#I’m guardin myself

[bnt0]

Any band recs? I’m in desperate need of new music.

this was unnecessarily hard for me, as in I made it hard for myself. I feel like a lot of the music I like is love it or hate it. Also I’m bad at labeling genres. I’ll list some out and attempt to name the genre i guess so you can skip definite no’s lol

also you (and anyone else who wants to) should let me know your own favorite artists!

read more, I listed like 30 artists idk what you want😭

Petey (alt indie I guess?)

Lowertown (indie punk duo?)

Carly cosgrove (pop punk I guess?)

hot mulligan (pop punk)

The front bottoms (pop punk?? Big chance you already know em)

mccafferty (definitely recommend if you like the front bottoms. Defunct)

bay faction/dba James (great emo/pop punk/alt band turned solo project)

porches (alt pop? Dream pop? Kind of. He’s super unique!)

daisy the great (two gals making alt/indie pop I guess)

carolesdaughter (emo pop w the prettiest voice)

Bastille (eh eh oh eh oh known for pompeii but they’re an incredible band)

samia, Phoebe Bridgers, and Tommy lefroy (sadgirl music)

runnner (alt indie, chill, kinda sadboy)

ericdoa, glaive, aldn, and guardin (SoundCloud/emo/rap/pop? lol)

Wednesday Campanella (really fun jpop outfit)

Tyler Childers and Zach Bryan (contemporary bluegrass)

Waxahatchee (and her new project plains) (folk country I guess)

Field medic (indie emo folk)

Triple one (Aussie rap group lol kinda grungey)

I’ll stop here lol I could totally keep going. if anyone actually wants a good rec based on what you’re into, you could totally dm me

[rayniiidaze]

i’m gonna put yall onto some of the music my friends make (:

now here’s some other artists that i enjoy

<3

[engineering-my-mastermind]

Lemme Be Anne Frank With You (poem)

Lemme be Anne Frank with you

I said lemme be Anne Frank with you.

No really lemme be Anne Frank with you.

But for real though in such a weird future

Where people have faught for the betterment of a people?

Lemme be Anne Frank with you.

Put down by a nearby people too? Lemme be Anne Frank with you.

Been about enough, that you feel you've had to go through? Yeah,

Lemme be Anne Frank with you.

Let Me, be Anne Frank, with you.

To remember a people you think about just one.

To put someone down you don't need a gun.

Two memories of a douchebag are stronger than one.

Whatever you go through just try 'n' have fun.    

I don't need to smile when I have to bloody see you,

Got shit on my mind that proper don't feel true,

Got no reason to bother if I know you won't come through,

But got time for the fam, yeh, I know you do too.

In a world where we are all co-creators,

I suggest to that you would toss your governers,

Try to achieve something better, without falling short.

Then maybe when you sort yourself, aim for togetherness.

Make something out of nothin', accept nothin' less.

And when you get this, it'll be nothing but a lifetime of bliss.

Lemme try to explain with my words, though you call them lyrics.

I don't know, I too think I'm pretty shit.

But the prettiest of shit can fertilise a garden,

And the flowers that grow from it you'll end up guardin',

'Cause the plants and the trees give you paper for writin'...

And so I decided to write...

I can picture myself making the old look like fools,

And making the new order look so damned tall,

All in disguise, with respect, to the people looking down,

Who only see it as embezzlement of their so-called crown.

'Cause in a perfect world not one but all'd be kings.

Or sat in the dark together wanting for the same damn things.

Now I'm seein' a select few who put down in writings,

That they achieved it all and had time for rich boy tings.

What the fuck are they wearing; these suiters and booters,

Who seem so tired when everything appears in their favor?

Dreamin' of smiles of people who get what they're after,

But we can be as one, with noone the faster.

And no beautiful fucker lacking...

Leave no man behind. Yeah?

No chewing the rind.

Make the most of your time.

Leave no man behind.

No woman left behind.

Stop dancing with people who don't help your mind.

Take the reins and deliver 'em to somewhere more kind.

Watch 'em unfurl in ways sublime.

No woman left behind.

I guess I'm just some fucker who's talkin' 'bout me

But no other fucker got time to talk about me.

I see empty faces comin' towards me down every street,

Everybody I see and meet, other than those I can't reach.

When you pool a people as one it's hard to single any out

Unless something bad happens, then everyone starts to shout.

You swim upstream feelin' like some lonely salmon or trout

Knowing you rarely pull through unless someone high's fuckin' about.

Like walkin' down a Hall where you can't see the end,

Some motherfuckers out there just in need of a friend.

You can push, you won't break, but there's no need to bend,

Step through to change your vibe and you'll get what you send.

What you need to hear the most, it aint always true

And it's that there's one fucker out there who will not give up on you.

And the weirdest thing about this thinkin' I'm a hot lyricist,

Is that the fucker pullin' you out aint me it's you.

Decide it's you that leaves no beautiful fucker lacking...

Leave not this man behind.

No chewing on the rind.

Make the most of your time.

Leave no man behind.

No woman left behind.

Leave not unclear the ways of delving your mind.

There's plenty of others out there waiting for you to find.

Join the few who unfurling into sublime.

No woman left behind.

So this is one more thing I write while shittin'...

Myself while in front of the computer somehow anti-wishin'...

My shelf is empty of all but people in one place sittin'...

Delve'n into something so stale it could be a dead kitten...

Twelve years I've known what it feels to be smitten.

So why ask to be dragged, to drunk and shagged,

Lifted up to the heights, from "maybe I'll blag".

I got this from a scream, juggling shared thoughts.

Layering what's on my screen with summer's days in shorts.

So if you're that fucker who finds themselves slacking

Maybe it's time you induldge in some blackening.

Learn to thrive in the hive, without some kind of crap ting

That you can't vibe with, telling you that you're anything but THE king.

You've got on your back some warm fucking clothing

Got a meal in your belly so why are you loathing

There's another just like you fuckin' smilin' and joking

So stand up on your feet and together keep smilin'..

Decide for yourself: I will not leave my beautiful self lacking...

Leave not one man behind.

No chewing on the rind.

Make the most of your time.

Leave no man behind.

Leave no woman behind.

Be sure that you are the master of your mother flippin' mind.

Recognise no cuss and rememeber to smile feels kind.

Watch yourself unfurl into the sublime.

No woman left behind.

So in a world where we lose some, smile for those we don't.

In a world where some shoot guns, remember it's far from the front.

In a world where we forget fun, don't stop when you hear the toms.

In this world with our shining sun, remember to dance to where you're going from where you're from...

No matter where you're from, lift up those around you.

With a grin on that chin you've a smile that'll shine through.

Got nothin' wrong with anything and when people ask you're gonna prove...

That a smile in the heart is the one that you hear in every groove.

So when the 'tar strums loud and you hear him growl,

Remember that's the vibe he had while he was singin' proud.

Got an epic self persona infront of every crowd.

Or to you in your room, soon laughin' without sound.

So push up that smile hook it up like a bra,

If it helps to sink it then do so with a laugh.

Bring the waves on in a panic that you're going so far.

And keep it forever wherever you are.

You've chosen for yourself not to find yourself lacking...

Nah, fuck it... 

You've chosen for yourself to find yourself fucking spectacular,

And I want you to stay that way.

You've left not your man behind.

Now you're not chewing on the rind.

Doing whatever making the most of your time.

Leaving no man behind.

Leave no woman behind.

She's got your vibe and together you'll shine.

Do worthwhile for one another 'cause you've both got time.

Find togetherness now that you're in the sublime.

Leave no woman behind.

So now you've found yourself, filled the space with smiles on every shelf.

You'll stop , nah, stop what? You got this brah, you need noone else.

You carry with you everywhere you go the vibe of some christmas elf.

Delivering gifts to anywhere you've missed like some happy ass dog or some shit,

I dunno...

But you can't do nothin' but yelp. Joyfully.

So dip your petals in the sea, dance with a stranger, maybe wish it was me.

But I am inside of you, my words flowing without, 

My being entwined with words guiding where, no longer a need to shout, you know you want to be.

And suddenly you are outside of you, your thoughts almost bearing a pout.

You've got the moment you wanted and you're pushing on through to more.

Questions seem undaunted and youre becoming gosh darned sure.

Your ability to mindscape is unguided and you're off heading away from the shore.

Heading your ship away from what you knew before.

Bringing you ahead are beings of an angelic nature.

Lifting your ego like spirit was writing it on paper.

Your being becomes something more than anything possible to disgrace her.

And of course, it's here to stay, 'cause you're no longer a race runner.

You've shon through and will blast your way to beyond the spectacular.

And you're gonna stay that way.

Your being will never be a man behind.

You'll never have to chew on the rind.

Doing whatever you see as best with your time.

Leaving nothing but the old man behind.

Leave no woman behind.

She's reflecting your goodness and her bites are toothless.

Your connections'll spread through the pages and soon become seemless.

Rejoice in your entry and foothold in the sublime.

Leave no woman behind.

And remember when I wrote this I had some fucking demons,

Vampires, feastin', tryna get my feelings,

Nothing held me back and I kept on believing,

Moving forward, bereathing, concentrating on my own sins,

Looking up, never down, always ignoring the frown,

Putting myself on a pedestal without noone around.

And I mean that, I was lonesome, but at least I still felt wholesome.

Nothing pushing me back from where I had to g - and furthersome.

Forever tryna make something out of myself

Without a need of a grotto or santa's fuckin' help.

I pushed down every second and kept those bastards back,

Knowing I can stand for more than whispers through the cracks.

So if you're talking about war be it emotional or else,

Psychological shit always dusty on your shelf,

Remember that we've won two wars, we did it all ourselves,

And without no bitter feelings or next-generational cells,

We are still the same one people, always striving, reading Braile,

From an emotional wavelength inside the shadows of those frail,

To be a bigger person, that's why great grand daddy fell,

And what he had to do, well mentally I'm doin' it as well.

And speaking of warfare...

I'll remember that first one with football in the snow,

Looking back at eachother like "You're my fuckin' bros".

Brother from another mother that's how the saying goes.

And I'll let you finish this verse, you do not need to flow.

No man left behind.

[sxrimz]

MY DEPRESSION isn’t your aesthetic it’s not cute it’s not quirky my depression is me not showering for days barely eating and not sleeping because i can barely get out of my bed without killing myself.

MY BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER isn’t ur average stalker girlfriend that cares so much no it’s me wanting to end it all from every single small thing it’s me not being able to love or even remotely like myself without the idea of someone else needing me it’s me randomly exploding on everyone i love because one thing went wrong its random breakdowns.

MY ABANDONMENT ISSUES is not me being clingy to you it’s me becoming a living parasite and you my host without you i’ll literally fucking die if you leave me i base my whole life around you and a singular thought of you leaving makes me physically sick.

MY ANXIETY isn’t me being a little scared or nervous it’s my chest hurting to the point that if i don’t take a hot shower and let my skin burn i’ll feel like i’m having a heart attack it’s my heart randomly racing it’s me overthinking any and every possible situation.

I’m so tired of it being normal or not a big deal because it literally is people go “well that’s just how she is” that’s not how i am i need help and i cannot control myself it’s gotten so bad that i actually ask for help now and it seems as if no one can understand i am truly alone i just wish someone would SAVE ME ~ written by me Sxrimz

[rainbepourin]

Get to know me tag ✨💜💜

Thank you for tagging me my cute @palpalopaloma i loved doing this! It was so fun!!

I loved reading your answers too ^^

I'll tag @starlightindeepestnight @hey-itsmina @svgahigh @namjinlovebot @poweredbycreativityandcake @mean-sugar

Questions under the cut to make the post shorter

1. when is your birthday?

May 22nd 1993

2. what is your favorite color?

Black and beige.

3. what is your lucky number?

2

4. how tall are you?

about 1.75 m 

5. how many pairs of shoes do you own?

no idea... about 10 probably

6. favorite song?

depends on the genre... wheel of time - blind guardin is a favourite. the jeweller’s hands - arctic monkeys is another favourite. Tomorrow - bts another favourite.

7. favorite movie?

LOTR , V for vendetta, Interstellar

8. what would be your ideal partner?

Someone i respect that loves me a lot. 

9. do you want children?

Yeah, actually. (i’ve even thought up names xD)

10. have you gotten in trouble with the law?

No

11. what color socks are you wearing?

Black with a red rose on each one.

12. bath or shower?

Shower.

13. favorite kind of music?

it keeps changing. i’ve liked music in all genres.

14. how many pillows do you sleep on?

2

15. what position to you sleep in?

On my right side.

16. what don't you like when you're sleeping?

Light and noise. Has to be completely dark and mostly silent.

17. what do you eat for breakfast?

I don’t eat breakfast. i eat when i get home from work (~18:30-19:00) . Sometimes on the weekends i might have a pastry like a croissant or something.

18. have you ever tried archery?

Nope.

19. what are your favorite fruits?

Oranges, strawberries, pineapples.

20. favorite swear word?

μαλακιστηρι.

21. do you have any scars?

yeah... i have one on the side of my face cos the doctor that did my mom’s c-section cut my head too by accident xD

22. are you a good liar?

I don’t know. probably.

23. what is your personality type?

Don’t know. Lazy, avoidant and bitchy.

24. what is your favorite type of girl?

i relate most to women who don’t feel the need to come across as perfect sweet princesses all the time. women who will show their anger and their fear etc.

25. right or left handed?

Right.

26. favorite food?

my mom’s chicken soup.

27. are you clean or messy?

Clean but lazy.

28. favorite foreign food?

i haven’t had much foreign food. whenever we order asian food, i always get kappa maki. does that count? i haven’t tried anything else :(

29. how long does it take you to get ready?

If i’ve already decided what i’m gonna wear, i’m good in ten minutes. if i have to decide what to wear, i need an hour (because i check everything in the mirror and everything makes me look bad and i spiral into a crying fat shaming mess)

30. most used phrase?

καλα να ειμαστε.

31. are you a good singer?

i DO suck.

32. do you sing to yourself?

Literally every chance i get. i love singing. not one day goes by that i don’t spend a full hour at minimum just singing.

33. biggest fear?

If i talk about it, i will freak myself out.

34. do you like short or long hair?

Long.

35. are you into gossip?

I don’t do it myself, but i do love when other people bring the gossip TO me.

36. extrovert or introvert?

Introvert.

37. favorite school subject?

Geometry, algebra and biology.

38. what makes you nervous?

things that are, things that were and things that have not yet come to pass.

20. who was ur first real crush?

i had a crush on Johnny Depp before i even knew what a crush was supposed to be. i was a tiny baby and my parents were watching Sleepy Hollow and all i knew was that i wanted to keep looking at that one face. 

Fun fact, i then forgot about it and watched POTC as a teenager and got a crush on Johnny Depp AGAIN without having any idea who he was. so I went through his filmography because i liked him as jack sparrow and i stumbled on Sleepy Hollow and i remembered him! i just. that was A Moment for me.

40. how many piercings do you have?

8, all on my ears.

41. how fast can you run?

Bold of you to assume i can run.

42. what makes you angry?

i agree with what @palpalopaloma  said so i’ll leave it at that : “When people talk over me or they don't allow me to express myself, or when they assume things about me”

43. do you like your own name?

Not at all.

44. what are your weaknesses?

I’m lazy, stupid, unreliable.

45. what are your strengths?

I try to be fair.

46. what color is your bed spread?

Grey.

47. what color is your room?

White but there’s posters and jigsaw puzzles and drawings everywhere so you can barely see it.

[hdawg1995]

copy and paste of my 24+ hours of no sleep cat girl/boy rant.

hey guys i got a dnd 3.5 horror(?) fact i just discovered and i haven't slept in 24+ hours so i'm trying to tire myself out so heres the deal: cat girls/boys are real in DnD and are already there in the monster manual.

in this essay i will detail how one would go about explaining their cat girl/boy in dnd 3.5 in a would/game where you only have access to player's handbook and monster manual.

the rules for what a teifling is are very straight forward yet vague: a fiend (later described as any evil outsider) couples with a non fiend and either produces a half fiend or a teifling.

in the monster manual you have a whole section dedicated to the obvious fiends (evil outsiders) in the form of evils and demons. further more the teifling description does list some basic traits before saying that no two are alike. this suggests that the basic traits they list are that- the basics.[10:44 PM]this implies a more detailed or even advanced image of the teifling.[10:45 PM]planetouched as a whole are described as being human but not- they have a touch of their outsider heritage within them. demons and devils have horns but not all of them have these traits.

sticking with our basic demon/devil there is one of my favorite fiends- the hellcat.

it is a lion like (or other big cat really) devil that can't speak but understands most languages. you can only see them at night or in the dark because their fur basicly makes them invisibly naturally (not magically) in direct light.[10:47 PM]so its a little akward but your teifling could very easily have cat ears, cat tail, or even a mane as their identifier for being part fiend.

HOWEVER! THERe is a much less awkward option in the form of the rakashasa[10:52 PM]a tiger person with messed up hands, these outsiders are known for their love of wealth and finer things in life such as every luxury imaginable. In 5e (from what i heard) this would include concubines and stuff but we're talking 3.5 however its probably not too hard to imagine a 3.5 raksahasa king or what ever having a few of those around. but the kicker as to how and why your edge lord rouge teifling could be a cat boy/girl is the fact that raksashasa have a change shape ability that specifically allows them to change into any humanoid.

a rich noble seeking an heir to his luxuries disguised as a elf or a human could be very common in a dnd setting.

"but [Matilda], " you say "Raksashasasa are already cat boys/girls because they are a playable race!" this is true! and its a pretty good choice for narrative, role play, and even hardcore choices, what with the shape change, dark vision, 40ft movement, bonuses (and no negatives) to all 6 ability scores, and +9 natural armor and all.

however they have a character adjustment of +7 and a favored class of sorcerer.

anyone playing a full blown rakshashsa would not level beyond first until the entire party is level 8

AND NOW! BEFORE I END THIS TED TALK- the asimar, the teifling's counter part, is equally vague yet straight forward with it's description and requirements! all you need is a good outsider to couple with a non outsider!

in enters two contenders to challenge the edge lord teifling cat girls/boys: The asimar good boys. the asimar CAT and DOG boy/girls!

THats right folks, due to the basic descriptions and general idea that a planetouch has a spark or a bit of essence from their outsider lineage not only can you have cat boy/girl teiflings but you can have cat boy/girl asimars AND dog girls/boys!

THe first is the leonal, a guardinal with a lion head and claws. although your cat boy/girl won't get a tail out of this lineage, just like the hellcat you could describe their hair as that of being a mane![11:04 PM]and now... how do we get a dog you ask?

WHY THE HOUND ARCHON OF CORSE!

the hound archon is similar to a guardinal in that it is a humanoid with a animalistic head but it has the ability to turn into a dog (which is not relevant here).

IN SUMMARY: cat boy/girl teiflings and asimars exist, they are just locked behind creativity and character descriptions.

since the asimar nor teifling's racial traits reflect their appearance (a teifling with horns doesn't gain a gore attack) there is nothing stopping you other than your own imagination to take a teifling and say they have whickers, pointed ears, and are covered in short fur.

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[falling-pages]

The hosts as lyrics (pt 2)

Song: “Anxious” by Guardin **contains profanity** **Send me song requests and headcanons or one shots to write!** **Might do a post on this song with just Hikaru or Kaoru because it really fits both of them in different ways**

Tamaki: Curled up with your head on my chest/ Holding you’s got me feeling the best

Kyoya: I’m afraid of myself sometimes/ Can’t think when my brain’s on overdrive

Hikaru: Believe me when I say/ That this love is the only f**king reason that I’m standing on my two feet today

Kaoru: I think that I’m just a mess/ You see all that I possess

Honey: Lie in my bed while I soak up the glory

Takashi: I never know what to say/ Start it like it’s a new day/ I’ll never give up on you/ Never give up on me too

[kaazzzyy]

Kengan Ashura fanfiction : chapter 1

Hello ! Here’s a Kengan Ashura FanFiction I had the idea of ! Feel free to tell me what you think about it and if you notice mistakes (english isn’t my 1st language so there must be some grammar mistakes here) Enjoy !

The Inside. A area of 47.88 square kilometers where no rules exists. Where living is a constant survival. Where it's commun to fight, steal and kill in order to live another day.

Drugs, violence and prostitution are the main vices that make this already harmful environment an even darker place.

And it's among all these wicked things that a little girl was born. The more she is growing, the more she realises how infortunate she was to be given birth in The Inside.

Most 11 years old kids are innocent, cheerful and unaware of all the dangers life holds. But she isn't most kids. She is aware that she can be killed at any moment. She knows very well what hunger and pain are.

And there she sits, gnawed by fear and her weakness, watching her "mother" talking to an umpteenth client of her. Her little back is leaning against a wall as she watches the older woman insistently, hoping she will come back next to her as soon as possible.

It was rather funny to see how the little girl's scared expression was far from matching her mother's cheerful one. It was like they weren't living in the same place, at the same moment.

Her black eyes scanned the area from right to left, again and again, searching for any danger that could harm her. She is currently in one of the main street of the district. The people are flowing through the street like water would in a river. They never stop, just like a waterstream.

Obviously seeing that many people had made her even more panicked.

Fortunately for the little girl, her mother finally made for her a sign to come. She stood up as fast as she could, as a small smile appeared to her face. Her little body made his way through people, while her weak legs tried to run as fast as possible.

"Finally, here she is.", said a low-pitched voice she recognized as a male's.

"Yeah, she is the one I told you about.", answered her "mother" as she patted the little girl's head, "She won't cause you any problems, don't worry. She is a nice kid."

Her mother looked at her straight in the eyes. The look she gave her made the girl uncomfortable. She knew that look... She knew it very well.

She is going to harm me again.

"So, how much time will you need ?"

Her mother's look returned to the male next to her. He grinned immediatly to the question.

"It won't be long."

What are they talking about ? Is mother going to leave me to him ?

Suddenly, the man took out some bills from his pocket and handed it to the woman.

"It will do.", she said as she counted the money with a wicked smile.

"M-mommy..."

The little girl tried to speak but her mother avoided her from finishing her sentence.

"Go with this man, now. And be nice."

This frightening look again. I-I'm scared...

A grip was suddenly felt on her arm.

"Let's go, kid."

The little girl couldn't speak any word. Her mouth was like frozen. She instinctly moved her pleading eyes straight to her mother's cold ones. She was looking at her like she didn't understand why she is scared, like there was no reason for her to be scared.

H-Help me... Mommy...

A force was dragging her away from her mother. She didn't even try to resist it. Despair was immobilizing her body. Her eyes were open-wide as some silent tears started to form up.

Sometime passed. But she didn't know how much, though. It was like she just woke up from a bad dream. A very bad dream.

Where am I ?

She examined her surroundings with hazy eyes. She was sitting on a dirty matress. However the rest of the room really looked good for a place like The Inside. A voice suddenly cut out the girl from her investigation.

"Are you feeling ill, kid ?"

That voice. It was the male's one. She recognized it.

She immediatly turned her head to the sound's direction. And then, her pupils merely popped up from her eyes.

Here was standing the male, a grin on his face, as he was only wearring his underwear on.

It can be...

"Don't worry, 'cause I'll make you feel good."

It can't be.

The man started to approach her, that wicked grin still on his face. Her legs felt so weak. She could only tried to run away from him from her sitting position, but he was faster and a wall very soon blocked her escape.

Tears started to flow quicker than never...

IT CAN'T BE !

... as the wicked grin was growing stronger and stronger.

The same grip from earlier caught her arm again, but way harder this time. The girl moved her arms arnachically in a way to defend herself. Surprisingly to both of them, the man released her from his hold and the kid fell to his feet.

"What the fuck is this strenght you got ?!", yelled the man, his wicked grin now turning intro a angry frown.

The little girl just stood here, mouth agape as she watched her hands, then the man. Then a realisation came to her.

I can beat him. I can go away !

She tried to stand up but the man was faster and kicked her in the face to make her lost her balance and fell to the floor.

A trail of blood was flowing from her forehead to her chin. Child or not, he had hit her with all he got.

But the pain didnt make her flinch. Her determination and survival instinct were guiding her body at that moment.

The man went for her leg this time. She just moved her leg with all her force like she did earlier with her arms, and the same result happened but, this time, the man nearly lost his balance from the strenght of the hit. The little girl noticed this and stood up as fast as she could.

She then went to attack her opponent back.

She jumped on him with all her strenght and made him fell to the floor, with her in top of him. She then punched him several times. She aimed for his head. The man tried to protect himself by guarding his head but the impact of the hits was way too strong. He was taking too much damage even when guardin up.

What the fuck is wrong with that kid ?! This strenght is unbelievable ! I have to attack instead of defending myself for nothing !

The man took the first opportunity to counter the girl. She was projected back a bit, just enough for her to let go of the man. He then went to her and started to kick her body laying on the floor.

"LEARN YOUR PLACE, YOU FUCKIN' SLUT !"

He has kicked her until her body went limp, which he took as a sign of her being inconscious.

"You got me well for a kid. Am I getting weaker ?", sighed the man as he turned his back to the girl's body.

What a mistake.

Seconds later his body was send flying to the nearby wall. The impact was so strong it made his body pass through it and land in the street.

The girl was breathing hardly and barely standing up. Dust was flying in all the room now but she still could see the people passing by suddenly stopping in their tracks. They have seen the body.

I need to go away from here before people come to see what happened !

She tried to move but her body was too weak from all the hits she took.

I'm feeling like i'm going to faint at any moment... Besides, this sensation... It's like my skin is burning..

"Look ! Someone fought here !", started a voice.

- "I can't see a thing ! There is a dust cloud in here !", added another one.

I'm done. I can't even move anymore...

The little girl's body started to fell to the floor but a pair of strong arms prevented her from reaching it. However, she couldn't see her savior's face because of her blurry vision, and the dusty atmosphere wasn't helping at all.

The only thing she could catch sight of was a smile.

A very bright and warm smile.

[hungergames-fanfic]

The Reapings

Word Count: 2606

Today is reaping day. A boy and a girl will be chosen at the Plaza, in front of all of Panem, and be put to fight for their lives in an arena. The winner will bring riches and fame back home, or so that’s what president Snow says on the propaganda commercials. District 10 hasn’t had a victor in over a decade.

For the 4th Annual Hunger Games, daddy’s uncle Amos was chosen as a tribute, cause people still weren’t used to the idea of the games there were riots on the street. A lot people died in my family leaving only momma Bilmin and daddy alive, daddy was a newborn. My best friend Efrain’s daddy, who was just a little boy himself got shot but survived, a story Efrain loves to tell. While all of this happened, the government still took uncle Amos, who was sixteen at the time. Being all alone, mourning the death of her husband and family, momma Bilmin was forced to watch uncle Amos survive the games. He killed the most tributes, a goal some careers claim to wanna surpass, or so Efrain says they say, and came back home as that year’s victor.

With his wealth, uncle Amos bought miles of land and divided it into two with a road seven miles long making it a detour from Bloques, where the poor live, where momma Bilmin and daddy are from, to Littleburg, where the heart of District 10 sits. Here live the rich, where momma and her family is from, shopping centers, hospitals, the Mayoral building and more are located. Uncle Amos also purchased cattle, daddy says back then they only had two of every animal. Cows, goats, chickens, horses, pigs and even sheep, but we don’t have sheep no more. He also built momma Bilmin a pretty house on the land and then years later, before I was born, he killed himself.

No one talks about uncle Amos or watches the games at our house cause it makes momma Bilmin cry a lot. So much so that last night I could hear her from my room, so I spent the night with her. She hugged me until we fell asleep. This morning I woke up to the smell of a thousand types of food.

Cause momma Bilmin knows what it’s like to go to bed hungry, with our money, she cooks big pots of food and feeds those who flock to us. Usually, on the mornings she’ll hand out her famous honey walnut bread to those who walk past our road, but on reaping day, she cooks a grand meal. This year she’s baked bread and a cinnamon version of it, two types of rice, an orange one with tomato and basil that’s a little spicy and a yellow one, which is my favotire cause it has eggs, vegetables and beef, but I’m not eating meat no more. Not after I seen where it comes from. Momma Bilmin also cooked a big pot of beans with bacon and sausage a long with another pot of mashed potatoes and cheese. Enough to feed up to a thousand people or more if portioned correctly.

Cause momma is Mayor Sotto’s secretary, she’s all about appearance. Today she wears an elegant dark blue pantsuit. It makes her look so pretty daddy wont stop hugging and kissing her. She tells him to stop with a smile on her face and makes him wear a tanned suit, threatning with “you ain’t gettin’ any honey” if he wears his cowboy hat. Daddy takes it off so fast it makes me laugh. I watch them from the mirror, where I stand and stare at myself while momma does my hair.

Momma’s made me wear a pink dress with itchy white socks and shiny white shoes I only use when I wear dresses like this. She makes a braid from the top of my head to the back, turning it into a low pony tail and adds a big bow to it. I hate the way I look. Can’t even go out to play when I’m dressed like this. I stare at my reflection wishing I could dress myself. I wonder what i’d chose if I were allowed. Then again, i’m only ten years old and can’t take a bath without supervision.

“Oh, my Dora you look so precious”, momma says kissing my cheeks. I don’t think I look like her, her skin is lighter than mines, but I do have curly hair. The curls aren’t as coily as hers though, just a little thicker in shape. I don’t look like daddy or momma Bilmin either, daddy is too dark skinned and his hair is straight, he looks like momma Bilmin but her skin is as brown as mines. Her hair is just as straight as his, too.

“Miss Esperanza”, Vano, Efrain’s cousin, knocks on the door frame. He clears his throat and takes off his hat showing off the waves on his hair. Unlike most days, him and Eddy, Efrain’s older brother, are dressed presentable and clean, that’s cause they’re both still eligible to be a part of the reapings. “We ready to go”, he says.

The reapings don’t start until one in the afternoon, but cause momma needs to be at work early, momma Bilmin will be feeding people and the boys have to sign up, we’re leaving early. Daddy’s gonna stay behind though, says last year someone stole a couple of chickens while we was in Littleburg.

The ride to the Plaza is boring and takes a lot longer than usual. The roads and highways are packed with new and old vehicles, run down wagons that look like they gon lose a wheel on a bump and horses carrying up to three people. Everyone wants to get there before noon since the peacekeepers are a lot more abundant and meaner on this day. Sometimes they break into homes in search for those that haven’t left yet and beat them out on the streets as a warning for others to hurry up. At one point, on the road we see a man getting frisked while his wife screams at peacekeepers tryna hold her back. This day is stressful as it is, peacekeepers always make things worse.

When we arrive to the Plaza, momma gives me a kiss on the cheek before leaving. She always asks if I wanna go inside the Mayoral Building with her cause there’s air conditioning but I like to stay with momma Bilmin, she doesn’t tell me to shush and sit every five seconds.

Left with just her while the boys go and sign up, I make sure to keep momma Bilmin safe. There’s always somebody ungreatful. Next to our wagon, people form a long line on the sidewalk waiting to be handed a plate of food, I help hand forks.

“Ain’t that some shit, Bilmin!”, an old man stands a few feet away eating some of the bread she’s made. “The youngin’ look just like’em”, he laughs. Momma Bilmin doesn’t look at him, she clears her throat and nods. I’ve seen this look on her before, she wants to cry. Mad at him, I scream “go away!”, he just laughs. “Same attitude too!”, he blurts outs in a laugh that turns into a gross cough.

“Come on, John, move along”, another old man says. A plate in one hand, pulling on the gross old man’s shirt with the other.

“Hey, I lost my Isabella to the games too, we’ve all lost family. You ain’t seen us cryin’ when they names be mentioned. Besides, all I said was the little girl look like Amos”, he goes on but the other man pulls him away. Too late, though. The damage has already been done and momma Bilmin has tears rolling down her face. Is that why momma Bilmin cries when she looks at me? Cause I look like her baby brother?

“When I get bigger I’m gonna beat him up”, I tell her whilst giving her a tight hug. I hate it when she cries. It’s not fair cause she doesn’t deserve to be sad.

She smiles at me, gives me a kiss on the forehead and stares for a little too long before her upper lip starts to quiver and more tears roll down her face. This happens a lot around this time, too. It just takes one look and I make her cry. I wish I could change my face. “Please don’t cry momma, I’m sorry”, I apologize wishing I could stop making her so sad. She rubs my back, wipes her tears and keeps on feeding everyone.

People come and go, they wish us blessings, some cry with thanks and others give us little gifts like handmade jewelry, pretty clothes or micellaneous items. None get my attention like this one though, it forms a big smile on my face the second I spot it. Like a trade, a woman hands momma Bilmin a black, fluffy puppy. “Issa boy, gon grow real big, Geller keepin’ the momma and she real good at guardin’ the house”, she informs. “Polomir need himself a guard dog, been hearin’ ’bout a lot of coyote attacks lately. If anythin’ it’ll eat it and not y’all’s cattle”, she chuckles. Momma Bilmin laughs and denies the pup but the lady wont take it back. She giggles when I beg to please keep it. “Listen to the baby, Bilmin, don’t deny me my gift to you”, “oh, alright, fine. Just don’t let’em near the pots of food”, momma Bilmin snaps a me.

By noon, through intercoms placed in every corner, poles, buildings and trees, we hear Mayor Sotto ask those eligible for the reapings that they have an hour to sign up. This makes a lot of teenagers scatter towards the Plaza, only a block away from where we’re stationed.

In the distance, on my skittish horse, Milk, I spot daddy galloping through the crowded road tryna get to us. Excited to show him the puppy, I hold it in the air and jump.

“Hey Isa!”, I hear an old familiar voice, “that your dog?”, Efrain asks. Seeing him walk towards me with his family makes me so happy I almost fall off the wagon but Jenae, his aunt gently pushes me back. “Careful, Isadora”, she warns helping Efrain and Abie up here with me. Compared to the last time I saw him, pale and near death, skinny and weak, he looks a lot better. “Been back outside playin’ with everyone on the block, Wendy was askin’ ‘bout you and Arielle. Says y’all ain’t go to school yesterday”, he says almost like he’s asking why. I wave my hand in the air, showing off my now dirty yellow cast, I don’t give him the same “it hurts” lie I give momma. I don’t wanna lie to him, so I let him assume on his own. Besides, I don’t wanna tell him about Ari and me not being friends no more. Instead I show him my new puppy, who I’ve named Bean cause he ate all the beans that spilled out the bean pot.

The name makes Efrain laugh. “I’d name him Edwin cause that boy’s hair just as shaggy”, he says. This makes me laugh cause it’s true.

Just like me, Efrain is dressed his very best. Although his clothes are too big for him and practically sun bleached, comapred to the rest of his hand-me-downs, he looks sharp. His curly hair has been bathed in oil making it look wet and shinny, his big gray buttoned long sleeve has been tucked into his brown pants held by red suspenders. His cousin Abie, who’s a year younger than us, wears a gray buttoned up long sleeve too, on her waist she wears a red belt that matches Efrain’s suspenders. Her curls, a lot finer than his, are also oily and shinny in the sun, slicked back with her baby hairs forming waves on her forehead. “Momma thought it be cute if we dressed the same”, Efrain says.

“I look cute”, she snaps, “you look like you need more sun”, she rolls her eyes. Her momma pinches her shoulder. Efrain chuckles.

Next to the wagon, on the street, Efrain’s daddy and momma, who came in her wheelchair cause people gotta be literally dying for them to be allowed to stay home, linger whilst talking to daddy who looks very uncomfortable. While her husband Otto helps momma Bilmin hand out plates of food, Jenae laughs and constantly puts her hand on daddy’s arm.

On top of the Mayoral Building sits a large television screen, it turns on to show a blue image. It slightly rocks back and forth but doesn’t fall. In patterns, all the other televisions around the area start to turn on too. The one above a one-floor shop turns on to show the same blue, another standing on a pole at the corner of the street turns on to show blurry images that turn clear. On the side of a big, wide complex building, a holographic image shows the same, from this one, I watch. On it, Mayor Sotto waddles up to the microphone. He’s short, balding and wears a suit too big for his own good. Behind him stands momma looking ever so pretty. Next to her is Tate Langdon, our only victor. He wears a black suit jacket and jeans with a black cowboy hat that matches. Next to him stands Jai Ngyuen. He’s from the Capitol and wears an all white suit that makes him shine bright. His hair and eyebrows are just as white along with his make up. “Goddamn clown”, I overhear Otto say under his voice.

Clearing his voice, Mayor Sotto begins. He dictates the same story from every year, I recognize it cause its one we read in our history books at school. He explains how Panem came to be, mentions the dark days, uprisings against the Capitol, District 13’s obliteration and the start of the Annual Hunger Games. The camera zooms in on Tate, who the mayor mentions as one of our victors along with “and may he rest in power, Amos Wyetka”, he reminds us of uncle Amos like he does every year. Through the crowd blinded by the sun, the camera goes on and on as if showing off our thousands of possible tributes. Once the mayor is done talking, he wipes the sweat off his shinny bald head with a hankerchief and stands next to momma. I glare at daddy who has a smirk on his face while watching the screen.

“Happy Hunger Games!”, Jai’s shrill voice makes the microphone screech. “And may the odds be ever in your favor”, he shakes his head and raises his arms excitedly. Giggling, fixing his tie, he smiles wide showing his perfect teeth. People in the crowded streets look at each other, some shake their head, others murmur to one another. Daddy turns to look at Efrain’s dad and both chuckle nodding their heads.

On stage, Jai walks over to a glass ball containing the male names. Like every year, he plays shuffling the papers, taking a lot longer than he should. Raising his hand in the air to show the folded piece of paper, two more fly out and fall to the ground. He picks them up, dances with and spreads them in his hands, choosing the middle note. Excitedly he practically skips back to the mic and opens it. Clearing his throat dramatically, he calls out the name of this year’s male tribute.

“Eduardo Oxoro”, Efrian’s oldest brother.

[shewhowantsmouseears]

Shattered, Chapter 6

Notes: As always, huge thanks to my awesome editors Drucilla and Blueshifted.

This was my first time writing O'Hara, and am I not obligated to give him the most exaggerated accent possible?

Also, while it's frustrating that over the years Daisy's personality has been rewritten so many different times, it's also fantastic because I can make her a complete nutter without anyone batting an eyelash.

Summary: Minnie and Ratface arrive at the Golden Kingdom, where everything glitters for a price.

At times, Minnie would regret not grabbing at least a pair of shoes from Mother's house – or whatever her real name was – but the thought of going back to that prison kept her eyes forward. The chill in her chest stayed, and as Minnie and Ratface journeyed on, she could feel it grow stronger. Minnie didn't sleep often, wanting to cover as much ground as she could, but when she did, Ratface snuggled in close – not because he wanted to, he claimed. “If some big predator comes along, they'll surely eat you first. I'm just setting up an alarm system. Don't expect me to stay around at the first sign of trouble.”

But his barbs and criticisms came less and less as they left that mystical garden. Sometimes he'd ask about her home, and sometimes they traveled in silence. Minnie would often glance in his direction, wanting to ask one of many questions on her mind about what he knew, but when she met his eyes she lost the will. Perhaps he was waiting for her to ask... but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Whatever he knew about “Mother” and the Snow Queen couldn't be pleasant, and she felt she hadn't earned the right to open up old wounds. Maybe she never would.

It was early afternoon in their travels along endless green grass when they spotted something new off in the distance between two great hills. From far away, there was a glittering color that was very beautiful, and Minnie picked up the pace to see it closer. Between the hills were gigantic golden walls, and half a dozen plain-clothed soldiers standing guard. Unlike the frozen soldiers of the Snow Queen, these men and women were full of life, jabbering to one another, playfully shoving, one of them opting to take a nap standing up. The majority of them stood in front of a gigantic golden door, which contained a smaller door, which contained an even smaller door, on and on until there was a door about Minnie's height. Minnie couldn't tell if this was a way to confuse outsiders or a very odd choice in aesthetic.

“And here comes a problem,” Ratface said. “If we want to get to the Snow Queen, we must keep moving forward... but traversing those hills would take many days. The fastest way would be through the Golden Kingdom straight ahead. I've never been there myself, but I hear the princess is more off-kilter than a three-legged flamingo.”

Minnie couldn't make heads or tails of that insult so she ignored it. “I've never been to another place with lots of people in it before.” It was both exciting and nerve-wracking. “I hope it'll be all right.”

“Word of advice, pretty girl.” Ratface leaned in, still perched on her shoulder. “If they see you talking to me, they'll think you're crazy. Birds aren't supposed to talk the way I do, so you'll hear no more from me as long as we're in there.”

She fancied a chance. “You could tell me why you talk, and I could tell them.” He merely looked away, apparently deciding now would be the start of his silence. “I'm beginning to think you're more stubborn than Mickey.” Which was really saying something! She walked on to the large doors, and it wasn't long before the guards could see her. She stopped in place. “Excuse me-”

“Who goes there!” One of the taller guardsmen shouted, leaping forward, his bayonet at the ready. He then paused, adjusted his hat, adjusted his collar, and then resumed pointing his weapon at her. “Does that look better?”

“I didn't think it looked too bad before,” Minnie said, blinking at the weapon, curious as to why she posed any threat.

“Oh, why thank you-”

“Oh, for gosh sakes, Horace!” One of the guards-women snapped, shoving Horace with one arm, her hair bouncing off her back as she moved. “You don't thank the enemy! That's how they'll get you!”

“Don't you tell me what to do, Clarabelle!” Horace stood up straight, his finger jabbing her chest. “If I'm gunna die today, then I'm gunna die as a gentleman, I tell you what!”

Minnie didn't have to see Ratface to know how hard he was rolling his eyes. “I'm sorry, I think there's been some sort of... misunderstanding? I'm not here to hurt anyone.”

“Oooh, I just bet!” Clarabelle whipped around so fast that her long hair smacked Horace in the face. “Let me tell you something, missy! I've been guardin' the Golden Kingdom from the Snow Queen's soldiers for years, and I ain't about to be fooled by no trick! Sure, you may not look like them, sound like them, or act like them, but that doesn't mean you ain't one of them!”

Horace paused, then scratched his head. “Uh, actually, Clarabelle... kinda sounds like that means she really ain't one of them! All the years we been here, the Snow Queen's soldiers never changed their tactics.”

It suddenly struck Minnie what they were really saying, and her eyes widened in shock. “You... all of you actually fight the Snow Queen? You've been doing that all this time?”

“A'course we do!” Clarabelle said proudly, slapping a hand to her heart. “Been a proud family tradition for years! What right she got, thinkin' she can forbid love? None, I tell you, none! So we stand guard here and fight off her soldiers who try to take away our loved ones!”

“Ain't actually stopped 'em from doin' so,” Horace admitted with a shaky wave of his hand. “But with every defeat we learn a new lesson, I say. We'll never give up on people we love.” Then, with an amused grin, he gently nudged Clarabelle's arm with his own. “Ain't that right, Clarabelle?”

Clarabelle blushed with a shy smile of her own, though her teasing nudge-back was hard enough to send Horace stumbling backwards. “Aw, Horace! This ain't somethin' you say in front of the...” However, she stopped herself from calling Minnie the enemy again, as even she could tell the enemy wouldn't look so... stunned.

For a brief moment, Minnie couldn't see or hear anyone. She stared into space with this new thought – people had been fighting the Snow Queen? It had never just been defiant Mickey? How many other lands took up arms to defend love? Was it just Minnie's homeland that merely...gave up? Did they ever even try otherwise? The idea of having options was so revolutionary that Minnie didn't know what to do with it.

Horace glanced at Clarabelle, who glanced back at him.

“I'm thinkin' maybe we should ask the Chief what to do.”

“I'm thinkin' you might be right about that.”

Cow and horse stepped back to the doors, and knocked on several of them in a musical pattern. In response, the smallest door opened, and a portly dog of a man began to push his way out. His clothes were equally plain as his men, as if he was no better or worse than them, save for a few shiny badges atop his shoulder. “Atten... HUT!” he called out, and every solider stopped what they were doing to turn and salute. “'Tis another glorious day in our kingdom, and I see all is well! So, pray tell, what needs me help?”

Horace saluted himself and wound up smacking his own face in the process. “Sir, Chief, sir! Sir, we spotted this possible intruder on our border, sir!”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Clarabelle copied on the Chief's right side. “Sir, we sought your advice on how to handle this, sir!”

Ratface flicked Minnie's ear with his feather to bring her back to reality, and she shook her head hard, trying to remember everything. “Oh! I think they mean me, sir. Yes, sir?” She hesitated and then tried to copy their salute. “Sir, I would like to pass through your kingdom, if it's all right, sir.”

The Chief looked Minnie up and down without saying a word, his floppy cheeks swaying with him, the white in his hair showing shades of gray in the sunlight. When he was finished with his inspection, he placed one hand on Clarabelle's shoulder, and the other on Horace's. “You mean to tell me you thought this little girl was a danger to our entire kingdom?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” the duo chanted in unison.

The Chief sighed heavily, and then shoved the two together so that their foreheads smashed together. “Faith and begorrah, you daft fools! Lass doesn't even have on a pair of shoes! And you call yourselves guardians of our kingdom!”

“Sir, owwww, sir.”

“Sir, sorry, sir.”

The Chief muttered a few choice phrases to himself before approaching Minnie, a hand to his heart as he bowed. “Most sincere apologies, bonnie lass. I'm afraid my men are a bit on edge, can't even trust their own eyes. I'm Chief O'Hara, and if it's safe passage you want through our home, then you may have it.”

Relief ran through Minnie like a soft summer light, and she delicately began to step forward, her hands staying together. “Thank you ever so much, sir. My name is Minnie, and this is my friend Ratface.” Ratface huffed.

“Ah, a girl and her pet, what a good sight,” O'Hara mused, before taking a small biscuit out from one of his pockets. “Polly want a cracker, eh?”

It had been so long since Minnie had anything even remotely close to a laugh that when she abruptly snorted, she held her nose, confused as to what she just felt. The ghosts of giggles kept shaking inside her mouth, and it was the only thing keeping Ratface from biting off O'Hara's finger. “Well, all right, more for me, then.” The Chief popped the biscuit into his mouth and headed back to the doors. “Come along then, I'll be your guide.”

Minnie forced down the odd sensation, but just as she and O'Hara were about to pass through, Horace nervously rose his hand. “Sir, also, sir? Sir, if, well... if Donald shows up again... do we really have to put him through another test, sir?

“Sir, really, sir?” Clarabelle added with a look of sheer disdain. “Sir, we all know what's gunna happen, sir.”

“Now, now,” O'Hara wagged a reproachful finger at his subordinates, “We are a fair and honest group. So long as we need men, he may apply as many times as he wishes...” And then, he lowered his hand, mumbling to himself, “And as many times as our eardrums can stand it.” Pretending as if he said nothing, he straightened his back, and pushed open the door.

The Golden Kingdom certainly lived up to its name – absolutely everything was that color! The streets, the houses, even some of the food and smaller animals were colored in the same bright yellow. Thankfully it appeared the townsfolk had their options of colors when it came to dress, which preventing the entire scenery from being completely blinding. It was as yellow as Minnie's town as white – but that wasn't the difference that stayed with her. No, it was the people's faces – they weren't haggard and run-down, lost in exhaustion and weariness. They weren't all brimming with joy, but they were varied! Different! Emoting!

“Is the whole world like this?” Minnie asked softly, not really expecting an answer.

O'Hara raised an eyebrow at such an odd remark. “Oh, I'd say no place is ever exactly like any other. Be a rather dull world if that was the case, I think.” His eyes couldn't help but fall to her feet. “Lass... you may need to be on your way, but are you sure I can't get you a pair of shoes first? My wife, bless her heart, has way more than any woman needs.”

The offer was tempting, but the last person who attempted to clothe her had nearly turned her into a doll, so she was a tad resistant. “That's very kind of you, sir, but I really can't stay. I must get through here as quickly as possible.”

O'Hara frowned, displeased that he couldn't help, but he pushed it no further. “Very well, very well. If that be the case, then let us make haste. I can have you to the edge of the kingdom quite quickly... so long as we don't run into her.”

“Her?” Minnie asked, and she exchanged a questioning look at Ratface.

“~OOOOOOH~CHEEEEEIIIIIF~OOOOOOOHAAAAARAAAAAAAA~!”

O'Hara slapped a hand to his face and dragged it down slowly. “Speak of the devil.” In fact, it seemed everyone within a five mile radius was doing the exact same thing.

A carriage was riding up the yellow cobblestones, and naturally it too was almost garishly gold, with silver trimmings and lacy curtains on the side. The rider and his horse looked equally annoyed at the woman who continued to sing the Chief's name, along with interludes of “TRA LA LA LAAAA LA LA LAAAAA~!” Instead of riding in the carriage like a normal person, the singing lady was hanging off the doorway, arm and leg outstretched, ignoring or oblivious to the safety hazard she posed to herself. Her tight blue dress flapped wildly as the carriage rode on, navy ribbons tying up her fancy gloves and her fancy hair – golden ringlets that bounced off her cheeks. If she tilted any further, her bejeweled tiara would fall right off. She only stopped singing to give orders. “There he is, stop here, stop here!”

The rider and horse obeyed, and the rider popped out an earplug that wasn't up to the job. The lady hopped off the carriage door and walked on her tippy toes, where Minnie could see she was wearing dancing shoes with the same ribbons. “I have been looking all over for you, dear Chief! Where have you been?”

“At my post, my lady,” O'Hara replied after a respectful bow, fighting off the urge to pinch his temples. “As is my job.”

“No matter!” the woman decided with a flippant wave of her hand. “You're here now, so you can help me now! Spread the word – tonight, we shall be having another party at the castle, and everyone is to attend!”

Minnie nearly jumped at the sound of wide-spread groans all around, including from O'Hara. “Another one?! We just had one last night! We've been having them for weeks and weeks on end!”

“But we simply must have a party, Chief!” The woman was aghast at the idea of anything opposite, taking a step back. “Why, it's a special occasion!”

“What now?” The Chief asked, hands on his hips, leaning in. “We've had birthday parties for nearly everyone in the kingdom, a party for the opening of the dress store, a party for the good weather, we even had a party for Miss Clara repairing her wicker basket! What in the name of the angels could we possibly have left to celebrate?!”

The woman drew herself in, eyes darting all about, and she tugged anxiously at her gloves. “I, uh... well... there's... there must be, something special, happening somewhere...?”

“We can't afford to keep having these parties, my lady!” O'Hara insisted, though he at least tried to tone down his anger. “Please, think rationally! The money is going down the drain, and we can't afford to have our guards off duty when the Snow Queen could strike down at any time! You must think of your people... there is just nothing left to celebrate.”

The fancy-dressed woman continued to fidget, still trying to find an answer against all that logic. She bounced on her toes, beginning and ending sentences with “eh” “ah” “hm”, until she finally noticed Minnie – who felt like a mere audience member at the world's strangest play. “Oh? Who is this lovely girl?”

Minnie looked behind her until she realized that somehow she was the lovely girl. Chief O'Hara cleared his throat. “My lady... this one calls herself Minnie, along with her companion, Ratface. This here be our Golden Princess, Princess Daisy.”

While the last “royal” figure Minnie had met didn't seem one for etiquette, Minnie wanted to be fair to the person whose land she was traveling through, and so curtsied. “It is a pleasure to meet you, your royal highness.”

Daisy stared at Minnie, and she pulled out a thin blue fan from her sleeve, using it to point at Minnie's feet before fanning herself. “O'Hara. The girl doesn't have any shoes.”

Not wanting him to get in trouble, Minnie was quick to speak. “Oh, he offered, but I declined, your highness. You see, I really need to get through the kingdom as quickly as possible.”

Daisy propped the fan under her beak, an idea beginning to brew. “I haven't seen you around here before, and I pride myself on knowing everyone. You must be a newcomer... and we haven't had a traveler here in ages.” Her mouth split into a grin.

O'Hara jerked, hands outstretched. “My lady, don't you dare-”

“We MUST celebrate!” Daisy cheered, spinning in place. “Oh, yes, yes, yes! We will celebrate this dear girl's first day in the Golden Kingdom! It's a momentous occasion!”

Minnie looked around as if to make sure she was actually hearing this. While Ratface's taunts often seemed needlessly cruel, perhaps he had been a little too on the mark in this case. Ratface was in equal disbelief. “That's – that's really not necessary, there's nothing about me that's worth a party-”

“Nonsense, nonsense!” Daisy was suddenly invading Minnie's personal space, grabbing her hands and swaying them about. Ratface jumped off Minnie's shoulder and flew to the carriage to watch this strangeness unfold. “You are absolutely worth celebrating! We will have a grand and glorious time! This will be the day of Minnie!” She then pulled Minnie into a warm embrace, and waved off O'Hara. “Now, go, go, spread the word, all are invited!”

O'Hara inhaled as deeply as his lungs would allow before letting out the longest sight imaginable. “Yes, my lady...” Grumbles and moans echoed back and forth across the townsfolk.

“First things first,” Daisy then decided, giving Minnie a spin. “We must get you some shoes! I won't have you walk another step, you poor darling!” She then pointed her fan at the rider, who was tossing away his ear plugs. “Return to the castle and let everyone know about the party! Promptly at eight, of course, and everyone dressed to the nines! This is her first party here, and we must make it extra memorable!”

It was becoming clear to Minnie that she was having no say in this, so she may as well go along for the ride. However, Daisy did manage to bring up one thing of important note. “I've never been to a party before, anywhere.” She'd read about those wondrous things in books, but the books also said they were meant to make everyone happy – only Daisy seemed to like them.

“Never?” Daisy gasped, drawing Minnie even closer to her. “Never, ever, ever? Oh, then we must make this party ten times as special for you! But, again, first, shoes! To the cobbler!”

“How do I get there if I can't walk-” Today Minnie made another new noise in her mouth that she didn't recognize, a wiggled “Oooh?!” as Daisy triumphantly lifted Minnie into her arms and carried her as if she weighed no more than a sack of flour. Her eyes boggled, trying to find muscle in Daisy's dainty arms.

“No need to fret, darling dearest Minnie,” Daisy said as she began to walk, ever still tippy-toed. “All in the Golden Kingdom are required to train every day, lest the Snow Queen's soldiers come about to strike up a fight. Let us fetch you the cutest shoes you've ever seen, socks to match, and goodness gracious, I want to see you in something with silk!”

Minnie tilted her head back to see Ratface, who casually flew alongside them. Though they exchanged no verbal words, the look between their eyes was mutually understood.

It's killing you not to make fun of her, isn't it?

Shut up. Here I thought only your boy would carry you as a bride.

With Minnie unable to fight or make Daisy listen, she was whisked away to the cobbler, who was exasperated y the news of another party. Minnie was seated on a plush – yellow, of course – chair as the kindly old man measured her feet, then laid a brand new pair of fresh white socks on her lap.

Daisy flapped the fan on her face, analyzing Minnie all over again. “Colors, colors, colors... it must be so difficult for you to dress, you look like you'd match anything! Tell me, what would you like your shoes to be? Yellow is traditional, but, daresay, you could pull off purple.”

Minnie blinked at her, and then blinked at her several more times. She'd never been given an option about clothes before, so used to her family's hand-me-downs that she assumed she'd wear them even when old and gray. She first tried to dodge the question. “I don't have any way to repay you for this. I'm afraid all I have with me is some grass and vegetables.” And a valuable piece of jewelry, but Minnie wasn't going to part with that for anything.

“Repay me? Perish the thought. You're my honored guest.” Daisy lightly poked Minnie's nose with her fan. “The only thing I want from you is to have a good time at the party. Dance, and sing, and eat, and be merry! Make new friends! Find a special boy and take him into your arms!” She drew back her hand, eyes beginning to go distant. “Let him draw you away from the music so he can whisper sweet nothings into your ear... then go out into the balcony to see the stars and make a wish together...” Minnie began to doubt Daisy was really speaking to her anymore. “One more dance all by yourselves...”

“A-hem.” The cobbler cleared his throat. “The shoes, my lady?”

Daisy's eyes cleared up, rushing back to the present in full swing. “Eh? Ah? OH! Shoes. Shoes, yes!” She swiftly turned around and began to march up and down the aisles. “I should get a new pair myself while I'm here!”

As Daisy frittered away her choices, the cobbler shook his head, rubbing his aching back. “Sorry for all the trouble she's putting you in, miss,” he said, keeping his voice low. “She's not a bad girl... She just doesn't have her priorities in order anymore.”

Minnie lowered her head so she could return the whisper. “You mean she didn't use to be like this?”

“Mostly kept to the castle, she did, rarely came out to see us. Not that she was cold or mean... the King and Queen kept her inside at all times, 'fraid that the Snow Queen would someday snatch her away.” A pitiful sigh. “Irony, I tell you what. Two years ago, they were the ones taken away. Took a great toll on us all. But the princess did her best in their place, so she started leaving the castle to understand how things were run. Did a mighty fine job, if'fn you asked me.”

“So what changed?”

The old man shrugged. “Don't rightly know. I want to say it was about a month ago she began these parties... the first time was all right. It was to thank this brave young man for stopping a rotten family of muggers out to get her. Helped kick them right out of the kingdom. We all enjoyed that little shindig... it was a nice reminder of the happy things the Snow Queen can't take away from us. Then... she threw another one the next day. Then the next day. Over and over again, and she won't stop! We'll be bankrupt and sitting targets if this keeps up!”

Minnie chewed on her lower lip as she listened to the tale, eyes continuously going back to Daisy who sang a joyous melody as she chose a pair of silver heels for herself. No, she wasn't a bad person, Minnie decided, even if her experience with bad people was limited. Unlike Mother's backhanded praises, Daisy seemed to genuinely mean everything she said, even if she didn't think about it clearly. Minnie looked down at her lap, then put her head up. “She made me the guest of honor... maybe she'll listen to me. I could try to talk to her.” It might not be a success, but the idea of leaving these people without trying to help made her ill.

The cobbler's expression softened, and then he chuckled. “My thanks, good lady. Who knows? Maybe you'll have the angel's miracles on your side.”

There was that word again – angel. She'd been hearing a few times since she arrived in the Golden Kingdom, but was unfamiliar with the term. Maybe Ratface would know, if she could get a moment alone with him. Right now he was waiting outside, sitting on the roof, looking out for who knew what. Daisy bounced back to the two, twirling around in her new duds. “Oooh, these are the best ones yet! I'll pay you double – triple for these! No arguments, it shall be done.” The cobbler huffed, slightly bemused, as Daisy went on. “And what of you, Minnie? You never did answer me.”

If Minnie was going to get Daisy to listen, it seemed she would have no choice but to see this party through until the end. She fidgeted, hands on her lap. An actual choice about what to wear? Her heart was beating hard, nerves tingling. She didn't know excitement when it coursed through her blood. “Could... I mean... if it's no trouble... is red all right?”

Daisy gasped, hands clasped together. “Red... RED! Oh, of course, red! You were meant for red, you were born for red! No, what am I saying? Red was born for you! Red didn't exist until you came along! We must get you the reddest red to ever red!” She then turned on her heel and lightly began pushing the cobbler along. “Come, come! We will get the reddest, prettiest shoes for her adorable little feet! We haven't a moment to spare!”

Minnie was mostly grateful just to have shoes on again, no matter what the color, yet she couldn't deny a tinge of happiness that she was allowed to choose how it looked. Yet she only had them on for a handful of seconds before Daisy snatched her arm and dragged her away, because now she needed stockings! Now she needed gloves! Now she needed ribbons for her hair, not to mention six – no, seven – no, twelve dresses! She should have options and back-up options after all!

They only stopped shopping when Daisy was feeling peckish, and headed down to the bustling marketplace for a bite to eat. Minnie held onto Daisy's hand, afraid they'd be separated, and Daisy was more than happy to tug her along. All the lavish clothes had been sent to the castle for a “final prep-up” as Daisy called it, although Minnie kept the shoes on. Daisy hummed as she looked through the wares, unable to decide what to nibble on, and Minnie saw an opportunity since Daisy was, for once, not throwing money everywhere.

“May I ask you something, your highness?”

“Only if you call me by name,” Daisy said without turning back, balancing a fresh apple on her fan.

“All right... Daisy... Why do you keep throwing parties?”

The princess laughed, dropping a coin into the farmer's hand as she walked with her fruit. “Why? Because everyone loves parties! And happy people make for a happy kingdom.” Which meant she must have been ignoring the grimaces of the people around her who were grumbling about wanting to go to bed at a decent hour and finishing their late-night jobs. “Once you attend your first one, you'll know. Everyone's going to adore you, I can feel it.”

On sheer instinct, Minnie's lifelong ability to be blunt came out. “I don't think so. You're only being nice to me because I'm a reason to have a party, aren't you?”

At this point Daisy had bitten into the apple, but the words stabbed her so deeply that it fell off the fan and rolled along the ground until a peppy stray pup ran away with it. Even then, Daisy's jaw hung, bits of apple on her beak. When she found words, her typically sing-song voice was wrought with despair. “That's... that's not, true, I... I do like you, I...”

“But you don't know me,” Minnie said, although she began to feel guilty as she saw the agony in Daisy's eyes. It wasn't just about this truth – there was another truth behind them, and although Minnie couldn't fathom what it was, she could tell she was getting close. “How can you like me when you don't know anything about me? If I wasn't here, would you still have a party tonight?”

Some of the closer merchants, overhearing this incredibly awkward talk, began to shuffle away. Daisy's hands came together, wringing the fan, threatening to break it. She began to sniffle quietly, fighting back an urge to cry. “I... P-Please, I need to have this party...” Desperate, she grabbed Minnie's hands, pulling her close. “Please! Please... I'll give you anything you want, just... please let me have this party, I need...”

Of course, Minnie was going to ask again, why? But that's when she heard several loud sounds in succession.

First, a CRASH!

Then, a BANG!

Lastly, a YELL!

“WHY YOU DOGGONE STUBBORN LITTLE – I'LL RIP OFF YOUR FEATHERS AND STUFF 'EM INTO A PILLOW!”

That's when Ratface made an appearance, landing on Minnie's shoulder, gorging himself on a fat fish tail. A hand-drawn wagon raced down the pathway, one of the wheels broken, and a siding cracked in two, letting the rest of the fish fall onto the ground. The owner of the wagon, a young man with a bright yellow vest that made his dirty white feathers stick out all the more, was ranting at the top of his lungs about a tiny thief, oh how'd he catch him and cook him and use his bones as lawn ornaments. The man then tripped over a loose cobblestone, fell onto his face, the wagon ran him over, the wagon crashed into a wall, and the remains of the fish splattered onto the man.

Not a single member of the townsfolk appeared remotely surprised by these events. Instead, a few waved and passed with a communal, “Good afternoon, Donald.”

Minnie turned her head to glare at Ratface. “That wasn't nice.” Ratface made no comment.

Daisy, meanwhile, had perked up instantly, any tears in her eyes vanishing. “Donald! Oh, silly me, Sir Donald~! What a most pleasant afternoon it is, to see you out and about, hard at work!”

Donald managed to sit up, now covered in scales and slime. “Thanks, your highness... I think...” He pushed a fish off his beak, and then his anger was reignited when he saw Ratface upon Minnie's shoulder. “You! You lousy... nobody steals my cargo! I ought to pop you a new one!” He stood up in an attempt to do so, but began slipping on fish.

“Ah ah ah, careful there, dear Sir Donald,” Daisy cooed, catching Donald's hands and helping him to his feet. “I'll pay for the damages, don't you fret.”

“I really am sorry about what he's done.” Minnie frowned at Ratface, who didn't seem at all apologetic as he continued to eat. “My friend Ratface, he's really...” Ah, but she wasn't supposed to reveal he wasn't an average bird, wasn't she? “He's really...” She looked at Ratface, and one of those strange few feelings coursed inside her. “... He's really not a very bright bird.”

Ratface spat out the fish in shock, staring at Minnie, who calmly returned the look. “No, I'd say he's not a very smart bird at all. I mean, if he could talk, I'm sure he'd have some way of explaining himself. But he's not smart enough for that. It's a good thing he's pretty, though, isn't he?” She lightly stroked his beak with her finger.

Ratface's mouth hung open, torn between humiliation and – as reluctant as he would be to admit it – some respect.

Donald crossed his arms, but as he tapped his fingers, he began to cool down. “Well... he is a really dumb-looking bird. I guess if he's too stupid to know any better...” Minnie quickly went to clamp Ratface's beak with her hand, helping him resist the urge to claw Donald's face off. With that settled, he faced the princess. “And it's nice of you to offer, your highness-”

“Daaaisyyyy~” she corrected in song.

“... I can't let you keep paying for all my mistakes,” Donald finished. “My temper's my own problem. Maybe if I kept my cool...” He then airily gestured to the fish disaster around them.

“Oh, no.” Daisy clicked her tongue, drawing back a bit. “Don't tell me the guardsmen didn't let you pass the test again?”

Donald cleared his throat, tugging at his collar. “Um... on the plus side, this time I didn't insult anyone's mother.”

“It's not fair!” Daisy protested. “You would make an excellent guardsman! I'll tell Chief O'Hara to hire you right-”

“No, no, no!” Donald held out his hands, flailing slightly. “Daisy, don't! I want to get there on my own merits! You have your place,” he gestured far off, to the castle if Minnie had to guess, “And I have mine.” He opened his hands downward. “And that's where we have to stay. I don't want anyone thinking I got the job because I'm friends with royalty. You got that?”

“Right... right... of course...” Daisy's enthusiasm was falling, until she spotted Minnie out of the corner of her eye. “Where are my manners? Donald, this is Minnie, my new best friend!” she announced as she yanked Minnie in front of Donald.

“She is?” Donald asked.

“I am?” Minnie also asked.

“Minnie, Donald, Donald, Minnie.” Daisy wildly waved back and forth between them. “She's a new arrival to the Golden Kingdom, and she's never been to a party before! So, being the wonderful person that I am, I'm throwing a party in her honor!”

Donald's shoulders sank. “Another party? I barely recovered from last night's! My feet still ache from all those dances! And the guardsmen need to stay at the doors to protect us, not chomp down on a buffet! Do we really need another one?”

“Yes,” Daisy replied automatically. “Yes we do. Why, it would be rude not to! For Minnie's sake! Look at that cute face and tell her you don't want a party! You can't, can you? She's too adorable.”

Donald sucked the inside of his cheek, he and Minnie exchanging sympathetic gestures. “... Never? Not even for your birthday?” he finally asked.

Minnie tilted her head. “What's a birthday?”

Daisy's plan was temporarily forgotten due to sheer shock. “Oh my gosh. I am buying you twenty more dresses.” Then she remembered, shook her head, and focused her attention back on Donald. “You will come... won't you?”

Donald slumped forward – another fish fell out of his vest. “Okay... fine. Just for her. One more party, and that's it.”

“Oooh, goody goody!” Daisy clapped wildly, even doing another spin. “Of course you will, I never doubted you would, Sir Donald!”

“Yeah-huh.” Donald finally went back to his job, picking up the fish one by one. “Guess I better finish this quickly if I want to make it...”

“Let me help, help me help!”

As Daisy flounced from fish to fish, Ratface nudged Minnie's cheek. Since he was still on his self-imposed limit, he used both wings to point at Donald, then Daisy, then pressed his wings together. Minnie didn't get it. He did it again. She still stared without a clue. Ratface threw his wings up in frustration before kicking the satchel on Minnie's back, the jewelry inside jostling.

Minnie's eyes widened. “... Oooh. So you're saying...?” He nodded. “She feels...?” Nod. “So the reason is...?” Nod.

“I'm... going to have a difficult time leaving this place, aren't I?”

Big, big, big nod.

[hysterialevi]

When the Devil Cries pt. 17

Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

From Arthur’s POV

A COUPLE HOURS LATER

SHADY BELLE

Practically leaning my entire body against Eddie due to fatigue, the boy hurriedly rode through the thick woods surrounding Shady Belle as we approached the abandoned mansion, instantly catching the attention of the guards.

Things seemed peaceful enough ‘round here, and it didn’t look like Atticus had reached the camp yet which was a huge relief considerin’ the shit Eddie and I just went through with the O’Driscolls. Though, that only made me wonder whether it was because they didn’t know our location, or because they was simply bidin’ their time. I supposed we would see soon enough.

Slowin’ down to a halt, Eddie transitioned into a steady trot as we got closer to the camp’s entrance, causin’ someone to block our path. It was John.

“Who goes there?” He called out, readying his rifle.

“Relax, Marston!” I replied, my voice a lot more hoarse than normal. “It’s me, Arthur.” I gestured to Eddie. “Don’t worry ‘bout him. He’s a friend. He means no harm.”

John took a better look at me, his eyes widening in concern once he noticed my wounds.

“Jesus...!” He exclaimed. “The hell happened to you out there, Arthur?”

“I’ll explain later...” I slurred out, struggling to keep myself upright. “Right now, I just need to speak with Dutch. Y’know where he is?”

Marston pointed to the mansion. “I think he’s in there with Hosea. He’ll wanna see you. You’ve been gone for quite a while. But...what about your friend?”

I held back a pained groan. “Like I said...he can be trusted. He won’t breathe a word about this place to no one. I wouldn’t have brought him here if I thought otherwise.”

He still appeared somewhat hesitant, but allowed him inside anyway. “Well...if you’re sure. Just keep an eye on him. Folk ain’t gonna be happy you brought a stranger to us.”

I nodded, holding onto Eddie as he took us into the camp. “I know...I know.”

Proceeding through the barricades, the pianist hitched his horse just outside the entrance and helped me down as the gang slowly gathered around us, all of ‘em curious to see what was goin’ on while Eddie guided me to the mansion.

From all different directions, I could hear the other members murmurin’ to each other in both relief and alarm as they speculated about the situation, skeptical to trust the new face I had brought along with me.

“...Is that Arthur?” Mary-Beth asked, pokin’ her head above Charles’ shoulder. “Has he come back?”

“Looks like it,” the man replied in a stoic tone. “He’s not alone though.”

Micah let out an annoyed yet somehow amused scoff, casually sharpening his knife. “Pfft. Leave it to Morgan to make a grand entrance like this.” He raised his voice slightly. “Welcome home, Arthur! I’m sure things’ll be just fine now that you’re here.”

I threw a glare at him, doin’ my best to keep up with Eddie’s pace. “Shut your mouth, Micah.”

He grinned. “A gentleman as always, my brother.”

Sadie jumped in, both her and Pearson’s eyes nailed onto me as the pianist was forced to come to a stop with how many people was surrounding us.

“Arthur!” She greeted, her brow furrowed in anxiety. “Goddamn, what happened to you? Was it them Pinkertons?”

I shook my head, growing weaker by the second. “...No.”

A sense of anger ignited her already wild eyes. “Well, whoever it was, they’re gonna have hell to pay.” Sadie turned to Pearson. “Don’t just stand there! Get him somethin’ to eat, for God’s sake. The man looks dead!”

The chef complied, briefly acknowledging me before taking his leave. “Right, of course. Mister Morgan.”

“Pearson.” I said back.

Bill and Javier hopped in the minute Pearson left, bombarding me with even more questions.

“Well, you’ve seen better days, amigo.” The latter remarked.

I let out a frail chuckle. “I’ve also seen worse.”

“Who even did this to you?” Bill asked.

“And more importantly, did they follow you?” Javier added.

Again, I shook my head. “No. I don’t think so. We didn’t see anybody on our trail.”

“Yeah,” Bill commented grumpily, “people like to make sure you don’t see them when they’re followin’ you, Arthur.”

I sighed. “I don’t have time for this, Williamson. I just need to speak with Dutch.”

A voice of pragmatism joined the conversation, breaking up all the commotion.

“Well, here I am.”

Pushing his way through the crowd with Hosea in tow, Dutch’s presence alone instantly caused the entire gang to fall silent as the two of them walked up to me, immediately recognizing the boy standing by my side.

Both of them looked distressed upon seeing my injuries -- Hosea especially -- but in Dutch’s face, I could also see a hint of anger and uncertainty. It was pretty damned obvious he didn’t approve of my bringin’ Eddie into the camp, and I didn’t blame him one bit for it.

I mean, here I was, lookin’ like a corpse come back to life with God-knows-what chasing me, and a man who was a stranger to most of the people in the camp. They didn’t know a damned thing about him, or the men who wanted him dead, and yet, I had allowed this boy to enter the heart of our operations. Not only that, but I had also possibly led Atticus and gang here, too.

Goddamn, I really was a fool. But I was a fool with no other choices.

Taking a step towards me, Dutch examined my burned and cut body, his brown eyes flicking up and down.

“Oh, my boy,” he said, “my dear boy...what happened to you? And why’ve you brought your friend here?”

“He saved me, Dutch,” I answered, my words almost incoherent at this point. “...He saved my life.”

The man glanced at Eddie. “Is that true?”

Eddie nodded, adjusting my arm around his shoulder as I hung like a noose. “Arthur was kidnapped,” he explained. “By the O’Driscolls. They were holding him in their camp. I got him out though.”

Dutch cursed. “Colm’s involved in this? Shit. I shoulda known.”

Hosea gave the boy a sincere expression of gratitude. “Well, you certainly have our thanks, young man. It was brave of you to do that.”

“Indeed,” Dutch agreed, “but I hope you don’t mind, Arthur, I’m still gonna have someone keep an eye on your friend here.” He turned to a random member. “Micah?”

I mentally groaned to myself. Out of all people...

“Sure thing,” Micah said, moseying on up to the boy. “Don’t you worry, Arthur. I’ll take good care of him.”

I glowered at the sleazy man. “Oh, I’m sure you will.”

Dutch promptly took Eddie’s place and allowed me to lean on him, sensing the growing tension between me and Micah.

“In the meantime...” he continued, “let’s you and I head inside, and you explain what all this is about.” He glanced at his friend. “Hosea? Come with us, would you?”

The older man rushed over. “Of course.”

Helpin’ me inside the mansion, Dutch and Hosea guided me through the front doors while the rest of the gang stayed behind, all of ‘em watching with a newfound curiosity.

I didn’t much like the idea of leavin’ Eddie alone in a camp full of outlaws -- especially not when Micah was the one guardin’ him -- but I knew the kid could handle himself, and I trusted most of the people here to keep things civil. I only prayed I was right.

After all, folk here had been stressed recently, and Lord only knew what they went through while I was away. I doubted it would take much more to push ‘em over the edge, and the last person I wanted them to be takin’ out their anger on was Eddie.

Jesus. I really hoped I did the right thing, bringing him here. He was a fish outta water among us criminals, and if somethin’ were to go south, Eddie didn’t exactly have any other places to hide. This was his only viable option at the moment, and Atticus already had his men crawlin’ all over the wilds. If he went back out there, he would get killed.

I supposed our only choice now was making things work...no matter how hard it would be.

Assisting me to the closest couch, Dutch plopped me down on the cushioned piece of furniture as I sighed in relief, finally able to relax a little ever since escapin’ from Colm’s camp.

After endurin’ the kidnapping, the beating, the shooting, and the longest goddamned ride of my life...honestly, I could’ve fallen asleep standing up. But I had to discuss things with Dutch and Hosea first, and hopefully, if I got lucky, convince him to let Eddie stay.

Dutch examined my broken body, the more vengeful side of him comin’ out as he looked to me for answers.

“Now...you mind tellin’ me just what the hell is going on? How did Colm find you?”

I clutched my wound, tryin’ to keep myself from keeling over. “He weren’t alone. Colm’s teamed up with another gang, Dutch. The same gang that wants Eddie dead. They was plannin’ to use me as bait to lure him in.”

Dutch glanced outside. “Eddie. That’s the boy you brought with you?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Eddie Ryan. You met him briefly at that gala a while ago. The people who sent them assassins after him -- they’re finally here. And they’re doin’ everything within their power to kill him.”

Hosea raised another question. “And who are ‘they,’ exactly?”

I coughed a few times, suddenly feelin’ extremely parched. “...Atticus Rose. That’s the gang’s leader.”

A sense of familiarity twinkled in the old man’s eyes. “Atticus Rose?”

I perked my head up. “You know him?”

“Not personally,” Hosea replied, “but back in the days of the Wild West, stories about him used to circulate, especially around New Austin. They say he’s an extremely skilled gunslinger. Was raised by the very same outlaws that killed his parents. And once he was old enough, Atticus killed the ones responsible in return. Formed the survivors into his own gang. Though...like I mentioned before, these are just stories. They’re probably more mythical than factual. Most-likely nothing more than tales created by outlaws to scare civilization from spreading to the west.”

I leaned against the back of the couch. “Well, I can assure you: he’s very real. And he wants Eddie dead.”

Dutch gave me a stern glare, gesturing to the mansion around us.

“...And so you bring the boy into our home? Into our sanctuary...?! Even knowing who’s after him?”

A pang of guilt hit me. “I know, Dutch. I know. It’s dangerous, and it’s risky...and I’m sorry for doin’ it...but that boy ain’t got nowhere else to go. They’ve surrounded his house, and they’re searchin’ all over the wilderness for any signs of him. Eddie may be tougher than he looks, but even he can’t go against that many men. He’ll be killed out there.”

Dutch sighed in frustration, unconvinced. “Well, like I said before, Arthur, we can’t afford taking a risk like this! We don’t have the time or the resources!”

“Eddie could be of use to us, Dutch,” I assured. “He’s a good shot, and he’s lived in Saint Denis for years now. He knows that city better than any of us combined. We’ll need that knowledge if we’re still plannin’ to hit that bank. And most importantly...Eddie’s loyal. He’s got no reason to turn his back on us, and he trusts me. We’re the only option he has left. He won’t give us away.”

Dutch’s mind still wasn’t swayed.

“I’m sorry, Arthur, but we got our own enemies. Our own battles. Our own problems! And that boy ain’t one of them!”

Hosea joined in, voicing his own opinion.

“He is now.”

Dutch suddenly cocked his head towards him, clearly upset about the situation.

“Hosea, we can’t--”

“--You would’ve done the same for Annabelle!” The older man fired back, almost looking disappointed in his brother. “And I would’ve done the same for Bessie. Arthur’s right. This is a dangerous move, and it is risky...but that don’t matter. People like Eddie are the reason we started this gang, Dutch. You’ve said it yourself: we shoot fellers as need shooting, save fellers as need saving, and feed ‘em as need feeding. We aren’t perfect, but we can protect the people we love. ...I say the boy stays.”

Making his position clear, Hosea went quiet after that and took a moment to calm himself, causin’ Dutch to glance back and forth between the two of us as he made a decision, obviously torn by the dilemma.

He didn’t look as eager to take Eddie in as he did when we sheltered Mac, or Jenny, or even Sadie, but I could tell some part o’ him still cared, and he knew how much that kid meant to me.

At the same time though, none of us could ignore the threat of the Pinkertons closin’ in on us more and more with every passing day. Agent Milton had already found us twice, and there was no tellin’ how many more of them was watching our every move.

Having to worry about them as well as Atticus and his gang...it was gonna stretch us thin. It was gonna make the tensions in camp escalate even higher, and there was also the fact that I didn’t know how the rest of the gang would accept Eddie. If they’d accept him at all.

It was a choice that was gonna end up dividing us one way or another, but all I wanted was to keep the boy safe. That was it.

Rubbing his chin in thought, Dutch turned back to me and took a breath, his eyes narrowed in skepticism as he pondered the decision.

“...You really care about this boy?” He asked. I gave him a sincere look.

“I do.”

“And you think he’s worth it?”

Again, my answer was the same.

“...I do.”

Dutch took the response to heart, appearing to have finally changed his mind as he peered through the mansion’s windows, examining Eddie for a second before announcing his conclusion.

It was pretty evident he didn’t think much of the boy, and he had a hard time seein’ the same things Hosea and I saw in him, but deep down, I could tell he was still hurting from losin’ Annabelle. He understood more than anyone how hard it was to lose a loved one, and despite how much we may have argued recently, Dutch didn’t want the same thing to happen a third time.

He let out a reluctant sigh, seemingly willing to give Eddie a chance at least.

“...Very well,” he agreed. “If both of you think this man has a place here...then I suppose we can keep him around for a while. Least until he sorts things out.”

I looked up at him with a hopeful gaze. “So you’re lettin’ him stay?”

Dutch nodded, resting his hands on his hips. “Yes. Mister Ryan...is now part of the gang.”

[alvertesongdiary]

Drake - Falling Back

Ayy, yo Ayy, ayy Oh

Finding myself Showing myself Finding a way to stay outta the way Holding me back Supposed to come right back Guardin' myself while I'm all on display I know you know all about it I know, deep down, you feel the same I know you know how I feel I know you know how I feel How do I, how do I feel? How do I feel? How do you say to my face, "Time heals"? Then go and leave me again, unreal I see us fadin' away I'm still holdin' my breath for the day that you will See that the effort I make is too real How can you say that you know how I feel? Ayy, whee How can you say you know what I'm feeling? Wait Know what I'm feeling, wait You don't feel nothing, wait Nothing is healing, wait Time is just killing, wait How can you say? Wait You know what I'm feeling, wait You know what I'm feeling, wait You don't feel nothing, wait Time isn't healing, wait Time is revealing, wait How are you feeling? Wait You don't feel nothing

Me Me

Just like I expected, falling back on me Falling with I, falling back on me Falling back on me, falling back on me Falling back on mе, falling back on me Falling back on me, falling back on me Falling back on mе, falling back on me Falling back on me, falling back on me Falling back on me Falling back on me, falling back on me Falling back on me, falling back on me Falling back on me, falling back on me Falling back on me, falling back on me What would you do without me? What would you do without me? I think you would lose everything Fallin' back on me

Wherever you are, you don't test

22/06/2022

[abandonambition]

“Want some?” “Uh…dude, we’re supposed to guard this door.” “Yeah I know. Want some whisky to pass the time?” “I don’t think you get it…we have to GUARD. This DOOR. We can’t get drunk!” “Like hell we can’t! I’m drunk right now! And I’m still…*hic*...guardin’ the door!” “Oh my gods…Hey, what do you think is behind there, anyway?” “If it’s not beer or booze, I don’t care! *glug glug glug*” As this isn't a commission, public critique is encouraged! I'm pushing myself to do more backgrounds, and a medieval door seemed like a good place to start. Also, friendly nudge that I currently have a commission special going on for anthro characters like those in this drawing. There's only 20 spots open, so take a look at the details and secure your spot here. Thanks!

[the-devils-hallucinations]

Lost in my head, lost in my mind Telling myself that I'll be just fine Nothing's okay, nothing's alright Smoking all day, crying all night And what the fuck you expect from the kid I got demons in my orbit that I'm tryin' to rid

guardin

[gryndboxstudios]

Artist Profile: Sigh

by Bryce Tinsdale

Let me start off by saying, Jon has been my fucking boy since like, my sophomore year in high school. Dude was in 8th grade, I met him through band. He’s been a day one since we met, which is why it’s my pleasure to get to ask him a couple questions, get inside his head, and share his work. Jon is one of my biggest inspirations as an artist and one very solid reason why I gained the courage to even try rapping. His lyricism is crazy, subject matter is on point, and his flows are solid. He started rapping at 16 I believe, dropped out of high school soon after, and has been posting on Soundcloud since. He’s a guy you wouldn’t regret following on there.

Whats your creative process look like when you’re starting to write a song?

To be completely honest, I'm constantly thinking of rhymes. If one sticks, I write it down somewhere - recently in a notebook or a scrap of paper. When I find a beat that I like I just listen to it over and over trying to find pockets, find my rhythm. From there I freestyle on it a couple times then move on to actually writing a full song.

What motivated you to start in music?

I've actually wanted to be an artist or entertainer since I was a kid. I used to love to sing and wanted to be the frontman in a band. I Always had this weird ambition to create alternate view points through music and literature. I grew up around a lot of different types of music and rap stood out in a special way to me so I decided to try my hand at it. It started out as me kinda just bullshitting to myself; a way to express my thoughts, but of course as I got better and got more encouragement to continue, I realized I could actually do something with it.

Did taking band in school influence your decision to start in music?

I wouldn't say to start, but it definitely broadened my horizons a little bit. Taking band gave me a little bit more insight and understanding into everything. Definitely solidified the idea that I wanted to do SOMETHING relating to music.

How much of your daily life is spent either making or thinking about your music, or music in general?

Man, fun fact, all I do is listen to music. I don't ever watch TV, I don't sleep much either so really, I'm always listening to music of some kind or writing. If I've got a song started I go back to it several times a day until it's finished, sometimes I won't add anything to it, just recite it in my head and even it out.

Have you ever considered branching out as far as style goes?

Yes! I actually think about it quite often. I've always said I wanted to start a side project or side channel. I'm really into jazz and old swing stuff, along with old rock and roll. I'd love to do R&B of some sort and indie/singer-songwriter type songs.

How has the criticism you gave yourself at your start different from the criticism you give yourself now?

Oh man, I'm an asshole to myself. Nothing's ever good enough for me. In the beginning I used to dog on myself about my voice, I felt it wasn't confident enough or energetic enough, I don't know. Over time that became less of an issue but I still pick at stuff like 'oh you're not lyrical enough', then it's 'you're trying too hard', 'your content matter is dark', just stuff like that that I tell myself. It actually used to stop me from writing pretty frequently, I would just kinda lock up cause it didn't feel good enough to me. Now if it don't feel good enough to me it usually becomes a throwaway and I'll reincorporate ideas or lines from those songs into better ones.

If not for making music, what could you see yourself doing?

That's really a tough one man... I used to write stories and shit when I was younger. Maybe that. Or an actor of some sort. I wanted to jump into the chemistry field until I discovered I'm HORRIBLE at math. Maybe a teacher of some sort. I love science and English a lot so it'd have to be something in those fields, but to be a hundred percent honest I've never thought too deeply into it. My plan B was to follow plan A.

What are some newer artists you like?

Kodak Black for sure be spitting that real. JuiceWRLD like a guilty pleasure to my ears I can't lie . Uzi's music be so damn high energy it's infectious. Lil Peep is nice too. Honestly a lot of newer music I listen to comes from cats on Soundcloud. Mavo and Dxct, really the whole MTPHSCS collective, Tytuus, Toxic, Sam Ryan, MANA, Convolk, Guardin, Whxami, Chester Watson, Steven Moses, Nothing Nowhere, Jetson, Na$ty. Soundcloud is just full of too many gems man.

How many songs did you make before you made one you were really proud of?

I'll put it like this, I lost 1 phone with over 100 notes in it before I even RECORDED my first song. Some of the songs I'm truly proud of, I haven't got to release yet. It took me so goddamn long to get to a point where I was like 'aight yeah this is good enough for me to put out' but proud of? Shit that took me even longer. The fucked up thing is I never realize it until it's out, I'm always like 'ahh man I coulda done this better or that better or changed this line'.

Whats the origin of your stage name?

Well originally, I went by Psilxcybin. When I was 16 I used to take and sell a lot of acid and mushrooms, my Instagram name when I released my first tape was Psilxcybin. I had never gotten into the process of thinking about my stage name, so when I finally went to release my tape it was kinda like, 'well you gotta call yourself something so why not this?'

Over the years I shortened it down to Psilx, then I wanted to just go by Psi. But instead of going by Psi I used the play on similar sounds and decided I would go by Sigh.

Whats been your biggest challenge as a musician so far?

I've had a real hectic home life since I was 15, so I never got the chance to invest in equipment and no one around me ever had any, so recording music is a constant challenge. Then getting it mixed becomes a battle of dealing with the collision of my vision, the engineers vision, and overcoming my perfectionism to settle on a final project. 

Other than that, realizing and accepting not everyone's gonna fuck with my music was a big eye opener but it offered relief too. I'm of the opinion that if someone likes my music it's for them and if they don't, screw 'em I got my own niche.

Do you have an end goal for your career or just going with the flow?

Right now I'm just going with the flow. I wanted to be bigger when I was starting out but then I realize I didn’t want the stress that comes with being super big. I'll take moderate success for now. My end goal I guess would be able to support myself off my art and use it to open doors to other avenues of revenue.

Would you want to land a deal or stay independent?

Honestly it, depends on my stage of artistry. If I'm at a point where I'm making music and making money off it I probably wouldn't. Deals are a sketchy subject man, when a label owns all the rights to your music it complicates a lot of shit. If you're not super star quality you end up getting shelved for $1,00,000 while the label keeps your masters. It's like back in the 50s 60s 70s, there's so many different variations of songs because the LABEL owned the songs so they'd jus give it to a new singer and have them perform it (examples: Stand By Me, Hallelujah)

Any advice for anyone that wants to start making music?

Yeah, don't think about it too heavily just fucking do it. Let everything else fall into place cause thinking too much will freeze you in your tracks.

Would you be open to starting a group or is solo the only way you’ll go?

Man I'd love to have a group. I grew up listening to a lot of Bone Thugz and 3 6 Mafia, so I've always found that aspect of rap cool, but having instrumentals produced with elements of live instruments is another fantasy of mine along with just doing other side projects/sounds. I could never count anything out with this music shit, that's for sure.

What are you working on now? Any big plans for the future?

I wanna drop a video this year and I've been saying for a year now that I was gonna drop a project, but at this point I think I'm just gonna drop the songs I have one at a time while I work on something else. A lot of singing in some of my new songs, definitely experimentation and trying out stuff I haven't really done before. I'm excited to show it all off.

You can follow Sigh on Soundcloud twitter IG 

also follow Gryndbox Studios for more cool shit like interviews, videos, reviews and much much more!

[autochthonousone]

Shadows Beyond the Wall: Mending Body and Mind

(( Apologies to @the-worst-mercenaries for getting this log out so late! Too long! ))

Shana Deftarm ( @the-worst-mercenaries ) was dirty, bloody, and tired, but atleast it was over. Her lance, or rather what she'd managed to yank free of the wreckage before was mangled, the blade pointing at an angle that wasn't typically seen. She was grimacing, poking at it like perhaps sheer force of will would correct it. She'd see it repaired tomorrow; for now she just wanted to sit and relax without being shot or stabbed.

Barengar Armsbreaker ( @autochthonousone ) disembarked from the airship idly grumbling to himself, his left shoulder rolling back several times as he moved. His gait was slightly askew, the hard landing from the parachute drop still left him less than eager to do too much walking ... or jump from an airship again anytime soon. His eyes swept over the archipelago of floating land masses as his lungs filled with a deep breath. Eyes flickered over to Shana, looking her up and down as he assessed her condition. "One things fer sure."

Barengar Armsbreaker grunted stiffly, "Yer made outta stern 'nough stuff."

Shana Deftarm smirked, hearing the familiar gruff tone of Armsbreaker. "I've had my fair share of Garleans taking their best chance on me, I've yet to meet one that was up to the task." Rather than blowing the hair from her face, she brushed it back behind an ear. The war paint hadn't held up quite as nicely, some places smeared or wiped clean. "You seemed to hold up fairly well. Minus the landing."

Barengar Armsbreaker snorts. Her comment regarding his landing causing his eyes to drop down to his legs and shift his weight back and forth from one to the next. His expression was not terribly pleased looking but that wasn't too far from the norm. "Supposin' it ain't in my first nature ta jump fr'm a flyin' ship." he grumbled before looking back up to Shana, "Spent m're than a few turns dancin' wit' those monstrosities."

Shana Deftarm shrugged, jabbing the lance end into the softer earth to stand on it own, folding her arms. "It was certainly higher up than I've ever attempted, but the ship was a smoother flight than any griffon that wasn't liding could hope for." She chuckled, raising up her shoulders. "I usually kept away from the bigger brutes; it was easier to one-on-one a man than it was one of their magitek monsters. The experience you have with 'em was evident when you dropped 'em to the ground."

Barengar Armsbreaker bobs his head from side to side, considering her words, "They tend ta leave those things guardin' things they ain't keen on seein' destroyed." he snorts, "Ya know, the sorta stuff tha' the bleedin' Resistance plucks're interested in breakin'." He glanced back up at Shana again before making his way over to one of the ledges, "Learn wha' ya gotta ta not wind up six-fulms under."

Barengar Armsbreaker briefly leans over the edge, glancing down into the sea of clouds before taking one step back and shaking his head; grumbling.

Shana Deftarm: "I don't go poking around where I shouldn't be, where Garlemald is concerned." Shana murmured, shaking her head. "Didn't want to give them reason to come find us, or poke around where we hid." She watched him wander close to the side, before looking out at the clouds beyond them. "Didn't think a job would take us all the way up here, at least.

Barengar Armsbreaker rolled his left shoulder back several times, right hand rising up to press against the front of it. His eyes closed as he seemed to be focusing on the wat that the arm moved in the socket. Eventually he exhaled slowly, sounding mildly irritated, and turned around to face Shana once again, "Weren't 'xactly expectin' it m'self." he answered in a low tone, "Bu' m'used to havin' to trek 'bout."

Shana Deftarm was watching Barengar, forehead wrinkled in concentration. She didn't say anything for a few moments, simply frowning before she opened her mouth. "Your shoulder's worse off." It was a statement, punctuated with a sigh as she canted her head to the side. "D'you need to see anyone? You're more..." she waved a hand. "You're more fidgety than I've seen you."

Barengar Armsbreaker grunted once, his head shaking from side to side silently, grumbling under his breath, "Supposin' that I oughta 'ave it seen ta 'gain." His lips pressed into a thin line, "Bu' I ain't 'bout ta die fr'm it righ' here'n now." He lifts his right hand up and gestures vaguely toward Shana, "Yer lookin'  a bit m're busted th'n myself any'ow."

Shana Deftarm shrugged, one hand shifting up to poke up the bullet wound in her arm. "It's not the first time I've been in a battle," she chuckled before dropping her hands to her hips. "It's not even the first time I've been shot. It just felt... better to be swinging the lance around." Shana frowned, looking down at the different injuries that she could see. "Maybe when we get back I'll let Haralt have a look. Or Adun/"

Barengar Armsbreaker bobbed his head to the side, "Ya've got a way of swingin' tha' thing 'round ta be sure." he grunted, eyes tearing away from his shoulder, and his expression looked thoughtful, "Ain't knowin' 'im even 'alf way ta well, bu' fightin' side t'side wit'  the elder Blackblade was an enlightenin' experience. Ain't made that short o' work o' a vanguard n'a long time."

Shana Deftarm chuckled, that grin still in place. "He does nothing but train, or hit things. Its what the man lives for." Her laughing dropped off, the grin turning to a faint smile. "But he always looked out for us. He was the last one over the wall when we came over." She nodded, her eyes going back to Barengar's shoulder before looking at the man himself. "You'd probably get on with him well enough. He doesn't take well to bullshit either."

Barengar Armsbreaker snorts, the man taking an ample amusement at her assessment of his tolerance for 'bullshit'. He bobbed his head to the side, "Yeah m'figurin' tha' 'e an' I 'ave a bit more'n common than mos' folk I meet." He shook his head slowly, "Only thin' we c'n do, in the end, is wha' we're thinkin' oughta be done from what we're given. Right're wrong. If ya do less then yer sellin' yer convictions short." he paused a moment and glanced over to the aetheryte stone, "Soundin' like Blackblade's feelin' th' same in tha' regard."

Shana Deftarm followed the line of his eyes to the Aetheryte, rubbing at a cheek and glancing at her fingers to see how badly she'd been smudged. "I'm surprised Ishgard keeps an outpost here, but it makes sense. Don't want their enemies dropping in literally from the heavens."

Barengar Armsbreaker tipped his head toward the woman in agreement, "S'long as they've got s'me o' the tribes stalkin' 'round out 'ere I figure they're inclined ta keep s'me eyes on it." He paused a moment, glancing back toward Shana, "Figurin' you ain't keen on standin' any longer'n I am."

Shana Deftarm chuckled with a shake of her head. "Can't say that I am, no. Just not fond of lurking about Ishgard even if it's paying me." She took some steps forward, coming along side Barengar. "Any ideas where to go?"

Barengar Armsbreaker lifted his right should in a slight shrug as he turned toward the outpost proper, "Save fer bookin' passage back ta' Thanalan, I'm feelin' tha' this's bein' right far 'nough 'way fr'm the city proper." he wrinkles his nose slightly at the thought of the chill and bustle of the city, "Figurin' that'm inclined ta rest up 'ere 'till next sun." He glances toward Shana, "After all the travelin' fer this job I ain't keen on rushin' 'round s'me more."

Barengar Armsbreaker: "'Course, I din't jus' get shot."

Shana Deftarm smirked, shaking her head. "It didn't hit anywhere important. And that... aura? Ow-rah? Was quick to keep things manageable." The smirk seemed to melt away, her brows drawn together a moment. "I don't sleep much, but I could do with a rest to wind down before I open these up again and bleed all over this fine floating rock."

Barengar Armsbreaker grunted as his head tipped, once more, toward Shana in /nearly/ silent concession. He rolled his left shoulder back once more subconsciously before slowly nodding, "Tha' fella was a righ' bit 'andy ta 'ave 'round." he gestured toward the outpost proper, "Figurin' we ain't gonna be paid much mind if'n we hole up there." He pressed his lips into a thin line, grunting again, "Figurin' tha's m'plan any'ow."

Barengar Armsbreaker: "Ya got bandagin' 'andy? Figurin' ya c'n use s'me o' mine if'n ya ain't 'ad it wrapped proper."

Shana Deftarm: "I've got some," Shana said after a moment, looking at the wound in her arm once more. "It's gonna be another scar," she mumbled, blowing her hair from her eyes. "Can't drink anything either til it's looked at, at any rate." Shana added with a grin. "But you're right. I should get it wrapped up until someone can take care of it."

Barengar Armsbreaker dips his head toward Shana, "Ain't managed ta keep m'self in as one piece as long as I 'ave by bein' reckless wit' wounds." he grunted lowly and began to make his way toward the the outpost, "Ain't one fer rollin' dice."

Shana Deftarm: "Its just hard to keep track, where each one came from." Shana poked at the scar on her face, before dropping her hands to her hips. "Atleast its a reminder what not to do, later." She wandered up to the railing, leaning forward and looking down at the clouds below. "... Its nice, being up here." She said after a pause, eyes darting about the different shapes in the clouds. "Bit cold though." She sighed, pushing up the sleeve of the jerkin. It seemed it had passed straight through her arm.

Barengar Armsbreaker moves over to the railing as they step out onto the lookout, leaning on it in a similar fashion to Shana, eyes lingering over the shifting mass of clouds below. It was odd to him how it seemed so akin to the sea. His attention was stolen away by the inspection of Shana's wound, gaze lingering just long enough to determine the general severity of the damage. "Lookin' like it clipped righ' through without lookin' fer lodgin's.Tha'll make 'ealin' easier."

Shana Deftarm nodded. "I wasn't much looking forward to pulling a bullet out; at least that worked out in my favor." She let the sleeve drop back down, looking around for a pouch she'd kept tucked away. "Did you get cut anywhere, or just took a beating?"

Barengar Armsbreaker reachs back and pulls his weapon from his back, leaning it up against one of the support beams of the building before shifting and allowing more of his weight to rest against the railing, "Jus' a beatin'. Figurin' if'n tha' monstrosity 'ad managed to get a good swipe on me I'd be doin' a lot less standin' 'round on floatin' islands." he snorts slightly, "Tha' au'ra fella managed to mend wha' damage done ta m'bones."

Shana Deftarm frowned a bit, pushing the sleeve back up to reexamine her arm. It was her turn to grumble, dropping down to the ground with a heavy curse. The pouch was set down in front of her, pulling out a tiny square of cloth to clear away some of the blood. "Could be worse. At least you managed to dodge most of the gunfire."

Barengar Armsbreaker settles himself down upon the ground as Shana begins to tend to her wound. The mercenary's eyes watch her movements, trying to judge how familiar she was with the process. He grunted quietly, "S'not so 'ard when yer standin' next ta a bleedin' wall of walkin' metal." he flicked his gaze up from her wound briefly as amused passed over his features, "Fryin' pans and fires. R'somethin' like that."

Shana Deftarm chuckled, shaking her head. "Maybe." She frowned, popping open a jar of something that smelled astringent and sharp. She was scowling as soon as the smell hit her, shaking her head. "I don't mind much the pain when its in the heat of the moment... but after." She sighed, a burst of annoyed air. "Sometimes I'm more annoyed after the fact." She wrinkled her forehead, concentrating, finally settling on pushing the salve just to the edge of the wound on one side but leaving a ring around the immediate wound bare. "... think that's right."

Barengar Armsbreaker watches quietly, bobbing his head to the side, "Easy ta ignore the small wounds when yer still movin' ta keep yer head on yer shoulders." he snorts quietly, "They're a might bit less important when yer comparin' 'em." As she applies the salve he slowly nods his head, "Ain't sure 'xactly what yer usin' bu' I've 'ad ta wrap 'nough wounds in m'time ta know tha's lookin' proper."

Shana Deftarm huffed, flicking her eyes ate Barengar. ".... usually Haralt wraps and binds everything up. I do it too tight, or not tight enough. Too much of this burning, foul-smelling shite or not enough." She sighed, poking at the salve like she wasn't quite sure she'd done even that step right. "Though when I go out to fight I do it until I can't move much anymore. Go right to sleep after."

Barengar Armsbreaker lifted his brow slightly, a slow breath filling his lungs before slowly evacuating. He shifted in his place such that he was resting upon his knees and more directly facing Shana. He held a hand out with his palm upturned, awaiting the roll of bandaging with a stiff grunt.

Shana Deftarm frowned, looking down at the upturned hand. "Can't wrap my own injuries," she said with a sigh, shoulders sagging and head hanging. "At least it wasn't any worse..." Shana looked up with a frown, briefly meeting Barengar's eyes and finally just dropping the roll into his hand. "... Thank you."

Barengar Armsbreaker simply grunted and waved his, for now, free hand in a dismissive gesture. "Ain't anythin' ta be said fer it." he grumbled lowly as he began to pull a length of cloth from the roll, glancing up and down from the roll and Shana's arm as he gauged how much he'd likely need. After a moment he leaned forward and pressed one end upon her arm and began to wrap it around the wound, his voice rumbling quietly at he worked, "Ain't 'xactly easy ta proerly bind yer own arm. All things bein' considered."

Shana Deftarm held out her arm, leaning forward and watching the clouds shifting endlessly. "I still appreciate it all the same." She watched him out of the corner of her eye, winding it up. "Atleast with getting beaten down by monks I never had to worry much about it. Just memorized the bruise-rainbow to figure where I was in the healing process."

Barengar Armsbreaker snorts, "Findin' yerself fightin' wit' Blackblade of'en then." he shook his head slowly, grumbling under his breath as he concentrates on making sure the wrapping was secure enough to apply  proper pressure without cutting off circulation wholesale. As soon as he was satisfied with his work he looked up toward Shana, "How's tha' feelin'?"

Shana Deftarm flexed her arm, wrapping her hand around the bandage. "Seems well enough to me." She sat up a bit straighter, stretching out her shoulders without getting up. "Don't feel it so much, now. Still feels like we tangled up with the wrong side of a bear."

Barengar Armsbreaker stifled a single chuckle as he set the roll of bandages down beside Shana, the sound rumbling as it was caught in his throat. He rolled his left shoulder back once again before scooting on the floor such that he could stretch out his legs. They weren't being terribly agreeable. "Bein' righ' honest I'd be less keen on tanglin' wit' a bear than one o' those machines."

Barengar Armsbreaker flicks his gaze over to Shana, "Bears get angry. Desperate. Machines're bein' as consistent as ya c'n get. Makes fightin' 'em less o' a game of wits, supposin' ya know what yer gettin' inta."

Shana Deftarm smiled, giving her arm one more flex. "You're right... at least with a bear you can see how much it wants you dead," she wrinkled her nose like she'd caught scent of something bad. "But those machines, there's nothing there. I don't like helmets or masks for that reason." She picked at the edge of her jerkin, finding a new hole where something had tried to stab her and missed. "I want to see their eyes. I want them to see mine." Shana let go of another sigh, leaning back. "Sounds, odd I know."

Barengar Armsbreaker pressed his lips into a thin line as he listened, his head bobbing to the side slightly, "Ain't feelin' the same 'bout it m'self." he grunted, "But I figure ya ain't the only one." There was a brief pause, his eyes wandering over to the open sky as he further considered her words, "Supposin' it's dependin' on 'oo I'd be fightin'."

Barengar Armsbreaker: "Some plucks jus' ain't worth frettin' o'er."

Shana Deftarm: "They're not. It's just," Shana started, then shrugged. "They won't think a second after I fall, I know that much. But I can hope. Maybe that split second, they'll regret what put us there together." She held up a hand, pinching together two of her fingers. "Its different here working. There's nothing between me n' whoever we got paid to take care of... but each time I take the lance up I think about fighting to stay alive back in Gyr Abania. Even when I'm a world away from that bloody conflict."

Barengar Armsbreaker continued to linger his gaze upon the skies, his expression a thoughtful one as he listened to Shana. A quiet hum of consideration rumbled within his chest before his voice quelled it and rose to offer his own words in reply, "Ain't a stranger ta tha' feelin'." he admitted quietly, "Spent a lot time simply jus' tryin' ta stay alive."

Shana Deftarm: "We all do in our own way." Shana answered, as she continued to poke at the hole she'd found. "And it looks like we came out the otherside, mostly whole if alittle scarred." She smiled, a hand coming up to touch the scar on her face. "I don't mind them much; its just the healing that's bothersome." She glanced at him, cocking her head to the side. "Just have to make sure you get the most out of your time."

Barengar Armsbreaker lifts his chin slightly, eyes locked upon the stars that twinkled within the sky. It would seem that Shana's words had pushed the mercenary into a moment of reverie, his thoughts consuming his attention for a time. A few moments passed by and he took in a deep and slow breath, "Ya ain't wrong about that." he murmured almost to himself. He lifts up a hand and touches it to his own scar upon his face, "Ain't much ta 'em, I figure. Though I ain't got as many as s'me would think of a fella in my line o' work."

Shana Deftarm: "Just mean's you're good at what you do. Or armored." Shana said, less interested in the stars and more at the clouds. She sat quiet for a while, eyes searching the fluffy masses while she traced the ridges in the wood they were sitting on. "... I get worried that the time's coming the more they push to Ala Mhigo. That's a fight that's going to go bloody no matter how many ways it's turned."

Barengar Armsbreaker drums his fingers along the wood of the platform, his tongue clicking off the top of his mouth, "Got a feelin' that ya ain't wrong there, Deftarm, " he grumbled quietly, "Ya'd 'ave ta be right naive not ta see the writin' on the wall." His gaze drops away from the stars and fixated upon the toe of his boot, "Bloody's likely ta be the best o' it. Figure it's gonna give the ol' King o' Ruin a run fer 'is money."

Barengar Armsbreaker: "Rememberin' 'nough o' that ta know that ain't anythin' anyone wants."

Shana Deftarm sighed, looking almost like she was sulking. There was a bitter shadow to her eyes, the smile long gone from her face. "I can wish I was wrong. But we'll see." She blew the hair from her eyes, pushing it back behind her ears yet again. "We'll see what kind of hole the Resistance digs for themselves. Hopefully they don't drag anyone else down on top of them."

Barengar Armsbreaker slowly shifted his gaze over to Shana, eyeing the woman for a silent moment before responding with a low grunt. He rolled his left shoulder back again, thoughts brewing within his mind before they were given voice, "They're gonna be diggin' a hole ta be sure," he deep voice rumbled quietly, "But m'knowin' well 'nough 'ow ta keep m'self from fallin' in." The man dipped his head toward Shana, "Figurin' I could offer ta do the same fer yerself, should I see tha' pit commin' in front o' ya."

Shana Deftarm turned to look at Barengar, quietly studying him. The frown stayed, though it seemed like she was looking through him rather than at him, thoughts running through her head. "... I'd appreciate that. Before I get dragged down after the two idjits running straight in." She chuckled, but it was dry, colder than she usually spoke. "Gods help me, I'm a fool."

Barengar Armsbreaker snorts, his head bobbing to the side slightly, "Gods ain't gonna 'elp anyone. Better ta rely on somethin' ya c'n know'n see." By the look in her eyes he could tell that it was not him that she was looking at, his head tilting back slightly to look up at the cloth covers above viewing platform,  "Only thin' tha' c'n be done is makin' good on the 'and yer bein' delivered. Ain't alway a pretty one."

Shana Deftarm did crack a smile at that, shaking her head. "No. They never did care to help now did they?" She poked at her bandage again. "I keep hoping maybe I'll draw an ace, but all I'm getting are duds. Never saw much point in complaining."

Barengar Armsbreaker dipped his head toward Shana, "Tha's a refreshin' change o' pace, if'n ya ask me." he answered in a nearly wry manner, snorting quietly. Either he was being dismissive or he had just amused himself, it was difficult to say which.

Shana Deftarm chuckled, looking down at the planks. "I mean I could complain, I don't think anyone would care much for a lazy Ala Mhigan refugee that doesn't have the mind or heart to go where she apparently belongs. Rhalgr smite your foes and what not," she waved her hand with a laugh, shaking her head. "No. I'd much rather stay here and carve a life out. Eorzea isn't as bad that it would have me running back to try and capture Ala Mhigo all over again."

Barengar Armsbreaker slowly nodded his head, grumbling quietly to himself, "Ain't gotta remind me o' that." he exhaled sharply, the thought causing him measurable distaste, "Bunch o' plucks gettin' buried in the past." He shook his head, "But I ain't about ta tell anyone else what they oughta do. Ain't my place nor m'inclination." He glanced over at Shana, "Ain't 'as 'ard ta do as s'me would 'ave ya think."

Shana Deftarm: "Time doesn't stop just when you leave a place." Shana muttered to herself, looking down at her hands. "I keep saying it, hoping someone would listen. But they have this idea in their heads that everyone back there is frozen in time, but they moved on without them." She groaned, sitting back on her arms again. She could feel the weakness in the shot arm, already tired. "Maybe it won't sink in until they see what happened when they thought their piece of the world stood still."

Shana Deftarm turned to look at Barengar, neither frowning nor smiling. She just seemed tired. "I can't tell them what they should be doing either but maybe they'll listen when they finally see it, and realize its too late."

Barengar Armsbreaker turned his head, gaze meeting Shana's for a moment with a mirrored stoicism. Though his expression was well schooled there was no doubting his resolve. A slow breath filled his lungs before he simply pulled his arms up from there place behind him and allowed his back go fall back flat against the wooden floor. His attention now forecefully redirected to the sky above once more. "S'my experience tha' folks'll 'ear wha' they wanna believe. But ..." he muttered quietly to himself as his head rolled so that he could look toward her once more, " ... Foolish as I might be thinkin' it ... s'speakin' volumes 'bout yerself that ya stick ta yer convictions in that regard."

Shana Deftarm smiled, sitting up to keep the wound from reopening. "I did say I was a fool," she answered after a while, shaking her head with that same fool grin. She looked at him again as he rested on the platform, cocking her head to the side. "Tired?"

Barengar Armsbreaker grunted quietly in response, lifted his hands to rest them upon his abdomen, eyes following her moments quietly as she shifted about at the behest of her wound. "Surprised that you ain't."

Shana Deftarm: "Hah. Never said I wasn't," Shana chuckled. "I just don't sleep well or easily." She stretched her shoulders again, her good arm over her head. "I don't mind just watching the clouds while you doze."

Barengar Armsbreaker kept his gaze level upon the woman for awhile longer before he simply grunted. He was certain that the woman had her own reasons for finding sleep elusive and he wasn't about to pry into them. Loathe as he was to be the subject of questions himself. "Figure I migh' do that." he grumbled quietly.

Shana Deftarm grinned, looking out at the clouds. "Mm. Rest well, Armsbreaker."

Barengar Armsbreaker grunted once again, though the harshness of the sound of it was dwindling as he began to drift off. Any words that he might have muttered were lost before that left the tip of his tongue.