

He averted his eyes, knowing it was his fault that Corypheus had his orb. Taking a long breath, he sighed. “Alright, but stay close to me. You are not yet well enough to fight.”

“I promise.” she smiled slightly.

She didn't know what they would find at the Temple, but she knew it had a connection with Solas' past. She had noticed that he was unusually quiet about the upcoming mission. It was so unlike him, to refrain from giving his opinion. She had also noticed he was avoiding Ryan and Morrigan, and their speculations about Mythal, her Temple and the eluvian.

Determined to find out more, she grabbed her staff and walked towards Iron Bull, Cassandra and Morrigan. They all were waiting for Ryan to finish talking with, now Emperor, Gaspard. She heard Gaspard boasting that the battle was a worthy hunt, as if it was a joke that the soldiers risked their lives to carve them a path to Corypheus. It sickened her to hear them laughing. Didn't they care for the loss of life and the destruction they brought to this place? She wondered what they would do if elves still had lived here. Would they also hunt them like a horrid sport? Would they trample and crush on that what remained?

One thing was certain something powerful had survived until this age. There was magic tingling in the air, and it had steadily grown stronger as they came nearer the Temple. It was reacting to their presence, and judging by Morrigan's demeanour, she wasn't the only one who was aware of it.

“Let's go!” Ryan commanded and marched towards the sounds of battle.

The forest was old and dense. The floor was covered with thick patches of fallen leaves, mouldy wood and mushrooms. Their feet sunk into the soft ground as they hurried along the twisted path, passing through huge hollowed out trees. Flocks of colourful birds flew up as they passed through the thick green underbrush. Along the way, they ran into small skirmishes between the Inquisitions forces and red templars. Soon they reached a river with remnants of elven architecture, but Eirlana had no time to study them, because a group of red templars was awaiting them.

Eirlana tried to keep herself out of the combat as she promised, but as a behemoth came lumbering from behind the ruins, she felt herself automatically casting an ice spell to freeze the creature. She was startled when the spell manifested itself almost instantly, freezing the creature solid.

What was happening to her?

Ever since she had awoken, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had somehow changed. She couldn't pinpoint what it was, but she felt somehow different. At first, she had thought it was because of her wounds, but she was now almost completely healed. What remained was that her body felt foreign to her.

She didn't know exactly what Falon'Din had done to her or why he had helped her at all. She doubted it was out of kindness or the goodness of his heart. Whatever the reason, he had cured her and changed her in the process.

Even if she ignored the feeling of her body, she knew her magic had most definitely changed. She always had a strong affinity with the Fade, but not like this. Her dreams had become more vivid, with the Fade responding quicker and more fluently than ever before. Even when awake, it felt like she was closely connected with the realm beyond the Veil. This connection fuelled her magic like nothing she had experienced before. It was like she had tapped into a new well of energy, and she didn't know its origin nor its limitations.

Now with her casting for the first time in combat again, the difference was even more apparent. Her magic manifested easier and with more power than before. It was almost like when she had cast her first spells outside of the Fade, when she didn't know how to control her power. She needed to be careful.

The battle was swift and merciless, and soon the lifeless bodies of their enemies lay on the ground. To their surprise they found Grey Wardens among them, probably the last that remained from the mages Corypheus had enslaved at Adamant.

Why had Corypheus brought them out here, Eirlana wondered as they moved on.

“Over there, another red templar encampment.” Ryan proclaimed. “Mages take care of the archers on the wall. Iron Bull and Cassandra you are with me.”

He rushed forward, bashing his shield against a red templar knight, almost running him over. Iron Bull and Cassandra sprinted past him, engaging the red templar shadows before they would disappear into the shadows.

Staying behind Solas and Morrigan, Eirlana cringed when Ryan labelled them as mages. Why wasn't he using their names? Quickly she threw her barriers around everyone so Solas and Morrigan could focus on their offensive spells.

The battle was progressing straight forward when suddenly Solas turned around and pulled Eirlana roughly behind him. Stumbling, she looked over her shoulder where out of nowhere an elf materialised with his daggers drawn. Solas moved his staff quick and efficient, blocking the attack. The strange elf swiftly spun around trying to land a hit with his blades, but Solas moved fluently along, easily keeping himself and her out of harm's way. She had never seen him move like that before, he moved like he knew how the elf would attack.

More elves appeared, attacking the others. “Katara Bas! They fight like a hurricane!” Iron Bull grunted, and Ryan exclaimed “Maker, take you!” as everyone changed targets.

Summoning magical energy Solas blasted the elf backwards.

”Leave us. We are not your enemy.” he called out, but the elf didn't even flinch and jumped to the left to strike again.

Not having any other choice Solas summoned a stone fist to punch the elf backwards. This was the first time he had to fight against one of the People with only a simple staff as his weapon. He wished he could pick up a blade himself and deal with the attacker more swiftly, but that would betray too much of his past. Where in Thedas would a simple apostate have learned to wield a blade like a warlord?

As sudden as the elves had appeared, they disappeared again into the shadows.

“Everyone alright?” Ryan asked wiping sweat from his brow.

“It seems the Temple of Mythal is not abandoned after all.” Morrigan remarked. “It is likely that these creatures are the reason few return from the Arbor Wilds.”

Ryan shouldered his shield. “Who were they? They seem... odd.”

“Indeed. Two things are possible.” Morrigan explained. “One, this is a group of Dalish separated from their brethren. Cultists. Fanatic in their desire to keep humans away. Two, these are elves descended from the ancients, having resided here since before the fall of Arlathan. The second appears unlikely, but if true, the implications are astounding.”

“Whatever is the case we can't let them stop us from getting to Corypheus.” Ryan grunted and walked further down the path.

Looking at one of the fallen elves Eirlana hesitated for a moment. The elf's features were sharp, and his skin tone wasn't like any she had ever seen, pale almost greenish in colour. Like the elf hadn't seen sunlight in ages. His vallaslin was greenish golden and more intricate then the markings the Dalish wore. They were clad in elegant armor, forged from an unknown metal that shimmered golden in the sunlight.

No, Eirlana thought, these are no descendants. There was only one place she had seen such vallaslin and such armor before, and that was in the Fade. These were ancient elves, awakened from uthenera by their presence.

They rushed forward, past remnants of bridges and outer buildings that were decorated with broken murals and overgrown statues. It was strange Eirlana thought, for being a place of worship of Mythal there were a lot of statues representing the other Evanuris. Whatever this place once was, it was connected to all of them.

After more encounters with red templars, they finally reached the Temple. Eirlana faltered when she saw the four giant Fen'Harel statues, that stood at the Temple's entrance. They had a place of honour, guarding the gates of Mythal's sanctuary. Although she had seen statues of Fen'Harel at other temples before, it had been nothing like this. She wondered what his connection with Mythal was. Frustrated that she didn't know more, she hoped, once they had dealt with Corypheus, she would get the opportunity to dream here and explore the Fade.

Hurrying along a long archway, they heard fighting up ahead. Ryan signalled for them to slow down, and they carefully sneaked onto a platform that was littered by red templar and Venatori corpses. To their left and right, the outer walls of the Temple fanned out encircling a big lake. A good distance from its shore, the water suddenly plummeted into the depths, creating a giant circular waterfall. In its centre, the Temple of Mythal arose.

Below them, the ground was covered with more corpses of Venatori and elves.

A group of elves, guarding the bridge leading to the Temple, was facing Corypheus. A woman stood at Corypheus' side with his remaining troops, a couple of Grey Wardens were among them.

“Na melana sur, Banallen!” the leader of the elves called out.

“The wretch mocks you, Master.” the woman sneered.

Corypheus paced forward. “These are but remnants. They will not keep us from the Well of Sorrows.”

As he stepped forward, two statues of Mythal standing next to the bridge began to glow with magical energy. Corypheus hesitated for a moment but resumed his path. “Be honoured! Witness death at the hands of a new god!”

Powerful magic shot out from the statues, engulfing Corypheus. To the horror of the elves, he kept moving and grabbed the leader by his throat. It appeared the magic wasn't affecting Corypheus at all. Then his flesh began to melt and drip to the ground. It was consuming him and disintegrating his body. The magical energy kept building power until it suddenly exploded, throwing back a part of Corypheus' troops as well as the elven guardians, killing them. The light of the explosion blinded Ryan and the others. As the smoke cleared, they saw the woman and the remaining troops crossing the bridge and disappearing into the Temple.

On their guard, they all moved towards the bridge, carefully stepping through the carnage the explosion had left behind.

“Did Corypheus just die?” Ryan asked in disbelief, looking around, searching for any trace left of him.

Eirlana felt uneasy, something wasn't right. Corypheus followers weren't acting like their leader had just died. Suddenly she felt a foul energy gathering behind her. Whirling around, she gasped as one of the corpses of the Grey Wardens started to move. It grunted and spasmed, blackened blood spew from its mouth like a geyser. They all stepped back when the body began to twist and turn black. All of a sudden new arms shot out from the blackened mass, and Corypheus' body slowly rose.

“It cannot be!” Morrigan exclaimed in disbelief.

“Across the bridge. Now!” Ryan yelled, and they all ran.

Glancing behind her Eirlana saw the blackened figure of Corypheus rose and watching them. A familiar roar sounded above them. Corypheus' dragon plunged out of the sky, firing its corrupting fire breath. They all ran as fast as they could through the open doors of the Temple and quickly pushed them shut, hoping it would give them some protection against the beast. They made it just in time, and the doors magically sealed themselves, locking out Corypheus and his dragon. For the time being, they were safe.

After the constant battle, the courtyard of the Temple lay strangely peaceful before them. The area was totally overgrown and adorned with several statues of Mythal. Looking around Eirlana also spotted a couple of wolven statues, Fen'Harel was even represented here. What had been their relationship, she wondered again.

There were no signs of the Venatori, apart from a few corpses, nor of the guardians of the Temple. Ryan ran across the square, up the stairs, towards the next doors leading deeper into the Temple, but they were magically sealed shut. Frustrated, he kicked against them.

Abruptly he turned towards Morrigan. “You said Corypheus wanted an eluvian, but he talked about the 'Well of Sorrows.' What is it?”

Morrigan scratched her head. “I am uncertain of what he was speaking.”

“Of course you are.” Ryan snapped. “Are they the same? Is eluvian another name for it?”

“No, it seems an eluvian is not the prize Corypheus seeks.” Morrigan snapped back. “But whatever this Well is, Corypheus is after it, and thus you must keep it from his grasp.”

“What I want to know is how Corypheus came back to life.” Ryan yelled. “We saw him die.”

“It looks like his life force was passed on to the Grey Warden.” Morrigan calmed herself. “Perhaps he possesses the same ability as an Archdemon. Maybe the Grey Wardens knew this, and that's why they locked him away.”

“Then, Corypheus cannot die.” Solas murmured in thought. “Destroy his body, and he will assume another.”

During their discussion, Eirlana sat down on the stairs, her legs were shaking and hurting from the running they had done. Noticing her discomfort, Solas squatted down and tried to soothe her with pulses of healing magic.

“We need to find a way to stop Corypheus once we're done here.” Ryan huffed, looking around for a way forward. “This Mythal, what do you know about her Morrigan?”

“The accounts of Mythal are very old and varied, I don't know if she truly existed. It could be she was once a powerful elf or another being of immense power, if she was ever a single entity. The accounts of her are more stories than facts. I question her supposed divinity, however. One need not to be a god to have value.”

“What are those stories of her?”

“In most stories, Mythal rights wrongs while exercising motherly kindness. 'Let fly your voice to Mythal, deliverer of justice, protector of sun and earth alike.' Other paint her as dark, vengeful. 'Pray to Mythal, and she would smite your enemies, leaving them in agony.'”

“More Dalish tales, I assume.” Solas turned towards Morrigan, Eirlana could tell he was annoyed. “For all your 'knowledge,' Lady Morrigan, you cannot resist giving legend the weight of history. The wise do not mistake one for the other.”

“Pray tell, what does our elven 'expert' know about this?” Morrigan snarled.

“The oldest accounts say Mythal was both of these, and neither. She was the Mother, protective and fierce. That is all I will say. This is not a place to stir up old stories.”

“Whatever the truth,” Morrigan turned her attention back to Ryan. “all accounts of Mythal end the same: exiled to the Beyond with her brethren.”

“What do you mean, exiled?”

“Tricked by the Dread Wolf, as all the elven gods were said to be, trapped in a land beyond the Fade. Many Dalish believe this is why the elves fell from grace, and their gods did not save them. Or perhaps they were simply rulers slain by Tevinter. Who can say?”

Eirlana carefully observed Solas and how his eyes reflected a deep sorrow. Whatever had happened to Mythal, it had touched him deeply.

“Let's find a way through these doors,” Ryan said.

“That altar may hold more information.” Morrigan suggested, pointing towards a couple of stones, standing upright in the centre of an elevated part of the courtyard.

They all approached the altar. Ryan, who stepped on the elevation first jumped immediately back as the tile he stepped on, began to glow.

“It appears the temple's magics are still strong.” Morrigan moved next to him.

Getting more irritated, Ryan pointed towards the engraved stones. “That script is that elven? Does it say anything about this Well of Sorrows?”

“Atish'all Vir Abelasan.” Solas read out loud. “It means 'enter the path of the Well of Sorrows.'”

Morrigan huffed, clearly annoyed that Solas was taking the credit for translating the elven script. “There is something about knowledge. Respectful or pure. Shiven, shivennen. It is all I can translate. That it mentions, the Well is a good omen.”

“Vague translations of knowledge and sorrow. This doesn't help us at all.” Ryan grumbled.

“It is likely supplicants to Mythal would have paid some form of respect and obeisance first before they were granted permission to enter the temple.”

During their discussion, Eirlana looked around. She could feel the Veil was thin here, and the air was humming with the same magic she felt earlier. Looking next to the altar, she saw a shimmer. Something was moving along the tiles, but it was very faint like a wisp of smoke. Puzzled at to what it was, she concentrated on it.

Suddenly she connected with a spirit living here in this part of the Fade. In shock, she staggered slightly, never before she had been able to connect with a spirit in this manner without being asleep or in a trance. The spirit seemed excited by her presence and began to share the past. As she watched the image became clearer. She could see shadows of thousand and thousands of elves that had walked this path before them. They were honouring Mythal, appeasing her, praying for her favour, her wrath and forgiveness.

It was both fascinating and terrifying. How was this possible without her entering the Fade? The images were flickering as she tried to keep connected with the spirit, but it was difficult. As before, her control over her magic, her flow of mana fluctuated and as sudden as the images had appeared, they vanished again.

Blinking her eyes, she spoke up. “It's a dance.”

Everyone's attention turned towards her.

“A dance?” Morrigan huffed mockingly, raising her eyebrows sceptically.

“Will that open the door?” Ryan asked.

“Maybe. It was a ritual performed here by the Elvhen. I will try it.” Carefully she stepped on the first tile that began to glow again.

“A ritual to appease elven gods? Long-dead or no, I don't like it.” Cassandra protested.

“We have no other choice.” Ryan grumbled. “The Maker will forgive us.”

Solas watched Eirlana as she moved over the tiles, her body swaying to the rhythm of an unheard tune.

How often had he attended the ritual? How often had he stood at Mythal's side, watching the faithful, judging them as to who was worthy of being heard? It chilled him to the bone, to see her perform the same steps. With each step she took, he felt like she was taking a step back in time, a step closer to the truth.

He wanted to intervene and stop her, stop her from entangling herself deeper into the web he had created, a web he himself was captured in. It was his own fault, his own weakness that allowed her to come this close, he had allowed her to become part of him.

Standing here where Mythal had fallen, he felt closer than ever to the path he had chosen, the Din'Anshiral. He knew only death would await him at the end. It felt like with each step she took, she was following him on that path, and she didn't deserve that fate. She deserved to be free. Free from the secrets he carried, free from his bloody duty.

The optimism and hope he felt not so long ago had vanished. It had been a dream, a fleeting moment of happiness he would be forever grateful for. But the dream had shattered before it began. He lowered his eyes and clenched his jaw, he needed to harden himself and face his inescapable faith. A faith he had to face alone.

Determined Solas watched Eirlana stepping on the last tile, finishing the ritual. With a whooshing sound, the ancient magical seals activated, unlocking the doors behind them.

With a heavy heart, he followed the others, knowing that this day wouldn't end well. For he knew one thing, if the Sentinels were still guarding this place, the Well of Sorrows was still intact, and with it the Will of Mythal.

They entered the inner hall, it was also overgrown with trees and plants. Arches to the left and right let to other chambers of the Temple. Up a set of stairs stood the woman with a group of Venatori. They were just in time to witness the group of mages blast a hole into the floor, creating an opening to the lower parts of the Temple.

“Don't let them pass!” The woman yelled before jumping down the hole. Out of all directions, Venatori emerged from behind the columns and trees. They were surrounded.

“There is no end to these bastards.” Iron Bull growled and smashed his warhammer into the first warrior that came rushing towards them. Ryan and Cassandra bashed their shields, drawing attention to themselves. Solas automatically stepped in front of Eirlana, so he could shield her better from the combat.

Although they had faced the Venatori often, the overgrown vegetation in the hall made the battle treacherous. The trees provided excellent cover for the archers and mages, and the gnarled roots and broken up tiles made the ground uneven. Ryan cursed loudly several times when he almost lost his footing.

Cutting down the last mage, Ryan yelled. “Let's go! If we hurry, we might catch them.” and ran up the stairs towards the hole that still smoked from the explosion.

“Hold! A moment.” Morrigan hurried and blocked his path. “While they rush ahead, this leads to our true destination.” she pointed towards a closed door, flanked by four Mythal statues, at the other end of the hall. “We should walk the petitioner's path, as before.”

“You forget that army fighting for us out there?” Iron Bull growled disapproving. “The longer we play around, the more Inquisition soldiers die. There's a hole – Jump in.”

“I agree. Performing even more heathen rituals. I'm against it.” Cassandra proclaimed.

“We are on ancient grounds.” Solas countered. “It deserves our respect.”

“Yes, we should respect this Temple. I should be able to figure out the rituals quickly.” Eirlana agreed with him.

“Also we may not be able to find the Well of Sorrows unprepared.” Morrigan continued.

“Why not?” Ryan crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

“I read more in the first chamber than I revealed. It said a great boon is given to those who use the Well of Sorrows... but at a terrible price.”

“What did it say exactly?” Ryan looked displeased at her.

“Like most elven writing, it was insufferably vague. The term I deciphered was 'Halam'shivanas' – 'the sweet sacrifice of duty.' It implies the loss of something personal for duty's sake. Yet for those who served at this temple, a worthwhile trade. I am willing to pay the cost to preserve the Well.”

“Why didn't you say something earlier?”

“I hoped to find more information first.”

“And gain what?” he interrupted her.

“More relevant information about the Well, there may be a way to preserve it. The rituals may point to the way.”

“We already have lost too much time with this nonsense.” Ryan stepped passed her and jumped down.

They swiftly moved through the cellars of the Temple, the few Venatori that tried to stop them hardly slowed them down. That was until their path was blocked by a collapsed passage. It had just been brought down, the rubble was still on fire, and the dust hadn't even settled yet. Ryan cursed loudly. There was no way for them to clear the path quickly and continue their pursuit.

“Guess we go back up again.” Iron Bull remarked, pointing to some stairs leading back to the upper levels.

The stairs led them into a grand vestibule, illuminated by lanterns and fire bowls. The light shimmered off the flaky golden paint covering the walls. Golden decorative fencing glittered at the tops of the arches that surrounded the chamber, that was decorated with several mosaics and murals.

“What was this room used for...?” Morrigan wondered aloud.

Cautiously they entered. As they reached the centre, elves emerged from the shadows surrounding them with their bows drawn.

“Venavis.” a hooded elf stepped onto a raised balcony in front of them. He wore the same sculpted armour as the other ancient elves and Eirlana only noticed now how silently it moved. He had the same pale complexion, as well as an intricate golden-green vallaslin of Mythal.

The hooded elf crossed his arms and looked down upon them. “You... are unlike the other invaders. You stumble down our paths at the side of one of our own. You bear the mark of magic which is … familiar. How has this come to pass? What is your connection to those who first disturbed our slumber?”

Eirlana's heart skipped a beat when he mentioned Solas, but no one else of her companions reacted to his remark. Did the elf know Solas? She frowned when he described the mark as familiar. How could he recognize it? Corypheus had claimed he had forged the mark using the foci he possessed. It had transferred to Ryan after he touched the orb at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. But if this ancient elf recognized it, it meant the mark had always been part of the orb. She glanced at Solas. If Solas' goal to reach the conclave had been the foci, had he also been after the mark? She knew he had control over it and that it interacted with the Veil like it was a key. So what had Solas planned to do with it?

Ryan stepped forward, glaring at the elf. “I won't be interrogated at sword point. Declare yourself!”

The elf narrowed his eyes. “I am called Abelas. We are Sentinels, tasked with standing against those who trespass on sacred ground. We wake only to fight, to preserve this place. Our numbers diminish with each invasion. I know what you seek. Like all who have come before, you wish to drink from the vir'abelasan.”

“ 'The Place of the Way of Sorrows', he speaks of the Well!” Morrigan whispered to Ryan.

“It is not for you. It is not for any of you.” Abelas announced.

Eirlana sighed, for all the knowledge and expertise Morrigan claimed to have about elves and their history, she had forgotten that elven hearing was far better than that of humans. Abelas clearly had heard her and confirmed his suspicion why they were intruding. She watched the ancient elf that stared sternly at them. Abelas... Sorrow. She wondered what did he mourn to have been given that name. Did he mourn the demise of the Elvhen people? Or did his name have another origin?

“I am Inquisitor Trevelyan, Chosen of Andraste!” Ryan said. “I command you to let us through! I don't know what weird elven cult this is, but I need to reach this Well. Stand aside!”

Abelas studied him for a moment. “Your title means nothing to us. Our duty is clear. The vir'abelasan shall not be usurped... even if I must destroy it. Masal Din'an!” He turned and ran deeper into the Temple.

“No!” Morrigan exclaimed. With the blink of an eye, she turned into a crow and flew after Abelas.

“Morrigan!” Ryan yelled, but it is too late, she was already gone.

A hail of arrows was released as the remaining Sentinels attacked them. Immediately, Ryan, Cassandra and Iron Bull went into the offence, protected by Solas' barriers.

Shocked by how quick the situation escalated Eirlana wasn't as fast. Every part of her being rebelled against this course of action. Soon though she had no other choice but to defend herself. Where she could, she quelled her magic, hoping that some of the Sentinels would fall unconscious and survive this day.

Tears welled up in her eyes when the battle was over. Why hadn't Ryan talked to them normally? These elves had done nothing, they were only protecting their home.

Solas turned to Ryan, he too was upset. “This was unnecessary. A pointless waste of life.”

Ryan crossed his arms. “I didn't make them attack, Solas. They're the ones clinging to their pointless duty.”

“Pointless, is it?” Solas sneered. “This is their land, not yours.”

“We need to stop Corypheus.” Ryan snapped.

“Does that justify murder?” Eirlana asked, her voice raised and heavy with emotion. “They are only protecting their home. We could have explained it to them.”

“Enough! You both followed me here!”

Solas sighed quietly. “Yes, so we did.” but Eirlana didn't think Ryan heard him, as he continued to yell at them.

“I am the leader! And we have a mission to fulfil. You both know what's at stake. We need to stop Corypheus. I have no time for your or their feelings. Now shut up and follow me!”

Iron Bull grunted. “Apparently humans aren't the only stubborn fools on this continent.”

Searching the vestibule, they discovered an open door. Along twisted passages and stairs, they went deeper into the Temple. In their hurry, they didn't take the time to look around. Eirlana could only glance at the faded splendour they encountered everywhere. There were more statues of Mythal, grand mosaics and faded murals. Arches were decorated with golden filigree and decorative fences. Wherever she looked, there was a golden surface. Se had never seen so much gold in her life, and she could only imagine how in the past this Temple must have basked in a permanent glow.

She gasped when they passed the first massive golden statues of Fen'Harel, but as they found even more of them deeper in the Temple, she wondered just how important his connection was to Mythal. He must have had a crucial task to be represented this often. How could it be that such a connection had been forgotten through the ages? Nothing in elven history or legends she knew off ever mentioned their bond. She promised herself that when this was over, she would look for more information in the Fade. Now she knew what to look for it would be easier to find it.

They came into another chamber and encountered a group of Venatori and Sentinels engaged in battle. Both Ryan and Cassandra rushed immediately into the fight, followed closely by Iron Bull. Reluctantly Eirlana joined them, knowing this was now their only way to stop Corypheus. But it felt wrong to fight the Sentinels, and she tried just to knock them out whenever she got an opportunity.

“This place is like a maze.” Ryan complained when the next door revealed another corridor leading into a different direction. “Keep your guard up. We face two opponents now, and these Sentinels will know every turn of this place.”

“I wonder whose fault that is.” Solas murmured.

Ryan glared at him but didn't say anything further.

Continuing their path, Eirlana pondered how things would have gone differently if they had completed the ritual and paid their respect to this place. If only Ryan had been civil with Abelas. She glanced at Solas, who had a frown on his face; it was comforting to know she wasn't the only one who was angry at the situation.

Another group of Venatori and Sentinels attacked them. Solas twisted around when an assassin struck from the shadows. Though he kept himself and Eirlana safe, he had a hard time concentrating on the battle. His mind kept wandering to a different time. He knew these halls by heart, and with each turn they took, he was confronted by memories of his past.

He remembered how he often talked with Mythal. How they could spend hours in heated discussions. How they smirked together at his mischief, or he would simply vent his frustrations. With melancholy, he glanced at a pile of offerings that lay at the foot of one of his statues, remembering the fierce argument they had about them. Back then, he had demanded the practice to be stopped. He had argued that he wasn't a god and that it wasn't right that he and the others were worshipped as such.

He wondered if things would have gone differently if he hadn't started to rise up against the other Evanuris. Would Mythal still be alive? Or had his uprising only accelerated the inevitable? He knew that the Evanuris lust for absolute power and domination had been insatiable, and were destabilizing the world. But had his actions forced them to move against Mythal. Or would they have killed her regardlessly?

And now he himself had returned as an invader.

Coming here, Solas had expected to be confronted by the memories of his past. He even had considered the possibility that they would encounter some of the People. Elvhen like himself that had survived the ages in uthenera. What he hadn't expected was to meet Abelas. He had held his breath when he recognised him, and for a moment, he had been afraid that Abelas would call him out. Although in hindsight, it wasn't surprising that Abelas all but ignored him. He had always been one of the most loyal and the most stubborn of Mythal's servants. He didn't live for anything else but his duty, even when there were other paths to follow, other places to go. Places where he and his followers would be welcomed, places where others were gathering and preparing. But Ryan's hostility had forced Abelas' hand, and he would do anything to protect the vir'abelasan.

“There the Well of Sorrows!” Ryan pointed as they stepped out onto a balcony overseeing a garden.

Relieved they finally found it, Cassandra exhaled. “Andraste guide us.”

“So Mythal endures.” Solas murmured.

The inner sanctum of the Temple must once have been a beautiful, well-kept garden. It was still beautiful, but now it was wild and overgrown, nature clearly had taken over. Trees and other plants grew everywhere and had destroyed parts of the walls and paths. Piles of rubble lay here and there, and everything was covered in layers of algae and moss. A waterway flowed through the garden, plunging down into a deep fissure at the garden's centre, beyond it a mass of rocks arose. On its top, they could see a body of water reflecting the sunlight.

In the garden below them, a group of Venatori was brutally cutting down the last of the Sentinels.

Quickly they ran down the stairs. Anger and sorrow filled Eirlana as she witnessed one of the Venatori warriors standing on one of the Elvhen, drowning him cruelly in the water. She was too late to stop it.

How could they do this? How could any of this happen? The Inquisition was supposed to fight Corypheus, to save and protect the world and its people from him. So why weren't they saving these Elvhen? Why were they fighting against them?

She hadn't always agreed with Ryan's decisions, but the Inquisition's direction had always been to stop Corypheus and the damage he had caused. Now she was revolted that Ryan's actions were forcing her to fight against these Elvhen. And what was maybe even more horrifying was that most of the people she considered her friends were agreeing with him.

“Stand aside, Inquisitor!” the woman leading the Venatori addressed Ryan.

“And you are?”

“I'm called Calpernia. But when I partake of the Well, names will be meaningless. Leave. This is not your time.”

The Venatori around her slowly spread out, ready to attack them at any moment.

“Take one step toward that Well, and I'll finish you.” Ryan threatened her.

“You serve your people – you have one last chance to save them.” she stared at the Well longingly. “The Well of Sorrows overflows with knowledge, power abandoned by those elves worshipped as gods. To walk the Fade without the Anchor – that is what the Well of Sorrows will give Corypheus.”

Ryan smirked. “So I will take that power before him, as I did with the templars and the Grey Wardens.”

“Simple fool.” she shook her head. “I knew you would take the Well for yourself. To ransack its wisdom and try to defeat Corypheus. This will be the end, Inquisitor. You should never have come here.” Two rage demons appeared beside her. “Venatori kill them!”

Bleeding severely from a sword wound, Calpernia staggered, holding her stomach. The dead bodies of her men lay around her, and her demons had turned into ash. Angry, she glared at Ryan, who strode menacingly towards her, his sword ready for the killing blow. Gritting her teeth, she teleported away.

“If I fall, it will not be by your hand.” she spat and jumped down the fissure to her death.

With the battle over Eirlana checked everybody for any injuries. There were some cuts and bruises, but Cassandra seemed to be the worst. She was slightly bent over, struggling to take a proper breath. Earlier she had taken a blow from a maul to her chest, and Eirlana suspected she had several broken ribs.

“Hold still.” she stepped towards her and let her magic flow, repairing the damage.

In the meanwhile, Ryan and Iron Bull tried to figure out how to cross the chasm and reach the Well.

Suddenly Abelas appeared, magic erupted from him, and a stony path arose out of thin air, leading over the chasm and up to the Well of Sorrows. Leaping from rock to rock he ran up the path, with great agility and speed. Morrigan, still a crow, chased him in close pursuit.

“Quickly after him!” Ryan ran after them. He was closely followed by Iron Bull and Cassandra, who had pushed Eirlana out of the way.

Before Abelas could reach the Well Morrigan overtook him and re-materialised. His path blocked Abelas turned, only to see Ryan behind him.

“You heard his parting words, Inquisitor.” Morrigan started “The elf seeks to destroy the Well of Sorrows.”

Seeing that he was outnumbered, Abelas stepped back, so he could face both Ryan and Morrigan. “So the sanctum is despoiled at last.”

“You would have destroyed the Well yourself, given the chance.” Morrigan spoke sharply.

“To keep it from your grasping fingers!” Abelas glared at them. “Better it to be lost than bestowed upon the undeserving!”

“Fool!” Morrigan snapped. “You'd let your people's legacy rot in the shadows!”

“This Well is clearly powerful.” Ryan joined in. “If it will help to stop Corypheus, we will take it!”

“I care nothing for your petty conflicts, shemlen.” Abelas sneered.

“You will care, once Corypheus arrives.” Ryan threatened. “We can't afford to waste this power.”

Abelas shook his head. “Do you even know what you demand?” He gazed at the Well. “As each servant of Mythal reached the end of their years, they would pass their knowledge on... through this. All that we were. All that we knew. It would be lost forever.”

Eirlana's heart sank listening to him, he sounded so sad, so filled with sorrow. It was the embodiment of the name he carried.

“There are other places, friend.” Solas spoke up. “Other duties. Your people yet linger.”

Abelas looked at Solas. “Elvhen such as you?” there was a severity in his voice Eirlana couldn't place.

“Yes. Such as I.” Solas answered calmly.

Abelas shook his head and turned back towards the Well. “Our duty is all that remains. Those who drank from the vir'abelasan paid a great price, bound to the service of Mythal for eternity.”

“The era of the elves is long gone.” Ryan stepped forward. “Whatever this cult is, it needs to end. Only the Maker is the one true god. Whatever this Mythal was, you shouldn't serve her.”

“Who she is... to you... it shall make no difference.” With a hand gesture, Abelas blasted them back with a powerful surge of magic.

Struggling to her feet, Eirlana watched as he gathered more magical energy. The waters of the Well of Sorrows began to churn and glow. He was going to destroy it.

All of a sudden Morrigan stood behind him, a knife in her hand.

“No!” Eirlana exclaimed, but it was too late. Morrigan stabbed Abelas in the back.

Crumbling to the ground, he sighed, “Mythal sulevin.” and then everything was quiet.

“Good work, Morrigan.” Ryan said, stepping over Abelas' body. Together they approached the Well. They were joined by Cassandra and Iron Bull, who looked more suspiciously at the still waters. Behind their backs, Eirlana quickly knelled beside Abelas. She glanced briefly at the others before she pressed her hands on Abelas' body.

When Solas saw the soft glow of her healing magic, he knew she was attempting to save his life. Although he had often disagreed and argued with the man in the past, he didn't deserve this fate. Determined to buy her some time, he set his eyes on Ryan. He was itching to pick a fight with him. An easy task after today's events.

“He was a stubborn fool.” Morrigan complained aloud.

Quickly Solas stepped in front of her and Ryan. “He was defending all that was left of what once was. He had every right to stop us.”

“And let him happily bury us in the process?” she snapped back at him.

'Good.' Solas thought. All eyes were on him. “We came here to stop Corypheus from gaining the Well. Destroying it would have achieved that goal.”

“This could help us destroy Corypheus!” Ryan joined in.

Solas suppressed a smirk, it was too easy to bait this man. “We don't know that! Knowledge has many different forms, and we know too little of this Well. Do you even know how to use it? Because we just killed the last one who could have told us.”

“He was going to destroy it! I had to save the Well.” Morrigan's eyes burned with anger.

“You more likely want the Well for your own ends.”

“What would you know of my 'ends', elf?”

“You are a glutton, drooling at the sight of a feast. You cannot be trusted.”

Eirlana worked fast, she could still feel a faint and uneven pulse. Concentrating on the stab wound, she let her magic do the work, repairing what she could. It wasn't perfect, she couldn't see nor clean the injury, but at least he would live.

Abelas took a sharp breath, his eyes opened briefly and stared at her. Before he could say something, Eirlana put a sleep spell on him. “Ir abelas.” she whispered.

With luck, those who had survived this day would find him. She hoped that he would find one of the places Solas had suggested, and live a life that wasn't filled by sorrow.

The others were still arguing when she carefully stepped away from Abelas. Listening to the discussion, she moved silently farther to the right, closer to the Well. She noticed it was emitting a strange magical aura.

“Enough!” Ryan cut Solas off. “I, for one, am glad Morrigan stopped him from destroying it.”

Morrigan smirked, clearly pleased he was on her side. With the argument silenced, she pointed across the Well to the big mirror that stood there. “You'll also notice the intact eluvian.” she sighed. “I was correct on that count, at least.”

There were more eluvians around the Well, but they were all shattered.

“Can Corypheus still use it to reach the Fade?”

“You recall I said each eluvian required a key? The Well is the key. When we take its power, we will take possession of Mythal's last eluvian. It will be no more use to Corypheus than glass.”

For a moment she gazed at the Well. “I did not expect the Well to feel so... hungry.”

Morrigan was right Eirlana thought, it felt hungry. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the magic resting within the water. The magic was old and powerful, and it had a hunger, a hunger for knowledge, but there was more. Other emotions were bound to this magic, there was a strong sense of devotion, servitude, submission and obedience. The longer she fixated her mind on the magic, the stronger the sense of servitude became.

“A powerful compulsion lies upon the Well.” she said.

“What?” Ryan asked. He and the others looked at her.

“It doesn't just contain the knowledge from the priests of Mythal. It is their combined will.”

“And how would you know such a thing?” Morrigan crossed her arms, looking once again sceptical at her.

“Abelas told us. Listen to it... Can't you feel it? It's a geas.”

“That... would match the legends,” Morrigan thought out loud. “but it does not tell us what the geas entails. If it means to be bound to the will of a dead god? It seems an empty warning.” she shook her head. “I do not fear it.” She turned to Ryan. “Inquisitor I am willing to pay the price the Well demands and take the risk. I am also the best suited to use its knowledge in your service. Let me drink, Inquisitor.”

Ryan grabbed his chin as he thought. “Any thoughts?” he asked Cassandra.

“If it is truly between you and her... then let her take the risk. Maker, help us all.”

He nodded, and Morrigan stepped into the water. At first, she was a little apprehensive, but soon she waded to the centre of the Well with confidence.

The water reacted to her presence, glowing softly; wisps of smoke and sparks of magic escaped from the surface and swirled around her. Reaching the centre, Morrigan knelt down with a smile on her lips, emerging herself in the water. In a flash, the water exploded with a powerful magical discharge and disappeared. Morrigan lay unconscious on her back in the, now, dry Well.

“Morrigan. Are you all right?” Ryan hastened to her side.

She opened her eyes and stumbled to her feet, looking confused. “Ellasin selah! Vissan... vissanalla...” She shook her head to clear it. “I... I am intact. There is much to sift through... but now we can.”

She fell silent when suddenly dark blue-grey smoke arose around them from the bottom of the Well charged with blue sparks of magic. Whispering voices filled the air. They all looked around what was happening.

“Boss, over there!” Bull pointed in the distance.

Where they had entered the garden, a figure was coming through the doors, it was Corypheus. He spotted them and cried out in rage. They watched as he took to the air, flying towards them.

“The eluvian!” Morrigan yelled and activated it.

“Through the mirror!” Ryan told them, and they all ran.

Behind their backs, a column of water arose, but they had no time to watch what was happening as they jumped through the eluvian.

Emerging from the other side Morrigan, Cassandra and Iron Bull stumbled and fell to the ground. Solas managed to stay on his feet and quickly turned, catching Eirlana in his arms.

Stunned Eirlana looked around, they were back at Skyhold. Half expecting Corypheus following them, she twisted around, but Ryan was the last one to emerge from the eluvian.

With them all safe, Morrigan deactivated the mirror, and for a moment, they all looked at each other speechless.

Ryan was the first to break the silence. “Well, I need to send some birds to let them know we are back at Skyhold. We need to get our soldiers back here. Morrigan, try to find anything useful that can help us against Corypheus.” he walked into the garden, surprising several Sisters with his return.

“Of course Inquisitor.” Morrigan inclined her head.

#flame of winter #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age solas #Solas #solas romance #solas x oc #eirlana #fanfic

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darrengowland · 6 years ago

Text

Engagermate Review

SMSBot Review – How to get 90% open rates for your marketing messages?

Name: SMSBot

Product Owner: Gaurab Borah and Satish Gaire

Website: Click Here

Price: $37 one-off for Lite / $97 per month for Elite

In a nutshell, what is SMSBot?

SMSBot is the world’s first SMS autoresponder… basically an Aweber for text messages! The truth is, more and more people are ignoring marketing emails. Also, email service providers, such as Gmail, filter out marketing messages and place them outside of the main inbox, which means people never even get the chance to read your messages. Compare that to SMS. People are practically glued to their phones. Because of this, SMS messages gets opened and read far more than emails (90-95% open rates). SMSBot allows you to do everything an email autoresponder would do, such as capture leads, send messages etc. but using SMS instead of email.

Who is SMSBot for?

SMSBot is very simple to set up and use, even for someone who thinks they’re technically challenged, so from that point of view, it is newbie-friendly. However, it assumes you have an online business, and you have a list (although one of the training modules does show you how to build a list of mobile numbers from scratch with free traffic). There is an assumption that you are already making money online (or at least have chosen what you want to do online). From that point of view, it is aimed at slightly above newbie-level and beyond.

Basically, anyone who has a business, and captures leads in some way or another can benefit from SMSBot:

Online marketers

Offline marketers

Consultants / Coaches

Bloggers / YouTubers

Ecom store owners

Local businesses (restaurants, bars, retail stores, doctors, attorneys, realtors etc.)

Local marketers

3 things I love about SMSBot:

I hate complex ideas and products, which is why I love the simplicity of SMSBot. We all know what we’re like with our phones. We’re on them all the time. They’ve become our diaries, our alarm clocks, our games consoles and even mini TVs…therefore it makes complete sense that SMS messages are going to have much higher open rates compared to email. And now, with SMSBot you can send text messages in the same way you create and schedule emails using your autoresponder service. To make sure you get the most out of SMSBot, you’ll also get comprehensive video training

SMSBot has all the functionality of an email autoresponder service. So it can collect user’s information every step of the way (email, location, age, etc.), send unlimited text message campaigns, store mobile numbers etc. If you think about how much you probably spend on email autoresponders on a monthly basis, when you compare it to the one-off fee for SMSBot Lite, it becomes a no-brainer

I really like that the creators have thought of all possible scenarios that a business could use SMS. So there is the Lite version, which is a one-off payment of $37, and is ideal for anyone who has one business, whether that’s online or offline, and just getting started. But then there’s the Elite version, which is $97 per month, and allows local marketers (or someone who wants to be a local marketer) sell SMS services to local businesses. The Elite version gives you a commercial license, which allows you to handle unlimited client campaigns within your dashboard, and charge each client a monthly recurring fee (many businesses will happily pay you $500+ for this kind of service).

What will I get inside SMSBot?

You get the easy-to-use SMSBot software platform, which includes:

Easily collect user’s information every step of the way (email, location, age, etc.)

Get up to 95% open rates

Unlimited lead capture

Unlimited text message campaigns

Up to 1000 mobile number storage (Lite) / Up to 10,000 (Elite)

Works with all kind of websites i.e.: WordPress, OptimizePress, Instabuilder, Igloo, Thrive Architect, ClickFunnel, Convertri & others

You get comprehensive video training:

Module 1 One-Time-Setup – You’re shown how to get up and running within 90 seconds.

Module 2 Create Your LOGIC Bot – You’re shown how to set up your SMS bot logic, so when people opt in, you’ll can collect additional information (location, email, age, etc.)

Module 3 Copy-Paste The Mobile Widget – You’re shown how to copy and paste the code snippet into your website or blog and ‘go live.’

Module 4 Simple Traffic – You’re shown how people will opt in to your list, either by texting a keyword that you set, or entering their number inside a form that will trigger a text message confirmation.

Module 5 Scaling Your Campaigns – You’ll be shown how to scale your campaign & maximize your ROI.

Module 6 – The Free Traffic Hack – You’ll be shown how to start capturing hundreds of mobile numbers with no money down – perfect for those on limited budgets.

Module 7 – Maximize Profits With Intelligent Retargeting – you’ll be shown, after you’ve scaled your campaigns, how to boost your profits by adding retargeting.

Any drawbacks to SMSBot?

The only drawback is that SMSBot Lite can hold only 1000 mobile numbers. If you need more storage, you need to upgrade to SMSBot Elite. Having said that, with open rates of between 90-95%, and with comprehensive training showing you how to get the most clicks, engagement and sales from your marketing text messages, even with a cap of 1000 mobile numbers with Lite, you should be making some serious profits. At that point, upgrading to Elite becomes extremely affordable.

Do I get any bonuses with SMSBot?

There are no bonuses with Lite, but with the Elite monthly program you get:

Done-for-you campaigns – 25 proven blueprints that elicit guaranteed 90%+ engagement. Just copy-paste these templates into SMSBot and your leads will do the rest of the work for you (i.e., answer all the questions you need to be able to sell them whatever offer you have available).

Live webinar training – join a webinar with the creators of SMSBOT, who will walk you through how the app works, show you best practices & troubleshoot any issues you may be experiencing during a real-time Q&A session.

Also, remember the 2 main fundamental differences between Lite and Elite. With Lite, you can store up to 1000 mobile numbers. With Elite, you can store up to 10,000.

And Elite also gives you a commercial license, which means you can offer SMS services to other businesses (unlimited number) as a Local / SMS marketer (Lite only allows you to send SMS for one business)

Final thoughts on SMSBot:

Imagine you get traffic to your website, or blog, or YouTube channel… Then what? Most people browse once & leave forever, never to return again. The old solution for this problem was, “just add an email capture form.” But does this work anymore? Nope! No one likes opting into email subscribe forms anymore, because they know what will happen next… They’ll get bombarded with 100 emails a day, which they DON’T want. So what are smart marketers doing? They’re sending their marketing messages via SMS. SMSBot allows you to place marketing messages right in front of your audience on their phone, giving you the technology that was only previously available to big brands, at a fraction of what they pay. Seriously, even experienced marketers can only dream of a 90%+ open rates with email. But now, with SMSBot, you can enjoy sky-high open-rates, and convert your leads into buyers… every time!

==>> DOWNLOAD SMSBOT NOW & GET STARTED

The post Engagermate Review appeared first on Netmillionairedude.

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#IFTTT #WordPress

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chaj · 6 years ago

Link

via www.pyimagesearch.com

Earlier this week I shared a tutorial on using OpenCV to stream live video over a network via ImageZMQ — and today I’m pleased to share an interview with Jeff Bass, the creator of ImageZMQ!

Jeff has over 40 years experience hacking with computers and electronics — and now he’s applying computer vision + Raspberry Pis to his permaculture farm for:

Data collection

Wildlife monitoring

Water meter and temperature reading

Jeff is truly one of my favorite people that I’ve ever had the honor to meet. Over his 40 year career he’s amassed an incredible amount of knowledge over computer science, electronics, statistics, and more.

He also spent 20 years doing statistics and data analysis at a large biotech company. The advice he gives is practical, to the point, and always very well said. It’s a privilege to have him here today.

On a personal note, Jeff was also one of the original PyImageSearch Gurus course members. He’s been a long-time reader and supporter — and he’s truly helped make this blog possible.

It’s a wonderful pleasure to have Jeff here today, and whether you’re looking for unique, practical applications of computer vision and OpenCV, or simply looking for advice on how to build your portfolio for a career in computer science, look no further than this interview!

An interview with Jeff Bass, creator of ImageZMQ

Adrian: Hey Jeff! Thank you for being here today. It’s wonderful to have you here on the PyImageSearch blog. For people who do not know you, who are you and what do you do?

Jeff: I’m a lifelong learner who’s been playing with electronics and computers for over 40 years. I studied econometrics, statistics and computer science in grad school. I developed a statistical software package for PCs back when PCs were a new thing. I spent 20 years doing statistics and data analysis at a big biotech company.

Now I’m retired from income producing endeavors and building a small permaculture farm in Southern California. I’m using computer vision, sensors and Raspberry Pis as tools to observe and manage the farm. I speak at garden clubs and conferences occasionally. I really enjoyed being a speaker at PyImageConf 2018.

Adrian: How did you first become interested in computer vision and deep learning?

Jeff: I got a Raspberry Pi and a Pi Camera module in 2013 when they first became available. I wanted to use them to observe and catalog wildlife activity as I got started with the farm. I was already very familiar with Linux and C, but the best Pi Camera interface was the “Picamera” module in Python. I started “web wandering” to learn more about Python programming and computer vision. I ran across your tutorial blogs and bought your Practical Python and OpenCV book. Once I’d worked through the examples in your book, I was hooked.

Figure 1: Jeff Bass runs Ying Yang Ranch, a permaculture farm designed to grow food with long term sustainability.

Adrian: Can you tell us a bit more about your farm? What is permaculture farming? Why is it important and how is it different than “traditional” farming?

Jeff: I call the farm Yin Yang Ranch. It is a small 2 acre “science project” in a suburban area. I started learning about permaculture at the same time I started learning about Raspberry Pis.

Permaculture is a collection of practices and design principles to grow food with long term sustainability as the primary goal. It starts with creating deep living soil with diverse microbiology, emulating an old growth forest. Permaculture design choices prioritize sustainability over efficiency. It is science based, emphasizing a cycle of careful observation, repeatable experiments and open sharing of best practices.

Permaculture farms are generally small and include many different kinds of plants growing together rather than rows of similar crops. Food plants are grown in the same space with native plants. I am growing figs, pears, pomegranates, plums, grapes, avocados, oranges, mulberries, blackberries and other edibles. But they are interplanted with native California Coast Live Oaks and Sycamore Trees. It doesn’t look much like a traditional farm. Traditional agriculture is efficient, but degrades soil and water resources. Permaculture is trying to change that.

Figure 2: Jeff uses Raspberry Pis + computer vision around his farm. An example of such is automatic water meter reading using OpenCV.

Adrian: How can Raspberry Pis and computer vision be helpful on your farm?

Jeff: We are in Southern California about 10 miles from the Malibu coast. Drought and limited rainfall are the toughest climate issues. Monitoring and observation are important, so I built a Raspberry Pi Camera system to read the water meter and monitor temperatures to optimize irrigation.

That led more questions and lots of fun ways to gather and analyze data:

How many gallons did it take to water the mulberries today?

When did the coyotes last run behind the barn?

What is the temperature and soil moisture under the avocado trees?

What is the temperature and moisture content of the 5 compost piles?

How is it changing over time?

How much solar electricity did we generate today?

How full are the rain barrels?

How do the birds, butterflies and other critter movements change with the seasons and with whatever is blooming or putting on fruit?

The Raspberry Pis are also keeping track of stuff like the opening and closing of garage and barn doors. And they can let me know when a package is delivered.

Adrian: You created a library called imagezmq. What is it and what does it do?

Jeff: The imagezmq library implements a simple and fast network of Raspberry Pis (clients) and servers.

Early on, I decided on a distributed design using Raspberry Pis for capturing images and using Macs for analyzing the images. The goal was to have Raspberry Pis do image capture and motion detection (is the water meter spinning?) and programmatically decide on a small subset of images to pass along to the Mac.

I spent a year trying different ways of sending images from multiple Raspberry Pis to a Mac. I settled on the open source ZMQ library and its PyZMQ python wrappers. My imagezmq library uses ZMQ to send images and event messages from a dozen Raspberry Pis to a Mac hub. ZMQ is fast, small, simple to use and doesn’t need a message broker.

Here are a pair of code snippets showing how to use imagezmq to continuously send images from a Raspberry Pi to a Mac. First the code running on each Raspberry Pi:

# run this program on each RPi to send a labelled image stream import socket import time from imutils.video import VideoStream import imagezmq sender = imagezmq.ImageSender(connect_to='tcp://jeff-macbook:5555') rpi_name = socket.gethostname() # send RPi hostname with each image picam = VideoStream(usePiCamera=True).start() time.sleep(2.0) # allow camera sensor to warm up while True: # send images as stream until Ctrl-C image = picam.read() sender.send_image(rpi_name, image)

Then the code running on the Mac (server):

# run this program on the Mac to display image streams from multiple RPis import cv2 import imagezmq image_hub = imagezmq.ImageHub() while True: # show streamed images until Ctrl-C rpi_name, image = image_hub.recv_image() cv2.imshow(rpi_name, image) # 1 window for each RPi cv2.waitKey(1) image_hub.send_reply(b'OK')

The hostname of each Raspberry Pi allows the Mac to put the image stream from that Raspberry Pi in a separate, labelled

cv2.imshow()

window. I have a photo in my imagezmq github repository showing 8 Raspberry Pi camera feeds being displayed simultaneously on a single Mac:

Figure 3: Live streaming video from 8 Raspberry Pis to a central hub using Python, OpenCV, and ImageZMQ.

It uses 12 lines of Python code on each Raspberry Pi and 8 lines of Python on the Mac. One Mac can keep up with 8 to 10 Raspberry Pis at 10 FPS. ZMQ is fast.

imagezmq enables a computer vision pipeline to be easily distributed over multiple Raspberry Pis and Macs. The Raspberry Pi captures images at 16 FPS. It detects motion caused by the spinning of the water meter needle. It sends only the images where the needle starts moving or stops moving, which is only a small fraction of the images it captures. Then, the Mac uses more advanced computer vision techniques to read the “digital digits” portion of the water meter images and determine how much water is being used. Each computer is able to do the portion of the computer vision pipeline for which it is best suited. imagezmq enables that.

Adrian: What is your favorite computer vision + Raspberry Pi project that you’ve deployed on Yin Yang Ranch?

Jeff: I’ve mounted a Raspberry Pi on the back wall of my barn with an infrared floodlight. It tracks motion and sends images when the motion is “critter like”. I’ve captured images of coyotes, raccoons, possums, bats, hawks, squirrels and rabbits. I’m still working on the deep learning models to classify them correctly. It’s been a lot of fun for me and my neighbors to learn more about the wildlife around us.

Figure 4: A selection of Raspberry Pi components and cameras, including (left to right) Waveshare Combo IR lens and dual IR floodlights, PiNoir IR Camera with IR “Ring Light” floodlight, RPi Zero with PiCamera in white light “Ring Light” with DS18B20 temperature probe, RPi Zero with “Spy Cam” and longer range WiFi, and RPi Zero with older model (and half price) PiCamera.

Adrian: Raspberry Pis, while cheap, are by no means as powerful as a standard laptop/desktop. What are some of the lessons learned while using Raspberry Pis around the farm?

Jeff: Raspberry Pis are great at image capture. The Pi Camera module is very controllable in Python for changing things like exposure mode. A USB or laptop webcam is usually not controllable at all. Controlling exposure and other camera settings can be very helpful in wildlife tracking and even reading a water meter.

The Raspberry Pi GPIO pins can gather readings from temperature sensors, moisture sensors and others. The GPIO pins can be used to control lights like the lights that illuminate my water meter and my barn area. Laptops and desktops don’t do those things easily.

On the other hand, Raspberry Pis lack a high speed disk drive — the SD card is not suitable for writing lots of binary image files. In my system, the Raspberry Pis send the image files over the network rather than storing them locally. Laptops and desktops have fast disk storage and lots of RAM memory allowing more elaborate image processing. I try to have my Raspberry Pis do what they excel at and have the Macs do what they are good at.

Most of my Raspberry Pis are Raspberry Pi 3’s, but I also use the cheaper, smaller Raspberry Pi Zero for Pi Cameras that only need to do simple motion detection, like my driveway cam. When there is no need for additional image processing, even the smaller memory and less powerful processor of the Pi Zero is adequate.

Adrian: What types of hardware, cameras, and Raspberry Pi accessories do you use around the farm? How do you keep your Pis safe from getting wet and destroyed?

Jeff: I use Raspberry Pis with Pi Cameras at many places around the farm. They often have temperature, moisture and other sensors. I build multiple kinds of enclosures to protect the Raspberry Pis.

One of my favorites is to convert a existing outdoor light fixture into a waterproof Raspberry Pi container. You remove the light bulb, screw in a simple AC socket adapter and you have an easy rainproof enclosure that holds the Raspberry Pi and the Pi Camera module. A GPIO temperature probe fits as well. It is easy to add a Raspberry Pi controlled LED light so that the light fixture still provides light like it did before:

Figure 5: Converting an outdoor light fixture into a waterproof Raspberry Pi container.

Another enclosure is a simple glass mason jar with a plastic lid. It fits a Raspberry Pi and is waterproof. Power and camera cables can be routed through holes in the plastic lid. That’s how my water meter Pi Camera is built and it has been working well through all kinds of weather for over 2 years:

Figure 6: A simple Raspberry Pi enclosure using a simple mason jar.

For infrared applications like the night time critter camera behind my barn, I put the Raspberry Pi inside the barn. The camera and temperature sensor cables run through small holes in the barn wall. The Pi NoIR camera module is protected under a simple overhang of old shingles. Infrared light doesn’t pass through glass, so the Pi NoIR camera module cannot be in a glass enclosure. The shingle overhang over an otherwise unprotected PiNoIR module has been very effective:

Figure 7: A simple wooden overhang to protect the Raspberry Pi.

A closer view can be seen below:

Figure 8: A closer up view of the overhang (you can see the red light from the Raspberry Pi camera if you look closely).

I have also found that inexpensive (about $5) “Fake Security Cam” enclosures work really well as waterproof Raspberry Pi and Pi Camera enclosures. They easily hold a Raspberry Pi and they have a tripod-like angle adjuster:

Figure 9: The shell of a fake security security camera can easily house a Raspberry Pi + camera module.

Once put together the “fake” security camera becomes a real security camera:

Figure 10: Adding the Raspberry Pi + camera components to the security camera shell.

For power, I tend to run longer power lines (over 20 feet long) at 12 volts, then convert to 5 volts at the Raspberry Pi. I use 12 volt power adapters like those that are used to charge cell phones in cars. Cheap and effective. Most of my Raspberry Pis are networked with WiFi, but I have ethernet in my barn and at various places around the house, so some of my Raspberry Pis are using ethernet to send images.

Adrian: During your PyImageConf 2018 talk you discussed how projects like these can actually help people build their computer vision and deep learning resumes. Can you elaborate on what you mean there?

Jeff: During my 30 years of managing programming and data analysis teams, I found it very helpful when job candidates came to the interview with a specific project in their portfolio that showed their strengths. A computer vision project — even a hobby project like my Raspberry Pi water meter cam — can really help demonstrate practical skills and ability.

A well documented project demonstrates practical experience and problem solving. It shows the ability to complete large projects fully (80% solutions are good but 100% solutions demonstrate an ability to finish). A portfolio project can demonstrate other specific skills, such as using multiple computer vision libraries, the ability to write effective documentation, facility with Git / GitHub as a collaboration tool and technical communication skills. It is important to be able to tell a short, compelling project story — the “elevator speech” about your portfolio project.

Adrian: How as the PyImageSearch blog, the PyImageSearch Gurus course, and the books/courses helped you make this project a success?

Jeff: When I started learning about computer vision, I found that a lot of the material on the web was either too theoretical or gave simplistic code snippets without any fleshed out examples or complete code.

When I found your PyImageSearch blog, I found your tutorial projects to be very complete and helpful. You provided an understandable story line for each problem being solved. Your explanations were clear and complete with fully functioning code. Running some of the programs in your blog led me to buy your Practical Python and OpenCV book.

I took your PyImageSearch Gurus course and learned to code many specific computer vision techniques. I had previously read about many of these techniques, but your specific code examples provided the “how-to” I needed to write computer vision code for my own projects.

The license plate number reading section of your Gurus course was the basis for the first draft of my water meter digits reading program. Your deep learning book is helping me to write the next version of my object recognition software for tagging critters around the farm (racoon or possum?).

Adrian: Would you recommend PyImageSearch and the books/courses to other developers, researchers, and students trying to learn computer vision + deep learning?

Jeff: I would definitely recommend your PyImageSearch blog, books and courses to those trying to learn about this rapidly evolving field. You are very good at explaining complex techniques with a helpful mix of code and narrative discussion. Your books and courses provided a jump start to my understanding of the theory and practice of modern computer vision algorithms.

I had not programmed in Python before, and some of its idioms felt a bit odd to my C conditioned brain. Your practical examples helped me use the best features of Python in “Pythonic” ways. Your Gurus course is well structured with a good flow that builds on simple examples that are expanded lesson by lesson into fully developed programs that solve complex problems. Your coverage of the many different computer vision and deep learning techniques is broad and comprehensive. Your books and courses are a good value for what you charge for them. Highly recommended.

Adrian: What are your next steps for Yin Yang Ranch and your current computer vision/deep learning projects?

Jeff: I would like to do more wildlife identification and counting. The farm is next to an open space that is a wildlife corridor through a suburban area. I’m going to use more advanced deep learning techniques to identify different animals by species. When do specific animals come and go? What birds and butterflies show up in which part of the season? How are their numbers related to seasonal rainfall? I would like to use deep learning to identify specific individuals in a coyote pack. How long is a specific coyote staying in our area? I can recognize specific individuals when I look at captured images. I’d like to use deep learning to do that with software.

Adrian: Is there anything else you would like to share?

Jeff: Building stuff with software and hardware can be a lot of fun. If someone is reading this and wondering how to get started, I would suggest they start with something they are passionate about. There is likely to be some way that computer vision and deep learning can help with a project in their area of interest. I wanted to do some permaculture farm science and my computer vision projects are helping me do that. I’m learning a lot, giving some talks and farm tours to help others learn…and I’m having a lot of fun.

Adrian: If a PyImageSearch reader wants to chat, what is the best place to connect with you?

Jeff: Folks can read more and see more project pictures at my Yin Yang Ranch repository on GitHub:

https://github.com/jeffbass/yin-yang-ranch

Or they can send me an email at jeff [at] yin-yang-ranch.com.

Summary

In this blog post, we interviewed Jeff Bass, the creator of the ImageZMQ library (which we used in last weeks’s tutorial), used to facilitate live video streaming from a Raspberry Pi to a central server/hub using Python + OpenCV.

Jeff was motivated to create the ImageZMQ library to help around his permaculture farm. Using ImageZMQ and a set of Raspberry Pis, Jeff can apply computer vision and data science techniques to gather and analyze temperature readings, water meter flow, electricity usage, and more!

Please take a second to thank Jeff for taking the time to do the interview.

To be notified when future blog posts and interviews are published here on PyImageSearch, just be sure to enter your email address in the form below, and I’ll be sure to keep you in the loop.

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