#& has been roaming since time immemorial

[ghoulsbeard]

jay hey <3 was rereading one of your pieces today and was wondering about this line... "Mirabelle hoped it was young Tsona and not Enthir smuggling that damn hellbitten cat in again."

made me laugh. does enthir have a creature

<333

i feel in my soul that enthir would cohabitate with an unauthorized beaft.. not a pet just his roommate… some huge old norwegian forest cat with the steely eye of a riften card sharp

[tomorrowusa]

President Biden signed into existence the 917,618 acre Baaj Nwaavjo I’tah Kukveni – Ancestral Footprints of the Grand Canyon National Monument. The new national monument covers three tracts of land important to indigenous people in Arizona.

Nearly 5 million people visit the Grand Canyon each year, but few are aware that the site has been sacred to Indigenous peoples in the region since time immemorial — and that the national park designation of the region essentially kicked them off their homelands a century ago.  On Tuesday, President Biden recognized this history by designating the nearly one million-acre region including the Grand Canyon and its surrounding areas as the Baaj Nwaavjo I'tah Kukveni – Ancestral Footprints of the Grand Canyon National Monument in Arizona. The announcement follows a 15-year endeavor from a coalition of tribes to protect the region from uranium mining that has polluted the Colorado River. Baaj Nwaavjo means "where tribes roam" for the Havasupai Tribe, while I'tah Kukveni translates to "our ancestral footprints" in Hopi.  [ ... ] Former President Barack Obama previously banned new uranium mines in the Grand Canyon area in 2012, but his policy was set to expire later this year. This is the fifth new national monument established by the Biden administration to protect the country's natural landscapes, following the designation of the Avi Kwa Ame national monument in Nevada earlier in 2023.

Republicans, of course, don't like it.

The new designation permanently protects the region from uranium mining, which Republican leaders were quick to oppose, sending a letter to Biden claiming ​​that the protections created for the Grand Canyon would cause the U.S. to over-rely on foreign countries like Russia for uranium. However, The Guardian reported that advocates say the region only contains some 1% of the country's uranium reserves and that uranium is best mined elsewhere.

Contrary to what Republicans and far right media may claim, acreage for the Baaj Nwaavjo I’tah Kukveni was already in federal hands and does not represent a grab of state, tribal, or private lands. Amber Reimondo at Grand Canyon Trust writes...

National monument designations only apply to federally managed lands. The Baaj Nwaavjo I'tah Kukveni – Ancestral Footprints of the Grand Canyon National Monument designation thus adds a layer of protection to lands already managed by the U.S. Forest Service and U.S. Bureau of Land Management. No private, state, or tribal lands are included in the monument.  This added layer of protection is incredibly popular with the public. The monument has broad support across the Grand Canyon state. [ ... ] Recent polling shows that 75 percent of Arizona voters support designating lands immediately outside Grand Canyon National Park as a national monument to protect clean water supplies and Native American sites.

The three components of the Baaj Nwaavjo I'tah Kukveni are outlined in green on this map.

[theavtalks]

At War

I go outside, mostly for a walk or a run, in the evening when the sun is settling down. Not only the sun, but the people are settling down. Is it in our country only on with the complete mankind, that we see so much of settling down? I see ferries, rickshaws, people returning from their offices. They have been working hard for their livelihood. Yes, they are working hard for their livelihood but are they really living? No doubt they move well, they talk, react, wave their hands and roam on their feet, but are they really alive? They don’t speak much. They just walk, like background characters in a play. But, I see one part of their body that knows how to speak - their eyes. Their eyes are loud, screaming in insanity at the top of its lungs, if the eyes had lungs in some other dimension of the universe. Unable to weep and incapable of crying, their eyes appeal. They say everything that the person can’t. Fatigue from the last night, next deadline to meet, son’s degrading grades and the wait for Sunday - they say it all. They don’t want to be through what they do but they want to be through what they do. It’s an inner conflict, the mind quarrels with the heart and nothing is in cohesion. They’re at war with themselves, surrounded with battles that bind them.

A man needs a war, that’s what I believe. A war big enough to set him free. A war that will end all these petty battles. “Shoot for the moon, you may land amongst the stars” - they say and I agree. 

Man needs a war, war needs a king and there’s only one king. We’re not in the age when we need to physically protect ourselves. The roadblocks are mental and the destiny is liberation. Honestly, this is the true war. In fact, this has been the true war since time immemorial. No doubt, innumerable wars have been fought. But, what for? Castles, queens and kingdoms. There have been a handful who have been at war for liberation. Because, liberation is the superior, the ultimate, the real, the honest and the only truth. Millions of years of evolution, we are a summary of jungle, built with the sand of the land, moisturised with the dew of the leaves and brushed with the hair of a horse. And, we think we are perfect. A constant tussle in the mind, ever-long longing for peace in the heart - don’t you fight these battles? Billionaires commit suicides as well, so clearly money is not an answer. How could it be? Famous people hate the fame and people with names hate those names, so let’s keep aside fame and name too. We make fool of ourselves chasing these elements believing they are the battles that lead to peace but unfortunately, we see more and more misery. 

Does the goal reside in better experiences for the body? Then, why aren’t sex workers the happiest? Are we really the body, or are an observer of it?

Who is it that feels bad? Who is it that faces these battles? Who is that wants to be liberated?

Consciousness, isn’t it? The consciousness does not need battles, it has seen many. Millions of years of history have been threaded on the cloth of consciousness and it has no interest in these battles. Why? Because battles are temporary. When you were 10 years old, convincing your parents to take you to the town fair seemed a really hard battle to fight, isn’t it? You won. Then you arrived in your teenage years and moving on from that harsh breakup seemed so tough, probably one of the greatest battles you fought, isn’t it? But, you won. You got over it. Now, you want to make a living, you want to earn money, buy a house, a car maybe and go on vacations and my god, what all do you put in for it! Time changes and so do the battles. But, did any of these battles lead you to peace? You’re miserable, more than ever. More than you have ever been. Your battles have grown big now, and so has your want for peace but it’s like catching your own tail. Battles are temporary, battles are deceiving, battles are false.

A war is real. A war big enough that makes you attempt the impossible and makes you perish in the process of it. A war that indulges you in it, absorbs every bit of your consciousness, purifies your conscience and blows your mind out of proportions. A war big enough that consumes every bit of your waking hour and extracts the best out of you. A war that has no end. A war that forces you to kill them who you call your own. A war that kills you from inside but makes you from within. A war that kills and makes you at the same time. A war that gives you rebirth. A war that perishes you at the same time. A war that is causes the massacre of contradictions and logic. A war that you hate. A war that you love, too. A war that sets fire to logic. A war that supersedes god. A war that makes you find you.

A war, that brings you at war.

~Ankit Vats (At War | 29/08/23)

[qiyra]

Bear: Ah, so you've made it this far, mortal. I must admit, I've been anticipating our encounter. Welcome to my domain, the untamed wilderness, where your courage will be put to the ultimate test.

Player: You may think you're the king of these woods, but I won't back down. I've come to prove that I am the true master of this realm.

Bear: (Lets out a low growl) Oh, how audacious. Your confidence is admirable, but misguided. I am the embodiment of primal strength, the apex predator that roams these lands. Your feeble attempts to challenge me are like the whispers of the wind against my mighty roar.

Player: I won't let your intimidating presence scare me away. I've faced fierce adversaries and emerged victorious. You're just another beast to be tamed.

Bear: (Snarls menacingly) Tamed? You speak of taming a force of nature? You underestimate my might. I am the thunder that rumbles, the earthquake that shakes the ground beneath your feet. Prepare yourself, for you stand before a creature that has ruled these lands since time immemorial.

Player: Your power may be overwhelming, but I won't yield to your dominance. I fight for the balance of this wilderness, for the harmony between man and nature.

Bear: (Roars ferociously) Ah, the noble hunter, seeking balance and respect. But you fail to understand. I am the embodiment of the untamed wild, the untethered spirit of these forests. It is through chaos and survival that true harmony is found.

Player: I reject your twisted notion of harmony. I'll use my skills and cunning to overcome your primal strength!

Bear: Bold words, but mere mortal, your skills will falter in the face of my primal fury. Prepare to witness true power, for I am the guardian of this wilderness, the ruler of claw and fang!

Player: I'll face you with unwavering determination! My spirit is unyielding, and I'll prove that even the mightiest beast can be brought to submission!

Bear: Foolish mortal, your determination is like a pebble against a raging river. Prepare to be crushed beneath the weight of my wrath, for your destiny ends here, in the heart of the wild!

(Player and bear engage in an epic, primal clash, with thunderous roars and breathtaking displays of strength.)

[quiveringdeer]

Highland cows are the only cows Sasha would never consider eating. They're too big and floofy and friend shaped. She has a plush of one of them on her bed.

Awww nonnie, thank you for this ask because it gave me a reason to look up more info on highland cows!!

I can definitely see Sasha finding them incredibly cute and even adoring them enough to eventually have a plush or few of them!

I also agree Sasha would probably never eat a Highland cow, but not for the above reasons, in my personal headcanons at least.

My rambling somewhat disjointed thoughts below the line:

Highland cows are known to be fairly low maintenance with upkeep. While their fur can be spun into usable fibers and they produce milk, but meat is their primary function and apparently growing in popularity due to being lower in cholesterol than other forms of beef. 

That said, their meat and products are most likely expensive and I hc Sasha growing up in the Southern Appalachias and not being very wealthy. Her family has been in the region for a long time (since time immemorial in my thoughts of her being Cherokee), and subsists mostly off what they trade for within their community, hunting for meat and other food gathered from the land. They have a decent garden but only big enough for their family and sharing surplus with their community sometimes. So, she wouldn't eat much beef or pork unless they had neighbors raising either of those.

Before researching I had the thought of her family having one she grows up with but don't think they'd have enough land for it. Though, it could roam free with a tag/brand and come when called like back in the day, but that's just me trying to force this desire into existence. And my brain won't let me 😔 Their fur would also likely get caked in mud often due to Southern Apps. being a temperate rainforest. And the summers likely to hot although it's the mountains.

But, Sasha does grow up with a mule and couple of and a grouchy old donkey that was around a long while before she was born!

While Sausha loves them, they have jobs and so aren't really pets. She's also grown up hunting and knowing farmers who raise animals for consumption. I believe that while she would bond with any animal she spends even the shortest period of time with, she also understands that some need to die in order for herself and other humans to eat.

So like if her family did have a cattle ranch or farm raising beef cattle I believe she'd most definitely give all of them names and get to know their individual personalities, even knowing their lives won't be long due to their intended purpose. It'd make her even more determined to treat them kindly and make their shorter lives that much more filled with comfort and love. (can't recall where I saw this but this idea came from a documentary or episode of a food network show with a guy in Italy who raises Wagyu-i think)

It's the same for her while hunting. Having love and respect for the animal as it's alive and even more so after it's life is sacrificed to sustain hers and her loved ones. It's the circle of life and a thought process instilled in her from birth.

So even if she most likely wouldn't buy Highland cow meat for herself or raise them, if someone were to offer it to her in a meal or something she would eat it.

[gagandeepkaur92]

Since time immemorial, man is involved in the search of su-preme peace, happiness and immortality. He has been trying ac-cording to his capability, but this desire of his is not being fulfilled.This is so because he does not have complete knowledge about thepath which will fulfil this desire of his. All living beings want thatthere should be no need to do any work, they should get deliciousfood to eat, should get beautiful clothes to wear, there should bemagnificent palaces to live in, beautiful parks to roam in, melodiousmusic for entertainment, should dance-sing, play-jump, should en-joy without any restraint, and should never fall ill, should never growold, and should never die etc-etc, but the world in which we are liv-ing, here neither is this visible anywhere, nor is possible, becausethis world/lok is destructible and every thing of this lok/world is per-ishable and the king of this lok is Brahm-Kaal who eats one lakhimmaterial (subtle/sukshm) bodies of human beings. He has capturedall the living beings in the cage of the three loks by entangling them inthe net of karm1-bharm2 and sins-virtues. God Kabir says that -

"Kabir, teen lok pinjra bhya paap punya do jaalSabhi jeev bhojan bhaye ek khaane waala KaalGarib, ek paapi ek punyi aaya ek hai soom dalel reBina bhajan koi kaam nahin aavae sab hai jam ki jail re"

Must read the Most popular books

"Gyaan Ganga" for ordering comment below

[moviesonthemove]

Classic Horror Movie Tropes That Are Still Popular Today

Horror movies are jampacked with tropes and clichés that are recycled over and over again since time immemorial. Unlike with other genres, audiences always enjoy these tropes as long as they are used to elevate the story buildup, character development, and frightening experience.

Horror movies don’t have to be a deep and life-changing viewing experience, unlike other genres. Horror movies are the kind of movies shown in the park as they are made for pure entertainment. They make us scared and sometimes laugh.

Have you ever thought up what horror movie tropes have been overused? This article lists some of those. You will find that you recognize each of them, especially if you’re a horror movie fan.

Jump Scare

A horror movie won’t probably be complete nowadays without a jump scare. A jump scare can get the audience sitting at the edge of their seats and raise their alertness by getting the heart rate palpitating and adrenaline rushing through their veins. Even though jump scares add the thrill of watching a horror movie, they sometimes can get old and tiring quickly if they are not used effectively by filmmakers.

Putting jump scares on unnecessary scenes that are not even scary can lose their appeal and even make the audience grow annoyed. When the actual monster or villain shows up, the reveal is already ruined because the jump scares are used so predominantly in the movie that the actual scare doesn’t seem so frightening anymore. Some films forego the use of jump scares and instead build up the queasiness and fear ambience over time to make the audience feel those emotions throughout the entire movie.

The Final Girl

This classic and most popular horror movie trope is usually found in the slasher and/or gore horror subgenre. It usually features a group of teenagers going on a trip or hanging out together and they get killed one by one until one person (usually a girl) fights the villain and survives the whole ordeal. The final girl is usually the innocent, mousy-looking girl who escapes and defeats the villain through a mix of sheer luck, resourcefulness, and determination.

This trope is so popular that this has been a subject of critical analysis and discourse by film critics, researchers, and enthusiasts. Although this trope has been so overused, it still works and audiences eat this up every single time. Even though it may be unrealistic at times, audiences love to watch the final girl and cheer her on as she fights off the villain and overcoming all the impossible obstacles that almost cost her life.

The Vindictive Ghost

Another popular horror movie trope is a ghost or a spirit who carries a grudge against the living and does all catastrophic things to make their lives miserable. Their backstories usually go as follows: The ghost was once a living human being that was being treated unfairly by others and was tragically killed. Now, it roams around the earth to do its revenge on humans who invade its space or those who remind it of its perpetrators. The main (living) characters discover the truth about them and eventually, come up with a solution to right the wrong so they can bring peace to the bitter ghost to let it finally rest forever. Paranormal horror movies usually use this trope.  

Evil Clown

Clowns nowadays have earned the bad rep of being merciless brutal psycho killers thanks to countless horror movies that feature evil and crazed clowns. In a way, clowns are interesting villains because they are originally perceived as friendly and funny entertainers that adults and kids enjoy watching; but they also mask a nightmarish personality behind their smiling masks. The juxtaposition of these two contrasting personalities meshing together in blurred lines creates a chilling and malignant villain. This trope is so successfully used that a lot of people in real life have a genuine fear of clowns. 

Halloween is looming ahead and it’s the perfect time to binge-watch horror movies and scare yourself silly. However, for this year,  why don’t you elevate the “scary” experience by watching it with your friends? It’s a surefire way of having a great and memorable time as you get scared and scream yourselves hoarse at the scary scenes and lose yourselves in stitches every time you watch a scene where a character gets killed most brutally. If this is your and your friends’ idea of fun, then why don’t you organize a movie night outside? 

Horror movies are the perfect outdoor movies for groups since everyone enjoys watching these movies in the comfort of having people around as the experience tends to get less scary and more enjoyable. Plus, everyone can bond together as they talk about the movie after it ends. You can do it in a backyard or driveway and set up makeshift beds and chairs (with blankets and pillows) for a comfortable watching experience, a projector, and a blank canvas to project your movie. Don’t forget to bring food and refreshments to keep everyone’s belly full and use a distraction when the scariest scenes come up.

[twf2020]

Do we really need zoos?

Zoos have been a part of our lives since time immemorial, but do animals really need zoos? Or are they mere show pieces for man to admire?

Though the wealthy have always owned exotic and wild animals, they did not resemble the modern-day zoo. The first zoos were created as a private collection of the wealthy. These collections were called menageries and often employed animal handlers to take care of them. Cave paintings and wall carvings are proof enough that menageries were in existence as early as 2500BC. Monarchs, when returning from expeditions brought back native and exotic wild animals as souvenirs and expanded their collection. Menageries were found all over the world in China, Egypt and England. The modern zoo took a while to come into existence.

The earliest known modern zoo is Menagerie du Jardin des Plantes in France, founded in 1794. The menageries of French aristocrats, including the king and queen were collected by the French Revolution and added to the zoo. But the zoos were more like museums for live animals, with most of them being kept in small areas in glass cases or cramped cages solely for display.

So how do zoos contribute to conservation?

Zoos, can be both an ex situ and in situ method of wildlife conservation depending on the species population and their natural habitat. Perhaps the animals from the early 1900s and a few decades later, did not require zoos. Urbanisation and industrialisation were not as widespread and species populations were comparatively stable and animals thrived in their natural habitats, but with time and man’s increasing interference with nature, wild animals were killed for reasons ranging from food for survival to hunting games. As man got more comfortable in forest terrain, the decline of wild animals began.

Man’s curiosity is one that is not easily satisfied, the desire to see different wild animals in one place incited the formation of the aforementioned displays. These animals tortured by the lack of space, improper and inadequate food became a source of entertainment for the world. The dichotomy is not lost. While some believed that nature must be respected and preserved as is, others want to curb and destroy its very wilderness by bringing them to zoos.

But are zoos ethical?

A map of zoos and mini zoos found all over the world (Image source: Wikipedia)

Do zoos continue to remain places of abuse? Has the world not changed with time and have we as humans not realised our mistakes? To a large extent, zoos are extremely different nowadays, with adequate space provided for the animal to roam around, employment of specialised personnel who are well informed on the requirements of the specific animal. They are not put in cages in several places, but there are still exceptions.

We have reached a point where animal protection laws are more prevalent than they were years ago, with strict rules and regulations that must be followed. No matter how much we try to deny it, zoos are information hubs. This allows for scientists to be able to study different species and educate the public about the same.

What about the unnatural enclosures?

Zoos can be of different kinds based on their geographical locations and purpose. Urban and suburban zoos are the quintessential zoos, with most of the animals being taken from their natural habitats and being introduced to simulations of their habitats in cities and metropolitans. Urban zoos sometimes have animals in small enclosures, which is a point of contention among animal lovers and conservationists. There are several other zoos that have now expanded to a very large extent allowing for sprawling grounds for their animal residents. Originating from zoos are also national parks and wildlife reserves, where wild animals are protected in their natural habitat permitting very little or close to no human activity in their proximity to ensure minimal human disturbance. These do not pose problems as animals thrive where they truly belong, but zoos remain a point of debate.

Extinct in the Wild!

What started off as a way for biologists to study wild animals and a source of entertainment to mankind, has now become a key component in wildlife conservation. The IUCN Red List identifies 39 animal and 39 plant species as extinct in wild, meaning zoos are the only places you will find these species. Zoos serve as a great rehabilitation resource and allow for man to intervene in a positive manner, study their mating and reproduction patterns to devise conservation schemes for specific species. Breeding programmes are put in place, to potentially reintroduce critically endangered species in the wild.

For example, the Californian Condor, in the early 1980s had only about 30 odd surviving members in the wild. They were taken to zoos and now there are about 400 members. Breeding in captivity is favourable as all external and internal conditions to a large extent can be altered to be conducive for reproduction. Another cause for extinction in wild that is often unnoticed is diseases.

When in their natural habitats, these are left untreated and in severe cases can cause rapid transmission and death in wild populations, but wildlife veterinarians can help these animals by treating them with the right kind of drugs and assist them in their recovery. Zoos are a great way to introduce children and people of all ages to the animal world. They raise a lot of funds, which can in turn be used for conservation programmes in association with other organisations.

Conclusion

There are two sides to the coin like always. Zoos are still places where animals are held captive outside of their true homes. A lot of research has been done on the ‘zoo visitor effect’ wherein the animals showed both positive and negative deviations from their normal behaviour. In some cases, interaction of public with animals has been linked to increased aggression and reducing social interactions, whereas there has been an increase in activity levels in certain species. Introduction of animals to zoos can also cause the loss of sex-specific behaviour and genetic diversity. Unlike a national park or a wildlife reserve, a zoo will never match up to natural habitat.

Animals like dolphins, elephants, bears and birds are used for entertainment in several established zoos. As humans we must not forget the fact that they are “wild animals” for a reason. These animals have to be transported in small boxes and cages, and reintroduction after breeding in captivity, is tricky as the animals need to reacclimatise to the environment and their survival is also dependent on the status of their ecosystem.

So, the question remains, are zoos important for conservation? Absolutely, but what you can do to be mindful is proper research on the kind of zoos around you, the work they do, how they treat their animals and how efficiently they use their funds. The future of zoos lies in understanding the extent of human intervention and being mindful of the kind of animals being rehabilitated, using it as an effective tool to preserve biodiversity. Zoos are ever-evolving, and it isn’t just animals in cages anymore, it’s about awareness, the power of knowledge and the respect we have for our co inhabitants.

This was first published on Think Wildlife Foundation.

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[alphacygni]

from By the Book

Lucius’s eyes roamed nervously as Ed closed the door behind them. No one ever came in Ed’s quarters, on pain of…well, Ed hadn’t actually threatened anything. It was pretty much understood it would be fairly unpleasant.

They stared at each other for a few seconds. The only sound was the creak of the ship, the static of the waves.

“Soooo,” Lucius tried. 

Ed stared.

“Haven’t, uh, haven’t changed your mind about that face stabbing, have you?” He was sweating. “Or…did you need me to write something or—”

“No, I want you to…” He pulled the book out of his vest, rifling for the page. “I want you to, uh, to read something.” He found the page and held it out. “And I’m still on the fence about the face-stabbing so, uh, keep that in mind before you get talkative about it, eh?” 

“Right. Yeah. Reading now.” He took the book with enthusiasm. “Uh, okay, this bit?” 

Ed nodded. Shit. The boy already knew, probably, but it still felt like too much of a bloody admission.

“Ok. 'Flower language. Since time immemorial, the giving of flowers has been a declaration of love, be it platonic, familial, or romantic. But it does not do to simply pick whatever buds dot the heather or grow in the hothouse. Each flower conveys a unique message, and selection of the appropriate flower is as vital to conveying one’s feelings as the words one might speak. A white lily speaks of a love that is pure, while a white carnation simply says the giver cannot requite the feelings—’”

“Yeah, ok,” Ed interrupted, grabbing the book and pointing. “What about this one?” He pointed at the illustration of a small spray of white buds, delicate and less showy than those around it. 

“Oh, yeah, um, let’s see that one is, uh… ‘The blossom of the citrus sinensis tree, or the ‘orange blossom,’ is typically associated with devotion and longing. Because it is often worn by brides at their wedding, it is also associated with intentions of marriage or intimate relations .’” 

When Ed didn’t say anything, Lucius looked up. “Is…I mean, do you want me to read more or…?”

But Ed wasn’t listening. He was thinking about the small spray of white flowers he had tucked, careful, beside the silk in his vest.

They’d just climbed back aboard, and he’d joined Stede in his quarters to celebrate the “incredible treasure” they’d unearthed. Stede had set the orange just so on his desk and beamed, and Ed had done his best to indulge it.

Oh, and just so you don’t come back from our adventure empty-handed , Stede had added and pulled the flowers from his pocket. For you, Captain.

Ed had recognized them from the book immediately. He’d been waiting all night for his “co-captain” to go to sleep so he could swipe the book and look it up.

“Flower-fucking-language,” was all he could say. 

“Yeah. It’s a bit much, isn’t it? I mean—” The boy stopped. Looked at him with the same eyes as he had earlier in the day over spit-roasted snake. “Orange blossoms. Did the Captain…?” He didn’t seem to know how to finish the question in a way that would ensure his face remained intact.

Shit, Ed needed his pipe. He hadn’t had enough brandy for this.

Lucius seemed to take this as confirmation. “Oh, wow. That’s… Well it’s actually kind of sweet, isn’t it? I mean, the two—”

The look Ed gave him put a stop to that.

“Right. Not sweet. Just…I’m sorry, do you not want his—” he glanced back at the book for a moment, “his ‘devotion and longing’? Because if not, it looks like you just give him a white carnation and—”

“I’m not giving anyone a fucking carnation,” Ed grumbled casting about for wherever the hell he’d put his matches. Shit. 

“Ooookay…is that because you’re Blackbeard and you don’t give flowers or because you are interested…?” Lucius’s voice petered slightly, but the boy managed to not be deterred by Ed’s unblinking stare. 

Ed didn’t respond. He…he wasn’t sure.

I mean, of course he was interested. In fact, he had already gone well past the point of interested, even  if he couldn’t say which fucking plant meant ‘I want you to hold me and take me gently in that stupid soft silk bed of yours.’ 

But…what if Stede wasn’t…Stede didn’t really know him. And Stede hadn’t exactly gone for any of his advances thus far.

Maybe he had to do it like this, then, for Stede. More gentleman, less pirate. He needed to find flowers or…or…

“Oh!” The boy exclaimed out of nowhere and turned the book around for him to see. It was a lot of fucking words that meant nothing to him. “It says to learn your beloved’s favorite cake and deliver it as a surprise. The orange cake, that was for you wasn’t it?”

Ed might have been upset by the slavering excitement in Lucius’s eyes if he hadn’t felt a tingle of the same thing himself. “Uh, yeah. I mean, he gave me an orange cake. For my—my birthday.” Ed hadn’t wanted to make a big deal out of it: he hated that sort of thing. But Stede had brought the cake, said he knew how much Ed liked the marmalade, and it just seemed right. Been fucking amazing, too.

“And…let’s see…” Lucius was flipping through the pages, skimming excitedly. “Okay…oh, ‘arrange an outing .’ I mean, I don’t see treasure hunt on here, but—oh! ‘ A chaperone is required for propriety’s sake ’--that’s me! ‘ But take someone who is already invested in and aware of your intentions and feelings ’--oh my God. I so am. I’m so invested.” 

Something about the brightness of the boy’s smile allowed his own to surface slightly. Get over yourself and admit it , the boy had said. Yeah, maybe he was right.

Ed swallowed. “Yeah, um…me too, I think.”

Lucius made a sound not unlike a proud mother, and it looked for all the world as if he would give Ed a hug.

Ed took a step back. 

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair. Sure.” Lucius cleared his throat and returned to the book. “So, then. You’re going to want to flirt back, of course. Let’s see what we’ve got here. There’s…poetry? Know any good love poems?”

Ed paused, tried to remember. “Um, ‘there once was a man from Nantucket, who—”

“Okay, not poetry then…let’s see. Maybe a gift. What sorts of things do you think the Captain would like?”

“How should I know? He likes fuckin’...fuckin’ fancy things. Besides, he’s got everything anyway.”

“Hmm. Strong point.” The boy flipped a few more pages. “Still, there’s got to be something—what do you get for the gentleman pirate who has everything?”

Ed grabbed the book from him. He knew exactly what he was looking for, but he didn’t know—

He stopped. There it was. The man bowed low, lips close to the hand of his young lady. 

He pushed the book back at Lucius and tapped at it certainly. “This one. What’s this say?”

Lucius’s eyebrows raised seeing the picture, but he didn’t give whatever commentary was clearly on his mind. “Okay. It’s…oh. Actually, this might be good. It’s about dancing.”

Shit. “Dancing? That doesn’t, I mean—the picture—”

“‘A ball—or even, if need be, a less formal country dance—can be the perfect place for men of passion to express their affections in a more physical and elegant form. ’”

Alright…that was better. Physical, that sounded like him. Elegant, that was Stede. “A…a dance? Is that, uh, I mean, we could…maybe…do that?”

Lucius looked at him for a moment, smiling wide. 

It did, honestly, make him want to stab the boy in the face.

But then Lucius nodded. “Yeah. Leave it to me. We’re doing it.”

Read more on AO3

[vannahfanfics]

The Lovers’ Plum

Category: Romantic Drama

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Ochako Uraraka, Katsuki Bakugo

Additional Tags: Supernatural AU; Feudal Japan AU

Hello, everyone! It’s my pleasure to present the story I wrote for the @bokunoyokaibang​, “The Lovers’ Plum”! I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please go give some love to my talented partner, @malware-incorporated​, who illustrated the story for me! 

The Coming of the Plum Tree Spirit

The early afternoon breeze rustled the thin branches of the solitary plum tree, filling the air with a dull clattering as the sticks clacked against one another. The tiny limbs were laden with small pink buds; as the wind washed over them, their silken petals were plucked hence, wafting over the light winds before spiraling down to the emerald grass below. The lone plant stood sentinel atop a gently sloped hill overlooking the clustering huts of a humble Japanese fishing settlement three days’ ride from Edo. Its voluminous bulk had overseen the gushing river since before man had ventured to its shores, and if luck be true, would behold its gentle majesty for many moons to come. Many cycles it had lived, turning pink with blossom and green with fruit and naked with winter’s cold. In an odd twist of fate, it had also born witness to a particular phenomenon of humans- burgeoning love.

Springtime often brought them forth to plead beneath the plum tree. Young girls, and even boys from time to time, hiked the well-worn path from the outskirts of the village to the plum tree’s throne, where they would kneel and clasp their hands in prayer. With tears blossoming in the corners of their entreating eyes, they would implore the ancient being for good fortune in their romantic endeavors. No one was quite sure how the sacred ritual began; humans were notorious for the spontaneous creation of folktales and legends, however. Perhaps one spirited little mind dreamt of a doomed romance beneath the fruit-laden branches, and myth watered its roots, turning the quaint plum tree into a being mystical and divine. Of course, a plum tree is but a plum tree; that is, until it isn’t.

The plum tree spirit, who knew not of the conventions of calendars and days in the early stages of her life, could not say when she had blinked into existence. One fine morning where the birds hopped about the tree’s branches to feast on its ripe purple-red fruits, she had simply blinked awake. Contained within the thick trunk of the tree, she gazed upon the world with fresh new eyes and beheld the majesty of the earth. She ventured out, pale and naked, to touch to grass blades to find them remarkably soft, and to chase the butterflies flitting over the wildflowers. She gasped in delight as the wispy white seeds scattered at her steps, taking to the wind to float away into the wild blue yonder and hopefully take root. The sun was warm on her skin, and the breeze gentle through her chestnut hair. The sky above blazed in resplendent blue, stained by the puffy masses of white clouds.

The plum tree spirit, though she knew not, was a minor god brought forth by the supplicant prayers of hopeful youths.

The newborn spirit spent the first few days of her life playing amongst the wild grasses and flowers, growing bolder day by day. She greeted the mother doe and her fumbling fawn, running ethereal fingers over the spotted fur. She hopped with a tawny spotted rabbit through the golden forest grass and delighted at the yellow tufts that tickled her cheeks and nose. She curled beneath the sprawling blanket of the plum tree’s fruit-laden branches, nibbling at the succulent fruit and admiring the light playing through the emerald leaves. She even crept through the bushes along the small trail to catch glimpses of the thatch-and-wood houses and their residents, who hauled baskets laden with trout and shellfish from the river. Upon her first glimpse of them, the new god realized her corporeal form resembled the female humans’; however, they did not roam about uncovered like she. She studied the strange garments they cloaked themselves with and found that if she simply willed it into being, the cloth materialized and draped over her body. A kimono, they called it. The plum tree spirit imbued it with a lovely pink hue, the exact shade of her tree’s vivid petals.

The humans were like her in body, but the tree spirit knew that she was not human. As she lounged beneath the tree watching the sun sink below the horizon each day, she could not help but wonder what kind of being that she was, and why she was there. She had attempted to speak to the trees along the path, the black pines and red pines and white pines, but they were hollow and voiceless. It seemed that she was alone in this vast full world, a unique and singular existence.  

The first days of her life were thus, though filled with the wonder of novelty, extraordinarily lonely.

The Coming of Her Purpose

The plum tree spirit awoke to the sound of hushed giggles. She had discovered that unless she desired it, humans could not see her; up until that point, she had rendered herself invisible, for she knew not how they would react to her sudden presence. The newborn deity peered through the skinny branches of her birth tree to see three human girls scampering up the path. The young god was delighted at their appearance, for perhaps their visit would provide insight into her anomalous presence. Curiously, she watched the girl in front, a beautiful woman with fluffy black hair pinned atop her head, kneel on the ground before the plum tree, and clasp her hands together tightly.

“O, great plum tree that has stood since time immemorial,” the villager announced loudly, “I humbly beseech thee to grant my wish.” The spirit’s ears perked. Wishes? Do I exist to grant the wishes of humans? The god stared at her hands, flexing her fingers. She couldn’t fathom possessing an inherent power to grant the prayers of mortals. Yet, if I exist for this purpose, I must try, she frowned. The girl’s black eyes bored into the cocoa-brown bark of the plum tree with a desperate intensity. “Please, O Goddess of the Lovers’ Plum, please bring me fair fortune!”

One of the girls behind her, a stoic one with short purple-black hair, frowned sardonically.

“Momo, you don’t really believe that nonsense that praying to the plum tree will lead to you meeting your future lover in seven days, right?” she sighed with a shake of her head, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s just an old folktale. I can’t believe you dragged me up here for this…”

“Hush, Kyoka!” the praying girl, evidently named Momo, hissed with an affronted glance over her shoulder. “You’ll anger the spirit, and she won’t grant my wish!” Kyoko’s dissidence indeed angered the tree spirit. Still, she would not spurn the willful young lady for that. Instead, the youthful god grinned and sent a plum falling from the branches above her head. Kyoka yelped as the fruit slammed into her scalp. The plum burst open to spill sticky juice and yellow flesh into her hair. She whined miserably as it dripped onto the white fabric of her kimono. The other companion, a smiling young lady with hair pink like carnations, laughed mirthfully.

“You see, Kyoka? You’ve angered the goddess!”

“Shut up, Mina,” Kyoka growled and disdainfully brushed the clumps of fruit from her head and shoulders. The tree spirit giggled mischievously and returned her attention to the prostrate girl. She had rested her hands on her lap and was staring miserably at the earth. Invisible to their eyes, the young god knelt beside her, staring intently at her forlorn expression. She had realized that humans experienced a phenomenon known as “emotions,” and this one was akin to sadness.

“… I am but a humble seamstress,” Momo lamented woefully. “I beg my father to allow us to travel to Edo and take up shop there so that we may live a better life, but he is adamant we remain by the river. Our family has always resided here, from the time of his grandfather’s grandfather.” Her eyes became lidded as her bottom lip wobbled. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and the tree spirit brushed them away with her fingertips, though the girl likely dismissed it as a mere kiss from the breeze. The god marveled at the glistening tear decorating her finger, a bead of water like dew. She tasted it and then spat it out, finding it to be unbearably salty.

“I wish to meet a man who can spirit me far away from this miserable land!” Momo cried and laid the back of her hand to her forehead in misery. “I wish to see grand things, and sell fine silks to lords and ladies, and live a life of plenty and comfort… Not scrounge for scraps on the shores of a river,” she complained bitterly. The tree spirit was unsure why such a living was undesirable to a human, but then, many of their ways were foreign to her.

“Momo, we have to get going,” Kyoka frowned and glanced down the path leading back to the settlement. “Your mother will be looking for you to mind the shop.”

“Yes, yes,” Momo sighed and rose, brushing the dirt from the fabric covering her knees. The tree spirit hurriedly jumped to her feet, wracking her brain for a manner in which to grant the wish. She elected to follow her instincts.

“Your prayer has been heard, and I grant you my blessing. Go forth and may love find you quickly,” the young god recited and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Momo’s forehead. The girl could not see or hear her, but yet, she blushed slightly and ran her fingertips over the skin there.

“I feel like the goddess heard me,” Momo remarked joyfully to her friends as she trounced over to them. Mina grabbed her arm excitedly and beamed, while Kyoka rolled her eyes but smiled. The spirit watched them meander back down the trail; soon, their avid discussion of young love and hope faded into the sound of rustling leaves and birdsong. She then smiled and squealed and jumped up and down with glee.

At last, the tree spirit knew her purpose.

The tree spirit took to her newfound mission with fervor. Many came to pray to the tree for fair fortune. The god was delighted to find that young Momo had met a fisherman who traveled the length of the river to sell iron-forged weapons seven days after her appeal, and the two fell madly in love. She had immigrated to Edo and now sold hand-crafted kimonos to all manners of folk. The god only had a rudimentary understanding of love, but she could comprehend that love made the humans happy. Summer passed into winter, which moved into the spring. Nine months after she had come into being, the naïve but kind-hearted god met the human who would teach her what it truly meant to love another.  

The Coming of Katsuki Bakugo

It was the height of May. The tree spirit had learned the calendar year through her furtive observations of the humans. The air simmered with the sun’s blazing heat, so the tree spirit cooled herself beneath the shady sprawl of her home tree, humming a tune she had learned by watching a washerwoman. She perked up when she heard the unmistakable crunch of sandals upon hard, dried dirt. Sitting up straight and tucking her legs underneath her body, she patiently awaited the arrival of her latest patron. She cocked her head slightly when the muscular form of a man tromped around the corner.

He reminded her of the fishermen- toned and lean, with powerful, thick thighs and bulging arms. He was not dressed in the garb of fishermen, however. The boatmen wore light fabrics that covered their entire body to shield them from the sun’s harsh rays, while this man wore a yukata of thick maroon cloth, with no sleeves and a hem that reached only to his knees. A red-and-white woven rope wound around his forehead. The fishermen were quite a merry bunch, as well, with smiles always alighting their faces and bawdy songs spilling from their lungs, but this human greeted the invisible goddess with a moody scowl. She fidgeted before him, wondering what could cause such irritation.

He stopped in front of the plum tree and gave it a brief once-over. He then snorted and flopped down on his side underneath its shady leaves, holding a hand to his mouth as he yawned. The god observed him fascinatedly, for no human had ever behaved in such a manner before.

“Goddess of the tree or whatever you are,” he droned disinterestedly, “I hope you don’t mind if I take a nap here. It’s hot as shit today.” The little god flushed, recognizing his language as coarse. She inspected him closer to find his brown skin sheened with sweat, and his hands calloused from toil. So he is a laborer, she concluded. She was a goddess and was thus charged with the care of humans, so she supposed allowing the worker to shelter beneath her birth tree was acceptable. She frowned, wishing the plums were in season so she could grant him some fruit to eat. It mattered not, for he was already snoring, resting his head against his arm. The plum tree spirit smiled and stroked his back soothingly.

“Sleep well beneath my blossoms, human man, and recover your strength. I bless you with good fortune in your future endeavors.” She knew he could not hear her, but she fancied he did, because he grunted in his sleep. As he slept beneath her branches, the god observed him critically. He was quite handsome, for a human, with chiseled rugged features and ash-blond hair. His eyes were a brilliant vermilion like the wild red roses that grew along the hill path. She wondered if he did not need to pray for love, because surely such a beautiful human man would be popular among young ladies.

The young man rested for about an hour, until the sun had passed its height to begin its slow descent. He likely would have slept for longer, had it not been for the angry shouting that floated up the hill. The tree spirit straightened up, peering into the greenery as the cursing and yelling grew louder. The human man groaned and scowling, cracking one of his red eyes open to glare reproachfully at the small gap in the bushes that marked the entrance to the hilltop. A man dressed in similar garb, only green, charged through the brambles, red-faced and chest heaving.

“Katsuki Bakugo! What the hell are you doing up here, lounging like a house cat?! You had seventeen orders to fill today!” the angry human scolded. The vermilion-eyed laborer, whom the goddess now knew as Katsuki, scowled condescendingly.

“I filled them, so I came up here to take a nap. Tell me, old man, how much time have you wasted looking for me when you could have been bartering with the tradesmen on the river?” Katsuki remarked and studied the cuticles of his nails. The tree spirit held a hand to her mouth, appalled by the level of disrespect. From what she understood, Katsuki was subservient to this new man, and therefore ought to treat him with honor and dignity. His words carried the tone of anything but. Katsuki sneered as his superior could only sputter and turn the color of a tomato. “Uh-huh.”

“You’re so lucky you’re Mitsuki’s son, or I would fire you in an instant!” the man fumed and stamped his foot. Katsuki frowned and stared unapprovingly up at him. “I owe a life debt to your mother and offer you a place in my business, and this is how you repay me? Sneaking off after you do the bare minimum?!”

“All right, all right, old man, you’re gonna bust my eardrum,” Katsuki grimaced, digging a finger deep into one of his ear canals. Leisurely, he lifted himself into a sitting position. “If you wanted me to stay in the shop to pick up the slack of those other extras, you shoulda said so.” The man growled and pointed a bright red finger at Katsuki but decided that further argument was worthless. He whirled on his heel to tromp back down the pathway, while Katsuki laughed mischievously and shouted after him, “I’m gonna inherit your business one day, you old fart! Watch me!” The plum tree spirit was baffled by the entire exchange, but yet, she could not help but find the spirited young human captivating.

“Bah. Old asshole,” Katsuki huffed and rubbed the short hairs at the base of his neck while he climbed to his feet. He made to begin walking, but then glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. The goddess would have been directly within his line of sight if he could see her. “… Thank you for allowing me to rest here,” he said with a slight bow.

Then he was gone, stomping off into the bushes. The spirit craned her head to watch the ash-blond tufts of his hair vanish amongst the green. After he melted into the wilderness, she reclined against the thin trunk of the plum tree with a small smile. What an interesting human, she thought jubilantly. I wonder if I shall ever see him again.

The Coming of Ochako

Ironically enough, Katsuki Bakugo did return the following day- and the next and the next, every day for more than the plum tree spirit could keep count. He would always come to snooze the height of the afternoon away, and then be hauled off by his disgruntled boss. Without fail, Katsuki would thank her for graciously sheltering him from the heat. The young goddess soon looked forward to his coming every afternoon- and began to muster up the courage to appear before a human for the first time.

The blossoms had born fruit, and emerald leaves had sprouted by the time she made her move. He came just as he came every day, sauntering up the path to toss himself to the ground unceremoniously. This time, she hovered behind the skinny tree trunk, peering through the small bough to watch him march up the hill. I must be brave! I must make myself known to this human, she told herself. She hovered behind the plum tree, her pink kimono ruffling in the summer breeze, and held her breath as his ash-blond hair appeared above the fringe of the tall bushes. His bulky form soon followed. When his red eyes landed on her, he froze mid-step.

“I, um,” he stammered with an embarrassed blush rising to his cheeks. He pointed quickly down the path. “I can come back later; no one usually comes to pray at this time…”

“No, no!” she squeaked, scurrying out from her hiding spot as he began to turn. “Please stay. I’m not praying here.” His expression grew even more confused, but he obediently remained rooted to the spot. Flushing, the plum tree spirit bowed low. “I am the spirit of the plum tree. I have much desired to meet you formally.” She peeked between the chestnut waves of her locks to witness his reaction. His mouth hung open in shock for a few seconds, and those vermilion eyes beheld her in wonder.

He then began to cackle with loud laughter.

“Bahahahaha! What a joke!” he howled. She straightened up with knitted eyebrows as he sniggered uncontrollably. He held his belly and doubled over, tears dripping from his blond lashes as his entire body shook. “My dickhead of a boss musta put you up to this. How much did he pay you, huh? Plum tree spirit… Pffft, as if!”

“How dare you!” she fumed. She balled up her fists and stamped her feet angrily. The branches of the plum tree began to writhe and quiver despite there being no gale, and the purple fruits started to plummet to the earth. They burst open in showers of gold, scattering their large pods. “I really am the spirit of the plum tree! What a rude human you are, to belittle me when I have allowed you to sleep under my protection for weeks now!” The shadows of the plum tree began to grow blacker and stretch with a dark malice. Katsuki yelped and began to back-pedal; he tripped over his own feet and landed on his rump.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait! I’m sorry!” he protested, waving his hands in surrender as he regarded her with a frightened expression. “It’s just- I don’t- you don’t look like a god.”

“Well, a god I am, so you shall respect me as such!” she huffed and crossed her arms. However, she was satisfied with his acknowledgment, so she relaxed. The plum tree returned to normal, though the sickly-sweet aroma of plums now hung in the air. She regarded the busted fruit with a frown. It would not go to waste, as the birds and beasts would feast upon the succulent flesh, but it was still a shame to make a mess of the place. Katsuki slowly sat up, still gawking at her with a mixture of wonder and awe.

“What’s your name?”

“Name? I do not have one,” she answered, pressing her finger to her lips. “I was not given one. I am simply the spirit of the plum tree.”

“That’s a mouthful,” he snorted. He seemed more at ease now; he was sitting on his haunches, with his legs drawn up and his muscular arms draped over his knees. He pondered for a moment, then smirked. “How about ‘Ochako’? Does that please you, Miss Goddess?” His tone was teasing, but his smirk made her heart race for a reason other than ire. She shuffled her feet and wrung the fold of her kimono nervously.

“O-ochako will do just fine.”

“Ochako, then. My name’s Katsuki.” Ochako supposed she could reply that she was very much aware, but it was customary for humans to introduce themselves, so she refrained. “I make fireworks.”

“Fireworks?” she inquired. In all her time observing the humans, she had not heard such a term. His face visibly brightened at her ignorance.

“Yeah, fireworks! They’re made by combining gunpowder with dyes and other compounds. Then you light them with fire, and they shoot up into the sky to explode into a huge blast of color!” he grinned, gesturing with his hands. Ochako’s brown eyes widened with wonder. Even with his description, she could not imagine such a magnificent display. He leaned back on his hands and smiled warmly at her. “I sailed in with the old man from Edo. Every year, this little backwater village holds a festival to celebrate the river god. It draws in people from all over the country, surprisingly. Me and the old man sail here in May to prepare, and trade with the locals, too, and then in August, we launch all the fireworks to honor the god.” He paused with a frown. “You’re a god here, so surely you must have seen it?” he frowned. Ochako shook her head.

“No. I was born only last summer, very late.” she frowned. “There are many things of this world that I have yet to know and see…” Katsuki grimaced and regarded her curiously.

“How were you born?”

“I am not entirely sure, but I believe I came from the wishes of the locals,” she said with a glance of the plum-laden tree. She smiled wistfully, thinking back to her first prayer, Momo the seamstress. “I came from the hope in their hearts to help grant them fortune in the endeavors of true love. I am not sure if I possess any real power, but I give them my blessing, all the same.” She glanced back at him with a light laugh. “Truth be told, when you first climbed this hill, I thought that you were coming to pray, not sleep!” Katsuki blushed and shifted a little on the ground. “But you are such a handsome human, so surely you don’t need my blessings. I am sure you already have a fine wife.” His face turned the color of her kimono, and he looked away with a pout. Ochako raised her eyebrows. “Am I mistaken…?”

“Yup. Don’t really have time for a woman. We travel all throughout Japan sellin’ fireworks and all. Not too many gals are willin’ to live a life like that,” he said quietly. Ochako detected a hint of bitterness in his voice. Expression concerned, she walked over to kneel beside him, tucking her kimono under her calves.

“Would you like me to give you my blessing?”

“Nah,” he laughed and smiled confidently at her. “I just came here to nap.” Ochako giggled, holding her hand to her mouth like she often saw the refined ladies that sometimes sailed into the village did.

“Very well. I can grant that wish.” She rose and gestured to the circle of shade surrounding the plum tree. Katsuki followed her over, and she knelt once more, then patted the plush of her thighs. He raised a hesitant eyebrow. “It’s all right. I’m sure I am much more comfortable than the ground.” Slowly, he eased himself onto his back perpendicular to her seated form and rested the back of his head on her lap. He wiggled a little to get himself comfortable, then relaxed his hands on his stomach, fingers laced together. His brilliant red eyes sparkled like rubies as they gazed attentively up at her.

“Have you really been alone up here all this time?” he asked her quietly. Ochako blinked, then smiled sweetly and looked out into the quaint little wood surrounding the hill.

“Yes. I am the only one here,” Ochako confirmed, “but it’s all right. I am blessed with the smiles of my patrons and the living creatures of the wood. It may be a solitary life, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It is a fulfilling existence to bring others happiness. I may be but a minor god, but that is my charge. I will accept that role readily.” She glanced down at him to find him smiling kindly.

“When fall comes, and I sail off, I’ll tell everyone about Ochako the Plum Tree Goddess. Soon you’ll be known far and wide, and a shrine will be built in your honor.” Ochako beamed at that, visions of a sparkling and well-tended shrine with mikos blooming in her imagination.

“That would be lovely,” she agreed with a nod. “But until then, I shall be content if you but visit me.” Katsuki laughed.

“Yeah, okay, Ochako.” His red irises vanished beneath his closing eyelids. His breathing soon became deep and unlabored. Ochako smiled benignly and stroked his forehead, admiring the softness of his fluffy blond hair.

Yes, she thought blissfully, just keep resting here beneath my boughs, and I shall never be alone.

The Coming of a Goddess’ Love

As promised, Katsuki returned to the Lovers’ Plum every day to speak with Ochako. They sat side-by-side against the thin trunk, and he regaled her with the many, many wonders of the human world. Ochako learned more listening to Katsuki than in her year of secretly observing the humans. She was delighted to learn that they were a very innovative breed, creating a plethora of remarkable tools and novelties. Their creativity and ingenuity were unmatched by any being on this earth.

However, she was also saddened to learn that humans could also be devastatingly violent. Katsuki told her of roving bands of rogues who pillaged farmsteads, of great wars waged between immense hosts of forces, of the seeds of evil that germinated within individuals and caused them to steal and murder and rape. Ochako surmised that it was merely the balance of nature, as light cannot exist without an equal dark, but regardless it still depressed her. Humans were such charming beings. She hated that within them festered the tendencies for destruction.

As June passed into July, the air grew warmer- as did their relationship. They took to wandering the woods, admiring the fanciful splendors of the natural world. On one such occasion, they stumbled upon a vast field of wildflowers- a colorful rainbow as far as the eye could see. Ochako squealed and dove into the blanket of petals, watching as her movements sprung them from their confines, and they raced away on the wind. Her fingers trailed over them, feeling their softness, and her eyes beheld fluttering butterflies and bobbling bumblebees gathering the pollen and feasting on the nectar. When she turned to invite Katsuki into the magical field, he was already right there, tucking a bloom behind her ear and giving her a smile that made her heart race in a manner she had never felt.

“Ochako,” he breathed with a gentle look.

“Yes?”

“You’re beautiful.” His fingers took a swathe of her soft brown hair, his thumb stroking along the strands. She flushed and held a hand to her cheek; she was unable to look at him for her bashfulness. He seemed not to mind her lack of response, for he continued to gaze at her with that smoldering warmth that sent unbridled joy pulsing through her body.

From that day forth, Ochako looked forward to his coming with an overwhelming rapture. One day, at the tail end of July, Katsuki posed the notion of venturing into the village.

“I’m not sure, Katsuki,” she frowned, kneeling amongst the roots of the tree. The fruits were growing overripe and falling from the branches, leaving the grasses sticky and coated with the golden juice. Birds and beasts scrounged for the mushy flesh and seed pods left behind in the fruits’ fermentation. “You are the only human I have ever revealed myself to.”

“You don’t have to tell anyone you’re a god,” he reassured. “Please. I want to enjoy more than just a measly hour or two with you.” Ochako flushed at that, fidgeting as that incredible joy wrapped around her heart like ribbon. Curling a piece of her hair around her finger, she pondered the suggestion. I suppose it’s all right, as long as I pretend that I am human. Thus, she agreed, and Katsuki promised to retrieve her that afternoon around sunset.

After he bid her farewell, Ochako experienced true impatience for the first time. She restlessly paced the small area around her plum tree, and even fidgeted distractedly during the few prayers she granted. The sun seemed to mock her by inching along the blue expanse, refusing to go at a pace more than a snail’s crawl. That was actually one way in which Ochako occupied herself- by watching one of the shelled creatures slide along a large grass blade. When it reached the summit, bending the grass blade under its heavy weight, it wiggled its antenna and pondered its next move. It turned around and began slinking down the way it came.

After what seemed a life age, the blue sky began to bleed with red and orange and gold. The sun melted behind the collection of houses hugging the river. One by one, the settlement’s torches blazed to life, illuminating the area with flickering fire. The thatch roofs caught the sunlight to burn gold, and the few glimpses of the water Ochako could catch from her high perch revealed the river to be sparkling like the stars.

“Katsuki!” Ochako squealed when he came traipsing through the bushes. She rushed to him, beaming, and he affectionately ruffled her bouncy brown hair. She crooned in delight and nuzzled into his palm. Though it was roughened by much toil, it still felt nice when he caressed her.

“Ready?” he asked with an endearing smile. Ochako nodded ecstatically. “Let’s go, then.” She blushed bright pink when he offered her his hand. From the way the village girls talked, holding hands was a romantic gesture, at least within humans their age range. Ochako gulped and timidly reached out to grasp his hand. Her fingers slid alongside his like a mechanism locking into place- naturally. His hand was so warm, and the calloused skin felt pleasurable against her soft palm. Her heart jumped in her throat as he allowed their arms to fall loosely between them, and they swung slightly with every step they took down the path. As the buildings grew larger and larger, she found herself pressing into his hefty frame, as if he could shield her from the unknown.

The village rang with noise, even at night.

The air hummed with pleasant conversation. The denizens lounged on their porches to enjoy the warm summer evening, smoking on pipes and sharing bottles of sake. Children squealed as they chased fireflies in their yards or bounced rubber balls with sticks or wrestled with dogs in the mud. The grass gave way to wooden walkways that connected the houses and extended onto the river, where the fishermen moored their boats. With the coming of night, they had ventured in from the water and were clustered around barrels, laughing raucously as they bet on cards or shogi games. Every once in a while, they would get heated and start brawling, only to tumble into the river and come up laughing. The glow from the braziers cast a warm red glow on everything that complimented the natural light of the full moon above. Ochako’s head swiveled on her neck as she attempted to absorb every detail of the humans’ lives as she could. Katsuki watched her with an amused smirk.

“Here’s where I work,” he announced when they had ventured deep into the waterfront settlement. It was a large building set back from the water. It was open to the air, with only a sloped roof to shield it from the elements. Smoke poured from within, and Ochako’s nose wrinkled at the acrid scent of earthy minerals. “Would you like to see the fireworks?” Ochako nodded eagerly; she had been much enthralled with the human device since their first meeting. Katsuki chuckled and brought her inside.

“Eijirou!” he called as he lifted the cloth flap that served as a door, though large open windows framed either side of it. Large tables stretched throughout the space and were laden with a variety of objects Ochako knew not the name for. A redheaded man came trotting out of the gloom, wiping his hands on a cloth with soot staining his smiling face.

“Hey, Katsuki! Comin’ to burn the midnight oil? We still have a lot to do before the River God Festival.”

“Hell no,” Katsuki snorted derisively. He raised his arm to reveal Ochako, who was hiding behind his massive bulk and peering shyly around his ribs at the newcomer Eijirou. “I came to show her around.”

“Oh, is that so? So, you’re the girl Katsuki’s been sneaking off to see every afternoon,” the redhead grinned with a playful wink. Ochako’s cheeks brightened as she peeked up at Katsuki. Does he talk about me? Katsuki tched and gave Eijirou a dismissive wave, but from the delighted twinkle in his red eyes, Ochako could tell that Katsuki looked upon the other fondly. She gulped and snuck further behind Katsuki’s back as Eijirou approached. He gripped his chin and stepped around the blond to inspect her critically. She pressed her face into Katsuki’s back, peering bashfully at him through the gap in her brown hair. “Well, no wonder our Katsuki is so smitten. You sure are a cutie!”

“Oi! Go make yourself useful, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki growled and shoved Eijirou in the shoulder.

“Hey now, hey now, I’m not intruding,” the redhead smirked and pranced away. “I’m just stating facts, that’s all~!” With a giddy laugh, Eijirou made himself busy assembling the fireworks. Curious now, Ochako peeled herself away from the man to ease over. She froze when Eijirou glanced out of his peripheral vision at her, but he only smiled and continued about his business. She crept up to the table, craning her neck to observe the process. He was loading a multitude of grainy particles into a tube, then capping them with a conical shape. A large pile of them already sat on the edge of the table, hued in blues and greens and reds. She poked one experimentally, then tugged at the black strings on the end.

“Careful,” Katsuki warned and gently pulled her fingers away. “Those are the fuses. We light them to shoot them off. Wouldn’t want these exploding down here,” he smiled gently.

“Yeah, the boss’d really kill you then,” Eijirou snickered. Katsuki scowled and stuck out his tongue at him.

“That old man won’t do shit because he’s too busy pining after my old lady.”

“Yeah,” Eijirou laughed, “your mom sure has fun letting him cling to her skirts. You know he bought her a real ruby hairpin the other day? Are you sure your mom isn’t actually-”

“Hey, you watch it,” Katsuki warned and jabbed a finger into his chest. “My mom would never cheat on my old man with that greasy old fart.” Eijirou laughed and held his hands up in surrender.

“All right, all right, I was just kidding.” Katsuki snorted and grabbed Ochako by her elbow to gently lead her out of the fireworks shop. She hurriedly looked over her shoulder and gave Eijirou a wave of farewell.

“Tch. Shitty smiling jerk,” Katsuki grumbled.

“He seems like a good friend,” Ochako smiled. Katsuki blushed, then shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

“He’s all right. He makes work a hell of a lot less boring.” Ochako snickered at his reluctance to admit his fondness for the boy. It was a very Katsuki thing to do.

They continued to wander the township, eventually arriving upon a stall selling jeweled accessories. Ochako had always admired the hairpins some of the young girls wore when they ventured up to her plum tree and had secretly yearned for a pretty adornment. She released Katsuki’s hand to scamper over to the stall. She cooed over a bright pink one inlaid with round pink gems and styled in the likeness of a plum blossom. The aged man operating the booth smiled kindly.

“Ah, yes. That’s a popular model. The young girls around here fancy it as homage to the Lovers’ Plum.” Ochako blushed as she was unintentionally praised. She held up the hairpin, admiring the way the moonlight played over the crystalline gems. Ochako knew that such items required money to acquire, however, and as a goddess with no human trade, she possessed no funds. A bit blue, she set the hairpin down on the counter- only for Katsuki to throw down a handful of bills.  

“That should cover it, right, old man?” The stall tender pursed his lips and leafed through the wad of cash, handing a few of them back to Katsuki before pushing the hairpin towards Ochako.

“Katsuki, you didn’t have to-” He shushed her and picked up the hairpin. Her eyes widened as he tenderly pushed the accessory into her curling brown hair, pinning the gorgeous flower right above her ear. His hand fell so that his fingertips brushed over her cheekbone, spreading a pink haze in its wake. The pads of his fingers traveled to her mouth, resting over her lips.

“Beautiful.”

It was in that moment that Ochako the plum tree spirit realized that she was head-over-heels in love with the human Katsuki Bakugo.

The Coming of the Colorful Night

A delighted smile graced Ochako’s lips as she admired her reflection in the rain puddle. The flower hairpin glimmered in the sunlight, accenting the rosy blush ever-present in her youthful cheeks. She sighed dreamily and laid on her belly in the damp grass, kicking her feet over her back. She imagined the smirking personage of Katsuki in the water, and the way he smiled so affectionately at her that night. She whispered his name, and just that small action sent tingles of joy flooding through her nerves. With a squeal, she clutched her beating heart and rolled over.

At last, I know what it means to be in love!

It was a wonderful feeling. Ochako knew now why the humans so desperately sought its graces. Her soul felt like it was continually floating on air, giving her a blissful weightless sensation. Her face ached from incessantly smiling, but it was a good ache. She could occupy her mind for hours reminiscing of their many ventures. She sighed wistfully again and watched the breeze toss about the emerald leaves of her tree. The golden light was filtering through, dappling her body with shadow.

Unfortunately, Katsuki would not be visiting today. It was the afternoon of the River God Festival, and the shop owner had insisted on his presence. However, Katsuki did promise to collect her near sundown so that they could watch the fireworks together. When she had inquired if that would anger his boss, he haughtily replied that he didn’t much care. The sun was sinking through the sky, drawing ever closer to the horizon, and Ochako was awaiting his arrival with bated breath.

Tonight, I am going to tell him that I love him!

She rolled onto her belly and watched a ladybird crawl up a blade of grass. Resting her cheek on her forearm and smiling blissfully, she fantasized about her impending confession. Surely, Katsuki loved her as well; she was not ignorant of the way he looked at her. He actively sought out her presence and often called her beautiful or gorgeous, and he always held her hand tightly, as if he never wanted to let go. Then that look in his eyes- that look like he was beholding the most sublime creature on earth, one that held his entire body and soul. If that was not love, then Ochako didn’t know what was.

She hopped to her feet when she heard the familiar sound of footsteps.

“Hey, Ochako,” Katsuki beamed when she jumped up to scuttle over to him. She threw her arms around him in a hug, burying her nose into his sternum and breathing in the strong scent of sulfur and gunpowder that clung to him. She had grown used to the odor and now found it very soothing. His strong arms surrounded her in a returned embrace, and he pressed his face into the top of her head. “Are you ready?” She nodded ecstatically and looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

“Let’s go, hurry so that we can find a good spot!” she demanded and tore away from him to start running down the path. He grabbed her wrist, and she jerked back. When she looked at him confusedly, he gestured to the plum tree. “We’ll be able to see them from here?” she asked and looked down the path again, unsure.

“I promise. After all, all we only need to see the sky,” Katsuki said and pointed above their heads. Ochako looked up with a frown. The sky above the plum tree was remarkably clear and wide, not tainted by the light of the township below. Ochako elected to take him at his word, and they tromped over to the tree, sitting at its base. Their sides pressed together, and Katsuki kept their hands linked, running the pad of his thumb over the top of her hand. It made jolts of electricity travel up her arm, but she loved the feeling.

The sun slowly sank into the river, and the watchful night closed in. One by one, the stars blinked into existence, sparkling like gems in the vast expanse of the blue-black sky. The crescent moon hung low, bathing the world in just enough of its glow to cast long black shadows. The gloom enveloped Ochako and Katsuki like a blanket. Even in the darkness, his ruby eyes glimmered as they flickered to her. His smile curled on his lips, but when she went to speak, he put a finger to his mouth and gestured upwards with his chin.

There was a sound like a shriek, and then a resounding pop. Ochako jumped at the sudden noise, but it was soon forgotten as color exploded against the dark backdrop of the night sky. Ruby-red sparkles filled the air, spreading like tree roots across the blackness before fizzling out. More shrieks sounded in the distance, and the sky came alive with more color than Ochako had ever seen. Her mouth hung open as she gawked shamelessly at the splendorous display unfolding before her.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Yeah. It sure is.” She glanced at him to find him staring right at her. That sweet smile like she was the thing dearest to him graced his lips, and his vermilion eyes glimmered with a roaring flame no water could ever douse. Her heart thumped hard against her ribcage as his gaze dropped down to her lips. She gulped slightly, digging her fingers into the fabric of her kimono, as his hand slowly rose to cup her cheek. “Ochako,” he breathed. His thumb traced a trail across her cheekbone in repetitive caresses. She watched with lidded eyes as the colors played across his face, dull glows of red and blue and green and gold kaleidoscoping in a beautiful array. His face edged closer, and her eyes fell closed in anticipation.

His lips molded over hers like the sweetest honey. Ochako’s chest swelled with a deep inhale at the wondrous feeling. It felt like she had long been lost, and she had finally returned home. She pushed into the kiss, desperate for more contact, and her hands jumped forward to splay across his chest. His hand pushed into her hair to grip the back of her head and angle it, kissing her with more fervor. The fireworks continued to explode overhead, but Ochako no longer thought them magical. No, the magical thing was this man in front of her, the man who had appeared so suddenly one day and taught her what it meant to love.

When they pulled apart, tears glimmered in her eyes.

“Katsuki. Katsuki, I love you,” she blurted. The words had ballooned within her, filling her chest with a painful tightness. She suddenly had the suspicion she was going to disappear, perhaps even before her waking eyes. “I love you so much. Please, I-” He gently shushed her and placed two fingers over her lips, then leaned in to press a sweeter, chaste kiss to her mouth. His other hand fell to grasp hers and interlace their fingers.

“I love you too, Ochako,” he murmured against her mouth, eyes still closed. Ochako groaned and melted against him, savoring their way their parted lips meshed and their breath mixed in the warm night air. He gripped her hips and pushed against her, and her body obeyed his silent command, laying back into the cool grass. He climbed atop her, her legs slotting perfectly before his spread knees, and he began to pepper her face with little kisses.

“I’m so fucking grateful I stumbled upon this fucking plum tree-” he growled, his kisses becoming more fervent and open-mouthed. Ochako mewled as he dropped his head to plant lingering, ardent kisses along the column of her neck. His hands kneaded the plush flesh of her hips. She threaded her fingers into his tousled ash-blond hair and peered through her lashes. The emerald leaves of the plum tree blanketed them, and beyond that bloomed a brilliant night sky alive with all the colors of the universe.

There, with only the plum tree and that sky to bear witness, Ochako and Katsuki sealed their love for one another forevermore.

The Coming of the End

Katsuki didn’t come the following day, or the next or the next. Ochako surmised it was the constant rain. It poured endlessly from the heavens like they were weeping, saturating the earth. Puddles bloomed on the ground and grew larger every day, and they melded into each other to create a latticework of water channels and small ponds. The water streamed down the slope of the hill to pool in the lower lands, and soon the path flooded over completely. Isolated atop her lonely knoll with the plum tree, Ochako recalled Katsuki’s hands blazing trails across her body, and the clouds of their breath misting in the cooling night, and the way they sang each other’s names to the skies.

The rain continued for several weeks, and then it stopped. The sun finally breached the barrier of the gray clouds to shower the earth in its spearing rays. Slowly, the voluminous water soaked into the ground. Curious to how the humans fared, Ochako ventured down to the village-

and was greeted with nothing short of a tragedy.

The swelling of the river had ravaged the small settlement. It still exceeded its banks, pouring over the porches of the low-lying houses. Furniture and trinkets and clothes that had once carried sentiment floated in the current, occasionally catching on the spindly fingers of broken branches and even wholly uprooted trees. The wooden walkways were now roads for the river trout, and the townsfolk meandered between the flood buildings in their boats. A few of the vessels had not been so lucky. They were either sunk into the depths of the river or had crashed into the houses. The air was rank with depression and anxiety. The fireworks workshop had collapsed, with the roof sticking up out of the water at an odd angle and the cloth door floating on the surface. Ochako couldn’t find the little accessory stall at all.

Ochako fled back up the hill, unable to bear the sadness any longer. She collapsed at the base of her tree and wept. Clasping her hands together so hard that her knuckles glared white, she prayed, and prayed, and prayed. She prayed for Momo and her fisherman husband, for Kyoka and Mina, for the grumpy fireworks shop owner and Eijirou and the friendly accessory shop owner- and for Katsuki, she prayed aloud until her throat was raw and she was coughing up blood. Yet she kept praying, until finally, darkness took her, and she melted into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, he was sitting up against the plum tree with her head in his lap. She would have jumped up and hugged him if his expression had not been so miserable. His fingers slowly teased through her locks of chestnut hair. He had been doing so a while, as evidenced by the channels parting the swathes of her locks. Frowning, she raised a hand to brush her fingertips over his chin.

“Katsuki, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer her immediately. When he did, he cast his vermilion eyes into the distance, as if he could not bear to look at her. Finally, he whispered, “You’re going to die, Ochako.”

She sat up, her frown deepening. Katsuki clicked his tongue at her expression of confusion and looked down at his lap.

“What? I don’t understand.”

“The locals say the flood was the wrath of the river god. Apparently, they think that revering the plum tree has angered him, and he flooded the town in vengeance. They-” he choked on his words. He pushed his fist into his mouth as tears blossomed in his eyes. “They’re going to cut the plum tree down.” Ochako paled as frightening realization dawned upon her. Ochako was born of the plum tree and its associated prayers. If they removed the plum tree and ceased to pray, Ochako would disappear. Terrified, she jumped forward to cling to Katsuki, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Katsuki, I don’t want to die!” she wailed in dismay. Her heart hammered in her throat, and a tremor gripped her body. Katsuki threw his arms around her in a smothering embrace, burying his face into her hair as he hiccupped with a broken sob. She snuggled into him, surrounding herself in his warmth and gunpowder scent, as if it could shield her from her coming death. It could not, however; she could hear the mob approaching already, shouts and curses floating on the early morning air.

“I won’t let them,” he snarled and hugged her tighter. Ochako whimpered, but as much as she would admire him for defending her honor, she could not allow it.

“No, Katsuki! If you interfere, they’ll murder you,” she insisted, prying herself away from him. She sucked in a deep breath and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, slowly bringing herself down from the fearful mania. He stared at her incredulously.

“Ochako, if we do nothing, they’ll murder you!”

The shouts and curses grew louder. Birds took to the air, startled by the aggressive ascent of the river folk. Time was running out.

“I have an idea,” Ochako said and hopped to her feet. She clambered into the boughs of her plum tree to pluck the last remaining fruit of the season from its branches. Falling back to the flats of her feet, she tore away the golden flesh to reveal the pit within. She thrust it out to Katsuki, and he took it with startled hands. “This seed contains the essence of my birth tree,” she told him firmly. “Take it far from here and plant it. As long as my tree can bloom once more, and you continue to believe in me, I shall not cease to exist.” She smiled painfully as his expression contorted in pain. His quivering hand brushed over her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.

“Ochako, no,” he begged. Her heart shattered as his voice cracked with agony. The tears flowed down her cheeks like the accursed rain, burning as it trailed over her skin. “I can’t watch them do this.”

“You must, and you will,” she told him gently. She grabbed his hand and turned her head to press a long kiss into his calloused palm. “I will see you again,” she vowed, looking at him with heated brown eyes. He choked out another sob again, then grabbed her wrist to yank her forward. Her body fell upon his, and their lips crashed together in a tumultuous, passionate, heartbroken kiss. Katsuki kissed her right up until the moment the mob stormed into the clearing before she vanished before his eyes. The angry mob shoved him to the side despite his fragmented pleas, and he crashed to the ground. He watched, wide-eyed and clutching the little seed pod to his chest, as they swung the axe into the skinny trunk of the plum tree. It only took the one swing to bore deep into the heart of its wood, and with a noise not unlike an agonized scream, the tree fell backward and crashed into the earth. The leaves quivered with dying breaths, and sap poured like blood from the wound.

The rain began to pour though not a cloud was in the sky. It was as if the world was lamenting the loss of its purest soul.

The Coming of the Legend

Katsuki Bakugo sailed away from the riverside town that very afternoon. He bought a little clay pot and took some soil from the hill to plant the plum tree seed, and he waited. The boat meandered along the river to destination after destination, festival after festival, but the seed did not take root. Yet he waited, optimistic that his love would return. He slept with the little pot of dirt tucked against his chest, and sometimes, he imagined it was Ochako’s heartbeat and not his own pulsing through the clay and earth. Three months went by, but nothing ever sprouted from the seed. Hope was all he had, and he clung to it like a lifeline. His boss once ridiculed him for obsessing over the empty pot and had attempted to toss it into the river, and Katsuki broke the man’s nose and an arm struggling to get it back.

The old fogey finally fired him for that stunt.

Katsuki returned home to his lofty home on the outskirts of Edo. His mother had made her fortune designing kimonos. Even the waiting ladies to the wealthiest samurai wore her designs, or so it was said. Ginkgo trees and cherry blossoms and pines towered above the ornate building, but their sprawling garden did not possess a plum tree. Katsuki found a patch of earth about the size of the hilltop and planted the seed, which had not rotted even after three months in the small pot of soil. He took up a profession cooking and made more money than he ever had crafting fireworks. Every night when he returned home, arms aching and smelling of various spices and meats, he would go to the garden and look for a sprout.

He’d kneel at the spot and pray until his throat bled raw, and blisters burst on his clasped hands, and he would water the earth with his tears.

The servants began to whisper that he had gone mad over the drowning of his lover in the riverside town. His mother and father looked on in concern but allowed Katsuki his grieving. Katsuki had always been a hothead, but his temper shortened a drastic amount; he would scrap with strangers in the streets if they so much as looked at him the wrong way. He punched holes in the walls and kicked over furniture at the slightest provocation. He’d grab his clothes and tear them to shreds, simply because his world was falling apart around him, and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

His muscles wasted, for he had not the care to tend them. Weight sloughed from his frame, as food or drink tasted like ash in his mouth. His body took to a persistent cold, but no doctor could mend him, for his illness was of the heart. The whole world seemed dark, for his sun had been cruelly snuffed out of existence.  

Six months to the day after the felling of the plum tree, he fell to his knees before the buried plum tree seed and beseeched the glittering night sky. He screamed, and he roared, and he yelled, and he cried, begging the gods to take mercy on a virtuous plum tree spirit who graced the world with love and light. The servants looked on in awed horror as he begged the heavens for recompense until dawn began to peek over the horizon, and then darkness took him.

When he awoke, it was beneath the shade of a fully-grown plum tree. His head was cushioned by something soft and plush, and someone was stroking his ash-blond hair with loving fingers. His vision gradually cleared to reveal a smiling brunette, with round cheeks and a blissful smile and eyes like the earth.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Katsuki.”

As generations came and went, the landscape of Japan changed, and so did the illustrious manor of the Bakugo family- yet the plum tree remained, a monument to an era long lost. The household had been torn down and rebuilt many times over, remodeled by inheritors of the family’s fortune.

Yet, they never touched the plum tree. That’s because everyone knew the legend of the Lovers’ Plum- the saga of a love so powerful that no force on this earth could break it. Rumor says that the plum tree spirit still inhabits the tree and grants wishes of romance to those who reach her ears, and that on nights where fireworks fill the sky, one can see her and her human beloved seated beneath its boughs, holding hands and staring into one another’s eyes. 

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[nessie-rp]

WERECREATURE.

Werecreatures roam almost every continent, with legends of manbeasts stretching across cultures since time immemorial. This class of being shares one common trait: the ability to magically transform from human to therian predator. There are five known types of therianthropes, each with distinct origins and sets of traits. No connection to shapeshifters has yet been discovered, though they consider themselves kindred species in the unchanging city. The most common werecreatures in Lyonesse are nahuales and werewolves, each respectively claiming territory in New Aztlán and Old Town Row.

There are five types of werecreatures: NAHUALES/WEREPANTHERS, WEREWOLVES, WEREBEARS, WERETIGERS, and WEREHYENAS.

HISTORY.

The first of these beings were born from humanity's first brushes with magic, when humankind had just started to form civilizations thousands of years ago. Their histories are human histories, for the most part, given that to live as a werecreature is to walk two paths at once: person and beast. Of the five forms, we know that at least two — the wolves and the hyenas — originated from curses from outside influences (or, in the case of the hyenas, self-imposed), but the origins of the other three are largely attributed to witches with unique bonds to transformative magics that drifted apart from witch ways to forge their own.

IN LYONESSE.

Each kind of werecreature comes from a different walk of life and oftentimes an entirely different part of the world. The wolves were the first through the gates, but the nahuales and tigers followed soon after. It wasn't until the 19th century that any bears or hyenas were documented in the city.

The nahuales' connection to magic was what brought the first group of them to Lyonesse, hailing from Central America but intrigued by the possibilities of dimensional travel that the gates presented. It wasn't long before the mage leader of that group became interested in a more permanent presence in the city in the early 14th century, leaving a few trusted members of his family — the ones who would later stake their claim on New Aztlán — to learn more about the supernatural beings they had never previously interacted with.

The wolves did not initially demand a council seat when they began to immigrate to the city, chased out of their villages by angry humans — no, instead a pack tried to start a new settlement on the far side of the Morroi forest without notifying the council. The colony was disbanded by the council after many negotiations with the leadership of the pack, though there is reason to believe threats were levied against the wolves because of the dangers of exploring and occupying land so far from the safety of the gates. It was at this point that the wolves gained a seat on the council.

The tigers, hyenas, and bears do not have a strong enough presence in the city as of yet to have much interest in political power. They mainly keep to themselves.

FACTS.

SHARED ABILITIES.

PHYSICALITY.

All werecreatures possess enhanced senses and superhuman strength and speed, even in their human forms. Many individual werecreatures can go toe-to-toe with other powerful species, such as the fae or the vampire, depending on their control of their abilities. A lone opponent rarely has a chance against more than one werecreature.

SHAPESHIFTING.

Beings of dual natures, werecreatures have a human form and a beast form. Their ability to transform themselves between the two comes with certain conditions, depending on the specifics of their lineage (see individual lore sections for more details), but one constant remains: the transformation of man to beast and back again. Some can partially shift, gaining more noticeable predatory traits (i.e. fangs, claws, glowing eyes, colorations and hair patterns). An intentional partial shift is not an easy feat, and usually only experienced werecreatures or those of significant power can accomplish and maintain such a thing. Younger and less trained weres may partially shift in response to traumas, unexpected stimuli, or overwhelming emotions.

HEALING.

All werecreatures have a greater control over their physical systems which allows them to magically change forms, but this also extends to controlling other body processes — most notably, healing. Though their healing abilities are not as strong as dragons or vampires, many can concentrate their energy into rapid healing from severe injuries. This can give them the time they need to seek medical attention or bring them back from the brink of death, but will run out of steam depending on therity of the injury. It's an imperfect process.

INTERSPECIES RELATIONS.

Werecreatures have a natural affinity for other shapeshifters, though this notably does not extend to the trickster fae who tend to shapeshift into other humanoid forms. Though they are not naturally opposed to vampires, vampires have a mistrust of them that has exacerbated tensions between the species at different points in history.

In general, the more reclusive or solitary weres are wary of other beings, even in the city. That being said, weretigers have had certain... misunderstandings with yōkai in the past, as have werebears with the nahual shifters of the Americas.

MYTHS.

These things do not apply:

All werecreatures are forced to shift on the night of the full moon. That's a werewolf thing. Short end of the stick, huh?

The bites of werecreatures are toxic to vampires. Nah, but they'll still hurt and cause significant damage.

They're the natural predators of vampires. Someone really should be, but werecreatures may or may not have significant beef with their local covens.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS.

CAN A WERECREATURE GET DRUNK/HIGH?

Alcohol and drugs must be consumed in large quantities to affect a werecreature because of their heightened metabolism. Their effects also burn off much faster than they do in humans. Magical substances can affect werecreatures much more easily than normal substances, but they still have a stronger tolerance to their effects than humans do.

NAHUALES & WEREPANTHERS.

FACTS.

Nahuales are a mortal species with an extended lifespan (~250-300 years) with a deep connection to ancestral magics, including those of transformation and mediumship. They are classed as werecreatures for their ability to shapeshift from man to jaguar. They cannot be differentiated from non-magical jaguars when transformed. Their power comes from a spiritual connection to the worlds around and beyond them, a severed tie in magical practice between the nahual and the witch.

Only those born with a certain daysign, according to the tōnalpōhualli, are born nahual. According to nahual spiritual belief, the daysign acts with a person's tonalli — one third of a mortal's "soul" — to determine their characteristics and destiny. Because of this, being born to a nahual does not guarantee that the child will inherit the gift, as it always depends on daysign — and astrology is sacred to these beings to such a degree that natural mating cycles have evolved to favor the births of those with nahual signs. A mortal may be born without the ability to transform but still be destined to become a nahual; they must be bitten. Those who are bitten and not meant for the gift will die.

NOTE: Because of this species' mythos and significance in modern spiritual practice and cultural studies, nahuales must be portrayed by face claims with some indigenous roots in Mesoamerica.

ABILITIES.

NEPANTLA.

Sensitive to the comings and goings of magic, nahuales have the power not only to sense places of power but to traverse liminal spaces. The nepantla is a place neither here nor there — neither shadow nor shining. Chaos is in constant lurch around all living things, but it can get caught here and there, folded over itself, confused. It is these spaces — dimensional portals, djinn entrapments, ruptures in time, the cosmic branches of all world trees, those worlds which are not for mortal eye to behold — which can be accessed with easy by the nahual, drawn to their energy but unaffected by their capricious magical natures. Some say this makes nahuales the lightest of all creatures on their feet, hardest to detect when they are unwilling to be found. Others consider this a mark of just how dangerous they can be, a reason to stay away for fear of being drawn into the twilight neitherworld.

MEDIUMSHIP.

It is said that a nahual never dies. Linked together through time and past death, nahuales can communicate with their ancestors. This mental link develops over time, and will be stronger in some than others. They are extremely vulnerable when reaching out with their tonalli to the dead, and they can only communicate with other nahuales in this manner lest they risk their own lives.

SHAPESHIFTING.

Unburdened by the curse of the wolves or hyenas, nahuales are free to shift when they please, though they may be compelled to transform by offensive magic or intense emotional responses. Their extra connections to magic make them the fastest werecreatures in shifting from one form to the next.

WEAKNESSES.

MORTALITY.

Nahuales are susceptible to human disease and fatal injury, though their longevity is in part bolstered by their healing abilities. Excessive trauma and prolonged illness can still kill them, as can magical attacks.

TZITZIMITL.

Named for bonemonsters of the stars from Aztec myth but known by many names, the tzitzimitl manifests first as trouble with vision before worsening into blindness. It is caused by long stays in the nepantla. Time passes differently there with every voyage, so the risk of overstaying is one that cannot be understated. After the onset of the blindness, the nahual will begin to lose other senses until they become trapped and convinced that they are being burned alive. The worst time to travel the nepantla is during a solar eclipse, as it is almost certain that a nahual will suffer the tzitzimitl immediately upon their return. Cures for this illness are yet unknown.

WEREPANTHERS.

Werepanthers (also called werepumas or werecougars, as their form more closely resembles a cougar than a jaguar) are descended from nahuales but have a more tenuous connection to their ancestral magics due to colonization and the eradication of native cultures in the Americas. As such, they resemble other werecreatures who have lost all of their magical abilities save the power of transformation.

ORGANIZATION & SOCIETY.

Nahuales strongly prefer to live among humans and tend to be very open about their true natures with other beings, in contrast to many other species that prefer to keep their existence secret. Because of this, and the rarity of new nahuales, they do not have a rigid social structure outside of those imposed by humans, such as nuclear or extended families that live in the same home and small social circles. They often occupy places of importance in their communities and make excellent leaders. In Lyonesse, they have integrated themselves with all kinds of supernatural structures.

Notable astronomical events bring nahuales together for festivities or simple communal observance, as these are moments when the spirits of the ancestors are the most active — the dead may compel the nahuales they have communicated with to seek out their still-living loved ones, which leads to larger gatherings.

WEREWOLVES.

FACTS.

Werewolves are a mortal species with an extended lifespan who have the ability to shapeshift from man to wolf. Essentially, their first shift begins to slow down to their aging, allowing them to live up to 150 years of age. Once a werewolf reaches 100, they begin to age more quickly and feel less of a need to shift to their wolf form. Most werewolves that pass away of natural causes have stopped shifting completely for at least 15 years or more.

With regard to their origins, werewolves are a species that are either born or turned. No cursed wolves have been created since at least 1879. Born werewolves experience their first shift around puberty, usually between the ages of 13 and 16. Despite being born a werewolf, those that are born still experience the sickness that comes with the days leading up to their first shift. Born werewolves are more naturally inclined to have better control than turned werewolves.

Werewolves are easily distinguishable from normal wolves, being much bigger than any normal wolf. Their fur can be any natural wolf coat colors, regardless of their human form's coloration.

ABILITIES.

SHAPESHIFTING.

The full shift can be enacted at will, except on the full moon. It’s usually a quick but uncomfortable or even painful process. Alphas are usually the fastest at their shifts, but it isn't entirely unheard of for lower ranked wolves to be able to shift from man to wolf in the blink of an eye. Significant injuries will make the shift more dangerous and painful. Transformations that are forced (i.e. the full moon, alpha command, or magic-induced) are extremely painful to the individual, but intentional shifts can eventually become less painful. Many wolves choose to shift well before the full moon to avoid a forced shift.

WEAKNESSES.

THE FULL MOON.

The full moon is a shackle that werewolves can never escape, forcing their kind to transform for the duration of every full moon for the rest of their lives. During the night of the full moon, the majority of werewolves (including all but the most powerful alphas and betas) are more beast than man, increasing the risk they pose to creatures of all species. On the days leading up to the full moon, werewolves are often restless and irritable.

SILVER & WOLFSBANE.

Both substances can be fatal to a werewolf if ingested/injected or through prolonged exposure. Wolfsbane can induce vomiting, dizziness, general weakness (shifting becomes near impossible), and in some rare cases, drive a werewolf mad. Silver burns on contact and is most commonly used in restraints. Older werewolves are more likely to develop some resistance to wolfsbane and silver.

MORTALITY.

Werewolves can survive most injuries that would kill a human, thanks to their healing ability, but would not survive the most traumatic, such as fatal damage to the heart, decapitation, explosion, etc.

LOSS OF A MATE.

The unexpected death of a mate can drive a wolf so deep into despair that they become gravely ill.

MAGIC.

Werewolves are very susceptible to magic, especially magic that ties to the moon and rituals that are completed during the night of the full moon.

THE TURN.

To become a werewolf, one must be bitten during the week of the full moon. The higher the attacking wolf is in the pack hierarchy, the better the chance the individual has of surviving the transformation. This transformation happens on the next full moon, but the victim will endure a long and strange illness for the entire month between. Those bitten have a high chance of the transformation killing them or driving them insane.

ORGANIZATION & SOCIETY.

Werewolves congregate in pack structures like their natural kin. Packs are often full of related wolves, depending on their history and the amount of territory they occupy. However, regardless of blood relation — pack is, in most situations, family.

ALPHAS.

Packs are led by an alpha pair. Alphas can be of any gender, as the position is determined by power and ability rather than by any specific biological factors. Magic, stemming from the original curse, is what gives the alpha ranking its authority. Female alphas are highly revered in werewolf culture. Alphas are identifiable by the bright, illuminating glow of their eyes when partially or fully transformed; it is also easy to identify an alpha amongst other wolves of their pack due to the social deference they command.

When it comes to succession to alpha status, such a title is usually bestowed based upon respect rather than strictly inherited. Should an alpha die before naming a successor, the alpha rank is conferred to the next strongest wolf in the pack, usually one of the betas. Pack elders are often involved in this decision should the previous alpha face an untimely demise.

BETAS.

Known as the seconds in command to the alpha, betas are responsible for helping enforce the alpha’s rules. They can be any gender. Their main concerns are pack security and safety as well as ensuring the alpha's orders are followed.

None of the betas have power over another, though many will defer to older and wiser members of the pack.

PACK ELDERS.

Elders have been with their packs for a very long time, guiding and caring for the younger generations. Soemtimes they're parents or adoptive family of the core pack members (alphas and betas) — other times there's no specific familial tie; either way, they're always gramps or auntie or baba. Respect for the elders is expected, though they may not have any official position of authority and they may not even still be turning members of the pack. The respect they are owed doesn't come from social pressures so much as it comes from the roles they typically fill in the pack as connections to pack ancestors and caretakers of the young.

LONE WOLVES & ROGUE WOLVES.

Lone wolves are rare, and do not thrive outside of pack life.

Rogue wolves are outcasts, labeled as such for an infraction among their pack and/or the werewolf community (putting others in danger, disobeying their alpha, intentionally biting humans to change them, etc.). Wolves may also be described as rogue if they have gone mad from wolfsbane exposure or from forced transforming. These wolves, reduced to predator instincts and mad with rage, are sentenced to death in Lyonesse. A local alpha, pack elder, or in extreme cases, the council all have the authority to carry out the sentence.

MATES.

Wolves take partnerships very seriously, as any mated pair may eventually break off from a pack to build their own. The mating bond is equivalent to marriage within a pack; in fact, in Lyonesse mating carries the same legal connotations and recognition as marriage as of the 1925 Ritual Partnership Act.

There are various courtship practices and ceremonies observed in wolf packs — some more similar to mortal courtships in that they involve sharing gifts, declarations of intention, and spending time alone together, and others more in common with wolves, such as grooming and territorial displays.

[mujeebblogs]

post COVID  world

Post COVID world: an imagination

In today’s scenario when the whole world is passing through a state of horror,tension,uncertainty and a fear of the unexpected.. CORONA, COVID19, novel corona virus have become household words since last few days. Definitely, it’s the most devastating pandemic humans have ever seen, it has brought the whole world on the back foot, the entire world locked down, people shut in their houses, fear all over everywhere. But somewhere in our hearts we have a hope that we will overcome this too as we have come out of all previous catastrophes. But as per the law of nature every upheaval has got an aftermath so the post COVID 19 will also have. Can you imagine how the post COVID world would be like? Believe me its going be a very different world altogether.

My blog is to bring smiles on your faces in these tough times.

How the world is going to look like with people in masks, gloves and face shields, may be body suits, maintaining social distance and not able to do all those things which they were freely doing before COVID.

I am sharing my imagination here

People, specially Indian people are going to miss their pleasure of sneezing, picking their nose or even coughing because now onward  all these gestures will turn heads.

Sneezing before covid was considered a pleasurable activity which everyone used to enjoy I distinctly remember seeing my grandfather and people of that age using “NASWAR”( it is a moist, powdered tobacco usually sniffed) to make them sneeze.

When we look into the process of sneezing it appears to be no less than a rocket science. Sneezing in itself is a whole process right from getting into the mood which involves making of funny faces to taking a stance, than a little bending behind with head tilted back and then the final act of explosion , definitely it is like launching a rocket into space and the best of all is the contentment on the face of who sneezes, he looks content, relieved and as if he has achieved something in his life. Similarly picking one’s nose was also a pastime and for some people it was a gesture associated with intense thinking, the deeper the thinking- faster the finger use to dig into deep corners of their noses, and during this intense intellectual process their face becomes so flexible that at times their mouth seems to reach almost to their ears.

Another gesture is coughing which has been a very strong and interesting verbal communication sign since times immemorial. which was further made famous by Maduhri dixit and Salman khan in the film HUM APKE HAIN KAUN ,that famous “AHO -AHU” which became a symbol for communicating amongst love birds will now be seen with a raised eyebrows ,disapproval and contempt.. even fear .

Sneezing, coughing in public will be a more heinous crime than farting. I guess farting is going to be treated a respectable gesture now.

Mask definitely is a protective gear against the virus but it s going to change the scenario altogether ,after Covid it may be beneficial for many whereas disheartening for some, lets look at this:-

Firstly for the people who have borrowed money can now roam in the city without the fear of being caught by their lenders.

Love birds who use to cover their faces earlier for the fear of getting caught but were always spotted because they use to look very odd in the crowd and it use to become very obvious now they can do it officially.

Robbers and chain snatchers are going to have gala time as they will no more be scared of being suspects.

Eve teasing will be on next level now, as the girls will never be able to figure out who whistled at them or who passed a comment on them.

For girls Its going to save lots of money ,they now can get their upper lip done at their own convenience of budget and time etc as now they have a facility of easily hiding it under a designer or a flowery mask .

Some rituals are also going to be changed, in weddings the “MUH DIKHAI ceremony will now onwards will be a “MASK HATAO” ceremony and for that matter masks are going get designer now with diamonds or may be gold embroidery.

India is going to be cleaner now because all those people who used to spit here and there will end up spitting in their masks as getting use to the mask is going to take time and by the time they will forget this habit of spitting.

The toothpaste and tooth whitening companies are going to suffer a big loss as people will care a damn for white teeth and their bad breath.

Anti tan cream companies will see their sales figure shoot up as people will be using to get rid of their mask marks on their face.

Corporate will be very happy to have another reason for cost cutting . Now they can do away with their pantry and housekeeping staff because when they find that after lock down their staff is very well equipped with all these skills. we might see a rooster in offices for assigning these works on rotation basis to the employees. The support staff might see a fear of losing their jobs. similarly the house maids will also have a tough time, they might lose their jobs or will have to raise their performances levels as their performances will always be compared with their lock-down replacement their own “ sahabs”.

Lastly the HINDI language word “karona”, means asking ‘to do’ like “eis matter mey kuch karona”will be out of fashoin as people will be alarmed to hear karona and hear it as CORONA. instead people will start using “kariye”

Any ways as the saying goes “Change is the Essence of life” so lets prepare ourselves for this change. In the meantime stay at home and stay safe.

keep visiting my blog

waiting for your comment and likes

bye for now

[worksofjpa]

Lost Parcel

Original story by Jessica Paola L. Arrogante

 “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Ninoy Aquino International Airport. Local time is 5:45 in the evening. For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the Captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign. 

On behalf of EgyptAir Nile Airline and the entire crew, I’d like to thank you for joining us on this trip and we are looking forward to seeing you onboard soon. Have a nice evening!”

 City lights, traffic jams, the familiar breeze of the warm air invading my whole system as the adjustment of the environment is settling in, oh the smell of Manila just reminds me of all the possible unfavorable circumstances I have experienced. The dreadful case from my former school was the last worst case I could recall and it's traumatizing.

 "Where should we go, ma'am?" that question from the uber driver snaps me to reality.

I have not told my siblings about my arrival since this won't take long and I have to go back to Cairo to accomplish my unfinished business.

"To the nearest hotel please", exhaustion was evident on my voice brought by a 12-hour trip from Egypt, jetlag they may say but it is an understatement, my mind has been corrupted these past few days and the only thing that could bear away this drained and drowsy I am feeling is to know the reason why I was sent here.

 *buzz* *buzz* *buzz*

A text from Anne triggered the sleeping sirens within me, a piece of information about the case of my colleague, Patrick. Tomorrow morning would be the start of the investigation.

 *ring* *ring*

"V., finally, I'm going home!" Patrick squealed in between sobs, I know he's been longing to go back home but I sense something off.

"Finally, when are you coming back" I added sarcasm and a bit giggle as I delivered that line. But I received nothing.

"Pat? Still there?" the line went shaky and then dropped off. After that suspicious call, I haven't heard a word from Patrick.

 "V., you are the last person I know who can carry this thing out, you should get something out of your system, you've been stuck here for years trying to evade the reality by publishing your out-of-this-world stories and fantasizing them, get your act together, V.".

 Of all people, why should it have to be me? To set foot in Santo Tomas? I can't even contain the ambiance of this ill-fated town, but here I am. 

 I lit up my cigar to lessen the indignation I feel observing the place I grew up with but something or should I say, someone is looking and I can feel he is coming in my direction.

"Hey, what's that thing in your head? It's freaking me out", with an innocent look from about seven-year-old typical stray kid wearing soiled sleeveless undershirt you could see in street roaming around looking for someplace to hang out with.

"A what?" with confusion in my tone I nudged obfuscated to what he was saying and when I felt nothing and was about to utter a word showing annoyance since I never had the experience dealing with children almost half of my life but the kid was gone.

I looked all over the place, into the plaza, into the market but the kid is nowhere to be seen, okay that's my last straw.

I don't know where I'm heading at but I just let my feet wander, and I ended up here, the place where my childhood memories built, the memories I did not intend to recall but it feels like they have their own ways of doing so, they are the like the waves in the ocean eagerly want to get in the shore.

 "You know what, this oak tree was planted by a farmer. He passed away while waiting for this to grow up, as much as he was waiting for his first love to come back until he took his own life, he hung himself here and they believe that this place is hunted." I saw the horror on his face as he weaved his god-awful story, like who would believe such a rib-tickling tale, but I didn't want to spoil his story so I joined the ride.

 "Why did he do that, why kill yourself over a petty thing--" but as I uttered those words a cold wind caress my left cheek from I-don't-know-where-it-come-from, and I heard small voices but not that clear.

"Phil, what were you saying? Make it louder, and why are you up there, get down here, it's dangerous you might get fall", it feels odd that Phil's voice was not that hoarse as far as I can remember, I’ve known Phil since time immemorial, he is my best buddy and I know every inch of him so it feels odd.

It's passed six and papa always reminds us to be home for various lost evil spirits are wandering around, and I can see him on my peripheral vision.

 "Valentine! Come home!" there he goes again but the surrounding transformed into a different scenery, the wind was so strong that you could hear the river whistling, just a moment ago the atmosphere was fine. I can't see my father either. So, I ran as fast as I could, that I felt someone or some people, was the best description, were following me. 

Soldiers? A bunch of armies? Army tanks? What in the world is happening?! I cannot distinguish what nationalities they were but based on their actions they appeared to declare war. A war that I only see in books and movies. 

I can't find my father, for Pete's sake, can someone explain to me what the hell is happening?! I can't absorb the situation I am in.

It was as if everything went into slow motion. The rage of the soldiers was obvious on their faces, their hunger for freedom that led them to rebellion. Behind the soldiers were the katipuneros with their swords like what my teachers lectured us on our class, but isn't it contradicting? It was written in history that even Filipino soldiers were on the side of the colonizers, they were left with no choice but to obey and carry out what was ordered them to do even if it costs their lives or fight against their fellow countrymen.

"These were not written on history. The events you are witnessing are the real events that happened during the colonization period. Filipino soldiers tried their hardest and their might to fight against these greedy invaders" I could hardly digest this huge revelation, I even forgot that my father was waiting on the end of the river as I was reminded not to dawdle for you never know what will happen during your stay in this hunted place. But the hoarse voices I heard were not a hallucination.

A lot of questions kept popping on my mind; 'what is happening', 'where am I', 

"Who are you" were the only words that came out of my mouth.

It took him a while before he responds, "A farmer who wanted freedom but failed to obtain due to despair and cowardice. I was one of them, I got tired fighting and conceded." He was a hero, but what happened?

"I was never a hero. If I tell you what happened before my death you would not like it, I do not want to rain on someone's parade. Ask your father, he was at the end of the battlefield, and if you want to know what happened during the war, the ball is on your court. And I want you to change what was written on the history, remember kid, a little learning is a dangerous thing." 

 "Valentine!" a clamor caught my attention.

"Valentine!" I looked over, the voice was familiar, and it was papa, in haste, catching his breath. 

"Valentine, you must get out of here!" I cannot breathe, what I am seeing is too heavy to absorb and the sound of the tanks, screams of the fighters are unbearable that my heart cannot take it, and everything went black.

 "Hey, are you alright?" I still feel dizzy like a bomb just exploded leaving debris I can't discern, I don't know what I should pick first.

"It was nice seeing you here, Valentine. This time I know you can make this through, rewrite the history" the kid behaved strangely, don't tell me---

"Yes, it's me, Valentine. How have you been? Patrick has been waiting on you on the riverbank."

"Patrick? He's dead! Who the hell are you?!" I burst into tears because I don't know what is happening, I felt lost and betrayed. 

 Papa died after the incident, he died due to cardiac arrest the doctor concluded, but I can clearly remember how this old man took the life of my father, he took his life in exchange of my freedom. And after the traumatic events, we decided to move out of this town and started a new life in Manila trying to remove the memories I had on this cursed town. I didn't know I would come back here and it felt like the memories returned as if it was just yesterday, but I will not give in whatever happens. 

 "V., if whatever happens, never go to the oak tree, the hunted oak tree, and the mysterious river, it's an illusion. Fight for your life at all costs, even if I'm not with you anymore. If someone offers you to do something strange, please decline it, even if they give you proofs that are uncanny, those things are insane, runaway and never come back, please V.," the serious tone of his voice sent shiver down to my spine, my father always pops in my dreams even if it's been years since he passed away but the fate took turns and I made it here.

 "V.! Why are you here?!" I can hear Patrick's voice but my mind is too preoccupied thinking of ways how to get out of here, but he grabbed my arm and made me look into his eyes as he narrates things that could fill in the missing puzzles I longed for years.

"V., you should not be here, I was fooled by the old man, V., when my family moved here in Santo Tomas, I had the same experience as what you had, my father was also taken by evil spirits, lunatic katipuneros who went crazy due to oppression of the colonizers, they were depressed because they lost their loved ones while fighting, so they want other people to fight for them, even it's been years and years they cannot accept the fact that they lost. I went back here because they kept asking on my dreams to rewrite the history, that the Philippines won, if not, they will take my family's life and even yours. V., we've sacrificed our lives please do not let this be thrown. Get your shit out of here, leave, now!" the echo of Patrick's voice was the last thing I heard before my feet led the way out of the area even if I heard the old man's voice pleading.

 After what happened, no one ever steps on that place again. I went back to Cairo, together with my family. Patrick once visited me on my dreams, he said I did the right thing, he was beyond happy because I was able to face the fear I clinched for so many years. 

Peace sometimes would cost an arm and a leg, you have to earn to get it even if it takes your whole being. Being courageous enough to handle your fears is one step ahead in achieving peace, you cannot truly find yourself if you keep hiding in a box full of false memories and the idea of evading them would not satisfy the longing you have to things you once had. I had an excellent life but I was afraid to have it back so I shifted my path, I chose the road where many people traveled by. The negativity has corrupted my mind, but as soon as I was awakened I figured it out that optimism is the foundation in pursuit of a better version of yourself. And all those experiences, made me realized that the more you fear, the more it gets real. And King Melchizedek was right, he said: "When you want something, the world conspires in helping you to achieve it."

[greathuntingtipshp-blog]

Advantages Of Hunting Apps

 Hunting has been part of our existence since time immemorial.  Hunting is not as common today as it was years ago.  Many people today hunt as more of a hobby than a food necessity.  Hunting is beneficial for many reasons. Some people hunt to supplement their meals since game meat is one of the healthiest foods in the world.  Some people hunt to control the wildlife population in their areas. Animals such as deers can cause a lot of damage if allowed to roam free. Some wild animals are very dangerous and can kill, which is why there is a need for hunting should they cross boundaries they are not allowed to cross. Hunting is also a great way for one to keep fit.

 Hunting requires one to hike to wooded areas and run after prey, which is a good form of exercise. You also get to learn a lot of things about nature when you are out hunting.  Hunting is a great way to experience and appreciate nature because you discover trails and beauty no camera can capture.  Hunting, however, is not an easy activity.  You have to do a lot of planning and be cautious for your hunting expedition to be successful. Hunters today are using hunting apps because they have made things easier.  This article will look at some of the reasons why getting a hunting app is important.

 If you want to start hunting, you need a hunting app at https://www.kleanoutdoors.com/ because it will let you know what the weather conditions are like. A hunting app will let you know if there are storms coming before you embark on your expedition because being stuck in the woods during a storm is very risky. A storm will give you poor vision, making it difficult for you to see any approaching wild animals, thereby putting your life in danger. There are wild animals that migrate due to changes in weather conditions, and you would be able to track their movements with ease if you knew what weather forecasts were at all times.

 Secondly, hunting apps provide you with maps so you can easily navigate your chosen area.  It is difficult for on to get lost if they have a map.  App maps use GPS, and they can, therefore, guide you better than physical maps since they will show which paths to take from where you are standing.  A phone is also easier to carry than a physical map.  If you are separated from your hunting team, you can find each other with ease because most hunting apps allow teams to communicate with each other. Learn more about hunting at https://www.britannica.com/sports/hunting-sport.

 Most hunting apps at https://www.kleanoutdoors.com/ also have logging features, allowing you to record your hunting experiences.  Some animals are very predictable, and as such, you can key in your experiences with them to track their movements.

 Avoid apps that are complicated because they will not only waste your time but also endanger your life since they will take up all your concentration.

[probablyrpgmechanicsideas]

The Lost God’s Reprisal

Even if your game/game system doesn’t offer a pantheon to work with or you just don’t use it, many campaigns will include some basis of religion. But the deities in these stories are usually pretty “present” within their worlds: they’ve been followed since seemingly time immemorial, they were responsible for the campaign’s world’s creation, and - even if they don’t exist on the world themselves - their presence and power are still seen in the lands.

So, for a quick turn of events, try to imagine what the world would be like if it were religiously more like our own: different religions/gods believed in, but the gods haven’t been heard from for centuries. The people find animosity between each other, blaming the non-believers for the abandonment of their deities. The less religious individuals argue over which - if any or all - of the deities actually exist and created their world.

Some ideas for the adventure branching off of this “godless land”:

If the party includes 1+ religious classes (cleric, paladin, etc.): One of the religious folk among the adventurers receives urgent news from their church: the highest-ranking clergy of their following has requested council with the party. Once they arrive, they learn that darker parts of the world have spawned messages of a “Divine Annihilator:” a god who seeks to destroy the light the old gods made, and any who live within. He serves the predominantly dark and evil, whose very mark has shown to make monsters out of those of darkness or light alike. Including one unfortunate clergyman, who is dragged in by his cage at the high-ranking clergy’s request. Now, the race is on: this Annihilator appears to be a deity, the likes of which this world has never seen. Its powers bring corruption and death to the lands, and its influence is growing among the monsters. The party must hurry and stop its following; lest the Annihilator gather enough power and find themselves upon this mortal coil.

If the party is doubtful of the deities/mostly agnostic: After a routine quest gets the party known in a small village, a village woman approaches the party, urging them to follow her to her home. Inside, she introduces you to her child, and asks they take the child to a safe, far-away place, protecting the child from the world’s churches along the way. Understandably, the party’s initial thoughts will likely be the mother is superstitious. She claimed the child - if discovered - would be victim to the wrath of the gods, and more so their followers. But the gods have been dead for centuries, haven’t they? Those thoughts are dashed as the child shows they possess strange gifts: divine magics far beyond their age or capabilities, eerily accurate predictions of the future, an affinity with communicating with animals, etc. When these gifts are beheld by other citizens, the word spreads, and... more “secretive” members of the churches are noticed tailing the party occasionally. Once the party has gained the child’s trust, they tell the party: the child has been chosen by a newly awakened deity as the founder and first member of the church, and the child’s gifts are direct influence from this unknown deity. The party must take the child to safety, but must ask themselves further questions. Can this power truly be that of a deity? And if so, can this deity be trusted so suddenly? Why are the churches taking this hearsay so seriously, instead of just discrediting it as heresy from a gifted child’s imagination? Could the old gods be real, and have an untold history with this child’s patron? And most of all, should the party members dodge the chance of a god’s fury by committing themselves to this child’s patron deity?

If the world is largely atheistic/agnostic: The world has changed, millennia have passed since the idea of a pantheon has been anything more than mythology. Technology, magic, and mortal cooperation have all advanced beyond the need of seeking a higher power. The world is peaceful, prosperous, and evolutionary. Until word starts spreading of supernatural things: temples falling from the sky, rising from the ground, appearing from a storm of petals or snow, etc.; beings and constructs never before seen wandering these temples, maintaining it, protecting it, and occasionally leaving it for further materials, usually raided from nearby mortal villages. Eventually, tales of giant beings with immense power roaming these temples. It appears the deities of old were true, and have been here the whole time. They have been forgotten, discredited by their world, and have decided to take matters into their all-powerful hands. They’ve descended to retake this world by force and bloodshed. Will the party be able to convince the gods to return, or that further killing their creations will not help their endeavors? Or will they have to band the mortals together, to wage a war of a divine scale?

... Happy gaming~!

[chronicbatfictioner]

A Real Boy - Chapter 9

By breakfast, Bruce was not there. Dick had gone back to the city with Barbara, and Alfred said that Bruce has "some business to attend to in the city, Sir,"

Tim figured that he was just getting the hell out of dodge to prevent the awkward discomfort between he and Tim. But then again, he'd woken up at 9, and was about to let Alfred know that he wouldn't be needing breakfast when Jason walked in with a croissant in his mouth and an announcement that his "holy massive breakfast, Tim!" was ready.

"I wasn't about to be such a hassle, Alfred," he told Alfred. The old butler/daimon scoffed.

"No such thing, Master Tim. You are as much part of the household as Master Dick is." he said. Tim could swear that Alfred's eyes had twinkled when he told Jason, who was about to protest, "and you as much as a part of the household as Zitka, Master Jason. Albeit with less apples and more bacon."

"Glad to know you don't intend to provide only apples for me, Alfred, thank you." Jason declared, grinning charmingly as Alfred placed another plate of bacon and toast in front of Jason. Tim rolled his eyes. Absolutely unimpressed and partially wondering if Jason had been a common human, he would be as obnoxious. Unfortunately, Jason took that exact time to look at Tim and caught his eye-roll. "Hey, if you rich boy didn't get the lesson on how to be courteous, I can teach you some." he quipped.

"Oh, I did get that lesson, alright. I just skipped on the part where you blatantly kissed someone's feet to get more bacon." Tim retorted.

"Bacon is food of the gods, Timothy. If feet-kissing is all that is needed to get them, that I shall do." Jason replied haughtily. "Some had sold their souls for it."

"You've just made that one up," Tim cautiously remarked. Jason's deadpan face was not helping in deciding whether his remark had been a flat-out lie or truth. The only relief was Alfred, slightly smirking behind him.

Or maybe not. Alfred was, after all, an ancient being, too.

Tim wondered if it was a bad idea to bring two ancient, humanoid beings, under one roof.

The week passed with not much of a... drama, per sé. Sure, there were some strange creatures that appeared somewhere Downtown, suddenly deciding that they wanted to reside in Gotham and just have to create some ruckus to attract attention for themselves. Bruce and whatever squad he ran promptly vanquished such intentions and send those creatures back to where they had emanated from.

Some they had actually sent to Arkham Asylum, a containment place for the possessed. Supposedly, Arkham knew ways to un-possess them, exorcise the demons or whatever.

Operative word being 'whatever', because Tim knew that there were many who had left Arkham and still bearing the evilness they had possessed when they were thrown in.

Like Victor Szazs.

Szazs, once upon a time an heir of a major business - kind of like Tim - had lost his family business and fortune due to his own arrogance and gambling. Afterward, something snapped in him and he had started murdering people, claiming that each of the cut he'd made on his body to represent each kill would make him live longer.

"Uh, no." Jason actually cringed as he came up behind Tim and read Szazs' statement. Bruce had sent the case file to Tim, to see if he could figure out Szazs' possible next victim. "Demons would never make such a promise. If he said one had, he's lying or being lied-to."

Tim sighed. "Imagine how convenient our lives would be if ancients like you or Alfred or Zitka or other familiars are legally allowed to testify in court..." he groused.

Jason chuckled. "Yeeeah, some of us aren't quite so benevolent, either. We could lie and have no consequences of our lies. We don't subscribe to your deities, you know." he remarked. "shit, some of us were even your deities at some point in time."

Tim turned and glared at Jason contemplatively. "Would a familiar actually lead the magi to... like, do evil things?"

"No, at least not if they'd come to where I came from, right? More likely it's the magi who'd make his familiar do evil. The worst we could do is evil by silence." Jason replied. He thought for a moment, and then added, "or omission."

"Mmhmmm..." Tim hummed. "I understand omission. Your job is to protect me, after all." Jason placed his hand flat on Tim's head. "Right?" Tim pressed.

"Absolutely."

"I'd rather you don't omit any information for me, though, even if it could hurt me. I need all information before I can figure out what steps to take to handle something." Tim prompted.

"Sure," Jason replied. "it's not like you'll not jump from a ledge if I say it could kill you if you wanted to save somebody below, is it?"

"Absolutely," Tim echoed, grinning. "But I'll know how to make myself not dead if you could tell me things like, how far the distance is below, between ledges, how long of a rope I'd need... you know, things like that."

Jason sighed. "I'm a familiar, Tim, not an engineer." he said. "What I can and will do if you ever leap off a ledge is catch you and fly you out of there to safety. I cannot, however, go in advance and let you know of the dangers up ahead or stuff like that."

"Okay, that sounds good to me." Tim mused.

"I'd rather you don't put yourself in such a predicament, though, but I reckon I'll sound like a hypocrite." Jason added.

Tim looked at him curiously. "So allying myself with Bruce and Dick and Barbara and whatever crew they might have is and will be bringing danger to me. Why did you do it, anyway?" he asked.

"Okay, three reasons: First and foremost, you're untrained. It'll be more dangerous if you roam around on your own. They can train you, at least physically." Jason pointed out. "Magickally, that'll be my part. But stealth isn't exactly my forté, as you can probably tell..." Tim rolled his eyes, flashing back to the time when Jason first appeared. Other familiars would have slipped in quietly - a cat, a bird, anything. Even Zitka could slip in quietly and stealthily, probably, in spite of being an elephant. Jason just slammed into Tim's bedroom in all of his smokey glory.

"The next one: they are a formidable set of allies. Your goals align with theirs, which is to prevent the misuse of magick by... well, people like him--" Jason tapped on the laptop screen on Szazs' face. "and maybe one day have the natural creatures-- the ones called 'supernatural' by them layfolks, return and restore balance in the universe once again."

Jason was quiet for a good long while, that Tim had to turn again and looked at him. "What's the third?"

His eyes were a little blank, as if he was thinking of something else and was miles away from the question. So Tim snapped his fingers in front of Jason's face, only to have the latter caught his hand. "Don't. I heard you. The third is that they-- Bruce Wayne, that is; has a book that I haven't found yet. In it, there are many knowledge that even the All Caste didn't have in writing. They only have snippets of the knowledge that's generally useless, and if I can complete the snippets, it'll bring a massive change to the balance of power in the universe."

"And that should benefit me, how?" Tim wanted to know.

Jason glared back at him, seemed ambivalent at first, but then answered, "it'll give you all you ever wanted, Tim. Anything and everything. Even the dead."

It took nearly a whole minute before Tim spoke again, after battling and sorting the thousands of questions in his head. "Explain."

Jason shifted uneasily, turning to face Tim. "Remember the Pinocchio story, the tale about him being carved from enchanted wood? Not the sugared-up children's tale about him being 'blessed' by a fairy and come to life?"

"Yes, I have original fairy tales at home." Tim replied a little snarkily, because he did. His parents never thought of the children's version of fairy tales and instead would always give him the spooky, banal ones. "You would know of the nightmares I've had..." he added.

"Yeah, well, it's my duty to let you know that some of them are more like the kids' tales than the spooky ones. But anyway! Pinocchio. He was actually literally enchanted; fictional adventure notwithstanding. Now, said spell had been used to bring to life a lot of things--"

"Oh my god... Pinocchio was an effigy!" Tim suddenly caught on.

"Yeah, that. But effigies were not the only ones brought to life. Still, the spell was lost and my... 'school', so to speak, has been investigating the whereabout of the book since time immemorial; and concluded that it was lost in the hand of an unnamed warlock." Jason continued.

"Given that there are barely a handful of warlocks nowadays, and Bruce came from a long line of warlocks, you assumed it would've been in his ancestor's possession." Tim concluded.

"Exactly. Now, in the hands of a warlock - even someone like Bruce Wayne, the book is useless. But that would not prevent it from being acquired by a magickal person. Now..." Jason exhaled slowly. "...I can't postulate. But from what have been happening in the past... since I got to you, I have fears that the book could be in the wrong hands."

"Hence your insistence to find it. Did you ask Alfred?"

"Daimons didn't have the same views as familiars, Tim, Alfred could probably tell me where something is if I know what it looks like. Like, I could probably ask him for first editions Arthur Conan Doyle books, and he'll be able to point it to me. But this... book - I only call it book based on the ancient All Caste description of 'tome'. It could be in pieces, it could be a carved rock or pots or vases or papyrus..." Jason elaborated. "Alfred wouldn't care nor have curiosity of the contents of it, even if he could read it and/or are interested in modern age's literature..."

Tim sighed dejectedly. "Okay, I'll pinpoint this guy Szazs' next victim - I think I'm beginning to see a pattern here. Barbara can cross-check it later. And then I'll help you in finding this book or what? --just so we can go home afterward."

"I can't tell you what it looks like, alright? A second pair of eyes is handy, but I still can't tell your or show you what it looks like. It's just... if you see it, you'll know it."

"Thanks for the vagueness. Good thing my brain is pattern-based. See? Now I think I've got like, three possible next victim and hopefully Bruce can mobilize some protection before... whatever insanity Szasz is trying to do can actually--" Tim grumbled as he clicked the 'send' button. His report and analysis will be sent to Barbara, who would be assigning whoever she deemed necessary to protect the three-to-five probable victims. "Okay, let's--" Tim abruptly stood up, groaning as his muscles protested at the sudden movement. He stretched his entire body gently, getting a good yawn for good measure, and looked at Jason. "Let's?"

Jason hesitated for a long time before he nodded. "Alright. Let's go roam this obnoxiously massive mansion. Maybe we'll be able to go home before dark."

As daylight started to fade, Tim - and Jason - had to admit that looking for a 'tome' that defies description; may not look like an actual book; and likelyhidden by magick; in a mansion that is as big as several city blocks; was "an exercise in insanity," - according to Dick - who had returned at three p.m. from his errands - even after Alfred, Dick, and Zitka lent their literal and metaphorical hands.

"Exercise in insanity, indeed. But there is a benefit: I now know which parts of the house that are in dire needs of deep cleansing." Alfred commented mournfully, after observing the cobwebs on Tim's head. "Do not shake your head, Master Tim. Allow me." he added, and then a small dustpan and brush appeared out of nowhere as he brushed the cobweb off Tim's head.

Tim barely managed just not to shudder. "I think we'll need a shower..." he lamented.

"Bathrooms at the ready in your respective bedrooms, young sirs. And Master Dick, kindly utilize the showers and not the bathtubs. Otherwise you shall clean it yourself." Alfred remarked, glaring at Dick who was a little worse for wear than Tim - thanks to his insistence on looking at literal nooks and crannies above their heads, on the ceilings and thereabout.

DIck grinned unrepentantly at Alfred, and then glared daggers at Jason - who remained pristine. "There are times in life I wish I was a familiar... or has the ability to be dust-proof."

Jason snickered back at him. "There are times I wish I were something else, but in this right here time, I'm just happy at being dust-free."

"You two still thinking of going home?" Dick asked.

"Yeah, I gotta. I have early classes tomorrow." Tim replied.

Dick nodded. "Okay... I'll go with you. We'll get to town before Bruce gets back so I can hitch a ride with him."

"Dude, no need. It's not that dark, yet..." Tim protested. But Dick just gave him a blank glare.

"...and the city isn't exactly like, a few dozen miles away. Anyway! I have to get myself some stuff, anyway. Just... pretend you're giving me a lift if your pride is not happy." Dick replied.

"Okay, fine..." Tim sighed. "But you're not driving my car."

Dick gave him a mock gasp. "Oh nooo... what would I do now that I'm not allowed to drive you millennial's hybrid car!" he mourned. Tim grinned. Dick's car was a sportscar that cost about four times Tim's. Probably as much in fuel, as well.

"I'm sure you'll find some ways to keep yourself entertained..." Tim retorted. "So, fifteen minutes?"

"Good for me." Dick nodded, getting up to get to his own showers. "Might want to make a note on what you'll need from downtown, Alfred!"

It took nearly all the way back to town, where the city lights started to illuminate the horizon, that Tim realized that the atmosphere has indeed changed. The roads were not dark, yet there seemed to be spots where the darkness were... less diluted.

"Yeah, most of those spirits are just hangin' out, but some are... not." Dick explained. "The main reason why we prefer to go in pairs of humans. No offense to familiars. Just..."

"I get it. They... I can't protect you if you concede to their ways. And those aren't the kind who'd use physical violence, per sé." Jason huffed. "Like, if you see a baby deer in the middle of the road, not moving. What are you going to do?-- kind of thing."

"Good people would stop." Tim stated.

"Good people traveling alone will then be theirs. Especially if they're magis." Dick intoned.

"Oh," Tim exhaled. "How come I've never seen them before?"

"You didn't have a familiar before. They're aiming for those who already have a familiar." Dick paused. "I have no clue what they'd do to the familiar, if the magi is... like, converted or something. But you know, just to be on the safe side, let's not try to find out, yeah?"

"Right," Tim mumbled a reply while trying to ignore the questions in his mind. He decided right there and then that he wanted to know, just so he could figure out how to not fall prey to whatever lurked on the road from Wayne Manor to Gotham. From the passenger's side, Jason sighed heavily.

"I'll look for why, who, what, or how. Right now, I think we better concentrate on Gothamites' legendary road rage, so we can get home in one piece."