So how’s it going? Ready to run screaming into the night? I’m so not ready!!!
Dates to Remember:
November 5th – I should be seeing at least a rough draft.
November 15th – You should have a Title and image ideas sent to taibhrigh. If a banner idea isn’t turned in by this date, a generic banner will be used for Advent and a specific story banner will be made for the Archive after Advent.
November 25th – I should final draft and banner in my inbox.
“NO.” Erik and Azazel yelled at the same time.
The two looked at each other, then fist pumped.
“Dude when did we become parents?” Azazel smirked at his friend.
“I think that would be when you fucked Raven.” Erik shook his head. Peter coughed, only to get glared at by his father. “Hush, you’re already in trouble.”
“We want to help Vatar.” Kurt looked at the two of them. “I can teleport all the way to the city to St. Patricks.”
“Why are you teleporting there?” Azazel bent down to look at his son. He was so beautiful, and made him so proud. He really wished he could spend more time with him. Maybe after all this, he would take more time. The idea that he never saw his boy grow up, upset him more than he cared to admit, let alone the idea his son wouldn’t survive.
“I like their St. Michael statue.” He said with a smile. “Father Gregory is also nice, but I prefer Mass here with Father Angel.”
Azazel stood and looked over at his friend, eyes narrowing. “My son is going to Mass?”
“What do you expect when an Anglican and Jew raise a teleporting mutant, of course he becomes Catholic.” Erik rolled his eyes. “He loved the stories of Angels as a toddler, specifically St. Michael and the Archangels. He didn’t like normal picture books, just the big ones with the angel images. When he was threeish he popped into the local Catholic church, by accident. Father Angel gave him some food, let him play with his St. Michael statue, and then called us. He’s a priest Azazel and he didn’t blink at your son.”
“I would like to meet this man. Well if he is to follow Christian Symbolism, at least he went for the badass of them all.” Azazel patted Kurt’s shoulder. “You’re still not helping, you are small and not quite at Archangel status.”
“But I can move people.”
“And I can get around people.”
Erik looked at the two of them, knowing they would go into this war without hesitation. He hated the humans for starting this. He hated Mystique for being who he would’ve been. “You are too young.”
“Sean and Alex were not that young when you guys went against Shaw.” Peter argued back.
“Let me put this in terms you will understand.” Erik looked at the two of them. “If something happened to you. I would kill Trask, and anyone around him without hesitation. I already want to, I already want to fight, but your safety is keeping me tempered.”
Kurt poofed, then landed in his Vatar’s arms, something he hadn’t done in years. “No Vatar, you wouldn’t. You are a good man, I see it.” He patted Erik’s cheeks. “We stay.”
Erik held him close, then set him back down to the ground. “Peter?”
“I get it man.” In a rare show for the teenager, he hugged his father. He stepped back and looked around the room, at the rest of the X-Men. “But I want to be trained at some point.”
“You’ve already ordered your uniform, it’s on backorder until your twenty-five, and graduated college.” Alex snarked at the kid, making Erik snort. “Same with you kid.”
Kurt and Peter smirked.
Azazel caught Erik when he stumbled suddenly. “You okay?”
“It’s Charles.” He shook his head, trying to absorb the mental anguish that was suddenly coursing through him.
“He went to talk to himself.” Hank frowned. “Wanted to find out what happened.”
“Fucking idiot.” Erik stalked off towards Cerebro. “Get some rest, we’re leaving in the morning.”
“It would be wise if we stay away from those two.” Alex suggested, a smirk on his face. “How about some food?”
“I could teleport us to another country?” Azazel suggested as Kurt took his hand to lead him to the kitchen area, it wasn’t often Papa stayed long enough for a meal.
“We might take you up on that offer.” Hank smirked as they moved away from the main sections of the school.
For the Month of October we’re showcasing 50 items at 50% Off.
All of our Halloween pieces.
Selected Fandom pieces.
A few bookmarks and keychains.
So stop by and see what’s for sale … this deal is not one to miss.
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PS: We’re close to hitting 100 Favorites on the shop – if you have an Etsy Account and haven’t favorite the shop – please do!!
PSS: If you have a facebook account please follow Sylum Vault Facebook Page. You’ll get notifications when we post new items on the shop.
Bass Reeves was born into slavery in Crawford County, Arkansas, in 1838. He was named after his grandfather, Basse Washington. Reeves and his family were slaves of Arkansas state legislator William Steele Reeves. When Bass was eight (about 1846), William Reeves moved to Grayson County, Texas, near Sherman in the Peters Colony. Bass Reeves may have served William Steele Reeves’ son, Colonel George R. Reeves, who was a sheriff and legislator in Texas, and a one-time Speaker of the Texas House of Representativesuntil his death from rabies in 1882.
During the American Civil War, Bass parted company with George Reeves, perhaps “because Bass beat up George after a dispute in a card game.” Bass fled north into the Indian Territory. There he lived with the Cherokee, Seminole, and Creek Indians, learning their languages, until he was freed by the Thirteenth Amendment, which abolished slavery, in 1865.
As a freedman, Reeves moved to Arkansas and farmed near Van Buren. He married Nellie Jennie from Texas, with whom he had 11 children.
Reeves and his family farmed until 1875, when Isaac Parker was appointed federal judge for the Indian Territory. Parker appointed James F. Fagan as U.S. marshal, directing him to hire 200 deputy U.S. marshals. Fagan had heard about Reeves, who knew the Indian Territory and could speak several Indian languages. He recruited him as a deputy; Reeves was the first black deputy to serve west of the Mississippi River. Reeves was initially assigned as a deputy U.S. marshal for the Western District of Arkansas, which had responsibility also for the Indian Territory. He served there until 1893. That year he transferred to the Eastern District of Texas in Paris, Texas, for a short while. In 1897, he was transferred again, serving at the Muskogee Federal Court in the Indian Territory.
Reeves worked for 32 years as a federal peace officer in the Indian Territory, and became one of Judge Parker’s most valued deputies. Reeves brought in some of the most dangerous criminals of the time, but was never wounded, despite having his hat and belt shot off on separate occasions.
In addition to being a marksman with a rifle and pistol, Reeves developed superior detective skills during his long career. When he retired in 1907, Reeves claimed to have arrested over 3,000 felons. He is said to have shot and killed 14 outlaws to defend his own life.
One of his sons, Bennie Reeves, was charged with the murder of his wife. Deputy Marshal Reeves was disturbed and shaken by the incident, but allegedly demanded the responsibility of bringing Bennie to justice. Bennie was eventually tracked and captured, tried, and convicted. He served his time in Fort Leavenworth in Kansas before being released, and reportedly lived the rest of his life as a responsible and model citizen.
Reeves was himself once charged with murdering a posse cook. At his trial before Judge Parker, Reeves was represented by former United States Attorney W.H.H. Clayton, who was a colleague and friend. Reeves was acquitted.
For More Information Contact the Vampire Council Library
Over the years as a lawman Bass had met and worked with Noah Dixon and Jimmy Hickok. He and Noah talked over the years, he had always wondered about the two lawmen’s relationship. After a long night of talking, he finally asked.
Noah told him about Vampires and Mates, and that he was willing to offer Bass the opportunity. Especially as he had done a great many good things.
He took time to think about and the next time he saw Noah, he agreed.
Yes, I do realize it’s not afternoon, but figured this was a good day to post the next segment of the Afternoon Fic: Save the Mutant Save the World. As to get it back onto it’s normalish schedule.
PS: *hands tissues* *runs away*
Logan had never been in Cerebro.
The Professor had refused to allow anyone in, but Hank.
Even Mystique didn’t get inside the room.
He stood watching as the lights filled the room, first all the specs were white, and then they slowly turning to red. “Are these Mutants?”
“Yes.” Charles answered with awe in his voice. “Each year there are more, some born, some manifesting. All beautiful. I’ve reached out to those seeking something, to get them to come to the school. But times are rough. No one trusts anyone, especially after many disappeared. It was warming to discover how many parents, friends – humans who were concerned for their unique family members. It was also terrifying to find out how many sold them.”
Logan looked at the vast amount, wanting to reach out and touch.
He had watched as his people had been wiped out. First by mobs, then the camps, and lastly hunted to eradication by the Sentinels.
“Can you focus on one?” He asked distracted by everything.
“Yes.”
Charles focused on Raven, knowing exactly what her mind felt like. He found her sitting in the airport.
Read more“The Return of Afternoon Fic: Save the Mutant Save the World (Part 14)”
And you thought we were done!
From you can see from the vast amount of Posts!! We have a huge storyline developed for these characters. This had started off as just a few characters, and suddenly became a Dynasty with it’s own Nexus.
On that note – I thought I would toss out some interesting figures we’ve collected while prepping for McFassii Fortnight.
Michael Fassbender Characters – 16
James McAvoy Characters – 10
Sir Patrick Stewart Characters – 4
Sir Ian McKellen Characters – 4
Chris Pratt Characters – 3
George Eads Characters – 2
Jeffry Dean Morgan
Pierfrancesco Favino (Bastard had to get in there somewhere)
Imogen Poots
They are their own Nexus, but has ties to other Nexuses within Sylum. So it may seem random, but …
Nothing is True – Everything is Connected.
Now that you’ve survived McFassy Fortnight, go back and rewatch the video! It will make more sense now 🙂
One last thing … we posted a lot of snippets. Some small teasers, other’s beginnings of major stories, and a few hot sexy moments.
For Advent we’ll put out the next segment for 2 of 5 storylines we showcased. Vote for 2 from the list of 5 below.
The McFassii (yes that’s what I took to calling the bastards) wore me out.
So it’s nap time!
Born in 1271 into the royal house of Aragon, Elizabeth was the daughter of Infante Peter (later King King Peter III) and his wife Constance of Sicily and the sister of three kings: Alfonso II and James II of Aragon and Frederick III of Sicily.
Elizabeth showed an early enthusiasm for her faith. She said the full Divine Office daily, fasted and did other penance, as well as attended twice-daily choral Masses. Religious fervor was common in her family, as she could count several members of her family who were already venerated as saints. The most notable example is her great-aunt, St. Elizabeth of Hungary, after whom she was named.
Her marriage to King Denis of Portugal was arranged in 1281 when she was 10 years old, receiving the towns of Óbidos, Abrantes and Porto de Mós as part of her dowry. It was only in 1288 that the wedding was celebrated, when Denis was 26 years old, while Elizabeth was 17. Denis, a poet and statesman, was known as the Rei Lavrador (English: Farmer King), because he planted a large pine forest near Leiria to prevent the soil degradation that threatened the region.
Elizabeth quietly pursued the regular religious practices of her youth and was devoted to the poor and sick. Naturally, such a life was a reproach to many around her and caused ill will in some quarters. Eventually, her prayer and patience succeeded in converting her husband, who had been leading a sinful life.
Elizabeth took an active interest in Portuguese politics and was a decisive conciliator during the negotiations concerning the Treaty of Alcañices, signed by Denis and Sancho IV of Castile in 1297 (which fixed the borders between the two countries). In 1304, the Queen and Denis returned to Spain to arbitrate between Fernando IV of Castile and James II of Aragon, brother of Elizabeth.[4]
She had two children: Constance, who married King Ferdinand IV of Castile and Afonso, who became King Alfoso IV of Portugal.
Elizabeth would serve as intermediary between her husband and Afonso, during the Civil War between 1322 and 1324. The Infante greatly resented the king, whom he accused of favoring the king’s illegitimate son, Afonso Sanches. Repulsed to Alenquer, which supported the Infante, Denis was prevented from killing his son through the intervention of the Queen. As legend holds, in 1323, Elizabeth, mounted on a mule, positioned herself between both opposing armies on the field of Alvalade in order to prevent the combat. Peace returned in 1324, once the illegitimate son was sent into exile, and the Infante swore loyalty to the king.
It was after her husband’s death, she discovered Wenceslaus’ secret, who had come to pay his respects. They had met a few times over the years, both enjoying their discussion on faith and devotion.
He told her about Vampires and what it was like to live the life of a ‘Saint’. She thought about his story, and adored his Mate Cinderella. She prayed and soon knew her answer.
Thank you for participating in McFassy Fortnight.
Believe it or not there is a method to the madness, and a reason for everything we do in Sylum. So yes, all these characters – this Family Dynasty – is all connected. As their stories start to be showcased and developed, you’ll start to see all the inter-workings.
We hope you enjoyed the glimpse of these characters, despite all the postings!!
Please leave any last thoughts, questions, or comments. There was a lot of information these past two weeks!
Next up: Sylum Advent
As a Jedi Knight, he was required to be as well versed as possible in the rituals and customs of places to which was was sent on diplomatic mission. It was mostly simple and straight forward, and there were times when he could clearly see the patterns in how belief systems and convictions worked their way into the consciousness of different peoples through different channels and different means. It would make for a fascinating study one day if he was ever sidelined into becoming and administrator or a teacher.
Not that he wanted such a role.
There was far too much else to learn, for him to settle down and live quietly.
Besides, he rather enjoyed the challenges of being a diplomat.
It wasn’t always boring meetings and politely misinterpreted commentary. Sometimes there was Lightsabers and actual battles to be waged.
Jean Luc Picard stared at the person in front of them, wondering if he missed something in the briefing. He glanced at his second, trying not to snicker at Riker trying his hardest not to react.
“You’re late.” Riker pointed out, inwardly cringing at the accusation, he just had no idea what else to say. They had been at the Grey Heaven’s docks for an hour.
He was ignoring Picard’s side-eye, and the snickering he could hear from at least two of the crew members behind him.
“Wizards are never late, nor are we early. We arrive precisely when we are meant to.”
“Are you kidding me?” Riker shut his mouth in horror of what just came out of it. “I apologize, I didn’t quite get your name.”
“Gandalf.”
“Seriously?”
Picard glared at his second, then turned towards the wizard. And that was the thing, he was standing in front of a bonafide wizard. Not that it should be that shocking, he had actually met Dresdon once, add in his own family line that tied into Mutants, and Charles Xavier – seeing a wizard or an alien isn’t shocking.
It was the fact it was Gandalf the Grey.
As if he just stepped into the Lord of the Rings book.
Which considering the fact he knows Aragorn and Boromir – it still shouldn’t be shocking, but somehow this just seemed weirder than usual.
“Gandalf, I’m Captain Picard and we’ve been sent by the Federation, with cooperation from the Jedi Council to check on you and the inhabitants, as the Separatists have been moving through this territory and according to our briefing, this planet requests to be mostly left alone.”
“I had received reports from Yoda about this Separatist movement, but so far they have not shown themselves here, and if Dooku wants to try … well I kicked his ass when we were in classes.” Gandalf leaned against his staff.
“Wait your a Jedi?” Riker was now completely confused.
“Yes. How do you think I pull of the ‘Wizard’ part of this job. This planet is well protected, once they got rid of the …”
“One Ring?” He asked before he could stop himself.
“Yes.” Gandalf was giving Riker an odd look. “The people of Middle Earth came together, Hobbits, Dwarves, Elves, and Man to dump the Ring into the fires of Modor. I’m not sure if it was destroyed, but the Goa’uld was not coming through it anymore that was for sure.”
“The one ring is a Stargate?” Riker couldn’t help the smile. “That’s amazing…”
Gandalf looked at Picard. “What is with him?”
“We have a book series, called The Lord of the Rings back on Earth – it’s the story of Frodo Baggins taking the One Ring to Modor to be destroyed, except it was an actual ring.”
“I could see that, considering how many of those were stolen from their homes. Then must know, from that moment on there has always a Frodo Baggins, Aragorn, and Gandalf … which at this moment in time is me.”
“You weren’t born Gandalf?” Picard asked.
“Heaven’s no. I fit the part, and accepted the role. This is more my retirement. It’s usually very quiet only times when the Dragon acts up, or the Elves and Dwarves poke at each other. But if these Separatists think they can come here to cause havoc. The people of this world will unite and fight back.”
“Would you show us around?” Picard asked, shocking Riker. “We can change if need be.”
“Sure. You can play the role of Rangers.” He grinned waving his staff, motioning for them to follow.
“Sir…” Riker stepped closer to him, voice quiet.
“Tell the men we’ll be staying for a while.” Picard informed him. “It will just be you and me.”
“What is going on?”
“What’s going on is, I just found my Mate, and he’s a wizard.”
It was an old song, written millennia ago for Saint Alia of the Knife, famed Aunt to Leto II, and sister to Maud’dib.
The people had sung it in their market places, and at great celebrations in her honor.
Inama nushif
Al asir hiy ayish
She is eternal
No malice can touch
Duncan had read about her in the Archives left to his care at Dar-Es-Balat by the God Emperor himself in those final days before His Division in the desert.
He’d read about a lot of things that might otherwise have been left to the sands, and was made the wiser in so doing, for he knew more of the history and legacy of Arrakis than any other living Soul by the time of Leto’s re-emergence from the deep Sareer.
And that knowledge made him as dangerous as he was clever.
The last of a long line of men who bore the name Idaho, Duncan had become the most respected advisor in the Court of the Divided One.
It was a name that rather amused him, considering what had happened so very recently to actually unite him that much closer to those who were already his lovers.
Through their Bond, he could sense contentment and peace.
Which he took to be a blessing.
Such moment were all often few and far between.
When he found them, they took his breath away.
Their private wing of the renovated Fortress Citadel, was blissfully quiet.
He could feel the air being stirred by fan blades in the ceiling that mimicked the warm breeze which blew endless across the high walls of the Fortress defenses.
It was likely to be a beautiful evening, as recent storms had cleared the sky, the day’s business was concluded, and there were no official functions to attend for at least the next two days.
Someone outside was singing that old song, it’s music floating in from the Square, but the words had been changed to reflect not the tyrant Alia, but the return of her nephew, the God Emperor, Leto II.
Inam nushif
Al asir hiy ayish
He is eternal
No malice can touch
Lia-anni
Zaratha zarati
Singular and ageless
Perpetually bound
Hatt al-hudad
Al-maahn al-baiid
Ay-yah idare
Adamm malum
Through the tempest
Be it deluge or sand
A singular voice
Speaks through the torrent
Duncan paused, pulling back the Spice Fiber drapes across the archway that led to the bedroom.
Their space had been decorated as a fusion of Fremen and Arrakian styles, in a manner that felt comfortable to all three of them.
Familiar and secure.
The bed lay over under the windows in the light of the setting sun that was fading over the last remaining acres of the Forbidden Forest.
Arrakis was also re-emerging from the past, becoming again the Dune of old, transformed once more by the Sandworms into the great desert it was always meant to be.
No other illumination was necessary to show him everything he need see, and as he put his books down on the table to his right, just inside the room, so he smiled warmly, for there upon the softest white sheets were his Mates, wrapped naked in each other’s arms.
Leto always seemed so very small and fragile when compared to his Fremen Naib, who had for decades held together the last remaining true Sietch at Jacurutu with nothing but a Crysknife and sheer bloody minded tenacity.
Lia-anni
Zaratha zarati
Singular and ageless
Perpetually bound
Indeed they were.
Separate journeys finally intertwined.
Or at least that was how Duncan had reasoned it until Leto patiently explained to him that everything was connected, woven together as a great fabric whose strands touched others in an endless, seamless whole.
It was a considerable burden for one who looked so youthful and innocent, to be so wise and ancient.
A dichotomy between truth and perception, knowledge and expectation.
The famous God Emperor of Dune was no more than a small slip of a boy now to the unknowing eye.
He lay on his back, fast asleep, and seeming all the more vulnerable for so tranquil a pause.
His head, a perfect fit to his Naib’s broad right shoulder, was crowned with tousled dark red hair, through which Macbeth ran his fingers, slowly and gently.
Soothing.
Calming.
It was their way whenever Leto dreamt of the sands, of being once more Shai-Hulud, moving deep beneath the desert’s surface, building the future.
Such dreams were not distress, but instead the painful longing for an existence no other Soul could ever properly fathom.
Inam nushif al a sadarr
Eann zaratha zarati
Forever his voice sings
Through the ages eternally bound
Kali bakka a tishuf ahatt
Al hudad aiman dali
Sacrifice is his gift
One that cannot be equalled
Macbeth slid his left arm around Leto’s abdomen, drawing him closer, their bodies moving sensuously against each other.
The sheets barely covered them, and the Naib’s arousal was more than obvious as he kissed his Emperor’s forehead with tender concern.
Duncan could only wonder at how Macbeth normally seemed so very fierce, so very harsh, angular and sharp edged, carved by the desert winds and remorseless sun. He was ruthless, vicious, unwavering in the defense of both his people and his lovers. But lying there with no other concern save the immediate comfort of Leto’s presence, it appeared as though he somehow softened, his edges smoothing out to lift the burdens from his Soul.
At least for a while.
His shimmering blue, half-lidded glance in Duncan’s direction was a promise of passion that could not denied.
Inam nushif
Al asir hiy ayish
He is eternal
No malice can touch
Lia-anni
Zaratha zarati
Singular and ageless
Perpetually bound
Duncan undid his shirt and let it drift to the floor.
They were indeed perpetually bound.
Bonded.
Forever.
Part of that endless fabric.
As vital as the Spice that was once again flowing from Dune.
As necessary to the universe as life itself.
Eann zaratha zarati
Through the ages eternally bound
