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chaseatinydream · 4 years

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pirate king (70) || atz

As if fate had meant to play a cruel trick on you, the white ship docks just three ships away from the Treasure.

You stand at the starboard of the ship, watching the crew of the ship throw out the messenger lines and drop the anchor, fingers fisting so tight around the hull that your knuckles bleed white. It’s just a ship, you tell yourself in your mind as you watch the docking process, perhaps with a different crew and a different captain since so many years ago. The seas are treacherous after all.

But something dark swirls in you like a black, seething water. Wooyoung has always acted strong, been a warm comfort for you in times of darkness. You’ve known that Wooyoung had been sold as a pleasure object as a child, having heard it from Jongho and the man himself, but seeing him like this, knowing the real darkness behind his abuse, it makes you want to destroy.

Bite marks, San had told you. Bruises, scratch marks... as if taking him against his will hadn’t been enough? What on earth had they done to him?

You glance back towards the sickbay, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth contemplatively. The desire to see Wooyoung is still a painful ache in your chest, but you push it down; you don’t know whether it will affect him adversely. With a heavy exhale, you turn around and step towards the kitchens. Perhaps cooking with Seonghwa will be able to distract you a little from everything going on right now.

By a stroke of luck, you manage to catch both Yeosang and Yunho chatting in the galley of the ship with cups of tea, Seonghwa working on some dried meat at the counter. They greet you when you come in, and you seat yourself next to them, placing your head on your arms.

“You doing okay?” Yunho asks and Yeosang pats your head tentatively as you let out a little groan and reach out a hand. The navigator immediately intertwines his fingers with yours, a sympathetic look on his face. “Not great, huh?”

“We’ve been hit by nothing but waves of bad luck since I joined this ship.” You mumble into your arms, but before you can say anymore Seonghwa sticks a piece of bread into your mouth, a faint smile on his face.

“I won’t allow you to say things like that in my kitchen.” He scolds gently and you sigh, bury your face deeper into the arms. “You know none of this was your fault.”

“It might not be, but it feels like it is.” You say haplessly, and Yunho’s face falls. He tries to brighten up the mood, however, reassuring you the best he can. “Don’t worry too much about it. Mingi went to talk with the harbor officials earlier to see how soon we can leave the town, and San and Captain are with Woo.”

“I know, but I want to see him too.” You sigh. Yeosang and Yunho exchange quick looks. “I don’t think that’s the best idea for now, Chin Hae.” Yeosang advises you, thumb running over the back of your hand and you swallow, eyes downcast. He was there for your own quarrel with Yeosang, and yet you can’t be there for him now. You hate this feeling of helplessness, being unable to do anything.

“Don’t feel too bad,” Seonghwa says, sitting next to you. “Wooyoung’s a strong boy, has always been. He’ll get through this.”

You don’t know what to say, fingers tracing the grain of the wooden table. Luckily for you, you don’t have much time to wallow in those terrible feelings because the door to the galley swings open, and you look up to see San at the doorway, mouth twisted into a small frown.

His eyes dart around the galley, searching for something, until they finally land on you. “Ahh, Chin Hae, I was looking for you. Come with me for a second?” There’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel uneasy, but you’re grateful to have a distraction.

Cocking your head to the side in curiosity, you rise to your feet, looking at your master. “What’s the matter?” You ask, and San gives you what you guess is supposed to be a reassuring smile, but you can see the nervousness in his eyes.

“It’s Wooyoung.” He says, and your heart lurches in your chest at the sound of his name “And he says he wants to go out with you.”

>>>

You’re confused.

Wooyoung wants to go into town, more specifically, go into town with you. At least, that was what San had told you as he led you out of the galley, and you turn to look at him quizzically.

“He wants to... bring me into town.” You repeat hesitantly, fingers drumming on your thigh. “... you sure he said that?”

“As sure as our captain is the pirate king.” San replies seriously, though you can see the lack of surety in his eyes. “Wooyoung told us he wanted to go into town, and when Hongjoong-hyung asked why, he didn’t say so.”

You make a face, staring right back him. “Isn’t it a bad idea for him to see me right now? I mean... considering that he’s...” You trail off. San puts both hands on your shoulders, squeezes you lightly.

“Hey.” When he speaks, his voice is low and serious. You look up at him, a lump forming in your throat. “I promise that none of this is your fault. Everything that happened and everything that happens, I’m glad that you came to be with us.”

A tiny, slightly rueful smile forms at the corner of your mouth. “You heard us talking earlier, didn’t you?”

San doesn’t reply, instead leaning down to drop a kiss to the top of your head. “You’ll be fine. We’ll all do our best to help Wooyoung, but don’t forget you too, are equally as important. Okay?”

You give a small nod. “Thanks, Master.” And not a second too late, because when you turn back to look at him, Wooyoung and Hongjoong are emerging from the sickbay, arguing over something that you can’t quite hear properly.

“You don’t need to come with us, I’ll be fine.” Wooyoung insists snappishly, as he pulls on the sleeves of his shirt, shackles jingling. Your captain sighs, exasperated, looking like he’s about to lose his temper. “Wooyoung, you can’t go into town alone with Chin Hae. It’s not safe, especially since you...”

Hongjoong trails off, staring at Wooyoung with conflicted expression, and Wooyoung bites down hard on his lower lip, eyes hardening.

“Especially what.” Wooyoung turns around to stare down at his captain, and next to you San swallows, fingers brushing your prosthetic nervously. You know San’s thinking about the last time Wooyoung beat Hongjoong up when he’d found out about your lost hand. Desperate to defuse the situation, you step forward and tug on Wooyoung’s arm gently to get his attention. To your surprise, he flinches and jerks his arm away.

You force a smile, arm dropping back to your side. “You wanted to head into town?”

“Chin Hae.” The smile barely touches the corners of his mouth. His eyes won’t quite meet yours. “I want to bring you around for a bit, but captain here,” he jerks his thumb behind him and Hongjoong’s pained eyes meet yours, “won’t let me go alone. He says he wants to come.”

“I think that’s fine.” You smile hopefully, and Hongjoong nods tightly. Wooyoung’s brows knit together, but then he sighs, turns away. “Whatever.” He mutters, moving towards the gangplank and Hongjoong lets out a sigh of relief behind him, thankful gaze meeting yours.

Good luck, San mouths at you and you and Hongjoong both chase after Wooyoung, settling into step beside him while Hongjoong stays a little behind, afraid of earning Wooyoung’s ire.

“So why did you want to take me out?” You ask Wooyoung, trying to lighten the mood as he leads you through the small shop houses that line the streets of Tortuga. But Wooyoung doesn’t seem to be in the mood for conversation, instead shaking his head.

“I just... I just wanted you to be there when I brought you somewhere.” He says quietly, eyes glancing back at the harbor, where the white ship still looms, you realise. Maybe Wooyoung hasn’t fled from his demons as well as he thought he has, and your eyes drift to the shackles still around his wrists. The chains are broken, but he still wears them.

Why?

The walk is relatively silent, with nothing but the sound of your footsteps and the chattering of townsfolk around you. Sensing that Wooyoung wants to be left alone for now, you fall behind a little, speaking quietly to your captain.

“So... Tortuga is a pirate town, am I right?” You ask, and Hongjoong gives you a small smile, nodding. You can see the unease in his eyes, but explains to you the history behind Tortuga in his usual calm, collected voice.

“Tortuga is a safe haven for pirates.” Hongjoong says quietly. “Where even the Royal Navy can’t reach because of how powerful it is. Its location is a closely guarded secret, only passed on from mouth to mouth. Did you see the small island on the way in?”

“No,” you reply honestly. You had been under the deck stitching together the fox fur, although you can’t tell him that.

“There is a small rocky outcrop, just a little way off the harbor.” He tells you, and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “And on it there are cannons, prepared to blast any ship that is of the Royal Navy. Ships that do get to dock here pay an expensive toll to do so.”

“Is that why we can’t leave this place right away?” You murmur softly, and Hongjoong nods grimly. “You’re not allowed to leave before your docking period is up to prevent suspicious characters from leaving the town without taking responsibility. Fights aren’t allowed between crews of different ships either to ensure peace and stability within the town, and it’s punishable by death, so-”

“We could make it looks like an accident.” You mutter as Wooyoung takes the two of you down another alley, and out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of the inn that the crew had brought you to after you had gotten your name.

Your heart warms at the sight, remember the happiness and memories that you had made that day. How much has changed since then, too? You look down at your lost hand. You’ve lost so much, but you’ve gained so much too. Wooyoung and Hongjoong and the rest of the crew have become your family.

Your treasure.

“We’re here.” Wooyoung says softly and you startle, nearly bumping into his back when you realise he’s stopped too late. Looking up at what Wooyoung is gazing at, your breath catches in your throat as you read the words inscribed on the marble building.

House of Pleasure.

Your blood runs cold when you look up at it, and Hongjoong lets out a little exhale next to you. “I’ll... give the two of you some privacy.”

You don’t really hear the chatter as the townspeople go about their business, or your captain’s footsteps as he moves away from the two of you. Instead your eyes remain firmly fixed on Wooyoung’s back as he stares up at the marble building before him. You can see how tense he is, and you swallow, wondering if he’s relieving his past, meeting his demons all over again.

“Why did you want to come here, Wooyoung?” You ask softly, suddenly afraid to shake him out of his reverie. The purple haired gunner doesn’t reply for a moment, completely silent and eyes fixed upon the building before him.

“This place... was both my prison... and what I thought was my liberation.” His voice is barely a whisper above the wind, hoarse with a single emotion; burning hatred. “When I was just a kid... barely understanding of anything... I thought that being hit... that being beaten... it was okay. I grew up that way since I could remember and thought that it was normal... to be treated like that.”

His voice shakes. It takes you a few seconds to realise that he’s trembling like a leaf in the wind.

No, you want to say, so desperately, no, you deserved all the love in the world, all the care, all the warmth, but the words seem trapped in your throat. You can’t say a thing.

“It was one day, I remember...” You can hear the way his throat tightens, look down in surprise to see your own fingers fisted around the hem of your shirt so tight you can’t feel them anymore. “I remember He brought me down from the ship, telling me that we were going to have some fun... that if I were a good boy-” his words cut off into a choked hiccup, “that he wouldn’t beat me anymore, that I would be rewarded.”

You know what’s coming next. You’ve heard it before, not once but three times, and yet when it spills from his mouth like this, the words tear your heart out of your chest.

“I don’t remember what exactly happened.” Wooyoung exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “All I remember was Him putting this collar around my neck,” he tugs at the thick leather strap around his neck roughly, “guiding me through the town... how big the doors seemed back then... and then...”

And then? You want to prompt, but no words leave you. Instead you stare at Wooyoung’s back, think of the young child he must have been back then. How scared must he have been? Alone, unloved, fed to the dogs like a raw piece of meat... how could anyone have done that to him?

“And then... all I remember was... a hazy mix of fear... like I was suffocating. I was drowning, and I couldn’t escape. I was only a child-” A pained, shuddering breath escapes him. “- and I wanted to die. And at the end of it all, I felt like I lost something... it wasn’t anything physical, but it was gone.”

You can’t seem to breathe.

“It happened again, and again... and again...” He shakes his head, as if trying to orient himself after waking up from a nightmare. “After Captain broke the chains on my shackles, I came back on my own. I wanted to prove that I was no longer that scared, terrified boy from back then.”

Wooyoung turns around to meet your gaze, and your heart breaks when you see the emptiness in his eyes. There are no tears, no sadness, no emotion. Just bottomless depths that lead to nowhere, that you could fall deeper and deeper into and be swallowed whole.

“The first time felt like taking revenge. The second time felt numbing, like alcohol.” You’re shaking with each word. “The third time... felt like running away. I kept coming back, wanting to tell myself, no, I’m not scared, and yet the entire time I was simply a coward, distancing myself from the people who had hurt me, afraid to confront them.”

He takes a deep breath, raises his hands. His face is drawn, white as a sheet , but he lays them on your prosthetic, and you can feel how much they’re trembling. “But then... I met you. You didn’t give me time to build up my defenses, and by the time I realised you were a woman, you were already in here. Then you nearly died after saving Yeosang, and I thought... so what if she’s a woman? What if I lose her?”

“Wooyoung-” Your voice comes out as a barely audible croak, but Wooyoung shakes his head, forcing the tears back. “I know you don’t love me back, but please, just stay by my side always, please, even if it’s as friends. I’m still a coward, but you make me want to be strong.” His voice is begging. “You’re my first step.”

“This is very touching,” A dry laugh comes from behind you and Wooyoung immediately turns to stone under your hands, pupils wavering. You turn around to see a middle aged man standing there, dressed in a black coat that shines under the midday sun, a matching top hat, and a polite smile. His slate grey eyes are colder than the northern seas in the winter nights. “It does my heart good to see you after so long... pet.”

“Y-you... you c-can’t... you can’t be h-here.” Wooyoung’s voice is weak with fear, lodged in the back of his throat. His words sound more like a whine that only a wounded animal would make.

What is happening?

For a moment you wonder who he’s talking to, but then you hear a weak whimper coming from behind you. That single sound is enough to grip at your heart, so painfully helpless that you can’t help but need to protect.

Then it hits you.

Wooyoung made that sound.

The man smiles. “Is that any way to greet your master, pet?”

You whip around in time to see Wooyoung dropping to his knees, eyes still focused solely on the man before him, as if he can’t see anything else. He’s shaking, so badly you can hear his shackles jangling. You call his name, but he can’t seem to hear you at all.

Master?

Wooyoung trembles, grovels and your heart drops. His forehead presses against the dirty ground, hands over his head and neck, body curled up as tight as possible, as if he’s...

... as if he’s trying to protect himself from a blow.

The man takes a step forward, footsteps soft against the cobbles and instantly, Wooyoung whimpers, body tensed, a soft stream of words falling from his mouth completely unchecked.

You can barely hear them.

“I’ve been a good boy, please, no punish me.” He sobs quietly into his hands and each word echoes in your ears. You feel strange, like you’re submerged underwater, viewing the world through the ripples of the waves above you. “I did what they asked, I followed, I was... I good, I promise...”

Your eyes fall on the shackles around Wooyoung’s trembling arms, the heavy silver locks that hold them around his wrists. Then you look at the man standing before you once more, and see the glint of silver hanging from a chain around his neck.

The key.

You can’t breathe.

It’s Him.

Before you know it, you’re lunging at him. Your chest feels empty, your head light, but your heart burns, so painfully that you need him to feel the same. You need to rip him into tiny pieces, the way the storm waves rip into the shore, to destroy him, to eradicate him from the surface of the earth.

One corner of his mouth turns up in a smile.

“Chin Hae, stop!” Your captain’s voice barely sounds in your ears, but then a pair of strong arms are wrapped around yours, dragging you away just before you can connect your fist with him. You thrash in his grip, snarling, but Hongjoong’s warning stops you cold. “Remember, breaking the peace here is a serious offence punishable by death.”

“But... but he-” You seethe, arms still straining against him, and Hongjoong grabs you by the cheeks to stare at him, one green eye filled with desperation.

“I know. But we can’t prove anything, and he’s not carrying a weapon.” He shakes you so hard you nearly see stars. “Wooyoung, he needs you, alright? And you can’t do that if you’re in a jail cell, waiting to be hanged.”

“What a remarkable captain.” The man says, and you look up, vision still tinted red, to see him clapping slowly as he steps towards you. Instantly, Hongjoong places himself between him and Wooyoung, his one eye burning with venom. “I’ll introduce myself; I was the quartermaster of the Phantom when you first... visited. I apologise that you had to meet the spineless coward that was our previous captain, I’ve killed him.” He says casually, as if he hasn’t just taken another human’s life in cold blood. “I’d like to-”

“Leave.” Hongjoong says, deathly quiet and a chill runs down your spine. His words aren’t even directed at you, but you can feel the sheer bloodlust radiating off him, making your blood run cold. “Get out of my sight before I chase you to the four corners of this earth, sink your cursed ship and drown you alive.”

“Your intimidation is delightful.” The quartermaster croons, and you instantly tremble. “The fire that burns in you... how destructive it is. How beautiful are the flames that will consume you along with everything you hold dear, Pirate King, Kim Hongjoong. Compared to that cold hearth that simply lies there and grovels,” he casts a pitying look at Wooyoung, and Hongjoong has to grab your arm once again to stop you from committing murder in broad daylight, although you swear you hear the bones in his jaw creak. “You are a fine pyre to build a sacrifice upon. The gods chose well, and he will most definitely be pleased.”

“Leave.” Hongjoong’s voice is barely a low snarl now. “I will not repeat my warning again.”

The man merely chuckles, before stepping past you, striding down the street. “See you soon, my dear pet.”

This time, you’re the one throwing your arms around your captain’s waist to stop him.

Wooyoung makes a whimper, and turns around on his hands and knees... before he begins to crawl after the man. You rush to him, horrified, but Wooyoung shakes his head jerkily, eyes lost to the world around him. “Can’t... make master mad... must obey... must... follow... or else... beating... It must be... good pet... follow... master...”

It... it?

“No, no, no,” you gasp, eyes immediately flooding with tears. “Wooyoung, no. You’re not an it, you’re Jung Wooyoung. You have a name. Hongjoong gave it to you, please, Wooyoung-”

He shakes his head, nudging past you to continue after the man even when you tug helplessly at him to hold him back. “He... mad!” A choked whimper escapes him. “Mad... mad is... angry... angry is... beating... beating... hurts. Don’t... want more... hurt...”

You’re about to break down in sobs, but then a hand comes out of nowhere, striking the side of Wooyoung’s neck. Immediately he goes limp, slumping to the ground and you race to catch him, cradling his head in your hands before it can hit the stones.

Your eyes meet Hongjoong’s.

“Let’s... let’s go back to the ship.” Hongjoong manage and all you can do, is to nod.

>>>

Wooyoung doesn’t wake.

The entire way back to the Treasure he sleeps, even as San and Yeosang break down at the sight of their best friend, even as Jongho breaks a wooden spear in half in sheer fury. He does not wake even as Seonghwa comforts Yunho, even as Mingi returns to find the ship deadly silent, even as your captain puts him down on your bed in the infirmary, even as the sun sets and the sky turns black as the sea beneath it.

You’re not sure which is better as you sit by his bedside, fingers carding through his hair gently as he sleeps. Even when lost in dreams his demons find him again, plague him with nightmares. He shifts, murmurs, restless, and you wish that he would wake up and stop making those heart wrenching noises, but aren’t sure which world is more terrifying for him.

San sleeps with Yeosang in the captain’s cabin tonight, unable to rest with the sounds of his friend’s soft whimpers in his sleep. You had offered to watch over him, knowing that you would be unable to sleep a wink tonight. Instead, you comb your fingers through his soft locks to calm him in his fitful rest, heart shattering with every pained noise he makes.

“He was wrong.” You murmur to him, voice trembling. “He said you have no fire but... Even when the darkness tries to smother you, you still burn so bright, Wooyoung.”

He doesn’t respond.

You were utterly helpless today.

You couldn’t do anything for him.

Wooyoung trembles, rolls over in his sleep to clutch at your hand, his shackles knocking together. The sound they produce ring in your ears, and his mouth moves near soundlessly. “Wooyoung?”

“Need... need...”

“What do you need, Woo?” You murmur, leaning closer. He whimpers, eyes squeezed tight, scratches at his wrists. “Free... need...”

You strain your ears to hear them more clearly. “Need?”

“Need... key.” You don’t process his words for a second. “Heavy... need... key... I need the key... need the key... to be free...”

The key.

Your eyes drop to the heavy locks around the broken shackles he’s wearing.

Right.

You gently pry his fingers off your wrist and get to your feet, striding to the table. Pushing a jar of dried herbs to the side, you grab your cutlass from the tabletop and tie it to your waist silently, eyes dark.

There’s no fear.

There’s only one thing for you to do.

This is the least you could do before you go.

Stepping back to Wooyoung’s bedside, you watch him sleep. One hand reaches down to pull the silver hairpin he had gifted you so long ago, and you wind it into your hair with firm hands.

“I’ll get it.” You say quietly as you leave the sickbay, a vow deep in your heart. “I promise, I’ll get the key, Wooyoung.”

You step off the gangplank, gaze focused only on the white ship sitting upon the waves.

Another promise to keep.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

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gracekelsen · 3 years

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songsandsorcery · 4 years

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What's the story behind Fiz and the polite-looking little fellow with the glasses? (sorry for dropping in out of the blue, I hope that's okay, it's just... they seem cute... I enjoy seeing the green bard boy pop up on my dash and want good things for him)

Uh oh. You’ve done it now. You’ve unlocked ... THE BACKSTORY. Exposition ahead!

A true story of opposites attract, Fizridge and Siggy entertain an unlikely romance that's no less genuine in its warmth despite the sheer incongruity of their personalities.

Fresh off the heels of love lost, Fizridge met Siggy much by chance while wandering the Mage Quarter during the month of Love is in the Air. The bard had found himself entrenched in a particularly volatile conversation with a mechagnome noble, arguing against the incensed politics regarding mechanical upgrades and the loss of bodily autonomy prevalent under King Mechagon's regime.

Siggy Mindticker, a neurologist and author currently pioneering a study on body dysphoria in mechagnomes, couldn't help but overhear the conversation and step in as a mediator. He insisted that differences would be best discussed over a drink and good company, leading the trio to retire to The Blue Recluse for a night of revelry ... and significantly less political discourse.

With tongues loosened over the comfort of a good drink, Siggy quickly discovered the source of Fizridge's cantankerous behavior. Love is in the Air had put him in a foul mood, compounded with a general feeling of being slighted by an old flame that'd pulled out of port only to never return. Sig took note of this and excused himself from the Recluse, returning within a few minutes with ... a rose?

Fizridge had admittedly pegged Siggy for little more than a nosy bookworm looking to play hero, possessing somewhat of a bias against Gnomeregan natives due to his frequent inability to get along with them. ( Condescension and haughty attitudes chief among the reasons why. ) For the plucky doctor to fly in the face of his assumption was definitely a deciding factor for him to pursue Siggy romantically, especially when Fizridge was so used to being the one that initiated flirting. The role-reversal was new ... and exciting. The nerdy little dude was maybe the tiniest bit handsome too, okay?

The two struck up an easy camaraderie, ending that night above the Stormwind Harbor overlook as they gazed at the stars. Sig proved to be a calming presence, working past those walls with little effort and encouraging conversation before the night came to a close. Fizridge extended the invitation to see each other again, discovering that the man was a Stormwind local and setting one of his many worries at ease; his last partner had been an adventurer that frequently left him on standby. Siggy offered stability. Uh oh.

In the course of a night Fizridge definitely started pining after this dude, but in a way entirely foreign to him. Gone was the smarm and wheedling flirts, no foot shoved in a potential opening as the bard did nothing to push their time past bedroom doors. At the end of the night, Fiz and Sig went their separate ways with little more than a promise to see each other again. Why did that make him feel weird?

Fizridge and Sig next met up at the Stormwind Market, allowing the doctor a chance to see Darkmoon’s Finest in action as he was treated to a game of Drunken Dragon. Following the market Sig was invited to play a round of Lucky Sevens amongst the carnival troupe ... with the ever-so-high stakes of Truth or Dare! Sig walked away with a cool three wins, leading the Finest to accuse Fizridge of loading his dice ... something he eagerly refuted by propositioning Siggy regardless of his win: Truth or Dare?

Fizridge limped away from the entanglement with more than a bruised ego, his mind swirling with a fair amount of confusion and anger. Why did something as simple as a stupid prank upset him so much? Why did Sig’s forwardness catch him so off-guard? ... Why did he want his first kiss with him to be different? He didn’t have a problem making out with strangers before. Taking things slow isn’t Fizridge’s style, so what gives?

Sig later apologized through a letter and the two agreed to meet up again. They reconciled over some tea and, hey, even made up for that kiss. A peck and nothing more. So not his style, but he’s found that he likes this guy. Likes him enough to, uh, maybe ease up the flirting with strangers just a bit. Oh no.

In the weeks that followed the two men found that they enjoyed one another’s company past tea and idle chit-chat. Siggy offered Fizridge a space to let his walls down and be vulnerable. Fizridge encouraged Siggy to get out of his shell and start pursuing his passions again. The bard found he adored the man’s stupid jokes, or the way his eyes lit up when he enthused him about the inner workings of the Gnomish brain ... everything so ridiculously, properly gnomish seemed to, against all odds, be a draw. Which made it all the more exciting when the doctor subverted his expectations and brought a more devious side out to play in private.

Siggy had Fizridge pinned as polyamorous from day one and broached the topic eloquently, initiating an admittedly painful conversation wherein Fizridge agreed to give monogamy a shot, just for him. The flirting would remain a staple of his show persona, but once the spotlights dimmed and the curtains fell, he’d go home to Siggy. No one else.

This ... admittedly brought with it some difficulties. Do remember the heartbreak that Fizridge had been nursing his heart over when he and Sig initially met. Vaskel, a Blackwater Raider who Fizridge had an on-and-off relationship with, reared his head when the bard was already well into his relationship with Sig. Facing an impending relocation to Kalimdor, the pirate returned to bid farewell one last time ... and proposition Fizridge to run away with him.

He said no.

Despite still loving Vaskel deeply and sorely wishing things had ended up different, Fizridge knew it was extremely unfair to Sig to even consider the idea. For him to turn him down spoke volumes about the depth of his loyalty in regards to Siggy, particularly because of Fizridge’s still-present feelings for Vaskel.

Their relationship has followed a pattern of push and pull, a never-ending game of discovering one another’s weaknesses and accounting for them. Fizridge finds it difficult to slow down, but finds Siggy’s companionship worth the effort. There’s still that omnipresent fear: what if he moves too fast? Comes on too strongly? What if he messes things up? He always does, after all. That’s why Posy left. That’s why things with Ziti never worked out. That’s why Sparksie won’t talk to him. How can the hands of a thief ever hold him like he deserves?

Part of him wonders if those fears will ever abate, but for now, Sig is there to help him every step of the way, and Fizridge thinks himself the luckiest gnome in the world for it.

Presently Fizridge and Siggy are in a committed monogamous relationship, though most of the carnival circuit isn't aware of such. Fizridge has proven to be rather secretive of the whole affair, though not purposefully so. A womanizing stage persona acts as quite the red-herring. Who could be the mysterious mainland paramour that’s snared the heart of none other than the Darkmoon Devil himself?

The fact of the matter is: Siggy is probably the closest thing Fizridge has ever had to a good, stable partner he has a real future with. He's fiercely protective of this part of his life and, as it stands? He's more than satisfied with their private affairs to feel like the whole world needs to know. ( He'll still eagerly regale you with anecdotes should you ask politely, and never fails to bring Sig up when speaking of things that remind him of the doctor. )

#wyrmrest accord #moon guard #VERY LONG POST #asks #bookshelfpassageway #i'm jus real passionate about them ..#tysm for the interest this ask made me smile ear to ear :)#fizridge flimflam #siggy mindticker #sigridge

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

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Survey #284

“mama, we’re all full of lies / mama, we’re meant for the flies”

When was the last time you changed a lightbulb? About a month or so back I had to change Venus’ heat lamp. Who was the last person you sent an e-mail to? I emailed my older sister the OneDrive link to her holiday pictures I did. When was the last time you visited the dentist? What about the optician? It’s been quite a few months since I went to the dentist for a normal cleaning. I haven’t seen an eye doctor in around a year or so because it’s a less pressing matter, and we can’t afford to buy me new glasses anyway. I desperately need them. Do you sleep on your side, your back or your front? My side, stomach, or like a contortion of both. Would you rather drive or be the passenger? Let me be shotgun controlling the music and I’m set for a long ride. When was the last time you received a handwritten letter? Sara sent me one I think two years ago for my birthday. If you have pets, do you buy them gifts for Christmas or their birthdays? Ha, yes. We don’t know either’s exact birthday though, so we don’t really “celebrate” those. Do you know how to ride a bike? How about ride a skateboard? A bike, yeah. I don’t know how to skateboard, though. Did you get enough sleep last night? How much sleep is enough sleep for you? No. I don’t even know what “enough sleep” is. I’m always tired. What are your favourite condiments? Do you use those often? Ketchup and honey mustard probably top the list, considering they’re the ones I use most. Peanut butter: crunchy or smooth? Do you have a favorite brand? I trust no one who can enjoy crunchy peanut butter. I like Skippy quite a bit. Do you have any life-threatening allergies? No. Have you had to take a COVID test yet? Was it positive or negative? I haven’t needed to take one. Do you think it’s okay to keep cats indoors for their entire lives? They SHOULD be. Cats are very destructive and disruptive predators of once-stable environments. They fuck up the food chain and have done a lot of damage to native populations. This is coming from a person whose house was an absolute NEST for cats to the point they were taken away. They lived outside, and I can only imagine the harm they really caused. Of course, as a kid, I didn’t understand this, but as an educated and experienced adult when it comes to this subject, it’s saddening to look back on. Please, keep your cats inside. AND FIXED. Hence our cat empire lmao. Do you think people should need a license in order to keep animals, just to make sure they knew how to properly take care of them? That would actually be LOVELY. If only. Not that it would entirely prevent illegal ownership, but I like to think most people are law-abiding citizens… Which meal of the day is your favorite? What’s your favorite thing to eat for that meal? BREAKFAST! Cinnamon rolls just gotta top the list. When was the last time you bounced on a trampoline? Would you ever want to go to one of those indoor trampoline parks? It has to have been so, so many years. My knees could NEVER take that now. I’m not interested in that. What’s your favorite thing to put on a baked potato? Butter, American cheese, and bacon bits… yum. Have you ever made money selling stuff online? What was it you were selling? I don’t think so, at least not successfully. Do you have a valid passport? When was the last time you used it? No. What was the last song you sung along to? I’m unsure. I rarely sing along to songs. What was the last piece of fruit you ate? What about the last vegetable? Fruit: apple. Vegetable: ummm I’m actually unsure. Probably broccoli. Have you ever lied to the police or a customs official? Were you ever found out? No. Are you much of a procrastinator, or would you rather get things out of the way so you can relax? I am a HEAVY procrastinator. When was the last time you took an exam of any kind? I don’t know. Probably not since I was in school. What snacks/drinks from your childhood do you wish they still made? Ah man, I know there’s some… just too many to dig through to try and remember. Are you a fan of techno? Yeah, sometimes. Who's your favorite horror movie villain/monster? I don’t particularly like one over the other. What's an 'obsession' of yours that most people would find odd or amusing? Probably how much I love Mark, given that being a “fangirl” is usually seen as juvenile. What's the sweetest thing another person has said or done for you? Probably Colleen letting me live with her while I was homeless for a month or two. Said to me, actually from Colleen’s sister; I was having a crying episode over Jason and she just grabbed my head and told me with such passion that I was so beautiful, strong, and deserved the world. Safe to say I started crying more lmao but at least it wasn’t from sadness. What's the absolute best feeling in the world? Being in love. Does the person you have feelings for know you feel that way? Yeah. Do you like Tim Burton? Um, duh. How do you feel about hypnotism? I don’t believe it works. It’s just the power of suggestion. How do you feel about Pink Floyd? I’m not a big fan, but I like some songs. What’s your preferred way of keeping fit? Is it something you make time to do on a regular basis? You assume I AM fit… but I really am trying to change that with WiiFit again, once the living room is cleaned up. I plan to insert it into my morning routine. Have you ever raised a puppy? Would you want to or would you prefer to adopt an adult rescued dog? Yes, Teddy. Right now I don’t want another dog, but hypothetically, I’d absolutely go for an adult rescue. Who was the last person to come to your house? Were they an expected visitor? My younger sister. Yes. If you work, is your job the same everyday, or does it vary depending on what you have on? N/A Would you ever be interested in owning your own business? Why or why not? Well, I want to be a freelance photographer, so… It’s not off the ground enough for me to *officially* call it a business, but while it’s absolutely so exciting to picture, it’s also very anxiety-inducing, the idea of it (hopefully) getting to that point since I’m dumb as fuck in regards to business stuff. Do you have your driver’s license? If so, did you find it easy or difficult to learn and pass your test? Ugh, I don’t. I need it so badly, I know, but right now, I couldn’t even if I wanted to because my vision is too bad to possibly pass that part, and I can’t afford to see an eye doctor + get a new prescription. If you have pets, how often do you buy them new treats and toys? Venus is a snake, so… yeah, lol. She needs a bigger terrarium, though, but a 40 gallon is expensive. Roman gets a new toy every now and then, but he doesn’t play with them as much anymore. If you had to work a job that required you to do shifts, would you rather work the early, late or night shift? Early. Get it over with. Do you have a favorite type of survey to take? Yeah; I like the ones that make me think or are just questions I definitely haven’t seen before but are also interesting. Some random questions are way too specific to apply to most people. On a typical day, how long do you spend out of the house? Even before the pandemic, usually zero time. Do you live in a close-kit community? Well we’re the new family on the block, so it’s hard to tell quite yet. People were welcoming, though. Do you have a vlog? NOOOOOOOOOO. If not, have you ever considered starting a vlog? No, I would feel WAY too fuckin awkward. Did you go to AM or PM kindergarten? AM. What are your favorite YouTube channels to watch? The whole world knows Markiplier is my true favorite channel, but lately I’ve really been digging pet (particularly reptile or tarantula) channels, Snake Discovery in specific. I’ve been bingeing the fuck outta them. I’ve officially become the “I know more than you” Petco meme lmao. Which relative(s) do you look the most like? Idk. Have you ever watched a live birth video? FUCK no. I never would. That could be so fucking scarring to middle school kids, for Christ’s sake. I’ve never understood why they show them in a lot of health classes. Have you ever given birth? Fuck to the no; never plan to, either. Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender? Nah. Have you ever worn overalls? Ugh, as a kid. They’re so hideous to me now. If you’re a girl, how old were you when you started your period? I was in the 6th grade, so 11-12. Is your mom mentally stable? I mean she has depression, but otherwise, yeah. What color hair did your first crush have? I can’t really remember who my first crush was with certainty… but I think I might. If I’m right, blond. What was the name of your first crush? ^ in minds, I think Aaron. Did you ever play on Mamamedia.com? Doesn’t ring a bell. Do you remember your first email address? Haha, yeah, it’s still my current one… Did you name your Lego characters? I was more of a Lincoln Logs kid. Do you take medication for anxiety or depression? Both. If so, does it work? Does it help you? Or does it make you feel worse? I’d probably be dead without at least my mood stabilizers. Have you ever had a bag stolen? I don’t believe so. Who was your best friend in high school? Hannia. What book or movie gave you nightmares as a child? Ha, no books or movies, I think, but remember King Ramses from that episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog? Oh, trust me, I HAD NIGHTMARES. What song makes you cry? The most, probably “Eternally Yours” by Motionless In White. I physically cannot listen to it. Does anyone know who your first crush was besides you? Maybe Mom? Idk. How many teachers have you had crushes on? None. Did you make your Barbie dolls get crushes on each other? I actually don’t remember? I don’t think we had any male Barbies, and of course as a little kid raised in the South especially, I didn’t even realize homosexuality was a thing, so we never considered the girls dating. Did your Barbie dolls go on dates? ^ How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16. Do you have scars from self-harm? No, they’re long faded and were thankfully never very severe. Did your hair change at all when you went through puberty? Yep, it gradually turned brown. Are you taller, shorter, or the same height as your mom? We’re the same height. Would you ever consider adopting a child? I don’t want kids, period. The only possible case I see is being a stepmom, but even then I can’t visualize me being one to an actual kid-kid. Just like, maybe a mid-teen and above. Do you trim your own hair? No. What are all the things you remember being for Halloween? I’m very surprised that I don’t remember many at all. I know I was a witch multiple times. What was the name of the first pet that you loved? I adored almost every pet my family has ever had. Our first was a stray cat named Chance we took in. INCREDIBLE animal. What color was your nursery? I have zero clue. Do you exercise regularly? Ugh, no, but I genuinely plan on changing that once the living room is cleaned up and Mom moves into her room. I’m very serious about starting Wii Fit again. I WAS gonna start walking once we moved here, but I found I was too scared to alone. I’m way too paranoid. Do you have a healthy BMI? lol What photo editing software do you use? Lightroom, Photoshop, and very rarely PhotoScape if I’m being lazy with watermarking my photography. Do you live somewhere with lots of livestock or wild animals? Livestock, yeah. You pass cows all the time around here. If you’re in a more wooded area, you’ll find roadkill kinda frequently, sadly. Would you rather live somewhere rural or urban? Rural. It’s the only thing that sucks about our new home – we’re in the suburbs. Is there anything (a hobby, for example) that’s guaranteed to always make you feel better when you’ve had a bad day? Not 100%, really. If the day was truly awful, sometimes nothing helps. If you’re struggling with your mental health, who are you most likely to open up to, or would you bottle it up instead? I vent to my mom the most. What room of your house do you spend the most time in? Is this through choice or necessity? My room, and it’s by choice. The second room that I wanna make my “office” is still LOADED with stuff from moving. If you could design your own garden, what would you have in it? Do you think that dream is ever going to be achievable for you? I don’t want a garden. Does it take you a long time to fall asleep at night? What do you if you’re really struggling to get to sleep? It can take me very, very long. I dread lying down some nights just because I know I’ll be tossing and turning for a good while. If I’ve tried to sleep for a long time to no avail, I do what you shouldn’t do and get back on the laptop. Do you think it’s cruel when people keep exotic animals as pets? Or do you think it’s okay as long as they have the space, time and money to dedicate to them? This depends on the animal and situation. I do believe some rescue cases are justified for the animal’s survival, but as the question mentions, you need to be able to provide adequately for it to be moral imo. I do NOT support exotic pet ownership for the average person. If you eat meat, is there a particular animal you’d never eat? If you don’t eat meat, what’s the reason for it? I could never eat a “pet” animal, nor an animal hunted mostly for sport. Even in survival cases, I’d have a hard time eating a wild animal.

#survey #quiz #questions #questionnaire

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codynaomiswireart · 5 years

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“Gauze in the Wound” - Part 20

The Captain let out a sigh of relief as he and the rest of the company of soldiers slipped out of their horses’ saddles and made their way to the stream running by the side of the path that led to Molson’s Grove. Both men and horses were glad to get the chance to refresh themselves by the cool waters of the stream after having traveled for the last couple of hours in the heat of the burning sun, and on such short and unexpected notice as they had been given that day.

“We must not stop for long Captain,” King Frederic said with a tone of urgency as the Captain splashed his hot and sweaty face several times with the cool and clear water of the stream. “We have to get to Molson’s Grove as soon as we can.”

“Understood, sire,” the Captain replied as he wiped the droplets of water from his eyes, and tried his best to not betray his own feelings of agitation at Frederic’s impatience with him and his men as they took a few moments’ rest by the water’s edge. He couldn’t totally blame him though. The Captain knew King Frederic was just as tired as the rest of them after all that had transpired over the last few days, and as Frederic had filled the Captain in about the queen’s distressing news as they had prepared for travel that day, he could understand why Frederic would be so uneasy…

Yet the Captain was also different from Frederic in that in being an experienced soldier – and also due to his own natural personality – the Captain tended to quell any feelings of anxiety over things he had no control over, and so his patience would often run a bit thin with those who were constantly worrying about things they could not affect nor change in the moment. That had been one of Frederic’s greatest weaknesses, if the Captain were honest, and it often drove the king to either withdraw from conflict altogether, or else act upon it without thinking everything through. Fortunately, Frederic was not adverse to taking counsel from others, and having his ideas challenged by his closest confidants. However, even when Frederic was willing to hear others’ out on important matters, it was never a guarantee that he would heed such counsel and criticisms when they came.

“Well,” the Captain thought to himself as he turned to walk several yards to where the king paced about nervously in the shade of a big oak tree, “hopefully he’ll be willing to listen this time around.”

“Ahem, your majesty?” the Captain began with a nod of greeting as he approached. “If I may make so free as to speak with you a moment?”

“By all means Captain,” Frederic said, now pausing in his pacing, though his tone and expression were still full of an underlying tension. “Go ahead.”

The Captain frowned as he thought of how to begin. “This…situation that we may be facing at Molson’s Grove…Well, I don’t need to tell your majesty that if the queen’s report is accurate, we may very well be facing a threat that we’ve never faced the likes of before in all our years of defense and combat.”

Frederic remained still and silent as the Captain continued.

“I certainly don’t doubt the courage of the men sir,” the Captain said. “But, if I’m to be realistic, I also can’t guarantee that we would be able to keep you safe if…well, if Varian were to go rogue again and do…whatever it is he’s able to do now, apparently.”

Frederic blinked back at him. “And?”

“And,” the Captain said in emphasis as he clenched his fists behind his back, “this means that your life would almost certainly be in danger if that were to happen. I know her majesty said that Varian is currently in no condition to cause any trouble, and that he had acted defensively in her and the kingdom’s favor the other night, but…I still don’t like it sir.” Here the Captain showed the slightest hint of pity in his eyes mixed with determination as he spoke. “After everything he’s done, and in light of my duty to you as Captain of the Guard, I must advise you to consider the potential grave danger that Varian may pose to your person in a possible encounter, and as such I would highly suggest that you return to the capital while we take care of-”

“No, Captain,” King Frederic interrupted firmly, with the Captain looking back at him with his own steely gaze. “I will not run away again.”

“This isn’t about running away your majesty,” the Captain tried again sternly. “This is about being realistic. If I may remind you, you have a kingdom that needs you, and one that needs you alive and well. We cannot afford to have you take such a risk. Not if Corona is to remain in any semblence of stability.”

Frederic frowned hard, and looked away. “No Captain,” Frederic repeated. “I have to be there. I have to make sure that Arianna is all right. And-”

“She said in her note that she was fine,” the Captain replied, trying to conceal his anger that was now beginning to grow at his king’s unreasonable stubbornness. “If I were you, sire, I would trust her majesty on that point, and wait for her back at the castle while we escort her back from the rendezvous point.”

“And if Varian were to go rogue as you seem to fear he might?” the king asked with a piercing glance.

The Captain’s eyebrows scrunched together, and he swallowed hard as he dared to say what he had to say next. “If that indeed becomes the case,” the Captain began slowly, “then it will be all the more reason to ensure that we have at least one of our monarchs still safe in the capital to be able to rule.”

Frederic clenched his jaw and fists at this, but only silence followed as he again turned away and began pacing once more, the shadows of the leafy branches overhead darkening his brow further as he clearly thought hard and painfully over what decision he ought to make. On the basis of pure reason, Frederic knew that the Captain was probably right. If the situation were to escilate, and either he, Arianna, or the both of them were to come to great harm, Corona would be in some dire straights for sure. Especially with Rapunzel – the next heir in line – being so far away in distant lands…and not with the full certainty of returning home again.

“There are the contingency plans,” Frederic mused aloud now, trying to ignore the deep frown from the Captain at this comment. “We have Stan and Nigel looking after things while we are away currently, and if something were to happen to Arianna and I and…and if Rapunzel did not return…” Here Frederic swallowed hard as the old, familiar, searing pain ghosted its way through his heart once again, after he had thought it gone forever once his long-lost daughter had finally been returned to him. “W-we could still send for Arianna’s cousin’s second daughter to come and take the throne, should the worst happen.”

“That seems a pretty hefty gamble to take, your majesty” the Captain replied, earning a look from Frederic, though the Captain did not back down. “And if I may be blunt about this sir, it seems unnecessary to put your people through the even greater uncertainty of saddling them with a new leader that they have never seen, let alone heard much about for that matter. In fact, last I heard, not even the citizens of Arendelle know much about either of their own princesses.”

“I’m sure Iduna wouldn’t have raised any monsters,” Frederic retorted.

“You know that’s not the point,” retorted the Captain, now clearly exaspered as he sighed, and tried to get the conversation back on track. “Look, just be honest with me your majesty, please. Why are you so determined to do this when all reason tells you not to? I don’t mean any offense sire, but really, it does seem very foolhardy, and I can’t make heads or tails of why you want to go so badly.”

Now it was Frederic’s turn to sigh deeply as he looked up at the sky through the branches of the tree.

“…Because I’m tired of being useless.”

The Captain didn’t know what he had expected his king to respond with, but he knew it hadn’t been that. He remained silent as he let his old friend continue sharing his thoughts with him, looking almost more vulnerable than the Captain had ever seen him before; his countenance looking almost like that of a helpless child as he spoke.

“Rapunzel had been right all along…I’m tired of being behind walls, Captain. I’m tired of being up in towers and behind closed doors. I’m tired of watching the women I love more than life itself go off to face danger on my behalf, while I can’t do anything for them in return. I’m tired of being powerless against the forces that seem to be against us, and I’m tired of running. I’m tired of only being able to sit back and worry about how things will go, rather than doing something about it myself.”

Here the king paused, and somehow managed an ironic smile.

“You know, this wouldn’t even be the first time all of us were in danger. All three of us were all there at the Battle of Old Corona-”

Here the Captain frowned again with a stern clearing of his throat as he recalled the memory of that day – of lying incapacitated in the infirmary as he had been informed about the raiding party heading for Varian’s stronghold to rescue the queen, with both the king and Rapunzel being right there on the front lines with everyone. Of course Frederic had taken the opportunity to go when the Captain was in no position to protest against it, and the Captain still wasn’t sure if he had forgiven the king for that.

“Much against your own wishes I know,” the king acknowledged briefly, with a small, sympathetic and grateful glint in his eyes, though this appeared to do little to soften the Captain’s mood as his own face remained stoic. “But…” the king continued anyway, “even though we were all in danger like that, I must say Captain…Perhaps the irrational thrill of battle made me a bit crazy, but it did feel amazing to feel like I was able to do something about what was happening. It had not been much in retrospect, but it was something. Do you know what I mean?”

[“…Someone had to do something! I had to do something!...”]

“…I think some of us would,” the Captain managed to reply diplomatically, though feeling a slight knot in his stomach as Varian’s own words from all those days ago were echoed back at him in the king’s own musings. And what incredible irony it was, given Varian’s own motivations for action in the first place being due in large part to the king’s negligence to act before then.

Not knowing the Captain’s thoughts, however, the king merely gave a small nod and said, “Then you’ll understand why I have to do this. I’m sure you’re right Captain. This could be very dangerous, and I’m putting a lot at risk. But so much would be at risk in either event, should our worst fears be realized. And I’d rather face this head on as king and protector of my people in the here and now, rather than hide behind Corona’s parapets as a mere figurehead, only stalling the inevitable. And…”

Here the king paused again in his speech before daring to say, “You said to trust Arianna’s words, Captain. And if Arianna’s words are trustworthy, Varian did act in defense of her, of Xavier, and indeed Corona as a whole the other night. Like you, this does not mean that I trust the boy now. He’s proven to be dangerous in the past, and I also do not deny the possibility that this…new development may be our undoing from him. But Arianna, for reasons I do not yet fully understand, was willing to give him this chance, and he did come through for her. I’m uncertain about his motivations, yes, but he did. And he is still Quirin’s son. I can’t let my old friend down. Not again. Especially not in light of…of all this magic – magic that neither of our children chose to possess. And whether we like it or not, Varian is still in our charge, and is still a citizen of our kingdom. We must see to it that he is returned, that he does no further harm, and that he gets the help I promised I would give him.” King Frederic frowned. “Up till now, I’ve let you and Xavier take on most of the responsibility for that help, and now Arianna. No more. Now it’s my turn to face this.”

The king set a brotherly hand on the Captain’s shoulder. “I thank you for your advice and your diligence, Captain. I appreciate it. Truly. But I will be going to Molson’s Grove with you all to await Arianna, Xavier, and Varian’s arrival there. I have to do this.”

The Captain’s eyes narrowed a little, but he didn’t put up another word of argument as the king gave his shoulder a half-hearted shake, and then turned away to also refill his canteen before summoning the men to continue their trek deeper into the forest. The Captain let out an uneasy hum as he watched the king walk up to the water’s edge and stoop down for a drink. That conversation had not gone at all the way he had hoped, but the result also didn’t surprise him. Sure, it was possible that Frederic could be right, and perhaps Varian was coming around to a new way of thinking. But the Captain still had his doubts, especially as he remembered his near-broken leg and Cassandra’s bruised ribs from that dreadful night of the battle. Yet he also remembered Varian’s panicked screaming in his sleep that one night as he had a nightmare about hurting people, and the boy’s uncontrollable sobs as the truth came out about how Quirin became encased in the first place. On the other hand, the Captain also vividly recalled the Varian’s looks of deep-rooted resentment that had been a constant on his face since the day he was brought back from the battle.

And if Varian were to have a similar loss of self control as he did back then…If he snapped again now…?

The Captain laid a hand on the pommel of the sword at his side, and also began to immediately think of how to strategize a possible confrontation, recalling a map of Molson’s Grove in his mind as he rejoined the group at the stream and hoisted himself back up onto his horse’s back as the call went out for their journey to continue.

“No funny business now Varian,” the Captain thought threateningly (but also with a hint of pleading, though he tried to ignore that) as he led the line of troops onward. “Don’t make us do something we’ll all regret.”

------------

When it came to Sabine’s Safehouse, Varian had never before been in a nicer place.

While his old lab and his old home would’ve been the most comforting environments of all to him (should they have been able to be brought back from the ashes and rubble of Old Corona), the safehouse was by far the coziest place Varian had ever been in his life. The whole building was constructed with a charming mixture of wood and stonework, the furniture was modest yet very comfortable, there always seemed to be a warm blanket within a short walking distance of any corner of the place, and the door and window frames were all decorated with flowery carvings that had subtle colors painted into them. Instead of carpeted floors, the floors of the safehouse were left as smooth, clean, bare wood, save for a few throw rugs placed here and there where it suited best to have them. There also seemed to be the constant presence of sweet aromas all about the place, though never so strong as to be overpowering, or to block out the fresh scents of the outside that wafted in through the widows that were almost always kept slightly open. It was indeed a very comforting and homey place.

Varian’s own recovery room felt like a tiny living space – not so unlike his living quarters back at the castle. Though instead of being furnished only to the minimum, this room was kitted out generously with bookshelves filled with tomes and novels of various sorts, a fireplace with two high back armchairs set in front of it, a small table with matching wood chairs and a lace tablecloth in another corner, a tasteful selection of paintings hanging on the walls (which were mostly of flowers, animals, and other miscellaneous nature scenes), and candles and lamps set strategically around the room for the best possible light and ambiance for the hours after sunset.

Varian had never known any of his grandparents, so he had never had the experience of going to one of their houses for a visit. But given what he had heard from other people about such visits, he suspected that they were supposed to feel something like this.

Yet despite such welcoming accommodations, Varian was of little disposition to actually enjoy it much. For one thing, he found Sabine herself to be rather irksome. After he had woken up from his charmed sleep, the crazy one-eyed lady had immediately begun bombarding him with questions about how he was feeling, and if he remembered anything before and during his whole unconscious experience. Varian’s only response to such questions had been telling her he felt like he had been hit by a delivery cart, and no, he didn’t remember anything that had happened after she had induced his sleep.

However, the truth was that Varian did indeed remember everything about his unconscious experience. But he didn’t want to talk about it with anyone…especially not after all that he and Lord Demintus had talked about. So, taking great care to not look directly at Ruddiger’s own bewildered expression as he said it, Varian had told the lie that he remembered nothing about his experience beyond hearing Sabine chant the sleep incantation, and then coming to here sometime later. But Ruddiger’s bewilderment at Varian’s response didn’t go unnoticed by Sabine, and while the little creature couldn’t tell her himself all that he had witnessed in Varian’s psyche (as she wasn’t able to communicate with him like she could with Pontus), Varian could tell that she suspected something was up with him. Varian couldn’t hold steady eye contact with her after that, especially when the one eye that she looked at him with once again made him think of what people had told him about visits with their own grandmothers, but not in the pleasant way. Rather, it was the kind of look a grandmother would give her grandkids when she knew they had taken the last of the cookies without her permission and then proceded to lie about it to her face. Naturally, there was still the hope that some more home-baked goodies would be coming again anyway, but you certainly wouldn’t take them without permission again after earning that look.

But even with Sabine’s questioning, and the concerned looks from both Arianna and Xavier as they had also awaited his response that day, Varian couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth about what happened. One reason was because of what Lord Demanitus had told him, but another reason had been because there was still a part of him that wanted so desperately for all of it to have been just a bizarre, bad dream. Things had been complicated enough before the events of the last few days. The last thing Varian wanted was to have to come to terms with what may very well have been a series of actual visions, and to have to cope with all this new business with magic as well.

…Magic…

Varian bit at his bottom lip as his thoughts again turned to it – Varian hating it with every fiber of his being ([“But you may grow to like it…”]) as he stared with a sullen gaze into the small flames flickering about the logs in the fireplace. It had been a little more than twenty-four hours since Varian had regained consciousness, and while he had gone through another natural sleep cycle within that time, no other huge developments (nor fantastical visions) had taken place during that time, save for him managing to get up from bed the next morning.

For the last fifteen minutes or so now, Varian had been sitting in one of the high backed chairs by the hearth in his room, with Ruddiger curled up sleeping in his lap, and Varian stroking the raccoon’s pelt mechanically with a gloved hand, taking care to not ruffle the bandages on Ruddiger’s side. Varian also tried hard to ignore the round patch of white fur still present on Ruddiger’s forehead – a further testiment to the horrible reality of the situation from the day before. By now, Varian had been told about Pontus bestowing some of his powers as a familiar to Ruddiger, and that this was how Ruddiger was able to reach Varian in the dream world. Yet even though Varian had seen the two creatures exchange some sort of communication with each other shortly after his and Ruddiger’s return to the waking world, Pontus did not take back whatever magic he had given to Ruddiger, and as the stag was now mysteriously absent from the scene for reasons unknown to any of the humans in the house, Varian was unable to know for sure whether this was because Pontus couldn’t take them back, or because he chose not to.

…And if he chose not to, then why?

Varian’s brow furrowed in suspicion at this question as his gloved fingers scratched gently along Ruddiger’s spine, earning a small purr from the raccoon, who then rolled lazily onto his back so Varian could also rub his tummy. Underneath his gloves, Varian’s hands remained bandaged, though Sabine had taken the time to change the dressings earlier after Varian had come back around. Varian had winced hard as he saw for the first time the darkened skin of his hands and forearms, and he also caught a glimpse in the dresser mirror of the markings that peeped out from along his hairline as Sabine changed the bandages around his forehead as well.

It had been an unnerving sight to say the least.

It was also during this time – as Sabine struggled to push Varian’s locks out of the way of where the bandages needed to go around his head – that Varian came to notice how his hair had grown out more over his time in custody. But this only lead to yet another revelation about the strange effects of the Moon Drop’s magic on Varian since the night of its awakening in him, for as Sabine had tried to trim off some of Varian’s hair in order to make tending to his head wounds more manageable, her scissors unexpectedly shattered in her hand as she closed the twin blades around the dark strands, and thus they all came to find that Varian’s hair had now become unbreakable – just like Rapunzel’s. Considering Sabine’s own choice of wild hairstyle, Varian couldn’t help but feel a flickering moment of relief that she could do nothing very profound to affect his own look. However, such a feeling was very short lived, and it was quickly replaced with a deeply sour mood that had persisted up through the present moment.

While Varian absolutely hated the idea of paralleling Rapunzel of all people in such ways, he did eventually relent to allowing Sabine to pull his hair back into a small, low ponytail, in order to help keep it out of the way for the time being while the bandages had been applied around his hairline. The new hairstyle felt very strange to Varian, and he dreaded the possibility of his hair continuing to grow even longer without being able to cut it, but perhaps the one comfort that the parallels to Rapunzel could offer him on this point was the possibility that after coming into this unbreakable state, such hair would also not grow beyond that point.

Not being able to grow, nor being able to be cut – as if it were frozen in time, with Varian’s soul feeling very much the same way…

Perhaps he should try moving about a bit more.

With a heavy sigh, Varian gingerly got up from his seat, with Ruddiger letting out a yawn as he blinked his bleary eyes open, and conceded to get off Varian’s lap with a soft bound to the floor. After stretching his aching back and shoulder muscles, Varian put on over his nightclothes the slippers and robe that had been left for him on the bedspread, and headed out to the hallway to begin to look for the bathroom. About a half hour earlier, Sabine had popped in to tell him that she had drawn a warm bath for him, and that it would be ready for him whenever he was. Despite Varian’s dejected mood about everything, he figured he might as well try to have a good soak and get cleaned up a little, even if the water only ended up being lukewarm again by the time he worked up the wherewithal to move.

However, whether by some magic or some device that Varian was unaware of, the water in the tub was plenty warm by the time he got into it, and even the dark cloud that seemed to surround Varian’s soul that whole day couldn’t help but lift just a little as he was able to relax in the foamy, lavender-scented water, and he could feel it seep through the bandages covering his burns and somehow soothe his wounds. While Varian had been hesitant to submerge any of his bandages into the water, Sabine had also reassured him that they would not come undone if he did this, and that the bandages would quickly dry again afterwards once he was finished. Varian didn’t even bother asking if this was due to some sort of magic or alchemy in their makeup, or somehow both. As it was, he didn’t really want to know.

…Magic…

Varian frowned as he tilted his head back and stared up at the bathroom ceiling, the light reflecting off the bath water leaving shimmering patterns that danced about dimly up there. Varian’s eyebrows scrunched together as this subtly reminded him of the celestial plain that he had seen in his dreams, with its liquid land underfoot and glittering celestial lights streaming overhead. And before that, the feeling of sinking below its surface in the dark depths of…wherever all that was. Varian still wasn’t quite sure what to think about it, or what to call it.

No, he knew for sure. He had to tell himself that. There was nothing mysterious about it. It was all just a figment of his imagination.

“It was all just a dream,” he tried insisting again to himself with a shake of his head. He then let himself sink again now, but only below the surface of the sudsy bath water with a deep, grumpy breath, and really wishing that he could make himself believe his own words as he felt the water close up over his head, and could feel it begin to alleviate the pain that had prickled along his scalp. “It was all just a dream…”

---------------

“Oh good, you’re up!” Sabine chimed to Varian some minutes later as the boy shuffled his way into the kitchen, where Sabine appeared to be preparing some sort of light meal at the counter. Ruddiger cheerfully led the way in front of Varian as the two came in, and the raccoon greeted Sabine with a friendly chortle as she knelt down to give him a scratch underneath his chin. Sabine looked at Varian with her one good eye as she stood back up. “How are you feeling, young one?”

Varian’s eyes narrowed slightly at the lady’s question. Another quality he found rather off-putting about the healer was her peculiar style of speech, which seemed at times to be reminiscent of something out of an old fairytale book – calling him things like “young one” or “young master” or even simply “child.” That last one especially annoyed him, and he almost wanted to tell Sabine off for it.

But, as it was, Varian didn’t feel like he had the energy, so instead of arguing with her he simply answered with a glum, “…Ok I guess…”

“Hmm,” Sabine hummed pensively as she studied him for a moment, with Varian shifting awkwardly beneath her one-eyed gaze. “How does your head feel?”

“Again with the questions,” Varian thought with a mental eyeroll, but managed to simply reply in a dull tone, “Throbbing.”

“Yes,” Sabine said with a small sigh. “Such is to be expected. I trust the bath helped at least a little bit though, yes?”

Varian shrugged sulkily. “I guess.”

“Mmm,” Sabine hummed again as she looked him in the face. “I can see you also still have a fever too,” she said in a musing tone, and bringing a thoughtful finger to her chin. “I had hoped that the bath would help alleviate that as well…But at least your temperature hasn’t increased in the last few hours. That’s a good sign. What else ails you at present?”

“You,” Varian wanted to say out loud as he felt himself losing patience with Sabine’s prying, but again he managed to contain himself as he said, “Just…aching all over.”

Sabine responded to this with a look that was a bit hard for Varian to read. He thought he could detect some sort of suspicion in her countenance, but also something of deep sympathy as well. For a few seconds, Varian tried to hold eye contact with her, as if wordlessly carrying out an act of defiance towards her and her attempts to break through his defensive demeanor with her confusing mannerisms. But Varian found he couldn’t keep that up for long. Not that Sabine’s look was at all glaring or condescending towards him, but something about it made his stomach turn into knots on the inside as he tried to look at her steadily. He lowered his eyes, and subconsciously began rubbing at his arm nervously.

Reading the boy’s body language, Sabine finally relented with a gentle, “I see,” and then continued on with a more lighthearted, “Well, you came just in time, young master. I was just preparing some afternoon tea for some of our other guests, and I’ve heard tell that Xavier has taught you a thing or two about creating a good brew. Would you mind helping me whip up a pot for everyone while I finish with the apple pies?”

Varian blinked up at her, feeling completely thrown for a few seconds by suddenly being asked to do a favor out of the blue like this (especially given his current condition). He also concluded for one hundred percent that this lady was the epitome of eccentricity, if not outright crazy. The mentioning of Xavier and his lessons about tea also put another knot into Varian’s stomach – one that twisted especially hard. While Varian was dimly aware that the healer’s invitation was most likely a well-meant attempt at cheering him up, or at the very least just giving him something to do to, he couldn’t help but feel further resentment towards her for it. Even though it had only been a few days ago since he and Xavier had last had tea together in the forge, after everything that happened, it felt like almost an eternity had passed since then, and it impressed further onto Varian how alienating things suddenly felt.

…And how absurd they seemed too, especially in light of everything that had now happened.

[“I’ve lost my home! I’ve lost my freedom! I’m stuck here doing stupid, meaningless work and drinking tea while my dad is still trapped in an amber that I made!!! I don’t even know if I’ll ever see him again!! Ooooh no, but no, it’s ok! Really! It’s all fine! Just write a few equations, hammer down some steel, or read a bunch of fairytales for a few hours and it’s all gone! Poof! Completely forgotten! Never happened!...”]

Thus by this point now, Varian was just done cooperating. Without even giving Sabine the courtesy of a verbal response, Varian wordlessly turned away and sank his way down into one of the empty chairs at the kitchen table, letting his head rest on his arms crossed on the tabletop in front of him, and turning his face away towards the window as Ruddiger cooed in a concerned tone from his place on the floor.

“I see,” Sabine said gently after a moment’s pause. “Well, if you feel up to joining the others, tea will be served in eight and a half minutes out on the veranda. I will also need to apply more salve to your burns at five o’clock sharp. In the meantime, young master, you may make yourself at home, and please let me know if you need anything.”

Varian made no move to indicate that he had heard Sabine, but of course they both knew he had. As Sabine continued to bustle about the kitchen, Varian found himself lazily tracing a gloved finger along the grain of the wood table as he let his mind wander again. It had been so frustrating to be stuck yet again in a situation where Varian could do little to nothing about it all. Had it been within his power, Varian would’ve headed back to Corona straight away (whether by a magical warping house, or on foot if he had to, or even if he had to crawl all the way there if his body failed him otherwise), but Sabine had told him that the house’s magic needed time to regenerate in order to make another jump from Equis to Molson’s Grove in Corona.

“All magic comes with a price,” she had told him, while ghosting a hand thoughtfully over her patched eye with a frown. “In this case, the price has to be made in the form of time I’m afraid.”

But Varian was so tired of waiting. If only he had gone to Old Corona while he had the chance! Or if the Separatists of Saporia hadn’t attacked when they did and brought the whole of the kingdom to a screeching halt, it could’ve all been over by now. His dad could’ve been freed, and then…Well, Varian wasn’t sure about after that, if he were honest.

…But…perhaps he would have some ideas…If it was real…And if what he said was-

“All set!” Varian heard Sabine announce, snapping him out of his thoughts as she scooped up a wooden tray that held the various tea things and a small platter of scones.

“Oh…erm, would you mind carrying the pies out for me dear? My hands are full.”

Varian looked up miserably at her from where he sat at the kitchen table, and was almost of half a mind to just not move out of spite. But somehow, perhaps due in large part to his own appetite wanting an excuse to partake of the warm, fresh pastries, Varian sulkily got up from his place, and picked up the plate full of small, personal sized apple pies, and proceeded to follow Sabine onto the veranda, with Ruddiger coming up cautiously behind him at his heels.

As the trio approached a small set of table and chairs placed near the corner of the veranda, Varian felt his heart sink inside of him as he saw Xavier sitting at one of the chairs, and again he felt a sharp twisting inside of his stomach. Varian stopped for a moment, wanting for a moment to turn back around and retreat into his room; not wanting to face yet another betrayer of his trust. But somehow, perhaps due now to Ruddiger’s gentle nudging from behind, Varian gathered himself, and angrily approached the spot where the blacksmith appeared to be sitting opposite another person at the table. On the table, Varian could see that a full chess set was spread out atop it, and Xavier seemed to be in the middle of a round with the other guest sitting opposite him. Naturally, Varian assumed that this other guest must’ve been Queen Arianna, but as Varian rounded the corner of the house and could finally see who it was-

“GAH! Whoa whoa wha- WH-WHAT IS HE DOING HERE!?” Varian couldn’t help but exclaim in utter perplexity and nearly dropping the plate of pies as he saw that the person sitting opposite Xavier was the male Saporian spy that they had fought the other night!

“I’m having my lunch,” the man answered Varian smugly as he bit into what appeared to be some sort of sandwich, and Varian glared hard at him in return.

“Easy now, young master,” Sabine reassured Varian over her shoulder as she set down the tray of tea items on the table, and gave the Saporian spy a stern look. “No one will hurt you here I can assure you. Isn’t that right, Donovan?”

“No need to patronize me Sabine,” said the spy. “As you can see, we’ve all getting along quite swimmingly at present.”

“I’m not sure I’d put it that way,” Xavier now chimed in as he moved his own bishop piece to take out one of Donovan’s knights. “But yes, for the time being, I see no reason for us to fight.”

Donovan frowned at Xavier’s words and the capturing of his knight, and took another hard bite from his sandwich as he planned his next move, and Varian tentatively handed the plate of pies to Sabine who began dishing up the treats for everyone.

Varian crossed his arms in front of him, trying to ignore the feeling of vulnerability that he felt in facing the Saporian agent while wearing recovery clothing and looking like a total wreck. “So, what?” Varian began questioning the agent. “Did you just feel like hanging around here for tea and toast? I’d have thought you would have other things to do, like stabbing people in the back for instance.”

“Oh, you do go on about things, don’t you?” Donovan replied with a mocking glance at Varian, causing Ruddiger to bristle from where he now sat perched on the back of the chair next to where Varian stood, and Xavier raising his eyebrows at him in his own warning. “But very well. For your information, I’m here waiting until my sister is well enough to make the journey to rejoin our comrades – Sabine’s healing expertise in exchange for my letting you go free…for now.”

“No making threats here Donovan, if you please,” Sabine said as she passed him and Xavier their plates of pies and scones. “Or else you and your sister may leave right this minute.”

“Tch!” Donovan chuffed, but conceded to back off a bit as he finished off the last of his sandwich and turned now to his teacup.

“Oh, finally!” Varian heard yet another horribly familiar voice call from the safehouse’s doorway, causing him to stiffen as the lady spy now came limping passed him to grab her own serving of tea and treats. “So, was anyone going to tell me that tea was being served out here, or was I just supposed to figure that out myself?”

“I can’t be expected to be in two places at once now can I, Hilda?” Sabine retorted with a mixture of irritation and amusement.

“With your magic, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Hilda replied, before turning to fix her gaze on Varian. “Well, it seems you got me good, little brother,” she said as she gestured to her injured leg. “I hope you’re happy.”

Varian didn’t reply to this beyond clenching his fists at his sides.

“Also, you’ve got bony elbows, you know that?”

“What?” Varian asked in terse confusion.

“Oh yeah, sorry, my bad,” Hilda said sarcastically as she took a bite out of her blueberry scone. “I guess you wouldn’t remember much about us both hitching a ride on Pontus to get here, would you? I swear, the hassle that it was trying to keep your flimsy unconscious body from falling off that whole time-”

“All right Hilda, that’s enough,” Sabine interrupted. “Now, if you lot aren’t going to be able to get through tea without quarreling, I suggest you take it elsewhere, because I won’t have it in my house.”

“Fine, whatever,” Hilda replied with a shrug, and proceeded to scoop up her tea things as she made to head back into the house. “You coming brother?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Donovan said with a sigh and getting up from his seat. “This game was getting quite dull anyway.”

“Oh, I found it quite riveting,” said Xavier, as he moved his queen on the next turn, bringing the game to a solid checkmate in his favor. “But if you’d like to have a go again sometime, I’ll be waiting.”

With a soft huff, Donovan turned away from the table, and followed his sister into the house, the latter of whom Varian could hear giggling about her brother’s defeat and his own grumbling retort back at her. With the two of them now gone from the scene, it was now Sabine, Xavier, Varian, and Ruddiger left on the veranda. Varian didn’t make eye contact with any of them as he sunk down into his own chair, and despite the absense of the Saporian enemies, the atmosphere remained tense.

“Well,” Sabine continued after a moment’s awkward pause. “I believe I’ll go to see if her majesty would be interested in having tea as well. Please, excuse me.”

As Sabine went back into the house, Varian clutched his gloved hands in his lap – hating the feeling of Xavier’s eyes on him as he waited for him to speak.

…Here they were yet again, with tea and sweet treats…but oh, how things had changed now.

…It was time for a talk.

------------

Yup, threw in a "Frozen" reference in there for fun!

I'm pretty sure real royal succession wouldn't work the way that King Frederic had described it, but I really do like the "Frozen"/"Tangled" theory that suggests that Queen Iduna is somehow related to Queen Arianna (as they are somewhat similar in appearance), and as such, the royal families of Corona and Arendelle would be connected through marriage, and thus Princess Anna may have been called in to rule Corona should Rapunzel not have returned (either from her years of being held prisoner by Mother Gothel, or from her journey to the Dark Kingdom).

#tts #rta #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #fan fiction #gauze in the wound #varian #king frederic #captain of the guard #xavier the blacksmith #sabine the wounded healer #ruddiger #rudiger #the separatists of saporia

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sole-cuore-amore-e-droga · 5 years

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Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Iceland to Eurovision with a plan to end capitalism... with cakes!

youtube

Meanwhile, in Iceland...

Iceland’s a peaceful nation, innit? So calm, so serene, they wouldn’t even want to squish a fly and would rather wish it a nice day if they were personified as a whole. Except that they’re actually not quite and firstly reacted rather massively negatively on the news of Israel going up for to host Eurovision 2019, even with 23,000 Icelanders signing a petition calling on the Icelandic national broadcaster to boycott the contest, and even the big Söngvakeppnin 2017 darling Daði Freyr signed it. I admire their courage but broadcasters are broadcasters and if they take proverbial decisions and later are fine with everything, I don’t see why wouldn’t try participating anyways, and THEN withdraw if there are issues with something, like last minute call from EBU to get their shit together with funding or a faulty national final contract...

Well, fuck your protests, RÚV said, and went ahead with another Söngvakeppnin edition in the works.

And boy I assume the protest was large af if only 10 entries ended up being chosen for the final cut... what was Iceland gonna do? Have 4 finalists in total? Well no, someone was gonna get a wildcard to round up the finalists in the end.

But enough about that. Out of all of those 10 acts, full of mostly okay songs, we saw a clear win for the ones and only - it's the anti-capitalist award winning techno BDSM bondage unicorn soft boy couple goals kids loving sprinkles and rainbows performance art project group Hatari that went and enjoyed their time in Tel Aviv already, with their kick-ass song, "Hatrið mun sigra".

And oh boy was it an exciting pick for Iceland. Do you remember their last year's entry? Well, this year Iceland decided to shit all over their love and peace mindset by presenting us with series of bold statements like "Life is meaningless!", "Happiness comes to an end!", "Europe will crumble!"... right after the year they were all about the choice we could make to help and to heal in different ways. Feels though as if we should have swapped the entries because with "Hatrið mun sigra"'s events coming to life, "Our Choice" sounds like an aftermath because with happiness ending, so are people's stabilities, and too many would indeed be dying in vain. And how the world is starting to learn all over again about the acceptance of one another, and all that. It truly is Ari in the streets and Hatari in the sheets. ;)

Let's take a minute to appreciate the entry itself though. It opens up with eerie buzzes, off-measure beat and a warning "huh!" shout, that leads us all into this beautiful musical kingdom. Its instrumental is badass. It's one hypnotic techno tune that could easily be used in a car commercial. Or a catwalk. Or a glorious boss fight in an 8 bit game. What makes it more unique is the vocal balance - Hatari's core force are the two cousins Matthías and Klemens, who created the band and recruited their friends to help them on tours I suppose, and now the friends are here with them in Tel Aviv. The thing that makes it somewhat eyebrow raising, despite being a damn fine techno piece, is the instant screaming of the lyrics in the verses (courtesy of Matthías) and the light angel-esque vocal sound that's kinda reminiscent of Sigur Rós's Jónsi (courtesy of Klemens). Yin-yang if you will. A subtle balance of the two, and even the Icelandic meme mother Morges pointed it out that if it were only Matthías's growls on the song or Klemens's falsetto, it would sound too much and people would be bored by it.

Other than this song being perfectly composed (even with including a god damn keychange) and making me wanna dance, there's an image tying it all together. I did say it earlier that one part of Hatari's many descriptions is BDSM and bondage. And this definitely is there on their imagery, especially on the Icelandic NF. The boxes, the choreography, the color red, the backgrounds... everything on here is life. The way Matthías gets one of the Hatari dancers by the neck at the very end of their NF performance is just... unexplainably flawless. Go watch it here.

Some might say that this whole thing is more reminiscent of AWS from last year, but this isn't quite true. AWS were simple boys with nothing much in mind for Eurovision other than to make a "typical metal show". Hatari are here with a proper message to dismantle capitalism. AWS were just fun, Hatari are both fun and condescending. AWS didn't really have all that buzz going on for themselves in the odds, Hatari are still sitting in bookies top 10 as of now. AWS didn't prepare anything shocking for the audiences other than playing really loud and the scream breakdown only coming in on the bridge of the song. Hatari is full on onto you with everything - the costumes, the words, and so on, and the screaming is already on with them verses. And Hatari have way more chances to be memorable than AWS by being completely outstanding in everything. We love bondage kings singing in Icelandic (the language's 2nd appearance in Eurovision from an Icelandic song in this decade, first time it happened in 2013). We truly do. (And so do I still love the AWS boys, don't mind me.)

So as a whole I'd like to say that I really, REALLY adore this. It's expressive, it's divisive, it's brave, it doesn't care if you hate it, it's there and it's divine. I didn't really piece my thoughts well together on this, but I will forever find a lot of nice things to say on it, after all this time, always. ♡ The whole team and the whole marketing from Iceland Music News is perfect. The song is perfect. The composition is perfect. The chorus and the chorus lyrics are love. The performance... could use some good camerawork, but still. I'm crying at how much this is beautiful. Iceland's alternative scene is banging and them finally submitting something from one of its many outskirts among all of those pop songs is a victory on its own. Love, love, love Hatari. I bow down to these great people for existing and ending up on Eurovision.

Now tell me, how are you not going to love a band that was noticed by Icethony Landtano himself? ★

And how are you not going to love a band that loves children? And cakes? If you don’t, then shame on you, really. ;p

Approval factor: no. ....... way I’m not going to approve this ;) I want more epic Iceland after that, too.

Follow-up factor: Actually, that's the best possible way of approval I've ever seen. It's a complete 180 of an entry jump that it's impossible to believe the angel Ari came before Hatari. Good job, Iceland! Keep going that good way!

Qualification factor: Well, this is a case of all or nothing, where an entry is so loudly and proudly different that you don't know exactly where is it gonna place. If AWS had some sort of struggles to qualify (they were 4 fucking points over Romania last year), so would have Hatari, but only if the televote doesn't give them enough love against the jury's hatred. But for now I'd remain extremely and utterly positive over the boys. =) The final will hear of that song about the dystopia, the power and powerlessness, the hope and hopelessness, and that if we don't remember to love, the hatred will prevail and the capitalism will overwhelm the world. (so I secretly hope for them to win too haha)

NATIONAL FINAL BONUS

Honestly, thank you RÚV for making Söngvakeppnin 2019 happen despite the petition. I love it how a band with the most shocking atmosphere won - kinda embodies the feeling of most of this nation's about what's going in Israel and Palstine. But no more on that. I'll not discuss that anymore. It's highlights time:

• At this point, who needs NF highlights if Hatari are highlights themselves. ♥ I love a token unphased contestant - the one that minds one's own business by not being overly happy - in fact, most of the things that occured to Hatari are, in their own words, "according to plan"! So they're all like, "yeah we entered and thanks to us being here, we're definitely winning this, and will definitely win Eurovision after winning that". Them drinking SodaDream in their tracksuits and not giving a single fuck about the surroundings, especially after being announced as qualifiers to the NF final, was an absolute #mood. They even were amazing on a show named 12stig (where Icelandic NF participants are talking about what will they do in the NF, what will they do if they make it to Tel Aviv after winning, etc.), with Matthías basically serving as the spokesperson for Klemens's piece of mind, and then them both doing a hand gesture,.. Communicating through one's whispers being voiced by a mastermind. Sounds like a horror movie concept.

• And no, I didn't love Hatari only - there was this one joyful great love pop song bearer finalist Tara Mobee whose song I liked. Other favourite acts include this indie blues number by a Faroese madame Kristina Skoubo, a silly pop/dance perfection by Daníel Óliver and a country-ish flavoured folk-ish pop song by Ívar Daníels. Granted they're too tame in comparison to Hatari, but they could have been other great alternatives for Eurovision! Unlike the two returning artists that competed... Hera Björk being one of them... she signed the petition against Iceland in 2019 Eurovision FFS! and yet she's here with her mind changed??

• Ari Ólafsson returning for a both winner reprise AND an epic and unexpected take on "Grande amore", one of the beloved Italian entries. Can't believe that actually became a thing but... here you go I suppose? Flawless vocals. If anyone deserves to repeat their ESC stint from Iceland, it's Ari.

youtube

• Other highlights of the final night were Yohanna reprising her 2nd placer smash hit "Is It True?" 10 years later and even doing an Icelandic "Shallow" cover with the hosts ❤ and even Selma from Jerusalem 1999 fame came on the show too, but only in the green room!

• That one time I saw Friðrik Ómar (one of the two returning artist potential contestants) wearing a Freddie Mercury shirt ❤

• This honest to God mess of a performance and honest to God mess of a song. The song was a football anthem from 00s ripoff, the guy looked like Lil Pump and sounded annoying ("BLÆ BLÆ BLÆ"), the girls were salvageable, the chorus is cute and the performance? "So how many colors and dancers do you want?" "Yes." I hated it but 'twas fun I s'pose.

• I loved laughing at certain things of Söngvakeppnin, like the random insert of all the other contestants into ads and a lot of times I had to see the recap of all the (super)finalists. That's the only non-musical highlight I have aside from postcards, sorry Eleni. ❤ Your repeat performance of "Fuego"/"Tómame" from the Spanish NF and your trashbag dresses were still sleek tho.

Think that's all I'm gonna talk about. For now I would just love to end this by saying that Hatari might be scary, but children indeed love them (a lot of Hatari support posters in the NF were held by children, some of them teens even had bondage masks lol. Besides, 2 of the main members (if you count the band’s drummer Einar alongside the main members list) have kids on their own so it's understandable). Hatari might be impudent, but it attracts some people who love crazy in Eurovision. Hatari might be too political, but they're here in Tel Aviv to raise awareness, not to outright fucking protest - they know their goddamn limits, okay?? So for now, I'd just like to wish everyone involved in Iceland's entry the best in their life and to know that they contributed to one of the best things that happened to Eurovision. Only the eternal glory to the Icelandic lords and saviours. HATRED CAN AND WILL PREVAIL, END OF.

Oh and cakes!

#eurovision 2019 #tel aviv 2019 reviews #iceland 2019 #hatari #hatrið mun sigra #iceland

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battlefieldheart · 7 years

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Let’s talk Andrew Minyard.

More specifically, let’s talk Andrew Minayrd in terms of his disorder.

Disclaimer: I’m not a mental health professional. I’m just a girl that’s been coping with mental disorders for half her life and has a tendency to research even the smallest things about them. (and has also been professionally diagnosed with Bipolar II, if that ups my credibility any.)

So let’s begin with what Nora herself has said.

“Last I checked*, Andrew is manic depressive, with more deep lows than highs.“ (x)

If anyone doesn’t know, “manic depressive” is another way of saying Bipolar. If you want to be even more specific, Manic Depression was the previous term for Bipolar Disorder, but it was changed when Bipolar was split into types, mainly because Bipolar I doesn’t need depressive episodes to be diagnosed. Nowadays, most of the time if you hear Manic Depression, it’s commonly referring to Bipolar II, which has alternating periods of major depression and mildly elevated moods (otherwise known as hypomania). So, through Nora’s wording of what Andrew’s disorder is, we can assume he has Bipolar II.

But I know the fandom likes to disregard canon in certain instances, so let me just continue trying to make my case.

So first, let’s just define what makes a manic episode and what makes a depressive episode, as defined by the National Institute of Mental Health. (x)

Mania:

Feel very “up,” “high,” or elated

Have a lot of energy

Have increased activity levels

Feel “jumpy” or “wired”

Have trouble sleeping

Become more active than usual

Talk really fast about a lot of different things

Be agitated, irritable, or “touchy”

Feel like their thoughts are going very fast

Think they can do a lot of things at once

Do risky things, like spend a lot of money or have reckless sex

Depressive:

Feel very sad, down, empty, or hopeless

Have very little energy

Have decreased activity levels

Have trouble sleeping, they may sleep too little or too much

Feel like they can’t enjoy anything

Feel worried and empty

Have trouble concentrating

Forget things a lot

Eat too much or too little

Feel tired or “slowed down”

Think about death or suicide

There are also Hypomanic episodes, which have the same symptoms as Manic episodes, but aren’t as extreme as in a full mania.

Now, another thing you need to realize about these episodes is that they have to deviate from what the person normally acts like to be considered and episode. So while irritability and touchiness are considered symptoms of mania, in Andrew, who is normally irritable, I wouldn’t consider it a symptom of him being manic unless it was much, much worse than normal.

Now, let’s talk about the types of Bipolar Disorder before and start narrowing it down.

There are four main categories; Bipolar I, Bipolar II, Cyclothymia, and Unspecified Bipolar Disorder.

Unspecified Bipolar Disorder is diagnosed when one shows symptoms of Bipolar Disorder, but their symptoms don’t match up well enough with any of the three other types well enough for a diagnosis to be made.

Cyclothymia can be “defined by numerous periods of hypomanic symptoms as well numerous periods of depressive symptoms lasting for at least 2 years (1 year in children and adolescents). However, the symptoms do not meet the diagnostic requirements for a hypomanic episode and a depressive episode.”

Let’s move on to Bipolar I. Bipolar I is mainly characterized by long periods of mania. Depressive episodes often occur during Bipolar I, but aren’t necessary for a diagnosis according to the DSM-5. Also, the manic episodes are often extreme enough to lead to hospitalization. Bipolar I is easier to diagnose than Bipolar II and is usually diagnosed at an earlier age.

Bipolar II, on the other hand, is categorized by hypomanic episodes lasting at least 4 days (when I was in therapy, I was taught that hypomania is similar to periods. Count the days, and if you can make it through four, you’re basically home free) and major depressive episodes lasting at least two weeks. Bipolar II usually doesn’t result in hospitalization and is much harder to diagnose (most cases, especially in younger patients, are misdiagnosed as Depression). While the highs aren’t as high in Bipolar II, the lows are much lower and last longer.

So, what does this mean for (one of) our favorite PSU Exy goalkeeper(s)?

First off, let’s set a base. Andrew, on his medication, is often referred to as Manic and shows symptoms of mania (fast talking, impulsive, extra irritable, etc.) so we’ll set that as a standard for what a full blown mania would look like for him.

Therefore, since Bipolar I is known for extended periods of full mania, I think we can safely say he is not Bipolar I. So that leaves Bipolar II and Cyclothymia.

Let’s talk about Andrew symptoms.

I’d say he does display a couple of manic symptoms (reckless spending, substance abuse) but he more shows symptoms of Depression. While you could refer to this as a mixed episode, I don’t quite feel comfortable doing that. I actually show a couple of symptoms typically associated with mania (namely irritability) in my depressive episodes, so it’s not uncommon for the line to be a bit blurred.

As for his Depressive symptoms, I’d say he shows:

hopelessness (”You are a pipedream”, anyone?)

lethargy

apathy

sleep problems (which could be linked more to his trauma than a mental illness)

Inability to enjoy things

Feeling empty

And that’s just what we’re told. We don’t know everything he thinks or feels.

I think he definitely shows more than enough symptoms of Depression that are bad enough to avoid the diagnosis of Cyclothymia. But he can’t be Bipolar II, right?? The only time he’s manic is on his pills!

Actually, that’s not quite right. Let’s discuss Rapid Episodes or Rapid Cycling.

Rapid Episoding is when a person with Bipolar Disorder has more episodes per year than average. AKA...they have at least four episodes in 12 months. And Rapid Episoding only occurs in about 10-20% of those with Bipolar disorder and is more prevalent in women. (x)

If we assume Andrew is cis male and assume he is not Rapid Episoding, then he would only have at most 3-4 episodes in a calendar year. If we also atake into account that hypomanic episodes last at least 4 days and (in my experience) usually no more than two weeks, it’s likely he could have had a hypomanic episode that wasn’t in the books. Or,even more likely, he didn’t have one over during the books. After all, we did only see him off his medication for about four months during The King’s Men. It’s likely he was either in a depressive episode during that entire time or that he was in a depressive mood for part of it and evened out or ‘normalized’ for another part. Even if he is Rapid Episoding, there’s no promise he would have had a hypomanic episode during that time frame anyway.

Speaking of his medication, he was manic that entire time! Doesn’t a long period of full blown mania mean Bipolar I??

No, that doesn’t make him Bipolar I. Want to know why? He was very, very likely misdiagnosed and put on the wrong kind of medication. Do you know what some antidepressants do? De-stabilize moods. Which is the exact opposite of what you want to do for someone that has Bipolar Disorder. Antidepressants, when not mixed with a mood stabilizer or antipsychotic, often cause mania when prescribed to a patient with Bipolar Disorder, according to a therapist I once saw.

Let me just talk for a minute here about my personal experiences. Remember, I’m just one person and my experiences aren’t everyone’s. I was misdiagnosed as Depressed for four years before and as such was put on multiple different antidepressants. Every last one I tried made me feel so (for lack of a better word) fucked up. Everything was off while I was on them. My actions, my brain functions, my emotions...everything. But a mixture of antidepressants and antipsychotic drugs? Worked like a charm.

So, in my opinion based off this evidence, Andrew Minyard is Bipolar II. The evidence does corroborate what Nora herself said.

Just adding onto this:

Bipolar Disorder is very, very genetic. Especially in identical twins, who are three more times to both have Bipolar Disorder than fraternal twins. It’s also said that as the generations go on, Bipolar Disorder gets worse and gets diagnosed at a much earlier age. It’s very likely that Andrew and Aaron both have a genetic predisposition for Bipolar Disorder. (Another personal experience time: The only other person in my family that’s been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder is my aunt, who had her children taken away from her because she was abusing them and had substance abuse problems.) I can’t make a case for Tilda being Bipolar, since we aren’t given too much information on her, but if she was, Andrew (and Aaron tbh) would have a genetic predisposition for it mixed with childhood trauma and stressful situations. Bipolar Disorder often manifests and is diagnosed in the late-teens to early-twenties, so there’s a chance that Aaron is also Bipolar and just hasn’t developed the symptoms yet.

#andrew minyard #this post is so long but hey whatever

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wish4youff · 7 years

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09 ~ Runaway Ghost

King

Three to none; it’s always been the same game with us. Surprisingly, neither of one of us became bored with the same old ritual. As if something was to change; it’ll break us. Funny how change happened nonetheless breaking us by using the odds put up against us to prove my point exactly. We’ll would have never worked out. We will never work out. Standing here I know this isn’t what I expected. I came here for her, even if it is a complete waste, I did. Her words; the change of mood and attitude have all caught me off guard now. It’s all changed from the young girl I once knew and if I’m being a hundred percent honest, I loved. She’s caught me off guard with her new nonchalant, yet so emotional act. Chrissie has always had a mouth on her. Never walking away without wanting to let you know she can have and will have the last word. “I know you good enough, King. It ain’t nothing you can explain to me. All you can do for me; is forgot about me.” I preached to Chrissie to ‘never say it unless you meant it,’ and right now it seems like BabyGirl has forgotten those words because we both know if we ever bypass this emotional ride; she’ll want to understand me more now man and less as a teenager. “Never say it unless you mean it, BabyGirl.” My words come out low, almost inaudible, but I see the revelation cross her face the second I say it. Chrissie remembers those words. For more, it’s buried deep, but I don’t even think she knows why I truly say it.

“Forgetting you is pretty difficult especially when all I can think about at times is you. See? Regardless of what you may believe Chrissie, I didn’t walk away because I hated you, but I walk away because me staying would only damage you more. You were young, taking care of yourself and your sister at the age of eighteen. Off what? Tips and a seven-dollar salary? Yes, your parents left you with an insurance fund and you both knew the responsibility behind that money, but I knew me sticking around would mean you needing to take care of a third person. I wouldn’t be that burden,” “That wasn’t for you to decide.” She interrupts me and says, stubbornly might I add, but I ignore it. Because it’s too late. And I have no regrets of walking away. “And regardless of all that, BabyGirl, you knew so much about me that it terrified me. We never even stepped outside of the boundaries for our friendship and I fell in love with you. As an eighteen-year-old, that was a new feeling for me. I’ve never cared so much. So, I ran, Chrissie. I ran from you and told you to run from me because I didn’t know what I was doing. Love has never been in my plans. I was about to start my career, one you know everything about because I have shared it all, one that doesn’t involve loving someone. Despite it all though, it was never my intention to make you miserable,” Her mouths opens to stop me, but I step closer, silencing her again. “You deserve the world, the moon, and everything in between because I know that you’re amazingly innocent and every man dreams of that even if he says differently. You deserve happiness and a family. Love and peace, stability. And more importantly you deserve closure from such a fucked-up man. I know what my actions have done to your heart. Apart of me wondered if you had forgotten about me, but I knew deep down, if I was you……. I wouldn’t be able to. Maybe you’ll forget how I spoke, walked, or even my favorite color. But the person and what I went through? After everything I shared with you; it’ll would be impossible to forget. It’ll be impossible to move on after all that. Why I left? You have it now. I’m sorry and you know I don’t apologize, but it’s what you need.” Seconds, maybe even minutes go by as we stand there, her eyes burning into mines. She’s one of the few people who look me in the eyes and doesn’t look away. Most can’t handle the intensity. While she gets off on it. I can’t handle it, my eyes drift down her body, call it the nigga in me needing to check out what’s happen in my departure, but I have no control of it after a while. I’ve did my fair share of staring throughout the night, but……now it’s different. “That’s sweet. Amazing of you to finally say all those nice things,” It’s an argument. I can feel it. Can hear her before she even starts, and damn, if it’s not a breath of fresh air. “What I don’t want is your pity. You can lie and say all those amazing words about it being about me, but you are pushing me away for your own selfish need. And you finally admitted that. It was done for your own reasoning. You didn’t tell me to run, you told me to leave you alone. Not because it was what’s best for me, but because it was what’s best for you. If you wanted me to move on eventually, you should have told me that. Instead of making me feel like something was wrong with me. Like I’m fucking ugly betty or some shit,” I open my mouth to stop her, but she steps closer to me. So brave as she stops me in my tracks of words. “I would love to believe you, but my heart doesn’t trust it. I don’t trust you past I can see you, I knew who you were becoming and I couldn’t make myself stop caring for you. Hoping you hadn’t died from this dirty game you decided to live by. That says something about me. Something you still haven’t acknowledged. Now that I’m looking back, I don’t even know why I cared about you so much. You only came here for closure, huh? We could’ve done that over that phone, King.” “You know I don’t like phone conversations.” I said for that second time tonight. “Right, because of the headquarters listening.“ Chrissie didn’t even ask, we had these conversations late at night in her dorm room. She remembers and she knows. I couldn’t lie if I needed to. "Chrissie……” “Nah, it’s cool. You have your closure and I’m leaving now. Goodnight, King." "Why?” “Why not? Why should I continue to put myself out there for you to walk over me again Kingston? I know more about you than your own fucking father. I know how much you hate sleeping, yet you love your privacy because you’re able to listen to your favorite music, turn off your problems, and relax. You hate unnecessary noise like televisions, but you love music. You don’t trust anyone to fix your food or cook for you. You love the darkness, you can walk and navigate through it like a fucking ghost. I know about your mother. Your father’s dislike for you comes from a place of not wanting to accept your mother’s death because you look so much like her. At least that what you believe. I know about your ex-best friend how it strained you and Mike’s friendship, but you keep him around because he’s the only person from your childhood that’s still in your corner. And as you can say; ‘you owe it to Mike to keep him around because you want him to know you’ll never kill him for what he knows’. I know that and so much more. And as I stand here now, I know much hasn’t changed." "We both need closure.” I say, not ignoring her words, but not addressing them either. “So, I can move on now? So, you find love finally?” Her voice shaking as she ended that question. “I don’t know.” I said honestly. That was out of my control.

She toys with her nails, walking back towards the entrance of the private dinner. One I totally forgot about in the past five or so minutes. I almost thought the conversation was over until she turned to me and spoke again. "You said you love me? But if you love someone how can you hurt them?“ "I never intended to hurt you, Chrissie. Only protect you from the possible heartache that I know I would cause on you had we did something we both would’ve regretted." Then she was gone.

"I have something for you, Kingston.” Surprisingly New York can spring work on me just as fast as D.C. My plan to pack up and leave the city after the dinner last night; in hopes of peace and happiness in my own personal space was out the window before I could dwell on the idea. Stephen text last night around three in the morning, ignoring everything I had previously sent to him about speak with Dr. Singh. Instead he was informing me on my meeting with at the New York headquarters with their public affairs counsel Nick Powers. What was planned to be discussed on; I wasn’t informed. This wouldn’t be the first time. My first hit under the FBI’s watch wasn’t arranged from Stephen. He does it, knowing I will never disappoint him. We may never see eye-to-eye with one other, but he knows I’m his son and what I do will have a representation on him. His favorite words still until this day is: “You may be in the same profession as them, but don’t get it twisted. You are working twice as hard, if not more, to keep up with these white boys.” So, me being here with no information lets me know one thing. He knows everything. “Nick.” Sitting in the chair at a glass table, made to fit over twenty different men, I favored one closer to the left, yet aligned right in the middle. The door wasn’t no more than four steps away from me. These walls were sound proof. If something happens to me right now; I’ll be the only protection to myself. He’s no boss of mines, owes me no loyalty. If I’m to turn down this favor; he could flip. “You’re good at what you do, Vitale. The best that government has had in a long time. No offense, but even your father had his issues and slip ups as an assassin, but you; you’re numb. That’s the first step to the job. Not to get attached to anyone or anything. You’re exactly what we need for this. New York is full of monsters, and what’s better match for a monster than a man that moves like he’s an armed ghost,” He dropped a stapled file on the table in front of me. The words CONFIDENTIAL stamped across it. “Travis Ryan is a prison escaped murder, he’s supposed to be doing a life sentence. Guards finally allowed him out in the sun one week. Turned their head for a spilt second and he was gone. We know where he is; how he moves,” “So where do I come into play?” I interjected. “I need you to catch him. He’s armed, dangerous, and numb. The perfect match for you. You’ll know his motives. The way he thinks and acts. It’ll be like looking in the mirror." "I’m stationed in New York for this?" "At least until the job is done. Afterwards, you’re free to go back home. Wherever that is." Picking up the case, I stood. The man across from me following my movements. "I hope you don’t think I’m going to get attached to him and fool him into dying. That’s not how I play the game.” “No, I know your rules, Vitale. Like I said never get soft, never get too close. And if you don’t do anything else never get too attached.”

#j. cole ff

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