#did not mean for this to be reblogged as something informational just expressing personal outrage

[kustovshik]

Talking.

This post is informative in connection with a dispute that one of the parties decided to make absurd. If you don't want to get involved, just skip it. I don't force anyone to look into it or read it.

Kust is in touch. As many people have noticed, there was a small(not small now) conflict between me and a couple of other people, which could have already been eliminated, but was brought to total clowning. Names/nicknames named in this post will not be in order to avoid any negative towards those people. Also, no correspondence will be shown here, although they will be mentioned. If someone asks , I'm ready to go and personally collect all the screenshots of the two conversations, without losing any moments.

As a person in some way responsible for the current situation, I have a desire to illuminate everything from the side of my vision of things.

The conflict conditionally began three days ago. Let's call the person who initially had a small argument with me a certain person "A".

Well. in March. March 24th. We can assume that almost 5 months ago I published a post: https://kustovshik.tumblr.com/post/613504425335586816/i-want-to-be-in-fiars-stomach-he-looks-like-a

Many people remember it, I hope. I'll attach an old screenshot here just in case.

The whole conflict initially started because of the double meaning of the context behind the work itself. The problem, I was told, was the tags. Namely, in the tag highlighted in the screenshot above: ‘safe vore(or is it?)’.

This tag was originally put up there not because I didn't know what type of vore to call it, but specifically so that people themselves would sit and think: what do they want to see in my drawing. Simply put, a drawing with an open context. And it seems like no one has had any problems with it for few months.

That's what person A didn't like. I was told in a very unpleasant way for me personally that the person was very offended by this use of tags. And other problems with how they don't like 'fatal vore'. It was also suggested to me that I don't know about how fatal can be quite a painful experience for some.

I admit. My answer was quite abrupt. I can't deny it, and I won't, because that's the kind of person I am. My language is harsh on words and expressions. Instead of a thousand words and a selection of expressions, I usually tell people everything openly, or I am ready to openly indicate that something is wrong. Also, I fully admit that I have problems controlling my emotions, which makes it difficult for me to establish contact with strangers. I grew up in a different mindset, which is why I have a different view of many things. It's like putting two people who know the same language, but from different parts of the world, next to each other and forcing them to express their position on some moral principles or other things, and then wonder why their answers are different. A very exaggerated and crude comparison, but that how it looks like.

Why did I respond harshly? I am a rather rude person, and I do not like when people come to me in private messages, starting to talk about how bad they are feeling, because of things that can be safely ignored or blocked by them, so that there are no problems.

My first fatal mistake was when I decided to answer to "A". Afterwards, I talked to a couple of my friends and got cold feet. And then I apologized, trying to come to some compromise, adding the tag 'open ending' so that no one would be confused. But it seems that this was not enough, because “A” continued to say how it’s bad from what she found, even if not quite fatal stuff. Refusing to compromise in any way, as I suggested.

After that, we parted with apologies to each other, and neither of us wrote to each other again. I honestly thought it was over.

Now, before I go on to the man who has been driving me mad for the past two days, I will make a pure assumption and try to explain my indignation in a different way...

Out of human interest, I went through the 'safe vore' tag. Noted an interesting feature. Both tags had quite a lot of posts there. Namely, tags are 'safe vore' AND 'fatal vore'. Why did my post cause the problem? Have no idea.

Then another point became incomprehensible to me. How did a person get to this post at all? It would be difficult to find it through search, but you can: there is a lot of content by tag. I flipped the feed down from the second account for a long time and didn't come across my own post.

Then, in my little investigation, I looked into Tumblr's alerts. Likes, reblogs, well, you understand in short. And noticed it.

This is the first appearance of "A" in my notifications.

Hence, I dare to assume that "A" came across one of the reblogs of this post: https://kustovshik.tumblr.com/post/616227708116025344/a-new-player-has-joined-the-game And then "A" went to my blog, along the way ignoring the description specially written for such people at the very top of the blog, and came across my two-meaning post.

But after that, I had a rhetorical question: Why go to the blog of a person who has this written in the description, and hope that there will not be a fatal vore?

Of course, this theory is based only on my assumptions. But I think this scenario is quite real.

Thus, we can say that I have every right to be angry at the indignation expressed in my direction, because it is not my fault that the person ignored my preferences, scrolled down my blog page and started complaining.

Back to reality.

As you can understand, " A " shared our conversation with their friend, who the next day suddenly came to me with a long message about his position, offering help that was not needed.

Even then, I began to suspect that this person(let's call him "B") was somehow connected with "A". Moreover, the reason for the visit was the same for both of them.

I have already mentioned that I am an irritable and rather rude person. I was already stressed enough by the appearance of "A" and the consequences of my reflections that occurred after what I thought was an end to the conflict. And the repeated mention of the situation has already infuriated me.

I fully admit that I reacted very sharply to the "B" message. I had reasons for this that the other side chose not to consider.

Well. After receiving the message I gave sharp response expressing extreme dissatisfaction, but without insults to "B". Was there passive-aggressive speech? Yes. Were words said that I am not obliged to monitor the health of people who do not concern me? Yes. Do I have the right to think so? Yes. Does this fall under the moral code? It depends on the person's personal worldview.

Yes, I was rude due to the fact that on the second day I was exhausted and angry about this situation. I wanted to end this conflict and repeatedly asked both of them to block me and remain neutral. In addition, I tried to somehow explain that we are people of different mentalities and grew up with different life standards, so in this situation we see this conflict differently. Yes, in a rough way, but I tried to explain it.

I received a ton of direct insults, was accused of narcissism and high self-esteem, as well as refusing to take care of other people's problems. In addition, I received lines like, quote: "...but let me see you talk like you did to me or anyone else simply trying to converse with you over a serious topic and I will not hesitate to have your content and eventually your account removed from this site.".

Isn't this a direct threat?

I understand that passive-aggressive speech itself can offend someone. But you can't call it an insult. Passive-aggression is a hidden way of expressing negative feelings and emotions to a person. This is not an insult. But, Yes, I admit that this is a very harsh and rude way of communicating.

That's just after such an exchange of pleasantries, I snapped. 3 days of unquenchable conflict, when one side refused to listen to the other, at the same time. There were attempts on my part to end the conflict. There was one repeated request to block and disperse, so as not to inflame everything to the point of absurdity.

"Want to stay safe with your own preferences? "Please, God, don't touch me, that's all. Block me already and we will live in peace. "- This was the message of my answers. It's sad, but instead of just ending the conflict, I got the brand of a person with a capitalist mindset, the brand of a bitch-whiner, and other other charms.

And I swear that I was ready to just leave all this and stop responding to such outbursts in my direction, banal blocking "B", if they can’t themselves do it.

As here I get a notification with a post where this person changed my art / tags and basically uploaded the changed image to his blog, hiding behind good intentions. "B" did not receive permission for such actions. Even with an indication of authorship. I am most outraged by such actions at the moment.

Better look on the two images compared to each other. 

And after that, everyone wants me to try to understand how bad I was and how poor they are, that from a simple argument that could have ended without even starting, it turned into an absurd clowning with offended people, insults and changing someone else's drawings and whole character reaction. Just a note. Fiar is not so nice, he’s a wild monster leech and he just grumbles about everything as much as he don’t understands why some people willing to let him eat them. He’ll never say something as “I’ll keep you safe”.  

There it is. The comedy of a three days.

This post is for informational purposes only. Namely, how I see this situation.

All I want now is for "B" to delete the post, and for both sides to banal block each other, so that we never meet again.

I refuse to apologize to "B" for their latest act of outraging my drawing by completely distorting the meaning from a neutral drawing to something that only "B" and their friend like. In conclusion I can say, that I do not call myself a good one in that confrontation. I did some terrible mistakes while talking to both of those people. But it’s not only I’m here being on the bad side. People are not black and white. 

After this I’ll not respond to any of the continuation of that conflict anymore. I’m tired of this.

[chloebeale]

Hey, first of all i love you and everything you do ❤ Even tho I don't actually know you, you're someone I kind of consider like a model, idk if this makes you uncomfortable I don't really know how to express how I feel, if you do feel uncomfortable about my message you really don't have to answer to this, the last thing I wanna do is to put you in a position you don't wanna be in. So here it goes, I live in France and I'm barely 16. (1)

but I've been seeing a lot of stuff on social media about the black lives matter movement and I did some research about the situation and I really felt outraged about what is happening and what has been happening to black people for a long time now ( I didn't tell you but I'm a white girl). So I really wanna get involved in this movement but I don't have money and I don't know how to help, I try to talk a lot about the situation with everybody I know . (2)

and I share everything I can on social media but I still feel kinda powerless. I wanna help so badly and I don't know what to do so I was kinda hoping you could give me some advice. If you don't have any it's totally okay but I guess I just really wanna do anything that's in my power to know if I can help and to try to help. Anyway I love you so much and keep doing what you do ❤ (3) Ps: I'm so sorry if this made you uncomfortable and I really hope that everything I said didn't come out wrong ❤

hi! oh my gosh no, that didn’t come out wrong at all. i think it’s awesome that you’re wanting to further educate yourself; that’s something i’m also doing every day. as a white person i definitely can’t speak for black people, so if you have any black friends or acquaintances you could go to and ask how they personally feel would be a good way to help with the movement, i would definitely advise that. as for what i’ve been doing, i think a lot of researching online and trying to better understand the situation every day is a helpful move. not everyone has the means to donate, but there are a ton of petitions you can sign and resources available to read through.

(there are a bunch of websites and twitter threads containing further information and petitions, so i’ll link those at the bottom—thank you so much to @chloebeale for sharing those with me!!)

social media is a really good tool in general; there are a lot of posts being shared on tumblr alone, so reading through those and reblogging them to raise awareness is a super good idea. awareness is a big and powerful thing, so if you can spread it in that way to whoever your following may be, do! and definitely remember that no one is ever done learning, so you’re always going to have more to research and more to learn, and that’s totally valid and okay ♡

links and resources:

blm “ways you can help” website

reporting videos/images showing protestors faces

censoring protestors faces

ways to help internationally

protestors rights

covid advice for protestors

advice for bringing phones to protests

black people’s justice fund

thread of petitions to sign and organizations to donate to

thread of petitions

black small businesses donation thread / and here

petition to save wrongly convicted julius jones / and here

(full credit to the twitter users for creating those threads)

[randomfandomimagine]

Soul of a Warrior. Chapter 14: Sisterhood

Fandom: The Witcher

Ship: Jaskier x Nissa (OC)

Previous Chapter - Chapter Index - Next Chapter

AO3

Please reblog and leave a comment, it would make my day!

Jaskier is rambling. I have never been so enthused by his nonsense. I’m not even picking on what subject he is prattling about, only focused on the passion with which he always speaks and the way his eyes sparkle and his lips curl up.

“I’m sorry…” He suddenly says, turning to me with a hand on his hip. “Am I boring you?”

I shake my head, unable to contain my smile. He watches me carefully, being infected with my gesture. Moved by a feeling I thought forgotten, I quit our walking and immediately sneak my arms around his waist to hold him tight. This embrace seems to bring me together when his arms envelop me as well. His light chuckle sounds near my ear and causes my heart to skip a beat.

“I have missed you, stupid bard” Needing to look into his lively blue eyes again, I pull away and look up at them. His arms linger around me. Reminding me of something else I had missed, his bright smile dazzles me when it arrives, bigger than ever and mildly smug.

“I knew you couldn’t live without me, love” When I glare at him, he chuckles in an adorable way and strokes my back with his hand. “I’ve missed you too, Nissa”

Once more, the way he looks at me flusters me deeply.

“Why don't we… sit for a moment?”

“Of course” He unhands me, leaving coldness in that spot where his hands rested. Jaskier then bows with a flourish, inviting me to choose a spot myself in order for him to follow.

“Now” I plop down on the ground, not bothering to look for a more suitable place to rest. We have been talking for hours, and all this walking is tiring me after I have grown more accustomed to riding and traveling through portals than to our usual trudging when I was with Jaskier and Geralt. “Jas”

“Hm?”

“What are your plans?”

“I… don’t really have any” He mumbles as he sits by my side. “Why, do you?”

“Maybe we should look for Geralt” I shrug a bit, trying to conceal how excited I am about the idea. “Get the team back together”

“I…” He fidgets his hands, not establishing eye contact again. “I’m not quite sure that’s what he wants”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I offer, finally addressing what has clearly been bothering him for a bit. “Something obviously happened between you two”

Jaskier sighs. His entire composure crumbles in a second. He quiets down, though when he pipes up again he does so with his usual fervor.

“That obstinate witcher…” Jaskier rolls his eyes dramatically.  “He shouted at me, so I just walked away”

Despite his feigned carefree tone, I can tell that he’s upset. I stare at him, noticing the subtle frown on his brow, but he nervously shakes his head. Before I can react, he has put his head on my lap and I freeze for a moment. His head is literally on my thigh.

“I mean, how is that fair?” He mutters, gesticulating quite a lot, but facing away from me.

I feel bad for him and see no reason to push him away. Instead, I find the gesture to be quite endearing. I smile and sigh. After several seconds of hesitance, my hand falls over his head. His hair is surprisingly soft and I find myself sinking my fingers in it, which also seems to be of comfort to him as he relaxes into the touch.

“What happened, exactly?” I encourage him, continuing to caress his hair.

“It was because of Yennefer, he was grumpy and…” Jaskier suddenly grows quiet. In any case, he gave me all the information I needed.

It seems as though Geralt has not remedied his tendency to lash out at people, especially if a certain sorceress is involved. I myself have suffered the effect Yennefer has on Geralt as well. I cannot forget that moment at the inn. She only makes his temper worse when they clash.

I grit my teeth as I watch Jaskier. He remains quiet. I patiently wait for him to continue, but he only turns around to lay flat on his back. Now our eyes meet and there is a pronounced frown in his brows again. I can clearly read the vulnerability and remorse in his expression.

“Did he take it out on you?” I venture, making him shrug before crossing his arms over his chest. He looks up at the sky, perhaps to avoid looking at me.

“It’s fine…” Despite his words, he makes a face. “It wouldn’t be the first time anyway”

“Jas” My stern tone causes him to look at me. “Cut the crap”

Jaskier lingers for a moment, eyes drowned in emotion as he stares. Then he sits up off my lap and heaves a big sigh. He tries to hide it with a faux smile, but his eyes have turned watery.

“Um, actually… I’m… quite hurt” His voice falters, and I put my head on his shoulder as a silent gesture of comfort. That seems to encourage him to continue. “He said some things…”

“Like what?”

“You know…” His fingers nervously fiddle with the grass that flattens under his legs. “How I give him nothing but trouble and he wishes he never met me… the usual…”

“Jaskier…” That is harsh, even for Geralt. I am outraged, and I wince in sympathy.

He stays quiet, though I know him well enough to read his thoughts. He’s scared, terrified that Geralt was speaking the truth, that all this time he didn’t actually consider him a friend, that he only seems him as a nuisance and a meddling bard that he merely reclutantly tolerated.

“You know he didn’t mean it” I pull away from him to look him in the eye, yet he doesn’t reciprocate, instead absently glancing down at the grass he twiddles between his fingers. “Jas, look at me”

He finally meets with my gaze. His blue eyes are drowned in tears, which honestly breaks my heart. How dare Geralt hurt Jaskier like that? If we meet again, I will be certain to scold him for it. He should realize the impact of his words and consider other’s feelings before opening his big mouth. Stubborn bloody witcher…

I take Jaskier’s hands in mine to keep him from pulling at the grass any more.

“Geralt cares about you, he genuinely values your friendship” I shake my head, mentally cursing the witcher. “And if you say Yennefer was still around, you know she rattles him. I’m sure you did nothing wrong”

“Yeah…” He chuckles, although the emotion doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I suppose”

“We are going to look for him and find him, and he better apologize... or I’m going to kick his ass until he does. Only I can taunt my stupid bard”

My joking tone is enough to lighten the mood a bit. Jaskier laughs once more, this time more heartedly. With his free hand, he rubs his eyes before the tears can actually come down.

“I miss that grumpy witcher” He reluctantly admits. “With our falling out…”

“I… was feeling lonely too” I tap his knee, and dedicate him a reassuring smile when his eyes meet with mine. “But now we can be lonely together”

“Thank you, Nissa” He breathes out, as though it had been difficult for him to breathe before.

I never let go of his hands, but I peck his cheek before carefully leaning my head on his shoulder again. He leans into the touch, resting his cheek against my hair. The forgotten butterflies return. My heart is thumping inside my chest once more. A thought burns in my mind, making that persistent ache in my heart to feel quite obvious, painfully so.

Unspoken words itch in my tongue, they burn in my mind. I feel shortness of breath at the thought of speaking them, of opening my heart to him. It’s probably a good moment. The atmosphere finally feels calm and warm. Silence has settled for a change. We are, in fact, holding hands and leaning on each other. I smile in anticipation, opening my mouth to pour my emotions out.

“Alright, your turn” He suddenly says before I can utter any words.

“What?” I pull away from him, watching him in confusion.

“Tell me what’s worrying you” Jaskier clicks his tongue in exasperation. “Or are you telling me you just wanted an excuse to tackle me to the ground and straddle me back there?”

“Can you not use that word?” I try to unhand him, but his hands tighten around mine.

“Which one, straddle?” I catch him smirking with the corner of my eye. Oh, he is back to being himself already, I see. “Why? Does it fluster you, Nissa?”

Lacking a proper response, I only press my lips together and shake my head. Fighting it with all my strength, I refuse to smile in response to his flirtatious teasing. Gods, how I have missed him…

“Come on” His fingers leave mine to instead clasp our palms together. “Tell me what’s wrong, I’m listening”

The gentle way in which he speaks gives me goose bumps. The tender manner in which he is staring at me is making it impossible for me to return his gaze. I hate that I adore him so bloody much, that he can go from insufferable to endearing so quickly.

A sigh escapes my lips.

“I feel so… vulnerable” I start speaking, allowing that restlessness that nestled within me for months to finally come out.  “Without you or Geralt around… I often spend time alone these days, and… I haven’t done so in my entire life”

Jaskier gravely nods his head, letting me know he understands. As I hoped he would.

There was always someone. When I was little it was my parents. When they passed, it was Kader. After he was taken from me I had Hana, and then Jaskier and Geralt. But now, even though I have befriended Triss and Hana is by my side once more… a strange and foreign loneliness has accompanied me, an empty feeling that rendered my heart prisoner even when I was in the company of my sorceress friends. This feeling was only driven away with Jaskier’s unexpected appearance.

Many times, I have been close to telling Hana all of this, to... venting this anguish that stirred within me. But all the sorceresses are too busy, or preoccupied with bigger, more important matters. Matters that concerned all of the Continent and not just an insignificant person like me. And even if it wasn’t the case, I didn’t feel brave enough to tell her. There are many reasons for it as well.

For starters, I didn’t want to burden her with my trifles. Knowing her, she would be more than happy to let me vent yet… I didn’t feel comfortable with the idea. Even if I knew she would scold me for thinking so, for believing that I wasn’t right to for even a moment.

Secondly, I wasn’t convinced that she would understand me. She would intently listen to my every word, of course, and comfort me and just be there, but… I needed someone who could understand what I was experiencing. Jaskier, who has traveled many times with Geralt before, probably relates to such vulnerability more than I can ever imagine.

The witcher’s company was comforting, a silent promise that his protective and skilled presence would defend us from any and all evils, because he was our friend and, no matter how much he tried to deny it if asked, he cared about us. He was in no way invincible, but he nearly felt like he was.

And now, whenever I leave for a stroll or ride with Pal, I feel exposed. Despite having my dagger and my sword as well as my scarce magic skills, I still do. Even if I train diligently, every day without fail. It doesn’t matter.

“Nissa?” His thumb comfortingly rubs my knuckles as his voice steers my thoughts.

“It is quite silly” A pang reaches my chest when I see the heartbroken expression in his face. I roll my eyes, ashamed by these feelings. “And cowardly”

“It isn’t” Jaskier softly shakes his head. “We have encountered so much peril… It’s not strange to feel in such a way”

Exactly. Jaskier does understand me. Warrior elves, vampires, bounty hunters, archespores, leshy… Each and every single encounter stays in my memory. Those close calls we have had never leave me, and they only magnify in my imagination when I am alone. Those same creatures and more of even bigger significance seem to lurk in every corner.

“Would you feel safer with me by your side?” He asks, and it saddens me to recognize a hint of fear in his voice. Fear of not being strong like Geralt. Fear of not being a good enough companion, of just not being enough. Before I can address it, he chuckles to appear nonchalant. “Well… I promise... No, I swear! To protect you with my life and… my lute”

I laugh through the unshed tears and pass a hand over my eyelashes before those that have gathered there manage to treacherously slide down my cheeks. This matter seems to have affected me more than I first imagined. Once I have spoken out on it, my chest feels lighter. Timidly, I glance up at Jaskier. His eyes hold as much emotion as I feel.

Raising his eyebrows in an invitation, his arms open. I don’t hesitate to shield myself in his embrace. It is cozy, homely and comfortable. When he holds me, I can finally breathe.

“Thank you” I close my eyes and treasure every second of the feeling of his arms around me. It is so wonderful. I feel at home now. At last.

“You too” He flattens his palms against my back to further press me against him. I smile.

This enveloping embrace is all I need to realize Hana was right. There are no doubts in my mind, no matter how much I tried to deny it. As I have before, I can fight my instincts as much as I want, but my emotions have made the decision for me. Long ago, before I even encountered him. I had missed him so much it hurt. Now that I have him with me again, I will not lose this opportunity. Destiny has spoken.

“Jas?”

“Yes”

“Where would we go?”

“Wherever you please, love”

In all honesty, I am not quite sure where I want to go. All I know is that I want it to be with him. The destination doesn’t really matter as long as I am by his side.

That notion fills my chest with warmth. Traveling with Jaskier and chatting like we used to. Spending every second by his side, flirting and joking and singing and just… being with him. It is absolutely ideal. I am giddy just thinking about it.

The fantasy, however, is wrecked by the weight of reality. In order to achieve that, I must do something first. Something quite unpleasant that I do not want to do.

“If…” I mutter against his silk doublet. “If we are leaving… then I need to…”

“Say goodbye?” He cautiously completes for me, comfortingly rubbing my back.

Even after all this time apart, Jaskier knows me well. It is so reassuring knowing I have someone like him, who understands me so well. Who cares. Who I have special feelings for. Who, in some way or another, reciprocates them.

“Yes” Begrudgingly, as I would comfortable lie in his embrace forever, I pull away.

“Let’s go then” Jaskier nods his head, and his encouraging smile brightens my gloomy mood.

_

Knowing he is waiting for me outside seems to fill me with courage. It is useful, for I lose vitality the more people I talk to. I have quickly said goodbye to most of the women here. First Tissaia, then Sabrina, Fringilla, Yennefer and Triss. Like last time, I leave the most painful farewell for last.

My fist is shaking as I knock on Hana’s door. I nibble on my bottom lip when it swings open to reveal her. Hana’s face bears a resigned tranquility.

“Are you here to say goodbye?” She asks, moving to the side.

“Not exactly” I avoid her gaze as I come in. I pause until I hear the sound of the door closing behind me. “Not if you want to come with us”

I refuse to make the same mistake twice. At the very least, I will ask her even if I already know the answer is no. My conscience needs it. I also find comfort to my racing irrational thoughts when I remember that she is not defenseless. None of them are.

“Nissa…” Hana rolls her eyes, even if a refreshing smile on her lips teases me. “What would I do with the two of you?”

I shrug, aware that what I am asking is foolish. If I was in her shoes, I wouldn’t come either, especially not since she has found a new home here just like I have with them. With him.

“I had to ask” I shrug my shoulders once more and force my gaze down when tears flood my eyes.

“I know” Hana seems much calmer than I am in spite of the subtle trembling of her level voice. “I appreciate it”

“I… I’m sorry, Han…” Even when her hands hold mine as soon as a sob escapes my throat, I still can’t muster the courage to look into her eyes. “I'm sorry for leaving you again, I am a terrible friend”

“You are not” She continues, still as serene. “I wouldn’t force you to stay somewhere you’re not happy in anymore, just like you understand that I want to stay here”

My bottom lip trembles. Emotions that I believed forsaken pour to the surface, feelings that I experienced soon after I first met Geralt and Jaskier. I vividly remember the moment I experienced them: standing at the top of the mountain, overlooking the desolation of my home and believing Hana to be dead. That guilt and sorrow return.

“L-Last time that I abandoned you…” A knot in my throat interrupts me as the sobs take over.

“Nothing like that will happen again” Her fingers squeeze my hands. “And you never abandoned me, Nissa”

"But I..." In the end I quiet, staring at our hands even though the tears blur them.

“Do you understand?” She insists, as though it is important to her that I do. Prey of my weeping, I only manage a vehement nod. I let go of one of her hands to wipe my tears.

The room grows completely quiet as we think of something else to say. How to express the gratitude of a lifetime? The regret that has been building up for months? The concern that clutches to my very soul? Instead, I pathetically smile at her and finally hold her gaze.

“Please take care” Completely breaking the connection, I instead throw myself to hug her.

Much like Geralt, Hana was never a physical or affectionate person. Her love language diverged from bold proofs of fondness. Nonetheless, she has no problem hugging me back this time.

“I will” She replies, and I can’t comprehend how her voice remains calm as she holds me tight. “You do too, you hear? Don’t be stubborn”

“I love you, Han” I suddenly chuckle, taken aback by a wave of affection that overpowers the sadness.

“Goodbye, sister” Hana says, squeezing me once more before breaking away.

Somehow, it all feels right. She is my sister, my family. The distance will never change that.

We linger for a moment, trying to postpone my departure for as long as we can. Ultimately, I smile at her as I step towards the door. The gesture is genuine and devoid of any melancholy or nostalgia. She will be okay. And so will I. She grins back, which is enough to fill me with peace as I step out of the room.

It is time to leave hers and return to a home of my own. As though destiny knew this thought would occur, I find Jaskier standing in the corridor. His back is leaned against the wall opposite of me. Arms crossed and head tilted, his eyes are vacant and thoughtful. I chuckle. The sound casts his gaze over me as he lifts his head up. I expected his smile, though his expression is stoic as he watches my red swollen eyes. I don’t know what to say to him.

“Nissa” Hana suddenly opens the door one last time. I turn in a daze.

When I face her, I see her offering something to me. As I approach, I watch the wide brass bracelet she twiddles between her fingers and timidly take it. The one on her wrist is identical.

“I bought it soon after you arrived, during one of my missions with Triss” She tells me, smiling when I put it on. “We both knew you would become a healer like you intended”

Oh, Hana… Tears gather at my eyes once more, and I mentally curse her for it.

“Thank you” I fraternally squeeze her upper arm. “I will never take it off”

Hana grins, though her eyes fix somewhere behind me. I had nearly forgotten Jaskier is there.

“Goodbye, lady Hana!” He kindly says. “It was a pleasure to properly meet you”

“Goodbye, Jaskier” She smirks a bit as she leans on the door. “Look after her, will you?”

“Of course” As a promise of his good will, his arm protectively sneaks around my waist.

“Actually, I’m looking after him” I chuckle, bringing a wide grin to her mouth. He doesn’t complain and in fact laughs.

Hana and I wave at each other. We smile, but my heart feels heavy. Her door then closes. A small emptiness fills me. The stillness lingers in the atmosphere for several more seconds.

“Are you alright?” Jaskier gently whispers. After all, I haven’t moved from the spot and I still stare at the closed door. It takes me a bit to answer, only managing a nod.

“Yes… Truly, I am” Taking a deep breath, I turn to him. “I know where to find them now, and I know Hana is okay. Safe and sound. She belongs here, and she is happy in this place”

Jaskier dedicates me a soft smile and a head nod. We don’t say anything as we start moving and advance through the hallway. Our footsteps echo against the walls, filling the void.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Nissa?” He sighs in reluctance. “I wouldn’t want you to regret it. Especially given that I am the very reason you are leaving and… I don’t want to be the one to drive you away from her, I… I know how much she means to you”

I grin. Unlike the moment when I said goodbye to Jaskier, this doesn’t feel wrong. Certainly, it is sad and I will miss her dearly. Nonetheless, I know I am doing the right thing. I am moving towards something that makes me happy. A special someone. I am staying where I belong.

“You do too, Jaskier” I instinctively say before I can stop myself. “I’m sure”

As we step outside, I hear him sighing. It seems a gesture of relief and fondness. Feeling mildly flustered by the way in which he suddenly stares, I hurry to reunite with Pal.

My horse is patiently waiting as I approach him and caress his neck as always. His jet-black eyes seem to smile when he lovingly nudges my shoulder. Then I nimbly climb up on the saddle and offer my hand for Jaskier to take. With a bright grin that rivals the sun itself, he takes my hand and rides behind me.

I pause and take a deep breath. Exhale. Another pause before spurring Pal on. I refuse to look back as we ride, not even to glance at Jaskier sitting in the saddle with me. He is uncharacteristically quiet, though I assume it is out of respect for my woe.

“Ah, I will miss this place… full of beautiful women, it was” He finally says, heaving a dreamy sigh. “They have in fact inspired me to finish my song”

“At last? It took you ages” As comical as it can be to see him struggle, I can sense his frustration. It is good to know he has finally finished it.

“Ugh, don’t remind me” His hands move in the air with his wide gestures. “But I did write it while we were apart. It didn’t actually take me this long”

“I see. Please forgive my affront”

“Alright, cheeky, would you like to hear it?”

“Of course, Jaskier”

“Brilliant” He clears his throat in a very important manner. “It is called Delicate Flower”

With his usual flare for the theatrical, he only clears his throat and pauses dramatically. I am very aware of the way his arms wrap around me from behind as he holds on to me. Preferring not to play his lute while riding, Jaskier starts singing a cappella instead. His harmonious voice finally fills the silence. I close my eyes to fully enjoy the sound of his singing, one that I had missed as dearly as I had missed the bard himself.

Let me tell you about my love

My muse, my beauty, my dove

Dazzling smile, gorgeous eyes

Her perfection, my demise

Brighter than the sun and twice as fair

No one else in the world can compare

 ...

A delicate flower

Claiming her power

Determined and sentimental

Fair, soft and gentle

Fierce and bold

Soul of a warrior and heart of gold

 ...

The mere touch of her lips

Would be absolute bliss

Her present existence

Unbearable distance

 ...

I wonder who inspired the ballad. It is lovely, though it pains me to think those feelings he harbored have nothing to do with me. Does he still feel in such a way about the object of his inspiration? Was that person only a fleeting infatuation? Does the song mean a lot to him? It doesn't matter. No, I refuse to linger on jealousy. We are together now. That's what's important.

“It was beautiful, Jas” I twist in the saddle to leave a peck on his cheek. “As always”

“Thank you very much” He beams, proudly squaring his shoulders up. “Any further thoughts?”

Yes, I wish that song was for me. But it isn’t. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.

“No” I say instead. “Not really”

Jaskier sighs, though says nothing more. His arms gingerly tighten around my stomach.

Pal is now noisier as his hooves resonate against the hard ground. They rhythmic and repetitive sound is calming.

As we leave the academy behind, I peer down at the new bracelet on my wrist. Its mere sight fills me with warmth. It is a reminder that, no matter how far away we are, we will always be family.

Tag list: @x-joie-x​ / @x-jodi-x​ / @dancingwith-thesunflowers​ / @golden-guide​ / @alwayshave-faith​ / @this-is-whump-dammit​ / @legallyblindgamer727​ / @lilyevans1​ / @kingniazx​ / @molethemollie / @a-somehow-functioning-dumbass // Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list to be notified when I post next chapter!!

[chrysalispen]

personality trait meme time!

my brain is actively rebelling at the notion of writing anything tonight (i literally just woke up like an hour ago out of hunger and am going right back to bed tbh >_>) so hey, have a meme

(tumblr was doing a weird thing and not letting me reblog this properly, but @mirkemenagerie did this and i thought it was a pretty neat way to flesh out characters SO ON WE GOOOO)

and just to mix things up a bit i’ve selected one Nero tol Scaeva as my victim of choice tonight so you get to see a little bit of how i write him :3c

Bold what applies to your character.  

Bold-Italics for somewhat  / sometimes (i interpreted this as situational but ymmv)

Absent-minded - Preoccupied to the extent of being unaware of one’s immediate surroundings. Abstracted, daydreaming, inattentive, oblivious, forgetful. Abusive - Characterized by improper infliction of physical or psychological maltreatment towards another. Addict - One who is addicted to a compulsive activity. Examples: gambling, drugs, sex. Aimless - Devoid of direction or purpose. Alcoholic - A person who drinks alcoholic substances habitually and to excess. Anxious - Full of mental distress or uneasiness because of fear of danger or misfortune; greatly worried; solicitous. Arrogant - Having or displaying a sense of overbearing self-worth or self-importance. Inclined to social exclusiveness and who rebuff the advances of people considered inferior. Snobbish. Audacious - Recklessly bold in defiance of convention, propriety, law, or the like; insolent; braze, disobedient. Bad Habit - A revolting personal habit. Examples: picks nose, spits tobacco, drools, bad body odour. Bigmouth - A loud-mouthed or gossipy person. Bigot - One who is strongly partial to one’s own group, religion, race, or politics and is intolerant of those who differ. Blunt - Characterized by directness in manner or speech; without subtlety or evasion. Frank, callous, insensitive, brusque. Bold - In a bad sense, too forward; taking undue liberties; over assuming or confident; lacking proper modesty or restraint; rude; impudent. Abrupt, brazen, cheeky, brassy, audacious. Callous - They are hardened to emotions, rarely showing any form of it in expression. Unfeeling. Cold. Childish - Marked by or indicating a lack of maturity; puerile. Complex - An exaggerated or obsessive concern or fear. Cruel - Mean to anyone or anything, without care or regard to consequences and feelings. Cursed - A person who has befallen a prayer for evil or misfortune, placed under a spell, or borne into an evil circumstance, and suffers for it. Damned. Dependent - Unable to exist, sustain oneself, or act appropriately or normally without the assistance or direction of another. Deranged - Mentally decayed. Insane. Crazy. Mad. Psychotic. Dishonest – Given to or using fraud, cheating; deceitful, deceptive, crooked, underhanded. Disloyal - Lacking loyalty. Unfaithful, perfidious, traitorous, treasonable Disorder - An ailment that affects the function of mind or body. (malignant narcissist, former kleptomaniac, obsessive-compulsive) See the Mental Disorder List. Disturbed - Showing some or a few signs or symptoms of mental or emotional illness. Confused, disordered, neurotic, troubled. Dubious - Fraught with uncertainty or doubt. Undecided, doubtful, unsure. Dyslexic - Affected by dyslexia, a learning disorder marked by impairment of the ability to recognize and comprehend written words. Egotistical - Characteristic of those having an inflated idea of their own importance. Boastful, pompous. Envious - Showing extreme cupidity; painfully desirous of another’s advantages; covetous, jealous. Erratic - Deviating from the customary course in conduct or opinion; eccentric: erratic behavior. Eccentric, bizarre, outlandish, strange. Fanatical - Fanatic outlook or behavior especially as exhibited by excessive enthusiasm, unreasoning zeal, or wild and extravagant notions on some subject. Fickle – Erratic, changeable, unstable - especially with regard to affections or attachments; capricious. Fierce - Marked by extreme intensity of emotions or convictions; inclined to react violently; fervid. Finicky - Excessively particular or fastidious; difficult to please; fussy. Too much concerned with detail. Meticulous, fastidious, choosy, critical, picky, prissy, persnickety. Fixated - In psychoanalytic theory, a strong attachment to a person or thing, especially such an attachment formed in childhood or infancy and manifested in immature or neurotic behaviour that persists throughout life. Fetish, quirk, obsession, infatuation. Flirt -To make playfully romantic or sexual overtures; behaviour intended to arouse sexual interest. Minx. Tease. Gluttonous - Given to excess in consumption of especially food or drink. Voracious, ravenous, wolfish, piggish, insatiable. Gruff - Brusque or stern in manner or appearance. Crusty, rough, surly. Gullible - Will believe any information given, regardless of how valid or truthful it is, easily deceived or duped. Hard - A person who is difficult to deal with, manage, control, overcome, or understand. Hard emotions, hard hearted. Hedonistic - Pursuit of or devotion to pleasure, especially to the pleasures of the senses. Hoity-toity - Given to flights of fancy; capricious; frivolous. Prone to giddy behaviour, flighty. Humourless - The inability to find humour in things, and most certainly in themselves. Hypocritical - One who is always contradicting their own beliefs, actions or sayings. A person who professes beliefs and opinions for others that he does not hold. Being a hypocrite. Idealist - One whose conduct is influenced by ideals that often conflict with practical considerations. One who is unrealistic and impractical, guided more by ideals than by practical considerations. Idiotic - Marked by a lack of intelligence or care; foolish or careless. Ignorant - Lacking knowledge or information as to a particular subject or fact. Showing or arising from a lack of education or knowledge. Illiterate - Unable to read and write. Immature - Emotionally undeveloped; juvenile; childish. Impatient - Unable to wait patiently or tolerate delay; restless. Unable to endure irritation or opposition; intolerant. Impious - Lacking piety and reverence for a god/gods and their followers. Impish - Naughtily or annoyingly playful. Incompetent - Unable to execute tasks, no matter how the size or difficulty. Indecisive - Characterized by lack of decision and firmness, especially under pressure. Indifferent - The trait of lacking enthusiasm for or interest in things generally, remaining calm and seeming not to care; a casual lack of concern. Having or showing little or no interest in anything; languid; spiritless. Infamy - Having an extremely bad reputation, public reproach, or strong condemnation as the result of a shameful, criminal, or outrageous act that affects how others view them. Intolerant - Unwilling to tolerate difference of opinion and narrow-minded about cherished opinions. Judgmental - Inclined to make and form judgments, especially moral or personal ones, based on one’s own opinions or impressions towards others/practices/groups/religions based on appearance, reputation, occupation, etc. Klutz - Clumsy. Blunderer. Lazy - Resistant to work or exertion; disposed to idleness. Lewd - Inclined to, characterized by, or inciting to lust or lechery; lascivious. Obscene or indecent, as language or songs; salacious. Liar - Compulsively and purposefully tells false truths more often than not. A person who has lied or who lies repeatedly. Lustful - Driven by lust; preoccupied with or exhibiting lustful desires. Masochist - The deriving of sexual gratification, or the tendency to derive sexual gratification, from being physically or emotionally abused. A willingness or tendency to subject oneself to unpleasant or trying experiences. Meddlesome - Intrusive in a meddling or offensive manner, given to meddling; interfering. Meek - Evidencing little spirit or courage; overly submissive or compliant; humble in spirit or manner; suggesting retiring mildness or even cowed submissiveness. Megalomaniac - A psycho pathological condition characterized by delusional fantasies of wealth, power, or omnipotence. Naïve - Lacking worldly experience and understanding, simple and guileless; showing or characterized by a lack of sophistication and critical judgement. Nervous - Easily agitated or distressed; high-strung or jumpy. Non-violent - Abstaining from the use of violence. Nosy - Given to prying into the affairs of others; snoopy. Offensively curious or inquisitive. Obsessive - An unhealthy and compulsive preoccupation with something or someone. Oppressor - A person of authority who subjects others to undue pressures, to keep down by severe and unjust use of force or authority. Overambitious - Having a strong excessive desire for success or achievement. Overconfident - Excessively confident; presumptuous. Overemotional - Excessively or abnormally emotional. Sensitive about themselves and others, more so than the average person. Overprotective - To protect too much; coddle. Overzealous - Marked by excessive enthusiasm for and intense devotion to a cause or idea. Pacifist - Opposition to war or violence as a means of resolving disputes. (Can double as a merit in certain cases) Paranoid - Exhibiting or characterized by extreme and irrational fear or distrust of others. Peevish - Expressing fretfulness and discontent, or unjustifiable dissatisfaction. Cantankerous, cross, ill-tempered, testy, captious, discontented, crotchety, cranky, ornery. Perfectionist - A propensity for being displeased with anything that is not perfect or does not meet extremely high standards. Pessimist - A tendency to stress the negative or unfavorable or to take the gloomiest possible view. Pest - One that pesters or annoys, with or without realizing it. Nuisance. Annoying. Nag. Phobic – They have a severe form of fear when it comes to this one thing. (Claustrophobia) Practical - Level-headed, efficient, and unspeculative. No-nonsense. Predictable - Easily seen through and assessable, where almost anyone can predict reactions and actions of said person by having met or known them even for a short time. Proud - Filled with or showing excessive self-esteem and will often shirk help from others for the sake of pride. Rebellious - Defying or resisting some established authority, government, or tradition; insubordinate; inclined to rebel. Reckless - Heedless. Headstrong. Foolhardy. Unthinking boldness, wild carelessness and disregard for consequences. Remorseless - Without remorse; merciless; pitiless; relentless. Rigorous - Rigidly accurate; allowing no deviation from a standard; demanding strict attention to rules and procedures. Sadist - The deriving of gratification or the tendency to derive gratification from inflicting pain or emotional abuse on others. Deriving of pleasure, or the tendency to derive pleasure, from cruelty. Sadomasochist - Both sadist and masochist combined. Sarcastic - A subtle form of mockery in which an intended meaning is conveyed obliquely. Skeptic - One who instinctively or habitually doubts, questions, or disagrees with assertions or generally accepted conclusions. Seducer - To lead others astray, as from duty, rectitude, or the like; corrupt. To attempt to lead or draw someone away, as from principles, faith, or allegiance. Selfish - Concerned chiefly or only with oneself. Self-Martyr - One who purposely makes a great show of suffering in order to arouse sympathy from others, as a form of manipulation, and always for a selfish cause or reason. Self-righteous - Piously sure of one’s own righteousness; moralistic. Exhibiting pious self-assurance. Holier-than-thou, sanctimonious. Senile - Showing a decline or deterioration of physical strength or mental functioning, esp. short-term memory and alertness, as a result of old age or disease. Shallow - Lacking depth of intellect or knowledge; concerned only with what is obvious. Smart Ass - Thinks they know it all, and in some ways they may, but they can be greatly annoying and difficult to deal with at times, especially in arguments. Soft-hearted - Having softness or tenderness of heart that can lead them into trouble; susceptible of pity or other kindly affection. They cannot resist helping someone they see in trouble, suffering or in need, and often don’t think of the repercussions or situation before doing so. Solemn - Deeply earnest, serious, and sober. Spineless - Lacking courage. Cowardly, wimp, lily-livered, gutless. Spiteful - Showing malicious ill will and a desire to hurt; motivated by spite; vindictive person who will look for occasions for resentment. Vengeful. Spoiled - Treated with excessive indulgence and pampering from earliest childhood, and has no notion of hard work, self-care or money management; coddled, pampered. Having the character or disposition harmed by pampering or over-solicitous attention. Squeamish - Excessively fastidious and easily disgusted. Stubborn - Unreasonably, often perversely unyielding; bull-headed. Firmly resolved or determined; resolute. Superstitious - An irrational belief arising from ignorance or fear from an irrational belief that an object, action, or circumstance not logically related to a course of events influences its outcome. Tactless - Lacking or showing a lack of what is fitting and considerate in dealing with others. Temperamental - Moody, irritable, or sensitive. Excitable, volatile, emotional. Theatrical - Having a flair for over dramatizing situations, doing things in a ‘big way’ and love to be ‘centre stage’. Timid -Tends to be shy and/or quiet, shrinking away from offering opinions or from strangers and newcomers, fearing confrontations and violence. Tongue-tied - Speechless or confused in expression, as from shyness, embarrassment, or astonishment. Troublemaker - Someone who deliberately stirs up trouble, intentionally or unintentionally. Unlucky - Marked by or causing misfortune; ill-fated. Destined for misfortune; doomed. Unpredictable - Difficult to foretell or foresee, their actions are so chaotic it’s impossible to know what they are going to do next. Untrustworthy - Not worthy of trust or belief. Backstabber. Vain - Holding or characterized by an unduly high opinion of their physical appearance. Lovers of themselves. Conceited, egotistic, narcissistic. Weak-willed - Lacking willpower, strength of will to carry out one’s decisions, wishes, or plans. Easily swayed. Withdrawn - Not friendly or Sociable. Aloof. Zealous - A fanatic.

[youcantkillamutant]

A Map Made in Heaven (Chapter 3)

Prologue...Chapter 1...Chapter 2

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary: Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens is the biggest bootlegger in South Carolina, but he wants to be more than the middle man. After he receives a letter from an ‘old friend’ of his father, he embarks on a quest to find his homeland. Enter Audrey Cade, the finest mapmaker in the County.

Warnings: Mentions of slavery, cursing, violence, blood

Words: 5K+

A/N: Back with that 1920’s bootleggers AU that absolutely no one asked for! Thank you to @k-michaelis as always for the review and love! And thank you everyone else for reading liking and reblogging I love hearing what y’all think of the story :)

I only own my original characters of course. As usual Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

Listening to: The Long Way Around by the Dixie Chicks, Pay Dearly by Johnnyswim, and The Good War by Kimbra

CHAPTER III

June 12, 1920: Charleston, SC

“Are you done yet?” Erik sang this question, as he had for the past few days. The pair were in Cade’s Atlas, Erik watching Audrey paint broad border lines and etch forests into existence.

“Didn’t your momma tell you a watched pot never boils Mr. Stevens?”

“My momma’s been in penitentiary since I was six.”

“I—I’m so sorry.” Shock staggered Audrey’s words. Over the past few days, Mr. Stevens watched Audrey work. He was a fairly quiet audience, questioning her technique and methods not to challenge her, but for his own edification. He rarely shared anything personal, unless it had to do with Wakanda.

“Pigs take anyone they can.” Erik shrugged, but Audrey had a feeling it wasn’t as casual as he played it off to be.

“Do you ever go see her?”

“She told me not to.”

Erik could remember the day they took her away. It was the last time he cried. His whole world sat out on the porch, mom pouring lemonade and dad rocking in a chair. Erik was playing with something, though he couldn’t remember what. Sirens whined louder and louder as they approached the house. Erik’s mother turned to him, eyes soft.

“Don’t come looking for me.” Tires screeched on the pavement.

“But Ma!” Car doors slammed.

“You don’t need to see me like that baby. Promise me you won’t come.” Men shouted, boots pounded on the steps, N’Jobu placed his hand on Erik’s shoulders.

“I—I promise momma.” The pigs pulled her away before he could utter another word.

“Just give me another hour. I’ll be done then, I promise.” Audrey’s voice, low and cautious, pulled Erik back to the present. Audrey decided she was done questioning Killmonger for the day, and focused on the map.

When Audrey opened the note from Mrs. Kae, she was disappointed. It was only a few words, more of a riddle than a clue: Wakandan blood runs strong and rings true, but the key we are given glows bold and blue. Gibberish. Audrey didn’t bother showing it to Erik, but she didn’t want to throw it away either. She taped it in the last page of her sketchbook, returning to the page to puzzle over the words after Erik left the shop every day for lunch.

Audrey kept a list of notes on Wakanda’s possible whereabouts next to her as she drew. Mrs. Kae had mentioned the sea and a forest, so Audrey knew she was looking for something on the coast. North or South? Erik had mentioned that before everything “went to shit” he remembered his father taking business trips to Wakanda. He informed Audrey that his father would return with gifts from “home” for him and his mother the next day. That meant that it couldn’t have been more than a few hours drive from Charleston. North or South? Klaue had only mentioned a ferryman and the silent water. Audrey decided to interpret that as a fact that the bridge to Wakanda wasn’t on a rocky bluff. The closest thing to that description was the Francis Marion National Forest to the North.

The fact that Wakanda was unmapped is what made Audrey’s brain hurt the most. Even with all of the information she was able to pull and rationalize, Audrey could still be wrong. She could be miles off. Or the whole place could just not exist. That was the most frustrating part for Audrey. She hated to think that all of this work she was putting in would be worthless if Wakanda isn’t real.

The map had taken longer than usual because she was constantly fighting herself for trusting Erik’s word, a criminal’s word, that Wakanda exists. Audrey did her best to remind herself of Killmonger’s seedy background otherwise she might find herself beginning to like him. She began to make up outrageous stories about him to keep her feelings in check. Erik brought her dinner? He probably picked it up from Roland’s after punching a man and leaving him to drown in his own blood in a city gutter somewhere. Erik brought her a new set of ink pens? He probably found them on the black market or stole them from an art store three towns over. Or he could just be nice… Audrey shook herself from her spiraling mind. Mr. Stevens is a client, nothing more.

“Okay, I’m done.” Erik leaned over Audrey’s shoulder, admiring the map and inhaling her scent. Fresh parchment and brown sugar.

“Well then baby doll, It was nice doing business with you.” Erik reached to grab the map, a sort of listless sadness falling to his gut, but Audrey snatched it out of his reach.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m coming with you to find Wakanda.”

“Says who?”

“I do. I made the damn map Stevens!”

“Yeah and?” Audrey was too busy flitting around the shop to see Erik’s unimpressed expression. “What about your momma? You just gon leave her with the shop?”

“Yes I am. She can handle the shop, she’s done it before. I’m going.” Audrey was out of the door and hopping up the stairs to her apartment when she finished. She dragged Erik along to make sure he didn’t drive off without her. “Just have to grab a few things…”

Audrey ignored Erik’s grumblings as she pushed her way through the apartment door, bee-lining to her bedroom and dragging out a backpack she had only used a few times. It was bulkier than she was used to, but she had no idea how long this search would take. Erik on the other hand was frozen in the kitchen. Sure, he’d been into women’s bedrooms before, but he wasn’t here for that. Erik was beginning to believe that Audrey would never see him as anything other than a client, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to test her limits either. He’d gotten what he wanted, the map was within his reach, but he didn’t want to shake Audrey either.

Erik surprised himself when he admitted that he wanted a partner on this trip. Someone to share the frustration in the search, the joy in the discovery and the disappointment should things go wrong. Don’t think like that Erik. Don’t think that shit into existence. Instead of staying in his own mind, Erik observed Audrey’s tiny apartment. The kitchen was covered in paintings of the world. France opening to a window over the silver sink and Greece crawling across the cupboard doors. The wood floor creaked as Audrey flitted back and forth, shoving one last shirt into her bag and grabbing her pencil case.

“All done!” Audrey bounded down the stairs, Erik following slowly behind.

“You’re really going to leave your mom?”

“I’ll write her a note.”

“Are you sure that will be en—” Erik stopped short when they arrived back in the shop. Audrey breezed past him, kissing her mother on the cheek and grabbing a few maps on the table behind her.

“Ma! I was just abut to write you a note.” In a moment of brattiness, Audrey turned to Erik to stick her tongue out.

“I’m going on a research trip with Mr. Stevens.” Audrey’s mother nodded to her. She had done this plenty of times, running to the nearest train station and hopping on the express to explore another state. It was all a part of the job.

“Alright honey. You be careful.” She gave Audrey what looked to be a bone crushing hug, releasing her after a few moments and turning to Erik.

“I’d like to speak with you before you go Mr. Stevens.” This time Audrey stopped short, wondering what her mother was up to. “Go on Audrey, he’ll meet you at the car in just a minute.” Audrey pushed down the embarrassment she had from being shooed away by her mother and walked out of Cade’s Atlas, refusing to linger at the door.

“Audrey is my only child, I try to let her do what she wants, but I’m still her momma. Now, I don’t know what the two of you are up to, but if you hurt my girl, there will be a price to pay.” Killmonger admired the strength in Mrs. Cade’s delivery. He even laughed a little at her last statement.

“Mrs. Cade, is that a threat?” Erik didn’t have to wonder where Audrey got her fire from.

“Of course not. You of all people should know it’s a promise.” Mrs. Cade’s voice dripped with serpentine sweetness and Erik’s vicious smile mirrored her own.

“I’ll return her in one piece Mrs. Cade. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

—o—

With the map in hand and a tank full of gas, the pair of explorers could have set off that second, but Erik had a few things to take care of in town. He parked in front of Oakies as usual, opening Audrey’s door in a heartbeat. Instead of following him in though, she made her way to Junie’s Sweet Shop. If she was really on her way to discover Wakanda, she needed to see her best friend one last time.

When she entered, Audrey tried to remember every little detail. She didn’t know when she’d be back. She waved to the kids out front, giving their new puppy a scratch before making her way to the back. Junie was slamming a wad of dough down on the counter. It hit the linoleum with a slap and the scent of cinnamon and sugar flew through the air to Audrey.

“I’m gonna miss your cinnamon scrolls?” Junie looked up to see Audrey’s exaggerated pout as she whined.

“Why are you gonna miss them young lady? Going somewhere?”

“Kind of. I mean yeah I’m leaving for a bit. I came to say goodbye.” In all the time she’d known her, Audrey had never made a point to say goodbye to Junie. If she ever left, it was never for more than a few days and Junie would see Audrey at the shop the second she returned. Junie could tell that something was different this time.

“Goodbye?”

“For a little while I guess. I’m going on a research trip…with Mr. Stevens.”

“With Killmonger?” Junie narrowed her eyes, though her hands never stopped kneading the dough she was working on. Audrey flinched at the laser focus Junie had on her.

“Are you sure you aren’t eloping?”

“Junie, what? No! Why would you say that?” Audrey sputtered question after question while Junie shrugged.

“People talk Audrey. They’ve seen his ride at your shop all hours of the day…” Junie trailed off suggestively, and Audrey slapped her on the arm.

“We are not eloping. We’re going to find Wakanda. It’s a research trip.” Audrey did her best to emphasize the professional nature of this trip but Junie ignored that in favor of her own assumptions.

“I’m sure you can elope in Wakanda.”

“Junie! We’re not getting married. Now can you pack us something sweet for the road?” Audrey did her best to reign in her frustration. Junie loved to tease Audrey about any and all gentlemen callers she had. She wasn’t technically wrong, Mr. Stevens had spent a lot of time at Cade’s Atlas while Audrey was making the map, but that didn’t mean anything was going on with them.

Junie filled a small box with cookies and muffins and Audrey requested more, sliding a $20 bill into Junie’s pocket.

“Audrey! You take that back! I don’t want your money.”

“Too bad!” In reality Audrey just wanted $20 worth of sweets, because if all she got was that little box, it would be gone before she could blink. In the time they’d spent together, Audrey found that Mr. Stevens tended to eat most of her sweets. She was beginning to think those gold fangs were fillers for cavities instead of intimidation tactics.

Junie loaded up two more cake boxes full of treats and the two women hugged their goodbye. Arms full, Audrey crossed the street to Oakies. Someone opened the door for her and she entered the juice joint for what could very well be her last time. On stage a woman murmured about ‘hell, calling me home’ with a cellist by her side and some kind of electric piano in front of her. She waved to the bartender, taking a seat at the golden booth Mr, Stevens claimed as his throne.

“Killmonger sir, Ms. Cade has returned.” Erik nodded to his best bartender, Emerson as he gathered his bags. Killmonger had already put his club in the right hands, contacted his distributor’s and warned them of his hiatus, and ensured that Mrs. Floyd could air out his apartment every few days. He wasn’t quite sure how long this whole search could take. He gathered the envelope from his father last, and made his way to Audrey.

“Finished with your goodbyes baby doll?” Audrey stood and narrowed her eyes at his tone.

“What? The biggest bootlegger in the County doesn’t have anyone to say goodbye to?” Audrey’s tone was teasing, but for the first time Erik truly thought about it. Most of his colleagues were just that, colleagues. Erik didn’t do friends. Too messy and too much work. But, Audrey may be on to something. There was someone who had been on his mind since this morning. Years longer than that if he was being honest with himself.  

“There might be one person. If you don’t mind a little road trip?”

—o—

June 12, 1920: Ridgeland Correctional Institution; Ridgeland, SC

Audrey should really stop agreeing to road trips with criminals. The pair, well Erik, had packed everything into the car with ease. Erik barely allowed Audrey to carry the pastries to the car, and she wanted to kick her fluttering heart for reacting at his gentile act. Mr. Stevens could be kind when he wanted, but Audrey hasn’t forgotten that threat. She doubted she ever would which is why she was pinching herself for agreeing to yet another road trip with Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens.

Erik felt…unsure of how he felt. He tried to rationalize his choice as he sped South. Audrey was silent, reading some book about tides and sketching periodically. For once he wished she would open her big mouth and talk, if only for a distraction. Erik needed a distraction so he could stop thinking about what he was about to do. He missed his mother. Of course he missed her, but he made her a promise and he was about to break it. He was about to break a promise he kept for over a decade. All to say goodbye.

���Don’t come looking for me.”

Erik took the long way around. He’d mapped out a route to the Ridgeland Correctional Institution when his mother had first been taken. He knew every road that ran through it, every conceivable way to get to his mother. Still, he never once took it. He’d planned elaborate escape plans in his head, even thought of assembling a team at one point, but never acted on it. He soaked up every detail of the place, from the rotting wooden sign to the cracked pavement.

As he approached the door, he felt excitement bubbling up. The kind he remembered from childhood, when his father would return from Wakanda with stories and gifts. He was going to see his momma. He felt his heart rise at the prospect of telling his mother he was finally going home. He huffed a quiet disbelieving laugh at the realization. After all of these years, he was returning home. He felt closer to N’Jobu just thinking about it.

Audrey walked cautiously behind Erik. She’d never been to a jail before and certainly not the main penitentiary for the county. Audrey wondered if he was meeting with some criminal before she remembered the conversation they’d had this morning.

“My momma’s been in penitentiary since I was six.”

Erik pulled open the door with the kind of confidence Audrey could never muster when walking into the holding cell of the worst criminals in the state. She saw Erik’s small smile reflected in the window of the door as it swung wide. He held the door and ushered her in, and she watched Erik sign in at the front desk. They waited for a moment in silence, and then Erik was called to the front again.

He disappeared through a slate grey door with an old mean-faced white man following behind. Audrey found herself holding her breath as she waited. She watched the seconds tick by on her watch, doing her best not to catch anyone’s eye. She tried, but she couldn’t help looking at the families that sat waiting. Babies and mothers and brothers and sons all waiting to see someone they loved beyond belief, behind the iron bars of a shitty cell.

She caught the eye of a little boy unintentionally. He was staring at her, and she only turned to look at him when she felt his look. He was young, way too young to be in the waiting room of a prison. He had big brown eyes chubby cheeks and ears he might grow into. She gave him a wave and he waved back happy with the attention. Before she could do anything else, Erik burst through the doors. He strode through the waiting area, right past Audrey, and into the bright, hot day.

“Excuse me.” Audrey waved to get the receptionists attention. The white woman drew her blue eyes up to her face, confused and bewildered.

“My partner went back to see someone, but he just stormed out. Did something happen?”

“Name?”

“Erik Stevens.”

“Oh! Yes m’am something did happen.” Audrey raised a brow, encouraging her to elaborate and quickly. Audrey had no way of knowing if Erik would leave her stranded here.

“He came to see his mother, but she…well she passed away.”

“What?”

“He came to see his mother but she died here a few years ago.” Years? Shouldn’t he have been notified? even if he wasn’t next of kin, he was her son. The courts could have sent him a letter or something. There was no point unloading those questions on this broad though. She didn’t seem to be the type of girl with the answers, but Erik deserved something from this place.

“Did she have any personal affects?”

“We throw everything away after a year if no one comes to pick them up.” The woman got a look at Audrey’s face and apologized. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Sure you are.”

—o—

June 13, 1920: Rantowles, SC

Audrey was happy to see that Erik hadn’t left her stranded, but she wasn’t sure how to breach this conversation. In the end he opened the door for her, and they didn’t talk about anything at all. The sun was falling fast in the sky and Erik pulled over at a motel, got the pair separate rooms and bade Audrey a goodnight.

Erik wanted to shoot himself in the foot for the hope he let find its way into his heart. He should have known his mother would die in that place. Everybody dies there. Everybody dies. The fact that he let himself believe he might still have one parent alive was the dumbest thing he’s done in a long time. He couldn’t believe he was stupid enough to believe he could see her again, after all of these years. He let his self-loathing put him to sleep, praying to Bast or whoever the hell else could hear him that he’d wake up tomorrow feeling better than he did today.

Morning came and Audrey was up with the sun. She spread the map out on her bed again, feeling the forests they would go through to find Wakanda. A knock sounded on her door, followed by a command to be ready in ten minutes. Audrey was glad to see that Mr. Stevens could still talk, even if it was doling out demands. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he must be feeling. She didn’t want to. That didn’t stop her from trying to empathize with the man when they were back in the car and on the road.

“If you want to talk, I’ll listen.” Erik gazed at Audrey for as long as he could before pulling his eyes back to the road. They drove for another hour, Audrey noting the sign for the city of Rantowles again.

“What are we doing here?” Erik only slid the clutch into park and let the automobile idle.

N’Jobu always told Erik if he wanted to come home, he should bring a gift. That’s why he made this pit stop in Rantowles. To pick up a little gift. Ulysses Klaue was waiting outside of his gunmetal grey building with a khaki backpack and a maniacal grin. Audrey couldn’t figure out why the hell Klaue was coming along and she “accidentally” stomped on Erik’s foot when he ushered her out of the front seat and pointed to the back seat.

“I’ve got to be honest, I don’t like the idea of being the third wheel on your honeymoon. Why am I needed along this little adventure again?” Killmonger had an easy answer for Klaue, that Audrey had never even heard before now.

“Audrey’s got most of the location figured out, but having you along will help us to be sure we’re on the right path.” Audrey wanted to slap him for keeping her in the dark, but refrained. Besides, you can only hit so hard from the back seat.

“Alright, I’ll come, I’m due for a vacation anyways.” Audrey tried to ignore the shivers that rippled down her spine as Klaue laughed and they sped north on highway 17.

—o—

June 13, 1920: Francis Marion National Forest; Awendaw, SC

Killmonger pulled into a dirt patch and threw the automobile in park. The trio of explorers hopped out the machine, Audrey begrudgingly accepting the assistance of Erik’s hand. She was still getting the hang of these clunky hiking boots, not to mention the pants. The three of them made quite the group, matching in khaki and burdened with backpacks.

“Does this look familiar to you?”

“It’s dirt and trees boy, I need to get closer if I’m going to remember.” Audrey noted the way Erik’s fist clenched at the word ‘boy’ and prayed he wouldn’t do anything reckless. She warily watch Klaue make his way to the treeline making an aborted movement to follow when Erik pulled her back, into his chest.

“Audrey.” Her head whipped around at the sound of his voice in her ear. She stared at him in disbelief. Sure they spent a lot of time together in the past week, but he’d never dared to touch Audrey.

“Hmm?” Audrey reply was distracted by his scent, and that was not what Erik wanted to hear.

“Audrey! This is serious. You need to stay close to me. No matter what.”

“What?” Audrey heard the urgency in his voice but couldn’t understand it. No, she didn’t trust Klaue, but they weren’t going on some crazy dangerous mission. For all intents and purposes, this was just a hike in the woods.  

“I made a promise to your momma that I would bring you ba—” Erik rolled his eyes as he was interrupted by Klaue.

“What are you two whispering about back there? Come on love birds! It’s time to find the hidden city.” Klaue nearly giggled with glee. Audrey gave Erik a look that shamed him for inviting this crazy man on their hunt for Wakanda but he only nudged her forward with a palm on her back.

Walking across the treelike was like stepping into another world. Suddenly everything was deeper, greener. The trees enveloped the group and Audrey was grateful for the hand on her back. She could get lost in these woods in a heartbeat seeing as they’d barely been mapped. When Audrey had requested the maps to the area, she found the only ones available had been from the parks’ inception. The ragged edges and faded borders had left a lot to be desired and Audrey noted that she should probably convince the state to let her redo the maps when she returned.  

They walked until the sun was high in the sky Klaue leading them north, then south, then west. Audrey protested each time he led them in another direction, but for some reason, Erik listened to Klaue instead of Audrey. In fact, he barely said a word to Audrey the whole time they were out there, instead using the time to banter with Klaue. It’s not that Audrey was jealous, she just couldn’t understand what she had done to make Erik act so cold with her.

Either way, she was sick of their shit. After lunch, she resolved to go her own way, with or without the boys. The trio sat in a clearing where the trees filtered the sunlight. Erik admired the way the light bounced off of Audrey’s brown skin and prayed she remembered their conversation. He had a plan, and she’d already ruined it by coming along. He didn’t need to alter it any further, not even for a pretty little bird.  

“Now Klaue, I think you owe me an explanation.” He pulled a pistol from his back, and Audrey stumbled back, behind Erik. They hadn’t even finished eating. Klaue glanced up, bits of ham hanging from his mouth and falling into his beard.

“Woah boy. What’s all that about?”

“Oh this? Just a little incentive. Why are you leading us on a wild goose chase?” Erik sauntered up to Klaue, and Audrey followed behind, under the guise of getting something from her backpack. She had a feeling this is what Erik meant earlier today when he told her to stay close.

“Boy, you better put that gun away”

“Answer my question.” Erik pressed the pistol into Klaue’s temple.

“You don’t want to go there boy. Those people are savages—”

“Wrong answer.”

Bang! Birds erupted from the trees, wings beating loud like the blades of boat fans. Audrey stumbled, falling on her butt as she gaped at Erik’s back. Erik, meanwhile took his time wiping the blood off of his pistol with Klaue’s own handkerchief. He turned and offered her his hand, but Audrey scrambled back before she scrambled up.

“What the hell was that? He was helping us!”

“Was he? He wasn’t leading us anywhere close to where you think Wakanda might be. He was wasting my time. Our time.” Killmonger was annoyed he even had to explain himself.

“So you shot him?” Audrey fired back and began to pace. “Oh lord, I’ve just witnessed a murder.” She whirled on Erik “You made me witness a murder!”

“You said you wanted to come baby doll.” He sneered the endearment. “Besides, we don’t need him to find Wakanda. You made the damn map.” He tucked his pistol back into his pants, and bent down towards the corpse of Klaue.

“So why would you—” Audrey’s voice gave out and so did she. She had no idea what this man was planning, and at this point she was too shocked to try deciphering him.

“You gon’ help or nah?” Erik was busy moving the food off of the picnic blanket while he spoke and the words came out muffled.

“Absolutely not!” Audrey was offended at the mere suggestion that she might help Killmonger move a dead body.

“Well you either need to help out up or dry up. I’m not trying to hear all that noise.” It had been a while since Killmonger had quickly killed a man, and he forgot how much he reveled in the lingering silence of a dead body.

“Whatever.” Audrey scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Once you’re done with that Stevens, maybe you can do something useful like help me look for the country you’re so keen to find when you aren’t murdering people.”

“Watch your tone baby doll. Don’t forget how easily I can snap your pretty little neck.” Killmonger didn’t need to be close to Audrey to scare her. His threat rang in the air between them while he wrapped Klaue’s corpse in their picnic blanket.

“Besides, any white man who’s been to Wakanda ain’t never had good intentions.”

—o—

With Audrey’s directions, the pair and some ‘luggage’ found themselves on the shore of a sandy beach. No rocks or bluffs, just perfect sand and calm waters. That was enough to bring a smile to Audrey’s face, but she couldn’t see a bridge of any kind. She decided to return to the tree line and look for anything out of the ordinary. This time, Erik trailed behind her, dragging the dead man’s body along quietly.

He didn’t touch her again, even when she tripped and landed on her hands and knees in front of him. He watched her fall, and she looked back to see him staring as she rose. Audrey glared back, ignoring the feeling stirring in her stomach in favor of finding anything that could prove her map right. She finally saw something where the trees kissed the sand and sea.

“What kind of tree is that?” Erik was surprised to hear Audrey speaking to him at all, but drew his gaze to the tree she was talking about.

“I don’t know, it looks like all the others.” It wasn’t, and Audrey could see that. Most of the trees in this region were lushly leafy and slender trunked. This tree was the complete opposite. It had a thick gnarled trunk and was bare branched. It almost looked like it was pasted there not planted in the ground.

“No it doesn’t. It looks like a baobab tree. Baobab trees don’t grow in the South, or in this country at all.”

“So?” Ignoring Erik, Audrey started towards the tree, palms out. It felt like a normal tree, though the bark was smoother than she expected. She stopped down to inspect the trunk, roots, and soil, looking for any sign that this was a sign. Erik was a bit more hesitant, dropping Klaue’s body to the ground with a thud. Before he could touch a fingertip to the tree Audrey spoke.

“You said your dad was from Wakanda right? And that they had their own language? What did it look like?”

“I can’t describe that shit baby doll.”

“Did it look like this?” Erik stooped down beside Audrey brushing her small shoulder with his broad one. He was shocked to see the Wakandan alphabet spelling out: Welcome Home. His breath hitched.

“Yeah. It—” Erik ran his fingers over the tree and for a moment the pair could have sworn it glowed blue. He caressed the letters again and there was another ebb of sapphire light. Audrey grabbed Erik’s wrist and pushed his hand on the tree trunk, holding it there with her own.

“Stevens, put both of your hands on the tree.” Indigo light pulsed through the tree trunk like blood through veins. Erik tried to focus on Audrey’s words and ignore her brown hand on his.

“What?”

“Just do it. I think the tree knows you’re Wakandan.”

“That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever…” Erik couldn’t finish his sentence because the world fell open before him. More specifically, the bridge to Wakanda rose from the sea.

A/N: So this chapter ate my whollllle weekend lol. I wasn’t sure I’d get it out today but it wouldn’t leave me alone either. I thought about breaking it up into two chapters but...that...never...happened? This is basically the end of Part 1 of this story and the rest will be Erik and Audrey in Wakanda, which I’m excited to write! Hope you guys like it!

As always I love reviews and reblogs :)

Taglist: @ontheroadtoenlightenment @thatrandomfangirl98 @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis @dreadedphilosphy @panthergoddessbast @princessstevens @killmoncoochie @queenamaniii

[the-e4b]

Illogical comments by Lilly: Part 3: Statement 2: A defense mechanism revelead

This is part 3 of my post, of Illogical comments by Lilly, for more information go part 1 & 2 here:

Part 1: https://the-e4b.tumblr.com/post/171454275835/illogical-comments-by-lilly-part-1-statement-1

Part 2: https://the-e4b.tumblr.com/post/171603354360/illogical-comments-by-lilly-part-2-statement-2

Also here is the screenshot again for the conversation:

The same as before I am doing this Ace Attorney style.

Lily clearly loves to be called a she because she identify herself as a women, but because of the evidence, I have seen so far. She does not deserve to be called that, I will be referring to Lily, just Lily or just as an it. Yes she does not deserve to be called a human until she acknowledges her disorder.

Argument 1:

9:18 - Spam. See 4:45 10:00 –

HOLD IT!

He just gave you an compliment, so how is that spam? This confirms that again Lily does not know what Spam is. Refer back to part 1.

Argument 2:

You seem like the kind of fellow that has an easy way with words, but a hard time at the same time. This is a self-contradicting statement. Please think about what you're saying BEFORE you're saying. If the best explanation you can give is that you aren't very eloquent, then just don't leave comments instead of running your mouth for the sake of running your mouth.

HOLD IT!

I have to ask here again, why is Lilly putting effort and time here? If she really does not want to invest time and effort here correcting him? And that in Lily’s eyes is well wasted time? Clearly it just wants other people to shut up. Refer to part 2 conclusion to know what I am talking about.

Argument 3:

“Big problem with any kind of discourse is people who have opinions who have no idea WHY they even have their opinions.”

OBJECTION!

If one person isn't as good as the other at expressing themselves clearly, the more advanced person should help them by asking questions about their feelings. Lily, however, seems unwilling to help anyone and give them a chance, and would rather just dismiss the opposition completely.

When Lily said that we needed to be confident with our opinions, Lily didn't seem to understand what confidence actually meant.

TAKE THAT!

Definition of confidence: “the quality of being certain of your abilities.”

Source: https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/confidence

If Lilly claims it is certain of its abilities why is it not trying to understand the other side here and do its best here to prove this person wrong? Well it tells us this:

That she clearly was missing this was the point of the MLP Episode Stranger than Fanfiction --> The conclusion of the episode reflects what I have said.

She does not understand what confidence means (again another sign of ignorance).

Lily is actually running it's mouth, while she wants other people that are running their mouth to shut up.

She is actually uncertain about itsself and this is a defence mechanism

“They seemingly chose them randomly and don't question or develop them any further. And in a discussion where "In my opinion" isn't a viable excuse (which outside the internet is ALL OF THEM) you will hit a wall immediately. “

 “Disabling Likes and Dislikes is not contradicting myself. “The Like and Dislike system has been worthless since its implementation, it's only use being for idiots to rank their opinions on a video without having to think.”

OBJECTION!

This will be a repeat of another comment I made here, where I noticed a contradiction in my questioning of Lily.

Go here: https://the-e4b.tumblr.com/post/171355559580/a-contradiction-i-noticed-in-my-questioning-of

Lilly you are still implying that shallow opinions on entertainment are automatically insignificant or wrong and that people who make them are arrogant and lazy. You actually said it yourself:

“The Like and Dislike system has been worthless since its implementation, it's only use being for idiots to rank their opinions on a video without having to think.”

The only people who care about it being disabled are the people who are too lazy or too stupid to leave a comment worth reading, yet want to pretend their opinion matters anyway. And I don't make content for those people.”

I am gonna say the following here:

People may make shallow opinions not because they're lazy or stupid, but because they want to take a break from the outside world and not have to think deeply. This may be after they've had a long day at work or school or college, or things have been troubling them recently.

The important factor to consider is Time. For many people, constructing a nuanced, thought-out opinion takes up considerable time, given that they may have to watch the source material several times over, as well as to work out how to communicate the most effectively.

Drafting lengthy, nuanced opinions may be enjoyable for some, but not so fun for others. Nuanced opinions aren't necessarily more correct, they're instead more flashy - likely to attract more attention.”

By denying the like or dislike system, you still took that right of opinion away! No matter how much you claim you did not.

“Compared to Audience Retention, which uses data from 100% of viewers to show what people actually liked and disliked about the video by showing what they skipped and what they replayed, the Like/Dislike meter has long since outlived it's usefulness.”

OBJECTION!

The like/dislike bar can tell you a lot about how your video is perceived, but a disproportionate amount doesn’t necessarily mean that this particular video is “worse” than any others. It certainly can mean that, but sometimes, people dislike a video for something completely outrageous.

Yes you can argue because of that last one that it is useless for the content creator. However Audience Retention: Has one Big flaw!

I watch Lilly’s videos and go back to certain points in a video. Not because I personally like it but because I want to analyze some certain points Lilly made.

Granted, I might be the only doing such a thing but to be honest, I do not have the insight on how many people that watch Lilly's youtube videos and that do the things like I do.

It could be 1%,5%,10% of Lily's audience that does this, I just cannot say because I am lacking a metric unit I cannot see here. The Like/Dislike system.

I can compare how many Likes and Dislikes the videos has in comparison to the on how many times it was viewed. Not everyone leaves a like and dislike after all.

It might be useless as a content creator. But not for the audience.

And again this is evidence, and what she really thinks of her audience.

Argument 4:

“The only people who care about it being disabled are the people who are too lazy or too stupid to leave a comment worth reading, yet want to pretend their opinion matters anyway. And I don't make content for those people”

Then I am asking to you, who are you making content for then? Lilly clearly has one kind of audience in mind. Considering what I have said in Part 1 and Part 2 it is obvious! Another sign of Narcissism.

There was a certain other conversation going above here and oh boy…it is juicy evidence:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wns_5c03JcM&lc=UgisrLWD3gJZ33gCoAEC

Going to the following response that Lilly made:

“In reality, nobody worth their salt as an intellectual thinker would believe the Youtube comments section to be anything other than a cesspit of horrible people precisely BECAUSE most Youtubers refuse to moderate their comments sections. The fact that this very comment chain exists and that I'm wasting my time trying to explain an obvious situation to people who aren't going to listen anyway is itself proof. People who believe "moderation = censorship" are the reason Youtube's comments section are garbage. If you still believe that this is nothing more than a circle jerk after reading through all the examples of me engaging with people in the comments, you're just an idiot. Plain and simple. You're a fucking idiot believing whatever makes them feel more comfortable.”

Yeah…Lily clearly shot itself in the foot here. I have gone through the comment section and I clearly see some arguments, that Lilly is still being a jerk. Does this make me an idiot or is Lily the Idiot here?

You know what People, do what I did, take screenshots of the conversations Lilly is in and post them here. Prove Lilly wrong here, dig in the comment section of her video’s, take screenshots. REBLOG all my three posts.

CONCLUSSION!

Part 1: Sings of Ignorance and Bias

Signs of ignorance, also clearly a Bias of who it wants to listen to or not. This is understandable somewhat, but I am questioning this, because it does not want to admit this.

Clearly people who agree with her get priority, or at least too stupid so that they go on their knees and "worship her” by saying Lilly is 100% right.

Part 2: Further evidence for Part 1 and the mindset she has

Lilly has a mindset that should not be surprised that it would not only be interpreted as arrogant, ignorant, hypocritical, illogical but also and here is the kicker (Ironically) disrespectful to that person’s opinion and even more insulting to the right of Freedom of Speech. Even though Lilly is claiming you are not against it, you actually mean the opposite.

Part 3: Further evidence for part 2 and singns of defense mechanism.

Clear signs of a defense mechanism, and only seeing things from here side and not ignoring the flaws in her reasoning.

MAIN CONCLUSSION!

DeathlyTaco already made analysis of Lily so I am gonna quote him here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TcGcKh7hQWI&lc=Ugy8Ima7OcxcSKSqm8l4AaABAg

Patterns:

Black-and-white thinking

Extremes of idealization and Emotional abuse

Mood swings/depression

Refusal to take responsibility for own actions

Projecting faults onto others

Possible Diagnosis: an actual personality disorder along the lines of Borderline Personality or Narcicisstic Personality. The fact that she still has that charming/funny/artistic/creative side that draws people in is further characteristic of such a disorder.

Actual Psychology guess of what is going on in Lily's mind:

"My emotional life is completely fucked up, so I'm gonna develop malignant coping/defense mechanisms that drag everyone down with me."

Kind of sad an pity-full. Too bad it will be Lilly's downfall in the end.

[gold3nberry]

She Is Her Own Knight

The dearest @gugle1980 has been one of my first followers and I can’t say enough how important she is for this fandom! She reblogs, comments, sends lovely messages and support so many artists that a thank you is not enough. So, I did the only thing I could think about to express my gratitude, and I wrote a little thing for you, dear @gugle1980 , starring your lovely Anya Trevelyan. I hope you like it!!!

Anya Trevelyan X Cullen Rutherford

“I must admit, Inquisitor,” the pale man smirked, “that your little castle is far more charming than I expected.” ”Thank you, Your Grace.” The Inquisitor added a short smile, thinking she couldn’t wait for the noble to leave her “little castle”. Judging from the other guests at their table, neither could they. Cassandra was clearly fed up with the man repeatedly pointing out how well he knew her uncle in Nevarra, how much of an honor it was to see another Nevarran in that part of Thedas. Josephine seemed to deal with him better than the rest of the little group, graciously helping the conversation and shielding the others as much as she could. ”And tell me, lady Inquisitor;” the noble inquired drinking a generous sip of wine “don’t you miss your Country? Surely living between the mountains, surrounded mostly by rocks and brute soldiers” he pointedly looked out at Cullen “it can’t be very fun.” “I fear fun it’s not what I’m searching for, during a war.” As she spoke, Anya saw a muscle twitching on Cullen’s face. She was sure her Commander wasn’t going to do anything improper, but she felt it was safer to throw a subtle glance to Josephine. Her Ambassador cleverly and swiftly changed the subject, encouraging their guest to speak about his estate. Again.

Anya sighed quietly and Cullen looked at her sympathetically. The Nevarran Duke had arrived four days prior bringing some gifts for the Inquisition from King Marcus of Nevarra and he didn’t seem very eager to leave.  As they were listening to the man describing the dozens of marble fountains in his gardens, a servant arrived. The man wore a livery embroidered with the Duke’s crest and was holding a little box. ”Ah, finally!” the Duke interrupted his speech with a huge grin “I was waiting for this to arrive. Lady Inquisitor, may I have the honor of a private meeting? I wish to discuss something very important with you.” Anya, Cullen, Cassandra and Josephine stilled for a moment, but Anya was the first to collect herself “I’m sure you don’t have anything to say that my friends can’t hear.” The man seemed unsure for a single moment, before shrugging “Very well, my lady. Allow me to proceed, then. First of all, I have heard voices about your beauty and braveness before my arrival, but I needed to see you in person, before deciding. So, I offered myself for this mission. I wanted to see in person the famous Inquisitor. I’m glad I found you as perfect as I expected.” With a gesture, the Duke opened the lid of the box, revealing a golden ring. A huge diamond rested on the top, spreading everywhere iridescent glares. ���You have met my expectations and I’m honored to ask you to marry me, lady Anya Trevelyan of Ostwick. I’m persuaded that a marriage between us would empower your position as Inquisitor and I’m sure we’re a great match for each other. Let me be your husband and guidance during this war. Together, we can aim at the glory.” The man stood up, handing out his hand for her to grab. Anya stood up as well, slower. Cullen looked at her and waited, his face unmoved but his hand firmly holding the armrest of his seat. Anya’s sincere smile was for him. Then, she looked at the Duke, and her smile was gone. “Your Grace, I disagree with you. First of all,” she mimicked his tone “we surely aren’t a good match. I’m not a woman searching for glory. I’m just a woman who is trying to save the world because she thinks it’s the right thing to do. Nothing more. About the need for guidance, I agree with you. I need it.” She looked proudly at Cassandra, Josephine and Cullen “And thank the Maker, I already have it.” They all stood up as one. Anya continued “For these reasons, I’m sorry but I have to reject your proposal.” The people around them probably didn’t hear everything, but they surely had an idea of what was happening. The rejected nobleman threw at them a scornful glare. Then, he put the box in his pocket, as Anya and her entourage sitten back, formally putting an end to the meeting. When their eyes met, any pretense of kindness was gone “You know, Inquisitor, someone once said that the higher you go, the more painful the fallen will be. In your shoes, I would be more careful of how I treat people who can mess with someone. That interesting hand of yours can’t always save your life.” The entire garden stilled. Or so it seemed. Anya sensed, more than seeing it, Cullen’s anger rolling quickly out of him in heating waves. She knew he had fisted his hands and his eyes were darkened in fury. He would react the same if their guest had threatened anyone, but Anya knew that his anger would be more controlled. Not an inch less dangerous, but not so obvious. He and Cassandra were ready to punch that man and kick his silk - dressed ass down the mountain as soon as she gave them the permission. She gently grabbed Cullen’s hand under the table, squeezing it until it relaxed a bit. They laced their fingers together and she knew he understood how much she appreciated his support. Josephine herself had straightened her back further and was looking at the man with clear disgust “Duke Kaistald, maybe you would like to apologize to Your Worship? Skyhold’s wine can get to someone’s head pretty quickly, I fear.” Only a fool would mistake Josephine’s gracious words for a simple display of courtesy, underestimating the Ambassador of the Inquisition and her rage. “Oh, lady Ambassador, I was just pointing out that the Inquisition needs more power and the Inquisitor is a noblewoman from a little Country. She just needs to be more careful. Not everyone is intimidated by her work, I fear.” Yes, Anya realized, he was that fool. “So, you’re saying me, Your Grace” the Inquisitor started nonchalantly “that except for my marked hand, I’m not able to defend myself and I need a husband?” “Every woman needs a man in her life. And in her bed.” She held tighter Cullen’s hand, sending him a message with a single glare “Let me take care of this.” Cullen’s lips were almost disappeared in a thin line, but he nodded faintly. “Very well, Duke” Anya smiled “I suppose we should see if you fit the role as well as you think. What about a match in the courtyard, for everyone to see your braveness?” The Duke’ smile trembled a bit “Your Worship?” “Well, if you wanted to marry me just to protect a poor unknown noblewoman as I am, and not at all because your family needs money and power, I demand to see how good you are.” Before he could object, she slowly stood again and she made sure to speak loud enough for everyone in the courtyard to hear. “We have a motto, in my little Country” she grinned, beautiful and feral like lynx “about a man’s value in the bedroom: it matches the one in the training ring.” There was a little crowd in the courtyard, as soon as Skyhold knew the Duke was going to fight the Inquisitor. And the Skyhold people shouted their happiness seeing the nobleman thrown in the dust after a short sparring match. So short, actually, that someone complained they didn't arrive in time to see anything interesting. Anya retreated her dagger, noting with satisfaction the hole in his embroidered sleeve “I suppose we don’t have anything else to say, Duke. Gather your party and all your stuff, and leave Skyhold immediately.” He scrambled out of her reach quickly “You will regret this outrage. I will speak to the king and this offense won’t stay unpunished!” “King Marcus has already been informed of your behavior, I’m sure.” Anya shrugged, unimpressed, sheathing her daggers. Josephine’ smile was positively dangerous “Indeed he has, lady Inquisitor. Sister Nightingale has already taken care of this unpleasant matter. And I’m sure His Majesty will be less than pleased to hear that the Duke repaid so poorly our hospitality. Especially after the treaty sealed between the king and the lady Inquisitor.” The noble bit his lip, as if he was going to decide if spitting on both the Inquisitor and her Ambassador or screaming an insult. But he didn’t have the chance to do neither of them. Cullen had clearly had enough of all the situation.  He bowed to Anya “Inquisitor, I think the Duke needs a little help to find his carriage.” “I do not need any…” “By all means, Commander,” Anya smirked.  Their now unwelcome guest was tall, but Cullen was taller and angrier. He grabbed the other man by his collar and forced him to walk where his carriage was waiting. He shoved the Duke inside the carriage and slammed the door. Hours later, when the Duke was already far away, escorted by some Inquisition’s soldiers, Anya and Cullen were comfortably sitting on the sofa in her bedroom. Far away from their official roles, lovingly wrapped in each other arms, Cullen kissed softly her lips “Are you alright?” “I am. He just reminded me… old unpleasant memories.” He kissed her again, longer, cradling her face in his hands. Her smile was full of affection “That was nice. Give me another.” “As you wish, Inquisitor.” he chuckled. She sighed, curling her tongue around his, and holding him as close as possible.  He moved her hair away from her neck and peppered her skin of open-mouthed kiss. Anya ran her fingers through his curls, messing playfully with them. They basked in their mutual love, enjoying to make the other moan slightly with clever touches and long, lazy kisses. Much, much later, as they lay sated and entangled in her bed, Cullen smiled at her “You should rest, it has been a long day.” “Stay with me tonight?” she asked, kissing his shoulder. He pulled her closer, embracing her with care and affection “As you wish, my dear lady Inquisitor.” Anya yawned, snuggling and shifting against him. “Cullen?”  “Yes, my dear?” “Thank you for today.” “I didn’t do anything.” “You trusted me to do well all by myself. That man will never understand the importance to love someone as his equal.” Cullen kissed the top of her head “If I hadn't wish to beat him, I would pity him.” She smiled, her eyes closing slowly “Good night, dear. Sleep well.”

[ask-de-writer]

KURIN’S FOLLY : World of Sea : Part 3 of 15

KURIN’S FOLLY

Part 3

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

23,699 words

© 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

writing begun  2006

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

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All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  Part 1 is here

///////////////////////

“Very well.  Master Juris having declined to open the meeting, as Captain, I shall.  The Combined Councils of the Longin are now in session.  By default, the Purser, in her role as ship’s legal officer will chair the meeting and present the issue that has forced this emergency meeting.  Are you ready, Alor?”

In a heavy voice the gray haired, elderly woman replied, “No.  I shall never be ready for a duty this hard.  I will do it, though.

“Simply put, the actions of one person have placed the entire ship in jeopardy of dissolution, renaming and total crew Scattering along with the execution of at least three more of our crew.  The Wergeld agreement with the Grandalor that shields us from this disaster is now in danger of being dissolved.”

Master Juris snorted angrily, “The damned Wergeld!  It’s tied us to the Grandalor!  That stupid thing is an Arrakan Fleet custom. This is the Naral Fleet.  It shouldn’t even be recognized at all!”

Alor took the interruption in stride saying, “I almost agree with you.  The Wergeld is the only thing standing between you, Juris, and execution. If I had to choose between you and this ship, the choice would be easy.  It’s a pity that letting you swim to Iren will also cost us the Longin!”

Master Juris’ jaw dropped. “What do you mean?” he demanded.  “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

Alor shook her head.  Looking straight at Master Juris, she asked, “No?  What is the penalty for trying to influence an officer of the court by bribe or threat?”

He responded, “A swim to Iren’s halls, everyone knows that!”

Alor said gently, “When we were being investigated by the Naral Fleet Court for the piracy attempt against the Grandalor, didn’t you, as the senior representative of our Combined Councils, threaten to call an expulsion vote against Kurin?”

Still surly, Master Juris replied, “I was furious at her.  I still am. So what?”

Making a little come hither gesture, Alor coaxed, “And as the Grandalor’s advocate she was a what?”  As Master Juris’ silence drew out, she answered her own question.  “Kurin was an officer of the court.  

“Since you made your threat directly in front of the fleet’s judge, the case against you was prima facie.  Captain Sarfin had already drawn up your death warrant. I’ve seen the document.”

Incredulously, Master Juris demanded, “Then why am I here now?”

Alor pointed to Kurin and said, “There sits your answer.  When Kurin negotiated the Wergeld, she carefully worded it to include your offense without stating it directly.  You owe her thanks for your life, not hate.”  She sat, leaving Master Juris in shock.

Alor turned to Captain Mord and said, “I’m sick at heart.  Can you please carry the rest of this?”

Captain Mord drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “We were incensed and hurt when Kurin did not show up for her welcome party.  Now we know why.  Master Juris was given the job of sending her the invitation in the hope that the responsibility would help him set aside some of his ire.

“Instead of doing as ordered by this Council, he sent Kurin this note.”  He displayed the copy of Master Juris’ note for all to read.

Mistress Daeron took one look and said angrily to Master Juris, “You lied to us!  When she was late, you said that you sent the invitation and that she wasn’t coming.

“She had to chase us down with the Grandalor to keep her promise to come and help us.  Your lies had us all so angry that nobody even showed up to help her come aboard!”

The short, motherly woman turned to Kurin and said, “I don’t know how to apologize to you, Kurin. This was an awful thing.  We should never have trusted Master Juris.”

Kurin replied gently, “I understand.  He’s always been a  reliable man before, if sometimes difficult.  I would have trusted him myself, in your place.”

Mistress Daeron turned to Captain Mord and asked, “There’s more, isn’t there?  Something has endangered the ship, Alor said.  She’s not given to exaggeration.”

Master Juris rudely cut in and jerked a thumb at Kurin.  “That something is sitting right there. Your little white-haired saint.  She filed a Wergeld violation against us.”

The accusation actually made Kurin angry.  She stood suddenly, eyes blazing, white hair flying, High Cloud flapping for balance.  She pointed at Master Juris and exclaimed, “That is why I filed the complaint!  Even now, in front of you all, he lies about me.  The complaint was a provisional one, a preliminary to a violation complaint.  Subject to withdrawal if investigation showed good reason for the events.  He knows the difference but still tries to create more bad feeling!

“Alor, do you have an actual copy of the Wergeld here?”

She rummaged in her records and pulled out a few pages.  “Yes, Kurin.  This is it.”

“Would you please read out the portion of the rules of the Wergeld relating to behavior of the parties?”

Alor took a moment to find her place and read, “All parties to this Wergeld must lay aside all rancor and animus toward each other or this Wergeld is dissolved and all of its covered cases must go before the appropriate courts of law for settlement.”  She looked up with haunted eyes and surveyed the entire Combined Councils of the Longin and said, “These simple words are our doom or salvation.

“Master Juris, can you not see how far onto dry land your behavior is?  If we are not to be dragged to destruction in your wake, we have few choices.

“We can renounce you for endangerment of the ship, remove you from the crew roster and put you off on the first ship that we meet or the next Gathering, whichever comes first.  If we do that, your death warrant will be put into force.  You will swim to Dark Iren.

“Our second possible course is to declare you to be insane.  You will be, like Kurin’s mother, Lissa, entrusted with only the simplest of tasks and, by law, need to be watched at all times.  You will lose your Master’s Certificate and your shop.  Your accounts will be frozen against your recovery. When we judge that you have safe water under your keel, we can restore all except your Master’s Certificate.  That matter will be in the hands of the Fleet Craft Council.

“Finally, we can remove you from all posts of responsibility in the ship’s governance and try trusting your promise to behave in regard to Kurin and the Grandalor. If you fail us, we can decide which of the two other things we should do.

“These are now the only options that you have left open to us.”

“Me?” exclaimed Master Juris in outrage.  “If she hadn’t gone to the Grandalor in the first place none of this would have happened at all!  It’s her fault and hers alone!”   He thrust his hand violently at Kurin, pointing and trying to swat High Cloud off her shoulder at the same time.

Two things happened so fast that many there did not even see them occur even though they were all watching Master Juris’ outburst.  High Cloud’s claws rent large rips in Kurin’s shoulder padding as he maintained his place and jabbed with his beak at the offending hand.  Kurin’s knife, ten inches of the finest razor honed Lesser Dragon fang, leaped up in her hand and struck Master Juris’ wrist away.  At the same instant, Kurin kicked back out of her chair and landed in a combat guard, watching Master Juris over the edge of her knife.

A shocked group watched as Master Juris cradled his injured hand.  Blood was welling from the back of it where High Cloud had defended himself, striking to bone, and there was another cut to the bone on the side of his wrist where Kurin had entered the fray with her knife.

In quietly dangerous tone, Kurin said, “Don’t attack either of us again. Rookery Flock all defends its own.  That’s why there are no tame Wide Wings.”

The ship’s doctor was tending to Master Juris’ wounds and looked up curiously at Kurin’s statement.  “Rookery Flock?  Do you consider yourself to be a bird?”

That brought a smile to Kurin’s lips, and she relaxed her guard, putting away the big knife in her sash-belt sheath.  “No, Doctor, I’m not a bird.  Still, I am part of the Grandalor Rookery.  I’ve known High Cloud since just before he hatched.  I felt his mind beginning to stir in the egg.  I’ve taken my place and spent time caring for all the young ones and feeding them.  I do have a bond with them all that sometimes overrides my personal safety issues.  Dari has said that we humans who participate in the rookery life and are accepted by the adult Wide Wings are part of the rookery.  Who am I to question a Great Sea Dragon?”

Master Juris looked up from the bandaging of his arm and snarled, “How would you know what a Great Sea Dragon thinks?”

Kurin said offhandedly, “Blind Mecat remains fond of this ship, from her time in human form among us.  She asked me not to file a full violation complaint with the Council.  The message was relayed through Dari, who was nearby. Captain Tanlin and I had a long talk with her.  I like her.  She’s fun.”

Master Juris subsided with a muttered, “Hard aground and sinking fast.”

Alor overheard him and retorted tartly, “At last, you recognize your folly?”  Then, she turned to Kurin and said, “I think that we need to know what the basis of your provisional complaint is.  How hard aground are we?  Is it a sandbar or a reef?”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS ~ NEXT==>

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 63 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 63 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

“I have to guess that he had lost track of the poisoned kit.  He ran several inventories of all the tools for sale, apparently trying to find it.  

“Master Selked’s mark had been sloppily placed on the tools and the kit was an obvious second.  I think that’s why Kurti took it.  She used it for mending fabrics in this cabin and kept it on that shelf.  I have to guess that she never used the awl because the fabrics she was working with were light weight.”

Barad leaned over and held out his bed hanging.  “This velvet was worn. She fixed it so that you can’t even see where the wear was.  I love Tanlin but I still miss Kurti.”  He let the hanging fall with a sigh and went back to his narrative.

“Mister Morgu finally figured out that the kit was here and sent Silor to get it.  They went ahead with the plot on their own.  We caught them just minutes after you were poisoned and the sailor from the Grython had taken his prize away.”

Kurin was outraged but not in the way that Barad had expected.  “You mean that you let Kurti use that deadly sewing kit?  Did she really die of lung parasites?  Ord can make you cough blood, too!  I’ve seen it!”

Barad was taken aback.  “She simply took a kit from stores.  I didn’t know it was the poisoned kit!  Yes, she died of lung parasites!  Her infection was well advanced when I gave her the cabin-girl job!  She hated going onto the invalid list and being forced to do no work.  I gave her something that she could do!  

“If I could have, I would have traded away this ship to stop her infection!” he paused for breath, then quietly went on.  “I told you that miss her still.  Were there any loophole in the Marriage Laws, I’d have married her, dying or no!

“Tanlin’s awakening just when she did saved my heart and possibly my mind.  At first, the physical resemblance to Kurti drew me to her.  It was quickly obvious that Tanlin is a very different person.  As I helped her to recover (Doctor Corin would probably say ‘got in his way’), I came to love her.”

Kurin softened, “I have seen the medical records and talked to Lady Tanlin.  I was off course.  I apologize.”

“Accepted.”

“You know, Barad, I have to get you off, if it can be done.  I hope for the sake of the Naral fleet that I succeed.”

Barad leaned forward, suddenly intense.  “Why?  We have agreed to submit to fleet justice.  They can do whatever the laws allow.”

Kurin gave him a slightly grim look as she answered, “You have.  Tanlin has.  Your crew will fight to the death to save the both of you, and you have the only war equipped ship in the fleet.  Some, Darkistry among them, regretted that it was necessary to ram the Fauline to get you back.  None of them is sorry that they did it.  They got you back and that is the only thing that matters to them.

“I think that even if you ordered your crew to accept a death verdict that encompassed either you or Lady Tanlin, you’d have a mutiny. They’d fight the Great Dragons themselves to save the two of you.

“If Sula and Huld are still here, they will probably have to sink this ship to stop the destruction that will certainly follow a death warrant or a Scattering order.  That would hurt Sula more than you know.  It would not stop her.  I don’t want to see any of that happen.”

Kurin rose and went to the door.  Before going out, she said, “The good news is that I will be able to represent you, as well as the rest. Now I need to see Purser Morgu and Silor.  Then I can begin drafting cases.”

Tanlin was waiting outside the door.  “T’ank ye,” she said simply. Further down the hallway, she motioned a guard aside from a door. “Morgu’s in ‘ere.  Silor’s been kept in t’e next cabin.  Oi t’ink t’at ye do need guards for t’ese twa.  Oi’ll be ane an’ Kimson ‘ere will be t’other.”  She drew the bolts and lifted the bars that blocked the door from sliding.

Kurin was suddenly struck by a thought.  She stopped Tanlin from sliding the door open.  “Does Mister Morgu know that I am alive?”

“Oi’ve nae seen fit t’ tell him so,” was Tanlin’s reply.

Kurin gave her an impish look.  “Don’t be surprised at how I deal with this interview then.  Wait a bit.”  She ran off toward the galley. It was about twenty minutes before she returned.  She was carrying what looked like two paddle duck eggs, a small packet and a tiny candle in her thinly gloved hands.  One egg was dyed a red color, the other a brownish hue.

Kurin hid them in her sash and conferred with Tanlin and Kimson for a moment.  They entered the cabin, Tanlin and Kimson first.  Tanlin guarded the doorway.  Kimson searched the room, then took his place on the other side of the door.

Morgu asked, “What’s the occasion, Tanlin?”

She held her silence.  A pillar of fine dust appeared inside the doorway. It disappeared with a flash of flame and Kurin was standing quietly in its place.  She just stood and looked at Morgu.  It took him a second to realize just who he was seeing.

“You’re dead!” he recoiled from Kurin but the cabin wall stopped his further retreat.

“I was.  You heard the whales?  I came back.  I always get what I want.” She turned to Tanlin and said, “Not that I gave you much choice, still you have my thanks for coming to the Dragon Sea.  It made coming back much easier.”

Tanlin picked up her cue flawlessly.  In apparent fear she said, “T’ey warned m’ t’at ye were a Dragon-wicken.  Oi didnae believe t’em.” She swallowed hard.  “Oi saw ye die in Sula’s arms.  T’e Fauline told us t’at ye were given t’ Dark Iren t’e next morning.  

“We tried t’ get away across t’e pole.  We’ve been trapped ‘ere in t’e Dragon Sea for weeks.  T’e whales came up an’ ye were aboard.  ‘Ow can we get free?”

Morgu listened to the exchange in rising horror.  He had heard those whales through the hull.  Kurin simply said, “I came to hear something that I already know.  To have a question answered — — by him.” She turned and pointed to the cowering Morgu.  “Whose idea was it to poison me and send me to my foster father?”

“Y, y, your foster father?” quavered Morgu.

“Dark Iren, Blind Mecat’s mate.  Mecat is my foster mother.  You know that.  That makes him my foster father.”  She smiled softly, “Now I have parents that I cannot lose.  I have nothing to fear in Dark Iren’s halls.”

She paused and looked slit-eyed at Morgu.  A grim smile playing about her lips, Kurin added, “Unlike some that I know of.”  

Almost irrelevantly Kurin said, “Sometimes it pays to learn from Dragons,” She reached out casually and chucked the frightened Morgu under his chin.  He flinched, feeling a hot burning sensation where she had touched his neck, and as her hand came into view he could see a red egg cradled in it.

Kurin displayed the egg to him.  In a much harder voice Kurin said, “This holds your life.  You felt me take it.  If I crush it, you will be gone in great pain.  If you crush it, your life is yours once more. Now think carefully, you have only one chance to tell me the truth that I already know.  I just want to hear it from you.  Truth, and your life is your own.  Lie and die — — — in pain.

“Whose was the idea?  Why me?”

Morgu stared in almost hypnotic fascination at the egg in Kurin’s hand. Frantically, he answered, “It was my idea but Captain Barad went along with it!”

Coldly, she wrapped her fingers about the egg.  “Did he?  All the way?  Did he help to kill me?”

Sweating, Morgu answered, “He backed out at the last minute!  Silor and I killed you!”

“Why?” Kurin asked in a tone so cadaverous that Tanlin was startled.

“Both the Captain and I hate the Longin!  You were vulnerable and your death would hurt the whole ship.”  He quailed, “You can ask the Captain!”

Kurin made a casual gesture as if she were pulling something off a shelf that was not visible to the eye and a brownish egg was in her other hand.  She smiled a truly terrible smile.  “I have already spoken with him.”

Tanlin, sensing a cue, broke in almost frantically, “Barad told ye true! Ye promised t’ give ‘is life back!  Please dinnae kill ‘im!  Oi love ‘im!”  She ended groveling at Kurin’s feet.

“Get up, Tanlin,” said Kurin calmly.  “I just want him to know what it is like to lose his life, if only for a short while.  Here, take it back to him.”  She gave the egg to Tanlin who held it as if it were precious.

To Morgu, Kurin said, “You have spoken truly.  Here is your life back. Just shatter it in your hand.  It will burn as much returning as it did coming out.”

As they left the room, they could hear the sound of an eggshell crushing.

Safely in the hallway, with the door shut, Tanlin leaned back against the far wall and had a fit of giggles.  “‘Ow did ye ever come up wit’ t’at?” she asked when she got her breath back.

Kurin took back ‘Barad’s Life’ and said, “I sell toys and tell stories and entertain children.  Sometimes with slight of hand.” The egg vanished, only to reappear in her other hand.  Then it vanished again and was pulled, with every appearance of effort from her ear.

Kimson was still looking at Kurin in something like fear.  He asked, “how did you appear in the room like that?  I didn’t see you come in at all.”

“Red weed flour dust,” Kurin answered.  “I tossed some into the air and set it off with that little candle.  While you were distracted by the flash, I stepped in.”

“Wye’d ‘e act like ‘t ‘urt wen ye pulled ‘is ‘life’ out o’ ‘is neck?” Tanlin asked.

“Because it did,” Kurin explained.  “While I was blowing out and dying these eggs, I rubbed hot sauce base on the outside of the index fingers of my gloves.  Before I closed the holes in the ends of the eggs I put some of the hot sauce base inside each one.”

“So. . .’is ‘life’ ‘urt ‘is ‘and t’e same way ‘goin’ in’ as ‘t did ‘goin’ out’?” Tanlin finished.  “A lovely touch.”

“You are a fast study yourself,” Kurin complimented.  “Your trapped here for weeks line and that bit of terror for Barad’s life made the whole thing live.  You would have been a good actress.”

Seeing Tanlin’s expression of hurt mixed with confusion and anger, Kurin said, “I’m not sure how I’ve offended you but I did not mean to.  Don’t you have entertainments and plays in the Arrakan fleet?”

Confusion clearing up, Tanlin replied, “Certain we do.  T’at’s respectable mummin’.  Mumming’s fun an’ ‘elps t’e small fry t’ learn t’eir ‘istory an’ Dragon legends.  Actors are crew ‘oo lie an’ cheat.”

“Then what I wanted to say was that you’d have made a great mummer.  OK?”

“Now t’at Oi ‘ave yer drift, aye,” Tanlin agreed smile returning. “Are we goin’ t’ play t’e same trick on Silor?”

TO BE CONTINUED

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 51 of 83 : World of Sea

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 51 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Yawning with fatigue, they retreated to their bunks to sleep.  Up in the rigging the paddle-ducks became aware of the Sea Hawks that they were sharing their roosts with and fled in a small thunder of wings.

The Wide Wings, crests up, looked about alertly and then soared off. Shortly they returned, bearing trailing bits of seaweed which they began to tuck into the mainmast’s upper lookout.  They kept it up, arranging things to suit themselves.

Watching from the deck a few hours later, Tanlin stopped a sailor about to go shoo them away.

“Let t’em ‘ave t’e Wide Wing’s nest.  ‘T can be ane in trut’. Willnae ‘urt us t’ ‘arbor anot’er pair o’ refugees.  Our lookoot can climb past t’em an’ use t’e bosun’s chair from t’e mast’ead, as we’ve been doing.”

A short while later, Tanlin herself climbed agilely up to platform and laid a pair of fish where the Wide Wings could reach them.  They hissed at her and spread their wings in a threat display but took the fish.  She came back later with more.

It was not long before the Sea Hawks were settled into their nest on the starboard side of the platform and taking bribes of fish without a thought.  As long as the crewmen stayed on their side of the platform, the Wide Wings would tolerate their presence.  If, that is, the crewmen remembered to bring a fish.

Tanlin spent much of her free time up in the rigging near to the birds.  She even enticed one of them to roost on her arm.  She didn’t flinch when its claws drew blood.  Instead she gave it a small fish.  The next time that she came up, her sleeves were padded and her shoulders as well.

It was while she was up high, working with the birds that she saw something down in the water near the ship.  It was a long gray shape, ghostly in the depths.  It was far longer than the Grandalor.  She carefully put the Sea Hawk back into its nest and called down to deck, “Dragon, Ho!  Off t’e starboard side!”  She slid down a rope to the railing and jumped lightly to the deck.

Chapter 18: Frath

Barad ran forward across the rolling deck to Tanlin.  “Did you cry ‘Dragon’?”

“Aye, Luve.  Tis over t’ere,” she pointed off to starboard,  “nae t’ree fat’oms under.  Bigger t’an t’e ship by far an’ gray, wit’ light an’ dark patches.”

A hundred feet ahead of the Grandalor the water churned and boiled as an enormous head covered with spines and frills lifted from the sea. Large intelligent eyes regarded the ship carefully.

The Wide Wing Sea Hawks launched from their nest and swooped down at it fearlessly.  They screamed a challenge which the Great Sea Dragon calmly ignored.  They even dove and raked at the Dragon with their talons and claws.  At last, defeated by the sheer size of the enemy, they flew back to the Grandalor and landed on Tanlin’s shoulders, facing the Dragon with raised crests and partly spread wings, hissing defiance.

A voice so mild that it seemed impossible to have issued from so fierce a visage said, “Welcome to the center of my storm, Barad, Captain of the Grandalor.  You are well recommended by the fact that two of Dari’s favorite creatures defend you so.”  

The Great Sea Dragon’s head tilted a bit to look more clearly at Tanlin.  “Welcome to you also — Tanlin.  I see that there is more to you than meets even the inner eye.  You have, along with all aboard this ship made a choice that you must live with.”

Tanlin was standing legs braced, hands on hips, a Sea Hawk on each shoulder, the wind streaming her hair back.  “I’ ye donnae mind m’ asking so mighty a bein’ as yersel’ a personal quest’n, just ‘oo are ye?   Oi know o’ Blind Mecat an’ Dark Iren, o’ course.  Are ye Frath, t’e Dragon o’ Storms?”

The huge Dragon seemed surprised by the question.  “Of course.  I go with the storm to steer it and make certain that it will meet all of its ecological goals.”

“Ecological goals?” Tanlin said in outrage.  “T’is monstrosity,” she gestured all about at the racing, tumbling, gray and black cloud walls, rimmed white at the tops by late sun and lit internally by flashes of lightning, “came barreling t’rough a fleet! ’Oo knows ‘ow many ships ‘t ‘as sunk, ‘ow many lives lost?”

“I do,” said Frath with some asperity.  “No ships were sunk.  Twelve humans lost their lives, of which three were unrelated to the storm.”

“Oi’m sorry,” Tanlin apologized.  “Oi’ve a temper wen ‘t comes t’ t’ose Oi care about.”

“I understand perfectly.  Nor are you alone in that sentiment.”  Frath looked over to port, where the water was cascading from another Great Sea Dragon’s head.  This one was pure white and clearly blind, though equally obviously, it had no difficulty finding its way about.

Barad looked on, just a little awestruck.  Nevertheless, he offered courtesy.  “Blind Mecat, wisest of Dragons, I am glad to see you.”

“A few Gatherings ago, Barad, I would not have believed you, if you had said that.  I know that you actually mean it, now.  Do you know why I am here?”

“I suspect that you have been keeping track of what has happened to Kurin.  I will not try to defend the fact that I was in on the start of the plot against her.  I met Lady Tanlin afterwards, and she changed me — and my mind.  I tried to stop what happened.  I failed.  I am sorry that Kurin was hurt and that the Grython sailor died.”

“I have never liked you, Barad.  You know that.  In spite of my dislike, I try to base my actions on reality, not my feelings,” said Mecat, looking just past him with her blind eyes in the disturbing way that he remembered from past meetings, when she had appeared as a human. “I have a question for you.  How do you feel about the Lady Tanlin?”

“I love her,” said Barad simply, surprised at the inquiry.  “I married her by Arrakan law and it was not for show.”

The huge white head tilted in curiosity, “Why did you choose Arrakan law?  Was it part of fooling the Naral fleet about her origins and your violation of the Marriage Laws?”

Barad put an arm around Tanlin and replied firmly, “I know that you could read it so and many would.  The actual reason is in the Third Great Law.  Arrakan law allows marriage between any two who have no parents that share a ship name.  Our parents are of different ships and fleets.  When the Naral fleet agreed to our marriage by Arrakan law, it became completely legal.  She is my wife until one of us dies.”

“Let me smell you, Barad,” demanded Blind Mecat.  Her enormous head thrust forward through a gap in the rigging to where Barad stood.  A seemingly endless breath was drawn in as she nuzzled him from head to foot, the tentacles about her mouth pulled back.  “There is truth here; the last thing that I expected from you.”

The massive head turned to Tanlin.  “Some say that I know all things but they are wrong.  This I do know.  You are a person torn.  The role that you live is not the life of your birth.  You must chose, your birth or your role.  With either choice there will be loss.”

Tanlin wept.  “Oi already know t’at, Mecat, an’ Oi ‘ave chosen. ‘Owever t’e world falls, wit’ t’is mon, m’ Ca’tain an’ m’ Luve, is w’ere Oi belong.”  She looked the dragon in the eye and drew a breath to steady herself.  “T’e Orcas sang for Kurti. She’s gone.”  The Sea Hawks on her shoulders sensed Tanlin’s distress and stroked their beaks along her jaw and set to preening the hair about her ears.

Even though blind, Mecat appeared to look on in interest before saying, “I had heard from the Orcas that Kurti changed lives / died / and was celebrated.  It was confusing.  Now I understand that report.

“So be it.  You have a Dragon’s Gift.”  The breath of the Great Dragon was let out as mist over Tanlin and the two Wide Wings on her shoulders.  Tanlin felt a sort of peace settle over her.  Kurti and all of her life melted peacefully away until she was entirely gone. All that remained was a glimpse of a dying woman who sang a lullaby to calm a frightened cousin awakening from a long coma.  Tanlin was a single, whole person, at peace with herself.

The Sea Hawks preened her hair serenely and nibbled gently at her ears with beaks that could easily have sheared her ears from her head. Tanlin reached up and ruffled their feathers with utter confidence. She turned to the huge, fang filled muzzle and said, “Oi know t’at ye did somet’in’ for m’ but Oi’m nae sure w’at.  T’ese guys know ‘t, t’.”  She stroked the feathers of two of the fiercest predators of the air.  “Oi’ve decided t’at tis nae important t’ try t’ remember m’ past.  Oi’m ‘ere in t’e present.  Wa’ t’at yer gift?”

Somewhat sadly, Mecat said, “It is.  You are a single person now.”

“T’ats an odd t’ing t’ say,” Tanlin said, tilting her head in curiosity.  “‘Ow could anyane be more t’an ane person?

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Mecat replied.

Seeking to bring the conversation back to the Grandalor’s plight, Tanlin said, “Ye know, everane on t’is ship’s ‘ere because t’ey chose t’ follow Ca’tain Barad.”

“I do know.  They would not all have followed him alone, and you know that, too.  It was you as well,” the Great Dragon said crisply. “It is unfortunate that Captain Barad chose to flee justice.  A human crime was done and fleet justice must be served.”

“Naral fleet Justice?” said Tanlin in scorn.  “T’ey ‘ave convicted us wit’oot allowing us t’e right o’ rebuttal!  T’at’s against t’e Law o’ ever’ fleet t’at Oi know o’!  T’e Secund Groit Law requires ‘t!  T’ey’re nae better t’an t’e Ca’tain o’ Ca’tains!  T’at’s wye we fled.  We knew t’at wa’ ‘ow t’ey’d deal wit’ us.  T’ey ‘ad a chance t’ rid t’ t’emsel’ o’ t’e Grandalor an’ t’ey took ‘t wit’oot a second’s t’ought.”

“That is why, Little Bite,” said Mecat firmly, “that you cannot be allowed to flee over the pole.  The Dragon Sea is closed to your flight.  The fleets to the sides of you know of your conviction.

“The Naral fleet is my fleet, too.  They have to have the chance to fix their injustice.  If you succeed in fleeing, it will perpetuate the wrong and make an evil precedent.  The Captain of Captains did rise to power on the strength of one such evil.  It could happen again — to folk that I care about.  You must deal with the Naral fleet’s law.”

Barad slumped, “Then it’s over.  When the storm blows itself out, we surrender.  They will drown me and her,” he gestured at Tanlin, “and all of the other officers before they get around to trying the crew.  Then, perhaps, they will find their error.  I doubt that much sleep will be lost over it.  They don’t like me or my ship much.  I don’t blame them.”

Tanlin gave Mecat a calculating look.  “Perhaps nae, Luve o’ Mine. T’ere’s some quest’ns yet t’ be asked.  Mecat, ye said t’at t’e Dragon Sea wa’ closed t’ our flight an’ t’e reason wa’ t’e Naral fleet’s violation o’ t’e Second Groit Law.  Fair enow.

“W’at o’ refuge, w’ile tis sorted oot?  T’e Dragon Sea belongs t’ nae fleet an’ wad be t’e perfect neutral woter for us, so long as we are actively seeking t’ get justice.  Will ye allow us t’at bit o’ safety?”

TO BE CONTINUED

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