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#ana's atmosphere is cool though
imanes · 2 months
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Imaneee I'm so glad you like the Tainted Cup, I was the anon who recommended it and I loved it so much too, what did you think? For me, I love the balance Robert Bennet strikes between descriptions of settings and overall dialogue and plot, like in my brain I felt like I could picture it all so effortlessly without being bored at all and all the character descriptions felt like actual character designs in my brain I was picturing them like anime characters for some reason like those old school atmospheric animes I had sm fun
i'm so glad you recommended it!! hmmm my favorite part was probably the magic system? cuz I'm a sucker for intricate ecologies. it's hard to say because like you i felt like the tainted cup struck the perfect balance between worldbuilding, characterisation and intricate machinations which were all embedded into this super cool and unique ecology of weird plants and scary leviathans, so overall i had a really good time just immersing myself in the story and letting it all wash over me while i was like hmmm whodunnit? i also LOVE the din x ana duo. actually these two might have been my favourite part of the book skjdlfgj i grew really attached to them even though it's not the most character-forward book I've read. I'm super excited about the sequel!!
btw i also finished senlin ascends <3 really liked it as well, I think I'll read the sequel sometime in August or September (I have a library hold for the audiobook so I'll get the book at the same time). the beginning was definitely a rollercoaster but the last sequence was chef's kiss. i love how the author subverted tropes about friendship and how senlin grew a spine in the tower instead of letting the tower grind him into dust like so many others. I'm just super curious about where the story is going bc god knows the author doesn't follow any classic element of the hero's quest lmao. but really from the bottom of my heart FUCK that tower lmaooo
if you have any more recommendations let me know i trust u with my life now <3
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winter-b0nes · 1 year
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☁️Intro Post☁️
Hey there guys, girls and everyone otherwise! I'm Iris (they/them) and I'm not new to this whole ana thing by a long shot, but I hated the atmosphere on twt so I'm back! Some of you guys might remember me, but if not, that's also cool.
☁️ I'm 18, so a legal adult - I'd ask people under 15 not to interact out of personal preference. If I accidentally follow you and you're under 15 or don't want an adult following you, let me know!
☁️ Stats wise - I go into more detail in my bio, but my LW is around 42KG and my CW is around 69KG. I'm around 5'3 or 5'4 but I'm not too sure.
☁️ I enjoy playing video games, classic rock and most other music tbh (unfortunate Smiths enjoyer here), playing the gituar/drums, walks and art. I also study *a lot* even though that's just because I have a ridiculous amount of exams.
☁️ Expect WIEIADs, random rants, thinspo posts and imagines (so cringe and yet motivating at the same time), memes ect.
I can't wait to meet some of you and get back to talking to the void that is tumblr, haha!
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gisatako · 3 years
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ep2, I'd like to go to Ana's and befriend Gren.
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keltonwrites · 3 years
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I'm not sure if that's a good thing
“Well you’re definitely the first.” This past week, we screened-in the eastern facing porch on the side of the cabin. The porch slopes to the South, with the brick-on-dirt floor crumbling in that direction as well until it reaches uneven slabs of stone acting as steps down to the “yard” below. A mixed material retaining wall wraps beneath the steps to the south facing garage, holding up one corner of the narrow deck on the front of the house. The deck, in the heat of a high altitude summer, droops off the house like it’s daydreaming about the winter snow’s embrace. It’s safe to sit on, though I would not recommend leaning on the railing.
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The side porch takes the brunt of the wind. Our wooden rocking chairs have been rocked some 20 feet into the yard more than once in the two months we lived here. In the myriad of threats we heard about the weather, most people included the wind. We all know how I feel about this ongoing weather intimidation tactic. I asked, “what speed are the gusts?” “Oh, they get up to 70 miles per hour on some days.” This was the first quantifiable piece of weather information someone had offered — an actual number we could react to with data and our historical personal experiences of various weather events. And our reaction was: uhhhh…. OK???? Look, I get it. No one’s preaching the skin benefits of -20 degree wind gusts at 70 mph, building snow drifts against your house in the span of minutes that Cooper could die in. I am not going to pretend that’s pleasant. But 70 mph? Any wind I’ve driven faster than does not intimidate me. I used to rally the horses at 12 years old in winds over 70mph to get them in the barn before the latest tornado whipped through. I helped shutter the resort in the BVI as the Category 5 hurricane rolled in. Even in Topanga, 70 mile per hour gusts were not uncommon in Santa Ana events. We had our single pane windows shatter more than once from debris in the wind. We taped cardboard up and went to sleep. That “70 mph” was all I needed to hear to confirm our next project: we were going to build a catio for these cats, and we were going to do it on the pre-existing porch structure to save time and money. We spent a week framing out the structure. We had to carve into the logs of the house to embed the wood supports for the framing.
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And from there, every piece of wood was custom carved and cut to fit around the existing timber supports. The existing porch was so wildly uneven that there are gaps between each piece of old wood and the new framing. Our plan is to mix all the wood chips from the project with mortar/chinking and stuff the gaps — a good solution for the log cabin look. We built a plywood pony wall up to 28 inches from the interior of the porch, which gives a height of ~4-5ft from the exterior ground below. It’s capped with a 2x6” railing for even the fluffiest of cats to find a perch. The exterior will be wrapped with corrugated metal that we’ll quick-age to match the metal that wraps the bottom of the cabin. On the interior of the porch, we’ll use shiplap to hide the framing.
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The screens themselves can withstand winds up to 120 mph, but to-be-determined if they can hold the weight of a growing maniac cat who has already tried to climb them. In the event the screens succumb to cat (or wind or snow or neighbor judgment) we’ll reinforce with metal mesh. We’re going to maintain this screen porch regardless of what the screen is. We had the pleasure of running into one of our more industrious neighbors the other day, and Ben asked him, “hey we’re building a screen porch. Is this a terrible idea?” He laughed. “Well you’re definitely the first.” But he liked it. Great way to diminish wind into the house. Simple way to regulate the temperature with massive south-facing windows. And indeed a practical outdoor safe haven for cats in predator territory. Just because you’re the first doesn’t mean you’re foolish — just foolhardy. There’s plenty of that here. This town has the typical mountain town’s truncated version of a colonizers’ history: “established 1881.” But it was plenty established prior to that by the Uncompahgre Band of the Ute Nation, removed by the U.S. Army on September 7, 1881, nearly 140 years ago. The government relocated the Uncompahgre Ute People to Utah, and one year after the Ute were forcibly removed from their ancestral land, San Miguel County split off from Ouray County and was made its own political subdivision in the newly-formed State of Colorado. In 1879, the ore-laden valley already had 50 people living in it, with a new narrow gauge railway only 2 miles away. By 1885, it was a town of 200 people. There was a hotel, a couple saloons, a pool hall. Winters were treacherous; the valley was and is prone to avalanches. But where there’s gold, there’s gumption. The power needed to run the stamp mill to process ore drove innovation. Timber was scarce at such high elevations, so a wood powered steam mill wouldn’t cut it. But the San Miguel River just a few miles down from the mine looked promising. Thus began the development and construction of the Ames Hydroelectric Generating Plant. It was a hit. In fact, it was so successful that the Ames Plant led to the adoption of alternating currents at Niagara Falls and eventually to being adopted worldwide as a viable power solution. The plant remains, but the gold rush obviously didn’t. By 1940, the U.S. Census declared this little town I call home as tied for the lowest population in the country: 2 people. By 1960, it was one of four incorporated towns in the U.S. with no residents. But the joke was on the Census — the town’s single resident was just out of town the day the census came through. 1960 population: 1. By 1980 the population grew to 38, 69 in 1990, and about 180 now. (Plus 51 dogs according to the town’s website.) With modern amenities, it’s easier to be here. Studded snow tires, satellite internet, solar panels, instant coffee. No matter the hardships, there’s the reality of the present. In the 1880s, as the town boomed, the Ouray Times declared, “it will be at no distant day a far more pretentious town than it is now.” That day hasn’t exactly arrived, but I guess it depends on what you consider pretentious. I don’t think the town claims any airs of excellence beyond what’s true. In fact, the town hardly claims anything at all. There’s no sign indicating it’s even here. There’s just the old side and the new side. The new side, the Eastern half, was drawn out in the early 1990s, some 100 years later, and is separated from the Old Town by an avalanche zone—preserved open space for hiking in the summer, preserved open space for surviving in the winter. The town forbids short-term rentals, no one has a fence, dogs roam free, and all the houses have that cabin look to them. A boulder nests in a grove near a trailhead in the center of town with a plaque paying respect to the Utes who called this valley home. There’s no industry here. No businesses allowed. If you want a $7 latte, you can drive the 14 miles required to get it, assuming there’s not an avalanche blocking your path. You can, however, buy a pink lemonade in a
solo cup at the permanent lemonade stand run by the local feral child mafia. Crystals (rocks) can be purchased for an additional cost. We bought one, hoping to buy favor at the same time. The town plan has a few guiding principles, and it’s all in the name of preservation. We must preserve: 1 - the quiet atmosphere 2 - the rustic character 3 - the natural setting
And finally: 4 - protect the health and wellbeing of the people here No snowmobiles, no ATVs, no drones. In fact, the only sign of the outside world here are the passers-through. When you take the dirt road through town to the end, you enter National Forest, and you can hike over the pass saddle at nearly 12,000 feet before descending down the other side into Silverton. The pass road climbs rutted through an aspen forest before scaling across a scree field and then lurching over to the other side. Every day, it seems like 30 or so Texans and Arizonans in lifted and loud Jeeps with unused mods climb over this mountain in the comfort of their air conditioning, simply to drive down the other side. You could hike it, ride it, run it, and ski it, but they don’t. They rev their engines, kicking up dust in a town of feral children and roaming dogs, staring at us instead of waving. I’ve lived here for two months and look how salty I am. I’ll fit in yet. But today, there is a temperature that whispers of perfect trails and the dwindling of ogglers driving 35 in a 15. It’s already snowed in the mountains we see from our kitchen. Today, like a dedication to the Septembers of our youth, you can feel a chill in the air. A temperature akin to pencils and sweaters and reinventing yourself. A temperature that doesn’t exactly sing “screen porch” but could if you had the right slippers on. That’s what I did this morning: put my slippers on and sat there in the cool mountain morning air, thinking about the cemetery behind our house, about the Ute tribe, about the miners, about the mailman who died on Christmas in 1875 on the pass, about the 5 people who died in avalanches here just last year, about the people in their cars on their phones driving through, and all the people who’s very first question to us was, “so are you gonna live here part-time or full-time?” Maybe it will be a hard place to live. But at least we’ll have a screen porch.
Every week I'm writing about moving to log cabin in a small town at 10,000 feet. Subscribe here for free: tinyletter.com/keltonwrites
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myelocin · 4 years
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REQ #1 & #2
Synopsis: 
req #1 @xavestory​ | Catching the last train home and seeing your muse seated across you while the pages on your sketchbook calls for you to mirror the reflections in his irises. 
 req #2 @mrs-kuroojinguji​ | Sixteen hour flights to a new city with a photographer who has an eye for sunsets and people may have its perks. 
Characters: Sakusa Kiyoomi, Kuroo Tetsurou, You
a/n: This is the first two requests of Stories in Passing!  Three more in a separate post will be posted sometime tonight!
[ Sakusa Kiyoomi | For Xave, ] | Platform 2 of  JR Line, Miyagi Station
The perks of taking a train to the lesser populated side of town had as much perks as taking the last train scheduled for that day. For one, rush hour both in the mornings and evenings meant that you wouldn’t have to compete for seats or give up yours for a senior citizen. Second, or perhaps, your more favorable reason was that you were able the extra hour of commute both to and from work to catch some much needed down time and sketch.
Your sketchbook had taken permanent residence in your work bag at this point. There was something about the constant flip between the train’s motion stopping and starting that feels like it’s still constantly on the go despite the stops. And people were in a sense, the most beautiful when they were relaxed. Or at least you think so.
If someone were to flip through the pages of your sketch book, they’d see the faces of strangers staring back at them. The little girl who dozed off on her mom’s arm last week, the profile of a man standing by the door, and now—the stranger who’s occupying the seat across yours.
Even as you were standing on the platform you were automatically drawn to him. Despite the mask, he was irrefutably gorgeous. Sharp eyes, perfectly curled hair that fell on his eyes just right, and two moles that looked perfectly in place right above his eyebrow. As soon as he took a seat and nodded in your direction when your eyes crossed, your hands itched to sketch the living art in front of you.
The hour passed by a lot faster than you had anticipated with your stop being the next. You’re standing in front of the door waiting for the train to slow in to a stop when you notice him stand up and follow you out.
You’ve made it about twenty steps away from the train and the platform and into the elevator before the really good looking stranger looks at your sketchbook and then up at you.
“Artist?” he asks, and you can already feel your face warming up at the baritone of his voice. You nod, then grip your sketchbook closer to you.
“Can I see how you drew me?” he asks again, after some silence and instantly you pale as you turn to gawk at him.
“Excuse me?” you manage to sputter out.
And again, despite half of his face covered his mask—the intensity of his eyes as it bares down on you has you scrambling to look at anywhere but him. You hear him chuckle when you sprint out of the elevator as soon as the doors open.
Cursing yourself, you take a few deep breaths thinking of what to say before turning back to face him. Though, to be frank you didn’t expect him to still be standing in front of you, one arm in his pocket and the other holding the strap of his backpack.
“So,” he begins, beating you to starting the explanation you know you don’t have, “if I buy you dinner will you finally show me?”
Your mouth drops and you stare at him. “Sorry,” you begin, “what?”
He sighs in a way that has you even more confused, then reaches up to pull his mask down. “I said if I buy you dinner will you finally show me? I know you draw people when you’re in the train, just surprised that you finally picked me this time.”
You’re still staring, or rather, gawking, at his face up until he smirks in your direction and turns, saying, “I’ll take that as a yes since you’re not exactly saying no either. See you tomorrow, Xave.”
If possible, your mouth drops even further as your cheeks turn even redder when you realize he must have read the signature you sign near the edge of your sketches. Has he noticed you that long?
Your cheeks continue to stay red even as you turn and walk home. It’s when you’re some blocks away that you finally let yourself think about how beautiful that man really looked. The contours of his nose as sharp as the edges of his eyes, lips stretched to the most perfect grin and his eyes—dark and analytic as he stared straight at yours.
You smile; your hands itch to sketch his face again.
-
xave’s sketch is the reference to this!
[ Kuroo Tetsurou | For Ana, ] | Jakarta - London, 7:18 PM
When people stare, there’s sort of a social etiquette one usually adheres to and that is at least trying to not make it obvious.
Not in this case, though.
Waiting for your flight was usually enjoyable for you. People watching, for one was interesting; by the time you’ve checked in you could already gouge out at least ten stories of people either parting or reuniting. Then, it was the constant feeling of just being in motion; a solid destination in mind too.
Plus, the smell of coffee just constantly around the air easily became one of your favorite comforts you associated with airports. There was truly nothing better to perk you up for a long flight ahead than the smell of caramel on coffee and swirls of whip cream kissing your lips.
But this—or rather, the guy just blatantly staring at you felt odd.
He didn’t look like he was necessarily out to get you, but he just stared straight at you in a way that seemed too analytic for “just” people watching. At this point, you’ve probably shifted your body with a complete 90 degree angle just to face away from him, but you could still feel his gaze burn on the back of your head so you sigh. A quick glance at your watch told you that there’s only twenty minutes away until boarding.
-
And of course, it’s just your luck when the grandmother who was supposedly seated next to you switches seats with the man across the aisle.
“Hey,” he greets and you offer a tight smile at best. Great, you think, almost a sixteen hour flight next to the dude who can’t stop staring.
He’s quiet for a majority of the time. A majority. The minority was the conversations he slips in between meals and lulls in the atmosphere. Kuroo Tetsurou, twenty six years old and works for the Japan Volleyball Association as his career, but has a habit of people watching and photography from time to time.
“Does this mean you take photos of random people?” you joke, and he lets out a laugh that you catch is quite endearing as a response.
“No, no—“ Tetsurou explains, laughing again. “Not in the creepy way I swear.”
You’re look at him in between bites of your dinner and nod for him to continue. He smiles at your cue and continues, “People are interesting.”
“Maybe it’s because I was a captain back then or that observing people now is my job, but keeping that observation in candid photographs is pretty cool,” Tetsurou finishes and you take note he has a glazed look over his eyes; like he’s far away.
He’s quick to snap out when he notices you still staring so he smiles, laughing, and looks down at his dinner. “At least, I think so.”
“You have a point,” you tell him. He nods, looking out at the window beside your seat and directs his smile there.
“Wanna switch seats? Sun’s about to go down and I think you might wanna take a photo of the view.” you ask and he’s quick to shake his head. “It’s okay, the view here is nice too.”
You smile and nod your head not realizing he meant that he was looking at you.
-
It’s about thirteen hours later when you’re finally stretching and standing by the arrival area with your suitcase in tow in line at a starbucks. Tetsurou, the stranger in passing peeked his head in the entrance and shot you a smile as he spotted you.
“Morning,” you wave, smiling.
He returns your smile and that’s when you notice him fidgeting with the strap of his backpack.
“I, uh—“ he starts avoiding to look straight at you. “I was taking photos of the sunset earlier and you happened to be in one of the shots by accident, I swear. I can dele—“
You cut him off with a nudge to his shoulder and a laugh. “Let me see.”
He stands next to you while you scroll through the images. You have to admit, though, he definitely had an eye for color. The skies over Jakarta looked like a different kind of beautiful especially in the photos you happened to turn and shoot him a smile.
“Not to be creepy,” Tetsurou starts and you snicker. “—that’s exactly what a creepy guy would say,” you cut him off as a retort.
“On a scale of one to ten, this photo of you would be a hundred.”
You laugh at his comment and tug your suitcase, walking forward to the counter. “Guess I have to buy you coffee as payment?”
Tetsurou’s eyes gleam when you shoot him another smile, then his hands itch to click the shutter of his camera.
“As long as I get your number too, Ana.”
 -
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des-idk · 3 years
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Thoughts on the Second Rehearsals
Today was fucking amazing, it felt like everyone delivered something interesting. I’m so hyped for next week you have no idea. My top 15 from today, with comments, is as follows:
Russia 🇷🇺 : This is just fucking spectacular. The message of the song, the vocals, the staging, Manizha’s stage presence, everything was interesting and captivating and I fucking loved it.
Ukraine 🇺🇦 : Although Go_A had a stand in for Kateryna today, this was still phenomenal. You couldn’t find fault in this if you tried. Everything about this was just amazing.
Australia 🇦🇺: gay 80s twerking (again, i love this with every fiber of my being, this was amazing)
Lithuania 🇱🇹: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. This is so fun and full of energy, I can’t say anything bad about it.
Belgium 🇧🇪: THEY COULD QUALIFY WITH THIS IM TELLING YOU. God this is just amazing. It’s so atmospheric and fitting for the song I’m in awe
Cyprus 🇨🇾: This has really grown on me, I’m not the biggest fan of the song but the staging is so cool you can’t help but like it.
Malta 🇲🇹: This has improved from the first rehearsals but I still don't think it's as good as it could be. The only thing keep this from a lower spot is the fact that the song is just so good and Destiny's stage presence is great.
Ireland 🇮🇪: This is another song that’s really grown on me. I think the staging is so unique and engaging and I think that having something so different to what else we’re seeing this year will do wonders for Ireland.
Romania 🇷🇴: Dude this is just cool, I don’t have a lot to say lol I just think it’s neat
Croatia 🇭🇷: This is just fun, Albina has such a great stage presence and this song is just a lot of fun.
Slovenia 🇸🇮: This has really grown on me over the rehearsals, Ana's vocals are great and I really hope juries save her cause I don't think televoters will like this too much
Israel 🇮🇱 : Damn she really did that huh, those whistle notes were fucking impressive jesus christ
Azerbaijan 🇦🇿: I've never really liked this song so this did nothing for me. The LEDs look cool I guess but I literally have nothing to say about this
Norway 🇳🇴: This is fine, it hasn't changed from the national final and we haven't seen a change from the first rehearsals, this just fine idk
Sweden 🇸🇪: This exists I guess...
North Macedonia 🇲🇰: This is just boring, I do not have anything else to say honestly, sorry
Well that was fucking eventful. I forgot to post this yesterday so this just sat in my drafts all day. Kinda worked out though cause Malta didn't have their first rehearsal till today. I'm going to make my semi-final 2 ranking tomorrow once everyone is done so keep an eye out for that. In the meantime, have a good day everyone <3
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arcaneglitch · 4 years
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Destcember Day 1: Exodus
The Pyramid loomed dark on Mercury’s horizon, the Sun’s fire forming a blinding halo around it, struggling to reach the ground of the planet below. The swish of radiolarian waterfalls combined with the distant crackle of the ever-present lightning under the Pyramid formed an eerie melody that wandered over the Vex structures, unencumbered by the bustle of Guardian activity that had been a constant presence for nearly four years. No gunfire. No sparrows. The Vex opened their gateways unhindered, their work ever-continuing.
On the high towers of the Lighthouse, one figure stood vigil as the last of the ships took to the sky. The keepers had vanished. Some, like Brother Vance, had gone into the forest to brave the weft and weave of time. Some had flown on jumpships. Others had simply vanished.
The Exo Warlock stood alone on the edge of the Lighthouse, his orange eyes staring out at the Pyramid, monitoring for any sign of unusual activity. He knew he should leave soon but something kept him there, lingering halfway between the warmth of the Sun and the Pyramid’s shadow. A desire to know, perhaps. To know the unknowable. He had been reborn in the midst of a war. A war that the Guardians were losing. No one said it, but everyone knew it.
“We should go,” said Bellerophon, “We don’t want to be here when that thing goes live.”
“What do you think is going to happen?" he asked, eyes still glued to the Pyramid.
“I don’t know,” his Ghost replied in a tone that meant he didn’t care to find out, “But the others are waiting, Seven. Their ships are in orbit. We should join them.”
Seven sighed, turning away from the Pyramid. “So ready to abandon this place,” he said, “All of these places. Should we give way so easily?”
“We don’t have a choice,’ said Bellerophon, “Better to give ground and live to fight another day. A tactical retreat, they call it.” He paused. “Some of them have already left. They’re flying back to the Tower.”
“What’s the rush?”
“Apparently, the Traveler’s started showing signs of activity. Guardians are gathering in the Tower and City to watch.”
“Is the Traveler going to fight the Darkness?” Seven asked in surprise.
“It certainly seems to be gearing up for something… Let’s go.”
Seven nodded, giving into his Ghost’s wishes. “Alright, Bel. We’ll leave. Call the ship. It’s time for a… tactical retreat.”
———————————————————————
High up on the Pyramidion, Jesse watched Asher work. The Warlock appeared to move in no more of a hurry than usual, but Jesse could feel a charge in the air. The others were gone. Some had left as soon as the Pyramid arrived. Some had waited, fighting and studying the Darkness for as long as they could until Zavala had given the evacuation order.
“Is he really staying? ” they asked their Ghost.
“Yes,” replied Root, still in phase, “He’s chosen to remain here until the end.”
“Why?” asked Jesse.
It was something Asher would surely know to be unsurvivable, especially to only one Guardian. The practical thing to do would be to cut his losses and return to the Tower like everyone else. Or relocate to another place to study the Vex. Like Nessus.
“I think it’s easier this way,” said Root carefully, “For him.”
Jesse nodded. It was certainly his own choice. They wouldn’t try to interfere. But they found it difficult to turn away from the Warlock. They had taken to watching him from afar, finding new places to sit when he managed to spot them. He hadn’t found this one yet. Jesse wasn’t interested in the Vex at all. The Taken and the Nine held their interest. They had heard the Nine mentioned in connection with the Jovian moons so they’d decided to poke around. Asher had intrigued Jesse enough to make them stay for a while, wondering at his drive for knowledge. His sharp tongue and arsenal of insults were easy to avoid if one just sat far enough away or out of sight.
The only thing that bothered Jesse was when he called them “Hunter.” “I can see you, Hunter,” he’d snap whenever he caught sight of them. Jesse knew why he said that. They favored Hunter gear, after all. But it wasn’t fair that Hunters got to have all the cool armor. Still, it was easier to let all the other Guardians assume that Jesse was a Hunter than go to the effort of explaining anything.
Suddenly, a sharp voice rang out across the empty zone. “I can see you!” said Asher accusingly. He signed at them to go away -- a swooping, dismissive wave of the hand.
Giving up the pretense of hiding, Jesse stood up. Good luck, they signed.
Asher rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Begone with you!”
Jesse asked Root to call their ship. It swooped in, hovering next to their perch. With one last wave at Asher, they transmatted inside, directing it to leave Io's atmosphere. It was time to turn their eyes homeward.
———————————————————————
The storm on Titan was thunderous. It was always raining there, but this time the sky and sea were in a fury like nothing Tristan had ever seen. Methane waves slapped the side of the Golden Age rig, throwing him off-balance as he struggled into the meager shelter of the control center. Sloane was standing at the thick-paned windows, looking out as the lights of jumpships vanished into the clouds. The Titan had an air of calm about her, forming a sharp contrast to the raging storm. Or perhaps she was merely the eye of it. She turned to regard Tristan. The Warlock knew he must be an interesting sight -- robes soaked through and hair plastered with rain.
“Come to take on the Pyramid with me, Bentlix?” she asked, eyes glinting like the lightning reflected in her fierce smile.
Tristan shook his head. “Bazzle asked me to check on you,” he told her, “He would be here himself, but-”
She held up a hand, cutting him off. “Yeah, I know. He’s teaching the new Lights. Just as well. Someone needs to show them the ropes… So tell me, he ask you to convince me to go back?”
Tristan hesitated. “As a matter of fact, he did want to know if you would… reconsider.”
Sloane laughed. “No way in hell. You can tell him I said that.”
Tristan nodded. It was what he had expected to hear from her. “Zavala will lose a great Deputy Commander,” he said, “and the City will be missing a strong Light.”
Sloane nodded, her mouth set in determination. “I know. But this is something I have to do. Now you should get going, or the City will be short another Guardian.”
Tristan nodded. “I hope to see you on the other side of this,” he said sincerely.
“Who knows? Maybe you will.”
She gave him one last smile before turning away, walking towards her office. Tristan sighed but stepped back out into the pouring rain to get within transmat range. Once he was back in his ship, he blinked the water out of his eyes, taking one last look at Saturn's tempestuous moon before setting coordinates for the Tower.
———————————————————————
Nothing disturbed the Martian surface. No Cabal. No shrieking Hive. No warsats. And now, no Guardians, save two.
Kaedro’s footsteps echoed in the lobby of Braytech Futurescape as he climbed the stairs to the large windows where Ana Bray stood, Jinju at her shoulder. Kaedro noticed the lack of equipment. He had become accustomed to seeing blinking consoles and other tech around Ana.
“You really cleared everything out, huh?” he remarked.
Ana nodded. “As much as we could. Anything and everything that might help,” she said.
“I assume old Red’s included in that?” His tone was dry. Again, she nodded. “Does Big Blue know?”
“He does. He’s not entirely happy about it, though.”
“When is he happy about anything? Still, if he’s lettin’ you do it, that’s pretty remarkable… You really think you can get Rasputin to work in an Exo body?”
“I have to try,” she said grimly, “It’s going to be more difficult without the Mindlab or the Futurescape, but if there’s a chance, I have to take it.”
Kaedro nodded. He understood that. If there had been a chance for him to stop Cayde from going to his death in the Reef, he would have taken it in a second.
“Aren’t there other facilities you could use?” he asked curiously.
“Oh I’m sure there are,” said Ana, “I’ll stick to the Tower, but it might be worth looking into. Clovis Bray was a big company.”
“I’m sure it was.” Kaedro paused. “I’m glad you’re coming back. I mean, I wish the others were too, but… Well, I was at the Gap. We all thought you were dead for so long. If the Darkness got you, it would’ve been that much worse.”
“I remember the Gap,” said Ana, “Hopefully we’ll send them packing like we did back then.”
“Got my fingers crossed… You ready to go?”
She looked around. “I think so. It’s just hard to leave. I was trying to get here for so long and now...”
“Don’t worry, I’ll walk you out,’ said the Exo reassuringly, “...I know you’ve got your own ship… Race me back to the tower?”
Ana laughed. “You’re on!”
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Text
You don’t need frying pans for baking Part 2
Pairing: Tony x f! Reader
Words: 2052
Summary: You know what you wanna do for Tony to make him smile. He comes around unexpectedly again but this time things take a much happier course.
Warnings: None I think, maybe a bit of language again 
A/N: This is part 2 for @nerdy-bookworm-1998 ‘s challenge. My prompt was “I baked your favourite treats to apologise for hitting you with a frying pan”. Big thanks to everyone who reblogged or clicked on the little heart! I hope you enjoy part 2! Another thank you to @pandamambo5 for the help!
Again feedback and reblogs would be a dream!
After two days at the Tower your door had a new lock, just like the entrance door to the building, and the burglar had been caught. Tony had taken care of everything.
F.R.I.D.A.Y. had found the burglar within a few hours and Tony let the police know where to get him.
You were back at home and finally feeling safe again. It was Saturday so you had time and an idea of what you could do for Tony. He once –after a few drinks- told you that Jarvis used to bake some traditional English cupcakes when Tony was little and that he had loved them. At some point Tony remembered that Jarvis’ wife Ana had told him they were called butterfly cakes. You then did your research and found a traditional recipe that must have been close enough to Jarvis’ recipe. You had already made them once and for a split second you had a good idea of how Tony must have looked as a child. The excitement at his favourite baked goods from the past had been obvious in a big smile on his face.
You started baking. Making the batter and baking it was done quickly. What ate most of the time was waiting for the fine cupcakes to cool.
It took them more than an hour to have lost every bit of heat in them.
You cut a piece out of the top. Making sure it was nicely round and didn’t break. You filled each cake with a spoonful of raspberry jam and topped it with a dollop of cream. After they all were filled you cut the round tops in half and put them in the cream so that they looked like butterfly wings. A little powdered sugar on top and they were ready. You had to smile to yourself. These pretty and traditional treats would make you think of a lot of thinks but usually not of someone like Tony Stark. Five-star menu seemed more like him. But sometimes things only don’t seem to fit together until you take a closer look.
You packed the butterfly cakes into a box for transporting them and put them in the fridge. That would make them a little more stable for the journey to the Tower.
 You were just finished with getting dressed and drying your hair when you heard someone move around in your apartment. For a split second fear crept up your spine before your conscious mind told it was in the middle of the day and the burglar had been caught. This could only mean one certain guest. You then heard him call your name.
“In the bedroom!” you called while taking of your shoes again.
“Is that an invitation?” he smirked at you while coming in.
You went to him and kissed him, his arms already making their way around your waist.
“It wasn’t meant as an invitation but you know you’re always welcome”, you smiled at him, noticing that the bruise your pan had left on his temple still wasn’t completely gone.
“I didn’t wanna hear anything else.” He planted another kiss on your lips. “I actually wanted to take you out for dinner, though. We can still come back later and then you could properly invite me in.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at you which made a heartfelt laugh bubble up your throat. You loved when he was in a good enough mood to be playful and didn’t just use his humour to cover up whatever was really going on.
“Dinner?” you asked while running your hands over the ACDC print on his T-Shirt.
“Yup, isn’t that what couples do on weekends? Go out, hold hands, watch a movie and eat something together?”
“That is what couples do. At least I’ve heard so.” You thought about the treats waiting in your fridge and thought about just staying, eating cupcakes and cooking for the both of you later. That would surely be more private because when you went out with Tony there were always some people to recognise him and ask for autographs or pictures. In your apartment you definitely had him for yourself alone.
“We could do all of that here, too. You know, we can hold hands while watching a movie. I’m the proud owner of a nice TV, you know”, you suggested.
“Really a TV? Incredible. Not many people have those.”
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
“So you’d rather stay at home?”
“Yup, I just took of my shoes again because I heard you.”
“You did wanna go out”, he looked at you as if he was analysing you. “You just don’t wanna go out with me.”
“You got me. Who would wanna be seen with Tony Stark? That’s surely something you understand”, now you were the one smirking.
A dramatic gasp left him and he placed his hand on his chest, feigning offense.
After chuckling at his antics you explained what really had been your plan.
“I wanted to go to the Tower to see you because I’ve got something for you.”
You made your way out of your room and into the kitchen with Tony right behind you. You got the cupcakes and placed them on the counter as Tony stood beside you. Opening the box you turned around to him. “I baked your favourite treats to apologise for hitting you with a frying pan.” The guilt was still creeping into your voice while Tony sported a big grin.
“You don’t have to be sorry but if you’ll bake these more often if you feel like apologising to me you can hit me with a pan any time”, he gave you a quick peck and already took the first butterfly cake.
“I wouldn’t like to feel sorry all the time. Maybe I just bake them without having to hurt you?”
“That’s a good idea. I like the way you think”, he mumbled around a mouthful of the cupcake. You chuckled and shook your head.
“How about we take these with us to the sofa and get comfortable?”
“Another good idea”, he agreed and made his way to your living room. “How many do you think I can eat before it’s just weird?”
“I made them for you. Technically you could eat them all but I don’t know if that’s a good idea if you wanna eat anything else later.”
“A second one definitely isn’t too much, though”, he said while reaching into the box again.
You started searching for a movie you both hadn’t seen yet while Tony stuffed himself with a third cupcake. You were already nestled against him and his feet rested on your coffee table beside the box with the butterfly cakes.
“I wanted to take you out to talk about something”, he shuffled around beside you. You already expected him to get up and walk around like he always did when he talked about stuff that bothered him and you had the impression that something did bother him.
“Is something wrong?” you sounded more worried than you wanted to. You had no clue what could be up or what he wanted to talk about.
“I just thought about something and wanted to make you an offer.” He shoved the last bite of the third cake into his mouth and didn’t talk until he had swallowed it. Meanwhile your head was racing what offer could he make you? But before you could build any scenarios he continued.
“Wouldn’t it be easier if you’d move into the Tower?” Your thoughts came to an abrupt halt. You just looked at him. Probably a little dumbfounded.
“You’d be closer to work and there would be no risk of any burglar making his way in.” He looked at you and waited for an answer. Apparently you took too much time to reply because he started talking again.
“Of course you don’t have to and you wouldn’t have to move in with me. The Tower is big enough and has spare rooms. You could have your own apartment in there. It was just an idea. I mean you’re there every day of the week for work and on weekends you’re often there with me-“ you realised he was babbling and decided to interrupt him.
“Tony, did you wanna ask me if I would want to move in with you?”
“Yes, but-“
“I’d like that.”
“What?” he looked as if he lost his train of thought.
“I’ve thought about that a few times”, you admitted. “I like being around you and when this whole burglar bullshit was happening I already knew that I’d feel better if you were there”, you shrugged your shoulders as if that was the simplest answer. Which it wasn’t but you didn’t know what else to say or how to express how much you liked the idea of living with Tony even though he wasn’t an easy person.
“So you want to move in with me and not just into the Tower?” he was scanning you with a small frown on his face.
“Yes, that’s what I meant.”
“That’s great,” he sat up and his hands started to move through the air while he talked. “Then we need to get your stuff to the Tower. What about your furniture? Do you wanna have it stored somewhere or do wanna sell some things?” That was typical. Jumping into action rather than enjoying the moment.
“We’ll figure it out. I can start packing soon and some of my stuff can be donated. How about we do go out and celebrate the next step a little?” you were too happy to just talk about all the things you needed to do.
“We can do that. How about that Italian restaurant we’ve been to?”
“You mean the one with the Al Capone atmosphere with the amazing Pasta Vongole?”
“Yes, that one”, he nodded.
“You have to reserve a table, remember?”
He picked his sunglasses out of his jacked and put them on.
“Do I?” he asked with a cocky smirk. “How about being seen with Tony Stark now?”
He pulled you up from the sofa and kissed you. The kiss was more than you had expected. It wasn’t just a quick peck but a kiss that said more than Tony usually put in words. Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck while his hands rested on your hips. He seemed to be taking all the time in the world to slowly get to know every bit of your lips, even though you had kissed uncountable times already.
It was soft and deep and Tony still tasted of the butterfly cakes.
When he pulled back you almost had forgotten what you wanted to do. You just stood with your arms wrapped around his neck and looked at him. “You’ll have to put on shoes at least, (Y/N/N).”
“What?” there was an amused smile spreading on his face already. But before he could mock you your brain got with the game again.
“Let me just change quickly. I’ll hurry and you don’t eat more cupcakes!” you rushed to your bedroom. Of course after you told him no Tony had to eat another of his treats.
You hurried as much as you could. You threw on your favourite dress with some pumps and a light jacket. After that you applied some lipstick and added some eyeliner to the mascara you already wore. You also made quick work with your hair and were ready to go.
Tony was already waiting. He already had his leather jacket on and his hands in his pockets while looking at your bookshelf.
“You look great”, he came closer and stole another small kiss.
“Thanks, but that’s really just what I got done in ten minutes”, you smiled.
“Time’s relative”, he shrugged. “Doesn’t change that you look great.”
“Okay Einstein, thank you”, you laughed. He offered you his hand and you took it.
“Let’s go, love.”
He held your hand all the way to the car until he opened the door for you. Before getting in, you leaned in to kiss him. He just smiled and kissed you once more in return before you got into the car and he closed the door.
You both were on the same wavelength about your next step and that left a big smile on your face.
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wonderlandmind4 · 6 years
Text
Delicate Stages Drabbles: 18
Teach Them How to Say Goodbye
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC
Summary: Drabbles following Delicate Stages. Looking into the life of Bucky and Ana.
Warnings: Wow. There’s absolutely no bad language in this one. That’s the first. A little fluff. The beginning.
Words: 3,026
A/N: Hi. So. Here it is….the beginning of the end…game….(Do not read unless you’ve read Delicate Stages first)
The moment Ana and Bucky arrive at the palace, is the moment Ana is dragged away by one of the medical scientists. She knows she missed her vitals and energy level check up the other day, mainly due to nausea and the ever growing feeling of energy. Instead, she had snuggled against Bucky’s chest while he gently rubbed circles over her stomach, which lulled her to sleep.
Now, Ana keeps an eye on Bucky as he shoots an encouraging smile over his shoulder before he continues to the landing pad. Nervous trills of energy tingle throughout her veins, though Ana can’t decipher if it’s from the upcoming fight or being away from Bucky for more than two minutes. She chews her lip until her levels are recorded, nearly falling off the table in her hast to meet Bucky.
“Mrs. Barnes,” The Medical Scientist speaks up with concern, making her halt. “Your stress levels are climbing. This is not good for your body, especially in your current predicament. I would like to take an-“
“Later, please?” Ana begs, beginning to walk back. “I just need to be with my husband, is all. I feel fine, I promise.”
The usual kind man looks skeptical, but after a moment of hesitation, he nods. Ana smiles then quickly exits the lab. She barely catches the tail end of Bucky’s quip as he greets Steve with a hug. Steve, with a full-grown bread he didn’t have the last time they saw him. Ana catches the people standing just behind him and she picks up her pace, bypassing the two men and launching herself straight into Natasha’s open arms.
“Nat!” Ana cries, overjoyed with seeing her friend after a year.
“My favorite Barnes!” Natasha greets fondly, squeezing her tight.
She hears Bucky make an indigent noise behind her, before a pair of bigger arms wrap around them both.
“I guess I’m just ignored now? That’s cold, Ana.”
Ana pulls back enough to see Natasha roll her eyes, shoving Sam away from them. Ana turns to give him a proper hug, laughing into his shoulder.
“I could never ignore my favorite wing man,” She promises, tapping her fingers against his folded wings on his back before they break apart.
“It’s pretty easy, actually,” Bucky inputs, sounding much closer to her now. His tone is also fond, though he’d probably never admit that.
“He’s not giving you trouble right?” Sam questions sternly, though his eyes shine with mirth.
“No more than usual,” She winks.
Then she spots Wanda, her arm wrapped around Vision’s waist. Wanda gives her a tiny, exhausted smile as Ana makes her way over to them. She gives them each a hug, double checking if they are both alright, especially after her friend gives her the tightest, a little shaky, embrace. Bruce Banner gives her an awkward wave, making her roll her eyes and wrap her arms around him too. The energy she feels within him leaves her breathless, but she doesn’t ask about it, figuring she’ll know soon enough. Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes is next, shooting Ana a bright smile after a brief hug.
“Everyone doing alright?” She questions, worry settling in her heart. She can feel an underlying emotion of fear, dread. She eyes the advanced orthotic on Rhodes lower body.
He notices, tapping the side. “Tony made it specifically for me. Took some getting used to, but it makes me look badass.”
A bright laugh escapes Ana’s mouth, glad to see that despite his situation, the Colonel is in good spirits. Before the conversations can carry on, they are all being invited inside by T’Challa, him and the guards leading the way.
Ana can read Bucky’s energy before his fingers slip through hers. It feels, nervous. She attempts a reassuring smile towards him, then presses a quick peck to his left shoulder; vibrainum cool under her lips.
Natasha walks past them, pauses, turns and tilts her head. Her ever sharp green eyes scan Ana’s body. “Ana, are you…glowing?”
“It’s her thing now,” Bucky responds with a smirk.
She opens her mouth to answer, but a sharp surge of energy shoots up her spine. She presses her free hand to her chest, nearly doubling over before Bucky holds her firmly by the arms. She’s gasping, trying to control the strange chaos in her chest, reaching out to grip Bucky’s vest to steady herself. He instructs her to count her breaths quietly, pressing his forehead to hers so she can copy his own breathing.
“There you go, sweetheart,” He praises softly, hands rubbing up and down her arms. “Alright?”
Nodding, Ana straightens up, offering the best smile she can to her concerned husband. “Yeah, good. It’s just…stronger.”
Bucky frowns.
“Are you okay, Ana? What was that?” Natasha inquires carefully, curious wrinkle between her brows.
“I’m fine, promise.”
“Maybe you should stay-“ Bucky begins. He’s quickly cut off with a heat look from Ana. “Right. Let’s just go inside then.”
Natasha looks as if she wants to say more, but she moves pass them. Ana cups Bucky’s jaw, scratching his beard lightly before pressing her thumb to the corner of his mouth to raise his lip up. He chuckles, eyes soft as he wraps his fingers around her wrist.
“I just worry about you, Annie,” He breathes into her palm.
“I know. I worry about you too. I am worrying about you now,” She confesses. She brings his face closer to hers, pressing a light kiss to his mouth. “We should be inside. Important things to discuss.”
Bucky kisses the tip of her nose, lacing their fingers together. “Let’s go then.”
*
A plan of action has been set. Bruce had explained everything he knows and what he saw; a giant purple Titan with an alien army who thinks he is right. Bruce even tells them his hunch of where Thor might be. Shuri is doing something fancy with the Mind Stone embedded in Vision’s forehead, Wanda hovering close by, and Bruce looking on with interest. Steve is still chatting with T’Challa, some of the Dora Milaje including General Okoye and Ayo.
Ana had to step away, retreating to her work space within the lab, Bucky trailing right behind her. She fiddles with the rings on her fingers, barely containing the heavy atmosphere of emotions and nervous energy. It doesn’t add too well with the storm cloud that had been brewing for months with the apparent war for the fate of the Earth. She presses her hands over her stomach and her chest.
With every passing second, what she feels grows worse. Her veins singe like they’re burning, her heartrate is picking up. Before she can panic, a soft sense of comfort washes over her right as Bucky takes her hand. He tangles their fingers together, lifting hers to press a gentle kiss against the scars of her wrist.
Instantly, the tension eases from her shoulders. She watches as Bucky places a kiss to each of her knuckles, then he pulls her closer, softly pressing his lips over her eyebrow. Ana traces the lines of his left arm with the fingers he isn’t holding, grounding herself.
“Breathe, Annie Doll,” Bucky murmurs, lifting her chin with his metal fingers. His eyes are calm as he stares into hers; shifting like they do when he counts the gold speck. His irises the color of the unique rocks that surround the mineral spring; a cool grayish-blue. Almost as if his eyes sense the ominous clouds over them.
Nodding, she does as she’s told, inhaling and exhaling deeply. “Are you feeling alright?” She checks after a good two minutes.
Bucky narrows his eyes suspiciously. “I’m fine, darlin’. Don’t you dare think about changing anyone’s energy. Especially mine.”
He adds a good-natured poke to her nose just to make her scrunch it. She gently tugs his hair, a bit wavy now that it’s dried.
“Promise,” Ana smiles, pressing a fleeting kiss to his jaw.
“Do you just want to stay here until it’s time?” He questions somberly. Ana nods. “Here, sit down.”
“No, you sit,” Ana insists, guiding him over to one of the medical tables instead of her desk. “It’s more comfortable, and you’ll need the rest.”
“So do you,” Bucky grins, tugging her between his legs after he sits.
“I’m not an invalid, honey,” She teases.
“Not at all, just my best wife and best girl, who is-“
Ana gasps abruptly, a sense of chaotic energy pulling at her chest again. Bucky’s hands firmly hold her steady by her hips. The moment passes quickly. Twice within the spa of ten minutes.
“I’m okay,” She reassures once she sees the panic in his eyes.
“If you’re going to feel this the entire time, Ana,” Bucky begins reluctantly, “maybe you should stay in the apartment and-“
“No, absolutely not.”
“Annie-“
“James.” Ana snips, giving him a glare. Bucky’s mouths snaps shut, but the corners pull up just a tad. “You refuse to allow me to fight, even though you know I will be more protected than anyone with the rings. I won’t be on the battlefield, this is as close to you as I can get.”
“I just…I know you’re angry about it, but I can’t just let you go, not with this threat and with your-“
Ana cuts him off by sharply tugging his hair. He pouts.
“Worth a try?” He shrugs, offering her a sheepish grin. “Even with your stubbornness?”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Snowflake.”
Suddenly the teasing mood is gone as they continue to hold each other’s gazes. Ana carefully runs her fingers through Bucky’s soft hair, watches as his lashes flutter from her touch. He keeps his hands on her hips, fingers sneaking under her shirt to rub soothing circles over her navel and hipbones.
Neither of them knows how much time passes. A sense of urgency settles over the room, but they ignore it, or try to. Ana can feel the prickle of Bucky’s nerves beginning to break through; can practically hear his thoughts and worry. His fear, and she knows, it isn’t fear for himself. It’s fear of something reaching her in the Lab. All the surrounding voices fade into background noise as Ana inhales slowly.
She hugs Bucky close to her, his forehead pressed to her stomach, just between her ribs. His grip is tight, the only visible sign of anxiety coming from him. Internally, she feels different whirls of emotions with each passing second. Ana is almost sick to her stomach because she doesn’t have a good inkling about this. Between everyone in the room, the darkening threat, and Bucky trying to hold back but failing. She tightens her arm around his shoulders, the hand that was brushing his hair slips to the back of his head.
With a tiny defeated sigh Bucky releases, Ana finally gives in. She slowly morphs his energy around, hoping to at least find an ounce of courage and positivity in herself and convey it to her husband. The thing is, she is on the brink of her own anxiety attack because it just fully hit her.
Bucky is about to go off to fight another war. She knows how long he’s just wanted peace and happiness; after all the shit he has been through. He just wants to manage their little farm and play with the goats, Cat, the children, for the rest of his life, and now. Now it’s shattered. His peaceful, blissful life- their peaceful, blissful life- is shattered.
Bucky’s fingers dig into her hips as he shifts his head to peer up at her. His beautiful blue eyes narrow at her dubiously. She meets his glare, quirking an eyebrow. He straightens up, now level with her chest, snaking his hand from her hip up to her side, until his palm is resting directly over her heart.
“I told you not to do that, Annie,” Bucky murmurs, his breath causing goosebumps along her skin. “You shouldn’t be wasting your own energy.”
“Shhh, let me do this for you,” She whispers, moving her hands to cup his cheeks. “Please.”
He nods in submission, bringing his hands up to catch hers and thumbing over the rings. “Turns these on the second I leave.”
Ana goes to respond, but the same feeling she’s been getting shoots through her chest and up her spine again. It’s stronger this time. As if her body can feel them getting closer. Her stomach rolls, her body tenses, Bucky pulls her tighter to him.
“You can feel them.” Bucky states quietly.
Ana shuts her eyes, and nods.
“Buck,” Steve’s voice breaks their little bubble. “It’s time.”
They both glance over at him, a hint of guilt gleaming in Steve’s eyes. Bucky nods as Ana bites her lip. When they meet each other’s gazes once more, a split moment passes before Ana dips her head down the same time Bucky leans up. Their lips connect firmly, her fingers gripping the roots of his hair. It tastes like a goodbye and she loathes it. It feels final, and despite knowing how dangerous this fight is going to be, she refuses to see it as a farewell.
Abruptly, Bucky slides off the table, standing to his full height, never breaking their kiss. Ana just follows his lips, her hands dropping to hug around his shoulders. He presses his thumbs into the sides of her stomach as his hands pull her even closer. A soft, gentle tongue swipes across her bottom lip, opening her mouth slightly to taste him, before they break apart.
“Is this what going off to war feels like?” Ana mutters shakily against his lips. Her heart clenches.
She hears Bucky’s breath stutters in his chest. His hand comes up to cup her jaw. “This feels worse.” There’s a short pause. “Real?”
Ana huffs. “Yes. You are. Unfortunately, this situation is too.”
“I just feel you, Annie.”
The tenderness of Bucky’s voice makes tears sting in her eyes. She swallows the thickening lump forming in her throat. She squeezes his shoulders, hoping he can carry the weight of her fingers with him.
“Always feel you,” Ana murmurs back.
“Guys, I’m so sorry, but we gotta get moving,” A reluctant Steve urges.
“One more minute,” Bucky replies, keeping his eyes locked on Ana’s.
She sees them shift back and forth, and she know he’s counting the dots again. Ana moves her hands, holding his face between them.
“You be careful, Snowflake,” She commands lowly. “I mean, it. Run if you need to. I’m safe here, don’t get distracted,” She kisses him briefly. “You come back to me. Got it?”
“I swear to you,” Bucky tells her with such conviction, she has no doubt. “I love you.”
Ana blinks, her vision beginning to blur with tears. “I love you, Bucky.”
They share another tender kiss, then Bucky steps away from her; his eyes look like it pains him to do so. His fingers trail down her jaw, her neck, over her pounding heart, down her stomach and hip. He takes her hand, squeezes three times, and then he’s turning, walking towards the landing dock.
Ana turns her back, not being able to watch him go; because she can’t. She’s ready to help Shuri with Vision in any way she can, but Steve is standing in her way. She opens her mouth to say something, but the gentle yet amused look in his eye halts her. She frowns, until he nods his head up.
Before she can fully turn, strong arms wrap around her, and a searing kiss is pressed firmly against her mouth. Bucky dips her back, fully supporting her weight in his strong arms. Ana can’t help but smile at his dramatics, though it makes her heart flutter and her stomach curl with heat. She grips his shoulders, fingers digging into flesh and metal and cloth.
“You’re ridiculous,” She chuckles against his mouth.
Bucky hums, slowly straightening them again. “For you, doll face. Always for you.”
Then he’s leaving again, but he’s throwing a wink over his shoulder. Ana smiles brightly until he turns his face forward, then her smile drops, as does her heart. She really doesn’t have a good feeling, and with each passing minute, the energy surrounding them grows worse.
She feels a firm, comforting hand squeezing her shoulder. It’s a brief gesture, a silent goodbye as Steve moves to walk past her. Suddenly, she jerks her hand out, grabbing his hand and halting his steps. Her eyes are still on Bucky’s retreating back.
“Steve,” Ana whispers, trying to tamper the quiver in her voice. Her eyes slide over to his stoic face. “Bring my husband back to me.”
Steve faces her, gripping her hand tight. “I swear to you, I will.”
Then he pulls her into a hug, and she hasn’t had someone who has felt like a brother in so long, but Steve has become just that. Her brother. And it’s not just her husband that’s walking off to fight against these aliens, to save the world. It’s her entire family.
It’s Steve who had became her rock for ten, long lonely and heartbreaking months. It’s Sam and Natasha. It’s Bruce who she hasn’t seen in nearly two years. It’s T’Challa and Okoye and M’Baku, people who have accepted her and Bucky into their humble home. It’s Wanda, who was forced to grow up so fast, and is now still fighting to protect the one she loves.
 It’s Vision willingness to sacrifice himself if the time comes. It’s Shuri who is doing everything in her power to help him. It’s Tony, who she hasn’t heard from, but she knows. Part of the feeling she has, is because he’s out there putting his life on the line.
They all are.
“Stay safe, Steve,” Ana tells him against the patch with the missing star on his suit.
“You too,” He responds lowly.
Steve releases her then, sharing one last look before he follows after Bucky.
Ana inhales deeply, pressing her hand to chest as if she can feel Bucky’s heartbeat within her. Then, she turns to assist Shuri, ignoring the prickling of energy warning her.
*******************************************************************
Drabbles: Seventeen    Drabbles: Nineteen
Tags: @thecreatiivecorner @kat-lives @stressedasalways @watchoutforfrostbite @justreadingfics @keldachick @fics-i-read
A/N: I am possibly taking a short hiatus for the rest of march. I suddenly lost a co-worker, someone I became quick friends with. My mom is have a major surgery in two weeks as well. So, March will be a tough time. Please be patient with me as I update these Drabbles and my other fics. Thank you guys for being amazing and reading my stuff <3 <3 <3
35 notes · View notes
ghostlykay · 5 years
Text
mors certa, incerta vita.
  ➢.  CHAPTER 2.
Morning rose too soon for her liking. Bleary eyes blinked the remnants of sleep away as she woke. Hands find purchase on the nearest box, quickly pulling herself up to a yawning stance. She hadn’t slept well. Not last night, or really, in awhile. Too much mystery swirled around this place. So much so, in fact, she’d sworn she’d even dreamed of it. Nothing lasting stood in the forefront of her mind, but she knew she had dreamed something of this forgotten home. Regardless, the day didn’t wait for idle day dreams. Neither could she. 
Minutes trickled into hours as she worked. Boxes were unpacked. Trash was tossed. Shelves, tables, counters, and the like were dusted. The mop had been abused to the point of turning to a shredded knot. It was thankless work, but truly, Ailana was happy to have her hands busy. There was something satisfying to it all. As every inch of counter space was cleaned, it felt like this barren hole was an inch closer to being hers. Feet carried her up to the cramped second story soon after. The stairs themselves were an obstacle she'd tackle another day, but the three rooms above? They'd take priority. After all, where was she to put her belongings if the place was still a disheveled disaster when they all arrived?
The first room on the right was the most derelict. Once her nursery, she assumed, now stood a haphazard mess of a room with collapsed, pale shelves and a smashed toy chest. Once, dazzling gold trim and pretty pink must have dressed the space, giving it a doll-like brilliance. Now, the faded atmosphere left a chilling sense of loneliness. Ailana's lips turned to a frown, silent fingertips searching for a nearby switch. Even that proved fruitless, however, because as she flipped the lever, no light greeted her.
                                                            Drats.                              
Brow furrowing, she trudged on. Bay windows, shrouded just-so with sun-bleached curtains, were the only minimal light source. Throwing them open, she was quickly welcomed by a plume of dust and bad choices. Coughing, she managed to glance through watery eyes the new, thicker veil of dust that floated about the area.
                        Wonderful, she mused, just wonderful.
      Blank eyes bore holes through smudged glass. Autumn had whipped through the streets, leaving behind a chilling trail of crisp leaves. Her home had stood in the forefront of his mind since movement had caught his eye. Empty. It always stood so empty, barren, a shell of a memory discarded and left just like the little girl it housed years ago did. Disgusting children would offer it an occasional glance, some insolent remark tarnishing the ghost of that  pleasant past before they hurried by.
                                          That girl.
                                                That house.
      Michael Myers stood solemnly against the brisk wind, unfazed by its biting edge. A girl spared him a glance. With her dripping smile, she'd voiced a simpering compliment before sauntering on. Her touch raked through the air with perfumed repulsion. Like a hog boasting its fat, she swayed her body as if it were a prize----a prize to be cut, gutted, harvested.
                                    A prize to kill, they screamed!
      Fingers twitched in anticipation. Blonde hair. Deep, hazel eyes. Average height. Thick, bloated---proud of her thick thighs, her full chest, her heaving figure.
      He'd remember. He always did. They whispered, and shrieked, and reminded every niggling detail: a hunt so easily pursued.
                                    Gut her! Kill her!
      Michael glanced back at the open window. There had been a retreating shadow in that room. No face. No sign. Someone, someone was trespassing. As the passing girl had encroached upon him, his space, something dared to defile there, a time before these hissing wails.
                                                      Her room.
      He'd return. He'd end the loathsome little shit that defiled that good memory, but only after he removed the whore's piggish presence, the one whose dripping tones echoed haunting taunts in his head.
The scrubbing never stopped. From the moment the dust settled from her enthusiastic toss, Ailana worked hard. There was nothing to be done about the carpet; she'd have to have some professional tend to that. For the rest, she found she was more than capable. Baseboards were wiped, curtains were ripped off and tossed, and the prickly remains of debris were slowly picked at. A few toys remained, despite the chest's shattered state. Her touch traveled along the splintered pieces, eyeing the entire mess with mild curiosity. How on Earth did something break like that? The whole thing looked as if it'd been kicked clean through. Yet, she couldn't fathom who'd break down a child's toy box. Her father, for what little she'd heard of him, wasn't a bad man. He was simply.....Well, as her mother described, "not ready to take on responsibility!"
He was by no means an angry sort. On the rare occasion her mother indulged in Chardonnay, she'd go off on how much of a coward he was. Mom had a certain way of getting a little more on the expressive side when tipsy. Tears, bubbly laughs, beaming grins, and even blubbering breakdowns were what usually ended their weekly "Girl's Night In". Surprisingly enough, rocking one's mother while she sobbed didn't leave a good feeling behind.
Still, she was hit by a sudden pang in her heart. For all her flaws, her emotions, and her hysterics, she'd miss her mom. Ailana felt her absence. This was the first time she could recall tackling anything on her own. Mom had a fit every time she even attempted to pick up a sponge when she was close. Oh, how she'd have her head if Ana suggested running an errand alone. Leaning back, she pressed herself against the door frame, letting the cool surface chill heated skin.
"Don't you go out on your own. You never know who you're going to bump into. And, honey, you have to remember your health. It's rather chilly, don't you think? What if you bump into the wrong sort'a folk? Please, be safe! Don't go that way, just.....well, just wait for me, okay? I'll be right there for you, Ana, always---"
                           "----and forever," Ailana would finish silently.
But. Here she was. For the first time in her life, she was truly that: by herself. Others would see it as sad. Hell, she wouldn't even blame them. Really, 21 years old and what did she have to show for it? A few pen pals? One on-and-off again boyfriend? A meager bachelors in statistics? Enough medication to run her own damn self-made pharmacy? And, now, the one person closest to her was gone in a freak car accident? 
                           Life seemed to love its cruel jokes.
Still, there was too much to do to be wallowing in self-pity. There were too many answers to search for, too many questions she'd yet to even consider. So, though tears stung her eyes, she pulled herself away wary musings. She'd push forward. She always did.
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comicteaparty · 5 years
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May 20th-May 26th, 2019 CTP Archive
The archive for the Comic Tea Party week long chat that occurred from May 20th, 2019 to May 26th, 2019.  The chat focused on Soul’s Journey by Sophie Pfrötzschner.
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RebelVampire
COMIC TEA PARTY- WEEK LONG BOOK CLUB START!
Hello and welcome everyone to Comic Tea Party’s Week Long Book Club~! This week we’ll be focusing on Soul’s Journey by Sophie Pfrötzschner~! (https://soulsjourney.gerritianchronicles.com/)
You are free to read and comment about the comic all week at your own pace, so stop on by whenever it suits your schedule! Remember, though, that while we allow constructive criticism, our focus is to have fun and appreciate the comic. Below you will find four questions to get you started on the discussion. However, a new question will be posted and pinned everyday (between 12:01AM and 6AM PDT), so keep checking back for more! You have until May 26th to tell us all your wonderful thoughts! With that established, let’s get going on the reading and the chatting!
QUESTION 1. What has been your favorite scene in the comic so far? What specifically did you like about it?
QUESTION 2. How do you feel about Anrak’s decision to flee from his arranged marriage? What do you think Anrak intended to do overall with the feat? Also, do you think there is anything else in the letter he left that might reveal more information?
AshAngelV
Favorite scenes are so hard to chose. 2. I think it's understandable, but I also don't think he intended to just run away. I think he meant to look for another solution to the problem. And there may be. We've also not seen what was in the letter he addressed to his father.
keii4ii
^ Yeah, I don't think he ran away to live out the rest of his life hiding in the wilderness. That said, I also don't think he had a solid plan on finding another solution. Maybe he thought about starting by investigating those destroyed villages near the borders?
AshAngelV
That would be a bad idea. He could get killed trying.
keii4ii
I can see him being like "oh I'll be careful"
RebelVampire
QUESTION 3. At the moment, who is your favorite character? What about that character earns them this favor?
QUESTION 4. What do you think will happen to Anrak once he reaches the Kiroja mountains? Will he and Kanar be able to undo the binding? If so, how will it happen? Is Anrak in danger from this in some way do you think, or will it be a smooth process?
AshAngelV
3. Probably Namide. She's kind, and selfless, as well as being cute and cuddly. I also really like Anastasia, though we don't see much of her. She's smart, grounded, and has more than a little fire.(edited)
4. I'm not sure how it'll go, but it will most definitely not be smooth. Clearly there are sinister forces at work, but it's hard to say what their goal is or even who they're allied with.
RebelVampire
QUESTION 5. What has been your favorite illustration in the comic so far? What specifically about it do you like?
QUESTION 6. What do you think Vivianne is attempting to accomplish by teaming up with Itami? Also, why do you think she approached Ana, and what role might Ana have to play in dealing with whatever Vivianne is planning?
AshAngelV
5. I really like the transformation pages with all the glowy magics. 6. I think she wants out of this arrangement as much as Anrak does. And I think her reasons for approaching Ana are mostly what she said: she's looking for allies and the fact that Ana isn't from this country gives her a unique perspective, though her motives might be more sinister than typical courtly drama. Ana's smart, I don't think she'll let anything slip like Vivi might hope and she's observant enough to pick up on things Vivi might wish she missed.(edited)
RebelVampire
1) My favorite scene is now that scene where Anrak and Sincato have a heart to heart. For me this really took what had been established for the characters and kind of flipped it on its head. You've got Anrak who is accepting help and admitting he needs it, then you've got Sincato who for once is kind of slightly chill even if hes being Sincato about it. This was a scene that really changed my perspective on the characters, and I have to appreciate that. 2) Honestly I think Anrak just wanted to embrace the last vestiges of freedom. I don't think he intended to run away forever, but to just try and find some alternative or at least find some way to feel less like a marriageable pawn. Granted, I do agree with the other characters it might not have been the best time. As for the letter, I do think there is stuff we haven't seen yet. But more in the ways of we don't have the full context of what was exactly written. And the way the characters' read it isn't the way Anrak meant it.
3) Jack cause Jack is getting all the short sticks right now. Plus I feel like Jack is the only person in this story so far who doesn't have some hidden motivation. He just honestly wants to find Anrak, help the country, and go home to his wife where he can be happy and have a family. 4) Bad stuff. I actually think they'll get there only to find out that Kanar doesn't know wtf she's doing and the unbinding isn't as straight forward as she wishes. Cause I get the vibe that Kanar is overconfident. Thus, Anrak will despair cause it will seem like his quest is in vain, but they'll have to do the spiritual side quest first. I do feel like Kanar isn't telling Anrak about the process. Like maybe it'll kill him cause what does she care if Anrak lives or dies XD
RebelVampire
5) Gotta go with this page for fave illustration http://soulsjourney.gerritianchronicles.com/comic/159 that top panel just is so utterly atmospheric and it gives me chills while at the time making me fearful for anrak's safety. It's got that beautiful one two punch that really just adds a mood to the story. 6) Honestly, at this point I get the impression that Vivianne has been sent by her country not to marry Anrak but to assassinate him. But Vivianne is like "eww i dun wanna and i dont think i can" so she teamed up with itami so itami can do her dirty work. I think the reason she approached Ana is partly cause she's using Ana to improve her position in court but also for the reason she said: shes a stranger in a new country and would like someone to talk to about that. cause even if she is evil, that's gotta be lonely.
RebelVampire
QUESTION 7. Which characters do you enjoy seeing interact the most? What about their dynamic interests you?
QUESTION 8. Whose side do you think Itami is actually on in regards to the current people in the story? What is Itami’s ultimate goal, and who do you think might get the most hurt by those goals?
AshAngelV
7. Ana and Jack because they're cute, have great chemistry, and are the only thing going right in this comic world. Everything else is going to pot. 8. I think Itami is on his own side or in league with Kanar. I expect Anrak will be hurt the most by them.
keii4ii
7. I really liked the earlier scene of Anrak and Jack interacting. They know they can be honest with each other, and they genuinely want to have each other's back, even amidst multiple (sometimes conflicting) priorities. There's almost a mentor/mentee-like aspect to their relationship. I appreciate seeing that. Not every positive close-range relationship has to be 100.0% equal! In this case, the (slight) imbalance doesn't hurt their bond. It just is.
RebelVampire
7) Probably Anrak and Kanar. Kanar is kind of the most immediate threat to Anrak imo, so it always makes any of their interactions extremely tense. It's hard to really make a call one way or another on whether Kanar even likes Anrak enough to not screw him over. But I liked this on edge feeling cause it's just so different than any other relationship in the comic. 8) Itemi is on Itami's side. I strongly believe that Itami is both out to get a real human body and then get vengence on just basically the entire world. So while everyone thinks nah, Itami is on my side, nope. Itami is just lying in wait to stab everyone in the back and everyone is gonna gasp in surprise.
AshAngelV
I must be the only one that likes warm fuzzies.
Desnik
what are you talking about, warm fuzzies are great
AshAngelV
Lol Just commenting on Rebel's talking about the Anrak/Kanar tension being cool and I'm all Ana/Jack are so cute and I love them.
Desnik
haha, just being randomly supportive!
AshAngelV
Yay fellow warm fuzzy lover.
RebelVampire
QUESTION 9. What sorts of art or story details have you noticed in the way the comic is crafted that you think deserves attention?
QUESTION 10. What is your personal interpretation of Kanar’s past given the flashback? Do you think she’s really going to help Anrak, or will she betray him at the end? What do you think she’ll do once free?
RebelVampire
QUESTION 11. What do you think are this particular comic’s strengths? What do you think makes this comic unique? Please elaborate.
QUESTION 12. What do you see happening in regards to Sincato and Namide’s roles in the story, especially when it comes to helping Anrak? What about Jack? How might he help or hurt Anrak in his quest?
RebelVampire
9) ive really enjoyed the work done on the backgrounds. theres no shyness away from it and every scene feels decently filled and like the characters are actually in the world. gotta appreciate good backgrounds <3 10) Kanar was in love, her lover died, she tried to resurrect him, whoops now they have no human forms. I 100% think Kanar is gonna betray Anrak. I do not believe she gives a single damn about whether Anrak lives or dies. The only reason shes helping is she doesn't want to be dead herself. As for once she's free, probably try to bring her dead lover back again and make things 1000% times worse. 11) i think this comic's strength is probably the sort of gray character writing. like theres no character i think is 100% evil. but even the "good" guys like anrak are going around making some hard to forgive mistakes. and i like that sort of thing. really i like the entire premise of this comic is kind of that a character screwed up big time. it adds the right amount of imperfection to human portrayal. 12) I feel theyre gonna help him get to the mountains all the way and ya know, make sure he doesnt die. I think along the way Sincato and Anrak will bond though past all odds and come to a mutual understanding as they both care about namide. As for Jack, I feel like he's gonna figure out Anrak is the wolf and help him at some point. IDK how, but they keep bumping into each other enough it'll keep happening. And I think he'll help Anrak for sure...if only as an extortion to get Anrak to come back and not let their country fall to war.
keii4ii
^ Yeah! I'm also super looking forward to what will happen with/between Sincato and Anrak. I really like Sincato; not everyone can be a Namide, and someone's gotta keep the priorities straight for the whole group. Not saying he's perfect (I agree with Rebel that this comic has good grey writing), but he seems like someone Anrak at this point in time could learn from.
RebelVampire
QUESTION 13. What are you most looking forward to in the comic? Also, do you have any final thoughts to share overall?
QUESTION 14. At the end, do you think Anrak will regain his human form? If he does so, will he be able to stop the looming war? What will it take to prevent the war if so?
RebelVampire
13) Jack and Anrak reuniting in the sense Jack knows it's Anrak, regardless of the circumstances. That's gonna be some tense, A+ drama right there, and I really just want to see how Jack is gonna deal with everything that's going on with Anrak. 14) Yes I do think Anrak will regain his human form eventually after a lot of trials and tribulations and probably betrayals. As for the war, I think he'll stop it more indirectly than directly. cause i think even if he married vivianne, that wouldnt do crap. and i think somehow the supernatural junk that happens during his journey will weed out a surprise catalyst for the war that anrak's quest will remove from the picture.
RebelVampire
COMIC TEA PARTY- WEEK LONG BOOK CLUB END!
Thank you everyone so much for reading and chatting about Soul’s Journey this week! Please also give a special thank you to Sophie Pfrötzschner for volunteering the comic and creating it! If you liked Soul’s Journey, make sure to continue to support it via some of the links below!
Read and Comment: https://soulsjourney.gerritianchronicles.com/
Sophie’s Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/sophiepf
Sophie’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/sophiepf_
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fieryfafarfanfics · 6 years
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Haunted Desire
 “He still doesn’t want to eat?”  A frown curled the corners of her lips. “No.” Arms crossed against her chest, Evelyn looked at her husband. “When I kept asking him if he wanted anything for breakfast, he just faintly mumbled Hana’s name.”  Harun only nipped the insides of his lower lip. “But Hana has school.” Standing beside his plump wife, dark brown eyes observed the silent child in the kitchen. “And to be honest, I thought that bringing him into our home would at least help the kid from crying so much back in the adoption center.” Left shoulder leaned against the wall, he released another sigh. “Turns out it’s not working, huh?”  “At least he’s not screaming anymore.” Pink lips twitching a weak smile at the faint ray of hope, she too let out a woeful sigh. “Jun said that he’s not possessed by any Jahanams anymore, but that doesn’t stop the poor boy from remembering all that trauma he’s gone through.”  “If we leave him out of our sights any more than a minute,” Strong arms flinched against his chest, “I’m just afraid he might actually conjure a Jahanam himself.”  Even with a gentle swat on the left arm, Harun only flashed a bitter smile.
 Before Evelyn could rebut his blatant statement, the sound of the doorbell caught their attention. “Must be Jun.” Pushing herself off the wall, the plump woman gave one last pitiful look at the broken boy. “Maybe we can ask Jun and Ariff if they have any other ideas to help him.”  “Good idea.” Before she left to get the door, Harun sneaked a kiss to the top of her head. Finally, after such a gloomy atmosphere in the morning, the tall man felt his heart bloom to see such a sweet smile on her face.  But alas, once his gaze returned to the boy, that tiny garden in his heart withered in worry. ---  He wondered why he was alive.  His stomach had growled and trembled for the fifth time today. The food in front of him was placed deliciously on the table, yet Imran didn’t have the will nor desire to consume even the slightest. Cold hands remained limp on scarred thighs. Slim fingers twitched and flinched at every sudden memory. His heart felt weak. His breathing felt weaker. The bags under his eyes became puffier each day. The veins in his eyeballs became more vivid and disgusting. Pale mouth was pressed to a single line. The obvious cracks on his lips gained a cringe from the boy every time cool air swiped across them.  He needed her.  He needed to see her. He needed to be with her. The whole night being left alone felt like hell on earth. He couldn’t sleep a wink. He couldn’t breathe properly. Screams and cries of the night before tore his throat until he couldn’t utter a single word. Even a tiny drop of saliva that slid down felt like fire scorching his throat. All he could manage right now was emptily staring at the food as if it was a pile of black glob. All he could manage right now was the chant of her name in his mind.  He needed her.  He needed to be by her side. He needed to hold her hand to know she existed.  He couldn’t do this.  Broken, yellow teeth chattered weakly as he lowered his head. He couldn’t do this, his heart wailed. Widened eyes burned as no tears were present. Dark pupils shrunk horribly as he stared at nothing. Hazy gaze focused on the scars and bruises on the back of his hands. Some were already faint and dark. Some were still wet and fresh. Dull, broken nails shakily dug deep into his thighs.  He then saw blood stuck inside the nail of his right thumb.  Breathing started to become raspy. Chapped lips finally spread apart until blood dripped from the corners.  -elp- He didn’t want to be alive. He—H-Help-! He didn’t want to continue this torture.  Fingers curled tightly until nails once again pierced deep into bloody palms, Imran slowly, roughly bit the insides of his torn mouth. NO—!  “I’m heeeere!”  His world stopped spinning. ---  “Here you go Auntie Evelyn!” Bouncing by the balls of her feet, Hana gave the plastic container to the lady. “Mak made lots of chicken curry and I’m soooo fuuulll!” Whining like the child that she was, Hana wrapped her stomach with small, chubby arms and shook left and right.  Evelyn only laughed cheerfully at the little girl’s bubbly personality. “Thank you, sweetie.” Hazel eyes then focused to the woman beside the child. “And thanks a lot, Jun.” Hands holding the container, she lifted it slightly and nodded her head. “I’m sure Harun would love these.”  “I know he would.” Her lips returning her smile, Junaidah peeked at the kitchen. “How’s the boy?”  To hear the question, Evelyn could feel her smile wither immediately.  “Well…” Right hand holding the container, she nervously rubbed her arm with her left hand. “He didn’t scream last night, so you can call that improvement.” Even so, a sigh slipped out pink lips. “I wish I can say about the rest.” Her frown matched Junaidah’s that was slowly forming.  “What do you mean?” Concern etched her question. Though glad that her child was happily looking at them with curious, confused eyes, Junaidah flinched slightly to the Nur mark on the back of her neck throbbing so numbly.  Upon seeing such a cautious gaze on the Pendekar, Evelyn quickly waved her left hand. “H-He’s not being possessed if that’s what you think!” Panic widened a pair of hazel eyes. Blonde hair whipping lightly from the quick shake of her head, the Penjaga nervously continued, “It’s just…he hasn’t eaten at all in the past few days. And although he drank some water yesterday, he’s not drinking now and I’m just afraid this might affect his health.”  Evelyn was at least thankful to feel Junaidah calming down.  “I see…” Right fingers no longer twitching, Junaidah huffed a heavy sigh. “I’m glad, but I guess that’s still a prob-”  CRASH!  “HEY KID—WAIT!!”  Both ladies and the little girl jumped from the startling sounds. Three sets of eyes stared at the kitchen, only to then gawk in shock at the sight of the frail, skinny boy.  “W-What…?” Junaidah gaped like a fool.  “Im—Imran?” Evelyn slid backwards in bafflement.  “Imran!” Only Hana reacted with much positive bliss. “There you are!” Her left hand, which had been clutching her mother’s long skirt for the past few minutes, was immediately released after seeing the boy. “Imran, my mak brought you food!” Neither caring about her life nor safety, the little girl quickly approached the boy with quick steps.  To see her daughter running towards the lifeless boy sent a terrifying chill down Junaidah’s spine.  “Hana WAIT!” Voice cracked a pitch, in a blink she instantly summoned her Nur weapon. A brilliant shine of pure white was formed in her right hand, and not a second later, a beaming parang shined viciously in her grasp.  Upon hearing her mother’s scream, Hana stopped immediately. Her body almost stumbled forward from the abrupt halt, the little girl then turned to her mother with a frown on her face. “Mak, what’s-?”  “KID STOP-!”  Innocently deep brown eyes widened to see such horror sketched on her mother’s face.  “HA-ANA!!”  Screams now echoed inside the house, her ears then caught the sound of rapid, approaching footsteps. Her heartbeat drumming violently inside her small chest, Hana quickly spun her heel to the direction of the footsteps.  Plop!  A short scream popped out of the little girl’s mouth once she felt something pounced on her.  Everything happened too fast.  Before Imran was inches away from Hana, Harun was already a single step away from pulling the boy back. Before the sudden impact, Evelyn had already fused with the mythical parang. Before her scream was heard, Junaidah had raised her weapon and rocketed madly at her precious daughter.  Thankfully, before the Pendekar Nur could slice the poor boy’s head in half, she instead froze right in front of the two children.  Her daughter wasn’t harmed. No scars were seen. No bruises appeared. She wasn’t screaming in pain. Hell, she wasn’t screaming at all. Instead, it was now replaced with silent bafflement from any of them.  Two adults stood as they watched the boy shiver horribly, terribly, magnificently whilst having a stunned little girl in his frail, littler arms.  “—a…n-na…”  The word was merely a dying, brittle whimper that even wind alone could drown it out.  “…n…a…” Again the voice – his voice – croaked weakly on her shoulder. “Ha-Ha-a-a…na—” A hiccup was heard next, along with a cough that sounded too thick to be normal.  Junaidah only stood in blank stupor, hands now lowered limply until her weapon burst back to white light. Evelyn formed back to her physical figure, brown eyes just as wide and frozen at the sight before them.  Three grown adults were at lost. Heavily cautious and alert at all times, but lost in bewilderment at the sudden event. Only Hana regained reality fast, deep brown eyes blinking innocently before she glanced at the shivering mess against her.  His voice was too faint, too broken. Tears formed her eyes to hear her name being slurred so painfully. So thickly. Pink lips parted open, but words were void as Hana then heard louder, clearer sobs that now stained her clothed shoulder.  Don’t go… That word echoed loudly in his mind. Don’t—Please d—on’t…go… Dark eyes were wide, too wide. Tears were thick on each heavy socket. Pale cheeks finally brought a hint of colour. Dry lips finally felt wet at the drip of endless tears. His trembling still occurred from head to toe. He felt cold, too cold, and the little girl in his arms was warmth he so desperately needed—  He felt something wrapped around him.  For once, he didn’t flinch nor feel the need to struggle.  “Hi Imran…”  Her voice. Her voice was all he needed to regain sanity back to this earth.  Finally his voice was heard. Finally a wail cracked the intense atmosphere in the room. His body still shivered. His muscles still strained and twisted. Blood now dripped slightly from the corner of his lips, but pain was now irrelevant from his consciousness once he felt her gentle embrace.  For once, he felt warm.  Again and again he cried, head now buried in her shoulder. Again and again Hana returned his tears, small hands giving countless pats to the boy’s horribly bruised back.  Junaidah, Evelyn, and Harun only watched the emotional unfold around them. Words were absent. Only stupefied stares and exchanged glances became their form of communication.  After what felt like hours, the Pendekar Nur released a heavy sigh. Upon feeling her concern, Evelyn looked to her direction.  Their eyes met along with their tiny frowns. Even without words, they knew, this chance of fate between the kids would evidently change their lives forever. The sound of the boy’s crying ironically brought comfort to Evelyn and Harun, but they both ruefully knew that they needed to do something to prevent him from festering any evil quintessence from within.  And as sounds of Hana’s tiny sobs echoed along, all three of them knew – oh Junaidah bitterly, bitterly knew – if they weren’t careful, this would mean the end of both the children’s lives. END
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darringauthier · 7 years
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Werewolf: The Beast Among Us (2012)
Genre: Horror
Who’s in it: Ed Quinn, Guy Wilson, Stephen Rea, Rachel Dipillo, Adam Croasdell, Ana Ularu, Steven Bauer, Nia Peeples
Who directed it: Louis Morneau
Plot:  Set in a 19th century village, a young man studying under a local doctor joins a team of hunters on the trail of a wolf-like creature.
Running time: 93 minutes 
IMDB Score: 5.1
Why I watched it: Another one I blame Netflix for, that and the cast is pretty good for this material.
Thoughts: Sometimes when you watch Made for DVD movies you seen names that were once big and it does make me a little bit sad, seeing Stephen Rea and Steven Bauer playing secondary roles in a low budget werewolfe movie is tough, Bauer is even wearing an eye patch and furry chaps, don’t ask.
What I liked: Louis Morneau is a solid B-Movie director and has made some I’ve even liked, yes I liked Bats, so the film is fine tech wise, it’s filmed well it can’t hide it’s budget but the film does have atmosphere and it does feel like a very low budget monster movie.
Th cast is a mixed bag but this is the section for positive talk so I’ll point to Ed Quinn, I like him as an actor and he’s the best part of the film, his character is cool and I kind of wish it was just him and not a team of hunters cause he worked.
The werewolf effects are fine not great but I’ve seen worse and I also liked that they tried to play with the legend a bit and made the werewolf into a super werewolf that could control his turns so making it a mystery of who the werewolf is was decent and there was a clever twist.
What I didn’t like: The main fault with the film is the secondary acting and Guy Wilson as the lead, I guess, he was pretty bad.  He couldn’t carry the film and they made a huge mistake making it about him and not Ed Quinn’s hunter character who was a lot more interesting.  The sub-plots in this movie were bad, cliched and not well thought out or filmed really.  They tried a young lovers sub-plot, the doctor had one, you could go on and on and they added up to filler and really hurt the momentum of the film.  Even though I liked the twist of who the werewolf was and the idea behind it the execution and the acting didn’t hold up their end. There was also too many useless characters in this as well for a movie that was just over 90 minutes there was too many loose ends and stuff that felt jammed in.
Final thoughts: It’s a watchable made for DVD film, it add it’s moments but it does look a bit cheap and the acting let the film down.
Rating: 4/10
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overgosh · 7 years
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Make Overwatch Happier
This is just a list of my solo quick play experience through the levels - honestly, the best experiences in Overwatch are shared with friends and players who you like and trust online. But if you don’t have those, store bought is fine!
... In all seriousness, I play a lot with 5 other randos and have found a few things that help me survive the occasional complete ding dong and/or team of ding dongs. (I’m writing this up as a spur of the moment thing while reflecting on my playtime today, so it’s, uh, not a Lifehacks guide or anything.... Just off the dome and for my own reference for when things aren’t as happy).
What are YOUR strategies for making your pick up groups successful and your playtime happy?
1. That handy “Hello!” emote. Especially if you’re looking directly at one of your teammates in spawn, a round of Hellos is a lot better than the initial distrust and bitterness elicited by “Can we get a tank/healer/not both snipers on attack?”
2. When asking for other roles, adding context can be helpful and make people feel like they’re being a stronger player rather than being nagged into changing roles. “We’ve got a Reaper and Genji - we wanna do Zarya or Ana for sweet wombo combo?” Or: “x player on the other team tends to play Pharah, may be good to have a hitscan on the team” Or: “I’m not sure I can solo heal this, would someone mind joining me?”, etc. It’s not a command, especially not in comp where people are just out to relax and hate being told what to do. If you’re in one of those relaxed modes, expect “it’s QP,” and move on.
3. Accept that even if you lose, you’re getting valuable practice. Sometimes, you just get outplayed. Whether your team is all having a bad day, the matchmaking system is out of whack, or someone’s throwing (hilarious!), big losses happen. The good news: the game will reward you with EXP, steamrolls mean that the games are over quicker, and hey, if your entire crummy team folds the chances are they’ll all disband from the current server and move along.
4. For spam, abuse, and annoying players: Block, block, block! Fast and hard. Don’t give them the satisfaction of repartee with you (that’s what they want). Reading the stuff takes time away from playing, and even if you’re not upset about these obnoxious comments, you’re spending time thinking about it - and therefore, not playing the game 100%. I know a lot of people can just ignore this stuff, but if it’s in my line of sight I can tilt pretty easily because I just get distracted and then annoyed that I’m distracted. BLOCK! THEM! DO IT!
4.5. When in doubt, trust your gut. If someone says something to make you uncomfortable, use your best judgment whether you can look at their name/comments and continue to do your best. There have been times in game where I’ve been on pins and needles trying to anticipate when someone’s weird racist humor would pop up, but because they were doing call outs I didn’t mute them right away - that was a mistake. Being in a good head space would have saved me a lot of stress, and I would have done better in the game. My personal preference is to use my voice - basically let my teammates know I’m not okay with the situation at hand, and then block. I want to make sure other folks on the same page as me don’t feel alone, and that the offending players don’t feel as though everyone’s okay with what they’re saying. Usually it’s as simple as “I’m really not cool with that/that’s not a cool thing to say/etc” and then a block (I really don’t need to see their response), or something standard and non-inflammatory (remember, baiting bullies isn’t worth it).
5. Communication! If you’re not a fan of voice chat like me, even simple callouts via text are better than nothing. Giving your team a heads-up to maximize their abilities and let them avoid danger means that they’ll actually care. A quick “Torb, genji in back”, “soldier, ready for boost when you are” or “heads up, bridge health pack hacked” can be really helpful, even through text (if you can manage it). Voice is naturally better, in that you can plan very acutely and give quick callouts, but effort is appreciated if you don’t want to do the chat thing.
6. COMPLIMENTS! Here’s the thing: everyone likes compliments. The general pattern and rule of thumb with this bullet point list is to basically turn neutral comments and requests into positives - things that other people like to hear. Compliments are like freebies - they’re not hard to type out, they’re easy to think of, and they leave an impression. I ALWAYS thank my healers at the end of the match, and anyone who did a particularly outstanding job or worked well as a team. Complimenting the unsung heroes is also incredibly important - be kind to your competent Sombras (they don’t get enough love) your non-POTG heroes, and so on. 
7. COMPLIMENT YOUR ENEMIES! And furthermore, be kind to the enemy team! Did you just get wiped in a quintuple kill? “Great deadeye, McCree!” Get sniped while flying at high speeds through the air? “Nice shot, Widow, holy cow!” Sayin’ stuff while waiting to spawn isn’t taking up any of your valuable “being dead” time. I love, love, love, when at the end of a match everyone pops out of “gg” mode to exclaim how good it was - usually in the form of “crazy match” “that was insane” “that overtime tho”. 
8. Keep it lighthearted.  A friendly, funny competitive atmosphere is a lot more comfortable to play in than a tense, humorless one - so turn a “fuck you, mccree” into “dang, cowboy”. I once complimented a Sombra for keeping the Temple of Anubis bridge health pack hacked (second point, you know the one) and referred to it as a monkey capri sun because of how frequently I was hopping down there. The name stuck and the remaining minutes of the game were not only hilarious, but it actually got our 100% silent team to talk to each other. You’re dealing with 6 random strangers with varying temperaments - the more comfortable you are with each other and the better the atmosphere is within your group, the better you’ll work together! And the more fun you’ll have.
9. Take breaks! I tend to get into the habit of losing a competitive match, and then am unsatisfied with the loss - so I go into ANOTHER ranked game frustrated, and do even worse. Then, the cycle continues. Keep your headspace healthy and step away when you need to. The great part about the game is that you’re not in for the long haul in terms of game duration.
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sirlennon · 5 years
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jflashandclash · 7 years
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Attrition of Peace
Twelve: Frank
Thank the Gods My Dad is Roman
 Frank was determined to act like everything was normal today. He wanted to pretend he hadn’t spent the first half of yesterday avoiding his girlfriend and the latter half of the day chasing down weasels. No matter what animal he had turned into, he’d discovered weasels were difficult to catch.
Normally, he found his praetor house unbearably lonely. Jason had helped him take all of Jason’s stuff out, and put Frank’s stuff in. Members of the Fifth Cohort had snuck in for sleepovers a few times, but it was huge compared to the barracks. It made him think of his family’s burned mansion in North Vancouver.
At least he hadn’t blown up Camp Jupiter and Reyna could go on her date in peace. Despite all his heroics the past summer, he was still scared of disappointing her.
And he was scared of telling anyone that his stick was missing.
He must have misplaced it. That’s what he kept telling himself, but he kept imagining someone thinking it was a piece of kindling and throwing it in the fire. He’d furtively had the members of the Fifth Cohort go through their guests clothing when they went to the baths last night—just in case. He had known they were going to leave to catch a flight this morning, one earlier than morning inspection, and he didn’t want his stick to do some cross country traveling without him.
But nothing. He’d retraced all of his steps as a bloodhound to see if he could pick up the smell. The scent dead-ended at the Principia, intermixed with the various scents of their new guests. It was like someone had poofed with it. He didn’t know how it could disappear without him knowing. Normally, that thing weighed on him heavier than Sisyphus’s boulder.
This alone time at the praetor house gave him the quiet he needed to panic as he shaved his patchy chin growth and prepared to suit up for the day.
Then a shimmery image of Annabeth appeared in his mirror. Well, not in his mirror. Where the sunlight caught the steam in front of his mirror.
Frank yelped, stumbled backwards, and almost tripped over the toilet.
“Oh gods, it actually got through!” Annabeth cheered. “Frank!”
“Hey Annabeth,” he said, trying to pull his shirt and pants on as quickly and casually as he could. Knowing Annabeth, she wouldn’t even notice, but he could still feel his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I thought Iris Messaging hasn’t been working.”
“It hasn’t!” Percy’s voice came from somewhere behind her. “And Iris hasn’t been giving me any drachma refunds!”
“Percy!” he cried. Just hearing their voices was calming. Maybe they’d have some ideas on how to find his kindling. “It’s good to hear from you two.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have time to digress,” Annabeth said. She turned her face towards Percy and Frank could imagine the chastising look she was giving Percy. She looked back towards Frank, having given him—possibly strategically—time to change. “We’re looking for some demigods. They’re lead by a guy called Axel Pax—”
“He’s here. Why?” Frank said. He felt something squishy on his shirt. He reached down and found shaving cream smeared all over his clothing. He sighed, realizing he’d have to get changed again.
Percy snorted, “Because one of the girls with him went a little Poison Ivy and killed a bunch of mortals.”
“Percy! We’re not sure exactly what happened yet!”
Frank stared at Annabeth’s image. “What?”
Her expression was grim. “It’s not pretty. She’s carrying Backbiter, Kronos’s old scythe, though it could be in xiphos form. We don’t know what’s going on, but they have definitely proven to be dangerous.”
Frank was starting to feel nauseous, like he’d eaten some ice cream. “We just sent them your way on an airplane. Well, most of them. One of them is here, Axel Pax. Their escorts reported that one of them went missing on the way to the airport, maybe thirty minutes ago. A kid named Pax.” Reyna was supposed to be interrogating Axel about his brother’s disappearance right now.
“Be careful of that kid,” Percy warned. “The Stolls said there are rumors he can change into other people.”
Frank’s nausea solidified into a knot in his stomach. He thought about how Hazel hadn’t quite acted like herself when he saw her yesterday morning on their walk to the battlegrounds and on their… detour. And how Hazel left to grab something, only to show up moments later from a slightly different direction. She’d made him so flustered, he hadn’t thought twice about it.
And he hadn’t noticed his kindling was gone during the rest of practice because he was so focused on what to say to Hazel, and so upset she was acting like nothing had happened.
Frank balled his fists. His face felt like it was on fire and he couldn’t decide if it was from embarrassment or rage. “He has my stick. He stole it from me,” Frank realized.
“What?!” Annabeth asked, her face going pale.
“How?!” Percy asked. “You watch that thing like it’s your… well, your life force.”
“It went missing yesterday morning,” Frank growled. He was going to find that Pax kid, turn into a grizzly bear, and smack him around until Pax gave him his stick back and an apology. How dare he impersonate Hazel like… like that.
“Oh gods,” Annabeth said. “Frank, we’ll find them and your stick. When do the others land in New York?”
Frank shook his head. With trying to round up the weasels, run the camp, avoid Hazel, and look for his stick, he hadn’t paid as much attention to their guests’ itinerary. “I’m not sure, but I can find out from Reyna—but I’m not sure how to get in contact with you after. Iris Messaging hasn’t been working and every time we’ve tried to call you—”
Annabeth frowned. “My cell phone malfunctioned after I took some pictures of an Egyptian journal that we’re pretty sure was cursed.”
Frank probably should have asked, but his anger was too distracting.
“We’re pretty sure they used to be part of Kronos’ army, so the Pax brothers will be trained and—”
“You knew they were part of Kronos’ army and you let them into your camp?” Frank demanded.
Annabeth sighed, like she’d had this conversation before. “That’s not important right now. Just know that they could be very dangerous—”
“—same with that Ana girl—”
“—Euna,” Annabeth corrected. “And, Frank…” Annabeth’s expression changed. “Leo is—”
The image shuddered. Annabeth’s image disappeared as something moved in front of his window, blocking the sunlight’s path to the steam.
Frank almost hoped it was Pax, so he could throttle the kid. But he would have way rather heard the end of that sentence. Leo is… what?
“Those punks are dangerous,” the person said behind him. “But nothing you can’t handle.”
Frank was pretty sure he recognized that voice, though it sounded much smugger than usual. Frank turned, wishing people would stop crashing his bathroom.
He just wanted to finish shaving.
The man behind him wore a pair of dark cargo pants, a dark camo shirt, and a bulletproof vest lined with grenades. His combat boots were caked with mud, adding some unneeded decorations on Frank’s white floor. He wore red-tinted night vision goggles and a black bandana with a skull symbol. He was huge, and shouldered an enormous assault rifle, like a HKG36 on steroids. He stared past Frank, at the mirror. With his other hand, he shaved some scruff off his neck with a hunting knife.
Frank decided he didn’t want to use his dinky razor while this guy was shaving with a hunting knife. Frank could go get a knife from his room to try the same, but—with his luck—that would end this conversation faster than getting Hannibal the elephant to storm the praetor house.
“Mars?” Frank asked. Normally, his father looked like an honorable soldier. This guy looked more like an eager mercenary.
The guy must have been satisfied with his shave job, stowing away his hunting knife. “Eh, close enough kid. Ares. I don’t usually come here like this, especially with all you Romans expecting my other side, but this is personal. To both me and my stiffer side, I guess. And to Rome. But Roman aspect won’t handle this as tactfully as I will.”
Ares set his assault rifle down so he could crack his knuckles.
Frank didn’t understand why he was getting so mad at Ares for tracking dirt into his bathroom. He guessed it was Ares’ aggressive atmosphere, but he still felt like going for a loving father-son smack down. Were the Greek aspects of gods more… influential than the Roman?
“Is this about my stick?” Frank asked. He was mad at himself for asking. He didn’t want to talk about it, but the words just slipped out.
Ares bellowed out a laugh. “Oh no. That’s your problem. This is about those two punks, though mostly about the one that can turn part monster. I gotta hand it to him. If I didn’t hate him, I’d say he has a lot of spunk. Waltzing around Camp Jupiter—like he hadn’t killed two praetors.”
Frank dropped his razor. It clattered on the ground. “He what?!”
Ares shrugged, like this shouldn’t have been shocking. “The legion had to lose two praetors for Reyna and Jason to come to office. I’m not sure how he took out the first one, the one that Reyna replaced, but that monster killed the second in an ambush during the Second Titan War. He wore their medals on his military cloak as battle trophies.”
Wooziness hit Frank. Yesterday, he’d practiced fighting with Axel. He could envision the seemingly genuine glee Axel exuded when battling Reyna. Frank remembered feeling stupidly excited when Axel patted him on the back, complimenting one of his strikes. Axel gave off the confident cool of a leader, one that needed impressing.
But he had smelled weird. Frank couldn’t describe it, other than not-human.
“He killed two praetors. And you’re saying he can turn into a monster?” Frank asked.
“Something like that. I don’t really get it. The Leonis Caput is one of Hecate’s weird magic-science experiments. I’m not sure how much of it comes from being a savage freak, but he has a helmet that can turn him part monster now. But he doesn’t have it on him, so you should be able to take him pretty easily. I kinda wish he did, it would be a better fight.” Ares seemed disappointed.
“Gee, sorry,” Frank muttered.
The Leonis Caput. Frank had heard older legionnaires talk about that creature, one of Krios’s lieutenants.
“It’s a shame. Now, if I remember properly, you Romans are all about quests, right?” Ares scratched under his chin. “You got a pen on you?”
“Uh, no.”
“Augh, why do I feel like Romans never have pens?”
Frank scowled. “We’re in my bathroom.”
“Whatever,” Ares growled. He withdrew a grenade that morphed into a pen and went to scribble on Frank’s wall. Frank wanted to yell at him to stop. He’d have to clean that and the dirt on his floor. He wasn’t sure what the regulations were on yelling at your godly parent, but he assumed it would result in more than being grounded.
“So, you’re supposed to be a good tactician and whatever. If you were this guy, what do you think you’d be up to?”
Frank’s mind whirled. His jaw dropped. The Pax brothers had his stick. And Axel was currently with—
“Reyna,” Frank gasped. “Do you think he’s trying to collect more praetor medals?”
“I don’t know. I just hate the guy. It’s why I cursed him,” Ares said and stepped back from the wall.
“Why do you—”
Ares vanished, leaving Frank with a quest scribbled on his bathroom wall:
Bring the Leonis Caput before the council of the gods for divine judgment. Or at least kick his ass. Have fun kid.
Frank stared at the message for a second, deciding something for sure: the Greek version of his dad was a jerk.
Then he realized he was staring when he should have been scrambling for his armor and weapons. Reyna should be strong enough to hold off the Leonis Caput, right? Especially if he didn’t have his helm?
Good ol’ Ares.... such a great dad!
Sorry I’m running late on updates! It’s been a crazy week. Regardless, I hope you enjoy! I’m super excited for next week’s chapter: Axel’s Handicap of Emotional Heartache. Ready for this book to earn its title! XD
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