Ode to the Cat

Or, Why I'm Going To Have A Bare Tree This Christmas

My kitten, Merrill, is about seven months old, recently spayed and declawed. Now, my husband and I went to Wal-Mart and got a six foot plastic tree, since I'm badly allergic to real ones. We figured it would last a few seasons and that was great. We didn't get any ornaments or an angel to top it, which proved to be a good thing in any case.

I've had previous cats pee on trees, chew them and attempt to climb them. I have never had a cat climb the tree and sleep in its top branches until now. As a result, I wake up each morning to huge bare spots in my tree where the cat has squished the branches back down or broken them entirely. They are flatter than pancakes and each morning I gamely redo the entire tree because a plastic tree with huge bald spaces is uglier than a plastic tree that at least looks like I'm making an effort.

Right?

Well, now I've resorted to smacking the cat - a bit hard - with whatever object I can get my hands on whenever she climbs it. It's been a week and I can't even decorate my tree because there's no point to it. This is the first Christmas without my mom and having a tree is important to me. And thanks to this rotten little cat, I may have to just toss the tree, like my good mood, into the trash soon.

If I could lock her up overnight in the bathroom I would, except the acoustics in our apartment resemble an orchestra hall and you hear everything, all. The. Time. I'd go mad listening to her meow and howl all night - it's been attempted previously. And I'm certainly not taking the tree down every night, good god!

No, I'll just smack the shit of the cat and hope she learns. If not, I'll just be very, very depressed on Christmas.

Liška

Voss sighed. If the artifact was in the forest, she wasn't about to find it anytime soon. It was a neverending night, it seemed, in this place that not even the light dared to touch. She wondered if this was a scheme by the guild to dispose of several hunters at once. It would be the easiest way to explain so many deaths in one hunt, sending them into this place. Her ears twitched - she wasn't going to die in this horrid place. Not when her plains awaited her return. Sanam remained intangible, a mere wisp beside her until needed. The kitsune wished she had the power to sustain his physical form indefinitely, but she had no idea what lay ahead and - no, that was a lie. She had a very good idea what lay ahead and didn't want to waste precious energy for her own comfort when her very life might depend on his presence soon. And so her pet remained merely a thought in her mind and an occasional whirl of mist beside her.

That damn kitsune moved faster than he had thought her capable of. Either that or he was getting slow in his old age. It was obvious she wasn't following, Astarot wasn't that paranoid just yet. But she would interfere in his hunt and that was unacceptable. He slowed his pace and began to backtrack, slowly but surely, towards the little annoyance that would soon be removed.

"Someone's coming." Her head turned toward the imperceptible noise, a sound she was only able to hear thanks to her wind magic. There was a glow and she hit the ground, rolling to the side just in time to avoid a fireball the engulfed the spot she was on. Her eyes widened and she dared raise her head, only to get her ears singed by another spell. Yelping, she scooted backward ungracefully and cast a spell of her own, the wind shielding her from any further attack. Voss' attacked remained in the shadows and she swore - did she need Sanam? No, not yet, best to save him for a last resort.
"Get up, you little kitsune, and die fighting!" a voice growled. She froze, the voice instilling in her a deep primal fear. It was instinctual and cost her precious moments, during which Astarot pounced, knocking her on her back as he straddled her waist, a black dagger held to her throat.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she managed, her demand coming out as a squeak when she saw the color of his eyes. A Dragon, here. No one ever saw Dragons anymore and she got to be killed by one. She supposed she should be honored.
"You're after the artifact," he said, his voice a rough growl. "Which means you're competition. As such, I have to kill you to make my life that much easier."
"I can't just leave?" Voss swallowed nervously, the tip of the dagger piercing her skin. "I'm hardly a threat. I didn't have a choice."
Astarot paused, glaring down at her. "What does that mean?" he snarled.
"If I didn't take this mission, the guild would revoke my license," she replied. "They told anyone who didn't want to take it the same thing. There are plenty of hunters out here like you -" He snorted and she paused. "Who are out here because they want to be," she amended. "But there are plenty that are here under duress. We lose our licenses, we lose our livelihood. I think they're trying to get us all killed."
He made a noise in the back of his throat, pondering this new information. He seldom talked to other creatures, let alone other hunters, and had no way to tell if what she was saying was the truth or not. He stared down at her again after a moment and was surprised when she met his gaze this time. "Aren't you scared?" he asked.
"Of course. But I'm not lying, we were forced here and I want to know what this artifact is that our lives are all worth it," she told him. "Otherwise I'd be back in my plains."
"Your plains?" he repeated scornfully, but blinked when she growled.
"Yes, my plains."
Astarot looked back at the trees, the beginnings of a frown starting to appear. Only an old kitsune with plenty of power could have their own lands. And while she didn't appear to be a child, she didn't give off such a strong aura that he even noticed it. There was something going on and he didn't like being tricked. The dragon reluctantly rose, stepping over her and watching as she pushed herself to her feet.
"So I can live?"
"That's not for me to say. I won't kill you, however," he agreed. "My name is Astarot."
"Voss," she said curtly, in no mood to be friendly. "Are you going to go back in the shadows and kill someone else?" she demanded, when he merely stood there.
"You seem to know more about the guild's actions lately than I do. I haven't kept in touch with them and it seems that may have been a mistake on my part," he admitted grimly. "I intend to find out what this artifact is. And I plan to kill anyone who gets in my way."
"But..."
"You're hardly going to get in my way." He snorted again, as if amused she thought she could pose a challenge to him. Her ears flattened against her head in anger, a gesture he ignored. "But you are going to come with me. You'll serve as useful bait in case this thing requires a sacrifice of some sort."
Voss' jaw dropped and she glared at him. "What the hell makes you think I'm going to do as you say?" she began, but stopped when the tip of the dagger reappeared at her throat. She hadn't even seen him move this time and she barely breathed. A long moment passed before he slowly withdrew the deadly weapon, staring at her blankly.
"That's why."

Huh

The other day, I tried on an old jacket of mine from when I was sixteen. I know, six years ago. I knew I had gained weight, I've been working out and slowly losing it again, so I didn't expect it to fit. But when I tried it on, I had the shock of my life.

I had been small.

Not a tiny waif, mind you. But for years, ever since puberty, I've been self-conscious about my weight. It was never helped by my mom, who told me constantly that I was fat, overweight, dumpy, unattractive, too fat to wear this, that and the other thing, etc. My dad was pretty good about it, helping me eat right and trying to get me to exercise. He'd go walking with me. People I knew - not friends, but peers - only made it worse. I didn't have a boyfriend until I was 18 and I was convinced that part of the problem was my weight. All the other girls were so skinny and here I was, FAT.

I was a size 6. That's right. I could wear anything from a size 10 down to a 6 and fit.

And all I saw in the mirror was a tummy bulge, muffin top, jiggly thighs, overall FAT.

What the hell?! I'm a size 14 now, I have a curvy figure, and I have no illusions about being 'skinny'. I want a healthy weight, not an obsession with pant sizes when I currently can wear anything from an 8-18, depending on the brand. Which I think is ridiculous, not having a standardized pant sizing system. Men have one! Measure us by inches, dammit!

Moving on. A size 6. At most, a 10. The jacket that started this whole thing was a 6. It wasn't the fact that it couldn't fit that upset me, I knew it wouldn't. It was the fact that all these years I've been miserable, thinking I was fat, pudgy, etc, and there I was, a healthy, normal size for my age.

All I was told was that I was fat.

I hear a lot about body image and how other people perceive you is how you perceive yourself. My husband always tells me he loves me, loves how I look and how beautiful he thinks I am. I realized I'm slowly getting more confident about my appearance because of it. But I didn't realize how drastically my perception of my weight was skewed all these years by people, my mother especially.

I feel a bit betrayed, to be honest. By whom or what, I'm not sure. My mother, certainly. Society in general? Yeah, but I'm sure every girl that isn't below a size 0 feels betrayed by society. We might as well get over it, because society will never, ever change. Ever. I'm convinced of it.

Since that moment of pulling that jacket on, I've felt immensely better about myself. Now that I realize what size I was, how long I was at a healthy weight, I know I can do it again. I have no illusions about fitting into that jacket again. I want a healthy weight, not a perceived size. But knowing I wasn't even overweight all those years gives me new confidence, new incentive about my current weight loss. If I was such a good size, a healthy weight, all those years, I can do it again! It isn't me fighting years of being overweight - it's me fighting a few months of weight from stress and years of self-hate.

The self-hate I can handle, actually. Most of the negativity about my weight is gone from my life, I've had time to get a new look at me and I realize I like me. Even at the steady 14 I've become, I'm pretty happy. I still have days where all I see is the tummy, but even then it's more like, "Augh! Go away, already!" instead of despair and loathing at myself for being so fat. I can laugh at myself in a mirror!

Noční Směna

Rana was exhausted. She couldn't even have a job - widowed for only six months made many things inaccessible to her, including any sort of social event and holding a job of her own. Something to do with "grieving time" or some such nonsense. It was merely society's way of keeping her out of sight and out of mind. No one wanted to deal with a wealthy widow, a young woman at that, who posed a threat to their young, unmarried daughters. That was fine with her, it allowed her to retain her private life, her solitary existence that suited her best. Not that she sat around doing nothing all day. Far from it. There were several individuals who benefited from her visits, either the lonesome elderly in need of companionship or the high-strung youth who responded best to discipline from someone other than their neglectful parents. It made her feel useful, in a semi-permanent way. The elderly would die, the children would grow up and forget, and she would fade away once again.

The knock on the door was the last thing she wanted to hear as she started to braid her auburn hair, but when the rapping grew louder she huffed, flinging it open in annoyance.
"Milady, we need help," the man informed her, hawk-gold eyes staring into her own brown ones. His meaning was unmistakable and she sighed.
"All right, just let me change into something more appropriate," she replied, gesturing for him to enter and shutting the door behind him. The lack of servants, while creating yet another minor gossip scandal, was convenient for her in many ways. Rana flew to her bedroom, pushing past the many gowns and skirts in her closet until she dug out a dark pair of breeches, followed by a wide leather belt, a brown blouse and a heavy duster. Her heavy boots, with a thick heel, reached almost to her knees and had prevented many injuries she otherwise would have had scars to explain to a doctor. They were laced up quickly out of practice and the braid was done as she reached the bottom of the stairs. The man nodded in relief, his hunched posture not from age but worry. The door was locked and they were gone, hidden by the shadows in the alleys.

Noční Směna

She sat not with her family, nor with her husband's family, but in a pew between the two. She was separate, an oddity both in the community and the families. The look from her mother-in-law seared through her, sending its silent message to the young woman.
"You embarrass us. You disgrace us."
It didn't cause her much heartache. She had only been married a few months, the brief new matriarch of the family, as her husband was the eldest son. He had died, a disease that surprised the entire family. Refusing to marry his younger brother, the next heir, left the young woman adrift. She neither returned to her family nor married into her deceased husband's family, as was the norm. Instead, she insisted on living on her own, surviving on a salary that was a mystery to all who knew her and refusing any social engagements.
Rhen sat silently in her seat, outwardly composed and inwardly seething. The Minister was preaching yet another sermon on the importance of appearance, the need for men to care for woman - another pointed attack by her mother-in-law. The woman never let up. One would think she enjoyed being matriarch of the family again, but her odd sense of social propriety wouldn't let her leave the woman alone. She must be remarried - and to her brother-in-law, if one followed society's expectations, which Phylis Morgan always did. Unfortunately for everyone who had to deal with her.

The ordeal was over soon enough and Rana slipped away from both families without being spotted. Her own family was tolerable, but regrettably shared the same views on her life as her in-laws did. It was exhausting, dodging them all constantly. They all had their expectations of her, their designs on her future, all twenty-three combined, and she was determined to elude them all.
Only her husband had understood that. They had known one another for years and chance threw their marriage together through inspiration on his mother's part. He was friendly, competent and most importantly, could control his family. She had been happy, oddly enough. And then to be left alone with the vultures broke her heart even more.
At least she had her secret. Not even her husband had known, though he might have understood that too. It was hers to keep, to use when necessary.

Liška

Saying he was wearing nothing but black would be a dangerous falsehood. Pure black stood out in a forest like this one, shadows were never any solid color. This hunter wore shades of gray, olives, dusky purples and even some blue. He melded into the shadows like this, a mixture of colors like everything else around him. He spotted the bright white of the kitsune and shook his head. She wasn't worth the effort, but she might have thanked him later if he had put her out of her misery. Instead, he continued on by, his passing unnoticed by all. Even the forest ignored his presence, everything an offense to the mighty structures that towered over the rest of living creation since the end of time.

The artifact was too precious to fall into their hands. For that matter, it shouldn't fall into his hands either, but he couldn't help if he was simply more skilled than the children posing as hunters. They had stumbled into this deathtrap of a life of their own violition and he wasn't here to lend a helping hand. Perhaps a push in a dark night, but not a pull. Never that.

Instead, he slipped in between darkness and light, his hair bound at the nape of his neck, revealing long tapered ears. His eyes were a distinctive orange and any who knew what the color signified would keep a safe distance from him - perferably several miles.

Liška

If not for the night weighing down on her, the forest would have been a haven of beauty amidst the chaos of the wars and cities. Instead, she wrapped her cloak around her tightly, tail twitching at every whisper of wind in the tree branches above her. Boarding on swampland, but lacking enough moisture to make the inhabitants miserable, the forest was overgrown with thick trees and dense undergrowth to block any path previously made. The light of the moon could barely push past the foliage overhead, leaving the earth captive to shadows and flickers of light. Where the shadows faded, a hint of color shone through, a promise of the beauty currently hidden.

There were no paths to follow, barely space to crawl between some of the trees. The kitsune huddled close to the mist beside her. She avoided the light diligently, the white of her brown-tipped tail and ears serving as a beacon to any predators. Her ears were kept pressed back against her head, hidden by the auburn of her hair, while the tail was kept concealed beneath the cloak. It was a mistake to come into the place at night, she knew, but it was the only time she had been able to get away. The mist beside her flickered between existence, occasionally taking its material form for the briefest of seconds. It served more as a comfort than an aid for the moment, keeping close to it's kitsune mistress.

It had to be here somewhere. She could sense it, every hair on her head on end. The problem was the forest. It was cloaking it, keeping it hidden from anyone looking. And there were many on the hunt. She had already encountered several other seekers, leaving them behind in a trail of blood.

Zprávy

My brother's been staying with us, on the second week now. It's been fun, having company while Wayne is at work. He pretty much just sits and goes on his game, so it's not like I'm having urges to kill him yet. He does dishes and cooks sometime too, so that's nice.

Wayne'll be gone all September, off to training. That'll suck pretty bad. Gotta love how he'll be away for Labor Day, which is normally when they get days off. Irony. Eric'll stay with me for a week or two in the midle of the month so I don't go completely nuts. And the car will be fixed by then, what needs to be replaced is easy for Wayne, so I'll be able to go places. I figure I'll order myself some books, since it's cheaper to use the website for Barnes and Nobles than get some of them in the store itself.

Not much else to go on about. I've lost all train of thought, so any randomness will have to wait until I lure it back with chocolate.

The Army...

...is as family-friendly as the KKK likes black people and gays.

I am completely and utterly disgusted with the Army, at least the people in the Army that I have the unfortunate experience of dealing with.

I was extremely sick on Monday, vomiting all day and unable to eat anything since Sunday night. My husband is still out in the field and asked to come home to take care of me. His commander informed him that he could if I went to the hospital. I have a phobia about hospitals and hoped to sleep it off, so I refused. His platoon sgt, who isn't in the field and in charge of him anyway at the moment, tried to bully me into going - I refused and he continued to act as if I was and he was taking me.
I woke up late Monday night even more sick and was losing vision in my right eye. After not being allowed to come home, my husband called an ambulance for me. I was in the emergency room - but apparently it wasn't en emergency, as his commander decided no, he couldn't go after all after specifically saying if I ended up in the hospital she'd give him leave to see me. Then he was told he could leave if the hospital requested him. I asked the doctor who explained the only way they could is if it was a red cross, a life-threatening emergency. No one had explained this to me or my husband. After spending five hours at the ER, and not having a ride home either, I was told someone from my husband's detachment was coming to get me.
It was the sgt whom I had previously fought with - who made me wait over an hour and a half in the ER waiting room before finally showing up. After dropping me off - without a word, after I thanked him - I was mad, not rude - he sent a text to my husband saying that they were going to have words when he returned.

Excuse me? About WHAT? My car not being operable? Even if it was, I was in no condition to drive myself to the ER at one in the morning, I couldn't see out of my right eye. I could barely walk.

If they had told my husband, right away, that he couldn't come see me unless it was a life-threatening emergency, both he and I would have understood and been able to plan around it. Finding someone else to take me back and forth, for one. As it stands, they tricked and misled my husband while I was in the emergency room, letting him think he'd be able to at least take me home before going, "Whoops, did we say that? Sucker!"

I've had to deal with Army bullshit before. They weren't going to allow my husband leave - after it had been accepted for over three months - for us to get married until a friend pulled some strings and got some people yelled at. Suddenly, his 'lost' paper reappeared like it had never been gone. My husband is the only one in his squad who hasn't been allowed to use his comp day - every time he requests it, they're too busy and can't spare him.

I understand the Army is full of crap and that nothing in life is fair. But this sort of mistreatment, misleading and completely unfeeling and uncaring amazed me. My husband works hard and enjoys his job, he likes fixing things. He's one of the last to leave and is willing to do the hard work. I could see if he was a slacker or troublemaker, even I'd get on his case. And I don't know anything about the Army, I've only been married three months. To trick and mislead him while I was in the hospital is just a low blow with no excuse for it. It was inexcusable and reprehensible behavior that's unfitting for a commander and sgt to engage in.

And I'm supposed to trust these people to do what's best for me and my husband? They showed very clearly last night that they could not care less - excuse me, they could care less, but they took the time to lie to him instead.

Svoboda Projevu

My, my, what a busy life I've been leading since my last post. While I haven't been many places, I've been on the rampage mentally and emotionally the past month.

Where to start. I turn 22 on Sunday, Father's Day, and I have mixed feelings about it. My age? Not at all, I think it's a good point in my life and there's no reason to be ashamed of getting 'old'. I use the word relatively, since I don't think it's old and yet everyone is telling me I'm over the hill. Some seem to be serious, scarily enough. So what is wrong, you may ask? Well, it'll be the first birthday without my mom. I got a card in the mail from my dad, and from my brother, but there was nothing from mom. No note, no 'baby girl, I love you so much', nothing. And it didn't hit me until that moment that mom isn't here this year, I can't count on her making my birthday a big deal like she always did. I haven't cried and if I do, I probably need to. I'm also just feeling odd in general about it. It's my first birthday away from my family and I don't see the point in really bothering with it. Wayne seems to be enjoying himself, he's planning on taking me out to dinner - which I don't mind - but I always feel that my birthday is merely a burden to other people and I say not to bother.

 
I have a cat now. She's about a year, we called her Tempest. She's a Siamese and what I swear is calico mix with the strangest colors I've seen on a cat. I'll post pictures at the end of this post. She's a sweetheart - she loves to be picked up and cuddled, sleeps with us constantly and likes to chase my husband around the house. I can't wait until we get the two kittens from Wayne's coworker in August, they will really make the household livelier!

She sleeps behind my chair when I'm on the computer

Ah, summer. I usually get morose this time of year anyway. I don't tan very well, so I end up rather pasty pale every year. I'd rather that than get skin cancer, but still. I'm hardly on the cutting edge of fashion or beauty as it is. I wear a size 14, I'm short and I don't tan. Summer-wise, I'm always on the out. I despise bathing suits and dresses, since I feel I look HUGE. My skin still breaks out - especially from stress - and with all the heat and humidity I can't do much to cover it up like I usually do. I feel out of sorts in this weather, my least attractive season.

Well, below are some pictures I just felt like sharing with anyone interested. 

My husband, brother, myself and father at my wedding on April 22.

My husband and I visiting Skyline Drive in May

Our new baby, Tempest

Big blue eyes

She likes to play video games with Wayne

She also has a raccoon tail

Zamilovaný

What an insane month April has been.

My mom passed away on April 22, Good Friday, at 4:40 am. It was bittersweet, since she was suffering so much it was a relief for her to be at rest. And at the same time, it's my mommy and I'm really lost without her. A piece of my heart is gone and will never be filled.

I was married to my soulmate on April 25, also my late uncle's birthday. I'm moving into an apartment with him on the 20th of this month. It's ten minutes from Fort Bragg, where he's stationed as a mechanic in the Army, which is wonderful. It's exciting and frightening to be moving out, away from my dad and brother. We're only five hours away, which means they can visit a lot and vice versa. We even got a two-bedroom apartment so they can stay with us and visit. We're an hour from the beach, which is great for my dad.

My mom's viewing was on April 26. My dad's sister and mom came down, as well as his cousin, her husband and their daughter. I haven't seen any of them in years and it was a strange reunion. My best friend Anne came back from Seattle the week before, so she was here for my wedding and everything else that happened, which I'm so grateful for.

My mom's funeral was on April 27. I made it through okay, until they wheeled the casket out of the church. Then I started crying.

I don't think anything has really hit me yet. Everything has happened so fast I haven't had time to really sit and absorb any of it. I have my ups and downs - some moments I'm so happy and in love and excited about the future, and other moments I just want to cry and curl up under a rock. I can't decide and I'm not going to try. It's a natural part of everything, grieving and a major life change. My husband is a wonderful man whom I'm proud and lucky to be his wife and he's so patient with me when I need to cry or get moody.

Everything is a roller coaster. I think once I'm moved and I settle in and don't have anything else to focus on, then I'll hit the proverbial wall. Until then, I'm mostly running on nerves and adrenaline and god only knows what else some days.

Laskavost

I wonder if anyone ever uses google translate to figure out what I'm saying. Hrm...just thought of that.

What a freakin' month. Still doing pretty shitty, but thanks to a few friends giving me their numbers and letting me cry and mope to them when I need to, I'm feeling a little positive now. Mom stared chemo and reacted well to it, but now she's got some sort of infection so I'm sort of freaking out.

She's doing a little better this past week. Sleeping a whole lot, but she's gone out a few places and is a little more coherent lately. Which is nice, I'm learning quite a few recipes and shall soon be inundated with my male friends trying to get a free male, hah!

There isn't much going on, other than all the negative crap. Insurance won't pay for chemo or hospital bills - I don't even want to go into that mess. God almighty, you'd think we'd get a break!

But people in our parish, some of them, have been really kind and that's raising our spirits as well. A few women are making us meals on the days mom gets chemo, since we're all too emotionally exhausted to even care about eating then. And so many keep calling, wanting to come over to help with mom, spend time or to tell me that I can call them any time I need some help for anything. I'm actually surprised by their reaction and it's restored my faith in humanity slightly, since I can tell they're sincere in their words and actions.

V Posledním Tažení

My mom has pancreatic cancer. It's advanced fourth stage and aggressive. In three weeks, she went from being uncomfortable to being in such pain she's popping pain pills every hour and can barely stand getting out of the bed. She got a scan last week and we were told the results today.

Without treatment, my mom has six months to live at best. With chemo, who the hell knows, because no one knows if it's going to help until she tries it.

She decided that she's going to do chemotherapy and see if it helps.

I don't know what to do or how to feel. I hate, hate, HATE seeing my mom in constant pain, crying, and I can't do a damn thing about it. All I can do is hold her hand and tell her it's okay to cry. Who can blame her? I'm just numb and it really, really sucks.

Why does my mom have to die? Why can't it be a pedophile, a murderer, a rapist? Why does it have to be my mother - the woman who gave birth to me, who's raised me and who loves me, even if we've had a fucked-up relationship for years? It's not fair and I don't care if people say that life isn't fair. It isn't and I'm not ready to accept it.

I don't really have anyone to talk to. My best friend is in Seattle, Washington with her relatives. The girl I thought was my best friend decided she was more important than my mother and the issues I now have to deal with. And I haven't made myself many close friends, thanks to my intolerance and resistance to doing what people tell me. Do I regret my actions? No, I don't want fair-weather friends. I never have.

But I feel so lonely. My brother has his friends, my dad has people he can talk to. And I don't have a single person. There's a huge difference in talking to someone over the internet and having a good cry with a friend in person. I don't like to cry in front of people, but I don't even get that option. And it really hurts right now.

I know, I'm being selfish. But what can I do right now? I'm being strong for my mom - I dropped three out of four classes, and I'm only taking that one because she wants me to. I don't go anywhere, I don't go see anyone, because I stay at home to take care of my mom, the house, the animals, my dad, my brother. I don't have anyone asking me if I need help, if I need to just go somewhere and cry and not have to listen to trite words of "I'm sorry" or if they can do anything.

All I want is my mom. And I can't have her. And it's not fair. I'm twenty-one years old. She'll never see me graduate college, get married, have kids, move out - any of that stuff.

My heart is breaking. I feel like someone's ripped it out, gutted me and ground me into dust. And if it would keep my mom alive, I'd let them. Instead, all this suffering has no point. I get to watch my mom fade, get weaker and suffer even more - and for what? For NOTHING. Nothing. She'll die anyway and I won't have my mom. What's the point?

There is no point.

Tělo

Uzume was back in the recesses of her soul, allowing the mortal host her free will once more. Tělo had known what the reincarnated part of her soul was planning, was doing, but the goddess of dawn's power far surpassed her own untrained abilities and she had been content to let the goddess take care of the dirty work this time.

She stretched her wings to their full length, the cold air of the mortal realm passing over her skin like a cool breeze instead. Tělo had mastered her power over fire and was able to warm herself from the inside out in both physical and astral form, something her brother had been impressed about. She loved living in the mountains and took a deep breath, despite the fact her physical form was tucked away in bed, safe behind wards. She felt invincible in the night air, resting on the top of a bare tree miles above civilization.

"Enjoying the freedom?" Loki asked, appearing beside his sister, perched just as absently as she with arms crossed over a bent knee.
"What else?" she replied, her hawk-gold eyes glancing in his direction before returning to the stars above.
"Wondering which one is your mother again?" he guessed. Tělo shrugged briefly.
"I can't help but look at them and wonder why they sent me to a mortal body," she mused, reflecting on how different her life could have been had she been given the chance to reside in her true immortal form, rather than inhabit the mortal flesh her spirit had been guided to before conception.
Loki made a noncommittal noise. He claimed her mother's name was unknown even to him, Belial the only being in the universe to have that knowledge. And the fallen archangel refused to speak of her to his daughter, enjoying her demands and wheedling while they had lasted.
"The were?"
"He's fine as far as I know," she replied curtly, the blood tie an irritation at the best of times.
"And the demon?"
"He's fine too," she murmured, having been surprised the being she thought a fae had turned out to be of the demonic nature.

They fell silent and watched the stars brighten in silence, Tělo's wings providing the only unearthly light in the blackness underneath the sky. The falling snow melted on their skin, bothering them not at all. It was a rare, companionable silence for the two siblings. Family they may be, but Loki only cared about his sister as long as she served whatever purposes he had in mind. The feeling was returned by his winged sibling.

Neither had the capacity to truly love another being anymore. It had been lost in different ways for each, but lost nonetheless. Tělo was able to empathize and feel love on a shallow, superficial level. But she had realized she could never love anyone more than herself and while the revelation hurt - she would never have a truly giving love - she had settled the issue and decided to work with what she had. Which was precious little, but more than even some humans had these days.

Hněv

Uzume stood on the edge of the cliff, her magnificent wings stretched out defiantly as she surveyed the valley below. She had been called from the depths of her reincarnation's subconscious mind to deal with the matter at hand. It had gone too far for the woman to handle on her own, even as powerful as she had grown.

"It is indeed fortunate that I was called into a body that isn't even human," the goddess of dawn thought, even while knowing fortune had little to do with it. "Spawn of a fallen archangel and Zodiac. The question remains whether she has inherited any of her father's demonic blood, or was the angel strong enough?" she mused, the question bothering everyone who know her host. Belial was a powerful demon, once a strong archangel, and the host had been conceived before the Fall, his Fall as well.

It was a concern, but the host's Zodiac blood seemed to overwhelm any tendencies the woman might have had towards her demonic nature. The host was becoming extremely adept at controlling her adaptability, a gift from the Zodiac mother - her latest achievement was controlling her body's metabolism to warm areas where she needed it most and direct her body heat consciously. She was also growing stronger, able to communicate with spirits on earth with thoughts rather than emotions and had to learn how to block them before she grew overwhelmed with the voices in her mind.

"You do know I'm only here because of her. I owe you nothing," Fukurokuju growled, wings tucked tightly against his wolf form as he surveyed her. He was accustomed to dealing with the host, not the dormant reincarnation tucked away inside her soul, and was on edge. The demonic werewolf half-breed and Uzume's host had a complicated relationship, one now established on a mutual desire for power, protection and the inability to rid themselves of the inadvertent bond between them. They avoided each other's physical forms as much as possible, but the ability to channel power to each other was an invaluable ability, especially lately.

"She would not have lasted so long without your power," Uzume replied calmly, her wings slowly folding and stretching to the sky. They were her host's wings - her host's body - and they had grown to accommodate the enormous amount of power she could now store in them. He acknowledged the thanks with a low growl.

"Now, now, children, behave," Loki scolded them, appearing on the other side of the pair and smirking, as he was wont to do. "We're here to take care of them, aren't we? So stop bickering, unless you want her to just fade away after you two are ripped apart. That means your bond will be destroyed as well," he reminded the demon-were, turning to glare at him.

The creature displayed impressive fangs. "Let them try."

"They have been," Uzume said shortly. The betraying angel, the succubus and the ignorant youkai - they were attempting to separate her soul from her host's. It would kill the host, send Uzume into the Realms lost, and destroy any and all bonds the physical body possessed. Her power would be gone, up for grabs for whomever was fast enough to find it. "Why do you think she's been pulling at you all week? She's afraid to go to sleep - they can pull her into astral projection easily if she's asleep, so she remains awake all night."

"I know that," Fukurokuju shot back. He cared nothing for the goddess and little for the host. But what little existed was strong and he was reluctant to have it ripped so carelessly from him. "What's the plan?"

"We're going to do what we should have done before," Loki interrupted, his smirk deepening into something much more sinister. Another winged figure appeared next to him - the gambling god who went by the name Sevens and many others, a powerful deity much older than Loki. "We're going to rip them to shreds. Binding their power wasn't enough - now, they die."

"Physically?"

"That's the best part," the newest member replied. "Their physical bodies will remain intact, their human minds stable. But they'll feel the pain, the loss and know exactly what kind of power we've ripped from them. They'll never be able to perform even the most basic ward."

"What has she said?" the demon-were demanded. The host had been bloodthirsty before, but had refused to actually kill these three up until now. Uzume shook her head.

"She has agreed. She wants her soul intact as much as I."

They turned back to the valley, where the betrayers held court in the fallen angel's castle. They had slipped into the realm easily enough thanks to Sevens' power and had surveyed the area. They spread their wings and dropped from the edge, prepared to leave a trail of blood and bodies to achieve their goal.