clarkscottroger | the Wakefield Doctrine - Part 3 clarkscottroger | the Wakefield Doctrine - Part 3

Fraedae -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Doctrine’s contribution to ‘the Unicorn Challenge

A photo-prompt bloghop hosted by jenne and ceayr, it has the simplest of rules: keep it at (or under) 250 words.

Something a bit different. (shh, ceayr… I can hear your eyes rolling)…what follows is a continuation of a ‘Corn from a couple of weeks ago; ‘Friday‘ (which, in turn, was an effort to riff off of ceayr’s ‘Attack‘)

 

 

My car slid just enough to embed the tyre treads into the tide-compacted sand, just below the line of wave-tossed seaweed. While the safe house could be seen from the road, the exposed granite ledge shielded us from the occasional trophy wife’s morning walk. Favored as an exclusive enclave for the wealthy, it’s distaff constituency was resigned to accepting that form is function.

The girl sitting next to me was staring at her hands. She had been since I drove us away from the failed crime scene outside the Weekapaug Inn. Given the ferocity of the reverse-autopsy conducted by her father on her attacker, she had but a single chevron of dried blood on her right hand.

The Order of Lilith, to which I belong, is many things. A manifestation of the virtue of poverty and subsistence lifestyle is very definitely not among them. Devoted to maintaining the balance between the human race and the Adversary thereby allowing Man to realize his Original potential is our sole raison d’être. And that requires money.

“From the looks of those clouds on the eastern horizon, once the sun sets, it’s going to be a dark and…”

Interrupting myself, I recalled Brother Abbott saying in my recruiting interview, “Brother Anselm, of all the Gifts retained when we left the Garden, humor is surely the most questionable in terms of becoming the apex predator.”

The girl turned in her seat, raised a single finger, streaked with dried blood,

Please, don’t say it.”

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TToT -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to the Ten Things of Thankful (TToT) bloghop. We are currently holding Open Auditions for positions on the Board of Hostinae. The qualification for a seat on the Board are to be found among the Grat List here (and possibly on other’s TToTs)

1) Phyllis

2) Una

3) the Wakefield Doctrine

4) [HypoGrat] Got a new phone. Dealing with Improvements (lol) Our Resident Expert on All Things HypGratuitous (motto: there-there-it’s-not-entirely-about-you) Mimi will be happy to esplain.

5) Watching an LPGA tournament last Sunday and hearing one of the announcers use a delightful idiom, “That just throws the cat among the pigeons”.

6) the Six Sentence Story bloghop. Pick of the Week:  ‘Better Angels‘  by Liz H-H

7) the Unicorn Challenge bloghop.  Ear of the Week:

8) Open Houses (as a location that both allows reflection (Hypo-Grat) while inspiring the narrative of a WIP story)

9) something, something

10) Secret Rule 1.3

 

music

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You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

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Tiewsdae -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

cont’d from last week

Hey! Picture the senior lion, missing a tooth or two, ok, maybe a claw more suited to massage than tear, nobody needs to act surprised. But is it still a lion? Yessir. More to the point (and the essence of the Wakefield Doctrine) is he/she still maintain the relationship of the Predator to the world around them? damn straight.

The interesting part of this aging process is when we consider an individual’s secondary and tertiary aspects.

We good?

So we assume you’ve done your reading on secondary (and tertiary) aspects of the Doctrine. Influences, potential, behavioral sports… not dual predominant worldviews. One per customer, please,

So we, some of us, have secondary aspects that are…noticeable. By noticeable we mean, for the skilled observer (aka studious student of a certain personality theory), and even then most often a secondary aspects shows in situations of duress and/or heighten energy (we would have used the word ‘arousal’ but, you know…. scotts*

Although we all retain the potential to experience the world as do ‘the other two’ (as distinguished from our predominant worldview), it’s useful to look.

Funny thing about secondaries, it’s become axiomatic ’round here to say that the only people who come back to this blog more than twice are clarks or scotts/rogers who have a significant secondary clarklike aspect.

It’s true! (lol)

ok, this being a Tuesday, we’re out of time. But as a teaser for anyone finding the topic of secondary aspects interesting, consider this: If you’re not in a hurry to learn a person’s secondary, wait ’til they get old.

(‘Old’ means:

  • for a scott… a missing tooth, a worn-down claw, a tendency to pause before leaping at prey,
  • for a roger… newspapers and National Geographic ‘collections’, an affinity for wondering what total strangers are thinking,
  • for a clark… what old?! we were born old… we’re the original merlin in that regards, ‘cepting the cool portrayal in myth and legend leaves out things like the ‘terrible twos’ (and fives and sixes and such). But hey, we think we’re in a better position to interact effectively with the world around us, what with having already seen the movie.

Questions?

 

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* as in, it doesn’t take much to get them scamps all rambunctious… lol

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Friday -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to the Unicorn Challenge.

Hosted each week by jenne and ceayr, we brave few, we band of bloggers are provided a photo, an image if you will, and charged with creating a story of not more than 250 words.

[ed. thx out to ceayr. as we mentioned last week, developing our action-writing skills was a new priority and so, with appropriate appropriations, we borrow the scene/setting of his ‘Corn this week.]

 

 

I almost threw up.

“The desires of Man too-oft gang agley,” Brother Abbott, while lacking the birthright claim of most of the initiates in the classroom, was inordinately fond of Burns. I had accompanied him to establish the Order’s first chapter in Glasgow. I sat with the young men and women, arm tensing ahead of his request for a volunteer. “While I won’t say I believe a certain ‘Leather Apron’ has moved to your fair city, the current murders here will allow you all to see the Order in action.”

Straightening my spine, the first step to disarming the vomit-coil of my esophagus, I stood between the young woman and the two men. Their carnal embrace continued five yards back beneath the shelter of a rowan, berries all the more red as a knife opened veins and arteries. The girl’s face, in sodium vapor-relief of a early-morning streetlight, is alive with emotion. Every one of them.

With a hand to her shoulder, I continued my turn, the heavy cloth of my robe adding an acoustic dampening of the thud-splash of the two men’s deadly congress.

“I won’t let them take you down into their hell,” she leaned against my arm, I lead her to my car.

Behind us the man crouched over his victim. Blood covered both, tribal paints of the Fallen taken up when Man became human.

The sirens doppler’d towards us, twin shrieks of horror and triumph. I started the engine and drove out of the night.

 

 

 

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Un-reliable Fridae -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to the Unicorn Challenge bloghop.

As is incumbent upon us, this being Friday and all, we proffer a story from the picture that we saw. jenne and ceayr watch with evident glee and all the mad bloggers submit their tales to thee. yea celebrate, it’s the ‘hop that all await, the Unicorn Challenge photo prompt.

 

“Who’s there?”

The woman’s voice hesitated, the slightest up-lilt on the interrogative, a child’s invocation for the closet to be as empty as her parents promised. The scenery had, in some tectonic conspiracy, become a threatening vista. The moors’ rolling green looked mostly solid. The gurgling stream ran a parallel track and not, actually, a serpentine course. The mountains on the horizon seemed devoid of jagged cliffs, as clouds gathered like sentient tendrils to the foothills.

Awareness of her surroundings, because she’d stopped, reminded her how much she valued being away from overly-protective family; it was her favorite activity.

“God, please don’t deprive me this time wandering these hills.” As alone as she was, the old woman kept her prayer silent.

Gazing downwards, a slight cold bubbled somewhere between her belt and her heart.

Her new walking sticks had a pleasant …balance; the rawhide straps, lined with suede, held her wrists in a friend’s embrace. The ends of the rods, upon attaining optimal extension, pulled her along. Ever so slightly.

Suddenly, the stick in her left hand slipped backwards. However, as the inspired design and balance dictated, the right side moved forward in counter-balance, saving her from a fall.

The chill within began to crystallize as the temporary imbalance resulted in her taking a step further along the road. The friend’s grasp of the wrist straps tightened. She stepped another step along the road, discovering something worse than falling to the pavement… walking into the fog that waited patiently. Endlessly.

 

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