#kriss in uniform

[yellodisney]

O..kay * 🤣 🌹

[callsignbaphomet]

What is everyone's gear loadout in Oracle? <333

Sorry for the late reply, hon.

Four examples but each person has a team they fall under and depending on what the team specializes in is what they'll mostly use as well as comfort levels. There's the usual that everyone carries which is a uniform (unless they're going in more "casual" or in "civvies"), pads, vests, appropriate footwear, communication devices, gadgets depend on the assignment and so on.

Loke: he can use any weapon. Any. He's stupid levels of good with them, scary levels of fast and accurate. He's the counter-sniper and can snipe (bolt action being his preference) as well but that's a role that's more specialized and doesn't often come up. He's the second best sniper in all of Oracle but this role comes up only when Trevor isn't available. Most of the time tho, you'll see him with ARs. His favorites are the AKs, that AR plus him being a combat medic means he has a lot more equipment on him for treating both non-humans and humans. He'll also carry a wide range of blades. He prefers flashbangs to smoke grenades. Aside from all of that he can conjure a two-headed axe as well as a bow with unlimited arrows that he can enchant.

Jelani: Jelani's all about ARs and has a soft spot for carbines. His favorite AR is the HK G36. He carries a backup Smith and Wesson M&P 2.0. I think those come with a metal frame as well but he prefers polymer. Yeah, there's the issue with the recoil but he knows what he's doing and can control that. Not a fan of any type of grenade but if needed will use them. He can also conjure a weapon but unlike berserkers he can change the shape of it despite his age and most of the time it's a type of glaive or a saex. But because dampeners are a thing he'll have backup knives. On super rare occasions he'll use a sniper though he isn't a fan.

Trevor: he's the resident sniper, in fact, he taught Loke all he knows. The best sniper Oracle has and proud owner of the world's longest confirmed kill to date (every time that record is broken irl I up Trevor's record lmao). He's often seen with the Accuracy International AXSR (bolt action, always has to be bolt action). As a backup he has a Glock that he's customized completely. As a werewolf he has use of his claws and fangs for flankers. Likes to pack smoke grenades.

Angelus: he likes rushing down targets and does a lot of flanking and in situations where either Loke or Trevor are sniping he likes to keep close around them to keep them safe from flankers and rushers. Given that he likes to move around a lot he prefers a lighter loadout. Sub-machine guns and PDWs for him. MP4, MP5SD, MP7, and so on. His very favorites though are the FN P90 and the Kriss Vector CRB. He carries arcane weapons such as an infamous blade he uses to buff his arcane abilities and his own offensive arcane abilities as well. Just like Trevor he's a werewolf and can rely on claws and fangs.

[ralseiplush5]

A pointed green hat covers his ears and conceals his face with shadow. He also has round glasses and a pink scarf. His long green coat features a black heart at the center.

Ralsei attempts to befriend Kriss and Susie but is naive about the Dark World. This is what he learns when Kris and Susie are mean to him. But he believes that they have good hearts.ralsei plush

Materials Ralsei plush, a plushie from Ralsei in the video game Deltarune is called Ralsei plush. It is inspired by the series' design and made from high-quality, comfortable plush fabric. It is soft and easy to care for thanks to its PP cotton filling.

This pillow is great for use as a hugging, nap, back, or lumbar cushion. It can reduce stress by promoting comfort and security.

Ralsei's first appearance is when he wears a long, green coat with a pointed green cap that covers his ears. He also has round glasses and a pink scarf.

Ralsei's Chapter 2 robe has some differences from Chapter 1. His sleeves are now black, his cloak is more uniform and his heart symbol has been replaced by an inverted spade emblem.

Ralsei seems to be very close to Kris and has a deep love. He treats him with respect and will often treat him as a servant. He may try to touch him with a leaf or pretend that he doesn't mind being hit. He will be supportive of Kris's progress and will assist him when necessary.

Available Ralsei is one the protagonists in Deltarune. He is a Darkner and the "Prince of the Dark", as mentioned in the Prophecy.

He lives alone in Castle Town. He is wearing a dark blue cloak, which obscures his face and conceals his horns during Chapter 1.

His horns have pink color, which is rare among Darkners. He can also survive in Dark Worlds and not be turned to stone, which is something that no other Darkner has.

Kris and Susie are friends of his, and they have more interactions in Chapter 2. Ralsei creates a space for Kris and Susie in his castle after they have separated. After Susie fell from the Cyber City trash heap, they even heal one another.

[earaercircular]

The recyclers of the Caribbean: a formula against hunger and garbage in Colombia

Mirta González collects the usable material from the Instituto Samario del Sur in Santa Marta (Colombia), on February 6, 2023

With their work, more than 150 recyclers from Santa Marta and Barranquilla, many of them Venezuelan migrants, contribute to the recovery of the environment

“Good morning, Recycling!” Mirta González shouts through the streets of the Primero de Mayo working-class neighbourhood in the city of Santa Marta[1], on the Colombian Caribbean coast. She repeats the sentence several times, going to each house to collect the bags containing plastic bottles, lids, cardboard, cans or glass that the neighbours give her. “I am an environmental helper,” the 30-year-old woman, a native of the municipality of San Francisco[2], located in northern Venezuela, proudly states. González is part of a group of 125 recyclers and environmental reclaimers in Santa Marta, most of them migrants, who fight to dignify her trade while helping the planet. Her work is part of a project of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, UNHCR [3], and the Italian NGO CESVI[4] dedicated to humanitarian work for more than three decades.

“We observed that when migrants arrived in Colombia, many began to recycle,” explains Kriss Ovalle, one of the project coordinators at CESVI. "In Venezuela it is not so common, but here we had no other option," argues González, referring to the work of her and her partner, who arrived in Colombia at the beginning of 2017 together with her four young children. "My husband has been recycling for five years now, and I have been recycling for three and a half," continues the woman, who earns between one and seven dollars a day, depending on what luck she has.

Her reality is similar to that of other recyclers that CESVI identified in impoverished areas of Santa Marta. More than 90 were migrants, while close to 30 were Colombians. UNHCR and the NGO undertook actions to help them since August 2021. "First, it was important to make them see the impact of their work," says Ovalle. This is how the group began to carry out days to clean and recover public spaces. “We built a park with car tires,” recalls González with a laugh.

The idea was for them to learn about caring for the environment to become aware of their work, and thus be able to ask the community for support. “I myself went house to house telling people how to separate the garbage and letting them know that I was going to pick it up,” says González. In front of her is her nephew Rubén, who drives the cart in which they both collect the reusable material. "These things later become plastic chairs, more bags, or more bottles," says the woman, holding one of the pots in her hand. Like many in the group, González has the endorsement to work legally in Colombia and has grown to love her trade despite the difficulties. “If you go to my house, you will realize that we are a family of real recyclers”, she says with conviction.

The wheeled container and González's denim uniform bear the emblem of Asorecuperar, an association made up of 70 project beneficiaries who joined forces to fight for decent working conditions. UNHCR gave them the appropriate clothing and gave them ten carts to carry out their work. "Before, I used to recycle with a sack over my shoulder and many looked at me badly, but now people recognize me," she says motivated, her eyes on her shirt sleeves. It is not known how many recyclers like González there are in Colombia, but until 2018, the Ministry of Environment and Sustainable Development[5] estimated that 30,500 people were engaged in this trade.

Her mother and the rest of the association's members still face recycling challenges. "We need a warehouse to store the material and our own cooperative to sell it at better prices," says Aníbal Peroz, president of Asorecuperar and leader of the recyclers in the Villa Betel neighbourhood[6], a neighbourhood with streets without asphalt and flimsy houses, in where misery and state oblivion reign. The 63-year-old man is a fellow citizen of González and is concerned about the precipitous drop in recycling prices in recent months. "Yesterday I barely made 13,000 pesos," which in exchange is less than three dollars, says Peroz, a widowed father with a seven-year-old daughter.

Despite the fact that CESVI ended its work with the Santa Marta recyclers at the end of last year, Alba Marcellán, head of the UNHCR office in Barranquilla, maintains that the agency will continue to support Asorecuperar. "We are going to accompany the process of formalizing the Association so that the recyclers reach their objectives," says the official, who has been working for more than a decade for migrants and refugees in the country.

In the breezes of the Magdalena river

Without anticipating it, UNHCR's work also spread to the El Ferry neighbourhood[7] in Barranquilla[8], a place where poverty is exactly the same as that of the corridors of Villa Betel, in Santa Marta. There, hand in hand with the social ministry, they have supported a group of 30 recycling mothers.

Mariangela, Nairis, Esther, and Aramis live in a sector of the Ferry, known as Brisas del Río[9], that separates Barranquilla from the municipality of Soledad by means of a pile of garbage that rises between two streets, on the banks of the Magdalena River. At that border, mothers leave at whatever time is necessary to collect as much PET-type plastic, cans, and archival material as possible in order to eat. They already have uniforms to identify themselves, boots to make their way in the dirt, gloves to handle the garbage and hats to protect themselves from the raging sun of the region.

Although most of them are not aware of the positive impact of their work, some are very clear about it. “The garbage that we collect is used to do many things. I know because I researched it. Our work is important, ”says Nairis Rojas, sitting in an armchair with her hands placed on her belly eight months pregnant with what will be her second child.

The gift of belonging

All the beneficiaries of these projects agree that the recognition of their existence has been the most important privilege. “Before we felt isolated, but now we are part of something,” explains Víctor Ramírez, a waste picker in Bahía Concha, near Santa Marta. "Mirta is a very important woman, because she contributes to the planet," González complements, speaking of herself in the third person, with flashes of light in her eyes.

As of February 2022, according to data from Migración Colombia, there are 169,941 Venezuelan migrants in Santa Marta and Barranquilla. In the country, the total is 2,477,588. Marcellán insists that the main premise of the actions of UNHCR and the organizations with which it collaborates is to "continue to encourage the population and make them feel more Colombian every day so that it becomes a richer, more nourished and more unique country". .

Source

PAULA MEDINA, Los recicladores del Caribe: una fórmula contra el hambre y la basura en Colombia, in: El País, 28-02-2023, https://elpais.com/america-futura/2023-02-28/los-recicladores-del-caribe-una-formula-contra-el-hambre-y-la-basura-en-colombia.html

[1] Santa Marta (officially the Distrito Turístico, Cultural e Histórico de Santa Marta (English: Touristic, Cultural and Historic District of Santa Marta), is a city on the coast of the Caribbean Sea in northern Colombia. It is the capital of Magdalena Department and the fourth-largest urban city of the Caribbean Region of Colombia, after Barranquilla, Cartagena, and Soledad. This city is situated on a bay by the same name and as such, it is a prime tourist destination in the Caribbean region.

[2] San Francisco is a municipality in the metropolitan area of Maracaibo, Venezuela's second largest city. San Francisco covers an area of 185 square kilometres and recorded a population of 446,757 in the 2011 Venezuelan census.

[3] The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) is a United Nations agency mandated to aid and protect refugees, forcibly displaced communities, and stateless people, and to assist in their voluntary repatriation, local integration or resettlement to a third country. It is headquartered in Geneva, Switzerland, with over 17,300 staff working in 135 countries.

[4] Cesvi (Italian, "cooperazione e sviluppo", cooperation and development) is an Italian humanitarian organizations. Founded in 1985, it has about 30 offices all over the world. Cesvi provides assistance in emergency situations (including famine and epidemics (especially malaria and dengue in the South East Asia, malaria and HIV/AIDS in Africa), helps refugees (e.g. North Uganda and DR Congo) and flood victims, supports reconstruction after disasters (earthquakes, tsunami), implements projects for sustainable development and environmental defence in poor countries. The organization is sponsored by Italian private donors (34%), public donors (European Union, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Italy, United Nations agencies), foundations, companies, local authorities. Among its fields of expertise are the problems of food/nutrition, HIV/AIDS, health, refugees and IDPs, shelter, water and sanitation.

[5] Ministerio de Ambiente y Desarrollo Sostenible https://www.minambiente.gov.co/

[6] Barrio Villa Betel de Santa Marta. https://www.las2orillas.co/barrio-villa-betel-de-santa-marta-entre-moscas-zancudos-basura-falta-de-agua-potable-y-olvido-estatal/

[7] Barrio El Ferry - Barranquilla

[8] Barranquilla is the capital district of Atlántico Department in Colombia. It is located near the Caribbean Sea and is the largest city and third port[5] in the Caribbean Coast region; as of 2018 it had a population of 1,206,319,making it Colombia's fourth-most populous city after Bogotá, Medellín, and Cali.

[9] This invasion, located between the El Ferry neighbourhood and the Magdalena River, is one of the poorest and most crowded areas of Barranquilla. https://www.elheraldo.co/atlantico/brisas-del-rio-el-barrio-donde-se-respiran-malos-olores-843977

[weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables]

Some pictures from Instagram (@valeweavesfables)! I rarely post happy snippets but I do draw a lot of happy, domestic scenes, so I thought I’d share them over here too!  In order, we have:

-A party on the beach of Nevenkita, in which wine is drunk and dances are had and many people kiss (which might be in the story);

-Klara and Defìo sharing oranges at Klara’s place (already in the story);

-Milda and Koro with their adopted child Libelo;

-Slightly younger Klara and Defìo sharing a rare moment of peace;

-Defìo braiding Sun’s hair in the garden by Moon’s Library where she exiled herself (probably will be in the story);

-Sun and Scio braving the snow, ft the new and updated Shorin uniform;

-Scio showing Sun Moon’s birthplace (a cave by the sea), of which I posted a snippet 

Taglist (let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged): @dreamywritingdragon @pheita @toboldlywrite @lady-redshield-writes @toomuchplot @kriss-the-writing-nerd @rosesonneptune @create-and-procrastinate @tabbycatwrites

[quilloftheclouds]

Your hurricane Has blackened out the sun Play your game In the tangled web you spun Send your rain While water fills my lungs

I can feel the ache I still bleed and break Though my heart is made of stone

--- Bones - 8 Graves

Io, stealing is Celestine’s job. Look, now you’ve made them sad!

... I may have gone overboard with the effects, here. Shh.

WAIT QUILL DRAWS THINGS????

Io’s uniform is not historically accurate but it’s called AESTHETIC. Aka fanciness. She is Very Fancy. (Besides, it’s on an alternate Earth, I can do whatever the heck I want~) Someone heckin’ teach Quill how to draw a tricorne hat I AM SO CONFUSED.

Hey!! Remember how the synopsis of One Siren’s Soul says they have to “get back a stolen magical artifact”? I wonder! What stolen magical artifact!! That could be!!! (It’s definitely not the Siren’s Soul. Nope, nuh uh. Dunno what you’re talking about.)

Want to learn more about One Siren’s Soul? Have some links!

Intro Post | WIP Page | General Tag | Excerpts | OC Intros/Playlists

OSS Taglist; @scottishhellhound @mvcreates @half-explored @waterfallwritings @runningonrain @bookish-actor @bookenders @mouwwie @onfablesandfictions @anaestheticdisaster @yearlyaquariace @elizabethsyson @your-local-imagination-station @imaghostwriter @orphicodysseywrites @esoteric-eclectic-eccentric @elisabethrosewrites @lookslikechill @fuyuuki513 @purpleshadows1989 @fiama-l-hernandez @tenacious-scripturient @mackerelwrites @writingwitherebus @lady-redshield-writes @bloomseey-writes @livvywrites @planets-and-prose @dcdarrells @halfbloodlycan @penzag @sunlight-and-starskies @pen-in-hand @scribe-the-write-thing @leave-her-a-tome @royalbounties @ardawyn @klywrites @dogwrites @semblanche @tricksexual @writingnosefreak @lost----souls @penumbrics @dove-actually @kriss-the-writing-nerd @vhum @writinginslowmotion @wrenegade-writes @livingthelovelylife @wildswrites @kowlazovdi @weathershade @thewritinggodmother @ettawritesnstudies @belles-library @emdrabbles @iced-ginger-tea @griffinwriting @hermiones-writeblrr @milkyway-writes

Quill’s Art Taglist; @royalbounties @bookenders @aslanwrites @adenhamcreations

Let me know by comment/reply/ask/etc if you want to be added or removed to either of the above!

[bookenders]

Baisemain for The Overseer??

[Send me a word and a character and I’ll write a drabble!]

I hope you’re ready for some serious second-hand embarrassment, because The Overseer is a mess.

I’m adding the FF tag list at the end because I think you all need to see how much of a mess he is.

Baisemain - A kiss on the hand.

They were introducing him to Nightmare today.

The Nightmare. Greatest villain of current-time. The baddest of the bad, the coolest of the cool. The one who knows everything you’re afraid of and uses it against you.

And he was about to meet her. One on one.

Oh, God.

Was he ready for this? He just got recruited like a month ago. And he’s only assisted on, like, one crime. He was a nobody about to meet the biggest Somebody there was.

He was not ready for this. Was it too late to go home?

The two guards on either side of him moved forward, which was as good a sign as any that yes, it was too late, and that this will be happening no matter what.

They hadn’t even let him wear his control band to the meeting.

The wide double doors at the end of the long hallway opened, and there he was. Standing in the Council Chambers flanked by two beefy body guards, standing ten feet away from the head of the Council.

Nightmare.

She was wearing her uniform, of course she was. All dark and grey and black and red, with black gloves and a black mask pulled halfway up her face like a bandit. She wasn’t wearing her hood. Red hair, artfully curled, fell to her shoulders. She smiled at him. He could tell, it showed in her eyes. They were green.

Nightmare had red hair and green eyes. She was probably Irish. That was pretty neat.

One of the bodyguards poked him in the back. Right.

He stepped forward.

Nightmare held out a hand. 

“Welcome to the CIIP, Overseer.” Her voice was muffled behind the mask, and there was a slight modulation, as though the fabric itself was filtering it in some way. Cool.

And, actually, it was The Overseer, but that sounded weird in conversation like this and he wasn’t about to correct Nightmare. Oh my God, no.

“Uh,” he said. “Hi. I mean, thanks. Thank you. Ma’am.”

He took her hand and, in a fit of brain-dead panic, leaned over and kissed it like a Renaissance Fair try-hard.

Nightmare’s eyebrows shot up nearly to her hairline. Behind her mask, her face scrunched up, the apples of her cheeks pushing up under her eyes and-

She laughed.

“At ease, my lord,” she said, and pulled her hand away.

And that’s how The Overseer died.

No, really. He did. On the inside, anyway.

One of the body guards cleared his throat.

Nightmare waved him goodbye as they took him back to his temporary quarters on the third floor of the Council building.

Before he went to sleep, Overseer fell over onto his bed, shoved his face into his pillow, and screamed.

WIP Intro Post | FF WIP Tag | WIP Page | PowerPoint Intro

Character Tags: Iron Will | Overseer | Lithium | Babylon | Nightmare | Sparkplug

OC Intro Post:  Phase 1 | Phase 2

Individual Intros:

Phase 1 (Main Cast): Iron Will | Overseer | Lithium |  Babylon | Nightmare

Phase 2 (Supporting Cast): Sparkplug | Battalion | Ferro

***

[Let me know if you want to be added or removed!]

Fish Food Tag List:  @theevolutionofledarose, @kriss-the-writing-nerd, @quilloftheclouds, @waterfallwritings, @dontwritethatone, @aeschknight, @abalonetea, @ladywithalamp, @writevevo, @danger-writes, @disfunctionaldeity-writes, @sunlight-and-starskies, @writing-every-other-star, @shadeshadow234, @jaimistoryteller, @leave-her-a-tome

[pftones3482]

Good Vibes

Commission for @kriss-the-writing-nerd. Ugh, sorry this took so long. It was a lot of fun to write, though! 

Klance/hunay/shallura/krolivan (is that their ship name cause it should be) ahoy. Under a cut for length.

~~

They floated for a long time in front of the glowing, purple light in front of them, lion tails swishing aimlessly in the void of space as they all drifted closer to one another without meaning to.  

“What is it?” Pidge finally asked.

Allura shook her head, squinting at the light. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Coran?”

Coran shook his head, twisting the corners of his mustache. He had an uneasy look on his face. “Not a wink, Princess. Perhaps Krolia?”

“I’ll wake her up,” Shiro offered, ducking from the cockpit and into the cargo hold, where Krolia had been sleeping off her portion of watch. He returned mere seconds later with the still somewhat sleepy Galra in tow, her gaze alert but her jaw splitting in a yawn. It froze when she saw the light in front of them.  

“By Antok,” she muttered, leaning over Keith’s seat and staring in awe at the light. “I haven’t seen one of these in...ages.”  

“You know what it is, then?” Coran clarified.

Krolia nodded once. “Yes. It is not harmful to us. You must fly through it.”  

Hunk frowned. “Through it? We could just go around it though, right? It ends a couple hundred feet up.”

A smile quirked at the edges of Krolia’s lips. “It seems that way, yes. But this field is impossible to bypass. Frankly I’m amazed you haven’t come across it before.”

“What is it?” Lance asked, lifting an eyebrow.  

“The Blades call it “The Light of Peace.” It’s a literal term; when you travel through it, you see what would most bring you complete peace.”

Everyone relaxed. “That’s not bad, then,” Pidge said, a small smile on her face. “I’d...probably see my mom and dad and Matt, right?”

Krolia pressed her lips into a thin line. “Potentially. However, The Light often shows people things that they aren’t expecting. So you may expect your parents or Matt, or perhaps what you really need to feel most at peace is just a long nap. There is no telling what you will see. Any of you.”

“Well...that’s still not a bad thing,” Keith reasoned, shrugging. “We just go through and come out, right?”  

Krolia’s nose wrinkled this time. “Yes, but you will all see each other’s needs.”

That made everyone shut up for a moment, and then Romelle spoke, her voice hesitant. “Well if we can’t avoid it...we don’t really have a choice then, do we?”

“Romelle is right,” Shiro agreed, nodding. “We’ll go through. Whatever you see of each other, whatever happens...everyone stays respectful. Krolia, is there any order to whose we see first?”

Krolia tilted her head. “Yes. Generally, whoever is first in the group to enter. You will not see anything until everyone is in the light, though.”  

“I’ll go first,” Allura volunteered. Her cheeks were a bit flushed. “I...Coran and myself...I can probably imagine what we will both see.”  

She lifted a hand and squeezed Coran’s reassuringly, and then man nodded. Pidge tilted her head. “I’ll go next,” she murmured, glancing towards Kosmo, who had taken to sleeping in her lion, as it was quietest. “Just me and the dog, right?”

They all slowly piped up, verbally drawing straws. Keith, Shiro, and Krolia, being in the largest lion, would bring up the flank so that they could keep an eye out for safety purposes until everyone was in.  

Allura’s grip tightened on Blue’s controls and Pidge swerved Green up to drift just behind her. Everyone else fell into line, Hunk after Pidge and Lance and Romelle following.  

For a minute or two, everyone was silent. The purple light slid over everyone and, true to Krolia’s word, no one saw anything but the light and each other as they pulled forwards.  

The moment Black’s tail curled into the light, however, everyone’s visions went white.

~~

Coran.  

A man with dark skin and twinkling silver eyes turned and tucked a flower behind Coran’s ear, his lips curled up in a laugh. A toddler with pointy ears and bright orange hair clung to his hips, trills of “Daddy!” reaching everyone’s ears. Her mouth was wide with a smile, and there were grass stains on her knees.  

Another child, slightly older, played in the distance, zooming rocket sounds falling from his mouth as he swerved a miniature Castle of Lions around the heavens. His hair was dark and curly, eyes glistening oceans, and he was wearing a cardboard paladin suit.  

They were on Earth, or at least, what looked to be Earth, if Earth were made up of only the tidbits the paladins had given him. They sat in the grass, but an ocean lapped on their left. Clouds drifted through the sky, sprinkling water every so often.  

On another rise, in plain view, sat the paladins, laughing and shoving at each other, no longer in uniform. The lions sat behind them, guarding and silent, and chuckled rumbles filtered over the land as Hunk started a food fight.  

A hand settled on Coran’s shoulder and he turned, finding a much older man standing there, orange hair grayed to almost silver, hints of the pumpkin color sparkling here and there. The wrinkles around his eyes were kind, and he nodded to the castle ship in the boy’s hand.  

“You did well, Coran. I forgive you for blowing up my ship.”  

~~

The stabbing feeling in the gut startled everyone as they slipped from the vision, blinking and wide eyed. Everyone instantly turned to the feed from the blue lion, where Allura had twisted back in her seat and was holding Coran’s hand tightly.  

The man’s other hand was pressed to his mouth, and they could all see the trembling of his shoulders. Allura’s words were gentle, soft, and no one had time to join in, because the next wave rolled over them.

~~

Allura.  

“And here is my favorite juniberry field!” Allura exclaimed, spinning in a circle of flowers.  

The paladins watched her in amusement as she took Romelle’s hand and dragged her into the field, her gaze bright. “You have been missing out,” she laughed.  

Romelle snorted, looking around the land with awe. “I can see that,” she agreed. “Altea really is quite lovely.”  

“Isn’t it? I’m so glad you could all be here to see it,” Allura said, turning to the paladins with a small smile. “I cannot wait to see Earth now that you have gotten to see my home.”

“Allura!”

She turned to find her mother leaning out the door of the palace, waving a hand. “Come along! Your father has prepared dinner for you all!”

“Coming mother!”

Allura skipped over to the paladins, wrapping a tight arm around Pidge and lacing her fingers through Shiro’s human hand with ease. He drew it up to his lips and pressed a quick kiss to her skin.  

“Come on!” she said. “My father makes the most amazing Baked Termasin. It is simply to die for.”

Hunk lifted an eyebrow. “Think he’d give me the recipe?”

Allura laughed. “Only if you could actually find Termasin on Earth. It cannot be substituted.”

~~

“We’ll have a moment of reprieve,” Krolia said as the vision faded. “Since there was a gap between the blue lion entering and the green lion. Pidge, be ready at any moment. It will feel very real to you.”  

Pidge nodded seriously, but everyone was looking at Allura, who had her face, flaming red, buried in her hands. Shiro shifted awkwardly in the black lion, his cheeks pink. His mouth opened, and then closed, and then Lance spoke.  

“We said no judgement,” he said, his voice soft and calm. He looked incredibly at ease with what they had all just seen.  

Shiro’s shoulders seemed to relax and he nodded firmly. “Absolutely,” he agreed, tone gentle.  

Allura peeked up through her fingers and managed a weak smile.  

~~

Pidge

“Come oooonnnn, Pidge,” Matt teased, dragging her by the hand to the convention center. ”Your paladin outfit is totally going to blow the competition away!”  

“Matt, I AM a paladin! I can’t just enter the costume contest, that’s cheating!”

“The others are doing it!”

Pidge glanced over his shoulder and snorted at the sight of the other paladins, also dressed in their armor, standing around and chatting while they waited for the siblings. She glanced back at the car and waved at her parents with a roll of her eyes. “If I don’t come back, it’s ‘cause Matt killed me with embarrassment!” she shouted to them.

Sam gave her a very cheeky thumbs up and they sped off before Pidge could protest further. As they got closer, the group noticed her and started calling out, yelling teasing jaunts that spurred her on further.  

“Our first Comic Con after we save the freaking planet and I’m an attraction,” Pidge grumbled, crossing her arms. There was no fire to her words, only mirth, and Matt laughed.  

His eyes twinkled in the sunlight as he shook his head and shoved her the last few feet to her friends. “Come on, Pidgeon, you’ll have fun.”  

“Where are you going?” Pidge demanded.  

Matt winked. “Oh come on, you didn’t think I’d come here in jeans, did you? I’ll be right back!”

He jogged off and Shiro shook his head. “He’s definitely dressing up as a rebel from Star Wars.”  

Pidge guffawed. “Oh my god, he so is,” she realized.  

Lance grinned, cheeky, and slung his arm around Keith’s shoulders. “We should have all brought our own Star Wars costumes just to fuck with him.”  

“Language, Lance,” Shiro scolded, though his face quivered with a grin of his own.  

Lance stuck his tongue out and Pidge laughed, looking up at the convention center. “I guess if we’re our own attraction, we should probably go inside,” she mused.  

“This will either end badly, or we’ll get mobbed,” Hunk said.  

“Hunk, neither of those things are good,” Allura pointed out.  

“You’re right.”  

~~

Kosmo

Keith was smiling.  

Hunk squatted next to Kosmo, scratching him behind the ears in the best spot and feeding him something tasty. His tail flipped with excitement.  

Keith was smiling more. Hugging Shiro. Hugging Lance. His mom.  

Lance was laying against his flank, talking out loud and pointing at the stars. Kosmo couldn’t understand him, much, but he could feel the happiness radiating off the boy.  

“What about Kosmo?”  

“I like the name Kosmo!”  

Kosmo liked the name Kosmo, too. It was a good name.  

Pidge put her glasses on his nose. He couldn’t see, but that was okay. She was laughing.  

Keith was smiling.  

~~

The flash passed, and Pidge turned to look at Kosmo, eyes wide. The dog looked at her expectantly, letting out a soft woof, and she chuckled, reaching out and scratching the dog’s head. “Guess he told you his name, Keith.”  

Keith scoffed, though his face was soft. “You guys totally influenced him.”  

~~

Hunk

The sun rose over the Balmera with a burst of orange and yellow, and Hunk’s mother gasped in delight, covering her heart with her hands and letting out a soft sigh of delight. Hunk’s father hummed in approval and wrapped his arm around the woman, a smile on his lips.  

Hunk grinned at their reaction and turned to Shay with a laugh. “I told you they’d like it.”

Shay smiled, eyes flicking to Hunk’s parents and then back to Hunk, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “Yes, I suppose you did. I am glad they like it. Do you?”  

Hunk’s smile softened. “Of course I do, you know I do.”

“And the others?”

They glanced back at the lions, waiting patiently. The other paladins were tiny specks up on the shoulders and maws of their ships, only the colors of their armor differentiating them. Allura and Shiro stood shoulder to shoulder, Pidge seated a bit of a way from them on Green. Kosmo was curled around her hip, and Romelle sat next to them.  

Keith and Lance were sitting on Red’s nose, pressed side to side, Lance leaning in close to presumably say something. Coran stood behind them on the top of Red’s head, a respectful amount of space between him and Krolia.  

“I think they do, too,” Hunk promised, turning back to the girl.  

Shay hummed and leaned against him, her arm curling around his shoulders.  

~~

“Hunk, you player!” Lance teased.  

Hunk squawked, sinking in his seat. “I thought we said no judgement!”

“We did,” Allura said, glaring at Lance.  

Lance lifted his hands, cheeks a bit pink. “Hey man, no judgement. You and Shay? Total couple goals.”  

“We’re next,” Romelle noted, her voice soft. “Unless the cow-”

~~

Kaltenecker

Green. So much green. Everywhere.  

Pretty flowers. They tasted like honey.  

A blur of colors, mice. Running up to her nose.  

They squeaked. Happy sounds.  

Friends.

~~

Everyone blinked and Hunk snorted, shaking his head. “Figures the cow would have the easiest time being at peace.”  

“To be fair, she is in a giant war ship right now,” Pidge pointed out. “I’m sure she wants nothing more than to not be in space.”  

“Relatable.”  

`~~

Romelle  

“Romelle! Mother says it’s time for supper!” Bandor called out from the door of their house.  

Romelle turned to Allura and Coran, her eyes twinkling. The wind around them billowed her skirts, lifted her hair around her shoulders. The light drifted across the hills surrounding them, bathing the Alteans in a soft light. “I cannot wait for my father and mother to meet you. Father has always talked of the ancient Alteans with a fondness.”  

Coran chuckled, settling a hand on Romelle’s shoulder. “I’m sure I can tell him all about ancient Altea, if he’d like. I have some fantastic stories from my days of youth!”

Allura winced. “Perhaps...perhaps leave those out of your tellings.”  

“Why ever would I do that?”

Romelle giggled and took Allura’s hand tugging her towards the hut. ”I’m sure father would love to hear of all the eccentricities you indulged in, Coran. And Allura, my mother is a seamstress. I’m sure she’d love to hear of the royal clothing you wore.”  

“Of course,” Allura laughed. “I would very much be happy to describe them to her.”  

The grass tickled their feet and ankles as they walked, and, just before they got inside, Romelle turned back. “Will the paladins be joining us?”  

“In a matter of time,” Coran said with a nod.

Romelle clasped her hands together, eyes twinkling in delight. “Wonderful! I’ll go tell Bandor to add more place settings!”  

~~

Romelle frowned as the light faded, tears streaking her cheeks. “That felt so...short, compared to the others.”  

Lance reached over and squeezed her wrist reassuringly. His mouth was set in a thin line as he prepared for his own vision. Krolia spoke up after a moment of silence, answering the implied question. “The less you need to feel peace, the shorter the vision.”

Romelle sighed, looking away, and let her hand slip into Lance’s so that she could return the reassurance.  

~~

Lance

Lindy wound her arms tight around Lance’s neck, her pigtails billowing in the wind as they watched the sunrise from the top of Red’s nose. “Uncle Lance?”  

“Yeah baby?”  

“Can I drive Red someday?”  

Lance spluttered a laugh, twisting to plaster a kiss to his niece’s cheek. She squealed in disgust, bouncing away, and Lance kept a careful hand on her hip to keep her from falling off the edge. “You better be able to reach the floor with your feet, first, silly.”  

Lindy pouted but accepted the answer, and Lance stood, scooping her into his arms and descending into Red’s cockpit and out of the lion all together. She clung to his jacket, breath warm against Lance’s neck, and when Lance stepped outside he handed her off to his brother. “You’ll be home for lunch?” he asked, shifting Lindy to his hip.  

“Absolutely. I’ve got something to do first, though. Mind if I bring some guests?”  

“Go for it,” Marco chuckled. “I’m sure Mama is preparing extra in anticipation of that.”  

“Thanks, man.”

Marco waved and trudged off with his daughter, leaving Lance to rock on his heels and stick his hands in his pockets, staring out at the surf and at the rising sun. The sky was plastered in vibrant pinks, yellows, and oranges, dusting the clouds with rose gold and looking more like a painting than real life.  

“If you stare at the sun too long your eyes will burn.”  

Lance snorted and tossed a look at Keith as the young man stepped over, his nose wrinkling as the sand shifted under him. “Shut up, Keith.”  

Keith stuck his tongue out and stopped next to Lance, their shoulders bumping. Behind him were Pidge, Hunk, Romelle, and Allura, splashing through the surf with a very wet and slobbery Kosmo, who appeared to love the ocean almost as much as Lance. Krolia and Coran watched from the shore, and Lance could see Shiro sneaking up behind Allura from under the water, a grin on his face.  

“You know, Shiro really is just a teenager in an adult body,” Lance mused, watching as Allura was tackled and Shiro immediately got punched in the face.

Keith, also watching the scene, choked on a laugh. “God, you have no idea. You know my hover bike?”

“Yeah?”  

“He taught me to ride it.”  

Lance nodded, humming. “Ah. That explains...pretty much everything, actually.”  

Keith chuckled and looked back to the sunrise. His hand stretched over to Lance’s, and their fingers twined together without hassle, Lance’s thumb rubbing soothing circles over Keith’s knuckles. “Seriously though, you should stop staring at the sun. You’ll go blind.”  

“You’re not my mother.”  

“Thank god for that,” Keith snickered, pressing a quick kiss to Lance’s cheek.  

~~

Dead silence.  

Lance was gone from his screen, and so was Romelle, Red seemingly on auto pilot, so everyone instead turned to Keith, whose face was bright pink. Pidge lifted a slow eyebrow. “Okay, uh...?”

“No judgement,” Romelle snapped, appearing on screen again. Her eyes were flashing more violently than anyone had ever seen prior. Her gaze shifted to Keith, and the harshness faded a little. “No judgement.”  

Keith swallowed and nodded.

~~

Krolia

“You lived...here?” Kolivan asked, his nose wrinkling as he took in the forlorn shack in front of him.  

Krolia, in jeans and a t-shirt, huffed and shoved at his arm, a playful grin on her face. “Shut it! Not like many other people would have taken in a quiznaking alien, and you know it!”  

Kolivan rolled his eyes but glanced to her, his smile softening. “I’m glad he did take you in. It was noble of him.”  

Krolia grumbled but nodded, ducking her head. “Yes. It was. According to Keith, he was a very noble person.”

“Seems Keith gets it from both sides, then.”  

Keith, as if he had been summoned, popped his head from inside the cabin, a grin on his face. “Mom! Kolivan! Come on, you’re going to love this card game! It’s right up your alley! All sarcasm and violence!”

Krolia snorted and shook her head, taking Kolivan’s hand and leading him into the shack, where the paladins and Coran were gathered about the floor, all of them with a set of seven white cards in their hands.  

Pidge was leaning over to Coran, Romelle, and Allura, pointing between the white cards and the black cards on the floor and explaining the rules. Lance was attempting to sneak a peek at Keith’s cards, left on the table, but Keith dove in and swatted him off before he could.  

Keith scooted over and patted the floor next to him and Krolia smiled, sinking to the ground next to him and tugging Kolivan down with her. Hunk appeared from the kitchen with a massive platter of nachos and settled down next to Allura, handing around the plate as Krolia drew her set of cards.  

“All right, explain the rules.”

~~

“Mom, you flirt,” Keith teased, though his cheeks were still pink.  

“You know, all I’m getting from all of these visions is that everyone wants something to eat,” Allura laughed.  

~~

Shiro  

“I’m sorry,” Shiro said, voice soft. “I’m sorry that you...that you had to go through all of this without me.”  

Adam sighed and ran a tired hand over his eyes, glasses pushed to his forehead. ”Takashi, I...when I thought you were dead...that was the hardest time of my life. The last three years, knowing you were alive? It gave me some time...gave me some time to think.”  

“Me too,” Shiro murmured. He sighed, shoulders slumping, and looked away, rubbing his jaw. “Adam, I don’t...we can’t go back. To where we were. I’ve had a lot of time, most of that time fighting for my life, and I’ve grown.”  

“I know,” Adam said. His voice was careful, but his eyes were knowing. “Plus it’s...it’s not me anymore, is it?”  

Shiro glanced over his shoulder at the paladins, who were excitedly showing Coran and Allura around the Garrison. Allura looked up mid-laugh, caught him watching, and waved cheerfully. He waved back, tentative, and then turned back to Adam, who was eyeing the interaction with a soft sadness. “It’s not,” Shiro admitted.  

Adam took a breath and Shiro reached out, dusting a hand across his cheek. “It was, once,” he promised. “And I know it was for you to me, too. But if you’re telling me that after almost five years without me, you didn’t find someone else?”  

Adam’s shoulders dropped and he nodded, slow. Shiro let out a shaky sigh. “Then I hope you’re happy. I am. I want you to be, too.”  

“Thank you, Takashi. I am. And I’m glad you are.”  

Shiro nodded once, and then pulled Adam in for a tight hug.

~~

Shiro shuddered as the vision left, pressing a hand to his mouth. Krolia’s hand settled on his shoulder and Keith’s on his hand, and the knot in his chest loosened a little.  

“I didn’t know you and Officer West were...”

“Your gaydar is seriously broken, Hunk,” Lance grumbled, and everyone jumped, no one having seen him return to his seat.  

Hunk huffed and threw his hands up. “Apparently!”  

“Last one,” Krolia announced.

~~

Keith

The doors to the castle pool slid open and Keith stepped inside, promptly getting smacked in the face with a beach ball.  

“Sorry Keith!” Pidge cackled, racing past him and scooping up the ball before flinging herself back into the pool.  

“You’re definitely not!” he snapped back, laughing as he rubbed his head.  

“Yo, emo! Come join us!” Lance shouted from the deep end.  

Keith flipped him off and dropped his towel on the chair next to his mother, tugging his shirt off and throwing it down as well. ”Sure you don’t want to get in?” he asked.  

Krolia lifted a slow eyebrow. “And get tackled by 100 soaking wet pounds of Kosmo? I think not.”  

Keith hummed, glancing around the Altean pool for his dog and spotting him paddling next to Hunk. “Understandable. HEY KOSMO!”

The dog woofed and vanished from the pool. Keith side stepped rapidly, running for the pool and flinging himself in just as an outraged Krolia got a face full of wet space wolf. “YOU’RE GROUNDED, YOUNG MAN!”  

Keith whooped and hit the water with a flurry of bubbles. It had only taken the simple press of a button to flip the pool around, though Coran and Allura were confused about why they couldn’t all just walk up the walls and get into the pool that way. It took a lot of explaining to convince them that humans could not spider walk up the walls of anything, let alone a slick tiled pool wall.  

He popped up next to Lance, giving him a toothy grin, and Lance smirked back, nodding to Coran, floating nearby on a blow-up raft. “Thinking what I’m thinking?”  

“We’re gonna get murdered by his mustache?”  

“Oh totally.”  

“Let’s.”

They dove in sync and swam for the underside of the raft, Lance jerking up with his chin and floating just under it. He held up three fingers, brought them down slowly, and the moment his pointer went down, he and Keith shoved up as hard as they could.  

Coran was sent flying into the water with a yelp and Lance and Keith broke through the surface, bumping into one another and laughing as Coran came up, cursing in Altean, his mustache drooping.  

“If you die, I’m not saving you!” Allura called out.  

Shiro promptly dropped in on her, grabbing her by the shoulders and dunking her underwater. Lance burst into a new set of giggles, grabbing Keith’s hand and paddling them to the edge of the pool tile.  

Coran climbed from the water, mustache streaming, and shot them both a glare. “You will NOT hear the end of this,” he growled.  

Keith saluted and Lance shot him a set of finger guns before turning back to Keith. “Think he means it?”  

Keith snorted and ducked in, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s lips. “Probably. We’re gonna die tonight.”  

“Well shit.”  

~~

The field ended, the light fading behind them before the vision was totally gone, and the cockpits of all five lions were silent.  

“Okay, my gaydar is SERIOUSLY broken!” Hunk yelped, spinning in his chair.  

Lance’s face was bright red, hands covering his eyes, and Keith was a similar mirror image. Allura and Shiro were both blushing, refusing to meet each other's gaze. Krolia coughed.  

“That was...certainly a learning experience for all of us,” she managed.  

“YOU KISSED ME!” Lance spluttered, whipping up and pointing accusingly at Keith.  

“UM, SO DID YOU!?”

“YEAH, BUT MINE WAS ON THE CHEEK!”  

“IT STILL COUNTS!”  

“Hang on,” Pidge said, interrupting the gay crisis going on in over half the lions. Everyone froze, looking to her, and she frowned, glancing at Allura’s lion. “We saw Kaltenecker’s and Kosmo’s visions. How come we didn’t see the mice?”  

Everyone turned their gaze on the mice, standing silently on Allura’s shoulders. “That’s a...good point,” Shiro said, brows furrowing.  

Platt squeaked and Allura burst into laughter, shaking her head. “Platt says they’re happy with what they all have. Except they want more food.”  

“Apparently we all do,” Pidge said with a snort.  

Coran coughed into his fist. “I suggest we set up camp for the night. It seems there are some...things...that some of us need to discuss with each other.”

“Where’s the nearest body of water?” Lance groaned.  

“Do NOT.”  

[magicmonstersandmischief]

Supernaturals that need human components to live but don't want to kill follow murderous humans and large groups of military like vultures to pick at the remains. Most can wait, but those who need soul must swoop in shortly after death or the life essence might get away. Demons like Kriss sometimes even opt sport a certain sides uniform and enter battles themselves to best capture souls.

[shieldsupportstaff]

Kriss, Davis M., BS, MS. - Sanitation Engineer

Davis Michael Kriss III.  Born in 1969. Helicarrier Sanitation Engineer. Nickname: Trey.  Born in Boise, ID.  Civil Engineering BS from University of Idaho.   Masters in Civil and Environmental Engineering at Gonzaga University.  He worked on sanitation systems for cruise ships, with a focus on making the refuse environmentally inert before being jettisoned into the ocean.  He studies krav maga, has several belts in karate, and briefly entertained thoughts of going into MMA fighting. SHIELD recruited him after he quit the Princess Cruise lines in disgust.  They had hired him to fix their sanitation problems, but kept cutting corners on him, and pulling his budgets out from underneath him.  He was looking for something else when Ethel called him.  She'd gotten his resume from a friend of a friend of a friend.  He came in for an interview, passed the security clearance, and was in.   He rarely wears his SHIELD Uniform, even on the Helicarrier, and when he does his name tag, instead of Sanitation Engineer, says "Poopsmith."  The one time Fury saw it, he glared but said nothing.  Ethel doesn't get the joke, she just shrugs.   The day the Helicarriers fell Trey got jumped by some Hydra guys, and gave as good as he got, but was outnumbered. He’s not sure why they didn’t shoot him, probably got distracted by the building falling down around them.  They left him unconscious in a hallway of the Triskelion.  Rose pulled him out, barely conscious and mumbling about mother fuckers.  Fortunately, not much rubble had landed on him, he just had the broken bones and bruises from the fight.   He's at Stark Industries currently, his sanitation system designs complimenting Tony's "warm light for all humanity" projects.  He's only spoken to Tony a few times.  He doesn't judge.  But he does relish the challenges inherent in an emission-less system. Rose thinks he's a pain in the ass.  He kept swiping her guys to help him test things, or find things.  But he did make the sanitation systems more efficient and safer, which makes him aces in her book.  He's got the hots for Tim and Michael, but doesn't shit where he eats.  So he cruises the bars on the weekends looking for companionship.  

[escapades-planetaires]

Le Kraton, Palais Royal de Yogyakarta

Photos Bertrand Donadille, 14 juillet 2018

Le Sultanat de Yogyakarta (Kasultanan Ngayogyakarta Hadiningrat) constitue la quasi totalité du Territoire spécial de Yogyakarta (Daerah Istimewa Yogyakarta), sur l’île de Java, l’équivalent d’une province.   

Le mot Kraton (ou Keraton) provient du mot “ke-ratu-an” qui signifie en javanais “l'endroit où habite la reine / le roi”. 

Au sens large, le Keraton Ngayogyakarta Hardiningrat est le complexe royal de la cité de Yogyakarta et son centre spirituel, culturel et politique.

Enceinte fortifiée à l’intérieur de laquelle vivent 25 000 personnes, c’est un véritable village dans la ville, avec son marché, ses commerces, ses ateliers d’artisans, ses écoles et ses mosquées. 

C’est en quelque sorte un quartier hors du temps !

Le Kraton de Yogya (nom donné par les habitants) a été construit entre 1755 et 1790 par le fondateur de la cité, le sultan Hamengku Buwono I.

Il est inscrit sur la liste du Patrimoine mondial de l’UNESCO depuis 1995.

On entre dans le palais principal en rejoignant Pelataran (la cour) Kemandungan Lor (ou Keben, du nom des arbres qui y sont plantés) où se trouve la billetterie.

On pénètre alors par Regol Sri Manganti - regol est une entrée, un passage, généralement monumental, dans une muraille - dans le Complexe Sri Manganti dans lequel se dressent ce qui étaient des salles de réception : 

- Bangsal (le pavillon) Sri Manganti où le sultan accueillait les invités importants ;

- Bangsal Trajumas où les fonctionnaires du sultan s’occupaient de ces invités.

Aujourd’hui, ces pavillons sont utilisés à des fins culturelles en servant de décor pour l’expression des arts javanais de la scène.

On peut voir ici, dans le Bangsal Trajumas, le Wayang Kulit ou Théâtre d’ombre (”Wayang” signifie “ombre”),  un spectacle populaire de marionnettes indonésiennes manipulées par le dalang,  à la fois marionettiste-narrateur et chef de la troupe.

Les chanteuses (pesinden) et les chanteurs (wirasuara) sont accompagnés par un gamelan, l’orchestre traditionnel à Bali et Java, avec xylophones, gongs et tambours comme instruments principaux.

Dans le Wayang Kulit, on utilise des marionnettes plates en cuir, “kulit” étant la traduction de “peau” (vache ou buffle).

Suivant les jours, on peut assister également à des spectacles de danse, des concerts de gamelan ou à la déclamation de poésie javanaise (macapat).

On poursuit la visite en empruntant Regol Danapratopo (ou Danapratapa), “surveillée” par les Abdi Dalem, les serviteurs du Kraton qui dédient leur vie au sultan (”abdi”, “servir” et “dalem”, “intérieur”).

On accède alors à Pelataran Kedaton, la "cour royale", partie la plus centrale du palais, le lieu de vie du souverain.

En effet, le Kedaton ou Kedhaton est toujours la résidence du roi de Yogyakarta, qui est aussi gouverneur du territoire, Sri Sultan Hamengku Buwono X, et de sa famille.

Il inclut des salles d’exposition aux collections diverses, mais surtout de splendides bangsal et gedong (ou gedhong, “bâtiment”).

Le premier que l’on aperçoit est le Bangsal Mandalasana, un kiosque à musique européen des années 1920, aux vitraux décorés d’instruments de musique.

Il ne faut pas oublier qu’au début du XXe siècle - jusqu’en 1942 et l’invasion des troupes japonaises - Java, et l’Indonésie, était encore une colonie néerlandaise,  

A droite du kiosque se trouve le quartier privée du sultan. 

On peut voir une galerie avec, d’abord, Panti Sumbaga, la bibliothèque. Puis, après l’arcade, le Gedong Purworetno ou Purwaretna (avec l’auvent vert). C’est l’emplacement du bureau officiel de Hamengku Buwono X (HB X).

Dans le prolongement, il y a le Gedong Jene (ou kuning), le “Palais Jaune” (le jaune, couleur du soleil, est le symbole du Dieu suprême). C’était auparavant la résidence du roi régnant. Maintenant, sous la souveraineté de Sri Sultan HB X, ce bâtiment est utilisé pour accueillir des invités importants.

La résidence officielle actuelle, le Kraton Kilen est située dans la même zone derrière tous ces édifices.

Le bâtiment le plus haut, dans le fond, est le Gedong Proboyekso (ou Prabayeksa), l'endroit où le patrimoine royal est conservé : bijoux, trône et autres symboles.

Enfin, devant ce dernier, nous avons le Bangsal Kencana (ou Kencono), le “pavillon d’or” (ci-dessous également).

C’est le grand hall de réception, le pendopo, nom qui vient du mot sanskrit “mandapa”, “pavillon”.

Il symbolise le volcan Merapi, lieu sacré pour les Javanais.

Admirez le sol en marbre et les magnifiques colonnes en teck sculptées

Dans le temps, c’était la salle du trône où se tenaient les audiences royales. Aujourd’hui, il est utilisé pour recevoir les invités les plus importants et pour des cérémonies traditionnelles comme celle du couronnement du sultan.

A côté du Bangsal Kencana, se trouve le Bangsal Manis, le “pavillon sucré” qui sert pour les dîners officiels.

Il est décoré avec des vitraux de style hollandais et des lustres en cristal de Bohême. 

On peut y admirer une tête sculptée de Rakshasa, créature légendaire de la mythologie hindoue, qui symbolise ici, Kâla, le dieu de la destruction dans la mythologie javanaise.

Accolé au mur sud de Pelataran Kedaton, le Gedong Patehan est le bâtiment où des Abdi Dalem sont chargés de préparer des boissons et notamment du thé pour les besoins du palais.

Le nom de “Patehan” lui-même vient du mot "thé".

Dans le gedong se trouve également le Museum Cangkir (Musée de la Coupe) qui présente des ustensiles de cuisine liés aux boissons.

Sur la terrasse couverte est exposé ce palanquin royal du XIXe siècle.

Un peu plus loin, en sortant de la Cour Royale, on arrive, à l’extrémité sud-est du Kedaton. au Gedong Kaca, le Museum Sri Sultan Hamengku Buwono IX dédié à sa mémoire et inauguré en 1992 par son fils, l’actuel sultan.

Dans ce nouveau pavillon vitré au plafond surchargé on a reconstitué son bureau.

Enfin, en bordure du mur Est, il y a le quartier Kesatriyan qui servait à une époque de résidence aux fils célibataires du roi.

Le lieu est utilisé aujourd’hui pour l’organisation d’activités événementielles. 

L’édifice principal de cet espace est le Pendapa Kesatriyan dans lequel une exposition d’instruments de gamelan est visible.

Dans la cour, comme dans le reste du palais, un Abdi Dalem en uniforme traditionnel et armé de son kriss (une sorte de poignard), veille à la tranquillité des lieux.

Précédemment : Le Taman Sari

[rebelsaint1998-blog]

Darkness Dearest

The nightstand next to me is littered with worthless pieces of gold and poetry written in a sane man’s moments of madness, and furthermore is nearly black with the thoughts of death and self-destruction that reach from the mind to the hand as I turn off the lamp. The clock strikes one in the morning, I sink down into the unturned mattress, and my ghosts appear and speak words of inspiration and hatred and death, we converse, and I occasionally write down a thought created in light but surrounded by a cloak of darkness. The rugged ceiling opens its’ scaly mouth to reveal my deepest fears and disappointments. My happiness and joy-in-living hang on my door, to be forgotten until the morning, when society tells me that I need it again. The closet acts as the gateway for the keys to the abyss, my uniforms hanging pristinely, in sharp contrast with the rest of the room. My floor is a minefield, covered with things I’m told matter but seem insignificant compared to the suicidal thoughts my ancestors throw at me from the ceiling. “I am Death,” I say, and know at the same time that I am very much alive, unfortunately.

Well, if I am to be Death, then I must kill. I start with Pride, as it wants to claim that it died first, in defense of the others. Then, Happiness hangs itself by the handle so it won’t feel the pain Pain is feeling at the moment, my kriss blade in its’ stomach. Anger stands in the corner, smoking a rolled cigarette, and I know I don’t dare to even touch it, as I owe it too many favors. Hatred stands beside it, smirking under the neon lights of the tavern of my soul. Sadness sits, huddled in a ball, between the two, hoping I won’t notice it. I leave the three alone, because they have done me so little harm, and the rest are the sources of my problems. Joy-in-living’s corpse is shoved in a trash can, merely bones, for it truly died long ago and I only wear its’ skin. Love comes riding down from the black heavens in a golden chariot, face wet from the rain and tears. I shoot it straight in the chest, and it falls to the ground. I take its’ hat as a means of identification for when I enter the bar. Everyone greets me; my family, my friends, people I passed in the street on a third grade field trip, and they see a smile, a wave in greeting, while I only walk up to the counter and order the strongest drink of self-annihilation I’ve got.

One-oh-one. I leave the bar after tankards full of self-pity and demoralization. For fun, I play Russian Roulette with a gun I stole from the cowboy-demon next to me. Six bullets run through my brain, but my heart doesn’t feel a thing. As I question my reason for existing, Emerson, Jesus, Siddhartha, Marx, Sun Tzu, Ghandi, and hundreds of other philosophers join me and discuss my life and my merits, failures, and evils. We all concur that my mission to end myself is a Holy one.

One-oh-two. I awaken from my two minute nap and, once again, glance around the room. My demons still sit in an Iowa caucus with my angels, throwing insults and chairs across the room while I, the moderator, stand yelling even louder with my gavel in a constant vertical motion from and to the table. I can’t help but feel exhausted as I lie in bed, Death caressing me like a lover. I reach for the revolver on the nightstand. Once for my soul. Spin. Cock. Click. Nothing. Twice for my love. Spin. Cock. Click. Nothing. Thrice for the Trinity. Spin. Cock. Click.

Nothing forever more.

[bookenders]

When Your Song is Over and Done: Part 2

Apologies for the late post! Life is happening and making everything a bit jumbly.

If you follow the link below (desktop only) it will take you to the full story, where I’ve added the second part to the first. This is how I’ll do it for this page.

The full text is under the cut, as well, for the ease of you lovely mobile users. 💜

PART 2

WC: 980

Genre: Fantasy, Adventure, Drama, #feels

CW: brief mentions of past violence, angst, D&D-typical combat, grief, mention of past death, longing, brief mention of alcohol use, loneliness, submitting to the mortifying ordeal of being known

Link to the playlist

LINK TO STORY

Link to Part 1

[Part 2:]

Alain didn’t want any pomp and circumstance for himself. Gennon and Kelfir were the only two of the Saviors to enjoy the Victory Tour they took around the country, visiting every capital and collecting laurels from their sovereigns. Lennal had left as soon as the portal closed behind them, locking the Betrayer away once and for all and leaving him at the will of his angered patron.  She’d had enough of heroes and kings. All she wanted now, she had said, was to return to her people and heal the damage done by the demons the Betrayer had freed from the dark realms. Gennon had been appointed captain of the guard in the Elven capital of Asho Lenora. Last Alain heard, the man had changed the uniform colors to silver and cobalt, the same shades as his own heraldry. Kelfir, always the odd one, their little sneak thief, volunteered to run the country's largest orphanage. She absolutely refused to accept payment. In her eyes, it was the least she could do.

Every night he told the people of Denmore stories of his fellow Saviors, his friends. For weeks, he filled their nights with fireballs shot from parapets, dragons’ roars and tearing talons, Hill Giants’ clubs clashing against Gennon’s shield, Kelfir’s sharp wit freeing them from bring doomed to prison, and Lennal’s glowing eyes and hands, gifts from her goddess, heralding them through storm after storm. He rarely sang his own praises; whenever someone asked, he told them that he was there for moral support.

What he didn’t say was that one night, when he and Kelfir shared watch duty, she had cried into his shoulder and mourned the family she never had, since the next day she might be killed without ever having had the chance to find one for herself. He didn’t say that one afternoon, after they had lifted the curse from a tiny village on the northern edge of the great forest, Lennal raged and screamed her sorrows in the snowy woods all alone, her divine gift carving gashes into trees, small avalanches hurtling from their branches, because she could not save the only person to die from the affliction. He did not say that he was the one to find her sitting in the snow, her glowing eyes nearly as blinding as the sun shining from the white blanket beneath her, and the one to hold her until she felt whole enough to return to the inn where they had set up shop those few weeks they’d spent hunting for a cure. He did not say that Gennon had looked him in the eye and asked if he was worthy of his mantle, if his family would ever forgive him for leaving them, if the cause they thought they were fighting for was reason enough to risk their lives, especially to save so many people who may not deserve forgiveness. He did not say that Gennon rarely voiced these fears, or that Alain could tell by the set of his shoulders and the way he wouldn’t look them in the eye that he was terrified of moving forward. He could see just as easily that Gennon was the bravest of them all. He did not exaggerate his strength in his songs.

The people of Denmore would not know the true story of their adventure. But they would know a good one, one they could sing to their children after he himself was long gone. It was the least he could do, these days.

To be frank, Alain had never expected to live long enough to have a home again. He'd had a bet going with Gennon: first to bite the dust owed the other twenty gold pieces. Technically, Gennon was the first to die, but Lennal had swiftly snatched his soul back from the Hells. He said it didn't count because he didn’t stay dead. Kelfir backed him up with a sly grin and Lennal had thrown her hands in the air and walked off in a huff. No one ever thanked the healer. And when they did, after all was said and done, she realized she’d never wanted it in the first place. A beating heart is thanks enough, she had told him one night, leaning sideways out of her chair, two bottles of vintage rolling empty on the table before them. Alain regretted not speaking with her more during their shared watches all those years ago. He may never get another chance to see what was under that tree bark shield she put up around herself.

He admired her for returning to her people, though. That was the one thing he couldn’t do. Gennon had a family. They’d moved from their farm to the capital city to live in wealth and prosperity for the first time in their lives. Kelfir had a family of her own, too. The orphans she looked after saw her as their mother, just as Kelfir had seen her own caretakers when she was a lonely child searching for a place to call home. Now she could give them what she never had. She was happy.

Alain had had a family, once upon a time. But he had left, and they had gone, so he’d taken up the lute and tuned his voice and found a new home on the dusty roads stretching across the countryside. Each new inn and tavern was his playground, his workplace, and his haven, for however brief a time. One night, maybe two if he were making good coin, and then he’d be off again, browning his freshly shined boots in the dirt. It was in one of those inns that he’d met the other three, back when they only had a handful of scars between them and eyes that shone with hope for glory. The rest, as his fellow bards say, is history.

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[pftones3482]

Found Family

Commission number one for @kriss-the-writing-nerd. Keith angst ahead, wee!! Set in season...jesus, was his kamikaze mission in season 4? Yikes, time has flown. 

Note: Shiro may seem ooc here, and it’s cause I’m writing him as if he isn’t Shiro. Aka, as if he is Kuron. 

Under a cut for length. I really, really enjoyed writing this.

Pidge found Matt pacing Green's hangar when they returned, his rebel uniform rolled up at the sleeves and his fingers gripping his hair. Their heart climbed into their throat and, shoving aside their weariness, they chucked their helmet aside and sprinted to him. "What happened?" Pidge demanded, grabbing him by the forearm. "Matt," they emphasized when he didn't answer instantly. "What. Happened? Who got hurt? Did Mom and Dad contact-?"

"No," he managed. He turned to look at them, eyes blurred with tears, and then he pulled them into a tight hug, firm. Pidge squeezed back, fingers rubbing his back as he practically dragged them off the floor.  

"What the quiznak, Matt?" they whispered. "You're scaring me."  

"I'm sorry," he murmured into their ear. "I just...that was close. And especially after Keith..."

He choked back his words and Pidge felt a coil of anxiety lift in their stomach. Keith was like another brother to them, and Matt's tone...

"What happened?" 

Matt pulled back, rubbing his neck, and his shoulders slumped as he looked away. "He...before Lotor showed up, he was preparing to launch his fighter into the particle barrier around the base."  

When Pidge didn't say anything, Matt took a breath. "With himself in it."  

That elicited a sob from his sibling and Matt whipped his head around to look at them. They had their hands pressed to their mouth, shoulders trembling, and Matt reached out and squeezed their arms, circling his thumbs on the armor there even though he knew they couldn't feel it. "He's okay now," he promised.  

"But he's not," Pidge whimpered, and Matt had never heard them sound so broken, except perhaps on the mission that failed to retrieve their father. "He was going to do it in the first place, which means he..."

Pidge coughed, breaking from Matt and sprinting to the elevator. Matt didn't hesitate to follow.  

~~

When they arrived on the main floor, they found Keith standing in a huddle with Lance and Hunk, laughing at some joke Hunk had told, still in his blade uniform.  

"KEITH QUINZAKING KOGANE," Pidge snapped as they stormed into the room.  

Everyone looked up in surprise, and it was then that Pidge realized that literally everyone was there, from the main Blade members down to the rebel fighters. Allura and Shiro were at the console together, talking with Coran and Kolivan, and they looked surprised at their outburst.  

Keith, meanwhile, had gone pale, his eyes flickering behind them to Matt, who probably looked at least a little guilty. "Pidge," he managed, giving a weak laugh. "What-?"

"Don't you 'what' me, you asshole," Pidge snarled, stomping up to him. Hunk and Lance backed away, eyes wide and hands up as if to escape their gremlin wrath. They studied Keith for a long moment, eyes eventually going watery, and Keith let his stance relax, his eyes softening.  

"Pidge, I-"

Pidge shut him up with a firm hug, tucking their head into his chest and clenching at his back tightly, struggling not to sob. "Don't do that," they whispered. "Please."

Keith wrapped his arms around Pidge's shoulders, threading his fingers through their hair and keeping his eyes off the other paladins. "I had to."  

Pidge broke away and slapped his arm, hard. Without his paladin armor, it actually stung. "Don't give me that bullshit!" they shouted. "You didn't have to, and you know it!"  

"Keith," Lance said cautiously, his eyes darting back and forth between the two. His hands were still raised. "What is Pidge talking about?"  

Pidge glared at him for another second, their eyes watering, and then they turned to look at Hunk and Lance. "He was going to fly into the particle barrier Lotor destroyed."  

Lance's eyebrows wrinkled as Hunk's jaw dropped. "Like...kamikaze style?"  

Keith and Pidge both flinched, making the answer clear, and Lance lowered his hands, face slack and eyes wide. "Dude," he breathed, looking at Keith in disbelief.  

Keith pursed his lips and glanced sideways at Shiro, Allura, and Coran. Allura and Coran looked horrified, but Shiro was practically stone cold, like he hadn't heard what Pidge had said. "Look," he managed, clenching his fists. "I had to! I didn't know Lotor was going to show up, I couldn't have! It was a last second ditch effort to save you guys, to save Voltron. You know, defender of the universe and all that? The literal savior of the free universe? Voltron is needed way more than one Blade member, and you all know it."  

"We also know that you're that Blade member," Hunk said softly, his eyes watery. "And that you were also a paladin. And that you are needed just as much as we are, especially by us."  

Keith swallowed the lump in his throat, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. "You can do this without me, though," he tried again. "I'm not needed to form Voltron."  

"Not now, perhaps," Allura broke in. Her eyes glinted in the light. "But if anything were to happen to any of us, you may be needed again."

"And how is that any different than the situation that just happened?" Keith demanded.  

"Because we didn't try to kill ourselves!" Lance snapped.  

Keith whirled, eyes wide at the emotion lacing his voice, only to find Lance in his face, tears curling down his cheeks and a finger jutting into Keith's chest. "You do not get to claim that you aren't important to us and then deny us when we say otherwise, you quiznaking douchebag!"  

He swallowed, a little afraid of the intensity in Lance's eyes, and then found himself wrapped in another hug, this time by the red paladin. He shuddered, letting his hands fall onto Lance's back and trying to fight the sob rising in his throat.  

A warm mass enveloped them from behind Keith and he leaned back into Hunk's chest, shutting his eyes. He was shivering.  

Pidge latched back onto his waist and he let a hand drop from Lance's back to thread in their hair again.

A cool hand cupped his cheek and he pried his eyes open to find Allura standing there, eyes soft and a tear track on her skin. "You are important, to more than just Voltron, Keith," she said, voice low. "You always have been. I know we've had our differences-"

Keith moved his other arm away from Lance and dragged her into the group hug, settling his chin on top of her head. Moments later, Coran joined them, and Keith was thrown back to the moment that he left Voltron for the Blade.  

Except...

He looked around. Shiro was nowhere in the vicinity anymore, and Kolivan and the rest of the rebels, including Matt, had turned aside to give them privacy. His stomach sank at seeing his brother, his friend, the person who had stood by him for ages, gone. Like he was ashamed of him, no longer willing to call him a friend.  

The tears stung and finally fell, and Keith gripped tighter to his family.  

~~

His old room was exactly as he'd left it, dark and cold, his jacket still dangling on the hook where he'd last put it.  

Keith changed slowly, peeling off his uniform and draping it over the closet door before sliding into a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. He picked the jacket up in his hands and sank onto the bed with it, fondling the soft fabric between his fingers and tracing over the hems.  

He had almost died today. Of his own volition.  

Keith wasn't stupid. He knew someone was going to find out; Matt had been the only one to know what he was doing, but it was enough. Hell, Keith himself might have accidentally let it slip in one of his less coherent moments.

But he hadn't expected Pidge to literally fling themself at him. Certainly hadn't expected the second hug to come from Lance, the familial love toned deep in Allura's voice.  

Most of all, though, he hadn't expected Shiro to just up and leave. That was what perhaps hurt the most in this whole situation: that Shiro had seen his state of being, had seen the way he needed to be held, and had left.  

As if his brain had conjured it, a knock sounded on his door, hesitant and heavy, metal. That was how Keith knew something was up. Shiro never knocked with his prosthetic if he could help it. He hated the thing with a burning passion. Pidge had been trying to alter it before Keith left, to make it less Galra-like, but Keith wasn't sure if they had continued once the war efforts picked up.  

"Keith? Can I come in?"  

Keith sighed and lowered his arms to rest on his knees, jacket dangling to the floor. "Yeah," he said quietly, almost hoping that Shiro didn't hear him and would leave.  

No luck, as the door swooshed open and Shiro stepped in, eyes downcast and hand rubbing his jaw. He had changed back into regular clothing and looked exhausted. They all were, but Shiro especially looked dead on his feet.  

The door closed behind him and for a moment they both just occupied the same space in silence, Keith staring at Shiro and Shiro staring at the floor. Keith took the moment to formulate what he wanted to say in his head, about how hurt he felt, how much he wanted Shiro to be there for him, how it would have meant something if he had spoken up earlier.  

All that came out was, "Why?"

Shiro looked up, guilt flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment.  

He dropped his hand and shoved both into his pockets, scuffing a toe on the ground. "I didn't know how to react, Keith," he whispered. "A person I consider my little brother tells me that...that what? That he almost killed himself, because he thinks we don't need him? Is that what you think letting you go to the Blade meant?"  

Keith stiffened and looked off to the side, letting his hair fall in his face to shield him from the intense stare Shiro was giving him.  

"That is what you thought, isn't it?" Shiro said, his voice surprised. "You thought that because we told you to go, to follow the path you laid out for yourself, that we were saying we didn't want you? Keith, that's...that's ridiculous."

"You guys didn't really try to stop me," he reminded Shiro with a huff.  

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Shiro's foot slammed into the floor. "Dammit, Keith! You're here and not helping with Voltron and the recruiting, and then we tell you it's okay to leave and you think that we're the ones pushing you away?"  

Keith turned to look at Shiro, his jaw hanging a little at the anger in his voice. The man was standing, fists clenched and eyes flashing. "That's bullshit, Keith, and you know it as well as we do."  

"Shiro, I-"

"Just..." Shiro took a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes and letting his shoulders slump. "There's people here that care about you, Keith. If you're not happy with the Blade, come back here. I can't guarantee a spot in Voltron, but you're intelligent and know how to fight. We can use you. But if you stay with the Blade..."

He shook his head and dropped his arms, turning back to the door. "If you stay with the Blade, then you need to take care of yourself. Whatever that means for you. We can't lose a valuable team member, someone that people care about. Not again. There have been too many lost to this cause. We don't need to lose you too."

"I understand," Keith said, voice tight as he watched the door open again.  

Shiro tossed a weak smile over his shoulder. It looked forced. "Get some sleep, okay? We have a long war ahead of us."

The door slung shut, leaving Keith to laugh bitterly in an empty room. "When don't we?"  

~~

Three am found Keith in the training room, beating the absolute shit out of a punching bag and sweating harder than he had since leaving the desert heat. His gloves were tight on his fingers, a firm grip that didn't falter as he slammed punch after punch into the sack in front of him, every previous frustration building up and releasing.  

"Keith?"  

He swung one last time, hard enough to send the bag spinning, and then turned to Coran, chest heaving. The man was watching him in concern, and Keith realized with a start that he wasn't wearing a uniform. Rather, he was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt, a pair of what resembled house slippers on his feet. "Did I wake you up?" he found himself asking, realizing as soon as he said it how stupid a question it was.  

Coran smiled and humored him. "Not at all. I make rounds every four hours while everyone sleeps. Usually I leave anyone training be – don't want them to lose their focus – but you were just exercising and you seemed...rather agitated. Is everything all right?"

Keith sighed and pulled his gloves off, tossing them on the floor and sinking down the wall, rubbing the tension from his knuckles. "Is that even a question?" he joked weakly.  

Coran sat next to him, close enough that their shoulders were brushing but nothing else, and rested his forearms on his knees in an almost meditative pose. "I phrased it as one, yes."  

That got a chuckle out of Keith and he shook his head. "Coran...are you upset with me? For doing what I did today? Er, yesterday, I guess?"

Coran tilted his head, lifting a hand to tug at his mustache. "How could I be?" he asked, his voice gentle and filled with genuine curiosity. "You were doing what you thought best in the moment, even if the decision was based in emotion rather than logic."  

"I was being-"

He caught Coran's look and slumped, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I didn't want them to die," he croaked, cursing internally as his throat started to ache once more. "I didn't know what else to do, I just...I didn't want them to die. I..."

"You care for them," Coran said softly.  

"I love them."  

Keith let that settle for a moment before dragging a fist to his mouth and letting out a sob. "I love them so much," he whimpered, not protesting as he felt Coran scoot closer. "I couldn't lose any more of my family, I had to-"

A hiccup cut him off and he let Coran wrap an arm around him, going so far as to thump his head down on the man's shoulder. "I understand. I was in the same position, only I was much more helpless."

Keith nodded, swiping angrily at his tears. Coran continued, his voice low and his hand stroking Keith's bicep and shoulder. "I had to watch as the princess I consider a daughter nearly died, as four other aliens I have come to consider my children nearly died."

He paused, and Keith could practically feel his mustache twitch. "And then I had to find out that the only son I would have had left if they had died almost killed himself."

Keith's breath hitched and he pressed further into Coran's grasp, reaching out a hand and wrapping it around Coran's fingers. They were cold, trembling a bit, and Keith squeezed them firmly.  

"You didn't want to lose your family, son," Coran murmured. "I understand that, believe me I do. But have you stopped to consider that you are also someone's family to lose?"  

"I have today," Keith admitted, voice breaking. "Thanks, Coran."  

Coran hummed and squeezed Keith's hand back, his fingers still rubbing circles into Keith's skin. "Of course, son. Would you like me to walk you back to your room?"

"Can we just...can we just sit here for a bit?"

"Absolutely."