#almost having extra eyes/extension of oneself kind of shit

[frosteee-variation]

🌹‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

But none of that mattered, at the moment. No musing nor empty shell of a form would draw their attention away from the matter at hand.

YEAAAHHHHH

[newlifefori]

Not all things are B&W. A little story about me.

Roel Williams

The healing process can differentiate depending on how you look at it. It can be meeting a new person that teaches you necessary lessons. It can look like accomplishing the goals you set out for yourself and sometimes it can be the complete opposite. Pure chaos, a total change of everything in front of you. Having everything destroyed and forced to rise again like the phoenix. That, personally, is the healing process, to me. We are all trying to reach the next level or just improve to be the best we can be. We strive to reach our highest potential. And sometimes, when we do not follow our calling, our bodies have a way of letting us know. That is what happened to me a couple years ago.

The street was faintly lit when I left my best friends house. I stumbled a little due to the alcohol circulating through my veins. A night of celebration because in my mind I deserved it. Anyone would after acceptance into the program I was in. I took a couple steps north towards the 7-11 so conveniently placed and open all hours of the night. Ready for anyone to walk in even at 2am. It was a couple blocks away. As I walked, I could see my breath but I didn't feel the drop in temperature until about 5 seconds later. I didn't have my ipod like I usually would so I was observant of the sounds around me. Footsteps walking up is what caught my ear. I turned to the direction of the sound and two males were in proximity. I knew what was going on but they were nice enough to clarify. “Give me all your fuckin shit right now!”. I was staring right into the barrel of a 9mm pistol but I had no signs of intimidation so they acted upon my arrogance. I felt a solid object hit the back of my head with great force. I fell to the ground. When your adrenaline is pumping you don't really feel pain. You kind of just know what's going on with what seems like subtle contact. It was all just a process until someone grabbed my head and slammed it into the cement of a worn down sidewalk forgetting by the city. Blackout.

I was recently accepted into a program that I had an 8-percent chance of getting into. The the program was called YearUp. A year long program that would teach me professional skills as well as technical. 6 months would be schooling and the other 6 months would be the intership at a very big company in the area. YearUp had a very extensive application process. If you happen to make it past the first phase you would be subjected to multiple meetings and interviews regarding your background, financial situation, living conditions, extra curricular activities and much more.  It was a very accomplished moment for me. Here I was in a program that promised me a career in Information Technology. A field that is booming here in the pacific northwest. With this opportunity I tried my hardest and put my heart into it. When it began I was off to the races. I was strong in everything. I excelled in all my classes and I even represented the school when they were trying to score grants. I did so well I earned professional of the week the second week I was there. With all this success I thought IT was the thing I wanted to do as a career. After 6 months of being in the program I was finally sent off to my internship. Seattle Children's Hospital: Research Institute. All was well. I had a badge, access to many different buildings, and on the verge of getting hired on. This was the big reason why I felt the need to celebrate.

I felt the grappling of wires around me, in fact in me. I was turned to my side when I finally awoke. I could see that I wasn't in my street clothes, as I could easily slide back to laying in a position where I faced the bright white lights in the ceiling. I focused my eyes as much as I could and I realized I was in the hospital. As I  focused my eyes a little more I took a glimpse at the foot of my bed. There I saw my mother Donna with her head down. She looked down and out. I softly called out: “Mom”. The moment she heard the sound of words escape my mouth she jumped up and ran to me, being careful to not put any weight of my frail body. She wrapped her arms around me and cried out: “Honey, please don't ever scare me like that again.”. I tried to comfort her by telling her I'm alright but she continued to hold me. I Couldn't blame her. She saw everything and I just saw the aftermath. A few moments later a male wearing white came in. He had a clipboard so I knew he was the doctor. He asked if he could sit down and talk to me. I said yes. He grabbed a stool and sat next to my bedside. That's when he let me in on what happened. “Roel, we almost lost you bud. But you're getting better now. You were in a coma for about 4 days. You really need to thank your mom because she got you here in due time.” I then looked at my mom and saw that she was starting to tear up again, I grabbed her hand. “We’re going to keep you here for a couple more days so that you can heal up a little more. Get some rest ok.” He proceeded to walk out of the room and then he stopped. He turned around, looked at me and said: “You're strong Roel. Get some rest.”. It was a lot to take in and all the medication didn't help either. I needed some clarification. I turned to my mom and asked her what happened. She said: “Honey when I arrived at your friend's house you were unconscious. So I rushed you to Highline Hospital. When they got you into the ER they told me you were blind in your left eye so they had to transport you to Harborview. When you got here you were still unconscious. They started to operate on you and that's when….” She began to cry. “That's when you...flatlined honey. They resuscitated you and you flatlined another time. They were finally able to stabilize for about five mins and for some reason you flatlined again.” I asked: “Mom? Did I die?”  she softly said: “Yes... but you kept fighting honey. You are here now and that's all that matters ok. Just please, don't scare me like that again.” I sat there in disbelief. But I sat there indeed, alive. So, even under the circumstances I was thankful.

When I was finally healthy enough I returned to my internship. It was a drastic change. Every day that I was there I felt like I wasn't supposed to be. I didn't feel fulfilled anymore and that I was wasting my time. Changing printer paper, installing software, taking monitors out of boxes and being around people that seem to be pursuing their dreams, drained me. Just a year prior I had my first keynote speech in front of a crowd of 500 people. I raised up a lot of money for the people that needed it. I felt like I could fly. Being in front of all those people, telling my story and receiving a standing ovation was the most exhilarating thing I have ever done. That was the vivid daydream I would partake in while I was dealing with people's technical issues.

A week later I had my review regarding my internship. They sat me down and told me that they were really happy with my work as well as my customer service when it came to meeting with people for their computer problems. They also said that they were going to hire me on as soon as the internship ended starting off at about 35/hr. The manager asked: “Well, how do you feel?” I replied: “I actually quit. Thank you for the opportunity but I quit.” Those near death experiences really put my life into perspective. Life can be taken away so quickly, for nothing sometimes.  And that forced me to switch my focus to my true calling. To help others find their voice by using mine.

I am a person damaged in many ways. So I will never claim to be fully healed, nor will I ever. I grew up not having a father. I also went through about 16 different foster placements because I lost my mother a day before my 7th birthday. Being 100% will never be an option for me but I can choose to live within the healing process. I believe that I can do that by following my heart and helping as many people as I can.  Because of that, I have set many goals to accomplish. On the surface they may seem to only benefit me, but deep down those goals have my community, the world, and the people ingrained within them. A goal I set for myself, that is a part of my healing process was to find stable housing for the first time in my life. People need basics necessities. Food, love, and shelter. Without those you cannot fully start to develop oneself or even begin to think about assisting someone else in the development of themselves. Shelter was always the one that got away. I've only lived in couple homes where the stay was more than a year. Trust was never established because I never knew when I would be forced to up and leave again.  So I never put up posters, bought furniture. and I sure in the hell never psychologically settled. It wasn't until a 1 ½ ago that I found a place. I was definitely skeptical about it for months but my roommate and I really connected. I could tell she really cared about me and in the process she became another mother to me. Till this day I am still in that place with a big ol poster in my room. From there, I set a really big goal for myself. To earn an opportunity to have a second keynote speech. I had one a couple years ago advocating for the foster care system and the homeless community. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to see how much more I could help my community just by using my voice. And I wanted to know for sure that giving up that job wasn't in vain. I prayed and prayed, worked hard and one day I got an email from someone claiming they had an opportunity for me. It happen to be an event coordinator speaking on behalf of this organization called Amara. Amara is an agency that promotes adoption of Foster children. They also provide resources to any youth transitioning into Foster Care. She asked me to be the keynote speaker of their event. I said: “Yes! Of course! I gladly accept” I knew then the universe was listening to my wishes and that I was on the right path. This meant the world to me because by using my voice and my story, I raised $432,000.00 for Foster Children. Kids that don't know the power of their voice, yet. Then I set a main goal back in April. It was to get back into college. With all the good things that have come from public speaking my dream revealed itself. I want to be a world renowned public speaker that changes the world in a positive way. I know that college is the first step, so here I am, pursuing my dream. And looking back, I can only be thankful for the events that occurred because without them, I wouldn't be where I am today.

I know that “Healing” doesn't occur overnight and sometimes even years. It is up to you to define what healing means and what is needed to be done in order to accomplish that. I also know that there are some things you can't fully heal. Traumas, terrible things you've seen and things you've dealt with. There is no remedy or cure for that. It just becomes fuel that, if you let it, will launch you to the end goal. Personally, I define my healing as trying my hardest to better myself and the lives of people around me. I believe that, it will be the key that unlocks the door to a place where I feel content with what's happened and what is happening. Overall, I believe in my heart, that we are all here to help one another. We’re not here to take what we can take, but here to give all that we can give. That's how I think you heal. You recover when you assist someone along the road of healing. Even if you're there for just a moment or a glimpse in time. Whether it's a smile you put on someone's face or a simple “Hello” that makes the forgotten feel remembered. You are helping someone get through the healing process. And when you do, you are also helping yourself get through it as well.



[discordandglory-blog]

Verticordi-nah || Cat, Fergus and Jax

Cat, Fergus and Jax get very drunk together after the Centurion’s Christmas party. This is hella late.

As Fergus stalked off the restaurant he tried to keep his head over his shoulders in the metaphorical sense - it helped that he had glass shards shoved so far up his palm so they kept him in the moment. His face felt warm, maybe probably because of the alcohol but at the same time, it felt like utter betrayal. He had done nothing but give his whole life to the Legion and now the very people that were supposed to be an extension of his family, turned on him. Puppet, idiot and many names that had been thrown and all he could do was walk away and lick his wounds like a dog. Hurrying off the restaurant and into the Forum, Fergus found himself a lone staircase, hidden by a pillar and sat by, slowly pinching shards from his bloodied hand and feeling tears well up on his eyes. He tried to keep them away but instead he only ended up crying on his injured hand.

Bottle of wine in hand, Cat stalked after Fergus as quick as she could possibly manage. She’d discarded her high heels for the moment and considering the fact that she had to take almost two steps for everyone of Fergus’ she thought that she had done a relatively good job at keeping up. All things considered of course. “Fergus,” she called to him, “can you slow down a fucking second.” She wasn’t bitter, not with him. Never with him. She’d been with him before his promotion, they’d grown up together and sure they may not have been that close but he was like a little brother to her and she couldn’t bear to see him in this much pain. Finally catching up with him, she paused as she realised that he was crying and pulled out the cork from the wine. “Here,” she said handing him the bottle, “drink and try to calm down. We don’t have to talk. Just let me look after that hand, you need to stop fucking yourself up all the time.”

Fergus seldom cried - in truth, he couldn’t remember when was the last time he’d caved in and cried. But this was one of those times, feeling cornered and scrutinized, he hated it. He loathed the very fact he couldn’t keep back, that he couldn’t control that. But of all people to bear witness to that, the Karavadras he didn’t mind as much. All three of his cousins were closer to him than his own brother had been - they had supplied where Murdoch had failed, they had loved him where his mother had lacked and Fergus held all three so high in his heart. “I’m sorry.” He tried not to sound as pitiful and slobbering as possible, though still reaching out for the wine and taking a long swig amid a sob, offering his hand out to Cat, a bloody mess of tears and skin and glass.

Jax was a step behind his family, having stuck around the dinner for a while longer— though he’d come soon enough to see the sad picture Fergus made. At least Cat had gotten here fast. Fergus had always been the baby of the family, younger even than Jax, and because of it all of them had taken a rather protective role towards the young man. Wordlessly, Jax had already begun to take the glass out of Fergus’ hand carefully, knowing Cat would most likely join in. “Well. At least the alcohol cleansed the wound, right?” he made a rather feeble joke. “And everyone got out of hand in there. You can’t take the blame.” Of course, Jax hadn’t approved of Fergus’ way of speaking, but that didn’t mean he didn’t agree with the man’s sentiments. They both held hate for the Greeks in their hearts.

Slipping gently in besides Jax, Cat began to pick the pieces of glass out off the wound. She wished she’d brought some vodka with her so that she could use that to clean out the wound, but red wine would have to do and borrowing the bottle from Fergus she took a large mouthful before pouring some of it on the wound. “We’re going to have to get more to drink anyway,” she said gloomily, this evening had not gone the way that she had hoped. “Maia and Lina were out of line,” she said firmly, “we’re not given our posts to question our superiors. Our system may not be perfect but we know that it works. We have to trust in the system.” She smiled gently at Fergus before pulling her scarf off and wrapping it tightly around his hand. “There, make sure that you drink nectar. I know that it tastes like shit to you but it’ll make you feel better. Now, I need another drink.” She dropped the empty wine bottle in a trashcan and frowned. “Bacchus bar?” she suggested, “or Spoils of War?”

He hadn’t expected Jax to show up but at this point, more than half drunk and hurting in ways he didn’t know how to put in words, Fergus only let his walls down and cried. “I don’t know.” It was an honest answer as he wouldn’t even flinch at the siblings picking the glass of off his palm. He had the bad habit of stitching himself roughly and patching up a lot less gently than they were acting on it so it wasn’t bad at all. It still hurt. He watched as Cat wrapped his hand, then pulled it and rubbed over his face to try and wipe the tears away and sighed, letting his head fall forward a little. “I’d really like to get drunk right now.” And that could take a while but he didn’t mind if it was around his cousins - hell, his siblings in a way. He wanted to talk but he didn’t know how.

To be honest, Jax was still processing exactly how strong of a reaction Lina had given, most likely that relationship was going to be much changed after tonight. But thankfully, years of careful compartmentalizing had allowed him to shove whatever was going on there aside— especially seeing as Fergus so obviously needed his and Cat’s help at the moment. “Getting drunk sounds amazing.” Jax wasn’t usually that heavy of a drinker. But after tonight...he didn’t particularly want to be all that aware. “But why don’t we go to Verticordia?” The Fitzgerald bar had always been one of their haunts, and he could only guess that Fergus might want to be somewhere as familiar as possible right now. Though if Oleana was there...there’d have to be a change in plans. Jax wasn’t letting that demon of a mother anywhere near Fergus when he was in such a state as this.

Cat had dismissed Verticordia in her head due to the potential for someone to be there that they didn’t want seeing Fergus like this, but at Jax’s suggestion she found herself gently nodding along. “Let’s getting going,” she suggested. Once upon a time she would’ve climbed aboard Fergus’ shoulders like they used to do when he was still a kid, but already double her height. This time, she simply comforted herself by standing by his side as she led the two of them along the winding cobbled streets of New Rome and into Verticordia. Directing them to a table, she walked to the bar. “Three shots of whiskey and three largers, or Guiness. I don’t particularly care right now.” She dropped an extra drachma on the pile for her impatience. “Please.” She said pushing the drachmas towards him and returning to their table.

Fergus didn’t particularly feel like going to his family’s Pub, mostly because he didn’t want to risk his mother seeing him falling apart like this but the odds were small and he sure as hell could use some familiarity by now. Plus it was close enough that he didn’t need to walk around feeling like he had just been through the meat grinder. By the time they got there, there weren’t many customers left, it wasn’t a sports’ night and it was almost closing. He waved to the (two of) his uncles behind the bar and sat by a corner with Jax and Cat. It took only enough for Keegan to show up and simply drop three pints and a Jameson bottle by their table. “Ta, un.” Fergus nodded back at the man who didn’t ask any questions and left them be, so he merely reached out to literally pour a whiskey shot into the pint.

Jax raised a silent prayer to the gods when it turned out that Fergus’ mother was nowhere to be seen, as well as the fact that Keegan had done nothing more than dispense their alcohol to them. In a flash, Jax had downed the shot he’d been offered before chasing it with the pint he’s been presented with. For once, he didn’t want to be the responsible one, though he was still vividly aware of his desire to look after Fergus for the moment. “Drink up then, Fergus. Do your little Minnow name proud.” It was a childhood nickname between them, something of a joke towards Fergus’ heritage— as well as just the concept of the little fish being a common moniker for children younger than oneself. “Make like a fish. You too, Cat.”

Laughing brightly at her brother’s reaction, Cat swallowed her shot and took a long sip from her beer. “Well, there is nothing quite like the stuff that they serve here,” she smiled and poured them all another round of shots before swallowing hers and holding up the empty glass. “To the Legion and the shit show that we get to deal with whenever anything ever goes wrong.” She laughed mirthlessly and sat back in her chair, nursing her drink. “They have no clue what we’ve had to sacrifice for this place,” she was in the middle of a bar that was empty and the staff all knew about or were members of the cult, otherwise she wouldn’t be this frank, “Lina and Maia are naive, Adriana is trying desperately to keep the peace but there are too many pissed of Centurions.” She winced into her pint and shook her head. “Maybe we should all just give it up.” She laughed, it wasn’t a very funny joke. But she couldn’t imagine the three of them doing anything other than this.

Fergus couldn’t help the smirk that crept past his lips as Jax brought up his childhood moniker, it had been long since anyone could use any kind of diminutive regarding him, after all he had grown into his titan’s blood streak, but still, he had been practically raised by his cousins hands. He took a minute-long chug from the laced pint and simply reached out for the whiskey glass, downing it as well. Though with two of the people he loved most, Fergus suddenly felt painfully, terribly alone. “I thought about it.” Fergus admitted, voice lowered as if his mother was right around the corner - he had the faint impression she’d kill him before he gave up on the Legion and the brilliant career she had planned for him. He frowned at the beer mug in his hand, unable to look at his cousins. “Maybe I should just leave. The Legion. New Rome.” It was almost impossible to him - he was a demititan, his blood drew monsters like moths to a flame. But maybe that should be how he went out.

Jax had already lifted the second shot to his lips when Fergus’ words broke through the air. Just as he had resigned himself to getting absolutely drunk, he put down the shot. If Fergus was going to speak like this, perhaps Jax would have to save his own pity party for later. Though who knew when that later would be, if ever. It didn’t help that Leo had just left the Legion, and he wondered vaguely if everyone had made some sort of pact to ditch the Cohorts. Of course, he knew it to not be true. “Leaving the Legion is your choice. Though I’d say you’re a better asset to it than on the outside. And leaving New Rome…” he trailed off, emotional unavailability making it hard for him to speak openly. “Well, the family wouldn’t be the same.” It was the closest he could get to admitting he would miss Fergus if the man ever left in that moment.

A deep furrow marked Cat’s brow as she listened to Fergus’ selection, her head deep in the tankard of beer that had been provided for them. Wiping her mouth in a very unladylike manner that would’ve shocked her father, Cat wished that Jax could get over the masculine barriers to emotion that seemed to hold both her brother and cousin in place. “What Jax means is that you have worked just as hard as anyone else, you’ve not been given your place in the Legion, I know that you’ve earned it. You’ve done more for Rome than anyone could ever believe, and we’d be lost without you.” She grabbed another shot and swallowed it, the alcohol had destroyed the usual filter that she had in place. The mask of neutrality. But only around Fergus and Jax. Only family earned that mark of respect.

Boy’s don’t cry. That had been one of the first things he’d hear ever since his family had accepted him as a man, or at least acknowledged it that way but not much had changed since. Maybe if he still identified as a girl they’d still hold his weaknesses and failures up to his face. “Drink.” Fergus pointed to Jax before taking another shot himself. He wasn’t going to be drunk alone and he didn’t want to do any talking more than he had to. Fergus sneered as he sipped from his beer. “I thought about it but I’m not going to, it’s not like I’m good for anything else.” Most times he wasn’t even sure he was good at this - he couldn’t doubt himself, he served the Legion and the Senate, and the City of New Rome, even if that jeopardized his relationships. He still smiled back at his cousins, dunking another shot - how much he could drink until his mind blacked out, was a good question.

For Jax, it was less about gender and more about practicality— though it was likely that toxic masculinity had some part in his ways. But mostly it had to do with the fact that at the age of sixteen, after having been thrust into a blood-hungry and murdering Cult, he’d quickly learned that indifference was the easiest way to get a job done. He’d taken the practice of distancing himself from his emotions into his daily habits, learning fast that being cool and collected and shoving down otherwise distracting thoughts had inumerous benefits. Unfortunately, the Cult hadn’t seen fit to teach him an off button for the practice, though tonight had tested that in the last few moments of the Centurion dinner. “Oh, stop it. I told Leo, and I’ll tell you— you need to give yourself more credit.” He could still feel the emotions trying to break free of their neat little box he held inside him, and though it was most likely a bad idea, he followed Fergus’ advice and drank his second shot of the night, once more following it with a long swig of his pint that was now empty. By the end of it, his head had begun to swim in the slightest. After all, he was already some drinks in from their disastrous dinner. “And though I always hate to admit it, Cat is correct with what she said.”

Cat slugged back another shot of whiskey, the shots weren’t even burning the back of her throat anymore and she was pretty convinced that that wasn’t a good sign. The world seemed to swim around her and she pulled out her phone to call for her father’s driver to come and collect them. “Come on,” she grunted as she looked over to the Fitzgeralds that were drinking their own drinks, waiting for their last patrons to leave the bar so that they could close up for the night, “it is time that we got some sleep, we’re going to have a hangover like hell tomorrow and we’ve got to try and clean up this bullshit that happened tonight.” Standing, she stumbled and steadied herself against a chair. “I’m serious though Fergus, you can’t leave the Legion, the Legion needs strong leadership like you and the Legion needs people who aren’t afraid to do what they know they have to do. Just because other people don’t understand that doesn’t mean that you should pay the price.” She grabbed the mostly empty bottle of Jamesons and took a sip from it, wincing at the taste.

Fergus looked back at his cousins and curled his lips - lightweights, compared to him, he wasn’t nearly drunk enough and Jupiter knew how much he needed to erase this night from his memory. “You go home, you look trashed.” He waved at Cat and Jax, before reaching out again for the whiskey bottle as it reached its half. “I’ll be fine.” It was his family’s pub anyway and even if he passed out, he was going to be alright. He didn’t want to go back--- back where? His office? He couldn’t be in the Cohort with Maia glaring holes into his back every time, he couldn’t go to his family’s home without his mother being there. So there weren’t many options. Fergus poured himself another generous dose and reached out to get Cat’s phone, dialing Jefferson.

Jax wasn’t nearly as drunk as Cat, though he was still trying to make the effort to get to such a place. Perhaps it was Cat’s small stature that allowed her to get wasted faster than he could. Still, he was sober enough to realize that Fergus was dialing his father’s direct line rather than the driver’s, and he quickly pressed the end call button as a wave of panic overtook him. “Jeez, Fergus— get us murdered why don’t you?” Jefferson would be far from amused to get a call from his children at this hour, especially when they were less than sober. He shuddered at the thought of how their father would react to such a thing. But he quickly rectified the situation by dialing the driver’s line instead and handing the phone back to Cat. Most likely it would only take a few minutes for the driver to get here, but Jax didn’t like the idea of leaving Fergus in the state he was in. “Why don’t you come with us, Fergus? We can make up your usual room and everything. And you know Jefferson always welcomes family.”

Laughing Cat shrugged. “Are you kidding?! Get Jeffery down here so I can get taken home by daddy dearest.” She rolled her eyes and laughed mirthlessly. Rolling her eyes at the pair of them she picked up her phone and spoke quickly to the driver in Latin, instructing him to pick them up as soon as possible. Returning to the table she slumped back down. “Driver will be here soon but Fergus my brother is correct, we can’t leave you here on your own in this state, I’d hate to discover something happened to you when we had left you in this state.”