#like how in house of night they solved every fucking problem with a ritual circle

[camelspit]

succumbing to the demons and dnfing a book for the first time in years 😔

[deathbyvalentine]

DuD Prompts. 

Dark Places - Pre E6

Mirrors in daylight were fine. When all he saw was a handsome man in a flight jacket. A little tired, a little unshaven, but bright. At night, the mirrors changed. Sometimes his eyes seemed to glimmer black, like beetle wings. Sometimes his smile seemed not to be his own. He tilted his head this way and that, watching the shadows transform his face. Sometimes he liked how he looked. Sometimes he flinched back from his reflection, scared of the desire and countenance he saw there.

Recently his mind had been quiet. It had been boxed away, contained. It prowled like a caged animal, but he had gotten a grip of his demons. He had carved himself into the best he could be. He was stronger now. His teenage self may have lost the battle, but he had won the war. He was confident of that.

For now. For how long?

Pain - Pre-E6

It was easy to keep his face impassive. Perhaps too easy. What he was watching was wrong, he knew that. In the past he would not have known it, and would have slept easy at night. Now he did, and he wasn’t sure if it would disturb his sleep. Did that mean he was fucked up? Another body tumbled into the already populated trench, and he didn’t flinch. He couldn’t make himself feel anything for them. Shit happened.

Lance did toy idly with the thought of intervening, but it wasn’t worth getting into a pissing match with the non-bullshit part of the Inquisition on his first deployment. He wondered if Nic would have. He honestly couldn’t tell.

He felt a bit more sorrow at the destruction of the mansion. One day this could have been his. He felt like he was watching the tumbling downfall of his house from a great distance. He was sufficiently distanced from it all that he didn’t feel sorry. But another life flickered through his mind - the one of Lance Durovera, scion and inheritor. Offing or manipulating the others until he was the only one standing in this sorry mess. Rich and powerful, able to do whatever the fuck he wanted. It wouldn’t be good for him, but man it would be fun.

He didn’t regret joining the Navy. But his planning brain, typically, could not stop looking at the messes of broken threads and links, wondering if there was a way to have the best of both worlds.

Reflection

Lance took a moment when he stepped inside his cabin. Everything was still and quiet and had a ruthless gentleness that did not mourn. He had to make himself presentable for the debrief that was coming. For some reason it felt essential to his sanity and well being that he saw Mordecai in clean clothes, his face washed.

Agonisingly slowly, he shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the hook near the door. Then he rolled his shoulders and braced himself for removing his shirt. It could not be salvaged. The blood, ectoplasm and las burns utterly decimating it. With a snort of disgust he tossed it in the incinerator chute.  Then, summoning his courage he looked in the mirror.

Three jagged lines slashed across his neck, chest and stomach. Right in the center of him a sanctic circle had been carved, the red lines furious and not quite properly closed. It felt inflamed and he had to resist the urge to rub it to relieve the itch. Blood trickled from the back of his head down his neck, and the side of his face was a rainbow of bruising. His nerves crackled with irritation from a weekend of zero MIU contact.  On the plus side, he mused, his feet didn’t hurt.

He ran a wash cloth over his face, meticulously cleaning every single cut and scrape. Despite his injuries, his vanity persisted. He refused to look bad. His split lip may even be adding to his attractiveness he mused. He sensibly wrapped the wounds on his abdomen before pulling on his blessedly clean and worn flight suit. He felt himself relax from a tension he didn’t even know he was holding in his shoulders. Proper boots on. Gloves. No bullshit capes or adornments.

He glanced in the mirror again before he left. He was surprised by how he still looked like him. His eyes were still wide and green. His skin was still clear and freckled. He still looked young. The grief had not changed him. His nature was not worn on his face. He looked human. He looked kind. He was neither of those things.

His reflection unsettled him. He avoided his own eyes and began the journey to the scriptorium.

Lines of Communication

The room was dark and dim, most of the light coming from the ritual lasers. He sat on the edge of his seat, his stitches tugging, his mind swimming. His eyes followed Astrid, her fingers pressing the earpiece close, hand cradling the vox set. He sat perfectly still, listening, watching her face, trying to guess how many of his people were dying down there. 

It was different like this. Without the machine alongside him, humming her comfort and assurance. He felt utterly alone. He closed his eyes and barked orders as Astrid relayed information, her efficient and serious. He found answers came to his tongue easily, his mind working as quickly as it did looking at his control panel readings.

The engine room line went dead. Without thinking, he did a head count in the ritual room. He was the only person that could absolutely be spared. Astrid had the only spare radio. The others were all working on the ritual. He would have to go and he would have to go alone. He would be going into almost certain death. He picked up his weapons and holstered them, told Astrid to keep manning the radio. And he left. 

He got halfway to the engine deck when he ran into the Tower Team and sent them streaming them down into the depths of the ship. He took a deep breath after the last member disappeared, allowing himself a single moment leaning against the wall. He hoped they would get there quickly enough.

He wouldn’t find out that they had for another half hour.

Into the Lions Den

Head up. Shoulders back. Relax. You are not afraid of these people. You don’t care about Nic and Jensch. You are nothing but a Squadron Leader trying to stop a ship crash and pointless causalities. And you can do this.

He hadn’t really expected it to work. He knew he could talk his way out of any situation but negotiating with terrorists was something of a different ballgame. But he had started talking, offered them cigarettes and amasec and listened to their stupid ramblings of their half-baked revolution. 

Now here he was, walking into their lair as though he was just walking into a lounge. He talked to their leader, playing every inch the baffled young man, smile on his face as he thought about how it would feel to kill every last one of them.

The one that killed his father was here. He imagined how they would look with their brains splattered against the back wall. His fingers twitched towards the knife that lived in his wristwatch, but he resisted. He had confidence in himself. His plan would work and every single one of them would die.

It was easy to smile with that thought in his head.

Step Up 

Calm. Firm. Authorative. People wanted to follow someone. If you sounded like you knew what you were talking about, they would do as you said. Way too simple but it was basically how he had got as far as he had.

So, allies in enemy territory. Behind two blockades. Enemy lacks numbers and resources, but does currently have territorial advantage. How do you solve this problem with zero friendly casualities? 

It was alarmingly simple once he thought of it. A strike team, armed with demobilising weapons as well as lethal ones, with the majority of their numbers distracting the initial front line where the brute force was. Speed and strength and the element of surprise. Bonus objective was wiping out anyone that may have reason to have believed his absurdity about being in the Inquistion. 

He knew what to do. He could do it. He didn’t doubt himself, didn’t consider the possibility of failure. If he failed, he would deal with that later. For now, this was the plan and they were going to carry it out.

It was only when he sat on the stairs, waiting for them to form up did he allow the spectre of fear to creep up on him. He had lost his father. He had lost Gant. He was not quite sure what he would do if he lost Nic.

Conviently, at this point, Nic walked through the door. Well. That simplified matters at least emotionally.

He was not surprised when it worked. He was not surprised at the buzz of adrenaline and sheer pleasure at a plan well executed and power wielded with great competence. He himself didn’t need to fire a single shot.

That he did regret.

Rejection

His face burned pink with a sudden rush of blood as Nic turned back to his lunch merrily. His fingers twitched, his mouth tasted like copper. He wanted to make a scene. He wanted to blow Nic’s cover, he wanted to quit, he wanted to take Isabelle’s offer up to work with her, he wanted to put him in his place. He wanted to lash out without thinking and feel the instant gratification of destroying something.

Instead he stood up, fetched his bag, and went outside for a smoke.

Inhaling the toxins and feeling the heat went a little of the way for the hurt he needed. He waited for the emotions to fade, to turn into something more manageable, more human, but as he knew they wouldn’t, they didn’t. They stayed in his chest almost as a physical sensation, hot and ugly, twisting around, whispering all the things he could have said and done. 

He closed his eyes. A dose of opia would dim these feelings he knew full well. That’s why he began experimenting with that particular narcotic in the first place. Sometimes he wondered if he was just meant to experience the world through a soft haze - without it everything was altogether too raw. He didn’t have a raw nerve - he simply was one. The familar feeling from his ‘before’ arrived. The wrongness. The sense of being broken.

He wanted Nic to come and find him. So he could apologise or so he could pour more salt in the wound, anything but indifference, silence. Raging against calm was something he had always despised. One of the many reasons he couldn’t bare to stay at home as a young adult. His father never shouted. Even when he wished he would. 

Well, he wouldn’t break the silence first. He had done nothing wrong. He was taking the piss, sure, but only within the realms of his identity cover story. His resentment simmered and simmered and simmered, not decreasing in potency but starting to crystalise.

At least, it did until the first gunshot sounded.

Introduction

They sat beside each other on the bench. The cold hab-deck air had brought him out in goosebumps but he had no desire to go inside. Not where other people were. Not where he would have to act. Talk as though he wasn’t choking on his words. Look like his world hadn’t shattered into nothing.

The Warmaster didn’t break the silence and Lance appreciated that. 

There was a simulation of stars painting the far away ceiling and Lance looked up to admire them. He knew them better than he knew himself he realised. 

Soon, (maybe, if they hadn’t found something more important to do) the others would be back and he’d have to use his words. He’d have to explain and rationalise and they’d try to make it okay too.

For a moment, he was going to not be okay. And the Warmaster stayed beside him. And he appreciated that too.

[jindesignupdates-blog]

Survey on lost

So to post the result of the survey - so thankfully I received 40 responses!! 

HURRAY :) and the responses are interesting to read, and the feeling it gives me fits perfectly the purpose of the project. 

- Knowing others are lost too, and it is okay to be lost and it is a normal thing. So let go a little for now. - 

lost in spaaaaceeee

Below is a summary of the answers and I picked a few interesting ones and edited so that it can go into the ‘LOST BUT NOT LEAST’ coping cards.

What phrases comes up in mind related to lost? (Lost connection, Lost in translation.. etc) 

>  the answers for this can be inspirations for the gifs. 

Lost cause, Lost goal, losing my mind, lost opportunities, lost in thoughts, lost in the world, Lost memory, Lost in space, he is a lost case, get lost, lost yourself, Lost fight, lost and found, lost the battle, Lost in the ocean, Lost in life, Lost in the city, Lost bet, Lost direction, Lost youth, Lost faith, Lost in translation, Lost in time, Lost in the crowd, Lost soul, Lost in your light, Lost hope, Lost track of time, Lost interest, Lost virginity, Lost child, Lost control

What are your stories of losing something? (It can be something funny, interesting for you. You could lost something and found it in an unexpected way, or you could have found another opportunity instead. It can be losing anything - objects, motivation, opportunity..etc)

> The question in the card can change to : You know, other people also lost things. 

So i'm not sure what kind of story i have. But there were one story with my mom. She needed to take a part in conference and from the morning she were trying to find her glasses. After 5-6 hours of search she wasn't able to find it and in panic went to the clinic near our house where you can get glasses. In a hurry she came in and starts to say : I need a new glasses, now, as soon as possible, I lost mines. Everyone in the shop were looking at her for 20 seconds and my mom said: "Why you are looking at me, i need glasses". At this moment everyone started to laugh and one of the workers bringed her mirror. She was laughing and talking about it to everyone next 2 weeks..

I lost amazing watch which I got for my 10th birthday the same day I got it. My parents were so angry and punished me and I was so sad for very long time. Also I didn´t get any other watches from them ever again. They couldn´t be found anywhere. After 10 years, when I was helping my parent to move furniture I found them inside of the flowerpot where they fell from the sofa. They were still going on!

Also, I lost my new iphone 4S 8 years ago. That time it was a big deal to have one and I was saving for it for half a year... So I was pretty desperate. I needed to use my boyfriend´s PC to connect to find my iphone app. I would never use his PC if it was not for this. Instead of iphone I found out (as he left his email open) that he was cheating on me and finally after long unhappy relationship I pack my stuff that day and left him forever. Iphone was never found but I didn´t care anymore anyway.

I lost my wallet after a night out in Korea. I only realised I had done so when the taxi dropped me off outside my apartment and I didn't have any money to pay him. I asked him to take me back to where we started so that i could try and find it but he just swore at me to get out of his taxi. I had a few days of pure stress without my wallet but the wallet was posted to me by whoever had found it with everything still in it. I couldn't believe it. That NEVER would have happened in England.

One time as a child we lost my dog. We looked everywhere for him. Spent hours going up and down the street calling him, and eventually gave up to come home and cry because an escaped dog in the city probably wouldn't survive long. As a last ditch effort after all this I went to check my bedroom closet. There he was, curled up and sleeping cozily on a pile of clean laundry. He hadn't heard a thing.

Sorry, I lost track of all my losses

I lost my virginity in a nightclub in rural Spain and got kicked out of the club after being caught

I actually lost myself for a while in the past when i prioritized the wrong people and vibes in my circle. We live, we learn, then progress (:

I lost very important files for a client and lost a job and money!

Getting drunk, “losing” my wallet, cancelling my bank cards, then finding it in my freezer 3 days later. I must’ve put it in there when I had gone in to get some chicken nuggets.

I once lost the equivalent of 5euros in my cousins home in Serbia. I didnt think much of it as it was only 5euros but my cousin and his mum were so surprised by my reaction. In their eyes these 5euros was worth more than in mine. Later on they found it and gave it back :P just goes to show that not everyone values things equally.

What do you do when you feel lost? Do you have a ritual that works for you? (Take a bath, Take a deep breath, Talk to someone..)

> The question in the card can change to : When I feel lost I__________

look at old pictures to remember who I am.

take a bath, walk and nap. 

go for a walk alone with music.

talk to close friends.

write every thought on the paper.

just keep on stressing out. That’s my ritual.

try to think of activities that would make me feel more as a whole. Usually it’s doing sports, cooking and cleaning. 

go to the nature, that helps me a lot to understand how "small" our problems and egos are in comparison to nature, earth and universe. 

read the letter I wrote to myself few years ago with priorities and aims I want to reach in my life. 

usually feel depressed so I go to mountains for a walk to clean my mind, usually during night. 

normally go on a long walk somewhere whilst listening to sad music. 

take time alone to gather myself, take a shower, relax, maybe go for a walk - anything that helps me think without distractions.

talk to fiends or do stretching or  some other sport which helps to clear mind and then go back to thinking about the issue.

just try to focus on something different for a moment, chill, watch a tv series and drink some wine.

Sleep.

breathe and calm down and try to be rational, see what caused it and think about what to do next.

try to breathe and watch a lot of Netflix.

always call my mom and just have a nice chat, she always helps me find myself.

remind myself of how lucky I truly am by being healthy, fed, warm and free to choose my path.

hold my knees and cry in the shower if it’s a bad loss and sing in the shower if it’s a good one.

enjoy the very rare feeling of loss of control and just wander around spontaneously.

have a high speed walk. If it doesn’t help I talk to some of my closest relatives or friends.

try to tell myself things are better now.

meditate, exercise and google “how not to fee lost” hundreds of times.

get lost! I spend my time alone; free of counteractions.

take time for myself and enjoy tea or coffee in a cafe while sketching.

play certain type of music.

first try to solve it by myself but that usually doesn't work so I tend to talk to people about it to hear different opinions.

Freak out. Calm down. Drink. Repeat.

talk to friends I can trust and drink.

meet my amazing group of friends :)

am not the most religious person but usually when I lose hope completely i try my best to pray more.

listen to music, cry and seek out friendly faces.

stop, take a deep breath and look for anything familiar.

need cold air, smoke and cigarettes.

frequently have deep talks with my friends and I believe they are incredibly valuable to me.

exercise, get out the house and do something, act with purpose.

Sleep. It washes all the feelings away. Or... take a walk with my dog, have some relaxing time with him.

talk out loud out

do something fun like painting, watching a movie, creating something, reading.. etc..) 

do physical activity to get my mind off it like dancing swimming 

travel somewhere where I've never been before

cry until there's no tears left, if nothing helps I wait it out and move on until the feeling fades.

What do you do when you lose something?

> The question in the card can change to : When I lose something I __________

remember it forever. literally, and not even on purpose, I can remember every time I lost something special, most because I am still mad at myself about it.

freak out, and then try to start searching with a clean mind.

 accept the fact, because I believe it was supposed to happen.

write down and think about what i can do.

am probably sad for a bit.

panic then regroup and figure out a way to gain it back.

try to figure out where I used it the last time. If I lose a game, I'm usually a bad loser.

recall from the memory every step I did before I realize where I actually put the thing. If I don't remember, I just wait for a miracle that it will appear on the most visible place or when I am cleaning my working table.

call mum.

am angry, because I don´t want to waste time searching. First I search for it in very disorganized way, but if it doesn’t work I calm down, and think step by step where the thing can be and in which moment I saw it last time.

I go step by step back in time and try to find it. When it is a person, I feel really depressed, this puts me into a box with my memories combined with my imagination where I can spend time with that person, this can be also triggered by place or objects which reminds me of that person. When it is job, or some opportunity I just go over it and become more motivated to find a even better job/opportunity.

Get angry and stress the fuck out for a bit before just becoming dejected and sad.

think back to where I might have left it. I think of all the normal places it might be, then run through the list of places I might have put it and forgot.

try to fix it first and then just cope/accept it

Momentarily - look for it retracing my steps. Truly lost - I get angry.

go to the same place where I last had it, try to recreate the same situation. Sometimes works, sometimes doesn't.

do nothing.

am stubborn so I search until I find it :)

depending on how valuable it is to me I either get sad and look for it everywhere or i just let it go.

try to find it.

ask my girlfriend where it is or my mum for advice.

buy and replace. If not possible, mourn the loss.

internally battle out the opposing feelings of possessiveness versus learning to let go. Meaning, I fume for a couple of seconds until my mind gets captivated by a random shiny object and I forget.

blame myself :)

try to replace it

smile

mention a verse from the Quraan. In other words, I mention God first, then start looking for answers second.

have a hard time coping with it if it’s a real life person but if it’s a material thing i don’t bother that much! No need to stress.

swear profusely

usually just call myself dumb and then try to go back through the things I've done since I last saw the thing.

start looking for it like crazy

tell myself that I will try not to lost something again

usually forget about it the next day if they are things I don’t really sweat that much.

keep calm and look for it.

tear the whole house up. Then cry, take a deep breath and start the process again. It’s usually where I looked first.

pat myself down, also imagine a headless chicken running around. That’s a pretty close description of what I look like.

usually debate the ups and downs and what I can do to retrieve this thing. Maybe even debate whether the thing lost needs retrieving. Generally a long mental conversations with myself.

go back through how I lost it, let it go after a while.

panic. Haha. I try to remember what was I doing when I lost it.