• LOST CATS, the flyers proclaim. The text is accompanied by hand drawn pictures of animals with open, gaping mouths. The flyers are thumbtacked to telephone poles in dense layers. They are clogging the storm strains. They are tangled in the rose bushes. The flyers keep appearing, but the cats do not return.
• Your neighbor’s chickens whisper in the night. You press your ear against the coop only once, but do not recognize the name of the spirit they are praying to. The next morning, your neighbor brings you eggs in a woven basket. You break them in the sink and flush their yolks down the drain.
• No one speaks about the lights over Mt. Hood, so neither do you.
• The streets are paved with volcanic rock. It reflects the streetlamps and the flickering pink marquee of a theater that plays only earthquake preparedness reels. When the road closes for repairs, you peer above the barricades and see the rocks are much larger than you’d imagined. Some are curved and dented, exactly like the top half of a skull.
• The dark-haired girl who runs the thrift shop does not seem bothered by dresses that arrive with ghosts attached. You purchase only one, but the girl hands you a second bag for the wavering, translucent figure that accompanies it.
• In November, you join a silent crowd on the esplanade to watch something large and dark swim upstream through the Willamette. No one speaks until the thing has passed, and the city is safe for another year.
• You became lost in Powell’s last spring, wandering for weeks between travel memoirs and modernist poetry and gluten free cookbooks. In the evenings, you studied a map beneath emergency lights, hands unsteady. It was late summer by the time you stumbled onto Burnside, using your forearm to block the sun. A stranger pat your shoulder knowingly.
• The pink building glows at sunset, when the chanting inside is loudest.
• The wilderness at the edge of the city is always inching closer. You drink a beer and try to ignore crows shouting obscenities through the window. The mounted elk head above the bar watches you angrily whenever it thinks you’re not looking.
You barely recalled falling
asleep but you awoke nestled against Thranduil on his bedroll. Your shift hung
loosely around you and a thin woolen blanket laid across the both of you. The
king was still bare chested beneath and held you to him with an arm around your waist. You admired the serenity of his features as he dozed and slipped out of his grip with reluctance.
It was a beautiful morning in the Hoh Rainforest. We woke up and had oatmeal with peanut butter for breakfast, then we quickly packed up our backpacks to hike out. As we wandered slowly through the forest we heard some noises in the bushes. Alix was the first to notice him. It was what I had been wanting to see for years, a Bull Elk about 50 yards off in the distance. He was partially obstructed by humungous trees but as he pranced away we could see his enormous size. The moment was too precious and I didn’t bother taking out my camera. I was just happy to be here. We waited about five or so minutes to see if he would reappear but he never did. We continued our stroll through the forest admiring the trees, mushrooms, banana slugs and droplets of rain. At this moment we were clueless to the fact that we were surrounded by a herd of Roosevelt elk. They slowly revealed themselves to us as we hiked through the forest. We were ever so quiet, moving in slow motion and rather delicately. If you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings you could easily not see a single elk at least until they were completely blocking the trail. When we finally realized that we were completely surrounded by we were in complete shock. It was just too cool. Leaning just a little to your left or to your right could reveal dozens of elk, that’s how hidden most of them were. We stood there in awe surrounded by babies, youngins and females. Then a massive bull elk lifted his head right in front of us, we were twenty feet away. It took my wife about a minute to even notice him because just one tree blocked her entire view of him. I slowly inched her over until she could clearly see him, then I took a few photos as he checked us out. As he slowly wandered away the elk bugling began. It was magical, a moment in time that I will never want to forget.
In Starbucks once again going over my women in American history notes. It’s actually really interesting, and refreshing to get a different perspective and view on history. It’s a nice relaxing class, and the professor makes it really interesting even without power point. Then I did some biology review because lecture was rather dull. 📖
Once I got home I did some reading and completed some homework. Excited to discuss some social issues tomorrow in my sociology discussion class. I’m loving that class so far. Hope you all had a very nice productive Thursday, so that your Friday’s can be even better! I personally favor Mondays over Thursday’s because it’s so close to the weekend, yet there is still one more day you have to deal with.💯✔️📚
A/N: AU where Thranduil stumbles through a portal, dropping him smack dab in the middle of Central Park. Coulson responds to the scene, immediately calling in his best agent for this type of thing…Darcy Lewis.
For @aoisakai‘s birthday. Because you’re awesome and deserve ALL the nice things! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
“Seriously, Coulson?” Darcy sighed heavily as she stomped through the grass off the walking trail. “Why me?”
“You’re the only agent with experience talking to other realm beings…” He shrugged.
She rolled her eyes. “Who’s this one? Hades? Osirus?”
“No…no…nothing like that. Just…Thranduil, king of the elves…” Coulson said, a playful smile spreading.
Darcy stopped, turned to face him. “Are you kidding me right now? That’s a book character. From the Hobbit. Next thing, you’ll be sending me up North to talk Jon Snow down from the top of a wall.”
Phil reached out to grab her arm. “Just…be careful. He’s riding an elk.”
Shaking her head and continuing on her trek, she grumbled, “Of course he is…”
Stayed in today. I hate to miss class, but I felt like my day would be more efficient and effective if I stayed home and studied all day. But it’s ok, because I’m studying for the class I missed. I have an exam on Tuesday and I am petrified, but I feel better after doing this necessary review and reading. I love this sticky note method! A lot or repetition, which is super important! 📚✔️💯
At least, more so in shambles than how Dr. Richter usually left it. Even
on its good days the lab was never “clean,” but its weird, messy chaos was at
least by Richter’s design—a jumbled mess of equipment and notes that made sense
only to Richter himself. That system had failed in its entirety. What faced
Richter now was an entropic, dizzying spread of everything, everywhere.
The pipets had migrated to every far corner of the lab; his drawers and
shelves had been hastily relabeled and relocated to minimize the walking he’d
need to do to gather equipment. The centrifuge had started shrieking, and
Richter didn’t have the time to waste on diagnostics. He simply hoped it had no
plans of cataclysmic failure anytime soon. The scientist himself was caught in
a frenzy, flitting from one bench to the next in a frantic effort to monitor
his dozen, simultaneous experiments all frothing and bubbling and beeping at
Microscopic analysis, cell
fractionation, spectroscopy readings, column chromatography, in vitro cultures,
magical imbuement—Richter had run out of feathers on his wing
to tick all of them off. He simply juggled them all in his mind as he skirted
between stations. No one experiment was particularly difficult, but they were
the sort best done individually, with undivided attention, and across multiple
trials. That…wasn’t this.
A long, stark stretch of hallway loomed ahead of Richter. He stalked
through it, a rat in a maze, shifting from one experiment to the next. “A fine
mess, a fine mess this is! Rushing experiments, rushing everything, like some
starry-eyed postdoc thinking he’s on track to solve the world’s crises in a
week. Yes, that’s all I am to Asgore. A miracle worker. Miracle workers don’t
have hip problems.”
Richter stopped his hobbling. He slowed his pace, stared ahead to the
lab bench thirty feet straight ahead. On it sat a chromatography column, nearly
dripped dry. He’d all but forgotten about that, another fine mess. He ought to add more buffer. He ought to collect the
fraction samples. He ought to prepare the spectrophotometer to analyze—
The old bird let out a long-held breath. He blinked, and opened his eyes
again with only a portion of the attention that had been burning there before.
His neck twisted, surveying the mess of a lab with a sort of listless
attention. It felt voyeuristic, watching so many things spiral out of control
at once. Richter only shook his head, and focused his attention instead to the
undisturbed examination room on his left. He took a single step toward it,
another. Richter only stopped once the door filled his entire vision, blocking
out the frothing mess of experiments running behind him.
Summary: Afflicted by a terrible curse, Levy is forced to abandon her home and her family in search of a cure; a journey that throws her into something far greater. She finds herself stuck between the world of humans, struggling to pull ahead and evolve, and the world of demons and gods, where she meets a beastly prince with a heart of unwavering loyalty and determination.
Note: The biggest of thank yous to @amaranth121 for helping me tidy this up. But here we go, chapter 2!
The boom of thunder shocked the girl awake, so much so that she found herself coughing on a piece of hay. Levy sputtered for several moments before she pulled the straw from her mouth and tossed it aside. She blinked several times, trying to get her bearings and remember where she was. Brown eyes drifted to her side and she could see the threads of water pouring down over the entrance of the shallow cave.
A tiny getting really harmed at the point they lost their memories and cant remember their giant friend (who saved them) and being scared of them just like when they first met ;-;
(Oh jee I wrote a thing…aaaa)
They’d never meant for this to happen….
Never in a million years expected it could have…
They’d gotten so used to being around each other, grown comfortable about their massive size difference it never crossed their mind that any danger could come of them being together.
But it had.
Tara had been sitting comfortably on her giant friend Elk’s shoulder as she always did, letting him go about his business with her along for the ride.
Normally it was such an easy thing, sitting there on her perch…
But then she’d slipped somehow, fallen before Elk could react.
Time had stopped for both as the horrified giant reached out for her, listening to her shriek stop when she hit his hand much harder than he’d intended.
Elk had watched her head jolt and hit his palm, what should have been a cushioned landing becoming a recipe for a serious head injury.
And then Tara had been still.
She just lay there unconscious for what seemed like hours, even after Elk tucked her into her tiny bed and tended to her woulda she still didn’t wake.
Elk had began to lose hope she ever would.
That’s when the tears had started, tears of remorse for the tiny being he’d come to know so well- she was so much more than a friend!
She was like his sister, like a part of him and he’d rather lose a limb than her.
But when she had awoken a small part of him wished she never had..
Elk had watched over her for as long as she’d lay there and as her tiny eyes blearily opened a great smile had spread across his tear soaked cheeks, a breathless gasp of ‘Tara!’ Escaping him as he slowly reached for the groggy woman.
It was something he’d done time and time again when she’d woken up with a hangover or injury, he’d scoop her up without so much as a word and cuddle her close for the best wake up call ever- but this time he was not met with happiness nor anything close.
Elk was met with screaming.
Tara screamed and screamed, scrambling out of her bed and backing against the far wall with her hands over her head as if fearing attack!
She was sobbing uncontrollably and her tiny body shook like a leaf as she cowered away.
“T-Tara? Tara buddy, what’s wrong!” Elk called, once again reaching a hand out to her.
“Get away from me!” Came the horrified shriek as Tara cowered away from a hand that had only dealt her kindness in the past.
Elk felt an ice cold pain in his heart, his eyes clouding up with tears as soft wails of “no…no, Tara no..” Were the only sound he made.
He could see it in her eyes, she didn’t remember him.
She had no idea who or what he was, just like the first day they’d met- seeing her look at him like he was some sort of monster seemed to hurt so much more this time around, it felt as if someone had gut him alive and left him with only fragments of the memories with her.
He wanted to run when he saw her sobbing face, wanted to escape and hide from her forever when she pleaded for him to spare her- but he couldn’t be so weak.
He had to remember this was still Tara, HIS Tara.
So gently Elk reached out again and managed to brush his finger along Tara’s arm, shushing her softly as he put on a brave face.
The crushing feeling he felt was as strong as the agony of losing a loved one, but he had to be strong…
Steadily he scooped the wailing and pleading woman onto his hand and lifted her to his chest, trying to remember just what he’d done the first time they’d met.
Tara froze now, pressed against the wall of his fingers as if afraid just touching his body would hurt her.
“It’s alright, little buddy. You’re safe.” Elk hushed as great tears that must’ve seemed the size of water balloons fell onto his open palm, splashing against the terrified woman who’d once been his friend.
“M-my names Elk, I’ll look after you….I swear.”
He’d look after her, no matter how long it took for her memory to return- if it ever did.
He’d look after her even if she never stopped thinking he was a monster again.
He had to look after her this time…