#* 32 hours of live training with instructor.

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Course Information:

Nisa

IBM Sterling OMS Online Course

Course Duration: 25 Hours

Timings: Weekdays (1-2 Hours per day) [OR] Weekends (2-3 Hours per day)

Training Method: Instructor Led Online

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[duskandstarlight]

Embers & Light (Chapter 32)

Notes: Thanks for being so patient waiting for this latest chapter. As usual it turned out to be a hefty MF so I hope you enjoy reading it :) I think this chapter has got the most locations in it so far: Windhaven, Ironcrest, The Steppes and Velaris!

As usual, let me know what you think. And if you enjoy reading it please do hit the reblog button. Thank you, thank you, thank you <3

And during the wait for Chapter 33 (which I will post on Sunday 28th March / 4 April if all goes to plan), do feel free to drop into my anon box--I love hearing from you guys! 

Chapter Thirty-Two Cassian

Despite a day and night of rest following the initial bout of healing at the cottage, the next week tumbled by in a whirlwind of activity. If life were a play, Cassian thought, then everything had previously been in intermission and the Gods had suddenly deigned to continue the show.

After speaking with Maya, Feyre and Rhys had winnowed an exhausted Cassian and Nesta back to Windhaven before leaving immediately for Velaris. By the time Cassian  waved them goodbye, Nesta was already lying in the foetal position on her length of the couch, her head nestled into the corner. Silent silver flames danced in the hearth and Cassian only had time to groan before he collapsed onto the branch of cushions directly opposite. His wing had landed with an unceremonious thump onto the coffee table, moulding itself around a stack of books, the tip of his fingers grazing Nesta’s thigh. She did not bat him away. Her eyes were already half-closed, her breathing deep and even.

Cassian heard the gentle reassuring thump of her heart in his ears before everything had turned dark.

It was the click of the backdoor that had woken him the next day, heralding Mas and Roksana’s arrival. Cassian had blinked the sleep from his eyes only to be met with the crown of Nesta’s golden head and the scent of jasmine and vanilla entangled like something vital in his lungs. 

Only then did he remember the nightmare that had dragged him from sleep in the dead of night. His eyes had snapped open, his body bound and immovable by the heavy weight of death and the illusion of powdered ash in his mouth. His chest had heaved but he’d managed to whip his head to the side—searching for her—only to find Nesta blinking blearily at him, as if his torment had pulled her out of the clutches of sleep. She hadn’t said a word, had only climbed across the cushions until she was lying at a right-angle to him, her body stretched across the intersection of the couch.

As soon as her head had lain next to his, Cassian had found himself able to move, as if the bindings holding him prisoner had suddenly been cut free. Shuddering, he had wound his hands through her hair and pressed his face to her scalp, breathing her in—the scent of her that told him she was safe and sound. That she was not the crumbling ash that coated his tongue.

Nesta’s hand had come up to clasp at his elbow, a silent comfort that told him she was there, before they had tumbled into the comforting dark together.

He hadn’t dreamt after that.

Biting back a sleepy grin, Cassian watched with amusement as Mas halted abruptly at the left-hand archway to the living room.

“Sorry anak,” she apologised with a mortified, unnecessary flush to her brown cheeks. Her hazel eyes flitted from him to Nesta, no doubt clocking how close their heads were and how Cassian’s fingers and nose were still buried in Nesta’s hair. “I didn’t realise you were still sleeping.”

With the swiftness of a mother prone to scooping up little ones before they got themselves into trouble, Mas grabbed for Roksana as the youngling tried to enter the room, gathering the little girl tightly to her chest. Roksana had made to lurch forward and her wings were still spread wide, ready to aid her attempt to launch across the room—towards Sala who was spread out by the fire.

Slowly, the manticore lifted her head from where it was resting on her huge paws and cocked it to one side. The beast’s sandy ears pricked forward in intrigue, her beautiful almond eyes soft and curious as she soaked in the sight of the little Illyrian buzzing with energy.

“Manticore!” Roksana exclaimed with a delighted clap of her hands. She looked up at Mas with unbridled excitement and then, to Cassian’s surprise, to him.

Cassian had never seen the youngling’s face so unfettered—so childlike. In fact, Cassian had never heard her speak. He knew she spoke the odd word to Mas and Nesta, but with him present, the youngling usually remained mute.

An ache rippled over Cassian’s wings as he folded them in and sat upright. Biting back the grimace that wanted to fight its way onto his expression, he shot Roksana his best smile and told her, “The manticore’s name is Sala.”

“Sala,” Roksana repeated quietly, turning her head to peek up at Mas with wide hazel eyes. The housekeeper grinned at the gesture and dropped a loving kiss to the wind-snarled mass of the youngling’s hair.

Nesta, who had been as immovable as a rock, finally stirred, no doubt dragged from the blanket of sleep by the sound of voices and the loss of Cassian’s hand in her hair.

Those steel blue eyes immediately sought his and everything in Cassian tightened as he found them to be clear and trauma-free—as wide and open as the moments after he had kissed her. After he had made her shatter on his tongue.

“Hello,” Nesta croaked. Then, she spied Roksana and Mas, and the sleepy smile that graced her face had all of his desire dissipating. His heart softened as Nesta propped herself up onto a forearm and said, “Hello.”

“You can go to Nesta only,” Mas told Roksana sternly as the youngling scampered across the room, scrambling up onto the sofa so she could wrap her arms around Nesta’s waist.

“She wants to pet the manticore,” Mas told Nesta with a faint, amused smile as Roksana whispered the word twice more to Nesta with a point of a stubby finger towards the fireplace. “Your manticore,” the housekeeper corrected with a toothy grin, even as Mas glanced nervously at the beast who had jumped to her feet, eager to greet Cassian as he rose from the cushions.

Cassian stretched with a groan that evolved into a wide yawn. His limbs were stiff from sleeping for so long. He needed to fly—to exercise and warm up his muscles. He needed to bathe. Gods, how long had they been sleeping? Eighteen hours? More? He usually only slept that length of time after battle.

“Devlon and the other instructors trained you this morning?” Cassian checked with Mas.

The housekeeper nodded. “More balance and footwork,” she told him. “Then applying that to self-defence.”

Cassian’s nod indicated that he was satisfied. “Take the salve from the bathroom cupboard on your way out today,” he instructed. One quick sweeping assessment of the Illyrian had told Cassian that she was sore. “It looks like you could do with it.”

A muzzle was thrust into Cassian’s hand and he looked down to find Sala staring up at him beseechingly. She let out an indignant whine as if to punctuate that she didn’t appreciate being ignored and Cassian snickered, before he bent down to scratch behind the beast’s ears.

When the manticore began to purr loudly, Roksana clapped her hands in delight.

“She’s very friendly,” Nesta told Roksana with a smile. She smoothed back the girl’s wild hair and kissed Roksana’s chubby cheek. Nesta’s hair was mussed, golden strands falling from her coronet which was now loose, no doubt from where his hands had been in it all night.

Cassian wasn’t sure she could look more beautiful. An intense urge overtook him and he almost felt the tug at his ribcage as he imagined striding across the room and slanting his mouth on hers.

Gods, he needed to taste her again more than anything.

Ignoring the sharp, knowing glance Mas threw his way, Cassian created some distance. Doing his best to appear casual, he leant against the right-hand archway that led to the kitchen and took the time to wrangle back some semblance of control.

But then he had watched Nesta introduce Roksana to Sala and everything tightened in a completely different way. His throat bobbed at the look of wonder on the youngling’s face as she stroked Sala’s fur and Cassian knew the sight was something he would cherish forever.

With a fervour that surprised even him, Cassian wished Feyre was with them. Because he knew what he wanted for next Solstice—a painting of this. Of Roksana before Sala, Nesta cradling the youngling’s body from behind, her chin tucked atop the girl’s dark tangle of hair, a secret smile on her face. Just the thought of Feyre brushing the moment onto canvas had sent shivers down his spine—and in that moment Cassian had understood just how irrevocably entangled he was with the female before him. How completely and utterly besotted he was in a way he had never thought possible with anyone.

Later, Roksana had buried her face into Sala’s neck, her small hands clutching at the manticore’s ears and whispered Sala’s name. And when Nesta had laughed, the sound had only confirmed to Cassian what he already knew: that he had never been so content. That he would live with the pain of being so near to Nesta and not being able to have her if it meant he could witness her smile freely. If he could hear her laugh without trying to stifle it as if it were a fire to be put out.

Over the following week, training the females, overseeing the military units and ferrying between Windhaven and the cottage preoccupied Cassian’s every breath. Nesta was just as busy, and she spent any free time she had in the widows camp or running errands with Mas. She had even flown to the travelling market with Mas, which had set itself up for a few days in the Paya valley, selling all means of goods, from spices and fresh produce to jewellery, weapons and swaths and swaths of fabric.

When he did not winnow to the bungalow to deliver them in person, Rhys spoke frequently into Cassian’s mind to deliver updates. Azriel bled in and out of shadows scouting for Kallon and utilising his most-trusted Illyrian contacts to feedback information of the ongoings in Ironcrest’s camp—the former attempts of which had been futile. And all the while they waited with bated breath as news continued to reach them that Marsh had still not left his bed.

It was only a matter of time until Kallon had the right to the title of Prince of Ironcrest. They all knew it. The question would be whether he’d come back to claim his title. And if he did, how the princeling would wield his new found power to rally his cause and drum up the discontent even further.

Given their demands and duties, Cassian and Nesta did not often find themselves alone, something which Cassian found to be both torture and a blessing. Even during their flights to the cottage they flew separately—Cassian on his own wings and Nesta atop Sala—and Nesta had even taken to bringing Roksana with her once the majority of the girls had recovered enough to be taken to Velaris by Mor. The little Illyrian had been delighted to discover Caer whom she adored even more than Sala, most likely due to his endless patience whenever Roksana clambered onto his back. Caer would pad around the grounds outside the cottage, carting Roksana about as she tried to balance herself with outstretched wings. Whenever she toppled off—which was frequently—the manticore would nuzzle at Roksana’s stomach with a teasing growl, which never failed to elicit squeals of giggles that cracked even Frawley’s hard exterior.

Lorrian, who had taken a shine to Roksana well before her visits, had used the youngling’s attendance around the cottage as an opportunity to give her some much-needed flying lessons. Cassian had watched with amusement, leaning against the paddock railings with Nesta and Frawley by his side as Roksana zoomed around the paddock with such speed even Lorrian had stumbled to catch up with her. Cassian had even spied a few of the girls peeking curiously from around the barn doors, no doubt drawn by Frawley and Nesta’s amused outburst of laughter. In the end, even Maya and Samra had come outside to watch.

After the lesson, Frawley had awarded Roksana with a huge mug of hot chocolate, before depositing the youngling swiftly into the tub for a much-needed bath.

In the rare moments that Cassian and Nesta were alone, Cassian found things… difficult, and it was through no fault of Nesta’s. After all, it was Cassian who had given Nesta the choice of deciding what their activities between the sheets had meant. Yet, Cassian could not help the bitter disappointment that wound through him when Nesta did not seek him out again at night—neither for company or for something more heated.

The problem was that Cassian had not truly known the gravity of what he would be dealing with in the aftermath. Knowing what Nesta now tasted like—the scent of which had faded but not disappeared from his tongue—tested a new reserve of Cassian’s strength, and Cassian found himself flitting between an almost terrifying, composed calm to a fervent, primal yearning that had him shaking with the need to touch her… to consume her… to please her in every way possible that went beyond carnal lust.

Oddly, it was the small things that set him off: when she stood too close or when those smoky grey eyes searched for him over anyone else. The worst was when she allowed a small smile to grace her beautiful face or when she taunted him, each teasing jab or jest enough to tell him that she was no longer wading through the muddy waters of trauma. That she was happier—more content.

Sometimes Nesta would touch him without him prompting her to, her fingers snagging on his arm or her body brushing against his as she moved to make tea at the kitchen counter. And those light touches… they burned, as if Cassian was nothing but an animal and Nesta was on heat. His body itched and trembled and begged for her, and Cassian had taken to pleasuring himself at night and first thing in the morning, recreating the sounds of her moans in his head and the grasp of her fingers in his hair. The way she had finally said his name and the weight of her breasts cupped in his palms. The way her body had arched and moulded to his as she had begged for release.

And finally, the way she had reached for him. Those fingers as they had dipped just below the waistband of his pants…

Fantasy and memory became friend and foe. And Cassian pleasured himself in the shower. After training. In the middle of the night. And even then, Cassian was only sated for the briefest of moments until that need crashed down over him again and he had to think of any grotesque image that would cool his blood: Devlon. Marsh. Kallon.

As a consequence, Cassian found himself keeping his distance whenever it became too much. It hurt to do it, as if something was tearing inside of him, and he knew Nesta had clocked it. But she didn’t bring it up and nor did she broach what had happened between the bedsheets. She did not shut him out. Did not poison him with words or derisive looks, even when, for the most part, Cassian thought his actions called for it.

And all the while her scent lingered like the sweetest perfume. It was worse when they were together. Then, it grew stronger. It filled his nostrils, his mouth, the taste of her heady and wonderful and almost sinful in its reminder that Cassian had experienced his one chance with her: one kiss, one touch, one taste.

That was another reason why Cassian was keeping his distance. What was it Nesta had said when he’d told her that the others might scent what they had done? It’s a complete invasion of privacy. So, when the others had arrived, Cassian had created space between them whenever he could. Had watched the way Nesta’s eyes had become more hollow whenever he ensured he was stationed at the opposite side of the room. He hadn’t had the time to communicate to her that his distance was to try and respect her wish for privacy—to prevent the others knowing what they had done—and he had been forced to watch her tumble into the dark depths of her trauma without a hand to haul her out.

Until he’d had to act as a tether, anyway.

Despite his efforts, Cassian suspected that all of his friends had sensed a shift. Mor’s gift was truth, after all, and Azriel and Rhys knew him better than anyone. His brothers had always reprimanded him for wearing his heart on his sleeve to the detriment of no-one but himself, but Cassian couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help a lot of things when it came to Nesta, and he didn’t trust himself not to let that carefully formed leash slip and ruin everything he’d promised her.

He’d already failed once; If you summon your healing magic, I’ll taste you again.

Mother Above. Cassian had even had to resort to training Nesta with Lorrian at the cottage—an unacknowledged chaperone—using the excuse that Nesta needed to not only practice with the bow, but spar with other opponents so she could experience different fighting techniques. And whilst that was true, it was also because training was sacred to Cassian. It taught people to survive and endure and he would not taint the opportunity by tackling Nesta to the ground and slanting his mouth on hers.

Not to mention that she probably didn’t want him to do that, anyway.

“Struggling?” Lorrian taunted at Cassian one evening after dinner.

The two of them had stepped back out into the paddock in order to exhaust some excess energy. They had left Nesta in the cottage living room with Frawley, Maya and Samra. Roksana, who had been running around all day with the manticores, had passed out in front of the hearth, curled up between the two beasts, one of her little wings curved around Caer’s head.

Maya’s eldest daughter Ailie remained upstairs. In fact, she rarely came out of the room she shared with her mother and sister, still too traumatised to face even those inside of the cottage. When she did emerge, she’d sit in front of the armchair by the fire and stare at the flames, as if she were hoping she were one of them and she could escape up the chimney and out into the freedom of the open sky.

But Samra—the youngest of Maya’s girls—was slowly and shyly come out of her shell, although she stuck to her mother like glue, clearly terrified that she might disappear.

“Struggling with what?” Cassian drawled to his friend, as he tapped his siphons to rid himself of his armour. It disappeared scale-by-scale, revealing a short-sleeved tunic layered over a long-sleeved one. Both were fastened at the waist by a lightweight rope of leather, which Cassian tossed to the side before shucking off the short-sleeved top.

Usually Cassian favoured fighting in skin, but Illyria in the depths of winter tested even his fierce warrior blood.

Snorting, Lorrian flared his own siphons and a gleaming emerald arm appeared in a wave of light. “You’ll feel better once you have beaten the shit out of me.”

Cassian raised a scar-slashed eyebrow. “That’s defeatist of you.”

Lorrian rolled his magical arm as he adjusted to the additional weight. “You have intermittent aggression and arousal seeping from your pores. I’m surprised Nesta hasn’t detected it.”

With a dismissive wave of a hand, Cassian replied, “I’m not that bad.”

The way Lorrian grunted told Cassian that he didn’t agree, but to Cassian’s relief, the no further comment came.

Cassian did not need his friend to point out that in the past week the two of them had sparred more frequently than they usually did in months.

“I’m acclimatising,” Cassian said shortly as they began to circle one another, their fists held up to their faces.

For a few turns, there was only the sound of their feet on the wet, spongy earth beneath the soles of their boots. Cassian’s eyes did not stray from Lorrian’s face, allowing his peripheral vision to drink in his friend’s every movement.

It was true that Cassian had more weight behind him than the colonel, but like he was in the skies, Lorrian could be as quick as hell in the training ring. Cassian had learnt long ago that sparring with Lorrian wasn’t about throwing the fiercest punch, but being alert enough to recognise when the bastard was going to duck and strike a fierce upper cut to the gut.

“You’ll stay in Velaris for a few days?” Lorrian asked, after their third round of circling.

Cassian flashed his friend a grin as if to tell him he knew what he was doing. It turned out to be more of a grimace. “You know that I am. Quit trying to distract me.”

“And Nesta’s going with you?”

“You know she is.”

“My point,” Lorrian continued with a slight pant, “is that you better master your shit before you get there. I imagine tensions will be high enough without a snarling general in the mix.”

“Things have been mending. She’s doing well.”

“Incredible,” Lorrian corrected, his eyes flitting to Cassian’s solar plexus in a way that betrayed his desired move. “I’ve never met anyone more resilient. Frawley holds her in high regard and we know that doesn’t happen often.”

In the corner of Cassian’s eye, something moved at the far left-hand side of the paddock, but then Lorrian’s right elbow dropped and Cassian had the opening he had been waiting for. He lunged, his fist flying for Lorrian’s jaw and the colonel barely had time to slam his left arm up to deflect the blow.

But Cassian did not give Lorrian time to recover. He was already moving, his left fist cutting upwards to land a sharp jab to his friend’s ribs. Lorrian tried for a shot to the face but Cassian’s right arm was already deflecting and counter-jabbing before the colonel had time to so much as think about doing anything else but blocking.

Breath sawed out of them and Cassian knew that to any onlooker they were barely more than a blur of grunting flesh and lethal wings.

It was only a lightning fast parry from Lorrian as he jumped back on agile feet, that spared him from being thrown to the forest floor.

It struck up a distance between them again, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of wings as they flared outwards and tucked in tight.

And then they began again. Circling one another and panted for air, before one of them created an opening and then there was nothing but punches and blocks and counterattacks, of footwork and grunts and wings thrown out for balance. Cassian felt himself slip into that calm—the mantra that felt like a dance to him—until he landed a precise counter-head blow as Lorrian stepped in for a hook to the ribs.

Lorrian’s knees hit the floor with a thud and Cassian stepped back, breathing hard, giving his friend space to recover. Turning, he used his wrist to wiped the blood away from his lip, only to find Maya watching him with wide-eyes, her arms wrapped tightly around her body.

He lifted a hand in greeting and she offered him a small smile in return, before she turned on the spot and disappeared back inside the house.

“That was better going than last time,” Cassian told Lorrian. He extended his hand to help his friend up from the ground but Lorrian only waved him proudly away. “But you’re still dropping your left arm and leaving your face open. Once that falls apart so does all of the rest.”

Shaking his head in irritation, Lorrian spat blood onto the damp earth. Neither of them had been going at full pelt, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t roughed one another up a little. Cassian’s ribs were already bleating from the impact of Lorrian’s fists and he knew he was already sporting a bruise on his right cheekbone. “I spent all this time mourning the loss of a limb, but when I magic it back for hand-to-hand combat it feels wrong.” Grimacing, the colonel rolled his arm in its socket. “It’s like learning all over again and the worst damn thing is that even when I magic it away at the end of the session, my brain still creates a phantom soreness where my limb should be.”

Chuckling, Cassian clapped his friend on the back. The sparring hadn’t only been a method of burning off energy for Cassian. Now Lorrian had taken up the position of colonel, Lorrian had asked Cassian to train with him more regularly. Whilst Lorrian’s magic could bring his limb back into temporary existence, Lorrian’s muscle memory had depleted over the years. Training with Cassian provided his friend with the opportunity for his brain to reconnect with his lost limb for those times when he needed it the most. “You’re Illyrian, Lor. You can deal with some pulled muscles.”

Another grunt. “It would be easier on my body if you didn’t fight like a damn God.”

Cassian flashed his teeth. “I can’t help that I was destined to lead on the battlefields.”

“And so modest, too,” Lorrian grumbled. Then, he sobered. “Nesta seems a little better.”

Cassian had not spoken to anyone about Nesta’s trauma, but it was there so plainly for anyone to see that he did not jump to deny it. And… pride wound through him at how well she was doing. At how she hadn’t shut him out. “Yes. I hope—“ he blew out a long breath, suddenly unable to stifle the worry that took hold of his brow. “I hope Velaris doesn’t make it worse.”

“You think it will do that?”

“As you guessed, there are a lot of unresolved tensions and conflicts,” Cassian admitted. Not to mention that Nesta herself had once begged him not to send her back to Velaris. Cassian did not know why she’d had a change of heart. He knew she wanted to visit the girls and help them to settle, but she’d asked to come back with him before that. “Nesta wasn’t happy in Velaris,” he finished simply.

“Does she know it’s your birthday on Hogmanay?”

“No,” Cassian said shortly. He shot his friend a sharp look. “Don’t tell her.”

Cocking an eyebrow in confusion, Lorrian asked quizzically, “Why?”

“Because Nesta has enough to worry about. If she thinks there will be a party that she has to attend with my family where she has to pretend that she’s happy, then she will bolt.”

Lorrian frowned. “She won’t bolt from you, Cass.��

But Cassian was not so sure. Lorrian did not know the Nesta in Velaris; the sharp, angry female who had been so terrifyingly sick.

“What you have seen is not Nesta at her most traumatised,” Cassian told Lorrian in a long breath. “When she came here…” He trailed off, his throat bobbing. “Things were very bad. Velaris was toxic for her. The War was hard on her—more so than any of us.”

Kallon had highlighted some of Nesta’s habits during their trip to Ironcrest and Cassian had no desire to voice them aloud again.

This time it was Lorrian’s turn to clap him on the shoulder. “And now Nesta is stronger. She’s built herself from the ashes and become someone the females revere, Cassian. You know what the Illyrians are calling her.”

Cassian did know. Did not want to think too hard about the silver-flamed Diyosa with a fierce manticore by her side. Together they protected and defended the females of the Night Court.

“She might be the only High Fae in the history of Illyria to have the respect of our people,” Lorrian continued. “She’s already winning over the majority of the female population by doing nothing but being herself. She could single-handedly sway the rebellion if we played our cards right, Cass.”

Cassian did not say anything. Was too scared to.

“Even the males have begrudging respect, you have seen how Devlon is around her. At the very least, they recognise that she is powerful. Is she still going with you to instate the new law tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

Rhys had offered Nesta a choice: to assist Mor in settling the last of the girls into the library or to come with the rest of them to each of the Illyrian camps to announce the new clipping law.

“This is what you have been campaigning for all your life,” Lorrian said quietly. “Nesta could pave the way for something new. Something better. You both could.”

“You seem to have forgotten that I am nothing but a lowly bastard,” Cassian stated gruffly, as together they walked out of the paddock and past the barn. “And that I have done very little to stifle this rebellion.”

“You earned the title of Prince of Bastards a long time ago, amongst other names.”

“That is not a title.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Lorrian asked with a flicker of surprise. “That you’re not good enough for Nesta?”

Cassian stalked towards the back door, suddenly keen to find Nesta and go home. He wasn’t angry, just… uncomfortable. Lorrian had hit too close to the bone.

“Don’t do yourself a disservice by labelling yourself as something others have tried to falsely pigeon hole you into,” Lorrian told Cassian sternly as they reached the threshold. “You can’t dismantle a faulty system if deep down you believe what the oppressors have drummed into you.”

Then, with a final clap to Cassian’s shoulder, Lorrian disappeared into the cottage.

___  

As the pastel hues of dawn bled into day the next morning, Rhys and Feyre winnowed into Windhaven.

Even if it hadn’t been for the star-kissed breeze that wound its way through the mountain pass, Cassian would have known his brother and his mate had arrived. Cassian was halfway through correcting Emerie’s stance when her head whipped to the right of the sparring rings, along with every other female who had turned up for practice that morning.

Only Nesta did not turn, but like Cassian, she had been expecting them. Rhys had spoken into Cassian’s head the evening before whilst he and Nesta were eating dinner, informing him that he and his mate would arrive just after dawn the next morning. They planned to watch the females train, before Rhys would carry out his quarterly observation of Windhaven’s aerial fleet so he could witness the progress Cassian had insisted they were making in reforming the Illyrian troops.

Feyre would join Nesta and Mas on an inspection of the camp—the widows camp in particular—before they would all reconvene for a quick lunch. From there, they would travel to each of the camps main squares to announce the new clipping law, whilst Mor would winnow to the cottage with Frawley and transport the remaining females to the library.

Cassian knew that Nesta was not looking forward to going back to Ironcrest, but she did not change her mind about accompanying them to the camps. For some reason, the fact that she was willing to brave it at her own expense had only served to make Cassian fall for her even more. And although she had retired to bed early that night, she had left her bedroom door ajar just as she had promised during their time in Ironcrest. Cassian had watched her read in bed out of the corner of his eye for an hour or so before the faelight in her room winked out.

It had taken a long time for her breathing to become deep and for the blankets to stop rustling as she tossed and turned in bed. Cassian had fought the urge to crawl in beside her; to fold her into his body and tangle their legs together. To reassure himself with not only with the sound of her heartbeat but the patter of it against the centre of his palm.

Now, Nesta stood beside him with her hands on her hips, using the opportunity to catch her breath. She was dressed in her favourite leathers and her golden brown hair was weaved back tightly from her face. It revealed her flushed cheeks and pink nose, which was thanks to the frigid bite of frost that had kissed the landscape the night before.

“Back to work,” Cassian ordered the females firmly, as their attention lingered on the new arrivals. He heard the same command echo around the adjoining sparring rings from the other trainers. “I want three sets of ten lunges on each leg, followed by twenty one-two punches against your partner’s sparring pads,” Cassian continued.

He was teaching the youngest age group that morning and Nesta remained at his side to assist with the demonstrations. “Remember to make two clean punches,” he told the females. “It should sound like a beating heart—boom, boom—but your fists should move in a fluid movement like an arrow. One fist is the head, the other is the tail.”

He held up his palms so Nesta could demonstrate. Unsurprisingly, her punches were perfectly formed.

“Good,” he praised her. “Partner up with Emerie again whilst I do the rounds.”

Leaving Nesta with the shopkeeper, Cassian weaved his way around the ring, stopping when he needed to gently correcting a stance or a technique. In the corner of his eye, Cassian saw Sala give up her station beneath a copse of young pine trees. The manticore gently nudged off Roksana who had thrown her arms around the beast’s neck, and slunk over to Rhys and Feyre, her silver tail a blaze cutting through the brisk morning air.

The manticore paid no heed as Rhys stilled and his magic crackled—a male ready to protect his mate—but something angry rose in Cassian. He stifled it. Told himself he’d be nervous if a young manticore was roaming around near his mate without its fae counterpart beside it. Yet… the females around the camp had accepted Sala more readily than Cassian had anticipated. To them, Sala and Nesta were a gift from the old Gods—a level or protection against the evils in Prythian—and whilst they kept their distance they did not flinch when Sala walked by.

It helped that the manticore was good with the children. She allowed them to tug at her ears and hang around her neck, only letting out a warning growl if they pulled too hard or she’d had enough.

And the males… even they treated Sala with a level of begrudging respect and terror. Nobody could dispute the old magic that clearly stated that Sala was Nesta’s and Nesta was Sala’s. Cassian couldn’t say he was put out by it. If anything, it offered Nesta an undisputed level of protection that meant she could roam the camp and surrounding skies with more freedom. There had been so many times this week when Nesta had come back to the bungalow in time for dinner, her cheeks glowing and her eyes so wonderfully bright that Cassian couldn’t stop the delighted, relieved smile that graced his expression.

Ignoring the magic that was heavy in the air, Sala drew up at Feyre’s side. Feyre’s eyes were a little wide as the manticore nudged her muzzle into her hand in greeting, before the beast sat back on her haunches. Those golden eyes fixed back on where Nesta stood in the sparring ring, her weight braced on a back foot as Emerie pummelled her fists into her hands. But when Feyre dared to run her hand down the silken fur of Sala’s head, the manticore’s eyes briefly slatted in pleasure.

“She’s on our side, you know,” Cassian told his brother later, as they stood at the lip of the mountain pass where the sparring rings jutted out into the Illyrian sky. Feyre and Nesta had disappeared to the widows camp whilst Rhys observed the Windhaven forces. “Quit acting like Sala is going to tear Feyre limb from limb.”

Rhys’s attention slid from the males engaged in a sword fight to pin Cassian with violent stare that did nothing to quell Cassian’s irritation. “In case you have forgotten, Sala is a manticore. I believe I have some leniency to be wary of a beast who could rip out my mate’s throat with little hesitation.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian retorted, making sure he kept his voice low so as not to draw attention. “A manticore has its own moral compass and its own ability to judge who is and isn’t a threat. And,” he continued, “Nesta would never harm Feyre. She would never allow Sala to attack her.”

“Nesta’s magic is so vast you could add up the magic of six of the High Fae nobility and it would seem like a drop in the Sidra in comparison to Nesta’s. So excuse me if I take precautions given her relationship with my mate is volatile at best and the manticore answers to no-one but her.”

Barely contained fury split across Cassian’s expression and he clamped down on it, lowering his mental shields on instinct so Rhys’s dark consciousness could step inside his mind. Stop spewing shit, Cassian snapped internally, his voice thunderous now he did not have to control the level of his voice. And stop disrespecting Nesta. Her trauma runs deeper than you could ever imagine, yet here she is, defending the Illyrian people and fighting for what is right.

And Rhys… his brother actually blinked at the force behind Cassian’s words. It was not often that Cassian truly lost his temper—not like this.

Releasing a slow breath, Cassian finally loosed the words he’d needed to say aloud for a long time; If you don’t forgive Nesta, you will forever drive a wedge between the two sisters. You forget that Nesta is an empath. Why do you think she turned down every job you offered her? Your offers were never genuine.

Rhys observed Cassian with a level of scrutiny he hadn’t been subject to in a long, long while. Cassian did not squirm, only stared his brother down, unflinching. You can’t welcome Nesta to the Court of Dreams without a level of trust, brother. Let her show you what she’s capable of. Give her space and time. Nesta is strong and fierce and proud but she feels deeper than anyone I’ve ever met. She is well aware of the wrongs she’s committed. Do not think she does not suffer for them, but she is not someone to be controlled. Nesta cannot and should not be tamed by anyone but herself.

This time Rhys’s blink was laboured as if a realisation had just clicked in his brain. Cassian knew that he had not considered that he might prevent Feyre from mending a relationship that she yearned for. And to know he could be the cause of his mate’s unhappiness…

Rhys wasn’t without fault—nobody was—but this bias had gone on too long.

His brother seemed to think so, too. Ok, Rhys conceded. You’re right. I’m sorry. But know that it will always be my instinct to protect Feyre, you know that. Even if there’s nothing to protect her from I will never stop worrying.

Cassian did know. It was why he was so worried about this afternoon. About Nesta joining them whilst they announced the new law to a population of hostile, backward Illyrians.

But Cassian graced Rhys with a taunting smile that was free of his earlier anger. I understand. But you should know that if I see you mistrust Nesta or Sala again, I will drag you into the sparring ring. And we both know who will win that fight, brother.

Rhys’s velvet soft laugh echoed around Cassian’s mind and then that midnight dark retreated. Cassian carefully stacked up his mental shields until they were a ring of indestructible fire.

And all the while, Cassian did not voice what they both already knew: that it was his instinct to protect Nesta, too.

___

“What if instating the clipping law today motivates the rebellion?” Feyre asked uncertainly as they ate a quick lunch together in the bungalow.

Azriel had arrived a few minutes prior and they all sat together on the couch, plates balanced on their laps. Mas had been busy preparing food dosas that morning and even Rhys’s eyes had lit up with delight as he thanked the blushing housekeeper, piling copious amounts of potato onto his pancake.

It struck Cassian as he surveyed the people in the room before him—his loved ones— that the bungalow too small for so much company. And that was without Mor or Amren, the latter of whom had remained behind in Velaris to watch over the wards, alongside overseeing an important meeting with the merchants in stead of Rhys.

Cassian also suspected that Rhys’s second remained behind because his brother didn’t want any of the Illyrian’s to glean just how much power Amren had lost in the war—how she was no longer the nightmare the children of Prythian were told about—the ancient, terrifying other who would drink their blood if they misbehaved.

The new law would be decreed in all of the market squares of the major camps. Alaksander would travel with them and would be publicly clipped—a living example of what would happen to anyone who disobeyed the law that had been instated for centuries. Alaksander would prove that the new penalty for clipping another’s wings was not just a threat: the Night Court would follow through on their promises.

All of the Illyrian nobility had been informed of the impending law by Night Court winnowgram, each letter signed by both High Lord and High Lady. The reaction had not been a pleasant one and even though Cassian knew the amendment to the law was progress, he couldn’t help but wish it was not a bastard who had stooped so low as to mistreat girls in such an abominable way. What might have been different if Alaksander had not been brought up on the cold and brutal fringes of society, where only iron will and sheer luck meant you survived? It didn’t excuse his actions, but Cassian couldn’t shake the leaden sensation in his gut that whispered; what if, what if, what if?

“It could go either way,” Cassian confessed finally to Feyre, his expression grim.

As he spoke, cold fingers brushed against the back of his hand and Cassian looked down in surprise to find Nesta’s forefinger curl around his. He had dared to sit next to her, unable to emerge triumphant from the battle that came with his innate need to oversee what she ate—fetching her chai when she barely touched her tea, spooning more yoghurt atop her dosa to counteract the spices. Feyre, he knew, had watched the entire process with a bemused expression that bordered on amusement. Rhys’s eyes had just glimmered knowingly. Azriel remained stone-faced, but Cassian knew his brother was raising an internal eyebrow at him as those shadows whispered and whispered and whispered.

Cassian adjusted his grip until their fingers intertwined just as a soft, gentle breeze fluttered down that tether. It smelt sweet like summer. Like freshly cut hay bails and the muted perfume of flowers and grass. In his mind, Cassian caught a fleeting image of Nesta running her hands through a golden field of wheat as she walked towards a lone large oak tree, its gnarled trunk a safe haven as she sat against it and opened a book.

Want coiled inside of him and all Cassian could think about was raising Nesta’s hand to his lips and pressing his thanks to her skin. Something primal growled as he fought the urge and Cassian hoped to the Mother that Nesta’s scent had faded from him enough that his mere proximity to her didn't scream to his High Lady, I pleasured your sister until she shattered on my tongue.

For some absurd reason, the thought made Cassian want to bark a laugh. Nesta twisted her head to look up at him and Cassian wondered if she’d felt his amusement with her empath gifts or whether it had tunnelled down the bond.

He didn’t really care. He squeezed her hand.

“It will either continue to ignite any existing hatred of our Court or scare them enough that they will start to see us as a real threat,” Azriel said.

The Shadowsinger had already finished his food and was now standing at his usual spot by the fireplace. Sala sat intently before him, her eyes tracking his shadows as they wreathed about his body. It was almost as if the manticore was hoping he would send out a tendril for her to play with.

Cassian felt like telling the manticore that Azriel was all about hard work and very little play. But it was that work ethic and the Illyrian spies his brother had in place across the clan territories that had ensured that word had got out about what had happened in Ironcrest. Rhys had been adamant that condemning the Ironcrest royalty right off the bat might spark Kallon into action before they were ready. They still needed to find out where Kallon was, whether he’d managed to get the sword to work, and why he had needed the girls blood. Cassian was sure it was dark magic intended to revive the blade, but until they knew for certain… They needed answers and they needed them fast.

So, the leaked information had been selective—devoid of details about the sword and the pit of blood—but the bare bones had been enough to spark intrigue; each retelling whispered of Nesta Archeron, the witch of the Eastern Steppes and their manticores. Of clipped girls kept in cages and rebellion sentries killed for their crimes by a member of the High Fae who did not treat the Illyrians as lesser.

As Azriel had assured Nesta a few days prior when he’d visited for dinner; Stories that thrive on the grapevine have a tendency to wreak more havoc than the complete truth.

The key was to use the power of rumour to slowly unravel the success of the rebellion’s cause amongst the Illyrian people. If Kallon was relying on the females to sway any future referendum for an independent nation, the Night Court would reveal their despicable actions and hope that it would be enough to show the females of Illyria that the rebellion would only result in continued subordination and abuse.

“I am keen to side with the latter,” Rhys said lightly, as he picked a piece of invisible lint off his already immaculate shirt. “This is the first true reaction they have seen from us. It reasserts our authority above petty threats.”

“And it helps,” Azriel continued coldly, “that the rebellion sentries lost their lives. It eliminates further problems down the line.”

“Had the Blood Rite gone ahead, I did initially suggest that we should have allowed some of them to get caught up in the casualties,” Rhys mused.

“We can’t kill every Illyrian that stands against us,” Cassian snapped, his temper rising, even though he knew Rhys had never been serious about messing with the Rite. “That makes us the evil ones in the scenario. It sparks further rebellion later down the line when we squash down every fly that strays onto our path.”

“That may well be true,” Rhys reflected, “but Nesta has certainly done us a favour by ruling some of them out of the equation. Either way, going to all of the camps today is the start of something new—something better.” He turned to Nesta. “You’re ready?”

Nesta had been silent during the meal but to Cassian’s delight, she had cleared all of the food on her plate. Even so, her fingers tightened around his, her knuckles turning white as she rose up tall and lifted that regal chin. “Yes.”

To everyone’s surprise, the Shadowsinger let a faint, reassuring smile grace his mouth, as if he saw through Nesta’s indifferent mask. “It will reassert authority,” he reassured Nesta quietly, his voice as smooth as midnight.

Cassian relaxed slightly at his brother’s words. Nesta liked Azriel and he was the least likely person she would snap at. Sometimes that understanding consumed Cassian with a bitter jealousy that he couldn’t shake, that territorial part of him raging that Nesta would sooner listen to his friend over him, but now… it was needed, and it was useful.

He also knew that he wouldn’t give up their shared fire for anything.

Rhys nodded in agreement. “My Inner Court works on choice,” Rhys told Nesta. “You can help Mor relocate the girls this afternoon if you’d prefer or you can come to each of the camps with us.”

It was an olive branch and one Rhys meant, even if it scuppered his brother’s plan to reassert that Nesta was not someone to be messed with: a benevolent yet wrathful queen that would defend and protect those who needed it the most.

Nesta shook her head, but Cassian felt her inner turmoil in his stomach, the sensation deep and wounding. So he stood, helping her rise to her feet, their hands still entwined. He cocked an arrogant, lazy eyebrow and allowed a grin to spread across his face as he gave in to temptation and kissed the back of her hand, as if she were royalty and he a lowly pauper. “I think you’ll terrify them, witch,” he drawled, and Cassian didn’t have to observe anyone in the room to witness their surprise as Nesta’s lips twitched up into a small, true smile—a smile she saved for Mas and Roksana and him.

“You don’t have to do anything, Nesta,” Feyre said thickly, her hand coming to rest gingerly on Nesta’s arm as she also stood from the couch. She was no doubt thinking of the image Cassian had accidentally let slip the day before when Rhys had asked Nesta to share her memory of the cave. He had been so terrified of Nesta reliving the previous day’s trauma that the ring of fire around his mind had slipped.

It had been too late to fumble after the images that had tumbled through the exposed cracks of his mental shields; Nesta’s haunted blood-streaked face and that dead look behind her eyes as he desperately cupped a palm to her cheek in the bathroom—as he tried to get her to engage with him.

Feyre had looked as if she had been hit in the stomach—had looked physically ill—and even Rhys’ violet eyes had flicked to Cassian’s for a second, his dark eyebrows raising imperceptibly before Nesta had allowed him into her mind.

And that memory…

Even now, the thought of it made Cassian want to shatter things. They had all witnessed Nesta’s sheer panic as that male had pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the ground. Had all seen the boy’s cruel face that had pushed to the forefront of Nesta’s mind when it had happened—a face that Cassian was certain was that human piece of filth. But then Cassian’s pyrite had exploded with power, the ruby light throwing the male off of her just in time for Nesta to scramble to her feet and thrust that sword through his groin.

“You’re involved in this either way,” Rhys told Nesta from his position across the couch, puling Cassian abruptly from his thoughts. Silver flames from their position in the hearth danced in his brother’s star-flecked irises. “What you displayed was an incredible amount of power that they will fear. You need to remind them of that.”

___

When Nesta emerged from her bedroom in full leathers with a bow slung across her back, Cassian thought he might self-combust.

The leathers were a gift from Rhys and rather than being made up of the usual black, the scales were lined with a smoky silver that shimmered and danced. The effect was both sublime and unnerving; the whispering silver a promise of the danger that could be wrought from Nesta’s fingers should anyone cross her.

Clamping down hard on the arousal that smacked him in the face, Cassian quickly looked away, only to find Azriel observing him with a sly grin.

“Ditch the bow,” Rhys ordered.

Nesta bristled. “But—”

“No.” Cassian’s words were a deathly snarl that were forced between gritted teeth. Besides the lunacy of asking Nesta to go into the camps unarmed, Rhys’s tone was not the way to deal with Nesta—it was not the way to speak to his mate.

Feyre whirled on Rhys. “You can’t be serious?”

Rhys’s violet eyes did not move from Nesta’s, nor did his expression turn neutral as he spoke to Feyre mind-to-mind. “You’re powerful enough without it,” Rhys told Nesta simply when he was done explaining to his mate. “That’s the message you want to send. You have your own magic and you have a manticore at your side.”

Cassian clenched his fists as Nesta removed the new bow Lorrian had gifted her a few days prior. The bow she had taken to wearing almost everywhere.

“At least take a dagger,” Cassian ground out, striding towards Nesta and unsheathing one of the knives at his thigh in one fluid movement.

Mother above, the thought of Nesta with no weapon made him want to vomit.

But Nesta shook her head. “I’ve got one,” she told him as she buried her fingers into Sala’s ruff and took Rhys’s outstretched hand.

Her lips twitched as Cassian scoured her body in vein. He was so close to her that he could almost taste her skin, but he ignored the heady rush and crossed his arms firmly over his chest. He stared down at her and demanded, “Where?”

A taunting eyebrow lifted as Nesta replied coolly, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Cassian couldn’t help it. He laughed—the sound loud and booming and true.  “At least tell me you’re wearing —“ he started, needing to know she was wearing the pyrite. That if some shit went down and he couldn’t reach her, if her magic failed, then he could protect her like he had that day at the cave.

Metallic blue shimmered in Nesta’s irises—her power writhing beneath the surface. The sight of it was a relief and Cassian wondered if Nesta had known that. If she had summoned it so she could assure him that she had her own arsenal of weapons. “I haven’t taken it off.”

Fine. Good.

“Now, now children.”

Feyre’s teasing voice filtered into Cassian’s ears and then her slim fingers were wrapping around his hand.

But Cassian did not break his gaze from Nesta, watched the fire dancing amusement in her eyes until Feyre folded him into nothing.

___  

Ironcrest was just as they had left it; beautiful yet punishing, the strong wind a slap to the face as they winnowed directly into the roughly hewn market square located in the centre of the valley. To the left of them the sparring rings rose like teetering, grass-topped towers and to the right, the cliff face layered with the nobility’s residences staggered their way up into the clouds.

It had been decided that the royalty across the camps would not be granted a visit prior to the clippings. The Night Court would not bow to the Illyrians haughty sense of authority. Instead, the Illyrians would be reminded that it was they who were subject to its Court’s wrath should they not abide by law.

For the brief second it took for them to materialise into the camp, Cassian witnessed the awe alight across Feyre’s face—the painter in her no doubt drinking in the beauty around her—before her expression turning into the stony mask of a High Lady unimpressed with the brutal actions of her people.

Beside them, Nesta, Rhys and Sala appeared in a glitter of midnight. Seconds later, Azriel stepped out of the shadows with Alaksander beside him, the bastard bound in ropes of cobalt light. The Illyrian’s face was full of such stark fear and apprehension that Cassian knew he’d be begging when he learnt that his penalty was far worse than death.

Aside from the howling wind, the activity in the camp seemed to pause at their arrival, as if it was waiting with bated breath. Crowds had already formed in the square around a circular wooden platform that had been built around the middle of a stone fountain.

The fountain itself was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful structures in the camp. Water flowered downwards into multiple stone basins that grew in size until they met the wide reservoir at the base, which was obscured by the wooden scaffolding. At the very pinnacle of the fountain, two stone warriors rose towards the sky—Enalius and Oya—who sported crowns. Rather than being inlaid with jewels, the crowns were set with two angled stars that lay atop the front and were tied together by a circular ribbon that ran through their middle—pareho. 

At the base of the fountain, hidden by the platform, Cassian knew lion faces were carved into the stone—beasts ready to fight beside their chosen companions in the battle against evil.

“Here we go,” Cassian muttered under his breath to Feyre as he spotted the all too familiar figure of Lord Rufous—Ironcrest’s senior war-lord—stalking towards them across the wide circular platform.

Cassian turned to Nesta, ready to prompt her should she forget their plan, but she and Sala were already moving—Nesta an unwavering, lethal Queen as she floated towards the steps that would lead them up onto the raised planks.

Sala slunk by her side, her silver tail flicking dangerously, her sharp fangs visible and pointed beneath her muzzle, and Illyrians stepped back warily to create an unobstructed path. Some jumped out of Nesta’s way, their eyes wide and scared as they discovered that the rumour of the manticore was grounded on truth. But a few of the females dropped to their knees and bowed to the earth. A handful of them even dared to reach out and brush Nesta’s arm, as if they wanted living proof that she was not a mirage.

Cassian tried not to bristle—tried not to snarl and launch himself towards her and unsheathe his sword in the same motion. A slow, steadying breath allowed his head to clear as he reminded himself that Nesta could protect herself. That she was strong and fierce and brave and that she did not need him to step in and fight her battles for her. So Cassian watched Azriel stride after her, his hand gripping Alaksander’s arm as he led the restrained male towards the stage. Feyre and Rhys filed in behind them, their magic trailing an invisible yet somehow detectable path behind them like a royal cloak, and Cassian took up the rear, his hand casually resting on his sword as he stalked after them, his expression as hard and unyielding as granite.

When Nesta slowly ascended onto the platform, Lord Rufous faltered. And Nesta—Nesta—smiled at him, the movement cruel and twisting and terrifying. And in that moment, every single rumour that had spread through the camp like wildfire lit as a threat in her eyes.

Those dark beady eyes fell to Nesta’s fingers, where embers sparked with the promise of flame, and Rufous stilled, seemingly frozen to the spot. Even the males beside him halted, although their expressions remained cruel and calculating.

“She killed Ironcrest warriors,” Lord Rufous snarled when he finally found his voice. “That witch is not permitted on our lands.”

Cassian snarled right back, the sound a low, territorial warning in his throat as he bared his teeth at the war-lord. Rhys scraped a nail down Cassian’s mental shield but he ignored it. They both knew he couldn’t help it. “Then the Ironcrest nobility should have ensured that girls were not caged and slaughtered like animals.”

“Where is Lord Marsh,” Rhys cut in smoothly, before Cassian could royally fuck something up. “I called for his presence today.”

“He and his wife are indisposed,” Rufous sneered. “As is his son.”

“And pray tell me, where has Prince Kallon scarpered off to?” Rhys asked with a light deliberation that should have set alarm bells clanging through Rufous’s thick skull.

“He has business with the warriors in the north of our territory,” Rufous replied coldly, but the male’s onyx eyes slid warily to Sala as the beast pinned him with a glare that sung death.

“How interesting,” Rhys mused, as he picked off an imaginary piece of lint from the exquisitely tailored shirt that was lined with silver thread—starlight shimmering in a night sky. “And here I was thinking that Princeling Kallon abandoned his territory and his people after our recent findings.”

Rufous’s lip curled but he did not retaliate. Instead, his gaze slid to Alaksander who looked as if he might have fainted if it were not for the Shadowsinger holding him up. “He’s not one of ours,” Rufous sneered.

“He was on your territory with many other males who belonged to your camp,” Rhys responded calmly, but this time his voice was laced with the dark sort of promise that should have finally made Lord Rufous take stock of who exactly he was speaking with. “And he will receive a punishment that is fit for his crime.”

“Is that why we’ve all been called here then?” Rufous asked. “To witness a killing of a bastard who has no relevance to our camp? We do not control the filth that comes out of Windhaven. We can’t help it if those savages clip their females.”

“If the Illyrians in Windhaven are savages, then I do not know what to call the males in your camp,” Nesta said, her voice brimming with a fervour that burned like ice. “How many females have been mutilated here? How many girls? It is a sin what has been allowed to happen here.”

Lord Rufous was slowly turning purple with rage—no doubt at having been spoken to with such derision by a female—but he remained where he was, his darting glances between Sala and the fire burning at Nesta’s palms enough to keep him stationed in place.

“I do not believe that I need to remind you or the Illyrians here in Ironcrest that clipping has been against the law for centuries,” Rhys began coldly before Lord Rufous could open his mouth to form a retort. His voice was suddenly ringing out across the crowds, his magic amplifying the sound. “As Lady Nesta has pointed out, I have it under good authority that many of the females in this camp have been mutilated, so I would not take it upon yourself to lie to both your High Lord and Lady that this is a one off occurrence when I can see for myself that it is not the case.”

Rhys nodded to the bodies of Illyrians who had gathered around the fountain—at the females who had turned up not only to witness a public visit from their High Lord and Lady, but to see the High Fae who had protected their gender at the potential cost of her own life.

A sharp click of Rhys’s fingers summoned a rickety looking stool that appeared out of thin air. “Sit, observe and do not speak,” Rhys ordered with another snap of his fingers and a deliberate pointed finger.

For a moment, Rufous looked as if he was going to object, but then Sala prowled forward. The manticore’s ears lay flat against the back of her head and her nose wrinkled as her lip curled into a cruel smile, baring her lethally sharp incisors.

The blood that had threatened to turn the war-lord the colour of beetroot drained so quickly that Cassian thought it was a wonder that he didn’t faint. Sala slowly encourages Rufous and his warriors to step backwards until the war-lord’s legs bumped against the stool. There was a moments pause and then, when Rufous failed to sit down, Sala let out an ear-deafening roar. Spittle flew onto the war-lords leathers and the male jumped out of his skin, his backside hitting the seat with an audible thump.

The males at Rufous’s side leapt to unsheathe their weapons, only to find that they were stuck in their scabbards.

Feyre raised her chin. “We won’t be using those. If anyone so much as dares to touch their weapons you will receive the same punishment as this traitor.” She jerked her head towards Alaksander whose knees were all but knocking together.

“Well said, darling,” Rhys purred, bringing his mate’s hand to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of her palm.

And then together they turned back towards the crowd.

___ 

Alaksander had begged when Nesta had cut his wings. Had fallen to his knees and begged as Nesta floated over to him, her irises misting silver.

“You were part of a group of males who raped and mutilated young girls,” Nesta had told him in a voice that had bordered on ethereal. “As punishment, you will never taste the skies again.”

That fated forefinger finger had risen and at the tip, a single silver flame had burned so hot Cassian could sense the molten heat of her magic from where he had stood flanking his High Lord and Lady. And somehow Cassian knew that the hoards of Illyrians that had gathered could sense it to—the immense power of the eldest Archeron sister who had been gifted with the magic to protect and defend.

Alaksander had started to sob, the sound cracking around the market square in such a broken way that Cassian was surprised the male’s ribs did not splinter. He tried to tuck in his wings but Azriel made him turn so his back and wings faced the crowd.

The male had tried in vein to keep his wings tucked in tight, but Rhys had lifted a hand and slowly, painstakingly, Alaksander’s wings had spread as if an invisible force was pulling them open.

“We do not take pleasure in this,” Rhys informed the many faces that had gathered around them. “We have trusted Illyria to uphold the laws the Night Court have decreed in the past, but they have not been followed. Lest this new law be a lesson to you all.”

“Should any of you clip another's wings then you will pay the same price,” Feyre continued. “We have eyes and ears in every corner of this Court. Do not think because you are far removed from Velaris that we will not catch wind of barbaric acts and that we will not dare to interfere.”

And then, with a nod from her sister, Nesta’s flame had seared through the tendons on either side of the male’s elbow joints. Alaksander had screamed, his back arching as he tried to flinch away from the permanent damage that Nesta had inflicted to his treasured wings.

It was that desperate, broken scream that had sleep eluding Cassian as he lay in bed hours later. His thoughts were too loud, too insistent, and the images his mind conjured were too bright and colourful.

He was worried about Nesta. She had healed Alaksander between trips to the other camps without a word. Had slowly knitted his tendons back together only for her to cut them again as they stood before the next clan. She had not balked. Had only kept that icy, murderous expression across her face that told Cassian she was thinking of every wronged female as she took away Alaksander’s flight.

Even so, Cassian knew Nesta had found no true pleasure in it, only a grim determination that what she was doing was right. And it was something that the crowd had understood, too. Nesta was two sides of a coin: she could protect and destroy and she would indulge in the latter if it meant fighting for the former.

By the time they had arrived at the House of Wind, the exhaustion that came with the day’s events had been stark across Nesta’s face. She had barely registered the food Cassian had made her eat in the dining room as soon as they had arrived, or the way that Sala had placed her head in her companion’s lap. Feyre had summoned the wraiths up to the House, clearly worried herself for her sister’s welfare, and Cassian had watched Azriel’s spies lead Nesta away to her old room in search of a bath and a warm bed with a forlorn expression on his face that had resulted in a quirked eyebrow from Azriel.

When Cassian had checked on Nesta an hour before he retired to bed himself, he’d only spotted the slope of a satin-strapped shoulder and the golden tangle of hair spilled across a pillow beneath the piles of blankets atop the mattress. Sala had lain at Nesta’s feet, her chin between her paws, but the manticore had hopped off the bed when she’d spotted him, rubbing her face against his middle with a loud, rumbling purr.

Letting out a long groan of frustration, Cassian flipped over onto his back in defeat—his mind too busy to grant him the peace that came with sleep. It was well after midnight now, the night sky overcast and muted through the view Cassian was afforded in the gap between the curtains. Occasionally, the cloud coverage would break to reveal a dusting of stars as they glinted softly against the smoky blue of the night sky and a beautiful crescent moon.

A dull pounding began to echo around Cassian’s skull; the result of his continuous efforts to strain towards something that simply would not come. So, when he heard the quiet patter of feet coming from the corridor outside his room, Cassian initially thought it was a new addition to the throbbing in his head. Even so, instinct had him reaching for the knife beneath his pillow. But then the doorknob turned and a soft, buttery wedge of light crept across the floor, illuminating the sweeping outline of Nesta’s curves as she stepped into the room. Sala’s golden eyes glinted as she sloped in behind her companion.

Nesta’s scent hit him moments after that—sleepy jasmine and vanilla. He didn’t sit up. Cassian had learnt to treat Nesta like an easily startled animal when she chose to expose herself. Opting for slow, measured movements was key—or better, no movement at all.

“Ok, sweetheart?” he rasped through the darkness, barely daring to believe he wasn’t dreaming as she leant against the carved oak door. It clicked shut behind her and Cassian pushed the weapon back beneath his pillow.

For a moment, Nesta stood there and Cassian tried not to notice how her nipples had peaked from the cold or how painstakingly beautiful she looked with dishevelled hair and her eyes half-shuttered from sleep.

He clamped down hard on the sudden need that washed over him, imagined sinking his teeth into the meat of it until it squirmed uncomfortably—a beast trapped beneath a paw—as Nesta walked silently across the room. Sala slunk through the shadows too, hopping up onto the bed so she could curl up by Cassian’s feet. But Cassian was too preoccupied with how the mattress dipped as Nesta slid beneath the sheets. At how his heart was beating so hard he knew she must be able to hear it.

She was still too far away—too far, too far, too far away on his stupidly enormous bed—and Cassian resisted every urge that screamed at him to grab her.

Instead, he rolled onto his side. Savoured the sight of her silhouette from the intermittent moonlight that filtered between the billowing amethyst curtains.

“It’s too quiet in my room,” Nesta admitted eventually, her voice hoarse from lack of use. She stared up at the ceiling. “The silence woke me up. I miss the wind.”

Now Cassian’s heart raced for an entirely different reason. “I had Rhys loosen the shield around my room here a long time ago,” Cassian told her, knowing Nesta had already clocked the soft howl of the wind as it whipped around the neighbouring mountain peaks. “Whenever we used to stay here as younglings I could never sleep either. It took me a long while to realise that Rhys could alter the magic for me. He did the same in Azriel’s room.”

Not that Cassian often entered Azriel’s bedchamber. His brother was fiercely private like that.

“Is that why you choose to stay up here rather than in the other houses?” Nesta asked. “So you can live in the sky?”

“Partly,” Cassian admitted with a lift of a shoulder. “I never had reason to set my roots down in Velaris permanently and buy my own place. My home has always been Illyria, even if the bungalow is small.”

Nesta frowned, clearly unconvinced by Cassian’s words. Before the threat of the rebellion, Cassian had spent very little time living at the bungalow, more often than not having one of his friends winnow him to where he needed to be when he was required to oversee a military unit or kick a stubborn war-lord into line.

But she only said quietly—as if it were their secret, “I like the bungalow.” She rolled towards him and as the face of the moon was again cast free of a cloud Cassian finally saw Nesta properly.

“I didn’t think I’d like Illyria but I do,” she confessed.

“I’m glad,” Cassian replied softly. “It’s not for everyone.”

Nesta shrugged. “It’s brutal and cold but it’s…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “Freedom, somehow. I’ve never had a home really, but being there feels right.” A blush graced her cheeks and Cassian wanted to stroke it away with his thumbs as she looked away. “I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“It makes sense,” Cassian replied hoarsely.

Silence draped over them like a blanket. But then Nesta asked, her voice smaller than usual, “Can I stay here? In your room, I mean?”

“I’ve already told you I’d rather sleep with you beside me,” he reminded her, something cracking inside of him at the glimpse of vulnerability she allowed him to see. “Stay whenever you want.”

Nesta stifled a laugh. “You won’t be saying that if you have company.”

“I won’t have company.”

Nesta turned her head to smile into the pillow. “Liar.”

“I’m beyond lies right now, Nesta.” The intensity behind his words didn’t have Nesta physically recoiling but Cassian knew her—knew that she would start to panic. So, he shot her a slow grin. “I wouldn’t be stupid enough to turn away a haughty witch now, would I?”

A huff of breath caressed his cheek. “I didn’t realise you had such common sense.”

Cassian’s laughter sparked him into action, his resolve to keep his hands to himself wavering as he reached for her. And when Nesta moved towards him and melted into his embrace, her back moulding into the hard planes of his body, he almost groaned at the comfort of it—at the knowledge that she wanted to be held by him.

Their legs tangled together and Cassian curved a wing around them, carving out a safe space for the two of them.

Emboldened, Cassian dared to bow his head to the nape of her neck and breathe her in. And even though he had spent the last week desperate to touch and taste her, Cassian found he had never been more content in his life to lie with someone and merely hear them breathe.

Minutes passed and when Cassian shifted slightly to get more comfortable Nesta’s fingers curled around his arm. It was a silent order to stay and Cassian realised they were in the exact same place they had been the other morning, when they had awoken.

They both slept, after that.

Tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @arinbelle @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @iammissstark @lovelynesta @melphss @nestalytical  @darkshadowqueensrule @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @grouchycritic7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @princessconsuela02 @lavendergoomsltd @little-diyosa @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @sjm-things @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @inyourmindeye @amelie775 @iwastoowildinthe70s @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints @wishfulimaginings @trash-for-nessian @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @hatemecozuaintme @vidalinav @onceupona-chaos @inardour @thesunremembersyourface @teagoddess99 @ellies-iced-coffee @simonmqb @misswonderflower nessiantrashh 

[shivugupta01]

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[bonsaiiiiiii]

100 Weird AU's? Yes.

So, I had these AU prompts on my phone for quite a while, and I was actually thinking about using them. And what better way to do it than using them with the Tracy's?

Reading and reading these prompts again (and under the gentle guidance of @willow-salix ) I thought that these prompts doesn't exactly match the brothers' everyday situation, but what if we push it past its limit? Yes, biting more that you can chew can be a little difficult, but I don't think it will be impossible. And that's where this challenge is born!

Get the Tracy's out of International Rescue's bubble and let them live an everyday situation as normal people! They can also be medieval nobles or even futuristic robots, the choice's up to you! You can choose from soo many things others don't even think about (and not even me, for a while)!

Many thanks to @tag2060 for the cover and @willow-salix for the support (both emotional and 'fic-ical'. I love both of you💚

NOTE: THESE PROMPTS AREN'T ALL MINE. I TOOK THEM FROM A GIRL I'M NOT IN CONTACT WITH ANYMORE, BUT I WAS TOLD I COULD USE THEM. ALL CREDITS FOR THESE AU'S GO TO HER, WHATEVER IS HER NAME (lmao). THE GOLD MARKED ONES (7, 11, 20, 23, 39, 47, 63, 64, 70, 83, 89, 91, 93, 96, 100) ARE ALL MINE, IN SUBSITUTION OF A FEW THAT WERE THERE, SO CREDIT FOR THE GOLDEN MARKED ONES GOES TO ME, BUT NOT EVERY ONE OF THEM.

NOTE²: SOME OF THE PROMPTS CONTAIN STRONG THEMES, LIKE DEPRESSION AND SEXUAL CONTENT. IF YOU'RE SENSIBLE TO THESE THEMES, DON'T DO THEM, NOBODY FORCES YOU IF YOU DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

To participate in this challenge, all you have to do is take one of the AU prompts from the list, one or more (or all) Tracy characters, and post your fic (can be a ficlet, or a series) under the tag #100weirdTracys and #100weirdAUs.

If you don't want to participate, please don't harass/bully me. I made this challenge just for fun, and I don't want for it to feel like something bad. In fact, I don't even regret doing this thing, even if it's strange.

Ah, I almost forgot: this challenge will be over in December, so you have 4 months to choose a prompt and make a fic about it. On December I'll review all the fics, but I'll always be reblogging and reading during these 4 months lol.

If you want to tell me something, hit me up on DM's! I hope you have fun with those prompts and those bois!

(づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ

TO RESUME:

• Swearing is allowed.

• You can write as many words as you want!

• Oc's and muses can pop in too!

• Make sure to tag your fic(s) under the '#100weirdTracys' and '#100weirdAUs' tags, so that I can find them easily.

• Always tag or contact me if you need help with anything! I'll be more than glad to help you!

• If you decide to do the mature prompts (19, 90, just to state an example) please refrain from using a too mature language and don't go further than making up. I don't like that kind of language, so it would be peachy to just avoid writing so they make wild sex behind a bush. Any kind of very mature fic or language won't be read by me, I'm sorry. You can still use those prompts, but don't work their bed life too much.

• Any dialect or first language apart from english is more than welcome in this yard! I would love even to read snippets of foreign language in fics, as long as there's a translation near it, but you're not forced to write in another language. If you don't feel comfortable doing it just don't do it, even if I'm telling you. (For the record, I love Irish so much I could listen to a person speaking this language for hours and you won't hear me complaining).

• I will accept this challenge in whatever form it takes, be it a fic, a drawing, a song, etc. I’m open to anything and I watch everything that comes before me!

φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)__φ(．．)

That said, you can find the prompts down here:⬇️

 #1 I saved you from drowning!AU

#2 I broke into your house at two in the morning because I was drunk and I thought it was my house!AU

#3 I am a door-to-door seller please buy something!AU

#4 I grabbed the wrong luggage at the airport!AU

#5 I know we hate each other, but a wedding would be more convenient for both of us!AU

#6 I accidentally poured you a love potion!AU

#7 I sent you 12 messages but you left me on read!AU

#8 I am your secret admirer and I leave you anonymous cards!AU

#9 Sorry, but I was first in line!AU

#10 We don’t know each other but let's pretend to be together because someone is bothering me!AU

#11 We pack up to do a funny trip but we end up in Bolivia without fuel!AU

#12 Locked in quarantine and we're bored! AU

#13 I do everything to find out the identity of this superhero and you try to mislead me because it’s really you!AU

#14 I got into a taxi just to find out it was already occupied!AU

#15 I called the wrong number!AU

#16 I got into the wrong car OMG I'm ashamed, but while you’re there why don’t you give me a ride!AU

#17 I found a wallet and my business is to find the owner and return it!AU

#18 I am a street artist and you complain that I play in front of your house at night!AU

#19 I caught you watching porn!AU

#20 We're two strangers that start chatting while waiting for the bus!AU

#21 Nosy and sloppy roommates!AU

#22 Old childhood friends who come back after years!AU

#23 I got shot to the arm/leg but you're there to save me and OMG ILY!AU

#24 We’re sitting next to each other on a plane and please don’t throw up on me!AU

#25 We accidentally switched phones!AU

#26 We are both contestants in a reality show and let's pretend to be together because the audience will ship us!AU

#27 I am a wedding planner and my ex’s wedding had to happen to me!AU

#28 I learned sign language to communicate with you!AU

#29 Professional model and novice photographer!AU

#30 Sorry I ran you over!AU

#31 We make out and then I find out that you are my roommate’s boyfriend!AU

#32 I’m quoting aloud the last book of a series and I’m spoiling you!AU

#33 It is a universally acknowledged truth that a bachelor with a large fortune must be looking for a wife!AU

#34 I am a Partisan and you are a fascist!AU(Italy during World War II!AU)

#35 I am the blood of the dragon!AU (Iron Throne!AU)

#36 Your dog is hitting on mine!AU

#37 I’m depressed and I decide to call a hotline!AU

#38 You are my soulmate but I am in love with someone else!AU

#39 Strange encounter at tattoo shop!AU

#40 On my mark, unleash hell!AU(Roman Empire!AU)

#41 I am an Elf, don’t look at me for ears I am ashamed of!AU(The Lord of the Rings!AU)

#42 Maybe my life should be more than just survival!AU(The 100!AU)

#43 I am an activist and I am trying to convert you to the cause!AU

#44 We are occupying the school but you are a spoilsport!AU

#45 All our friends are drunk and we're not!AU

#46 We’ve been together for three months and now you’re telling me you’re a werewolf!AU

#47 X has to go into a rocket to the moon and Y has to train X!

#48 Knight in shining armor and damsel in distress!AU

#49 We reluctantly team up against the zombie apocalypse!AU

#50 I’m a vampire and your smell is driving me nuts!AU(Twilight!AU)

#51 Monsters have attacked the Earth and the only way to save humanity is aboard giant robots piloted by two people who must maintain a mental union!AU(Pacific Rim!AU)

#52 My timer stopped as soon as I saw you!AU(Soulmate!AU)

#53 I need a lawyer and you are the best!AU

#54 I’m a Viking and I plundered your ship!AU

#55 I’m a classic dandy from the Regency Age and you’re just a silly girl from the lower middle class!AU

#56 I’m a policeman and you’re an intrusive journalist and I really shouldn’t give you any information about the new murder!AU

#57 You are a wannabe actress and I am a theatrical director who is losing patience and health!AU

#58 Due to a computer error, X and Y become college roommates!AU

#59 X wants to see the world of Y, how he lives and what he usually does, and ends up spending a night in prison!AU

#60 I attend the yoga course just to watch how flexible the instructor is!AU

#61 I am a bounty hunter and you are my prey!AU

#62 I am a secret spy and pretend to be your friend only to get information about your father!AU

#63 I discuss with you about a thing but you have in mind another!AU

#64 We are forced to be best friends just because our moms were best friends too but you're too bossy for me!AU

#65 We broke up but I never changed emergency contacts and now I’m in the hospital and they called you!AU

#66 I am an angel and you are a demon!AU

#67 I hit you on the balls during a game of paintball and oh my god I am so sorry!AU

#68 We live in a dystopian world where your partner is chosen by society!AU(Matched!AU)

#69 I’m a dragon trainer I’ll prove to you that they are peaceful creatures!AU(Dragon Trainer!AU)

#70 Date at japanese restaurant!AU

#71 You’re a cheerleader and I’m a punk and we live in two different worlds!AU

#72 I was a zombie and I was "re-animated" but you treat me like I’m still a monster!AU(In the Flesh!AU)

#73 I am your son’s teacher and I am calling to talk to you about his conduct, would he also come to dinner with me!AU

#74 I am an Achaean warrior and you Trojan and we are fighting the Trojan War!AU

#75 I met my asshole boss at the bar but I found out he’s pretty cool!AU

#76 It was not my intention to touch your ass, it’s just that the bus is crowded, it’s not my fault ok!AU

#77 I went fishing and accidentally fished a mermaid!AU

#78 I just committed a crime and I need to use you as a hostage!AU

#79 You’re the bastard who always parks in front of my door and in spite I’ll scratch your car!AU

#80 I accidentally went back in time and fell in love with you, too bad you’re a barbarian!AU

#81 I urgently need you to fix my computer but please don’t judge me for my chronology!AU

#82 I work on the cruise ship where you are spending your holidays!AU

#83 I'm out in the rainstorm without an umbrella because the weather forecast was sunny!AU

#84 I hugged the wrong person from behind!AU

#85 Celebrity on the run and ordinary citizen confused!AU

#86 Stuck in a ranch cleaning horse poop but it doesn’t matter because that cowboy is a badass!AU

#87 We got married in Vegas, but we’re total strangers!AU

#88 But, officer, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I was just smoking a joint, want a hit!AU

#89 X is an astronaut and Y is a weird but funny alien that likes to scream, overreact and laugh!AU

#90 I slept with you for a bet but I loved it and I’d like to keep seeing you!AU

#91 I reveal to some friends that you wear boxers/underwear with green aliens on them but you're behind me and oh gosh total shame!AU

#92 Oops I accidentally entered a busy dressing room!AU

#93 You're a stranger but I keep crossing paths with you and I'm kinda confused right now!AU

#94 X is a medium and Y a ghost!AU

#95 X is a guardian angel and Y wants to die!AU

#96 X accidentally enters in a cat and Y has to rescue it from up a tree!AU

#97 X risks losing the house because Y’s company wants to buy the land!AU

#98 I’m an artist and I need a model do you want to pose for me!AU

#99 I’m not really sick but the new doctor is so beautiful that I found out I have a disease with an unpronounceable name!AU

#100 A strange job application!AU

φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)__φ(．．)

If you find them more practical, I also have some photos down here with all the prompts organized:⬇️

That said, enjoy! Hope it brings you joy and makes you happy while you do it!💙💚🧡💛❤💜💖🖤

[lady-of-the-lotus]

Fractured Ice - Ch. 2/7

“Xiao Xingchen,” says Lan Xichen, trying to infuse his voice with as much of his old gentleness as he can, “there is no contacting this man’s spirit.”

“Try again!”

“Daozhang—”

Xiao Xingchen is on his feet. “Try again!”

Relationships: XueXiao & XiYao - Rated M

Read on AO3!  Tumblr: Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Ch. 2 - I’m well acquainted with villains that live in my head

Lan Xichen is alone when he wakes, pierced by a headache that could stun a tiger.

His body is heavy and sluggish, but his mind races from the moment he opens his eyes.

Last night. Last night he—

The things he had said! To someone he’d known three months! Things he'd only told—

Told A-Yao.

“A-Yao,” he says out loud.

It’s been almost a year since he’s heard himself speak that once-familiar name fully out loud, and it’s like stabbing himself in the chest.

“A-Yao,” he says again, more firmly this time.

Another stab, but he survives it. Survives the pain. Sits up, washes his face in the basin. Gets out of bed. Allows a servant to shave him. Takes medicine for the headache. Drinks some tea.

A-Yao.

Something has changed, but he’s not sure what.

He’s more alert than usual at the daily status meeting, and when he asks a question about the upcoming tax conference, Lan Qiren shoots him a surprised look.

Pleased? Displeased? Lan Xichen can’t tell, but finds he doesn’t care. He feels more grounded than he has of late, almost completely certain that he’s awake.

He remains behind to meet with Lan Qiren privately.

“About that matchmaker,” he starts, opening the discussion in the middle of a conversation, exactly the way he’s been taught not to. “I won’t be needing her.”

It’s almost pitiful, the spark of hope he sees in his uncle’s eyes. He crushes it before the Grand Master can ask any awkward questions about whether he’s found a wife on his own.

“I won’t be getting married.”

Lan Qiren stares blankly at him.

“I won’t be getting married,” he repeats, louder. The words sound foreign, as if his words are in a language he once knew but has since forgotten. He repeats them one more time, just to be sure he is in fact speaking Chinese.

“I heard you!” Lan Qiren’s face is bright red. “What do you mean by this?”

Lan Xichen is on his feet, as if the gently expanding air in his chest has floated him upright. “I mean that you need to look for a wife of your own, Uncle,” he says, bowing deeply.

“Such insolence!” Lan Qiren has quite a temper for someone who is supposed to be a paragon of virtue. Hypocrite, something deep inside Lan Xichen hisses. “What do you mean by this?”

Lan Xichen feels like he’s hovering several inches off the floor. “That Uncle needs to meet with the matchmaker and let her know what he is looking for in a wife.”

Lan Qiren is on his feet too, fists clenched. “You have a duty to the Lan—”

“ ‘Do not argue with your family, for it doesn’t matter who wins.’ ”

“Stop talking!”

“ ‘Be easy on others.’ ‘To lose one’s temper is to lose one’s self.’ ‘Equanimity in all th—’ ”

“Get out!” Lan Qiren is gripping his inkwell as if getting ready to throw it, ruin Lan Xichen’s beautiful blue robes. “Get out this instant!”

Lan Xichen half-floats from the room. Spends the rest of the day playing Liebing until his fingers cramp up. There’s something inside him that he’s trying to get rid of, though he doesn’t know what it is, or how to expel it from his body.

Joy? He’s suffused by an odd sense of glowiness. Is that it? It seems to be coming from outside him, entering him, being magnified inside his chest and radiating back outward.

He’s been lying in bed for an hour that night when he suddenly leaves his chambers to rouse the very surprised sword instructor, urging her out to the training ground so he can spar for the first time in months.

He retires to his room sweaty and panting and feeling as if he might be halfway there—hallway where he doesn’t know—but first thing in the morning Uncle is there, wearing the same look he’d worn when finding him sleeping naked in the grass, chilling him, and suddenly Lan Xichen is having green tea gently pushed on him and he’s being bundled off to the library to sit and quietly paint—something he used to enjoy—while a disciple plays soothing music for him.

He shoos the disciple out around noon. As if waiting for this, Xiao Xingchen ducks into the library soon after, bows at Lan Xichen, and settles himself down across from him.

“What are they saying?” Lan Xichen asks without looking up from his brush.

“Gusu Lan is the most rumor-proof clan I’ve ever been to,” says Xiao Xingchen. Lan Xichen can’t tell if he’s being tactful or if he’s telling the truth, that Lan Xichen’s frantic midnight sparring match isn’t common knowledge. “I didn’t see Zewu-jun yesterday, and wanted to make sure he was all right after the other night.”

Lan Xichen feels his old half-smile back on his face. He’s not sure if it’s fake or not. “He is all right. More than all right. And I think much of it is thanks to you.”

Xiao Xingchen ducks his head, granting Lan Xichen a smile of his own. “An honor, then. May I ask what I said?”

“Many things were said.” Lan Xichen glances down at Xiao Xingchen’s hand. “How is your arm? I would love to spar with one of your famed skill someday.” All day he’s been itching to get back out there with his sword, but Shuoyue was missing from its usual spot beside the bed that morning—taken to be sharpened, the servant said.

Sharpened. Of course.

Xiao Xingchen touches his hand bandages almost unconsciously. They’re not as bulky as they used to be, but the hand is still fully covered in thin white strips. Rumor has it that he’s self-conscious about his injury, not even letting the physicians near it. “I don’t think I’m quite ready for that, Zewu-jun.”

“Was the wound truly that terrible?” Normally, Lan Xichen would never ask such a personal question, but he feels like he can to Xiao Xingchen.

There’s something new in Xiao Xingchen’s eyes. “Far worse than Zewu-jun can imagine,” he says. He smiles again, with his teeth this time. Then the smile winks out and reappears, soft and toothless.

“Will you be able to use it again someday?”

Xiao Xingchen’s eyes drop. “I wanted to speak to you about that, actually. I was wondering if perhaps there was a remedy in the secret library of yours.”

He drops this so casually that it takes Lan Xichen a moment to register what he said. “Secret library?”

Xiao Xingchen nods. “I know it survived the Wen’s fire. I know it exists.”

“…How do you know?”

Xiao Xingchen smiles again. Again no teeth this time. “Perhaps Gusu Lan isn’t so rumor-proof, after all. To be quite honest, I wasn’t sure it existed at all. I’ve spent years trying to heal my hand, and nobody has been able to give me anything but false hope.”

“Is it paralyzed?”

“It’s gone,” says Xiao Xingchen. “Gone, but still here, and I need it back.” He touches his left sleeve, as if not wanting to touch the bandages themselves. “And I will get it back.”

“I have some experience with medicine. Perhaps if you showed me your hand, I can look through the medical texts—”

“No! I mean—” He ducks his head. “I thank you, Zewu-jun, but…” Xiao Xingchen’s eyes drop again. “I can’t show it to anyone.”

“Injury is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed!”

“If I can help—”

Xiao Xingchen is on his feet. “I’ll take my leave, then.”

“Please understand, only Family and clan elders are allowed into the Forbidden Chamber—”

“I understand perfectly.” Xiao Xingchen seems to be struggling with himself, as if fighting to keep a grip on his temper. A surprise, all this. Lan Xichen could have sworn the gentle, pleasant rogue cultivator hadn’t a temper at all. “Outsiders be damned, am I right?”

Rule 14: Foul language is strictly prohibited.

Lan Xichen suddenly remembers Su She’s words in Guanyin Temple. Remembers the Wen invasion of the Cloud Recesses, the outside disciples being left out in the open to die while the inside disciples sheltered in the Cold Pond Cave.

Su She had been a murderer, and misguided, but he hadn’t been wrong.

A sudden surge of emotion buffets Lan Xichen at the memory of Su She’s denunciation. It’s been so long since he’s felt anything so intense outside a panic attack. It’s fear, but a fresh fear, the fear of Xiao Xingchen taking umbrage and leaving Cloud Recesses forever.

“If there is anything else I can possibly do to, daozhang—”

Xiao Xingchen eyes him evenly, tilting his head, then relaxes his shoulders and reaches up to toy with the long tendrils of hair framing his face.

“I heard that Zewu-jun was practicing his flute again,” he says. “I was glad to hear it.”

Lan Xichen gives a small nod, forcing a smile onto his face, hoping that Xiao Xingchen sees it, sees how sorry he is that he can’t allow him into the Forbidden Chamber.

“Have you taken up your guqin again as well?”

Lan Xichen’s hands tremble so hard that he completely ruins the tree he’s painting, the brush wobbling off the side of the paper and onto the table.

“I’ll take that as a no, then.” Xiao Xingchen gets back down on his knees across from him. “A shame.”

“Rules 32 and 27; I know.” The large blue-and-white banners emblazoned with the Lan rules hang all around him, with Rule 32—Maintain your own discipline—directly behind the rogue cultivator.

“No, I don’t care about any of that discipline and training the mind and body business. I mean because of this.” A shower of orange qiankun sparks above Xiao Xingchen’s left forearm, and suddenly there’s a brown pouch in the young man’s hand.

“Do you know what this is, Zewu-jun?”

Spirit-trapping pouches are nothing unusual, but Lan Xichen instinctively knows these are the kind that can capture and transport a person’s entire spirit, not just the faint whispers left behind by ghosts. He’s heard of them, but never seen one. Baoshan Sanren took the secret of making new ones with her to the mountain, and there are only a handful left in the world.

“One of my master’s spirit-trapping pouches,” says Xiao Xingchen slowly, as if relishing the drama of it all. He sets it down on the table, keeping his hand on it as if afraid to let it out of his grasp. “Inside this bag, Zewu-jun, is the man who can heal my hand.”

“And you want me to communicate with him?”

“Zewu-jun is the foremost cultivator of his generation. I believe he can succeed where others have failed.”

“Failed how?”

“Empathy, for one. They’ve all told me there’s not enough left of his spirit to communicate with. Frauds! Liars! They—” Xiao Xingchen breaks off, gets himself under control with difficulty, and shoves a fixed smile on his face. “They failed. Everything for the past seven years has failed. But Inquiry…nobody I’ve met has been skilled enough. Only the direct Lan family members are taught the technique, I have heard.”

A subtle accusation: Only the inner circle. Only those deemed important enough to have such a valuable tool in their arsenal. To hell with the rest.

“Why did you not ask my brother?”

“I met him but briefly, and had no wish to extend our acquaintance.”

Lan Xichen frowns, and Xiao Xingchen hastens to add, “Frankly I found him rather intimidating. The man is a living legend. I couldn’t ask the Chief Cultivator to help me with my petty problems.”

“I can try,” says Lan Xichen. A part of him is afraid that this is the sole reason Xiao Xingchen befriended him. Then he remembers how he, Lan Xichen, was the one to bring up the hand and offer his help. How Xiao Xingchen had taken care of him the other night. Of all their walks—

And yet—

Was this all he had wanted from him from the beginning?

No. This is his paranoia speaking again.

Xiao Xingchen smiles, a genuine smile this time. “When?”

“We can…tonight, I suppose.”

“Where?”

“My mother’s house.” He had taken him there once, to see the crane. Ridiculous, in hindsight, to take someone all that way just to see a crane that may or may not have been there at the exact moment of their arrival, but that crane had been his sole company for—for however long he’d lived in his mother’s home, and it had been there, and Xiao Xingchen had appreciated it, so… “Two hours after curfew.”

“All right, then.” Xiao Xingchen doesn’t look overly grateful, something Lan Xichen appreciates for reasons he doesn’t quite understand. “Enough of that, then. Have you eaten today?”

“I had tea.”

Xiao Xingchen sighs, shaking his head. “On your feet, Zewu-jun. I’m taking you to Caiyi Town for a proper meal.”

“There is plenty of food here in the Cloud Recesses, and Gusu is closer, besides—”

“If you consider that unseasoned rabbit food to be edible. Get up, my friend. When’s the last time you’ve left the Cloud Recesses? The Grand Master never leaves, and look at him. I know the perfect place in town. Quiet, with the best pastries you’ve ever had.”

It’s all overly familiar, but Lan Xichen embraces it. Nobody has ever dared to treat him this way before, so there are no bad memories tied to it, unlike everything else in his life.

They eat an early supper at the Flowering Begonia Teahouse. Xiao Xingchen’s meal consists of dumplings in sweet wine and pastries. Lan Xichen can’t bring himself to stomach such a horror, but he finds himself eating every bite of his steamed rice and vegetables.

“Zewu-jun prefers simple foods,” observes Xiao Xingchen. He’s been watching Lan Xichen eat as if he’d been thinking about something else and forgotten to glance away at something neutral.

“We eat simply at the Cloud Recesses.”

“I know; I’ve been suffering.” He smiles as if this were a joke. “Zewu-jun’s order reminds me of someone.” He glances off towards a waiter, as if trying to change the subject. “Shall I order more wine?”

“You know it’s—”

“Against the rules. I know, I know. As is speaking during meals. Has Zewu-jun never been drunk?”

Lan Xichen winces. “Such a thing doesn’t interest me.”

“Me, neither, to be quite honest. I’ve found that it’s dangerous to be impaired in any way.” Xiao Xingchen starts to lick his fingers, then catches himself and instead daintily dips them in the bowl of scented finger-water. “I like the flavor of sweet wine, though, and I know when to stop.” He pushes his cup towards Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen takes a few sips of the wine. He’ll rid himself of the alcohol with his golden core, he tells Xiao Xingchen, but for once he doesn’t.

He doesn’t quite like how it makes him feel. Too hot, too blurry. Normally he’d be happy to be outside himself, to feel like something other than what he is, but as always this past year, alcohol just makes him feel heavy and queasy. He immediately eliminates the alcohol, but a brightness remains in his chest, a strange airiness.

Xiao Xingchen launches into a discussion of the various wines he’s tasted. Even Lan Xichen can tell that he knows nothing about wine, but his commentary on the various places he’s drunk that wine is entertaining. An idiotic, completely pointless conversation, but Lan Xichen welcomes it. Welcomes Xiao Xingchen taking him on a walk through the town afterwards, welcomes him taking him back to Cloud Recesses by the longer route, all on foot, no suggestion of riding their swords and ending their excursion. There’s warmth in his limbs for the first time in a long time, from the exercise or conversation or wine he doesn’t know.

They part outside the Family Courtyard.

“Two hours after curfew, then,” says Xiao Xingchen, bowing, and Lan Xichen nods.

This is not the right thing to do, he somehow feels. He doesn’t know why. Just a little prick in the back of his mind.

He disregards the feeling. There hasn’t been anything this past year that he hasn’t second-guessed.

Lan Qiren summons him as soon as he steps foot in his room. The entire Cloud Recesses he learns, has been turned upside-down looking for him. He gets the idea that his uncle thought they’d find him floating face-down in the Cold Spring.

The image makes him smile for some reason, and Lan Qiren’s worried frown hardens into a disapproving one.

Lan Xichen starts to feel cold again.

 *   *   *   *   *

He’s late to his rendezvous with Xiao Xingchen.

“I was beginning to give up,” says Xiao Xingchen. He’s sitting on the stairs to the porch, tossing white pebbles into the grass, ruining the perfect green turf. He’s changed into what Lan Xichen recognizes as the best of his three outfits. Green with black trim, gold accents, and a black inner robe. “Despite Rule 892—” Do not break promises “—and Rule 17.” Be punctual in all things.

“People were…interested in me.” He doesn’t mention that he’s ninety-percent certain that a watch is being kept on his room. He knows how that would sound. But he’s not crazy. It’s the rest of the world that’s gone mad. All he’d done was slip away for a single afternoon—

“Where shall we do it? Inside? Outside?”

“Inside. Can’t risk anyone hearing. I won’t be able to spare any spiritual energy on a silencing spell. That’s why I chose this place.” Lan Xichen unlocks the door, locking it again behind them.

It’s been five months since he’s last been here. Someone has been in to clean, but everything is exactly as he left it.

He takes a certain comfort in that. This is still his sanctuary, despite being violated by whomever came in and dusted.

He leads Xiao Xingchen into the main room, gesturing at him to sit down at the low table across from his. He kneels before his own table and produces his guqin from its silky white-and-blue qiankun bag.

It’s been a long, long time since he’s so much as lain eyes on the instrument. He runs his fingers down the lacquered wood, grounding himself in its solidity. He is here, now, in the present. All the bad memories of the past belonged exactly there: in the past.

But…

He gets to his feet. “Switch places.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Sit here. I’ll sit there.” He seats himself in Xiao Xingchen’s vacated seat.

That’s better. He’d always sat on the right while playing for Nie Mingjue in the Unclean Realm, but here he’s on the left.

Different. Entirely different.

The music he will play now will be good. Will help, not harm. He will be in control. Nobody else will be playing. Nobody else is here to harm his new friend…

He has Xiao Xingchen set the spirit-trapping pouch down on the table. Soft brown felt-like material trimmed with black, with a black tassel and symbols written in what looks like blood. Xiao Xingchen is reluctant to let it go, sitting leaning forward as if readying himself to dart across the room and grab it at the first sign of trouble.

“What exactly do you want me to ask?”

Xiao Xingchen doesn’t seem to hear him.

“Xiao Xingchen?”

The rogue cultivator’s head jerks up. “What?”

“What do you want me to ask the physician’s spirit?”

Xiao Xingchen swallows. There’s a smile on his face, but it’s one of his fixed ones that looks uncomfortable to wear. “Ask him how I can bring him back.”

“What about your hand?”

“Ask him how to bring him back! But not his name,” he adds. “He’s extremely private. Won’t respond at all if you ask that.”

But, name or no name, the spirit doesn’t so much as twitch.

“It’s too badly fractured,” says Lan Xichen. “I can barely so much as feel it.”

“Try again.”

“Xiao Xingchen,” says Lan Xichen, trying to infuse his voice with as much of his old gentleness as he can, “there is no getting information from this man’s spirit.”

“Try again!”

“Daozhang—”

Xiao Xingchen is on his feet. “Try again!”

“Complex questions are always a shot in the dark, daozhang. Qin language is not—”

Xiao Xingchen heaves the table across the room, sending it tearing through a delicate screen painted with blue cranes. “Try again, fuck you!”

Lan Xichen remains completely still. “Xiao Xingchen, this spirit is mere powder.”

Xiao Xingchen turns on him. There’s madness in his eyes. “There has to be something left! There has to be! I felt it! It’s been too long since you’ve last tried, you’re out of practice—there has to be something left, there has to be—”

Lan Xichen summons all of his spiritual energy, pours it into the guqin, plucks the strings with more concentration than he’s given anything in eleven months. The simplest Inquiry question, the first he’d ever learned: Who are you?

The response comes faintly, as if from across a vast gulf. The merest quiver of the guqin strings, the slightest brush of air:

Xiao Xingchen.

***

Up Next: Lan Xichen decides that solipsism and nihilism make an excellent combination. 

Or: The joys of library research are many and varied.

Chapter 3  Read on AO3!  

[nisa7890]

Course Information

Nisa Trainings

IBM WTX Course

Course Duration: 25 Hours

Timings: Weekdays (1-2 Hours per day) [OR] Weekends (2-3 Hours per day)

Training Method: Instructor Led Online

[supriyasharma9718]

[daprec]

Unspoken and Spoken Mat Rules At Combat Room Miramar #jiujitsufirst

Some of these were borrowed from BJJEE and Gentlemen Grappler, some were modified by me, and others are my own rules or rules that have been passed down and seen as tradition

1. Shake the hands of the black belts when you enter and when you leave the mat. Additionally, after greeting the blackbelt please greet your teammates with the JJ handshake and smile 🙂

2. If a higher belt invites you to roll, you roll. They will invite you politely, if you say no they might not ask you again (except on special situations such as injuries, necessary rest for competition and others).

3. If a black belt is rolling near you, stop and move. If you are a black belt and you have a stable position and the lower belts around you are scrambling or with a submission locked in, don’t be a tyrant, be humble, you move.

4. Be stoic. If you get a submission, don’t celebrate, don’t show any joy. If you are submitted, don’t show frustration, shake hands and restart.

5. If the pain is tolerable don’t stop. Don’t talk to your partner about it, don’t expect them to say they are sorry, most of the times they didn’t even realized what happened. Keep it to yourself.

6. No excuses, a tap is a tap, crank or no crank. Don’t waste time massaging your ego explaining why you tapped, focus on what you should had done instead.

7. During the explanation of a position be attentive, listen carefully. Don’t expect the full attention of your professor if you didn’t give him any.

8. Payback rule, whatever you do, it will be done to you. If you are rough we will be rough on you. If you dedicate yourself to Jiu-Jitsu we will dedicate ourselves to you.

9. Do not cheer for teammates while you watch them roll. If you are on the side watching a roll, please keep your outbursts of joy that your teammate got a sub on your other teammate. It’s not fair and doesn’t help the person who got sub’d at all.

10. No coaching from the sidelines unless you’re a purple belt or above. If you ARE purple and above, please do not coach if the head coach, instructor or Professor is coaching. Too many people shouting instructions at 1 practitioner doesn’t help anyone and it’s the Professors job to coach his/her students. If Professor isn’t there (in a tournament scenario), then the high belt coaches

11. Whitebelts are not allowed to make rules or teach. You’re a whitebelt and with all due respect, you don’t know much at this stage. Unless you’re a D1 All American Wrestler or Judo World Champion who are joining up in BJJ, you are not allowed to teach newcomers or other whitebelts, and you most certainly are not allowed to make rules on the mats.

12. Always make a bow before stepping onto the mats. This is a quick and nice way to check your mind and body onto the tatame, and focus on training, leaving your job and real world problems behind.

13. No barefeet off of the mats ESPECIALLY WHEN GOING TO THE TOILETS. If I need to explain why then you owe me 3000 pushups.

14. In general lower belts are not allowed to ask higher belts to roll. There are always exceptions but this rule must always be adhered to unless an arrangement or conversation has been had by the individual high belt. This also goes for male whitebelts asking other women whitebelts to roll. At this stage the technique isn’t there yet and we want to mitigate unintentional injury as much as possible.

15. NEVER ask when you’re going to be promoted, or when another student is going to be promoted. Instructors have their reasons why/when/if to promote a student and their judgement must be respected at all times, regardless if you understand or disagree with the decision. This is simply how it’s always been.

16. Training at other gyms. One-off training is fine if you want to visit another gym to get a different experience or have friends there. But regular training at other gyms isn’t cool for a variety of reasons. The 1st being your grading process, and the 2nd being the fact that coaches invest a lot of time and effort into your training. Training at HQ or other Combat Rooms is strongly encouraged, but you do not earn credit at CR Miramar from training at other CRs.

17. If late to class – please wait to be waved onto the mats by your Professor. This is so that he/she knows you’re on the mats to help keep track of attendance and safety. Additionally without question 20 pushups is owed as penalty for being late.

18. Forgetting your belt. Whitebelts owe 20 pushups, Bluebelts owe 40 pushups, Purplebelts owe 40 pushups + 40 burpees. Brown and Blackbelts never forget their belts because punishment works.

19. Start and finish class with a bow. As previously mentioned this is more of a handshake rather than any sort of reverence. Its more to pay respect to each other: the instructor to you, and you to the instructor.

20. Line up according to rank. (yes even in the picture) The people who have put in more mat time have not only earned this right, but also have more knowledge than the lower belts. This is attributed to the “Martial” part of “Martial (Military) Arts (Subjective Craft)”

21. Blackbelts are called “Professor or Sensei”. If your gym has purple/brown belts who are official gym instructors named by the head instructor, they are called “Coach”

22. Always have a clean gi or no-gi uniforms. “No one wants to essmell you esstink” – Rey Diogo

23. Please trim your finger and toe nails. We don’t know how to fight wolverines yet

24. Be a good training partner and/or Uke. When practicing technique with a partner, or if Professor calls upon you to demonstrate a technique, please don’t act like this is a live sparring event. Practice is practice, rolling is rolling, demonstration is DEMONSTRATION. If you resist or start defending, Professor will not call on you again to help.

25. Train in a controlled and methodical manner. We are not here to injure our teammates or “break our toys” as I like to say. Beginners don’t have the technique yet to implement this philosophy at first, so upper belts please don’t get frustrated. Help them along the way, as upper belts did for you when you were a beginner. Beginners, no one is going to kill you, so try to remain calm during a roll and learn something.

26. Please stick to the IBJJF ruleset of submissions unless you have verbally agreed with your training partner otherwise.

This means:

No neck cranks, cervical locks or heel hooks

No slamming

No footlocks or kneebars for white belts (straight ankle locks are IBJJF approved for all belts)

No fish hooking, eye gouging or grabbing fingers individually

Avoid chokes along the jaw, chin, teeth or face

ALWAYS respect the tap, and allow partners time to tap

27. Go slow when applying a submission. Most joint locks can cause severe damage, especially the arm and shoulder locks. I know it’s exciting, but please go slow enough to give your partners a second to tap or don’t apply the submission 150%

28. Tap early and a lot. Everyone taps – this is part of the game. Think of it as a game of “gotcha” rather than a game of wining or losing. Most of my taps usually end with a giggle and a “that was awesome well done”. This is how we learn. This is the realtime feedback that illustrates a mistake on our part that needs addressing. Work on your weaknesses.

29. Please invest in a mouthguard. Accidents do happen, and as adult humans our teeth do not grow back. Pay the money on a good one, it’s worth it. This is not mandatory, but strongly advised.

30. MINIMUM attendance for promotion consideration is 3 days a week. I need to see you on the mats at least 3 days a week consistently for 6 months for you to be considered for a stripe or promotion. This does NOT include going to HQ or other gyms or open mat (free rolling days). You need to be on the mats in Miramar to qualify for a promotion. If you can tap and sweep everyone in the gym but are only showing up 1 day a week then you most likely won’t get promoted.

31. Always come to class with a positive and open mindset

32. During technique practice please do NOT talk the entire time. Not only is this disrespectful to your Professor, you are wasting your training partners time as well as your own time. Technique practice time is the single most important part of class and is the only time I expect full focus from all of my students. We only get 3 hours a week to train, and only 1/2 that time to practice technique to please avoid socializing and practice the technique.

33. Do not attend class if you are sick. Please stay home until you are completely well and ready to train. Do not come to class to watch if you still have symptoms

34. Do not train injured. If you are injured please come to class to watch, but as difficult as it may be, please don’t train. Injuries can linger for YEARS if you do not take the time to heal properly. You’ve already dedicated yourself to JJ, it’s not going anywhere. Rest up, heal up and come back stronger!

35. Please remove all jewelery, earrings, bracelets before class

36. If you are on the side watching people roll, it is your job to help prevent collisions happening on the mats. Step inbetween 2 groups of people rolling and do your best to either protect their heads or if they get too close let them know they should move. The higher belts have the mat priority, so lower belts move for them.

37. High belts are responsible for the mats after class and locking up. If I’m not around to mop the mats, high belts are responsible. It’s really EVERYONES job. Make sure the mats are mopped and stacked before leaving the gym. Don’t wait for someone else to do it, please help. Also if there is no one else in the gym, the high belt (bluebelt and up) is responsible to lock up.

38. NO SHOES ON THE MAT EVER. I shouldn’t even have to type this, but sadly I do.

39. *AMENDED* Leave drama off of the mat AND out of the group chat please. If it’s mat drama please deal with it off of the mats in a kind and respectful way. If it’s chat drama please deal with it off the chat in person in a kind and respectful way.

Please keep in mind I work 50-60hr weeks PLUS teach BJJ – 2 jobs. I would appreciate it if people could figure it out among themselves. Keep in mind I’m only qualified to give you Jiu Jitsu and Motion Capture Animation advice 😊

If you find yourself consistently at the center of issues at the gym or the chat, perhaps step away for a bit and think about what the common denominator is and how you can improve/fix things and come back with a different mind set. If things can’t be settled then speak to me about a different solution, but please try the above avenues prior to reaching out to me.

All of that said I’m always here for my students and can/will help however possible, but if it’s things I don’t need to be involved in, please help me and be #mindful in that regard.🙏

40. Guys – don’t hit on the ladies. Our gym has a unique and large female presence and I want to keep it that way. We haven’t had a problem yet that I know of and it’s going to stay that way.

41. Saying “Oss” is an affirmation. This is a very traditional method of either saying “you understand”, or “I give you permission to practice on me and I on you” or just a sign of gratitude and respect. Oss is cool

42. What happens on the mats stays on the mats. I know we all get excited and our ego’s pumped when we sweep or tap out someone. But lets keep that to ourselves – we don’t need to gloat off the mats about sweeping a 1 stripe whitebelt, or how we heelhooked a 12 year old, or how we passed a blackbelts guard (who 99.99% let you anyway). We especially find it tacky and uncool posting these kinds of things on social media so keep it in the gym.

43. Beginners, yes the higher belt let you have it, unless they said you legitimately “got them”, so please hold off on launching the blimp and having a parade until you have confirmation. Its the higher belts job to help guide you along this path, and at some point you will stop being given chances.

***UPDATE 01***

44. Whatever special arrangements I’ve made with an individual apply to that individual ONLY. Sometimes there are things in life that are out of our control, and we cannot manage to abide by some of these rules. If a student has spoken directly to me about some life event or change and we need to come up with a plan specific to them, that does NOT mean it applies to everyone. Every student is responsible to speak to me about their situations.

***UPDATE 02***

45. Visiting guests from another gyms. Of course always be courteous and welcoming, but the general unspoken rule is to smoke them when rolling – usually when matched to your belt level 😃. This is a worldwide unspoken standard within BJJ gyms. The thinking is when they leave our gym and go back to their home gym, they’ll know that we practice good Jiu Jitsu and train hard. This helps keep quality and standards up within the BJJ community and increases the drive at other clubs to improve. It’s kind of a weird quality control, but hey we’re learning how to fight so it isn’t always pretty. There are ALWAYS exceptions to the rules, but this is the general “Old School” way of doing things, that as far as I know is still an unspoken standard.

46. Visiting other schools. Be respectful and courteous – mind your manners at all times. Give them a call or an email before showing up to ask if it’s OK to jump into a class. Greet the Black Belt or head coach 1st. Treat the tatami how you would treat your own school regardless if they do not practice the same etiquette as your home gym. Train hard, be technical, – don’t be a meat head.

“It’s better to know your manners and not need them instead of needing your manners and not knowing them.” – Miyamoto Musashi I think 😛

***UPDATE 03***

47. Gi and no-gi uniform. Being that we’re still in a Covid pandemic, we still must continue practicing safe hygene. This means wearing leggings and rash guards under your gi. This means wearing leggings, shorts and long sleeve rash guards for no-gi. We’ll continue this practice when we eventually are a post-Covid world.

***UPDATE 04***

48. ZERO TOLERANCE of sexual harassment. Ladies if anything of the such happens at our club, however unlikely, please bring it to my attention IMMEDIATELY. I have a 1 strike and you’re out policy and will not condone this kind of behavior from any of my students.

Other thoughts

You’re going to want to quit. Don’t worry we have all felt that throughout this journey. BJJ is hard. Some say the hardest thing they’ve ever done. The learning never ends – the same goes with life and anything else you want to master. And just as in life, running from your problems never solves anything so call timeout, recharge, and come back!

Ask yourself what kind of student do you want to be? One that’s made of rubber? Bouncing back and forth to class, disappearing for months, reappearing for months again and again? One that’s made of wood? After a couple breaks or if things get too hard they quit, never to return? Or one that’s made of steel? A student who regardless of the injuries, hits to the ego, damage to the body, never bends or breaks and always shows up ready to train.

Rubber, Wood or Steel – which are you?

For most all practicioners, the mats are a sacred space. We train because not only do we love the art, but our time on the mats is a cathertic experience. We can forget our daily lives, our jobs, families, friends, pets etc and focus 100% on ourselves, our minds and our bodies while learning something usefull and cool.

Lets not forget what this means to everyone and always give and pay the tatame and class the reverence it deserves. Oss!

*Over time this rule set can and will be amended*

Unspoken and Spoken Mat Rules At Combat Room Miramar #jiujitsufirst was originally published on davepreciado

[keepingupwithfundies]

CO 1103: A Duggar Bachelor Pad

The Duggars engage in hurricane relief efforts. Jessa & Ben take their kids to Kansas City. It is Felicity’s first swim lesson. Jed & Jer show off their new place, and Duggar Family Fun night is a competition at a corn maze.

-T 

Hurricane Dorian has hit the Bahamas, and many of the Duggars are trained in relief efforts, so they headed to the Bahamas to help where they can. The region was devastated, and the Duggars are organizing and distributing supplies. They helped connect doctors to people in need. Jana and Abbie are there and helping support the efforts. John says no one is ever really safe from natural disasters, and you have to help where you can. Jason says being able to help with aid has been a blessing and he is glad to be able to help others in their time of need.

At Jessa & Ben's, they are preparing to take a road trip to Kansas City. This is their first road trip with 3 kids. It is a three and a half hour drive, and they are hoping the kids will nap. Spurgeon says he usually naps but sometimes he stays awake. Jessa says they have some mom hacks: traveling with snacks, traveling in PJs and getting dressed when they're 15 minutes out. They are looking forward to an apple orchard and maybe the zoo. On the ride, they sing songs like Amazing Grace. Ivy is napping. Spurgeon says he likes looking out the window and singing songs on trips. Michelle always had a plastic tub she called a "survival kit" for long trips. Jinger said on their long trip, they would go for 3 hours and then let Felicity run around and that would tire her out for the next 3 hours. Jessa has wrapped some toys for the boys so they get to open them up and play with them along the trip. Spurgeon liked the wrapped toys, but Henry gets frustrated. Henry and Ivy nap, but Spurgeon doesn't.

Ben and Jessa arrive, and meet up with their friends the Chapmans. Brandon & Jenna Chapman were friends of the Seewalds from Church, and their kids are close in age: Spurgeon is close in age to Isla, Henry to Judah, and Ivy to Zion. They arrive at the orchard, and Jessa and Ben try to figure out whether the apples on the ground are ok. Some of them look ok, but generally Ben thinks the low hanging fruit is there for a reason. Ben and Brandon start trying to get the apples down from the top of the tree. They jump, lift up kids to get them, and climb on the wagon. After collecting a lot of apples, Jenna says they will have to look up apple recipes while the Seewalds are in town. The Seewalds and Chapmans are so happy to be reunited.

In LA, the Vuolos are heading to Felicity's first swim lesson. She is 15 months, and they want her to be comfortable with the water. Jinger says there are a lot of pools in California and she feels safer with Felicity being able to swim. Jeremy asked if she did lessons as a kid, and Jinger says not really, but her younger siblings do all the time. The oldest kids learned to swim, and so did the younger kids, but some in the middle are not as big of swimmers, and that includes Jinger. Jessa says she is also a terrible swimmer, and Joy says she can't really swim. Kendra is a good swimmer, but Joe isn't. Jeremy also learned as a kid, but isn't anything special. Jinger has been getting lessons from a friend who was trained by an instructor. They arrive at the pool, and Jeremy gets in the water with Felicity and Instructor Kenneth. Jinger thought it was a good opportunity for dad and daughter time. They go a few different things to get her comfortable in the water, and eventually do a little dunk. Felicity starts crying, and she is not a fan of dunking in the water. Felicity sees Jinger on the side of the pool and wants to go to her. Jinger goes and hides behind a post. Jinger wishes she could comfort her, but knows it is good to get her comfortable in the water. Jeremy said he has learned more than Felicity, but it was a good start.

Jed and Jer have moved into their own place. The living room just contains a ping pong table since they don't have couches. It has a little kitchen and plan on getting a small table. They share a room with two twin beds. They have their own bathroom and closet for the first time. Jed and Jer say that they aren't the first to move out before marriage: John did for a while to pursue his pilot's license, and Joe went to college but came back. They have an office as well. The twins say it is up to the older kids whether they want to stay or move out, and a lot of them love living with their family. Jed says this is just the next spot for him to go, and his parents are excited for him. The other bedroom has a bunk bed and is a guest room. Joe and Josiah arrive to check out the new place. Josiah brought some patio chairs along for them to sit in. Joe says it is nice, but a small house. Everyone jokes about what you should give as a housewarming gift for a bachelor pad: trash cans, air fresheners, home-cooked meals, restaurant gift cards.  Jed and Jer have only been out for a week and a half, and haven't cooked yet. They're making burgers for dinner for their brothers. They preheat the oven for fries. Both twins are not good cooks, and Josiah steps in to help. The twins say their brother's have wives who can teach them how to cook. They miss living with their brothers and mom's cooking. Both the twins are waiting for Mrs. Right, and don't have anyone in mind now. Overall, it was a great night they say.

The Seewalds and Chapmans arrive at the zoo, and Jessa is breastfeeding while walking, something she only does on group activities. They go to a lorikeet exhibit- most Duggars don't know what they are, but Jeremy does- they're little birds, in the parakeet family. The parents thought feeding the birds would be fun. There is a callback to when Jessa & Ben had the brother help build a deck at their place ad a bird pooped on Ben. One bird comes and lands on Ivy's head, and this baby is entirely unbothered by the bird on her head. Henry, Spurgeon, Isla and Judah enjoy feeding the birds. It starts to rain, so they head inside to Stingray bay, where you can touch stingrays. As they pet the stingrays, they realize Henry is gone- apparently he's a bit of a runner. They find him quickly, but while looking at monkeys he goes for a run again and Ben goes after him. After the zoo, it is nap time and it was a great visit to the zoo and fun trip to Kansas City.

Instead of the usual Family Fun Night, the Duggars have family fun day at a corn maze. The family will divide into 6 teams with a timer each, and the fastest team out of their maze wins. John & Abbie have the two of them and Tyler and Josie. They head off into the maze, trying to walk fast and make their way through the maze. Jason's team- Johannah, Anna, and her 5 kids with a stroller. Joe's Team is himself, Kendra and Garrett. Kendra is pretty pregnant, so they don't expect to win. She is 36 weeks and feeling big with some aches and pains, but feeling pretty good overall. John's team is out of the maze in 11:37. Joe took a picture of the maze, and drew a map on his phone to get though it. Jason's team does it in 8:38 with Anna, pregnant, jogging to the finish. Joe & Kendra do it in 10:32. Kendra is contracting after going through the maze. Joy, Austin and Gideon are the next team in. They carry Gideon and just run the maze. Austin thinks that with the pregnant ladies and strollers, that will get them through this. Ben's team is next: with Jessa, their kids and Jordyn. Ben gives them a pep talk before they go in, trying to get them to win. Jessa also took a picture of the map, and she has a route planned. Joe & Jessa have plans, but John and Joy don't- which Kendra thinks fits their personalities. Jeremiah has his parents, Justin, Jackson and Jennifer. Joy's team is struggling to find the route out. Austin says if it wasn't for all the corn, they could see the end. That was his first corn maze, apparently. Joy's team finishes in 15:30. Jim Bob's team finishes in 7:48. Ben's team finishes in 6:25. Ben is proud of their win, and Jessa needs water. Jim Bob says everyone made in through and was a winner. They all clap, and talk about how much they value weekly family night and this was a fun way to do something new.

[sadmmann]

Exactly 8 years ago, on July 22, 2011, two cooperative terrorist acts took place in Norway. The first attack was carried out by a bomb in the center of Oslo, 8 people were killed as a result of an explosion, and at least 209 people were injured, 12 seriously. A few hours later, a terrorist landed on the island of Utoya, there was a summer youth camp on it, and on that day hundreds of children were on the island. An armed mentally ill man opened fire on children, adolescents and adults. As a result, 69 people died and 110 were injured. 77 people died in this terrible, crazy tragic event. 77 smiles, dreams and aspirations are gone. Hundreds of people received the hardest injuries that they are fighting to this day, with physical and moral. Someone has learned to live again and someone will never be able to return to their former life. Because of the psychopath who thought that killing for a "good" purpose is right. Not. I want you to look at these faces and read their names, study their stories and remember. They deserve it.

Oslo bombing

Hanna Endresen, 61, Oslo

Receptionist in the security department of the Government Administration Services. She was described as a "good colleague".

Tove Ashill Knutsen, 56, Oslo

Secretary with the electricians and information technology workers' union. On her way to subway station when bomb exploded.

Kai Hauge, 32, Oslo

Owned a bar and restaurant in Oslo. A colleague described his death as "a great loss".

Jon Vegard Lervag, 32, Oslo

A lawyer who worked in the justice department. He was described as "socially engaged".

Ida Marie Hill, 34, Oslo

Originally from Grue, Hedmark county, Ida worked as an adviser to the ministry of justice. She was described as "a dear and highly-valued employee".

Hanne Ekroll Loevlie, 30, Oslo

A senior government worker originally from Tyristrand, Buskerud county. Colleagues said she "represented the best in us".

Anne Lise Holter, 51, Valer i Oestfold, Oestfold county

Senior consultant to Norway's PM Jens Stoltenberg's office. Officials sent their "warmest thoughts and sympathy" to her family and friends.

Kjersti Berg Sand, 26, Nord-Ordal

Worked on international issues in Justice Department. Colleagues said they had lost a "dear and highly valued employee".

Utoeya island shooting

Mona Abdinur, 18, Oslo

The committed young politician was described as "a well-loved friend, who was socially engaged and interested in multicultural issues". 

Maria Maageroe Johannesen, 17, Noetteroey, Vestfold county

Student at Greve Forest High School who was interested in music, dance and drama. Described as a wonderful, conscientious girl who was a "ray of sunshine".

Ismail Haji Ahmed 19 Hamar, Hedmark county

Better known as Isma Brown after appearing on a talent show. The dance instructor was described as a "very bubbly, happy, caring and happy boy. He was very positive with a very big heart.

Ronja Soettar Johansen, 17, Vefsn, Nordland county

An active blogger, Ronja had a keen interest in music. Friends said she was "a person with courage, commitment and kindness".

Thomas Margido Antonsen, 16, Oslo

A student council representative. Described by friends as "a boy who spread joy".

Sondre Kjoeren, 17, Orkdal, Soer-Troendelag county

Described as a gentle but committed person. He was said to have been heavily involved in efforts to get a new sports hall in his village.

Porntip Ardam, 21, Oslo

Known as Pamela. She was described as talented, super-intelligent, politically active and down to earth.

Margrethe Boeyum Kloeven, 16, Baerum, Akershus county

The student council leader was described as an "active and versatile girl".

Modupe Ellen Awoyemi, 15, Drammen, Buskerud county

Daughter of the city council politician Lola Awoyemi. Described as a kind and open girl, who was active in AUF discussions.

Syvert Knudsen, 17, Lyngdal, Vest-Agder county

The student politician is believed to have been one of the first shot on the island. His family described him as a "bubbly" boy with a keen interest in music.

Lene Maria Bergum, 19, Namsos, Nord-Troendelag

Her head teacher described her as an excellent, beautiful youth, who was sociable, interested in international issues. She had planned to start a summer job as a journalist.

Anders Kristiansen, 18, Bardu, Troms county

An active young politician and leader of the AUF in his area. He was said to be "full of initiative" with "a great desire to work in politics".

Kevin Daae Berland, 15, Akoey, Hordaland county

Active in Askoey AUF and was involved in local politics as well as being a member of the youth council.

Elisabeth Troennes Lie, 16, Halden, Oestfold county

A board member of the Halden AUF. Described as "the sweetest person in the world".

Trond Berntsen, 51, Oevre Eiker, Buskerud county

Crown Princess of Norway's step-brother. The royal court said the off-duty police officer was killed while working as a security guard on the island.

Gunnar Linaker, 23, Bardu, Troms county

Regional secretary of Labour party's youth wing. Father described him as a "calm, big teddy bear with lots of humour and lots of love".

Sverre Flate Bjoerkavag, 28, Sula, Soer-Troendelag county

Union official concerned about justice, equality and community thinking. Described as a well-liked young man who fought for pupils and students' rights. Was training to be a nurse.

Tamta Lipartelliani, 23, Georgia

Secretary of the international committee of the Young Socialists of Georgia.

Torjus Jakobsen Blattmann, 17, Kristiansand,Vest-Agder county

Son of former political adviser. His father said he was a boy "full of humour" who loved playing the guitar.

Eva Kathinka Lutken, 17, Sarpsborg, Oestfold county

She was described as an active politician who was well liked.

Monica Boesei, 45, Hole, Buskerud county

PM Jens Stoltenberg said: "To many of us, she was the embodiment of Utoeya. And now she is dead. Shot and killed whilst taking care of and giving joy to young people."

Even Flugstad Malmedal, 18, Gjoevik, Oppland county

The student with an interest in politics was described as "a gentle boy who stood up for his friends".

Carina Borgund, 18, Oslo

Friends and family said she was "kind, caring, gentle and positive. She loved life and spread joy to everyone around her".

Tarald Kuven Mjelde, 18, Osteroey

Said to be a big fan of Chelsea football team and described as "very warm, friendly and socially engaged".

Johannes Buoe, 14, Mandal, Vest-Agder county

"An independent boy with a good sense of humour," his parents told NRK. He was interested in dogs, hunting, snowmobiling and took an active part in the youth community.

Ruth Benedicte Vatndal Nilsen, 15, Toensberg, Vestfold county

Described by friends as "always happy, positive, and without prejudice".

Asta Sofie Helland Dahl, 16, Sortland, Nordland county

Teachers described her as a wonderful girl who was "open and cheerful".

Hakon Oedegaard, 17, Trondheim, Soer-Troendelag county

Music student at Heimdal high school and member of Byasen school marching band. Described as a role model for others in the band.

Sondre Furseth Dale, 17, Haugesund, Rogaland county

Had large network of friends through music scene and politics. Described as a dedicated person who put 100% into everything he was interested in.

Emil Okkenhaug, 15, Levanger, Nord-Troendelag county

A sports lover described as modest and liked by all who knew him.

Monica Iselin Didriksen, 18, Sund, Hordaland county

Active in Sund AUF, she was described by friends as a unique and bubbly girl.

Diderik Aamodt Olsen, 19, Nesodden, Akershus county

Vice president of Nesodden AUF. He was the youngest member of editorial staff working on the organisation's magazine.

Gizem Dogan, 17, Trondheim, Soer-Troendelag county

Described as a clever student who contributed to the cohesion of her class. Elected as central member of local AUF a month before the tragedy.

Henrik Pedersen, 27, Porsanger, Finnmark county

Leader of Porsanger AUF. Described as a "breath of fresh air" in the local community. A Labour colleague said he was very engaged and engaging.

Andreas Edvardsen, 18, Sarpsborg, Oestfold county

Director of Sarpsborg AUF and active in in the Labour youth league regional committee in Oestfold. Described as "a very caring and confident person".

Rolf Christopher Perreau, 25, Trondheim, Soer-Troendelag county

Known as Christopher. Long-term member of the AUF and was elected to the board in October. Described as a skilled orator and a charismatic young politician.

Tore Eikeland ,21, Osteroy, Hordaland county

PM Jens Stoltenberg described him as "one of our most talented young politicians".

Karar Mustafa Qasim, 19, Vestby, Akershus county

Originally from Iraq, Karar was with friends at summer camp when he was killed. The local mayor described his death as "an enormous tragedy".

Bendik Rosnaes Ellingsen, 18, Rygge, Oestfold county

Had a summer job at the justice ministry before attending camp. He was secretary of Moss Regional Labour Youth, who said they had lost a caring, open and inclusive boy.

Bano Abobakar Rashid, 18, Nesodden, Akershus county

Leader of Nesodden AUF. She was said to have dedicated her life to fighting for democracy and against racism.

Aleksander Aas Eriksen, 16, Meråker, Nord-Troendelag county

Described as socially-engaged as well as "impulsive and passionate".

Henrik Rasmussen, 18, Hadsel, Nordland county

Treasurer of Hadsel AUF. Said to be a very committed person, both in politics and culture.

Andrine Bakkene Espeland, 16, Fredrikstad, Oestfold county

Described as a politically-engaged girl who was keen to take care of the weakest.

Synne Roeyneland, 18, Oslo

A student described by friends as a "funny girl, who always had something to offer: opinions about politics and love and fun and witty comments".

Hanne Balch Fjalestad, 43, Lunner, Oppland county

Danish government confirmed the Danish national was killed while working on the island as a first aid assistant. She was with her 20-year-old daughter, who survived the shooting.

Ida Beathe Rogne, 17, Oestre Toten, Oppland county

A keen student described as happy and funny as well as determined.

Silje Merete Fjellbu, 17, Tinn, Telemark county

Student politician described as a "wonderful girl who had much to contribute".

Simon Saebo, 18, Salangen, Troms county

The student politician was said to be a natural leader. Those who knew him described him as trusting and kind, and a person who showed great concern for others.

Hanne Kristine Fridtun, 19 Stryn, Sogn og Fjordane county

The nursing student was the local AUF county chairman. Described as energetic with great commitment.

Marianne Sandvik, 16, Hundvag, Stavanger

The student was described as a quiet girl who always stood up for those who needed her. Her father said she was concerned with injustice in the world.

Andreas Dalby Groennesby, 17, Stange, Hedmark county

His father had exchanged text messages with him before the shooting. His father told NRK that public support had helped at a painful, terrible time.

Fredrik Lund Schjetne, 18, Eidsvoll, Akershus county

Described by friends as "a great person" whom it was "an honour" to have known.

Snorre Haller, 30, Trondheim, Soer-Troendelag county

Painter and union man. He was a board member of the Joint Association's Central Youth Committee. Described as a "kind, quiet and generous man".

Lejla Selaci, 17, Fredrikstad, Oestfold county

Leader of the AUF in Fredrikstad. Described as a "very happy and social girl who committed herself to what she believed in".

Rune Havdal, 43, Oevre Eiker, Buskerud county

Worked as a security guard on the island of Utoeya.

Birgitte Smetbak, 15, Noetteroey, Vestfold county

Politicians from her local area said hearing news of her death was "a difficult day".

Guro Vartdal Havoll, 18, Oersta, Moere og Romsdal

An active and determined politician, the young student's family said she was inspired by Ghandi and wanted to make the world a "better place".

Isabel Victoria Green Sogn, 17, Oslo

An enthusiastic member of the AUF who saw her future involved in politics.

Ingrid Berg Heggelund, 18, As, Akershus county

A student who said she loved going to school.

Silje Stamneshagen, 18, Askoey, Hordaland county

Active in Askoey AUF and played in school band. Classmates described her as a happy girl who lit up the school day and every day.

Karin Elena Holst, 15, Rana, Nordland county

A member of the Rana AUF, she spoke to her mother during the shooting. She had urged her daughter to hang up and hide.

Victoria Stenberg, 17, Nes, Akershus county

The oldest of three siblings, she was said to be looking forward to the youth camp.

Eivind Hovden, 15, Tokke, Telemark county

Eivind was involved in his local youth centre and was attending his first summer camp. Described as an "amazing guy, always happy, caring and helpful".

Tina Sukuvara, 18, Vadsoe, Finnmark county

Described as "very talented and engaged" and a person who participated actively in political debates.

Jamil Rafal Mohamad Jamil, 20, Eigersund, Rogaland county

Originally from Iraq, Jamil was described as happy, attentive and curious with a strong desire to contribute.

Sharidyn Svebakk-Boehn, 14, Drammen, Buskerud county

Known as Sissi to friends and family, the schoolgirl was described as a "beautiful, caring and vibrant girl".

Steinar Jessen, 16 Alta, Finnmark county

A keen member of the AUF. The mayor of Alta described him as "a flower that would have grown big and strong".

Havard Vederhus, 21, Oslo

Elected leader of Oslo Labour Youth in February. Friends said he was "ambitious and fearless".

Espen Joergensen, 17, Bodoe, Nordland county

Had recently become head of Bodoe AUF. His best friend said he was someone who could "light up the darkest days".

[catalinaroleplay]

Gender & Pronouns: Female, she/her

Date of Birth: July 28th, 1987 (32)

Place of Birth: Catalina Island, California

Neighborhood: Avalon

Length of Residency: Native

Occupation: Consulting Utility Forester

Face Claim: Mila Kunis

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGERS: Car Accident. 

On an intensifying forecast which was multiplying on the thermostat, on the 6th of August Eve, after enduring seventeen tortuous hours of labor, one far too dreadful to the young mother’s liking and vexation, Evelyn and Arthur Halliwell became grateful with another addition to their ever-growing family by welcoming their newest addition, Cleo Leigh Halliwell. The family had a new love and joy to spend their every moment fawning over every reaction and moment of the newborn created. It was all of the blissfulness one needed. It was until the newborn started to cry then all of the responsibilities of parenthood faded away from Evelyn. Howling to catch the housekeeper’s attention could wake up the entire household by the deafening noise escaping from Evelyn’s mouth. The woman was the least maternal individual to grace the earth. And, it was further proven as the newborn grew up. After all, the wealth and fortune from Evelyn’s family influence in the jewelry industry proved generations to come didn’t have to worry about working a single day in her life. Evelyn and her children included. Just like any mother, her words, she thrusted each one of her children into a lifestyle full of expectations, coruscating galas and fundraisers, and most importantly, the handouts due to the legacy surname. 

From a young age, Cleo knew how to keep everyone on the edge of their seats. From her chuckle-some, chattery personality, the youngest daughter’s personality and view of the world infuriated her mother. It was deemed un-ladylike for the location of their living and lifestyle she was being brought up into. How could Cleo Halliwell, an advantageous girl with promise and opportunities around every corner, prefer the lifestyle of rather rough and tough it with the guys – acting like a guy herself – instead of being surrounded by the society and debutantes creeping around Catalina Island’s corners? It didn’t make sense to her mother. Why couldn’t her daughter get along with people of her own age? Why couldn’t her daughter be normal and have sleepovers and gossiping sessions about her crushes instead of hoping to attend sporting events or playing beach volleyball when the weekends came around as a form of recreation? It was because those few friends she made effortlessly understood her and treated her like a human being with interests and not like all of the other debutante’s waltzing around Catalina Island. Not an access point to a hefty checkbook due to her mother’s wealth and fortune. It was something Evelyn couldn’t understand. It was clear by the false friendship’s people had attempted to initiate Cleo into. Along with her lackluster of a not-so-delicate personality, the girls she encountered throughout her growing years could never handle the honesty which escaped from the Halliwell’s lips. That was another issue – the mouth on that girl from a young age often got her in trouble but some people deserved the truth. If they didn’t like it, they weren’t cut out to be her friend. It was a mantra testament in which Cleo continued to live on to this current day of her life. 

 The moment when Cleo approached her mother with a sudden interest in dance but particularly in contemporary, Evelyn did everything in her daughter’s power and the surname fortune to hire only the best teacher in the entire world. Anything for her daughter. It’s how she managed to hire Tamara Rojo. An artistic director of the English National Ballet, as well as a lead principal dancer. Previously, Tamara danced as a principal ballerina with The Royal Ballet, having a collection of known performances and awards proving her ability and impact in the industry did not go overlooked. The dynamic between both Cleo and Tamara was an instant blossom from their first meeting with each other. Tamara stimulated her to achieve each and every single one of her goals. Regardless if it was in relevance to dance or other dreams, the woman became an influential figure in her years of growth. An additional mother figure. Due to the fact she often lacked due to Evelyn’s hands-off nature of rising her children’s approach. Anyone who entered into Cleo’s life, whilst as they showed a state of tenderness in their tone and heart to her, they were the gentle reminder of the type of mother she always wanted. Perhaps, ever since Cleo started to work with Tamara, the older woman knew how each one of their sessions filled the young girl’s heart and their was an influence on shaping the young ballerina’s entire world. Someone withheld the highest opinion of her. There was nowhere else she wanted to spend five hours after school, eleven hours during the summertime, on a circadian basis, for a dream on the reality of her future ahead. It’s how Cleo persisted forward. A fighter she had always been.

An occasion unlike anything before soon broadcast for the Halliwell Family ears in the median of Cleo’s senior year of high school. It was from the American Ballet Theatre. A position had been set aside toward the ambitious ballerina within the family to join the company after her graduation date. Everything she worked extensively for a dream was turning into a reality. The news indicated a celebration of all sorts. Any excuse for Evelyn to throw a party for the entire island to discuss satisfied her. Instead, this moment, in particular, was held near and dear to her heart, witnessing a future chapter of her daughter’s life unfolding right in front of her hands. After all, if it wasn’t for Cleo’s private instructor, Tamara Rojo, which was hired by Evelyn and her pulling of strings to make the training experience happen. It was a twist as well of a celebration for the elder Halliwell women by her own success and investment. Nonetheless, even though the tides and true meaning for the celebration got twisted in Evelyn’s mind, nothing could ever change or take away from the overwhelming, joyful feeling Cleo had experienced from that day when she received the news toward the countdown to her new residency in New York City. Her mind circulated all too rapidly. Planning her future in the Big Apple had been taken away from her three weeks prior to her New York City departure. 

A ruptured disc.

A common cause of suffering during an automobile collision. Typically, the severability for most patients were minimal and could be treated through rest and having chiropractic care. The damage happened to be substantive for the Halliwell daughter, who came to a bitter realization of her dream had been whisked away from her. The only way to fix all of the damage of her suffering happened to be through numerous surgeries. Would she ever return back to the strenuous conditions she had formerly put on her body? Unfortunately, no. Those words brought a rare sight from Cleo whilst tears cascaded from her pale, bruised complexion, as an eruption of a wailing roared through the life-sucking hallways in the hospital. Her life was crumbling around her. There was no physical way she could stop it. There was no going back on saving herself from enduring the conditions which brought her here in the first place. Alas, knocking out a total of three surgeries, in the duration of a year, the coffee-colored young adult went through strenuous conditions to allow the mobility to be returned and to regain the ability to walk without screaming in agony. After the third surgery, all was well. Physical therapy had done wonders on her. All of the built-up regression had been taken out by progressing herself forward and realizing she could no longer remain in the past of her life. Once she had received clearance from the doctor, returning back to the Halliwell mansion overlooking a major part of the town, she needed to fall upon her back-up plan. University of California in Berkeley.

Freshman year at Berkeley was an adjustment piece after the chaos from the prior year. Much of her time had been spent in modifying the reality of life-changing a complete three hundred and sixty degrees. A brief stint in a downward spiral. Eventually, the young female with a wide-eyed future ahead of her came to the realization of focusing upon the future instead of reflecting upon the past. Things happened. There was no purpose to dwell on the past. Nor, most importantly, want to return back to the evening when her car accident happened to avoid happening. It had seemed like the universe had a plan for her whether she favored the outcome. So, the slump she had fallen into feathered away due to the distraction of her new friends and the countless adventures they faced on the weekends. Weekends out camping. Exploring the city where their university was emerged into ─ Berkeley, California. There was never a dull moment. If her newfound friends weren’t able to pick her up from the consuming thoughts, she had no idea where she would potentially be. Even though they were unaware of her previous condition from a year ago, it had felt like Cleo knew them for a lifetime instead of a couple months. This was when the decision and reality of her life made sense. It’s when the resentment at everything she endured slowly, but surely, began to fade away. 

As time proceeded, and the lack of knowing where her future would turn in terms of her university education, things all made sense in her second year. A love for camping skyrocketed in terms of her interest. Having her first camping experience during her senior year of high school. Something had to replace the only thing set stone in her conscious. It was a fellow Professor of hers who pointed out the point degree in Professional Forestry. In all retrospect, the coffee-colored female was puzzled by their suggestion. There was no shock factor on Cleo’s lack of ability to narrow down to a particular subject. The professor’s voice and opinions on how suitable she was for this line of the field, considering her love for camping and being with nature was ahead straight in the right path. After much time and consideration, making an appointment with a guidance counselor on campus, Cleo changed her major from Undecided to Professional Forestry. From that moment forward, filling up her credit hours, the female graduated effortlessly in the four-year time span and was offered a job back in her hometown of Catalina Island working as a Consulting Utility Forester for a private company. 

Las Vegas was named Sin City after all. It brought out the worst in anyone who decided to take the weekend away from reality and to get absorbed in the beauty of the hotel lights along with casino’s shrieking your name in hopes you'll blow the entirety of your recent paycheck in one hour of sitting at a table. Self-control was lackluster in this city. Cleo knew everything about that. Even when she wasn’t blinded by the lights and the glamour surrounding her at every beckoning corner, she knew when to have fun. It was an effortless switch that could be flicked on and off. At the age of 27, a dreadful decision had been made on her behalf. After visiting the city for a much-needed vacation, she had fallen victim to getting married to a complete stranger, Matthew Crawley, after only knowing him for a mere five hours. Odd enough, the pairing had a hotel room right by each other and came to town for the same reason to enjoy themselves. It was a decision she would soon regret as time proceeded on. In the efforts of taking care of this horrendous marriage decision, the male moved to Catalina where they had hoped to work forward on the stance of their holy matrimony in which idiotically abided themselves together. Time carried on, Cleo grew to care for him in terms of a platonic relationship. Each day, and every single day, was learning past forward into the newlywed couple. Yet, even though they were companions and cared for the other, after learning about her husband’s affair with a Catalina local and his sabotaging interest in her families’ company. What made matters worse happened to be Matthew coming from a well off family, who was also competitors against the Halliwell’s legacy in the Jewelry world, and he came to snoop. The information hit her sharply. Not a second thought to her decision, the female began the process of annulling her marriage. 

As of a year ago, finalizing the process of her annulment became finalized. Things returned back to normalcy for Cleo. Focusing on work, stating her opinions for everyone to hear whether they like it or not, finding any moment to further irritate her mother. The added bonus was Ava returning back to Catalina after nearly being away for an entire decade. Even after her accident, the coffee-colored hair adult still keeps in contact with her ballet mentor, Tamara Rojo. Both of them made plans times to meet up with each other. The majority of their meetups happened evolve their love and watching others flourish in their craft of dancing. In the recent months as well, adjusting to her life of freedom and moving into spacious home in Avalon, the Halliwell female adopted a tabby orange cat by the name of Garfield, who has become her companion. The cat often refuses to embrace her kisses but everyone knows he loves Cleo more than anything. As of right now, things are just proceeding forwad. But, who knows what’s bound to happen next. Only time will tell.

TRAITS

Positive: Straightforward | Logical | Entertaining

Negative: Imperious | Sardonic | Puerile

Cleo Halliwell is portrayed by Steph.

[365goalsfor365days]

2019 Bucket List

1. Become a Homeowner 2. Get a new mattress 3. Become a first aid instructor 4. Become a CPR instructor 5. Get a position in Labor and Delivery or Postpartum 6. Write a legal will and get it notarized 7. Complete the Neonatal Resuscitation Program 8. Obtain a regular drivers license 9. Write a legal advance directive and get it notarized 10. Get a passport 11. Complete ACLS certification 12. Pay off provincial student loan completely 13. Get a new couch 14. Get a tattoo 15. Get a British Bulldog (Winston) 16. Crochet a viking hat 17.Crochet comfy boot slippers 18. Make melted crayon guitar art (JK) 19. Sew a teddy bear 20. Sew a dress 21. Make a quilt 22. Start a scrapbook 23. Make cold process soap 24. Complete Grad Photobook 25. Complete wedding scrapbook 26. Crochet Christmas stockings 27. Make a Wonder Woman apron (JH) 28. Crochet a hooded owl blanket 29. Crochet a coaster set 30. Fold 1000 origami stars 31. Crochet a Hogwarts baby blanket 32. Crochet a black cat blanket with hood (KS) 33. Fold 1000 origami butterflies 34. Make a mobile of 1000 origami cranes 35. Design my own deck of cards 36. Complete wedding photobook 37. Make homemade lip balm 38. Make a geode bath bomb 39. Make carved wood or burned wood personalized wine box (ME) 40. Swap customized keychains with Daniel 41. Sew matching aprons for me & Daniel 42. Make a cross stitch quilt (CB) 43. Make a Lion King cross stitch (JK) 44. Make wine glass winter scene candle holders 45. Make a Little Mermaid Apron (JM) 46. Make a carved or burned wood "It's Always Tea Time" Mad Hatter Tea Box 47. Crochet a Spiderman blanket (LS) 48. Crochet a Legend of Zelda blanket (CW) 49. Make jazz guitar print art (SS) 50. Adopt an otter 51. Donate 5 items to the Ronald McDonald house 52. Participate in a charity walk/run 53. Donate 5 items to the Terra Centre 54. Run a Hogwarts Running Club race 55. Adopt a polar bear 56. Make my own cookbook 57. Make all the recipes from The Superfun Times Vegan Holiday Cookbook 58. Make crepes 59. Make "Curious Confection" Disney drink 60. Make "Siren's Song" Disney drink 61. Make "Glass Slipper" Disney drink 62. Make "Belle of the Ball" Disney drink 63. Make all the recipes from the I Quit Sugar cookbook 64. Make homemade fried chicken 65. Make caramel apple jello shots 66. Make the Grey Stuff from The Beauty and the Beast 67. Make homemade California rolls 68. Make all the recipes in the Unofficial Harry Potter Cookbook 69. Make candy apples 70. Bake a baked Alaska 71. Cook lobster 72. Make tiramisu 73. Bake Boston cream pie 74. Make homemade basil pesto 75. Roast pumpkin seeds 76. Finish my red recipe book 77. Bake lemony blueberry cheesecake bars 78. Make Sims Bouillabaisse (in real life) 79. Make Sims Goopy Carbonara (in real life) 80. Make Mexican tostadas 81. Make 365 new recipes 82. Cook every single recipe in a cook book 83. Make all recipes from the Swap & Drop Diet Cookbook 84. Do a chopped competition with Daniel 85. Make fruit sushi 86. Make "Sleep Cycle" Disney drink 87. Make "False King" Disney drink 88. Make "Ohana Colada" Disney drink 89. Make all recipes from the Cooking Light Global Kitchen cookbook 90. Make Sims Porcini Risotto (in real life) 91. Have a meal at Bistro Praha 92. Go to Dinner Theatre 93. Eat at Cafe Bicyclette 94. Have lunch at Ampersand 27 95. Eat at Cafe Linnea 96. Eat at Earnest's at NAIT 97. Go on a gelato date 98. Have dessert from the Italian Bakery Edmonton 99. Eat at the 3 Bananas Cafe 100. Eat at Dorinku 101. Try a Po'Boy 102. Eat deep fried ice cream 103. Eat at Have Mercy 104. Have lunch at the Harvest Room at Hotel MacDonald 105. Have dinner on the Edmonton Queen Riverboat 106. Try La Poutine 107. Have breakfast at Under the High Wheel 108. Have dessert at Block 1912 109. Eat at Uccellino 110. Go out for hungover breakfast the morning after a party with friends 111. Read "The Devil in the White City" by Erik Lawson 112. Read "Water for Elephants" by Sara Gruen and watch the movie 113. Read "Blood, Sweat, and Fear" by Eva Lazarus 114. Read "It" by Stephen King and watch the movie 115.  Read "Labor Day" by Eleanor Henderson 116. Read "Three Day Road" by Joseph Boyden 117. Read "The Girl on the Train" by Paula Hawkins and watch the movie 118. Read "They Left Us Everything" by Plum Johnson 119. Read "The House Girl" by Tara Conklin 120. Read all 36 books from the Dear Canada series 121. Read "My Lovely Wife in the Psych Ward: A Memoir" by Mark Lukach 122. Read all 54 books from the fictional Magic Tree House Series 123. Read “13 Reasons Why” by Jay Asher and watch the series 124. Read “Dolores Claiborne” by Stephen King 125. Read “We Need To Talk About Kevin” by Lionel Shriver 126. Read all 51 books from the Adventures of the Bailey School Kids series 127. Read “Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers” by Mary Roach 128. Read “The Shift: One Nurse, Twelve Hours, Four Patients Lives” by Theresa Brown 129. Read “Working Stiff: by Judy Melinek and TJ Mitchell 130. Read “Every Patient Tells a Story” by Lisa Sanders 131. Read “The Night Shift” by Dr Brian Goldman 132. Read “Wenjack” by Joseph Boyden 133. Read “The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat” by Oliver Sacks 134. Read “Weird Edmonton” by Mark Kozub 135. Read “11/22/63” by Stephen King 136. Re-read Lemony Snickets A Series of Unfortunate Events series 137. Read all 20 Royal Diaries books 138. Read all the books from the Dear America series 139. Read “End of Watch” by Stephen King 140. Read “I, Ripper” by Stephen Hunter 141. Read “Happyface” by Stephen Edmond 142.  Read “The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian” by Sherman Alexie 143. Read “The Mighty Miss Malone” by Curtis 144. Read “In The Unlikely Event” by Judy Blume 145. Read “Church of Marvels” by Leslie Parry 146. Read “My Secret Sister” by Helen Edwards 147. Read “The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society” by Annie Barrows 148. Read “The Book of Negroes” by Lawrence Hill & watch the movie 149.  Read “The Real Doctor Will See You Shortly” by Matt McCarthy 150. Read “Nerd Do Well” by Simon Pegg 151. Read “Wild” by Cheryl Strayd and watch the movie 152. Read “I Am Malala” by Malala Yousafzai 153. Read “The Book Thief’ by Markus Zusak and watch the movie 154. Read “Welcome to Nightvale” by Joseph Fink and listen to all podcasts 155. Read “1984” by George Orwell 156. Read “Nightmares!” by Jason Segal and Kirsten Miller 157. Read “The Bazaar of Bad Dreams” by Stephen King 158. Read “Finders Keepers” by Stephen King 159. Read the Little Old Lady Series 160. Read “Mr Mercedes” by Stephen King 161. Read “Left Neglected” by Lisa Genova 162. Read “Doctor Sleep” by Stephen King 163.  Read “Bringing Adam Home” by Les Standiford 164. Read “Carry On” by Rainbow Rowell 165. Read “Being Mortal” by Atul Gawande 166. Read “A Spy Amongst Friends” by Ben Macintyre 167. Read “Still Alice” by Lisa Genova and watch the movie 168. Read “Five Days at Memorial” by Sheri Fink 169. Read “Canada” by Mike Myers 170. Read “Behind the Beautiful Forevers” by Katherine Boo 171. Read “Quiet: The Power of Introverts” by Susan Cain 172. Read “The Haunting of Sunshine Girl” by Paige Mckenzie 173. Read “Dirty Jobs” and “Second Hand Souls” by Christopher Moore 174. Read “My Sister’s Keeper” and watch the movie 175. Read “Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea” by April Genevive Tucholke 176. Read “Four Past Midnight” by Stephen King 177. Read “Hope: A Memoir of Survival in Cleveland” by Amanda Berry and Gina DeJesus 178. Read “Anya’s Ghost” by Vera Brosgol 179. Read “Trauma” 180. Read “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” by JK Rowling and watch the movie 181. Read “This is That Travel Guide to Canada” 182. Read “The Trouble with Goats and Sheep” by Joanne Cannor 183. Read “Tough Shit” by Kevin Smith 184. Read “Tales of Beedle the Bard” by JK Rowling 185. Read “The Trouble with Alice” by Olivia Glazebrook 186. Read “The 100 Mile Diet: A Year of Local Eating” by Alisa Smith & JB MacKinnon 187. Read “At Home in Old Strathcona” by Gwen McGregor Molnar 188. Read “The Tumbling Turner Sisters” by J. Fay 189. Read “The Dangerous Animals Club” by S. Tobolowsky 190. Read “The Book of Speculation” by E. Swyler 191. Read “The Nurses” by Alexandra Robbins 192. Read “Shine Shine Shine” by Lydia Netzer 193. Read “Life of Pi” by Yann Martel and watch the movie 194. Read the EC Wells series 195. Read “Scrappy Little Nobody” by Anna Kendrick 196. Read “The First Phone Call From Heaven” by Mitch Albom 197. Read “Hope’s Boy” by Andrew Bridge 198. Read “The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August” by Claire North 199. Read “The House At the End of Hope Street” by Menna Van Praag 200. Read “Home” by Harlan Coben 201. Tour the Saskatchewan Science Center 202. Visit the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park 203. Visit the Atomic Bomb Dome in Japan 204. Visit the Dead Sea of Saskatchewan (Little Manitou) 205. Tour the Royal Canadian Mint 206. Visit the Eskimo Museum in Churchill 207. Visit Prime Berth Fishing Museum in Twillingate 208. Go to the Barbie Expo in Montreal 209. Visit the Acadian Historical Village in Caraquet 210. Visit the Tokyo National Museum 211. Visit the Owl Café in Akhabara 212. Go to the Tokyo Studio Ghibli Museum 213. Visit the Manitoba Museum in Winnipeg 214. Visit the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum 215. See a Sunset Retreat Ceremony at the RCMP Heritage Center in Regina 216. Visit the Canadian Museum of History in Quebec 217. See Head-Smash-In Buffalo Jump in Fort McLeod 218. Visit the Shinjuku Goen National Garden in Japan 219. See Niagra Falls 220. Visit the Gopher Hole Museum in Torrington 221. Visit Ripley’s Aquarium of Canada in Toronto 222. Visit the Royal Ontario Museum 223. Do the Underground Tour at Bell Island’s Mine Museum 224. Visit the Samurai Museum in Japan 225. Visit Leo Mol Sculpture Garden in Winnipeg 226. See a show at the Regina Globe Theater 227. Visit the Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21 in Halifax 228. Visit the Canadian Museum for Human Rights 229. Visit the Canadian Museum of Nature in Ottawa 230. Visit the Fort George National Historic Site of Canada at Niagara-on-the-Lake 231. Go to Science North in Sudbury 232. Take a photo with the Hachiko statue in Tokyo 233. Go to the national Museum of Nature and Science in Tokyo 234. Visit the Amsterdam Cheese Museum 235. Visit the Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Museum in Japan 236. Catch all Fourth Gen Pokemon Go Pokemon 237. Catch all Second Gen Pokemon Go Pokemon 238. Catch all Third Gen Pokemon Go Pokemon 239. Successfully do winged eyeliner 240. Have a yard sale 241. Grow Lavender 242. Go scuba diving 243. Go rock climbing 244. Go through the Edmonton Corn Maze 245. Attend a Superstore cooking class 246. Bowl a 100+ game 247. Catch a fish 248. Dye my hair blonde 249. Go ice fishing 250. Tour Candy Cane Lane 251. Find 5 Geocaches 252. Go paintballing 253. See the stars at an observatory 254. Go on a double date 255. Can something with mom 256. Play through Fran Bow 257. Visit Dr Woods House Museum 258. Grow parsley 259. Go on a bike ride around Telford Lake 260. Solve a Rubik’s cube 261. Grow oregano 262. Pick berries from a berry farm 263. Host a holiday dinner for family 264. Plant a Tree 265. Skip rocks with Daniel 266. Do yoga outside at sunrise 267. Go horseback riding 268. Go to the Deep Freeze Festival 269. Learn how to edit photographs 270. Get a hot stone massage 271. Pose for a nude painting 272. Complete a 642 Things to Draw Journal 273. Be in a boudoir photoshoot 274. Get ears pierced again 275. Learn Under the Sea on xylophone 276. Learn calligraphy 277. Go roller blading 278. See a moose in the wild 279. Learn Over the Rainbow on ukulele 280. Pick a pumpkin at Upick 281. Build a fire 282. Complete Wreck this Journal 283. Build a sandcastle 284. Build a snowman 285. Complete a 1000 Piece Puzzle 286. Get all Pokemon Go medals 287. Try a sensory deprivation chamber 288. Sew all badges on my camp blanket 289. Sign a petition 290. Camp at Elk Island Provincial Park 291. Tour the Alberta Legislature Building 292. Go apple picking 293. Go hostelling in Nordegg 294. Photograph a robin 295. Photograph a blue jay 296. Go to the ballet 297. Go to a hot spring in winter 298. Plant a Fairy Garden 299. Fully decorate apartment for Halloween 300. Go to another TWOS Dark Matters Night 301. Go to the Muttart Conservatory 302. Play through Beyond Two Souls 303. Watch an outdoor movie 304. Go to the John Walters museum 305. Body paint with Daniel 306. Take a class at the Greenland Garden Center 307. Go Canoeing 308. Play a game of chess 309. Play laser tag 310. Have a girls night 311. Go to a drop in class at the Art Gallery of Alberta 312. Send out Christmas cards 313. Reach level 40 of Pokemon Go 314. Visit the Reynolds-Alberta Museum 315. Go on a Canmore Cave Tour 316. Get a couples massage 317. Have a game night at Table Top Café 318. See a live show at the Roxy 319. Shoot a Gun 320. Juggle 3 balls 321. Pick a door lock 322. See a Rapidfire Theater show 323. Dance on my balcony with Daniel as it gently rains 324. Go to a driving range 325. Write a love letter 326. Go to a U of A varsity game 327. Go to the new Royal Alberta museum 328. Go to a hockey game 329. Go to a football game 330. See the Nutcracker Ballet 331. Play at Breakout Edmonton 332. Complete a coloring book 333. Go peddle boating 334. Visit the Alberta Aviation Museum 335. Visit the Jurassic Forest 336. Play slots at a casino 337. Go skating 338. Try to escape The Cabin at Escape City 339. Complete my Sims challenge 340. Get a BBQ and have a BBQ with friends 341. Tube down the Pembina river 342. Get a facial 343. Take a class at Purdy’s Chocolates 344. Do a "Disney Love" photoshoot with Daniel 345. Grow a carrot plant 346. Fit size 6 pants 347. Do 100 consecutive push ups 348. Hold Kala Bhairavasana (yoga) 349. Hold Sirsasana (Yoga) 350. Do 100 Consecutive Sit Ups 351. Reach goal weight of 120 lb 352. Walk 20 000 steps for 3 consecutive days 353. Attend a drop in spin class 354. Buy and eat only local food (produce, meat, etc) for 30 consecutive days 355. Try hot yoga 356. Hold Crow Pose (Yoga) 357. Complete 12 months to a healthier you challenge 358. See a movie at Princess Theatre 359. Go to the Edmonton Film Fest 360. See a movie and have dinner at the VIP theatre 361. Watch Rotten Tomatoes Top 100 Musical and Art Movies 362. Watch the Rotten Tomatoes Top 200 Movies of 2018 363. Watch Rotten Tomatoes Top 100 movies of 2017 364. Watch Rotten Tomatoes Top 100 Documentary films 365. Watch Rotten Tomatoes Top 100 Comedy Movies