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LATE BUT SAFE ! hizo este sorteo estrella con esta foto increíble que hicimos con @fedeparga_photo @jorgerey_jr @gicepeda.hair . Ahora los invito a participar a Uds, chics, de un sorteo : qué les parece ser de una clas…




LATE BUT SAFE ! hizo este sorteo estrella con esta foto increíble que hicimos con @fedeparga_photo @jorgerey_jr @gicepeda.hair . Ahora los invito a participar a Uds, chics, de un sorteo : qué les parece ser …





















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Avui s han fet la XXXI Marxa Popular d Sant Gregori i la Sant Grau Trail a la Vall d Llémena Esplendits recorregut i organització en un dia caluros










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Red and Gold Chapters 1 & 2: Whispers and Blackened Magic—Pandora Hearts Fic for Phsecretsanta2018 (Vince/Ada Pirate AU)

Fic Title: Red and Gold

Fic Synopsis: Memories of a strange music box in Ada’s occult shop intertwine with a present where she meets the equally mysterious Vincent Nightray…

Notes: This was my Phsecretsanta2018 gift for @endoreon!

Chapter Titles: Whispers and Blackened Magic

Chapter 1 Preview: 

Though the weather was perfectly calm outside, she could hear rain beginning to pound.

“Oz Vessalius, your sin is…”

The pronunciation felt like it was coming down on her own head, like the past-born rain.

She was that little girl again, soaked through with water and fear, begging to be let in. The rain breathed; it was talking to her with the fluttery voices of those she loved, and those she had grown to hate. Some words broke through the crowd—brushing shoulders and pushing others down, louder, stronger—but the memories were so many by now that the whispers seemed like a mob.

Hands shivering, shutting her eyes tight, she turned the key,

—It clicked—

Placed her fingers on the wood of the lid—

The rain was so loud….

“Your very—“

And lifted it.

The action was like a conductor bringing down his baton; those whispers, the breath of the wind and rain, were all simultaneously silenced.

She glanced around, as if she would be able to see their smoke dissipating in the air.

The silence was almost worse…Almost.

Because silence is empty, and can be filled.

When she tipped it open, no tiny dancer twirled around. No frilly art or pretty words decorated the inside. She could see the cogs beneath, like if a ship’s deck were glass, and you could see the rudders, all the working parts and windswept waves that kept it going.

Though the look of it was plain, and rather unexciting, the inside of the lid held a peculiar inscription:

To he who dares play this song

You may yet still know it wrong

If it’s for redemption that you’ve asked

And the answer, you believe, in long awaited past

Without map, without wind, in the end, no sign of treasure

Too late, the hands of time will show you your own measure.

Upon seeing the words, questions boiled in her thoughts. What could this mean? What was she looking for in opening it? If she wasn’t looking for redemption, did that mean it was safe to listen? What about the past? Why would she want to hear whispers of, look into, the past? But if she didn’t…what was she doing here? Could this be more than simple attempts to shut the whispers up? Was there real temptation behind her current actions?

Then, without warning, or winding, the music began to play.

*****

You can read this fic here on Ao3 (chapter 1, chapter 2), here on tumblr (chapter 1, chapter 2), and here on ff.net (chapter 1, chapter 2)!

Red and Gold Chapter 2: Blackened Magic—Pandora Hearts Fic for Phsecretsanta2018 (Vince/Ada Pirate AU) (Full Chapter)

Fic Title: Red and Gold

Fic Synopsis: Memories of a strange music box in Ada’s occult shop intertwine with a present where she meets the equally mysterious Vincent Nightray…

Notes: This was my Phsecretsanta2018 gift for @endoreon!

Chapter Title: Blackened Magic

Chapter 2:

“More meat, Seaweed-head, more meat!”

“There isn’t any more meat left, Stupid Rabbit!” Gilbert held up the empty plate that should have been enough for all of them.

She blinked at the empty plate. “Then you will be punished for disrespecting your Captain!” she took it from him and bonked his head with it.

“You’re not the Captain!”

“Oh yeah? Then who is?”

“Oz is!”

“Well he’s my manservant, so…”

“Are you really this stupid?!”

As they continued to fight, Ada tried and failed not to laugh. Luckily, her amusement went unnoticed by the two, on account of their focus on each other, and the noisiness of full table. Though her brother, Oz turned to her, smiling himself.

“They don’t get along very well, do they?” Ada mused.

They had decided to meet at a tavern a little way from the Vessalius manor for dinner, and Oz and his crew (well, he called them his crew, but—as Gil and Alice demonstrated—they often fought over who the true ‘Captain’ of their ship was) took up half the tavern.

Oz and Ada sat next to each other, chatting about school, and Oz’s latest endeavor into the Cheshire Cat’s dimension. Gilbert and Alice, of course, sat across from them, squabbling. Oscar sat at the end so he could get up and get more drinks whenever he wanted, already telling wildly exaggerated stories about things like how he tamed the sea. Sharon chuckled pleasantly at everyone’s antics, and Break across from him, teased drunk Oscar, and had managed to steal all the dessert before anyone finished the main course (they didn’t have much, so he had to do this to satisfy his sweet tooth…if that was possible. They would have demanded for some themselves, but anyone who dared attempt to get between Break and his sweets found that that sword at his side was looking rather sharp).

“It seems that way. But I think it’s just because they actually care about each other a lot.” Oz smiled.

“Say Oni-chan,” Ada drummed her fingers on the table, “you were telling me about looking for Alice’s memories, did you ever find any interesting objects or books in that dimension?”

“Uhh, we saw a lot of weird stuff, but no. At least, nothing to take back. We were kinda busy, you know. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious!” her voice was especially high-pitched.

There was a murmuring from the front door. They looked up to see that two people had walked in, and apparently they were something to whisper about.

One was a young man with golden hair, and a gold eye, while the other eye covered with a patch. Metal jingled as he walked in. His clothing was similar to Oz and his crew’s, though a little fancier; in black and silver, he wore a tri cornered hat, a long jacket, with a brown sash that held his bag, a black belt with a gun holstered on it, and black boots. The girl next to him was much shorter, younger, and had silver hair and eyes—eyes that had dimmed to a hollow grey, like there was nothing behind them—and she wearing a tattered white dress, with a blue corset over it, and a sword on her belt.

“Who’s that?” Ada tapped Oz on the shoulder.

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Red and Gold Chapter 1: Whispers—Pandora Hearts Fic for Phsecretsanta2018 (Vince/Ada Pirate AU) (Full Chapter)

Fic Title: Red and Gold

Fic Synopsis: Memories of a strange music box in Ada’s occult shop intertwine with a present where she meets the equally mysterious Vincent Nightray…

Notes: This was my Phsecretsanta2018 gift for @endoreon!

Chapter Title: Whispers

Chapter 1: 

Ada placed an old compass on the shelf, between an antique sextant and a dull crystal.

She turned to face the rest of the shop, smiling and putting her hands on her hips, proud of her work; she had just finished tidying up the place, putting everything in order, and could finally have a moment to relax, and admire the way everything gleamed.

Outside the sun always shone bright, reflecting off the white sand, sending green shadows onto the ground as it sifted through the palm leaves. Inside, the low light that filled the shop, emanating from candles, lanterns, as well as a few crystals hanging from nets, (and the occasional mysterious object), bouncing off the wooden walls, creating an atmosphere of dormant animation in the darkened place. Almost like the shop itself was lying in wait for something to happen, like if you broke a single object, all the spirits would come spilling out, and the place would live.

“Mew!”

Ada knelt down to scratch her cats’ ears.

She had had this shop for a few years now; for a long time, she had tried to learn about the occult, in attempts to bring her brother back from the Abyss, and in the midst of her research, had become a bit of an enthusiast, and had collected too many occult artifacts for the spare Vessalius house to hold. She didn’t use all of them, so she decided to start selling them to interested parties. From there she started collecting things just to sell. When she was at school, or otherwise couldn’t man the shop, she had servants watch over the place, (she warned them not to tell her uncle, or anyone who might not approve, or start spreading rumors). She had also hired someone to find more artifacts—(at sea, buried beneath the sand, anything)—both for her own fascination, as well as the shop.

Those who knew of her knew that she wasn’t just some collector, she was very knowledgeable in the ways of the occult, and novice practitioners, or fanatics, would come to her for advice on spells, or the authenticity of the objects they had found on their own. Some of them genuinely shared her interests—(she could talk to them for hours if she didn’t curb her excitement)—but sometimes people came in who were more…creepy than anything. Of course, by the nature of her hobby, often she herself couldn’t tell the difference.

“Now, now, you’ll have to wait outside. You’re not old enough to take part in the ceremony yet.”

Ada gasped, spinning around wildly. “Who’s there?!”

“Mew!” Snowdrop responded.

She petted her cat once more, looking around.

No one. Wooden walls and a breeze.

She breathed out. It wasn’t exactly unheard of that objects such as these could give off strange visions, or spill voices into one’s ears, and she was no stranger to the dark and the dangerous. It was surely just a particularly powerful object, which was simply doing its job, and someone would buy it soon enough.

Despite her mind’s attempts to reassure her, she probably should have been listening more carefully.

For the next few weeks, intermittently when she was in her shop, whispers would tread the air around her. Simple words, cries, accusations, voices that—dare she admit it?—she recognized.

Her brother’s, her uncle’s, her father’s, and—somehow worst of all—her own.

Her own voice, sounding so pitiful, so lost, and tiny.

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“… Hay un viento que arrastra los jirones de niebla
y una mano enemiga que desgarra la niebla.
Hay siempre mar de fondo,
siempre esconde el amor su aurora oscura… “

                                                                                                    Benítez Reyes

Ph: BrassaïFemme-amphore (Transmutation) , ca. 1934–1935