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The American Civil War Museum was an incredibly useful trip in terms of putting our readings into perspective. There were several items that I felt did a good job at bringing that point home, and they have been separated into categories below. After asking about their different appearances, wondering if the thicker material on the plain one was more durable, more expensive, just a different style, or simply from a different time period, our guide pointed me towards the recent popularization of Japanese imports. She suggested that the differences might have to do with the rising Japanese influence. The same influence can be seen on the two parasols, note the switch between a straight handle and the hooked handle. It would be interesting to look into this more and see if there are any other influences, or if they were just overplayed by the selection at the museum.
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Android Mini Series - Lucky Cat
While we've done our best to make the core functionality of this site accessible without javascript, it will work better with it enabled. Please consider turning it on! Remember Me. Work Search: tip: buffy gen teen AND "no archive warnings apply". Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9.
Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter Dream is one of the most revered assassins in the North. He was known as merciless and emotionless. He's worked hard for that reputation. It worked best for him. No one really wanted to know him past his reputation so he didn't need to worry about losing anyone. That made things easy.
Prince George is next in line for the throne If he survives that long. Life has never been easy for George, and he doesn't think it ever will be. He doesn't really have any friends, and he doesn't have anywhere to go, nowhere to hide from the suffering. He's been numb to it for a long time. See the end of the chapter for notes. Dream woke up to the sound of thunder and a damp chill creeping over his skin.
He sat up with a groan and rubbed his eyes, trying to see in the dark of his room. He exhales in one deep breath, a shiver running up his spine when he can see it in front of his face. He slides out of bed, his bare feet touching the cold floor without a sound. He briefly considers relighting the fire in the hearth before deciding the cold will help him wake up faster. The first task of the day is a cold shower and a shave, which leaves him feeling much more awake than he did beforehand.
He gets dressed quickly, pulling on a dark green leather hooded jacket, thick black pants, boots that go halfway up his calves, and black leather fingerless gloves. He makes himself a simple breakfast, two eggs, toast, and a small cup of milk, which he needs to finish before he leaves on his next mission anyways.
This next part is his favorite, the routine of it grounding and calming him. He pulls a tight leather roll out of the drawer in the table next to his bed, untying the rope around it and rolling it out on his wooden table, the four knives inside catching the sunlight on their edges.
He pulls out his grinding stone next, getting a good grip on it before picking up the first knife, which is a small blade, sharp on both edges. Before he leaves his house, he grabs a heavy axe, a crossbow, and a quiver of bolts off the wall, smiling at how good — how right — it feels to be holding them again.
He slides his mask, porcelain white with a simple smile on it, over his face and pulls his hood up over his still-wet dirty blonde hair before stepping outside, inhaling a deep breath of cool, damp morning air. He notes how the thunder has stopped and the rain has lightened to a slight drizzle, and with a quick glance to the sky, he makes a note of which direction the storm is headed. He smiles slightly as a quiet huff of breath lets him know that his horse, Patches, has seen him.
He pets her large head, thinking about the day ahead. Getting tangled up in that state of mind never did him any good, so he did anything and everything he could to just not feel. The ride to the village is uneventful, the only person he sees is a farmer with a pile of hay in his wagon, and they exchange nods.
All the village people know him, and while they might not like him or his presence, they respect him, and hope they never end up in the Tiers. He slows Patches with a gentle press of his heels as he passes through the village gates, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells all over again as if it was the first time. He stops outside the village center, tying his horse to the post out front and running his fingers through her mane before going inside. Conversations are taking place all around him, groups of two, three, four people talking about personal or business matters, none of which concern him.
He makes his way to the very back, nodding to the man standing next to the door and flashing a small dark object as he enters.
The atmosphere in this room is very different, much quieter and tense. The lights are dimmer and there are no windows. The conversations are more contained, looks and expressions more guarded. He turns around, a smile breaking out on his face under the mask.
He pulls the man into a hug, giving him a heavy pat on the back. When they pull apart, he puts his head down to run his fingers through his wind knotted hair. Sap, or Sapnap as the rest of the assassins refer to him by, was a long-time friend of his. Sapnap had short black hair held out of his face by a white headband, and facial hair trimmed to accentuate his jawline and cheekbones.
He knew how to use his looks for personal gain, in both his personal and work life. No one used their real names in this profession.
It kept things cleaner. Dream smiles to himself again before turning away, making his way across the rest of the room to get to the Tier wall on the far side. The Tier wall is a board with three lists, separated by risk level and reward.
They usually get smaller, the third list typically not having many targets at all. Dream already knows this will be the one he goes for, and no one is going to take it from him. They all know better. He approaches the board and reads each list before his eyes settle on the third one, the name written in dark red ink.
She slides him a dull silver coin with a crown on it as a replacement. You could show someone your coin and they would know who you were, what you had done, and what you were willing to do.
Everyone was here for a reason, and it would be hard for them to encounter something that would make them want to quit. Dream runs his thumb over the cool metal a couple of times, feeling all the grooves and ridges in it before tucking it into a buttoned pocket on the inside of his jacket for safekeeping. He offers the woman a slight nod of gratitude, and she averts her eyes in respect.
Dream straightens his mask and pulls his hood back over his head, engulfing his face back into the shadows as he leaves the room and then the building. He goes back to Patches and reaches into her pack to feed her an apple before they set off again.
He kind of hoped he did, it would make the assignment more interesting. It would keep him occupied for longer, and he needed to be away right now. Double checking to make sure he has enough food for at least a couple days if he gets thrown off course, he climbs back into Patches and gives her a short rub between the ears as she finishes eating her treat.
The rain is a welcomed cool sting against his skin, the wind howling in his ears and he smiles wide. It felt so damn good to be back. Thanks to everyone for reading the first chapter! I'm very excited for this AU and to be writing for this fandom. If you enjoyed my work, don't be afraid to leave kudos, a comment, and subscribe if you want to receive email updates when I post new chapters! Plain text with limited HTML? Main Content While we've done our best to make the core functionality of this site accessible without javascript, it will work better with it enabled.
Get an Invitation. Notes: This is my first fic for the dnf fandom, and my first fic in almost two years, so go easy on me. Chapter 1 Notes: See the end of the chapter for notes.
Chapter Text Dream woke up to the sound of thunder and a damp chill creeping over his skin. She whinnies as if she understands him. It makes Dream smile even more. Dream tilts his head, still smiling. A silence draws out between them. The other man gets the message, nodding.
Notes: Thanks to everyone for reading the first chapter! Post Comment Note: All fields are required. Your email address will not be published.
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A maid with a terrible history revolving around poverty and family. Working tirelessly day in and day out for Working tirelessly day in and day out for not even a black coin. She has a dream
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Ben's been having nightmares about dead bodies coming back to life However, this episode isn't about him, it's about Laura Laura psyching herself up for a trip to the Red Zone prompts the eight-years-earlier flashback, where a teenage Laura is enjoying a night out with a couple of girlfriends at the wild and crazy Pocket Rocket Club.
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In all this beauty!