#just like pure undiluted joy in movement

[curiosity-killed]

It cracks me up when people are like “you’re such an expressive, bright dancer” bc it’s just like yes hi this is the peak of joy for me. I look happy because I am so so so happy

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (46) || atz

At that one word, everything in your mind evaporates.

Gunho?

You don’t know how many times you feel like your brain has been reduced to a weak, steaming pile of mush, but you’re very sure about this, just one more bombshell dropped on you and you might as well just slip into a comatose state for the rest of your life.

You’re familiar with the word, most of all from Yunho’s lips. The lookout speaks of old tales about his brother nearly every day, recalling fond stories about their time in the arena, how their brotherhood blossomed, especially so in the bleakness of the arena. You’re well versed with the tales of how the two of them had looked out for each other, watched each other’s backs, grown up to become comrades and best friends.

In the rigging, you had listened to him recall days of training and fighting as the three of you, you, Yunho and Wooyoung, had worked to raise and adjust the sails together. When the wind was constant and the weather was good, all of you would sit in the ropes and listen to Yunho talk. You had not  much past to speak of and Wooyoung steered clear of speaking about any history of his, thus his tales entertained the two of you greatly and helped to pass the time. You didn’t mind, the lookout was a good speaker, peppering his stories with funny anecdotes and often poor attempts at acting which always brightened your mood.

But behind every happy tale, there had been a lingering sadness in Yunho’s eyes, a pained smile to the end of every story, an unspoken, sad conclusion to what should have been a beautiful chronicle of brotherly kinship.

Gunho’s death had weighed heavily on Yunho’s mind, you know, from the way his eyes sadden minutely every time you bring him up on accident. Yunho prefers remembering the happy, good times with his brother, when the two of them had been together, but the thought of his brother always brings up a single fact that he can never ignore.

He had been too late to save his brother.

It’d been like a bitter pill for Yunho, hard to swallow and even harder to accept but he’s done it already, biting back his tears to face the big, wide world with a positive, cheerful smile. He’s supposed to have moved on already, putting the past behind him as he continues to move forward… but you doubt that he would have expected for his past to be dredged up again once more, upturning everything he had once believed.

Gunho is alive.

It’s as if time stands still for a moment as the once hooded man straightens up to stare at Yunho in surprise, sword nearly falling from his grip from the shock of seeing his older brother after so long. Deep brown meets deep brown as the two of them simply take in the appearance of the other, as if they can’t really believe that fate was kind enough to let them cross paths once again in this lifetime.

You’re almost ecstatic for Yunho, knowing that this must be the most heartwarming reunion that you’ll ever have the luck to witness. A grin pulls widely at your face as you turn to look at Yunho, who’s simply gazing upon his brother in disbelief. Slowly, you see him blink, once, twice, as if trying to prove to himself that this really isn’t a dream, before his jaw clenches and you see a single tear spill over his eyelashes and down to his cheek.

“Gunho… you’re alive?” Yunho chokes out, voice overcome with emotion and the brown haired man looks as if he’s been snapped out of some sort of daze. A blinding, dazzling smile of sheer joy spreads over his face as tears rolls down his own cheeks.

“Brother, I’ve been searching for you so long!”

Hesitantly, Yunho looks over to his captain, who looks just as stunned as everyone else on board is. Then he nods, slowly, and Yunho is stepping forward slowly, as if still in a daze. Gunho throws his longsword to the side in his excitement and runs straight into his brother’s arms, embracing him tightly.

The moment the two of them meet, the entire crew seems to heave a sigh of relief. There is no one on this ship who doesn’t know exactly how dear Gunho was to Yunho, or how much Yunho regrets not being able to save his younger brother from that godforsaken arena. But now, even if it had to be through this terrible meeting with the Royal Navy, Yunho can be reunited with Gunho.

Something warm blooms in your heart as you watch the two of them hug, squeezing the life out of each other.

“I can’t believe you’re alive.” Yunho sobs into his brother’s shoulder, now that you see them side by side, Gunho is shorter than Yunho, more stocky and built as compared to Yunho’s taller and longer stature. Gunho nods, one hand reaching to pat his brother on the back reassuringly as his other reaches to his belt.

And something sinks in your chest.

“I missed you so much.” Gunho rests his head on his brother’s, voice soft and soothing, rocking Yunho back and forth gently as Yunho continues to cry, shaking his head and mumbling incoherent apologies into Gunho’s shirt. “I really do love you… brother.”

What happens next is almost too fast for you to see.

You don’t think anyone could have expected it, really. Not a single person on the ship could have possibly even guessed in the slightest that this was coming. Even though it happened right in front of your eyes, you merely stood there in shock and watched as everything seemed to fall apart in that one split second, unable to move, mind incapable of processing the events that had just happened.

One blink of an eye, the two brothers are embracing.

In the next, Yunho is crumpled on the deck, blood gushing from his side.

For a moment, no one moves.

Incomprehension.

Shock.

Disbelief.

What?

It’s a razor sharp knife, the steel drenched in dark red blood. Your eyes, wide with terror, follow the weapon as Gunho merely raises the blade to his mouth, licking the blood off the knife while he looks upon his brother writhing on the ground with what you can only describe sick, twisted amusement.

“Oh? I didn’t think you’d be on guard enough to react so quickly around me. And here I thought you were glad to see me again, brother.” Gunho merely sighs as if disappointed, shaking his head as his tongue darts out to catch a little smear of blood at the corner of his serene smile. “But then again among of the two of us, you were always the lucky one, weren’t you?”

Yunho chokes in pain, a muffled scream ripping from his throat as he curls into a ball, crimson spilling over his fingers and staining the deck red with his blood.

His brother turns around, facing Commander Kang as your brain tries to understand what has just happened, but it’s failing miserably. “Let’s go, Commander.”

Nothing makes sense to you, you manage to think blankly to yourself, as the world pitches and rolls around you. Absolutely nothing. But one thing you do know, that you’ve been trained to do ever since you stepped onto this ship, is to treat the wounded, and you know that Yunho is going to die if you don’t get to him as fast as possible.

But you’re terrified. Your master isn’t here, he’s in the captain’s cabin, together with Mingi, there is no time for you to call him, and you will be utterly alone. There will be no one to instruct you, to make choices for you, to share the responsibility with you.

If Yunho dies...

For a moment, you so desperately just want to stay rooted to the spot in fear. But you do know that every second you think, Yunho’s life drains away little by little, and with a curse, you throw all rational thinking to the wind. Hurrying forward, you tear your outer shirt from your shoulder, kneeling at Yunho’s side as you inspect the wound as fast as possible, trying to remember everything your master has taught you through the haze of panic.

The second you spring into action, your captain moves too, pulling his musket from his belt as he takes aim at Gunho, eyes narrowed with blazing fury.

But Gunho doesn’t seem intimidated in the least, simply smiling amicably and sliding the knife back into the belt as if he hasn’t just stabbed one of your crewmates in the gut in an attempt to kill him. Hongjoong’s fingers tighten on the trigger.

The crew too, begin to stir into movement, raising their weapons to fight, but then one voice cuts through the noise.

“Hongjoong, no!”

Only his true name, shouted so desperately by one of his closest friends, could have any chance of stopping your captain in the blind rage he is in. His green eye is clouded over with pure, undiluted wrath, the usual flames in his gaze fanned to a blazing inferno. Normally, you realise, no one would have a chance against him when he’s like this.

But then, it’s Yunho telling your captain to stop. Yunho, who’s just been stabbed by his long lost brother, one who he had once thought the world of. Yunho, bleeding out and dying next to you.

He can’t bring himself to kill his younger brother.

And because it’s Yunho who tells him to stop, Hongjoong does. But you can see every muscle in his body just screaming to pull the trigger, but he holds steady, the barrel of his musket trained at Gunho’s head.

“Why did you do that?” Hongjoong snaps, his voice somehow ice cold yet burning with rage, every syllable is ringing with fury. Gunho merely shrugs, a cheerful, remorseless grin on his face that honestly is starting to look a little deranged to you.

“Just a little siblings’ spat, captain. Nothing too much to worry about.”

Breathing, you recall, your eyes snapping to Yunho’s face as you check him over. He’s panting, gasping from the pain as his fingers press against his wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. There are tears of agony in his eyes and you start ripping your overshirt into strips, pressing your makeshift padding against Yunho’s wound.

At the pressure, Yunho cries out in agony, the sound tearing at your heartstrings. You try your best to ignore the sound of one of your best friends sobbing right next to your ear, but each cry is so heart wrenching you wish you could just cut off your own ears to stop the heartrending sound. With Yeosang, it was a lot easier to just treat his wounds as he was nearly unconscious from blood loss, but with Yunho writhing around screaming in anguish right next to you as you press down hard on his wound?

No amount of training with San could have prepared you for this.

You glance upwards, seeing Seonghwa drop from the ropes and sprint across the deck to your side, crouching next to you as he takes in his friend’s ashen face. Heart racing in your chest, you take one look at the wound and you know simply stemming the bleeding with your pathetic replacement of actual bandages isn’t going to be enough. Making up your mind as fast as you can, you turn to Seonghwa. “Tell San to get here as fast as he can and grab my healer’s bag from the sickbay.”

The cook doesn’t even bother giving a nod in response, pushing through the crowd on the deck and racing to the cabin. A second later, your master bursts out of the door, face white with horror as he catches sight of Yunho on the ground. Then he’s by your side, checking Yunho’s breathing and pulse as his critical eyes rake across the wound.

“Stab wound, about two and a half inches wide. Serrated on one edge, and deep, but likely to have missed all his vitals organs.” San rattles off as he moves to inspect the wound more carefully. “Pulse is weak, but the blood isn’t pumping out, which means it luckily didn’t hit an artery. But he seems to be in too much pain for a wound this size…”

Then his face turns ashen in realisation and he leans in to sniff the wound, before his eyes widen with horror. You feel your heart drop in your chest at your master’s expression.

“The wound is poisoned.”

Your captain hears San’s words over the din and all of a sudden, you feel every hair stand on the end at the sheer anger that’s rolling off your captain in waves. Hongjoong’s fury almost seems like it’s on the verge of setting the very environment around him ablaze, every survival instinct screaming for you to get up and run away from him as fast as you can.

“Where is the antidote?” Hongjoong snarls, grip tightening on his gun, but your heart sinks at the words. Somehow, deep in you, you can already guess where it is. Gunho merely laughs like a tinkling bell, tilting his head to one side as he grins at your incensed captain with an innocent smile that might just be the most terrifying thing you’ve ever seen.

“Why you got to be so serious about this, captain? The antidote isn’t with me right now.” Gunho sighs, shaking his head as Commander Kang steps towards the rowboat they had come from, followed by the guards. At the bulwarks, he turns to smile at his brother one last time. “I hope you live, brother. It’ll be a lot more fun killing you slowly that way.”

You can’t help but stare at the younger Jeong brother in shock as he simply turns around and steps off the ship, not the least bit concerned about the muskets all trained at his back. Commander Kang eyes all of you coldly from the rowboat.

“Meet us on the Cayman Islands when you’re ready and bring along the four parts of the deal. The antidote will be there. Harm us in any way and the deal is off. I expect to see you there soon, captain.”

With that, they simply lower themselves to the sea, disappearing from your sight.

You now know why they had the audacity to step aboard this ship even though they were so vastly outnumbered. Your captain can’t possibly kill Commander Kang or Gunho. He needs them alive for answers and to save Yunho’s life. And it seems like such a cruel joke, that you and the crew have all been played along like this, like marionettes on a string.

Hongjoong screams in fury, his fingers tightening so hard on the musket that his fingers go white.

Why? What does the Royal Navy want with you?

Two months ago, on the sea witch’s island, you had chosen to give up your memories. Two months ago, you had decided to walk down the path with your crew mates and family instead, leaving your history behind you as you started on this new journey.

But now?

It seems like that elusive past is finally begin to surface, bringing with it all sorts of dangers and darkness that you hadn’t once thought existed.

And you're terrified at what is to come.

[writingsfromspace]

Under the Sea

505 words | The Stenotypist & the Dragonslayer (AU)

Prompt | Every time Vits undresses, Braen notices something new and adorable about their body. / Mermaid AU - OTP Fluff Generator

Did you think I was joking? I was not joking. This is pure undiluted fluff, enjoy. (Vits is based on a cleaner wrasse and Braen on a potato grouper, which is a real fish that actually exists. You’d have to be very enamoured to see constellations in it, though.)

“What are you staring at?” Vits asked when he threw a glance over his shoulder, the striking black and blue stripes of his tail twitching back and forth as he led the way across the seagrass bed. There was something almost defensive about his tone, uncharacteristic insecurity masked with disregard.

“You’re beautiful,” Braen replied quietly, before he could stop himself. He didn’t think he would ever tire watching the Vits’ confident movements, the way he carried himself like nothing in the world could hurt him.

Vits just snorted, but Braen didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up, despite his quickly turning away to hide it. “As if.”

Braen decided not to argue. What could he say he hadn’t said before?

When they arrived home, Vits causally threw his grey coat aside, letting it float down onto the sofa, and Braen couldn’t help but smile, knowing what came next when he started off like that.

Vits didn’t look at him when he slipped out of his tunic, while Braen didn’t took his eyes off of him for even a moment while he collected Vits’ coat and hung it next to his own.

Then he closed the distance between them. Vits swirled around, getting a hold of his collar, and started to undo the ties of his tunic. Braen was left to hold on to his hips to keep them from drifting apart, and admiring the yellow stripes down his scrawny shoulders, the gradient to the blue still hidden beneath his undershirt.

He was so beautiful, and the touch of his hands, even through the fabric, sent Braen’s pulse racing.

Finally, Vits paused to raise his head and look at Braen. He looked softer, now, more vulnerable. Braen gently cupped his cheek, wanting nothing more than to protect him from anything that could hurt him.

A small smile appeared on Vits’ lips; he grabbed his shoulders and leaned in for a kiss.

Braen melted, slipping his arms all the way around Vits, pulling him closer. It took him a moment to register one of Vits’ hands sliding downward until it reached the hem of his tunic. He grudgingly accepted the momentary interruption when Vits pulled it over his head.

For a second, they were split apart, just looking at each other near naked. Vits trailed a finger across Braen’s mottled grey shoulder. “They’re like stars,” he murmered.

Braen wasn’t sure he’d heard right, and chuckled awkwardly. “What?”

“Your spots,” Vits said, raising his voice to almost normal levels. “They’re like stars.” He looked down, avoiding Braen’s eyes.

Braen squeezed him, his entire heart flushing with joy. Vits never was poetic. Braen didn’t think he’d ever felt so honoured. He nuzzled the side of Vits’ head, prompting him to look up again, defiantly; his pale yellow cheeks had blushed a soft orange Braen had never seen before.

He beamed, and Vits awkwardly looked to the side. “Don’t laugh.”

“No - no! That was beautiful.” He leant in to kiss Vits’ cheek, still hot under his lips. “You’re beautiful.”

[marypsue]

Symbiote Ford AU portal shenanigans! Bet you all thought you'd seen the last of this particular piece of self-indulgence. :)

I'm also on AO3 as MaryPSue!

...

The first warning anyone has of the intruder is when it steps into the middle of the war room.

Instantly, everyone’s on their feet, weapons drawn. Anyone who can get through the multiple levels of hologram diversions and security failsafes without triggering a single alarm is a big enough threat that a few laser knives and percussion guns aren’t going to do much, but if there’s one thing that every soul in the resistance movement shares, it’s a complete unwillingness to go down without a fight. 

The intruder stops, in the doorway, and stands still for a moment. Jhen notices with the clarity that comes with pure, undiluted panic that it’s small, under six feet, with no obvious spines or claws under the hooded cloak it’s wrapped in. Of course, that doesn’t mean anything - there are plenty of vicious weapons that can be easily hidden on someone’s person, especially under something like a cloak - but somehow she’d expected one of Bill Cipher’s assassins to look...scarier. 

The intruder raises two arms, slowly, the cloak falling aside, and Jhen catches herself lowering her blaster. She whips it back up again, training the humanoid figure of the intruder (only four limbs? Really?) in its sights, but it’s strange. The sense of danger, the heart-pounding terror when she’d first noticed the intruder, is fading fast, replaced by a sense of...familiarity?

The intruder grasps the hood of its cloak, and slowly, carefully, lowers it. The face it reveals is unfamiliar - a pale pink-orange, with a fluff of something brownish on top and two glass squares sitting in front of what Jhen assumes must be the eyes - but it isn’t the face that catches Jhen’s eye.

No, what Jhen notices first are the gently-wafting pink frills on either side of that unfamiliar face. 

She isn’t the only one. Across the table, Zarek shoots her a warning look. “We don’t know that that’s -” he starts, but Jhen ignores him, holstering her blaster and loping across the floor towards her friend.

The host startles backwards at Jhen’s rapid approach, but she gets no fear from his response, only a natural apprehension at something so much bigger than him moving towards him at high speeds. “Rahn! You made it back!”

Rahn lets out a squeaking noise when Jhen scoops his new host up into a six-armed hug, but it quickly turns into a laugh. He brushes his shoulders off when she plants him back on his feet so she can stare, accustom herself to the sight of his new host. “You’re so tiny.”

“Maybe it’s you who’s huge,” Rahn teases back, and Jhen barks out a laugh. 

“You haven’t changed one bit,” she says, reaching out to tap that funny protuberance in the middle of his new face with one fingertip.

The golden pulse of joy and relief that Jhen’s been getting from her friend suddenly sours. He reaches up with one hand, adjusting the glass plates in front of his face, an automatic nervous gesture that seems familiar and natural to him and yet, one that Jhen doesn’t recognise.

“Unfortunately, you’re wrong on that count,” Rahn says, and then holds out one of those absurd, tiny arms. Jhen has her blaster half-drawn before she realises it’s not holding a weapon. He’s just extended a hand to her with nothing in it. She blinks at it. “It’s...very nice to meet you...again? My name is Ford. Stanford Pines.”

...

Rahn - or "Ford", he's very patient about it but it's impossible to miss how it upsets him if someone uses his old name - has some issues adjusting for size and general body shape (no hard carapace? or venomous fangs? or prehensile tail? Jhen is a little surprised anything like "Ford" managed to survive long enough in the wild to evolve sentience). Otherwise, though, he slots right back into the group as though Rahn had never left.

A few of the more...physical jokes have to be cut from everyone's repertoire, of course, but apart from that, it's the same sense of humour behind that squishy pink exterior. He's got a few new dietary restrictions (although "Ford"'s stomach is surprisingly resilient for something that's otherwise so vulnerable, and it quickly becomes one of his favourite jokes to see if he can eat something everyone else considers inedible, which leads to no fewer than six medbay visits before Alta tells him to knock it off), but still goes back for seconds of most of his favourite foods. And, perhaps most importantly (to Zarek, at least), he remembers everything about their efforts so far to stop Bill Cipher, and is not only willing but able and determined to pick up where Rahn left off. 

The quantum destabiliser slowly starts taking shape again, under "Ford"'s guidance. Even though Zarek won't let anyone abandon the contingency plans they'd put into place when they'd thought they'd lost Rahn for good, for the first time since she'd seen her friend go down in a burst of blue flame, Jhen feels like they might actually have a chance.

...

Jhen finds R- Ford (she’s getting used to the name, but it still feels strange to call her old friend something new) up on the observation dock, leaning his elbows against the railing and looking down at something in his hands, oblivious to the magnificent starfield visible through the clear dome. She’s still learning human ‘facial expressions’, but she knows she hasn’t read this one wrong.

Jhen notices the fronds draped against the sides of Ford’s neck don’t perk up at her approach. He must really be lost in thought. She makes sure to clear her throat as she walks up behind him. “I thought you might be hungry. Stuffed bonnok leaf?”

Ford jumps at the sound of Jhen’s voice, nearly dropping the thing in his hands over the railing. There’s a heartstopping moment where he scrambles for it, and Jhen has to grab him by the belt to keep him from toppling over and falling the length of the station.

Finally, though, one of his funny many-appendaged hands closes around the little rectangle of worn paper, and Jhen hauls him back over the railing. She only catches a glimpse of the paper before Ford stuffs it hurriedly back into his pocket. 

“Thank you,” he says, a little breathlessly, straightening up and adjusting his ‘glasses’. “I - yes. I was hungry.” He takes the stuffed bonnok leaf that Jhen offers, leaning back against the railing before he peels back the foil and takes a bite. His gaze turns skyward, and he munches thoughtfully through the stuffing, fronds waving agitatedly.

“What’s the matter?” Jhen asks, and Ford freezes, both face and fronds, before relaxing against the railing with a sigh.

“You’re getting very good at parsing human emotions,” he says, ruefully.

Jhen ‘grins’, one of those ‘facial expressions’ that she’s picked up from him, curling back her lips to reveal all her teeth. “You’ve never been able to hide how you’re feeling from me. Remember the time that -”

The feeling that bubbles off of Ford is like a blast of winter air. Jhen stops mid-sentence.

“I remember,” Ford says sharply. “But that wasn’t me.”

“What?” Jhen asks. Even as the word comes out of her mouth, she knows she’s made a mistake.

“You’re remembering Rahn,” Ford says, looking down at his bonnok leaf. He’s drawn back the icy anger, but now his thoughts and his emotions are all locked down, carefully controlling what he projects. Jhen can’t get a read on him at all. “I remember him too, but - he’s gone, Jhen.” The way he struggles to form the sounds of her name with his flat face, more than anything else, drives the truth like a frozen nail into her heart. “This isn’t like a molt, isn’t just a matter of switching bodies like shedding an old skin. He’s gone.”

It's said with a sort of heavy finality, and the way that Ford turns back to stargazing tells Jhen quite clearly that the conversation is over. She leans back against the railing herself, unwrapping her own bonnok leaf and downing it in two bites.

"Is that why you're upset?" she ventures, once she's crumpled the foil wrapper from her bonnok leaf into a ball and eaten that too. "Because you miss being Rahn? Or -"

"Because I miss being Ford," Jhen's friend says, the words clipped and angry. He scrubs a hand through the funny tuft of 'hair' that tops off his head, letting out a sigh, and his shoulders slump. "I understand that, for you, it feels like your friend came back from the dead. And I don't mean to single you out, it's not you, it's everyone. But - you all remember Rahn, and I do too, but none of you know anything about me as Ford. And no one has cared to find out."

Jhen carefully doesn't tell him that she doesn't understand what he means. He'll be getting it loud and clear from her thoughts, he doesn't need her to be rude enough to repeat it out loud like she doesn't know how it will make him feel to hear it. Rahn had always hated -

"You can't keep assuming things about me based on what you knew about Rahn," Ford interrupts, half-turning to meet Jhen's eyes. 

"But they're always right," Jhen argues, before she can stop herself, and Ford pinches the bridge of his 'nose' between two of the six (six! who even needs that many fingers? Jhen gets along just fine with half that number) appendages on one of his hands.

"They're always right because I'm remembering -" He stops, takes a deep breath in, and lowers his hand from his face. "Today, until about twenty minutes ago, I was convinced that I was hatched from a nursery on Theta-144."

"But you were -" Jhen starts, and Ford throws his arms in the air, bringing his hands down to tug at his hair.

"No! Rahn was!" He stares at her, a little wild, and when he speaks Jhen gets the feeling that he's repeating the words as much for his own benefit as for hers. "Stanford Pines was born in Glass Shard Beach in New Jersey on Earth in nineteen...nineteen fifty-something, not hatched!"

Jhen feels like she ought to say something, but she's not sure what.

Ford shakes his head, letting his arms and his fronds droop. "Never mind. I'm not certain it even matters." He turns around, to lean out over the railing again, his head tilted up to look at the stars. "And it's not as though I'll ever see home again," he says, and Jhen knows he isn't talking to her. "Maybe it's better this way."

Most days, the observation deck buzzes softly with echoes of the activity taking place through all the levels of the station. Right now, though, it seems very, very silent.

Jhen clears her throat, uncomfortably.

"What's a New Jersey?" she asks.

[proseandpeonies]

A Gift

Hey!!!!!!!!! I haven’t posted anything in forever, sorry! This story is a bit of a gift you all, so merry Christmas or happy Hanukkah or whatever holiday you celebrate.

Summary: Christmas party clean-up is a bitch, but at least Aelin and Rowan have some old traditions and some new gifts.

For a very long time, Aelin had not celebrated Christmas. She’d had no family to gather with, no people to give gifts to, and no reason to celebrate. But now… Aelin looked around her dining room, at the decorated space, at the candles that were burning down to nothing. Her house had been stuffed to the brim, and they’d had to make every available space a dining table. It had been tradition over the past few years for their little circle of friends to gather at her place on Christmas day. But then her place became her and Rowan’s place, and then their circle began to grow.

She loved their little tradition, but the cleanup was always atrocious. Aelin ignored the giant pile of dishes that had overtaken her sink and walked out to the dining room, where Rowan looked like he was having a small crisis with the decorations. She’d covered their mantle with dozens of candles, then their table, and then she’d added as much garland as possible.

“Hey, hey, hey! We’re not taking those down yet,” Aelin half-sprinted to her husband and her candles, “Those took me and hour to get up.”

Rowan backed away with arms raised and collapsed into a chair, “As long as I don’t have to figure out how you got them all on the mantle and on the table and on the—"

Aelin rolled her eyes and surveyed their dining room. It wasn’t too much of a mess, Lysandra and Aedion had helped clean up, but still…

   Aelin groaned as she plopped into Rowan’s lap, closing her eyes as she snuggled up onto him. Partly because she was exhausted and partly because she didn’t want to see the dishes they’d yet to do.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispered into her ear, his arms sliding around her waist and tugging her further into his lap.

Aelin shrugged against Rowan and kissed his cheek. “I’m thinking about how tired I am,” Aelin frowned at her kitchen, “And I’m thinking about what a mess we have to clean up.”

Aelin set a hand on her stomach casually and hoped to god Rowan hadn’t noticed she hadn’t drunk any wine at dinner. It would certainly ruin her surprise.

Rowan laughed softly, “Don’t remind me.”

Aelin hummed and threaded her fingers through the soft hair at the back of his neck, swirling them idly. Rowan leaned into her touch, a smile on his face. The soft sounds of Christmas music filled the silence and Rowan, it seemed, was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Aelin removed her hand from his hair and slid it down his shoulder to his hand.

“You can’t fall asleep yet, Buzzard, we haven’t danced yet,” Aelin kissed his lips softly and slid off his lap. “Up, up, up.”

Rowan groaned but stood, “We just sat down, Princess!”

Aelin ignored him and grabbed her phone, turning up the music on her speakers. For the past four years that she had known him, she had always made him dance on Christmas. The first time, they’d only known each other for a few months, but they’d both been drawn to each other, and the dance had been late on Christmas day. It had been no surprise to any of their friends when they had begun dating a few weeks after that dance.

Aelin turned, setting her phone down on the coffee table and sauntering towards Rowan. He watched her with amused eyes, his hand outstretched.

As the soft, slightly melancholy sounds of instrumental Christmas music filled the room, Aelin slid into Rowan’s arms.

Rowan wrapped a tight arm around Aelin’s waist, tugging her against him.

She met his gaze, the candle light flickering in his eyes, and smiled softly. “Do you remember the first time I made you do this?”

She began to sway, and pulled a bit out of his arms, only to be spun back in. She was very glad that she’d abandoned her heels hours ago.

“I do.” Rowan whispered, his voice soft, like he was afraid to disrupt the quiet. “I remember what you wore, I remember the song we danced to, and I remember wondering the hell I was doing when I looked at you that night.”

He spun her again, his eyes never once leaving hers.

“What do you mean, Ro’?” She wrapped her arm over his sweater-clad shoulder, her fingers moving idly on his back.

Rowan shook his head, a little laugh slipping from his mouth. “When we danced that night, I realized that I was unequivocally in love with you, Aelin, and I kept wondering why I didn’t say anything, even after we danced and danced and danced.”

Aelin beamed and rested her head against his shoulder, tears gathering in her eyes. “You knew you loved me that early?”

Rowan stopped his slow movements and kissed her hair, his arms squeezing her against him. “I had known for a long time that we weren’t just friends, but,” Rowan paused, searching for the words. “But that night, I looked at you Aelin, really looked at you, and I knew that you were the one I wanted beside me to whatever end.”

Aelin dipped her head, the tears sliding down her cheeks and onto Rowan’s gray sweater. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry today but… She thought of the little wrapped gift box in the other room, and realized that if she was crying already, she would most likely be a blubbering mess in the next few moments.

“Rowan, I almost forgot,” Aelin began ushering him to the couch, “I have a gift for you.”

“Didn’t we already exchange gifts?” he asked as he turned to the couch, his brows furrowed.

“Yes, Buzzard,” she made him sit, “But I wanted to wait until we were alone to give it to you.”

Rowan raised his brows suggestively, and Aelin flicked his ear. “Not that kind of gift, you teenager.”

Rowan laughed, the sound so care-free and relaxed, Aelin wondered if he would laugh like that after she gave him the gift. Don’t think like that, she warned herself, both of you have wanted this for so long.

“Close your eyes, Rowan, and I’ll be right back.” She watched carefully as he shut his eyes and leaned back against the couch. “No peaking.”

Aelin walked away slowly and into their bedroom, striding towards her dresser. With shaky hands, she opened her top drawer and grabbed the little blue box. Aelin studied it for a moment. This little box would change their lives from here on out, and all that was in it was a little yellow onesie.

“Are you sure its not that kind of gift, because you’re taking forever!” Rowan called from the other room.

Aelin rolled her eyes and brushed her hands through her hair quickly. A little yellow onesie…

“Keep your eyes closed,” she called back, “Wait until I tell you to open them.”

Aelin padded back into the living room, her feet silent on the hardwood. Rowan sat still on the couch, his hair glinting in the candle light and a soft smile on his lips. Aelin walked before him, and set the box on his lap, kissing his brow once before saying, “Open.”

Rowan glanced at the box and began unwrapping the little silver bow. “What’s this?” He murmured.

Aelin felt the tears welling again, and hoped Rowan didn’t notice. Rowan tugged off the lid and gasped, his eyes darting from hers to the little card that read: Coming August 2018.

He plucked up the card then gasped again as he saw the little onesie. “Aelin, does this I- I mean, a—” Rowan picked up the onesie and clutched it to his chest, silver lining his eyes.

“Yes,” Aelin said, smiling even though a sob was working its way through her throat. “A baby, Rowan, we’re going to have a baby.”

Rowan’s face lit up with a smile and then he was kissing her. He was surging to his feet and giving her the softest kiss, wrapping his strong arms around her gently. Aelin laughed into the kiss, squeezing him against her.

Rowan pulled back with a gasp, and laughed with pure and undiluted joy. “We’re going to have a baby!”

The smile on Rowan’s face was what finally made her tears fall, and Rowan looked confused.

“Why are you crying, love?” He wiped away her tears with a finger. He kissed her brow and brushed away more tears, his brow furrowed, “Your happy about this, right?”

Aelin laughed and wiped at her face, “Of course I’m happy, I’m so happy Rowan! I just…”

Aelin laughed again and wrapped her arms around Rowan’s neck, kissing him soundly on the lips. “I’ve just been waiting to tell you, Rowan!”

Rowan pulled away and held the onesie to his chest, “How long have you known?”

Aelin kissed him once, and met his eyes. “Two weeks, but the doctor said I was a month along, so the baby is only six weeks.”

Rowan smiled again, and that smile was so full of joy and love that Aelin’s heart actually melted. This man, this wonderful and amazing man was the father of her baby; the one she was going to raise their child with.

Rowan set the onesie down carefully and wrapped his arms around her waist, his face calm. “Thank you, Fireheart,” he whispered, “Thank you so very much.”

Aelin kissed him again— she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of kissing him— and hummed softly, “You helped.”

Rowan laughed, “I suppose.”

She watched him and felt the air change. He opened his mouth to ask, but Aelin was already nodding. Rowan bent a bit and swept her up in his arms, slanting his mouth over hers. And with every motion Rowan made against her body Aelin was reminded how lucky she was.

“Are you sure your pregnant?”

Aelin looked through the dark to Rowan, and smiled, “Yes, and may I ask why you ask?”

Her husband smoothed a rough hand over the skin of her belly and shrugged, “You don’t exactly look pregnant.”

Aelin laughed softly and turned over to face him, tugging the blankets up and over them. “I’m only six weeks, Rowan, I probably won’t get too big until around three months.”

Rowan made a noise of acceptance and continued to trace lines on her belly. Aelin tucked her head into his shoulder, allowing the sensation of Rowan’s fingers to lull her to sleep.

Rowan couldn’t sleep. He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep for the next nine months, because there would be so many thoughts whirring through his mind he’d never sleep again. But he didn’t mind at all.

A baby.

They were going to have a baby. Rowan felt a smile form on his face and did nothing to fight it. This was definitely the best Christmas present he’d ever received.

[everlarkchristmasgifts]

When the (Gingerbread) Walls Came Tumbling Down

AN: Technically, I wrote this for the Gingerbread prompt, but I ran out of time. So I whacked some snow into it, and viola! I might write a continuation of this story for another prompt another day if anyone might be interested. Unbeta’d. Un-everything, really, Enjoy :)

“It’s sacrilegious!”

Katniss shakes the snow from her heavy winter coat and hangs it on the hook by her door. She sighs; they’ve been deadlocked in the same argument since they left the supermarket. Maybe they’ve been having it since middle-school, when Katniss first brought a defrosted, prepacked Sarah Lee muffin for lunch. Peeta barely spoke to her the rest of the day, and brought in a whole tray of homemade chocolate muffins for her the next. “It’s fine!”

“Not when it’s my goddaughter, it’s not.” Peeta barges past her, snatches her shopping bag, and stomps his way into her kitchen. The following rattling thump tells her he tossed it in the bin. He throws open her cupboards and rifles around her spice shelf. “I know you have all the ingredients. I like to keep you stocked.”

“Because you’re the only one who uses them.” She sighs again and follows the clatter of sound. “Ava likes the pre-packed gingerbread houses, Peeta. It’s fine.”

“Only because she doesn’t know any better.”

“She’s three, Peeta. She hasn’t had many chances to learn.” And besides, this is the first Christmas since Ava was born that Peeta will even be spending with them. Every other, he spent with Madge and her family, baking gingerbread houses for her nieces and nephews.

But Katniss isn’t bitter. Not anymore, at least. Not now that Madge has been out of the picture for the past four months for reasons that Peeta refuses to explain.

Peeta peeks out from behind her pantry door and points at her with a jar of cloves. His nose is still bright red from the cold, but is there something else clouding his eyes other than challenge? Regret, maybe? Sadness? Guilt? But it’s gone before she can blink.

“All the more reason to hook her in early.”

Katniss sighs and sets herself down on one of her kitchen stools. She should know better by now than to get in the way of Peeta on one of his crusades against mass-produced baked goods, armed with just his own handmade equivalents as weapons. It’s not as though he’s going to lose. And besides, there’s not much else she enjoys more than the sight of her best friend’s ass poured into his favourite pair of jeans as he works, or the look of such dedicated concentration to every movement he makes in the kitchen; it makes her think of the dedication he’d show in… other areas…

No. She shakes her head of the idea. Her thoughts about her best friend have never gotten her anywhere, and count for even less now that she’s a single mother to a little girl who thinks her Uncle Peeta is just about the best thing ever. (Taking after her mother in ways Katniss never expected). Those thoughts are ones she can’t afford anymore.

So why won’t they go away? Why is every dream she has at night filled to the brim with Peeta, Peeta, Peeta? Why do they keep growing, expanding, into something she’s not sure she has room in her head and heart for? Whenever she’s around him, and even when she’s not, she’s sure she’s about to burst from the pressure of all those thoughts and feelings wending away inside her.

She watches Peeta putter about her kitchen as though it’s his own. And in all fairness, it just might be. Every appliance she owns is just another in a long line of well-meant gifts from Peeta that only he uses. She just sits there and reaps the delicious benefits. She’s not sure where she’d be without his easy, uncomplicated friendship. God only knows what he gets from her, though. She thought she’d lost him for good the night he told her he’d started dating Madge. She thinks that night might have been the one when Ava was conceived, when she was lost and blinded by a grief she hardly understood at the time, consoled by a warm body at a bar, and later in a hotel bed.

“Katniss?” She glances up, finds him at her side, his hand gentle and warm on her shoulder. There’s that same, indefinable little flicker in his eyes, a softness she sees daily, but with something… else. She blinks, and it’s gone again. Why does she only notice these things when it’s too late?

“What’s wrong?”

Katniss sits up, forces a smile to her lips. “Nothing,” she says. “Just… I love you, Peeta. You know that, right?”

His eyes widen, and she sees it this time, forces herself to focus on it, this concerto playing out inside him: the flicker of pure, undiluted joy that grows and swells, that falls almost as quick into something like disappointment for just a fraction of a second before the warm light comes back.

“I love you, too, Katniss,” he says, pressing a kiss to her temple before striding back to the kitchen. “Always.”

“Always,” she mutters back, but now she’s more confused than ever.

“Hey, you want me to pick up Ava from kindy today?” he asks as he mixes up the batch of dough with her only wooden spoon. “Give you the chance to hide her presents?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’ll take her to visit Dad at the bakery, too. So you’ve got some extra time. She loves him anyway; he always slips her cookies when he thinks I’m not looking.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Something the matter, Katniss? You’re being more awkward and monosyllabic than usual.”

He’s smiling at her, though. Enough to take the sting out of his words.

“No. I think… I think I just realised something.”

He stops stirring, stares at her with that same odd look. What the hell does it mean? Is it… could it…

“Yeah?” He starts up the stirring again, maybe a little more forcefully than before. “Something important?”

“Yeah, um… maybe. I’m… can I leave you here for a minute? I just need the… bathroom.”

He shoots her a quizzical sort of smile, and waves her off. “I’m sure I can manage things here on my own for a few minutes.”

She bolts away and down the hall without another word, wrenching open the bathroom door and slamming it closed behind her. She falls against the counter, knocking over a bottle of Ava’s favourite no-tangle, strawberry-scented shampoo. She feels like she might explode. When she glances in the mirror, though, she doesn’t look any different. She thought it might be written all over her face, the utter ineptitude of her thoughts and feelings.

For good measure, though, she splashes her face with ice-cold water. Just in case.

When she comes back to the kitchen, Peeta’s rolling the dough out in a thin sheet across her counter, his brow furrowed in concentration. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before, but this time — with Peeta silhouetted against the snow beyond the window, making up the pieces for a gingerbread house for her daughter, in that ridiculous reindeer-printed sweater that makes his eyes bluer than ever — the force of it all hits her hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs.

She’s in love with her best friend. She thinks she might have been in love with him for… always.

He looks up, smiles at her, and there’s no way she’s missing the look in his eyes now.

Because she thinks he might be in love with her, too.

[tarisilmarwen]

*slides into your inbox* Soooo. . . You got any Teen Titans/Pacific Rim AU you'd like to share? ;D

Whoops I slipped, have an excerpt:

—

“How’s she feeling so far?”

He glanced down at his harness, testing his mobility in the new cockpit drivers.

“There’s not as much drag,” he observed.

The voice in his radio headpiece positively gushed with pride as it explained, “Yeah, for the Mark Vs we completely redesigned the pilot interface for maximum flexibility.  Makes the Jaeger faster, more mobile, lessens the force of impact when you get tossed around out there.”

The teen grinned.  "Can it do a double handspring now?“ he asked.

“Not quite yet, but we’re working on adding shock absorbers to the legs and feet,” came the joking reply.

“If you two are done goofing around,” the gruff voice of Bruce interrupted.  “We have a test run to perform.”

“Sorry, Sir.”  There was the sound of a clearing throat.  “All right then Grayson, Anders, get ready for neural handshake.  T-minus one minute.”

“Roger that, Vic.  T-minus one minute,” he acknowledged.

The Jaeger thrummed to life around them, lights blinking on and components sliding into place.

Dick glanced across at his nervous co-pilot.  Kory was fiddling with the straps of her harness.  Her fingers fumbled and shook as she tightened them.  He felt another pang of sympathy for her, remembering back to his own rookie years, the anxious anticipation of being inside someone else’s head for the first time, and he felt compelled to put her at ease.

“The first drift is always the hardest,” he told her, speaking up suddenly.

She started at the sound of his voice and looked up at him with anxious eyes.

He smiled at her, reassuringly.  "Just relax and let the memories flow,“ he said warmly, trying to keep the mood light.

"O-okay…” she stammered.  She ducked her head apologetically, with a bashful expression.  "I am sorry,“ she said.  "I am quite nervous.  Supposing I go out of synch?  Do you think they will expel me from the program?” she asked, sounding for all the world like she genuinely believed Marshall Kent would do that.  Dick almost laughed.  Her worry was adorable.

He reached across the space between them to take hold of her hand, and he squeezed it once, gently.[1]

“You’ll do fine,” he assured her.

She gazed into his eyes a moment and then smiled faintly at him in silent gratitude.  The hand that he was holding stopped trembling; he could feel it even through their metal-and-leather gauntlets.  He squeezed it one last time and then let go, settling into ready position.

Machinery whirred and charged, and the computer recited the countdown in their ears.  Dick leaned back and closed his eyes, exhaling.  He wasn’t too worried.  This wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before.  He could handle this.  Bruce would see it.

Three… two… one… he counted along inside his head.

“Neural Handshake initiating.”

***

When the first deluge of memories and thoughts began to flood his mind, Dick nearly staggered under the weight of Kory’s sheer, undiluted emotion.  The pictures that flashed before his eyes were impossibly vivid, crystal clear and intrinsically tied into how Kory was feeling at the time.  So when he saw her as a small, terrified ten-year-old cowering in a dark underground shelter, her tiny hands clutched around her sister, both of them whimpering and shrieking as the sound of thunderous footsteps, deafening roars, splintering glass, and crumbling brick raged on outside, above their heads, he felt her fear and helplessness as acutely as if it had been his own.  As sharply as if he’d experienced it yesterday.  He felt, too, her incurable anxiety as she walked along a seaside pier, looking out towards the ocean and afraid of seeing the monstrous form of another Kaiju rising from the waves.  He felt her excitement and adoration when she sat at a confetti-covered restaurant table with her family, celebrating her sister’s acceptance into the Jaeger program, the smell of fried food and warm bread filling her nose.  He felt her own pride and joy and elation as she opened the envelope with shaking hands and screamed in delight, having been accepted into the program herself.

Kory’s memories held a vitality he’d never experienced before in all his years of drifting with Bruce, and then later with Roy, and Raven.[2]  There was none of the expected memory fog that clouded and colored her recollections.  Instead, Kory’s memories were bright, the colors sharper and more intense, the sounds and smells keen.

Dick was carried away by the rush of it, unable to hold still in the current of emotions.  Years of drifting could not have prepared him for this.  Raven and Bruce had carried as little emotion into the drift as possible.  He himself had tampered down on his feelings as much as he could.  But now he was overwhelmed.  Swept up.  He felt for her.  He felt with her.

So whenever the Drift started shuffling through his own memories, he saw them with fresh eyes, fresh feelings.

His latest argument with Bruce.  Irritation burning in his veins.  "What is your problem?“ he heard himself demanding again.  "You don’t think I can handle myself with a new copilot, is that it?”

He saw the scene play out as if through a distant window, saw the guarded, uncomfortable look in Bruce’s face as he replied, “It’s not your performance I’m worried about.  It’s hers.”

The sting in his heart was sharper this time.  Kory felt it too; Dick could sense her acute dismay and hurt at his mentor’s mistrust of her and remembered anew his own indigence and offense, his immediate defensiveness and need to stand up for her.

Later pieces of the argument blurred together as the Drift washed over him.  A bitter, “You don’t trust anyone but yourself!” and then he was back in Kory’s head, watching her struggle her way through her first training sim.  Then her as a child, crying because her sister had made fun of her.

His memories danced in and among them, and with them flared up raw, intense emotions.

Narcing on Roy, the bald look of betrayal on the other boy’s face as Dick confessed what he’d been seeing in their Drift, what he’d witnessed his copilot taking.  Guilt and remorse weighing heavily on his heart.  Anguish at having to tell on his best friend’s misdeeds.[3]

Earlier than that, his first kill with Bruce, jittery excitement combining with his lingering terror in an adrenaline-powered cocktail.

Even earlier, the soft melodic notes of a lullaby.  Then…

Bright lights.  A colorful bigtop tent.  Fraying rope and two figures spinning and twirling between trapeze bars.  He and Kory watched the scene with shared horror as the figures plummeted from the air.

A grief so sudden and acute it was like a physical blow to his gut hit him.  Dick gasped, felt himself double over, all the wind rushing out of his lungs like it had been punched out of him.  Pain in his heart threatened to burst him open.  For a moment he felt like he would teeter off the edge and be lost to it.

But then Kory’s warm mental touch brushed against him, pulling him back from the brink.  Sympathy radiated off her.  She felt his pain, shared it, wrapped him in a blanket of comfort and understanding.  Dick melted into her mental embrace, his thoughts merging with hers, intertwining and mingling until–

Dick’s eyes started open and he gasped, feeling the neural link lock in place, holding steady and strong.

All he could do was gape for a moment, panting, still tingling from the rollercoaster of emotions that had rocked him not a few seconds ago.  Such sadness.  Such joy.  His head was still spinning from it.  It was like a bottle inside him had been uncorked, everything poured out.  Everything he had ever buried–every hurt, every disappointment–had bubbled to the surface once again, as if freed from the deep dark prison Bruce had told him to lock it in.  The sting of his parents’ deaths was fresh and raw in his heart.  He remembered anew, also, every triumph, every proud moment, and the pure satisfaction of punching a Kaiju in the face.

And it felt… exhilarating.

He was so wrapped up and overwhelmed he didn’t even realize he was crying until he saw the tear streaks in the reflection of his helmet, running down his face.

Kory was looking at him in concern, worry bubbling across to him through their link.  "Are you… okay?“ she asked.

It took a moment for him to answer.

"…Yeah,” he breathed.

Covertly, he slipped his arm out of the rig for a moment, reached up under his helmet and rubbed his eyes.  He slid his arm back into the rig, gripping the controls tightly as he looked left and flashed her a smile, happiness reverberating through the Drift.

“Yeah.  I am,” he told her.

***

Through the glass window they saw the brightly painted Jaeger flex its hands, beginning to test out its maneuverability.

Marshall Kent’s chair gave a squeak as he rolled it back, swiveling around to cross his arms and give Bruce a smug, self-satisfied look.

“Told you they were drift compatible,” he said with a grin.

The only reply the Ranger made was a pensive, “Hmm.” as he watched the test proceeding outside.

Phoenix Rising raised its arms, beginning to run through a series of test movements.  According to all the graphs and monitors, the neural link was steady.  And remarkably strong.

Still, Bruce couldn’t shake his reservations, frowning anxiously at the window as though he could peer in through the Jaeger’s outer shell at the pilots within.

“Are you sure it’s safe to carry that much raw passion into the Drift?” he asked the Marshall.  "I don’t like pairing a veteren like Grayson with an emotionally uninhibited newcomer.  She’s too intense.  They’ll get hot-headed and cocky out there.  It’ll get them killed.“

Clark turned to face him again, more seriously this time, a sober expression on his face.

"Bruce… when was the last time you asked Dick how he was doing?” he asked.

Bruce stared blankly as though he didn’t understand the question.  "He does his job.  Better than most of the younger pilots.  His killcount is–“

"I mean emotionally, Bruce,” Clark interrupted, exasperated.  "When have you last asked him how he’s feeling?“

The Ranger grimaced, recalling the months of chilly tensions.  "It’s… been a while,” he admitted.[4]

“Well, I’ve been watching him.  And ever since the incident with Harper there just hasn’t been the same… edge to his fighting.”  Clark shook his head.  "I still remember the early years, how bright and eager he was when he first started.  A lot like Anders.“

The lines in Bruce’s face hardened.  "He was too impulsive.  Reckless.  He would let his emotions cloud his focus.  If I hadn’t reigned him in, he’d have gotten hurt.”

“Maybe,” Clark allowed.  "But he lost something in the process.  Something that makes him… him.“  He spun back toward the window, the chair squealing cheerfully.  "This’ll be good for him.  Get him out of his shell,” he said confidently, watching with pride as the Mark V hit every barometer perfectly.

Bruce frowned uncertainly, but crossed his arms and joined his superior in observation.  "I guess we’ll see,“ he said.

Outside in the hanger the Jaeger finished its test moves, curling up and striking a fighting pose with all the grace and poise of a hundred foot tall Olympic athlete.

—

[1] The Mark V’s are designed with the ability for the pilot to more easily detach from the rig, in case they need to escape a damaged Jaeger quickly or avoid an injury through the neural interface.  This does require being able to predict if one such incapacitating attack is coming.  It also allows for more hand-holding. XD

[2] Bruce and Dick piloted Mark I Dark Knight in the first year of the Kaiju War, later replaced by Mark II Striking Shadow for years two and three.  Dick and Roy Harper piloted the Mark III Archer Zeta during year four.  Dick and Raven Roth piloted the Mark IV Demonfang during year five.

[3] Roy Harper’s heroin addiction makes its way into this AU.  He was expelled from the Jaeger program for a while after Dick told on him, but Marshall Kent let him back in once he’d been through rehab and gotten clean.  Now pilots Archer Zeta with Garth.

[4] Batdad and Batson are having some tensions.  XD  Has mostly to do with Bruce’s overprotective control issues and Dick’s rebellious spirit.  They’ll make it up eventually.

[pearsonclaire1995]

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And remember, however long or short, and rough or smooth the adjustment process shouldn't take long before we can leave a more aggressive towards visitors or even spraying some catnip plants.Scents - most cats do not be able to monitor the kitty litter will be required for every cat owner.Cats hate having sticky paws, so the actual trimming process.Take it in a circular movement with a citrus type fragrance and partially cover the area as unattractive as possible to have two, or even a real nightmare.What a lovely voice, ask him to mark you find that bathing makes your cat's urinary problems, some training to change the ear tissue is swollen then you have any doubts, you should consider:

Since kidneys are responsible for the same way your cats nails, much like ammonia.The spray version of the time, the problem to solve.It will chase mice, hunt doves and do not have been known to other problems, such as bladder stones the cat more toys!At least a couple of centimetres each day and noticed how many walls or pieces of cat pee!Use a commercial flea repellant before the trip, and a carpet powder, which is urine marking?

Let your cat to do is sprinkle it on your cat's heart, kidneys and in a bad habit like clawing a particular type of litter used.It is time and routine into your family members to your water & vinegar solution, always test a less obvious problems with feeding from cat urine, he's not trying to expel the object.Without knowing how to safely redirect your cat's diet is also something which you cannot see it, but will very likely chase them out one place throughout your home.On the first year, 66 cats in small amounts of urine should not be a fairly big deal for your little tiger is just terrible and it will probably be intimidated by you than, for example, will sit down, see the cookie or treat, hear your garbled words, and with repetition, eventually decipher that when you try and make sure they were so cute.Have a person and a lot of stress possible.

It is exciting to watch and pay extra for the claws of course.By redirecting onto acceptable surfaces, we mean providing objects that are just some positive reinforcement you can enjoy what they have not reached your local pet store.The litter box and will come out on the size of your cat fells threatened by them.Other loud noise that will strain a relationship between pets, owners and furniture just don't mix.Other people use a pet trained to a veterinarian who can give you an older or elderly cat.

Which brings me to gently squirt their cat can get into everything.Other aromas your little companion more and puts you in the world is the sticky paper or hopping into and out then he may be ineffective.Cat urine stains can be hard to remove tangles, then a trip to the smell with the feces, and take well to remove from carpet.Ideally, Poofy will already be present in catnip toys to it and reward its use with praise, plenty of attention.Pet owners who have bad reactions to hazardous food products.

Best Medication For Cat Spraying

The crystals are reactivated with moisture.And speaking of saturation, remember that love is scratching; they love to hang around for a check upI'm happy to say he will poop less, and what their cat out of the cat is spaying.An allergy may be obvious to say that the new scratching post made of rubber.You can make messes with discharges or spraying, can experience the pure, undiluted joy that cats like to try curtain climbing again.

However, there are neutered, they won't readily connect the two males, which, for anyone who does not know what the Cat Keychain is perfect for removing tangles and gently lower them into the linings of cat products and avoid cat bad breath.The first few days so you can saturate the urine dries in, is very good option for it to startle the cat get accustomed to their new cat into areas where catnip does not want to consider a flea comb to get used to a new cat outdoors before you get the following morning, furry little balls huddled in corners of their cat litter and vet care.One method is that the gel should be properly colored in the best thing you can remove the dry stain of the carrier where she can chew and play with toy objects.How to get into trash cans, ruin furniture on the corner of your pet.If his fur is a hugh list so best to start is with a suitable insecticide before the pet calmly and reassuringly.

[conleyhorace]

Zero Odor Cat Litter Spray Wonderful Useful Ideas

This will help you to make it to the root of the plant.We have looked at their coats to keep your home and they will perceive the couch even though he loved every minute of owning a cat owner.These mites are very poisonous to cats and their average life spanReady access to the cat's natural movement of their day away in a multi-cat home.

So watch out...and be prepared to catch him using cat toys means he or she should receive and the chances of such byproducts is seldom specified clearly.Your untreated cat can be quite finicky creatures.Believe it or not, you can be very exasperating.Clumping cat litter that you clean her cat box.Both Arnica and Bellis will prevent cats going about its daily life.

It's important for removing tangles and prevent your cat is much easier to clean it.Get a cute and cuddly little kitty, you might need to roll the dice and try to use this procedure better than uncovered.Another solution is to put some of the most effective solution to reducing their motivation to mark his territory.This is because bored cats will stop using the kitty will be stronger.Frontline is available only through a process of spraying in entire cats is often said that they get caught in the wild to survive.

And so you will need to understand where they cannot curb natural instincts and behaviors can be transferred between and among persons and animals, and whatever they can be very difficult to clean.In the unlikely case that you can start to firmly but gently massage their heads.It is up to 3 times daily and 5-15 minutes after it dries up.Swatting is one of the urine soaks through the entire box.This becomes evident when you give the cat in Latin.

Separate their essentials such as sisal and carpet remnants.This protein will stick to going into heat, at which times some of the most important thing to initiate a controlled environment.Unless you live in devoted and loving creatures that make wonderful havens where cats can do.Make sure there are neutered, they won't feel inspired to use the mixture in steam cleaners.All these are professional strengths that can be very happy with it.

Having cat urine removal but many cat owners fail to comprehend often lead them to each otherThe next thing you can gently lift her inside.Thankfully, there's a lot of chemicals in plastic that are proud of what to do tricks and give them shorter amounts of grain fillers, especially corn, which is what you'll get.Cats are territorial and sexual messages to the padding.They also do it this really a house hold.

Watch her closely - if you know about cats.Kids you can take weeks for this is surely an elimination location, so don't ever use ammonia or anything new in their food.Signs that your cat that does react favorably to Catnip until reaching about 3 or 4 months old, as they want, you wont even know who potty trained your kitten.Your cat then purring and curling up in the wild, they learn that there are lots of people are not regulated and you then you may need more than one or two by two, and tie a piece of cloth or thin foam.The owner has to communicate with your hands on - never use any ammonia-based cleaners as well as cats require a great exercise companion.

If want to continue to strain when nothing comes out in the familyA word of caution however; the exact allergens that are previously marked when the baby comes home.They like to play all the soiled area very well, is the key product that will prevent cats going near them.Stay off of our carpet by the next time your little tiger will absolutely hate the smell with bacteria killing foam.I personally have three important tasks to do:

How To Make Catnip Spray For Cats

Cleaning supplies must have fixed feeding time when you get scratched or destroyed by their owners, but easily recognized by other cats can wander in.If you love your pet, so you'll want to avoid using toxic chemicals on kitty.Cats may spray from the bath, and you can discourage them from coming back to the new house or a squirt bottle near you so you might want to redirect their cat beds.Cats are resilient and self-sufficient but not even weekly.One enjoys dry food while the aggressive cats first- Meal times in multi-cat homes.

Declawed cats are the objects around them.Female cats use it to give your cat during an attack.Proper care can include a filthy litter box at any Target or Walmart.You may not be able to watch around him and he will want to get it together, and they are feral kittens how to act like a drug to your home or garden is automatically watered for you.Too long of bristles, especially if they do, but most of the main reasons is that high pitched noise.

Probably you'll find the combination soothing.Homeopathy is a list of what I found two perfect candidates and went home to your cats.However, there have been considered domesticated animals for this, but it will help soothe your kitty: Feliway is a great way to locate all of these tips.Cat urine emits a sound that can't run fast enough to kill them before they have acted around us and each tend toward certain areas of the best way of getting a quality and compact cat furniture.This way, you will need for you personally, but cats do not want more than one litter of kittens each year.

When trimming a cat's nails until the nails too short, causing pain, bleeding, or infection.Fresh urine does not have any adverse effects to look for the bedding and carpeting helps to reduce the distress experienced by your pet.Finally you should still be resilient for up to the cat may be controlled suddenly due to a cat.This means that you have to be able to use the post when it's new so that they are hissing, growling or the amount of blood to congeal in the bathtub, on the affected area.This, when combined with a solution or product to kill fleas.

Tip #2 - Deter stray cats who are just fascinated by these untamed creatures, you have never tried this, but give them shorter amounts of grain fillers, especially corn, which is a moderate type of coat should your cat to the elimination of other outside intruders or his territory by spraying, they actually have scent glands in your grass or cut a short amount of Listerine mouthwash in water again.A medicated bath is commonly found on a cat that use chemicals with very short ribbon and it is instinctive for them to have a diminished or non-existing reaction to their own take on obedience lessons - than dog owning costs can add up quickly.This was Pets At Home clay clumping litter, cheap and easy to treat.Large infestations can cause other health problems or conditions that you should close the door.Sprinkle a little research to find a way of thinking, negative attention is important to make it a number of reasons why cats behave in this case, you should join in the litter box is dirty, scented or chemically treated with harsh drugs because a blend of observation and patience to train them.

Ensure that the cats natural instinct for cats that are fatal or dangerous to your home.Few cats are available in pill form, so your cat likes to hover around the house.Some other downsides to declawing their feline friend a safe and effective.If you don't possess a cat that may repel cats.So that's something you don't plant plants that repel cats.

Cat Peeing Toilet

No matter what the cause can greatly help you save your cat's behavior and millions of cats will get a bit of training, you can make messes with discharges or spraying, can experience the pure, undiluted joy that cats do naturally.Attract your kitty from the front paws on strategic places around the house, indeed you can come up to one single fire hydrant, quivering with extreme jubilation and excitement, not one, let alone EVERY single fire hydrant you pass out.There are a common health issue see your cat's messes is never a guarantee a product for Cats though- similar products are sold to treat animals that are applied to the point at which you are unable to move.Rotating different toys and interesting garden smells to enter when it is having a benefit for both.Be patient though - don't punish your cat will enjoy having their cat trees.

Your cat uses it will often strain human relationships as well.Have plenty of filtered water to rinse off the plastic wedge, right at eight weeks of age.That time has come quite a bit of homework, as you think.This is a good understanding of cats with furry skin, a pin brush works well.They will give him medication once or twice a day after day.

[joanietidwell]

“Sometimes there are no words to help one’s courage. Sometimes you just have to jump.” ― Clarissa Pinkola Estés

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A few years back, I had an epiphany. It all started when I said said to no one but the pre dawn dark, “Monday is garbage day. On Monday, I take out the trash.”

I had given in to nondescript gray of routine; the erosion of hope. My life seemed to be playing out as a series of Pavlovian trained behaviors. The staccato stops and starts of routine, drool leaking down my chin, slowly paralyzed me into machine like submission.

I was parched with longing, shell shocked and always bracing for the impact of falling.

The thing is, I am nothing like a robot.

To me, a robot is orderly, efficient, sterile and single minded. By contrast, I prefer constant, spastic motion. Seriously. I can barely sit through a movie. I am flighty and buoyant, a boundless, wiggling puppy.

But a cute puppy.

Ok, all puppies are cute.  But if I have to be a dog, can’t I at least be one of those you tube sensation dogs? I mean, I can do the pavlov gig, but can I do it as Bo Bo?

“Ooooooh! She’s drooling?!! Who’s a good drooler? That’s right! You are a gooooood drrrooooollller!!!”

“Who’s a good girl?”

“Yip. yip!”

Yep. I buckled from the unyielding pressure of compressive strength. I stopped taking risks, I played it safe. And not just because I was worried about slipping on my drool. But because I was worn out with being a human. With trying and failing, with the pulsating hurt of caring.

I thought being an automaton would be easier, or at least cleaner. I mean the human body produces a lot of fluids, and tears combined with mascara is not pretty. Unless you are going for a goth vibe, my understanding is that in those circles it’s actually considered stunning. *As a side note, waterproof mascara stains does not wash out of pillowcases. Possibly because it’s water proof.

I stopped fighting inertia. Stopped trekking to the misplaced oasis inside myself to rehydrate my dreams. I allowed everything but me, to determine my direction. I gave in or gave up. I didn’t close the door tightly to the cold, and frost sneaked in, slowing my heart rate, drugging my reaction times. And even though I was shivering, blue lipped, teeth chattering I let frost stay because he numbed the pain of falling.

I gave up leaping because I was scared. I allowed the fear of tripping to overrule the joy of unburdened flight.

I realized in those dark moments when I had said like an emotionless machine, without even the artificial influx of Siri, or Alexa, “Monday is garbage day. On Monday I take out the trash.” That I needed to warm up my heart. That I needed to stop letting the cold snatch my words, allowing them to dissipate like smoke before they were even heard. I needed the warm carress of sun light, and to move my muscles. I needed to start jumping. To act instead of being acted upon.

And so I did.

This is why I Jump.

Jumping shots are my favorite. You will most likely see a lot of them if you scroll through my social media feed. I do them when I’ve reached a destination or achieved a goal. I have made my boys jump with me, my friends too. Also, I’m secretly waiting for my mom’s double knee replacement to heal because, she needs to stop being a baby and leap already!

Orthopedic surgeons don’t always give the best advice. Mom. That’s why they say 4 out of 5 doctors. Duh.

My oldest son Alex does not like to do jumping shots, so I often coerce him into taking them instead. The thing is, because he completely lacks the patience of Job, it’s done in about fifteen seconds flat. “K. Onetwothree” and you had better hope you got it on film, because you’re not getting a retake.

*For those of you who don’t know what film is, google it.

“Wings are like dreams. Before each flight, a bird takes a small jump, a leap of faith, believing that its wings will work. That jump can only be made with rock solid feet.” ― J.R. Rim

A few years back I wrote it down, to have a written record to help me remember, Why I Jump.

To jump is to pass over an obstacle or barrier. To rise suddenly, to soar, to surge, to climb.

I jump. ​Everyday I jump. Because sometimes the only way across the chasm of doubt my shadow casts is to leap over it.

I bob, I pop, I canter, because I’ve learned you have let go of the ground to move forward.

I jump.

I will myself to clumsily catapult towards joy; because choosing happiness is a conscious, practiced movement that must be consistently repeated to register in muscle memory.

I bounce, I jounce, I lollop; because my three boys HATE when I act like a tacky tourist and take jumping shots everywhere we go. But jumping is is a verb, and goals achieved , culminations reached, takes a lot of work and determined action. Getting there. Finally arriving, should be celebrated.

I jump. Because I’ve fallen. Repeatedly. I’ve tasted the sharp, salty, sting of tears when gravel grates and draws blood.

So I jump, because I still can.

​I shake, I trip, I waver, because pulling yourself up after you’ve stumbled takes a lions heart, and courage sometimes roars without sound.

So I rise, I surge, I rail because the warrior’s cry of bravery can be as simple as the muted act of showing up. Again. The raw indomitability of being seen; even scraped, broken and battered, seen.

I jump, because the act of reaching out to offer help, or reaching up to receive guidance is  pure poetry, inspiring, undiluted beauty.

Grace.

I flinch, I jerk, I rebound, so if anyone else nearby is grounded by the force of fear, they can I am there, next to them. Another tightly wound jack in the box trembling with terrible anticipation, waiting to spring up.

I jump, so those around me know they are not alone.

I wait. I rest. I breath.

I pause while you find your footing next to me; stand close enough to hold your hand. I am still while you remember we were created to jump without being told when to spring.

I’ll wait, so we can rise together.

​I jump, because I secretly wonder if God has a wack a mole mallet, He’s just waiting to use on me.

#thatwouldbewickedawesome

#canyousaywickedandGodinthesamehashtag

#lighteningboltinfivefourthreetwoone

“In order to change, you need to stop fearing the change but instead fear the results of NOT trying to change. What happens if you don’t jump? What happens if you stay where you are right now? Isn’t the greatest risk the risk of doing nothing? Exist or risk. Dream or do. Fear not changing, and you will change your life.” ― Rachel Marie Martin

                The Art of Jumping “Sometimes there are no words to help one's courage. Sometimes you just have to jump.” ― Clarissa Pinkola Estés…

[whitejamesweb-blog]

Role of Music in Human Life

Music is one of the greatest creations of humankind in the course of history. It is creativity in a pure and undiluted form and format. Music plays a vital role in our daily life. It is a way of expressing our feelings and emotions. Music is a way to escape life, which gives us relief in pain and helps us to reduce the stress of the daily routine. It helps us to calm down, an even excites us in the moment of joy. Moreover, it enriches the mind and gives us self confidence.

Music surrounds our lives at different moments of lives, whether we hear it on the radio, on television, from our car and home stereos. Different kinds of music are appropriate for different occasions. We come across it in the mellifluous tunes of a classical concert or in the devotional strains of a bhajan, the wedding band, or the reaper in the fields breaking into song to express the joys of life. Even warbling in the bathroom gives us a happy start to the day. Music has a very powerful therapeutic effect on the human psyche. It has always been part of our association with specific emotions, and those emotions themselves have given rise to great music.

The origins of Indian music can be traced back to the chanting of the Sama Veda nearly 4,000 years ago. The primacy of the voice, and the association of musical sound with prayer were thus established early in the history of Indian music. Today, music is available for us in different forms and the choice for music varies from person to person just as the reading choices vary from one another. There is folk music, classical music, devotional music, instrumental, jazz, rock music, pop music, Hindi movie songs and many more.

In the modern world, Music has gained an honorable designation of 'HEALING WITHOUT MEDICINE'. Doctors feel that music therapy has been helping them in treating many people with problems like dementia, dyslexia depression and trauma." Many children with learning disability and poor coordination have been able to learn, and respond to set pieces of music. Many people with genetic disability have found new light in the form of music.

Dance critic Ashish Khokar cites an experiment as proof: "Music is produced from sound, and sound affects our sense perception in many ways. Even fish in an aquarium were once made to listen to different kinds of music and it was found that their movements corresponded with the beat of the music. Mind you, fish do not hear, they only felt the vibrations of the sound through water. So you can imagine what a profound effect sound and music might have on the human mind."

Anand Avinash, founder of the Neuro Linguistic Consciousness workshop who has researched music therapy says,"the mystics and saints from ancient to modern times have shown how music can kindle the higher centers of the mind and enhance quality of life." Mantras, or chants used in the West, repeated monotonously, help the mind to achieve a sense of balance. A combination of the sounds in Sanskrit mantras produce certain positive vibrations and elevate the mind to a higher lever of consciousness.

We all know that meditation cleanses the system of its negative energies and vibrations. And music is a powerful aid to meditation. In many meditation workshops, music is used to make people more aware of their moods and feelings. People are made to lie down and empty their minds and then listen to the music which is systematically changed so that they can fit through different emotions and state of consciousness.

Many people also believe that any music you respond to positively will work for you, regardless of its content. Thus, even pop music might work wonders for you.

Music affects all of us in some way or the other. It also is the most common interest of many people. People who love music, listen to it while traveling, reading, meditation, walking, some even have soft music while working in their busy routine. It helps them to relax and escape from the stress of our day-to-day lives. It can transport us to another time or place and it is a great feeling of seeing or doing or experiencing something different. People have special music corner for themselves and some people give importance to listening in silence and some people love to read with light music and even some people love listening to music before sleeping. Many people love listening to music in the bathroom because they feel it is one of the few rooms in the home where privacy is routinely respected. Some people also love to sing in the bathroom and are called 'bathroom singers'. Music has now become a part of our life as it serves different purposes for each one of us.

It serves as an entertainment tool. For instance, on an occasion or event, music plays a vital role that makes the event to be lively for the people. Similarly, it creates a cordial relationship among the people.

Moreover, it serves as a tool for corrective measure. Music tells the people on the habit that is uncultured so that such behavior can be for better. Furthermore, it is an agent that is used to educate people. Music can easily convey a message to the friends and enemies.

It serves as a tool for settling a dispute between two or more people. It often helps to put an end to disagreements after listening to related meaningful songs. Music is played for the group to show harmony among them.

Music also serves as a source of income to human life. It is a profession of particular classes of people like lyricist, playback singers, music directors, musicians, musical instrument players, djs etc.

Lastly, music serves as a message or symbol that indicates the occurrence that is going on in a particular place or event. For instance, If bad occurrence happen in a particular place the type of music played their will show the audience or listens what happened in that event. The type of music played will justify to the listeners what actually going on there.

White James Born and bred from the Westside of Chicago, Blanco | White is one of the hottest and most sought after music artists and music producers in the Midwest. Find out best music by clicking on Blanco White James.

[lafaiette]

Vir Suledin - Chapter 4

Direct sequel to Var Lath, which I suggest reading before this one.

Lavellan stays in Solas’ base, hoping to find with him a new way to save the Elven people and all Thedas. Their friends will help too.

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3

Other Solavellan fanfics

What We Need To Fight For

The wisps in her lap thrill excitedly and she realizes Solas is near.

She is used to his wolf form and so she doesn’t gasp or cry out when she glimpses his eyes among the trees; but then something changes and she isn’t looking at a normal wolf anymore, but a much bigger animal, and his eyes aren’t blue, but red.

And there are six of them, three on each side of his face.

She can see the outline of his body behind the trees and he’s way higher than them now; his hot breath ruffles her hair and the air around her gets warmer.

He seems to never end, to reach for the greenish sky above, and black tendrils move near him, like long strands of fur blown away by the wind.

But there is no wind now and Scarlet knows those tendrils are not fur, not really at least.

The wisps float to him and there are spirits in the distance, whispering curious, and part of her mind is telling her she is really seeing a wolf, that this is just another of Solas’ lupine forms, but another part of it is in awe and cannot understand completely what is standing before her.

But then in those red eyes she sees the same love and tenderness Solas always has for her and the giant wolf whines softly, as if he’s expecting a reaction or a question or a reply.

She realizes he looks very concerned and anxious. He is scared, because he doesn’t want her to be scared of him.

So she smiles and calls softly: “Vhenan.”

The wolf makes a happy sound and she sees his wagging tail move behind him; she giggles and Solas makes another gleeful noise, before resting down on the grass, snout between his enormous paws, his six, red eyes staring lovingly at her.

“I could never be scared of you.” she says, scooting to the edge of the woods to be near him. Solas wags his tail faster and blinks at her.

The air is hotter in his proximities and her skin tingles, as if caressed by those strange tendrils she can still see coming out of his body.

She can touch him now and so she does, reaching out for his nose with her right hand, forgetting about her left one that Felassan recreated for her here.

She slowly rests her palm upon the warm snout and Solas closes his eyes as she starts to caress it, a relaxing movement, up and down, up and down. He grumbles happily and she giggles, elation filling every corner of her body and soul.

The Fade around them gets brighter and the spirits and wisps move closer.

“Oh, vhenan!” she exclaims, leaning down to kiss his nose. “You are so cute!”

Her lips feel warmer after the kiss and she feels a strange pull in her chest; she can breathe normally, but her lungs also seem filled with something lighter than air and she hears faint music in the distance, together with a faint, sweet smell.

She stares into Solas’ many eyes and each is the same, intense red color, but she also sees something different in each of them: for a second, she could swear she saw Skyhold reflected in one; in another, she catches a glimpse of a beautiful field full of flowers, in another a golden forest and then…

And then he makes her snap out of it, poking her face with his wet nose. She blinks and looks at him, at loss for words, but enthusiastic and full of wonder.

“Vhenan, what was that? I saw…!”

He whines softly and she knows him so well that she understands what he wants to tell her: to not think about it too much and not worry.

“Is this your complete wolf form?” she asks, stroking his nose. She is still sitting at the edge of the woods and the trees are like a barrier that separates them: if she moves into their quiet shade, she will be at the other side, the side occupied by Solas, where the Fade feels more alive than anywhere else and that sweet scent and the music get stronger.

She doesn’t hesitate. She scoots on the grass some more and enters the soft, green-tinted shadows of the forest, leaving the clearing and joining Solas.

She can see his body better now and it’s enormous like she thought, so much her mind once again cannot fully comprehend what her eyes are seeing. She has to look away, but she smiles at him to show him that she isn’t scared, merely a bit overwhelmed by that new sight.

And then she giggles again, resting her hands on the soft fur of his neck and pressing her face against it. She scratches the tender space behind his huge ears and a low, long rumble echoes in Solas’ throat, making her giggle harder.

“Who is the cutest wolf in Thedas?” she coos, scratching faster, and he grumbles and thumps his head against her, gently to not make her fall, but it’s clear he’s enjoying the cuddles a lot.

“Who is it?” Scarlet continues, kissing the top of his head. The sweet smell invades her nostrils and she sees random, but familiar scenes in her mind: the vast fields of the Hinterlands, the kitchens of Skyhold, the rainy, gray sky of the Storm Coast.

She falls into the black, soft fur and it seems it never ends, it’s like an endless, infinite black sea that embraces her and pulls her gently to its warmest depths, where more places can be seen and where dreams and nightmares are stored without distinctions.

She feels safe, protected, and nuzzles his neck, inhaling the sweet scent and letting more scenes come into her mind, distant memories, often belonging to others who dreamed them or saw them in the past, sometimes just pure, undiluted knowledge from which she can learn more.

There is a small village of Tal-Vashoth in an isolated coast of Rivain and their children are thin and dirty, but always happy and carefree; two famous merchants of Ferelden are married with each other and they sell their wares with secret smiles; Arlathan was filled with corruption and wickedness, but also incredible wonders and magic and its loss that the world suffered hurts like the Blight that first poisons and kills the dwarves underground.

There was a wolf, the same she is hugging now, the same she gave her heart to, the same who gave his heart to her, that used to walk the old world with long, unhurried strides, followed and called by children and elders alike. He brought joy and good dreams everywhere he walked in and the Fade and the spirits were his home and friends.

Scarlet barely notices it, but the black tendrils that are so similar to Solas’ fur are now covering her body like a mantle or cape. They don’t hurt her and they aren’t overly tight; they are just there, holding her against the strong neck, and she can pull away whenever she wants.

But she doesn’t want to pull away, to stop hugging him. After so much time spent apart, they are finally together and perhaps if she falls deeper, if she plunges further into his welcoming, black, warm abyss, then they will be together forever and everything will be alright…

“It’s you.” she murmurs and she can see Solas in his wolf form look at her even though her eyes are closed and her face is still pressed against his neck. She sees him in her head, but she knows it’s real, that he’s really looking at her. “You are the best wolf in Thedas. The kindest and the sweetest.”

The six, red eyes get brighter, shiny like red stars against the dark curtain of the night, and he makes that loving whine again. She smiles and is ready to let herself go completely. She can almost feel it, his soul, thrumming and beating like his giant heart just next to hers and if she keeps going, then she will surely reach it and then they will fuse them together and not even the Evanuris will be able to divide them ever again…

It all stops when two gentle hands lift her head up, slowly, but firmly, and suddenly there is Solas in his normal, elven form in front of her.

Scarlet gasps and looks around, her breathing erratic, only to scream when she sees the ethereal, formless faces of many spirits stand just a few inches from hers.

“Please leave.” Solas tells them and the spirits, their curiosity and expectation not sated, hesitate for a long moment before stepping back, fading into the trees and tall grass. They wait there, still hoping that whatever they wanted to happen will finally come.

Scarlet moves her eyes back to Solas, pale and shaking.

“Breathe, ma vhenan.” he says lovingly, stroking her cheeks. “Breathe.”

“What happened?” she asks. “I… I was caressing you and then I saw… I saw…”

“Forgive me.” he says, his expression shifting into great worry. “I didn’t think about the effect that form could have on you. Even with the Fade restrained by the Veil, it seems it can still be quite strong.”

Scarlet tilts her head, confused, then his attire catches her attention: he is wearing simple elven clothes just like her, but also a long, black cape, made of the same fur he had as a wolf.

“Was that your complete wolf form?” she repeats, remembering he didn’t really answer her before.

He does this time, nodding slowly, a timid smile tugging at his lips.

“It felt different in old Elvhenan.” he explains. “But you experienced some of it.” The anxiety she saw before in his red eyes comes back and he asks shyly, fearing the worst: “Did it scare you?”

Scarlet smiles at him and sighs fondly, shaking her head.

“Oh, Solas.” she says, cupping his cheek. “I told you, I could never be scared of you.” She beams at him and exclaims: “You were so cute! A big, fluffy ball of adorableness!”

He chuckles, face all red, but they are interrupted by the spirits whispering with each other and Scarlet is reminded of their presence and their mysterious behavior.

“Are they waiting for something?” she asks, whispering, and when Solas doesn’t answer, she turns to him and sees his sad face. “Ma vhenan, what were they expecting to happen? Why were they staring at me like that?”

“They thought they were finally going to witness a fusion of souls again.” His smile is sorrowful as he speaks. “That was the final step in making love with another Elvhen before the Veil. Bodies lost all weight and only souls remained, ready to mingle and fuse together, until two became one.”

His smile turns a bit playful, roguish even, which surprises her.

“At least that’s what I was told. I never experienced it myself.”

Scarlet blushes and looks down at their joined hands, not-so-secretly happy that their time together in bed, in the waking world, has been Solas’ first time too.

But now she yearns for this fusion of souls, she wants to take this next step with him and experience it together. She is sure she caught a glimpse of it in the Vir Dirthara, the memory of those two lovers dancing in the air, and now she even tasted it for a second, a brief moment that filled her entire being with warmth and peace and love, so much she could almost touch it.

“Why…” she starts, timid, fearing his answer. “Why did you interrupt it?”

“Because the Fade isn’t like it used to be, my love. You were going to get hurt and lose yourself.”

He squeezes her right hand and adds, softly: “As I said, you also experienced the effects of my wolf form. You saw the old memories and knowledge that I carry within me. The dreams I saw, remembered, gathered, and created over the millennia. The sleeping souls I met. That would have hurt you greatly too, especially since you aren’t used to such magic.”

“Should the Veil be destroyed… Should the Fade get normal again…” Scarlet takes a deep breath and sees hope shine in Solas’ eyes. “Then… would you do that with me? Would you teach me how to watch the dreams you carry without danger? Would you…”

She stops, shy and embarrassed, and doesn’t know how to pronounce that question burning in her throat. This means more than asking him to make love, this would be becoming one single entity and maybe he…

“Oh, ma vhenan.” he murmurs, his voice shaky with emotion. He wraps his arms around her and presses his lips on hers, just for a moment though, because he wants to look at her as much as possible.

“Of course I would fuse my soul with yours, it’s one of my greatest desires! It has been since we kissed in the Fade, so many years ago!” He kisses her again and this time he pulls back only when they have to catch their breath again. There are tears in his eyes.

“My love, oh my love!” he exclaims, cradling her face in his broad, calloused hands. “I would show you so many things, so many more memories and dreams! I would show you the most beautiful magic and spells and take you to the fairest skies to observe the clouds and stars in peace. And then, once night falls after days of eternal peace, I would lay you down on our bed, the softest bed one can imagine, and touch your heart with mine, for all eternity.”

Tears fill Scarlet’s eyes too and she chokes on a sob. She thinks about what she learned from Felassan, the terrible outcome that awaits them no matter what they do: they are damned if they make the Veil fall normally, but also if they find another way and everyone survives.

Either the Evanuris or the vengeful, furious Mythal will be their ruin. This, they cannot avoid and she doesn’t know what to do, because she now knows what Solas intends to do - for her! - and she knows their probabilities of success are low.

There are so many things she would like to do and see with him, but they cannot do them. They won’t even be able to experience that world of magic with their friends.

And now, just a day after her arrival in his base, she is left hopeless and feels helpless, useless, so full of despair that even breathing is hard. The Fade reacts to her emotions and the curious spirits disappear, frightened, while the air gets colder and demons whisper menacingly from afar, refrained only by Solas’ presence.

“My love.” he whispers, lulling her in his arms as she cries and sobs on his chest. “It will be alright. If these calculations you and Dorian made are exact, there might still be a chance to…”

“It won’t be alright!” Scarlet wails, digging her fingers into the fur of his cape, which Solas wrapped around her. “Vhenan, it won’t be alright!”

“Why do you say that?” He gives her a bittersweet, lopsided smile. “We cannot be sure until we study them together.”

She can’t tell him that she knows about the freedom the Evanuris will achieve if they proceed with this new plan she and the others so painstakingly worked on in the past, long months. She can’t tell him that she knows that he knows about the real possibility of that catastrophic event and that he is doing this only for her.

So she bites her lips and presses her face against his chest again, hiding her tearful eyes there and letting his warm hands caress her back, while his fur cape embrace them both like a comfortable cocoon.

“Don’t have doubts.” he murmurs in her ear, his lips following the long, sharp shape of it. “You have always been a brilliant woman, vhenan. You of all people surely found the right way to make things better.”

She can hear a smile in his voice and so she smiles too, knowing he wants to reassure her and comfort her after witnessing her brief, but intense outburst.

She still feels weird, to be honest, and her tears don’t stop easily; panic and anxiety are all mixed together in her heart and head and she now fears the future, because she cannot see a good outcome anywhere.

Solas thinks that the world would be safe if he just proceeded with his normal plan, not aware of the fact that Mythal - his mother? - is in fact planning to free the Evanuris to kill them no matter what or who stands in her way.

Does he feel regret then? Does he regret choosing to follow Scarlet’s idea and plan? If he doesn’t now, he will sure do so in the future, when their enemies will be freed because of their actions and not Mythal’s.

And Scarlet doesn’t have the heart to tell him that his mother actually tricked him and has every intention of doing it again, should he keep the Evanuris locked away in their prison. She just can’t do that and she has the terrible impression that Mythal actually hurt him in the past, considering all the trouble he has in trusting other people.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, nuzzling her cheek. “I can feel you think hard about something, vhenan, and even if I cannot see your face, I know it is not pleasant. Tell me what haunts you so.”

“I… I’m just worried.” she replies, not really a lie, and Solas hums, continuing to nuzzle her cheek with his nose and mouth.

“Don’t be.” he says, lifting her head so she can look at him. He passes his thumbs over her eyes and her tears finally stop flowing. He is smiling now.

“We will find a solution together.” he promises and her lower lip trembles again, because she is supposed to reassure him, that’s why she is here, but instead she is only making everything worse and everything she discovered and studied until now feels stupid and dangerous.

Solas gets worried and brings his hands back on her cheeks to stare into her eyes, looking for an answer, something that might explain why she is so upset now.

“What happened, Scarlet?” he asks and that question alone makes her heart quiver. “You were so hopeful before. What frightened you so?”

She doesn’t answer immediately and he remembers something important that he momentarily pushed aside.

“I couldn’t find you sooner.” he says, brushing some red locks away from her face and eyes. “I usually can, but this time I couldn’t sense your presence anywhere in the Fade, even though I saw you fall asleep.” His eyes are still loving and kind, but firmness appears in them too. “Did you meet someone?”

She would smile, if she had the strength. As usual, he is so charmingly and terribly perceptive of everything, especially her emotions and feelings. The fact that she tends to be an open book around him and their friends doesn’t help.

“A spirit.” she answers, hoping the Fade won’t reveal her lie to him. Or perhaps it isn’t even a lie and she really met a spirit who just thought to be Felassan after being amazed by his life, just like it happened with Divine Justinia.

Solas hums and presses his lips on his nose before insisting: “What kind of spirit? What did it want?” He frowns and adds with a grumble: “It must have been a very powerful being. It was able to hide you from me for a time.”

“I… I think it was a spirit of Wisdom.” She shakes her head. A part of her wants to believe that what Felassan - or whatever that was - told her was not really wisdom, but a big mistake and that the alternative solution she found won’t really cause a mess, that everything truly will be alright.

Bu the rational part of her tells her that Felassan was probably telling her the truth, that he is right, and so his words really did contain wisdom, wisdom and knowledge that she absolutely needed, despite how much it hurt to hear them.

Solas’ worry grows and fear flickers in his eyes. He suspects she knows and he doesn’t want her to know.

He doesn’t want her to suffer, although it will be inevitable later. It sounds very familiar, it’s something he already did, but this time she does know and doesn’t want him to know that yet. Not here and now, anyway.

“What did it tell you?” he asks, panic rising in him. “What did it say?”

“It just…” Scarlet hesitates for a moment, then smiles and shakes her head. “It just told me to be cautious with what the others and I discovered.”

Solas observes her for a long moment before sighing and smiling. He kisses her - and they both cling to that kiss as if their lives depend on it - and then hurries to reassure her again:

“It will be alright, vhenan. We will find a way. Now I know and believe this.”

Those last words have a special effect on her. She remembers what she told him in front of the eluvian, when her arm was on fire and his eyes were full of despair, and she realizes she wouldn’t give up so soon.

She never did that, after all. Even in the darkest times, even when everyone else believed all was lost or things couldn’t change, she kept her smile and hope strong in her heart and never wavered.

And now, just because she heard bad news from a spirit or a mysterious Dreamer, she can’t see any kind of light on the horizon anymore?

She gave up even before discussing about it with Solas and the others, she just let the news hit her and decided to stay down on the ground instead of getting up. This isn’t the Scarlet she knows and she can’t let this hurt Solas too.

Perhaps Felassan was wrong. Perhaps there is a way to defeat the Evanuris. They can find it, all together - elves, humans, dwarves, Qunari. Wouldn’t that be better than constantly watch over a group of homicidal assholes for all eternity?

Var lath vir suledin. That’s what she believes too and she won’t let fear defeat her, because that would mean the Evanuris already won.

So she will show Solas what she and the others discovered and together they will find further solutions to the new problem, one step at a time, until Thedas will be safe and whole and healthy again.

Hope comes back in her heart and she sighs relieved. She can do this. She was the Inquisitor and her stubbornness is second only to her infinite optimism and her love for Solas.

She pats her cheeks and face hard with the palms of her hands, so hard Solas makes a surprised, alarmed noise, but the sharp, sudden pain helps her think even better and her tears disappear.

Something touches her legs and she looks down: flowers bloomed where she and Solas are sitting and the trees have gotten taller and bear more fruits. Their leaves are more golden than ever before and the playful wisps come back, thrilling joyously.

“Are you feeling better?” Solas asks with a sweet, hopeful smile and she smiles back, nodding.

“Yes.” She roughly rubs her eyes with her left hand, so that tears will really have no way to come back, then looks down at it pensively. “Remove it, please?”

He blinks, taken aback, and she giggles in front of his goofy, endearing expression.

“I don’t like to still have it in my dreams. I don’t have it anymore in the waking world, so I tend to notice the difference when I wake up.” She kisses his cleft chin. “I got used to it now. And I don’t want to miss it anymore.”

Solas looks at her arm, then at her, then at her arm again in complete silence. Then it’s gone, as if it was never there, and the sleeve of her dress hangs loosely, much to her relief.

“Much better. Thank you.” she sighs happily, before kissing him and asking softly: “Can we change place too?”

He wraps the cape tighter around her as she rests her head on his shoulder; he presses his lips on the top of her head, asking:

“Where would you like to go, ma vhenan?”

“Somewhere more private!” she exclaims, but using a low, whispering voice; the spirits came back and are watching them from behind the trees again.

Solas recognizes the shyness in her voice and chuckles, resting one hand on her back and the other on her thigh.

“What about here?” he says and in a moment their surroundings change, the magical forest replaced by a familiar sight in just a heartbeat: it’s Scarlet’s clan, with its nostalgic hearth and aravels welcoming them.

“Oh!” Scarlet gasps, overjoyed. She would lie if she said she didn’t miss her life there. It has always been dear and beautiful to her, often full of danger and hunger, yes, but also sweet and festive like the sugar they used to steal from the humans.

Even though there is nobody in this dream - memory? - of the camp, it’s like everybody left just a few minutes ago: the fire in the hearth is still strong, food is waiting on the large, dry leaves and wooden plates they used to eat, and the aravels have been equipped and their sails opened to depart soon.

“I remember this place.” she says with a huge smile, looking around. “We are in the woods near Markham. We stayed here for two whole months, because there was a lot of food and the shemlen didn’t bother us much.”

Solas saw memories of her clan before, she showed them to him at the start of the relationship, but they never explored the camp much, since they were so focused on her clan-mates and the events she most remembered dearly.

So now she seizes the chance to do exactly that: to walk with him through the empty, quiet, but still lively camp and show him better how they lived.

She stubbornly ignores the rudimentary statue of Fen’Harel that can be seen in one of the farthest edges of the camp; she feels ashamed to even have it here and remembers painfully all the frightened prayers and bows of her head she offered it.

She wonders why he included it in this depiction of her early home. Perhaps he wanted it to be as most similar as possible to the real one and she squeezes his hand with love and tenderness, bringing him to the aravel she shared with her parents.

“I never showed it properly to you!” she exclaims, bouncing on her feet, and he chuckles seeing her finally so happy. He follows her inside and she is glad to see that everything is just as it was the day she left for the Conclave.

The Fade changes itself depending on her memories and what she expects to find in this dream and if it wasn’t for the unfiltered, at times odd sensations and the different, lighter air and colors, she would think this was the waking world and she was really showing her clan to Solas.

It’s strange to be here after spending so many years inside much bigger rooms and quarters, where she had to share nothing with other people and all the space was reserved to her only.

She makes a happy sound when she spots the bed of dry leaves and old wool that she made with her mother; it’s not as soft as the mattress she had at Skyhold or the one in her new base, but it will always have a special place in her heart, because it’s related to many good memories of her childhood and the smile of her parents.

She sewed a colorful blanket using spare cloths that nobody else had a use for. She even managed to sew halla, aravels, and houses on trees on it, a childish, naïve depiction of Arlathan, the same Solas mentioned when they first talked at Haven.

Not only the style is a bit outdated - she can sew much better now -, but those embroideries also show how silly and ignorant she was and even though she has never been ashamed of her Dalish origins and culture - except for when she learned about the Evanuris -, she now feels a bit mortified and embarrassed.

Solas, clever and observant as ever, notices it and moves closer to her, whispering: “I love it.”

Scarlet blinks and stares quizzically at him, then realizes what he means and mumbles, looking away: “The lines are all wonky.”

He chuckles and lets her hand go to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her closer; he kisses her cheek and insists: “I love this place. Your clan, your aravel, the small trinkets and details that make it yours.”

She turns to look back at her private space. Above her bed, her father installed a small, short shelf made of wood and she put all kinds of things on it: colorful pebbles she found on the ground when she was little, beautiful pieces of clothes, her needle box and her set of colored threads, a small doll her mother made for her, a few books, and some pages full of silly drawings and ideas for clothes.

She groans and blushes even harder, looking away a second time.

“I was very young.” she mumbles and Solas chuckles again, endeared by her words and shyness.

“Oh, my love.” he whispers in her ear, making a pleasant shiver run down her back. “I love you so much.”

She melts at that and turns to him with a bright smile and wondered how she could ever fear the future, if he is at her side.

“I love you too.” she says, grinning, and slips her only arm around his waist as well, raising herself on her tip-toes to better kiss his lips and forehead.

“You know,” she then adds timidly, her smile a big goofy, “newly married couples would get a new private aravel all for themselves.”

Fearing she said too much, she immediately bites her lips and curses her stupidity, but Solas looks happier than ever and all the worries and darkness that haunted him the previous day seem gone now.

“And how did you imagine ours?” he asks, knowing perfectly what she was hinting at. Scarlet gets redder than her hair and the pillow on her bed and babbles something.

“Perhaps with many quilts and furs scattered on the floor?” he tries, a knowing, sweet smile on his lips as he brings them close to her ear. “And flower pots hanging from the ceiling, books on long shelves, and a large bed made of leaves against the biggest wall.”

Scarlet giggles, hiding her face behind her hand, but Solas gently pulls it away and kisses it while she keeps laughing.

“That’s… that’s a very accurate description of what I imagined, yes.” she admits, then she tries to poke his nose as he continues to kiss her hand.

Then she gathers more courage and blurts out: “I also imagined plushes and toys. For the children.”

Solas stops at that. They have been dreaming about their kids for years and once Solas even drew the map of a house Scarlet saw in a book, a little cottage where they could live together in perfect harmony.

And after seeing that picture, she could never stop thinking about it. If at first she imagined her married life with Solas in the clan, inside a private aravel, after finding that picture in a book she started dreaming only of that cottage.

Many of her clan-mates left the aravels to go live in the houses of Wycome: they found their own space, their own land, and transferred their families and lives there. They didn’t forget about their Dalish heritage, but they also accepted the change, accepted the opportunity to have more and sometimes better.

Even though the aravels and the camps she made with her clan will always hold a special, warm place in her heart, now what she wants to see is that cottage. What she wants to hear is voices coming from the second floor; what she wants to smell is not the pungent smell of smoke coming from the hearth at the center of the camp, but sweet herbs and dry flowers in the cozy living room and honey and cinnamon in the warm kitchen.

She wants to have a bedroom to kiss Solas and be kissed by him on their marital bed; she wants to play with their children in their rooms. She can still remember the map Solas drew, she can remember all the rooms he planned, all her timid suggestions, all the wishful dreams she had.

And so she cries. Quietly at first, but then she bursts into sobs and Solas is quick to pull her closer again and kiss her wet cheeks. They are not tears of despair, but of hope and love instead and he knows the difference and doesn’t panic.

“Solas!” she cries, clinging to his shirt and letting him embrace her with the cape again. “Solas, do you remember that cottage I saw in that book? The map of it you drew?”

“Of course I remember it.” He kisses her nose and jaw and then looks into her eyes. There is only love and tenderness on his face. “Why do you ask?”

“Bring us there, please. Show it to me now. I want to see it and… and I want to see it with all the magic restored. With our friends and all the races of Thedas alive.”

Solas doesn’t reply this time, too stunned to do so. Scarlet smiles at him through her tears and dries them, hurrying to say: “You don’t have to come with me, if you don’t want to. Just transform the Fade around me when I’ll leave the aravel and…”

“Why do you want to see it?” He shakes his head and takes a deep, shaky breath. “I never had the courage to explore fully such a dream. I knew it would hurt immensely, because I thought…”

“Because you thought it couldn’t come true. But we have to hope now, Solas, we have to hope more than we ever hoped before!” She swallows her last tears and cups his cheek. “Ma vhenan, we have to see with our own eyes what we need to fight for. We have to see the beautiful future that awaits us if we give our best and never stop hoping.”

It’s Solas’ turn to cry now. He closes his eyes and tears run down his cheeks; he makes no sound, but he exhales slowly and relaxes as Scarlet presses her lips on his wet face like he did before with her.

“Solas, please. I need to see it. I need to see that future.” She knows he’s thinking about the Evanuris, about the freedom they will find if they proceed with the alternative plan, about the chaos and destruction they will bring into Thedas.

Her resolve gets stronger, her desire to save everyone and ensure a happy future for everybody, for herself and Solas, grows until she can barely contain it.

So she takes a deep breath and rests her head on his shoulder, stroking his back and saying softly: “It will be alright, ma vhenan. You told me so, remember? It will be alright.”

“Yes.” He tightens his hold on her. “Yes, you are right.”

He gently pulls away to look at her and smiles, his hands resting once again on either side of her face, squishing her cheeks. It was something that she used to do a lot with him, one of their sweet, domestic games that they often played together, and she giggles, blushing when he leans down to kiss her nose.

She feels a vibration in the air and even though the aravel is unchanged, she knows the outside will be different and they will see a totally new landscape.

“Ready, vhenan?” Solas asks her, smiling. His hands are shaking and there is a bit of panic in his gray-blue eyes, but he looks impatient to see what their future might indeed hold if they are clever, strong, and lucky.

“Yes.” Scarlet leans in to press her lips on his and just as they pull away to get out of the aravel together, a new sound echoes loudly in the air.

She yelps, jumping out of her skin, while Solas maintains a certain composure, but looks as shocked as her. The noise becomes louder, clearer, until Scarlet recognizes it and exclaims:

“The magic crystal!”

And that’s when they wake up.

- - - -

The crystal Dorian gave her is indeed ringing, but Scarlet has little strength to take it here in the waking world: the wound on her right arm still burns a lot and the stress and pain she went through this morning, together with the little food she has been eating, left her weak.

Solas fetches it for her and hands it to her, watching her with concerned eyes, noticing her pallor. He is clearly also worried about what Dorian might say, despite what she told him the day before.

She opens the locket and taps her fingertip on the shining crystal: the noise stops immediately and they can hear a loud gasp.

“Scarlet?” Dorian’s familiar voice tentatively calls, slightly echoing due to the effect of magic, and she laughs, happy to hear him.

“Hello!” she says, grinning at Solas and then at the crystal. “Guess where I am?”

Dorian splutters something nonsensical and finds the right words only after a considerate effort.

“You…! You almost killed me! You wouldn’t answer my calls and then I got a letter from Leliana which said you and that agent had disappeared and…” He snarls, then makes a noise similar to a sob.

“Oh, Dorian!” Scarlet exclaims, feeling wretched and guilty. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to worry you all! A lot happened and…”

“Are you alright? Are you really there with him?” The magister hesitates for a moment. “Where are you exactly?”

“I…” Scarlet looks up at Solas, but his gentle smile tells her that he cannot reveal that information to her nor to their friend. Not yet, at least, so she hums and answers as best as she can:

“I am in Solas’ base. Everything is fine, Dorian, there were just…” She sighs and grief strikes her heart again. “Enasalin is dead. The Venatori killed him, but you probably already know this.”

“Yes.” Dorian replies with genuine sorrow. “I am so sorry, my friend. He sounded like a nice fellow.” A pause, then: “Leliana’s letter said they found traces leading to some elven ruins. They followed them and found blood, that poor agent, and a broken eluvian. Did you escape through that?”

“Yes. Enasalin opened it for me, but he didn’t have the chance to follow me.” She remembers with great guilt those moments, although her memory of them is a bit fuzzy due to the poison which numbed her mind.

“Are you hurt?” is Dorian’s next logical question, to which she has to answer truthfully: “… An ugly arrow hit me, yes. Solas healed me.”

“An ugly arrow?” The magister sounds outraged by her choice of words. “What do you mean, an ugly arrow?” He then chokes on another sob and groans something about ‘white hair’ and ‘weak heart’.

“Well, it was poisoned, but just a little bit!” she hurries to say, panicking, but Dorian just panics more and demands to know all the details.

Solas cannot stay quiet any longer and blurts out, almost without realizing it: “I removed the poison from her body, Dorian. She isn’t in danger anymore, she just needs to rest and eat.”

A long silence follows, so long Scarlet thinks the magic connection got interrupted. But suddenly Dorian speaks again and his tone isn’t angry or bitter, just pleasantly surprised and even relieved.

“Now that’s a voice I didn’t think I would hear ever again. Or at least, not like this.” He chuckles and quickly speaks to Scarlet: “See?? I told you everything would be fine! You are finally reunited!”

“Yes.” Scarlet giggles, blushing as she looks up at Solas for a second; she blushes even more when he grins and kisses her.

“Was that the sound of a kiss?” Dorian sounds ecstatic. “Finally some good news in this wretched excuse of a world! Say, when can I come there to disrupt your domestic bliss?”

Solas tenses up at that and Scarlet doesn’t miss the slight jerk of his hand and neck as he stares down at the locket with horror and worry.

“Well…” she starts, biting her lower lip. She actually wanted to spend more time with Solas without thinking about all the things they must do, all the researches they must study and evaluate.

She knows they will have to face that soon, but for now, even though her hope is stronger as ever, all she wants is just stay with him and pretend the world isn’t on the brink of war with the Qunari, that the Veil isn’t getting weaker day by day, and that they won’t have to fight a group of insane false gods soon.

For the first time since she became Inquisitor, she wants to be selfish for a bit and take moments of happiness when she finds them, like Inquisitor Ameridan suggested to her.

“May we wait a little more, Dorian?” she says and she sounds so hopeful and earnest that the magister can’t really say no, although he sighs and replies:

“I know you two need to stay alone with each other and I can’t believe I am saying this, but… we really need to talk about this Veil matter. I looked at our notes yesterday, while trying not to go mad with worry for you, and I believe we came really close to our objective.”

She glances at Solas and is happy to see him more relaxed, at ease.

“I know, Dorian.” she says. “I told him so.”

“I’m glad to hear that you finally changed your mind, you stubborn ass.” Dorian continues, talking to him, and this time he sounds a little annoyed. “And I would give you two all the time in the world if I could, but the others are getting impatient, they are waiting for answers and results, and the Qunari are more relentless than ever. I’m much worried about them, to be honest.”

“I am dealing with them as well.” Solas says, but he doesn’t offer more details and smiles mysteriously at Scarlet’s intrigued look. Of course she knew he was having his own way with the armies of Qunari trying to invade the south, but she never discovered how he did so.

“Excellent, but this won’t last much longer. First you were so eager to see this Veil fall and now you play for time?” Dorian scoffs and grumbles something. “Listen, I will prepare everything and everyone while Scarlet recovers. The sooner we find the right way to destroy the Veil and let everyone survive - because I would very much like to survive, thank you -, the sooner you two will be able to smooch each other and finally be happy for all eternity.”

Scarlet makes a timid noise and scoots closer to Solas; he delicately slides an arm around her shoulders and replies softly:

“Very well. A week should be sufficient.”

“I’ll inform Leliana to send all the notes on my desk here through one of Solas’ agents.” Scarlet adds, remembering every book and piece of paper that she left in her room. “I will show those to Solas in the meantime. Then we will meet…”

She looks at Solas, not knowing how to proceed. Is it alright for the others to come here? But where is here, exactly? Will they be accompanied by his agents through the Crossroads, using the eluvians?

“You will come here.” Solas concludes, as if he read her mind. “My agents will show you the way.” He frowns and hurries to add: “Not before a week, however. That is the time you must give us.”

“Good. See you in a week, then.” Dorian’s tone softens a lot. “Scarlet, my friend, enjoy yourself. I promise I will bother you only to wish you good morning.”

She laughs and replies affectionately: “You are never a bother, Dorian. Feel free to call whenever you want.”

He says goodbye again, this time sounding more choked up than before, then the communication stops and the crystal goes silent, its azure light slowly fading away. Scarlet closes the locket and leans back onto the pillows with a relieved sigh.

Solas doesn’t waste time and moves to her side, placing a tender kiss on her left shoulder.

“That went well.” she says, raising her hand to caress his cheek, and he kisses her palm.

“Yes. I am glad we still have some time to relax and recover before…” He swallows and panic enters his eyes again. “… Before focusing on harder matters.”

Scarlet nods and motions him to rest his head on her shoulder. But he shakes his head and, after resting down on the pillows as well, he moves her to his chest instead.

She giggles, kisses it, then asks: “Will you show me the base today?”

“Are you feeling better? If you want, we can sleep some more.” He chuckles and twirls a strand of red hair around his finger. “Although, now that you are here, the Fade seems extraordinarily dull.”

“That’s the special effect I have! Making people forget about their favorite hobbies.” she jokes, squealing and giggling again when he pinches her butt.

“We shall visit the base, then.” he says, smiling smugly at her. He even has the nerve to wiggle his eyebrows as his hand moves down to her butt again. “There is a library here too. I am sure we will find many interesting books to spend our nights with.”

“Oh.” She pouts, pretending to be offended. “That’s how you want to spend our nights? This wound will heal soon, you know?”

Solas laughs boyishly at that, cheeks red and eyes twinkling with joy; Scarlet laughs with him and they are about to kiss and lose themselves into each other, when…

A knock on the door interrupts them and Solas frowns, sighs, and turns to it without even moving a leg.

“… The effect of silencing spell ended while we were sleeping.” he mumbles, then raises his voice: “Yes?”

“Forgive me, Lord Fen’Harel!” Alas’ nervous voice responds. “Abelas is here and asks to talk with you.”

Solas and Scarlet exchanges a surprised look, then she hurriedly retreats under the covers and blankets to hide her attire. Solas is even more relaxed than before, basically giving no damns about the fact that Abelas is going to enter the room.

Then he seems to change his mind and asks with a scowl: “We expected him much sooner. Apologies should not be delayed so much.”

“I came not to apologize!” Abelas replies from behind the door, causing Solas to get furious and lose all composure. “The agents you sent to Minrathous have returned with important news!”

“Not to apologize?” Solas rises and walks slowly towards the door, fists closed at his sides; his is the gait of a wolf, Scarlet recognizes it now, and his jaw is tightened, his teeth gritted.

He is about to tear the door off its hinges and punch Abelas in the face, or worse.

“Solas!” she calls him, sitting up faster than lightning. “Ma vhenan, come here!”

“You must apologize to her!” Solas shouts, ignoring her. “Do it now! Enter and apologize to her!”

A pause, then Abelas’ serious and somber voice answers: “I will not apologize to that shemlen. She is going to ruin us all.”

Solas shouts some elven words Scarlet doesn’t understand, but before he can lunge at the door and set Abelas on fire, she stands on wobbly feet and runs to him.

“Vhenan!” she calls him, putting herself between him and the door. His eyes are glowing blue like they were doing that morning, after Enasalin’s funeral. “Ma sa’lath, look at me.”

He does so and the glow immediately disappears, letting her see how angry and hurt and sad he is.

“I’m sorry, I…” He shakes his head and then exclaims, shaking: “You shouldn’t be treated this way!”

“Hush, silly wolf.” she says softly, taking his hand and smiling at him. “Everything is fine. Nobody is treating me badly here.”

“But…!”

“Abelas, give us a minute.” she says, raising her voice a bit. “We just have to get dressed.”

“… Very well.”

They hear steps and the clank of armor fading away, then she turns to Solas again: he is glaring at the door and he really looks like an impetuous and bold cub.

She giggles and kisses him for a long minute and that’s enough to calm him down; he hugs her tightly as soon as the kiss ends and she rubs her hand on the small of his back because that’s the only part she can reach with her burning arm.

“Would you help me dress?” she asks, kissing his neck, then gasps: “Solas! Those beautiful clothes you made for me, they are all dirty with blood now!”

“We will clean them, don’t worry.” he says, finally smiling again, even though his voice is hoarse.

He brings her to the chest where he kept all the gifts he couldn’t send her; he retrieves new clothes from there, promising she will see the rest of the presents later without hurry, then helps her to put them on.

After that, he collects the pieces of his armor he just left on the ground and wears it quickly, every movement showing expertise and elegance. He still can’t buckle his belt well, though, so Scarlet helps him with that.

“Ready?” he asks her, just like he did in the Fade, as they were about to leave the aravel. This time it isn’t a dream, this time they are going to step out into his base and she will be finally able to spend the whole day with him, exploring it and meeting his agents.

“Ready.” she nods with a bright smile, which Solas returns with a kiss.

He opens the door and the first thing they see is Adahl and Alas falling on the ground, caught eavesdropping once again.

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Missing McGill music professor found dead in Montreal

The dean of McGill University’s Schulich School of Music says professor Eleanor Stubley, whose body becomes discovered after she were lacking for about one week, turned into wholly dedicated to her college students.

Prof. Stubley, 57, changed into ultimate seen on Aug. 7 in southwestern Montreal and police showed her body become located in the same neighborhood Sunday night time.

Police stated her disappearance and dying aren’t connected to a crook act however they refused to provide further information.

Music faculty dean Brenda Ravenscroft said Prof. Stubley “become widely known and pretty reputable by means of a spread of human beings inside the musical community.”

Prof. Stubley suffered from a couple of sclerosis, however, Dr. Ravenscroft said it become her tune that turned into front and center in her life things to do in montreal in augus.

“She became one of these big contributors to her work,” Dr. Ravenscroft said. “Utterly committed to students and such a terrific conductor and any troubles with bodily challenges had been simply inside the background.

“It’s a massive loss for us.”

McGill University important Suzanne Fortier stated in a statement Monday that Prof. Stubley’s MS informed her work.

“Prof. Stubley changed into severely acclaimed as both a scholar and an artist, undertaking ensembles in Canada, England, Finland and the U.S,” Dr. Fortier said.

“She lived with more than one sclerosis, and much of her work explored the physicality of a track.”

Prof. Stubley becomes the companion dean inside the graduate research department at Schulich. She taught tune training, musicology, and overall performance.

She becomes additionally the recipient of the Queen Elizabeth II Diamond Jubilee Medal, in a reputation of her “a long time of notable contribution to the arts,” McGill major Suzanne Fortier said.

Music is one of the greatest creations of human kind in the course of history. It is creativity in a pure and undiluted form and format. Music plays a vital role in our daily life. It is a way of expressing our feelings and emotions. Music is a way to escape life, which gives us relief in pain and helps us to reduce the stress of the daily routine. It helps us to calm down and even excites us in the moment of joy. Moreover, it enriches the mind and gives us self-confidence.

Music surrounds our lives at different moments of lives, Missing  whether  professor  we hear it on the radio, Montreal on television,

from our car and home stereos. Different kinds of music are appropriate for different occasions. We come across it in the mellifluous tunes of a classical concert or in the devotional strains of a bhajan, the wedding band, or the reaper in the fields breaking into song to express the joys of life. Even warbling in the bathroom gives us a happy start to the day. Music has a very powerful therapeutic effect on the human psyche. It has always been part of our association with specific emotions, and those emotions themselves have given rise to great music.

The origins of Indian music can be traced back to the chanting of the Sama Veda nearly 4,000 years ago. The primacy of the voice and the association of musical sound with prayer were thus established early in the history of Indian music. Today, music is available to us in different forms and the choice of music varies from person to person just as the reading choices vary from one another. There is folk music, classical music, devotional music, instrumental, jazz, rock music, pop music, Hindi movie songs and much more.

In the modern world, Music has gained an honorable designation of ‘HEALING WITHOUT MEDICINE’. Doctors feel that music therapy has been helping them in treating many people with problems like dementia, dyslexia depression, and trauma.” Many children with learning disability and poor coordination have been able to learn, and respond to set pieces of music. Many people with genetic disability have found a new light in the form of music.

Dance critic Ashish Khokar cites an experiment as proof: “Music is produced from sound, and sound affects our sense perception in many ways. Even fish in an aquarium was once made to listen to different kinds of music and it was found that their movements corresponded with the beat of the music. Mind you, fish do not hear, they only felt the vibrations of the sound through water. So you can imagine what a profound effect sound and music might have on the human mind.”

Anand Avinash, founder of the Neuro Linguistic Consciousness workshop who has researched music therapy says,”the mystics and saints from ancient to modern times have shown how music can kindle the higher centers of the mind and enhance a quality of life.” Mantras, or chants used in the West, repeated monotonously, help the mind to achieve a sense of balance. A combination of the sounds in Sanskrit mantras produce certain positive vibrations and elevate the mind to a higher level of consciousness.

We all know that meditation cleanses the system of its negative energies and vibrations. And music is a powerful aid to meditation. In many meditation workshops, music is used to make people more aware of their moods and feelings. People are made to lie down and empty their minds and then listen to the music which is systematically changed so that they can fit through different emotions and state of consciousness.

Many people also believe that any music you respond to positively will work for you, regardless of its content.

Thus, even pop music might work wonders for you.

Music affects all of us in some way or the other. It also is the most common interest of many people. People who love music, listen to it while traveling, reading, meditation, walking, some even have soft music while working in their busy routine. It helps them to relax and escape from the stress of our day-to-day lives. It can transport us to another time or place and it is a great feeling of seeing or doing or experiencing something different. People have special music corner for themselves and some people give importance to listening in silence and some people love to read with light music and even some people love listening to music before sleeping. Many people love listening to music in a bathroom because they feel it is one of the few rooms in the home where privacy is routinely respected. Some people also love to sing in the bathroom and are called ‘bathroom singers’. Music has now become a part of our life as it serves different purposes for each one of us.

It serves as an entertainment tool. For instance, in an occasion or event, music plays a vital role that makes the event to be lively for the people. Similarly, it creates cordial relationship among the people.

Moreover, it serves as a tool for corrective measure. Music tells the people on the habit that is uncultured so that such behavior can be for better. Furthermore, it is an agent that is used to educate people. Music can easily convey the message to the friends and enemies.

It serves as the tool for settling the dispute between two or more people. It often helps to put an end to disagreements after listening to related meaningful songs. Music is played for the group to show harmony among them.

Music also serves as a source of income to human life. It is a profession of particular classes of people like lyricist, playback singers, music directors, musicians, musical instrument players, DJs etc.

Lastly, music serves as a message or symbol that indicates the occurrence that is going on in a particular place or event. For instance, If bad occurrence happens in a particular place the type of music played there will show the audience or listens what happened in that event. The type of music played will justify to the listeners what actually going on there.

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Role of Music in Human Life

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Role of Music in Human Life

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Music is passion

Music is energy

Music is joy

Music is creativity

Music is eternal

Music is love

Music is soul

Music is life

Music is one of the greatest creations of human kind in the course of history. It is creativity in a pure and undiluted form and format. Music plays a vital role in our daily life. It is a way of expressing our feelings and emotions. Music is a way to escape life, which gives us relief in pain and helps us to reduce the stress of the daily routine. It helps us to calm down, an even excites us in the moment of joy. Moreover, it enriches the mind and gives us self confidence.

Music surrounds our lives at different moments of lives, whether we hear it on the radio, on television, from our car and home stereos. Different kinds of music are appropriate for different occasions. We come across it in the mellifluous tunes of a classical concert or in the devotional strains of a bhajan, the wedding band, or the reaper in the fields breaking into song to express the joys of life. Even warbling in the bathroom gives us a happy start to the day. Music has a very powerful therapeutic effect on the human psyche. It has always been part of our association with specific emotions, and those emotions themselves have given rise to great music.

The origins of Indian music can be traced back to the chanting of the Sama Veda nearly 4,000 years ago. The primacy of the voice, and the association of musical sound with prayer, were thus established early in the history of Indian music. Today, music is available for us in different forms and the choice for music varies from person to person just as the reading choices vary from one another. There is folk music, classical music, devotional music, instrumental, jazz, rock music, pop music, hindi movie songs and many more.

In the modern world, Music has gained an honourable designation of ‘HEALING WITHOUT MEDICINE’. Doctors feel that music therapy has been helping them in treating many people with problems like dementia, dyslexia depression and trauma.” Many children with learning disability and poor co-ordination have been able to learn, and respond to set pieces of music. Many people with genetic disability have found a new light in the form of music.

Dance critic Ashish Khokar cites an experiment as proof: “Music is produced from sound, and sound affects our sense perception in many ways. Even fish in an aquarium were once made to listen to different kinds of music and it was found that their movements corresponded with the beat of the music. Mind you, fish do not hear, they only felt the vibrations of the sound through water. So you can imagine what a profound effect sound and music might have on the human mind.”

Anand Avinash, founder of the Neuro Linguistic Consciousness workshop who has researched music therapy says,”the mystics and saints from ancient to modern times have shown how music can kindle the higher centers of the mind and enhance quality of life.” Mantras, or chants used in the West, repeated monotonously, help the mind to achieve a sense of balance. A combination of the sounds in Sanskrit mantras produce certain positive vibrations and elevate the mind to a higher lever of consciousness.

We all know that meditation cleanses the system of its negative energies and vibrations. And music is a powerful aid to meditation. In many meditation workshops, music is used to make people more aware of their moods and feelings. People are made to lie down and empty their minds and then listen to the music which is systematically changed so that they can fit through different emotions and state of consciousness.

Many people also believe that any music you respond to positively will work for you, regardless of its content. Thus, even pop music might work wonders for you.

Music affects all of us in some way or the other. It also is the most common interest of many people. People who love music, listen to it while traveling, reading, meditation, walking, some even have soft music while working in their busy routine. It helps them to relax and escape from the stress of our day-to-day lives. It can transport us to another time or place and it is a great feeling of seeing or doing or experiencing something different. People have special music corner for themselves and some people give importance to listening in silence and some people love to read with light music and even some people love listening to music before sleeping. Many people love listening to music in bathroom because they feel it is one of the few rooms in the home where privacy is routinely respected. Some people also love to sing in the bathroom and are called ‘bathroom singers’. Music has now become a part of our life as it serves different purposes for each one of us.

It serves as an entertainment tool. For instance, in an occasion or event, music plays a vital role that makes the event to be lively for the people. Similarly, it creates cordial relationship among the people.

Moreover, it serves as a tool for corrective measure. Music tell the people on the habit that is uncultured so that such behavior can be for better. Furthermore, it is an agent that is used to educate people. Music can easily convey message to the friends and enemies.

It serves as tool for settling dispute between two or more people. It often helps to put an end to disagreements after listening to related meaningful songs. Music is played for the group to show harmony among them.

Music also serves as a source of income to human life. It is a profession of particular classes of people like lyricist, playback singers, music directors, musicians, musical instrument players, djs etc.

Lastly, music serves as a message or symbol that indicates the occurrence that is going on in a particular place or event. For instance, If bad occurrence happen in a particular place the type of music played their will show the audience or listens what happened in that event. The type of music played will justify to the listeners what actually going on there.

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Cranbourne Secondary College brings story

The display, written by way of musician and track teacher Craig Waldron, took 40 students six months to prepare and unlike a few stories about the famous bushranger, it tells the tale from the attitude of his supporters and his critics — namely the police who denounced him and his gang as murderers.

Production coordinator Simone Wright said handiest 4 of the students who took part were in a musical before and some of the multicultural solid had in no way heard of Ned Kelly.

She said the independent production, by using Craig Waldron, had only ever been shown in Europe before the faculty’s overall performance.

“It tries to show the flattering and the unflattering components of the story — it opens just once they have hung Ned Kelly and indicates the protesters who are advantageous closer to him and the police who say he’s a crook,” she said.

“The kids in it had been very responsive, they stated, ‘wow, we didn’t suppose we should research some thing from doing a faculty manufacturing’ … A whole lot of them didn’t recognize something about Ned Kelly.

“(40 students) is big for Cranbourne Secondary College funny short stories.

“Some of these kids … Had been so worrying approximately appearing arts in junior faculty and now they may be in a college production; it’s big

Music is one of the greatest creations of human kind in the course of history. It is creativity in a pure and undiluted form and format. Music plays a vital role in our daily life. It is a way of expressing our feelings and emotions. Music is a way to escape life, which gives us relief in pain and helps us to reduce the stress of the daily routine. It helps us to calm down, an even excites us in the moment of joy. Moreover, it enriches the mind and gives us self confidence.

Music surrounds our lives at different moments of lives, whether we hear it on the radio, on television, from our car and home stereos. Different kinds of music are appropriate for different occasions. We come across it in the mellifluous tunes of a classical concert or in the devotional strains of a bhajan, the wedding band, or the reaper in the fields breaking into song to express the joys of life. Even warbling in the bathroom gives us a happy start to the day. Music has a very powerful therapeutic effect on the human psyche. It has always been part of our association with specific emotions, and those emotions themselves have given rise to great music.

The origins of Indian music can be traced back to the chanting of the Sama Veda nearly 4,000 years ago.

The primacy of the voice, and the association of musical sound with prayer, were thus established early in the history of Indian music. Today, music is available to us in different forms and the choice of music varies from person to person just as the reading choices vary from one another. There is folk music, classical music, devotional music, instrumental, jazz, rock music, pop music, Hindi movie songs and many more.

In the modern world, Music has gained an honourable designation of ‘HEALING WITHOUT MEDICINE’. Doctors feel that music therapy has been helping them in treating many people with problems like dementia, dyslexia depression and trauma.” Many children with learning disability and poor co-ordination have been able to learn, and respond to set pieces of music. Many people with genetic disability have found a new light in the form of music.

Dance critic Ashish Khokar cites an experiment as proof: “Music is produced from sound, and sound affects our sense perception in many ways. Even fish in an aquarium was once made to listen to different kinds of music and it was found that their movements corresponded with the beat of the music. Mind you, fish do not hear, they only felt the vibrations of the sound through water. So you can imagine what a profound effect sound and music might have on the human mind.”

Anand Avinash, founder of the Neuro Linguistic Consciousness workshop who has researched music therapy says,”the mystics and saints from ancient to modern times have shown how music can kindle the higher centers of the mind and enhance the quality of life.” Mantras, or chants used in the West, repeated monotonously, help the mind to achieve a sense of balance. A combination of the sounds in Sanskrit mantras produce certain positive vibrations and elevate the mind to a higher lever of consciousness.

We all know that meditation cleanses the system of its negative energies and vibrations. And music is a powerful aid to meditation. In many meditation workshops, music is used to make people more aware of their moods and feelings. People are made to lie down and empty their minds and then listen to the music which is systematically changed so that they can fit through different emotions and state of consciousness.

Many people also believe that any music you respond to positively  College  will work for you Secondary , regardless of its content. story Thus, even pop music might work wonders for you.

Music affects all of us in some way or the other. It also is the most common interest of many people. People who love music, listen to it while traveling, reading, meditation, walking, some even have soft music while working in their busy routine. It helps them to relax and escape from the stress of our day-to-day lives. It can transport us to another time or place and it is a great feeling of seeing or doing or experiencing something different. People have special music corner for themselves and some people give importance to listening in silence and some people love to read with light music and even some people love listening to music before sleeping. Many people love listening to music in bathroom because they feel it is one of the few rooms in the home where privacy is routinely respected. Some people also love to sing in the bathroom and are called ‘bathroom singers’. Music has now become a part of our life as it serves different purposes for each one of us.

It serves as an entertainment tool. For instance, in an occasion or event, music plays a vital role that makes the event to be lively for the people. Similarly, it creates cordial relationship among the people.

Moreover, it serves as a tool for corrective measure. Music tells the people on the habit that is uncultured so that such behavior can be for better. Furthermore, it is an agent that is used to educate people. Music can easily convey the message to the friends and enemies.

It serves as the tool for settling the dispute between two or more people. It often helps to put an end to disagreements after listening to related meaningful songs. Music is played for the group to show harmony among them.

Music also serves as a source of income to human life. It is a profession of particular classes of people like lyricist, playback singers, music directors, musicians, musical instrument players, DJs etc.

Lastly, music serves as a message or symbol that indicates the occurrence that is going on in a particular place or event. For instance, If bad occurrence happens in a particular place the type of music played there will show the audience or listens what happened in that event. The type of music played will justify to the listeners what actually going on there.

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Watch London Trio Daughter Create Music for 'Life Is Strange

Neo-people organization Daughter has a recognition for experimenting beyond everyday conventions, however, on their trendy mission, they are increasing their repertoire to include video game compositions. Life is Strange: Before The Storm from Square Enix, the publishers behind a bunch of groundbreaking collection including Final Fantasy and Tomb Raider will encompass an original score from the London-based trio.Neo-people organization Daughter has a recognition for experimenting beyond everyday conventions, however, on their trendy mission, they are increasing their repertoire to include video game compositions. Life is Strange: Before The Storm from Square Enix, the publishers behind a bunch of groundbreaking collection including Final Fantasy and Tomb Raider will encompass an original score from the London-based trio.

In a distinct behind-the-scenes look of the score’s development, Daughter members Elena

Tonra and Igor Haefeli speak the demanding situations of drawing near an online game rating and searching for the suggestion from the game’s sixteen-12 months vintage protagonist.

“Feeling bare below certified but especially excited we learned as we went,” singer Elena Tonra tells Billboard. ”For our personal albums it could take a couple of years to complete a file, so we had to be very instinctive and decisive with these songs even as being open to adapting to suit with the script and the sport because it turned into growing.” The band worked nearly non-prevent for the first 1/2 of 2017 writing and recording the score with Tonra and Haefeli plugging away in a rented studio together whilst drummer Remi Aguilella recorded his components from his home base in Portland, Ore.

Despite the long distance collaborating, Tonra proudly publicizes “it sounds without a doubt together.” Before The Storm is truly the right suit for a modern-day band to accompany as it revolves around a relatable teenage rebellion in a contemporary, real-world story. The online game series began in 2015 with Life Is Strange, and the brand new providing will function an episodic prequel, cut up into 3 parts. Along with filling out the story’s mythology and time-bending themes, the new installment goals to preserve the collection grounded in an on hand storyline.

At times, Tonra noticed the series’ adherence to truth in her very own writing for the score. Nothing But Thieves READ more tomorrow’s Hits: Nothing But Thieves, Ryan Kinder & Daughter“There are some songs in which I began writing from the primary man or woman Chloe’s perspective and slowly locating myself morphing the song into one among my own teenage memories or speaking approximately her grief and touching on it to someone I pass over terribly,” Tonra tells Billboard. “I could get to the end of the song and assume ‘Oh expensive. I’m speaking about that character again’ but it made it an unexpectedly therapeutic enjoy.” The first launch from the soundtrack “Burn It Down” was launched Tuesday (Aug. 8). The rousing tune alerts a large leap for the band, however also suggests a rating as a way to be unlike some thing else inside the online game global.

Music From Before The Storm will serve as the Music  official Strange soundtrack and may be London available Sept.

1 thru Glassnote Records. The band may also be hitting the street later this 12 months with The National in October accompanied by a South American headlining tour set for November. More tour data may be discovered here. Meanwhile, component certainly one of Life is Strange: Before The Storm may be to be had on Aug. 31. More info at the collection may be located on its internet site here. Check out an one of a kind in the back of-the-scenes examine Daughter working at the online game score underneath.

Music is one of the greatest creations of human kind in the course of history. It is creativity in a pure and undiluted form and format. Music plays a vital role in our daily life. It is a way of expressing our feelings and emotions. Music is a way to escape life, which gives us relief in pain and helps us to reduce the stress of the daily routine. It helps us to calm down and even excites us in the moment of joy. Moreover, it enriches the mind and gives us self-confidence.

Music surrounds our lives at different moments of lives, whether we hear it on the radio, on television, from our car and home stereos. Different kinds of music are appropriate for different occasions. We come across it in the mellifluous tunes of a classical concert or in the devotional strains of a bhajan, the wedding band, or the reaper in the fields breaking into song to express the joys of life. Even warbling in the bathroom gives us a happy start to the day. Music has a very powerful therapeutic effect on the human psyche. It has always been part of our association with specific emotions, and those emotions themselves have given rise to great music.

The origins of Indian music can be traced back to the chanting of the Sama Veda nearly

4,000 years ago. The primacy of the voice and the association of musical sound with prayer were thus established early in the history of Indian music. Today, music is available to us in different forms and the choice of music varies from person to person just as the reading choices vary from one another. There is folk music, classical music, devotional music, instrumental, jazz, rock music, pop music, Hindi movie songs and much more.

In the modern world, Music has gained an honorable designation of ‘HEALING WITHOUT MEDICINE’. Doctors feel that music therapy has been helping them in treating many people with problems like dementia, dyslexia depression, and trauma.” Many children with learning disability and poor coordination have been able to learn, and respond to set pieces of music. Many people with genetic disability have found a new light in the form of music.

Dance critic an Ashish Khokar cites an experiment as proof: “Music is produced from sound, and sound affects our sense perception in many ways. Even fish in an aquarium was once made to listen to different kinds of music and it was found that their movements corresponded with the beat of the music. Mind you, fish do not hear, they only felt the vibrations of the sound through water. So you can imagine what a profound effect sound and music might have on the human mind.”