Katherine Frances's Blog, page 333
August 12, 2015
pxelslayer:
They forced her to wear white. She disagreed and...
They forced her to wear white. She disagreed and made it red.
Ok, no more OCing, back to studies, you lazy s`wit!
August 11, 2015
sixpenceee:
The bloodwood tree is a deciduous, spreading and...
The bloodwood tree is a deciduous, spreading and slightly flat-crowned tree with a high canopy. It reaches about 15 metres in height and has dark bark. The red sap is used traditionally as a dye and in some areas mixed with animal fat to make a cosmetic for faces and bodies.
natgeofound:
A young Kenyan woman holds her pet deer in...
A young Kenyan woman holds her pet deer in Mombassa, March 1909.Photograph by Underwood and Underwood
"Upper Peninsula
we got our high school heroes and our wolves
set for winter, cracked hands and..."
Upper Peninsula
we got our high school heroes and our wolves
set for winter, cracked hands and broken teeth
and a hunger for the ice we got the brief spell
of summer where we almost believe in heaven
and we got out traveling carnivals and our
miles of nothing and the sweet little gift shops
that open for tourists and the brooding titan
of our lidless-eyed god-
but we don’t tell just anybody about what we
find in the forest and those shops all have backrooms
where real business is done; you could say we’re
all prospectors dealing in bone-slivers we’re all
covering up crimes with our hands stained by rust
and our killers are quiet, our ghosts stumble in frozen
our shifting witch neighbors call up storms from the
the lake and they reappear sodden with corroded
wires from the wreckage and the magic we work here
is sharp and it’s shadowed we’re a long way from
the places where people like you live, we’re a dark
frozen country who might sometimes dream of
the sun we got bridges strung out with lights
ready for Christmas we got trains that keep
running even when the tracks are all gone
and tonight we’re all gathered around the small
lick of fire at the edge of the pond in the blood of
the dark it’s the longest night of the winter it’s
our sacrificial gathering to keep the dead of the
lake in their green-mudded prisons we watch our
changeling children skate across the thick
midnight ice we watch them move between wolf
between nightmare between human we watch
them bleed one another with the ragged cut of
steel we stand in a lunar penumbra in a breath
held before snowfall and this is the death of the
world and the birth of the dark.
- L. Maruska (via whenthedarkisoldandworn)
Kim Shimmers and the Screech Owl
This Harry Potter fanfiction will be posted, as long as all goes well, every week around midweek.
Chapter 3
Hogwarts Houses
Soon they were arriving at Hogsmeade station and all the students were filing off the train. Kim had now learned from her time on the train that Fred and George were from the Weasley family, a very large wizerding family that, as Kim was told by the twins, if she looked not very hard she would probably spot somewhere in the halls by their red hair. She also learned that the twins were Fifth years, but that they wouldn’t hold Kim’s junior status against her, or at least they would try not to.
As they readied to exit the train, Fred and George helped Kim pry her luggage from the compartment, which was much of an improvement from having to do it herself, being that they stood at least six or seven inches taller than she at 5 feet 4 inches. She attempted to calm Strix back into her cage, but she refused.
“Quite a bird ya’ got there,” Fred said, watching Kim curse at Strix to get in the cage.
“You win,” she said, rolling her head and letting the owl fluff itself happily on her shoulder.
“I dunno, it’s kinda cute,” George commented.
“Thank you, George,” Kim said with emphasize, looking pointedly at Fred as she gathered her things and lead the way off the train. The boys followed her onto the platform. First years were being led off to take a boat across the lake, but everyone else was going a different way.
“Come on, this way,” Fred said, waving a hand at Kim to follow. He brought her to a carriage lead by large black, drawn looking beats. Kim walked past the entrance to the carriage dropping her luggage and eyeing the horse-like creatures. They looked half dead, with curved beaks and skin hanging slack on gaunt bones. Their wings were like a bats with little worn holes from age or fighting in the webbing. What are you? she wondered silently, her eyes moving over the creatures hungrily.
George hung off the door to the carriage and looked at Kim oddly, and then at the beast. “Those dementors might’ve affected you more than you thought,” he said with a smirk. Kim frowned, not understanding what he meant. She looked back at the creatures and then at George’s vacant expression.
“Of course!” she realized allowed. “Thestrals! They’re even more spooky in person.”
“What?” George said, actual concern making its way into his warm brown eyes.
“Oh, nothing, don’t mind me. I swear I’m not crazy, but you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so… in ya’ go,” she said shooing him into the carriage. They rode the short distance up to the castle, all the while Fred and George discussed their devious plans for the year. Once they began filing into the castle, Kim thought she would follow the boys, who she was more than just beginning to like, and sit with them while they had the customary feast. But a voice called her name over the din of the crowd, so she turned.
“You need to come with me as well,” said an older woman wearing a pointed velvet hat and dignified looking robes. She peered at Kim with light blue eyes over square spectacles.
“Professor McGonagall,” Fred said, surprised.
“What’s she want?” George finished his sentence.
“I- I’ll catch up with you later?” Kim asked, unsure of herself and of the boys liking of her. But as she looked over her shoulder at them they smiled and nodded.
“Definitely,” they both said, and bobbed off into the cowed. Kim followed Professor McGonagall and found that two other students of her age were also tailing her as well, looking just as baffled as she was. The first, a girl with wiry brown hair, looked very familiar to Kim though she couldn’t remember from where. The second was a boy with black messy hair and attractive green eyes peering out kindly behind round glasses.
“Oh, it’s you,” the girl said with recognition. “From the pet shop!”
“Oh!” Kim remembered, but couldn’t place a name still.
“Hermione,” she reminded kindly, seeing Kim’s struggle to remember.
“Right. Kim.”
“Nice to see you again. This is my friend Harry.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kim said with a smile.
“Same to you,” the boy said back, but there was a faint tightness in his gaze, like he was expecting something unpleasant to come along with this greeting. Kim couldn’t imagine what it was.
“Do either of you know what this is all about?”
“No idea,” Harry said, shaking his dark locks, and Hermione didn’t really say anything. Kim just hummed and shrugged, because they were approaching McGonagall’s office anyway. Once within, she motioned for the three of them to sit down. They did so, Hermione and Kim on the stiff old couch and Harry on the arm chair beside it.
“Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter,” McGonagall said. Kim glanced over to see Harry open his mouth to reply but hesitate and stammer, his face flushing slightly.
“I’m fine,” he finally insisted. Harry Potter, Kim thought, putting his two names together. It sounds familiar…
August 9, 2015
"There are no such things as ‘weak’ or ‘meek’ women. Just women who haven’t unleashed the dangerous..."
There are no such things as ‘weak’ or ‘meek’ women. Just women who haven’t unleashed the dangerous wolf that lives inside them yet.
So go ahead, keep pushing her around and calling her names.
I hear there is a full moon tonight.
”- The Wolf Inside Her | Nikita Gill (via untamedunwanted)
