I find these times quite hilarious.
(Source: samtrammell)
Fictional my ass!
Honorable mention: Alcide Herveaux
Today has an eery yet beautiful quality to it. The sun is shining and the sky is an endless near perfect blue, reminiscent of that day etched in our memories forever, some moreso than others.
I remember where I was when it happened. I remember walking through the hall of my college, having started class after the first plane hit, and seeing teachers and students pooled in the hall and pockets of the building where televisions were set up. I remember the look on some peoples’ faces as I passed them to see what was so important. There was shock, devastation and disbelief. It is hard to describe what the mood felt like in one word but, it was enough for me to go back home. It was like I was walking through a collective half dream, a nightmare that we all shared with the atrocities taking place, lending the present, the now, some kind of universal head shake in negation. We were not asking why, but all inwardly, saying no. As if our collective resistance against what was happening could erase it, that we could all just wake up.
I went home and turned the television on, as nobody else was home. What I saw in the silence of my little apartment, that I shared with my brother, sister, my mother and both my grandparents, it was rare to be home alone and even rarer that the apartment was this quiet. I never sat down, I stood clutching the remote in my hand, looking at the images on the screen and still thinking “No.” My mind raced over not the why or the how of the tragedy unfolding but all those people. For a moment, knowing I had ample family in New York, for a moment, I looked at the images of the people stretched out of the windows, the billowing smoke and I thought; what if my family is in there? And then I saw The Jumpers and my knees buckled. They were these specks on the screen for brief flashes, some spinning, other rolling and some just plummeting and to know that these were not just bodies, but people. People who had made the decision to die, people that had lost hope, that knew what was going to happen, that were living the horrendous tragedy, and who decided upon this open and somewhat liberating death.
The months after 9/11 were hard and still held for me this kind of bad dream effluence. I read stories, saw shows that examined things and I always felt a sense that I was there but I wasn’t. I cried, and worried, and felt completely helpless on other occasions. Being where I was in Canada, asking myself what could I have done, what can I do. Every so often I’d catch, on my way to classes after that, I always had to pass the firehouse, and I saw,a t a constant after 9/11 trucks decorated with small u.s flags, and it filled me with a sense of pride, and helped me focus on the fact that not only was this a tragedy but, in a morbid sense, it had shaken the world, and the world responded with hope.
Today, we are told to remember, to never forget but, what I can’t help thinking about is not only will I never forget but as a person, as an individual, as a human being, a citizen of the world, we can not. The ripples that spread after that day affected everyone. From the family of the victims, to the media reporters who took the footage of what was going on and brought it into our livingrooms, to the relief workers, to the men and women who put on their fatigues and went to war. Everyone has been affected and will be feeling this in one way or another for a long time.
And today, with the defeat of the monster who planned and put the order out for the nightmare to become a reality, with his demise, this is only another step in the collective healing process that we all must face. To scale this down to a more tangible effect, for me, I think about the victims of a violent crime. When the police investigators come to your house to tell you your loved one has died, you do not start to heal completely until you fill the void of finding and/or prosecuting the one who brought the untimely death to your loved one.
And so today, with it’s eery hue of a perfect day, I will not forget, I will remember what happened, and think with sympathy and renewed hope for all those affected, all those lives that changed as so many other ended. This is another chapter in the healing process, my sympathies and condolences go out to everyone of them, but still my thanks and appreciation is also handed down tot he brave men and women of the armed forces and its constituents who sacrifice their safety for the freedom of so many.
I will remember because I can not and will not forget the event that told the collective story of the humanistic tradition of the world.
mmm I nearly raped him right then. @kingnorthmanA5
…ditto man…dit..to
It took Tara all of three weeks to figure things out for Mister Krane. After multiple phone calls from his estate and to specific building companies, the life size tanks, seashell and tropical fish were all set up for the party.
“Come miss Thornton, you will need the shaman to look after you.”
“The who?”
This part was not in the contract or the many conversations about the details of the function. Tara knew there was to be some kind of shamanistic ritual but she had always assumed it was going to be for the party goers and not the catering planners, but there was no room for arguments or polite rejections. Miss Florentine already had Tara by the hand, which was an odd sensation since the woman in question, was secreting some form of..slime like sweat. Tara’s hand kept slipping and the underside of Miss Florentines hand kept tightening..not her grip but it was almost like adhesive muscle kept adjusting and readjusting.
Tara walked beside her as best as she could while Florentine seemingly glides across the glass and marble flooring. The floor was another ting, still open to be viewed like an aquarium, and when Tara glances at her hand, she nearly gags. Florentines fingers are near tentacles now.
She is pulled into a room etched with coral painted into the smooth marble stone, the gold chandelier overhead is a beautifully hand crafted sculpting of fish in motion while the ceiling, near Cysteine chapel make, is decorated by again the decore one would find if one went scuba diving in the impossibly blue ocean.
Florentine tosses Tara a dark blue bikini top. “You can put your triple e jacket over it if you want.” she smiles and Tara notes even the womans teeth have grown small and jagged, packed tightly together. “You’re a 36C right?”
shifting on her feet, Tara nods, a little uncomfortable that the woman can read her cup size just by looking. Tara still had to spend some time picking out her own bra until she found the right kind of fit.
Maybe I should take her bra shoppin with me.
“Good. Put it on. Get dressed-“
“But this is just a top.”
“oh you wont need a bottom.”
What the Hell kinda party is this?!
Just then a man in a gold robe is literally wheeled in. He sits in an aquarium of sorts, propped up on a table with wheels. his hair is snow white which is a stark contrast to the bright color of the robe he wears. His skin is wrinkled and cracked, but his eyes are bright and youthful and smile just as he smiles to Tara, nodding his head.
“Ah yes!” he says in a voice that you would have never given the near frail looking man. “Come closer.” he says with a near chuckle and, before Tara can second guess it, she moves closer to the tank, only to see that where feet should be, was a long softly gold in colored…tail.
What in the fuck…
As if he had heard her inner dialogue, the old man chuckles, nodding to Florentine. ” Krane has picked the perfect overseer to the festivities. Miss Thornton, I am Ephram.” He extends a wet and pickled hand to her which Tara tries to take without much preamble.
“Go get changed and I will be with you shortly.”
“Yeah see that’s the thing Mister Ephram, I-“
“Just Ephram.”
“yeah..ok sorry..I’m just sayin, there’s only a top. I wasn’t told about any costume play that I myself would have to participate in.”
“How did you expect to breathe?”
“Excuse me?”
“The entire function takes place…in there.” with a wrinkled finger, Ephram points to the aquarium bottom underfoot. Both Ephram and Florentine chuckle at Taras all too raw reaction to the slip of information.
“Get dressed now, it will be too difficult to do so later.”
“But I-“
“Flo, help her if she needs it. Gustav, the change is almost near, take me tot he waters.”
“Sir.” Flo gives a gracious bow while another servant of sorts wheels Ephram out of the room. Tara looks over the bikini top with even more question and trepidation backed by a lilt of defiance.
“I hope you re-“
“Lord Ephram is right, put it on now.”
“Woah woah woah.” Tara holds up her hand backing away from Flo as the woman approaches her with vigor and decisive steps. “what kinda party is this? I was told this is some kinda kids naming day thing, like a christening. I dunno what kinda christening you all go to but in the ones I been at, aint nobody wearin bikinis…and even if they did, where the hell is the bottom?!”
Flo, whose skin has now begun to shimmer like that tail on the old man, rolls her eyes that again look a little bigger. ” This is part of the contract. We’ve given you our own worker-“
“Yeah i read that contract page to page, aint nothin said I-“
“To comply with the ceremonial accoutrements needed to provide those present with the very best enclosure of privacy and celebration. This-” Flo holds up the bikini top. “Is the ceremonial accoutrement.”
“shit…i thought that just meant more kelpcakes.” With a sigh Tara drags a heavy hand over her face before she reaches for the top.
“The changing room is over there.” Flo points to a gold and cherry wood gilded door that Tara disappears behind only to immerge in a pair of black slacks and the top. To her satisfaction Flo hands Tara an orange sarong.
“You can not wear those pants.”
“Oh for the love of-“
“It is a breach of contract if-“
“Fine!” she snatches the sarong, and boldly wraps it about herself before she shimmies out of her pants. Flo is unaffected by Taras fervent attitude and only claps her shimmering hands.
“Davith!” suddenly as if from the very walls itself, a man towering over Tara, makes himself known. His skin shimmers as well, and his eyes are near an egg shape and a tantalizing green in color. His hair is dark and flowing past his shoulders and on his arms, are tattoos bordered by gold bangles. His muscles are not overwhelming, they are almost a whisper of his true strength, and being unable to stop her eyes, Taras appraisal trails even lower.
“Hey you’re n-“
“Hello.” He says, his voice ringing out like a bell and mildly..intoxicating. He holds out a hand to Tara, a soft comfortable smile on his lips. “Come with me.” Like a puppet Tara takes his hand and follows flanked on one side by Davith and the other by Flo to join the commotion in the main hall as the glass floors began to lower the entire room into the water.
All this passes in a blur as Taras attention, beyond her control, stays glued to Davith who, just then,a s the floors rumble, passes her a cup.
“Tara, you will drink this down to it’s last drop. I will always be here with you even after you’ve done. Nod if you understand.”
She nods and slowly brings the cup to her lips as Davith begins to chant, his hand pressed delicately to her throat. The liquid is strong and bitter, she chokes and sputters on the first gulp but Davith wriggles his fingers and when Tara looks at him, his eyes stare intently at her, as if giving her the strength to complete the task at hand.
Water rises from ankle, to calve and now past their knees as Tara drinks..and drinks…and drinks. when the waters lap under her chin, and Davith still standing next to her, Tara begins to feel a change.
“It is alright.” Davith tells her. “It will pass.”
The next thing that takes place can only be expressed in waves of excruciating pain. Davith holds tight to her hand as she writhes and cries out under the changes taking place. Her skin burns as it too takes on a shimmer, and the yearning for the coolness of the waters reach a teetering craving. Her feet are painfully pulled taught, the sarong falling away as flesh binds to flesh, and the elastin given to human skin hardens and begins to cut in on itself, scales soon drape over where feet used to be. Her eyes are yanked at the corners, stretching them to the eggshape that was given to Davith. The final bout is that of the crushing sensation at her nose and ears, as the orifice is pulled in and covered over, only to have her skin tare at the sides of her neck, giving her gills. Her ears are pined back and left to a pinprick for sound.
The entire party is now immersed under water, yet the snack tables stay afloat, just as the blueprints specified, letting the meals stay afloat on slippers of plastic like lillypads. Davith finishes his chant and Tara, though she felt like death had finally found her, she blinks clearly underwater, breathing as if she were still standing above ground.
“Miss Thornton.” Davith smiles handsomely as he steps aside. “Welcome to the party.” He hands her a mirror as if knowing she’d want further exploration of what has transpired. Upon catching a glimpse of her reflection, she shivers. It is quite a thing to look at your reflection and know it is you starign back despite teh drastic changes.
“This is what it must feel like after plastic surgery.” Davith chuckles while others swim past them in the last instances towards the celebration. Her fingers go over her lips and hover over the gills that pulsate in time.
“They said you were a riot.” Davith says. “But yes, that is a good comparison.” Looking at her fin below,s he realizes now why they insisted that she remove her pants. Everything was so crystal clear, that despite being in the water, it seemed as if everyone was floating on air.
“How will I-“
“I will help, you will sleep, and dry out. When you dry out, you will be as you were.”
“Is that how it is for you too?”
“No our family is different in that respect.”
Tara had done her research, and read up on teh type of supernatural beings this sort was but, she had always found it hard to believe until now. “Mer people.”
Davith nods as Ephram swims up to them with a grin on his face. “So nice of you to join us Miss Thornton.” Davith gives a short bow and Tara follows suit, glancing at her ironically waterproof digital watch.
“Ten minutes sir.”
“Good girl.” Ephram replies, patting tara on the shoulder. “Alright Davith.” Another exchange of nods before teh men swim off leaving Tara surrounded by fin fitted workers.
“Right..the pearl walkway..” shaking her head, pulling her senses from being so mesmerized by her current situation, Tara swims off to work.