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#The library itself is great and incredibly child friendly
ace-and-ranty · 1 day
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also like. I love Orion as like. Person who isn’t a person. Child who was born dead. The whole section of the story where he starts straight up subjecting people to eternal torment for attacking El rings strange in contrast with everything else until you remember that his heroics were the byproduct of hunting maleficaria for mana, his actual goal. Guy who’s whole personality was built over a sinkhole that finally caved in. Lost all his morals
Ooohhh, I feel like this is a good time to use this quote from Naomi's AMA...
"(...) Once Orion does register El, he fairly quickly realizes that she is the kind of person he wants to be. Everyone around Orion constantly is telling him he's a hero, and meanwhile he's mostly just doing what comes incredibly naturally to him and thinking "this is great, I get to hunt all the time, and I'm a hero! :D" and meeting El and being forced to look at the system that has made him a hero and its unfairnesses makes him start to realize that he wants to truly be a hero, that this is something that he wants to choose, the hard and moral path (...)"
And also this quote from The Golden Enclaves...
“It’s both of you,” Shanfeng said. “You, and the child Ophelia made. The boy we heard about from our own children as they came out of the Scholomance each year of the last four. The boy who saved the lives of others, who took no payment, and paid no attention to which enclave they were from. Ophelia got—not the hero she wanted, but the hero she deserved.”
And of course this delicious nugget from The Lat Graduate:
The words are even engraved on the stairway railings and the upper molding of the library reading room, those precise words: to offer sanctuary and protection to all the wise-gifted children of the world, only absolutely nobody ever took them seriously. (...) Except, apparently, the Scholomance itself.
Orion and the Scholomance as parallels is absolute crack to me. Selfish machinations of powerful enclavers; run on the death of countless children; and told a beautiful golden lie that they believed in so hard, they built that lie into their true selves.
(With a little help from your friendly neighborhood mass-destruction witch :)
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donuts4evry1 · 2 years
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I have a confession to make:
So I like to read books for my cousin. Reading is fun.
At the library, this bok caught her attention(because it was a cut glittery pink kitten haha) and I thought "oh, this will be a cute book"
NO.
IT ABSOLUTELY RIPPED MY HEART TO SHREDS I ALMOST BROKE DOWN SOBBING OVER THE DINNER TABLE OH. MY GOD.
Funny enough I don't want to spoil anything about the book so I'll just leave my commentary under the cut. It's a genuinely good read and I recommend it to everyone
This book follows a little kitten trying her very hardest to be a unicorn. Every time she makes a change to be more like a unicorn she is satisfied with herself, but her friends(?) Parakeet and Gecko keep telling her that she's too feline to be a unicorn.
And she tries to be confident but it's all shattered when an actual unicorn comes by in all of his unicorn-y glory. And she is heartbroken, because she could never compare to the magestic unicorn.
but there's a twist.
The unicorn explains to kitty that he isn't actually a unicorn- but a Kittycorn.
And Kitty brightens up immediately.
They end up bonding over their shared characteristics and it's all in all amazing and wholesome and at the end they cuddle and their shadows merge into a heart because they are not dissimilar anymore.
Anyways I think this story just. Resonated with me. As an allegorical children's picture book, it's intentionally vague and up to interpretation, but here's how it Resonated with me:
A lot of times, I'm comfortable in my birth gender. It was what I was born with, and I know it well.
Other times I don't feel anything towards it.
And during those times, I feel like I don't fit into anything at all. I can pass as masculine granted I wear clothes that aren't mine, but my mannerisms and voice are too feminine to truly pass. I'm stuck in between identities.
Every now and then I'll look into the mirror and feel. Disappointed. The person in the mirror isn't... good enough.
This subsided when I cut my hair but it's growing long again, and the feeling is starting to creep back.
I think the story showing an individual coming to terms with and celebrating the the "in between" is something I really wanted to see. Kitty isn't entirely a cat, nor is she entirely a unicorn. And it's shown not just to be ok- but to be wonderful. Unicorn, her original "goal", also having a journey similar to Kitty's is insanely heartwarming too and what really started tugging at the tear ducts.
Am I a girl? Am I a boy? Am I gender fluid? Am I a genderqueer? I'm a cis girl who wants to present masculine, or am I androgynous? Am I something not even on this list?
I have a lot of experimenting to do if I want to go to the bottom of this, but the bottom line is that I feel a little off inside of my own body, and seeing a cat go through a journey somewhat similar to mine makes me kind of. Emotional.
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eggwatchi · 3 years
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The Astrological Houses Challenge part 3/12
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* The Third House of Twelve *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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THE THIRD HOUSE
"The third House is that of communication, which by extension includes one's immediate environment: siblings, neighbors, short journeys. The 3rd house also includes the intellect, the mind, thinking patterns, and early education. Communication includes messages, deliveries, gossip, phone calls, visits, reading and writing."
Since the third house is a comfortable place for Gemini energy, and Gemini is ruled by Mercury, let's pretend this sim is also influenced that way. This adds duality, versatility, communication and a quick-thinking mind.
Traits: Geek, Genius, Outgoing
Aspiration: Best Selling Author
Career: Social Media (Public Relations Branch) (basegame-Writer-Journalist Branch)
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Read more about this sim and challenge below! ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
What Will Their Life Be Like?
You're playing as a sim who's life revolves around Communication, the good and the bad.
Your parent worked hard to provide for you and your twin, but you often felt you weren't of much value to them. You entertained eachother by telling stories all night, and making fun of your parent's materialism! You grew up to be a social butterfly, who's sharp mind isn't easily satisfied! You and your twin are also known as the leaders of the most popular group of Brainiac's. The most impressive member of your group caught your eye from day one, and the rest was history, you just clicked, then came marriage! As a parent, you were always teaching your toddler something, hoping they may one day be your prodigy. One day, tragedy strikes when you get a frantic call from your twin's spouse, saying your twin has suddenly died! You abandon everything, including your spouse and child, move into your sibling's place to study their ghost, and dedicate your life to reviving your twin. History repeats itself as you are now the self-involved parent you swore not to be.
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GOALS
Move to a different world than your twin, you may use freerealestate or use family money
Call your twin everyday
Have a club of Genius's that you or your twin are the leader of (basegame-have a group)
Marry a member of your club who is in the Education Career (basegame-Astronaut career)
When your child is a Toddler, read to them everyday or teach them skills.
When your child ages up from a Toddler to a Child, your sibling must die in the next three days.
When your sibling dies, you abandon your marriage and child, which ruins your relationship with each of them. You move in with your twin's spouse, and quit your job. You spend your time Writing or Researching, in hopes of writing your own book of life to bring back your twin as soon as possible.
Purchase the Great Storyteller Reward (basegame-speed reader)
Purchase Incredibly Friendly reward trait
Master the Research and Debate skill (basegame-logic)
Master the Writing skill
Gain the People Person Lifestyle (base-game Have many friends that you always keep up with)
Complete the Best Selling Author Aspiration
Bring your sibling back to life with the Book of Life after completing your aspiration!
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OPTIONAL ASPECTS:
SPECIAL COLOUR: Yellow
APPEARANCE: Symmetrical Face, Curvy or Slender Body, Long Nose, Youthful Look
REQUIRED GENETICS/SPOUSE: Round Face, Pale or Luminous Eyes, Carries Weight in The Middle
THE NEXT HEIR: Born in the Summer
DEATH: This Sim took their life in their mouth and ate a highly toxic fish. Has a pufferfish inside the body to show the type of death. (requires CL)
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CREDITS
A lot of my info is from The Only Astrology Book You Will Ever Need
My House Descriptions are from Astro Library
The cute Astrology wheel I am using is by DearHoroscope
I was watching this youtube video by Rosebud when they mentioned a Zodiac Legacy Challenge by Cowplant-Pizza! This instantly gave me the idea to combine the houses/signs/planets into a challenge! I’m avoiding reading through there’s as to not influence my own challenge but from what I’ve skimmed so far it looks amazing and I can’t wait to try it out!
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OPTIONAL MODS:
The Personality Mod By MissyHissy allows you to make this sim a Knowledge Sim with a custom reward trait
The Zodiac Signs Mod By Radiophobe allows you to make this Sim a Gemini with a custom reward trait
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prinxlyart · 4 years
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Beforehand, I'm sorry for not giving you a rest xDU -.-U: So, you mentioned begorr that Emira and Viney considered having children but Emira was reluctant because of her (not-redeemed) parents. I would like know their point of view then AND after the Blight parents redeemed themselves
Ooof this is a toughie. Hmmmmm let’s see
I think the question was first brought up on accident, yknow, by like a complete stranger trying to make nice conversation in all the wrong ways. Like, maybe Amity still, after all these years, loves to read to kids at the library. She’s good at it, the kids love her, and she doesn’t have to worry about anything except making sure those kids have a good time.
And maybe it’s during one of those reading sessions that Emira and Viney also happen to be in the library researching something when they pass by the Kiddie Corner and see Amity reading to those kids and they both hide behind a bookcase and just coo at how adorable the sight is. After a minute they start to get comfortable watching Amity read to the kids and they both have warm goofy smiles on their faces until suddenly someone comes up next to them and whispers “they’re so cute, aren’t they?” And they see what looks like one of the kid’s parents next to them also watching the story telling. Emira and Viney agree, it’s probably the cutest thing in all of the Boiling Isles (certainly the most wholesome). Then this parent whispers again, “which one’s yours? Mine’s the little guy with the horns.” And Viney and Emira just freeze because oops, they’ve been mistaken as parents. They both blush and stammer for a bit and explain they’re actually just related to the story-teller and the parent apologizes and they day continues. But that interaction is on both of their minds for the entire rest of the day.
Viney’s never considered kids seriously before; she has her beasts to take care of and those usually aren’t kid-friendly. But she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about teaching children about how to handle different kinds of creatures. Besides, she’s also a Healing witch, (most) any damage can be patched up with a quick spell. But teaching kids and actually raising one are two totally different things. And the interaction from the library had left her feeling strangely warm all the rest of the day. Would she be okay with actually having kids with Emira? Maybe. That answer by itself is already scary enough - they’ve only been married for less than a year, but that doesn’t stop the misunderstanding from the library from making her feel warm and fuzzy and a little bit giddy.
In the meantime, Emira’s having a silent meltdown within her own head. All alarms are going off like a Shale Hail storm was rampaging through her mind. Her, a mother? She’d spent her entire life trying to get away from her own mother; she couldn’t even begin to imagine herself in that role. Her thoughts were racing the entire day following the library incident and it left a gross feeling in her chest and a queasiness in her stomach. She didn’t even know if she really liked kids let alone liking them enough to want one of her own. And what if she fucks it up just like her parents did??? She and Viney are just getting their Service Creature business off the ground - she is not about to be an absent mother like her own to focus on her work. That thought alone is enough to keep her feeling slightly off-kilter the entire rest of the day.
I think they talk about it that night in great length; their fears, their concerns, their dream-scenarios, Emira’s parents. That’s when the convo gets especially hard as Emira’s stutter starts making it more difficult for her to articulate herself before she just breaks down entirely. Viney reassured her that they don’t have to make any decisions right that instant, it’s just a thought they’d both been plagued by all day. They could have that conversation again when they felt they might be ready for it.
Of course the following year and a half is a whirlwind of helping Amity get hitched to her girls and messy makeups with the Blight parents. And even after that giant wedding is over, Alador and Odalia are still learning how to make amends and it puts Emira in a weird headspace. Not to mention she’s concerned about her twin brother living alone. He hates being alone. He was the one that insisted he move into a single-room apartment but that doesn’t stop Emira from worrying over her twin. She still had a hard time wrapping her head around the whole aromantic thing, especially since she knew Edric thrived off being around other people.
She was especially worried now that they’ve been trying to repair their severely broken relationship with their parents; they’ve both been a little emotionally turbulent. They took Camilia’s suggestion of seeking out a therapist (as a human healer she doesn’t need to worry about the magic side of things and they consider her quite practical as a result. Also, she’s Luz’s mom and is basically the best woman in the world, of course they’d take her advice).
I think it takes several years of the Blights all working hard to fix their family relationship before Viney brings up how one of their clients had asked about a kids class; maybe a single session where they go over the basics of different creatures and how to approach them (if you should even approach them at all) before allowing them to try on one of the more docile creatures they have. I think she tries to bring it up as casually as possible; I think ever since that first conversation they had, Viney’s kinda tiptoed around the concept of kids in general around Emira.
They’d talked about her fears and what caused her to meltdown during that first conversation of course, and they talk about how therapy has been working for Emira and her family. But Viney hasn’t brought up them having their own kids since that first conversation, even though she’s been feeling a hint of longing in the depths of her heart recently as she watches parents interact with their own kids (of course sometimes that’s exactly what also stifles that longing - there are some parents that look dead on their feet with their screaming child throwing a tantrum on the ground).
But they discuss the idea of hosting a weekly or monthly class for kids without issue and Viney just waits....I think until maybe the following night to bring up the idea of being parents themselves again. And I think it still scares Emira absolutely shitless. She doesn’t break down the way she did the first time but she does start going into brief panic spirals before Viney pulls her out of them. Viney reassured her that again, they don’t need to decide anything right then and there, it’s just something she’s been thinking about recently.
I think Emira takes the thought to therapy with her and she and her therapist really work through what’s bothering her about the concept of her being a mother. And it takes a while. Like, several months. But in that time, Emira’s slowly warming herself up to the idea of being a parent. She constantly reminds herself that she isn’t going to behave like her parents had. She’s not going to get too tired of them and wave them away or push expectations onto any child of hers by the time they’re 6. She’s going to love whatever child they might have with her entire heart. She’s still scared.
I think her actual breakthrough is with a conversation with Camila and Eda. They’re both Luz’s moms (kind of? Mostly? In everything but like, legal documents? Like Eda’s 9/10’s of the way there so she’s basically Luz’s mom) and Emira’s witnessed how much they both love Luz over the years that she’s known them. She wants to learn how to love any potential future kids like they love Luz. Hearing this actually shocks Camila and Eda; they’ve watched Emira grow up into an incredibly kind and caring witch - of course she’d be an amazing mother. But then they listen to her fears of falling back on her own parents’ shitty parenting tactics just because that’s what she grew up with and they reassure her that she’s not her parents.
Camila and Eda make their own points from their own perspectives. Camila describes how it felt like the universe was crashing around her when she found out she was pregnant with Luz. How she was frightened beyond anything that had happened in her life up to that point. She was a medical student!!! She didn’t have time to take care of a baby! But then she also couldn’t bring herself to terminate the pregnancy. She didn’t know why, but she was already deeply in love and attached to the little bundle of cells rapidly dividing in her uterus. The thought of being a part of such an impossible thing as creating an entirely new person was overwhelming and exciting. She somehow convinced herself that she could handle it. She’s a hard-working woman with probably too much pride to admit that she bit off more than she could chew, but she felt like she had something to prove.
Camila explains how emotionally tumultuous she’d been in the following....probably 5 years? There were times when she could turn her thoughts off and just focus on what was important: making sure the baby was taken care of and making sure she got all her homework done on time. But then there would be moments of peace and tranquillity where her only concern was making sure Luz didn’t hurt herself while she played where her emotions would take over like a tsunami. Ironically enough, Luz would always notice, even as a baby, and motion for her mom to pick her up so she could snuggle into her mom’s neck in her version of a hug. Camila would try to hold back her tears in those moments, but whenever Luz raised her arms up at her with a frown on her face, her heart would warm up so much it felt like it was nearly on fire and those tears would just start flowing freely. Luz loved her and she loved Luz and that was enough for Camila to know she’d made the right choice for her life and to keep pressing forward.
She worried every single step of the way that she was doing something wrong (whether or not she had a partner/family members/friends helping her) and nothing rocked her world more than being introduced to the Demon Realm after thinking her daughter had been somewhere else entirely for a whole summer.
She had wrestled with that for months afterwards; the guilt that she hadn’t done more to help Luz thrive in her own home the way she did on the Boiling Isles. That somehow it was her fault for not being able to magically make everything work in her daughter’s favor. That she maybe could’ve somehow singlehandedly change the entire system to benefit Luz the way it did the other kids so she wouldn’t have felt so lost and alone that she needed to go to the Demon Realm to feel like she belonged somewhere.
It had taken several talks with Eda (after they stopped hating each other) for her to accept that she had done everything she could with what she had. None of it was solely her fault, but she probably could’ve listened to Luz’s unspoken/misunderstood needs more carefully.
She emphasizes to Emira that the most important thing to take away from all of that is that no matter what happens, she just needs to love and provide for her child as much as she possibly can. And to always listen to them; they won’t always know how to articulate their needs so it’s up to the parent to help them figure it out. Love and patience, which she notes that Emira has plenty of.
Eda’s perspective is vastly different because she didn’t even consider being a mother for the large majority of her life until suddenly there was a teenager camping out in a spare room in her house that she used for miscellaneous storage. And it wasn’t something that happened overnight either; she didn’t just wake up one day and think “today’s the day I’m going to start loving Luz as if she was my own daughter”, like, that thought literally never crossed her mind. It really didn’t hit her just how much Luz meant to her until the first instance with Belos; Luz being kidnapped by Eda’s own sister and nearly dying kinda makes you really think about how important a person is to you. She didn’t realize how much Luz being in her life made her feel like she was part of a family until Luz said so just before she was sent to be petrified. It took Luz saying it point blank to her face with tears in her eyes while Eda was essentially on death row for it to click in her head that she loved Luz like a daughter. That she would do anything to keep her safe and happy.
And as un-versed as she is in being an actual mom, she was relatively well-versed in how to handle Luz as a teenager because she saw so much of herself in her. She didn’t have the previous 14 years of Luz’s life coloring her opinions and expectations of her; all she saw was a young, weird girl that wanted nothing more than to learn magic even though all odds were stacked against her. Eda emphasizes that as kids become teenagers, it’s important to treat them with respect and to let them know their voices are heard.
A parent may want to hide them away so they can be safe from the world, but then they’ll never grow. She idly comments how she just treated Luz how she would’ve wanted to be treated at her age: like an equal. Eda emphasizes to Emira that respecting children is a huge part of being an effective parent, at least in her experience.
Emira takes all of this in stride; thanks to her siblings and their friends, she’s learned a lot over the years about how to be a kind and compassionate witch. She returns to Viney that day feeling infinitely better about the concept. Now it’s just a matter of discussing whether or not they’re ready in every other aspect besides emotionally.
Eventually they get there. It takes some encouragement from Edric and Amity (and by extension, Luz and Willow) as well as Jerbo and Barcus (between them, Edric and Gus? This kid will have the coolest uncle-squad ever), but Emira and Viney do find a point in their lives where they’re excited and ready about having kids.
Again, I’m not one for coming up with fan kids. Far too many possibilities. Last time I made fan kids was maybe ten years ago so I’m super rusty anyway. But I know for a fact that any children they have had essentially a small army of adults ready to love them. How would they get those kids? Again, far too many possibilities. Maybe one or both of them are trans and capable of biological reproduction! Maybe they decide to go the Magic Route! Maybe they adopt! I truly don’t know. All I know is that once they are ready to have kids, they’re so fuckin hyped it’s all they can think or talk about for months until they finally have one. And they will love that child so fiercely, that child will never feel for even a moment that they’re unloved.
(All grandparents involved are over the moon; the Blight grandparents actually cry for like an hour straight the first time they meet their first grand baby and spoil them like nothing else; Viney’s parent(s) don’t cry as much as the Blights, but they do cry a lot and are the kind of grandparent(s) that secretly try to give that kid their first sip of (boiling isles equivalent) soda, candy, etc., just to give Viney and Emira a hard time. Eda and Camila [and Willow’s dads] are honorary grandparents that also love and adore this kid.)
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star-anise · 6 years
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Thank you! My actual question is, what is trauma? Particularly trauma that doesn't stem from a single Traumatic Event (TM) -- like, trauma that comes from years of being treated as a "gifted" child, or from developing a disability slowly and quietly rather than in some big accident, or other non-obvious sources. What is trauma, what does it do to someone, why can two people go through the same shit and one comes out traumatised and the other does not? This is a big and vague question I know.
Yeah, “trauma” as a concept is kind of confusing because people think that to be traumatic, something has to be dramatic. And it doesn’t. In point of fact, when my province did its public messaging campaign for trauma-informed care, they completely replaced the word “trauma” with “toxic stress”.
This is gonna get long. For further reading, I’d suggest looking at the Child Trauma Academy’s Trauma and PTSD Library. And it will sound at the beginning like I’m answering some different question than yours, but I promise, I am.
The root of trauma is in the stress response system. When our body interprets something as a threat, it activates the stress response system; our system floods with adrenaline, heart rate goes up, breathing quickens, the brain diverts energy away from centres of higher thought and into immediate physical motion, your liver releases glucose your digestive system slows down, all that stuff. This is called “arousal” but it means stress arousal, not sexual arousal. And then, after the threat has passed, your body works to return you to normal; it releases cortisol to calm you down, your heart goes back to normal, your digestion goes back to normal, you are calmed and soothed.
The first major cause of stress after birth is being hungry. The stomach hurts; we’re in pain; we become stressed and cry. And ideally, someone will come, pick us up, and feed, rock, soothe, and make noises at us until we stop crying and become calm again. If we receive adequate care--that is, if we experience thousands of repetitions of being alarmed and in pain, having the pain go away, and being soothed--our brain records a basic set point of “most of the time I do not need to be alarmed, but when I am alarmed, it probably won’t be for long and I’ll get what I need to calm down again.”
Our brains don’t differentiate well between physical and emotional pain, between something that happens to us and something that happens to others. What makes a baby scream in hunger is the same basic mechanism as what happens when someone experiences a dramatic trauma.
The really big, important step, is when the body goes back to normal. When you are calmed and soothed. The parasympathetic nervous system kicks in; the body releases cortisol; heart rate, breathing, and blood pressure go back to normal; digestion resumes; higher brain functions go back online. 
Trauma is what happens when this doesn’t occur--your body tries to soothe itself, but it isn’t enough to fully work. Maybe the stressor is still present so the stress response keeps happening; maybe there aren’t enough resources to become soothed by. Instead the body is alarmed to the point of exhaustion. An aroused stress response is an incredibly taxing state, sucking down resources at an enormous rate while preventing the generation of new ones. So for an adult this could be a big shock that they can’t get over; for a baby, it could be not being fed, not being soothed, or being in constant pain. 
Trauma is, basically, a stress response that wakes up easily and then takes a long time to settle down again after. It’s the brain trying to anticipate a dangerous world where something bad happens and you need to be quick to respond to it, and maybe be prepared for a long siege where you need to maintain that response for quite some time. 
It works differently for kids because we actually need a lot of help to cope with stress initially. We spend a long time helpless, unable to walk or talk, completely dependent on a caregiver to eat and handle threats. The repetition of being soothed by a caregiver slowly builds up the neural capacity to deal with threats. We use our sense of connection with other people, and our own mastery over the world, to help deal with with stress. This is why hurt children want to be soothed by their caregiver, specifically, and why that caregiver kissing an injury to make it feel better works. Rejection is painful because on a basic level, our brains associate it with not having the resources to handle pain.
So there are a lot of thing that can either deprive a child of adequate resources to handle stress, or create a stressful stimuli too great to be soothed. Which are kind of the same thing, except: there are harmful or inadequate environments that would be guaranteed to over-stress and fail to soothe a vast number of children; and there are children who become so stressed they require a level of soothing much greater than what would be adequate for most other kids. An almost universally neglectful environment might be infants in an old-fashioned orphanage, where babies are fed on a rigid schedule, rarely held, rocked, or soothed, and not responded to when they cry; those suckers are almost guaranteed to fuck up any infant raised within them. (If it survives.) Meanwhile, a child that is difficult to soothe might for some reason have levels of pain it would require painkillers to take away, or might be distressed by things their caregiver doesn’t know to control, like an autistic child who is distressed by the fabric of their blanket or the electric hum of household equipment, which many neurotypical people would never guess could be distressing.
So some of those predispositions might be genetic, but then they get compounded by early life experience. For example, my nephew was allergic to his infant formula; he screamed way more than your average baby and was much harder to soothe, until his parents and their doctor figured out what was going on. After that, he was a much happier baby. If they hadn’t figured out what was going on, and he’d spent maybe a year being constantly distressed with nothing to soothe it, it probably would have moved his stress response system a little closer to “easily activated and hard to soothe”.
You know how when plastic gets hot, it gets all melty and can be put into a bunch of different shapes? And then when it cools down, you can flex it a little but not reshape it entirely? That’s what is meant when neuroscientists say the brain is plastic. When we’re born, our genetics play a little into the shape that our brains take, but our environment has just as much ability to shape our brains. The brain can be optimized for learning English or learning Chinese, to being happy and easily soothed or for responding to constant, unremitting stress. And as we grow older, the plastic cools off. A lot of your stress response system’s basic set point is decided by the age of 3, and much harder to change thereafter. The window for learning any new language easily and flawlessly closes in elementary school; after that, as we age, it gets harder and harder. The adult brain solidifies, so it can flex but is hard to totally reshape.
Part of childhood trauma is also the failure to learn skills during a critical period for learning them. If a child isn’t exposed to any language by the age of 7, they are deeply unlikely to learn how to speak naturally and fluently later in life. And almost everything that differentiates adulthood from childhood is a learned skill, including staying calm, paying attention, solving problems, making friends, and socializing. They’re like muscles; they have to be used for them to grow from their initial promise, their basic genetic gift, to being large, strong, and capable of doing things.
So the younger you are, you see, the more subtle a trauma can be; the stress response system is so much weaker when we’re young. It is shaped not just by huge things, but little ones: How predictably we’re fed when we cry. Whether the adults around us are grieving or fearful. If we’re allowed to feel safe when we leave the house. If the people we encounter are friendly or hostile. Whether we can reliably meet the standards for being considered “good”. How often we encounter rejection.  The hope is that, as you age, you can handle bigger and bigger stresses, because stress response is to some degree a skill; I can handle a skinned knee more easily than my 3-year-old nephew can.
But both genetics and that early life set-point can determine how likely we are to be traumatized anew by later events. If your stress system is already prone to being aroused way before other peoples’, and much slower to calm down, you’re much more likely to both be stressed by new events, and to fail to calm down totally after. The stresses pile up. Your stress response system, bless its little heart, thinks that the response to more stress is MORE VIGILANCE, and it takes a lot of very deliberate work, environmental change, and possibly medication to calm it back down again. (A frequent medication for traumatized children is clonidine, which reduces blood pressure, because it helps reset their bodies to “less stressed”)
And then if our bodies leave us in a state of chronic stress, we can often fail to do the things that help us recover from it later. If a child is constantly stressed and anxious, it may make it harder for them to make friends; then when they���re pushed off the swing at recess while the teacher’s back was turned, they’re less likely to have friends who will notice or react with care, concern, or help. If they feel totally embittered by school as a whole, they may be more likely to drop out, meaning they don’t have the educational qualifications that would give them home, food, and medical care. It can be a really vicious downward spiral.
So: 
Trauma from big shit as an adult is essentially the same as trauma from little shit when you’re a kid. To a baby, social isolation equals death, and it takes a long time to learn otherwise. 
Two people can experience the same thing and have very different reactions because of combination of genetics and life experiences
 One of those differences can be perception of threat, so they are more likely to find something distressing than others
Another can be difficulty with distress tolerance and self-soothing, so they are much less able to return from distress to a feeling of wellbeing and calm.
Adverse early experiences can set you up for a negative downward spiral
Lack of positive shaping experiences as a child can leave you without important skills for health and growth, and those skills can be much harder to learn later in life.
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twitchesandstitches · 6 years
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Crossthicc AU - The Basics
Those of you who followed my original blog are likely familiar with my various AUs, and my main one, for the moment, is a megacrossover starring characters from a bunch of my favorite series as part of a large fleet in a space opera/high tech fantasy setting, going across the multiverse and many planes of existence fighting monsters, demons and warlords while in search of a planet to call home, as all of them seek a new homeworld since most of them have nowhere to go back to.
My main name for it, at least for now, is Crossthicc AU; it’s a massive fusion crossover (that is, instead of being from different worlds, they are AU’d into ways so they fit together and could reasonably exist in a cohesive setting) with a tone of epic high adventure with transformations and action, and everyone is massively curvy. Some of my other AUs will be involved in this as well, albeit a bit reworked to fit.
An informal, easy-going bunch, their crew doesn’t have a hierarchy in a traditional sense but they do have a number of people who have a great deal of influence and respect, whom in some senses serve as the ‘main characters’ of the fleet. The emphasis is important; any character in the fleet can serve as a character for stories, so no random person is without their own fun adventures.
One of these people, Sierra from Total Drama Island and reimagined here as a Borderlands-style Vault Hunter who fangirls over these other heroes that have joined the crew, wields a powerful relic called the Eupeptic Gestat. This artifact can transform into huge weapons based on what she infuses it with, gaining new magic based on that, and is generally very similar to the Keyblade from Kingdom Hearts, though with a twist: it’s powers are themed around vore (consuming and digestion, both metaphorically and literally) and pregnancy (giving massive amount of birth, unbirthing other to heal or modify them, and more abstract forms of creation).
With this relic, which otherwise isn’t all that powerful, Sierra and her new fleet have found ways to stockpower entire superpower suites from their foes and allies, acquire physical traits and abilities from aliens and monsters, and from this dross of potential, have fashioned means of transmuting them into entirely new superpowers and modifications to their own bodies. They can give themselves superpowers, at the price of literally constructing them and unpredictable mutations and drawbacks to those powers, even adding multiple ones to combine them into new abilities altogether!
Sometimes these powers are focused in the fertile bodies of their crewmates, other times they are fashioned into small trinkets such as coins or accessories that must be infused into people with the use of other machines, and sometimes they are made into drinks that give you power by chugging them down. These powers run the gamut of all possible abilities, but almost universal are devouring powers, hyper fertility that makes them stronger for each child they have birthed or sired, and growing larger.
As a result of infusions of power from the Gestat, many modifications and the crew developing the ability to mold their bodies as they please, they are almost universally hyper curvy; breast sizes smaller than their heads are completely unheard of, their hips are normally wider than door frames, and so many of the crew are pregnant with dozens of children at any given time that their architecture accommodates these body frames. With each child they birth, these women grow larger, curvier and stronger, and in their sheer numbers, it's fair to say that the fleet is considered to be a pack of flotillas of ravenous MILFs. Even smaller warriors tend to wind up with that body shape.
Some of the crew, whether by coming from species that are naturally large or have developed appropriate powers, are so gigantic that they are hundreds, if not thousands of feet tall. Sometimes they are shrunk to more manageable sizes, growing bigger once they hit planetside, or when battle calls. And other times, these giantesses wear the fleet itself as living clothing!
They have created many strange monstrous allies; some of these are the digital denizens of cyberspace within their memory banks, some of them are pocket monsters that traveled on another fleeing a world of light. And others have been literally created by our heroes, or perhaps gestated with the use of powers that allow them to spontaneously generate monsters from their bodies. Still others have summoned powerful allies from the deepest realms of creation into themselves, giving birth to them in exchange for gaining access to their abilities to the benefit of the fleet.
Generally the fleet are monster hunters. In the wake of a terrible cataclysm that almost ended the multiverse eons ago, incredibly fierce monsters with almost no mind but insatiable bloodlust have poured out, like sickness from an open wound, into the world and laying waste to all they encounter. They come in countless forms, seeming to grow larger as they devour hapless victims, quickly growing kaiju-sized and then even becoming as big as entire planets, and going from world to world with billions of more monster-forms to seed them with, annihilated entire solar systems and continually growing bigger. They can resemble horrible reptilian brutes, fishlike terrors bursting with tentacles, insectoid mishmashes, and it seems they take on the attributes of what they kill like trophies… or perhaps like some abilities of the Gestat itself. The fleet worries about this possible connection, even as they swallow those monsters whole.
The fleet hunts them, partly for food and mainly as a profession, and their tactics, weaponry and skills all excel at taking them down, whether in giant mechs, growing to huge size themselves, or just dropping a habitat-class ship on them.
Of late, they have run across evidence of a grand conspiracy that hints that something is behind those monsters, and may have engineered the cataclysm that beset the universe all those eons ago. In the process they have made many enemies of countless conspiracies, collecting them like a hobby, and this grand enemy appears to notice them and is pulling the strings of many forces, and now one of their puppets is after the fleet: the Imperial Commonwealth of Humanity, an oxymoronic and cruel society that worships humanity and would enslave or wipe out all other forms of life. NEedless to say they’re a bunch of jerks that mostly end up digesting in the crew or have their souls recycled into better lifetimes, but they are very numerous and constantly making life annoying for the crew.
They’ve also made a number of rivals. Mostly friendly are a group of space pirates mostly led by friends and rivals of the fleet’s founders, who have absconded with treasures that rival the Gestat in potential, and compete with the fleet to slay monsters, get hired for cool missions, and get to sweet treasures before they do. Less friendly is an organization of warmongers, led by an ancient soldier from a bygone time, which has seen the multiverse’s current state and believe it is unfit to survive some unspecified disaster they have predicted. ACcordingly, they intend to engulf the multiverse in war to force the survivors to survive and deserve their strength. And finally there is a powerful ship of the Imperial Commonwealth, like Star Trek’s Enterprise gone full Warhammer 40k, crewed by humans from a supremacist empire who seek to conquer all non-human beings and may directly serve the mystery conspiracy.
The fleet’s ultimate goal is to discover the secret of terraforming; while ancient technologies that accomplish this are known, it's unclear HOW they do it, and the fleet badly want to know this secret so they can simply create ideal worlds for their people to call permanent home. To this end they seek out an ancient library-world, somewhere within the multiverse, which is said to hold records of all things that have ever been, including theories and schematics of technologies from lost civilizations. They hope to find this library, earn the secret of terraforming, and finally build themselves new worlds they can, at least, come home to.
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sulevinblade · 6 years
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OC Interview Meme
Tagged by: @mocha-writes (hopefully it tags you properly this time? But still, THANK YOU!!)
I’ll tag: @gremlinquisitor ofc, and anyone else who wants to do it! I don’t know who all among you may have already done it for your OCs but I love reading these!!
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Since I did Ghilanel here, this one will be with Varevas. I’m... sorry, about him.
1. What is your name?
“You’ve lost my confidence with the very first question.”
2. What is your real name?
“Varevas, First of Clan Lavellan and Lord Inquisitor. I should make you use the entire thing for the duration as penance for not doing the least amount of background research.”
3. Do you know why you were called that?
“The end of it is just titles, of course, and I’m called those because I earned them, more or less. My given name is a variation of one given to at least one child in every generation of our clan in order to ensure someone carries our freedom forward. But no pressure.”
4. Are you single or taken?
“I am taken, frequently and to great mutual satisfaction.”
5. Have any abilities or powers?
“I love hearing them called powers because the implication is I went to bed one night unable to conjure a great fist of stone out of the loose Fade energy pouring from the rifts and then woke up able to do so. Maybe that’s how it looks to people who don’t possess magic of their own. I have many abilities, learned and honed through time and training. I have one power and that is closing rifts. I had nothing to do with that.”
6. Stop being a Mary Sue.
“I have no idea who that is.”
7. What’s your eye color?
“Green, light green.”
8. How about your hair color?
“Dark red. I’m thinking of growing it out.”
9. Have you any family members?
“My mother was killed by human bandits but my father is still alive, and I have one younger brother and a cousin with whom I’m quite close.”
10. Oh? What about pets?
“No, but recently we were in the Emerald Graves and I found a handful of caterpillars all climbing on some sort of communal nest or cocoon site. I didn’t really think anything of it and no one there knew what kind they were or if they were dangerous, but they did seem to respond to the sound of our voices. It was as though it startled them, but it looked like they were dancing, so I spent a few minutes teaching them different rhythms. I don’t think they cared for it but I never said I was good with animals. Bull thought it was hilarious.”
11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.
“I don’t like having my ancedotes dismissed. If we’re looking on a larger scale, I really don’t like that there’s an ancient magister threatening to destroy the world and start over and some people’s greatest concern is still how the ears of the person leading the fight to stop that are shaped.”
12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?
“I enjoy reading. My clan didn’t have many books and what we did have were focused on our history and written by other elves, which is very effective if you don’t ever plan on interacting with anyone other than elves ever. I can understand why many in my clan would have preferred that but I’ll take Skyhold’s library any day.”
13. Ever hurt anyone before?
“Oh yes, it’s a running joke. If you asked Dorian what my hobbies are, he’d tell you it’s indiscriminate murder, but I think I’m very discriminating.”
14. Ever… killed anyone before?
“I got ahead of myself with the last one. Well, asked and answered, but again, it’s not indiscriminate.” He looks unusually serious for a moment. “I learned my history and I know what indiscriminate murder looks like. What Corypheus intends is indiscriminate. What I am doing, as a representative of the Inquisition, is as thoughtful as it can afford to be. I don’t expect the families of people on the other side to thank me but I am doing what I feel has to be done.”
15. What kind of animal are you?
“A bear. Please ignore all follow up commentary from Dorian should there be any.”
16. Name your worst habits.
“I enjoy reading but I’m very bad at finishing books. There’s a stack of them beside my bed, all with bookmarks in them just waiting for my attention span to resolve itself. I don’t spend as much time here [in Skyhold] as I probably ought to but I’m not comfortable here. I interrupt Dorian’s research on a daily basis, though I can’t say that’s really all that bad since he still gets an impressive amount done.”
17. Do you look up to anyone at all?
“It’s disappointing to me that our differing opinions on the sovereignty of mages keeps Vivienne from giving me so much as the time of day because she’s achieved a kind of power and status that defies all expectations I have ever held for myself as a mage, and I was going to be Keeper of my clan. She’s competent, powerful, self-possessed, and a dazzling conversationalist. Many of those same things can be said of Solas but he also hasn’t kept himself apart in the same way so what admiration I may have for him is tempered by familiarity. We’re friendly, though I do still look up to him and now that he knows we share an interest in manipulating the energy coming from the rifts I think we’ll become even closer. Vivienne, however, is a class apart.”
18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?
“Gay. What a strange way to follow up your previous question.”
19. Do you go to school?
“And yet another unexpected turn! I began a mentorship under my clan’s Keeper as soon as I came into my magic. She ensured I studied other subjects as well but the main focus was history and lore; that’s a Keeper’s function, after all, it’s... it’s literally the name. Keeper.”
20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?
“I haven’t really thought about it. I want to spend the rest of my life with Dorian but marriage is complicated for a lot of reasons, and frankly I can’t imagine anyone who takes the threat our world faces right now seriously daydreaming about raising a child. I want to make sure we have a world where raising families is still a possibility at the end of this but for myself, I don’t know.”
21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?
"I pay for my drinks at the Herald’s Rest just like anyone else. I really don’t care for being recognized even though I realize it’s inevitable. Except with you, though, you didn’t even know my name.”
22. What are you most afraid of?
“Fucking it all up. Absolutely just ruining everything. I like to keep my fears general so I’m always just a little terrified, it’s very motivational.”
23. What do you usually wear?
“I prefer light clothing that allows me to move easily. I need to ground myself in order to cast but I need to have my arms and body free.”
24. Do you love someone?
“I do. I never imagined that being an outcome of all this but I’m also lucky enough that he loves me back.”
25. When was the last time you wet yourself?
“Have you ever been gripped by the wrist and hoisted like a wet rag doll by a twelve-foot-tall creature made of red lyrium and avarice who wanted nothing more than to snap your hand off and kill you, knowing all your back-up had fled because you sent them away and the only outcome of this encounter was your death? You’d pee a little too, trust me.”
26. Well, it’s not over yet!
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he made me piss myself again, but this time I’ll be ready.”
27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)
“Being the First of the clan meant I enjoyed certain privileges but our clan was not a wealthy one. My life here in Skyhold is an improvement in a lot of ways over life with the clan in that regard, and I suppose I am a lord now.”
28. How many friends do you have?
“More than six but less than ten. Draw your own conclusions.”
29. What are your thoughts on pie?
“Surprisingly difficult to make but worth it.”
30. Favourite drink?
“The water in Skyhold is the cleanest, freshest tasting water I’ve ever had, and it’s often bitterly cold too, so cold your teeth ache when you drink it. The castle is too cold to really enjoy that but I do enjoy it. Dorian thinks I’m mad but it’s the only cold thing I like.”
31. What’s your favourite place?
“My quarters, with all the doors closed and curtains hauled over them, a fire on and my lover close at hand. It’s the only way I can thaw out.”
32. Are you interested in someone?
“Keep. Up.”
33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?
“I've received no complaints.”
34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?
“Dorian tells me in Tevinter they have great indoor baths for swimming in. Given the option, one of those.”
35. What’s your type?
"Fire and Rift.” He pauses and sighs. “I don’t know that I could ever be with someone who wasn’t a mage. It made life in the clan very isolating because even as the First you were still seen mostly as competition for younger mages who wanted to keep their place in the clan. Having a ‘type’ never occurred to me. It still hadn’t when I ended up here. I don’t know that I have one. I love Dorian. I don’t need a type.” 
36. Any fetishes?
His eyes flash and narrow and Varevas leans forward in his chair. “Whenever possible, I try to convince Dorian to keep his clothes on when I go down on him. I get off on the smell of the leather and the jingle of all those ridiculous buckles and clasps keeping him bound up while I try to make him explode.” He maintains eye contact the entire time he speaks and there’s not a hint of color on his cheeks. “Dorian is an incredibly private man who would be profoundly hurt if I revealed anything factual in a situation like this, so do with that statement what you will.”
37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?
“We’re done discussing this.”
38. Camping or indoors?
“Indoors. Who doesn’t like being warm and dry?”
39. Are you wanting the interview to end?
“If that’s what it takes to end these questions about my private affairs then yes.”
40. Now it’s over!
“Brilliant. You can show yourself out.”
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katealexandra26 · 7 years
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A Matter of Choice (1/1)
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Summary: Princess Emma is seeking answers. Captain Killian Jones is seeking revenge. Their paths converge in front of the Great Gate of Danann. Reluctantly, Emma chooses to place her trust in him and work together. But Killian seems to be stuck in the past and Emma is terrified of the future. Both must face the consequences of their choices and live with them for the rest of their lives. And for the Fae, that’s a very, very long time indeed. 
Rating: Explicit 
Content Warnings: Explicit sexual content, potential dubious consent between a married couple, brief mentions of past abusive relationship, graphic violence, major character death, revenge, and murder
Word Count: 14,925
Also on: ao3 | ff.net
Author’s Note: Here is my contribution to the 2018 Captain Swan Little Bang. This is the single longest completed story that I’ve ever written and I am so happy it’s finally time to post this. 
So I decided to scrap my original idea 1 week before the final deadline and go with a different Fae story. I wrote over 15,000 words in 7 days (before it was trimmed down to the current version). I got to tell the story I wanted and still managed to include references to Star Wars, Game of Thrones, JM Barrie’s original Peter Pan play and a few others (if you find them, drop by my ask box to fangirl if you want). A HUGE thank you to @jarienn972, @cocohook38 and @forestiyari for dealing with my indecisiveness and last minute changes.
@jarienn972 : You helped me hone my writing to tell a better story and I appreciate your work more than words can express. Thank you for also being a friendly ear when I ran into roadblocks not just with writing but life and encouraging me to make the right decisions for my story.
@cocohook38 : Your work for my story is so incredible. I have never had someone do original artwork for a story of mine and it was humbling. Merci beaucoup, mon ami.
@forestiyari : Both you and @cocohook38 being in different time zones was hard to manage but you were so patient with me and stayed up well past a normal hour for your time zone, all to complete your lovely, ethereal cover art that I’ve attached to this post. Thank you so much for being so accommodating and working with me to find the right way to introduce my story. 
And finally to @ohmakemeahercules : Thank you for being my friend, cheerleader and back up beta reader through this whole process. I am truly glad we encouraged each other to do this project. Everyone else you MUST check out Kristen’s story here and my art for it here and here.
And without further ado…
Princess Emma of Misthaven was never permitted beyond the bounds of her parents’ kingdom; she had known this since she could remember. Her rational mind kept screaming at her that she shouldn’t have chosen tonight, All Hallow’s Eve, of all nights to test those bounds as an ominous feeling settled itself in the pit of her stomach. Emma shoved the thought down and argued that tonight was the perfect night as it was the full moon. Between the two converging events, Emma’s magic would be powerful enough for what she wished to accomplish.
The prospect of dangers she may very well encounter, especially from her step-grandmother, had been something she had considered, but she wouldn’t let fear rule her. Bravery wasn’t the problem. Despite not permitting her outside of their kingdom, there wasn’t much King David and Queen Snow forbade her as she had grown. She mastered the art of war with Sir Lancelot, learned from her Aunt Ruby how to track with all of her senses, and her parents’ Master of the Hunt, Sir Graham, taught her there was more to hunting than taking the life of her prey. Her curiosity was just too much to contain, but the day that her magic bloomed, she ran to her mother in alarm.
“Mother! Mother!” Emma shouted as she ran through the halls of the palace, ignoring the stares of the staff as she ran with unladylike haste.
“Slow down, Princess Emma! You don’t wish to fall and miss your birthday ball.” her tutor urged as she approached the library annex her teacher inhabited.
Emma slowed down and watched her teacher as he leaned against the door, pulling his long white beard between his thumb and forefinger as he so often did when Emma’s behavior was less regal than it ought to have been. Though the man’s wrinkled, time wizened faced held a degree of mirth and conspiracy as he observed her disheveled state, Emma smoothed her skirts back down and stood tall facing her elder.
“What has you in such a rush, my dear girl?” Magnus asked, ushering his pupil to his study.
“Master Magnus, I have discovered something puzzling” Emma answered. Her teacher stared at her, waiting for her to reveal the discovery that had sent her running through the castle.
Rather than explaining with words, Emma grabbed a candle holder from the long wooden table in the center of the workroom. She used her left hand to steady it on her right palm. Then her left hand fell away, leaving the candle holder perfectly centered. She studied the wick, focused on the task she wished to accomplish. She imagined a bright orange flame at the end of the candle. She closed her eyes and breathed out.
The gasp of her teacher informed her she must have met her goal. She opened her eyes to find that every candle in the workroom was alight. Emma smiled with pure glee and the candle holder in her palm began to float inches above it. Emma expected to see a similar reaction from her teacher, but rather than joy or even pride, Emma saw concern etched in every pore on his face.
His hand came up he waved gently, extinguishing the excess flames not lit prior to her entry into the room. Emma sighed, unsure of her tutor’s change in demeanor.
“You must be careful, my dear princess. Magic can be dangerous. It is said by some that all magic comes at a price but your magic is a gift of light, of love. However, you must learn control, because to lose control could be dangerous,” Magnus warned, eyes softening as Emma’s filled with tears.
“Why do I have such magic? I don’t want to be different, I didn’t ask for this,” Emma wailed, hugging around the old man’s waist. Her teacher was one of the kindest people she knew and Emma liked to think that he cared for her, not just as a master may for a pupil, but as a grandfather loved his grandchild.
Magnus knelt down in front of her, titling her chin up to meet his blue-grey eyes. “Do not fear. Mastery of magic is a skill that one can learn, just as you’ve learned to hunt, ride or shoot a bow. I can teach you, but the answers you seek should come from your lady mother. Dry your eyes, my child,” Magnus advised, conjuring a handkerchief, handing it to the young princess. “Now, let me take you to the Queen and see if she can provide the answers you seek.”
Emma smiled at the memory, wondering how her dear teacher would judge her current journey. After Emma had shared her discovery with her tutor all those years ago, he had led her to her mother’s study and her mother revealed that Emma was half-Fae, as Snow herself had been born in the land of the Fae and had been banished from that land by her horrid stepmother long ago. Snow herself rarely used her magic anymore, explaining to her daughter that the last notable time was the day she took David, then Prince of the Realm and heir of King George, as her husband. As they sealed the bonds of matrimony, Snow shared half of her heart with David, granting him her immortality. Snow explained that along with her magic, the moment Emma reached the age of twenty-five, she would cease to age, as Snow had once done.
At thirteen, the idea didn’t make much of an impact on how she lived her daily life or imagined her future, other than beginning a new course of instruction with Master Magnus. At eight days passed twenty-five, part of Emma was horrified at the thought that she would outlive most of the people she loved whom were not of her blood. It wasn’t even a choice she had. She would live forever and while she loved her parents and her younger brother Leo, it felt as though she had been robbed of something.
It was her intention to journey to her mother’s homeland and find answers about her immortality, perhaps even a way to end it if she so chose.  It wasn’t that she wished to, but Emma had come to feel over the last few years that perhaps the purpose of living was knowing someday it would end. Her mother had shared her immortality with her husband and Emma knew that it was perhaps possible for her to do the same if she fell in love with a mortal. Though given she was merely half-Fae, her mother had no definitive answer as to how the ritual bond might work with her.
Guilt plagued her for deceiving her parents, her brother, for not disclosing her plans to a single soul, but her mother couldn’t help her and Misthaven had no records of Fae. Master Magnus once jokingly whispered this was likely because the Fae guarded information, real information about themselves and would often cull the libraries of men to keep those secrets as such. As much as Master Magnus had been a wealth of knowledge about magic, he also couldn’t give her the answers she sought.
As Emma urged her black horse through the dark woods, she was afraid. Not of the forest. She knew every inch of this forest like she did the back of her own hand. No, Emma feared what she would find or worse, that her journey would all be for naught. The trees overhead were thickly bound together, almost curled in an arch over the Kingsroad so that the moonlight barely illuminated the part of the path she traveled.
The howling of wolves distracted her as she rode, likely her Aunt Ruby’s pack out for their monthly hunt, drawing her focus away from her path before she gave the animal its head. Ruby was born of a long line of werewolves but she was Snow’s closest and oldest friend, which was saying something when one considered that Snow herself was at least two hundred years old. The magic of Ruby’s gift, or curse as many others would call it, gave a similar extended life to werewolves, given they continued to embrace their inner wolves and shifted regularly. Emma could feel the magic in the air tighten around her as the wolves ran close to her position.
Emma used a mild spell to hide her scent from the pack so that the harsh wind whooshing eerily through the trees, and any creatures of the wood observing her racing her steed through the night could not carry trace of her back to any who may seek to find her. Her senses tingled once again as she drew her horse off a new and unfamiliar path, the magic growing stronger the closer she got to her destination. Emma reigned in her horse and dismounted with a grace that only years on the back of the majestic animal could teach.
Emma led the horse on foot towards the source of the magic, her body tensing as she heard voices near her.
“Down, Arion,” Emma whispered to her horse, watching as he knelt down on the ground and laid lower than the hedgerow in front of them.
Emma saw an ancient and gnarled tree in an opening of the forest, just beyond where she hid. There appeared to be a locked gate just to the left of the deformed tree. To most it would appear the gate led to nowhere in particular, just an overgrown garden of someone’s long abandoned home. Emma knew better than that. She trusted the gut instinct that led her here. The rusted metal gate was her passageway into the Fae realm.
The voices she heard minutes before suddenly had forms to go with them. A man in a long, black leather duster entered the clearing. Emma could not make out his face. His hair was short and blacker than the leather he wore. She could make out little else about him.
“Smee, where in the seven hells is that powder?” a smooth, lilting voice called out.
Emma observed as a short, fat man rushed from the other side of the clearing. He was red-faced and huffing as he stopped before the other man.
“Here, Captain, here it is,” the man, Smee, bowed, offering a small blue pouch to the Captain. He backed away, pulling a red cap from his head. Smee clutched the cap desperately, his hands wringing it nervously as he backed away from the Captain just a little further.
The Captain marched up to the rusted metal gate, purpose in each stride. Reaching the gate, he sprinkled the contents of the blue pouch onto the ground. He held up his hand towards the gate and began muttering something in a vaguely familiar language. It was Dark Elvish! It was a spell she had not heard before but she could hazard a guess as to its purpose, tonight of all nights. The Captain clearly had the same idea as she. After several minutes, he was no longer speaking, but Emma still felt the presence of magic. Only nothing happened and Emma wondered why. The spell should have worked, if the caster had a proper grasp on the magic being used.
Curses emanated from the man, some in languages Emma understood and others that were foreign to her ears.
“Gods damn that woman!” the Captain cursed, whipping around to face the hedgerow where Emma was concealed. At first Emma feared that the man meant her but she was confident she had not been discovered yet.
Emma took the opportunity with the man facing towards her to study his face. The Captain, as the other had called him, was one of the most handsome men Emma had ever laid eyes upon. The dark locks covering his head were barely swept back off his brow. Raven hair peppered with auburn made up the beard and mustache that covered the lower half of his face. He wore a blood red doublet, that showed off more of the sinful hair that covered the rest of him. Emma shook her head and looked back up towards his face. His hand came up to tuck some wayward hair behind his left ear.
Emma gasped as she saw what she had missed in her perusal. Her right hand flew to cover her mouth and her left ran gently over her own slightly pointed ears. This man was half-Fae. Of course he was! It explained why he was in the middle of nowhere trying to open a gate that only those of Fae or magical descent could open. Lost in thought, she failed to take note of four men behind her, two whom had already secured Arion. The other two grabbed her, hauling her up, unfazed by her kicking and screaming in effort to escape. Emma forced her panic away as her hands were bound and her magic wouldn’t respond to her call. The men dragged her into the clearing to face their Captain.
Emma swallowed hard, channelling every bit of royal training into this moment. She might be captive but she wouldn’t be for long and she needed to be prepared for that opportunity.
“Well, what do we have here?” the Captain grinned, closing the distance between them in two quick steps. Emma didn’t answer, merely watching as the man looked her over. She was wearing a sapphire blue tunic vest, soft cotton blouse, (one that showed more cleavage than her mother would approve of) dark blue breeches and knee high riding boots. Her black cape skimmed the ground and the hood no longer hid her blonde tresses from view.
“Where are my manners,” he smiled, executing a courtly bow. “Captain Killian Jones, at your service,” Captain Jones provided as he resumed his former position. “What is your name, love?”
Emma thought about lying but something in her told her this man would know a lie from the truth. “Emma,” she said simply, not lying but refusing to expound upon her answer.
“What are you doing in the middle of the woods on such a night, Emma?” Captain Jones demanded.
Emma didn’t know how to answer without lying because telling the truth would give this man a reason to hold her prisoner, perhaps even longer than he intended. One of the two men flanking her, shook her violently when she failed to reply. Her hair, which had been braided loosely with several strands carefully arranged over her ears to prevent anyone from noticing the slight difference between hers and a human’s, fell free of its bonds when the Captain’s minion shook her. Hair tumbled down, obscuring her field of vision and tickling her nose while she tried to shake her head so that her hair was no longer in her face.
A pair of rough hands parted her hair in front of her nose, fingertips skimming gently over her forehead and carefully tucked her hair behind her ears as he had done with his own not so long before. His right hand stopped as it passed over her left ear. His eyes found hers. Emma tried to suppress the shiver that tore through her, failing miserably as his hand caressed her left ear, his left hand repeating the process on her other ear, thumbs lingering on her earlobe. The gesture was a deeply intimate one, creating a feeling Emma had never experienced before. Her eyes locked on his cerulean blue ones, she could see a million thoughts flash through them before he settled on one. Triumph.
“Well, Emma, I think there is a lot more to your story than meets the eye,” Captain Jones purred, his face mere inches in front of her own. Emma still hadn’t broken eye contact.
Just then Arion neighed loudly and reared back from those that tried to hold him against his will and the Captain turned to see what was going on.
The men holding her hesitated and she felt whatever was blocking her magic fade. She pulled free and spun around, waving her hand at the minions holding her, sending them catapulting through the air. She didn’t watch to see where they fell.
“Arion!” she shouted, calling her horse to her. Arion was almost to her when Captain shouted several Elven words that brought the animal to a halt next to the vile man. Emma’s sword was still in its scabbard, tied to Arion’s saddle and she had been relieved of her dagger when captured.
“Fuck,” Emma cursed. She had no weapon to defend herself; if she aimed a magical attack at the Captain, she had no doubt he could easily counter it. Or worse, she or he could accidentally hurt her beloved Arion in their struggle. She was plotting various outcomes as his voice broke through her inner thoughts.
“Princess Emma, you want the answers you came for? I have a proposition for you,” Captain Jones offered, walking Arion towards her.
“How did you know that I was the princess?” Emma deflected.
“A number of small details that, when added up, gave a pretty clear picture of who you were.”
Emma glared at him and he seemed to understand what the look said. “Firstly, your name is Emma.” Emma scoffed at him but he continued. “Secondly, your ears are those of the half-Fae, courtesy of your mother,” he explained. “Thirdly, your horse, Arion? There are many tales of the beautiful Princess and her faithful steed Arion who are frequently seen together riding the length and breadth of these woods.”
Emma wanted to knock the smug, self-satisfied smirk off his handsome face. “What is it you are proposing?” Emma grimaced at the choice of word.
“Regina, the Queen who rules over much of the Realm of the Fae, has barred me passage back, spiteful bitch that she is. I believe she did the same to your mother, Snow White,” Captain Jones spat. “Anyway, to get in, I need someone who is not barred from opening the portal and accompanying me through. Once you’re done, on my honor as a gentleman, I vow to set you free to find whatever you came here to find.”
“Your word as a gentleman?” Emma huffed angrily. “I’m supposed to believe the man who held me against my will and somehow bound my magic? You must be insane!”
“I am always a gentleman, love. I apologize that my men were rough with you, that was not my intention when I advised them to capture you. And I resent being called insane!”
“What else should I call a man such as you?” Emma growled as he invaded her personal space once more.
He stuck his tongue out and ran it lavisciously over lips, a frustratingly arrogant and obscene gesture in Emma’s mind. “Oh, love, I can think of many things you can call me,” he drawled. “But perhaps not in the middle of an open field littered with so many of my unconscious crewmen.”
Emma gasped at the outright nerve of the man. Suggesting she let him take her to bed. Emma had never done such a thing. “If I should take a lover, it’d never be you,” Emma vowed.
“Never is an awfully long time, darling. So what do you say? Open this portal and we can be on our way. The sooner we leave, the sooner you’ll be rid of me,” he said before looking up. “This full moon won’t last forever and I would prefer not to have to do this all again in a month. I have revenge I’d like to seek.”
“You want me to let you through this portal to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting world? What kind of woman do you take me for?” Emma asked.
“There is a warlock by the name of Rumpelstiltskin who sought sanctuary there and I intend to kill him for once and for all. Nothing and no one will stop me,” the man clarified, glaring at her harshly.
“Why do you hunt this man?” Emma asked, frustration seeping into her bones that she even had to ask the question.
“He is more monster than man. He took someone from me, someone I loved very much and I have hunted him for centuries. Now that I know how to kill an immortal creature, I will finally put an end to the Dark One!” Captain Jones vowed, looking her in the eyes. The determination Emma found in his blue eyes frightened her.
“As long as you promise not to harm anyone but the man you seek, I will aid you,” Emma promised, extending her hand to the man in front of her.
“Unless I am attacked first, I promise not to harm any innocent souls on our quest,” Captain Jones said, grasping her hand and shaking it once. Emma felt a warmth spreading through her gloved hand and traveling through her. A glance toward the Captain revealed him appraising her with curiosity in his own gaze.
“Enough of that, Captain Jones. Let’s open this portal and be on our way,” Emma grumbled, withdrawing her hand from his for fear it might burn if she didn’t retract it.
“Enough of ‘Captain Jones’. My name is Killian. If we’re going to be companions, you might as well use my name,” he smirked, eyebrow arching in challenge.
“I think not, Captain Jones. Now, let’s get to work. Send your men back to where they came from.” He waved his hand, unconscious men disappearing in a puff of red smoke, and then turned to her once more.
Emma retrieved the scroll she had packed into the saddle bag before she had left and removed her gloves, tucking them into the saddle bag. She had to feel in order to properly perform the spell to remove the enchantment long enough for them to pass through.
As she approached the gate, her right hand reached out to feel the barrier the portal had protecting it. Emma pushed back against the cold she found on the edge of the gate’s barrier, her steps bringing her closer to the gate. Emma rested her hand on it, ignoring the feeling that she should turn around and walk away, expecting there may be some sort of spell here designed to keep humans away. Emma eyes fell closed as she focused. She had spent twelve years honing her magic and she was more in touch with her Fae half at the moment. A rich, post-rain earthy smell with a faint hint of cinnamon reached her nostrils as her left hand rested on the rusted metal. It encouraged her as she dug into the power of the barrier.
Emma’s mouth opened, speaking the carefully constructed spell to open the gate.
“Stop!” she heard from somewhere behind her, but she couldn’t stop now. Her power was so alive, she could feel the magic of the barrier loosen. The power started to wrap itself around her. Emma encouraged it until she was struggling to take in a single breath of air. She tried to fight the feeling, tried to disentangle herself but it was too late.
Warm fingers trailed against her right hand and threaded themselves into hers. The smell of salt, sea and seaweed melded with the earthy smell from before, completely enveloping her as the constriction on her chest lessened and air flowed easily into her body. A thought reached her mind, Repeat after me. Emma focused on the words the voice fed to her, not saying them outloud but focusing her feelings on the meaning of the words, willing them to be reality.
A burst of wind washed over her as she felt the barrier break. The hand grasping hers didn’t let go when the way before them was free to be travelled. Emma turned to face the owner of the hand, Killian Jones. Logically, she knew it was him, but she was surprised he had saved her and was still in a state of shock from the way the portal had defended itself - nay, brutally attacked her for seeking entry.
“I am sor-,” Emma started before he cut her off. “No, don’t say it. It is I who should be sorry. I fear that my attempt to probe the gate previously, must have  triggered a curse built in for encountering my magic. It retaliated on the next attempt to open it.”
“I realized what was happening as you cast your attempt. I felt Rumplestiltskin’s magic all over it. He must have placed this here in case I sought entry. It must be why Regina, your grandmother, accepted him. We don’t have a pleasant history and she probably wanted me dead too,” Killian explained, a bit sheepishly, looking remorseful he was the reason she had almost died.
Emma almost missed that she began referring to the Captain by his first name in her head. After what she felt, his mind against hers during the spell, she simply didn’t want to bother with such formalities any further. It didn’t feel right.
Arion felt uneasy next to her, she turned, muttered softly to him. “It’s alright boy. There is nothing to fear. The danger is gone. You should be able to pass through the portal with me.”
Arion neighed nervously and shook his head, gaze turning towards the scoundrel with whom she had made a compact. Emma shook her head at Arion’s description of the man.
“I promise not to hurt your mistress, Arion. On my life, I promise to keep her safe.”
Emma had hoped he wouldn’t know the ancient Gaelic tongue that she had used with Arion since he was a colt. Given the brief mention of centuries chasing the same foe, Emma guessed he might even have been alive when the language was more commonly spoken. Emma tried to shake the unsettling feeling that arose at his promise. He was a stranger who’d held her briefly against her will and manipulated her into helping him. Why would he make such a promise?
“Shall we go?” Killian asked, having retrieved his own horse. Emma shook herself and swung into the saddle on Arion’s back.
The gate now opened with a gentle wave of her hand and they passed through into a forest that appeared the same as they had left behind except that magic pulsed through every tree, branch, leaf and root. The rusted gate slammed shut with a loud bang. An ominous feeling lingered in the back of her mind. Did she really have any idea what she was getting into? It was too late to turn back.
Killian watched the princess carefully as they trotted at a slow pace down the trail. Her power was unlike anything he had encountered in his nearly six hundred years. Guilt nagged at him that his reckless attempt to open the barrier had unleashed a counterspell meant to kill him. He had no idea what possessed him to grab her hand other than pure instinct. The instant he touched her hand, he felt her power, willfully ignoring the part of his mind that coveted that power for himself. He pushed away those thoughts, knowing if he was going to get into Danann he needed to focus towards helping the young princess break the counterspell since she had successfully broken the initial barrier.
It had been more than seventy years since he had been back to Danann. This was not the world he remembered. It was dark, no creatures or people visible as the road from the gate merged with the main road. Even at night, this place used to be more alive. A once busy thoroughfare was reduced to an overgrown dirt path. This had Rumplestiltskin’s dirty fingerprints all over it.
Anger flared deep within his soul, bound with satisfaction that the damnable warlock would soon meet his end. Killian didn’t even care that the cost may very well be his own life. Half life that it was since Milah had died. The day echoed in his mind as clear now as the day itself.
“Okay, lads. One night here in this port and we’ll be on our way with the morning high tide. Any man who misses the departure will no longer have pleasure of serving on this crew,” Killian sneered, looking around at the men on deck. “See the purser for your share of the haul.”
With that Killian departed and made his way down to his cabin. Milah was sitting at his desk, dark hair a mess around her face as she stared at the drawing in front of her, completely lost in her regret. Her face was covered in tears and she was only half dressed, wearing her leather pants, heeled boots and a white blouse. Her favorite corseted-vest lay discarded on the floor despite her knowing how much he valued clean and tidy living quarters.
Killian knelt on the floorboards next to his lover. He could see the gray which now peppered her raven locks as he pushed her hair out her face.
“I know he wouldn’t look this way, but it’s the only comfort I have. He’d be twenty now,” Milah sobbed, turning to Killian. He gathered her into his arms and coaxed her to let go of her pain.
About eight years after he and Milah had run away from the little port town at which they were now docked, they’d received word that Milah’s son, Baelfire had died.The circumstances were still a mystery even years later. The one detail they had discovered was that her husband, Rumpelstiltskin, had acquired some kind of magic and had been terrorizing the local villagers in sadistic revenge on them for having always called him a coward. Baelfire got caught in the crossfire of the conflict and had been found dead. Townsfolk whispered that it had been Rumplestiltskin himself that had accidentally dealt the death blow to his own son.
Milah’s grief had been untamed, much like the woman herself, and in the early days after he used magic to help heal her which led him to finally tell her of his own heritage. The lasting gift that his mother had given him. His mother, after giving birth to Killian, decided that she want to bind herself to his father, Brennan Jones. For a Fae, it was an enormous commitment to bind their heart to a mortal, to share eternity with them. Ailsa had been certain Brennan was worthy of this honor but to her horror, during the binding ceremony, Ailsa split her heart and Brennan proved untrue. Ailsa died before completing the ceremony.
Milah had wanted it of him then, wanted him to bind himself to her, and Killian had felt guilty that he could not do it. Milah, though she was his in his heart, had bound herself in marriage to Rumpelstiltskin and nothing but death could break that bond. Over time, Milah had accepted what they were able to share, his wife in all but name, and she eventually began to heal from the pain the death of her son had reaped from her heart.
It took years, but Killian had convinced her that since her husband had moved on from their former home, she could finally pay her respects to her son’s final resting place. When the day was upon them, Killian felt regret surge up, his magic screaming at him to weigh anchor and leave. Killian ignored the instinct.
“Milah, we have made port. Just get dressed and we will go seek what we came here for and then we can go to the tavern and get as drunk as you’d like. Can you do that, my love?” Killian asked, tender care for her emotional state at the forefront of his mind.
She compiled without the utterance of a single word. Killian hated seeing his fiery sea goddess so diminished and defeated by ghosts of the past. When they reached the quarterdeck, most of the men had received their pay and departed for the local taverns, brothels and gaming houses. Only the second mate, Smee (a half-Fae as well), their gunner Kincaid, and ship’s doctor, Whale, still sat on the deck and as consequence, no one was guarding the gangplank to the dock. A man, extravagantly dressed in a fine blue silk doublet and brown suede breeches, knee high stockings, paired with jewel-bedecked heeled shoes, now stood on the deck of his ship without invitation. Kincaid made a move to draw his sword and the stranger waved his hand and the blade flew to his outstretched fingers.
The gasp Milah let out and the shaking fear he felt radiating off of her told him immediately who this man was. This was her husband, Rumplestiltskin. The man whose abuse pushed her into Killian’s arms. He was older than Killian had imagined, with long gray hair that hung just above his shoulders and a bit of a bulging belly that showed he was well beyond his prime. Killian surged with anger at this man who had tormented Milah for many years. A woman who had the misfortune to have been sold by her noble father to a man who made his fortune selling weapons to people on both sides of a conflict. The man who had taken advantage of a young girl’s misplaced affection and asserted his martial rights even when she would have preferred anything other than her husband rutting harshly into her, without thought for her pleasure, until he was spent and she was pregnant.
Killian could feel the sparks of his anger translate into the sparking of his magic.
The other man looked directly at him in that moment. “Tsk, tsk, wouldn’t want to start something you can’t win, now would we, Captain?” Rumpelstiltskin cautioned, wagging his pointer finger reproachingly.
“Rumple, why are you here? I simply came to pay my respects to our son. Please just let me visit his grave and we’ll be on our way,” Milah begged, eyes red again from unshed tears.
“You were no mother to our boy when he lived, I’ll be damned if you get to pretend that you were mother to him after he is gone,” Rumple raged, face turning a pale, shimmering blue.
“I knew if I left, you’d wish good riddance upon me but if I dared to steal your heir, then you’d follow me to the ends of the Earth to get him back. No matter how awful you were to me, I knew you loved Bae,” Milah sobbed.
“YOU DO NOT GET TO SAY HIS NAME, YOU FILTHY WHORE!” Rumplestiltskin roared, appearing in front of her with inhuman speed. His hand was on her chest - nay! - within her chest and with a sharp tug, the monster pulled her heart, enchanted by the magic he had used to remove it from its home. Killian had only ever heard of this magic. He had never, despite the evils he had done in his lifetime, used magic against another in such a purely despicable way.
Killian’s hand flinched as he watched the other man squeeze Milah’s heart ever so slightly. Milah fell to her knees on the hard wooden deck, howling in pain.
“If you move, pirate, I’ll crush her heart,” the warlock threatened, squeezing again until Milah screamed louder and several tiny cracks appeared on the surface of her heart.
Killian paused, uncertain what to do. The man before him seemed to sense when he was using magic and there was no way in such close quarters that the man wouldn’t notice Killian unsheathing his sword. Killian reached out to his ship, his beloved Jewel of the Realm, once Liam’s ship and then Killian’s after his half-brother’s tragic death. The Jewel had always had a magical quality to her and had often responded to his magic calling for help. He cloaked his effort and slowly, one of the rigging lines crept towards Rumplestiltskin. Just as the line was about to ensnare him, the warlock turned and directed the rope around Killian so tightly he could barely breathe. Rumple ordered Milah to her feet and with no choice but to comply, she rose. The man dragged Killian through the air until he was just inches from Milah’s face.
“Now, pirate, I want you to look into the eyes of the person you love most in this world. Tell her how much she means to you,” his tormentor ordered. “Now!” he screeched when Killian didn’t comply immediately.
Milah spoke first. “Killian, I love you. Thank you for the adventure of my life. I will always be with you. Never forget me. I don’t regret loving you,” she lamented, pressing her lips to his for what she knew was their final kiss.
“I love you, Milah. I promise that no matter how long I live, I could never forget you,” he pledged, wishing he could run his hand along her cheek.
“Ah, how sweet. True love,” Rumple crooned. “But love never lasts,” he cackled, crushing her heart. Milah crumpled to the deck, light gone from her eyes.
In his glee, the monster let his spell slip and Killian broke free of his binds. Killian drew his sword and ran the monster through. Instead of dying, the monster laughed as Killian stumbled back. Rumpelstiltskin drew the sword from his torso and swung it around to chop off Killian’s hand. The sword sliced clean through but Killian picked up the severed hand, held it up to the bleeding stump at the end of his arm and reattached it with his magic. It still pulsed from the repair but his magic was working on the inside to knit sinew and bone back together.
“Not easy to kill, are you pirate? Well, neither am I,” Rumpelstiltskin laughed, dropping the bloodied sword to the deck.
“I will find a way to kill you, know matter how long it takes,” Killian swore, venom surfacing in his magic in ways he had never experienced.
“Good luck living long enough to try,” the monster hissed, disappearing in a cloud of smoke.
“Captain Jones?” a sweet voice jostled him out of the memories.
“Aye, lass?” he replied, uncertain how long he had been unfocused. Taking stock of their position on road, he had zoned out for a very long time - if the setting sun was any indication, he’d lost more than sixteen hours. He was grateful that even with his mind unfocused, he managed to keep them on the right path toward civilization. Killian turned to his companion to see she was slumped over slightly and looked like it was taking every ounce of her strength to keep her seat.
He really should have accounted for how much strength - magic - she had exhausted.
“There’s a tavern a short distance up the road,” Killian supplied. He grabbed her reins and drew her steed to his. Tying them around his wrist he turned to her. “Get some rest. Between, Arion and I, you shall arrive safely.”
She blinked at him suspiciously, clearing not trusting him as she adjusted herself so she sat ramrod straight in her saddle. She turned and nodded for him to lead the way. She was headstrong, this princess. She reminded him of Milah in many ways. But just like the differences of their hair color, he suspected the two women were as diverse as night and day.
Night was fully upon them before they reached the inn. He guided them to the stable and hopped to the ground. He gathered his things from his horse and turned to find the princess still sitting perfectly straight in her seat. He walked around to the side of her horse that wasn’t tied to his.
“Princess, you need to come down now. We’ve reached our destination,” he implored gently. She seemed to rouse herself from whatever trance she was in and tried to dismount. Unlike the grace she had shown earlier, she couldn’t seem to summon the will to come down.
Killian placed his hands on her waist and lifted her down. He suppressed a groan as she slid down along his body. The second he had her on the ground, he realized she had cast a spell to keep herself upright but now she was dead asleep. He was going to have to wake her because, unless the inn before them had changed hands, Tiana would not appreciate him hauling an unconscious woman inside and demanding a room. Killian deposited the sleeping princess on a bale of hay outside the stall, waiting for a moment as she slumped over against the wall. Certain that she wouldn’t fall and injure herself, Killian removed her saddle bag and placed it near her feet and brushed down both of the horses. He started with Emma’s Arion and then his own gray, Kelan.
“Where are we?” the princess asked groggily, scrubbing her hands over her face in an effort to wake herself.
“At an inn,” Killian replied, turning back to his task. He could feel her surprise.
“I’m surprised a man such as you would take the time do such a simple task,” Emma scoffed, rubbing Arion’s ears, conjuring an apple to her palm for her valiant steed. The horse snapped up the treat with enthusiasm.
“Don’t judge a man by appearances. You don’t know me, love,” Killian chided, turning to look her in the eyes.
“I’m not,” she said defensively. “I’m judging a man who had me held against my will, manipulated me and almost got me killed. But you did also make sure that I didn’t die back there, so for that, at least, I thank you,” Emma conceded.
“Well, perhaps there is more to me than meets the eyes,” Killian smirked, arching his eyebrows in challenge. The princess blushed and looked away and he had to wonder what exactly prompted that reaction. “Now let’s go see about a room for the night. I know the innkeeper,” Killian remarked, picking up their bags and letting her walk before him.
Just as before she reached to open the door, Killian rushed in front of her and halted her progress. “Before we enter, I just wanted to ask that you let me do the talking. And whatever you do, don’t stare,” he cautioned.
“At what?” she asked indignantly, as though a he should expect a princess would have better manners than to stare.
“Any of it,” Killian grimaced, just wondering what kind of creatures they were about to encounter, grabbing the latch and pulling it open.
The music inside the tavern was loudy and heady, there was a siren on stage. The taproom was dirty and dark, half dressed faires bustling from table to table keeping the alcohol flowing. This certainly wasn’t the place he remembered.
At the table closest the door sat two disgustingly ugly goblins, their greenish-black skin glimmering in the low candle light. Their companions were three bridge trolls, dressed in heavy firs with small bugs running across their coats every now and again. Killian took note of several dwarves, gremlins, a singular warlock and two male fairies with black-tipped ears, a sign they were dark magic practitioners.
The energy in the room was murky and ominous. A damp, dank, black magic signature pressed against Killian’s until he felt like gagging. Killian froze as he recognized whose magic this was.
“Killian Jones?” a tall, slender dark-skinned man inquired, slithering from the back room of the tavern to the bar. “As I live and breathe, I thought Regina banished you.”
“Ah, Shadowman, I thought you knew better than to underestimate me. Regina did exactly that. She failed miserably,” Killian laughed confidently.
“And who is this lovely young woman?” Shadowman cooed, dropping his elbow to the bartop and resting his chin on his palm. Killian watched the wizard assess the young princess with a disturbingly lustful glint in his yellow eyes.
“My wife, Emma,” Killian said, grabbing her hand and squeezing it hard. He could feel her anger radiating through her at his statement and his touch. He gave her a sharp look and she nodded. “We need a room for the night,” Killian said, extracting his hand from Emma’s to summon the needed coin to pay Shadowman. Killian had truly missed how much easier it was to call on his magic here in Danann.
“Just your luck, Jones. I have one left for the evening,” Shadowman said as a key appeared in a puff of green smoke and dropped into Killian’s palm. “Mrs. Jones,” Shadowman said, tipping his hat at her as they left the taproom.
They traipsed up the stairs and found the corresponding room for the key number. Killian let her enter ahead of him again and then followed. He dropped his bags and drew out his dagger, slicing a small cut on his wrist. He pressed his bloodied wrist to the door and sealed the room from any of the shady patrons occupying the taproom. Emma was leaning against the wall, whispering something he couldn’t hear. He felt her seal off the sounds of their room with a silencing spell. No sounds in or out. He was certain the only reason she was able to bind the room was because of the well of magic that this world held.
“Your wife? What in the hell were you thinking?” Emma demanded, shaking angrily.
“I was thinking that Shadowman would have harmed you if I hadn’t claimed you as mine. I was trying to protect you. If you think I’m the villain in this situation, just know that all the horrors I’ve visited on others are NOTHING compared to that man. That collector of souls! Even if I hated you, I would not let you fall into the hands of that man,” Killian huffed, ripping off his duster and throwing it in the opposite direction from her. Something to release the tension he felt.
“I am no man’s, least of all yours!”
“I’m well aware of that, Princess,” Killian sighed, watching the exhausted princess rail against him, despite knowing she just wanted to sleep. She faltered and he stepped to her side and helped her lay down on the bed.
“Just try to get some sleep,” Killian begged, removing her boots with a flick of his wrist. She was staring at him and he wondered how much longer before she reached for the dagger she had tucked into her bosom on the trek.
He chuckled, “I’m not sleeping here, the bed is yours. See,” Killian gestured to the pallet he conjured for himself. “No need to fear for your innocence.”
He laid down and let sleep claim him, thankful he could almost always count on his slumber to arrive on swift wings.
Emma awoke with a scream. She looked around the room for the cause of her fear but found nothing but a scantily clad pirate with towel wrapped low on his hips, apparently having just emerged from the bathtub behind a three-paneled screen with elaborate paintings on each pane. The dark chest hair she had seen before trialed down below the line of the towel. The sound of him clearing his throat caused her to abruptly turn away, she could feel the redness of embarrassment from her chest to cheeks.
“Like what you saw, Princess?” Killian chuckled.
Thoughts pooled in her mind and lower but she voiced none of them. “You shouldn’t call me that,” Emma settled on.
“Princess? I suppose not since I told a whole room full of people that you are my wife,” Killian reminded her.
“I am not,” she huffed again.
“Perhaps, I’ll call you Swan. Given how you kept your seat on your horse with your neck as elongated as possible and with more grace than most could in such a state of exhaustion. What do you think of that, wife?” he said, empathizing the last word just to heckle her.
“I like it I suppose, but I’m not your wife,” Emma chided.
“Very few people will believe that, given you’ve been holed up with me in this room for a week,” Killian said calmly, disappearing behind a screen once more to dress.
“A WEEK?!” her shrill cry surprising even her. How on Earth could a week have gone by?
As if understanding her confusion, he just laughed and she was not pleased. He appeared from the other side of the screen dressed in a white shirt that was open to the middle of his chest and his leather pants, boots still near his pallet on the floor.
“Time passes differently here. A week here is usually close to a day in the realm of your birth,” Killian explained, sitting down in a chair by the table in opposite corner from the bath. He pulled his boots on, watching her closely.
“What have you been doing for all this time? Why didn’t you leave?” Emma asked, unsure why this man did anything, let alone protect her.
“You should bathe and change. I’ve left fresh, hot bathwater and clean towels for you,” he nodded towards the screen, avoiding answering her questions.
Emma had no desire to be naked in a room with a man, let alone one she didn’t exactly trust but her muscles were sore and stiff from disuse. The toll the counterspell had taken on her body was greater than she had anticipated. She slipped behind the screen and disrobed, setting her dagger on the small table by the tub just in case. Instinctively, she knew if he had meant her harm, he could have done it whilst she slept. Instead, she had awoken still fully clothed, save her boots and wholy unmolested. Still, the dagger remained accessible as she prepared to cleanse herself.
A moan escaped her as she sank into the steaming water of the tub. She heard the Captain falter in his steps and the unmistakable sound of his groan just before she submerged her head under the water. Emma relaxed and tried to let her mind go blank. She had dreamt even though she couldn’t remember any of it. Strange thing for her because she always remembered her dreams. Sometimes her dreams were prophetic, though not in large, world changing ways. Her dreams often revealed fragments or details about a future event, most just a small but concrete sense of déjà vu.
Emma sat back up out of the water, frustrated she couldn’t let her mind clear. She tried again, letting go of everything until the only sound she could hear was her own rhythmic breathing. She let her mind drift back into the dream state.
Emma opened her eyes to find she was in the middle of a burned and desolate ruin, that of an unfamiliar castle. She turned to see if anyone was around but found no other souls. She walked through the rubble until she came to a wall that was still standing. In the center of that wall was a heavy oak door with no burn marks like the rest of the structure. Everything in her was telling her not to open the door, but she couldn’t listen to that voice just now.
The door handle jostled as she attempted to open the door and upon her second attempt, it gave way. The room she entered was undamaged like the door had been. There were walls lined with ancient looking tomes, a table of to her right stacked with potions and potion making supplies and in the very center of the room was a giant spinning wheel.
Emma stepped closer to it, curiosity unabated. On the floor below her feet she heard crunching sounds so she knelt down to inspect the source of the noise. ‘It looked like straw’ was the first thought that flashed through her mind. Her finger grasped the thin object and brought it in front of her eyes for closer inspection. It was gold. What a strange thing to find in the midst of her dream. Emma stood, thin gold piece still in hand and found herself face to face with a scaly monster with bright yellow eyes.
“I’ve been waiting for you a long time, Dearie,” the creature hissed, hand reaching out towards her throat.
Emma awoke in the tub, screaming once more. Shuffling on the other side of the screen and the clatter of something being dropped.
“Swan, are you ok?” Killian’s voice croaked from the edge of the screen. She could tell he was trying to be gentlemanly but his concern was unnerving. She wished he would leave.
She exited the tub and cloaked herself in the oversized towel, using another to dry her hair. “I am unharmed, stand down.”
He did as she asked and when she sensed he was away from the screen, she quickly dressed in a clean blouse she had packed, along with a dark blue vest that laced up the front for ease of wear. She donned a pair of soft, brown leather riding pants and pulled on her knee high boots. Clothing secure, she stepped out to face the Captain.
“What did you see?” he demanded, every inch the commanding man she had first seen.
“Nothing,” Emma lied.
“What did you see?” he repeated, blue eyes glaring at her, anger brimming at her dissemblance. “The spell I cast on this room when we entered should have blocked you from harm, but it didn’t,” Killian said, handing her the mirror from the table next to him.
Emma accepted the mirror and held it up. On either side of her neck were purple fingerprint bruises. She set the mirror on the table and slumped into the chair. That had never happened before. Her dreams had never left a physical mark before and it terrified her.
Killian sat across from her and was silent, awaiting her response. Emma sighed and relayed the dream to him. When she was finished, she looked over at him to find he looked pale and uncomfortable.
“You know the man with yellow eyes, don’t you?” Emma asked cautiously. “Yellow eyes are a mark of a warlock of non-magical heritage.”
“Yes, he’s the warlock - demon - I am hunting,” Killian said after several long moments. “Why he’d be after you, I have no idea.”
“Because of what you said in the taproom. When you claimed me as your wife, you marked me. Someone down there told him we were here. So now if he comes, he’ll come for both of us,” Emma predicted, confident in her statement because, strategically at least, it made sense. If she was really his wife, then she would be a weakness to be exploited. A means to get to the man who sat before her.
Emma wanted to be angry, part of her was irate, but she also recalled what Killian said about losing the one he loved to this monster. She couldn’t imagine how she could have recovered from such a thing had she been in his place. She might have even considered a path of revenge herself if this Rumpelstiltskin had done to her as he had done to Killian Jones. She pushed away the thought, cursing her sympathetic heart and her stupidity for getting mixed up with this man.
“All I wanted when I journeyed here was to find answers about my heritage. To learn where I came from and why my magic is different. My mother told me that when I was younger that upon my twenty-fifth birthday that I’d stop aging and I’d never grow older. Never die. I wanted to know, even if I never use it, how an immortal, such as I am, may seek to have finality,” Emma raged, not talking to him in particular but rather at the ether.
“If you help me rid the world of Rumpelstiltskin, I’ll accompany you to the library in your mother’s former home,” Killian promised.
“My mother’s former home is the current home of Regina, my step-grandmother who drove my mother out and banished her from this realm. I doubt she’ll just let us waltz in and use her library,” Emma scoffed.
“She’s in league with Rumpelstiltskin so I imagine we will have to face her as well,” Killian pointed out.
“So we’d be taking on the evil warlock who killed your love and the evil queen who tormented my mother and murdered my grandfather?” Emma asked, feeling the need to make sure they were on the same page as far as the level of insanity for this venture.
“That’s the sum of it, yeah,” Killian agreed, having the decency to look her in the eye as he confirmed her assessment.
“I suppose given that if I say no, I’d still be walking into a quarrel I never asked for, I don’t have much of a choice,” Emma conceded, ceasing her pacing and siting once more on the soft mattress of the bed.
“You’ll find, the older you get, that there is always a choice. Whether or not you like the choices, but there is always a choice involved,” he advised, tone sounding wistful and mournful at the same time.
Emma had to wonder how many lifetimes this man had lived. It was plain to see he had lost a lot in his life. Suffered immense pain but also experienced immense joy. Was that what awaited her? Eons of emotional ups and downs with no true destination. Fear crept into her skull and rooted itself firmly. Emma knew at some point she’d have to look the fear in the eye and give name to it, but today wouldn’t be that day.
“Do you have some kind of plan?” Emma asked after a lengthy pause, decision made.
Killian smirked, but then schooled his features. “I do have a plan and as much as I am confident in the spells we have placed upon these walls, I would prefer we depart from this place and gain some distance.”
“I understand. A strategy is worthless if your enemy knows what you intend,” Emma agreed.
They finished dressing and gathered their things in silence. Emma and Killian approached the door in unison. Emma lifted the silence spell from the room and Killian broke the blood magic seal on the room. Emma walked behind Killian as he seemed very familiar with the inn. As they entered the tap room, a brief silence descended upon the patrons before the chatter resumed. Emma could feel eyes lingering on her as weaved through the tables towards the door. Killian grabbed her hand and hurried her along.
“People are leering at me,” Emma whispered in his ear, her body pressed closer to his back than was appropriate.
“They are probably wondering how you are able to walk if I have spent the last week fucking you on every surface in our chamber,” was his gruff reply.
Emma made a noise of indignance at his coarse words, which he seemed to ignore. Emma coldly ignored the traitorous voice in her own head that was intrigued by the idea.
Once outside to the stables, they each quickly attended to their horse, preparing to ride away as quickly as possible. The sound of straw breaking behind them caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. Emma quietly drew her sword from its sheath, turning to bring her blade against her assailant. Steel clashed against steel as the goblin she had spied in the dark corner of the taproom days ago slashed at her without pause. Emma turned her head slightly to see Killian was occupied fighting two other goblins, their green skin cut in several places and a reddish-black substance - their blood she realized - oozing from their wounds.
Emma turned to her own opponent, testing his defences for a weakness. The goblin’s long, bony fingers of the hand not gripping his sword made an attempt to grab her hair and Emma dodged him. After a few moments, Emma realized the goblin was leaving his right side open every time he attacked. Emma fented and dodged his blade while driving hers into his side. The goblin’s eyes snapped to hers in surprise. Emma withdrew her sword and stared at his failing body, shaking.
Killian appeared in a rush behind her, hand on her back. “Time to go, Swan. Get on your horse,” he commanded. Emma stood there, hands still shaking, watching the goblin bleed out in front of her.
“EMMA!” he shouted, dismounting and at her side in seconds. He took notice of the corpse in front of them, understanding dawning on his features. “Emma, you had to. It was you or him and I’m rather glad it wasn’t you. We must go,” he urged, panic in his voice at the sounds of others preparing to arrive.
When she didn’t move, he physically grabbed her waist and flung her over his shoulder. He threw her into her saddle and vaulted into his own. Killian took off at a gallop and Emma was grateful Arion followed without her commanding him too. She had taken a life. The goblin had been an assassin or maybe just a thief but Emma grappled with her actions. Arion galloped at full speed just behind Killian’s gray, putting as much distance between them and the danger of the inn.
After nearly three hours of hard riding, Killian pulled up and guided them off the road to a stream, letting the horses drink freely and relax after the hard ride. He turned to Emma and without words, gathered her into his arms, as she crumpled against him. Emma sobbed and he simply held her as one would a crying child. Eventually Emma dried her eyes and reluctantly withdrew from his embrace.
“I feel a guilt I can’t shake. I know if I hadn’t chosen as I did that I’d be the dead body in that stable, but that doesn’t make it easier. Will it ever be easier?”
Emma could sense the empathy he felt for her situation. “I wish I could lie to you, but you’ll never forget your first,” he sighed, hand swiping his wind-blown hair out of his face. “For me, all my years as a pirate, I was a ruthless man at times. I’ve killed more than I can remember. Sometimes it haunts me, all this blood on my hands,” he held out his hands towards her. “I feel the shame of it at the worst times. I shove it away and move on. If I look back, I’m lost,” he confessed, sitting down on the sandy bank of the river.
Emma studied him for several minutes. This enigma in front of her, this man who had dealt more death in his life than Emma could even fathom, and yet he seemed to be weighed down and felt some measure of regret. If I look back, I’m lost, he said it like one might a prayer or mantra, something oft repeated to help him bury the regrets of the past.
Emma sat on the sand next to him. “So now what do we do?” she whispered, pulling her knees to her chest, resting her head on top of her arms, looking out at the horses they wandered up the grassy embankment.
Killian removed a dagger from his boot and held it out to her. It was an ordinary dagger, she looked at him puzzled. His hand passed over it as she held in both hands. It transformed in her hands to kris dagger made of the finest steel, inlaid with a black obsidian, a name inscribed along the length of the blade. She open her mouth to speak and Killian’s finger pressed to her lips, silencing her.
“Don’t say the name,” he warned, taking his finger from her lips. She nodded.
“This controls him. I’ve hunted it for a very long time,” Killian said.
“If it does as you say, why wouldn’t he carry it with him?” Emma wondered aloud. Emma had always been warned by her various teachers that if an enemy knew her weakness, she would be extremely vulnerable.
“He buried it at the foot of the monument he erected for his son,” he said calmly. Emma listened intently as he wove a story of love, tragedy and vengeance. Emma’s heart constricted watching Killian relive the worst of his memories.
“I’m sorry,” Emma apologized. She almost wished she hadn’t asked but to make sound choices going forward, she needed to be able to see the whole board.
“Thank you, but you have nothing to apologize for. Anyway, this blade was once part of a mystical blade, Excalibur, forged here in Danann by the great wizard Merlin. For the research I’ve done here in Danann and in the realm of men, the sword is rumored to be hidden in the town of Camelot.”
“Camelot doesn’t exist,” Emma insisted.
“It does. And it’s here in Danann. The birthplace of the first Dark One. We must retrieve the other half and use this,” he pulled a small box from his coat pocket, “to reforge the sword. Once the broken blade is renewed, one nick from it will cut all immortal ties.”
Emma absorbed the new part of the plan. “But you don’t just mean to nick this warlock with the renewed blade, do you?”
When he turned, Emma could see bloodlust and anger in his blue eyes, making him look a madman. “No. No, I do not. I intend to stab him through the heart. Or in the chest as it is unlikely the monster even has a heart.”
Emma said nothing about his plan. She hauled herself from the ground, brushing the sand and dirt from her breeches and mounted Arion. Killian shook off the demons on his mind and mounted up as well. “Lead the way,” she nodded.
Emma had a lot of time to think as they rode. After their short respite, they rode hard again, stopping only for the bare necessities of water, sustenance and to relieve themselves. Two days passed this way. In silence. Killian seemed determined to make sure the distance between the two of them was as great as the distance between their current location and Shadowman’s inn.
She simply had to take cues from his behavior to know what might be expected of her. Not that reading his body language was a problem for someone who had lived in a royal court her whole life, Emma wondered at the change. He had shown her glimpse that he wasn’t just a bloodthirsty pirate. Emma knew he wasn’t whenever he used his magic. If he had been the evil man he seemed to want her to believe, she would’ve sensed it in his magic.
He always seemed of two natures and Emma knew what it was like to feel like two parts of herself were at war with the other. Emma was human and Fae, but she didn’t exactly fit in either world. She knew very little about the realm of her mother’s origin and there was much Emma still had to learn about her own power she wouldn’t learn at home. And at home, she couldn’t truly fit in because she was different, not entirely human and it bred a distrust among some people. There was one person who could give her answers but he wasn’t taking.
After the third day of silence, Emma had had enough. In the middle of the path she pulled Arion to a stop and jumped down. Arion followed her after a brief flicker of his head towards Killian.
“I’ve had enough of the silence. It’s maddening,” Emma bellowed, crossing her arms over her chest. Killian looked taken aback, red creeping alone his neck to the tip of his ears. Whether in anger or desire, Emma had no clue.
“Swan, I-,” Emma cut him off with a harsh glance. “Don’t make excuses. We agreed to be allies in this assine quest. I even got answers that I’ve searched for for months all within days of meeting you, but I almost regret this trip now. I don’t know what you hope to accomplish, but walling yourself off isn’t going to make it easier for me to trust you when this plan inevitably goes to hell. So cease acting like a child!”
“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I will do better.”
“Thank you. I have never in my life met another half-Fae. I was curious about your life, what you know about our kind. Maybe you can tell me as we journey towards Camelot?” Emma prompted.
“Seeing as it will take three weeks to reach Camelot and another three to reach your grandmother’s stronghold where the monster resides, I suppose that it not an unreasonable request,” Killian confirmed.
“You were going to be silent for six whole weeks?” Emma shrieked.
“It’s not the longest I’ve gone without talking to another soul. That number would be more like three and a half years,” Killian laughed at the horrified look Emma knew must be plastered on her face.
Killian seemed to be lighter once Emma snapped him out of his stupidity. During the day they would ride and share stories of their lives. At night they made camp, and he would tell her tales of the peoples of Danann, its history and its magic. Emma’s short years meant she listened to Killian’s life story more often than not. She had been right that he had lived many lifetimes. He was nearly three times her mother’s age. He didn’t hide any of the unpleasant parts of his past, often looking away when he told a tale that involved him as the villain. He would always follow such stories with self-deprecating humor and tales that had Emma roaring with laughter.
Emma had never laughed so much in her life as she did when they shared bits of their embarrassing moments. Sometimes she felt a wistful longing when they laughed together.
“I was so drunk, I stumbled on to my ship to the wheel where I lashed myself to it to keep me upright. Once I was finished I promptly passed out. When I awoke my helmsman, Anderson, was standing so close to me that I could feel his co- his um, presence against my arse. His hands spread on either side of my head to grasp the wheel. He made a suggestion in my ear and I was still too drunk not to take him up on it. He was very good with his hands,” Killian smirked, lost in the memory.
Emma looked away, half disgusted by the implication, yet still half aroused at thoughts of her own hands exploring the Captain’s body. Emma shifted uncomfortably in her saddle, sighing a little at the friction her movement brought. Killian’s head whipped around to look at her. He heard her. Emma burned crimson, a color she felt all the way to the tips of her own half pointed ears. He continued on with a different story, but Emma could feel his steely blue gaze fixed on her the rest of the day’s ride.
In the nearly four weeks she had known him, she knew her attraction to him was undeniable. His dark hair that he ran his fingers through so often it seemed like a tic. His blue eyes that seemed as changeable as the sapphire seas he loved and thick eyebrows that could convey an entire conversation separate from his words. He was a very well educated man who told her of his collection of books back on his ship. Killian was so smart and witty (and damn if he didn’t know it, the bastard), they could spar verbally for hours on end. He also challenged her to spar with him and more often than not ended up correcting her form or critiquing her technique. Emma tried not to let her irritation cloud her learning, Sir Lancelot’s and her Father’s lessons of ‘don’t lose focus’ and ‘remember not to let your emotions cloud your actions in warfare’ always in her mind. After their sparring, blood running high, Emma thought about grabbing him by his lapel and dragging his face to her lips. Which she didn’t do - wouldn’t do, but very much wanted to.
As the sun was getting low, he suggested they stop to camp for the night. They had been following the river for weeks and not once had Emma taken advantage of its cool waters.
“We should reach our destination tomorrow,” Killian said as he lit the fire and stored his flint. Emma was glad to find as much as he was versed in magic, he preferred to do simple tasks without it as often as possible.
“I’m going to go down to the river. I haven’t had a bath in weeks and there is only so much my magic can do for me before I need the actual thing,” she grimaced, referring to her magical hygiene routine. She turned her head over her shoulder and winked at him before she beat a hasty retreat.
Why had she done that? Emma focused on her destination and task at hand. Simply magicking the dirt away was effective but Emma loved the feel of the water and she just needed to do one thing she truly wanted to. It had nothing to do with the idea of a certain pirate gentleman who would be nearby with knowledge that she was naked in the river. Emma smirked as she shed her clothes and dove into the water.
Killian nodded soundlessly and stared at the hedgerow she had walked through long after she had disappeared. The bloody siren winked at him. For the love of the gods, she was trying to kill him. After he had seen her shifting and moaning in her saddle earlier in the day, he had been hard. He wanted to chase after her and run his fingers along her lithe form, to cup her cheek as he brushed his lips against her, to fuck her under the stars.
Killina groaned, his thoughts not helping his situation. Emma was a bright light in the darkness of his endless years. For the first time since Milah was alive, Killian felt some measure of happiness. He felt guilty at his feelings. He was never one to slowly slip into love. No, Killian Jones fell head first into it without thinking. Without realizing how lost he was until he was drowning.
Killian peeled off his duster and left it on the log beside the fire. He resolved himself and made his way to the shore. The moon was full again and he could see Emma was farther out in deeper waters. His clothes hit the sand in record time before he could think too much or talk himself out of it. When he reached the water’s edge, Emma turned to face the shore. Her eyes were wide as she took in his nakedness. She swam closer until he could see her emerald eyes, blown wide with shock and desire. He hadn’t been wrong then. She had meant for him to follow her. So he did.
When he reached her she was smiling as she tread water. He kept his distance still, wanting her to be sure. She closed the distance and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her pert breasts, floated buoyantly, her dusty pink areola brushing against his chest. She shivered at the contact. He ghosted his fingers along her jaw towards her forehead before tucking her wild, wet locks behind her ear.
“May I kiss you, Swan?” he asked, reverently pressing his thumb along the seam of her lips. Her mouth opened slightly and his thumb brushed against her tongue. He rubbed his thumb down her chin, tilting her open mouth to his.
His tongue tangled with hers as she pulled herself closer. He groaned into the kiss. Killian had never tasted anything sweeter, though the thought brought to mind something that might be just as sweet. Emma legs kept grazing over his cock and he could tell from the mischief twinkling in her look that it was not an accident.
“Let’s get out of this water,” Emma suggested, her voice hoarse. They swam the short distance quickly, he made it first so he could see her when she emerged. His eyes roamed over her, head to toe, pausing briefly at the thatch of darker curls covering her womanhood. Killian growled at the sight and picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her back to their fire.
Killian laid her down on his duster, relishing her naked form against the aged-leather. He kissed a trail from her lips to her breast, spending an age lavishing each nipple with attention before kissing the underside of each breast and continuing down in his exploration. Emma gasped when his hand pushed her thighs apart so he looked to her for her approval. A nod. Killian ran a finger though the slick residue and brought his finger to his lips. She was sweeter there. He lowered his tongue to her core, ignoring her yelp of surprise as it faded to soft mewls of pleasure.
He lapped at her teasingly, enjoying how her hips chased his mouth when the pressure lessened. He pressed a finger into her slowly opening her, waiting until she was relaxed and squirming before adding another and then another. Killian watched her chest heave as she struggled to breathe, fighting her body’s reaction.
“Let go, Emma,” Killian commanded as he fucked her harder on his fingers. Emma’s scream rang out through the deserted wood.
“Please, Killian, I want you,” Emma begged as he tried to disentangle himself.
“Are you sure?” He could walk away if she commanded him to, but he had never wanted anyone more in his life.
Emma guided him to lay down. She straddled him and positioned herself over his cock. She sank onto him in one swift motion and Killian couldn’t help the curses that left his lips. She stilled when they were fully joined.
“Are you alright?” He knew there was discomfort for a woman’s first time, which was hardly fair.
“Yeah, it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Just feels strange,” Emma muttered, clearly overwhelmed by the sensations.
“You should move, love,” his hands settled on her hips and helped her move up and down on his length.
Soon his hands wandered her body, no longer needed to help her find her pace. She looked like a goddess above him, riding him under the moonlight. Her long blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders, covering her breasts until she pulled it behind her head. Emma’s movements were becoming more erratic so Killian leveraged his strength and flipped their positions. He slipped out of her before lining up and pushing in with a hard thrust. He wasn’t going to last much longer. Her hands were wrapped around her breasts as he bucked against her. His thumb trailed down her body and pressed on her clit as he increased his pace. Green eyes met blue and in that moment, he was certain they were a perfect reflection of the other. Her core tightened around him and she hollered his name. He pumped his hips twice more and followed her into blissful aftermath.
Killian woke a few hours later, Emma curled to his side, blankets covering their naked forms from the chill in the night air. He drifted back to sleep, mission forgotten in the arms of the woman he loved.
The next morning they roused themselves and broke camp as usual, but with a lot of pausing to kiss,  touch or hold each other. Arion and Kelan neighed loudly at them several times to hurry them on their way. It took only four hours to reach their destination, a large moss-covered boulder that sat before an ancient ruin, the castle of Arthurian legend. In the center of the stone, the hilt of a sword was visible. He and Emma shared a look of triumph as they trotted to a stop in the clearing. Once they were free of their mounts, they approached the stone.
There was a barely discernible inscription carved on the bottom of the stone: Whosoever wields this sword, be he worthy, shall possess power over life and death.
“Go ahead, love,” Killian encouraged, “Take the sword and we shall bind it together with the promethean flame.”
Wide-eyed, she shook her head. “Love, as much as I wish I could do this, I’m not worthy. But you, you are pure and wonderful. Do it,” Killian ordered.
Emma had to climb onto the stone until she stood next to the blade. Both hands grasped it and tugged  and it let loose without resistance, shocking Emma but apparently not Killian.
She clambered down and passed over the broken blade. Killian retrieved the little box from his pocket and set it on the ground. It was a white mass but there was no fire to it. Killian knew he would have to give something up for it to work. All magic had a price.
“For the first time in my life, I’m not afraid of the future,” Killian breathed to Emma, resting his forehead against hers.
He turned to find the flame was lit. He held the pieces over the flame and within seconds, they were joined. He stood and handed her Excalibur. “For you, my darling Princess.”
Emma accepted the blade in awe, promptly leaning it against the rock so she could embrace Killian. “I was worried when I found I would live forever, that time spanned empty before me. Eternity with you might not be so bad.” Killian laughed and kissed her. “Or growing old with you if we chose.”
“To die would be an awfully big adventure,” Killian laughed, stepping away from her.
“I couldn’t agree more,” the voice of his nemesis cried gleefully. Killian grunted as he felt something hit him in the stomach. He looked down to see Excalibur sticking out of his chest before he collapsed to his knees.
Emma watched in horror as the unattended sword flew through the air and impaled Killian. The monster with the yellow eyes stood before her along with a woman clothed in a black leather riding outfit. Emma realized the dark haired woman accompanying the monster was Regina.
“See Rumple, I told you they would do all the work if you let them live,” Regina cackled.
“Indeed, dearie. Per our deal the girl is yours to do with as you please and Excalibur is mine, once I pry it from the pirate’s corpse.” Rumple clapped his hands together and hopped jubilantly.
“I won’t let you have that sword without a fight!” Emma vowed, kneeling next to Killian.
“You have to take the sword, love,” Killian encouraged.
“If I do, then you’ll bleed out!”
“I’m going to die anyway, remember? The sword reforged cuts immortal ties.” His eyes pleaded her to take the sword and defend herself.
She stood back and as she pulled the blade from his gut, he let out a terrible scream. Regina came for her first, her own sword in hand.
“Magic is too good for you, half breed!” Regina charged her.
Emma found that the Queen’s skills with a blade left something to be desired, perhaps from an overreliance on magic. When Emma saw her opening, she struck hard and true, slashing across the Queen’s chest. The other woman fell to the ground, a look of complete shock on her face as she fell forward into a pool of her own blood.
Rumpelstiltskin looked a little impressed Emma had taken out his pawn. Emma stalked towards him sword in hand. He looked like he wanted to fight, changing in an instant to looking as though he wished to flee but he was immovable as the mountain. Emma glanced at the blade, the man’s name still emblazoned on the portion that made up the kris dagger. Emma realized she still had command of him as his name was bound to the sword she wielded.
“Whosoever wields this sword, be he worthy, shall possess power over life and death,” Emma muttered, scrutinizing the blade.
“Come here!” she ordered. The demon walked towards her grudgingly. When the scaly man was close enough, “Hold out your hand and do not move a muscle,” Emma ordered. A palm outstretched in front of her as the monster stood rigid per her order.
Emma drew the blade across the monster’s palm, ignoring his screams. Emma waved her hand and he was silenced by a gag, hands and feet bound. Emma felt relief for a brief moment until the triumph died with the realization Killian was dying. She turned on her heel and sprinted to Killian’s side, placing her hands over his wounds. She willed her magic to heal him to no avail.
“That will not work, child,” a familiar voice called out. Magnus, her once-teacher, knelt at her side. Emma thought he knew nothing of her mother’s people, of the Fae.
“There will be time for questions later,” he chided, sensing her train of thought as he had always done. “To save him, you must bind your heart to his.”
“No,” Killian begged weakly. “I won’t let you do that. If you’re wrong, old man, she’ll die and I’d rather die a thousands deaths than see her die before my eyes.”
“And I cannot imagine a thousand lifetimes without you. I promise, you will be alright,” Emma said, pressing a kiss to his pale lips. Turning to Magnus, “What must I do?”
“You must remove your heart which I will split. One half for you, the other for him. This is considered a sacred bond of marriage that nothing but death can break. Do you understand and choose to proceed?”
Emma bowed her head in agreement. Killian mumbled his assent quietly. Per Magnus’ instruction, Emma plunged her hand into her chest and with a sharp tug, pulled out a glowing red heart. She placed it in Magnus’ hand and when he rent it two, Emma let out a yelp but brushed aside Killian’s concerns. She knew that if she survived her heart being cleaved in two, there was nothing left to fear. Emma felt the moment Killian’s heart stopped beating as though she too had stopped breathing. She never dreamed he would die, succumbing to wounds Rumpelstiltskin inflicted. Sobbing, Emma healed the open wound on his abdomen, praying the ceremony would bring him back to her. She was confident today was not the end as Magnus had already begun the ceremonial blessings. If wrong, Emma knew with certainty she would find him in the life beyond.
“Two souls, one life. Two halves, one heart. From this day until your last day,” Magnus intoned, quickly shoving one half of the heart into each of their chests. After a tense, unending moment, Killian gasped for breath. He shot up, confused. touching his chest, then Emma’s face.
“Swan? How?” he asked, kissing her her fiercely before she could respond.
“I bound my heart to you, my beating heart has enough love, enough life, for both of us,” Emma cried, throwing her arms around him, burying her head in the crook of his neck, the passing of time unnoticed.
The sound of throat clearing had Emma whipping around to address her teacher. “Master Magnus, how did you know?”
“This was my home once, when Camelot was more than a ruin. Guarding the Grail was my duty, until duty led me to become the teacher to a wonderful young princess,” he smiled at fond memories.
“Isn’t the Grail a chalice?” Emma asked, confused.
“It was once, before my master forged it to a weapon to break immortal ties. Now it can be a chalice once again,” Magnus said, conjuring the promethean flame from the ground to his palm. He held the sword over the flame and it morphed into a chalice of silver, inlaid with the obsidian design like the blade.
Magnus offered her the chalice. “Killian was right when he told you there is always a choice.”
“If I- if we drink from this chalice then we’ll grow old and die?” Emma asked in awe.
Magnus nodded. “You’ve bound your hearts in love and in life. With this,” offering the chalice a second time, “in death and what lies beyond. For a mortal, it would grant life eternal if one was worthy.”
Magnus paused for a long moment before adding, “Though I think you may want to wait at least nine months before you decide.”
Killian looked back and forth from Magnus to Emma in shock and disbelief until understanding dawned and his hand rested gently on her stomach.
Emma looked at Killian, tears in her eyes as she smiled. She wasn’t afraid any longer. She knew what she wanted. Emma wasn’t certain about what tomorrow might hold. Rumplestiltskin once told Killian that love didn’t last, that true love wasn’t real, but she and Killian were living proof of how wrong he had been. She had shared her immortality with him and couldn’t regret that.
Perhaps at some point, maybe in fifty years, a hundred, or a thousand years, they may decide to drink from the chalice, breaking their immortal bonds to live a single mortal life and journey to whatever life awaited beyond this one. Perhaps not. Even in the end, it was all a matter of choice.  
Killian’s grin matched hers as he realized her choice.
“To die would be an awfully big adventure,” Killian said, echoing his earlier sentiment.
“No,” Emma protested, “To live will be an awfully big adventure.“
Fin
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twistednuns · 4 years
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January 2021
Creating art is about growing the world and increasing its reach, and it has more to do with the act of creation itself than what is actually made. Anything that animates us creatively in a positive way — be it the grand design of a great architectural wonder or the Big Bang of a child’s drawing — is a re-enactment of the original creation story. Whether we realise it or not, making art is a religious encounter as it is our attempts to grow beyond ourselves that energise the soul of the universe. (Nick Cave on shitty art)
Seeing the old library guy having dinner table with his wife. They even lit a candle. How celebratory.                                                                       
Writing a birthday message for Frank about my new beginnings and first days of the year.
Making my nails look as if I had dipped my fingertips into a jar of silver glitter.
How black and glossy blueberries suddenly become after being coated in my warm coconut porridge.
Shinto does not strictly divide the world between material and spiritual, nor between this world and an alternative perfect realm, but instead emphasises that intuitive spirituality facilitates the fusion and equilibrium of all realm. - Why Haruki Murakami is so very Japanese
Sporting a hickey on my neck like a basic 16-year-old.
Going new paths (on my daily walk).
Feeling really grateful for the habits I established last year. A daily walk, taking helpful supplements, flossing, hair and face masks before every shower. Cold showers! A reasonable bedtime. I'm incredibly excited about forming new habits this year! The first ones to tackle are meditation, strength training and a daily creativity practice.
Suddenly imagining the taste of strawberry sauce. Anticipating the first spaghetti ice-cream of the year.
Loving kindness meditation (!) and smiling meditation. Spotify's Wake Up/Wind Down podcast is really quite good, too.
Cracking the impossibly hard to reach spot in my back by twisting and stretching my right leg (who knew).
The first tulips of the year on my nightstand. I chose a dark yellow, almost ochre.
Sparkling water with passion fruit juice. All I could think of during the last minutes of a long and cold walk. Getting undressed. Stretching. Meditation.
Vivid dreams of diving. How I miss being underwater. At least I got to do it in the nightly virtual reality show, eh?
Walking in a winter wonderland. I hate snow but I do admit it's quite pretty when the whole forest is covered in white.
A friendly nod from the delivery guy with the amazing curls.
Running into the neighbourhood's wild cat. Giving him a good scratch.
My new salt crystal lamp. I love its warm light.
The random house on a street nearby with the word nest next to its doorbell. Is that really the family's name? Or just what they call their house? (I would totally get that as nest is one of my favourite words)
Kalimba covers. With cat. Wholesome.
Sinking my face into a pair of warm tracksuit pants which had been drying on the heater. The warmth and the fresh laundry smell were so nice.
Plucking icicles.
The fact that the sidewalks aren't quite as icy and slippery anymore (I hate having no proper grip when I'm walking).
A gorgeous animal atlas with really pretty drawings in one of the boxes with free stuff people often put out these days.
Sarah Wilson. I could hardly put her new book down and immediately started reading her book about anxiety when I was finished. In a way I feel really connected to her. What an inspiring woman! Another thing I love is how she structures her books. She merely numbers her paragraphs, some only a few lines long, some a few pages.
The taste of strawberries. It's hard to describe but somehow it lights up my brain? Can I say that?
Osteopathy. I don't know what she does or how she does it but Laura has magic hands. My body feels completely healed after a session with her.
Simply walking everywhere. I get my steps in and don't have to deal with annoying public transport or my shitty bike.
Peeking out of my shell: looking at people I came across on an early walk and saying good morning.
Little yellowhammer birds on my balcony. I've never seen them before around here. And the tiniest bird on one of my walks through the forest. Perhaps a wren?
Dreaming of India. Visiting a local family, inquiring about a "somatic reading" (whatever that is) but deciding that it was too expensive and watching them prepare food instead. Talking to the grandmother. Riding to their restaurant on the market in a little wagon together.
Lying in bed after taking a shower, bathing in sunlight.
Dorky donkey confetti paper tissues.
A very soothing video of a cat purring loudly got me through a lousy Thursday. I kept coming back to it every couple of hours and it actually helped.
I'm currently watching Chilling Adventures of Sabrina on Netflix. It was a bit hard to get into it at first because it's SO different from the series with Melissa Joan Hart I used to watch as a teenager but ever since that cheerleading scene where Sabrina and Ros perform to RUN DMC's It's Tricky I'm absolutely sold.
The other day there was a lady just standing at the edge of a field, watching her dog run around in the snow, enjoying the sunset. A very peaceful image.
More tulips: red ones this time, a smaller variety. I loved watching them blossom.
Collecting ideas and yellow objects for a yellow-themed letter.
These baby blue and pink sunrises I have been seeing lately.
A new magic trick: summoning dogs by simply holding their gaze for a while.
I hate snow. I really do. But I love how bright the light suddenly is. I smile apologetically at people shovelling snow when I walk by. The other day I stood under a branch when a couple shook the tree and let the snow fall down. I would have been mad if it hadn't been for my umbrella.
When the first and last bits of light colour the tree tops in a warm, gold and orange colour during sunrise and sunset.
The smell of my armpits (have we all stopped using deodorant during lockdown and are suddenly able to smell our armpits or is it just me) made me remember kids carnival parties at our local sports club. We wore cheap costumes made from synthetic fabric and were all super sweaty from running around all day as princesses, vampires and cowboys on a sugar high.
Learning the reason why snow melts faster under trees.
Listening to the New York Times' The Daily podcast. More speficially the Sunday Read (which mostly seems to feature the topics I'm really interested in). There was the wonderfully whimsical episode about the Cloud Appreciation Society. I'd never realised that Joni Mitchell's song Both Sides Now is about seeing shapes in clouds ("pareidolia"): Rows and flows of angel hair / And ice cream castles in the air / And feather canyons every where / Looked at clouds that way. Then there was this other episode about Moonstruck, a movie starring Cher and Nicholas Cage. At the end they keep playing the film music for a while before the episode slowly fades out. I was walking down a snowy alley and felt like the heroine in a late 90's movie (which I could also describe as end-of-century now, how peculiar).
Pelvic floor training. I have more strength, I'm taller and it somehow keeps straightening my back? I'm really impressed of how effective it is and am planning on learning more about the Cantienica method.
I know I'm late to the game but last night I watched the whole first season of Emily in Paris in one go. I needed something to cheer my up and, oh my, did Emily deliver. Well, not really her, but Paris. Everything about the serious can only be described as delicious. The food, the man candy, the fashion, colours and backdrop. While watching I kept thinking about outfit planning, exotic cuisine, roadtrips, kissing strangers, enjoying the good life. Oh how much I miss it. I feel awfully trapped in my apartment these days. One last thing I need to highlight: Sylvie, played by Philippine Leroy-Beaulieu, who is the real star of this series for me. She is just SO chic.
More light! I actually stand a chance to get home before sunset now when I head out late-ish for one of my daily walks.
A good talk with Lena. Home-made ramen. Watching en episode of Planet Earth and Blue Planet each.
Sourdough pizza with goat cheese, honey and fresh truffle.
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whyspeakin · 5 years
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Northern Atolls Maldives
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Northern Atolls Maldives
  Northern Atolls Maldives Explained in Details
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLMzIV2Dg0E
Northern Atolls Maldives Map
The least developed region of the Maldives, the Northern Atolls are pure tropical island escapism territory. While traditionally the tourism zone has only ever included the three atolls directly to the north of North Male' Atoll, there are another six even further north that has been gradually opening up to tourism as new islands are earmarked for development by the government. These atolls remain almost totally unknown by foreigners, and this is a great place to visit for a taste of untouched, traditional Maldivian life.  Maldivian history owes much to this part of the country - Mohammed Thakurufaanu, the man who drove the Portuguese out in the 16th century, was born on the island of Utheemu in Haa Alif Atoll, which remains a place of historical pilgrimage today for Maldivians who come to see his small wooden mansion. There's also huge diving potential throughout the region; there are wrecks along the western fringe of the atolls, but these are only now being properly explored and documented. In the Northern Atolls, there are only 16 functioning resorts at present, making this an uncrowded and truly remote part of the country to visit. Tourism is slowly set to expand here, with a number of islands earmarked for development in previously tourist-free Haa Dhaal and Shaviyani Atolls. About 200km beyond Lhavandhippolhu Atoll, at the country's northern tip, lies the Lak­shadweep Islands, which have had a long association with the Maldives. Formerly known as the Laccadives, these islands are now Indian territory, but geologically they are part of the mostly submerged Laccadive-Chagos ridge that underlies all of the Maldives and extends down to the Chagos Archipelago.
HAA ALIF ATOLLS
                                            Ihavandhippolhu Traditionally known as Ihavandhippolhu and North Thiladhunmathee Atolls, the very northern tip of the Maldives is generally known to one and all as Haa Alif Atoll, even though this refers to an administrative dis­trict that actually comprises the small, Trap- Ezoid-shaped Lhavandhippolhu Atoll and the northern tip of North Thiladhunmathee Atoll, which together have 16 inhabited is­lands and a population of just under 14,000. On Minicoy, the largest island of the Lak­shadweep Islands, people speak a language very similar to Divehi and readily under­stand the Maldivian language themselves Uligamu The second northernmost island, Uligamu (population 267) is the ‘clear in’ port for private yachts - it has health and immigra­tion officers as well as National Security Service (NSS) personnel, so yachts should be able to complete all formalities here (see pl81). Following a feasibility study, the government has decided to establish a yacht marina in the Northern Atolls, but Uligamu has been ruled out for financial and environmental reasons. The capital island is Dhidhdhoo (popula­tion 2500), which offers good anchorage for passing yachts. Huvarafushi, the next largest island, is noted for its music, dancing and sporting activities, and it also has a fish-freezing plant. The island of Utheemu (population 520) is the birthplace of Sultan Mohammed Thakurufaanu, who, with his brothers, overthrew Portuguese rule in 1573. A me­morial to this Maldivian hero, with a small museum and library, was opened in 1986. Thakurufaanu’s wooden palace has been re­stored and Maldivians come to pay homage to their national hero. Kelaa {population 1200) was the northern British base during WW1I, mirroring Gan at the other end of the archipelago. The mosque here dates from the end of the 17th century. Yams and Cadjan (mats made of coconut palm leaves) are the island’s products. Resorts If you’re arriving after a long-haul flight in the Maldives, bear in mind that selecting a resort in the far north of the country will add on at least two hours to your journey each way - often more, depending on flight timings. Many travellers have complained that this made all the difference to their moods on arrival and suggested we men­tion it here! Cinnamon island Resort & Spa Location: Alidhoo island  www.dnnamonhotels.com https://www.cinnamonhotels.com/cinnamondhonvelimaldives Distance: Airport transfer by plane then speedboat total 80min Capacity: 100 rooms A flagship hotel for the Sri Lankan Cinnamon Hotels group. Alidhoo is an al­most perfectly circular island, with heavy foliage in its centre and a dazzling beach in parts, meaning that it certainly looks the part from afar. However, the island it­self has no lagoon, with the resuit that it is particularly vulnerable to shifting sands at any time of the year and so the beach moves and can sometimes be a little small and disappointing. The accommodation is of high standard, though, ranging from smart and spacious beach villas that have their own outdoor jacuzzis to duplex water villas, all decked out in bright tropical colours and with some terrific ocean views. The lack of a lagoon means that swimming in the sea is not always the experience it should be, though the resort does have a fantastic and large infinity pool. The food gets rather mixed reports - the mainstay is a decent buffet, whiie the a la carte restaurants get better feedback. Other facilities include a dive school, water sports centre, library, sumptuous Mandara Spa and the usual host of excursions. This is a decent upper- to mid-level place with serious top-end aspirations. Given the long journey up to the north, however, con­sider carefully if you want to come all this extra way.
Island Hideaway
Island Hideaway Location: Dhonakhli island https://www.hideawaybeachmaldives.com/ Distance: Airport transfer by plane then speedboat total 80min Capacity: 43 rooms Certainly true to its name - located about as remote as you can imagine in the Maldives’ most northerly atoll. But while some re­sorts might Blanche at the idea of being so far removed from Male’ and the busy international airport. Island Hideaway has effortlessly capitalised on it, after all, many guests arrive here by private jet at the nearby Hanimaadhoo airport, or by yacht, which can be berthed at the resort itself (there are 30 berths for yachts up to 80m - all state of the art and installed by Walcon Marine). When Island Hideaway opened in 2005 it was a sensation and has remained a much-talked-about benchmark in Maldivian lux­ury since then. Set on a gorgeous crescent­shaped island with beaches 1.5km long on both sides, this is without a doubt one of the most beautiful resorts in the country. The five categories of rooms start with the standard Funa Pavilions on the beach which at 176 sq metres are still rather large. These white-walled houses have sepa­rate bedrooms and living rooms, teak floors throughout, slate and onyx finished out­door bathrooms, ail possible conveniences from DVD players to espresso machines, and feature their own gardens. The aston­ishingly grand water villas and the incred­ible two Hideaway Palaces (1420 sq metres of faintly ridiculous exclusivity coming in at around US$4000 per night) make up the top end of the resort’s accommodation. The pampering extends to the Mandara Spa, the infinity pool, a range of restaurants and boutiques. The pristine reefs around the island and the untouched sites further afield make another great reason to come here, while the Meridis Diving School www. meridis.de is exceptionally smart with lux­ury boats and tiny groups, but inevitably expensive. Some visitors have complained that there are a lot of kids here - unusual perhaps for a resort in this category; it’s certainly fair to say that the resort is a child- friendly and has a great (free) kids club. So there you have it: this resort is one of the most exclusive and reclusive in the country (discretion and understatement being its unofficial slogan). So if having a handmade soap menu seems normal to you, you’ll fit right in.   Beach House at Manataru Location: Manafaru Island; www.be3chhausecollection.com Distance:  Airport transfer by plane then speedboat total 120min The most northerly resort in the country. It opened in late 2007, clearly, with an eye to trumping nearby Island Hideaway as the luxury resort, everyone was talk­ing about. It hasn’t quite worked out like that, however. We’ve heard quite a few complaints from people who’ve paid these prices (the rack rates are slightly higher here than at Island Hideaway) and felt the place wasn’t really up to scratch, though in fairness management does seem determined to overcome these teething problems and fix what’s wrong. Bear in mind that due to its location this resort takes longer to reach from Male’ International Airport than any other in the country, and so guests should rightly expect everything to be top-notch once they arrive. The rooms are without a doubt gor­geously designed, with the starting category alone being an enormous 152 sq meters, going up to the 693 sq meter Grand Beach Pavilion. The look is minimal but stylish with Asian touches such as dark wood fit­tings and rattan chairs. The resort also has all the facilities you’d expect at these prices three restaurants, three bars, a gorgeous spa, dive centre and butler service 'to an­ticipate your needs’. There is no house reef, however, mean­ing that the sea can be rather rough and that there’s little to see for snorkellers. Another eyebrow-raiser is that wi-fi is an incredible US$27.50 per day. Service and food have been said to be hit and miss in the past, and while this can be said for many resorts, it’s unusual to hear such a complaint about a place in this price bracket.  
HAA DHAAL
Haa Dhaal is an administrative district com­prising some 16,000 people spread over 16 inhabited islands and made up of South Thi-Ladhunmathee Atoll (the central section of an elongated reef and lagoon formation ex­tending over 150km north to south) and the far smaller Maamakunudhoo Atoll (a narrow oval of reefs, about 20km to the west). Kulhuduffushi is the capital island and also the most populous, with 7000 peo­ple. It has been chosen by the government as the Maldives’ northern regional centre and has a hospital, secondary school, and all basic services. The traditional speciali­ties here are rope making and shark fish­ing, though a national ban introduced in 2009 by the Maldivian government has forced local shark fishermen to hunt for other fish. The regional airport is on Hanimaadhoo (population 1200). Maldiv­ian has flights to and from Male’ on most days - and this is the only runway in all the Northern Atolls, so flights are busy. There was a hotel being built on Hanimaadhoo at the time of writing, which will provide FITs with the opportunity to stay over in a medium-sized Maldivian town en route to their resort if they’d like to see more of the local culture. The highest natural point in the Maldives, at about 3m above sea level, is on Faridhao (population 87), where there are ancient Buddhist ruins. On Kumundhoo there’s a stone circle that seems to be the base of Bud­dhist stupa, and Hawitta (artificial mound) remains can still be seen on Vaikaradhoo. The area around Haa Dhaal suffers se­vere storms, and quite a few vessels have gone down in these waters. Maamakunud­hoo Atoll is the graveyard of several ships, including the English ships Persia Mer­chant, wrecked here in 1658, and the Hay-ston, which ran onto a reef in 1819. In each instance, survivors were rescued by local people and treated with kindness, a source of great local pride. The islands of Hondaafushi, Naagoashi and Kudamuraidhoo have been allocated as resorts and the building is currently underway.  
SHAVIYANI
Looking at a modern map, the Shaviyani administrative district, made up of Milad-Hunmadulu Atoll and Thiladhunmathee Atoll, appears to be part of one elongated atoll enclosing a single, very long lagoon. Shaviyani administrative district comprises 15 inhabited islands with a total of 11,940 people. This atoll is most famous today as a major breeding ground for turtles, which breed successfully on its pristine beaches. The capital is Funadhoo (population 1520), a pretty island with the ruins of an ancient mosque and 13th-century tombstones. Narudhoo (population 426) is a tiny island with a natural freshwater lake on it - one of the very few places in the whole country where water collects above ground. The main mosque on the island of Kan-ditheemu (population 1150) incorporates the oldest known example of the Maldives’ unique Thaana script - it’s an inscription on a doorframe, which notes that the roof was constructed in 1588. Another famous island is uninhabited Nalandhoo, where the Thaku-rufaanu brothers hid their boat between guerrilla battles with the Portuguese. Zitahli Resort & Spa Dholhiyadhoo Mal­dives  www.zitahlidholhiyacihoo.com  the first resort in the atoll. Capacity: 100-room luxury The beautiful crescent island of Dhol- Hiyadhoo. A further four islands in the atoll have been earmarked for development into re­sorts.   Gaakoshibi Farukolhu Kam- baalifaru and Vagaru Capacity: 35-room Per Aquum spa resort called Maakaana.  
NOONU
The southern end of the Miladhunmadulu- Thiladhunmathee Atoll complex is called South Miladhunmadulu, and it forms the Noonu administrative district, compris­ing 13 inhabited islands with a combined total of just over 10,000 people. The capi­tal island, Manadhoo, has 1200 people, but Holhudhoo (population 1500) and Velidhoo (population 1700) are more populous. On the island of Landhoo (population 580) are the remnants of a hawitta supposedly left by the fabled Redin, a people who figure in Maldivian folklore. The hawitta is a 15m- high mound known locally as maa badhige (great cooking place). Thor Heyerdahl writes extensively about the tall, fairhaired Redin in his book The Maldive Mystery. He believes them to have been the first inhabitants of the Maldives, as long ago as 2000 BC. There are now two brand-new resorts open in Noonu, with a further four in the pipeline.    Irufushi Beach & Spa Resort Location: Medhafustii Island Website: www.irufushi.com Distance: Air­port transfer by seaplane 45min, This enor­mous development is impressive, from beach villas with charming thatched roofs to water bungalows with their own private pools. Decor is in a minimalist tropical-Asian style, with lots of black wood, rattan furniture and brightly coloured accents. As with many new resorts, there have of course been teething problems - we’ve heard some fairly unimpressed reports about the food and service in the restau­rants. While there is a range of restaurants, all-inclusive guests can only eat at the main buffet, which doesn’t seem to change much. Other facilities include a great spa, an ex­pensive diving school and water sports cen­tre. The house reef is perfectly OK without being spectacular, although there are some good dive sites nearby.    Zitahli Kuda-Fanafaru Maldives Location:  Kudafunafaru island Website:  www.zitahlikudafunafaru.com Distance: Airport transfer by seaplane 45min Noonu’s similarly new but far smaller and more exclusive- feeling resort, and the first of three Zitahli properties to open in the Maldives. The is­land itself is a real stunner, with wide pow­der-white beaches and thick foliage on a perfect lagoon. The rooms are similarly impressive - all are massive, from the 175 sq metre Deluxe Beach Villas to the Super Deluxe Beach Villa with its own pool at a massive 220 sq metres - you won’t feel crowded here! The design of the rooms is as fabulous as you’d expect at these prices, with higher catego­ries coming with their own large private pools and featuring every amenity you can think of - from espresso machines to rain showers to DVD players. The resort of­fers a full range of facilities from a dive school (very expensive) to a spa, freshwater swimming pool and water sports centre. Again, we've heard guests talk about bad service here, which seems to be typical for non-global brands. North and South Male Atolls Read the full article
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COOL CAT DVD PACKAGE FULL ANALYSIS
  As some of you may know, as a birthday present I have finally received the Cool Cat movie from a friend of mine. Seeing as I am the self-proclaimed front-runner of the ironic Cool Cat fandom, I feel it is my duty to provide you all with my full analysis of all that comes with this monstrosity, so strap in fellas, this is gonna be a long one.
  Here's an image of the full package:
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  Alright, let's start off with the "Thank you for your purchase" type paper.
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  Right off the bat, let me say that every paper (bar the "poster", though that one is still preeeetty bad, though I'll analyze that when we get to it) is literally just standard-fare 8.5x11 printer paper. Now, let's start from the top. It says "Cool Cat Productions" as opposed to Derek Savage Productions, what he listed in the movie from what I can remember, so that's pretty strange. To the sides you can see two horrendous pictures of the cartoon form of Cool Cat, which both look like they were drawn in different art styles, with the one on the right for some reason reminding me of some kind of old 2D Chuck E. Cheese drawing, and the other on the right appears to be crying out in pain with weirdly-detailed clothes, a curly pig-like tail, and looking like a failed attempt at perspective. After that it lists the website, (nothing new here) and the email, which uses Yahoo, which I find fairly unsurprising.
  Another thing I love which shows just how much love and care (sorry, "love" and "care") Derek puts into his products is the fact that it doesn't even specify what you ordered, (in addition, the fact that it lists "bookS", since Derek doesn't even have the Cool Cat books for sale, and the Cool Cat Stops Bullying book comes with every purchase of the DVD, and soundtrack, of which they don't sell at all, though I believe Derek stated something about wanting to sell it in the future) which really lets you know that Cool Cat Loves You in particular and cares who You are as a person. (The capitalization is really weird throughout the paper, especially when listing the various products you could have bought, really lending to the "Copy-paste" feel of the whole thing, and the Cool Cat Loves You part somehow evokes a ™ without one even being there.) Further down it asks you to print out free "Cool Cat Loves You" posters (instead of just saying Cool Cat posters, for whatever reason) which is strange for a vast number of reasons. First of all, the poster section of the website is NO LONGER ON THE WEBSITE, and second of all, using the Wayback Machine to go back to an instance when there was shows that the 11x17 "poster" is identical to the poster received in the movie package, which makes you wonder why you would want a second one. 
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  (One fun thing to note about this image is the fact that promises that Cool Cat greeting and birthday cards are "Coming Soon!" which I feel really shows you just how much commitment Derek has towards his projects.)
  Back to the original paper, we reach the bottom third of the page, we have Derek begging you to tell everyone you know about Cool Cat so that they know it's time to cut off all ties with you, followed by a call to follow the official twitter @CoolCatLovesYou, officially confirming that that twitter is indeed the real one, fucking weird and not-so as it may seem. Then there are a number of images of potential merchandise you can buy, mainly consisting of the horrendously drawn books that Derek isn't even selling because he's "still looking for a publisher." (Yeah, he couldn't get anyone to publish his books, what a fucking surprise, right? In addition, upon incredibly close inspection of these low-res images, I found that they don't even list the "Illustrated by" that's shown on the Cool Cat Stops Bullying book that came with the movie, since Derek wasn't actually the one who drew this shit. And it's not because it was only on the Cool Cat Stops Bullying book, since among the books on here IS that exact book, sans the "Illustrated by" like all others on the page. I just found that interesting.) Finally, reaching the very bottom of the FIRST ARTICLE OF LIKE 6 (told you it was gonna be a long one) we have a reminder to visit Cool Cat online for Game"s" (There's only one game on the Cool Cat page, "Cool Cat's Fun MatchGame") "Cartoons" (Neither of the two cartoons are accessible from the current page anymore) and More! (Which if by more you mean continuous self-advertising, shitty web design, and child-unfriendly content that can be easily clicked to from the page.) 
  Alright so, the next article, well, honestly I'm not sure what to call this one. It's got two sides, so let's start with the side I'll probably spend less time on.
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  Alright, so I guess this side is some kind of info paper? Still not sure what to refer to it as. If you notice at the top it lists the quote that's on the cover, "Cool Cat is Cooler than Barney the Dinosaur!" and I would like to bring to attention the fact that the quote is attributed to Ben Daka, the producer of Cool Cat Loves You, which helps in making the quote seem as incredibly unbiased as possible. (Also yeah, the fact that someone actually produced this steaming pile of dogshit surprises me likely just as much as it might you.) It proceeds to list the summary of the movie, saying what kinds of movies it is, etc. etc. etc. It also lists that it "Includes FOUR Original Cool Cat Songs" however as someone who has watched the movie before online when it was on Youtube for a brief day or two before getting taken down, I can say that there are only two that actually play in the movie proper, "Cool Cat Boogie" and "Cool Cat Loves To Rock", while one is only in the movie as an instrumental while the actual lyrics are only in the DVD menu from what I can remember ("Cool Cat is My Best Friend") and the other only plays during the credits, and is just the song from the now-defunct Cool Cat "cartoon" ("Cool Cat is Cool") however the one in the credits does have an instrumental track behind it, but I'm too lazy to find somewhere you can find that version at the moment.
  Moving on, we have the "STARRING" portion of the page, in which it lists Vivica A. Fox and Erik Estrada despite their 2-3 minute appearances. In addition, if read from right to left, then it technically lists Vivica first, and even if you do read it from center outwards, the way it was likely intended, it still has Derek listed where you would most likely begin reading instead of Cool Cat, which I feel really shows off his vanity.
After that, we have the imperative ">Get Your COOL CAT Today<" which makes it sound like some kind of cat adoption poster or something. After that there's the blatant lie of "We Appreciate Your Business" followed by a statement saying that discounts for schools, libraries, and stores are available, which honestly makes me wonder if there are any places that even carry the movie that aren't online. Also it's kinda weird that they'd have that on one of the papers that comes with the movie. Does Derek expect people to be so blown away by their movie that they just have to bring this flyer to stores and shit so that others can feel the joy of the movie? I don't fucking know this entire analysis is just me talking to myself and probably pointing out shit you could have noticed yourself, but hey if that's not what the blog itself is I don't know what is. Anywho, another fun thing to note is the fact that according to the flyer, the runtime of the movie is 75 minutes, which actually makes it debatable as to whether or not it could actually be considered a film. Final thing to note of this side is that I was indeed correct in my previous assumption that the movie was supposedly made by "a Derek Savage Productions" as opposed to the "Cool Cat Productions" stated on the earlier paper, which is weird.
Anywho, next side of the paper, let's go.
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  Now this side, this side infuriates me to no end. It's pretty much one glorified advertisement for the movie you already purchased. To save on time, I think I'll probably speed through this one tbh since the last time I wrote this thing it took me like 4 hours and it mainly consisted of pointing out every little thing on the page, so I'll just give the main things. First of all, why the fuck would you advertise your own movie in the flyer that comes with the fucking movie??? In addition, why does it advertise the books? As I previously established, the books aren't for sale, since Derek's still looking for a publisher. After that, it states that there are Cool Cat eBooks, which I'm pretty sure there aren't any, and they wouldn't even need a publisher I don't think. Also, just to point out, Derek actually managed to misspell merchandise as "MERCHINDISE" at the very top.
  The movie also claims to be a "DOVE AWARD" winner. After some research (I.E. one single google search) I found that the "Dove Award" is actually an award given to exceptional Christian music, so unless the soulful ballad of "COOL CAT IS COOOOOOL" won one of those, I find it highly doubtful that its correct. Next to it, you can see a logo with the words "FAMILY APPROVED" and "ALL AGES". This is the "award" Derek was actually talking about, which is really just an organization that makes sure that movies are family friendly, which sure is a real fucking accomplishment. Below that the flyer claims that it's **STARRING** Vivica A. Fox & Erik Estrada, who really nailed their 2 minute "starring" roles. After that there's some quotes, including one by the late Adam West, may he rest in peace, saying "Cool Cat is Cool!" despite the fact that on the Cool Cat site the quote from West actually says "Cool Cat is Fun!" which shows just how trustworthy this quote was, plus the fact that Derek most likely got the majority of celebrity quotes by walking up to them and asking them to say it. After that there's a quote of "I Love Cool Cat!" from Bo Derek, an actress starring in such great films as Tarzan the Ape Man,  Bolero, and my personal favorite, Ghosts Can't Do It. (All of those films had incredibly negative reception btw, apparently all three of which won her three seperate Golden Raspberry Awards). Finally, below the advertisement for some hideous hats and shirts, there's the godawful pun of "Get Your Cool Cat Purr-chindise" which manages to misspell the latter half of merchandise again, though on the current website, it says "Purr-chandise" so Derek had to have fixed it sometime, but seeing as this flyer is advertising the hats which only just came out a month or two ago, this flyer was made recently, so I don't fucking know.
Moving on, we've got the Cool Cat Loves You Poster.
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  The first thing to note is that the poster feels like it was made on 11x17 printer paper, and all-in-all feels really low quality. In addition, it's fairly creased and banged up since Derek apparently doesn't know that you're supposed to roll up posters when shipping them. The main thing I want to note that stands out to me is the fucking background. When I first got it, I thought Derek, like, spilled coffee on it or something, but when I went to look at those posters online using the Wayback Machine, I found that it was completely intentional. I have no worldly idea why anyone would think that this would make a good background, since it gives off either an accidental coffee spill vibe or a 1984-esque dilapidated post-apocalyptic "Big Brother is Watching" sign from it.
That's about all I have to say for the poster, so let's move on to the keychain.
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First of all, I'm debating whether or not to put this keychain anywhere since I would probably run a high risk of getting the shit kicked out of me. Anywho, there's not much to say here, it feels like a generic truck stop souvenir keychain, except the fact that Cool Cat is weirdly not centered is bothering me.
Here's the back side to the keychain.
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  Again, not much to say, other than the fact that I never want to see the question "Got Cool Cat?" ever again.
  Now we have the book that came with the movie, Cool Cat Stops Bullying. Here's the front cover:
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  As you can see the art is fucking hilarious and it looks like Cool Cat is being held at gunpoint. And again, I'd like to point out that it wasn't even Derek who drew this, it was some guy named Robert Rainbow. Imagine paying someone to draw your book and getting this in return. Also, fun thing to note, Daddy Derek is actually a cat in this one (Yes, that is actually supposed to be Derek, since Cool Cat refers to him as Daddy Derek in the book) which poses the question of why the ever-loving FUCK isn't Derek a cat in the movie? (I'll tell you why, it's because Derek still thinks he's hot and wants to show off his "body" in the movie, plus the fact that he was likely way too cheap to have more than one costume made, though it could have easily been avoided by not having the parents, namely Derek, show up often, or in such complex scenes, etc etc. You get the drift, it's just lazy and self-aggrandizing).
Following that, there's the back of the cover.
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  Again, not much to analyze in detail, except for the fact that Derek would apparently charge $3.49 for this shitty thing, despite the fact that you can read it in around 2 minutes or under.
  After that there's the side of the cover, which actually has some sad little tidbits of its own.
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  If you look closely enough, you can see that the book is fucking stapled together, which I find hilariously depressing. In addition, the publisher is sourced as "Blue Thunder Books" which from my extensive google searching towards the topic, doesn't seem to be a real publisher.
  I would love to post every page of the book itself, but I feel like that might be grounds for some kind of copyright takedown from Derek, though I'll continue looking for some legal way for you guys to see each page, since each one has an illustration, and they're fucking hysterical. Here's a single image for you guys as a little teaser:
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  Anywho, onto what you all have been waiting for, the main attraction, the only thing that was purchased and all this other junk just came with for free: The movie. You all have probably seen the box a hundred times, so there's not much for me to analyze there, but here's the front:
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  One thing I'd like to point out that I haven't seen anyone else discuss is the fact that Derek and Maria, though most notably Maria, are incredibly low quality and poorly cropped in, to the point where you can't really even make out Maria's face since it's so blurry.
Here's the back:
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And here's the side:
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  What's interesting to note here is the fact that on the top of the side there's two little icon image things, one of Cool Cat, and one of Vivica Fox, both of which are pretty low quality.
Anywho, enough stalling. Time to open this motherfucker up.
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  I'll be honest, when I first opened this thing up, the first thing I noticed was the smell, oddly enough. It's really hard for me to describe, though I will say it's a weirdly bitter, sour smell, maybe something like glue mixed with something else. I have no idea. Anywho, as it was previously pointed out by YMS, the image on the disc is literally a fucking sticker. Unlike YMS's, however, is the fact that it doesn't come off just by breathing on it, so I'm guessing it was just glued to the disc. In all honesty, I haven't even put the disc in my computer to play it yet, since I'm afraid I'll either somehow get a virus from it or that it'll melt inside my computer. I'll just put it in.
Okay, so after putting the disc in the DVD the Disc Drive I got this.
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Alright, so there are two folders, the audio one is empty. Great. Then there's the video one.
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No idea what this means. Guess I'll have to play it on a DVD player for now.
  Anywho, I guess that there wraps up my analysis! It was mainly me just blabbing on and on about things you probably don’t care about, and doesn't really have a conclusive "end'' or anything, but hey if anything else pops up I'll be sure to notify you guys. Thanks for reading this far if you did, and hopefully Tumblr won't crash before I can post it this time.
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forresthom-blog · 6 years
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23/02/19 The Story of the Most American Day of my Life... and Other Slighty Less American Days
This is the next installment of the Making of the Angels in Blue! You would have thought that after two weeks my wide-eyed wonder for all things American would begin to fade. Wrong. American culture is as vast as the country to which it belongs, and is the gift that keeps on giving. Last Monday, when I visited Alexandria’s President’s Day Parade, it was the most American day of my entire life. My other days, still very American, as you would expect, but not quite so unabashedly as my day in Alexandria.
At the end of last week, I finished my time at the National Archives and began my work at the Library of Congress. Yet, before I left the National Archives, a seemingly inconspicuous box on a trolley of around ten boxes was to hold the most exciting artefact I have handled on my trip to date. The box contained letters sent to the Surgeon General of the United States during the Civil War. Most were all the same: small pieces of discoloured paper, filled with illegible scrawls. However, one had a paperclipped note attached - it read, ‘to be digitised’. I pulled the piece of paper out and, to my amazement, there was the signature of Ulysses S. Grant: Union General and 18th President of the United States of America. Like an excited school-child, I decided to touch his signature - just to say that I had!
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After touching Ulysses S. Grant’s signature (!), I went to the National Portrait Gallery. The gallery’s Hall of Presidents contains portraits of all former US Presidents - including that of the 18th (Grant) is above. Grant was a Captain in the US Army in the 1850s. However, he was rather fond of the bottle, allegedly as a result of being both bored with the army and being upset about being apart from his wife. He then resigned (or was thrown out for being drunk) from the army in 1854. When war broke out in 1861, Grant rushed back into the army, but it took time for him to regain his old rank. But, due to his great knack for winning battles (and a distinct lack of West Point educated officers), he eventually became the head of the entire US Army in 1864. As a result of his wartime status, he was later able to run successfully for the Presidency, and served two terms from 1869 to 1877.
My walk to the Library of Congress was much more exciting than that to the National Archives. On leaving Union Station (yet another neo-classical building in DC), I walked directly towards the gleaming marble dome of the Capitol Building. Then, traversing between the imposing Capitol and the solemn, stately Supreme Court, I found my way to the Library of Congress: the biggest library in the world*.
* The Library of Congress itself claims to be the biggest (with over 168 million catalogued items). Yet, the British Library is estimated to have somewhere between 150-200 million items. Wikipedia places the British Library top, but this position is subject to it having more items than the Library of Congress’ 168 million. What is not up for debate, however, is that the Library of Congress does indeed have the largest shelf space of all world libraries. In short, the world’s biggest library is a case of ‘mine is bigger than yours’ that is harder to prove than most...
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Above is my photograph of the Library of Congress’ Main Reading Room. This is the library’s showpiece and had a grand total of about three people working in it. Clearly, most people carrying out research do not work in this room. In fact, I was placed in a separate building in a room whose carpet would not look amiss in a local Elementary School.
The room is nearly forty metres from the floor to the top of the dome. The sixteen bronze figures (six of which can be seen in the photo above) remided me of the stone figures on the front of Birmingham’s Great Hall. In fact, the figures of Shakespeare, Newton, Beethoven and Plato can be found at both sites! The entrance to Birmingham’s Great Hall is basically the same as the Main Reading Room at the Library of Congress.
The Library of Congress was founded in 1800 but was burnt down during the British ransacking (whoops) of Washington DC in 1814 during the War of 1812 (yes, it is a bit confusing that the War of 1812 actually spanned 1812-1815). The library’s books were lost. Thomas Jefferson, who had amassed a great collection of books (some nine to ten thousand, the original library only held three thousand), sold his volumes to re-establish the library. Ironically, two-thirds of his books were later burnt in another fire in 1851... Nonetheless, in recognition of the receipt of the books, the main building of the library (built from 1890-1897) was renamed in Jefferson’s honour in 1980.
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The best part about working in the Library of Congress was lunchtime baseball... Lunchtime baseball does not exist (unfortunately). What do exist, however, are many exhibits, rooms and artefacts to see; my lunch breaks consisted of exploring these.
America does not stop giving at the weekend! America has let to catch on fully to the Parkrun scene. But, it currently has twenty-nine events with an average turnout of around forty-five runners. For the past two weeks, I have popped down to my local run at Fletcher’s Cove (a short bike ride down the Capital Crescent Trail), which runs on an out-and-back route along the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. The event is incredibly friendly and has much more of a community feel to it than the over nine hundred strong event at Cannon Hill in Birmingham.
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And they’re off! Being a smaller run than I am used to in Birmingham, it is exciting to be in with a chance of a win! In fact, I have finished second two weeks running to another British runner - putting the locals to shame!
The weekend just gone was an extended weekend. Monday was a Federal Holiday (Bank Holiday in British English!). The occassion: President’s Day. President’s Day was originally just called ‘Washington’s Birthday’ which is actually the 22nd of February. However, rather conveniently, Abraham Lincoln’s Birthday is the 12th of February. ‘President’s Day’, held on the third Monday of February each year, handily falls between the 15th and 21st of February - slap bang between the two most well-known historical Presidents!
This year was the 287th Birthday of George Washington and Lincoln’s big 210. Alexandria, a town just across the Potomac River into Virginia, is famous for its lavish President’s Day Parade.
A President’s Day Parade? That sounds very American! And it was. When the warm-up acts in the town square included a local high school’s band and cheer team - and the US Marine Corps Band played the Star Spangled Banner - I felt as though I had already experienced the most American environment I had ever felt. That was until the parade began in earnest and knocked that experience out of the park!
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The real George and Martha Washington! Looking good for 287...
The parade was announced by the town crier and was followed by cops on motorcycles (yes, cops on motorcycles. Police does not cut it. You can imagine it. The leathers. The sunglasses. The moustaches... ). There were fire trucks, more bands, Revolutionary War reenactors, Korean War veterans, jeeps, classic cars, marching cadet corps, Scouts, Girl Scouts dressed up as Girl Scout Cookies (I thought these cookies were just a thing in the films, but turns out they are an actual brand sold en masse by the Girl Scouts and their parents!), and even a stunt display team wearing fezzes in mini orange cars from an organisation that raises money for children’s hospitals (you had to see it to believe it). In other words, it was an America overload - and I never wanted it to end!
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I was so hyped in Alexandria that I bought my very own star spangled banner for one dollar (bargain) to wave gleefully at the passing parade. I was also apprehensive when the Revolutionary War soldiers demonstrated the firing of their muskets. I did not want them to think I was a British Red Coat spy, so utilised my flag as a cover...
The local sights in DC have not got old. They are still exciting and impressive, despite passing them every day you can always see them from a new angle or at a new time of day.
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Seeing the Capitol from new vantages is fun. Here, the dome peeks from above the trees - ‘helloooo’.
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President Trump announced his declaration of an emergency at the Mexican Border outside the White House the morning I took this photo. In the evening, all looks quiet and serene as the President’s home is impressively illuminated for the night.
On Wednesday this week, it snowed pretty heavily. My famous last words on Tuesday were, “don’t believe the hype. It won’t snow!” Unfortunately, due to the snow and the waterlogged ground that followed, and forecasts for rain on the day, the Civil War Winter Drill with the 3rd US at Fort Ward was cancelled. It would have been a great experience and I thank Jeff Joyce and the rest of the 3rd US for inviting me along and being so willing to accomodate me. Perhaps if I visit the US some time again, I shall be able to respond to the call!
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Dashing through the snow! Here I am, on the Arizona Avenue Bridge over the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. It was originally built for the trains of the Balitmore and Ohio Railroad in 1910. It is an impressive structure and it is not hard to imagine the iron hulks that used to steam across it.
My working week this week and next week has been and will be at the National Library of Medicine within the complex of the National Institutes of Health (NIH). The NIH is Montgomery County, Maryland’s biggest employer: employing over twenty thousand workers. The campus is enormous and has its own bus service and police and fire departments. It is also the home of Medical Students’ favourite websites: PubMed and Medline! It is a jaw-droppingly enormous place and it is rather surreal to be visiting the organisation whose website I visited almost daily while on the Medicine programme at Birmingham.
And with that, my second week in America is over. America is the gift that keeps on giving and Americans certainly do not do anything by half measures: whether it is their parades, government medical complexes, or their world famous portion sizes. With three weeks left, and a trip to New York City next weekend, I am eager to discover what the country has for me next. Considering my experiences have been confined to Bethesda in Maryland, the District of Columbia and a small foray into Virginia, I cannot begin to imagine what I will find when I venture beyond in the coming weeks. 
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spotlightsaga · 8 years
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Kevin Cage of @spotlightsaga reviews... Baskets (S02E06) Marthager Airdate: February 23, 2017 @fxnetworks Ratings: 0.460 Million :: 0.22 18-49 Demo Share Score: 9/10 **********SPOILERS BELOW********** "Give me a minute, Sheila, I gotta go talk to another nut." I read a fellow reviewer talking about how 'Baskets' S1 was more emotional... I fervently disagree. It might have been funnier, maybe, but I don't even think I can give it that because S2 has just been out-fn'-standing. I've watched 'Marthager' twice now, the first time I watched alone & the second I watched while eating dinner with my partner, who subsequently literally burst into a laughing fit while eating and I ended up with chili all over me (which I think is a great euphemism for the series itself). I've done some serious cathartic emotional work through writing these reviews, S2 has been exceptionally testing. I might be laughing while watching Martha's deadpan delivery and these obscure, absurd characters live in a strangely familiar world doing familiar things in unfamiliar ways, but going back and deconstructing these episodes has helped me work through emotionally challenging & pivotal moments in my life. Saying that out loud sounds like it would be slightly unpleasant, but I love a good challenge... As I reviewed 'Fight' and drew parallels to Chip & Dale & the different points in my life I literally had tears rolling down my face, it was an intense episode and everything up to that moment had been building since the boys father's death. 'Marthager' is very different, but still very emotionally raw in its own way. Tonally, Baskets has been playing with alternate psychological and spiritual areas of growth. Chip has finally reached a point in his life where he's realized, 'this is it, I have to go for it'. For me, that moment has come in several forms over the course of my life and I've tried on many, many hats. Not until my late 20's, early 30's was I at the place in my life where I truly hit that moment, myself. I had a lot of dreams and aspirations, but I was holding myself back because I was so fucking angry that I was pushed into a narrow scope... I felt like my parents issues and insecurities stunted my spiritual growth and my professional growth as well, that they had taken out their issues with one another on me. For that and for other reasons, I was extremely self-destructive. Luckily I was always very charismatic and, unlike Chip, had people to hold it down for me in some way while I took 2 steps forward and then spiraled 38 steps back. Not until one of those people hit a massive roadblock did I decide that no matter what, I had to make a serious fucking go. I'm not talking about pipe dreams, I'm not talking about obtainable dreams... I'm talking about really starting to focus my passion in proving myself to everyone who had ever made a sacrifice for me in their lives, to show them and show myself that I was worth all the bullshit. Like I said last week, Chip may never be considered fully 'emotionally grown', but none of us as human beings can ever reach that pinnacle and it would be unfair to not acknowledge Chip's incredible growth as a human being himself. Starting where 'Fight' left off, Christine kicks out Chip & Dale and begins to renovate her house. They did some serious fucking damage, so it wasn't going to be a couple day thing. Christine heads off to stay with her mother, Esther, played by Ivy Jones. It's really good to see Christine get these important moments of closure and opportunities in her life. The stay with her mother may be covered in a tiny dog's urine but they share a touching moment when Esther gets a phone call from a friend who won some money at a casino and let's slip that Esther had already gossiped to her about Christine's 'carpet selling suitor' she met in 'Ronald Regan Library'. Christine is annoyed and embarrassed at first, a natural Christine Baskets type reaction to pretty much anything involving anything revealing or personal, but Esther shuts it down by having a moment that every mother and child should have in their adult life. Ironically I had mine with a third person who was sitting in the back of a car in a mall parking lot in Ft Lauderdale while my mother broke down why things played out the way they did, her regrets, and her grounded hopes and dreams she had for me in life. Christine had hers with a woman on speakerphone. Maybe it's easier for moms to get honest with a small audience. Who knows. Moms are secretly extremely complicated. Esther is worried that it has been 25 years since Christine's husband died and she hadn't even attempted to move on. If she had someone interested she needs to act. She proceeded to tell her about her regrets, waiting around for a man who she knew deep down was never going to change, he was a drunk and she constantly made excuses for him. She had put Christine and her siblings, as well as herself, in danger... She had stunted them and she wished she could change that. It might be too late for her, but it wasn't too late for Christine. She wasn't going to let Christine sit back and make excuses for not moving on, her children were grown men, and although they had a long way to go, they were going to be fine. It was time for Christine to do something for herself. Christine makes one last excuse... 'But he's all the way in Denver'... Her mother had an easy and absolutely perfect response, 'You mean to tell me you of all people don't have free miles?' Of course Christine Baskets had free miles saved up, this is a woman who shops at Costco religiously. Looks like Christine is going to Denver, baby. As Christine is having a long overdue moment with her mother and heading off to Mike High City, Chip is putting his life into motion. After getting kicked out and getting immediately stood up by his brother, Dale, to 'go to Hooters and get some soup', Chip heads back to the only place he knows. The place where he got his first shot of inspiration, the now defunct rodeo. After sleeping on it, it was off to the only other person in the world who gave a damn about him, Martha's house, where he elected her to be his clown manager. Chip was so ready to fucking go that he was willing to see if the clowns that were jumping out of woods and scaring children at night was a paid gig. Even tho absolutely none of this was Martha's idea, she took her duties as Chip's manger seriously... Unfortunately she sucked at it. It looked like the only jobs she could get him were ones she payed for his services herself, even hiring him to show up at a Costco function where he runs into the 'Friendly Fun Events' manager, Ginny (Karen Maruyama, who is absolutely perfect for this show). Obviously Martha had hired Chip herself and payed out of pocket because this was definitely Ginny's territory. She ends up offering him a job and firing Martha herself. Martha isn't going to go out like that, she tries to get him a job at her nephews birthday but Chip is already booked solid at a parade where she later runs into him by accident. When he hadn't answered her phone calls and ended up being a no-show she dressed up like a clown and tried to fill the role... To horrible results. This dynamic is where things get interesting with Martha & Chip, we've always known there was some sort of unspoken chemistry between the two, but Martha is a wallflower and Chip always aims way too high. Martha doesn't want to be Chips manager, she wants to be his friend (maybe more), and failing as his manager made her feel like a failure as a friend... And she had already fucked up bad by screwing his grating, competitive twin brother. I love that their showdown takes place at the parade she just happens upon. She gets out of the car, still in full on clown makeup and scares a young girl (who she refers to as 'lady') by telling her she isn't a clown, who immediately starts crying. That's when my partner spit the chili on me, so I figured I better work that in somehow. Now we've come full circle, this is the 'Almond Parade' gig and the quote I started the review with is Chip telling a woman named Sheila dressed up like an almond to hold on while he talks to Martha, 'who looks like a small child with lipstick issues'. Holy shit those zingers are so funny they make you forget that two people are sharing a very real & public, vulnerable moment. Martha is upset, she says she knows she wasn't the greatest manager but that she tried her best... She's going out on a limb here anyway, because really he steamrolled her into the manager position in the first place. This forces Chip to define their relationship, 'Look Martha, you're not a manager. You're more of a... Friend.' In the most perky tone that Martha is able to achieve in all her monotone glory she responds, 'Really?!' Chip tried to define it further but was constantly interrupted by an old car behind him in the parade with a 'bahooga' horn. He doesn't even finish, Martha is beaming, you know, in a very Martha way, 'Thanks Chip. That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.' How do you respond to that? Chip gives it a go, 'Really? That's depressing'. Chip, ever the optimist.
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nh935 · 5 years
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The Adventures of Solaire Part V: The Clockwork Temple II
The Incredible Yet Accurate Adventures of the Dread Pirate Captain Solaire Ravenheart Otherwise known as The Adventures of Solaire
Part V: The Clockwork Temple ii
Before we begin this next section of Solaire’s journey through the Clockwork Temple, I have a confession to make: as much as I’d like to make sure that the “Yet Accurate” part of this series’ title remains truthful, there are certain details I am simply unable to obtain, no matter how much research I do. And as secret societies don’t tend to leave behind blueprints of their sacred sanctums behind, the Clockwork Temple is one of those details. I have spent countless hours in countless libraries, visited the Isle of Delphine myself to try to puzzle together measurements from the ruins, and have even chased down members of the Order of Archangels themselves to ascertain the design of this building. All attempts have ended in vain. So as much as I’d like to say they are 500 feet below the surface in antechamber B between the main engine train and automaton storage, I simply can not do that with any amount of confidence.
I sincerely regret this fact and beg for your understanding. If you can find it within your heart to forgive me, we may proceed.
***
Solaire blearily opened his eyes and moaned, feeling the aches and pains all over his body. He rose with caution, and, as he did so, he heard the sound of splashing and the unmistakable trickling of water.
“What, in the name of all the gods and demons, just happened?” he growled.
As his eyes adjusted to the blackness of his surroundings, he saw the large form of Austin attempt to stand, slip, and land into an inch of water with a resounding “Ka-Blash!”
“This is your fault, Solaire,” Austin grumbled.
“Me? What did I do? Besides stop you from walking into another death trap, of course.” Solaire squinted and tried to find something in the darkness besides the forms of his four companions, but he couldn’t. The only thing that existed outside the blackness was the whirring and clicking of unseen machinery.
Austin stood, this time slower and more carefully. “If it wasn’t for you, we’d be in the next chamber right now, figuring out how to move on.”
“Or we’d be dead,” Solaire shot back.
Tomo sat up. “It is pointless to speculate on what would have happened if things had gone differently. Besides…” he ran his fingers through the liquid, which had apparently been draining, as it seemed much shallower now, “...it does not answer why the floor turned into water and caused us to fall.”
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of slurping. Everyone turned to see Willaby on all fours, scooping the water up with his hands and lapping at it like a dog. Feeling the weight of stares upon him, he glanced backwards and gave a sheepish grin. “There is a slight possibility it might have been me.”
Solaire groaned. “Wonderful. So our sorcerer is a liability now.”
Willaby hung his head.
Austin picked something off of the floor, now drained dry, and cursed. “My torch is useless now. Any one else got a light?”
There was a chorus of patting pockets and naes from around the room before Tomo took out a small tinderbox and lit it. The orange light only extended for a few feet in any direction, not far enough to illuminate any details of the room. “I do not believe that this will be sufficient to guide ourselves with,” he said.
Solaire shook his head. “Tomo, you are a master of the obvious.”
Skyler sighed and looked around the darkness surrounding them. “Well, what do we do now?”
“Why don’t we get the sorcerer to make a light?” Austin suggested.
Willaby glanced around for a bit before picking up the small arcane rod Weiss had given him. He pointed it in the air, waved it around for a bit, then muttered “light”.
A small butterfly popped into existence and fluttered towards the light of Tomo’s tinderbox, promptly incinerating itself in the following of its insect instincts.
Willaby moaned and flopped back onto the ground. “It’s no use. I’m a sorcerer who can’t cast magic, a baker without a bakery, and a useless adventurer to boot. You might as well leave me behind to die.”
“Hey,” Skyler sat down next to him and gave him an affirming clasp on the shoulder, “no one’s thinking that.”
“Speak for yourself,” Solaire muttered.
Skyler glared at him. “You’re one to talk, after how you threatened him.”
Solaire shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”
A minute of silence descended upon the group.
Skyler gazed back up to Solaire. “How did you know it would work?”
“I didn’t,” Solaire admitted. “I just hoped that a simpler threat would focus him.”
“Simpler threat?” Tomo asked.
“Yeah. He seemed pretty useless when he was trying to figure out how to stop that crystal. I hoped that some panic would encourage him to do something helpful.”
Skyler snapped his fingers. “Of course! Solaire, you’re a genius!”
“Obviously,” Solaire said, then stopped. “Wait, why?”
Skyler turned to Willaby. “Emotion. It’s how you cast spells, Willaby.”
Willaby focused at Skyler, frown plastered onto his lips. “No it’s not. You cast spells with magic words and precise hand motions and lots and lots of practice.”
“Maybe that’s how a wizard does it, but you’re not a wizard! You’re a sorcerer! Magic literally flows through your veins. It’s part of you. Intertwined, even. The best way to call it forth is to reach inside yourself to get it.”
“This sounds a little too touchy-feely, and not...” Austin paused, face scrunched up in labored thought “...scientific.”
“No, it makes sense,” Tomo interjected. “It would explain why the only time he has cast substantial spells is when he is under duress.”
“I don’t get it,” Willaby said. “If that’s the case, how do I cast the spells I want to cast?”
“Well we need to trigger an emotional response, one related to what you want to do.”
Solaire withdrew the Ivory River and pointed it at Willaby’s heart.
Willaby shook his head. “That’s not going to work. I already know you’re not going to pull the trigger.”
Solaire raised an eyebrow. “You seem awfully certain about that.”
“Knock it off Solaire,” Skyler said. “He’s had enough of that today. Besides, we already know that’s not going to get him to produce light.”
Solaire aimed the pistol at Willaby for a bit longer, then grumbled something and put it away.
Another minute of silence passed.
“You said that you were a baker?” Tomo questioned.
“Yeah. Had my own place in Dinas,” Willaby mumbled.
Skyler looked over to Tomo, an expression of realization on his face. “What was that like, Willaby?”
He shrugged. “It was… nice. I know some of my employees didn’t like it, waking up before dawn to slave over ovens. But I always enjoyed it. There was just something… satisfying, about taking the ingredients and mixing them together, bending them to your will.” His hands began to pantomime the motions of pouring, mixing, and kneading. “When you really put in your best work to be enjoyed, and watch people admire all the products on display, it was… it was…”
“Willaby…” Skyler whispered, “look down.”
Willaby did. In his hands was a small ball of white, shining light out and illuminating the brass mechanisms of gears, cogs, chains, and other precise metal constructs that had been invisible only moments before.
“Skyler,” he gasped. “I did it! I cast a spell! On purpose!”
Skyler laughed as Willaby bounced up and down like a child counting presents on Martyrsday morning. Even Tomo and Austin grinned at the display.
“I knew you could do it!” Skyler shouted.
“A spell!” Willaby exclaimed. “On purpose! Without destroying things!”
Solaire, meanwhile, was turned away from the group, staring at something behind them. “Um, people…”
“You have searched deep inside yourself and conquered your fear,” Tomo commended. “You accomplished something great today.”
“Listen,” Solaire insisted, “could you look at this?”
“I… I did, didn’t I?” Willaby marveled. “Wow.”
Austin laughed. “Don’t get too full of yourself now.”
“I need someone to turn around RIGHT NOW,” Solaire shouted.
Skyler spun around, annoyed. “For heaven’s sake, Solaire, not everything has to be about… you…” he trailed off as his gaze went upwards, seeing what Solaire was staring at.
There, standing almost seven feet tall and the width of a small carriage, was a collection of large grey rocks and boulders, stacked and balanced in defiance of gravity to take on the frame of a human. The large stone man scanned back and forth at the small people in front of it, like a boy watching ants in a line and debating whether or not he should flood the area with a cup of water and watch the little insects scurry around.
The others, sensing the fear in the tone of Skyler’s last words, rotated to check the source of the disturbance and exhaled a round of gasps.
“It’s a stone golem,” Tomo breathed. “A being brought to life with magic, no doubt to guard this temple.”
Austin raised an eyebrow. “It hasn’t done anything. Maybe its friendly.”
The stone golem slowly raised an arm into the air, as if it was trying to receive permission to ask a question.
“It’s trying to communicate!” Willaby declared.
After taking another look around at the group of humans, it brought its fist down towards Willaby, intent on smashing the sorcerer into paste.
“Not friendly!” Solaire yelled. He dove into Willaby, colliding with the man and toppling him out of the way a split second before the giant fist of rock cracked into the metal floor, Willaby’s created light following nearby, as if attached to the man. The golem slowly spun its head to face the pair, as if the smooth boulder actually contained eyes to see with. It brought back its second arm and swung in a powerful punch, but was interrupted by the charging form of Austin, whose own blow hit hard enough to move the limb off target, miss Solaire and Willaby, and smash into a collection of gears, shattering the metal into tiny pieces as if they were nothing but glass.
Tomo withdrew his katana and poised it horizontal in the air, legs apart in a stance of defense. “Prepare for battle!” he cried.
“Way ahead of you,” Solaire muttered. He withdrew one of his flintlocks as Skyler took out his own pepperbox, both aiming at the monstrosity and squeezing the trigger at the same time.
*click* *clack*
“Damn it!” Skyler cursed. “The powder’s wet!” He put the pistol back into his pocket and withdrew his hook swords.
Solaire scrambled to his feet and drew his cutlass just in time to see the golem take another swing, this time aimed at Tomo. Tomo waited, allowing the blow to strike his blade, before gracefully stepping under the limb, sword raised, dragging it along the underside to shave off tiny shards of rock. Skyler took advantage of the outstretched arm and hooked his sword into the crevice between two rocks, hanging on while the limb retracted backwards in order to chip at where the ribs would be.
The golem’s space-acting-as-a-face turned to the small hanging man. Solaire gritted his teeth and rushed in towards the other appendage, leaping onto the left member and dug his cutlass into a nook in the rock, using the weapon as a makeshift crowbar. The golem shifted in a way that suggested surprise and brought the other arm back like a man about to slap a mosquito on his skin. Austin roared and vaulted towards the right limb, colliding into it with enough force to slightly wobble the golem and holding on for dear life. It raised its right arm and lazily shook it as the two clung to it before slamming the appendage into another collection of gears, shattering more machinery and flinging Skyler and Austin like ragdolls.
“Ow” Austin complained.
Solaire hopped backwards to where his allies were now grouped. “I don’t think we’re doing a thing to this guy.”
Tomo gave a grim nod. “Our only hope against such a foe would be guerilla tactics, but we have no ranged options. We can not beat him in a melee.”
“What about Willaby?” Skyler asked hopefully.
The four turned to the tweed-suited man, who was frantically waving his rod back and forth as it emitted red sparks. “Cakes!” he shrieked. “Pastries! Father yelling at me! Kissing Lilly! Having to give back that stolen book! Burnt bagels!”
Skyler gave an embarrassed shrug. “It was a nice thought.”
The golem threw its shoulders back and took a menacing step forward.
“Run!” Solaire yelled. He bolted in the other direction, down a hallway surrounded by turning cogs. The others followed soon behind, Skyler grabbing Willaby’s shoulder to snap the man out of his focus and drag him along.
Behind them, the thudding sound of the golem’s charging footsteps roared, shaking the ground and drowning out the soft ticking coming from all around them. No one dared to look back.
The path slightly curved to the left and a large cog appeared. The center hole that wrapped around the pathway was only three feet tall, not large enough to run through.
"Obstacle!” Solaire shouted. He fell backwards and landed on his side, his momentum carrying him through in a slide. Tomo copied the motion while Skyler took both hook swords and grabbed onto a set of pipes on either side and hoisted himself, carrying him up and over the gear.
Willaby stopped in front of it. “Um, I might ne-AAHHH!” Austin grabbed him mid-sentence and wrapped his arms around the sorcerer, then leapt with enough force to clear the obstruction.
The golem continued his pace, not stopping or slowing down for the object in front of him, and broke through the cog like a racer tearing through the paper finish line.
Austin held out the sorcerer with one arm, letting the fat man begin the motion of running before plopping him down on the pathway to continue the sprint. Up ahead, his bobbing light illuminated a fork in the pathway, the road splitting into a left path and a right path.
“Which way?” he wheezed.
“Right!” Austin yelled.
Tomo scanned the hallway. “I think the left will bring us to safety.”
“Really?” Skyler asked.
He squinted. “Maybe.”
Solaire rolled his eyes. “We don’t have time for this.” Grabbing Skyler’s collar, he dragged him with him as he barreled down the left hallway.
“Don’t split up!” Tomo yelled as the other three followed in behind. The golem, noticing the sudden change in his quarry, tried to turn and follow, but the sheer momentum of such a massive beast caused him to slide and drift down the right hallway, frantically clawing at the machinery and breaking off more pieces as he attempted to slow down.
The hallway twisted back and forth until it deposited the group into a large chamber, encased in all sides with more precision clockwork. A dead end.
“Great!” Austin complained. “Now what?”
Solaire took a moment to survey the area before climbing onto a gear twice as tall as himself, letting one of the massive teeth carry him upwards and leaping onto a long chain before the teeth interlocked with another cog.
“You don’t know where that goes!” Skyler protested.
“You want to stand around and wait for the second option?” Solaire called down.
As if to accentuate the point, the large, thudding footsteps of the golem began to sound behind them once again.
Skyler looked back in the direction of the noise, now growing louder, and dug his hook sword into a similar chain, holding on as it dragged him up. Tomo began to climb up onto cogs.
Austin turned to Willaby. “Can you climb?”
He blushed. “Umm, er, well…”
A large crash sounded from the hallway behind. “Not the time to save face,” Austin reminded him.
“No.”
“Right. Hold on for dear life.”  Austin grabbed the man and deposited him on his back, like a parent giving a small child a piggy-back ride, before grabbing machinery with his massive hands and using them to hoist himself up. As the pair rose, so did the light, illuminating more and more interlocking clockwork for the group to ascend, seemingly going on forever.
Once they had scaled close to fifty feet of the “wall”, the golem came into view, staring up at them with head cocked like a curious cat noticing a bird nest. He reached his arm though a large gap and attempted to hoist himself up, but it did nothing but drag the limb downwards, forming a deep gash in the machinery.
The sides rumbled and shook with the action. Solaire’s muscles trembled as he held onto the chain. He had always been a weaker creature, componstasting for his lack of strength with his natural speed, and it was taking all his willpower not to drop five stories down into certain death. But even that wasn’t enough. As the golem landed on the ground, causing the room to rattle, Solaire lost his gip and began to plummet.
Skyler saw the noble dropping and reached the other hook sword out, piercing the weapon through his long white coat tied around his shoulders and holding it at the bend of the blade, with Solaire grabbed onto it like a man overboard holding onto floating debris.
Skyler looked down expectantly.
“I’m going to have to patch that later,” Solaire said.
Skyler gave the man a wide-eyed look of disbelief.
There was a “riiiiiiiiiip” as the coat dropped a tiny but noticeable few bits of length downwards. Skyler grimaced, reeled his arm back, and swung, flying Solaire through the air and onto a small platform jutting out of the interconnected clockwork. Solaire landed at chest-height with the outcropping, grabbing on and scrambling onto its top. As he did, the precariously balanced tophat fell downwards, right onto the upturned face of Willaby, who rocked backwards with surprise before squeezing on tighter to Austin to avoid falling himself.
“Bring that up will you? It cost quite a bit.” Solaire yelled down.
Austin reached up, grabbed the hat, and shoved it into one of his massive pockets.
Solaire frowned. “You bent it.”
“You can get bent!” Skyler shouted, now above Solaire as he continued to hold onto the chain via sword.
“Stop arguing, ” Tomo commanded, carefully balanced on a large metal piston, “and look down! We are safe. The golem can not climb.”
The large stone creature was staring at his arm. He turned to the gash, the back to his arm, then to Solaire, then back to his arm.
“Ha!” Willaby glared down at it with a grin. “Can’t get us now, you stupid rock!”
The golem glanced back up to the group and, without looking, drove his fist into the interlocked pieces.
The room shook once more, this time, more violently, as everyone was forced to hold onto whatever was nearby with every ounce of strength they could muster.
“How… much… further?” Austin groaned.
Tomo looked up and pointed. “There! Light!”
The golem reeled back and drove another massive blow into the side of the chamber, prompting another round of desperate clinging.
Skyler looked up to the small pinprick of white Tomo had showed them. “There’s no way we can make it all the way up there!”
Solaire backpedaled a step, and as he did, he felt a blast of heat upon his neck. Turning around, he saw a large hole, drilled into an exposed furnace filled with lava only ten or so feet deep into the hole. He took out the Ivory River, looked at it, then aimed it upwards at the dot of light. His mind began to turn, combining images of gunpowder, Weiss’ steam engines, and his recent launch through the air.
“Everyone, to me! I’ve got a plan.”
Skyler groaned as he swung his feet up onto the chain and pushed himself off, landing onto the platform below. Tomo cleared the space in two long, graceful jumps while Austin gave a guttural roar and dug his hands in deeper, clambering up the wall at a quickened pace until he and Willaby were there as well.
Skyler pointed at Austin. “Get me the biggest piece of metal you can. One large enough for us all to stand on.”
Austin, bent over and gasping, furrowed his brow. “Wh…”
There was another shudder. Willaby staggered backwards, almost toppling off the edge before Skyler grabbed him and pulled him to safety.
Solaire glowered at Austin. “Do it! NOW!”
Austin inspected the area around them, noticed a large sheet bolted down onto a nearby wall, grabbed on and pulled. The metal gave a long straining groan as he tugged at it. “I… can’t…”
Tomo pulled his katana back with a flourish and dug it into the seam between the two metal pieces, leaning into his improvised lever and forcing it further back.
Solaire twirled to Willaby. “That huge amount of water you summoned.”
Willaby raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“I need another one. Right over this lava pit.”
Willaby eyes went wide. “That was an accident! I can’t just…”
Skyler grabbed the man by the shoulders and forced him to face him. “You did it once, you can do it again. Why’d you do it?”
“Um… I was thirsty.”
“Yeah? And I bet you’re thirsty now. Forced to run for who knows how long. In tweed, no less. Right next to that pit of burning… hot… lava.”
Willaby stared at him and smacked his lips.
There was a sudden loud “POP POP POP POP” as Austin and Tomo ripped the large sheet away, causing the bolts to fly off like bullets. Austin held the piece awkwardly in front of his face. “What now?”
“Hold it over that pit,” Solaire said. “Wait until Willaby makes that water, then slam it over the hole as fast as you can.” He turned to the group at large. “When Austin puts that metal piece down, we need to climb on as fast as possible.
Tomo frowned. “I believe I understand the plan, and I do not like it.”
The machinery shook once again. Solaire stared at him.
Tomo held up his hand. “Your point is made. You do not have to comment on it.”
“Well, when you put it like that…” Willaby took off his bowler hat and wiped beads of sweat off his forehead. As he did, a large mass of water began to swirl into existence over the pit, hanging in the air with loud sloshes.
“Get ready!” Solaire shouted.
The water dropped into the hole. Austin slammed the sheet down with a “CLANG!”, covering the space as everyone quickly scurried on top of it, standing and waiting.
“What now?” Skyler asked.
“The water will boil, turn into steam, and shoot up with enough force to carry us upwards like a bullet. It should take us close enough to the surface to pull ourselves into that opening.”
“It SHOULD?” Skyler yelled.
Willaby turned pale. “Like a what?”
There was a loud explosion, different than the sound of the golem striking the walls. This was like a cannon fired in a far-off canyon.
There were a few tense moments of silence.
The plate shot upwards with a “WOOSH!” as hot clouds of steam poured around the sides, fast enough to force everyone to crouch down as the sheer acceleration of it pressed upon it. The speck of light grew larger and larger and larger until it became a fist-sized window, illuminating an expansive area decorated with mammoth thin gears encircling the center at different angles. As everyone slowed down and hung in the air for a few moments, frantic hands were outstretched as everyone grabbed onto a gear (and in Austin’s case, to Willaby). Once they did, they carefully, wobbly, stood upon the thin bands of metal.
No one said anything for some time.
Skyler looked at Solaire. “I can’t believe that worked.”
Solaire outstretched his arms. “See? You should just do what I say the first time around.”
Skyler gave him an incredulous look. “I don’t know about that. Your record is still…”
“Look!” Willaby interrupted, pointing to the center of the room.
Everyone turned to the source of the outburst. There, displayed on a large pedestal, was a gleaming metal object, cast in gold and decorated with sapphires.
A very special metal glove: the gauntlet.
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mtgsharzad · 6 years
Text
GRN Prerelease Notes
WeIt’s been a while since I’ve gone to a prerelease. I think since...BFZ? But with the free Arena sealed voucher and the return to return to Ravnica, Magic’s greatest setting, I schlepped my way to the game store (after swallowing two edibles).  It’s a different store than the one I used to prerelease at. A narrow room is filled with one line of tables and barely enough space on either side of them to walk past. The counter stretches...6 metres? It’s a game store, like many and unlike many others. I showed up 3 minutes late and all the non-Izzet prerelease packs have been taken. Not much of a choice, izzet? God, kill me. I get a promo Firemind’s Insight and a really conflicted Sealed pool. I have three Selesnya rares, a Steam Vents, an Assassin’s Trophy (which I’m going to trade away) and the new 1R growing elemental guy.  I have, like, no playable creatures, and end up reaching for two copies of Muse Drake just to be able to play more than 8 battle dumplings. I built into a grixis fliers/midrange deck, mostly anchored around my copious removal and my UUBB guy.  I always forget how long we’re allowed for deckbuilding at these events. I’m usually a quick deckbuilder, but the drugs kick in and I find myself looking at the same 25 possible includes for a straight 15 minutes. I cut my second copy of the 1UB enchantment and grab basics, and proceed to have a really pleasant conversation with the guy diagonal from me about Legacy Pox. What a beautiful deck! He confessed to running the 1-of granddaddy Pox, as well as 4 Sinkhole, 4 Wasteland, 4 Smallpox, etc. Gotta love a man who plays the 1-of. He said he plays Percy as a finisher though, instead of the Nether Shadow recursion/beats strat - “make a percy, swing three times, you’re dead”, he explains. Sounds interesting! Round one. I’m up against a friendly Asian guy in his late 20s. He’s on BUG, and we have a good back-and-forth, but I take the series 2-1. Nothing really memorable or exceptional here; just some good old fashioned Sealed gameplay. I take game 3 with a reasonably-thrilling combo kill out of nohwere with Wee Dragonauts buffs and 6 points of burn going dome. Really great games, I say, and he agrees. I report the match win to the store owner, who I think gives me a little wink of approval. Who is this strange newcomer, who can win her first game? I imagine he’s saying. She must be a powerful sorceress. Round two. I deckbuilt across from this guy, so I know that he’s on Naya and has a foil Trostani (jealous). He had a bye R1, so I’m nervous, but I pretend I didn’t know this when he explains it to me. “So, you feeling good, then?” I ask, and he replies with something that’s music to my ears: He’s a total scrub! He has no idea how to play Magic, and is “usually the worst guy in the room”. I’m about 5% wary of some kind of hustle, but I don’t think I’m being hustled; this guy is earnest about how bad he is at Magic, so let’s just have some fun games! In game 1, I keep a risky hand with UR mana and two B spells. I never find a Swamp, and Sammy Scrub over here just develops a board and beats me down.  The whole time, he’s table talking nervously about how this is the best it ever goes for him, and this is probably the best he’ll do all day. A turn before I’d die, I say gg and flop the hand, which now has 4 B spells and still no B mana.  ”That explains a lot”, he says. In game 2, I take a dicy mull to 4 looking for lands. I’m sitting on Swamp, new Rupture Spire, Dinrova Horror, Goblin Cratermaker, which is at least an all-stars version of my shitty, shitty deck. I manage to do some nice stack trickery with Cratermaker that fizzles one of his Auras. After clarifying the difference between Auras and Equipment, I take game 2 easily. 
This seems like an apt point to take a moment to take a personal stand: I hate the way he taps his mana. He keeps all his lands in a single pile, behind his library (and therefore more or less underneath his arm from my viewpoint). This game, he did this thing where he’d hold up 3 mana for like 4 turns, and I’d have to keep clarifying that he had mana up, with him even doing things like casting a Worldsoul Colossus with X=2 so he could hold up mana (I Dead Weighted it. 😭Brutal😭). Turns out he was holding onto a Plummet effect; when I slammed the Dinrova Horror, he said “oh, that has flying, right?” and tried to kill it. Damn, sorry dude, but it also has Hexproof... Anyway. The experience of playing against multiple people with really incoherent mana presentation made me resolve to be even better about my own land display. It’s something Magic Arena couldn’t possibly have reminded me about; the messiness and personal flair that goes into the way each player taps, plays, and manipulates their cards, all outside of the game itself.  Game 3 also comes down to some board stall where I blunted his early assault and stabilized with Wee Dragonauts. Once I hit 6 mana I did the 4UR split card spell to search for an instant (the jumpstart draw 2) and a sorcery (the 3bb murder surveil 2). That was my endgame value chain, and he just couldn’t beat it. I played really forgivingly and walked him through my understandings of several combats in a way that I think made him a more equitable opponent to me, and so for that reason I think we had some really captivating fun games. I really liked this guy, and I hope he did well after we fought. We go to turns, so my idea to buy pizza before R3 is tragically dashed on the rocks. I still haven’t eaten (always take pills on an empty stomach, kids), and I’m starting to feel it.
 My opponent this round is a happy looking fat kid, who the entrenched player cracking a box to my left apparently mentored in Magic’s rules. The moment we square up I realize he’s a “Real Opponent” in a way the round 2 guy simply wasn’t; he does the pro player card shuffling tic, announces every trigger, and his cards make the loud SLICK SLICK SLACK of a player who knows exactly which card he’s putting where, and who intends to waste no time doing so.
We both mull to 6. “Ooh, hope you didn’t keep a fast one, or I might need to go to 5″, I tease. He tells me he kept a fast one, I stay on 6, and true to his word, he grizzly bears me into the dust by turn 6. Brutal! I mire in self-abnegation. You IDIOT, I think. He said it was a fast one, I castigate. Oops! This is not the mindset of a champion. I reset quickly for game two. At this point we’re comfortable enough in the dance, two mature players (one a child) with cleanly-laid-out mana and creatures and full understanding of the Stack, and we’re bullshitting and talking Modern while we play. It’s a joyous experience, the best time I’ve had playing paper Magic recently. I take game 2 pretty cleanly when he’s stuck on two lands, and the land clump he hits on turn 5 is too little too late, even though he slams a locket as soon as he can play it. I misplay a little by forgetting some of his announced triggers during combat, and get a 1-for-1 on my Dinrova Horror instead of the 2-for-1 I’d planned on. Oops! I win handily, though.  In game 3 I kept a risky 6 - 5 lands and a two-drop. I draw more lands and just can’t spend gas fast enough to keep up, and he curves me into the dust with his efficient little battle dumplings. RIP, really great games. The thrill of combat and the hot copper taste of blood (I think I bit my cheek accidentally?) fill my veins.  In the pizza meta selection subgame, I walk in the door thinking Potato, but audibled to Feta and Sundried Tomatoes because I heard Boros had good chances against the field. 
I walk back down the street to the LGS. The pizza did what it needed to and has loosened the feelings of self-doubt that come with your first tournament loss of the day. I am a champion. I am a queen. I’m beautiful. I visualize myself going 3-1.  My opponent for the fourth and final round is another teen, but he’s way worse than the cute friendly pro-to-be. He’s really soft-spoken, which wouldn’t be a problem but Putative Pro is the other match on this table and he and I are still occasionally shooting the shit, much to Surly Kid’s annoyance. Sorry, dog! I would normally use your turns to plan strategy or whatever, but he takes such ponderous long turns I feel like I have no choice. He’s moaning that he’s had to mull to 5 5 times already. My heart goes out to the kid, but maybe he should learn to trust in the heart of the cards!~ He’s built a pretty solid GWr aggro deck, lots of lifegain and Mentor effects. Exactly the kind of deck I’m not built to answer! But it turns out that spot removal works okay against mentor if you can keep them from having two guys attack on any given turn. I bleed out before I can stabilize game 1, though.  Game 2 I barely remember also, but I think I had a solid early curve and managed to discard his 1 answer in-hand. Hard to complain about that!
Game 3. Game 3 is scary. We both mull to 5 and have shaky starts. He hits me with early pressure and takes me down to like 5 real early, while I’ve managed to chip him down to like 16. FIVE TURNS, comes the booming announcement. Oh shit, I think. I have to take this. A 3-1 finish is so close, I can taste it. I end up stacking Wee Dragonauts and Electrostatic Wall triggers to find exact lethal on my last of the 5 extra turns. It’s incredibly, viscerally, beautifully satisfying. I feel electric, triumphant, and exultatory. This is my apotheosis. 
I win...three packs! Oops. The kid who beat me in R3 came first (satisfying to only lose to the winner), but because of the byes, someone has a 3-0-1 record, and they get the 6 packs due to second. Still, it’s a delight to place. TRADES:  traded away my Assassin’s Trophy for a K Command, new Niv, some cube cards / foils and some pocket change. 
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pedrobsaunders-blog · 6 years
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The 10 Most Expensive Schools to Attend in Australia
It is said that if you think education is expensive, then try ignorance!
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In Australia, some of the well-off have taken this to an even higher level of seriousness, enrolling their children in the most expensive learning institutions in a bid to mould holistic and all-round individuals out of them. This theory does seem to hold as most of these schools were once home to the most successful and renowned leaders, professionals and talents across the world.
The Australian Newspaper recently reported that Melbourne is the most expensive city in Australia to privately educate your child.  The average overall cost to educate a child in a private school in Victoria is $536,683, with Sydney and Hobard coming in close behind.
With learner-friendly curriculum and extra-curricular activities, each student that goes through these institutions comes out as a brilliant mind, ready to make the world a better place. Below is a comprehensive list of the 10 most expensive schools to attend in Australia.
Geelong Grammar School
Location: Geelong VIC
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Having started in 1855, Geelong Grammar Schools prides itself as a pioneer of modern education providing an exceptional education over its many years of existence. The school is located in the magnificent Victoria state and lies on a vast 245-hectare land on the edge of the Cario Bay. There is also the Timbertop campus that exposes Grade 9 students to the remote location of the foothills of the Victorian Alps. Inspired by Kurt Hahn, the German educator, this educational adventure exposes the students at this level to intellectual, emotional and physical challenges for development of confidence, discovery of personal strengths and learning the value of co-operative endeavour.
This school's four campuses are home to approximately 1,500 boys and girls from Early Learning to Year 12, with at least 800 boarders. It also has close to 180 teaching staff and at least 340 staff to ensure smooth running of the school. For Years 7 to 10, students usually go through the Positive Education Program that helps build character, cultivate positivity and encourages them to find purpose in life and lead meaningful lives. There are also quite a number of scholarships offered to students at Geelong Grammar including academic, music, choral, sports and general excellence scholarships. International students can also be enrolled here.
As much as its fee is close to AU$35721, the amount of knowledge and skill that comes out of this school is incredible.
Day Student Fee for a Year 12 Student:  $35,721.00 per annum
Location:  Corio VIC
Famous past students include:
Rupert Murdoch (Media Proprietor)
John Fairfax (Media Proprietor)
Kerry Packer (Publishing Tycoon)
Portia de Rossi (Actress and wife of Ellen Degeneres)
Missy Higgins, (singer, songwriter)
Alexander Downer (Politician)
Malcolm Fraser (former Prime Minister of Australia)
Sam Newman (former Geelong Footballer)
Sydney Church of England Girls Grammar School
Location: Sydney NSW
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SCEGGS is located in inner-Sydney and was founded in1895, SCEGGS Darlinghurst is one of the oldest schools in Australia's history. It is a K-12 Anglican Girls' school that enrols children in both its Primary level which is Kindergarten to Year 6, and Secondary level from Year 7 to 12. Located near Sydney's city centre, SCEGGS Darlinghurst provides an excellent learning environment for students from this metropolitan area, as they are able to utilise the best educational resources within the city.
SCEGGS does have boarders but is predominately a day school.
Being an all girls' school, SCEGGS Darlinghurst aims to educate its students with the confidence, competence and articulation that is essential for the success of any young woman in this environment that values individuality and diversity. It has an excellent academic record that makes it one of the most successful independent girls' schools in Sydney and Australia at large.
As much as its school fees averages at approximately AU$37,282 per annum (figures correct as of May 2018).  There are numerous scholarships that can be applied for and won on the basis of competence and performance. There is also a trust fund that parents and other members of the SCEGGS community can join to help maintain the school's independence.
Day Student Fee for a Year 12 Student: $37,282.00 per annum
Famous Ex Students Include:
Claudia Karvan (Australian Actress)
Dr Joan Freeman (Nuclear Physicist)
Margaret Whitlam (Champion Swimmer and wife of former Prime Minister Gough Whitlam)
Blanche d'Alpuget, Bob Hawke's second wife
Pamela Stephenson, Comedian and wife of Billy Connolly
Ascham School
Location: Sydney NSW
Ascham School in Sydney was founded in 1886 and cites that it will prepare a girl both academically and personally to 'Meet the needs of the 21st Century'.  The school is non-denominational and offers both day school and boarding school for girls. The school caters for girls from Prep through to Year 12 and is the only school in Australia that uses 'The Dalton Plan' which is a unique plan that lets the student focus on their interests, and also allows the weaker students to get the extra support they need in the area they are falling down in.
The school boasts a state of the art theatre, an indoor heated pool, gymnasium, tennis courts and playing fields.  It also has three libraries.
Just to confirm a place at Ascham School will set you back a $6000 acceptance fee.
Location: Edgecliff, NSW
Size: 1200
Type: All Girls School
Day school fee for Year 12 Student $34,500.00 per annum
Boarding school fee for Year 12 Student $58,900.00 per annum
Famous students that attended Ascham School include:
Mia Freedman (Editor of Mamamia)
Poppy Montgomery (Actress)
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Cranbrook School
Location: Sydney NSW
Cranbrook in Sydney's East is one of THE most expensive schools in the whole of Australia.  Senior School Fees for an average year 12 student who is also boarding will cost $69,705 per year.  Non-boarding year 12 students will pay $37,230 per annum.
The school has a vast 100-year history and caters for boys from preschool through to year 12.
Day Student Fee for Year 12 Student:  $37,230.00 per annum.
Famous students that attended the prestigious school include:
Garry McDonald (the Actor that portrayed Norman Gunston in Mother & Son)
David Griffin – ex-Lord Mayor of Sydney
David Gyngell – CEO of Channel Nine
James Packer – Chairman of CPH Investments and Crown Limited
Kerry Packer – Former media tycoon.
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The Scots College
Location: Sydney NSW
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Boasting of the famous professionals in the world such as Gerald Lawrie, Robert McDougall, Jim Boyce, Stewart Boyce, Stuart Pinkerton, Arnold Brown and John Berryman, The Scots College is definitely one of the best boys' learning institutions around the world. Located in Sydney, this school is home to close to 1000 students mainly from Sydney, New South Wales. Committed to developing the culture of high expectation, each student that walks into this school is usually moulded into a confident, creative and accomplished young man, ready to improve the world around them. With personalised learning experiences, learning opportunities, student engagement and challenges at each stage, learner age and year level, every boy at Scots will definitely grow into an all-round individual.
At Scots, there is the cultivation of self-worth, optimism, great mindsets, dynamic thinking and self-confidence. Information technology and other modern facilities are incorporated within the learning, thus enhancing collaboration, flexibility and authenticity of learning. With various competitive sports and extra-curricular activities, Scots College ensures that no student is left behind and that no talent is wasted. Scholarships are also available based on competencies in academics, sports, music and other school activities.
This K-12 Presbyterian boys' school offers admissions for a day, boarder and international students at a fee averaging AU$33,098. Through diverse learning opportunities, it is ensured that high moral values are upheld even as the child grows into an adult.
Day Student Fee for a Year 12 Student: $33,098.00 per annum.
Location: Bellevue Hill, NSW
Size:  1100 students
Famous ex-students:
Lee Freedman (horse trainer)
Charlie Teo (Neurosurgeon)
Peter Dowding (former Premier of Western Australia)
Sydney Grammar School
Location: Sydney NSW
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Located in New South Wales, Sydney Grammar School is a K-12 boys' school that has been providing holistic education to Australia's finest men in history including Sir Edmund Barton and Sir George Fuller. It was founded in 1830 with its ancestor, the Sydney Public Grammar School founded in 1825, making it one of Australia's oldest schools.
Its preparatory section is composed of two schools: the Edgecliff Paddington School (K6) catering for students between Kindergarten to Year 6 and the St. Ives Preparatory School also catering for students from Preschool to Year 6. Sydney Grammar School's secondary section is located in College Street, Sydney and admits students from Year 7 to 12. With a wide array of learning opportunities, activities and open days, each student at Sydney Grammar School get to advance in the fields they enjoy most, yet grows into an all-round individual. Scholarships are also available for exceptional students in the diverse fields offered in the school. Old Sydneians also get to interact throughout their lifetime as they help keep the school independent.
Fees at this school cost an average of $35,241 but this is surely a million-dollar investment for any parent, through their children.
Day Student Fee for a Year 12 Student: $35,241.00 per annum
Type:  Boys School
Location: Darlinghurst NSW
Famous Former Students Include:
Sir Edmund Barton, former Prime Minister of Australia
Banjo Paterson, poet and author
  Melbourne Girls Grammar
Location: Melbourne VIC
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This Anglican Girls' school located in the magnificent Melbourne city of the Victoria state strives to provide an exceptional education for the girl child from ELC to Year 12. The programs here are divided into four: the Early Learning, Junior Years, Middle Years and Senior Years programs. There are also eLearning, wellbeing, co-curricular and leadership programs, all in a bid to ensure each of the young girls' strengths are fully nurtured and cultivated.
At Melbourne Girls' Grammar, there are scholarships offered at Years 5, 7 and 8 for Australian citizens and this is on the basis of academics, music and other activities. There are also boarding facilities that offer a relaxed and friendly atmosphere to optimise learning, development of self-esteem and reaching of their potential in life. There is also enrolment of international students at Melbourne Girls' Grammar and they are provided with a friendly and supportive environment for educational development, better socialisation, development of self-esteem and confidence. The Melbourne Grammar community also includes the Old Grammarians and parents, with various community events throughout the year, aimed at achieving the best out of this school.
With school fees of up to AU$35,288 and is reputed to be the best girl's schools in Australia.
Locati
Day student fee for a Year 12 student: $35,288.00 per annum.
Type: All Girls School
Famous Past Students Include:
Yumi Styles (television presenter)
Stephanie McIntosh (actor of Neighbours)
Sally Walker – Vice-Chancellor of Deakin University
Presbyterian Ladies' College
Location: Melbourne VIC
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The Presbyterian Ladies' College offers education to young girls from Kindergarten to Year 12, with boarding facilities for Years 7 to 12. PLC is a place where excellence in all aspects of life is extended. The girls are brought up into disciplined, caring, confident and accomplished young ladies of integrity and purpose.
PLC also accepts enrolment for overseas students and offers the best programs to help them catch up with life abroad. It is also among the oldest schools in Australia, having been founded in 1888 with the first enrolment of 39 girls. Today, it is home to at least 1200 girls. Education in PLC has been changing with time so as to suit the growing needs of the society, thus has kept its high educational stature from generation to generation.
School fees average to AU$30,960, but since PLC is a place where every girl is moulded into a confident and esteemed woman with integrity as the key value, you could confidently part with the amount.
Day student fees for Year 12 Student: $30,960.00
Boarding student fee for Year 12 Student $58,662.00 per annum
Type: All girls
Location: Melbourne, VIC
Famous past students include:
Rachel Corbett
Dr Kathleen Cunningham
Jessie Strahorn Aspinall
Katherine-Anne Stewart
Trinity Grammar School
Location: Melbourne, VIC
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Trinity Grammar was founded by George Chambers way back in 1913 with only 29 students. Driven by its motto, translating to “Give Glory to God,” this school caters to all academic, musical and most of all, spiritual needs. This helps the boys realise their passions, potential and purpose in life with the best learning opportunities provided. Trinity ensures that each child is given the required personal attention and taught in ways that get the best out of him, hence growth in body, mind and spirit.
Trinity Grammar School has three campuses with the Preparatory School (Pre-K-6) in Strathfield, the Junior School (K-6) in Summer Hill and the Middle & Senior (7-12) in Summer Hill. It hosts at least 2000 students. It has the most extensive curriculum that makes it one of the best boys' schools in New South Wales, especially for IB students. Each student is given an opportunity to discover their talents and skills through academic clubs, sports and creative arts among others. Most of these are at a competitive level, with the Cadet Unit hosting the largest number of students in the school.
Day school fees for Year 12 student: $31,630.00 per annum.
Boarding school fees for Year 12 student $59,060.00 per annum.
Location: Summer Hill, VIC
Famous past students include:
Andrew Gordon, Executive Chairman of the WIN Corporation Pty Ltd
Marc Fennell, Presenter of Triple J
Angus Sampson, Actor
Akmal Saleh, comedian
Haileybury College
Location: Melbourne, VIC
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With its campuses in Keysborough, Berwick and Brighton, Haileybury College is one of the best independent schools in Australia. Its incredibly high academic achievements, a broad range of curricular and co-curricular activities, small class sizes and state-of-the-art activities are among the many things that make this the school of choice for the wealthy population of Australia. Learning is based on age, gender, potential, interests and each student's different learning styles.
Haileybury College offers five main programs including the Early Learning Centre, Junior School, Middle School, Pre-Senior and Senior School programs, each suited for the child's age and learning abilities. There is also the Parallel Learning program that separates the male and female students to learn in different classes under the single-gender class arrangement. The boys and girls can only interact after class time. This school accepts international students and also has quite a number of scholarship offers to its students.
Its school fees are approximately AU$31,025.00 for day school only with International students paying $42,225.00 per annum (fees correct as of May 2018)
Location: Brighton VIC
Type:  Mixed students
Famous Ex Students Include:
Kim Dalton, Head of ABC Television
Ross Wilson, musician
The King's School for Boys
Location: Sydney, NSW
The King's School in Parramatta is an all-boys school providing education to the Sydney elite since 1831.  It offers education to boys from pre-kindergarten (4 years of age) right through to Year 12.  It is one of the largest boarding schools in Australia with a significant number of students hailing from rural areas.
Located:  North Parramatta, NSW
Fees:  Senior school including boarding is $60,188 per year.  Non-boarding students will pay $35,697 per year
Type:  All boys school
Famous past-students include:
Mike Baird (Premier of NSW)
Russell Cooper (ex-Premier of QLD)
William Forster (ex-Premier of QLD)
Sir Charles Gregory Wade KCMG (ex-Premier of NSW)
Maha Vajiralongkorn (King of Thailand)
Stirling Mortlock (Wallabies Player)
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Christ Church Grammar School
Location: Perth, Western Australia
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Being the only of its kind located in Perth, Western Australia, Christ Church Grammar offers diversity in learning. Started in 1910, this school has grown into one of the most ideal educational institutions for Australian boys, having a population of at least 1600 students. This school strives at catering for each student's individual differences, enhancing personal bests and providing structure and also feedback.
At Christ Church Grammar, school systems are divided into Preparatory School from Pre-primary to Year 6 and Senior School from Year 7 to 12, with a curriculum that best suits their age groups and their diverse strengths. Apart from education, these boys get the best Pastoral care and get a chance to learn their individual and collective strengths through a variety of indoor and outdoor learning activities. Sports, creative arts and other extra-curricular activities are encouraged among the students, a factor that has led to great legends such as the young cricketer Bradley Hope.
A Day student in Year 12 will cost $27,62.00 per annum
A Boarding student in Year 12 will cost $51,820.00 per annum.
Location:  Claremont, WA
Famous Past Students Include:
Matt Burston
Wayne Martin
Sir William Heseltine
  Brisbane Grammar School
Location: Brisbane, QLD
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Originally intended to be named Alfred Grammar after the Duke of Edinburgh, Brisbane Grammar was started in 1869 with only 40 students, making it the oldest school in this list. Some of Brisbane Grammar's notable alumni include Justice Ian Callinan, Thomas Joseph Byrnes and Tom Strachan. This boys' school enrols students from Kindergarten to Year 12 with the curriculum varying with each student's needs, strengths and talents.
Sports, creative arts and clubs are some of the extra-curricular activities that students take part in at Brisbane Grammar, with most of them getting to the competitive levels. This school ensures that teaching covers all dimensions of learning in a bid to mould the boys into all-round individuals, ready to make society better. It also accepts enrolment of overseas students and also has quite a number of scholarships for its students.
Its school fees average to AU$25,900 and being in Queensland, the students are offered enough exposure to learning activities and opportunities.
Day student cost for a year 12 student: $25,900.00 per annum
Boarding student cost for a year 12 student: $51,360.00 per annum
Type: All Boys School
Famous ex-students include:
Thomas Joseph Byrnes (former Premier of Queensland)
Dick Johnson, V8 Supercar Legend
Matt McKay, professional footballer
Stephen Moore, Wallaby Captain
Ian Haug and John Collins from Powderfinger
Brad Shepherd, The Hoodoo Gurus
The above list of the most expensive schools in Australia is based on the average fees payable by Year 12 students. Apart from scholarships, some of these private schools usually offer the students' parents school fees discounts with regard to a number of factors, such as having multiple children attending the school. These schools are basically the most prestigious in Australia and host children of the top financial tier in Australia and the world at large.
Will you send your kids to these prestigious schools?
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