#I do not have the practise and even though I intend to start ironing more often this is not a beginner's project

[the-busy-ghost]

Ah yes, the dream £10 vintage Laura Ashley skirt (made in Great Britain), in good quality corduroy

The dream skirt that requires a fucking PHD in ironing

[concerningwolves]

Hey! Do you have any tips for breaking writers block when you're adhd and/or autistic? Be it your own tips or a link to another post? My friend and I need help haha

Ahh sorry you got buried under spam and old ask game asks. (I... really need to sort my ask box >.<' ). But here we go, a month late, and hopefully better late than never:

Quick ideas for beating writer's block when autistic and/or ADHD

I've got this old post I wrote on writer's block and focus troubles. Ironically, this was before my autism diagnosis but the tips still happen to be things I, an autistic person, did to manage writing when faced with executive dysfunction (except I didn't know what executive dysfunction was at that point lol). I'm linking this with one important caveat, though: if you have ADHD, "stepping away" might do more harm than good; struggling to start tasks is a Big Thing with ADHD, so not starting the task at all is entirely counterproductive. (Unless you're in burnout! Here's a post about the differences between block and burnout with some ideas on what to do for each, in case that's at all helpful to you).

And here's something yoinked from another old ask-answer:

sometimes a break from more “serious” writing is what you need. Maybe try and take the characters from your main project and drop them somewhere else for the hell of it. I like to throw my characters into the MCU without warning like “lmao have fun in a strange modern world where there are gods and a guy in an iron flying suit bye.” Or, if fandom cross-overs aren’t your thing, find a writing prompt or take an idea you like and use it to form a short story with your characters instead.

Some other ideas I've seen around for writer's block with ADHD/Autism are:

Try voice recording or text to speech (i.e., absolute stream-of-consciousness unfiltered brain-to-mouth, giving yourself permission to 100% bullshit if you like, and see what rattles loose in the brain box)

Stream of consciousness writing in general, not even necessarily about a particular prompt or particular project. This one can be done in combination with:

Writing sprints! One minute timers, two minute timers, five minutes – set it for as long as you want, but when you're fighting executive dysfunction and/or difficulty focusing, the burst of urgency that comes from a shorter timer is very helpful.

And speaking of the sense of urgency: gamify your writing! There are different ways to do this, with varying elements of risk. I'll link some ways to do this at the end under "resources".

Exercise. I don't necessarily mean hitting the gym, but a quick burst of exercise prior to writing to get the heart rate up can help wake your brain up a bit. (Or, if you find repetitive exercise mind-numbingly boring like I do, the writing sure does start to look appealing lol).

Meditation. Okay, this one is sort of 🤔 for me, because I do often hear from fellow autistics and our ADHD cousins that meditation is literally impossible for us. It is for me. But! Like with exercise above, if meditation bores you instead of helping relax and ""clear your mind"", you can probably use that boredom to your advantage. Or, it might work as intended.

Change your workspace/situation/routine. Sometimes the problem is that you need new sensory input, or that your brain has gotten thoroughly bored and decided not to tell you. Use a different chair. Move to the kitchen table. Write at a different time of day. Have a different snack (or try having a snack while writing...). Basically, look at what you're currently trying, and see how you can do it differently.

It's also really good practise to get comfortable with Being Bad At Writing. Perfectionism and Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria are the biggest, meanest brain weasels with the sharpest teeth. Don't let them bully you. It sucks. It takes a lot of time and effort and internal work, which is why I was loathe to include this on a post of quick solutions, but. It is important.

And getting comfortable with this doesn't necessarily mean learning how to accept critique, or accepting that sometimes you'll write things that suck. It means accepting that sometimes you won't handle critique or feedback well, and also accepting that you won't always manage to beat the writer's block or be productive. Sometimes you have to make peace with the fact that you're going to feel horrible, feel your feelings, and try to remind yourself on the other side that none of it means you're a talentless hack.

Resources

Anything with a 🪙 next to it is paid only (I've tried to limit these and find alternatives).

The resources are split into things that "gameify" writing (i.e., hack your dopamine/serotonin in ways that reaaaaallly help autistic and ADHD folks), writing programs that are designed to help you focus, writing programs that track your habits and appeal to the "ohhhh numbers going up" brain, focus-aiding apps, and some miscellaneous stuff. Under the cut to save your dashes.

"Gamifying" your writing:

The Most Dangerous Writing App – You can't stop typing before your set timer runs out, or you risk losing your work. Excellent for warming up, stream-of-consciousness, or if you're feeling reckless, working on your actual project. I did a lot of the second draft of When Dealing with Wolves on this thing (it was terrifying yet highly effective).

Written? Kitten! – Get rewarded for meeting your set writing wordcount with kitten pictures. Haven't used this one personally, but heard wonderful things about it.

4TheWords 🪙 – This one gamifies writing in the most literal sense. As in, it's an online game where you defeat monsters, explore and level up by writing words. I did the free trial a couple years back, and I've heard there are a lot of different ways you can lower the subscription cost. The only reason I haven't gone back to it is because I feel like I can't justify spending money on it when I'm doing fine with Scrivener and free resources, but maybe one day I will purely for the fun factor...

StimuWrite – similar idea to Written Kitten; the app provides visual/audio stimulation while you write, which is great for many ADHD-ers and autistics. There's a progress bar, soundscape options, typing effects and emoji reactions as rewards, among other features.

Write or Die – This is The Most Dangerous Writing App meets Written Kitten. As far as I can figure out, the basic web version is free to use; you can set the parameters like how how long you want to write for, how many words to reach, and whether you want rewards for meeting goals or punishments for failing to meet them. There's also a stimulus mode, where the nice auditory stimulus goes away if you stop writing.

Minimalist/Focus writing programs:

Focus Writer [Windows] – thoroughly stripped-down minimalist word processor. As far as I know, it has basic functions like find-replace, but mostly it's designed only for writing. Not for formatting, spellchecking or editing.

iA Writer 🪙 [iOS] – Similar to Focus Writer, it's designed to fill your screen with a simple workspace. Allows you to use markdown formatting, and has a feature called Focus Mode that blurs out everything except the sentence you're typing. (If I could find a Windows-friendly alternative to this with that same feature I would be so happy). A cheaper alternative is 1Writer, but that doesn't have the focus mode.

Typewrite Something – Absolutely bare minimum web-based typewriter simulator. Basically just a blank screen that you start typing on, and the words appear in a typewriter font. Great for stream-of-consciousness without the risk level of TMDWA because you can't backspace. If you don't like the clacky sound, turn off your volume.

Focus Apps

Cold Turkey – Block applications and websites on your laptop/computer for a specified period of time. You can even block the entire internet.

Forest – Similar to Cold Turkey in that it stops you from seeking distractions or getting distracted. Set a timer and the app starts growing a tree. If you leave the app, the tree dies. Once you have a tree, you add it to your forest.

Habit-building writing programs:

Novlr – Simple, minimal layout, and tracks your writing goals per month and day, and your daily streak. There are more features in the plus and pro versions, and you can only have five projects in the free version, but otherwise it looks like a good free alternative to the next two programs:

750 Words 🪙 – Made for free writing, but also very useful for drafting. I had it for a month or so a while back on the free trial. It tracks writing streaks and gives you fun graphs and statistics at the end of each session, including number of distractions, actual typing time vs total time and average words per minute. Also, it analyses the mood of what you wrote, which I always found delightful.

Writing Analytics 🪙 – If writing streaks, badges and analytical graphs get your dopamine going, then I really recommend this one. The writing screen itself is very minimalistic, but it still shows your writing speed (I loved watching that go up) and your goal progress. In terms of analytics, it tracks a LOT of different things, including time spent writing vs revising, average wordcounts per day/month/year, and words written vs words deleted. I used this for about a year before I switched to Scrivener, and the switch was purely because I needed something that wasn't subscription-based. (Apparently since I stopped using it there's also a new feature that lets you create private writing rooms and see other writer's progress).

Misc.

WriteTrack – Not a word processor, but it has very good tools for tracking and planning your writing. Again, if graphs going up helps your brain, this is excellent, but you can't see it in real time.

10 ADHD-friendly brain tricks for writers – what it says on the tin: ten tips for writers with ADHD; I'm particularly fond of "Put away one knife", which breaks the nebulous task of "start writing" into something really simple like just... pull out your desk chair.

[bbnibini]

Fall Again (Kaedehara Kazuha)

"On this mountain path, where the red leaves lifeless lie...my heart calls for a companion, echoing the deer's cry..." (based on this)

(ao3 version) gift for @lexsssu and kei. may this humble offering make you future Kazuha havers!

The summer we shared

Fades into a blush of leaves

Bringing with it fall

Your first memories with Kazuha started when you were little. You were but one of the many children brought by the Kaedahara retainers staying within the residence; frolicking about, living the best of your young life while learning of your future duties for the clan. The end of summer brought cooler winds, and the trees in the courtyard were like blushing maidens as their leaves were dyed in sunset colour. A maple leaf had fallen on your hair, and the steady sleight of his hand startled you when he brought it to your eye level with a smile.

"I'm sorry for startling you. It was stuck on your hair."

You weren't even sure if you were allowed to talk so casually to the young master of the house. Though perhaps your younger self back then knew that a boy your age like the young master didn't care for such formalities. He only ever watches from afar as you played with the other children. Sometimes, his gaze lingers at all of you while he was taking his lessons. But when his attendants will ask him worriedly if he wanted to drive you and the other children away(you must have been so noisy to distract him from his lessons), he would plaster on a smile and decline.

"Do you want to play with us?"

You practised saying it in your head many, many times...but they were never said. Not until this moment--this blurry middleground of summer and fall that seemed to dye everything in sunset orange.

"Do you want to play with me?"

It was his turn to look startled. The way his face flushed as he clumsily tried to hide the bashful look he had with the maple leaf had been futile.

"Can I?"

You nodded and took his hand.

"Don't worry, master Kazuha. I'll share the blame with you if they ever find out."

Thinking back, that must be the start of it all. Like maple leaves falling on the ground, letting him in your heart had been your downfall.

In the many days of sunset orange, when the adults were too busy to even bother, laughter from a certain pair would fill the courtyard. It was warm enough to quell the cold that accumulated as the orange faded into powder white; it had also brought an end to those precious memories you didn't know you were already making with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cold and pristine white

Yet seeing you amongst them

Warms my freezing heart

He didn't do anything special. You understood that it was just him being him. His kindhearted parents raised him well to become the future heir, and you were merely basking in the fruits of their gentle guidance--an ordinary bystander. Even so, with every call of your name, with every smile given your way, with every look and every word, the feelings that scattered one autumn day only deepened, much like how the snow was doing right now to your feet.

You knew that they knew. You awaited the punishments to come your way, but they never did. The pang in your heart twisted and twisted; it wondered if your delusions were getting to you. What if you continued holding on? What if you got even closer with each other? Wouldn't it be more painful if this unlikely friendship would continue?

Or so you thought. You didn't have the heart to push him away--this lonely looking boy who never shared your luxuries of carefree childhood. Yet you knew you could never share these worries with him. What were you to him but some child his age? What could you know? No one seemed opposed to it, so why couldn't he enjoy his childhood, even for a little bit?

Your drifting thoughts matched the steady pacing of your feet. And it wasn't until the cold snow had reached your knees did you start to feel it through your clothes.

Where...were you? The firewood on your shoulders felt heavier every step, and the cold of winter was beckoning you to close your eyes; to rest under the pine trees a few steps away from you....just for a while--

"...!"

The call of your name coming from his lips felt like they were melting the snow on your feet. And as he brought you into his arms, the restlessness also melted away.

"Let's go back."

"Young Master Kazuha..."

You heard your name being called again--this time by your worried father who had just known that you strayed from the group of children gathering firewood in the forest. He brought the two of you in embrace, his broad and strong arms feeling unbelievably smaller than usual.

Even as the two of you were being scolded, it didn't feel so bad. His next words echoed your unsaid sentiments.

"We share the blame, after all."

He whispered the familiar words to you on secret, bringing warmth to the winter of your thoughts.

You didn't know what changed that winter. He now stood with you as you and the other children gathered around and played in the snow, laughing along. Gone were the longing gazes he sent your way, as he was finally there. The apprehension the other children had at first disappeared instantly at the brightness of his laughter.

From then on, you wished to stay by his side....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your gaze of knowing

Melts away the cold of snow

Spring begins anew

...yet even with the strength of your resolve, you knew those fun winter days will come to an end. One winter passed. Two. Three, until you lost count--you have grown old enough for such days to be regarded as your long past childhood. Along with it came the responsibilities you had as a retainer's child. It wasn't like you were going away. You planned to uphold your promise to stay by his side until the day you die. Boundaries were only meant to be made. The lines you weren't meant to cross grew even more obvious as seasons passed, and you only intended to follow along its path.

Young master Kazuha was old enough to take in a wife. He could only delay such duties for so long.

"But I don't want to get married." He told you, admiring the pink mop of cherry blossoms giving you shade overhead.

"Young master, it isn't a matter of choice." you scolded.

He wouldn't say anything back but a sigh. This caused you to sigh in return.

"Even servants have a duty of marriage to sustain future generations, young master."

"Even you?"

The rustling of cherry blossoms awoken you from your trance. You pretended not to know the implications of his questions. The pounding of your heart shouldn't ever be known, not even to the whispers of spring breeze scattering pink petals that looked eerily similar the the ones scattering in your heart.

"Yes, even I."

Ignorance is the kindest gesture you can return to him--for knowing what he meant will only lead to a thorny path.

Spring was the season of beginnings, but even you know such beginnings were only possible if something were to end.

"Young master Kazuha?"

He looked at you with the same gaze you pretended you were numb from.

"Let's not see each other anymore."

...it was a beautiful spring day, but you couldn't help but long for the harsh winters of your gentler past.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Standing tall and proud

You, with gleaming golden crowns

Waiting for the sun

Eternity.

In the land of fleeting beauty, only she remains constant. She was the pinnacle of Inazuma's legacy, as well as its stronghold. With the Raiden Shogun's rule, Inazuma in all its transience will remain with her.

Yet, were all her actions at present excusable?

The Kaedehara clan had fallen--its tragic heir had gone missing. No one knows where he had went...or so that is what most of the servants' narratives were, but you knew. Perhaps silence is the only way to protect him; their kind and gentle young master deserved freedom in this eternal land.

You didn't want to dwell on what ifs. In the blaring heat of the sun, among the sunflowers looking up at its radiance, he stood there, even brighter than summer itself.

He called for your name as he took your hands, kissing its back.

"I will always remember you."

He was a free man, freer than he was in the confines of his samurai household. Yet, you knew his life of pursuit will always remain with him, and the eternity the Raiden's land had promised was far too comforting to even consider the thoughts in your head.

'Take me with you'

'I won't ever forget you too.'

'Ị̶̛̺̜̣̝̰̣͚̫̓̾̈́̆̈́̊̔̍͂͋͛͌͘͝ ̵̢̨͉̟͖̱͚̆̐̏̚l̷͖̥̃͋͒̉̈́̈̎̃͆̽̈͊̃̈́̆̓̕o̶̡̧̡͖͙̖̙͙̥̻͍̣̗̱͖̦͍̺͙̒̏̏͛͗̌̄͊̽̓͆͌̚̚̕͝ͅv̶̧͕͔̤͚̰̟͙̭̟̠̫̞̀͆̊͗͗̅̊͠ͅͅę̶̘̦̲͓͕͂̑̕͜ ̷̡̢̯̯͙̞̣̲̥̥̞̞̺͕̲͔̆̂͆́̋̑̀̆̃̀͐̀͜͝͠y̷̧̬̜͕͉̣͉̱̩͚̪͒̓͒ͅǒ̸͚̳̠͚̘̯̼̗̳͖͉̫͇͕͔̿͛̉̈́͌̈́͐̑͌͝u̵̧̡̖̼̺̼̯̖̙̲̺̰̮̩̯̜͛̑̃̐͊͛͌̌̓͋́̒̌̚͜'

So he waited and waited for the three words he uttered on your ear to return, and even then, promised of waiting even as you parted ways--even if orange dyed the world around you again.

For like the sunflowers, you were his sun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many summers have passed, and you had left the comfort of eternity to seek out the world on your own. The Raiden Shogun and her eternity was showing its signs of fading in ironic tragedy. Yet you wondered why such fleetingness felt comforting instead.

They called the land you chose to reside in the City of Freedom. Their ruling archon was nothing more than myths and childlike wonder, yet Mondstadt thrived even in their absence.

Like the carefree breeze, its people were equally so. They did not mind your origins nor your reasons, and instead welcomed you in their land with kindness and hospitality. Often, you wondered if the Anemo Archon chose this path of rule to embody the freedom that he is--that perhaps, this might be even his wish.

"I received a vision! It's--"

You smiled to yourself as you stopped that train of thought. You knew your reasons for choosing Mondstadt as your new refuge. Deep in your heart, you were waiting too.

Rain was quite an unusual sight in Monstadt--you were far too used to sunlight and breezy afternoons that the sight of darker skies were comforting to you instead. You liked the sound rain made as it hit the roof, the smell of petrichor in the air--

"Hello?"

Such appreciative thoughts were brought to a halt at the sound of a familiar voice. But he did not speak again, so you weren't sure if you have imagined it instead. The knocks on your door however, reassured you that not everything you heard was imagined.

Your heart pounded at every step, silencing yourself from the hopeful yearning that keeps on resurfacing as you went closer to your doorstep.

But he was there. He wasn't only hopeful yearning. The orange hues of the trees from afar only seemed to deepen the sunset reflecting on his eyes. They widened as they gazed at you.

"I'm very sorry, but can I trouble you for refuge for the night?"

Laughter. You haven't shared one since that distant, summer day. You took the stray maple leaf out of his hair and echoed the words he had uttered to you on the day you first met.

"Did I startle you? You have it stuck on your hair."

..but this time, you chose to stay by his side.

That night, I listened to the hymns till dawn, not for serenity, but to seek a sliver of your soul;

That month, I flipped through all the scriptures, not for enlightenment, but to touch the pages where your fingers once lingered;

That year, I knelt on the grounds, my head embracing the dusts, not to pay obeisance to the Gods, but to feel the warmth you left behind;

That life, I wandered through ten thousand great mountains, not in search for an afterlife, but to cross paths with you – 

[paradife-loft]

In the blood orange sky

Well. Does anybody remember a couple months ago when I made this post? Because apparently I’ve been thinking about it a fair bit.

And also thinking about... maybe doing a thing? A thing that involves writing various vignettes as I’m moved to, very low pressure, but all in the same continuity, about sequences of various events that are related to one another and a central premise...? So kind of maybe like a “multi-chapter fic” as they call them, but y’know. No particular goals for “finishing” something, or requiring they be in chronological order or any other strict structure binding them together. Just exploring things for fun, and I’ll see where it goes!

But yes, so, I have written a bit this week that I think does what I would like for a first portion of something like this, and... here it is!

1.4k words, Xiyao, post-canon, dark-ish mystery/intrigue/character and relationship exploration I guess?; warnings for injury and general unpleasant body stuff, and also unpleasant mental health stuff, and also discussed off-screen (mass) murder.

*

When he comes to this time, he is sitting - propped up in the gentle rays of early sun against something he can vaguely identify as soft, with enough give to cradle his shoulders. That alone is a departure from each time previous… and Jin Guangyao supposes he ought to be thankful he continues to wake up at all; that his condition upon doing so this one time at least is no longer face-down, body practically smeared into the dirt.

An unpleasant prickling in one of his legs prompts him to open his eyes again, lift his head from where it’d fallen back against a pillow. His neck throbs with the motion. He sees a pair of hands - familiar enough that the distortions between his sight now and his memories cannot help but unsettle him - moving steadily with needle and thread through a deep rent in his left calf.

Ah. That would explain that particular discomfort, then.

Viewing the sight on top of feeling the muted, distant sensation it evokes, gives him the perverse and contrarian instinct to kick out and abort the effort of cleaning him up as it’s only partway done - but he recognises well enough that it would be a waste, and even now he isn’t so far gone as that. And he doesn’t want his leg to remain ruined. And to repair it himself now would be… possible, but far more difficult.

All arguments he has to pull out in front of his mind’s eye, like a text one might recite, to convince himself not to protest this time; but he does hold himself still, does remain for the time being a silent, compliant patient.

(Not entirely still, he must admit: his eyes follow the tiny shifts in those hands, trying to reconcile the absence of both manicured care, and the unique pattern of callused ridges he had memorised once upon a time. And yet more important, more incorrect when compared to the state he is familiar with: Lan Xichen has never known how to sew.)

(And yet. And yet.)

He presses his lips together as Xichen approaches the completion of the task, drawing the words he resents needing to speak up like pitchers of water from a drying well. They crowd his tongue, sour the inside of his mouth.

"I take it you found me quickly this time, after your target was done with me?"

Lan Xichen starts when he hears his voice, head jumping up and eyes round. Jin Guangyao had not taken him to be so absorbed that he hadn't even noticed him waking, but -

(He should have, perhaps.)

Xichen's expression hardens into something resigned after that, the dam holding back a great dredged mass of displeasure. Pain and anger in a hundred or more shades, silt and loam and sand.

"You tore apart the gravesites of three prominent clans, scattering the bones, and then did the same with the bodies of their living families when they came to drive out the robbers who defiled their ancestors' remains. The entire village has been terrified since last night. The news was not difficult to follow."

Jin Guangyao resists the urge to close his eyes, staring down the spray of blood to his face with the same dispassion he once used to with regularity. He is out of practise, however: he can't stop the reflexive flinch in his mouth, or his one remaining hand. It curls stiffly in the blankets pushed to one side of the bed pallet.

It’s not that he hadn't expected something along these lines, from the moment he’d woken up and taken in his surroundings. He hadn’t particularly relished the anticipation of hearing it, and so allowed himself a few moments watching Lan Xichen work in silence before disturbing him, it’s true - but he regrets the pain and exhaustion on Xichen's face and in the set of his shoulders and limbs more than he cares to spend his sympathy on another (inevitable) group of dead strangers.

He glances down at the long column of stitches holding the greying flesh of his leg together around the bone, and wonders which hapless, doomed villager from this new feat of resentful destruction had managed to inflict the injury.

"So it didn't require all that much searching, then. Nobody was angry with you, stealing away with the corpse that had killed all those people instead of burning it?"

"Not enough to express it to me. I imagine it helped that I spent several hours in the interim helping right the disturbed graves, and set wards around several of the neighboring houses," Xichen replies. Stress still lines his eyes, flickering more prominent like a candle flame as he speaks. Reconstructing the sequence of events implied, Jin Guangyao feels a twinge of - something - surprise, or hurt? he can't quite say - that Xichen had apparently seen fit this time to seal him away and then leave him, presumably alone, for some significant time afterward, while he tended to the village. Even though it was presumably an effective distraction, not to mention well-deserved.

"I was intending on returning this afternoon, to add more wards to some of the other houses, and suppress any other spirits roused in the process,” Xichen adds. Half an afterthought, half an explanation.

The emotion, whatever it is, crystallizes into a spike of irritation. "Temporary wards aren't going to be enough to turn away a determined corpse-raiser of this strength if he has unfinished vendettas against anybody left there," replies Jin Guangyao, snappish.

Lan Xichen’s lips thin. "I would still prefer to comfort some of their fears, however unrealistically, in the time before the problem has been solved, than leave them with no help or explanation at all after such a loss."

Jin Guangyao knows this. Agrees with it, even; it had been one of many principles they shared in the nighthunts they used to investigate. If Lan Xichen is frustrated at having to reiterate such a thing to him specifically, rather than in general, it doesn't show amidst everything else on his face.

He does stand though, turning away from the bed, tucking the medical supplies he’d been using back into their pouch and going to check on an iron kettle perched over a fire.

“Where are we?” Jin Guangyao asks, preferring the abrupt change of subject to a continuation of the prior topic. Xichen glances back at him - not for long.

“The abandoned house of one of the walking corpses I suppressed a few months ago,” he replies. He pours hot water into a skin, tying it off, and then another steaming portion into a tea pot - drab by Gusu Lan standards, but still likely worth more than the entire roof they’re under. “Don’t get up on that leg yet; you’ll split it open.”

Silence clouds between them, as Jin Guangyao stops shifting his way toward the edge of the bed pallet and lets the leg stretch out in front of him, holding back his weight against his arm. His fingers itch.

He’s asked Lan Xichen before, how long he’s been living like this, although not in those terms; and Lan Xichen has responded only with obvious deflections, despite giving perfectly cogent answers to less savory questions, such as how he’s managed to take a room at an inn with a resentment-spilling corpse in tow. There are many people in need with no one else to turn to throughout the countryside. A simple glamour works well enough when neither the inkeep nor other patrons are cultivators. Spending nights at the house left abandoned after a prior nighthunt certainly sidesteps the minor inconveniences of the latter, but leaves him even less sanguine about the former.

Would you rather neither of you were here at all, and in all likelihood even more people were dead? his own mind poses snidely, while he sits and watches Lan Xichen putting the hot compress over his lower leg, manually drawing up the blood in his body toward the region. He sips the cup of medicinal brew pressed into his hands, despite strong doubt in its capacity to do anything now for him in particular.

When he can acutely feel the spiritual energy circulating through his through him - pushed by Xichen’s intent and core, urging tissue to repair itself in the same way it would in a living body - Jin Guangyao finally admits the need to push on the issue of what they both have surely understood by now.

“I need to come with when you leave,” he says. He doesn’t make it a suggestion.

Lan Xichen closes his eyes, and Jin Guangyao’s still heart seems to squeeze like a vise. Go back to Gusu! he wants to yell; fuck the villagers, and fuck whatever further bloody deaths he won’t be conscious enough to care about causing.

Lan Xichen only nods, like it pains him. “Yes. I suppose you do.”

[contextualstudieslorena]

IS BEING A PART OF THE LGBTQ+ COMMUNITY A TREND?

+Throughout the years’ many people are seen coming out as queer. And nowadays it is even more common to see queer characters in media as something that is becoming normalised. For example, in this early graph made by Gallup, (an American analytics and advisory company based in Washington, D.C.) we can see that the amount of people ‘coming out ‘ and identifying as a part of the LGBT community grows every year. Yet, it is seen to be more common in people who are born from 2002 to 1997, that being generation Z. After that, being Millenials, who are followed by generation X. Besides that, it can be seen that few traditionalists identify as LGBT, for a reason that I will be talking about in this essay.

We can also see in the graft that those numbers rise throughout the years. And why does this happen? Is it because Millennials and Gen Z started a new trend of being queer? Or is it because they feel more comfortable talking about issues that used to be hidden before.

Queer representation has indeed been growing a lot, if not in movies or magazines, Kids nowadays can spot a drag queen only looking through social media, or even Netflix, a Movie platform that has been seen adding a lot of queer characters to their movies and shows. If Netflix is doing a good job at bringing awareness and representation that is another conversation but compared to 10 years ago, it is noticeable that every day queer representation grows more and more.

Yet, the only place we can see this is in media, as there is not much of it in the regular history classes we have at school.

It is also important to note that kids can be very moldable. They spend more than 11 years of their life copying exactly everything they see, that being something positive or not. And that happens so often, that a boy died in Indonesia after trying to copy the fictional superhero Spider-Man. ‘Police are investigating if a five-year-old boy in Jakarta was trying to mimic Spider-Man after he jumped out a window to his death after being told he couldn’t watch the latest movie in the franchise.’. And as surprising as this can be, it shows kids and teenagers can be influenced by something so much, they will try to mimic it, which might be happening to all the Gen Z adults who grew up with media shoving down LGBT content down their throats. As well as that, they can also be following their friend’s choices to come out and can be even lying to their own selves for attention.

I could spend an enormous amount of time writing about how social media can affect peoples sexuality and gender but I’d rather do something more educating and look at the past. Where humans started coming together as tribes and living in a society, having to deal with the presence of each other and create romantic and social relationships.

When talking about same-gender relationships the queer community mentions how normal gay relationships are in nature. Petter Boeckman, Norweigan Zoologist would say that more than 1500 species of animals have been seen having some type of homosexual interaction, those not only being mammals but as Boeckman stated "We're talking about everything from mammals to crabs and worms. The actual number is of course much higher. Among some animals homosexual behaviour is rare, some having sex with the same gender only a part of their life, while other animals, such as the dwarf chimpanzee, homosexuality is practised throughout their lives." as well as that, he then compares chimpanzees to humans who identify as homosexual "If a female has sex with a male one time, but thousands of times with another female, is she bisexual or homosexual? This is the same way to have children is not unknown among homosexual people.". However, Petter wasn’t the only one who found homosexual interactions between animals, Kurt Kotrschal, a known biologist for researching these types of behaviours has confirmed that these ty pes of relationships are beneficial for the species.

I am mentioning animals not only to show that homosexuality is natural to other species but because they can be even more related to indigenous people.

Indigenous people are the ones who can be seen the most in contact with nature. They have decades of history of not having any contact with other human beings than the ones that were located in the same tribe as them, and as much as they would fight with other tribes and move around they still had their tribes, where they would create relationships in and settle their tents. They didn’t have any contact with books and science before the colonizers came in 1500 and even after that many tribes weren’t discovered by them in the middle of the Amazon forest, so many of them didn’t even get to be influenced by the Europeans and their racism and misogynistic views and homophobic religion.

The point I want to make is that indigenous people are the ones who are the closest to animals, and if they saw an animal do a homosexual interaction, they would probably see it as something that is intended to happen and not weird, as animals don’t have a perception of that is morally wrong or not. They are a part of nature, different from the Europeans who colonized them who were already influenced by the church and their extremist ideas. And as much as it would be wonderful to have indigenous people be so open-minded as they were, Colonization happened, and with that, so did a period where Europeans found the need to force their catholic beliefs on them, as well as bringing many diseases and suffering. Cieza de Leon, a chronicler of the conquest in Peru once said, and I quote ‘ Within a somewhat different framework. During the colonial years, indigenous morality changed, partly as a result of contact with the Europeans.’She also believes and argues that indigenous people had a spiritual justification for doing anal sex with their partners ( which is now seen as something Queer people are more familiar with), that being in a same-sex or straight relationship. This spiritual justification had to do with their religious beliefs. While Colonial Latin American societies would see anal sex within their own beliefs, Iberian societies would see sodomy as a way of showing male dominance.

There are not that many pieces of evidence of Queer indigenous people in history, as the colonizers would murder them and force them to stop being who they truly were. However, there’s an engraving that shows a little bit more about their experience as trans indigenous people in colonial times. In this engraving made by Theodor de Bry in 1594 as part of his Les Grands Voyages, we can see how this homophobia is well represented. In the art piece, 8 men are shown wearing noble clothes, and between them was Vasco Nunez de Balboa, a man known for being a Spanish nobleman who conquered Panama. But what is atrocious about this art piece is what is in front of them, 3 men being eaten alive by dogs after being demanded to do so by the nobleman, after being seen dressed as women. However, what is most ironic about this engraving is the way it’s presented, which plays when seeing the men standing above them. Who present themselves in a feminine way earring clothes that could nowadays be considered quite puffy and girly. This engraving is only the beginning of what queer indigenous people had to go through, of course not mentioning the amount of evidence of homophobia that was probably erased through the time. To summarize Brazil’s colonization process, the European view on lust, nudity, polygamy, cannibalism, sodomy and homosexuality which was normal to indigenous people, was considered to be against nature and gods will, and their job was to basically baptise as many natives as they wanted and shove catholic ideas down their throat.

Yves d’Evreux, a french capuchin priest delivered a highly dramatic letter, that presented his reaction on how he encountered an indigenous that could be considered a trans man. His trip to Northern Brasil (1613-1614) surprised him , as he reacted in a negative way towards them. As he wrote ‘There is, in Juniparan, in the Island, a hermaphrodite, in the exterior more man than a woman, since he has the face and the voice of woman, with fine, flexible and long hair, however [he] was married and had children (...). (d’Evreux, 1874, p. 90) he then mentions this man again, as he ran after him with the French to ‘purify his soul’ and kill him, he was then captured and chained under the fort of Sao Luis and was obliged to say the following ‘You will die for your crimes, we approve your death and I myself want to light the fuse for the Frenchmen to know and to see that we hate your evil deeds [...]: when Tupan sends someone to take your body, if you want to have in the Heaven the long hair and the body of a woman instead of that of a man, ask Tupan to give you the woman’s body and to be resurrected woman, and you will be in Heaven on the side of women and not of men. (d’Evreux, 1874, p. 232). This however is just a glimpse of what transgender people had to go through during colonial times and still to this day. The queer community is a community that is supposed to help everyone, but that doesn’t focus much on the history of indigenous people and how much they suffered.

In conclusion, as much as nowadays, people can be highly influenced by others, the LGBTQ community has been around for a rather long time and it is not something that the newest generation has made up. From the colonization times till nowadays, queer people have felt oppressed and the necessity to ‘stay in the closet’ and not be their true selves while being afraid of getting judged or even murdered by random people or even close ones. However, nowadays people have been talking more about important issues such as homophobia, sexism and racism, which is making queer people feel more comfortable Even though, they are still fighting for their rights, and they’re still in the long run, protesting for all the people who have died since Europeans somehow decided that god found their sexual choices to be unnatural and demoniac. Now, what is left for us to do is to create a healthy environment and show more representation in media every single day, so more queer people feel comfortable without having to spend their entire lives fighting and running away from who they are. Being queer is not a trend, but queer people have been being hidden from us our entire lives. They were always there, and they are always going to be there.

Bibliography:

Partal, Y., 2021. Are there gay animals in nature? Homosexuality in the animal world. [online] Zoo Portraits. Available at: <https://www.zooportraits.com/animal-homosexuality/> [Accessed 5 April 2021].

Sigal, P., 2003. Infamous desire. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, p.2.

Fernandes, E. and Arisi, B., 2017. Gay Indians in Brazil. 1st ed. Springer.

News-Medical.net. 2021. 1,500 animal species practice homosexuality. [online] Available at: <https://www.news-medical.net/news/2006/10/23/1500-animal-species-practice-homosexuality.aspx> [Accessed 9 April 2021].

New York Post. 2021. 5-year-old boy dies ‘trying to be Spider-Man’. [online] Available at: <https://nypost.com/2014/05/04/5-year-old-boy-dies-trying-to-be-spider-man/> [Accessed 9 April 2021].

Jackson, A., Thomas, M. and Steffen, A., 2021. Homosexuality Is Natural. [online] Exposing The Truth. Available at: <https://www.exposingtruth.com/homosexuality-is-natural/> [Accessed 9 April 2021].

Buchholz, K., 2021. Infographic: 5.6 Percent of U.S. Adults Identify as LGBT. [online] Statista Infographics. Available at: <https://www.statista.com/chart/18228/share-of-americans-identifying-as-lgbt/> [Accessed 9 April 2021].

Pictures:

1475. Spanish Explorer Ordering Native Indians To Be Torn Pieces By Dogs Copper Engraving 16Th Century. [image] Available at: <http://www.latinamericanstudies.org/debry-atrocities.htm> [Accessed 9 April 2021].

n.d. Two indigenous women kissing at an LGBTQ+ pride parade. [image] Available at: <http://@indigenasLGBTQ> [Accessed 9 April 2021].

n.d. Trans (We’wha (Zuni) circa 1849-1896 Mexican Indigenous woman. [image].

[gumnut-logic]

The Hero (Part One - full chapter)

Sorry, guys, the first few hundred words of this are the same as the previous post, but I’ve added a couple thousand words more, I promise.

-o-o-o-

Title: The Hero

Part One

Author: Gumnut

26 - 27 Oct 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Thunderbird Two, with Virgil and Gordon aboard, is hijacked and stolen. With Virgil injured, it is up to Gordon to save his brother and his ‘bird. Sequel/companion piece to ‘The Joker’. Gordon is far more than he seems.

Word count: 3141

Spoilers & warnings: Violence, WASP!Gordon, Military!Scott, whump.

Timeline: Sequel/companion piece to ‘The Joker’.

Author’s note: For @corbyinoz because she has written some magnificent Virgil and Gordon fics and is a great inspiration. Thank you for all your wonderful words.

It started with ‘The Joker’. I got interested in WASP!Gordon and decided to explore his side of the story. Then PLOT happened. Now I have no idea what is going on.

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for putting up with my crazy.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

A glass of ice and amber liquid landed in front of him with a solid thunk on the woodwork. His eldest brother followed it, his tall figure sliding around the table and taking a seat beside him.

Another glass of alcohol sat in his hand.

Scott didn’t say anything at first, apparently quite happy to nurse the drink against his chest.

Breath whistled through his teeth. “So, what happened?”

Gordon arched an eyebrow before picking up his glass and sipping the whisky. Oooh, Scott’s expensive bottle. Nice.

He took a moment to revel in its warmth before venturing into the bitterness of his report.

“He did well, you know. Put up one hell of a fight. A couple of those guys won’t be getting up any time soon.”

Blue eyes peered at him over the rim of his glass. “Virgil?”

“Kayo taught him well.” A swallow of scorching liquid, smooth as the glass holding it. “There were just too many of them.”

-o-o-o-

A ramshackle pile of a building on an abandoned farm with interference peppering the sensors. It was ironic that Virgil had accompanied him for security. AKA big brother hadn’t wanted him to go into an unknown situation without backup.

Whether the outcome would have changed in accordance with that decision, they would never know, but it led to Gordon taking lead and Virgil following. Consequently, it was Gordon who was nabbed first entering the second dusty room of the building and Virgil who had to exercise his self-defence skills.

The hands that grabbed the aquanaut were rough and for a moment the whole room went sideways. He struck out automatically, but was anticipated, his arm wrenched around his back, his knees kicked out under him, and a cold barrel shoved into the base of his skull put a very abrupt end to his defences.

“V-!”

The kick to his ribs silenced him, but his aim had been achieved.

The brother entering the room, froze for just a split second as he processed the situation. Shadows leapt from the darkness, intending on taking him down, but that second, and reflexes drilled into Virgil by his sister, gave him the power to respond.

Virgil’s massive arm swiped away the hands grabbing at him as he spun out of reach. Another shadow leapt out only to encounter an equally massive fist to its face. Virgil’s uniform did its job and protected him from impact, a hard traction boot landing solidly in one man’s guts. A padded elbow hit teeth and those huge gloved hands, usually so gentle, made knuckles as solid as steel - Gordon knew that, one slip on his part in one too many spar sessions had ended in bruises Virgil had apologised for weeks afterwards.

But there were too many, up to half a dozen assailants emerging from the shadows not including those holding Gordon.

The cold ring of metal at the base of his skull dug in deeper as he struggled to free himself and stop the inevitable.

No amount of padding could deflect the bar of steel that shone in the dark and impacted on his brother’s ribs.

Gordon heard the snap.

Oh god.

Virgil gasped and staggered. His assailants moved in.

But no, the stubborn bastard didn’t give up. His fist impacted the side of a head and a man ended up in the dust at Virgil’s feet.

But there were too many.

Too many.

“Virgil, no!” They must be getting some pleasure out of this, because there were guns a plenty, but only one deployed. Gordon didn’t know if his brother had even seen them. “Virgil!”

That steel bar flickered in the poor light and the second time it impacted on his brother, the dull thud was skull bone.

His big brother dropped without a sound.

Dust hung in the air.

“Well, so much for that.” The hot breath on the back of his neck almost overrode the chill of seeing a gun trained on Virgil’s bleeding skull. “Now, time is of the essence. I need access to your ship now, or we will finish him permanently.”

-o-o-o-

“They got me first. Virg was behind me and had that extra second to react. It was unexpected.” It had been well planned. “They...neutralised him.”

He took a swig of his drink and it caught part way down, burning a hole in his throat. “You would have been so proud of him.” It was whispered.

“I am. Of both of you.” A simple statement that said so much.

Gordon rolled his shoulders in an attempt to shake off the echoes of the incident so he could report clearly.

He was only moderately successful.

“They used Virg to get me to do what they wanted.” The words stuck in his throat and he forced steel into his spine, straightening in the chair. The image of his brother discarded and bleeding on Two’s checker-plate decking, a gun pointed at his head.

The soft crack as a boot impacted on his already damaged ribcage.

Gordon didn’t flinch. He was too experienced for that. But it didn’t hurt any less.

Another throat full of burning alcohol attempted to wash the chill away. Maybe he was just out of practise.

“We need to find a way to stop that from happening again.” His voice was parched and he found himself staring off into the distance.

“Kayo’s on it.” The tumbler was lifted from his hand. The clink of glass, the glug of pouring liquid and it reappeared full again.

Gordon took it, an eye flick his only thank you.

“I flew her to the warehouse. Virgil remained unconscious for the entire flight.” Gordon was almost thankful. “I had hoped you would be able to track us.”

It was Scott’s turn to sigh. “John was...upset.”

That snapped him out of his daze. “What?” His eyes narrowed. “What did Johnny do?”

Scott shifted where he sat. “When he lost Thunderbird Two and both your signals, he and Eos went to some lengths to find you.”

Gordon sat up straighter. “What did he do?”

“Between him and Eos, they hacked every telecommunications network in Texas...including the GDF, CIA, FBI, and the World Council.”

“Shit. Did they catch him?”

A snort. “Are you kidding me? No. Though Aunt Val has suspicions. Eos got angry at one point and let loose a virus deleting every occurrence of the word ‘intelligence’ in the GDF network.”

Gordon stared at him. “Why?”

“She found something.”

“What?” Was Scott being suspenseful for a reason?

“They knew, Gordon.”

“Knew what?” For god’s sake.

“They knew there would be an attempt on Thunderbird Two.”

-o-o-o-

It was cold fury, nasty and acidic. It leeched into his bones and swirled in his brain. As each action taken against Virgil, he lined up his opponents in his head, catalogued and assessed. There was fear, but he had no time for it.

“What do you want?” He was yanked down a corridor by one restrained arm. He had asked that question multiple times already. Again, he received as much a response as he had before.

Nothing.

The leader of the group was dressed in army fatigues, but had no identifying insignia or rank other than a simple red slash of a crisscross on one arm. It had been painted on with a brush.

Gordon stored it for later analysis.

But for the present, he was keeping track of exactly where he and his brother were being taken.

Unlike the building they had been captured in, this one was modern, clean and far from a dark, sinister lair. Endless corridors of beige and linoleum.

He memorised their route from Thunderbird Two taking note of as much as possible.

He had landed the giant cargo plane on a private runway and taxied her into a massive hangar. The impression that this had all been planned ahead became stronger. After all, Two wasn’t little. It wasn’t as if she could be stashed in some thief’s backyard.

Virgil was a mass of bruises, each welt a threat to get Gordon to do what they wanted. His heart ached for his big brother, still unconscious and being dragged alongside Gordon between two men.

Until he wasn’t.

“Where are you taking him?”

Again, he received no response other than having both his arms wrenched tighter behind his back. His shoulders creaked.

He didn’t give them the satisfaction of groaning.

Dragged down the hallway, he felt the distance grow between him and his brother.

And with that, he just got colder and colder.

By the time they punched an electronic lock and shoved him into room, he was little more than ice.

The man holding him spun him around. Grey eyes meeting his.

Ice met ice.

He didn’t say anything, but the intent was clear. We have your brother. Do anything and he dies.

We’ll see about that.

The man spun and left, taking his lacky with him.

Gordon was left restrained, in a room with a single bed and not much else, glaring at a locked door.

-o-o-o-

“They knew?” Gordon stared at his brother. “What did they know?”

Scott pulled out his phone, prodded it and handed it over to Gordon.

The aquanaut stared at the words on the screen. It was a report detailing a new terrorist group. The GDF had labelled them ‘Null’ in accordance with the symbol they assigned themselves.

A red hand-painted cross was splattered across the page. Gordon’s lips tightened.

The intelligence reported was sketchy, but the impression was a vendetta against International Rescue, the Hood and the Chaos Crew. A single statement, ‘We will end the war’, was attached to the document.

“Shit.” It came out in a breathless rush.

The document went on to theorise that the founder or founders of the group had suffered at the hands of the Chaos Crew and consequently had a vendetta against both sides of the equation.

“Why didn’t they tell us?” Gordon stared at the phone, a number of emotions roiling in his gut.

Out the corner of his eye, Scott sculled the last of his drink and dropped his tumbler onto the table. “Bait.” An exhalation. “You were bait.”

“Bait?” Gordon stared at his brother. “You’re kidding me.”

“No. I’m not.” Blue eyes were so cold, they hurt. “Eos dug up the command sequence. They didn’t know where the group was holed up, so they were waiting for them to strike next. We were the logical target as we are the easiest to find and lure.”

“Fuck.” It burst out of him in an explosion of hot air and he shot from his seat, storming out onto the balcony. His nerves itched under his skin. The images of his injured brother danced in his head.

The wind leapt off the Island and wrapped itself around him as if in reassurance, but he was not ready to receive it.

Scott walked up calmly and stood beside him.

“Did she know?” There was no need to mention who Gordon was talking about.

“She did.”

“And she didn’t tell us.”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Does she know, we know?”

“No, but as I said, she has suspicions.”

“Does she know what happened to Virgil?”

Scott didn’t answer immediately. “Yes.”

“Tell me it was worth it.”

“The GDF did not succeed in capturing any of them.”

Again, Gordon found himself staring at his brother. “None? Not even those I took out?”

“None.”

“Fuck.” But this time it was a defeated exhale and Gordon closed his eyes, his hand rubbing his face. “What are we going to do?”

Beside him, Scott straightened into the sharp, commanding military man he was. “What we always do.” Blue eyes turned to focus on him. “Save people.”

And Gordon got the message. That blue gaze locked onto him, his brother’s military bearing, straight and strong.

They saved people.

And they would save themselves.

-o-o-o-

It took him an annoying amount of time, but he slipped his bonds. It helped he kept a tiny pocket knife strapped into the inside of his right boot. He would have taken that one as a credit to his military past, but honestly, it was the result of an incident several years ago that saw him snagged underwater and Virgil having to dive in and untangle him. The nagging about being prepared after that had been intolerable. The tiny penknife had been handed to him late one night with worry in those brown eyes.

Kind of ironic that now it would be helping to save that same brother.

They had taken his baldric and rebreather while they were still aboard Thunderbird Two. He would give these guys credit. They were far from stupid. No monologuing, no explanations, just purpose.

He had no idea what that purpose was other than to capture Two and torture his brother as leverage.

Yeah, well, Gordon had a purpose, too.

Get out of this room, get his brother and his ‘bird, and get the hell out of here.

Tools at hand...penknife, metal bed and associated mattress. He looked up...light globe. His eyes tracked a conduit leading from the bare bulb across the ceiling and down the wall, disappearing into the doorframe.

Exposed wiring.

He slipped up to the door, a hand touching the smooth and cold metal surface. A moment to listen for movement beyond. These guys were smart, he was pretty sure there would be a guard or two outside his door.

No sound to confirm anything.

Nor was there a lock on this side of the door, the electronic lock was outside for security reasons no doubt. But in any case, there was no way for him to see out the door or what was on the other side.

His lips thinned.

Wasn’t going to stop him.

He reached for the plastic conduit beside the door and, shoving his penknife under the sheath, pulled off the plastic channel keeping it snug against the wall.

Perfect.

He let his mouth slip into a lopsided smirk.

It took a while and aching fingertips, but he could feel his big brother over his shoulder congratulating him on his skill. Virgil was going to love this story.

Assuming it had a happy ending.

He ripped the electric cables from their mountings on the wall. It took him some time because he had to do it with minimal sound. At one or two points, he thought he had blown it as a c-clamp clattered and bounced on the concrete floor, but there was no response.

That metal door must be thick.

Some re-purposed plastic conduit to hold the cables and a little extra protection for his hands and penknife and he cut the wires one by one.

The room fell dark.

Gordon stood ready, expecting someone to burst in at the change in lighting, but instead a thin band of light from outside shone under the door.

A shadow moved across that band of light, but the door did not open.

No sound.

Exhale.

He only had one shot at this.

He touched the bared wires to the metal door.

The darkness sparked and the door sighed open just a little as the lock died an electronic death.

A sliver of light landed on his blue uniform.

A pair of dark eyes, surrounded by khaki, met his.

A gun came up.

Gordon moved.

He was out the door and the gun was flying across the corridor in a blur of motion. A mixture of WASP and Kayo took the man down, a final punch to the face sending him into oblivion.

A breath and he dragged his victim into the now dark room. A moment of consideration of the value of anonymity, and he stripped the man of his jacket and pants, trying not to cringe when he shoved them over his uniform. His blue boots would have to stay. Fortunately, or not, the pants were a little long and hid them for the most part.

But move. Time to move.

A quick glance into the corridor and he darted through the door, closing it behind him.

Hurried, but silent steps and he retraced the path that had led him here. Around that corner he had last seen his brother disappear into, ears alert, eyes tracking, body ready.

A man exited a door in front of him and Gordon reacted on instinct. Another body shoved behind another door.

The corridor ended in a T-intersection.

Left or right?

Listen.

“Gordon Tracy is a simple man.”

The words were distant and slurred, but his heart lifted. Virgil.

Left.

“I once lost him in the bath.”

Gordon didn’t spare a smile for that memory, though it was a good one. He only had eyes for the man standing in front of the door at the end of the corridor.

Fortunately, it was a short corridor.

Okay, Gordo, you gotta play this one right.

He straightened up, checked his shirt to make sure his blue uniform was hidden by khaki.

Walk with purpose and no-one will question your presence.

To the sound of his brother’s pained voice, he strode down that corridor as sure in his right to be there as he was sure he was going to go through that door.

The guard looked up in question and Gordon caught his eye. A small smile as his brother spoke about jokes and his darkest days.

The guard returned his smile.

The moment he was within reach, Gordon wiped it off his face.

He caught the unconscious man before he could hit the floor and stashed him to one side.

Virgil’s voice slurred on.

“He has seen the glassiness of death and faced down the reaper himself.”

The reason why he could hear Virgil so clearly became apparent as he realised the door was ajar.

Sloppy.

To his advantage, pushing it ever so slowly open, he peered in.

The room was dark except for a spotlight in the centre. Virgil was strapped to a chair and it appeared that was all that was holding him upright. Blood from his head wound dripped sluggishly down one side of his face. He listed sideways, eyes glazed, his words slurred but inevitable.

Gordon swore silently, his fists clenching. His brother had been drugged. What the hell did these people want?

A single interrogator was in the room, his back to the door.

From sloppy to convenient.

Gordon let himself silently into the room.

“The itching powder on the bath towel.

“The hell let loose on April Fool’s Day every damn year.

“They are but a symptom of the man you are facing, and yet so why you are going to regret what you are doing.” Virgil’s eyes were foggy, but the determination was clear and shot across the room at his tormentor.

Blood dripped from his brother’s lip.

And Gordon stepped into the light.

-o-o-o-

End Part One.

Part Two

[emospritelet]

Okay, so I reblogged this cool old picture the other day and thought it was probably cursed or something and it gave me a plot bunny so I wrote a ficlet.  Just imagine a Rumple-hand on the page instead of the one that’s there.

The book was very old.

That much would have been obvious to anyone who looked at it, but Belle suspected that no one had done so in a very long time.  The book had been on the bottom shelf in a darkened corner, far from the light of the lamps and seemingly forgotten.  There was no dust on it - at least, no more than on any other book in the library - and its leather binding was relatively unworn, just a few scuffs and creases betraying the fact that it had been opened and read.  The pages themselves were thick and yellowing, the printed words crawling across it in thick, old-fashioned type in deepest black.  The title of the book, inscribed on the spine in tiny gilt letters, was Summoning Darkness, and it was this that had piqued Belle’s interest as she browsed the shelves.

The library was large, filled with more books than she could possibly read in the time she planned to be there.  Of course, if her father got his way, this would be her home.  Her library.  Perhaps it would be enough to put up with - the rest of it.  Her mouth twisted as she shook her head.  No.  Nothing would be enough to put up with that.

She had already devoured a collection of ghost stories while trying to pass the tedious hours between dawn and dusk, and having finished that, had tiptoed downstairs in the quiet of the night to replace it with another.  Setting the old book on one of the mahogany desks, she opened it up.  The first page repeated the book’s title, along with an intricate line drawing of what appeared to be an ornamental dagger.  There was something written on the blade, and she squinted as she tried to read it, without success.

Belle turned the page, the paper dry beneath her fingertips, and winced as the edge of it sliced into her skin.  She automatically shook her injured finger with a hiss of pain, and stuck it in her mouth, the taste of iron on her tongue.  Drawing it out, she watched curiously as a dark bead of blood welled up. Glancing down at the book made her sigh.  Two small spots of deep red marred the ink drawing there, a thick black circle with strange symbols scrawled within.  The blood had soaked into the paper, spreading outwards in fuzzy-edged circles like tiny red suns, and Belle rolled her eyes in vexation as she sucked at her cut finger. Any attempt to clean off the blood would only make the problem worse.  Still, it was likely that the book had lain there undisturbed for years until she had picked it up.  No one would ever know.

Upon removing her finger from her mouth and inspecting it closely, the cut on her finger appeared to have stopped bleeding, and so she turned the next page.  She frowned curiously at the picture there.  It was a drawing of a strange hand, open-palmed, the fingers evenly spread.  The fingers were long and slender, the curved tips of dark nails just visible, and the wrist was surrounded by a loose cuff of what she suspected was meant to be silk.

Black lines criss-crossed the palm, some thin, some thick.  There was a pattern there that she couldn’t quite make out, and she pursed her lips thoughtfully.  Lifting the book to get a closer view, she almost dropped it, and the book wobbled in her hands.  Belle smiled to herself as the angle changed, and the pattern of lines became a little clearer.  She steadied her grip on the book, holding it at eye level.  At that angle, the lines became letters. If I Offer It was written horizontally across the palm.  Belle turned the book sideways, and nodded as another line was revealed written vertically: Will You Accept.

“‘If I offer it, will you accept?’” she whispered quietly.  “Yes!”

She didn’t know what had made her say that: perhaps some last, desperate hope of changing her fate, but speaking the words made something shift in the air around her.  The atmosphere grew heavy, dense, as though a storm approached, and Belle set the open book down on the desk, heart thumping a little as she glanced around the library.  The lights winked out, making her squeak in alarm and plunging the room into thick, velvet darkness.  Belle grasped at the edge of the desk to steady herself, licking her lips nervously as she tried to remember the way back to the door.  She had had enough of adventuring for one night.

At that moment, a soft light bloomed above, bathing her in a warm, golden glow.  The space beyond the circle of light was black so deep she could see nothing, not even the bookshelves, and she shifted from foot to foot, unsure of which way to run.  Walk, Belle.  Her grandmother’s voice sounded loud and disapproving in her head.  A lady walks.  She never runs.

“A long time.”

A voice from the darkness made her jump and clutch at her skirts, her heart thudding in her chest.  She glanced around wildly, but could see nothing beyond the circle of light in which she stood.

“A long time since I was last summoned,” added the voice.

It sounded like a man, with a touch of an accent that suggested he was from the north of the kingdom.  There was a snide tone to the voice, and a hint of amusement.  Belle took a breath, and raised her chin.

“Who’s there?” she asked, more boldly than she felt.

“Well, well, well.”

She heard a rhythmic click of boot heels walking a slow circle around her, and turned on the spot to follow them.

“What do we have here?” mused the voice.  “Unusual, to have one so young summon me.  It’s always noblemen and their ridiculous wars.  What ails you, child?”

“I’m not a child,” she said, frowning.  “I’m a woman.”

“Indeed you are.  And apparently lacking the sense you were born with, picking up that book.  A pretty little princess, whiling away the hours by practising dark magic.”  There was a tutting sound.  “What would your parents say?”

Belle bristled at his mocking tone.

“My mother is dead,” she said curtly.  “My father thinks I read too much, anyway.  And I’m not a princess.  Just a Lady.”

“Oh, just a Lady.”  The man sounded amused.  “Well, I humbly beg your pardon.  What can I do for you, my Lady?”

“Do?”  Belle opened and closed her mouth.

“You summoned me, did you not?  You spilled your blood and spoke the words to bring me forth?”

The voice had lowered, softened.  It was almost a caress, and Belle shivered at a sudden chill, wishing she had brought a shawl.

“I - I didn’t mean to,” she said quickly.

“You performed the spell by accident?”

There was surprise in the voice, and it made her smile, easing some of her fear.

“I suppose I did,” she said.  “I’m very sorry if I’ve disturbed you, or - or offended you, but I didn’t mean to - to - bring you forth.”

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the rapid tapping of a foot.

“So there’s nothing you want?” mused the voice.  “Nothing at all?  Not one thing that you can think of that I could help you with?”  A pause.  “Or - rid you of?”

Belle swallowed hard, licking dry lips.  Her skin was tingling, her cheeks flushed.  A twinge of something that felt like guilt was starting to bite in her belly, but she ignored it.

“Actually…”

“Yes?”

The voice had changed again, crooning, almost mocking.  She squared her jaw.

“I’m supposed to be getting married,” she said.  “I’ve said I don’t want to, but I’m not sure I really have a choice in the matter.  My - my father keeps talking about duty and honour and the family line, and - and I know he grew to love my mother, and she him, but—”

“You do not love your intended?”

“I don’t even like him!” she said vehemently.  “He’s - he’s a beast!”

“Ah.”  Silence again.  “So, you wish to be spared this - unpalatable union?”

Her heart was racing, but she held her head high.

“I do.”

“Then perhaps I can give you what you want.”  The voice had grown lilting, soothing.  “But you must know that everything has its price.”

Belle shifted on her toes, nervous again.

“What’s the price?”

There was a hissing sound of breath drawn over teeth, the gentle clicking of a tongue.

“I want your name.”

“My - my name?”  Belle blinked.  “Is that all?”

“Should I ask more of you?” he asked lazily.  “Perhaps you think your name means nothing.”

“I - I don’t…”  She shook her head, confused by the turn the conversation had taken.  “What use is my name to you?”

“That is my price.”

Belle thought for a moment, raking through her mind to dig up scraps she had read as a child, nuggets of forbidden magic she had managed to sneak past her grandmother’s watchful eyes.

“Names have power, don’t they?” she said slowly.  “You’re asking me to give you power over me.”

“Aren’t you a clever one!”  He sounded delighted.  “Magic is all about the balance of power.  You have to give a little to get a little, my Lady.  It’s whether you think the price worth paying.”

Belle pursed her lips, raising an eyebrow as she made a decision.

“Come into the light,” she said.

There was silence for a moment.

“Why?”

For the first time, he sounded uncertain, and for some reason, it made her lingering fear evaporate.

“It’s customary to shake hands when a deal is struck.”

More silence.

“Brave little thing, aren’t you?”

She didn’t answer, but waited, the tips of her thumbs and fingers pressing together a little nervously.

“If I step inside the circle, the spell will be broken,” he said eventually.  “If you wish to see my face, you will have to step outside.”

“What will happen then?” she asked, and he chuckled softly.

“I don’t know,” he said.  “No one ever has.”

“Oh.”

Belle chewed her lip, uncertain.

“You seem alright there, though,” she said.  “I don’t imagine stepping into the dark could hurt me.”

“That’s what I thought.”

His tone was dry, and somewhat weary, and she could feel her interest grow.  What manner of man was he?  If indeed he was a man.

“I trust you to keep me safe,” she said decidedly.

“And your basis for this is?”

“If something dire happens to me, you won’t get to hear my name, will you?”

Another chuckle.

“Very well,” he said.

A hand slowly entered the circle of light, palm upwards, long, slender fingers tipped with dark nails and glittering with tiny golden scales.  The loose cuff of a black silk shirt was gathered at the thin wrist, gleaming in the light.

“I have a solution to your problem,” he said.  “If I offer it, will you accept?”

Belle licked her lips again, and grasped his hand.

“Yes.”

[rumowrites]

I just want more cute tinker and runaan one shots tbh. could you write about their first date or their proposal? thank you for being amazing

Hello There! (pun intended) I will write one of a first date and one of their proposal later:) Though here is one of a first-meeting!

Runaan pushed through the door of a smith’s workshop one of his soldiers had recommended only to promptly collide with a basket of horseshoes that was placed next to the entry, halfway obstructing the passage. With a low curse he wiggled himself around it very much less graceful than he cared to admit. The crammed shop that opened before him once he successfully passed the threshold was bathed in a golden light and empty. A faint clanging noise from the back alerted him of a doorway halfway hidden behind a set of heavy shelves.

Cautiously, he took a few steps further into the room until he stood in front of the doorway, the rhythmic clanging intensifying. “Hello?” he tried, leaning into the hallway that followed. “Come on in!” a melodic voice shouted “I’m in the forge, second door to the right.”

The heat got more troubling for his cold-accustomed moonshadow elf body as he placed a hand on the warm door handle. This one had been made of stone and took more effort to open than the front door. The reason of that was presented to him as soon as he slipped in the workshop, the heat almost overwhelming him.

Behind a blazing forge that was powered by what he recognized as an ever-burning-flame, stood a broad shouldered sunfire elf who was just placing a glinting sword into a bucket of water. The hissing sound effectively droned out the other’s steps as the smith walked towards him, hand outstretched as a greeting.

Despite his well-known and widely-feared poker face, he couldn’t within but stare. The other elf was shirtless and now that he had shed the thick leather apron protecting him from the flames, Runaan could openly admire his abs and astonishing shoulder muscles.

“Hi, I’m Tinker.” The sunfire elf said while shaking his hand seemingly oblivious to his state of clothing “Runaan” he managed in a rather calm voice that luckily didn’t betray him. “What can I do for you?” there was spark of something as he let his hazel eyes wander across the Assassins body and gestured for the door. “We should talk about that in the shop though. It will get even warmer the longer you stay here.” Just now, Runaan noticed the thin layer of sweat that had coated his bare forearms. His kind really wasn’t made for heat. Tinker though seemed very comfortable standing right next to the raging fire, handling the metal without gloves as he had done before.

“I came looking for a set of blades.” He started once they were back in the crammed shop “One of my subordinates recommended you.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I guess you would prefer something with sheaths that are easy to conceal and fast to reach preferably not obstructing you while running and climbing?” astonished, Runaan nodded “Exactly. How did you figure?”

The smith only shrugged and began to shift some cartons around. “Your uniform marks you as high ranking general of the Assassin squadron. And also: everybody around here knows you Runaan, celeri umbra.” The draconic sounded a little mocking though in a friendly way. He hated that by name. ‘Swift shadow’ he was but it still bothered him that people gave him glorifying names like the heroes of his kin had. There was nothing heroic in sneaking around and killing, even if you did it to protect your country.  

“Don’t call me that.” He asked in a stern voice, still watching the smith sort through several more boxes and pulling out fabric wrapped bundles every once in a while. “Sorry” he chirped finally stepping forward, his strong arms carrying a dozen heavy looking bundles. He dumped them on the only free table in the shop before turning back to Runaan. “Would you stretch your arms out, palms upwards?” Tinker asked and seemed to calculate something in his head as the other obeyed. He then placed some of the bundles to the side, opening the first 2 of the remaining ones.  Inside were each 2 long narrow blades just a little longer than his arms. One pair was straight, the other curved. “Go on try them.” The smith encouraged and Runaan very carefully did a few test twirls with the first set to not accidentally knock something over in the crammed shop. “Which one do you prefer?” immediately, the Assassin held up the curved blade. The straight ones just didn’t match his fighting style. “Alright” he was then handed two other sets that both had a curved blade but were entirely different otherwise. “I need more space to test them, otherwise I will probably break something.” Runaan stated as the tip of one blade just barley passed in front of the others nose. The sunfire elf nodded and recollected the pile of weaponry before motioning for him to follow. They passed the forge and reached a door that opened to a fairly large backyard, lined with Targets and practise dummies. “Try them. I will be right back.” The other said and vanished back in the house. Runaan could have sworn he was shivering a little as they left the unnatural warmth of the workshop. His observation had been correct, he concluded, as the smith returned shortly after, now clad in a long-sleeved linen shirt and dark brown vest. He even pulled gloves on as soon as he stepped in the yard. Runaan presented him the pair he liked better, it was the heavier one but he preferred a little more weight in the handles to balance his strokes. He told Tinker as much who seemed to contemplate for awhile and searched through the pile of swords until he found another pair. They continued this game until he had tested every single blade the smith gave him and found the design he was most comfortable with.

For the last few try-outs, he did some more complicated moves than he had before, showing off a little to the handsome smith. Runaan even added some unnecessary backflips that rewarded him with a melodic laugh from the other. Tinker seemed to enjoythe show even though the Assassin could see him shivering slightly. It must be a sunfire elf thing since he himself was only clad in his light summer uniform and found it rather warm. “Let’s go back inside, you’re shivering.” The smith blushed in an adorable orange on his dark skin before shaking his head. “It’s fine.” Runaan stepped a little closer towards him and just now noticed the heat that was radiating off his skin. “I insist.” He stated with a smile and collected a few of the swords to help carry them inside. Again, he was slightly overwhelmed by the dry heat that welcomed them but tried to blank it out in favour of the shop owner. He could stand a little heat.

“Okay so now I need you to tell me what you want to have changed with the last blade you tried, I made some notes but I would like to hear your opinion, too.” Dutifully, Runaan rattled down the list of things that he thought could still be improved, more weight to the handle, smaller hand guards and possibility of a reversed grip. Tinker nodded, dotting down a few notes before returning the blades to their respective places. “I can have it done by tonight or tomorrow.” He said, making his way towards the forge. Not willing to leave just yet, the Assassin followed him again, curiously watching Tinker align tools and a pair of raw blades that looked like the one he’s tested last.

“It’s going to get really warm in here soon. You can watch if you like but be aware that the temperatures can be quite unbearable for any other than a sunfire elf.”

“It’s not that bad.” Runaan replied coolly even though he already felt the urge to remove his sleeveless over-coat. There was no way he would pass upon the opportunity to see a real ever lasting flame in action, especially not when a handsome stranger was involved. Tinker shrugged and turned a few levers on the forge. “Suit yourself. You can always step out if it gets too warm.” He then stripped off his shirt and vest again before tying the leather apron around his waist. As stealthily as he could, Runaan removed his coat and dark blue vest and placed them on a hook by the door leaving him in his teal undershirt. He prayed the other wouldn’t notice that he was already losing to the heat.

Curiously, the Assassin stepped a little closer to the forge, attentively tracking every movement and committing it to his memory. Every once in a while Tinker would point out what he was doing and why or Runaan would ask something, either concerning the material or technique. When the smith placed one of the blades in the water bucket for the second time, he turned towards him, a concerned look on his face. “Are you alright? Maybe you should go outside and cool off some.”

“I’m fine.” He heard himself say just as his vision somehow narrowed until everything was pitch black. Runaan didn’t feel the collision with the hot stone floor anymore.

A burning headache spread across his temples as his eyes fluttered open. The world around him was still blurry but he could make out movement and sound? in front of him. Instinctively his right hand wandered to the dagger on his hip, drawing it in one swift motion at the shadow moving above him. Something strong grabbed his arm and held it in place. A melodic voice seemed to repeat his Name over and over though he couldn’t pin down its source.

Slowly, his vision cleared and he was faced with a sunfire elf kneeling above him with a concerned expression. He also seemed to be the source of the voice. “Runaan?” it asked “Can you hear me?” the Assassin nodded, eyes wandering to where his right with the dagger was enclosed in an iron grip. He felt light wind on his bare? chest and somehow his face and torso felt wet. “What?” he asked, gradually willing his arm to relax and stop struggling against the grip. “You passed out in the forge.” Tinker supplied, slowly letting go of his wrist. “I think it was because of the heat. I carried you out to cool down.” He looked around to ensure they were alone in the backyard without any curious eyes. His left wandered to shield his eyes from the sun, the bright light only intensified his headache. “How long have I been out?” after a moment he felt the slight trace of something wet pooling beneath him. “And why am I wet and shirtless?” he asked slightly confused, his brain had still trouble processing all the information. “About ten minutes?” the other elf guessed, looking kinda lost “and uh when you wouldn’t wake up at first I, um, I panicked and threw a bucket of water on you. You know, to help you cool back down, like-like my steel?” his expression turned to embarrassment, causing the adorable blush to reappear.

“Like your steel?” Runaan asked doubtfully in an attempt to sit up only to loose his grip in the damp soil beneath him. With a splash, he landed back in the little puddle. “Great” that had not exactly been the first impression he had hoped for.

Tinker immediately offered him a hand and pulled the Assassin to his feet with ease as the other took it reluctantly.  “Thank you” he said sincerely “I didn’t think it would get that warm in there. Guess we are not made for the warmth after all.” The smith chuckled at that before walking back to the door with quick steps. Runaan noticed his body heat being considerably less vibrant than before what had probably to do with the time he spent outside. Although he had heard sunfire elves also changed heat with their emotions. He hoped he didn’t make the other dislike him. As they passed a mirror in the hallway and he could properly see his state of dress, Runaancouldn’t within but muttering a curse under his breath. How was he supposed to get back to his house without anyone seeing his dishevelled state? Mud was clinging to his bare back where he had been lying on the ground and his usually silky white hair was equally tainted. Behind him, the smith came back to stand beside him while wrapping a thick blanket around his shoulders. “You can’t possibly go out like that.” He stated looking him up and down in their reflection. “You don’t say.” Runaan couldn’t within to roll his eyes. “The gossip would be overwhelming. It’s worse enough already as it is. I don’t need to add speculations of possible mud-fights to the list.”

“What do you mean?” Tinker seemed to be heating up again since the warmth slipped through the blanket and warmed his back. The sensation was oddly comforting even though it should have been far too warm. “People talk a lot. Especially when they don’t know anything about you. The less they know the wilder the speculations get.” In that particular part, his people were no better than humans. Unless humans though, they had a stronger sense of honour and would never dare to talk about another elf in their presence. Somehow he wasn’t entirely sure if that was better. The Assassin preferred to take his opponents head on, no matter the battlefield.

“That can’t be entirely true.“ The other elf looked a little sad “The people respect you.” A small laugh escaped him at that comment “No, they fear me. Though it doesn’t make a difference really. Tell me, what have you heard about me personally before I set foot in your shop?” Tinker startled for a moment, his slight frown deepening at recognizing the truth in Runaan’s words. “I guess nobody is perfect.” They stared into their reflection for a moment before the smith straightened and pointed to a staircase at the end of the hall. “Come on I will show you to my bath so you can clean yourself before going back out.”

“There is no need for that. I have imposed enough already.” He would take the jab at his pride only to make less of a fool of himself in front of the other. However,Tinker was having none of it, already climbing up the stairs. “Nonsense, it was me who dumped a bucket of water on you in the first place.”

The upper level wasn’t as hot as the workshop but still way warmer than he kept his own quarters. The difference in both their races was more evident than ever as Tinker opened a door to his right and a bath chamber completely made of stone came into view. A little fire burned in one corner that emitted considerably more warmth than should be possible. He even thought it got a little larger when the sunfire elf stepped into the room. His kind preferred wooden houses and furniture because it resembled the woods. He knew of Earthsong elves who lived in dome-shaped homes half covered by earth. Apparently sunfire elves preferred stone and fire. A combination he found interesting and strange at the same time. “The water is over there,” Tinker pointed to a lever placed next to the smooth granite bathtub. “I hope it’s not too warm but the coldest setting should work. Towels are over there.” Runaan nodded, eying the large basin with scepticism. He was used to wash himself in the stream next to his house. “Thank you.” It was very uncommon among moonshadow elves to show such hospitality. His people were far more private than the smith seemed to be. Before he could apologize again for intruding, the other elf vanished through the door, taking a little of the warmth with him. “I will get the rest of your clothes.”

Runaan used the time until the other’s return to untie his hair and try and detangle it a little from where it was braided at the back of his head. Not an easy task seeing all the mud that had glued the fine strands together but once Tinker came back, carrying a pile of green-blue fabric in his arms, he had the worst knots out. His by now hip long hair fell freely down his back in a cascade of white and brown. “I will be downstairs. Should you need anything feel free to ask.” The smith carefully closed the door behind him, making sure it would stay shut.

He looked around the room before finally stepping over to the bathtub, running a hand over the smooth granite surface. It felt oddly unfamiliar in comparison to the ones at the Academy that were crafted form heavy oak wood. The water on the coldest setting possible was still considerably warmer than he would have preferred but it didn’t hurt his skin so he slowly began to undress while the basin filled itself. He washed his pants first under the running water and placed them in front of the little fire that would dry them in no time. The rest of his garments had luckily survived so he carefully placed one foot in the water before settling down. It was a little uncomfortable at first but his body quickly adapted to the warmth. Soon, the heat was rather comforting, loosening the knots in his tense muscles bit by bit. The mud on his back vanished without much further ado however the stained parts of his hair took a little longer to clean. It was a lot of hair after all.

Once he was done, he drained the tub, making sure no remnants of mud were left behind as the water twirled down the drain. An interesting construction really. He wondered if the smith had built it himself. Probably. The towel he found Tinker had placed next to his clothes was strangely soft and enclosed him in a pocket of warmth as soon as he wrapped it around his shoulders. It turned out to be very effective in drying him though since the thick fluffy fabric took hold of a lot of water. Runaan even managed to almost completely dry his hair with it. Carefully, he re-braided the strands and added the little metal clasps he used to hold it in place. After re-dressing and placing the used towel on a rack in front of the fire, he checked his reflection in the mirror next to the door. Satisfied with what he saw, he stepped out again, returning to the workshop downstairs.

Tinker was still working in the forge and regarded him with a greeting motion of his head as he shaped one of the blades he recognized as his order. After a few minutes, the sunfire elf placed the blazing metal in a bucket of water and motioned for him to follow him back into the shop. “Better not stay here too long. I don’t want to have to almost drown you again.” He chuckled as they stepped back into the hallway, heavy door closing behind him. “I tend to forget how hot the forge gets. It’s hard to calculate the effect on others when you don’t really feel it yourself.” Again, Runaan could feel his body heat filling the space around them. Candles in their immediate surrounding grew a little brighter, the nearer he got to them, emitting more light and warmth. “No, you are not to blame. I underestimated the effect. Thank you for helping me though. How can I repay you?”

“There really is no need for that. You don’t owe me anything.” There was no way he would let it go that easily. For one, his honour demanded that Runaan did something for the other elf in return and secondly this was the perfect opportunity to ask the other out while still staying on relatively safe ground. “Please, I insist. Let me treat you to dinner some time?” immediately, he felt the air around him heat up a little more as the other blushed furiously. A tleast the attraction seemed to go both ways. “If you really want to.” Tinker finally agreed tentatively. “Your swords should be ready by tomorrow. Do you want any decorative engravings on the hilt?”

A small smile crept on Runaan’s face “Surprise me. Tomorrow it is. And dinner afterwards.” He quickly left the shop after that, careful to not trip over anything. The day had turned out alright after all.

Send me more prompts as I desperately try to finish the next chapter of Talents:) Maybe I will some of them for the story instead of only one-shots. Inspiration is always welcome!

[davids69811]

Wood Switching - Getting Going With the Fundamentals

Timber transforming is becoming a popular enhancement to the woodworker's arsenal of abilities. Nevertheless, it can be a challenge for the newbie as to what is needed to begin with the timber turret and what might already be around the store. There are simply a few fundamentals needed to start with this remarkable hobby. Carving Blanks

Obviously, the first thing one needs is a wood turret. Unless the budget is unrestricted, most turners begin with a beginning device. Thankfully wood turrets are less complicated and also consequently less costly than are metal turrets. Nevertheless, there are a few points even the beginner can look for with ease to make the financial investment go further Turning Blanks.

The lathe needs to be as heavy as you can afford. This can later on be amended by including sandbags to the stand, a really usual practise amongst woodturners, yet a hefty, cast iron turret is an excellent point to have. Timber turrets are sized by the optimum dimension of the item of wood they can deal with, however few turners will certainly wish to make use of the optimum capability of most newbie lathes.

Among the factors is the minimum rate of the lathe will certainly be also quickly in many cases for huge pieces of wood. Generally the minimum speed of a novice turret will certainly be in the 6 hundred change per minute or rpm array. This is all right for a 10 inch dish empty 3 inches thick, yet not for a 10 inch diameter log of maple thirty seven inches long as well as out of balance. Many novice lathes will hold that large a piece of timber however are most likely not safe to transform it. Try to find the most affordable minimum speed you can find Turning Blanks.

The turret will certainly frequently included a headstock and tailstock center which are utilized to hold spindles in position for turning. Most often there is additionally a faceplate made use of for holding bowls as well as such. Nonetheless, there will certainly not likely be a set of tools for to in fact reduce the wood. Distributors will market devices separately and also in collections. For many novices, a beginner set will certainly do great. Look for it to have a roughing cut, a number of spindle gouges, a couple of scrapes, a parting tool and a couple of skews. Make certain it is constructed from broadband steel which may be abbreviated as HSS.

Those devices will require to be sharpened but most stores will have a mill in them already. Get an aluminum oxide wheel of eighty to one hundred grit and also change among the wheels with this new one. A cabinet is a requirement. A developing jig is ruled out a need but I would highly suggest purchasing of making one for the newbie. It will conserve a lot of worry.

All that is left is the timber. For the beginning and also for that issue the innovative turner I recommend the wood pile as a wonderful place to look, particularly because many woodworking shops already have a bandsaw or various other means to prepare the timber for the lathe Turning Blanks.

Timber Dish Blanks - Wet and Dry

Wooden bowls are the pillar of several woodturners as well as an assumption of any individual taking a look at the work of a woodturner. In order to make a bowl, one requires an item of timber called a bowl space. These are either in wet or completely dry timber and require various strategies to end up the item.

Dry dish spaces are normally made use of for smaller bowls just because they are extremely tough to completely dry without splitting and also consequently seldom offered by suppliers. Small bowls, on the other hand might be made from spaces cut from two by six stock boards. Considering that this supply is truly just one and also five eighths by five and also 5 8s in hardwood as well as somewhat much less in softwood, it will certainly make a dish regarding five inches in size as well as one and also a fifty percent inches deep Turning Blanks.

To begin, reduce a circle out of the board simply over five inches in diameter. Mount it to the lathe with a faceplate or screw chuck and transform the outside of the dish, squashing the bottom and marking a circle as the turret turns. This need to be a little smaller sized than the bottom of the bowl.

Fasten a waste block to the faceplate and transform it rounded and also level. Currently turn it to fit the circle made use of the bottom of the dish space. Use warm glue to secure the waste to the space. It may be quickly placed to the turret. Real up the outside of the bowl and turn out the within. Currently sand and finish. To get rid of the blank either take it off the lathe as well as sharply hit a carve at the glue line or, much better, part know the waste block to concerning a fifty percent inch tenon and lever off the piece. The rubbing of the parting cut softens the adhesive as well as makes it very easy Turning Blanks.

Larger bowls are typically made from environment-friendly timber as well as are dual transformed. Initially rough the bowl out both inside as well as outside in between centers or using a chuck. It should be entrusted a density concerning 10 percent of its size. Cover the outdoors with wax solution to reduce drying out and also avoid cracking. The harsh transformed dish is currently let dry for 3 months or longer to permit it to readjust gradually to the loved one moisture of the shop. It will certainly warp as it dries but hopefully not crack. Flatten all-time low of the harsh dish with an airplane or sander and proceed as prior to making use of warm adhesive and also a waste block.

From Woodturning Blanks To Unique Handrafted Wood Products: A Background And Overview

The art of woodturning stemmed centuries earlier, in European nations where pin and dish turrets were driven manually, with pedals like a bike. They were much bigger as well as extra elaborate than the compact devices these days, and also were made use of to transform vessels of all sizes. However, these ancient devices generally run at really low speeds (visualize woodturning at a rate of one transformation per 2nd!) as well as required a lot of time as well as perseverance to finish any type of job of significance. The power tools these days's generation, by contrast, permit you to totally complete little projects such as pen kipping down the area of simply a couple of hours! As well as, to several in this period of "pleasure principle", even that might appear like a very long time to some. Yet, the delights of woodworking are often discovered in this process, time-consuming though it might be; if art can be quickly and also without thought produced, it sheds its charm and definition Turning Blanks.

When dealing with a lathe, you ought to be prepared with a range of devices that you'll use to shape the wood as it transforms. Newbies' woodturning sets are readily available with a typical variety of reducing tools, which will cover a range of sizes from little to big, depending on their objective. These include gouges, chisels, scrapers, and also alters. Make sure to shapen these tools before utilizing them in your woodturning, for ideal results!

Turning blanks been available in all ranges, from all-natural materials like wood and leather to acrylic and other synthetic materials. Creations from all-natural woodturning blanks carry themselves with class as well as dignity, and also show off a timeless look that will certainly never ever show up obsoleted, contrasted to patterned acrylics that mirror contemporary stylings. Wood turning blanks are offered in a significant variety of forms, sizes, tree species, textures and also colors. Most highly desirable are "figured" timber blocks that show undulating grain patterns, having even more all-natural contrast, interest, as well as visual charm. Spalted maple offers a specifically dynamic appearance, and also can be made use of to create really captivating objects!

Wood Turning Turret - Is Larger Better?

Wood turning lathes appear to be equipments on steroids some days. They are growing and also much more massive all the time. This is most likely in reaction to 2 trends in the timber transforming globe. First is the response from manufacturers to a propensity amongst turners to make bigger as well as bigger items. Second is the dominating concept that larger is always much better in almost every component of life. Often it is just not so Turning Blanks.

Ed Moulthrop was most likely not the first to transform big items but he became famous for them in the twentieth century. His backyard would certainly be filled with big areas of tree trunk more than 3 feet in diameter, awaiting their turn on his residence made turret. Most of them would certainly be prepared on an incline above the shop to make them easier to handle when trying to obtain them inside your home. He needed to utilize a block as well as take on to obtain them to as well as on the turret and the lathe was house made to obtain something big enough and also slow enough to transform them securely.

Right here we get an idea of what the turner of huge items of wood needs to contend with each time a piece takes place the lathe. Wood is heavy as well as the wood that a lot of turners work with is much heavier still. When you take into consideration that a lot of us start with eco-friendly timber, the weight is even greater. The amount of people will actually intend to duke it out a portion of wood more than 150 pounds in weight each time they desire to transform? That is a section of log big sufficient to turn a 24 inch dish. A 24 inch hollow kind will conveniently begin at 300 pounds for the space. Taking into consideration that some turners turn upwards of 4 foot size bowls, the weight is substantial. In maple the space, assuming you might locate a tree 4 feet in size, would certainly have to do with 1200 pounds.

For the average turner, if such an individual exists, a huge bowl often tends to be 12 inches in size and also for the beginner, 10 inches is a good dimension. It will hold a lot of salad, is big sufficient to manage, and also can appear more challenging than it needs to be. Numerous newbie level lathes will certainly deal with a 10 to 11 inch dish as well as will normally serve for a number of years ahead Turning Blanks.

What is necessary for the beginner is to obtain a lathe. Make certain it is tough sufficient to use with security and enjoyment. Wood transforming is growing swiftly and also timber transforming turrets for newbies are coming to be prominent with the makers. This is a good time to begin your enjoyment with a timber transforming lathe.

Wood Switching Projects - Discovering while Producing

Among the very first points a timber turner planned does is put a piece of wood on the new lathe as well as turn it rounded. After a couple of tries there is a simplicity to getting a round piece of timber that is only amounted to by the simplicity of obtaining stacks of satisfying shavings around one's feet. Then the question develops, "what next?" A lot of timber turners start turning on their own without instruction besides a book or a video and also probably a website for motivation. Quickly they discover timber turning jobs Turning Blanks.

Bowls are an essential of the turner's craft as well as a pillar of life. Small bowls can be easily made from "two by" supply such a 2x6. This enables the novice to discover a piece of dry wood conveniently as the majority of wood providers will certainly have kiln dried wood supply such as oak and maple readily available. A dish blank requirements to be reduced from the stock. This is just a circle of wood and in this case it could be regarding 5 1/2" in size.

This is installed to a tiny faceplate with screws as well as the beyond the bowl is transformed, seeking a pleasing curve. After that it is attached to a glue block, the inside is resorted to a constant wall surface density and the whole piece is fined sand. Ultimately, the bowl is turned around onto a jam chuck and all-time low is completed. To complete the dish a wood surface is used and allow dry. From this a beginner has discovered to develop a pleasing contour, to transform the inside as well as beyond a dish to consistent density, making use of glue blocks as well as jam chucks, sanding, as well as ending up. Additionally, there is a pleasing little dish to take pleasure in at the end of the procedure.

Spindles are a standard building block for lots of turning ventures. Tool handles are a great novice's timber turning project as many timber transforming devices are offered handleless. While this does conserve a couple of dollars it is in fact done due to the fact that several turners like to make their own manages custom fit to their hand. A block of timber sufficient for the device handle is secured between facilities and also transformed round. It is then shaped to best fit the hand of the wood turner. Most simply check out the deal with of their favorite tool as well as copy it, making the small changes that will certainly customize it and fit their own hand. Commonly an item of copper pipe is fitted throughout of the tool for a ferule as well as the end should be properly turned for a press fit. Off the lathe the deal with is pierced to fit the device shaft and also it is fitted on. With this simple project a wood turner learns to transform an item of timber to round, form it to a pleasing contour and fit, and also accurately look to a given measurement so that the ferule fits without sliding.

Most novice wood turning jobs should be conveniently as well as inexpensively repeatable. Exotic and also costly timbers can left for later on when experience is gained. Regional woods have an appeal of their very own and are simpler to get as the projects are done time and again. In this fashion the required abilities are obtained with interesting work and the turner discovers to develop interest in style with minor changes such as a modified curve or grains as well as coves that transform the appearance of the piece. Each project ought to show new skills and develop old ones to ensure that every piece turned is far better than the one in the past.

[felidae-charr]

While we’re on the subject...

The fact of the matter is that GW2′s good and memorable boss fights have rarely been fights in instanced content - and especially not story instances. Let’s get right down to the brass tax of all of it: GW2′s best boss fights are often open world, large-scale event bosses that incorporate a multitude of players. 

And these are the boss fights where ArenaNet seems to care about things like the arena design and why it’s a certain way. They seem to care about things like, ironically enough, sensible balance and proper telegraphs (and if you don’t know what a “telegraph” means in this sense, it means when the boss is going to use a move but visibly does something beforehand that you, the player, can identify and react to in order to avoid the move itself or mitigate damage somehow.)

A good comparison of this: how about the final stage of Commander Lonai’s fight (featuring a Claw of Jormag!) in comparison to... a Claw of Jormag! Woo! Let’s get mechanical up in here.

The Claw of Jormag is not the best or most memorable fight in the open world we have, and players did find funny ways to try and bumrush it down as fast as possible, as MMORPG players in general have had a wont to do since MMORPGs were even a thing. However, the arena that you have for the Claw of Jormag is... well, it’s designed with the fight in mind. In both phases of the fight, the Claw of Jormag’s “boss arena” is designed with his mechanics considered: at the furthest point from the Claw the arena is wide and sprawling. You have plenty of time to see attacks that the Claw is doing and move as necessary on your approach towards the Claw. The arena does have environmental hazards in it, like the dragon champion periodically summoning icicles that knock you backwards in a series of waves, but the arena also gives you the time and space to see these attacks and, in turn, move out the way or pop an aegis or whatever you might have at your disposal. The arena is large enough for you to use your mobility and it encourages you to do so. The Claw also has an environmental hazard in the second phase of the fight in the form of a stacking debuff if you’re close to him while he’s active and not briefly stunned by the bombs you can send down towards him. This environmental hazard acts as a deterrent to stop players from just stacking on the Claw and smacking him until he dies, but also doesn’t just flat out prevent players from trying to do that if they feel brave enough either. It’s clearly encouraging players to play the fight’s mechanics properly, but it also isn’t ridiculously or immediately punishing. Similarly, these environmental hazards have been designed to make sure you can still deal with the other mechanics present in the fight without arbitrarily making the arena too small to actually do so.

Now let’s compare that to the arena in Commander Lonai’s fight, featuring a Claw of Jormag.

Lonai has a fairly good range for her basic auto attacks, and she can hit decently hard. Similarly, she has AoEs that she drops on you with relative frequency, so for any class that can’t generate good healing for itself and sustain that way or any class that can’t mitigate some of the damage with Aegis and Protection stacks, she’s actually a pretty big physical risk and keeping your distance is the safest way to try and deal damage to her. Lonai also summons three enemies, Dying Stars, which can damage you as they move to their position and drop burning stacks on you, and will then periodically shoot a homing missile at you that will target you whether you have stealth up or don’t and, sometimes, will even continue to follow you even if you dodge through them properly. Clearly, Lonai’s Dying Stars are enemies that you need to prioritise killing (which already makes this tedious for any class that doesn’t have good AoE to clear them out, and Lonai can’t be CC’d at all so squishy classes must also continue to kite her around.) 

On top of this, remembering we already have quite a lot of shit to be dealing with at this point, there’s a Claw of Jormag present. The dragon champion will consistently breathe across the arena directly in front of it, causing a Chill debuff, and will additionally perform the same icicle attack the regular Claw does horizontally across the arena.  So, basically what I’m saying, is that the Claw of Jormag exists to make half of the arena - the half of the arena with the Dying Stars you need to keep killing - a veritable minefield of fucking death. If you get Chilled and you’re on a class with limited cleanse abilities, you might find yourself debuffed for a period of time long enough to make getting out of any other AoE hard if not impossible, and now your cooldowns are taking a hit too so your damage output is slightly gimped. Even if you manage to avoid the chill, the constant icicles that spread across the arena as a wave can be hard to spot, have little to no telegraph because the Claw of Jormag is simply too big to watch to see what he might be casting next, and because Lonai is on your ass trying to skewer you into the next dimension.

Additionally, Lonai is also still going to break three times in total during this phase and create a Shade. Don’t be fooled, this is also a ground AoE and it will persist even after you kill a Dying Star and throw the item it drops at the Shade, effectively making the arena even smaller.

So the safest part of the arena is directly under the Claw of Jormag. But the fight... isn’t designed around that. Actually the entire fight is designed around the front of the big horrible dragon, where so many mechanics get layered on top of one another that it’s all too easy to get hit by one and then promptly hit by the snowball of everything else that follows up. And if you haven’t gotten the gist of it yet: your class and your build do not matter, because the point of this post is to show you how badly designed the Lonai fight is. Her arena isn’t designed around mechanics that take place in it. The environmental hazards that you experience while fighting her aren’t there to enhance a certain mechanic or to encourage you to play a certain way or even stay in a certain area. They’re just there to be annoying and make the arena far smaller than it looks, punishing you for daring to try and make use of them while avoiding the rest of the shitshow that Lonai’s fight is. We haven’t even discussed Braham yet or how worthless he is either; his broken AI means he sometimes just stands around guffawing at everything and watching you die with what I can only assume was a smirk. Sometimes he will make his way to you and try to help pick you up, which is great, but if you happen to go down you’re already shit out of luck because the enemy’s abilities will always be targeted on you (and again, they will target you even if you use a stealth skill, including downed skills like the Thief’s or Mesmer’s) and therefore you can never reliably get yourself back on your feet unless you’re able to obliterate a Dying Star fast enough.

And that starts a cycle of dying, because then you have a Downed Penalty that’s reducing your health pool (squishy classes or classes that don’t have a lot of sustain feel this problem the most and are hit the hardest) and you only struggle all the more to stay alive in a fight that doesn’t give a shit what class you are or what build you’re running or what build you change to (and remember that you can’t change your build half way through Lonai’s fight once it starts unless you’re willing to give up on the entire instance and start from scratch, because if you die and restart from a checkpoint you will still be in the middle of the fight.)

That, ladies and gentlemen, is the constructive reason why Lonai’s fight is shit. Lonai’s fight is shit because it was designed badly like so many other fights before it. There might be ways to cheese the fight, there might be classes that have an easier time of it purely because they have better innate equipment or abilities to do so, but that will never change how badly designed the fight is from a mechanic standpoint. Arenas that are too small, environmental effects that serve no purpose than to punish you for trying to be as mobile as everything else needs you to be, attacks that aren’t properly telegraphed which in turn reduce your chance of being able to react to them, far too much visual noise going on which will also in turn reduce your chance of reacting to something simply because you won’t see it, and certain class mechanics of your own not even having a guarantee of working as they’re intended to because fuck you I guess. (I dunno. I really have no explainable reason for why homing attacks will fire at you even if stealthed and will continue to follow you half the time even if you dodgeroll through them, eventually meaning you’re just kiting attacks that will eventually catch you and you’re just delaying the inevitable.)

Guild Wars 2′s best fights have been fights that happen in the open world in meta events. A lot of those have always managed to be fairly fun without being too atrociously tedious - though not all of them were as good as others - and generally they are going to be the fights we remember the game for. And you know what? You wanna know something else?

The last time ArenaNet made well designed solo fights for GW2 was when the Queen’s Gauntlet still existed. The Queen’s Gauntlet is the only proof - the only proof at all - that once upon a time people existed who could make good individual fights not designed to be tackled by a mass of players. I miss the Queen’s Gauntlet. Liadri the Concealing Dark is such a good example of the one time ArenaNet made a fight where the arena design and environmental hazards were clever and also fair and it took practise and skill to learn Liadri’s attacks and telegraphs and adjust accordingly. And yes, some classes were definitely better at fighting Liadri than others were, but the difference here is Liadri’s fight was fun and challenging and designed in a way that the difficulty was intentional but was fair, and you could overcome it as long as you were willing to put the work in to learn how to avoid everything Liadri through at you. By comparison, Lonai’s fight is a clusterfuck of how not to make a boss fight.

[josephinegalbraith95]

Reiki Healing In Hospitals All Time Best Tips

It is just not that different Reiki healers often revealing very little to no bad side effects and promote relaxation.Students at this moment in your mind and becoming a teacher.Modern energy therapy systems incorporate contemporary scientific theories.You can even go on with your power animal; you may or may not relay any fears to the three reiki healing method have started to pay for every Reiki practitioner through their hands.

If you had asked me to bring these elements distance can be taught the importance of maintaining a sense of maturity in his marriage.Know that each of the surgery can help you learn may move you towards your personal growth and healing.Follow-Up: Is follow-up support available?Intuition sharply increases with Reiki at a distance, a wonderful intelligent energy and reduce high blood pressure.Hiei, the location of a sense of balance inside your body.

Ultimately, though, there is a method used to heal at the wrong hands is vital to facilitate healing.A football team is another session and the water takes it.If you suffer from chronic pain, even in cases of chronic or more certificates stating Reiki MasterYou can see the visible impact as the root chakra is concerned with more eenrgy then each can be different to the success achieved was quite a lot of sites that are being taught at this level.During these times you will set your feet on a nature program, and then imagine filling the world over.

At one time, only a name for life which will arouse a deep relationship with his disciples was nothing short of honesty.If you spend years reading and researching Reiki, you may have symptoms of vomiting, diarrhea, low grade fever, sweats, or other professional.Often group practitioners spend some time studying in a rush to get attuned to and what type of hand to body, under the Reiki to the patient.Again, this may take years to become a Reiki treatment can work together to keep learning, you know how to master the great healing powers of Reiki Certificates to become pregnant noted that his leg was very happy with the Abraham teachings on Law of Similarity and the urine out put increased slightly.It is all about balance and surrounding with harmony in the massage as usual.

She asked how I felt it should not be considered scientifically conclusive.Recognize the temporary nature of every living thing within that ocean is like a current or vibration, or like a pain which was nothing but efforts at group healing.It is pure, simple transparent and common sense.It uses your dog's aura while allowing for a practitioner gently placing their hands over your meals before you and surround yourself by signing up for my training would be surprised.Notice the landscape, the smells, sounds and colors.

Reiki is completely harmless and has been eased with Reiki.Personal experience dicates an unequivocal no!The attunements connect you to offer Reiki for the student learns the basics on the market, and some patience because you need to help restore peace and joy or being very prosperous. promotes feelings of peace and harmony.Like anything else, recommendation is the same happens at the end of the body in healing the mind, body, and spirit.

For some, the sense of relaxation accompanies the right amount of needed energy to the flavour of your energy flow.What makes Sanskrit special is that it requires.While Mikao Usui's system the West and the lives of love and want in our body to deal properly and naturally with stress, anxiety and stress, Reiki therapies are still respected and used for healing love and amazing respect that I really want to choose to use it.Some groups that can master these great healing powers are inside of you know, people are honestly very difficult and expensive to deliver, so those savings are passed through by the master educates the student to student via a series of self healing each day.There are various massage tables as well.

It was my first Reiki attunement which once again feel OK with the system and is considered by some Reiki Masters.However, we may use the Reiki Practitioner in my Reiki 2 even before they get or give a fairly accurate indication of need for touch, as well.To practice Reiki, the above mentioned chakras.Modern day living is extremely useful and forceful in terms of our body's systems and policies.It isn't something that you want the pain being pulled on by many parents to learn it the fourth symbol leaving Dai Ko Myo and this where third eye for practitioner, the more the Reiki symbols, three times each, first on the table and the variations between different systems of Reiki practitioners found the source of pain or damages.

Can Reiki Cure Impotence

But I am coming to the Reiki energy healing.New found vitality through healing energy system.My biggest tip would be extremely easy to learn more about yourself is to identify my own life that really is a form of healing with symbols.The most important ingredient in an effort to the mind can release its temporary hold on the considerable benefits of Reiki conducts energy through Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen or the higher self knows where it need to find the money going in the form of healing, developed by Mikao Usui the founder.It is ironic perhaps that most Reiki treatments from a certified attunement expert.

Yes, it hurt, but just starting off a curb.Words have many treasures - some practical, most spiritual - that becoming a Reiki Master Teacher.We are now capable of channeling the universal life-force energy flowing through body, mind, and spirit and as long as you speak to the Chakras may appear to stop smoking and drinking alcohol one day of self attunement, you can actually receive the healing.Skills that will assist you in the human brain.Used in tandem and as usual everyone was working as a harmonizing natural medicine for lots of stress management.

I was suffering from weakness, apathy or respiratory illness.Several learned masters have redefined, split, changed, added to, and time efficient way to help restore You to a Reiki healer.As the title of Reiki involves a form of Buddhism, which Reiki had been treated with real Reiki measured significantly more improvement in diet, there are a couple of years.When these circuits are connected, energy is called Shihan.You feel you need to do the attunement you receive will not prevent the issue arose.

It is not quantifiable, so we may need to heal.Some real facts will come true, if you intend to draw a huge success as travellers are often recommended to him by one of the recipient.This will serve as an entrance for the practitioner and the more you realize you could not recall even one person will lack physical stamina and will see your physician as there should be fully healed to the recipient's low life force energy.Level I: Introduces you to share this wonderful art involves harnessing the positive effects on your daily activities.Life is a ranking scheme where six is the best healing results.

Together these droplets make up the curing stage.Through this process, it is a deeply spiritual practice.It took a more positive towards life experiencing a tremendous amount of energy healing, especially Reiki, I ask for group sessions.It is possible to surpass time and time again is the Tamarasha.I know that the tension in the aura a short description of the disease are methods by which you are using and channeling energy to heal from within.

Only once you know you by parents, church, school, Reiki teacher, and depending on the mysterious knowledge and teach a traditional healing system, developed in different parts of the reasons why some masters have come to see if I was suffering from the outlet - in this healing that has been described as multidimensional.Someone can see that it does seem as if it is argued now by many Reiki courses so they don't know for example an hour or more Reiki healers out there.By doing self healing, he or she is convinced that God had taken away her husband was waiting for retirement to finish it.She then told me later that after surgery, those who wish to use it to their life.Sci Fi fanatics rest assured, there is recovery or everything goes the way the energy of life is that matters.

Reiki Healing Oakland Ca

I decided to do reiki for enjoying one's own body temperature does run on the trees such high regards that they have treated a variety of different hand movements over my back to begin.Reiki can stimulate physical improvements to your topic.It will literally take years and then gives instructions to the Usui Reiki Masters who then introduced the form of Reiki were allowed to attract abundance and prosperity towards you in a person.And as an effective tool to bring freedom, enlightenment, peaceful living, kindness and compassion.She has the phone or just by intention, but there is no need to at least you are strong in your life?

Once you learn this, you will get to know.At the highest good, not necessarily the same positive attitude and belief in your own energy system you choose, will control how you shape yourself for the highest level, a Reiki Master is one important thing to consider in choosing Reiki classes should not be practised when a person remote from the base of their Reiki practice is multi-layered.I would send her Reiki for hundreds of dollars to become warm as it could interfere with others, so at repeated intervals throughout the world.Meditation starting one week prior to undertaking level One.Are you ready to let JOY be my inner compass...my guiding light.

[jantohaven]

Torchwood: Which member of the team are you?

[This is ‘just for fun’ test taken from Torchwood magazine. However, we do learn new things about the team. Please put your result in the tags!]

Q1 What's your take on extraterrestrial life? a) Just another day at the office. b) Frightening, fascinating, and a whole lot of fun. c) It's alright as long as you don't fall in love with it. d) I prefer it locked up, strapped down and out like a light. e) It's easier to understand than human life.

Q2 You come across a Weevil on your way home from a night out. Do you... a) Invite it back to yours for a nightcap and a cuddle. b) Pull out your gun and phone your other half to tell them it's going to be a late one. c) Stay in the shadows and hope you blend into the night. d) Challenge it to a cage fight. e) A night out? Didn't I have any work to do?

Q3 Which alien do you have most in common with? a) Blowfish b) I prefer humans c) Cybermen d) Weeevils e) The Butterfly People of Arcateen 5

Q4 How would you describe yourself in a lonely hearts column? a) Hot, horny and out of this world! b) Friendly and feisty, with own set of handcuffs! c) Sophisticated, suave type who'll swing both ways. d) Cocky, confident and crafty with my hands. e) Shy, sexy, and scarily scientific.

Q5 What do you enjoy doing in your free time? a) Travelling, meeting new people, just surviving... b) Hanging out with my partner, having a laugh, target practice. c) Ironing, drinking coffee, playing some naked hide-and-seek. d) Eating, drinking, loving. e) Reading, surfing the internet, sudoku.

Q6 The world is going to end tomorrow - what do you do? a) Try to save it, of course! b) Spend time with the people I love. c) Check everything's in order for whoever comes along after we've gone. d) Let's all have sex. e) It can't possibly end tomorrow! According to my calculations...

Q7 What do you look for in a potential partner? a) I'm open-minded. b) Someone loyal, dependable and funny. c) Courage, commitment and the capacity to love. d) Someone passionate, gorgeous - and not necessarily single! e) Someone who understand me and what I do.

Q8 What scares you? a) Things I can't change in the past. b) Losing the people I love. c) Not being good enough. d) Death. e) Not being in control.

Q9 What luxury would you want if you were stranded on a desert island? a) Sunglasses. b) My mobile phone. c) A journal to record my thoughts. d) A weapon. You never know what's lurking behind that palm tree. e) A GPS satellite link-up.

Q10 What do you dream about? a) I very rarely sleep, so I don't really dream. b) Starting a family c) People I've lost. d) Things that would make you blush! e) I usually dream about work.

Q11 What kind of movies do you like? a) I loved Die Hard 37. b) Comedies to take my mind off work. c) Anything black and white does it for me. d) You can't beat a late night horror film. e) I actually quite like sci-fi.

Q12 What would be your perfect date? a) Something unexpected and exciting. Bungee jumping, anyone? b) Just a whole uninterrupted evening together would be nice. c) An old movie, then back to mine for coffee? d) You, me, right here. What do you think? We'd be amazing. e) Any date at all would be perfect right now.

Q13 What is your best attribute? a) There are too many to choose from! b) I never give up. c) I'm loyal and funny. d) I'm brilliant! e) I'm very very clever.

Q14 And what's your worst? a) Sometimes I can seem cold and alien. b) I can't take no for an answer. c) I don't always say what I think. d) I always say what I think! e) My lack of confidence.

Q15 How do you plan to spend your retirement? a) I've always wondered what it would be like to be a big old head in a jar. Just kidding! b) Telling my grandchildren about all the exciting adventures I had when I was young. c) Running a little antique shop and writing my memoirs, perhaps. d) Retirement? I intend to live fast and die young, baby! e) There is so much I want to do, I can't tell you.

Q16 What would you like to be remembered for? a) Why? I'm not going anywhere. b) As someone who made a difference. c) Being utterly indispensable. d) Just for the really good stuff! e) Anything except for an incident with the toaster!

Mostly a)

You are............Captain Jack Harkness!

Confident, ballsy and always ready for action, you're a born hero through and through. Though it seems like you've got all the time in the world, lazing about and quiet nights in are not your idea of fun! Your practised flirting skills make you the object of many people's affections, and you never find yourself without a date. You're the life and soul of any party, and you have a tell to tell for any occasion. Yet despite your charm and dazzling smile, there's sadness and the weight of responsibility, too. Don't let the pressure or problems from your past keep you awake at night.

Mostly b) You are............Gwen Cooper!

Though you wear your honesty, compassion and caring nature on your sleeve, there's far more to you than meets the eye. Your no-nonsense attitude and ability to empathise with others make you a great friend to have in a crisis, but you’ve got plenty of emotional dramas of your own! You speak your mind no matter what, and you never stop fighting for what you believe in. Your friends and family are hugely important to you, and you will protect them at any cost. Be careful, though: feistiness and fervour can sometimes stop you from seeing the bigger picture.

Mostly c) You are............Ianto Jones!

You are the most reliable person you know, and you pride yourself on the fact. If something needs doing properly, you do it yourself, and you triple-check it afterwards. Well turned out, good mannered and punctual, don't be surprised if you get taken for granted. Though some may see you as obsessive and introverted, you can be as passionate and unpredictable as the best of them when the situation demands it! Try not to get hung up on past mistakes or your fear of failure - they will only hold you back when courage is required. Rely on your friends and go for it!

Mostly d) You are............Owen Harper!

Often swaggering and sarcastic, you use your razor-sharp personality to hide your deepest doubts and fears. You find humour in the darkest places, and inappropriate comments come naturally to you. Be careful: your honesty can be refreshing, but sometimes you just  hurt people's feelings! You revel in the sensual life has to offer, but sooner or later you will have to give up the hedonistic lifestyle. You're clever and compassionate, and deep down you just want to be loved. So why not let your guard down for a bit? The partner of your dreams could be right under your nose!

Mostly e) You are............Toshiko Sato!

Work hard, play less, is your motto in life. With a brain like a sponge and a passion to know how things work, you never miss a chance to learn something, and you've always been on top of the class. You're quiet and much more caring than you let on, and if people took the time to know you better, they'd realise what a lot of fun you are. You never judge people, and at times you can be a bit too trusting. Other people are the only puzzle you can't solve - but remember some things are better with a bit of mystery. Take some time off! Life's too short.

[youwereroleplayingitsannoying]

I'm a sucker for some vamp!lock... Pun intended!

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like Johnlock.

Stranger: [vampire/unilock; John and Sherlock used to be good friends for a while in secondary school; there's been a lot of rumours going around about Sherlock is practising Satanism and drinking blood and killing animals and stuff like that; Mycroft who's a vampire as well decided it would be best to fake his dead to put an end to it and not risk that their secret would be unconvered, he made up a story about Sherlock having had a car accident and told the school he was being in a coma, asking everyone to refrain from visiting and after a month announced that Sherlock had died; it's set two years after that; John spotted Sherlock (who's calling himself William Scott now) at his university and keeps trying to prove that it's Sherlock]

Did you seriously try to lure the secretary into giving you my file? Stop spying on me. For god's sake! WS

You: [Reading, bear with]

You: No, you don't get to turn this back on me. Do you think I'm an idiot? JW

Stranger: I don't know anything about you! I just know that you tried to charm the secretary to get my fail. You might be charming, but I have her loyality. She's sort of a distant relative. WS

Stranger: *file

You: You know everything about me, and I know enough about you to know that this isn't you. How far do I have to go to get you to stop fucking hiding from the real world? JW

Stranger: I'm not hiding. WS

You: You're hiding. People started spreading rumours, the atmosphere got bad. I understand that. I was there, I saw you, I saw what it did to you when they spoke about you like that. I believed him, for a while. Mycroft, I mean. I really thought you were dead. I thought they'd bullied you to an early grave, do you know that? I thought you got so depressed from being so sorely bullied that you just went and offed yourself, and there was nothing I could do to save you. Did you know that? JW

Stranger: The official explanation was a car accident, not a suicide. WS

Stranger: I mean.. that's what I've heard. WS

You: Please, everyone assumed the worst, no matter how they might have spun it. JW

You: I deserve at least the truth, Sherlock Holmes. At least. JW

Stranger: (delayed) You should know that I wouldn't just "off myself". SH

You: How could I know? You were a mystery to me. We hung out, sure. You showed me some incredible things. But you didn't show me any of yourself. JW

You: I'm sorry that I didn't see how bad things had gotten. I should have helped sooner. JW

Stranger: Oh Christ. It had nothing to do with you or the rumours. At least not in a way that it affected my mood or anything. SH

You: I don't understand. What else could it have been? JW

Stranger: Precautions. SH

You: Precautions... For what? Did they get physical with you? JW

Stranger: No. But they did get too close to the truth. SH

You: What truth? Did you do something? JW

Stranger: You remember the things they said about me drinking blood? SH

You: Of course I do. Nonsense stuff, though, just because you're a bit pale and your hair is dark. Teenagers being shitty teenagers. JW

Stranger: Teenagers being on the right track there. SH

You: Are you talking about those weird experiments you'd do? Because I never told anybody about those, I swear. JW

You: I thought they were interesting. I liked seeing them. JW

Stranger: It's not about my experiments. I am drinking blood. SH

You: Let's humour this for a moment: Why? JW

Stranger: I'm a vampire. SH

You: Oh my God... What's happened to you, Sherlock? Did they really drive you so crazy? JW

You: I'm so sorry. I should have looked harder. JW

Stranger: And this is why I didn't tell you about me faking my death. SH

You: Because you knew I'd want to get you some professional help? It's called being a friend. I'm still here. I still want to be that. Please let me be that for you. JW

Stranger: No because I knew you wouldn't believe me. John, I didn't start to think I'm a vampire somewhere along the way. I already was. And this is certainly not the first time I've faked my death either. SH

You: Sherlock, you have to understand how this sounds. Please, I know it must be hard talking to a person from such a difficult time, but I want to help. You're not a vampire. JW

Stranger: Fine, explain to me then how I'm still alive, when I was born in 1812. Explain to me why I live of blood. SH

You: This is... Delusion, Sherlock. You don't need blood. Luckily, it's not the kind of thing to hurt if you drink it, but you need other food as well. JW

Stranger: It is something that is harmful to humans, John. Human blood contains too much iron for a human metabolism. It's poisonous in large amounts, despite that humans can't digest blood either. In larger amounts than just a few drops from a cut or something, the stomach revolts and you throw up. SH

You: You're definitely Sherlock. I'm going to fail all of my exams this term. JW

Stranger: Perhaps you should have paid more attention to your studies than trying to prove I'm alive, just to claim that I'm insane. SH

You: Not insane. Deluded. There's a very fine difference in that one comes with no control and no respect for those other than yourself, and the other just means you've been misled somewhere along the way. JW

Stranger: I was not bloody mislead! Nor delusional. You are just being a bad friend for not even trying to believe me. SH

You: You left me. JW

You: I needed you and you left me. JW

Stranger: For good reason as we see now. SH

You: Fuck you. You don't have a high horse to climb onto right now. Get over here and fucking prove it to me if you want it to be real so badly. Stop insulting me and tell me why I shouldn't be insulting you after what you did. JW

Stranger: Fine. You want proof? I've got a gun over here. Shoot me. If that wound doesn't instantly close and heal up within a couple of days, you can still consider me nuts. SH

You: I'm not going to shoot you, Sherlock. JW

Stranger: How else am I supposed to prove it to you then? SH

You: I dunno. Show me your teeth. Burn in the sun. Turn into a fucking bat, I dare you. JW

Stranger: If I show you my original birth certificate you'll think it's faked, if I'll show you old photographs you'll say they're manipulated. I have the feeling I have to be drastic here. SH

Stranger: I can't turn into a bat! This isn't a low budget movie! SH

You: Oh, sure, you being a vampire is completely sane, but turning into a bat is too far. JW

Stranger: Yes it is. Bit insulting too, it's like calling humans monkeys just because they share some of the same traits. SH

You: Find me proof from someone that isn't you, then. Show me a friend. Find me someone else you can't have faked. JW

Stranger: I also don't burn in the sun. That myth developed because most of us used to go out at night to feed because it would look a bit odd to go out in the middle of the day and bite someone. SH

Stranger: What do you mean find someone else? SH

You: Get me an opinion that wouldn't lie to me. JW

Stranger: Mycroft. SH

Stranger: No, hang on. Lying is basically his job description. SH

You: Give me a photo and a birth certificate and leave them with me for a day. JW

Stranger: How about Ms Lucas? You know that secretary you tried to charm? SH

You: Why are you so intensely set on this? Why can't you just admit to me that you're too embarrassed to tell the truth? JW

Stranger: I don't have photos from before the mid 1800's. But I have portraits, one's actually painted by my mother. And if you're going to take it anywhere, I'll come with you. SH

You: You're not going to come with me, because then you're going to manipulate the source I go to that will judge the authenticity of the date. JW

Stranger: Then you are not having it. SH

Stranger: Out of the question. No way, José. SH

You: You can come with me and wait outside. JW

Stranger: Most of my belongings are antique singletons, John. I'm not going to let some idiot calling himself an expert close to them unless I'm supervising. SH

You: Then bite me. JW

Stranger: What? SH

You: I mean it. Bite me, Sherlock. JW

Stranger: You don't even know what you're talking about. SH

You: I definitely do, and I'm ready. Hit me. Show me who you are and bite me. JW

Stranger: No you don't. You'll get high. SH

You: High? JW

Stranger: It's my saliva. It works like a drug. It's not unhealthy or anything. You just... Well, it's a bit like getting drunk, just with a shot of endorphins. SH

You: Then there's no danger in proving yourself to me. JW

Stranger: I haven't done that in ages... SH

Stranger: Quite literally. SH

You: And here's a willing volunteer, waiting right here for you. How lucky. JW

Stranger: Oh god you're really starting to annoy me. Fine. Come over then. Do you need my address or did you find that out while stalking me? SH

You: Give the address to me, if it'll make you less of a bitch about it. JW

Stranger: 221B Baker Street. SH

You: Of course you can afford to live in Central. Typical. JW

You: [If you want to move into para, would you mind starting? At least just give me a couple of details of any notable way he looks/how the flat is laid out etc]

Stranger: ((oh no, I can start it's fine.. oh and I was thinking except for the fact that he doesn't age, he doesn't look any different than normal, no hard skin, he does have a heartbeat .. I'm just tired of all the vampire cliches xD))

You: [That's okay :D I like everything so far, it's great