#para: metzli

[thunderstroked]

Mutt Pup! || Mona & Metzli

TIMING: current. LOCATION: downtown. PARTIES: @muertarte & @thunderstroked SUMMARY: mona is downtown after the situation with monty! she finds fluffy first, metzli second. things are looking up until they aren't. CONTENT: none.

Wandering around town, the fox decided, might be more dangerous than wandering around the woods. She felt the need to avoid all eyes, and it was a little harder to do when she didn’t look like a typical fox. Lucky enough for her, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, and all that were left in the nooks and crannies of alleyways were shadows. It would be easier to maneuver around town this way, she thought. Safer, she hoped. 

Except, the sound of a bark– loud, piercing. It made her ears hurt, far more than the yelling from the children. She recoiled, backing up into a dumpster, half-way slipping beneath it. The barking was incessant, and soon enough, the dog’s scent curled around the fox’s nose. Was she going to die to some mutt? After everything she’d been through so far, she was going to die to a MUTT? Desperate, the fox darted from beneath the dumpster, distracted by the dog at her heels as she ran face first into the shins of a human– no, undead individual. The pain of the impact cascaded through her head to her shoulders and the fox veered around, finding a box to hide behind. She was so fucked, and this was the end. Either the mutt would eat her, or the undead would eat her, drain her blood, or make her wish she were dead with visions. 

The world was loud. Constantly, incessantly loud. Most days, at least as of late, Metzli wondered if being free to experience their environment fully was truly worth all the trouble. They found that the answer was always yes. In the way anger sparked introspection and learning; the blooming of a pleasant buzz in their chest when they saw their loved ones, and everything in between. Though, if Metzli were honest, they thought they could do without the ability to be startled. They jumped and grew confused when Fluffy sniffed at the air, bursting into a sprint as he barked toward an alleyway. Metzli gave chase, skidding to a halt when they reached the irritated canine. 

“¿Qué te pasa? ¡Fluffy! ¡Ven para aca!” They reprimanded, voice firm enough to cause Fluffy to sit in place just as something ran into them. Fluffy still continued to bark loudly until the vampire snapped their fingers, training returning to his mind. It gave Metzli the space to check the source of Fluffy’s distress, and their eyes grew worried and soft. With another snap, Fluffy returned to their side, giving them the opportunity to latch the leash to the collar and dock him to a nearby pole. The dog whined and paced, finally dwindling into a huff when he laid down. 

Metzli relaxed then, attention returning to the small fox that trembled and hid. It wasn’t an ideal spot for hiding, but with so little to work with, the vampire understood. They felt bad for the scared creature, and knowing how domineering they may look, Metzli crouched down and made themself as small as they could. “Esta bien.” They whispered, showing their open palm and half-limb in an attempt to look friendly. Whether or not the fox would understand though, Metzli wasn’t sure, but they still wanted to try. 

 The fox cowered against the brick facing of the opposite wall, nose twitching in response to the way they crouched down to greet her. Immediately, the fox’s gaze traveled over their features, picking up the immediate understanding that maybe they did not mean her harm. She could hear her father’s voice in the back of her head, never trust anything on two feet. But they had reprimanded the dog, had even restrained it, despite its high pitched whines. 

She could either run now and risk being caught in the jaws of the mutt, or she could put faith into the undead individual ahead of her. The sound of cars and footsteps at the other end of the alley told her she had little time to decide. A fox of her kind wasn’t found in most places, and she was sure to garner a few stares– especially because in certain circles, her photos had already been spread. It was unfortunate, but she knew she had no other choice. Putting faith into people wasn’t exactly her thing, but she tried to remain calm as she pushed out from beneath the dumpster. If the people previously had been any indication of how she could trust people, then maybe this would be the same.

The fox sniffed at the individual’s hand, looking up at them with round golden eyes. Her two tails twitched behind her in response to the sound of the mutt’s whine, and she looked him over as if to reprimand it– a little too human like, she realized. Then again, maybe this person would realize they were in semi-like company and be more inclined to help her rather than for the sake of a good samaritan helping a wild animal. God forbid they call animal control. She began to paw at the ground, scratching claws through the dirt there, attempting to spell out something– Help. The p was lopsided, but she hoped it’d be enough. She looked up at them with unblinking eyes, small heart battering in her chest rapidly. This would either go well or terribly, but at least she could light this alleyway aflame if it were the latter. 

The sight of a second tail on the fox caused pause. Never before had Metzli seen that sort of mutation, or if it was a cause of that for that matter. A town like Wicked’s Rest was like a beacon for all things strange, all kinds of supernatural beings. They wondered then if that’s what the fox was. And just when Metzli was going to silently theorize to themself, they noticed how the fox sneered at Fluffy. Almost as if they were irritated and making a face. Just like a human would. 

Metzli’s brows raised in surprise and they looked around to make sure no one else was around to cause the fox any harm. When it began spelling though, that’s when the vampire jumped and frantically removed their suit jacket in a hurry, placing it over the creature. The fox needed help, and it no longer mattered whether it was a shapeshifter or a sentient animal. They needed help, and Metzli wasn’t going to hesitate to do so. 

“Can carry you to my business. It is three blocks away. Have loft there with bed you can use. Is this okay? Can I carry you there?” It felt important to ask, especially after such an ordeal with Fluffy. Even more so because the fox had to make the big decision of trusting Metzli, a complete stranger. “I will not hurt you.” They paused, adjusting the jacket a bit to keep the tails covered. “This is my promise.”

It worked, somehow, and the fox was being draped over with the stranger’s jacket. The wriggled, surprised by the sudden movement. The urge to bite or claw died instantly at their words. She had to trust that they had good intentions, even if everything in her screamed to run. She nodded carefully in an attempt to make sure that her movements couldn’t be misconstrued– or that the undead individual might think she was simply too smart for her own good. 

The promise they gave meant something to her even if she couldn’t hold onto it like a fae could. 

There were too many people she would need to find after this was set straight. 

After she braced herself for the way the stranger scooped her up, she peeked through a small opening within their jacket, immediately taking in her surroundings. This, at least, was familiar. She was getting closer to Felix, she thought– or at least, Inge. 

There was no biting, or scratching, or even a loud warning call to prevent Metzli from picking up the fox. Much to their relief, the creature all but sank into their embrace and settled against the vampire’s chest with a relief of its own. “It will take ten minute walk for us to arrive.” They notified, watching as a muzzle barely peeked out of the jacket. 

The sight was adorable enough to make a small smile form on Metzli’s face, and it continued to grow as they grabbed hold of Fluffy’s leash. It was a slight struggle with only one arm, but after some finagling, they managed to wrap the loop around their wrist without tossing around the fox too much. Meanwhile, Fluffy spun in a circle a few times, barking once more before Metzli made a disapproving noise. “Be good.” He responded with silence, which Metzli approved of, and they began their trek toward the gallery.

“Once we are at the loft, I will leave with Fluffy to get you food. You will be comfortable in there.” A few people rounded a corner and Metzli immediately quieted down and held the fox closer to their chest. They passed by with no issue, but Metzli thought it best to no longer look like they were speaking to no one after some final reassurances. “Have many blankets and a couch and a bed.” They whispered, “You will be safe.” 

She was closer now to Felix than she had been previously. She recognized the area they were in, and as she poked her head out of the undead being’s jacket, she could also see faces of those who might mean her harm if she were to unveil herself. She’d need to bide her time, she decided. The fox sank against the individual’s chest, ears twitching in response to the way the dog yapped, but was immediately quieted down by his owner. 

The walk truly only took ten minutes, and eventually a door was being closed behind them. Slight panic rose in the fox as she popped her head out of the jacket, ears swiveling to take in noises from every direction– to make sure she was not about to be ambushed. Luckily, it seemed to be only the three of them. 

She settled down slightly as she was put down, the dog put away in a different room. The fox looked down at her muddied paws, suddenly feeling guilty for tracking anything in. She looked up at her temporary savior with a blank stare. How was she supposed to give her thanks like this? She hated the idea that she’d need to make rounds, but she’d feel guilt if she didn’t. With a too-human sigh, the fox sat down, gold eyes narrowed in on the subject, waiting for what came next. 

The idea that she might die here came to mind– that she’d been too quick in believing the words they had to say, but she had very little choices out here, and besides, weren’t most undead afraid of fire? If something did happen… 

The fox’s mind wandered as she looked around the loft that, in her opinion, looked like it’d come straight out of a magazine. 

The fox focused on its paws, and while the mess did bother Metzli, they knew it couldn’t be helped. Whoever the fox was, they had been struggling and needed a break. They didn’t need someone reprimanding them for making a mess where they were placed. “Do not worry. Can wash it when you are gone.” Metzli smiled as soothingly as they could, though it appeared too toothy and childlike as it always did. 

“I will leave you now and get food for you.” Stiffly and far too rigidly, they stood upright and headed toward the door. They stopped midway, recalling a promise of clothes. “Oh.” Heading quickly inside the closet, they grabbed some sweatpants and a t-shirt for the person to wear once they were human again. “Now I will leave.” Metzli quietly placed the clothes on the bed, and headed out, bowing their head before closing the door. 

The fox’s ears twitched as they spoke. She knew that to be true, but there was still some guilt regarding the situation. She felt helpless, and though she knew not how to get back to how she’d been before whatever had happened to her thanks to the pollen, she figured that at least one of these people had to of run into her type of situation before and know how to help. Only thing was, how many more people would she see and how many more would either be kind or try and kill her? It seemed 50/50 at this point, and the fox wasn’t willing to sway further onto the opposite end. She quite liked living. 

They spoke of food, and the fox’s stomach growled involuntarily. She could absolutely go for a burger right now, though she didn’t figure that’s what they would bring back. They left clothes, too – far too long for anything that’d actually fit her, but even so, she knew that she wouldn’t be shifting back anytime soon. She stayed put, waiting for them to return. 

Within the ten minutes they were gone, something shuffled at the other side of the door. Four paws instead of two feet. Her head swiveled around, gold eyes boring down on the doggy door she hadn’t immediately noticed. The dog from before– Fluffy, as they had called it, shot through. She knew she shouldn’t be afraid of the mutt, but god forbid she accidentally hurt it should it try and actually hurt her. The fox jumped onto a nearby shelf that was next to an open window, and unfortunately for her, the fabric that’d been laid overtop of the shelf slipped beneath her paws, sending her falling out of the window with a yelp. 

The fox hit a branch on the way down, which in turn helped to break her fall, but the crack in her shoulder sent vibrations of pain through her frame as she attempted to stand, another low whine pulling from her snout. She shook her head, staggering to her feet. The pain was bearable, though troublesome. The fox looked up towards the window knowing well enough that in this state, there’d be no climbing back up in the way she would do so if able. 

Before she could even consider going to the front door and scratching at it incessantly, the sound of something behind her– a voice, loud and booming– accusatory but afraid, caused her to run. Who was she if not a coward?

[gossipsnake]

TIMING: February 24, 2024, (the evening of this) LOCATION: Inge's House PARTIES: Anita (@gossipsnake), Metzli (@muertarte) Inge (@nightmaretist), and Cass (@magmahearts) SUMMARY: After learning about what had happened to Anita and that she had been brought to Inge's house to warm up with Cass, Metzli comes over to make sure Anita is okay. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

It wasn’t right. Anita had been hurt, and any reasonable individual would’ve been motivated by panic and stress, guided toward their loved one with such a force that everything stormed out of their path. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for Metzli, who had to usually rely on logic above all else to mimic love. They didn’t know how to feel or what to do or how to process, but they had a location and a place to be, so they drove. And somehow, they’d done so calmly, even if they were going twenty over the speed limit. 

By the time Metzli arrived, there was not much they could recall from between their walk from the car and their knock at the door. Nothing else mattered except getting to Anita. They just wished they could have made the moment sweeter with a warm drink or a filling pastry, but that was something they could do another time. Their focus diverted completely to their sister. 

“Where was she found?” They rushed inside with a curt nod at whatever invitation they were given, not paying much mind to Inge so they could lay their eyes on proof that Anita was alive. It wasn’t as if she or Inge had any reason to lie. As far as Metzli was concerned, they both had their trust, and had given no grounds for them to not take her at her word. But between someone who thought themself a sibling, and the person they saw as their family, nothing else mattered more than reaching them. 

With utmost care, Metzli opened the door and reached Anita in a blink, hovering a hand over her hair. She looked tired and worse for wear, but she was warm and breathing, resting soundly in clothing that looked much too big now. Metzli thought perhaps their mind was playing tricks on them, which would be no surprise. Panic had a way of altering a mind.

Metzli retracted their hand and backed away slowly. “I am here.” They kept their voice quiet, waiting for Anita’s approval to get closer. Their touch would do her no good, considering their lack of body heat, but they still held onto hope that they could offer some sort of physical affection she usually claimed she didn’t need. It wasn’t uncommon for Metzli to find her cuddling up with Fluffy or leaning into their touch. As much as Metzli wanted to, they never picked on her for it, and they especially wouldn’t right then. Not in front of Cass or Inge. 

It was important that Metzli find out what was going on as soon as possible. Cass could only imagine the worry they must have felt when Anita didn’t come home. Were they looking for her? Were they scouring the woods, were they searching? She couldn’t imagine they’d be doing anything else, not if they had any inkling that something was wrong. Metzli was proactive, was dedicated, was loyal. And they loved Anita, Cass had seen it. If they knew Anita was hurt, they’d be worried. So they needed to find out right away.

She figured it would be better for Anita to text them, maintained her position practically curled around the lamia as she did so. She kept up that warm-but-not-too-hot temperature, gradually warming herself a little more to make sure Anita got the heat she needed without being too hot. She tried making awkward small talk with Inge at first, but she got the feeling neither of them really wanted that, so she gave it up after a few minutes. 

And, when Metzli finally arrived and entered the room, she let the relief wash over her all at once. 

She wondered, somewhat absently, if Metzli would display the same desperation if it were her in Anita’s position. She felt guilty for wondering it — Anita was hurt, and this should be about her — but her mind went there all the same. Cass was so used to being an afterthought and, in this moment, Anita was clearly anything but. She thought back to Alex, after she was hurt, to the way she would have done anything to get her out of Rhett’s cruel grasp. Hadn’t it been intoxicating, being the center of someone’s world? Even if only for a moment, even when it was over now? Hadn’t it felt good?

“She’s getting warmer,” she spoke up almost tentatively, like she was no longer sure of her place in this room. Neither Inge nor Metzli had the body heat to warm Anita, so Cass was necessary. She liked being necessary. It meant no one could make her go. “I think it’ll be a while longer before she’s… back to full strength.”

—

They had been at Inge’s place for a little while before Anita had the strength to even send Metzli a message about what had happened. And of course since she didn’t even have her own phone with her she had to rely on using someone else’s to even send the message. It felt like this was becoming a habit, needing help from others, and it made her feel uneasy. As much as she wanted to tell everyone to leave, not because she didn’t want them there but because she felt that her debt to them was growing with each passing second. Debt she didn’t know how to repay. 

Just before Metzli arrived, Anita had finally felt warm enough to shift back. While most things in life were aided by being an incredibly large rattlesnake, trying to get warm was certainly not on that list. “I’m gonna get smaller,” she said to Cass so as not to startle the woman wielding that much heat near her skin, “It’ll make it quicker. Warmer blood and whatever.” It took more effort than she was used to but the scales that spread across her body were slowly replaced with soft pink flesh, allowing her to curl up into herself and get herself under the aluminum blanket that the tall stranger had given her. 

When she heard Metzli’s voice there was a simultaneous relief and guilt that panged through Anita. She didn’t want to worry anyone… she didn’t mean to worry anyone. There had been nights, plenty of nights, that she didn’t make it home. She usually let them know that was going to be the case though, when she remembered to. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” she offered up. Normally the lamia adored being the center of attention - she thrived on it - but this type of attention, this type of care, felt so foreign to her. She didn’t know how to handle it all. 

“I just need to get warm. I already healed the wound.” Nodding towards Cass, Anita agreed, “Will be a while, for sure.” Even if her body got warmed up Anita wondered how long the exhaustion she was feeling would last. “I’ve never… I don’t know anyone who’s ever… guess this is why my father wanted me to stay in the desert.” 

_ 

She couldn’t recall the last time she’d turned on the heating in her cold apartment, but she had it blasting now. Inge could host, at the very least — it was one of the skills she’d taken with her from her former life. She could fret a little, offer whatever comforts Anita needed while waiting for her to warm up again. In a way, it was good to be on the other side of this: to help rather than to need to be helped. 

And though her body ached from all the walking, she got up and moved towards the door all the same when the doorbell rang. Her eyes locked with Metzli, she offered the, “Come in,” required for a vampire and let them burst in. She followed, pushing through as she tried to keep up their pace. “In the Pines. I was astral hopping and I saw her and got help.” This was the second time in a long time where Inge was confronted with the fact that she was limited, that in some cases she was powerless. She had none of the superior healing her vampire brethren had, nor the strength. Not even the bodily warmth to assist Anita. And even though she’d manage to help Anita, she despised the feeling.

She followed Metzli, no longer bothering to keep up with their vampiric speed and leaned on a chair in the living room. What a strange combination of people, two of whom she’d only met rather recently and in very different settings. Inge didn’t question it. Life was spontaneous. And pain connected, that too she knew. 

A small smile for Cass. Ariadne’s friend, she assumed. The one she’d asked her not to give nightmares. “Good.” She moved around the chair, sat on its edge, close to the gathering of people in her living room. So filled with life. She found it confusing. “You can stay as long as you need to, you know that.” Not often did she open her doors like that for people, and it wasn’t like Anita and her were as tightly entwined as she perhaps was with Metzli or even Cass — but still. Inge wasn’t going to kick her friend out. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. “It’s … you’re here now, hm? Just focus on getting warmer.” 

“Ay, mi hermosa.” Metzli leaned forward and planted an affectionate kiss to Cass’s head, fully trusting that if she was in contact with Anita, then it was safe to do so. Besides, they couldn’t help themself when the person they saw like kin was making them proud. She truly was a hero, and Metzli wholeheartedly believed that’s what she was meant to be. They smiled, “Thank you for helping her.” They didn’t care if Cass would bind them, and some part of them knew she wouldn’t. Regardless, it felt important to express their gratitude, and they turned to regard Inge, who they could see through the doorway to the living room. “And thank you as well, Inge. I…” Tears brimmed their eyes, a few daring to streak down their cheeks as they returned to Anita’s side and sat.

Metzli sniffled and cleared their throat immediately, trying not to feel too embarrassed. Anita likely didn’t have the energy to tease them, but they hoped she might. Anything to further cement that she was still there, and what Metzli was seeing wasn’t just a figment. It was asinine, really. They knew that. So, carefully, they reached forward, placing a gentle hand on Anita’s head for a few moments. They smiled warmly and retracted it before they could undo any of Cass’s hard work. Anita was real. Anita was real and even if Metzli had failed in finding her, she was alive and able to recover. 

“I looked for you. Was very scared you were hurt and I am very sorry I could not find you.” The possibility (and really, the inevitability) of Anita dying became far too real, and it choked them. It formed  a ball of some sort and it lodged itself in Metzli’s throat. Their leg began to bounce as discomfort overtook them, but they took a grounding breath to keep their emotions at bay as best they could. Some emotion was okay, but they didn’t want to overwhelm Anita or overtake the attention she needed. Instead, they breathed once more, offering Anita their hand, palm facing up. 

“I will be here until you can come home then. Whatever you need, hermana. Like Inge say, focus on getting warmer. We will help.”

A warmth that had nothing to do with the magma flowing through her veins filled her chest as Metzli addressed her, and she offered them the smallest of smiles. When they’d first found Anita in the woods, trailing behind Otis and Inge like a lost dog, there had been so much desperation. She’d been so afraid, so uneasy. If anything happened to Anita, she’d thought, and Cass didn’t prevent it from doing so, she was sure Metzli wouldn’t forgive her for it. She was good so long as she was useful, and she’d been useful tonight. She’d used the destructive force of her volcanic nature for something decent, for warmth instead of ruination. 

Metzli thanked her, and Cass disregarded it with a shrug. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m happy I could help.” She looked down at Anita with a small smile. “Everybody deserves somebody to help them, right?” It was something Cass desperately wanted, needed to be true. If Anita deserved salvation, if everyone did, didn’t she get to be included in that, too? 

She flashed Inge a grateful smile as the mare said they could all stay as long as they needed to. It was funny — she hadn’t liked Inge much at the beginning of all this, but she was grateful for her now. Offering her home not just to Anita, but also to Cass, who she probably still hated, was a pretty heroic thing to do. And Cass would know; she was a superhero.

“So, um…” She shifted her weight a little, repositioning Anita slightly so that they both could be a little more comfortable. “Anybody have any Uno cards?”

—

As much as Anita adored being the center of attention in normal circumstances, these were not normal circumstances. This collection of people surrounding her, from different aspects of her life, all coming together to help her out was not a dynamic she knew how to navigate. But they didn’t seem upset or annoyed, at least not visibly, at needing to tend to the weakened lamia. That felt surprising to her, mostly. Metzli’s reaction, their support, was expected. But the other two, that felt surprising. Not because of who they are or because of anything they had done but simply because having people around to support her was such a foreign feeling at this stage in her life. 

The idea of her absence causing Metzli to go out and search for her, knowing that she caused them any amount of fear, only added to the guilt that was cursing her. How many nights had she not come home in the past without letting them know? Did it always spark such a reaction? That wasn’t a question she really wanted an answer to. “Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have … been out there like that.” She reached out and placed her hand in theirs, keeping it there despite the cold. 

She turned her attention towards Cass, who was doing the work of a dozen heat lamps all by herself. “Is this tiring for you?” For all that Anita knew, whatever Cass was, and whatever powers she had, were foreign to her. “Don’t think I’ve played Uno since… college, maybe?” She didn’t wanna make presumptions but it seemed unlikely that Inge had a deck of Uno cards lying around. But Cass was onto something. If they had something to do to pass the time, maybe Anita would feel less guilt, or at least be distracted enough to not think about it for a short while. “Wouldn’t be opposed to playing a game or something, though.”  

__ 

The scene was a strange one. Inge had people over at her house aplenty, but it was never this kind of combination. Anita in her living room made sense, had occurred before, but Metzli she only knew professionally and then there was Cass, the thief who’d melted her things. Put together the fact that someone was being offered aid and she wasn’t entirely sure if she’d encounter this kind of thing again soon. She gave Metzli a serious look, nodded. “Of course.” It wasn’t like she’d done it for Metzli, but still. She didn’t mind a little appreciation.

Inge remained leaning on the chair until Cass said something about Uno. Now the scene was really becoming something completely foreign. It wasn’t a bad thing, though. She raised up, jaws tight at the movement. “I can find us something. I’ve got a deck of cards, so we can just play crazy eights.” She could host. Though the days of serving guests pickled eggs and vruchtenbowl were over, she hadn’t quite lost that. 

She moved away from the three others, feeling strangely out of place. She cared for Anita, certainly, and enjoyed her company deeply — but she and her had never felt this proximity she seemed to share with Cass and Metzli. No matter. It was hardly like she was jealous. Inge opened one of the many cabinets in the living room, most of them filled with various items. Old games from back at home, books and collections, dried flowers and trinkets she intended to do something with, one day. A deck of cards was produced and she returned, pulling an ottoman close to the small gathering. “If anyone wants something to drink, you can help yourself. There’s wine and other things in the kitchen.” No blood, that she only got when she had planned vampire visits. “But for now, I’ve got the deck. Shall I deal?”

Metzli shook their head at Anita and shushed her. “You are strong and your confidence is big. Maybe you make mistake, but you are alive. That is what matters.” They paused for a moment, offering Anita an intimate gesture by pressing their lips to the back of her hand. For someone not normally too keen on touch, it meant a great deal. It was something that required trust and comfort that they had only just begun to understand. “You matter to me. Worry will happen and that is okay. Just shut up and accept.”

There were various options that everyone presented for entertainment, nourishment, and comfort. Uno sounded interesting enough. If there were only a single item in a game, Metzli figured it couldn’t possibly be overstimulating or incredibly complex. It sounded quiet. Perfect, even. That was probably why Cass suggested it, and they offered a small and gentle smile to her as they gave Anita’s hand one final squeeze. She didn’t need her temperature lowered again. 

“Let us play this Uno game and I can pay for pizza if someone will like to order.” They turned their head just in time to watch Inge’s hair bounce around the corner as she mentioned a much more chaotic game. Crazy eights? That is bigger than one. Not by much, but enough. And the numbers were crazy? Metzli couldn’t make sense of it, but before they knew it, Inge provided the group with a deck of cards. They stared at it as if it were as atypical as themself, their back stiffening as they shook their head and responded. “I will watch. I do not want to gamble in your deal.”

Anita asked about her, about her well-being, and it was enough to make Cass’s chest feel warm in the metaphorical sense as well as the physical. She offered the lamia a small smile, shaking her head. “It’s not tiring. This is just… being, for me.” Without the need to maintain her glamour, this was actually less tiring than her day-to-day, even if the glamour only took a very small amount of energy to keep up. Regardless, even if it had been exhausting, she would have done it. Anita was cold, and Cass could warm her. That was all there was to it. It was a simple thing.

She hummed, disappointed but not surprised that Inge didn’t have any Uno cards lying around. It had been something of a long shot, given Inge’s whole ‘fancy lady’ aesthetic. Fancy ladies probably didn’t play Uno, which was stupid. Uno was fun. But, regardless, Cass knew how to work with what was given to her. Metzli wasn’t interested in Crazy 8s, though Anita didn’t seem to mind the idea. Cass considered it for a moment.

“Maybe we can do a round or two of that, then Go Fish?” She looked to Metzli as she said it, brows drawing together in a pleading look. It was an expression perfected from years of making sure everyone felt included enough to stay. If there was nothing for a person to do, they were more likely to walk away. And Cass didn’t want Metzli to leave.

She didn’t want anyone to leave, but Metzli was the only one who really could right now. Anita was frozen in place (though not quite literally anymore), and this was Inge’s house. If she could keep Metzli here, they could stay as they were right now. And Cass liked how they were right now. It felt kind of perfect… or as perfect as anything could be, under the circumstances. “Maybe we could have hot chocolate, too?”

—

It would have been too overwhelming for Anita to take the time to fully process and internalize the amount of care that was being given to her. So she was glad to have a distraction in the way of a card game, no matter what game that ended up being. Something to do other than talk about the situation she got herself in. “Crazy 8’s isn’t all that crazy,” she offered to Metzli in Spanish when they seemed uninterested in playing. She wanted them to have a good time if they were going to be stuck here waiting for her to defrost, but also knew that watching the others play might as well be as enjoyable as playing for them. 

Anita was feeling well enough to move her arms a bit, being able to do the absolute bare minimum action for a game of cards. As the cards were delt she reached out to grab her hand, fully accepting that it would be near impossible to keep her cards fully concealed from Cass.  “Hot chocolate would be amazing. Especially if you’ve maybe got some tequila lying around to throw in there?” She asked, looking over at Inge. She should have asked Metzli to bring some from home. Even though she knew the science behind it was flawed, there was no denying that a bit of tequila was known to warm just about anyone up. “I think after a few rounds of the game I should be warm enough to head home. I don’t wanna put y’all out all night.” 

_ 

She looked between the strange range of people and folded down the cards so they could be shuffled and dealt at a later time, “Maybe you can explain the rules to Metzli? It is not so different from Uno.” Inge got up, sure to not touch Cass and her searing skin again. She remembered how she’d burned her once and thought it some kind of metaphor — how warmth could be healing yet also dangerous. 

“Anyway — hot chocolate I can do. With tequila. I’ll also order a pizza.” And she’d pay for it. She was a gracious host, after all. It was a fundamental skill for women of her once-caliber. It was one she didn’t mind not having unlearned — though plenty of the other submissive housewife traits had luckily left her. “What kind of toppings do you like?”

Her eyes flicked to Anita, then. “Don’t worry. Neither Metzli nor I need sleep. You are hardly putting me out. You’ve —” Slept over before, she almost added, before remembering herself. Inge smirked vaguely and then gave Cass another one over. She was okay. Even if she’d stolen her bag and burned her hand. “And if you doze off, that’s alright.” She moved to the kitchen to heat up some milk on the stove, feeling a distant sense of a feeling she couldn’t quite describe. Perhaps it was as simple as contentment, but maybe something more rare — a feeling of safety and unity. 

They knew what Cass was doing when she made that face. They also knew she was scared that they’d leave, even if that was far from the truth. More than once, she had used it to get her way, ensuring abandonment of any kind wasn’t any option. It was how she operated, experiencing dismissal and loneliness far too long. If given the chance to live those moments again, Metzli surely would’ve given Cass what she wanted without any sort of plea. 

They just enjoyed her face far too much to give in immediately. They enjoyed the way she knew a certain look would sway any decision they made. As if Metzli was truly her guardian. “I am staying, mihijita. And I will beat you at this crazy game.” Gently, they reached over and patted her head, ruffling her slightly and playfully with a small but genuine smile on their face. “I will also beat Anita.” They chuckled, rising to their feet to help Inge out in the kitchen. A room they were comfortable and navigated well in. Never mind the fact that they had no need to eat actual food anymore.

“If you have chocolate that I can melt with the mix, I can help you make it very tasty.”

 “Pineapple!” Cass cut in immediately, eager to make her preferred pizza topping known. Normally, she might have let someone else respond first, might have pretended to like whatever the popular answer was, but… she felt comfortable, in this moment. She felt comfortable enough to be a little more of herself, to stop pretending even if it was only for a heartbeat. Later, the mask would slip back on as easily as breathing. She’d cut herself into smaller pieces, something easier to digest. But right here, right now… Cass felt good. And that was good. Wasn’t it?

She grinned a little as Metzli agreed to stay, feeling as though some invisible weight had been lifted. The teasing, too, felt good, felt like something she’d never thought she’d have. “There’s no way you’re beating me,” she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m totally gonna win. You’ll probably beat Anita, though.” She flashed Anita a grin — a quiet confirmation that she was only kidding, with a question underneath it: is this okay, are we here yet, can we do this? 

As Metzli and Inge went into the kitchen, Cass remained with Anita. This was good, she thought. However terrifyingly the night had started out, this ending was good. She wanted more nights like this. She wanted them forever. 

—

It was not very often that Anita found herself alone, physically. She usually had some body nearby to keep her company - either a meal or a tryst. Even when she spent time with people she cared about, the people in this room, it was almost always one-on-one. Genuinely, she did not know if that was an intentional doing on her part or if it was coincidental. Laying there, wrapped up in physical and emotional warmth felt so foreign to her. It made her think back to Mexico, before she left home. But even as she let her mind wander back there, as she shuffled through her cards and listened to discussions about pineapple on pizza, Anita was faced with the reality that home had never actually felt quite this warm. 

Back then she may have been constantly surrounded by a sea of family but they were all so preoccupied with themselves that moments like this - simple evenings - were scarce. Anita smiled up at Metzli when they returned with cups of cocoa and nodded at the indication from Inge that pizza was just a few minutes away. As she took that first sip of the spiked beverage, for a moment the guilt she had been feeling slipped away. For a moment she was just in a living room, playing cards with people who cared about her.

[the-lil-exorcist]

Scooby Doo Moment; Metzli & Lil

TIMING : Last Thursday ( April 20th), At Closing time.

LOCATION:  MuertArte

PARTIES : @muertarte @the-lil-exorcist

SUMMARY: Following a lead from Jude's Book, Lil decides to break into MuertArte to find a ghost. Although Metzli isn't please, they let Lil look around and shenanigans ensue.

CONTENT WARNINGS: None!

Lil knew it was a bad idea before she tried getting into MuertArte knowing the most whispers about the place. Truly she knew that she shouldn’t try to get into the building after hours especially, as while she was known for breaking and entering places they were usually abandoned buildings and not art galleries. She knew that slipping into the back door and trying to hide in a closet was an awful idea. She shouldn’t be here, and it was reckless to try. 

However, it had been a few weeks since Jonas and her had gotten into town and she’d learned almost nothing about what might have happened to her parents and siblings. Lil had gone to all the usual spots, and asked all the usual people - well the ones that would talk to her anyway. All she had gleaned is that there were a series of jobs that they were meant to do, and while she wasn’t certain one of them seemed to be connected to the gallery. That and she had heard the rumors of possibly haunted pieces - so she figured she should look at them. Leading her to now be stuck in a closet trying to keep her breathing even and  feeling stupid. She just needed the people to leave so she could look around the back alone, she’d be out quickly enough if she didn’t feel any ghosts in there. 

__

“Rachel, make sure the back door is locked and then go home. Get check before though.” Metzli spoke to their only employee as they scribbled a few notes on their clipboard. They didn’t even look up to check if she listened, just heard her footfalls grow silent and then louder when she returned. At this point, Metzli trusted the girl to listen to them. She was young and had no experience, but she picked up on the training quickly enough that they didn’t despise hiring her. Having her around made things easier anyway. “Here’s your pay for the week.” They handed Rachel a check and waved her off, listening for the final click of the lock when she made her exit. 

Finally, the end of the day had arrived. Owning a business had its perks, gave a sense of freedom, but it came with a cost. Metzli supposed it was only fair. Honey did say everything needed to be balanced, that there was always an exchange. Being socially exhausted was just part of it. 

With a deep inhale and sigh, Metzli caught a whiff of something…different. Too strong for a space to be empty, but there was no one in sight. It was peculiar and made the hairs on Metzli’s neck rise at attention, though they gave no indication of it in case they were being watched. Instead, they went through their end of day routine and behaved as if they were leaving, and not literally sniffing around to find the source of what was piquing their sense of smell. Eventually, they landed on a door—a closet. They set to turn off the lights, opening and closing exits, even silencing their steps until they stood in front of the closet. Quietly, they planted themself to wait for whatever idiot was hiding to make their reveal. 

 Lil tried to be quiet in the closet as she started listening to the closing of the art gallery, trying to remind herself to be calm. She felt oddly light, her usual knife not on her - if she got caught she didn’t want to be armed for the police after all - and instead just had her salt bags and keys on her. She didn’t even bother keeping her phone on her meaning she didn’t know the exact time as she heard the door close. She just needed twenty minutes. Then she’d leave and go home and check the next place in Jude’s notebook.

Pausing for a moment to make sure that it was still, Lil slowly opened the door looking around as the door widened trying to see if she saw anything glowing. As her eyes moved around the room however - Lil froze thinking she saw the vague outline of someone in the dark. Whoever they were- they were not glowing with the soft outline Lil associated with a ghost - and were very much staring at her. Her first instinct was to quickly shut the door, but she was pretty sure there wouldn’t be time to do that. 

“Uh - Hi?” Lil said, cursing herself as she moved to raise her hands slowly, palms out, “I - don’t have any weapons or anything I just wanted to check if this place was haunted, honest. I’m an exorcist - and I think my sibling might be trapped here. I’m sorry for not coming in at a normal hour but I didn’t want to get thrown out for scaring guests.  I get if you’ve got to call the cops, but I wasn’t trying to steal anything.” Lil could hear herself rambling as she tried to remain calm, her heart pounding in fear, hoping that being honest would at least get her only a misdemeanor. 

And there she was, the culprit. She looked scared and timid, and then she spoke. Too much. Metzli stood there, blankly listening and hoping for the end of the explanation to come quickly. It felt eternal, too rambly for them to actually fully listen, and then finally, the woman finished. Metzli rubbed at their temple and grumbled, waving their hand from side to side to let her know she shouldn’t talk again. “No more ramble. I hate ramble.” They couldn’t be held responsible for any bites she would get if she did. 

“And I no like cops. I deal with trouble myself.” Metzli raised a finger, realizing how that may sound. “Lucky you that I believe in haunting, but have seen no ghost.” They tutted, “But I do have weapon and if you lie, I will put up fight. You will not win.” It was as light of a warning as Metzli could give in that situation, but for a break-in, they thought they were handling it pretty well.. Though, they hoped for the girl’s sake, that she was telling the truth. Not that they wanted to hear more about it.

“Where do we check? I will follow and watch.”

Lil’s hands were shaking slightly as she finally learned how to shut up, and waited for the other to speak. Then she almost froze again - not expecting what she heard. Blinking Lil nodded instead of talking again slowly putting her hands down figuring that she’d shown that she wasn’t exactly a threat at least. She didn’t open her mouth again, really not wanting to annoy the person who so far wasn’t trying to call the police. 

She should have been worried that the other started talking about not needing cops, but Lil couldn’t help the relaxation when they seemed to believe in hauntings. It was more likely in this town than anywhere, but Lil could never count on that. She also didn’t have that stupid card proving that she was an exorcist.  Lil also didn’t take the implication lightly, knowing that the other probably could hurt her if they wanted too. Although Lil was well known for her recklessness, she wasn’t an idiot. She was also in the wrong here. 

“ I won’t try anything and I’m not lying,” Lil said softly, finally walking out of the closet still not going next to the dark figure, not wanting to move too quickly and make the other defensive. Still her eyes started to focus around the room trying to see if there was anything glowing lightly, the dark making it easier for her to do. She often thought because she couldn’t hear the dead, she must have a slightly better sight for them. 

“If I could just look through the gallery, I can tell if there’s any ghost or ghost - items.” Lil tried hard not to babble again, but she still added. “I won’t exorcize any items though even to prove I am an exorcist. I don’t want to break anything and would have to do more research to not.” 

It was nice to know the woman wasn’t lying. Well, she insisted she wasn’t at least. Metzli liked to think that they were pretty good at spotting liars, and she didn’t seem like one. “Tell me name.” Overall, she seemed genuine. More so desperate, but that was neither here nor there. The real focus was getting to the bottom of whatever haunting she believed was happening in Metzli’s gallery. The last thing they needed was for a rumor to get out about something like that. 

Even worse, the concept of the actual haunted gallery being gossiped about couldn’t happen. If it did, more people like the exorcist would come around. Likely with more malevolent intentions that would worsen if they discovered the rumors were, in fact, true. Sighing and pinching the bridge of their nose, Metzli tapped their foot as they configured themself. Where to start? “I can see ghost too but am no exorcist. Seen no ghost.” They curled their hand into a fist and released it, repeating the action until they relaxed a bit more. She didn’t have to know about the cursed gallery. Everything was protected there. 

“You search and I follow.” Metzli said, adjusting their tie. “If you find anything, you may examine but no take. Pieces are expensive.”

“Lil, My name is Lil Ballard,” She said immediately, figuring that she probably shouldn’t hold that information back. Besides, if the other knew anything about medium families in the town that would be a clue that she wasn’t lying. She didn’t often thank herself for her last name - her father had ruined it in a lot of ways - but sometimes her connection to him did make it at least a little more convenient. 

Lil couldn’t see the other super well, but she could feel that the energy seemed to shift a little more than  “My siblings book said something about an object here that they were wanting to check to see if it was a Tsukuogami - a possessed object. You wouldn’t have seen a ghost.” Lil quickly explained thinking that the other might not know them. While it wasn’t highly on the list of things that could have made her family disappear - they were rarely super dangerous - it would tell Lil where on the list Jude was. Also, some were deadly when they wanted to be and shouldn’t be in a gallery unattended. She figured Jude would have put it on the list if they were worried about it being more deadly than anything else.  

Lil did pause that the other could see ghosts, but in a town like this one she never really questioned it. After all, it wasn’t her business if they could or not. Lil relaxed, nodding at the instructions and moving more now to see the gallery that she was in. Keeping her hands at her side but pulling out her flashlight that was purposely dull- after all she wanted to see the outlines of things -  Lil moved toward the edges to look at the pieces, thinking that she might have liked to see it during the day. She’d never really been around art - unless it was to examine it for spiritual activity - and some of the pieces were interesting. Still, she tried not to linger. 

Still, as she was about to pass a painting she oddly didn’t want to stop at she paused slightly, taking a look at a painting again before moving swiftly to the side of it before she thought the image could see her , making sure that the painting didn’t have her in view and hoping it hadn’t seen her. “Do you mind telling me what you know about this piece?” Lil said softly hoping the other wasn’t too annoyed.

Metzli nodded, committing the name to memory. “Hm…” They listened intently, even as  they tapped away at their phone to bring a few lights to life. Mainly a few rooms to illuminate, but still keep it mostly dim. Their face, along with Lil’s illuminated just enough, revealing them both. Though, really, Metzli was able to see Lil clearly in the dark. “Tsukuogami,” They parrotted several moments later, replaying it in their head over and over again. It wasn’t a term they had heard before, but they hoped they could get some answers as the two of them searched.

If anything, Lil was more than willing to offer information given that she did not have the advantage. That was how Metzli interpreted it at least. “Will you feel something if you are near the Tsukuogami?” Following close behind, they watched as the weak flashlight brought a faint glow to the pieces it grazed over. Metzli was a bit distracted by them, almost crashing into Lil when she came to a stop. 

They looked at the painting, tilting their head and closing their eyes to recall. “Paula Mint. Acrylic on canvas, twenty-twenty, titled Weighted Lillies, and was brought in a week ago. Inspected myself and found nothing. Why? Tsukuogami?”

Lil hadn’t expected the help, but was grateful for the other to light the room well enough for her to see, but not enough to hinder her seeing the outlines of hidden ghosts. She blinked, seeing the other for the first time, figuring that she shouldn’t ask them for their name. After all, she wasn’t exactly in the position to ask anything. 

Lil nodded slightly, “They can generally hide better than regular ghosts - but they aren’t awful to find. They are different from regular ghosts - they can use whatever object they possess. Fireplace can produce that sort of thing. ” Mostly, they seemed to be annoyed by Lil’s presence - at least she always thought. They were also not easily exorcized, so really she was more annoyed by them. 

Which was why she wasn’t trying to get into the painting’s line of sight. Especially if it was one that had something - disturbing in it. When the stranger said what was in it Lil sighed a little, thinking that Lilies were not the worst thing to be on a painting like that. “I saw eyes I shouldn’t have if it’s a picture of Lilies, be careful. I’m going to get into its line of sight and if it is one when I look at it for more than a minute it’s going to want to attack me. If it does I’ll just get out of its line of sight and we can take it off the wall.” She didn’t really have a plan after that, knowing that she couldn’t exorcize it without destroying the piece. Still, she could tell the other that after. Maybe they had a way of containing it. 

The more information given about the spirits Lil was searching for, the more the hackles on Metzli’s neck raised. How badly would it affect MuertArte if they didn’t find it that night? They didn’t want to think about it too hard. They knew they had to focus and keep their mind from straying too far if they wanted to find the damn Tsukuogami. Once they did, Metzli planned to find some way to stab it. They didn’t care if it was incorporeal sometimes. They’d get it when it tried any tricks when it took on a different form.

“What do we do if—” There was no chance to finish the sentence. A vine surged forward from the painting, prompting Metzli to react instinctively. They weren’t fast enough to stop the vine from wrapping firmly around a victim, but they did succeed in ensuring Lil wasn’t it. It was a small victory, but having a vine wrapped around their neck was better than having it be a human. They didn’t need to breathe.

“Stay…away.” Metzli managed to wheeze out to Lil, mostly because their windpipe was being crushed. Each word was strained and prolonged. All the while, they fussed with their knife, struggling to get the blade through the vine for a few moments while their neck took on all the pressure without another arm to balance it all out. Finally, they cut through, falling to the ground unceremoniously. 

Lil had expected the painting to react, but she didn’t think that it could see her where she was trying to explain to the other that she would knock it down. Still, she must have moved enough into frame that the Tsukuogami did see her and reacted. It must have not liked her, to want her dead this quickly. 

She hadn’t expected the other to move in front of her as the vine shot out of the painting. Used in some ways of being put into dangerous situations where no one was there to realistically help.  Lil’s eyes widened as she realized what happened, her hand instinctively going for a knife she hadn’t packed and cursing realizing it wasn’t there. A split second realization that she would have been fucked if it had been her didn’t escape her but while the shock happened to cross on Lil’s face she didn’t stop her motion, used in some ways to the often shocking events around ghosts. So, instead of freezing Lil, ducked out of the sight of the painting she figured the only way to help the other was to get the stupid thing on the ground as quickly. 

She saw as the other told her to stay away, cutting the vine and painfully dropping out of sight of the painting, and Lil, hoping that they wouldn’t be too pissed, reached for the side of the painting moving to tip it off the wall face first on the floor. “Fuck. Are you okay? Wait, don't answer that your neck.” 

With a bang she managed to get the painting on the floor after struggling, although she thought she could see it trying to push back up with its vines. Moving to stand on it she figured that if she broke the slate at the back of the painting she might get it to stop moving. “Uh - Sorry I know your neck. Hey if you're still awake can I break the painting?” Lil said, figuring she should at least ask but still feeling silly and hoping that her hunch was right and the other wasn’t human. 

Despite not needing any ounce of air, Metzli couldn’t utter a single word without it being a weak rasp. It almost hurt to try to get anything through their vocal chords. The sensation was strange, and they didn’t like it in the least. They just had to be thankful for the way they could feel it repair itself, as slow as it may be. There were more pressing matters to focus on anyway. Like the destruction of a painting in their care. 

It was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Make sure it didn’t hurt another person. The bad rapport alone of a patron getting attacked by their own paintings was going to be hard to make go away. Pinche Tsukuogami. Metzli nodded defeatedly, squeezing their eyes shut so they wouldn’t watch the destruction of something that was once so beautiful. They could eat the cost. It was an amatuer artist. Their artist heart, though? It was bending.

Lil couldn’t hear the other, but she tried hard to keep on top of the painting while focusing on them, vines slowly pushing back up knowing that at some point it wasn’t going to be a choice. Normally, she wouldn’t have hesitated breaking the artwork - knowing that at the end of the day it was the painting or people. Still, they had pushed her out of the way when they shouldn’t have. Maybe Lil felt like she owed them the choice. Still, when she saw the nod Lil was relieved that the other agreed. 

Centering herself on the painting Lil thought about how stupid what she was about to do was, and if she didn’t break her foot she’d call that a win. Dropping one foot to the ground near the Vines, Lil quickly jumped onto the painting , her foot  now uneven as she focused all of her weight on the back of the painting along the spine. With a thud and a crunch she felt the thing give way a stutter as she imagined the ghost screamed it now becoming much flatter as it tried to get away.  

She couldn’t hear it if it did. So instead Lil moving quickly bent the painting back until she heard it snap in her hands, feeling at least a little sad she had done it. Still, the vines disappeared from view and for a moment all Lil could hear was her own heavy breathing before she moved off the painting and towards the other limping. She was pretty sure nothing was broken, but the jump and fall hurt. 

“Hey - shit that looks bad. Usually they aren’t that aggressive off of the bat, but  the spirits handled. It seems to have been in the wood in the back of the painting - so you might be able to repair the actual canvas.”  Lil didn’t know why she’d said that to the other. Maybe it was an act of comfort. “Do you want me to call an ambulance? Can I help you?” She said going to sit next to the stranger, knowing that they probably would have a great case against her in court.

It was almost painful to watch Lil destroy the ornate frame the artist had made themself. Both because it was beautiful, and because it was obvious that Lil had no idea how to properly stomp. Metzli was nervous she might sprain or break her ankle somehow. Especially with the Tsukuogami fighting back against every split. Was it hurting? Metzli had to wonder for a moment if it felt anything at all. It had to, didn’t it? To fight back, something needed a will to live, a fear of nonexistence. Not that it mattered anymore. Lil was getting rid of it, and not a moment sooner. 

Metzli scanned what was left of the art piece, eyes filling with sorrow. The artist had given a part of themself when they created it, and now it was ruined. With a sigh, Metzli stood up and lifted the broken canvas, analyzing it further. There was hope yet, it seemed. While the frame of the canvas was broken, the canvas itself was not torn. A smile almost began to take shape on their lips, knowing they could restore the piece and display it once again. For the time being though, Lil was thinking of calling something as useless as an ambulance. 

“Am fine.” They rasped firmly, shaking their head and already setting to work on the cleanup. Metzli didn’t care about anything else but getting the canvas restretched. There was no time to lose. “No ambulance. Want to fix painting.” Waving Lil to away, they picked up the canvas and lovingly carried it away. “Leave out front door please. Have work to do.”

Lil watched as the other started to move, not surprised by the motion as she probably should have been. Whoever the other was, they weren’t human. Still, she watched concerned as they started to get up and move around. Surely they were still in pain, but they seemed focused on the painting on the ground. Lil wanted to ask a bunch of questions about what they were about to do - but figured that she was lucky enough that they wanted to just leave. It was a better outcome than she should have expected. Hell, she didn’t even have to try and run out. 

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything,” Lil said, gathering herself up and putting pressure on her foot, relaxing as she realized it probably was just a little bruised. It would hurt for awhile, but to be honest she was used to it by now. “I’ll leave my phone number in case you get another one.  Sorry,” She said softly, as the other had used please she figured they probably weren’t a fae. 

She didn’t try to follow the other, or help them gather the painting. After all, Lil didn’t know how to fix things, just how to wreck them. 

[muertarte]

[Leila is very excited to celebrate Valentine’s day. Brings Metzli a bouquet, as well as gifting them a single, very old, ornate gold cuff link (she isn’t sure if the charro suit shirt sleeve needs a cuff link, but she found them one that would certainly go with one if it did, you know, just in case…) and a piece of embroidery art that she spent basically since after they proposed the idea of forever. It looks like the night sky, so real you could swear she’d just scooped up the heavens and set them on fabric. But in luminescent thread, she’s written “Pour Toujours, Para Siempre, Forever.” Their promise.]

Metzli holds all their gifts reverently, so moved that they cry for a few minutes before managing to compose themself enough to continue their Valentine’s Day celebrations. They’re looking forward to the many more they’ll have in their forever.

[metzlisnchz]

Habilidades Técnicas de aprendizaje en el lugar de trabajo.

Las habilidades técnicas son capacidades que puedes enseñarle a alguien y que son fáciles de cuantificar. Este tipo de ingenio se aprende en un área académica, en el trabajo o por medio de materiales de capacitación. Sirven para ejecutar aprendizajes técnicos ayudando a trabajar con eficiencia y aumentar el profesionalismo. Se relacionan con tareas mecánicas, informáticas, matemáticas o científicas. Por ejemplo, el conocimiento de lenguajes de programación, manejo de idiomas, conocimientos legales, análisis de data, uso de herramientas digitales, entre otros.

La ola de innovación técnica llega con rapidez y los empleados técnicos deben seguir el ritmo. Es una verdad universal que deben actualizar y mejorar constantemente sus habilidades o ellos, y sus organizaciones, se arriesgan a enfrentar las consecuencias de quedarse atrás.

Basados en "Informe de tendencias de aprendizaje en el lugar de trabajo 2023" realizamos una recopilación de las principales herramientas técnicas en tendencia que necesitamos aplicar. A continuación un listado de ellas:

Computación en la nube (SAP Cloud Platform, Miicrosoft PL-900 y Azure Data Factory).

Ciencia de datos (Matemáticas, Informática PowerCenter, Microsoft Power BI, Ciencia de Datos y Aprendizaje Automático).

Diseño (Accesibilidad Web, Diseño Web, Figma, Diseño de aplicaciones moviles y Canva).

Desarrollo (Entrevista de diseño de sistemas, Desarrollo Impulsado por el Comportamiento,Python, Java y React).

Operaciones de TI (Databricks, 5G, Certificación en Linux y Microsoft).

Productividad en la Oficina (Microsoft Power Automate, Atajos y sugerencias de Excel y Microsoft Outlook).

Debemos de tener en cuenta que las habilidades técnicas pierden relevancia en 2.5 años; en promedio, esto es dos veces más rápido que otros tipos de habilidades. (IBM).

Es posible obtener habilidades técnicas a través de formación académica, cursos profesionales, capacitaciones, experiencias, talleres, conferencias y libros.

Equipo: Juárez Herrera Lourdes, Roblero Gómez Loyda y Sánchez Rodríguez Metzli Alejandra

Materia: Psicopedagogía Laboral

Prof. Blasquez Morales Patricia

[lilian-adamson]

Soulful Studies; Metzli & Lilian 

TIMING: Recent LOCATION: Library  PARTIES: @deathisanartmetzli, @lilian-adamson SUMMARY: After a chance encounter at the Library, the topic of souls comes up.  CONTENT WARNINGS: None 

There had been enough sulking in bed, waiting for the pit in their chest to fill with something other than dread. Metzli couldn’t play dead, as much as they’d like to, as much as they’d like to shut everything off and wait for the opportunity to come knocking. There was just too much waiting. And ‘Great things come to those who wait,’ didn’t really apply in their situation. They needed to be proactive, needed to do something with their pain. If they wanted to start being that version or themselves they preferred again, they had to rip themselves from the internal monster they made come to life in the sheets they hardly left.

That’s how they found themselves at the library again. They were surrounded with papers, reading books Leah had shown them before, with all of the important information they had been given. It was only when they were done sketching out a depiction of a spawn tooth that they noticed Lilian perusing the shelves. She was gorgeous while she was serving them at the bar, and she was gorgeous even while doing something as simple as looking at books. For a small moment, they made eye contact after they had stared too long, but Metzli quickly averted their gaze to go back to their papers.  

There were many things Lilian missed about being on the road. She’d seen a lot of the United States and some bits of Canada, and there had always been something comforting about moving with her family in tow. However, there were benefits to staying in one place, and one was having constant access to a library. Sometimes she’d be dropped off at one, in a town for an afternoon when her parents and she’d always find a book or two to read while she waited. It was comforting in a lot of ways to stand in a library pawing through books and reading them there, but now she could also take them home for a bit. It made her feel somewhat normal, holding a book or two closes to herself while scanning to see if the latest book in a series was out. If not she’d have to put in a request.  

Lil hadn’t meant to catch the other’s eye, more so glancing at the movement of papers but once she did she tried to connect the face. It was a game she’d been playing as soon as she’d gotten settled here and she was pretty pleased she managed to recall their name. Her eyebrow quirked up when they seemed to look back on their papers. Normally she’d probably leave it alone, but it felt like something to follow up on.

“I grab a book you needed?” Lilian said softly as to not incur the wrath of a librarian. “I notice you looking, I can leave it for you. You actually look like you’re doing research.”

Metzli nearly squeezed their pencil in two, a little startled that Lilian actually approached them. “Uh, no. I have all the books I need,” They rubbed the back of their neck awkwardly, taking a small glance towards the front desk. Leah wasn’t sitting there, so they figured they were safe from her librarian wrath. “I just recognized you and then I zoned out. Lilian, right? From the bar?” If it were any other day, the vampire may have tried their hand at a game of flirtation, but the idea seemed rather lackluster. In comparison to everything they were working on, getting someone into bed just wasn’t enticing. 

All of the books and papers Metzli had accumulated were strewn over the table haphazardly. Sighing, they attempted to gather everything into neat piles, only gesturing for Lilian to sit when they were finished. “I am doing a little research, but you’re welcome to take a seat. You come here often?”

Lilian saw the other look startled for a moment and wondered if it would have been better to ignore them. She really had to work on not startling people, but it also seemed like they might just be easily startled. So that’s what she was going to go with until proven otherwise. At the statement, Lil nodded and replied, “Fair enough. I just didn’t want to have a brewing animosity over a book I was only a little interested in.” 

At the use of her full name Lilian winced slightly. It wasn’t their fault, her boss had refused her attempts to tell him to shorten her name at work, and as a result, many people thought she went by her full name. “I usually go by Lil, especially not at work, but yeah, you got me. You’re Metzli, right?” 

Lilian hadn’t meant to put the other out, but as they cleared a space for her to sit, she figured it was at least an invitation to sit and moved to do so. Hell, it wasn’t like she had anything to do now anyway, and there was a curiosity to see what they were reading – although maybe that was better as a mystery. “Thank you, and it seems like it. Are you working on a paper or something?” She didn’t know much about them, so she figured they might be a student or something like that. At the question, she nodded slightly. “I’m probably here too much, but in my defense, they’ve got a good selection here.”

“All my grudges are dramatically displayed, so you don’t need to worry about anything simply brewing.” Metzli smiled as they idly traced over the sketch of the tooth and added a few details. Besides Milo, this was the most conversation they’d had in days. “You got it, Lil. I’m Metzli. Whiskey connoisseur and probably your best tipper.” Another smile, this time a lot more genuine and less tired than before. Lilian had good energy, inviting and light in a way that lifted the weight on their chest considerably. For weeks, they let the mass sink further into them, watching the way the sun leaked like liquid into their room. It casted shadows as dark as their thoughts and did little to provide the warmth so many found in its rays. 

Metzli shut one of their books and let their pencil fall to the side with a soft clatter. Eyes shifted towards the desk, hoping they weren’t too loud. With a shrug, they pushed one of their pages of writing to Lilian. “I guess you can call it research. I’m…writing a fictional story about a vampire trying to retrieve a soul.” To a human, it was a good enough cover, and their name was nowhere to be found on the pages to indicate their connection to the story, how it was actually their journey. “This place has everything, but you seem to probably already know that. Leah, the librarian, is pretty amazing at keeping the shelves stocked with the best shit.”

Lil let out a bark of a laugh, not expecting the reaction, and quickly put her hand over her mouth, trying to keep herself out of getting thrown out. "Got it. I'll keep it in mind. Although I have to admit I'm not that easy to spot on the grudges." Putting the books on a bit of the table, she stretched a bit, trying not to be exceptionally nosey. After all, there was something to be said about curiosity and a cat. At their next words, she was a little less surprised and managed not to laugh but gave a smile instead. They seemed to be at least a little more comfortable, although Lil wasn't quite sure what had changed. "Now, although I appreciate the name swap, that seems like a trap that I'm not falling for. You say that, and then all of a sudden, I've got five people pouting at me for not appreciating them."

At them pushing the page towards Lil, she couldn't help glancing at it, now not nosey but making conversation. She didn't really read it, just scanned it, knowing that the first draft of anything wasn't made to be scrutinized. "Ah, well, at least I was half-right then, and that's an interesting premise to a story. I don't ever think I've heard a vampire trying to get a soul back," she said with a soft smile, carefully moving the page back to them, not wanting to linger more than she should. After all, talking about souls always raised questions Lil couldn't answer. Sometimes when you do a job like she did, you don't ask many questions about the exact nature of anything. It somehow made it easier to be an exorcist and not think too hard about what happened after everything. Despite that, there was something she did want to ask as their phrasing was so specific. "Are they trying to get back their soul or someone else's? The vampire, I mean."

At the last statement, Lil nodded. "Yeah, it's one of the best I've been to. Don't tell any municipal entities, but out of all seven library cards I've got, this one's got the best books."  

“Hey now, I’m a little nosy, so I’ve seen what they tip. Sometimes nothing, sometimes fifteen to twenty percent. Me? Thirty percent.” Metzli bounced their brows and leaned back in their seat, chuckling quietly. They were usually one to break the rules and flip the bird at people who tried to enforce them, but Leah had helped them. That deserved respect and their attention to volume. “And trust me, if I lay a trap, you won’t be able to see it. I’m pretty slick like that.” Shoulders rose and fell languidly in a shrug, pulling them forward to return to their papers. They drove their pencil to the sheet, beginning a drawing from memory of a spawn that they focused on as they continued the conversation.

“Have you never watched Buffy? Cheesy, but they have their own take on retrieving a vampire soul.” Metzli smiled timidly, a little pained by the topic but still trying to play into the facade that it was simply a made up story. “They’re trying to retrieve their own soul. Without it, they’re nothing. Just a selfish monster. Incapable of truly being anything or feeling something for others no matter how badly they want to.” The pencil lines grew darker on the spawn drawing, the applied pressure growing and threatening to rip the paper. Luckily for them, the lead broke, along with their painful train of thought.

Metzli blinked several times and took a grounding breath to appear unbothered and let their usual light demeanor return.  “Seven library cards? Nerd. You don’t have to worry about me blabbing unless you cross me. Then, all of the establishments will know of your betrayal.” 

Lil snorted at the statement, and said, “Listen I’m not about to tell you you’re wrong, I’m just not telling you you’re right.” Working at a bar wasn’t so bad, it was one of the better jobs Lil had gotten, but they were usually temporary jobs. It meant that she didn’t have to keep quite as sociable as long as she had. When you only work at a place for a few weeks you could - for example- leave in the middle of a shift for a call and tell them you quit. Lil didn’t really have that luxury anymore, so she kept her mouth shut a lot of the time. Lil raised her eyebrow at their declaration and shrugged, “We’d have to see on that one. I’m pretty vigilant.” 

Lil couldn’t say that she was great at knowing what people were feeling, but their face seemed a bit more strained then usually a passion project would give. Still, it wasn’t like she knew why Metzi seemed to be passionate about the story and if there was a painful part of it. Art was known for that after all, having a bit of something you’d rather not discuss in a nonfiction way. So she nodded, and tried not to flinch when their lead broke. After all, sometimes it was better just to let someone explain before trying to jump in.  At the end of the talking Lil said softly, “That seems very painful, but I think there’s something to be said of them wanting to get their soul back you know. If someone really didn’t care, or were monstrous like that I don’t think you’d want to get it back - but I’m probably speculating. It’s your story after all, but it’s an interesting one at least. You’ll probably get it published. ” 

Lil felt that they were trying to be lighter in the conversation, and she certainly wasn’t going to stop them. Instead she leaned back into her chair and shook her head, “Listen I don’t like waiting on books and I traveled a lot. Also big words coming from someone sitting in a library the same as me. What’s with you and imminent betrayal? Fine Fine. I won’t come for you. Last thing I want is to be kicked out of having a library card.” 

“I’m pretty sly.” Metzli winked, a little weak, but they hoped it was convincing enough to pass as it usually did. They were too tired to give much more effort, but they knew trying was enough. Effort was the only thing needed for progress to inch forward like a hungry caterpillar seeking nutrients so it can blossom.

Metzli arched a brow, surprised by Lil’s opinion. “There’s nothing really to say about it. Gonna have to see how it ends, though. That’s always the hardest part. Journeys can end a multitude of ways, but this one…” They stared at the sheets of information covering their side of the table. Hands clenched into fists, finding themselves hating the possibilities. “There’s only two. Success or death. But if they die, I guess it’s good that they died trying to do the right thing. Even if they couldn’t do the right thing correctly.” Grabbing another blank sheet, they sought to keep drawing, using distractions to keep their composure.

“I’m only here to do research for my story. Not for fun like you, weirdo.” The name calling wasn’t in malice. In fact, it was playful and relaxed. A peek at their normal behavior. “And betrayal is imminent. Shitty as that sounds, it’s the truth. Learned that way too many times.” Metzli mused aloud, rendering an image of a piece of a person, a random one from memory to place as a higher vampire with a vile of blood next to it. “Anyway, what are you reading?”

Lil snorted again, but decided to let the idea go to them. After all, it was banter and not actually likely to come up and she wasn’t particularly competitive. 

Lil was at least grateful she hadn’t seemed to upset the other with her opinion, but she hadn’t expected the surprise on their face. At their statement Lil frowned slightly in thought at the idea. She’d known damn well there were journeys like that. Hell she could hear her dad’s voice in her head telling her that it was likely that she’d be the family head in her twenties - but that he’d try to give her a few more years. One could argue that exorcists in general lead lives like the one they were describing, but she’d never really truly been convinced that was the only way. If only people thought differently and fixed the problems before they became catastrophic, people wouldn’t have to die or win. Still, that didn’t seem to be what they were talking about and Lil wasn’t sure how to broach a sensitive subject like that. She might have been comfortable among mourning and pain, but she never examined it as closely as it seemed Metzli had. 

Instead Lil said softly, “ I hope they find their soul then. I don’t really think the other is an option. Death would be too sad for someone who wants to do the right thing, especially for a book.” She didn’t know if it was the right thing to say, and she didn’t want to point out that there was a path where the main character could choose to be at peace with what had happened. It didn’t seem like that was an ending that they would want to consider at least. 

At the jab the softness left Lil’s face replaced with exaggerated annoyance. “Excuse me for liking the finer things. It’s like what afternoon on a weekday? What else would I do?” To be fair, Lil probably wouldn’t be doing anything considered traditionally fun anyway, but they wouldn’t have known that. “You’re brimming with optimism today. And after you made fun of me I don’t think I want to share my treasures,” She said trying not to laugh knowing that the books she picked were useful in helping her keep up with her language studies was not going to win her case of not being a weirdo . “I pick randomly, but this one is Anabasis in the original Greek, that’s De agri cultura - and I’m not proving I’m not being a nerd so I’m going to shut up.” 

“I don’t think it’s too sad.” Metzli shrugged, a little distant. “Sometimes happy endings aren’t a thing. Sometimes pieces of them are just so broken by things they couldn’t control, and trust me, there’s only so much glue a person can use to fix damage that’s not even their fault. Just drowning in a sea of shards—” They cleared their throat, realizing they were getting a little too deep in thought and monologuing like an ass. A deep sigh released tension in their chest and they smiled weakly at Lil. Her conversation topic was much better than theirs. 

“I can think of a handful of better things to do on a random weekday in the afternoon. But, I am here, so I guess my argument is kinda moot.” A smile, a little more genuine now, pulled Metzli’s cheeks up and they swiped one of the books from Lil’s side of the table. “Sharing is caring Lil, even a pessimistic fuck like me knows that.” Anabasis. Flipping through the pages, it looked like any other book, but they supposed one could think that when they looked at a painting in their gallery. Language was an art, and they respected it. And really, truly, anything could be art if there was enough passion to back it up. Lil seemed to have that in just reading and consuming knowledge. Her pursuit for knowledge, it seemed to them, was a beautiful art of its own. “You speak Greek, nerd?” 

Lil nodded a little bit at their monologue listening rather than speaking. If she hadn’t realized that a bit of the writing was about them more so than anyone else she knew it now. Under metaphors and grand stories about souls and vampires that something in it was probably about a struggle Metzli was going through. Lil wasn’t quite certain what the metaphor meant, and poking around wasn’t likely to uncover it so she left it. Sometimes people’s pain wasn’t meant for others to know and frankly even if art was a reflection of reality sometimes it was so divorced that it could upset them to point out that they had gotten very impassioned over a fictional story and that it seemed to be a metaphor for something in their life.  Instead she responded with a soft but genuine smile letting the topic flow to something easier than the topic of souls. 

“It is kind of moot,” Lil said with a laugh and a shake of her head. She almost reached for the book immediately out of habit, but Metzli was not her younger sibling nor was it a book that had anything particularly dangerous in it. “I think this was just a long con to get the book I picked up after all,” Lil said jokingly accusing the other. She didn’t really mind being called a nerd, but there was a part of her that found it amusing because she doubted most of her family would have said that. “Speaking is perhaps a bit generous but I can read it and recite it which is not the same as speaking it trust me. Couldn’t hold an actual conversation in ancient Greek but to be fair I don’t think many people can. I know a few others, but I’m not giving you any more fodder to call me a bigger nerd than I already am . ”

Metzli grinned, a little more at ease with their new companion. As tough as things have been, the idle pratter was a welcome change of pace. There was so much work left to do, so many things to mend, but it was nice to pretend for a short while. “See? I told you I’m pretty sly. You don’t even see my traps.” They returned the book, not actually caring to take it. “Nah, I’m kidding. Not a nerd like you.” Papers shuffled together, tapping against the table as the vampire smoothed them into a tidy pile. Research and documenting was done for the day. Looking at the material much more would probably dishearten them with how much more they had yet to face. 

“So, when I’m not researching, what do you recommend I read? Fiction, please. I like crazy stories.” Metzli’s brow arched curiously, a little amused and excited to get a well sourced suggestion. “Since you’re a bookworm and all, I figured you’d be the best person to ask. Could use a little break.” Placing the papers in their book bag, they zipped it up promptly and threw the strap over their shoulder. “I’ll have Leah or Nadia grab the book and I’ll read it. Will even let you know if I like your taste. You’re online, right?”

Lil rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips at the other’s words. “Well you’ve got me on that one, but I’ll watch out next time for it.” Taking the book back she shook her head placing it neatly on the others. “Well now I’m not so sure, but I’ll take your word for it.”  

With a laugh Lil thought for a second about book recommendations, excitement shining in her eyes. It wasn’t an uncommon ask, but it always made her day when someone asked. She didn’t always have a good book off the cuff, but  when that happened she usually went with the first book that came to her mind “Huh, that's a broad category. I think with what you’ve told me you might like Rob Sterling’s  Stories from the Twilight Zone. It could be good in between researching.  I think there’s a copy here and there’s some pretty good tales in it. I am and I’d love to hear what you think.”  

“Thanks, Lil. I appreciate it.” Eyes were a little somber, but Metzli felt so much better than they had before. Conversations about research and books weren't what they thought would light them up, but it had. It helped that Lil had a bit of a sweet personality to her. “I’ll let you know, then. See you later.” They waved goodbye, parting to the front desk to retrieve the recommendation. This wouldn��t be the last time the two met. White Crest was small, yes, but the town also had a way of making the most interesting people cross paths more than once. 

[aspectorofthemoon-blog]

Don't Do It

@bruce-wayne-rp (x.)

This was a bad idea, and Marc knew it. But that didn't stop him from asking. Maybe someone should stop him from digging his heels in further.

Maybe someone should stop him from digging his heels in further!

He took a deep breath to steady himself. He told himself to try and be civil, but what came out his mouth next was more than a little passive aggressive. “If he started the fight, then fine. I get it. But if this has happened more than once, maybe, just maybe, you're not in the right either.”

MARC!

Fuck. This wasn't helping. But you don't need to yell.

I'm yelling because you're not listening!

“Okay, you know what? Maybe what happens here usually isn't my business. But it definitely is when I get back home and Jason is there. So I would love to get a better understanding of you, and what's going on, and why nothing has gotten any better.”

[stalkerjus]

Invocação de Sata, conjuro de Satanás, apelo ao Diabo

Esta é uma oração de Magia negra.

Através desta oração e em ritual de magia negra, pode-se proceder á invocação de Satanás, ao conjuro de Satan , ao apelo do Diabo.

Para feitiços de magia negra, esta oração costuma ser imprescindível.

In nomine Dei nostri Satanas Luciferi excelsi!

Em nome de SATAN, o soberano da terra, o rei do mundo, eu comando as forcas das trevas para conferir o seu poder infernal sobre mim!

Abram totalmente os portões do Inferno e venham adiante do abismo para me saudar como seu irmão (irmã) e amigo!

Concedam-me as indulgências de que falo!

Eu aceitei o seu nome como parte de mim!

Eu vivo como o animal do campo, exultando na vida da matéria!

Eu favoreço o justo e amaldiçôo o corrupto!

Por todos os deuses do Inferno, eu ordeno que todas estas coisas de que falo venham a se realizar!

Venham adiante e respondam seus nomes pela manifestação dos meus desejos!

OH! ESCUTEM OS NOMES!

OH! ESCUTEM OS NOMES!

OS NOMES INFERNAIS

Abaddon Adramelech Ahpuch Ahriman Amon Apollyn Asmodeus Astaroth Azazel Baalberith Balaam Baphomet Bast Beelzebub Behemoth Beherit Bilé Chemosh Cimeries Coyote Dagon Damballa Demogorgon Diabolus Dracula Emma-O Euronymous Fenriz Gorgo Haborym Hecate Ishtar Kali Lilith Loki Mammon Mania Mantus Marduk Mastema Melek Taus Mephistopheles Metzli Mictian Midgard Milcom Moloch Mormo Naamah Nergal Nihasa Nija O-Yama Pan Pluto Preserpine Pwcca Rimmon Sabazios Sammael Samnu Sedit Sekhmet Set Shaitan Shamad Shiva Supay T’an-mo Tchort Tezcatlipoca Thamuz Thoth Tunrida Typhon YaotzinYen-lo-Wang

[deathisanartmetzli]

El Día de los Muertos || Nicole & Metzli

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @nicsalazar @deathisanartmetzli

SUMMARY: Nicole and Metzli celebrate Día de los Muertos.

WARNINGS: Emotional Abuse mentions, Domestic Abuse mentions, Parental Death

It’s going to be okay, Nicole told herself for the hundredth time. And though those words weren’t exactly soothing her nerves, at least they kept her going. Metzli’s door was right in front of her, but she had yet gather the courage and knock.

What was she thinking, really, when she agreed to join Metzli? On día de los muertos of all days? The day was nothing but a grim anniversary of the night Nicole’s life went to hell. A painful reminder of all the mysteries she never solved. She didn’t want to ruin the holiday by looking miserable and ready to cry at every turn. Metzli and their hospitality didn’t deserve that. Nicole had been a little too desperate to connect with anyone who reminded her of her culture, but maybe she was too ambitious.

She raised her fist to the door, clenching her jaw. If she dug deep enough through layers of anger and grief, Nicole would be able to detect the excitement underneath. Fluttering faintly in her stomach. It used to be her favorite holiday. Maybe that’s what made it all the more tragic.

Her knock was firm, without any hint of her inner struggle and when the door opened to reveal her company for the evening, Nicole let her shoulders drop and she sighed. “Hi uh— sorry I’m late, I had some issues with my truck”.  

Metzli had spent the day cultivating ingredients and prepping all the food in preparation for the celebration. They hadn’t celebrated día de los muertos since residing in Mexico. Every year was a big ordeal, but up until today, it had just been any other day. A faint reminder of the culture they had given up when they left home. They had made a variety of foods for Nicole to eat, and maybe they’d partake even if they couldn’t taste it. It was possible that the experience and memories of past celebrations could help them pretend.

They sported business casual attire for the night. Just black dress pants and a forest green turtleneck. The table had just finished being set when Nicole had knocked on the door. There was traditional pan de muerto, Guatemalan molletes, pan dulce, atole, and of course tamales. Tamales were the main course and had taken most of the day to make. Feeling satisfied with the setup, Metzli opened the door to reveal not only the delicious smell of food, but the decorations that they had put effort in putting up. Altar and all. There weren’t pictures on it, but only two offerings. One for their aunt, and one for their uncle.

“Pasale. It’s really no problem. Me dio tiempo para perfeccionarlo todo.” They smiled softly and ushered her in. Yuca was meowing excitedly and hopped onto the console table to greet Nicole. “Don’t mind her. She’s just needy.” Metzli walked back into the kitchen and grabbed two shot glasses full of tequila. “In Mexico, we’d take a shot to begin the festivities, in honor of all those passed. Here.” They gave the shot glass to Nicole and awaited to see if she’d even want to participate.

The experience of entering Metzli's place would remain with Nicole for years to come. Without any walls to separate her from the dishes, the strong aroma she had been picking up from the outside  expanded. Familiar scents mixed with new ones, filling her with nostalgia and interest all at once. She clasped her hands together, taking it all in. “Shit... you didn’t half ass anything”. Her eyes scanned the room slowly, making sure she didn't miss anything. There were similarities to what she grew up with, and differences as well. She didn’t spot any fiambre. But it was the altar what drew most of her attention. Simple yet beautifully set.

Observing both ofrendas, her eyes stung with unshed tears that Nicole blinked quickly get rid of them. She had thought of buying a bouquet of marigolds for the occasion, but decided against it. And she was thankful she didn’t need to, because Metzli had done more than enough with the altar. “This is…” She already sucked at verbalizing things, but she was rendered speechless by the display. Fondness played in her smile, but before she could explain her gratitude, Metzli’s cat hopped onto the table. Nicole shrugged at the comment, she didn’t mind Yuca’s presence one bit. “I’m good with cats” she said simply, chewing the inside of her cheek as she considered her next words. “I guess it comes with the…” she gestured at herself, trailing off. They could probably sense the presence of a bigger cat. But she couldn’t keep thinking about her theory, as a greater concern grew. “Uh...do- do you have catnip by any chance? Cause... you should keep that shit as far away as possible from me”. She did not want to repeat the most recent elevator incident.

She nodded as Meztli approached her with a shot of tequila. “Thank you”, Nicole felt the emotion weigh in her throat. Too early for that. She let out a huff, taking another look around. “I still can’t believe you made all this by yourself. Used to take the whole family to get something like this done.”

“Never half-ass anything. Always, whole-ass it.” Metzli grinned and clinked their glass with Nicole’s and took the shot happily. The familiar burn made their throat tingle and they cleared it in order to respond properly. “No catnip here. Yuca doesn’t really react to it. I totally get it, Nicole.” Shoulders rose and fell in a shrug and moved their way to the ofrendas and motioned her to follow. Eyes grew soft and sorrowful, idling on the conchas they had made and placed for their aunt and uncle.

Words wanted to surface, wanted to ask if Nicole had brought anything to offer, but nothing came. This was the first time Metzli had really, fully acknowledged the family they had lost. “Um, my tio Juanelo and my tia Teresa. I don’t have pictures, but...I do remember late night café and pan dulce. They were the only reason I ever felt like I had a family.” Hands twitched and they pulled out two pieces of sketch paper from a folder on the table. “I sketched these from memory...uh, ¿quieres ofrecer algo?” They asked hesitantly, trying not to let pearls of tears spill. It was a bittersweet evening with a new companion who seemed to relate to not only their culture, but their loss as well.

“Descuple. No pensé que iba sentir tan...desconsolado.” Metzli’s voice wavered momentarily and then they brushed through their hair to compose themselves. “Luckily I never sleep, so setting up could be a one person thing.”

For a moment, Nicole considered Metzli's words. “Huh, that’s a good saying” maybe if more people heard it they’d feel motivated. With the knowledge that she wouldn’t be getting unintentionally high that night, Nicole continued to relax. She glanced at Metzli’s face as they moved to the ofrendas. For someone so physically imposing, Metzli looked uncharacteristically small as they explained the offerings. She couldn’t help but to think back on her childhood. The adults never appeared as miserable during the holiday as the two were right now. She wondered if they were just really good at hiding it from the kids. “They’re really good” her voice was low, but laced with admiration. There was certainly talent in those sketches.

Her cheeks grew hot at the question, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Ah…no. No, I didn’t really think about it” Nicole rubbed her jaw, glancing down at her glass. “Maybe…uh, a drink? You happen to have any rum around?” hell, maybe tequila would work as well, she pondered after she spoke.

“Hey, it’s alright” she shook her head, hand flexing by reflex as she wished to reach out. But would an awkward pat on the shoulder be enough comfort? No, she wanted to spare Metzli from that display. “Permiso” she bowed her head, approaching the altar to better examine it. “Ah,” she humored Metzli’s word with a chuckle and a curt nod. Right, Metzli didn’t sleep. Because they were a vampire. Because they were dead. She paused. Nicole could almost feel the wheels in her head turning. So many questions. Dead people walking sure opened a new world of possibilities. “What— wait… wha- what happens with you, on día de los muertos?” eyebrows knitted together, she snapped her fingers, urging her brain and mouth to work faster on finding the right words. “Your soul, I mean. Wouldn’t…” tearing her gaze away from the altar, she turned to her companion. “Would your soul…would you?” was Metzli even following her at this point?

Blinking themselves into focus, Metzli went to their liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of rum. Each step felt foreign and heavy, feeling like they weren’t themselves. To feel this much, to now know how much they truly lost when they were turned made the day that much more painful. “Here.” They trotted back, handing the bottle over to Nicole and not meeting her gaze. Eyes were glistening with the evidence of their sorrow. If there was any day where it was permitted to display misery, Día de Muertos was it. “I hope this is okay,” voice was distant and a little cold as they stared at the sketches and felt the bottle slip out of their hands, into Nicole’s.

“My soul? I—” Voice stumbled, then a pause, and then finally a choked sob. The shot glass was still in their hand. Squeezing, it exploded. Glass shattered and spread across the floor into millions of pieces. Metzli didn’t move, simply just taking to staring at their companion until they swallowed thickly. “Desculpe.” They rushed to get a dustpan and brush, returning quickly to sweep everything away.

Silence had fallen, intense and thick, but a small voice broke through. “I don’t have one. I lost it. When vampires do heinous things, they lose it. It makes us sadistic and immoral. But…” Glass clinked and rattled into the dustpan, cutting Metzli off for a moment. “I’m trying to be better. I don’t feel empathy or remorse or anything. But I try. So uh, no soul. Nothing happens. I’m empty.” It was a statement of finality. A dreadful and heartbreaking one.

Nicole kept an eye on Metzli as they came back with the bottle. She understood how hard the day was, she couldn’t blame them for trying to hide the pain. She had been there plenty of times. “Thank you” she picked up the bottle gently, wishing again she could be comforting. Reach out, check on the other person. Offer some empty yet reassuring words. But that wasn't her. She had to live with the awkwardness of both of them struggling to keep it together. “Uh, yes...this is okay” her eyes travelled between the altar and the bottle in her hands. Who would the offering be for? It was impossible not to think of her closest family. But placing an offering for any of them would mean…it’d mean accepting that they were truly gone. That they weren’t out there in hiding, waiting to be reunited. Waiting for her to find them. She gripped the bottle tighter, taking a sharp breath in. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t. Fuck, she thought she was over it.

Instead, Nicole opted for a safe option. Placing the item in the middle tier, she let out a shaky laugh. “Mi abuelo no podía vivir sin su ron” a smile found its way to her face. His spending habits were never extravagant, but whenever rum was involved, he always made sure to buy the best. He’d be disappointed to learn that, on the other hand, she always went for cheap beer.

Nicole sensed the shift in the atmosphere even before she finished her question. And shit, why did she have to go and open her mouth? She jumped as the glass shattered in Metzli’s hand.  “Fuck, you okay?” Nicole shook her head at the apology,  glancing at Metzli’s palm. When the silence fell on them, she noticed how fast her own heart was beating in her ears.  So a vampire’s soul didn’t come back on dia de los muertos. Now she knew. Her brow furrowed with concern, listening to them speak. Why was there a part of her that almost envied the inability to feel? How freeing would that be? God, wouldn’t a break from emotions be nice? She felt stupid for even thinking it. Metzli clearly wasn't having the greatest of times. She scoffed, because she had met far emptier humans. And they didn’t have excuses for their behaviour. She wanted to disagree, but Nicole wasn’t sure what good that would do to an already vulnerable Metzli. “Something changed?” she wondered calmly, watching them sweep the glass “for you to want to do better?”.

Metzli could tell there was something deeper residing in Nicole’s despair. It was layered, it was heavy. But they knew better than to dig into someone’s life when they were trying to keep it hidden. If Nicole wanted to speak on the matter, they knew she’d open up. So instead of prodding, they gave her a small and gentle smile at the mention of her abuelo. “Hay cosas que nunca compras a discuenta.” All they did was watch, noticing her breath and heart. The sounds had more depth to them, revealing that she felt tragedy deep within the confines of her soul. That pain followed her relentlessly, and made sure to keep gnawing at her heart.

“I’m okay.” Metzli answered, cleaning up the last of the shattered glass. Throwing it away and putting up the cleaning supplies, they ran their hand under the kitchen sink and spoke loud enough for Nicole to hear, “I made a friend. Someone I think I actually might love. What did she call it?” Brows furrowed as they pondered and sifted through past conversations to locate the word. “Platonic. Platonic love. At first it was more of a challenge I made with myself. But the closer her and I got, the more I just wanted to see if I could do it. Never really had friends before.” Once the black ooze ceased running, they stopped the tap and walked back over to Nicole.

“¿Quieres comer? Creo que un poco de comida va ayudar con la tristeza. Podemos hablar más también.” Metzli motioned towards the food and gave Nicole a small smile. It didn’t quite meet their eyes, but they were trying their best to move on to a simpler subject.

Nicole took Metzli’s assessment with some skepticism, but let them go wash whatever wound the glass caused. Tilting her head, she tried to get a better look of Metzli’s hand, but found herself at an impossible angle. “Need some bandages or…” maybe vampires had fast healing too. It seemed to be a thing among other supernaturals. Either way, she didn’t mind stepping in if Metzli were to require some patching up.

Even with the water running, Metzli’s words reached Nicole’s ears clearly. “That’s ah...” Her eyes narrowed as she pondered what they had said. It was an intriguing concept for someone like her, who barely knew anything about the undead. What would love feel like, for someone who couldn’t experience it? How was Metzli aware that they were feeling love? It was far beyond her comprehension, clearly. “Huh— Well…I’m glad. Sounds like a…uh, pretty good person” despite her confusion, a small smile reached her lips. Metzli's words had an air of hope about them. Someone a century old could just woke up one day and choose goodness. Maybe that’s why she was curious about how it all worked. But she wasn’t the person qualified to discuss love, she didn’t have much insight. The love she craved to give had no place to go. “Must’ve be a huge fucking change. Can’t be easy. After so many years… by yourself”.

Nicole glanced down the shot of tequila still in her hands. Now she was the only one holding it. “Sorry. Should we…get this started?” maybe talking about their hardships would be a lot more manageable over food. “Don’t know about you… but, some tequila would really take the edge off…” she gestured around the room, “this whole day”. At least it would be easier to talk about it.

With a sigh, they walked back over and nodded, “Huge change. I don’t know que chingados estoy haciendo.” Metzli chuckled and grabbed their glass and tequila bottle. All the years they spent alone, not celebrating an integral part of themselves and leaving everything they had known behind. The day they were bitten, everything became all about vampirism and serving Eloy. He took all of that and made sure that their world revolved around him. But not anymore. They finally had the chance to make their own life and bring back everything they had thought was once dead, forever.

“This is a good start though,” They smiled somberly and poured another shot for themselves to join in with Nicole, “Celebrating what and those we have lost, and taking back whatever we can.” Metzli rose their glass, clinked it with Nicole’s and took it in one fluid motion. The air was taking a noticeable change, one closer to what the Dia de los Muertos meant: remembrance and hope.

Gesturing to the food, Metzli smiled and pointed at each item individually. “There’s tamales. Cheese, pollo, and puerco. Then there’s pan de muerto, and I tried my hand at molletes. I hope I got it right. I know that’s a typical Guatemalan for today. Please help yourself to anything.” They handed a plate to Nicole and gestured to all the food.

Nicole nodded slowly, mirroring Metzli as they spoke. “Well…really hope you get the hang of it”. It hadn’t been a century for her, but it was easy to relate. Despite the different reasons. The years spent in the brain of an animal had effects on her to this day. She had to learn many things about communication all over again. The prospect of deeper connections had been out of the picture long enough to let her grow comfortable in her loneliness. Getting out of the rut was a real challenge.

“Alright, there we go” eyebrows rose in surprise, seeing Metzli pour a shot again. Nicole grinned as their glasses met, and followed Metzli’s lead a second later. She pursed her lips, turning her attention to the table, the aroma still as enticing as they were when she first entered the place. “You didn’t have to…” she eyed the molletes and shook her head, touched by the gesture. “But thank you, this is…something”. She tapped her empty glass, getting lost in her own thoughts again. As she looked at all the familiar dishes, she wasn't filled with the bitterness she expected. The feeling unsettled her. For so long she tried to distance herself from the day. Hoping it would somehow erase her story, her heritage. It was tainted with negative connotations.

But maybe— Maybe… Nicole listened to her heart, every pound felt like an earthquake. Shaking and breaking apart the fortress she created to keep herself safe for years.

“Sorry… uh, this is bringing back some memories” Nicole managed a laugh, grabbing a bit of everything for her plate. Even the sweet treats she’d usually skip back in the day. She glanced at Metzli, considering her next words. She still had to get used to it, sharing things unprompted. Like they would matter to someone. “I think— I was caught up feeling nostalgic and shit, that I forgot all the stress of the day” being the oldest sister always carried extra responsibilities, especially on important days. “That kitchen was a mess. I— I swear… we’d all end up fighting. And then act like nothing happened” she paused, looking at Metzli, who had no need for food. “Will you eat with me?” it came off as a request more than a question.

A feeling of pride filled Metzli’s chest as Nicole didn’t leave anything out on her plate. Her kind had a good sense of smell, so she it definitely appetized her enough to pick everything at once. “It was honestly my pleasure. I...I never really got to participate in Dia de Los Muertos. I typically had to watch from the small window or sneak out. Which never ended well for me.” They let out a dry chuckle and ran a hand through their hair at Nicole’s request. “Oh? S-sure. Yeah, I’d love to.” A pit sank into their stomach, knowing they wouldn’t be able to taste much, but it also brought a sense of relief to know that Nicole actually did want their company. Having someone to share this side of them was important, and it made them feel at home.

Gathering everything on their plate, they hummed happily at the smells and let out a small giggle. It was childlike and free, with nothing standing in their way this time. No basement, no parents, no punishments. “This is liberating,” Metzli began, pulling out a seat for Nicole before sitting down and taking a small bite of their tamale. The texture was nostalgic and tears nearly welled up in their eyes at having a hot meal. Something rare and a completely luxury during childhood. “Starting fresh, you know? That’s freedom. From all the past pains. We can still start new.”

Pausing for a moment, Metzli let Nicole settle in before asking her a question. “I suppose forgetting those arguments was just a part of being a family? Because at the end of the day, you were just that: family.” There was a twinge of jealousy that formed a painful ball in their throat, but they did their best not to show it. “I bet that was nice though, right? Got any good memories you wanna share?”

“Oh—” Shit. Nicole’s gaze switched from her plate to Metzli, brow furrowed with concern. “I’m sorry” she mumbled, looking down at her plate. She reflected on Metzli’s word. It made the perfectly crafted menu before her eyes that much more meaningful. “Why is…that?” She questioned, not looking at Metzli and giving them the option to pretend they didn’t hear her. The fact that there were only two offerings at the altar was enough to clue Nicole into their family dynamics.

Seeing Metzli's unabashed joy over the food, Nicole smiled. They were experiencing something new and she was honored to be there. She scooped some mollete, anticipating the first taste, but when Metzli spoke again, she paused. “Yeah… that— it sounds nice”. The idea of starting new had been on her mind a hundred times before, and she kept convincing herself that she was one last hurdle away from being free. Yet she kept finding reasons to postpone that freedom. “Ah… yeah. I think so”  her fingers drummed against the table. At the question, her mind immediately went back to that last Dia los muertos, even knowing it would be hopeless. Most of that day was lost to her. The nightmare of that night was preceded by a black fog of unknown, no matter how many times she forced herself to remember it, she couldn't. “My memory isn’t— the best…” she bit her cheek, keeping the explanation to herself. Instead, she tried to recall those good memories Metzli asked for.  

“I don’t wanna…you know, show off” she quipped, playful grin spreading across her face. It was rare to feel comfortable enough to switch between serious talk and jokes, but Nicole didn't question the easy understanding they had fell into. “I can talk about them like they were a bunch of assholes. I do have stories too” she grabbed the bottle of tequila, pouring herself a drink. In silence, she debated on the right amount of miserable to share. “I’ve been— uh, pretty angry at them cause…” she reached for Metzli’s glass and filled it as well, “just… the way life turned out but— yeah…there was good. Lots of it”.

Nicole had been polite enough to try and subtly give them a way out of an explanation, but in honor of the day, Metzli decided to be honest. Well, vaguely honest. “It’s liberating because my parents...they took to locking me away in a...dark space to top off punishments. Sometimes I would just stay out late on the days and got to experience Dia de Muertos twice.” Smiling sheepishly, they took some of the homemade salsa and lathered the tamales in it before taking a large bite. It was such a dull taste, but it was there, there enough for them to grow excited and have an idea of how good it truly tasted to Nicole. The hard work they put into the meal paid off, and they could see it in Nicole’s delighted reaction to the food.

Metzli listened intently, watching their glass be filled to the brim with tequila. Smiling, they grasped it carefully with their fingers and tapped quietly as Nicole spoke somberly. There was pain in her words, a world in her mind that was long gone but still affected her. They could understand that, they could understand the hold trauma had. “If you can’t feel the wholehearted depth of your heart with your family, are they really your family? The good, the bad, all of it. It’s important. I only ever felt...the bad. And look how I turned out.” Playful undertones laced over their voice and they let out a breathy chuckle. “I have a new family, though. Chosen family. And while it doesn’t erase the longing I had as a child for my blood family to love me, it does make things easier to have a family at all.”

Food was nearly consumed completely on Metzli’s plate while the two conversed. They had barely noticed they had eaten so much, but were still able to enjoy the hot meal and the dulled spices. “How about this next drink goes to something now,” they began, gentle brown eyes locking with Nicole’s, “To friends,” Metzli nodded at Nicole and smiled, “And to chosen family.” The glass clinked with Nicole’s and tapped on the table before the contents were thrown back and consumed.

Nicole didn't know what she expected when she asked for details, but it was definitely not that. This wasn't a simple messy family situation. It was neglect, it was— “Fuck, I can’t… can’t imagine…I’m—”, she glanced at them, eyebrows raised in surprise. Despite having already apologized, she felt the need to repeat it as many times as possible. Until it was clear to Metzli that their childhood was far from what they deserved. Sometimes silence was preferable to words, Nicole thought. It seemed Metzli had already dealt with it. Until she knew them better, she couldn't tell if their coping skills worked. Seeing them add salsa to their tamales, she exhaled sharply and let the silence fall, concentrating on the meal.  

As always, the sweetness of the mollete was faint in her mouth, but it was that similarity that made her smile. “This is perfect” she confirmed, and went on to try the rest of the food. There were hardly any comments to make when everything tasted so fucking good. “I know you’ll like hearing this but…you— you have a way with words… you know” a half-smile pulled at her lips. Nicole couldn’t argue with how insightful their words were.  Her heart felt the depth Metzli spoke of. At the mention of a new family, she glanced at Metzli’s offerings on the altar. It had to be a painful journey for them, “I’m happy for you”. They deserved it, Nicole thought as she pinched some pan de muerto.

Taken by surprise, Nicole pushed her glass closer to Metzli's. “To friends…” she conceded slowly, smile fading. Having dinner with someone wouldn't have been possible a year ago, when she spent the holiday crying at home. A year ago, she wouldn't have toasted to friends. They didn’t exist. She hadn’t stopped to think about that. She wasn’t paying attention to her life.

Her family came first. She still chose them above everything, even herself. Was any other family possible when she refused to let go? “Hmm…to— to try to get…uh, unfucked by whatever hurt us. No, that sounds—” To moving on? leaving the past behind? “To healing?” she settled with a weary sigh, because fuck— she was exhausted. Drinking her shot, Nicole tapped the empty glass and hummed in contemplation. "I'm so glad I didn't bail out. Thank you… for everything” she looked at the empty dishes and leftovers.

“It’s—it’s really okay, Nicole. You don’t have to apologize for my parents. Ya no me pueden lastimar.” Metzli reached their hand out, and patted Nicole’s hand, doing their best to alleviate any negative feelings she felt. “There’s no need to feel sympathy for a monster.” Words were a little vacant, topped off with notes of sorrow. They didn’t want to be a monster, but they were. It was something they had accepted a long time ago, though it was sometimes hard to battle with. Being good was preferable, especially since good people deserved happiness. And god, they wanted to deserve happiness.

Brows raised at the unexpected compliment, accompanied by a humored scoff. “I do? Never been told that, but thanks.” Metzli reached for the pan de muerto too, and ate it, focusing on the texture and enjoying it. The night had been good, great even. Despite the layers of sorrow that came with remembrance of those who had passed, there also came a celebration of their lives. The memories they had created that can be passed down and told to anyone who would listen. And by doing so, those people never truly died, they never could. A solace could be found in that fact, tucked away behind the pain. Something that was written all over Nicole’s skin during the toast she fumbled over. “To unfucking ourselves. It’s just another fancy way to say healing.” They replied with a laugh. “It’s all we can really try to do. And that’s okay. It’s easier with friends.”

Metzli didn’t expect to be thanked, but they definitely didn’t expect to incite such honesty. “I’m glad you didn’t bail out too. This was a good idea. Why don’t we put on Coco? I’ve been watching it all week and it still hasn’t gotten old. You can’t make fun of me when I tear up, though.” They teased, picking up the plates and covering the food before gesturing for the couch.

“You bring the tequila and I’ll set up the movie.”

Nicole nodded, staring apprehensively at their hands, but accepted their gesture. Metzli was right, they couldn’t hurt them anymore. That’s all that mattered. She wasn't sure how to feel about the next words, however. Before meeting Metzli she wouldn’t have hesitated to consider them a monster. Even now, learning about their past, it didn’t erase the danger they posed to humans. She felt uncomfortable, being challenged on her past beliefs. All she could be certain of, was that her heart ached for the human they used to be. That was fair, wasn’t it? She still needed more time with Metzli to figure out her feelings on other issues.

“Uh huh,” Nicole reaffirmed with a proud grin. Metzli looked surprised by her words, but she had been genuine. Then again, everyone sounded like an eloquent speaker to her. She leaned back in her chair, full after tasting every meal, but strangely content. She was starting to understand why people chose to confide in others. The evening had been comforting, despite how heavy the discussion had been at times. In a way it had brought clarity to Nicole on things she already suspected. Her heart just needed more time to accept what her head already knew.

Like the fact that, deep down, she knew her family would never return. There was only one survivor that night. No ambiguity about it. The idea that they were somehow alive, yet never tried to contact her, wasn't plausible. Surely they would have exhausted all resources to find her? It wasn't like she was able to think logically before. Not with this. She stared at the glass, unblinking and swallowed against the knot in her throat.

And maybe her brain had shutoff to protect from fully breaking down in front of Metzli, or the tequila was numbing everything, but she appreciated her apathy at the breakthrough. She let out a laugh, pushing away her pain. “Alright, well… guess we’ll keep trying then” she concluded. And hopefully, one day she will remember who she was before the world got its hands on her.

It was a good idea, Nicole agreed. She would’ve ended up regretting not taking the invitation. As Metzli stood up, she followed, ready to help with the dishes. Her head tilted with confusion at the suggestion. “What’s…” she didn’t know what ‘Coco’ was or why they’d be crying, but if there was one thing she couldn’t judge people on was their crying quotas. “Okay, yeah…sure” The name was vaguely familiar, so she shrugged, learning it was a movie not a second later. She didn’t watch many of those, but grabbed the bottle anyway. After an evening discussing incredibly painful topics, watching a silly movie in silence seemed like best choice. How could it possibly go wrong?

Nicole came to realize later, she really should’ve known better than to underestimate Coco.

[clayanddust]

Cadena's Clemency (Metzli + Clay)

Participants: Metzli Bernal (Vampire-Jojo), Clay Hale (Slayer, Tapir

Location: Crest Works Art 

Summary: Clay tracks down a group of Cadena Clan Vampires only to find them attacking Metzli outside their gallery. Sometimes you rush in too fast and end up fighting to save an evil crime family’s heir, .....it happens to everyone right?

Content Warning: Head trauma tw

Icy mist blocked out the night sky in a silver haze. Even on this rooftop Clay could only see into the next alley before the brick buildings and darkened storefronts of East End vanished in the winter fog. It meant the Slayer had to keep closer to the group of vampires he was tailing then he would’ve liked. Clay quietly moved across the closely packed group of snowy rooftops, the group of vampires distant blips of undeath at the edge of his Slayer clairvoyance.

Word had come up the grapevine from Mexico that forces from the Cadena clan were on the move and ranging far from their usual sphere of influence. Clay wasn’t an expert on vampire politics outside of the feuding clans that’d terrorized Appalatia, but this newest group hadn’t entered the city with the stochastic violence and feeding of your usual Lost Boys blood junkie types, and instead moved with focused purpose. Clay figured any objective the Cadena clan saw as worth sending squads of foot soldiers up some random beach town in Maine needed investigating.

Clay had caught up with his quarry at Crest Works Art, a local art gallery located in a Manhattan-style townhouse of red brick and black iron railings. Normally, the Slayer would’ve simply surveilled until he had more information, as superhuman immortals were plenty dangerous on their own without the advantage of numbers and their clan’s lethal training. But the Cadena squad was already in the process of dragging someone through the snow to behind the gallery building.

Clay descended the fire escape from his rooftop vantage point and jumped down to the alley, hitting the snowy cement at a run.

Metzli had said bye to their employees and were just finishing up final walkthroughs when they heard footsteps approaching the door. Death permeated from the group, and they growled. Never bothering to lock the front entrance was really proving to be a bad idea now. They’d never thought to lock it before, finding comfort in their skills as not only a vampire, but a more than capable fighter. “We’re closed.” Not turning to face the culmination of idiocy, they scribbled a few more check marks on their clipboard and set it down. They turned slowly, eyes glowing crimson and fangs sharp, displayed for the group as they removed their suit jacket. “Leave.” Authority bled through the single word, almost as much as the vampires would before being turned into piles of ash.

Some of the vampires faltered, taking a few steps back, as if they weren’t sure if they were supposed to listen or not. “No. Vinimos todo el camino hasta aquí y tú vas a venir para atrás con nosotros. (No. We came all the way here, and you’re coming back with us.)” One of the vampires spoke and came forward, trying to impose himself. Metzli met his gaze with a stoic one, suddenly lunging forward before he could react and twisting his neck. His body went limp, the death being very finite when they ripped his head off. “Who’s next?” They glared, standing fully erect and tilting their head in question.

Dead blood stained their clothes, skin, and floor, streaking as the group gathered their wits and attacked together. Metzli removed a stake from a back holster they began to wear after the incident with Emilio. Out of the 10 vampires left, they took out two more, ash parading the air as they thrashed to get away. It was no use. The snow depressed beneath them as they were dragged to the back of the building. “We’re gonna make this last.” The woman from before, whom they had met during their mission in Mexico spoke up. “You…” Metzli said, voice full of shock. She was Eloy’s second in command. “Yeah, me. You took our master, and now you’re going to pay.”

The threat was interrupted by the plop of a snowball smacking against the back of a vampire's head. “¡Qué mierda!” But he had barely turned before the cursing  climbed into an agonized scream. The smell of moist boiling flesh filled the alley as the bone of the vampire’s skull lay bare amidst bubbling gore. He fell twitching to the ground, scarlet eyes wide and unfocused in pain.

Clay was spotted a moment too late, pouring a vial of holy water onto a snowball and clenching it between his fingerless gloves to freeze the snow and holy water together into a compact mass. In only took a second for one of the vampire’s to be in a full spring towards the Slayer, moving with the lethal grace of a predator, but it took less than that for Clay to finish his baseball pitcher windup.

“Heeeeeyoooooooo”

The holy water snowball slammed into the vampire’s face. Skin fizzled and frothed as the vampiress careened to the ground mid-stride, clutching at her blinded eyes

Clay knew the downed vampires’ wounds were merely temporary, but their captive was his priority. Two more captors lunged at him with blows that’d couldn’t shatter bone, but the Slay tore the simple necklace with a small cross out from under his shirt. The crude metal symbol blazed with the molten orange of welded iron so close to the vampires, stark against the winter gloom. The undead reeled back with a pained hiss.

Clay dashed across the snow  to take his place in front of Metzli protectively, upraised cross a fragile barrier against the enraged vampires now circling around the pair like wolves. “Leave em alone or I’ll dust you fuckers,”  the Slayer said threatened, the vampires clustered to close for the Hunter’s senses to discern his rescuee also carried the curse in their veins.

Metzli winced only slightly as remnants of the impacted snowball landed on their hand. There was no mistake in the scent of his blood or how well prepared he was, this man was a slayer. They swallowed thickly, analyzing the situation and realizing he didn’t know their condition matched his opponents. By being surrounded by them, they were covered. “Thanks…” it was a low mutter, too difficult to get out after being beaten for a few moments. “Thought I was a goner for sure.” Slowly, they stood up, eyeing the looming vampires that began to surround and close in.

“You take half and I take the other?” Metzli asked, dusting off their damp clothes from the snow and loosening their tie to take it off. One of the vampires lunged after Clay with a knife, but they stepped in and wrapped the tie around his neck to restrain. The swing barely missed as they whipped him around and body slammed him to the ground with a heavy thud. He was nothing in a matter of seconds, his own knife being forced into his chest. Before long, everyone jumped in. “Metzli is mine. No one touches it but me,” the lady vampire hissed and Metzli couldn’t help but scoff. “It? Seriously?” She swung carelessly, too consumed by her anger to fight properly. They took to dodging and assessing the fight in its entirety, taking special care to watch Clay should he need assistance.

“Look diggin the confidence an’ all but maybe you should ….oh uh…ok then, go off I guess.” Clay’s concerns about a civilian throwing themselves into the fray against superhuman immortals trailed off as this Metzli person saved him from a shanking with wardrobe-jitsu. “Thanks.”

Clay didn’t have time to contemplate his new ally’s prowess before he was fighting for his life. A nearby vampire unsheathed a Mexican Cuirassier saber. The long blade with its ornate hand guard was an archaic weapon, but brutally effective with vampiric strength behind it. The Slayer dropped to one knee to narrowly  avoid being decapitated by a swordstroke whose sheer force whistles through air, only to have to leap back and roll away from an unrelenting follow-through  of elegant bladework, each strike threatening to dismember him.

Morelos was a square-shouldered man with several inches on Clay. He had a broad oval face topped by a straight cut of black hair and a dimpled chin that jutted out beneath his fanged frown. When his commander declared that Metzli was her prey alone, the ex-soldier scowled disapproval at the irrational strategy but didn’t contradict her. He let out a soft hiss as the Slayer slipped beneath and away from his sword-strokes, only for his pale lips to twist in satisfaction for his blade came away wet with scarlet stains as Clay ducked through the icy fog into an adjoining alley.

“You heard her,”Morelos commanded the three underlings that still remained combat ready. “Eliminate the Slayer, back me up draw your pistols ..”

A bloody knife whistled from the silver mist and buried itself hilt-deep in the forehead of one of Morelos’ subordinates. It would have merely been inconsequential to one of the undead, except for the caustic Slayer blood that sent the clanmate into screaming convulsions. Morelos spared his clanmate only a glance as they thrashed on the ground, in agony from the acidic blood that the Slayer had intentionally slathered on the thrown knife. Morelos advanced into the fog with his saber at the ready, glowing scarlet eyes scanning the haze for the Slayer, two clanmate with drawn pistols at his back.

Slayers were always known to be more than capable fighters. Growing up was all training and learning certain codes and rules to live by, to hold close to their heart. But they were surrounded, and Metzli knew better than to think either of them would be okay on their own. Eventually, they’d end up having to help Clay, but they’d avoid that as long as they could. Protecting an enemy, one that loathed their existence, was against every moral they had. If one could call them morals.

Metzli charged at the woman, dodging her knife as best they could. She managed to slice their skin a few times before they twisted her arm. “Fuck off!” They slammed her against the wall, hearing her skull crunch between their hand and the wall. Now that she was out cold, they whipped their body around and tackled down one of the men holding a pistol. His gun went off, sending a sharp ringing in their ears. The bullet had just barely missed Clay, who was still fighting almost enthusiastically, like mine is the impacts were affecting him. Even his heart was calm. How could that be? It intrigued them, and they wondered what he’d seen. Perhaps he was similar to them? Perhaps the two could be friends. And wouldn’t that be funny? A slayer and vampire as friends. That was too much to ponder on for the time being, though.

“Watch out!” Metzli watched as the other vampire had his gun aimed at Clay. With a headbutt to the nose, their fighting partner was groaning and crying, too distracted with his own pains to stop them from tackling the slayer down as the bullet clipped through the chamber and hit their shoulder. They winced, staying on the ground and covering the wound to stem the black ooze. It was wrong, a vampire saving a slayer, but they had to repay the man despite what nature’s rules were.

For a moment Clay was in a state of fight or flight. Direct contact with undeath made the Slayer’s clairvoyant senses flare to the point of pain. Clay rolled from where he’d been tackled into the snow and kicked back up to his feet with trained economy of motion, machete already descending towards the vampiric ambusher before realization paused fighting instinct. The undead presence he’d just felt against him was Metzli. Clay could smell the necrotic rot in the blood oozing from their wound, a gunshot wound they’d taken in his place. “You’re a..”

But the Clay had to whirl around to narrowly parry a saber that'd swung out from the frozen mist, the clang and rasping screech of metal saving him from Morelos' attempt to decapitate him from hiding.

“Who even is Metzli to you,” Clay snapped as he ducked beneath another deadly arc of Morelos’ riposte and took a swipe at the vampire’s right leg. “Did they paint your Vampy Godfather with a hairlip or something?”

But the Slayer’s blade only chopped off a single leathery wing as Morelos’ form disintegrated into a dust devil of bats. The miniature tornado of furry bodies surged around Clay in a storm of darkness wings before the vampire abruptly reconstituted behind the Slayer, Cuirassier blade already in a downward stroke towards the mortal’s shoulder. “You still don’t get it, do you,” Morelos realized.

Yet the vampire was forced to reel back in pain as Clay’s freehand brought up the cruciform necklace, metal burning bright with ire. The path of Morelos’ sword went wide and the Slayer pressed his advantage, machete in one hand and holy symbol in the other, wielding this contradiction of sanctity and brutality to force the vampiric swordsman onto the backfoot. “I fucking swear to God, if this is another But Aren’t You The Real Monster After All cliche,” Clay groused as he maneuved the vampire against the alley wall, “I’m gunna garlic spray you.”

Morelos had to dissipate into bats again to avoid machete dismemberment, but this time the Slayer was ready for the chiropteran Houdini routine and was on the Vampire the moment he reformed. “Idiot,” snarled Morelos as his graceful bladework met the calculated savagery of Clay's chopping swings in a clang of metal. “Has it dawned on you that you’ve just risked your life to stop vampires from killing their on kin,” the vampire said, mist swirling around at the curving wake of his blade as it descended and ascended toward the mortal in a deadly unrelenting rhythm. “Do you even know who you’ve rescued?”

For a time Clay didn’t answer and for a minute the Slayer and vampiric knight put all their intent into murdering each other in this foggy alley behind Crest Works Art, the Slayer’s acrobatics keeping time with the Vampire’s continuous dissipation and reconstitution as swarms of bats, each side searching for his final opening to end this.

But then Morelos saw it, an uncertain flick of the Slayer’s dark eyes in Metzli’s direction. “Just leave this to us,” Morelos offered, splitting into a vortex of bats as the Slayer’s blade whistled through the air he’d occiped a nanosecond before. “The Cadena Heir isn’t yours to protect Slayer. Just walk away, we’ll end this threat for you.”

Clay did not dignify the rhetorical drama with a response, watching the bats carefully as he began to spin the cross necklace in one hand like he was winding up a bola. The Slayer had been counting the seconds it took Morelos’ to reconstitute very carefully throughout the fight, and now had his mark. With a snap of the wrist, the Slayer lobbed the holy symbol straight into the mass of bats as they recongregated to reform Morelos’ body.

Morelos’ scream echoed through the fog as he reformed with the cross partially buried inside of him. The vampire’s sabre fell to the ground as he thrashed in agony, burning from the inside out. “The heir! You damn foo,” but the vampire's suffering was ended by Clay’s headsman's chop. The knight became just more dust in the snow.

Clay exhaled, sweat streaming down his face as turned and walked towards Metzli, machete still drawn, holding the wound in his side with his freehand. “Is it true,” the Slayer demanded wearily. “Are you the Cadena Heir?”

Metzli’s eyes widened and stared at the machete that threatened to jam straight into their nose. Clay was just doing his job, but they had hoped against hope that maybe he’d make an exception. But even they knew he’d be stupid to let them live while thinking they were the heir of a dangerous clan, even if they took a bullet for him. “I don’t want to be the heir,” they groaned shakily. The bullet was lodged into their shoulder, and it burned. “I killed Master Eloy, but I—I didn’t know they’d look to me to take over.” Tears began to fill their tear ducts. Not out of fear about the slayer, but memories of torture and agony. “I just wanted him to stop coming after my friends, to stop coming after me. But now this is happening. People either want me to lead or dead.” Their words were coming out frantic, completely emotional. “All for a man that ruined lives and hurt everything he touched!” They practically shrieked at the last sentence.

They moved backwards, trying to get away from the blade. It loomed over them like death. Death wasn’t supposed to show its face, not until it was time. It was an ominous and creeping entity, waiting and watching behind you while you existed. Metzli was beginning to think that it was their time, and they desperately didn’t want it to be. But maybe it was okay that it was. All they did was cause problems. All they did was hurt their loved ones. They kept being told that it was okay, that they were willing to take that pain. It just never seemed right. “I guess this is where you kill me?” They stopped moving backwards, wincing at how their wound sent sharp needles down their arm. “I understand. It’s your job. You kill monsters. You kill problems. And…” their eyes shut tightly, stopping the flow of tears. “I’m a problem.”

Clay slid the machete into the sheath on his back. The Slayer could feel the signatures of the other wounded vampires retreating with their leaders disposed of. One by one the blots of cold oily undeath at the edge of his consciousness down the alleys and across rooftops, until the only presence Clay could feel was beside him. Soon they were alone in a foggy alley full of snow and vampire dust. The frosted brick walls and alleyways, reduced to just tactical obstacles in the thick of fighting, now loomed around them, reminding Clay of his smalness at they seemed to extend endlessly upward into the gloomy grey sky.

Clay became acutely aware of his own mortality as the flood of adrenaline began to leave his system.  Pain was throbbing fire in blade wounds on his side and right shoulder. He shivered in the cold, blood loss seeming to bring winter into his veins. For a time Clay held the cross necklace at the ready, to ward off any sudden lunge from the vampire. Yet, as he watched the vampire weep and back away from him, the Slayer placed the necklace back around his neck and tucked it under his shirt.

“You aren’t the main problem I see right now,” Clay said slowly, voice deepening in weariness as the numbing high of adrenaline left his system. “The one I do see is that we need to get that bullet out of your shoulder or you’ll regenerate around it,” he pointed out softly. “And that’ll keep hurting like a motherfuck later.”

Metzli looked and felt dumbfounded when Clay put his machete away, even more so when he noted how the bullet in their shoulder needed to be taken care of. He wanted to help them, he wanted to help a vampire. Was this a new pattern for them? Being targeted by hunters and slayers just to thwart them with…emotions? Their attempt at decent morality? They weren’t sure what it was, but it kept saving them. “You’re hurt, too. You should probably take care of yourself first.”

Their brows creased together, confusion covering their features. They weren’t truly concerned, but they knew how to appear to be. “I got myself covered. You should go.” For a few moments, they struggled to stand, but they eventually got to their feet and made an attempt to walk back to their gallery. “If this is a trick, well…that really sucks. But if it’s not…thanks. I’m trying to get this under control. Stop them from coming here and ruining shit.” Metzli kicked some of the bodies, dragging a few of the solid ones into a pile so they can be set ablaze. That was the only way to ensure they’d no longer be a problem.

“What’s the point of tricks when I could’ve beheaded you earlier,” Clay pointed out, helping drag bodies towards a central point on the pile. Metzli was right, he needed to see to this bleeding, but things would get complicated if the cops found these undusted bodies.

“Sooooooo,” Clay effused as he lopped a vampire onto the pyre pile after rifling through the undead’s pockets insearch of weapons, wallets, jewelry, and identifying information. “Not to be a hater but that doesn’t seem to be goin well so far, and I also vibe with not having Cadena squads rolling into town,” he said. “Would you wanna cooperate with getting rid of that problem…or?”

“A slayer and vampire working together? Is this Buffy?” Metzli was a little more relaxed, making jokes and not worried about death being near anymore. “I’m down to help. No problem there. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not your typical vampire. I’m…” They dropped the final body into the pile, rubbing their neck and sighing awkwardly. “I’m trying to be better. Our sire, the fucker I killed, he was a real piece of work. Torture, manipulation, you name it. He did it so he could have control.” Their hands gestured to the pile, relying on Clay to have the tools to set it ablaze. It was his job, so they just hoped they were right. “I guess this is your part. I generally stay away from fire.”

Clay poured sacred oil from a danter onto the bodies, the smell of gas and olive olives mixing with the stench of blood. Clay produced a zippo lighter and soon the bodies were burning merrily, pungent oils mixing with the acrid grainy scent of dead flesh disintegrating into ash.

“Fits what I’ve heard about the Cadena Elder,” Clay admitted, crouching down to warm his hands in their fingerless gloves by the blaze. “Killing you wouldn’t bring back those you’ve hurt anyway,” the Hunter pointed out with pragmatic dispassion. “I’d rather work together to protect the living right now rather than try to get vengeance for the dead.”

The fire and putrescent smell made Metzli’s eyes water as they watched the bodies burn, watched them turn into nothing. Long lives ended right before their very eyes, another piece of Eloy’s saga turned to dust just as he did. Again, by their hand. They wondered if they’d ever be done with the erasure of his mark on the world. “Yeah. He…he deserved what he got.” The urge to leave and hide away crept up, and so they turned to leave. “I own this gallery. Should you require my assistance, I will be here. Just ask for Metzli. This probably won’t be the last time we cross paths even if you don’t request my help.” Their shoulders faced the building, relief making them droop considerably. They were minutes away from dropping down into the loft bed. The door creaked as loud as their bones felt like they might, but fortunately their aches were silent to normal ears. “See you later, Slayer.”

Hours later Clay leaned back on the simple cot in his room, tightening the last of the gauze-laced bandages around his left shoulder and ribs. The recuperating soldier idly tossed a baseball in his free hand. It clunked against the ceiling, the neighbor’s floor, before Clay caught it again on the fall. Again and again the Slayer tossed the baseball, thunking in time with his thoughts.

“Fuck! Hale, swear to god…stop or i’ll fucking kill you! Son of a bitch, this time I’ll….”

His neighbor's fury brought a smirk to Clay’s face. Clay caught the ball one last time before turning it over in his hand, finger feeling the working of the stitches along its sides.

Clay looked at the phone on the floor beside his bed. Clay knew who and where the Cadena Heir was. Their very existence was dangerous, a potential point of conflict or unification for a dangerous vampire clan.

Dr. Lastrapes’ number was on that phone. Through Saul’s connections, Clay once had the privilege of attending one of Lastrapes’ secretive lectures on thanatology in Guadalajara. One call to Lastrapes would eventually trickle through Slayer communities across Mexico.

Saul trusted Lastrapes and Clay trusted Saul. The smart play was clear here.

But Clay kept rolling the baseball over in his fingers, phone remaining untouched in arms reach.

“Thanks…thought I was a goner for sure.”

“I guess this is where you kill me?”

“I understand. It’s your job. You kill monsters.”

“You kill problems. And…“I’m a problem.”

“I killed Master Eloy, but I—I”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not your typical vampire.”

Clay reached to touch the bare skin of his right pectoral, where a Cadena Clansman’s bullet would have torn through if Metzli hadn’t taken it in his place.

“I’m trying to be better.”

Clay reached over and clicked his phone on silent. “Glad one of us is,” the Slayer murmured before shifting onto his uninjured side and letting exhaustion claim him

[callmeanxietygirl]

'México' es un vocablo náhuatl del cuál existen alrededor de 70 versiones distintas, siendo la más aceptada "el lugar en el ombligo/centro de la luna":

'Me' que proviene de 'Metzli' (luna)

'Xi' que proviene de 'Xictli' (centro)

'Co' que hace referencia a 'lugar'

Esto en referencia al nombre de la capital mexica llamada México-Tenochtitlan.

Ahora bien, para los nahuas, la pronunciación de ésta palabra es 'Meshíco' y no 'Méjico' como la pronunciamos nosotros actualmente, ¿Pero por qué es distinta?

Resulta que en el siglo XII, durante el reinado de Alfonso X de Castilla, se instituyó la 'Norma Alfonsi' que establecía que el sonido 'sh' se escribiría con la letra 'x', así que para cuando los españoles llegaron al actual México, cuatro siglos después, toda palabra con este sonido se escribía atendiendo dicha regla.

Por lo tanto, los españoles decían 'Meshíco', 'Shochimilco', 'Shóchitl' y así con todas las palabras que hoy se escriben con 'x'.

El problema y la confusión vinieron un siglo después de la llegada de los castellanos, cuando en España comenzó a perder fuerza ésta regla y comenzaron a pronunciar las palabras que llevaban 'x'como si fuera "j" y ya para 1815 se declaró en aquel país, que esa sería la nueva norma a seguir.

Fue hasta el siglo XIX cuando se fundaron las Academias de la lengua de las naciones de América Latina, que se desecharon éstas reglas, pero la población comenzó a imitar la manera de hablar de los españoles.

Ésta tendencia creció a tal grado que para 1992 la RAE declaró que la palabra 'México' podía escribirse con 'x', pero que era preferible escribirla con 'j'.

¿Que te parece? Vaya que los últimos 500 años nos dejamos llevar por las regla europeas.

¿Crees que sería bueno recuperar la pronunciación de los nombres de los lugares en México que se escriben con 'x'?

Por cierto la playera de la imagen es un pequeño recordatorio de todo ello, si quieres adquirirla escribenos un WhatsApp al 442 609 7138 tenemos envíos a todo el mundo 🌎🌽✈️

Texto @xiu_blogger

#500AñosYSeguimosEnPie

#NuncaOlvidesTusRaíces

[gossipsnake]

TIMING: April 19, 2024, immediately before this LOCATION: Airport / Airplane PARTIES: Anita (@gossipsnake), Metzli (@muertarte), & Xóchitl (@vanishingreyes) SUMMARY: Anita, Metzli and Xóchitl make their way to Ireland!

Despite having very little context for why this impromptu trip was occurring, Anita was quite excited to head off to Ireland - not just because of the vague promise of seeing Siobhan naked.  Life had been so hectic over the past few months and she had begun to question the choices she made that had led her to this town, and all of the complications that came with living in Wicked’s Rest. A trip, a chance of scenery and pace, felt like exactly what she needed to refresh. So while it seemed odd when Siobhan had invited her to go visit her hometown but the inherent curiosity to learn more about her strange and beautiful co-worker was really all she needed to say yes. The fact that Xóchitl and Metzli had also been invited was really just icing on the cake. 

The semester was nearing its end and Anita had been able to cash in a few favors from the other professors in her program to cover her classes while she’d be away. She had packed nearly twice as many bags as Metzli, not wanting to be in a situation where she didn’t have the perfect outfit for whatever activities they might be partaking in. It took a bit of rearranging, but there had still been plenty of room in the car to accommodate Xó’s bags. After all, it made more sense to carpool to the airport. 

Knowing that Metzli was feeling a bit uneasy about the idea of going on an airplane, Anita had set the radio to their favorite station for the drive to the airport - turned off. “Have either of you looked up the area where we’re going to much? Seems like more country than city living. Pretty sure the whole state of Maine is bigger than the whole country, though, so I’m sure we’ll have time to see a bit of everything if we want.” 

_ 

“There are going to be too many people.” Metzli rocked idly in the back, grumbling half to themself and half to their companions in the front. Normally they’d have taken the passenger seat, but given they were leaving during the day, the best protection from the sun that they had would be in the back, where the windows had been tinted perfectly for them. They were grateful for that, finding so much relief in the way Anita had been so accommodating. She even went as far as to keep the noise to a minimum, further adding to the comfort they were experiencing. 

It felt important and necessary. Not just because Metzli needed it, but because Xóchitl still didn’t know their true nature. There were enough variables to keep the vampire from relaxing, but because Anita knew them so well, they were rolling their wrists contentedly and sipping on a bag of blood as if it were a capri-sun. Another of Anita’s accommodations. She insisted on the sunglasses too, and Metzli agreed so they could hide their eyes. Though, something told them it gave her some sort of amusement. Probably the snort and a laugh she released. That had to be a clue. 

“How much longer?” They grumbled again, taking a sippy break. “I have been too anxious about flying in this metal bird to do Googling on Ireland. It is not natural to be in the sky in metal.” A shiver raked up their spine and they groaned into a sulk, continuing to sip to alleviate their irritation. 

_ 

She knew that she could use some spontaneity in her life. Not that Xóchitl had been non-spontaneous recently, but still. Going on a trip to Ireland was something she hadn’t done before. Anita and Metzli were coming too, which only added to the fun. She’d immediately agreed when Anita had suggested carpooling, because that just meant less unnecessary complexity. Emilio had agreed to watch over Esperanza, so there was that taken care of, even though Xóchitl would’ve liked to take her, and even though that would’ve helped quell any sort of anxiety she had, Esperanza was better off with Emilio and Teddy and Perro.

“We’re here for you, Metzli. Just concentrate on that.” She offered them a small smile from the front seat. “You can wear headphones on the plane, and you’ll be safe.” Xóchitl knew that she couldn’t technically guarantee that, but even just mentioning it had to be some sort of helpful. Hopefully.

“Yeah,” she nodded at Anita. “I looked it up a tiny bit because I like research, what can I say? But it’s more country-like, but we should go to a city sometime if we get the chance. I just want to see an authentic Irish sheep. Which sounds silly, perhaps, but you’ve got to appreciate the little things. Plus I want to try Bailey’s Irish Creme and also whatever other classic alcohols are there.” Another turn back to Metzli, “it’s wild and not natural, yeah, but it’s also a miracle, according to some. I know it’s how Mama and Manman went to México and also Haiti, and it was more efficient than driving or taking a boat. Besides, I brought snacks.” She tapped her bag. 

_ 

“We’re close. Not much further to the parking area,” Anita reassured Metzli. There were a lot of things that she wanted to say to Metzli, both to poke a bit of fun at them and to try and calm them further. After all, people always said normalcy helped calm people when they were anxious about a new experience, and normalcy for them was Anita poking fun. But she’d have to be careful, not just in the car but for the duration of the trip, with what she said around Xóchitl. Especially since Xó would still be able to understand her if she switched to speaking in Spanish. By this point, having known her for some time, Anita was fairly certain she was as human as humans came. A shame, really, but the reality of the situation. Not only was she exceptionally human but she was unaware of the fact that she was sitting in a car with two fanged beings. 

“It’s not natural to be in a metal carriage driving around but you do that. You’ll see, the plane isn’t anything to be scared about.” Anita did not want to be dismissive about their concerns but she also wanted to show them that this was a normal thing to be doing. “I definitely want to check out some of the city life,” she agreed, turning her attention to Xó, “not sure they’re well known for tequila but I suppose the trip would warrant a departure from my drink of choice to test out these whiskeys they are supposed to be famous for.” 

As they passed a sign noting that the airport was only a few more miles away, Anita relayed the information to Metzli in the back seat. “I’m also excited about exploring the countryside too, though. I don’t think they have a particularly diverse ecosystem but I’m interested to see what kind of insects might be around where we’ll be staying. Wouldn’t that be fun, Met? Going on some nature hikes. We could go at night, too, to get a sense of what kind of nocturnal creepy crawlies they’ve got.” 

_ 

“Yes, but the metal carriage is closer to the ground and is not in the sky!” Metzli softly exclaimed, not really going into a true yell. They knew better than to raise their voice at their friends, especially when they’d done nothing wrong. It was just the anxiety and overall change in routine that put their mood on edge. They sulked, their head sinking in embarrassment. “I am sorry. I will not yell again. New things is hard.” With that clarity and awareness, Metzli clung to it and began to rock themself in their seat, counting up to eight before repeating themself. It was their safe number, and each one leading up to it would get them through the new experience. 

Two of which were sitting up in front, while a few remained at home and a few others resided in Ireland. For now. 

“I appreciate both of you. Almost forget about my phonies.” With another deep breath and a pat to their bag, the bristling at the back of Metzli’s neck began to settle, and taking a final gulp from their pouch relaxed them completely. “Crawlies are good. Will you help me take pictures on my phone? I want to have memories to show Leila.” They paused, thinking of all the things their partner had recommended they do on their first trip outside of home. “She say I should also take photos of myself. Maybe we can do this with the whiskey.” Their head tilted curiously as they searched through their memories with their roommate. “Have I had this, Anita?” If they had, Metzli couldn’t recall it. Then again, they rarely asked questions when Anita put a drink in their hand. 

“Are we there yet?”

_ 

“You don’t have to say sorry, and that wasn’t yelling, promise.” She still felt a need to reassure Metzli at every turn, to make sure, perhaps, that they didn’t retreat into themself again, like they had when they’d first met. But right now wasn't the time to focus on things like that – on things that could be seen as a bad omen, or anything else. Not that Xóchitl was going to voice that particular train of thought right now (or ever, but right now seemed especially necessary).

“New things are very hard, and sometimes a lot of shit. But we’re here, and so it’ll be good.” Xóchitl would’ve winced at how falsely optimistic she sounded, because it wasn’t who she was (not really, though she supposed she was more of a cheerful person than she ever would’ve admitted, which, ick. Maybe.)

Still, she wanted to be there for Anita and Metzli even if she didn’t understand exactly why she was going to Ireland, but a trip wouldn’t be bad, right? It was even something that she’d wanted to do, and since Emilio hadn’t taken her up on her offer to go traveling.

“We’ll take lots of pictures, happy to help you, and to take some of you and for you too. My… boyfriend probably wants photos too.” Xóchitl rolled her shoulders back. “We’re not there yet, but we’ll make it work. Okay? That’s a promise.”

_ 

It wasn’t long after that Anita pulled her car into the long-term parking lot at the airport. They were a bit earlier than she would have been arriving for a flight by herself, but she didn’t want there to be any unexpected stresses that came up. “Okay, Aer Lingus is flying out of Terminal C. I already pre-paid for checked bags, so we just need to drop our stuff off at the main counter before going through security.” She took the keys out of the car after she parked, then looked back at Metzli, “People are going to be very dumb and annoying, okay? Just stand in between me and Xó so dumb people don’t bother you.” 

The airport was expectedly crowded, full of dumb people all pushing forward to get to their gate only to sit around for an hour before their flight even boarded. Anita had been through many airports before, but she knew that the experience was going to be a lot for Metzli, no matter how much she tried to prepare them. As they were loading their items up on the security belt, the woman behind Anita kept trying to push forward and shove her in the middle of their group. “What time is your flight?” She asked, somewhat innocuously to the woman after her second attempt to squeeze in. “It’s at 3,” the woman huffed back in response. 

Anita smirked, intentionally taking a long time to take off her shoes so Metzli and Xó could go through security ahead of her. “That’s fantastic. Sounds like you have plenty of time to calm your ass down, stop being a maldito pendejo, and still get to your flight with time to spare.” The group managed to get to their gate without incident, however, their journey was just getting started. 

_ 

Anita was perfect to have around when there were crowds involved. She had an intimidating energy that parted people to the side without her needing to speak. Although, she always did take the opportunity to impart a little vicious wisdom on some people. It made Metzli feel seen and taken care of, like they finally knew what family meant. What it felt like. 

They hardly minded the way the cool lights overhead buzzed and thrummed when they were required to take off the phonies for security. It felt pretty easy, for the most part. Their fake passport worked and Metzli had mentally prepared to manipulate the crew to let them through, but they were fortunate enough to not need that ability. Sometimes using it was inevitable, they knew that. It just felt better to not have the need to control people. They knew what it felt like to have everything taken. All too well, in fact.

“Thank you.” Quickly, Metzli took their bag and placed the phonies back on their head. Everything muffled instantly and a sense of calm surrounded them with warmth. “One…two…three…four…” Metzli counted quietly to themself, absentmindedly reaching for Anita’s hand once she stood next to them. Their thumb massaged the back of her hand, a pattern that kept in time with their counting. It kept them peaceful, from biting anything. Well, besides the inside of their cheek.

_ 

Anita had a good point about people being very dumb and annoying – there certainly seemed to be a higher concentration of that in airports. If she could help Metzli not have to deal with that as much, then that alone would be a win itself. Finding the gate wasn’t too bad either – and not that Xóchitl believed in good luck signs, not really (so much of her life would be different if those were real), but the three of them moving smoothly through the airport and finding their gate was seemingly seamless, and she’d take that win.

“Do either of you want drinks or snacks? I brought some, but figured we could always get more if we want. It’s overpriced but sometimes chips from airports taste even better than ones from the store.” Xóchitl shrugged. Thankfully, they’d be called in one of the first groups, if not the first group, which would undoubtedly make all of this easier. The sooner she could get a glass of wine, the better.

Without missing a beat after Metzli grabbed her hand, Anita reached over and linked her free arm in with Xóchitl’s as the group made their way to the gate. After finding the most secluded seating area possible near their gate, which was still not all that secluded, she pulled out her phone to see when their boarding time was. “Have you ever known me to say no to a drink?” She teased with a grin, “That’s one of the best parts about airports, if you ask me, there is almost always an open bar somewhere.” 

_ 

“They should be calling our group to board in less than thirty minutes.” Anita almost noted that was the expected time provided there were no unforeseen delays, given how often those seemed to happen during air travel. But it seemed like an unnecessary possibility to speak out into the universe. “If you two want to hold down the fort here, I’ll go get us all a round of mezcal?” It was a question mainly to Metzli, as Anita wasn’t sure if they would want a drink or not. She had packed a few travel sized bottles of blood for them since it wasn’t exactly a short flight, and was thrilled that they didn’t raise any suspicions going through security. Then she turned to Xó, with a warm smile, “And whatever flavor of deliciously overpriced chips your heart desires.” 

After getting everyone’s orders in, Anita went off to the nearest bar. Which was within spitting distance, practically. It didn’t take long for her to return with several overpriced libations, a few salty treats, and a few sweet ones. That was what humans did, wasn’t it? Bought way too many snacks for a trip that was undoubtedly going to provide them with some more snacks? 

_ 

There was no rejection Metzli’s part. In fact, when Anita let go and went on her search, they went on their own. A single round of mezcal wasn’t going to be enough for them and their dead body. They needed far more than most to feel any of alcohol’s influence, and so they found themself at the same bar Anita found. Only, they were across the way where she couldn’t see them. 

“Five tequilas in those little glasses.” They tapped the bar, “Please.” In a matter of seconds, they were placed in front of them, and they drank them in rapid succession. “And four more, please.” The bartender gave Metzli a look, and they stiffened. “They are for my friends.” A nod. “Here.” With four bills on the table, the bartender shrugged and gave Metzli what they requested on a platter. “Keep change. Goodbye.” They looked more than happy at the money, and without saying another word, the vampire rejoined their friends. 

“These are for me.” The platter was placed on the table with a light clack, and they realized three shots between two people was uneven. With a grumble, they sacrificed one of theirs so Anita and Xóchitl could each have two. “Better.” Metzli smiled awkwardly and downed their drinks. “And more better.” There was hardly a burn on the last swallow, but it was enough to make them shift in their seat. 

“Metzli Bernal, to the front desk.” 

Metzli stiffened and lit up, realizing they were about to board first after the arrangements Anita made for their peculiar needs. “I get to sit at the window.” They chuckled, disappearing with their things. 

_ 

Anita and Metzli both seemed immediately agreeable to the suggestion of alcohol, which, win. Not that Xóchitl had had any sort of real doubt about whether or not they’d agree, but it was still good. Maybe a drink (or a few) would get her brain back to actually working, rather than whatever nonsense was going on now. Lack of general eloquence, lack of understanding about just what on earth was going on. But she liked doing things without thinking about consequences, and doing things with friends was even more fun. It brought her back to college, and grad school, even. Not always in the best of ways (but that wasn’t the point right now, was it?), but now it could be in the best of ways. 

Or in the goodest of ways. Which wasn’t a word, but again, not the point.

While Anita and Metzli went off on their ways, Xóchitl took a swig of a cap of alcohol she’d somehow managed to get through TSA. Not that things like that were hard, not for her, though she figured some of that had to do with projecting an air of confidence. That much she was quite expert at. It wasn’t self-centered if it was true, right?

Soon enough, both of her friends returned, and both with a few drinks. “I’m buying us a round or three of something when we get there.” She grabbed one of the drinks and the bag of chips from Anita, offering the both of them a small shrug. Metzli was called to the front desk, and Xóchitl felt her stomach clench for a moment, wondering if they were going to get in some sort of trouble (though she was ready to tell off anybody who tried to fuck with Metzli), but it turned out that they’d gotten a window seat. “You’ll love that. You can see how the world looks from way up high.” She offered them a kind smile. “Also you can cozy against the side of the plane, which makes relaxing easier. At least that’s my personal feeling on it.”

_ 

Anita was always quite amused when Metzli managed to surprise her. And surprised she was to see them coming back with a small tray full of tequila shots at the same time that she was returning from her own supply run. It was like they had read her mind. “Here’s to Siobhan, for bringing us all together for this strange adventure.” Anita saluted in Spanish before taking her first shot of tequila. It wasn’t Casa Dragones, but it wasn’t half bad. “And here is to all of the great Irish liquor I’m sure we will discover.” She said as she raised up the second shot, finishing it off just as the attendants called for Metzli. 

If they were being called off to board that meant that the first class call wasn’t far behind. Sure enough, shortly after finishing up the rest of the drinks and reorganizing her bag a bit, the announcement rang out “We now welcome our passengers traveling in first class to board.” Anita grinned over at Xóchitl, “Vamos, mamacita.” 

First class on a transcontinental flight was truly a luxurious experience. Separated from the main cabin by a hallway not just a flimsy little shower curtain. Not that it was the status that Anita really cared about, though. Sure, that was nice, but it was the comforts and small luxuries that made the expense worthwhile. “Miss me?” She teased once they ruined with Metzli in the cabin. After stowing her bags, she slid into the aisle seat and let out a soft sigh of contentment before reaching over and pointing at the screen in front of Metzli’s seat. “This can show you an overview of our flight path, can play music or movies, or you can just turn it off.” Then she turned across the aisle where Xó’s seat was. “This whole thing was so last minute I forgot to even ask, how do you and Siobhan know each other?” 

It didn’t take long for the rest of the first class passengers to fill in and the attendant came around to offer everyone a complimentary glass of champagne, which Anita finished rather quickly. After all, she was on vacation. 

_ 

Being the first person on a flight was interesting, especially when you had only seen pictures of what the inside of a plane looked like. It was only slightly overwhelming, and Metzli was surprised to find that even at their height, their area was spacious. “Oh…” They sat down and looked through the tiny window, anxious to see how the wings would fly in the sky. There was so much to touch and see. Maybe a bit too much for their liking. But Metzli thought it better to wait until Anita arrived, which felt like forever. Though, that was likely the anxiety altering their perception.

“Not really.” They replied, legs bouncing anxiously. “Will they make me sit all the way back? I…I do not like how it feels.” Metzli’s posture was stiffer than usual as they strained to avoid the seat. They could feel themself blinking more than necessary as they battled with how the lights seemed to grow brighter and the amount of people shuffling in produced more noise. With a swallow, the ringing in their ears reached a head, and they took a breath to just barely catch what Anita was saying about the small screen in front of them. 

“Okay.” They nodded, swallowing once more as the flight attendant’s appearance startled them into focus. “Thank you.” Tentatively, Metzli took the plastic flute and held it firmly for a moment to gather their bearings before downing the champagne. Oh. It was the pointy liquid they didn’t like very much. They tried not to frown, to hide their discomfort and their cough, but with their leg advertising how they truly felt, it was almost impossible to get a word to not shake from their mouth. “I told you h-how we meet already. We-we had sex.”

_ 

She couldn’t help but throw a wink at Anita. It was all in good fun, and it was how the two of them worked after all, wasn’t it? She wanted to check on Metzli, anyhow, to make sure they’d done alright boarding and that nobody else who’d gotten on the plane already was giving them trouble. Which, thankfully, nobody seemed to be. Not that she’d expected anybody to be giving them a hard time, but it was another box ticked in the ‘things are going smoothly’ column. A column that Xóchitl realized she was likely relying on way too much. That didn’t mean she was going to stop. She relied on tequila too much sometimes, but she certainly hadn’t given that up (nor did she intend to).

“You can sit however you wish. The only rules planes have is about wearing your seatbelt, but everything else? You can take at your own pace.” She hoped that was comforting. She didn’t know if it was. Xóchitl didn’t consider herself a comforting person, but she also knew that there were quite a few people (maybe a handful, maybe less, maybe more) who might’ve disagreed with her on that.

Anita was now asking her how she and Siobhan knew each other, and Metzli had jumped in with an answer and so Xóchitl figured why not? “I also slept with her. Well, technically my neighbor tried to get us to hang out so she’d annoy me, but that didn’t happen. You and her work together, right?”

_ 

“I wasn’t asking you,” Anita clarified with only a slight twinge of annoyance, refusing to let her face show how that was amplified by Xóchitl’s response. Apparently Anita was the only one whom Sibohan thought she was too good to sleep with. Maybe this trip would change that. “Yes, we’re both professors. We also committed arson together once.” The comment slipped out, more of a jab to try and make herself feel a bit better since she doubted either of them had burned down a nightclub with Siobhan before. But then she remembered that Xóchitl was a human and that humans frowned on arson. “Kidding,” she added in with a bright grin and a laugh. 

Once all of the passengers were boarded, the attendants began their safety demonstrations. The bright lights, the loud crackling overhead announcements, and the annoying dinging bells that preceded them, it was all very apparent that it was overwhelming for Metzli. Sometimes Anita didn’t know where the line was between being helpful and being overbearing and never wanted to inadvertently make things worse. 

Anita reached down into the bag that was tucked underneath the seat in front of her and pulled out a small pouch that had a black-out eye mask, ear plugs, and some suspicious looking clearly homemade red “candies.” Whatever Metzli wanted to do with the materials was up to them. Not long after the safety demonstration ended, the plane started to taxi away from the gate and down the runway. The stiff air was mixed with sweat and people trying to mask that sweat with too much perfume. Anita adjusted herself more comfortably into the seat as the captain announced that they were about to begin their take-off. 

Within an instant the noise in the cabin nearly doubled as the jet engines prepared themselves to carry the aircraft up into the sky. Anita thought about offering her hand for Metzli to hold onto but immediately thought better of it, intentionally or not they could break every tiny bone with just one squeeze. The wheels began to turn and the plane took off down the runway, the rumble shaking and jostling everyone on board slightly. After a few moments of that, the plane lifted off the ground and there was that strange pressurized sensation that was only felt when one was in an active fight against the laws of gravity. She looked over at Metzli, knowing there wasn’t anything more than what she had already done to help them through these moments of discomfort. 

_ 

The plane rumbled and whirred, sending Metzli’s reflexes into attack mode. Even Anita’s attempts at being a good friend went missed as the sounds made their body tense. Muscle to muscle, from the shoulders and to their feet, everything flexed. With a swallow, a pitiful sound escaped Metzli’s throat and an even louder sound scraped on their right. 

Trembling, they rose their fist to find that the armrest had been twisted and bent away from its place. “Oh…oh no.” The plane jumped forward, jostling the armrest from Metzli’s grasp and sending it to the floor. They looked to Anita and then to the floor, and back to her again. Well, that was a problem for later, they thought, feeling the metal carriage ascending into the sky.

_ 

“Well, so long as you were both safe,” Xóchitl shrugged. Not that she especially approved of arson, but she also wasn’t about to fight Anita about it. It had already been done, and the cops sucked and so who exactly was she even going to report it to?

Besides, Metzli seemed to be more in trouble and the armrest of their chair disconnected from the rest of the chair, all of a sudden, and that was both confusing and not something Xóchitl could bring herself to focus on too much right then and there. “We’re here for you, okay?” She whispered across the aisle to Metzli, giving a nod to Anita. “We’ll be there before you know it.”

[muertarte]

[[ No official delivery is made of a package wrapped neatly in dark green paper, with swirling patterns of holly and ivy strewn about it, and tied with a simple red ribbon. It sits, as if it has always been there, on Metzli’s bed. Atop the package is a small card that simply reads ’Te amo para siempre.’ ]]

[[ Within the package, wrapped in tissue paper with the utmost care, is a Christmas stocking. It is primarily a deep red fabric, with details in green and gold. The whole thing is hand made, with embroidered detailing all over it. There are some simple, festive patterns- bits of holly and snowflake patterns- not overwhelming, but just right. But if one looks the right way, there are also crescent moons and stars hidden in the pattern. Lastly, perhaps most importantly, at the top of the stocking, embroidered so carefully it looks like it’s all one piece, is Metzli’s name.]]

__

Metzli walks up to the package curiously, fingers rubbing harshly against themselves until they see that it’s a present from Leila. They relax and sit on the bed to unwrap it to find what’s inside. Their hands hover over the stocking for a few beats before they realize what it is and take it out carefully. Metzli has never had a stocking and tears well in their eyes. They graze the embroidery and can tell it was done with love. Holding it close to their chest, Metzli smiles as tears roll down their cheeks.

[d0ntpray4me]

OS QUATRO PRÍNCIPES COROADOS DO INFERNO

SATÃ - (hebreu) adversário, opositor, acusador, Senhor do Fogo, o inferno, o sul

LÚCIFER - (romano) o condutor de luz, iluminação, o ar, a estrela da manhã, o este 

BELIAL - (hebreu) sem mestre, base da terra, independência, o norte

LEVIATÃ - (hebreu) a serpente fora de suas profundezas, o mar, o oeste

OS NOMES INFERNAIS

Abaddon - (hebreu) o destruidor

Adramelech - demônio sumeriano.

Ahpuch - demônio maia.

Ahriman - demônio mazdeano

Amon - deus egípcio da vida e reprodução, com cabeça de carneiro

Apollyon - sinônimo grego para Satã, o arquidemonio.

Asmodeus - demônio hebreu da sensualidade e luxuria,  originalmente "criatura do julgamento".

Astaroth - deusa fenícia da lascívia, equivalente da Ishtar babilônica.

Azazel - (hebreu) instruiu os homens a criarem armas de guerra, introduziu os cosméticos.

Baalberith - senhor canaanita da Convenção, que se tornou mais tarde um demônio.

Balaam - demônio grego da avareza e cobiça.

Baphomet - adorado pelos Templários como símbolo de Satã.

Bast - deusa egípcia do prazer representada pelo gato.

Beelzebuth - (hebreu) senhor das moscas, tomada do simbolismo do escaravelho.

Behemoth - personificação hebraica de Satã na forma de um elefante.

Beherit - nome sírio para Satã.

Bile - deus celta do inferno.

Chemosh - deus nacional de Moabites, mais tarde um demônio.

Cimeries - monta um cavalo negro e rege a África.

Coyote - demônio do índio americano.

Dagon - demônio filisteu vingativo do mar.

Damballa - deusa serpente do Vodu.

Demogorgon - nome grego para demônio, diz-se  que não seria conhecido pelos mortais.

Diabolus - (grego) "fluindo para baixo".

Dracula - nome romeno para demônio.

Emma-O - regente japonês do inferno.

Euronymous - príncipe grego da morte.

Fenriz - filho de Loki, descrito como um lobo.

Gorgo - diminutivo de Demogorgon, nome grego para demônio.

Haborym - sinônimo grego para Satã.

Hécate - deusa grega do mundo subterrâneo e feitiçaria.

Ishtar - deusa babilônica da fertilidade.

Kali - (hindu) filha de Shiva, alta sacerdotisa de Thuggees.

Lilith - demônio feminino hebraico, primeira mulher de Adão que lhe ensinou as cordas.

Loki - demônio teutonico.

Mammon - deus aramaico da riqueza e do lucro. Mania - deusa etrusca do inferno.

Mantus - deus etrusco do inferno.

Marduk - deus da cidade de Babilônia.

Mastema - sinônimo hebreu para Satã.

Melek Taus - demônio yesidi.

Mephistopheles - (grego) quem evita luz, Faustus.

Metzli - deusa azteca da noite.

Mictian - deus azteca da morte.

Midgard - filho de Loki, descrito como uma serpente.

Milcom - demônio amonita.

Moloch - demônio fenício e canaanita.

Mormo - (grego) rei dos Ghouls, consorte de Hécate.

Naamah - demônio feminino grego da sedução.

Nergal - deus babilônico do Hades.

Nihasa - demônio do índio americano.

Nija - deus polaco do mundo subterrâneo.

O-Yama - nome japonês para Satã.

Pan - deus grego da luxuria, depois relegado ao demonismo.

Pluto - deus grego do mundo subterrâneo.

Prosérpina - rainha grega do mundo subterrâneo.

Pwcca - nome gales para Satã.

Rimmon - demônio sírio adorado em Damasco.

Sabazios - demônio frigio, identificado com Dyonisus, adorado como serpente.

Saitan - equivalente enoquiano de Satã.

Sammael - (hebreu) "Veneno de Deus".

Samnu - demônio da Ásia Central.

Sedit - demônio do índio americano.

Sekhmet - deusa egípcia da vingança.

Set - demônio egípcio.

Shaitan - nome árabe para Satã.

Shiva - o destruidor.

Supay - deus inca do mundo subterrâneo.

T'an-mo - contraparte chinesa para demônio, cobiça, desejo.

Tchort - nome russo para Satã, "Deus Negro".

Tezcatlipoca - nome azteca do inferno.

Thamuz - deus sumeriano que mais tarde foi relegado ao demonismo.

Thoth - deus egípcio da magia.

Tunrida - demônio feminino escandinavo.

Typhon - personificação grega de Satã.

Yaotzin - deus azteca do inferno.

Yen-lo-Wang - regente chinês do inferno.

[oh-rosenrot]

Metzli

Nada melhor para inaugurar a #RPGbyMars do que com a minha queridinha e a qual eu considero a minha primeira personagem de verdade.

FICHA

Sistema: Tormenta20

Lvl: 2

Nome: Metzli

Raça: Suraggel

Classe: Clérigo

Origem: Amnésico

RESUMO (lore)

• Metzli era doce e encadora, amada por todos habitantes da vila em que ela morava, com seu poder de luz e escuridão mantinha eles seguros. Iluminando para que eles podessem ver e escurecendo caso precisasse de camuflagem.

• Por antiga briga de seus pais ela foi capturada da vila, levada a um lugar distante torturada de várias formas e jeitos, levando-a para morte depois de uns dias.

• No meio daquelas torturas seu corpo foi dominado pela agonia. Agonia foi uma energia para que sua alma se dividisse em duas, trazendo seus sentimentos e sensações para ambas as partes. Naquele momento é como se Metzli se tornasse duas pessoas, completamente distintas uma da outra, enquanto o lado que ficou com seu poder da escuridão sentia ódio e sede por vingança pelo o que fizeram com ela, seu lado que ficou com o poder de luz ficou com os traumas, as insegurança, e serenidade.

• Cada alma após a separação seguiu um por um lado, a busca de um Deus para que pudesse de volta mesmo que em outro corpo voltar a vida e assim foi feito.

• Depois de meditação e alguns fazeres para aqueles deuses eles puderam "reencarnar" em alguém, porém naquele momento o corpo de metzli já estava inutilizável. Portanto foram caçar outro corpo para trazer novamente Metzli "a vida"

• Acharam um corpo de uma menina que recém tinha morrido e já não possuía alma.

• As almas "trabalhando" em harmonia sem alterações de humor cria o ponto neutro, o ponto neutro é a Metzli, ela está viva novamente.

• O corpo com alma volta a vida portanto o processo da decomposição é interrompida.

(Fonte: vozes da minha cabeça)

Funfact: Metzli é uma variação do nome Metztli que é o nome de um deus na mitologia asteca, que virou a deusa da lua. Lua, satélite natural da terra que possui suas "fases" conforme a luz do sol e afins. De qualquer forma é que a lua tendo suas fases tem ligação com a Metzli com seu distúrbio de personalidade. É isso =D

Ps: a imagem contém tudo que o que engloba Metzli, consegue identificar algo?

[amazonomachia]

#Kurumada la dibujó para #NextDimension Yo la adopté para una historia, y le di un nombre: Metzli de Crotalus.