HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHAOS

So, someone has a birthday today!

(I'm sorry, but you know I had to get one of these in here somewhere, love)

Chaos, you are one of the most generally spectacular people that I've ever met. You've always been there for me, even when it was super inconvenient for you (read as: even when it was one in the morning your time and you were probably about to die of sleep deprivation), and you never fail to make me smile. Your writing is flawless, you're absolutely brilliant, and your creativity has no bounds. You are the boat to my sea, my sun and stars, and I hope this day is just as incredible as you are (if that's even possible).

From me to you (and I promise to send the physical thing to you as soon as I iron it ^^).

And look! More people hope so, too!

Kay was absolutely amazing and wrote you this breathtaking blurb for your mutts:

Barf stretched with the first flush of twilight. Her feathered wings fanned out beneath her, reaching for the earth along with the scythe talons of her hands. She held fast to her perch of bone, swinging upside down as consciousness crept in. Every evening she thought about testing the wriggling pink tongue the gods had given her. Every evening she swung to and fro, to and fro, until she was able to hook her talons around the far side of the skeleton cage, the side she shared with you. Every evening she released herself from the perch and clung to the bones of prey.

It was never her tongue that stopped her, but your majesty.

You coaxed wind from between feathers, heat from rocks, a heartbeat from a beast. Barf rattled in her cage, clambering between the bone pillars to get a better look. When you rent the world with your fire, it singed her chest because she only wanted to feel a little spark of your power.

The sea washed away the last of the ash as, at last, the balors were released. You claimed the beach and she took to the skies. You had a pack to hunt and she had kittens to chase.

For a time, Barf forgot about the bones separating her from you. It was only seafoam and sunrise, easily vanquished. She swept her wings, lashed with her talons, defended with her tail. The dance reached a crescendo, and Barf found herself on the wrong side of man’s steel. They cut her a thousand times, chopping her slowly, so carefully, that she didn’t realize the twilight had crept up again.

The bone prison wasn’t merely beneath them. The same prison formed the core of the kittens that brought her down. Their prison of flesh and bone was more powerful than any she’d ever known. They took her apart, claiming their wealth from her holy form. Every piece of her was recycled, bones fortifying what they had lost. From her cage of bones, they made armor and weapons. From her cage of bones, they would live another day.

But even in death, she had not forgotten you. On seafoam and sunrise, Barf rode until she found the last of you. She had no perch to hold, no bones to contain her. She enveloped you and finally found use for that pink tongue. “You,” she names her god, and exhales her last.

Lalia was a complete sweetheart and wrote this Jessa/Val fluff for you:

Contradiction has taken possession of the air. It is weightless — empty, as air always is by nature — and yet full to bursting, to the point that Valkyrie can't catch her breath. This is a girl who certainly knows that all worthwhile things require effort and sometimes even sacrifice, so her expression doesn't falter if her chest aches. To endure pain is to be rewarded.

This pain isn't the same as raking her nails across the floorboards until her fingers are raw and bloody and it has little to nothing in common with the way she still flinches when beheading chickens during a ritual. There is no sorrow, no self-loathing. Here, flowers bloom in her eyes. Springtime is born in the space between two smiles as they chase away winter's cold together and if Jessa's laugh is a rose unfurling within Valkyrie's heart, then the ache of thorns is only there to save her from holding on too tight. This is the strange greed of loving someone, where needing them turns warmth into burning and untended fires result in casualties.

Here everything within view is too lush, too thriving to fall prey to wildfire. To be in Valkyrie's arms is to lay in a bed of new clover; to meet Jessa's eyes is to forget time and while away an afternoon cloud watching. She holds the sky beyond the sky, blue and bright and forever changing, capturing the imagination of a girl whose everyday life is actual magic. This is what makes Valkyrie weightless, empty because she has given up her heart and simply handed it over. Logic says an idea like that should leave her with a hollow chest, but instead she is bursting. If her heart aches, it is because it has been planted as a seed, putting down roots. These are growing pains.

The wildest fire in this room is the sun and it hangs safely in the sky. Jessa blinks. In that moment Valkyrie counts the stars nestled in the shadows of her lashes and holds her breath til morning.

Anzie was beyond wonderful and wrote you a Flemmeth blurb:

Deep beneath the surface of the Capitol, floating in a cocoon of gelatinous liquid and its life measured in steady mechanized beeps, the dragon breathes. He is entombed in glass, surrounded by many others who have suffered a similar fate - each of them once would-be pets for the simple-minded or single-track weapons destined to die trying.

Flemeth's giant eye watches, unseeing; the cords connecting his body to his brain are darting back and forth across hot metal, tiny blue lights like neurons firing in the brain's mass. His talons curl against the softer underside of his claws, and his jaw cracks open to reveal the wicked ivory teeth that are meant to shred, to kill.

The nano technology muttations start reeling the dragon in. His massive head leaves a trail of bubbles as he breathes in the liquid; the blue lights dart faster, leaving sparks in their wake as one by one, they reconnect Flemeth to his body, return him to his former glory.

"Turning power on to 70... 85... 99... 100 per cent. Mutt #011378, 'Flemeth' is online."

A light flickers in the dragon's brilliant amber eye.

"Nano Technology Program complete."

One day, Flemeth will rise again.

And a bunch of other people wanted to show their love, too!

Nyte:

Chaos I don't even know where to begin. You are one of the most interesting, talented people I've ever had the pleasure to talk to. Along with being insanely talented you're honestly just a joy to talk to. You have almost never failed to put a smile on my face and we should certainly talk more because I loved the talks we did have. (Even if I ended up dating fossils.) I really hope you have a wonderful birthday and every day to come, as you deserve all the happiness the world has to offer! Have a good one.
Love,
Nyte

Rosetta:

Chaos's writing has never failed to amaze. When I first joined the site, I looked up to more "veteran" writers for inspiration and help. I couldn't help but find myself attracted to Chaos's writing. It's smooth, yet deep, descriptive, illusive and unique. I don't know any other writer who can master 2nd person quite like Chaos.

Even more than that, Chaos is a great friend. She is an amazing patient listener. She's rational, yet fun and always has something exciting to share. This site would not be the same without Chaos. Happy birthday, Chaos! Have an amazing birthday! P.S. I'm still older!

Aya:

Hey Chaos!

Happy birthday!

I'm pretty shitty at being sentimental, but just wanted to let you know how much I've appreciated having you and your delightfully snarky sense of humor around all these years. It's been a pleasure losing the occasional accidental-late-night-TC-competition and having you as my go-to mutt-wrangler - and I always know you'll knock whatever it is out of the park. Can't not love your evil creativity (and can't wait to see what evil new heights you take it to in the future >:D)

Anyhow, hope you have a fantastic day!

Best,
Aya

Cameron:

chaos u little shit. I will not write a lot for you because I feel like our relationship doesn't really need words to describe it. it needs drugs. sadly I cannot mail you drugs for your birthday, so instead I will just remember the good times like Benadryl night and the bunnies, I will remember our love for Debbie, and I will remember the unforgettable pop booyah. I love you and am glad you somehow survived to this ripe old age. it's a miracle really.