That said: fireflydisconnected
This is my arm. Just got this finished today! 7 total hours over 3 sessions, 2 3 hour sessions and 1 1 hour session. Super happy with the way it came out.
The entire tattoo is composed of tiny dots other than the white on the inside of the circles. My tattoo artist is absolutely amazing.
Something has been stolen from me, and I don’t know how to get it back. People ask me all of the time how to make a relationship work. They look at Thom and I and they see a perfect relationship, but the truth is… I have no idea what I’m doing.
I love Thom, but I don’t think it’s in the traditional way that most people love others. I’ve been doing a great job at putting up this ‘normal’ front to trick my peers into thinking that I’m not a psychopath, but… it’s starting to crack. When I was taken all that time ago… changed… ‘A’ broke all in me that had the chance to be a normal… loving girl.
I didn’t think I’d be alive this long. I thought by now I’d be dead and I wouldn’t have had to do anything… wouldn’t be growing this child that I’m having difficulty feeling connection to. I look at Thom and I know that I love him… in my demented way- but I don’t think I’ve ever been loving… sweet. We’ve certainly never… y’know. Made lo… ugh- I can’t even say it, the term makes me want to throw up in my own mouth.
People ask me how to make a marriage work. I jokingly say blowjobs and sandwiches, which yes, is excellent… but when I think about it… when I -really- think about it… I’ve got no idea how to -really- love something. At least I don’t think I know how. I know that Thom is the best thing that has happened to me my entire life. I know that I will do anything to keep him. I’m just suddenly questioning if what I feel is… love… or need… or just wanting to lead a normal life. There are things that I want- things that he will never give me. Things that I’d never want for him to give me. Things I should never have had become accustomed to. I dream at night sometimes- visualizing what life would have been like without him… and I cry- feeling so guilty when I realize how happy I felt. How -free- I felt.
I don’t know what the conclusion of all of this is. I suppose there isn’t one. I have no idea what I’m doing. I have no real connection to… anyone or anything. This bump in my stomach just an inconvenient bump and one day I’ll have to learn to love whatever’s inside. I’m sick of pretending that everything is perfect though. … I built up this perfect life… constantly having to hide the fact that I’m still broken. … I desperately want to fix it. But how?
<As Harper awakens, whoever opens the front door first, finds a woven wicker basket. Inside are numerous packages and ornately carved fruit flowers of all colors and sizes. Freshly picked strawberries and blueberries and grapes line the floor of the basket and around it all is a solid black cloth. Mixed with the fruit-flowers are actual full-bloom roses in black, violet, red, gold, white, and indigo.
Magical and chemical analysis reveals no hidden curses, no secret poisons, nothing at all. It is exactly as it appears - a basket of fruit, flowers, and chocolate.>
Attached is a note:
Thom pissed off the wrong person. I’ve currently been living in my office because we got warning from Anastasia that Matthrian wants to kill him and will use me and the baby to get a step closer to that goal. I could go to the house in Claypool, no one knows where that is, but coming to work and then walking all of the way back there- the thought is exhausting. I wish I was in a condition where I could just go after the bastard myself and slit his throat.
My stomach has popped- I don’t know what’s up with this baby, but he’s huge. Thom does have a gigantic head, so I blame him. And if the baby is this big now- I still have four months of this shit to go. I bought new coats and bigger shirts. I can’t button my pants. And all I want to do is kill something. Thom snuck up on me yesterday while I was sleeping- I’ve been sleeping with a knife just incase and I slashed at him not realizing it was him. Drew blood. He’s so good- didn’t get weirded out when I started sniffing him. At least he didn’t tell me he was. I almost licked him. … that would have been too weird.
Angela was kidnapped, but then found. I felt bad- I hardly even noticed with all of the shit that has been going on. Maybe this Ministry idea wasn’t a good one. I like doing it, but I feel… like I don’t really belong in there. People keep calling me Lady Rathorn, which makes me crazy. I’m the furthest thing from a noble ever. I’m actually the only non-noble Minister. Even some of the secretaries look at me with an upturned nose because of my social status.
Whatever. I’m Harper Rathorn. Ashya. I am a Reaver. I am a wife, soon to be mother. And I will… get through it all. I wish I could just…slice someone up. Mmmm… that’d be amazing. To go on the hunt… stalk my prey…. bring them down and just rip them apart.
I am so…. so tired. So fucking tired.
People want me to be good- so I’m good. I am so fucking good I become a -Minister.- Not even a corrupt Minister. PROBABLY the most non-corrupt Minister up there. … Sorry to Angela, but her getting engaged to a Guardsman would count here. I’ve had a past, but since the day I committed myself to the job I’ve been by the book one hundred percent.
I wonder what I’d be doing if I was still with Aulwrak… with the Claw… if I still loved him like I did back then. It’s hard to admit that deep down in there somewhere I still have a special place for him. People would probably look at me like I had five heads. … I can’t help it though. Some people say that there’s always a special place in your heart for your first love.
… He was horrible to me. And perfect to me all in one. I don’t know how to describe it. Perfect in a way that was different than how Thom is perfect. Either way, no matter which I was to end up with, there would have been something lacking in my life. The love that Aulwrak could not return.. no matter how hard I tried. A ‘perfect’ life with Thom when every once in awhlie… I yearn for things I had in days past. I’ll take the life with Thom over anything, but I still just… miss the way things used to be sometimes.
I’ve been shot three fucking times. My husband has been shot once, fatally. And there is NOTHING I can do about it now but sit back and wait- watching the system take care of these problems for me. What I wouldn’t give to sneak into that quarry where that Charr is at night under the cover of darkness and slaughter that furbag that tried to murder my husband. Strangling her with her own tail, making her swallow her tongue and hanging her eyeballs from my belt. Her beautiful fur just thrown in the garbage to be chewed on and ruined by stink and bugs. Her horns turned into piano keys and meat donated to the poor and needy- she would make them a mighty feast.
I need to get out there. I need to -do- something. Cyril was lucky I didn’t cut him the other day when he suggested I should have fucked him instead of Thom. … Ugh.
I’m just frustrated.
I want to kill something. Anything. Anyone.
You like to think that you’re invincible and that you can take care of yourself. I suppose things can only look up for you for so long before you get shot three times. Literally, shot three times. … Fuck me.
I was standing and talking with Minister Sunstout. Joking around, giving her a trashy romance novel because I have a sneaking suspicion that she likes those sorts of tales. I wasn’t paying attention- heard the shots and leaped on top of her. A shot went in my arm as I leaped out of the way, one in hers. I tried to get up to turn and fight, but before I could get fully on my feet another two shots were fired, right into my ass and calf. … My -ass.- My beautiful ass had a bullet it in. And now I’m sitting here on a donut in my office.
It could have been worse. … I could have died. James…could have died. But I’m fine and he’s fine. I’m moving, slowly. I have a pair of crutches which I hate using. They are saying it’s the same Asura who has been going around shooting other people, which I wouldn’t be surprised about. Some people are saying that what happened is -Karma- for Thom ‘letting her go’ which just is not true at all. Proper procedure was to send the Asura back to Rata Sum for processing- which he did. Those that were supposed to bring her there decided they didn’t feel like it- let her go back into the streets. We had no idea she was even still here. Though… and let’s not tell Thom this. My inner Ashya wishes that he grabbed her and ripped her head off right on the spot when she was first brought in, knowing what I know now. I support him though, and we’ll see where things go.
… I want to go for a jog. Sitting here is making me crazy. Thom wanted me to stay home, but after an entire day of laying in bed, I had to get out. Popped a few painkillers and I’m good to make my way short distances.
I hope Angela is feeling okay- I know the Ministry Guard had to shoot her to take her down- both of us were apparently acting irrational and attacking the Guard after we were attacked. I couldn’t move with three bullets in me, but she ran off and started electrocuting people. … Is it bad that I wish I could have seen it? Seeing Cyril get electrocuted would have me me laugh… just a little bit.
We’re all fine. We’re alive. … That’s the good thing.
She was a Minister now- doing all sorts of interesting work. People stopped looking at her like she was a criminal and actually gave her this… respect. She had no idea how to react or talk to people, but she had to admit that it was nice. Things were going well for her. Until she saw the announcement.
Word has reached me today that Lieutenant Victus Brandt was killed. Currently details are unknown. What is known is the Lieutenant was killed in Garenhoff and then buried by a Priest of Grenth.
Make no mistake, every resource will be utilized in finding out what has transpired. Whatever has happened, it will be found out. If he was killed in action, then he died honourably. If he was murdered in cold blood, justice will be served to those who committed the act.
A new Lieutenant will be selected in the coming weeks. For the next week, all Guards are to wear black belts in remembrance of our fallen Lieutenant.
May Grenth Guide His Soul,
Commander Thomas Cyril
She’d stare at the letter left in her mailbox and start to shake, tears welling up in her eyes, shaking her head. She’d slump down behind her desk on the floor, crying for reasons that no one other than her could really understand. Though, she’d stop, blinking a few times- an idea hitting her.
He’s not dead. He -can’t- be dead. … He staged it! Of course he staged it.
Pen and paper would come out and Ashya began penning a letter to him, hoping that it would reach its desination.
… Please let this find you. You just… you got sick of being in the Guard. Pretending, right? … Right? You staged it. You must have. Meet me under the bridge. We’ll talk. You’ll tell me what you’re up to next. I’ll -help- you. You know I’ll help you. Just let me know you’re okay and I won’t tell a soul.
And she’d wait… praying possibly for the first time that she’d get some sort of response.
Was talking to Cyril the other day and brought up the fact that technically… Harper Rathorn has no criminal record. Not on paper anyway. He joked and said that I could do whatever I like now, even run for Minister.
… That’s not something you mention to someone like me casually. What do I do? I actually look into it. I am well within my legal right to run in my birth district. Unopposed. I’m being sworn-in this week.
I’m nervous. Really fucking nervous. Though… this may be childish, but I am looking forward to one thing. … I’ve got this little guilty pang of excitement for the day that I’m going to need to boss Victus around. Granted, it worked out that he dumped me after making lifetime commitments to someone else behind my back while I was in jail, but y’know. … I’m female I’m allowed to like these sorts of things.
But seriously- I’m looking forward to the work. Take all of this energy I’ve obtained over the past year… do something productive with it instead of doing things that hurt people- help people. Ignore the fact that I’ve been twitching to slice someone up recently. … Just ignore it.
Married. Pregnant. Minister. Who the fuck am I? I don’t really know anymore, but at the same time I don’t really mind it. All I can do is keep moving forward- no matter where that leads me.
I’m getting married tonight.
Thom and I have joked about it, and I’m not sure why it suddenly became so… serious. But we were laying in bed… just talking. I brought up the fact that it’s very possible that Blackclaw will come after us eventually, given our history. And… I just… asked him.
"Do you want to get married?"
He was so serious about it- no wavering in his voice or anything.
"Let’s do it soon. … Just incase we can’t later on."
I’m not even wearing a dress or anything. I don’t think I’ve ever worn a dress in my life. It’s small. Schuyler is going to be my… Maid of Honor for lack of a better term. He seemed to like the idea. Anastasia got excited about it, maybe more excited than me. Thom told a few of the people he served with to show up. Cyril is performing it… which he didn’t seem happy about at all, but agreed to.
It’s all kind of… strange. Who would have ever guessed this is where I’d find myself after this past year. I feel like I’m not even sure any of this is real. I’m not complaining though.
… Let’s all hope I don’t stab Thom during the ceremony.