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Danielle Elizabeth

04/09/2021 08:27 PM 

Potions Class- Drabble

**Disclaimer: This contains a child/teenage version of Danielle- A Hogwarts DrabbleDialogue: Danielle=Orange; Dumbledore=Pale Red**Danielle was having a hard time at school lately. This mostly stemmed from her brother and the fact that her father was disappointed in her for not sharing the family's views and for not being a Slytherin like the rest of her family. At Hogwarts, people have what is called a "Boggart". It is a type of shapeshifter that has no form on its own, but when it encounters a person, it can transform into a person's worst fear. Her worst fear was her father. On this particular day, like usual, she had Potions class with Professor Severus Snape who obviously didn't like her and thought she was a disappointment just like her father, Lucius did. At every turn, she felt as if she was letting at least someone down, no matter how hard she tried her best in school, with the exception of Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. They were the only ones as far as teachers go that never made her feel like a disappointment.As Potions class started, like any other day, she got out her Potions book and had a black cauldron in front of her, and after some instruction from Professor Snape, got the ingredients for a potion they would be learning. Snape, of course, acted as if she would mess it up. She read the book carefully and did each instruction to the letter in the book for the potion. It also did not help that her professor kept looking over her shoulder the entire time hoping to catch in the act of messing up the potion. It got to the point that she stopped what she was doing for a few seconds, looked behind her and saw her professor sneering at her. This made her say what was on her mind. "Professor, I would appreciate it if you would stop mocking me and let me do the potion you want us to do. I am tired of feeling like a dissapointment. You hovering over my shoulder DOES NOT help! But since you have decided to hover so much over my shoulder just hoping that I would mess up, you can forget about me finishing the potion."She paused before saying more. Danielle knew that her professor was going to send her out of the class and to the headmaster for this, so before he could, she spoke up on her behalf."Also, I will be taking my things and speak to the Headmaster himself. Thought I would save you the energy, and another thing, if you want to be a good teacher, stop making your students feel like failures!"Danielle got her things and headed out of the class room to go to Dumbledore's office. She did not know if she was going to be in trouble but she felt good for standing up for herself. Normally, she'd just sit there and take whatever her Potions professor dished out at her, same as some of the other teachers, and normally she'd allow them to treat her so horribly especially her father and brother. Once she got to Dumbledore's office, she asked to speak with him."I am sorry for disturbing you, Headmaster. I couldn't take Professor Snape's sneering and mockery any longer. I normally don't like to cause trouble, but I felt it was time I stood up for myself. I get a lot crap from my father and brother already, I certainly did not need it from my professor too. I understand if you're disappointed in me, Headmaster.""On the contrary, my dear. You've displayed bravery in standing up for yourself. I will have a talk with Snape, what I want you to do now, is go see Professor McGonagall. She will be teaching you for the rest of the day, my dear on Transfigurations. I know it's a hard class, but seeing as you have displayed some characteristics of a Gryffindor, I feel you will do just fine in that class. I will also be rewarding Gryffindor 50 points for your bravery.""Thank you, Headmaster. I will be on my way to the Transfigurations class then."To say that Danielle had self confidence issues was an understatement. Yes she stood up for herself against Professor Snape, but she was far from having the self confidence she wanted. As she headed to the Transfigurations class, she pondered what had happened in the Potions room earlier. Why was Snape always over her shoulder? Why was he always hoping she would mess up? Did he think she wasn't as good as her brother at potions, or did Snape just like picking on her in general? Why did her Potions professor hate her so much?? She did not have an answer to these questions. 

myths of innocence.

04/09/2021 05:54 PM 

dossier.

    Erin P. Singh.  Vocation — child millionaire and majority shareholder in the Singh-Bradford Foundation; part time grocery clerkAge: 21Gender: MaleTitle(s): Pat, or simply Erin ( eh ·ruhn )Character Tier: LowArchetype(s): Final boy, horror movie hero; debaucherous, ethical; exasperated wealth meets a hunger for answers ╱ purposeBirthplace: Gresham, Oregon  Description Hair and eyes like a dirt-rich stream, shoulders broad, chin square, and back straight, Erin is strikingly forgettable in his every-man appearance. Well-groomed, face shaven clean, and although rarely adorned in suit and tie, he’s likely one of the tidiest men you’ll ever meet. The only memorable peculiarity of his appearance is his gravity-defying hair; once as dark as a lump of coal, a single night changed his life, and it became lighter, more reminiscent of coffee grounds than anything.Personality — Drunken frat would describe the first half of Erin’s twenties; the second half will no doubt be characterized by his dreadful rehabilitation from his devout sense of service to his adoptive parents. He becomes very serious, stern, and situation-appropriate. Every moment, an opportunity for tactical analysis, be it participating in lounge jokes or silencing his own fear in favor of Quinn’s level-headedness. He blends into life’s turmoil like a chameleon, efficacious enough to not seem out of place but not so much as to be memorable. This has lent itself to the loss of many of his friends and the termination of several close relationships. Wealth When he was fifteen, Erin studied the elaborate porcelain jigsaw puzzle strewn across the expansive floor of the Bradford Foundation boardroom. The hand-painted tiles depicted a battle; the Third Punic War; a fact entirely unrelated to anything, but it distracted him from the death of his most recent adoptive father. Both signified the end of something perceived to be great, but not so entirely—the Carthage Empire and Alexander Bradford. Bradford was third in a line of wealthy adoptive parents Erin had secured for himself after decades of torment and terror, making his estate—estimated at $31 million—one of the wealthiest and diverse in the state of Oregon.

Lexi

04/09/2021 05:55 PM 

muse day playlist task 09.04.21

ENFJ-T Playlist 1. Duke Ellington - Take The  A Train2. Dave Brubeck - Take 53. Doris Day - Dream A  Little Dream of Me4. Corinne Bailey Rae - Put Your Records On5. Nina Simone - Take Care of Business6. Mungo Jerry - In the Summer Time7. Django Reinhardt-  Minor Swing8. Parov Stelar - Booty Swing9. Doja Cat - Like That 10. Destiny's Child - Independent Women

Lexi

04/09/2021 05:54 PM 

MUSE DAY MOOD BOARD 09.04.21

𝔖𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔩

04/09/2021 05:42 PM 

The Heart of the Trickster

The Heart of the Trickster, April TTB Drabblemention: Celtic Fire and Veni Vedi Vici Scoundrel /1694031 It was a penthouse fit for a god. That’s what everything was. He was Hermes, god of travelers and the messenger of Zeus. He was standing on his balcony with a cell phone pressed to his ear. These modern contraptions of conveying messages were far more convenient than the old days. It also afforded him a chance to be away from his father and still be his messenger. “Yes, you heard right. I will be in Dublin tomorrow night. I have to stay here in New York for just another day.” Hermes was pacing back and forth on the balcony almost like a caged animal. It was a good thing the balcony was spacious and gave him plenty of room.There was a young looking man with a full head of flaming red hair that approached him on the balcony. While Hermes was dressed in a pair of tan slacks and a light blue polo shirt, the young man was wearing a white shirt with a pair of black slacks. His eyes were a shamrock color. The young man looked as though he was only just barely younger than Hermes, but there was quite a story behind who he was. He waited patiently for Hermes to end his phone call. While he was waiting, he pulled out his own phone to reply to a few texts he’d received. There was a lot on his mind as well. His thoughts were conflicted and deeply concerned when it came to a lost soul. This lost soul meant a lot to Hermes, but she also meant everything to him.His name was Cian Patrick Vitale. He had a head of perfectly coiffed hair that was without a doubt a vibrant red. The shamrock color of his optics were an homage to the land in which he'd been born. The calendar pointed to his birth around the year 385. After all these years, the days just sort of melded together. He was a god. He was not an old god. He was very young by the standards of the gods. He was actually fully aware he had quite a cadre of half brothers and half sisters both demigods and gods like himself. He was fully aware of the fact he was the youngest son of Hermes that had been a full fledged god. Demigod children of Hermes were of very little importance. His father was a Greek God who was lonely. Loneliness with Greek gods and mortal women usually meant dailances. Dailiances and Greek gods meant demigods were born. Cian’s grandfather Zeus was evidence of that. Cian’s gaze met that of his father who was still on the phone.Hermes turned to see that look upon the face of the godling. Cian was so faithful and loyal to him. He spoke into the phone. “I’ll call you back.” He tapped off the phone and slid it into his pocket. Hermes took a deep look into those shamrock hues. His heart ached when he looked into the eyes of his son. Cian was his son. Cian’s mother was the Celtic goddess Brigid. Brigid held the true heart of Hermes. He was spending all his time and effort with her about seven hundred years ago. Their love resulted in the conception and birth of Cian. Hermes had never forgotten that red headed babe with the eyes of the color of Ireland itself wrapped in a basket of heather. That had been his proudest moment. Shortly after that he’d lost almost everything.The battle between Hermes and Zeus had lit up the skies all over Europe from the Islands in the East to the Islands in the Mediterranean. Never before had Hermes actually stood against his father in such a manner. He’d fought Zeus and lost. Instead of taking his son’s godhood and cast him out of his sight, Zeus took something else far more precious to him. Zeus stole Brigid and sent her into the world of men without a memory of who she was or what she was. Hermes kept his son Cian because of the intervention of his stepmother Hera. The child was a full blood god and deserved to be raised among his own kind. Half Celt and half Greek, Cian would become the closest thing he had to his beloved still with him. He reminded him of Brigid every day. Hermes took his young godling son and cupped his hand behind his neck. He pulled the boy to him. Hermes touched his forehead to that of his son. “I know it hurts. It never stops. Everywhere I look I see her and I can’t find her.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “We have to do it this way. I promise I haven’t forgotten.”Cian’s voice was just as silent as his father’s. “It’s been so long, Dad. I have these memories of her singing to me in my crib, a lullaby in Gaelic. She was so beautiful. I know she’s out there. We’ve been looking for so long.” His voice cracked. In terms of immortal gods, Cian was still so young. He had a huge hole in his heart that was the same shape of the hole in his father’s heart.Hermes released his son and dropped his hands to his sides. Silent tears began trailing down his face dropping to the ground below. “I never forgot. Seven hundred years Cian. Seven hundred years and I’ve thought about her every day. Don’t you see that I’m trying?” He looked back at his son with tear stains upon his handsome features and a heavy heart.Cian reached for his father and clung to him desperately. “I know you are Dad. I promise I know.” He whispered. His own shamrock hues were glistening for the mother that often filled his dreams.Hermes clung to the son that was hurting as much as he was. He was grateful to Hera for intervening which allowed him to keep Cian. He would have lost his mind had he not been allowed to keep the son of his heart. The search would be over some day. And when he had Brigid back again, all would be right. Until then, the trickster god had to mind every action he took with the full knowledge that Zeus could see through all of it and discover that they were hunting for his lost love. Until then, the heart of a god and his son would remain broken.    “I am looking for the one I can’t fool.” ― Kamand Kojouri. credit: james kriet

Casey.

04/09/2021 02:20 PM 

waiting for the thread to snap.

( based on this. ) “I didn’t think you were gonna come.” Sarah mused, sitting beside him on the porch. Neither did he. Casey’s legs ached with temptation to run off down the street, but he hadn’t quite regained his strength yet. He just shook his head, staring down at his hospital bracelet - tangible, plastic shame wrapped too-tightly around his wrist.  His mouth hung slightly open, but he had nothing to say. The words were stuck, garbled and incoherent in the back of his throat. If he tried to get the words out, what kind of guttural sound would he make instead? It felt like a dream, sitting outside a home that was no longer home - that looked nothing like home, his whole life hanging in the balance by a fine thread, yet he felt entirely hollow. Sitting on the outskirts, outside himself, he wished that thread would finally snap. Send him back to reality, or send him away all together, he had no preference. Sarah set a cup of coffee down beside him, but he didn’t touch it. “I kinda thought you’d tell me to get lost,” Sarah went on. She always hated an awkward silence, but pity did funny things to people. He apparently looked pathetic enough for her to try and work past it. “I don’t know why I didn’t.” Running his fingers through his hair, he finally cracked a smile, a sluggish tug at the corner of his lip, faint but the most he could muster. “Maybe I really have lost it.” “Why me, Casey?” Sarah asked. His eyebrows furrowed. The sudden urgency only added to the dreamlike feeling he’d already been struggling with. “Why you?” “Why was it me you texted and not Christian?” Casey rolled his eyes. “If it was my choice, I wouldn’t have texted either of you.” “Well, you did,” Sarah snapped. “You can hide behind being f***ed up if you want to, but you did make a choice.” “Look, I don’t wanna talk about it.” “You never do, do you?” “I don’t really have to at this point.” “What would Savannah do without you, Casey?” Another turn in his stomach - the same one the bracelet had caused. When Casey finally brought his focus on Sarah, her eyes were glazed over, but any tears were quickly swiped away once she caught him looking. He turned his head too, tensing his jaw, trying anything to hold his own tears back. Dying didn’t terrify him, but losing all sense of himself did. The wait for the thread to snap was getting to be excruciating. “I know…” "Listen, I’m sorry for what I said...” Sarah let up, but still wouldn’t look at him and he couldn’t look at her either. Casey shook his head. “You weren’t wrong. I deserved it.” “That’s not true... I didn’t think you’d -.” “I’d do it?” “Yeah…” Casey looked down at his hospital bracelet again - tangible shame, tangible disappointment, tangible fear. He scoffed through his nose, finally hauling himself up off the steps. “Trust me, neither did I.” “You’re not gonna see Savannah?” “Not like this. I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell her anything yet, okay?” “Sure.” Sarah came to her feet too. “Look, I meant it when I said I was sorry.” “I know.” Casey started off to his car. It wasn’t that he didn’t accept it, he just still wasn’t sure it was owed to him. “Thanks for everything.”

𝐸𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓇 𝒮𝓂𝒾𝓉𝒽.

04/09/2021 08:57 PM 

Request! - Outfits.

Casual Outfit.Winter - Casual.Casual - Sleep wear.Fancy/Dressy casual - Request.Request - Fancy dressy.Sports - Request.Work - Request.Not her style - Forced case.Wedding - Request. 

𝐸𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓇 𝒮𝓂𝒾𝓉𝒽.

04/09/2021 08:55 PM 

Home is home - Sample/Drabble.

      Coming back home. -Drabble. C.S  In all her years, she didn’t think that being away from her brother would take such a toll on her before this. Then again, her brother was like her big rock when things got tough. Eleanor smiled to herself, her hands folded in her lap, shaking with the movement of the taxi car. Worriedly, her eyes darted out the window and back to her hands, wondering when the car would stop. Her father automatically sealed to meet with her big brother and his adoring but overwhelming family.It came to two hours of painful waiting until the car stopped. Suddenly, her breath hitched. Green eyes peered outside to see her brother waving on the side of the road. He lived in his own apartment, but for time’s sake; they met where he used to live. The old tower block wasn’t the best for them, but they made do with her help. Her eyes burned with the tell signs of tears, blinking quickly to get rid of them. Her hand shakily moved the door open, and she stepped out quietly, Micheal her brother walked over and gave the driver some money before joining her near the back of the car.“I’ve got it.” He told her in his rough and slightly playful voice, deep, and yet there was a lightness to it. When she was young, he used to always be tower than her and this would be no different. Eleanor didn’t grow in height once she gained weight and lost it. So did he, in fact. Her brother was a tall man with broad shoulders. He works out like any man and everything, because of some back problems he had to resort to other means of workout. He wasn’t small by any means, his long brown hair now short and curly. Waving around in all directions like the evil scientist.Micheal swung her duffle bag over his shoulder and looked down, his square face naturally spreading into a big grin. The same brown eyes playfully eyeing her down. “Ready for a big weekend kid?”“...Still with the kid nickname!” Eleanor complained, her lips twitching at the sides of it. Her round face framed with her long brown hair, the length of it reaching around her waist. Her hands gently smoothed the leather jacket she wore, the entire outfit screamed her home in Scotland. Skinny jeans, a simple black top with thin straps, and her personal touch of new boots. Then she shifted the scarf around her neck and fixed each glove on her hand. The only other thing she had been her earrings dangling from her ears and a black leather shoulder bag on her right shoulder.“Psh, you are a kid to me.”“Oh, shut it.”Eleanor rolled her eyes while her brother snorted beside her in his jeans and a black shirt with the band of Paramore on it. Both reasonably shared the same love for rock and metal music.“...So how is?..”“...Mum doing?” Micheal finished for her with a small smile, his eyes never losing their warmth. “Good, sore, you know she isn’t going to ever be... Not sore.” He told her while shrugging his shoulders.Eleanor nodded her head silently, her eyes reflecting the concern. Her lips pressed together, “Yeah... I know.”They continued to walk down the street to a comfortable home. The white house squeezed between the others revealed a car up the front garden. A white door with the number four, her mouth opened wide and then her eyes moved to Micheal. “Seriously?” she couldn’t help the smile that came to her face, the previous topic is forgotten when he smiled and nodded his head with another grin. “That’s amazing! I can’t believe you got the house and the car.”“I know, right? Took forever, but with Rogue and Ronin getting bigger, we didn’t have a choice anymore.”“We warned you before can’t say this wasn’t coming.”Micheal's grin widened slightly, flicking his annoyance glance at her at first. “Yeah, yeah.” He said, waving a hand at her while they moved up the staircase. The silence came back and this time they could feel the tension coming back to them. He knew why she left, and he couldn’t blame her either. Sarah, the white wolf, followed from behind as big as ever, head titled slightly near his sister. The big canine paraded around the garden for a moment before following them inside. The white fur brushing along his jean leg when it brushed by into the bigger garden outback.The siblings followed and noted the screams from the children and family, Eleanor stood at the gate and watched for a moment. Her eyes took in her mother, who had more grey hair than ever. Sitting in her chair rather frail-looking, this was the hardest part for her personally. Seeing her mother so weak-looking made her want to run. The other man sat next to her, equally weak-looking, but he was bald and had a bushy beard around his face. Pale blue eyes giving away his difference to them.Micheal stepped inside and let her inside and they both slightly moved over to them.Home - I felt good to be home for once.Everyone turned to meet her gaze and smiled warmly, each reaction different. Mary Smith allowed her lips to stretch across her face, “Baby girl. How are you?” She breathed softly, her wrinkled fingers held out for her to take. The only thing she could do was take her mother’s hands and returned the smile.“Good... Mama, good.” Eleanor breathed unevenly, her fingers tingled slightly, she could feel the weak grasp of her mother’s fingers and it nearly did her in there. Swallowing thickly, she offered her a squeeze to reassure her she was here.She was home.Mary’s face softened slightly, her brown eyes growing misty, “Oh baby... It’s okay. We understood.”Eleanor closed her eyes and nodded her head. There was no excuse for why she left, while not wanting to endanger them, she also had to get away and they knew that. She couldn’t help the guilt though, she opened her eyes only to let the tears fill her eyes and this time let them fall. “I’m so sorry for not coming back sooner.” She said shakily, the tears falling down her rosy cheeks.Home... This was her home, and she loved it for the good and bad.

𝐸𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓇 𝒮𝓂𝒾𝓉𝒽.

04/09/2021 08:53 PM 

The perfect day - Sample/Drabble.

If someone were to say to her, she would marry one day, she would have laughed at them and waved the topic off. There was no way she would ever marry, that was just a fact in her life. Hell, she couldn’t even bring herself to date someone never minds marry so why would she go there? The thought of someone thinking she had any chance was foolish. Miracles can happen. She remembered the words well enough. Then again, she used to think that being she would never believe in such things. She wished for someone who would look at her for her and not ask her to change or give promises, like how she would grow stronger in time or change. What if she was just herself, not every girl is strong, or boy? It was such a hurtful thing to say, but come to think of it everyone changed but... She did change, and it wasn’t a good one.As a child, she was very upbeat, loud, and sometimes she could terrorize those around her when she wanted to do it. Eleanor didn’t have many memories of her as a kid. She saw some photos, but that was about it. She had her mother’s brown curly hair tied into two twin buns on her head. Her mother made her wear a white buttoned shirt and some jeans. In the picture, she was sitting down on a stool and seemed to laugh at something the photographer was doing. Her round face beamed all the way, her rosy cheeks bright, with her grin spreading across her face to show her white teeth. According to her mother, he paid her to take one photo of her, gave them the picture.Now? Now she stood in front of a long mirror in her room. out the shower, Eleanor's wet hair now reached past her shoulders the blonde came back through with some brown still in her hair. Cut to her shoulders was a good move, it made her face stand out. Her brown eyes stared at herself, or rather the thing behind her in the reflection. The white dress behind her hanging on her door, yes. This was it. She was getting MARRIED.Eleanor felt herself smile, her brown eyes becoming misty. This was going to happen. Her hands eased the white robe she wore when she heard footsteps come closer to the room.“Rogue, don’t run!”“...Sorry, Nana!” A sullen voice said behind the door but continued to push the door open. Revealing a little girl with an identical look of young Eleanor, her brown eyes peering up at her, long brown hair tied into a loose braid behind her with her daisy crown on her head. Launching herself onto her without another word. “I missed you, Elle!”The following woman walked in with gray hair, her same brown eyes and plump face obviously revealing her as the mother. “Dear girl, you need to be more careful.” Mary scolded, closing the door behind her and running her hand through her now fuzzy curls on her head. Her hairstyle is not short because of the many tablets she had, it left her with everything falling out so she cut it.Eleanor laughed at them and bent over to pick up the child in her arms, instantly feeling her wrap her arms around her neck. Shifting so Rogue was on her hip and sitting comfortably, “Calm down, Mama.”“...Alright.” Mary closed her eyes and pinched her lips at them, completely not calm from her annoyed expression. “Now, come on time to get this done.” She told them once her eyes opened again, clapping her hands and rubbing them together eagerly.“Yeah, yeah...”“...Yeah, yeah!” Rogue grinned at them while repeating what she said. Earning her another laugh from the bride to be, and an eye roll from the mother.Eleanor walked over to the bed in her room. The purple covers from her week of staying here with the equal; and slightly darker purple of her wall around them. Setting down the mischievous girl on the bed. Then she disappeared behind the door to the right of her bed and her mother walked over to the door she came through. Taking the dress off the door before bringing it back to her, “...How do you feel?”“A nervous wreck.” Eleanor was quick to huff at her playfully, her hand taking the dress from in there and rolling up the dress before moving it over her headfirst. Each arm going through before she stepped out to have it tied.“Don’t be. Everything will be fine.” Mary rolled her eyes for the second time. Following behind, instantly taking the time to tighten the dress, ignoring the grunts from her daughter with every pull.Her dress was the shape of the A-Dresses that seems to be so in right now. The bodice fit perfectly around her upper body, tightened until she felt everything cling to her with reasonable notice. The neckline was a simple off-the-shoulder number with a small dip for the heart shape neckline, not quite either but a bit of both. The waist was a simple one, natural; the rest flowing out to the ground and trailing behind her with a decently long train. The entire dress was made of Charmeuse fabric, which made it light to move in. A few flowers decorated around the dress just stood out. The entire decoration coming from her waist and branching out down the dress complimented her simple style.Eleanor smiled her face seemed to glow slightly, “I can’t believe how simple and elegant this is.” She told her mother, being guided to the vanity to sit down.“Mm, hold still.”Mary brought the brush to her blonde hair and slowly began taking out the tugs first. Then she gathered it up and skillfully twisted it into a bun, pinning where it was needed before adding the comb to her hair. While she did this, Rogue watched from the bed and kicked her legs lightly, her eyes looking around the room. Finally, noticing her aunt put her earrings on her ears and then the dainty necklace on her neck. Finally, slipping on her gloves before turning to face her mother, only adding what was needed with her make-up before setting her tiara on her head.The tension seemed to build up between them when it was all done, Mary took a step back and let her slip on her high heel pumps on her feet. Eleanor did just that and tried to hide her face, her eyes growing slightly misty after everything. Standing up, she stared at her mother and gave her a watery smile. “Ready?”Mary returned the smile, while her eyes filled with tears. “Of course, baby girl.” She said with a shaky breath until Rogue jumped between them and grin at them innocently. The two laughed together and walked out while setting her veil into her hair before making their way into the white limo waiting outside.Eleanor stared awe-struck at the limo. How could he even afford such a thing? The smile grew on her face with genuine happiness, staring outside to see the houses go by. This was it.She was getting married.

𝐸𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓇 𝒮𝓂𝒾𝓉𝒽.

04/09/2021 08:52 PM 

Her Saviour, her friend.-Sample/Drabble.

     Close one - Drabble. C.S It was cold. So f***ing freezing.Funny, she used to think this was what it felt like before until now. The last thing she thought about was how her life turned to this point. A backstabbing bitch she never needed to see or hear from again. The people who tried to help and failed. Her personal issues with her brother being the smart one, the one who finished school - Having a family of his own wasn’t enough. It implied he craved to include her with every fiber of his being. Didn’t he realize just how hurtful that was?The irony that kindness can be unkind...Why she was stupid three days ago, she didn’t know. The idea was to do the week over on the trip and come back before the weekend. Then... She was gone. Eleanor couldn’t believe it. Abandoned repeatedly, she was so sick of it. How many times can disappointment eat her up?The last time she was up and about she remembered... It was cold, not as cold as now. Just cold enough to make her wrap her arms around herself for warmth. The men - Guns and a wolf? The animal growled behind and then... Blackness. The painful throb in her head made her groan. Eyes fluttering open to reveal the night sky, her lips curled and bitterly the woman smiled.Still, living even now?A soft growl made her jump up, the instant pain in her skull caused her to hiss, her hand coming to her head. “Oh! You shouldn’t move dear.” A voice harshly whispered from the other side, obviously pacing toward her bent form.Eleanor glanced over slowly, making sure not to do too much. “...Hah?” She uttered, then her green eyes noticed the fire and the surrounding tents before she took in the young woman who held a motherly look of concern on her face. “Oh...” She muttered her eyes widened at her before moving to the white beast beside her who sat tall. Head titled at her, the silvery fur seemed to make the beast even more... Otherworldly, the moon the fur gleam in place with gold eyes staring her down.“...You saved me?”

𝐸𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓇 𝒮𝓂𝒾𝓉𝒽.

04/09/2021 08:45 PM 

Sample for Eleanor, one.

Starter for Soldier of Heaven"Dean Winchester.Not my best - Enjoy!Leaving everyone behind used to be an easy thought when she was a child. No nagging step-dad, no mother trying to force her to go out and date someone her age. Her brother wouldn’t be able to stop her from doing her own thing. It was easy, exciting and once and for all she had no school bullies trying to push her around. That was when her teen years started or rather... The start of all that bullying from people her own age. Back then, she was just so quiet and easily pushed into tears. The response was just something that encouraged kids to do more before they snapped on them.Detective Eleanor couldn’t completely agree with anything she thought back then. Not now, not when her mind was more grown-up, childish dreams set aside. She had to leave because of certain new things in her life, and it was understandable. Did that mean it didn’t hurt her to do so? No, of course not. Eleanor promised to keep in touch, but honestly? She missed them terribly.Maybe that was why she settled in New York City, it wasn’t close to home or anything. She just liked this loud traffic and curses going through the day. Scotland wasn’t a quiet place around where she lived. Even now, she can just imagine her home in her head. Fortunately, dreamland was interrupted by her companion by her side. The distant bark from her table made her jump in her leather office hair. Light green eyes blinking owlishly before looking down to see the animal waiting for her attention.“...Hey, girl.” She said with a small smile coming to her face, the large canine rolling her tongue out along her mouth before letting her tail sway slightly from behind. The gold-like eyes staring at her with clear intelligence, her fur was entirely in white, all of her breeds are different, but she was the type to gain a rather bushy appearance with her fur around the winter. The heaviness was largely seen at her back and dragging down to her tail. Sarah also had pointy ears that are often upright, flattened whenever danger is around, or her emotion down spirals.Comparing her to a dog was stupid, but you could tell the difference if you knew them well enough. A wolf had a longer muzzle like her, longer and sharper teeth are often revealed when she parted her mouth. Her body was larger even for a female - must have been an alpha in her time, or so Eleanor guessed. It wasn’t like she was rescued by wild animals often or anything like that.“Alright, time for some food then.” This got the wolf's ears to perk upward, sitting up on her paws now, her tail wagging much quicker and barking with a sharp note.Eleanor's smile widened at the obvious excitement from her companion for a year or two now, taking a stand from her desk, the office decorated in simply oak floors, the entire outline of her wall visually painted in a deep red for the sake of it not being white. Dark colors don’t show as much dirt as light ones, which she expressed would be better considering her time on those cases. The loft apartment was all in one her home and her only place away from home, the stairs housed the oak desk settled at the back with her office hair, in another corner was a matching desk that was clean and ready, should she agree to another partner.A set of glass stairs lead her down to another wooden floor. Underneath the stairs was the bedroom that no one could see. While the floor she was on was her living room in the middle kitchen, just right of it. The metal holding up everything, with the concrete counter, topped with a wooden top revealed the difference from normal homes. The sitting room was a built-in step, leading down to the couches settled in a square with the wooden coffee table in the middle. A wide screen was up on the wall in front of them. She rarely offered a big case, but it came with big money - Lucky for her.The duo made it to the small, comfortable kitchen. Sitting on the counter were two dishes, Eleanor hummed softly. She was still a wolf, so her diet had to be raw meat. Taking a packet out of her freezer that was chicken - A simple dish for a breakfast. Then she turned back to her counter and pulled out one of the dishes before pouring some cold water into the metal dish, setting it down on the floor for her to drink.Sarah might have saved her, but never try to trust them while eating. Wolves are especially dangerous when this is going on. That’s why her water was away from the counter, while Eleanor watched. Shortly after that, she gazed at the chicken, wrinkling her nose at the disgusting meat in the packet. Cutting it was awful, but good for her pet.Shortly after ripping everything out, she grabbed her knife and did minor cuts to place into another bowl. “...This is so gross,” Eleanor muttered under her breath, brown eyes shut tight for a second. The sound of Sarah shuffling her dish around when she finished her water, a sign she had to move it. Once the chicken was chopped, she stepped over to her companion and set it down before moving ten paces back. A safe distance wasn’t enough, so she kneeled down to her friend’s height and waited.Wolves are very territorial, but if you stay down to their height and keep a watchful eye, most will enjoy the food and ignore you. Her canine pal cocked her head at the dish and her snout parted, teeth showing before lowering her head down in a low growl. Sarah lowered her body even lower and eyed her owner warily before ignoring her completely.“Honestly,” A sigh of relief came from her before slowly reaching her full height. Still in her booty shorts and a black tank top, a plaid shirt covering her for warmth. “Never a dull morning.”Shaking her head, she turned away and walked past the counter toward the back of the apartment to find a modest bedroom. Unlike the office, her room walls are concrete, flooring the same wood with a purple fur carpet covering the middle. Her bed settled against the wall as she goes in. Right of her was a slid and open wardrobe, a set of shelves and drawers. It was small but money was scarce lately so there was nothing she could do about it. The last room only left her bathroom right beside the door, thankfully capable of being simple and easy to clean.At the end of the morning, she found them eventful, heading for the bathroom and closing the door behind her to do normal morning chores. Sarah usually found her way around, lazing on the couch or chewing some toy she left around for her in the living room.Eleanor stepped out with steam following her an hour later. She might not be girly, but long showers are part of her morning when she could get them. Long cases sometimes moved her around too much for the luxury, much to her displeasure. Stepping around her room, pulling out some underwear and skinny jeans with a black top, whatever she could find that morning would have to do. It wasn’t like she tried to impress the surrounding people.Pulling her top over her head, her jeans buttoned on her waist when she sat down on her modest bed. Sarah came walking in with her ball, settling in the room bed like she always did. “What did I say about sleeping on my bed?” Eleanor complained, her eyes glaring over her shoulder.The wolf ignored whatever she said, laying her head down on paws, with her eyes looking up at her from behind. Eleanor rolled her eyes, annoyed. Turning her head back, she pulled up her socks and ankle boots, throwing on her earrings and amulet - a protective gift from her family, when her mobile phone rang with the reminder text.Eleanor blinked and pulled her phone from the desk beside the bed. Reading over the reminder for her meeting with someone, “That’s right... We have a guest coming over.” She said to no one, standing up with a small frown. Her eyes looked at her watch on the wall, quickly pacing toward the front of the room and opening the door. Her foot kicked something in front so anyone needing to would come inside - As much as she hated the thought of meeting someone that morning.She had to like it or not. Good thing she had that reminder or this could have been an entertaining meeting. Eleanor settled at the counter for a while as she waited, her eyes checking the time on her watch on her wrist.

Vulcan

04/09/2021 01:48 PM 

Emergence of Talents Part 2

Adorned in regalia patterned robe. The black stitching emphasized the red decal of house Summers a rather new symbol in history for the Shi’ar. Empress Lilandra, Prince Gabriel, and Captain Kallark (Gladiator) were rarely seen together out in the open at the same time these days. With the sickness running rampant through the colonies. Rumors were swirling about Gabriel finally seeking mental help but went off world to do it. The former tyrant had worked on his mental state and it was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, even more so than the various wars he’s been in.            The sun was blocked out by heavy clouds making the purple skies of Chandilar have an ominous look. “Gabriel, I know that you can do this. Everyone has put their faith in you before and we are counting on you to be there for us again. Medics and scientists are doing all they can to contain and treat this foreign threat.” Spoken in a soft tone as the three came to a halt. “The Imperial guard is here to make sure nothing disturbs you, so focus on the task at hand and we will guard you.”            “To be clear this is a curse, and it turns out that this is my fault. So, it is only natural that I at least attempt to fix this.” Gabriel said as he knew that this affliction came from the Fault. The rip in space that was created after his battle with Black Bolt… The rip that leads him to the Cancerverse. It was something that he was still tight lipped about not even his brothers knew of what he experienced in his time while others thought he had perished. In reality if it had been literally anyone else, they surely would have died.            Gladiator keeping watch as patrols were further out. He turned only when Gabriel removed his robe. “I’m ready.” He said as Gladiator pulled out a box opening it up to reveal a shard of the M’Kraan. The pink diamond cut gem levitated out of the box in front of Gabriel. Reaching for his tech spear which was on the left side of his hips he’d extend the weapon out for the gem to embed itself onto the top opening. Once secured Gabriel spun the staff around in his right hand before shoving the blunt end into the ground. He himself opened up his arms and lifted off of the ground. A deep gold energy mixed with red, and pink began to emit from him.  Had he been destroying the planet the deed would have been done already but that wasn’t the goal there was an infestation of some sort. Originally believed to be a virus was actually a parasitic organism.            “I’ve got it.” He said fine tuning his energy level. Waves of color sweeping the land in a 360-degree radius from around Gabriel. Eyes shut tightly as now he had to focus on keeping the energy output constant because if he messed up, he would either incinerate or fatally electrocute the very people he was trying to save. Finally reaching the first town the waves passed over the ill who started off feeling immense pain as the parasite was purged from their systems. Those not infected saw the waves but considering who it was from some felt nervous that was until the wave hit them.Next Up: Brood Revealed! 

velvet underground.

04/08/2021 11:52 PM 

i'll be with you one day [cs]

march 11th, 2003; while recording the documentary "destiny rules" which showcasedfleetwood mac [minus christine mcvie] working on their first studio album since 1987's'tango in the night' entitled 'say you will', lindsey buckingham and stevie nicks wererecorded working on and recording a song that stevie had written in the 1970s entitled'goodbye baby'in a deleted scene from the documentary, the producers asked nicks while she finallydecided to release the song, as well as what was the importance of only having buckingham onthe song instead of the rest of the band. "the song when i had originally written it had a differentmeaning to me than it does now, and it's something that women who have been through the same situationsknow that they aren't alone. as far as having lindsey being the only person on the song, as wellas him being the only one in the studio when i was recording it? it needed to be that way,for both of us to release some of the hurt and grief -- it needed to be us two and just ustwo. people have guessed what the song has been about over the years, and i've neverconfirmed or denied anyone's thought process on the song, just know it's probablythe hardest song i've ever had to record, and I'm sure lindsey feels the same way.

"great warrior"

04/08/2021 11:38 PM 

Mir Veln Zey Iberlebn

“I can’t believe your mine.” Erik said, happier than he ever thought possible, scooping his son from his crib along with his soft charcoal baby blanket, with all the care he could conceivably give; careful not to wake him. Gilding over to the freshly painted rocking chair, which overlooked French doors letting in the moonlight shining over Genosha. Still from outside, he could hear the fizzy crackles of sparklers and popping of firecrackers; the drunken songs from friends, who were a little tipsier for wears, but looking out for one another; the freshly cut petals being tossed by little children on to the street; in the distance the crashing of foamy dark waves against Genosha’s shores. No…he wanted to spend time with his son. Something were more important than giving speeches to his people. He just never imagined that he could ever be happy and at peace for this long of period in his life. It was one tragedy after the other, and the personal suffering he went through afterwards. The Shoah, Shaw; the death of his mother; his own subsequent experimentation by Shaw; the gas chambers that took the rest of his family and friends; the fire that devoured Anya; his imprisonment inside the Pentagon with the solidarity confinement that followed, nearly drove him to his breaking point of his mind; the arrow that pierced through Nina. He never wanted a life filled with revenge and death. It was never his attention in life to become a leader for the Liberation of Mutantkind. For it seemed like a lifetime ago that he was a young lad in Düsseldorf trying everything he could to gain the attention of Magda, who’s beauty captivated him. But that world was forever lost. By the violence against them by the blood, now his own son carried through him; with him the entire history of cultural memory of his people: the collective trauma, Haskalah, Exodus, and the continuing struggle not be erased. Along with the newly found prejudice against a new species on Earth, Mutants. Humanity always destroys what it doesn’t understand. But all that vanish as he cradled his son and sank down into the chair; got himself comfortable, shifting his weight to find a comfortable position. The metalbender cushioned his son against his chest and supported him with his forearms, before beginning to rock. Hearing the slow beats of Erik’s heart and the rise and fall of his chest: Pietro didn’t even wake up from his deep slumber. With his distinctive stardust gray hair, it shouted to the world that he was indeed a mutant. Erik kissed his child forehead. Pietro lumpingly swatted, annoyed at the itchiness of his father face, bristled with auburn red hair. The two continued to rock until time didn’t seem to matter anymore. Until fireworks busted into the sky, jolting Pietro awake. “I’m sorry, my sohn, but did the fireworks wake you?” Pietro really could not answer him back. He clenched his father’s black long sleeve shirt with his little knuckles until they turned white with fright and buried himself deeper into his chest with his tiny body shivering; about ready to burst into tears. Sensing this, Erik stop rocking and sat back up cradling Pietro in hand. With his powers, Erik went through the motions of opening the and folding the French doors in his mind to get outside and onto the small balcony. Fireworks shot up; some were like glowing embers in the sky before descending downward like a waterfall; like others were like a thousand strobing pulsing stars of blues and whites; and more became like serpents spinning and glinting off gold and silver; even more willowed out and gave sparkling delicate trails of shimmering light; another firework shot up and raptured into a ball of stars within another ball of stars like a peony; comets fluttered into dozens; bright balls of color threw themselves into the air before burning out at their max height; comet tails streaking across the dark sky; all the while the metallic smell of sulfur and charcoal permeated, pluming over the surrounding area to underscore the festivities.   “See there is nothing to be afraid of.” Bouncing Pietro, a little to get him to pay attention to the sky, “Though they can be quite loud.” Erik spoke in the gentlest voice. Pietro looked toward the heavens with all the wonder that twinkled in his fathomless dark eyes, not cold and dark and inky, but warm and benignant, yet so dearly kind; just like his mother’s. “Let’s get you back inside before you catch something.” Erik mumbled under his breath, “Chas V’chalila!” He couldn’t even bare the thought of losing another child. Pietro perhaps sensing his own father’s pain snuggled up closer to his father chest as the two glided back over to the rocking chair and sat back down again. Erik flashed a smile, as he took his son’s tiny knuckle and began stroking it with his larger thumb, “I did all of this because of you.” Pietro tilted his head like a burrowing owl, trying to process what he had to say. “So that you can live in a world, where you can fully explore your abilities. And not for bemusement of humans, who would have us suppress them for their systems of oppression. And then for us to then internalize that hatred within ourselves.” Erik called over the two metal mythical beasts figurines from their menagerie on the side table: The Leviathan and the Ziz. Erik sculpted the two with his power, just one use of his powers that didn’t involve killing, with the skill and mastery of any Ironmaster or Metallurgists; that would put them to shame. It was Genosha’s very own Damascus steel; with its own characteristics. The metal sung to him as the Ziz, a great phoenix that was able to blot out the sun with its wing span, glided and flapped its intricate wing lined with minute feathers and the Leviathan slithered through the ocean of air to come closer to his child. Pietro squealed with glee and tried to capture them with his uncoordinated hands as the two figurines danced around them, following Erik’s eye movements. “Genosha was built on blood of the fallen, who gave their lives, so that we could have this: Emma, Azazel, Angel, Banshee. All mutant brothers and sisters, who sacrificed themselves, so we could have a home: free of the prejudice of humankind.” The two mythical beasts stilled and became motionless in the air like a musical box reaching its last note. Erik placed them back on the side table. Pietro wondered, why his father would take away the fun objects in the air from him. “I hope you will a life, much differently from my own.” Situating Pietro on his chest, so he could look directly at him, “I do not want you to suffer as I suffer and not live through the horrors that I have.” Shaking his head lightly, “Mir Veln Zey Iberlebn, my sohn.” Erik said, before peering down for the briefest of moments at the numbers on his forearm: 214782. The pain was still there. Even, while holding his son. “We will outlive them.” Erik went on to explain: “I have outlived Sebastian Shaw, Bolivar Trask, the Sentinel Program, En Sabah Nur, and the humans, who helped and collaborated with them for personal gain and those just following orders.” Pietro gave a nice big hug with his tiny body as he possible could. Erik began rubbing Pietro’s back as he continued speaking to his son, “We won’t accommodate such men here, Pietro. We will defeat them, and emancipate and liberate our kind, who have been enslaved. We will outlive their hatred and fear of us.” The metalbender gave a slight pause, “Will show our them a better way, a better path for the future of mutant and mankind.” Erik brought Pietro back up to his heart, “I hope Genosha will provide you with so much than I had, so you can fully embrace your powers without fear and be surrounded by those who love you.” Before kissing him on his soft forehead, “And I cannot tell you how much, I love you.” Erik glanced up at the clock, it was already nine and it was getting late for Pietro. If he stayed up any later, than Pietro would not happy tomorrow morning and be upset all day; fully test his lung capacity. Erik got up for the last time from the rocking chair, that swung back as he sat up. He fully supported Pietro’s fragile head in the nook of his vascular forearm and with his other arm braced his lower back; cradling his vulnerable sliver haired son. He walked back over to the crib. “And I will tell you this every single day.” Pietro rubbed his face trying to get the sleepies out of his eyes. Erik gave a deep breath and letting Pietro feel the rise and fall of his chest and the thundering of his heart one more time, before setting Pietro down in his crib, unwrapping from his swaddling baby blanket, “You are never alone. I promise you Pietro, that you’ll never be alone.” Pietro pulled the bunny close to his chest, snuggling with the stuffed animal. Erik watched as Pietro wrestled with himself, twisting and fidgeting to get comfortable on his back; before tucking his blanket around him. Pietro squealed and gave him a gummy smile. Erik reciprocated with a toothy shark-like smile, extended over his hand to reach the pacifier on the side table, and brought it down to his lips. Letting Pietro suck on the pacifier and his little warm nightfall eyes glistened. It reminded him of fire reflecting in dark water. But his fatherly instinct told him Pietro was not ready to go to asleep. The Sandmännchen had yet to arrive to Genosha. So, Erik began to sing song that his parents taught to him, when he was child, before they were taken away: They were in his heart. hopefully Pietro will pass on to his children and to their children. But they were still watching over him and his son. Pietro’s eyes slowly fell fluttered down like a kolibri’s wings. There was an old Yiddish proverb: Life is with people. He was with his people. He would lead them. לעולם לא עוד. Nie Wieder. Nigdy Więcej. Never Again. It was a prayer, a promise, a vow. To keep his people safe…and his child.  

Immortal Angel

04/08/2021 11:41 PM 

Failure is not Weakness

Music filled the small bedroom, the thumping beat vibrating the walls. Curtains were drawn shut in an attempt to block out the sunlight. The door was locked, in order to keep people out. The bedroom light was off, casting more darkness around the room. The bed sat empty against one wall, its usual occupant had made other arrangements for the time being. On the floor, in the narrow space between the bed and the wall, lay a young woman. Golden locks brushed her cheeks as she turned her head from the wall to face the ceiling. A long, soft breath fell from her lips, not that she'd be able to hear it over the music. The thundering noise coming from her radio had been an attempt to keep the memories at bay, but it had failed. The teen turned on her side to face the wall once more, clutching her pillow tight as the memories sat in. Beatings at the hands of a general; a whip slicing down her back, leaving deep, bloody red marks in its place. Ropes binding her wrists behind her back, leaving her with only her feet to defend herself with as three people proceeded to attack, one after the other. Being locked in a windowless cell with no food or water for weeks at a time. All of it as punishment for one, simple reason: she had failed her mission. Using her sleeve, the young woman wiped her face clean of the tears that had begun to silently fall, her green hues focused on the wall in front of her. She hadn't heard the door opening, but did notice when the music was cut off. "I know you're in here." She flinched at the voice, but remained where she was. There were no steps, but she knew the person had moved closer. The teen remained motionless, the hand under her pillow wrapping around her Chakram. She wasn't sure what would happen, but she would not be punished again. The sound of the bed creaking told her that the woman had taken a seat and was either waiting in silence, or watching her in silence. The hand on top of the pillow shifted closer to the young woman's chest, her knees curling up more towards her chest as she attempted to hide her face. She heard a soft breath and felt her pulse racing, it was a displeased sigh. "Things didn't go according to plan, huh?" Her throat tightened as she got still again, her hidden eyes narrowing as she continued to face the wall. The room grew silent for several minutes, the tension growing thicker with each second until she swore she was going to be sick. "That's no reason to hide in here. I bet you're starving. Come on, let's go get some food." This caught the teen off guard. In a second, she was facing the bed and propped up on her elbows, eyeing the woman carefully, her hand now gripping her Chakram even tighter. "How could you think that I'd possibly want to eat at a time like this?! I failed!" The teen jumped to her feet quickly, not even bothering to hide the pain in her eyes, or the fear in her tone. "I failed...don't you get it? I failed the mission!" The older woman stood as well, now facing the younger one. There was no trace of malice, hatred, or threat in her face...something the teen was not used to seeing. "So what? We all fail from time to time. You just have to train harder. Then, on the next one, you'll be ready." The blonde stared in shock at the redhead, her weapon slowly sliding from her hand until it fell to the ground. Stella dropped onto her bed and let her face fall into her hands, unable to stop the cries that fell from her lips. She felt the former assassin sit beside her and felt the comforting hand rest against her back. No one understood what the teen was going through more than she did. She would ask more later, but for now the newest member of the team needed to know that it was okay to fail. "Our failures don't make us weak," she started in a gentle tone, "they just show us what we need to work on, so that we can become stronger." She gave the girl a gentle pat and stood, moving towards the door. "You might want to hurry. The steaks just came off the pit and I'm not sure how long I can keep Clint from eating yours." Stella glanced up to see the smile and couldn't help but return it with one of her own. Drying her eyes, the teen stood up and smoothed her hair back into place before she followed Nat down to the dining area. She had no idea how different being one of them would be to being a member of Hydra...at least not in the beginning. Now she knew. Nat was right... Failure was just a reason to try harder. She would not fail them again. 




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