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thgfanficinspo · 5 years ago

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Fear of the Water - 17

Annie is released from the hospital for the televised recap of her Games.

(too much fluff)

Fear of the water Chapter 1 - Coriolanus One-shot - Jonsa - my AO3

(ANNIE)

More doctors come to talk to me. They say they’re not regular doctors but head doctors but I don’t care and I don’t talk to them. They say that the film people need footage of me reuniting with my mentors. And I have to be wearing my uniform in it.

Mags is on her feet before I can even sob. She’s shouting at them or growling at them and I hold onto Finnick because he won’t let them take to I don’t want them to take me I’m afraid because I can’t put the clothes back on they’ll try to put me back in the arena I wore them in the arena I can’t go back there don’t make me go back there . . .

Finnick wants to argue with the doctors rather than letting Mags do it because he gets tense and he doesn’t want her to have to fight but he lets her do it cause he can’t leave me because he’s the only one that anybody listens to and he doesn’t want me to get hurt and I don’t want to get hurt and I don’t want him to go.

Mags wins the argument, and the film crew trudges out. Mags comes back and sits on the side of my bed. She says I don’t have to worry now and I should get some rest.

It’s another night before they let me leave. I don’t remember falling asleep or waking up but I know I must have.

I hang on to Finnick with both hands when we walk cause I don’t want to get separated cause what if I can’t find him again and I get lost in the trees and what if I can’t find my way out.

I don’t look where we’re going because I have to count how many steps it is from the hospital room to the apartment. I lose track at one point because Proteus is saying how he’s got this snack ready for when we get back to the apartment and – and – and – it’s ruined it’s ruined I have to start over and over and over it’s ruined I have to it’s ruined and it’s like fire ants crawling on my skin my skin doesn’t fit me right because my skin doesn’t fit me right I have to it’s ruined it’s ruined . . .

Finnick starts saying things saying soft things saying nice things but I can’t hear the words through my hands cause they’re over my ears but he keeps saying and then it’s a number he’s saying a number. He was keeping count of my steps, too.

My skin is still crawling with a hundred million bugs but it’s not as bad because I have the number. I ruined it but Finnick fixed it. So now it’s okay.

He counts our steps out loud with me the rest of the way so I don’t lose my place again.

I think maybe I forgot what the apartment looks like because it doesn’t feel familiar when I walk into it, like I’ve actually been there. More like when you dream about a place and it’s just a bit wrong but you don’t realize until you wake up. It is clean and empty. No people.

The dining table is set for a meal; I’m happy that we go straight there instead of breaking off or going into our rooms. Mags sits at the head of the table. I sit on her right and Finnick sits on my right. He pulls out our chairs for us and slides them back under the table once we sit down.

Proteus sets out a tray of pink triangles on the table before he takes his seat across from me. “Watermelon,” he says. “We don’t have anything like it back home.”

Finnick puts some on my plate before serving himself. “You’ll like it,” he assures me.

“Eat,” Proteus says. “You’ll feel better.”

But I don’t want to eat pink triangles. I pick the black seeds out one at a time with my stubby fingernails to count them. I get very absorbed in this because everything needs to be in order and be counted and everything needs to be in order. I come back out of my trance once the seeds are arranged in a perfect square and notice that there is a new fruit on the table. The fuzzy one that’s pink and orange. I don’t know who to thank for bringing them out so I don’t say anything.

The peach is sweet and juicy and happy and I have to smile while I eat.

Somebody comes out of the kitchen, walking slow. It’s the girl. The zombie girl the one with no tongue and nothing left a whole life scooped out and tossed away.

She sets a cup of tea down in front of me and smiles. I just stare at her. She’s a mutt now, isn’t she? Am I? She points at the tea and touches her throat with her hand. I touch mine, too.

“It’s to help your throat,” Mags explains. “It must still be sore.”

Greer’s eyes flicker to the ground and then back up to mine. She slinks back into the kitchen without turning around.

My mother, she butchered me My father, he ate me My sister, little Ann-Marie, she gathered up the bones of me and tied them in a silken cloth to lay under the juniper Tweet, tweet! What a pretty bird am I!

We sit in the kitchen for a long time until there’s a knock at the door. “That’ll be your stylist,” Mags says to me. She puts her hand on top of mine and smiles. “Nothing to worry about.”

Somes opens the door.

The mean one, of course, who hates my forehead and my teeth and the one with green hair so bright that it hurts my eyes to look at and there’s the one that wants my hair. They go ahead into my room while Mags and Finnick talk with Beest, then we go into my room, too.

The team has started setting things up – the mean one is steaming a black dress on a freestanding hanger, the one with green hair is organizing some makeup on the table, and Pleased-as-Punch is suddenly bouncing over to me. I reflexively take a step back.

“Annie! Oh, it’s wonderful to see you. Beautiful as ever.” She reaches out at me and she’s going to grab me and to hit me and put her hand around my throat and squeeze and she’s going to make me hurt and I don’t want that and my hands crash into her shoulders and she loses her balance and crashes to the ground.

I want to run away but my mother she butchered me I can’t because we’re stuck in the buildings now my father he ate me because the sun and the rain and the flood is outside so it’s not safe to go out there.

I stumble backwards and knock into a wall – no, not a wall – Finnick Odair – and I hide behind him because he is big and solid and safe and he won’t let them. He won’t he won’t he won’t.

People are saying things and somebody is upset more than one somebody is upset. They’re shouting that there’s something wrong with me and what the hell did I do call a goddamn peacekeeper no call a doctor everybody calm down what the hell don’t tell us to calm down!

I stop hearing words. It’s just fuzzy sounds, like you’re hearing underwater. Underwater. In the flood. In the city. We’re in a city now. A city and someone wants to choke me. On top of me. And his eyes are brown until they pop and then they’re not anything.

One of Finnick’s arms goes up and out like he’s telling somebody to stop or wait and his other arm comes around his back like a shell, partially shielding me but without touching me and that’s good cause I don’t want to be touched but I do want Finnick because he is big and solid and safe and he won’t let the hand choke me and he won’t let the water drown me and he won’t. He won’t he won’t he won’t.

(FINNICK)

I’m in a dressing room with my stylist and her assistants when one of Snow’s personal guards enters the room. The guards are handpicked Peacekeepers. They wear all black, including a long black coat, and have no visible weapons.

“Out,” says the guard.

My stylist ushers her helpers out of the room. She briefly outlines what she has left to do to get me ready before she runs off herself. I can see her deep, dramatic curtsey in the hall from the corner of my eyes. A few moments later, the president himself enters my room.

His smell, as always, announces his arrival. “Mr. Odair.”

“President Snow,” I say, dipping my head respectfully. I become conscious of the fact that I’m only half dressed. Maybe he wants to sample the goods for himself? No. He’s not that type of salesman. And though he facilitates it all the time, Snow doesn’t strike me as the sort of person that cares for prostitution in general. It seems too base for him.

“Leave us.” He doesn’t even look at the guard when addressing him. He sits down on the big leather sofa across from me and crosses his legs. “By all means, go on dressing.” I begin buttoning my shirt as he fusses with his white gloves. “Congratulations on your victor.”

“Thank you.”

“Your district will be very proud.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It has come to my attention that she may have some issues,” he says after a moment. Someone must’ve reported that she shoved one of her prep team to the ground.

“No. Not really.” Yes. Very much. “She’s just . . . having trouble adjusting.” And maybe that’s just what it is. But I don’t think so.

“The specific nature of her problems is not important at the present time,” Snow says. “It is important, however, that you keep your distance from her in the public eye.”

“I don’t understand.”

He sighs like he’s dealing with a child. “I understand you’re fond of her and perhaps even protective. Perfectly understandable given the situation. But you are not to interfere while she is on camera. You are not to help her, not to make any of it easier. That’s not the sort of man Finnick Odair is.”

No, the illustrious Finnick Odair is not that sort of man, even if plain old Finnick is. “I understand.”

“Good.” He stands and buttons his jacket. “Frankly, I am not concerned with what happens off camera, so long as no one sees it.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m sure.” He cracks a slightly amused grin, which quickly fades, and steps toward me. “Congratulations once again.” There’s blood on his teeth when he smiles.

I sit in the front row between Mags and Beest. Eefa and Proteus are on Mags’s other side, passing a flask back and forth and laughing. This is odd because Eefa doesn’t laugh and she doesn’t go out in public spaces where there are a lot of people. She must be just drunk enough to tolerate it. Eefa doesn’t enjoy many people, but she likes Proteus. I think it’s because he can be anything anybody wants him to be in any situation; Mags once described him as a shapeshifter. Broadsea is nowhere to be seen.

“The president came to see me,” I say to Mags.

“What did he want?” Mags whispers.

“He wanted me not to interfere with Annie. Not publicly, at least.”

Mags sighs. She doesn’t need me to explain it to her. “Well, that’s all right. I ought to be the one looking after her anyway. I would already if she’d let me. But she only seems to want you.”

I grunt in reply. I do want Mags to help. I think I need her to. I’d like to help Annie, but I really don’t know how. Mags knows what she’s doing. She’s helped all the victors adjust after their wins, not just the ones from District 4. It’s why so many of us are devoted to her, even broken ones like the drunks from 9, 11, and 12 and the addicts from 1 and 6.

I don’t know why Annie’s latched on to me. The only reason I can think of is that I’m the first one she saw when she woke up. She seems to think she’s in physical danger, too, so it makes sense that she’d prefer me. As maternal as Mags is, as comforting as she can be, she’s not in fighting shape anymore. But I’m big enough to hide behind and mean enough to scare people off and yes, if it comes down to it, I can fight better than anyone.

But I don’t know if she’s capable of thinking like that right now. I don’t think she is. It’s more like her subconscious made a snap decision to trust me and that was that.

“How did the rest of the prep go?” I ask.

“All right.” She sounds too tired to get into it right now.

“Not well,” Beest says at the same time. The lights in the auditorium dim and we all applaud. “At least she tired herself out by the end,” he hisses.

Annie comes out in a little black dress with pearls all over it. Pearls are woven into her hair, decorating her face and shoulders. I wonder if she’s wearing Mags’s hairpin. She would look beautiful if she weren’t so scared.

I don’t notice she’s barefoot until Beest starts cursing her under his breath for forgetting her shoes.

Music is playing and the crowd is cheering. Annie holds up her hand to shield her eyes from the lights that beat down on her. She shrinks away from the noise. Caesar somehow draws her over towards him without touching her and without her paying attention. She scans the crowd rapidly; when her eyes fall on me, the terror on her face is gone, though only for a fraction of a second.

Caesar tries to kiss her on the cheek, but she jumps back from him. The expression on her face is one of terror. Caesar laughs it off and invites her to sit in the heavy throne they’ve brought out for her. She climbs on and sits with her legs crossed, pushing the hem of the dress higher up her thighs. “I guess it was good she insisted on wearing shorts underneath the dress,” Mags says to Beest. He grumbles.

When the crowd calms down, Caesar is ready to ask a few warm-up questions. I’m sure the doctors as well as his higher-ups have given him instructions on what to say and how to behave since she’s been acting so strangely – actually, I don’t think I’ve heard her say a full sentence since she woke up. So Caesar’s questions are simple, mostly yes-or-no, but there’s some room to expand if Annie wants to. She doesn’t. In fact she remains totally silent throughout the interview. Doesn’t even shake her head or nod in reply. Just stares out at the lights and the audience and the cameras.

“Not very chatty, I understand, stage fright and all that,” Caesar says. “I used to suffer from it myself.”

The crowd vocalizes their disbelief.

“It’s true! Thankfully, though, there are pills for everything these days! Ha, ha, ha!” The crowd settles down and Caesar begins the interview. “Are you excited to go home?”

Annie starts gnawing on her nails.

“You have a brother, I understand. Your twin, yes?” Still nothing. “Well, I’m sure he’s very excited to see you.” Nothing. Caesar tries one or two more questions before he gives up.

The recap starts up and Annie stares blankly at the screen for the first forty minutes. She cringes and shuts her eyes during the bloodbath. She doesn’t open them again, but she somehow knows when the footage cuts to the image of her counting the bricks in her cave. When the Careers creep inside.

The real Annie pulls her knees against her chest and begins to sing under her breath.

I can’t actually hear her over the broadcast, but her lips form the words like they’ve been doing for weeks and that song is front and center in my mind the way it has been since she first started singing,

The moment comes where Gad grabs Annie’s hair in the cave and all hell breaks loose.

Annie – the Annie here and now, not the one on television – shrieks. She presses her hands over her ears and curls in on herself and shrieks.

Everyone jumps a little. Caesar, ever the professional, attempts to pat Annie on the shoulder and draw her back to reality. Touching her only makes it worse. She jumps away from him so quickly that she knocks over her heavy chair; it makes a sound like thunder when it falls down on the ground beside her. She remains there, huddled on the floor. Slaps her hands over her ears again and screams and screams.

I rise to my feet and surge toward the stage before I remember that I’m not supposed to help her.

She’s on her knees on the ground. Violent tremors wrack her body. Her eyes are pressed shut, but I can tell she’s not sure quite where she is. “No, no, no, no, no!” she sobs. “NO!” Her voice is so high-pitched now that it cracks.

“Cut the feed!” Caesar commands one of his crew. “Keep the recap going but cut the feed of her!” He turns to the audience with a smile on his face. “Ladies and gentlemen, please just afford us a few moments of patience.”

A handful of peacekeepers and doctors rush on stage as the lights dim. One of the peacekeepers picks Annie up, which draws a new, bloodcurdling cry of fear from her lips. Her eyes are wild as they dart about the auditorium. She flails desperately, trying to force the peacekeeper to drop her. But he holds on.

Her hands fly out over and over, attempting to scratch and cut but she can only scrape the armor with her fingernails.

The curtains close around the stage, blocking Annie from view. Her screams turn to defeated moans and then stop altogether.

I’m still frozen, gripping the edge of the stage. Watching helplessly. Mags puts her hand on my shoulder. Her other hand covers her mouth and there are tears in her eyes.

Caesar is saying something to the crowd as I force my fingers to unlock and realize my hands are shaking so hard that they’re practically vibrating.

People usher me and the other victors from 4 out as the recap starts up again; I put my arm around Mags. They blast the sound so that people can’t talk over it.

We end up backstage with a hodge-podge of peacekeepers with their helmets off, stage hands, Avoxes, and doctors. Caesar Flickerman is getting his makeup redone. Only a few people seem to be panicking.

“What is happening?” Proteus speaks in a sharper tone than I’ve ever heard from him before. “Where is Annie?”

“Please lower your voice,” says a female peacekeeper. “Annie Cresta is being returned to the medical bay for testing.”

“Testing?” I repeat. My tone makes it sound like I’ve never heard the word before. “She’s already been discharged.”

“Please follow me to your quarters,” she says calmly. She shepherds us into our apartment. “Please remain here while you await instructions.”

Proteus whips up a light dinner in the kitchen while I try to drink myself to death. Around the fifth drink, Mags yanks the crystal tumbler from my hands. “Enough.”

Greer and Somes start bringing out plates of food arranged like artwork. Proteus comes in from the kitchen and tells Somes what wine to serve with the meal. We all sit around the table, put our napkins in our laps, rest our forearms on the edge of the table (never our elbows), and eat in silence.

I open the window in my bedroom to hear the city outside. Most windows in the training center don’t open at all – there’s always a risk of a tribute jumping out – but mine cracks four inches.

But there’s nothing. No cheering from below. Not even drunken shouting or cars or trams. Just silence.

It’s a few hours before they summon us to the hospital. I try my hardest to sleep in the meantime but I just wind up staring at the ceiling.

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peomlghoststories · 5 years ago

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cerastes · 6 years ago

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Something I wanted to ask you a few days ago but then you suddenly actually fucked off to the South Pole: Can I ask about your tabletop characters? I know there's Rasmus and a someone named Lisbeth, I think? Do you have more? I'm always up and eager to hear about fruits born from your disaster head.

I do not have more, it’s those two, my beautiful shit children. Rasmus is for my DnD game and Lisbeth is for my Fate Core game. It’d be A PLEASURE to regale you with The Lore:

If you’ve read my tabletop blogging posts, and you likely have given you’re asking about the good ol’ lovable Human Rogue, then you’re already somewhat familiar with Rasmus Kasper Istre. A 24 year old charlatan and swindler through and through, back in his port hometown, Rasmus was a notorious “fortune teller” that scammed many tourists and merchants, an act made easier by the innate superstitious nature of sailors, and while his daggers are sharp, it’s his creativity that cuts deeper, fighting being his very last option as he will always attempt to fool, sabotage and trick others first, only brandishing harm if there’s no other choice. In stark contrast with his enthusiasm when it comes to taking money from others, Rasmus is vehemently opposed to taking lives unless it’s on self-defense or if the one relinquishing their life deserves it, a philosophy he sticks to even if it bites him in the ass. This is, in fact, what triggers his escape from his town: He swindled the riches right out of a big-time Elf magnate, disabled his bodyguard that came gunning for him some time later and even had the perfect chance to off him, yet refused to do so because, as he learned during his time hiding from him, the magnate is actually a really honest if grumpy guy who treats his subordinates fairly and with love, and he’s not about to take that life, opting instead to hit the road. He used to dual wield daggers, but lost one of the daggers during a sky-high encounter with wyvern riders, using an enchanted gauntlet imbued with lightning in the spur of the moment to fight with fist and blade, and he liked how it worked out, so now he uses the lightning gauntlet to deliver close-range blasts and electric grapples with the left hand while his deft dagger whistles with each swipe and lunge of his right. To not inconvenience himself and others, he wears a half cape draped over his left arm so he can touch things and people without thundershocking them or having to remove the gauntlet and risk being ambushed (wearing a glove in the middle of a fight is kinda hard!). He loves wearing cologne, especially one made with ghostshroom extract that he makes himself. People hate the strong smell of it at first but it sort of grows into them like an acquired taste or Stockholm Syndrome, and his favorite foods are juniper berries and beef jerky. Rasmus is 177 centimeters tall, has curly light brown hair, dull green eyes, wears his beard as a stubble, and has an average, fit build. Do NOT call him “Kasper” unless you’re in the mood for a bar fight. Mostly wears leather armor and has a thing for the color green.

Rasmus is childhood friends with Claudia, the party’s Human Wizard, and the two often snipe at each other with affectionate vitriol, although their attempts to screw the other over with money are very real. No hard feelings, though, that’s what it meant to grow poor in a port town, it’s your fault if something is taken from you. He doesn’t always see eye to eye with the Halfling Ranger (Ranger is rather kill-happy, which doesn’t sit well with Rasmus), and is buddy-buddy with the Orc Barbarian, especially when brothels and taverns are concerned. He currently is invested in helping the Orc Barbarian with his character arc whenever he can, as well as furthering his own Money Quest after accidentally starting a religion, the Solar Sect (it’s a long story). After enough deeds, the party received the blessings from Phantom Animal Lords from the wilderness, with Rasmus’ title being “Rabbit”; This is an inside joke referring to how my DM and the rest of my DnD group call Rasmus “Bugs Bunny” due to his trademark outlandish and creative ways of setting up the board to the party’s advantage and problem solving. Among his faithful, he is known as the Augur-spoken Prophet, and it’s really, really spiraling out of control. Initially, Rasmus and Claudia were supposed to hate each other, but Claudia’s player and I, IRL friends since a long time now, decided to make them shitlord friends instead. We were very involved with the creation of both characters and develop them continuously together now. Check the “Rasmus” tag in my blog for more anecdotes of his balls to the walls DnDventures.

Some of his deeds include:

Killing a seemingly unkillable hero by teleporting him high into the sky and letting gravity do the work, using a circumstantial item.

Strapping the corpse of said unkillable hero to a greatshield and creating an extremely powerful shield for our Barbarian to use whenever we need some nigh invulnerability.

Accidentally started a religion when he was accused of high heresy because he defiled the corpse of a hero by turning him into a shield.

Flirting with an Elf Priestess that turned out to be the magnate’s niece.

Flirting with her further anyway.

Naked Parkour in the Elf capital.

Wrapped his phony crystal ball with a chain and used it as an impromptu weapon after being disarmed, cracking a Chaos Dwarf’s skull with a nat 20 swing.

Earned the ‘Rabbit’ title, which apparently only happens once around every 3000 years, as the Rabbit Phantom Animal Lord is capricious and her favor only goes to those cheeky and cunning enough to both amuse her and impress her. Of all those, he’s apparently the second Human to ever have earned the title. Rasmus wears it with pride.

–

The other is Lisbeth Elstad. Now, you’re no doubt thinking to yourself “Wow! No one has a name like that!” And you’re right! Consider that a stage name, or a pseudonym, if you will. In a setting that takes place in the real world after magic and everything from beyond turned out to be real and has suddenly become widespread public knowledge, 19 year old Lisbeth is incredibly inept at even the most basic magic tasks with two exceptions: Mana Layering, the act of creating sheets, layers, and shells of mana, and Alchemy, the ability to turn one thing into another through meticulous formulas and the Law of Equivalent Exchange. In addition to this narrow scope, Lisbeth has always found it oddly easy when it comes to assembling explosives ranging from homebrew fireworks to high-yield plastic explosive custom formulas such as batches of SEMTEX and C4. Finally, Lisbeth is a natural woman of science, a passionate love for biology, physics and chemistry pulsating within her noodle, unfit body. You could say she’s a Human Alchemist/Bombardier of some sort, but her most heartfelt wish is to become a doctor and pharmaceutic. Now, this probably paints the image of a kind, earnest girl that just wants to help out with a smile, right? Well! That’s not quite it! As noble as she sounds, Lisbeth is quite the thug otherwise. Think of her less as a friendly doctor in the making and more of a really shady back alley doc that looks like she came right out of a The Misfits music video. She tries, oh, lord she does, to come across as classy, eloquent, and elegant, but no matter how much Calvin Klein “One” you spray on a rabid boar, it is still a rabid boar, and as soon as her very little threshold of patience is usurped, the elegant business front crumbles and the reality of a violent, easily angered busybody who happily solves her problems with rocks to the back of the head and high yield explosives lays bare. She’s the foster daughter of a famous nomadic mercenary leader known as the Mercury Witch, leader of the White Silhouette, and worked on board their craft as assistant doctor, with the Witch forbidding Lisbeth of taking part on any training that might foster her latent violent tendencies in hopes of mellowing her out. One day, however, they took on a job in which Lisbeth and her mentor, Melicia, ended up unwittingly making REALLY Bad Drugs instead of the Good Medicine they thought they were making for supernatural creatures, Lisbeth found out, they found out she found out, shit hit the fan, everyone’s MIA.

Not much to say about her yet otherwise, as the game is still in its preliminary phase. Instead, I can tell you about the scrapped 27 year old version of Lisbeth that I heavily modified after we discussed things and realized I had to make her much younger for it to make sense with certain aspects of the plot. This version of Lisbeth is still very much the same in terms of abilities, but has quit the White Silhouette on her own terms and roams around as a masked vigilante that aids supernatural beings oppressed by humans and as a doctor that helps supernatural beings for free. Most of her time is devoted to finding locations that traffic supernaturals or pits them in underground arena fights and dismantles them with the superior firepower and flair of plastic explosives and some good ol’ infiltration. During her time in France, she was suddenly attacked by a girl in traditional Japanese priestess attire, inciting what nearly was a deathmatch between the two of them. As the mystery girl realized Lisbeth wasn’t her target, however, she immediately stopped and apologized. The girl, named Yamaoka Keiko, is a prophet and descendant of the Blind Dragons who could see the future. The problem, she explained, was that her eyes were stolen and replaced with ones that can see, and she hates it. She’s looking for whoever it is stole her blind, silver eyes to claim them back and go back to her peaceful, beloved life of comfortable darkness and peace back in her shrine. Lisbeth, however, seems to have a clue about who it could be that can steal and switch something like eyes without any difficulty, and believing this to be fate as well as her responsibility indirectly, offers to travel with Keiko in search for her eyes. The two become good friends over the course of 18 months of traveling together in this adventure, but Keiko takes an extremely grave wound one day and is left unable to move for a good while, even with all of Lisbeth’s medical knowledge. Finding herself alone and unsure of Keiko’s future, Lisbeth decides to join the official magic law enforcement outfit that she hates in order to gain access to their information network. I’ll probably use this version of Lisbeth for other things, since I don’t wanna scrap it, bwahaha, probably with Glock Elf and TechSlime (and same with Keiko).

Regardless of her version, Lisbeth has an intravenous hose installed inside of her arms that leads to a “cauldron” in her torso, utilizing “internal alchemy” to transform proteins and cells into other chemicals, which she then expels through holes on the palms of her hands. This way, she can spray, say, napalm out of her hands. Since she has absolutely no competence at all in the art of magic but has an innate talent when it comes to chemistry and alchemy, she instead “fakes” magic by creating concoctions with her knowledge. Lisbeth stands at 176 centimeters, has a lanky, thin physique, and wears silver contacts (which is why Keiko thought she had her eyes) and hair dyed a very light creamy blonde. She wears classy suits and long-skirted jumper dresses for the most part, with an Orthrus (two-headed wolf) pelt draped over her shoulders, both heads dangling off her left shoulder. Her choice of attire and appearance, much like her pseudonym, are all part of her “business front”. Despite her bluster, she’s rather cowardly, but also extremely resolute. Lisbeth is the kind of character that would usually be the NPC Shopkeeper that sells you potions and charges you a small fee to fully heal your party, but circumstance has thrown her right into the adventurer’s shoes, and now she has to deal with it crying, screaming, and complaining, but hey, at least she gets to put her knowledge of bombs to good use!

#rasmus #lisbeth #tiza #long post #whoops I gone and made a wall without meaning to

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boneandfur · 7 years ago

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Riding Lessons [2]

CHAPTER TWO

Rating: for mature readers only // Words: 2388 // Summary: Juniper gets ready to ride in the rodeo, and unexpectedly sees a face from her past.

•••

"If yer still hellbent on this damn fool idea of yours, you gotta wear something else." Cliff coughs delicately, moving his finger up and down to indicate the dress. They're standing under the pines, killing time. A blush creeps up his neck. "Just think what kind of example you're settin' for Duke's girl."

"I think it's mad cool, grandpa!" Brooklynne squeals, hugging Juniper around the waist. "I'm gonna vlog the whole thing!"

Juniper looks at Cliff, though she doesn't need his permission, she feels chastised all the same. She looks to Brooklynne. "Brook, what size shorts are you wearing?"

Cliff's eyes bulge. "Oh, hell no. Duke would never forgive me if I let --" but Juniper is already tugging Brooklynne towards the bathrooms.

"This dress would look real pretty on you, Brook. In fact, if you like it, I'll let you keep it." Juniper keeps talking as they head into the bathroom and surpass the line, going straight into two neighboring stalls.

"They're actually a little too big?" Brooklynne squeaks from the next stall.

"Perfect." Juniper may have her mama's hips, but she can make it work. "Shirt too." Brooklynne's shirt and shorts sail over the partition, and Juniper passes Brooklynne the dress. She stole it from Caitlín before she left, hell, she stole Caitlín's boyfriend, Sully, too. But he didn't touch me the way Dick Mulligan... She pushes that thought away, but the memory of his touch is branded on her skin, she's aching all over with the need for him to touch her again, Just like that.

Seven minutes later, Juniper is in Brooklynne's hacked off jeans, now a pair of teeny tiny Daisy Dukes that hug her curves like a second skin. The tank top might be a problem, she acknowledges grudgingly to herself as she looks in the mirror. My breasts are the problem. She's wearing a red lace balconette bra that seemed like a good idea at the time, but is completely out of place under the black tank top, which barely skims her belly button.

"Here, Juniper." Asha appears, looking her critically up and down before passing her a plaid shirt, and Juniper rolls the sleeves up, tying it under her breasts.

"That's not what I..." Asha's eyes bug out. "Never mind. Looks cute, I guess. You might even pass for one of us, if you wore it the way God intended you to."

Is that supposed to be a compliment? Juniper doesn't answer, intent on braiding her hair, out of her face. "Thanks, babe." She blows an air kiss, and Asha recoils like she's been slapped.

"How's this?" Brooklynne taps Juniper on the shoulder, and she hears Asha suck in a horrified breath.

"Oh, sugar, ain't you a picture!" Her mama's words come out of her mouth before she can stop them, and Juniper coughs to cover her slip. "You look beautiful. Don't she, Asha?"

Asha is staring at Brooklynne like she's somehow become wild, feral. "You'd better cover yourself up! Juniper," she continues in a dark, urgent whisper, "I'm surprised -- no, shocked at you! You can't let that baby girl go out in the fair looking like, like -- that." They both look at Brooklynne, who is twirling dreamily in the mirror, the skirt fanning out around her knees, looking five years older already, the kind of girl who runs off with a carnival boy and never looks back. "When her pa sees that he's gonna --"

"What's Duke gonna do? Oh, hell." Juliette pops her head in through the door to the cement washroom. "Asha, you better take that kid to get a cover-up on before Duke and Cliff see her. Juniper, you come with me."

"And where the hell are you taking her?!" Asha demands, exasperation coloring her tone. "The rodeo starts in..." she checks her clipboard. "In less than fifty minutes!"

Juliette ignores her, pulling Juniper out into the sunlight. She takes a good look up and down at the tied plaid and the Daisy Dukes, letting out a wolf whistle. "Damn, girl! They gonna let you ride in that?" She waits until they're out of earshot, then her face splits into a big grin. "You're riding in the rodeo! Sawyer told me," she goes on, unaware of how her face lights up when she talks about him, like no one can tell how she feels inside.

If this wasn't all a means to an end, Juniper would let herself give them both a little push in the right direction, but she can't let herself get attached -- it hurts too much to say goodbye that way, and she never says goodbye, not if she can help it. "What else did he say?" Juniper plays with a loose thread on the shorts, which threaten to cut off her circulation at the hips. When all of this is over, and she's made it safely over the border, she's going to take a long soak in a copper tub, sloughing off this false identity like the dirt from the road. But until then, she's here in East Podunk, lying low, safe from the long arm of the law. "What?"

Juliette waves a hand in front of her face. "You in there, June Bug? I said that Sawyer was real worried about you, but I told him I'd take care of it. And first order of business is gettin' you some ridin' boots and a hat. You're representin' Oakley Ranch, after all." Juliette winks at her. "What size shoe you wear?"

"Six." But Juliette is already handing Juniper her boots.

Juliette runs a hand through her dark curls. "The toe box might be a little wonky, but I think you'll be all right. Those are five and a half's. They okay?"

The boots fit like a dream almost to the toe box, which pinches. But it's only for a few hours. Juniper feels a warm feeling of gratitude bubble up in her chest, but she pushes it away. The less beholden she is to these people, to this place, the better. She wiggles her toes. "Thanks, I think these will be fine."

By the time they finish, Juniper is wearing a red hat edged with cheap silver ribbon, and there are only fifteen minutes left before the rodeo starts. Juliette leads her to a roped off area near the gate, crowded with people and press milling around. "You just go over there and find Asha. She's probably by thie chute. She'll assign you your number. You want me to come?"

"Nah, I got this. Thanks again." Juniper hugs Juliette quick, kissing her on the cheek. Juliette smells of bourbon and green apple shampoo. She gives a little wave to Juniper.

"Good luck!"

•••

With a swing in her hips and a confidence she doesn't feel, Juniper waltzes up to the crowd of cowboys. Even in Juliette's boots, it's hard to see over the bobbing sea of ten gallon hats. There are rodeo cowboys and rodeo queens with spangles on their boots, there are little boys and girls in chaps leaning on the fence watching, and teenage boys swaggering around.

She's never seen so many girls in painted on jeans, sparkly cowboy hats, and push up bras in her life. Somewhere in the crowd, she can hear Dick's deep baritone, and the high pitched giggles of girls. She looks for a familiar face, but she's hemmed in on all sides. She spots Dick, surrounded by several stage five clingers, all spray-tanned and bleached blonde with their hair teased to high heaven. They're pouting, trying to get his attention, but he's busy talking to some dark haired guy who's dressed as casually as the others, yet looks somehow out of place. As if he can sense her eyes on him, the stranger raises his head, scanning the crowd, and Juniper ducks down, frantically backpedaling.

Dave Reyes. The long arm of the law has found her at last. I'm not ready. Not yet, please, not yet! She feels like she can't breathe, and sucks in several deep, rapid breaths, her heart rate speeding up. Her vision swims with black spots, and as she tries to fight her way back out of the crowd, she feels a wave of dizziness slam into her.

"Hey now, what do we have here?" A guy with a blonde crew cut, press badge, and a blue vest over a short-sleeved flannel shirt that looks like it came from the Sprawlmart clearance rack grabs her arm, smacking his lips as he surveys her. She's too out of it to slap him the way she yearns to, and instead a feeble protest leaves her lips as he hauls her forward.

"No!" Juniper tries to tug her arm back, but the guy isn't listening.

"A buckle bunny! Martin, look! I got us a real live buckle bunny!" he leers in Juniper's face, addressing her breasts. "How-de-doo, little bunny. I'm TJ." He snaps a selfie with a full flash, blinding her, and then gropes her ass. "Maybe you've heard of--" TJ has barely opened his mouth to start his spiel when Dick shoves his way through the crowd to step between them, his body shielding Juniper.

"The lady said no. Are ya as dumb as ya look, or are ya deaf, too?" Dick snarls menacingly.

With an irritated scowl, TJ puts his hands up like he'll shove Dick in the chest, then some sense of self preservation kicks in, and he steps back. "Get your own buckle bunny, man."

"Back off," Dick growls. "You really wanna test me, city boy?"

TJ mumbles something Juniper can't hear, and she whimpers. Dick whips around so fast she swears she can hear his spurs jangle, and then his arms are around her and he's carrying her through the crowd, all the way to a quiet corner in the back of the barn.

Dick sets her down on a crate, rubbing small circles on her back. He clears his throat. "He didn't hurt ya, did he, Goldilocks?"

Dizzy and nauseous, she shakes her head, and Dick passes her a flask from his pocket. She can't even touch it, too intent on trying to breathe.

"Good. I thought..." Dick shakes his head, then starts rubbing her back, his deep voice low and soothing in Juniper's ears. "Put your head between your legs, cup your hands over your mouth, and take some nice, easy breaths," he murmurs, beard tickling her earlobe and setting off butterflies in her stomach. "I swear to God, if I see that city boy with his hands on you again --" she hears the sound of Asha's irritated voice, and then Dick's big, warm hand leaves her back as he stands up. She can hear Asha upbraiding him for "harassing the press".

"You okay?" Asha crouches down near her, and Juniper nods, focusing on each small breath. Asha stands up, apparently satisfied with that answer, because she pats Juniper's shoulder awkwardly, and then fades back into the crowd when someone calls her name.

From the corner of her eye, Juniper sees Dave again, and she ducks her head beneath the brim of her hat, hoping against hope he hasn't recognized her. She starts sweating, and then she's shaking uncontrollably, trying to fight the wave of blackness that threatens to engulf her. Voices swim around her in the darkness, and then she feels Dick's hand on her back again, tethering her to the here and now.

"You clean up real good, Goldilocks," he whispers. "Knew I was gonna have to fight 'em off the minute I saw ya in them Daisy Dukes." When she looks over at him in surprise, he tips his hat and winks at her, then stands up, holding out a hand. "Ain't you gonna wish me luck?"

Juniper stands up, the world righting itself again. She scans the crowd for Reyes, but he's melted away, as though he never was. She bites her lip. Maybe she was just imagining things. Maybe... "Good luck? Shouldn't you be wishin' me luck, cowboy?" she pokes Dick in the chest, and then he's pressing her up against the barn, their lips a hairsbreadth away. She feels drunken, dizzy, though she hasn't touched a drop. Dick tilts her chin up with two fingers, and just as he bends his head, his breath warm on her lips, she hears Asha calling her name.

"Juniper!" Asha's voice, so close, makes her jump, and she wriggles past Dick, making her way towards Asha, who rubs the bridge of her nose in annoyance. Did she see Juniper and Dick, so close they almost could have kissed? Undoubtedly. Asha's voice is colored by something deep and green when she speaks again, and Juniper shifts uncomfortably in Juliette's borrowed boots. Her feet are beginning to hurt. "It's not too late to back out..."

Just lay low as long as you can, honey pie, Opal Mae's voice whispers in the back of her mind, as though her mama is standing right beside her. It's living out in the open that'll get ya. Ghosters are livin' dead people's lives for 'em. If the Feds don't know where ya are, they'll never catch up to ya.

But the money... they can start over with that kind of money, they can stop running for good. Three notes, Ellie. She thinks of the last postcard she sent, musical notes interspersed amidst her cramped handwriting. Ellie remembers, right? She must. It was all Opal ever whistled when it meant You're safe now, little chicks, the coast is clear.

"June?" Asha touches her shoulder. For a moment, Juniper loses her train of thought as she hears the national anthem start up, and Dick Mulligan swaggers past her in his chaps and black hat, raising his brows at her and giving her a nod as he passes.

One last con, one last game, you can do this, she tells herself. "I'm not backing out. I can do this, Asha."

Asha exhales through her nose. "Right." She hands Juniper a number on a piece of paper. "You're after Mulligan. Remember to mark the horse out, or you'll be disqualified on the spot." Her fingers brush a stray curl that's come loose from Juniper's braid. "Lucky number seven."

Lucky number seven. That's gotta count for something, right?

Tag list: @walkerismychoice @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @darley1101 @youwontlikewherewewillgo @choiceslife @regrettingnathan @viktoriapetit @thatcatlady0716 @breaumonts @blackcatkita @enmchoices @llamasgrl @littlecrookedheart @nazariobae @tmarie82 @gardeningourmet @anneross41 @ritachacha @cora-nova

(part one is on the choices archive - choicesfanfic.com under the same name. eventually i will make some new masterlists with the external links.)

#dick mulligan x mc #choices big sky country #bsc #playchoices fic #my fic

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thebodegabanditx2 · 4 years ago

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Buy Log Furniture

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floraltattoos · 5 years ago

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Bug Spray to Help You Repel Those Mosquitoes

Bug spray can be the best method to get those mosquitoes far from you. Presently, you can discover different repellents that you apply to your skin, garments or different surfaces which debilitates insects and different nuisances from hopping on that surface. Actually, these repellents are accessible dependent on sound creation, especially the ultrasound. Sufficiently genuine, these repellents help forestall the episode of creepy crawly borne illness, for example, dengue fever, intestinal sickness, West Nile fever and bubonic plague. As indicated by numerous examinations and looks into, manufactured creepy crawly repellents will in general be increasingly viable and long last when contrasted with those natural repellents. In spite of the fact that there are DEET items that can likewise be exceptionally powerful, engineered repellents can give viable alleviation too.

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* 8 drops Cedarwood Essential Oil - Juniperus virginiana

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* 4 oz. PET Plastic Spray Bottle

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#bug control #pest control #cockroach #insect control #mosquito

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ecotone99 · 6 years ago

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[MF] Seasons of the Gunslinger

Genesis 1:3 And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.

Sun-baked, sun fried, sunburned, sun destroyed. Just another goddamn day in the sun. Jesus, will this sun ever go down?

Finally the sun dips below the horizon and that ball of fire gives me the rest I’ve been hoping for. I give a tug on the reins and my horse stops.

My left hand removes my hat and my right works through my sweaty hair. A deep breath of the already cooling air fills my lungs. For the first time in many hours I really look at the country I’m passing through and appreciate its beauty. The rocks, covered with colorful lichen, poke out through the bluish sagebrush. Low juniper trees outline the washes and draws that work through this mesa like veins.

Ahead, I spot my campsite for the night. A low ridge about a mile off to the south. Ought to be some wood there and the orientation of the ridge should block the wind if it kicks up. I'll also have a great view of my back trail. Not that I am expecting pursuit but I will have plenty of good light for an hour or more anyway.

There is a cluster of large sandstone boulders that will shield the fire and a small patch of cheatgrass for my horse. My gun belt and hat are set to the side to take full advantage of the cooling air. The horse gets a rub down and then a small fire heats a large cup of water. I drop a chunk of hard tack and another of jerky in the boiling water. I eat this poor man’s soup as I watch nightfall cover my back trail. When full night arrives, I douse the fire and rinse the cup.

Time to lean against a rock and listen to the night. It is finally cool and my eyes drift closed.

I am not jerked awake. I’m just suddenly aware that I am awake. My eyes open and I see the waning gibbous moon splashing it’s silver light over the open plain. I am aware of my horse and can hear it breathing as it dozes.

I’m aware of something else. I am no longer alone.

My hand snakes out for the Walker Colt in its holster and the large pistol swings up. It settles on the dark apparition that sits against a boulder, some ten feet away.

The shadowy figure doesn't flinch. It does not react at all.

I wait. I have found it wise that when you’ve done what you need to do, waiting is the best thing to do next. It is also the hardest thing to do.

The silence stretches. I notice that it is now truly silent. A normal night, with its bugs and beasties, hums with life and quiet sounds. Now there is a true deep silence that is so rare in the natural world.

It seems odd that I can’t see the face of the figure. In the light of the moon I can see most things. This shape seems to swallow all light.

I wait.

The man-shaped thing waits.

“Alright, stranger, what brings you to my camp?” I guess I lose this waiting game but I’m still the one with the pistol.

Smoothly, the figure leans forward. Just for a moment, the hatless figure is just blackness and burning eyes. Then, as if it is moving out of a shadow that does not exist, I see fine, delicate features. Those eyes, they burn above an angelic smile for just a breath and then they resolve to a perfect black. The smile holds and I confirm my suspicion that this is a man.

“You called and I am here.” The smile remains as he speaks.

“I believe you're mistaken, friend. I’ve been actively avoiding folk for quite some time now. Can’t think of man nor beast I’d call to me.” My voice stays as steady as I would like, mostly.

“I have been called a beast, The Beast actually.” The smile seems to stretch even further, although it doesn’t seem possible. He chuckles a bit then and leans back. “And I suppose I am often mistaken for a man.”

“Listen Mister, I wouldn’t say I like killing but I have done it before. Please convince me not to shoot you just so I can go back to sleep.” I try to make sense of what the hell is going one but make no headway. I have never seen a man so comfortable with a steady hand holding a gun on him.

“Sean, let’s dispense with the banter and get down to business. I’ve had just about every threat imaginable leveled at me and yet… here I am.” My guest spreads his hands and executes a seated bow.

The name he calls me surprises me. I can’t remember the last time I was called by that name. Must have been in the old country, I am sure. Even on my Army papers I had put Michael instead. That name was easier to get rid of than my accent, but even that faded. It faded just like everything else, ground down in that war.

“Do you and I know each other, mister? ‘Cause I can’t seem to place you.” I am feeling the weight of my pistol so I lower my hand to a more comfortable position. “I haven’t heard that name in seven years or more.”

“Right, right, but I know your name, Not just the name you used in New York City and in the ‘Fightin’ 69th’. Not even the one you used back in Ireland. I know your true name. The one my Father called you when he breathed life into you.” The man tugs at his chin and looks up.”Shall I tell you some of my names or have you guessed yet?”

My mind scrambles and kicks like an armadillo digging his burrow. My heartbeats get faster and I feel something welling up inside me. A sick dizzy feeling that makes me shiver involuntarily. The gun sinks lower and I think…”Diabhal.” My mind slips to Irish in my surprise. “You’re Old Scratch aren’t you.”

The Devil’s smile seems to stretch again this time I know for sure no human could smile so wide.

“I’m not even thirty yet. Is it my time already?” My heart sinks, not sure if I want the answer.

“Oh, no. Sean Michael O’Flannery.” the way he says my name each syllable sounds like the strike of a bell reverberating in the back of my eyes. “Not your time. I’ll tell you a secret. Your choices change the time of your death all the time. Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” He begins to laugh now. A deep melodious laugh that gets just a little shrill before it cuts off.

“So what is it that I can do for you then?” I say as I put the big Walker back in it’s worn holster.

“Oh young man we’ll get to that. We’ll definitely get to that. But first things at the beginning, end things at the end and my things all along the way. Let’s talk about your call and your desires first. We can save the other bits and pieces for dessert.” His hands begin to dance around each other in a washing motion.

“I didn't call…” I start to protest. He holds up his hand and shakes his head.

“Skip the silly and frankly, childish word games. We both know you wanted me to come to make you into something else. To make you unstoppable, a force of nature to bring justice and settle old wrongs. I really thought you would call me during the war. But you held so tightly to my Father then.” He sighs and shakes his head in such an over dramatic way it is almost comical. “Now you accept reality. Even though He is omniscient and omnipresent He rarely gets involved. But I am always here.”

I feel the old familiar rush. The anger and battle lust that has made me who I am and kept me alive. “He NEVER comes! Never answers!” The venom in my voice is fueled by all those memories bubbling suddenly to the fore. My breathing is fast and my hands clench.

The man who claims to be a fallen angel just smiles and nods approvingly. “Yes, Sean. You see, that is why I came. That right there. I am eternal and I have hated for so long. It is always refreshing to see it burn anew.” A pipe seems to appear from nowhere in his left hand and a lit match in his right. He leans back and puffs. “Eternal but busy, Sean. Do you want to hear my offer or not?”

"I'll hear your words and I will keep in mind you are the Prince of Lies as you go." I say.

"The Prince of so much more than lies but I accept your sceptical condition." He puffs again at the pipe and exhales a cloud of smoke so dense it seems solid. “Sean my lad, I have seen you. Seen your heart laid bare. I have heard you. I have heard that voice inside you that speaks only the truth."

"Cease your own word games and speak plainly." I say. "I'm tired and you have said you are busy. Let's get on with this so I can deny you and go back to sleep."

His finger tips touch beneath his chin with the pipe clenched in his teeth, his shark smile stretching again. "Ah, the sweet taste of hubris." He leans in and his eyebrows arch. "Sean, my boy; faith and fear both require you to believe in something that doesn't exist. I see you have put aside your faith. My offer is to take away your fear. Fear of death, fear of hurt, fear of failure all gone. I will make you immune to disease and plague. I will make you immune to damage from accident or violence. I wish to make you the Achilles of your day. An indomitable warrior who fears nothing on the earth. I will do this, not for your soul, but for your service. My Father has cast me down for my grievous offenses and I have long ago accepted that. My goal is not to add souls to my empire of pain and torture. I will earn the forgiveness of my Father by assisting the development of his creation. The term of service will be one hundred years. You will take my directions during this time and at the completion of the term you will go to your just reward."

He leans back and his smile turns into a smirk. He curls his leg to his chest. He rests elbow on knee and cheek on hand. Waiting.

My mind races. The possibilities and opportunities fill me and I ran through the things I might do. I have wished for this exact power over death so many times. I am suddenly shocked to realize I am instantly considering this. A deal with the devil.

Cautiously, I ask, "100 years of invulnerability in exchange for me doing things for you? I cannot be your slave for a century. There is no advantage for me."

He laughs and slaps his leg "Oh, no not a slave. Just when I say something needs done or someone needs taken care of, you do it."

"Too open ended." I scoff.

"How about once a month." He counters quickly.

"Four times, once per season."I fire back.

"Done." He says.

"I get to choose whether to do it or not." I push a little.

His face goes stern and cold. "Impossible." He says flatly.

"I had to try.' I grin.

His smile returns and his hand comes toward me in one graceful flowing motion,"Seal it." He says and the words are in my head as well as in my ears.

I stare at that hand. I think of all the tales about making a deal with the devil. Have I heard of one that didn't go badly in the end? Somewhere in my memory is a story of a Saint that renounced God and turned to the underworld for power. Later he was able to have an archbishop or cardinal burn his contract. Of course I know well the story of the fool Faustus who sold his soul and wasted the magic he was given.

"I become your assassin for a century. Four times per year, one for each season. In return I keep my soul but become immune to all damage, all the time?" I attempt to state the deal as I understand it.

"Yes." He says " I have things that need done and I judge that you can do what I need. I have tried other contracts when I had different aims but now…" he shrugs."Your soul is yours to do with what you choose. It is much more...entertaining that way. Besides I have others that must be collected. So they can begin their torment and before they do too much harm."

"How long do I have to make this decision." I ask.

"Until I leave. So a few minutes." His smile is huge.

Slowly I extend my hand. Thinking about what this means for me and for the things I have fought for in my life. As I take his hand in a firm grip, I can't help smiling. The smile feels huge and I am sure it stretches impossibly far across my face.

Second Timothy 3:1-5 “But understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty.

Chilled to the bone, icy as a whore’s heart...cold as ice. Just another cold empty night. Jesus is the goddamn sun ever going to come up?

Finally the sun begins to lighten the sky and the temperature begins to rise. The truck rolls to a halt in the gravel. I brush the stray pieces of windshield off my lap.

I sit alone. It’s always my preference I suppose, but today it seems particularly fitting. I’m expecting company but I will enjoy this peace while I can. I reckon I’ll come out of this deal just about the way I went in. The warm sunshine filters through the trees and the morning breeze stirs my hair.

The road I have been driving down has ended. I know I lost my pursuers some hours ago but I just kept on driving. A feeling of being on the edge of a cliff comes over me. It is the date I have thought of a million times.

I don’t bother getting out. I just lean back into the upholstered seat and stare out the ragged hole that used to hold the windshield. My pack sits on the seat next to me and I reach and pull it over. I dig in one of the side pouches and dump out a can of Hoppe’s Number 9 gun cleaning solvent and several boxes of special order pistol ammunition before I find the flask.

I have no food in the bag. I don’t need to eat. Haven’t felt hunger pangs in a century now. I still like to eat a well prepared dish, but I have learned to keep it small. I eat only rarely and when I really want to because I also don’t have to shit if I don’t eat. I can’t describe the pleasure of not having to indulge bodily functions.

I am a living stereotype when it comes to whiskey and being Irish though. The burn is familiar and I take half the contents in one drink, knowing that my “condition” will knock the buzz down almost immediately.

I don’t need to sleep anymore either but I still enjoy it quite a bit. The hum in my ears from the whiskey and the sun beam hitting my face makes me drowsy. My head lolls back on the head rest, and my eyes drift closed.

I am not jerked awake. I am simply aware of a presence where a moment ago there was thin air. Several low sounds penetrate my drowsy sleep. I haven’t been afraid for a century. I’m just curious what is happening next to me.

I look to my right and see the old bastard rifling through my pack. It appears that he is laying my worldly possessions out on the dash of the pickup. The sun is fully up now and I guess that it is probably seven thirty.

“Live hard and die young. Isn’t that the saying you used? For your plans after the war?”asks the eternal being I have come to call Samael.

“I look at you and I see what happens when you only do only the first and not the second.”He speaks a bit absently and then looks up at me.

I feel that same feeling I always get when I lock gazes with an angel. It is a strange mixture of trepidation and excitement. It is the fear of a being that is orders of magnitude more powerful than I am; combined with the sure and certain knowledge that I am in some unknowable way, a superior creation of God.

My human mind has struggled for many decades to understand the complicated and convoluted history of the choirs of angels and their presence in the many theologies of the world. Never with much success. The truth as I understand it, about the twisted blending of all religions that represents the actual situation, is that there exists in this ancient and expanding universe more than we can understand. It may be more than we should understand. Suffice it to say all the religions have it right and all of them have it wrong.

Samael looks at me and says.

”So we come full round and find ourselves in the same place. It does remind me of when I sacrificed myself to myself. Oh Sean, that was a long nine days I tell you now, but the knowledge gained was worth it all.”

He closes his right eye tightly and looks at me as if I am meant to understand his cryptic crap.

I look at him quizzically. I have seen and done so many things. Read and heard so many tales. It is difficult for my mortal mind to hold and then retrieve it all. Slowly it occurs to me. I get a mental picture of Samael as One-Eyed Odin from Norse legend. He is said to have hung himself from the magical tree, Yggdrasil, and stabbed himself with his own spear. This sacrifice of himself to himself was made to show his willingness to sacrifice everything for knowledge. The knowledge he sought was the secret of magical runes. He hung that way staring into the Well of Urd for nine days until he understood all the magic.

“An Odin reference, Samael? Are you telling me that was you as well?”

I roll my eyes and shrug.

“I guess I pictured you as more of a Loki.”

Samael takes a cartridge for my pistol, a Linebaugh .500 and makes it roll across the knuckles of his right hand. It seems to disappear from one side and reappear on the other. I know this is only the dexterity of his fingers and no magic trick. I have learned this trick and many others by watching him.”Oh no. That was Asmodeus. If you knew him better you would understand.”

I don’t bother continuing this discussion. It isn’t what either of us want to talk about.

I wait a moment and I say, “Today was 400.”

His grin disappears. He looks at me seriously and says, “Yes it is. Is it true? Does time heal all wounds?”

“100 years and four seasons in each. I have often wondered why you didn’t tell me that those years would not be consecutive. Why you never mentioned that I would be dragged willy nilly into all of history and prehistory on your errands”

My voice has the implacable push of my thoughts behind it and I ignore his questions.

“I suppose that being a timeless being, with the ability to travel in the fourth dimension you know as time, as easily as the other three; it didn’t seem all that important.”

He shrugs and looks out toward the mountains to the east of us.

“I probably would have said yes anyway. Then, I certainly would. I am not sure about now. The things I know and have seen… I don’t know.”

The weight of my heavy soul seems to crush the breath from me. I voice the thought that has been running through my mind since I lost my pursuers some time after midnight.

“Samael, the lines keep running through my head.

I will show you something different. Your shadow at morning striding behind you, Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust. I was never sure what T.S. Elliot was talking about in The Wastelands poem but I think I know now.”

Suddenly Samael turns to me with an unholy intensity.

“So what now? Is that what you want to ask me? The answer is you are the one who knows that answer my boy. I spoke the truth to you when I said you can go your way and await your just reward. My Father’s gift of free will” He flips his hand in a dismissive motion.

I feel angry at this for some reason.

“So you just release me like a worn knife that cannot take another sharpening? Take the gifts away and walk off?” My voice begins to rise, “You had me put a lot of credits into your account with your Father, Yahweh! Did I commit 400 sins or 400 services? I don’t even know anymore. The lines are so blurred. I can’t see where I have been, let alone where I am going! My shadow before and behind is invisible and I fear this unknown. Goddamnit! I have seen fear in a handful of dust! I am an old man and I don’t know what comes next!”

I slump down in the seat again, the words leaving my mouth as a whisper.

“I don’t even know what I have left.”

Samael turns on the seat. He places his hand on my shoulder. He looks at me with eyes that are both patrician and paternal.

“I will help you if you want me to, Sean.”

I can’t help it. My eyes mist and my throat gets tight. I won’t cry. But Lord I want to.

“Sean, you have done me a great service, there is no doubt. Look at me, tell me what you want? Let’s use your poem as a metaphor then. Are you Sybil of Cumae that Elliot stole from an older source for his opening lines? Given the gift of long life but now trapped in a cage as a curiosity. Do you feel trapped in your long lifespan?

Sibylla ti theleis; respondebat illa: apothanein thelo...Do you want to die, Sean?”

His look is tender, his voice is soft, and the Latin from my favorite poem washes over me like a warm bath in winter.

“Perhaps you are the fisherman from the end of the poem? Will you be like him and use fragments to shore up the ruin? Will you carry on. Push on into the glorious land where Hercules and Beowulf await you? Will you stay with me and cross into legend as a hero?”

The energy flows in his words. Never increasing in volume but with the power of certainty, alluring and solid, infused throughout.

“I will do either for you, with an equal amount of love. For the first, just lay your head back and rest, forever. For the second, take my hand as you did once before. This time with no conditions on your immortality. Be your own man, bound to me only by, dare I say it, friendship.”

His left hand stays comfortingly on my shoulder as a symbol of the release that awaits in death. His right hand extends toward me, the same way I saw it all those years ago in the San Juan mountains of Colorado.

I think for a long time.

Slowly and deliberately I...

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lerche93hayes-blog · 6 years ago

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The most effective Information About Gardening That will Exists

Although the meals we all eat is relatively safe because it is secured in some part by the government, risky not eco-friendly pesticides still bring about a good whole lot of damage. Some people merely want to go organic and natural to receive away from the probably dangerous chemical substances. Read that article to find out there about organic and natural gardening. Completed compost may be soaked within water to generate a potent brew intended for various gardening needs! This compost tea becomes some sort of high-protein solution, rich in needed nutrients you can use for foliar feedings, the backyard backyard or perhaps actually the plants that you just retain indoors. Just another benefit of compost you can set to great use! Fertilize the garden soil you can be going to plant in several weeks before growing and maintaining. Simply by doing this, you are helping typically the soil enhance its capacity to preserve nutrients and liquid, which usually are especially important with regard to new flowers. There can be many fertilizers from which in turn to choose for your regional gardening store. You should definitely recycling your garden waste and organic kitchen waste for you to create compost for your own personal lawn. A compost ton helps make an excellent earth restorative. It may also save anyone a lot of cash, as you will never have to obtain bags of expensive financial compost or fertilizer for making your plants grow. Any time mowing your lawn, take care not to cut the grass past an acceptable limit down. If you leave a little more top, the grass beginnings will get greater, making your own lawn better. If you have limited grass, you will have short origins and a person will dry out your own turf. To treat damping-off fungus, employ chamomile green tea. Brew some sort of batch regarding chamomile tea, let that cool and fill some sort of generous amount around the base of the seedlings. Apply northern lights automatic samen for your stems and foliage from the plant and you is going to keep damping-off fungus infection coming from destroying your garden. Get rid of any garden unwanted pests immediately. Garden pests, such as red spider mites, ants, whitefly, and aphids, could infect your plants using various diseases, so if you see any associated with the plants in your back garden dying or screwing up to thrive, check intended for pests first of all. To find rid of back garden infestations, spend in a great pesticide. A spicy means to fix ridding your garden involving infestations is to spray your flowers with the hot mustard or purple pepper mixture (one tablespoon of hot mustard as well as red pepper to one particular quart water). The alternative is secure to spray directly on your garden foliage together with pests dislike the style of it! Try making use of a new natural weed great that does not consist of harsh chemicals. Spray weeds with full strength white the acv to kill all of them, and reapply as important in case you see any fresh expansion. Vinegar can as well destroy plants that an individual want to keep, therefore make sure not to help spray it on weeds that are found in this middle of some other plant life you choose to do not want to kill. When gardening, the idea is critical which you shield your ears. If you can't hear someone close to you even though you are working together with machinery, than the sound can certainly be damaging in your the ears. An easy way to be able to help ease this difficulty is to have on ear canal plugs when using deafening machinery. To ensure often the vitality of the garden, homework what plant life are native to your place. Even though imported plants might search lovely, they may possess health difficulties found in the climate. Native flowers and produce will quickly become able to adapt in order to changes in the climate, and will keep your own garden healthy and balanced and tough. Did you know that adorable lady bugs happen to be good for plants because these people kill hazardous aphids? Lady beetles, often known as ladybugs, feed on large numbers of aphids throughout its life. A single beetle can try to eat 5 various, 000 aphids! You could purchase ladybugs with a new garden center, or even by way of online resources, if a person don't have any kind of within your garden. Plants adore ladybugs! When watering plants use recycled water, but avoid re-using water from sources such as bath, washing machines, or even dishwashing. These kind of liquid sources may incorporate hazardous chemicals that can certainly be absorbed within your veggies such as nitrates together with phosphates. This water may contain pathogens that may cause harm to you or the plants. Plant your own seeds carefully, taking your moment. Start by getting the soil great and damp. Next, make sure you spread typically the seeds uniformly so that they can grow with place. The seeds should turn out to be left to a new detail that is equal to 3 times the diameter regarding the seeds. Certain sorts of seeds should simply be lowered on top involving the soil caused by needing sunlight for advancement. Produce mulch spreading simpler along with the right tools. Immediately after having the mulch, work with a flat-headed rake to be able to efficiently propagate the manure around. This tines connected with the rake assistance move the mulch and distribute it, while the smooth side of the rake distributes the area. Make use of the rake with a pushing and pulling activity. To be able to the natural way rid the soil of nematodes, that are soil-dwelling pests that can damage tomatoes and potatoes, make use of marigolds. The chemicals released with the marigolds' roots together with rotting leaves is harmful to nematodes. Plant marigolds around your tomato vegetables or even potatoes, or till these individuals into the soil before sugar plantation. This is the tip for natural and organic garden! Use a rainfall gauge. Many plants call for about the inch associated with water weekly. To understand how much you need to have to liquid, the idea is usually important to know how much water the plants received from rain. As rainwater can fluctuate greatly within a area, don't depend in your own weather report; instead utilize a rain gauge to determine the amount of money that fell at your location. Discourage deer in your own back garden. Deer love eating with vegetables, roses, fruits timber, juniper, and holly. They could decimate the yard within a day if given the chance! While people have a tendency to favor an electrical fence to discourage deer, there are certain things you can do that will don't involve pointless problems. Fill bags along with man or dog tresses, dried blood meal, as well as species of fish heads. Attach to typically the perimeter of your house, or even to specific plants that could be enjoyed. Otherwise, make a spray involving two egg yolks combined with one yard of water and spray fruit trees and shrubs liberally. For some cause, this appears to be to operate! Whether are you trying to go organic because anyone avoid want the chemical compounds in your life or even simply because you want often the freshest type regarding meals feasible, growing the organic garden is undoubtedly an outstanding way to always have fresh produce on give. Don't fail to use what you've learned here to be able to grow a great lawn!

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allineednow · 7 years ago

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<p>The Way to Transform Your Yard Into a Survival Garden</p>

There are two kinds of preppers: those who intend to run for the hills and those who hope to stay put for as long as possible. If you're the latter kind, you have undoubtedly outfitted your house with every conceivable advantage, from safety windows and doors to months-worth of shelf-safe foods. But if you haven't even touched your landscaping, you aren't doing all you can to prepare.

Your lawn is more than a futile zone between the unprepared masses and your beloved family. There's a lot you can do to transform your lawn into a space that improves your odds of survival, to include growing your own food and cultivating a line of defense against possible attackers. To make your very own survival garden, here are a few tip and tricks:

Construct a Natural Growing Environment

It should be clear, but plants do not naturally grow in rigid rows like you normally see in landscaped gardens. In the wild, plants grow just fine without weeding, trimming, or pesticide treatments; they continue to bear fruits and seeds with no human intervention. You should strive to build a survival garden based on a natural growing environment. Still, that doesn't mean you can throw seeds into your yard and expect them to grow. Instead, you must carefully construct your normal survival garden to optimize your benefit.

In nature, plants need to share water, air, and sun, and they protect one another from pests such as bugs and birds. This is normally accomplished through broadly organized concentric circles. In the centre is the tallest point, a large tree that protects shade-loving plants. Away from the color grow thick shrubs that keep away bigger pests such as rabbits and voles and outside them, fragrant herbs that keep away smaller pests while attracting pollinators and protective insects such as bees and wasps.

Ideally, you should optimize your usage of the three measurements while planning your growing environment. By doing so, you can produce up to five times more food than you might with conventional growing beds. Better still, because your lawn will simulate a natural environment, it will not encourage scavengers and looters to pillage your hard-grown food.

Choose the Right Plants

The plants you select will ultimately depend on your region and soil. For example, it's not likely that a prepper in Minnesota will find much luck keeping a citrus tree alive outside in the frigid winter; likewise, peaches don't grow well in the dry air and soil of Arizona. Additionally, the seasons may impact what plants thrive and produce meals and what plants go dormant or die. If you want a hands-off survival garden, you need to research what to plant when -- and maybe get some help from qualified professionals during your planning stages.

Here are a few examples of possible plants for your survival garden:

Trees: citrus, stone fruit, and nut trees

Shade plants: members of the cabbage family, including kale, broccoli, and arugula

Shrubs: berry bushes, sweet ferns, and other edible shrubs

Herbs: basil, lavender, mint, lemon thyme, rosemary, and most any other herb.

Consider Defensive Flora

On one hand, wide-open areas and floodlights provide you the visibility you will need to see possible intruders before they reach your house; on the other hand, if your house looks inhabitable and defensible, you're more likely to attract people wanting to take what you need for their own. In truth, you may be better served by keeping defenses that don't look like defenses -- that is to say, using your landscaping to shield you.

The easier you make it to get to your front door, the more likely you are to have traffic. Thus, the appealing and inviting front walkway will need to go. Instead, you should try to make passage in your domicile as perplexing and discouraging as possible. Around the outside of your lawn -- around the precious crops of your normal garden -- and along the narrow, winding passageway to the interior, you should install plants that are less-than-inviting. Some examples (of varying soil and climate demands) comprise:

Creeping juniper grows like a blue carpet covered in thorns.

Golden bamboo grows in thick clumps, making a hard, natural wall.

Firethorn is a tall tree with thorny stems that makes for another natural wall, but this one is covered in beautiful white blossoms and red-orange berries -- that aren't good for eating.

Sloe or blackthorn grows in hedges of thick, prickly foliage, and the berries can be used for flavoring gin.

Mountain or blue walnut are trees with especially sharp needles.

Be a Diligent Gardener

Even if you do opt for a low-maintenance, natural survival garden, you shouldn't expect to perform zero yardwork. At the minimum, you will need to harvest your plants throughout the seasons, and you will likely need to manage your defensive flora so that it doesn't impede your passing through your lawn. Even though it takes some effort to build and maintain, your lawn is among your most precious prepping resources, and you shouldn't neglect it.

The post How to Transform Your Yard Into a Survival Garden appeared first on American Preppers Network.

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mijntuin · 9 years ago

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21 december 2016: Juniper shield bug hitchhiked itself into my home on the cypress branches i bought for decorations. Don’t know what to do with it. It will certainly die when i keep it inside, but outside in the cold may also dangerous for the little beast.

#juniper shield bug #plants #christmas decoration #gardeners on tumblr #gardening #mine #plantblr #plant #garden #bug #insect

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lerche93hayes-blog · 6 years ago

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The very best Information About Gardening That will Exists

Although the foodstuff all of us eat will be comparatively safe because it is shielded in some part by the government, risky pesticides still result in a good good deal of damage. A number of people just want to go organic to receive away from the probably dangerous compounds. Read this article to find away about organic and natural gardening. Finished compost might be soaked in water for you to generate some sort of potent brew regarding different gardening needs! This kind of compost tea becomes a good high-protein solution, rich in needed nutrients you can use for foliar feedings, your current backyard garden or even possibly the plants you maintain indoors. Just another good thing about compost you can put to great use! Fertilize the soil you can be going to plant within several weeks before sugar plantation. By doing this, an individual are helping this ground enhance its capacity to preserve nutrients and waters, which usually are especially important intended for new flowers. There can be many fertilizers from which to choose your nearby gardening store. Make sure you recycle your garden waste and organic kitchen waste to help develop compost for your own back garden. A compost ton creates an excellent garden soil restorative. Additionally, it can save a person a lot of dollars, as you won't need to buy bags of expensive industrial compost or fertilizer to create your plants grow. As soon as mowing your lawn, take care not to cut the grass too far down. If you depart a lot more elevation, the type grass sources will get much deeper, making your lawn stronger. If you have limited grass, you will possess short roots and you will dry out the yard. To treat damping-off fungus, make use of chamomile green tea. autoflowering samen indoor of chamomile teas, let the idea cool and pour a generous amount across the basic of the seedlings. Apply a new spray bottle for that stems and foliage of the plant and you may keep damping-off fungus infection through destroying your garden. Get purge of any garden infestations immediately. Garden pests, like red spider mites, ants, whitefly, and aphids, can easily infect your plants with various diseases, so in the event you notice any involving the plants in your yard dying or fails to be able to thrive, check regarding insects initially. To have clear of garden insects, invest in a great pesticide. A spicy answer to ridding your garden connected with unwanted pests is to squirt your crops with a good hot mustard or green pepper mixture (one tea spoon of hot mustard or red pepper to one particular yard water). The solution is secure to spray right on your garden foliage in addition to pests can't stand the taste of it! Try working with a new natural weed killer that does not have harsh chemicals. Spray weeds with full strength white colored the acv to kill them, and reapply as needed should you see any brand-new development. Vinegar can also destroy plants that you want to keep, so make sure not to be able to spray this on weeds that are found in the middle of additional plant life one does not really want to be able to kill. When gardening, this is essential which you shield your ears. If you can not find out someone all-around anyone even though you are working together with machinery, than the sound could be damaging in your the ears. An easy way to help ease this difficulty is to have on head plugs when using high in volume machinery. To ensure this vitality on your garden, homework what plant life are indigenous to your spot. Whilst imported plants may look lovely, they may possibly have health difficulties found in your climate. Native plant life plus produce will quickly get able to adapt for you to changes in the weather, and will keep your own personal garden healthful and solid. Did you know of which pretty lady bugs will be useful to plants because that they kill dangerous aphids? Sweetheart beetles, often known as ladybugs, feed on large numbers of aphids throughout its living. One beetle can eat your five, 000 aphids! You may purchase creatures with the garden center, as well as via online resources, if an individual don't have almost any inside your garden. Plants enjoy ladybugs! When watering plants use recycled water, nonetheless avoid re-using water through sources such as bathing pools, washers, as well as dishwashing. These kind of drinking water sources may include dangerous chemicals that may be absorbed into the greens such as nitrates and phosphates. This water can even contain pathogens that may hurt you or your current plants. Plant the seeds carefully, taking your time period. Start by getting this soil great and wet. Next, it is best to spread the particular seeds evenly so they will can grow with area. The seeds should become left to the detail that is definitely equal to 3 times the height of the seeds. Certain different types of seeds should simply get fallen on top involving the soil because of needing sunlight for growth. Make mulch spreading less complicated having the right tools. Following having the mulch, make use of a flat-headed rake in order to efficiently distribute the manure around. The particular tines connected with the rake support yank the mulch together with distribute it, while the flat side of the rake evens out the area. Make use of the rake which has a fighting and pulling movement. In order to normally rid the earth of nematodes, which might be soil-dwelling pests that can hurt tomatoes and potatoes, use marigolds. The chemicals introduced with the marigolds' roots and even rotting leaves is dangerous in order to nematodes. Plant marigolds in close proximity to your the vegetable tomatoes or maybe oranges, or till these individuals in to the soil before growing. Listed here is a tip for natural and organic garden! Use a rain gauge. Many plants need about an inch connected with water each week. To know how much you need to have to normal water, the idea can be important to know the amount of water the plants got from rain. As rainfall can change greatly within a city, don't depend about the weather report; instead utilize a rain gauge in order to determine the amount the fact that fell at your location. Discourage deer in your garden. Deer love nibbling upon vegetables, roses, berries trees, juniper, and holly. They will decimate a good back garden in one day if granted the prospect! While people usually tend for you to favor an electrical fence to help discourage deer, there are certain points you can do that don't involve unwanted suffering. Fill bags having individual or dog tresses, dry blood meal, or even fish heads. Attach to this perimeter of your property, in order to specific plants that could be ingested. Otherwise, make a spray of two egg yolks mixed with one quart of liquid and spray fruit woods liberally. For some reason, this would seem to operate! Whether are you looking to go organic because an individual no longer want the chemicals in your life or maybe just because you need the particular freshest type involving food possible, growing an organic garden is definitely an superb way to always include fresh produce on hand. Don't neglect to use precisely what you've realized here for you to grow a great lawn!

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