finding a new passion, staring out the passenger's window of the car, tangled curls, seeing your reflection, folk songs
sarcasm, brain freeze, tongue teasers, paradoxical logic, riddles, winning at a game you've never played, watching scary movies under the blanket, waking up at 3am with no explanation
Build a crazy city of us, Map out our adventures In strange alleys and weird Curlicues. Persian us. Medieval Our desires. Spires and minarets, Walls of old stone, pavements Lone and level, towers strangely Angled at the sun. We have Begun to plan our achievements In brick and wood and archway. Oh the bridge across the river Makes the city musical and real. Sketch out our lines, now. We Are the Latin quarter. We are Bohemian. Plot us and our future. Reach up and reach beyond where You find me. Sky our limits homewards. We make the space a question Answered eachly like a dream.
ive only been to the algarve so thats what i talk about: it is now beginning of spring, there is lots of heavy rain but also moments of clear blue sky and sun, there is clover everywhere you look, all the flowers are now opening up and they are beautiful, theres a lot of cacti and palms and eucalyptus trees. it smells like sand mud ground and different flower scents. the supermarkets have a huuge amount of vegetables and fruits that look Real not fake like in holland, with many different shapes and colours. the people have dirty cars because of sandy roads! theres many english, scandinavian and dutch people here following the sun, they built a house here and have a wish to live a relaxed good life away from the busy cities they come from. people eat a lot of animals here, there are many portugeese farmers i can see their pigs and their vegetables in the garden, on saturday they sell their treasures on the farmers market. the cities have shiny white stones on the pavement, theres a lot of yellow, dark green, white and broken walls. a lot of people have a dog. in the cafes its not weird to start conversations with strangers and a cup of coffee is only 60 cents
theres way more to talk about but the water is boiling and i need to go!
Her heels clacked against the stone pavement. The moon hung overhead giving a dim glow to the town below. She let out a breath and watched as the air fogged up in front of her and a sigh escaped as she wrapped her arms around herself.
The girl was by herself this time around, no men followed her home from the pub, none demanding that she give them what they were owed. Tonight was a night where she kept to herself, and it seemed to have been that way for a few weeks now. Ever since her and the green eyed demon kissed. Of course she didn’t let him know that he was on her mind, she kept herself cool and collected. Not allowing him the chance to see behind her mask.
She scanned the area, keeping an eye out for any sudden movements. It was always like this, the constant need to look over one’s shoulder, to always keep an eye out for someone who was angry with her. This wasn’t the kind of life she wanted, but it was the kind of life she had to live.
The games she plays, the way she messes with people’s minds, they were all a way for her to steal without them noticing. She refused to sell her body, but she knew how to use it to obtain what she wanted. Her reputation around town had every man pining after her, seeing if they would be the ones to finally catch the troublemaker. All have failed, and she knew every single one would. Except maybe the green eyed boy always on her mind.
She shook her head, breaking away from her thoughts. She looked ahead and saw her tiny home in the distance, no lights on and no movement inside. The sight reminding her that she truly was alone.
When she made her way to her door she found it open. She stopped, completely frozen at the sight of it. Terror filled her at who could possibly be in there, but the list was too long to figure out who. She reached into her purse and found the dagger she always kept hidden and slowly made her way inside, careful to keep her steps silent.
Once she made it past the doorway she scanned the small space, checking to see if she could spot the shadow of a person. In that moment she felt somebody grab onto her arm, and she quickly reacted, grabbing onto their forearm and twisting it off of her before shoving them into the wall. She held the knife to their throat and waited for her eyes to adjust. “Who knew the troublemaker had such fire.” Her mouth almost opened in shock at the sound of the voice. Finally she could see the green eyes piercing into her Y/E/C ones. “Do you know how difficult it was to find your house, Y/N?”
She pulled away from him and made her way into the house. She found the candle on her small table and light it up. She glared at the boy, “There’s a reason for that.” He simply laughed at her, but before he could reply she asked, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Pan only shrugged at her, “I thought I should come and visit the girl who always seems to play with everybody she meets. It was only fair.”
She looked at him in disbelief, “It’s not fair for you to enter my home-”
“Home?” He asked cutting her off, “This hardly seems like a home to me.”
She simply crossed her arms, “What do you mean by that?” But she knew what he meant. Her tiny house was simply a place for her to sleep, and that was evident by the bed in the corner and the table with the candle sitting next to it. The only other thing the tiny place had was a kitchen on the other side, but even that was rarely used. There were no personal touches to the place, no pictures of her family. It was clear that it was just a house, not a home.
He simply raised an eyebrow, “Oh Y/N, you know exactly what I mean.” He walked around the small space, observing everything around him. Finally he stopped in the center, turning to face her his green eyes were filled with questions, “You seem fairly young, too young to be on your own.” Her body stiffen as she knew what questions were coming, the questions always asked, the questions she never answered. “Where’s your family?”
Her eyes darkened as she growled out, “None of your business, Peter Pan. Now do me a favor and get out of my house.”
Her response only caused a smirk to appear on his face, “So you don’t have one anymore?” He stalked towards her, causing her to back up with every step he took, until eventually he backed her into a wall. He placed his hands next to her head and he leaned down as he whispered out, “What happened to your family, Y/N?” Her heart was beating fast, she felt like an animal caged in with nowhere to go.
She placed her hands on his chest trying to push him away, but to no avail. Panic filled her as she tried to find a way out, “It’s none of your business. It will never be your business. Now get out and never bother me again!”
The boy only pressed himself against her, trapping her between his body and the wall. He grabbed a hold of her chin and turned it so she was staring into his eyes. Finally he saw it, in that moment he saw how lost and truly broken this girl was. “Y/N, what if I told you there was a place you could escape to, somewhere where you could leave all of this behind.”
She stopped struggling, her mind reeling at the possibility, “How do I know that you aren’t tricking me? That you aren’t lying to me?”
Pan only smirked, “I may be a liar, but I’m not lying about this. Come with me to Neverland, and you will never have to grow up, and you will find a family there.”
Out of habit she bit out, “I don’t need anybody. I will never need a person again.”
He shook his head, pulling away he made his way to the door. “Fine, stay here and live you life out all alone. You’ll never have to see me again”
He continued to walk out, but he stopped when he heard her yell out to him. A smirk made its way to his face as he heard her running after him. He turned around and observed as she stood in front him, for the first time unsure about her movements. A quirk of his eyebrow and she rubbed her arms, “Is there really such a place?”
He nodded his head, “You’ll never grow old, and every day will be an adventure.” He walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, “Come with me and I’ll make you my queen. Together we will rule over Neverland.”
Her Y/E/C eyes stared into his, and finally she felt herself let go. She captured his lips with hers before pulling back, “Take me there.”
Peter smiled as he gripped onto her, before flying off to the land of the lost. Peter Pan had captured the troublemaker, and he was finally bringing her back to Neverland.
Note: I wasn’t really sure what to do as a Part 2 for this one, but I hoped you enjoyed it none the less!
Splatters of crimson spills to the stone pavement as the severely wounded man coughs up blood. He didn’t have the will to fight any longer and accepted his crushing defeat to the wanted man - Black Leg Sanji. It was foolish of the man to have made an enemy out of Sanji and abducted his most beloved treasure, let alone cause harm to your once perfectly smooth skin. This angered Sanji beyond imaginable when he caught sight of your mistreated state. The discoloration of your cheeks due to inflicted abuse and thick blood trickling down the cuts on your arms and chest. He lost all control of himself in that instance.
With the most gentle touch, Sanji carefully lifts your broken body and carries you back to the Thousand Sunny to have Chopper tend to your injuries. There was a moment where your hazy eyes looked upon your lover and heard the sound of faint words leave his lips meant for the man beaten half to death ring in your ears before losing consciousness altogether.
“Don’t underestimate what a person can do to protect those they care about.”
lucius was minding his own business, carelessly walking around and kicking a few stones around the pavement as a smaller boy ran into him. it wasn’t on purpose as he could see the pure terror in the boy’s face once he had met the blonde man’s eyes. the slytherin knew that he was feared by many, it was a blessing and a curse but he didn’t want to terrorise this little kid. “run along, wimp.” he mumbled under his breath, almost pushing him away as he turned on his feet and froze once there was another figure in front of him; out of surprise really. “—what do you want??”
Your shadow laid over the paintings, your body a sculpture. Wake up.
You are going to miss it. This is the part where we raise Rome from the
Tonight we are building an empire.
I keep running into all the people I used to be. They keep asking me
to dinner. I want more instrumentals, more wordless reaching. I want
more reservations for the sinners. Tonight we are building an empire on
the backs of all the people we used to be. Tonight we are breaking bread
Tonight we are building an empire.
The stone in the center of your name, in your throat, in the pit of
your stomach. The stone at the end of your ankle chain. The stone in
your hands, the stone in the air, the stone bloodied and left on the
pavement. The stone called desire, the stone called hunger, the stone at
the foot of the mountain, at the summit, the stone pushed over the
The brave ones always do this, you say, the brave ones always push the stone.
Tonight we are building an empire.
One stone on top of another. Rearrange the stones and you can make
anything you like. An altar, a citadel, a wall. We are all buried in stones. We
are all bringing something to the altars. We are all walking towards our
Tonight we are building an empire.
Do you have anything to say for yourself?Me neither. This is
not justification. This is not looking back. Tonight we are breaking out
of our museums. Tonight we are smashing our sculptures. Come closer. Accede ad ignem. Everything burns. Everything is reborn. Let me kiss your ashes. Let me hold what’s left of your hands.
Tonight we are building an empire.
This is the part where the curtain lifts. We are all built from
ruins. We are all starting again. My sanctuary, my holy water, my three
days in the dark. This is the part where you swallow the light whole.
were perched upon living stilts which keep on growing, reaching the height of
church-towers, until walking becomes difficult and dangerous…]*
A man laid on
the stone pavement. His body hidden behind a corner of a ruin. The tropic
sunrays were strong; through his western clothes, he could feel the burning heat.
However, this helplessness like he had already given up to the heat and the
cold, hadn’t subsided during his wander overseas. The smell of heated weeds and
stones filled up his nostrils, the man breathed in deeply.
hilltop, religious ruins built of flat big heaped up stones. A half destroyed column
caught in many battles and a statue exposed their pitiful figure like a cheese
chewed by rats. Fine friezes of a sculptural relief on a wall had been spared
but the original shape, mostly pierced by many bullet holes, hadn’t been preserved.
there, red hibiscus flowers bloomed from cracks in the stone pavement. Pale red
petals, like they had grown sucking blood, were swaying in the wind.
The name of
the man laid down was Kougami Shinya.
who had killed a man and fled from Japan.
killed a man?
had told him so, that’s how Kougami would have argued.
I have only fulfilled my duty. A
detective’s job is not to judge people. And yet, what if an evil that can’t be
judged by the law exists? A detective’s job isn’t also deal with evil to make
up for the law’s flaws?
deemed, and brought things to conclusion pulling the trigger.
overseas, he had reforged himself and now, Kougami was in SEAUn. With the world
entered in an era of chaos, even if some nations had tried to get away with a
reorganization, finally they were a mosaic of failed dictatorships and
civil wars. In this country, Kougami had been taking part to the guerilla battles of
the democratization movement as a military adviser.
The man standing next
to Kougami was Sem, the leader of guerrilla.
asked about his past but, from the traces of wounds and his custom to the fights,
Kougami conjectured if afterall he wasn’t an ex-military.
On the top of
the small hill, behind the stone ruins, Kougami and Sem had prepared a spot to
watch and wait for a chance to shoot.
Taking in Sem’s words, Kougami took a look into the distance.
governative troops were coming.
A long civil war had been raging in the Southeast Asia Union. But
the situation had a deep change. Chuan Han, who had been no more than a leader
of a military cast, joined forces with Japanese Government, the Sybil System. The
measure of the crime coefficients… the edification of the maritime special ward
Shambala Float, that he’d been entrusted to administrate from Japan.
Caught between the opposition force and the nations,
in a short time Chuan Han had completed all the arrangements. And then, a unit
of drones provided by the Japanese government began the massacre under the pretext of maintaining public order.
At that time, Kougami Shinya had already taken part to
the guerrilla fight and was trying to overthrow Chuan Han’s strong-arm methods.
….Chuan Han is a dictator. Existence is utterly incompatible with the
japanese government way, in other words the Sybil System. The governmental
forces will collapse from the inside….that was Kougami and Sem’s prediction.
However, that didn’t happen. Shambala float was going
well in trial operations, and if one had said say that chairman Han was compliant to
Japanese government, he would have described well Sian government situation.
Then, the anti governative troops were being killed like
A column of governative troops was passing through the
country road. Military vehicles for troops transport, an armored car used by
the commander, and a Ganesh….a tank made in Japan with many robotic arms. An
entire armored squadron. If they had let them go, in the guerrilla camp it would have been
That’s why they had to settle it there.
Carrying an assault rifle on his shoulder, Sem set
up the spotting scope. That scope had a laser apparatus for distance
measurement and an anemometer. An anti-material rifle was standing on its legs in
front of Kougami. Ready to fire in a prone stance, Kougami introduced a sharp huge
bullet in the open fire chamber.
When Kougami looked into the scope, computer graphics
and a variety of informations were displayed. The image of a shooting
correction device synchronized with the laser apparatus for distance
measurement. A cursor was floating on the position of the estimated projectile
The column of governative troops vehicles was
approaching the scope centre.
The distance was 600 meters.
“The wind direction’s changed”, sharply said Sem.
This time he was Kougami’s spotter.
The spotter had the role of sniper’s assistant.
In case of carrying out long range shots with a big
rifle, using a scope, the scale factor necessarily increased but this lead
to a narrow field of vision. The spotter followed that.
He assisted with the trajectory computation and observed
Since the screen shook in the moment the rifle fires,
the great advantage was having someone other than the main marksman to observe
“The wind has started blowing from 3 o’clock direction.
Just a few minutes ago it was the opposite”
“Even if the wind is changing, it doesn’t reflect in
the shooting correction device….." Kougami
said in a low voice.
"Am I wrong?" Sem said.
"No, you’re not. It’s the shooting device who’s
“Damn it. Anyway it’s an equipment of so many decades
“Let’s fix it”
Kougami turned off the shooting correction device. The
computer graphics disappeared from the scope and the usual reticle switched to a
On the portable terminal on his wrist, a hologram was
displayed. It was the trajectory computing graphic of the anti-material rifle
Kougami was using.
Peering into that graphic, Sem said.
“5 clicks to the right”
Said so, Kougami with careful hands clicked on
the windage* knob on the side of the scope.
“Can I go?”
“I’ve already added the spin drift to the wind
force….] said Sem.
” The angle also is such that has not much influence on the
impact. No problem!“
Kougami placed his fingers on the trigger.
Thanks to the shooting practice gained, he aimed without
even a closed eye. Only real snipers aimed with both eyes open.
Aiming to the troop-transport vehicle at the head of
the column, he shot.
Blowing a tire, he stopped the movement.
"Hit” Sem confirmed the impact.
…..and now the next one.
Breaking the front axle, he prevented the forward movement
of the column.
As next target, he aimed at the end of the column. The second
shoot went to the tire of the armored car.
By doing so, he had blocked the road in front and
behind and now, he was free to aim to the favorite target.
This time the favorite target was—–napalm
ammunitions prepared for the roads of this country zone.
Fire bombs in which a thickener was added to a high performance
Kougami charged an incendiary oil bomb into the anti-material
rifle and launched it.
It raised a great explosion. Also the antitank mines laid
around detonated, creating a chain. Beautiful fireworks bloomed from the ground.
Flames dancing together with a bursting of destructive
“Let’s change place” said Sem.
With a temperature over 1000°C, napalm ammunitions kept burning for about 10 minutes. In what kind of tanks with robotics arm
there weren’t internal precision equipments. Behind a curtain of black smoke and
flames, with a twitch, the Ganesh silhouette crumbled falling in pieces.
NOTES TO TRANSLATION:
*This first sentence is taken from the book “Time
regained” by Marcel Proust. Proust style is rather complex and elaborated, so I
didn’t translate it by myself. I searched for an official English version.
*Mil-dot or mil dot reticle: a mean of determining
distances to targets, establishing leads for moving targets, and for alternate
aiming points for windage and elevation holds
*Windage: The point or degree at which the wind gauge
or sight of a rifle or gun must be set to compensate for the effect of the wind.
is something of a surprise to Fenris. After the green expanse of the
Hinterlands and the rainy wilds of the Brecilian Forest, it’s strange
to see an actual city in Ferelden.
here it is, a city much like any other, worn stone pavements
underfoot, thatch on roofs overhead, and people, people
interesting to hear the accents and the languages around him as they
walk through the streets; he hears a snatch of Antivan - asking about
poisons, predictably - and of Neverran, which Fenris knows barely
anything of, though from the man’s voice, he’s clearly displeased
interesting, though, is being near so many Fereldans. There were
plenty in Kirkwall, but here they’re completely surrounded by people
who sound like Hawke. Not as good
as him, Fenris thinks. No one’s voice will ever make him feel
fluttering butterflies the way Hawke’s does, and no one, Hawke
included, will ever know about that. Still though; it’s curious to
hear the softer rural accents and the crisper city ones, to hear
hints of Hawke’s voice in the words of a stranger.
they pass the Chantry, the grey skies make good on their threat and
it starts to rain, hard and cold.
who has been teasing Fenris about his dislike of Fereldan weather,
sighs himself now and after glaring at the sky, takes Fenris’s
go in that shop,” he says, pointing to a blue-painted door
across the street. “Get out of the rain.”
shop is a book store, warm and smelling slightly musty. There are a
few others here, sifting through the books, of which there are
plenty. Fenris reaches for his money purse,
running his fingers over the coin. They need to be careful with
money, he knows, but he wants to read something new. They only have
two books between them, the spines sad and cracked from rereading.
around at the shelves upon shelves of books, he’s struck by longing
to be in Hawke’s estate, lounging on the sofa in front of the fire
with his head in Hawke’s lap and a book in his hands. He misses
Hawke’s library. He misses Hawke’s estate, his own mansion. He misses
Kirkwall. Not that he’d go back there, not without Hawke but still.
He misses it, and it surprises him.
one day, he thinks, and then pushes the thought aside.
can’t go to Kirkwall but he can buy a book, as long as it’s
Hawke goes to ask the proprietor where the nearest inn is so that
they can have an actual bed for once, Fenris wanders around the
store. It’s haphazardly organised. Books about farming techniques are
placed next to a propaganda pamphlet about the Qun, which is next to
a book literally titled Bodice
a sale sign near the back of the store so Fenris goes towards it;
since he’s not precious when it comes to genre or even quality, he
hopes he’ll find something there.
even more disorganised than the rest of the store, half the books not
even in piles, and some of them missing covers or even most of their
he looks through them, his hopes of finding something worth reading
start to fade. Most of them are out-dated histories of Ferelden, or
biographies of people who, a flick through the books tell him, had
the most uninteresting lives anyone has ever had.
something catches his eye.
newer than the others, printed on cheap paper. It has a bright cover,
even face down as it is, but the colours aren’t what caught his eye.
It’s the author: Varric Tethras.
picks it up. He thought he’d read all of Varric’s books, and he’s
even - very secretly - a fan. But he’s never seen this one
he reads the title, dismay starts to creep over him.
course he would, as evidenced by all those parts of the Tale
of the Champion
that Fenris got very, very angry at Hawke for telling Varric
evidence: the white-haired elf on the cover, in an embrace with a
handsome, bearded human in armour.
by his side in a moment. “Are you alright?”
holds up the book. “Did you know about this?”
blinks slowly, and takes it from his hands. “No. No, I didn’t.”
He flicks through it and laughs loudly. “Maker’s Breath,
Varric,” he says, and starts to read, “‘The lithe elf’s
eyes are wide as the Champion approaches, the hulking size and bulk
of the man making the elf quiver-’”
winces. It’s even worse than he thought. “Stop.
Stop right there, Hawke. I do not quiver.”
you do, Fenris.” Hawke grins a very specific type of grin that
makes Fenris’s mouth dry, then steps a little closer to slide a hand
down to Fenris’s ass. “I found out where the inn is. What do you
say to going there right now so that I can prove it to you?”
gives a strangled noise as Hawke squeezes.
take that as a yes. Let me just buy this book
We have to support our friends, Fenris.”
his arms, Fenris gives in. There’s one good thing about the book, and
that’s its size, large and weighty. “Only
if I get to throw the bloody thing at him next time we see