#finding refuge

[theseasonofnow]

Finding Refuge

Refuge-a condition of being safe or sheltered from pursuit, danger, or trouble. One of the advantages of growing up and living in a place like Maine is the connection you develop to the locations you come in contact with, which provide you with a relationship to nature and a link to who you are and what your life stands for. There are many unique places I have connected with over the years, and…

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[theobviousparadox]

Review: Finding Refuge by Victorya Krouse

Review: Finding Refuge by Victorya Krouse

Finding Refuge: Real-Life Immigration Stories from Young PeopleVictorya KrouseZest BooksPublished September 7, 2021 Amazon | Bookshop | Goodreads About Finding Refuge What is a refugee? This anthology recounts the personal immigration experiences of teenage refugees from around the world, including where they came from, why they left, how they arrived in the United States, and what happened…

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[brother-hermes]

“Not many people will actually put in the intellectual work to 

find out about God.

Those who do put in work will take a long time to come to 

knowledge of God.

And that knowledge of God will be mixed in with 

error about him as well.”

-St. Thomas Aquinas

[rocket-remmy]

Finding Refuge|| Lydia and Remmy

TIMING: The other night, after Remmy left the Haunted Mansion PARTIES: @inspirationdivine and @whatsin-yourhead SUMMARY: Remmy moves in with Lydia, seeking comfort and a safe haven. CONTENT: Mentions of dismemberment, Depression, PTSD

Lydia smoothed the lily blue sheets down. All the cushions were set, there were fresh flowers by the bedside, and the separate ensuite bathroom was clean with fresh soap. Lydia didn’t have any meat suitable for a zombie, but she could have it delivered by morning if that was needed. She glanced at her phone, but nothing new had come in from Remmy. Not that that meant anything. Perhaps Lydia should have been more concerned about the slayer Remmy needed hiding from coming here, but Slayers were human, and they died like them too. If need be. Satisfied with the state of this particular guest bedroom, Lydia walked along the hall, just in time to spot Remmy approaching through the window. Lydia touched her bandanna, just to check it was still in place, and swung open the door. “Come on in, darling.”

Remmy hadn’t wanted to pack up their life and move, but staying there put Nora and Blanche in danger. And if they saw the collar, they would try to do something, and Remmy couldn’t risk that. Lydia would be safer. She was a public figure, and she had some sense of power. Even Remmy knew Jax wouldn’t mess with a person like that. They just hoped she didn’t ask too many questions. Remmy fiddled with the collar for a moment. It looked normal enough to pass off as some sort of necklace or choker, but that didn’t make the dread they had about it dissipate any easier. Any wrong move and it would electrify even them. It was special, Jax had said, it could hurt-- kill-- even a zombie. One wrong move, that’s all it took. And so, with their entire life packed in a few bags, and Moose by their side, Remmy had arrived at Lydia’s. She opened the door before they even knocked and they looked up at her with somehow tired eyes and a smile to match. “Th-thanks,” they said, heading in. Moose resisted only slightly as they passed through the doorway, whining once before Remmy tugged on his lead. “I, um-- I just kinda brought all my stuff.”

Lydia stepped aside to let Remmy in, and as they passed, she scrutinised them. The new necklace was hardly an avant-garde look, indeed, it looked rather punishing. Not that Remmy looked any better themselves. They always looked dead, of course, but there was a dullness to their eyes, tension in their shoulders. The way they walked, held themselves. It looked like resignation. Lydia eyed the dogs, but knew better than to touch or distract a service dog. “I have plenty of space,” she replied softly, walking them through her home to the downstairs guest bedroom she’d just finished setting up. Do you or, well, Moose need anything?”

The house was large and lavish. Remmy had been there once before, but blinded by their distress, they hadn’t taken much time to look around. This time, however, all they could do was look. It was the only thing distracting them from the worry creeping through their bones. Light trickled in through large windows, art lined almost every inch of the house, but in such a way that Remmy never felt overwhelmed. The floors in the entryway were marble, not that Remmy could really tell the difference, as they stepped from it onto the tile and into the hallway. They held their bags close, and Moose closer, as they made their way to the bedroom, pausing in awe for a moment. The haunted mansion was big, by all means, but it had never felt like this. Large. Inside and out. “This is...you live here all by yourself?” they finally said, looking back at Lydia before heading inside to set their stuff down. Itched at the base of their neck before remembering, pulling their hand away. “It’s-- I-- oh, n-no, not right now, thank you. Um...this is enough.”

“I love the space,” Lydia grinned, forever house proud. She loved being able to look out into the garden from half the house, seeing passing by pixies or gnomes whenever they wanted to drop by. She loved too, the promise of transparency. Here was someone who had nothing to hide - look at how much of her home you could see into. And she loved moments like this, where she could use it to help someone who needed it. She looked to them, her smiled fading as they itched at the necklace. Choker, or perhaps collar, were better words. “Remmy, I don’t expect you to tell me everything that’s happened, but if you’re in danger, and especially if any might follow you here, I need to know.”

The view of the garden distracted Remmy for a moment. They’d never been in such a nice home, they felt oddly out of place in their torn jeans and baggy shirt and eye patch. They glanced back at Lydia, rubbing their hand across their face as if that could wipe the weariness away, too. “I-I’m not! I pr--” they started, stopped. “I’m not in danger anymore. It-- I just-- a-a lot happened. Something…” they looked down at their legs, as if reminding themself they were still there, they were still whole, “I got really hurt. I-I know I’m a zombie and I heal, but that doesn’t-- I still feel the pain from it sometimes and it...no one’s…” they sank onto the bed, shivering, “no one’s ever home and I didn’t feel...I don’t feel safe. The hunter knows I live there and he...I didn’t feel safe there anymore.” They looked up. “But he doesn’t know about you! O-or that I’m here. No one does.”

Silently, Lydia came to sat next to them, not touching, but offering her hand in case Remmy wanted it. She ignored the almost promise, whatever trip there was there. Her firm expression faded to something softer, and kinder. “Alright, Remmy. I trust you. If it changes, there are things that can be done about hunters, or anyone else that’s causing you troubles. I only need to know.” She almost went to touch Remmy’s shoulders, but paused. There was no way for her to know where the pain was, and she didn’t want to make it worse. “I will keep you as safe as I can, my dear, and I’m usually home. If at any point you need comfort or company, that’s what I’m here for. I’m so sorry you’ve suffered so much, my love.”

For a moment, Remmy almost believed Lydia. That whatever she was capable of, she could take care of their problem. Hands tightened in their lap, and they glanced over to the one that Lydia offered. Almost went to take it, but recoiled. They didn’t know if Lydia would be able to feel the pain, too, if the shock from the collar would hurt her, too. The constant low hum of its pain always reminding them of what they were and where they were bound. They nodded slowly. “It’s-- it’s not your fault. It just...I’ll be okay,” they lied quietly, wondering if it sounded as transparent as it felt. “I just need time.” Time to figure out what to do, how to keep their friends safe, how to get away-- or if they should just let the Ring have them. Become another smear on the floor there. They looked over at Lydia. “Thank you, f-for always being here for me. I-I know you don’t have to be, and I”m not like-- like you. But, I just-- thank you. For making me feel...less alone.”

Lydia put her hand back on her lap, her gaze shuttering. “Don’t lie to me,” she said, her voice soft but only in the way snow was - veering on the edge of icy. “I won’t ask much of you, but do not lie, especially not so poorly.”  When Remmy looked at her, though, the corners of her lips shifted ever so slightly. “No, you’re not like me,” Lydia agreed, “I’m not always sure that’s such a bad thing. You’re not alone, Remmy, and you certainly don’t have to be.” 

Remmy stiffened at the change in Lydia’s voice, shrinking into themself. She had that same authoritative tone that most of their lieutenant’s and supervisors had, but it was somehow softer and sharper at the same time. “I-- I didn’t--” but they did, and they had, and Remmy felt an enormous pang of guilt. “It’s just...it’s complicated.” Were they putting Lydia in danger by being here? Did she deserve to know? “It’s not-- it’s a hunter. But I-- if I was putting you in danger by being here, w-would you want me to leave?”                                  

“It is always complicated.” Lydia replied, looking Remmy in the eye. They were, in so many senses, an open book. The guilt that flashed on their face echoed in Lydia, but it didn’t change the insult of the lie. Even as she learned it stretched beyond what Lydia had already said.  “If you’re endangering me with your presence, I would want to have the choice. If the danger is that tomorrow a meteor will crush you to death, I might object to being in the vicinity. An individual, on the other hand, can be managed, while a crowd with pitchforks cannot.”

Remmy shrunk a little more as Lydia looked them in the eye. They’d never been good at meeting peoples’ gazes, even less so now with only one eye to look at them back with. Shoulders taught, they looked away. “It’s-- I was-- I was in a fight. And the--” they struggled, feeling that churning in their stomach, the feeling when they tried to tell Jax they wanted out. “I can’t tell you all of it. But it-- this monster, it--” their vision blurred again as they looked down at their feet. Flashed back to the ring, laying on the floor, their legs tossed somewhere they couldn’t see, blood and viscera and insides smeared below them. “I-It r-r-ripped me in h-half. And I-I dd-don’t wanna b-be alone. And no one is h-home a-anymore,” they stuttered, tears racing down their cheeks again. “I-I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry.”

Can’t, or won’t? That was the age old question with non-fae, no matter who they were. To Lydia, the words were worlds apart, while to Remmy they could be almost interchangeable. Tonight, Lydia wouldn’t try to uncover that distinction, as she watched Remmy crumble once more, like they had last time, when they’d turned Morgan. On the light blue sheets, Remmy came apart, like whatever they’d healed and grown hadn’t come back right. Lydia didn’t reply, not right away. Instead, she sighed softly, her shoulders losing their rigidity, her brows losing their frown. Lydia put her hand on Remmy’s shoulder, slumped and shaky. She slid it along their back, curled with their weight of their grief, to their other shoulder. She shifted, and tugged ever so gently, until Remmy was in her arms entirely, held against her chest. Remmy hadn’t answered, but then Lydia hadn’t truly asked, had she? Whatever danger came, she’d deal with it for now, offer Remmy a barricade. A safe place to call home, where they could be held, and heard, for now. 

[thestoriesincoffeestainsx]

[Finding Refuge]

Alaska wouldn’t expect her to add the last name night bc it’s a mouthful. She’d leave it up to Ryne, who would go with Statten; the first half of her name is her mom’s family, second half is her dad’s.

Kyle would rethink things. Probably consider going back to the CG as a training officer (via H)

Alaska considers teaching. She’d be a published author at the time Ryne is born.

This is the night they almost say I love you. Alaska would tell him she wnats to do something big before he leaves. Something permanent, so no matter where they end up, they’re permanent in each other’s lives (via J).

Ryne has to watch Oliver and Co before bedtime; she refuses to sleep otherwise. Stubborn like her mother (via J)

Kyle can be stubborn just not when it comes to Alaska or Ryne (via H)

In high school, she needs control in her life and plays by the rules bc of it. When her emotions start to numb, around the time she gets reassigned to crime beat, she needs risk thrill, to feel something.

Alaska has always been outspoken, but her comments start to get meaner at this time

This is the first time she and Kyle have been apart so long

If she’s at the shooting range too much as well

Her behavior is only chaotic if she’s not controlling the amount of exposure

She won’t drink; mother was an borderline alcoholic

Kyle will be patient and break down her walls every time he comes back. He would take leave to watch her and join her at the shooting range to get her to open up, so she remembers someone cares about her.

She’ll dislocate his shoulder before she gets in the water

[a-muse-a-dozen-arch]

[thestoriesincoffeestainsx]

[Finding Refuge]

@a-muse-a-dozen

“She won’t be here for awhile Ali…” He mutter gently against her hair before kissing the top if Alaska’s head, “We aren’t ready right now, but one day when we are these fears…they won’t be as scary.”

---

“Kyle?” Alaska didn’t look up from the book she was reading, though her eyes had been skimming over the same line for the past ten minutes. Her thoughts had whipped through her mind like a hurricane, dizzying, maddening, until the storm found a sense of calm. It had been a topic that Kyle never pressed, not after the night she’d shared her worries, her nightmares. He’d been patient. Now, they were married, happy, their friendship blossoming beyond what anyone could have foreseen. 

“Hm?” Though Alaska didn’t lift her gaze, she could see Kyle lift his head from the corner of her eyes. It was difficult not to look towards him, not to see every mingled emotion cross his face as she spoke, but Alaska remained calm, her voice like a lullaby. 

“I think I’m ready to have a baby with the man I love,” she told him. Alaska couldn’t help it; her poker face fell, a wide smile crossing her lips and placing vibrant sparks in her eyes. Kyle had shown her, over the past year, that there was no reason for her worries. Their child wouldn’t grow up the way they had; they would work as a team--as they always did--to make sure of it. Alaska lifted her chin, her eyes locking with Kyle’s.

He didn’t respond, and at first Alaska wondered if he hadn’t heard it. Then, with the same warm joy he’d had as a teen, he chuckled, donning a smile that matched hers. Kyle leaned forward and captured her cheek in his hand, pulling her in for a loving kiss; a match to cold kerosene, warming her veins with love’s inferno blaze.

“What changed your mind?” he asked, resting his head against hers. Alaska knew it was a chapter of their story Kyle had always wanted to pursue, but she hadn’t been ready. Not until now, not until...

“You.”