A tale of two Angels... HW day three[ campy visuals-wise, but sooo for real, heart, bodymind and soul wise]

picture one is the raw beauty me who has been in "Irked Protector" mode for the "light" of Others stumbling around in enemy territory, having faith in demons waiting for the chance to devour them... who has stayed keyed to the moment She woke up in the midst of the pit she hadn't realized She was in out there being a Creative professional. It's like she got stuck in retrieval/recon mission mode to drag other sparks out [ with them kicking and screaming, an almost wholly thankless gig]...a specialist, to be sure, with her own Light utilized in the cave of darkness at her forge, sure her light is sustained but it is barely shared beyond "Florence nightingale battlefield retrieval lantern-style. It’s poured into production work[weapons].

....prepping for outfitting others, sure... but groaning against the reality of having to go 'out there' expected to play nice with the infestation that everyone was giving a pass as it devoured kids left and right.. The They Live Rowdy Roddy Piper lenses are deeply embedded, but she's fussing against having to go save the fn world like Bruce Willis in the 5th Element alll across that brow that is set like flint as she gears up to fight forward.

Picture two is me who remembers wtf she's fighting for. Those drills were just exercises to keep her muscles loose and she is grateful for the workout. but her mission is to outfit the others left for dead FOR their fights. To outfit her battalions of Adult survivors of Child Abuse who ran so hard, fast and far out of original hells that they didnt even recognize the bogies and landmines in the fields they escaped into. She's not dragging anybody out, she's not waking anybody up.

She's gone from Hephaestus mode to Hermes...the Deliverer of the weaponry Hephaestus-her wrought... to the ones waiting wild-eyed for the reinforcement and gear-up God promised them would Would be showing up on the horizon. She is in Kokopelli Mana mode... trekking to deliver the goods right into the hands of those waiting for it.

She has her mission and it fucking rocks...and there's not an Inch of the fn infestation in question that she HAS to play fn nice with. It's not about the demons who Do the dumb shit. It's about dispensing the gear that gets the warriors who already survived them "suited & Booted" for their respective wars.

I don't have an Irked Protector bone left in my body. Not my gig, not my mode. Not my function.

Not dragging anybody out... the gift of the younger me was a now easy affinity developed for being able to slide in...scoping out the guerrilla warfare experts who "came to" in the shadows and want to rain down the most healing spiritual tKos on those monsters keeping the captives THEY are meant to move chained ... to set them free.

Brazen, mercurial brimstone throwing Angel of Death[ inna good way lolol] who has finally embraced the next Level of her mission for the punchdrunk joy it contains.

photo three is the Wild One able to be at rest on, on mission. Enjoying the ride, the service she gives and walking out what she came here[ and came to as Her] to fn do lol.

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A tale of two Angels... HW day three[ campy visuals-wise, but sooo for real, heart, bodymind and soul wise]