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Holy's Short Shorts (LMS)



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Tue Feb 07, 2017 1:09 am
Holysocks says...



ALAS this year I'm finally going to participate in the Last Man Standing competition! I'm TERRIFIED. I'm doing short stories, as a warrior, and i still don't know what my theme is going to be. I'm going to have to think about that some more because otherwise I'll be completely doomed.

Are you EXCITED? I am.
Last edited by Holysocks on Sat Feb 11, 2017 12:33 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Tue Feb 07, 2017 6:00 pm
Holysocks says...



There was a power outage this morning, so I actually sat down and thought up some ideas that I might want to do as themes for my short stories. Reading the ideas Tenyo had helped me come up with some of these.

(The one's bolded are my favourite ones)

Theme Ideas:

1. The scene of the story always takes place by a certain tree and/or lake.

2. The stories have a recurring character as MC (possibly reincarnated character; in which case we're doing one of TESLA. yus.)

3. Stories that a grandfather/grandmother/mother/father/character is telling to someone- might be fairy tales or legends or stories from their youth.

4. Fortune teller telling the story of what's yet to come for people(possibly just makes it all up, and possibly something like a dragon or magical creature I make up that can tell people's future- like a magical rock or something that can talk, instead of a fortune teller. Mwahahaha.). It would get told as if the person was there, though, like any other story.

5. People's stories before they get killed by a specific serial killer.
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Tue Feb 07, 2017 10:33 pm
Holysocks says...



I'm playing with the idea of doing #4 on my theme list... AND so I wanted to do some brainstorming.

The Fortune Teller/Wise Willow:

Spoiler! :
There IS going to be a tree where this creature lives that will tell you your future. She's old but looks young /beautiful(or ugly- haven't decided yet)/acts young (kinda like my own little fae creature). People come to her to learn about their future. Depending on her mood, she'll either: tell you the future, make up a tale/lie about your future to mess with you (or so you won't know you're about to die in three days or something, 'cause that wouldn't be fun news to break someone, and that really depends on her mood), make people do something BEFORE she tells them their future, OR she eats them- or feeds them to her potentially carnivorous tree-house, I'm not sure yet if I want this lady to actually eat people herself, as that's kinda gross.

She has a lover that sometimes appears- he's a an adorable, nerdy, earthling who has a tiny piece of her gift of forsight every once in awhile. Generally when she wants to see him she'll send him a leaf. She lives in some sort of other realm, and he lives on earth. I guess I might have the wise willow (still trying to think of a better title/creature name/or just name for her) play with magic/black magic a bit because I don't want her to be overly purple, which is what it's kinda getting to if I keep adding onto her abilities. Or, I might play the "fate made it that way" card, but spruce it up a bit because that sounds so cliche and corny! XP
Last edited by Holysocks on Sun Feb 12, 2017 9:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Fri Feb 10, 2017 4:04 am
Holysocks says...



The creatures name will be Lemence, I think. And scrap the "wise willow" name I think. I want people to refer to Lemence as "the Fifths Season" or something more intriguingly put than that. They'll refer to her as that because she seems to have a weird resistance to the seasons, which is why when she sends her lover, Kent, leaves as sort of "invitations" to visit her, they're either always opposite of what the season on earth is. So if it's fall, there will be a bright green spring leaf from her, if it's winter there will be a healthy full-grown leaf from her, if it's spring there will be a turning leaf- so yellow, orange, or red, and if it's summer the leaf will be dead, and possibly frozen.

I'm still not sure what kind of tree to do. I don't want to use an overly common tree, like a maple or oak tree, and a willow is too common in literature or cliche and also doesn't really have the big-leaves I want. So I'm going to have to look up trees and see if I can find a lovely one for the job.
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Sun Feb 12, 2017 8:41 pm
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Holysocks says...



Lareine made this cover for me:

Image

:3
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Wed Feb 15, 2017 7:01 pm
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Holysocks says...



The Fifth Season #1


Title: Murdering Murder
Words: 1,060

Spoiler! :
Her eyes glinted at me under the moonlight from her perch on steady oaks limb. I'd travelled over mountains and through desert, and peeked under oceans in search of this creature. My fingers trembled in anticipation.

"Ma'am," I said, hoping with every ounce of my being I wouldn't accidentally offend the creature.

"Yes?" She said, her voice soft and distant.

"I've come a long way- I suppose you know why I'm here?" I said.

"I suppose." The creature said, pausing,"I haven't had a visitor in awhile." She leaned forward and lay with her stomach pressed to the thick tree branch, her chin resting against the rough bark. "Refresh me." she whispered.

I took a deep breath in, a little shocked that she needed reminding. It felt a bit like telling a cashier that they're supposd to ring you through.

"Well," I began, "I was told you tell stories of the future."

"How fancy," she said. "Go on."

"And I was wondering..." I continued, "if you wouldn't mind telling me a bit about... mine?"

"Would I?" She pursed her lips, gazing down at a pebble through heavy lashes. For a long moment she said nothing, and then: "Do you like scary stories, Rachel?" she asked.

***

The evening was thick- it wasn't mist, it wasn't even that dark, it was just thick. Rachel felt as though she was being strangled, and had the urge to undue the top buttons of her coat. It was Autumn but seemed more like a hot summer evening and Rachel wished she'd dressed lighter. But she had quickly pulled on some jeans and tucked her night-shirt into them in case she ran into anyone, and, while on the phone with Monica, scrambled out of her apartment and locked the door- or at least, she thought she had locked the door. She couldn't quite remember. There hadn't been time to think about anything except what Monica was saying, and was saying to Rachel.

"Dear, you'll be fine." Rachel said, trying to act as calmly as possible. They always said not to panic- panicking is bad, you have to stay calm at these times, you have to keep your head. "Monica, honey, I have to hang up so I can call the polic-" there was a pause as her friend cut her off. "Oh I know," said Rachel, "but we have to call the police!" Another pause, "It's not a robber?" Rachel stopped her brisk walk for a moment to press the cell closer to her ear. "How can you tell?" Rachel asked, and then paused, and then, "M-Monica? Are you there? Monica?"

Rachel pulled her phone away from her ear, glaring at the screen, Call Ended it read. "damn it!" she said, stowing her phone in her jacket pocket and breaking out into a full-on run.

The street lights linked overhead, and the odd car rumbled by her. No one seemed to realize what was happening. There has to be a way to do this differently, Rachel thought. When she reached Monica's house, she could see only a faint light on inside.

Please be okay, she prayed, please, please, please.

Rachel went to the back of the house, where she knew the bathroom was and thus, the bathroom window. Monica had been hiding in the bathroom while on the phone, and Rachel hoped that her shoulders would fit through the frame- or her hips for that matter. She tried to peer in the bathroom window but was too short. She cursed silently and was about to go to the back-door when she noticed something. A faint shadow from in the light the street lights cast on her.

"Well this is sad." someone said from behind her.

Rachel didn't want to know who it was, and stayed, staring longingly up at the bathroom window. Finally she turned to look. A tall, lanky figure stood there. All she could see of his sillouwetted face was his glowing-white teeth, posed in a grin.

"I'm sorry," he said, "is this a bad time?"

Rachel tried not to think of who it was. She knew it was him, she knew because he'd just come for Monica. And Rachel had been crazy enough to think she could save Monica from Death-himself-- or a close relative of Death; Death's cousin, Murder.

Rachel sighed, then said: "Well, I was planning on going to bed sometime tonight. I guess that's not going to happen now."

Murder leaned against the house, his grin seemed to widen if that were even possible. "We could do this then?" he said.

Though dying in her sleep sounded a little less painful, Rachel thought, how exactly was she supposed to fall asleep knowing Murder was about to take her? Plus, she had some questions for him.

"What did you do to Monica?" She asked, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"Monica?" he said, confused.

"The woman who owns this house." Rachel said. She couldn't believe he didn't even know the name of his victim.

"Ohhh, I thought this was Trudy's house." he said, "My mistake."

Rachel's jaw-dropped. "You went to the wrong address?"

"Mm, I guess so." he said.

Rachel took a step closer to him and pointed an accusing finger at his chest. "You got the wrong address, and you murdered the wrong person? You murdered my friend? Acci-freaking-dentally?"

Murder pursed his lips and nodded. "Oops."

Without another word, Rachel took hold of Murder's jacket, and flung him into the side of the house. "I will kill you." Rachel said. "Once I get my hands on a knife or something I will end your pretty face."

"You can't kill me, dear." he said, laughing. "I'm death's cousin! You kill me, you kill yourself."

Rachel glared at him, and said "Well then, I'll just have to kill him too."

***

Tears rolled down my face as I stared at her. "That's it? Can't you tell me more?"

She slid off the branch lazily, and took a few steps toward me. "There's not much more to tell." she said.

"Well do I succeed? Is Monica really dead?" I asked, my voice sounded panicky even to me and it made me feel like an idiot.

"Monica isn't dead, yet." she said, "and as for whether or not you succeed, well... that depends on whether you want to be Death or not."
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Sun Feb 26, 2017 7:58 am
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Holysocks says...



The Fifth Season #2


Title: How to Play With Fire
Words: 1,110

Spoiler! :
The imp kisses me on a skyscraper
(the one daddy told me not to play on)
I blink twice and a half
Recording the view
From the tear in the clouds
My imp presses his soul between my lips and chin
And grins at me
That devilish grin
That sour-patch-kid smile
it leaves my mouth tingly
Wanting more
Even though the thought-
it’s burning my tastebuds
and

She came in a flurry of wind, interrupting my writing. Her hair was tousled like a bird’s nest with leaves and twigs woven throughout, and her eyes were wide, as if she’d seen a million kiltless Scots.

“I need your help,” she said, gasping for breath.
I was a little confused, in all my time dating the Fifth Season, nobody ever came asking for my help. No one visited me on Earth let alone when I was at her place. AKA the ‘other’ realm. So I assumed this wind-swept-lass wanted Lemence’s help, not, in fact, my own. Unfortunately, the Fifth Season was out, doing whatever she did when she went away. She most likely was cheating on me, I know.

“Uhh, with…?” I said, leaning against the non-willow.

She stared at me like I was crazy (which, I mean, may or may not have been true). “...with reading my future!” she said, with a tone that I didn’t particularly like.

“Ahh,” I said, “I forgot I could do that!” I was a little curious when she’d realize that I myself, was not, in fact, the Fifth Season, and decided to find out just how far down the rabbit hole I could take her before she caught on. “What do you want to know?” I asked. “Your future’s kinda a mess; all over the place, really. You should tidy it more often. Say no to more things, geez-ah-lah-weez!!”

She stared at me for several moments, blinking.

“Well?” I said, “What do you want to know?” This wasn’t going to work if I didn’t get a little more information out of her.

She sighed and hung her head, as if defeated somehow. “You probably know, but I’m the fire everyone’s been talking about. The forest fire.”

I had to stop myself from swearing, and pursed my lips, trying to look like I knew exactly what she was talking about. “Yes, yes.” I said.
“I’m here because… I’m scared,” she said, “I’m scared I’ll die.”

Guilt stabbed me in the heart- this one wasn’t like the others, she might actually need help. She might actually need to know her future. But then, if I’d learnt anything from being here, and watching Lemence do her thing, it was that telling people their future, for the most part, was a complete waste of time. No one could really do anything to stop what they found out about themselves, unless they got super creative, and most people just left feeling more depressed and helpless than when they showed up.

I thought about stopping what I was doing, telling this lovely lady that Lemence was out and that she’d have to wait to hear about her future. But I was too curious and still bristled from her tone, and I just REALLY wanted to try my hand at this whole ‘wise-swamp-fae’ thing.

“Go on,” I said, gesturing for her to continue.

“...Well, can you tell me if I’m going to die?” she asked.

“Shelly,” I said.

“My name’s not Shelly, it’s Ten.” she said.

“Ohhh, my mistake; I’m mixing you up with someone that was here earlier.” I said. I scratched the side of my head, not believing my own luck that I’d managed to coax her name out of her without asking.

“Ten, right, okay,” I said, “there’s really nothing I can do for you unless you… you see, in your future… there’s a LOT of possibilities where you die. Which one are you curious about? The one where you cook yourself from the inside out, the one where your ex seeks vengeance after you burn his favourite sweater, or-”

“You see all that?” she said, her voice so high and her eyes so wide.

I sighed and said, “Yes, Ten, yes I do.” Lemence was going to be so irritated if she found out I was playing with the fire. My parents, too, would kill me- I distinctly remember them telling me: don’t play with matches. I was certainly playing with matches. No question about it. I was going to die- probably in a similar way to what I’d described her deaths being.

This was a bad idea.

“Can you tell me about the more recent one?” she said.

“The one where you trip on a stone on your way out and into the pond?” I asked.

“Err, no.” she said, taking a few conscious steps away from the swamp. “Don’t tell anyone,” she said, “but I’m planning a forest fire- people are guessing but no one knows for sure.”

I never realized what a great place for gossip Lemence had- all these people coming, telling her about the juicy details of their lives- or rather, her just knowing, because, I mean, she actually can see that crap, unlike me, the boring mortal.

“You’re worried about the fire?” I asked.

“No,” she said, “I’m worried that someone will put my fire out. I’m worried they’ll put me out. It’s terrifying. So so udderly terrifying.”

A knot twisted in my stomach. This poor creature. She trembled as she spoke, and tears began leaking from her eyes. I couldn’t do this anymore, I couldn’t keep messing with her. So I walked over to her and wrapped her in my arms.

“People may try to put the fire out,” I whispered in her ear, “but no one will put your fire out.” I felt her relax and she took a deep breath in. I let her go and we looked at one another for a moment, a long moment, really seeing each other, appreciating each other.

“You take care,” I said, breaking the silence. “Have fun with the forest fire, and remember what I said.”

“I won’t forget it.” she said, turning around and disappearing into the trees.

After awhile I went back to writing my poem, sitting on a log by the pond as I did so.

The imp loves me,
He loves me not,
The imp loves me.

Then I heard the familiar footsteps of the one and only, Fifth Season.

“What are you writing?” she said, inches away from my ear.

I folded the paper my poem was on, and slipped it in my jean’s pocket, and said “Oh, just a genderbent love poem about you and me.”
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Wed Mar 01, 2017 11:55 pm
Holysocks says...



Uhhh not sure what to do for the third part/story so I figured I'd "brainstorm" a bit here. Maybe I'll get some ideas.

I kinda want to write one about Death coming to Lemence now, but I'm not really feeling it... at all. So I think I want to do one that's a lot more... bringing out Lemence's character or something. Henghhh. Oh, I just got an idea to do one where Lemence can't read the person's future. Hmm. Maybe I'll try that.
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Mon Mar 06, 2017 6:08 am
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Holysocks says...



The Fifth Season #3


Title: Pyrophobia
Words: 1,049

Spoiler! :
Needles pricked my fingers as I lay on the ground, my entire body tense. Kent lay beside me, his eyebrows scrunched and biting his lower lip.

"Did you see this coming?" he whispered.

"No." I said, letting my forehead rest on the ground between my hands.

"How the hell not?" Kent asked.

He looked exhausted, the orange light of flames flickered on his face. I liked to think of him as a goofball. I liked to think of him like he needed me, like I was the glue, like I was indifferent whether or not I had him in my life. But right then I needed that sun of a brilliant man more then anything.

"I'm not sure," I said, so quietly I wasn't sure if he'd actually hear me. I don't know what he wanted me to tell him.

He looked like he was about to scream in frustration but then his eyes softened. "You look scared," he said, his voice unsure himself. He had no clue how hard I was trying not to tremble, my fingertips digging into the soil.

It had been ages since a forest fire. I hadn't even heard chatter about the fire, let alone seen this in our future. I could have seen it in my future, Kent's future, the trees future. The print of the future should have been on everything so why I hadn't seen it made no sense at all. But now, was there anything I could do? The non-willow would surely wither into a heap of ash, Sorian would carry her away to her burial at the sea. But then what about all the futures I'd seen before? The ones with the non-willow bent over a basket of saplings, all of them ready to learn from her and all of them eager to grow. Then the ones of Kent humming to a pudgy-cheeked, cross-eyed, wonder, who'd be fast asleep in his arms-- though it was hard sometimes to tell day-dreams from visions. It was almost embarrassing how much I liked the thought of Kent cradling a newborn, though he'd probably end up droping it on it's head and we'd have to replace it with something- like, oh yes, a sapling- that would probably be more - in his words - our speed.

Fingers brushed my back. I could feel the urgency in his touch we have to go it screamed. There's no time to be afraid. These are words I thought I'd be telling him- I'd normally be telling him in a situation like this, but somehow briefly we'd switched roles. Come on his touch pleaded. I pulled my head up out of the dirt and stared at him for just a moment, just a fleeting moment while I tried to figure out which part of him I was looking at- then his lips gently tickled my cheek, and I realized it was his jaw that was in view. His beautiful jaw that I didn't take enough time to appreciate most days. Most days I just kissed him to keep him happy and I'd forget that actually, I was the one that found him- I was the one that fell first, I was the one that wanted this.

He kissed down my neck and to my shoulder, and then cupped my face in one hand, and lightly pressed his lips to mine. A jolt of electricity blazed through me, and I kissed back, pressing into him.

"This is the worst time to be doing this," I whispered.

Kent didn't seem to notice or care, his fingertips were rubbing a circle on my shoulder as he kissed me again. He was right, this was the right time. If only these things happened at more appropriate times. Is this even Tuesday?

I pulled away, suddenly realizing something that would either kill us or keep us alive; we couldn't both be Kent. We couldn't both kiss and pray and lay there as our lives burnt in a blaze- I had to be me. Thankfully he'd stopped thinking long enough for me to realize that I was being ridiculous.

"Did you have garlic for lunch?" I asked. A smirk pulled at his lips.

"I like it," I said, hopping to my feet.

I took a moment to access the damage of the fire. It was still there, eating away at the trees, and a little closer than last I'd checked. I muttered a curse but kept my mind firmly on the issue. Where were those people who owed me favours when I needed them? Where was that weather-controlling, raccoon-faced, pretzel when you needed the dinky bastard? I tugged at my hair and glanced back at Kent. He was standing now, staring at me, hoping, possibly pleading, that I knew what I was doing. I really really really hoped so too but it was far too early to tell.
"You," I said nodding at Kent, "You get to talk to her."
I could see through his eyes straight to his mind where he was uttering every swear word he knew.
"You'll do perfectly fine." I said, concentrating on the fire again. "She likes you."
Kent's eyebrow shot up, "what do you mean she likes me?" he said, folding his arms against his chest.
It was starting to make sense now. The touch from Kent had helped bring clarity to my mind again.
"You knew." I said, "don't play dumb." I bit my lip but pretended to chew it instead, as if it were a piece of tobacco. I could feel the warmth of the fire on my face- or maybe it was my burning cheeks. What exactly had the two of them done together? What exactly was this? Was this a plot? Was she burning my home down, burning me down, so Kent and her could elope? Without having to worry about the wrath or revenge of the fifth season? My stomach knotted and I felt like puking.
Kent must have saw the look on my face because his voice got low and almost threatening- sometimes I wondered if he pocessed a tiny piece of my ability.

"You know I would never hurt you." I'm not even sure if he meant to say it to me but the wind carried it to my ear, betraying him.


To be continued, I guessss.
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Sun Mar 12, 2017 5:56 pm
Holysocks says...



The Fifth Season #4


Title: Visions of Heaven
Words: 1,012

NOTE: this does NOT follow after the last story. In fact, I'm not sure that any of these are in any sort of straight-forward time-line... except maybe #2 and #3 are in a sort of order.

Spoiler! :
Lemence made her way down the narrow woodland path. She walked so far that eventually there was no path at all, and instead an unknown wilderness. Somedays she didn't return home to the non-willow for weeks at a time, endlessly wandering, forgetting who she was, and what was expected of her.

Even this time Lemence didn't look like she was going anywhere in particular, stopping here and there to look at a certain large bolder or tree, or bit of fungus that she hadn't seen before. This time she still made detours, and to someone that didn't know Lemence it would have looked like she wasn't going in any particular directions for any particular reason, and may have been surprised when she arrived at a little cave and knocked on the wall signalling her arrival. Someone also may have found it interesting to know that this was a planned destination- even if you asked Kent, he would have told you Lemence never made house-calls.

"You're here," said Elwin, one of the very last Great Bears- there were only five of them left including Elwin, and several of them had locked themselves away from society, determined to live the rest of their lives in peace, and die without anyone causing a bit ruckus.

Lemence just smiled in response to the Great Bear, and great friend. She took a few steps closer to the bear, and sat on a bolder in front of her mussel.

"You weren't supposed to come," Elwin said, her voice soft and distant, more so than Lemence had ever heard it. It was usually a steady rumble that vibrated the bones.

"Yes I was," Lemence said rather awkwardly. She hated being on the answering side of conversations. She liked keeping people on their toes, being the one that laid down the rules instead of following them. Rules were fun to make, but a pain to follow.

"Why wouldn't I come?" Lemence said.

"I didn't say you wouldn't come, I said you weren't supposed to," Elwin let her head fall with a heavy thump to the cave floor. She was laying down already and looked terrible. Her fur was patchy and made Lemence think of a coyote carcuss she found by the pond once. Her eyes drooped closed and Lemence slid off her bolder and knelt by the creature.

"Why didn't you ask me to come?" Lemence asked, her voice caught on the last word. She lay a hand on the bear's face, giant and dwarfing her hand in comparison- it was the difference between an apple and a watermelon.

Elwin heaved a sigh and looked up at Lemence. "There's nothing you can do, My dear."

"But I can at least see if you make it," Lemence said. "I could do that at least."

"It won't do me any good." Elwin grumbled.

"Just let me try?"

"Girl, I've seen enough. The last thing I want to know is how I die." Elwin said. "Some things I'd rather not know. What's the joy in life without a little surprise.

Lemence stroked the bear, contemplating her words. She didn't bother asking what had made the bear so ill, for she was pretty damn sure it was because the beast was over a thousand years old, and that was even an understatement.

Lemence wanted to know, however, herself, what the bear's last days would be, and if there was any way she good lengthen them. She wanted more than anything to take a deep breath in and let her mind wonder into the bear's future. Would it be betraying Elwin to do so? Just a little peek into history? It's not like the bear would know. Then again, Elwin was known for knowing things, and probably even knew what Lemence had eaten for breakfast- though that was probably just due to her keen smeller.
"What if I-" Lemence started to ask, but Elwin cut her off.
"No."

Lemence tapped the fingers of her free hand on the side of her leg, and in that moment decided to do something she should have done the minute she stepped in the cave- something she'd always been grand at and comfortable with; lying.

"Okay, I'll sit with you for your last hours- or minutes- or seconds that you have left." Lemence said, "and I won't tamper or bother you." She shifted into a more comfortable position. "and I'll just mourn with you for a season or three."

Elwin didn't answer. She just rolled her glossy eyes and let her eyelids slid closed again. She wasn't fond of melodrama, or any drama for that matter. She hated all forms of guilt-trips as well. She thought guilt-trips were one of the worst things you could ever do to another creature, and she was right. Elwin knew Lemence. She knew Lemence would be tempted to find out the bear's future. She knew Lemence lied, played tricks, manipulated, and even guilt-tripped people on a regular business. If you called her on it, Lemece would probably just say it was part of the job. Elwin hated those parts of Lemence. She hated every last guilt-trip and lie that spewed out of Lemence. And so to some, it would be hard to see why Elwin put up with, and even loved the Fifth Season. But Elwin knew there was far more to a person than their negative qualities, no matter how big those negative qualities seemed to be.

And so, Elwin didn't say anything when she felt Lemence sifting through her future. Realizing that this was a rare moment when Lemence needed to be comforted, and Elwin could grant her that opportunity to be vulnerable and mourn. A moment Lemence didn't often share with anyone. A moment Lemence pretended she was incapeable of having- one where she told the world she was immune to grief and heart-ache.

Elwin felt Lemence slip out of her future. Lemence sat there completely still.
"What did you see?" asked Elwin.

There was a long pause and Elwin felt a drop land on her nose.

"Heaven." she said.
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If I were a girl in a book, this would all be so easy.
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