#391 words

[tidalrace]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Leverage Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aimee Martin/Eliot Spencer Characters: Aimee Martin Summary: Written for the prompt "And I wonder if I ever cross your mind; for me it happens all the time - Lady Antebellum" on Fic_Promptly

[asheewrites]

Unbind me - you know which two

Unbind me – Atmon and Universe-travelling Raphael (which I knew)

 Opening the doors to the palace, Atmon stepped out into the front yard. And was greeted by a barefoot angel, dressed in a medical coat, bound to a pole, head held high and raising a brow at the surrounding demons.

She turned her head at the noise, looking him up and down and sparing a glance at the lecherous demons surrounding her, much more interested in retreating now.

“Greetings. With the assumption you carry the authority – may I take off these ropes?” She said, voice less than amused.

Atmon tilted his head, regarding her for a moment longer, then shrugged: “Certainly, archangels usually can’t be contained by ropes”

She nodded and five seconds later – her hands moved behind her back – the ropes fell: “I thought it a formality.” She took a step forward in his direction, ignoring the further scattering hell beasts: “So, thank you. My name is Raphael, archangel of wind, the one who heals, upholding the virtue of temperance. And I seek assistance” The last words were accompanied by a curtsy. “May I inquire your designation?”

“Atmon,” he said, regarding her six openly displayed wings with a raised brow of his own, “Ruler of Hell, representing Pride,” he leaned against the nearest pillar.

“Not Lucifer,” was the immediate response. Then she shook her head: “I mean no disrespect. Please, continue”

“… no. He was overthrown. As you should know?”

“Oh certainly. As well as you know that the archangel Raphael chooses a different appearance, wing structure and aura. So yes, I am a visitor. And I am looking for my counterpart in this universe. It likely is a demon. Will you be of assistance? To restore balance to the universes?” She sounded more deadpan than actually willing to ask him.

“… my minions did get to you, then?” A smile played on his lips and he stepped to the side, holding the door to the palace open. “Losing the grasp of proper etiquette so soon?”

She strode towards him, lips pressed into a thin line, but still stopped before him: “… it’s… not always repaid. The binding was… counterindicative and I apologise”

He put a finger under her bowed head and raised her head up: “All forgiven, angel. Lets see how we may help.” And figure out what she means with ‘this universe’.

[fantasy-fallacy-tumblingstone]

Day Thirteen Mini

Got this gem of an idea from the prompt list.  Another part of the Absinthe on my Lips fic.  Heh heh.

Cora gazed around the great hall of Downton Abbey, a large bag over one shoulder and a suitcase by her side.  She fiddled with the strap of her handbag, remembering how she’d just been here a few days before.

To say she was confused would have been an understatement.

“You’ve arrived safely then!”  Robert’s voice startled her out of her reverie.  Approaching her, he rubbed his hands together, grinning.  “It’s so grand that you’re here, Cora.”

Shaking her head, Cora fastened her eyes on his face, noticing how bright his blue eyes were in the natural light of the room.  “But, Robert, I don’t understand.  Why are we at Downton Abbey?”

His brows drew together.  “Well, this is where I live.  When I’m not at university, anyway.”

“You live here.  You live here?”  She stammered slightly while her mind endeavored to grasp this.  “If you live here then….  Oh, dear.  Are you related to Lady Grantham?”

Robert smiled again.  “Yes, that’s my mama.”

But Cora did not smile.  Instead she put a hand over her face, a moan escaping her lips.

“Er, Cora?  Are you alright?  What’s wrong?”  He came forward and touched her arm gently.

“It’s just –“  Uncovering her face, she took a deep breath.  “I’ve met your mother.  A few days ago.  Simon and I were here to see the paintings, and she showed us around.  I don’t think I made a very good impression.”

“Oh.  Well, I don’t see how it could have been that bad, Cora.  You’re such a lovely girl.”

Cora’s expression softened, a smile playing at her lips.  “That’s very sweet of you Robert.”  Moving her hand over his, she pressed it gratefully.  “But I don’t think she likes me.”

Robert let out a snort.  “She barely knows you.”

One of her eyebrows lifted.  “What little I know of her already leads me to believe that first impressions last with your mother.  And that she really doesn’t like Americans.”

“Well, we’ll just have to change her mind, won’t we?”  Robert bent a bit to pick up her suitcase, thinking, not that that has ever been an easy task – but electing to keep that part to himself.  “Let’s get you settled in your room, shall we?  Then I can show you around, if you’d like.”

Cora grinned and nodded.  “I’d like that very much, Robert.”

[smwc-thurs]

Powers week 14 Anonymous, the “group” of activists known for their Guy Fawkes masks and their penchant for anonymity, in my opinion are a largely a force of good in the world. I say “group” because there is no central structure to the group, they are a loosely structured and decentralized collection of individuals who operate on ideas rather than directives. As with any group, there are members who engage in questionable or less than legal activities, many people claim Anonymous is only a group for hackers, but for the most part they do strive to do good in world, exposing corruption, championing freedom, presenting the truth regardless of consequences, and generally trying to make the world a less shitty place one “operation” at a time. One of the things that makes Anonymous so difficult suppress or destroy, as many an official has tried, is that in order to be part of Anonymous you simply need to want to make a difference. While there are some members that are higher up in the community and engage in the actual acquisition and distribution of information, the setting up of protests, computer attacks, or making of videos for the public, there are no regular meetings of the group. There are no fees one must pay join, and there is no expectation to assist in any of the behind the scenes activities, some people may show up at the protests, some may give financial support, some may simply agree with the idea that we deserve the right of privacy in our lives without the ever present surveillance our government has so kindly employed in the last fifteen years. The only thing asked of a potential supporter is to stay vigilant and strive to never give up your freedom of privacy, your freedom of self. The fact there are countries like China or Russia where people's lives are so heavily controlled by their governments that you can be jailed for simply speaking harshly about it is just one of the many reasons Anonymous, who actively works against these forces, is an entity of good in the world. And should you view their actions as evil, they are still a necessary evil to combat the omnipresent threat of the censor. We are Anonymous. We are Legion. We do not forgive. We do not forget. Expect us.

[rvwix]

The homeless - are they all the same?

It’s very apparent that Lincoln has an issue with the amount of homeless people wandering the streets every day, so should we ignore the stereotypes and help them out?

Richard is quite well known in the city, and is mainly seen sitting on the Brayford just outside the Lucy Towers multi-storey car park. He sits there for hours at a time; his only companion and company is his dog Sticks. Richard is one of Lincoln’s homeless people. Does he fit society’s homeless stereotype? Hardly.

I personally don’t know Richard’s circumstances, or why he ended up on the streets, but what I do know is that he is one of the most polite humans I’ve ever met. He first came to my attention when I recognised him when he was in the queue behind me in McDonalds. I’d seen him the previous evening, sitting on the High Street, with Sticks sitting in his lap. I remember he went up to the counter, collected all of his change up in his hand, and politely asked for a cup of tea. Because that’s all that he could afford. I remember getting a sinking feeling in my chest, because no one should have to choose between a hot drink or a hot meal.

After that encounter, I kept seeing him all around the city, mainly around the High Street area. I’d be on my way to Tesco or Sainsburys, and I’d see him sitting there, his huge red backpack by his side and Sticks sitting in his lap. Every single time I would make sure I got him something to eat, and every time his eyes would light up and he wouldn’t stop thanking me. There have been times when I haven’t been on my way to the shops, and so I’d offer him some change instead. The amazing thing is that he will turn it down, and refuse to take it from me. This is really unusual.

The thing is, Richard doesn’t beg. He doesn’t bother anyone. He sits by the car park minding his own business and watching people walk by. And yet more people will donate to him, because he is a decent human being and many people stop and chat to him. So next time you see a homeless person,  think twice about judging them, and give them a helping hand.

  391 words, 10/03/2014

[river-buizel]

by ~Rocket0634

Official Title: No long Journal this month! Welcome to the month of Halloween! I've decided to not do a (long) journal this month due to reasons you may or may not find out, though there are a couple of things I wanted to mention. First off, I had two midterms and a paper in the past week. In short, I got a D on one midterm, and I need to do far better on papers because they are my weak points. I had my Math midterm yesterday, and I feel like I know exactly where I as right and where I probably got the wrong answer. Guess I like math because I can easily figure out where I went wrong.

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[spira-changmin]

Night&Marry. #ChangminFeels

Night~;

It's humorous in a way, that they've spent so many nights together like this - most likely even more than couples did, and yet it was the same routine every time; they'd meet, they'd kiss, they'd fuck and yet he'd never send her away or demand her to be gone by the next morning as he would any other woman; they'd cuddle, and it's ridiculously uncharacteristic of Changmin -- he hates proximity for too long, too often, dislikes it being present too much, but now it's alright, he's not bothered, somehow it's all alright as long as it's her.

She smiles in her sleep, he's noticed, and she sometimes mumbles words, almost incoherently, speaking of anything from her dislike of her boss to a craving for prawns, and sometimes she rolls over right into him, and he smiles through it all, he finds it endearing; he welcomes it. It's stupid, pointless -- he's got his work and she's got hers, they can never be, and yet it's nights like these that make him forget that fact completely as he wraps his arms around her and her warmth lulls him to sleep.

Marry~;

Changmin's unsure when exactly he'd decided he couldn't live without her but he's sure of the fact anyway, because somewhere in between not knowing how to love and promising himself not to leave himself vulnerable had Yui entered and ruined everything he'd very perfectly set up. It was more humorous because she wasn't anything glamorous or particularly desirable -- she'd been a whore, in fact -- and yet, somehow, she'd also become the woman he loved and wanted to spend his life with.

How was that for irony.

He'd never change his mind though, and he stood behind her, lips brushing her shoulder, fingers slowly unfastening each of the buttons along the spine of her white wedding dress, the stroke of midnight long gone, leaving them alone together in the dark hours of the night. He leans in, presses his lips to her earlobe; smiles, whispers her name, and when she hums in response he buries his face in the elegant curve of her neck and murmurs a quiet, barely audible; I love you.