#deep fries blue gill

[agenttommykinard]

as someone from the Midwest, they did not give Bobby Nash enough Midwesternisms

[thelonecalzone]

At long last, here is the official reading list for There'll Be Some Changes Made, and a few recommendations from some of the readers! It's long, so hopefully there's a little something for everyone.

Thank you again to the wonderful readers, both for your encouragement, and for helping me compile this list <3

Recommendations (Named Throughout TBSCM)

The Pearl - John Steinbeck The House in the Cerulean Sea - TJ Klune The Great Alone - Kristin Hannah The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde Upon the Blue Couch - Laurie Kolp In the Dream House - Carmen Maria Machado The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith Paradise Rot - Jenny Hval Tipping the Velvet - Sarah Waters Fingersmith - Sarah Waters Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit - Jeanette Winterson Rubyfruit Jungle - Rita Mae Brown Under the Udala Trees - Chinelo Okparanta In at the Deep End - Kate Davies Some Girls Do - Jennifer Dugan This is How You Lose the Time War - Amal El-Mohtar, Max Gladstone  The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - Taylor Jenkins Reid Lavender House - Lev AC Rosen My Brilliant Friend - Elena Ferrante Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe - Fannie Flagg Straight Jacket Winter - Esther DuQuette and Gilles Poulin-Denis

Source Books (Referenced, but not named)

The Odyssey - Homer The Yellow Wallpaper - Charlotte Perkins Gilman The Glass Menagerie - Tennessee Williams Hamlet - William Shakespeare The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald Come Along with Me - Shirley Jackson (unfinished novel) We Have Always Lived in the Castle - Shirley Jackson A Certain Hunger - Chelsea G. Summers The Poison Garden - AJ Banner

Honorable Mentions:

The Haunting of Hill House - Shirley Jackson Different Class - Joanne Harris The Lost Girls of Ireland (Book 1) - Susanne O’Leary The Girl Next Door - Jack Ketchum The Broken Girls - Simone St. James Dear Fahrenheit 451 - Annie Spence The Canterville Ghost - Oscar Wilde One Last Stop - Casey McQuiston Ash - Malinda Lo Everything Leads to You - Nina LaCour Camp Slaughter - Sergio Gomez The Silence of the Girls - Pat Barker The Metamorphosis - Franz Kafka A Slow Fire Burning - Paula Hawkins The Other Boleyn Girl - Philippa Gregory The Miseducation of Cameron Post - Emily M. Danforth Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck

Banished (Under the Coffee Table) Books - DO NOT READ:

Ulysses - James Joyce Everything I Never Told You - Celeste Ng A Little Life - Hanya Yanagihara The Hunting Party - Lucy Foley My Sister’s Keeper - Jodi Picoult The Book Thief - Markus Zusak In the Darkroom - Susan Faludi Marley & Me - John Grogan

Recs from Fellow Readers

Things We Lost in the Fire - Marina Enriquez Her Body and Other Parties - Carmen Maria Machado The Well of Loneliness - Radclyffe Hall Stone Butch Blues - Leslie Feinberg Mouthful of Birds - Samantha Schweblin  The Safety of Objects - A.M. Homes Crush - Richard Siken The Taming of the Shrew - Shakespeare I’ve Got a Time Bomb - Sybil Lamb The Thing Around Your Neck - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie Last Night at the Telegraph Club - Malinda Lo Sadie - Courtney Summers The Messy Lives of Book People - Phaedra Patrick The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires - Grady Hendrix The Final Girl Support Group - Grady Hendrix The Lying Lives of Adults - Elena Ferrante They Were Here Before Us - Eric LaRocca The Patience Stone - Atiq Rahimi Agamemnon - Aeschylus Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard Cat's Eye - Margaret Atwood Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz's poetry - (start with "You Foolish Men") The poems of Sappho - (“Anactoria”, the book of fragments, and “Goatherd” specifically)

[rikiinamwachi35]

rare meme

[Image: An image of a plate of fried chicken, with a figure standing next to it. The figure is dressed in black robes and has a hood over their head. The figure's face is obscured by shadow, and their eyes glow with an otherworldly light. A caption reads: "ጠቆር ያለ ግኖስቲክ ጃህ ታየ፣ በሰማይ ላይ የሚያብረቀርቅ የአማርኛ ምልክቶች አሉ።" In the background, there is a collage of different images, including a chat log, a topology diagram, and a series of equations. A caption reads: "The universe reveals its secrets." Superimposed on top of the image is a block of text that reads as follows:]

Title: “Hal’s wet, ice blue hands and the quasar flower”

Chatbot: Generate a hypothetical interdimensional cable episode script about the following: rasta wittgenstein and bell hooks put the following meme on a hypothetical instance of 4chan that Morty from Rick and morty sees, after which he forces rick to take him to meet the characters mentioned. They meet in a pub in Edinburgh, called Deacon Brodie’s Tavern. The meme goes: 

[Rasta Wittgenstein and bell hooks are seen sitting at a table, deep in thought. Wittgenstein shows bell hooks a meme that says: blah blah ሪክ እና morty blah blah blah የተጠበሰ ዶሮ. Suddenly, they both burst out laughing, and Rasta Wittgenstein says: “Rasta Wittgenstein: "I've got it! A meme about Ender and Bean and fried chicken.”” BMO from Adventure Time sees the meme and makes a “seasoned chicken” meta meme about the book gravity’s rainbow and instagram and the Gingko seed, mentioning the color Pantone 627u, and posts it on a hypothetical version of Tumblr, which Morty sees. Jessica, who only uses 4chan in this specific universe, sees this text on /b: “>blah blah ሪክ እና morty blah blah blah የተጠበሰ ዶሮ Pantone 645u.” BMO gets a text from Hal Incandenza from Infinite Jest that says: “I’m writing a research paper about Gilles Deleuze, Rasta Wittgenstein, bell hooks, blah blah ሪክ እና morty blah blah blah የተጠበሰ ዶሮ, and “Speaker for the Dead”. Can we work together?” Meanwhile, a young chemical engineer at Tsinghua university with big plans and a glint in his eye, who was exiled in his youth, starts posting code on 4chan for a program called XiQiMemeGenerator, signing the posts <🐐Barrenwort>. Bean investigates the <🐐Barrenwort> posts, and starts having visions of an earth made of fried chicken.]

[seasonsofeverlark]

$1 Smooches

Author: @alliswell21

Prompt: Everlark and a Kissing Booth [submitted by @mandelion82]

Rating: G

Author’s Note: Modern AU. ~1600 words _____________

“That game was rigged!” Katniss seethed.

“Lower your voice, Brainless! Do you want the carnies to curse you? I don’t, I’m standing right next to you!” Johanna hissed, slapping a hand over Katniss’ mouth. 

“I’m sure carnival workers consider that a derogatory term,” Prim sighed, done with her companions silliness.

“Anything is offensive nowadays,” said Johanna, winded, after Katniss shoved her away. 

Katniss scowled, giving another shove for good measure, “Cut it out, Johanna!”

Prim rolled her eyes. “You are aware, this is a charity event benefiting the hospital I work for, right? all booths are operated by volunteering hospital employees, which means the ring-the-bottle game wasn’t rigged,” Prim stared pointedly at her sister, “and nobody is getting cursed!” She glared at Johanna next, “Behave!”

There was nothing Katniss hated more than disappointing her baby sister. “I’m sorry, Prim, we’ll be better,” Katniss glared at her friend, “Right Jo?” 

“Fine! But I demand a greasy, deep fried treat, and a big sugary drink to go with it!” 

“Yay!” Primrose clapped, hooking her slender arms through her sister and friend’s elbows, “Lets have some fun!”

The trio came to a food booth, Prim piped in, “I’ll ordered us a funnel cake and two giant lemonades, you guys go find another game, I don’t mind waiting in line,” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah…and then we can go to the booth my department set up. My favorite nurse in the whole world is manning it!”

Katniss and Johanna walked past the inflatables and the bouncy castle, trying not to bump into families with rambunctious children, and then, they saw a ridiculously loud-excuse-of-an-eyesore-shack painted in pepto pink, decked to the gills with giant red and pink hearts sprouting from every corner of the stand, and a large, white sign crowning the top, announcing: “$1 Smooches”, spelled in blinking light bulbs, with a neon yellow arrow pointing downwards.

“A kissing booth?” Johanna arched her eyebrows, curiously. 

The queue to the booth was very long and to Katniss’ surprise, composed mostly by female patrons. 

“What. Is. that?!” Gasped Johanna, pointing to the booth while fanning herself with her free hand. Without further comment, Jo grabbed Katniss’ hand and marched straight for the kissing booth line.

“What—?”

“Come on Brainless, I have two singles in my wallet and a tube of chapstick ready for the hunk selling kisses!” 

Katniss was momentarily confused, until she saw a muscular man with a boyish, lopsided smile, taking a crisp dollar bill from a very enthusiastic woman; a second later, the man puckered up his pink lips, and leaned forward, just outside the big window of the booth, forearms flexing deliciously against the sleeves of his polo shirt; a wayward curl of his ashy blonde hair fell over his forehead in just the right way.

“Oh!” Katniss gulped, falling into step with her best friend. 

The line advanced impressively fast, for how long it was. In a matter of minutes, which was truly appreciated, since nobody particularly enjoyed being sandwiched between the baking sun and the suffocating blacktop of the lot. The girls were second to next line, but Johanna started sneezing uncontrollably, thanks to the cigarette smoke of a passerby. 

“Ugh! This is a hospital’s parking lot! A no smoke zone!” Jo rasped angrily, “Here!” She shoved a balled up wad of cash into Katniss’ hands, and before her friend could stop her, she went after the smoking a-hole, to rip him a new one. 

Katniss found herself at the front of line very suddenly, and the man beckoned her forward, lopsided grin, so inviting, she stepped up without consciously deciding to.

The man studied her quizzically for a moment, “Hello, there,” he greeted, “Are you an employee at Panem General, or are you a guest? You look familiar,” he said.

“Guest,” Katniss answered, a little too fast. She stepped backwards, rethinking her situation, the woman directly behind her, gave her a weak push forward, to keep her from stepping on her toes. 

The man looked at the ball of cash in Katniss’ hands and smiled brightly. “Would you like to make a donation to Panem General’s pediatric wing? Every dollar counts,” he said softly.

Katniss nodded bashfully, not really understanding his words, too preoccupied with how velvety soft the man’s voice was. She handed him the whole wad, which apparently was $5 in crinkled $1 bills. 

The guy took only one, and placed the rest of the money on the counter, next to Katniss’ hand, before leaning forward to brush his lips against Katniss’. 

There was no telling how long the kiss lasted, but judging by the aggravated buzzing of complaints coming from behind Katniss, it had been long enough to warrant an annoyed calling out.

“Hey! Stop holding up the smooches!” 

Katniss opened her eyes, shifting down to the ball of her feet. She hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes and stretched on the tip of her toes during her kiss. She stared at the guy, who looked slightly dazed as he admired her back; his smile seemed even more crooked than before. 

“Oh my gosh, you found our booth!” Prim cried out, startling Katniss. “Oh, and you met nurse Mellark!” 

“What?!” The crowd behind Katniss grew restless and annoyed by the second. “I haven’t met any nurses—“

Katniss peered back at the booth suspiciously, expecting to see this nurse her sister spoke so much about, but the only person currently in the booth was the kissable blonde man, watching his sister with arched brows and surprise in his deep blue eyes. 

“Hi, Peeta!” Prim waved, the guy in the booth waved back, but the next person in line stood in front of him, blocking his view.

“Wait…” Katniss pulled Prim further out, before the mob of angry women throttled them, “That man is nurse Mellark?” She asked, pointing back as discreetly as she could; the man was looking at them with badly veiled concern, while still trying to do his job, as host of the smooching booth. “You mean to tell me, the handsome man kissing half the fair is the nurse Mellark you’re always gushing about, with the home baked cookies and the cute little drawings for the oncology patients?” Her gray eyes x-rayed her sister.

“Uh, yeah,” Prim sounded a bit too nonchalant. “He’s amazing, let me tell you,” she sort of mumbled, studying her cuticles. 

“Hey! What did I miss?” Johanna came back munching on a box of nachos, swimming in melted cheese. “Oooh! Elephant ear!” She said, snatching the funnel cake Prim was holding awkwardly. 

“Primrose forgot to mention that her most favorite nurse in the whole world is a HE!” Katniss snapped. 

“What?!”

“What’s so wrong about that? Men can be nurses,” Prim shrugged.

“But you didn’t tell me he was a man!”

“Well, you didn’t tell me you were a sexist pig, Katniss.”

“I am not!” 

Johanna giggled, stuffing her face with fair food. 

“Nurse Mellark is a great care provider who loves children and does his absolute best to bring joy during the worst time of our patients’ lives…What does it matter if he’s a guy? He’s great! What did you expect anyway?” Prim countered defensively, stubbornly.

“I don’t know! An elderly lady, with lots of motherly wisdom or something… I mean, every time you talked about nurse Mellark, you mentioned delicious homemade pastries, and finger paints, and sweet bedtime stories… I never pictured nurse Mellark to be so…”

“Manly,” Johanna finished, looking at the man in the booth, dreamily, finally having caught on. “He’s more of a tall tree trunk I’d like to climb like a koala bear in heat… now where’s my cash, brainless, my lips are ready for some smacking,”

“Johanna!” Katniss growled, but her friend waved her off. A thought occurred to her just then. “Prim…” Katniss whispered into her sister’s ear, “Are you…okay with this?” She said motioning to the 20 or so women in line. “Are you okay with all these people kissing nurse Mellark?” 

Primrose’s lips twitched, “Why wouldn’t I be? This booth was sort of my idea… it was actually more about  Doctor Odair selling the kisses, but nurse Mellark was very good sport, volunteering, ” She rolled her blue eyes. 

“Mmm… I just thought, maybe you had a thing for him?”

“For Peeta?!” Prim said loudly, before laughing hysterically. 

Katniss’ eyes shifted everywhere, and to her chagrin, the man in question— Peeta, apparently— looked up at his name.

“Not so loud!” Katniss hissed, but got interrupted by a booming voice. 

“Ladies, it is time for me to take a break.” Announced nurse Mellark— Peeta— A chorus of disgruntled patrons filled the air, but the man raised his hands placatingly, “Not to worry everyone, my pinch hitter, Doctor Odair, is ready to take over!”

As if by magic, the most attractive man Katniss had ever seen in her life— besides the beautiful male nurse, of course— popped from beside nurse Mellark and a collective swooning sigh rapped over the small crowd. 

Prim laughed. “Come on, I’ll introduce you guys properly. You’re going to love Peeta!”

“Hell no! I’m paying double for the new guy! You gals go ahead,” Johanna called, wolf whistling at the newcomer, waving two dollar bills in the air. 

A moment later, Prim had dragged Katniss to meet her most favorite nurse, secretly crossing her fingers as she made introductions…she thought Peeta and Katniss were perfect for each other, and she wholeheartedly hoped they would kick it off right away, so when she was wrinkly and white haired, she could tell her grand nephews and nieces the story of how their grandma paid a dollar to kiss their grandpa for the very first time. 

[pricryo]

Axel 👉👈

Ⲷ KINTYPE AND EMOJI - axel (kingdom hearts) 🔥 SIGHT ⲷ a sunrise after a long, long night 🔥 ⲷ perfectly stacked papers ⲷ a long, spiderweb-like crack in a mirror 🔥 ⲷ ripples across a once-still pond ⲷ flickering streetlights in the dead of night ⲷ intensely saturated neon signs ⲷ an ocean of grass rolling in the wind ⲷ the facets of a newly polished gemstone ⲷ stormclouds gathering on the horizon ⲷ something unreal in your periphery vision 🔥 ⲷ the grandeur of old architecture ⲷ rust building on old machines ⲷ dirt and mud tracked through a building ⲷ a long road stretching into the distance ⲷ the sun glinting off metal 🔥

COLORS ⲷ wine red, rose gold, & aqua green 🔥? ⲷ terracotta orange, puce, & tan yellow ⲷ chocolate brown, blush pink, & white ⲷ apricot, royal purple, & desaturated red 🔥 ⲷ seafoam green, navy blue, & silver ⲷ gunmetal, bronze, & rust red ⲷ pastel pink, baby blue, & cloud white ⲷ military green, dirt brown, & mustard ⲷ eggplant purple, peach, & warm blue ⲷ flamingo, bright yellow, & electric blue ⲷ mint green, burgundy, & royal yellow ⲷ sepia brown, abalone, & mink grey ⲷ amethyst, emerald, & sapphire ⲷ bubblegum pink, salmon, & tiger orange ⲷ scarlet red, mahogany, & ebony black 🔥

HEARING ⲷ birdsong in the pre-dawn morning ⲷ the scrape of a knife across metal ⲷ the gentle rustle of sheets in the morning ⲷ voices raised in song ⲷ the crunch of footsteps on the forest floor ⲷ the rising tone of emergency sirens ⲷ utterly contagious laughter 🔥 ⲷ rainfall hitting a tin roof ⲷ gunshots piercing a perfect silence ⲷ many people talking at once ⲷ the crash of sea waves against the shore ⲷ ringing in your ears after a loud noise 🔥 ⲷ something shattering into pieces 🔥 ⲷ the thump of something hitting the carpet ⲷ a scream cutting through the air

MUSIC GENRE ⲷ classical, opera, & acoustic music ⲷ electronic, lo-fi, & downtempo music 🔥 ⲷ rock, prog, & industrial music 🔥 ⲷ disco, funk, & soul music ⲷ jazz, ragtime, & swing music ⲷ pop, indie pop, & worldbeat music ⲷ hip-hop, trap, & rap music ⲷ metal, nu metal, & thrash music ⲷ folk, country, & skiffle music ⲷ experimental, acousmatic, & noise music

TASTE ⲷ the taste of something honey sweet 🔥 ⲷ the aftertaste of something bitter 🔥 ⲷ the taste of something extremely sour ⲷ the taste of something very salty 🔥 ⲷ the taste of something intensely spicy  ⲷ the taste of something dry & bland ⲷ the taste of many strong seasonings ⲷ the taste of something gilled & smoky ⲷ the taste of something juicy & flavourful ⲷ the taste of something rank & rotted ⲷ the taste of something extremely bitter ⲷ the taste of something clean and fresh ⲷ the taste of coppery blood ⲷ the taste of dirt or clay ⲷ the taste of tobacco

FOODS ⲷ a meal of lobster, risotto, & scallops ⲷ a meal of a burger, fries, & a milkshake 🔥 ⲷ a meal of bread, cheese, & water ⲷ a meal of steak, potatoes, & mushrooms ⲷ a meal of a beef bowl, rice, & an egg ⲷ a meal of scrambled eggs & orange juice ⲷ a meal of tamales & grilled corn ⲷ a meal of fresh salad, & grilled kale ⲷ a meal of spaghetti, garlic bread & salad ⲷ a meal of various cakes & candies 🔥 ⲷ a meal of grilled cheese & tomato soup ⲷ a meal of grilled fish, quinoa, & veggies ⲷ a meal of curry, flatbread, & samosas ⲷ a meal of lentil stew & challah bread ⲷ a meal of whatever you can put together 🔥

SMELL ⲷ the scent of the first rain of the season ⲷ the scent of a strong perfume ⲷ the scent of engine oil and dirt ⲷ the scent of wet fur ⲷ the scent of something burning 🔥 ⲷ the scent of something old uncovered ⲷ the scent of rot and dead things ⲷ the scent of newly poured pavement ⲷ the scent of freshly picked fruits ⲷ the scent of the salty ocean spray 🔥 ⲷ the scent of spilled alcohol ⲷ the scent of bleach and cleaning solution ⲷ the scent of sweat lingering in the air 🔥 ⲷ the scent of newly opened paints ⲷ the scent of fresh coffee

EMOTIONS ⲷ an all-consuming rage 🔥 ⲷ hesitantly bubbling happiness 🔥 ⲷ jealousy you can’t ignore ⲷ an emptiness where emotion should be 🔥 ⲷ anxiety that you can’t get rid of ⲷ a deep sadness that you can’t hide 🔥 ⲷ a feeling of disgust and superiority ⲷ unending boredom ⲷ anticipation for the future ⲷ love and adoration that feels like home 🔥 ⲷ unwavering devotion 🔥 ⲷ happiness that’s practically contagious ⲷ deepfelt remorse and guilt 🔥 ⲷ simmering resentment over the past ⲷ overwhelming terror

TOUCH ⲷ water crashing against your body ⲷ a hand running through your hair 🔥 ⲷ the bite of a brisk wind ⲷ fire scorching your skin 🔥 ⲷ the tenderness of new bruises 🔥 ⲷ a pounding headache that won’t go away ⲷ an old, scratchy blanket ⲷ jewelry bouncing against your body ⲷ a hand heavy in your own 🔥 ⲷ a numb tingling across your limbs 🔥 ⲷ the sting and ache of a fresh injury 🔥 ⲷ something squeezing you tight as a vice ⲷ a tense grinding of your teeth 🔥 ⲷ static zapping your skin ⲷ running your hand over a bumpy wall

TEXTURES ⲷ something that feels gooey & messy ⲷ something that feels rough & abrasive ⲷ something that feels granular & coarse ⲷ something that feels fluffy & soft 🔥 ⲷ something that feels squishy & plush ⲷ something that feels smooth & silky ⲷ something that feels bumpy & unusual ⲷ something that feels wet & slippery ⲷ something that feels stiff & leathery 🔥 ⲷ something that feels sharp & painful 🔥

LOCATIONS ⲷ a home you’ll never get to see again 🔥 ⲷ somewhere out of this world ⲷ a forest older than man itself ⲷ the back alleys of a towering city 🔥 ⲷ the penthouse of an expensive hotel  ⲷ a club with pulsing lights and loud music ⲷ your own space, away from everything 🔥 ⲷ a dune in a scorching hot desert ⲷ a cliff alongside a rocky beach ⲷ the peak of a high mountain ⲷ an under-personalized office space 🔥 ⲷ a library full to the brim with rare books ⲷ an abandoned and forbidden place 🔥 ⲷ the fields of an isolated farm ⲷ a bridge overlooking a city view

CONCEPTS ⲷ history that repeats over and over again ⲷ hurting someone in a way you can’t fix 🔥 ⲷ breaking free from your inner demons 🔥 ⲷ learning to accept the world as it is ⲷ the haze of something you’ve forgotten 🔥 ⲷ questioning a deep set morality ⲷ joining technology and nature into one ⲷ the nature of fate and consciousness ⲷ the inescapable inevitability of death 🔥 ⲷ the existence of some higher being ⲷ the simplicity if minimalism ⲷ acting on base instincts 🔥 ⲷ the idea of the philosophical zombie ⲷ the world as one interconnected system ⲷ the tenuous concept of family

ACTIONS ⲷ slicing into flesh with something sharp 🔥 ⲷ walking faster than everyone around you ⲷ dancing with no inhibitions ⲷ pressing down on the trigger of a gun ⲷ shaking someone’s hand for the first time 🔥 ⲷ working without taking a break ⲷ breaking something beautiful ⲷ toying with a glass of wine ⲷ running away from something dangerous 🔥 ⲷ digging a deep hole ⲷ banging against a door ⲷ creating art or playing music ⲷ laying down after a long day 🔥 ⲷ tapping against an electronic screen ⲷ bouncing on the balls of your feet

TIME ⲷ the clock striking midnight ⲷ the witching hour ⲷ the first minutes of dawn ⲷ stolen moments during a busy day ⲷ the start of solar noon 🔥 ⲷ the long hours of the day ⲷ the early hours of the evening ⲷ the last moments of dusk 🔥 ⲷ time set aside for a good meal ⲷ the time we lose to sleep

VOCABULARY ⲷ the words love, ineffable, & ethereal 🔥 ⲷ the words verdict, authority, & ensnared ⲷ the words aerie, melody, & serendipity ⲷ the words epoch, epiphany, & solitude 🔥 ⲷ the words oblivion, death, & ephemeral 🔥 ⲷ the words harbinger, pyrrhic, & penumbra ⲷ the words leisure, halcyon, & cosmic ⲷ the words opulent, wine, & coquette ⲷ the words carnage, ire, & basalt 🔥 ⲷ the words denouement, furtive, & labyrinth ⲷ the words sin, debasement, & iconoclast ⲷ the words liminal, solander, & sonder ⲷ the words petrichor, numinous, & fjord ⲷ the words apotheosis, metanoia, & divine ⲷ the words moist, smear, & secrete

send me one of my kintypes and i’ll fill out what their aesthetic is!

[michaelmyersmalewife]

LEVIATHAN | 12. A Call to Arms | MASTERLIST

words: 4k+

A/N: cant believe we’re only 3 chapters away from the end

you can also support this fic on wattpad & ao3

Jodie and the others weren't sure if Serizawa succeeded.

Not that that was their choice. If they had decided to stick around, the shock wave from the explosion would rip the sub apart. And it still might, as they raced back to the surface.

"Thirty thousand yards until we're outside the convergence zone." the commander said as they raced, or at least floated quickly, away from the underwater city and its fallen god.

She was a bundle of frayed emotions ready to burst, and she couldn't help but think of the worst. What if Serizawa hadn't done his job? There was just as big of a chance that he might've died before arming the bomb. Hell, the sub might've malfunctioned just like the drones and he was still back there, waiting. Jodie felt her stomach drop. What if there was something in there other than Godzilla, ready to devour anyone that entered?

They couldn't just go back and try again. They had more nukes but no more subs. If Serizawa failed, they were out of options.

But then, just as Jodie was beginning to feel as hopeless as ever, pure light shone through the abyss. She breathed a sigh of relief, but then the reality of what had happened hit her like the wave that was hurtling towards them too fast to register.

"Shock wave incoming -!" the commander shouted.

When it hit them, Gill reflexively grabbed Jodie's hand. She jumped a little, forgetting that they might very die in seconds. She gripped back, letting that familiar warm feeling wash over her.

In the next second it felt like a mountain had landed on her chest as the submarine was suddenly accelerated to speeds it was never meant to withstand. The hull groaned, shrieked, snapped - the metal walls tearing themselves apart from the force. The smell of something burning filled the air as the lights flickered wildly. And even at the rate they were travelling, they were still surrounded by pitch black water.

But in seconds a faint light appeared above them, growing brighter as they hurled toward the surface by the expanding explosion. They broke into the air, tossed up by a jet of water. Jodie's senses were fried, and for a minute she couldn't quite register what was going on around her. For a brief moment, she felt weightless.

And then the sub slammed down on the ocean's surface like a breaching whale, nearly throwing everyone off of their feet from the impact.

As the sub began to steady itself, Jodie took in a breath she hadn't known she was holding. The lights were still a bit jittery, but as a whole, everything seemed as intact as it could be. Glancing down, she realized she was still holding Gill's hand in a vice grip. They didn't let go.

"You okay?" she muttered.

Breathless and wide-eyed, Gill nodded, letting out a shaky laugh.

"Send a distress message to the Argo." the commander said.

_____

Climbing out onto the submarine's upper deck, rain thundered from the dark sky above.

Waves crashed against the sub below them, rocking it beneath Jodie's already unsteady feet. In every direction, all she could see were the restless waves extending to the horizon.

Behind her, one of the soldiers launched a rescue flare. It shot up, burning brightly but its glow was dimmed when it reached the low-hanging clouds. She doubted anyone would be able to see such a feeble light in the midst of Ghidorah's tempest.

Mark looked around them with binoculars, searching for anything that weren't waves. A ship, the Argo, a blue light..

"Anything?" Chen asked over the rain.

He shook his head. Jodie brushed back the damp hair that stuck to her face, the same spiraling thoughts coming back to her. What if the bomb hadn't cured Godzilla? He was in a weakened state, they could've easily killed him. But he had survived nuclear blasts before, right? But that was decades ago, with older weapons. Did Serizawa die for nothing?

As if to quell her mind, the ocean ahead of them began to boil and churn.

Not like the rogue waves that crashed into each other, or an odd crosscurrent, but an explosion of water that was building up, only slower. The sea was being pushed up from beneath by something big.

And then there was a light - not the warm yellow light from the cave or the explosion - an electric blue glow that shone through the waves.

Jagged scutes that could've only belonged to Godzilla emerged like a mountain range, crackling and dancing with energy. His head was the next to breach the surface, rising high above them as waterfalls of seawater fell from his body like curtains. As he continued to rise, tons of displaced water rocked their minuscule craft. Jodie grabbed for the railing as the sub shook.

With a whir, the light from the titan's back shot up his spine - his eyes glowing with his internal fire and shining through the cracks in his scales - as he turned his head toward the heavens. A tower of blue fire erupted from his jaws, stabbing into the dark clouds and igniting them from within. It seemed like an affirmation, a celebration of his sudden recovery - but also a challenge, as the clouds from Ghidorah's storm began to part just ever so slightly.

Maybe no one had seen their rescue flare, but they might've seen his.

Gill let out a winded chuckle as she stumbled back from the force of his ascension, a faint smile appearing on Jodie's face. But then his attention was focused elsewhere - directly at them. The titan's brows knit together, bending down toward them as if noticing their tiny forms for the first time. Jodie held her breath. They must've seemed like ants to him, but nothing in his gaze seemed outwardly threatening despite his intimidating presence. The lizard sniffed the air, sending out a humid puff of air over them.

The sub's commander reached for his sidearm.

"Nobody move!" Mark shouted.

As the titan leaned over them, Jodie became caught in his warm amber eyes, and for a second she swore that he stared back. Like he was trying to say something. And somewhere in the back of her mind she thought he did, or at least a feeling had passed between them. Something that struck deep in her heart.

Godzilla had every right to wipe them off the face of the earth. Not only had they nearly killed him, but they also likely destroyed what he considered his home. And yet, there wasn't that same malicious hostility she had seen in Ghidorah. Annoyance, maybe. But it felt more like a thank-you than anything.

Everything seemed to slow down, the world dropping from beneath her feet until all she could hear was her own breathing, her own heartbeat - and Godzilla's. She had always heard Serizawa, Chen, and Emma talk about the connection between humans and titans, how coexistence was possible between the two. And in that moment, she understood what they meant. What they really meant.

Out of the corner of her eye she also saw Mark staring up at him. She wasn't sure if he saw what she had, but for the first time since Colorado she didn't see hate in his eyes.

Then Godzilla broke their mutual gaze, leaving them all shaken and amazed, but almost with a sense of clarity. For some strange reason, she knew they were going to be okay.

The titan turned, looking down at them one last time before diving back into the sea, scutes slicing through the waves. As his tail splashed back down, Jodie snapped out of her daze.

"I know how to find them." Mark whispered, turning to Graham.

But before he could clarify, a sonic boom shattered the air. She looked up with dread, expecting to see Rodan or some other flying creature. Or worse: Ghidorah. But instead it was the Argo. It didn't look great - battered with smoke climbing from several places - but to Jodie she had never wanted to see anything more.

As they boarded the craft, Coleman was there to meet them.

He must've seen something in their faces, or maybe he had been counting and realized there was one missing among them. But then she realized Graham had still been clutching Serizawa's notebook in her hands. Those two had rarely been apart, 'two halves of a whole mind' they would always say. Coleman's face fell when everyone gathered on the bridge. Everyone except for Serizawa.

"Let's make him proud and not screw this up." Mark said.

"God, how did he, um -"

"By saving us." Chen said.

"So what's the latest, Sam?" Jodie asked, derailing the conversation when she began to feel a lump in her throat.

He let out a heavy sigh. "Where to start - uh, we think Emma activated the ORCA somewhere near Boston. That's why Ghidorah and Godzilla are headed that way now. But we haven't been able to pinpoint its location without the missing piece of the ORCA signal -"

"I've got the missing piece." Mark said, looking over the waveforms on the screen before him.

Everyone stared at him. Jodie tilted her head. She couldn't see anything different from before.

"It's Godzilla, right?" she said.

"But we already tried that." Coleman said, confused.

"It's not Godzilla," Mark replayed the ORCA's signal, pointing to a specific waveform that appeared on the screen in front of them. "It's us."

"What do you mean 'us'?" Foster asked.

"I'm not sure how but Emma combined Godzilla's bioacoustics with a human's to create the ORCA's signal." Mark continued.

"The titans must think it's another apex predator, it's brilliant." Graham said.

Stanton pulled out his flask from his vest, unscrewing its top. "Well, we are a bunch of horny, murderous carnivores."

"Yeah, it's real poetic. Now what?" Foster said.

"We track it, we find it, and we get my daughter back."

After taking a particularly long swig, Stanton gestured at a video feed of Ghidorah's storm. "Great, what about Moe, Larry, and Curly over here?"

"Godzilla will bring balance." Graham with a familiar firmness.

Stanton, already a little tipsy threw her a cheeky look. "Oh, I get it." he said. "A little of Serizawa's old 'let them fight' action. Used to love it when he'd say that."

"No." she said. "This time, we join the fight."

_____

As the Argo sped towards Boston, Jodie stared at the news feeds on the screens in the bridge.

She knew that Emma had turned on the ORCA, but they hadn't told her that it had effectively paralyzed most of the titans. Literally. In nearly every news coverage it all showed the same thing: confused titans Only three were known to still be active - Ghidorah, Rodan, and Mothra. And now Godzilla.

Maybe she changed her mind, she thought.

After all, she wasn't trying to kill everyone. It was just a reckless mistake. A mistake that cost hundreds of thousands of lives. And even then, Ghidorah and his pal Rodan were still active. Although the tides were turning, nowhere was safe with those two still around. Jodie didn't know how to feel.

At the very least, Godzilla was on their side. And Mothra, though, she had reportedly left shortly after they departed in the sub. According to their trackers, she was headed back to her home in China. But according to the twins, she was "covering her bases", whatever that meant. If she decided to make another appearance, it'd be an even match.

But as for the human side of the army, they didn't have much. Only a fraction of their fleet had escaped Ghidorah's wrath, but more aircraft made it out in time, and they were desperately trying to find places to refuel and rearm before rejoining the fight. Jodie could feel it was going to be a big one.

And now that Mark had cracked the ORCA's code, they were able to get a fix on its exact location, which was where they were headed now. With the remainder of their fighting force coming together, they dove headfirst toward a battle with a being wielding power beyond all understanding. But this time, they had a monster of their own leading the way.

_____

Madison was snacking mindlessly on a tasteless food-adjacent bar of something they had nabbed from the ship when it happened.

Something flashed across her eyes, or maybe it had all been in her head and she just thought she saw it, but regardless she had seen a bright light. Blinking it away without a second thought, she carried on. But seconds later she had felt an overwhelming pang of remorse, and shortly afterward, gratitude. For what? She found her eyes beginning to tear up but she rubbed it away, confused.

Looking around the room, no one else had seemed out of the ordinary. The Regulator was standing by the door, looking out for any possible intruders, and Elena was sitting in a corner of the room, far from the ORCA and the headpiece. The room suddenly felt a little stuffy.

No longer feeling hungry, Madison put the bar away, choosing instead to observe the evacuation.

"I'll keep an eye out for anything weird." she told Elena. The woman nodded.

Taking a pair of binoculars, she headed up the stairs to the roof of the booth. The sky had shifted from rolling gray clouds to a pale, sickly yellow on the horizon. Gusts of wind mussed her hair and spun stray leaves from the roof. The air felt damp even though it wasn't raining. Something about the entire atmosphere felt prickly. It was cool but now and then a warmer breeze passed through, and the smell of something burning came with it. He was coming, she could feel it. At the very least, the last of the helicopters had left the stadium. Boston had become a ghost town for as far as she could see. There was no one left wandering the streets, no headlights moved between buildings, no honking horns. The sirens had died down. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. But with the ORCA's song still blasting away, she knew the calm wouldn't last before the storm arrived.

Its sound was almost symphonic. It was simple, like a heartbeat. But it sounded different since the first time she heard it in action. Those weirdos had done something to it, something that her parents had never been able to figure out back when it was in its earliest development. She remembered how angry it had made Mothra back at the temple in China, and it had a similar effect on Ghidorah and Rodan. But with the other titans, it seemed to freeze them in their tracks, like their minds weren't capable of differentiating between the alpha frequencies produced by their king and the ORCA. Mothra...she seemed to be safe from Ghidorah's reach. But she hadn't heard from her in a while - at least, she was sure that voice had been her. She wondered if the pupa had already transformed. What did she look like now? With Ghidorah taking out every threat to his rule, she was sure to be in danger. Was she still okay?

She decided not to dwell on it, choosing instead to think of the bigger problem at hand. They had carried out their plan, and while it seemed to be working, this was as far as they thought ahead. Now they just had to play an agonizingly slow waiting game. Maybe she put too much faith in them, but hopefully Monarch would figure out what was going on. Maybe her father would be with them. If that were the case, she would stay here in Fenway. If Elena and the Regulator wanted to take cover, she'd let them. Madison wasn't straying from the ORCA's side if it meant a possible rescue.

But of course, the Controller might come after them instead. They could just as easily detect the signal as well, and though her mom had promised to buy them some time, she could only do so much. And he was probably pretty pissed off if he found out, which he undoubtedly would. If he caught them, she doubted he'd let them off easy. That was a pretty good reason to get lost.

So which was it to be?

After a few minutes of debating, her mind began to wander. That feeling from earlier still hung in the back of her mind. It felt really familiar. She didn't want to believe it, but she had to know. Shutting her eyes, Madison searched for a connection.

But like her previous tries, there was nothing.

Just an abyss through which she sloshed through black, shallow water. It was still scary, but with Elena not too far away, she felt just a little more at ease. She called out into the void.

Was that you? Please, say something - anything, she pleaded. I know you're not dead, you can't be.

Somewhere, off in the distance, there was a blue light, glowing and growing in intensity. She didn't have the chance to register where it was coming from before she was submerged in radiant blue.

She felt an odd sense of relief, until she was thrown off her feet, tumbling for a while before landing on something that felt...solid? Madison pressed her hands into the ground, fingers curling around something soft. Sand? Looking around, she found that she was no longer in that dark abyss, but on a beach bathed in a monochromatic blue. Waves crashed on its shore, the water coming up just past her ankle. She stood up.

The only sound she could hear was the ocean, her own breathing, the sound of sand crunching beneath her shoes.

But then she felt something behind her, a light. So she turned around. Just a few feet ahead of her was a wall of scaly flesh, and as her gaze went higher, she saw a leg. And that leg was attached to a torso, and with that torso was a pair of arms that bore claws at least three times her size. It was Godzilla.

His teeth glinted in the dim lighting of the mind-beach, but it wasn't the snarling smirks that Ghidorah usually wore. It was something more genuine, or at least as genuine as a reptilian could be.

You can't put a dent in me that easily.

Madison smiled.

Somehow, the titan seemed to notice her relief, and with a deep rumble that almost sounded like a bass-boosted purr, he bent down. He kept bending until his snout was mere feet away from her. It reminded her of that moment in China, with Mothra. Only she was more hesitant to reach out to him now.

She hated to admit it, but Godzilla intimidated her. His presence was all-encompassing. And it was hard not to feel microscopic around him. But looking into his eyes, there was a humbleness to him too, something tired and old. It reminded her of her father.

Slowly, Madison outstretched a hand.

Godzilla stared at her with a passive gaze as she grazed his scales. And with a puff of hot air from his nostrils, he stood back up. Everything was going to be okay.

But then something in the atmosphere changed, and Godzilla could sense it too. His scutes flashed in warning, looking nowhere and everywhere.

You gotta get outta here, kid

But what about you? Are you okay?

With a roar, Madison was expelled from the headspace before she could send another thought through. Like no time had passed at all, she found herself back on the roof. But something was different.

It began with a strange feeling, the prickling in the air becoming so intense it snapped her back to reality in seconds. Then she felt a pressure in her ears, like when you were cruising in an airplane. And shortly afterward, the wind picked up - the flags that swung on the rooftop flapping harder and harder. But in the blink of an eye they stopped - only to start wildly flapping in the opposite direction. She shivered.

In the distance, something was moving. It was hard to focus on at first, but then she realized it was the sky. The yellowed lens of the horizon was gone, replaced by rolling clouds so dark they were almost black. They poured in like fog, squeezing between buildings with increasing speed, engulfing them, brightened by coils of lightning. Thunder clapped all around her, and a strange deep thudding, like a bass-boosted cackle. Or like an animal sound made in the back of a really big throat.

If dad or the Controller were coming for her, they were all beaten out by Ghidorah.

Like an angel of death, dragging the heavens with him, the clouds began to close around the stadium from every direction. Heart banging in her chest, she wanted to move but found herself stuck in place.

"Madison!" a voice called from behind her.

It was Elena, holding the door open and waving for her to come back inside. She didn't think twice as she sprinted behind the door, helping her pull it closed against the increasing wind. The pressure in her ears increased, the floor beneath her feet pulsed, a plastic cup on one of the desks rattled and rolled to the floor. The booth's windows shook as the charcoal-colored fog filled the stadium. The lights flickered, and the ORCA's song bent into a weird warble.

Then she heard the beating of wings. Very large wings.

Madison backed away from the window, letting Elena guide her to the back of the room. She tried to see through the fog and behind the glass, but she couldn't focus on anything. Not that she needed to. He was there, she could feel it. His beating wings grew louder and louder until they weren't, softening until there was silence. She held her breath.

He didn't know where they were, but that didn't stop Ghidorah from slamming down into the arena. The ground cracked beneath the force of his landing, and the entire building shuddered, knocking them all off their feet. Madison lay on the ground, stunned, while Elena and the Regulator were attempting to prop themselves up with their arms. They all huddled under a table, staring out the window in silent fear.

Ghidorah looked agitated, heads whipping around, searching for something. The ORCA had done its trick, the sound from the speakers puzzling him. He thought he was hearing another top predator, possibly Godzilla or some unknown beast that was challenging his authority. And like any tyrant, he had come here to kill his competition and take back his throne. But there was no challenger to beat, just the stadium.

But that didn't stop him. His right head zeroed in on one of the speaker towers, hissing before ripping it from its mount. When the sound didn't stop, he moved to the next set of speakers, and then the next. All three heads worked in tandem, destroying the threat to his power.

Terror had frozen Madison in place. She couldn't think, all she could do was look at him. Elena wasn't any better. She was shaking, a single tear streaking down her face as it looked like she was holding in a scream. Madison could only imagine what Ghidorah was telling her now. She didn't envy her. Madison closed her eyes, trying to focus on anything other than the three-headed horror outside.

"We have to get out of here." Elena whispered.

"But he'll see us -" she whispered back.

Ghidorah's eyes passed over the booth for a brief moment, and Madison almost choked on her own breath.

"He'll know where we are anyway." Elena continued, brows knitting together. "I'm trying to block him out, but he's..he's too strong. I don't know if I can hold him back any longer."

Her comment was punctuated by another rumble, nearly sending them across the room. Breath heaving, Madison turned to the window, shooting the dragon a deadly glare before crawling across the floor just behind the Regulator. But as they began moving, she still heard the ORCA's hum from across the room. Now that the outside speakers were dead, the only source of the signal was a mere foot away from them.

"Wait," she said, reaching for the ORCA from under the table.

Her arms couldn't quite reach, but from beside her, a pair of hands extended forward, picking it up as quietly as possible. Crouching low, they tip-toed toward the exit only to turn around, feeling eyes behind them. Turning around felt like wading through water, but just as she expected, all three heads crowded up behind the window. Glaring at Elena before passing over Madison herself. The middle head's eyes squinted in an insidious leer. Gotcha.

"Oh shit."

Ghidorah reared back, an ear-splitting shriek erupting from his jaws as golden lightning flared through his teeth. They sprinted for the door, the Regulator ushering them through as the windows shattered behind them. Miraculously, it had missed them all, instead frying every piece of equipment within the room. Even then Madison could feel the prickle of electricity dance along her skin. But it didn't stop there - the lightning followed them as they ran, disintegrating what was left of the broadcasting booth as if it were nothing. As she ran, she felt the lightning's heat seep into her bones, it was almost painful, but there was no time to stop. She screamed, the sound barely audible over the cacophony.

They flew down the stairs, taking two or three at a time as Ghidorah ravaged the rest of the stadium, blasting it with his lightning, slashing it with his tails, ripping out chunks of it with his steel-toothed jaws. He was desperate to find them, his new top predators, titans clocking in at something equivalent to an ant. It would've been funny if they weren't about to die.

Then the stairs ahead of them disintegrated in another blaze of lightning, Elena nearly tripping forward had she not grabbed her arm and tugged her backward. They swerved into a row of seats, a spiked tail sweeping just behind them. Everything slowed as the stadium began to collapse in on itself. Madison found herself falling more than she ran the last several yards, tumbling out onto the field itself.

Elena was still grasping the ORCA in her arms, the Regulator helping Madison up from having scuffed her knee on a piece of rubble.

The stadium's exit was right there, less than a yard away. It would've been so easy to just sprint out of sight, duck into another building and hope for the best. But Ghidorah was there waiting for them, all three heads swiveling to focus on each of their three faces. The dragon's heads wore a sadistic grin, teeth glinting in the dim lighting. The malevolence she had seen in each of their eyes was still there, multiplied by a hundred. Only this time it was directed at them, and them alone.

Ghidorah trilled, but to Madison, all she heard was awful laughter.

[splicer02]

Homebrew Item: Belt of Chaotic Potions

NOTE: This has not been tested, I'm planning on changing the effects based on situations.

Item Description: A long leather belt, it can either be worn across the chest as a bandoleer belt, or crossed around the hips. The belt is covered in runes, a skilled magic user can possibly tell that these runes basically mean Chaos and Creation (transmutation). There are four pouches on the belt for potions, they can be slid up and down to position anywhere. In my game, the item was a gift and came with a set of instructions. If you wanted to, you could just have the belt already be full of water vials, and surprise the player after a long rest.

Rules: Obviously you can use this list for whatever, but here is the intended purpose. The Potion Belt has 4 spots for vials. Before a long rest, you put a vial filled with water in each of them. After the long rest, roll on this table 4 times, noting the order (1, 2, 3, 4) so when they go to use one you can keep track of which one it is. The player can attempt to identify the potion, using something like Arcana or maybe even a new skill. Describe the visual details (keep track of that, and hopefully the player keeps track too because they can use that knowledge to identify the potion in the future), smell, etc. I've roughed out this for identification. 1-5 - they have no idea what this potion might do 5-15 - they have a rough idea of if this potion is good or bad (drink or throw it at someone) 15-20 - they know what this potion does

Any vials filled with water can be used in the belt, if the vial is empty or filled with something other than water than nothing happens to that vial. Negative effects have a relevant save DC of 15 (I know there are some written, I came up with this general rule after), and the times in here are kind of arbitrary, make them last however long you think works. Some of them are meant to be thrown, some are meant to be consumed, as the player doesn't know what they do this can lead to some pretty fun results.Most of these are meant for fun, so play around with it based on what suits the situations.

Potions below

Potions (percentile die): 1: Delusion - User believes that the potion bestows a useful magical effect based on the situation. 2: Scales - AC increased by 2 for 1d4 hours, colour matches eye colour 3: Skin Colour Change - 1d6, skin changes colour for 1d4 days      1 - fluorescent pink      2 - green      3 - blue      4 - purple      5 - black with stars      6 - red 4: Liquid Rock - when the liquid is removed from the vial, it turns into a stone 5: Butterflies - when opened, a swarm of butteflies is released 6: Fabric Acid - melts away any clothing it touches 7: Nekovoice - target meows instead of speaking for 1d4 minutes 8: Eyedrops - just.. sterile eyedrops 9: Liquid Wookie - causes hair to sprout wherever it touches 10: Stagger potion - causes loss of balance, disadvantage on dexterity checks for 1d4 minutes 11: Illiteracy - the person forgets how to read and write all languages 12: Spasm potion - any time the target uses an action, roll a d10. On a 1, they twitch and lose the action. This lasts for 1 minute. 13: Fire - ignites on impact, dealing 1d6 damage on first round, ignites flamable material and deals 1d4 if fire continues 14: Shards - deals 1d6 piercing damage, target takes 1d4 damage whenever they use that body part for 1 hour 15: Numbness - Thrown: choose a limb. If a 17-20 is rolled, potion hits that limb and causes numbness, unable to use limb for 1d4 minutes. Lower rolls can hit other parts of body 16: Random drink - roll 1d10      1 - Wine      2 - Rum      3 - Beer      4 - Milk      5 - Tea      6 - Coffee      7 - Hotsauce      8 - Hot Cocoa      9 - Gravy      10- Cordial 17: Bards Brew - the next 3 sentences said must be rhymes 18: Gender - Swaps your gender for 1d4 hours 19: Reset - seemingly has no effect, 1d4 minutes later teleports target back to place where potion was used 20: Minor Healing Potion 21: Illusionary fire - target thinks they are on fire for 1d4 minutes, wisdom save 15DC 22: Attractive - target becomes instantly attractive for 1d4 hours 23: Confetti - explodes in confetti 24: Gravity Water - water falls out upside-down 25: Love Potion - you fall in love with everybody you meet for 1d4 minutes 26: Grass - Grass and flowers grow where this potion touches. Causes existing plants to grow to twice their size rappildy, causing difficult terrain. 27: Amnesia - you forget where you are and why you are there for 1d4 minutes 28: Levitate - you levitate 4 inches above the ground for 1d4 minutes. Movement must be made by pushing or pulling against something. 29: Third Eye - you grow a third eye on your head for 1d4 hours, granting +2 to perception 30: Mutation - you grow an extra toe on each foot and extra finger on each hand for 1d4 hours 31: Hair Colour - same rules as skin colour change 32: Dance - forces the creature to dance for 1d4 minutes 33: Mana - restores 1 first level spell slot - must be used within 1 hour 34: Flight - you gain a flying speed of 10ft but lose your walking speed for 1d4 minutes 35: Drunk - Causes instant drunkeness for 1d4-con hours - disadvantage on dexterity, wisdom, and inteligence, advantage on charisma and strength 36: False Invisibility - causes the belief that they are invisible for 1d4 minutes 37: Tiny Wish - can make 1 wish, will grant the wish on an extremely small scale 38: Slime - when opened, spawns 1d4 baby slimes, non hostile 39: Language - learns one additional language, chosen by the DM, but cannot speak it 40: Jump - Double jump height for 1d4 minutes 41: Speed - double movement speed for 1d4 minutes 42: Smoke - when opened, smoke spews from the bottle for 1d4 minutes, obscuring the area 43: Illusionary Fire Breath - belch fire with the same visual effect as the dragonborn fire breath 44: Bubbles - every time the creature opens its mouth, bubbles come out for. lasts 1d4 minutes 45: Stat Boost - +1 to a random stat for 1d4 minutes 46: Magnetic liquid - causes any metal objects in the area to fly towards the liquid 47: Blood Thinner - causes bleeding damage (1HP per round) from all phisical attacks for 1d4 minutes 48: Random Liquid 1d10      1 - Blood      2 - Oil      3 - Perfume      4 - Ink      5 - Garbage juice      6 - Cooking Oil      7 - Chloroform      8 - Soap      9 - Adhesive      10- False Poison (drinker seems dead for up to 1d4 minutes) 49: Shape change 1d10 for 10 seconds, can communicate telepathically and cast spells, otherwise cannot move. Turn back to normal if they take damage      1 - Mundane Animal      2 - Vegetable      3 - Object      4 - Item of Clothing      5 - Gas      6 - Liquid      7 - Statue      8 - Tree      9 - another player      10- insect 50: Sobriety - instantly become sober 51: Mimicry - can only mimic words and sounds for 1d4 minutes 52: Plant Voice - can only speak to plants for 1d4 minutes, others only hear a creaking sound 53: Hair growth - causes existing hair to grow at a rate of 1ft a minute for 1d4 minutes 54: Age - ages at a rate of 10 years a minute for 1d4 minutes, returns to normal at the end 55: Eye Glow - eyes glow brightly for 1d4 hours, granting darkvision and a disadvantage on stealth checks 56: Nose - nose grows twice as large for 1d4 hours, granting advantage on perception checks related to smell 57: Language Comprehension - Understands all language for 1d4 minutes 58: Random Language - speaks in a language they do not know for 1d4 minutes 59: Inspiration - grants 1d6 inspiration die for 10 minutes 60: Illusionary Size Change - seems to grow twice as large or half as small for 1d4 minutes 61: Susan Storm - turn invisible for 1d4 minutes, does not effect worn clothing or items 62: Gills - grows gills for 1d4 minutes, water breathing but cannot breath air, relieved by drinking water, releases if they suffocate 63: Beard - Immediately grows a waist length beard for 1d4 hours 64: Taste - any food or liquid consumed tastes amazing for 1d4 hours 65: Spider - Spider climb for 1d4 minutes 66: Knowledge - advantage on int checks for 1 hour 67: Identify - instantly identify the next magic item they see 68: Xray vision - clothing is no longer visible to the target for 1d4 minutes 69: Sick - Con save DC15, fail suddenly vomits uncontrollably 70: Egg - Causes feeling of needing to use the bathroom, after 10 minutes feel extreme pain and lay an egg. if kept, egg can hatch into 1d10      1 - Unfertilised      2 - Tiny human baby that ages and dies in 10 minutes, looks exactly like creature that lays the egg      3 - Fully grown adult who tips their hat and walks through the nearest wall      4 - A swarm of insects      5 - 100gp, 25sp, 3cp      6 - another potion (roll on this table)      7 - random miniaturised animal      8 - Random Trinket      9 - Chicken 10- Baby Kenku 71: Fetch - feels the urgent need to chase anything thrown for 1d4 hours, wisdom save dc15 each time they see a thrown object 72: Insects - releases a swarm of harmless but terrifying insects that fly into the nearest creatures face before dispersing 73: Greater Healing 74: Lucky Vomit - painfully vomit money for 1 minute, 1d10gp, 1d10sp, 1d10cp 75: Optimist - everything seems hopeful 76: Pessimist - everything seems terrible 77: Fear - the next item or creature that they see 78: Smile - cannot stop smiling for 1d4 minutes 79: Sad - cannot stop crying for 1d4 minutes 80: Existential Crisis - realises that they are in a game for 1 minute, immediately forget after but are left with a feeling they are being watched 81: Other Amnesia - everyone but the target forgets about their existance unless they are looking at them for 1d4 minutes 82: Spices - 1d10      1 - Garlic      2 - Rosemary      3 - Mint      4 - Nutmeg      5 - Cinnamon      6 - Cloves      7 - Mustard      8 - Ginger      9 - Pepper      10- Salt 83: Food - target feels full and tastes 1d10      1 - Bacon and eggs      2 - tomato and cheese sandwich      3 - salad      4 - fish and chips      5 - buttered corn      6 - hearty stew      7 - dried fruit      8 - candy      9 - fresh bread and butter      10- fried rice 84: Hole - creates a 2 foot wide/deep hole (does not harm living creatures, but can still pass through hole) 85: Silence - mouth disappears for 1d4 minutes, can communicate through telepathy 86: Water walking - walk in water for 1d4 minutes 87: False speak with animals - believe they can talk to animals for 1d4 minutes 88: Mini Wild Magic - roll on the Wild Magic table and create a miniature version of the effect 89: Bloody Tears - blood leeks from eyes for 1d4 minutes 90: Mind Reading - hear creatures thoughts but it is their native language for 1d4 minutes 91: Moustache - you already know what this one does 92: BO -  smell really bad for 1d4 minutes 93: Sneezing - after a lot of build up, it's just a sneeze 94: Rage - Barbarian rage for 1d4 minutes 95: Rot - rots anything it touches (deals 1d4 damage for 1d4 rounds to flesh) 96: Luck - can reroll, must keep second roll 97: False Race Change - appears to become another race for 1d4 hours 98: Breeze - your clothes and hair are ruffled by a wind only you can feel for 1d4 hours 99: Tattoos - your body is covered in black marking following the viens beneath your skin. lasts until you are next healed by magic. 100: Greater Delusion - User believes that the potion bestows a useful magical effect based on the situation, grants 1d10 inspiration

[blue-orb]

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

1. 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚?

Seawater, seafoam, and sweat. All that makes him smell faintly fishy.

2. 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚’𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚?

They’re rough and calloused. His nails are short and clipped down, with little ridges from growing strangely due to him occasionally breaking them in a fight. There’s little scars pock-marked all over his fingers.

3. 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙪𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙮?

For breakfast, he’ll eat eggs and toast and a bit of salad, or maybe pancakes if he feels up to it. For lunch, he’ll usually down a bunch of fish jerky while he works, or maybe three onigiri if someone gets him food. For dinner, he’ll often have fish, rice, soup, and a bit of fruit for deserve.  Snack and treat wise, he likes dried fish, fried chicken, fruit, cucumbers, and traditional snacks like lava crackers and dango. 

4. 𝘿𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚?

Yes! He’s got a deep, rough voice that sounds wonderful. The problem is that he likes to yell his music, usually via sea shanties.

5. 𝘿𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙨?

He picks at the hole in his sleeve. He also likes to chew on stuff, hence the fish jerky thing.

6. 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙪𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 / 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧?

He wears his wetsuit most days, due to the water retaining factor of the neoprene on his gills. When he needs to be more formal, he’ll wear his old uniform (the linen outfit of his RSE incarnation). He has three outfits he cycles around for his contests. The first is a match to Juan’s outfit, the simple nobleman’s wear, though his jacket swaps the white and the blue and he wears an Aqua pin on his ascot. His second costume is a white suit with a petal-edged cape (the back decorated in a traditional silk painting of Jirachi), with parts of his suit covered in armor. His third outfit is a complete suit of armor: he’s only worn this once and immediately stopped wearing it because it was really hot.  In all costumes, he wears the faceplate of his armor like a mask and reattaches his Anchor to its post, thus making it a Mega Trident.

7. 𝙄𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚?  𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝?  𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙨𝙤?

He’s fairly affectionate, but mostly in a casual way. He uses nicknames and physical touch a lot, but it’s rarely with any actual sort of fondness for someone. For example, ‘Scamp’ started off as an insult that gradually became truly fond, once May turned out to be as chill and aggressive as he is. 

8. 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙞𝙣?

9. 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢?

Abso-fucking-lutely. He’s usually really, really loud.  The issue is that he’s very quiet when he swims, so he can really sneak up on people.

Stolen from @ketzerhund​ 

[centtaura]

Day Seven (drowning blue)

A common misconception among the general populace is that merfolk could not drown. Surely, a species that lives and (obviously) breathes underwater from the day they're born until the day they die would be immune to such a fate.

Magical runoff turned their waters purple and black with plague. Worse than pollution, worse than sewage. They call it a genocide, but the truth is, the warlock didn't even -notice- what he'd done, and if he did, he didn't care enough to call it -deliberate-. They were just in the way. The fact that their aquatic metropolis was centuries-old before he showed up on the shore and staked his claim was irrelevant.

He uses their scales for brews and rituals, when he could be bothered to fish their bodies out of the lake.

Land-dwellers never knew much about the merfolk, even when they began to migrate en masse from distant bodies of water to others closer to non-mer civilization. They abandoned their elaborate cities and systems and allowed for societal upheaval all in an effort to preserve their species, and they were met with either disdain or offensive curiosity. They were, before the genocide, detrimentally secretive, and even if one makes an attempt to explain, it's written off as an exaggerated tavern tale.

She remembers, though. She remembers everything. The burning in her amphibian lungs, the rawness of her gills. The gurgling of her friends. The murk, and the fear, and the exodus. Reliving it just to assuage the concerns of some foolish land-dweller is never an option as far as she's concerned. They never believe her, anyway. It's both a tragedy, and an insult.

She knew, even before her kin floated to the surface, dead decades before their time, the sorts of ails that could kill her people. Illness and battle and even the occasional sunstroke (or, as her people called it, "getting fried") weren't unheard of. Isolation and self-sufficiency allowed merfolk to reach almost antediluvian age, and sometimes, they even got old enough to die. Landwalkers, in their insatiable thirst for adventure and discovery, sometimes wandered too far and disappeared, and though the more traditional merfolk that preferred the darkness of the deep scoffed at them, funerals were still held.

There were no funerals for her people. There was no time. All there was was urgency, and escape.

She flinches whenever she hears his name, whether it be in casual conversation or simply more news on whatever he was up to. Who did he curse this time? What heroes were never to be heard from again? What was the bounty on his head now? She doesn't care. She is a forced landwalker, and all her friends are dead.

She knows what color her skin would turn, because she watched her brothers and sisters shift hue as they struggled to breathe, and choked, and gasped. She herself almost didn't make it out alive, and even now, she doesn't think she ought to have survived. She doesn't deserve to breathe, when those stronger than herself no longer will.

The Magus poisons everything he touches. The air, water, and earth around him are toxic. -He- is toxic. She remembers the taste of dark magic, filling her chest and searing her throat, blinded by water turned to acid. Her vision is still not quite right. Her body stings with memory. Her history fades with every moment, and she wishes the land-dwellers could have seen her sprawling, extravagant home before it became a death trap.

She doesn't even want revenge anymore. She just wants peace. She wants to forget.

Meriah remembers what it felt like to drown.

[haidas-anxiety]

Hello From Niagara Falls - Exploring the Clifton Hills Entertainment Area & Doing A Little Gambling

The previous morning my last entire day in Niagara Falls, Ontario, had shown up. Following a stuffed calendar the day preceding that had incorporated a magnificent introduction at the Max Theater, my very close experience with the Great Falls at the Journey Behind the Falls and an engaging show at the Oh Canada Eh? Supper Theater, I prepared for another entire day of investigations in Niagara Falls  188xoso.com I previously got an incredible beginning to the day when Kevin Kirkpatrick, the gourmet cook and co-proprietor of Kirkpatrick Manor, arranged a totally delightful breakfast for me: after a scrumptious new natural product platter with yogurt and newly made banana bread I devoured "breakfast ravioli", one of Kevin's special culinary creations. This light yet scrumptious breakfast dish highlights fried eggs, bacon and old cheddar encompassed by daintily turned out pasta and a home made pureed tomatoes with garlic, white wine and leeks. Kevin, with his gregarious and active way, plunked down with me and kept me engaged with stories from his global neighborliness experiences in France when he and spouse Nance were dealing with an enormous chalet in the French Alps.

After this incredible beginning I hurried out to return my rental vehicle to Budget Rent-A-Car since my better half was rolling in from Toronto to go along with me in Niagara Falls. In spite of the fact that I had traveled just 78 kilometers in two days, my little Toyota Yaris had served me incredibly well in getting around Niagara Falls at a sensible cost.

On this radiant yet freezing day we began with a decent stroll at the foot of Clifton Hill, walking westwards along the Niagara Parkway towards the Canadian Horshehoe Falls. A splendid blue sky washed the Niagara River in brilliant light, and a portion of the metal railings close to the walkway were canvassed in shimmering ice developments from the fog that is shaped by the Horseshoe Falls. Many different vacationers were additionally going for an early afternoon stroll and were snapping photos of their loved ones against the scenery of the powerful Niagara Falls.

Our genuine goal for now was the Clifton Hill zone - Niagara Fall's principle vacationer promenade. Clifton Hill, the road, reaches out from the Niagara Parkway close to the Niagara River to Victoria Avenue on head of the slope and highlights many cafés, blessing shops, inexpensive food outlets, inns and different attractions, for example, frequented houses, wax historical centers and other traveler diversion. This famous scam is regularly stuffed to the gills with individuals walking around and down, absorbing the rowdy festival climate of this territory.

Clifton Hill has a long-standing history as a diversion territory: lodgings have been in presence here since the late 1800s. During the 1920s this zone formed into a famous vacationer goal and a few extra hotels and traveler camps were developed close by throughout the following not many decades. Since the 1960s a few historical centers have been manufactured, which incorporate the Houdini Hall of Fame, the Hollywood Wax Museum, the House of Frankenstein, the Guinness World Records Museum, Ripley's Believe It Or Not and a few others.

We chose to make our first stop at the Niagara SkyWheel, an as of late built mammoth ferris wheel whose 42 atmosphere controlled gondolas give an amazing perspective over all the principle attractions of Niagara Falls. During the brief ride on this 53 meter high ferris wheel we had a glorious view over the Canadian and American Falls just as over the various attractions and the local locations of Niagara Falls. Luckily, the climate was ideal for this experience and our 360 degree all encompassing perspective stretched out for some miles.

In view of the lively climate we chose to dodge inside and headed into the Guinness World Records Museum. Once in the past called the Guinness Book of World Records, this establishment has a beautiful history: the overseeing executive of the celebrated Guinness Brewery in Ireland happened to ask himself during a chasing party in 1951 which fledgling was quicker - a grouse or a brilliant plover? Incapable to discover a response to this inquiry in reference books, he figured that there would need to be a large number of different inquiries that couldn't be settled by counseling a reference book and chose to make a book to gracefully replies to these kinds of inquiries.

The book turned into a short-term shock hit and in the end a refreshed rendition including new records was distributed on a yearly premise and has advanced from a book overwhelming reference book into a vivid, lavishly delineated distribution. Lately a few little exhibition halls have been made in areas, for example, Tokyo, San Francisco, Hollywood, Atlantic City, Myrtle Beach and Copenhagen to feature essential, and in some cases strange, world records. The area in Niagara Falls highlights photographs and depictions of numerous instances of world records including such interests as the world's tallest man and the world's littlest lady.

We investigated the numerous intelligent presentations that include world records in the circles of amusement, craftsmanship, writing and game. Cataclysmic events and logical accomplishments are secured also. A portion of the records in plain view really boggle the brain and it makes you wonder who has the opportunity to think of a portion of these somewhat unique thoughts for world records, and who may have the opportunity to execute those thoughts. Pictures of record holders, for example, the man with the world's longest ear hairs (4 inches!) were somewhat unnerving, to be completely forthright.

Our next goal highlighted comparatively unique human eats: Ripley's Believe It or Not!, worked to look loke a crumbled Empire State Building with King Kong remaining at the top, is a genuine assortment of human peculiarities. Robert LeRoy Ripley (1893 to 1949) was an illustrator, business person and beginner anthropologist whose paper board arrangement included odd yet verified realities from everywhere throughout the world. Ripley voyaged a ton and turned into an authority of strange things from a wide range of outlandish goals around the world. From 1929 onwards Robert Ripley entranced perusers of seventeen national papers with his Believe It Or Not coordinated paper board arrangement. At the tallness of his ubiquity he was said to have gotten more mail than the American president. Ripley turned into a genuine media goliath of his time and ventured into radio and early TV before his passing of a coronary episode in 1949.

At the Niagara Falls Ripley's Believe It or Not! we proceeded with our investigation of abnormal and fascinating things and were welcomed immediately by a three-dimensional figure of the world's biggest lady. Genuine peculiarities, for example, vampire slaughtering units, an assortment of shocking yet entertaining headstones, two-headed piglets and an assortment of life-sized optical figments shipped us into the place where there is the strange and odd. To balance the assortment of peculiarities, Ripley's additionally works a Moving Theater and Louis Tussaud's Waxworks in Niagara Falls.

After these investigations of the peculiar and bizarre we chose to go to our comfortable informal lodging, the Kilpatrick Manor B&B. Chilled deep down we chose to unwind on the happy with jumbo bed, turn on the chimney, watch a touch of TV and warm up under the delicate cotton covers. A rich shower in the multi-stream Neptune shower assisted with heating up my solidified bones. Presently I comprehended what the proprietor Kevin Kilpatrick was alluding to when he disclosed to me that visitors simply prefer to "home" at their quaint little inn. It was to be sure an especially happy with loosening up condition that prepared us for our last night in Niagara Falls.

We chose to eat at the Frontier Grillhouse which is found nearby the Best Western Fireside Hotel with an incredible view neglecting the Niagara River. This cutting edge easygoing eatery includes a broad menu with an assortment of newly arranged breakfast dishes or an everything you-can-have breakfast. The supper menu has an enormous choice of tidbits, soups and plates of mixed greens and a wide scope of flame broiled dishes including prime rib, New York striploin, Filet Mignon, T-bone steaks. Pastas, fish and sweets balance the contribution at the Frontier Grillhouse. I making the most of my steaming hot French onion soup and garlicky escargots with gratinated mozzarella while my significant other rewarded himself to a liberal plate of Fettucine Alfredo. We were unable to have included treat regardless of whether we had needed to.

We could have loose for considerably longer at the Frontier Grillhouse, however one more experience was sitting tight for us: a touch of betting at the Fallsview Casino Resort. Niagara Falls has for quite some time been a mainstream goal for betting. On the Ontario side there are two enormous club: Casino Niagara, situated in the Clifton Hill region, and the as of late opened Fallsview Casino Resort which has been luring speculators since 2004. As we had just investigated Clifton Hill, we chose to visit the Fallsview Casino which is a great lodging, shopping, gaming and amusement complex situated on a slope with an astonishing perspective on the glorious Canadian Horseshoe Falls.

The whole perplexing is awesome - with a 100,000 square foot gaming floor it dazzles even the most experienced gambling club goer. Since it was our first time here and neither one of us is a gambling club standard, we were amazed by the apparently endless gaming floor which highlights 3000 gaming machines and 150 table games. Wherever lights are flickering and the toll like hints of the gaming machines fill the air. My significant other is a significant gifted side interest poker player, and he looked at the astonishing exhibit of table games, which incorporate poker games like Let It Ride and Caribbean Stud. Other table games incorporate Baccarat, Blackjack, Craps, Roulette and Spanish 21 just as progressively outlandish assortments, for example, the old Chinese Sic Bo round of dice, Pai Gow Tiles - a Chinese rendition of dominoes, and Pai Gow Poker which consolidates components Asian Pai Gow and Western-style poker.

I chose to simply watch the activity and sit back as my significant other took a stab at various kinds of poker. Woman Luck was sparkling on him for some time, however as the night advanced he gave ba

[smashbuddies]

Souvenirs by the Salty Sea: Pt. 3

Sunlight glinted off the pebble in Daniel’s hands. Sparkling and shimmering, it seemed like a decent gift to give in return. And it was a nice shade of purple too. He figured Snail liked that color, since that’s what their precious surfboard was, and all. At least, he hoped they did.

His fin swished through the water. The gift Snail had given him was so refined. Clearly hard work and care was put into making it. And all he could do was get them a stupid pebble.

But… He looked high and low for it. Tossing thousands aside until he found a really good one. That had to count for something, right?

“Hey, fish-stick!”

Daniel turned his head toward Snail and gave them frustrated pout. “My name’s Daniel. You know that.”

They stuck their tongue out at him and plopped down, laying their surfboard next to them. “It’s a nickname. Unless it’s super offensive, I wanna keep calling you that.”

He huffed and contemplated throwing the pebble back into the ocean. “Please, just use my actual name.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Something told him that they wouldn’t really think about it. But he lingered on that for only a moment, before holding out the pebble to Snail. “Here, I got this for you.”

They gingerly plucked it from his fingers and looked it over, nose scrunched up. “...It’s a rock.”

His heart sank. “If you don’t like it,” he spat out, keeping his hand outstretched so they could return it, “then just hand it over. I’ll throw it away.”

“No, I like it,” they assured him, face growing just a tad softer. “I’ll put it on my shelf at home. So it’ll stay safe.”

He let his hand fall to his side and took a deep breath. “Okay. Good. I spent hours looking for a decent one, so you better damn well appreciate it.”

Snail let out a snort and put the pebble in their pocket. “I will, jeez.”

Well, now he kind of felt like jerk. After a long moment of not knowing what to say, he pointed at Snail’s surfboard and mumbled, “So are you gonna surf today?”

“Huh? Oh. No,” they answered just before giving him a grin. “You are.”

He only gave them a blank look. Were they really that stupid, or did they just keep forgetting that he didn’t have legs? Honestly, he was leaning more toward the former with each passing day.

“Look,” they insisted, probably reading his face easily, “you won’t be able to do all the cool shit I do, but like… You can still sit on the board and enjoy some of the waves. I’ll make sure you stay balanced and shit.” Their cheeks grew a little pink and they looked away. “I mean, if you want to. I just thought it would be fun.”

That was… Actually pretty sweet. He felt his own blush creeping up his face. “I’d love that, actually. But won’t someone see us?”

They instantly perked up and gave him a smile that made his heart beat a little faster. “No, there’s not a lot of people here today. We’ll be fine as long as we don’t get too close to the shore.”

Well… If they were sure, then maybe he could give it a shot.

Once he agreed to their idea, they got up and waded out until they were waist-deep in water. Daniel watched them, head tilted curiously, until he realized that maybe he should follow suit. And he did, wondering how he’d be able to get on the board.

Snail answered his unspoken question by just lifting him up out of the water- which startled him so much he let out a gasp and looped his arms around their neck- and sitting him down right on the board. Then they smoothly slid their hands down so they could hold onto the board, leaving almost-pleasant goosebumps across his skin.

“Hey, uh,” they said after a tense moment, “you can let go of me now.”

His hold on them only tightened. “I don’t want to. I might fall.”

“Really? You live in the water. What’s the big deal?”

“I’ll look like a damn fool in front of you!” he snapped, face growing hot. “That’s the ‘big deal’!”

They blinked, taken aback. Then a grin slipped onto their face. “So you wanna impress me, huh? Sounds like someone has a crush.”

How dare they. Immediately he let go and began to pout with crossed arms. “Like I’d ever have a crush on a human. That’s just a stupid fantasy you all have.”

They began to push the board out deeper. “Oh yeah?” Something seemed odd about their tone. “What makes you say that?”

“All the other people I saved would say stupid shit if they found out about, you know,” he muttered bitterly, waving a hand to his fin. “Like, ‘oh, will love’s true kiss turn you human? How about we try?’ Or ‘wow, this is just like the movies! Now I’ll have my own mermaid!’ As if I’m some pet to keep and spruce up their pathetic lives.”

They were quiet for a moment. “I didn’t… Give off that impression or anything, did I?”

He glanced back at them. They were frowning and worrying their lip with their teeth. Well, best to be honest, right?

“Can’t say that you did. You were a jerk, but not… Objectifying.”

No more words were said after that. Their silence was filled by the gentle roll of the waves and the caw of seagulls above. After a little but Snail stopped and kept the board arm’s length away.

“Well, here you go,” they announced rather anti-climatically. “Hope you have fun surfing.”

Their grip on the board was loose enough for the waves to push and pull it as they pleased. Daniel looked out to the horizon, pointedly ignoring the beach and the few stragglers on it. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and let his imagination begin to wander.

Even if he had legs, he didn’t think he’d be able to do everything Snail could. But being able to just sit on a board and kick his feet through the water seemed nice. Have the option to go back to land, where he could walk and feel the warm sand beneath him. Let the sun beat down on his skin without worrying if he’d dry out and die. Go get french fries all on his own. Be able to look Snail in the eye and talk to them without having to look up.

“Someone’s getting excited.”

He snapped back to reality, and finally felt the splashes of water being sent up by his flapping fin. Flushing, he put his hands firmly on his tail to try and calm himself down. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I think it’s cute.” They blanched for a moment, then quickly asked, “Uh, anyway, did you know your face gets all blue sometimes? Is that, like, you blushing, or what?”

“Yeah, it is,” he huffed out. “Just like how your face gets all red. Got any other questions about my anatomy you wanna ask?”

“Yeah, actually,” they say, completely unaware of his biting tone. “How do you breath underwater? Is it just… Mermaid magic?”

Mermaid magic? Really?

Rolling his eyes, he pushed his hair back and tilted his head to show off the gills on his neck. “This is how I breath underwater. You’re really unobservant, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” He traced a pattern on Snail’s surfboard, feeling just a little bit self-conscious. “Anything else? Or are you done asking me invasive questions about my body?”

“Uh…” Snail so intelligently said. If only he could see the lone cog turning in their head. “I still kinda wanna know where your dick is.”

He got tense. But this was Snail. They said stupid things sometimes. So with a bit of a forced laugh, he sassed them a little. “Maybe I’ll tell you if you get me a really good offering sometime.”

Their eyes widened just a bit. Did they really think he was gonna tell them? “Yeah, dude, sure.”

Ugh, he had half a mind to just dive headfirst into the ocean and go home. But he stayed, despite how annoying they were. And really, he didn’t regret it like he thought he would, because the two of them spent the rest of the afternoon just floating there in peace.

As soon as Daniel rose up from the water, eager to greet Snail who had actually arrived first, he knew something was wrong. His shoulders and face stung, like he’d been caught in a swarm of jellyfish. Snail must’ve noticed his wince, because they scrambled to their feet and waded out to him.

“Something wrong?” they asked, putting an arm around his shoulder.

Yelping, he pulled away from them and let himself sink down into the cool water. It soothed him every inch it touched, but he kept his head up so he could still talk to Snail.

“Oh shit,” they muttered with a horrified look on their face. “You’re so fucking sunburnt.”

“Sunburnt?” A million horrible thoughts raced through his mind. He whimpered and hugged himself. “If I’m dying, then I swear I’m bringing you down with me.”

“You’re not dying,” they said with a huff. Or was that a laugh? “Let me go get some aloe, I’ll be right back.”

Daniel wanted to beg them to just stay with him. But he trusted them enough to come back before he died. So he watched them leave the little alcove, and let himself sit completely in the ocean’s cool and gentle embrace while he waited for their return.

As soon as he saw them come back, he popped out of the water and watched them eagerly. They were holding a… What was the word? Those little things he found by his home a lot. Bottles, yes, a bottle. Was that the aloe?

“I’m gonna need you to come out of the water for a sec,” they said, showing off the aloe to him. “Just so I can put this on you.”

“No,” he firmly refused, ducking down just a bit. “The air hurts.”

“It’ll keep hurting for a long time unless you use the aloe,” they argued back with a stern look. “C’mon, fish-stick, don’t make me pick you up and carry your ass over here.”

He bristled and gave them a hard glare. “I’d like to see you try.”

After a brief, yet tense staring contest, Snail shrugged and dropped the aloe. Then they rushed out and snagged him before he could think of swimming away. Sure enough, he seemed almost effortless to carry for them, and they managed to get him on the dry sand without any issues. Although he could’ve made it hard by struggling, but really, that would just aggravate his already hurting skin.

Crossing his arms, he let out a defeated huff and swished his fin in disdain. “You’re a jerk.”

“Uh-huh,” they said, sounding like they didn’t even hear him as they squirted some of the aloe onto their hands. “This is gonna be really cold at first, okay?”

After bracing himself, he nodded. As soon as the aloe touched his skin, he relaxed and let out a pleased hum. It actually felt really nice. Even better than the ocean. While Snail gently rubbed the aloe into his skin, he found himself craving… Just a bit more. But more what? Aloe? Or did he want Snail’s touch?

Either way, he let out bit of a whine as they pulled back.

“Okay, that should take care of your shoulders,” they said, holding the bottle out to him. “You wanna do your face?”

No. But he swallowed down his demand for them to do it and took the bottle. Boy, did the aloe feel a lot weirder on his hands than on his shoulders. It was like… Holdable water. If that made sense. Some sort of cross between liquid and solid. He poked at the aloe sitting in his palm, then asked, “What’s this made of?”

“Plants?” they answered with a thoughtful frown. “At least, I think so.”

“Humans use plants for a lot of things, huh?”

“Well, when the whole world’s covered in ‘em, you kinda have to.”

The whole world? That seemed a little hard to believe. Still, he began to put the aloe on his stinging face, finding that it wasn’t nearly as pleasant as when Snail did it.

Once he was all done, he grimaced at the stickiness left on his hands. “I hate this. If I get sunburnt again, you’re doing all of it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” They waved him off, and snagged the bottle back from him. “Whatever you say, your highness.”

That certainly sounded a lot better than fish-stick. He beamed, until he remembered something very, very important.

“You never got me the food you promised.”

They blinked at him. “What?”

“The day before yesterday, you said you’d ‘get some food tomorrow’,” he explained, frowning. “But you never did. And I’m hungry now, so…”

“You want me to go get you something?” they asked after letting out an exasperated sigh. “What am I, your servant?”

He didn’t answer that, instead choosing to return that with a question of his own, “Are you gonna get me something, or not?”

Despite their not-so-great attitude, they still got up and left. But then he realized that he was stranded on land, with no one to help him get back to the water.

Damn it.

It was a struggle, but he did manage to scoot and wiggle his way into the ocean. Just a tad exhausted, he let himself lie face down, so it could easily pass over his gills. And maybe his eyes drifted shut. But it would be for a moment. Promise.

Well, that moment turned into who knows how long, because he felt himself being awakened by a hand on his back. He gasped and sat right up, meeting eyes with a very worried Snail.

“Fuck, I thought you were dead!” They ran a hand through their hair. “Didn’t you hear me calling out to you?”

“No,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I was napping. Got tired after dragging myself back to the water.”

They huffed, then shoved something into his hands. “Anyway, I got you the best human food there is. So eat up.”

He looked it over, nose scrunching because really, this didn’t all that appetizing. “What is it? And what’s it made of? What makes it the best?”

“It’s a burger,” they answered, already digging into one of their own, “it’s made of beef, uhhh, cow. Meat- whatever. And it’s delicious. So just try it, I promise you’ll love it.”

Meat. Like fish. Okay, that sounded pretty good. He held the burger in his hands, extra carefully so nothing would slip out, and took a huge bite.

Disgusting. He really wanted to spit it out. But Snail was looking at him all hopeful, and he just couldn’t bring himself to openly hate on something they held in such high regard. So he managed to swallow it down and give them a huge, very strained grin.

“Delicious.”

Snail immediately brightened, and he almost swooned from that smile on their face. “Hell yeah, I knew you’d love it.”

He couldn’t let them know he actually hated it with his entire being. So he suffered through the whole thing, only finding relief when he had eaten every last bite of the damn burger. Snail had long since finished theirs, and had been chattering on about anything and everything that came to mind. He wanted to listen, really, but he had to focus on not throwing up.

But his stomach felt heavy. And just… Gross. He wanted to curl up and take a nap for at least a decade. Or the rest of eternity. Either one sounded fine.

“You okay?” they asked, leaning close to him with a concerned look on their face. “You don’t look too hot.”

“I feel sick,” he admitted with a pained groan. “Maybe eating that whole thing wasn’t… The best idea.”

“Son of a bitch,” they muttered under their breath. “Next time you can just eat half or something.”

Next time. There couldn’t be a next time for this torment.

“Actually,” he said, shame curling up in his chest, “if you could just… Never get me one of those again, that would be great.”

Their face dropped. “But didn’t you like it?”

Oh no. They were going to hate him. Because his stupid mermaid sense of taste and his weak mermaid stomach couldn’t handle their refined human food. It was too late to go back to lying now, so he’d just have to face the consequences.

“Well,” he started off slowly. How could he put this lightly? “It was one of the worst things I’ve ever had.”

They narrowed their eyes at him. “...Then why’d you eat it?”

He sighed. “You said it was the best human food, and I just didn’t want to offend you or something. Besides, you were all happy when I said I liked it, so…”

So what? He didn’t know. But he hoped Snail wouldn’t be too mad at him.

To his surprise, they laughed and hooked an arm around his waist. “Wow. And you’re still in denial about having a crush on me, huh?”

Ugh. This again.

“Shut up!” he snapped, probably not helping his case. “I already told you, I’d never have a crush on a human! I only think of you as a friend!”

“A friend?” He did not like their sly tone. Or that grin. “That’s a step-up from ‘random stranger whose life you saved’. Soon you’ll be fawning all over me. Even if I am just a human.”

Like he’d dignify that. He crossed his arms and pointedly turned away from them with a pout. Unfortunately, that only made them laugh.

[onlymorelove]

Fic: I Barely Knew I had Skin Before I Met You (4/4)

Title: I Barely Knew I had Skin Before I Met You (4/4) Fandom: Timeless Relationship: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston/Wyatt Logan Summary: Sometimes love is found in unexpected combinations. Lucy wakes in the middle of the night to find one less man than there should be in her bed. Notes: This also takes place in the same universe as Your Hands Can Heal; Your Hands Can Bruise and Baby, I’m a house on fire (and I want to keep burning). These stories are all set sometime in the future, when Lucy, Garcia, and Wyatt are in a polyfidelitous relationship. Translation: the three of them are romantically involved and are faithful to each other. They also live together. Rating: T Warning: Nothing graphic, but don’t read if you object to the idea of three adults being romantically involved.

Read under the cut, on AO3, or at FF.net.

@extasiswings , @qqueenofhades , @grey-haven , and @gwennieliz , thank you for your friendship, and for letting me know you were interested in this story and this very-non-canon ‘ship. If at least one of you hadn’t spoken up, I don’t know if I would have posted anything after the first chapter. I’d have written more, but it probably would have languished on Google Docs.*hugs you all*

@nevergrowupnevergrowupnotme Thanks for your interest; here’s Part 4 of the story. :)

If you read this, thanks. Feedback is treasured; constructive criticism is welcome.

[Part 1]    [Part 2]    [Part 3]

"I hope you find someone who knows how to love you when you are sad."

- Nikita Gill

"Can we see it?" Wyatt scratched the corner of his mouth. "I mean the drawing Iris made for you."

"I…" Deep creases bloomed on Garcia's forehead, and Lucy felt a bolt of certainty that he would refuse. He moistened his lips, and the gesture was so precious to her in its familiarity that her stomach curled in an odd little dip. "Yes. It's in my wallet," he finally answered, after a brief pause. At this additional glimpse of vulnerability he'd allowed her and Wyatt to see, a swell of gratitude and tenderness washed over Lucy. "It's nothing exceptional. Just a child's drawing. But if you're sure you want to see it…?"

Wyatt's blue eyes softened as he gazed at Garcia without blinking. "I'm sure."

Garcia's chair clawed at the kitchen floor as he rose. Lucy's regard lingered on his back as he left the kitchen. She knew it was only her imagination—a trick of the light, perhaps—but his tall, rangy frame seemed less upright, more stooped than usual: Atlas, supporting the weight of the boundless sky on his broad shoulders.

Wyatt cleared his throat, drawing Lucy's attention. A smile brimming with wistfulness curved his lips and lifted his cheeks. "What makes you put up with either of us, Lucy?"

Lucy stroked her chin and furrowed her brow, pretending to consider his question with utmost seriousness. Because you two are my home. "Honestly, the sex," she said, delivering the quip in a crisp, champagne-dry tone she had probably picked up from Garcia.

Wyatt's eyes widened in surprise. Then he threw back his head and laughed, loose-limbed and easy, exposing the graceful lines of his throat. He shone so brightly it was like staring at the sun; she had to look away. When their gazes meshed again, Wyatt grinned, shaking his head fondly. Lucy just flashed him a wink.

A minute later Garcia returned. His eyes tracked from Wyatt to Lucy, a speculative expression unfurling on his face as he took in Wyatt's wolfish grin and the mischief still scrawled on Lucy's face. "I missed something."

"Nope," said Wyatt, "nothing important."

Lucy merely shrugged, attempting to look innocent.

Garcia clicked his tongue and shook his head, skepticism flaring in his narrow gaze. "You're both terrible liars, but I'll let it go for the moment." He laid a small rectangle of folded paper on the table in front of Wyatt. "Here you go."

All traces of laughter fled from Wyatt's face, leaving it somber. He cocked his head, a question gleaming in his light eyes.

"Yes." Garcia nodded. "You can look at it."

Wyatt unfolded the paper with great care, fingers moving slowly until it lay spread open on the table.

Lucy scooted her chair closer to Wyatt's so she could see the drawing more clearly. The paper seemed thinner and more delicate along its creases, though it hadn't torn yet. It was just as Garcia had described it, three crayon mermaids done in bold, broad lines, obviously drawn by a child's hand. All wore similar lopsided smiles. One had short, rainbow-colored hair, while the other two had long hair with flippy, upturned ends.

Nothing exceptional, as Garcia had said.

But to look at the naked lines of Garcia Flynn's face while he watched one of his lovers stroke the colorful page, was to know that this simple drawing was his heart laid bare.

"Thanks for showing it to us, Flynn," Wyatt said. "It's...Well, 'beautiful' doesn't seem like the right word, but it's all I've got. I get why you kept it."

"It's all I have left of her," Garcia said in a voice like cold ash, both hands gripping the edge of the kitchen table. The significance of the day, combined with the remembrances they'd each shared had left Garcia uncharacteristically shaky. The sun's hot kiss on the glacier of his grief had started the melting process; now he was left mopping up all the water.

"We know." Wyatt tilted a look at Lucy. Sighing, he stood and settled his hand on Garcia's back, sliding it down and then back up again in a hypnotic motion, gentling Garcia like he was a skittish animal. Which he was.

When Flynn finally eased his white-knuckle grip on the table, Wyatt squeezed his shoulder. "Better?"

Garcia only nodded in answer.

"Good." With a final pat on Flynn's back, Wyatt walked away. "I've got something for you guys," he called over his shoulder.

Collapsing into one of the kitchen chairs, Garcia closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. Lucy got up from her seat and stood behind him. With her arms curled around his shoulders, she rested her chin on his dark hair. "I'm proud of you, you know," she said.

"Proud? Why?" he asked in a smoky rumble. His warm, slim fingers slotted into the spaces between hers.

"Because you talked about them, and I know that was difficult for you. Because you showed us Iris' drawing."

"And that's important to you."

"It's important to me that we know you," Lucy said, correcting him lightly. "That we all know each other," she added. "Iris and Lorena are a part of who you are. Just like Amy's a part of me, and Jessica's a part of Wyatt."

"Are you so certain I'm a person worth knowing, my Lucy?"

Lucy blinked and dipped her head, nose brushing Garcia's silky hair as she feathered a kiss to the soft hollow behind his ear. He shivered in her hold, causing her lips to fold in a secret smile.

"Yes, my Garcia, I am."

When Wyatt returned, Lucy and Garcia sat side by side, hands linked. With a smile warming his face, he laid something on the table in front of his lovers. Lucy laughed in delight and released Garcia's hand, reaching out and stroking a finger over the matte silver picture frame Wyatt had brought with him. "Where did you get this?" she asked, tipping her chin toward Wyatt.

Wyatt's shoulders rose and fell in a lazy shrug. "Jiya took it a few months ago. I just blew it up."

The frame held an enlarged photograph of three of them sitting at a black restaurant table, clutching their stomachs and making ridiculous faces. Colorful lanterns dangled from the ceiling, and baskets of spring rolls and fried sticky rice decorated the table. They'd had dim sum for Sunday brunch at Great East, stuffing themselves with baked pork buns, shrimp dumplings, and steamed chicken feet, though Lucy hadn't been adventurous enough to eat the latter. Jiya had snapped the picture near the end of their meal, when they were too full to do anything but be silly.

"I love it," Lucy said. "It's a great picture. Thanks, Wyatt."

"Yes, thank you, Wyatt," said Garcia. "Where should we put it?"

Wyatt cracked his knuckles, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "Actually, I was thinking that we could find another frame for the picture of us. Maybe we put Iris' drawing in this frame instead. You know, where we can all see it. But if you don't want to, Flynn..." He rubbed his hands together briskly. "You know what, just forget I said anything."

"No. No," Garcia said, and Lucy was surprised at the vehemence in his voice. He shook his head, worrying his lower lip as he stood and moved toward Wyatt. "Just…" His hands lifted in a signal for Wyatt to stop. "Give me a minute."

"OK."

His hands flexed, then fisted at his side. "I don't want to forget this." He spoke the words so quietly Lucy had to concentrate to make them out. "I don't want to forget your kindness." His head tipped down, and his arms folded across his chest. "But I'm not good at this," he said, voice rising with his frustration. "I don't know what to say. I just…" He shrugged, voice trailing off. But he crossed the remaining distance to Wyatt, hands reaching until they found a home on either side of the other man's face. His hair, dark as a raven's wing, fell forward as he leaned down toward Wyatt, who stood several inches shorter. Their lips finally met, in a kiss slow and sweet, and Lucy exhaled.

Wyatt's hands slid over Garcia's back, pulling him closer. Garcia made a low noise in his throat, his fingers drifting into Wyatt's hair before he stepped back. "Thank you, dušo moja. "

"You're welcome," Wyatt replied, and though it was only two words, his face spoke many more. "You called Lucy that earlier, and now me. But you still haven't told us what it means. How do we know you're not cussing us out in Croatian?"

One of Garcia's eyebrows arched. "Does it sound like I'm cursing at you?"

"I don't know," Wyatt said with an impish grin. "You tell us."

"You're not going to let this go, are you, Logan?"

Wyatt's grin widened. "Not a chance, Flynn."

Sighing, Garcia folded his hands together. "My soul," he said, his tone lofty. "That's what dušo moja means."

"Huh. So what you're saying is, you called me and Lucy your soul."

"Mmhmm."

"So do you still want us to let you walk away, so we can be happy without you and your blackened soul, Lucifer?”

"I'm old, Logan. And selfish. Too selfish to let either of you go if you're foolish enough to keep me. Though I've learned I can get used to living without anyone, I don't want to learn to live without you both."

"Oh thank god. Now can we please go back to bed?"

"I'm not sure I can fall back asleep now, Wyatt."

"An orgasm should take care of that."

"Are you offering to give me one?"

"You did call me your soul. I figure it's the least I can do. I'll blow you, if you ever stop talking, Flynn. You'll come so hard you'll see stars, and then we can all pass out for a couple hours."

"You do say the sweetest things, Wyatt Logan."

Lucy laughed, trailing her boys back up the stairs to their bedroom.

A/N: I'd love to hear your thoughts, if you feel like sharing them. :)

[dunmerofskyrim]

9

In Simra’s mind the days lined up. They passed by, lined off and behind, becoming hazy — at least as hazy as his sober memories ever grew with time. But the plains of the Northern Deshaan were good for that. Nothing to stand out save what did, and what did loomed large as idols in amongst that ocean of nothing.

In the landscape, a standing tree, or snarl of scrubland shrubbery. A patch of brown groundwater that mirrored the sky in sepia. In the distance once, a shining line in the afternoon sun: the arm of a stream bending tribute to the River Dathan. Crossing the latter would mark their halfway point. They’d find it either way, but opted towards the stream, to follow it, so at least they’d have fresh water until they did.

And that was good.

It meant no thirst.

It meant fish sometimes that Tammunei caught, sitting by the streamside and just waiting, humming at intervals, as the minnow-skinny smallfry came to the shallows to be snatched up into an open-mouthed pot. They would’ve been better dredged in flour and fried – the crunch of their tiny bones indistinct from the crunch of the golden crumb on them; Simra had had them that way in Narsis, and enjoyed them pretty well – but as soups with forage-greens and lengths of succulent reed they staved off hunger.

It meant having a kind of road to guide them. The stream always by them, to judge progress, keep their bearings.

It meant being able to steal away and wash. Face, hands, hair, with leech-lily scented soap, til at least the parts of him the sky and wind saw felt scoured clean. For the rest he had his cantrips, and water to cast them with.

In two batches, Simra had laundered his clothes in Bodram. Or rather he’d had them laundered for him. And that was something new. An expensive novelty to which he’d like to get better used.

A shirt in morning-blue scribsilk, folding diagonal across the breast to fasten in a line of brass buttons. Two were crescent-shaped, one was missing, and replaced with a toggle of polished wood. Band collar, trim shoulders, both embroidered in dark thread with a beehive pattern of hexagons. Launder it as he might, fond and sour memories both clung to it like a lingering scent. He’d bought it in Suran, all but four years ago.

Longer years still hung on his woollen Riftfolk tunic, and yet it held out. Well-made, but it ought to’ve been for the price — or how steep it had seemed at the time. Beasts ran in black-stitched thread around its bottom hem; red-stitched curls of foliage and flower petals around its wide deep collar. A freckling of faded red-brown stains still dappled its front after all this time. He wore it over the other, loose fit over slim, layered against the cold.

Deep-brown leggings too, close-cut and made from kreshwave. The fabric was combed til soft and supple, but teeth-pulling-hard to tear, and in trousers that was a blessing. At the back, attached at the waist, was a kind of train made from netch-leather. Hanging down like coat-tails it could flutter at the backs of his knees, but these days he wore it in front, buttoned around his hips in a lopsided kilt.

Body clean, they all kept mostly clean too, save for the dust. Those and the others. Ragpicker’s patchwork scarf. The once-gift of his goatskin mantle, napped smooth with wear and age and rain. Strange, but his jacket – his sister’s jacket – seemed to keep clean by itself, worn between his capelike mantle and shirts.

His boots were the exception, but weren’t they always? How many pairs had he had down the years? Ruined? Things were simpler – cheaper – before he wore shoes, but by now there was no going back, was there? These ones were two-toed native-made things, made from guar-leather and rising to just over the knee. There they led into a pair of quilted-leather kneepads – scuffed, gashed open, restitched – and tied in at the rear of his legs with bows of red-dyed ribbon. Those were pretty at least. There were plenty of times he liked them better than the boots themselves…

The soles and heels though would need mending before long. But why should that come as a surprise, when his feet did so much work of late? When he’d had them – what? – eight months now, and since had run them ragged. It was only fair that they’d beg for a break. Just like it was fair that he’d ask them to wait a while longer. Stockings, leggings, shirts — he had bone needles, a little redware thimble, and could darn them well enough if never good-as-new. Cobbling was different. Boots were expensive. Making and mending them took skill he lacked.

Soon, Simra thought, without knowing when.

The days formed stanzas. Same rhythms, same shapes, and struggling along with the same trudging theme.

But the grey had ended as it always did, and by contrast everything shone, everything sang — until there’d been shine and song enough to take them both for granted again.

The sun began to set.

Noor was singing again. Birdsong, wolfsong — a drone down in her throat that rose up by and by, offering high head-notes to the wind.

Tammunei had caught an eel. Better that by far than the smallfry they usually landed. With the fire already lit, Simra began filleting it, the way Tammunei had taught him.

He had a knife for it: a skinny fisherman’s filleting blade with an uptrailing point, living as part of a pair in a pocketlike sheathe that hung from his swordbelt. Almost funny how he’d had it two years and only just began to use it for its actual-made purpose. Almost.

Simra set to work. In behind the gills then round in a slit circle. Tugging away the mottled skin from head down to tail. Teasing along the spine, blade flat to bone, freeing a long strip of fatty meat from each side. It was meditative after he’d gotten past the constant urge to wash his hands.

“Got any idea what she’s doing?” he asked Tammunei, nodding at Noor. “Or’s your guess good as mine? Is it the same thing every night, or different songs? I can’t tell.”

They sat by the streamside, perched on a flat dry rock. Catkinned reeds rose around them, downy heads bobbing. The water whispered as it journeyed by. Tammunei looked at home by water, Simra reckoned — at ease.

“Herding-songs,” Tammunei answered, cutting away two stiff green skewers of reed with a use-knife and passing them to Simra. “I think that’s what they are. Sort of.”

“‘Sort of’..?” echoed Simra. He remembered the stories his father used to tell, of whistles and songs to call his guar together across the Grazelands in the evening. A moment later it came clear. “Dust and bones, she’s not hurrying along some herd of invisible guar I don’t know about, is she? No. It’s them!” He lowered his voice. “The ghosts she tied together in Bodram. What was it she said? A whisper of them’ll come with her? She’s herding them along. Calling. Making sure that whisper knows where to find her…right? Is that right?”

His voice was eager, wolf-paced, like this new curiosity was a hunger that he was scoffing answers to sate. Tammunei was neutral, voice small and flat, less certain though in sureness they knew more about this than Simra could hope to.

“They’re with me too,” Tammunei said. “She helped them grow and get strong, but I’m still there at the roots…”

Simra pierced and threaded the fish, switchback onto the lengths of reed. Neat work. Satisfying. He held them over the flames to roast. As the fire-warmth seeped into his bones, a fever-itch set into his right hand, beneath the dirty bandage he couldn’t bring himself to remove.

“I can hear them,” Tammunei continued. “Quiet, but I can hear if I listen.”

Simra frowned, both not-knowing and half-knowing how that might feel. When memory overlayed the present it put faint ghosts in everything. “What’re they saying?”

“Mostly they’re happy. They think she’s bringing them home…”

Tammunei was frowning too. Their tongue pointed brief and red over their lips. A hand rose to the long line of their neck, stroking, then gripping uneasy at their throat.

Something in this sat ill with them, Simra reckoned. Strange, when keeping ghosts happy had been all Tammunei wanted for so long…

Noor stopped her singing and went over to her baggage where it was heaped outside the yurt. She travelled light. Just a covered basket strapped to her back and the pockets in her robes. But now Simra watched over the fire and the skewers of sizzling eel as she opened the basket and reached inside to bring out a leather drawstring bag.

She hummed under her breath again as she walked a ways from their camp, through the grasses of the plain until she was out of earshot and almost out of sight. Her hand went into the bag. Came out in a fanning fling of motion, scattering something — like planting seedgrain.

“What’s she doing?” Simra whispered. She couldn’t hear them now, surely. Not at a whisper, and too far off for them to hear her.

“Bones,” came Tammunei’s thin voice. “She’s seeding them. So that those who weren’t Vereansu will be bound to the plains as much as to Bodram. More maybe. Like she is. Like her ancestors b—”

They stopped abrupt. Noor was walking back. New lines crossed her brow, it seemed, and sweat stood out on her face. When she reached the fire she had eyes for neither of them. Mute like her tongue was still elsewhere. She only slumped down beside the fire, a pile of rags and bones once more.

She’d spent herself, that much was clear, but on what great change? Her ghosts, Tammunei said, thought she was bringing her home. All of them, when so many had lived and died in Bodram. She was starting to change what home meant to them — where home was.

Simra set his lips and tried not to think anymore. About it, or Noor, or where the limits of her power might lie. Or of the drawstring pouch in his gathersack, smaller than Noor’s but with almost the same rattle.

They ate the eel, shared off the skewers. Its fatty white-grey flesh roasted well, and had turned red-gold in the heat. Simra imagined it with sticky saltrice, the fish glazed in black mazte vinegar and sprinkled with crushed pink pepper. The snap and crunch of pickled vegetables. But remembering them only made him taste their absence, bitter in each mouthful.

The stars came out. Tonight there was nothing to hide them.

Tammunei offered first watch.

[okwilliamson]

Q’s hunty

baby’s breath: 5 things you associate yourself with: 

hmm, eyebrows, vans, ice coffee, glasses, & loud laughs                        bleeding heart: what makes you heart go mushy? 

getting my head scratched, dont really have hair to play w lol, and also when people are vulnerable with me, a boy sighing happily, kissing, holding hands 

bell flower: what’s the title of the song that makes you want to jump around out of joy?

a song that make me happy is feeling good by micheal buble & cool girl by tove lo , smile by lily allen, foundations by kate nash, hamilton soundtrack lol, 

evening primrose: what’s your sleeping playlist (give me 5 songs)?

wow um blond by frank ocean is good to sleep to, lorde’s pure heroine album 

forget-me-not: who is your favorite blog who isn’t following you?

a lot idk ugly is one of my fav blogs 

daffodil: what is one plant that you want to have but can never get?

wow idk,magical plants i guess like in harry potter that gives harry gills would be pretty sick, also the plants from the first movie where theyre in the pit of like vines that they have to sit still

calla lily: are you more of a sunny day or a rainy evening?

i love both of these, rainy nights are nice when youre with friends but when youre alone its like kinda sad, sunny days are nice for everyone 

foxglove: what is your favorite color and in what shade?

i love all kinds of colors, purple, greens, blues, grey all kinds of stuff 

lavender: what is something that you’ve always wanted to be/have/get but can never have?

ive always wanted to have money- never had any money - probs wont ever have any money is this too real 

love in a mist: what is the latest dream that you remember? 

HAHAHAHHA ok so i had a dream about a crazy dream about art school but i was like in my highschool but it was a huge party and i was like hanging out with everyone and i like slid into this boys group and was hangning out with him and it was literally this boy whos in my science class his name is parker hes fucking 6′10 and has huge hands and i sweat to god hes not even cute i just wanna know how big his dick must be /// anyways i slept with parker in my dream LOL 

daisy: what is your favorite flavor of cotton candy, ice cream, and juice?

cotton candy is like all one flavor right? my fav ice cream depends i love moose tracks and mint chocolate chip and juice probs like orange juice or tropical punch maybe? hi c orange is lit too 

painter’s palette: are you more of a singer, dancer, painter, or instrumentalist?

i love to sing and dance but i am TERRIBLE at both 

tulip: what is your most favorite make-up product? do you like it more natural, dark, or etc?

most fav is my lipsticks probably & eyebrow pomade lips are more natural brows are dark 

waxflower: are you a bee or a butterfly person? a dog or a cat person?

butterfly & dog :-) 

sugarbush: do you have sweet tooth? if yes, what’s your favorite sweets? if no, why?

yes i do sooooo much, usually i want cookies like wow i could slam some cookies all the time also deep fried things like churros and funnel cakes 

sunflower: would you like to be a fairy or a mermaid?

ummmm probs a fairy im not into oceany things so much 

sweet pea: what would you like to call your significant other? 

i call my boy bae, bb, baby, babe, hunny, i call everyone by pet names tho like its not even a special thing until i like find something special for them 

sea lavender: can you swim? which strokes can you do?

i can swim but like if i had to swim to survive idk if i would be able to 

windflower: list 5 of your favorite blogs and explain why i like them

ugh i dont wanna think this hard 

golden rod: are you more of a baker or a cook?

baker for sure bc i never really make a whole dinner i just make cookies and cake 

bloom: what is something that you would like to tell your children? 

bye i dont want kids 

peony: what is something that you wish your parents could’ve told you?  

i wish they would have told me not to let boys determine my worth & also that being bitter about drugs and alcohol is like a waste of time 

prairie gentian: do you have a significant other?

yes but no 

september flower: are you more of a sunshine or sunset person? 

sunshine but not like that bright bc i dont have sunglasses 

bird of paradise: do you wake up early? do you sleep early? 

i wake up early bc of classes, but when i can sleep in i do. im usually in bed early just bc im lazy 

marigold: what’s your favorite tea? 

arizona tea in the big ass cans 

peruvian lily: what are the names of your pets? 

Bo and Frank :-) 

hyacinth: do you name your plants? 

i helped my sister name her succulents and i said to name one brian 

lilac: would you rather sleep and be cozy or hang out with your friends? 

i would like to combine these two things be cozy with ur friends 

poppy: do you like to dip your fries or do you like it as is? 

i love ketchup, and if theres like canes sauce or bbq or honey mustard ill dip into that shit too 

dandelion: any special talent that you have? 

literally no im so boring 

[pricryo]

send me one of my kintypes and i’ll mark their aesthetic with an emoji of my choice!

⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽ ⎽ Ⲷ original meme by @.rarecandy on vent ⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺ ⎺ ⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽⎽ ⎽ Ⲷ KINTYPE AND EMOJI - ⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺ ⎺ SIGHT ⲷ a sunrise after a long, long night ⲷ perfectly stacked papers ⲷ a long, spiderweb-like crack in a mirror ⲷ ripples across a once-still pond ⲷ flickering streetlights in the dead of night ⲷ intensely saturated neon signs ⲷ an ocean of grass rolling in the wind ⲷ the facets of a newly polished gemstone ⲷ stormclouds gathering on the horizon ⲷ something unreal in your periphery vision ⲷ the grandeur of old architecture ⲷ rust building on old machines ⲷ dirt and mud tracked through a building ⲷ a long road stretching into the distance ⲷ the sun glinting off metal

COLORS ⲷ wine red, rose gold, & aqua green ⲷ terracotta orange, puce, & tan yellow ⲷ chocolate brown, blush pink, & white ⲷ apricot, royal purple, & desaturated red ⲷ seafoam green, navy blue, & silver ⲷ gunmetal, bronze, & rust red ⲷ pastel pink, baby blue, & cloud white ⲷ military green, dirt brown, & mustard ⲷ eggplant purple, peach, & warm blue ⲷ flamingo, bright yellow, & electric blue ⲷ mint green, burgundy, & royal yellow ⲷ sepia brown, abalone, & mink grey ⲷ amethyst, emerald, & sapphire ⲷ bubblegum pink, salmon, & tiger orange ⲷ scarlet red, mahogany, & ebony black

HEARING ⲷ birdsong in the pre-dawn morning ⲷ the scrape of a knife across metal ⲷ the gentle rustle of sheets in the morning ⲷ voices raised in song ⲷ the crunch of footsteps on the forest floor ⲷ the rising tone of emergency sirens ⲷ utterly contagious laughter ⲷ rainfall hitting a tin roof ⲷ gunshots piercing a perfect silence ⲷ many people talking at once ⲷ the crash of sea waves against the shore ⲷ ringing in your ears after a loud noise ⲷ something shattering into pieces ⲷ the thump of something hitting the carpet ⲷ a scream cutting through the air

MUSIC GENRE ⲷ classical, opera, & acoustic music ⲷ electronic, lo-fi, & downtempo music ⲷ rock, prog, & industrial music ⲷ disco, funk, & soul music ⲷ jazz, ragtime, & swing music ⲷ pop, indie pop, & worldbeat music ⲷ hip-hop, trap, & rap music ⲷ metal, nu metal, & thrash music ⲷ folk, country, & skiffle music ⲷ experimental, acousmatic, & noise music

TASTE ⲷ the taste of something honey sweet ⲷ the aftertaste of something bitter ⲷ the taste of something extremely sour ⲷ the taste of something very salty ⲷ the taste of something intensely spicy ⲷ the taste of something dry & bland ⲷ the taste of many strong seasonings ⲷ the taste of something gilled & smoky ⲷ the taste of something juicy & flavourful ⲷ the taste of something rank & rotted ⲷ the taste of something extremely bitter ⲷ the taste of something clean and fresh ⲷ the taste of coppery blood ⲷ the taste of dirt or clay ⲷ the taste of tobacco

FOODS ⲷ a meal of lobster, risotto, & scallops ⲷ a meal of a burger, fries, & a milkshake ⲷ a meal of bread, cheese, & water ⲷ a meal of steak, potatoes, & mushrooms ⲷ a meal of a beef bowl, rice, & an egg ⲷ a meal of scrambled eggs & orange juice ⲷ a meal of tamales & grilled corn ⲷ a meal of fresh salad, & grilled kale ⲷ a meal of spaghetti, garlic bread & salad ⲷ a meal of various cakes & candies ⲷ a meal of grilled cheese & tomato soup ⲷ a meal of grilled fish, quinoa, & veggies ⲷ a meal of curry, flatbread, & samosas ⲷ a meal of lentil stew & challah bread ⲷ a meal of whatever you can put together

SMELL ⲷ the scent of the first rain of the season ⲷ the scent of a strong perfume ⲷ the scent of engine oil and dirt ⲷ the scent of wet fur ⲷ the scent of something burning ⲷ the scent of something old uncovered ⲷ the scent of rot and dead things ⲷ the scent of newly poured pavement ⲷ the scent of freshly picked fruits ⲷ the scent of the salty ocean spray ⲷ the scent of spilled alcohol ⲷ the scent of bleach and cleaning solution ⲷ the scent of sweat lingering in the air ⲷ the scent of newly opened paints ⲷ the scent of fresh coffee

EMOTIONS ⲷ an all-consuming rage ⲷ hesitantly bubbling happiness ⲷ jealousy you can't ignore ⲷ an emptiness where emotion should be ⲷ anxiety that you can't get rid of ⲷ a deep sadness that you can't hide ⲷ a feeling of disgust and superiority ⲷ unending boredom ⲷ anticipation for the future ⲷ love and adoration that feels like home ⲷ unwavering devotion ⲷ happiness that's practically contagious ⲷ deepfelt remorse and guilt ⲷ simmering resentment over the past ⲷ overwhelming terror

TOUCH ⲷ water crashing against your body ⲷ a hand running through your hair ⲷ the bite of a brisk wind ⲷ fire scorching your skin ⲷ the tenderness of new bruises ⲷ a pounding headache that won't go away ⲷ an old, scratchy blanket ⲷ jewelry bouncing against your body ⲷ a hand heavy in your own ⲷ a numb tingling across your limbs ⲷ the sting and ache of a fresh injury ⲷ something squeezing you tight as a vice ⲷ a tense grinding of your teeth ⲷ static zapping your skin ⲷ running your hand over a bumpy wall

TEXTURES ⲷ something that feels gooey & messy ⲷ something that feels rough & abrasive ⲷ something that feels granular & coarse ⲷ something that feels fluffy & soft ⲷ something that feels squishy & plush ⲷ something that feels smooth & silky ⲷ something that feels bumpy & unusual ⲷ something that feels wet & slippery ⲷ something that feels stiff & leathery ⲷ something that feels sharp & painful

LOCATIONS ⲷ a home you'll never get to see again ⲷ somewhere out of this world ⲷ a forest older than man itself ⲷ the back alleys of a towering city ⲷ the penthouse of an expensive hotel ⲷ a club with pulsing lights and loud music ⲷ your own space, away from everything ⲷ a dune in a scorching hot desert ⲷ a cliff alongside a rocky beach ⲷ the peak of a high mountain ⲷ an under-personalized office space ⲷ a library full to the brim with rare books ⲷ an abandoned and forbidden place ⲷ the fields of an isolated farm ⲷ a bridge overlooking a city view

CONCEPTS ⲷ history that repeats over and over again ⲷ hurting someone in a way you can't fix ⲷ breaking free from your inner demons ⲷ learning to accept the world as it is ⲷ the haze of something you've forgotten ⲷ questioning a deep set morality ⲷ joining technology and nature into one ⲷ the nature of fate and consciousness ⲷ the inescapable inevitability of death ⲷ the existence of some higher being ⲷ the simplicity if minimalism ⲷ acting on base instincts ⲷ the idea of the philosophical zombie ⲷ the world as one interconnected system ⲷ the tenuous concept of family

ACTIONS ⲷ slicing into flesh with something sharp ⲷ walking faster than everyone around you ⲷ dancing with no inhibitions ⲷ pressing down on the trigger of a gun ⲷ shaking someone's hand for the first time ⲷ working without taking a break ⲷ breaking something beautiful ⲷ toying with a glass of wine ⲷ running away from something dangerous ⲷ digging a deep hole ⲷ banging against a door ⲷ creating art or playing music ⲷ laying down after a long day ⲷ tapping against an electronic screen ⲷ bouncing on the balls of your feet

TIME ⲷ the clock striking midnight ⲷ the witching hour ⲷ the first minutes of dawn ⲷ stolen moments during a busy day ⲷ the start of solar noon ⲷ the long hours of the day ⲷ the early hours of the evening ⲷ the last moments of dusk ⲷ time set aside for a good meal ⲷ the time we lose to sleep

VOCABULARY ⲷ the words love, ineffable, & ethereal ⲷ the words verdict, authority, & ensnared ⲷ the words aerie, melody, & serendipity ⲷ the words epoch, epiphany, & solitude ⲷ the words oblivion, death, & ephemeral ⲷ the words harbinger, pyrrhic, & penumbra ⲷ the words leisure, halcyon, & cosmic ⲷ the words opulent, wine, & coquette ⲷ the words carnage, ire, & basalt ⲷ the words denouement, furtive, & labyrinth ⲷ the words sin, debasement, & iconoclast ⲷ the words liminal, solander, & sonder ⲷ the words petrichor, numinous, & fjord ⲷ the words apotheosis, metanoia, & divine ⲷ the words moist, smear, & secrete

send me one of my kintypes and i'll fill out what their aesthetic is!

[doorcreekgc]

Fish Fry Friday – February 8th

Come out this week around 4PM for Fish Fry Friday! We’d love to have you.

This week’s special: Deep Fried Blue Gill

The post Fish Fry Friday – February 8th appeared first on Door Creek.