Turning forty poems
Arenas and Podcasts and Albert, Oh My!
2015.06.05 17:19 Arenas and Podcasts and Albert, Oh My!
A general use bulletin board for all our awesome fans to discuss the things they like to discuss without it turning into an incomprehensible twitter chain where there's like forty people you have to @ so you only get two words to contribute what you want to say and so you just give up and make a poop joke.
2022.09.21 15:03 Lord_Rusty IranProtests2022
Updates on the protests in Iran following the death in custody of Twenty-two year old Mahsa Amini, who was arrested for improper hijab by the police enforcing public morality and religious observance. Her death has become a turning point for the women of Iran, after enduring forty years of oppression under the religious dictatorship government. This community provides a place to share news that brings focus to the brutal treatment of women in Iran and the women’s freedom movement in Iran.
2024.05.20 08:29 Glad_Cak3 Seeing Red
-Seeing Red— -by Rosen Dae (aka Me <3)
The red I was seeing was strong enough to blind me, Cover my ears, And block out the life around me.
The red I was seeing was strong enough to End the world, My world, And my families world.
The red I was seeing was strong enough to Kill me, Only me, And I probably deserve it.
The red I was seeing was strong enough to make me believe I'm better off gone, Dead, Or just never born.
The red I was seeing was strong enough to Tear me up inside, And outside, Or it made me think that.
The red I was seeing was not a lie, yet also not the truth, For as it faded away, The red I was seeing turned pink.
The red I was seeing was real, but maybe it wasn't red, Maybe it was blue, Or black, Or purple, Or green.
The red I was seeing was guarded by words, It was never red, It was never my fault, The red I was seeing was not red it was a rainbow.
notes I wrote this poem about how my entire life I was told I had anger issues and to stop being dramatic. Because of that I grew up thinking emotions were a sin and that if I had the slightest twinge of anger I was a monster. But I was ever wrong And I want you to know that your emotions are valid and you should embrace them, not push them away. If you bottle them up, you might just start 'seeing red’ :)
submitted by Glad_Cak3 to justpoetry [link] [comments]
The red I was seeing was strong enough to blind me, Cover my ears, And block out the life around me.
The red I was seeing was strong enough to End the world, My world, And my families world.
The red I was seeing was strong enough to Kill me, Only me, And I probably deserve it.
The red I was seeing was strong enough to make me believe I'm better off gone, Dead, Or just never born.
The red I was seeing was strong enough to Tear me up inside, And outside, Or it made me think that.
The red I was seeing was not a lie, yet also not the truth, For as it faded away, The red I was seeing turned pink.
The red I was seeing was real, but maybe it wasn't red, Maybe it was blue, Or black, Or purple, Or green.
The red I was seeing was guarded by words, It was never red, It was never my fault, The red I was seeing was not red it was a rainbow.
notes I wrote this poem about how my entire life I was told I had anger issues and to stop being dramatic. Because of that I grew up thinking emotions were a sin and that if I had the slightest twinge of anger I was a monster. But I was ever wrong And I want you to know that your emotions are valid and you should embrace them, not push them away. If you bottle them up, you might just start 'seeing red’ :)
2024.05.20 07:30 rdk67 Spring Day 61: Hot Cicada Sunday
Today! Today issued forth these existential moments, when the absence of human activity is the defining feature of the landscape – not because there is a disaster or a change of heart about the human project but because, well, I don’t know, so I grab my backpack, which stands for aspects of the soul that only sprout in alternate realities – and charge into the day to find out. By noon, the heat is like a flickering color in the mind – unseasonably early for this sort of highlight, and then I remember the cicadas are appearing, which might explain the sudden interest by the rest of the universe. Not halfway down the block, I’m startled by the first cicada of the season – near the top of the tallest tree by the building that houses the renowned music program. The cicada makes music all by itself, and it is like a siren made of clicks, a drumstick pulled across bones.
This is just the beginning of the historical emergence, and the location where I live is one of the nationally recognized hot spots. The people, I don’t believe, have evacuated, but they certainly aren’t rubbing their hands over the trembling earth, waiting for bulging eyes and knobby legs to drag a dirt-stained cicada out of the ground, then off to a place to molt. The molting process is brimming with the sort of metaphor we associate with heaven – something below ground for its whole remembered life, save for a brief time after it hatches, falls out of a tree and into the grass, crawls down into the soil to find a tasty dandelion root to suck on. That original body, on the brightest day of the year, goes searching for a hard vertical surface to cling to, like the side of the tree it was feeding on, then escapes out of its body through the hind end of its own skull.
The heat seems to have its own sense of choice in evidence. While I’m standing there, listening for more clicks, the heat generates a crackling sensation across my shoulders, like patches of my skin are sparkling below my shirt. The clouds – more of those cumulonimbus dreams-come-true – are simultaneously isles and aisles – two bulging eyes – both work, so whichever, either one a somewhat brawny pronunciation, like the words have to walk with a slight bow about the legs, because of the pronounced thigh muscles. Just as I turn to walk away from the lone cicada at the top of the school of music’s tallest tree, the clicking begins again. I stop and turn back to the tree – it stops. I turn to walk, and the clicking sounds again. Maybe the cicada brood will be so large, the movie we call reality has given them final cut, at least for the next few months, so I carry on.
That cicada was a female – they make that clicking sound by rubbing their wings together, and I picture the males all hearing the clicking as a variation of – could some big strong male crawl on over and open this jar for me? The male call is the more familiar whooping siren, which is made with a spasmodic diaphragm on their abdomens – Jerry Lee Lewis at his most raucous – though I believe he did play piano with his feet, so there are dissimilarities, too. The big winners will be the birds and fish, which are looking forward to extra animal protein wherever they look for the next couple of months, second nesting seasons all but in the bag. At the height of his fame, Jerry Lee famously wedded his 13-year-old cousin. Myra Williams was her name, and she said later, after the divorce, she was always the adult in the relationship. They stayed married for 13 years.
Scientists speculate that cicada broods follow such irregular cycles – 7 years, 13 years, 17 years – because they are prime numbers and therefore difficult for predators to sync to over time in the performance of their own boom and bust cycles. I like this theory, though I wonder why the rest of the animal kingdom hasn’t likewise worked the numbers – like cicadas launched themselves into a probabilistic deep-space orbit inside the mind of nature, and never looked back. I picture Neil Armstrong on the ladder of the lunar module, freezing in place, mission command busy on the radio but no reply from Neil until, all wet and new, he bursts forth through the back of his space helmet, as naked as the day he was born, gets busy inflating his wing casings, as mission control cheers, and the scientists all light cigarettes to relieve the stress, maybe hand out cigars.
The heat is a measure of energy in the system – to the extent it also accounts for human absence, we stay huddled inside on hot days like today due to chronic overabundance – nature is giving us too much – which is also true for many allergies and fevers – but with the overabundance of energy, you can find relief through the judicious application of even more energy, which option I used to always forego on general principle – I want to feel the reality of days overabundant as surely as days where the molecules are all optimally excited. These days, I’m in charge of a mid-sized HVAC operation, and thus, feel part of my body living inside a factory of probability that stretches around the world. We humans, on days like today, take it as a given that temperature-controlled climates are part of the deal, that molecules should be in optimal states of excitement.
Which, with self-similarity across scale in mind, might suggest nature treat our excitability with similar regard. Oh to live the life of temperate climes, where fairness and passion are concerned! I’m on my way to the library to borrow a book about love and rage, written by a Buddhist, who examines the roll of anger in transformation. I have no truck with my fellow human sufferers – literally no anger at all – but with human systems? Disembodied intelligences? Those aspects of the hyperform that privilege torment and indifference? When it climbs to a high enough part of the tree to be heard, I can indeed hear my anger. What’s that? A false reality precipitates false authority? Yet knowing this, hyperforms readily believe wealth confers merit. The exaggerated accumulation of capital is an existential disease assuaged with the delusion of personal success.
A block from the library, I come upon two boys playing in a pile of sand beside a garden. The one boy seems to be trying to burrow inside it, and the other is battering the sand with the flat side of a child-sized metal shovel. He has the wrong shovel for the job, a fact I choose to keep to myself, especially since the one really is trying to thwack the tall pile just as hard as he can. The sort of thing kids do in a spirit of curiosity – what happens to the world when the force of one’s anger is applied to a giant pile of sand? Perhaps the urge to use force for no reason is the human behavior we end up with when ambient energy gets so overabundant. This is what life seems to be – the planet’s novel approach to dissipating heat. We are much more than that, of course, and fortunately, the kids have plenty of time and energy to prove it. Their parents tell them to stop.
When a cicada molts, the effect is more than just a body crawling out of a body – for instance, in the moments before this happens, the cicada is visibly squirming inside its former self, which is permanently clinging to the side of a tree, and all the while, it is feeling the pronounced effect of gravity for the first time in its life, not to mention terrestrial life in the trees, where the sap flows freely and sunshine dances on those giant globular eyes for the first time. Emerging cicadas first do a backbend, then hang upside down by their hind ends, letting the legs, wings and abdomen inflate and adjust to the atmospheric pressure, which pressure gracefully draws the body back to an upright posture. They stay that way, letting their wings inflate, flatten out, stiffen. Veins in the wings were veins, were flesh, before the flesh became the will to fly, a means of saying hello.
Nearer the library, I catch sight of someone squatting in the subsurface terrace of the Unitarian-Universalist peace church – I spot a bedroll and backpack, a forty-ounce can of something cold to drink on such a sweltering day. The guy is leaning against the brick wall, staring into space, and I picture him being the pile of sand from the block before – the one repeatedly hit over the head with the flat side of a shovel. At the library, they’re resetting the furniture after a musical performance. I don’t really know who it was – I just see my favorite librarian thanking someone with a violin case, the sort of hardened case they used to carry machine guns around in, and for a moment I hear the rat-a-tat-tat that stands for the sound of anger overcoming us – but then it becomes that highest cicada, back at the top of her tree, rubbing her wings, building railroads.
The heat on the walk home – neighborhoods still evacuated – is like a drunken horse I’m forced to ride. I can feel my body swaying from side to side a little more than usual, so I try to imagine some other time – for instance, when our bodies will be able to take the heat on a day like today and do something with it – cranial stimulation or micromachines to repair the body or even just a way for the body to stay cool without installing an HVAC system. A crow stops me cold when I hear it imitating the sound of a cicada – it doesn’t have the tone exactly right, but it’s doing the clicks, and I know this is true of crows – they acquire new elements of language from what they hear, and the crows must be hearing female cicadas calling out to the others. What a witness! I call up to the crow – or maybe it’s just got a cicada in its beak. In instant reply, the crow shrieks.
submitted by rdk67 to MetaphysicalWeather [link] [comments]
This is just the beginning of the historical emergence, and the location where I live is one of the nationally recognized hot spots. The people, I don’t believe, have evacuated, but they certainly aren’t rubbing their hands over the trembling earth, waiting for bulging eyes and knobby legs to drag a dirt-stained cicada out of the ground, then off to a place to molt. The molting process is brimming with the sort of metaphor we associate with heaven – something below ground for its whole remembered life, save for a brief time after it hatches, falls out of a tree and into the grass, crawls down into the soil to find a tasty dandelion root to suck on. That original body, on the brightest day of the year, goes searching for a hard vertical surface to cling to, like the side of the tree it was feeding on, then escapes out of its body through the hind end of its own skull.
The heat seems to have its own sense of choice in evidence. While I’m standing there, listening for more clicks, the heat generates a crackling sensation across my shoulders, like patches of my skin are sparkling below my shirt. The clouds – more of those cumulonimbus dreams-come-true – are simultaneously isles and aisles – two bulging eyes – both work, so whichever, either one a somewhat brawny pronunciation, like the words have to walk with a slight bow about the legs, because of the pronounced thigh muscles. Just as I turn to walk away from the lone cicada at the top of the school of music’s tallest tree, the clicking begins again. I stop and turn back to the tree – it stops. I turn to walk, and the clicking sounds again. Maybe the cicada brood will be so large, the movie we call reality has given them final cut, at least for the next few months, so I carry on.
That cicada was a female – they make that clicking sound by rubbing their wings together, and I picture the males all hearing the clicking as a variation of – could some big strong male crawl on over and open this jar for me? The male call is the more familiar whooping siren, which is made with a spasmodic diaphragm on their abdomens – Jerry Lee Lewis at his most raucous – though I believe he did play piano with his feet, so there are dissimilarities, too. The big winners will be the birds and fish, which are looking forward to extra animal protein wherever they look for the next couple of months, second nesting seasons all but in the bag. At the height of his fame, Jerry Lee famously wedded his 13-year-old cousin. Myra Williams was her name, and she said later, after the divorce, she was always the adult in the relationship. They stayed married for 13 years.
Scientists speculate that cicada broods follow such irregular cycles – 7 years, 13 years, 17 years – because they are prime numbers and therefore difficult for predators to sync to over time in the performance of their own boom and bust cycles. I like this theory, though I wonder why the rest of the animal kingdom hasn’t likewise worked the numbers – like cicadas launched themselves into a probabilistic deep-space orbit inside the mind of nature, and never looked back. I picture Neil Armstrong on the ladder of the lunar module, freezing in place, mission command busy on the radio but no reply from Neil until, all wet and new, he bursts forth through the back of his space helmet, as naked as the day he was born, gets busy inflating his wing casings, as mission control cheers, and the scientists all light cigarettes to relieve the stress, maybe hand out cigars.
The heat is a measure of energy in the system – to the extent it also accounts for human absence, we stay huddled inside on hot days like today due to chronic overabundance – nature is giving us too much – which is also true for many allergies and fevers – but with the overabundance of energy, you can find relief through the judicious application of even more energy, which option I used to always forego on general principle – I want to feel the reality of days overabundant as surely as days where the molecules are all optimally excited. These days, I’m in charge of a mid-sized HVAC operation, and thus, feel part of my body living inside a factory of probability that stretches around the world. We humans, on days like today, take it as a given that temperature-controlled climates are part of the deal, that molecules should be in optimal states of excitement.
Which, with self-similarity across scale in mind, might suggest nature treat our excitability with similar regard. Oh to live the life of temperate climes, where fairness and passion are concerned! I’m on my way to the library to borrow a book about love and rage, written by a Buddhist, who examines the roll of anger in transformation. I have no truck with my fellow human sufferers – literally no anger at all – but with human systems? Disembodied intelligences? Those aspects of the hyperform that privilege torment and indifference? When it climbs to a high enough part of the tree to be heard, I can indeed hear my anger. What’s that? A false reality precipitates false authority? Yet knowing this, hyperforms readily believe wealth confers merit. The exaggerated accumulation of capital is an existential disease assuaged with the delusion of personal success.
A block from the library, I come upon two boys playing in a pile of sand beside a garden. The one boy seems to be trying to burrow inside it, and the other is battering the sand with the flat side of a child-sized metal shovel. He has the wrong shovel for the job, a fact I choose to keep to myself, especially since the one really is trying to thwack the tall pile just as hard as he can. The sort of thing kids do in a spirit of curiosity – what happens to the world when the force of one’s anger is applied to a giant pile of sand? Perhaps the urge to use force for no reason is the human behavior we end up with when ambient energy gets so overabundant. This is what life seems to be – the planet’s novel approach to dissipating heat. We are much more than that, of course, and fortunately, the kids have plenty of time and energy to prove it. Their parents tell them to stop.
When a cicada molts, the effect is more than just a body crawling out of a body – for instance, in the moments before this happens, the cicada is visibly squirming inside its former self, which is permanently clinging to the side of a tree, and all the while, it is feeling the pronounced effect of gravity for the first time in its life, not to mention terrestrial life in the trees, where the sap flows freely and sunshine dances on those giant globular eyes for the first time. Emerging cicadas first do a backbend, then hang upside down by their hind ends, letting the legs, wings and abdomen inflate and adjust to the atmospheric pressure, which pressure gracefully draws the body back to an upright posture. They stay that way, letting their wings inflate, flatten out, stiffen. Veins in the wings were veins, were flesh, before the flesh became the will to fly, a means of saying hello.
Nearer the library, I catch sight of someone squatting in the subsurface terrace of the Unitarian-Universalist peace church – I spot a bedroll and backpack, a forty-ounce can of something cold to drink on such a sweltering day. The guy is leaning against the brick wall, staring into space, and I picture him being the pile of sand from the block before – the one repeatedly hit over the head with the flat side of a shovel. At the library, they’re resetting the furniture after a musical performance. I don’t really know who it was – I just see my favorite librarian thanking someone with a violin case, the sort of hardened case they used to carry machine guns around in, and for a moment I hear the rat-a-tat-tat that stands for the sound of anger overcoming us – but then it becomes that highest cicada, back at the top of her tree, rubbing her wings, building railroads.
The heat on the walk home – neighborhoods still evacuated – is like a drunken horse I’m forced to ride. I can feel my body swaying from side to side a little more than usual, so I try to imagine some other time – for instance, when our bodies will be able to take the heat on a day like today and do something with it – cranial stimulation or micromachines to repair the body or even just a way for the body to stay cool without installing an HVAC system. A crow stops me cold when I hear it imitating the sound of a cicada – it doesn’t have the tone exactly right, but it’s doing the clicks, and I know this is true of crows – they acquire new elements of language from what they hear, and the crows must be hearing female cicadas calling out to the others. What a witness! I call up to the crow – or maybe it’s just got a cicada in its beak. In instant reply, the crow shrieks.
2024.05.20 07:05 cornxoxo1 I made a mistake and may have outed myself as taking testosterone. What should I do?
Hello! I am 20 years old. I don't live with my parents but my parents pay my rent. So still incredibly financially dependent. They also pay for my college and give me allowances for grocery's and things. In fact, I use that allowance to pay for doctor's visit's and my testosterone.
I have a website, a blog I created, to post poems and other personal writings. I made it in highnschool and would share it with close friends. I shared it with my mom. She ended up turning on post notifications so that whenever I post a new entry she would be updated. It was sweet, knowing she wanted to know how I felt about things... In that way.
Then today. She often accidentally genders me correctly. (I have a brother) So I say "He is fine." Almost like i'm warming her up to the idea haha...
I've come out to my family as nonbinary when I was around 16. My mom said she would never call me He.
So today when I said "He is fine." She said "can you stop saying that. I did not give birth to a he, I am not calling you that."
I fought back only slightly. I wasn't planning on nor prepared to come out to her in that moment.
My original plan was to take testosterone and until she started asking questions, say nothing. And when she did start asking questions I planned to answer them truthfully. As by that time the changes would had already really began to take effect.
All that to say, after the incident today. I went to my blog. I wrote something. Titled "You hate me. I know you hate me. You'll hate me once you find out what I've done."
Pretty dramatic lol I know but that's the whole point. I made a space for myself to express myself however I felt necessary. I mention the exact incident (meaning she knows I'm talking about her). One of the lines are "Today I thought I should never tell you. That I practiced voice training instead and just went to the gym a bunch. That will be easier for you. You'll hate me less."
I hit publish. Feeling relieved to have gotten these negative thoughts and emotion's off my chest. As well as honestly rethinking my speak until spoken to policy. Thinking, maybe I should lie for as long as I can.
Then later today I got a notification. Someone was on my website, reading that post. I knew, I instantly remembered. She gets notifications for when I post. I try to quickly delete and block her member profile. Trying to kick her from viewing it. Nothing works. I had set it up a while back so you put in a password before entering the site after a fall out with someone who had access to it, but I guess fot previous members it bypasses that.
Then I heard her walking up the stairs. I knew.
She comes in and closes the door, she never does that, and sit's on my bed. (I'm home for summer)
She tells me that she saw my post and asks if I think that she hates me. I say no, its nuance and that I forgot she got notifications for that. That she wasn't supposed to see it. It's not enough for her. She ask's what I did. I hesitate. I say "I came out as nonbinary before and (don't remember likely giberish) that's what I did is be who I am." I didn't know what to say. I'm not a good liar.
I have only been on testosterone for 5 weeks. I have got to therapy for a couple months discussing my gender and whether or not I wanted to start hormone replacement therapy. I have been contemplating it however, for around a year before starting therapy. I did this all by myself. I decided to tell my brother (37) after going to my consultation. He had his own reservations but he told me he loved me no matter what. He still misgenders me but his hearts in the right place and right now i'll take what I can get. My dad is the quiet type. He doesn't hold a lot of power in our household and is likely quiet because of it. I know i can't rely on him for any impactful support. I also have no idea whether there would be any.
I thought about calling my brother after it happened but he is ignorant on the matter. I don't know the lengths he would go to protect me. I am unsure and that scares me. I don't have any trans friends on HRT who could advise me.
I remember at my consultation my doctor expressed real concern for whether I had a supportive family unit or not. I told him I don't think my mother would could me off or disown me (she's the breadwinner) but thats when I was under the impression that I would have full control over when and how I would tell her.
Now. I am feeling that fear a bit stronger. I am gunning for my PHD in psychology. I live in an apartment near campus. I am extremely privileged. Although, my relationship with my immediate family is extremely dysfunctional it works.
Based off what she read the likely hood is at the very least she has an inkling that I am on T. I ended the conversation by saying I wasn't ready to have this conversation right now and she wasn't meant to read that. I asked her to turn the notifications off :P (stupid, I just didn't know what to do or say).
I drafted the post and made a new website moving everything on to there. I decided I will no longer share that website with anyone. It's for my eyes only. Until I can be sure someone deserves to gain access to its contents.
Anyway, any advice on how I should handle this? Right now we are both leaving to go on separate vacations. So I will be taking my medicine with me and I won't have to worry about her possibly snooping through my things to find out if I am or not. I will likely need to hide my T when I come back. I don't think telling her now is a good idea. I have a therapy appointment next tuesday so I will also ask my therapist for advice. Support or encouragement is also welcome :)
submitted by cornxoxo1 to ftm [link] [comments]
I have a website, a blog I created, to post poems and other personal writings. I made it in highnschool and would share it with close friends. I shared it with my mom. She ended up turning on post notifications so that whenever I post a new entry she would be updated. It was sweet, knowing she wanted to know how I felt about things... In that way.
Then today. She often accidentally genders me correctly. (I have a brother) So I say "He is fine." Almost like i'm warming her up to the idea haha...
I've come out to my family as nonbinary when I was around 16. My mom said she would never call me He.
So today when I said "He is fine." She said "can you stop saying that. I did not give birth to a he, I am not calling you that."
I fought back only slightly. I wasn't planning on nor prepared to come out to her in that moment.
My original plan was to take testosterone and until she started asking questions, say nothing. And when she did start asking questions I planned to answer them truthfully. As by that time the changes would had already really began to take effect.
All that to say, after the incident today. I went to my blog. I wrote something. Titled "You hate me. I know you hate me. You'll hate me once you find out what I've done."
Pretty dramatic lol I know but that's the whole point. I made a space for myself to express myself however I felt necessary. I mention the exact incident (meaning she knows I'm talking about her). One of the lines are "Today I thought I should never tell you. That I practiced voice training instead and just went to the gym a bunch. That will be easier for you. You'll hate me less."
I hit publish. Feeling relieved to have gotten these negative thoughts and emotion's off my chest. As well as honestly rethinking my speak until spoken to policy. Thinking, maybe I should lie for as long as I can.
Then later today I got a notification. Someone was on my website, reading that post. I knew, I instantly remembered. She gets notifications for when I post. I try to quickly delete and block her member profile. Trying to kick her from viewing it. Nothing works. I had set it up a while back so you put in a password before entering the site after a fall out with someone who had access to it, but I guess fot previous members it bypasses that.
Then I heard her walking up the stairs. I knew.
She comes in and closes the door, she never does that, and sit's on my bed. (I'm home for summer)
She tells me that she saw my post and asks if I think that she hates me. I say no, its nuance and that I forgot she got notifications for that. That she wasn't supposed to see it. It's not enough for her. She ask's what I did. I hesitate. I say "I came out as nonbinary before and (don't remember likely giberish) that's what I did is be who I am." I didn't know what to say. I'm not a good liar.
I have only been on testosterone for 5 weeks. I have got to therapy for a couple months discussing my gender and whether or not I wanted to start hormone replacement therapy. I have been contemplating it however, for around a year before starting therapy. I did this all by myself. I decided to tell my brother (37) after going to my consultation. He had his own reservations but he told me he loved me no matter what. He still misgenders me but his hearts in the right place and right now i'll take what I can get. My dad is the quiet type. He doesn't hold a lot of power in our household and is likely quiet because of it. I know i can't rely on him for any impactful support. I also have no idea whether there would be any.
I thought about calling my brother after it happened but he is ignorant on the matter. I don't know the lengths he would go to protect me. I am unsure and that scares me. I don't have any trans friends on HRT who could advise me.
I remember at my consultation my doctor expressed real concern for whether I had a supportive family unit or not. I told him I don't think my mother would could me off or disown me (she's the breadwinner) but thats when I was under the impression that I would have full control over when and how I would tell her.
Now. I am feeling that fear a bit stronger. I am gunning for my PHD in psychology. I live in an apartment near campus. I am extremely privileged. Although, my relationship with my immediate family is extremely dysfunctional it works.
Based off what she read the likely hood is at the very least she has an inkling that I am on T. I ended the conversation by saying I wasn't ready to have this conversation right now and she wasn't meant to read that. I asked her to turn the notifications off :P (stupid, I just didn't know what to do or say).
I drafted the post and made a new website moving everything on to there. I decided I will no longer share that website with anyone. It's for my eyes only. Until I can be sure someone deserves to gain access to its contents.
Anyway, any advice on how I should handle this? Right now we are both leaving to go on separate vacations. So I will be taking my medicine with me and I won't have to worry about her possibly snooping through my things to find out if I am or not. I will likely need to hide my T when I come back. I don't think telling her now is a good idea. I have a therapy appointment next tuesday so I will also ask my therapist for advice. Support or encouragement is also welcome :)
2024.05.20 06:38 ep1grams Coming out, Karma, big cats, Robin...
 | Hello friends. I have only been a gaylor for a fortnight (not a joke, just a fact) so please forgive me if I have misunderstood something or am covering well-tread ground without realising it. I have done a lot of reading and find all this absolutely capitivating. If anything below is even partially right, it is because I stand on the shoulders of the amazing gaylors before me. submitted by ep1grams to GaylorSwift [link] [comments] Look What You Made Me Do Let's start with the Look What You Made Me Do music video (which makes so much more sense when viewed through the lens of you made me shelve the "too-queer" Karma album and take on this line of beards). When Taylor starts singing "Look what you made me do" for the first time, she crashes a car with a big cat inside it. She is also wearing a coat with a big cat pattern. There has been talk of this car crash being Karlie. Car = KARlie. Although that may be an extra layer, I believe that the predominant message here is that the car is Karma. Car = KARma. She crashes the car (shelves Karma) and then poses artificially for the press (for success, to protect her reputation). (I know the album was about her "bad reputation", but in light of shelving Karma, it was also about maintaining her reputation as a straight person.) Later, Taylor walks away from the crashed car (which is now in flames) with the big cat on a leash (chain?). Big cats have been discussed as being symbolic of Taylor's wild, queer self, which I agree with. Karma the car (with the big cat in the backseat - Taylor's queerness) was crashed, but Taylor and the big cat walk away from the crash - she is still queer, even if that queerness is on a leash / contained. Fortnight Several years later, in Fortnight, Taylor sings about going to Florida and buying the car she wants (i.e. releasing Karma). It won't start up until you "touch me" (i.e. until ME! Out now! ... meaning Karma will be released once / at the same as she comes out). And until she "touch[es] you", which is widely regarded as her queemasculine self as represented in the Fortnight music video. Karma/Mother There has been mention of Taylor's new, queer, reincarnation-of-Karma album being called "Mother" instead. We would expect this incarnation of the album to be a bit different to the original, given that time has passed and that some of the original Karma tracks are likely to have come out on Reputation or other released albums. So... If she crashed the caKar during Reputation era, what is left? The ma. "Ma" as in another word for "Mother". More Big Cats & Robin Speaking of releasing... As well as releasing music/albums, etc, you know what else can be released? Big cats. Circus animals. Tigers in cages. I wouldn't be surprised if Karma the album had a bunch of big cat imagery. It also reminds me of this poem: The tiger is OUT, huh? Tortured Poets Department has a bunch of wild animal imagery, but I specifically want to talk about the song "Robin" and its tiger. It makes perfect sense to me that this is not a song about a small child being protected, but instead about a young Taylor being "protected" from the "cruel and the mean" via "the secret we all vowed to keep" "in sweetness." i.e. Eventually "the time will arrive" for Taylor to come out, but not yet - for her own good, and in the meantime we need "all this showmanship". On the surface it sounds like a sweet song, but to me Taylor sounds vaguely sad and resentful. "Way to go tiger / Higher and higher" is Taylor being pushed more and more before she's allowed to come out. The goal posts keep moving. Taylor keeps working and working, keeps expecting to be able to come out, but it hasn't happened yet ("I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser"). The tiger in its cage does its best to perform to these rising "strings tied to levers", but it's still not set free. As an aside, the vibe of this song really reminds me of "It's Nice to Have a Friend." At first glance they're sweet songs but with bitter undercurrents. It doesn't surprise me at all that "It's Nice to Have a Friend" was used on a horror music soundtrack. It reminds me of the stress of having a "friend" when you're queer, like being introduced to your girlfriend's grandmother as "so-and-so's friend". Meet Me at Midnight I was listening to Anti-Hero the other day and something went "ping!" in my brain when hearing "Midnights become my afternoons." As well as the literal meaning of someone staying up late, this sounds to me as if this references Taylor's 'meet me at midnight, that's when my authentic self will come out' being delayed. Like the clock was almost to midnight and then someone took it off the wall, spun it 180 degrees, and then put it back on the wall like that. Like I was about to come out but now suddenly it's 6pm again, I have to wait and wait. This also makes me think of Taylor's clear Cinderella reference in Bejewelled. You know what happens to Cinderella at midnight? She turns back from princess-like (Taylor Swift TM) into a more 'ordinary' human being (authentic self). But in Taylor's version (small v) at midnight she also ghosts the prince (stops bearding) and keeps the castle (keeps her fame/money/success/legacy). I can't wait until the 12th/midnight album comes out / gets released / gets its teeth back! |
2024.05.20 04:48 Salt-Box-3550 Help type me based on this
I've taken multiple tests and want to know exactly what type I am. I'd like an extra opinion on what potential types I might have, as I'm not sure if what results I am getting are due to me wanting to be a certain type and a certain person, and if I am an unbiased enough source. I'm not even sure if my answers to the questionnaire are the most reliable, especially since I have a bad recollection of what I've thought of in the past or my behaviors, and I have a memory that is not ideal in certain areas. On tests, I've gotten INTP, ENTP, and I have a feeling INFP and ENFP might be strong contenders.
submitted by Salt-Box-3550 to MbtiTypeMe [link] [comments]
- How old are you? What's your gender? Give us a general description of yourself.
- Is there a medical diagnosis that impact your mental/comportamental stability somehow?
- If you had to spend an entire weekend by yourself, how would you feel? Would you feel lonely or refreshed?
- What is your relation with movement and your surroundings? For instance do you prefer a sport or outdoors event? If an outdoors event what is it? And why? If not what type of activities do you tend to engage in?
- How curious are you? Do you have more ideas then you can execute? What are your curiosities about? What are your ideas about - is it environmental or conceptual, and can you please elaborate?
- Would you enjoy taking on a leadership position? Do you think you would be good at it? What would your leadership style be?
- Are you coordinated? Why do you feel as if you are or are not? Do you enjoy working with your hands in some form? Describe your activity?
- Are you artistic? If yes, describe your art? If you are not particularly artistic but can appreciate art please likewise describe what forums of art you enjoy. Please explain your answer.
- What's your opinion about the past, present, and future? How do you deal with them?
- How do you act when others request your help to do something (anything)? If you would decide to help them, why would you do so?
- Do you need logical consistency in your life?
- How important is efficiency and productivity to you?
- Do you control others, even if indirectly? How and why do you do that?
- What are your hobbies? Why do you like them?
- What is your learning style? What kind of learning environments do you struggle with most? Why do you like/struggle with these learning styles? Do you prefer classes involving memorization, logic, creativity, or your physical senses?
- How good are you at strategizing? Do you easily break up projects into manageable tasks? Or do you have a tendency to wing projects and improvise as you go?
- What's important to you and why?
- What are your fears? What makes you uncomfortable? What do you hate? Why?
- What do the "highs" in your life look like?
- What do the "lows" in your life look like?
- How attached are you to reality? Do you daydream often, or do you pay attention to what's around you? If you do daydream, are you aware of your surroundings while you do so?
- Imagine you are alone in a blank, empty room. There is nothing for you to do and no one to talk to. What do you think about?
- How long do you take to make an important decision? And do you change your mind once you've made it?
- How long do you take to process your emotions? How important are emotions in your life?
- Do you ever catch yourself agreeing with others just to appease them and keep the conversation going? How often? Why?
- Do you break rules often? Do you think authority should be challenged, or that they know better? If you do break rules, why would you?
2024.05.20 04:38 MetisMaheo [POEM] On Turning Ten by Billy Collins
![[POEM] On Turning Ten by Billy Collins](https://preview.redd.it/jjpu8iwcze1d1.jpeg?width=640&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=c6b02df373c18d6970f4f0059ebe582042e01974 "[POEM] On Turning Ten by Billy Collins") | submitted by MetisMaheo to u/MetisMaheo [link] [comments] |
2024.05.20 04:26 DeatonationgGrenade Anastasius Chapter 4
When Quicktalon finally woke up, his heart leaped to his throat as he noticed that the sun was beginning to set. A gruff voice chuckled to his alarm before he could act on his sudden panic, “Sit down, you crazy ostrich. You’re fine. Achira has been taken care of, the fire lit, and your dinner is near the fire to keep warm.” Quicktalon froze at the new voice, slowly turning towards the owner of this new visitor, but his eyes seemed to have been playing tricks on him. His brother Fleet was nearby and changing his sister’s bandages.
“Fleet?” he asked softly, his eyes still wide at seeing his battle-scarred brother. “H-how are you here?! The search party for the missing Drakes and Dragons left months ago!” he exclaimed, a grin growing as happy tears began to warm his eyes. It had been far too long since he had last seen his brother. “Well, we were on our way back from the most northern searches, and we found a few traces of what could have happened, but we need to send out another search party after we Rest and replenish our supplies. But I have heard the great news!” Fleet said as he hugged his brother, “ I’m so proud of you!” He exclaimed, pulling his brother into a hug, “I can’t believe you’ve grown so much from that little drake who never left our grandmother's side and always got into scrapes from running too fast.” He laughed softly.
Quicktalon chuckled at his brother’s lighthearted jesting, “ Grandmother always made healing fun and exciting, and I wanted to be able to follow in her talon steps and help those who helped us when we were little drakelings.” He said with a smile, “But now, I have a chance to truly save dragonkind from this dangerous threat, hopefully with getting this information out to the world and traveling to Scholar’s Whispering Peak, I can also get more information on what happened to our Grandmother and hopefully what had happened to our parents all those years ago.”
A smile ghosted Fleet's lips. He knew that something had happened to his grandmother; they had the signs and were Grandmother her. But the more his troop searched, and the more evidence was uncovered, the more serious this strange tail became. He hadn’t mentioned it yet to their pack leader. Still, Drakes across the savanna were going missing, some dragons and even the notoriously hidden Arctic dragons.
Dozens of Dragons of all kinds were going missing. The Sea Orcs were the only ones who witnessed this strange occurrence. They were too big for anything to happen to them, but the cause of the disappearing dragons needed to be uncovered and solved before the giant sea dragons began to disappear. But Fleet couldn’t ruin his brother’s excitement and joy over this. So, for now, he kept quiet and continued praising his brother for his magnificent discovery.
“I need to start getting ready. I’ve got a big trip ahead of me. I need to pack plenty of supplies and ensure I have enough to trade for a thick fur cover to protect me from the freezing temperatures at the summit of the Scholars Whispering Peak.” Quicktalon said, “I can’t wait to be able to spend more time with you and Achira as soon as she fully recovers from the effects of the viper.” He explained with a soft chuckle, “ but I will be back soon, hopefully before winter settles over the lands, which, with it being the middle of New Life, I should have time to make it to the coast and get assistance through the ocean and onto the nearest coastline on the other side.”
Fleet looked concerned at the plan his brother had just explained. " Are you sure that is safe? I’ve met traveling Sea Orcs and been told how long and perilous a journey across the sea can be for Drakes and Dragons of our size!” Fleet explained fear etched deep into his face as he couldn’t imagine his little brother in the middle of a raging and violent sea. “ It would be better to travel on land. You’d get there much safer and without the risk of your research getting ruined from the sea's moisture.”
Quicktalon took a moment to consider. Is a trip like that more manageable? Would it be safer to traverse land rather than sea? “Are there any maps I can get? Can you help me figure out a quick and safe journey from our home to the Scholars Whispering Peak? If the sea is too dangerous, I will need to figure out a different way to get to the scholars and hopefully get there before the snow season starts.” He said, “Do you know if the pack to our North sells maps of the continent and trade routes I could follow?” He asked while moving to a chest with chunks of gold and jewels he could trade for a map. He even wrote quick instructions for effectively healing and removing the venom from the bite of an Orid Viper. Fleet watched as his brother gathered enough items for trade; each pack had different trade requirements depending on the situation and status.
“Do you remember what they ask for trade?” Quicktalon asked as he set his collected gems and precious metals into a small side pouch strapped to his front right upper forearm. Fleet thought momentarily and tried to remember when his troop had last passed through the pack to the North. “ I believe they take both jewels and food, so we might want to stop and catch something for them to eat on our way over to the North Pack,” Fleet said as he sharpened his dull talons on a nearby rock, “ a water buffalo perhaps would be a good trade-off.” He said, “with the upcoming heat wave, they might appreciate more food for their youngins.”
“Then it's settled. Let's head to the North Pack and trade for a map for a trade route to Scholars Whispering Peak.” Quicktalon said, ensuring his research was set somewhere safe and out of the way of any potential spills or papyrus-eating worms. “Let’s go. The hottest part of the day is over for now, and the animals should be coming back from mid-day hibernation so we can snag a water buffalo on the way to them,” Quicktalon said while moving to give his sister healing wound a quick check-over. Once everything was in good shape, Quicktalon and Fleet left the medical hut. They began their journey to the North Pack and hopefully snagged a water buffalo on the way toward their destination.
Both brothers carefully left the medical hut and began looking around Earthquake to tell him where they were heading and their plan for QuickTalon to get to the Scholars Whispering peaks before winter hit. It wasn’t too hard to find the elder drake, as he was once again leading the younger drakes in battle practice for the potential war that seemed to be whispering on the horizon. “WATCH YOUR TALONS! FOR MOTHER DRAKE’S SAKE HEATSTROKE, DUCK! USE YOUR FIRE!” Earthquake shouted, drilling the almost grown drakes in new and much faster battle techniques. “Things must be getting worse if Earthquake is so worried about what’s been happening. It worries me.” Fleet murmured to QuickTalon, fear and worry evident on his face as he watched the young drakes practice their battle maneuvers as if they were currently fighting the actual enemy.
The mock battle went on for what felt like an eternity before Earthquake called for the young drakes to take a break and get a drink of water. “ Freshen up! Get a drink and take a moment to breathe! You must keep practicing if we ever need to go to war against this new and unknown enemy!” He commanded while walking over to see what QuickTalon and Fleet wanted to discuss. “ Welcome back, Fleet, and I’m happy to see that your search troop all came back with no casualties.” He said in greeting, “But what can I do for you both? I can see that there is something you both wish to tell me.” He said while peering down his snout at the younger of the group, “We plan to head to the northern pack and trade something of value for a trade route map to the Scholars Whispering Peaks. The initial route is dangerous, and the humid air could ruin my research.” QuickTalon explained, “With the scorching season rolling in, we thought bringing a water buffalo to trade for a map would be helpful.”
Earthquake seemed impressed by the current plan, “ while that is a good idea, the Northern Pack have been plagued recently by attacks from humans, or at least what seems to be left of that species; if you want to help, I’m sure food, water and medical attention will benefit them most.” He explained, “ but you both have my permission to go to the Northern Pack, just come back here, and I’ll help get you an assistant to stand in your place as a healer until your return.” Earthquake said, a smile gently ghosting across his snout, “now go on little ones, the sun is getting ready to set, and the water buffalo will be out to graze and drink at the nearby watering holes.” “Yes, sir, we will be back within three days,” QuickTalon said with a nod as he and his brother were dismissed and permitted to head off toward the Northern Pack.
With the dry dirt and plants crunching under their talons, QuickTalon turned and followed Fleet toward the Northern pack. “If humans are attacking them, what should we do if we see one?” QuickTalon asked after a long pause in the conversation, “Well,” Fleet started as if trying to recall a memory, “ my commander said that if you see a human, to kill on sight. While most humans are not dangerous to us as adults, they still threaten our young and elderly.” He explained, “Although I have yet to see a human, I have heard conflicting reports and statements about humans. Some are nice and have been seen helping others and the environment we live in, and some are on constant paths of destruction, burning, and taking like the worst of us dragons. Filled with greed and the never-ending satisfaction that they will never have enough stuff to put into their horde, they kill everything on their path to get what they want.”
QuickTalon’s eyes widened in both fascination and absolute horror at what he was hearing, and he had never realized that something so small and without fire or claws or just something to defend itself could be so destructive. “ But, is there a way to tell which ones are good and bad? Surely all of them can’t be rotten, can they?” He asked, jumping in fright when a breaking twig cracked nearby. “I’m sure there is, but for now, we’ve been told to just kill on sight.” He said softly, “ I know you want to help save the world, but you must remember, QuickTalon, that not everyone can or wants to be saved. You will need to know when to save yourself, and don’t let those who want to drown pull you under with them.” He said, eyes staring off into the distance, seeming to be looking at or hearing something out in the distance that only he could see. Quicktalon wasn’t sure how to respond to his brother’s worries. He was worried that his brother might know something more about this dangerous situation than he did, but he knew that he needed to keep his head clear and his eyes forward during this difficult time. “Brother, I know you are worried and want to find Grandmother, but spiraling off into the unknowns and the shadows will not help us find her. I believe in you and the others, but you need to take a breath and remind yourself where you are and your focus.” Quicktalon said, listening intensely to his surroundings while following his brother North. “ We will find Grandmother and the other missing Drakes, but for now, we need to rest our worried minds to start with a clean slate in the morning. If we let our brains become muddled, we could miss important details. So for now, let's just rest our heads and worry about finding a water buffalo and getting a map.”
Fleet sighed deeply, “You’re right, brother. Worrying about all the what-ifs has been muddling my mind. I’ve been so stressed over all of the potential possibilities I have lost the main focus of my mission. To bring the lost and the missing home.” He said, shaking his head ever so slightly as if trying to clear his head from the dark thoughts that had muddled his brain for many years. “ But I agree, let us get that water buffalo and trade for the map. Once we return and rest, my troop and I will follow you to the first trading post and head toward the North. Perhaps we might meet again on your journey.” Fleet hummed softly before snapping his gaze towards the direction of something he had heard. “Shh, I hear something!” He whispered while dropping into a low crouch and moving almost silently through the tall brush and grass toward the sound he had heard.
Quicktalon did the same and followed his brothers' movements. The grass hissed and crunched softly under their talons as they approached the top of a small hill. With careful movements, the brothers peered over the hill. The water buffalo migration had begun, and thousands of bison were resting around the large pond. “ The migration.” Quicktalon murmured, “Would it hurt if we managed to grab a few bison for the Northern pack?” He asked, “ I don’t know how many drakes are in the Northern Pack, but with the hot season approaching, maybe it would help to bring them a few bison to preserve before the migration leaves?” He asked if he knew they needed to preserve the circle of life, but he had no idea what the status of this other pack could be since it had been at least forty years since he had last seen the pack at the semi-annual Drake packs meet-up.
“Perhaps, although I don’t want to end up overwhelming the Northern pack with food. But I agree, with the scorching season approaching, packs will need as much food as possible.” Fleet murmured while slowly dropping into a hunter's crouch, “ I will go for the two deep in the water. You grab the one heading out.” He instructed, to which Quicktalon agreed. He adjusted his satchel and ensured his research was safe before waiting for his brother's signal. With a hiss, Fleet shot over the hill, running as fast as he found towards the two water buffalo in the water. Grunts, groans, and high-pitched bellows filled the air as the water buffalo panicked and ran away from the large drakes.
Thunderous hooves and cries filled the air as the buffalo pushed and shoved into each other while fighting to escape the predators. Quicktalon narrowed his eyes, planted all four talons to the ground, and lunged at the water buffalo. The bison bellowed in fear and swung its head, trying to gore Quicktalon with its horns, but with a sharp turn of his body, he narrowly managed to avoid the deadly horn and sink his teeth into the back of the buffalo’s neck. The buffalo’s wails increased before being silenced with a loud crack, its body falling limp in Quicktalon’s jaws and its head rolling loosely. Loud splashing drew the younger drakes' attention; the second water buffalo ganged up on his brother. With a roar of anger, Quicktalon dropped his fresh kill and thundered through the water toward the second buffalo. The second buffalo barely had time to react before Quicktalon threw himself on the bison’s back and began pulling on its horns to steer it away from his brother.
The bison bellowed angrily and bucked as hard as possible, trying to throw the younger drake off. But Quicktalon held on tight, and with an angry snarl, he gripped the horns tightly in his talons, and with a harsh twist and a loud snap, the bison’s neck was broken. The bison collapsed into the water with a splash. Quicktalon was breathing hard as he tried to catch his breath after such a stressful moment. Fleet growled as he finally managed to take down his water buffalo, “ Fleet, are you okay?” Quicktalon asked, moving through the water, the muddled water sloshing around his talons.
“ I—I’m okay, I just… need to catch my breath.” Fleet panted as he caught his breath. I don’t know why that was so difficult. It shouldn’t have been.” He panted while pushing himself up and moving to collect the two limp water bison. “Let’s get these to the North Pack. We are almost there.” He said while letting Quicktalon assist him with lifting the two freshly killed bison onto his back. “Alright, but as soon as you need to take a break, let me know,” Quicktalon said as he walked over to the water buffalo he killed and hoisted it onto his back.
Fleet nodded in agreement, and the two began the final leg of their trek toward the Northern pack. Crickets began to chirp and sing as the sun set, lighting the sky in a brilliant mixture of pinks, reds, and oranges. Quicktalon smiled, stared at the beautiful sky, and grew even more excited when the fireflies lit up and danced around the land. “ You’ve always enjoyed this time of year, haven’t you?” Fleet asked with a smile, “ I do. The beautiful sunsets, the lightning bugs, and the soft songs of crickets. It always brings me joy.” Quicktalon replied with a happy smile in return. “Whenever I am scared, I think of nights like this to help calm me down.” He explained with a soft chuckle, “Grandmother even painted me a painting of one of these nights. I still treasure that painting the most.” He said, reminiscing about when his grandmother gifted him the painting of his favorite sunset.
“We will find her, Quicktalon, I promise,” Fleet said as he gently shouldered his brother with a soft sigh. “ I know, Fleet, but I’m still worried. She vanished without a trace.” He said softly, shifting the weight of water buffalo on his back to accommodate for the extra weight. “ I believe you brother, but, I still cant’t believe that someone or something like this could have happened.” He murmured, “although I do hope that we can figure out what has happened and we can bring our grandmother home.” Quicktalon said as he tried to enjoy his favorite evening.
Fleet nodded, “ well, we are almost to the Northern Pack, hopefully they have something that can help.” He said, nodding his head towards the approaching lights in the distance, “ good, hopefully they can help.” Quicktalon sighed before a set of drakes in heavy armor thundered towards them, anger written on their faces. “HALT!” One of the guards roared. “W-whats going on?” Quicktalons asked, unsure of why the guards were so angry. “ Your grandmother and her pack of drakes destroyed our village!”
submitted by DeatonationgGrenade to WyrmWorks [link] [comments]
“Fleet?” he asked softly, his eyes still wide at seeing his battle-scarred brother. “H-how are you here?! The search party for the missing Drakes and Dragons left months ago!” he exclaimed, a grin growing as happy tears began to warm his eyes. It had been far too long since he had last seen his brother. “Well, we were on our way back from the most northern searches, and we found a few traces of what could have happened, but we need to send out another search party after we Rest and replenish our supplies. But I have heard the great news!” Fleet said as he hugged his brother, “ I’m so proud of you!” He exclaimed, pulling his brother into a hug, “I can’t believe you’ve grown so much from that little drake who never left our grandmother's side and always got into scrapes from running too fast.” He laughed softly.
Quicktalon chuckled at his brother’s lighthearted jesting, “ Grandmother always made healing fun and exciting, and I wanted to be able to follow in her talon steps and help those who helped us when we were little drakelings.” He said with a smile, “But now, I have a chance to truly save dragonkind from this dangerous threat, hopefully with getting this information out to the world and traveling to Scholar’s Whispering Peak, I can also get more information on what happened to our Grandmother and hopefully what had happened to our parents all those years ago.”
A smile ghosted Fleet's lips. He knew that something had happened to his grandmother; they had the signs and were Grandmother her. But the more his troop searched, and the more evidence was uncovered, the more serious this strange tail became. He hadn’t mentioned it yet to their pack leader. Still, Drakes across the savanna were going missing, some dragons and even the notoriously hidden Arctic dragons.
Dozens of Dragons of all kinds were going missing. The Sea Orcs were the only ones who witnessed this strange occurrence. They were too big for anything to happen to them, but the cause of the disappearing dragons needed to be uncovered and solved before the giant sea dragons began to disappear. But Fleet couldn’t ruin his brother’s excitement and joy over this. So, for now, he kept quiet and continued praising his brother for his magnificent discovery.
“I need to start getting ready. I’ve got a big trip ahead of me. I need to pack plenty of supplies and ensure I have enough to trade for a thick fur cover to protect me from the freezing temperatures at the summit of the Scholars Whispering Peak.” Quicktalon said, “I can’t wait to be able to spend more time with you and Achira as soon as she fully recovers from the effects of the viper.” He explained with a soft chuckle, “ but I will be back soon, hopefully before winter settles over the lands, which, with it being the middle of New Life, I should have time to make it to the coast and get assistance through the ocean and onto the nearest coastline on the other side.”
Fleet looked concerned at the plan his brother had just explained. " Are you sure that is safe? I’ve met traveling Sea Orcs and been told how long and perilous a journey across the sea can be for Drakes and Dragons of our size!” Fleet explained fear etched deep into his face as he couldn’t imagine his little brother in the middle of a raging and violent sea. “ It would be better to travel on land. You’d get there much safer and without the risk of your research getting ruined from the sea's moisture.”
Quicktalon took a moment to consider. Is a trip like that more manageable? Would it be safer to traverse land rather than sea? “Are there any maps I can get? Can you help me figure out a quick and safe journey from our home to the Scholars Whispering Peak? If the sea is too dangerous, I will need to figure out a different way to get to the scholars and hopefully get there before the snow season starts.” He said, “Do you know if the pack to our North sells maps of the continent and trade routes I could follow?” He asked while moving to a chest with chunks of gold and jewels he could trade for a map. He even wrote quick instructions for effectively healing and removing the venom from the bite of an Orid Viper. Fleet watched as his brother gathered enough items for trade; each pack had different trade requirements depending on the situation and status.
“Do you remember what they ask for trade?” Quicktalon asked as he set his collected gems and precious metals into a small side pouch strapped to his front right upper forearm. Fleet thought momentarily and tried to remember when his troop had last passed through the pack to the North. “ I believe they take both jewels and food, so we might want to stop and catch something for them to eat on our way over to the North Pack,” Fleet said as he sharpened his dull talons on a nearby rock, “ a water buffalo perhaps would be a good trade-off.” He said, “with the upcoming heat wave, they might appreciate more food for their youngins.”
“Then it's settled. Let's head to the North Pack and trade for a map for a trade route to Scholars Whispering Peak.” Quicktalon said, ensuring his research was set somewhere safe and out of the way of any potential spills or papyrus-eating worms. “Let’s go. The hottest part of the day is over for now, and the animals should be coming back from mid-day hibernation so we can snag a water buffalo on the way to them,” Quicktalon said while moving to give his sister healing wound a quick check-over. Once everything was in good shape, Quicktalon and Fleet left the medical hut. They began their journey to the North Pack and hopefully snagged a water buffalo on the way toward their destination.
Both brothers carefully left the medical hut and began looking around Earthquake to tell him where they were heading and their plan for QuickTalon to get to the Scholars Whispering peaks before winter hit. It wasn’t too hard to find the elder drake, as he was once again leading the younger drakes in battle practice for the potential war that seemed to be whispering on the horizon. “WATCH YOUR TALONS! FOR MOTHER DRAKE’S SAKE HEATSTROKE, DUCK! USE YOUR FIRE!” Earthquake shouted, drilling the almost grown drakes in new and much faster battle techniques. “Things must be getting worse if Earthquake is so worried about what’s been happening. It worries me.” Fleet murmured to QuickTalon, fear and worry evident on his face as he watched the young drakes practice their battle maneuvers as if they were currently fighting the actual enemy.
The mock battle went on for what felt like an eternity before Earthquake called for the young drakes to take a break and get a drink of water. “ Freshen up! Get a drink and take a moment to breathe! You must keep practicing if we ever need to go to war against this new and unknown enemy!” He commanded while walking over to see what QuickTalon and Fleet wanted to discuss. “ Welcome back, Fleet, and I’m happy to see that your search troop all came back with no casualties.” He said in greeting, “But what can I do for you both? I can see that there is something you both wish to tell me.” He said while peering down his snout at the younger of the group, “We plan to head to the northern pack and trade something of value for a trade route map to the Scholars Whispering Peaks. The initial route is dangerous, and the humid air could ruin my research.” QuickTalon explained, “With the scorching season rolling in, we thought bringing a water buffalo to trade for a map would be helpful.”
Earthquake seemed impressed by the current plan, “ while that is a good idea, the Northern Pack have been plagued recently by attacks from humans, or at least what seems to be left of that species; if you want to help, I’m sure food, water and medical attention will benefit them most.” He explained, “ but you both have my permission to go to the Northern Pack, just come back here, and I’ll help get you an assistant to stand in your place as a healer until your return.” Earthquake said, a smile gently ghosting across his snout, “now go on little ones, the sun is getting ready to set, and the water buffalo will be out to graze and drink at the nearby watering holes.” “Yes, sir, we will be back within three days,” QuickTalon said with a nod as he and his brother were dismissed and permitted to head off toward the Northern Pack.
With the dry dirt and plants crunching under their talons, QuickTalon turned and followed Fleet toward the Northern pack. “If humans are attacking them, what should we do if we see one?” QuickTalon asked after a long pause in the conversation, “Well,” Fleet started as if trying to recall a memory, “ my commander said that if you see a human, to kill on sight. While most humans are not dangerous to us as adults, they still threaten our young and elderly.” He explained, “Although I have yet to see a human, I have heard conflicting reports and statements about humans. Some are nice and have been seen helping others and the environment we live in, and some are on constant paths of destruction, burning, and taking like the worst of us dragons. Filled with greed and the never-ending satisfaction that they will never have enough stuff to put into their horde, they kill everything on their path to get what they want.”
QuickTalon’s eyes widened in both fascination and absolute horror at what he was hearing, and he had never realized that something so small and without fire or claws or just something to defend itself could be so destructive. “ But, is there a way to tell which ones are good and bad? Surely all of them can’t be rotten, can they?” He asked, jumping in fright when a breaking twig cracked nearby. “I’m sure there is, but for now, we’ve been told to just kill on sight.” He said softly, “ I know you want to help save the world, but you must remember, QuickTalon, that not everyone can or wants to be saved. You will need to know when to save yourself, and don’t let those who want to drown pull you under with them.” He said, eyes staring off into the distance, seeming to be looking at or hearing something out in the distance that only he could see. Quicktalon wasn’t sure how to respond to his brother’s worries. He was worried that his brother might know something more about this dangerous situation than he did, but he knew that he needed to keep his head clear and his eyes forward during this difficult time. “Brother, I know you are worried and want to find Grandmother, but spiraling off into the unknowns and the shadows will not help us find her. I believe in you and the others, but you need to take a breath and remind yourself where you are and your focus.” Quicktalon said, listening intensely to his surroundings while following his brother North. “ We will find Grandmother and the other missing Drakes, but for now, we need to rest our worried minds to start with a clean slate in the morning. If we let our brains become muddled, we could miss important details. So for now, let's just rest our heads and worry about finding a water buffalo and getting a map.”
Fleet sighed deeply, “You’re right, brother. Worrying about all the what-ifs has been muddling my mind. I’ve been so stressed over all of the potential possibilities I have lost the main focus of my mission. To bring the lost and the missing home.” He said, shaking his head ever so slightly as if trying to clear his head from the dark thoughts that had muddled his brain for many years. “ But I agree, let us get that water buffalo and trade for the map. Once we return and rest, my troop and I will follow you to the first trading post and head toward the North. Perhaps we might meet again on your journey.” Fleet hummed softly before snapping his gaze towards the direction of something he had heard. “Shh, I hear something!” He whispered while dropping into a low crouch and moving almost silently through the tall brush and grass toward the sound he had heard.
Quicktalon did the same and followed his brothers' movements. The grass hissed and crunched softly under their talons as they approached the top of a small hill. With careful movements, the brothers peered over the hill. The water buffalo migration had begun, and thousands of bison were resting around the large pond. “ The migration.” Quicktalon murmured, “Would it hurt if we managed to grab a few bison for the Northern pack?” He asked, “ I don’t know how many drakes are in the Northern Pack, but with the hot season approaching, maybe it would help to bring them a few bison to preserve before the migration leaves?” He asked if he knew they needed to preserve the circle of life, but he had no idea what the status of this other pack could be since it had been at least forty years since he had last seen the pack at the semi-annual Drake packs meet-up.
“Perhaps, although I don’t want to end up overwhelming the Northern pack with food. But I agree, with the scorching season approaching, packs will need as much food as possible.” Fleet murmured while slowly dropping into a hunter's crouch, “ I will go for the two deep in the water. You grab the one heading out.” He instructed, to which Quicktalon agreed. He adjusted his satchel and ensured his research was safe before waiting for his brother's signal. With a hiss, Fleet shot over the hill, running as fast as he found towards the two water buffalo in the water. Grunts, groans, and high-pitched bellows filled the air as the water buffalo panicked and ran away from the large drakes.
Thunderous hooves and cries filled the air as the buffalo pushed and shoved into each other while fighting to escape the predators. Quicktalon narrowed his eyes, planted all four talons to the ground, and lunged at the water buffalo. The bison bellowed in fear and swung its head, trying to gore Quicktalon with its horns, but with a sharp turn of his body, he narrowly managed to avoid the deadly horn and sink his teeth into the back of the buffalo’s neck. The buffalo’s wails increased before being silenced with a loud crack, its body falling limp in Quicktalon’s jaws and its head rolling loosely. Loud splashing drew the younger drakes' attention; the second water buffalo ganged up on his brother. With a roar of anger, Quicktalon dropped his fresh kill and thundered through the water toward the second buffalo. The second buffalo barely had time to react before Quicktalon threw himself on the bison’s back and began pulling on its horns to steer it away from his brother.
The bison bellowed angrily and bucked as hard as possible, trying to throw the younger drake off. But Quicktalon held on tight, and with an angry snarl, he gripped the horns tightly in his talons, and with a harsh twist and a loud snap, the bison’s neck was broken. The bison collapsed into the water with a splash. Quicktalon was breathing hard as he tried to catch his breath after such a stressful moment. Fleet growled as he finally managed to take down his water buffalo, “ Fleet, are you okay?” Quicktalon asked, moving through the water, the muddled water sloshing around his talons.
“ I—I’m okay, I just… need to catch my breath.” Fleet panted as he caught his breath. I don’t know why that was so difficult. It shouldn’t have been.” He panted while pushing himself up and moving to collect the two limp water bison. “Let’s get these to the North Pack. We are almost there.” He said while letting Quicktalon assist him with lifting the two freshly killed bison onto his back. “Alright, but as soon as you need to take a break, let me know,” Quicktalon said as he walked over to the water buffalo he killed and hoisted it onto his back.
Fleet nodded in agreement, and the two began the final leg of their trek toward the Northern pack. Crickets began to chirp and sing as the sun set, lighting the sky in a brilliant mixture of pinks, reds, and oranges. Quicktalon smiled, stared at the beautiful sky, and grew even more excited when the fireflies lit up and danced around the land. “ You’ve always enjoyed this time of year, haven’t you?” Fleet asked with a smile, “ I do. The beautiful sunsets, the lightning bugs, and the soft songs of crickets. It always brings me joy.” Quicktalon replied with a happy smile in return. “Whenever I am scared, I think of nights like this to help calm me down.” He explained with a soft chuckle, “Grandmother even painted me a painting of one of these nights. I still treasure that painting the most.” He said, reminiscing about when his grandmother gifted him the painting of his favorite sunset.
“We will find her, Quicktalon, I promise,” Fleet said as he gently shouldered his brother with a soft sigh. “ I know, Fleet, but I’m still worried. She vanished without a trace.” He said softly, shifting the weight of water buffalo on his back to accommodate for the extra weight. “ I believe you brother, but, I still cant’t believe that someone or something like this could have happened.” He murmured, “although I do hope that we can figure out what has happened and we can bring our grandmother home.” Quicktalon said as he tried to enjoy his favorite evening.
Fleet nodded, “ well, we are almost to the Northern Pack, hopefully they have something that can help.” He said, nodding his head towards the approaching lights in the distance, “ good, hopefully they can help.” Quicktalon sighed before a set of drakes in heavy armor thundered towards them, anger written on their faces. “HALT!” One of the guards roared. “W-whats going on?” Quicktalons asked, unsure of why the guards were so angry. “ Your grandmother and her pack of drakes destroyed our village!”
2024.05.20 04:21 HiCFlashinFruitPunch I got bored and wrote this about TPAB to send to my friends…
(The post is slightly altered because the original text was more personal and directed at my friend)
All of this is stuff you’ve already heard before so this is just my personal looks at the album, its meaning, and why it’s probably the best rap album we’ll ever see.
If you have listened to TPAB all the way through then you remember that in the final track, Mortal Man, it’s Kendrick and someone else talking. I put this together and it’s just the conversation they have so you can easily read it and see who is talking when.
This is how I interpret albums meaning: TPAB is about the issues that African Americans will face due to the neglect of the U.S. government. The idea of the butterfly is a person who has become famous, or has power. That’s why in tracks like Wesley’s Theory, the opening track, the person talking says, “When the four corners of this cocoon collide You'll slip through the cracks hopin' that you'll survive Gather your weight, take a deep look inside Are you really who they idolize? To pimp a butterfly.” A butterfly is a transformed caterpillar, so in TPAB the idea of a caterpillar is someone who the government, or really anyone for that matter, doesn’t care about. Once they become famous (transform) and have power, they are treated better or like a butterfly.
Also, fun fact about TPAB that you prob already know. The original title was going to be “To Pimp a Caterpillar.” This was because it would then abbreviate to “2PAC” instead of TPAB.
Now for the conversation:
Kendrick: “I remember you was conflicted, misusing your influence. Sometimes I did the same, abusing my power full of resentment. Found myself screaming in a hotel room. I didn’t wanna self destruct. The evils of Lucy was all around me, so I went running for answers. Until I came home, but that didn’t stop survivors guilt. Going back and forth, trying to convince myself the stripes I earned, or maybe how A-1 my foundation was. But while my loved ones were fighting a continuous war back in the dirty, I was entering a new one. A war that was based on apartheid and discrimination. Made me wanna go back to the city and tell the homies what I learned, the word was respect. Just because you wore a different gang color than mine's doesn't mean I can't respect you as a black man. Forgetting all the pain and hurt we caused each other in these streets. If I respect you, we unify and stop the enemy from killing us, but I don't know, I'm no mortal man, maybe I'm just another n*. Shit and that's all I wrote. I was gonna call it Another N** but, it ain't really a poem, I just felt like it's something you probably could relate to. Other than that, now that I finally got a chance to holla at you. I always wanted to ask you about a certain situa--, about a metaphor actually, you spoke on the ground. What you mean 'bout that, what the ground represent?”
Friend: “The ground is gonna open up and swallow the evil…”
Kendrick - “Right…”
Friend: “That's how I see it, my word is bond. I see--and the ground is the symbol for the poor people, the poor people is gonna open up this whole world and swallow up the rich people. Cause the rich people gonna be so fat, they gonna be so appetising, you know what I'm saying, wealthy, appetizing. he poor gonna be so poor and hungry, you know what I'm saying it's gonna be like... there might be some cannibalism out this mutha, they might eat the rich.”
Kendrick: “Aight so let me ask you this then, do you see yourself as somebody that's rich or somebody that made the best of their own opportunities?”
Friend: “I see myself as a natural born hustler, a true hustler in every sense of the word. I took nothin', I took the opportunities, I worked at the most menial and degrading job and built myself up so I could get it to where I owned it. I went from having somebody manage me to me hiring the person that works my management company. I changed everything I realized my destiny in a matter of five years you know what I'm saying I made myself a millionaire. I made millions for a lot of people now it's time to make millions for myself, you know what I'm saying. I made millions for the record companies, I made millions for these movie companies, now I make millions for us.”
Kendrick: “And through your different avenues of success, how would you say you managed to keep a level of sanity?”
Friend: “and by my faith in "all good things come to those that stay true. You know what I'm saying, and it was happening to me for a reason, you know what I'm saying, I was noticing, shit, I was punching the right buttons and it was happening. So it's no problem, you know I mean it's a problem but I'm not finna let them know. I'm finna go straight through.”
Kendrick: “Would you consider yourself a fighter at heart or somebody that only reacts when they back is against the wall?”
Friend: “Shit, I like to think that at every opportunity I've ever been threatened with resistance, it's been met with resistance. And not only me but it goes down my family tree. You know what I'm saying, it's in my veins to fight back.”
Kendrick: “Aight well, how long you think it take before n***** be like, we fighting a war, I'm fighting a war I can't win and I wanna lay it all down.”
Friend: “In this country a black man only have like 5 years we can exhibit maximum strength, and that's right now while you a teenager, while you still strong or while you still wanna lift weights, while you still wanna shoot back. Cause once you turn 30 it's like they take the heart and soul out of a man, out of a black man in this country. And you don't wanna fight no more. And if you don't believe me you can look around, you don't see no loud mouth 30-year old muthafuckas.”
Kendrick: “That's crazy, because me being one of your offspring of the legacy you left behind I can truly tell you that there's nothing but turmoil goin' on so I wanted to ask you what you think is the future for me and my generation today?”
Friend: “I think that n***** is tired of grabbin' shit out the stores and next time it's a riot there's gonna be, like, uh, bloodshed for real. I don't think America know that. I think American think we was just playing and it's gonna be some more playing but it ain't gonna be no playing. It's gonna be murder, you know what I'm saying, it's gonna be like Nat Turner, 1831, up in this muthafucka. You know what I'm saying, it's gonna happen.”
Kendrick: “That's crazy man. In my opinion, only hope that we kinda have left is music and vibrations, lotta people don't understand how important it is. Sometimes I be like, get behind a mic and I don't know what type of energy I'mma push out, or where it comes from. Trip me out sometimes.”
Friend: “Because the spirits, we ain't even really rappin', we just letting our dead homies tell stories for us.”
Kendrick: I wanted to read one last thing to you. It's actually something a good friend had wrote describing my world. It says: "The caterpillar is a prisoner to the streets that conceived it. Its only job is to eat or consume everything around it, in order to protect itself from this mad city. While consuming its environment the caterpillar begins to notice ways to survive. One thing it noticed is how much the world shuns him, but praises the butterfly. The butterfly represents the talent, the thoughtfulness, and the beauty within the caterpillar. But having a harsh outlook on life the caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak and figures out a way to pimp it to his own benefits. Already surrounded by this mad city the caterpillar goes to work on the cocoon which institutionalizes him. He can no longer see past his own thoughts. He's trapped. When trapped inside these walls certain ideas take roots, such as going home, and bringing back new concepts to this mad city The result? Wings begin to emerge, breaking the cycle of feeling stagnant. Finally free, the butterfly sheds light on situations that the caterpillar never considered, ending the internal struggle. Although the butterfly and caterpillar are completely different, they are one and the same. What's your perspective on that? Pac? Pac? Pac?!”
submitted by HiCFlashinFruitPunch to KendrickLamar [link] [comments]
All of this is stuff you’ve already heard before so this is just my personal looks at the album, its meaning, and why it’s probably the best rap album we’ll ever see.
If you have listened to TPAB all the way through then you remember that in the final track, Mortal Man, it’s Kendrick and someone else talking. I put this together and it’s just the conversation they have so you can easily read it and see who is talking when.
This is how I interpret albums meaning: TPAB is about the issues that African Americans will face due to the neglect of the U.S. government. The idea of the butterfly is a person who has become famous, or has power. That’s why in tracks like Wesley’s Theory, the opening track, the person talking says, “When the four corners of this cocoon collide You'll slip through the cracks hopin' that you'll survive Gather your weight, take a deep look inside Are you really who they idolize? To pimp a butterfly.” A butterfly is a transformed caterpillar, so in TPAB the idea of a caterpillar is someone who the government, or really anyone for that matter, doesn’t care about. Once they become famous (transform) and have power, they are treated better or like a butterfly.
Also, fun fact about TPAB that you prob already know. The original title was going to be “To Pimp a Caterpillar.” This was because it would then abbreviate to “2PAC” instead of TPAB.
Now for the conversation:
Kendrick: “I remember you was conflicted, misusing your influence. Sometimes I did the same, abusing my power full of resentment. Found myself screaming in a hotel room. I didn’t wanna self destruct. The evils of Lucy was all around me, so I went running for answers. Until I came home, but that didn’t stop survivors guilt. Going back and forth, trying to convince myself the stripes I earned, or maybe how A-1 my foundation was. But while my loved ones were fighting a continuous war back in the dirty, I was entering a new one. A war that was based on apartheid and discrimination. Made me wanna go back to the city and tell the homies what I learned, the word was respect. Just because you wore a different gang color than mine's doesn't mean I can't respect you as a black man. Forgetting all the pain and hurt we caused each other in these streets. If I respect you, we unify and stop the enemy from killing us, but I don't know, I'm no mortal man, maybe I'm just another n*. Shit and that's all I wrote. I was gonna call it Another N** but, it ain't really a poem, I just felt like it's something you probably could relate to. Other than that, now that I finally got a chance to holla at you. I always wanted to ask you about a certain situa--, about a metaphor actually, you spoke on the ground. What you mean 'bout that, what the ground represent?”
Friend: “The ground is gonna open up and swallow the evil…”
Kendrick - “Right…”
Friend: “That's how I see it, my word is bond. I see--and the ground is the symbol for the poor people, the poor people is gonna open up this whole world and swallow up the rich people. Cause the rich people gonna be so fat, they gonna be so appetising, you know what I'm saying, wealthy, appetizing. he poor gonna be so poor and hungry, you know what I'm saying it's gonna be like... there might be some cannibalism out this mutha, they might eat the rich.”
Kendrick: “Aight so let me ask you this then, do you see yourself as somebody that's rich or somebody that made the best of their own opportunities?”
Friend: “I see myself as a natural born hustler, a true hustler in every sense of the word. I took nothin', I took the opportunities, I worked at the most menial and degrading job and built myself up so I could get it to where I owned it. I went from having somebody manage me to me hiring the person that works my management company. I changed everything I realized my destiny in a matter of five years you know what I'm saying I made myself a millionaire. I made millions for a lot of people now it's time to make millions for myself, you know what I'm saying. I made millions for the record companies, I made millions for these movie companies, now I make millions for us.”
Kendrick: “And through your different avenues of success, how would you say you managed to keep a level of sanity?”
Friend: “and by my faith in "all good things come to those that stay true. You know what I'm saying, and it was happening to me for a reason, you know what I'm saying, I was noticing, shit, I was punching the right buttons and it was happening. So it's no problem, you know I mean it's a problem but I'm not finna let them know. I'm finna go straight through.”
Kendrick: “Would you consider yourself a fighter at heart or somebody that only reacts when they back is against the wall?”
Friend: “Shit, I like to think that at every opportunity I've ever been threatened with resistance, it's been met with resistance. And not only me but it goes down my family tree. You know what I'm saying, it's in my veins to fight back.”
Kendrick: “Aight well, how long you think it take before n***** be like, we fighting a war, I'm fighting a war I can't win and I wanna lay it all down.”
Friend: “In this country a black man only have like 5 years we can exhibit maximum strength, and that's right now while you a teenager, while you still strong or while you still wanna lift weights, while you still wanna shoot back. Cause once you turn 30 it's like they take the heart and soul out of a man, out of a black man in this country. And you don't wanna fight no more. And if you don't believe me you can look around, you don't see no loud mouth 30-year old muthafuckas.”
Kendrick: “That's crazy, because me being one of your offspring of the legacy you left behind I can truly tell you that there's nothing but turmoil goin' on so I wanted to ask you what you think is the future for me and my generation today?”
Friend: “I think that n***** is tired of grabbin' shit out the stores and next time it's a riot there's gonna be, like, uh, bloodshed for real. I don't think America know that. I think American think we was just playing and it's gonna be some more playing but it ain't gonna be no playing. It's gonna be murder, you know what I'm saying, it's gonna be like Nat Turner, 1831, up in this muthafucka. You know what I'm saying, it's gonna happen.”
Kendrick: “That's crazy man. In my opinion, only hope that we kinda have left is music and vibrations, lotta people don't understand how important it is. Sometimes I be like, get behind a mic and I don't know what type of energy I'mma push out, or where it comes from. Trip me out sometimes.”
Friend: “Because the spirits, we ain't even really rappin', we just letting our dead homies tell stories for us.”
Kendrick: I wanted to read one last thing to you. It's actually something a good friend had wrote describing my world. It says: "The caterpillar is a prisoner to the streets that conceived it. Its only job is to eat or consume everything around it, in order to protect itself from this mad city. While consuming its environment the caterpillar begins to notice ways to survive. One thing it noticed is how much the world shuns him, but praises the butterfly. The butterfly represents the talent, the thoughtfulness, and the beauty within the caterpillar. But having a harsh outlook on life the caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak and figures out a way to pimp it to his own benefits. Already surrounded by this mad city the caterpillar goes to work on the cocoon which institutionalizes him. He can no longer see past his own thoughts. He's trapped. When trapped inside these walls certain ideas take roots, such as going home, and bringing back new concepts to this mad city The result? Wings begin to emerge, breaking the cycle of feeling stagnant. Finally free, the butterfly sheds light on situations that the caterpillar never considered, ending the internal struggle. Although the butterfly and caterpillar are completely different, they are one and the same. What's your perspective on that? Pac? Pac? Pac?!”
2024.05.20 03:30 xCaptainCl3mentinex When I published "Wilted Roses" my poem book "Behind The Veil" was already at 1.6k reads, and now its about to be overtaken!
 | Behind The Veil was published for last years NaPoWriMo competition from WattpadPoetry. By the end of the month of April, it had gained a very fast 1.5k views, but, understandably, after the contest was over, views were slow- especially because the book is no longer being updated. submitted by xCaptainCl3mentinex to Wattpad [link] [comments] A few months later, I decided I missed following WattpadPoetry's word prompts, and made my own 50 word prompts, to challenge myself in a new, independent book. Due to the lack of rules, I enjoyed Wilted Roses more, and the poems turned out better, as I wasn't bound to "one poem a day", "no more than 10 lines". At first the reads were very slow. It took months to gain the first couple hundred, and then it sped up to a consistent 100 views a month, which I was satisfied with. But then, about 3 months ago, when it had been sitting at about 500 reads, it had a huge boost in reads (likely due to the fact I was writing 1-3 poems daily for a week) I got #1 out 300k ranked under "poetry" which lasted about one or two weeks, and by the end of those two weeks I'd went from 500 reads to 1.2k. Since then, I've had a bit of a burnout, and updates have been slow, but considering that fact, it has still been rising in views, and is looking to take over "Behind The Veil" very soon. |
2024.05.20 02:59 TheOneTrueAnimeGod Sionia Chapter 14
Sionia
Chapter 14
Map First Previous
“Lord Wyatt, you are needed” Called Lars that shook me out of my fascinating reading about dragon neuts.
“Yes.” I said as I pulled back the curtain.
“The city guard requests to speak with you. They are restricting entrance to Avalon given the latest attack by Mardor at Black Gate of Rowan.” Lars explained with a salute and chest bump
With a sigh, I handed my book to Gus and exited the carriage and was very impressed with the massive three story gatehouse and huge stone block readouts connected on each side. I was met by a forty something looking man of average build with black hair and dark eyes flanked by six fully fitted out soldiers.
“I am Rhys Redith captain of the guard here in Avalon. You must be Count Ryan Wyatt.” Rhys introduced himself with the question.
“Yes, I am Ryan Wyatt.” I responded with a frown and knotted brow.
“We have been expecting your arrival. The king has ordered us to assist you and provide hospitality. I am to escort you to the fortress and the rest of your party to Duggan's inn.” Said Rhys with a salute and formal bow.
“That will not do! I have several wards under my care which several are nobility.” I objected to the plan given.
“I was not aware. I will of course take you to the fortress where Lady Ludmilla will address your concerns.” Replied Rhys with a salute and bow then motioned for me to follow.
“Follow him, Jace .” I said to my new driver and climbed into the carriage.
The bridge over the north side of the Paradise River to the island of Avalon was very long at around a quarter mile or so. The readouts of the gatehouse extended a good ways into the river which had several firing positions. I suspected that the river rose and fell with a possible rainy and dry season which was why the readouts could prevent an army from getting behind the gatehouse or access to the bridge from land. The island side gatehouse was flush with the city walls and protruded into the river was equally as impressive with a descent sized recessed portico and draw bridge porch extension.
Thinking back to my travels through Europe, I decided Avalon looked like the city of East Looe, Cornwall in England but not as topographically elevated and with more renaissance style architecture than back on earth. The Roman style arched bridge was very much what we just rode across. The fortress of Avalon itself was at the highest point which was off to the left on the far east side of the island and most up stream point on the islands.
The Fortress keep was decent but still half the size of Duke Boasag's Buanna. I realized that the reason for putting my servants at an inn was because of the lack of space. However, I was determined to stay with my wards no matter the violation of etiquette it might cause. As my carriage pulled up to the entrance with the fortress that had both iron gates and metal reinforced wooden doors that were a good six feet wide and twelve feet tall each. These doors were set into no less than a three foot thick wall.
Passing through the gate was a small bricked paved courtyard that was about forty to fifty feet wide in a more or less oval shape. I saw a host of servants and two well dressed ladies waiting at the main doors to the fortress's central keep.
“Lord Wyatt, welcome to Avalon. I am Viscountess Ludmilla Skafhoggr and this is my mother Baroness Grogda Wode.” Stated a quiet plump pretty faced brown haired woman in a gaudy yellow with purple accented dress with unicorns all over it and a matching unicorn hat whose horn protruded a good foot from her forehead.
“Yes, it is a very deep pleasure to meet you as well.” Stated Lady Grogda a good looking woman who seemed to be in her mid to late thirties with black hair and unusual olive colored eyes. Her lite brown dress was quiet plain compared to her daughter's which was kind of comical in their contrast.
“The pleasure is mine for sure in meeting you ladies.” I said pouring it on a bit thick with a formal bow and sweep of my arm.
“I do not understand. Why are all your people with you?” Lady Ludmilla asked looking toward Captain Rhys but speaking to me.
“I have many wards under my protection. Thus, it is impossible to leave them alone without my presence as there are many who would try and take advantage of helpless young girls.” I stated but that failed miserably when Freya and the other three Asgardians approached fully armed with their swords.
“I would hardly call them helpless!” Spat Lady Grogda with a bit of contempt as the Asgardians were better looking than her.
“Despite appearances, they need my protection. After all, I am their guardian as I freed them from captivity.” I responded with a bit of admonishment in my voice.
“Yes, we have heard the tale. You are quiet the knight in shinning armor.” Lady Ludmilla said with obvious sarcasm.
“It is what it is. The wards will be with me wherever I am. If that is at an inn or camping on the side of the road, so bit it.” I stated with irritation.
“Do not be silly. We can host your wards and personal attendant. However, we must insist that the rest stay in the inn over there.” Lady Ludmilla said pointing to a three story building that was about fifty yards away.
“That is closer than expected. However, I accept. My people can stay at the inn while you host me and my wards.” I stated with another formal bow.
“Good, now come and we will see to your comfort.” Lady Ludmilla said with a bit of a laugh with Lady Grogda giving a small laugh and a wicked grin.
I immediately turned to Lars, Razor and Meowth and ordered that they maintain a watch on the carts and carriage around the clock as I did not want any lapse where someone would try to take advantage. I called to the wolf kin brothers to continue to protect the girls inside the fortress. Pointing to Lars, I told him to take our prisoner Andros to the adventure's guild office and turn him over and letting them know he was caught trying to steal from me. Tell them I will see them on morrow to see if Andros was telling the truth or just lying. Turning with a smile and motioned to Freya and the girls to follow me with Gus right behind me.
The inside of the fortress was decently furnished though it had more of the appearance of a military outpost than a holding of wealth as it looked quiet spartan. I was led to an upper chamber where Lady Grogda had already ordered a bath filled by the time we had arrived.
“I will see to you personally” Lady Grogda stated with that same wicked grin again.
I suddenly felt as though I was a piece of meat put on display before a hungry wolf. I steeled myself to not recoil as I just felt off with this lady.
“See to your master's baggage.” Lady Grogda ordered Gus who was surprised by the command.
Gus gave me a slight shaking of his head and left the chamber. Lady Grogda then proceeded to strip me with efficiency. Once I was naked, she suddenly took her time looking at my nakedness. She even traced my scars on my back with a click of her tongue. Walking over to the tub, I climbed in and sat down.
“Spoil sport” Said Lady Grogda as she grabbed a wash cloth.
“Do not get my wounds wet.” I said warning Lady Groda of what the doctor had told me.
“Why? Your wound is almost well healed. The stitches can be pulled out except here” Stated Grogda and tapped me on my left shoulder blade.
“I have been using a special salve from the high elves. I did not realize it was healing that fast. However, I was warned that getting my wound wet would effect my healing.” I repeated what Doctor Zalzwarth told me.
“Very well.” Groda conceded.
Lady Grogda began washing me where she was absolutely taking her time. It was obvious that she was deliberately feeling me up for her own pleasure. When she grasped my manhood. I stood up and said, “The water is cold and I am tired and hungry!”
“Humph” Pouted Lady Grogda her displeasure but began to rinse me.
Just as I was stepping out of the tub, Gus entered slightly out of breath as he had run to get my clothes with Lukas my footman helping. I sighed with relief as Gus helped me don my dressing gown.
“Old Maude will be here momentarily to apply your salve.” Gus said with a salute.
“Very good.” I replied to Gus then turned to Lady Grogda and said, “I was told you are a Dowager Baroness. Is that not so?” I blatantly asked appearing as innocent as I could.
“I will see you at the dinner bell hour.” Lady Groda said with a sort of half wave salute and stormed out of the chamber in a huff.
“Thank you, Gus. I actually thought I would have to literally fight to save my personal honor.” I remarked with a laugh.
“It was my pleasure, Lord Wyatt.” Gus responded and joined me in laughing.
Old Maude came about twenty minutes later and applied my salve and chatted about how excited she was to be in Avalon and wanting to visit one of the apothecary shops. I gave her permission but have one of the guards accompany her.
About an hour later and I was fully shaven and dressed, I heard a large bell ringing from a bell tower not far away from my chamber. With that, I headed down to the great hall that was just off the main entrance way. I was met by Lady Ludmilla who escorted me to Viscount Skafhoggr chair where she seated herself to my left. Lady Grogda appeared wearing a new pink dress and seated herself to my right. The one missing was the Viscount.
“Where is Lord Skafhoggr?” I asked Lady Ludmilla with a raised eyebrow.
“He is meeting with one of the military commanders. I believe they are deciding on how large a levy they must raise to battle the bastards of Mardor.” Replied Lady Ludmilla as she clapped her hands for servants to begin serving the evening meal.
Four exhausting hours later, I was back in my chamber with my nerves completely shot. The constant fawning and mindless chatter from Lady Ludmilla as well as the constant groping from Lady Grogda under the table had stained me to the max. I was ready for bed and was glad to sink into the lavender scented sheets. Gus grabbed a thin pallet and two blankets. Blowing out the candles he stepped into the hallway closing the door behind him. He would sleep outside my door as custom demands while traveling.
A little over a half an hour later after Gus left, the door opened and closed quickly. I could not see in the darkness but relaxed when Freya spoke softly and slipped into bed with me. Freya did her magic on me as she mounted me taking me to new heights of pleasure. I quickly forgot all about the overly eager pursuit of the Dowager Baroness as I shared the pleasures of being with Freya. After we had sated ourselves completely, we slept peacefully in a loving embrace.
The morning came with a knock on my door that woke both Freya and I. I moaned but Freya nudged me on the chin.
“Time to wake you lazy bones.” Freya said with a laugh.
“I am not a morning person.” I said with a groan.
“Don't I know it! You were quiet the beast were you not?” Freya teased then laughed at me.
The knock on the door was more instant as I rose and put on my dressing gown. Opening the door slightly was Gus and the Dowager Baroness.
“It is early, what is it?” I asked.
“We have prepared a very special meal for you this morning.” Said Lady Grogda with a frown while she tried to look around me into the chamber.
“I see. Well, give me some time to properly dress and I will be down shortly.” I stated and continued to Gus “Have Lukas bring my shaving kit.”
“Right away, Lord Wyatt.” Gus said as he motioned down the hall where I assumed Lukas was.
About forty five minutes later and having snuck Freya out of my chamber, I was fully shaved and dressed in my dark red outfit and black beret hat that actually looked really good on me. Upon entering the great hall, I saw Lady Ludmilla seated. Lady Grogda taking me by the arm led me again to the Viscount's chair where she seated herself next to me.
“Where is Lord Skafhoggr, Lady Ludmilla?” I asked her directly.
Lady Ludmilla was quiet for a moment then said, “I guess he is sleeping. The meetings with the military commanders drag on for hours and hours. I hardly ever see him these days.” Lady Ludmilla said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Is that so. Very well as it can not be helped. Please send my regards to Lord Skafhoggr for his hospitality. I was informed that the king would have a messages for me that Lord Skafhoggr was to give me. Could you ask Lord Skafhoggr for them?” I asked as I suspected something was just not right.
“Oh. Ah. I will of course ask my Lord Vincent for the king's message once morning meal is finished.” Lady Ludmilla said and looked discombobulated.
“I see. Please do so. The king ordered me to arrive in Camelot immediately. I can not dally and spend extra time as I normally would do. I hope you understand.” I said making extra emphasis on the king's order part.
“Yes. What the king commands we all must obey.” Lady Ludmilla said sourly but not looking at me.
Lady Ludmilla then clapped her hands and the servants brought in the morning meal. What surprised me was my meal was different from everyone else. Looking at both Lady Ludmilla and Lady Grogda something in the back on my head screamed warning warning.
The silver plate before me was a type of stew with a strong overpowering spice scent. I frowned and began to think hard and fast.
“This is a specialty from the High Valley region. I hope you like it.” Lady Grogda said with no expression at all.
My alarm bells went off even stronger this time. A footman came over to fill my cup which I deliberately knocked over and profusely apologized for my clumsiness.
“You know, I am from the High Valley region too. I have never been a fan of overly spiced foods. Lets see how spicy it is.” I stated and took a scoop with a spoon and handed it to the footman to taste.
The footman was surprised but more than happy to taste the food as it was obvious that food for the staff was very plain and simple.
“You should not do that! It is not right!” Lady Grogda said as she stood up showing more alarm than outrage.
The footman had already consumed the sample where he at first looked like he liked it. However, he suddenly started to choke as his face turned bright red and falling to his knees. Lady Ludmilla stood up in horror as the footman was gagging begging for water. I handed him my silver chalice with what I assumed was apple cider where he chugged it down then begged for more.
Finally, after three more cups of water given by another footman, first footman just lay on his back almost in a stupor. It was as if his mind was blank.
“What is this?” I asked as I pointed to my meal looking at both Lady Ludmilla and Lady Grogda.
“I do not know!” Said Lady Ludmilla looking at her mother with a strange look.
“Do not give me that! What did you do?” I demanded with a my voiced raised and now pointing my finger at them.
“It was a love potion. It was to make you like me.” Said Lady Grogda meekly and looking sheepishly at the ground.
“Seriously! That was more than a simple love potion!” I yelled my outrage.
“I swear that is all it was. I had to hide its not so pleasant taste with spice.” Lady Grogda stated her defense but still not able to look me in the eye.
“Lady Ludmilla, I must now ask that you bring me the king's message as I am now leaving Avalon.” I commanded with rage in my countenance.
Lady Ludmilla fled the great hall without replying. Lady Grogda just sat down with her head down looking at the floor saying nothing.
With exasperation, I called out to my people. “House of Wyatt, Ladies and girls we are leaving! Quickly gather your things and be out front within a little span!”
With that, I stormed out of the great hall to the shock of all present. Up in the guest chamber, I changed clothes into my bluejeans, a blue shirt and a tan leather vest. Pulling on my boots and strapping on my weapons belt, I looked over seeing Gus and Lukas already packed up my discarded clothing and was ready to leave as they were staying clear of my angry outbursts.
Down at the carts, I ordered my guards to ready themselves to leave. I sent Lukas to call all the servants in the inn to be ready to leave immediately. Razor and Meowth jumped down from their perch on the first two carriages with questioning looks.
“They tried to poison me! Can you believe it?” I said angrily as I swept my arm to point at the fortress.
“Meow Lord Wyatt, that is clawful. Do you want meow to use them like a scratching post?” Asked Meowth as her tail went straight in what I assumed was either surprise or anger.
Razor just gave a low grumbling growl with teeth bared as he looked at the fortress.
Forty minutes later as my people were loading up, Lady Ludmilla approached with her head down.
“I am sorry Lord Wyatt. It seems you do not have any messages from the king.” Lady Ludmilla said never once looking me in the eye.
“I see. Send a message to the king that I left Avalon today and as commanded traveling as quickly as I can. The king is expecting my update so make sure it is properly sent!” I said with a warning.
I ordered a florse saddled for I needed fresh air as I was still furious. I actually led our people out and toward the main north south road which Nick panicked a bit and settled with riding next to me. As we approached the main crossroads of the city, I saw a large dinning hall and ordered a halt for all of our people to have breakfast. The meal consisted of roasted mutton, eggs, apple pancakes and apple jam. They also had fresh chilled milk and apple cider which really went well with the sweet dishes. Our group apparently cleaned them out and they had to turn away a few customers until mid day.
After breakfast, I went to the adventurer's guild that was a few buildings to the south. It was a four story building of decent size. I allowed Old Maude with a one of the house guards to go to the apothecary shop across the road along with the two Alphardian servants Aura and Sylvia. Inside the adventurer's guild, I asked for Marine as instructed. It was then I learned that Marine was Zack Talley's girl where they were to marry soon as she proudly let me know her good news.
“Zack said to tell you this is a level one escort. Whatever that means.” I repeated what Zack had told me to say.
“Thank you. It simply means Zack thinks there would be no problems and just being present is enough to discourage any potential thieves. The total is two hundred fifty denari for basic escort with an A ranked adventurer.” Marine said with a smile
After paying the fee for the job request, I asked Marine to speak to someone about Andros that was brought in by man guard Lars.
“I am Supervisor Etan Borg and assistant to Guild Master Henry Stewart. It is a pleasure to be at your service Count Wyatt.” Stated Etan with a salute and bow.
“Pleasure is mine.” I replied with a salute and nod of my head.
“We have investigated Andros. His party the Finders of Avalon specialize in retrieving lost items or stolen goods from thieves. It appears his party was specifically requested to recover a lost ventu volpis. We do not have any more details for the job other than this.” Etan stated as he read from a page in his hand.
“Who hired them to steal from me? Make no mistake, they were hired to steal from me!” I said as I was showing my anger and frustration.
“Normally, we would not disclose who posted job requests to those not apart of the contract. However, given the circumstances, I was instructed to tell you it was Viscountess Lady Ludmilla. It seems she contracted and paid a merchant from Xanadu for a ventu volpis. It is our understanding that merchant was placed on a Quenya trade ship where he will go on trial for his many crimes in Svarta. The Finders of Avalon should not have tried to take your ventu volpis. Nor should they have taken on the job given the crimes of the merchant without more information.” Etan explained what the guild knew.
“What will happen to Andros?” I asked frankly.
“The Guild Master will hold a hearing with S and an A ranked members who will advise on the issues. I expect he will be found guilty but will escape the ten year punishment. More like one to two years of labor for the guild doing low ranked jobs that no one wants while being supervised by myself or a C ranked or higher adventurer. His pay will be one third of normal with the rest going to repay the guild and costs associated with his lapse in judgment.” Etan replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I see. The thing that irks me is they attacked my people and wounded one of my guards with a slinger's stone.” I explained my outrage.
“I was not aware of this fact. Master Stewart will compensate you as the law requires. Unfortunately, Master Stewart left for Camelot for meetings with the war counsel on Astria's response to the Empire's latest invasion. I will send a filoxis to let Master Stewart know that there was injury, offense and honor requirements. I understand you will be traveling to Camelot and am certain Master Stewart will seek you out to give you a formal apology and see you are properly compensated.” Etan stated with a salute and bow.
“Good enough. Let me know the outcome of the hearing for Andros. I do not like loose ends and a potential enemy looking for revenge.” I said mater of factually.
“Understood. I will relay your concerns to Master Stewart. Etan replied with another salute and bow.
Leaving the adventure's guild, I decided to visit the tradesman's guild and merchant's storefront while Old Maude was still busy across the street. The girls came with me as they had been requesting things like combs, brushes and scented oils plus a few other special feminine items they needed.
Once all the girls got what they were needing and getting those items stowed with their baggage, Old Maude came back with a small crate filled with items to make medicines. While the baggage was being loaded and sorted, I went to see the information broker's desk and inquired about Chamberlain Robert Duffy. I paid the requested fee of one erythro given his status in the city. I was shown a file which listed the qualities, character and known habits of Robert. There was a section about vices and food preferences. The only vice was seeing a woman who was a widow listed as a paid mistress. Basically, Robert was a straight as an arrow honorable man. I smiled as the report made me feel better about who I was helping.
Finally, with everyone loaded up, we headed out of the city of Avalon over the southern main bridge and gate that was just like the north one but slightly longer with a guard tower protected draw bridge section to let ships pass. After about two hours, I had calmed down enough that I rode in the carriage as was expected of a person of rank. I just looked out seeing nothing but the vast wheat fields of the Capital Region realizing how lucky I had been to escape the evils of the ladies of Fortress Avalon.
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Chapter 14
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“Lord Wyatt, you are needed” Called Lars that shook me out of my fascinating reading about dragon neuts.
“Yes.” I said as I pulled back the curtain.
“The city guard requests to speak with you. They are restricting entrance to Avalon given the latest attack by Mardor at Black Gate of Rowan.” Lars explained with a salute and chest bump
With a sigh, I handed my book to Gus and exited the carriage and was very impressed with the massive three story gatehouse and huge stone block readouts connected on each side. I was met by a forty something looking man of average build with black hair and dark eyes flanked by six fully fitted out soldiers.
“I am Rhys Redith captain of the guard here in Avalon. You must be Count Ryan Wyatt.” Rhys introduced himself with the question.
“Yes, I am Ryan Wyatt.” I responded with a frown and knotted brow.
“We have been expecting your arrival. The king has ordered us to assist you and provide hospitality. I am to escort you to the fortress and the rest of your party to Duggan's inn.” Said Rhys with a salute and formal bow.
“That will not do! I have several wards under my care which several are nobility.” I objected to the plan given.
“I was not aware. I will of course take you to the fortress where Lady Ludmilla will address your concerns.” Replied Rhys with a salute and bow then motioned for me to follow.
“Follow him, Jace .” I said to my new driver and climbed into the carriage.
The bridge over the north side of the Paradise River to the island of Avalon was very long at around a quarter mile or so. The readouts of the gatehouse extended a good ways into the river which had several firing positions. I suspected that the river rose and fell with a possible rainy and dry season which was why the readouts could prevent an army from getting behind the gatehouse or access to the bridge from land. The island side gatehouse was flush with the city walls and protruded into the river was equally as impressive with a descent sized recessed portico and draw bridge porch extension.
Thinking back to my travels through Europe, I decided Avalon looked like the city of East Looe, Cornwall in England but not as topographically elevated and with more renaissance style architecture than back on earth. The Roman style arched bridge was very much what we just rode across. The fortress of Avalon itself was at the highest point which was off to the left on the far east side of the island and most up stream point on the islands.
The Fortress keep was decent but still half the size of Duke Boasag's Buanna. I realized that the reason for putting my servants at an inn was because of the lack of space. However, I was determined to stay with my wards no matter the violation of etiquette it might cause. As my carriage pulled up to the entrance with the fortress that had both iron gates and metal reinforced wooden doors that were a good six feet wide and twelve feet tall each. These doors were set into no less than a three foot thick wall.
Passing through the gate was a small bricked paved courtyard that was about forty to fifty feet wide in a more or less oval shape. I saw a host of servants and two well dressed ladies waiting at the main doors to the fortress's central keep.
“Lord Wyatt, welcome to Avalon. I am Viscountess Ludmilla Skafhoggr and this is my mother Baroness Grogda Wode.” Stated a quiet plump pretty faced brown haired woman in a gaudy yellow with purple accented dress with unicorns all over it and a matching unicorn hat whose horn protruded a good foot from her forehead.
“Yes, it is a very deep pleasure to meet you as well.” Stated Lady Grogda a good looking woman who seemed to be in her mid to late thirties with black hair and unusual olive colored eyes. Her lite brown dress was quiet plain compared to her daughter's which was kind of comical in their contrast.
“The pleasure is mine for sure in meeting you ladies.” I said pouring it on a bit thick with a formal bow and sweep of my arm.
“I do not understand. Why are all your people with you?” Lady Ludmilla asked looking toward Captain Rhys but speaking to me.
“I have many wards under my protection. Thus, it is impossible to leave them alone without my presence as there are many who would try and take advantage of helpless young girls.” I stated but that failed miserably when Freya and the other three Asgardians approached fully armed with their swords.
“I would hardly call them helpless!” Spat Lady Grogda with a bit of contempt as the Asgardians were better looking than her.
“Despite appearances, they need my protection. After all, I am their guardian as I freed them from captivity.” I responded with a bit of admonishment in my voice.
“Yes, we have heard the tale. You are quiet the knight in shinning armor.” Lady Ludmilla said with obvious sarcasm.
“It is what it is. The wards will be with me wherever I am. If that is at an inn or camping on the side of the road, so bit it.” I stated with irritation.
“Do not be silly. We can host your wards and personal attendant. However, we must insist that the rest stay in the inn over there.” Lady Ludmilla said pointing to a three story building that was about fifty yards away.
“That is closer than expected. However, I accept. My people can stay at the inn while you host me and my wards.” I stated with another formal bow.
“Good, now come and we will see to your comfort.” Lady Ludmilla said with a bit of a laugh with Lady Grogda giving a small laugh and a wicked grin.
I immediately turned to Lars, Razor and Meowth and ordered that they maintain a watch on the carts and carriage around the clock as I did not want any lapse where someone would try to take advantage. I called to the wolf kin brothers to continue to protect the girls inside the fortress. Pointing to Lars, I told him to take our prisoner Andros to the adventure's guild office and turn him over and letting them know he was caught trying to steal from me. Tell them I will see them on morrow to see if Andros was telling the truth or just lying. Turning with a smile and motioned to Freya and the girls to follow me with Gus right behind me.
The inside of the fortress was decently furnished though it had more of the appearance of a military outpost than a holding of wealth as it looked quiet spartan. I was led to an upper chamber where Lady Grogda had already ordered a bath filled by the time we had arrived.
“I will see to you personally” Lady Grogda stated with that same wicked grin again.
I suddenly felt as though I was a piece of meat put on display before a hungry wolf. I steeled myself to not recoil as I just felt off with this lady.
“See to your master's baggage.” Lady Grogda ordered Gus who was surprised by the command.
Gus gave me a slight shaking of his head and left the chamber. Lady Grogda then proceeded to strip me with efficiency. Once I was naked, she suddenly took her time looking at my nakedness. She even traced my scars on my back with a click of her tongue. Walking over to the tub, I climbed in and sat down.
“Spoil sport” Said Lady Grogda as she grabbed a wash cloth.
“Do not get my wounds wet.” I said warning Lady Groda of what the doctor had told me.
“Why? Your wound is almost well healed. The stitches can be pulled out except here” Stated Grogda and tapped me on my left shoulder blade.
“I have been using a special salve from the high elves. I did not realize it was healing that fast. However, I was warned that getting my wound wet would effect my healing.” I repeated what Doctor Zalzwarth told me.
“Very well.” Groda conceded.
Lady Grogda began washing me where she was absolutely taking her time. It was obvious that she was deliberately feeling me up for her own pleasure. When she grasped my manhood. I stood up and said, “The water is cold and I am tired and hungry!”
“Humph” Pouted Lady Grogda her displeasure but began to rinse me.
Just as I was stepping out of the tub, Gus entered slightly out of breath as he had run to get my clothes with Lukas my footman helping. I sighed with relief as Gus helped me don my dressing gown.
“Old Maude will be here momentarily to apply your salve.” Gus said with a salute.
“Very good.” I replied to Gus then turned to Lady Grogda and said, “I was told you are a Dowager Baroness. Is that not so?” I blatantly asked appearing as innocent as I could.
“I will see you at the dinner bell hour.” Lady Groda said with a sort of half wave salute and stormed out of the chamber in a huff.
“Thank you, Gus. I actually thought I would have to literally fight to save my personal honor.” I remarked with a laugh.
“It was my pleasure, Lord Wyatt.” Gus responded and joined me in laughing.
Old Maude came about twenty minutes later and applied my salve and chatted about how excited she was to be in Avalon and wanting to visit one of the apothecary shops. I gave her permission but have one of the guards accompany her.
About an hour later and I was fully shaven and dressed, I heard a large bell ringing from a bell tower not far away from my chamber. With that, I headed down to the great hall that was just off the main entrance way. I was met by Lady Ludmilla who escorted me to Viscount Skafhoggr chair where she seated herself to my left. Lady Grogda appeared wearing a new pink dress and seated herself to my right. The one missing was the Viscount.
“Where is Lord Skafhoggr?” I asked Lady Ludmilla with a raised eyebrow.
“He is meeting with one of the military commanders. I believe they are deciding on how large a levy they must raise to battle the bastards of Mardor.” Replied Lady Ludmilla as she clapped her hands for servants to begin serving the evening meal.
Four exhausting hours later, I was back in my chamber with my nerves completely shot. The constant fawning and mindless chatter from Lady Ludmilla as well as the constant groping from Lady Grogda under the table had stained me to the max. I was ready for bed and was glad to sink into the lavender scented sheets. Gus grabbed a thin pallet and two blankets. Blowing out the candles he stepped into the hallway closing the door behind him. He would sleep outside my door as custom demands while traveling.
A little over a half an hour later after Gus left, the door opened and closed quickly. I could not see in the darkness but relaxed when Freya spoke softly and slipped into bed with me. Freya did her magic on me as she mounted me taking me to new heights of pleasure. I quickly forgot all about the overly eager pursuit of the Dowager Baroness as I shared the pleasures of being with Freya. After we had sated ourselves completely, we slept peacefully in a loving embrace.
The morning came with a knock on my door that woke both Freya and I. I moaned but Freya nudged me on the chin.
“Time to wake you lazy bones.” Freya said with a laugh.
“I am not a morning person.” I said with a groan.
“Don't I know it! You were quiet the beast were you not?” Freya teased then laughed at me.
The knock on the door was more instant as I rose and put on my dressing gown. Opening the door slightly was Gus and the Dowager Baroness.
“It is early, what is it?” I asked.
“We have prepared a very special meal for you this morning.” Said Lady Grogda with a frown while she tried to look around me into the chamber.
“I see. Well, give me some time to properly dress and I will be down shortly.” I stated and continued to Gus “Have Lukas bring my shaving kit.”
“Right away, Lord Wyatt.” Gus said as he motioned down the hall where I assumed Lukas was.
About forty five minutes later and having snuck Freya out of my chamber, I was fully shaved and dressed in my dark red outfit and black beret hat that actually looked really good on me. Upon entering the great hall, I saw Lady Ludmilla seated. Lady Grogda taking me by the arm led me again to the Viscount's chair where she seated herself next to me.
“Where is Lord Skafhoggr, Lady Ludmilla?” I asked her directly.
Lady Ludmilla was quiet for a moment then said, “I guess he is sleeping. The meetings with the military commanders drag on for hours and hours. I hardly ever see him these days.” Lady Ludmilla said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Is that so. Very well as it can not be helped. Please send my regards to Lord Skafhoggr for his hospitality. I was informed that the king would have a messages for me that Lord Skafhoggr was to give me. Could you ask Lord Skafhoggr for them?” I asked as I suspected something was just not right.
“Oh. Ah. I will of course ask my Lord Vincent for the king's message once morning meal is finished.” Lady Ludmilla said and looked discombobulated.
“I see. Please do so. The king ordered me to arrive in Camelot immediately. I can not dally and spend extra time as I normally would do. I hope you understand.” I said making extra emphasis on the king's order part.
“Yes. What the king commands we all must obey.” Lady Ludmilla said sourly but not looking at me.
Lady Ludmilla then clapped her hands and the servants brought in the morning meal. What surprised me was my meal was different from everyone else. Looking at both Lady Ludmilla and Lady Grogda something in the back on my head screamed warning warning.
The silver plate before me was a type of stew with a strong overpowering spice scent. I frowned and began to think hard and fast.
“This is a specialty from the High Valley region. I hope you like it.” Lady Grogda said with no expression at all.
My alarm bells went off even stronger this time. A footman came over to fill my cup which I deliberately knocked over and profusely apologized for my clumsiness.
“You know, I am from the High Valley region too. I have never been a fan of overly spiced foods. Lets see how spicy it is.” I stated and took a scoop with a spoon and handed it to the footman to taste.
The footman was surprised but more than happy to taste the food as it was obvious that food for the staff was very plain and simple.
“You should not do that! It is not right!” Lady Grogda said as she stood up showing more alarm than outrage.
The footman had already consumed the sample where he at first looked like he liked it. However, he suddenly started to choke as his face turned bright red and falling to his knees. Lady Ludmilla stood up in horror as the footman was gagging begging for water. I handed him my silver chalice with what I assumed was apple cider where he chugged it down then begged for more.
Finally, after three more cups of water given by another footman, first footman just lay on his back almost in a stupor. It was as if his mind was blank.
“What is this?” I asked as I pointed to my meal looking at both Lady Ludmilla and Lady Grogda.
“I do not know!” Said Lady Ludmilla looking at her mother with a strange look.
“Do not give me that! What did you do?” I demanded with a my voiced raised and now pointing my finger at them.
“It was a love potion. It was to make you like me.” Said Lady Grogda meekly and looking sheepishly at the ground.
“Seriously! That was more than a simple love potion!” I yelled my outrage.
“I swear that is all it was. I had to hide its not so pleasant taste with spice.” Lady Grogda stated her defense but still not able to look me in the eye.
“Lady Ludmilla, I must now ask that you bring me the king's message as I am now leaving Avalon.” I commanded with rage in my countenance.
Lady Ludmilla fled the great hall without replying. Lady Grogda just sat down with her head down looking at the floor saying nothing.
With exasperation, I called out to my people. “House of Wyatt, Ladies and girls we are leaving! Quickly gather your things and be out front within a little span!”
With that, I stormed out of the great hall to the shock of all present. Up in the guest chamber, I changed clothes into my bluejeans, a blue shirt and a tan leather vest. Pulling on my boots and strapping on my weapons belt, I looked over seeing Gus and Lukas already packed up my discarded clothing and was ready to leave as they were staying clear of my angry outbursts.
Down at the carts, I ordered my guards to ready themselves to leave. I sent Lukas to call all the servants in the inn to be ready to leave immediately. Razor and Meowth jumped down from their perch on the first two carriages with questioning looks.
“They tried to poison me! Can you believe it?” I said angrily as I swept my arm to point at the fortress.
“Meow Lord Wyatt, that is clawful. Do you want meow to use them like a scratching post?” Asked Meowth as her tail went straight in what I assumed was either surprise or anger.
Razor just gave a low grumbling growl with teeth bared as he looked at the fortress.
Forty minutes later as my people were loading up, Lady Ludmilla approached with her head down.
“I am sorry Lord Wyatt. It seems you do not have any messages from the king.” Lady Ludmilla said never once looking me in the eye.
“I see. Send a message to the king that I left Avalon today and as commanded traveling as quickly as I can. The king is expecting my update so make sure it is properly sent!” I said with a warning.
I ordered a florse saddled for I needed fresh air as I was still furious. I actually led our people out and toward the main north south road which Nick panicked a bit and settled with riding next to me. As we approached the main crossroads of the city, I saw a large dinning hall and ordered a halt for all of our people to have breakfast. The meal consisted of roasted mutton, eggs, apple pancakes and apple jam. They also had fresh chilled milk and apple cider which really went well with the sweet dishes. Our group apparently cleaned them out and they had to turn away a few customers until mid day.
After breakfast, I went to the adventurer's guild that was a few buildings to the south. It was a four story building of decent size. I allowed Old Maude with a one of the house guards to go to the apothecary shop across the road along with the two Alphardian servants Aura and Sylvia. Inside the adventurer's guild, I asked for Marine as instructed. It was then I learned that Marine was Zack Talley's girl where they were to marry soon as she proudly let me know her good news.
“Zack said to tell you this is a level one escort. Whatever that means.” I repeated what Zack had told me to say.
“Thank you. It simply means Zack thinks there would be no problems and just being present is enough to discourage any potential thieves. The total is two hundred fifty denari for basic escort with an A ranked adventurer.” Marine said with a smile
After paying the fee for the job request, I asked Marine to speak to someone about Andros that was brought in by man guard Lars.
“I am Supervisor Etan Borg and assistant to Guild Master Henry Stewart. It is a pleasure to be at your service Count Wyatt.” Stated Etan with a salute and bow.
“Pleasure is mine.” I replied with a salute and nod of my head.
“We have investigated Andros. His party the Finders of Avalon specialize in retrieving lost items or stolen goods from thieves. It appears his party was specifically requested to recover a lost ventu volpis. We do not have any more details for the job other than this.” Etan stated as he read from a page in his hand.
“Who hired them to steal from me? Make no mistake, they were hired to steal from me!” I said as I was showing my anger and frustration.
“Normally, we would not disclose who posted job requests to those not apart of the contract. However, given the circumstances, I was instructed to tell you it was Viscountess Lady Ludmilla. It seems she contracted and paid a merchant from Xanadu for a ventu volpis. It is our understanding that merchant was placed on a Quenya trade ship where he will go on trial for his many crimes in Svarta. The Finders of Avalon should not have tried to take your ventu volpis. Nor should they have taken on the job given the crimes of the merchant without more information.” Etan explained what the guild knew.
“What will happen to Andros?” I asked frankly.
“The Guild Master will hold a hearing with S and an A ranked members who will advise on the issues. I expect he will be found guilty but will escape the ten year punishment. More like one to two years of labor for the guild doing low ranked jobs that no one wants while being supervised by myself or a C ranked or higher adventurer. His pay will be one third of normal with the rest going to repay the guild and costs associated with his lapse in judgment.” Etan replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I see. The thing that irks me is they attacked my people and wounded one of my guards with a slinger's stone.” I explained my outrage.
“I was not aware of this fact. Master Stewart will compensate you as the law requires. Unfortunately, Master Stewart left for Camelot for meetings with the war counsel on Astria's response to the Empire's latest invasion. I will send a filoxis to let Master Stewart know that there was injury, offense and honor requirements. I understand you will be traveling to Camelot and am certain Master Stewart will seek you out to give you a formal apology and see you are properly compensated.” Etan stated with a salute and bow.
“Good enough. Let me know the outcome of the hearing for Andros. I do not like loose ends and a potential enemy looking for revenge.” I said mater of factually.
“Understood. I will relay your concerns to Master Stewart. Etan replied with another salute and bow.
Leaving the adventure's guild, I decided to visit the tradesman's guild and merchant's storefront while Old Maude was still busy across the street. The girls came with me as they had been requesting things like combs, brushes and scented oils plus a few other special feminine items they needed.
Once all the girls got what they were needing and getting those items stowed with their baggage, Old Maude came back with a small crate filled with items to make medicines. While the baggage was being loaded and sorted, I went to see the information broker's desk and inquired about Chamberlain Robert Duffy. I paid the requested fee of one erythro given his status in the city. I was shown a file which listed the qualities, character and known habits of Robert. There was a section about vices and food preferences. The only vice was seeing a woman who was a widow listed as a paid mistress. Basically, Robert was a straight as an arrow honorable man. I smiled as the report made me feel better about who I was helping.
Finally, with everyone loaded up, we headed out of the city of Avalon over the southern main bridge and gate that was just like the north one but slightly longer with a guard tower protected draw bridge section to let ships pass. After about two hours, I had calmed down enough that I rode in the carriage as was expected of a person of rank. I just looked out seeing nothing but the vast wheat fields of the Capital Region realizing how lucky I had been to escape the evils of the ladies of Fortress Avalon.
2024.05.20 02:54 No-Business-8589 Sick to my stomach and losing my mind
I have a 3 and 9 year old. My nine year old is adhd to the max. The three year old is amazing. I lost my job during the pandemic and have been a full time stay home parent since then. My wife is a doctor and makes good money. The pandemic split most of core friend group up and we decided to move out of state and get a kind of fresh start. We moved to a higher altitude and I developed epilepsy from the altitude and was hospitalized for multiple weeks. My seizures are every three months and I couldn’t drive for three months afterwards. I was totally isolated, wife works all the time, managing a facility and my only companions have been my children. My wife basically only talks about her job, the problems of it and her happy little relationships with coworkers. If I look away during these conversations I’m chastised for not paying attention to her. This is most of our conversations. We have moved back home and are now adjusting being back. My wife took not only one job here but added another one because that’s where she wants to work permanently. She now is working 50-60 hours a week and this is her choice. I get out of bed a couple of times a night to help the three year old get back to bed. I get up around 5:30 to 6 when the youngest gets up. I wake my nine year old up and get him ready for his meds. Meds at seven then to school forty five minutes later. He fights me, screams etc. from sunrise to sundown. It turns me into a total monster. I try to not get frustrated but it’s so exhausting. Meanwhile, my wife is in bed. That’s where she spends nearly every extra minute she has. it does not matter what day it is, when or when not she has to work, she’s in that bed, doom scrolling or watching some trash crime show. It is also becoming quite apparent that she will wait until the oldest is gone and then come out of our room. She for the most part refuses to help around the house because that’s my job. She throws a fit when asked to help with the boys, changing a diaper, go to the grocery give a bath etc. It’s my job. Shes a ghost in our home. I’m constantly belittled because I just sit around the house all day and do nothing. Its very frustrating. I listen to her talk about her things all the time, but am just lazy or complaining if I try and vent. I am always angry, and have been forever. My mother and father were not great parents. My dad died before my children were born. I have gone no contact with my mother. She has expectations that I will fix her life that she’s neglected. She lives 30 minutes away and I have no plans on seeing her until she’s headed under earth. I have my friends here still which is nice. Most have kids, but I can’t take my oldest anywhere around them anymore. He’s destructive, does not listen, yells and screams, talks back. He thinks about nothing before he does it. So here I am, totally isolated again. I am absolutely exhausted by 8pm, but am not allowed to go to bed until the nine year old is asleep. When that’s done, I have to try to sleep with the lights on and a tv show being being played. I ask for it to be quiet, but am just told to go to sleep. She tells me that I should hang out with my friends after he is asleep, but I don’t want to go out when I have to get up at five or earlier. I’ve been drinking too much, beers, and smoking too much reefer, but it feels better to just be on cruise control. I’m not sure what to do. I ask my wife to find some time on her days off to spend some time together but it never really happens. The kid is ruining my life. I don’t know what to do. I get no time alone. If I ask her to watch him for a few hours it’s a fight. I’m so fucking tired. The times I do hang out at my friends house, I just go sit in a room alone for the quiet. Hopefully we can find childcare soon and things will be a little better. I do all of the domestic household stuff as well as, do all the work on our vehicles, mow etc. I am expected to be a plumber, an electrician whatever, and am held responsible for my inadequate ability to do something that I’ve only learned three minutes ago on YouTube. Im constantly called lazy. She has begun to do what feels like me being held financially hostage. She tells me my phone is her phone, my car is her car etc. She tells me the only things I own are a few sentimental things I have. That she owns everything else. I know this isn’t true but its rugged to be told that. I bought a couple of work books to work through my anger issues and she made fun of me for it. I feel like I work hard and give good effort but don’t feel like I’ve done anything right. Thanks for reading my blog post.
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2024.05.20 00:55 Bobert858668 Looking for critique on my Arthurian legend based tv show pilot!
EXT. CAMELOT - CASTLE DAY
(The castle of Camelot stands over grassy hills and crystal clear rolling rivers and seas. Gray clouds cover the sky and hundreds of soldiers and knights can be seen riding toward the castle. Text appears on the screen reading “CAMELOT” and then “CENTURIES AGO”.)
INT. CASTLE - THRONE ROOM - DAY
(MORGANA LE FAY (Centuries-Old), a beautiful middle aged appearing woman with sharp features and long flowing black hair, sits on the throne and holds Excalibur, the Crown of Camelot sits upon her head. Knights and soldiers march in linear motions through the hall. DEWIN (30s), a scruffily charming magician, enters in handcuffs, with guards behind him. Dewin marches up and presents himself to Morgana. Everyone in the room halts.)
MORGANA: State your name.
DEWIN: You know my name, Morgana.
MORGANA: State your name.
DEWIN: Dewinson of Merlin.
MORGANA: You are being tried with treason and conspiracy against the crown. Do you plead guilty to these crimes?
DEWIN: That depends.
MORGANA: On what?
DEWIN: Who you consider the crown to be.
(Dewin slips his handcuffs off and as he does three Blue Jays come flying out of his sleeve and begin to fly around the room.)
MORGANA: Enough foolishness. I find you guilty of the accusations placed upon you.
DEWIN: Then kill me.
MORGANA: Hm?
DEWIN: Let’s skip past the chatter and get my head on a platter. You see what I did there? Chatter platter.
MORGANA: Silence! Death is far too good for you.
DEWIN: Do your worst, no matter what Camelot will fall.
MORGANA: Is that a threat?
DEWIN: A threat would be something I plan on doing to you myself, the fall of Camelot, well that will be purely your doing.
(Morgana gets off the throne and draws a glowing circle around Dewin with Excalibur, as she does so Dewin lets out a small laugh.)
DEWIN: Binding me? My imprisonment shall not halter the winds of time.
MORGANA: I banish you.
DEWIN: What?
MORGANA: From this plane of time and place I banish you.
DEWIN: Not even you have the power to do that. Banishment spells have been hidden away for ages.
MORGANA: Hidden away in scrolls buried in this very castle. Dilflannu o’r awyren hon.
DEWIN: No.
MORGANA: Dilflannu o’r amser hwn.
DEWIN: No, no, stop.
MORGANA: Dilflannu o’r meddwl. Rwy’n eich gwahardd!
(Morgana’s eyes turn purple and electricity sparks all around Dewin and seems to be sucking the energy out of him.)
EXT. LONDON - FOREST - DAY
(A plain and put together autumnal forest. Text appears over the screen reading “LONDON” and then “EIGHTEEN EIGHTY FIVE”. Electricity sparks and Dewin appears in the forest dazed and confused. He is covered in scars and almost immediately passes out face forward into the ground.)
EXT. LONDON - FOREST - DAY
(As night begins to dawn Dewin is still incapacitated. A carriage led by a horse named, Sally, comes through the forest and halts at Dewin. ALDEN SMITH (Early 40s), a plump and posh man with a defining bushy mustache, cautiously hops out of the carriage. Alden looks around for a moment before spotting Dewin. Alden approaches Dewin and checks his pulse through his arm. Alden’s eyes linger on Dewin for a moment before looking up.)
ALDEN: Hello!? Is anybody there!?
(Alden waits for a moment before looking back down at Dewin. Alden sighs and then lifts Dewin up and into the carriage before hopping in himself. Alden pulls on the horse’s reins and it begins to march forward.)
EXT. LONDON - WICING DRIVE - NIGHT
(Alden drives his carriage down Wicing Drive and parks in front of a townhome, Twenty Six Wicing Drive. Alden gets out of the carriage, carrying Dewin, and walks up the steps. MINERVA SMITH (Early 40s), a stern yet radiant woman, opens the door in shock.)
ALDEN: It’s a long story.
INT. TWENTY SIX WICING DRIVE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
(A stereotypical Victorian living room made primarily of oak and illuminated by two small oil lamps and a burning fireplace. Dewin is still incapacitated and lies on the table covered in bandages, Alden and Minerva hover over him. Bottles of ointment sit next to Dewin.)
MINERVA: What were you doing in the woods?
ALDEN: It’s the fastest cut home.
MINERVA: And you just-
(Minerva is interrupted by Dewin’s sighing as he wakes up.)
DEWIN: Ah! Where am I? Who are you?
MINERVA: My name is Minnie, and this is my husband, Alden.
DEWIN: What’s happening?
ALDEN: I found you all bruised in the middle of the forest. Do you know what happened to you?
DEWIN: Morgana le Fay banished me.
(Alden and Minerva glance at each other.)
MINERVA: Oh lord, I think you're a bit confused.
DEWIN: I am not confused. I am Dewin, son of Merlin. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask if you could take me to a sage or healer?
MINERVA: Of course, Alden can take you tomorrow morning, but for the night you can stay here.
DEWIN: Why, thank you.
ALDEN: Minnie, may I speak to you in the other room?
MINERVA: Of course.
(Alden and Minerva step into the kitchen.)
INT. TWENTY SIX WICING DRIVE - KITCHEN - NIGHT
ALDEN: We can not keep this man in our home. He is mentally insane.
MINERVA: Which means we must watch over him.
ALDEN: I am looking out for our safety.
MINERVA: And where would we take him?
ALDEN: I don’t know. He is as mad as the Doeth man!
MINERVA: Then that’s where we’ll take him.
ALDEN: Stick to nuts together?
MINERVA: The man has some common sense and he’s very compassionate.
ALDEN: Perfect.
EXT. LONDON - ALDRICH’S HOUSE - NIGHT
(Alden and Minerva Dewin sit in their carriage with Dewin outside of a small house that is slightly separated from the other homes on the street.)
DEWIN: So this is the home of a healer?
ALDEN: According to him. I will go to the door alone, I do not want to scare him.
(Alden gets out of the carriage and starts heading towards the home.)
MINERVA: So you really do believe that you are the son of Merlin.
DEWIN: I know who my father was. Why is this such a puzzle for you and your husband to wrap your heads around?
MINERVA: Why I’ve only heard stories of Camelot, myths of ancient pasts.
DEWIN: So Morgana not only shifted my place but also the time.
(Alden knocks on the home's door and is greeted by ALDRICH DOETH (Hundreds Of Years Old), an older looking man with crystals strapped around his neck.)
ALDRICH: Doctor Smith, have they finally sent someone to take me away to a nuthouse?
ALDEN: On the exact contrary, I’ve found a wounded man who claims to have been sent here by Morgana le Fay.
ALDRICH: That’s what the shift was!
ALDEN: What? You know what it doesn’t matter, as long as you’re willing to take this man.
ALDRICH: Yes, yes, bring him to me.
ALDEN: Minerva, send him up!
(Dewin comes up to the door.)
DEWIN: Hello.
ALDRICH: My goodness, the energy pulsates off of you.
DEWIN (TO ALDEN): This is the healer?
ALDEN: Yes. Now if you two don’t mind I think I will be headed back on my way.
ALDRICH: Are you sure, Doctor? It’s getting rather late, you and your wife are welcome to stay here.
ALDEN: Thank you, but there’s no need.
(Rain starts pouring out of the sky out of nowhere and thunder and lighting begin.)
ALDRICH: What about now, Doctor?
ALDEN: Minnie! We’re staying here tonight!
INT. ALDRICH’S HOUSE - LIVING SPACE - DAY
(A cluttered mess of books, candles, and potions. Aldrich, Alden, Minerva, and Dewin sit on Aldrich’s circular array of couches and chairs.)
ALDRICH: Before we dive in I suggest you go wash off, Dewin. The washroom is that small one to your left.
DEWIN: Thank you, Aldrich.
(Dewin gets up and goes into the washroom.)
ALDRICH: I know what you two think of me, the neighborhood’s resident crazy.
MINERVA: Not at all, Mister Doeth.
ALDRICH: Don’t lie, Minerva, our actions all come back to bite us.
ALDEN: So we think you're mental, what of it?
ALDRICH: There are dark forces amongst us, Mister and Misses Smith. I believe that Dewin is here to save us.
ALDEN: I appreciate you letting us stay here, but I think it’s time we leave.
ALDRICH: I will change this storm into an earthquake to keep you here if I must.
ALDEN: Come on, Minnie.
(Alden and Minerva get up and go to leave when the whole room begins to shake.)
ALDEN: What’s happening!?
ALDRICH: I warned you.
(Aldrich makes silencing symbols with his hands and the storm and the shaking stops.)
ALDRICH: Now will you listen to me?
(Alden and Minerva both sit back down.)
ALDEN: What are you?
AlDRICH: A magician, a clairvoyant, a healer, I am all of those things and more.
ALDEN: Why do you want us here so badly?
ALDRICH: I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you are the one who found Dewin, Doctor Smith. He needs a guide in this vast new world. Prophecy states that when the second coming of the Camelot war comes, the savior will have a protector.
ALDEN: And why me?
ALDRICH: There are questions that only we can answer ourselves.
(Dewin comes out of the washroom and sits back down.)
ALDRICH: Dewin, please tell me exactly how you arrived here.
DEWIN: Morgana le Fay used an ancient banishing spell on me.
ALDRICH: The fall of Camelot.
(Suddenly a wind sweeps through the room that blows out all the candles.)
MINERVA: Mister Doeth, are you doing this?
ALDRICH: No.
(A match is lit in the center of the room to reveal GWENWYN LIGHTWOOD (Centuries-Old), a green draconic humanoid woman in black robes and a hood.)
GWENWYN: Aldrich.
ALDRICH: Lady Lightwood.
GWENWYN: I’ve tracked a shift in magic to your home.
ALDRICH: It is this boy, he was banished here from Camelot.
(Gwenwyn goes up to Dewin and takes her hood off to reveal her scaly appearance. Alden gasps in disbelief. Gwenwyn runs her finger down Dewin’s cheek.)
GWENWYN (TO ALDRICH): Hm. I presume you wish to let him roam freely?
ALDRICH: With guidance, yes.
GWENWYN: If one thing goes wrong you will be punished.
ALDRICH: I know.
DEWIN (TO GWENWYN): Who are you?
GWENWYN: The last of the dragons. Just as Aldrich is the last descendent of the Family Merlin.
DEWIN (TO ALDRICH): You're a descendant of my father?
ALDRICH: Of his sister, I have many of her poems and spell tombs still intact here.
GWENWYN: Magic is rare these days, endangered, most people don’t even know it exists. So are we under agreement on the boy, Aldrich?
ALDRICH: Yes, but something is still troubling. If you and I both felt Dewin’s presence then-
GWENWYN: Benjamin did too.
DEWIN: Who is Benjamin?
ALDRICH: A descendant of Morgana who wishes to rule the earth under her ideals.
GWENWYN: A very very dangerous man who will certainly kill me if he finds me here.
(Gwenwyn’s match extinguishes and after a moment the candles all reignite but Gwenwyn is gone.)
ALDEN: By Jove!
ALDRICH: So do you all accept this challenge?
DEWIN: What challenge?
ALDRICH: Defeating Benjamin Fayle.
DEWIN: Of course!
ALDEN: Absolutely not.
ALDRICH: Are you that repulsed by compassion?
ALDEN: I can’t risk Minerva of I’s life on what could all be me hallucinating.
ALDRICH: You're risking the world for a craven excuse.
ALDEN: Goodbye.
(Alden gets up.)
ALDEN: Let’s leave, Minnie.
MINERVA: Thank you for your hospitality, Mister Doeth, and good luck.
(Alden leaves, followed by Minerva.)
EXT. LONDON - ALDRICH’S HOUSE - NIGHT
(Alden and Minerva ride through the street in their carriage.)
MINERVA: We were definitely drugged.
ALDEN: Absolutely.
EXT. LONDON - WICING DRIVE - NIGHT
(Alden and Minerva hop out of their carriage.)
ALDEN: I’m going to bring Sally back to the stables.
MINERVA: Goodnight, love you.
ALDEN: I love you most.
(Minerva goes up and enters Twenty Six Wicing Drive as Alden detaches Sally from the carriage and begins to guide her down the cobbled sidewalk with one of his hands on her reins.)
EXT. LONDON - FOREST - NIGHT
(Alden guides Sally through the forest to a set of stables. Sally suddenly rears up and neighs in terror.)
ALDEN: What is it Sally?
(Sally suddenly breaks off her reins and runs towards the stables. A figure in a dark purple hood and robe sweeps past Alden and their eyes glow purple. Alden screams.)
INT. TWENTY SIX WICING DRIVE - BEDROOM- DAY
(Alden and Minerva lay next to each other asleep in bed. Alden wakes up screaming which awakens Minerva.)
MINERVA: What’s the matter?
ALDEN: Just a night terror.
MINERVA: We did the right thing with Dewin, he’s with someone like him now.
ALDEN: Is that really a good thing? I think I’m going to go to the pub.
MINERVA: This early in the morning?
ALDEN: I need to clear my head after yesterday.
INT. GRIFFIN’S TAIL PUB - DAY
(A traditional Victorian pub. Dewin sits at the bar and is served by BRYNN CROWING (Early 30s), a charming bartender.)
BRYNN: What can I get you, Mate?
DEWIN: Just a pint of mead, please.
(Brynn goes and pours Dewin a pint of mead that she brings back to him and he begins drinking.)
BRYNN: I like your outfit, it’s very medieval.
DEWIN: It was made by the tailor of Sir Gawain.
(Brynn gives a light chuckle.)
BRYNN: What’s your name?
DEWIN: Dewin, and yours?
BRYNN: Brynn.
(Alden enters and sees Dewin. Alden leaves, but as he does he spots another person in a dark purple robe and hood with glowing purple eyes.)
DEWIN: You're very beautiful.
BRYNN: Why, thank you.
DEWIN: Would you like to go for a stroll?
BRYNN: My shift here doesn’t end till six.
DEWIN: Then I’ll see you then.
BRYNN: I guess you will.
(Dewin finishes his mead and drops two silver coins with dragons etched into them on the bar before swiftly leaving. Brynn picks up the coins and looks at them with confusion and yearning.)
EXT. LONDON - ALDRICH’S HOUSE - DAY
(Alden knocks on the door and Aldrich opens it.)
ALDRICH: I’ve been expecting you, come in.
(Alden follows Aldrich into the home.)
INT. - ALDRICH’S HOUSE - LIVING SPACE - DAY
(Alden and Aldrich sit across from each other.)
ALDRICH: Can I offer you some tea?
ALDEN: No thank you, I want to be in the clearest state of mind possible here.
ALDRICH: So what ignited your appearance here?
ALDEN: I’ve been seeing these people.
ALDRICH: Who are “these people”?
ALDEN: They wear these dark robes and their eyes glow purple.
ALDRICH: Faley’s society.
ALDEN: What?
ALDRICH: Benjamin Faley, the evil man I mentioned last night. Is this what caused you to believe?
ALDEN: What are you saying?
ALDRICH: That you believe in magic.
ALDEN: You're mad.
ALDRICH: Exactly, so the fact that you came to me shows that there’s at least one lingering thought in your mind that magic is reality and reality is magic.
(There’s a moment of silence between Alden and Aldrich.)
ALDRICH: Where have you been seeing the people you mentioned?
ALDEN: Everywhere that Dewin has been.
ALDRICH: Oh no, oh no, no, no.
ALDEN: What is it?
ALDRICH: Dewin is going out with a woman tonight.
ALDEN: Already? He’s only been here for a day.
ALDRICH: He's charming but also so foolish. You must watch them, in case Faley strikes or even worse this woman is working for him.
ALDEN: What could I even do to stop that?
ALDRICH: You are destined to protect Dewin, and at this point your logic for denying all of this is purely irrational. You're not hesitating because you think it’s not real, you're hesitating because you know it is. He is meeting her at six outside of the “Griffin’s Tail”.
ALDEN: I’m not going.
ALDRICH: We both know that you will.
ALDEN: Farewell, Mister Doeth.
ALDRICH: May the spirit of Merlin be with you, Doctor Smith.
(Alden gets up and leaves.)
EXT. LONDON - GRIFFIN’S TAIL PUB - NIGHT
(Dewin stands outside of the pub when Brynn comes out of the side door and walks towards him.)
BRYNN: I wasn’t expecting you to show.
DEWIN: Why wouldn’t I?
BRYNN: Most men flirt and then leave, half of them are married.
DEWIN: They are not true gentlemen then.
BRYNN: I suppose not.
DEWIN: Shall we begin walking?
BRYNN: Sure.
EXT. LONDON - STREETS - NIGHT
(Dewin and Brynn stroll down the streets of London. Alden follows them from a distance.)
DEWIN: This world is so beautiful.
BRYNN: Compared to all the other worlds you’ve been to?
DEWIN: Well Camelot obviously has a better scenic view.
BRYNN: Camelot?
DEWIN: My home land.
BRYNN: You're full of jokes.
DEWIN: I’m not joking.
BRYNN: What?
(Suddenly someone grabs Brynn into an alleyway and she screams. Dewin quickly turns to see no one beside him and runs after her, followed by Alden.)
EXT. LONDON - ROOFTOP - NIGHT
(The clear skies suddenly turn gray and ominous as Dewin arrives on the roof of a building to see three people with glowing purple eyes in the dark purple robes and hoods with one standing in the center holding Brynn with a dagger to her neck. Alden arrives on the rooftop.)
ALDEN: Bloody hell!
DEWIN: Let go of her!
(The three people take off their hoods and their eyes go to normal shades. The person holding Brynn is revealed to be DABRIA (30s), a menacing looking woman.)
DABRIA: Dim mynd i mewn dim dianc.
(A purple hazy force field appears around the edges of the rooftop.)
DABRIA: So you are the one sent to stop us.
DEWIN: What do you connote?
DABRIA: We are the Citadel of le Fay.
DEWIN: Oh no.
DABRIA: Who are you?
DEWIN: My name is Dewin, I am the son of Merlin, and I demand that you let Brynn go.
DABRIA: Why? Is she your protector?
BRYNN: Dewin, what are they talking about!?
(Dewin starts to move his hands around and a wispy blue energy begins to come out of them.)
DABRIA: Get him!
(The two other people with Dabria rush towards Dewin to attack him, but he uses the energy he created to push them around and drop them both to the ground. Dabria drops Brynn and her dagger and Alden rushes to pick up the dagger and succeeds.)
DABRIA: You are foolish, Dewin.
(Dabria pulls a gun out of her robes and shoots it at Dewin but he turns the bullet into a flower. Dabria shoots more but each time Dewin does the same thing until Dabria is out of bullets. Alden sneaks up behind Dabria and stabs her in the back. Dabria shrieks in pain and then disappears in a cloud of black smoke. Brynn gets up off of the ground.)
BRYNN: What the hell just happened?
DEWIN: Are you okay?
BRYNN: Not mentally. What in the world is going on here? How did you turn bullets into flowers!?
DEWIN: I told you I’m from Camelot.
(Alden drops the dagger.)
ALDEN: Did I just kill that woman?
DEWIN: Most likely not, you didn’t stab deep enough to hit any organs.
BRYNN: What do we do now?
DEWIN: Go home and call it a night.
BRYNN: I can’t forget about this.
DEWIN: I’m not asking you to.
ALDEN: If any of us speak of this people think we’re insane.
DEWIN: Then don’t speak of it.
BRYNN: Will I see you again, Dewin?
DEWIN: Did you enjoy tonight?
BRYNN: I was almost killed.
DEWIN: That doesn’t answer my question.
BRYNN: Meet at the pub on Friday after my shift.
INT. TWENTY SIX WICING DRIVE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
(Alden and Minerva lay next to each other.)
MINERVA: Do you think the Citadel will return?
ALDEN: Unequivocally.
MINERVA: What have we gotten into?
INT. BENJAMIN’S LAIR - NIGHT
(A cavern full of crystals and magical runes. BENJAMIN FALEY (30s or 40s), an attractive but uptight looking man, sits on his throne. Dabria enters and walks to face the throne, she bows and then gets back up.)
BENJAMIN: Did you find him?
DABRIA: Yes, Master Faley.
BENJAMIN: And did you find his protector?
DABRIA: Yes, but it’s not the girl.
BENJAMIN: Then who?
DABRIA: A Doctor Alden Smith.
BENJAMIN: Did you kill the doctor?
DABRIA: He deeply wounded me.
BENJAMIN: Then the battle goes on.
DABRIA: For Morgana.
BENJAMIN: For Morgana.
INT. ALDRICH’S HOUSE - LIVING SPACE - NIGHT
(Aldrich and Dewin sit across from each other drinking tea.)
ALDRICH: There are many things in this world, Dewin…
INT. GWENWYN’S CAVE - NIGHT
(Gwenwyn stands in the middle of a circle of candles. She stretches out her hands and forms magic blue charts and graphs with a picture of Dewin.)
ALDRICH (VOICE OVER): Forces we can’t explain…
EXT. LONDON - ALLEYWAY- NIGHT
(Brynn wears only her undergarments and takes a few coins from a man.)
ALDRICH (VOICE OVER): Secrets we hide…
INT. BENJAMIN’S LAIR - NIGHT
(Benjamin sits on his throne.)
ALDRICH (VOICE OVER): And villains we must defeat.
INT. ALDRICH’S HOUSE - LIVING SPACE - NIGHT
ALDRICH: You are the key to this all, Dewin, you are the son of Merlin.
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(The castle of Camelot stands over grassy hills and crystal clear rolling rivers and seas. Gray clouds cover the sky and hundreds of soldiers and knights can be seen riding toward the castle. Text appears on the screen reading “CAMELOT” and then “CENTURIES AGO”.)
INT. CASTLE - THRONE ROOM - DAY
(MORGANA LE FAY (Centuries-Old), a beautiful middle aged appearing woman with sharp features and long flowing black hair, sits on the throne and holds Excalibur, the Crown of Camelot sits upon her head. Knights and soldiers march in linear motions through the hall. DEWIN (30s), a scruffily charming magician, enters in handcuffs, with guards behind him. Dewin marches up and presents himself to Morgana. Everyone in the room halts.)
MORGANA: State your name.
DEWIN: You know my name, Morgana.
MORGANA: State your name.
DEWIN: Dewinson of Merlin.
MORGANA: You are being tried with treason and conspiracy against the crown. Do you plead guilty to these crimes?
DEWIN: That depends.
MORGANA: On what?
DEWIN: Who you consider the crown to be.
(Dewin slips his handcuffs off and as he does three Blue Jays come flying out of his sleeve and begin to fly around the room.)
MORGANA: Enough foolishness. I find you guilty of the accusations placed upon you.
DEWIN: Then kill me.
MORGANA: Hm?
DEWIN: Let’s skip past the chatter and get my head on a platter. You see what I did there? Chatter platter.
MORGANA: Silence! Death is far too good for you.
DEWIN: Do your worst, no matter what Camelot will fall.
MORGANA: Is that a threat?
DEWIN: A threat would be something I plan on doing to you myself, the fall of Camelot, well that will be purely your doing.
(Morgana gets off the throne and draws a glowing circle around Dewin with Excalibur, as she does so Dewin lets out a small laugh.)
DEWIN: Binding me? My imprisonment shall not halter the winds of time.
MORGANA: I banish you.
DEWIN: What?
MORGANA: From this plane of time and place I banish you.
DEWIN: Not even you have the power to do that. Banishment spells have been hidden away for ages.
MORGANA: Hidden away in scrolls buried in this very castle. Dilflannu o’r awyren hon.
DEWIN: No.
MORGANA: Dilflannu o’r amser hwn.
DEWIN: No, no, stop.
MORGANA: Dilflannu o’r meddwl. Rwy’n eich gwahardd!
(Morgana’s eyes turn purple and electricity sparks all around Dewin and seems to be sucking the energy out of him.)
EXT. LONDON - FOREST - DAY
(A plain and put together autumnal forest. Text appears over the screen reading “LONDON” and then “EIGHTEEN EIGHTY FIVE”. Electricity sparks and Dewin appears in the forest dazed and confused. He is covered in scars and almost immediately passes out face forward into the ground.)
EXT. LONDON - FOREST - DAY
(As night begins to dawn Dewin is still incapacitated. A carriage led by a horse named, Sally, comes through the forest and halts at Dewin. ALDEN SMITH (Early 40s), a plump and posh man with a defining bushy mustache, cautiously hops out of the carriage. Alden looks around for a moment before spotting Dewin. Alden approaches Dewin and checks his pulse through his arm. Alden’s eyes linger on Dewin for a moment before looking up.)
ALDEN: Hello!? Is anybody there!?
(Alden waits for a moment before looking back down at Dewin. Alden sighs and then lifts Dewin up and into the carriage before hopping in himself. Alden pulls on the horse’s reins and it begins to march forward.)
EXT. LONDON - WICING DRIVE - NIGHT
(Alden drives his carriage down Wicing Drive and parks in front of a townhome, Twenty Six Wicing Drive. Alden gets out of the carriage, carrying Dewin, and walks up the steps. MINERVA SMITH (Early 40s), a stern yet radiant woman, opens the door in shock.)
ALDEN: It’s a long story.
INT. TWENTY SIX WICING DRIVE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
(A stereotypical Victorian living room made primarily of oak and illuminated by two small oil lamps and a burning fireplace. Dewin is still incapacitated and lies on the table covered in bandages, Alden and Minerva hover over him. Bottles of ointment sit next to Dewin.)
MINERVA: What were you doing in the woods?
ALDEN: It’s the fastest cut home.
MINERVA: And you just-
(Minerva is interrupted by Dewin’s sighing as he wakes up.)
DEWIN: Ah! Where am I? Who are you?
MINERVA: My name is Minnie, and this is my husband, Alden.
DEWIN: What’s happening?
ALDEN: I found you all bruised in the middle of the forest. Do you know what happened to you?
DEWIN: Morgana le Fay banished me.
(Alden and Minerva glance at each other.)
MINERVA: Oh lord, I think you're a bit confused.
DEWIN: I am not confused. I am Dewin, son of Merlin. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask if you could take me to a sage or healer?
MINERVA: Of course, Alden can take you tomorrow morning, but for the night you can stay here.
DEWIN: Why, thank you.
ALDEN: Minnie, may I speak to you in the other room?
MINERVA: Of course.
(Alden and Minerva step into the kitchen.)
INT. TWENTY SIX WICING DRIVE - KITCHEN - NIGHT
ALDEN: We can not keep this man in our home. He is mentally insane.
MINERVA: Which means we must watch over him.
ALDEN: I am looking out for our safety.
MINERVA: And where would we take him?
ALDEN: I don’t know. He is as mad as the Doeth man!
MINERVA: Then that’s where we’ll take him.
ALDEN: Stick to nuts together?
MINERVA: The man has some common sense and he’s very compassionate.
ALDEN: Perfect.
EXT. LONDON - ALDRICH’S HOUSE - NIGHT
(Alden and Minerva Dewin sit in their carriage with Dewin outside of a small house that is slightly separated from the other homes on the street.)
DEWIN: So this is the home of a healer?
ALDEN: According to him. I will go to the door alone, I do not want to scare him.
(Alden gets out of the carriage and starts heading towards the home.)
MINERVA: So you really do believe that you are the son of Merlin.
DEWIN: I know who my father was. Why is this such a puzzle for you and your husband to wrap your heads around?
MINERVA: Why I’ve only heard stories of Camelot, myths of ancient pasts.
DEWIN: So Morgana not only shifted my place but also the time.
(Alden knocks on the home's door and is greeted by ALDRICH DOETH (Hundreds Of Years Old), an older looking man with crystals strapped around his neck.)
ALDRICH: Doctor Smith, have they finally sent someone to take me away to a nuthouse?
ALDEN: On the exact contrary, I’ve found a wounded man who claims to have been sent here by Morgana le Fay.
ALDRICH: That’s what the shift was!
ALDEN: What? You know what it doesn’t matter, as long as you’re willing to take this man.
ALDRICH: Yes, yes, bring him to me.
ALDEN: Minerva, send him up!
(Dewin comes up to the door.)
DEWIN: Hello.
ALDRICH: My goodness, the energy pulsates off of you.
DEWIN (TO ALDEN): This is the healer?
ALDEN: Yes. Now if you two don’t mind I think I will be headed back on my way.
ALDRICH: Are you sure, Doctor? It’s getting rather late, you and your wife are welcome to stay here.
ALDEN: Thank you, but there’s no need.
(Rain starts pouring out of the sky out of nowhere and thunder and lighting begin.)
ALDRICH: What about now, Doctor?
ALDEN: Minnie! We’re staying here tonight!
INT. ALDRICH’S HOUSE - LIVING SPACE - DAY
(A cluttered mess of books, candles, and potions. Aldrich, Alden, Minerva, and Dewin sit on Aldrich’s circular array of couches and chairs.)
ALDRICH: Before we dive in I suggest you go wash off, Dewin. The washroom is that small one to your left.
DEWIN: Thank you, Aldrich.
(Dewin gets up and goes into the washroom.)
ALDRICH: I know what you two think of me, the neighborhood’s resident crazy.
MINERVA: Not at all, Mister Doeth.
ALDRICH: Don’t lie, Minerva, our actions all come back to bite us.
ALDEN: So we think you're mental, what of it?
ALDRICH: There are dark forces amongst us, Mister and Misses Smith. I believe that Dewin is here to save us.
ALDEN: I appreciate you letting us stay here, but I think it’s time we leave.
ALDRICH: I will change this storm into an earthquake to keep you here if I must.
ALDEN: Come on, Minnie.
(Alden and Minerva get up and go to leave when the whole room begins to shake.)
ALDEN: What’s happening!?
ALDRICH: I warned you.
(Aldrich makes silencing symbols with his hands and the storm and the shaking stops.)
ALDRICH: Now will you listen to me?
(Alden and Minerva both sit back down.)
ALDEN: What are you?
AlDRICH: A magician, a clairvoyant, a healer, I am all of those things and more.
ALDEN: Why do you want us here so badly?
ALDRICH: I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you are the one who found Dewin, Doctor Smith. He needs a guide in this vast new world. Prophecy states that when the second coming of the Camelot war comes, the savior will have a protector.
ALDEN: And why me?
ALDRICH: There are questions that only we can answer ourselves.
(Dewin comes out of the washroom and sits back down.)
ALDRICH: Dewin, please tell me exactly how you arrived here.
DEWIN: Morgana le Fay used an ancient banishing spell on me.
ALDRICH: The fall of Camelot.
(Suddenly a wind sweeps through the room that blows out all the candles.)
MINERVA: Mister Doeth, are you doing this?
ALDRICH: No.
(A match is lit in the center of the room to reveal GWENWYN LIGHTWOOD (Centuries-Old), a green draconic humanoid woman in black robes and a hood.)
GWENWYN: Aldrich.
ALDRICH: Lady Lightwood.
GWENWYN: I’ve tracked a shift in magic to your home.
ALDRICH: It is this boy, he was banished here from Camelot.
(Gwenwyn goes up to Dewin and takes her hood off to reveal her scaly appearance. Alden gasps in disbelief. Gwenwyn runs her finger down Dewin’s cheek.)
GWENWYN (TO ALDRICH): Hm. I presume you wish to let him roam freely?
ALDRICH: With guidance, yes.
GWENWYN: If one thing goes wrong you will be punished.
ALDRICH: I know.
DEWIN (TO GWENWYN): Who are you?
GWENWYN: The last of the dragons. Just as Aldrich is the last descendent of the Family Merlin.
DEWIN (TO ALDRICH): You're a descendant of my father?
ALDRICH: Of his sister, I have many of her poems and spell tombs still intact here.
GWENWYN: Magic is rare these days, endangered, most people don’t even know it exists. So are we under agreement on the boy, Aldrich?
ALDRICH: Yes, but something is still troubling. If you and I both felt Dewin’s presence then-
GWENWYN: Benjamin did too.
DEWIN: Who is Benjamin?
ALDRICH: A descendant of Morgana who wishes to rule the earth under her ideals.
GWENWYN: A very very dangerous man who will certainly kill me if he finds me here.
(Gwenwyn’s match extinguishes and after a moment the candles all reignite but Gwenwyn is gone.)
ALDEN: By Jove!
ALDRICH: So do you all accept this challenge?
DEWIN: What challenge?
ALDRICH: Defeating Benjamin Fayle.
DEWIN: Of course!
ALDEN: Absolutely not.
ALDRICH: Are you that repulsed by compassion?
ALDEN: I can’t risk Minerva of I’s life on what could all be me hallucinating.
ALDRICH: You're risking the world for a craven excuse.
ALDEN: Goodbye.
(Alden gets up.)
ALDEN: Let’s leave, Minnie.
MINERVA: Thank you for your hospitality, Mister Doeth, and good luck.
(Alden leaves, followed by Minerva.)
EXT. LONDON - ALDRICH’S HOUSE - NIGHT
(Alden and Minerva ride through the street in their carriage.)
MINERVA: We were definitely drugged.
ALDEN: Absolutely.
EXT. LONDON - WICING DRIVE - NIGHT
(Alden and Minerva hop out of their carriage.)
ALDEN: I’m going to bring Sally back to the stables.
MINERVA: Goodnight, love you.
ALDEN: I love you most.
(Minerva goes up and enters Twenty Six Wicing Drive as Alden detaches Sally from the carriage and begins to guide her down the cobbled sidewalk with one of his hands on her reins.)
EXT. LONDON - FOREST - NIGHT
(Alden guides Sally through the forest to a set of stables. Sally suddenly rears up and neighs in terror.)
ALDEN: What is it Sally?
(Sally suddenly breaks off her reins and runs towards the stables. A figure in a dark purple hood and robe sweeps past Alden and their eyes glow purple. Alden screams.)
INT. TWENTY SIX WICING DRIVE - BEDROOM- DAY
(Alden and Minerva lay next to each other asleep in bed. Alden wakes up screaming which awakens Minerva.)
MINERVA: What’s the matter?
ALDEN: Just a night terror.
MINERVA: We did the right thing with Dewin, he’s with someone like him now.
ALDEN: Is that really a good thing? I think I’m going to go to the pub.
MINERVA: This early in the morning?
ALDEN: I need to clear my head after yesterday.
INT. GRIFFIN’S TAIL PUB - DAY
(A traditional Victorian pub. Dewin sits at the bar and is served by BRYNN CROWING (Early 30s), a charming bartender.)
BRYNN: What can I get you, Mate?
DEWIN: Just a pint of mead, please.
(Brynn goes and pours Dewin a pint of mead that she brings back to him and he begins drinking.)
BRYNN: I like your outfit, it’s very medieval.
DEWIN: It was made by the tailor of Sir Gawain.
(Brynn gives a light chuckle.)
BRYNN: What’s your name?
DEWIN: Dewin, and yours?
BRYNN: Brynn.
(Alden enters and sees Dewin. Alden leaves, but as he does he spots another person in a dark purple robe and hood with glowing purple eyes.)
DEWIN: You're very beautiful.
BRYNN: Why, thank you.
DEWIN: Would you like to go for a stroll?
BRYNN: My shift here doesn’t end till six.
DEWIN: Then I’ll see you then.
BRYNN: I guess you will.
(Dewin finishes his mead and drops two silver coins with dragons etched into them on the bar before swiftly leaving. Brynn picks up the coins and looks at them with confusion and yearning.)
EXT. LONDON - ALDRICH’S HOUSE - DAY
(Alden knocks on the door and Aldrich opens it.)
ALDRICH: I’ve been expecting you, come in.
(Alden follows Aldrich into the home.)
INT. - ALDRICH’S HOUSE - LIVING SPACE - DAY
(Alden and Aldrich sit across from each other.)
ALDRICH: Can I offer you some tea?
ALDEN: No thank you, I want to be in the clearest state of mind possible here.
ALDRICH: So what ignited your appearance here?
ALDEN: I’ve been seeing these people.
ALDRICH: Who are “these people”?
ALDEN: They wear these dark robes and their eyes glow purple.
ALDRICH: Faley’s society.
ALDEN: What?
ALDRICH: Benjamin Faley, the evil man I mentioned last night. Is this what caused you to believe?
ALDEN: What are you saying?
ALDRICH: That you believe in magic.
ALDEN: You're mad.
ALDRICH: Exactly, so the fact that you came to me shows that there’s at least one lingering thought in your mind that magic is reality and reality is magic.
(There’s a moment of silence between Alden and Aldrich.)
ALDRICH: Where have you been seeing the people you mentioned?
ALDEN: Everywhere that Dewin has been.
ALDRICH: Oh no, oh no, no, no.
ALDEN: What is it?
ALDRICH: Dewin is going out with a woman tonight.
ALDEN: Already? He’s only been here for a day.
ALDRICH: He's charming but also so foolish. You must watch them, in case Faley strikes or even worse this woman is working for him.
ALDEN: What could I even do to stop that?
ALDRICH: You are destined to protect Dewin, and at this point your logic for denying all of this is purely irrational. You're not hesitating because you think it’s not real, you're hesitating because you know it is. He is meeting her at six outside of the “Griffin’s Tail”.
ALDEN: I’m not going.
ALDRICH: We both know that you will.
ALDEN: Farewell, Mister Doeth.
ALDRICH: May the spirit of Merlin be with you, Doctor Smith.
(Alden gets up and leaves.)
EXT. LONDON - GRIFFIN’S TAIL PUB - NIGHT
(Dewin stands outside of the pub when Brynn comes out of the side door and walks towards him.)
BRYNN: I wasn’t expecting you to show.
DEWIN: Why wouldn’t I?
BRYNN: Most men flirt and then leave, half of them are married.
DEWIN: They are not true gentlemen then.
BRYNN: I suppose not.
DEWIN: Shall we begin walking?
BRYNN: Sure.
EXT. LONDON - STREETS - NIGHT
(Dewin and Brynn stroll down the streets of London. Alden follows them from a distance.)
DEWIN: This world is so beautiful.
BRYNN: Compared to all the other worlds you’ve been to?
DEWIN: Well Camelot obviously has a better scenic view.
BRYNN: Camelot?
DEWIN: My home land.
BRYNN: You're full of jokes.
DEWIN: I’m not joking.
BRYNN: What?
(Suddenly someone grabs Brynn into an alleyway and she screams. Dewin quickly turns to see no one beside him and runs after her, followed by Alden.)
EXT. LONDON - ROOFTOP - NIGHT
(The clear skies suddenly turn gray and ominous as Dewin arrives on the roof of a building to see three people with glowing purple eyes in the dark purple robes and hoods with one standing in the center holding Brynn with a dagger to her neck. Alden arrives on the rooftop.)
ALDEN: Bloody hell!
DEWIN: Let go of her!
(The three people take off their hoods and their eyes go to normal shades. The person holding Brynn is revealed to be DABRIA (30s), a menacing looking woman.)
DABRIA: Dim mynd i mewn dim dianc.
(A purple hazy force field appears around the edges of the rooftop.)
DABRIA: So you are the one sent to stop us.
DEWIN: What do you connote?
DABRIA: We are the Citadel of le Fay.
DEWIN: Oh no.
DABRIA: Who are you?
DEWIN: My name is Dewin, I am the son of Merlin, and I demand that you let Brynn go.
DABRIA: Why? Is she your protector?
BRYNN: Dewin, what are they talking about!?
(Dewin starts to move his hands around and a wispy blue energy begins to come out of them.)
DABRIA: Get him!
(The two other people with Dabria rush towards Dewin to attack him, but he uses the energy he created to push them around and drop them both to the ground. Dabria drops Brynn and her dagger and Alden rushes to pick up the dagger and succeeds.)
DABRIA: You are foolish, Dewin.
(Dabria pulls a gun out of her robes and shoots it at Dewin but he turns the bullet into a flower. Dabria shoots more but each time Dewin does the same thing until Dabria is out of bullets. Alden sneaks up behind Dabria and stabs her in the back. Dabria shrieks in pain and then disappears in a cloud of black smoke. Brynn gets up off of the ground.)
BRYNN: What the hell just happened?
DEWIN: Are you okay?
BRYNN: Not mentally. What in the world is going on here? How did you turn bullets into flowers!?
DEWIN: I told you I’m from Camelot.
(Alden drops the dagger.)
ALDEN: Did I just kill that woman?
DEWIN: Most likely not, you didn’t stab deep enough to hit any organs.
BRYNN: What do we do now?
DEWIN: Go home and call it a night.
BRYNN: I can’t forget about this.
DEWIN: I’m not asking you to.
ALDEN: If any of us speak of this people think we’re insane.
DEWIN: Then don’t speak of it.
BRYNN: Will I see you again, Dewin?
DEWIN: Did you enjoy tonight?
BRYNN: I was almost killed.
DEWIN: That doesn’t answer my question.
BRYNN: Meet at the pub on Friday after my shift.
INT. TWENTY SIX WICING DRIVE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
(Alden and Minerva lay next to each other.)
MINERVA: Do you think the Citadel will return?
ALDEN: Unequivocally.
MINERVA: What have we gotten into?
INT. BENJAMIN’S LAIR - NIGHT
(A cavern full of crystals and magical runes. BENJAMIN FALEY (30s or 40s), an attractive but uptight looking man, sits on his throne. Dabria enters and walks to face the throne, she bows and then gets back up.)
BENJAMIN: Did you find him?
DABRIA: Yes, Master Faley.
BENJAMIN: And did you find his protector?
DABRIA: Yes, but it’s not the girl.
BENJAMIN: Then who?
DABRIA: A Doctor Alden Smith.
BENJAMIN: Did you kill the doctor?
DABRIA: He deeply wounded me.
BENJAMIN: Then the battle goes on.
DABRIA: For Morgana.
BENJAMIN: For Morgana.
INT. ALDRICH’S HOUSE - LIVING SPACE - NIGHT
(Aldrich and Dewin sit across from each other drinking tea.)
ALDRICH: There are many things in this world, Dewin…
INT. GWENWYN’S CAVE - NIGHT
(Gwenwyn stands in the middle of a circle of candles. She stretches out her hands and forms magic blue charts and graphs with a picture of Dewin.)
ALDRICH (VOICE OVER): Forces we can’t explain…
EXT. LONDON - ALLEYWAY- NIGHT
(Brynn wears only her undergarments and takes a few coins from a man.)
ALDRICH (VOICE OVER): Secrets we hide…
INT. BENJAMIN’S LAIR - NIGHT
(Benjamin sits on his throne.)
ALDRICH (VOICE OVER): And villains we must defeat.
INT. ALDRICH’S HOUSE - LIVING SPACE - NIGHT
ALDRICH: You are the key to this all, Dewin, you are the son of Merlin.
2024.05.20 00:53 the-fool0 4th epoch events art and poems
 | The coronation of Solomon submitted by the-fool0 to LordofTheMysteries [link] [comments] "Have you heard the echo of this name, young ones? Solomon They praise. The crown you admire, the authority you fear, the anticipation tinged with submission. When the anthem heralds the protagonist, and the stars return to their abode, destiny shapes the staircase. The masses shout His name. 'Solomon, King of kings, from henceforth, you alone shall be the true God. You command the people of the Northern Land, you are the supreme emperor. Henceforth, the empire shall be a realm of loyalty to you. Regardless of city or race, all are your subjects.' The death of the Black Emperor "Heroes are the scars left behind by every shooting star in the night sky, In the turmoil of history's waves, Conspiracy and grandeur sit side by side, The empire once shining in the vast sky, now sinking into the darkness. In the shadow of reverence, betrayal weaves its silent thread, whether in life or death, When it finally arrives, Crowns and thrones crumble in succession, Though surrounded by blades, his composure remains unchanged. 'My spirit undying shall persist, so long as my empire's heart beat echoes, so too will my life.' The establishment of the Tudor-Trunsoest Empire "I've told you before, young one, There are no eternal emperors in this world, Just like the golden branches of fate, forever dangling, Tempting those who covet it with betrayal. As a new empire is about to be born, The people rejoice, and the gods approve. They roar like they once did, At the coronation of the Black Emperor, when they offered their submission. Now, that submission is the prized possession of the new rulers." The resurrection of Solomon "Why the astonishment, lambs? the sons of wisdom dwell here, Heeding the call of your true God, be proud lambs I shall restore your dignity, My triumph shall be yours as well." "Why the disbelief, oh betrayers? The sons of folly lurk here, Attempting to strip order from the shadows, to divide unity from the empire. Turning thorns into highways, and injustice into accolades; My triumph shall be the blade at your necks, Playing the requiem before your execution." I found these art and poems on danbooru and now I'm itching for a 4th epoch spin off or something, literally anything would do, this is the type of thing that would become game of thrones level type shit if done right. Just imagine the grandiose and epicness of these events based on the poems alone. Source: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts?tags=lunara&z=1 |
2024.05.20 00:37 penbrok Dear,
I’ve written to you a million times. In letters, poems, prose, and art. I’ve built temples and stars, worlds and universes with words that you’ll never hear, read, or believe.
I tried so hard to not love you, and yet I did. I moved past you, but your memory just walked by me, step by step. And I remember a kind woman. I remember being loved by her. I remember feeling like starlight with her. But she isn’t you. No. You’re something else now. Someone else now. You wake with other people, you don’t think about the past and possibilities of the future.
You don’t hurt like I do, and I don’t think you ever will. I wouldn’t want you to. You would think I would’ve learned by now. To not… hope for more. For your return. For who you were. But I think I’ve always known who you are. I had my turn. My chance. My love. My time. I just wish it wasn’t so.
Standing on deck, I wait for a woman who I lost long ago, and just because you look like her, speak like her, and smile like her, doesn’t mean you are. Now I look for a woman who will love me like she did. I think the distinction is important.
Whoever she will be, I will love her more than I have loved before because she can see who I am, and all this hurt that I’ve been through, and love that about me. Love how I wear it, how I smile through it, and how I love past it.
Je t’aime Elle. Bon voyage.
Time to find port.
Farewell,
Captain Keeper
submitted by penbrok to UnsentLetters [link] [comments]
I tried so hard to not love you, and yet I did. I moved past you, but your memory just walked by me, step by step. And I remember a kind woman. I remember being loved by her. I remember feeling like starlight with her. But she isn’t you. No. You’re something else now. Someone else now. You wake with other people, you don’t think about the past and possibilities of the future.
You don’t hurt like I do, and I don’t think you ever will. I wouldn’t want you to. You would think I would’ve learned by now. To not… hope for more. For your return. For who you were. But I think I’ve always known who you are. I had my turn. My chance. My love. My time. I just wish it wasn’t so.
Standing on deck, I wait for a woman who I lost long ago, and just because you look like her, speak like her, and smile like her, doesn’t mean you are. Now I look for a woman who will love me like she did. I think the distinction is important.
Whoever she will be, I will love her more than I have loved before because she can see who I am, and all this hurt that I’ve been through, and love that about me. Love how I wear it, how I smile through it, and how I love past it.
Je t’aime Elle. Bon voyage.
Time to find port.
Farewell,
Captain Keeper
2024.05.19 23:04 kerghan41 Yesterday I posted about my first attempt at 50 miles. Well today, I did it! (Long Post)
I started this morning at around 9:30 and finished in four hours and forty minutes. I'm happy I did it but the speed isn't where I wanted it to be. 10.7 MPH average and on the way back I had to stop A LOT more. I'm not sure if I should have fueled myself more or what but I started to get sick towards the end. I'd take a break, have some watesugar snack and then continue for a few more miles. Rinse and repeat.
My breakfast before the ride was a cup of brown rice, 4 eggs, salsa, and coffee. While on the trail I had a gallon of Gatorade/water mix, a bag full of raisins, some jelly beans, a peanut butter granola bar, and a protein/carb power bar. On the way back, because I was feeling a bit off, I got a bag of pretzels for salt.
The trail itself was awesome. I started in Ottawa, KS on the 'Prairie Spirit Trail State Park.' My goal was to make it to the 4th city which was exactly 25 miles. The trail was mostly woods and a few times it was heavy forest with large rivers/creeks to see. It was a rather hot day and there were some stretches of just wide open prairie and bright sun.
The 4th city felt like it was NEVER going to show up. Before I left I looked at a map and knew that there was a big lake at the start of this 4th city. On the ride I kept looking for the lake hoping it'd be over the hill. I was about to turn back... and then there it was! Quite a feeling.
One of my favorite highlights was about 10 miles in I saw a Mulberry tree and they are in season. I grabbed about 4 handfuls of Mulberries for some instant energy. I also saw a ton of wildlife and had two close calls which is making me hesitate doing that trail again.
The first close call is I'm pretty sure I saw an adolescent mountain lion. It was walking down the trail quite a ways ahead of me. At first I thought it was a large dog like a Labrador or something. As I got closer I knew it was a cat... but it wasn't a Bobcat. I've seen those before. I'd say this thing was about 50-60 pounds. While I don't think it posed a threat I had no idea if there were others nearby. I googled later and found that they hang out by river beds and this was right by one of those. Luckily, as I got close enough it slowly wandered back into the brush and I didn't see it again. It definitely didn't seem afraid of me.
The second close call was on the trip back. I was cruising going about 18-20 mph. I went over a hill and had to swerve as there was a decent sized snake lying right in the middle of the trail. Most likely baking in the sun. It was so fast that I was within a few inches of it and if it wanted to I would have been bit. Rattlesnakes and Copperheads are native here. Definitely had me freaking out for a bit, but I guess worse case... I had my phone on me.
How do you guys handle wildlife like this? I normally cycle alone as I prefer the quiet and to set my own pace. Should I rethink this?
The other wildlife I saw were all pretty cool. Lots of box turtles, snappers, ton of rabbits, squirrels, deer, and a couple close calls with hawks swooping down right in front of me.
Some pictures I took:
submitted by kerghan41 to cycling [link] [comments]
My breakfast before the ride was a cup of brown rice, 4 eggs, salsa, and coffee. While on the trail I had a gallon of Gatorade/water mix, a bag full of raisins, some jelly beans, a peanut butter granola bar, and a protein/carb power bar. On the way back, because I was feeling a bit off, I got a bag of pretzels for salt.
The trail itself was awesome. I started in Ottawa, KS on the 'Prairie Spirit Trail State Park.' My goal was to make it to the 4th city which was exactly 25 miles. The trail was mostly woods and a few times it was heavy forest with large rivers/creeks to see. It was a rather hot day and there were some stretches of just wide open prairie and bright sun.
The 4th city felt like it was NEVER going to show up. Before I left I looked at a map and knew that there was a big lake at the start of this 4th city. On the ride I kept looking for the lake hoping it'd be over the hill. I was about to turn back... and then there it was! Quite a feeling.
One of my favorite highlights was about 10 miles in I saw a Mulberry tree and they are in season. I grabbed about 4 handfuls of Mulberries for some instant energy. I also saw a ton of wildlife and had two close calls which is making me hesitate doing that trail again.
The first close call is I'm pretty sure I saw an adolescent mountain lion. It was walking down the trail quite a ways ahead of me. At first I thought it was a large dog like a Labrador or something. As I got closer I knew it was a cat... but it wasn't a Bobcat. I've seen those before. I'd say this thing was about 50-60 pounds. While I don't think it posed a threat I had no idea if there were others nearby. I googled later and found that they hang out by river beds and this was right by one of those. Luckily, as I got close enough it slowly wandered back into the brush and I didn't see it again. It definitely didn't seem afraid of me.
The second close call was on the trip back. I was cruising going about 18-20 mph. I went over a hill and had to swerve as there was a decent sized snake lying right in the middle of the trail. Most likely baking in the sun. It was so fast that I was within a few inches of it and if it wanted to I would have been bit. Rattlesnakes and Copperheads are native here. Definitely had me freaking out for a bit, but I guess worse case... I had my phone on me.
How do you guys handle wildlife like this? I normally cycle alone as I prefer the quiet and to set my own pace. Should I rethink this?
The other wildlife I saw were all pretty cool. Lots of box turtles, snappers, ton of rabbits, squirrels, deer, and a couple close calls with hawks swooping down right in front of me.
Some pictures I took:
- https://i.imgur.com/lyuzlCd.jpg
- https://i.imgur.com/LMdZRGr.jpg
- https://i.imgur.com/m6rOQgc.jpg
- https://i.imgur.com/0wD7l0T.jpeg - One of the very few other riders I saw. The nearly 5 hours I was there I saw about 6 people.
- https://i.imgur.com/su9jvFU.jpeg
2024.05.19 22:39 Soap4You Inspired by Connor's confessions video/stream, I'd like to share my favorite passages
As a fellow balding bretherin, at hard times I find consolation in passages 23-24 from the Book of two Kings.
"Elisha left Jericho and went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, a group of boys from the town began mocking and making fun of him. “Go away, baldy!” they chanted. “Go away, baldy!” Elisha turned around and looked at them, and he cursed them in the name of the Lord. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of them." - 2 Kings 2:23-24
submitted by Soap4You to CDawgVA [link] [comments]
"Elisha left Jericho and went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, a group of boys from the town began mocking and making fun of him. “Go away, baldy!” they chanted. “Go away, baldy!” Elisha turned around and looked at them, and he cursed them in the name of the Lord. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of them." - 2 Kings 2:23-24
2024.05.19 22:22 Kawizys With V3 coming upon us, I bring us a poem to let our trailblazing passion will into existence a new era of light!
In the ancient tongue of ages past, we yearn to shape the tapestry of destiny, to weave the threads of time into a masterpiece anew. With the arcane wisdom of quantum mechanics as one's guide, we seek to illuminate the darkness that veils the flight of fireflies.
Through the veils of uncertainty, we glimpse the possibilities, where shimmering particles dance in the quantum realm, awaiting thy beckoning call. With each flicker of light, we harness the quantum entanglement that binds us all, weaving intricate patterns of luminescence that transcend the bounds of mere animation.
With deft hands and visionary spirit, we mold the very essence of fate itself, infusing each firefly with a brilliance unmatched. Through the quantum dance, we unlock the secrets of motion and form, crafting a symphony of movement that enraptures the soul.
Thus, we stand as a harbinger of change, a guardian of the flame that guides us through the darkness. With each collective of thy will, we shall shape the course of the future, forging a path illuminated by the gentle glow of firefly animations, radiating a sky anew.
i spent many sleep depraved hours writing this i hope it isn't god awful The explanation behind the poem is that one wishes for firefly to become what everyone ideally wants to her to be, i understand that lots of people were disappointed in how everything turned out, including me (some were happy ofc and thats great!) . For me the primary desire would be adding animation changes and for others it may be kit! as to why quantum mechaics is involed in this, starrail has a philosophy of predetermined destiny and deterministic fate, i wanted to lean into the world of deterministic fate!
submitted by Kawizys to FireflyMains [link] [comments]
Through the veils of uncertainty, we glimpse the possibilities, where shimmering particles dance in the quantum realm, awaiting thy beckoning call. With each flicker of light, we harness the quantum entanglement that binds us all, weaving intricate patterns of luminescence that transcend the bounds of mere animation.
With deft hands and visionary spirit, we mold the very essence of fate itself, infusing each firefly with a brilliance unmatched. Through the quantum dance, we unlock the secrets of motion and form, crafting a symphony of movement that enraptures the soul.
Thus, we stand as a harbinger of change, a guardian of the flame that guides us through the darkness. With each collective of thy will, we shall shape the course of the future, forging a path illuminated by the gentle glow of firefly animations, radiating a sky anew.
i spent many sleep depraved hours writing this i hope it isn't god awful The explanation behind the poem is that one wishes for firefly to become what everyone ideally wants to her to be, i understand that lots of people were disappointed in how everything turned out, including me (some were happy ofc and thats great!) . For me the primary desire would be adding animation changes and for others it may be kit! as to why quantum mechaics is involed in this, starrail has a philosophy of predetermined destiny and deterministic fate, i wanted to lean into the world of deterministic fate!
2024.05.19 21:54 KlemensvnMetternich Five Kinds of Loneliness // Part 4
-and obviously it was stupid to think that any of my old friends would still be there. Could I even call them that? I haven’t been back here in maybe ten years and my ‘friends’ were the staff at a bar I worked at for two months, transient work by its very nature. Especially in Rome. There’s a street preacher and I think he’s saying “KINGS, BOOK ONE! CHAPTER 19!” and maybe he is because he has 1 Kings 19 (11-13) written on a sign next to him.
I remember Malfi… Marfi? Was a student anyway. Studying history at masters level. I can clearly see the seal of her university in my head clearly but I can't remember the university. I think about maybe pulling out my phone and googling it but it’ll take too long and I don’t want to waste the battery or not be looking at my surroundings for too long.
Hey- hey friend how are you? What are you doing here?
Oh god. If I keep my head down maybe he won’t bother me but suddenly there’s a wall of flesh draped in a cheap blue t-shirt semi-blocking my path.
I’m busy, sorry. I push past him and he yells out.
HEY! You got a problem with black people?
Loud enough for others to turn around.
What the hell is his problem? The insolence of it! The actual insolence! I smiled as I said I’m busy for fucks’ sake. I have a disgust response from the way he speaks as it plays back in my head. You ghat a problehm with blaq people? Flat vowels from the Global South. I could smell whatever ersatz cologne he’d doused himself in. Big, dumb bicycle chain wrapped around his neck. I could barely make out this heckler’s face, he was so overweight he was drowned in fat, and he threw his arms up in the air so his bony elbows came out at weird, jutting angles.
My mood is completely ruined so I turned right, catching the sun, cutting off a man walking a Chow dog who I presume follows after me.
My sunglasses are in my pocket and for whatever reason I lose the will to actually pull them out so I’m walking blind into glare. Was everyone still looking at me? The sun is beating down and on top of that the wind is blowing directly into my face. I can’t see anything and I feel prickly heat around my flanks. Maybe a tweed jacket was the wrong choice, but I’m not going to take it off and drape it over my shoulder right now. I do not want to be perceived.
I start thinking about the street venders from ten years ago, how friendly they all were. That’s not a thing anymore, I guess. I force all that from my mind and as I’m walking I involuntarily start thinking back to when I was little.
I was six, maybe seven, and my mother was in the hospital so I was being looked after by my father. It took him maybe three days to stop bothering to make sure I had a bath or brushed my teeth. Maybe a week before he stopped doing laundry. About three weeks in he was forced to start taking me to school again; somebody had mentioned something to my grandmother who came round to shout at him. He reckoned I could learn everything I needed from watching television.
The other kids were not a fan of my new look, and the bullying was horrible. Already a lonely child, I was further isolated from my peers by my appearance and odour. I had an initial grace period, I’m sure Miss. Euston had prepped everyone that my mother was sick and everyone was to be very nice to me.
The great mass of my appearance, greasy and smelly, eventually pulled through the gravity of Miss. Euston’s authority, and finally I slipped through her graces and into the bottomless pit of cruelty only children are capable of.
One night when the rest of the class was dismissed she kept me back to talk to me.
“How are you, John?”
Fine.
“I hear your mummy will be back soon? Isn’t that great?”
Yes.
“Maybe you should tell your dad to give you a bath before she gets home, yes?”
Yes.
“Is your dad coming to pick you up today?”
I don’t know.
She smiled at me put her hand to my face. It was warm and soft and I could feel the sea-salt sweat from her palms. It was comforting. Maybe that’s why I’m a cuddler now. She gave me a chocolate bar from her treat tin and let me go. My dad did actually pick me up that day. He asked me where I got the chocolate bar from and I said Miss. Euston gave it to me. I never ate it, at some point it must have been thrown away.
I realized Miss. Euston was, probably, barely a few years older than I was now. I wonder what she was up to. At some point the buildings covered the sun and I checked my watch. Two more hours to go.
I see a free table on a raised mount and decide to sit there. I look up at the statues looking down at me and a waiter comes over and says I have to order if I want to stay there. This annoys me so I bark at him that I need a menu if I want to order anything. He leaves and the clouds open again, probably by the wind, and it beats down on me again. Feeling more grounded I take off my jacket and drape it over my chair and take the cigarettes from the inside pocket. I looked at my phone and re-read the invitation email.
To – me, please be here at whenever o’clock to talk to our international undergrads on international project management.
Regards, some professor I didn’t like as an undergrad.
It was certainly an honor to be asked, but no doubt was being used to drum up engagement for some useless course they were peddling. How exactly does International Relations parse into International Project Management? You learn everything you need to know doing the damn job. I had emailed myself my famous slide deck, the one that was thrown around in secret by senior bureaucrats who were sick of being bureaucrats and wanted to actually do something. The one that Managers said could never be released, but had obviously plagiarized in snippets when they thought appearing to be daring would be beneficial to their careers.
A brunette waitress comes over with the menu, she looks young. Maybe 18. Over a decade younger than me.
If you don’t mind getting up, she said in a startling American, there’s a buffet as well.
I say thank you and look at her. Was she American? American-Italian? She looked British. Maybe Danish. I didn’t want to ask. She was pale, apart from her lips and cheeks which were the color of a rose.
Thank you, I say. Do I order drinks from you?
Of course, she said and took out a notepad and pen. The other wait staff used an iPad. I wondered where hers was and asked for a double espresso and a glass of orange juice.
Is that all?
Wait, how tall is the orange?
What?
I smile and her and mime a glass growing from very small to very tall. How tall is the glass? Is it a lot of orange juice?
She smiles and laughs and it’s very cute, I think she lost her composure because the laugh doesn’t match her voice.
I run my hand through my hair because I need something for my hands to do, and she says yeah. It’s tall. Pretty big. Are you going far after this?
I dunno. There’s some people trying to kill me. I smile again, obviously a joke.
She smiles back. You should have the buffet and I’ll bring you your drinks. I’ll leave the jar of orange juice but don’t tell anyone, OK?
OK, I say. Grazie.
Prego, she says and walks off.
I check how far the walk is and it’s maybe 40 minutes, too far in this weather. Will it rain? Will I literally burn to a crisp? I wish I had brought my laptop so I could have the slide deck up. I could ask the waitress what she thought.
She comes back with my coffee and a cold glass of orange juice, and a jug of water.
Sorry, she says, my manager told me to only pour the juice.
That’s fine, I think I’m only 40 minutes away. Like three miles.
You won’t be able to walk three miles in forty minutes, she says. You should eat quickly, then get up and go.
I dunno, I say, drawing out my response. I’m quite tall.
She laughs again and says she’ll bring my cheque now.
I get up and make a plate of pastry, the meat looks like it had been left out so I avoided it. I grabbed some things I don’t know the name of, and a slice of bread that was being warmed on a terracotta platter over some coals.
She walks away and when she comes back I want to ask for her number, but there’s a huge delivery truck slowly rolling through. My cup is shaking in its’ saucer and if it wasn’t already mostly drunk it’d run over. I try to make conversation but I don’t want to shout at her so just give her 30 euro and say keep the tip. She shouts back thanks. I get up and start walking.
The sun won out against the rain and it started to pound me again. The air was dry. I was walking fast and making good time, but I did not want to end up sweaty when I got there so I took off my jacket and carried it under my arm. I checked my phone again and I had a missed call and a voice mail. I couldn’t see the name in the glare.
I couldn’t stop to put earphones in, so I put my phone away.
I managed to make it to the campus with five minutes to spare. I hullo’d with the professors and asked for a glass of water. I drank it in one then went to the bathroom to piss, and check my hair. I was sweating but my jacket would cover it. My hair looked great. I clenched my jaw and looked at my face. Intense. Satisfied, I blew my nose and in my head went over the topics I’d cover. If I got lost I’d ask the students questions.
For some reason I thought back to Miss. Euston, looking after the poor scapegrace that was me. I remember once she told me God was in the wind.
I was waiting in the wings, hidden on a pre-stage before the main stage. Before I put my phone on silent, I thought I’d listen to the voice mail quickly. I briefly thought it "pre-stage" was even a word. I didn’t recognize the number. I pressed play and raised it to my ear.
There was a pause and then, cutting through the roar of the wind once present but no longer, came a voice.
“Hi, John, I hope you’re well and I’m just calli-“
The voicemail stopped. Someday, I hope, Apple will figure out how to actually let me hear my voicemail without constantly having to un-pause it. I hit play and put my phone back to my ear but I knew who it is before she said her name. “I’m just calling to say hey. It’s me, Joanne.”
It was a whisper being carried over time and continents. A whisper from a girl that might as well be dead. Why me, Joanne. Why me.
I covered my face with my hands. I realized I was doing it in shame and suddenly Miss. Euston’s voice came back to me again. “God is in the wind.”
I pulled the skin on my face down, pressed hard, and walked out onto the next stage, tucking my phone away in my-
submitted by KlemensvnMetternich to RSwritingclub [link] [comments]
I remember Malfi… Marfi? Was a student anyway. Studying history at masters level. I can clearly see the seal of her university in my head clearly but I can't remember the university. I think about maybe pulling out my phone and googling it but it’ll take too long and I don’t want to waste the battery or not be looking at my surroundings for too long.
Hey- hey friend how are you? What are you doing here?
Oh god. If I keep my head down maybe he won’t bother me but suddenly there’s a wall of flesh draped in a cheap blue t-shirt semi-blocking my path.
I’m busy, sorry. I push past him and he yells out.
HEY! You got a problem with black people?
Loud enough for others to turn around.
What the hell is his problem? The insolence of it! The actual insolence! I smiled as I said I’m busy for fucks’ sake. I have a disgust response from the way he speaks as it plays back in my head. You ghat a problehm with blaq people? Flat vowels from the Global South. I could smell whatever ersatz cologne he’d doused himself in. Big, dumb bicycle chain wrapped around his neck. I could barely make out this heckler’s face, he was so overweight he was drowned in fat, and he threw his arms up in the air so his bony elbows came out at weird, jutting angles.
My mood is completely ruined so I turned right, catching the sun, cutting off a man walking a Chow dog who I presume follows after me.
My sunglasses are in my pocket and for whatever reason I lose the will to actually pull them out so I’m walking blind into glare. Was everyone still looking at me? The sun is beating down and on top of that the wind is blowing directly into my face. I can’t see anything and I feel prickly heat around my flanks. Maybe a tweed jacket was the wrong choice, but I’m not going to take it off and drape it over my shoulder right now. I do not want to be perceived.
I start thinking about the street venders from ten years ago, how friendly they all were. That’s not a thing anymore, I guess. I force all that from my mind and as I’m walking I involuntarily start thinking back to when I was little.
I was six, maybe seven, and my mother was in the hospital so I was being looked after by my father. It took him maybe three days to stop bothering to make sure I had a bath or brushed my teeth. Maybe a week before he stopped doing laundry. About three weeks in he was forced to start taking me to school again; somebody had mentioned something to my grandmother who came round to shout at him. He reckoned I could learn everything I needed from watching television.
The other kids were not a fan of my new look, and the bullying was horrible. Already a lonely child, I was further isolated from my peers by my appearance and odour. I had an initial grace period, I’m sure Miss. Euston had prepped everyone that my mother was sick and everyone was to be very nice to me.
The great mass of my appearance, greasy and smelly, eventually pulled through the gravity of Miss. Euston’s authority, and finally I slipped through her graces and into the bottomless pit of cruelty only children are capable of.
One night when the rest of the class was dismissed she kept me back to talk to me.
“How are you, John?”
Fine.
“I hear your mummy will be back soon? Isn’t that great?”
Yes.
“Maybe you should tell your dad to give you a bath before she gets home, yes?”
Yes.
“Is your dad coming to pick you up today?”
I don’t know.
She smiled at me put her hand to my face. It was warm and soft and I could feel the sea-salt sweat from her palms. It was comforting. Maybe that’s why I’m a cuddler now. She gave me a chocolate bar from her treat tin and let me go. My dad did actually pick me up that day. He asked me where I got the chocolate bar from and I said Miss. Euston gave it to me. I never ate it, at some point it must have been thrown away.
I realized Miss. Euston was, probably, barely a few years older than I was now. I wonder what she was up to. At some point the buildings covered the sun and I checked my watch. Two more hours to go.
I see a free table on a raised mount and decide to sit there. I look up at the statues looking down at me and a waiter comes over and says I have to order if I want to stay there. This annoys me so I bark at him that I need a menu if I want to order anything. He leaves and the clouds open again, probably by the wind, and it beats down on me again. Feeling more grounded I take off my jacket and drape it over my chair and take the cigarettes from the inside pocket. I looked at my phone and re-read the invitation email.
To – me, please be here at whenever o’clock to talk to our international undergrads on international project management.
Regards, some professor I didn’t like as an undergrad.
It was certainly an honor to be asked, but no doubt was being used to drum up engagement for some useless course they were peddling. How exactly does International Relations parse into International Project Management? You learn everything you need to know doing the damn job. I had emailed myself my famous slide deck, the one that was thrown around in secret by senior bureaucrats who were sick of being bureaucrats and wanted to actually do something. The one that Managers said could never be released, but had obviously plagiarized in snippets when they thought appearing to be daring would be beneficial to their careers.
A brunette waitress comes over with the menu, she looks young. Maybe 18. Over a decade younger than me.
If you don’t mind getting up, she said in a startling American, there’s a buffet as well.
I say thank you and look at her. Was she American? American-Italian? She looked British. Maybe Danish. I didn’t want to ask. She was pale, apart from her lips and cheeks which were the color of a rose.
Thank you, I say. Do I order drinks from you?
Of course, she said and took out a notepad and pen. The other wait staff used an iPad. I wondered where hers was and asked for a double espresso and a glass of orange juice.
Is that all?
Wait, how tall is the orange?
What?
I smile and her and mime a glass growing from very small to very tall. How tall is the glass? Is it a lot of orange juice?
She smiles and laughs and it’s very cute, I think she lost her composure because the laugh doesn’t match her voice.
I run my hand through my hair because I need something for my hands to do, and she says yeah. It’s tall. Pretty big. Are you going far after this?
I dunno. There’s some people trying to kill me. I smile again, obviously a joke.
She smiles back. You should have the buffet and I’ll bring you your drinks. I’ll leave the jar of orange juice but don’t tell anyone, OK?
OK, I say. Grazie.
Prego, she says and walks off.
I check how far the walk is and it’s maybe 40 minutes, too far in this weather. Will it rain? Will I literally burn to a crisp? I wish I had brought my laptop so I could have the slide deck up. I could ask the waitress what she thought.
She comes back with my coffee and a cold glass of orange juice, and a jug of water.
Sorry, she says, my manager told me to only pour the juice.
That’s fine, I think I’m only 40 minutes away. Like three miles.
You won’t be able to walk three miles in forty minutes, she says. You should eat quickly, then get up and go.
I dunno, I say, drawing out my response. I’m quite tall.
She laughs again and says she’ll bring my cheque now.
I get up and make a plate of pastry, the meat looks like it had been left out so I avoided it. I grabbed some things I don’t know the name of, and a slice of bread that was being warmed on a terracotta platter over some coals.
She walks away and when she comes back I want to ask for her number, but there’s a huge delivery truck slowly rolling through. My cup is shaking in its’ saucer and if it wasn’t already mostly drunk it’d run over. I try to make conversation but I don’t want to shout at her so just give her 30 euro and say keep the tip. She shouts back thanks. I get up and start walking.
The sun won out against the rain and it started to pound me again. The air was dry. I was walking fast and making good time, but I did not want to end up sweaty when I got there so I took off my jacket and carried it under my arm. I checked my phone again and I had a missed call and a voice mail. I couldn’t see the name in the glare.
I couldn’t stop to put earphones in, so I put my phone away.
I managed to make it to the campus with five minutes to spare. I hullo’d with the professors and asked for a glass of water. I drank it in one then went to the bathroom to piss, and check my hair. I was sweating but my jacket would cover it. My hair looked great. I clenched my jaw and looked at my face. Intense. Satisfied, I blew my nose and in my head went over the topics I’d cover. If I got lost I’d ask the students questions.
For some reason I thought back to Miss. Euston, looking after the poor scapegrace that was me. I remember once she told me God was in the wind.
I was waiting in the wings, hidden on a pre-stage before the main stage. Before I put my phone on silent, I thought I’d listen to the voice mail quickly. I briefly thought it "pre-stage" was even a word. I didn’t recognize the number. I pressed play and raised it to my ear.
There was a pause and then, cutting through the roar of the wind once present but no longer, came a voice.
“Hi, John, I hope you’re well and I’m just calli-“
The voicemail stopped. Someday, I hope, Apple will figure out how to actually let me hear my voicemail without constantly having to un-pause it. I hit play and put my phone back to my ear but I knew who it is before she said her name. “I’m just calling to say hey. It’s me, Joanne.”
It was a whisper being carried over time and continents. A whisper from a girl that might as well be dead. Why me, Joanne. Why me.
I covered my face with my hands. I realized I was doing it in shame and suddenly Miss. Euston’s voice came back to me again. “God is in the wind.”
I pulled the skin on my face down, pressed hard, and walked out onto the next stage, tucking my phone away in my-
2024.05.19 21:41 clydelogan Through the Looking Glass: Taylor and Mirrors
 | Let me just start out by saying I haven’t read Through the Looking Glass by Louis Carroll in about 10 years and I’ve only read it 3 times (HS AP English Lit, a Lit class in college, and after 1989). I’m by no means as versed in Louis Carroll or Alice’s Adventures as others in this sub. submitted by clydelogan to GaylorSwift [link] [comments] I’ve talked about numerology 8 [here](https://www.reddit.com/GaylorSwift/s/PQLFND29FR) and how it connects to “Karma”. It’s also been 8 years since when we would have gotten the lost “Karma” album. To briefly recap my other post, Taylor had mentioned before she’s into numerology. In numerology, the number 8 is associated with karma because 8 is ruled by Saturn (love you to the moon and to Saturn) who is the Lord of Karma. Now let’s get into Through the Looking Glass. Taylor Nation has been hinting at 2016 quite a bit lately. Most notably drawing attention to Taylor in this outfit at Stockholm N2 which is the reversed version of her 2016 Grammy’s outfit. In TTLG, Alice enters through the looking glass and finds a mirror world where everything is reversed. 2016 Grammys ; Eras Tour Stockholm May 18, 2024 Taking it back to 2023, we see the Lover House from the Lover music video as a background visual when she performs Lover. I will side track here to say Taylor released the Lover music video on August 22, 2019 (happy birthday to me ). The same day the music video released, she announced she is re-recording the first 6 albums because of the Masters Heist. The house we see during the Eras Tour visual is slightly different than the music video, notably, we see Taylor leaving the Lover House in her yellow closeting dress through a mirror in the Lover room. Eras Tour Lover House Visual with Taylor going through the Mirror in the Lover room while wearing a yellow dress I personally think this visual has many layers to it which I’m just going to lay out here:
TTLG Chessboard by me In Through the Looking Glass, the book starts out with Alice playing with a white kitten and a black kitten. She notices a mirror and when she touches the mirror, she realizes she can go through it, which takes her into the mirror world version of her house where everything is reversed. Two recent examples of Taylor using mirror imagery. In Anti Hero where she’s looking at the Evil!TayloTaylor Swift ™️ in the mirror; On the cover of the WAOLOM Phone Memo touching the looking glass/mirror She discovers a book of poetry called the Jabberwocky that is written in reverse that you need to hold up to a mirror to be able to read it. (Hello, Tortured Poets Department. There have been posts in the sub on listening to TTPD in reverse as well as the songs from TTPD mirroring other songs). Alice leaves behind her home and enters a garden where she meets the Red Queen who tells her she can become a queen if she can make it across the countryside to the 8th rank/row that is laid out like a chessboard. So this is where I’ve started out with the image above. I believe we are resetting the chessboard to 2016. The Red Queen places Alice on the second row as a White Queen pawn, thus combining Alice’s need to cover two of the rows (or for Taylor, two years combining Reputation and Karma/Lost Album into one double album). Alice starts off this quest/journey by getting on a train that skips over the third row (2018) and goes right into the fourth row which is a forest where she meets a Looking Glass Gnat that teaches her about Looking Glass insects (2019, Lover, butterfly mural, butterfly pajamas in Lover MV). She goes through the “woods where things have no names” and forgets her own name and identity. She’s helped by a fawn who also forgets its identity, but when they get to the other side it remembers and leaves her (Masters Heist, *I jump from the train, I ride off alone*, the muse that she breaks up with during the Lover era (?) ) Taylor Alice comes across Tweetle Dee (Scott Brushetta) and Tweetle Dumb (Pooper Scooter) who try to provoke her (their responses to her announcement of re-recording her albums that it wasn’t going to work, etc) and point her direction to the sleeping Red King and telling her she’s a figment of his imagination (my interpretation is pointing at her conservative/homophobic fans and saying they’ll never support an out and queer Taylor or purchase her re-records). But they Tweedles are scared off by a large crow (Taylor’s aesthetic turning black and the support of other people in the industry and her fans to re-record her music). Alice meets with the White Queen as she gets ready to move into the 5th rank, but as they cross the brook, the Queen is turned into a sheep and Alice has to paddle the boat across on her own (2020, Covid happens, Loverfest is cancelled, Taylor creates Folklore) and struggles with it (Cardigan MV) https://preview.redd.it/6cvz3p4fqf1d1.jpg?width=4096&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=28cf5e4b93c77a2d2f4f5c4512a501bd5748b7b7 Alice then crosses into the 6th rank/row by crossing another brook (end of 2020-2021, Evermore, Willow MV) https://i.redd.it/u70wd6amqf1d1.gif Where she meets Humpty Dumpty who gives his own interpretation of Jabberwocky before he falls and all the (White) kings horses & all the (White) kings men try to put him together again. Taylor releases Fearless TV (White Horse) and Red TV in 2021. Which leads to the 7th Rank/Row where Alice crosses a brook into a forest (Lavender Haze MV) and is almost captured by a Red Knight but is saved by the White Knight (1950s shit). https://preview.redd.it/emjf9evqqf1d1.jpg?width=1198&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=da2bbc9c45a4e289cad0502d778ce01b7e5501ca The Knight sings her a poem called Ways and Means to the tune of My Heart and Lute (Thomas Moore). Before she leaves him to cross the brook into the 8th rank/row https://preview.redd.it/c4qqc0vuqf1d1.jpg?width=1198&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=fe67ed0386af1046510638cf34cec9b5c30bbba8 Where she automatically becomes a Queen (2023, Eras Tour, biggest year of her career, many media outlets calling her the 2023 Queen of Pop music and saying it was the year of Taylor) The story ends with the Red Queen and White Queen showing up and inviting themselves to a party that Alice would be hosting without her knowledge that turns into chaos and Alice shaking the Red Queen who she blamed for the chaos. She then wakes up holding the black kitten (Red Queen) and white kitten (White Queen). Which takes us into 2024 where we’ve crossed the chessboard and Taylor has given us a black and white album, The Tortured Poets Department which has heavy Red Era/Red Muse theming. TTLG Chessboard with addition of the rebuilding of the Lover House by re-recordings But there’s another album with Black and White imagery in Taylor’s discography which still has to be released from the vault: Reputation (the newspaper print album cover) but this time, she’s also bringing 2016 back with her in the form of the Lost Album/Karma, which means the damage that was already existing in the Lover House will be repaired by that album coming into existence. We already knew Taylor was rebuilding the Lover house from the tour visuals and that the house was set up differently than the original one. Burning Down the Lover House to rebuild it, but it's not complete...yet The Lover House she sets on fire in 1989 (burning it down because the “Rep Vault is fire” aka the Lost Album/Karma) will be rebuilt with 13 rooms. Those three large rooms in the center I believe will end up turning into two rooms each, making each room equal with her 13th album, the one where she is OUT as the attic/penthouse, completing the Lover house the way she intended it. *This* is Taylor’s Version. I hope you all enjoy, I actually dug out my laptop to make this which just goes to show how much I felt the need to post lmao bc I haven't used my laptop in over 2 years. |
2024.05.19 20:55 Designer_Fondant_403 Is my sim accurate?
 | Basically I'm thinking about writing a military fiction book and want to know if one of the situations that I've envisioned for it is militarily accurate. Necessary background context is that most world governments and military high command have collapsed. In the confusion a few nukes were fired, one was at the fourth fleet in the South Atlantic, commanded by a guy named Walker. The USS George Washington was damaged beyond repair and was abandoned along with their LHD. After some more story stuff the remaining ships end up in a competition battle sim with some people calling themselves The Silent Storm staffing a surprisingly well supplied airbase called Specter Base they found in a jungle somewhere idk. Below is the plan that the base commander has laid out for the defense. The commander has had a week to prepare for the attack. The navy wins if they can take control of the base inside 24 hours. The fleet had a platoon of marines with them when the shit went down. The base has around 50 combat capable personnel, the rest being drone command & control and pilots as well as complement of the following: submitted by Designer_Fondant_403 to Military [link] [comments]
https://preview.redd.it/lff3cdjtlf1d1.png?width=2268&format=png&auto=webp&s=9dbad8ce63bb04f006a05ca64840e84fa80c8175 Battlefield Sketch I did (if this breaks a rule I'm sorry): |
2024.05.19 20:45 Juzabro Forge of Darkness Chapter 4 Summary
Chapter 4
Location: Glimmer Fate
POV: Faror Hend
No rain on the plains in Glimmer Fate. High black grasses make the area extremely hot. Faror Hend is patrolling the edge of the Vitr Sea with her cousin Spinnock Durav. The shore of the Vitr Sea is devoid of life and the breeze coming off of it stings the lungs. The liquid of the sea dissolves almost anything it comes into contact with including stones. Spinnock is sharpening his Hust blade on a stone that has been worn away by the sea. His blade is very old and therefore does not sing. It's new to him, but has been passed down for generations. A third rider in their party, Finarra Stone, was scouting the shoreline out of sight. Nothing lived this close, so it was safe to go alone. Today the Vitr is calm, but recently it has not been and storms had resulted in its claiming more land for the sea. The sea is expanding. Eventually it will come to the border of Kurald Galain if they cannot find a solution. The Tiste have no idea what the source of the Vitr is and how to stop it's expansion. Tiste scholars are also unwilling to consult with anyone outside the Tiste.
Faror Hend is extremely attracted to Spinnock Durav, but their houses are too close in relations for her to act on this attraction. Plus she is betrothed and older, although these would not be a barrier to her. Faror thinks of a line from a Gallan poem, "The ground is bare and hard / and will hold all secrets / and the sky cares not / for the games of those beneath it." She desperately wants to act on her lust, but so far has kept in control. Faror is a big Gallan fan. Spinnock seems to know how his cousin feels and teases her.
POV: Captain Finarra Stone
During her patrol of the Vitr coastline, Finarra finds a carcass. This is puzzling as she has never seen one this close to the sea. It appears to have come out of the sea itself. The corpse is huge with scales and a tail. But a lot of the body eaten away by the Vitr. The head and neck were missing and the top of the torso appears chewed. Very few Tiste had ever claimed to have seen a dragon, but this could be one. However, those legends all had them with wings and Faror did not see any evidence of wings on this beast. A breeze brought the stench to the horse and this caused it to back up a few steps making noise. At this the stump where the neck should be lifted. The creature begins shuffling towards her. With an unbelievably fast lurch it closes the distance and swipes at Faror and her horse with two arms catching the horse with both swipes. Faror finds herself tumbling through the air. She lands on her shoulder and breaks something. The beast is still again after decimating her horse. She decides to head for flatter ground to make better time back to her party. She is the daughter of Hust Henarald and possesses his sword. Her biggest threat now were the naked wolves that roamed Glimmer Fate. Faror contemplates the meaning of dark and light and the impossibility of either without the other. She also says that Mother Dark had been a mortal Tiste woman before embracing darkness. While Finarra is contemplating, something screams at her intending to freeze her with fear. Finarra mortally wounds it as it streaks by.
POV: Faror Hend
Hearing the screams of the wolves and no sound of their prey, Faror fears Finarra is the prey. She has not returned and it has been too long. Faror decides to leave Spinnock at camp and go to investigate. He tells her to be careful and he doesn't want to lose her. She responds by saying that he has many cousins. Faror can hear at least a dozen wolves and knows that it is likely that Finarra is fighting by herself without her horse. Thinking of Spinnock's face, she attempts to replace it in her mind with her betrothed, Kagamandra Tulas. A Tiste who the war had made gaunt. Tulas was of a low house and was under the command of Vatha Urusander. This alone would not have made house Durav attempt a betrothal. However, in the war he had saved the life of Silchas Ruin and by doing so had earned the favor of Mother Dark who would reward him by making him the head of a new High House. She thinks that the war stole Tulas's ability to love anything and she is not sure she can love him either, but she will try.
Eventually she finds the place of the wolf attack. There are many dead wolves. The fighting is over, but she does not see Finarra. She thinks further down the trail she will find wolves eating her corpse. Finarra comes out from behind some boulders. Faror begins to speak, but Finarra tells her to speak softly as something has walked out of the Vitr. Finarra chastises Faror for beginning to follow the path through the grasses that would have led to her death. Faror discovers that she had almost welcomed it. Finarra was tracking whatever had walked out of the Vitr when she came upon Faror. "Small footprints, puddles of Vitr pooled in them" She tells Faror that it is their duty to track it.
POV: Finarra Stone
Finarra in a lot of pain from her shoulder and wolf bites, contemplates the look she caught in Faror's eyes. One that told her she was seeking death. She thinks the cause may be Faror's betrothal to a broken man that may be incapable of love and being in close proximity to Spinnock who oozes it. "Spinnock Durav had been pursued by women and men since he had first come of age. He had learned to not give up too much of himself, since those hands reaching for him desired little more than conquest and possession." Finarra has also caught Spinnock's adoration of his cousin turning in to something else. She knows this kind of torture between them will ruin them. She contemplates how to fix the situation. Transferring one might work, but also thinks of another more sure answer.
POV: Faror Hend
Faror and Finarra are both on the back of Faror's horse. Finarra is unconscious and Faror is having a difficult time keeping her on the horse. She thinks about Finarra only being a few years older than her, but already being a battle veteran. She realizes that the wolves she found were not the ones killed by Finarra, but those of the someone that came from the sea. Faror makes it back to the camp. They treat the unconscious woman's wounds fearing infection.
POV: Spinnock Durav
They had burned away the dead flesh and infection on Finarra's leg hoping they got it all. Finarra has not woken up and is fevered. Spinnock outlines their options whether to stay until Finarra wakes up or to try to transport her as is. Faror informs him that Finarra wanted them to track the stranger from the Vitr. Faror tells Spinnock that Finarra needs a healer and soon, but they also need to track the stranger. Faror will go after the stranger and Spinnock will take Finarra to the outpost. Spinnock follows orders, but now there is a coldness between the cousins.
Following the trail she had discovered the previous night, Faror Hend found several more wolf corpses all killed with savage blows. The path she now followed, if kept straight, would lead directly to Kharkanas. Eventually she comes to a clearing and finds a fair-skinned, blonde woman clothed only in a scaled wolf hide over her shoulders. Everywhere else was sunburnt. She appears young and has no weapon, which is curious considering her roughly cut hair and several wolf corpses. Faror says she means no harm and asks if she is an Azathanai. To this the woman responds, "I know your language. But it is not mine. Azathanai. I know that word. Azat drevlid naratarh Azathanai. The people who were never born." After a few questions that the woman cannot answer, she tells Faror that she recalls nothing not even the sea she came out of or her own name. Faror tells the woman that she will escort her to Kharkanas to meet with Mother Dark and gives the woman a Tiste name until she can recall her own. The name is T'riss. Upon hearing this the woman smiles and says, "I am “born of the sea”. Faror asks if she will walk or ride with her. T'riss says that Faror's horse looks useful and she will have one too. She turns to the grasses and conjures a horse out of them. It seems that it's weight is too much for the grasses used. Looking at Faror, T'riss then conjures clothes, lance, and a sword out of the same grasses. This scares Faror because it is god-like sorcery. "‘Mother Dark.’ T’riss smiled. ‘That is a nice title.’"
Location: 3 days out from Neret Sorr
POV: Sharenas Ankhadu
Sharenas likes the heat. She tans nice unlike most of her cohort. She hates the cold and remembers her time in the campaign against the Jheleck unfondly. She is the commander of her cohort. Her sister and cousin, Infayen Menand and Tathe Lorat, are greatly renowned in the legion and being related to them saw high expectations settled onto Sharenas's shoulders. Her relatives are not currently with the legion. Hunn Raal and Osserc are in the vanguard and Ilgast Rend was not happy to be with them. He questions whether or not Urusander knows what Hunn Raal is doing. Osserc backs up Raal and so Ilgast drops the inquiry. Sharenas thinks Osserc is lying when he says his father knows of and approves this expedition. Sharenas thinks, "Hunn Raal is honourable. He knows what he is doing, and he knows, as do we all, that what he is doing is the right thing to do" She thinks Osserc is impulsive and has a thin skin, but Hunn Raal keeps him from making brash decisions. 3 cousins of Hunn Raal also accompanied them. Serap, Risp, and Sevegg all sleep with Hunn Raal, but their second cousins so it's not illegal. The last of their party is Kagamandra Tulas. He is forbidding and dangerous and hadn't spoken since their departure. They are heading towards the Warden outpost where Tulas's betrothed is stationed. Sharenas asserts that every woman could see that Tulas is dead inside and left his soul in the war. That he longs for death. She contemplates that once Urusander remakes the Tiste into a meritocracy, that arranged marriages will no longer be. Ironically because Tulas had given so much in defense of the Tiste he would be a prize as a husband. She pities Faror Hend and her future with this man. However she considers that Faror, just days after the betrothal, signed up with the wardens to get herself as far away as possible. Sharenas is very interested in witnessing the meeting between Tulas and Faror. She resolves to help Faror out of her predicament although it is only for her own amusement.
POV: Ilgast Rend
Ilgast does not like Hunn Raal or Osserc, thinking the former vain and arrogant and the latter nothing like his father except in appearance. Ilgast does not approve of all the debauchery that his fighting had bought for the Tiste. He thinks that Urusander has lost the plot himself. It wouldn't be long before the legion rebelled under his indifference. He would love it if Draconus was put in his place, but fears this would result in great bloodshed and does not want that. He also knows that if Hunn Raal is allowed to lead the legion in Urusander's absence, civil war was assured. "In a world of blood, everyone drowns". Ilgast is disappointed in Sharenas, thinking she would be wise enough not to fall into the wake of Hunn Raal. He feels he is in the middle of this brewing conflict being of a major house and also a cohort commander in Urusander's legion. Hunn Raal thinks he will help him convince the wardens to join his cause. However, he knows Calat Hustain will not join Hunn Raal. He is far too loyal to his own house. Ilgast remembers when Mother Dark was just a Tiste woman until she found the Gate. "Darkness was many things; most of all, it was selfish"
submitted by Juzabro to Malazan [link] [comments]
Location: Glimmer Fate
POV: Faror Hend
No rain on the plains in Glimmer Fate. High black grasses make the area extremely hot. Faror Hend is patrolling the edge of the Vitr Sea with her cousin Spinnock Durav. The shore of the Vitr Sea is devoid of life and the breeze coming off of it stings the lungs. The liquid of the sea dissolves almost anything it comes into contact with including stones. Spinnock is sharpening his Hust blade on a stone that has been worn away by the sea. His blade is very old and therefore does not sing. It's new to him, but has been passed down for generations. A third rider in their party, Finarra Stone, was scouting the shoreline out of sight. Nothing lived this close, so it was safe to go alone. Today the Vitr is calm, but recently it has not been and storms had resulted in its claiming more land for the sea. The sea is expanding. Eventually it will come to the border of Kurald Galain if they cannot find a solution. The Tiste have no idea what the source of the Vitr is and how to stop it's expansion. Tiste scholars are also unwilling to consult with anyone outside the Tiste.
Faror Hend is extremely attracted to Spinnock Durav, but their houses are too close in relations for her to act on this attraction. Plus she is betrothed and older, although these would not be a barrier to her. Faror thinks of a line from a Gallan poem, "The ground is bare and hard / and will hold all secrets / and the sky cares not / for the games of those beneath it." She desperately wants to act on her lust, but so far has kept in control. Faror is a big Gallan fan. Spinnock seems to know how his cousin feels and teases her.
POV: Captain Finarra Stone
During her patrol of the Vitr coastline, Finarra finds a carcass. This is puzzling as she has never seen one this close to the sea. It appears to have come out of the sea itself. The corpse is huge with scales and a tail. But a lot of the body eaten away by the Vitr. The head and neck were missing and the top of the torso appears chewed. Very few Tiste had ever claimed to have seen a dragon, but this could be one. However, those legends all had them with wings and Faror did not see any evidence of wings on this beast. A breeze brought the stench to the horse and this caused it to back up a few steps making noise. At this the stump where the neck should be lifted. The creature begins shuffling towards her. With an unbelievably fast lurch it closes the distance and swipes at Faror and her horse with two arms catching the horse with both swipes. Faror finds herself tumbling through the air. She lands on her shoulder and breaks something. The beast is still again after decimating her horse. She decides to head for flatter ground to make better time back to her party. She is the daughter of Hust Henarald and possesses his sword. Her biggest threat now were the naked wolves that roamed Glimmer Fate. Faror contemplates the meaning of dark and light and the impossibility of either without the other. She also says that Mother Dark had been a mortal Tiste woman before embracing darkness. While Finarra is contemplating, something screams at her intending to freeze her with fear. Finarra mortally wounds it as it streaks by.
POV: Faror Hend
Hearing the screams of the wolves and no sound of their prey, Faror fears Finarra is the prey. She has not returned and it has been too long. Faror decides to leave Spinnock at camp and go to investigate. He tells her to be careful and he doesn't want to lose her. She responds by saying that he has many cousins. Faror can hear at least a dozen wolves and knows that it is likely that Finarra is fighting by herself without her horse. Thinking of Spinnock's face, she attempts to replace it in her mind with her betrothed, Kagamandra Tulas. A Tiste who the war had made gaunt. Tulas was of a low house and was under the command of Vatha Urusander. This alone would not have made house Durav attempt a betrothal. However, in the war he had saved the life of Silchas Ruin and by doing so had earned the favor of Mother Dark who would reward him by making him the head of a new High House. She thinks that the war stole Tulas's ability to love anything and she is not sure she can love him either, but she will try.
Eventually she finds the place of the wolf attack. There are many dead wolves. The fighting is over, but she does not see Finarra. She thinks further down the trail she will find wolves eating her corpse. Finarra comes out from behind some boulders. Faror begins to speak, but Finarra tells her to speak softly as something has walked out of the Vitr. Finarra chastises Faror for beginning to follow the path through the grasses that would have led to her death. Faror discovers that she had almost welcomed it. Finarra was tracking whatever had walked out of the Vitr when she came upon Faror. "Small footprints, puddles of Vitr pooled in them" She tells Faror that it is their duty to track it.
POV: Finarra Stone
Finarra in a lot of pain from her shoulder and wolf bites, contemplates the look she caught in Faror's eyes. One that told her she was seeking death. She thinks the cause may be Faror's betrothal to a broken man that may be incapable of love and being in close proximity to Spinnock who oozes it. "Spinnock Durav had been pursued by women and men since he had first come of age. He had learned to not give up too much of himself, since those hands reaching for him desired little more than conquest and possession." Finarra has also caught Spinnock's adoration of his cousin turning in to something else. She knows this kind of torture between them will ruin them. She contemplates how to fix the situation. Transferring one might work, but also thinks of another more sure answer.
POV: Faror Hend
Faror and Finarra are both on the back of Faror's horse. Finarra is unconscious and Faror is having a difficult time keeping her on the horse. She thinks about Finarra only being a few years older than her, but already being a battle veteran. She realizes that the wolves she found were not the ones killed by Finarra, but those of the someone that came from the sea. Faror makes it back to the camp. They treat the unconscious woman's wounds fearing infection.
POV: Spinnock Durav
They had burned away the dead flesh and infection on Finarra's leg hoping they got it all. Finarra has not woken up and is fevered. Spinnock outlines their options whether to stay until Finarra wakes up or to try to transport her as is. Faror informs him that Finarra wanted them to track the stranger from the Vitr. Faror tells Spinnock that Finarra needs a healer and soon, but they also need to track the stranger. Faror will go after the stranger and Spinnock will take Finarra to the outpost. Spinnock follows orders, but now there is a coldness between the cousins.
Following the trail she had discovered the previous night, Faror Hend found several more wolf corpses all killed with savage blows. The path she now followed, if kept straight, would lead directly to Kharkanas. Eventually she comes to a clearing and finds a fair-skinned, blonde woman clothed only in a scaled wolf hide over her shoulders. Everywhere else was sunburnt. She appears young and has no weapon, which is curious considering her roughly cut hair and several wolf corpses. Faror says she means no harm and asks if she is an Azathanai. To this the woman responds, "I know your language. But it is not mine. Azathanai. I know that word. Azat drevlid naratarh Azathanai. The people who were never born." After a few questions that the woman cannot answer, she tells Faror that she recalls nothing not even the sea she came out of or her own name. Faror tells the woman that she will escort her to Kharkanas to meet with Mother Dark and gives the woman a Tiste name until she can recall her own. The name is T'riss. Upon hearing this the woman smiles and says, "I am “born of the sea”. Faror asks if she will walk or ride with her. T'riss says that Faror's horse looks useful and she will have one too. She turns to the grasses and conjures a horse out of them. It seems that it's weight is too much for the grasses used. Looking at Faror, T'riss then conjures clothes, lance, and a sword out of the same grasses. This scares Faror because it is god-like sorcery. "‘Mother Dark.’ T’riss smiled. ‘That is a nice title.’"
Location: 3 days out from Neret Sorr
POV: Sharenas Ankhadu
Sharenas likes the heat. She tans nice unlike most of her cohort. She hates the cold and remembers her time in the campaign against the Jheleck unfondly. She is the commander of her cohort. Her sister and cousin, Infayen Menand and Tathe Lorat, are greatly renowned in the legion and being related to them saw high expectations settled onto Sharenas's shoulders. Her relatives are not currently with the legion. Hunn Raal and Osserc are in the vanguard and Ilgast Rend was not happy to be with them. He questions whether or not Urusander knows what Hunn Raal is doing. Osserc backs up Raal and so Ilgast drops the inquiry. Sharenas thinks Osserc is lying when he says his father knows of and approves this expedition. Sharenas thinks, "Hunn Raal is honourable. He knows what he is doing, and he knows, as do we all, that what he is doing is the right thing to do" She thinks Osserc is impulsive and has a thin skin, but Hunn Raal keeps him from making brash decisions. 3 cousins of Hunn Raal also accompanied them. Serap, Risp, and Sevegg all sleep with Hunn Raal, but their second cousins so it's not illegal. The last of their party is Kagamandra Tulas. He is forbidding and dangerous and hadn't spoken since their departure. They are heading towards the Warden outpost where Tulas's betrothed is stationed. Sharenas asserts that every woman could see that Tulas is dead inside and left his soul in the war. That he longs for death. She contemplates that once Urusander remakes the Tiste into a meritocracy, that arranged marriages will no longer be. Ironically because Tulas had given so much in defense of the Tiste he would be a prize as a husband. She pities Faror Hend and her future with this man. However she considers that Faror, just days after the betrothal, signed up with the wardens to get herself as far away as possible. Sharenas is very interested in witnessing the meeting between Tulas and Faror. She resolves to help Faror out of her predicament although it is only for her own amusement.
POV: Ilgast Rend
Ilgast does not like Hunn Raal or Osserc, thinking the former vain and arrogant and the latter nothing like his father except in appearance. Ilgast does not approve of all the debauchery that his fighting had bought for the Tiste. He thinks that Urusander has lost the plot himself. It wouldn't be long before the legion rebelled under his indifference. He would love it if Draconus was put in his place, but fears this would result in great bloodshed and does not want that. He also knows that if Hunn Raal is allowed to lead the legion in Urusander's absence, civil war was assured. "In a world of blood, everyone drowns". Ilgast is disappointed in Sharenas, thinking she would be wise enough not to fall into the wake of Hunn Raal. He feels he is in the middle of this brewing conflict being of a major house and also a cohort commander in Urusander's legion. Hunn Raal thinks he will help him convince the wardens to join his cause. However, he knows Calat Hustain will not join Hunn Raal. He is far too loyal to his own house. Ilgast remembers when Mother Dark was just a Tiste woman until she found the Gate. "Darkness was many things; most of all, it was selfish"
2024.05.19 20:11 Stephan2005 Goodbye, my twin flame
Dear D...
Before I met you, I always felt like there was something missing in my heart, ever since I was really young; there was something that no matter how much I tried to replace I could never succeed. The thoughts of this hole in my heart being existent for the rest of my life felt soothing eventually but also painful multiple times. I always felt like an outcast no matter how much I tried to fit in, no matter how close I got to my friends. When you came, all those thoughts, all those feelings got away...
When I first met you, my whole world turned upside down. The shock that flowed through felt electric, like I touched a generator that collects energy. I could feel your gaze penetrate mine and vice versa. Then we looked away and shortly aftet we persuaded each other. I was more vocal and direct, you were more quiet and stood close to me all the time. I was sensitive and tense, you were more detached and chill. The moments I talked to you felt like paradise, it felt like I was talking to a long lost friend, to a brother from an another lifetime. In our dreams the roles would be reversed all the time: I would become the quiet and cold one and you would be the sunshine boy filled with happiness and joy. And of course you were the hugger. The nerve.
I wanted to be in your presence all the time, but I was scared of the intensity as well. I could tell you were also scared of it, but everytime I was chasing, you were running. Everytime I was running you were chasing. We were never in the middle. We had different methods to cope with the connection, because we were never fully direct with each other. I would have panic attacks and cry on the corridors when no one was around and later listen to music that reminded me of you, wrote poems about you and started to draw you out of the back of my mind. It felt uncanny how much you looked just like in the drawings. You would deal with it by drinking and overthinking and later outright confess to me overnight, the last night we were together. Then we separated. I needed time to reflect, something I did for the sake of both of us. You felt hurt and I felt hurt, but we needed space. I needed space. I felt like I was too much for you, and you did not deserve me.
That is when I started to grow. To change, to try and stand up and live my life the way I used to. I thought I would go back to my heart having that hole again, and dealing with it like old times, again. But the hole was no longer there. Because you filled that place in my heart. You and only you. And the pain became more powerful. I hurt even more because the separation made me wish I was in your presence more, to just hold you and never let you go. To tell you that I love you back, but I knew you would not believe me. You would think I would only say it back out of pity, not honesty. Because you have your own demons in your head, your own voices that make you overthink. Those voices are louder then my own voice.
Then I learned about the connection. At first I left it at chance. I had moments when I was going back to you, and moments when I was leaving you. Eventually you came back, and hugged me and took a photo with me and your best friend. You asked me if things will be the same between us. I had no response. I wanted to go back to it, but I knew it would be wrong. You wanted me back but I knew you did not evolve properly. You missed me, the same I missed you if not more but as the more awakened one I had to push you away. I told you eventually that I love you back the same way you told me: through text. You denied it and thought that I was just messing with you. You stopped talking to me. I know I hurt you, but I wanted to let you know as well. I hurt you because I love you.
Months went by and I learned to not let my anger take the best of me. To not let our past define our future. I learned to love myself, use the energy you gave me, both good and bad and embrace it. You were the reflection of my shadow self, who wants to tell people sometimes to stopp bugging me and that wants to be alone sometimes and I was your shadow self, the part that you keep locked because you got hurt: the kind, loyal and naive side of you that I showcase on the outside. I kept running into you; twin flame numbers kept pestering me. Dreams kept influencing me. But I had to stay away. I could see in your eyes that you were expecting me to make a move sometimes, smile at me warmly and just stare. But you were also mirroring me; if I was away, you were also away. Then I came back to you and you felt like I was just talking to you out of pity. So you let your ego out on me again.
You cant fully grasp the connection and how this experience should transform you, not just make you feel better. That you should heal wounds, not use me as a distraction for your own pain. Our dreams were almost always manifested by you; they always appeared when I was thinking the least about you, and in them you always wanted to do something with me. You might had good intentions, but you were also taking away my energy. The energy that I would use to heal would be drained because you were taking part of it for yourself. Because you did not had your own energy to use. Because you dont want to use your own healing process and make your own energy. I learned to love myself and also to love my friends and the friendships I had with them and the blessing that comes with having such strong bonds. I learned what I want in a partner and how my life should be settled for here on out. But I know deep down that I wont love anyone as much as you. Its just not possible. They will have another place in my heart, another type of love, but no one could replace you and I know this is gonna be vice versa for you as well. From what I have seen you still did not hook up with anyone after I came in your life; for the record you ironically broke up with your girlfriend around the time I came in your life and were super curious whenever there was a girl I had a crush on.
And as much as I love you, I cant allow this. I have to block you out through every way possible. I cant force you to change for the better, but maybe if you dont have me or my energy to use, there could be a chance. We will also separate fully in a couple of weeks with me off to college and you in your last year of highschool. Maybe my full absence will help you grow, just like how I felt when I experienced the separation a year ago. Again, I hurt you because I love you. If you heal yourself you know you can find me. When you are healed just call me and I will answer. Until then you have to be put away from my mind and energy. I will be fine, I will live my life and enjoy my part of it. I will miss you every single day, but I will remind myself of how you are not healed and how you need this space for yourself. Even if this space will still make me wish to hold you in my arms, and hold you as tight as possible.
Goodbye D. Until we meet again, I hope you will have a great life ahead of you and I hope we will reunite eventually... when both of us are healed. If we dont then... I guess see you in the next lifetime.
I love you.
submitted by Stephan2005 to twinflames [link] [comments]
Before I met you, I always felt like there was something missing in my heart, ever since I was really young; there was something that no matter how much I tried to replace I could never succeed. The thoughts of this hole in my heart being existent for the rest of my life felt soothing eventually but also painful multiple times. I always felt like an outcast no matter how much I tried to fit in, no matter how close I got to my friends. When you came, all those thoughts, all those feelings got away...
When I first met you, my whole world turned upside down. The shock that flowed through felt electric, like I touched a generator that collects energy. I could feel your gaze penetrate mine and vice versa. Then we looked away and shortly aftet we persuaded each other. I was more vocal and direct, you were more quiet and stood close to me all the time. I was sensitive and tense, you were more detached and chill. The moments I talked to you felt like paradise, it felt like I was talking to a long lost friend, to a brother from an another lifetime. In our dreams the roles would be reversed all the time: I would become the quiet and cold one and you would be the sunshine boy filled with happiness and joy. And of course you were the hugger. The nerve.
I wanted to be in your presence all the time, but I was scared of the intensity as well. I could tell you were also scared of it, but everytime I was chasing, you were running. Everytime I was running you were chasing. We were never in the middle. We had different methods to cope with the connection, because we were never fully direct with each other. I would have panic attacks and cry on the corridors when no one was around and later listen to music that reminded me of you, wrote poems about you and started to draw you out of the back of my mind. It felt uncanny how much you looked just like in the drawings. You would deal with it by drinking and overthinking and later outright confess to me overnight, the last night we were together. Then we separated. I needed time to reflect, something I did for the sake of both of us. You felt hurt and I felt hurt, but we needed space. I needed space. I felt like I was too much for you, and you did not deserve me.
That is when I started to grow. To change, to try and stand up and live my life the way I used to. I thought I would go back to my heart having that hole again, and dealing with it like old times, again. But the hole was no longer there. Because you filled that place in my heart. You and only you. And the pain became more powerful. I hurt even more because the separation made me wish I was in your presence more, to just hold you and never let you go. To tell you that I love you back, but I knew you would not believe me. You would think I would only say it back out of pity, not honesty. Because you have your own demons in your head, your own voices that make you overthink. Those voices are louder then my own voice.
Then I learned about the connection. At first I left it at chance. I had moments when I was going back to you, and moments when I was leaving you. Eventually you came back, and hugged me and took a photo with me and your best friend. You asked me if things will be the same between us. I had no response. I wanted to go back to it, but I knew it would be wrong. You wanted me back but I knew you did not evolve properly. You missed me, the same I missed you if not more but as the more awakened one I had to push you away. I told you eventually that I love you back the same way you told me: through text. You denied it and thought that I was just messing with you. You stopped talking to me. I know I hurt you, but I wanted to let you know as well. I hurt you because I love you.
Months went by and I learned to not let my anger take the best of me. To not let our past define our future. I learned to love myself, use the energy you gave me, both good and bad and embrace it. You were the reflection of my shadow self, who wants to tell people sometimes to stopp bugging me and that wants to be alone sometimes and I was your shadow self, the part that you keep locked because you got hurt: the kind, loyal and naive side of you that I showcase on the outside. I kept running into you; twin flame numbers kept pestering me. Dreams kept influencing me. But I had to stay away. I could see in your eyes that you were expecting me to make a move sometimes, smile at me warmly and just stare. But you were also mirroring me; if I was away, you were also away. Then I came back to you and you felt like I was just talking to you out of pity. So you let your ego out on me again.
You cant fully grasp the connection and how this experience should transform you, not just make you feel better. That you should heal wounds, not use me as a distraction for your own pain. Our dreams were almost always manifested by you; they always appeared when I was thinking the least about you, and in them you always wanted to do something with me. You might had good intentions, but you were also taking away my energy. The energy that I would use to heal would be drained because you were taking part of it for yourself. Because you did not had your own energy to use. Because you dont want to use your own healing process and make your own energy. I learned to love myself and also to love my friends and the friendships I had with them and the blessing that comes with having such strong bonds. I learned what I want in a partner and how my life should be settled for here on out. But I know deep down that I wont love anyone as much as you. Its just not possible. They will have another place in my heart, another type of love, but no one could replace you and I know this is gonna be vice versa for you as well. From what I have seen you still did not hook up with anyone after I came in your life; for the record you ironically broke up with your girlfriend around the time I came in your life and were super curious whenever there was a girl I had a crush on.
And as much as I love you, I cant allow this. I have to block you out through every way possible. I cant force you to change for the better, but maybe if you dont have me or my energy to use, there could be a chance. We will also separate fully in a couple of weeks with me off to college and you in your last year of highschool. Maybe my full absence will help you grow, just like how I felt when I experienced the separation a year ago. Again, I hurt you because I love you. If you heal yourself you know you can find me. When you are healed just call me and I will answer. Until then you have to be put away from my mind and energy. I will be fine, I will live my life and enjoy my part of it. I will miss you every single day, but I will remind myself of how you are not healed and how you need this space for yourself. Even if this space will still make me wish to hold you in my arms, and hold you as tight as possible.
Goodbye D. Until we meet again, I hope you will have a great life ahead of you and I hope we will reunite eventually... when both of us are healed. If we dont then... I guess see you in the next lifetime.
I love you.