Chaos Walking

Just some updates ‘cause I feel like rambling :3

-

First of all, to all the new Chaos Walking blogs -

WELCOME TO THE FANDOM. :D<3

I haven’t been able to check out all of your blogs yet or even much of the new CW posts, but I will soon!

Next up. So this wonderful human being here tweeted about the CW necklace I sent her.

AND PATRICK NESS TWEETED BACK.

^ That was literally my reaction in order.

I think I almost peed my pants. And for all I know I did. I’m still in too much shock to check.

And also, a couple weeks ago I asked you guys to send suggestions for new necklace designs. I forgot to mention that I bought a couple of these lockets with flowers on the front and so I tried thinking of Viola-related designs. And a certain genius commented to do a 1391 necklace which was basically perfect for it. :D

It’s a bit harder to make. The ‘1391’ was typewritten and it took me like 4 tries to get the paper at the right size to fit in the locket :P It’s also slightly a bit more unpredictable. I’m not sure if I have enough of that leaf whachamacallit on the 4th photo too :/ anyway, just wanted to know what your opinions are. What do you think?

Also, school’s starting back up tomorrow where I’m from so I’m sorry if I’m a bit late in replying to your messages. But my Knife of Never Letting Go book is marred with post-its on pages with conversashuns and paragraphs I’ll be posting or trying to translate into a photo. I’m gonna try to cram as much as I can today. I already have a couple in queue :D

So yeah, I’m still open for suggestions on necklace designs. You can submit a photo if you want :) or just comment below?

And I find myself watching Viola.

The trail of dust on the far hilltop follows us as we run, pulling ahead slowly as the day gets older and finally disappearing in the distance and I watch her checking it as we hurry on. I watch her run next to me, flinching at the aches in her legs. I watch her rub them when we rest and watch her when she drinks from the water bottles.

Now that I’ve seen her, I can’t stop seeing her.

She catches me. “What?”

“Nothing,” I say and look away cuz I don’t know either.

-

Viola runs in front of me.

I watch her run.

-

I reach in thru the plastic, rubbing my fingers across the cover. It’s soft to the touch and the binding still gives off a faint whiff of leather.

The book. My ma’s book. It’s come all the way with us. Survived it’s own injury. Just like us.

I look up at Viola.

She catches me again.

“What?” she says.

“Nothing.” I put the book back in the bag with the food. “Let’s go.”

-

I feel her silence next to me, feel the pull of it on me and the hollows in my chest and stomach and head and I remember the ache I used to feel when she got too close, how it felt like grief, how it felt like a loss, like I was falling, falling into nothing, how it clenched me up and made me want to weep, made me actually weep.

But now-

Not so much.

I look over to her.

I look away from her to speak. You know that thing with voices you do?”

“Yeah,” she says, quiet.

I take out the book.

“Do you think you could do a Prentisstown voice?”

-

…

“And so for today I have to put this aside.

“Yer calling for me, son, and I will answer.”

Viola stops and there’s only river and my Noise.

I glance over at Viola and I see her face pulled down as sad as my Noise feels. Her eyes are wet and her chin shakes, just barely, just a tremble in the dawn sunlight. She sees me watching, feels my Noise watching her, and she turns away to face the river.

And there in that morning, in the the new sunrise, I realize something.

I realize something important.

Something so important that as it dawns fully I have to stand up.

I know what she’s thinking.

I know what she’s thinking.

Even looking at her back, I know what she’s thinking and feeling and what’s going on inside her.

The way she’s turned her body, the way she’s holding her head and her hands and the book in her lap, the way she’s stiffening a little in her back as she hears all this in my Noise.

I can read it.

I can read her.

Cuz she’s thinking about her own parents and how they came here with hope like my ma. She’s wondering if the hope at the end of the road is just false as the one that was at the end of my ma’s. And she’s taking the words of my ma and putting them into the mouths of her own ma and pa and hearing them say that they love her and miss her and they wish her the world. And she’s taking the song of my ma and weaving it into everything else until it becomes a sad thing all her own.

And it hurts her, but it’s an okay hurt, but it hurts her still, but it’s good, but it hurts.

She hurts.

I know all this.

I know it’s true.

Cuz I can read her.

I can read her Noise even though she ain’t got none.

I know who she is.

I know Viola Eade.

I raise my hands to the side of my head to hold it all in.

“Viola,” I whisper, my voice shaking.

“I know,” she says quietly, putting her arms tight around her, still facing away from me.

And I look at her sitting there and she looks across the river and we wait as the dawn fully arrives, each of us knowing.

Each of us knowing the other.

- Patrick Ness, The Knife of Never Letting Go

“All I’ve got now is you,” she says, her voice still angry. “And all you’ve got now is me. And I’m mad he left, too, and I’m mad my parents died and I’m mad we ever thought of coming to this planet in the first place but that’s how it is and it’s just crap that it’s just us but we can’t do anything about it.”

I still don’t say nothing.

But there she is and I look at her, really look at her, for probably the first time since I saw her cowering next to a dog back in a swamp when I thought she was a spackle.

A lifetime ago.

And she’s telling me she’s all I got.

And that I’m all she’s got.

And I feel a little bit how that feels.

- Patrick Ness, The Knife of Never Letting Go

Anonymous asked: what do you mean by shipping option?

Hi Anon :D
You can go here (http://newprentisstown.tumblr.com/merchandise) and the shipping options will be under ‘Shipping’ which is typed in bold. Better yet, visit this page (http://www.xend.com.ph/InternationalRates.aspx) to see the rates and specifics of the courier I’m using. :)

Thank you for clearing that up! And sorry for any confusion!

(Source: iminato, via nezumi-stole-my-heart)