#frozen mulberries

[lilyblackdrawside]

I looked at what all the liberi operators and Skalter gift for their tokens.

Weapons Gnosis - handmade knife Flint - handmade knife GreyThroat - broken scalpel Kafka - knife in soil May - taser Pinecone - very heavy toolbag with a backup nailgun

Feathers Plume - hat with decorations Silence - feather

Pens Orchid - feels like office-work Astesia - starry Skalter - curved cartilage quill that mutates you

Reading material Hellagur - Ursus war history Ho'olheyak - history Elysium - hand-drawn topographic map La Pluma - Dossoles Guide to Cocktails Erato - notebook with legends and poems Ceylon - notebook on Originium research Ptilopsis - reference book on Originium arts

Instruments Fartooth - wooden piccolo Cantabile - small, disarmed lyre

Wood Magallan - frozen branch Totter - frozen firewood

Snacks Fiammetta - bullet-shaped hazelnut lollipop Poncirus - Poncirus

Wearables Archetto - badge Salter - her old glasses

Clothing Bibeak - a shirt that she made when she first started sewing Kjera - big, warm scarf

Decorations Bryophyta - small, decorative surfboard Astgenne - handmade comet

Money Passenger - coin Snowsant - purse with coins

Trinkets Irene - ochre reef Firewhistle - lighter that she showed you some sweet tricks with Mulberry - charmed amulet with a very slight scent Mr. Nothing - paper fan

Skateboard Aciddrop - skateboard, bandages, disinfectant

The amount of weapons, especially knives, is notable, as are the books. Plume's token is specifically "A formal hat decorated with a modest amount of feathers. It is suitable for all Laterano festivals.". I assume those are plucked from a fowlbeast, but I like to think that they're her own that she's gathered over time.

[quill-pen]

~Bess' recurring dream since childhood~

This is going to pan out in several different posts, as the dream changes as Bess grows older and I map out and navigate those changes. Probably bonus comfort fluff at the end from both George and Ebenezer, because Bess still suffers this nightmare as an adult. (Though the regularity does lessen drastically over time, thanks to Eb and the life Bess has found with him in London.)

Warnings: It's a nightmare involving loneliness, depression, fear, abandonment, mental, emotional, and verbal abuse, maybe some physical abuse. It's not pretty.

Theme:

How it originally started (and always starts):

Bess is in her favorite summer dress, the pretty, cotton, purple gingham one that Maud had made her. It's a bit too big, as the lady's maid had made it a size or two oversized so that she might wear it longer, but Bess doesn't care. It's soft, it's cool, it's purple, and with the way it billows around her as she runs, the little girl feels like she's flying.

She's running towards a group of children skipping around in a circle, singing and laughing. Bess can't wait to join them; she loves to skip, and she's very good at it. As she approaches the circle, it opens up for her and two children reach out on either side of her, pulling her into the fold. They lock hands and go skipping and giggling as they continue to chant: "All around the mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel!"

Bess has never felt happier and she laughs out her joy. She's having fun; these children actually like her! They're not side-eyeing her and making snide remarks. They're not making fun of her or pushing her around or pulling her hair. They're not calling her nasty names or gossiping about her loud enough for her to overhear. They're just playing with her, including her, being nice. It feels so wonderful!

Without warning the sunny, cloudless sky above disappears in a brilliant flash of lightning and thunder peels out. When the sky returns, it is shrouded in dark, frightful storm clouds. A hurricane wind rips through, out of nowhere, and the children scream and cry as they scatter. They run in all opposite directions, leaving Bess alone.

Bess watches after them forlornly. She wants to call out to them and ask them to come back, despite the storm: As she opens her mouth to shout, a deafening noise so loud she can't even hear herself think rumbles across the grassy plain. Bess spins around to see a twister, dark, wide as a house, ripping up the earth as it speeds across it. Terrifying. Bess is frozen with horror.

Lightning flashes again, but this time, rather than thunder, there's a voice. A barking, biting, cruel voice; her mother's. "What makes you think those nice little boys and girls want to play with you?" the voice echoes out. "You're nothing but trouble--a rotten girl, bad, corrupting. You bring bad things everywhere you go!"

Bess feels tears in her eyes, on her cheeks. No! she wants to scream back. No, I'm not! I'm not bad--I'm good! I'm nice! "I just want friends!" she finally manages to voice.

"Nobody wants to be friends with you, stupid girl!"

The twister is closer, almost on top of her, and yet Bess remains frozen. She knows she should run--it's her one chance to save herself--but she literally cannot move! Not even a finger. The little girl opens her mouth to cry out for help, but no sound can be heard. And the next thing Bess knows, she's swallowed up by the spout and lifted into the sky, her mother's voice still howling around her about what a bad girl she is. Bess can only curl into a little ball to cry, her wails drowned out by the storm.

Taglist: @rom-e-o @oldmanlusting @the-house-of-auditore-frye @themostanonymousscribbler @christmasgaybusinessmen @purgratoriat @crimson-phantom-designs @beascrooge @darkflamingfire @vixx-ari @orangewierdo @nightmareg420 @sukiderola @simp2537 @witchypandamonium @amaya501st @b4bynikii @sparklesphobia @tenodai @girlbosseveyhammond @neonshoe

[shriekingpyre]

CRY FOR THE MOON. MAKE IT HOLY, ryn selene

tips / subscribe

[full text below the cut]

there is no god, and we are her prophets. girls against god. mythical promises born from a youthful winter.

moonlit, i kneel before a frozen lake in search of a holy version of myself.

i am only an illusion growing weary. firstborn daughter only in name. blessed with star-like solitude. tangled in a blinding curse. (this is a gift this is a gift this is a gift.)

half-alive, my angel in white appears in her prettiest dress. it’s stained from pomegranates and mulberries. winter refused to grant her wings, lonesome angel sinking below ice.

caught in a self-made horror film, she wails to helpless fates. her blistering screams echo silent and unnoticed.

her past, prewritten for self destruction. no original sins worth gnawing over. i continue to love her anyway.

there is no god, and we are merely girls aching to tear into flesh. girls against god. false myths, false prophecies.

alight with desperation, god came to me as a reflection in blood. she leans in close: ‘find someone else. stop praying to me at dusk. release me from this frostbitten pedestal. i am not the saviour worth reaching towards. sing your lullabies, one day soon this snow globe will crack.’

[ tags: @hauntedwoman @geryone @hangsawoman @kinav ]

[morethansalad]

hi hi, i'm currently homeless and trying to eat more vegan food (or rather, less non-vegan food)-- do you know of anything warm that could conceivably be made in a microwave that isn't largely expensive frozen foods or those red bean and rice packets? my go-to lately has been microwaved scrambled eggs, but i really don't want to rely on animal products. thank you either way 💛

helloo. first of all, if the ethics of veganism are on your mind, honestly, just do your best. veganism is about doing as much as you're practically able to do in your situation. my family and I were homeless for a stretch of time when I was growing up, and it wasn't until that situation was over that I had the liberty (i.e. mental bandwidth) to be so choosy about what I ate (granted, this was before veganism became popular at all. we were "crazy" for being vegetarian already).

but secondly, I would suggest mostly going for canned food, cup noodles & sandwich items. also, oatmeal/porridge if you're into hot cereal. those usually make the most sense to rely on. a canned soup + microwavable rice + your favorite spice blend could, I hope, be a fairly easy go-to in your situation. (rely on complex carbs: rice, bread, beans, oats, pasta, tortillas, and potatoes/sweet potatoes/cassava/etc). and tea is nice for keeping warm and your tummy full when your meals are a little scanty. hydration, in general, is good if you're able to keep on top of.

last thing, if you're able, try to keep incorporating some fresh or dried fruit, veggies, and herbs from time to time. I remember super craving fresh food. your health can really take an impact without it. you could even stop by farmer's markets towards closing hours to get a good deal or shop the produce in stores that are marked down for "imperfections." bananas, leafy greens, tomatoes, raisins, baby carrots, celery, kiwis, parsley, sweet potatoes, frozen berries...get something. ethnic markets tend to have better prices on produce than supermarkets, for the record. foraging is also a way to acquire free food (even if you can't find that much). enough pine needles to make a tea, enough mulberries to make a snack of, or enough dandelion blossoms & leaves to garnish a meal is better than nothing when it comes to getting more nourishment into your body.

best of luck, anon. I hope lots of unexpected sweet times are in store for you💚☺️

[sciatu]

Caldo sudario sciropposo che copre ogni angolo della pelle, sauna a cielo aperto strade sciroccose, soffocose, stordenti allucinate e afose. animali nascosti sotto ogni ombra aria calda che danza sull’asfalto bollente, creando a mezz’aria miraggi sahariani. Il sole è un martello infuocato il canto ossessivo delle cicale i suoi colpi impietosi. Estate siciliana: aria di fuoco deserto nei campi e nelle strade, follia nella testa Cielo come volta di un forno cardi rinsecchiti, felci arrugginite erba gialla come l’invidia limoni di cupo verde ulivi impassibili di glauco verde finchè non reagisco per disperazione: granita di caffè con montagna di panna granita salvifica al limone, granita dolcissima alle mandorle all’amato pistacchio alle more, al sublime gelso alle fragole, alla pesca, al cioccolato ma non alla menta, gusto volgare, continentale. Oppure gelato alla crema, nocciola, limone, zuppa inglese cioccolato, crema, liquirizia, gusto santo e dovuto di cassata mandorla, fragola, pesca, fiordilatte regale stracciatella, sensuale mango ma non menta, banale, continentale. Magari seltz, limone e sale o acqua tonica e granita al limone caffè caldo con granita al caffè, lasciva panna! Gelo al limone, al melone vino freddo gelato, grillo, inzolia, malvasia in un bicchiere appannato dall’afa e affanculo prosecco e daiquiri affanculo l’estate, l’afa, il caldo mi basta una birra Messina gelata un bagnasciuga infinito e tutto il resto, i l mondo, l’universo è solo il sogno di un folle una fiaba ridicola scritta su un rotolo di carta igienica.

Warm, syrupy shroud that covers every corner of the skin, open-air sauna, sirocco roads, suffocating, hallucinated and sultry stuns, animals hidden under every shadow, hot air dancing on the boiling asphalt, creating Saharan mirages in mid-air. The sun is a fiery hammer, the obsessive song of the cicadas its pitiless blows. Sicilian summer: air of fire, desert in the fields and streets, madness in the head. Sky like the vault of an oven, withered thistles, rusty ferns, yellow grass like envy, dark green lemons, impassive sea-green olive trees. until I don't react out of desperation: coffee granita with mountain of cream, saving lemon granita, very sweet almond granita to the beloved pistachio with blackberries, to the sublime mulberry with strawberries, peach, chocolate, but not mint, vulgar, continental taste. Or cream ice cream, hazelnut, lemon, trifle, chocolate, cream, licorice, holy and due taste of cassata, almond, strawberry, peach, fiordilatte, royal stracciatella, sensual mango, but not mint, banal, continental. Maybe seltzer, lemon and salt, or tonic water and lemon granita, hot coffee with coffee granita, lascivious cream! Gelo with lemon, melon, ice cold wine, grillo, inzolia, malvasia in a glass misted by the heat, and fuck prosecco and daiquiri, fuck the summer, the heat, the heat, a frozen Messina beer is enough for me an infinite shoreline, and all the rest, the world, the universe, is just a madman's dream, a ridiculous fairy tale, written on a roll of toilet paper

[dreadfutures]

i feel like berries of some kind would be an innocent promise. Like mulberries, maybe because they don't have thorns and they're one of the first wild fruits kids can easily recognise and forage safely?

For @dadrunkwriting : Kieran & Mahariel & Morrigan

Words: 973

this berry prompt is bringing me so much inspiration it might be all i think about tonight

started this on the bus home

-:-:-

When Kieran first leaves the eluvian--really leaves, not just to sleep in his father's bed in cold, defensible, Vigil's Keep--he is overcome by the sheer tumult of life around him.

The between-worlds waking dream his mother had found in her eluvian had been a dead husk, an empty shell or a frozen reflection of the living world. There is no wind in his family's refuge; no insects buzz in the privacy of their leaves and the small worlds hidden in tree bark; no small creatures roam and rustle on their own inscrutable journeys. He has never known to miss their absence until this moment.

He knew it had been nighttime when his family began their journey out of the eluvian; his father had mentioned it as being past Kieran's bedtime when they set out. Kieran had desperately wanted to stay awake as Morrigan led the way through a network neither Halevune nor Kieran had known was alive, but indeed Halevune had taken Kieran up onto his back to let the boy sleep as the trek drew on and on.

A shift in the air had woken him up at last. It was still dark, and as he rubbed sleep from his eyes he had not known how much time or distance had passed while he slept. Through a corridor of hewn stone, Morrigan led them with certain steps, until the cold air grew more temperate, and the walls gave way to life.

Trees. Creatures. A breeze.

Kieran sits up, and his father swings him around to balance on his hip. The day will come when Kieran is too large for it to be a comfortable resting place for either of them, but for now, Kieran fists one hand in Halevune's quilted jacket to steady himself as he looks around.

The three of them stand at the mouth of the cave for a while, silent, drinking in the sounds of the forest around them. Halevune tilts his head back, eyes closed, nostrils flared as he filled his lungs with an incense of a season on the cusp of change.

"This is the land that shaped your father and I," says Morrigan, always the sharpest of Kieran's two prickly parents. She has never been content with staying still, and while Kieran knows their home through the eluvian has, yes, become home to her over the years, he knows she has longed for movement.

Thinking now of how she would spend hours flying in loops and circles in their magic haven, he stretches one arm with his fingers spread wide to touch the currents of air. It's an instinct, this knowledge: their safety all this time had come at the cost of the free, Fereldan air.

It blows his mother's fringe into her owl-like eyes, and then dances in her skirts as she takes the first step forward.

Halevune sets Kieran down, but it is as though he can sense how his son is pulled in a thousand directions, overwhelmed by the novel onslaught; he takes Kieran’s hand entirely into his and gives it a grounding squeeze.

As much as this teeming, thriving world seemed so different—there were some things that were the same: the feeling of his father’s callouses. The glint of his mother’s sharp-toothed smile, softening for them both when she thinks Halevune isn’t looking.

Anchored by his father’s strength at his side, led along by his mother’s sure path, Kieran lets his attention wander. His ears, round like his mother’s, drink in all the sounds he can. They come from all sides, and he knows in his heart there are more living things in this wide new world than he may ever be able to learn of. And yet he wishes to. He wants to know what whistles through the branches in a sudden burst of wings. He wants to know, intimately, what skitters away as he steps on the leaves and twigs that rot on the forest floor. He wants to know, understand—he wants to belong to this world of motion.

His parents confer with their eyes, decide on a course, and later, a campsite. They do not make Kieran aid them yet, but he watches them with the intent to learn. This, too, is a world he wants to be a part of: one of camaraderie, teamwork, companionship. His mother and his father work together on some tasks, and separately on others, to prepare this space for rest and protection in the days to come. They are familiar with these tasks and with how they are divided between two people—and specifically, between one another.

As the world grows brighter, their work changes.

“Come back to me,” Halevune says, but Morrigan instead strays to the edge of camp. She throws a cloth satchel and a weighty look over her shoulder at them, and responds:

“In my own time.”

She departs, and Halevune begins tying various pieces of rope into small loops. Snares, as Kieran will one day learn. Kieran watches, but he is preoccupied by that strange exchange of words. They have sent his thoughts into chaotic spirals, questions and ideas circling like the sounds teeming all around him, and he can’t quite hone in on any one thing before it flits away.

When Morrigan returns, her satchel full of fat, dark berries and long, pale roots, Halevune leaves with his ropes and knife. They pass one another, and Morrigan smirks.

“I returned,” she drawls.

“So shall I,” Halevune states.

Even apart, his mother and father are working in tandem to sustain their family, Kieran realizes. And among all the things he learns on this first venture into the wilderness, one thing remains with him all his life:

In the vast, unknowable, and impartial world, a promise is a vital anchor to keep one from being swept away.

[locatislunaticolupin]

Day Two: Cat

Written for day two of @remadoramicrofics. 785 words. Also available on Ao3.

Teddy had learned how to stand by clinging to the fur of their long-suffering probably-mix-with-a-German shepherd Tammuz, who also took on the job of teaching him how to walk, stepping carefully and barely wincing at the little hands tugging on his hair or the little feet stepping on his paws. Once, when Remus and Dora had been cuddled up on the sofa, hands intertwined, Remus' face in her hair and muscles at the ready in case Teddy slipped or Tammuz shook him off, Dora had made the obvious joke and, having caught him unawares, got a belly laugh out of him.

Teddy and the dogs played together, slept together and, much to Remus' dismay, jumped into every puddle and muddy surface they came across together. He was often covered in dog hair and slobber, and dogs in the village approached him to sniff or growl at him. Teddy did it back to them, which resulted in endless teasing from Dora ("that's all you, that's your son"). Remus laughed and chuckled and playfully pushed her towards a trough or swung Teddy between them, happiness prickling his eyes, squeezing his chest.

(His friends had been like that, too. A joke, a wink and a laugh, a furry little problem or the moon making him go a little loony. Dora made him feel fifteen again, made him reckless and loving. She also made him feel the laugh lines, the crow's feet, the delight in knowing they were there because he'd been happy and was happy now and that, if James and Sirius and Peter couldn't have them, had died too young, too troubled, he at least could keep their memory alive in this happiness engraved on his body, in the mischief and love he found in Dora and Teddy).

One day, after a storm much like the one that had led Tammuz and his sister to the cottage, they found a family of cats that had made the shed their home. The mom had been feeding her kittens when they moved the rake and she had hissed at them, looking exhausted but ferocious. Remus had frozen and Dora, who had spent the night pouring over files of a recent case and was running on coffee and her husband's goodwill, had hissed right back at her. They took the rake and the stairs and didn't take the gardening gloves the cat had made her nest on, and left her to it with a charm to keep the dogs away.

It was nearing noon, the sun on their backs and Teddy raiding the fig and mulberry trees, trying to find a fruit the parrots or the rain hadn't gotten to yet, when Remus brought it up.

"You hissed."

"Of course I did, was I supposed to let her get away with it?"

Remus chuckled, Dora faked offense and Teddy shook the branch he had a hold on, raining mulberries on them.

They forgot about the cats until it started nearing sundown and the wind began to pick up, howling through the trees. The cottage creaked around them, all doors having already been slammed, and they stood close to the hearth, a brilliant fire snapping and sputtering, snip-snap-whoosh, as if defying the wind outside. Teddy, Tammuz at his back, seemed hypnotized by it, so Remus crouched next to him, big hand on littlest back, to make sure he wouldn’t get too close. Dora, with their probably-mix-with-Greyhound Bongui (neé Bongo) at her feet, kept looking up from the files on the living room table and towards the windows, through the shutters.

Remus’ soft “Dora?” got her out of her seat, wand in hand and out the door, Bongui on her heels. His first instinct was to follow them, but Teddy’s “mama?” stopped him, had him feeling for his wand. He kept his hand on Teddy’s back, looking out the black hole of their door. Tammuz had stayed too, and Remus was glad for his loyalty. He jumped when he heard clatter —that had come from the shed, hadn't it?— and was about to Apparate when he saw Dora running back, a bundle in her arms that Bongui kept trying to get to and words she should definitely not be teaching Teddy echoing in her steps. This time he did get up and lead her inside, closed the shutters against the wind before turning towards her. Bongui was circling her, excited about their adventure. Remus held her back when she jumped and, from Dora’s arms, mama cat, cozy on their gardening gloves, hissed and growled and spitted at her and at them, her nails and her kittens’ destroying Dora’s sweater.

Close to the fire, Teddy hissed back at her.

[darry-rules]

laughing Jack

It was a nice summer day, my 5-year-old son James was playing outside in the backyard of our suburban home. James has always been a quiet boy, he plays by himself mostly, he never had many friends, but he has always had a wild imagination. I was in the kitchen feeding our dog Fido, when I heard what sounded like James talking to someone in the backyard. I’m not sure who it was he could be talking to, could he have finally made a friend? Being a single mom it’s hard for me to always keep an eye on my son, so I decided to go outside and check on him.

When I went into the backyard I was a bit confused, because James was the only person back there. Was he talking to himself? I could have sworn I heard another voice. “James! It’s time to come inside.” I called out to him. He came inside and sat down at the kitchen table, it was about lunchtime so I decided to make him a turkey sandwich. “James. Who were you talking to out there?” I asked. James looked up for a moment, “I was playing with my new friend,” he said smiling. I poured him some milk and continued to pry, as any good mother would. “Does your friend have a name? Why didn’t you ask him to have lunch with us?” I asked. James stared at me for a moment before replying, “His name is Laughing Jack.” I was a bit taken back by what he had said. “Oh? That’s a strange name. What does your friend look like?” I asked a bit confused. “He’s a clown. He has long hair and a big swirly cone nose. He’s got long arms and baggy pants, with stripy socks, and he always smiles.” I realized my son was talking about an imaginary friend. I suppose it is normal for kids his age to have imaginary friends, especially when he has no real kids to play with. It’s probably just a phase.

The rest of the day went by as per usual, and it was starting to get late so I put James to bed. I tucked him in, gave him a kiss, and made sure to turn on his nightlight before I closed the door. I was pretty tired myself so I decided to go to bed not long after. I had an awful nightmare…

It was dark. I was in some kind of rundown amusement park. I was scared, running through an endless field of empty tents, broken down rides, and abandoned game huts. The whole place had a horrible look to it. Everything was black and white, the prize stuffed animals all hung from nooses in the game huts, all with sick grins stitched on their faces. It felt like the whole park was looking at me, even though there wasn’t another living thing in sight. Then suddenly, I began to hear music play. The sounds of Pop Goes the Weasel being played on a squeezebox echoed through the park, it was hypnotizing. I followed its tune to the circus tent almost in a trance, unable to stop my legs from moving forward. It was pitch black, the only light came from a single spotlight shining on the center of the big top. As I walked toward the light the music slowed down, I found myself singing along unable to stop.

“All around the mulberry bush

The monkey chased the weasel

The monkey though twas all in fun…”

The music stopped right before its climax, and suddenly the lights shot on. The intensity of the lights was practically blinding, all I could see was a small dark silhouette shuffle towards me. Then another one appeared, and another, and another. There were dozens of them, all coming toward me. I couldn’t move, my legs were frozen, all I could do was watch as the haunting figures drew nearer. As they got closer I could see… THEY WERE CHILDREN! As I looked at each one I noticed they were all horribly disfigured and mutilated. Some had cuts all over their body, others were severely burnt, and others were missing limbs, even eyes! The children enveloped me, clawing at my flesh, dragging me to the ground, and tearing inside me. As the children tore me apart and I faded away, all I could hear was laughter, horrible, awful, evil, laughter.

I woke up the next morning in a cold sweat. After taking a few deep breaths I looked over and saw that a few of James’ action figures were positioned facing me on top of my nightstand. I sighed, James had probably woken up early and put these here. I gathered up the toys and made my way to James’ room, however when I opened the door James was sound asleep. I just shrugged and placed the toys back into his toy box, and headed out to the living room. A little while later James woke up and I made him his breakfast. He was quiet and seemed a bit groggy, perhaps he didn’t sleep well either. I decided to ask him about the toys, “James honey, did you put the toys in mommy’s room this morning?” His eyes shot up at me for a moment then quickly glanced back down at his cereal. “Laughing Jack did it.” I rolled my eyes and responded, “Well you tell ‘Laughing Jack’ to keep the toys in your room.” James nodded and finished up his breakfast, then decided to go play out in the back yard.

I went to relax in the living room and I must have dozed off, because I woke up a couple hours later. “Shit! I need to check on James.” I was a bit worried, it had been over 2 hours and I haven’t checked on him. I went stepped out into the backyard, but James wasn’t there anymore. I was getting nervous so I called out to him, “JAMES! JAMES WHERE ARE YOU?!” Just then I heard a giggle come from the front yard. I rushed through the gate around to the front of the house. James was sitting on the sidewalk. I breathed a sigh of relief and walked over to him, “James how many times have I told you to stay in the backya… James, what are you eating?” James looked up at me then reached into his pocket and pulled out a hand full of hard candies in all colors. This made me very nervous, “James, who gave you that candy?” James just stared at me not speaking. “JAMES! Please, tell mommy where you got that candy.” James hung his head down and said “Laughing Jack gave it to me.” My heart sunk, I kneeled down to look him in the eye, “ James I’ve had had enough of this damn Laughing Jack thing, HE IS NOT REAL! Now this is a very serious situation and I need to know who gave you the candy!” I could see my son’s eyes tear up, “But mama, Laughing Jack DID give me the candy.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, James has never lied to me but what he’s telling me is impossible. I make him spit out the candy and I throw the rest away, James appears to be fine. Maybe I’m just overreacting after all he could have gotten it from Tom and Linda from next door, or Mr. Walker down the street. Either way I’m going to have to keep a closer eye on James. That night I put James to bed as usual, and decided to go to bed early myself.

Suddenly I was woken up by a loud bang coming from the kitchen. I sprung out of bed and hurried down the stairs. When I got to the kitchen I was horrified. Every thing on the counters had been thrown on the floor, and our dog Fido hung dead from the light fixture. His stomach was cut open and stuffed with candy, the same type that James was eating earlier that day. My shock was quickly broken by a sharp scream coming from James’ room followed by loud crashes. I quickly grabbed a knife from the drawer and moved up the stairs with the speed that only a mother whose child is in danger could have. I burst through the door and flicked on the lights. Everything in the room was knocked over and tossed on the floor, my poor son in his bed crying and shaking with fear, a pool of urine staining the sheets. I scooped my child up and ran out of the house and went next door to Tom and Linda’s house, Luckily they were still awake. They let me use their phone and I called the police. It didn’t take them long to arrive, and I explained what had happened, they looked at me as if I were crazy. They searched the house, but all they found was a dead dog and 2 trashed rooms. The officer told me that someone had probably gotten into the house and done this right before making a quick escape when they heard me coming up the stairs. I knew it wasn’t true. All the doors were locked and none of the windows were open, whatever was in my house didn’t come from outside.

The next day James stayed inside, I didn’t want him to leave my sight. I went into the garage and found his old baby monitor and set it up in his room, if anything comes into his room tonight, I was going to be able to hear it. I went to the kitchen and grabbed the largest knife from the drawer and put it on my nightstand. Imaginary friend or not, I’m not letting anything hurt my little boy.

Soon enough night came. I put James to bed, he was afraid, but I promised him that I wasn’t going to let anything happen to him. I tucked him in, gave him a kiss, and turned on the nightlight. Before closing the door I whispered to him “Goodnight James, I love you.”

I tried to stay up as long as I could, but after a few hours I felt myself drifting off. My baby would be safe for the night and I needed to sleep. Just as I lay my head on the pillow I heard a soft noise come form the baby monitor I had put on my nightstand. At first it sounded like interference, like the kind a radio would make. Then it turned into a soft moan. Was James asleep? Then I heard it, the laugh from my nightmare, that horrible laugh. I sprung up from bed and grabbed the knife from under my pillow. I rushed over to James’ room and creaked the door open. I tried the light switch but it wouldn’t come on. I took a step in and I could feel the warm thick liquid on my feet. Suddenly James’ nightlight came on and I could see the absolute horror laid out in front of me.

James’ body was nailed up on the wall, the nails piercing through his hands and feet. His chest was cut wide open and his organs hung down to the floor. His eyes and tongue had been removed along with most of his teeth. I was disgusted, I could hardly believe this was my baby boy. Then I heard it again, the soft desperate moan. JAMES WAS STILL ALIVE! My baby, my poor baby, in so much pain barely clinging to life. I ran across the room and vomited on the floor, but my sickness was interrupted by a horrible cackle coming from behind me. I spun around while still wiping bile from my mouth, then out of the shadows emerged the fiend responsible for all this horror, Laughing Jack. His ghost white skin and matted black hair hung down to his shoulders. He had piercing white eyes surrounded by dark black rings. His twisted smile revealed a row of sharp jagged teeth, and his skin didn’t look like skin at all, it almost looked like rubber or plastic. He wore a patchy, black and white clown outfit with striped sleeved and socks. His body itself was grotesque, his long arms hanging down past his waist and the way he was poised made him look almost boneless, like a ragdoll. He let out a sickening laugh as if to let me know he was pleased with my reaction to his ‘work’. He then turned around slowly in front of James and began to laugh even more at the horrific sight he has laid out. That was enough to shake me from my terror, I snapped, “GET AWAY FROM HIM YOU BASTARD!” I rushed at the monster raising the knife above my head, and stabbed down at him, but as soon as the knife touched him he disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. The knife passed right through and pierced James’ still beating heart, splashing the warm blood on my face….

No… what have I done? My baby, I killed my baby! I immediately fell to my knees, and I could hear sirens in the distance growing louder… My boy, my sweet baby boy… I promised mommy would protect you… But I failed… I’m sorry James… I’m so sorry…

Police soon arrived to find me in front of my son, still wielding the knife covered in my baby’s blood. The trial was short, insanity. I was placed in the Phiropoulos House for the Criminally Insane, where I have been for the past 2 months. Its not so bad here, the only reason I’m awake now is because someone is playing Pop Goes the Weasel outside my window… I’ll talk to the orderlies about it in the morning…

[ceruleanmindpalace]

I am on harvesting duty at the moment. Picket the first batch of mulberries yesterday and prepared some of them to go into the dehydrator. Never tried to dry them but I hope they will be good in muesli. Another kilo will be pureed and frozen.

Also, a lot of peas harvested a bit too late, will eat them raw for dinner, I guess. Also, I picked an entire bucket of green beans, which I will blanch and then freeze for later.

Can't eat all that is ready currently as fast as it ripens.

[ourrecipebook]

5 Ingredient Berry Protein Açai Bowl

Serving: 1

Ingredients

1 pulp packet açai

1 small banana (or ½ large)

½ cup frozen mixed berries

¼ cup milk or milk alternative

½ scoop vanilla protein powder

Directions

Add açai and frozen berries to mixer first and blend.

Next add in the rest of the ingredients including the fresh banana, milk, and protein powder. If you are using any adaptogens, you can also add those in at this time.

Blend until well mixed, then top with your favorite ingredients and enjoy!

Notes

For toppings I like to use dried mulberries, hemp seeds, flax seed, chia seeds, coconut shreds, almond butter, fresh blueberries, cacao nibs, banana slices, and bee pollen to name a few you can try.

Açai bowls are best enjoyed the day they are made. You can store them in a closed container in the freezer for up to 2 weeks, but they will need to be slightly defrosted before eating as they will be very frozen. Alternatively, the frozen açai can also be added to a blender to make it smooth again vs. defrosting slightly.

(Source)

[bluelilylilyblwe]

blog post 4/14/2024 hands have been experiencing sudden slight unexplainable tremors periodically for the past 2 weeks, have also started taking supplement gummies, homesickness for the southeast has been hitting like a truck eight years late. Remembering boiled peanuts and oak trees and evergreens and mulberries and a city with trains, the library where i borrowed peanuts comics from, the frozen yogurt shops everywhere that all went out of business, the creeks and the gardens and the boardwalk and the cathedral and the big mall, and especially the feeling of living somewhere and never having lived somewhere else. To blend into a place, to be a part of it without thinking, to stay somewhere and for it not to feel like waiting eight years at the station for the train to come and take you somewhere else. Been thinking about how I don't really have a hometown. Hmm

[ladyb-exclusive]

Fallen Angel

Blackberry/Mulberry Float

Ingredients:

Frozen Mulberries or Blackberries

2 oz Pomegranate Juice

1/4 Lime

Cherry-Lime Soda

Vanilla Ice Cream

Directions:

Fill glass 1/3rd with berries. Mash slightly. Add juice and a squeeze of lime and top with soda. Finish with a scoop of ice cream.

[ruhaiiljohnson112]

Savor the Moment: ايسكريم توت and كماليات Perfection

Introduction:

Savoring the moment is a concept that transcends cultural boundaries. Whether you're in the bustling streets of New York City or the serene corners of Cairo, there's something universally delightful about indulging in a sweet treat like ايسكريم توت (Ice Cream Toot). This delectable frozen dessert has not only captured the hearts of those who appreciate its unique flavors but also exemplifies the idea of perfection in كماليات (perfection). In this blog post, we'll dive into the world of "ايسكريم توت" and explore the concept of perfection in كماليات through this delightful treat.

ايسكريم توت: A Taste of Pure Delight "ايسكريم توت" or Ice Cream Toot is a frozen dessert that hails from the heart of the Middle East. It's known for its lusciously smooth and creamy texture, created by blending milk, cream, sugar, and fruit flavors, most notably the delicious taste of mulberries. This unique flavor has a way of transporting you to a world of pure delight with every spoonful.

The Perfection of Flavor: What sets "ايسكريم توت" apart is the attention to detail and the pursuit of perfection in flavor. The mulberry flavor is not only sweet and satisfying but also carefully balanced. It strikes the perfect harmony between sweetness and tartness, creating a symphony of taste that leaves your palate craving for more. The dedication to achieving this level of perfection is a testament to the culinary excellence of the region.

كماليات (Perfection) in Every Scoop: Perfection, or كماليات, is a concept deeply embedded in Middle Eastern culture. It reflects a commitment to excellence and the continuous pursuit of improvement in all aspects of life. "ايسكريم توت" embodies this concept through its meticulous preparation. From the selection of the finest ingredients to the artful blending of flavors and the precise freezing process, every step is undertaken with the utmost care and dedication.

The Presentation: In Middle Eastern culture, كماليات extends to the presentation of food, and "ايسكريم توت" is no exception. The dessert is often served in ornate dishes or cups, garnished with a sprinkling of chopped pistachios or rose petals, and sometimes accompanied by a drizzle of fragrant honey. This level of detail in presentation adds an extra layer of sensory delight to the experience.

Savoring the Moment: Savoring the moment goes beyond just enjoying a delicious dessert; it's about appreciating the culture, history, and tradition that brought it to your plate. When you indulge in a scoop of "ايسكريم توت," you're immersing yourself in the rich tapestry of Middle Eastern culinary heritage and the pursuit of perfection in كماليات.

Conclusion:

In the world of frozen desserts, "ايسكريم توت" stands out as a true masterpiece that encapsulates the essence of كماليات, or perfection, in culinary art. Its careful craftsmanship, exquisite flavor, and artful presentation make it a delightful experience that transcends borders and cultures. So, the next time you savor a scoop of "ايسكريم توت," take a moment to appreciate the journey of perfection that brought this sweet treat to your lips.

[muses-morii]

@bloodbondcd asked: MULBERRY . a starter in which one or both muses are sad. ( @ vanitas from riku )

~ Vanitas ~

The paper blurred.

The rough marks on it turning into black smudges.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Vanitas adjusted his grip on the pencil, gave his head a shake and bent over the paper. Written on it, in his broken scrawl were the letters A, B, C, D, and E, along with their smaller counterparts. He knew he was holding the pencil wrong, but he couldn't remember how Riku had said to hold it.

He couldn't remember which fingers it was supposed to sit between, so he was holding it in his fist and doing his best to write the alphabet down. But fuck, it was frustrating. What was even the point anyway? Writing was overrated. So was reading. He didn't even want to do it. Gradually, an F appeared on the paper, the lines hard. He knew G came next. G was a hard letter to make. It was like a C, but with extra parts. Who thought that was a good idea? This was stupid. What was he ever going to write down? What was he ever going to read? Master Xehanort had always said he didn't need to know. He was nothing more than a weapon, a tool made to be used and weapons didn't need to know how to read and write. So overrated. The paper blurred and the letters turned into black smudges. Wetness dripped onto the paper and making irritated noise, Vanitas tossed the pencil angrily across his desk. Leaning back in his chair, he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and grit his teeth. This was really, fucking stupid. Why was he even bothering? He could be training! Master Xehanort would've beat his ass for such time wasting!

He could be getting better! Faster! Stronger! He could be- what? Trying to form the X-blade? Wreaking havoc in some world somewhere? Beating up Ventus? Vanitas' hands dropped limply into his lap. He could be getting punished. He could be getting hurt. He could be alone in the Graveyard. He could be dead in a canyon somewhere, forgotten and turning to dust. Propping an elbow up on the desk, he covered his mouth with his hand, yellow eyes glassy as they stared up at the ceiling. There was a thick feeling in his throat, like a hand was choking him and heavy feeling in his stomach. The anger in his chest ached. He was angry at Master Xehanort. He was angry at Ventus. He was angry at Riku. He was angry at them all.

He was angry at Master Xehanort for giving up. He was angry at Ventus for showing him mercy. He was angry Riku for daring to show him letters! He was angry at all of them for existing! What right did they have to live their lives while he'd been destroyed over and over again!? Vanitas' lips pressed together as they trembled and tears ran down his face. He clutched at the side of his head, the anger in his chest pulsing! Pulsing! He was so mad! His rage was ripping through his body so strong that he buried his face in his hands, choking on it.

Gagging on his fury.

Drowning in his sadness.

Sadness that had no where else to go, for a very long time. The sadness spread out from his chest, down through his core and to his feet. It went down his arms, and shook his hands. It was an intense feeling; suffocating him with its heaviness. He missed Master Xehanort. He missed the Graveyard. He missed... He missed something he'd never had. Why did they all get to live lives? Why did they get happy endings? Why did they get friends and comrades? Why? He didn't care! He didn't need those things! He was fine! Just fine!

He was fine.

There was a knock on his door and with misery on his face, Vanitas looked over towards it, frozen, trembling in the desk chair. He heard his name called and another knock on the door. Go away... Go away!

“Go...” He croaked, his voice lost in his mouth. Lost in the tears choking him. Arms wrapping around his middle, Vanitas looked up toward the ceiling, mouth open as he tried to speak again. “...Go!” It was quiet, too quiet. “Go away!” He couldn't talk. He could barely make a noise. Lifting a hand to his mouth, he bit at his knuckles, drawing blood and squeezing his eyes shut. He focused on the pain. The familiar sting of an injury. His other hand dug into his side and he leaned forward, down towards the desk. He was angry! He was angry! He was angry!

So why was he weeping? Why couldn't he speak? Why was he longing for something just out of his reach? Blood ran down his hand and Vanitas smacked it down on the desktop, leaving a red smear across his paper with letters. The knock was louder this time, more of a bang on the door and another call of his name. What was he supposed to do? How did this go away? In the Graveyard he just howled until it was gone. Until the tears were swept away by the vicious, dry winds. He had no one and nothing. He was alone. Not even Master Xehanort would look at him when the tears came. He was weak. He was weak.

He was, sad.

The door opened.

How pathetic. Vanitas' hands fell into his lap, one a mess from his teeth. Sitting in his chair, at a desk with a broken pencil and a bloody sheet of paper with letters scrawled on it. Tears dripped down his cheeks, falling from red rimmed, yellow eyes.

And he looked at Riku.

[businesspr]

Sustainable Practices in Mulberry Farming

Mulberry Market, a term that resonates with both tradition and modernity, is much more than just a collection of sweet, juicy berries. It's a thriving industry with a rich history, and it's poised for a fruitful future. In this comprehensive article, we delve deep into the Mulberry Market, exploring its origins, current trends, economic significance, and the myriad opportunities it offers. Whether you're a seasoned investor or simply curious about the world of berries, join us as we embark on this juicy journey through the Mulberry Market.

Request Sample Report: https://marketresearch.biz/report/mulberry-market/request-sample/

Mulberry Market: A Brief Overview

Mulberries, those delightful little bursts of sweetness, have been a part of human cultivation for centuries. They belong to the Morus genus and are known for their distinctive flavor and nutritional benefits. Mulberries come in various colors, with red and white varieties being the most common.

Key Market Segments

By Product Type

Handbags

Small Leather Goods

Ready-to-Wear

Shoes

By Distribution Channel

Retail Stores

E-commerce Platforms

Travel Retail

Online Marketplaces

By Form

Fruit

Raw/Fresh

Processed

Frozen/Chilled

Canned

Dehydrated

Companies - Industry Segment Outlook

ASML

Bolt Threads

Novartis

Silk Road Holdings

Body Shop

Sunrise Agriland Development & Research Pvt. Ltd.

BATA FOOD

DÖHLER

Top Line Foods

Peony Food Products

Yaban Food

Ken Muir Ltd

NAVITAS ORGANICS

Sevenhills Wholefoods

Nans Products

Xian Yuensun Biological Technology Co. Ltd.

ETChem

Other

The Historical Roots of Mulberry Cultivation

Mulberries have a storied history, with their cultivation dating back to ancient civilizations. In this section, we explore how Mulberry Market's roots trace back to:

1. Ancient China: The Cradle of Mulberry Cultivation

In ancient China, mulberries were revered not only for their delicious taste but also for their role in silkworm rearing. The mulberry leaves served as the primary food source for silkworms, a crucial step in silk production.

2. The Silk Road Connection

The Silk Road facilitated the exchange of goods and cultures across continents. Mulberries found their way to Europe along this ancient trade route, introducing the fruit to new regions.

3. Renaissance Europe: The Mulberry Craze

In Renaissance Europe, mulberries gained popularity among royalty and the aristocracy. King James I of England even attempted to promote mulberry cultivation to support the silk industry.

The Mulberry Market Today

Fast forward to the present day, and Mulberry Market has evolved into a diverse and dynamic industry. Let's explore its current landscape, including:

4. Mulberries as Superfoods

Mulberries have made a resurgence as superfoods, packed with vitamins, antioxidants, and fiber. Their health benefits have propelled them into the spotlight of the wellness industry.

5. Commercial Mulberry Farming

Commercial cultivation of mulberries has seen remarkable growth, with dedicated farms catering to both fresh fruit and processing industries.

6. Mulberry Products Galore

The market now boasts a plethora of mulberry-based products, from jams and wines to skincare items, capitalizing on the fruit's versatility.

Economic Significance of the Mulberry Market

The Mulberry Market isn't just about delicious berries; it's a robust economic player. Here's why it matters:

7. Employment Opportunities

Mulberry cultivation and processing provide employment opportunities in both rural and urban areas, contributing to livelihoods worldwide.

8. Export Potential

Mulberry products, particularly silk and textiles, have significant export potential, boosting international trade.

9. Supporting Sericulture

The silk industry heavily relies on mulberry leaves, emphasizing the interconnectedness of these markets.

Purchase Report: https://marketresearch.biz/purchase-report/?report_id=4962

Challenges and Innovations

Like any industry, the Mulberry Market faces its share of challenges. However, innovation is key to overcoming them:

10. Pests and Diseases

Mulberry trees are susceptible to pests and diseases. Research and development in pest management are crucial for sustainable farming.

11. Sustainable Farming Practices

The shift towards sustainable farming practices, such as organic mulberry cultivation, is gaining momentum.

12. Biotechnology and Crop Improvement

Advancements in biotechnology offer promising solutions, including disease-resistant mulberry varieties.

Mulberry Market Trends: What's Hot and What's Not

To stay ahead in the Mulberry Market, it's essential to keep an eye on emerging trends:

13. Mulberries in Functional Foods

Mulberries are finding their way into functional foods, including protein bars and supplements, catering to health-conscious consumers.

14. Mulberry Varietal Exploration

Exploration of different mulberry varieties is creating opportunities for unique flavor profiles and culinary experiences.

15. Sustainable Packaging

Sustainability is at the forefront, with eco-friendly packaging solutions gaining traction.

Investment Opportunities

Are you considering investing in the Mulberry Market? Here's what you need to know:

16. High ROI Potential

Investors are drawn to the Mulberry Market's high return on investment, particularly in silk production and value-added products.

17. Diversification Benefits

Diversifying your portfolio with Mulberry Market investments can help mitigate risks associated with other industries.

18. Market Analysis Tools

Utilize market analysis tools to identify growth areas and make informed investment decisions.

Mulberry Market Around the Globe

The Mulberry Market isn't confined to a single region. Let's explore its global presence:

19. Asia: The Mulberry Hub

Asia, particularly China and India, remains at the forefront of mulberry cultivation and silk production.

20. Europe: A Growing Market

Europe is experiencing a resurgence in mulberry cultivation, driven by health-conscious consumers.

21. North America: Exploring New Frontiers

Mulberry farming is gaining ground in North America, presenting exciting opportunities for growers.

Report Enquiry Link: https://marketresearch.biz/report/mulberry-market/#inquiry

FAQs About the Mulberry Market

Q: Are mulberries only used for consumption?

A: No, mulberries have diverse applications, including textiles, cosmetics, and even medicinal uses.

Q: What is the nutritional value of mulberries?

A: Mulberries are rich in vitamins, antioxidants, and fiber, making them a nutritious choice.

Q: How can I invest in the Mulberry Market?

A: You can explore investment options such as mulberry farms, silk production, or mulberry-based product manufacturing.

Q: Is organic mulberry farming a sustainable practice?

A: Yes, organic mulberry farming focuses on sustainability and environmental stewardship.

Q: What are some emerging trends in the Mulberry Market?

A: Emerging trends include mulberries in functional foods, sustainable packaging, and varietal exploration.

Q: Which countries are the largest players in the Mulberry Market?

A: China, India, and several European countries are significant contributors to the Mulberry Market.

The Mulberry Market is a captivating blend of tradition and innovation, offering a bounty of opportunities. Whether you're a consumer seeking nutritional benefits, an investor looking for high returns, or simply someone intrigued by the world of mulberries, this market has something sweet for everyone. As we continue to explore the evolving landscape of the Mulberry Market, remember that its roots run deep, and its future is ripe with potential. So, let's savor the journey through the delicious, lucrative world of Mulberry Market.

Explore More Reports From Our Trusted Media:

Menstrual Cup Market

Insulin Pumps Market

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Insulin Pumps Market

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Contact Person: Mr. Lawrence John

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[llyoid]

Freshly Frozen, Supplier Buah Mulberry Beku Bogor | TLP/WA. 0882-9552-2322 / IG @amantasegar

Freshly Frozen, Supplier Buah Mulberry Beku Bogor | TLP/WA. 0882-9552-2322 / IG @amantasegarAmanta Segar Adalah Toko Pangan Segar Lokal Dan Frozen Yang Terletak Di Kota Bogor.Kami Menjual Aneka Buah Frozen dengan Custom Berbagai Ukuran. Salah satunya adalah Buah Mulberry Beku Kemasan Praktis Simple 100 Gram, 200 Gram, 500 Gram dan 1 KGInfo & Order: Call/WA. 0882-9552-2322 atau 0813-8282-8222#SupplierBuahMulberryBekuBogor#SupplierBuahMulberryFreshlyFrozenBogor#SupplierBuahMulberryFrozenBogor#SupplierBuahMulberryFreshlyFrozenAmantaSegar#ProdusenBuahMulberryFrozenBogor#ProdusenBuahMulberryFrozenOnlineBogor#AgenBuahMulberryBekuEceranBogor#GrosirBuahMulberryBekuKiloanBogor#JualBuahMulberryFreshlyFrozenAmantaSegar#TokoBuahMulberryFrozenAmantaSegar#JualBuahMulberryFrozenMini100Gram#GudangBuahMulberryBogorUtara