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natromanxoff · 3 years

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Queen live at Oakland Coliseum Arena in Oakland, CA, USA - September 7, 1982 (Part-1)

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The band are in great form tonight, full of vitality and passion. Only the intro of Rock It is performed from now onward. When the vocal is expected to re-enter after the rhythm section joins in, the band jump into the first verse of the fast We Will Rock You. John Deacon's bass solo after the second chorus is aggressive, and overall the band are clearly happy to be playing the longer version of the song again - although they do have a bit of trouble getting out of the middle section together, but they recover well. Freddie offers a great version of Play The Game. After the song, he has a word with the enthusiastic audience. "So here we are, back again in Oakland after a long time. Has everybody been keeping okay since we've been away?" Naturally everyone says "yeah", and Freddie replies, "Bullshit!" He continues, "Anyway, we have a lot of new songs for you since we were here last, and this next one is a song for all the girls here tonight, you know what I mean? The real girls. If you've got tits or if you haven't got tits it don't matter." The girls quickly stop cheering as Freddie is just trying too hard when he actually doesn't have to. He attempts to recover, "You just don't understand English. It doesn't matter. This is a Roger Taylor composition [the mention of Roger's name gets the girls screaming again] entitled Calling All Girls." Just before the first chorus of the song, Freddie adlibs, "I've got a message for you babe!" After the second chorus, following "take a message of love for all to hear," he adds to the energy with a few spontaneous words: "Have you got it? Can you hear it? Can you feel it?" Tonight is the first known performance of the Hot Space rocker Put Out The Fire, segueing from the vocal improv of Now I'm Here (Freddie doesn't have the lyrics perfected yet, which suggests it hasn't been performed too many times - fan club magazines from the period say the song was performed as a standalone piece earlier in the tour). After the second chorus, the band seamlessly jump into Dragon Attack. The combination of these three songs seems to recall the medley idea that had been dropped in 1981. After Now I'm Here, Freddie challenges the audience to one of his usual vocal duels. For the first time, he is heard singing "Dee do de de", something that would become part of the lyrics of "Living On My Own" off his first solo album in 1985. Shortly thereafter, after an "alright" that's held for a few seconds, he shouts, "You can do it!" in encouragement, after which he says, "Not bad! It's amazing what you will do if you're pushed." He really takes a liking to this audience. During the next song, Save Me, instead of singing the line "I love you 'til I die," he speaks the words "I love ya", and during the three quiet beats leading into the first chorus, he quickly and poignantly adds, "don't forget it!" Freddie once again dedicates Fat Bottomed Girls to "people who like fucking a lot." In the second verse of Crazy Little Thing Called Love, he modifies a lyric to say "she knows how to fuck and roll." One can draw their own conclusions as to where Freddie Mercury's mind was at on this tour. He turns in a very passionate version of Bohemian Rhapsody (despite not being in full voice by the end of the show), where everything seems to come home to him. Only he knew what the song really meant, but plenty have suggested that the proverbial man being killed in the first verse as told to his mother is his former self that had not yet come to terms with his sexuality. A clash of worlds in 1982, if that's the case. Matt Granz (also with a story from San Francisco '77) fondly shares his memories of this show here:

“This photo is from Queen's last Bay area show ever with Freddie Mercury. With the new direction that they took with the album "The Game" Brian May stated that Queen had "gained the world, but lost America". I think that after they played a Los Angeles gig or two after this particular show that they never did come back to the US. That is truly sad since they were one of the most charismatic of all rock groups to ever play on a stage. This concert was no exception! This photo was taken during Brian's echo solo. The three lights backlighting Brian belonged to one of two manned light pods that followed him around the stage. It was a spectacular effect!

The friend I went to the concert with (who's name I can't even begin to recall) took his SLR 35mm and I took a pocket fixed focus... after seeing me lament over the bad quality of my images he took mercy on me and sold me this memory as an 8x10 B&W Glossy that I kept secured in a folder... and just recently rediscovered and decided to digitize these many years later. My own pics from the concert all came out underexposed... drat! His SLR had some great lenses and he had his own darkroom. He also had great access to many good spots to shoot from.

By the way… remember the days when you didn't need a press badge to bring a camera to a concert? What happened??? Lawyers, I'll tell ya... Lawyers.

The story behind the Flying V being utilized was that at the very onset of his Echo solo, Brian busted a string on the "Red Special". He waked backstage and then shortly reappeared with this guitar. The sound was quite different. After the solo was done fifteen minutes later, he took back his own guitar and proceeded to use it for the rest of the show. It was pretty unusual to see him playing this and (besides the Tele he plays on Crazy Little Thing Called Love for the songs' first solo) have not seen him play another electric besides his main axe that he and his father made.

I was pretty poor at the time, but I liked this photo enough to buy it because of the before mentioned spectacular lighting and the fact that Brian is playing a Flying V.

Though I was not a fan of The Game, this concert was superb! I came to see Brian (being a guitarist myself) and was amazed at how distracted I was by the rest of the band. They were flawless that night and the floor seats I snuck into... 20 rows from the stage... provided the perfect viewing experience. The light show was also the best I had ever seen as well, in that it didn't distract from the music or musicians but rather pulsated perfectly with the beats and saturated the stage with great color combinations.

Freddie, Brian, Roger & John all had the whole auditorium held by the throat from the very start of the show till the last fading notes of "God Save the Queen". Sheer Excellence!” Most of the photos were taken by Sean Trend. A few of the pictures show Brian with the Gibson Flying V, as he had played in East Rutherford last month. But this time he begins his solo with the Flying V, as confirmed by someone who attended the show. Brian, in disbelief, later commented on this: http://www.brianmay.com

“Well, I'm shocked. I definitely would have sworn that I never played a solo live with a Flying V. I played around with them, but mainly at home, except for one video appearance for "Princes of the Universe" in which I'm obviously not really playing!!!

Cheers Bri”

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Part-2

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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overclocksaa · 3 years

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anon / Do you think marvel will ever make Stony canon .. it’s like the perfect ship

i think we’re gonna have to keep scraping our crumbs off the floor while marvel ignores the obvious because the dudebro readers would flip the fuck out and start whining about pushing some agenda because they have the emotional register of a plastic butter knife and can’t read the obvious tension in the room. like marvel is so careful to no homo everything about steve they can when they can, despite the literal overwhelming corners they’ve written themselves into with steve’s ~ambiguous~ sexuality (i mean ffs they called him an ally in the marvel pride issue and only gave tony a cameo in the group shot at the end when folks we been done knew) because of it that if they actually, seriously acted on any of it i’d fall the fuck out of my chair.

which is sad, i still say stevetony could be one of the more compelling romances in marvel comics - especially now, after everything they’ve been through, now that they’re finding their equilibrium together again and learning to talk to each other again and moving past old hurts and slipping back into something that’s easy, but stronger for the strife. not just because it’s a mlm ship between two long time characters, which is also important, idk why marvel is so afraid to pull the trigger on naming obviously bisexual characters - tony’s been obviously bi since the 70s, folks - but it’s more. on a literary front it’s a super interesting combination of chemistry and depth that colors literally every single one of their interactions whether marvel likes it or not. that makes sense right. it makes sense in my head. like...you can’t give us something like man out of time, which is literally one smooch away from a set up for date #2, or the confession, which is a love confession without ever using the actual three word phrase, or redzone, where it is literally framed in a romantic fashion in silhouette with pink backlighting and everything, or have a literal list of panels where, outside of everyone they’re next to they mirror the couples in the group’s poses, not the friends, or the myriad of other things that literally screams they are stupidly in love with each other (because it doesn’t go one way, there’s a list to be made on steve’s end, too), and then no homo the hell out of it. which is basically what they’re doing.

this is also ignoring the parallels tony and steve have with both wanda and vision and billy and teddy. i said what i said. one day i’ll put together that post and talk about it because there’s actually a lot, that has nothing to do with billy and teddy actually physically resembling them, i s2g the way they talk has such steve and tony vibes it hurts.

like marvel likes to mash characters together that don’t make any sense and like some characters (janet) only have value in a relationship (which is bullshit) while ignoring dynamics that literally lend themselves to it naturally, so here we are. they’ll keep teasing it and we’ll keep eating it up, and they’ll keep giving it to us in side universes (1872, earth-3490 - this one especially like genderswapping isn’t gross, one, and two, like it doesn’t say a hell of a lot about how steve feels about tony and steve’s overall sexuality to begin with) with nothing but a run of less than ten issues or a blurb in some other title. it’s frustrating, tbh. marvel literally never learns, never grows, never changes, and we’re just here accepting it ig.

#anon #. ooc asks #// anyway if i started listing all the instances of there is no heterosexual explanation for this shit #// between steve and tony #// it would be a very very long list #// but marvel will never do it #// and it's a shame #// because it IS a compelling relationship #// yes you can read it as just friends if you want but guys #// guys #// tell me i'm wrong #// i'm not #// and i'm not gonna say i am

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mtgbracket · 4 years

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Tiebreaker - Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest vs Polukranos, Unchained

Hi folks! Yesterday, these two cards both got 177 votes in Batch 2.3, leading to a tie. I don’t vote in the polls so that I can be the tiebreaking vote when it’s needed. So here I am doing that.

I am going to be using the same format as I did for the ties in the original Magic Bracket - see this old post for an example. Essentially I will provide a written analysis on each card over five categories, and then finish with scores. If the scores also tie then my personal favourite gets the nod. The categories are:

- Quality of design, scored out of 10 - Power level, scored out of 5 (overpowered cards will score lower) - Flavour, scored out of 5 - Art, scored out of 5 (combined across multiple arts if there are any) - Place in Magic history, scored out of 5

Let’s get stuck in.

Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest

Design

Fittingly for a death priest, Mazirek cares about death - specifically, he’s one of the relatively few cards that care about sacrificing. While we’re more used to seeing this on black-red cards in recent years, Mazirek was printed in Commander 2015 and the sacrifice-matters element is perfectly at home in black. While it doesn’t feel green, the reward you get - +1/+1 counters on all your creatures - certainly does, and Mazirek has a solidly black-green feel as a result. And by both caring about death and growth/life, he also feels specifically Golgari - which matters as the Kraul are a Golgari insect group. Sacrifice-matters probably does play better in black-red (where red’s ability to sacrifice its own stuff lines up nicely), but it’s not massively out of place here.

Having flying (which makes sense for an Insect) but a measly 2/2 body for 5 also guides the player to imagining growing him into a massive threat through adding lots of sacrifice effects. The design is also kept light by not having Mazirek provide any inherent way of sacrificing things or making sacrifices happen - the player has to provide their own. This is pretty common for these kinds of designs, but is good because it means the rewards can be a bit juicier, as the player has to provide a sacrifice payoff, an enabler, and likely some fodder - although making your opponent sacrifice things also works!

One ding against the sacrifice trigger is that it does require players to handle a small bit of rules knowledge - specifically, identifying the “sacrifice” keyword action and understand which things are and aren’t sacrifices. And effects that make temporary tokens are annoyingly inconsistent about whether the tokens are exiled or sacrificed, which sets up a bit of a reading debt.

Power level

Fittingly for a card from a Commander precon, Mazirek is pretty potent. He can grow your team quite substantially with a few triggers, even if he doesn’t provide you an in-built way of getting them, and promises unbounded payoff. Combined with a sacrifice outlet and something with Persist can even make infinite combos, which is pretty compelling as a power option. Mazirek is technically legal in Eternal formats, but isn’t up to grade there - but that’s not a mark down on him as few cards are.

Mazirek ranks #278 on EDHREC, as the Commander of 424 decks, and as a card appears in 4% of decks on the platform. This indicates a potent and popular Commander card.

Flavour

Mazirek, as mentioned above, is the leader of the Kraul, the Golgari insect race. His card name certainly conjures up a lot of what’s going on with him - “Death Priest” is quite a title, and gets across both the death-focused aspect of the Golgari as well as the Kraul’s society - Mazirek was the leader of the Kraul race until his death in the War of the Spark storyline. His name is also fun to say - and feels quite insectile. It’s a shame that the “priest” title, which feels more like a Cleric, is not matched with his typeline, where he is a Shaman. There are plenty of green and even black-green Clerics, so this does feel like a minor ding.

Mazirek’s flavour text reinforces the “insect” thing nicely, with talks of clicks and buzz, and the very Metal “incarnation of decay”. Overall the picture of a rotten, death-feeding entity is well sold. Being empowered by death is a flavourful concept, but “sacrificing” specifically is hard to convey as a flavourful concept - it’s a bit too mechanical.

Art

Mathias Kollros’s piece revels in the black-green colour palette we’d expect from a Golgari legend, and shows the central figure suggestively in dark greens and yellow highlights, but with the details hidden by strong green-white backlighting. The posing emphasises the many additional limbs that Mazirek has over a humanoid figure, with his wings and extra legs, as well as his elevated position. Some drippy, slimy looking moss decorates his podium and the darker edges of the piece give us the sense that we’re in the Kraul’s tunnels. After adjusting to the main image we also see the eggs at the edges of the image, adding to the insect / creepy vibe for an overall very effective piece.

Note that the colour palette appears to have been significantly darkened from the original printing for the later Double Masters version for no clear reason. I think the original printing is the superior.

Place in Magic history

Other than a supporting role in the Ravnica / War of the Spark storyline, Mazirek doesn’t have much to write home about here - no particularly unique or interesting things about him.

Polukranos, Unchained

Design

From this year’s Theros: Beyond Death, we have the zombified version of Polukranos. Originally gaining infamy as Polukranos, World Eater, this hydra is now presented in a black-tinged version - our second black-green card. He starts out with square stats as a very undercosted-seeming 4-mana 6/6, before later promising to escape as a 6-mana 12/12. The “permanent damage” drawback here is something originally seen on Judgment’s Phantom creatures, which only ever lost one counter per instance of damage; the counters-per-damage version was premiered on M11′s Protean Hydra as a “heads” metaphor, and was also seen on Ugin’s Conjurant. Conjurant and Polukranos share an important improvement - they only apply the replacement effect while they actually have a +1/+1 counter, which stops them becoming invincible if you raise their toughness some other way.

As well as being a big reservoir of power and toughness, this newer version of Polukranos connects mechanically to the original by including a fight ability - and a very rare repeatable one at that. This opens up some interesting options whereby if Polukranos has shrunk too much, you can fight him off in order to have him die and then be able to escape and reset him with his final Escape ability. Polukranos has the highest card-cost for any Escape card, needing six other cards to come back - justified by his massive size upgrade when you do so.

The design overall hits some of the right notes for the established Polukranos power set - beefy and activated-ability-fighting - while adding some interesting play patterns with the Escape mechanic. It doesn’t do a great job of feeling green-black to me instead of just green however - monogreen has Escape cards and that’s all that black is really bringing to this package other than a generic multicolour power injection and the Zombie creature type. And the design is very busy, with a lot of text and moving parts that is a bit confusing to play.

Power level

While being a Limited powerhouse, Polukranos hasn’t managed to get anywhere in general constructed thanks to competing for resources with the far superior Uro, Titan of Nature’s Wrath, which is commonly played with black.

In Commander, EDHREC shows Polukranos, Unchained at rank #494 as a Commander of 170 decks, and appearing in 3% of decks. The combo with Vigor is particularly nice - you can choose to apply Vigor’s replacement effect instead of Polukranos’s own one and have him grow every time he fights instead of shrinking!

Flavour

The name is straightforward enough - and connects with the art - but not inspired. The lengthy rules text doesn’t even leave room for Escape reminder text, let alone flavour text. The character of Polukranos is of a dangerous monster that Elspeth had to defeat in the original Theros storyline as the champion of Heliod, but the new version is just “that same guy from before, only he escaped from the Underworld”.

Art

Chris Rahn is one of Magic’s most notable current artists, with a great ability to render detailed fantasy images with beautiful details. The purple-and-grayish hues of the underworld are used here to show the location, and nicely we see the upper purple head of Polukranos blending with the beautiful night sky.

And those purple heads are shown coming from the same root - I believe they are actually regrowing at the time of the art! There are a lot of nice visual indicators of this - a pinkish glow showing where the stump was, the purplish colour of the two new heads, and the fact that those are a little smaller than the other four. The new heads both have collars on so I imagine these are magical collars designed for a hydra - but the art also shows that the chains weren’t strong enough, as the name tells us. A close look shows a loose chain breaking a statue in the foreground - and the other foreground figures help sell the size of the monstrous creature in front of us. The overall mood is “Oh s***, the monster has got loose!”.

Place in Magic history

We have a minor storyline character here and the card has no particular resonance or important part to play, so not looking at a whole lot here.

Final verdict

Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest

Design - 7/10 Power level - 4/5 Flavour - 3/5 Art - 5/5 Place in Magic history - 2/5 TOTAL - 21/30

Polukranos, Unchained

Design - 6/10 Power level - 3/5 Flavour - 2/5 Art - 4/5 Place in Magic history - 2/5 TOTAL - 17/30

Good luck to Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest in Round 3!

#mtg #magic the gathering #mtgbracket #tournamentofchampions #magic bracket tiebreaker

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sherlollydramoine · 4 years

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Little Fire

Prompt 1: “No, come back!”

Fandom: Joe Mazzello/BoRhap/Bohemian Rhapsody Movie Cast

Pairing: Joe Mazzello X Reader

Word Count: 738

Warnings: Small fire, sprained ankle, a few bad words but I think this is mostly PG/PG-13

Joe was well aware of your love of all things Halloween. So much so that every Christmas you decorated your whole place in a ‘Nightmare Before Christmas’ theme because, why not combine the two best holidays, right?!

Every year that you two had been together you’d held a Halloween haunted house contest, with your friends and family anonymously voting. Rami was chosen as this year’s lockbox keeper and official ballot counter. The rules for the contest were quite simple and agreed upon several years ago now, and each of you kept your chosen themes top secret. One of the rules was that there was a very strict budget put in place, each participant was allowed to spend no more than two-hundred dollars, and before voting must produce all receipts as proof. The winner each year was crowned with a makeshift bat and spider crown that you’d handcrafted several years ago, and the winner won bragging rights for the entire year.

You were currently the reigning champion having just barely won last year with Joe almost being disqualified on a technicality. For Halloween 2020 you’d finished decorating by the third day in October with Joe finishing four days later. Neither one of you had seen what the other had created and you were both shaking with excitement. Joe wasn’t very crafty and had a hard time limiting his imagination to the two-hundred-dollar budget but you’d always been able to save a ton of money by using items you already owned or had in your craft stash.

When the day finally arrived for voting, you were anxious. Both of you were going to see the other’s Spooky fantasy land for the first time along with friends and family. Your place was up first on the “haunted tour” that you did annually every Halloween.

Once everyone had gone inside, you heard a few various screams along with the usual laughter. It wasn’t until someone got towards the end that you heard a loud crash and began to smell something burning. The only thing that could have potentially been dangerous was one of the old lightbulbs you’d used for some spooky backlighting for one area of the haunted house.

Everyone came running out of the room with Joe limping along with Rami while you ran in with the fire extinguisher. You’d ripped the cord for the old lamp out of the wall and sprayed the whole area down with the extinguisher, coating everything in a foamy white. One of your friends had called the fire department that showed up obviously ready to battle a raging fire, unaware that you’d already put it out.

Joe sheepishly confesses that he’d tried to reach out to get a closer inspection on one of your handcrafted decorations unaware of the cord to the ancient lamp which he promptly tripped on, pulling down the mesh backdrop, shattering the lamp and sparking the fire.

You couldn’t help the anger bubbling inside of you as you struggle to hold back the tears.

“JOSEPH FRANCIS MAZZELLO!! I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE YOU! YOU..YOU…YOU INSUFFERABLE BASTARD COULDN’T HANDLE THE THOUGHT OF ME BEATING YOUR ASS IN THIS COMPETITION SO YOU SABOTAGED ME BY NEARLY BURNING DOWN MY HOUSE?!?!?”

Joe couldn’t help but to look sheepish as his ankle was being examined by a paramedic. He couldn’t really move so easily as you stomped off back towards your friends as they tried to comfort you.

“NO, COME BACK!” he shouts attempting to get your attention, which caused a few raised brows and a few smirks. Everyone knew Joe was in the doghouse this time.

He shoos the paramedics aware and hobbles over to where you were standing.

“Baby, I swear, I didn’t mean to do anything. I was really just trying to get a closer look at that exquisite bat decoration that you’d made. I didn’t realize there was a cord until I was flailing about and falling. The fire was an accident, I promise. I wasn’t trying to sabotage anything.”

“Hmmmph” you pout, as you turn away.

“Baby, I swear! I swear!”

That’s when you break and let out an insane laugh in his direction. Well aware of the chaotic nature of your boyfriend and best friend; it wasn’t his fault that stuff happens it’s just that trouble follows him wherever he goes.

“Joseph, this will be the second year in a row that I beat your ass in this competition by default!”

@theblossomknows

@stewielover95

@spacedustmazzello

@diasimar

@ramimedley

@mrhoemazzello

@sweetsam89

#Fictober20 #Joe Mazzello #Joe Mazzello X Reader #Joe Mazzello blurb #Joe Mazzello headcanon #Joe Mazzello halloween story #halloween #haunted house theme

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lyrasilverspring · 4 years

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Task One- Part Two: Lyra’s Interview

Lyra had explored all the corners of the Justice Building open to her, which admittedly were few, and she’d found her favourite place. It was at the end of a corridor, by the window that stretched almost ceiling to floor, framed by two potted plants. It looked out over the district far enough that she could see the forest, and was the closest she could come to being outside.

“Miss Silverspring, we have a few questions for you,” a voice called from behind her.

She turned to see the extravagant Capitol person calmly walking down the corridor towards her. His colours were a rising sea of burgundy against a deep blue, the combination she’d come to associate with the Capitol. His clothes were also bright and jagged, clashing horribly with the swirl of his aura. By comparison, Lyra’s white dress seemed stark and empty, as if he’d absorbed all the colour from her.

“We can do it here, if you’d like,” he offered, to which Lyra simply nodded, turning so she no longer had her back to him, but still only faced him side on.

She waited whilst the cameras were set up, ignoring the quick whispered conversation about whether the backlighting from the window made her ghostly or shadowed or ethereal. Lyra had learned that the conversations others had about you were more for your sake than theirs, and so she took no interest in them.

“What constitutes the perfect date for you?” he began.

Lyra thought for a second, “It is difficult to narrow it down to just one- many dates are very important to me. The first things that come to mind are solstice and equinox, of which there are two each. They mark the natural calendar, the movement of seasons and stepping into the next stage of the life cycle, so their role is key. That said, there is something in the night of a blue moon,” she felt her gaze drift as she sank back into memories of the dances they would perform, “The sky is alive with all the hope of a second chance, and the earth seems richer beneath your feet. There isn’t really anything quite like it,” she refocused on the interviewer, “So perhaps my favourite date is that of a blue moon.”

The interviewer was careful to show little response, but Lyra still heard the snickers of the camera crew. She did not care, there was no other answer for her to give.

“What is your greatest accomplishment?”

This one was easy, “The night I finished my rites and took up my position.”

She would not tell them the details of her position- they were sacred and meant something. They were not to be thrown away in a soundbite for people who did not know what it meant to kneel before a mother tree and promise her your service. But she answered truthfully because that night had meant everything to Lyra. The moment she had been named Woodmaiden, the cycle’s continuation had been promised, the forest protected. And now, the Capitol had come to disrupt the flow in the name of violence, death and entertainment. They did not deserve to hear her title.

“Okay,” he continued awkwardly when it became clear that she was not going to elaborate, “What’s something you could teach me about?”

Lyra’s hand drifted up to the leaves above her head, almost unbidden, “How to respect the land we live in. How to exist in ways that are not harmful. How to find peace in the world around you. They are things many have forgotten.”

“That sounds nice,” the interviewer smiled, pretending not to hear the laughter from the camera crew behind him, “And what does love look like to you?”

This brought Lyra pause. It was not something she’d begun to think about yet. The time would come when she would look for someone, sure, but her focus had been on her responsibilities up to this point.

“I think… love to me is a deep connection. There are copses you can go to that look like they are covered in trees, but beneath the ground you would learn that they are in fact one organism, joined at the root. Love is like that, I think? To be two entities, able to stand apart and strong, but always bound by something deeper, something that does not need to be seen by others for them to know that it is there.”

“Surprise, surprise, she thinks love is a tree,” laughed a woman somewhat down the hall.

The interviewer hissed out a threat before turning back to face Lyra once more, “I’m sorry about them my dear, just one last question and then we’ll leave you to your day. What would you like to be remembered about you?”

Lyra sighed and answered, “The work my family do is not for celebration or recognition. It is simply right. We do not learn the names of those who come before us because we are not separate. Once we pass, our names are not spoken again- we return to the earth and become something more than an individual before the forest. We become part of the forest. In life, I would like to be known as someone who walked the path. In death, I wish only for a sense of peace and rest.”

She turned back to face the window as they packed up and went to find their next candidate. The questions had stirred up her longing to be back in the forest, and resting against the glass seemed the closest she could get.

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momo-de-avis · 5 years

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Wordtober Day 14: Overgrown

I was a girl when I first developed my passion for painting.

Papa would take me to the Salon and I would marvel at the stacks of canvases hung on every wall, as high as the ceilings went. Though I tended to pay no mind to the classical portraits of ladies or the massive sculptures from the Académie, I became enthralled by the revolutionaries. The naturalists, that is. The men who left the city by train, taking their pochades to paint the natural elements, who captured the forests of Barbizon for posteriority with a curious, famished eye.

I wondered deeply about these matters until it was all I thought about. How does one develop the ability to capture something within just a small frame of time, only to compose it in timelessness and thus devote it to posteriority? And what frame of time could that be? In a passing moment, as we gaze upon nature, what instant, between every flicker of existence, will we decide to depict? Is it possible to freeze one single second and represent it in several instances of daylight, to pour onto a canvas all the beauty we see unravel before a simple leaf, a dense forest, the still waters of a lake, or even the skies?

The artist opens his pochade, sets up his easel, and looks up at the sky. And there, he sees it: one cloud hovering above hues of blue, dancing slowly to the wind’s cadence, cast in heavenly shadows of grey and white and yellow. Then, he picks up his brush and begins to paint, but time has already moved on—and he rushes to capture all those passing moments and lock them into the surface of the canvas.

That is probably why I was always more inclined to paintings of storms. There’s something daunting to de la Peña’s canvases, in the way he paints one vivid golden arm reaching out between the thick clouds to set the brown rocks alight, like hope cast onto something hopeless to come. And probably why I enjoy the desolation of Daubigny’s depiction of Les Sables-d’Olonne. In either of them, there’s something massive, something imposing. It seems that, instead of painting the present, with bits of the past scattered behind, they focused on the future instead. A storm to come; a confusion of grey and yellow hues that announce the incoming night.

There’s one particular painter that has fascinated me for long, though I’ve only ever seen reproductions on bulletins owned by collectors, and on one occasion, one poor copy by some petulant little student of some small studio. It’s called A Monk by the Sea and it’s by this widely ignored little painter from Prussia called Caspar David Friedrich. It’s a massive canvas, from what I’m told, containing just three things: the sea, the shore, and a monk.

If you look at the skies, you’ll see that, much like Daubigny’s, there’s a combination of darker hues with lighter ones, and though the brushwork is far more formal and even academic, you can outline the very rim of the clouds that hover above the horizon. But they contrast greatly with the darkness below, and it gives us the sense of a looming future, a daunting and terrifying one. A storm is coming. And on this bland, sandy-like shoreline, a solitary monk stands alone. He wears simple vestments, long and crisp, and he stares. He just stares at this storm that is slowly forming in the far horizon, at these gigantic clouds that announce nature’s violence, and he is… unafraid.

Burke called it the Sublime. That which is so daunting, so terrifying, it is, at the same time, beautiful. Something able to make us quiver on our legs in trepidation, yet we cannot but reach forth and touch it.

I always did have an inclination for the more mystical of paintings. Friedrich’s in particular touched me differently. It was, obviously, that element of the sublime, but something else. Like in Constable’s landscapes, and even some of Corot’s, it’s nature’s double meaning behind every piece of beauty we admire. Have a look at Couple Contemplating the Moon and see for yourself how those beautiful branches twist like tendrils in the backlight of the incoming night, and wonder: what will happen to this couple once night settles and they are left alone with this disfigured tree, in the complete darkness? Or why is the spectral image of the Abbey in the Oakwood so enticing we almost want to wait for night to settle and the soul of nature to dance in ghostly shapes before us—even when we’re terrified of it?

Yes, I have always loved the art of painting. But there was one problem to my passion, which is my gender.

Of course, I was not exactly barred from painting, I was just left with little options, and watercolours bored me to death. Even less the motifs my family insisted I painted, those proper of a lady: boring landscapes of sunshine over green grass and still lakes and swans and other birds of sorts—I despised it all.

I knew I had a talent, of course. And I knew how to use it, I just needed the right outlet. Watercolours certainly weren’t it—I wanted proper oils, and I wanted to wear long gowns and cover myself in paint, forgetting the entirety of this world who said painting outside, like the men who took the train to Barbizon, was improper.

In truth, my father minded little of it, and it was my sister who raised much a scandal, though it seems obvious today she was also quite envious. For she married none other than an artist.

She always was quite the uptight lady, however. Proper in every aspect, yes, but incredibly dull. Composed in her folded skirts and wearing hats in the summer, carefully adjusting her little laced glove as she opened her umbrella while her husband paddled a boat on the lake. She always did think of me as far too scandalous, but I minded little so long as I could paint—and it just so happened she married a painter.

Gustave wasn’t so much a master as he was an excuse. He proposed to tutor me and for a while Adolphine was eased by the thought that it was her husband the one to guide me, perhaps considering he’d steer me towards those boring watercolours she adored in order to tame my character. But I was better than Gustave. Though he dominated the technique, of course—for a classicist. For him, it mattered only that I copied the masters and understand a composition, study drawing, that mark of intellectualism of a true artist, and the colour comes after, for it is line that is truly scientific—I cared not for any of that! Colour is the true science, I told him! And screw what Adolphine deemed proper, have a look—I screamed at him—at Delacroix or Gros instead, and dare tell me colour is not scientific! How dare he, when even Vasari praised the science of colour for Titian and the Venetians!

Eventually, he gave in, as my condition—as he put it—appeared to his eyes as none but a whim, and perhaps the best thing to do was to simply answer to my fits of rage before they could develop into something… far worse.

I began to suspect at this point that my family saw me as ill and mad, and it would be no time until they threw me into a hospice. It was common of me to hear them muttering behind closed doors, whimpering like dogs, particularly Adolphone, who wailed: oh, my sister will be the disgrace of us, what shall I do?, she will not leave those paintings alone, and what things does she paint?, she never even shows me!

No, Adolphine, I never showed them to you.

My sister couldn’t possibly bear with my creations, considering my inclination for the grotesque. I remember staring at a Fuseli once and thinking how beautiful his nightmares were. The little goblin-like creature that sat on that fair lady, slouched over her bed in slumber was, to my eyes, not her tormentor but her guardian. And I pondered about it—imagine having a guardian, a protector who watched over your dreams as you slept. So I began to experiment with these pictures that suddenly appeared in my mind at night—just twisting shapes of humanoid presences that always seemed non-threatening to me, and they danced to my will and bowed before me. Once awoken, I would run up to the attic without eating, open my pochade and begin to paint; I would lock the door as to not be interrupted and be cast into this strange world of oils and shapes that composed themselves before my eyes, and time would pass completely indistinct.

Every time I painted, time ceased to exist—or maybe I did. But whatever the truth, I existed outside of this world, and whatever there was to the streets outside my window, it was entirely gone. It was far more than a deep trance—I could feel an intense compulsion I had to answer, or else I’d grow mad! I had to rush up the stairs and begin to paint immediately—and I did. The moment my fingers touched the hardened wood of my brush or the easel, I would cease to exist and transform into something else.

On my canvases, shapes gained form under the dark hues of my nightly landscapes. Explosions of light in the skies, in gold and dull yellow, made way to something lingering in the corner, something large and imposing with wide jutting horns and claws raising above a prey below; and sometimes, the setting sun on a pasture cast an arm of pink and purple onto the skies, enough to illuminate an anthropomorphic silhouette that danced before a farmer, who prayed the Angelus alone; and then, the same creature could be seen upon the corner of a street of Paris as a flaneur tipped his hat back and looked up, right into its big, bulbous, bright white eyes.

There was another thing present in all: the creature, as it appeared, did not hide; it stood right in front of its prey and it gazed upon them in a moment of not doubt, but profound contemplation. And below the enormous hunter, the prey would look up in peace and silence, accepting of their fate, with not a hint of fright nor a bellow of horror. Much like the monk staring longingly at the incoming storm, alone, like a castaway, on an unknown sandy shore—contemplative, silent, peaceful.

When Gustave first saw my canvases he was shaken. I saw sweat pouring from his forehead and laughed in amusement as he moved frantically about the studio, and I could see how much he longed to grab hold of my paintings and destroy them but would not dare to do so. More: how much they frightened him. How he would draw near gently but there was a line he never crossed, invisibly traced on the floors, as he’d freeze on his quivering legs, eyes locked on the monster’s eyes, my monster, cold sweat pouring still as he breathed deep and heavy, and stuttered a compliment that never really came.

I knew he thought my paintings to be outstanding in technique and composition, it was the creature that terrified him, but that only made me feel more confident in my work. That was my creature, my creation, and it stared back at me as if I was its very own God.

It was around this time that I first heard about the disappearances, though I minded them not. Men and women snatched off the streets, to never be seen again, and mere rags from their clothes left behind.

Eventually, Gustave learned to be more at ease with my paintings, though he still would not dare to cross that invisible line he had placed between him and the paintings. Except one time.

He drew near very slowly, quivering at every step, and gazed deeply upon a small figure in the corner, a small man illuminated by a single strand of light coming from a street lamp as he looked up at the creature that stood tall on the left side of the painting, firm and steady on its legs. Something about him lured Gustave, and I watched curiously as his eyes drew away from the ambience of the painting to focus on that one lonely man.

And then, he said: “This man looks eerily similar to Hubert Leblanc.”

I learned later that Huber Leblanc was a frequenter of the Salon and an avid art collector known for being the major buyer of Gustave’s paintings, who seemed entirely disinterested in the revolutionaries of the Beux Arts and instead preferred the boring artworks of a much classical tone. He had even been gifted one of Adolphine’s terrible watercolours, which he treasured delightedly. But at the time, I thought nothing of it. I had never met this Monsieur Leblanc, had no interest in meeting him, merely heard my brother-in-law’s mention of his name and my sister’s adulation of his character, and sincerely cared not for him.

So I kept on painting. I locked the door of my studio and let the word fall into its own insignificance as I painted more and more of my beloved creature in all sorts of different settings: sneaking between the columns of the Palais de Tokyo as a woman gazed up in plenitude to accept her fate; lurking at the edges of the Île de la Cité, obfuscating the Notre Dame de Paris entirely, as an onlooker accepted his fate, stood frozen on the Pont de Saint Michel; standing on the roof of Les Halles, gazing down at an unsuspecting woman who raised her head with a basket of fish on her hand, her eyes meeting the creature’s, waiting placidly; a passer-by exiting the Théatre de L’Odéon, stood frozen in the middle of the Rue Monsieur-Le-Prince, as the monster awaited his arrival at the end of the intersection, an umbrella fallen from the victim’s hand as he watched the creature’s eyes and awaited his ending.

I was ravenous in my dedication. I ate little, for time passed and I saw nor heard a thing, and outside my door, the servants would leave trays of food that would go foul. My sister would knock on my door insistently, but I heard nothing. Whenever we did sit at the table for supper, she’d complain about my behaviour and leave a hint that perhaps I needed some assistance, but her implications angered me and I was driven into a fit of rage.

One afternoon, I heard my sister gasp and turned to find her pale and frozen on her chair as she folded a newspaper and threw it aside with a gesture of disgust. She placed the back of her hand carefully against her sweating forehead and closed her eyes as if she were about to faint, wailing between her heavy pants, as if stricken with a case of consumption—horrible, horrible!, she chanted; such a horrible thing this is, God have mercy on us all!

I picked up the newspaper and read the headline. Seven people had gone missing from the streets of Paris, and at last they had uncovered the body of two: torn to shreds, nothing but gnawed bone, their flesh gone, limbs scattered across the construction site of the Ópera Garnier, abandoned into a rush—a sight so gruesome it had caused several people to faint and be rushed to the doctor.

What struck me as odd, however, was the locations upon which these people had disappeared. A woman vanished from the Palais de Tokyo. A man snatched from the Pont de Saint Michel. An angler caught and taken from Les Halles, leaving behind a basket of fish. An umbrella left behind by an unsuspecting man gone from the Rue Monsieur-le-Prince.

I rolled up the paper and rushed up the stairs. When I opened the door, I saw them: those same locations, painted in hues of black and blue, and sometimes gold, as they told a tale of a person about to go missing, devoured by an enormous black creature that stalked them patiently through several Parisian landmarks. The umbrella left behind was there, fallen on the cobblestones to his side, as was the basket of fish on the angler’s hand.

So I wondered: could my creation be so spectacular it existed beyond my canvases?

It was at this moment that my door swung open and Gustave came running inside, cast into pallor and dabbing his trickling sweat with a white handkerchief he then placed inside his pocket. He ignored me, went straight to my paintings, and gazed upon the figures that lay there, waiting to be devoured alive by this beast, with peace and serenity—and again focused on the tiny little man who stood—I finally recognized—in the middle of the Place Dauphine.

He turned to me with eyes bulging in terror. “That is Hubert Leblanc,” he said. “He disappeared from the Place Dauphine two weeks ago.”

I laughed, unsure what other reaction to have, as he stood in frozen dread before me, unable still to face the monster in my paintings, and said nothing. He turned around then and grabbed the canvas off the easel, with—I knew—the intention to have it destroyed. It burned my insides in horror just to think of it, so I lurched myself at him, and we got into a tussle. Gustave was strong, gripping the canvas until his fingers made dents on my painting, and I shoved him against a wall as I screamed to let go of the painting, but he shouted back in madness: “You did this! You are responsible for this! You are cursed, and have cursed us all!”

Adolphine appeared at my door, screeching in horror at the sight, and began to scream for the servants to come to her aid as Gustave and I tussled still. Finally, he dropped the canvas and I shoved him out of my door, past Adolphine who nearly tumbled onto the ground, and as he tripped on his feet, he fell back onto the stairs and down he went.

I watched from the top of the stairs as he groaned in pain down below, gazing at me in horror. The painting was salvaged, carefully placed against a wall, and Adolphine covered her mouth with a hand, again nearly about to faint. The newspaper was fallen on the floor of my studio, and she picked it up slowly to read its cover. Then, she glanced at the paintings on my studio, the same ones she had never seen, and her pallor turned her into a living ghost. Out of strength, she sought a chair to sit on and fell to it with a tumble of weakness, barely breathing, but her eyes glared only at me.

The servants assisted Gustave, and the doctor was called in as I screamed one last warning: stay away from my paintings. Adolphine, once recovered from her affliction, cursed me and expelled me from her house, saying I had but three days to pack my belongings and leave, lest I wanted to be put into a hospice for the rest of my days.

And throughout it all, I felt… calm.

At night, with Gustave laid in bed, bandaged and tended to by the doctor and his wife, and Adolphine weeping in her privacy words that fluttered back to my ear—oh, she always was such an insolent one, I do not know what to do with her, I don’t want to kick her out, but what else am I to do, Gustave?—I locked myself in my studio and watched my paintings. It was only then that I took notice of the transformation that had occurred in my style: the creature grew in size, becoming bigger and bigger with every new one, sometimes so big I had to relegate it to the background—and as a consequence, so did my canvases, which had grown several meters wide.

Then, an idea occurred to me.

With but one lantern shedding light on the space around me, I grabbed my brushes and began to paint. Though I was in a state of trance still, I was in enough control of my being that, this time, I knew what I would paint. It was my own studio, in a small canvas, and the victim was, this time, me. I drew the shape of the creature in black blotches countered by the flimsy yellow light of my lantern, put the brush down and waited.

I was blinking my eyes wearily, about to fall asleep, when I heard the faintest growl emerging from the corner. As I stood, I saw it then: two big white eyes staring back at me, from a big gaping mouth, fangs began to glisten in yellow and white. I stood, yet I did not tremble. I looked at the creature, at my creation, and smiled as my heart thumped strongly against my chest.

Truly, I was the most exquisite painter alive in Paris, for how many could say their creations had come to life?

The monster stood silently before me, and I felt its heavy, thick breath slapping my face, though it smelled of nothing but emptiness. Its long arms swayed freely, the sharp claws touching the floors enough that scratches were left on the wooden boards, and its legs bent at the knees to fit his jutting horns inside the tight space of my attic, though they too scratched the ceilings. I suppose to any an onlooker it would have appeared as terrifying, yet to me it was… a beautiful sight. For it was my creation, and I was its God.

For a moment, we just stared at one another, and time passed by us unnoticed.

Then, the monster tilted its head slightly and in a guttural yet smoothing low tone of his voice, it spoke: “You are my mistress.”

“What are you?” I asked.

It took a long time to answer. “I am what exists in the corner of the eye. I am the drips of paint left at the bottom of the easel. I am what has been in your mind for very long, set free by a movement of your brush. But I must be fed.”

“You must be fed?”

I felt trapped inside my own canvas, locked in my own creation, my own world, and swore then I’d never leave it.

“I must be fed, mistress,” it muttered. “The day I die shall be the day your painting ends. You might lose your hands, you might lose your fingers, you might go insane enough that painting will bring nought but horrid pain to you. But if I die, you cease to become an artist. Thus, I must be fed to exist.”

I did ponder on it for a moment, on whether or not it was worth to be labelled the most talented painter of Paris if it meant innocents gone and mauled by some mysterious creature. But I knew I would never achieve that status, for I was still a woman who refused mere watercolours, and not even an aristocrat, but someone living in her sister’s attic, who had been lucky enough to marry a successful mediocre painter. No matter how talented I truly was, the city would forever cast its eyes on the men, like Rousseau and Daubigny and Cabanel. But me, I would forever be master Gustave’s apprentice, with no one sparing a second to think of my talents as mine alone, but certainly passed on to me by some man, like charity.

It was either that or becoming some skinflint painter’s muse, bound to be labelled a whore only to die of syphilis.

No, Paris would never chant for my name as they chanted for the other artists. So I wondered then if it was worth quitting my passion, the one thing that made me feel so alive, while this unsuspecting city slept in terror before these mysterious disappearances, unknown that they happened at the hands of the most masterful artist Paris had ever seen—and a woman at that.

“All you have to do is paint,” the monster said. “Paint my food, and eat I shall.”

“How?” I asked.

“How have you been doing it so far?” It drew near, and there I felt the pulsating definition of the Sublime: how beautiful it was, yet what dread it caused me, something intricate to itself that made my body shudder in cold fear—yet all I wanted was to draw nearer and nearer, to feel its shape closer to mine.

It was an instinct, I learned at last. My talent surpassed that of the easel and the brush, it was something deep into the occult. I had a link with this beautiful creation that was my pet, and in my ravenous hours of work, I could see the present and the future all the same and paint it into a storm to come that would end the lives of those who became nothing but food for my beautiful creation.

I thought about Gustave, and I thought about my sister wanting to put me in a hospice.

So without saying a word, I picked up my brush and began to paint. The monster stood quietly in a corner, watching me in my creation, but in no time I forgot about its presence. Instead, with a smile of delight upon what I considered already to be my magnum opus, I painted my largest canvas yet, locked inside my attic, where the shape of a bed appeared, and by a trembling candlelight, a sleeping man lay, bandaged and bruised from a fall down the stairs, his wife weeping silently by his side, her hand holding his.

It was morning when I was finished. The monster hadn’t moved. He looked at the canvas and its slit of a mouth widened into a smile.

“Eat I shall,” it said.

I did not see it leave. I was so tired I did not retire to my chambers, buy lay on the floor to rest.

I suppose I was already asleep when it happened, for I did not hear the screams.

___

Past Challenges:

Wordtober Day 1: Ring

Wordtober Day 2: Mindless

Wordtober Day 3: Bait

Wordtober Day 4: Freeze

Wordtober Day 5: Build I

Wordtober Day 6: Build II

Wordtober Day 7: Enchanted (Encantada)

Wordtober Day 8: Frail

Wordtober Day 9: Swing

Wordtober Day 10: Pattern

Wordtober Day 11: Snow

(Skipped Day 12)

Wodrtober Day 13: Ash

#wordtober #writing #my writing #creative writing #fiction #my wordtober

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kilojulietsierra · 6 years

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All My Friends Are Heathens - Chapter One - Bright FF

A combination of my stories Dark Side of Me and Blood & Bylines because I apparently couldn't let either of them go lol Just for fun, not sure how in depth it will go. Mostly focuses on clan life/family dynamics/orc culture an some smutty-ish-ness maybe at some point.

~~~~~~~

Dorghu woke up early, in the dark and alone. He waited a second for his vision to clear and looked around the room, “Devochka?” When he got no response he hefted himself out of bed and grabbed a clean pair of jeans that had been hung over a closet door to dry. The whole upstairs was dark, as was downstairs, but the kitchen smelled like fresh coffee.

Now he knew where he’d find her, so he dug his cigarettes out of his jacket on the table and headed towards the back door. He saw the blue light, illuminating the deck and Masha nestled into one of the lawn chairs that looked over the back yard.

She jumped as he grabbed the handle and slid open the glass door. “Fuck. D, scared the shit out of me.” Masha looked over her shoulder at him as he slid the door closed. “What are you doing up?” Her voice was shocked but still an early morning whisper.

He walked her way and lowered himself into the chair next to her, lighting a cigarette as he went. “What are you doing up?” He glanced towards the barely there glow to the east and then back to his girlfriend.

With a sigh she relaxed back into the chair and looked back to the tablet in her lap. “Couldn’t sleep. Decided I would look over the numbers from last night.”

Dorghu chuckled, smoke billowing from his nose and mouth, “You’re the only person I know that would get up early, on a Sunday morning, to do math.” He took another drag of his cigarette and ignored her good natured glare.

“Make fun of me all you want, but you’ll like this math.” Her face lit up and her smile took that dangerous turn he enjoyed so much.

“Hmm, that good huh?” With a sigh he slouched back further into his chair and let his head rest back, his legs stretch out and his eyes slip closed.

“Well, it was opening night so probably won’t be this way every night but, yeah. It’s good.”

She went back to tapping and swiping and Droghu smoked peacefully for awhile. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

Masha didn’t answer right away. “Too much on my mind I guess. Between the club opening, and everything I need to do today.”

Dorghu hummed but waited for her to continue.

Masha stared blankly at her tablet for several minutes before she did elaborate, “I invited [Your Name] over today. To go with me when I run my errands.” When he still kept silent she added, “You said she wanted to get to know us… or, well… you, orcs, what it was like. She’s seen some but, I thought it would be good for her to see… all of it you know?” Before he could respond she added something else. “She didn’t seem so bad when I talked to her last night.”

Finally he looked at her, his head rolled to the side. She sat with her bare legs tucked up underneath her, her hair a wild mess leftover from their activities the night before and she had put on a flannel shirt he had worn for a few hours yesterday.The screens backlight did strange things to her pale complexion and illuminated her crystal blue eyes to the point they looked like the glow came from within them instead of the device. “Fucking beautiful.” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it was the truth and the look on her face as she combed her hair back with her fingers and turned away from him was worth it.

He sat up enough to reach across the small table between them and pluck the tablet from her grip. “Put this shit away.” he set it on the table and grabbed her by the sleeve of his shirt. It took a few stern tugs but finally she came willingly, standing up and shuffling her bare feet across the wood deck to settle into his lap. Her legs barely fit on either side of his as she straddled him but she quickly found a comfortable position and let her slight weigh sink into him. Automatically his hands circled her waist, his thumbs rubbing over the softness of the flannel now covering her upper thighs as well. “She’s intimidated by you, she thinks you don’t like her.”

She snorted, “Never said that.”

Dorghu chuckled and squeezed at her hips, “You are right though, it will be good for her to go with you today. Good for both of you I think.” He moved his hands to her back and began long, slow passes up and down, swallowing a growl when she melted into him and rested her forehead against his. His hands kept it up for quite some time, over her back, thighs, her neck and shoulders, back and forth down her slim arms that hung crossed behind his neck.

When he felt her lips against his brow he took a deep and steady, relaxed breath. He chuckled when she did it again and made a particularly firm pass up her spine in response.

“What are you laughing at?” Her voice was hushed and breathy. It sent a shiver down his spine.

“Nothing.” Dorghu slid the fingers of one hand up the back of her neck and into her mess of hair to massage her scalp.

Masha let out a throaty humm, “Don’t lie to me.” Her breath was shaky.

He chuckled again. “You might not want to hear what I was thinking.”

“Try me.”

Dorghu slid his hands back down, over her ribs and hips to the bare skin of her thighs. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again.” He drug his thumbs over the muscles under his hand. “Never thought I’d feel this way about anyone after... let alone a human.” He chuckled again and leaned his forehead into hers with more force. Even cracked a smile as she returned the pressure, knowing exactly what it meant as she wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck.

He continued to smile as she kissed over his brow, as her nails scratched lightly over the back of his neck, but when her lips continued over his temple his body tensed and when she took the point of his good ear into her mouth it sent a shock straight through him. So much so that, without conscious thought, his hands clamped down on her waist drug her center over the slight bulge in the crotch of his jeans. When she moaned he felt it in his ear and in his spine and repeated the motion again, grinding her over his lap. “Fuck, I need you.” He groaned as Masha switched between sucking and licking at his ear, “Fuck...” He rocked her hips over him again and again, taking her little gasps as encouragement, “You know I had plans of how my morning would go”

Her breath came out hot but cooled the damp edge of his ear, “Oh yeah?” She moved from his ear to the side of the neck, sucking and biting, rolling the thick skin between between her teeth before sucking it into her mouth.

“Mhmm. I was going to wake up early and pull you back against my chest, immediately bury myself balls deep into this beautiful pussy, then stay there all fucking morning.” To drive his point home he grabbed her wrists to hold behind her back as he ground his now very obvious, very hard and very large erection up against her.

He repeated the action three more times until he released her hands, only to have them claw at his bare chest and shoulders as she retaliated with long, slow rolls of her hips. “You should have thought about that before you got so rough last night.” She grabbed one of his hands and slid it under the hem of the way to large shirt and between her legs.

His face fell as he brushed the rough pads of his fingers over her still raw and swollen lower lips. “Fuck baby.” Dorghu traced over them gently, “It’s all that fucking dresses fault. Put some nasty thoughts in my mind, watching you strut around all night.” Even the memory was getting him all worked up. “I’m sorry.”

Her smiled grew dark and dirty, “Don’t be.” She leaned down to brush her lips over his and lick the length of one tusk,.”Why do you think I picked that one to wear?”

This time he didn’t bother suppressing his growl as he dug a hand back into her hair and slammed her mouth back down against his. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.” He swallowed one of her moans and pulled her body more flush against his. She hissed a little and shot her hands up to grab his face and cover the tops of his tusks. At one point he pulled back for air only for her to hook a finger around one of them and drag his face back up to hers. Dorghu let out a deep, dark chuckle, almost as dirty as the smile on her face. “Or I can make it up to you now.” The words were mumbled against her lips but he got his message across by slipping his tongue into her mouth and showing her exactly what he meant.

Masha chuckled through her nose and nipped at the tip of his tongue as he withdrew it. She sat up straight, hands coming to rest on this bare chest which rose and fell with heavy, aroused breaths. “We’re both awake early we should be taking advantage and be getting ready for the shit show that will be arriving in a couple hours.’

Dorghu was focused more on undoing the few remaining buttons of the shirt she wore. Once he had them open he hoisted her up so she was sitting on her knees over his lap. “Sounds like a good idea.” Then he grabbed a handful of asscheek with one hand, her right breast with the other and sucked a hard nipple into his mouth with a moan of delight.

“Not even close to what I meant.” Masha laughed but cradled his head closer to her chest for a moment before she pushed him back. Before he could protest she removed herself from the chair and his reach.

“You’re an evil woman.” It took all his focus to keep from lunging after her as she returned to her own chair. He waited for his muscles to relax and his blood to cool down before he hoisted himself to his feet and grabbed her cold coffee on his way back inside.

It seemed the sun had rose on fast forward when he returned a few minutes later with a fresh cup of coffee. He set the coffee cup on the small table between the chairs before he grabbed her up and settled into the chair with her, her shirt rebuttoned, her back to his chest and her head leaned back against his shoulder.

They sat in silence, him smoking another cigarette and her sipping her coffee. Dorghu traced senseless patterns on the side of her bare knee with his free hand until the sun was two fingers past the horizon and Mikey slid the back door open.

“Good Morning.” Mikey stayed half in and half out, leaned back against the door frame.

“Morning Son, You’re up early. “ Dorghu flicked an ash into the tray as Masha sat up a little straighter in his lap.

Mikey looked to the floor and then back, “Yeah umm, Kai was wondering if she could come over early today and help out with everything.”

Masha examined him over the rim of her coffee cup, “She doesn’t have to do that, she can come just hang out if she wants. I’ll be gone for a few hours but she’s welcome to come over.”

“Oh no, she wants to help. Breakfast, the kids, lunch, all of it. She likes it.” The smile on his face looked almost painful it stretched his cheeks so wide.

“What do her parents think of her spending all day over here.”

Masha added, “With a bunch of gang bangers.”

Dorghu jabbed her in the ribs but didn’t argue the point. It was true.

His son’s smile grew more than Dorghu thought possible, “She asked yesterday, they said it’s fine as long as my parents are here too. Plus, her Dad made a big deal about how Kai says she always feels safe with me, especially over here, even with the guys around. So, he doesn’t worry as much. Like I said she likes it, coming over here and feeling like a part of the clan.”

Again Masha chuckled into her cup before she could answer with a straight face, “Well it’s okay with me but it’s up to your father. It’s his house

Dorghu looked sideways at her, “Kai is welcome in our house any time. Especially Sundays.”

“Awesome!” Mikey yelled, “Thank you!” and then ducked back inside only to reappear a second later. “Hey do you think I could take…”

“Keys are in it.”

“Thank you Masha!”

This time when he disappeared he stayed gone. They listened as the garage door opened and Masha’s Caddy hummed to life. They continued to listen until the car was too far down the street to be heard. “Don’t look at me like that. Let him drive it while he can. Before, he’s too big and heavy.” She laughed but stopped when he didn’t join in. “What?”

Dorghu shook his head and took another pull of his cigarette, “I love you.”

She stood up from his lap, smiling, “And I love you.” She dropped a quick kiss on his scarred upper lip. “I’m gonna go get dressed.”

He watched her grab her tablet and coffee and walk back in the house before he snubbed his cigarette out in the tray and went into the kitchen to start breakfast.

~~~~~~~

“Well if you don't want to go then don’t go.”

“I thought you said I can’t not go. That it would be rude.” You continued to pace through and around your kitchen while Nick sat at the table and watched.

“It would be.” He sipped at his smoothie.

You paused to look at him but immediately resumed your pacing. “She didn’t say that I had to be there. It was more like ‘you should come’ which… never mind I’ll go.”

He nodded and gave you an encouraging smile. “Good.”

When you took a sip of your coffee your stomach did a flip. You weren’t sure if it was the hangover or your apparent aversion to seeing Dorghu’s scary girlfriend again so soon. “Who am I kidding? I can’t spend all day with this woman! I’ll just tell her something came up.” Nick didn’t say anything and you sighed, coming to a stop across the table from him. “I have to go don’t I?”

He remained silent for a bit and then, “Masha… Well, if she were an orc she’d be, like the alpha female, the… the clan mother....” Nick gave you an understanding smile, “This is like her personally inviting you into the clan. Not just around the edges like before but actually into the family. Her family. For a human… especially one dating me… it’s kind of a big deal. “

At that moment your coffee was the most interesting thing you had ever seen, but you couldn’t bring yourself to drink it.

~~~~~~~

You thought your nerves at the club the night before were bad, in your kitchen that morning were terrible, but this was easily twenty times worse than both instances combined. The house was bigger and nicer than you expected but still nothing fancy. The neighborhood wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, of course there really was no such thing as ‘ordinary’ in LA.

There were two Escalades, a jacked up, blacked out Chevy Silverado and then a Dodge truck you recognized as Dorghus all parked in the driveway and a fancy little Cadillac XLR pulled into the open garage. You couldn’t help but wish you had convinced Nick to skip work and come with you but that wasn’t what Masha had said when she invited you. So, you came on your own. Which you had convinced yourself would go just fine, right up until you rang the doorbell.

From inside you heard a muffled, “Mikey!”

Followed by a slightly less muffled, “Got it.” Two seconds later the door swung open and there stood Dorghu’s son. “Hey [Your Name]! Come on in.” He stepped out of the way so you could enter the house and then shut the door behind you. “Here, everyone’s in the kitchen. Have you eaten yet?” He led her through the living room and around a long dining room table towards a counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area

The tension almost evarapted from you body entirely when you saw Nessa come around the opposite side of the counter, bouncing a hefty little orc boy on her hip as she went. “Hey! Glad you came!” She reached out the arm that wasn’t supporting the little one to give you a quick hug. “No Nick?”

“Working. He said he’d come by after if it was still going.” You smiled and gave the little boy a wave, only to have him bury his face in Nessa’s neck.

“Aww. Don’t mind Hale, the only human he isn’t shy with is Masha. He’ll come around. C’mon.You want some coffee? Or breakfast? We got all the best hangover food.” She whispered that bit behind Hales back like a secret, “ Pancakes, bacon, eggs, venison sausage, fried potatoes...”

“Coffee would be great.” You followed her the rest the way into the kitchen were you found To sitting at a smaller kitchen table.

“There she is.” He stood half way out of his chair to give you a hug which you happily returned.

Nessa went into the actual kitchen, still with little Hale hiding in her shoulder, where Masha and another young orc girl were working. “Kai can you take him for me?” She handed the little boy off. “Kai this is [Your Name], [Your Name ] this is Kailene. Mikey’s girlfriend.”

The girl smiled and waved, “Hi!” She hefted the little boy a few times to get him settled and then asked him in a silly voice, “Should we go see if Mikey’s Dad needs help outside? Hmm?” The boy giggled as they trailed after Mikey towards a set of glass, sliding doors you assumed led to a backyard.

“Here sit.” Nessa handed you a cup of coffee and pointed to the table. “Sugar is there, there might be cream in the fridge if you need it.” She smiled and nodded before going back into the kitchen.

You watched as she took a much smaller orc child from Masha. “Here’s her bottle, do you mind? So I can get cleaned up and go.”

“No problem, come here beautiful.” Nessa took the baby and the bottle and came to sit across the table from you and Tolar.

Masha continued to straighten up the kitchen and then washed her hands before she came to pick up a half empty coffee cup on the counter by the table. “[Your Name], glad you came.” She downed the rest of the coffee in one go, “I’m just gonna run and grab some stuff out of the office then we’ll go.” Halfway out of the kitchen she turned over her shoulder, “If you’re hungry go ahead and grab some pancakes. Otherwise To and Mikey are gonna eat them all.”

Tolar mumbled something in Orcish, loud enough for her to hear, around a mouth full of food, and she threw a remark of her own right back at him which had everyone laughing except for you. Even the baby waved her arms as Nessa giggled.

When Nessa glanced up and saw your face she cocked her head to the side, “Girl, you really should start trying to pick up some of the language. I mean you are dating one of us now.”

You groaned, “I know...My friggin Godfather is an orc, you think by now I’d know more than ‘hello’, ‘good-bye’ and ‘thank you’.”

To shoved half a pancake in his mouth, “Have Jakoby teach you “

Before you could reply the screen door slid open and Mikey came running inside, chased by Hale on his ungainly little legs, who was being chased by Dorghu. They were all laughing, Hale’s more like squeals of pure joy as he ran around and around the living room trying to catch Mikey and avoid being caught by Dorghu.

Before either of those things could happen Masha appeared at the bottom of the stairs and snatched up the littlest orc mid run. His squeals doubled as she hoisted him up, arms and legs flailing. When Dorghu came up behind Masha he grabbed her around the waist, picking them both up and carrying them into the kitchen. The whole while pretending to growl and snarl at the toddler over Masha’s shoulder.

You couldn’t help but smile and be completely floored by the sight of Dorghu and Masha laughing and playing. It was so, so far removed from how you normally saw them. Masha was still laughing when Dorghu let go of her and let her slip easily back down to the floor. “Okay little one,” Hale was still trying to growl back at Dorghu as Masha carried him into the kitchen. She said something to him in Orcish as she set him on the kitchen counter and re-tied his shoe. The little boy nodded vigorously and said something back to her, just a few words. Masha smiled, tucked her bangs behind one ear before she held her hand up for a high five.

She helped him down off the counter and he immediately resumed chasing Mikey, and now Kai, around the living room. “Somebody make sure he eats something, please.” When Masha looked your way she was still smiling and you felt oddly out of place, but not as nervous as you had fifteen minutes ago.

This Masha seemed like night to day with the Masha you had seen last night. The skimpy club dress and heels had been replaced with jeans, an oversized t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and a well worn pair of white tennis shoes.

“Okay, you heard Hale, he’s in charge while I’m gone. No matter what the big, scary one says.” She walked back to Dorghu and gave him a quick kiss on the scarred cheek. “Anyone need anything? If you think of something call. We’ll be back before the game starts.” She grabbed her phone and a set of keys off a small table by a side door in the kitchen and nodded your way, “Ready?”

You jumped up, took one more sip of the extremely strong coffee and nodded “Yeah, ready.” You followed her out the kitchens side door and into the garage. When you saw the fancy car again you realized it must be hers.

When you stepped up to the passenger door she waved you off, “Oh, no, we’re taking one of the Escalades. We’ll need the extra room.”

~~~~~~~

#bright #bright movie #bright fanfiction #Dorghu #dorghu x oc #dorghu fanfiction #jakoby #nick jakoby #jakoby x reader

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sunigyrl · 6 years

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Anqualë: Calls from the Darkness

Series Summary: The Queen of Mirkwood was lost to her kingdom almost two centuries ago after a battle with orc marauders. King Thranduil and Prince Legolas have worked to move on, but the past still shrouds their lives. Try as they might, the agony of loss still dogs their steps. Yet things are not always what they seem...

Series Pairings: Thranduil x Wife!OFC, Legolas x Mother!OFC

Warnings: Violence, choking, sword fighting, attempted rape, stabbing

Word Count: 4083 (yeah, I went there)

A/N: As promised, here is chapter two in the series. This one is a little more than twice the length of last chapter. There’s more action this chapter and a bit of violence. Please heed the warnings, especially if you think this may trigger you. As always, DM me if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

Part 1 | Part 3

Staring out of the bar covered window, Arahaelil looked out over the dark landscape beneath the tower. Though it was midday, a veil of gray hung over the land. But then this was a realm of darkness after all, so of course the sun would not shine here. No beauty lived in this place- for beauty could never thrive in this land. It was destined to be a place festering with evil and hatred, for such was the nature of it's master. This was the dark kingdom of Angmar, dominion of the Witch-King.

Taking a moment to survey the city below, Arahaelil was greeted with the usual sight. Orcs, wicked and loathing milled about performing their tasks alongside hoards of wicked men.

Long ago the men of this realm had let their hearts grow dark and evil. Their king was one of the nine that had received a ring of power in the days of old. As the strength of the ring's power grew to align with that of the One Ring of the Dark Lord, the king's heart grew colder and darker until it was consumed. But the pull of the ring did not stop at the king. It's venom spread into the hearts of his subjects until each and every one was blackened by its veil. Soon the king rallied a legion of orcs to his lands, and combined the strength of both armies to create a deadly force that had one purpose- to make way for the Dark Lord's return.

Continuing to watch from her prison, Arahaelil noticed a rider on a gray horse trotting toward the castle. For some reason unknown to her, this rider stood out amongst the others. Though he looked no different than the other men that she saw coming and going about the city, something "felt" different about this one. Focusing on him for a bit longer, she watched as he stopped near the inn and dismounted. Gathering some supplies, he passed the reins of his horse to a stable hand. As he moved to make his way into the inn, he stopped suddenly and turned around. Looking up at the tower, Arahaelil swore that she could feel his eyes boring into hers though she could not see them for his large gray hood. For a moment the gray rider simply stared at Arahaelil as she stared back. Something felt vaguely familiar about this rider, though her mind could not place it.

Making an attempt to push at his mind so that she could see his thoughts, her attention was quickly disrupted by the blowing of a horn. Looking beyond the city to the gate, she saw that a large envoy was returning. Which meant that he would be here soon.

Rolling her eyes in disgust, Arahaelil looked back to the place where the mysterious rider had been just a moment ago. However, as she looked for him, it seemed that he had disappeared.

"Get up slave", she heard from her perch on the end of her bed as the door opened. "The master wants to see you!"

Turning to stand, she saw a pale green orc standing in the doorway with a set of shackles in his hands. A blue orc and pale yellow one standing just off to either side with weapons at the ready should she try something.

"Hurry up! The master wants to see you right now!", he yelled again as he pulled her down to his level and clamped a large shackle around her neck. From it hung chains that connected to the shackles that were almost always fastened about her wrists. A longer chain was connected to the hand restraints that he used to lead her.

Taking hold of the chain, the orc roughly pulled Arahaelil from her prison and began the trek out of the tower and through the castle to the main hall. This was not the first time that she had made the journey to see the "master". Many times had he "called upon" her and demanded her presence. He knew, like many others, that she had great power. "The Dark Witch" was the whisper around the city. Many kept a great distance away from her, for it was rumored that she could control one's mind or body if you looked into her silver eyes. There were also tales that the master used her to cast spells on lands and weaken them ahead of his host. Though many of the tales were simply that, tales, there was some truth weaved into them. For she did have power.

As they neared the main hall, Arahaelil noticed a great number of rowdy men filling the outer halls. Taking note of their armor, she quickly realized who they were. "Ah, so it is Saellyn who has returned instead”, she thought as she scanned the now silent crowd that watched her carefully. Of course they stilled, no one wanted to draw the eye of the witch. Continuing on with a straight face and chilly air about her, she spotted a familiar figure amongst the hoard. The same gray hooded rider was standing within the group about ten yards ahead of her. Fixing her eyes on him, she focused her mind and projected a thought to him. "Who are you? Why are you here?" But he did not answer, merely cocked his head slightly to the side. She squinted in an effort to ascertain who he was and why he seemed to be following her. Before she could let the question slip to him once more, she felt a rough tug and was pulled to the right through the massive hall doors.

"Ah, so this is the fabled "Dark Witch" that strikes fear into the hearts of so many", a man's voice said from across the room. Training her eyes forward and away from him, the orcs lead Arahaelil to the furthest corner of the room before removing the neck shackle and long chain. Hurrying to leave, she found herself alone in the room with the man and at least three others from the sounds of their breathing.

"Tell me boys, does this "Dark Witch" frighten you?", the first man asked with a mocking tone.

"Aye, she's quite frightening indeed. So scary on her chain like a common dog", one of the others said with a laugh.

"Isn't she supposed to be some sort of elvish queen as well? A queen and a witch that can't even save herself. Why I'm quaking in my boots. Please, don't hurt me "your highness"", a third man mocked as he and the two others began to laugh even louder.

"Hold your tongues you idiots. Do you not know great power when you see it? Why do you think the master keeps her locked away in the highest tower, shackled with enchanted chains? He could have killed her as an example to the elves a long time ago. Yet she is still here. Even now he calls her presence to this meeting. There is more to this elf than meets the eye", the fourth man said with authority as he moved nearer to where Arahaelil stood.

"Tell me, queen, what power do you possess that has the master so enchanted?", he asked from his spot now two feet behind Arahaelil. He had noticed the way that the light from the fireplace dancing through her snowy tresses so that they looked like fire. Though he had come across elves several times in the past during the Witch-King's campaigns, never had he seen one quite like this. There were stories when he was a boy of an elf queen of the forest from long ago that had skin like the earth, hair that looked like the clouds lined with the silver backlight of the sun, and eyes colored as if they were filled by the moon. She was said to be one of the fairest beings in creation to look upon, yet she held a great and terrible power. He had always believed that to be nothing more than a child's tale for bedtime. Yet here stood what appeared to be the living legend. At once he decided that he had to touch her hair to see if it was as soft as it looked.

"You would do well to keep your hands to yourself, peasant", Arahaelil spat from her position, never turning her head to look at the men.

Quickly stilling his movements so that his hand was stopped in mid air, the man cocked his head in surprise and gave a curious look.

"Do not think me blind to your thoughts or ambitions. I see more than you know", she said darkly as she turned to him and fixed him with a steely gaze. The fire casting an orange glow to her silver eyes, giving them a fearsome look. Staring deeply into his eyes so that she pierced the depths of his very soul she continued, "I see all. Every thought, every plan you have formed in secret under the cover of night. You desire more than you are worthy of, and your heart is as black as pitch. You would have your master's seat should the opportunity present itself. Be careful of the desires of your heart, for they will find you out and lead to a treacherous end".

"Who does this powerless wretch think she is speaking to?! You mind your tongue when addressing Lumyr, First General of Angmar", the fourth man shouted indignantly from across the room as he and the two others drew their swords.

"Put those away you fools! Do you not realize that your weapons will not serve you in this fight. So narrow is your vision that you cannot see the strength of your foe beyond these chains. Even in her weakened state, she is still more powerful than you should ever hope to be. For it is the most beautiful of flowers that are the deadliest", Saellyn, emissary to the Witch-King, said as he entered the room followed by two orc generals.

"My lord, we did not mean..."

"Hold your tongue! You insolent fools would attack one that holds more value to the master than all of you? Be gone from my sight before I have your heads.", Saellyn spat to the three soldiers as they sheathed their swords and scurried from the room.

"I have called you all here because the master has determined that the next portion of the campaign should happen immediately. Rhudaur has already fallen and he wants to attack Cardolan swiftly before they have time to regroup and establish a force."

"But sir, that battle front would already be secure by now. Surely Cardolan has scouts that have returned with reports of the battle and have already begun fortifying the kingdom with the help of Arthedain. It would take a massive front to oppose them", Lumyr said with a look of surprise.

"But that is not yet the case, is it my dear?", Saellyn said as he approached Arahaelil and stood in front of her. Looking into her eyes he demanded, "Tell me what you see".

These were the moments of her captivity that she dreaded more than anything. Arahaelil despised being forced to use her gifts to aid the enemy in his quest for domination and raising a path for the Dark Lord. Yet she had no choice. Though they had tried to break her many times over, her resolve proved too strong. It was not until they took something of great value from her that she was finally forced to give in and offer insights for their campaigns. Though she could never outright provide false information because of the consequences, she only provided as little information as possible so as to appease them.

With a look of disgust crossing her face, Arahaelil's eyes swirled to a murky white as she let her mind drift so the vision could overtake her. "I see the Cardolan riders. They have not yet reached the borders of their land for their injuries. They have been slowed much more than they thought. Yet they ride on to warn their king. Their defenses are not as strong as they should be, for the attack on Rhudaur was greater than they imagined. It will be another two days before they reach their borders and raise the alarm".

"Then we move out now. Cardolan is only a day and a half journey. If we ride through the night, we can meet them with our full force before they reach Arthedain and the army arrives. The master will be most pleased. Go and ready the troops", Saellyn said to the orc generals with a dismissing nod of his head.

"Now, tell me what you see in regard to the Ring", he demanded in a low voice as he stepped closer.

"I have told you, I cannot see it. The Ring evades my sight. It will not reveal itself to me", Arahaelil said in an annoyed tone as her silver eyes met his stare.

"Do not lie to me. I know you see it. I have seen the extent of your power. Even in this weakened state. Now tell me where it is!", Saellyn roared as he grabbed Arahaelil by the throat.

For several moments they stood there in a silent standoff. Arahaelil was determined not to give him the answer that he sought. But Saellyn’s slowly tightening grip around her neck was proving a persuasive gesture.

"You will tell me what I want, one way or another. I will have my answer from you. Even if I have to break the thing you hold dear to do it", he threatened in a low voice as he pulled her face closer to his.

Understanding the new threat, Arahaelil fixed him with a defiant look before letting her silver eyes cloud over to a milky white once again. Slowly everything in the room disappeared and she found herself quickly moving through the landscape of Middle Earth until finally she stopped. As she looked around she saw that she was standing along the edge of a river at the base of a mountain.

"That's better", Saellyn said as he released his grip on her neck and moved his hand to her arm. "Now, show me what you see".

Immediately he entered the vision and they were standing upon the edge of the Great River. Just below the large waterfall. There were grasslands to their right and tall mountains to their left. "The Great River and the Great Waterfall", he said aloud.

"That sounds like the foot of the Misty Mountains my lord", Lumyr said timidly as he watched the entranced pair from his spot several feet away.

"Yes, the Misty Mountains. Of course. No wonder the master has felt a pull from that direction. Show me more".

"I see no more, only what I have shown you. The Ring is powerful and will not allow me to see its hiding place", Arahaelil said tiredly as her eyes slowly swirled back to their natural silver color. Though she held a tremendous amount of power, being in such a dark land significantly weakened her. The enchanted chains about her wrists intensifying the effect. It always took a great amount of energy for her to tap into her powers, and at the end she was always left completely spent.

"See, that was not so hard. Given the proper motivation you can still tap into the depths of your power. Now go and rest. I need you at full strength before the next campaign", Saellyn said smoothly with a devious smirk as he trailed his hand along her cheek.

"Guards! Take her back to the tower and bring her some food. Our little witch has had a long day and needs her rest", he said flippantly to the orcs as they redid Arahaelil's shackles and began leading her away.

"Come general. I have a special task for you and your men...", she heard him say as she exited the room. Arriving at the tower, the orcs undid her bonds, save for the wrist shackles, and pushed her back into her prison.

"Food will be along", the green orc snapped as he closed the door behind him. Still a bit shaken from stretching her powers so far in a weakened state, Arahaelil moved to lie down on her bed and closed her eyes.

“Perhaps I will find Thranduil in my dreams again”, Arahaelil thought to herself as she shifted her body into a more comfortable position. When Arahaelil first arrived in Angmar she would have dreams of her lost husband and son frequently. Many nights she would watch them, and on some nights she would interact with them. As the duration of her stay in Angmar increased, so too did her powers and her ability to reach out to her loved ones. The dreams dwindled so that she was only able to reach out to them once or twice every other year. Yet somehow she had found enough strength a week ago to find Thranduil in his dreams.

Just as she began to drift into sleep, and hopefully another dream, the door swung open. "Leave the food on the table", Arahaelil called from the bed.

"We didn't bring any food witch. But I do have something for you", said a familiar voice as Arahaelil sat up quickly. It was the first soldier and his two comrades from earlier. While the soldier had moved into the room and stood with his sword drawn, the others hung back and flanked either side of the doorway .

"You would harm the property of the master?", Arahaelil asked as she stood proudly. All evidence of her weakened state pushed down and replaced with a commanding exterior. While she hated to refer to herself as anyone's property, she knew that it would give the soldier pause. This would give her enough time to assess the situation and formulate a plan.

"Harm you? Oh no girly, I have no plans to "harm you". We simply want to have a bit of fun, don't we boys", the soldier said as he turned back to the others who nodded in approval. "I have no intentions of killing you, only roughing you up a bit. Maybe something more than that. After all, it has been a while since I've enjoyed the company of a beautiful woman. Especially a rare beauty like you. Not many men can say they had a powerful elvish queen".

"Now, we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. And I really hope you choose the hard way", he said with an evil grin.

"Do not be fooled by these bands about my wrists. I am not some wilting flower so easily subdued. Now I suggest you turn around and leave before you meet your end", Arahaelil's voice dripped with authority as she met her assailant eye to eye and lifted her chin in defiance.

"So it's the hard way you want it then. Have it your way", he said as he lunged toward her.

Easily sidestepping his advance, Arahaelil spun to her right as he went stumbling toward the wall. The benefit of being captive in this room for almost two centuries was that she knew every inch of her space from memory. Stepping backward so that she kept him in front of her, the soldier came charging toward her again. Just as he came upon her, she jumped into the air and grabbed one of the low hanging rafters and pulled herself up. His momentum carrying him forward and through the table that had been behind her. Jumping down, it was then that Arahaelil noticed that the two others hadn't made a move to enter the room. A quick glance to the doorway showed that they were no longer watching. Instead, she could hear the clanging of metal upon metal and fighting just out in the hallway. Having no time to think about who had come to her aid, she quickly turned her focus back to her now standing opponent.

"That was a mistake witch. I grow tired of your games. I'm going to have you, one way or the other".

Realizing that she had little room to maneuver, Arahaelil quickly threw her hands in the air and used the chain linking her shackles as a barrier to stop his fast approaching sword. Bearing down on her, Arahaelil quickly shifted her weight and used it as leverage to throw him back. As he charged her a second time, she sidestepped his advance and stuck her foot out to trip him. Falling to the floor, a dagger slipped from his belt. His sword clattering across the floor and stopping near the door. Seeing the dagger, Arahaelil made a dash to grab the blade. Just as she drew close enough to reach it, the soldier grabbed her ankle and caused her to fall.

Pulling her back toward him, she drew her leg back and kicked him in the face before crawling back toward the dagger. Fingers skimming the dagger’s handle, he grabbed her legs a second time and drug her back toward him. Kicking her legs in protest, Arahaelil struggled against his advance. However, with her hands bound together and both legs firmly in his grasp, she couldn't slip away.

"Stop squirming witch. You're mine now, and I'll do with you as I please".

"My name is not witch, and I belong to no man!", Arahaelil said loudly as she gave a swift head butt to his already injured nose and shifted all of her weight to her legs to push him off of her. Crawling away again, Arahaelil heard him spit blood before advancing toward her. Spotting the dagger just in front of her, she stretched her hands toward it in an attempt to pick it up. Her fingers just grazing the handle.

"I will kill you with my bare hands", the soldier screamed in a fit of rage as he came running toward her. Lunging with his hands extended, Arahaelil managed to grab the dagger and rolled over just in time to bury it to the hilt in the side of his neck. She watched as he grabbed at the handle in an attempt to pull it from his neck before slumping sideways.

Using the end of his tunic to wipe the blood from her hands, Arahaelil stood and surveyed her surroundings. Remembering the scuffle in the hallway that she heard earlier, all was now silent. Not knowing what lay outside, Arahaelil retrieved the soldier's sword and slowly moved toward the door. Stepping just outside, she looked to her right and saw that one of the men lay dead. Turning to her left, she saw the body of the other. Standing further down the hallway was the one who had come to her aid. It was the gray rider from earlier.

"Who are you and why did you come?", she asked suspiciously as she dropped into a defensive stance and raised the sword in challenge. Though this man had helped fend off her would-be attackers, she still did not know if his purpose was a noble one. Many had sought her power since her captivity, and this would not be the first time that a move was made to steal her away.

"Put down your sword, my queen. You need not defend yourself against me. I am here to help you", a commanding voice said.

"Help me? Who are you", she asked again. That voice was so very familiar to her, though she was having trouble placing it.

"Why, it has only been two centuries. A blink in the life of an elf. Surely you would recognize an old friend come to break you free of your prison", the rider said with a chuckle as he lowered his hood.

With a startled gasp, Arahaelil dropped the sword. Finally everything clicked; the familiar feeling she got from the rider, her inability to read his thoughts, and now his presence during the scuffle. Though how he got here was a mystery. How had he found her after all this time? It had been nearly two centuries since she had been taken prisoner, and no one had been able to find her. The Witch-King used many enchantments and evasion tactics to ensure of this. Moving closer to him, all she could do was utter his name.

"Gandalf".

Tag List: @daytimeheroicsonly @killmongersaidheyauntie @chefjessypooh @onyour-right @lamorenareina

#lord of the rings #the hobbit #thranduil #legolas #thranduil x oc #thranduil x black oc #elves #master list #suni writes

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gisforlife · 4 years

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SUUNTO X10M Wrist-Top GPS Computer Watch Review

Adventure trekking has always been one of my favorite activities and if the hiking trip is supported by GPS navigation, the margin for error is minimized! Perhaps the producers of Suunto X10 know this! My search for a modest and portable GPS navigation device for my hiking expeditions really came to an end with the new Suunto X10. Now that I have used it for a couple of months, I am quite satisfied and glad to key down a short review of what exactly I found in this small but sexy GPS NAVIGATION WATCH!

SUUNTO X10 Technical Description

The new Suunto x10m smartwatch has benefited from performance upgrades that make it faster, more powerful, and more reliable.

Performance is improved because it locates positions faster than the older model of the Suunto GPS watch line. Thus, during difficult conditions (under thick foliage, etc.) the new Suunto x10m smartwatch delivers more reliable indications.

Suunto x10m GPS smartwatch is hands-free so you can focus on the action. It records waypoints and routes so excursions can be studied and analyzed at home on a computer.

The Suunto x10m GPS smartwatch watch includes an altimeter, barometer, digital compass, thermometer, watch, and stopwatch functions. It’s a real sleek and sporty wrist computer.

SUUNTO X10M Wrist-Top GPS Computer Watch

SUUNTO X10M GPS Computer Watch with Altimeter, Barometer, Compass

Use improved GPS, with its stronger signal and faster GPS tracking, for safe navigation

Keep your hands free with the smallest and lightest GPS computer watch available

Read altitude, barometric pressure, record up to 50 routes, 500 waypoints as well as courses and record your speed and distance traveled, all with precision

Save your route and share it on Google Earth ™

The altimeter, barometer and compass functions

Take your time with longer battery life

Water resistant up to 100 meters

Buy Now

The Hardware talk:

To start off, the Suunto X10 is a smart and portable GPS navigation device that plays a dual role. The sleek and sexy curves of the device surely call for some attention. Although it is a bit heavy, you can use it as a watch for your day to day use, and trust me, you are going to get accustomed to the weight of the device. It uses a state of the art and durable plastic with small metal parts scattered here and there. The first metal you will notice is the buckle. As far as the battery is concerned, the Suunto X10 is superior to the prior versions and the battery run time has increased by 33%. The life expectancy of the battery is 5-7 hours with all the functions running in tandem. I mean: heavy GPS usage, data storage, compass functions, and backlight- all running at a time and continuously. However, it will survive for 3 long months (claimed by the manufacturer) with minimal usage which includes the only date and/or Baro/Alti mode! The hardware of Suunto X10 is resistant to water up to a depth of 100 meters and thus if rain or water evokes your desire to get wet, feel free to do so.

The Software Talk:

There is nothing really interesting that I encountered. It only allows me to edit way point or add some new way points on my trip. Planning a trip on Google Earth and then importing it back to the device is not possible but it surely allowed me to export my routes and view them on Google Earth. For the purpose of planning I had to bring the maps in any of the following image formats: .gif, .bmp or .jpg. There is another alternative as well! I can manually draw the maps but I accept that I hate drawing maps!

Words on Features:

Keying an exhaustive list of the features available on this GPS navigation system is really out of the scope. However, some of the features are discussed below:

Barometer:

When I turn on the barometer screen, it allows me to see the barometric pressure of the place at the sea level in that particular geographical region. The presentation is graphical and the barometric pressure development in the last six hours in that particular area is shown. The presentation is shown every 15 minutes.

Altitude:

Suunto X10 is fully capable of measuring the altitude of a place from barometric pressure and the calculations are far more accurate than those made by the GPS. It is to be borne in mind that changes in the barometric pressure can lead to change in altitude.

Alarm:

Now, fellow, you cannot really afford to think of this as a simple alarm to pull you out of your dreams. The watch can actually be used to set altitude and weather alarms. The barometric alarm always informs me of any changes in the level of barometric pressure.

Compass

Want to save the battery life? Use this compass and turn off the GPS. Well, you need to know how to use a compass in the first place. The compass has an additional feature called a bearing lock. Fix the target bearing and hit ‘Start’. Now follow the destination and you can see your deviations from your target point. That is charming I must say!

Navigation

In this particular model, you can create waypoints as well as routes by using your computer or while you are on the go! The activity mode will show the speed, location, etc but in navigation mode, you can see the distance to be covered, the direction to be followed, the estimated time for your arrival for every single waypoint on the route.

Comparaison Watch GPS Table

ImageProductPrice

9.6

Garmin Instinct, Rugged Outdoor Watch with GPSBest Deal

Rough GPS watch worked to withstand the hardest conditions

Developed to U.S. Military standard 810G for warm, stun, and water obstruction (appraised to 100 meters)

Implicit 3 pivot compass and barometric altimeter, in addition to various worldwide route satellite frameworks (GPS, Glonass and Galileo) uphold helps track in more testing conditions than GPS alone

Screen your assessed pulse, action, and stress; train with preloaded movement profiles. Lash Material: Silicone

Remain associated with savvy notices (with a viable cell phone) and programmed information transfers to the Garmin interface online wellness network

Utilize the trackback highlight to explore a similar course back to your beginning stage; Use the Garmin investigate site and application to design your outings ahead of time

Battery life: Up to 14 days in smartwatch mode, as long as 16 hours in GPS mode, as long as 40 hours in Ultratrac battery saver mode

Price

9.6

Garmin 010-01689-00 Forerunner 35; Easy-to-Use GPS Running Watch, BlackAmazon choice

Simple to utilize GPS running watch tracks how far, how quick and where you run

Evaluations pulse at the wrist, throughout the day and night, utilizing Garmin lift wrist pulse innovation

Associated highlights: Smart notices, programmed transfers to Garmin Connect, live following and music controls (when combined with a viable cell phone)

All-day action following assessments steps, calories and power minutes and reminds you when to move

Naturally transfers your information to Garmin Connect, our free online wellness network where you can join difficulties, get experiences and offer your advancement as you meet your objectives

Price

9.6

Garmin 010-01769-01 Vivoactive 3 Smartwatch

Simple to utilize GPS running watch tracks how far, how quickly and where you run

Evaluations pulse at the wrist, throughout the day and night, utilizing Garmin lift wrist pulse innovation

Associated Highlights: Smart notices, programmed transfers to Garmin Connect, live following, and music controls (when combined with a viable cell phone)

All-day action following assessments steps, calories and power minutes and reminds you when to move

Naturally transfers your information to Garmin Connect, our free online wellness network where you can join difficulties, get experiences and offer your advancement as you meet your objectives

Price

Conclusion

SUUNTO X10M Wrist-Top GPS Computer Watch

Suunto X10 is a hi-tech gadget for GPS navigation at higher altitudes. There is hardly any drawback to be pointed out and if you claim that the inability to import routes from Google Earth is a shortcoming, I will say that you are expecting way too much. Be happy with the extraordinary features of the Suunto X10! Trust me, I am happy!

Buy Now

Corne Said :

I have had my X10M now for a year and two months. I have sent the watch in for repairs as my bezel pealed off and the bezel kept clipping out. Suunto repaired it and after this, my battery time was way down, so I sent it back again as they did something wrong in the repair process. Suunto then replaced my watch with a new one! The problem is two days later the new watch’s bezel started un-clipping again! Well to say the least my new watch is now back for repairs again:-( This is a great watch but I would not recommend it as the bezel is a great problem (That Suunto does not want to acknowledge) and you cannot keep sending a watch to the repair center for a new bezel every month for the rest of your life.

The post SUUNTO X10M Wrist-Top GPS Computer Watch Review appeared first on GIS for LIfe.

https://gisforlife.com/?p=383

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alrightpoppins · 7 years

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I had an angsty prompt for Wayhaught I feel like Nicole when receiving the text would automatically think about what Goononna had said to her and also what Wynonna said to her “you’re not my sisters keeper” etc. I feel like she’d feel terrible and like Waves deserved better and they having the talk

Wayhaught prompt for Nicole thinking about what Goononna said to her about Waverly needing space and actually doing it

I’ve had two angsty Wayhaught prompts in my inbox for like… months and they’re similar so I’m combining them. Sooo this is happening now.

**for this to work, there would’ve had to have been a biiiit more time between the text and the widow attacking Nicole. it takes place between the finale climax and the final group scene (so the scene with the laughing and cute little kiss hasn’t happened).

Dear Control Freak. I will talk to you when I want to talk to you. Until then, have a nice life hurting the people you love.

The backlight of Nicole’s phone felt like a heat lamp, her face aflame, redness rushing to her cheeks. Waverly’s words cut into her deeper than she cared to admit, a text sent out of anger shouldn’t have hurt her this way. Shouldn’t have made her lungs feel like they were on fire, her eyes burn, her heart contract with every beat. Breathe Nicole, breathe.

She knew that Waverly was angry with her. That she wouldn’t use such harsh words if she weren’t hurting because of what Nicole had done. What Nicole had done… On some level, she knew that she deserved this.

This wasn’t the first time she had taken the reigns of a situation that wasn’t hers to dictate. With only the best of intentions, she had managed to slip her nose into places it didn’t belong, places that she should never have thought to violate, more times than she cared to admit. Nicole is a fixer, it’s just her nature.

She sees her loved ones hurting and she wants to help. More than that, she wants to protect them from any pain that they might feel in the future. This was the case with Waverly more than anyone else who came before her. She had loved that girl since the moment she laid eyes on her, never wanted anything more than to hold her and protect her. To shield her from any pain.

But trying to do that for her girlfriend had only hurt her. And now she was the one who had caused Waverly pain. And that… That was something that she couldn’t accept. Words from weeks ago rang in Nicole’s head.

“You’re not my sister’s keeper.”

Wynonna was right. Nicole had no control over Waverly. And that was fine, she didn’t want to control her. She just wanted to protect her. But that wasn’t her place either, not without behind her girlfriend’s back anyway. Not when it meant keeping secrets from her.

Certainly not when it meant hurting her.

And as much as she hated it, as much as she told herself that it wasn’t true, that it was just the demon talking… Nicole couldn’t help but think of what Mictian had said when possessing Wynonna. Maybe Waverly really did need space. Maybe Nicole was smothering her.

Now more than ever she believed that it was true. She decided that she’d rather take a step back than lose Waverly for good.

So Nicole took a step back.

Waverly noticed.

She noticed how Nicole would gaze after her at the station without attempting to speak to her. She noticed how Nicole stopped texting her apologies every hour on the hour, didn’t reply when Waverly asked if they could talk. Eventually she noticed how Nicole didn’t reply if Waverly said hello to her in the morning. But mostly she noticed how much she missed her, worried that Nicole had gotten tired of waiting for Waverly’s forgiveness but too mad, too stubborn to end this charade they had fallen into.

And then Nicole almost died.

Nicole almost died thinking that Waverly hated her. She almost died without Waverly knowing if they would have ever been okay again. Nicole almost died without Waverly ever having told her that she loves her.

And God, how she loves her. Every part of her loves Nicole, every part of Nicole. Her flaws, her overprotective tendencies, her infuriating little smirk when she’s pretending to be coy.

Waverly Earp loves Nicole Haught and she does so fiercely.

And it’s that thought, a thought that she has in a hospital room with her entire heart lying in a bed unconscious, that makes Waverly realize why Nicole had done what she did. She was trying to protect her. Misguided and invasive? Maybe. Probably. But would Waverly have done anything differently if the roles were reversed? Maybe not.

She would do anything to keep Nicole happy, to keep her safe.

She would do anything to keep Nicole alive.

And then she betrayed Wynonna to save Nicole. And the witch cursed them, made her sister disappear. And she forgot.

In a twisted alternate world, she forgot her love for her sister and she forgot her love for Nicole. They could have been blown up in a barn in a world where she didn’t know that she was in love with Nicole until it was too late. In a world where they were drawn to each other but kept at arm’s length. A world where they were no less in love but so much less together. And now Waverly aches.

With so much weighing on her mind, she needs her girlfriend. She needs to still have Nicole as her girlfriend. To hold her and talk to her and God, if they make it through this fight she will never freeze her out again, she swears it.

“Nicole?”

The redhead takes a deep breath when she heard her girlfriend’s voice sound through the station. It’s happy hour at Shorty’s, Nicole is alone in the office on a slow day. No buffers. No excuses.

They had kissed after the barn explosion, had turned to each other for comfort, for affection, for support during all the craziness that went down with the widows. Had brushed everything under the rug, pretended as if they had moved past it.

But no, no they hadn’t moved past it. And if they both wanted to move forward, and they did they did they did, they had to talk about this… this mess that they had created.

Nicole takes another breath and meets the hazel eyes that she loves so much, so fiercely.

“Waves?”

Waverly makes her way to Nicole’s desk, perches herself on the edge, takes Nicole’s hand. “We’re going to talk about this.”

Nicole squeezes her girlfriend’s hand, her free fingers plucking at her uniform pants. “We’re going to talk about this.”

“You ghosted me. I know, I know that I was being petty and ignoring you but... I didn’t- I was just trying to gather my thoughts. I would have called you but you stopped talking to me when I was here, didn’t reply to my texts. You ghosted me.”

Nicole blanched, “I- No! I didn’t…” Her brow furrows, “Yeah… I guess I did, didn’t I? Shit, Waves. I didn’t mean to. You weren’t answering and Wynonna told me that I should give you space and get a Tinder and I was already being so overprotective and controlling, I didn’t want to smother-”

“Wait wait wait, Wynonna told you what??”

Nicole is quick to backtrack, “No! No no, it wasn’t Wynonna. It was Mictian. I mean… I didn’t know that at the time but it was the demon talking. I just- Wynonna- the real Wynonna- had said something about me not being your keeper. And she was right! She was so right. But when everything went down between us and I read that... the text, it all came back and I…” Nicole sighs, ending her ramble weakly, “I thought that you needed time away from me. And the longer it went on, the worse it got. I was hurt and... I don’t know, Waves. I didn’t know how to reply. I wasn’t ready to talk when you wanted to.”

Waverly shakes her head, eyes locked on the floor, “I never should have sent that text, baby. I was angry and stupid and I wanted to hurt you because I felt betrayed. But that’s no excuse, I hurt you and I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.”

“I deserved it.”

“No!” Waverly meets Nicole’s eyes, “No, you were trying to protect me. And you went about it the wrong way and yes it hurt me but your intentions were good. Me- I was… I was cruel and I wanted to get back at you, I kissed Rosita! Why? Why did I do that?”

“I forgave you for that,” Waverly had mentioned it on the drive to the edge of the triangle. Nicole had been hurt but she knew that there was nothing behind it. And she didn’t really have a place to be angry about it considering her current marital status.

“You shouldn’t!”

“I have a wife.”

Waverly pauses. “Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“No, but do you have feelings for Rosita?”

“No! Of course not.”

“And I don’t love Shay.” The implication was there, I don’t love Shay but I love you. I don’t love Shay like I love you. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. She’s said it before. So has Waverly.

But death bed confessions and alternate reality realizations didn’t count for Nicole. And she wasn’t going to push Waverly, never again. This next step had to be Waverly’s to take.

The younger girl nods slowly and then takes Nicole’s other hand, holding them both tightly, holding them against her own chest, her heart. “We can’t do this again Nicole. We need to talk, communicate when things are going wrong. We need to be honest with each other. Always.”

“Always. I promise you, Waverly.” Nicole’s eyes wide, her face showing her vulnerability, letting herself be completely open to her girlfriend.

“Good. Because Nicole, I can’t lose you,” Waverly takes a deep breath. “I felt like I was going to die when you were in that hospital. There was a piece of me missing in that crazy non-reality that we were in, a piece of my heart-”

“Waves you didn’t have Wynonna.”

“Nicole don’t interrupt me when I’m monologuing.” She fixes her girlfriend with a stern look and they grin at each other for a moment before Waverly grows serious again.

“I love my sister with my entire heart, but she doesn’t hold it.” Waverly kisses Nicole’s hands, presses them to her cheek and then her chest again. “You do, Nicole. You have my heart and I trust you with it. I ache when you’re not around, I hurt when you’re in pain, my heart sings in your hands when you’re happy. I-... I love you, Nicole Haught.”

Nicole’s eyes go wide, tears springing up without her permission, “Yeah?”

Waverly lets out a watery laugh, “Yes, baby. I love you. God, I love you so much.”

Nicole bites her lip, releases it, squeezes Waverly’s hands, “I love you too. I have since that first day I met you. I didn’t- I couldn’t explain it- I still can’t. But I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you, Waverly Earp. Maybe even before then.”

Waverly releases a heavy breath through a light laugh. She slips off the desk and into her girlfriend’s lap, arms tight around her neck, Nicole’s wrapping around Waverly’s waist. Their lips meet, soft and slow, just feeling each other, reminding themselves that they’re okay again.

The brunette breaks the kiss after a short time, their foreheads coming together, eyes closed. “I never want to fight with you again.”

Nicole smiles, “Girlfriends fight all the time baby, it’s normal.”

Waverly’s forehead scrunches up. Nicole can’t see it but she feels it. “Ummm it’s kind of the worst.” There’s a smirk in her voice and Nicole knows that her girlfriend is remembering the same moment that she is.

Nicole lets out a light chuckle, breath ghosting across her love’s lips, her head nodding just slightly. She tightens her arms around the smaller girl and drops her head to her shoulder, letting a kiss press against Waverly’s neck, “It’s totally the worst.”

#wynonna syfy #wayhaught #wayhaught fanfic #mine

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tortugahs · 7 years

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While food culture in Omaha is robust and growing, sometimes it is hard to see a variety of cuisines in the market. There is a lot of bar food and American food along with a small number of ethnic cuisines. There’s a few good sushi joints (and a few bad ones) but a variety of quality Japanese food is hard to find. Ika Ramen is a really nice gem in the middle of Benson that hits all of these criteria.

Ika is located in the Benson neighborhood of Omaha, honestly my new favorite area! There are lots of great bars and restaurants a short drive away from the crowded Old Market and rowdy downtown areas. There’s still lots of activity, but a much more diverse and interesting crowd of all ages.

Ika is tucked away on the main street, and has a small area with tables and a few bar-style areas. When we got there, there was no available seating, so the waiter asked if we wanted to wait in their underground bar. Would we? I mean, of course! Through a very discreet door that says, “Adults Only,” is a surprisingly spacious underground bar. The walls are covered in cool spray-paint style artwork and is very dimly lit. I got a sake-style saison and Michelle had a custom cocktail made – the bartenders were incredibly cool. Soon enough our table became available and we went back upstairs! The actual restaurant, as Michelle mentioned, seemed to serve more authentic -style Japanese food but with some modern decor. The restaurant – especially at night – didn’t have a ton of natural lighting, so my apologies for the grainy pictures. But, shoutout to Michelle for using her phone light as backlight for my pictures, it definitely helped!

my dry saison and michelle’s fancy cocktail

Their menu features ramen, kushiyaki (skewers), donburi, small plates, and some raw dishes. One of my first posts was for Donburi, a restaurant in D.C. that exclusively serves donburi, a rice dish with meat and various toppings. I was very excited to see this dish here in Omaha! I got the Spicy Tuna Donburi, with spicy tuna, tempura topping, and avocado topped with green onion and spicy mayo. The rice was warm with the minced spicy tuna on top, which was a great combination. The fish was also at the right level of spice, it didn’t make me cry and I didn’t have to ask for sriracha to spice it up. The dish did need something crunchy, like pickled ginger or cucumber. I did ask for some, which they said they didn’t have available. Otherwise, the dish and its portion size were great!

spicy tuna donburi

Kelsey had the Buta Kumchi Don with pork belly, a fried egg, kimchi, over rice. She really liked her dish – it was a much bigger portion but with more variety in toppings. Michelle had the Kimchi Ramen, which she was super excited about and really enjoyed!

buta kimchi don on the left

kimchi ramen with pork and egg

I will definitely be back here to try their ramen and their other varieties of donburi. I think my donburi dish can be easily improved. I would give it 4 cones based on my food and its flavors, but the underground bar clearly warrants a .5 cone increase. Instead of going downtown for the same old sushi, definitely drive the extra few minutes to Benson and try Ika instead!

all of our yummy yummy food!

The Bottom Line

The next step into Japanese food in Benson – try the Donburi!

Cone Rating: 4.5 Cones

Location: Benson, Omaha, NE

Price: $$ (Around 10-20$ for food + drink)

On the Internet: Ika Ramen and Izakaya’s Website, Facebook page, and Yelp page

Ika Ramen and Izakaya While food culture in Omaha is robust and growing, sometimes it is hard to see a variety of cuisines in the market.

#beer #Benson #cocktail #dinner #Donburi #Omaha #pork belly #Ramen #tuna

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dazombi3fari3 · 5 years

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Hello dolls! I hope you are having a wonderful Christmas Eve…. It’s cold and rainy here in Florida and my Fibromyalgia is being effected by it.

Today was my Olaplex hair care day so I had to lay down for a little after doing my hair. I was seriously thinking of skipping my makeup today but it’s really the thing that makes me feel happy, I love the process of putting on my makeup…. So I decided I would just take my time and do the best I could.I had planed to do a gold green and red eye look today but it would have taken a lot more energy than I could spare today… so I changed the outfit I will be wearing to our Christmas Memorial Party to just a pair of jeans and this super cute Green top…. so I thought OK …. just green today….. so let’s jump into the face of the day…..

BASE: I used 2 primers today …. Makeup Forever Step 1 Skin Equalizer ($17 at Sephora) to blur my pores, and BECCA Backlight Priming Filter ($39 at Ulta and Sephora) to give me a bit more glow (I forgot to do my nightly moisturizing routine last night so I needed a little more dew to my look). I color corrected (yup another sleepless night) with my Tarte CC Undereye Corrector ($25 at Ulta and Sephora) in the color Light-Medium, and concealed my under eyes with ELF HD Lifting Concealer ($4 on their website) in the color Light. For foundation today I chose NARS All Day Luminous Weightless Foundation ($49 at Sephora) in the color Light 5 Fiji. I set my full face with Charlotte Tilbury Airbrush Flawless Finish Skin Protecting Micro-Powder ($45 on Beautylish’s website) in the color 2 Medium. I bronzed my face with NYX Matte Bronzer ($10 at Ulta) in the color Deep Tan.

EYES: I primed my eyes with Tarte Shape Tape ($25 at Ulta) in the color Light-Medium Honey. The only palette I used today was the BH Ultimate Matte 42 Color Shadow Palette ($28 on their website). I set the Shape Tape with the 1st shade on the 3rd row (a cream matte). For my 1st transition shade was the 4th color on the 3rd row (a yellow toned orange matte) followed by the 4th shade on the 4th row (a peach toned tan matte). For my Crease shade I used the 3rd shade of the 4th row (a mid-toned brown matte)…. I used a bit more of this color on the first 1/3 and last 1/3 of my lid to contour it a bit. For my lids I combined 3 colors (2 from the palette and 1 from Urban Decay)…. On the back of my hand I mixed Urban Decay single shadow ($20 at Ulta) in the color Loaded (a blacked emerald with true green reflect shimmer) with the 5th shade of the last row (a blue toned green matte) and the 4th shade of the last row (a deep forest green matte). I then deepened the outer v with the 6th shade of the 5th row (a deep true brown matte). On my lower lash line I used 4th shade of the 4th row (a peach toned tan matte) as my drop shadow and then I deepened the lower lash line with the 6th shade of the 5th row (a deep true brown matte). I lined my water line with NYX Faux Whites Eye Liner ($8 at Ulta) in the color Linen. I highlighted my inner corners with Urban Decay single shadow ($20 at Ulta) in Midnight Cowboy (a pale pink with silver glitter). For my brows I used ELF Ultra precise Brow Pencil ($5 on their website) and Wow Brow ($4 on their website) in the color Dark Brown. I highlighted my brows with the BH Studio Pro Brow Highlighter ($5 on their website) on the matte side…. and set the highlighter with the 1st shade of the 1st row (a vanilla white). I primed my lashes with Loreal Voluminous Primer ($5.99 at Target) and chose Charlotte Tilbury Full Fat Lashes ($29 on the Beautylish website) in the color Glossy Black.

CHEEKS and Lips: I chose a soft color today for my blush… Tarte Amazonian Clay 12-Hour Blush ($29 at Ulta) in the color Captivating (a pale true coral matte). I highlighted the tops of my cheek bones, temples, brow bones, and Cupid’s Bow with Milani After Glow ($10 at Ulta) in the color 01 Strobelight (a peachy champagne). I lined my lips with Charlotte Tilbury Lip Cheat ($22 on the Beautylish website) in the color Pillow Talk (a pink nude) and filled my lips in with Charlotte Tilbury K.I.S.S.I.N.G ($34 on the Beautylish Website) in the color Bitch Perfect (a peachy nude cream).

Final Thoughts ….

BECCA Backlight Priming Filter: A+++ Out of all of the glow primers out there this is hands down my favorite primer! It leaves the skin looking radiant with out looking like a disco ball or looking greasy. I have been known to use this primer on days where I am not wearing any other makeup besides mascara and lip gloss…. I can’t tell you just how amazing this product this is … It gives any foundation a lit from within glow to it.

ELF HD Lifting Concealer: A I keep forgetting I have this concealer …. I find I really like the look it gives my under eyes. It only comes in 3 shades and none of those shades are deep enough for our deep skinned beauties. I’m running out of this concealer so I will have to place an order soon …. This one remineds me of the NARS Radiant Creamy Concealer, except the ELF one sets perfectly with just a tinny bit of powder.

NARS All Day Luminous Weightless Foundation: A Comes in 20 shades with 9 shades for deeper skin. It’s a full coverage dewy foundation. It remains tacky so you will need to set it with powder …. in fact it’s so tacky I always have to set my face 2 times. I like this foundation a lot and will probably repurchase it once I am out of it.

Charlotte Tilbury Full Fat Lashes: B+ This is a nice mascara, but it’s too natural looking … it doesn’t lengthen or thicken the lashes at all… I like it for natural days…. for glam days it needs a primer. I don’t know if I will repurchase this one or not just yet.

Tarte Amazonian Clay 12-Hour Blush: A+++ I have said this before but this is my favorite formula for blush … It’s creamy, finely milled, and never chalky or patchy. There isn’t any crazy pigmentation here … it’s just right …. and the colors are so amazing… I own several and will be purchasing other colors soon.

Milani After Glow: B++ These highlighter are super powerful but they have glitter in them and emphasize every imperfection… I like this highlighter a lot for my cupid’s bow and my brow bones, but on my temples and cheek bones it’s just too much and i always forget to use a light hand. I may repurchase this one once I hit pan …. I’ll have to wait and see if there are any new releases with less glitter.

Well that’s all for now dolls… I hope you have an amazing Christmas and that you are found with plenty of spoons and as close to pain free as possible.

As always remember to save a spoon for a bit of makeup ….

XOXO

Green Smokey Eyed Face of the Day Hello dolls! I hope you are having a wonderful Christmas Eve.... It's cold and rainy here in Florida and my Fibromyalgia is being effected by it.

#Beauty #Face of the day #Fibromyalgia #Fibromyalgia Awearness #hair #Hair Care #Makeup #makeup review

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arthurhwalker · 5 years

Text

Premium 2-in-1 Comparison

It’s finally happening. The world is getting 13-14 inch 2-in-1 convertibles, with premium graphics and display options. It’s kind of a big deal, considering the last one worth mentioning came out over three years ago. The Dell XPS 13 7390, HP Spectre x360 13t Touch, and Lenovo Yoga C940 14” are the three worthiest contenders I’ve seen.

Which one is best? Well, that depends.

Dell XPS 13 2-in-1, via Dell.com

Base Specifications

All three top out with a 10th Generation Intel Core i7-1065G7 processor, with Intel Iris Plus Graphics, 802.11AX (2 x 2) WiFi 6, Bluetooth 5.0, Windows Home or Pro, Microsoft precision trackpads, biometrics via fingerprint reader.

Dell’s model can have up to 32 GB 3733MHz Memory Onboard, while Lenovo and HP can have 16GB.

HP’s model can have up to 2 TB PCIe NVMe M.2 SSD, Lenovo and Dell advertise that they ship with 1 TB maximum, but Lenovo’s will also ship with 2 TB if you order a custom rig.

Lenovo’s model comes with a garaged stylus, as opposed to an optional full size stylus (Dell), or a full sized MPP stylus in the box (HP). Personally, I like a garaged stylus for two reasons. You always have a stylus with you, and (from my experience) the manufacturer tends to tune the pen input on the device when a stylus is part of the chassis.

Lenovo and HP have 60 Wh batteries, while Dell has a 51 Wh battery. All three boast some sort of rapid charge technology. Paired with their best display options, the Lenovo probably has the best battery life, sans adjustments for hardware tweaks and power management firmware.

HP’s model comes with LTE as an option, but there’s an issue with that I’ll talk about later.

IO & Ports

Dell’s model: 2x Thunderbolt 3 with power delivery and DisplayPort (4 lanes of PCI Express Gen 3), 3.5mm headphone/microphone combo jack, microSD card reader

HP’s model: 1 headphone/microphone combo, 1 USB 3.1 Gen 1 Type-A (HP Sleep and Charge), 2 USB 3.1 Gen 2 Type-C™ with Thunderbolt™ 3 (40 Gb/s signaling rate, Power Delivery 3.0, DisplayPort 1.4, HP Sleep and Charge), microSD card reader

Lenovo’s Model: Two USB 3.1 Type-C Gen 2 / Thunderbolt 3 (with function of Power Delivery, DisplayPort), one USB 3.1 Type-A Gen 2, 3.5mm (0.14inch)stereo audio / microphone combo jack

It kind of depends on what you need. Dell has Gen 3, Thunderbolt 3 ports, but that’s basically it, other than the microSD card reader. HP has the most IO, but the placement on the device is weird, with one port even coming off diagonally from a corner. Lenovo has all the IO, neat and tidy on the left side, but lacks a microSD card slot.

HP Spectre x360 13t Touch, via HP.com

Display Specs

Dell’s model has a 13.4-inch UHD+ (3840 x 2400), 16:10 ratio, WLED, Touch Display, HDR 400 Certified, 90% DCI P3 Color Gamut, 500 nits, 1500:1 contrast ratio, with a 0.65% anti-reflective coating.

HP’s model has a 13.3" diagonal 4K UWVA BrightView micro-edge AMOLED multitouch (3840 x 2160). Being AMOLED, I’m sure the color range and contrast ratio are amazing, but I can’t find the exact specifications.

Lenovo’s model has 14.0" (356mm) UHD (3840x2160), glossy display, LED backlight, IPS, HDR 400, 500 nits, 16:9 aspect ratio, 90% DCI-P3, DolbyVision.

I think HP would probably win this category, except that you can’t have the OLED and LTE in the same custom ordered rig. For whatever reason, you have to choose between those two features. LTE in a 2 in 1 would be epic, but not at the expense of a premium display option. Dell might have the best screen display option here, but I don’t know that the average person would be able to tell the difference between it and that of Lenovo’s model, they’re so close.

Aesthetics

Dell’s XPS 13 comes in Platinum Silver exterior, with either a black interior deck, or arctic white interior.

HP ships with Natural Silver, Nightfall Black, or Poseidon Blue.

Lenovo has an Iron Grey or Mica color.

The Dell has an unfinished look with blocky 360 degree hinges that look like they are from 2013. It just doesn’t feel or look that nice held in the hand. Normally I like white accents on laptops, but it somehow looks cheap on the Dell.

That said, bezels are tight, and I bet the design handles heat thrown by the rig relatively well. It might be that a skin or decal could greatly improve the look of Dell’s XPS 13.

The HP is a love it, or hate it, kind of look. It’s quirky “gem cut” aesthetic with high contrast between flat color and polished metals is going to appeal to you, or not. The branding on the laptop isn’t subtle, but it’s decent looking. They are nice, but definitely an acquired taste.

HP’s 2-in-1 looks very small, like they went all out to make it compact. That might be a bonus for some folks, or a pain if you like have a palm rest to type, bezels to lean on while you draw, and similar.

Lenovo’s C940 is one of the best looking laptops out there. The combined asymmetry between the top and bottom chassis, soft lines of the sound bar hinge, and understated branding is easy on the eyes. The Mica color is gorgeous, pictures on the website not remotely doing it justice.

Lenovo Yoga C940 14”, via Lenovo.com

Likely, by the dimensions, this will be the most comfortable to hold, use, and draw on. Lenovo didn’t try to make a 13.5″ laptop out of what should be a 14″ form factor. I like having somewhere for my palm, or the side of my hand to rest as I type or draw.

Even so, the Yoga C940 is much reduced from the size of my Thinkpad P40 Yoga I’d held up for comparison.

Sound / Audio

All three models probably have pretty comparable sound, each with their own marketing babble.

Dell’s 2-in-1 has Stereo speakers with Waves MaxxAudio Pro.

HP’s model has Bang & Olufsen, dual speakers, with HP Audio Boost.

Lenovo’s C940 has HD Audio, four speakers with Dolby Atmos certification.

Audio quality is a pretty subjective thing, but based on specifications, design, and placement, the Lenovo C940 is likely to have the best sound, in either laptop or tablet modes because speakers are built into a rotating soundbar hinge, coupled with dual front firing on the bottom of the chassis. The Dell is likely a close second, having 2 W x 2 for 4W total. Speaker placement is down, but along the sides.

Pen Stylus Technology

The Dell doesn’t come with a stylus, but is offered with an optional Dell Premium Active Pen with 4096 levels of pressure sensitivity, tilt functionality, and attaches magnetically to your device. This pen is advertised as being UPP working on either Wacom AES 1.0 and 2.0 or T-Trig MPP 1.51 devices. According to Windows Central, it has 240hz reporting rate. Pretty nice, but it is $100, and takes a AAAA battery.

HP’s Spectre x360 comes with an N-Trig Microsoft Pen Protocol non-tilt stylus in the box. For taking notes this is probably great, and will likely have good palm rejection. For digital artwork, look elsewhere.

Lenovo comes with a smaller garaged Lenovo Active Pen. Lenovo makes a Wacom AES 2.0 Lenovo Pen Pro, with tilt functionality that you can order separately, for $60 retail, and it is often on sale. It has an internal battery that can be charged with a USB-c cable. Nice!

Having a garaged stylus pen, and the option for a USB-c chargeable pen is pretty compelling if you rely on having a pen stylus, ready to go, at all times. For my use case, Lenovo wins this category, both for features, and value for the money. Still, that universal pen protocol stylus by Dell sounds interesting. What worries me is that pen input seems like an afterthought for the Dell, and Lenovo’s C940 comes with really nice custom pen drivers and software.

Accessories

Dell’s XPS 13 has a “premium” sleeve (it looks okay), pen stylus, and USB-c mobile adapter option right on the product page, all discounted if you bundle them in with your device. You can’t look at them from the product page, finding them once you’re already in configuring your order. With the discounts, the accessories are reasonably priced.

HP lets you bundle theft protection, an external DVD burner, tilt pen, and a plethora of dongles and adapters. Not sure what HP’s strategy is here.

Lenovo has a variety of software and accessories you can bundle with the Yoga C940, including a sweet premium sleeve for the Yoga line of 13 and 14 inch laptops. However, Lenovo makes you hunt through their website for the USB-c chargeable Lenovo Pen Pro, unless you add it from the product page from the top accessories tab.

It shouldn’t be difficult to accessories a premium laptop in the $2000 USD range. The website should have a streamlined process for marketing these things, and letting you select them during the configuration process. Dell comes the closest to doing this on the back end of setting up your order, Lenovo up front on the product page, and HP not really at all.

Price and Value

Dell’s XPS 13, maxed out, with Arctic White color (costs extra), (32 GB ram, 1 TB storage), dropped into my shopping cart at $2759.99 retail. 4 years or Premium Support Plus, is $560 (but sometimes discounted to the price of 3 years at $430). Accidental Damage Service for four years is $129 (currently discounted from $159). Extended Battery service, for years 2 and 3 of System Life, 2 years, is $89.

HP’s x360 Spectre, maxed out, Poseidon Blue (costs extra) (16 GB ram, 2 TB storage), with AMOLED display, no LTE, Tilt Pen Upgrade (as opposed to included non-tilt pen), costs $2009.99. 3 years of HP Warranty with Accidental Damage protection is $187.99 (as of writing this, discounted from $229.99).

Lenovo’s C940, maxed out (16 GB ram, 2 TB storage), Mica or Iron Grey, costs $2119.99 retail (but Lenovo always has sales). 4 Years of premium onsite warranty, with accidental damage protection, costs $268 additional monies.

Obviously, the winner here depends on your specific use case. The Dell seems really expensive, regardless, but if you absolutely need 32 GB ram, you will pay for the privilege. The Dell also has a smaller battery, making it less useful for on the go use. HP’s model has the better display tech, and amount of IO, for the money, but if you are a digital artist, this is pretty much a not an option with the pen stylus technology they use.

For digital artists, that do not need 32 GB of RAM, the Lenovo C940 is probably the best bang for your buck. It’s hundreds less, has a garaged stylus, more affordable service options, and sports a bigger battery.

Conclusion

For some 3D rendering, the Dell might make sense, but for any render that required 32 GB of RAM, even the top end processor for the XPS 13 will probably take all night and day to complete. For emulation, generally, 16 GB is plenty, but I’m sure some folks would argue otherwise. Dell Service better be premium, white gloves on for that price!

For taking notes, photo editing, and content consumption, the HP is probably the way to go, because the AMOLED display, with some decent headphones, will be awesome for that. HP has this priced to sell, and their warranty service and options are affordable. The substandard pen stylus input severely limits the more commercial and creative use cases, though.

For digital art, and design, the Lenovo C940 is going to be the way to go. The soundbar hinge makes this a nice device for content consumption, or playback of music at your D&D table. Obviously, that appeals to me. ;-D I think overall value, bang for buck, warranty and service options included, Lenovo probably wins. This is extra true if you wait for Lenovo to double up a coupon with a sale.

#Dell #HP #Lenovo #Tech #Comparison #2 in 1 convertible #tablet form factor

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