#It was fun to write at least

[shivroy]

Why is it bad that she tried to speak seadwell :0 ???

seadwell is considered to be a very sacred language to most seadwellers. they think of it as their secret way to communicate without any land-dwellers understanding, and because of that, they view the language as inherently higher-up due to its association with royalty. they would find it highly disrespectful if a random land-dweller, and a lowblood for that matter, started blabbering at them. 

another thing - lonnie or any land-dweller besides purplebloods dont even have the correct anatomy to speak the language. it originated underwater, and requires seadweller gills and lungs to spoken and be heard correctly. in the city’s violets, a sort of seadwell slang has formed that can be spoken above ground, but it’s mostly interpretive clicks and crude slang - however, this slang is only the tip of the iceberg of the language. above ground, only the faint dolphin-like clicks can be heard, and none of the lower chirps and certainly not the whale-like resonant songs are audible. many of the deep background calls that occur in seadwell can change the meaning of a sentence with their length or frequency. none of that is able to be heard on land, therefore lonnie confidently going up to a group of native speakers and making noises that would sound absolutely infantile to them would definitely garner a lot of hatred, especially since violets can be ruthless to lowbloods. i cant describe exactly how bad it would sound and how much she was teased.. definitely made her so anxious afterwards that she didnt want to go anywhere near other violets anymore. the language nerd had her dreams crush.

[thelastspeecher]

Superhero/villain AU - The Villainous Side of the Family

Day 01   Day 02   Day 03   Day 04   Day 05   Day 06   Day 07   Day 08 Day 09   Day 10   Day 11   Day 12   Day 13   Day 14   Day 15   Day 16 Day 17   Day 18   Day 19   Day 20   Day 21   Day 22   Day 23   Day 24 Day 25   Day 26   Day 27   Day 28   Day 29   Day 30

Finishing up NaNoWriMo fifteen days late, and with yet another Superhero/villain AU write!  I didn’t proofread this, jsyk, but I’m ready to be done with NaNoWriMo and focus on studying, so here.  Enjoy Stan having encounters with the villains his children will be related to, including a certain Fiddleford McGucket.  Oh, and as a heads-up, the last scene takes place when Danny and Daisy are about three, during their first trip to the McGucket farm.

Word count: 2668

              Ford watched idly as Stan rocketed around the living room, picking up stray wrappers and socks.

              “Stanley?”

              “Yeah?” Stan asked, tossing a blanket onto the couch.

              “Are you feeling all right?”

              “Yeah, why?”

              “I mean…you’re cleaning,” Ford said.  Stan looked at him.  “I’m fairly certain that’s either a sign you are gravely ill or that the apocalypse is upon us.”

              “Ha ha,” Stan said dryly.  “Very funny, Sixer.”  He picked up an old newspaper.  “Angie and Lute are coming over today, and you saw how clean their place was.  I don’t wanna scare them off just because we hate picking up old socks.  I mean, this chick is pregnant with my kids.”

              “Fair enough.”

              “Help me out, will you?  Half this stuff is yours.”

              “I’m doing my own part to impress the McGuckets,” Ford said.  He gestured at the notes he was skimming.  “I printed off the files that I used to track them down in the first place, and I’m studying them.”

              “Dammit, Ford,” Stan snapped.  “I’m not playing around.  You scare them off, and I end up a shitty dad like Pops was.  Worse.  I end up an absent father.”

              “Stanley, that won’t happen.”

              “Yeah, you’re right.  It won’t. You’re gonna get rid of those files, and you’re gonna help me clean up.”  Stan threw the newspaper he was holding at Ford.  “Get off your ass and pick up your damn socks.”

              Half an hour later, Stan was nervously pacing by the front door.  The doorbell rang.  Stan jumped.  He took a deep breath.

              You got this.  He opened the door and plastered a smile on his face.

              “Uh, hey.”

              “Stanley,” Lute said shortly.  Angie was standing a few steps behind Lute, looking at the outside of Stan and Ford’s house with interest.

              “I think ya need to clean out yer gutters,” she said idly.

              “Oh, uh, yeah, probably,” Stan said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “We haven’t done that since we moved here, so…”

              ���Geez,” Lute muttered.  He huffed. “Are ya goin’ to invite us in or what?”

              “Yeah, yeah, come- come in.”  Stan stood to the side.  Angie and Lute filed in past him.  Stan closed the door.  “Uh, the living room is- is right ahead.  But if you wanna take a detour first, I can show you the room that I’ve started cleaning out to use as a nursery.”

              “Why?” Angie asked.

              “I figured you’d wanna check it out, since the kids-”

              “No, Stan,” Angie interrupted, “why would ya make a nursery?”  Stan blinked.

              “The babies have to sleep somewhere.”

              “Yer right.  And they will.  At our house,” Lute said firmly.  Stan rubbed his face.

              “Let’s talk about it in the living room, okay?”

              “Fine by me,” Lute muttered.  He and Angie followed Stan to the living room, where Ford was sitting on the couch. Lute looked around the living room before sitting on an armchair.  “Cleaner than I thought it would be.”  Stan shrugged.  Angie took a seat next to Ford.  She peered at the magazine he was reading.

              “That’s a good issue of Scientific American,” she remarked.

              “You’ve read it?”

              “Mm-hmm.  I mean, I wrote an article fer it, so…”

              “Really?”  Ford stared at Angie.  Angie nodded. “That’s quite an achievement.”

              “Well, Angie’s achieved a lot,” Lute said proudly.  “She’s a real catch.”  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “Yeah, uh, let’s go back to the nursery thing,” Stan said, still standing in the middle of the living room.  He took a breath.  “The babies won’t come here?”

              “They can come fer visits,” Angie said.  “But they’ll live with me.”

              “I’m their dad.  Can’t they stay here every other weekend or something?”

              “No,” Angie said.  Stan looked down at his feet.  “Look, we barely know each other.  Maybe- maybe as time goes on, we can revisit this conversation.  But as it stands right now, I’m takin’ full custody.”

              “I’m not thrilled about my kids living with villains 24/7,” Stan said. Lute leaned forward.

              “I’m not thrilled about my sister’s kids havin’ a hero fer a father.  A hero, who, by the way, is the son of the hero known as Libra.”

              “Stan!” Ford hissed.  “You told them?”

              “No,” Stan said.  “I just- I told them that our mom used to be a hero, and that she worked in the same area that Sirocco did.  And then the doctor asked about my family history, and I said our mom has the basic ESP package.  They figured it out from there.”

              “How did Sirocco come up?” Ford asked.

              “Sirocco is their mom.”

              “Hey!” Lute shouted.  Water shot out of the glass sitting next to Ford and zoomed around the room.

              “Lute, turn it off,” Angie said tiredly.  Lute scowled.  The water returned to the glass.  Ford glanced over at his water.

              “Is it still safe to drink?”

              “It’s fine,” Lute said, waving a hand airily.  He glared at Stan.  “What’s not fine is that ya told someone about our ma bein’ Sirocco!”

              “I thought there was some sort of relation between you and Sirocco, given that Angie took on that moniker,” Ford said.  He leaned back thoughtfully.  “I should have figured out that she was your mother.  You do share the same abilities.”

              “Yes, I inherited my powers from my ma.”  Angie played with her hands in her lap.  “But we’re not here to talk about my ma.  We’re here to talk about yours.”  She swallowed.  “Look, we’ve been a bit iffy about all of this from the beginning.  But findin’ out that my babies’ grandmother is my ma’s archnemesis?  That’s- I didn’t think I could get more nervous, but turns out I was wrong.”

              “You don’t have to worry about my mom, okay?” Stan said.  “I won’t tell her about you, and it’s not like we’re close anyways.”

              “Stan-” Angie started.

              “Like I told you when I first tracked you down, I’m not gonna let my kids grow up without a dad.  If that means I tell my mom I need some space, then that’s what I’ll do.”

              “Hold on,” Lute said.  His brow furrowed.  “You’d be willing to avoid yer mother, just so’s ya wouldn’t make yer archnemesis nervous?”

              “Since my archnemesis is pregnant with my kids, yeah, I am,” Stan said.  Lute’s eyes widened.  He exchanged a look with Angie.  Stan turned pink, suddenly flustered.  “It’s- it’s not like it’s that big a deal.  I mean, you guys might be close with your folks, but I’m not.”

              “Maybe that sacrifice isn’t big to you, but it’s still a sacrifice,” Angie said softly.  She bit her lip.  “And it’s fer me.”  She ducked her head.

              “I don’t- did-”  Stan sighed. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

              “No,” Lute said.  He was watching Stan with a steady, neutral expression.  “No, ya didn’t.”  He stood up. “Why don’t ya show us the room yer thinkin’ would be a good nursery?”

              “Uh, yeah.  Sure.”

              “And after, maybe we can exchange phone numbers.”

              “I gave you guys my number,” Stan said.  Lute grinned.

              “But yer brother didn’t give us his.”  He glanced over at Ford.  “I ain’t exactly the kind of person who leaves without gettin’ the phone numbers of good-lookin’ men.”  Ford’s mouth dropped open.

              “I beg your pardon?” Ford asked weakly.  Angie stood up with a groan.

              “Ignore him.  Stan, show us this nursery yer workin’ on.”  She smiled hesitantly.  “I’d like to see.”

              “I don’t have much ready,” Stan said.  “It’s pretty much just a room.”  Angie shrugged.

              “Let’s just see what ya have so far.  We can build upon the foundation later.”  Stan cocked his head.

              “Are you still talking about the nursery?” he asked slowly.  Angie’s grin became firmer.

              “Sure.  Let’s say that.”

----- 

              Stan landed in the driveway, dropped Ford, and shut off his flames. He looked at Ford.

              “This the place?” he asked.  Ford nodded. “You sure?”

              “Yes, I am.”

              “All right.”  Stan marched up to the door.  He knocked. After a few moments, the door opened. Stan stared.

              Damn.  He looks just like Angie.  The man who had opened the door was slender and blonde, with blue eyes hidden behind reading glasses.  He frowned at Stan.

              “May I help-”  The man’s gaze slide sideways, to Ford, hovering behind Stan.  “Stanford?”

              “Fiddleford?” Ford said, stepping forward.

              “What’s the reason fer yer visit?” the man – Fiddleford – asked.

              “Um, we were-” Ford looked at Stan.  “Maybe I was wrong.”

              “Look, I’d love to catch up with ya, but my lil siblin’s are visitin’,” Fiddleford said.  “They’ve been sharin’ some rather important information, so this isn’t quite the right-”

              “Who’s at the door, Fidds?” a voice asked from inside.  Stan took a step back.

              “Shit,” he breathed.  Angie appeared in the doorway.

              “Stanley?” Angie asked.  “What are ya doin’ here?”

              “You know these two?” Fiddleford asked her.  Angie nodded.

              “Stan’s the…father.  And Ford is his twin brother.”  She scowled. “He also knew I wanted to be alone today so’s I could break the news to ya.”  Angie put her hands on her hips.  “I thought you were goin’ to spend today trackin’ down someone.”

              “That’s why we’re here,” Stan said.  “Ford tracked Bitmap to this house.”

              “I must have been wrong, though,” Ford said.  “I mean, I know Fiddleford, and he couldn’t possibly be-”  Ford cut himself off.  “Wait.  Fiddleford, you- how do you know Angie?”

              “She’s my baby sister, o’ course!” Fiddleford said, draping an arm around Angie’s shoulders.  Ford gaped. “And the reason why ya tracked Bitmap here is ‘cause I’m Bitmap.”

              “What?  That’s- that can’t be right,” Ford said.  “I mean, Bitmap is- Bitmap is a villainous hacker, and you- you’re quite the gentleman and-”  Fiddleford raised an eyebrow.  “…You’re also the older brother of two high-profile villains.”

              “Yes,” Fiddleford said.  “I am.” He sighed.  “It’s not the best to have the two of ya just bein’ on my lawn fer ten years, so come inside.”  He and Angie stood to the side so that Ford and Stan could walk in.

              “This is a step up from our dorm room, huh?” Ford said jovially to Fiddleford. Fiddleford chuckled softly.

              “Yessir.”

              “Ford, how do you know…Fiddle…”  Stan trailed off awkwardly.  “Uh, Fiddle…”  He rubbed the back of his neck.

              “Fiddleford,” Ford said.  “And we were college roommates.”

              “Oh, this is the computer geek you roomed with in college!” Stan said. Angie snorted.

              “Computer geek.  Yep, that’s my big brother.”

              “I’m a bit more ‘n a computer geek,” Fiddleford muttered, closing the door.

              “Yes, yes,” Angie said.  She ruffled Fiddleford’s hair.  “I know, yer a full-blown technopath.  And I’m very proud of ya.  I mean, why else would my crew hire ya to do all of our…computer stuff?  No one can track ya down.”

              “‘Cept fer Stanford, apparently,” Fiddleford said.  He crossed his arms.  “How on earth did ya get through my firewalls, by the way?”

              “They went down for a split second about an hour and a half ago,” Ford said. Fiddleford frowned.  “It was only for a very short time, but it was just long enough for me to get a foot in.”

              “I have the firewalls runnin’ constantly, even when I’m sleepin’.  They would only go down if somethin’ distracted me enough to grab the entirety of my focus ‘n attention,” Fiddleford mumbled. Angie let out a small gasp. Everyone looked at her.

              “Fidds, I- I ‘member what happened about an hour and a half ago.”

              “Oh?” Fiddleford said.  Angie nodded.

              “That was ‘round the time that I told ya I was pregnant with a hero’s baby,” she said quietly.  Fiddleford froze.

              “Oh.  Oh, Lord.” Fiddleford rubbed his face.  “Oh, Lord, I- I was so thrown off by- by the news, I-”  He grimaced. “I better go check to make sure nothin’ else went down while I was bein’ distracted.”

              “Sorry, Fidds,” Angie mumbled.  Fiddleford waved a hand.

              “I mean, I had to find out eventually.  Why don’t ya show yer beau and Stanford to the living room, while I check on things.”

              “Yep.”  Angie strode away.  Ford and Stan followed her.

              “Hey, Angie,” Stan said.  Angie turned around.

              “Yes?”

              “Why the hell do your brothers keep calling me your ‘beau’?” Stan asked. Angie sighed.

              “If I ever figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

-----

              Angie opened the door to the farmhouse.

              “Hello?” she called.  There was a loud bark.  A dog barreled down the hallway toward her and collided soundly with her legs.  She chuckled.  “Howdy there, Denver.”  Angie scratched Denver behind the ears.  “Is anyone home other than the dog?”

              “Yes, sweetie!”  Ma McGucket rounded the corner and came into sight.  She strode over to her daughter.  “Sorry, I was in the sewin’ room.”  She kissed Angie on the cheek.  “How was the drive?”

              “Not too bad.  Long, but that was expected.”

              “Where are yer husband and daughters?” Ma McGucket asked.  “They came too, right?”  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “The girls fell asleep in the car.  Stan’s wakin’ ‘em up to bring ‘em in.”

              “Ah.”

              “Holy-!” a voice shouted outside.  Fast footsteps sounded up the porch stairs.  Angie moved away from the door just in time for it to burst open. Stan rushed inside and slammed the door closed behind him.  

              “Howdy, Stan, girls,” Ma McGucket said.  Danny and Daisy, being carried by Stan, grinned at their grandmother.

              “Hi, Grannie Gucket!” Daisy shouted.  She squirmed out of Stan’s grip.  Danny followed suit.  Stan stared at Angie.

              “There- there was a chicken chas- chasing-” he stammered.  Angie frowned.

              “It’s a farm, darlin’.  There are bound to be chickens.”

              “Yeah, but it had teeth!”

              “So?” Angie asked.  Stan squinted.

              “Look, I know I didn’t grow up on a farm like you did, but I’m pretty sure chickens aren’t supposed to have teeth.”

              “…Oh.  Right. Normal chickens don’t have teeth,” Angie said slowly.

              “What the hel- heck kinda chickens do you have here?” Stan demanded.

              “Our livestock and produce are primarily sold to villains,” Ma McGucket said. “The chickens are a favorite of Busterphedon.”

              “Sweet Moses,” Stan muttered.  “Chickens with teeth.  For supervillains.”

              “Puppy!” Danny squealed, catching sight of Denver.  Denver sat on the floor, wagging his tail happily.  Stan grabbed Danny by the shoulder before she could run to Denver.

              “What is wrong with that dog?” he hissed at Angie.

              “Nothin’s wrong with Denver!” Angie said.  “He’s a real sweetheart.”

              “His eyes are glowing.”

              “That’s just from his mama.  He’s half hellhound.”

              “Half- Angie!”

              “He’s also half normal dog.  It’s fine.”

              “Angie.”

              “The dog we had growin’ up, Joel, he was full hellhound, and he didn’t do anything bad to us,” Angie said patiently.  “It’s fine.”

              “Stan, let yer daughter pet the puppy.  Denver is great with kids,” Ma McGucket said.  Stan scowled, but let Danny go.  Danny promptly ran to Denver and wrapped her arms around one of his legs.

              “Puppy!” she shouted again.

              “I wanna pet!” Daisy said.  She joined her twin.

              “Smoft,” Danny cooed, stroking Denver’s fur.  She looked back at Stan and Angie.  “Want one.”

              “Uh, no, we’re not gonna get a hellhound,” Stan said.

              “You sure about that?” Ma McGucket asked.  “The breeder owes us.  He gives us free pups whenever we ask.”

              “I’m sure,” Stan said flatly.  Angie rolled her eyes.  “Maybe you guys should put the chickens away for a while.  Just while the girls are here.  I mean, I don’t have anything wrong with kids getting a bit scraped up now and then, but demon chickens are too much.”  Ma McGucket quirked her mouth into a half-smile.

              “Fair enough,” she said.  “To be safe, we shouldn’t let the girls wander ‘round unsupervised at all.  They don’t know how to avoid the plants.”

              “Plants?” Stan asked.  Angie and Ma McGucket exchanged a look.  “I’m gonna regret asking that, aren’t I.”

              “A lot of the plants ‘round here are carnivorous,” Angie explained.  “I mean, I know how to keep ‘em from eatin’ me, but-”

              “The plants eat people?”

              “Sometimes,” Angie said quietly.  Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

              “Hellhounds, demon chickens, and man-eating plants,” he muttered.  “Ford would love this place.”

[fakesurprise]

The brief was for a horror story about things dwelling below the sewers. No orphans, no zombies, nothing human at all.

So I thought about creatures living in sewers, and combined the origins of the Phantom of the Opera with Splinter from the ninja turtles. And sent the resulting creature up to listen to the opera and murder one of the ninja turtles en route. (All of which was meant to be more implicit than explicit). It was not accepted :)  

The story is long, ~4K, so I might post it this week in two chunks if I can find a good breaking point and post it sometime this week. 

[light-puns]

♣

Lux doesn’t hear him,the sound of his footsteps are lost to her. She can’t hear anything over theblood rushing in her ears as she attempts to hold back the sobs. The tiny mageis sitting on the ground, arms wrapped around her middle as she holds herself.She isn’t sure what hurts worse, the injuries or the fact that she’s failed sohorribly. She’s starting to think it’s the failure but oh how she wishes it wasthe burn marks up her wrists and the knife wound in her shoulder.

It hurts, but the sting of failure hurts worse. All thoselives lost, all because of her, it’s gut wrenching and she has to bite back anothersob. Demacia was right, magic is evil, it’s horrible, she’s horrible. Anotherchoked sob as she tightens her hold around herself, not even caring at the wayit makes blood ooze from the shoulder wound.

The camp around her is decimated, and she can’t bring herselfto look at the bodies of her captors. She hadn’t meant to, she’d just wantedthem to let her go, how’d it end up like this? The sound of a twig snapping iswhat finally draws her attention.

Her head snaps up quickly as she looks for the source of thenoise finding a stranger standing in her carnage. His face is hidden behind a mask,but he doesn’t seem threatening. Perplexed maybe but she can’t tell since he’ssaid nothing and is merely surveying the area around him.

Fear touches her for a moment as she realizes he might beone of them, but again he doesn’t seem irate at her. He doesn’t even seem tonotice her really, as far as she can tell anyway. At least not for a longmoment until his eyes finally land on her. She’s bloody, and her cheeks are tearstreaked she must look a mess, but he doesn’t move from his spot in the middleof the destroyed camp. He’s so close she could reach out and touch his leg ifshe wanted to, she doesn’t but she could.  

“Who are you?” Her voice is breathless, confused, and pained.She just wants him to go away, leave before she hurts him too. There issomething about him though, something about the way he stares at her and theintensity of it, it sends a shiver down her spine. She can’t tell if she’srelieved or not that at least there is another living person around.