#sorrow of sophia

[massgrav]

The grandeur of stillness

And all of her sadness

—

Will I ever tire of him? Unlikely

[fierysword]

Source: Sophia: Goddess of Wisdom, Bride of God by Caitlin Matthews

[thenighteternal]

Sophia - The Eternal Sorrow

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

Is Taylor Swift trying to Out someone? or is she just sensationalizing Bisexuality in order to make herself into more of the poor, misbegotten lost lover?

Despite this being one of the more clunky, songs- the message is clear as day:

Swift writes, "Hands in the hair of somebody in darkness/ Named Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus/ And I just watched it happen/As the decade would play us for fools /And you saw my bones out with somebody new/ Who seemed like he would've bullied you in school/ And you just watched it happen" (Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus).

Let's try to parse out what the hell she's trying to say. The song begins with her daydreaming about the lost lover moving on with.... several different names: female, ambiguously female, or outrightly male. Why throw in that final, masculine name? She is clearly saying that her last lover was bisexual. Now, I'm not in the business of speculating on the sexuality of others, however it seems that Swift has no problem whatsoever with sending her perpetually clue-finding fake Sherlockian fans to do her speculation dirty work.

I have no doubt she means for this song to start a rumor about whichever ex.

The next few lines make this even more abundantly clear, with the phrase "the decade would play us for fools" meaning to connect her real-life long-term relationship to the concept of both a "decade" and "fools."

She continues, "And you saw my bones out with somebody new/ who seemed like he would've bullied you in school. Swift could be saying that she's the one moving on with somebody new "who seems like he would have bullied him in school." Thus, he (the ex) is just watching it happen as the person who would have been bullied by Swift new man. It's such a weird line, is she implying that she will always be just bones? even in a new relationship? (please, Swift seek help).

Afterall, she is currently dating a football bro who would have for sure bullied people in school, especially shy music /drama-kids like any of her actor Ex's. Swift is also very much attached to picturing them through the lens of high school era imagery (as shown in "So High School).

So, why did she include a jab at bisexuality in the same song in which she states she's dating a high school bully? Clearly, Swift is outlining some type of fantastical reality in which she is the lover lost to time, always "wondering" as she mentions later in the song, while her bisexual ex is out there blowing through people. So, she's still the sad girl/good girl that is moving on, only with one guy. In this case, she is literally on the side of the bully, which is what we are supposed to root for as she denigrates her bisexual ex? It's such a weird premise for a song, that trying to write out a coherent interpretation is barley possible.

It sensationalizes bisexuality by using it to prop up her own sorrow at someone moving on, while it also typifying stereotypes of bisexual people as a bit... (for lack of a better word) slutty. There is no reason to list that many names unless she wants people to think he will move on with all those people, or a few of them, or one of them. The implication is clear, however, that she is using bisexuality as a prop in her own fantasy about how her ex, and her, would move on to their own respective people.

The high school bully bit remains...um... weird.

Anyway, someone please tell Taylor Swift to not rely on stereotypes of bisexuality as a prop for her own melodramatic fantasy about how she thinks her ex will move on.

It's deeply uncomfortable.

Also, Swift, you sound like a woman that peaked in High School.

[msrhaxoz]

The theory about Lies of P endings and why Pinocchio becomes alive only in Rise of P ending

SPOILERS WARNING Hello everyone! This post is my first experience with writing a post, because I usually post drawings. But since I have no one to share the happiness of the game with (and I reeeally liked this game) I decided to publish my thoughts about the endings of the game, specifically Rise of P and Real boy. So, let's get started!

In the middle of the game, the player finds a statue of a saint that can reset the player's level. And this statue is an obvious reference to Pieta mourning the death of Christ. The Madonna della Pietà - is a marble sculpture of Jesus and Mary at Mount Golgotha representing the "Sixth Sorrow" of the Blessed Virgin Mary by Michelangelo Buonarroti. I want to talk a little bit about the appearance of the pieta in the game. The very first thing we can notice is that the statue of the saint is holding a puppet. The original interpretation of the statue is that the Virgin Mary grieves over the death of her son, looking at his ribs and withered hands. The interpretation in the game is very similar to the idea of the statue of Pieta, but it is interesting that instead of a human corpse, she holds a puppet.. which, perhaps, can also be interpreted as a corpse.

And at the end, when Sophia becomes a puppet, discarding the human body, there is again a parallel with the statue of Mary, except for its complete opposite - the unalive maiden holds a living person in her hands, and holds it with her left hand. Why alive? Let's return to the interpretation of Michelangelo's statue - the Virgin Mary mourns the death of her son. The statue has a contrasting image between a living and non-living body, including many folds of fabric on Mary's body, creating a contrast with the cold dead body. With the right hand, nursing mothers usually hold babies when feeding, in Michelangelo's statue, this is the contrast between an infant and an adult son. Maria's left hand is free, symbolizing the senselessness of killing her son. But the statue in the game has a saint holding a mechanical heart.

Sophia is holding a boy with the same hand, whose heart is filled with a human soul, which means that he is alive. It's hard for me to say that Carlo is becoming alive. After all, despite the fact that the player can fulfill all the conditions for obtaining the Rise of P ending, Geppetto can still be given the heart of the main character. Moreover, if you follow the path of truth and do not give Sophia peace, giving your heart to Geppetto will be the only possible ending. Geppetto only made another puppet, but more insensitive and cruel (The nameless puppet was the first puppet made by the old man that was mounted with a P-Organ. Its Ergo efficiency was not just unremarkable, it was destructive; thus the nameless puppet was not chosen for the boy's body and sealed away.)

And I want to add that Carlo was probably resentful by his father. It is unlikely that he would be happy with such a family reunion. That's all! I am open to criticizing the theory, as well as to complementing your thoughts.

[achristopaganbreviary]

alternative Hail Mary prayers

alternative prayers to pray on the rosary beads

Hail Lady of Roses, blessed be your many names. Shelter us beneath your starry mantle, O Mother of the world, and open our hearts. Queen of the cosmos, portal of life and death, guide us throughout the cycle of our being. Amen.

Hail Mary, Lady of deep soil, all life is within you. Blessed be your fruitful bounty, and blessed be our ancestral dead underfoot. Black Madonna, Mother of the earth, pray for us now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Hail Guadalupe, maize mother, the serpent is with thee. Blessed is your starry mantle, and blessed is the moon beneath your feet. Lady of roses, radiant as the sun, pray for us now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Black Madonna, earth mother, alchemize our sorrows. Root us in deep ancestral soil, that we may know the eternal source of peace within us.

Hail Sophia, source of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed are your many names, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Wisdom. Holy Spirit, Mother and God, be with us, your children, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Oh Queen of Heaven, Star of the Sea, Gate of Dawn, we fly to thee. Moon-bright Mother, Mystical Rose, stay with us now and at life's close.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.105 Cracks on a frozen lake

Once again, Sophia was up before me, making breakfast. If that was our new normal, I could get used to it very quickly. It's not that I tired of cooking every meal, but I loved seeing her follow through with all her plans recently. I didn't doubt she would, but sims often made promises to change their lives and failed to follow through. Hell, I couldn't even follow through with waking up early to cook breakfast when she was working. She was such an inspiration, always pushing me to be better without even realizing it.

Before I could sit down to eat my fruit salad and ask how she was, she began rambling like sims did when they got nervous. She jumped from subject to subject, trying not to let any silence seep through. I tried my best to keep up for her sake, knowing she wanted to think about anything other than what went on in her body. She was so animated, like a toddler on a sugar high, and initially I sympathized with her. But after a while, I recognized I needed a distraction too. We were both a little on edge about the doctor's appointment in a few hours. I don't know how we got any sleep last night with that on the brain.

Sophia talked and talked and talked until she couldn't take it anymore.

"I sound crazy," she said. "Do I sound crazy? I'm gonna wash my hair."

She dashed to the bathroom before I could even offer a rebuttal. The bathroom door clicked behind her, and the faucet squeaked as she turned on the water. A pang of sadness tugged at my heart as I thought of what she must feel in there. Should I go with her? Did she need to be alone? Wouldn't it be better if we distracted each other? The sound of the shower water hypnotized me for a while before realizing I too needed to busy myself until to leave, so I tended to the money tree and bathed the dogs.

Silence filled the air like a dense fog on our way back home. The doctor's confirmation left our emotions in ruins. She diagnosed Sophia with low fertility, saying it would be extremely hard to get pregnant but not impossible. We just needed time Sophia didn't have. I tried to take comfort in the slight possibility, but the reality of it tried to crush the remnant of hope I had left. Sophia buried herself under the covers as soon as we arrived at home. Her muffled sobs echoed through the house, and an avalanche of sorrow tried to overtake me. I wanted to console her, to cradle her in my arms and reassure her, but I felt lost and couldn't find the words because I was also broken. She probably needed the space anyway, so I left her alone and tried to sort myself out.

[writing-with-sophia]

Hey, sophia,

Can horror stories have a happy ending?

Can horror stories have a happy ending?

Your question makes me want to write an essay lol.

Can horror stories have a happy ending? This is a very controversial topic.

In my opinion, the answer is yes. There are various famous horror works with a relatively happy ending, such as The Amityville Horror, The Haunting of Hill House, The Shining, Scream, and The Exorcist. The protagonists escape more-or-less unscathed, but could you really call them happy?

Some horror manages to portray the next step for the survivors as one of growth and rebuilding, calling on the same inner strength that allowed them to survive the events of their story. In other cases, the defeat of a powerful evil becomes a source of hope, with the antagonist's downfall being savored. However, these endings often carry a mix of both joy and sorrow, as they are colored by the darkness and horrors the protagonists had to confront.

[massgrav]

As life cries out in torment You are the everlasting sun

—

Uldred is all pointy ends and sharp angles, but Jowan is made of memory foam so it's no real problem

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 15

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: After the incident at the barn, the group is left in a state of sorrow and disrepair. Iris takes it upon herself to fix it, though not without a little trouble. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; group conflict, grieving family members, car accident, injuries sustained in car accident, no deer were harmed in the making of this chapter, daryl is pissed, alpha male bullshit and it shows

Chapter 15 - Saviour

Carl ran back to the house, Beth sobbing in Jimmy’s arms. She pulled from her boyfriend, collapsing down to her knees at her mother’s side.

“Ma…” She whispered, pushing another body from her mother’s corpse and turning her to face the sky. Beth screamed as the walker snarled, grabbing and yanking at her hair. Iris’s reflexes acted before she could think, and the knife whispered past her fingers and into the walker’s skull. Beth sobbed as she scurried back in the dirt, Jimmy and Patricia pulling her away. Iris stepped forward, pulling the knife from its skull.

The Greene family started the slow walk back to their house, not bothering with any words.

“We’ve been out, combing these woods for how long, and she was in there all along?” Shane asked, walking after them. Rick jogged to catch up, to keep him behind, but Shane was nothing if not a complete pain in the ass. “You knew!”

“Leave us alone!” Maggie yelled.

“Shane, just stop, man.” Glenn called.

“Get your hands off me.” Shane hissed, ripping from Rick’s grip. “You knew and you kept it from us!”

“I— I didn’t know.” Hershel croaked.

“That’s bullshit. I think y’all knew.”

“We didn’t know!” Maggie insisted.

“Why was she there?” Shane asked, following them all the way to the porch. Hershel turned around while the others went inside.

“Otis put those people in the barn. Maybe he found her and put her in there before he was killed.” Hershel offered.

“You expect me to believe that? What do I look like, an idiot?” Shane asked. Iris couldn’t handle it, turning around and walking back to the camp. She grabbed a bottle of water, downing the whole thing in one go. She looked down, seeing her knife in her hand, still dripping with brown, rotten blood. She wiped it on the grass before placing it back in it’s sheath.

She just kept thinking about the noise. All those gunshots. They’d have drawn every walker out for miles. Iris glanced over, seeing Andrea covering Sophia’s body with a blanket. She turned back, making for the RV, where Carol was sitting at the table by herself. Iris knocked before she went in, Carol glancing to her before facing out the window again. She took that as permission to come in, sitting herself down across the table, following her gaze. 

After a few hours, Daryl came and knocked on the door, looking up at Iris. She pressed her lips together.

“They’re ready.” He said softly. Carol shook her head just slightly. “C’mon.”

“Why?” She murmured, looking up at Iris.

“‘Cause that’s your little girl.” Daryl replied. She shook her head firmly this time.

“That’s not my little girl. That’s some other… thing.” She hissed. There was a long beat of silence. “My Sophia was alone in the woods. All this time, I thought… she didn’t cry herself to sleep. She didn’t go hungry. She didn’t try to find her way back. Sophia… Sophia died a long time ago.”

Daryl didn’t like that answer. He exhaled sharply through his nose and went back outside. After a few minutes, Iris extended her hand across the table, palm up. And after a few more minutes, what felt like an eternity, Carol took it.

-

When it was time to say goodbye, after they all had been buried, Carol sat outside in a field, sitting in front of the blooms of a Cherokee Rose. Iris joined the others and said goodbye, even though she and Sophia had never spoken. Daryl was taking it particularly hard.

Dale, Andrea, and T-Dog started to load the other walker’s bodies into the bed of Jimmy’s truck, to be taken to be burned. Daryl had disappeared, but Iris spotted him against the ruins of an old stone building, whittling sticks. But the world moved on, and so must they.

“Iris? Iris?” Lori called, running out of the farmhouse. Iris looked up from cleaning her knives. “Beth’s in some kind of catatonic shock. We need Hershel.”

“He’s gone?” Iris asked, frowning.

“Rick and Glenn went to look for him. I… would you go into town to bring them back? Please?” Lori pleaded. Iris sighed, looking over at Daryl and his angry whittling. It would be stupid to go alone, and most everyone was otherwise occupied. And there was no way she’d venture over to ask Shane.

“Alright.” She breathed. Lori thanked her profusely, running back inside the house to check on Beth. Iris huffed as she pulled herself to her feet, trudging across the field toward Daryl.

“Daryl?” She called. He grunted and she made a face, walking closer. “You sharpening your pitchforks?”

“What?” He asked sharply.

“I’m going into town to get Rick, Glenn and Hershel. Apparently Beth’s in some kind of catatonic state.” She explained. He grunted again. Iris huffed. “Will you come with me?” She asked pointedly.

“The bitch went window shopping. If Lori wants him she should go fetch him herself. We got better things to do.” He grumbled.

“Oh, do we?” Iris scoffed. “I don’t. We’ve been in decision limbo for the past week or so. Nobody’s doing anything about anything, and I’m tired of it.”

“Listen to me, Iris, we were out looking for that little girl every single day. I took a bullet and an arrow in the process. Don’t you tell me I’m not doing nothing. You want to kill yourself for someone else, have a nice ride. I’m done looking for people.” He hissed. Iris stuck her tongue in her cheek, trying to keep herself from chewing him out and making him angrier.

“Lori’s pregnant, Daryl. She can’t go looking for him in case something happens.” She explained lowly.

“So that means I should? Olive Oyl should learn to do something for herself once in a while. Just ‘cause she’s pregnant don’t mean her life’s worth more than anyone else’s.” Iris snorted at the nickname.

“Don’t do this, please? We’ve lost enough people, Daryl, we don’t need to lose you—“

“That ain’t my problem neither.” He snapped. “Lookin’ after you ain’t my responsibility.”

“Cute.” She stated simply, spinning on her heel to head back to the camp and gather her things. Dangerous or not, she’d find them. Hell, she’d been living on her own in Atlanta for months. If Daryl didn’t want to help her, that’s fine. She’d do it her damn self.

Iris found a car a little ways down the road and hot-wired it, happy to see enough gas to get her from town and back without trouble. She had a map on her, eyes flicking upward every so often to keep her from doing something stupid. Yet when she was about halfway there, a deer jumped out into the road anyways. She inhaled sharply in surprise, jerking the wheel to the side in order not to hit it. 

The car spun off of the road and flipped, landing upside down with a loud crunch.

-

Iris awoke again in the dark, to the sound of someone scratching at the car door. She opened one eye, wincing at the throbbing pain in her skull. She was incredibly irritated. At the car wreck, sure, but more-so at the fact that now she’d have to tell Daryl that he was right. And she hated being wrong. She reached up, feeling her head for wounds and bringing her hand away covered in blood. Head wounds were the fucking worst. In the past, she’d just tied on her bandana and that seemed to stop the flow, but that wasn’t much of an option at this point.

“Fuck.” She hissed. The walker in front of her started to press his face through the broken windshield, the edges of the glass catching on his skin and peeling it back from his skull. She recoiled, unbuckling the seat belt and pulling herself into the backseat. She pushed the opposite door open, kicking the door out when it got stuck, and pulled herself through.

Her boots hit the ground and she checked her belt for her knives. All present and accounted for. This situation was exactly why you strapped knives all over you. They wouldn’t move, even in a car accident. A pair of arms wrapped around her and she shrieked in surprise, shoving the walker backward. It peeled her jacket from her shoulders but she slid one arm out, managing to grab a knife and jam it into the walker’s eye. She pulled her jacket from his hands and slipped it back on, the sleeve now ripped.

-

Daryl watched the members of the group exit Hershel’s farmhouse after they finished dinner. He noted Iris’ absence and walked to her tent, grumbling to himself. He was trying to apologize and she didn’t have the damn courtesy to be there at all?

“Iris?” He asked lowly, standing outside her tent. He waited for a moment, hearing no movement or shuffling from the inside. “‘m comin’ in.” He mumbled, pulling the zipper down. He frowned when he saw that the tent was empty, standing back to his full height.

“Hey, Shane, you seen Iris?” Daryl called as Shane stalked across the campsite.

“Nope.” He called back shortly, shuffling into his own tent without turning back.

“Where could she have gone?” Lori asked, frowning down at her son, who was looking around for her. Daryl then realized that Iris probably decided that she was more than capable of going on her own, even if he had told her to get lost. Especially if Lori had asked her to do it.

“Damn it.” Daryl mumbled. “Dumbass.” He jogged over to his own tent, grabbing his crossbow and hooking it over his shoulder. “Went off looking for Rick.”

“On her own?” Lori asked, horrified. Carl scowled, adjusting his hat on his head as he turned toward the road.

“Yeah, ain’t that what you asked her to do?” Daryl growled in annoyance. He moved over to his bike, starting the engine and revving the motorcycle loudly. The tires skidded across the dirt as he pulled away from the farm, leaving the rest of the camp standing and watching in shock.

He drove faster along the road than he usually would, enjoying the excuse of open roads and no laws. It wasn’t long before he found the flipped car in the ditch, with a few dead walkers laid across the road. He left the bike running but stepped off, pulling out his crossbow as he kicked the walkers, ensuring they were dead. She wasn’t inside the car, and she was nowhere around the road or in the immediate vicinity. She could have ducked into the trees, but it was harder to see in the dark in the forest. More dangerous, too.

“Iris!” He whispered sharply, not wanting to draw any more walkers than he already would. He paused, listening to the cicadas in the hot summer heat. In the distance, he heard the far rumble of gunshots and his frown deepened.

Daryl got back on his bike, continuing down the road. She couldn’t have gotten far on foot, even if she wasn’t injured. The car looked like it had been flipped for a bit, but there was no telling how long she stayed there for. Good thing he was a damn good tracker. It was another five minutes before he noticed a silhouette walking along the side of the road, a ridiculous amount of knives strapped to her legs and hips. He pulled the bike to a stop in front of her, scowling as she stopped, folding her arms.

“You good?” He asked.

“Think so.” She replied simply. 

“You sure? Pretty nasty wreck.” He pulled out a flashlight, shining it in her face, over her limbs. Either than maybe a mild concussion, she seemed okay. There was dried blood on her forehead, but the wound had already clotted. “C’mon. Get you back to camp.”

“No. I told Lori I was gonna find Rick and Hershel, so I’m gonna find them.” Iris refused, pulling away from him. He reached out, taking her elbow in a firm grip.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed out here, doing shit for other people.”

“If we don’t do shit for each other, there’s no difference between us and them.” Iris hissed, gesturing to their greater surroundings. “I know you’re pissed about Sophia, and so am I, but there’s nothing we can do about it now, except make sure nobody else from our group dies.”

“Yet you’re out here, making me come get you—“

“You wouldn’t have had to if you’d come with me in the first place!”

“Sounds like some blackmail bullshit.” He grumbled. Iris scoffed, folding her arms. “Look, I don’t know what’s your problem, I’m out here saving your life!”

“Oh, god, my hero!” Iris cried sarcastically, mimicking… well, Olive Oyl. “I didn’t ask you to come save me! I have been on my own for months. I am perfectly happy being alone.”

“You don’t know what to do with yourself. You said it yourself, you’re just itching for something to happen.” He replied, huffing in frustration. “Well, here it is. Somethin’ happened, and now you’re needin’ my help! You’re not my responsibility!” Iris said nothing, sticking her tongue in her cheek while he yelled. He scoffed, throwing his arms up in the air, but he didn’t miss the way Iris flinched as he raised his hands. Yet, she stared him down fearlessly, the wrath of God behind her eyes, and heard whatever he had to say. Hard as nails, she was.

“I never said I was. Go back, Daryl. If it means that much, you should have left me to rot.” Iris hissed. She made to turn on her heel, to continue on the way to town. Maybe she could hot-wire another car— Daryl stopped her, his hand on her elbow again. 

They stared at one another, one glaring at the other and vice versa, for about five minutes before either of them broke away. Daryl’s gaze shifted as a walker shuffled out from between the trees at the edge of the forest, quick reflexes and a bolt from the crossbow and it was on the ground. He turned back to find her still staring at him.

“C’mon.” He mumbled, jerking his chin at the bike. She stared at him for a moment more before he got onto the bike, shifting forward a little and sat, simply waiting. Wasting gas, making noise, idling in a world facing the threat of— well, global warming wasn’t really an issue anymore, was it? There were barely any humans left to do anything.

For some reason, it felt like Iris was admitting defeat as she succumbed to her headache, getting on the back of Daryl’s bike. She kept as separated from him as she could, holding onto the back of the seat as he pulled off down the road, back to the farm.

Taglist:

@heidiland05 @ryoujoking @catlalice @maxinehufflepuffprincess @lowkeyhottho

[alwayschasingrainbows]

Anne Shirley and the symbolism of pearls:

Pearls as a dream of a luxury:

"Now I’m going to imagine things into this room so that they’ll always stay imagined. [...] I am tall and regal, clad in a gown of trailing white lace, with a pearl cross on my breast and pearls in my hair.”

Anne of Green Gables

Pearls as a symbol of a sympathy and kindness:

"Ruby Gillis gave me an apple and Sophia Sloane lent me a lovely pink card with ‘May I see you home?’ on it. I’m to give it back to her tomorrow. And Tillie Boulter let me wear her bead ring all the afternoon."

Anne of Green Gables

Pearls as the most prized possession:

"I must do it. My honor is at stake,” said Anne solemnly. “I shall walk that ridgepole, Diana, or perish in the attempt. If I am killed you are to have my pearl bead ring.”

Anne of Green Gables

Pearls as a symbol of home:

“Well, I don’t want to be anyone but myself, even if I go uncomforted by diamonds all my life,” declared Anne. “I’m quite content to be Anne of Green Gables, with my string of pearl beads. I know Matthew gave me as much love with them as ever went with Madame the Pink Lady’s jewels.”

Anne of Green Gables

Pearls as a symbol of happiness:

“After all,” Anne had said to Marilla once, “I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.”

Anne of Avonlea

Pearls as a symbol of love and marriage:

Anne’s engagement ring was a circlet of pearls. She had refused to wear a diamond.[...]

Pearls as a symbol of tears:

“But pearls are for tears, the old legend says,” Gilbert had objected.

Pearls as a symbol of joy and life:

“I’m not afraid of that. And tears can be happy as well as sad. My very happiest moments have been when I had tears in my eyes [...]. So give me pearls for our troth ring, Gilbert, and I’ll willingly accept the sorrow of life with its joy.”

Anne's House of Dreams

Pearls as a symbol of love and sacrifice:

"Jem, I never thought you supposed they were real pearls. I knew they weren't...at least in one sense of real. In another, they are the most real things I've ever had given me. Because there was love and work and self-sacrifice in them...and that makes them more precious to me than all the gems that divers have fished up from the sea for queens to wear."

Anne of Ingleside

[extra-vertebrae]

Picked up Tears of the Kingdom for my birthday this year and played it over an art sabbatical. After beating it, I have some thoughts about a pair of critters.

Consider this a "spoiler" line for those who haven't beaten the game.

I've been pondering over the Light Dragon and the Tears associated with her transformation. When you take everything given about the transformation at face value, this dragon bursts into being with no sense of self, but presumably still carrying intact though likely scattered memories of when she was still Zelda. Her first act is to shed tears, presumably created through an intense sorrow borne out of thoughts, concerns, and memories that she no longer understands. Her "new" mind is struck with immense emotional pain that now probably just repeats itself over and over as she aimlessly patrols the skies of Hyrule for thousands of years until a man pulls a toothpick out of her forehead. Alternatively, the shedding of tears is symbolic of the final vestiges of Zelda's self as it ebbs away in her new existence, leaving her mind a blank slate unable to recall, process, or attribute anything to anything.

Of course, the game pulls a cop-out and goes "oh, she was just sleeping this whole time!" at the end, which I think is bullshit, but fine, we can't have Zelda scarred for the remainder of her life. We'll just say her memories of flying aimlessly for however long were just yeeted by the mercy of Sophia and Rauru and leave it at that. The implication is probably a reversal via some super powered Recall, but still.

Then comes Ganon, who takes the same road in an effort to cling to power. A new dragon that, just like Zelda, has no self - just a ream of memories and what is probably a deep, directionless, unfathomable anger towards an insignificant entity. How awful must these paired existences be? How aware are they, truly?

A repeated note in the compendium entries for all of the dragons is: "it causes [x deadly phenomena when people are in close range], but it means no harm." I thought about this later and played with the idea that, what if, even taking story circumstances in hand, Ganon's dragon was the same as the rest in this specific regard - creating phenomena out of no actual intent to harm so much as an instinctual self defence mechanism against an unknown "thing" approaching him. Does Ganon still actually recognise Link from all of 30 seconds ago? Or is he just an animal with the same blank slate as Zelda? Whichever the case, despite all the damage he's done, this feels like an especially tragic end for Ganondorf in the sense that, he technically becomes an entirely new entity that has done absolutely nothing except be confronted by a pair of unfamiliar creatures, and is smote in barely a few minutes. Minutes of existence either fraught with confusing memories of anger and violence, or a blank mind with no comprehensive ability, snuffed out due to an inherent danger he poses through, in a way, no "fault" of his own in this new body and mind.

Just a fun thought I had. I've been wondering since I started playing and seeing all of the Memories, if at any point Ganondorf (or Link and Zelda for that matter) has ever actually possessed free will in being the manifestation (?) of the Triforce of Power (or its spirit? My Zelda lore is rusty as hell and super limited).

ETA: also, I really appreciate the addition of a pig's nose on Ganon's dragon form. A+, I love it.

[biggerbetterbat]

WITH YOU [43] HOUSE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FOREST

Daryl Dixon x OC!Charlie Reed

Summary: Charlie starts to accept that now she has a new group. Carol finds a house in the middle of the forest, and the group decides to stay they for some time. Charlie, Tyreese, and Carol are worried about Lizzie.

Warnings: angst, death, killing Walkers

Song: Bruises Lewis Capaldi

Words: 4,816

Mom, dad, Finn, Luke, Will, Pete, Amy, Jim, Jacquie, Sophia, Shane, Patricia, Jimmy, Lori, T-Dog, Oscar, Axel, Merle, Andrea, Zach, Patrick, Hershel, Rick, Carl, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, Bob, Sasha, Daryl, Beth.

"Do you think there'll be kids there?" Charlie heard Lizzie's voice in the silence of the night. "At Terminus?"

"If their parents kept them safe like Tyreese and Charlie kept all of you safe.”

"I saved Tyreese. And then Charlie," she said. "I shoot people that tried to hurt them," Lizzie explained."I didn't mean to shoot in the head."

"You had to," Carol said. "You saved Tyreese and Charlie."

"Maybe there still will be kids," said the girl. "Did you have kids?"

A chilling shiver crawled down Charlie’s spine as the haunting memory resurfaced. The weight of sorrow pressed heavily on her chest, and a sense of helplessness gripped her soul. The vivid memory of Sophia leaving the barn as a beast played over and over, leaving a profound ache and a lingering fear that echoed in the depths of her consciousness. Charlie started whispering her countdown again to muffle Carol's voice. "Mom, dad, Finn, Luke, Will, Pete, Amy, Jim, Jacquie, Sophia..."

She tried to convince herself that everything that had happened so far was nothing more than a bad dream. She repeated reassuring words, attempting to dismiss the vivid images as figments of imagination. And with that thought she closed her eyes tightly and fell asleep.

The weather was hot from the early hours. Even though, they were lucky to walk in the shadows of the trees, it was impossible to walk without a break, so now the group was resting. It wasn't the safest place to sit around as something could easily go down on them from the high hill, but Tyreese was not only suffering from heat but also from the pain that he felt in his arm.

"Would you like to hold her?" Carol asked her. "I have to help Tyreese with his arm."

Charlie looked down at the baby and grimaced. A surge of discomfort coursed through Charlie at the thought that she would hold Judith. Confusion and guilt mingled with an aversion, creating a mixed feeling within. The internal conflict added a layer of pain, casting a shadow over what should have been a moment of tenderness. Charlie looked up at Carol. "No."

"Why you never want to hold her?" asked Mika, sitting on front of Charlie with a baby in her arms, as she took it from Carol.

"I'm not good with kids," she answered.

"You're good with Carl," the girl said but immediately regretted it. After recalling the memory of Carl, Charlie's emotions swirled in a mix of sorrow, nostalgia, and perhaps even guilt or regret. Waves of grief washed over her as she realized the absence of a boy who became her friend. The memory served as a poignant reminder of the big impact Carl had on her life, leaving Charlie with an even bigger hole in her heart."Sorry. Shouldn't have said that."

"Yeah, you shouldn't."

"I miss my dad," the girl confessed. "Do you miss someone?"

"I do," Charlie nodded. In fact, she was missing more than just one person. She lost so many people on the way that fingers of one hand was not enough to count them all.

"But we should be happy," Mika said and gave Charlie a small smile. "We still have Carol. And Tyreese. And we have each other, right?"

She nodded her head, feeling the light of sympathy light in her for the girl. Besides she was right, they still had some friends left after the loss of those who have passed away, and Charlie experienced a mixture of gratitude, relief, and a renewed sense of connection. She might feel grief; however, she should appreciate the relationships she still had, recognizing the importance of cherishing and nurturing these connections. Despite the pain of loss, the realization that she still had friends by her side brought a glimmer of hope and warmth to her heart.

"How's your arm?" Charlie asked the man, while they were sitting on the tracks, waiting for Carol and Mika.

"Better," he nodded. "And how are you?"

"Better."

"I spy trees and weeds," suddenly said Lizzie to Tyreese as they were playing some odd game.

Suddenly, not so far away they heard snarling. It was filled with hunger and determination, shoulders squared and gaze fixed ahead, to get to the meal. The rhythmic sound of its footsteps echoed against the cold metal rails, a solitary rhythm in the silence of the empty landscape. He was alone, but his voice could easily lure others.

"Stay here," Charlie said as she got up and grabbed her bow.

It got stuck in the hole in the trucks, so Charlie could get as close as possible. She methodically drew back the string with a fluid motion, her movements practiced and precise. With focused concentration, she anchored her grip, ensuring stability and control. Her gaze fixates on the target, unwavering despite any distractions around. With each breath, she tried to steady the aim, aligning the arrow, so it would go straight through the Walker's head. Time seemed to slow as she reached the pinnacle of tension, her muscles coiled just like Daryl taught her.

Daryl.

A painful thought. It caused Charlie's fingers to tremble against the taut bowstring, her mind swirled with the unbearable weight of the thought that Daryl might be dead. The Walker blurred through her tears as she struggled to steady her aim, her chest constricting with every heartbeat. Charlie's hand went slack, the bow slipping from her grasp as the realization crashed over her like a wave. Daryl, her closest companion, was gone. A hollow ache settled in Charlie's chest, suffocating her with its weight. Daryl was gone, leaving Charlie to grapple with the harsh reality of a future without him.

She reached over to her belt, where her axe was replacing the knife that was left in the boiler room near Lori. Charlie sighed and was ready to finally kill the Walker.

"Charlie!" Lizzie's scream cut through the air. "Sometimes we have to kill them. I know that, but sometimes we don't."

Charlie's brow furrowed. In her eyes, Lizzie’s plea seemed like a dangerous liability, a weakness that could jeopardize their survival in the unforgiving world they now inhabited. Charlie really tried to understand, making excuses that back in the day she also had troubles to kill one of them. However, Lizzie saw what the Walkers can do, so Charlie couldn't understand how she could be so naive, so blind to the harsh realities they faced every day. To Charlie, killing the walker became a necessary act of self-preservation, a means of protecting themselves and ensuring their continued existence in a world overrun by the undead.

As she looked at Lizzie, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment towards her perceived weakness. In her mind, her reluctance to take action was a sign of her inability to adapt to their new reality, a flaw that could ultimately put them all in danger.

"There's no sometimes," Charlie answered but didn't pursue the want to kill the Walker. He was trapped anyway.

The house that Carol and Mika stumbled upon in the woods appeared like a perfect opportunity to rest after days of voyage. Its weathered exterior bore the scars of time, with peeling paint and warped wood hinting at months or even years of neglect. Vines and ivy snaked their way up the walls, reclaiming the structure as their own in nature's relentless march. Despite its wild appearance, the house exuded an eerie sense of tranquility, nestled among the trees like a hidden sanctuary. It seemed peaceful in a world that became chaotic. The front porch sagged under the weight of years, yet still beckoned with the promise of shelter and respite. It was surrounded by the trees, and beside the house being neglected, in front of the porch grew yellow flowers.

"Girls, you sit tight," Carol said. "Charlie make sure that no one is coming in until we come out no matter what you hear."

"They're gonna be okay," Mika said to Charlie and she nodded. Then the little girl looked at her sister and sat down next to her and Judith.

As Charlie stood guard outside the house, her boredom became weighing heavily on her shoulders like a cloak. The minutes dragged on, each one stretching into an eternity as she watched over Lizzie and Mika with growing impatience. The forest seemed to close in around them, suffocating them with its oppressive stillness. She longed for some distraction, anything to break the monotony of her task.

Charlie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her gaze wandering aimlessly over the surrounding. Every rustle of leaves or distant caw of a crow seemed to warn her, reminding her to focus as they were surrounded by the unknown. However, she wasn't scared. She was ready to use her weapon in case of any emergency.

"It's not that," Lizzie answered to whatever Mika said, but her eyes were stuck on the grave. Charlie's attention was back on them. "They're gonna find one in there and they're going..."

"Stop it! They aren't people!"

"But you're wrong," Lizzie shrugged her arms looking at her sister finally. Then her eyes rested on Charlie. "All of you."

The way she regarded walkers as people filled Charlie with a deep sense of unease, a primal instinct warning her of the danger lurking beneath Lizzie's innocent facade. Charlie knew all too well the true nature of these creatures, the insatiable hunger that lurked behind their lifeless eyes. She couldn't shake the feeling that her behavior would lead to something bad.

With furrowed brow and clenched jaw, Charlie struggled to contain her emotions, her eyes darting nervously between Lizzie and the surrounding woods - not being sure what was more dangerous. As the shadows lengthened around them, Charlie couldn't shake the feeling that the house was either a sanctuary or a tomb.

Her thoughts immersed her so much that she woke up from them the moment the Walker that came out of nowhere, was crawling in the direction of Lizzie and Judith. Mika tried to shoot it immediately, but she missed the head as it was moving so much, and she was too scared.

Charlie lunged forward, her grip tightening around the handle of the axe as she swung with all her might. The blade bit deep into the walker's flesh, cleaving through skin and bone with a sickening thud. Time seemed to slow as the walker stumbled backward, its lifeless eyes fixed on its prey even as its body crumpled to the ground. Charlie stood panting amidst the chaos, her chest heaving with exertion as she surveyed the scene before her. Adrenaline surged through her veins as she fought to protect Lizzie, Mika, and little Judith, her every instinct focused on driving back the relentless tide of danger.

But amidst the fear, there was a flicker of relief in Charlie's eyes, a sense of triumph born from the knowledge that she had saved them from harm. As she turned to face Lizzie, Mika, and Judith, their wide-eyed stares met her own, filled with a mixture of fear and gratitude. In that moment, Charlie knew that she had done what was necessary to protect her new friends.

Charlie knelt next the older girl. "There's no sometimes," she repeated what she said couple of hours before, signaling that Walkers should be killed always. Lizzie pushed her hand away with a furry in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" asked Carol while Tyreese was picking up Judith. They both stormed out of the house, alarmed by the noise. "Why are you upset? Are you scared?"

"No."

"Just look at the flowers like you're supposed to," Mika tried to calm her sister down.

Charlie was watching it all with furrowed eyebrows.

"Look," Charlie said and stretched out an arm to the girl. Her eyes lit up at the sight. "You like her?"

"She's perfect!" Mika took the doll. "I'm gonna name her Griselda Gunderson!"

Charlie snorted. "That's an exceptional name."

"You don't like it?"

"I do," she smiled lightly. "But we should tame her hair."

"We should," Mika chuckled. "I like your braid. Could you braid my hair like that?"

Charlie smiled at the girl and nodded her head. Then she moved her eyes to Tyreese who sat down in an armchair with an uneasy stare. Charlie furrowed her brows. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not used to this," he said. "We're living in a room in a house."

"Yeah, so relax," Charlie smiled.

"We should stay here," Mika interrupted.

"What about the Terminus?" Carol asked from her place. "You don't want to go there?"

"Maybe we can stay here for some time."

Lizzie smiled and nodded her head, so Charlie exchanged stares with the other adults. Feeling of family warmth overcame her body, and small smile stayed on her lips. As the feeling grew, she started to hum a lullaby she knew. In a moment she felt Mika's body, curling up to her, becoming heavy as the sleep took over it.

"Mom, dad, Finn, Luke, Will, Pete, Amy, Jim, Jacquie, Sophia, Shane, Patricia, Jimmy, Lori, T-Dog, Oscar, Axel, Merle, Andrea, Zach, Patrick, Hershel, Rick, Carl, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, Bob, Sasha, Daryl, Beth..." Charlie was muttering under her nose as she thought everyone was sleeping. They all decided that it would be better to spend first couple nights together.

"Charlie?" she heard a whisper. "What are you doing? You aren't sleeping?"

"Did I wake you?" she whispered.

"It's okay," she shook her head in the dark and sat up slowly not to wake Lizzie or Mika up. Judith was peacefully sleeping on Tyreese chest, unbothered by the whispering. "What were you doing?"

"It's my thing," Charlie answered. "I'm trying to tire my brain so I could sleep."

"I don't think it's healthy," Carol said.

"It's working."

For a moment it became silence all over again, before Carol opened her mouth again. "Do you think they're all dead?"

"You saw what happened."

"Do you think Daryl didn't make it?" she asked.

Charlie gulped big and thick lump that formed in her throat. "He was trying to save everyone. Probably stayed to the end when there was no bus, car, and the place became overrun."

"But he's...Daryl," Carol tried to fill Charlie with hope. She didn't know that the whole conversation was just breaking her heart. "Do you miss him?"

"Yes," she whispered and felt the tears. "I don't know what I should do with myself when he's not around. It's as if I forgot everything he had been teaching me. I no longer know what is wrong or right."

"It will get better."

"When?"

"Sooner or later," Carol said with nostalgic tone.

"Hmm."

"Let's sleep, Sweet Thing."

As the group settled into the house they had discovered, Carol slipped into the role of both mother and lady of the house. With a quiet strength and unwavering determination, she took on the responsibility of caring for the needs of those around her, ensuring that they felt safe and supported in their new surroundings. Her warm smile and gentle words became a source of solace for the group, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still room for compassion and kindness.

Carol's nurturing presence extended to every corner of the house, from tending to the wounds of Tyreese to providing a listening ear for Charlie burdened by the weight of her grief. She became a pillar of strength for the group, her unwavering resolve serving as a source of hope for the girls in a world consumed by despair.

But perhaps most importantly, Carol took on the role of surrogate mother to the children, offering them love, guidance, and protection in the absence of their own parents. With a tender touch and a watchful eye, she helped to shield Judith from the horrors of the outside world, creating a sense of normalcy amidst the chaos. She also took as the point of honor to take care of Charlie and was making sure she's okay.

In Carol, the group found not only a leader and a provider but also a source of love and comfort in a world filled with darkness. And as they gathered around the hearth of their newfound home, they knew that as long as Carol was by their side, they would weather whatever challenges the future might bring.

"What are you doing?" Charlie asked as she entered the kitchen.

"Cookies," Carol smiled. "Girls said they would like to eat ones, and I found chocolate in the cupboard,"Charlie nodded with a smile and leaned on the counter. "Is something wrong?"

Carol developed a skill of reading her just by looking at her face. She couldn't precisely say if it was good or bad for now, but nothing could hide from Carol. So, Charlie decided to voice her concerns related to Lizzie.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on with the girl?"

"What do you mean?" Carol tried to brush her off with a smile.

"I mean, what's wrong with Lizzie?"

The woman placed everything down with a sigh and looked at Charlie. Carol was well aware of complexity of the problem with Lizzie. It was making her heart sink every time she was thinking about it, that's why she wasn't doing this much. "She's just lost," she said. "She can't understand how the world has changed."

"We can't leave it like that."

"Then what should we do?" Carol asked, but the silence answered her. "Exactly."

"She is dangerous to everyone. Even herself," Charlie voiced her worries.

"She's a good child," Carol said and looked over the window, watching as Lizzie was running around laughing. Charlie knew that the girls were replacing the emptiness Sophia left in Carol's heart, so it was probably harder to let the negative thoughts to her.

Which only made things harder.

Suddenly, Carol dropped everything and left the room that she was talking with Charlie. The second, furrowed her eyebrows and stepped closer to the window, and her heart sank.

As Charlie watched from a distance, a knot tightened in his stomach as she witnessed the horrifying scene unfolding before her. Lizzie, seemingly oblivious to the danger, gleefully played with the walker, her innocent laughter ringing through the air. Carol sprang into action with a speed and determination. With a primal instinct, she lunged forward, pulling Lizzie away from the walker's grasp just in the nick of time. The air seemed to crackle with tension as Carol wrestled with the undead creature, her every movement fueled by a mother's fierce protectiveness.

In the very moment, she felt another presence behind her. The man switched off the fire, so the whistle of the boiling water went quiet. Before he asked what was going on he looked out of the window. As it was quiet around, they both could hear a loud scream coming from Lizzie's mouth."She didn't want to hurt anybody! She was my friend and you killed her! You killed her!"

Tyreese's realization dawned slowly, like a dark cloud creeping across the sky. At first, he dismissed Lizzie's unsettling behavior as the product of trauma and fear, a child struggling to cope with the horrors of the world around her. But as he observed her reaction now, a gnawing sense of unease began to take root in his mind. He looked at Charlie and their eyes met.

The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place, each one a chilling revelation of the truth that lurked beneath the surface. The way Lizzie spoke about the walkers with an unsettling sense of familiarity, the disturbing drawings she created depicting violence and death – it all pointed to a deeply disturbed mind, a darkness that threatened to consume them all. However, nothing could be done.

The group needed to hunt down the deer they saw near the house. Charlie volunteered for that, and she decided to take Mika with her as she knew the importance of teaching her the skills necessary for survival, but he also felt the weight of responsibility resting heavily on her shoulders.

With a steady hand and a reassuring smile, Charlie guided Mika through the dense undergrowth, her senses on high alert for any sign of danger. She imparted her knowledge of tracking and hunting with patience and care, teaching her to move silently and stealthily through the forest like a ghost in the night. Remembering how Daryl used to teach her.

"The fire's still burning," the girl said, looking at the smoke that was raising in the distance for couple days now.

"It could have gone out," Charlie shrugged.

"Nope. The smoke is black," Mika argued. "If it was white, the fire wouldn't have be burning anymore," she said and smiled after seeing dumbfounded face of Charlie. "I miss science class. Except for when we had to do stuff like cut up planaria worms."

"There are worse things you've got to do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes you do," Charlie said with a firm voice and stopped walking. "Lizzie's bigger than you and in some ways she's stronger. But you're smarter and you understand these...things," she explained. Suddenly from behind the bushes appeared a big and shiny deer. He stopped a couple feet away, and proudly straightened his back. Charlie nudged the girl. "Do it. I showed you."

Charlie furrowed her brows as the girl turned to her. "I can't. We have peaches."

Charlie sighed in a defense, but smiled and nodded her head.

Carol and Tyreese were talking near the well as they were getting water for whatever reason. Their conversation seemed rather serious judging by Carol's face. But it break into a huge, bright smile as she saw Charlie approaching. "You're back already? Where's Mika?"

"She wanted to find Lizzie, so she could tell her about the hunt."

"And the deer?"

Charlie sighed. "Mika couldn't bring herself to shoot that deer and it was gone before I had a chance to shoot."

"Yeah, she's always been sensitive," Carol nodded.

"I'm not sure if she'll ever be able to pull the trigger."

"And you're so calm?" Tyreese narrowed his eyes in surprise.

Charlie looked up from the water source as she was washing her hands. "What am I supposed to do? Yell at her?" she asked annoyed. "She's a little girl, and I'm not a monster."

Carol exchanged glances with each other. "You weren't so soft with Carl."

"Sorry?"

"You didn't have any resistance to yell at him or put him at the edge of tears," she remembered.

Charlie's frustration simmered at Carol. She felt a pang of hurt at the accusation, her emotions torn between defending herself and understanding Carol's perspective. Deep down, Charlie knew she wasn't heartless, but the accusation still stung, leaving her feeling misunderstood and defensive. Maybe at first she wasn't the nicest to the boy, but he grew on her and became a close person to her heart. She never said anything to purposely hurt him...or did she? Carol's disapproving gaze only fueled Charlie's irritation, leaving her to wonder if maybe she was being too hard on the boy.

"Carl was a boy," Charlie straightened her back. Her annoyance increased at the mention of his name. "He needed to toughen up. Also, he was older than her..." she said, but as she voiced that she wasn't so sure. Carl didn't have any problems with guns; however, he was a sensitive child. Maybe she just had problem with identifying that and later it was too late to treat him gently. "Carl was different. I'll keep teaching her, but it's hard."

"She's got a good heart, Charlie," Carol said. "We'll find a way to keep her safe, even if it means stepping in ourselves."

"That's only the next reason why we should stay here," Tyreese changed the subject.

"What?"

"You liked the idea the other night."

"Yeah, I wanted to stay for couple of days not forever," Charlie said. "What if someone is alive and is in the Terminus?"

"We don't know that, sweet thing," Carol shook her head. "We don't know what waits us there."

"We can't stay here forever. We will run out of supplies eventually," she argued.

"Charlie, we can't risk heading to Terminus right now," Tyreese said. "It's too uncertain."

She didn't answer.

"We found this house for a reason — to stay hidden and regroup," Carol said.

"Regroup?" she scoffed. "Who do you want to regroup?"

"What would Daryl do?" the other woman asked. "You think he would want to risk Judith's life?"

"I think he would like to go to the Terminus if that meant reconnecting with the rest."

"Listen, we need a plan," the man said as the voice of reason. "Terminus might be a trap, and we can't gamble with our safety. Let's fortify here, gather resources, and figure out our next move together."

"Charlie! Carol! Help!

Carol, Charlie, and Tyreese sprinted through the trees, their hearts pounding as they heard the distant screams of the girls. Fear clenched at their chests, driving them forward with urgency. With each step, branches whipped past them, and the forest blurred into a chaotic mosaic of greens and browns. Adrenaline surged through their veins as they pushed themselves to move faster, desperate to reach the girls before it was too late.

As they burst into the clearing, they found Mika trapped, terror etched on her face as she struggled against the relentless advance of the walker. Without a thought, Carol shoot the Walker in the head which gave the girl a time to run from the five or six more.

Charlie didn't have a gun, so she was just watching what was happening in front of her, how the dead were dropping to the ground like flies. Her eyes widened in surprise as she watched Lizzie take aim and fire at the approaching walkers. She never expected the young girl to have the courage, let alone the skill, to defend herself in such a manner - especially in the light of past events. Her expression determined as she continued to take down the undead with steady shots.

Charlie couldn't help but feel a mix of shock and admiration for the girl's resilience in the face of danger. Maybe today's situation showed her the true nature of Walkers and their problem solved itself.

As the evening settled in after the harrowing ordeal of having to kill walkers, a somber atmosphere hung heavy over the group. They gathered around a flickering fire, the crackling flames casting long shadows that danced against the walls of their makeshift shelter. Charlie was sitting down on the floor, brushing the leaves out of Mika's hair as the girl was playing with a doll. Charlie once again began humming a lullaby and in a second Judith fell asleep in Tyreese's arms - along with Tyreese.

Despite the heaviness in the air, there was a sense of solidarity among them, a silent understanding that they were in this together, bound by a shared determination to survive. And as the night wore on, they found solace in each other's presence, drawing strength from the bonds that held them tight in the face of the uncertain future.

"I had to help stop them," said Lizzie in a low ton. She was still tense from what she had to do, and the emotions still fresh in her.

"Do you understand what they're now?" Carol asked.

"I know..." Lizzie nodded. "I know what I have to do now."

Carol's eyes met Charlie's and she nodded, so the other woman could continue her conversation with Lizzie. It was the right moment to convince her what was good and what was bad.

"It's ugly and it's scary," Carol said. "That's how we got to be here. That's growing up now."

"I don't want to hurt anyone," said Mikka suddenly, showing that she wasn't mindlessly playing with a toy.

"You have to be sometimes," Lizzie answered and then looked up at Charlie. "But just sometimes."

She smiled at her lightly and nodded her head, caressing Mika's hair. "Sometimes."

Sitting around the fire, Charlie couldn't help but smile as she listened to the girls' laughter as they were making cookies with Carol, their youthful energy a welcome respite from the harsh realities of their world.

And as they sat together surrounded by the warmth of the fire that was lighting up the room, Charlie couldn't help but feel grateful for the makeshift family she had found in the midst of the chaos, knowing that as long as they had each other, they could face whatever challenges lay ahead with strength and resilience.

Or so they thought...

previous masterlist next

[kazuma-asogi-blog]

Shrewd Simon Short sewed shoes. Seventeen summers, speeding storms, spreading sunshine successively, saw Simon’s small, shabby shop, still standing staunch, saw Simon’s selfsame squeaking sign still swinging silently specifying: Simon Short, Smithfield’s sole surviving shoemaker. Shoes sewed soles super finely.

Simon’s spry, sedulous spouse, Sally Short, sewed shirts, stitched sheets, stuffed sofas. Simon’s six stout sons — Seth, Samuel, Stephen, Saul, Silas, Shadrach – sold sundries. Sober Seth sold sugar, spices; simple Sam sold saddles, stirrups, screws; sagacious Stephen sold silks, satins, shawls; sceptical Saul sold silver salvers; selfish Shadrach sold salves, shoestrings, stops, saws, skates; slack Silas sold Sally Short’s stuffed sofas.

Some seven summers since, Simon’s second son Samuel saw Sophia Sophronia Spriggs somewhere. Sweet, smart, sensible Sophia Sophronia Spriggs. Sam soon showed strong symptoms. Sam seldom stayed storing, selling saddles. Sam sighed sorrowfully, sought Sophia Sophronia’s society, sang several serenades slyly. Simon stormed, scolded severely, said Sam seemed so silly singing such shameful, senseless songs. ‘Strange Sam should slight such splendid sales! Strutting spendthrift! Shattered-brained simpleton.’

‘Softly, softly, sire,’ said Sally. ‘Sam’s smitten; Sam’s spied some sweetheart.’

‘Sentimental schoolboy!’ snarled Simon. ‘Smitten! Stop such stuff.’ Simon sent Sally’s snuffbox spinning, seized Sally’s scissors, smashed Sally’s spectacles, scattering several spools. ‘Sneaking scoundrel! Sam’s shocking silliness shall surcease!’ Scowling, Simon stopped speaking, started swiftly shopward.

Sally sighed sadly. Summoning Sam, she spoke sweet sympathy. ‘Sam,’ said she, ‘Sire seems singularly snappy; so, solicit, sue, secure Sophronia speedily, Sam.’

‘So soon? So soon?’ said Sam, standing stock-still.

‘So soon, surely,’ said Sally, smiling, ‘specially since Sire shows such spirits.’

So Sam, somewhat scared, sauntered slowly. Shaking stupendously, Sam soliloquised: ‘Sophia Sophronia Spriggs, Spriggs — Short — Sophia Sophronia Short-Samuel Short’s spouse — sounds splendid! Suppose she should say — she shan’t — she shan’t!’

Soon Sam spied Sophia starching shirts, singing softly. Seeing Sam she stopped starching, saluting Sam smilingly. Sam stammered shockingly. ‘Spl-spl-splendid summer season, Sophia.’

‘Selling saddles still, Sam?’

‘Sar-sar-tin,’ said Sam, starting suddenly. ‘Season’s somewhat sudoriflc,’ said Sam, steadily, staunching streaming sweat, shaking sensibly.

‘Sartin,’ said Sophia, smiling significantly. ‘Sip some sweet sherbet, Sam.’ (Silence: sixty seconds.) ‘Sire shot sixty sheldrakes, Saturday,’ said Sophia.

‘Sixty? Shoot!’ said Sam. (Silence: seventy-seven seconds.)

‘See sister Susan’s sunflowers,’ said Sophia, socially, silencing such stiff silence.

Sophia’s sprightly sauciness stimulated Sam strangely; so Sam suddenly spoke sentimentally: ‘Sophia, Susan’s sunflowers seem saying Samuel Short, Sophia Sophronia Spriggs stroll serenely, seek some sequestered spot, some sylvan shade. Sparkling springs shall sing soul stirring strains; sweet songsters shall silence secret sighings; super-angelic sylphs shall —’

Sophia snickered; so Sam stopped. ‘Sophia,’ said Sam, solemnly. ‘Sam,’ said Sophia.

‘Sophia, stop smiling; Sam Short’s sincere. Sam’s seeking some sweet spouse, Sophia.’

Sophia stood silent.

‘Speak, Sophia, speak; such suspense speculates sorrow.’ ‘Seek, sire, Sam, seek sire.’

So Sam sought sire Spriggs. Sire Spriggs said, ‘Sartin.’

(I did not write this I googled long tongue twisters)

I'm not reading all that. My apologies, I...

Wait a minute, you were the one to sic van Zieks on me the other day, weren't you?

I see. You're making fun of me. Well. What if I were to assert that I just spoke aloud your entire message perfectly? If you want to claim I'm lying, the burden of proof is on you, my learned friend. I'd like to see what sort of evidence you can conjure up to the contrary.

Or you could give up and acknowledge my superior elocution.

[transbookoftheday]

Saint, Sorrow, Sinner by Freydís Moon

I no longer recommend this author's books.

An exploration of religious mythos, Brujería, and spiritual ascension…

Sophia De’voreaux never expected to escape Haven, but after a bloody confrontation in the Gideon Preserve, she finds herself under the protection of a rogue witch, her menacing guard, and their cautious friends.

Crumbling beneath an onslaught of ancient power, Sophia must put her reservations aside, because the Breath of Judas is no ordinary relic, and trusting the strange, dysfunctional group might be her only chance at ridding her body of its dangerous magic.

Before it’s too late.

Guided by Colin, Bishop, Tehlor, and Lincoln, Sophia leaves Colorado, seeking help from a mysterious mystic, Juniper Castle, and enters a race against time, chasing salvation, redemption, and a second chance at freedom.