Humanity

Empty footfalls down forgotten trails
Trials face by one and all
And yet

We've grown apart, you and I
But the "you" I knew isn't what I recall
The "I" I've become is gone

Humanity wonders why we hate
But hatred is simply a misunderstanding
A fear
THE fear

We keep it hidden inside but
All we want
What we ALL want
Is the very thing pushing us apart

Love is blind but humanity sees too much
We fear the unknown and when other love what we don't
We fear them
We learn to hate them

So please try to understand why I cry at night
Humanity woke up too soon
And our collective dream dies more each day

---

This was inspired by "I of The Storm" by Of Monsters and Men, and a car ride where I stared out the window and into the open windows of the houses we drove past.

Quite suddenly, humanity was made clear. And yet, this clarity frightens me.

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What's in a Name?

Quite a bit, it seems.

This is yet another post for my web design class, but I've gotta say, it turned out pretty snazzy. The site I used to create this can be found here. It's called Type to Design - a typographic challenge hosted on Instagram that allows its participants to explore the possibilities of graphic design. And quite honestly, from what I saw as I was creating my designs, the possibilities of such a creative endeavor are quite literally endless.

The picture located above, "Rose Ritonya" is my preferred online handle. My username, if you will. Basically, it's my pen-name, as I am an aspiring author. I'll get there. Eventually. Maybe after I stop being lazy and learn how to not procrastinate.

Anyhoo, the image found below these rambling chunks of text is my own personal motto. I came up with the phrase myself, and it's basically what's kept me going for the past few years. My art is my life, and my imagination fuels my art. Without my imagination, I would have no hope - because without my imagination, I would have no life. My stories are one of the only things I look forward to, and I've gotten better about that as the years have passed, but this phrase still rings true in my heart of hearts.

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Dewy Eyes and Hummingbird Dreams

Idle dreams and gilded wings
Have never captured my heart

More attractive, I find
Is the sound a soul makes
When it's broken, but sings
Tear-stained eyes and
Trembling lips
The sound of a pen
Screaming for her grasp
Because her voice is too choked up to speak
She writes what she doesn't believe
Of hope and happy endings
Of dewdrops and forgiveness
Of hummingbird wings and
Her starry eyes
They're always far away

And she looks back on yesterday and
She wonders.
Will today be the day when my dreams become real?
Will today be the day when I remember how to feel?

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Memory's Conquest

I've forgotten how to think.

I've remembered how I feel.

I've lost sight of what's right.

I can't dismiss what's real.

I've forgotten my youth,

But remembered my age.

Can't think of a time

When I wasn't caged.

---

The above poem was written quite a while ago, but I thought I might as well post it up here, for those who don't follow me on deviantART. If you're interested, my username is GreyRoseOfHope. Here's a link to my account, if you're not interested in searching for it yourself.

Ah, yes. The title for this post was derived from this random generator site. It's merely part of the requirement for the school portion of my blog.

No, I didn't use this title as an excuse to post this poem. What kind of person do you take me for?

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Tequila and Whiskey

        In a typical pub nestled away in one of the many dark corners that dotted the scene in downtown London, a not-so-typical young woman ordered a drink.

        She felt the hair on the back of her neck rise as several of the single men in the bar stared at her. Her mocha skin, silver hair, and golden eyes assured that this sort of reaction was the norm whenever she went out in public on nights like this. Nights when her thoughts got to be too much, when her twin and the rest of her family couldn’t provide enough of a distraction.

        This was her territory, really. The darker, yet somehow familiar corners of the mortal world. The places where prostitutes, runaways, nomads, and every other Tom, Dick, and Harry on the lighter side of the underworld gathered.

        Oh, and the mob boss sitting up on the second-story balcony. Mm. She’d have to pay him a visit before she headed back to Heaven. In the future, it just might make the guy think twice about hitting the girls he’d taken a liking to.

        At five foot two, she wasn’t the most intimidating of women. Especially since her facial structure made her look more like a pixie than a badass. But then, that’s what she’d had him help her with. He’d taught her, over their sporadic meetings, how to be more intimidating. It was all about the look in her eye, he’d told her. “If you’ve got that gleam in your eye, the one that makes you look just a little bit...off, well... No sane human ‘ll wanna cross you.”

        When she’d asked him how he figured this out, he just smirked and took another swig of his whisky. That was usually the response she’d get when he wasn’t in a sharing mood. Her response to that typically involved a sarcastic comment and her trademark eye-roll.

        She shook her head hard and looked up from the bar’s worn countertop. It only took her snapping her fingers once to get the bartender’s attention. Once the guy saw who it was that was trying to get his attention, he hustled off to get a bottle of “Extra Añejo” tequila. It was expensive, sure, but it was the only thing that woman seemed to drink.

        She’d been here over a dozen times in the past eight months, and she never ordered anything else. Tequila, the kind aged over three years, on the rocks, in a whiskey glass, of all things. Funny how her drinking buddy wasn’t with her. The bartender often jumped to conclusions, so he assumed that the guy must’ve been her boyfriend, and they’d broken up. He’d never figure out how far from the truth he was.

        When the drink was set down in front of her, she immediately reached out and took a sip. Then she set it down on the counter, cupped her hands around the glass, and stared at the swirling liquor. Eight months. It had been eight months since she had last seen him.

        She knew that she should have given up by now. From what she could tell, her...mother and father had thrown in the towel. She hadn’t seen Luke, Coal, or Akan since the day they’d cornered Idan and her in London. They’d demanded to know what Heaven had done with Valoc. The twins just didn’t have an answer for the trio.

        Valoc had disappeared without a trace. Twice now, he’d vanished without any sign of where he’d gone. And despite all that, she’d held out hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d show up at their usual meeting place. It was stupid, getting her hopes up like that, and yet...here she was.

        An hour passed, and the clock hanging above the bar hit 1 a.m. She’d finished her drink by now, and as she’d expected, felt nothing. No buzz, not even the tiniest hint of her being drunk. Ah well, it had been worth a shot. The young woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a few folded bills, set them on the counter, and made to stand up.

        A hand landed on her right shoulder, squeezing none-too-gently. In her distracted musings, she hadn’t even been paying attention to the people milling about the pub. She didn’t need to look at the guy who’d grabbed her; she knew he wasn’t human. Now, the only question was...

        “Demon or faery?” Her voice was low, almost swallowed up by the conversations and general noise that were commonplace in a place like this.

        Soon-to-be-unconscious-idiot, however, had senses that were a whole lot keener than any mortal’s. He chuckled and the weight of his hand shifted, pressing her back down into her seat as he took the barstool on her right. “Seelie...but I’m curious as to how you know about my kind. You’re obviously not human, but you’re definitely not from the Nevernever.”

        The hand left her shoulder, ran down the length of her arm to gently grasp her wrist. A false comfort, considering how she could feel this guy out. He was the kind that liked to hurt people; one of the more dangerous fey that frolicked amongst the humans. She was pulled out of her thoughts once more as the faery continued.

        “...definitely remember someone like you.” He was reaching out to grasp her chin, to force her to look at him, she could see it in her peripheral vision.

        The woman tensed, ready to turn and break the guy’s wrist-

        And someone else stopped him instead. Another hand, covered in a black, fingerless glove, grabbed the faery’s wrist and squeezed. She could hear the bones creaking, ready to break.

        The interloper’s voice was pleasant enough. Male, low and smooth; something that probably made most females weak at the knees. “I know you Summer piskies think you’re all that, but it’s pretty obvious to me that the lady doesn’t like you. Do yourself a favor, eh? Back off.” The last sentence had the back of her neck prickling once again, but it wasn’t what the stranger had said so much as how he said it. He’d...growled, for lack of a better word.

        The Seelie must’ve seen something in the guy that scared him, because he didn’t even bother with trying to refute the guy’s claim. He was up and out of there like lightning.

        New Guy sat down next to her. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, burning into the side of her head.

        She still didn’t look away from the scarred wood that made up the bar. She didn’t know why, but some instinct just told her it wasn’t the right time, yet. “Demon or faery?” She’d asked the first guy because she’d been too lost in thought to properly probe the moron, but with this one, it was a bit...different. No matter how hard she looked, she just couldn’t get a good read on the guy. It was like he wasn’t anything, and yet...there was something familiar about him, something she couldn’t put her finger on.

        His quiet chuckle made her skin prickle yet again. “Ah...try a bit of both, sweetie.”

Now if that wasn’t the most convoluted answer she’d ever gotten...it almost reminded her of her AWOL older brother. She still refused to look at him, that little voice in her head was still telling her to wait.

        New Guy got the bartender’s attention and put in his order. When Spyder finally felt it was time for her to look up a few minutes later, his silver-blue irises were the first thing to catch her eye. There was an all-too-familiar gleam in the depths of his gaze, something she’d grown familiar to, something she always looked for in...

        He was smirking. Oh, she knew he was smirking. It may have been hidden by his glass, but she just knew. And then she realized what kind of drink he’d gotten.

        Spyder graciously waited until he’d set his drink down before slugging him in the shoulder.

        He started to “complain” (aka: whine) about her attack, but was promptly cut off when Spyder nearly knocked him off of his stool. Valoc only froze for a split second before he wrapped one arm around his little sister and ruffled her hair with a faint smile. “Hey, we had a date, didn’t we? I promised I wouldn’t bail on you this time.”

        “Demons aren’t known for keeping their promises,” she muttered into his shirt.

        They were making a scene, he could tell, but damn it all, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Forget the “tough-guy” image he’d planned on displaying when he walked through that door; he’d let it go, just for tonight. He had been gone for almost a year, after all. It’d almost surprised him when he found he’d missed his kid sister. Valoc hadn’t gotten that attached to anyone in...forever, really.

        “Yeah, well I ain’t exactly a red-skinned imp toting a pitchfork. ‘Least, not anymore.” He pulled away a bit, noticed that Spyder’s eyes seemed to be watering. His smile shifted into a smirk and he tapped her nose. “C’mon, Spyder, if you start bawling like a baby, then I’ll know that you’ve missed me too much.”

        She shoved him away and discreetly wiped her eyes as she turned to flag down the bartender. She’d need another drink to get her through this evening. “Who says I missed you? I was just getting all emotional ‘cause I figured I’d have to cover my own bar tab this time.”

        Valoc winced and shook his head. “You sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself, Spider-Girl.”

        Spyder snorted and took her drink from the bartender. “Shut your trap, Valerie. You’re worse than I am.”

        He smirked at her as they clinked their glasses together. “Ain’t that the truth?”

---

Spyder, Valoc, Luke, the bartender, and the random unnamed faery are all mine.

Coal, Akan, and Spyder's father (Lucifer/Satan), who are mentioned in passing, belong to my friend, Jessica.

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Heaven's Garden

Gabriel: *is sitting quietly in his garden by a patch of forget-me-nots, lost in thought, a dove perched next to him, just keeping him company*

Myrael: *silently slips into the garden, looking around curiously before moving over to a patch of herbal plants. She's barefoot, wearing a plain white dress. Her long blonde hair almost seems to glow in comparison to the pure white fabric, and most of her minor injuries have healed. The only signs of battle left on her are the few burns on her wings, which are still covered by bandages. Her wings are folded close to her back, however, making it nearly impossible to see the bandages. She kneels down next to the patch of herbs and begins carefully gathering a few flowers from the betony plants, making sure not to take too many from a single plant*

Myrael: *tucks the purple flowers into the blue sash tied around her waist, then places both hands flat on the ground before slowly standing up. She winces as her left wing is jostled slightly, though the pain quickly disappears from her face. Her bright blue eyes scan her immediate surroundings, and after a moment, she moves over to another patch of herbs, and kneels down once again, beginning to gather yellow flowers from several of the mullein plants. Now that the angel is certain no one is around to hear her, she's quietly humming under her breath, her voice so soft that it's barely noticeable*

*The dove's head cocks slightly, picking up the faint sounds of Myrael's humming*

Myrael: *tucks the mullein into her sash as well, and starts to harvest some cloves from one of the shorter clove trees. She's now singing quietly, even though there is no discernible meaning to what she's vocalizing*

*The dove coos and flaps his wings to get Gabriel's attention*

Gabriel: *stirs from his thoughts and looks around at the dove, his brow furrowing slightly* Someone in the garden...? *pauses hearing Myrael singing*

*The dove coos and gently pecks at Gabriel*

Gabriel: What? No... I'll just go see what she needs from the garden. *stands and follows the sound of Myrael's voice to find her*

Gabriel: *on seeing her by the cloves hesitates slightly, just watching for a moment before stepping forward and saying* Are you collecting herbs for Raphael and Jehudiel?

Myrael: *freezes, immediately falling silent. After a moment, she hesitantly casts a slightly embarrassed glance his way before securing the cloves in her grasp and standing up. Her eyes flash with pain as her left wing is jostled once again, though it's barely perceptible* Yes, I was. My apologies, Gabriel. I did not mean to disturb you.

Gabriel: *tiny look of concern comes into his face* Is your wing still bothering you?

Myrael: *tucking the cloves into the small pouch hanging from her sash, she pauses and looks up at him* Hm? Oh no, it's perfectly fine. *a faint smile, though it quickly disappears as she returns to her current task* Well, as fine as can be expected, given the damage done to it during the battle.

Gabriel: Would you like me to help you gather the herbs? *his ears turn very, very faintly red as he says it*

Myrael: *faintly smiling once again, she shakes her head* No, it's fine. I've obviously distracted you from tending your garden...I think it would be best if I were to return to the infirmary, and leave you to your work.

Gabriel: Oh, no, it's quite alright. I was just thinking. I would be glad to help. It is not... not easy to be unable to help when those you care about are in danger.

Myrael: *tilts her head slightly* I suppose Raphael won't worry himself too much over my...disappearance. *she smiles somewhat sheepishly before stepping forward and taking Gabriel's hand. She maintains eye contact as she slips the cloves she was unable to fit inside her satchel into his hand* But I shall only accept your assistance if you tell me what is troubling you.

Gabriel: *flushes slightly, then seems to regain his composure a bit* I... have been worried about Spyder and Idan. And Alex as well, he is quite distraught. *is hesitating, wondering if he should actually tell her or not*

*wings beat softly overhead and the dove lands in a tree on a branch near Gabriel's head, a bunch of forget-me-nots clamped in its beak*

Gabriel: *closes his eyes and sighs*

*The dove coos around the flowers in its beak*

Myrael: *pulls away from Gabriel, laughing softly* It seems your friend knows of my favorite flower. *moving closer to the dove, she extends a hand for him to land on, while casting Gabriel an amused glance* I wonder who told him such a thing.

*The dove lands on her hand, cooing some more*

Gabriel: I do have a patch of forget-me-nots in the garden. I have... quite a lot of flowers here, most types, actually. *gives a tiny frown to the dove, as if saying "why?"*

*The dove drops the flowers in Myrael's hand, coos loudly and flies onto Gabriel's shoulder*

Myrael: *merely shakes her head and smiles before turning to face Gabriel. She reaches up and tucks the flowers into her hair, just above her ear* Sadly, these flowers are not as useful as some of the herbs that grow here. Gabriel, are you still willing to help me, or would you rather me leave you to your thoughts?

Gabriel: No, no. I would still like to help. I think you might find some of the herbs you will need over here. *gestures her back the way he came, and starts leading her to the patch of forget-me-nots, a part of him thinking* What am I doing?

Myrael: *her smile grows and she hesitates a moment before tucking her arm around his, as she used to do when they were younger, before the war tore them and the rest of Heaven apart* I believe you are guiding me through your garden. Why, did you think that we might do something else?

Gabriel: *actually turns red* No, I just... haven't shown many people this part of the garden. *brushes aside a curtain of lichen and enters the little grotto* But I have given the herbs from it to others many times.

*The grotto is filled to bursting with herbs of every kind, the most useful, the most beautiful, and forget-me-nots spill about and around all the other plants, and by their own flower bed is a small bench, where Gabriel has spent much time, lost in thought, and where he'd been sitting previously. Curtains of lichen screen the grotto from the rest of the garden, and a tiny stream winds through*

Myrael: *she pauses just inside the entrance, taking the time to observe the multitude of plants located within this hidden part of the garden. What catches her eyes the most, however, is the sheer multitude of forget-me-nots dotting the area. She's never seen so many of the blue flowers in one place, but she has a good idea as to why they've been planted in such large numbers. The angel slips away from Gabriel, taking a few steps further into the grotto, trying to get a grip on her suddenly racing thoughts so she can make some sort of semi-intelligent remark. Cursing her inability to think clearly, she turns to Gabriel and manages to get her head on straight in time to ask* When did you plant all of these? Was it...after...?

Gabriel: I... yes. *a little nervously* Do you like it? *runs a hand through his hair* I tried to find the best herbs... and of course, the forget-me-nots...

Myrael: *recognizing the signs of him becoming nervous, she smiles and shakes her head, as Gabriel has just proven her assumption correct. Stepping forward, she takes his hands in hers and says with complete honesty* I think it's beautiful, and not just because of the forget-me-nots. *now with a wry smile* Though I do have to wonder why there are so many of my favorite flowers scattered about this part of the garden.

Gabriel: *sighs slightly closing his eyes, whispers* I let them grow unchecked. I come here a lot. I wanted to tell you so many times, but... So much kept happening. The War, then the Battlefield, Alex, now Spyder and Idan... I never expected to become a father. And, before, you were happy. So I said nothing. I kept silent because I did not want to... *sighs* I know... you've fought many times, but I suppose I was trying to be as cautious as Matthew.

Myrael: *sighs, a tinge of sorrow now evident in her expression, though her voice is firm* Luke chose his path, and I chose mine. Whatever we may have been in the past... let it remain in the past. I only pity him...I do not hate him, and I will never love him as I once did. You... Matthew... everyone; they needn't worry about mentioning him. He is Lucifer's eldest son, and I once loved him. That does not mean I cannot face what he has become.

Myrael: I must admit, I am surprised...I should think you would not be able to bear keeping such a wondrous part of your garden a secret... *she smiles warmly at him* Though I suppose we all need a place to escape to when the world becomes too trying for us to manage.

Gabriel: *smiles a little* It is one of the most peaceful places I know. Myrael... *very quietly* I never doubted you would face the truth. I was only afraid that you still loved him.

Myrael: *is silent a moment, though she doesn't look away from him. Her voice is somewhat quieter when she finally speaks once again* Since my return...and even before that, I had my suspicions...by showing me this...well, you've certainly proved me correct in a way I never would have imagined.

Myrael: How on earth did you manage it? After the war...all that time before, and then both Luke and myself were gone... And yet, after all this time, over ten thousand years...how have your feelings remained unchanged?

Gabriel: *a faint smile of relief and love breaks through* I could never forget, and any time I thought I might, I would remember... and I would fall for you again. *tiny wry smile* Angels are blessed and cursed with a good memory.

Myrael: *her eyes widen, and it seems a thousand emotions fly through her in rapid succession: shock, awe, compassion (for she knows what it is like to love someone who is lost to you), sorrow - some she can't even put a name to. But the one that finally settles, the one that stays, despite all the other feelings whirling around in her heart and mind...it does not remind her of what she felt for Luke. No, this feeling...it's different, somehow. More pure... more... real, than what she felt with Luke. It's as if this love she's just found had been there all along, and she's only truly noticed its presence in this moment. Even though she knows how she feels, she can't manage to put the feeling into words... which frustrates her to no end, as she knows Gabriel deserves to know; that he's waiting for her response. She hesitates and closes her eyes, praying silently for a touch of courage, before meeting Gabriel's gaze once again. Steeling her nerve and pushing her fear aside, she steps forward, cups Gabriel's face with both her hands, and kisses him*

Gabriel: *actually freezes in shock for a moment before gently responding, holding her close*

Alex: *brushes aside the curtain of lichen on the other side of the garden and enters, looking around* Gabri... *trails away into nothing as he sees him kissing Myrael and his face turns bright red. He attempts to make a retreat, but trips backwards over the edge of a flowerbed and ends up sprawling flat on his back among the flowers, whispers* Ow...

Myrael: *freezes and pulls away after a few seconds hesitation, not really able to meet Gabriel's eyes as she lowers her head, hiding her flushed face with her long blonde hair*

Gabriel: *still holding her hand, looks over her shoulder to see what the crash was, then starts to hurry forward a bit* Alex? Are you alright?

Alex: *still cherry red, sits up slightly, manages* I'm fine...

Gabriel: *helps pull Alex out of the plants and brushes off some of the plant bits that stuck to him*

Myrael: *trails behind Gabriel, though she's recovered enough to look at Alex without feeling as though she might die of embarrassment* Are you sure? That sounded like quite a fall.

Alex: *color is not retreating from his face, and he knows it, and that makes him even more embarrassed* I think I just bruised my leg a bit on the edge of the barrier, that's all.

Gabriel: *sighs and hugs Alex* What are you doing here?

Alex: I just wanted to talk to you, and well... *his face appears to have a very bad sunburn* You're usually here, so...

Gabriel: *turns red a bit too even as he rubs Alex's back to comfort him* Ah.

Myrael: *sighs, now a bit frustrated, with herself mostly* Oh honestly, it was merely a kiss. Why should any of us feel embarrassed about what just happened?

Alex: *is unable to redden anymore* I just didn't mean to interrupt...

Gabriel: *smiles a little ruefully* Embarrassment has a habit of spreading sometimes.

Myrael: *places a hand on Alex's head and offers a warm smile. Her cheeks are still slightly pink, but she seems mostly recovered* Don't worry about it, alright?

Gabriel: *gives Alex a squeeze* There was no way you could have known what was happening.

---

This is, once again, an RP between my friend Jessica and myself. All three characters listed above are angels, though Alex is only on his way to becoming one.

Gabriel is a name many of you might be familiar with. Yes, he is the archangel you're probably thinking of, the one that told Mary she would give birth to Jesus.

Alex is the Devil's youngest son. He renounced Hell and his family, and thus Rose to the rank of... Novum Angeli, I think. (Psst, that makes him a Novus Angelus. Latin is weird.) Please, Jessica, when you read this, correct me if I'm wrong.

Myrael is the eldest daughter of Metatron, who is Lucifer's brother. Metatron refused to rebel against God with his brother - indeed, he never knew his brother intended to start a war.

Luke, who is only mentioned in passing, was Myrael's betrothed before the War. Luke is the Devil's eldest son - the only one born in Heaven. And, yes, sadly, he chose to follow his father, and so, he Fell, along with the rest of the rebels.

Backstory...I'll give you the short version. Myrael, Luke, and Gabriel were all close, before the War. Myrael and Luke fell in love, and Gabriel loved Myrael as well, but decided to graciously step aside, as he saw that his friends were happy together. Then, the War happened. In the night before the War officially broke out, Myrael and Luke met, and Luke attempted to convince her to join the rebels.

At least, that was his plan. Myrael knew his intentions, however, and because she loved him so much, she was afraid she might not be able to resist him. So, before Luke could say anything, Myrael stabbed him. As she gathered his dying form in her arms, his last act was retaliation. He stabbed Myrael, and they died in each others arms. This would be the last time they would ever be able to physically touch each other ever again. Tragically, Gabriel was left behind.

When angels and demons die in this fictional world, they remain "dead" for a thousand years. It's like...they basically fall asleep, and wake up a thousand years later. Then, they reconstitute, as they are purely spirit (but they can take on physical forms when they wish).

However, Myrael and Luke remained "dead" for...I think at this point, it's up to 11 millennia. They were thought to be lost forever. Then, one day, they simply reappeared in the Battlefield (the place where the War was first fought). Myrael appeared after Luke, however, and thus, they avoided a confrontation just after their "rebirth".

With that huge backstory out of the way, I shall cite my sources!

Myrael and Luke belong to me.

Gabriel and Alex belong to my friend, Jessica.

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Culture Shock

Escherious: *leaning against the bar, he flags down the bartender and orders a straight shot of vodka, then turns his head to stare at Mordolvo for a moment before ordering a glass of whiskey. The bartender rushes off to fulfill said order, and Escherious turns away, leaning back with his elbows resting on the countertop. He looks quite at home in the chaotic club, calm despite the dull roar of the crowd and the pulsing beat of the music. He levels an amused half-smile at Mordolvo* Well? What grand opinion have you formed of the commoners that dwell in this world, my friend?

Mordolvo: *takes the glass and tastes it experimentally, assessing how it compares to the drinks in Novia, his gaze sweeping the club frequently. He seems rather stiff, his gaze lingering on the women every now and then, more out of surprise and shock than real interest* They are.... strange. *examines the drink again, holding up the glass* Though I do appreciate the beverages.

Escherious: *downs his shot of vodka before setting the glass down and pushing it to the side* Mmm, yes...careful, though. I'm not quite sure how much liquor you are used to holding, but the drinks in this realm are quite...potent. They've got a legal limit in place due to the fact that most humans here tend to get drunk rather easily. I imagine the fashion trends here are quite different from what you Novians had going.

Mordolvo: *snorts* I have seen the darkest creatures of Novia drunk, I am no stranger to alcohol. *gaze follows a young woman in a deep blue and black halter top, his eyebrow raising as he faintly notices her furry white ears* Clothing is indeed much more... covering, in Novia. Tell me, what creatures frequent these pubs aside from the humans?

Escherious: *smirks, eyeing the woman as well* The odd faery, a demon or two...nothing the two of us need worry about. *he glances at Mordolvo* I imagine the humans in this establishment think you rather odd...if any of them are stupid enough to question your eye color, tell them you're wearing contacts.

Mordolvo: *eyebrows knit together, half sarcastic* Contacts? How would one wear a connection to another person, and what do they have to do with my eyes?

Escherious: *he laughs. Yes. Yes, he has the audacity to freaking laugh at Mordolvo. He signals the bartender to give him another shot, and shakes his head in mild disbelief* Remind me to give you a dictionary... You've seen the glass lenses that humans sometimes wear, yes? Those contraptions better their sight. Contacts are relatively the same thing, but they are inserted under the eyelid, and cover the eye directly. Some contacts are not for correcting eyesight, however. Their purpose is to alter the color of one's eye. Red is not a natural eye color on this planet. So, if anyone asks, tell them you're wearing colored contacts. They'll accept it, though they might think you a bit odd for wearing "red contacts".

Daniel: *staring wide-eyed at a woman that walks by, his eyebrows at risk of disappearing into his hair* What in God's name... *turns to Emma, in an almost accusing voice* You've taken us to a brothel, haven't you?

Emma: *putting a hand on his shoulder and steering him into the club* No, I have not. It's called a club. And this actually one of the... more conservative ones. It's okay to show arms and legs, Daniel. You may have called this a "pub" back home.

Daniel: *resisting the urge to plug his ears, as the music is rather loud, he mutters* I avoided those pubs like the plague...the women there would always invade my personal space...extend offers that I.. *looks at Emma and decides he'd better not finish his statement* ...they were much too crowded and rowdy for my taste.

Emma: *smirks slightly, guessing what he'd avoided saying, taking off her jacket* Yeah, there may be a few girls like that wandering around here, but they'll back off if they think you're taken.

Daniel: *raises an eyebrow at Emma taking off her jacket, then sighs, seeing as most of the other women in this building are wearing even less than his girlfriend* I certainly hope so...it makes things like this strenuous, when one has to fend off harpies.

Emma: *laughs a little, looping her arm through his* C'mon, why don't we find a spot that's not so loud? The music takes a bit of getting used to.

Daniel: *clutches her a bit tighter than usual, and sighs* I...hope I get used to it sooner rather than later...

Emma: *leans her head on his shoulder a little* You'll be fine, don't worry about it.

Rose: *finally makes it into the club, as she'd been following behind the loving couple, and looks around, her gaze focusing on the dance floor in particular* ...jeez, it's like a freaking war zone down there.

Rose: *darting through the crowd, she makes her way over to Daniel and Emma* Whaddya guys want from the bar? I'll take orders if you need time to adjust.

Emma: Just a beer would be good. *glances at Daniel* How much drinking are you used to?

Daniel: *shrugs* I...honestly I don't really drink.

Rose: *waves the both of them off* I'll get him a glass of wine, it's cool. Red, right?

Daniel: *eyeing his sister uncertainly* Yes...

Rose: *nods* Right, then. Be back in a sec. *and she's off, darting through the crowd again. If anything, it looks as if she's...dancing right around them. Ah, but making it through a crowd without hitting anyone, that does take a bit of grace...she's not much for dancing on a dance floor, but darting through a crowd, moving just so to avoid collision, she likes to think of it as a dance*

Rose: *she, by some stroke of misfortune, manages to find an empty spot at the bar to lean against...but that's only because every other sane being in the club had been avoiding the man on the stool next to her. The aura he gave off was foreboding, but Rose was honestly too distracted to pay it much attention. She flags down the bartender with a wave...and maybe a little mental nudge courtesy of her abilities* I'll need a Stella, in a glass mind you, not one of those canned ones...a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, and please make sure it was bottled at least two years ago...annnd... *she pauses, looking up at the drink menu on the wall* ...a strawberry margarita. *and so the bartender rushes off to go fulfill the order*

Mordolvo: *stares at the girl next to him* Are all women in this world as brash as Ariana?

Escherious: *raises an eyebrow* Some are worse...most are worse, in fact.

Rose: *without even bothering to look at the idiot next to her* So did you wake up this morning, look in the mirror, and say to yourself, "I think I'll insult every person I come across today!" or is that just your way of tryin' to flirt? Believe me when I say it ain't working.

Mordolvo: *sneers at Rose* For one, if I were to "flirt" I would not have started with you, I do not see much worth trying for. *having at this point realized who she is* Second, flirting with my stepdaughter is unappealing in general. *he casually takes another sip of his whisky*

Rose: *okay so the first thing that hits her is that she just...y'know, pulled her trademark snark on...her stepfather. And the next thing she realizes is that...she's...not dead. And he's not attacking her. And then, finally, the implied insult in his first sentence registers, and she has to bite back the urge to retaliate with the same amount of enthusiasm she would normally use. As it stands, she ain't gonna let that one slide. The bartender returns with the three drinks she'd ordered, and quickly hurries off once he picks up on the tension radiating from the little trio. Rose picks up her strawberry margarita, then looks at the other two drinks. She then glances at the two men seated next to her, sighs, and waves a hand over the glass. Her eyes flash purple and an opaque barrier appears over the liquid, preventing any sort of foreign substance from contaminating her drink. She then sets it down, grabs the beer and glass of wine, and heads over to Daniel and Emma*

Escherious: *raises an eyebrow as he stares at Mordolvo* Interesting.

Daniel: *looks up as his sister hands him the glass of wine and smiles once he takes a sip from it* Sometime in the future, you're going to tell me how you know my preferences as well as you do.

Emma: *takes her beer, and raises it a little* Cheers.

Rose: Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go rescue my drink from the clutches of...the...bar. Yeah. *and she's off into the crowd once again...not really looking forward to reaching her destination*

Mordolvo: *glances at Escherious* If we are to blend in, at least somewhat, then I am limited to insults and degradation. *glances briefly at Rose's drink* Though poison would not be an unwelcome thought.

Escherious: Now, now, if you do that here, the authorities might get involved.

Rose: *eyes narrowed, as she had heard that last comment thank you very much, she approaches the bar again and slides onto the stool, pulling her drink closer and waving a hand over it again. The opaque barrier disappears and her eyes glimmer with another flash of purple light. She sips once before muttering* I think zombies contaminate pretty much every damn thing around them just by breathing.

Mordolvo: *chuckles* Zombie? Oh no, I assure you, I am very much of the living.

Escherious: *simply sips from a glass of vodka that...appears to have come from nowhere, content to watch things develop*

Rose: And more's the pity. *she'd like to go on, but realizes that ignoring him might actually prove beneficial in this situation, and so falls silent, content to pay attention to her drink, and nothing else*

Daniel: *frowns* ...Emma, about how long does it normally take to retrieve a drink from the bar in these sorts of places?

Emma: If she's already ordered it? Not long. *brow knits in mild concern* Actually, if she ordered when she got ours, she just needs to grab it from wherever she left it. *after a long moment of silence, she stands up* I'm going to go look for her, if she left it unattended.... well, let's say that can lead to bad situations. You'll be alright over here for a bit?

Daniel: *nods* I'll be fine...call me if you need any help.

Emma: Alright. *heads off towards the bar to find Rose*

Mordolvo: *cruel smile starting as he studies Rose* And how is my son?

Rose: *when she came to this club, she hadn't expected a test of self-control. Thankfully, she's gotten a bit better at controlling her impulses since the disaster a few months ago. So, rather than responding to her stepfather's obvious baiting tactic, she remains silent and sips from her drink, closing her eyes to listen to the music filling the club*

Escherious: *smirks at the exchange* Mordolvo, I do believe you've gone and switched roles. Normally she is the one attempting to goad the enemy.

Mordolvo: *sneers a little, disappointed that she's not responding, and says to Escherious* So it would seem. However, if I'm not mistaken, this silence may indicate that something... happened. *smirks cruelly at Rose*

Rose: *rolls her eyes and turns her head slightly, looking rather...bored. Oh, but it's taking all of her self-control not to slap that smirk right off of his face* Suddenly poison is starting to look like a very tempting idea... He's got a point, y'know. Why the sudden interest in mimicking my mannerisms? *a faint smirk blooms, though it disappears rather quickly* You won't get any information out of me, if that's what you're fishing for. Quit while you're ahead— it might help you live longer. *she stands up, taking her drink with her, as she can sense Emma approaching, and moves to intercept her before the Hellsguard can see who it was Rose had been talking to*

Emma: *spotting Rose, waves and heads over* There you are! You okay? Nothing wrong with your drink?

Rose: *her expression instantly shifts into one that's more relaxed and she shakes her head* Nah, I just left it unattended and had to order another one. Better safe than sorry, you know how it is. *rolls her eyes and drapes an arm over Emma's shoulders, moving with her back to the third member of their group* Can't trust anyone in these sorts of places...all kinds of pervs and poxes on the human race lurking about.

Emma: *relaxes a little* Yeah, no kidding. Still, this is a pretty good club, no active hauntings that I've found around here.

Escherious: *a quiet laugh escapes him and he turns back to his drink*

Daniel: *pushes away from the wall he'd been leaning against, and walks forward to meet his girlfriend and sister* What took you so long? I was worried.

Emma: We're fine, she just had to order a new drink, that's all.

Rose: *steps away from Emma, moving to take Daniel's spot on the wall. She's half-hidden by the shadows, watching the bar with a wary eye*

Daniel: *visibly relaxes, a faint smile working its way into his expression* Ah, I see. *his gaze darts back and forth between the two girls, and he clears his throat* Erm...normally I'd avoid joining the crowd in a place like this, but the point of my coming here was to learn how to assimilate, so... *offers Emma a smile and his hand* Would you care to dance?

Emma: *grins and takes his hand* Sure, but you're dancing my way. *pulls him onto the dance floor, just as the music hits a "slow song"*

Daniel: *a very smug smirk makes its way onto his face and he moves his hands into the proper position. Well, proper for modern times. Both of his hands come to rest on Emma's waist, and he leans down to press his forehead  against hers* Personally, I prefer this method of dancing to the others more common in this day and age. They're much more personal, more meaningful, in a way.

Rose: *her gaze is just volleying back and forth between the happy couple on the dance floor and the two men seated at the bar. She's using her own energy to mask the presence of Mordolvo and Escherious, wanting to give Daniel and Emma some time alone to do their own thing, without having to worry about any danger*

Emma: *smiles at him, her arms looped around his neck* Yeah, it is, and it means I can do this. *she gives him a kiss, nothing like some of the other couples glued together so tightly that you can't tell one person from another, but a gentle, loving kiss*

*Abruptly, the music cuts off, then starts up again with an even louder scream from some metal band, that launches into a very chaotic song. The DJ can be seen chasing the faery Mordolvo had noticed earlier away from the system, who's laughing at his futile attempts to catch her, her eyes alight with mischief, she pauses to wiggle her fingers at him before turning into a cat and disappearing in the crowd*

*The DJ mumbles curses, heading back to his now glamoured an slightly dysfunctional stereo system. The trained eye would notice that he has pointed ears and sharper features than the average human tenants of the club*

Rose: *rolls her eyes* Damn fey and their pranks...

Emma: *wincing and holding her ears* That was loud...

Daniel: *stiffens, as the sudden screaming and crashing instruments remind him of battles he's fought before, of one incident in particular, actually. He relaxes somewhat at the sound of Emma's voice, however* Maybe...we should call it a night?

Emma: Sure, if you want. The DJ's probably going to have a hard time fixing it for a while, this isn't the first time that something like this happened here.

Rose: *is sick and tired of the music already, and is moving through the crowd to Daniel and Emma. She grabs the both of them and pulls them towards the exit, nudging them out ahead of her. She then turns back to the bar and, glaring at the duo still seated there, offers a rather rude gesture with one hand before darting out after her companions*

---

So, this is a very long post, as you can see. This is the entirety of what I believe is the shortest RP my friend Jessica and I have ever done. This here is the explanation for the formatting, and me being a good student and citing my sources.

First off, the formatting. What's up with those funny little stars? Well, my dear readers, those are called "asterisks", and this here RP is formatted in what is known as "script" style. Basically, it's styled much like a play's script would be. Italics, however, are used for emphasis in the dialogue, so naturally, the actions (character-based movement) couldn't be indicated by italics. That's what the asterisks are for. ...I have no explanation as to why the names of characters are not in all-caps. It just looks prettier, I guess.

And now, for the citing of my sources! Or, if you'd prefer, who owns what character.

Daniel Cypress, Rose Islingr, and Escherious belong to me, your lovely narrator.

Mordolvo and Emma Lancy (Hellsguard) belong to my friend, Jessica.

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Kat's Secret - Let Me Breathe

        The clearing was calm, hidden deep within the Wyldewood. Untouched by most fey, only a select few knew of its existence. The sun and moon were fighting, as per usual, and this time, it was the sun that refused to show itself and provide the forest with some much needed light.

        Any birds sleeping in the trees that bordered the edge of the empty meadow fled, wildly squawking in a language known only to them. The sound that had disturbed them wasn't obvious, at first. But when Kathlynn stumbled into the clearing, it was suddenly clear as to why the winged creatures had fled.

        A faery's beauty, whether Seelie or Unseelie, was always obvious at first glance. But the moonlight filtering through the trees above her wasn't the only source of the gleam in her eyes. Her face was unnaturally flushed. The bright, berry-red color of her lips was never this obvious. The young woman looked about her a moment, obviously confused, unsure as to where exactly she was. Her eyes brightened with realization a moment later, and she suddenly fell to her knees, staring in shocked silence at the ground beneath her.

        Her wandering eyes caught sight of a lone white flower the glowed brilliantly in the darkness, and with that reminder, her face crumpled, and the tears she'd been holding back poured down her face all at once. She wrapped her arms around herself, crumbling inward in response to the sheer agony she felt. "Heartbreak" ...she'd never thought it was meant literally. The grass cushioned her body as she collapsed onto her side, curling into a tight ball and sobbing raggedly. The forest came to life around her as her glamour infected the plants nearby, and the tree branches around the edge of the clearing wove themselves together, forming a barrier and preventing the one she'd been fleeing from following her.

---

One week later

Looking around, she swallows past the lump in her throat, fingering the strings of her guitar idly. With a light shake of her head, she shoves away any misgivings she might have, and begins to play.

As the song goes on, she doesn't seem to notice the tears dripping from her lashes. The lump in her throat is agony, but she keeps playing, hoping that someday, somehow, she might actually be able to get over this. 75 years old, and she's already broken up over one stupid guy? Not likely, she tells herself. She plays on, not for him, not for herself, but for her unfulfilled dream. Maybe someday, she says. Maybe soon.

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Questioning Paradise

Did he set out to destroy it all?
Did he understand how far he'd Fall?

Does he ever regret it?
Does he wish he could change?
Is there anything left,
Aside from his rage?

Beyond redemption.
Beyond all hope.
Sympathy for the Devil?
It's best left alone.

---

 I was researching Paradise Lost, trying to find out if purchasing an edition of the epic poem was worth it, when I could simply find it online for free. You see, when it comes to poetry, I prefer to hold a physical book in my hand. It speaks to me more, in that...the words have a physical presence. You aren't creating the words, you're only speaking for them. When reading poetry aloud, you're not really the one speaking. The poem itself is. All the speaker is doing is...translating.

Lately, I've found myself examining my faith, my ideals and beliefs, more often. Especially when it comes to the matters of angels and fallen angels, as I myself have a number of characters that belong to either group. This is the main premise behind my best friend's fictional world (that I myself have contributed to, on numerous occasions) - Heaven and Hell exist. Angels and demons, they exist. But there are angels that were created, and angels that were born. Likewise, there are Fallen angels, and there are demons that were born, not created.

These "demons" did nothing wrong - it wasn't by their own hand that they ended up in Hell. So, in this fictional world, these demons that are born in Hell, to other demons, or Fallen angels, have a chance to Rise. They have to renounce Hell, and Satan, along with all his works, and flee to the human world, where an angel is sent to collect them. There's more to the it than that, but I'm no expert on this process, and I'd rather generalize as opposed to risking the wrath of my friend for getting something wrong.

(By the way, Jess, feel free to comment the names of all the different types of angels and demons. They're in Latin, and I can't pronounce them, nor remember them. I'm worse than Dory in that aspect.)

Anyways...I had a point to this. Ah! Yes, the other source of inspiration for this poem. As my friend and I RP (that's "role-play" to all you uninformed folks out there) various situations in this fictional world of ours, Lucifer/Satan often makes dramatic appearances (note: do not mention porcupines to him, or orbs of light, or the scar on his face). And...his life is shown, sometimes, outside of the War between Heaven and Hell. He is...somewhat true to the real Devil, I suppose. But, much as I'd like to believe I am an elf from Middle Earth, my friend and I are human. And as humans, we can never truly understand nor portray God, the Devil, angels, and demons accurately. Not completely. So this is the closest we've gotten.

I often wonder if he regrets the path he chose. In my heart of hearts, I know this can't be true. After all, he and his followers still act against God, against humanity, against Good. And that is not what a remorseful creature would do.

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An Introduction with More References than You Can Shake a Stick At

Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the blog beyond the Dark Web to take back the plot you have stolen! For my rhythm is as strong as yours, and my imagination as great. You have no power here!

...whoops. Getting ahead of myself, there. And crossing the wrong fandoms. The Labyrinth and Middle Earth don't quite orbit the same suns...or exist in the same universes, for that matter.

Hey all! Rose here. I'm this blog's intrepid admin. Don't mind the fact that I have a "co-author", I've just gone and connected this blog to two separate accounts of mine. One belongs to my school, the other is my own personal account. (Of course, I doubt you'll be able to tell the difference between the two. They both look relatively similar.)

Ah, yes. I have a school account as the author of this blog. Why? Well, originally this blog was created for a web design class I'm currently taking. No, dear reader, unfortunately, I will not be telling you what grade I am in, nor where I live, nor what school I go to, and so on and so forth. Obi-wan has taught me well. Anyways, my point! My point is that I plan on continuing this blog past its due date. I really do like it, and as I'm already active on deviantART, I thought this might be a good place to keep my writing that I'd rather not post on a very active site. If anyone reads this, they'll probably have come here looking for it, or know me in real life. (Hi Jess!)

I may or may not post regularly. I'm notorious for dropping away from the face of the internet for no apparent reason. Rest assured, dear reader, if I disappear, it is not because I wished the goblin king would take me away right now. There is no dance magic to be found, here.

And again with the Lord of the Rings! Boromir, Gandalf is sitting quietly in his corner, why don't you go join him? Perhaps before I grab a bow and finish what the orcs started, hmm?

Anyways, I just wanted to introduce myself, let you all know that I'm human, and that I most certainly am not crazy. Well, insanity is relative. And we are all mad here, to an extent. Come with me, down the rabbit hole! They have no power over us here.

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